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stephspurs · 3 years

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A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

here is the second last part besties wahhh I'm so sad its coming to an end!! I'm also so sorry about this part, it'll break a few hearts :'( Love always, Steph xx

Part 11 | parte undicesima

warnings; heartbreak, swearing & angst - i'm sorry in advance. word count; 2185 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. final update; Wednesday 18/08 5pm AEST. tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

A few days had passed since the Villa match and Amelia had heard from Jack when he returned to Birmingham. He sent her a simple text to let her know he made it home. That’s it. The two went from previously not going more than 24 hours between FaceTimes or calls or memes to a simple made it home a few hours ago, thanks for a good time x.

No “speak soon”, no promise of a FaceTime , no double kiss at the end of the text that would have typically been there otherwise. If anything, she was more mad that he made her feel like a side piece; like one of his instagram girls that she knew he entertained throughout the week. Amelia knew that she, for lack of better terms, fucked up. She fucked up their friendship, and was praying to all of the Gods that would listen to help her not fuck things up with Ben, too. However, the fact that she didn’t go to church as often as she should have is probably the reason that Ben refused to make eye contact with the girl. It was either that or…he already knew.

“Benj, hey, wait up.” She called as he walked out to his car after a particularly long day at Cobham.

“Don’t call me Benj,” he coldly stated without turning around, continuing his stride.

“Okay fine, Chilly. Wait up will you!”

“Don’t call me Chilly either, that's reserved for friends.”

“Okay, if I can’t call you Benj, or Chilly, what can I call you?”

“The best mate of the guy you fucked multiple times on Saturday night” He spat out at her, as he finally turned around, ready to see the shocked look cast over Amelia’s face as she stood a couple feet away from him. He wasn’t expecting to see Mason at his car, just across the way or Jorgi at his, a few cars down. But they were there and it didn’t matter; they were going to find out sooner or later, anyway.

“He told you.”

“He told the group chat, Amelia. The fucking group chat! How does that make you feel? He’s already bragging about it. Your bed isn't even cold yet! It probably doesn’t bother you that much though - you’re just like him.”

“He fucked you when he knew exactly how I felt about you, having gone to him for advice as to how to apologise to you. I called him on Friday after I left your house and gushed to him like a bloody little girl because I was so happy you forgave me, and that we had kissed. And then, just like that, you let him weasel his way between your legs.”

“I know I should be taking this out on him, and I will don’t worry, but you knew what you were doing also. You knew exactly how I felt about you. I was ready to commit to you that night and you said you wanted to be friends, that you needed time to heal or whatever. So I hope you’re happy and are healing, because I take it all back.” With that, Ben turned around and got in his car, driving away from the girl who felt remorse worse than she ever has in her life.

Witnessing the whole exchange, Jorgi gave Mason a nod to say “go check on Ben, I’ll look after Amelia” and walked up to the girl from behind. Without scaring her, he firmly grabbed her around the shoulders and pulled her to his chest where she let go of all of the emotions she had been keeping inside. With every stab of the knife that was Ben’s words, she felt herself becoming more vulnerable and exposed than ever before. She refused to let him see her cry. That wasn’t something she was willing to let anyone see; she didn’t realise all she had been holding together until she no longer had to, until she had the physical support of Jorgi holding her up in the middle of the training ground car park.

Ushering her to his car - she could collect her own another day - Jorgi put her inside before any other first team members - or worse, staff members - could see the distraught girl and drove them both back to her place where he spent the rest of the evening comforting the girl and letting her know she wasn’t alone. He had even made a desperate call to Fede, asking for advice on how to cheer the girl up. Of course, her Italian ex-lover had been worried the moment his national teammate had told him that the girl was inconsolable and was just about ready to board a flight to her, but Jorgi had calmed him down too. Fede’s advice of coffee, warm pyjamas and clean sheets had done the trick of putting the girl to sleep for the night.

The next few days had come and gone, and the two heartbroken almost-lovers were back to the beginning - Ben ignoring Amelia and Amelia trying to get Ben in a room. But it wasn’t to be. Towards the end of the week, Amelia had received a phone call from Mr Mancini, formally inviting her back to the Italian National Team staff for the upcoming friendly matches and preparation for the 2022 World Cup. Without any hesitation, she accepted her role and began to prepare the necessary procedures that would need to be implemented or maintained during her time away with the Italian side.

Sharing the news with her fellow Italians, Jorgi and Emerson, she decided that she wanted to be the one to tell Ben. She wanted him to know, whether he cared or not, that she wasn’t running away from him and that she would see him soon.

“Chilwell, please stay behind after the session.” She decided it was best if she requested it in the company of the rest of the first team and also the staff members. She was being selfish but she didn’t want him to run away from her again.

He remained sat in his seat as the rest of the team and professional staff left for the evening. Arms crossed, slouched down, looking at everything else in the room but the girl who was nervously wringing her hands together.

“I’m leaving for international duties tomorrow morning.” With that sentence, he stopped tapping his left leg and looking at the cornice details. Instead, his attention was focused on her.

“But we don’t break up for internationals for another week.”

“I know, but Mancini has requested I come earlier to settle back into things over there.”

“It’s only an hour flight away, how difficult could it be?”

“I thought you’d be happy to see me go.”

Silence. Ben didn’t have an answer for her. Of course he didn’t want to see her around Cobham on the day-to-day basis they currently had to endure, but that doesn’t mean he wants her to go back to Italy. Even if it was only for a couple of weeks. Especially if it meant she was around Fede again.

“Well, much to your dismay I'll be back here in 3 weeks. And, Italy are playing England in the last friendly match of the break.”

With a slight nod of his head, Amelia presumed that their conversation was done with. She turned to gather her paperwork and heard the chairs behind her move, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing. She sighed into her hands. How did she let this happen? She preached to Ben how much she didn’t want to be selfish with his heart, and that's exactly what she did. But hey, it takes two to tango. Deciding there was no time like the present, she dialed the contact that once made her smirk but instead only made her furious to look at.

“Amelia, hey, how are you? Sorry it’s been a hectic couple of weeks.”

“Cut the crap Jack, you never intended to keep this friendship after you got what you were after.”

“Excuse me? You wanted it just as bad as I did.”

“You’re right about that, I thought I wanted it. Now, though, all I feel is regret. You know Jack, I knew from the moment we met that you were just my type, the kind that only calls me late at night. I knew a guy like you, and he treated me more or less the same. I gave myself to him, over and over for the better part of 3 years, and it was only when I left that he decided I might have been worth it... worth him.”

“But not you, you couldn’t help but run to your group chat and brag about your latest conquest, about how you made me feel wanted, only to rip it all out from under me the next morning and every day since. Honestly Jack, I think it's time you grew up a little. For Ben to confide in you how he was feeling and for you to just have blatant disregard for your so-called best mate. I can’t believe you would stoop so low. I know I'm in the wrong here too, but you are his best mate for crying out loud! How could you do this to him?”

“I don’t even want to hear what you have to say, I just needed to get that off my chest. Lose my number Jack, find some other hopeless girl that you can lure in with your foolish words and sweet nothings because I’m done. I’m done with whatever this was to you.”

______________________________________________________________

“You’re probably not going to believe me, but you have no idea how happy I am to see you here,” I heard from behind me, spinning around on my heels to see the ever-charming, boyish grin I used to love with my whole heart. This time, it's a different kind of love - it's an unconditional love shared between two people that are glad to exist together in the same crazy world.

“Federico, amore mio.” (Federico, my love) I stood up from my place on the bench at the Technical Headquarters and Training Ground of the Italian Football Federation, bringing the taller, heavily tattooed man into my arms. A gentle rock from him, side to side, to let me know that he can feel the weight of my moral compass.

“Vieni, cammina con me” (come, walk with me) He looped our arms together, and we strolled around the perimeter of the pitch that I was using to visualise my plays for the upcoming games. By the time we made it to the first set of goals, Fede had had enough of letting me mull over my own thoughts.

“Tesoro, Jorgi called one night a couple weeks ago. As smart as he is, it turns out he is hopeless at calming down an emotional female. While I'm not proud of knowing exactly how to calm you down, being that it was more often than not my fault you were inconsolable in the first place, I had to get some information out of him as to who upset my favourite girl in all of England.”

So I launched into the story, telling him everything from Mykonos to that fateful night a few weeks ago. Fede being Fede, he wanted to know everything, but I stopped just short of letting him know how many times Jack took me to paradise (much to his dismay). By the time I had wrapped up, we must have walked the pitch at least 3 times in its entirety, before retiring to the centre circle where we sat on opposite sides of the half way line staring at each other.

“I’m sorry that I ruined you for any other man,” Fede spoke solemnly.

“Fede, no - it was my stupid mistake to sleep with Jack.”

“No, let me finish amore. I’m sorry that I made you love me so deeply, and convinced you that the way I treated you was the right way, that the way I was with you was what you expect in every man to come after me. This Jack, he sounds just like me about 5 years ago - before I met you. But Ben, he sounds like the man I am trying to better myself to be, to be the man that deserves the kind of love you have to give.”

“I want you to listen to me. You need to fight for Ben. From what I have heard from both yourself and Jorgi-”

“That boy cannot keep his mouth shut to save himself,” I muttered under my breath.

“Amelia, you have a heart that deserves to be loved. Open yourself up to Ben. Tell him how you feel. From experience, you are very hard to ignore when you’re so vulnerable. Be honest with him, apologise, make him feel wanted, not like a second choice. Let him know how much you care for him, and equally how much you want him to care for you. He will see your sincerity and realise just how truly irresistible you are.”

Part 12. | la parte finale

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ur-favorite-queer-queen · 3 years

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Stars/Dreams

Master List

It was Dick’s turn to zeta to Paris and grab Damian today. He once again looked up and found Damian on the Eiffel tower, sitting there staring at the stars. Tears streamed down his face, that he would immediately brush off before any others saw. But the evidence that stained his sleeve, cheeks, eyes, and his whole being could not be covered up.

Just as he was about to make his way up the tower to get him, try to calm him from another nightmare he probably had, he saw another figure sit themself down near Damian. Upon closer inspection, it was Marinette’s childhood friend, Kim.

He made it up the tower just in time to see Damian break down and pull his knees to his chest, face in his knees, his body shaking from how hard he was sobbing, with Kim rubbing circles on his back. At that moment, he knew it was best if he stayed put.

“I miss her too, but if Nette is anything, she’s stubborn.” Kim spoke softly, still rubbing circles into Damian’s back, “I doubt she’s in heaven or hell or any afterlife up or down there. I bet she’s still here watching over everyone, probably haunting some people too.” That got a chuckle out of Damian, if only a small one.

“She d-didn’t deserve what h-happened to her.” Damian said softly, his voice was raspy from all the crying, and he hiccuped every now and then.

“She didn’t. No one deserves that.” Kim paused, unsure of how to continue. Comforting people was not his forte, so he thought about what Marinette would want, “But she wouldn’t want you to spend day after day crying and wasting your life because she’s no longer in it.”

"H-how would you know?" Damian rubbed some snot onto his sleeve absentmindedly.

"I've known Nette since we were 3, I know many things about her Damian." Kim handed him a tissue out of nowhere. "One thing I know that she would never want, is for people to waste their time crying over something from the past, something they can't change. She would want them to look forward to the future, even if it's without her."

Damian stayed silent for a long time, so long Dick was about to make his presence known, but then he started talking, hiccups and hesitation gone from his voice, "She said her favorite place in all of Paris was here. She loved gazing up at the stars, they were her favorite thing in the sky. Unlike the sun they didn't overpower everything else in the sky, or make you want to stay inside when it's too hot. And unlike the moon they don't disappear unless you're in the wrong place." He paused, thinking over what he was about to say next, "She liked to say that each star was special to someone somewhere. Her special star was that one." He pointed to a star to the right that was a little more separated from the other stars, but it still glowed brightly in the night. "She was always too embarrassed to tell me why though."

"That's where I come in." Kim grinned proudly, like he had just won the lottery, in a quieter voice he began to explain, "While it may be hard to believe, when we were younger Nette was the "loner" out of all of us." He made air quotes with his fingers when saying the word, "Nino had joined the art club, I had joined a few sports teams, but Nette always kept to herself. Not saying that as a bad thing that's just how it was back then." He seemed to think of a way to phrase his words, probably so he wouldn't accidentally offend Damian in his sensitive state, "One day while we were hanging out on her balcony she pointed up to the sky and told us, 'You guys both choose a star and I'll choose a star.' That's all she said, me and Nino were used to her crazy shenanigans so we didn't think much of it. I chose that star," He pointed to a star that was close to Marinette's star, but still had many stars surrounding it. Near all the others it didn't glow as brightly, "And Nino chose that star." He pointed to a star that was also close to Kim and Marinette’s star but also close to the other stars, directly in the middle of the two groups, however it was much dimmer than Marinette and Kim's stars.

"What is the point of all this?" Damian interrupted, his voice gaining its annoyance back but couldn’t cover the curiosity it held.

"I'm getting there, okay? Anyways we both told Marinette the stars we picked and she asked why, we both didn't really have an answer. So she answered for us, she was always good at reading people." He gave out a small chuckle, and Damian cracked a smile, a small one but still a smile, "I chose my star because while I'll always be close to her, I like having a big group of friends, specifically where I'm in the center, but allow others to shine. Nino chose his star because he'll always be in between me and Marinette and his other friends, as you are aware. He never really shines, always one to follow the group, but when he does, he shines brighter than all the others."

"You really have all of this memorized?" Damian commented.

"It's just one of those memories you never forget. It's stuck in your head for no specific reason." Kim turned back to face him. "So then we asked what star she chose and why, she pointed to her star. Then said 'I think despite me maybe having friends in the future, deep down I'll be alone, deep down I won't have many people by my side. Maybe I'll only ever have you guys, but I'm okay with that.' And that was what it was like for a while, until everything happened."

"So she chose that star because she was a loner?"

"That's what she says, but knowing her it's probably deeper than that. So here's my theory, she always knew deep down that when it came down to it, not a lot of people would be on her side, so instead of taking chances with other people she kept to herself. But while me and Nino sometimes depended on other people to help us shine, or they outshine us, Marinette didn’t need anyone to help her shine. Or outshine her for that matter. She always worked better independently, for certain things of course."

After Kim's explanation Damian sat there in silence, Kim waited in the silence as well, and Dick didn’t dare break it. After what seemed like an eternity Damian finally spoke, “Thank you for that Kim.”

Kim smiled at him, glad that his story had helped, “Anytime Damian, I know how much she meant to you.” He stood up, preparing to get down from the tower, but turned one last time to look at Damian, “If you ever want any more stories like that, or just about her, you know where to find me.” And with that he started his trek down the tower, because he wouldn’t be Kim if he used the elevator.

After a moment of silence Damian started to get up, speaking as he did, “I know you are there Grayson, you can come out now.”

Dick came out from where he was hiding, at least having the decency to look ashamed for eavesdropping, “Sorry Damian, I didn’t want to interrupt but we gotta get back to Gotham.”

Damian brushed past him as he headed for the elevator, “Tt, Let’s just go.”

They took the zeta tubes back to Gotham where Damian, surprisingly went straight to bed. This left the others feeling worried.

“Who’s going to be on nightmare duty tonight?” Tim asked, even he was worried for Damian, Marinette’s death had been the hardest on him.

“I can do it.” Dick volunteered.

“Are you sure Dick? You already took the ‘Fetch Damian from Paris shift’. Maybe someone else should take this one.” Steph suggested.

“No I’ll do it. I honestly don’t think he’ll need it tonight but just in case. Plus I know some things you don’t.” And with that cryptid message Dick left to go stand guard near Damian’s room. Leaving the others to wonder what on Earth happened when Dick retrieved Damian that he had information that could help him and his nightmares.

Damian had thankfully not had another nightmare that night, but his dream was still strange.

As he drifted off to dreamland he suddenly appeared to be sitting on something, upon closer inspection it seemed to be a star. Suddenly he heard giggling and turned so fast that he almost fell off the star.

Sitting on another star not so far away from him, was Marinette, still looking as beautiful as the last day he saw her. “Hi Damian.” Damian wanted to believe that she was here, but he saw her dead body, he knew that she was dead.

“You can’t be here. You’re dead.” He stated like he was stating a fact, his voice cold and without feeling, that was the only way to stop the tears from flowing.

“I am dead Damian. But Kim was right you know, I’m much too stubborn to leave Earth, especially without making sure that everyone I left behind would be okay.” She started floating over to him and that’s when Damian realized this must all be a dream, his mind trying to convince him that Marinette was still here.

“This is a dream you can’t be here. You’re not actually here, just my mind trying to convince myself you are here.”

Marinette smirked at him, one of those playful smirks that she always flashed when she knew something he didn’t, “If that’s what helps you sleep at night, then go ahead and believe that.”

After a few moments of silence he spoke up, “Did Kim really know you better than I did?” Damian’s voice was soft and vulnerable when he spoke.

“Both of you knew me very well. I think the grief is just clouding some things for you.” Marinette softly smiled at him, “Kim did make a very good point though Damian.” She waited for him to face her before she spoke again, “I don’t want you to stop living your life just because I’m no longer in it. You have so much to live for, and in order to do those things you can’t keep wishing I was there to do them with you.”

“But how am I supposed to forget you?”

“Not forget Damian, move on. Be able to accept the fact that I’m not gonna be here any more but that doesn’t mean that you have to stop living your life.”

“I’m gonna miss you.” He reached out and grabbed her hand, as a sort of reassurance that she was here. She held both his hands with her own.

“I’m gonna miss you too. But I’ll always be here, watching over you and making sure you don’t get yourself into trouble.”

“So is this goodbye?”

“Yeah this is goodbye, but promise me something okay?” She brought him into a hug as the tears that were trapped in her eyes finally flowed free, “Do not, under any circumstances, stop living your life because I’m not there with you. Alright?” She pulled a tiny bit away from him so she could look him in the eyes.

“Okay, I won’t.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good now I believe it is time for you to wake up now.” She grinned at him, despite the fact that tears still fell from her eyes.

“Already?” Damian asked as tears escaped his own eyes.

“Yeah,” She pulled him in for one last kiss before pulling away and smiling at him, “Goodbye Dami, I better only see you in like 70 years.”

“Yeah, goodbye Mari.”

Damian woke up with a small smile on his face as he clearly remembered the dream he had last night. That smile quickly turned to a frown as he remembered that it was just that, a dream.

He got dressed and made his way to the dining room only for Alfred to drag him to the kitchen before he got there. His protests died in his mouth when he saw what was on one of the kitchen counters. Flour was all over the counter but in the spaces there wasn't flour there were words.

'It wasn't a dream Damian, don't worry, you're not crazy.'

He sank to the floor and cried again, this time it was happy tears though. For now he knew that while she wasn't here with him, he at least got the opportunity to say goodbye and know that she would still always roam the Earth and watch him and others. That was good enough in his book.

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Forgot to tag the people who helped me! @ramos123 @nightlychaotic @boldlyanxious

#mgi civil war #maribat #Daminette Dominance #marinette is dead #Kim comforts Damian #Kim & Damian friendship #daminette #no beta this is war

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hockeyisit · 3 years

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You're Having A Baby?

Summary: Mitch and Steph have a baby.

A.N. Hey guys I know its been awhile since I’ve posted. I’ve been going through a lot and haven't had much time to write. Heres something that I have had saved in my drafts for awhile. Its kind short but hope you enjoy and hopefully I’ll be able to get back to writing soon!

Masterlist

“Babe,” I called out as I pushed the door to Auston and my bedroom. He was currently laying down on bed with Noah and Kai laying down next to him. I had been downstairs washing the dishes when I had gotten a text from Steph. He looked up from where he was scrolling on his phone with a raised eyebrow.

“Steph’s in labor,” I told him excitedly as I made my way over to the bed and sat down next to him near the boys. I reached out and set my hand on Noah's little stomach.

“She just texted me that her and Mitch are on their way to the hospital. She was wondering if we’d be able to go feed Zues tonight because they weren’t home when she went into labor and she won't be back for awhile,” I told him as I looked up from Noah so I could see Auston’s face.

“Alright did she say when we should go?” he asked as he locked his phone and slouched down, he wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned forward so he could rest his head on my lap. I reached my hand down to rub it through his hair in a soothing manner.

“Whenever. I was hoping we could go to the hospital since she was there for me,” I told him gently. He hummed as he buried his face into my stomach.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea for the twins babe,” Auston mumbled as flipped over.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Well we don’t know how long it’s going to take and the twins might get restless. Maybe we should have her text us when we are allowed to visit and then we go over,” Auston suggested, causing me to let out a sigh as I thought about it. Steph had been in the waiting room for me the entire time I was in labor.

“Okay,” I finally agreed, leaning back against the headboard.

“So you have the day off tomorrow, what would you like to do?” I questioned as I continued to run my hand through his hair. He shut his eyes as he relaxed into my touch.

“Sleep,” he answered honestly, with a sleepy grin on his face. I let a smile overtake my own face as I grinned down at him.

“I’m not tired. Do you mind if I turn the tv on?” I asked as I reached for the remote. He shrugged his shoulders as he closed his eyes. I smiled down at him softly as I turned the tv on. Once it was on I turned the volume down and opened up Netflix. I had recently become obsessed with the show Designated Survivor.

It was currently July and Auston and I had decided to stay in Toronto a bit later than we normally did. We both had things holding up back from traveling back to Arizona like we normally did in the summer. One being I had gotten a job offer and I was going through the process of training for it. Even though it was an online job they had wanted me to come in for a few days of in person training. Auston had also wanted to stay and do some different training sessions with Mitch and a few of the other guys that had decided to stay in Toronto.

After watching two episodes the twins started to stir. I glanced over at my phone to check the time. 6:45pm. I locked my phone and reached my hand out to rub Kai’s forehead in a comforting manner. The twins were just now a little over a year old and looked more like Auston every single day.

“Hey baby,” I cooed as his face scrunched up like he was about to start crying. I could reach out to grab him though because of the way that Auston was still laying on my lap. I shifted my body slightly trying to lean forward more so I could get a better grip on Kai but with no luck I tried to gently remove Auston from my lap.

“Huh?” he asked as he picked his head up from my lap.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you. Kai looks like he's about to blow.”

Auston glanced at Kai who was quietly crying next to Noah. I reached out and picked him up, he immediately quieted down once he was settled in my arms.

“What time is it?” he mumbled out sleepily so that it sounded more muffled then anything.

“Six fifty,” I responded as I glanced over to Noah who was starting to stir lightly. Auston picked him up before he was able to let out a cry.

“We should probably go feed Zues,” I said as I stood up from the bed.

“Honestly I can just go and pick him up,” Auston offered as he stood up himself. I glanced up from what I was doing to look at him. It had been awhile since we had both Felix and Zues together.

“That sounds like a good idea. Let me just check with Steph and Mitch that it's okay,” I told him. I picked up my phone and sent Mitch a quick text asking him if it was okay before making my way downstairs with Auston following behind me.

“What do you want for dinner?” I asked, setting Kai down in his bouncing chair.

“Anything you want,” he set Noah in the chair next to Kai before making his way over to me where I stood leaning against the counter. I smiled up at him as his hands slipped to my waist.

“I kind of want to make taco salad,” I said, reaching my hand up and resting it on his chest. He smiled as he leaned a little more weight on me so that the counter was holding us up.

“Alright do we have everything for it?” he questioned. I thought about it for a moment before sadly shaking my head.

“I don’t think we have avocados but I guess we don't really need them” I thought aloud, feeling slightly sad at the idea of a taco salad without them.

“I can pick some up on the way to pick up Zues,” Auston suggested causing me to perk up.

“Could you please,” I begged. He laughed lightly as he nodded his head.

“Yeah no problem,” he pressed a kiss to my cheek before leaning back.

“You're the best,” I grinned before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips. He smiled against my lips before deeping it. I pulled away when I heard my phone ringer went off.

“Mitch responded and said it would be really great if we could watch Zues,” I told Auston after I finished reading the text. Auston nodded as he pulled away.

“Alright I’ll go now. See you in thirtyish minutes,” Auston said before leaning in for another kiss.

“I love you. Drive safe,” I told him once he pulled away.

“Love you too,” he smiled at me and then turned to press a kiss to each of the twins' foreheads. He made his way over to the garage door and grabbed his keys off the hook before making his way out to the car.

----

I moved the pot filled with beef to a burner that wasn't warm and started chopping the lettuce. I heard the door open causing me to pause and peak my head around the corner. Zeus immediately ran in and started exploring while Auston walked in behind him. He held up the bag of groceries and made his way into the kitchen.

“Got the stuff you wanted,” he said holding his hand up that had the bag of groceries.

“Perfect thank you,” I said, walking up to him and wrapping my arms around his neck so I could pull him in for a kiss.

“It was no problem,” he slid his hands to rest on my waist and tightened his grip lightly as he pressed another kiss to my lips.

“I’m going to feed the dogs and then we can eat,” he suggested once he pulled away from the kiss. I glanced at all the things I had spread around the counter before giving him a nod.

“Sound’s good, I'm just going to cut this up and then we're ready to go,” I told him as I held up the grocery bag. I finished chopping the food up before putting them into two separate bowls and setting them on the table. I glanced over at the twins to make sure they were fine and they both seemed pretty happy. I sat down at the table and waited for Auston to join me at the table. When he showed up he washed his hands and then made his way over to the twins and pressed a kiss to both of their foreheads before joining me at the table.

“Thank babe,” Auston said as he took a seat and pulled his bowl closer to him. I shrugged my shoulders as I reached my hand out to his.

“Bless this food and bless this family,” I mumbled before dropping his hand and reaching for my fork.

“I love you,” he mumbled as he picked up his own fork. I felt a blush spread across my cheeks as I took a bite of my own food.

“Always and forever,” I responded after I had finished chewing, his smile brightened as he looked at me. My phone vibrated from the table and I picked it up to find a text from Mitch saying that Steph was heading into a C-Section which I knew hadn’t originally been a part of the birthing plan.

“Auston,” I exclaimed before turning my phone towards him and showing him the text from Mitch.

“Do you want to go to the hospital?” he asked after reading the text. I thought about it for a moment before shaking my head no.

“What good will I be sitting around at the hospital. I’ll go first thing in the morning,” I told him before taking another bite of my dinner. Auston nodded as he started eating his food as well. Halfway through eating Kai started whining from his chair. I shared a look with Auston before reaching out to pick him up.

“What's up baby?” I asked, holding him close to me. He relaxed slightly in my arms but continued to cry. I let out a soft sigh as I pulled my shirt to the side so that I could feed him. I was getting to the point of wanting to stop breast feeding the twins but when the boys were hungry and crying I found it harder and harder to stop. I knew that it was something that I would just have to act stronger on.

“I thought you were done breast feeding them,” Auston called out from the table. I turned around and gave him a look to which he quickly held his hands up. When he finished I set him back down in his chair and joined Auston at the table again.

“I want to stop but it's just so much faster. They hate the formula,” I admitted before taking a bite of my food.

“Well they gotta stop at some point,” he said, turning his attention back to his food. Rolling my eyes I glanced at my food

“What?” Auston asked, noticing my expression.

“Nothing,” I mumbled as I took another bite.

“Babe seriously, what's up?” he asked when he finished chewing. I shrugged my shoulders helplessly as I thought.

“Nothing, I just, why are you being so pushy about this?” I asked quietly. Ever since I told Auston I wanted to quit breastfeeding he had been so harsh and pushy whenever I did it.

“I’m not trying to be pushy, I'm trying to be helpful and supportive. You said that in your research it can be hard for women to stop breastfeeding because it feels like they are losing out on the closeness. I was just trying to make sure you did what you want,” he told me as he reached out to place his hand on mine. I looked away from his intense gaze to the boys sitting in their chairs.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m being a bad mom,” I admitted quietly. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Auston put his fork down.

“Amelia you're the best mom,” he reassured me rubbing his finger over my hand causing me to look back at him.

“I’m serious. You do everything right by them. They are so so lucky to have you as their mother and I’m so lucky to be doing this with you,” he removed his hand from mine and moved it up to my face so that he could move a piece of hair and tuck it behind my ear. I gave him a soft smile as I leaned into his touch.

When we finished eating Auston started doing the dishes while I started getting the boys ready for a bath. As I kneeled down next to the tub I noticed Zues and Felix hovering in the corner. I let out a smile as I reached out to rub my hand through the closer dog, Zeus’, fur.

“Alright time for the bath babies,” I cooed as I reached for Noah so that I could settle him into the bathtub.

“Auston will you come help me wash them?” I called out raising my voice so he could hear me from the kitchen. I heard the water shut off before his footsteps approached.

“Hey Kai, are you ready for bath time?” he asked sweetly as he swept Kai up into his arms and quickly undressed him before making his way over to me so he could settle him into the bathtub.

“When I was washing the dishes your sister called,” Auston mumbled after a moment of cleaning the babies in comfortable silence. I glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow as I continued to rub the baby wash into Noah’s hair.

“Oh what did she want?” I questioned as I poured water gently over his head. Noah let out a small whine before quickly quieting down.

“She got into U of T,” he said.

“Oh my gosh what?” I exclaimed excitedly.

“Yeah she got the letter-,” he started to say before getting cut off by the sound of a phone ringing.

“Is that yours or mine?”

He shrugged his shoulders while I stood up. I wrapped Noah in a towel and then quickly made my way out of the bathroom to where our phones were on the kitchen counter.

“It's Mitch,'' I called out before pressing answer and holding the phone up to my ear.

“Hey Mitch. How's everything going?” I asked the second the call connected.

“Steph is out of surgery and everything went perfect,” he responded through a smile. I could hear nothing but joy coming from his voice.

“I’m so glad to hear, is she up now?” I questioned as I started making my way up the stairs and to the nursery. Auston glanced over at me from where he was standing at the changing table when I entered the room.

“She’s sleeping right now, he was born a few hours ago and she just now finally fell asleep.”

I put the phone on speaker before setting it down on the changing table so that I could start dressing Noah.

“Did you guys get a chance to name him?” I asked as I pulled out Noah and Kai’s pajamas. Steph and Mitch had done a gender reveal party early on in the pregnancy so we had known that they were going to have a boy. We however had been placing bets on what we thought they would name him.

“Charlie Andrew Marner,” Mitch said softly.

“What a beautiful name,” I responded, giving Auston a soft smile. I was so happy for the two of them. Steph and Mitch deserved everything and to hear that everythin went well I was so happy for the two of them.

“Yeah you’ll have to come meet him once Steph is awake,” Mitch said.

“We definitely will. You enjoy your first night as a dad, you wont get much sleep after these first few nights,” Auston warned him. I let out giggle as I started rocking Noah back and forth.

“Yeah for sure. Also if you guys don’t want to take care of Zues I can have my mom swing by and pick him up,” Mitch responded.

“Nah man don’t worry about it. Felix loves having Zues around,” Auston reassured as he started rocking Kai.

“Alright if you say so. But I do have to go. I have more calls to make so I’ll see you guys.”

“Tomorrow,” I called out before he could hang up, causing both Auston and Mitch to laugh. Auston reached out and ended the call before making his way over to the rocking chair and taking a seat. I quickly crawled on so that I was sitting with him, causing him to settle Kai in my lap as well so that we all fit on the chair.

“Baby Charlie,” I whispered. Auston pressed a soft kiss to the side of my head and wrapped his arm tighter around me allowing me to finally relax and stop worrying about everything I had been during the day.

“Feels like it was just yesterday that the twins were born,” Auston mumbled against my ear. I let out a sigh as I stared down at them.

“I know. I cant believe it's been over a year,” I admitted reaching out to touch Kai’s tiny hand.

“They were perfect, just like their mother,” Auston grinned before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to my lips. The four of us stayed curled up like that until the twins fell asleep.

#auston matthews #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews fanfic #auston matthews fic #auston matthews x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl writing #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fanfic #toronto maple leafs writing #toronto maple leafs fic #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey writing #hockey imagine

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 3 years

Text

The Crown Found in Rose Thorns (Part 2) - fic

Characters: Damian Wayne, Jon Kent, Timothy Drake, bits of Steph, Jason and Dick Summary: Jonathan and Damian go on their first date. A/N: I just think about royal princes jon and damian a lot, mmkay. also, those flowers don’t ever wilt, Damian will find out. maybe it’ll be important later, if I remember that detail.

Ao3

There was a giddy energy around the castle this morning. He felt it as he walked through the halls. The servants were all chattering amongst themselves, smiling in his direction whenever he passed by.

The prince has a date! They were all saying. The prince has chosen a suitor!

Damian could only roll his eyes. Hardly.

He found his hand had drifted to the hilt of the sword on his hip as he entered the courtyard. Perhaps he could challenge that infuriating Jonathan to a duel? It was only appropriate – he tried to mock Damian in front of his court.

But he ended up shaking his head. Knowing what little he did of this prince of Krypton, the simpleton might enjoy that.

As he neared the gates, he felt himself give an involuntary sigh. It must have been loud, as the one waiting there turned and grinned.

Almost as annoying as Jonathan of Krypton – his brother, Timothy.

“Don’t tell me you’re my chaperone for this…event.” Damian called.

Timothy kept his smirk. “Well, since you sound so enthused by the prospect, I can ask to be.”

“Don’t.” Damian scolded as he reached him. “I don’t need protection. Especially against the knight.”

“While I don’t doubt your skills, we don’t know that.” Timothy reminded. “He could be working for Ra’s.”

“He claimed to be the child of Father’s ally. Or did Richard not tell you that?” Damian hummed, staring out into the bustling streets. A small child waved towards them. He smiled and waved back. “Or do you just not believe him?”

“You do?” Timothy raised an eyebrow. “Prince Damian of Gotham, believing people at their word? Surely Father has taught you better than that.”

Damian felt heat in his face. “Of course I don’t. But I also know he doesn’t fit Grandfather’s brand of agent. He’d use someone we wouldn’t expect. A fortune teller or shop keep. An old cook or cleaning woman. A young, strong-looking knight who draws so much attention? Seems…implausible.”

“Strong-looking, hm? And here, Richard told me you only agreed to meet with him today as a barbaric game.” Timothy questioned mischievously. Damian pursed his lips and punched Timothy’s arm. “Ow! Hey!”

“Frankly I trust Sir Jonathan to not be an agent more than I trust the likes of…of Cassandra’s suitor.” Damian mumbled. “Why don’t you spend more time investigating that bard woman? How can you be so sure she’s not an agent? That’s exactly the type of person Grandfather would use. No direct ties to me, and could harm someone else in our family in the process. Exactly what Ra’s al Ghul would want.”

“Stephanie has been vetted. She was vetted long before she and Cassandra were romantically involved.” Timothy explained. He laughed then. “Speaking of her – back to your original question. No, I am not your chaperone today. I’m here waiting for Stephanie.”

“Why?” Damian demanded. “Does Cassandra know?”

“Yes, she does. She’ll be joining us.” Timothy nodded. “Stephanie is a bard, like you said. So she hears the stories. She knows things.” He looked towards Damian. “We’re hoping she knows things about the Kingdom of Krypton and a certain prince.”

Damian crossed his arms. “So…who is my chaperone, then? Surely there is one.”

“Not directly. You and Jonathan will still be alone in general. He’ll just follow in the distance.” Timothy shrugged. “And it’s Jason, I believe.”

Jason, the raunchy brother. He had almost as little manners as Jonathan himself. Always yelling and cussing. No filter, no politeness. A rough man who drank too much.

He’d almost prefer Timothy.

“And I believe Richard will be joining him later in the day, or switching. But I cannot remember.” Timothy suddenly stepped forward. Damian looked into the crowd and saw a blonde woman in a purple travelling cloak gliding towards them. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

The woman came forward, and bowed when she was close enough. Damian gave her a head nod in return as Timothy turned to guide her into the courtyard. They were halfway to the castle when Timothy turned back.

“And Damian, don’t forget!” He called. “If Sir Jonathan does anything untoward,” He pulled his own blade out of its sheath halfway. “You stab to kill.”

Stephanie laughed. Damian grinned in response, and turned towards the town, making his way towards the forest.

He caught sight of Jason a few times on his walk. Riding his gray horse lazily fifty or so yards away. The one time, Jason saw him watching, and gave him a cheeky wink.

Damian had scowled and tried to walk faster, almost hoping to get lost in the crowd. Just because he had to have a chaperone, didn’t mean he couldn’t make the job worth their while.

As he entered the clearing on the edge of the forest – the agreed meeting place – he slowed. Jonathan was already there.

He wasn’t in his armor today, but rather a simple tunic and pants, similar to Damian’s own outfit, just minus the tied vest. He was sitting on a fallen log, fiddling with the flowers popping up around his boots.

Damian did not see a weapon on him.

Along with the change of outfit, his demeanor seemed different from the day before as well. His face was no longer sharp confidence and sunny mischievousness. Now, his eyes were half-lidded as he relaxed, face thoughtful as his head tilted and he examined the flowers.

Damian ignored the sudden feeling in his chest. Because it wasn’t annoyance or haughtiness or even suspiciousness like he expected.

Without warning, a bird swooped down from overhead, cawing as it brushed along Damian’s hair. The noise made Jonathan look up, and once he recognized Damian, he smiled.

“…She sure seems to like you.” Jonathan laughed as he stood. “Hello, Your Highness.”

“Hello.” Damian mumbled, holding his arm out. The bird fluttered down to land on his elbow. “Waiting long?”

“No, not long.” Jonathan scratched awkwardly at his hair. “…I tend to arrive places early when I’m nervous.”

Damian snorted. “You? Nervous? Your showing yesterday implied you didn’t know the meaning of the word.”

Jonathan let out a gentle laugh. “Well…I had to get your attention somehow.” When Damian glanced up at him, he found himself unable to hold the gaze, so looked to the bird. “Is she yours?”

“No, she’s wild.” Damian assured, even as he pet gently at the bird’s head. “I…spend a lot of time out here. Feed them on occasion.” He looked towards the bird and smiled. “She must remember me.”

“Well, you are hard to forget.” Jonathan mumbled. Damian had a feeling he wasn’t supposed to hear it, so didn’t push the issue…yet. Instead, he let Jonathan admire the bird for a moment, then shook his elbow and pushed the bird back into the sky. She flew off with another caw. “…Lead the way?”

Damian nodded and moved down the path. Jonathan stayed behind him for a few moments, before jogging to catch up.

“I…um.” He let out a small cough. “I don’t mean to alarm you.”

Damian glanced at him.

“There’s a man on a horse following us.” Jonathan whispered. “…Would you like me to deal with him?”

Damian stopped walking and turned. In the expanse of trees, he could see the shadow of Jason, chaperoning as promised.

Damian smirked.

“I should.” He called loudly. “I should absolutely let you dispatch of our stalker.” He heard Jason’s horse snort as Jason turned her away.

Jonathan glanced between him and the trees. “I…think I am missing something.”

Damian laughed. “My family is overprotective.” He explained. “With this…situation with my grandfather, they are chaperoning my every movement, including with potential suitors. That’s merely my brother, Jason.”

Jonathan hummed. “I’d heard about that.” He sighed. “I’m…sorry.”

Damian shrugged. “My grandfather has always been ruthless. Apparently tried to kill my father when he and mother agreed to marry. Why anyone is surprised he’s come after me is beyond me.”

Jonathan didn’t respond. They walked in silence for a few moments. Damian’s bird friend let out another cry as she flew above them once more.

“That was why you came, though, isn’t it? For all that glory?” Damian asked. “You know, to be the one to succeed in protecting the youngest prince of Gotham?”

“No.” Jonathan said simply. “I came for you.” When Damian looked at him, he was uncupping his hands, revealing a small flower. He twisted the stem into his fingers and held it out. “Just for you.”

Damian stared between the flower and Jon’s face, then back again.

“…You weren’t holding that before.” Damian whispered. He looked up again. “I know you weren’t.”

“No, I wasn’t.” Jonathan smiled and held the flower out. Damian took it without thinking, cataloguing that the mischievousness was back in Jonathan’s brilliant purple eyes.

Curious.

“I will admit, though, that hearing about your mother’s call for a suitor did spur my action.” Jonathan admitted wistfully. “Gave me a reason to return to Gotham and try my luck.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Many times. My family travelled often when I was younger. We were in and out of kingdoms all the time.” Jonathan chuckled. “How my father met and befriended your father, I still don’t know. It’s a story he won’t tell.”

“Old men love their secrets.” Damian agreed. He stared down at the flower as they walked, stroked at its pink petals.

Those feelings Damian expected, the pride and suspicion, they weren’t manifesting. In fact, he was finding that it was…surprisingly nice, walking with Sir Jonathan. It didn’t feel awkward or forced. Their conversation was flowing naturally. There was no hint of the bordering animosity from yesterday, or the challenge. And, loathe as he was to admit it, even just to himself, he was easy on the eyes.

He still couldn’t trust him, though. Couldn’t stop assuming there was going to be another shoe to drop. A catch to this seemingly simple situation.

“So…” Damian sighed after a few minutes of silence. “I am to believe you are sincere, then?”

“Hm?”

“You aren’t here for the glory of protecting the prince?” Damian repeated, putting the flower behind his ear so he could clasp his hands behind his back. Jonathan shook his head. “Or for the riches that come with joining a highly respected royal family?” Jonathan smirked and shook his head. “You are here for love and all it entails, truly?”

“Yes.” Jonathan said easily. “At least I hope so.” He looked up into the sky, watching the clouds between the reaching tree branches. “I believe love could happen, but I also know that’s no guarantee. I mean,” Another laugh, this one nervous. “I know you’re not happy with me so far, but I will admit I am fond of you already. But I know that could change.”

He gave out a dreamy sigh.

“I could end up hating you.” He mumbled. “Or I could end up so deeply in love with you I don’t know what I’d do.”

Damian stared at him, specifically at his sparkling purple eyes. “…The former is more likely.”

Jonathan blinked and the sparkle disappeared from his eye as he looked back at Damian. He gave another smile, but it was sadder. “Surely you think better of yourself than that, Your Highness.”

Damian shrugged. “It…has happened before. An occurrence I’m used to. Friends, family…look at my grandfather, after all. Why do you think my mother feels the need to beg for someone to love me?”

“Well then, I will just have to hope to fall even deeper in love with you myself, then. Show them all what they are missing.” Jonathan decided.

But the answer made Damian stop. Jonathan took a few steps further before stopping and turning back himself. Damian watched as he glanced over Damian’s shoulder, no doubt at Jason’s lurking form. “Why?”

Jonathan looked back. “Why what?”

“Why are you so keen?” Damian demanded. “You know nothing about me.”

Jonathan blinked, and that shine in his eye was back. “Of course I do.” Jonathan said simply. “I know a lot about you.”

“How?” Damian asked. “Your father?”

“No. By our own interactions.” Jonathan shook his head. “You don’t remember, and that’s fine. It’s not important, really. Maybe one day you will.”

“When did we interact?” Damian snapped. “When did we meet?”

“As children.” Now Jonathan frowned, glanced at the ground. “But if you don’t mind, I don’t wish to talk about that now. That’s not what today is about.”

Damian crossed his arms. “What is today about then, if not to get to know each other?”

“Get to know each other, yes!” Jonathan agreed. “But as we are now, not as we were.” He took a step towards Damian. “Maybe another day, when you trust me more?”

He almost sounded like he was pleading, and Damian couldn’t help but narrow his eyes. “Who says I ever will?”

Jonathan laughed again, bowing his head in admittance.

“Like I said, who knows how this will turn out. I’m hopeful, but have been wrong before.” He smiled. “But that is neither here nor there, and I won’t bring it up again. The future doesn’t matter, only today does. So let’s get back to it, shall we?”

Damian pursed his lips in thought, vaguely sensed the flower tucked behind his ear.

“Fine. Let’s.” Damian nodded, stepping off. Jonathan’s face lit up as Damian returned to his side and they continued their quiet stroll through the woods.

Jonathan kept his promise, he kept his romantics to himself the rest of the day. Instead, they talked about typical things. Not love and coups and kingdoms, but food, books, battles. Jonathan, it turned out, enjoyed cooking. He spent much of his time in Krypton attempting to recreate the recipes he was taught when they travelled to share with his court. He also loved competing, and learning a skill when it bested him.

Damian asked about the bloody armor he had from the day before. Jonathan admitted is was from an attack on Krypton right after his father had retaken the throne. He didn’t like war, or the constant fighting around the lands, but recognized the need to take part when he had to, especially when it came to protecting the innocent.

Jonathan asked about his own skills, especially by being the son of the notorious Talia al Ghul. Damian explained that was what was so silly about this suitor business – he could protect himself. Always has been able to. Just like his siblings.

He then talked about his family. How his siblings were all adopted, but it’s not like you could tell, since they all looked so alike anyway. Richard was adopted by his father, Jason by his mother, and Timothy and Cassandra after the two were married. Damian had been an accident.

Their rendezvous was supposed to finish by midday, but they were so distracted by their winding conversation that they did another two laps around the forest path, before making their way back into town in the late afternoon. Absently, Damian noticed when Richard joined Jason, but otherwise continued to ignore them.

He could also see the townsfolk all whispering already. Gleefully talking about how handsome Jonathan was, how close the two were walking. He even heard a few talk about how warm his own smile was, and how relaxed he looked.

He ignored them too.

As the sun went down over the hills in the west, he found them nearing one of the castle’s gates and decided to end their meet for the day.

“Shall we see each other again?” Jonathan asked after Damian said so. “Have I proven myself to be worth even a second of your time?”

Damian let himself have a small smile as he crossed the gate threshold and turned back. “I suppose we can. How long are you staying in town?”

Jonathan shrugged. “As long as I need. Unless I get a letter from Krypton or something, I have nothing urgent to return to presently.”

“Alright. Where are you staying, then?”

“The tavern a few streets away.”

“Okay.” Damian smirked. While the day had been pleasant, and Jonathan an interesting companion, that didn’t mean he wasn’t still going to have his fun. “I’ll come find you when I wish to see you again.”

Jonathan gaped for a moment. “And when might that be?!”

Damian just kept his grin. “Whenever I feel like it. So, if you’re actually serious about this. I suppose…well, don’t leave town.”

Jonathan stared for a moment more, then let out a bark of a laugh. “You’re cruel, Your Highness.”

“So I’ve been told.” Damian agreed cheekily. He turned to walk away, but:

“Damian.”

He hesitated and glanced over his shoulder. Jonathan was still there, looking down at his hands as he clasped them together.

“I…would like to apologize, for yesterday.” Jonathan muttered. “I didn’t mean to potentially embarrass you in front of your court. I only wanted to get your attention, by any means necessary, which was selfish of me.” He bowed his head. “That…is not me. Not really. Today, though, that was me. I promise.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Damian countered. Jonathan looked up, confused. “You never explained how you made the flower, how you know me, or why your eyes sparkle – and yes, I noticed that. You’re still hiding something of yourself.”

Jonathan lowered his head once more.

“But we all have secrets, I suppose. Masks we wear on occasion.” Damian relaxed his shoulders, and touched at the flower still behind his ear, still as fresh as the moment Jonathan gave it to him that morning. “So…all is forgiven, Sir Jonathan.”

Jonathan perked at his words. After a moment of silence, he stepped forward again.

“Damian?” He asked softly. Damian hummed in response. Without warning, Jonathan took hold of Damian’s hand and leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. He lingered there for a moment, breath brushing Damian’s skin as he whispered, “Thank you for a lovely day.”

As quickly as he approached, he retreated, backing up until he was almost in the street.

“Until next time, Your Highness!” He called as he raised his hand. And in a flash, he was instantly lost to the evening crowd.

Damian was left blinking owlishly at the gate threshold. As he heard Richard and Jason approach on their horses behind him, obviously coming into the courtyard from another entrance, he looked down at his hand, the one Jonathan had held.

A purple rose sat against his fingers.

He looked back into the crowd, looking for even a glimpse of that black hair and violet eyes. There was nothing.

He swallowed thickly. This was supposed to be a game. Damian wanted it to be a game. He wanted to break Jonathan down and send him back to Krypton weeping.

He’d wanted that.

Now…so quickly…he wasn’t so sure. He wasn’t so sure what he wanted. Wasn’t so sure if it was a game. And if it still was, who was winning.

“…Until next time.”

#Damian Wayne #Jon Kent #jondami #crowns au #idk wtf im tagging this au haha

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incoherentbabblings · 3 years

Note

Hi!

I love your content, your love for TimSteph, and I was actually going to ask what you love so much about them. I, for extra credit for English, decided to write an analysis of Stephanie (and why I love her so much), but I just got into comics, and cannot really put my feelings for her in words ... which is odd, considering how much I love her and writing. Also, I was going to do a section on why TimSteph is narrative genius, and I needed help elaborating on that too.

Could you help me out, please? Thanks!

(I feel the need to mention that I have read quite a lot of comics with Stephanie in them, though not all. I'm not much of a comic book fan, but I'm really interested in the Batfamily!)

I'll be very happy to write out bullet points that you could talk about, and feel free to go through my ask and I'll babble/TimSteph meta tags for anything that you think may be worth discussing in your own words - there's like four or so years of stuff there to spark your brain.

HOWEVER!!!! Keep in mind though that much of what I have written is half based on textual evidence and half me just writing what I like/wish would crop up in canon.

For example, yes I like to draw comparisons between Tim being cold and Steph being warm, moon and sun and so on, but there's genuinely nothing in text to hint as this being an actual character trait or symbolism. If anything Tim's stated to be warm several times, more than Steph.

So, and I am sorry to be so blunt, but if I take your request in bad faith for a moment, don't use either directly or indirectly what I've written for your work. Especially without actually going and reading the arcs I talk about. A lot of the time it doesn't hold up under genuine textual scrutiny, and we want to be good academics here! There's Death of the Author and then there's me making crap up because I want to include it in a fanfic. Not the same thing! My blog is called IncoherentBabblings for a reason after all!

I will therefore say this: If you want to write about Steph as a character, I would use the below video as a point of reference. Using the below, you can then go into why she resonates with you the way she does, or why her relationship with Tim is so interesting to you.

youtube

If I were you: focus on her dynamic character development: cynical to idealistic. And use three points in her publication history to do this: her introduction in Detective Comics, War Games, and Batgirl. I am sorry to recommend War Games as something to read but it is important to her character. Use the Stephanie Brown Wiki to help!

That lends itself to a biography of her character, a look at her motivations and values, her role within the batfam, and so on. You can also use this to make comparisons with her peers, specifically Tim moving in the exact opposite direction development wise; Babs and Cass in their approaches to Batgirl; and the other Robins through her similar character progression as Dick, which in turn allows her to be a good mentor to Damian, and finally how her character arc runs perpendicular to Jason's. Does that make sense?

Anyway, let's get going! If I were to write an academic piece on Stephanie, these are the main points I would work through. In other words, this is what I would do. You probably will not need nor want to go into this level of depth, and you will want to make it much more personal about why she resonates with you, which may be different to why I love her. So don't worry about touching base with all of them. This is like... 10,000 word essay level stuff. And don't get overwhelmed. I've taken your request far too seriously is all.

Again, I can't write it for you! You gotta do the reading and writing I'm afraid.

...But I still wrote 1,500 words anyway. Gosh darnnit.

Steph’s Character Development

Always keep three points in her character history in mind – her aged 14/15 in her introductory arc in Detective Comics, her aged 16 in War Games, and her aged 18/19 in her Batgirl run.

How does she change? How does she grow as a character? What events caused these changes? Compare that angry 14-year-old trying to choke her father, to the 19-year-old crying happily on the roof. A lot happened between those two points! Outline the main plot beats.

Steph's Role as a Batfam Character:

Protagonist or Antagonist: Supporting Protagonist

Static or Dynamic: Dynamic (think of her character development - angry to alturistic; she softens in her life outlook and in the way she treats others as the years go by)

Minor or Major: Minor and we all mourn that fact :(

Foil or Symbolic: A foil to Tim Drake (and to a lesser extent the other Robins, specifically Jason Todd)

Importance of the character/Position in Society: Fourth Robin, third Batgirl, own superhero. Tim's girlfriend, Cassandra's best friend, one of many of Bruce's 'children'. Initially introduced just as a one-off character for a small arc in Detective Comics, brought back with the intention of being a supporting character to Tim Drake, and eventual love interest. Eventually gained enough popularity on her own terms to support her own solo comic, but has since returned to a supporting role. The character she supports, at the end of the day, is Bruce Wayne.

Motivation

What influences their decisions?: Stephanie's dynamic characterisation comes in here. Compare her motivations during her introductory arc, versus why she does what she does in War Games, versus why she dresses up at Batgirl - Stopping her father, getting Batman's approval, need for redemption.

What do they value?: Values emotional openness, vulnerability, second/third/fourth chances.

Goals/Hopes/Dreams: No long term goals/hopes/dreams in the domestic sense... Continue to be vigilante. Be respected by her peers. Continue to improve self worth through deeds. Graduate college?

What are their views: Views the justice system and police as corrupt, but still trusts in the inherent goodness of people. Focus is usually on the individual, rather than societal or structural.

Actions

Behaviour, Attitudes, Impact on Story and other Characters, Internal Struggle (Wants versus Needs): This is why I think you are best to look at three points in her story - Intro Arc, War Games, Batgirl. Focus on her Wants versus Needs - Steph's take a very long time to align, but they finally do in Batgirl.

Character development is usually driven by the conflict between what a character wants. The plot forces them normally to confront the fact that what they want is not gonna work out, and what they needed instead takes priority.

Everything usually goes tits up for Steph when she is in the driver's seat of the narrative because what she wants from a situation is rarely what she actually needs to happen. See every time she seeks Bruce's approval. She wants it. She absolutely does not need it. And only as Batgirl do we get that acknowledgement, which coincides with her being at the healthiest point in her life emotionally. Look at what she wants as Spoiler during her introductory arc, as Robin/Spoiler during War Games, and then as Batgirl. Why is she so unhappy in the former two? Why have her wants finally aligned with her needs with her time as Batgirl?

Character Traits

Personality: Cynical but perky. Sardonic but sincere. Think about how she changes over the time. This can be attributed to her different writers, but - for example - is there a universe reason for why Batgirl Stephanie is so much more socially awkward than Spoiler Stephanie?

Strengths & Weaknesses: Link these two together because Steph is a very good example where her strengths as a character can simultaneously be a weakness. Her determination can lead to her making ill conceived decisions. Her empathy can lead to her putting her trust in the wrong people. Her forgiving nature can lead to her being taken advantage of. Her temper, whilst landing her in hot water, can also just as often get her out of it.

Relationships

How do they interact with others: Focus on which characters pop up in all three arcs – Steph and her parents; Steph and Bruce; Steph and Tim. I am chucking Cass out the window here, sorry Cass, but if you’re focusing on these three arcs, Cass doesn’t really fit in.

How others view them: Conditional love/affection from her father and Bruce. Unconditional love/affection from Tim and her mother (though both are not without serious pitfalls).

How they view others: Stephanie has explicitly never loved her father. She has also never explicitly hated him either. What does that say about her? Look at her changing closeness with her mother. What changed between them, and again, what does that say about Stephanie? Crystal got sober, supported Stephanie through her pregnancy, Arthur was removed from their lives, Stephanie makes a conscious effort to be closer to her after returning ‘from the dead’, though continues to lie consistently to her. Stephanie admires Bruce, whilst also right from the get go insisting she does not answer to him. She never quite lets go of wanting that approval.

How does society view them: Her outsider role within the Batfam. She never quite belongs, and at points her closest relationships are actively discouraged from seeing her. Which Tim specifically never entertains. This outsider nature bites literally everyone in the butt during War Games. Her outsider status is still in place by the time Batgirl concludes, due to its largely self-contained nature as a book, but this is less being an outsider more having earned to right to operate independently. Trust has been given and earned.

Dialogue

What does she say and how: A teenage girl in New Jersey from a working class background has a very distinct voice. She does not mince words, nor does she hide what she is feeling. If she is happy, she will say so. If she is annoyed, she will say so. What she won’t do is ask for help when she needs it, due to her background formulating a need for her ‘to do things on her own’.

Think of famous/important Steph quotes from the three arcs I keep talking about – the excuse me if I don’t jump when you bark, the I really was part of the legend, the only variable you can control is yourself. These show how Steph views others and herself.

When I was writing I Would Have Loved You, I literally made a spreadsheet where I have picked out what I think are pertinent quotes from every New 52 issue featuring Tim or Steph along with a synopsis that explained what they were up to/what the main theme of the issue was. Not saying you should do the same because I’m just that goddamn anal when it comes to this sort of stuff, but the point is – look for quotes by/about Steph which highlight the above things we’ve talked about. You have thirty years to go through!

Author Intention

What purpose does this character serve?: A character that young female readers could get attached to – the every girl/girl next door archetype or a character that young boys could have a crush on – the kind of girl who’s into the same sort of stuff as you, I think Chuck Dixon once said of her, from her initial appearance. Fodder for Bruce and Tim’s man pain in War Games. Batgirl it’s a combination of filling the void for a female lead solo character in the batbooks, but also tonally taking on a much lighter and self-contained book that new readers could jump into very easily, directly compared to the more lore heavy Batman, Detective Comics, and Red Robin books.

What is the author trying to communicate: Steph’s character shows that determination can only get a person so far, a support system and doing things for the right reasons (again remember that want versus need argument) is the only way a person will genuinely succeed.

What is her main theme?: Balancing cynicism and idealism – doing acts for the right reasons, and discovering what these reasons actually are.

...

Is this even usable for anyone but myself? Possibly not!

Still... Go write! And good luck!

#ask and i'll babble #stephanie brown #tim drake #timsteph #dc #anon i am sorry if i misconstrued your intentions #but i hope if nothing else this helps you verbalise why you like steph and timsteph by extension #good luck for your writing!

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woah-were-halfway-there · 4 years

Text

Just What I Needed

A/N: so many of you have been asking for more of my Along For The Ride series and I 🥺 y’all are the reason I even wrote this new piece and decided to continue the story at all, so shout out to you all. This is going to be a little sub-series of at least a few parts so if you haven’t read any of AFTR first I recommend it. Also, this is takes places right after this one shot here. Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 5.2k

"I think I might be pregnant again."

It took Auston a second to process what you had just said and wrap his head around the concept entirely. When you brought up the topic of having another baby one day, he didn't think you meant right then. But at the same time, he didn't care because there was a possibility he may have another little bean running around soon, and he loved that thought.

"Are you serious?" He finally breathed out and noticed just how anxious you seemed.

"I- yeah. I haven't been physically ill like I was when we found out I was pregnant with Mia, but I've been feeling off. I feel like there's just something going on with my body, and I mean, there's still the likelihood that I'm not pregnant again, but, my period is late and-."

"Hey, you don't have to justify yourself," Auston spoke up when you began rambling. You were thankful for how well he was handling what you said, but you still felt overly emotional about it as you shifted away from him and started petting Frank as a way to keep yourself from crying. However, it didn't take long for your husband to notice what you were doing. "Babe, come here. Talk to me."

He sat upright and moved to pull you close to him again. Once his arm was around your waist, though, he hesitated because he wasn't sure if you wanted your space or not, but when you didn't move away, he took that as a sign to continue.

You weren't sure why you were getting so worked up. For all you knew, it could have most definitely been pregnancy hormones, but you still weren't sure, and that's what was stressing you out.

"I just need to know, Auston," you whispered as you turned to face him again, and he didn't miss a beat by reaching up to wipe away a stray tear that was rolling down your cheek. "I need to know if I'm pregnant so bad, but at the same time, I don't want to."

"What do you mean?"

You sighed.

"I hate not knowing why I'm feeling the way that I am. If I'm not pregnant, then what's wrong with me? And it's so much more than that too. The thought of having another baby right now is scary to me. What if something happens while you're away or I just struggle because you're not here. Remember how stressed we were about that kind of thing with Mia? Sure it all worked out, but the thought still makes me nervous, and the timing would be completely different, seeing as it's November. You were in the off-season for pretty much the entire first half of my pregnancy last time, I had you with me when I felt like I needed it most. I don't know, I feel like I'm getting so worked up now, but I worry about these things, Aus."

"I understand," he nodded and looked away thoughtfully, the expression on his face changing. But you knew that look, he was internally blaming himself over what you had said, but you refused to let him. "I'm sorry you feel uneasy about this and that I can't always be here. I wish I could."

"I know you do, and that's enough, Auston. You're enough."

"It doesn't always feel like it, though. It's like I'm so much, Mia is growing up insanely fast, and I'm not always here for it all. Who's to say it won't be the same or worse when we do have another baby?"

"You're not missing anything, though. As much as I too wish you could be here all the time, you're doing what you love. Mia and I will always be cheering you on as you do that too. Just because you're away sometimes doesn't mean Mia is going to forget about you or love you any less. You know damn well how much of a daddy's girl she is. She can't contain her excitement when you come home from a road trip because she loves you so much. I just know that if and when we have any more kids, it'll be the same."

At that, he smiled before shaking his head.

"I thought I was the one trying to make you feel better."

You chuckled.

"That's kinda how we work, huh? Always levelling the other out in some way."

"Always," he replied before leaning forward to kiss you softly. "We just get each other like that. Which is also how I know there's something else that's bothering you. Come on, spill."

"You're very observant, Matthews," you mumbled while rolling your eyes.

"Please, you find it endearing."

"I find it annoying," you corrected, making him scoff as you chuckled at his reaction. "I'm kidding. But yeah, I guess there is something still bothering me, but it's hard to explain."

"Try me," Auston replied, giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

"It's just, yes, there are things that make me feel uneasy about the possibility of being pregnant, but as I said earlier, I really would love to have more kids. I love thinking about Mia being a big sister one day, and the thought of growing our family together. But what if right now isn't the time to do so? Maybe there never will be a time."

"I don't think the timing is an issue," he stated and began tracing over your knuckles with his thumb. "I can't think of us having more kids being at a bad time, ever. It could be now, or it could be months or years down the road, and I'd still be happy. But only if you're ready, of course."

"I think I am," you told him honestly. "Which is also stressing me out because I do want to be pregnant again. It feels weird to say out loud, but yeah, I'm hoping that I am pregnant, however, maybe I'm not Auston. I have this gut feeling that I am, but I'm afraid I'm getting my hopes up. A lot of people struggle with getting pregnant, Auston. We can't assume we won't because we've already lucked out with our little girl."

You stopped and wiped away a tear you could feel that was about to break free again. Auston was quiet, but after a moment of processing what you just said, he finally spoke up again.

"You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?"

"More than I probably should be. I just really care about it, maybe a little too much."

"There's no such thing as caring too much," he responded and nudged your shoulder so you'd look at him again. "You're just full of so much love, and that's fine. It's part of what makes you an amazing mother to our daughter. We're in this together. Although there may be some bumps along the way, everything is going to be fine. This may be one of those bumps, but it also might be what we're hoping for. Pregnant or not, though, we're going to be ok, Y/N."

It was impossible for you not to be full-on sobbing by that point. Auston always knew what to say when you needed to get out of your own head a little bit, and this situation was no exception. You weren't crying because you were upset or frustrated, you were just so damn emotional having conversations like this one, but so thankful to have him help you get through them.

Once Auston realized you were crying, he quickly pulled you into his embrace and held you tightly. He didn't say anything, just let you get those emotions out while gently rubbing your back and placing soft pecks on your head. After a minute or so went by, he began reassuring you and telling you how much he loved you all without letting you go. It was no wonder how, after that, you eventually started feeling better.

"Thank you, Auston, I needed that," you told him as you moved away, sniffling as you wiped away any stray tears.

"Of course, I'm always going to be here for you, babe. Don't feel like you have to bottle up anything, ok? We're a team."

"The best one," you stated before letting out a shaky breath. "I love you."

"And I love you," he replied while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "We're going to be fine."

"As long as we have each other."

"Exactly," he nodded with a smile.

You returned the smile before shrugging a little bit. "I guess I should go to the store and pick up some tests tomorrow."

"Or I could," he suggested. "Then, you can make an appointment with your doctor if you want, and we can go from there."

"Auston, I'm not going to make you go buy pregnancy tests for me," you told him and shook your head.

"You're not making me do anything, I'm offering to get them. Besides, aren't you and Mia busy tomorrow visiting with Steph?"

"Well, yeah, but-."

"Then I'll do it, Y/N, I'm sure I can manage to buy some pregnancy tests," he retorted. "I'm getting up early, and if Mia is awake, which we both know she will be, I'll take her with me. I want you to relax, alright? Don't worry, I'll take care of everything in the morning, and you can rest up. But, I won't get the tests if you don't want to take them."

"No, I do," you started. "I want to see what they say at least; I just don't want to do it alone."

"You won't have to. I'll be back with them before you even need to start getting ready, and although I have to leave on Sunday, we can still do this together. Deal?"

You smiled and looked down at his extended hand, chuckling at how he was going to make you shake in agreement for this game plan. But regardless, you took his hand and shook it, feeling even more nervous and excited than before.

"Deal."

~*~

The following morning was a bit of a whirlwind, but not necessarily in a bad way.

Your daily routine usually consisted of waking up early with Mia seeing as her sleeping schedule had her getting up around 8 every morning looking for something to eat. And although some days that seemed way too early, there weren't many things you loved more than going into your daughter's room and seeing her smile excitedly once she laid eyes on you.

She loved mornings and seeing her always put you in a good mood as you got her and yourself ready to start the day. But for this particular morning, you didn't have that.

As you slowly blinked your eyes open, you noticed how Auston was not asleep next to you. Although you were aware that he was getting up early, you still couldn't help the small pout that formed on your lips due to his absence.

You weren't even sure how long you'd slept until, but when you reached over to grab your cell phone off the bedside table to see it was almost 10, your eyes widened in a panic. Without a second thought, you sat right up and scrambled out of bed to go get to Mia.

It wasn't until you were about halfway through changing into some track pants and a hoodie that you heard a series of giggles come from downstairs, followed by Auston speaking in a dramatic voice. You let out a sigh of relief, reminding yourself that you weren't a terrible mother and that you had no reason to rush to your daughter's aid seeing as she was perfectly fine hanging out with her dad.

You were about to join them but were hit by an intense wave of nausea that had you rushing to the washroom as quickly as possible. You didn't end up getting sick, but it sure felt like you could, and as soon as you stood up straight again, your mind wandered to what you and Auston discussed the night before. That same thought stayed in your mind while you moved away from the toilet to brush your teeth.

What just happened wasn't the first time you'd felt ridiculously nauseous in the past few weeks, and you just knew it had to mean something. So, with a quick shake of your head, you rinsed off your toothbrush and mentally prepared yourself to head downstairs, wondering how the day's events would play out after talking with Auston again.

When you reached the bottom step, you were greeted by Frank, who looked up at you expectantly as he waited for some head rubs. After leaning down and giving him the attention he craved for a few minutes, you walked towards the living room where music, Auston's off-key singing, and Mia's laughter sounded, bracing yourself for what you were about to walk into.

Slowly, you peeked around the doorframe, hoping to go unnoticed for a little while longer as you peered into the room and observed as Auston held Mia, swaying with her as he sang along Van Morrison's Brown Eyed Girl. Thoroughly enjoying what you were witnessing, you moved further into the room and leaned against the frame with your arms crossed over your chest as the other two kept dancing around without a care in the world.

"You, my brown-eyed girl," Auston sang as he dipped Mia towards the ground before bringing her right back up again, earning another series of giggles from the toddler as she wrapped her arms around her dad's neck and snuggled closer to him with a huge smile. You couldn't help but feel your heart swell with affection as you watched your two favourite people interact the way they did, and didn't dare interrupt them. It was just too good seeing how strong of a bond those two had; however, it didn't take long for Mia to notice your presence lurking nearby.

"Mommy!" She exclaimed excitedly, wasting no time taking her head off Auston's shoulder so she could look at you better while reaching her hand outwards.

"And what am I?" Auston asked your daughter in a tone that made it seem like he was greatly offended. "We were having a great time, but that doesn't matter anymore cause your mom is here now, huh, punk?"

He then scrunched his face at her before bringing his hand up in a threatening way, then moving it to her belly and tickling until she squealed and giggled all over again.

"No, daddy!" Mia stated between laughs while trying to push his hand away, but Auston kept going. They carried on like that for another moment, before Mia looked at you again and decided she just was not having it anymore. "Mama!"

How she called out to you was like a mix of pouting and whining, something she tended to do when she wasn't getting her way. You and Auston expected that from an almost-two-year-old, but sometimes she was just so damn sassy, and it'd catch you both off guard.

"Woah, ok, alright," Auston said and moved to set Mia down. By that point, she was a walking machine and had no issue making the few steps she had to take to get to where you were standing. Once she reached you, she already had a smile on her face and was no longer frustrated as you leaned down to pick her up.

"Now, you know how I feel when you come home from away games, and she no longer wants anything to do with me," you teased your husband before looking at Mia as she clung onto you. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You love your daddy very much, don't you?"

"Ya," she responded and leaned against your shoulder, all while looking towards her dad knowingly.

The way Mia had Auston so effortlessly wrapped around her finger was a very amusing thing to see. Since the two of you started dating, you had seen how dead serious Auston could be in certain situations, but when it came to his daughter, that side of him was almost non-existent.

With him, Mia could get away with just about anything. He was always incredibly soft with her, and you knew how much he hated being the 'mean' parent when one of you had to be. On more than one occasion, he had guilted you into being the one to explain to Mia how something she did was bad. Although the two of you did work as a team to tackle the teaching and disciplining of your daughter, you still knew it was especially hard on him sometimes.

It wasn't like Mia had a favourite parent or anything either. She adored both you and Auston so, so much. When times came where she was a bit too sassy or was misbehaving, you hated having to not be cool and explain to her the way she was acting wasn't ok. But, it was all part of your parenting job. You and Auston were the ones responsible for Mia's development and wellbeing, and although that itself was a stressful thought sometimes, she always made it worth it.

At just 22 months, she already had such a big personality, and it always showed. It was never hard to tell what kind of mood she was in, or how she felt because those emotions were always being expressed, and you loved seeing the little person she was becoming with each passing day.

"Frank, mommy," Mia spoke up, snapping you out of your thoughts while pointing towards the Goldendoodle as he passed the two of you and headed towards the kitchen. "Frank, come back!"

"I think he wants something to eat, Hunny. What about you? Did hanging out with daddy all morning make you hungry too?"

"Mhm," she replied while nodding.

"Ok, well then, why don't we go get you some bananas, hmm?" You asked, and she nodded again. "Then we can watch a movie and play with Frank, all you want. Do you remember who we're going to visit later today?"

"Steph!"

"Yes!" You exclaimed and leaned down to peck her on the cheek, before lowering your voice to a whisper, but still loud enough that Auston could hear. "And don't tell your daddy, but I think Mitchy is going to be there too."

"Mitchy!" She squealed, making you chuckle.

"What?" Auston scoffed as he stepped closer to the two of you. "I thought you two and Steph were having a girl's day."

"We were originally, but Mitch isn't doing anything today," you told him. "After Mia has a nap, the plan was to go over to their house anyway, but now I think we're going to stay in and make tacos or something there instead of going out to eat. Come with us, if you're feeling up for it. Maybe we can invite them here."

"Well, you know I'm not one to turn down a good meal," he responded. "I have to run downtown real quick at some point today to pick up that new suit, but other than that, I was just going to hang out with Frank while you two were gone. I'd love to join."

"Perfect," you smiled as you cuddled closer to Mia and started making way to the kitchen to get your daughter her snack.

You moved around the large granite island smoothly as you walked to the fridge to grab some juice and a banana from where a bunch of them rested on the counter nearby. Just as you were about to grab the cutting board to start prepping the snack, Auston swooped in and took Mia from your hold to get her settled in her chair as you continued with what you were doing. You smiled at him thankfully before peeling the banana and cutting it up into slices for Mia to munch on, knowing it would keep her from getting hungry again until actual lunchtime.

Once you finished cutting the fruit, you put the slices on one of Mia's colourful plastic dishes and gave it to her before going back to make yourself something to eat as well.

"Babe, sit down, I can make us something," Auston spoke as he snuck up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"You haven't eaten yet?" You asked as you spun around in his hold and let him push you gently back against the counter.

"No, wasn't that hungry. And I wanted to wait for you."

The next thing you knew, he was leaning down to catch your lips in a soft, but needy kiss. You smiled at the contact as you slowly moved your hands up his arms, before wrapping them around the back of his neck and pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. After a few moments of doing that, you pulled away and smiled up to your husband.

"Good morning."

"Good morning to you, too," Auston replied with a goofy grin before pulling you into his embrace. You chuckled while shaking your head but soon relaxed as you rested against his chest and glanced over at Mia; your smile widening as you observed your daughter off in her own little world. "How are you feeling?"

"Alright," you told him. "Was a little nauseous when I first got up, but it passed fairly quickly."

He hummed in response and began rubbing up and down your back in a comforting manner. Nothing else was said between the two of you after that. You both found enough comfort in the other's presence while quietly observing Mia as she watched Frank, while he stared out the sliding glass doors at the birds roaming around in the backyard.

You were content. There wasn't one thing you didn't love about the little life you and Auston created together. It just seemed so perfect, but yet, you still felt like something was missing.

Your gaze then trailed over to the small breakfast table on the other side of the kitchen, where a white plastic bag with the logo of the pharmacy down the road sat. You didn't even have to ask Auston to know what was in the bag, but you still found yourself moving away from him and walking towards it. Auston followed and watched as you looked in the bag, and sure enough, inside, there were five different types of pregnancy tests.

"I didn't know what one to get," he spoke softly. "There were so many different brands and types. I kinda decided just to wing it and hope for the best."

"No, it's ok," you replied and turned back to face him. "I appreciate you picking these up for me."

"Of course. Don't want you to worry about a thing."

At that, you smiled before snapping your attention to Mia as she let out a loud noise.

"Frank!" She called, and you leaned over to see Frank leaving the room, much to your daughter's dismay.

"I'm convinced she loves him more than she does us sometimes," Auston whispered as he leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

"Oh, shut up," you laughed and swatted his arm. "They're best friends."

Auston just chuckled and shook his head before standing up straight again and stepping towards Mia.

"All done with your banana, baby girl?"

"All done," she repeated while raising her arms as if to say she wanted out of her chair.

"I figured, seeing as half of it is on the floor," he teased as he leaned down to pick up the fallen fruit, before tossing them out and going back to pick Mia up and kiss her cheek. "Well, Miss Mia, why don't we go to wash your hands, then we can take Frank to the park, and when we come home, we can watch a movie."

"Lion, daddy?"

"Yes, of course, we can watch the Lion King… again."

"Solid plan, that'll wear her out a little bit," you joked as you filled a glass with water and sipped on it, mentally preparing yourself to take the pregnancy tests.

"Gotta get that nap in somehow," Auston responded with a wink as he grabbed a baby wipe and washed off Mia's hands before exiting into the hallway to get himself, and your daughter dressed to go outside.

"For our sanity and hers, yes," you chuckled and followed after them.

"Mommy come?" You heard Mia ask as Auston zipped up her winter coat.

"No, sweetie, I'm going to stay here and make breakfast for your dad and me. But when you get back, I'll have your blanket and stuffy all set up for your movie."

"I thought I was making breakfast," Auston said and turned back to face you.

"Chill, Matthews, I got it," you responded. "Don't need you burning our toast to a crisp like you did the other day."

"Not my fault, the setting was so high," he grumbled and rolled his eyes. He then set Mia down to put on his coat and grab Frank's leash so the three could head on out, but for some reason, he seemed a little hesitant to go.

And you knew exactly why.

"Auston, I'm going to wait until you're back to take those tests," you told him. "We're in this together, remember?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "We'll be back in like 20 minutes."

"Awesome gives me enough time to make some food and drink more water. See you three in a little bit."

"Bye, mommy!" Mia called as Auston opened the front door, and she began following him and Frank outside.

"Bye, baby," you said and stood there smiling until the door closed, and you were on your own. "Alright, let's get this show on the road."

Just like Auston had said, he, Mia and Frank was all back around 20 minutes later. In that time to yourself, you downed three glasses of water and cooked some bacon and eggs. However, you seemingly lost your appetite when it came to actually eating anything.

"Aus, I think I'm going to take those tests now," you said after a few minutes of picking at the food on your plate. The two of you were sitting at your kitchen's little breakfast bar, facing the living room so you'd both be able to keep an eye on Mia as she sat on the couch watching the Lion King, and your nerves were just getting too bad to wait any longer. "My anxiety is through the roof right now."

He slowly nodded in response, and you could tell he was thinking about what to say next. After taking a sip of his water, he glanced over at you and spoke up.

"Do you want your space?"

"Yeah," you told him honestly. "I'll come to get you once I'm done."

"Ok," he smiled and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Leave your plate; I'll clean up. Let me know if you need anything."

"I will."

You stood up from the stool and walked over to where the pharmacy bag still sat. After grabbing it, you glanced back to the living room to check on Mia one last time before walking down the hall to the main floor washroom and doing what you needed to do.

About ten minutes later, you left the washroom with your phone in hand and a timer set. You remained quiet as you entered the living room and crawled into the spot beside Auston, where he sat on the couch. He didn't say anything, He just pulled you closer and let you cuddle into his side, knowing all that needed to be said would happen in the next few minutes. He watched as you kept tapping your phone screen to life, anxiously counting down the seconds to when the two of you could go see what each of the tests said.

Mia was oblivious to everything going on. She was very quiet, laying a few feet away from you on the couch, cuddling with Frank and her stuffed whale, while fighting extremely hard to keep her eyes open as Timon and Pumba started singing Hakuna Matata. The walk sure did its job in tiring her out enough to take a nap, and with each passing moment, you could see her eyes getting droopier until finally, they closed completely.

And then your alarm went off.

You and Auston both jumped slightly at the sudden noise, before instinctively looking over to see if it had woken Mia up. Luckily it didn't, and once you realized that, you both slowly glanced back at each other knowingly.

"Ready?" Auston asked.

"Yeah," you spoke quietly. "As ready as I'll ever be."

The two of you stood up then and went over to place some pillows near Mia. She wasn't much of a mover when she slept, and the couch cushion was wide enough that she shouldn't accidentally roll off onto the floor, but still, you and Auston were both careful and made sure to plan for the worst in case it were ever to happen. Auston then placed a small blanket over her for if she got cold. Then, he made sure to pet Frank before linking his hand with yours and guiding you back down the hallway towards the washroom.

You had left the door open and could easily see the four tests you did sitting where you left them on the counter and didn't know what to feel. You saved the fifth one on purpose for if you needed further confirmation of whether you were indeed pregnant or not, and after one final glance at Auston, you stepped into the room to see what each one said.

After glancing down at the first test, your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. There was no plus or minus symbol, no message on the tiny screen indicating what you wanted to know so bad, no nothing, and that didn't sit right with you. Without even thinking, you reached out and grabbed Auston's hand, hoping for some reassurance because you could already feel your hope slipping away, and then he spoke up.

"Babe, look at the other three."

So, you did, and sure enough, each one stated that you were indeed pregnant again.

"Oh, my God," you gasped as a sob involuntarily left your mouth. You immediately moved a hand up to cover your mouth and look at Auston with watery eyes before pulling you in for a tight hug. "We're having another baby."

"We're going to be parents again, Y/N. It doesn't seem real."

"It is," you blubbered and squeezed him even more. "I'm so happy Auston; I just had a feeling that I was and-."

"I know, I know," he soothed while rubbing his hand up and down your back. You couldn't tell with how your face was buried against the fabric of the hoodie he wore, but he was smiling so damn wide. He was ecstatic and instinctively wanted to know more. How far along were you? When would the doctor predict your due date would be? And most importantly, was the baby healthy?

Auston had so many questions, but he was aware that it wasn't the time to ask them. He knew this was going to be yours and his little secret for the time being. Although he was content with that, he was just so excited and couldn't wait to see how the rest of how everything would play out.

And neither could you.

#nhl imagines #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #auston matthews imagines #nhl imagine #auston matthews fanfiction #hockey imagines #toronto maple leafs imagine #hockey imagine #auston matthews imagine #hockey rpf #hockey fanfiction #auston matthews #nhl rpf #nhl headcanon

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thanks-captain-obvious · 4 years

Text

So here is the continuation of my Daminette hc since it seems that no one really like to stop me.

No. The Batfam did not abandon Marinette suddenly because of seemingly questionable reaction to fear toxin. But more on that later.

So as I was saying, Robin is acting really weird during patrol and the Batfam couldn't help but notice.

But who could blame him when it really bothers him? Marinette seems so always cool and collected. Always moving with grace and with purpose.

But that Marinette that he saw? The Marinette who cries in her sleep. That is not the Marinette he knew. And it bothers him.

He chalked it up to a reluctant sibling feeling on his side and dare he say it, he's already warming up to Marinette.

Marinette just seems—invicible. Just like his mother.

Cool. Calm. Collected.

How wrong he was

Why would she cry?

Anyway, Batfam decided its Dicky bird that will talk to Damian by the end of patrol because nothing has bothered their youngest this much since Talia.

But Robin easily evaded Dick's concern by saying he's tired.

So now, the Batfam has two dillemas. Namely— Damian and Marinette.

Anyway, Damian decided to watch Marinette closely the next day.

Marinette is her usual, sunny self. Smiling kindly at everyone, bonding with Alfred in the kitchen, playing UMS with Tim or just watching Jason lift weights in the gym.

It may seem like a dickish move but Damian deliberately spilled coffee on Marinette's sketches just to rile up Marinette.

Jason is so ready to shoot him right then and there. After all, it was only recently that Marinette started designing clothes again.

And it may be worth it after all. Because Damian saw it.

For a split second, Marinette's eyes had misted over it like she is about to cry. In fact, if Damian isn't watching really, really close, he would miss it.

It quickly change over into something unreadable before her eyes settles into those calm sapphires once again.

And so for the next few days, Damian will try to provoke Marinette over and over again.

To no avail.

Meanwhile, Dick tried to talk him again. Of course, he dismissed the concern easily by saying he got it handled.

Anyway, Bruce will finally had enough of Damian's obvious attempts at provoking Marinette so he will talk to his son about it.

But before he could let a word out, Tim will rush into the study and blurt out two words that will instantly make both of them pale.

She knows

During dinner with Cass and Steph in the Manor(they wanted to meet their new sister), the Bats will address the elephant in the room.

Marinette will then explain how she find it odd that Bruce offered to adopt her just after she mentioned to Batman that she is an orphan.

She then will tell them all about herself (minus being Ladybug) and say that she will kept all their secrets and there is no need to worry.

Marinette will also explain how she deleted her data on the internet and steal all her school records in Paris before burning them off.

She explained when she went to Gotham, she wanted to start over.

Tim is impressed with all that of course. But one question remains, how are you immune to fear toxin?

Which Marinette answered happily and she narrated all about Hawkmoth and his reign. Living under Hawkmoth had enabled her to control her emotions not just on surface level.

Bruce expressed his concerns if she had been akumatized.

Marinette smiled graciously and said no and kept it at that.

Batfam is appaled to learn that something of this magnitude happened to Paris under their noses without anyone noticing.

Alfeed then stepped in and expressed that Marinette needs her rest now.

But in the midst of all that, something still nags at Damian.

Why come to Gotham? Another city full of terror.

The answer came to him when Damian got hostaged by the Joker.

She is Ladybug, the hero that once protected Paris.

He realized this when Marinette easily managed to save him single-handedly through some convoluted plan.

Ladybug's trademark and way of defeating akuma, if what Tim had managed to unearth about Ladybug is true.

And while he may not have Tim's genius mind, Damian is not the son of the greatest detective for nothing.

Of course he managed to put two and two together.

So Damian confronted Marinette about it much later.

It was then that Marinette completely opened herself up.

And to him nonetheless!

Marinette told him how she got her Miraculous— the thing that gives her powers, about her partner, about Hawkmoth, about everything that lead up to the confrontation against Hawkmoth and how she is too late to save her parents.

And how, every single day, she tortures herself of what could have been.

And so she explained that the fear toxin did not much do anything to her because she is, in fact, already living in her nightmare every single day— her parents dying because she had been too careless.

No matter how much Damian tried to tell her its not her fault, to Marinette, everything had been her fault.

After that conversation, Damian and Marinette had been closer.

Everybody in the Manor noticed of course. Damian and Marinette would spend hours alone sketching and walking around Gotham. Or just plain talking.

Damian would also sometimes spar with Marinette to train her knowing that she defeated a supervillain before without any semblance of training, what more if she had mentor who actually teach her how to fight?

Dick, as usual, had been the first one to confront Damian about the pair's newfound closeness. But Damian just rolled his eyes and say that he realized that she is more tolerable than any of you combined.

Then, Bruce, Tim, Jason, Steph.

It was only Cass that actually managed to get something out of Damian.

"She is so much more than meets the eye." He said.

After that, the Batfam contentedly accept the situation, even if the obvious inside jokes are a bit unnerving, to say the least.

I mean, Damian is smiling and joking around with her.

And where even the nickname "Little Lady" had come from?

Everything is sunshine and rainbows until Marinette received a call one day. A call from one Adrien Agreste.

Damian recognized the name and immediately rushed out to defend Marinette. Adrien Agreste, Gabriel Agreste's son.

He is so sure that Adrien is here to take revenge on Marinette for his father.

Only to be surprised by Marinette's squeal of excitement upon seeing the blonde.

Marinette rushed out to the bottom of the stairs and into Adrien Agreste's arms.

For some reason, seeing Marinette hugging Adrien tightly made him want to kill the bastard more.

Cass saw Damian's reaction and squinted her eyes at his brother.

Anyway, their hug is interrupted by Damian clearing his throat.

When Marinette looked at him, she gave him a sheepish smile and a look that says "Later"

Everyone welcomed Adrien and offered to have him stay for a week after Marinette said that he is a dear friend from Paris. Adrien easily agreed and the two went off with Alfred to sort out the room Adrien will stay in.

Meanwhile, Tim saw Damian's dirty look at the blonde and his tight grip at his cutlery. Cass caught his eyes and mentally confirmed what he just saw.

Cass gave a subtle nod at that.

Smirking, Tim took a gulp from his coffee.

For a few days, Marinette will tour Adrien around the City while Damian will sulk at his room. Whenever Marinette and Adrien is around, Damian will always snap irritably at the two of them. This will result at Bruce scolding Damian.

Damian, being the brat that he is, will leave the table.

Marinette will confront Damian one night and explained that Adrien is Chat Noir and a dear friend of her and for Damian to act nice around him.

Damian will say he already knows by seeing how the blonde is being as bratty as his superhero namesake.

Marinette slapped him before promptly leaving the room.

On the other hand, Marinette and Adrien will finally have the Talk.

Adrien will reveal that he is in the process of being adopted by Amelia and Marinette will likewise admit that Bruce is in the process of adopting her.

Adrien will then give her a chuckle and say: I don't know about that, Bugaboo. One of your "brothers" seems like he will be against the idea.

When Marinette demanded what he meant, he simply gave her a wide chesire grin.

And there it is! Another one of my cringe-worthy Daminette hc. Let me know if you want me to stop or you are so bored you have nothing to read anymore aside my cringy Daminette ideas.

Part 1 • Here • Part 3

Taglist:

@loysydark @eliza-bich @ilovefluffbutsmutisalsogreat @iwritelikeimrunningoutoftime @goblinwhoships @amayakans

@pawsitivelymiraculous @i-am-ironic @emilytopaz

Edit: added the links.

#daminette fanart #daminette headcanon #daminette sort of fanfic #daminette #maribat #mlb x dc

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justinalovee · 4 years

Text

Empty souls

0.01

Notes: Hello all, this is my first attempt at writing a 100 fic. It will stray from the original story, but I’ll try to stick to it best I can. Hope you enjoy.

“Not long now,” Jill grumbled to herself.

Huffing, she slumped against the wall opposite her tally marks. They sealed her up in the Skybox just after her sixteen birthday, and today she turned eighteen and would be floated for her ‘crimes’.

“Any minute now.” She mumbled to herself.

Talking to herself had become her new normal to make up for her lack of communication with others. Sitting with her legs crossed, hand shaking while poised over the side of her boot, Jill always had a knife hidden in it. Depending on what guard walked through the doors, she might need to use it. All she wanted was to tell the truth, but the ark's council would never let that happen.

As she heard the heavy footsteps getting closer, Jill prepared herself mentally. This was it.

“Prisoner eighty-nine turn and look at the wall with your hands behind your back.” A guard’s voice called in before they even opened the door.

Doing as she was told, Jill called back. “I’ve done it.”

It surprised Jill when the guard entered the cell alongside a young woman in a medical uniform. After the women inspected her vitals, the guard clamped a thick metal bracelet around her left wrist.

“What the hell is going on? You need to tell me? Jill demanded.

“You are going to the ground.” The guard informed her.

The ground? Was this some kind of sick joke? Nobody had lived on earth for a long time. It was physically impossible.

From then on everything happened so fast. Before Jill knew what was happening, she was among the one hundred being sent to the ground.

Jill tried to look at the bright side. At least she got to live a little longer. What she would be alive to see would remain a mystery.

On her way to meet the other ‘prisoners’ she walked past doctor Abby Griffin, and it took everything in her power not to try and rip her head off. The older women was supposed to protect them...she should have fought for them. Instead, she did nothing. Doctor or not, Jill would always think of the women as a coward. When Abby looked at her walking past, they shared a knowing look without saying a word.

______

When they landed on the ground a few things became clear, firstly the ‘no rules’ life would never work. Second, it was going to be a dick measuring competition to see who got to run the place. The third thing that Jill knew for sure was Bellamy Blake was hiding something. Behind his macho persona, he was scared.

Bored of listening to a girl called Clarke talking so much about how they needed to go find some mountain, Jill wandered off away from the crowds. She struggled to believe that all the surrounding greens were real. Even though she had read it in books, Jill had no idea how large the trees would be, or how bright the different colors would look. It felt surreal. Closing her eyes, she let her mind wonder to what it would be like to feel grass underneath her bare feet for the first, or...

“Jillian?”

Jill turned to see John Murphy running towards her. He picked her up and hugged her tightly, spinning her round. He had gotten so much taller than the last time she met him.

“What the hell are you doing here? I never even saw you on the way down” he said, still holding her.

“I got arrested not long after...you know. What about you? Why are you here, John?” Jill asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

She was so happy to see him that Jill never noticed the way Murphy changed when he saw Bellamy glancing over at them. He had let go of her and his excitement seemed to have died down.

Murphy never responded, he just pulled the woolly hat that covered her head down somewhat and chuckled. “I’m glad you’re still alive.”

Jill watched him walking away, smiling. Apart from getting taller and filling out a bit more, he still looked the same as she remembered. She was glad he was on the ground. John was a good guy, Jill just hoped he didn’t get too carried away being Bellamy’s ‘right-hand man’.

Turning to her left Jill saw someone else she recognized. “Steph?”

The redheaded girl looked up at her with tears in her eyes. “Jill? Is that you?” She asked quietly.

The young girl's breath was hitched and broken from crying so much. Jill kneeled down beside her. “Hey, are you okay?”

Steph couldn’t have been older than fifteen now and seemed distressed.

“She’s been like this since we landed. See if you can get her to shut up!” One of the older boys called Harrison hissed.

Jill stuck the finger up at him before helping the girl to her feet. “Why don’t we go a walk? Get you some space away from all the noise.”

Steph nodded. Jill knew Steph just needed some time to adjust to what had happened. They had only been on the earth for roughly an hour, anyway. Coming to earth from lockup was a lot scarier for some of them and being around asshole boys like Bellamy and Harrison wouldn’t help her feel any better.

“When did you get locked up?” Jill asked curiously.

“Shortly after you.”

Damn it, another life ruined for no reason.

______

As they walked through the forest, Bellamy was frowning. His sister had run off with Clarke and her band of merry men, instead of staying like he wished. All he wanted was to keep her safe, but as usual his stupidly naïve sister didn’t listen to him. He would need to find a babysitter for her at this rate.

Bellamy also couldn’t help but notice the foolish smirk that was on Murphy’s face, he didn’t know why but it was annoying him. He had seen the way Murphy had looked at the girl with the stupid wooly hat earlier. Jill seemed like trouble and a distraction. He wondered how far Murphy’s loyalty for her went.

“Who were you talking to before?” Bellamy asked with a flat tone in his voice.

“Just someone I know from the ark.” Murphy frowned. He didn’t want to talk about her.

“What was her name? Jill?”

Murphy responded, “Jillian Slate.”

Slate? “Slate? As in councillor Laura and Thomas Slate’s daughter?” Bellamy asked wide-eyed.

Murphy nodded. Bellamy had heard the stories about what happened at the ark's orphanage. The infamous Jillian Slate looked nothing like he imagined she would. He had pictured someone a lot bigger and feral looking.

“Right” Bellamy deadpanned. “Just remember no distractions. You can’t take your eyes off the prize for anything, you can screw her after we get everyone’s bracelets off.”

Murphy wasn’t sure why, but his hands balled into fists. Jill wasn’t some whore who he would ‘screw’. If anybody but Bellamy had said that about her, he would have put them on the ground without a second thought. Murphy didn’t want to go against him for any reason so soon...however he had his limits, and Jill was one of them.

“Is it true?” Bellamy asked without looking back at him.

“No.”

Bellamy smirked, knowing he was getting Murphy riled up. “You know, Wells and Clarke don’t trust her. They think she’s a danger to the rest of us.”

“Wells and Clarke better mind their own fucking business.” Murphy snapped.

Bellamy’s smirk faded as they walked back towards the camp. He could see kids gathering and yelling.

“Bellamy!” A kid called Monty yelled while running towards him.

“What’s going on?” He demanded.

“Octavia got bitten by something in the water and they have speared jasper.” Monty said before leading him towards Octavia.

No. No. No, this couldn’t be happening. Bellamy wasn’t ready to lose his sister. She was everything to him.

Next chapter

#the 100 #john murphy #bellamy blake #the 100 imagine #John Murphy/oc #Bellamy Blake/oc #clarke griffin #octavia blake #Murphy the 100 #Bellamy the 100 #john murphy imagine #the 100 fanfiction #the 100 fandom

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alarawriting · 4 years

Text

52 Project #30 (Writeober #15: Mortality): Everybody’s Happy As The Dead Come Home

Ever since my mother died of breast cancer a few years ago, I’ve been making time to go visit my elderly father about once a month. That may be conjuring up the wrong image in your head, so let me clarify. My father’s over 70, but he still has a lot of the energy he had as a younger man. He works as a consultant for the big corporation he spent his entire adult pre-retirement life working for, for about three or four times as much money, and he enjoys it. He’s got an active social life, spending time with friends he had shared with Mom as a couple, and new friends he’s made from his bereavement group or his consulting work. And my sister, the baby of the family, lives with him, and my two younger brothers come to visit him a lot more often, since they live a lot closer than I do. So if you’re imagining a lonely, stooped old man pining away in a house that smells like stale cat food – that’s not my dad, and I can’t imagine it would ever be.

I arrived late on a Friday night, as usual. My sister met me at the door, and actually looked me directly in the eye. Stephanie’s autistic; she never looks anyone in the eye. “Eleanor,” she said, and that was another strange thing, because she almost never calls anyone by name… unless she’s doing it for emphasis. “When you find out, don’t say anything about it,” she said.

“About what?” Most of the time Stephanie makes sense, but every so often she says something that sounds like her mind has jumped ahead in the conversation without realizing all the missing pieces she never bothered to say.

“You’ll know,” she said. “And you’ll want to ask ‘why’ and ‘how’, and I’m telling you that you can’t do that. Don’t ask any questions. Just come talk to me after you’re done.”

“Done with what?” I asked.

And then a voice called me from the TV room. “Lennie? Lennie, is that you?”

Only my mom and dad are allowed to call me Lennie. And that was a woman’s voice. I froze in place.

“Go see her,” Stephanie said, and headed off to her room.

I turned toward the TV room, slowly. “Lennie! Come out and see me!” my mom’s voice called.

I didn’t know whether to be terrified, or to start crying and fling myself into her arms. I walked very slowly, very cautiously, to the edge of the kitchen, where I could see my parents in the TV room. Both of my parents. My dad was smiling.

“Lennie!” my mom said, standing up. She hadn’t been able to stand up without help for months before she died, but here she was, standing up easily. She didn’t look any younger than she had when she died, but she looked healthier. The extreme thinness she’d suffered from at the end after it had metastasized and she’d barely been able to eat was gone; her flesh was filled out, her skin as taut as you could expect from a woman her age, and healthy-looking. Pale, but her natural paleness, not the weird, sallow, almost yellow color it had been at the very end.

“Mom?” I whispered.

“Come here. I need a hug,” Mom said, sounding exactly like she always had – joking, but there was always that note of truth under it. She didn’t wait for me to make my way to her – she never had, not until she was too ill to get up – but came straight for me and gave me a hug, and she smelled like herself. Not like a rotting corpse, not like ozone or nothing or whatever a ghost is supposed to smell like.

When I was a kid, my brother Jeff and I watched the miniseries version of “The Martian Chronicles”. In particular, he was always impressed (and terrified) by the part where the astronauts meet their long-lost loved ones, who turn out to be Martian shapechangers luring them to their deaths. I always wondered, if the people they saw on Mars were dead, how did they fall for it? How did they not know that dead people could not somehow be on Mars?

As I held my mom, who’d been dead a few years now, I understood. They’d wanted to believe. I wanted to believe. Stephanie had warned me not to ask anything – no “how are you not dead”, “how can you be here”, “why are you alive,” nothing like that. I assumed that was what she’d meant, anyway.

“Mom, I’ve been trying to trace some of my past that I’ve forgotten. Do you remember the name of my third grade teacher?”

“Huh.” My mom seemed to be thinking about it. “I think it was Mrs. Wilder, but I’m not a hundred percent sure. Second grade was Ms. Jenner, right? And fourth was Mrs. White?”

“Yeah,” I said. I didn’t, in fact, remember my third grade teacher’s name, and neither did my dad. The Martians in the story had been telepaths; they’d been able to perfectly impersonate the astronauts’ loved ones because they could read the astronauts’ minds. Now I had a piece of information whose answer I didn’t know, and no way to easily confirm it unless Jeff remembered; he was only two years younger than me and had had some of the same teachers. But some of the people I had friended on Facebook were high school classmates, and a tiny number of my high school classmates had also been with me in elementary school, and might remember my third grade teacher’s name.

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” my mom said. “What’s going on in your life?”

“Oh, you know,” I said. “Things are going okay. Mom, if I’d known you were here I’d have brought the kids.”

“You can bring them up next time,” Mom said.

This was so weird. My mom was definitely dead. I had seen her body in the coffin, lying in state, looking nothing like she had in life. But here she was, impossibly, and I was holding an almost normal conversation with her. “Have Jeff or Aaron come over since you’ve… been here?”

“Jeff was here last weekend,” Dad said. “And Aaron lives next door, so he’s been over nearly every day.”

My grandparents used to live next door. When they died, my mom and my uncle inherited the house. My uncle bought out my mom’s share and rented the house out, and my youngest brother ended up renting it. My other brother lives in an apartment down in the city; I’m the odd one out, living in a completely different state, with a husband and kids.

So all of them had known, and none of them had told me. I expected Stephanie and Aaron to never tell me anything, but I was more than a little irritated with Jeff.

“Let me go drop off my stuff,” I said, since I was still carrying my bag.

I went back to Stephanie’s room, which used to be my room, a long time ago. The boys used to room together, but my room was too small for Stephanie to share with me, and she had needed a lot of space of her own… so they’d converted the loft in the garage into a bedroom. It had never been warm in the winter, though, so as soon as I moved out, Stephanie had moved in.

Stephanie was, as usual, on her computer. I shut the door behind me. “Okay. What the hell is going on?”

“She’s not the only one,” Stephanie said, without looking away from her computer. “I’ve been doing research. They’re all over the place. There’s no explanation yet, and apparently none of them will talk about it. I asked Mom and she said I was really rude, and sulked and was really passive-aggressive.”

“So we’re not worried about Mom turning into a Martian shapechanger or vanishing, we’re just worried that she’ll get mad?” To be fair, making Mom mad had always been a thing worth avoiding at all costs. “When did she come back?”

“I don’t know exactly, but presuming that she came to see me right after she came back, it would have been Monday around 3 pm.”

“And no one told me? You have my email address!”

“…It just didn’t feel right, telling you something like this in email. I felt like I should wait for you to be here.”

“And Jeff didn’t? And Aaron didn’t?”

Stephanie shrugged. She still didn’t look away from her computer. “They probably felt the same way.”

“Does Dad… know? Like, does he even remember that Mom is dead, or does he think this is normal?”

“I didn’t ask him.”

I sat down on her bed. “Steph, I’m asking you to make an informed guess. Has he said anything to you that would either suggest that he’s aware this is abnormal, or that he isn’t?”

“I don’t read minds, but I haven’t heard anything from him one way or the other. He’s very happy, though.”

“I got that impression,” I told her. I went to the guest room, which used to belong to the boys, opened up my laptop, and sent Jeff a question on Facebook about my third grade teacher.

Mom appeared while I was debating whether or not to also ask him why the hell he hadn’t told me about her. “Lennie, don’t hide in your room. Come out and talk to me and your dad. You need to catch me up on your life!”

Part of me wanted to break down crying. Part of me wanted to run to the car. Part of me was annoyed the way I always used to be annoyed when my mom wanted to spend time with me and I had stuff to do. And part of me hated myself for being annoyed by my mom for any reason at all. She was back from the dead and I wanted to hide in my room? But I wanted to hide in my room because I wanted to do research to figure out if this was really my mom or not. And what had Stephanie meant by “all over the place”? People all over the place had returned from the dead? Why wasn’t this all over the news?

What I said was, “Okay, mom,” and I went out to the TV room to talk to her.

***

Here I was, having a completely mundane conversation with a dead woman.

Yes, my husband was doing well at his consulting business. Yes, my oldest daughter was doing well in college. My youngest daughter had a rough spot a few years ago but was doing better. The daughter in the middle was putting a lot of time into her music, and was getting really good. I didn’t mention that my oldest daughter had gotten a diagnosis of autism like her aunt, or that my middle daughter was failing all her subjects because all she cared about was music, or that my youngest daughter was openly bisexual and dating a nonbinary teen in her class, because those would be fraught topics around here. My mother would be openly disapproving of the failing in school – as was I, but I wasn’t here to listen to a lecture about what I should be doing differently to make sure Rhiannon passed her classes – and she’d be what she thought counted as supportive about the other things. Are you sure it’s a good idea for Janie to have an autism diagnosis on her medical record? Lots of people will discriminate against her, just ask Stephanie, it’s not a good thing to admit to the world. And if Lori wanted to date a person who claimed to have no gender, good for her, but was she sure it was a good idea to admit to the world that she was bi when the world is so prejudiced? Blah blah blah. No. I wasn’t going there, not with my mother back from the dead.

All the questions I wanted to ask. How? How was she back? Why? Was there an afterlife after all? What was it like? Are you absolutely sure you’re not a telepathic shapechanger who wants to eat us? Is anyone else coming back or is it just you? But I couldn’t do it. My mouth wouldn’t make the words, and I felt like Mom being alive was a soap bubble that might burst any moment. If I said she was dead, would she disappear? I couldn’t take the risk.

Now I knew why Jeff and Aaron hadn’t told me. The compulsion not to talk about it, the fear that talking about the circumstances of her death and her apparently-no-longer-deadness would cause her to stop being no-longer-dead. I wouldn’t be able to tell my husband about this, or my kids, not unless they came here. Not without feeling like Mom might disappear if I did.

Which was probably how Stephanie had gotten away with it, in the beginning. If this was some kind of emotional pressure, something emanating from the presence of a dead woman... Stephanie was typically immune to emotional pressure. Or pretended she was, anyway. She hid behind her monotone and her face that barely expressed anything until she couldn’t, and then she’d go and have a meltdown in the bathroom. But she wanted to please Mom. We all wanted to please Mom. So if Mom had told her she was rude for mentioning the death thing, Stephanie would be unable to mention it again. Because she wouldn’t want Mom to think she was rude.

This felt very much like I was in an episode of the Twilight Zone. Dead mother back to life, check. Weird inexplicable pressure not to talk about it, check. But Mom clearly remembered things that had happened shortly before her death, and showed no evidence of knowing about anything that had happened since, unless it was public knowledge. She talked about interests the girls had had three years ago, interests they’d all outgrown since. She talked about my plan to remodel my own garage – I had completely forgotten that was even a thing we’d planned at one point, because I’d lost my job shortly after Mom died and then the money wasn’t there for the remodel. She didn’t know I was working with my husband in the consulting business now, which a telepath would obviously know because it dominates my life nowadays. Obviously a Martian telepathic shapechanger would have to pretend not to know things that supposedly happened while they were dead, but if I’d forgotten about the garage, what were the odds a telepath could pull it out of my head? There had to be more accessible thoughts in there, after all.

I didn’t know what to ask Mom. How do you feel? That was always a good one, back in the day, because Mom’s chronic illnesses meant there was always something she could complain about, but she wouldn’t do it until she was asked… she’d just quietly resent the fact that no one had asked her. But did dead people still feel things? Would that intrude on the topic I wasn’t supposed to talk about? What’s going on in your life? Oh, nothing much, Lennie, I’m back from the dead, how about you?

So I talked about myself. I was learning to work leather and I’d made myself a wallet, but I left it at home, I could bring it to show her next time. I was also learning to repair dolls. The girls had all abandoned theirs and I felt bad about it, so I was cleaning them up and repairing them and putting them in dioramas. Mom was very interested in both topics, and asked if I could repair some old dolls she had up in the attic. I was pretty sure I’d already done it – if it was the dolls I was thinking of, Dad had given them to me right after Mom died, and they were the ones I’d learned on. But was it safe to talk about? Dad wasn’t saying anything; had he forgotten he gave me the dolls, which was entirely possible, or did he think it wasn’t safe to talk about either?

I’d wanted for three years to be able to tell my mom that she was wrong about all the weight loss advice she’d given me because now it had come out that scientists had never proven that fat made you fat and the low-carb diets were probably better for you than the low-fat ones, but I didn’t know if she could still eat. Also, my mom was back from the dead and I wanted to start an argument with her about a topic I’d always hated when she talked about? Didn’t I have anything better to do? That really kind of made me a shitty person, didn’t it?

When Mom had been dying, I couldn’t talk to her about the future. I didn’t know how to bring myself to talk about things she’d never see. I’d never known how much my conversations with her consisted of me talking about future plans until I couldn’t any more. Now I couldn’t talk about the future or the past, at least not the past three years, and large parts of the present had to be left out too, because I didn’t know what would remind her that she was dead and make her go back to her grave. Even though, logically, I knew that was unlikely to happen because Stephanie had done it and had just gotten a rebuke that that was rude.

At the same time… I knew I had to say something that Mom could talk about, because if I just talked about myself all night, later on she’d probably make some passive-aggressive remarks about how everything always had to be about me. In desperation, I asked her if she’d seen anything good on television lately.

“Oh, I haven’t been watching anything in a while,” Mom said. “It’s been so long since I felt well enough to go anywhere, so I’ve been going for walks, and your father and I have been taking trips to museums and historic sites. We’re going to be going up to Boston next week.”

“I have a client up there,” Dad said, “and they want me to do a training thing. And I was telling them, no, no, Boston’s too far, but I remembered how much your mom loved Boston, so I asked her if she wanted to go and she said yes, so now we’re going. We’re going to fly, though. The days I was willing to drive that kind of distance are long over.”

“You could take the Amtrak.”

Dad made a dismissive gesture. “It’s gotten so expensive. Flying’s actually cheaper.”

“When are you going?”

“Next Wednesday we’re going to fly up there,” Mom said, which said something about her opinion of the future, at least. “Your dad’s got his presentations to do on Thursday and Friday, and I’ll wander around the city, and then we’ll spend Saturday seeing the sights together.”

“There’s this fantastic restaurant I went to last time I was up there on business,” Dad said, “and I checked their web page, and they’re still open. So we’re going to go there.”

So Mom could eat. Or Dad wasn’t afraid of talking about eating with her, anyway. Maybe ruled out vampire, but Martian shapechanger was still on the table.

I didn’t literally believe my mom – or the entity that appeared to be my mom – was a telepathic shapechanger from Mars like in The Martian Chronicles. But it was obvious that something so far outside the norm that it was only imaginable by making references to fantasy and science fiction was happening.

I tried, very carefully, “How have you been feeling, Mom?”

“I’m great!” She laughed. “I haven’t felt this good in ages. Sugar’s under control, I can see pretty well, none of the usual aches and pains… I’m doing pretty good!”

Did she remember she had died of cancer? Did she even remember that she’d died?

It was 2 am before I got to go to bed.

***

6 am and I was up and out the door before there was any chance of my mother or father being awake, assuming my mom even slept anymore. But at the very least, she was in her bedroom with the door closed and no view of the driveway I’d parked my car in.

Do I sound like a terrible daughter when I tell you I’ve never visited my mom’s grave? I haven’t been back there since the funeral. I always knew my mother wasn’t really there – that if any part of her had still existed in any form, it wasn’t trapped in a coffin under six feet of dirt. It made it somewhat difficult to find the graveyard, though, because I couldn’t remember where it was, or its name, or which church it was associated with, and it wasn’t exactly like I could ask my mom. When I finally found the place– it wasn’t that hard in the end, my parents live in a small town and there aren’t many graveyards – it took me half an hour to find her grave.

It seemed undisturbed. But if Mom had been back from the dead since Monday, that would have been time to fill in a grave. I went looking for the caretaker.

They get to work early in the graveyard caretaking business, I guess; I found him pushing a lawnmower over on the other side of the graveyard.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“This is going to sound stupid,” I said. “But I got an email from a jerk I used to know in high school claiming he was going to dig up my mother’s grave, and I just wanted to make sure nobody’s touched it.”

“Nobody’s touched any of the graves, ma’am,” he assured me. “Aside from a couple of funerals we’ve had this week, no one’s done anything to disturb the ground here at all.”

“Thanks,” I said, “that’s reassuring. He was talking like he was actually going to do it, but I guess he was all talk.”

“Well, if anyone comes by and disturbs any of the graves, we’ll have them arrested,” he said.

I had my answer. My mother had not climbed out of her grave. Which seemed impossible anyway, now that I knew enough about the funeral industry to know exactly how hard it would be to smash a coffin open, let alone dig through six feet of dirt. I couldn’t rule out her turning immaterial and floating out of her grave, but my mom had seemed very material and biological when she’d hugged me. I’d always thought of ghosts as something that were almost never solid enough to interact with the world, if they even existed.

***

If I was going to get up this early, I was going to get a pancake breakfast at the diner. My parents still think sugarless cold cereal is a reasonable thing to eat for breakfast. They were always night owls; I made myself breakfast and school lunch every morning but the first day of school, every year after about third grade. I was also a night owl, once I didn’t have to get up for school anymore, but I used to make my girls a lunch every night and store it in the fridge for them. Now they’re too old and too cool for Mom lunches. They’re eating something, but it might be cafeteria food, lunch they pack for themselves, or for all I know sandwiches from 7-11 or Starbucks with their allowance.

The point is, I hardly ever get a nice breakfast, because I am hardly ever willing to wake up early enough to cook myself one, and my parents certainly weren’t going to. So I went to the diner.

Normally I don’t talk to anyone at a diner, beyond smiling at them and telling them my order in an upbeat, cheerful voice because waitresses get too much shit from too many people for me to add to it inadvertently. Also because I don’t want them to think I’m eating alone because I’m a sad, lonely bitch no one would love; I want them to know I’m doing this because I really, really enjoy not having to socialize. But today I had something I needed to know.

“I’m a writer,” I told the waitress, “and I’m doing research on ghost stories in the area. Have you heard anything, you know, Halloweeny or spooky? Ghosts appearing, dead people walking around, poltergeists, that kind of thing?”

“Can’t say I have, but I’ll ask around, see if any of the girls know any good stories,” the waitress told me.

And then she took my order back to the kitchen, and I surfed the net on my phone while I waited, and then I got my pancakes, and I ate them. I was chasing the last blueberry around on the plate when another waitress approached me. “Stacy told me you were collecting creepy stories for a book?”

“From the local area, yeah.”

“I don’t know if this is the kind of thing you’re looking for, but… my cousin says that a lady on her street, her husband died a few years ago? But she just saw the guy walking with the lady down the street, having a conversation like the guy never died.”

“Do you think you’d be able to give my email to your cousin and have her reach out to me? That sounds like exactly the kind of story I’m looking for.”

“Uh, sure.”

I gave the waitress my email address. This was probably going to come to nothing; I doubted the waitress would even remember to give it to her cousin. But it’d be really good if I could get the details from someone who knew more about it.

***

Jeff’s more of a morning person than I am. I got a response on Facebook, but I had to wait to get back to my parents’ house, where my laptop was, to read it. On mobile, Facebook will only let you read messages if you have the app, which tells Mark Zuckerberg exactly where you are and what you’re doing with your phone, all the time. I don’t have the app. Sometimes this means I can’t read messages on mobile, but I prefer that to having an evil data empire know everything about my movements.

My parents weren’t awake when I got home. Or they were still in their bedroom. They used to do that a lot. Mom’s desk was in there, and Dad had a laptop… which he usually used on Mom’s desk, since she died. I wondered where her machine was, and if she had made a thing about it once she came back.

“I’m not sure I remember what your third grade teacher’s name was… I can barely remember my own third grade teacher. Were they the same? I can’t remember. I think my own teacher’s name was… Wil-something? Wilber? Wilkins? You’d be better off… well, you’re at the house now, or are you back at your home? Kind of important to know, because I could give you some advice about who to ask, but it’d be a different thing if you were at Dad’s house.”

He meant, “You’d be better off asking Mom, but I don’t know if you know Mom is back from the dead or not.” I was pretty sure, anyway.

I responded. “I’m at Dad’s house. Wondering how I’d be able to tell the difference between someone who’s real and a Martian shapechanger. Could the name have been Wilder?”

Five minutes later I got my answer. “Mom isn’t a Martian shapechanger. It was the first thing I thought of, so I checked.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

That answer I didn’t get until half an hour later. “I… just didn’t feel right, talking about it in an impersonal medium like the internet. I know you have a cell phone and I probably even have your number somewhere, but I remember you’re not the biggest fan of actual phone calls, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

I replied with my phone number and the message “Call me.”

And then I had to sit by my phone, doing nothing important, nothing that would engage my attention in any serious way, waiting for him to call. Which took twenty minutes, despite the fact that I could see that he was online.

Finally the phone rang. “You raaaaang?” I answered in my best parody of The Addams Family.

“I’m pretty sure I must have, or you wouldn’t have known to pick up,” Jeff said. “Of course, I might have buzzed. You could have your phone on vibrate. Or maybe I sang, depending on what you have for a ringtone.”

“’You saaaaang?’ doesn’t have the same je ne sais quoi to it.”

“Wow, how long has it been since I heard someone put je ne sais quoi in a sentence? I think we’re old. I think that’s an old person expression now.”

“What’s going on with Mom?” I asked, quietly, in case anyone might be in the hallway to hear me.

Jeff sighed. “I don’t know what is, but I can tell you what isn’t,” he said. “Stephanie confirmed that she eats, sleeps and goes to the bathroom normally, and I confirmed all of that for myself. The toilet in their bedroom is still broken enough that they don’t flush it unless they have to.”

I winced. That was a level of detail I could have done without. “So, not vampire or undead. How did you solve the Martian thing?”

“On Monday, Dad woke up and she was laying next to him in bed. If the goal was to kill him, it would have made more sense to do it then, before he woke up, than to put on this whole elaborate performance.”

“You’re taking me too literally. I’m not worried about aliens trying to take our family off guard so they can kill us. There’s any number of things they could be up to, and they don’t have to be aliens. Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The Stepford Wives. My Little Pony.”

“…My Little Pony?”

“There’s creatures called Changelings that feed on love. They impersonate ponies and take the love that other ponies feel for the ones they’re impersonating, as food.”

“Kind of psychic vampires mashed up with Martian shapechangers.”

“Yeah, but without the telepathy, so they’re not as good at it as you’d think. It’s a children’s show; they have to telegraph to the kids that these aren’t the real ponies. In real life, anyone who did something like that would be more competent.”

“How much verisimilitude do we need, though? She’s got moles in the same places Mom had moles. She’s missing a toenail just like Mom. Things I didn’t consciously think about, things I might not have remembered if you asked me to describe Mom.”

“That just means that if it’s not Mom, it has the ability to rummage deeper into our memories than we’re consciously aware of. That’s why I asked you my third grade teacher’s name. I genuinely don’t remember. Mom would, I’m pretty sure. Dad wouldn’t and Stephanie and Aaron were both too young.”

“I’m not sure I remember, but when you said Wilder, that sounded like it could be right. Do you know anyone from elementary school? Some of them went to high school with us.”

“I have some Facebook friends from high school, and maybe one or two went to the same elementary we did, but I haven’t been able to locate any actual people that I remember from elementary school. They don’t have a Classmates.com thing that works for elementary—”

“It says it does.”

“It lies, there’s nowhere to enter your elementary in your profile. All it lets you put in is high school, and it’s from a drop-down, not even freeform.”

“Huh. Guess I never tried it. I’m still in touch with anyone I cared about from back then.”

“I literally don’t care about anyone from back then, but that makes it hard when you’re trying to figure out your third grade teacher’s name.”

“If she can probe our memories,” Jeff said, “then nothing you or I know, or ever knew, would be safe. You’d have to come up with something to ask her that Dad wouldn’t know, or me, or Aaron, or Steph, or yourself, but that you know Mom would know and that you know someone else who would know it too.”

“I could ask Mariana for something.” My mom’s close friend and high school classmate was one of my Facebook friends. We don’t generally communicate directly with each other, but I follow her posts.

“That’s a good idea.” I heard the sound of a whistling teapot in the background. “That’d be my hot water for my oatmeal. If you get anything from Mariana, can you tell me about it?”

“Yeah.” I’d wanted to tell him about the story I’d heard in the diner, but no one got between Jeff and his oatmeal. “I’ll talk to you later. Probably online. Voice is making me paranoid.”

“I know what you mean. Do you need me to come up this weekend? I could make a day trip tomorrow.”

“That might be a good idea. I want to talk to Aaron, do you know what schedule he’s on?”

“He works nights now, so you’ll want to get him around 2 pm or so.”

“All right. Enjoy your oatmeal.”

“I will!” he said, putting a ridiculous amount of emphasis into it as a joke.

***

Before I could finish writing a message to Mariana – before I could really start, honestly, because how could I explain why I needed what I needed without admitting Mom was back from the dead? – someone knocked on my door. It was Mom. She was wearing one of her usual kind of shapeless but colorful nightgowns, and her hair was not brushed, so it was kind of a wreck. I noticed for the first time that it was grey. Mom had always dyed her hair since she started going grey, and it had still been auburn when she’d died. I’d never seen it fully grey. “Your dad and I are going to the arboretum,” she said. “Do you want to come?”

“Since when have you been into trees, Mom?” My mother had always been fascinated by history, and to some extent natural history like dinosaurs, but I’d never seen her express an interest in nature per se.

“I never was, much,” she admitted, “but the world is so beautiful. I was always more interested in the way humans shape the world than the way it came out of the box, but things like arboretums, Japanese gardens, zoos and aquariums… they’re made of nature, but they’re made by humans, and they say something about the people who chose to make them the way they are. And you know that your dad has always enjoyed nature.” My dad was interested in science, in general, and considered the natural world part of that. He was not exactly the kind of guy who would go camping.

In the past, I would have said “no, thanks.” I was never all that interested in nature myself, certainly not trees – maybe beautiful rocks or interesting landscapes, but looking at trees wouldn’t have seemed interesting to me. I still didn’t care much about trees… but my mom was back from the dead. I’ve gone much stupider and more boring places than an arboretum with her in the past, and now… if this was really her, if she was really alive again, I was going to spend all the time with her that I reasonably could.

“Sure, I’ll go,” I said. “I’ll take my own car, though. Just give me the address.” I always took my own car if I possibly could, because I’d get carsick if I wasn’t the one driving. “Should I ask Stephanie if she wants to come?”

“Sure, you can ask. I doubt she will, though.”

Stephanie, however, surprised me. “Yeah, I’ll go with you. We’ll meet Mom and Dad there?”

“Yeah.” Dad had texted me the address, so I pulled it up in my GPS. “About half an hour from here.”

In the car, she asked me, “Have you found anything out? I know you were looking into the whole Mom thing.”

“Jeff thinks she’s really Mom. We have a plan to get Mariana to give us a question that we don’t know the answer to, but that Mom and Mariana both would, so we can confirm she really knows things and isn’t just reading our minds. And a waitress at the diner said her cousin has seen what looks like someone else coming back from the dead.”

“It’s all over the place, actually,” Stephanie said. “I’m finding reports from everywhere.”

I glanced at her. “Why wouldn’t this be making the news, then? People coming back from the dead!”

“I feel like maybe no one wants to go on the record.” Stephanie looked out the window. “Nothing on Twitter or Facebook. No pictures of dead people on Instagram. I’m seeing things on Reddit and Tumblr – places where people use a consistent pseudonym, not like 4chan, but where that pseudonym can’t be tied to their actual identity. I’ve posted about it in both places, but I can’t make myself tweet about it.”

“Any idea why not?”

“It—” She shrugged, hands exaggeratedly widespread and head canted forward slightly. “It just feels wrong,” she said. “Like… we’re getting away with something. There’s a natural law we’re breaking here. I can post as toomanymushrooms or u/catonahottinroofsundae and no one knows who I am, but if I post as Stephanie Robbins and I tell everyone that my mom Suky Robbins is back from the dead…”

“What if that brought it to the attention of, what, some kind of authorities?”

“Yeah, pretty much. And even if I was just posting under my own name… I don’t have to say Mom’s name. I don’t have to put a mention to her Facebook in a post. But everyone knows my mother’s name, or they could find out from my name if they wanted to.”

“And you think maybe there are a lot of people with these weird feelings?”

“I don’t think so, I know so. A lot of posts explicitly talk about the fact that they can’t bring themselves to say anything in public, or talk about it with their real names on it.”

“Are they all parents?”

“No. It’s all kinds of people. Best friends, siblings, spouses, children… the only pattern I see is that nobody died a long time ago. It’s all, ‘my brother who died last year’ or ‘my aunt who died two years ago’ or something. Longest I’ve seen anyone talk about was a son who died five years ago.”

A thought occurs to me. “I can add something to your pattern, though.”

“Yeah?”

“You’d expect that, even if everyone with a resurrected relative feels this sense of dread about telling anyone about it with their name attached, because they feel it will, I don’t know, maybe cause the dead person to disappear back into their grave… you’d think somebody would do it anyway because they don’t care. Someone whose alcoholic abusive father came back and they wish he’d go away again, someone’s asshole brother, someone’s former best friend who betrayed them. But so far, no one has. How many people have you seen talking about this?”

“It’s hard to say because no one’s using their real names. Someone might post from their main blog and their side blog, or maybe they have a different name on tumblr vs reddit but they posted to both. But I’ve tracked thirteen separate names, and of those, I can tell for a fact there are at least nine unique ones because they talk about different people.”

“Thirteen isn’t ‘all over the place’.”

“I didn’t mean all over the Internet, I meant people coming from all over. I’ve tracked the UK, California, North Dakota, Ontario, France, India and New Zealand. Nobody’s tagging their posts and no one is willing to contribute to a master list, so it’s hard to find anyone outside of the people I follow or the subreddits I’m in, and I don’t know where everyone comes from. But it’s geographically widespread. I suspect it may also be happening in other places where people don’t generally speak English or maybe don’t have Internet access.”

“And what’s their sentiment? Like, are people frightened? Upset? Excited? Weirded out?”

She took a moment to think about it. “They’re happy. People are happy it happened. Weirded out, yes. But happy.”

“No whacked-out conspiracy theories about how it’s the contrails raining down adenochrome or something?”

“Not from the people it’s happened to. There was one flame war I saw where a religious person was saying that the person whose sister was back from the dead had to repudiate her. She’s not really your sister, she’s a demon from Hell sent to trick you, et cetera. And the person whose sister was back turned out to be just as religious, and they threw a holy fit. Literally. A holy fit.” She giggled. “A whole lot of stuff about how the righteous were coming back and Jesus had granted some people eternal life and this was that, and how dare you call these beings demons when they’re obviously blessed by Jesus himself and you’re the kind of person who would have called for Jesus’s crucifixion if you’d been alive then, and all that kind of thing.”

“Did anyone else who’d had returned people say anything?”

“This was Tumblr. None of the people who have had returns are communicating with each other in any way I can see. I reached out to a few on Tumblr private messaging but no one has answered. The only places I’m seeing conversations about it between people with returns have been on Reddit, because it has a forum structure. Tumblr is more like a whole hanging web of disconnected strings.”

“Still, you’d think that someone would be publishing a news article about it. Even if no one is willing to go on the record with their real name…”

“Maybe it’s not enough people. Nine unique instances, maybe up to thirteen, maybe more in places I haven’t surveyed. It’s not like I have access to literally all of Tumblr, after all. But that’s all I can confirm, and what if there isn’t any more?”

“If anyone came back from the dead I would expect the news to take notice.” I turned onto the final road; the arboretum was at the end of this stretch. “I went to the graveyard today. Mom’s grave hasn’t been disturbed. I checked with the groundskeeper. So either Mom’s body floated ethereally through the grave dirt, and her coffin, or her original body is still in there and whatever she is now, it’s not the same as what she was then.”

“It’s too bad we can’t have her exhumed,” Stephanie said.

“It probably wouldn’t tell us much anyway.”

“She’s younger-looking than she was before. Not by much, and the grey hair hides it, but she’s healthier-looking and less wrinkly. And I don’t see any evidence that she still has diabetes, or that she’s taking any pills at all. I haven’t seen her take any insulin shots, or anything.”

“Huh.” She wasn’t restored to her youth, or her hair wouldn’t be grey and there would be no wrinkles at all. She wasn’t restored to what she was at the moment of death, obviously. She wasn’t restored to what she’d have been at the moment of death without the cancer that killed her, if she didn’t have diabetes anymore. I felt like there had to be a pattern here I wasn’t seeing. I really wanted to talk to some of these other people having this experience.

I pulled in to the arboretum’s parking lot. Mom and Dad weren’t there yet; Dad doesn’t drive like an old man, but he doesn’t drive as fast as he used to, either. “Do they do this kind of thing a lot? Arboretums, parks, et cetera?”

“They don’t usually invite me, and I wouldn’t usually come if they did, so I don’t know. They do leave the house a lot.”

Dad’s car pulled in, and he and Mom got out. For the first time I could remember, Mom was actually moving a bit faster than him. Both Mom and Dad were the kind of people who walked quickly everywhere they went, but for a long time, Mom was slowed down by her various illnesses. Dad was still healthy for his age, but he’d slowed down a good bit since Mom’s death – grief was hard on his health, it seemed – and now Mom seemed healthier than he was.

“Did you know there are people who come here from all over just to see our leaves in the autumn?” Mom said.

I did know that; it was typically a factor in making it hard for me to come visit during the autumn. “I think it’s the mountainsides. There’s leaves turning colors all over the country, but not on mountainsides.”

“In California they don’t even consider these mountains,” Mom said. “They call them hills when they come visit.”

“No respect for the elderly,” Dad said.

“Yeah, these young mountains think they’re all that, but wait 100,000 years and see how tall they are then,” Stephanie said.

We strolled around, looking at the trees, reading what it said on the plaques in front of them. American Elm. Yellow Birch. Eastern White Pine. I’d seen trees just like these my whole life, and a good number of them, I’d never known the names.

“You never think about how beautiful the world is,” Mom said. “We’re all rushing through it, trying to accomplish the next thing. Or entertain ourselves. Read a book, watch TV. So few of us really want to interact with nature.”

“Careful, mom, your hippie roots are showing,” I said, teasing.

“I think if my generation had remembered what we were back when we were the hippies, the world would be better off.”

“We didn’t forget, Suky. The hippies were always big news, but you know as well as I do how many people our age just wanted to go punch a clock, buy a house, vote for Ronald Fucking Reagan… We thought we were the generation that would change the world, but it wasn’t our generation, it was us. People like us, who wanted to see a better world and weren’t content to just live like the sheep our parents were… but there’s people like that in every generation. And they’re always outnumbered by the assholes.”

“Actually, they’ve done a study,” Stephanie said. “The reason generations get more conservative as they get older is that at every point, the poor are more likely to die than the rich, and the rich are more conservative than the poor. So by the time you get to middle age, a lot of the people looking for social justice and diversity are dead. And there’s a lot more dead by the time they’re elderly.”

“I don’t buy it,” my dad said. “There’s entirely too many stupid poor people in this country who are brainwashed into supporting causes that help out the rich people and screw themselves over. They’re not living longer than anyone else in this country. The math doesn’t work.”

“Let’s not talk about politics,” Mom said. “I think we all know there’s something more important we ought to be discussing.”

“Mom?” Stephanie said, and looked at her, which is not a thing Stephanie does very often.

“Suky?” Dad said.

I didn’t say anything. I watched as Mom looked up at a tree and said, “It’s time we dealt with the elephant in the room, don’t you think?”

“Are you going to tell us about—” I couldn’t say anything more. I couldn’t bring myself to make the words.

“About the fact that I was dead, and now I’m not?” She looked at all of us. “I think we should talk about it, yes.”

It felt like there were eyes, watching us. I wanted to yell to my mother, to tell her not to talk about it, that someone might hear… but who? And why would it matter?

“Is that something you’re okay with, Suky?” Dad asked.

“I’m fine, but I’m getting the impression the rest of you aren’t,” she said. “Why haven’t any of you brought it up, except Stephanie, the once?”

“Well, you told me it was rude,” Stephanie said.

Mom sighed. “I guess I did. I’m sorry. This isn’t really easy for me either.”

She sat down on a bench, and Dad sat with her. Stephanie and I sat on a short stone wall around a tree. “I suppose I should start by saying, I don’t really know much more than you do. I don’t have any memories of being dead. I woke up in bed, next to your dad, on Monday morning, and for a while I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there… I assumed I went to bed the previous night, but I couldn’t remember what had happened the night before. I couldn’t pin down anything I remembered as to exactly when it happened, not in the recent past. And when your father woke up, the shock on his face and the fact that he kept asking me if I was really here made me think, wait, the last thing I remember was that I was in a hospital dying of cancer, so why am I here now?”

“So you don’t remember any kind of afterlife?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I believe I had some sort of existence, but I don’t remember anything about it. When I wake up, I have flashes, feelings that I dreamed something about it, but I can’t hold it in my head long enough to write it down or even talk about it. It just… disappears, leaving behind only the memory that something was there a few minutes ago.”

“You know how unlikely the idea that an afterlife exists is, scientifically, though. Right?” Dad said. “Consciousness is an emergent property of a trillion neurons working together. Imagining that there could be some sort of construct that exists outside the brain and body is like imagining that a video game character could be waltzing around in front of us.”

“And yet I’m here,” Mom said.

“Time travel or a Star Trek transporter with some modifications would make more sense than something supernatural, like an afterlife,” Dad said stubbornly.

“It doesn’t matter,” Stephanie said. “If Mom doesn’t remember…”

“Have you had a medical exam?” I asked.

Mom laughed. “I don’t have health insurance anymore. I’m dead, remember? I can’t even begin to figure out how we’re going to address getting me a legal identity again, and to be honest… I can’t know I’ll be around long enough for it to matter.”

“None of us know that,” I said, “about ourselves or anyone else.”

“True, and it’s going to be hard to travel if I don’t have a legal identity. So I suppose I’ll have to address it eventually, if I last that long.”

“Thank God your state ID hasn’t actually expired yet, or there’d be no way we could fly to Boston. The passport’s expired,” Dad said. Mom had been legally blind when she died, so she’d had a state ID rather than a driver’s license.

“Is there any reason you might not? Aside from the things that could kill anyone?” I asked.

Dad said, “Your mother and I discussed… when she first appeared, I found it nearly impossible to talk about the fact that she’d been dead. When she broached the topic, I could talk about it to her, but I couldn’t tell you kids.” He shrugged. “My working theory is that there’s some kind of alien experiment going on or that time travel is somehow involved, but the fact that none of you kids were able to tell each other about it until you knew the other one knew suggests to me that someone with the ability to directly affect human emotions or thought is, for some reason, making it hard to talk about this. Maybe that means it’s a short-lived experiment.”

“Maybe I escaped from hell and no one wants to talk about it for fear the devil will take me back,” Mom said, but she was laughing. Mom had never believed in hell. Dad was an atheist; Mom definitely had strong spiritual beliefs, but they were kind of a package of woo that included reincarnation and ghosts, even though she’d been raised Catholic.

“There are others like you,” Stephanie said. “None of them have talked about it themselves, but family members or friends have talked about it online, under pseudonyms. I haven’t found any evidence that anyone has mentioned anything under their real names.”

“A lot?” Mom was surprised.

“So far I count between nine and thirteen unique individuals, plus Eleanor heard a rumor that someone who might live in town might have come back. We don’t know any details, though.”

“We need to find them,” Mom said. “I need to find them. I have a second chance at life, and I’m not ashamed of it. I won’t be silenced about the fact that I exist.”

“It might not be the best idea, Suky,” Dad said. “There are a lot more crazies out there than there were when you died—”

“—there were plenty of crazies then, Dee—”

“—right, and even then it wouldn’t have been a good idea. There might be some religious nut job who thinks that if you were dead you should stay that way. Or someone else thinks that you know how you came back, and wants to force you to tell them.”

“Those are valid points,” Mom said, nodding. “And to all of those people who might want to harm me because they think I shouldn’t be alive or they think I know how I came back, I say a hearty ‘fuck you.’ I won’t be silent because there are crazy people in the world. I’m not afraid of death, not anymore.”

“You’re going to risk Eleanor’s kids?” Dad asked sharply.

“I agree with Mom,” I said, standing up. “Nobody should have to keep quiet about the fact that they exist. But I have to tell Will.”

Stephanie made a face. My family doesn’t like my husband. They have justifications, but in the past few years, since Mom died, Will’s gone to therapy and has done a lot of work on himself. Mom was the only one in the family ever willing to forgive anything, though, so I’ve never tried to get them to change their minds.

Mom said, “Well, is he still a total asshole?”

“He’s… been trying not to be. He’s in therapy, and we’re doing couples counseling, and he’s working through a lot of baggage from his upbringing.”

“Why not tell him to bring the kids up and join you here, then. Coming back to life, might as well start a clean slate and see where things go from there. And you’re right, he needs to be involved in the discussion. Your girls, too. They all are old enough to understand what’s going on here, and what could happen.”

“You know I will never stand in the way of anything you want,” Dad said, which is the kind of thing Dad says rather than “I love you”. Things like, “If they ever fail to respect you, I will smite them” – talking about us and our treatment of Mom – or “You have always been my worthy opponent.” Yes. Sometimes my father talks like a comic book character.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” Stephanie said, “but I know you taught me to be who I am to the world and fuck anyone who gives me shit about it, so… same principle. I don’t think you could be you and lie about who you are.”

“And we need to involve Jeff and Aaron,” Mom said. “I’ll call them and get them to come here.”

“We turned off your cell phone ages ago,” Dad objected.

“Dee, we still have a land line. I know we do because I hear it ring, and sometimes you even answer it.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s right, we do.” Dad shook his head. “This world where everyone carries around their phone in their pocket all the time… it’s strange how you get so used to a technological or societal change that you forget that you did it a different way for 67 years.”

Nothing ever stopped my mother when she wanted something strongly enough, if she believed it was right. I hadn’t even thought of the considerations my father brought up before he talked about them, but I’ve never believed it’s okay to hide in conformity and live in fear. I didn’t think Will had ever believed in doing that, either, and my daughters had grown up going to political protests.

“We need to find out more about these other people,” I said to Stephanie on the way home. “See if we can contact them directly, find out if any of the actual returned people are planning on going public like Mom. We could coordinate if they are. Strength in numbers.”

“The religious right are going to crap their pants,” Stephanie said, laughing. “A Deist who believes in reincarnation, is married to an atheist, and has a gay son, came back to life. Jesus Christ hasn’t got a monopoly anymore.”

“That is probably going to be the most fun part of this going public thing,” I said.

***

So now I don’t know what will happen. My husband’s driving up from home with our girls, my oldest younger brother’s on a train, and Mom’s been looking up contact information for journalist friends she had once, checking which ones are still alive, using Facebook – we never deactivated her account – and my dad’s LinkedIn. Stephanie’s found two other people who have family members who came back from the dead, and one of them’s been willing to talk to her in private messaging on Tumblr.

I still have a hard time telling anyone who doesn’t already know, but it turns out, I can write about it without feeling the pressure, the fear. Don’t know if I can post it, yet. I guess we’ll see. I’m hoping that if I can get more information from more people who’ve been through something similar, maybe we’ll find a pattern, a point of commonality… maybe even an explanation for why we all feel this pressure not to talk about it.

Tomorrow we’re all going to talk about whether we’re going to do this or not, but I know my family. What my mom wants, she gets, if it’s possible and if it’s ethical. My husband and my kids are going to be in favor of her going public, and my brothers won’t stand in her way any more than my dad would. So we’re going to do this. The thing we’re really going to talk about is how to keep ourselves safe when we do.

Everything in the world is going to change. I just don’t know exactly how yet.

***

Obligatory notes because I’m so fucking late with this piece:

I have fucked up royally. I went into this without an outline and about 6,000 words in I realized I had attempted to consume a ball of energy larger than my head. This is going to end up being novel length, most likely. I struggled really hard to find a place I could reasonably end it as a short story, and yeah, it is absolutely not an ending. No followup on the Martian shapechanger thing, new idea is brought in and then treated like it’s the climax, protagonist is almost entirely reactive and passive. As a short story, it’s shit.

Unfortunately I found this out after I was already late. Not going to bore everyone with why this was a week late except that it’s allergy season and I’ve been exhausted lately. So there was no time to try to write something else. I hope you found it entertaining, if somewhat frustrating; it’s shit as a short story because it’s plainly a piece of a novel. Which I’m not going to write real soon because I have like 3 novels ahead of this one in the queue, but if I live long enough it will get done.

It’s kinda cute that story #30 falls on the 30th now because I’m late and story #31 is the last of my Spooky 5 Halloween-appropriate stories. But not cute enough to justify how late this is.

BTW, while this is not as autobiographical as “Radio” from Inktober, it is heavily drawn from real life. I altered some things because this is fiction, but the mother and the father in this story are pretty close to real life. Except that my mother hasn’t come back.

#52 project #writeober 2020 #alara's october 2020 prompt fics #spooky5 #late!

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stxphxn-strange · 4 years

Text

nalgenes and french toast

a/n: Tony angst for my college au ft. sweet ThorBruce/Odinson family moments just bc, and Stephen doing the most bc he loves tony more than anything

Anthony was honestly amazed at how well he could hold back his anguish. He woke up from one of the worst dreams of his life, just barely suppressing a cry that should have woken up Stephen beside him and Wong across the room. To his credit, Wong was a reasonably heavy sleeper and was less likely to be disturbed/woken up. On the other hand Stephen had a sixth sense for when Anthony was upset and could tell, even in his sleep, when he had nightmares. Anthony found it both incredible and pathetic that he managed to wake up and slip out of the room without waking up his boyfriend.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want Stephen to comfort him, he did. More than almost anything, Anthony wanted to be lulled by sweet nothings and comforting words until he fell asleep again, but that could come after he dealt with his emotional outburst. He just woke up from a dream where his beloved mother did a 180, caring for/about him as much (or as little) as Howard Stark did, and the thought of that ever happening was devastating. Maria was always warm and loving even when Anthony was at his worst, and she was his biggest supporter next to Stephen, so of course he was scared to relive that dream or lose her love in the waking world.

Anthony knew he could call his mother and talk to her, and she’d comfort him as soon as she realized he was upset. But what if she didn’t?What if someday she did stop loving him? What if the few people in his life who genuinely cared just decided that they were done dealing with him, and his sensitivity wasn’t a strength, but a reason to leave him? He wouldn’t even be worth it to associate with, not even because of his name and subsequent influence. Anthony didn’t think he was good for much besides being available for people to leech off of anyway, he was just a worthless, crying mess in the living room. He was just a coward.

He buried his head and curled up into a little ball, trying not to wake up Stephen or any of the others. What would they think if they saw him like this? Stephen had seen Anthony cry before, and he wasn’t likely to judge. Anthony never judged his boyfriend when he cried, but he didn’t want to be seen in this state. They could all change their minds about him if they saw how upset he was from a stupid nightmare.

There was too much at stake. Crying alone was safer.

++++

It always annoyed Stephen when he woke up in the middle of the night and realized he was thirsty. If he woke up at a certain time of night, it was damn near impossible to go back to sleep. Luckily it was only 2:16. He’d probably be able to fall back asleep before 3:00, even after going to the kitchen and filling up his Nalgene.

He slid out of bed, putting his socks back on when he realized that Anthony wasn’t beside him. Stephen wasn’t too worried, figuring he was just in the bathroom or enjoying a 2am snack. The living room lights were on, further leading Stephen to believe that Anthony was secretly eating one of his snacks (which he never minded, Anthony often forgot to eat and Stephen was used to his boyfriend taking food from him). But he didn’t find anything wholesome like Anthony eating Pretzel Goldfish, he instead stumbled into something heart-wrenching. Anthony was crying on the loveseat, wrapped in a blanket and still wearing the shirt he’d taken from Stephen that night.

Honestly, it went beyond just silent crying. Anthony’s entire body shook with powerful sobs, and even from the kitchen Stephen could see the effort it was taking him not to scream. What was wrong? Why would Anthony suddenly cry alone when he usually confided in him?

Stephen cleared his throat. “Hey, Ant?”

Anthony started, realizing that he wasn’t alone. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” Stephen replied, setting his water bottle down and sitting beside his boyfriend. “I didn’t mean to scare you. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, I...” Anthony shook his head, burying his face in his hands as he fought back another sob.

“Do you want a hug?” Stephen asked.

Anthony nodded desperately. “Please, I can’t do this on my own anymore, I can’t—”

Stephen pulled Anthony close, wrapping the blanket around the both of them and softly stroking his boyfriend’s back. “You don’t have to deal with anything alone, Anthony. I promise.”

Anthony nodded again, pressing himself closer to Stephen. “I do, or else everyone will leave me. Everyone will change their minds about wanting me around, and why wouldn’t you?”

“Hey, look at me,” Stephen said, gently cupping Anthony’s face and gazing into his teary brown eyes. “I won’t ever change my mind about you, and you’ll always have me.”

“I’m not good enough,” Anthony muttered. “For you to stay, I mean. And hasn’t it been insufferable, knowing me for all this time?”

“What? No, of course not love,” Stephen replied. “Never. There’s legitimately no one I would have rather had by my side growing up and going through life with. Everyday I get closer to you and I want that forever. There won’t ever be a day where I don’t want you in my life, as my significant other and as my best friend. You’re my everything, Anthony Stark, everything.”

Anthony did sob then, clutching fistfuls of Stephen’s shirt and holding him tightly as his emotions took the wheel.

“It’s okay,” Stephen soothed, hugging him even tighter. “I’ve got you, I’m never letting go. I’ll always be here, I swear.”

Anthony didn’t respond, he couldn’t. He was crying too hard to speak, worked up from Stephen’s words. They cut down his fears like an axe to a tree, but did he deserve such unconditional love? Why did Stephen still bother with him?

Stephen kissed his head softly, humming a relaxing tune to try and calm him down. It didn’t take long, it was still quite late and Anthony’s exhaustion was starting to take over.

He yawned. “Sorry for keeping you up.”

“Don’t apologize. I’d never ignore you crying, no matter how tired I was, and I wouldn’t go to sleep without knowing you’re okay,” Stephen replied. “What happened?”

“Hm?” Anthony was a little zoned out, listening to Stephen’s heartbeat in his ear.

“Why you come out here anyway?” Stephen asked gently, kissing him again.

“I woke up from a bad nightmare and felt really shaken. I knew I was upset the minute I woke up, and I didn’t want to wake you up over something that stupid,” Anthony confessed. “But I don’t have it in me to talk about it right now, Steph.”

“You don’t have to,” Stephen said. “Do you think you’d be able to go back to sleep?”

Anthony shrugged. “Maybe. I’m tired.”

“Hold on a minute. I have an idea,” Stephen said. He stood up, booping his boyfriend’s nose. “Wait here.”

Anthony rested his head on his arms while he waited, his eyelids growing heavier by the second. He was fighting to keep them open the entire time Stephen was gone (and he wasn’t even gone for that long), his eyes almost closed when Stephen returned. He didn’t pay much attention to what Stephen was doing, almost asleep when Stephen turned the lights off.

“Okay, c’mere,” Stephen said, inviting Anthony to cuddle again.

The engineering student moved clumsily into his boyfriend’s waiting arms, faintly registering something soft underneath them where the floor should have been. He hummed in question, snuggling closer to Stephen.

“You know how we sometimes slept on the cushions when I visited family in Italy with you?” Stephen asked. “A few years ago, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Anthony murmured, wrapping his arms around Stephen’s neck and resting his head on his shoulder. “We fell asleep on the deck the first night, watching the stars. I think Natasha has a photo either for our wedding or for blackmail purposes. Maybe both.”

Stephen smiled at the memory and at the thought of someday marrying him. “I wanted to recreate those nights, hence the couch cushions and all the blankets, to try and make you smile.”

Anthony hugged him tighter. “I love it. And I love you.”

“I love you so, so much,” Stephen replied, beginning to stroke Anthony’s back again. “And you know you can talk to me about anything. I’ll never judge you, I’m here for you no matter what.”

“I know, sometimes it just still doesn’t click that people actually want me in their lives,” Anthony said.

Stephen’s heart broke at the admission. “Believe me when I say this: I’ll always want you.”

Anthony didn’t respond verbally, hugging Stephen closer and finally allowing himself to relax. “I’m really tired,” he mumbled later, shifting slightly into another comfortable sleeping/cuddling position.

“Get some sleep,” Stephen encouraged him, kissing his hair.

“You’ll stay with me?” Anthony asked.

Stephen was overcome with love for Anthony, but also by a feral desire to protect him from anyone who ever tried to hurt him again. “Of course I will, and I don’t just mean tonight. I love you.”

Anthony yawned. “Love you most.”

Stephen hushed him softly, rolling his eyes at how argumentative Anthony could be even when he was this exhausted. “Goodnight, dumbass.”

++++

Stephen was the first to wake up, rudely awakened by the sound of the door slamming.

“Was anyone going to tell me that Thor is in love with me?” Bruce asked.

“How could you not know?” Wong asked.

“To be fair, the first time I told Anthony I loved him he thought I meant it platonically,” Stephen replied, looking fondly at his still-sleeping boyfriend. “I did have to clarify for him. But Bruce, it’s clear as day. What prescription are your glasses?”

Bruce flipped Stephen off from across the room.

“How is it that our two (2) smartest friends are also complete idiots?” Hela asked. “No offense Bruce, and I’d again like to welcome you to the family.”

“He basically already lives with us,” Loki muttered in mock complaint. He really didn’t have anything against Bruce, but he did have an image to maintain.

Wong cleared his throat. “Are you calling me a complete idiot? Because I’m clearly smarter than the entire group combined.”

“You’re also SHOUTING,” Anthony replied, now awake and glaring sleepily.

“Sorry Ant, but this isn’t the first time I’ve accidentally woken you up,” Wong said. “It probably won’t be the last.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” Anthony conceded. He looked over at Stephen. “Kiss?”

Stephen nodded with a smile. He was expecting a sweet, sort of lazy kiss and was not expecting Anthony to grab his shirt and crush their lips together for a mini makeout session. Nevertheless, Stephen couldn’t complain. “Jesus.”

“Good morning,” Anthony said impishly.

“You’re damn right it is,” Stephen replied, laying down again and pillowing his head on Anthony’s shoulder.

“Get a room,” Loki yelled, his mouth full of French toast.

tags: @ah3m @stark-strange-love @grumb-lin @maya-custodios-dionach @chocopiggy @majesticnerdynerd @spooky-n-spunky @ironstrange-chaos @kiwidino

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years

Text

Please Don’t Judge Me Part 5 || Auston Matthews

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: It took me forever, but I finally finished this series. I’ve battled with how to bring things to a good conclusion and I think I finally figured out how to tie things up. For everyone that has waited so very very patiently for this ending, I truly hope you enjoy it. Also I get so much pleasure in using another lyric from the same song as part 1 to inspire the last line of the series.

Warnings: premature delivery

Word Count: 1,284

~~~~~

After his talk with the guys, Auston had called his parents and told them that he was going to be a dad. Their disappointment with him was almost as crushing as being eliminated from the Stanley Cup playoffs. He knew that he had fucked up, was still fucking up, but he didn’t know what to do or how to fix things. There had been so many times that he drafted a text to see if you wanted to get ice cream or to ask if there was anything you needed but he was always too chicken to press send.

He had no idea how to be a dad. He certainly didn’t have his shit together the way that you seemed to.

But when you’d reached out with appointment information he found himself driving to the doctor’s office without a second thought. Maybe if he just showed up things would start to fall into place.

Observing you, he noticed that your bump was even bigger than before. You seemed exhausted and kept rubbing at your lower back. But then there was a thumping sound and a grainy image filled the screen in front of him. Your doctor pointed out the different body parts of the baby and it was only then that it fully clicked that he was going to have a kid. Still, he was so afraid of fucking things up that he didn’t say anything. Instead, he helped you up, walked with you out of the office, and took the pictures you offered him without another word.

The fact that he’d ordered you a pregnancy pillow to be delivered to your apartment was honestly the only thing he could think of to do.

After that, he knew he should reach out to you, but once again there was just something holding him back. So he went home to Arizona for a month or so before returning to Toronto to do some training. He’d just gotten back from the gym when his phone rang, Mitch’s number lighting up the screen. He hadn’t really talked to Mitch recently, his teammate was still pissed at him for the way he was handling things. Mitch calling was kind of surprising but he answered anyway.

“Yeah, dude, what’s up?” He replied, moving around his kitchen to get a bottle of Gatorade.

“You better come to the hospital,” Mitch whispered, his voice frantic.

“Why what’s up?” Auston questioned, not fully picking up on his teammate’s tone.

“Y/N is in labor. Doctors’ can’t stop it.” Mitch explained. Hearing that you were in labor caused Auston’s heart to race. “Dude...it’s way too early,” Mitch added. “Get your ass down here now.”

___

Fifteen minutes later, Auston found himself walking through the winding hospital halls trying to figure out where Mitch had directed him to come. As he turned a corner he spotted his teammate, who was clearly stressed to the max.

“About fucking time,” Mitch grumbled when he spotted him.

“What the hell happened?” Auston found himself asking, his pulse still racing.

“She’s been having back pain off and on for weeks,” Mitch explained. “Which you’d fucking know if you had manned up like you were supposed to.” He mumbled under his breath. “Today it got really bad while she was at lunch with me and Steph so we brought her down here. Apparently, the pain is contractions and she’s not responding to the medicine doctor’s gave her to stop them. She’s only 27 weeks and the baby is coming. She’s fucking terrified Auston, Steph can barely get her to calm down and none of this is good for her or the baby.”

A strangled scream sounded from a room just a few feet away and Mitch let out a heavy sigh before motioning to the door.

“Don’t fuck things up even more. Go be with her.” Mitch pushed. Walking through the hospital door, Auston’s eyes went wide. You were laying on your side in bed, tears streaming down your face as you gripped Steph’s hand. Your face was pale, wires seemed to be everywhere, and waves of fear immediately crashed over him. Hearing the door, Steph’s head turned in his direction and she motioned for him to approach the bed.

“Y/N...sweetheart. Auston is here.” She murmured softly. She urged him to take her place right beside you and murmured that she would be back in just a few minutes.

Almost instantly, another contraction surged through your body causing you to scream, and as soon as it passed, it was replaced by another round of sobs.

“Fuck.” Auston mumbled. He didn’t know what to do. But seeing you in pain, seeing you cry finally triggered something in him. Moving around the bed, Auston maneuvered around the wires before slipping in behind you, his arms wrapping firmly around your body, his hand lacing in yours. There was something about his touch that was grounding, the way his fingers traced over your skin as you cried.

When another contraction hit, he kissed your head, his lips lingering against your temple until it passed.

“I’m so so sorry.” He breathed. “I’m such a fuck up. I’ve been so scared of fucking things up that I’ve done just that over and over again.” The tone of voice with which he spoke was one you’d never heard before and you knew he was being genuine. “You’re so fucking incredible. You’re so much stronger than I could ever be. I swear to you, whatever you need, I’m here.”

“I’m so scared.” You whispered, your voice thick from all of the crying.

“I know. I’m scared too.” Auston quickly replied. “But they’re going to be okay. You’re both going to be okay.” He said the words with such conviction that for a moment you believed it to be true because he said it would be. Then another contraction hit, more painful than the last. This time you felt the overwhelming need to push. Crying out that it was too early, that you weren’t ready, that the baby wasn’t ready, you missed Steph appearing at the door and then quickly rushing out to get your doctors and nurses. When the group of them returned, the nurses urged you to let them examine you again, before your doctor informed you that it was time to push. Again you protested, but as your nurses moved your legs into a better position, instructing Auston to hold your leg up another contraction hit and you screamed again.

“Just listen to the doctors.” Auston urged you, his voice scarily steady. “If they tell you to push, you need to push sweetheart. I’m right here. It’s going to be okay. You and our baby are going to be okay.” This time when a contraction hit and the nurses told you to push, you complied, bearing down into it. The sound of Auston counting softly filled your ears as you pushed over and over until finally, the feeling of pressure gave way.

For far too long the room was eerily quiet, but then a quiet cry filled the room. Suddenly a nurse rushed forward to you, placing a tiny infant onto your chest.

“We need to get her to the NICU but you can see her for a moment first.” Seeing his baby....his daughter draped against your chest brought tears to Auston’s eyes and he kissed your temple once more.

“You did so good.” He praised. “She’s beautiful.”

Though there was a long, long road ahead of you still, this was the first time you’d truly had hope. Hope in Auston as a father, hope for the two of you.

Sometimes things have to get ugly before they can become beautiful.

#auston matthews #auston matthews imagine #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #tleafs #002

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hidinggal · 4 years

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Bruce's Bat Baby

This is a story I wrote about this post I saw this is my take on the Bruce part.

Bruce and I had met shortly after he had adopted Dick Grayson and quickly fell in love with him and everything about the Wayne heir. We got engaged around the time he adopted Cassandra Cain by this time Jason Todd had lived and died and lived again and the most recent Robin was Tim Drake. I went out most nights I also preferred to stay in and work the coms with Barbara Gordon. Then came Stephanie Brown she was a surprise to they the least but she wasn't a shock like Damian was to the Bat family. Bruce had a biological son. Sure we weren't married but we already had all these kids, it hadn't occurred to me that he might want kids with me. Two years later we got married. We were at a calm and then the conversation of us having kids came back up two months after we got back from out honey moon.

I was sitting on the bed getting ready to crawl under the covers when Bruce came in and looked me in the eyes, “What about another kid?”

“Who’d did you find this time?” I asked wondering if he had found another kid on the side of the street, “Someone else try to steal the tires off the bat mobile.” I crawled across the bed, shoving my feet under the blankets and then the rest of my body. Bruce laid down beside me on top of the blankets, I cocked my head, “What?”

He smiled at me, kissed me on the head and then turned off the lights and the conversation wasn't brought up again.

But two weeks later we had a gala event all the kids went a few of the titans came too, me and Bruce spent most of the night helping Lois and Clark on an article. That night Bruce and I had one too many drinks, we woke up that morning tangled in blankets with Bruce's alarm going off.

He covered me up and kissed me on the head before he left for work, I had the day off. Dick came over from an off shift and after I got showered and changed he got into bed with me and we watched movies while Cassie, Steph, Damian , and Tim were all in school Barbra had work as a librarian. Luke and Duke also had work. So while Alfred cleaned the house Dick and I watched old movies and ate popcorn, Ace came to join us.

Dick fell asleep with his head on my shoulder and I think I fell asleep too because when I woke up to Jason who spent the day doing whatever taking the photo of the two of us, he saw I was awake and without having to say anything he got into bed laying down next to me and grabbing the remote and choosing the next movie. When I woke up again, Dick was gone and so was Jason in there place was Cassie and Tim who were crossed legged at the end of the bed Damian was curled up asleep, all three of them in their school uniforms.

Eventually we got up and moved to the dining room where I made the four of us lunch Alfred wasn't too happy but he cleaned up.

A few days had passed and I was at work at Wayne Enterprises sitting in my office when suddenly a wave of nausea rushed over me. I raced to my private bathroom off from my office and threw up. I sat down on the floor with my head in my hands as another wave hit me.

I didn't tell anyone about that. The sickness began to happen in the morning and Bruce caught on. For the first three or four days I had managed to get out of bed into the bathroom throw up and shower and change, but today Bruce followed me to the bathroom and held my hair back without a word. His large and calloused hands massaged my back as I leaned forward and heaved. When I was done I leaned into his embrace, he had a wet washcloth and wiped my face with it, folding it over he put in on my head as I caught my breath. “How long has this been going on?” Bruce left the washcloth on my head, i leaned my head back and stared at the ceiling, Bruce intertwined his fingers around me.

“A few days.” I went to lean forward and stand up but him hands caught me and with a wet slap the washcloth hit the floor. “Let me up.” it was a quiet whisper those last three words, “Its just the flu.”

“The flu?” He asked as I leaned forward away from his becoming embrace. Bruce placed one hand on my waist keeping me down and one on my forehead, I brought my hands up to his and kept the coolness of his skin on my head. “You're burning up.” He began to make slow movements to stand, “Lets get you into bed.” with one arm on my back and one under my legs he picked me up and carried me to the bed. “ill call you off work and ill tell Alfred to make you breakfast in bed.”

“Go to your meeting” He kissed me on the cheek,

“Ill have Dick check up on you when he gets back.” Bruce leaves for work knowing that after his shift today he wont be going on patrol, he will be crawling into bed with me.

A few minutes later, Alfred walks into the room, I'm sitting up ready for a breakfast tray, and he sets it down, overtop my legs the first thing i do is unroll my napkin and a pregnancy test falls into my hands, I look up at Alfred with my mouth open in shock, ”Master Bruce told me your symptoms, it could just be the flu but it could be a child.” I look away from him and look down at the light blue and purple stick, “Now close your jaw you'll catch a fly, Mistress Anne.”

I utter a quick thanks before he leaves the room and closes the door, I stare at the stick i left on the mattress next to me, outside the door I hear Alfred tell the kids I'm sick and not to bother me before school. I can hear Jason doing the crossword on the bench in the hall outside of my room, my eyes never stray from the stick until I move the tray and head into the bathroom. I pee on the stick and sit on the floor with a timer on my phone set for two minutes.

Me and Bruce always had a family when we started dating he had Dick and I was here when he got everyone else, his own children, Gordon's daughter, i was here when the accidents happened, Babs lost her ability to walk and when Jason died. I was here for them, so maybe if that stick says what i think it says they will all be there for me, I've been apart of this family for so long that sometimes it feels like because they all have the hero thing and yea I do it to but they do it more often and they all have that bonding of shared trauma and because I was raised in a middle class family, I will never have what Bruce and the kids have. My phone begins to buzz without looking I click the phone off and stand up. I look at the little plus sign on the stick. I get in the show and change into new pajamas and by the time I'm coming back into my room to hid the stick in my bedside table, the breakfast tray is gone.

After tucking the stick away on my bedside table I walk out of my room to the kitchen where Dick and Jason are arguing, they both stop when they see me, “Don't stop on my account.”

I open a cabinet but due to the fact that I'm normally waring heels when i'm out of my room and not dark pink bunny slippers I couldn't reach the crackers, Dick saw and without hesitation he grabbed it for me. He then put a hand on my head, “Fevers gone, how ya feeling?”

“Thank you,” I pull the box of crackers out of his hand and head to another set of cabinets to grab the peanut butter, “I'm feeling better.” Trying to contain the smile on my face as I pulled the butter knife out of a drawer. I sat down at the table and the two of them sat with me, “What were you two fighting about?”

The two of them sit at the counter with me and begin to rant about what happened on patrol last night, we laugh together and the moment Alfred sees me he lets me finish eating before he ushers me back to bed, both Jason and Dick wish me good luck as Alfred tucks me in, the two of them go back out on patrol.

I sit in bed with Ace until Bruce comes home, His shoulders are tense so when he sits on the edge of the bed I crawl over to him and begin giving him a shoulder rub. “How are you feeling, Dick said the fevers gone.”

I smile, “Better.” I begin to crawl to my bedside table and I pull the purple and white stick with the faded plus sign out I set it down and go back to rubbing his shoulders. “Turns out it wasn't the flu.”

“Hmm” Bruce just leans into my massage, “What was it? A cold?”

“No” I pull back and grab the stick i then wrap my arms around him putting the plus in his line of sight. “I think we should go to the doctor before we start telling people,” Bruce grabs the stick out of my hands and stands up before turning to look at me, “I know its a lot, I think Alf-” Bruce has the biggest smile on his face, he puts his hands on waist and spins me around the room.

He sets me on the ground, one of my slippers flew off, he kisses me hard, keeping that cheeky grin of his, “Ill call the doctor, we’ll drop the kids off at school, Jason and Dick will patrol again, we will go out to lunch than if its true.” He kisses me again, “We will have a family dinner in a few days.” I'm not sure how long we stood their and hugged and cried I also don't remember going to sleep or driving the kids to school because next thing I know me and Bruce are sitting in the waiting room of the doctors office.

I don't hear the nurse call the name or the doctor introduce herself I vaguely hear her explain what's she's gonna do I'm too busy thinking about when the baby was conceived, I think it was the night of the gala and so does Bruce that was a little under a month ago a little more than twenty two days, we should be able to hear the baby's heartbeat. I put on the hospital gown and Bruce folds my clothes eventually the doctor walks back in.

She places cold gel on my stomach and Bruce's hand is in mine. I turn my head to look at the screen and there it is a small looking peanut shape, “There it is.” The doctor points at the grey and white on the staticky screen and suddenly this is real, this is I sat on the bathroom floor when I knew the truth, I think I have known since that night that there was a baby inside me and I've always been a parent but now Ill actually be a mom, I didn't know I was crying until Bruce wiped away my tears and then we heard it a small and tiny noise that whispered of love and screamed joy in both our ears a little heartbeat.

The doctor spoke to us some more, I got prenatal vitamins and other meds she thought I would need. She told Bruce about everything I would go through and then some, I got changed and we got lunch then headed home. Bruce showed the photos to Alfred before he even had his coat off. Alfred congratulated us, he was going to invited everyone to dinner next week. The two of them left me alone to go plan.

The next week goes by fast the only question I get are why I haven't been out patrolling for the moment I've been shrugging them off but I think Damian is getting suspicious although he hasn't said anything. Bruce has been getting up an hour early so that when I get morning sickness There's towels and bottled water set up in the bathroom for me, He’s also been cutting back on his patrolling shifts and has been telling the kids that's me and him are working on a project for work. When in reality we are working on plans for the nursery, we have kids but we've never had a baby before this was new territory, given we had eight months we had no idea what to do and we still are clueless.

Me and Bruce wore our dinner clothes to work, business causal we were in meetings all day, and eventually time was for dinner, we had made it so that only immediate members of the so called “Bat Clan” were allowed to dinner. Alfred cooked a chicken dinner with biscuits, mashed potatoes and gravy there was corn and peas as well. Dick was in his police uniform and Jason wore his normal clothes but with a tie on top of everything. Tim, Damian, Steph and Cassie were all wearing school uniforms, Duke and Luke also were wearing business casual and Babs was wearing a blouse and skirt.

They brought up old conversations and family photos to Steph's famous food Instagram page, and to the last meme Tim tagged Bruce in. Dick brings up a case he’s currently working on down at the GCPD and Jason says something inappropriate that makes everyone laugh. Cassie doesn't say much but she nods and a smile appears on her face. As the conversation dies down Babs asks the question, “Is there a reason were having family dinner tonight, I don't mind its just-”

“I'm pregnant.” I say the whole table is quiet, both me and Bruce are trying to take in everyone's expressions.

“And during the remaining eight months i will be hanging up the cowl, the justice league doesn't know yet why I'm giving up being batman.”

“This is real?” Jason says eyes wide.

Cassie lets out a laugh and signs congratulations.

“Baby names!” Stephanie pulls a pen out of her pocket and begins writing on her cloth napkin, I let out a laugh as Tim leans over to help her.

“You need boy names too!” Cassie leans over to read the names as Tim yells at Steph.

“Congrats you too.” Dick says nodding his head he then glances at Steph's napkin that is upside down to him, “Does that say Dino Nugget?”

Jason leans over and reads the list, “I don't think Batman is going ot name his child Baby Bat.”

The rest of the evening was spent it a cheerful mood and ended with Bruce showing everyone the ultrasound pictures.

The night was a success now came the hard part, preparation for the baby and the next nine months.

PART 2??? how was this

#bat family headcannons #batfam headcannon #batman #batfam headcannons #bruce wayne #pregancy #dick grayson #jason todd #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #love intrests #damian wayne

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sunflowerstache · 5 years

Text

Falling

What do you do when the person you pictured your entire life with, suddenly seems to have fallen out of love with you?

Word Count: 2.4k A/N: This is a piece for the wonderfully amazing beautiful @hsogolden Fine Line Fic Challenge! Thank you so much for putting this together Bri, it’s been so fun to read different interpretations of the songs! This one shot takes place in my Another World universe (you can find the fit here!) And this will be part 1/2 So I promise there will be a continuation of this hahaha but yeah I hope you enjoy and I can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

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When you’re in the thick of it, surrounded by people chanting your name and screaming back the emotions you’d spent hours - months even - trying to perfectly articulate, making a name for yourself seems like the most important part of life. When you’re standing on a stage, in front of thousands of people who spend their hard earned money just to hear your deepest thoughts and watch you pretend to know how to dance, it awakens something inside you, makes you feel like you were born to entertain. That all the sleepless nights crying over failed attempts and constant rejections were finally worth it once you got to watch your art touch the lives of others. You hear children all over the world talk about it; aspiring to be famous when they grew up. Especially in today’s world where at the click of a button, the lives of any celebrity was at your fingertips.

But when you finally decide to take that plunge and reach for the stars, no one warns you quiet enough of the darkness fame holds. Because sure, people all over the world hold your art close to their hearts and you get awards and your fans love every part of you, but they also criticize, put down, and invade your entire life. No longer are you able to be a person who interests and hobbies; instead, you must fit into whatever size box the world has built for you. You can’t say certain things, wear certain clothes, or be seen with certain people. Because that’s how you end up on the cover of People Magazine with the whole world questioning your personal life.

The photo angirly stared up at you from the coffee table, nearly burning a whole in the side of your face while you avidly tried to avoid looking at it any longer. His familiar glazed over eyes, eyes that you had been on the receiving end of dozens of times, had taken up tracing the patterns of someone else’s cheeks, his fingers learning the curves of her back while they climbed into the dark car. Long gone were the perfectly manicured curls you had given him in the shared bathroom of your home, and instead in their place, the locks you had grown to love over the years, were flowing every which way, from her hands no doubt. If you were in a cartoon, the miniscule moment in time, captured and frozen, would have broken the short table as soon as you placed it down, the weight behind the click of a camera.

“Seems like not even their History together could keep ex 1D members turned lovers Harry Styles and Y/N L/N together. Harry was spotted outside ‘San Vicente Bungalows’ with a mystery woman… who wasn’t his longtime girlfriend and mother of their child, Isabella age 3. Trouble in paradise?”

These were the moments you wished someone had warned you about all those years ago when deciding this was the career path you wanted. You wished someone had sat you down and prepared you for the heartbreak of seeing your personal life being exploited for a quick buck. Sure, you had seen it happen to countless celebrities, but when it’s not happening to you, it doesn’t seem like a real thing that hurts the parties involved. Because if the rumors were true, then they ruin a relationship, and if they aren’t true, then those involved have to overcome the public scrutinizing their decision to stay together.

And Harry had never given you a reason to think this would happen. From the moment you met him, it wasn’t hard to see just how wonderful of a man he was. The morals he lives by and the levels of kindness he tries to spread to everyone he comes in contact with. He was more than anything you ever thought you’d end up with, and the best father to your daughter that even your wildest dreams couldn’t conjure up. But sometimes, things happen, and you can’t control them.

You thought you had prepared enough, but the second the front door opened, the feeling in your fingertips began to fade away. Every word you had strung together in your mind to help you calmly talk your boyfriend, had fizzled into nothing, and you were left with nothing but panic. This had never happened to the two of you before, and figuring out how to navigate this conversation without coming off as accusatory was nearing impossible.

“Hey baby! Sorry, I know I know I said I’d be back like an hour ago, but God, you wouldn’t believe the traffic right now! I stopped by that bakery to make it up to you though, you know, the one with the deluxe muffin things you both love?”

Not once, in all four years of your relationship, had the sound of Harry’s voice made a shiver run up your back in anything less than a pleasurable way. But sitting on the sofa while listening to him move around your kitchen, it only made you want to be sick - and you didn’t know if it was because you truly believed what was in front of you, or because you were so nervous to ask about it.

“Where’s B anyway? Usually runs right up when I open the door.” he laughed.

“With Steph.”

“Oh shit, yeah today was their Universal day, right? Surprised we haven’t gotten any videos yet.”

“Hmm.”

You knew it was only a matter of time before he started questioning your responses. Typically when he got home, both you and Bella wouldn’t leave him alone, hounding him with kisses and remarks about your day to try and make him jealous of what he missed out on. So, you sitting and not giving him much of anything was bound to raise some suspicions.

“You alright, love? Quiet today.”

“Yeah.”

“You sure? Just sound like you’re a little down. We can stay in tonight, just cuddle and watch-”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know why his words got cut off. The coffee table was in his direct line of view as he made his way into the living room and you’d left the magazine right on top of everything, in perfect eyesight of anyone entering the room. He’d come from a day at the studio with Kid, clad in one of his usual recording getups; loose blue jeans and a colorful sweater. His hair was just getting to a point that you dearly missed, the curls just beginning to cover the tips of his ears and a light stubble growing on the very end of his chin. A true look for a recording rock and roll artist. And you wanted to smile at how cozy he looked, to curl up next to him and love on him while you had the house to yourselves, but when you looked at him, you could only picture her.

“Y/N….”

“Did you sleep with her?”

You never meant for the conversation to start like that. You wanted to ease into it and remind him that you love and trust him, but the little part inside of you, the part of the girl who had been so hurt in past relationships and worried everything perfect you currently had would soon come crumbling down, thought otherwise. The words left your lips so quickly you didn’t even have time to second guess them. But it was almost like he wasn’t surprised by your questions at all. Instead, his shoulders sagged and his attention left you and focused on the floor while he walked to sit in front of you.

But he didn’t respond.

He didn’t even look up from his lap. He just fiddled with his fingers, intertwined and resting on his knees, knees that were brushing up against your own due to the close proximity of your bodies. The lack of eye contact was enough to lead you in the direction you never thought you’d have to think about.

“Harry. Did you sleep with her?” long gone was your quiet question, instead the loud sob of a plea left your lips.

“I - I don’t know.”

Never in a million years did you ever expect to have heard those words fall from Harry’s mouth. He was someone you trusted with every bone in your body and was the only person you could ever imagine a true future with. The person you looked forward to telling all about your day, who you would rather soak in a bath with than go to red carpets or galas. He was your person, yet here he was, demolishing every ounce of confidence you had in your relationship.

“...you don’t….know?”

“I - no.” he sighed, finally looking up at your eyes. “I was out with the guys and we had a lot to drink, we thought we finished the album, and were celebrating. I just - I didn’t stop when I knew I should have and - and I don’t remember the rest of the night.”

“When was this?”

“Beginning of the summer. After we got here from London.”

Rage replaced any former sadness when you heard his words. “That was three weeks ago Harry!”

“I know.” he was acting like a sad puppy with his tail between his legs. If it were any other circumstance, you’d be trying to comfort him and make the painful sadness in his voice go away, but you could only focus on how angry you were at him.

“Three weeks! What, were you just not going to ever tell me? Just pretend it didn’t happen and let me go on thinking everything was fucking fine and dandy?” he’d never seen you this angry, and being on the receiving end of it was sure to be disturbing, but how else were you supposed to act after hearing the love of you life potentially slept with someone else?

“No! No, obviously I wasn’t going to keep it from you but -”

“Obviously nothing, Harry! I had to find out that you slept with someone on a bloody magazine cover!”

“I didn’t sleep with her!”

“You don’t know if you slept with her! There’s a huge difference, Harry!”

How someone could even begin to rationalize what he potentially did was beyond you. You couldn’t fathom spending so long with someone and throwing it all away because of one night out with your friends. How you could disregard not only someone you claimed to love, but also the precious little girl that was created out of the love you shared.

“Five years, Harry. We’ve been together for five years, did that mean nothing to you? Did all the time we spent together mean nothing? The things we’ve seen together and secrets we shar-” you hadn’t cried so hard in a long time, but there was no use trying to bottle it all in. He deserved to see what his choice had done to you, and by the way his head was being cradled in his hands, you knew it was hitting him.

“Maybe that’s just it! We’ve been together since we were eighteen, Y/N! Maybe I’m fucking bored!”

When you woke up that morning, the thought of having to deal with the tabloids wasn’t something you even remotely thought would happen, but you could get through it, you always did. For years, they tore you and the band down, picked apart every decision you ever made and spread blatant lies, but you always got through it. You could get through it because you knew everything was a lie and you had the people you cared about most on your side.

This time, you didn’t even have that.

How were you supposed to combat the media and their hateful words, when the person in question was basically admitting they had fallen out of love with you. That every minute of the last five years meant nothing because they were now bored. Over all the intimate moments you shared and words you can’t take back. That pretty much signified the end, and there was nothing you could do about it.

The shock of what he said must have come crashing down on him, because instantly, he was trying to move closer to you, to grab your hands and make you look at his pleading eyes.

“No! No no no no, listen to me, Y/N, that wasn’t -”

But you couldn’t listen anymore. You’d had your heartbroken more times in the last twenty minutes than you had in years, and you couldn’t handle anymore. It was a feeling you had promised yourself a long time ago that you wouldn’t put yourself through again, and even if the person before you was the man you had given your entire heart and soul to, you wouldn’t wait around for him to feel the same thing.

So, you pushed his hands away.

You pushed away all of his own emotions, all of his pleading for you to come back and listen to him, and you walked away. If being in the public eye for so long had taught it anything, it was that you deserved more than what was given to you at times. Just because everyone around the world seemed to think they had a say in your life choices, doesn’t mean you should disregard what you know is best for yourself. And standing here, listening to the man you loved more than anything, say that he may have fallen out of love with you, wasn’t the best for you.

“Baby please, I’m sorry! You know I didn’t mean that.” the tears on his face were apparent even without turning around, the thickness of his voice doing enough explanation on its own.

“Do I, Harry?” you whispered, turning around so bleary eyes could meet. “Because I thought I knew everything about you, but I never thought we’d end up here.”

Without saying a word, you wiped your cheeks and made the decision to put yourself first. If you stayed any longer, more words that couldn’t be taken back would be said, only burying you deeper and deeper in a whole neither of you wanted to be a part of. You’d never been one for walking away when things got tough, because letting things fester always made it worse. However, this was something you needed time away from.

And there was no one to blame but Harry and his wandering hands

#finelineficchallenge #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader

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