#desperate- but above all so so CRUEL to max and her friends

[robinsteve]

“lucas, i’m scared. i’m so scared. i’m so scared. i don't wanna die. i’m not ready. i don't wanna go! i’m not ready.” if the duffers kill max in s5 after that we will be having words.

[elkdiaries]

🔀 lumax :)

my spotify wants me dead.

hawkins, late 1986. winter is at its worst, and with supernatural erosion leaking into what seems like every crevice of their town, the availability of resources is fizzling with the days. the local hospital is hardly of use any longer, given the damage caused within it by roaming, otherworldly predators. still bedridden, max is forced to reside in a locked room, one of the only ones escaping erosion, with a thick layer of steel over her window. the bats have been a threat to anything lately.

there aren't any wreaths or trees dressed or christmas lights hung, not even for communication. it's cruel, how empty winter feels without the sparks of distraction planted within the cold. it's monotonous, the frustration that eats at the party and all those who assist them in their journeys. vecna is alive and slipped through their fingers all summer. now, hope is scarce among everyone.

lucas clings to his remains of the feeling out of desperation, rather than belief.

max is dimming. like the streaks of sunlight that once protruded from the bloody clouds above, she fades out, and no one can say what will help, or if proper attention could even bring someone out of whatever low state she's in. lucas thinks anything would do the trick. an extra spoonful of medicine, an especially satisfying warm meal. if the upside down is possible, anything could be, he argues. mike and dustin give him empty nods.

she can't grin without her jaw hurting. can't even form a teasing scowl. lucas thinks that's the real torture, that the girl with so much to express can only make half the point anymore.

and he can't give max her health. not her happiness, or closure, or even a smile. but he can give her that distraction, so she doesn't have to memorize the wallpaper that seems to gray more with the minute. he could be with dustin, stealing rations, or the older kids, plotting another trip to the world that now looks identical to their own. but there's a chill to his body he just can't seem to shake, and a craving for normality that makes him itch. there's a girl locked up in a thinly blanketed bed, who he loves. yes, who he loves. which is a silly notion at this point, and one that he needs to convey to her.

so he bikes his way to the hospital, with a message, and a bag of gingerbread cookies.

her attitude, sparky and loud, rings through his entire body from the moment he enters. squashing into the bed with overlapping elbows and knees, together they devour the cookies, quite a delicacy during an era such as this. quiet anecdotes are shared from lucas, tales of el and steve and even mike, and laughter fills the air, the first warm thing either of them have felt in a while.

when silence enters, lucas doesn't know what to do with it. it seems accusatory, bringing up every curse the future has to offer. max sees the fear in his eyes. lucas knows she does.

so he blubbers, about how they'll be home soon, with their friends and the family they have left. that it'll end, and that she'll survive, because she has to, because she will.

and she can't tell him that she believes him, so she tells him what she knows.

"i love you, okay?"

he almost doesn't hear it. but it echoes, and when it does, everything does.

he sobs into her neck and repeats her words until they clog in his throat. they hold each other. they hold each other like it's new, with recognition of every stuttering fingertip. the fear within them is silent, for a moment, for an evening, until they fall asleep in each others' arms, under the glow of a subsiding fluorescent lightbulb.

[milkacchan]

Request for anon: Hi!!!! i love our writing and i just knew you could do this! Could you do one with a father Aizawa and a gender nuetral chil reader, who is jealous of Midoriya. Because when Midoriya harnesses his quirk Aizawa be happy dadzawa but when the reader was like 6 or 7 and harnessed theirs he said like " Work harder." Or the world won't want a weak hero and stuff and thats why they hate Midoriya and stuff? IT IS SOO FINE OF YOU CANT!! THANKS <3

•Midoriya is nice.

• He's /so/ fucking nice

• He has a nice smile

• His freckles are nice

• His attitude is great

• He goes out of his way to make sure people are okay

• Which makes it worse and pisses you off more.

• You've been jealous of him for awhile- please he's the center of attention for everyone

• But that isn't your problem

• He's the center of attention for your own dad.

• At least it seemed that way.

• Shota Aizawa, your father, was a teacher at U.A.

• He was bound to get attached to students, that's what teachers are supposed to do

• But..it felt like you were on the back burner and not enough

• when you develop your quirk, you dad gives you a speech

• You're first sucess with your quirk, your father tells you to work harder

• And that's all it ever is

• "work harder"

• "you should be farther along by now,"

• "this isn't a joke, why are you treating it that way?"

• there wasn't a good job or a congrats or praise

• But there was with midoryia

• who got all of it.

• he got good jobs and impresseds

• He got way to go kid and that was smart

• At the beginning of the year you liked him

• He was friendly and funny and he seemed like a cool dude

• He was a cool dude and you hated him- yourself even more for that

• You couldn't ever hate him, not truly.

• Not even when your father praised him, took him under his wing, focused on him

• Even shinsou- you didn't hate him. You were great friends with him.

• But Midoriya irked you, even if you couldn't find it in you to talk behind his back or fuck him over

• Your jealousy for the boy only grew as your fathers praise to him grew and his words to you grew distanced.

• And yet you still thrived for the man's approval

• You wanted to be recognized

• You wanted validation

• You wanted praise and approval.

• You wanted love.

• You stopped speaking to Midoriya, completely. The poor boy didn't deserve a blow up from you, it wasn't his fault.

• Contact to him stopped. His conversation muted unless it was to the class Group Chat

• Your seat? Unfortunately still near him, was no longer an issue if you just ignored his presence

• If your group was hanging put with him that day, you'd skip with some dumb homework excuse.

• No one said anything

• Aside from shinsou that is.

• The smart-ass always had something to say

• "You can't just ignore your problems forever."

"I'm not, till talking to you."

"Funny. But seriously. He's going to question it if he hasn't already. Word gets around.."

• In all seriousness, shinsous worried. He's really worried.

• He's watching you distance yourself from people, from midoryia- hell the only reason the two of you still talk on a daily basis is because he forces it.

• You don't mind, of course, he know that. You did the same to him when his mental health had declined.

• But he sees you're doing it for validation

• Amd he knows Aizawas words aren't malicious. You're his kid, he's worried and wants you to survive over anyone else.

• Doesn't mean how he's going about it is right.

• and it isn't long before you start taking physical training to the max too.

• After class you train for hours until dinner.

• Sometines you miss it; sometimes you don't get home until much later.

• One day in particular though, you start training on a Saturday morning

• He tells you to be smart, keep hydrated and take breaks before he leaves for the day

• Only to come back at dusk to you still training

• "Quirks are currency shinsou,"

"That doesnt-"

"I have to get stronger, no one's going to want a weak hero"

"Y/N please- you've been out here all day. It's hot and muggy and you've barley eaten anything. You need breaks. You can't be a strong pro hero if you die of heat exhaustion." He takes your arm and pulled it down from the punching bag. "You're worrying me."

"I'm not strong enough," you mumble. "Dads right,"

• Eventually Midoriya starts to question why you're ignoring him

• He doesn't think he's done anything wrong

• Maybe he said the wrong thing? But what even is the wrong thing? What could he have said?

• After one particularly rough morning, you're struggling with something

• You're already pissed and ready for the day to be over.

• And it's only 10 in the fucking morning

• And Midoriya, desperate to heal what he once had with a friend (you), walks over to help

"Hey," he starts. "You look like you need some help?"

You pause, glancing in his direction for only a moment. "Go sit down," You mutter.

"I just want to help-"

"I don't need your fucking help. You are the LAST thing I need," you snap. "Who the fuck would /ever/ need you?" You grab your bag and shove him back, leaving the classroom.

The class quiets.

• Midoriya didn't deserve it, no. You knew that.

• You also knew that you weren't in the place to go back to school, so you didn't.

• You took the day off, wandering the streets of your prefecture

• Shinsous blowing up your phone

• Katsuki is too.

• Katsukis upset, you would be too if someone spoke to your friend that way

• Everyone else is too on edge to text you, they're worried though.

• Of course, they go to Aizawa.

• They tell him what happened and how you've been acting

• And he nods quietly and says he'll take care of it.

• Shinsou finally finds you at the Cafe you frequent and he quietly sits across from you

• "you should be in school," you mumble

"So should you."

It's quiet for a few moments before you speak again. "I think I'm going to leave U.A. Mom lives in Miyagi, they've got some nice highschools there. I talked to her over the phone last night."

"What? What no, you can't?"

"Why not, Hitoshi?"

"Because you're a hero-"

"I'm not. I'm not a fucking hero. I haven't made any successes while I've been here, I haven't developed anything, Dad was right."

"You dad was wrong. He's wrong. He's- He's worried one day you're not going to come home. Or when you do you won't be in one piece, so he's pushing you and pushing you," he took your hand gently. "You're strong. You're going to be a great hero. You've already accomplished more than you know."

"I blew up at Midoriya today," you slide him your drink and he takes a sip.

"I know." He nods. "But that's okay, we can deal with it later." He squeezed your hand.

"Yeah, later,"

• It's very much later by the time you reach your dorm.

• The day Shinsou moved to the 1A dorms was the day you'd rejoice

• Your bag is tossed to the side and you make your way to the kitchen and freeze.

• Aizawa is sitting at the table, facing you.

"Your friends are worried about you,"

Yous scoff. "Yeah I'm sure they are."

"Midoryias worried about you."

"I really don't care."

"You shouldn't have snapped at him." Aizawa sighs.

"Thats-" you take a deep breath. Of course he only cared about Midoriya. "Typical." You move to the fridge to get something to drink.

"I..apologize," he begins. "'It's come to my attention that I haven't exactly been the best father to you since your mother left,"

"You think?" You muttered.

"I'm worried. I'm scared."

You look up at him.

"The world is cruel. And I've lost so many students to hero work in the years I've taught, I wouldn't be able to handle it if I lost you to. But it seems I'm already down the path." He stood up and walked over to you. "You're my kid, I love you more than the moon and the stars, I want you to stay safe. Above everyone else, above all else, I want you to come home." He kisses your forehead.

"It'd be nice to get a good job every once in awhile. Everyone else does." You mutter, looking down.

"You are doing great, you know. I don't say it nearly enough but you impress me everyday."

• It's...a little awkward after that, neither of you know how to process emotion so after two days you just pretend like it never happened

• You quietly apologize to Midoriya and wall away before he can respond before pretending like that didn't happen either

• You're not expecting him to want to be your friend

• But he's very adamant on texting you, inviting you out, walking with you you to class

• 1A becomes whole again

• But Shota does ease up, you get the good jobs, the praise, the validation

• And you eat it up to be frank, you fucking love it.

[sebastianshaw]

Hey there @vvithteeth! So, this isn’t EXACTLY what you asked for the readlist to focus on, but I think it’s worth checking out all the same for a general sense of Emma’s history leading up to her current character!

 EVIL 80s EMMA She’s not good reference for who Emma is NOW, but a good look at what she used to be, and what she’s overcome. I think looking at Emma when she was at her worst, helps one appreciate her at her best. If you see what she had to rise above in herself, you understand the self that she’s fighting back, you have a better appreciation for the kinds of things she’s tempted towards---and the kinds of things she no longer does.  X-Men (1st series) #129-131 is her introduction, as she tries to recruit Kitty Pryde to her school before Xavier does. One of the most chilling moments, for me personally, is when she threatens to destroy Storm’s mind so that she will be “human only in physical form” And then Jean drops a house on her, which is why she’s not involved in the Dark Phoenix saga, as she was still recovering.  Emma continues trying to get Kitty and other kids into her clutches in  Uncanny X-Men (1st series) #180 and  New Mutants (1st series) #15-17, but in New Mutants (1st series) #38-40 she finally manages it by exploiting their current fucked-up state and having her student Empath use his powers to manipulate Magneto.  But when the kids decide to return to Xavier’s school, Emma allows them to do so without a fight, and just tells them that they’ll always have a place with her if they need it. Which seems nice, but then her thought balloons reveal that this is just so the kids won’t believe it when Magneto tells them she’s evil. Firestar #1-4: Whoa mama, Emma is at max abusive here. See, she desires to eliminate Selene, and to this end she trains a young mutant she names Firestar. She does so by manipulating the girl, isolating her, convincing her that she NEEDS Emma to help her control her powers or else she’s dangerous to others, and even KILLS HER PET HORSE. Emma is someone who says “I love children. Teaching is my life.” and she MEANS IT, she has a genuine call to teach and her love for her students is her driving force, but here we see how she USED to treat her students. Then put her against who she is now, it’s a huge contrast. Honestly, I don’t know why SOME WRITERS want to erase her growth by pretending she was Actually Good All Along but yeah, here’s Bad Emma. This is who she fights. This is what she has risen above.  EMMA’S BACKSTORY ISSUES Emma’s history is. . . kind of multiple choice. She tells one version in Generation X #24, but this doesn’t fit at all with the Emma Frost miniseries that came out from 2003 -2004, which also doesn’t exactly fit with “X-Men Origins: Emma Frost” single-issue backstory. I personally would read the “X-Men Origins” one and at least the beginning of the miniseries, specifically the parts that deal with her home life. The reason is that both of these show how unhealthy Emma’s home was growing up, and how that made her who she is. When I saw I think Emma is “wired” to be a villain, I don’t mean I think she was born like that, but as in, I think her environment trained her to become like that. It’s kind of like how a lot of personality disorders aren’t something a person is born with, but come from being in a shitty environment where certain behaviors will help you survive better, and then even once that situation is over, you can’t get rid of those behaviors because it’s how your brain is wired now. That’s how I read Emma---she came out of this toxic, duplicitous environment of manipulation and abuse where she and her siblings were set against each other, and that’s now her default for how she interacts with the world, even though she was originally just a sweet little nerd who only wanted to be a teacher. The “Origins” one features a generic Shitty Abuser Shaw and isn’t as good as the more drawn-out miniseries, as it focuses more on physical abuse (like her father suddenly slapping her) to get a point across that her family is toxic, rather than the more drawn-out miniseries, which I think works better for explaining Emma’s specific brand of. . .Emma-ness. But the bit where her mother tells her that her father is hardest on her because he likes her most of all, is really important I think, since that reflects her relationship later with the Hellions, which is also shown in this. Because Emma is cruel to the Hellions, even though she loves them, and in fact because she loved them. Her love for them and her agony over their deaths is what drives her to join the X-Men in the first place.  As for which origin story is true. . .I think the miniseries one is probably MOST true, as it’s the only one that Emma herself isn’t telling as a story. But as the friend who helped me assemble this list puts it, “ Think of any origin story of Emma's as "a sort of fairy tale, a parable," where it's the theme that matters, not the precise events or timeline “ 90s EMMA Emma spent most of the 90s teaching Generation X. I don’t remember a lot of stuff for specifically what I’m talking about with her, but here are a couple issues that strike me as significant. Uncanny X-Men (1st series) #311-314: In  Uncanny X-Men (1st series) #281-284, the Hellions were killed and Emma Frost was left in a coma, her body taken care of by the X-Men. This is when she wakes up, takes over Iceman’s body, and goes on a rampage thinking she’s the prisoner of the X-Men. When she finds out what happened to her Hellions, she collapses in despair and turns herself over to the X-Men. This is her turning point. This is when we found out Emma Frost had a soul. That she LOVED the Hellions. That they were not just tools. And there’s this one line in the yellow narrative boxes that really sticks out: “As the Hellfire Club’s White Queen, she spent the better part of her life traversing from one mind to another, violating the very essence of anyone she so chose. Losing herself in the memories of others. Altering, at times, the opinions of those who opposed her. This time is different. This time it is about survival. This time. . .it’s for the children.” The words are echoed when she agrees to join Krakoa's Quiet Council, after Charles and Erik tell her their plan and convince her it might just work. "One more time, then. For the children." Emma’s true love, in my opinion, isn’t Scott. Nor is it Namor. It’s teaching.  Emma becomes the teacher to Generation X, as mentioned, and in Generation X (1st series) #18-19, during the Onslaught crisis, she’s so terrified of losing them like she did the Hellions, that she snapped, took the kids to a safehouse in Canada, and put them under her telepathic control for their own safety. This is an Emma who has learned that abusing her students isn’t the right way, but still doesn’t respect their autonomy or consent even as she’s desperately trying to protect them, and has to learn from Monet (who is. . . .actually not Monet) that this isn’t the right way to do it either. Emma did not grow up with adult models who showed her how to love and care for a child, she has to figure it out herself, and it’s a rocky journey at times, even though she has the best of intentions. I think this is a good issue to show an Emma who is in the process of evolving. She’s getting better, but she still hasn’t got it “right” yet.  CURRENT-ERA EMMA Emma really becomes the Emma we know with Grant Morrison’s New X-Men in the early 2000s. This is where she starts affecting a British accent, calling everyone darling, and the delightfully witty Queen of Mean while also still a devoted teacher with trauma over losing her students. She always was witty and a little mean, but Morrison takes these traits up to 11 and gives Emma the foundation of what a lot of writers would build upon. It’s also when she begins her telepathic affair/seduction of Scott, which is a more than slightly problematic dynamic, as I’ve discussed. Also, this is when she got her now-famous diamond form.  We get a lot of lovely Emma nastiness in this series. New X-Men #128-139 all have lots of great moments for her where she’s just WICKED yet still on the side of the angels, and New X-Men Annual 2001 starts us off.  However, character-wise, I think what really comes out here is Emma going from blaming her past actions on substances (she tells Scott in the New X-Men Annual 2001 that she just probably out of her mind on drink and drugs all those times she was doing bad things) to being forced to face her past and herself for the first time when confronted by Jean & the Phoenix in New X-Men #139. It’s the first time we get a look at what Emma’s family and home life was like, as well as the first time she’s established as having a brother, but more than that is the emotion that gets brought in. This is also when Morrison decided to retcon the Hellfire Club as a strip joint (which I hate and also shows up in Emma’s “Origins” story) but that’s neither here nor there. The point is, Jean makes Emma face all her flaws and pain and nasty, most vulnerable parts of herself.  Emma is left mentally broken...then one page later, physically, shattered by a diamond bullet that we later find out was fired by none other than Esme, the Stepford Cuckoo whom Emma later says reminded her most of herself. There is definitely poetic symbolism there. As my friend put it “This cycle of her students dying and Emma losing it and trying again but never facing the roots of her issues goes on and on until her roots literally kill her, and Jean of all people resurrects her. Jean, who saw right through Emma, saw something there worth saving, and literally and metaphorically put her back together again.” The next place I’d go is Astonishing X-Men, which is the first time Emma and Kitty work together. Kitty HATES Emma at this point, because, as she points out, Emma is the villain in her origin story. And Emma KNOWS this. That’s why she WANTS Kitty there. She knew that Kitty would keep an eye on her, wouldn’t trust her, and that’s what Emma WANTS, because Emma doesn’t trust HERSELF. So this shows that Emma KNOWS her moral compass is a very flawed one, and that she WANTS to be better so consciously that she’s getting someone she knows doesn’t like or trust her to be around because she knows she’ll watch her like a HAWK. This also means Emma is admitting she can fail, and giving some control to someone else.  There’s. . . so much that happens from here. Utopia. Phoenix Five. The Terrigen Mists shit. Secret Empire. I feel like there are probably great Emma readlists out there that include these, but honestly I just kinda zoned out through a lot of it. These are some additional read lists for her I found: https://lornahs.tumblr.com/post/87230882649/where-to-start-reading-emma-frost-lets-start  https://www.reddit.com/r/comicbooks/comments/2bwwok/emma_frost_reading/  It’s definitely a LOT and I wish you the best of luck tackling it! Also, I wouldn’t feel you have to read EVERYTHING, or incorporate everything into your depiction. Pick and choose what you feel works best for your version!

[roselen-mylady]

In Another Life

Bucky Barnes x reader ° part ten

Summary: Waiting 88 years to find your soulmate? It was cruel. But it was a cruel fate Bucky would have to face whether he accepted it or not. Bucky was a tortured man all his life and he wasn't even granted the solace of having his soulmate at his side. All he had was the promise of one in another life. They were separated by two different times.

But the pain in their lives were connected.

Y/n had been alone ever since she could remember. All she could depend on was the soulmate that was destined to be at her side. Yet when the snap occurred she lost him.

And Bucky never got to meet her.

Though Steve showed no signs of leaving or the anger Y/n had feared, she still felt the anxiety that came from revealing her true past. He was supportive, as he always was and so was everyone else once they were told. Tony only had a mere, 'I knew it' to add to the subject and while Y/n was touched, she couldn't help the array of things she felt. 

Foolish was one of them. Hiding her past from them before was stupid but Steve insisted that her going underground was probably best since HYDRA would've searched for her. While that brought her some solace she was still uncomfortable with the idea of becoming more involved. Something always went wrong and Nat was proof. 

She missed her friend badly and Y/n couldn't help but feel it was her own cursed luck that had taken Nat. It was ridiculous to think that she could ever be happy. Stupid to think she could help her friends bring back everyone. Stupid to think she might actually meet her soulmate.  

"Hey, kid. We're going to put the stones together." Tony cut into Y/n's racing thoughts. Her gaze lifted from the drawing Steve had given her, settling on Tony as he leaned in through the doorway. 

She didn't know why she was still looking at the picture or why she had even accepted it. She wanted to believe she was still furious, still resentful. Wanted to force all the pain and guilt she felt into him once more. But in all reality she was just so lost. For years she pretended to be someone else and now that she was free to be the girl she once was, she didn't even remember who that was. 

A genius? A hero? A terrified little orphan? She had no idea but she didn't want to be any. She wanted to be Y/n, a friend and a psychiatrist. She now understood why Steve wanted her around. He needed someone to remind him of who he was, who he truly was. 

Was James that person once? 

Was that why she found herself gazing at the sketch, hoping for a split second that maybe she could go back to the moment that was drawn? Praying to go back to a time where James Barnes was fighting for his past and his own will. A time where he might comfort her like he did Steve over the death of Nat. A time where his thoughts were his own and so we're his actions. 

Y/m almost hated herself for despising him. Though she knew there was still much to his story she was too scared to ask, she knew he was nothing more than a tortured soul with a gun. She couldn't figure out how the man in the drawing was the same man who'd nearly killed her. 

It wasn't.  

Noticing her broken expression, Tony hesitantly stepped into the room coming to sit with her. Her fingers gently held the page and he looked down at it, recognizing the face instantly. It sent a chill through his spine, seeing the same face almost ripped the arc reactor straight from his chest. 

It had taken him years to forgive Steve but he still struggled to do the same with the man who murdered his parents in cold blood. All the hatred toward his parents' assassin had gone unresolved since Steve and Bucky left him at that frozen HYDRA base. And once forgiving Steve, Tony had no other outlet and he found it difficult to sit there with the picture.

So he tried to focus on something else.  

"So, you and Ms. Romanoff were close?" He mumbled trying poorly to begin consoling her. She nodded numbly, folding the paper and setting it aside. 

The emotions she felt were mixed and intense making it hard for her to filter through her feelings but one surfaced more than others. Guilt. 

"Ever since the snap." She replied, her shoulders slack. Tony and Nat had their own relationship, one much older than her own but they'd been apart for so long. Ever since Nat went off the grid with Steve and even after the snap when he distanced himself from all of them, they hardly interacted. But they were friends. The type of friends that wouldn't be parted even by death. 

"Do you think things would be different if I hadn't showed up?" Y/n asked him suddenly. He looked over at her studying her guilt ridden eyes that she kept trained on the floor. It was a familiar look, one he wore often. But not one he wanted her to. 

"Natasha wasn't the type of person to let anyone dictate her choices. I think she was ready to give her life for a cause and none of us could've stopped her." Tony sighed, the weight of her death finally reaching its max. "Not even a couple of geniuses." 

•••

"Let's hope this doesn't blow up." Tony mumbled next to her. The small group consisting of them with the addition of Bruce and Rocket stood in the lab, waiting in anticipation as Tony carefully placed the stones in the gauntlet. With his shaking hands it was difficult to be precise while he manipulated the machine but he managed to place all six stones in their respective places. They held their breath unsure if the stones would react or blow up the lab as Tony feared.  

"Boom!" Rocket yelled suddenly making all of them flinch. He began to laugh loudly and they all turned to him with annoyed looks. Y/n slapped the back of his head, cutting his laughing short as she walked off trying to ignore the trembling in her legs. Tony muttered something under his breath moving to bring the gauntlet to a more accessible area for the wearer. 

"You're an asshole." Y/n groaned. Tony walked past them, putting the gauntlet on a display table that made it hover a couple inches above. 

"Come on, it was funny!" Rocket argued, earning an unamused stare from both Tony and Y/n. 

It took a few minutes for Bruce to collect everyone but eventually everyone was gathered around the gauntlet. Most had expressions Y/n familiarized with PTSD and once following their gazes she realized their experience with the gauntlet Thanos wore was resurfacing. 

Hopefully, with the new one they'd be able to reverse what he'd done. But the trauma would stay. That she knew. 

"All right. The glove's ready. Question is, who's gonna snap their fucking fingers?" Rocket questioned, looking up at the group. Their options were limited since most people in the room were only human, even Steve. 

"I'll do it." Thor volunteered without hesitation. He drunkenly stepped forward making everyone turn to him with confused and reluctant looks. Their choices were limited but they weren't desperate enough to put such a powerful object on a drunk god.  

"Excuse me?" Scott asked, glancing around at the others for one of them to tell Thor what a bad idea it was. 

"It's okay." Thor insisted, marching forward with a purpose. Steve moved to stop him with the help of Tony making the poor large man pause. 

"No, no, no, whoa. Stop. Stop. Wait a sec. Hey, hey–" Everyone was a mess of refusal and Thor's face turned hurt as he tried to continue. 

"Wait, wait, Thor, just wait. We haven't decided who's gonna put that on yet." Steve explained. Thor shifted on his feet, clearly upset with their rejection.  

"I'm sorry. What, we're just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?" He asked,

annoyed. Scott looked to Y/n hoping she might use some of her 'therapist powers' he called them after realizing she really couldn't read minds. 

"We should at least discuss it." Y/n tried to reason. Thor shook his head stubbornly, swaying unsteadily on his feet. 

"No, no, sitting here staring at that thing is not gonna bring everybody back. I'm the strongest Avenger, okay? So this responsibility falls upon me. It's my duty." He told them, gesturing to the gauntlet then himself. 

"It's not about that–" Tony told him gently, coming to stand in front of him as he started to move Thor back. Thor resisted but was unsuccessful as he started to grow emotional. "Hey buddy-" Tony tried again only to be cut short by Thor frantically shushing him and everyone else. 

"Stop it! Just let me! Just let me do it. Just let me do something good. Something right." Thor begged, tears filling his eyes. He was desperate to prove he was worthy, to prove he could still be the hero he once was. 

"Look– It's not just the fact that that glove is channeling enough energy to light up a continent, I'm telling you, you're in no condition." Tony fought. There was no way they were going to let him hold the fate of the world in his hand while he was drunk. Even the Thor he was years ago shouldn't have held that kind of power, it was too risky. 

"What do you– What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?" Thor asked, his eyes studying Tony's for any kind of hope that might tell him they would let him make the sacrifice. 

"Cheez Whiz?" Rhodey scoffed, earning a glare from Y/n. Thor looked over at Rhodey pointing a shaky finger at him as he tried not to cry in frustration. He held onto Tony, grasping at his shoulders and prying Tony's attention away from Rhodey's comment. 

"Lightning." Thor corrected, looking back to Tony with pleading eyes. Tony nodded but he knew he couldn't allow Thor to wear the gauntlet. "Lightning." Thor repeated, distraught but Tony's reaction. 

"Lightning won't help you, pal. It's gotta be me." Bruce announced suddenly. Thor shook his head letting go of Tony. "You saw what those stones did to Thanos. It almost killed him. None of you could survive." Bruce explained. 

"How do we know you will?" Steve questioned as Bruce paced over to the gauntlet. 

"We don't. But the radiation's mostly gamma. It's like...I was made for this." Bruce mumbled. He gazed intensely at the stones, silently calculating his odds. If the Hulk couldn't handle this, was this really how he was going to die? And if so would it even work? 

They looked at each other knowing it was their best chance at bringing them back. They had to take it. 

Tony stepped forward, grabbing the gauntlet and handing it to Bruce as they headed to a more secure part of the lab. 

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Y/n asked Bruce quietly. She knew how Nat's death had affected him and she refused to make the same mistake with him. 

"Yes. We have to finish this." He declared. Y/n watched as he paced forward to catch up with Tony as she lagged behind to Steve. 

"Do you think this will work?" Steve questioned. Y/n chewed her lip anxiously, focusing her stare at the gauntlet as Steve came to stand beside her. 

"Bruce's gamma radiation is stronger and most equipped to handle the energy but it's still dangerous. The stones are too powerful together, I didn't think they were ever really meant to be used together." She sighed, hating the sacrifices that came with saving the world. If they lost someone else just for this to not work was it really even worth trying? 

"Bruce is strong." Steve tried to ease her worry but it wasn't enough. 

"I know. I just-I can't keep losing people, Steve. It's like a curse. Every time I try to do something good…-" 

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're not gonna lose anyone else. Not on my watch." Steve promised but both of them knew it was practically empty. There was no guarantee. "Let's just bring everyone back." 

Y/n tried to smile but like his promise it was hollow. "Yeah, okay." 

"Good to go, yeah?" Tony questioned as Bruce carefully held the piece in his large hands. He seemed anxious but who wouldn't be in that situation. 

"Let's do it." He confirmed as Y/n and Steve returned to the group. She walked around him, stopping beside Tony and sharing a steady nod. 

"You remember–everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago, you're just bringing them back to now, today. Don't change anything from the last five years." Tony told him seriously.

"Got it." Bruce assured. Then suddenly the room grew quiet and a tenseness settled in the air that Y/n was too amazed to catch onto. For the first time she realized she was living the dream of millions of people. Everyone had readied themselves and Y/n watched as they stood there in their superhero uniforms, the power and determination they all had washing over her. 

Tony pressed his chest allowing his suit to expand and morph to his body, a shield lighting up before him. His stare then drifted to Y/n who still stood there in her casual clothes, watching them all confused and out of place. Why were they getting ready now? They were doing this here? 

"Hey, kiddo. Come on." Tony urged, motioning to her earpiece. She gave a soft 'oh' mimicking him as she pressed the button making her own suit appear. A shield of her own design came to her forearm and Tony eyed it curiously. 

"Did you mess with the suit?" He asked, the seriousness in his tone startling her a bit. She shrugged, looking at him defensively. 

"Yeah, you said it was just a prototype so I fixed it a bit." She explained. He looked away, grateful she couldn't see the entertained smirk on his lips as he turned back to Bruce. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., do me a favor and activate Barn Door Protocol. Will you?" Tony called. Y/n had gotten used to the suit during the time she could spare to examine it and she put 70% power into the armor, figuring if something did go wrong it probably wouldn't hurt to be a little more protected. 

"Yes, boss." F.R.I.D.A.Y replied. Metal doors began to close off the lab as the compound went into lockdown and if the seriousness of the situation hadn't set in yet it definitely did then as Y/n widened her stance to try and brace herself. 

"Everybody comes home." Bruce reminded himself, cautiously reaching his hand into the gauntlet. The gauntlet expanded to fit his hand thanks to Tony's nanotech but as soon as it was fully on the power of the stones surged through him. He grunted in pain collapsing to his knees as the energy began to burn into his arm. 

"Take it off! Take it off!" Thor cried, waving his hands as Bruce shakily held the gauntlet. Steve stepped forward, keeping anyone from acting. 

"No, wait. Bruce, are you okay?" Steve questioned. He knew more than anyone that just because something was painful didn't mean they couldn't do it. 

"Talk to me, Banner." Tony called, becoming more concerned with each unresponsive moment. Y/n started moving to help but froze as Bruce looked up at them.  

"I'm okay. I'm okay." He insisted. They eased up a little and everyone watched carefully as he tried to regain control of the stones. Thor gave a double thumbs up, watching the scene before him with an astounded expression. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y what are his vitals?" Y/n questioned anxiously. Charts bloomed around Bruce and she quickly read them realizing his heart rate was dangerously high. In fact everything was high, his blood pressure, his respiration rate, even his body temperature had increased. Bruce screamed again, fighting the instinct to remove the gauntlet from the overwhelming pain it caused him as he lined up his fingers. 

The world seemed to stop at the echoing of the snap, the fated sound she'd only heard about for five years finally filling her head the same way it had for the others. 

He fainted and the gauntlet fell off his arm, clattering on the floor before Clint quickly kicked it away from him. 

"Bruce!" Steve called, kneeling beside him as the others rushed forward to check on him. Y/n tugged the remains of his sleeve back gently as Tony kneeled beside her, holding up his hand. 

"Don't move him." Tony demanded, applying a coolant spray from his fingertips over Bruce's arm. Bruce groaned, reaching out and grabbing Steve's arm urgently. 

"Did it work?" He questioned breathlessly, keeping his large hand tight around Steve's arm. Thor gave him a reassuring smile while Y/n looked over the damage of his arm. 

"We're not sure. It's okay." Thor soothed, his voice hopeful as he turned his gaze toward the door where the lab was starting to open up again. Scott walked off to the now open area and some of the others spread out to see what had happened but Y/n stayed at Bruce's side. 

"You did great, Bruce." She told him, giving him a smile to which he returned, though it was a bit more pained. A muted vibrating came from the table on the other side of the room and Y/n turned to see Clint walking over to it almost numb. 

Did it work? 

"Honey? Honey." Clint spoke, his voice quivering in joy as Y/n looked at Tony. They shared a wide eyed glance, both rattled by the idea that they might have actually won. 

Y/n wished to look at her wrist, praying that the countdown she had before the snap returned. She couldn't even remember how many days it had read back then but it didn't matter anymore. She just wanted to meet her soulmate. Would he be looking for her?  

Were his eyes really blue? 

But their victory couldn't last long and Y/n knew that as she followed Bruce's gaze to the skylight above them. There flying menacingly above the compound was the biggest spacecraft she had ever seen and dread instantly set in upon seeing the missile coming their way. 

"Look out!" Y/n screamed, trying to warn the others but it was too late. Her helmet quickly came forward along with her shield which she tried desperately to put over Bruce's head, protecting her and him from falling debris. But the roof wasn't the only thing falling apart. 

The floor split and some of the group fell into the large hole while Y/n struggled to regain her balance. She quickly looked around her, catching sight of Steve sliding across the floor toward the hole. Using the thrusters, she launched forward, grabbing hold of one of the straps to his uniform and dragging him back toward Tony. 

The building was falling down around them and any means of escape were closing off faster than she could find them. Steve managed to climb to his feet again but before either of them could come up with a plan a large piece of the roof fell, striking Y/n down. She cried out falling through the floor to the room below, getting pinned on her stomach under the roofing. 

"Y/n!" Steve yelled, peering down into the hole. Y/n gasped, the impact knocking the wind out of her. Tony looked down too, the two men struggling to keep themselves up as they waited anxiously for her to speak. 

"Minimal damage to prototype armor." F.R.I.D.A.Y announced making Y/n groan. She slowly lifted herself up using her back to push off the rumble before leaning back on her knees, panting slightly. 

"You call that minimal?" She questioned, annoyed. Tony chuckled through the headset, her reply giving him a little relief knowing she was alright.  

"The suits can handle more than we can, kid." He explained. Y/n grumbled, climbing to her feet. She didn't care how durable the suit was, she was still very much human inside the metal and every hit the suit felt, she did too. 

"Are you okay?" Steve called, leaning closer to the edge of the hole. Tony put a hand on his chest, keeping him from falling in while Y/n slowly climbed to her feet. 

"Yeah. I'm fine, Steve." She waved her hand pretending to be nonchalant before coughing from how forcefully her lungs had been emptied. They were about to attempt to go down to her when the floor they were on shifted and Steve fell over, sliding off to another part in the lab. 

"Cap!" Tony called, trying to reach out and catch him. Steve called back that he would be alright giving Tony a little assurance as he turned his gaze back to Y/n. "This building is falling apart!" He called down to her. 

"What do you want me to do?" She asked, looking around at the floor around her. She had landed in the living room area, one of her favorite places but like the rest of the facility it was falling to ruin. 

"Find the stones. We can't risk losing them." Tony instructed. Y/n let out a short sigh, the weight of the task making her stomach turn. 

"Is it too late to go home?" She joked. Tony smiled softly unbeknownst to Y/n. The building shook again with another hit and he knew he wouldn't have long to talk to her. 

"No." He answered truthfully. If she could find a way out, there would be nothing stopping her. She could easily fly away and forget about this. "But you know what they say. It only takes one fight to make a hero." Tony explained. 

Y/n pierced her lips, knowing that she never really intended on leaving. She was all in from the moment Scott had been yelling into the camera and though she'd been doubtful before, she knew this was where she was meant to be. 

"Go be Iron Star." Tony chuckled, making her scoff and shake her head. Of course, he had to ruin the moment. 

"We really gotta talk about that name!" She called, turning away and running off toward the window to her left. Using the thrusters in the metallic boots she flew forward and smashed through the glass, unsteadily keeping herself in the air outside. 

"Just find the stones." 

•••

When Bucky had woken up he was right where he'd been in Wakanda. T'Challa ran to him trying very hastily to explain what had happened. They had been gone for five years according to the wizard man they called 'Strange' and now they needed to come fight Thanos again. 

While Bucky was usually quick to understand and move on to the next fight, he couldn't help but stop at this news. He'd promised himself that the fight with Thanos was the last time so that he could find his soulmate but he was still fighting. When would it stop?

For a split second he feared maybe his chance at meeting his soulmate had come and gone and he frantically ripped back his right sleeve to look at his wrist. 

"3 days?" Sam asked, peeking down at Bucky's arm as T'Challa organized his army. Bucky numbly nodded, his heart racing as he watched the seconds tick away. He was three days away from her. 

He had to make it through this time. 

No matter what. 

•••

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, can you scan the compound for the stones' energy signature?" Y/n questioned, looking over the wreckage of what was once the Avengers compound. It didn't even look the same, all blown to the foundation with rubble spread around like a battlefield. 

"I detect energy levels matching the stones underneath the building in the sewer systems. You should have access through what's left of the first floor." The A.I. answered. Y/n flew over to the nearest opening of the building, using micro lasers to burn a hole into the floor leading down into the sewers. 

She jumped down into it, landing as quietly as possible before looking around. It was hard to see much, the only light being the blaring red light of the alarm system but the tunnel appeared empty other than the obvious debris and flooding. She cautiously walked forward watching as her display outlined the surrounding area. 

It was eerily silent, the soft trickling of water putting her on edge as she continued down the tunnel, following the power signature of the stones. 

"I detect hostiles approaching." F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke suddenly. Y/n watched carefully as her display changed, showing a clearer picture using an x-ray of the surroundings. The stones rapidly approached as did the hostiles and she quickly held up her hands, powering up the repulsors as Clint ran into her vision.  

"Shoot 'em!" Clint screamed, narrowly dodging one of the creatures that lined the tunnel. Y/n did what he said, firing at the closest creature before moving onto the next, trying to hold them off long enough for Clint to run past her. 

"What the hell are these things?!" She yelled, following after him as they both broke off into a sprint through the water. 

"I don't know but I'm tired of this alien shit!" Clint shouted over his shoulder as Y/n glanced back at the creatures, firing again at one that got too close. Clint pulled out one of his arrows, throwing it into one of the pipes next to them before running faster. 

Catching onto what he was doing, she picked up speed as well, jumping with him as the arrow exploded taking out most of the creatures. Y/n looked up from the ground, noticing that some of them had started to crawl through the flames making her climb to her feet, grabbing Clint under his arms. 

She activated the thrusters and they launched up, faltering a bit since Y/n had barely learned to fly by herself let alone while carrying someone. Clint unsheathed his sword, yelling as he cut through some of the creatures that had climbed up beside them. 

Once reaching the top Y/n dropped him to the side before falling herself, tumbling a few feet away. Clint climbed to his knees, holding out his sword as he let out a threatening shout. Thankfully, no other creatures appeared over the edge and he collapsed onto his back next to Y/n. 

"Hey." Clint chuckled, nudging Y/n tiredly. "You're an Avenger now." He told her drawing a half-hearted laugh from her. She groaned the pain in her ribs increasing at the action and she put a hand over her side. 

"Being an Avenger hurts." 

•••

Once going through the portal the wizard had made, Bucky was met with a wasteland. Thanos and Steve watched as others arrived through the portals and while Steve's expression was much more relieved than Thanos', it was clear they were only evening the playing field as Bucky looked toward Thanos' forces. 

The Wakandan armies chanted as hundreds of other heroes came through the portals, each ready for the final battle. He walked forward, coming to stand a few feet away from Steve as he studied the enemy across the way. He was determined to finish what they had started five years ago. He wanted to find his soulmate and he wanted this fight to truly be the last. 

"Avengers!" Steve called. Bucky held his breath, hoping with everything he had that for all his misfortune over the years, today would end better. 

He'd suffered for a lifetime. 

Please let this be the last fight. 

"Assemble." 

Everyone yelled, running forward at Thanos' forces. The fight broke out and Bucky managed to find himself alongside the raccoon he'd encountered last time. They shared brief eye contact and Rocket's eyes flashed with recognition while Bucky tried to ignore him. 

"How about now?!" Rocket yelled, motioning to his arm. Bucky glanced over at him, growing annoyed with the talking animal's persistence. What the hell would a raccoon do with his arm? 

"No!" Bucky yelled back. He turned, noticing one of the creatures had been sneaking up on Steve while he had his back turned and Bucky quickly shot at it, knocking it down. Steve turned, giving Bucky a grateful and joyous smile. Bucky smiled back making sure to keep aware of the creatures around him. 

"What the hell did you get me into, Steve?" Bucky yelled teasingly. His friend gave a short chuckle, using the large hammer to slam back another one of Thanos's creatures. 

"Nothing two old men can't handle." 

Taglist:

Part eleven

@cancanmarvel

@jessyballet

@eldahae

@mc225g

@kissesofdeadforme

@wantingtobekorra

@sxphiiwrld

@lunaticbarnes

@indecisivedolly

@saiyanprincesswanie

@lextheflexsthings

@silver-winter-wolf

@whatifwedo

@arguedquill1226

@lunashaw57

@loushkspr

@3aileypage

@mela-noche

[ask-anti-cosmo]

The return of Anti-Cosmo part 2

Part 1

Anti-cosmo stayed in the suite, knowing you had to come back sometime, especially since you told him you were a day out to land. You dreaded coming back to your room but found him on the computer on a social media site.

“Is there a Anti-fairy Facebook page?” you asked sarcastically.

“Anti-Fairies, as well as Fairies, are very well connected believe it or not. You just need to know the right sites to look for. And even then, only magical beings can use it, if you’re mortal you only see a blank page.” He explained, not looking up at you. “Won’t be long now.”

“Won’t be long till what?” you frowned.

“Till my wand comes to me. My subordinates are going to help bring it back here, by magic or whatever means it takes.”

“Where were your subordinates when you were in the safe?” you folded your arms.

“I go off on my own a lot, they probably assumed I was following a chosen victim.” He shrugged and turned away from the screen for a minute to face you.

“Is that how you got in that safe in the first place?” you asked expectantly.

His eye twitches slightly. “Hunting requires risk, surely you know that. They had just set up an…elaborate trap I was completely unprepared for. A descendant from one of my victims. One of the only victims I left alive. No matter, I won’t make the same mistake.” He insisted with dignity.

“Why did you let them live in the first place?” you asked curiously.

He sat quietly before picking up a pencil and started doodling on a nearby notebook. He drew a young girl with ringlets and a frilly dress. She looked almost like a sweet porcelain doll.

“My perfect little Doll…in her perfect little dollhouse...” he said fondly.

“Why did she need your help if she was perfect?” you frowned.

“Her family was so painfully flawed, she was trying to save them from their own stupid actions.” He explained. “Then one day, she decided she was done cleaning up after them, left to make her own perfect house, and sent me away. Most of the time my victims call me back, whether conscious or in their hearts, but she never did. The last I saw her was at a ball she threw. I had a lovely time.” He said, looking at the pictures longingly before starting to sketch another woman.

“Who’s that?”

“She was my date to that ball…” he sighed. “I actually might have fallen in love with her…alas, she was human and it didn’t last. I probably could have granted her my immortality but…” he sighed and set down the pencil. He glanced at the computer screen, looking for a response or message for him.

“But…?” you asked expectantly.

He sighed at your persistence, but smiled. “She slit her wrists one night. Humans have such limited mental capacities, and Misfortune follows in my wake. It was probably inevitable.”

“You couldn’t bring her back with magic?” you asked curiously.

“I am not so cruel, I let the dead stay dead. After all, there are plenty of living to choose from.” He shrugged.

He stayed by the computer for the rest of the trip to the harbor. You found a trench coat to wear that you cut the bottom off to fit him better, and hide the fact that he wasn’t wearing pants. You felt he was your responsibility and lead him to your penthouse in the busy metropolis.

“My my my, not such a fancy pants that you own your own place eh? Just a simple flat?” he teased.

“It’s the best you can get in such a place jack*beep*.” You glared. “Besides it’s not my only one, and I do have a house, just not here.”

“Boring.” He rolled his eyes and checked the phone you gave him to monitor his messages. So far there was still nothing, making him huff.

“Alright now, what is there to do around here?” he asked carelessly.

“Why don’t you go check out my closet? You’d look lovely in one of my ball gowns.” You smirked as you greeted your cat.

Anti-Cosmo rose an eyebrow. “You’re just jealous cause I probably would.” He mumbled. “I doubt you have my color.”

“Why don’t you tell me more about yourself. Like, what’s with the Anti in front of everything?”

“We are Anti-Fairy dear, we are the equal and opposite forces of the regular fairies. Spelling our names backwards to prove that doesn’t always work. For some it does, but it’s often just easier to say Anti.” He stated simply.

“What, so there’s a regular fairy version of you?”

Anti-cosmo cringed slightly. “He’s an absolute idiot. A goodie goodie nuisance to all he meets. I want nothing to do with him.”

“So if you’re opposites, and you’re the annoying one…” you smirked as he shot you a glare. “Also, if you’re an all powerful magical being, why do you need to drink human blood?”

“Mostly to prevent a magic crash.” He shrugged.

“A what?” you frowned.

“Oh dear, do I need to explain what a crash is?” he sighed.

“No I know how drugs work.”

“Not those kind of drugs!” he insisted with annoyance. “I told you I am full of magic in my veins, correct? So are Fairies. Only they can only let so much build up before exploding. So it’s just called ‘magical build up’. They use the wands and become godparents to help expel the magic as well as do, what they hope is good, by making children happy.” He said with disgust.

“And you what? Use your build-up for evil?”

“Have you not been listening? I am the equal and complete opposite power that is my fairy counterpart! Meaning, my magic regenerates when used, but it is usually at max capacity, that’s normal for an anti-fairy. That being said, when I cast a spell, it takes longer to build back up. If I use too much magic, I will run out, causing a magical crash.”

“Do you explode from mortality?” you teased.

“No.” he huffed then stayed quiet for a minute. “…I implode. It is reversible so it’s not possibly to kill us that way.”

“And you drinking blood comes into play where?”

“I’ve discovered that nothing makes ones magic regenerate faster than human blood.” He licked his lips. “ESEPCIALLY the blood of the misfortunate. Just the thought of meeting a poor soul who’s never succeeded in anything makes my mouth water! Anyways, I always use magic, for everything, so it’s convenient to have a blood supply nearby. However I doubt you’ll have the same effect, so after I get my wand back I will be bidding you a fond farewell.”

“Sounds just fine to me.” You huffed.

“So, what to do till then?” Anti-Cosmo said thoughtfully. “Go to a rave? Go night shopping? Hunt for ghosts in the park~?” he smirked and waved his fingers at you.

“How about sleep? It’s been a long exciting day and I’m exhausted.” You huffed and started getting ready for bed.

“Oh, you can sleep when you’re dead!” he whined and pulled at your sleeve.

“Why don’t you get back online and catch up on the past 15 years worth of memes?” you said and got into bed.

“Oh please, nothing could be funnier than the troll faces that say “u mad?”” he waved his hand at you.

“Oh buddy, you’ve got a lot to learn.” You smirked and went to sleep.

He stared at your sleeping form, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “Soon my sweet…so I will have my way with you, you lovely immortal thing~” He licked his lips. He then checked for messages for his lackies and found nothing. “*BEEP*.” He pouted.

In the morning, you laid on your back and Anti-Cosmo was flouting above you. You frowned at the sight of his face and turned over. “Its bad enough I’ve had to deal with you till late last night, but now you have to flout over me while I’m asleep like a creeper?” you huffed.

“What can I say? You enchant me.” He said and started walking his fingers up your back. You shivered and swatted his hand away.

“Still nothing from your people?” you asked and sat up

He sighed and leaned back. “No…which is really odd.”

“Maybe you can try again? Post something else?”

“That would make me look whiny and desperate, then more of them would be less inclined to help me.” He huffed. “Besides, I’d much rather wait and possibly get some breakfast.” He said, looking at you hungrily.

“Oh for crying out…don’t even think about it!” you glared and got up. “You want blood, you’ve got to go to the fridge for a bloodbag.” You said as you walked to the closet.

“People healthy enough to donate blood rarely have enough misfortune to satisfy me.” He pouted.

“Boo hoo, you’ll have to have your cocktails AIDS-free then.” You rolled your eyes. “And if that’s the case, my blood would be nowhere near satisfying.”

“You think living eternally alone is a blessing?” he asked with his eyebrows raised. This did stop you in your tracks.

He drifted towards you, suddenly shrinking down and sitting on your shoulder. “Come on now, you got to taste my blood! I’ve never had Vampire blood before, I’m curious!” he urged.

You hesitated dispute knowing you’d get no benefit from this exchange, as well as you know darn well you owed him nothing. Before you could decide however, a ding came from the phone on the bedside.

Anti-Cosmo zoomed to it, growing to his original size as he snatched it up and read the notification. His mouth grew to a twisted grin, his eyes shimmering with joy.

“Ah, Anti-Juandissimo, you never fail me dear friend.” He smirked.

He suddenly stood up and held up his hand. A black wand with a star at the end appeared in his blue skinned hand. His face broke into a villainous grin as he spun it around and gave it a wave. Magic erupted from it and made his old clothes appear on his body, but they were new and pristine. His monocle returned, dangling from his earlobe before swinging up to it’s place over his eye. Small silver jewelry were placed on his clothes, ear, and wing. Lastly a bowler hat flouted above his hair.

He sighed with relief and stretched slightly. “Yes…perfect. I feel whole again~”

“You look like a Magical girl transforming.” You chuckled.

He looked back at you before waving his wand at you. Suddenly, there was a flash of light, smoke surrounded you, and your clothes changed into a vampire themed Magical girl outfit. Short skirt, a cape, even little bat wings on your head. Your costume was also adorned in silver jewelry and mirrored Anti-Cosmo’s black and blue.

“There, now we match.” He smirked.

You tried to pull the skirt down to cover your legs. “What the *Beep*?!” you yelled at him.

“What? You look cute~ oh yes, I have a wish to grant, be right back.” He grinned and vanished.

You huffed in irritation and immediately started stripping the cutesie outfit off. “What an *beep*!” you whispered angrily. “I thought he was awful before the wand…”

Part 3

[saltiestdemonloves]

Soft lips on your neck, carelessly nipping and sucking. You exhale shakily, hands gripping onto his denim jeans in dear life. He laughs, it was a soft puff of warm air on your sensitive skin and you squirm. Laughing again, he pulls away, even in the dark you could see his piercing blue eyes.

“Billy,” you sigh as his hand massages into your thigh. It moved up and down slowly, dragging across your pants that you desperately wished weren’t there. As if he were reading your mind, he sits up and holds himself above you. His hand moves from your thigh to your pants waistband and pulls firmly. Getting the clue, your hips lift automatically and he pulls again. They come off easier and slowly, excruciatingly slowly.

You become impatient. “Billy,” you whine.

His hand movements pause and you bite your lip, looking up at him sheepishly. His brow was raised and he held a stern expression. “What did we talk about?”

You push yourself back into his pillows, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” He turns his ear towards you and leans down.

“I-I’m sorry, Billy.”

He exhales softly, head shaking, his pretty ringlets crowing his face as he looks at you. For a moment, you think he’s going to be mad but the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to the edge of your lips and then resumes his action of pulling down your jeans.

Before the fun could resume, you both hear a car pulling up to the driveway. Both you and Billy freeze and he looks up, eyes wide.

You look in the direction of the sound, “Uh, w-when were your parents supposed to be home?”

He reaches for his clock and checks the time before muttering, “Shit! Not for another two hours.”

Suddenly, you’re being handled like a doll. He picks you up and then makes you stand up. Your jeans are shoved back on and your shirt tossed at you. Barely you catch it before he’s shoving you out the door and across the hall. “You’re staying over to help Max with her math.”

“R-Right.”

“Hey! No way am I-” Max starts to protest before Billy makes a noise that very clearly meant shut it. He backs out and slams Max’s door shut before you hear his own do the same.

Shakily, you pull your shit on. “I’m sorry, Max. If I knew your parents were coming home I would have invited Billy over to my place instead.”

She glares at me angrily over her comic book before scoffing, “Whatever. It’s not like I’m ever going to see you again.” She sighs, “Better think of some excuse as to why it doesn’t look like we studied at all, Mom and Neil always do a room check once their home.”

Grimacing, you look around the room for some alibi. You see Max’s backpack and lunge for it, opening it and digging out for a book. Any book. Thank God she actually had her math book with her. You snatch it, hop on her bed, and open to a page filled with loose-leaf paper.

Just as you start to catch your breath, the door handle jiggles before pulling open to reveal Max’s mother. You and Max both look up to smile, she stands back, looking surprised.

“Oh, hello! Who are you?”

“I’m Y/n. I came over to help her study? I hope that’s alright.”

Max’s mother looks at her daughter for confirmation, Max reluctantly nods and forces a smile. “Yeah, but we’re just finishing up, aren’t we, Y/n?”

Sighing softly, you nod and close the book, setting it down on her bed. “Yeah, your daughter’s pretty smart. Just a few equations and she was set.”

Her mother beams a parent’s proud smile and rests her hand on her chest, “Well, I’m so glad to hear.” She looks over at Max and asks, “Did you guys already have dinner?”

Shaking her head, Max answers, “No, not yet.”

“Well, I can whip something up real quick for you guys. Dad and I had dinner out so we’ve already eaten. Y/n do you want me to fix you up something?”

Shaking your head quickly, you stand, “No, no, you don’t need to worry about me. I should be heading home anyways.”

“Nonsense, I don’t mind at all. You just stay here with Max and I’ll fix up some mac-n-cheese and chicken tenders, how about it?”

“Sounds... good,” you say with a pained smile. She grins, none the wiser, and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. You exhale a sigh of relief and rub your forehead before turning to Max. “Thank you.”

She just rolls her eyes.

“Actually, I was looking at your math and... do you need help? It looks like you’re struggling a little bit.”

“No.”

Holding your hands up you shrug, “Alright, alright. I could... write down all the answers with the work and you can copy it.” You watch with a smile as her eyes flick up to you and she slowly lowers the comic.

“Really?”

“Sure, haven’t any of Billy’s other girls offered payback?”

Max snorts and shakes her head, “No way. They’re in and out and what words are said between us aren’t that nice.”

“Oh,” you pout. “Well, I’m different. I won’t be mean, at least not intentionally.”

“So you’ll really do my homework for me?”

“Just this once,” You clarify. “If you really want my help, then I suggest you actually take me up on some tutoring sessions. I can leave you my number if you change your mind?”

“Okay...” she seems hesitant as if in any second you’d do something cruel. Instead, you give her a grin and ask her to find you a few pages of paper and a pencil.

You work pretty quickly, it was just above the standard stuff on difficulty. It was an easy enough thing to do for a senior. Once finished you hand of the paper, “There. That should cover it. I’d honestly try messing up a few so it doesn’t look too suspicious but that is up to you.”

“Thanks,” Max says, taking the page from you with glee.  She shoves it into a notebook on her nightstand.

“Billy, Max, Y/n, come eat!” You two hear. Grimacing, you both look at each other before standing and going for the door. You pause before reaching it, giving yourself a once over. Max comes up from behind you and pats your back.

“You look fine,” she says. “Billy’s always careful about evidence. Whatever that means.”

“...Thanks.”

She leads you through the hallway to the dinner table where her mom had placed three plates, already stacked with food.

“Wow, thanks, Mrs. Hargrove.”

“It’s my pleasure,” she says with a smile. “A way to pay back for helping out my Maxine.”

She pats Max’s cheek before giving you a kind smile. She joins her husband in the living room where he was watching t.v and reading the newspaper. 

Max sits at the end of the table, leaving you with the option of two plates beside each other. You choose the one closest to her and sit, picking up the fork awkwardly just as Billy makes his way into the dining room.

He’s silent, barely looks at you as he takes his seat. You wonder if he’s angry you didn’t find an excuse to leave. Or push harder to get out of here. You’re slowly shoveling the food that, while your mind was very distracted, tasted like nothing but mush.

Suddenly, you feel pressure on your knee and realize that Billy was squeezing it. Your chewing slows and you peek over at him to see that he wasn’t looking up at his food at all, chewing on a piece of chicken tender while staring into space.

You blink and turn your focus back to your food. Awfully conscious of the hand the was creeping ever slowly up your thigh. Your skin tingled, like electricity buzzing, your heart pulsing quickly, spreading it.

“So Y/n,” his voice came so suddenly you nearly jump out of your skin. You hate how on edge he makes you. “How did you get here?”

You pause a moment, glancing up to see their parents staring at you curiously. With a clear of your throat, you answer, thankfully without your voice giving yourself away, “I had a friend drop me off on the way.”

“How were you planning on getting back home?”

“W-Walking.”

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “That won’t do. How about I give you a ride now that our parents are home to keep an eye on Max hm?”

“That would be great,” you say softly.

Billy looks up to his dad, “Is that alright.”

It looks like he was going to say no for a moment before he hesitates, looks at his watch before sighing and nodding, “Yeah that’s fine.”

Turning back to you, Billy asks, “You wanna go after your done eating?”

“Yes, please.” You could barely get the words out as Billy’s hand inches closer and close up. 

His hand leaves all to suddenly and he grins, “Great.”

Everyone finishes their dinner quickly after that and Max is fast to vanish back into her bedroom. You carry your plate to their kitchen and make a move to start cleaning them when Billy’s hand sneak up behind you. Taking the plates before you can and setting them down on the counter.

He presses himself against you and pins you to the counter, whispering into your ear, “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just go.”

“Right.” You murmur.

You take a few seconds to thank the Hargroves for welcoming you into their home and for letting you eat before quickly slipping out behind Billy towards his car.

He stays silent as you both climb in and he starts the car. He’s even silent after we’re five minutes in.

“B-Billy?” You say anxiously. “Um, are you mad?”

He looks at you with a look of bewilderment, “What?”

“Well you’re just being really quiet and it’s making me nervous.”

“Oh,” he laughs. “No, just... just in my head, I guess.”

“Really, about what?”

“Nothing?” his shoulders shrug. “Just thinking about driving and whatever else. Why would you think I’m mad?”

“I don’t know. I guess whenever a guy I know has been mad at me they’ve given me the silent treatment.”

“Well, don’t worry. I’m not mad at you, no way. You’re an angel.”

Giggling, you give a satisfactory nod, “Good. And thank you.”

Billy chuckles before letting out an annoyed groan, “Can’t believe they came home so early though. I would have wanted to have some more fun.”

“Well...” you grin, “this weekend my parents are going to see my aunt for her baby shower and it’s an adult-only event. Wanna come over then?”

Billy’s smile widens and he gives you a toothy smile, winks, then nods, “It’s a date.”

[beckythesooh]

On the HIMYM Finale + Deleted Scenes (rewatch)

On my hate of Ted’s relapse in season 7:

Rewatching HIMYM and of course, I’m sad again at how much I loved it sans Ted’s suddenly thinking he’s in love with Robin again after Drunk Train. It pisses me off so much, and which there were comments on how it made sense because Ted was just so down on himself that he had stooped so low as to try to get girls on the train and be so far away from his goal—I would have believed that but the ensuing episodes definitely show this wasn’t the case. Drunk Train was season 7 episode 16. They broke up at the end of season 2 and only had a heart to heart about how difficult the break up was a few episodes later, and casual sex along with screaming and anger mid season 3. Never once in between does Ted actually like her again except when Barney wanted her and he read his letter—which I’ll account for as him being down and logically and/or nostalgically thinking they would work again, rather than current feelings. I would have wanted him to be depressed because being around happy people or people that he’s jealous of or something, because that’s relatable and understandable. But him being upset that Robin was marrying someone that wasn’t him when she never expressed being in romantic love with him for the past 6 years just makes me despise Ted. And I don’t despise him, but when I take a step back, that act makes me really hate him. And like.... Ross in Friends was a horrible human. I cannot vouch for him in that he wanted to be a good human—Ross thought he was a good human when he wasn’t. But Ted really did want to be a good human. And it upsets me that this is where the line is drawn, where he believes he deserves Robin more than Barney, more than anyone, when she never showed interest in him again.

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

A brief touch on my hate of Robin’s character in love:

I don’t hate Robin as a human or a character in general. But I severely hate how she was the writers’ ultimate princess on a pedestal and never thought about how she’s not a prize, but she needs to work for happiness. Never once does she work for any of her relationships. She’s incredibly selfish—and hey, that’s fine because I am and all humans are to a degree, but she’s not allowed to stay selfish and get any and every happy ending. That pisses me off to no end. I agree with the people that say Robin didn’t deserve Ted—but in reality, it was more that Ted deserved better. She never made any grand gesture for Ted or Barney when they both tried to give her anything and everything they had. I’m unsure if in any relationship she put herself on the line. I think after Don, she stopped. I think Don got the best of her, but Don didn’t quite treat her well. Kevin was the best match for her because he helped simmer her crazy and he could be a little crazier with her, but really she didn’t offer anything consciously.

She was unwilling to compromise in season 2, and she never changed throughout—she only revealed parts of her that she kept hidden. The writers made her sane and insane, kind and cruel, and every other paradox so she could fit into anything they wanted and seem rounded out even when she wasn’t. The writers kept her as this ideal girl and never understood that girls can have character development too. (Not that anyone besides Barney really had character development—which is also why everyone was rooting for him, not Ted.) The things she’d give up for Barney, she never cared about. The dogs she gave up for Ted in season 2 were her only attempt at dipping her toes in the water, but then the writers just never made her swim again (not that she should have given away her dogs for Ted). As the series progressed, it felt like she didn’t care about anything. That’s why she was consistently able to swing into a new relationship on the same day after a breakup. Because they made Robin sane enough, no one had to doubt her love and she never had to prove it. But now it all seems like a desperate girl who is afraid to be alone and has no idea what she wanted (continued in next section).

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

On the deleted Robin x Ted lunch finale scene in 2020 and how it impacts the ending:

Josh Radnor said he hoped the writers kept that in the finale because it showed that Ted wasn’t always pining for Robin when he was with Tracy, and that Robin loved and was thinking about Ted as much if not more. I agree with the first part, definitely not the latter.

Before I discuss how I interpreted that scene, here is how I interpret the two endings of HIMYM vs the ideals of the fans (from my perspective).

The ending where Tracy dies and Ted gets with Robin at the end:

Pros: 

The fan theory that maybe this is a happy ending because Tracy gets to be with Max in Heaven, Ted and Robin (and Ted got the kids he wanted and Robin got her career), and Barney and his daughter.

I guess the writers get to use their original footage, but like that doesn’t really warrant a number.

Cons: 

Like Josh Radnor said, it makes it seem like Ted was in love with Robin even when he was with Tracy.

Season 8 and 9 were a total bust and a LOT of the footage and most meaningful and dramatic scenes (absolutely EVERYTHING WITH TED) were a WASTE of viewer emotion. Like I legitimately regret giving any fucks about Ted’s emotions, that lying sonuvabitch.

If it is meant to be like Robin and Ted are soul mates and belong together, the ENTIRE SEASON 3-9 made the fans believe that either 1. NO THEY’RE NOT, or 2. soul mates are STUPID and a LIE and not as amazing as Lily and Marshall made it seem. And if not, then it perpetuates that soul mates aren’t a thing.

It makes it seem that if a guy pines after a girl enough, he’ll fucking get her eventually. No one on the face of at least Democratic America wants white guys to get that message, wtf.

By perpetuating Pro #1, it further makes Tracy to be a vehicle for Ted’s children and not really anything else. Kinda ties into Con #1.

The ending where Tracy is alive (actually this doesn’t matter to me) where Robin and Ted don’t get together at the end:

Pros:

The hope and dream and ideal that a soul mate (Tracy) exists at the end of the suffering—the thing that made Ted such a good protagonist—lives on. And is finally accomplished. And we can be happy for Ted, while believing in love and life ourselves. (This is the main fucking point, in contrast to Con #3 of the previous end.)

The reassurance that even if you think you’re in love now and it’s not working out, one day, you’ll GET THE FUCK OVER IT

The hope that all the love you give out will be reciprocated (this is different than #1 for me simply based on Tracy’s personality, rather than the fact that Ted ended up with someone that wasn’t Robin. Because Tracy was kind to him and wanted to make Ted happy. Robin never tried to make Ted happy, she just rolled with the punches.)

The fact that the drumroll, the build up, the suspense of the story led to actual grandeur and a happy end, and not a fake out like the other ending. (Different from the above because this is simply the storyline, and how this way wouldn’t be like a “haha, [the ending] was in front of you the entire time!”)

Cons:

No footage of the kids?

No non-sappy way to end that doesn’t make everyone hate the writers?

No reason why Ted is telling this story to his kids?

Like honestly, while sappy, there is no con to a happy ending

Now, let’s retrace the first betrayal ending with the dinner scene:

Pros:

Yes, it does look like Ted loved Tracy / didn’t pine after Robin in his head. And yes, this was something that killed everyone in the finale and thus was a big thing.

If Ted x Robin occurs, you still get the Pro #1 fan theory.

Cons:

It doesn’t look like Robin was in love with Ted even if she admits to thinking about him. It instead just looks like she regretted her life and selfishly wanted him because he treated her well, even when she never had any intention of giving him what he wanted. 

Also the awkward thing about Robin kinda trying to get him back when he has a family and alive wife at that point in time.

If this continued with the Robin x Ted thing, it doesn’t really make it seem that Ted was head over heels magically in love with Tracy during this time. His quote, “Happiness is when you stop thinking about the ifs,” would instead be interpreted as if he settled and didn’t want any risks. And, considering he met her after Robin was married, and had kids with her while Robin was still married, this would further incriminate that thought.  Happiness is not love, but the stability of knowing that this relationship... is stable. Ted, despite having cheated on Victoria when she was in Germany with Robin, has never struck me as a cheater. He has always struck me, even in the lowest and crappiest and sleaziest of times, as someone who wanted to treasure the people around him. The fact that he was unnerved by Robin’s confession because he had Tracy and his family did not feel to me that it was because he loved Tracy, but because it was stable, it was his, and he had stopped thinking about Robin when she wasn’t there.

If Ted x Robin get together still, a la Con #1, I cannot be happy for them. Why? What the writer showed us in the original is that Ted has always pined for Robin. This lunch scene was supposed to dispose of that. But, then, it becomes that Robin wants Ted and Ted is like “I always cared about her and it’s been 6 years and I’m lonely.” And yes, this is much better than the original betrayal ending. But it’s still not a happy ending. Ted gets with her because he’s lonely, not because she’s the “one” anymore. And no one cares about that (and it’ll always be overshadowed by the ANNOYANCE OF TED IN SEASON 8-9). Robin gets together with Ted because she’s lonely, regrets many things in her life, and she knows Ted would treat her well (despite never self-reflecting that she doesn’t offer him anything because he always blindly accepted everything about her). That’s not a happy ending, nor an ending worth giving my feelings for, though admittedly more satisfactory than the original.

Overall, the show is supposed to be about how he meets the mother. How he meets his wife. How he falls in love with her. The audience is wanting to watch him fall in love. And after so many seasons of him being alone, the build up becomes grander. We want to believe that at the end of the tunnel is salvation. That this relatable, kind character will be blessed with happiness and love equal or greater to what he’s given. We like the character, and we want him to be happy. And he was never happy pining after Robin. We want to relate to his struggles, but we want him to be rewarded. We want to believe we too will be rewarded. The original ending didn’t do that. I can’t understand how anyone doesn’t understand the backlash after properly watching the show (and being a sane romantic, which should be the prime audience of this show).

So no, I will never forgive that ending.

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

And just because I’m ranting,

On what I think about Robin and Barney.

I honestly don’t care if they stayed married or not. Married doesn’t solve problems between a couple. I don’t like them getting divorced from a conservative perspective, but I also don’t see them doing well in the construct of marriage (which also goes for Robin and Ted, but Robin was always portrayed as sane when with Ted. Though really, she would suck at marriage and kids. When she was with Ted, it was literally just sex. And her being his roommate showed that all non-lust side was incompatible. But I digress).

But, I dislike that the finale gave Barney a daughter as a band-aid and made it seem all right.

I can imagine Robin and Barney always fighting. I can imagine it going as far as a divorce. But I can’t imagine it getting to a point where Barney stops trying and stops caring. Because he tried throughout the seasons and he couldn’t. Why, when he gets her, would he stop. Robin never tried, and I can see her falling out of love because she’s incapable of loving (at least for everyone after Don), only of accepting love and using them as a crutch. But Barney really tried and season 8 showed it in tangible measures. While I understand that a one-way street will eventually reach a dead-end (actually I don’t think that’s true, but for the sake of a lack of a better metaphor), the fact that at that point Robin didn’t step it up makes me hate any ending that would end up with her and Ted even more. Yes, Barney was a pig. But he was able to win over the audience into making us believe that he is capable of loving someone. And Robin never did.

I can imagine Barney giving Robin space if she asked, which includes the divorce. But to try to convince us, the audience, into believing that he stopped loving her and stopped showing it in his side glances and gentle grins pisses me the fuck off. I don’t need them married, I don’t need them constantly together. But they’re a couple where I trust Barney to keep going back to as home.

Also that daughter thing—while cute in theory, Barney had an episode about his previous wing bro having knocked up a girl and being a father and it destroying his personality. I can really only imagine this as being how it winds up. I do think Barney would be a good father. And I do think that if Barney is with Robin, he would not have that chance. But I also think that Barney would always love Robin more than enough to be willing to give that up. Unlike Ted, I believe Barney if he said he’d be willing to give it all up without regretting it for the rest of his life. I hate that Barney wasn’t allowed to remain the metamorphosed character at the end of all of his character development. They had to revert all the things to give him a daughter. They didn’t even give him some sort of back story to how the hell he could fuck up the protection when he had sex with over 200 girls without issues. Yeah I’m salty about the shitty and inconsistent writing/storytelling.

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

On whether I care if Tracy dies:

Not too much, because I understand that things happen. It does make me sad if we are made to think she and Ted are soulmates, only for her to die early. While I do agree that her early death and making Max her soul mate does sound cute, I refuse to believe for eternity that Robin was Ted’s soul mate, so leaving Ted without a soul mate would also piss me off about this story and basically Ted would be equivalent as Barney knocking up someone, but with a nanny that happens to be the mother of the children. So the answer is no because then we need to destroy the concept of soul mates. So this is why I would like Tracy to live, though I’m not mad at her dying.

Obviously from a storytelling perspective, it would be weird for Ted to tell his kids his whole dating history just to finally skim through his meeting with the mother and she is still alive. But really we gave no shits about why Ted was discussing all these pointless things to his kids, so that continuity isn’t needed if it destroys our hopes and ideals.

If she’s alive, it makes more sense for Ted to talk about the courtship with the mother. If she’s dead, the only reason for him to discuss all his courtships with all the other women would be..... well, in theory it makes sense to show that he’s always loved Robin, too bad that didn’t properly translate in the actual show post season 3 (like really, Robin would have needed to interfere in every relationship Ted had for it to be relevant to the betrayal ending, but that stopped after Stella and there would need to be a time skip to Victoria with inbetweens of Barney x Robin, but ultimately most of Robin’s love life could be omitted. Seriously, if that was the reason Ted was telling the story, then his storytelling skills are shit and he should be at least 65 and retired because his mind is going). And to tell the story just to be like  “I wanna date again” is also nonsense. Basically, all routes are nonsense. Shoulda just scrapped the purpose of Ted telling his sordid past into just him telling a story. Also, getting the kid actors as adults is still hilarious so I think people wouldn’t mind the kids’ continuity over a better ending. 

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, ART! You’ve been accepted for the role of EDMUND with an approved FC change to Max Irons. Admin Minnie: I knew this was a winner while reading your plots Art, but it was your para sample that really left me speechless. The way you showed us how he had suffered and how he had ached, all that bitterness and resentment and ambition and pride... it was so clear how deep your love for Edmund goes. I am thrilled to see someone with such an intimate, intense grasp on Easton’s soul. Please stay forever, and please ruin us for the rest of your life! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Art

Age | 19

Preferred Pronouns | He/him

Activity Level | Well here’s the thing about quarantine. I will be spending the next two-three months in a house, all day, every day, with consistent access to a laptop. I also lost my job and because the US economy is a flaming pile of garbagé, I don’t imagine getting another any time soon, especially since all my skills are in food. All this to say, I believe I will be incredibly active, outside of my Skype’d classes and grocery runs and whatnot.

Timezone | MST

How did you find the rp?  | A discord friend DM’d it to me after I went on a rant about Edmund and the layers to his “Thou, Nature, art my Goddess” soliloquy. They know me so well, and acceptances were literally in like six hours from when I got the link, so I sat my butt down, put down my real-world obligations for a moment, and typed this whole thing out like I was writing an unstarted essay due at midnight.

Current/Past RP Accounts | All my old RP writing is from years ago and is, frankly, really really bad. Thank you for making this optional.

IN CHARACTER

Character | Edmund or Easton Craven. I love Daniel Sharman’s wonderful, gorgeous face with my whole heart (hello gay awakening), but I’d like to use Max Irons instead, if at all possible.

What drew you to this character? | So, my love of Easton/Edmund actually began about a year ago, when I cut my hair and started playing around with names and different clothes. I was in a Shakespeare class at my college, and it was a requirement that we perform a monologue. It didn’t need to be Broadway-worthy, we just needed to deliver it, and we could do this as often as we liked. I performed two. One from a play we had read and analyzed, as my professor asked, and I did another. That second one was Edmund’s “Thou, Nature” soliloquy. It was the first time I performed as a guy to an audience that thought I was a guy, not a girl playing dress up. So I have a really strong emotional connection to Edmund, regardless of the form he’s in.

I was really excited by this particular version of him, however, because I thought it played right along the line of a monstrous asshole and charming young man doing what he can to deal with the hand dealt to him. He’s both of those things, to me, and I really enjoyed that you brought that forward. Edmund, from the source, reminds me of Chris Evans’ character from Knives Out, in a way? Completely self-motivated, selfish and cruel, and yet really fun and charming, as long as it isn’t you he’s screwing over at the time. I know he isn’t that character and I’m honestly really glad for it. I just found a similarity there.

I just really like those kinds of characters in fiction, and that, combined with my emotional ties and vague debt to the source character, meant I arrived and started writing as fast as I could.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

These are all ideas, nothing here is set in stone, and are entirely dependent on the beauty of the other writers free will.

Some Twelve or Fourteen Moonshines Lag of a Brother: From the get-go of this awful experience known as the human existence, Easton has existed just slightly behind Everett, just enough to keep the guy freezing in the shadows. It’s the last name, the mannerisms, and the goddamn eyes that sit in his skull. It is a truth, acknowledged by both me and him, that there is an association to Easton he really wishes wasn’t there. This is why I want someone to look at Easton and see Easton, not a Craven.

Now, I want to pause here, and say that Easton is a lying snake of a man that would and probably will sell out his own family for one corn chip. He is completely self-centered, convinced of his superiority, and willing to bleed the world dry to get the pound of flesh he is owed. I want someone to see this, to realize there is a snake curled around the Capulet’s necks, willing to bite and kill every single one of them if it means he gets to sit comfortably on a throne of gold and bones. Because that is what he wants, he wants the world to pay for every second of misery he endured in his life. But he is charming, slippery in the way only the truly awful can be. He’s accepted the labels thrown at him and become them, which is its own kind of armor. Who doesn’t love a bad boy?

But beyond all that, he is rotten through and through. I’d like his armor to crack and reveal the duplicity underneath, maybe around someone like Maeve or Catherine, someone that might not be believed right away. I love the idea of Easton being the wolf among some very dangerous sheep, but the really, truly awful ones not realizing. This could produce a really fun dance, where the two parties involved both try really really hard to overthrow or remove the other from their position while still trying really hard to maintain a veil of normality.

But that dance is what makes this all so terribly fun. They’re on a rock, doomed to eventually die, and Easton wants his power, but why can’t he play a few games while trying to get it?

I Grow, I Prosper: Easton, poor guy, was brought into the world and then spent the next twenty-six years being told his existence and all the things that came with it were his fault. They weren’t, or at least they weren’t in the way he had been told his entire life. He has learned to move past the label of “bastard” or “illegitimate”, meeting all such claims with the certainty that he must act the part. But does his position fulfill him? Does his current lot in life spark joy? I think not! He is a captain, yes, but so is his brother. He is, at best, on equal footing with his brother and at worst, he is the younger brother desperately following behind Everett as a living shadow yet again. Easton needs to be more than Everett. He’s wanted this his entire life. The whole city needs to look at Easton and see him, not his brother, and then Easton wants to rub it in Everett’s face, lord it over him for the next century at the shortest. That is the general idea behind this plot: Everett surpassing and overcoming his brother. The fact that he’d end up lording over so many others is really just a plus!

This plot would require effort. Loads and LOADS of plotting and communication on my part, and a whole lot of cutthroat, stepping-on-literally-everyone-else-in-Verona from Easton. He is going to have to exploit the hell out of Celeste and the information she can get him, potentially leading to her downfall just so Easton can succeed. He will need Rafaella and Tiberius to trust him almost unconditionally, which, just from what I’ve seen poking around the main, seems pretty much impossible. And of course, he has to successfully and continually one-up Everett, which might be the hardest job of all, given the whole awful tangle of EmotionsTM that Easton has towards him. It’s hard for him to be clear-headed when he wants to tear Everett into little tiny pieces with his bare hands.

But hey, that is, again, the whole point of this plot: the destruction of the legitimate son. Eliminating the sun so the moon can rule 24/7.

My Services are Bound: No matter how ambitious, how desperate Easton is to rule the world, he doesn’t yet. He works for the Capulets and he is a tool used to further the wishes of those above him in this terribly illegal food chain where dog eats dog. No matter how much Easton wishes it was different, it isn’t, at least not at the moment, and he must bide his time until something better happens.

Yes, Easton is a tool, and I want him to be reminded of that. He has the ambition to rule the world, can picture himself with a crown he may never hold, but he is a knight on the chessboard. I want his ego to be checked, I want him to be taken down at the knees and reminded of the situation he is in, who he works for. Now, ideally, this would come from the Capulet family themselves and not a rogue Montague or something.

The Capulet family, in order to win this war they’ve found themselves in, need their tools to be obedient and ready to deploy at a moment’s notice. This is not the case with Easton. He’s a rebellious man, more loyal to himself than any of the lofty ideas the Capulet heads have surrounded themselves with. So the family he serves would need to get Easton back in line, somehow. They’d need to remind him who he is and whom he serves no matter what it took and use whatever tools at their disposal. This could potentially happen after Easton completely blows off a mission he was handed to advance his own agendas, which I think would probably be the best choice as it would probably send these awful shrieking sirens off in the Capulets.

I want this particular plot because Easton is so assured that he will be able to make the world pay and yet he’s just one man against so very many others.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Oh most definitely. As a writer, I am a firm believer in conditional happy endings, probably because I play so many video games. In order to get a happy ending, in order to survive, the character has to do all the right things. The likelihood of Easton doing all the right things is just tiny, absolutely microscopic.  

IN DEPTH

I was going to do both, but I’m running out of time so…

In-Character Para Sample:

There is something beautiful in standing alone, where there are no silent reminders of how Easton arrived in this world, how he stepped into it screaming and no one cared to change that. There were no side-eyes, reminding him of how unwanted he was, how utterly unworthy he was to bear the name “Craven”. No hands hiding giggles at the boy his mother ran from and his father hid away. Here, under the bowed ceiling in the transept of the Capulet’s cathedral, there was only him and God.

“I hope,” Easton began, fingers lightly running across the back of a pew likely not used for praying, “that you know what is coming.” The eyes that proclaim a taint to his family’s name were raised to dance across the ceiling. “If word is to be believed, you, an old man in the sky, a Father,” he spat out, “brought me here. Placed me here upon this Earth to do whatever it is I so wish.” A smile, small and dangerous with heavy promises was birthed on his face, an expression that could not have been more familiar to his muscles. “I suppose that’s all a father has ever done for me. Perhaps,” he mused, lightly tapping his chin as he continued to wander aimlessly among the seats of a flock absent. “Perhaps I should be grateful that both You and him are both so delightfully hands-off.”

“I suppose this rock is where You chose to put all Your bastards, isn’t it? Shoved them away from Your kingdom, making them fight for their place in Your home despite them all being Your children?” The noise that escaped Easton’s mouth was not fit for the place he stood in, but it hardly seemed to matter to him as he collapsed into a pew, feet raised to rest on a Bible, feet that had stood in a man’s blood not hours before. “I suppose that must be how it is, because we’re all made in Your image, aren’t we? And that man had to learn it from somewhere.”

His head fell back, eyes closed to the beauty above him in a silent condemnation for Who it was built for. “You’ve released yet another snake into your garden by making that woman my mother and handing me the Craven name, you know.” The observation was quiet, laced with the bitterness of cyanide, perfected over years of similar declarations. The words were familiar, not on his tongue but rather to his mind, the idea similar to ones he had kept close for years.“I have crawled in the dirt on my stomach for too long because of You, and I shall take a throne and dare You to steal it from me.”

He inhaled, once, a desperate attempt to calm the words he could feel rising like acid in his throat. It didn’t work, though Easton didn’t try very hard. He rarely did when alone. “I am owed this, you miserable old bastard,” he hissed out from behind his teeth, sounding like the snake he had just claimed to be. “I will take everything because this is Your fault, and I will make your precious sheep pay for every inch of Your mistake. It’s mine, I deserve it.” A hand was clenched into a fist in his lap and Easton shifted forward, only to slam it into the wood of the pew ahead of him. “It’s mine.”

He stood suddenly, coat rising around him like smoke rising around a fire, warning the world of the danger just over there. Turning on his heel, he left the cathedral without a look back, without a fear of God. And though there had been no one around, the air hung heavy with a question. Just which father had he been addressing?

Extras: If you have anything else you’d like to include (further headcanons, an inspo tag, a mock blog, etc), feel free to share it here! This is OPTIONAL.

I submitted this through an Easton mock blog! There was going to be stuff there but my laptop crashed and I need to eat dinner!

[winterisakillerwrites]

Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Four

Chapter: 4/19

Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.

Rating: M

Author’s Notes/Warnings:  This is part nine of Last Minutes & Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff​ for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

Previous

CHAPTER FOUR

  Rosemary cracked her eyes open, squinting in the bright sunlight that had flooded the room. It took several minutes for her to shake the disorientation of sleep off enough to recognize the familiar cluttered mess of Jules’ living room. She sat up and immediately regretted such hasty action. Her vision swam and it felt as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to her temples. Repeatedly. “Oh God,” she croaked and winced at the grating sound of her own voice. “Kill me now.”

 A pained groan sounded from somewhere near the couch. Jules. Rosemary took a perverse sort of pleasure knowing that she wasn’t the only one feeling much like death warmed over. God, they had sorely overdone it.

 “Only if you kill me first.” Jules’ voice was muffled by several layers of blanket that, in any other circumstance, would have been utterly hysterical.

 “Not quite how that works.”

 She fumbled feebly for her purse, seeking the blessed paracetamol she kept stored there. And water. God, she needed water. But water was in the kitchen. Going to the kitchen involved standing. Standing was something she knew she absolutely did not want to do. She silently cheered as her fingers clutched around the small, plastic bottle and pulled it from her bag. Step one, complete. Now came the hard part.

 Gritting her teeth, Rosemary struggled to pull herself first onto her knees and then slowly, so so slowly, to her feet. The world only faded in and out of focus for a few moments and once it settled, she steeled herself for the harrowing journey towards the kitchen. I am never drinking again.

 One cautious step and then another. Slowly, she stumbled into the kitchen, blatantly ignoring the switch for the overhead light. She very much doubted she could handle the bright flickering of fluorescent lighting at this point. The kitchen was dim, the lighting from the hall providing enough illumination for Rosemary to locate and grab a glass from the cabinet above the sink. She hesitated for a moment before grabbing another and shutting the cabinet door. If she was in desperate need of water than no doubt so was Jules.

 Two glasses full of cool tap water, Rosemary made her way back into the living room. She paused at the lump of blankets on the couch. “Water,” She intoned before setting the glass onto the wooden top of the coffee table. A pale arm poked its way out from beneath the covers and the voice underneath mumbled thanks.

 Rosemary laughed, wincing at the pain it caused. Right. Paracetamol. She needed paracetamol and now. She grabbed the pill bottle she’d placed on the table and deftly popped its lid, pouring two tablets into her hand. She washed them down with water and walked back towards Jules’ prone form.

 “Here,” she stated, dropping the bottle on top of the blankets.

 Jules pulled the covers off her head, grimacing at the brightness. “Please tell me you threw paracetamol at me. Because if you tossed a packet of gum on me I will kill you.” She attempted to glare at Rosemary but the effect was diminished by her overall look of pained confusion.

 “You’d have to catch me first, sunshine, and in such a state I think I can outrun you, hangover or no.” Rosemary smirked, taking pity on her pathetic friend, grabbed the bottle and thrust it into Jules’ outstretched hand.

 “Bless you.”

 “I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart,” Rosemary quipped, “You are a bloody bitch when you’re hungover and I can only deal with one of those at a time.”

 Jules only response was a raised middle finger.

 Rosemary cocked an eyebrow, laughed, and then grimaced as another stab of pain flooded her temples.  She slowly lowered herself back onto her makeshift bed on the floor and grabbed the glass she’d left on the edge of the table. She quickly downed the rest of her water and closed her eyes, praying that the medication would kick in soon. It would be nice to not feel like her head was going to explode at any moment.

                                                         ___

  She awoke again several hours later feeling marginally more human. Pushing herself up she made a quick dash to the bathroom and then back into the kitchen for more water. She found Jules there, sitting on one of the bar stools, sipping a still steaming mug of coffee.

 “Is there any more of that?” Jules nodded at the French press on the counter and Rosemary wasted no time grabbing her own mug. “I know I should stick with water right now, but fuck me if I actually care at the moment.”

 Jules snorted into her mug. “Same.”

 Blessed caffeine flooded her system and she felt almost human again. She cocked her head at her friend. “What time is it?”

 “Time for you to invest in a watch.”

 Rosemary rolled her eyes, “Ha, very funny. Your wit astounds me.”

 Jules smirked, “I do my best.” She took another sip of coffee. “Half one I think.”

 Had she not placed her mug on the counter it would have fallen from her hands and clattered to the floor. “What?” she breathed.

 Fucking hell. Fucking, fucking, FUCKING hell!

 She dashed back into the living room. She heard Jules splutter after her, but paid it little mind. Dropping to her knees, she grabbed her bag from the floor and tore through it searching desperately for her phone. She had to call the store, had to make sure everything was alright. Max and Hanna were there by themselves. Yes, she had trained them and she knew they knew what they were doing; but fucking hell she was supposed to be at the shop until things got firmly settled.

 But the damned thing wasn’t there. She cursed aloud, dumping the contents onto the floor and shifting through them. Maybe she’d missed it.

 No, it wasn’t there. She let out a groan of frustration. Come on, Mathews, think! Had she used her phone after she’d left the shop that evening? She had a half hazy memory of holding her phone…By the couch!

 Rosemary jumped up and darted for the couch. She finally found it hidden underneath one of the couch cushions. How it had gotten there she didn’t know. But she’d found it.  She made quick work of unlocking the screen. She opened the dial screen then the ‘recent calls’ log; half fearing she’d missed their call. She let her eyes fall to the screen and nearly dropped her phone. rly seen and understood the toll it had taken on him. All thought of the store and of Max and Hanna flew from her mind.

 Oh no! No. No. No.  Please, god, no.

 She stared at the ‘recent calls’ log in abject horror. Tom’s name was there. Why the fuck was his name there? And at two in the morning? The log listed the call as lasting nearly fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes? Oh dear god in heaven…

 A cold dread settled in her stomach. What the fuck had she done?

 “Please god, Jules, tell me you didn’t let me call Tom last night…” Her voice shook with both fear and humiliation. Of all the stupid fucking things…

 Jules stood in the doorway of the kitchen with her arms crossed at her chest, momentary confusion clouded her features. “What?”

 Rosemary paced the living room, hands clenched at her sides, mind racing. “Tom. I called Tom last night…Or well this morning. Why did I do that?” She groaned and covered her face with her hands.

 “Because he’s a tit,” Jules retorted, matter of fact.

 Rosemary flushed in anger, “But that doesn’t mean I need to call him pissed out of my mind and tell him that now do I?”

 Jules shrugged her shoulders and chuckled. “To be fair, I didn’t think you’d actually do that. You know that anything I say after a bottle and a half of wine is not to be trusted…”

 “SOBER me knows that!” Rosemary hissed back, cutting Jules off. “But drunk me apparently can’t be fucking trusted.”

 Snippets of conversation flashed in her mind. Her own angry voice slinging accusations and Tom’s confused and hurt replies. She felt her chest tighten as she fought to breathe. If she’d said half the things she thought she had…She shut her eyes tightly, trying to quell the panic that was roiling inside her.

 Not good. Very, very not good.

  “You okay?”

 “No.” She shook her head and slumped onto the couch, cradling her head in her hands. She heard Jules’s light footsteps and then felt the couch dip under her weight as Jules settled beside her.

“It’ll be alright,” Jules reassured as she wrapped an arm around Rosemary’s shoulders, squeezing them gently. “So you told him off, it’s not like he didn’t deserve it.”

 Rosemary snapped her head up. “You don’t get it, Jules. What I said…Or think I said, I can’t remember for sure…Jules, I had no right. None!”

 She took a deep, trying to calm herself. It was little use. Her brain refused to be silent; fragments of her words, hazy and disjointed echoed loudly.

 ‘Arrogant, self-righteous bastard…’

 ‘…No wonder you can’t get your shit together.’

 ‘What I ever saw in you…’

 Rosemary shook her head, trying to clear the words and the rising sense of shame they brought. She’d been callous and cruel and the worst part was she couldn’t remember half of it. She was certain she was about to be sick. Head between your legs, the belated thought skittered across her mind. Put your head between your legs and breathe.

 So she did.

 And slowly the panic began to recede and she could breathe without gasping. Belatedly, she felt Jules stand and heard her steps as she shuffled from the room. And then she was alone.

 She found herself staring at the phone she’d dropped onto the coffee table. It sat there, inert and seemingly harmless. Without conscious thought she bent and picked it up, turning the screen on with a few taps of her fingers. Her hands shook as she stared at his name in her contacts list.

 All of the anger and uncertainty of the day before had faded. She hadn’t forgotten what he had done and how it had hurt her but it didn’t seem nearly as important. All she wanted was to fix this. To fix the shaky truce they had at least been trying to build. To heal the hurt she caused. But actually reaching out and doing so terrified her beyond words.

 But if I don’t try…

 Rosemary took a steadying breath and with shaking hands hit dial.  

 The phone rang once, then twice. And then a click and the line disconnected. Her heart sunk like a stone in her chest as she realized what had happened with a sick and certain dread. He’d hung up on her. She couldn’t blame him; not in the slightest. Hell, she would have hung up on her too. Guilt gnawed in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know what to do. She could feel the desperate panic of uncertainty roaring its ugly head.

 Just try again, her brain urged. You need to try.

 With determination Rosemary redialed and held her breath. Three rings this time. Her mind whirled. She had no idea what she should say, or even could say, but knowing she had to say something regardless. Knowing that she had to try to apologize, to fix the mess she’d unleashed. There was a pause and then his voicemail kicked in.

 “Tom...it…it’s Rosie. I know you probably…” She halted and tried to gather her thoughts. “There is so much I need to…I’m sorry. Please, just call me back. Please.” She hung up quickly, and let out a shuddering breath. This was not the sort of conversation she could have with his voicemail. Doing so would lead to more confusion and the real, and terrifying, risk of further pain and misunderstanding. She needed to talk to him and he wouldn’t talk to her. She didn’t know what to do.

 Rosemary closed her eyes and tried to think. Panic and indecision whirled within her. What could she do? How could she get him to answer the phone and let her explain; let her apologize? She didn’t have the first idea but she couldn’t sit back and do nothing.

 Without a word, she shoved her scattered belongings back into her purse and grabbed her coat from where she had tossed it the night before. She needed to think and she couldn’t do that here. She called a farewell to Jules and shivered as she stepped into the weak sunlight of the late winter afternoon.

 The wind was brisk as she sped her way towards the Underground station a few blocks from Jules’ door. She pulled her coat tightly against her and joined the queue down the escalator and into the station. She boarded the next train, still lost in her thoughts and it wasn’t until she looked up and realized that her change point was two stops back that she fully came back to herself.

 “Shit,” she muttered under her breath. Nothing for it but to get off at the next station and switch trains there. But the next stop came and went and she remained on the train. She didn’t think about what she was doing until she saw a familiar station come into sight.

 Rosemary stood and exited the carriage with cautious determination. If he wouldn’t answer when she called then she would go to him.

                                                        ___

  Rosemary pressed the buzzer on the black metal gate before shoving her hands back into the pockets of her coat. It was absolutely freezing and she resisted the urge to hop from foot to foot to keep warm. As she stood, her mind flashed back to the last time she’d stood here and the uncertainty and dread she’d felt then. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

 She jumped as Tom’s garbled voice came over the speaker above the buzzer. “What?”

 “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see, but please I need to talk to you. Just give me ten minutes of your time. Please.” Her voice shook at the very real possibility that he wouldn’t open the door. She put on a brave face, if he didn’t then it would be nothing less than she deserved.

 Several minutes of silence passed. Rosemary blinked back tears and prepared herself to walk away. The clink of the gate unlocking stunned her into immobility momentarily. She blinked for several seconds before pulling it open and walking towards the front door, heart pounding in her chest.

 Tom stood in the doorway, blue eyes cold and sharp as steel, his arms crossed defensively across his chest. This was such a far cry from the warm and caring man she’d known. He stepped aside without a word and she made her way into the warmth of the entry way. Her eyes darted around the hallway, taking in the familiar simplicity of his home. She was heartened to see that despite the years, nothing much had changed. Tom still hadn’t spoken and she fought to maintain a steady grip on her emotions. He’d let her in. That was something.

 Without a word, she made her way quickly into the living room. Again, she was heartened to see the familiar walls of books and simple but comfortable furniture. She felt rather than saw Tom follow behind her. His silent presence was unnerving and she fought the urge to turn tail and run. She refused to be a coward.

 They settled; her on the chair near the window and him on the sofa several feet away. Neither spoke. The silence in the room was near deafening and Rosemary wanted nothing more than for it to break. But Tom wasn’t talking and she feared that if left to his own devices, he wouldn’t say another word to her.

 Rosemary could feel his eyes boring into her and she fought to keep herself from flinching. She took a deep breath and braced her hands on her knees, trying desperately to think of where to start, what she could possibly say. The truth, her mind screamed. Tell him the truth. You owe him that at the very least.

 “Tom, I just…I don’t…” She stumbled over her thoughts and had to stop to gather herself before trying again. “God, Tom,” she whispered, dropping her head into her hands. She could feel his eyes on her and the words nearly stuck in her throat. Still she pushed onward, needing to apologize even though she knew there was little chance she could. “I am so so sorry for last night. I was completely out of my head. I shouldn’t have said that. I had no right to…”

 “Which part?” He asked cutting her off. His voice was level but she could detect the hint of underlying tension as he seemed to struggle in vain to contain himself. “The part where you called me ‘an arrogant, self-centered, selfish, prick of a bastard’ or when you said that I only date blonde, dimwitted pop stars and Hollywood starlets because they are the only ones who can put up with my ‘massive ego’ and ‘desperate need to be a media whore’? I’m paraphrasing here, mind you, but I think I got the gist of it.”

 Rosemary squeezed her eyes shut. That summer had always been a sore spot for Tom and she’d known it. He rarely, if ever, talked of it but when he had she had clearly seen and understood the toll it had taken on him. Throwing that in his face had been nothing short of cruel.

 She’d never felt so wretched in her entire life. He’d hurt her, yes. God had he hurt her. But he’d never done so intentionally. He’d been misguided and selfish, but he’d never set out with the intent to cause her pain. She had. She’d wanted him to hurt like she’d hurt so she used the one thing she knew without a doubt would leave him bleeding.

 “All if it.” The words were barely a whisper and with great effort she raised her head and met his gaze. “I know it’s too little too late but I am so, so sorry. I had no right to throw any of that at you. It’s not true and I had absolutely no right to say it. I wish I could take it back. I wish I’d never said it in the first place.” Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks and she wiped them away as quickly as she could. She didn’t have the right to be upset. Not at this. She wasn’t the injured party in this and she damn well knew it.

 Tom sat in stony silence, his eyes burning with hurt and fury as he stared first at her and then at the table before him. She tried to ignore the shiver of unease his gaze sent up her spine. She wished he would speak, would say something, anything.

 “Well you did say it and you can’t take it back. That’s the funny thing about words, whether your intent is to help or harm, once they’re out there, you can’t take them back.”

 Rosemary drew a shuddering breath and fought to regain her composure. He was right, of course. She’d known it from the second she’d realized just what she had done. And she couldn’t change it. “I know that, I do. But that doesn’t mean I don’t wish it weren’t the case.” She paused, taking another deep breath and gathering herself once more. “I was drunk and angry and I wanted to hurt you. It’s not an excuse, I don’t have any excuse for lashing out at you. But I did and it was wrong. So very wrong of me. I know that that doesn’t fix or solve anything, but I am so dreadfully sorry.”

 It was Tom’s turn to breathe deeply. His eyes drifted closed for a moment and his face clenched then relaxed. “I know you’re sorry, Rosemary, but right now that is simply not enough.” He paused again, resting his hands on his knees. “I get that I hurt you and that I’ve been a selfish, cowardly prick but you took it too far and I can’t deal with that. Not now.” He scrubbed his jaw with his left hand. “I think I’d like you to go now.”

 She flinched as if struck but quickly gathered herself and nodded silently. Fair enough, she thought. That is bloody fair enough. Without another word she grabbed her purse from the floor beside her chair and walked quietly out of the house.

Next

[fiinalgiirls]

GENERAL INFORMATION.

FULL NAME - genevieve sloane channing NICKNAMES - neve GENDER / PRONOUNS - she/her DATE OF BIRTH - february 12, 1988 PLACE OF BIRTH - portland, oregon CITIZENSHIP / ETHNICITY - united states american; irish, scottish, welsh RELIGION - atheist / agnostic SOCIOECONOMIC STATUS / POLITICAL AFFILIATION - grew up very low socioeconomic status in ne portland, before the gentrification, but is now considered middle class due to her nurse’s salary. she’s liberal. MARITAL STATUS - single ( previously engaged ). SEXUAL & ROMANTIC ORIENTATION - bisexual, leaning more towards an attraction to men. EDUCATION / OCCUPATION - bachelor’s of science in nursing; emergency nurse LANGUAGES - english, spanish, and a few small phrases pertaining to medical emergencies in vietnamese and russian.

FAMILY INFORMATION.

PARENTS - doug and paula channing, both deceased. SIBLINGS - none OFFSPRING - none PETS / OTHER - robocop ( a black and white siberian husky ). i’d also like her to get a cat at some point ! give me this plot point !! NOTABLE EXTENDED FAMILY - none

PHYSICAL INFORMATION.

FACECLAIM - adelaide kane HAIR COLOR / EYE COLOR - brown / brown HEIGHT / BUILD - 5′3″ / slight, athletic TATTOOS / PIERCINGS - nostril piercing, small tattoo on anterior right forearm. DISTINGUISHABLE FEATURES - a scar above her left ear that goes into her hairline approximately three inches, bold, full brows. freckles. usually has bruised knees.

MEDICAL INFORMATION.

MEDICAL HISTORY - laceration to left temporoparietal area, sprained ankle, fractured collar bone, well-controlled asthma. KNOWN ALLERGIES - penicillin, watermelon VISUAL IMPAIRMENT / HEARING IMPAIRMENT - nearsighted, but usually uses contacts; tinnitus. NICOTINE USE / DRUG USE / ALCOHOL USE - occasional alcohol use, former smoker ( has had an errant cigarette on occasion ), drug use as a teenager.

PERSONALITY.

TRAITS - compassionate, resilient, tenacious ; self-righteous, cynical, aloof TROPES - nerves of steel, canine companion, good is not soft, deadpan snarker. TEMPERAMENT - melancholic ALIGNMENT - chaotic good CELTIC TREE ZODIAC - rowan, the thinker MBTI - infj HOGWARTS HOUSE - ravenclaw VICE / VIRTUE - pride ; liberality LIKES / DISLIKES: animals, reading, running and weight lifting, not having to share her popcorn, take-out, breakfast for dinner, leather / denim jackets, white sneakers, fresh cut flowers, solitude, people who think about others,  /  medical dramas, arrogance, science deniers, bok choy, people who talk to her at the gym or when she has headphones on, movie remakes, passive aggression. QUOTE:  ❝take a body, dump it, drive. take a body, maybe your own, and dump it gently. all your dead, unfinished selves and dump them gently. take only what you need. ❞

FAVORITES.

FOOD - curry. DRINK - coffee. PIZZA TOPPING - pineapple ( yes, she’s that bitch ), but with olives, mushrooms, tomatoes, and tabasco. COLOR - earth tones, grey, black and white. MUSIC - synth, hip hop, indie. BOOKS - horror, true crime, historical philosophy of science and medicine. MOVIES - the thing, nightbreed, notorious CURSE WORD - fuck, goddamn it. SCENTS - lavender, vanilla, chocolate.

BIOGRAPHY,

trigger/content warnings: murder, death, graphic violence, mental health, postpartum depression, suicide, cancer, drug mention, parent death, medical, euthanasia mention, stalking, guns

THE FOG CREEPS IN ; GIRLHOOD IS A GRAVEYARD

genevieve channing is born on a cold, grey february sometime around midnight to douglas and paula channing while the heavy oregon fog kisses the modest concrete jungle of portland oregon like a phantom. paula gives her a big name, telling the nurses with heady confidence that she’ll be famous one day, and it’s the biggest gift she ever gives her. baby genevieve is in her arms so often, she hardly touches a cradle, but it’s not long until douglas feels an uneasiness creeping in.

paula is bohemian silk skirts and crushed velvet. she grows restless being trapped in the plain, modest home in northeast. she is a woman that is easy to fall in love with—not meant to sit at home idly with a collicy baby, where she finds herself in tears more than ever. douglas returns from work to find baby genevieve screaming unattended in her crib while paula cries in the backyard with an ashtray full of cigarettes. she tells him she’s worried she’ll crash the car one day on the way to the grocery store with them both inside. douglas digs his teeth into his bottom lip and tries not to cry. he squeezes her hand and tells her she needs to go to therapy. what he really wants to tell her is that their baby needs her. he leaves paula outside and spends the afternoon tidying the house with genevieve swaddled against his chest. it’s a warm feeling.

it’s not long after that paula starts disappearing for periods of time and douglas learns she can’t be trusted to watch after the baby on her own. when she calls from downtown in tears, hyperverbal and desperate, he picks her up in his old chevy truck and brings her home. she agrees to see a doctor and for awhile, they figure out how to live again. some days are even as sweet as the rhubarb pies she starts to make again.

there are only two ways neve later remembers her mother, and the first is lovely–paula is picnics and shakespeare in the parks. she’s dried roses in the window and salmon tacos with mango salsa. she is whirlwind adventures and laughter. she teaches neve to make wishes on stray eyelashes, blowing them into the wind like dandelion seeds. on the good days, paula’s eyes are filled with stars. on the bad days, they are left black as the night sky while she cries the constellations down her cheeks. occasionally, she is cruel. mostly, she is absent.

by the third grade, neve expects this. douglas has never been much of a cook–save hamburger patties with canned green beans and a baked potato. she cooks their dinners from recipes she learns from her grandmas and helps around the house. most nights she’s home alone until the grumbling sound of the chevy breaks through the dark and signals her father’s return. eventually, she stops missing her mother from the everyday–it’s only when the other kids talk about their moms that she feels the pang of loss and wonders where she is. some nights neve finds herself sitting in her bedroom window pulling out eyelashes just to have something left to wish on. some of paula’s friends overdose on heroin or get murdered in the nights when neve is sleeping; she stays up late and hopes that her vigil will keep a distant mother safe.

there aren’t many trees on their street–unlike some of the other neighborhoods. the big weeping birch in their backyard that drives her father crazy as he rakes leaves every fall is neve’s pride and joy. there is comfort in the shade its branches cast every summer. at night it makes her lonely as it blocks the silhouette of the waxing moon. on lazy summer days when her father leaves for work, neve sits with her back curved against its rough trunk and reads the day away.

on a cool april afternoon, just after preparing a plate of cherry poptarts with a thin layer of butter on top of the frosting ( much to her father’s chagrin ), neve ventures out to the modest yard to sit under her tree. the familiar crushed blue velvet of her mother’s favorite dress catches her off guard and she drops her breakfast onto the unkempt lawn as her mind makes sense of the unnatural height of its hem as paula swings–marking the time of neve’s pounding heartbeat. the butter solidifies as it cools in the dirt, the heel of neve’s hand-me-down airwalk sneakers mashing her breakfast. the cherry filling sticks to the sole like bubblegum; she’ll never eat them again, but she can’t help but recall that her mom always preferred the maple and brown sugar.

THE ODDS ARE STACKED AGAINST HER ; A GIRL LEARNS TO COUNT CARDS

portland in the eighties and nineties is less portlandia and more drugstore cowboy. a lot of kids from other neighborhoods don’t go downtown. the ones that do have an air of palpable grit. neve takes the max, rides her skateboard in the dark. douglas has cautioned her a hundred thousand times, but paula’s death has instilled such a great fear of losing his daughter that he lets her get away with more than he knows he probably should. he fears paula’s ghost will someday possess her and she’ll wander off into the ether. most days he insists that the only parts of paula he sees in his cherished daughter are the good ones–neve holds onto the corporeal world with claws. it’s only on the worst nights–paula’s specter cooling the sheets of his bed in the dark–that he wakes up with the fear his daughter is gone.

douglas’s new wife, rosie, does her best to pit them against one another, but sometimes–she’s not so bad, neve thinks. it’s nice to have a mother figure in the house again even if she falls short most days. sometimes she thinks that maybe they could learn to love each other. if nothing else, she’s sure she owes a bit of gratitude to the woman; the nights of her father’s haunting sobs have become fewer and farther between. it isn’t until douglas begins receiving late notices on utilities that he begins to grow suspicious. rosie is quick to throw neve under the bus–a young girl like that? she’s probably stealing their money to spend on drugs and CDs at sam goody. douglas has never bet on anyone like he bets on his daughter; rosie’s gambling debts are news to them both.

the fallout of the relationship leaves douglas and neve in dire financial straits. the father is heartbroken–another love lost, he blames himself for always choosing the wrong lady luck. despite their financial ruin, left in rosie’s wake, douglas has a hard time getting out of bed most days and blows through what little sick time he has available to him. school takes a back burner and neve barely attends it at all–favoring her time on finding work ( legitimate and illegitimate ) to help keep their small family afloat. she attends class when it’s profitable and waits tables or washes dishes when she can. it’s still not enough.

a few kids turn neve onto small crimes to turn a profit. they ride the max to the suburbs and crash parties–stealing pills out of medicine cabinets and turning them over for profit. calculus wasn’t worth a good goddamn, but distribution teaches skills. it’s hard not to get caught up in petty thefts and the occasional break-ins. neve and her friends find it easy to justify in the spirit of class war. a pin on her denim jacket reads ‘eat the rich’ and it doesn’t sound so bad. portland is a cannibal and it eats its children.

neve is a cat with nine lives and despite her friends being caught by the long arm of the law or the stronger arm of revenge, she evades detection. even such cats live with a fear of death, and as consequence catches up to members of the small circle she runs with, neve knows she is living on borrowed time. sooner or later, she knows, her luck will run bone dry.

SPRING RETURNS TO PORTLAND ; THE FROST CLINGS TO FRAGILE BONES

neve dropping out of high school is a wake up call for douglas. he sees farther than she does and knows that she deserves a better life than the one he’s scrounged together for her. most days, he blames himself for a life that could have been; some kids like her wore neatly pressed dresses and folded over lace socks on picture day. some kids had piano lessons and summer camps. there’s a lot of insight in hindsight, but neve staunchly opposes his masochistic remorse and becomes determined to prove him wrong. it takes her a couple years of working to figure out what she wants to do–a girl baptised in her mother’s blood is born with the kind of heart that takes on too much. she is meant for saving lives and carrying the world on her shoulders like atlas himself.

it takes time, but as douglas gets their house in order and starts working again. neve is able to start up at portland community college. she takes up a work study job and works a steady flow of odd jobs on the side to support herself. lady luck shines her fortune on the pair for the first time in forever to make up for the steady losses they’ve sustained over the years. life isn’t lavender and gardenias, but somehow waking up becomes little and less painful each day. some days neve wakes up and forgets that she can’t breathe. most days she spends her gratitude in the heap of debt the world owes her–waiting for the other shoe to drop.

the rebirth of their family is a hearty soil; both channings flourish as if made anew. the dew drops that cling to garden spider webs in their window signal the looming anniversary of a mother’s misty breath and neve learns not to fall apart. douglas works hard to do right by her and make up for the years of never knowing what to do and waffling between what is best and what is desirable. he is a man that longs for dreams–feet barely brushing the earth like her mother’s did on that day–but he is learning to make dreams work too. his dreams take root around his daughter once more; he builds them around her and builds her up with them.

the highschool dropout graduates her community college adn bridge program and she can hardly believe it when she’s accepted to ohsu for her bsn. there are no college diplomas with the channing name hanging on walls with peeling wallpaper or tucked away in trunks with paula’s things. douglas has saved his money for months to get her the right graduation gift and neve laughs, downplaying that it’s not a real graduation, but still walks in the ceremony at his insistence.

she returns home to the small party of friends she’ll start to grow apart from when she gets tired of the jeers about how she thinks she’s ‘too good for them’ now. neighborhoods like hers don’t always love to watch you grow if it means you’ll leave them. they’ll still blow up her phone for medical advice, but the invitations dry up like the drought of portland natives in southeast. for now, it’s a pleasant barbecue. the highlight of the evening comes in the small bundle of inky fur that douglas proudly produces after neve’s second burger. peering out from his strong arms are the brown eyes of a young siberian husky. douglas begs her to name the pup murphy over robocop, but loses easily–a hearty chuckle on his lips. they are bonded instantly–girl and dog–robocop becomes neve’s second most stalwart companion next to her father.

nursing school is hard, but it’s not impossible and it is full of new kinds of joys. she makes new friends and they eat lunch from the thai foodcart—nestled within the pod of south waterfront—and lay on the quad drinking smoothies and complaining about the next pharmacology exam. nose in a book and a drink in her hand at happy hour down at cha cha cha !, neve attracts the attention of pa student shane stone. he knows a nursing school classmate of hers from high school and is quickly incorporated to their study groups with a couple of his friends. he is tall with dark hair and kind eyes and just the sort of person a girl dreams of falling in love with. he spends little time worrying about things like rent and bus passes. it’s not even the end of the semester before study dates evolve into movie dates. there’s an entire world between them, but somehow the pair build a bridge.

DEATH RATTLES AND DYING BREATH ; THE GIRL’S OTHER SHOE DROPS

as neve focuses on school, douglas seems to be making steps to keep himself around longer. they go for long walks with robocop around the neighborhood. southeast portland is becoming a different neighborhood and the cost of living is high. restaurants crop up with around the block waits and family friends are forced to move to grayer pastures. it seems, to the channings, that it’s the end of an era. with neve spending most of her time at shane’s apartment on south waterfront, douglas’ weight loss is hardly noticed–everyone assumes it is merely the byproduct of increased activity. it isn’t until his stature becomes gaunt that neve starts to worry.

shane holds neve close when she finally breaks down–sneaking into the single bathroom of the clinic to let her fall apart the way he knows she can’t do in the open. like a wild animal, the girl he loves hides herself away when she feels death’s acrid breath on her neck. he doesn’t know what loss is and he certainly can’t relate to what she’s been through. douglas’ diagnosis is like watching the noose tighten around her mother’s neck all over again. her throat is dry like she’s choking on the fibers of that same rope; the world has a foggy edge—hollow like street lights illuminating an empty suburban neighborhood on a clear, dark night. everything is wooden; everything feels like a dollhouse.

it’s hard to keep up on her studies, but somehow neve muscles through. shane gives up his idyllic apartment and moves into their modest southeast home to help out. he makes a lighthearted joke about finally being a real portlander and moving so near the trendy, revitalized mississippi neighborhood and neve drops and breaks her coffee mug on the unfinished wood floor of the kitchen. it’s just another reminder that he doesn’t belong in her world any more than she does in his. it doesn’t sting as bad as the ink on his mother’s checks that she cashes to keep her father comfortable on his deathbed while she learns to be a better caretaker. life ebbs and flows, but douglas’ drains away until she hardly recognizes the sinewy, pale hands that hold hers so strongly for a man that can’t sit up by himself any longer. she curses her mother once more for leaving and twice for never having been there in the first place.

death isn’t slow or peaceful like the woman from her father’s church will lie about at the funeral. his death rattle lasts for hours and the bellows of his chest quake with weary breath. part of her wishes that the hospice nurse had started an iv on him and a sick, hidden part of her wishes it because a sweet dose of morphine would’ve ended it all sooner for him. she wonders silently if that would do more to ease his pain or hers? he hasn’t been conscious in two days. shane sits with her at the side of his bed with rapt attention and as his breathing slows, neve crawls into the hospice bed next to him. the next several months are a blur and a father misses his only daughter’s graduation. neve is barely present there herself.

shane insists that she’s not an orphan–his parents fly in from denver and treat her like one of their own. it guilts her that she can’t help but resent them for the simple virtue of living while her own father is reduced to a cold dust. she wears his ashes around her neck in a pendant from the funeral home and spreads the rest in every beautiful place she can find. some of them spill into her purse during a hike with robo and shane and she breaks down in tears. there are so many small things that make her sick or numb. a multitude of tiny memories that weigh as much as planets; isn’t dust what helped create the milky way? even around the stone family she feels alone. maybe especially around the stones.

HACKLES RAISED, A GIRL LEARNS THE DANGERS OF BEING FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE

the emergency department attracts all kinds of people in myriad dire straits. people come in at the end of their ropes–infections ignored too long, stabbings and shootings, a broken bone from slipping off the slide, and sometimes when they feel like they can’t live any longer. evan does not fit into any of these categories when he comes in. among the myriad failings of the medical system, lack of access and use of primary care is one of the larger contributions to higher emergency department volumes and evan is another data point in a sea of statistics. he comes back to neve’s room with a sly grin plastered on his face and states that he’s new to the area and can’t get into a new primary care for a few months. his daily asthma inhaler is out and he needs to renew the prescription and get a referral to a clinic.

there’s nothing on the surface that identifies this man as a threat. he’s almost charming and he’s nontoxic appearing–a nice easy patient in a sea of sick people is sometimes a great relief. they make some small talk and it’s the usual stuff she chats about with patients: ‘where’re you from?’ ‘where did you go to school?’ he expresses an interest in nursing and she recommends the program she attended at the hospital she now works. there’s almost a tension there, and when he makes a casual comment about the tan line on her finger she tells him that she doesn’t wear her engagement ring at work because it can tear the gloves. that’s only half right. maybe he can sense the rest of the truth; she’ll wonder that later when she pieces together every scrap of something she can use to blame it on herself.

he sends her a message on facebook, which makes her lips curl downwards in uncertainty. even that isn’t entirely alarming. it opens up reminding her that he’s knew to the area, and that he’s interested in the nursing program she went to. it’s a surprise, but he makes mention of a girlfriend’s wifi and he even asks how shane is doing. he loves her dog and mentions wanting one himself. sure, it’s a little weird–unconventional–but neve has always been interested in helping others find nursing and agrees to meet him for coffee to discuss the program. when they meet, she sees the mistake inherit in it before she even opens the cafe door. he’s disheveled and hyperverbal when he speaks to her and she can barely get a word in edge wise. between the gift he’s brought her and the intensity of his stare, she wonders how she could have read him so wrong. it’s then that he drops the bomb that makes her stomach sink into the trench it detonates in–will they take him in the nursing program with a record? she doesn’t ask, but he provides the details anyway. death threats to some girl he barely knew that wouldn’t leave him alone, he paints the canvas well, but she can read between the lines. evan stevens is dangerous and his lethal eye is trained on her.

she makes an excuse to leave–the first of many excuses, the illusion of being unavailable, unattainable. it’s the advice she’s given to women before, but never had to follow. those words offered to women in distress seem so trite now, so hollow. there is so much fear in cutting ties slowly–the strategic approach to keep an impulsive person like that from escalating. she wishes she could take those clinical offerings of textbook wisdom back from those women and hold their hands. she wonders how many of them still live. he starts blowing up her phone constantly. he comments on all her social media. all day and all night. if she doesn’t respond, he threatens suicide. some days he asks if she’s working and says he brought her lunch. if she says she’s sick, he asks for her address to bring her tom yum takeout from the restaurant she’s posted about on instagram. everything makes her sick now.

A FINAL GIRL IS FORGED ALONE ; THERE IS NO SUBVERTING FATE

god, it’s hard to speak about. she can’t even let the words reach her tongue, lips and teeth to birth them. they shrivel and die in her throat, festering there until she swallows them and they rest in her stomach like great stones. she wonders if evan will cut her stomach open like a wolf and find the rocks there. that’s not how the story goes; she tells herself so many versions as she lies awake in the dark afraid to sleep.

when she finally tells her friends–a smattering of girls and guys from nursing school, the er, and her neighborhood–the response is like the knife she dreams about in her gut. she shows some of the girls at her work his picture, worried that he’ll come in asking about her. she’s chided by these friends, “he’s actually pretty cute, florence nightingale” they joke. “it must be flattering to have the attention.” even shane suspected that there’s some indulgence on her part. that maybe she likes trying to fix people who are broken so much that she gets some sick reward from the experience. he doesn’t speak the words, but neve is fluent in shane stone. he says it in his eyes, the downcurve of his lips, the tense way he sighs when her phone dings over and over again during date nights.

on a cold night in december, neve works on meal prepping alone in the kitchen. evan has been out of town helping his mother remodel her kitchen and neve feels like she can finally breathe in the space he’s left behind. turning on the wireless speaker, she tries to pair her phone to play music as loud as the thin walls of her father’s modest northeast portland home will allow and instead hears, in the cold, robotic voice ‘pairing with neve’s iphone and evan’s iphone.’ robocop doesn’t even lift his head in suspicion the whole night. she calls 911, but they find neither hide nor hair of him. in the morning, neve nails the windows shut and buys a gun–a smith & wesson .357 snub nose revolver. the weight of it is heavy in her hands and she buys a membership to a gun range, calling into work and practicing until shane returns. she doesn’t tell him about the gun and she stops telling him how bad things have gotten with evan. the click of his tongue and disapproval in his eyes is more dooming than a death sentence and she can’t bear to bring further disappointment. neve channing is a strong woman–a smart woman. things like this don’t happen to women like her.

somehow, evan is everywhere and he knows all her secret places as if he exists as an extension of her. maybe he even believes he is–sending her voice messages about how they’re connected. they are the same; they are foils of one another. he send her a picture of his ouroboros tattoo from a new number after she finally blocks him. ‘we are the same.’ he is an all-consuming, devouring force, but she is not a serpent’s tail. he is moloch–besmeared with blood, the great, horrid king–but she is not a child and she will not be sacrificed for sins she has not committed. he has not right and there’s only one way she can see this ending as the days grow longer. like life itself begins, this too will end in blood.

LOVE IS A HARD KNIFE ; A GIRL CAN’T STOMACH AMBROSIA

there is a consequence to every action and every inaction. every little thing she chooses not to tell shane fester and boils. the late nights at work and the new passcode on her phone seem more to shane like cheating than a worsening of some creep’s obsession. she hasn’t even mentioned evan to him since the trees started blooming again. when he elects to cheer her up and bring her lunch during a shift she traded so she could practice at the gun range, his suspicions deepen and while she sleeps that morning, he rifles through her work bag and finds alongside her locked cell phone the cold steel of a secret that he cannot abide by.

it’s not his fault either and she means that from the bottom of her heart. every kindness from the stones feels like another debt and neve can’t help but let the resentment fester in the tasteful diamond on her finger. when she looks upon his face now all she can see is death and it’s the world’s cruelest joke, because she’s the one with cemetery dirt underneath her fingernails. she can’t tell which of the two of them she resents more and they both deserve lives where ghosts stay buried and the dead don’t whisper malcontent in her ears while she struggles to fall asleep. nightmares are her own warm milk; she’s sick of the cold metal of a gun as she moves it from her night stand to her purse each morning. she’s tired of being made to feel like she had a stake in any of this.

it’s not the kindest way to leave a man, but she’s not sure she’s ready to face him again after all that’s happened. she leaves her house keys with her cousin paloma and packs up shane’s stuff. paloma has just started nursing school and can use neve’s father’s old house to sublet. the rent’s free and she’s always been gentle hearted. neve can’t think of anyone better to care for her father’s old house. with dear john letters to both shane and the hospital, neve takes robocop and enough of her things to fit into her subaru forester. it’s not goodbye. it’s never goodbye, she thinks as she hugs paloma on the modest porch. it still feels so permanent, but neve tells herself that big decisions always do. she yearns to discover who she is outside of grief and fear and love. a daughter cannot bloom in her parents’ shadows and she is suffocating underneath the gentle love of the mourning glory.

on the road without a real plan–because if she doesn’t know where she’s going, then neither does evan–neve signs on for a travel nursing company. the first assignment she considers is salem hospital an hour south and it’s a great department, but it’s too close to home. he’ll find her there easily. st. charles in bend isn’t far enough away either. it doesn’t feel like enough of a difference and none of them do until she’s cruising down the interstate through blythe, california and she sees a listing for a level one trauma center in tuscon, arizona. it feels like it could be the right place to burn and be born again.

A GIRL AND HER DOG; SOMETIMES PEACE IS ITS OWN KIND OF PRISON

the cool steel of the snub nose .357 revolver lies buried beneath her registration and owner’s manual in the glove compartment. she wonders briefly as she pulls out her sunglasses and slips a salty french fry into her mouth. the car stereo fades in and out along the southbound highway, switching between some smooth-talking radio host and the tinny crooning of buddy holly. it makes her think of her father, and she blinks back tears–plugging in her iphone to switch to a tune that doesn’t bring back such painful memories. robocop whines in the backseat and neve discovers that her maps aren’t loading any longer, the gps unable to locate their vehicle.

there’s no sense in pulling over and pulling out the map of arizona she purchased from a disinterested teen in the first gas station she’d come across in the state. there’s only two days before the job starts and, according to her recruiter, they’d already moved the orientation up a day, cutting her time to adjust to her new ( temporary ) place before work in half. taking a long drink of coffee–now as cold as her french fries–she blinks hard to keep awake and just when she thinks she’ll have to pull over and sleep in her car huddled close to robocop’s warm, furry body.

neve passes a hospital on the outskirts of town–lit up all pretty against the dark desert sky. it looks nice enough and the longer she drives, the more she considers that her recruiter might’ve told her they were full up in tuscon. maybe that was why they moved the date up for orientation afterall. in the dark august night, most of the businesses are closed and the lights in the mobile home park neve passes are off. the first place she sees open is bj’s food mart and she stops to get a fresh cup of coffee and stretch her legs. she learns inside that amen county is always hiring and leaves with a smile on her lips.

neve has spent nine peaceful months in boot hill. the gun no longer lives shoved into the bottom of her work bag or nestled into the glove compartment of her subaru. now it spends its days in solitude in the coffin-like drawer of her bedside table. evan will never find this place, she is almost sure of it. he might be looking for her, but he’s not looking for boot hill. some evenings on her long strolls to work, she smiles and closes her eyes–listening to the soothing sounds of the town.

soon enough, neve is sure there really was no travel assignment to reach. or, if there had been, she can’t remember where it’s at. instead, she takes some time to enjoy the small town and the anonymity she feels there. she’s not even living out of the silk bonnet hotel anymore. she hadn’t seen boot hill on any map during her road trip and, if that’s universal, her past can’t find her without a destination to set its sights on. there is more than great comfort in that. by the end of her first month, she can’t imagine living anywhere else.

the emergency department is not the bustling trauma center she was used to, but there is an appeal to the autonomy rural medicine offers an experienced nurse. hell, in some places the doctors only come in if you call them. neve can’t exactly remember the application and interview process anymore. it seems like there are so many things that have become mysteries and she can’t find herself caring enough to investigate them long enough to follow an actual lead. it seems like she’s always worked there–an instantaneous sensation of home. she couldn’t even leave if she wanted to.

[everythingandeveryplace]

*Thorns part 3 Eric x OC*

He hadn’t been wrong about her smile, it was the absolute only thing on his mind from the moment he watched her silky curls leave his line of sight. Something about her was burned into his system now, he couldn’t seem to shake the way her skin felt under his fingers, even just the tiniest touch of his hands on her waist had his heart beating just a little too fast in his chest. Her skin smelt like vanilla and peaches and laying alone in his bed last night he couldn’t help but wonder if she tasted like sugar, it was maddening really.

This wasn’t him, he wasn’t the type of fool to get caught up in milk chocolate eyes and rose petal lips, he was stronger than that, bullet proof against the charms of a women. Sure he’d had his share, he was in shape, handsome, well put together and dangerously mysterious..his cruel nature seemed to draw the women of Dauntless to him like bees to honey and he used them. They warmed his bed and satisfied a need but that was all, it wasn’t like they weren’t using him too, he was payback for ex boyfriends, karma for neglectful fathers and a challenge to their friends.

But then there was Ella, strong and fierce, damaged and beautiful.. she had seen things he couldn’t even begin to imagine, done things that would scare even the strongest man but still.. she smiled like melted sugar cane and her touch was as warm as early morning sunshine. There were secrets buried deep in her eyes, an unimaginable level of pain that he wanted nothing more than to shield her from, to finally protect the tiny slip of a girl who had spent the last three years fighting.

“She’s mine.”

The clang of metal hitting metal had Eric’s eyes lifting from the tablet in his hand, pulling himself back to reality he stared blankly at Luke, the shorter boy dropping onto the bench across from him, a dreamy far off look in his eyes. Elliot followed closely behind with Deema and Four slid into the spot beside Eric rolling his eyes.

“You wish. Dude, she literally took like eight steps away everytime you came close. She wants me. Did you not see the way she smiled at me when I gave her that hand wrap. That’s it, no one else stands a chance.” Elliot grinned smugly, his arms exposed in the sleeveless tank top he was wearing. Funny how Eric had never seen that shirt before.

“She’s amazing dude, I can’t believe you missed it. That Ellarose is like everything I ever imagined and so much more, max assigned her to combat training with the new initiates and we all got to sit in and watch. She’s so focused and get this.. she broke the dummy.. snapped it clean off its base. I think peter almost shit his pants when she asked for a volunteer.” Deema chuckled.

“Her only disadvantage is her size, she can easily win any fight but if she’s caught by surprise or her attacker manages to grab the upper hand, which is rare for her, they would be able to easily grab her and crush her.” Four nodded from beside him.

“Her size is an advantage as well, she’s underestimated. She was factionless for three years, and one of those years she wasn’t even part of the army and she still managed to overpower all of them.” Eric snapped, he felt a strong urge to defend Ella, he didn’t want anyone thinking they had a reason to doubt her.

“You did your research.” Deema teased tossing a grape at him from across the table, Eric caught it easily and popped it in his mouth rolling his eyes.

“Of course I did. She’s one of us now..you jackasses heard she didn’t have a dick and you were ready to hand over your guns.” He scoffed.

“I’d give her anything, I’d give her my last name if shed let me flip her over..” Elliot started

“ENOUGH.” Eric barked, it was loud he knew that, could almost feel it in his throat but he didn’t care, he didn’t give a shit when all eyes locked on him in the mess hall. “You don’t get to talk about her like that.” Luke’s eyes widened before narrowing

“What the fuck dude? You haven’t even met her yet.. you don’t get to play the “I respect women” card when I say you in the training room bending Lauren over the weights with your hand over her mouth three nights ago.” He hissed.

The memory of that night was long forgotten, he had been drinking and he was so damn tired and Lauren was there, she was always there following him, watching him. He had been on his way home after a workout when she walked in with her long blonde hair and barely there shorts, Lauren had finished bottom of her class the same year as Eric, her father was a leader at Dauntless and that’s the only reason she had graduated. She was sexy but she was weak and desperate, he hadn’t even taken off his hand wraps before her hand was deep under the waistband of his shorts. He didn’t remember much of it, he couldn’t even look at her during or after.

“You might want to cut this argument short. Look who just walked through the door.” Four nodded towards the open doors where Ella was standing somewhat awkwardly, her mess of curls pulled back into a braid, loose strands brushing across her cheekbones and the tight black tank top she wore exposed the scribbled writing on her collarbone, he couldn’t quite make it out.

“Let’s ask her to sit with us!” Luke beamed, standing for a moment to wave excitedly, Ella’s eyes instantly fell on Eric’s table, a shy kind of soft smile gracing her lips until she caught sight of Eric. Her whole body loosened, he saw the way her shoulders dipped and her head cocked to the side, her fingers that had been balled tightly dropped to her thighs and smoothed the fabric of her pants before she started towards the table.

He was already shifting to the side to make room when Ella was intersected by an incredibly excited Tris practically bouncing on her heels to meet the girl that everyone was talking about. He couldn’t quite hear the conversation between the two girls but he could make out Ella’s gentle laughter and Tris’ warm compliment.

“I am so happy to meet you! I’m Tris Prior. I wanted to come see you before we welcomed the new recruits but I got stuck with paper work, you’re kind of an inspiration to a lot of the girls and women here.” She grinned shyly, her blonde hair was pulled back with a headband and her green eyes look extra large.

“Oh gosh, that’s so kind. Thankyou. I’ve heard about you, you were the year above me. You had the fastest time in beating your fear simulation, I was always amazed at how quickly you could get out.”

That was all Eric heard before she was shuffled away to sit at the table halfway across the room with Tris and Christina and a few of the other female dauntless trainers.

“Dude.. your girlfriend is actually the worst.” Luke pouted, plopping down to sit back in his seat.

Four just chuckled

“I’ll be hearing all about her tonight I’m sure. Tris has been crazy excited to meet her. Looks like Eric here is just going to have to wait his turn like the rest of us.” He clapped a hand to the muscular mans shoulder before turning to Deema to continue there conversation.

“You’re not getting this one Eric.” Elliot said from across the table, an almost angry grimace on his lips as he squinted with narrowed eyes “she’s not going to fall for whatever games you play, she’s smarter than the bimbos you hook up with. Don’t even bother. This ones mine.”

It took everything he had not to lunge across that table and wrap his fingers around the cocky boys throat, he would have given anything to watch the color drain from his skin and his eyes pop out of his head.

But he didn’t.

Eric simply stood up, brushed his pants off and walked directly to the door. Tension radiating off of his shoulders, he couldn’t deal with this right now, he had recruits that couldn’t hit a target if you shoved their face in it, Max was breathing down his back about planning a factionless ambush and Four and Tris wouldn’t stop trying to set him up with “a nice girl.” His life was anything but settled right now.

So four hours later when he was sitting against the open door of the immobile train he nearly murdered the subtle footsteps that he heard moving behind him.

“Deema, I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m not depressed or in need of your mental guidance I’m just tired and I needed a breather. That’s all.”

“Sure is a pretty place to breathe.”

The distinctly feminine voice had him twisting around, he couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes looked like the deep soil that lined his backyard when he was a kid, they were so rich and dark. She moved to sit beside him, her leg pressed against his in the cramped space.

“Deema told me I could find you here. I missed you at training this morning, they stuck me with combat. Good thing though, I suck at weapons.” She chuckled, face turned to the setting sun.

“No shit?” He asked, genuinely surprised. Ella turned to him then nodding loosely.

“God yeah, I can throw a knife like no ones business, that’s easy. It’s the guns and rifles that freak me out. It’s like I see them and panic. They didn’t have many weapons in the factionless. Bombs though.. those are my specialty.” She winked.

“So I’ve heard.” Eric smiled for the first time since he’d left the mess hall, Ella’s gentle and teasing disposition making it easy to relax.

“You have beautiful eyes.”

Blushing was not a word you would ever imagine to use in the same sentence as Eric Coulter but at the tiny warriors words he felt the deep flame of his cheeks spread all the way down to his toes.

“Shut up.” He shoved her shoulder, laughing softly when a dimple bearing smile broke through her face.

“Oh you know it.” She teased “you know how good looking you are, you’re the talk of Dauntless. The brooding trainer with the fire ash eyes. Girls drool when you walk by Mr. Coulter.”

She was staring at him now, he could feel her gaze on his skin eyes tracing his tattoos.. examining him, inspecting him.

“I can’t figure you out.” She whispered.

His eyes snapped to hers

“I’m an open book.” He joked, watching her as she watched him.

“They say you’re mean.. cruel even. I was going to stay away from you. Lord knows I’ve been around enough angry in the last few years. But you’re not cruel..”

“Yes I am.” He cut her off, for the first time in his life he regretted how the truth felt falling from his lips.

“Not to me. I know cruel and you aren’t cruel. determined, strong.. maybe jaded and bitter but not cruel.” She looked away, eyes trained on the peach and honey setting sun.

“And you?” His fingers brushed her knee before settling over the smooth black fabric. “Are you cruel?”

Her eyes followed his fingers, before she dropped her own hand over his. She shrugged tiny shoulders and looked up

“I don’t know what I am anymore.”

He didn’t like that look on her face, confusion, hurt...lost. He moved calloused fingers to soothe the scrunch between her eyebrows, trying to ease just a little of her anxiety.

“You’re Ellarose, you’re here. That’s all that matters.”

She stared for a moment, a flash of something In Her eyes before she nodded just slightly

“Tris invited me to dinner at her and fours apartment tonight, I said I would go. She said you might be there?” It wasn’t a question, he would be there.

“Yeah. Yeah I’ll be there.”

He wasn’t missing a chance to be around her

He couldn’t.

[whitewolfofwinterfell]

Hi! I haven't followed you for long and I would love to get to know you better. So maybe you could talk about your favorite characters and what you love about them? xxx

Hey lovely! It’s great to hear from you! 

I have too many favourite characters to name so I’ll just choose the ones that come to mind:

Prue Halliwell (Charmed)

Anyone that’s been following me for a while will know Prue Halliwell is my favourite character of all time. I grew up watching Charmed and as a child I always loved how strong and badass Prue was. As I matured and grew up I realised my love for Prue went a lot deeper than that. I love Prue’s strength and resillience, her devotion and ambition, the way she took responsibility for her family and always prioritised the well-being of others above herself including strangers. She was never afraid to do what’s right or what she believed in no matter how hard it may be. She was confident, self-assured, loyal, intelligent, independent and courageous. I honestly just love everything about Prue’s character. I could talk about her all day, so I best cut it short. The main reason I love her is because I see in Prue Halliwell the kind of woman I would wish to be.

Jon Snow (Game of Thrones)

I’m still very sensitive about Jon after the final season of Game of Thrones, just to pre-warn you haha. I love Jon because he was always an outsider and an outcast, even in his own home; someone that was unimportant and overlooked, but that through his skills and qualities was able to achieve incredible things. Just like Prue he always does what he felt was right no matter the circumstances or consequences of that (one of the consequences being him getting murdered). I love him because he is the one character on the entire show that didn’t give a shit about politics and titles because he could see the bigger picture. I love that despite knowing how impossibly difficult it would be and knowing that people would laugh and disbelieve him, he devoted himself to gaining allies and armies big enough to fight the army of the dead. Jon was always humble and grounded and never swayed by others. He knew his own mind and he knew what was right and he always acted on that. His heart was pure, he was courageous and loyal, and he fought for the honour and safety of others. 

Sansa Stark (Game of Thrones)

I love Sansa because she went on an incredible and inspiring journey. She began the series as a naive girl with dreams of living in a castle and marrying a prince and through the sad and traumatic experiences she endured, she developed into a new, stronger person. She was incredibly resillient and became the person she needed to be to survive in a cruel and unfair world. Despite the horrors she endured she never lost hope and she never gave up. She continued to fight and she took back her home by her own sheer will. Instead of submitting to the will of others she shrewdly and cleverly observed her enemies and captors, absorbed knowledge and skills from them and later wielded them for her own benefit. Her intelligence, grace, courage, strength and determintion led her to be crowned Queen of the North and I’ll forever be in awe of all that she achieved and the incredible journey she went on. Sansa Stark is an amazing woman. 

Aragorn (Lord of the Rings) 

What’s not to love about Aragorn, honestly? He’s a highly skilled soldier and fighter, intelligent, wise, steadfast, loyal and dedicated. He has an ability to lead and inspire whomever he’s with because of the charisma, skill and knowledge he has. He’s respectful, considerate and a true friend. The amount of courage and bravery he has is incredible and there’s no situation that you could put Aragorn in that he wouldn’t tackle head on with his shoulders back and his head held high. When confronted with the Ring he was never seduced or tempted by it because his restraint, inner strength and moral code was so strong. I honestly just love everything about Aragorn, I think he’s amazing. 

Angel (Angel the Series) 

Angel is my baby. I didn’t fully appreciate or understand him until I watched Angel, but now that I have I’ve fallen in love with him completely. He’s such a complex hero with so many layers to him. His story is one of a kind - a vampire cursed with a soul - and the way in which he selflessly dedicates himself to helping those in need is inspiring. There’s no end to the compassion and empathy Angel has for others or the lengths to which he will go to to help people. Even with those that don’t deserve his kindness, he’s able to show forgiveness and understanding. Yet he’s not perfect; he struggles (a lot) with his own conscience and past, and as a result he’s prone to depressive moods and feelings of hopelessness. But no matter how low he gets or how hopeless things seem he always finds the strength to carry on for the sake of those around him. He’s completely grounded and understands that he can’t change the world, but amazingly that doesn’t stop him from giving his all to helping those few people that he can and making a difference in their lives. And although at first he does it because he’s seeking his own redemption, it’s never really about that. He’s just so connected to humanity (which is ironic since he’s a vampire) that he can’t simply stand by and watch innocent people suffer and do nothing about it. He’s a hero in the truest sense of the word. A well-rounded, multi-faceted character who is flawed but always committed to being the best version of himself he can be and doing everything in his power to improve the lives of others. I also generally love his dorkiness and how funny he is. 

Jax Teller (Sons of Anarchy) 

I love the complexity of Jax. He’s probably the only character in this list so far that’s categorically a bad person. He’s a criminal, a gangster, a gun-runner, a murder, a brutal and aggressive man who will beat people within an inch of their life. But what I love about him is that despite that cold, ruthless, reckless and awful side to him, he’s also an incredibly sensitive, passionate and loving soul. Jax feels so deeply, more deeply than any other character I know, but the result of that is that he has all of these extreme sides to his personality. He feels something and he reacts. He does stupid, abhorrent, evil and unforgivable things, yet through all of that I see his soul throughout it all. A tormented soul which is all twisted up and shrivelled inside, desperately trying to break free. Jax is one of the most conflicted characters I’ve ever seen. On the one hand being a member of SAMCRO is who he is - it’s literally ingrained in his DNA - and on the other hand, it’s contradictory to the very foundation of who he is as a person. He’s empathetic, he cares about people and he knows right from wrong. At the start of the series he doesn’t kill and when faced with brutality he struggles to mentally and emotionally handle it. It doesn’t sit right with his conscience. And his love for his wife and his sons creates a constant inner-turmoil and war inside him. He feels the responsibility for his club weighing heavily on him, but at the same time knows how detrimental the club is to his family who he loves more than anything and wants to protect. No matter how hard he tries or what he does he knows he can’t strike a balance between the two and he can never find peace within himself. I love the very nature of Jax’s character in this sense, because it’s so damn complex. I also find it facsinating how deeply and dramatically his character changes throughout the seasons. He grows darker and darker until by the end of the series he’s practically a monster. And yet I still can’t help but love him because it doesn’t matter how far he does or how awful the things are that he does, I still see his humanity and see the grief he carries for the things he does. I guess a large part of the reason I love Jax is because he’s so different from me and so different from anyone I’ve ever known and I find that fascinating. 

Ben Mitchell (Eastenders)

Of course I had to include Ben on this list, how could I not? Ben is a character that snuck up on me. I’ve watched Eastenders on and off my whole life (it’s ingrained in me as a Brit haha) but I never really attached myself to Ben until Max Bowden took over the role. Max brings something to the character of Ben that enabled me to connect to him immediately. Ben is a tragic character. His back-story is so sad that it’s hard not to feel sympathy for him. His psyche is so twisted up (a lot like Jax) and he has a lot of complex issues that fascinate me. In many ways he’s an awful human being (once again, just like Jax he’s a murderer and a criminal), but he’s also very much human. He loves his father and craves his approval, he dotes on his daughter and longs to give her a better life than he had and be a better father to her than Phil was to him, he’s fiercely loyal to Jay who is his longest and oldest friend. Ben is a very loving and passionate character who feels deeply. In fact, he feels so deeply that he acts out because he doesn’t know how to handle those emotions. And the things he’s had to endure have also instilled him with an anger that he can’t control. He feels that he’s been stepped on his whole life and that he’s endlessly suffered (which let’s face it, he has) and he can’t help but take that out on the rest of the world. I love Ben because of the complexity of his character and because despite everything he’s done I truly believe that he’s a good person. He shows his capability for goodness in the way he is with his loved ones. All I want for him is to wake up and realise that he can’t continue down this path of destruction he’s on. He needs to start healing and move forward and make better decisions for the sake of his future and his daughters. 

There’s more characters I could’ve included on this list, but it’s already too long so I’ll leave it there haha. 

Thanks for asking! :)

[winterisakiller]

Love & Great Buildings: Chapter Four

Chapter: 4/19

Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.

Rating: T (for now)

Author’s Notes/Warnings: This is part nine of Last Minutes and Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff​ for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

This story and its preceding one-shots can be also be found on AO3 under the username: winterisakiller (sparkinside)

Tag List: @tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER FOUR

  Rosemary cracked her eyes open, squinting in the bright sunlight that had flooded the room. It took several minutes for her to shake the disorientation of sleep off enough to recognize the familiar cluttered mess of Jules’ living room. She sat up and immediately regretted such hasty action. Her vision swam and it felt as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to her temples. Repeatedly. “Oh God,” she croaked and winced at the grating sound of her own voice. “Kill me now.” 

A pained groan sounded from somewhere near the couch. Jules. Rosemary took a perverse sort of pleasure knowing that she wasn’t the only one feeling much like death warmed over. God, they had sorely overdone it. 

“Only if you kill me first.” Jules’ voice was muffled by several layers of blanket that, in any other circumstance, would have been utterly hysterical. 

“Not quite how that works.” 

She fumbled feebly for her purse, seeking the blessed paracetamol she kept stored there. And water. God, she needed water. But water was in the kitchen. Going to the kitchen involved standing. Standing was something she knew she absolutely did not want to do. She silently cheered as her fingers clutched around the small, plastic bottle and pulled it from her bag. Step one, complete. Now came the hard part. 

Gritting her teeth, Rosemary struggled to pull herself first onto her knees and then slowly, so so slowly, to her feet. The world only faded in and out of focus for a few moments and once it settled, she steeled herself for the harrowing journey towards the kitchen. I am never drinking again. 

One cautious step and then another. Slowly, she stumbled into the kitchen, blatantly ignoring the switch for the overhead light. She very much doubted she could handle the bright flickering of fluorescent lighting at this point. The kitchen was dim, the lighting from the hall providing enough illumination for Rosemary to locate and grab a glass from the cabinet above the sink. She hesitated for a moment before grabbing another and shutting the cabinet door. If she was in desperate need of water than no doubt so was Jules. 

Two glasses full of cool tap water, Rosemary made her way back into the living room. She paused at the lump of blankets on the couch. “Water,” She intoned before setting the glass onto the wooden top of the coffee table. A pale arm poked its way out from beneath the covers and the voice underneath mumbled thanks. 

Rosemary laughed, wincing at the pain it caused. Right. Paracetamol. She needed paracetamol and now. She grabbed the pill bottle she’d placed on the table and deftly popped its lid, pouring two tablets into her hand. She washed them down with water and walked back towards Jules’ prone form. 

“Here,” she stated, dropping the bottle on top of the blankets. 

Jules pulled the covers off her head, grimacing at the brightness. “Please tell me you threw paracetamol at me. Because if you tossed a packet of gum on me I will kill you.” She attempted to glare at Rosemary but the effect was diminished by her overall look of pained confusion. 

“You’d have to catch me first, sunshine, and in such a state I think I can outrun you, hangover or no.” Rosemary smirked, taking pity on her pathetic friend, grabbed the bottle and thrust it into Jules’ outstretched hand. 

“Bless you.” 

“I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart,” Rosemary quipped, “You are a bloody bitch when you’re hungover and I can only deal with one of those at a time.” 

Jules only response was a raised middle finger. 

Rosemary cocked an eyebrow, laughed, and then grimaced as another stab of pain flooded her temples.  She slowly lowered herself back onto her makeshift bed on the floor and grabbed the glass she’d left on the edge of the table. She quickly downed the rest of her water and closed her eyes, praying that the medication would kick in soon. It would be nice to not feel like her head was going to explode at any moment. 

                                                          ___

She awoke again several hours later feeling marginally more human. Pushing herself up she made a quick dash to the bathroom and then back into the kitchen for more water. She found Jules there, sitting on one of the bar stools, sipping a still steaming mug of coffee. 

“Is there any more of that?” Jules nodded at the French press on the counter and Rosemary wasted no time grabbing her own mug. “I know I should stick with water right now, but fuck me if I actually care at the moment.” 

Jules snorted into her mug. “Same.” 

Blessed caffeine flooded her system and she felt almost human again. She cocked her head at her friend. “What time is it?” 

“Time for you to invest in a watch.” 

Rosemary rolled her eyes, “Ha, very funny. Your wit astounds me.” 

Jules smirked, “I do my best.” She took another sip of coffee. “Half one I think.” 

Had she not placed her mug on the counter it would have fallen from her hands and clattered to the floor. “What?” she breathed. 

Fucking hell. Fucking, fucking, FUCKING hell! 

She dashed back into the living room. She heard Jules splutter after her, but paid it little mind. Dropping to her knees, she grabbed her bag from the floor and tore through it searching desperately for her phone. She had to call the store, had to make sure everything was alright. Max and Hanna were there by themselves. Yes, she had trained them and she knew they knew what they were doing; but fucking hell she was supposed to be at the shop until things got firmly settled. 

But the damned thing wasn’t there. She cursed aloud, dumping the contents onto the floor and shifting through them. Maybe she’d missed it. 

No, it wasn’t there. She let out a groan of frustration. Come on, Mathews, think! Had she used her phone after she’d left the shop that evening? She had a half hazy memory of holding her phone…By the couch! 

Rosemary jumped up and darted for the couch. She finally found it hidden underneath one of the couch cushions. How it had gotten there she didn’t know. But she’d found it.  She made quick work of unlocking the screen. She opened the dial screen then the ‘recent calls’ log; half fearing she’d missed their call. She let her eyes fall to the screen and nearly dropped her phone. All thought of the store and of Max and Hanna flew from her mind.

 Oh no! No. No. No.  Please, god, no. 

She stared at the ‘recent calls’ log in abject horror. Tom’s name was there. Why the fuck was his name there? And at two in the morning? The log listed the call as lasting nearly fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes? Oh dear god in heaven… 

A cold dread settled in her stomach. What the fuck had she done? 

“Please god, Jules, tell me you didn’t let me call Tom last night…” Her voice shook with both fear and humiliation. Of all the stupid fucking things… 

Jules stood in the doorway of the kitchen with her arms crossed at her chest, momentary confusion clouded her features. “What?” 

Rosemary paced the living room, hands clenched at her sides, mind racing. “Tom. I called Tom last night…Or well this morning. Why did I do that?” She groaned and covered her face with her hands. 

“Because he’s a tit,” Jules retorted, matter of fact. 

Rosemary flushed in anger, “But that doesn’t mean I need to call him pissed out of my mind and tell him that now do I?” 

Jules shrugged her shoulders and chuckled. “To be fair, I didn’t think you’d actually do that. You know that anything I say after a bottle and a half of wine is not to be trusted…” 

“SOBER me knows that!” Rosemary hissed back, cutting Jules off. “But drunk me apparently can’t be fucking trusted.” 

Snippets of conversation flashed in her mind. Her own angry voice slinging accusations and Tom’s confused and hurt replies. She felt her chest tighten as she fought to breathe. If she’d said half the things she thought she had…She shut her eyes tightly, trying to quell the panic that was roiling inside her. 

Not good. Very, very not good. 

“You okay?” 

“No.” She shook her head and slumped onto the couch, cradling her head in her hands. She heard Jules’s light footsteps and then felt the couch dip under her weight as Jules settled beside her.

“It’ll be alright,” Jules reassured as she wrapped an arm around Rosemary’s shoulders, squeezing them gently. “So you told him off, it’s not like he didn’t deserve it.” 

Rosemary snapped her head up. “You don’t get it, Jules. What I said…Or think I said, I can’t remember for sure…Jules, I had no right. None!” 

She took a deep, trying to calm herself. It was little use. Her brain refused to be silent; fragments of her words, hazy and disjointed echoed loudly. 

‘Arrogant, self-righteous bastard…’ 

‘…No wonder you can’t get your shit together.’ 

‘What I ever saw in you…’

Rosemary shook her head, trying to clear the words and the rising sense of shame they brought. She’d been callous and cruel and the worst part was she couldn’t remember half of it. She was certain she was about to be sick. Head between your legs, the belated thought skittered across her mind. Put your head between your legs and breathe. 

So she did. 

And slowly the panic began to recede and she could breathe without gasping. Belatedly, she felt Jules stand and heard her steps as she shuffled from the room. And then she was alone. 

She found herself staring at the phone she’d dropped onto the coffee table. It sat there, inert and seemingly harmless. Without conscious thought she bent and picked it up, turning the screen on with a few taps of her fingers. Her hands shook as she stared at his name in her contacts list. 

All of the anger and uncertainty of the day before had faded. She hadn’t forgotten what he had done and how it had hurt her but it didn’t seem nearly as important. All she wanted was to fix this. To fix the shaky truce they had at least been trying to build. To heal the hurt she caused. But actually reaching out and doing so terrified her beyond words. 

But if I don’t try… 

Rosemary took a steadying breath and with shaking hands hit dial.   

The phone rang once, then twice. And then a click and the line disconnected. Her heart sunk like a stone in her chest as she realized what had happened with a sick and certain dread. He’d hung up on her. She couldn’t blame him; not in the slightest. Hell, she would have hung up on her too. Guilt gnawed in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know what to do. She could feel the desperate panic of uncertainty roaring its ugly head. 

Just try again, her brain urged. You need to try. 

With determination Rosemary redialed and held her breath. Three rings this time. Her mind whirled. She had no idea what she should say, or even could say, but knowing she had to say something regardless. Knowing that she had to try to apologize, to fix the mess she’d unleashed. There was a pause and then his voicemail kicked in.

“Tom...it…it’s Rosie. I know you probably…” She halted and tried to gather her thoughts. “There is so much I need to…I’m sorry. Please, just call me back. Please.” She hung up quickly, and let out a shuddering breath. This was not the sort of conversation she could have with his voicemail. Doing so would lead to more confusion and the real, and terrifying, risk of further pain and misunderstanding. She needed to talk to him and he wouldn’t talk to her. She didn’t know what to do. 

Rosemary closed her eyes and tried to think. Panic and indecision whirled within her. What could she do? How could she get him to answer the phone and let her explain; let her apologize? She didn’t have the first idea but she couldn’t sit back and do nothing. 

Without a word, she shoved her scattered belongings back into her purse and grabbed her coat from where she had tossed it the night before. She needed to think and she couldn’t do that here. She called a farewell to Jules and shivered as she stepped into the weak sunlight of the late winter afternoon. 

The wind was brisk as she sped her way towards the Underground station a few blocks from Jules’ door. She pulled her coat tightly against her and joined the queue down the escalator and into the station. She boarded the next train, still lost in her thoughts and it wasn’t until she looked up and realized that her change point was two stops back that she fully came back to herself. 

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. Nothing for it but to get off at the next station and switch trains there. But the next stop came and went and she remained on the train. She didn’t think about what she was doing until she saw a familiar station come into sight. 

Rosemary stood and exited the carriage with cautious determination. If he wouldn’t answer when she called then she would go to him. 

                                                         ___

Rosemary pressed the buzzer on the black metal gate before shoving her hands back into the pockets of her coat. It was absolutely freezing and she resisted the urge to hop from foot to foot to keep warm. As she stood, her mind flashed back to the last time she’d stood here and the uncertainty and dread she’d felt then. The more things change, the more they stay the same. 

She jumped as Tom’s garbled voice came over the speaker above the buzzer. “What?”

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see, but please I need to talk to you. Just give me ten minutes of your time. Please.” Her voice shook at the very real possibility that he wouldn’t open the door. She put on a brave face, if he didn’t then it would be nothing less than she deserved. 

Several minutes of silence passed. Rosemary blinked back tears and prepared herself to walk away. The clink of the gate unlocking stunned her into immobility momentarily. She blinked for several seconds before pulling it open and walking towards the front door, heart pounding in her chest. 

Tom stood in the doorway, blue eyes cold and sharp as steel, his arms crossed defensively across his chest. This was such a far cry from the warm and caring man she’d known. He stepped aside without a word and she made her way into the warmth of the entry way. Her eyes darted around the hallway, taking in the familiar simplicity of his home. She was heartened to see that despite the years, nothing much had changed. Tom still hadn’t spoken and she fought to maintain a steady grip on her emotions. He’d let her in. That was something. 

Without a word, she made her way quickly into the living room. Again, she was heartened to see the familiar walls of books and simple but comfortable furniture. She felt rather than saw Tom follow behind her. His silent presence was unnerving and she fought the urge to turn tail and run. She refused to be a coward. 

They settled; her on the chair near the window and him on the sofa several feet away. Neither spoke. The silence in the room was near deafening and Rosemary wanted nothing more than for it to break. But Tom wasn’t talking and she feared that if left to his own devices, he wouldn’t say another word to her. 

Rosemary could feel his eyes boring into her and she fought to keep herself from flinching. She took a deep breath and braced her hands on her knees, trying desperately to think of where to start, what she could possibly say. The truth, her mind screamed. Tell him the truth. You owe him that at the very least. 

“Tom, I just…I don’t…” She stumbled over her thoughts and had to stop to gather herself before trying again. “God, Tom,” she whispered, dropping her head into her hands. She could feel his eyes on her and the words nearly stuck in her throat. Still she pushed onward, needing to apologize even though she knew there was little chance she could. “I am so so sorry for last night. I was completely out of my head. I shouldn’t have said that. I had no right to…” 

“Which part?” He asked cutting her off. His voice was level but she could detect the hint of underlying tension as he seemed to struggle in vain to contain himself. “The part where you called me ‘an arrogant, self-centered, selfish, prick of a bastard’ or when you said that I only date blonde, dimwitted pop stars and Hollywood starlets because they are the only ones who can put up with my ‘massive ego’ and ‘desperate need to be a media whore’? I’m paraphrasing here, mind you, but I think I got the gist of it.” 

Rosemary squeezed her eyes shut. That summer had always been a sore spot for Tom and she’d known it. He rarely, if ever, talked of it but when he had she had clearly seen and understood the toll it had taken on him. Throwing that in his face had been nothing short of cruel. 

She’d never felt so wretched in her entire life. He’d hurt her, yes. God had he hurt her. But he’d never done so intentionally. He’d been misguided and selfish, but he’d never set out with the intent to cause her pain. She had. She’d wanted him to hurt like she’d hurt so she used the one thing she knew without a doubt would leave him bleeding. 

“All if it.” The words were barely a whisper and with great effort she raised her head and met his gaze. “I know it’s too little too late but I am so, so sorry. I had no right to throw any of that at you. It’s not true and I had absolutely no right to say it. I wish I could take it back. I wish I’d never said it in the first place.” Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks and she wiped them away as quickly as she could. She didn’t have the right to be upset. Not at this. She wasn’t the injured party in this and she damn well knew it. 

Tom sat in stony silence, his eyes burning with hurt and fury as he stared first at her and then at the table before him. She tried to ignore the shiver of unease his gaze sent up her spine. She wished he would speak, would say something, anything. 

“Well you did say it and you can’t take it back. That’s the funny thing about words, whether your intent is to help or harm, once they’re out there, you can’t take them back.” 

Rosemary drew a shuddering breath and fought to regain her composure. He was right, of course. She’d known it from the second she’d realized just what she had done. And she couldn’t change it. “I know that, I do. But that doesn’t mean I don’t wish it weren’t the case.” She paused, taking another deep breath and gathering herself once more. “I was drunk and angry and I wanted to hurt you. It’s not an excuse, I don’t have any excuse for lashing out at you. But I did and it was wrong. So very wrong of me. I know that that doesn’t fix or solve anything, but I am so dreadfully sorry.” 

It was Tom’s turn to breathe deeply. His eyes drifted closed for a moment and his face clenched then relaxed. “I know you’re sorry, Rosemary, but right now that is simply not enough.” He paused again, resting his hands on his knees. “I get that I hurt you and that I’ve been a selfish, cowardly prick but you took it too far and I can’t deal with that. Not now.” He scrubbed his jaw with his left hand. “I think I’d like you to go now.” 

She flinched as if struck but quickly gathered herself and nodded silently. Fair enough, she thought. That is bloody fair enough. Without another word she grabbed her purse from the floor beside her chair and walked quietly out of the house.

Next Chapter

[soapberryspringsrpg]

Forbidden Fruits

Hello Berries! The nights are getting longer, the air is getting crisper, the lattes are getting pumpkin spicier so you know what time it is. Time for the third ever Soapberry Springs writing prompt!

This prompt is meant to appeal to that part of many of us that once devoured cheesy romance books, thrilling over cliche after cliche so long as the right people ended up riding off into the sunset together. To play along, please choose one of the scenarios under the cut inspired by the brave harlequin romance writers and their specific books. 

You are free to change genders and names, of course; the only two things that must remain as posted are a) the title and b) the plot.

As always there is no time limit and no due date. Players are welcome to write self-paras, blurbs or novellas, poetry, chatzys or threads, to edit graphics, make playlists, etc. All creative takes on the theme are welcome and encouraged! 

Select below from prompts!

Feyness By E.S. Carter In this dark and sexy story, Faye’s cruel, powerful father forces her to marry wickedly gorgeous Cole. She’s convinced that Cole is pure evil — and he’s determined to break her…

Delicious Temptation By Sabrina Sol

After years of keeping her family’s struggling bakery afloat, pastry chef Amara is tired of being safe and predictable. Can she convince Eric, her brother’s ex-best friend, to make good on his bad-boy reputation? A smoldering erotic romance!

An Unconventional Courtship By Scotty Cade

Personal assistant Tristan and his CEO boss, Webber, both struggle to hide their true feelings from each other. But when the pair travel to the Caribbean on a business trip, they discover they can’t hold back their desires forever…

Grayson’s Mate By Tamsin Baker

An alpha werewolf in search of his mate is led to the last person he expected: the handsome stranger he rescued from a car accident. Their desire is undeniable, but can a werewolf and a mortal man find a way to be together?

Make Me Want By Katee Robert

Lucy is a confident, high-powered lawyer — but her ex-boyfriend gave her self-esteem issues in bed. Can her friend Gideon help her realize she has the power to drive him wild?

Bound by Honor By Cora Reilly

To fulfill her father’s promise, Aria must marry notorious, coldhearted Luca. But can she break down Luca’s walls and find the passion within him?

Bad Neighbor By M. O’Keefe

Sparks fly when Charlotte meets her sexy new neighbor Jesse. He’s an alpha bad boy who isn’t afraid of anything — except for his growing attraction to Charlotte, as their desire for each other rages out of control…

London Calling By Clare Lydon

A charming, witty romance: Jess never expected to be moving back in with her parents at the age of 32. But just as things seem hopeless, she makes an unexpected connection with a gorgeous woman. Could happily ever after be on the horizon?

Three Wrong Turns in the Desert By Neil Plakcy

Aidan can’t stop thinking about Liam, the alluring bodyguard he met in a Tunisian bar… When a high-octane chase takes them into the desert, their desires reach a boiling point in this steamy adventure!

Tempting Boundaries By Carrie Ann Ryan

Decker has always lusted after his best friend’s little sister, the woman he can’t have. But when Miranda decides she wants him, he may not be able to resist any longer…

Camp H.O.W.L. By Bru Baker

A sexy shifter romance! When Adrian finally turns into a werewolf — eight years late — Tate, a counselor at a camp for new werewolves, is ready to guide him. But cynical Tate never expected Adrian to be his destined mate…

Roller Girl By Vanessa North

When newly single Tina joins Joanne’s roller derby team, their friendship ignites a steamy passion behind closed doors…

The Shop on Main By Kay Correll

Bella is devastated to learn that she may lose her small shop — and an attractive businessman is the root of her worries. When they clash, can she settle her financial woes on her own and embrace a second chance at love?

The Road to You By Harper Bliss

Serious Katherine and free-spirited Ali have been enemies since college… but fate keeps throwing them together. As the years go on, will they see another side to each other — one they could learn to love?

Road to the Sun By Keira Andrews

When his eight-year-old daughter is kidnapped in Montana, single dad Jason Kellerman enlists the help of park ranger Ben Hettler. Suppressing their burning mutual attraction, the two men begin a wild and desperate hunt through the wilderness…

Captive of the Hitman By Alexis Abbott

When Alicia gets caught up in a dangerous situation, Mikhail takes her captive for her protection. But their sexual chemistry is off the charts — and he refuses to let her go…

Feeling Hot By Elle Kennedy

Home from deployment, Navy SEAL Cash McCoy forms a tantalizing connection with a mysterious blonde. Little does he know that she’s Jen Scott — his commanding officer’s sister! Can he keep his hands to himself around the one woman who’s off-limits?

Professional Distance By Silvia Violet

Heartbroken Thornwell swears off love — until he hires aspiring chef Riley as an escort! Though the two men couldn’t be more different, they begin to fall for each other. Can Riley convince Thornwell to set aside his doubts and live deliciously?

Black By T.L. Smith

Left heartbroken by his first and only love, hit man Liam Black is surprised to find her a decade later. But Rose isn’t the woman she used to be…

Training Sasha By Becca Jameson

Sasha is eager to explore her submissive side, but BDSM club owner Lincoln — who’s also her brother’s friend — won’t admit his attraction to her. Can she convince him to help her explore her sexual desires?

Stalking Buffalo Bill By J. Leigh Bailey

From the moment coyote shifter Donnie spotted buffalo shifter William at his cafe, he was smitten. When deadly figures from William’s past come back to settle unfinished business, the pair team up to ward off danger — and protect their future together.

Dog Days By TA Moore

Apocalyptic weather conditions are wreaking havoc across the globe. But weredog Danny has more immediate problems — including his wolfish ex-lover, Jack…

Dirty Girl By Meghan March

When Greer is drunk one night, she posts an embarrassing personal ad — and now she has thousands of takers! But bad boy Cavanaugh is a cut above the rest…

Tonight’s Encore By Parker Avrile

When Zac returns to his small hometown, he renews his relationship with Reed, who knew him before he became a rock star. But the pressures of fame could tear them apart in this steamy gay romance!

The Longest River By Hildred Billings

After the death of her twin sister, Helen moves to a secluded mountain village to find her independence and heal. There she meets widowed bookstore owner Kiyoko — an introduction that feels like fate…

Dirty Daughter By JB Duvane

Emily is determined to seduce her mother’s former psychologist, Max. But she doesn’t realize that he has his own plans for her — and soon she’ll be locked up in his remote cottage, forced to satisfy his every desire…

Mr. So Wrong By R.C. Stephens

A searing, sexy romance! After finding wealthy bad boy Al caught in a blizzard, Samantha brings him to her ranch to nurse him back to health. She doesn’t want to let anyone close to her heart, but why can’t she keep Al out of her bed?

Tempt the Playboy By Natasha Madison

After arrogant playboy Noah has a one-night stand with Kaleigh, he’s determined to claim her again. But she may not fall for his charms so easily…

One Last Heist By Dahlia Donovan

Partners in love and in crime, Toshiro and Mack plan to get their crew together for one last heist. It was supposed to be easy — but as they become embroiled in a deadly conspiracy, the stakes will rise out of their control…

Little Liar By W Winters

With so much pain in her past, there’s no way Allie should be drawn to bad boy Dean. And yet she can’t seem to stay away from him…

Seducing Cinderella By Gina L. Maxwell

Physical therapist Lucie needs help wooing her crush, so she asks her brother’s best friend, Reid, to teach her the art of seduction. But their arrangement leads to an unexpected chemistry, and Reid can’t give her up…

Tormentor Mine By Anna Zaires

In this “darkly addictive and hauntingly beautiful” romance, assassin Peter comes to torture Sara. But then he becomes obsessed with her…

As Sure as the Sun By Elle Keaton

After a brush with death, retired US Marshal Sacha starts anew in a small town. As he works to restore an old building, he crosses paths with history enthusiast Seth — and discovers a sizzling attraction that may persuade both men to risk their hearts.

The Endgame Duet By Cleary James

When her life takes a turn for the worse, Lisa offers herself to wealthy Grayson in exchange for the money she needs. For seven days he can do whatever he wants with her — but will they be able to control their sensual desires?

The Beat of Love By L. Loryn

In this passionate gay romance, brooding musician Wolfe and handsome actor Miguel court the media by pretending to be a couple. Will their fake celebrity relationship crash and burn — or turn into a connection more powerful than they expected?

The Isle of... Where? By Sue Brown

When Liam Marshall travels to the Isle of Wight to fulfill his best friend’s dying wish, Sam Owens helps him through it. They swiftly develop a connection — but does their budding relationship have an expiration date?

Ruthless By Dani René

Dangerous bad boy Callan always gets whatever he wants — so when he sees sweet Madison at a BDSM club, he must have her. A darkly delicious erotic tale!

Fire and Flint By Andrew Grey

When single father Jordan turns to sheriff’s deputy Pierre with his concerns about a corrupt judge, the two men discover they’ve made a powerful enemy. They’ll do whatever it takes to protect each other in this stirring and suspenseful read.

Entangled by Nikki Jefford

Two months after dying, Gray wakes up in her twin’s body. She’s forced to spend every other day impersonating snobby Charlene — and only warlock Raj notices the difference. Can Gray be saved, or will she fade altogether?

Southern Spirits by Angie Fox

When Verity discovers the power to commune with the spirit world, she teams up with local bad boy Ellis to evict some undead tenants.

Witch Slapped by Dakota Cassidy

Stripped of her powers, ex-witch Stevie Cartwright teams up with the ghost of a sexy British spy to solve a murder case involving a bogus psychic medium.

Issued to the Bride: One Navy SEAL by Cora Seton

Navy SEAL vet Brian has always dreamed of owning his own ranch — so when he’s asked to marry a general’s daughter, Cass, in exchange for a share of her land, he can’t refuse.

Sit… Stay… Beg by Roxanne St. Claire

Garrett, a dot-com millionaire turned dog rescuer, keeps his heart on a tight leash — until journalist Jessie is hired to write a profile on him…

Earthrise by M.C.A. Hogarth

On a mysterious rescue mission, no-nonsense ship captain Reese Eddings commands her vessel Earthrise straight into danger, battling pirates and slavers to save elf prince Hirianthial…

Chez Stinky by Susan C. Daffron

Kat inherits her great-aunt’s dilapidated house, which is filled to the brim with pets and complications. As she adjusts to her new surroundings — and connects with Joel, who’s as handy as he is handsome — will she embrace her new start?

Rumor Has It by Elisabeth Grace

When an embarrassing video goes viral, Ellie Wagner’s reputation pays the price. Her life seems ruined, but a fresh start awaits when she falls for Mason Nash…

Smart Tass by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Hunter has been tormenting his bookish neighbor Tass since they were children. But when she’s challenged to date him — and he needs to take her virginity to win a bet — can a fake relationship solve their problems and reveal their true feelings for one another?

Once Upon a Time by Blair Babylon

When princess Flicka decides to flee her violent ex, her bodyguard Dieter is the only one who can help her. But their irresistible attraction heats up in ways neither of them expected…

Malevolent by Jana DeLeon

PI Shaye Archer takes on the baffling case of Emma Frederick, a woman convinced that her abusive husband is out to get her. Except Emma killed her husband weeks ago…

Club Shadowlands by Cherise Sinclair

Stranded during a storm, Jessica takes shelter in a nearby house. But when she discovers it’s actually a private BDSM club, she begins to explore her fantasies with a sexy dominant…

Stripped by Stacy-Deanne

Baltimore cop Dee Quarter investigates a cult whose charismatic leader, Jonathan Wild, is determined to ensnare her…

Kiss of Fire by Rebecca Ethington

Joclyn just sent her high school bully flying through the air! Could her phenomenal power have something to do with the strange new scar on her neck? Her handsome best friend Ryland holds all the secrets…

Heaven in His Arms by Lisa Ann Verge

Forced to take a bride, André chooses sickly Genevieve, assuming she won’t survive the harsh winter. But Genevieve is not the frail noblewoman she appears to be, and André soon realizes that he needs her more than he ever expected…

In Search of a Love Story by Rachel Schurig

Tired of losing at love, Emily undertakes a research project: she’ll binge on romance novels and chick flicks until she learns their secret. Handsome Greg could be her Prince Charming — but why is Emily’s friend Elliot so unhappy about her plan?

The Chef’s Mail-Order Bride by Cindy Caldwell

Tripp trained at an elite culinary school, but he can’t get a loan for his restaurant without a wife. Raised in a bakery, Sadie agrees to head west as Tripp’s bride. Can the two learn to work together as they open their new restaurant — and find love in the process?

The Witch Hunter by Nicole R. Taylor

Cursed by an ancient witch, vampire Zachary will die a slow, agonizing death. His only shot at survival is Aya, the so-called Witch Hunter, who has been asleep for 150 years… But she has no interest in helping him.

Ignite by Kaitlyn Davis

When Kira discovers her mystical powers, she must fight for her life — and choose between sweet, goofy Luke and gorgeous, blood-hungry Tristan.

Crash by Drew Jordan

Stranded in the Alaskan wilderness, Laney takes refuge in the arms of the stranger who rescues her. But will he be her savior — or her destroyer?

Going Hard by Kelsey Browning

When rich playboy Grif Steele returns to his hometown, he reconnects with Carlie Beth Parrish. But with a murderous stalker on the prowl, can Grif protect her — and the daughter he never knew he had?

Hers to Take by Talia Ellison

When Octavia gets caught in a dangerous situation, her rival, Aaron, offers her a deal she can’t refuse — to escape with her life, she must pretend to be his sex slave. But they don’t expect a forbidden attraction to ignite…

Claimed by Evangeline Anderson

The Kindred race is primarily male, and must choose among human women for their brides. When Olivia is drafted into marrying broken and tortured Baird, she’s determined to resist — but she hadn’t counted on falling for her alien warrior husband…

Forever a Soldier by Genevieve Turner

When Hank returns from combat, he agrees to move into a 100-year-old house owned by his great-great aunt and uncle. His peace is disturbed by Lale, an inquisitive scholar digging into his family’s secrets. But their attraction will open up hidden places in their hearts…

Liam by Kimber White

Though forbidden to be with his fated mate, sexy shifter Liam will stop at nothing to claim Molly, the spitfire who sets his heart aflame. But is Molly ready to embrace his wolfish identity?

The Second Sister by Rae D. Magdon

When Eleanor’s father dies, she’s left with her unhinged stepmother and two stepsisters, Luciana and Belladonna. Eleanor must prevent wicked Luciana from bewitching a prince — but meanwhile, beautiful Belladonna stirs up feelings she can’t resist…

Time to Upsize by Graeme Aitken

Blake’s the perfect boyfriend as far as Stephen is concerned: easygoing, gentle, and sweet. But lately, Blake has been getting increasingly jealous, and it doesn’t help when gorgeous Rick moves next door. Can Stephen resist temptation?

Playing Games by Liliana Rhodes

Cassie gets her dream job working for billionaire Gabriel — and she’s determined to remain professional. But their irresistible attraction ignites after she’s caught trying to watch him in the shower…

Kindling Flames: Gathering Tinder by Julie Wetzel

After landing a job as assistant to a handsome CEO, Victoria feels like her life is finally on the right track. But when she discovers her new boss is the city’s most powerful vampire, she’ll have to decide whether her attraction to him is worth the risk…

Switching Hour by Robyn Peterman

After a stint in witch prison, Zelda is on magic probation — and if she can’t finish a mysterious task in the next month, she’ll be stripped of her powers forever. But a gorgeous werewolf may prove to be a tempting distraction…

Sacrificed to the Dragon by Jessie Donovan

Dragon shifter Tristan has despised humans ever since hunters killed his mother. But his clan insists he needs an heir — and a human mate. When he meets gorgeous Melanie, a slow-burning fire ignites deep within…

The Vampire’s Mail Order Bride by Kristen Painter

Running from the mob, Delaney becomes a mail-order bride in the spooky town of Nocturne Falls — only to learn her fiancé is a 400-year-old vampire!

Haunted on Bourbon Street by Deanna Chase

When empath Jade Calhoun moves into a haunted New Orleans apartment, she must use her unique abilities — and the help of her sexy landlord — to ward off a powerful spirit.

[akaiaowl-tales]

Reality in Motion (Modern College Mileven AU)

Chapter 5: Don’t delete the kisses

After finding out the real reason behind Mike’s actions, Eleven rethinks their whole friendship.

Still Friday 22nd, December 2017

A sick feeling hit El really hard, her gut clenching painfully.

You had this coming.

Girlfriend?

You idiot. Here it goes again, of course this was going to happen.

It hurt.

This is what always happens whenever you think you deserve anything other than loneliness.

She swallowed back all the pain and tried to keep a straight face.

“Oh, so Mike has a girlfriend?” she managed to choke out with a controlled voice, trying inhumanly hard to keep herself together.

“Mhm”, Will nodded absentmindedly, “they’ve apparently been going strong for several years now”

“Oooh, I never quite pinned him like the long-time girlfriend type,” Max pointed out, her blue eyes wide from all the gratuitous gossip.

“Please DO tell us all the dirty secrets and nasty details and don’t spare any details!” said Max excitedly looking at Will, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

At her friend’s comment, images of Mike making out with some shadowy mystery girl suddenly filled Eleven’s mind and she felt like throwing up.

Thankfully, no one seemed to be noticing her utter mortification.

“Actually…I don’t know much more about it since he doesn’t really talk about her much”, Will answered thoughtfully.

Max seemed to lose interest at that, and went back to text her friends.

El looked at her best friend anxiously, knowing he had to know at least something else. She was using all her might to try to hide the dread and expectation she felt at whatever extra shred of information her best friend had about Mike’s relationship.

Masochistically, she desperately wanted. Not wanted. Needed to know more.

“I do know they have a long distance relationship now, since she stayed back in Illinois and he’s, well, here” Will continued, still sounding very worried about his friend and oblivious to El’s constipated face.

“Oh”, was Eleven’s witty reply.

Will frowned, looking at nothing in particular, as Max focused on something on her phone.

“And, yeah, we’ve been trying to respect his space until now, which is why I figured it was best not to tell him since he probably won’t come anyway… but, now that we’re talking about it, going out might just be what he needs…”

She tried swallowing the sudden knot on her throat, it was becoming increasingly harder to breathe. However, at the very moment El suspected she was about to have a panic attack or something, Max turned to be her lifesaver.

No longer finding Mike’s love life interesting and loathing the sudden gloominess in the air, the redhead girl indifferently changed the topic to something more urgent. After all, the three of them had been planning to get trashed Saturday night with all their friends before they all left for Christmas and New Year’s.  Soon enough, Max and Will began a discussion about where the party should take place, neither of them noticing or even suspicious of Eleven’s prolonged silence.

Meanwhile, El tried to battle off her thoughts and keep the sharp, cruel voice that kept trying to push her off balance at bay. She refused to feel anything. She refused to be affected by something that never really meant anything, something that never actually was, that never actually happened or began or ended.

Most of all, she refused to cry. Especially in front of her unsuspecting friends. El knew she had this coming and still allowed herself to think that it might somehow be different. She refused to allow herself, once again, to be a victim to her own stupid hopes and illusions.

You are pathetic.

Yes, she was.

You had this coming.

Yes, she did.

--….--…--…---

Saturday 23rd, December 2017 (Afternoon)

Hours seemed to fly by without any consideration to El’s gloomy state of mind. It had already been more than a day since she found out about Mike’s relationship status and she still could not rid herself of the sick feeling at the pit of her stomach. She had aimlessly wandered from one classroom to the next, note-taking distractedly and getting through the day by letting herself be guided by the sheer routine of college life. Luckily, since these were the last few days before holiday break, everyone seemed as distracted as her and most of the professors had been quite light on them, work-wise.

El loved learning about the inner workings of the human mind and the reasons behind people’s complexity. Her goal was to listen and help people that, like her, had had rough childhoods or came from difficult backgrounds. She knew just how deeply that could affect someone and El wanted to be there for others in the way Joyce Byers had been there for her: as a safe heaven, a comfort, and, overall, a friend. However, things had been less than perfect lately, and for a lot of reasons.

Currently, Eleven was sitting on her bed, a voluminous textbook open on her lap and music from a random playlist playing softly on the background: she was the very picture of a responsible college student. But, who was she kidding? It had already been a few days since she had been able to actually focus solely in her college work… and that might have had to do with her dramatic, restlessly romantic, over imaginative mind (ugh). Lately, her gloominess and distracted mind had become yet another source of frustration for her, since it made everything so much harder for her.

Yeah, sure El’s grades were a bit above average, but she had gotten used to and expected better results, especially considering she invested (or tried to invest) so much effort and time on her academics. Due to this, she could not shake the feeling of dread that hinted that maybe she was the problem. That no matter how much she strived, she would never be able to truly help. That she was just not good enough.

Evidently, this unshakeable feeling was a constant source of worry and frustration for Eleven, since she felt the responsibility to be the best she could be for the sake of the people she intended to help. Sometimes her own pushiness could be a huge weight on her shoulders, but she felt she owed to, at least, make as much of an effort as she could.

However, El knew and had to admit that it had also been a long time since she had truly felt any motivation at all to continue working towards her goals. And that had a lot to do with the fact that she felt everyone in her classes was just so much better than her, and she felt out of place and unable to keep up with them.

El felt sick, she looked sick, and it would not be a surprise at all if she had actually gotten sick. She had been wondering all day now if it would be rude to just skip the party she helped organize and disappear until the break was over. Plus, that could be a good distraction from obsessing over her final grades, something that she was already dreading. It would be incredibly easy to just pack up and buy a ticket to Hawkins. She knew Joyce wouldn’t mind having her for a couple of extra days and would probably understand.

That would just probably make everyone here concerned, you idiot.

But she was scared and tired.

Actually, truth was, Eleven did not feel nearly strong enough to keep up the cheery façade. Greatly due to that, she didn’t know how much longer she could go on hiding just how shattered she felt inside: everything in her life, from her grades to her social life, seemed like a huge crumbling avalanche already coming down on her. Undoubtedly, having a lot of alcohol in her system was not the best idea in a moment when she felt so vulnerable she was almost bursting at the seams from all the emotion welled up inside her.

El’s dread exponentially increased the closer it got to 9 pm, probably due to the fact that her love life (or lack thereof) was in imminent danger of exposure.

She didn’t feel strong enough to face them, to stare at her friends’ faces and look at them in the eye and just continue to lie to them. And pretend, just pretend she was having a great time and that everything in her life was going just great, when all she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and sleep for a day or two. Sleep until everything seemed so far away and dreamlike and blurry she wouldn’t care anymore. Sleep until everyone forgot about her and until her existence faded away.

You don’t deserve them. Not a single one of them.

There was nothing El knew better than that. Her friends were amazing people. They were the most loyal, kind-hearted and, overall, the greatest friends anyone could ever want or ask for, and the fact that she badly wanted to avoid them (maybe until next year) pained her… Maybe she should have come clean in the first place, at least with Will, who was supposed to be her best friend.

However, El could not imagine a more pathetic scenario than admitting to Will and Max her stupid, childish, and clearly one-sided feelings towards Mike.

She wanted to be alone and hide away forever. She felt so pathetic, so small, so undeserving.

It’s your own fault. How could you ever think someone would fall for you?

It was becoming increasingly hard not to physically flinch at all the truth the cruel voice spat like knives at her. The salty tears made her vision blurry, and that’s when she finally realized she had been crying all the while.

Why did a stupid disillusion over a crush wreck her so deeply?

Why was she so utterly scared of the inevitable? Why was she afraid of loneliness? Why did she feel like such a failure all the time, like she deserved nothing at all?

She would never admit it out loud, but one of high school El’s most secret daydreams was having someone finally fall for her, or at least like her in a romantic way.

So stupid, she knew.

The quiet girl had always known that she was Plain Jane, she had heard it so many times from so many different people that it never truly hurt her anymore.

And that was fine.

Actually, it had been fine to be invisible. Because, at least for a while, it allowed her to survive high school. This, especially since people wouldn’t talk to her and she wouldn’t have to endure those awkward social interactions that made her so anxious. It had been fine, really, until she realized how sad it made her not to be like everyone else, how sad it was to feel so excluded from any chance at a potential romantic relationship.

It was stupid and it shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did.

Sure, El knew that all relationships ended and that no relationship was ever perfect… but she’d always been a closet-romantic and she wanted what all the girls at school seemed to have or had had at that point. . She knew she had a shitload of problems to face back home, but she’d always hoped her life could be different, which is maybe the reason this situation bothered her so much.

Most of her worry, she supposed, was due to the way she was always so hard on herself when she compared herself to others, always recriminating herself for things that (she knew deep down) escaped her control.

El felt ugly and boring and plain and too damaged.

“That is surely why no one notices me”, she had concluded back in junior year.

So she pretended it didn’t affect her.

She had tried her best to embrace it (like she’d embraced most of the other things that pained her)… but there were times in which that insecure and cheesy side of her would peek up into the surface again and demand attention, which is why El found herself harboring petty crushes throughout her high school years.

…And also, rarely, found herself dangerously close to feeling something else.

It had happened twice. Once at the end of junior year. Once during her last summer at Hawkins, before she headed to college.

Both of those times had ended disastrously.

They’d both ended with El feeling overwhelmingly disappointed and depressed and stupid for feeling that way in the first place. Stupid for blindly trusting someone that had no reason to care about her or her feelings.

And here you were thinking maybe college would be different.

HA. HA. HA.

All she had to do, El realized, was move on like she had done those other times. Eventually, she figured, she would probably forget about everything and then everything would be back to normal again.

She needed to keep herself busy and distracted. She had to go out tonight and try to have fun.

--….--…--…---

Max passed a beer bottle to a distracted Eleven, who couldn’t help but scrunch her small nose at the memory of the bitter taste of the liquor.

“It’s just a Corona, El, it’s not that bitter”, the redhead said condescendingly.

“Better start drinking now and be wasted when they all get here,” some girl said, while clumsily taking a seat on a nearby chair.

El took a cautious sip of the golden liquid and sank further into the couch, listening intently to all the chatter and laughter around her. She and Max had been the first to arrive. However, despite her usual worries and perpetual awkwardness – mainly due to the people she wasn’t acquainted with and the fact that they were all hanging out on the apartment of one of Max’s friends – El was glad she was here instead of overthinking in her lonely dorm room.

I made the right choice tonight, she thought.

The bell rang and Max went to welcome whoever it was. It turned out to be Will.

“Finally!” she said, giving Will a quick hug.

“Hey everyone,” the thin boy said with a shy smile, immediately recognizing some of his classmates.

The few people in the living room turned to greet him and El grinned with relief.

“Hey, why are Dustin and Lucas not here yet?” Max asked as she made her way back to the couch she’d been lounging in.

“Probably forgot they were supposed to bring more booze on their way here and are now desperately trying to get it,” Will snickered rolling his eyes.

Probably due to her best friend’s calming presence or perhaps because of the beer she was still sipping occasionally, El began to feel a lot less self-conscious and her overactive mind seemed to slow down a bit. After a while, she was even chiming in on some of the conversation going on around her. It actually felt great to have to focus on banal chatter after all the hardcore emotional stuff her mind had been absorbed in lately.

One of Max’s soccer friends (was his name Tim?) suddenly started a casual conversation with her, which was nice since she felt a bit like an intruder when she spoke up in other peoples’ conversations. Also, she already knew him from the lunches Max made them have together and it helped her feel a lot less worried about making a fool of herself. After the usual initial discomfort she felt, she soon relaxed a bit and even elaborated more on her answers. El was surprised to find out the guy was also majoring in psychology and couldn’t help her giddiness when he started discussing some of his favorite class topics.

El turned to Max, intending to ask for another beer (Coronas were actually not that bad!) and saw her friend blushing a bit. She had been so caught up in the conversation that she’d missed the ring of the bell and, apparently, Lucas and Dustin’s arrival. She looked up with a he grin, happy about them being here.

Her smile froze in her face.

Mike was there with them, looking very tired and miserable.

Despite her contradicting feelings and the hurt and betrayal she still felt, El couldn’t help the feeling of shrinking in her chest when she took in the dark circles under his eyes and the defeated hunch of his shoulders.

She saw Will, who had opened the door, look at his friends with concern and ask something quietly. Lucas only managed a nervous smile and Dustin only smiled and patted Mike’s back, effectively pushing him into the apartment.

That’s when their eyes met.

Dark brown and honey brown.

And she swore the breath was knocked out of her.

El quickly looked away, already feeling the stupid blush crawling up her neck and into her cheeks. Of course she wouldn’t be able to escape her feelings for a night. Of course she was naïve enough to still be affected by Mike. The guy she’d been chatting with was looking at her with a questioning glance. Great, she had sure looked like a moron, gazing at someone who was not interested in her.

For the next forty minutes, she tried to follow the conversation, forcing herself to listen intently at Tim’s excited talk, which she might have actually have found interesting if her mind didn’t insist on wandering off.  However, her own thoughts were menacing to choke her and reduce her into a pathetic, crying mess.

“Tim? I’m sorry but I think Max needs me right now, I need to go find her now,” El suddenly said cutting the startled boy midsentence and standing up.

She decided not to dwell on his slightly hurt expression, she had her own hurt to take care of.

Quickly making her way to the kitchen, Eleven was glad she didn’t accidentally bump into Mike or something. Sure, El knew that they needed to talk, for sure. However, she felt irrationally scared of having to make small talk to him now, in public and surrounded by their friends, and pretend everything was fine. Taking long, calming breaths, she leaned on a counter and just observed the hall in front of her.

Unexpectedly, just over the loud music playing in the living room, El managed to catch the hushed voices of two of her friends.

“I’m telling you, it’s tonight or never! This NEEDS to happen before we all leave for the holidays!” Dustin was exclaiming.

Someone shushed him.

“It might backfire, is all I’m saying,” Will answered pensively, “both Lucas and Max are so… stubborn.”

“Which is why WE need to help them sort it out,” Dustin replied with a duh-voice.

She tiptoed quietly into the closest bedroom, hoping to go unnoticed by the guys out in the hall.

Glancing at the emptiness inside the messy room, she didn’t think twice before finally sliding down to the ground, with her back on the wall near the door.

As she trembled a bit, Eleven realized she had been wrong. She was not ready to cry, not yet. Just think, just escape. Just not ready to face anyone at all.

Suddenly, someone barged in from the hall, allowing the loud music from the living room in when the door was flung open.

It was him.

Of course it was him.

And he looked every bit as frantic and desperate as she felt inside.

He didn’t notice her until he closed the door behind him quietly, probably also hoping to go unnoticed. Finally, when he did see her tiny shape on the ground, Mike ran a trembling hand through his already messy hair.

At the sight of her, his dark eyes turned gentle and his face filled with all the guilt he’d felt since last Tuesday.

“I’m sorry,” he said, standing up next to her with his back to the closed door, “I should have known avoiding it would be worse.”

El could not, for the life of her, manage to glance away from her shoes.

“I’m sorry, I just, I don’t know, a lot’s been going on lately and I, I really shouldn’t have done that, I know that I’ve probably hurt your feelings and that’s the last thing I would ever want and I did it and then I just couldn’t face you-” Mike rambled frantically, like he was finally letting out all of the thoughts that were driving him sick with worry and guilt.

“Ok,” was all El managed to say. She knew he hadn’t intended to hurt her feelings. But everything was still wrong.

“No, El, it was not ok and I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen, you’re my closest friend right now and I guess I needed someone to vent to, and I did, I did in the worst way and now I get it if you hate me forever, I really do-”

Still standing, he burrowed his face on his hands and Eleven, from her place sitting on the floor, could no longer make out any words.

“Mike? We can still be friends,” she found herself saying even as the sinking feeling in her stomach grew.

Silence engulfed them in a blue atmosphere that matched the messiness and darkness of the small bedroom they were in, as well as their general mood.

“Are you ok?” she finally asked with a controlled voice, touching Mike’s knee cautiously but still not daring to look up at him.

“No,” he answered, not looking up.

She needed him to know that she knew.

“Is this about your girlfriend?”

At that, Mike looked up at her. Guilt was written all over his sharp features.

“I wanted to talk to you about Bex… I know it makes everything look even worse.”

Bex. Now the mystery girl had a name. And it hurt so much more.              

“It’s ok, I know you never intended for anything to happen,” El replied because she knew it was the right thing to say.

And it was the truth. Even if it was confirming all of the nasty thoughts the cruel voice had been bombarding her with those last few days.

“Will told me about it”, she confessed in a low voice, trying to keep up an indifferent façade and break the uncomfortable, heavy silence.

“Yeah… I know they worry about me”, he sighed, “and Dustin probably checked my texts or something”.

“So what happened?”

“That’s just… it’s just very complicated”, Mike answered, letting each word out hesitantly, “Bex’s grandfather died and she’s not coping very well…but then, she has been lashing out a lot lately, even before  that happened. I’m worried about her.”

She knew how much it hurt to lose someone you love, she’d been through that herself quite a few times. It was tragic, and El found herself reluctantly empathizing with the girl.

And she hated it.

It was better when she was an individual, unbiased third party (well, as unbiased as her crush on Mike could allow her to be). It was definitely better when she could mentally criticize Mike’s relationship without feeling guilty, when she could hate on the mysterious, faceless and nameless girlfriend without any feeling of remorse over it.

“Maybe she was too scared he would pass away and angry she couldn’t do anything about it… and she’s taking her anger off on the people closest to her”, El said slowly, suddenly recalling a similar conversation she had with Joyce a few years ago.

Mike looked at his hands, feeling hopeless and shook his head.

“I try to be understanding and I try to be there for her you know?” he said in frustration, “but I also need to give her some space, and it’s hard because I tried but she keeps pushing me away and I promised”.

His long legs bent and, unceremoniously, Mike slid down to the floor, hiding his face behind his long graceful fingers.

“I promised”.

She noticed his shoulders shaking slightly and, despite her hurt and her better reason, her heart went out to him. He had been right with her through her weakest moments, through her moments of vulnerability and reliving the childhood ghosts that still haunted her. Despite realizing she was probably the less suited person to give comfort, Eleven couldn’t find it in herself to put her feelings first at this time.

Hesitantly, El placed one of her arms around Mike’s long-limbed frame and squeezed his shoulder awkwardly. She really had no idea how to do this. Will, her closest friend, had never really had a breakdown like this, always being one that kept to himself when feeling sad or depressed.

--….--…--…---

In what felt like a few minutes later, Mike and El were startled by a sudden loud noise coming from the bedroom next door. Despite their already awkward sort of embrace, they quickly sprang apart from each other, both equally scared of their friends catching them in such a vulnerable moment.

“For real guys?” Lucas yelled while pounding at the door, his voice sounding crystal clear due to the thin wall separating both rooms.

Only faint laughter could be heard from the hall.

“You’ll pay for this, I SWEAR!” screamed Lucas again, this time with a defeated tone. This, maybe because he knew full well his friends were probably already in the living room and most likely out of earshot.

El heard Mike chuckling softly.

“They’ve gone through with it,” he said.

“Were they really planning to force Lucas and Max to date by locking them in a room?” Eleven answered, thinking back at what she heard at the kitchen.

“Not date,” Mike said, “just confess their undying love to each other.”

Eleven snorted at that.

“Well, I know for a fact, Max would have totally agreed to go on a date if he had asked.”

“Lucas is a proud guy, he would probably take months to finally convince himself to put his pride at stake,” Mike answered solemnly.

She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. El was sure that Lucas’ cautious nature would balance out Max’s risk-taker attitude.

God, she shipped those two so hard.

Almost without thinking, El turned to look at Mike and saw a similar smile in his face. He did seem a lot better now, as if some weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Hey El, thanks for being here right now, and being my friend,” he said on an impulse, his dark brown eyes boring into her.

El swallowed the sour knot stuck on her throat.

If that’s all she could ever be, if that’s what he needed right now… then she was happy she could be her friend.

But it still hurt. Her pride hurt. Her heart hurt.

She looked down, breaking the eye contact and trying to blink back any traitorous tears that could give away the tornado of emotions roaring inside her chest.

Thankfully, Mike didn’t seem to notice the shift in her mood, as he was now clumsily trying to stand up.

“You ready to go back there yet?” Mike asked El, offering her a hand.

“Not really, I’ll just take advantage of the fact no one has noticed my absence yet,” Eleven answered sincerely, “I feel like I need some alone time right now.”

READ MORE: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12840366/chapters/29318523