#but then i stayed awake for 72 hours that one time and heard people whispering my name and thought my food was made of maggots & ants

[kraviolis]

anyways i got sidetracked from what i was originally gonna post. now that im off my medication for the foreseeable future (with minor exceptions like whenever my mom shares their adderall with me) ive become more acutely aware than ever before exactly how genetically predisposed to addiction and substance abuse i really am

[dorotharry]

tiny dancer ; chapter two

Pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 3

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: torture, nightmares, angst, let me know if there's anything else :) 

Summary: After being drafted for the war in 1942, Bucky goes to the ballet a week before having to leave with his best friend Steve. There he becomes infatuated you with the prima ballerina of the show, and he just has to meet you before his last week in Brooklyn is up. He hopes one day you would meet again; little does it know it will be 72 years later.

A/N: honestly I have no clue where I’m going but I’m hoping you’re all still following. There’s still soooo much to go into readers past and yep, it’s gonna take a while but I hope you enjoy this. Please feel free to give feedback, like and repost it would mean a lot! :)

MY MASTERLIST

*gif not mine

1943

Your head felt groggy, as you woke up. Not enough energy from an ounce of your body to open your eyes for the time being. The more your body woke up from the darkness of slumber the more the pounding of aches and pains became less subtle and started to fill each and every muscle. You weren’t sure where you were or what had happened, but you suddenly became aware that your surroundings weren’t familiar. The air was too cool and there was an eeriness from lack of noise.

Finally, you were able to pry your eyes open. The colours swirled around you into one, until they became to create recognisable shapes. Although this wasn’t somewhere you recognised, just as your mind had thought even before getting to look around.

You were laid down on a metal ‘bed’ if you could even call it a bed. The coolness of the metal began to get to you a shiver running down your spine and you attempted to get up. Only to be restricted. It was now when you noticed you had straps holding your ankles, down, but not only this; there was a limpness to your form. In fact, you didn’t have any real connection to your muscles. As if a switch had been turned on in your head you realised, this wasn’t a bed. It was a table.

Suddenly your anxiety rose. In an ill attempt to do something you turned you head groggily to the left, only to be met with machines, and hospital devices. You took in a sharp breath. This definitely wasn’t a hospital so why the machines? Rolling your head to the right with just as much difficultly as last time you were met with darkness. The faint sound of feet shuffling in the distance, and the whirring of more machines.

Almost as if whoever it was had realised you were awake, a bright white light turned on above you causing you to groan from the sudden contrast to the previous darkness. The footsteps became louder, as whoever it was approached you from their hiding spot.

“Ah you’re awake,” the voice started, “you know you gave our men quite a difficult time back there. Are you going to behave this time?”

Your voice barely was able to respond, only a hushed whisper came out, “Who are you? Where am I?” This worked to rejog your memory as you saw flashes of men running after you, as you had leapt from this same table. You had gotten pretty far and fought back fairly well but this place… whatever it was; was a maze. Realising now that amongst being kidnapped and knocked unconscious. Your first attempt to escape was probably why you were in pain all over. A vision of a few men jumping on top of you and beating you unconscious. Again. That must have been why you were tied down this time.

“I think you know the answer to that.” the small man with glasses responded appearing finally out of the darkness. “…We’re HYDRA, and you y/n...” He spoke reaching under your chin in a condescending manner. “…Were firstly going to be a pawn against your stupid Captain America. But you’ve shown promise, something our other soldiers don’t have.  Neither your American ones. My guess is it comes from your ballet training.” He shrugged as he moved away from you, turning and looking for something. Suddenly his hand was on a switch and machines began to rumble.

“Please,” you responded choking on your own words, “please just kill me!” You knew something was coming, otherwise why would be so aloof.

He chuckled at your words as he stood behind you. “The red skull doesn’t want me to do that, he needs more soldiers, and that’s exactly what we’re going to make you.” And with that you saw a metal machine slowly being dropped down over your left eye, and below your right jaw, causing your panic to rise. As quick as the unbearable pain started, so did darkness.

Present day ; 2017

You woke up screaming as the pain of what had happened almost a century ago shot through your entire body. You fumbled out of bed in a sweat like you did most nights. Heading towards your small kitchen in your small apartment. It was filled with greys, no life within in, you felt there was no need, why celebrate a life with no life?

Your life had changed in so many ways after 1943. You were one of HYDRA’S many toys, the many men that surrounded you called you tiny dancer, but not in a kind way, in a misogynistic arrogant way. Most people at that time though saw you as a weapon, something to be feared of, and they should have.

After you had stumbled upon the Winter Soldier on a mission in 2014 working as a freelance agent having cut your ties with HYDRA mere months before hand, it was only a few months when so had Captain America. From what you had heard amongst assassins under the radar living in Madripoor like you, it hadn’t gone well for HYDRA and now the Winter Soldier was nowhere to be found, invoking fear within many who had made themselves enemies to him. But you were sure his best friend would be looking for him. Whilst you had decided to go against helping him, Steve was not that kind of person.

Time had not been kind to you, you were no longer the frail girl who could fall in love in a week. In fact, you weren’t sure if you actually could feel love anymore. HYDRA had to make sure there was no collateral. Still once you saw him that night you wondered how amongst your many years with HYDRA, how you had never run into Bucky: The Winter Soldier. You had heard of the winter soldier, but you never knew it was Bucky behind the ghost of a person. Probably on purpose, HYDRA had been in your mind. Tthere was no doubt they knew who he was to you back then.

Not only did it invoke these thoughts, but it had led to your retirement. Well not your retirement, you were still about 25 years old on the outside, and though nor Steve or Bucky knew you were alive you knew how it felt to be in their position.

Hiding out in your small apartment in Madripoor was where you had spent most of your life since 2014, staying on the down low in case HYDRA somehow re-emerged, looking for revenge on a project they had wasted so much time on. You.  

You weren’t sure why they were so surprised people like you hated them with so much anger. They had taken your life, Bucky’s life and made you weapons against your will. You didn’t hold their values, it was forced upon you.

You shook yourself from your thoughts again. You only got sentimental after nightmares, and the nightmares had been pretty continuous after seeing Bucky those few years ago, so really you were sentimental most mornings. You think it had something to do with seeing him and how it brought back memories you didn’t even know you had.

Reaching for a bottle of water, you took a sip looking over at the clock that read 3am. You groaned, knowing that you’d probably never have a good night’s sleep again. Terrible payback for a terrible past. No sleep for the wicked.

You shuffled yourself back to your room getting into bed and turning on the tv as a way to mindlessly distract yourself until you actually had to do stuff.

A few hours past until it was 7am, and you decided you could at least go for a shower before your day at work. Working at a bar that opened at 9am wasn’t exactly high class living; especially when you had to deal with drunks so early in the day, so it definitely required more motivation than most jobs. You couldn’t do what you were originally good at, dance. And you’d decided you probably shouldn’t be doing what you were trained for. Killing people.

Turning on the shower to allow it to warm up, you rid yourself of your clothes, suddenly aware of how stiff your muscles were after another bad dream. Stepping in you let the water try and wash it away, and though it did help you knew it would only reappear tonight in another form of a nightmare. You closed your eyes sighing in content, and it did last for a brief moment until you heard banging on your front door.

At first you tried to ignore it, but it got louder and more aggravated and suddenly your heart had fell to your stomach, resorting to thinking of the worst that could be behind that door. Getting out you threw some clothes back on. You reached under your bed grabbing your shot gun, holding it close to yourself as you slowly walked towards the door that had started banging again. Times like this you wished you had a peep hole to look through.

You turned on your best poker face and opened the door abruptly to be more hostile. Only you were met with someone you didn’t know, though for some reason you felt you recognised. On the other side of the door stood a woman all in black, her hair was in a blonde bob and for a brief second you thought you saw a reaction flash across her face like she knew you too.

“Is this y/n?” she spoke firmly and with poise.

You raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Is it?” she returned her poker face staying on her face.

“Yes.” You huffed, the half-amused face falling from your face, returning back to the glare you constantly wore. “Who are you?”

She raised her hand for you to shake her face accompanying it with a small smile, which you hesitantly took.

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve been looking for you under Fury’s instruction for a while, my name’s Natasha.”

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be tagged)

@maybe-a-marvel​ @thatredlipped-classic​ @flightsandfantasy​ @7minutes-tomidnight​ @rebelemilu​ 

[male-reader-requests]

Light Night Love

Requested by: Me

Pairing: Todoroki Shoto x M!Reader

Word Count: 1785 words

Warnings: It's soft, implies some sexual stuff but it's never stated. There's basically no dialogue so sorry, and I haven't slept in like 48 hours so sorry if it's bad. Also grown up characters!

-

Shoto sighed as he turned over in bed, looking at the bright digital numbers next to him. It was bordering on 3 in the morning, this was supposed to be his day off, but he couldn't sleep which meant no sleeping in.

He knew why of course. He knew why he was tossing and turning in bed, why he had gotten up more times than he was proud to admit to use the bathroom before getting back in bed with a lightly depressed sigh. 

Turning over again he looked at the light trickling in from his partly open door, a vain attempt to draw his husband into laying down for a while. (M/N) had been working himself to the bone lately, and Shoto understood why, truly he did, but he missed him. 

(M/N) worked as a first response coordinator for a few different agencies but he was also Shoto's manager and secretary. Unfortunately, this meant that they'd been hit with a lot of ridicule when it came to light that they'd been since their first year in high school and married for 5 of the years out. People didn't think they'd be able to stay professional but was a bit impossible not to be when they only saw each other at home.

And now the two of them were home, were going to be for the next 72 hours or so, and (M/N) was still working.

With a sigh that rivaled his old homeroom teacher the half and half male forced himself out of bed to pull on a pair of sweat pants before wandering out to look in the kitchen. (M/N) was a man of habit, doing the same thing pretty much every day, which meant that he was either already in the kitchen or would be soon to get a cup of coffee.

The first time Shoto had spent a prolonged period of time with (M/N) he'd gotten concerned over the amount of caffeine he'd put in his system, but it was to be expected with a quirk like his.

(M/N)'s quirk was generally called "Sleepless". He didn't sleep, he didn't need it, in fact, he couldn't sleep. He could fall unconscious, he could pass out, he could faint, but he couldn't sleep. The issue about this though was that while he didn't need to sleep he still needed rest, needed to stay calm for a period of time so his muscled could relax and his mind could settle. He hadn't done that in a few days. 

True to habits though when Shoto found his way to the kitchen (M/N) was already there. He looked like hell to be kind about it, and the sight made him sad. (M/N) was dressed in a long sleeve shirt that was probably Shoto's, a pair of sleep shorts that had probably been marketed to women more than men, and mismatched socks. His skin was paler than normal, unhealthy and his eyes looked sunken in, the large bags under them not helping and his hair was a greasy, tangled mess pushed back by a pair of bulky headphones.

He seemed happy though, Shoto noted. He was swaying, dancing with slight jerky movements that screamed of exhaustion to whatever was blaring through his headphones. This meant that he was done, or at least almost done, but since he was pouring coffee into a cup Shoto would guess it would be a few more hours at least.

Leaning against the wall behind him Shoto watched as the smaller male moved around the kitchen, pulling creamer out of the fridge along with a bag of grapes. He ate a few while he stirred in sugar and creamer before putting all of it away. He then grabbed a plum, ate that, then another, and Shoto realized he was getting to the end of his rope.

The longer (M/N) went without giving his body rest the more stuff he needed to keep functioning. The longer he stayed up the more water he had to drink, the more food he needed to eat, the more caffeine he needed to keep his mind in the game. With the way he was puttering around the kitchen Shoto knew he'd been working for more than 72 hours straight then, so he'd started long before he'd even gotten home from work.

A light huff made it from the taller male before he made his way actually into the kitchen. He got close to (M/N), close enough that normally he would have noticed, but he hadn't so when he went to step back he ran into Shoto, tearing a less than dignified yelp from his throat.

Immediately Shoto wrapped his arms around (M/N), one hand gripping the opposite shoulder while the other sunk under his shirt, rubbing at the smaller male's stomach. No matter how much he drank (M/N)'s body didn't like caffeine, it generally gave him a stomach ache, so with how the shorter male practically slumped in his hold, he decided to call it a day.

With gentle fingers, Shoto took the coffee cup and set it on the kitchen island, burying his face is messy hair as he held smaller hands in his own. (M/N) made a light sound of displeasure when the coffee was taken away but Shoto knew it would be fine. He wasn't worried about it being on the counter for long, considering (M/N) would drink day-old coffee without a care in the world when he was busy.

He pulled (M/N) phone out of his pocket, pausing the music he was listening to before setting it next to the coffee and next came the headphones. Large (E/C) eyes blinked up at him, squinting in confusion and Shoto melted on the spot. A light smile found its way to his face as he took (S/K) cheeks into his hands, placing chaste kisses along (M/N)'s hairline, over his eyebrows and eyes, over his nose and cheekbones, and his chin. His face was heating up under his hands, embarrassment and sleep deprivation making him pliable enough that Shoto could pick him up without much complaint.

(M/N) had his legs wrapped loosely around Shoto's waist, hands under his thighs to keep him from falling while his own were digging into the half and half males back in embarrassment. Shoto, feeling pinpricks in his skin finally realized that he was dumb and had forgotten to put a shirt on, which was probably why (M/N) was so embarrassed.

Despite that they'd been together for years now, married for part of it for Christ's sake, (M/N) was always too easy to embarrassed. If anything Shoto would chalk it up to the fact that the (H/C) haired male didn't leave the house very much so he got overwhelmed easily, but that was alright. To him as long as (M/N) was happy he was fine with it.

When they'd gotten back to the bedroom Shoto dropped (M/N) on the bed without much thought before moving to shuck off his sweats again. This is how nights normally went, (M/N) would either already be in bed or Shoto would have to track him down, the smaller putting pajamas on before getting in bed and waiting. Shoto would strip down to just his underwear, he was in excellent control over his quirk but sometimes he still overheated, set an alarm if they needed it before just... laying on top of (M/N), pulling the covers over both of them.

The two of them had found out early that in a relationship where only one of them needed to sleep there was going to be some odd things. Shoto, despite the nightmares of his early childhood, tended to sleep as much as possible, and (M/N) didn't need sleep at all. This had lead to the discovery that if they were to sleep together they needed to figure something out for (M/N) or else he'd get out of bed, and Shoto, asleep or awake, didn't like that at all.

So they'd found out that if Shoto laid on (M/N), like on top of him as in all his weight pushing the other male into the mattress, he'd stay and be calm. This was the closes (M/N) would ever get to actual sleep, it was relaxation and just pure affection thrown into a human weighted blanket.

Shoto had his hands under (M/N) back, rubbing his fingers into his greasy hair without a care in the world. Very early into their relationship Shoto had gotten over the greasy hair thing. Yeah, it was kinda gross, but he didn't mind, it made (M/N) calm down so it was worth the gross residue.

They laid like this for who knows how long, Shoto altering between rubbing at (M/N) scalp and lightly scratching it with blunt nails. His arms were starting to fall asleep though, the entirety of both his and (M/N)'s weight starting to cut off his circulation. He wouldn't move though, he'd been through worse. He was willing to sacrifice a bit of his comfort for (M/N)'s happiness.

After a while though (M/N)'s hand found their way to Shoto's hair, tangling into the two-toned locks, and Shoto let out a breath he'd basically been holding the entire time.

It took (M/N) a long time to calm down, his brain didn't shut off so it was hard for him to relax, but the second those fingers found his hair he knew he'd done his job right. His lips found their way to (S/C) skin on (M/N)'s neck, soft and gentle and he knew it wouldn't lead anywhere, (M/N)'s body was too tired to do anything let alone have sex.

So Shoto laid there, his lips brushing against skin as he whispered into the night.

"I love you," (M/N) said, the first thing Shoto had heard him say probably 2 days. (M/N) was pressing kisses to his shoulder, sleepy and slow despite that their owner wouldn't be able to fall asleep.

"I love you too", Shoto whispered, as he was right next to (M/N)'s ear, and he finally let himself start to drift off, his dreams a black void except for the warmth he felt below him.

[fireteam-dauntless]

A Tale of Two Guardians XXV

Chapter 25 : Reevaluation  Part 1 of the Destined series  masterlist

word count : 2.0K tag list : @mail-me-a-snail @basically-nacl @shins-wife @speed-boop​

I woke in my apartment.  I felt better; more relaxed, more awake.  I was expected to appear before the Vanguard this morning at eight o’clock.  I glanced at my clock, it was right before 6.  Sunrise would be coming soon, so I rolled out of bed and got into the shower.  The hot water felt glorious on my skin and the tension in my body was slowly releasing.  I wasn’t looking forward to seeing the Vanguard today.  I’m sure Zavala was going to be furious, and he would probably be pushing for me to be suspended, or even put on lockdown, until I could correct my behavior.  Maybe even Ikora would agree with him, I’ve been way out of line.  I was so personally invested in this mission that my judgement was clouded.  The only one who might oppose would be Cayde, since I’ve been on the team with Skinner and Maverick.  The only reason Ikora might oppose is because I’m one of the few Stormcallers left.

I stepped out of the shower and dried off my body, then wrapped myself in a bathrobe.  I dried my hair with a towel as I walked downstairs.  I rounded the corner into the kitchen, and turned on a pot of coffee.

“Oh, you’re awake.”  I whipped around at the sound of the voice and thrust my hands forward, a Thunderstrike erupted out of my palms and flashed across the room.  A small yelp of pain followed, as well as a dense thud.  “Agh!  What was that for?!”

My eyes widened when I realized it was Maverick.  He was clutching onto his shoulder as his Ghost appeared.  I looked at Dawn as she appeared beside me.  “Why didn’t you tell me he was here!”  I hissed at her, then went over to Maverick and helped him stand up.  “Mav, I’m so sorry.  I didn’t know you were here.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,”  he said as his Ghost started healing him.  “I’m just glad you’re awake.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.  Did you stay here the whole time?  How long have I been out?”

“It’s been about two days since I brought you home.  I stayed in case Zavala tried to send any of his Bounty Hunters in here.  He did once, but they didn’t even get a foot in the door.  I didn’t let them.”

“I—thank you, mon cherie, for staying here.  Do you need anything?”  I asked as I stood and looked around the living room.  The files were piled neatly on the table, my mug that I shattered had been cleaned up and thrown away.  Anything that I had knocked over in my fit of rage was picked up or tossed if it was broken.  I walked over to the burned painting and gently ran my fingers over the scorched edges.  I couldn’t believe I had destroyed it, and I felt tears burning in my eyes.  “I wish I could change things…” I whispered quietly.

“I know,” he said.  “But you were justified.  I guess I can understand that… that you hated me in the moment.”

“But still… this feels so wrong.  I’ve never destroyed any of my pieces like this.”  I walked away from it and into the kitchen, Maverick right behind me.  I pulled down a new mug and poured myself a cup of coffee.  After taking a couple sips, I sighed.  “Maverick… there’s so much I didn’t know about you.  Why, why did you feel like you had to hide from me?”

There was a long pause when I turned to him.  He was looking at the ground, like he was ashamed.  “Angel… You have to understand, there’s a lot about me that I didn’t want you to know.  When people know who I am, when they know me only for what I’ve done and accomplished, they change.  I… I didn’t want you to change.  To be honest, I fell in love with the blissfully unaware Warlock that I met at the entrance to the Vault.  I just wanted to feel like a normal Guardian again.”  

I felt my cheeks flush and I looked down at the floor.  I felt guilty for looking in the file now.  “I should have just asked you…” I murmured softly.  

He laughed softly.  “In your defense, you did.”  When I didn’t respond, Maverick smoothed a hand over my hair and gently lifted my chin.  “Genesis, this isn’t your fault.  I should have told you sooner, I know, but I didn’t want you to leave our team if you knew.”

“I understand, Mav,” I said quietly.  “But… I need to get ready.  The Vanguard is expecting me within the hour.”  I watched the expression on his face shift, almost like he was worried or scared.  “Hey….” I smiled gently and placed my hand on his arm.  “I’m not going to let them love me away.  Everything’s going to be fine.”

I placed my mug down and went upstairs to get suited up.  I slipped on my Nerigal Savant III set that I had gotten from Ikora, and went back downstairs.  “Maverick, go get Skinner and just wait for me.  I’ll be back soon.”  As we walked out of my apartment, Maverick caught my hand and stopped me before I could get away.

“Angel…”

“Mon cherie,” I said softly.  “I promise you, everything is going to be fine, okay?” 

He paused a moment before he sighed and nodded. “Okay.”

I smiled and kissed him softly.  His hand squeezed mine tightly.  When we parted, I gave him a reassuring smile, and went on my way towards the Tower.

“You know you can’t actually keep that promise, right?”  My Ghost said once we were out of earshot.  I nodded in acknowledgement as I carried my helmet in my left hand, and ran my fingers through my hair. But I didn’t want to believe in the possibility of getting locked up again.  I had to perish the thought.

————— 

“Genesis Page, do you understand the gravity of your actions?”  Zavala’s voice was hard and stern.  

I stood before the Vanguard, my helmet placed on the table in front of me.  I avoided eye contact with the Vanguard Commander.  I already explained to him why I disappeared, why I snuck into the Archives, and why I decided to come back.  “Commander, I already explained to you everything.  I know I acted rashly and completely on impulse and my emotions.  And I know that after our unauthorized mission to Phobos, I asked you to give me a chance to prove myself.  I know where I stand, and I know my position isn’t good.  But Commander, please, you must understand—”  I looked up and met his harsh gaze, and he interrupted me before I could continue to defend myself.

“You should be put under lockdown,” Zavala warned, his voice low and cautionary. “Guardian, you are out of control.”

“Genesis is right, Zavala,”  Ikora interrupted.  “She knows she was wrong to act as she did, which not many will admit.  I believe that she should go back into the field after a few days, perhaps.  There is still much she doesn’t know about Maverick and Conor’s mission to kill Crota.”

“Genesis, you left the Tower with nothing but your helmet and a hand cannon,”  Cayde-6 said.  He was staring at me with a mix of admiration and maybe worry.  “You could very well have died.  But you survived on your own on Venus.  And yeah, she screwed up,” he turned to Zavala, “but she’s capable enough to continue.  She should go back into the field, her fireteam needs her to complete this mission.”

“And now that she knows the truth of Crota’s death,” Eris said from the side of the room,  “she is better equipped to carry out this mission to end the Taken King.”

“Enough!”  Zavala shouted and slammed a fist on the table.  I winced and looked down again.  “Genesis, you must be put under lockdown.  We let you go once, but we can’t make the same mistake again.”  

“Zavala, please, if you would just listen—!”

He held up a hand to silence me, then typed in a code on the table.  Two of the Bounty Hunters that I passed on my way inside walked in behind me.  

No, I thought to myself.  Not today.  

Arc energy surged through my core, straight through my arms, legs, and mind.  I cast my Stormtrance and looked over at the Bounty Hunters, who backed off, but still kept their weapons trained on me.  I turned back towards the Vanguard.  They all had backed away from the table, but Ikora was smiling proudly and Cayde was grinning, like he was antsy to see what was happening next.  Zavala was the only one who looked angry that I cast my super inside of the Tower.  Before he could react or say a thing, I blinked directly in front of him, my eyes white with the Arc energy that was flowing through my body.

“Go ahead, Commander,” I taunted.  “Lock me up.  Try.  But I am no use to the Vanguard or to my team if I am on lock down.”

I heard the door burst open behind me, both Skinner and Maverick had rushed inside, ready to defend me.  I turned to look at them and they both stopped in place.  I had this under control.  Skinner nodded and placed a hand on Mav’s shoulder, but they both were grinning.  I turned back to Zavala once the Arc Light around me faded.  He simply stared at me in disbelief.  But I didn’t touch him.  His bounty hunters couldn’t do anything, since I didn’t attack anyone.  After a moment of tense silence, Zavala sighed.

“Your temper needs to be brought under control, Guardian.”

“I am in complete control of my emotions and my Light, Commander.”

He walked away from me and over to Ikora, and they spoke quietly for a moment.  I glanced at my Fireteam with a faint smile on my lips.  I was glad they had my back, even if I didn’t need it.

“Yes… Very well…” Zavala turned back to me, almost looking disappointed.  “Genesis, you will be able to return to the field after a few days to… cool off.  Take this time to learn more about your Fireteam.  Be ready to return to the field in 72 hours.  Dismissed.”

The Vanguard all left the room, followed by the bounty hunters.  I looked at Maverick and Skinner, and walked over to him.  I smiled at Mav.  “See?  I told you everything would be fine.”

Skinner laughed maniacally.  “You should have seen the look on Zavala’s face!  The only other person who’s stood up to Zavala like that had been Metal Man over here!”

Maverick hugged me tightly.  “Good.  I say we all go drinking before we sit down and talk about the team’s history.  This is a victory for all of us.  Especially you.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you confront someone like that, especially not the Vanguard,” Skinner added as we walked out of the room.

“Well,” I said and wrapped one arm around each of their shoulders.  “What can I say?  I have a family to fight for.”

Maverick leaned down to my ear.  His mouth brushed gently against the shell of my ear and my cheeks lit up pink with blush.  “I’m proud of you, Angel,”  he said quietly, so quietly that Skinner didn’t even hear him.

I smiled softly as we entered the Plaza and Skinner hit the button for the Elevator down to the City.  “Thank you,” I whispered back.

[caroline18mars]

A Man On Fire - Chapter 72

There was no protest, no accusations, not yet anyway, she just nodded and meekly followed him like a little puppy to his waiting car, he held open the door and she just got in without a word, “can we go dancing now?” a woman's voice eagerly asked while he got in. Harper leaned back a bit in shock, she hadn't even realized there was someone else waiting in the car, “sorry, no can do, we're flying back to LA tonight” Jared buckled up and started the engine. “Oh, I don't want to ruin any plans..” he could hear Harper whisper from the backseat, “you're not!” he said decisively as he let the car merge with the late night traffic. The atmosphere in the car was tense, the girl in the passenger's seat certainly didn't seem too happy with his decision so she leaned back a bit when there was a whispered argument going on in the front, she didn't need to hear, none of my business anyway. The worry inside of Jared was real, Harper was still in shock, she didn't say a word, she practically only answered with 'yes' or 'no' when she was spoken to, but 95% of the time she seemed to disappear in her own world, when he said he would stop at her house to get some clothes, she did exactly that, she walked inside only to get back out with a small bag of clothes 10 minutes later and the same empty look in her eyes.

Heading towards the airport, Jared got a call and he looked in the rearview mirror when Charles' voice bounced around the car “Hey Jay, did you find Harper?” he watched how all colour drained from her face and she shivered. “Yes..yes I found her..she's right here with me..us”. Charles seemed to hesitate for a second “Oh good..I'm glad..I talked to her mother, there's no change..are you coming back here?” Jared kept staring in the rearview mirror but she just looked down at her hands, “No, we're not..I'm taking her to LA to catch her breath” he sighed, expecting a lecture from him but none came “Ok..call me when you land? We need to talk” Charles sighed. ”You can sit here if you want, get settled in, not long before we take off” he pointed at a seat on the other side of the aisle, his heart melted when she followed his finger and sat down, holding her bag in her lap, she was under such a heavy shock still. If only she would say something..and could his friend with benefits shut up in the meantime, all that one did was chatter, nag, chatter and nag again “and all this on one of my weekends where I finally have some time off” she huffed as she sat down next to him and angrily clicked her seatbelt shut “doesn't she have any other friends?”. Jared just shook his head “will you just shut up? You can still get off the plane and stay in New York if you want” he clicked his seatbelt as the plane slowly started moving, “Miss? Do you want me to put your bag above your head?” the flight attendant smiled at her, “sorry?” Harper looked up at her with a million question marks in her eyes. “Your bag? I need to put it in the locker or you can put it under your seat, whatever is easier for you” the flight attendant patiently asked again, “oh” was all she managed to say as she finally handed over the bag, “let's click you in and I'll come over with some refreshments as soon as we're airborne”.

No matter how hard she fought it, that dark mist in her head just wouldn't lift, she was cold through and through but somehow she couldn't seem to get warm, every single one of her limbs refused to function properly, she was so locked up in herself that she couldn't concentrate longer than a second. Do I still have a father? Am I a cold blooded murderer? Like mama said? A suppressed sob nearly strangled her, but the tears just wouldn't come, she just kept staring blankly ahead, deaf and blind to her surroundings. “Harper?” a hand touching her shoulder startled her, “are you coming?” what? Where? She blinked a couple of times and looked around, “yes” she whispered as she got out of her seat and followed him off the plane. “God, I'm so gonna be glad to be rid of her, what hotel are you taking her to?” his date nuzzled against his ear as they got in the waiting van, “I'm not taking her to a hotel, she's staying at my house” he pulled out of her reach. “What?..but..” her mood suddenly dived below zero, “I'm not gonna discuss it, Steph, she's my..” he hesitated, did he tell her that they were ex-lovers and that he'd do whatever it took to stay in her life? “..she's like family to me and she needs help, I'm not gonna look away and leave her alone in all this”. She rolled her eyes “Djeez..you guys fucking or something?”, Jared shivered, she wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed was she? “No..we're definitely not fucking” he wanted to add 'unfortunately' but didn't. Harper looked out of the carwindow at the citylights that were whizzing by, she had never been to LA but everything seemed so much more laidback than NY, people standing in line in front of a club, people walking in and out of restaurants, a heavy sigh escaped her lips, a couple of hours ago the night had been young and full of promise fcr her too..until she, almost or already she wasn't sure, killed her father, she banged her head against the window and closed her eyes, IhatemyselfIhatemyselfIhatemyself the mantra on endless repeat in her head.

Jared waited for her to get out of the van while he took her bag from her and she followed him up the driveway towards the huge mansion, stepping inside the enormous hallway she realized how little she actually knew of him, he had never talked about his house or about LA for that matter. Nothing in this house reminded her of the nomade she had been with, “you won't need this in LA, you're probably boiling” she heard him say as he reached to help her out of her big wintercoat, she hadn't even noticed the huge difference in temperature. His fingers lingered on her skin as he helped her out of her coat, he had missed her and this closeness so very much “why don't you go sit down, do you want something to drink?” the sound of his own voice bugged him, this entire distant situation between them bugged him. He wanted to talk to her, hold her, comfort her, but she was still so stuck in her own bubble of shock and fear, she functioned but that was about it basically. “Jared, babe, sexy tiger of mine, I'm so tired, all I want is to be horizontal with you” and then there was Steph too who came waltzing into the living room, fuck this! Harper's head shot up like she realized for the first time that there was someone else involved but their eyes only met briefly before she took a deep breath “I'm tired” and got up out of her seat, it was clear these two wanted to be alone. “Oh..of course, I'll take you to your room” Jared said a little bit more relieved than he wanted to admit, he could be alone with her for a while, up an endless flight of stairs, left and then right from one corridor to the other, how big was this house? “this is your room” how weird was this taking her to a guest bedroom when all he wanted was to show her his bedroom?. She followed him inside the huge room with ceiling to floor windows all around, the city underneath them lit up like a christmas tree, “thank you” she whispered looking at the kingsize  bed. “My pleasure”, god, she looked so forlorn and so fragile “are you ok?” it was a dumb question, of course she wasn't ok, but he would have asked anything just to hear the sound of her voice again.

Without even looking at him, she slowly walked up to the window overlooking the city and shook her head “No..I'm scared..my father..I didn't mean to..my family..I don't have a family anymore..I killed him..I'm alone..I don't know what I'm gonna do..am I a murderer?” she clasped her hand over her mouth, the pain in her chest was so heavy like she was struggling to breathe. “Oh babe, don't say that..” he closed the distance between them but when he wanted to put his arms around her, she backed away like a scared cat “your father had a heart attack, you didn't kill him..this is not your fault, Harper!” his arms dropped to his side “you don't just get a heart attack like that”. Her eyes locked with his “why did I make that painting?” she whispered, in the darkness her whispering had something erotic, but before he could say something, Steph decided to end their little gathering “it's late, take me to bed” she walked over to him and pushed herself seductively against him. “Thank you for your hospitality” Harper softly said, breaking their eyecontact “this room is lovely”, goddammit Harper why are you always so politically correct? Even in your darkest hour you still manage to throw up that wall around you and shut everyone out? “try and get some sleep, we'll talk in the morning, if you need anything, my room is” he hesitated hearing himself say 'my room' when all he wanted to say was 'our room' and Steph certainly wasn't included in that 'our', “my room is the first on your right”. All she could do was nod and he slowly turned to leave the room with Steph in his wake, then the door closed and she was alone again, clutching her heart she let herself drop to the floor and pulled up her legs crossing her arms over them, curling herself up like it was all she could do to protect her against the long, black night.

Jared lay wide awake for most of the night, the film of this dramatic evening rolling on endless repeat in his head, Steph stirring in her sleep pulled him out of his waking dream and the gutwrenching dissapointment instantly followed, this bed had the wrong woman in it. What kind of a man, let alone friend, am I when all I can think of is her..us being a couple again in this time of her need?. Every single one of her limbs ached from being in the same position too long as she got up, her phone had been silent all night, the only notification she got was that her battery was running low, she had hoped that one of her brothers would at least have the decency to give her a little update but no..the clan had closed the ranks once again. She put down her phone and looked around the room bathing in the light of an amazing LA  early sunrise, Jared's house..he took her to LA..she tried to sort through the rubble of last night in her head,why was he even there? Maybe a shower would help to clear the cobwebs. “Yes Charles we did land..I'm sorry alright? We were all exhausted..No, of course she's not ok..poor thing's gone into some kind of shock, she's completely disconnected from the world around her after the hospital, what else can you expect when your own mother accuses you of being a murderer? God, what a mess..what? Oh god no..yeah, ok I'll tell her”. This house was so huge and a complete maze and she constantly felt like she was trespassing, she was just looking for a charger for her phone, so she ventured downstairs where the smell of fresh coffee beckoned her to the kitchen, gently she pushed the door and found him sitting at a counter in the middle of an enormous kitchen, scrolling through his phone. “Goodmorning Jay..I don't want to interrupt..I forgot the charger of my phone and I was wondering..” her voice that danced up behind him made his head shoot up, he had so missed the sound of that beautiful, but now so formal, voice. He held up the end of a charger and his cup of coffee to her “I got both, come here” with a big warm smile on his face inviting her over “how are you feeling? Did you sleep at all?” on instinct he pushed a kiss on her forehead. “No..” she shook her head as she sat down next to him “but I'm so very grateful for everything you've done for me last night..I want you to know that! Last night I lost my entire family..you know what I mean..but you stood up for me and took care of me even if you clearly have other priorities in your life right now, I'll never forget that!so thank you, Jay..” her voice trembled and she quickly wiped a tear from her eye.

[diddilysquatbubkis]

(A/N so this is a mini fanfic I wrote and it’s weird but I like it. Because it’s short, it isn’t as sad as I wanted it to be, but hopefully you guys will still enjoy it!)

I Will Protect You

(Dean Winchester x Y/N fanfic)

——————————

You and Dean got close over the past few months. You had a thing for each other, and it was undeniable.

Your favorite way to spend time together was hunting, so you often did cases together. You were the best team.

This case was especially hard because you didn’t know what you were up against. They were a new breed of monsters, and they were killing so many people in such a short amount of time. Neither of you had much time to research what you were fighting because someone was always either dying or dead.

Each victim would get a dead look on their face and their eyes and become really distant. They looked sick and pale. There would also be two small marks on their body somewhere, usually the arm. The epidemic spread like wildfire, and its patterns were odd. It wasn’t contagious through air, touch, or saliva/blood, but it seemed as if it ran in families. It spread all around the town, and there was no cure. Each person that had fallen victim would have 3 days before they were dead.

You and Dean did a stakeout at one of the victims’ houses. His name was Jonathan, and you had interviewed the family of the victim earlier that day. He had been sick for two days now and didn’t move or speak, he just slept in their bedroom. You parked the car across the street from the home and watched carefully while snacking on chips and drinking beer.

Soon, a person with deathly pale skin went up to the house and knocked on a closed window to Jonathan’s bedroom which was on the bottom floor. You and Dean got out of the car carefully with loaded guns. You didn’t know how to kill it, but you could try.

It didn’t go well. Dean shouted at the person to back away from the window, and when it turned towards you, you saw that it’s eyes were black with bright red irises. You shot at it, and the bullet went through the creature. The wound healed up as quickly as the bullet went through it. And then, it attacked you. Badly. You couldn’t see anything because you were being so badly beaten by this creature. Then, you blacked out.

The creature the disappeared, for an unknown reason, and Dean took you to the hospital. Your damage was far too critical for him to heal. It took you a few days to wake up.

When you did, Dean was there, sleeping on a recliner chair next to you, and there was a doctor beside your monitor.

Doctor: “How do you feel?”

You: “Like rainbows and butterflies.”

The doctor ignored you as he pushed a button to lift the top half of the bed until you were almost in an upright position.

Doctor: “Scale from one to ten, one being good, ten being death.”

You: “5.”

Doctor: “You’re strong. Most people would rate your condition as an 8.”

You: “Maybe I’m just ignorant.”

The doctor gave a small smile.

Doctor: “You’ll be in here a few more days to make sure you condition is stable. But it looks like you’ll live to see another sunny day.”

You: “Yippy.”

You rubbed your face and looked over to sleeping Dean with a smile. You’re not surprised that he didn’t leave your side, but it still made you incredibly happy to see him.

You turned on the television in front of you and watched random cartoons until Dean woke up.

Dean: “Hey.”

He said with a sleepy smile.

You: “Hey, sleepy head.”

Dean: “You’re the sleepy head, you literally slept for 3 days.”

You: “I needed beauty sleep.”

Dean: “Go back to bed, looks like you need more.”

You: “You know that I can kick your ass, right?”

Dean: “Not right now you can’t.”

You smiled and looked down at your lap.

Dean: “How are you feeling?”

You: “Like a kid at Disney World.”

Dean: “Doc said you were going to be in here a few more days.”

You: “Yeah, they’re being babies. I could go home today and be fine.”

Dean: “Just-get some rest. Please?”

You: “You need some too, Dean. No offense, but you look like a zombie.”

Dean: “Oh please, I’m gorgeous. Especially compared to you.”

You smirked.

You: “Go back to the motel. Sleep in an actual bed. You’ll feel better.”

Dean: “What about you?”

You: “I’m fine here! I have a nice bed - which reclines by the way - and a tv. I have a great view from the seventh floor. Plus, hospital food is pretty good, not gonna lie. And the doc is pretty cute so I’m set.”

Dean shook his head with a smile.

You: “Go. I’ll be okay. Just get rest. Maybe on your way out you can stop by the gift shop and get me one of those bears with a jar of honey that say ‘Bee Well’.”

Dean: “Sure thing.”

Dean left and you continued watching tv until you fell asleep when night came.

In the middle of the night, you heard a knocking noise. It wasn’t a banging sound, it was casual. So you sat up and looked at the door to the hall, figuring that the doctor was going to come in. But then you realized, the knocking was coming from your window. Then you remembered Dean telling you that you were on the 7th floor. Color drained from your face as you listened to the knocking. Then it stopped.

Voice: “Y/n...”

It sounded like a singing whisper right against your ear.

From your window, you saw a black figure against the navy sky.

Then, a hand came through the window as if there was no glass there.

The creature came forward with it’s red irises beaming through the darkness. You tried to move but your injuries stopped you from doing so. You tried to scream but it felt as if your throat was completely dry and you struggled to even make gagging noises. You reached for the emergency button to call the doctor, but it was too late.

It was there.

The person with colorless skin and black eyes was directly above you. Its face was centimeters from yours. Then, it opened its mouth and two snake-like fangs came out and bit your neck. You blacked out.

Dean came to visit you the next day and noticed that you weren’t feeling well.

Dean: “Y/n? Is something wrong?”

Your skin had gotten a shade lighter and your eyes looked dull. You just stared at the ceiling.

Dean: “Doctor?!”

Dean ran into the hall to look for someone. Eventually, a nurse came to him and they ran in to check on you.

A second nurse ran in soon after.

Nurse 1: “Get the doctor! NOW!”

The second nurse sprinted away as the first started to check up on you.

Nurse 1: “Can you speak to me?”

You just stared at the ceiling.

Nurse 1: “Y/n? Y/n? Can you hear me right now?”

Nothing.

Nurse 1: “We’re going to get your doctor.”

You turned your head towards her, expressionless.

You: “No.”

The nurse and Dean froze.

Nurse 1: “Honey, you need a doctor. You’re ill.”

You: “I’m fine. I just want to go home. Take me home.”

Nurse 1: “I can’t do that. You need to stay here.”

You resumed to staring at the ceiling.

Dean knew what had happened. You were now a victim, and the two marks on your neck was solid proof. In a few days, you would be dead.

24 hours.

Dean spent every hour researching creatures that would fit this description in hopes that he would be able to save you. He didn’t sleep, nor eat, nor leave your side. You barely spoke, and when you did, you were emotionless.

48 hours.

Dean could bary stay awake but managed to down every ounce of coffee so he could focus and help you. The doctors and nurses tried to figure out what was wrong with you, but nothing seemed to work. You only spoke to Dean once.

72 hours.

You stopped speaking.

Dean paced back and forth, saying incantations, but to no avail. His eyes were red, his hair was messy, his skin was pale, his face was stained with tears. Word after word he shouted out latin spells, praying that one would work.

He shouted until the heart monitor sang to him him. Your heart had stopped.

He stood there, motionless, as doctors fled in to try to save you.

After a few minutes of panic, everyone stopped scrambling and looked at the doctor.

Doctor: “Y/n y/l/n. Time of death is 11:16 pm.”

The room seemed to fade into gray. The world seemed to cry. And Dean couldn’t think of anything to say.

Your funeral was two days later and Dean helped with the burial. It all seemed too soon, it all seemed wrong.

Dirt spilled onto your casket 7 feet below Dean’s shoes. You rested in darkness.

(To be continued)

[illuminating-dragons]

Kin (8/72): Waking Up (Angelina Johnson)

Angelina felt lost after the war.

She and her family had stayed to fight; they lived in a Muggle-heavy part of Manchester, and it made a lot more sense to stay and help protect their neighbours than to flee the country. Their pureblood status protected them from Ministry scrutiny, and Angelina spent a lot of nights thanking Oliver for all of those drills in the late nights and early mornings—practice flying in the dark came in handy more than once.

She missed her friends, missed school, and panicked every time Potterwatch started to fade out. Most of the time it was the mandatory ‘quiet’ part of the episode, to help them fly under the radar. But the night there was cursing and a shout of ‘leg it—they’re here!’ Angelina trembled as she put up protective spells and prayed.  But it always came back on, no matter what, and that was all that mattered.

She fought in the Battle, and screamed with George when they saw Fred lying dead. She screamed again hours later, when Harry lay so still in Hagrid’s arms, because it couldn’t be, George couldn’t bear the loss of another brother…

And then, not fifteen minutes later, it was all over, just like that. Angelina’s head whirled like mad, and she clung to George, relief making her kiss him, and then exhaustion making them both fall into a doze in the Great Hall. Sleeping anywhere was another thing she could thank Oliver for.

But then the war was over, and what was there to do now? There was no more need for civilian volunteers, and Angelina drifted. Her parents took her on a trip to Botswana to celebrate, and Angelina visited with her mother’s family and drank plenty of bush tea, and wondered what on Earth she was going to do when she got home? She had a vague idea about George, but he was so broken. They wrote that whole long month, but there was nothing they could really say to each other. How do you acknowledge a hole that deep?

Angelina did return with her parents, and she tried to go back to her old job, working as a clerk at Flourish and Blotts. She’d always loved reading, and being surrounded by books was exactly what she always wanted, but the shelves had lost their magic for her.

Every day she saw Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, with its windows boarded shut, and she prayed for George. Going to Mass during the war had never helped, and she’d stopped going. Did God even care about magic folk? Her father insisted that he did, but Angelina’s faith was never as strong. Oh, she believed in a God that most of her peers didn’t acknowledge—which was fine, because everyone had their own faiths, and it was their actions that mattered the most—but whether God could help anyone, that was another thing entirely.

But finally one day Angelina saw the shop open, and she went inside right away. George stood at the counter, in those magnificently clashing robes, and there were a few employees.

“Hullo Angie,” he said. “How’s your job been?”

They didn’t talk for long that day, but it gave Angelina a glimmer of hope to see him actually at work. He wasn’t healed yet, but maybe he would be.

Angelina spent the next few months going between work, her small flat, and the joke shop. She saw George every day, and every day it seemed like George was getting both worse and better. To a customer who didn’t know him, it might look like George was rebounding well from his twin’s death, but in private he was getting more…hollow. That’s what it sounded like when he spoke, like something had been taken from him inside.

Angelina knew how that felt. She’d already given notice at Flourish and Blotts, but she didn’t know what to do next. She drifted into helping George at the joke shop, and eventually became an employee, but they were both sleepwalking that year, pretending to be normal, even with each other.

But one day they both woke up. For George it was Ron quitting the Aurors and coming to help in the joke shop, and for Angelina it was a coffee date with Lee.

The idea that Lee used to joke about wanting to go out with her, a play on the fact that they were the only two black students in Gryffindor and everyone asked them that, was hilarious. But they were still friends, even though they hadn’t seen each other in over a year.

“How are things going with Commentating?” Angelina asked. “Can you still smile?”

“I’ve found ways,” Lee answered. “It’s tough, but you do find laughter eventually. You don’t look well, Angelina.”

“I don’t feel awake,” Angelina answered, too tired to be anything but blunt. “I’m just going through the motions. At least during the war I had something to do, but now I just feel useless. I can’t even help George, really.”

“You can’t help people if you’re feeling just as bad as them.” Lee’s face lit up. “I might actually have a job for you!”

“I don’t want to play Quidditch, thanks.” Could she manage to fly again, to care about a game? Not yet. Not yet.

“No, I was actually talking to Arthur Weasley the other day. He told me that his department’s new initiative is to set up magical protective measures for Muggles all over the country. They’re going to start in London, but…well, the war might be over, but I don’t think things will be safe forever. Neither does Arthur.”

Angelina blinked, and then grabbed a napkin. “They’d have to be pretty non-invasive, or they would notice. And they’ll need to be renewed regularly…” They wouldn’t be spells erected hastily under cover of darkness, dodging Death Eaters…they could be real. And maybe they could help with other Muggle things, making those alrum systems more effective…

“Angie, you with me?”

Angelina took a deep breath. “Yeah, Lee. I’m with you.” She laughed out loud, shocked by how true that was. “Oh my gosh, this could be wonderful? Did Arthur say if he was hiring?”

“You’ve got an interview in, oh, twenty minutes?”

Angelina hugged Lee as hard as she could. “What can I do to say thank you?”

“Make me the godfather of your first spawn?”

“Not if you call them spawn I won’t!” Angelina shouted over her shoulder and racing down Diagon Alley. She needed some time to come up with some plans, no doubt Arthur was expecting some level of preparedness.

But Arthur wasn’t expecting anything other than her to show up, and the two spent almost three hours talking through different plans. Angelina had never spent much time with George’s parents, and she’d never noticed how like his father he was. There was the same enthusiasm, the earnest disregard for rules in pursuit of noble aims, and a genuine heart.

At the end of that three hours, Angelina had a job that would start the next day, and she felt like singing as she went back to Diagon Alley, because she had a plan to help George.

But George met her at the door to Wizarding Wheezes and swept her off her into a deep kiss. When they broke apart, Angelina saw his eyes shining, and she found out that Ron was coming to help with the shop.

“That’s great! I’m going to work with your dad, but I’m going to be free to come in sometimes! And George, I think you might want to look at jokes that help people in trauma.”

George didn’t speak.

“We’ve both been trapped trying to pretend that the war never happened,” Angelina said. “That we’ve gotten past it, and we’re fine. But we’re not fucking fine, none of us are, and we need to work with those feelings if we’re ever going to be happy.”

George all but dragged her inside, and Angelina rushed to keep up. They passed Ron, who politely fled, and just made it up the stairs and into George’s room before they started tearing off clothes.

“This was a good feeling the war gave me,” George grunted out as he touched her. “I won’t ignore it anymore.”

Angelina gave back touch for touch, kiss for kiss, and they didn’t stop until they were too tired to move anymore. And for the first time since the war ended, Angelina felt wide awake, even as she drifted to sleep.

The next morning Angelina woke up just before George. When he did wake up, he gasped and looked at her.

“I heard Fred,” he whispered. “I dreamt, and I heard him. That’s the first time since—since he died.”

And Angelina held him and let him cry into her shoulder, and thanked God, because George sounded awake for the first time.

They built their life together surprisingly fast after that. Angelina flourished in her new job, and with Ron and Seamus’ help Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes started doing even better. Angelina started spending time with George’s family and talking with the ‘Weasley wives’ (even though some of them weren’t married yet, though it was only matter of asking for Ginny and Hermione).

It turned out that it was only a matter of asking for Angelina too, because the moment she realized that she was pregnant, George blurted out a proposal. It took Angelina twenty minutes of shouting to be convinced that George already had a ring for her, he was waiting for the anniversary of them getting together, and he would be alright with getting married even without a baby.

But they got married very much with a baby—Angelina was seven months pregnant the day they said their vows. They were the traditional vows in her traditional church, but Angelina didn’t mind that the words had been said before. Their love story hadn’t been told yet, and it felt right to begin with familiar words.

And of course, when Freddie was born (would have been Freddie whether it was a girl or a boy, Angelina insisted), and Lee Jordan came by with a bouquet of flowers that squirted Angelina in the face, Angelina threatened to take godfather privileges away.

She didn’t, of course, and when Roxy came along (her beautiful, smart little girl with her grandmother’s eyes and name), she graciously extended them.

Motherhood was exhausting, and being part of a large family was confusing, and being responsible for the security of innocent, uninvolved Muggles during any wizarding crisis was daunting. But Angelina kept her head up and a smile on her face, tears in her eyes when she needed them, and faith in her heart.

She was awake again, and that was all that mattered.

[sunshinykittens-blog]

Not Enough Alcohol in NYC...

Saturday, November 25 the wee hours of the morning. I think.

I would love to go to sleep right now, God knows I have been through enough chaos the past 72 hours to qualify for hazard pay, or at least PTSD treatment. The flights, the usual holiday family drama (not EVEN my family), an empty apartment, snotting all over some Tower residents, new digs…but I probably should start from the beginning…

Wednesday

When last we left our intrepid adventurer (that would be me), it was in an airport, JFK to be exact. I was waiting, along with Sunny and the 3 younger kids, for our flight out to Pasco (via Seattle) to spend the Thanksgiving weekend with her mom and oldest child. My kids weren’t going to be at my family gathering, so no sense in going home, especially since I’m spending an entire week home for Christmas. Besides, Sunny’s mom has been going through some health issues, and I haven’t seen her in forever. Sunny made all the flight arrangements, all I was supposed to do was pack my bag and be ready to go. So something I didn’t know about her before this day, seeing as I had never flown with her before: Sunny is paranoid about missing flights. I realize that this is one of the busiest days for traveling, and that means all the lines for everything would be extra long, but I am still not sure why we had to leave the apartment at 6 am for a 1:30 pm flight. Maybe she thought we’d get caught up in the parade traffic. But since The Man arranged for a car to take us to the airport (and pick us up upon our return Sunday afternoon), we didn’t have to worry about getting a cab or riding the subway (Sunny’s great idea). So yeah, I am grateful to The Man for the car. Amazingly, we checked bags and got through the security lines very quickly. We were through to the gate section of the airport by 10. Even though one of us was chosen for the random search (guess who that was). Luckily I didn’t have any contraband to speak of, so that was pretty smooth, except for them telling me I needed to get my driver’s license updated to my new address when I get back. Yet another thing for me to have to squeeze in before Christmas. Sunny suggested we grab some coffee and lunch while we waited for our plane. Over this meal is when she told me we had another 3 hours before we were scheduled to board. That’s when I made my last post. (BTW, the girl child is an extremely talented artist, I’ll have to post some of her work sometime soon. Oh, and Sunny did manage to catch the loose cannon. When last I saw, all the kids were still alive.)

I will say this, at least Sunny got us first class seats for our flights (yes, I said flights). It was nice, but we were kind of spread out a bit. Which is nothing compared to the connecting flight in Chicago, which was delayed over an hour for mechanical problems, and we got bumped to another plane, and everyone was pretty scattered then. For our final leg from Salt Lake, though, we were in one cluster of seats, thanks to the airline folks feeling bad for us having missed that connecting flight. After they saw how frazzled she was with the middle child, who kept wandering off. But we arrived safely at our destination airport only about 2 hours later than scheduled. Oh yes, and every time we hit an airport with wifi, Sunny would get a gazillion messages from the oldest child asking why we weren’t there. I felt bad for Sunny, so I admit I bought her a drink in Chicago and Salt Lake. And then I paid for a taxi van to drive us from the airport to her mom’s house so we wouldn’t have to wait for a shuttle.

Didn’t take long for the drama to start when we got there, though. There was only one bed in the house, and that belonged to Sunny’s Mom. The oldest hadn’t even put her bed together, so we were all sleeping on the floor. I haven’t done that in I don’t know how long. Mom started in on how worried she’d been and why were we late, and then blaming Sunny for not getting there any sooner (like we can just hijack the plane or something). But like I said before, Mom had recently had some health problems, so I just tried to overlook it and be there to support Sunny. She was going to need it. Then we all stayed up way too late (with far too little alcohol), and finally got to bed at some point after midnight. I whispered to Sunny as we were drifting off that had I known we were going to sleep on the floor, I’d have rented a car and got a hotel room. Or at least rented some rollaway beds.

Thursday, Thanksgiving

Well, this day started entirely too early for a regular day, much less a holiday, even with the extra time we got for being 3 hours later than home time. Mom had said she needed help cooking, and we were fine with that. But she needed to oversee everything and everyone, assuming we had never entered a kitchen before in our lives. By the way, who in their right mind puts an egg into their literal Stovetop Stuffing? Menu was pretty good, very standard: ham (instead of turkey, which was fine with me), stuffing, green bean casserole, sweet potato soufflé, rolls, and 2 kinds of pie with whipped cream. It was a store bought kind of meal; everything came out of a box, can, or bag, or was bought ready to serve like the ham. Except the pumpkin pie. The Airport Problem Child made that and did a really good job, if I do say so myself. Which I do. So as soon as everything was cooked, we had to eat – right that second! Dinner conversation included why in the world did Sunny move so far away, why didn’t she tell her mom and oldest before she moved, why didn’t she find a man and settle down, how her mom’s health was (not good and how much worse it was getting every second that Sunny wasn’t caving), how the kids liked school, Sunny works too much, maybe at least she could find a husband in New York, how were my kids doing, and when was she moving back to Washington. We tried deflecting most of that by saying we had good jobs that we liked, we were making really good money at them, and we were about to move into a secure building at the first of next month. After dinner (with an unhealthy side of stress and heartburn), everyone retired for a nap. Except for Sunny. She stayed up to clean. Of course I stayed up with her. And it took every bit of 2 hours to clean. After which, the tree came out.

Sunny is not a Christmas person, she really doesn’t like it at all. She feels it’s entirely over commercialized, which I agree with. Unlike her, I enjoy the holiday season with full gusto. My only complaint is with people who have conniption fits when people break out the Christmas songs before Thanksgiving. I also find these are the same ones who then start complaining that there isn’t enough time in the Christmas season to get everything done that they want to do – starting the day after Thanksgiving. Anyway, Sunny was going to be aggravated with the evening. So first, her mom put on some Christmas station with some really annoying, tacky Christmas music. And let me tell you, that is really saying something coming from me. I love all Christmas music. At least I thought so until that night. I mean nobody liked it. Not even Sunny’s mom! And then the tree, it’s a wonder Sunny hasn’t ground her teeth down to stumps. It’s kind of old, but we couldn’t get her mom to let us run out and buy a new one. And the lights…it’s a wonder they can’t see that thing from space. You know those sort of net-type lights, the kind you drape over the shrubs outside? 5 of them. Draped onto a 6 foot tree. Then we had to add another 15 strings of plain white lights. I tell you, I needed shades when we plugged in the tree. Then the ornaments, a mix of glass, plastic, and handmade kids ornaments, and then those irritating silvery plastic icicles, the kind that clog up the vacuum. Then, just when we were starting to get into the tacky music, Mom changed it to something equally obnoxious.

About an hour later, I was questioning my decision to be there for the whole weekend. Because that’s when the oldest started in on how unfair life was and how hard she has it there. I could tell she was angling to move with us. Allow me to say one thing about the eldest child: Super Social Justice Warrior Snowflake, she’s about as far from me on the spectrum politically, religiously, and socially as you can get. And before we had left New York, Sunny made me promise that I would not start a fight with her. In other words, I’m surprised that I didn’t bite my tongue off in the short time I was exposed to her awake. She went all over the place from one thing to another, but finally I’d had enough. In fact, I don’t even remember what it was she said, or even what I said, only that I finally blew up and smacked her with an opinion that should have given her a heart attack right then and there. But her face welled up and she stormed off to her room, slamming the door shut and sobbing loud enough to be heard in Seattle. I just looked at Sunny and said I needed to get some air. I grabbed my coat and headed out the door. I walked for a good while, too bad I don’t have a fitness tracker because I easily walked 10k steps. I finally got so cold I went back inside (no hot water for a shower, but I’ve come to not expect that), and crashed in the living room with the kids instead of in the eldest child’s room with Sunny. I slept very little, eventually getting up literally at the crack of dawn for another walk.

Friday

Overnight I had come to the conclusion that neither my blood pressure nor Sunny’s family could take me sticking around for the rest of the weekend. As soon as I walked out of the door, I was on my phone with the airlines looking for the first flight out. I agreed to be on standby; even an airport had to be better atmosphere. I called a taxi, and realized everything except for my carry on bag was still in the bedroom where Sunny, the artist, and eldest child were still asleep. I was not about to go in and risk waking the crew. Instead, I tiptoed over the boys and went to the kitchen to leave a note.

“Sunny, Needed to fly back quickly. Can you please bring my suitcase when you come? See you in a couple of days. Call when I get home. Tell your mom thanks for dinner. Kate”

I carefully gathered my few things in the living room and made for the door. The youngest sat up and rubbed his eyes, then asked where I was going. I lied to the boy, told him I was needed at work, and that I’d see him in a few days. He shrugged, nodded, yawned, and went back to sleep.

I sat in the airport for only a couple of hours before I got on a flight to Denver, where I sat for two hours before I got a plane to New York. From JFK, I took a taxi back to the apartment. As I was walking up the three flights to the apartment, all I wanted to do was take a long hot bath, cuddle with my Spazzie, and get a full night’s sleep. I planned to spend the rest of the weekend lounging around and maybe doing some packing for the impending move looming on the horizon. It was about 11 pm. I unlocked the door to my apartment, stepped in, turned on the lights and saw…nothing.

Literally nothing. Every single thing was missing from our apartment. No futon in the living room. No dishes in the cabinets. No towels in the bathroom. And, the horror hit me as I realized, EVEN THE CATS WERE MISSING!!! For the third time since I moved to New York, I was dialing 911 to report a theft. And, bless her heart, Officer Yang came to take the report. I tried to give a pretty good description of what was missing. Her partner went down to the super’s apartment but there was no response. About half past midnight, Jake’s mom came home from her shift and looked in. We found out from her that a group of men had come first thing that morning and had been packing up our stuff. She had assumed that she had misremembered the date of our move. She offered to let me stay in their apartment, but I didn’t relish another night sleeping on the floor. Instead I called a cab as soon as the police left.

I had thought about going to a hotel, but figured they would pretty much be booked solid. I decided the best place for me to go would be to the Tower. I knew there were comfortable looking sofas, at least, and I figured that all the residents were gone for the holiday. Maybe I could convince The Man to hurry up the remodel because we really did have nothing. No sense in buying furniture, moving into the old apartment to just have to move it the following week. I had the taxi drop me off at the Tower, and I stood just outside to make the phone call I was dreading. I had to tell Sunny we had been cleaned out. I got her voicemail, which made some sense to me. It was closing in on 1:30 am, which was 10:30 pm there.  And her mom was always fussing about her being on her phone. I left her a message and promised to call after I got some sleep. Then I went inside.

The night guard was someone I hadn’t met before, but I had my badge so he let me in. The elevator ride up was the longest leg of my journey. I was reviewing all the events in my head and was starting to feel overwhelmed when the doors opened on the 91st floor. I had decided that I was going to have a cup of tea before trying to find a blanket and settling in on the sofa in the lounge. Surely The Man wouldn’t begrudge me that after everything I had been through. I hung up my coat and stashed my carry on in the closet and entered the common area, headed to the stove to heat water in the rarely-used kettle.

Standing at the island were three men. I recognized Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes from news stories I had seen over the years. The other one was unfamiliar to me. They were casually dressed, sweatpants and tees. It appeared they had just come down from the training room, they were slightly sweaty with a healthy glow. Captain Rogers was pouring some post-workout smoothie thing into glasses. I took a deep breath, feeling everything from the past few days welling up behind my eyes, and my nose starting to tingle and burn. I was desperately trying to contain my emotions in front of the people that I was definitely going to be running into in the halls and elevators, residents of the Tower. I was not going to lose control.

They glanced over at me as I came in. Captain Rogers welcomed me, asking if I was one of the housekeepers. I told him I was and then he said he thought we’d be back Sunday evening and where was my partner. I told him that she was still in Washington, and we were supposed to be back Sunday, but I had to leave early. Sergeant Barnes then asked why. And I think that’s where I started to lose that tenuous hold on my emotions. I tried telling them about the disastrous 24 hours that Thanksgiving had been, but I think I became a bit flustered. I don’t think I was making sentences. And then pieces of the past 2 days came spilling out and I absolutely burst into tears. Next thing I knew, I was seated on a stool at the island, Sergeant Barnes was doing his best to awkwardly comfort me with an arm around my shoulders, and the man I didn’t know was pressing a tumbler of some form of alcohol into my hand and demanding that Captain Rogers go find Mr. Stark and bring him up immediately. Before long, hthe Captain had returned with The Man Himself in tow. I will admit, he was concerned to see me sitting there sobbing, and he asked me what was wrong. I lost it again, someone handed me a handkerchief, and after about 5 more minutes, I regained some control. I blew my nose, took a deep breath and started to speak, but when I tossed back half the dark amber liquid, there went my voice.

When it returned, I told him as calmly as I could about the stress at Sunny’s mom’s house, that I just had to leave before really bad things were said, the layovers, the crying babies, coming home to a literally empty apartment, finishing up with the emotional outbursts they had all just experienced, which I assured him was a rare occasion, and could I please have a blanket so I could crash on the sofa. I finished the drink while waiting for the answer. I noticed glares aimed at The Man from the others in the room. And then the Captain threatened to call Miss Potts. Finally The Man said to follow him.

We went down on the elevator together, all four of us. I could almost feel the heat of the glares directed at my boss. This was the second elevator ride I’d had with him that was in complete silence, but somehow I felt like the awkwardness was coming from him this time. The doors opened on the 62nd floor.  I followed The Man down the hall to the door opposite the one he had showed us at the beginning of the week, the others behind me like some sort of guard or something. I now thought that what he was going to do was bring up a bed for me. Maybe this convinced him to complete the remodeling ASAP. But when I stepped into the now opened doorway, I was completely flummoxed. There, inside that room, was my apartment. Complete with cats. Spazzie came racing towards me and I scooped him up cuddling and scratching behind his ears. And I started crying again. I put him down for a minute and asked what the hell was going on.

The Man shrugged and told me he’d figured it would be great if we came back and found everything already moved in. One less thing for us to worry about, as it were. They had gone in, packed everything up and moved it, though they hadn’t known what stuff was mine and what was Sunny’s, so unfortunately we were going to have to go through the boxes ourselves. I was really jet lagged, and it was after 2 in the morning, so it took a little while for everything to sink in. But when it did…

I yelled, I screamed at him, I cried big fat hot mad tears. Sergeant Barnes smirked, thoroughly enjoying every word. Sunny’s cat, Aaron, came into the room and started pawing at me. I scooped him up and continued ranting. And then I realized something was climbing my leg. I looked down to see this cute little gray tabby kitten working its way up. And that was most definitely not my cat. I’d never seen it before. The guys all insisted that it must be ours because it was inside the apartment when they packed it up. And it had a collar. About then I felt all my energy drain from my body. I ordered them out and told them that we would finish this conversation tomorrow. I fell into the bed in the bedroom and pulled a comforter up over me. Spazzie curled up behind my knees, Aaron was behind me, and the kitten sprawled out on the pillow next to me. I’ve got to call Sunny tomorrow to let her know everything is OK and to just come to the Tower as soon as she gets in. But right now I need to sleep.