#heavy sigh. i just wish i could have like. a functioning memory

[elftwink]

forgot my food in the work fridge even though i spent the entire shift looking forward to eating it and wrote on my fucking arm do not forget food in fridge. i am so fucking sick of living in this godforsaken world

[bugs1nmybrain]

Bipolar!Tomura x Reader

Warning: Bipolar Disorder (implied to be type 1), gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, Shigaraki is mean to the reader, psychotic symptoms, substance use (weed and alcohol), short

note: Shigaraki refers to himself as "being bipolar." I'm aware this is pejorative language, but it made sense for the context of Shigaraki's condition in this story. I also have Bipolar Disorder for reference.

The TV was barely audible over the obnoxiously loud video game music and sound effects coming from Tomura's bedroom. It wasn't like he was ever quiet, but this loud? The neighbors might mistake you two for having a break-in. It definitely didn't help when Tomura would cuss out his screen.

"are you fucking KIDDING ME?! You SCUMBAG CHEAT FUCK!!"

You weren't unused to him talking shit to people on voicechat. It's just he was particularly erratic at the moment. You wanted to check in on him but you weren't sure if that was appropriate. The stabbing decibels would surely blast you away.

Suddenly, all the sounds stop, only leaving the sound of your ears faintly ringing from the absence. It was soon that you smelt..*sniff* .. pot. You hoped he had a fan going and you also wished he'd share. Tomura was already on it though. He opened the door to his room and zipped into the kitchen. With his joint still burning in his hand, he reached up into the cupboard to grab a glass and then a bottle of whiskey. Damn, maybe he should ask for some help?

You watched as he attempted to open the bottle, with his joint in his left hand. His quirk certainly was to be taken accounted for, and he knew it too, because he got too impatient and dusted away the cap, only for the disintegration to fall into the bottle.

"fuck," he said abruptly, but just decided to pour the alcohol in his glass, dust particles included.

"Tomu?" you questioned, watching him try to multitask putting the shit back while smoking his joint.

"Yea, I know, I'll share. Just hang'on."

"Can I help you?"

"Uh.." he spent a moment pondering as if it was a weighted decision. "Here, hold my joint."

You walked over to him and took it from his hands. You contemplated if you really wanted to smoke now, given his state. You knew early on that Tomura had a condition and this wasn't the first time you'd seen him manic. The fact that he wasn't on medication also meant that his episodes could get carried away, and he'd scare you. Not because he was scary...or maybe he was, but you knew it was because he had tripped into a heavy episode.

Tomura turned back to face you when he was done, noticing the joint burn down.

"Why aren't you smoking?" He asks. His tone was normal, though a little jumpy.

"I don't really wanna."

"Why? I don't like smoking by myself. Makes me feel like shit."

"You seem restless."

"Mm, how'd you guess?" He said with a blissfully agitated staring at you.

"Like..you're fast."

"I'm so speedy fast wanna watch me?"

"When's the last time you slept?"

Shigaraki paused and tried to sort through his recent memories but he was unsure. "Uh, maybe..five? Five days ago? I've probably had a nap or two though."

"Maybe we should calm down. Do you wanna watch a movie?"

"Why're you talking to me like a kid?"

"I'm not, I'm worr-"

"Yea I know that, I can tell it's all over your fucking face. Listen, I'm well aware I'm batshit crazy right now but I'm NOT some tragedy, alright?"

"I didn't mean it that way," you stood shaking, trying to fight back your eyes watering.

Tomura sighed seeing you standing scared in front of him. He'd been trying to be fine for weeks. Tomura was never "fine," but when he was paranoid, hyper, determined, and careless beyond proper function, it was a major hindrance. Impacted his goals, though he was great at brainstorming when he was manic.

"You meant it. I'm not even like, mad. I don't know why this happens though, you've seen it before, right?"

"I have. Tomura, can I say something without you getting pissed?"

"What?"

"I think you have Bipolar Disorder."

"Oh really? Turn in your psychiatric report because I'm sure I'm many other things too!"

Tomura huffs and plops down on the living room couch. His adoptive father never gave him access to anything like mental health treatment. AFO told Tomura himself that issues of this matter where only problems that could help his passion for destruction. But Tomura would even admit, being manic beyond belief was scary. He heard voices, saw things that weren't there, sometimes his family, and it was a total living nightmare.

You snuck up behind the couch and began playing with his hair gently. He let out a "hm?", confused considering he just raised his voice at you.

"I just say it because I notice patterns. Like you'll be motivated and nonstop for weeks and then super depressive and bummed out. And it repeats over and over. Usually within the same time frames, too. I'm not trying to insult you, but it might explain things, right?"

You ran your fingers through his scalp. It was definitely a while since his last shower, too. His hair was greasy and dry, but you kept touching him. You could feel him relax into your fingers and whine.

"Sounds like bullshit. I'm not taking any pills."

"I'm not telling you to."

"Well, are you leaving or something? Gonna punish me for being Bipolar?

"No. I want to help you."

"Ain't you some fucking hero."

"I mean it. I can tell you're overwhelmed and just need some sleep or something. I'm not mad Tomura, I never was, I just want you to be ok."

His shoulders began to tense and shake a little. He may have been tearing up but you didn't look and he sat silent.

"Can we order pizza and play Mario Kart, instead? I don't wanna just sit. I'm too awake."

"Yes, baby. I can make a pillow fort!"

"Fuck yessss. Um. I'm also really sorry for yelling at you that wasn't cool."

"I understand Tomu."

You ruffled his hair and kissed his head quick before bolting off to grab your phone but he pulled you down to his lap before you could escape! mwah-ha-ha!

"Stay here for a bit."

"You're trapping me!!" You protested.

"You want me to settle down? Then stay."

Tomura rested his head against yours and held you like you were a stuffed animal. Soon, you could feel his body relax and heard snoring. You turned to see Tomura finally sleeping, but decided to sit still and drift off with for the rest of the night.

[marvelmaniac715]

Not quite sure what this even is, I have a vague idea, but I’ll just write stuff as it comes to me and tidy it up when I think it’s finished, hope you like it :).

————————————————————-

“You’re doing it again.”

Nica blinked before sighing wearily. One of the many downsides to having Chucky in her head was that he was able to read both her thoughts and her emotions, and seemed to think he was responsible for her well-being or something. It wasn’t entirely clear, but he wasn’t promising to kill her like he was back when he first entered her head. 

He’d tell her anecdotes from his past life, tell her jokes that had no reason to be as funny as they were considering who was telling them. Sometimes at night when she couldn’t sleep… he’d sing. And weirdly, he was actually good. He’d never sing typical lullabies, no, he claimed that wasn’t his style. Instead he’d sing songs from his youth, sometimes he’d delve deep into his past and try to remember the words to When You Wish Upon A Star. But she couldn’t leave him unanswered forever, he’d keep pushing until she gave in. So she asked him a question.

“Doing what?”

The answer was immediate.

“You’re thinking negative thoughts again. I told you, I don’t like it when you do that.”

Nica furrowed her brow in confusion. Negative thoughts? It’s true, she was thinking about how pathetic she was for not being able to defend herself and losing her entire family. They weren’t overly negative, they were just factual. Why would Chucky even care? She decided to ask him, it wasn’t like he had anywhere else he had to be, he had time to answer her questions.

“Negative thoughts? Why do you even care, Charles?”

That riled him up just like she’d hoped it would.

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, it’s Chucky. Got it? Nobody’s ever full named me and lived, you’re lucky.”

But he didn’t answer her question, so she asked again.

“You’re dodging, why do you care?”

There was a prolonged period of uncomfortable silence filled only with the sound of breathing. It still felt weird to Nica that she could hear him breathing inside her head, how did the voodoo even work? Did all of his bodily functions work or was it just for effect to freak her out? He wouldn’t give her a straight answer about it, but either way it successfully kept Nica on edge. Eventually Chucky responded.

“I have to experience those thoughts too, so… I just don’t like it, happy?”

That clearly wasn’t the truth, she could tell by his hesitance. Chucky was a proud man (or doll, it wasn’t clear) but he’d started to open up more for some reason. If Nica pushed, she may get an honest response out of him. So she decided to try one more time.

“What are you not telling me?”

Even more silence. Even more heavy breathing. Nica decided to reach into his brain for a change and see what he was thinking about. His mind was a realm of darkness and chaos. His thoughts whipped around in a frenzied whirlpool, Nica found herself unable to keep anything straight. Words like ‘tell her’ and ‘the kid deserves the truth’ appeared at the forefront of his mind before disappearing again. 

With a sharp jolt, Nica was pulled from his brain, and she could almost feel him admonishing her for intruding despite him doing that every day. She knew when he’d been snooping because he would laugh or (strangely) chuckle fondly whenever Nica thought of certain memories. Before she could dwell on this further, she got a truthful answer.

“Look, I like you. You’re not bad, kid, and when you start thinking about stuff that’s kinda maybe my fault, I feel… guilty. And I don’t like feeling that way, it makes me start questioning my whole belief system, which, believe me, isn’t fun. Because deep down, I know I’m responsible for what happened to you, back before you were even born. For years I was fine with that, I never thought I’d get attached, hell, I don’t even like my own kids all that much. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry. You’d better treasure that apology Nica, cause it’s the only one you’re ever gonna get.”

Nica blinked again, this time in surprise. Chucky… liked her? And… he felt guilty? She hadn’t even known that something like that was possible, this was so weird. She didn’t like dwelling on the fact that Charles Lee Ray may just have humanity, a soul even, so she craved a distraction of some kind. Seemingly noticing this, Chucky spoke again.

“Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I stole a horse? Now, this story requires a lot of context, so bear with me here…’

[mochikeiji]

Looking Like U Got Me

Request: "Prompt no. 56 and 55 for Gojo ＼(^o^)／"

55. "You look like my husband/wife"

56. "Keep doing that and I'll marry you faster"

↠ Pairing: Gojou Satoru x Reader

↠ Warning: none! Simply fluff

↬ Word Count: 1.7k

↠ a/n: i accidentally mixed up prompts 55 and 57 ;-; but still hoping this turns out good!!

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event!

All he wanted was to wake up in bed, next to you— who would cuddle deeper in his arms even in slumber so he'd smother you with his kisses and tighten his hold around you and drift back to sleep longer, finally free of responsibilities for once and enjoy quality time with his only favorite person. But instead he wakes up with a groan passing through his lips, supporting his back side with his hand while shuffling to his side in a different position as the light sun rays shun through the window blinds, softly fanning his eye and forehead.

Gojo chuckles a bit before wincing. His lower back so tensed that he feels himself get older by the day. Pouting at the empty space next to him, he palms the cold sheet in wonder of where you are. Up so early in the morning when you could've just stayed in for him. How annoying. His eyes shut for moment when the scent coming from outside the room intruded his senses. Ah, you must be cooking breakfast. How sweet of you.

Thank goodness it wasn't another batch of dried crackers or cup of noodles that'll enter his mouth. He was never one to cook meals when he was on solo or when you weren't around. The very thought of not only the meal was awaiting for him outside, but also you excites him that it made him feel tingly inside. Call it dramatic, yeah, but it's not every day someone gets to wake up and immediately feel this full of love in the morning. You were the only and last love he's ever wanted to have in this world. It was so surreal even to him.

Sighing before pushing himself up, Gojo yawns out the remains of drowsiness in his system and stands. He didn't bother wearing a shirt since last night, claiming that he misses how his body rubs off yours in both comforting and suggestive ways. Plus it was just you and him home, he'd rather walk naked than wear the usual long sleeved uniform on a warm day.

The scent of coffee got stronger as he closes in his journey towards the kitchen. There was faint sizzling coming from the pan as you stood there in attendance. Stuck in your own little world, swaying to the sound of the radio playing, U got Me by Yung Heazy. It was one of the few songs that reminded you of Gojo back when you were both high schoolers. The exact song you remembered playing when you both hung out on a small cafe in Tokyo. Where he was so flustered, attempted to hide his blushes with his round glasses. The little things that reminded you of that memory never fails to make your heart race.

Of course Gojo knows this one as well. Because it was on that date as well he had call you, "his" after masking his embarrassment and from obviously checking you out every minute. How could he contain himself? He was a young man who was having trouble in the arts of love. Nevertheless he was glad to have grown up from those years. If his younger self could see him now, he'd be gagging at the sight of a softer version of his older self.

Snaking his arms around your torso carefully to avoid surprising you, he places his chin above your shoulder. Salivating at the sight of thick bacon in deep frying, shamelessly letting you know he was hungry from the sound of his stomach growling. "This is a nice way to greet me." you smile at the man behind you, who had his eyes closed in delight while rubbing his cheek against yours like a cat in need of attention. "Good morning to you as well, sweet cheeks." he says after  pressing a kiss on your skin.

"You got up early." whining softly, his hair and nose tickling the side of your neck and shoulder, "I was hoping to stay longer y'know?" trailing his hands underneath the his shirt you were wearing, mapping out on all the skin he could squish and hold with his large palms. Noticeably pressing himself closer to your body, the much needed space gone but you weren't complaining. After all, this was Gojo, a man who knows no boundaries.

"I wanted to make breakfast for you. We haven't had one together since we're both busy." you say as you grabbed the nearby plate, turning off the stove as the now cooked meal sizzles softly from the pan before sliding down to the porcelain surface. In attempt to lick his lips at the now prepared food, his tongue grazes upon your skin, sending you to jolt a bit, hearing the joyous laughter from him as he places a kiss on the spot as an apology.

"W-why don't you go sit down, there's rice bowls and cooked eggs prepared already." stammering, you quickly excused yourself away from his embrace to clean out the mess from the counter. Gojo sighs out the adoration but obliges to your command. Not long after you had finally settled down in front of him. Seeing him in all smiles as he scarfs down on his food made you smile as well. Thank goodness his blindfold was off, they looked adorable twinkling in happiness.

This felt nice. To have an opportunity to be a normal couple once again. So many times you could only daydream of scenarios like this. He could say the same as now that you were present on the usual spot he'd come home to empty. Often dozing off during meetings thinking of where you were or how you were, the multiple times Megumi has fed up with his whining about how he never gets to see or have more time with you. Nobara even pointed out a fact saying, "You act as if you're both married." and Yuuji, being the happy child of the three had said something that always ponder in his mind, "Why don't you marry each other yet, sensei?"

It was a statement he's been considering for a long time. Marriage. Of course Gojo wanted to marry you after years of torment love. To have his precious students say that you both already looked as if you were married got him all heart racing, and very very happy. He's had vivid images of a life with you. Not far from what it is today, but imagine. Unlimited happiness after so long of fearing it. Perhaps maybe even tiny legs running around, giving him such big love as his grows for the family he's craved, watching you smile beside the doorway and calling them in for a meal.

If marrying you means he can have that every day, then the hell with it.

"You look like my wife."

The spoon drop echoes. Slowly his face erupted into a faint blush while staring back at your widened eyes and opened mouth. "What?" gulping down the stuck food in your throat, Gojo bites his lips watching you maintain your composure. So cute. "Y-you know you say funny stuff when you're out of it. Maybe some daifuku would help? Yeah! Wait a sec." quickly getting up from your seat and rummaging in your fridge, you breathed out the heavy puff of air from your lungs.

He did not just say that so directly towards you. Maybe you were dreaming? You wouldn't be if your heart wasn't practically being forced out. Gojo is always fun and games, right? He doesn't mean that.

Sad to think of it that way.

"Ow!" thumping your head above the fridge as you grabbed some of the take outs of Daifuku you got yesterday, closing the fridge back before returning shortly to Gojo, who seemed as out of it as you were. "You did say your brain functions best when you eat sweets. Luckily for you I bought these yesterday. That's why I cooked earlier now because I wanted to try it out with you!"

Gojo can't tell if he wants to be offended at the fact that you think he was joking or just now, cover his half of his face to hide his laughter and igniting squeals. God he wished he had his phone right now, the moment was just so priceless and precious as you were.

"...ter"

Muffles from behind his hand was heard. Tilting your head to the side, trying to process what he said but no avail. "What was that?" you moved a little closer next to him, tapping his hand away almost eagerly. When he does, you spot that knowing smile present on his lips and the uncharacteristic blush still painted on his cheeks.

"Keep doing that and I'll marry you faster, honey."

You've gotten more shy when his hand held yours in the most loving way while drawing patterns. Searching through his eyes if he was playing around, but you were met with ones you know of when they were full of sincerity. "I-i. You know, they were so cheap anyways and I figured you'd want them." he snorts before leaning his head on your arm and laughs hysterically. It was painfully obvious that you were in state of shock that you couldn't even process his words.

Up until now the effect he has on you was still there like before.

"Sweetie." he turns his body away from the table to face you, pulling you so that you were standing in between his legs looking down shyly on the floor. "I'm serious." his fingers reached for your chin to pull your head up to meet his features. His other hand still holding your smaller one; index finger tracing your ring finger in circular motions as if he was creating a make believe ring.

He should thank himself for falling in love and be trusting once again.

Because now, staring back at your eyes filled with the same amount of emotions as his. Reciprocating the exact thing he was feeling. Waking up just to start the day already wanting him to be there. Knowing all the littlest things he's shared. Hearing the erratic sound of both of your heart beats.

He knew he's made the right choice.

"You really do look like my wife. My future."

© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)

[marvels-writings]

Piece of Your Heart

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

Requested by Anon: Hi would you mind terribly writing a established R/Nat fic where R was fighting Thanos with Tony and Nat thinks she got dusted because obviously Nat has heard nothing from her but really she’s been on that ship with Tony the whole time? I love your writing and I’d love reading something like that it’d make me so emotional 💖

Word Count: 2.2k (longish and an amazing mix of angst and fluff)

A/N: Damn I loved writing this, and I wrote it to a particular song so it ended up revolving around dancing more than I thought it would. It’s really good though and I hope you like it as much as I do!!

Dull white light shone down; music blanketed the room, feet shuffled across the marble floor. Reflections played in the mirrors, all showing the same image. The image of a woman with bright red hair, dancing alone, trying to fill the piece of her heart she lost.

Natasha moved elegantly across the floor, twirling and twisting where she saw necessary. She made a perfect pirouette across the floor. Shifting her weight across the pointe shoes, the redhead moved to the other side of the room with ease. Another perfect pirouette as she waited for something she knew wouldn't happen.

Strange, pirouettes are always perfect. There's never the chance for it to be flawed, for there to be a mistake. Stumbling wasn't an option for her, falling a pleasure denied. Yet, her feet faltered, losing her balance as she caught herself on the metal bar.

Staring at herself in the mirror, she saw the redness of her eyes matching her hair, the dark circles underneath her eyes. Her face, devoid of any emotion except for loss. Ignoring everything she could, she moved back to the center of the room, dancing once again.

It wasn't right without you. The room was a little too big, the music a little too quiet, Natasha's heart too empty. You'd always joked that you held a piece of her heart and she a part of yours. Never did she think the joke might be more real.

She faltered again, losing her balance without you to catch her. Sighing, she picked herself back up, trying to be the perfect pirouette they trained her to be. Her feet always fell to the side, refusing to keep balance. Reaching down, she slipped off the pointe shoes before trying again.

The cold floor served as a mild shock as she continued. She let go of being perfect; she was letting herself be flawed again, letting herself feel her loss. Her hips swayed in a broken rhythm, shuffling imperfectly across the floor. It wasn't how they trained her.

It wasn't perfect, not near it. It was how Natasha danced with you, throwing herself away to feel you.

Her skin remembered the way your hands rested on her waist, your fingers tapping a steady beat on her ribs. Her feet recalled the way you danced without rhythm, letting the music take control instead. She remembered how you hummed the tune of the song, the notes vibrating through you. She remembered the sweet nothings you whispered to her, words she'd die to hear again.

Wanting desperately to feel your presence, even the ghost of your touch, she reached out her arms, pretending they were around her as she swayed from side to side. Her eyes fluttered shut, seeing you rather than the darkness of her eyelids.

The way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, the lines on your face as you lit up in a bright grin. The way the light always hit your face in just the right way, making you look like an angel. Maybe you were an angel, one that she couldn't be sure was truly gone.

Natasha had almost begged you not to go after Tony. She should've known she could never convince you out of saving someone. If only you were here to save her now. She didn't know if you were dusted, gone like the rest of her family, or just lost in space, waiting to be whole again.

For now, part of her was whole again. She could almost feel your breath across her neck as you rested your head on her shoulder. You felt so near to her, even if it was just for a blissful few seconds. Natasha let her eyes remain shut, dancing by herself, clinging onto to ghost of you.

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

Soft music played from your earbuds, enveloping you in a dream of their own rather than your nightmarish reality. The beat reminded you of dancing slowly with someone you loved. You leaned back in one of the seats, letting your eyes flutter shut as you absorbed yourself into another daydream.

Everything about her came back to you when you closed your eyes. It was almost a nightmare to keep them open, to keep yourself occupied in an awful place without her. The ship was so devoid of color, filled with dull blue and purple hues rather than the bright red you craved oh so desperately.

Curling into yourself, you pulled the jacket around your shoulders tighter, trying to keep any warmth you could. It was colder when you were daydreaming rather than working. Maybe remembering what you might have lost can take away from what you have.

Now, you didn't have much. A crashing ship with a billionaire from Earth and one of the daughters of Thanos. At least everything would be over tomorrow. No more crushing daydreams of the past, no more hopeful dreams of Natasha being with you.

You heard Tony record another message for Pepper in a different part of the ship. Pulling out your earbuds with a sigh, you decided to do the same. Looking around to make sure the words you only intended for her, you took out a piece of your suit.

Never had you meant for it to function in this way. Never did you think it would record a dying message. With a sigh and a heavy heart, you propped it in front of you and set it to scan you. It was going to take a hologram, to record not only your words but also your movements.

Taking another minute, you pulled your hair back into a ponytail, trying to look better for her. Leaning back in the chair, you let out another sigh as it beeped. Now that you were about to record your words, you didn't know what to say.

Should you tell her you're sorry? It would be a lie to say that; you wanted to help your family, you don't regret that. You regret leaving her alone, but not leaving. Biting your lip, you started speaking in a vain hope that the right words would come to you.

"Hey Tasha," You began, breathing in and looking away from the hologram. "If and hopefully when you find this recording, please don't show it to anyone else."

Chuckling, you turned towards the recorder again. Now, you didn't know what to say to Natasha. You tried to imagine that she was here, sitting in front of you, waiting. Instead of her apprehension, all you could see was her beauty. It all made you only miss her more.

"I miss you. So damn much Tasha." You continued, running a hand through your ponytail. "I always dreamt of going to space, but now that I'm here."

"It's so lonely without you here."

The void of space stared back at you when you turned away. It taunted you, keeping you away from whom you wanted most. Letting you stare into the emptiness of it instead of the fullness of your dreams. Tearing your eyes away; you turned back to the recorder.

"I thought that if I left, we could have that happy ending when I come back." You continued, trying desperately to put into words what you felt. "But now, I don't know if we're ever going to have that ending."

Your eyes fluttered shut, letting you into a surreal daydream; the house you'd imagined buying lined the inside of your eyelids. Natasha joined you on the large patio set, her arms around your waist as you looked outside. Maybe you had children. They would be running around the front yard, calling out to you while your wife whispered sweet nothings.

It all faded into silence as you took another step into reality. The silence surrounded you, taking away any hope, any dreams you might have ever had. Taking the last step into this dreaded nightmare, you fell back into this reality.

"Tony and Nebula are here with me," you croaked, trying to change the topic. Bringing yourself back, you took another deep breath as your dreams faded back into the void you'd been staring. You began talking about them instead; everything they were trying to do, letting it distract you for a treasured few moments.

It helped, just for a bit. A minute passed while you talked about them, stopping with a loud sigh. You bit your lip, clawing through your memories for something, anything else to talk about. All you saw was her.

"I wish I could dance with you," You whispered, biting your lip tightly. The familiar sting of tears came to your eyes at the memory. You shook your head, clearing yourself of it, adamant not to cry. Leaning forward, you tapped on the recorder.

"If and when this is all over," You whispered, offering a timid smile. The memory came back to you again, this time you didn't stop it. You paused, letting all of your emotions wash over you.

The timid, lovesick smile as your hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer to you. Her warm breath fanning across your face as you leaned your foreheads together. The tingle of her eyelashes fluttering against yours. Her whispers of love and adoration as you swayed slowly, dancing.

"I'll always be dreaming of dancing with you."

The recording stopped, your fingers pressing the small red button. Pulling away from it, you leaned back in the chair again, tugging your jacket tighter around you. The cold seeped back into you, leaking into your bones, making you shiver.

Sighing, you curled further into yourself, forcing yourself to sleep. Maybe if you weren't awake, it would be over faster. It wasn't, you kept clearing your mind of your dreams just to fall asleep. Eventually, you were, oblivious to the world around you.

That was until a rumbling brought you back.

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

The same rumbling sounded where Natasha was dancing. Her motions stopped at the sound, looking outside the window hopefully. Nothing was there, just the same pitch-black she had grown accustomed to. A glow emanated from above it, casting everything in a light golden tint.

Her feet pounded the floor as she rushed out the door, towards the glow. The sound was accompanied by feet following her, rushing as much as she was. Steve and Pepper rushed behind her. All for the small sliver of hope that someone else survived the snap and made it home.

It's strange how hope is always associated with light. It's as if Natasha had wandered in the dark, stumbling her way through till hope showed her the way out. You can never truly find anything in the darkness without the slightest shred of hope, of light.

The light was what she ran towards, staring up at the glowing ship as it touched down on the grass outside the compound. Her heart thudded in her chest, watching as the ship's doors opened. Three sets of feet appeared, walking and stumbling down the steps.

Tony leaned against a blue woman, staggering slowly down the steps. His bones are shown through his tank top, cuts on his face bleeding. His eyes were dull, glancing around the compound, lighting up only when they stumbled across Pepper.

Steve ran up to him, helping him off and talking to him. But all she could see was you, stumbling out of the ship by yourself.

Your hand clung desperately to the railing, not wanting help but needing it anyway. The t-shirt you wore was a few sizes too big, your skin had lost some of its tone, your hair messy and in a ponytail. It was still you, you who had promised her a happy ending.

Natasha ran up to you, breathing erratic, heartbeat pounding in her ears as she wrapped her arms around you. Her breath hit your neck, followed by hot tears on your shirt. Your arms wrapped around her tightly, your face tucked into the crook of her neck, breathing her in.

The redhead shook in fear, scared she was going to let go of you again, scared you were going to disappear. She was terrified you were going to leave her dancing alone in the dark again, without even the dream of you to keep her warm.

But there you were, your skin warm to the touch as her fingers sneaked up your shirt. Your skin against her palms, warm as you moved with every breath. You were there, the light she needed to see.

You clung onto her as tightly, using all your strength to keep her close. Everything about her was so warm, so full that you were sure you could never feel empty again. Your hands stroked the length of her back, providing whatever reassurance you could muster.

Natasha held you close, pulling her head away to look at you. Your face was gaunt, your eyes hollow, but full of so much love and longing, for her. Your hand slipped from her shoulders, resting above her collarbone as you wiped the tears off of her face.

Smiling to yourself, you swayed from side to side, dancing with her. Natasha pulled away slowly, looking at you in curiosity as you rested her forehead against hers. Her hands around your waist kept you up, moving slowly on the grass. The exhaustion would take over you soon, but she wanted to keep this moment a little longer.

Heaven couldn't hold a candle to this, to how whole you felt around each other. It was truly as if a piece of your heart resided with each other. It would tear you apart to be away from each other. But for now, maybe even forever, you could dance.

A/N: Tell me what you think!! Reblogs and comments are amazing!!

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver​, @versdan​, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught​, @lovebotlarson​, @dhengkt​, @hstoria​, @natasha-danvers​, @veryfunnyal​, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ , @ophelias-heart​  , @never-didbefore​ , @justarandomhumanhere​, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn​ , @lesbian-x-blackwidow​ , @marvelbbyx​ , @wlw-imaginesss​ , @hcartbyheart​​ , @summergeezburr​​ , @imnotasuperhero​  , @a-stressedstudent​ , @aaron-despair​ , @rooskaya-yelena​ , @dynnealberto , @thewitchandtheassassin , @wannabe-fic-reader​ , @izalesbean​, @higherfurther-romanova​  , @natalia-quinzel​  , @blackxwidowsxwife​   let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

[supercorpkid]

Mind Controlled – The Series.

Part 4 – There’s no forgiveness.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader.

Word count: 2190.

Warning: Injuries, pain, angst.

Previously on the series - part 1, part 2, part 3

Kara lands in the backyard when the first ray of the sun hits the sky. You’re still glued to her, covered in blood, sweat and tears. Your throat hurts like you’ve been screaming for hours straight. Your mind feels lazy, like for some reason you’ve lost part of your brain function. There’s blood coming out of several parts of your body, and you don’t know how any of those bruises ended up on you.

“Water, please.” You beg, when Kara goes inside the house and she takes you to the kitchen, still carrying your floppy body everywhere. You look at the kitchen wall. Bricks exposed, dust and broken parts on the floor and you gasp at the image imprinted on the wall. “I hurt you.”

“No, baby.” Kara sits you on the stool. She grabs water and pours cereal into a bowl for you. You don’t move. You can’t take your eyes from the wall. “You know I have super strength. You didn’t hurt me.”

“But I tried to.” You drink the water, so your mind gets occupied with something. What have you done? “Where’s mom? Did I hurt her too?”

“Baby.” Kara goes to you, and holds your face, gently. “I know you don’t remember anything, but you have to believe me. You didn’t hurt a single soul, ok?” You want to agree, but it’s hard because you really don’t remember if it’s true. “Eat something. You really need to shower this blood off, and you need some sleep.”

“But-” You try to argue, but Kara doesn’t want to talk anymore. So you look to the floor, finding impossible to stare at the wall and the proof you’ve acted like a monster. “Oh my God.”

“What, baby?” Kara follows your eyes to the floor.

“Mom’s vase. I broke mom’s vase.” You get up from the stool, stumbling your way to the vase. You fall on the floor, collecting one of the pieces. “She loved this.”

“My love, it’s just a vase.” Kara makes her way to where you are, crouching next to you.

“But you brought as a gift from that time you went to Japan, and she… SHE LOVES THIS!” You cry, trying to collect every piece, bleeding on the porcelain. “She will never forgive me.”

“Baby, no, no.” Kara takes the broken pieces from your hands, and picks you up. “That’s enough of self-loathing, come on.” She sits on the stool again. “Eat, please.”

You do as she told you to. It doesn’t take long until you’re clean and wrapped up in blankets and Kara’s arms, and you fall into a turbulent, but still needed sleep.

When you wake up, it’s the middle of the afternoon. You make your way to the kitchen, feeling equally shitty on the outside, but at least you can stand up now. On the inside you feel worse, like you have done things so horrible your brain is refusing to let you remember them. It sits heavy on your stomach and on your heart. You hope to Rao you haven’t done something irredeemable.

You walk in the kitchen and look around. Kara already cleaned the vase, and even though the wall is still broken, she somehow managed to make it look less like her body-shape. There’s so much food waiting for you, it looks like Kara is trying to feed a Kryptonian army.

“Hey, baby. Got some rest?” Kara comes closer, and she grabs your hands, studying them for the marks there. She looks at the marks on your wrists, and even lifts your shirt to look at the raw flesh of your ribcage, to make sure your injuries are better. They are not. “You need sunlight.”

“Momma, I’m not a sunflower.” You huff, while Kara picks you up again, taking you to the backyard, to the table there.

“Yes, you are.” She jokes and you look up to her while pouting.

“You are a sunflower.” You cross your arms, making Kara laugh.

She comes back into the house to pick up the food, and a few seconds later most of the food is in front of you.

“Where’s mom?” You ask, looking around, and since you don’t have your glasses, you can use your x-ray vision. “You said I didn’t hurt her, so why isn’t she home yet?”

“You didn’t hurt anyone, but you broke some stuff.” Kara grabs one slice of pizza, and sits next to you. Your eyes grow bigger.

“Besides her vase?” You still can’t forgive yourself for that. Kara nods. “What else?”

“Your training center.” She sighs, and your eyes are filled with tears right away. “You burnt it, actually.”

“I’m so sorry!” You cover your face with your hands, feeling embarrassed and sad. You loved going there and practicing with aunt Alex and your momma. Why the hell did you do that for?

“It wasn’t you.” Kara pulls you into a hug, and kisses your forehead. “You didn’t want to do or say any of those things. We know, baby.”

“But-” You tried to argue, still not understanding.

“Baby, you were mind controlled.” Kara breathes out her answer. “You did things you didn’t mean to. Someone else was pulling the strings. None of that was inside of you, none of that was what you once thought or wanted to do, ok?”

“Is that why I don’t remember a thing about it?” You ask, confused. Kara agrees with her head, and you look down trying to think. That’s a good thing. To know none of that was inside of you, and to know you didn’t mean to do any of that. But still, somebody used your body and your memories to hurt the ones you loved and the places you love, so that is terrifying. You look up to her again. “Someone, who?”

“Lex.” Kara lets out and you agree with your head, not wanting to hear anything else.

Ok, so you didn’t physically hurt anyone, but you know Lex (or at least his reputation), so you know that he probably found other ways to hurt people. And Lena, poor Lena, was probably his first choice for that, because he genuinely hates her.

You really want to apologize, so you can’t wait until Lena to get home for you to do so. But she doesn’t come. You wait and wait, but Lena never arrives. You probably screwed up with her big time.

Kara keeps reassuring you that you didn’t, that none of it it’s your fault, but it can’t be true. So, one day Lex mind controls you to beat up your momma, destroy important places to you, and you’re supposed to believe this has nothing to do with Lena not coming home to you?

You wake up before Kara does, and you go to the kitchen to make her breakfast, so you can somehow apologize for whatever it is that happened on the day and night before. You make her all of her favorites, and leave a note under a flower on the counter for when she wakes up.

You are the sunflower.

You don’t wait for her to wake up, though. Your heart has been desperate for hours wanting to see your mom and have her forgiveness and feel her comfort. There’s nothing more comforting in the world than Lena’s hands on your hair while you place your head on her lap.

You listen to her heartbeat, and you go to her. You land on Lena’s balcony at L Corp, looking inside to where she is sitting on the couch. You also notice other things: Her overnight bag pushed to the side, untouched food in front of her, her red eyes and puffy cheeks. It breaks your heart all the more.

“Mom.” You go to her, kneeling on the floor in front of her and placing your head on her lap. “Please, forgive me. Please.”

“Come on, baby, stand up.” Lena tries to hold your hand, but you settle on her lap, weeping mercifully.

“I don’t know what I said, or did, but I know I’ve hurt you. Please, please, forgive me.” You ask between the tears and the cracks in your voice. Lena’s hands go to your head. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

“It wasn’t you.” Lena strokes your hair, gently. “It was Lex mind controlling you. Babygirl, I’m not angry. Everything is ok.”

You lift your head so you can look at her. Lena gives you a sad little smile, while cleaning the tears on your face.

“But-but you’re here.” You look around. “You’re not home, because you can’t be around me anymore.”

“What? Baby, no!” Lena holds your arms gently, making you stand and sit next to her. She gives you a comforting hug, that feels too nice to be fake. And cups your face, right after. “This has nothing to do with you. Do you hear me?”

“I don’t understand.” You furrow your brows, looking scared and lost. “You’re sleeping in your office at L Corp right after I was turned into a monster. How can this have nothing to do with me?”

“Babygirl, do you trust me?” Lena asks. Her eyes flicker, anxiously, studying your face, like she’s afraid of your answer.

“More than myself.” It’s your most truthful sentence. She gives you a soft smile.

“Then believe me when I tell you, I’m not mad at you, and I’m not here because I can’t be around you.” She strokes your cheeks with her thumbs. “I love you more than anything, and I’m very, extremely, deeply happy that my baby is back.”

“I am.” You repeat, agreeing with your head. “Then, please come back home.”

“I can’t.” She kisses your forehead, and then lets go of your face. “Not now, anyways.”

“Mom.” You try, but she shakes her head like she’s telling you to stop this conversation.

“Please, have breakfast with me?” She asks turning to the food before you, and even though you already ate, you refuse to say no and let her eat alone.

When you’re finished eating, and you see that Lena actually ate something, you decide to pick the subject back again.

“Mom, I know I was mind controlled, but, um, I need to make sure I didn’t physically hurt you or said anything too painful.” She looks at you, pointing at herself, like she’s saying that she’s not hurt. “Right. And the second part?”

“Baby, I told you. The things you said? All Lex.” She kisses your forehead again. “Stop worrying.” You wish it was that simple. That you could just simply stop worrying, but you look at her face, you see the sadness in her eyes, and you know you would do anything to make her happy again.

Your phone starts ringing and she looks at it, reading the name in it.

“Answer it, so Kara doesn’t worry about you.” She says, and you furrow your brows.

Kara. Heart beating fast. Breath stuck in her lungs.

“Hey, momma.”

“Kid, where are you? You made all this breakfast and left me here to eat alone?”

“Came to check upon mom.”

“Oh, um, right. How-How is Lena?”

Lena. Choking on her words. Dear Rao. This isn’t about you at all.

“Sleeping at her office, so not great.”

Lena raises an eyebrow at you, and you hear Kara sucking on air.

“You guys want to tell me something?” You ask on the phone while looking at Lena.

“We’ll talk when you get home.” You hear Kara’s voice, and then the dial tone. You lower your phone and keep waiting for Lena’s response.

“It has nothing to do with you.” Lena says, holding your hands, and stroking your bruises lightly. “This is between me and your momma only, ok?”

“Mom, please, come home. Whatever it is, you two need to talk.” You ask, and she shakes her head in denial.

“Please baby. Let’s not talk about it.” Even though she added the ‘please’ you know it’s not a request. You know your mom, and you can see it on her face that you better drop the subject right now, or you will make things worse.

So, it seems that none of your moms are mad at you, or sad about the things you’ve said and done. It looks like it has nothing to do with you, and it’s a fight between them.

Alex also doesn’t seem to care, when you see her in the middle of the week, she just smiles and waves at you. She doesn’t even want to listen to your apology, she just cuts you off with a “kiddo, save that apology for a time you do this with your worst intentions. This wasn’t your fault, so I don’t need no apology.”

And you wish that could go into your brain and make you forgive yourself for the things that you know, now, you’ve done. But there’s still exposed bricks on your kitchen wall, there’s still no place for you to practice, and there’s still no Lena in your house. And as the week goes on and on, and you don’t know if she’ll ever come back, there’s no forgiveness you can give to yourself.

[falloutjay]

Stan x anxious/compassionate reader (kind of has a little canon divergence)

After giving up on Wendy (around Season 12), Stan and us start dating, we were always worried about him (no we weren't dating him out of pity, we were just a very anxious person). Some people find of clingy, others find us adorable but We've never left his side:

Ex: We were by his side helping with whales (Whale W)

We were the only one who didn't leave him when he got depression (You're Getting Old/Ass Burgers)

Next to Heidi, we became social pariah because we didn't want to dump Stan (this even made Wendy guilty)

But him moving, really gets to us, the coronavirus makes it worse. We get worried about him, then we start getting worried about everyone else as everything falls apart (Kyle, Kenny, Eric, Butters, Tweek, Craig, Scott, etc.) And we pass out of stress. About waking up in the hospital, we find out, everyone was worried about us. And Stan is the most worried of all, he spends the whole day with us. We tal-no vent about all the happened to the both of us. By the end of it, we agree that whatever happens we'll do it together.

Guess whos back! :D

Well, while it's not my best work, in my humble opinion, I sure hope you enjoy and like it. Again sorry for the delay! ಥ_ಥ

And if it's not that clear, because I know I can write a little cryptic, there is a time skip. You can either have all the show events happen when they are children and have the time skip between Covid and the memories or between you getting together as kids and the memories. Choose however you like! ^^

_________________________________________

Stan x anxious!compassionate!Reader

Tiny eyes watched the scene unfold.

Normally, Wendy was the one to break up with Stan, but not this time around. Stan was actually telling Wendy that he had no interest in her anymore.

“What changed Stan?” Wendy asked, obviously confused.

“I think I like someone else… I don’t know yet…”

Wendy gave him a smile.

“I wish you all the luck Stan, say if you need anything!”

“I will.” And with that, Wendy took off to be with her friends, while Stan turned a corner and told Kyle and Kenny how it went.

Cartman was there too, but he only wanted to know if she cried, because “she would deserve it.”.

You closed your locker and felt your heartbeat like crazy. Ever since you changed school a few months ago, Stan captured your little ten-year-old mind.

He was kind and showed you around when you had no idea where to go. It was a little crush you developed, and you never felt as scared and excited as now, since that Stan had broken off with Wendy.

This newfound feeling almost made you dizzy but you quickly snapped back into reality when you heard your name.

“Y/N?” Stan asked and waited patiently for his answer next to you.

“Oh, sorry, I was thinking, what did you want?”

“Would you maybe like to hang out some time?”

Stan almost got a heart attack when you suddenly squealed but was happy when you managed to get a high-pitched “YES!” out.

“Okay, what are you betting Kenny? Some Pennies or a dead rat?” Cartman almost fell from his chair laughing about his shitty joke, while Kyle and Kenny rolled their eyes.

“Don’t you think it’s weird how clingy they are?” Kyle asked his blonde friend, while they kept watching you and Stan, who were seated at a separate table at lunch.

“Honestly, I think it’s pretty cute.” Kenny said with his muffled voice.

You held his arm and hugged him from the side, while he happy kept on eating his lunch.

Eric, who had now calmed down from his laugh attack eyed the couple critically. “I’m giving them a month max.”

He said lazily and looked around. “I say longer than a year.” Kenny said, throwing a crinkled five-dollar note on the table.

“You two are horrible.” Kyle shook his head before he threw 10 dollars on the table.

“Four months.”

Kenny was a happy man after a year, because despite everyone believing you two would eventually break up, you never did.

You were always by his side, no matter what.

His desire to desperately save whales with the help of a braindead ship crew?

You were always right by his in the interviews he gave.

His horrible depression that even drove Kyle away? No chance, you stood strong and helped him through the whole thing and even help reuniting the gang.

Even during the protest against Skanthunt42, you chose to sit this one out, despite you absolutely hating that the troll photoshopped a dick into your mother’s mouth.

At least you and Heidi got close due to you guys both becoming social outcasts. When Wendy heard this, she was impressed by your dedication and felt somewhat guilty for obviously not trying as much in her former relationship.

Everyone admired your patience and endurance. No matter what obstacle came, you managed to get through it.

“You don’t need to be sad, Y/N. I won't be that far away.” Stan said, holding your hand.

“B-But it's outside of town. You need ages by bike to get there and vice versa.” You said, holding back tears.

Randy walked past you and you desperately pleaded to him.

“Please Mister Marsh, please stay in town!” Randy put the box he carried into the car, before turning to you.

“Real sorry, dear Y/N. This town is…How do I put it… Absolute shit and I really want to get away.”

He patted you on the head and went back into the house to get more boxes.

“Told you, you cant talk to him.” Stan said and shrugged.

“But it’s unfair. We won’t see each other as much anymore.” Stan pressed a kiss onto your cheek, which made you blush intensely.

“Don’t. Worry. I will make time for you.”

With that in mind, you didn’t feel as sad, when the car with the Marsh Family in it left for their new home.

“I will make time for you, my ass.” You mumbled while you sat at a bench near Starks Pond. Letting out a deep sigh, you leaned back and just enjoyed the warmth of the setting sun.

Covid was one hell of a bitch and just had to have this big impact on everyone’s life. Stan and you now saw each other less and less.

It was just a horrible feeling that tainted your heart and made you worry a lot.

Maybe he was feeling just as bad as you are, maybe even more?

Maybe he just didn’t want to tell you how he felt?

Were you maybe a bad partner? Your mind began racing and your train of thoughts became unrailed.

So many bad thoughts manifested themselves and it made you almost gasp for air.

“I need to check on him.” You mumbled getting up from the park bench.

You began walking and you kind of hoped that maybe just the walking would get your mind in check, but sadly it didn’t. Involuntarily you had to think about all the other stuff that happened during this horrible time.

The precious Broship was more fragile than ever. You had become such good friends with Kenny, Kyle and Cartman over time that it hurt you a lot too.

You also saw Covid take a toll on your other friends, like Craig and his group, who now took Cartman into their gang after the split up.

However, that came to be…

The girls were also pretty divided, so hanging out with them meant picking sides which wasn’t your thing, you kinda just want them to get along again.

Everything felt like it was falling apart. Your parents had fights ever so often, all your friends had problems and your beloved boyfriend was stuck on that stupid farm.

God how you hated that stupid farm and Randy.

When he gave you one of those plushies that looked like him, you functioned it into a voodoo doll. But sadly, it didn’t seem to affect him, no matter how many needles you rammed into it.

Your heart felt heavy, and it seemed hard to breathe, but you brushed it aside.

You had already reached the busy streets of South Park and mingled between the newly vaccinated people.

Everywhere you looked, the people seemed happy.

Everyone was happy except you and the people around you… Maybe…You were the problem?

You shook your head. No, you didn’t allow those kinds of thoughts.

You much rather think about Stan. How you miss him and how amazing your dates were.

Oh, how much effort he put into all the small things… Well… At least he did.

Now that you thought about it when was your last date?

It feels like it had been ages. It has been ages. Everything had been ages. Going out with him, hanging out with your friends, your family not fighting… How long has this been the new normal? You can’t help but wonder.

Your heart clenched again. “Stop it, stupid heart.” You mumbled under your breath.

An exhausted sigh escaped your lips when you thought about how you maybe had to walk all the way up to the farm… It would take ages, but you really craved being held by the person you adored so much.

So, you continued walking down through the street when an elder lady stopped you.

“Excuse me, but you look rather sickly, are you alright?” Confused you raised an eyebrow. Did the vaccines make them delusional?

“No, I’m fine.” You answered, somewhat snippy, even when you didn’t know why you were so agitated.

“But you look rather pale, maybe you- I am fine.” You interrupted her and continued your path.

Were all people in this shitty town stupid or- The thought could not be completed, due to you suddenly losing consciousness.

When you woke up again, you immediately recognized one of the Hells Pass Hospital rooms, once your eyes had adjusted to the bright lights. Around the bed were your parents and more importantly Stan and his mother.

“Thank God, you’re awake again!” Your mother said when she went for a hug.

Confused you asked why you were here.

“Well, seemingly you were so stressed out, that your body basically shut down.”

Somewhat shocked you looked around. Was it really a surprise to hear that? Not really, but it still felt odd knowing that it happened.

“Well, I’m glad you’re fine, Y/N.” Misses Marsh commented and smiled warmly at you. She had always liked you and you felt the same. She was always nice to you and you felt like she was the only one with a brain in the family…

Feeling a sudden sensation of warmness on your hand, your eyes darted down to it. Stan held you hand while answering something your dad had asked him.

“Well, Sharon, you wanna accompany us to get some hot chocolate for us all?”

Your mother said with an odd wink, which made you and Stan roll your eyes.

The three adults left the room chatting happily. Stan looked at you with a stern expression, which kind of surprised you.

“I swear, whenever I think I couldn’t get more worried about you, your parents call me, to tell me that you’re in the hospital.”

“Worried? About me? I should be worried about you?” You laughed to which Stan shook his head.

“Listen, everyone has been super worried about you since you seemed so down and just exhausted. Like, Kyle already called me earlier to ask if you’re awake again. I don’t know why you worry about me; I am really fine babe. Promise.”

With that said, the door opened, and your parents came back inside.

“Y/N, the doctor said they would like you to stay the night, so they can check that you’re really alright.” Your father informed you and you were immediately annoyed.

Well, you had no choice but to oblige. Your parents left after an hour, wanting to get you some clothes and other things you’d need.

Sharon also bids her goodbye and so you and Stan were left.

And just like you wished, you got to cuddle with him. He held you close, and you vented to him, how worried you were about everything and everyone, while he told you just how worried all of your friends had been since you were acting so out of character.

“Even Cartman?”

“Yup, even when he would never admit it.” Stan laughed. He held your hand tight, and his content smile never left his face.

“I think we should talk more about feelings and being worried and all that. I know I’m not all that good at it, but I don’t ever wanna have to visit you in a hospital again.” Stan said, giving your hand a squeeze.

“That sounds good. But you gotta accept, I worry a lot, because I care a lot about you, okay?” You said sternly and Stan nodded. You two looked fondly at each other and just enjoyed the time you got.

“Together forever?” You asked and he whispered “Forever.”, before he pressed a sweet kiss onto your lips.

[cryinginthebackseat]

you’ve got more poison than sugar - part i

AO3    part ii

Fandom: Call Of Duty 

Pairing: Russell Adler x Bell

Words: 4.009

Summary: Russell Adler should have known better that it wouldn’t take an entire nation or continent to bring him to his knees.

Warnings: just swearings, sexual tension, blood, mentions of past abuse and brainwashing. adler being that manipulative asswipe like usual. 

Author’s note: i don't know what i'm doing. one moment, i was watching the walkthrough of the new call of duty game, found myself curious, acutely curious by that guy with the scars and shades on- a younger, shadier (no pun intended) Robert Redford in Spy Game and oh my... fast forward to 2 weeks later, here we are.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A house somewhere on foreign soil,

Where ageless lovers call,

Is this your goal, your final needs,

Where dogs and vultures eat,

Committed still I turn to go.

I put my trust in you.

A Means To An End - Joy Division (1980)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It's mystifying how little she talks. Or when she does, it's always in fragments. Like a crossword puzzle in your local newspaper, but several letters are missing. He initially thought maybe MK-Ultra fucked her head or worse, if it hasn't worked at all, but the more he watches her, the more he realizes it's just the way she is. And it's ironic because he named her Bell. He expected her to chime like a goddamn goldfinch yet here they are. 

But he won't be fazed. Russell Adler is a man who's stopped at nothing in getting what he wanted before, he sure as hell won't stop now for a close-mouthed science project.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“We've got a job to do, Bell."

It intrigues him, every time, the way the words trigger something deep within her psyche, the way her eyes change, her body stands a little straighter, like a machine ready to function at his disposal. It reminds Adler of one of those cartoons he watched when he was a kid about wizards and magic words, except there are no musical dance numbers playing in the background or a talking cricket perching on his shoulder. This is his power over her, over the USSR, over Perseus. That monstrous filth. It really does take a beast to tame another. 

Although he surmises calling Bell one would be superfluous. 

She barely looks like one, but Adler knows too well than to underestimate her. Just because Bell hasn’t shown her set of claws, that doesn’t mean she’s harmless, delicate, like a miniature China Doll in his breast pocket.

Bell never offered him her reply before, but now, now, she nods, head almost bows, obedient pretty thing, and says:

“Yes, Adler.”

So it goes.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It takes West Berlin for Adler to realize she’s left-handed. 

She wears her watch on her right hand, smokes with that same said hand only when she’s writing or moving her pieces for an impromptu late-night game of chess against Lazar. And she always wears her gloves all the time- leather, black, lined with silk and pretty, small buttons on the cuffs, covering those striking red nails underneath. Whether it is for the theatrics or an old habit of hers, he can't really tell.

He doesn’t know why he begins to take notice of these mundane details about Bell, but rationalizes because he’s never been in the same room with this version of her, post-brainwash Bell, for more than 10 minutes. And for all intents and purposes, there’s still a lot of question marks surrounding her character; who is she? Where did she come from? What is her connection to Perseus? 

Are they in a possession of a walking, breathing bomb about to destroy them all or the West’s only salvation?

He supposes he’ll find out soon enough.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Adler hears Bell from his table, typing busy on the computer- barely blinking- all soaked up in that caffeine-infused energy at 1 am. She's always like that, he learns, when it comes to working, always with that steel determination, pulling out all the stops as long as it gets the job done- that Soviet discipline at it's finest.

Reminds him a little of himself when he's young.

Adler walks up to her. 

“You done for the night?” A shake of her head is her only response. He sighs. “You should go home, Bell.” 

“You go. I’ll lock up behind you,” Bell replies, low and monotone; that youthful stubborn.

If she was any other person, he would probably commend her for such fierce willpower, but she is Bell, the walking conundrum, his ace in the hole. Call him paranoid, but the idea of her having the safehouse for herself does nothing but raises every alarm in his head.

“No, we’re going home,” he says instead, tone brooking no argument and she frowns at the screen, her fingers stop moving then looks up at him with those goddamn empty eyes. "Come on, it's late anyway."

She doesn't say anything. Adler wishes he could read her mind- or crack that lovely skull on the back of her head, dissect her brain, learn its secrets and answers. 

Adler has his gun with him. It wouldn’t take long. A quick, true shot to the heart to keep the brain intact. He’d have Hudson contact one of his people inside BND and he'd deliver the brain himself if he has to. They could do it. He heard they’ve been studying inmates' brains for decades now, anyway. 

Before he has a chance to entertain the idea further, though, Bell nods once and rises up from her seat. 

Bell walks past him. Her scent, like honeysuckle on ice, hits him like an uppercut in the face. Adler inhales, as if against his will. 

He thinks he could get drunk on it.

“Hop in. I’ll drive you back to the hotel,” he says once they’re outside, regretting the decision the moment the words left his lips, but he knows he can’t just leave her on her own at this late hour.

The irony isn’t lost on him, though, considering he just thought about unspooling her brain a few minutes ago.

Bell complies without a protest. Getting inside the passenger seat, wordless still, fingers toying with the radio. An angry, krautrock music comes blaring all over his car. Adler winces, but at least the riot is loud enough to muffle the one's brewing in his head. 

"How's your memory these days?" 

Bell shrugs. "Nihil novi sub sole." There's nothing new under the sun.

Good, he muses. The least she knows about herself the better.

Though that doesn't mean he's out of the woods yet.

"Listen, from now on, I want you to keep me informed if there's any new progress about your memory or if you've developed any new symptoms. I want to know everything." He steals a sidelong glance at her, making sure she is listening (she always does, but Adler needs an excuse)

(An excuse for what?)

"Alright, Bell?"

"Of course," replies the woman in question.

"Good." Adler shifts his attention back to the road. "Good." Taking a long drag, he considers trying to appeal to her sentimental side. It's not something you'd improvise last minute- at least not with someone you brainwashed to believe you are her mentor/confidant for the past decade, but he's itching to know where he stands with her.

"You know, I'm just tryin' to look out for you, kid."

Her lips twitch but the rest of her visage remains impassive and faraway, more like a flick knife than a woman. The correlation is uncanny.

That's when she inches closer. The space between them bridged. He freezes. Hyper-aware of just how dangerous this is, but can’t bring himself to pull back, to look the other way. Not when her hand reaches out to pluck the cigarette from his mouth, eyes still glued to his, and curls her lips around the filter. One heavy pull, and then she rolls down the window and tosses it out on the side of the road.

"Thought I'd reciprocate the sentiment."

And with that, she leans back in her seat before Adler could even process what has just transpired.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Welcome back to the land of the living, kid,” Adler greeted her, about a month ago. 

Park had insisted that he had to be there for her when she woke up (naturally, Adler had balked at the idea, but at the English woman’s fact-of-the-matter explanation, also because it had somewhat dawned on him last minute the logic behind her machinations- “both of you are supposed to have known each other for years now. If she doesn't see you by her side, she’s going to wonder why”- thus, here he was)

“How are you feeling?” 

Bell blinked owlishly and stared at the older man with those bottomless, cat-like eyes that had haunted him since January.

Her gaze eventually softened as recognition flickered across her face.

“Like someone just hit me in the chest with a bulldozer,” she said hoarsely. “Where are we?”

“St. Dismas’ hospital, Pittsburgh.” Adler got up and fetched her a glass of water from the table. “Although not a bulldozer, but bullets did. That, and you hit your head really hard on your way down. Thought we’d lost you there, Bell.”

Bell drank in silence. She’s still watching him, thinking. This was the first time he realized that he couldn’t exactly read her expression and somehow that threw him off.

“What happened?” she asked, one hand mid-air, like she was deciding which to touch first, hesitating and abandoned the idea. 

“You don’t remember?” She shook her head. Adler pretended to look remotely distressed about it. “The doctors warned me about this. It must have been because of the fall- heck, I could even still hear that sickening crunch from here.” He dragged his chair closer towards her bed.

“We were in Amsterdam. Remember Fohler?” she shook her head again. “Well, we’d been tracking this son of a bitch for months, but we were chasing him in Amsterdam. He was running away and climbed up some scaffolding. You were about to go up after him,” he recited the fabricated story he, Park and Hudson had crafted. “He shot you and you fell and hit your head against the pavement.”

Bell looked away first, silent. Her hand gingerly touched the back of her head and winced, albeit only slightly. 

Adler was almost impressed, if not, disarmed by how calm and composed her reaction was to all of this. But then again, after having had witnessed first-hand how the woman barely flinched under any kind of interrogation technique they threw at her- a personality built for wrestling tigers- he really shouldn’t be surprised. 

“Bell, what is the last thing you remember?”

Bell frowned. “Not much. I remember ‘Nam, but-”

“Vietnam? Kid, that was thirteen years ago.” Adler watched the way her throat bopped, like she was swallowing her own blood and the color drained from her face, just like the first time he’d seen her, and proceeded to drop the bomb:

“Bell, the year is 1981.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Bell dear, would you mind taking a look at this?" 

Park's voice sails from across the room. She says it like it's a compound word: Bell-dear. Like the two words belong together. Bell-dear. 2 syllables, 1 word, 9 characters and that just might be the weirdest thing he hears this year and he heard many things.

"Bell dear?" Adler asks much later, his gravel-and-smoke voice reduced to a whisper, when she delivers a document to his table.

Park shrugs as if that explains everything. "What? I like her." 

He's tempted to say you really can't put a term of endearment and someone you brainwashed into submission in the same sentence, but what else is new?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

They wind up in a bar. It’s called Die Stube and the place’s brimmed with artists and all sorts of leather-clad, Bowie-esque dramatic, chromatic blue eyelids young people chattering over a dirty cloud of smoke.

The two of them colonize a lone booth in the back. It’s dark and the quietest. She orders a beer and he, a scotch and they drink in silence. There are moments where her head would twist to the side, as subtle as a needle and survey the phantasmagorical scene before them, like studying something from a petri dish. 

While he’s watching her.

Only to tear his gaze away to the nearest object he can find.

It lands on his watch.

"It’s almost ten. Hudson's contact should be here soon," he announces, if anything to distract himself. She nods mutely in reply, as always, and runs a finger around the rim of her glass.

"The place ain't much of your scene?" 

She shrugs, like it's self-evident. "I didn't know this was a scene, though."

"Well, that’s West Berlin for you. A worry-free playground for the hedonists, hipsters and proto-electro NDW enthusiasts with drugs on tap," Adler says, sipping his drink in practiced nonchalance. "Always makes my head spin."

"I guess I remember it differently," Bell replies, tinged with something akin to begrudging. 

That warrants his full attention. "What do you remember?”

Bell shrugs again and lights a cigarette instead, menthol, one of those long, skinny cigarettes they only market for women; biding her time, making him wait. She lets the smoke flares from her nostrils so her eyes are veiled.

"It’s hard to explain, but I suppose it’s grittier?” she gesticulates, searching for the right word like she’s skim reading the entire Oxford dictionary in her head. “Bizarrely, infinitely grittier and dimmer? Like being in an underground tunnel and there's not much to see."

Interesting. Maybe she’s recalling one of her ops for Perseus or her mind is confusing her with the world on the other side of the wall.

“Maybe you’re remembering one of our clandestine ops here. It was a few years after Vietnam,” Adler supplies, passing over the tale like bait.

She falls for it, hook, line and sinker.

“Ah, I guess that also explains my fluency in German.”

“I taught you that.” It’s only logical, he decides, that she learned from him. She’s supposed to be his protégé after all. 

An elegant brow quirk. "You did?"

"Yeah, though you were already fluent in Latin, Russian, Vietnamese and Portuguese when we first met anyway. You have quite a natural ear, kid.”

She gives him a look. He really can’t categorize it, but it makes it a whole lot harder to fight against her stare.

 “What else did you teach me?” 

If they were anyone else, the lines could have a potential to entice, to seduce, that winsome, catty-eyelashes coquette, but they aren't anyone else and Bell does not voice it like that. Yet the implication behind the question stirs something in the pit of Adler’s stomach anyway, that tight knot of confusion as it is buried with something else and he finds himself, once again, uncharacteristically speechless.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

That particular question of her stays, even hours later, unbidden. Interspersed with her scent and face. 

His emotions are a minefield whenever she’s near now. It evokes that newfound rush of terror within him, like walking on a tightrope or being thrown into the pit to face hundreds of hungry lions, bare hands. It makes Adler questions his every decision, and he can’t have that in his line of work. 

Adler lights his sixth cigarette, contemplating everything, nothing. Anything to distract him from her. It's 4 am and he’s exhausted, but his mind won’t stop whirring. This isn’t like him at all- like he's lost somewhere in a Dali-style labyrinth that is his head and he wonders if this is a byproduct of his fear or fascination or confusion for the young woman.

He fears it is all of them.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(They're only 10 minutes away from East Berlin when he senses it, something akin to burning on his peripheral vision, pulling him like weight.

Bell is staring at him from across the seat.

He cocks his head slightly to the side.

Adler catches the quick, telling quirk of her lips, like she's about to smile but lights a cigarette instead.)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Did you hear that?”

Krauss has just crossed the wall and their soles are slippery from the rain. She's panting. Her breath is white like a fog. Adler muses it must be from the running, until his iris trails down to where her hand is clutching his jacket sleeve, the leather creasing like a modulation signal.

“What is it?” Adler asks, hushed. There are no Stasis here, but even one can't be too careful.

“The TV.” She’s gaping at the broken TV next to them. Adler looks at the said object, frowning, then back to her. “Y-you didn’t hear it?”

"Heard what? Bell, the thing's dead."

Bell withdraws from him. Stepping back until her back meets the walls, her eyes seeing and unseeing, like a lens finding focus in the dark, then she closes them, as if trying to regulate her breathing. Adler has never seen her scared shitless of anything before. The sight confuses as it intrigues him. 

"Bell, what's going on?" Adler steps closer, but he dares not to touch her. 

She shakes her head, dismissive. In just a span of seconds, Bell dons that mask she likes to wear again; deadpan and frustratingly distant. A spike of annoyance drives through him. Just when he thinks he can get through her, there she goes again, retreating behind her palisades.

"Nothing." Bell turns away abruptly and she’s walking again."Let's just go. The others are waiting for us."

He doesn't pry about whatever she heard on the TV- Adler knows better than to beat a dead horse, thank you very much- not even after they save her from Volkov's clutches, after she bashes his head against the steel door and reeks his blood all the way home, it seems superficial at the time.

Until two days later.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The day starts, as it mostly does for the team, with a briefing. 

Fifteen minutes in and something like a gasp pulls his attention to her. 

That’s when he notices it; her hands are shaking, coffee spilling out of the mug over her hand. A shatter follows. Her mug smashes to smithereens at her feet. She’s swaying, near collapse, like a house of cards about to fall, a hand on her nose.

Adler catches her before she tumbles to the floor.

“Bell!” His arm around her waist tightens, trying to keep her steady. Lazar rushes to their side in a flash and helps him move her to a nearby chair. 

"Jesus Christ," he curses, more to himself than to her as he watches blood, a bead of angry red, trickling down her nose. "Sims, get me a washcloth from the bathroom."

He kneels before her once Sims returns with a damp cloth. Nicotine-stained gloved fingers tentatively grasp her chin, holding her still. 

“Kid, you alright?” Adler asks, worry bleeds into his voice without him realizing it. He firmly presses the cloth under her nose, his other thumb touches the pulse at her throat- it's almost sickly affectionate. “Bell, talk to me."

Bell looks at him, discombobulated, like he's a figment of her imagination, then blinks. Again and again until she heaves a deep breath.

"I-" she hisses. One hand flies up to her head. "Fuck. My head.”

Adler’s eyes immediately search for Park’s. A knowing look passes over her face and he knows without saying that she's thinking the same thing, like they're attached to the same brain-wire:

MK-Ultra.

There’s a fraction of pause, then Lazar asks, "Should we give her something?” 

Before Park can voice her answer, Bell beats her to it. "I already took an anticonvulsant this morning. It should have helped.”

“Wait, this has happened before?” Adler asks.

Bell looks away, a hesitating look shadowing her face. He fears the worst.

“Bell…” he tries again, a slight warning to his tone.

She sighs loudly, as if mentally preparing herself before walking into a storm. 

“Yes. Two days ago."

His mind instantly refers to East Berlin, the TV. Trying to connect the dots in his head. It seems far fetched, but now he wonders if she saw something that triggers this. Although he's never read about this on other subjects before, the correlation is just impossible to ignore.

Fuck. He heaves a breath, willing himself to calm down, to think. They can't afford complications at times like these. Not when there's so much at stake right now.

Adler snaps his attention back to Bell when she tries to scramble awkwardly to her feet, swatting his hand away. The hand on her neck immediately reaches for her waist again and pushes her back down onto the chair. His grip's tight enough to leave marks on her skin, but he doesn't care.

"Bell, for fuck's sake, stay still or so help me," he says, exasperated, not letting go of her waist. 

"I feel better now." Stubborn little shit.

He is tempted to scream at her face and grab both of her shoulders and shake. “The hell you’re not. Stop fighting it. You’ll only make things worse.”

Her face sours, if only for a millisecond before it morphs into guilt. “I’m sorry.”

Adler watches her for a long moment. It’s only now that he realizes that he’s still holding her waist and the cloth on her face. 

He backs away from her like he’s been burnt. 

“You should have told me. I thought I made it clear the other night to keep me informed regarding this,” he scolds. 

“I’m sorry,” she utters again and she looks so pliable like this, a blank canvas perfumed with obedience and lethal mind. It makes him almost feel sorry for what he has in plan for her once the shit show is over.

“Look, just go back to the hotel and take a day off.” Her mouth cracks open. He raises a silencing hand. “That’s an order, Bell.” But she merely scowls, looking more like jagged ice than a person. Hudson may have just met his match, after all.

“I told you I’m fine.”

“That’s not how it looks to me.”

“It is. It’s my body and I know what I’m feeling, and I’m telling you, I. Feel. Fine.”

His jaw clenches. “Are you disobeying a direct order, agent?”

Bell doesn’t answer, but her whole face remains challenging and hard. Undeterred.

Adler holds his breath. He feels the whole room collectively does the same. It’s like staring down the barrel of a gun and there’s an awful sort of danger to be found in that. 

Just when he thinks an imaginary bullet would dig itself into his skin, however, Bell utters, “Of course not.”

And so the woman resumes to her normal, docile self at a drop of a hat. Even when Park steps in and whisks her out of her seat, drives her back to her hotel with Lazar on shotgun. 

It doesn’t assuage his worry, though. He’s still restless throughout the day, like a roaring ocean inside a bell jar. She’s never done this before, openly rebels against him. Now, the situation is just bad. Not casually bad or almost-got-shot bad, this is the-entire-Europe-could-turn-into-a-nuclear-wasteland bad, an-armageddon-waiting-to-happen bad. 

What if this is the beginning of her old self trying to scratch her way out of the surface? Adler’s blood goes cold at the thought. He is going to have to keep a close eye on this development.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

West Berlin - 1 am, local time.

“How is she?”

“Stable. I’ve administered another dose of Propranolol before I left the hotel. She should be fit as a fiddle in the morning.”

“Tell me, what do you think happened to her?”

“My theory? Traumatic brain injury. A cumulative product of torture, trauma-based mind control and chronic stress. I've read reports about cases like these before in MI6. None of them is still alive to recount the tale, unfortunately."

Adler grips the phone. 

“How long do you think we have?”

“Theoretically, 2-3 weeks tops.”

“But?”

He hears Park sighs on the other line. “But then again, none of the subjects I’ve encountered before were like her. So, I suppose it’s still a little too premature to determine at this point."

Adler kneads his temple, feeling the start of that familiar Bell-induced headache forms in his head. Can things just be fucking simple for once? 

“We don’t have that much time anyway, Park. And if Hudson gets a wind of this, he’ll want her gone by morning. I can’t let that happen. Not…” he pauses. “Not when we are this close.”

"What are we going to do about her, then?" 

Adler sighs.

"Raise the dosages of her drugs,” he says. “And keep an extra eye on her. I think we may be heading into uncharted waters now.”

Tagging: @mvalentine cause you said to tag you with everything i write so  👁👄👁

[luffles424]

Lucidity (9)

☼ Pairing: BTS x reader (this chap is Namjoon x reader)

☼ Genre: vampire!BTS, succubus!reader, smut, fluff, angst

☼ Count: 6.3K

☼ Warnings: 18+, teasing, biting, minorish blood play (it’s a vampire fic so like, there’s some feeding), some dom/sub themes, unprotected, light choking, creampie, referenced kidnapping, captivity, implied attacks, minor character death (nothing in detail)

☼ Summary: You’ve spent years jumping from country to country, starting countless new lives. Crafting new lives is as easy as breathing for you, lies flowing easily and people are charmed with a simple bat of your eyes. When you meet a witch who offers the idea of opening a supernatural club, using your powers combined with hers to ensure safety to those who enter, you decide to join her in an adventure that is entirely new to you. But your new life in Seoul is drastically changed when you’re forced to face something you’ve spent centuries hiding from. But just because you might be running for your life again doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun along the way, right?

☼ a/n: Surprise~~ The truth is finally here! Hope you enjoy and that it was worth the wait! While the truth is out, there’s still a long way for everyone to go! And be sure to heed the warnings! This chapter is pretty heavy. My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You groan, stretching out on the silky bedding. The room is warm, summer light casting rays across the room where someone left the window cracked to keep you cool. You pause and listen for a moment, but there’s no sound of movement around the house signifying anyone else is home. Namjoon and Jaeho must have gone to the village for a while. 

You kick your leg out from beneath the sheet that covers you, hoping to cool yourself just slightly from the heat that settles over you. You sort of wish one of them was home right now, just for some company. You all had been working so much lately that you hadn’t seen much of them other than occasional meals. You can’t even remember the last time the three of you fell into bed together at night and woke up together. You’ve all been so busy lately. 

Sighing, you stretch out again and breath in deep to catch their scents. At least you have a small piece of them. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to repay Jaeho for all that he’s done for you. You’ll spend the rest of your life repaying him for the chance he took on you. You had been forcibly turned and abandoned with no knowledge of what you suddenly were. Your memories of the specific encounter have always been hazy. You just remember coming to and having the sudden, insatiable craving for sex. 

Jaeho took you in months after you were turned, when you were aimlessly roaming and feeding. There had been no rhyme or reason to what you did, you simply functioned off instinct, moving around through a confused, lustful haze. You don’t even know if you had killed anyone. At the time, you simply didn’t care. The changes had muddled your mind so much that you lost yourself for a while. Jaeho had found you in an alley about to drain someone completely. 

He taught you control, and in all honestly probably kept you from getting yourself killed too. You weren’t exactly subtle in your feeding, you at least knew that much. Sometimes, when you traveled with him later, you’d hear rumors from years ago. Of a woman or attacks or strange instances that sound eerily like you and your actions. It really would’ve only been a matter of time before someone caught wind, connected them, and hunted you down. He had done the same for Namjoon, you found out later. He’d been turned, either on accident or maliciously, and abandoned. Namjoon had held out for weeks, hunger slowly growing as he struggled against his new instincts to hurt those around him. Jaeho found him on the edge of going feral and helped him.

When they’d found you, they brought you back to the modest place the two had been staying at and you all had talked. He explained what they were, how he’d been around for a few centuries, the few years Namjoon had now been with him. He extended the same offer to you, to stay and learn control with others who knew the struggle of a never ending thirst. He knew some about your kind, enough to teach you about yourself and how to handle your new powers. It had been the first time you’d heard what you were, succubus. 

You would’ve assumed that once your powers were well and truly under control that the three of you would go your separate ways. Or at least that Jaeho would send you on your way, confident that you wouldn’t leave a trail of bodies behind you anymore. That maybe Jaeho only saw you as someone to help out before letting you go to feel better about himself. But a couple decades later and you’re still all together, closer than ever. The relationship developed slowly over the years. All three of you danced a little awkwardly around each other. Products of a time where monogamy was most well known and the concept of three people together and happy seemed so foreign to you all. 

One balmy night in Paris, when you’d come back from work, you found the two of them sprawled in just their underwear. All the windows were thrown open and a gentle breeze ruffled the curtains, casting shifting patterns of moonlight across their skin. And it struck you like a bolt of lightning in that moment, heart warmed by the sight that welcomed home. The sight that you were always so excited to come home to. A sight that you realized that you wanted to come home to forever.

“I love you.”

You had blurted it out. You don’t know if you had startled yourself more with the sudden admission or them. They both stared at you with wide eyes before exchanging a quick glance. Jaeho had tentatively, and nervously, something you had never seen from him before, asked who you were talking to. You would have thought it would’ve been hard to answer. Which one did you mean. But it was the easiest thing in the world to say as you looked from Jaeho to Namjoon and said ‘both.’

Their faces had remained nerve-wrackingly blank for long moments. Before Jaeho broke out into a wide relieved smile. 

“Oh thank god. I thought I would have to be the one to bring it up first.”

Namjoon’s shock and confusion lasted a little longer. First directed at you then towards Jaeho’s admission. Even without Namjoon’s answer, you felt giddy and excited. Both of you turned expectantly towards Namjoon, who seemed to flounder under the sudden attention. 

Jaeho was quick to intercede. “It’s okay if you need time or don’t feel the same, Joonie.”

Namjoon blinked a few times before quickly shaking his head. “No, I- I’m just surprised. I promise. This is… amazing.”

His soft confession was enough to finally propel you forward, tugging him up and into a feverish kiss. One that Jaeho interrupted to steal a searing kiss of his own before planting the same on Namjoon. After, the three of you had fallen into bed together and haven’t separated since, with exception of occasional trips. But those never last long for any of you. You always end up missing the others too much to stay away for long. And for all the fun there is in the world, there’s nothing better than being in their arms. 

Maybe you should suggest a small vacation soon, you’re fairly certain there’s some anniversary coming up. And your small little plot of farmland will survive a few days without the three of you around. Long enough for a quick trip somewhere. You wish you could go back to Paris. But that would take too long to travel. It’d have to be somewhere a little closer. 

The rustling of grass filters in through the window, signaling someone’s approach. You think about getting up to greet them, but decide that you’d rather try to get them to join you in bed. You’ve missed them too much to let the opportunity to get to be close with them for a little while go. The door is opened and closed and you can hear them shuffling around beyond the partition. The movements are too soft to pick out who it is, but after a moment, Namjoon’s warm scent spreads through the house.

“Joonie…” you croon. 

There’s a pause and then a chuckle and the footsteps come closer. “Is there a particular reason you are still in bed and naked, love?”

You reach a hand out towards him. “In the hope that one of my beautiful men will decide to join me again. I miss you both.”

A smile tugs at his lips, cheeks dimpling. He tugs his hair free of it’s tie, silky strands falling to his shoulders as he gives them a quick ruffle. You know you’ve already won with that action, even if he’ll pretend to think about it. He’s not going to leave until you’re happy and satisfied. “Is that so?” 

The ties of his belt are undone and he lets his top fall open. Your eyes trace over the newly revealed skin, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His skin is more tan than you last remember, leaving him practically glowing golden in the sunlight.

“Have you been working outside without a shirt lately?” you murmur. 

He hums, shrugging the shirt from his shoulders and letting it pool on the ground at his feet. “There is a lot of work to do around here.”

“Are you saying I don’t do any work around here?”

He chuckles. “I think you do the most work, love.”

He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his pants, tugging them down his legs and leaving him bare before you. You hungrily drink him in. Now that he’s able to stay out in the sunlight longer, his skin is finally starting to return to the golden of when you met, losing some of the paleness that came from his new sensitivity to sunlight. The years spent tending the fields around your little home has left him built, so much so that you're positive that even without the vampire strength that he’d be able to lift you easily. The idea makes you squirm.

Beckoning him once more, you slide the thin sheet from your body, shameless in your nudity before him. His gaze flickers across the expanse of your form before taking a step closer and stretching out beside you. Propping his head up on a hand, he uses his free hand to trace idle patterns along the soft skin of your stomach. His cool touch leaves goosebumps in their wake. 

“Well, love, now that you have me back in bed, what are your grand plans?”

Shifting onto your side, you press yourself closer until you’re pressed against him, finger tips ghosting up his arm. “I’m certain we can think of something to occupy ourselves with, Joonie.”

He chuckles, the sound deep and warm enough that you want to do nothing more than bask in it forever. His hand cups your cheek gently and you lean into the touch a moment before turning your head just enough to press a kiss to his palm. “You’re insatiable,” he murmurs, trying to sound like he’s reprimanding but his tone oozes nothing but fondness. 

Humming, you thread your fingers through his hair. “You don’t seem to particularly mind, though.”

“Brat,” he murmurs, before pressing his lips to yours. 

You smirk into the kiss though it’s short lived as Namjoon’s hand slides off your cheek to grip the back of your neck possessively, guiding you into a deeper kiss. Moaning when he nips your lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth, you feel your pussy clench at the sting and let your hands drift from his chest down to his half hard cock where it presses to your thigh. You wrap your hand around the already hefty girth even when he’s only half hard and you get a grunt in response. Giving him a few slow pumps, you revel in the feeling of him firming up in your grip, the physical proof of the effect you have on him. Decades later and you still love the feel of them hardening with just a few strokes. 

You could do that with anyone, but there’s something special about Namjoon and Jaeho. The bond you all share makes moments like these so much more than just sex or feeding. There’s a delight in the fact that time has left them just as in love with you as you still are with them. Love so deeply rooted that you don’t think it could ever be removed. 

Namjoon’s lips reverently trail along your jaw. “You’re in your head. All that work to get me here and you’re just going to imagine something else?” His tone is lighthearted and teasing as he ends his question with a nip to your neck. 

“There exists nothing I’d rather imagine than to be here with you. And oh,” you grin, looking pointedly to where you’re pressed together, “will you look at that. I’m right here with you.”

“I know someone who would perhaps have an objection to that.”

Leaning in, you steal a quick kiss. “It’s what he gets for leaving the bed.”

Namjoon chases your lips when you go to pull away. “Someone should do some real work around here.” 

He continues pressing forward once your lips reconnect, forcing you onto your back and he shifts to pin you to the bed with his hips, hard cock pressing delightfully against you. Grinding your hips up into his, you let your legs wrap around his waist to keep him close. His cock slides through your wet folds, creating the perfect rub of friction to your clit that makes your toes curl. 

“Joonie…” you whine as his lips trail down to your neck. 

“I don’t know if you’ve earned anything yet, love,” he coos, fangs grazing across your skin, a shock of adrenaline racing through you at the teasing promise of being bitten.

They’ve fed from you countless times, but time does nothing to lessen the excitement that comes from the promise of the pleasure that will course through your veins as they feed from you. The first time either of them had fed from you, Jaeho had you sat on Namjoon’s cock. And you had cum almost the second Jaeho’s fangs pierced the skin of your neck. The euphoria that flooded your body had been almost overwhelming and when you had come back to yourself, Namjoon had been squirming beneath you, whining to Jaeho about how tightly your pussy can clamped around him while Jaeho had fed. Jaeho had merely laughed before lifting you easily and helping you ride Namjoon until he came as well. Not that it took long after the way your pussy had been convulsing around him. Now you’ve grown a little addicted to the feeling of being fed from by them, especially when all three of you are together. 

Thrusting lazily against you, Namjoon pulls you back to the present, giving you only just enough pressure to your clit to leave you aching for more, squirming as much as you can with your hips pinned down by his. His teeth nip at your skin, the sting sending a jolt through your body, dragging a whine from your throat. 

“Please…”

Namjoon makes a thoughtful noise, though he seems far more preoccupied with your neck to truly be thinking about your pleas. You wonder when he last fed. It’s been a while since he’s fed from you, so you know that he must have gone out to feed from a human. But with the way all your schedules have been lately, you don’t know exactly when that was. The way he’s interested in your neck though says that it’s maybe been a while since he’s fed. Or, you think with a small thrill, maybe he has just missed feeding from you.  

You know you could easily overpower him. While in normal circumstances his strength far outweighs yours, this is your domain. And the lust slowly clouding the room means that it would be nothing to flip you both and simply take what you want. Something that he most certainly knows after being with you for so long. 

But there’s something to the surrender, the implicit trust you put in him. In each other. Namjoon lifts his head and his eyes shine with happiness. Ducking down, he presses a soft kiss to your lips. Then he presses a second kiss, far more urgent and needy. It consumes you as he grinds against you, thick cock rubbing perfectly against your aching clit.

You whine against his lips, drawing a deep chuckle from him. “Tell me what you want, love,” he murmurs.

You nip at his bottom lip with a small grin. “Just you.”

Fingers digging into your hips, he adjusts you slightly so his cock just presses against your entrance. “Who would’ve thought that the sex demon would be so soft, hm?”

Before you can retort, he pulls you in, cock sinking deliciously into you. You moan as he presses in fully to the hilt, letting you sit there full of him until you start squirming, wanting him to move.

He chuckles again. “So needy, love.”

His hips draw away, until just the tip remains before he thrusts back in. The force jostles you up the bed, pulling a gasp from you and he sets a slow, almost lazy rhythm. You sink into the feeling, reveling in the drag of his cock against your walls. There’s a level of care and calculation to his movements and anticipation builds in you as you wait for his next move, pleasure slowly building in your belly. His fangs drag teasingly against the thin skin of your pulse point and your pulse races at the promise of a bite. 

Teeth digging in gently, nowhere near hard enough to pierce your skin, you whine, trying to push up into the easy pressure against your throat. Namjoon’s hand finds your throat, fingers fitting right under your jaw and forcing your head back and fully exposing your throat to him. The hint of danger sends a thrill through your body and your pussy clenches around his cock. 

His tongue traces the path of your racing pulse until his lips bump his fingers. “So, so needy. And yet, you won’t just ask for what you want.” He tuts, plush lips pressing to your jaw above his fingers. “Tell me what you want or you won’t get it.”

You huff and his hand tightens marginally around your throat, cutting your theatrics off immediately. “Want you to feed. Haven’t had it in so long…”

His smile presses to your neck. “Only you would miss having a vampire drink from you, love.”

A breathy laugh leaves you. “Cause I know how good it feels. It’s so good.”

He hums, tongue laving over your pulse for a moment before his fangs are sinking into your flesh. There’s a split second of pain, twin points of burning that is washed away by euphoria as the venom sinks into your veins. Your limbs tingle and every place that his hands touch feels electric. Drinking deeply, his hips stutter to a stop, leaving you impaled on his cock as he feeds. 

In your distracted state, you don’t notice his fingers moving until they find your clit, circling the bundle with practiced ease. Pleasure burns through you, bright and hot as his fingers move and your hips move in an attempt to get more sensation, to get him to fuck you hard and fast and add even more pleasure for the greedy, hungry pit of lust growing within you. 

He pulls away slightly, dark eyes staring at the bite before he’s diving back down to lick up the blood that oozes from the wounds. His hips twitch and you know that’s he’s just barely holding onto his restraint. You sink your fingers into his soft hair, tugging the long strands and pulling a growl from deep in his chest. 

“Fuck me. Joonie, please…”

Everything freezes for a moment and then Namjoon jerks into motion, thrusts picking up pace rapidly, almost frenzied as his lips find yours for a messy, uncoordinated kiss. He fucks you hard and fast, desperate in a way you both need. You’ve missed them both so much. 

Pleasure builds quickly in your belly and you let it crest with a sigh. Shuddering, your pussy clenches around his cock as you cum, venom heighting all sensation to the point that you feel high. Namjoon’s hips stutter slightly from the sudden clench. A handful of thrusts later, just as you start to tip into oversensitivity, he cums with a groan, leaving you sated and full.

His forehead rests against your shoulder for a moment before he pulls out and flops down beside you, pulling you close to cuddle. 

“Love you…” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin.

Letting your fingers comb through his hair, you hum with happiness. There’s nowhere you’d rather be. “Love you too.”

Namjoon can hear the pacing before he even enters the house. Opening the door reveals the same thing he’s come home to for the past three days, Jaeho pacing around the small common space, completely lost in thought. He wonders if Jaeho even attended to his chores today, or if he’s been here since this morning when Namjoon left. He had at least managed to get Jaeho to sleep a little, if a little fitfully. Being wrapped up in Namjoon’s arms had seemed to help at least a little bit. 

“Jae,” he calls softly.

There’s no response initially, Jaeho looking up a handful of seconds after Namjoon has said his name, like there’s a delay in processing what’s happening around him. Worry creases his face and Namjoon steps forward to wrap his arms around the other. 

“She’ll be back. You know she always comes back,” he murmurs soothingly. He’s said it more times than he can count in the last three days. Namjoon doesn’t want to think about how he’s saying it as much to reassure Jaeho as he is to reassure himself.

The conversation the two of you had before he returned to work two weeks ago plays on a never ending loop. Wondering if there’s some hidden meaning or clue that he missed. He’d asked what your plans were for the rest of the day and you detailed that you were hungry and that there had been a werewolf that had been coming into the tea house and seemed interested. So you were going to flirt a little and see where it led. 

 Namjoon had never imagined that he would be here. Laying in bed, idly tracing patterns on his partners skin as she detailed her plans to go sleep with someone else. He would expect jealousy, or maybe even anger. And the jealousy had certainly been there in the beginning. But Jaeho and you had never ending patience with him. Helped him talk through his emotions and get to where he is now. Because he knows there’s nothing to be jealous of. That while you flit off every so often to sleep with some people and feed, that at the end of the day, you’ll always end up back here with them. Because it’s them that you love and they’re home. 

There’s nothing in Namjoon’s recollection of the conversation that reveals any hidden meaning or agenda. You had talked as if you’d be back within a day at most, like you were just heading out for a quick bite to eat and then you’d be back. 

Namjoon tries to bury the worry that bubbles up that maybe he missed something or that something’s happened. Jaeho is worrying more than enough for both of them right now and at least one of them needs to remain strong and level-headed. 

Chewing his lip for a moment, Jaeho thinks his words over carefully. “I know that. But she never disappears without telling us for more than a couple of days. It’s already been almost two weeks. She would’ve told us if she was going for a while.”

Humming, Namjoon gives him another squeeze. That was another thing he was trying to not think about. Had you told him that you’d be away for a while and he just didn’t remember and now Jaeho was worrying for nothing? But if he told Jaeho that you had said that when you didn’t and you really were in trouble? Namjoon doesn’t know if he’d be able to live with that. “You know how werewolves are. She probably just got caught up and forgot. She hasn’t been with one in a while. They’re a lot and she can feed from them a lot. Probably just drinking her fill.”

Jaeho sighs, sagging slightly in Namjoon’s arms. The words seem to sooth him, at least for the moment and that’s the best that Namjoon can ask for right now. “I guess… I just don’t have a good feeling about this.”

Namjoon presses a kiss to his head. “Don’t worry. She loves us both. She’ll be back before we know it.” Pulling away, Namjoon gives him a reassuring smile, gently tugging him back towards the bed. “In the meantime, I know just how to help you relax.”

You don’t know how long you’ve been here. Time has blurred into a long stretch of aching hunger, made more acute with every attempt you make to escape. None have been successful. You don’t even really know where you are. The last thing you fully remember is spending time with the werewolf you met at the tea house. You’d spent a couple of days with him, days full of fun and left you full and sated. You had been planning to go back to Jaeho and Namjoon the next morning. But someone clearly had other plans. 

Waking up in a dark, cold gray cellar had certainly been a surprise after falling asleep in bed warmed by a werewolf. As had the ache in your head and blood matted in your hair, though the blood certainly explained the headache. More surprising than just being in the cellar was finally taking notice of the bars separating you from a large portion of the cellar and confining you to one little corner. There’s nothing in the little cell with you. With no windows, there’s no way to tell how long you’ve been down here either or even what time it currently is. The cellar is sparsely filled too, a few boxes scattered around, but it seems abandoned. You’d tried yelling yourself hoarse the first few days after awakening, but either no one was around or the stone the cellar was built from kept your shouts from reaching anyone. 

Which has led to your current predicament. You know at least a few weeks have passed. The slowly growing hunger is proof enough of that. The growing hunger has also meant that you’ve slowly begun to lose yourself. You’ve been having moments where you’ve blacked out, where you know you’ve been conscious but you don’t recall a thing that happened. One time you came to, to find your hands slick with blood and the sting of cuts on your fingertips. After taking a moment to get your bearings again, you found blood on the bars where you assume you had tried to break your way out even if you don’t remember those actions. 

The length of time they last seems to be growing longer and you don’t know whether it comforts you to know that it will be over soon or feel guilt wrenching heartache that your last moments are here, alone and that Namjoon and Jaeho will never know what happened. 

As your periods of lucidity begin to lessen and you find yourself spending those brief moments as yourself thinking of Jaeho and Namjoon. You miss them so much. Want their comforting scents here with you, to fall asleep in their arms on soft bedding instead of being alone on a cold, stone floor. 

You wonder if they’re worried or looking for you. They knew you’d gone to meet someone, assuming Namjoon told Jaeho about your plans. Would they think something happened to you? Or would they just assume you had left for a while, even if you hadn’t told them that you planned to leave for a while. It’s something that you haven’t done since the beginning of your relationship. Back when you all were still figuring out how the three of you worked and you were a little more easily spooked by what you felt. And even back then, you never disappeared for long, always drawn back to them no matter what. 

It’s during one of these periods of consciousness that something changes. A door opens and you see a sliver of light, that given however long you’ve been in the dark, is nearly blinding for a moment, forcing your eyes to squeeze closed. Then someone descends the stairs, a lantern in one hand, casting a warm glow about the cellar that is still almost too bright considering the dark you've sat in until now. The scent hits you a moment after her appearance. Werewolf. 

Your stomach clenches painfully, hunger gnawing at you with the tease of possible food before you. You find yourself getting to your feet and approaching the bars without much thought, so fast that you stumble but you’re too focused to pay it any mind. In fact, you’re so focused that the bars startle you slightly when you bump into them.

The woman laughs cruelly when she sees that. “Forgot the bars again, whore?”

Again? Has she been down here before? Your mind reels, scraping together every brief memory from recently to see if you can recount someone coming down here. Your mind comes to only darkness. You suppose that it is possible that she came down before given the moments you’ve been losing. But that just becomes even more disconcerting because she’s been coming down here while you starve? While you’ve been struggling to get free? Fingers curling around the bars, you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, throat rough from disuse. 

Clearing your throat, you try again. “Who…”

The woman scoffs and you have no idea if it’s because you’ve had this conversation before or if she just seemingly dislikes you that you addressing her directly is disgusting to her. “Are we really doing this whole thing again? How you seduce anyone when you’re this stupid, is beyond me.” The lantern is set on the ground as the woman takes a seat on a small stool set before the bars. “My name is Talia. I don’t think I need to tell you that I’m a werewolf.”

“Why…”

She laughs again. “Because you slept with my mate.”

Mate? You’ve only slept with one werewolf recently. And he was certainly unmated. No marks and no mating scent. Mated werewolves carried a certain scent, a slight undertone of their mates scent that is with them always. Is that who she means? You’d discussed other current partners while you were together and he hadn’t mentioned a mate. He mentioned a guy, a werewolf from another pack that he was interested in. Was debating whether he should court him or not. You had given him some advice and he seemed genuinely happy to receive it, glowing when you asked about the other werewolf and he began to gush about how they met. 

“What are you talking about?” you croak. Everything is confusing and that combined with your hunger is making your head throb, making it even harder to focus on the harsh words she spits at you.

Tutting, she shakes her head, like she’s chiding a child. “You spent all that time with him and you’ve forgotten him?”

“I… I don’t understand… I’ve only slept with one werewolf. And he wasn’t mated.”

“You know nothing of mates.” There’s a wildness in her eyes that has you shrinking away from the bars. With it comes the dawning realization that she is the reason you’re locked up down here. 

Tears gather in your eyes, frustration, anger, and grief almost so overwhelming that it feels like you’re choking. “Why are you doing this? Please, let me go.”

“That’s most certainly not going to happen. Not yet anyway. I have plans for you. You ruin my life, I ruin yours,” she cackles.

And then she’s picking up the lantern and leaving as you shout behind her. For her to stop, to let you go, for anyone to help you. The silence sets in as the cellar door is slammed shut behind, disturbed only by your broken sobs. 

“I’m going to find her.”

Namjoon looks up from the paper he’s going over, brow furrowed at Jaeho. “What?”

“It’s been a month, Joonie. I’m worried. I’m going to find her.” He adjusts a bag slung over his shoulder, face determined.

Namjoon starts to stand. “I’ll come with.”

Jaeho shakes his head. “No, someone should stay here. In case she comes back. Someone should be here for her. I’ll check in with you every couple of days.”

Namjoon nods reluctantly, moving closer to him. “Be safe,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

Three days later, Namjoon catches wind of a werewolf pack that’s going to take care of a feral vampire that’s attacking a nearby village. There’s only one other vampire in the area. Namjoon’s stomach sinks and he goes to the village without a second thought.

You blink, consciousness coming back to you slowly. You notice several things that don’t immediately fully process with you. First, you’re outside. It’s night, but the buildings around you are ablaze, casting everything in bright light. Second, you are, bizarrely, no longer starving, instead a hollow fullness settles in your bones. Almost more off putting than the hunger. Third, and this one takes the longest to register because it seems so unreal, Talia stands before you. And with a growing sense of dread as you fully take in the scene, holds a struggling Jaeho by the throat. 

You take a step closer and can see her grip tighten so you stop, going so far as to take a step back in the hopes that she loosens her grip on him. Jaeho thrashes and when you call out his name, all you get in response is a hiss. Is he… feral?

Flashes of memories hit you, things that make your stomach turn. It all seems like a nightmare. You have a vague awareness of completely losing yourself, Jaeho finding you. Or was he led to you? Of you… feeding from him as he fought to subdue you. When you look at your arms, you see scratches and bruises that confirm your memories to be true, that you attacked him. That you did this to him. Squeezing your eyes shut, you force the memories away before focusing on Talia again.

“Let him go.” Your voice breaks.

She gives you a cruel, condescending smile. “I don’t think so. There’s a feral vampire causing havoc, as the resident pack, we have to take care of it.”

Tears spill down your cheek as you shake your head. You have to fix this. It isn’t his fault. He just needs to feed a little and he’ll be fine. If she just gives him to you, then you can fix this. You both can go back to Namjoon and everything will be okay. “No no no. Please. Don’t do this. Give him to me. I can make him better. Please, this is just an accident.”

Humming thoughtfully for a moment, she makes eye contact with a grin. “No.”

Then she rips Jaeho’s throat out. You scream, dropping to your knees as he gurgles for a moment before slowly sinking to the ground. All you can focus on is the blood slowly seeping into the ground. You feel cold even with the heat of the blaze surrounding you. Talia drops the mess in her hand and glances behind her. 

Burying your face in your hands, you sob, feeling the loss of Jaeho tear through your chest as viscerally as a dagger. You ache. How are you going to tell Namjoon? There’s no way to explain this. Jaeho should’ve let you go after he taught you control. Maybe he shouldn’t even have bothered to stop you that night he found you. He should’ve just left you to hunters. 

This is all your fault.

You hear voices murmuring, one calm and collected and the other frantic, and when you finally manage to drag your gaze up what feels like an eternity later, you see Namjoon standing over Jaeho’s body, face twisted with anguish. Talia’s nowhere to be seen. He drops to his knees, hands hovering like if he doesn’t touch then it’s not real. Staggering to your feet, you cross the short distance, stopping just short of them when Namjoon’s head jerks up to meet you with a hard look. It’s enough to break your heart all over again.

“How could you do this?”

His words are ice and you have no idea how to respond. You have no answer. How could you, you haven’t even been conscious. Your lust clouded your judgement and now you’ve hurt the people you loved the most. “J-joonie-”

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore. How could you do this? After everything he’s done for you?” His voice raises in pitch as tears begin to fall down his cheeks. “He did everything for you. For us. How could you?”

The silence after his shouting is deafening. It would almost be easier if he kept yelling. At least then you wouldn’t have to hear the way your thoughts swirl with ‘it’s your fault he’s dead.’ 

What are you supposed to say to him anyway? There’s no apology in the world that could ever bring Jaeho back. Namjoon’s right. Jaeho did everything for you. And now he’s dead.

“I’m sorry…” The words feel like ash on your tongue. Wholly inadequate but you have to say something. You and Namjoon can still continue on. You can bring Jaeho’s memory with you. You don’t all have to lose everything. 

Namjoon laughs bitterly. “You’re sorry?” He sounds incredulous and shakes his head. “Just leave. I can’t…” His breath stutters and his gaze drops to the ground. “Please just go. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

You want to argue. Bring up the idea that you don’t have to lose each other too. That Jaeho wouldn’t want you to separate just because he’s gone. But you have a feeling that he won’t be receptive to that. And as much as it pains you to leave them both. You don’t want to cause Namjoon more hurt than you already have. The kindest thing you can do now is simply honor his request. 

So you leave. Vowing to yourself that you’ll never let someone close again. You don’t think your heart could handle more loss. You bring nothing but pain to others.

[roman-writing]

bring home a haunting (10/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 18,021

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

Author’s notes: you’ll notice that we’ve stopped updating weekly. This is due to the fact that we’ve run out of backlogged material and are now writing in real time. Thank you for your patience with the final few updates.

read it below or read it on AO3 here

X: 1978-1983

—

The summer air was a warm suggestion of a breeze. The curtains trembled slightly in its passing, just a feeble stir that could not quell even the muted birdsong of robins. A bedroom awash in late afternoon sunlight that softened the wooden furniture and the textured wallpaper until everything was steeped to the same pastel shade of the bedsheets.

Dani sat in the chair before her cramped writing desk. It was too small to do any real work, but it was the only thing she could fit into this room – her own space – without her mother complaining. Most days it was used for little more than picture frames, curios, and stacks of clean laundry waiting to be tucked away into drawers, neat and soldierly. Today she had cleared a space and placed on it a blank sheet of paper, a pen, and an envelope with no address.

The heat was such that the back of Dani’s thighs stuck to the wooden chair when she shifted in her seat. She folded her heel atop the chair so she could rest her chin against her knee and stare at the sheet of paper. She chewed at the edge of her thumbnail until the skin there was raised and red and ragged, until she tasted the tang of copper, until she had to tuck her thumb away behind a closed fist and press her knuckles to her mouth.

The summer days were long and mercifully empty. No assignments. School wouldn’t start again for another month. No mother. Karen was out at some work function and had elected to leave Dani behind for once. No obligations. Nowhere to be. Nothing but the slow whittling away of minutes, of hours, of walking down the warm familiar streets and feeling the cold notion wash over her that she had let another day slip away.

Taking her courage into her hands, Dani picked up the pen. She held it over the page, as if in the vain hope her thoughts could flow from the tip of the pen without her input. She sat up straight, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, began to write.

‘Dear Jamie –’

—

The sharp edges of the walkie talkie dug into her palm as she gripped it with white knuckles. Vestiges of a dream still hovered over her, just as the pale suggestion of diffused moonlight shone through her curtains. Her thumb hesitated over the press-to-talk button, still curled into the same tangle of limbs and sheets she had woken up in, her breath now back to normal from the shallow gasping that had felt like drowning. Usually, there was a comfort in knowing that Eddie was a creature of routine. In bed by eleven, but asleep by twelve after sneaking in another hour of reading. But looking at her bedside clock now, red numbers blinking the witching hour in the dark, deftly ignoring the photo frame just beside it, Dani wavered, knowing he’d be asleep by now. 

Hearing the distant sounds of the television still going through the floor, the hum of the box fan — her mother asleep or awake, she couldn’t really care — Dani exhaled a slow trembling breath, and pressed down on the button.

“Eddie?” Dani murmured softly. She waited for a long moment, pressing her forehead against the plastic, but when he didn’t respond, she swallowed hard and repeated, “Eddie? Are you there?”

She grimaced at the poor word choice, but kept silent, waiting. In the long stretch of silence, she let her eyes slip closed, her throat feeling thick. She sighed and whispered again, “Eddie?” feeling as though she was calling through some distant veil. 

There was still no response. Just as resignation was settling heavy in her chest, exhaustion pressing on her eyelids, static buzzed through the speakers. “Danielle?” came a heavy, sleep-ridden voice.

“I’m sorry,” Dani whispered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - go back to sleep. It’s fine.”

“Are you okay?” Eddie murmured, along with the sound of shuffling fabric. Dani remained silent, worrying her lower lip, guilt whorling in her stomach. When she didn’t respond, Eddie spoke again, sounding slightly more awake, but no less gruff.  “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “I - um. I just - “

“Can’t sleep?”

“Something like that.”

He was silent for a moment, and carefully asked, “Another nightmare?”

“Yes,” she said in a small voice. 

“Do you want to talk about it this time?”

Against her will, before she could even stop herself, Dani’s eyes darted to the photo frame. To Jamie’s broad smile, to her younger self clinging on to Jamie’s back as Jamie held her up in a piggyback. Her breath catching in her throat, Dani blinked and turned on her back to stare fixedly at the streaks of moonlight stretching along her ceiling like slim, ghostly fingers. 

“No,” Dani murmured, pressing a palm to her eyes to banish the burning there, “I just - I wanted to hear your voice.”

Eddie hummed, as though half asleep already. “Won’t your mom hear?”

“She’s downstairs.”

“Okay,” Eddie said, the static dropping quiet briefly, but quickly returned along with the new sound of ruffling paper, “Want me to read aloud again?”

Biting back the embarrassment burning her cheeks, Dani murmured, “Please?”

Chuckling softly, Eddie said, “Are you up for some Lord of the Rings, or something else?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Lord of the Rings it is,” Eddie murmured, and then quietly began to recite from where they had left off last time. 

Dani slipped her eyes shut again as she listened, resting the walkie talkie against her chest. For however much she tried, for how many times Eddie had asked for her thoughts on one plot point or another, Dani for the life of her could never remember a single passage the morning after. It was never about the story, nor was it simply just listening to Eddie’s sleep-roughened voice for all the comfort it gave her. If she could shut her eyes, and leave the walkie talkie on the pillow beside her head, she could almost imagine it. Eddie lying beside her, with her head on his shoulder, and for a second she could pretend he smelled of sandalwood instead of sharp soap, the fabric under cheek flannel instead of a woolen sweater, and — 

It wasn’t the same. It’d never be the same. Not with guilt burning like acid in her stomach, not with her chest feeling so heavy and tight. Drawing in a low breath, Dani slowly peeled herself away from her too warm comforter and off her bed to pad quietly towards her open window, keeping the walkie talkie close to her chest. She slipped through her thin curtains that danced in a slight breeze and leaned her elbows on the windowsill, resting her chin on her arm as she looked out into the night of her backyard.

Beneath the low tones of Eddie’s voice, there was the sound of crickets and the whisper of a warm breeze. The neighborhood was dark but for the glow of distant streetlamps and the gleam of the moon and starlight. And just there in the far distance, a plane blinked red and white lights as it passed far overhead in the dark sky like a manmade shooting star. Maybe if it were a few months ago, maybe then she would have pressed her eyes shut and made a silly, small wish. Top marks on her next test. A new dress for her birthday. Her favorite meal for dinner. But her wishes seemed too big these days. Too large to fit in the palm of her hands. Words that felt more like prayer on her tongue. 

Sighing softly, Dani’s gaze drifted slowly towards the tree with it’s thick trunk and long limbs that stretched towards her window, leaves ruffling softly. Eddie was still murmuring diligently, reciting some passage that happened to be some poem or song. 

“He sought her ever, wandering far where leaves of years were thickly strewn. By light of moon and ray of star, in frosty heavens shivering. Her ma — “

“Eddie?” Dani interrupted softly.

Eddie fumbled over the words. “Yeah?”

“Do you still know how to climb trees?”

He was quiet for a long moment. “Sure. Yeah. I mean - I haven’t tried since Tommy dared me years ago, so I guess?”

“Do you think,” Dani started slowly, “that you could climb the one in my backyard?”

“Probably.”

“Would you?”

“What - like - right now?” 

“No, I - I - ” Dani stumbled, and swallowed thickly. 

“Danielle,” Eddie sighed, and there was the sound of a book being shut, “It’s late. I’m tired. I don’t really feel like risking breaking my neck right now, or your mom catching me. I don’t know which is worse, honestly.” 

His voice was starting to trail off in a lethargic slur before letting out a long yawn, and Dani bit back again the guilt that gnawed viciously through her chest. 

“Sorry, I - “ Dani said, standing upright, shoulders rigid, “I didn’t mean to keep you. Go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asked in a sleepy murmur, “You were upset.”

“I’m fine,” Dani lied, “I’m fine now. I promise.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathed, “Night, Danielle.”

“Good night.”

There came then a long silence. Suffocatingly empty, as though all the air had been drawn from her room. She exhaled slowly, a trembling breath that rattled through her teeth. Leaving the walkie talkie on her nightstand, she crawled back into bed, curling up back into a ball with her knees to her chest and let her heavy eyes be drawn back to the photo. Clenching her teeth hard, she shut her eyes where the memories of that day pressed against her eyelids as though it were a film reel, lulling her back into a restless sleep.

—

‘Dear Jamie,

Last night I dreamt you climbed up through my window sill. You held out your hand and said to come with you, as though you were Peter Pan and I was Wendy. I remember wanting to laugh, I think. I almost expected you to be wearing that outfit and that hat, but you were just you. Smiling at me. That’s all I remember really. 

I don’t think you ever knew how much that meant to me. That time you climbed up my window for real. Just to be here for me when I needed you without ever having to tell you. I think that’s one of the things I’m going to miss the most, how I never had to ask or say anything. You somehow always just seemed to know. I don’t think anyone was ever as good at it as you were. Except for Carson, maybe. 

Are you okay? Is Mikey? Are you eating enough? Is it getting any easier? I can’t stop thinking about it, how tired you looked when I last saw you. I keep thinking of all our time together and how we wasted so much of it at the end. I should have visited more, maybe. I should have tried harder to talk to you, to help, no matter how upset you got with me. I’m sorry. 

I wonder where you are now, where they took you and Mikey. Are you still in Iowa? Sometimes I like to imagine you on a beach somewhere, or in the mountains like you always wanted to see. I like imagining myself there with you, too. Mostly, I like to imagine you back here again. 

It’s getting harder, not having you here. Mom kept saying the most terrible things after you were gone that I won’t repeat here; it’ll just raise your blood pressure. Eddie tries to help, and I love him, but he’s always been scared of mom and I don’t think he knows how to deal with something like this. With losing so much all at once. The only thing he’s ever really lost was the baseball state championship. Judy does her best though, and so does Carson, but they don’t really talk about it. They miss you a lot. They don’t need to say it, but I can see it. 

I don’t know if you’ll ever get these letters. Most of the time it feels like I’m just addressing the side of my bed where you used to sleep when you stayed over. But I hope you know this isn’t some attempt being nosey, or guilt tripping you into something. All this is, is everything I can’t say out loud, all the things I couldn’t. That I still care and always will. That I’m here. That I can wait, however long it needs to be. 

Do you remember when we were thirteen at the cottage, bored out of our minds because the power cut out so we decided to go run and dance in the rain? I hope the next time you stand in the rain, you think of that and think of me, just as I do you.

- Dani

— 

The t-shirt didn’t smell like her anymore. Too many months of too many laundry days, and all Dani was left with now was worn fabric that felt softer than ever and a print of Debbie Harry’s face giving her a sidelong glance with the words ‘Blondie’ in blue cursive type above her head. She ran her hand over the embossed design, and without thinking Dani shucked off her shirt to toss on her bed beside a pile of fresh laundry, and slipped the Blondie t-shirt over her head. 

There was little to no relief in wearing it anymore. Not when it smelled sharp and clean of florals and downy, long missing the faint smell of earth, the practical detergent Nan favored, and just plain Jamie. It was simply a t-shirt now. An article of clothing that she once borrowed and slept in. Something that had been buried, forgotten, in her rucksack until it had been too late to return. No comfort in pretending she could fall back asleep within it, no comfort in hugging a too soft pillow and imagining it was someone else. Standing now in the middle of her room and running her hand over the soft fabric, Dani knew of course that it was fruitless to pretend, to wish. Even so she couldn’t help the thought running through her head every time: it didn’t smell like her anymore. 

The upended laundry basket had been tossed to one side of her room. She moved slowly, folding and setting aside laundry to be put away later. There was a distant ache travelling up the back of her neck to her head, a constant presence now along with the ache in her jaw from restless nights of grinding her teeth. As she bent low to tuck away a pile of pants into a drawer, a twinge pulsed over neck and the crown of her head. She winced, reaching up to dig her fingers into the offending muscles and nerves, gradually moving upright. Her fingers grazed against the cool metal of her necklace and she froze. 

Dani stood quietly with the ache and took stock, slipping her eyes shut and clenching her fist, listening carefully to the sounds of the house. The television laughed through the thin floors. There was the distant heartbeat of the washing machine all the way in the basement on its second load. And her mother, quiet within her own company. She took careful steps towards her door, left open just a crack from when she had swung the door shut with her foot, arms laden with a laundry basket. Music travelled up through the stairwell and through the hall, a theme song jingle for some sitcom. Drawing in a steadying breath, Dani pushed herself out of her room to brave downstairs.

She dodged the floorboards that creaked and groaned predictably on deft, quiet feet. Tendrils of cigarette smoke drifted from the living room as she passed, and even now, the thickness of it still choked the back of Dani’s throat. The kitchen was a reprieve, the windows wide open to let in the late summer breeze, the floor cool beneath her bare feet, and she went about filling up the kettle and setting it on the backburner of the stove to boil. 

She absently stretched and prodded at her neck as she moved throughout the kitchen, pressing against pinched nerves while digging out a tin of cookies to set some aside on a saucer for a late morning snack. Swinging open the cupboard that held all their mugs and glasses, Dani robotically pulled down her favored blue mug with scattered stars and reached further back, her hand darting about looking for a single mug in particular that kept hidden an old yet treasured altoid tin. But as she blindly probed the back of the cupboard, fingers searching for dented and scratched metal within ceramic, her brows slowly knitted when she came up empty.

Pulling her hand back, her frown deepened as she stared deep into the dark cupboard, her eyes darting over every corner. Something heavy seemed to drop and pull violently in her stomach, a tight cinch forming in her chest. Biting at her lip, Dani rose on her toes, shoving around mugs and cups, picking up and setting them aside when it wasn’t what she was looking for. A mug with floral designs, and a tin packed with precious tea, priceless hidden treasures.

Her breath was coming in fast, shallow and panicked and trapped within her chest, embers flaring within her lungs. “Mom?” she called out, her voice trembling, “Mom, where’s -?“

The kettle whistled. Dani gasped, the sound shrill and startling. She whipped around, her arm knocking into something hard, and ceramic shattered on the floor. Dani jumped back, bumping hard into the counter behind her, the corner digging painfully in her lower back. Pressing a hand to her sternum, her heart crashing against her ribs, Dani stood there wide eyed with pained shallow breaths, the kettle’s whistle shrill and loud, and at her feet, the scattered remains of her starry mug. 

“Jesus Christ -!” her mother called out from the other room, “What have you done now?”

Dani was frozen, her heart a claxon in her chest, a sharp whistle ringing through her ears. Out of the corner of her eye, Karen appeared in the kitchen doorway and exhaled heavily. 

“Goddamn it,” Karen said, a faint slur to her voice, carefully stepping around the disarray to pull the whistling kettle off the burner and twisting the knob with a click. “What is wrong with you? Look at this mess.”

Her mother continued on, blustering about in the kitchen, stepping around shards of ceramic, but Dani could barely hear her. The kettle was off the stove, but the ringing in her ears remained, shrill as a train whistle. Her breath shallow, her hands clenched into trembling fists at her side, she stared down the shattered remains of her mug, pieces of stars amongst a blue backdrop scattered along the floor like the big bang, hastily swept away by a frayed broom in her mothers hands. All at once, it felt as though the strained tension along her neck and scalp snapped and went taut, the necklace around her neck heavy like a noose. 

Karen sighed. “Relax, Danielle,” she said, “It was just a mug.”

But it wasn’t just a mug. It was over a decade of memories. It was sharing tea with Jamie during sleepovers. It was her dad’s bright grin when she unwrapped it for her seventh birthday. Dani shook her head, a movement so small that Karen didn’t even notice, dumping the remains of her mug in the trash can. 

“Mom?” Dani croaked, eyes unmoving from the floor, her eyes burning, “My tin - where’s my tin?”

Karen gave her a look of bewilderment, then rolled her eyes. “That old thing?” Karen stepped past her to replace the broom in the hallway closet. “It was an eyesore. I threw it and that old mug away. It had a crack in it.”

Nodding absently, feeling a sharp blow between her ribs, Dani bit her lips hard against the tremble of her chin, her throat growing thick. Her knees wobbled and she slowly sank to the floor, pulling her knees close to her chest with shaking hands. Sucking in a sharp, trembling breath that burned throughout her chest, Dani pressed her eyes shut and buried her face in her knees, digging her fingers into the skin of her shin, willing the floor to swallow her whole. 

Footsteps returned to the kitchen and came to a sudden halt. There was a long, slow sigh. “Honestly, it was just a mug,” her mother said, exasperated, “We can get you another one.” 

Dani shook her head, biting her lip hard until it hurt, until she tasted a coppery tang on her tongue. When Dani gave no further response, the kitchen drew silent and she could only imagine the frightened state of her as her mother made no other noise of moving away to leave Dani trembling on the floor. 

“Danielle?” her mom murmured, soft footsteps drawing closer. 

Curling further on herself, her shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around her knees, Dani turned her head away, trembling from the effort not to cry in front of her mother. There was the ruffling of clothes and movement, her mother’s form sinking down to sit beside her, the smell of smoke and her mother’s sweet morning facial cream permeating the air. 

“Honey?”

Dani squeezed her eyes shut, an ache spreading across her chest, the word spoken so abnormally soft and unsure, and for one long moment, Dani could hardly process it, could hardly remember the last time her mother had spoken to her in such a way. A hand suddenly drifted over her hair, a startled, hesitant touch. Slowly, she went stiff, the room still and quiet as Dani waited for a pin to drop, for a rug to be pulled from under her, only hearing the distant breeze from the open windows, the restless tap of the sink. And then the hand stroked through the tresses of her hair, gentle in a way that made Dani’s heart ache. Swallowing thickly, she turned her head and met her mother’s eyes.

It was strange, to see the glazed glass of her mother’s blue eyes behind her glasses and not find any of the usual hardness, the aimless anger or frustration. Instead, there was faint bewilderment. Instead, there was apprehensive concern. Tears slipped down Dani’s cheeks, and haltingly, her mother’s hand reached up to swipe away one with her thumb. Dani’s eyes slipped closed at the touch, and all at once, she felt something concave within her. 

“I’m sorry,” Dani whispered brokenly, feeling herself lean closer to her mom’s warmth, “Please, just -”

Her mom gradually wrapped her arms around her as though she didn’t really know what to do, but it was enough, and the ache within Dani’s chest burst open. A choked sob ripped through her, a dam of tears spilled over her cheeks, clutching her mom’s clothes as though that was the only thing tethering her together. 

“All right,” her mom whispered. 

Her mom held her tighter until Dani was curled into her lap, body shaking with violent sobs, feeling her mother’s hand run repeatedly over her hair. And it was all Dani could do but to hold on as she fractured into pieces on the kitchen floor.

—

The local grocery store had a new supplier; it was the talk of the town for a week. Her mother and her mother’s book club mused over the topic at length over cups of coffee and fragrant steam. They were talking about it when Dani braved the first floor of her house for a glass of water, and they were still talking about it when she returned downstairs to put on her shoes and go out to meet Eddie for a group project. Even Judy across the street had something to say, complaining about the sudden dearth of this or the wealth of that.

“I don’t see the big deal,” said Eddie without looking up from his notebook. “It’s just groceries.”

Secretly Dani agreed, but she did not say anything. They were seated at the dining table with their textbooks open to various pages. Dani had brought her bag of various colored pens and highlighters, its contents spilling across the wooden surface.

“In that case,” Judy replied, “you can come with me to the supermarket. Come on.”

He blinked up at his mother in befuddlement. “But we’re working on a school thing,” he said, gesturing to Dani sitting beside him.

“And you can work on it when you get back.” When Judy waved at him, the keys in her grasp jangled. “Let’s go. Danielle, honey, you can stay here, if you want.”

“No, I’ll come, too,” said Dani, pushing her seat back and standing.

Eddie huffed, but dutifully rose to his feet and followed his mother into the garage. The three of them piled into the sedan parked there, and Judy drove.

“Don’t see why we need to come at all,” Eddie said from the backseat.

“Maybe I need a few hands to help push a cart and carry bags,” Judy drawled, signalling before she turned down a street. “Or maybe I just want your delightful company, Edmund Kyle O’Mara.”

At the sound of his full name being used, Eddie sank a few inches in his seat and went quiet. Clearing her throat, Dani braved the silence that followed with a tentative attempt at conversation, which managed to get them all the way to the store without further incident. By the time they stepped out of the car and into the shop, Eddie had stopped his teenage sulking and was helpfully trotting off to grab a cart. He wheeled it after his mother, trailing dutifully in her wake.

The air inside the grocery store was slightly more cool than outside. It felt like a dampness on the skin. Dani shivered against it and tugged down the sleeves of the jumper she had stolen from Eddie’s closet earlier that afternoon. She cast a surreptitious eye about the place, half expecting her mother to appear from between one of the aisles and catch Dani wearing something so unflattering in public. No matter how hard Dani tried, she couldn’t shake herself of the feeling, and after a few minutes of idly perusing through the produce aisle behind Eddie and Judy, she removed the sweater and rolled it up beneath her arm instead despite the chill.

“Mom, can we get some of these?” Eddie asked, already holding up a bag of corn chips.

“Sure, honey,” Judy murmured, distracted by the list of items scrawled onto a piece of paper in her hand.

Dani peered over Judy’s shoulder at the list. “I can go get the washing powder.”

“Oh, would you? Thanks, sweetheart.”

Dropping the bundled up sweater into the cart, Dani wandered off in search of the right aisle. She turned down what she thought was the proper one, and blinked in surprise to find that nothing was in its right place anymore. For a brief moment, she thought she must have turned down the wrong aisle, and she craned her neck back to read the sign that hung from the ceiling. In the seventeen years she had lived in North Liberty, the shelves had never been rearranged. With a furrow of her brow, Dani retreated and went down the next aisle and the next again. Finally, she found what she was looking for, but no sooner had she reached the home cleaning supplies section than she froze. 

Before her a wall of brightly colored cardboard boxes and plastic containers loomed. Rows upon rows. Arms wrapped around her midriff to ward off the prickle of cold, Dani’s gaze traced the lines of unfamiliar brand names in a wandering path, trying to find something, anything, that looked even remotely recognizable. But whatever brands the new supplier had stocked were so utterly unfamiliar, that Dani felt herself go stock-still. 

It didn’t matter. She knew it didn’t matter. Any of these would do the trick. It was the uncertainty, the unknowing. Wanting something so mundane — just one thing, just this one thing — to be a mindless decision. And for a fleeting moment, she found herself wondering if this was what all the fuss was about, if this was what it meant. Homesickness. A longing for the return of normalcy. Just for this. Just for a moment.

“Did you find it?” 

Whirling around, eyes wide, Dani found Eddie trundling the shopping cart down the aisle towards her. “What?” she asked.

He stopped, glanced at the wall of washing powders, and reached out to grab a box at random, hauling it into the cart along with the rest of the items. 

“Why that one?” Dani asked, pointing.

Pausing to consider the question, Eddie shrugged. “Who cares? It’s just washing powder.” Then he turned the cart and smiled. “Come on. Mom’s this way.” 

—

‘Dear Jamie, 

I finally had to get rid of that scarf you gave me for Christmas. One of the ends unravelled. I borrowed Judy’s sewing machine and patched it back up, but it only delayed the inevitable. 

On the plus side, I got to pick out a new one at a store in Davenport. The car ride with mom wasn’t great, but I think you’d like the scarf I picked in the end. I actually turned around, thinking mom was you standing behind me to show it to you. Don’t think I’ll make that mistake again any time soon. 

Do you still have the scarf I gave you? Is it cold where you are? Hopefully not. It’s starting to get cold again here. I wish winter would go faster. The only good part about snow is that you liked it. 

Still, it’s not all bad. I finally said yes to a date with Eddie.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, but be nice. It was actually kind of fun. We went to the diner and then for a walk. He gave me his gloves because I was cold and I’d left mine at home. Judy, of course, was thrilled. And mom was — well. You know how she is.  

I miss you. Stay warm.

-Dani.’

—

Her mother had been snooping around in Dani’s bedroom again. Dani could tell. Dani could always tell. There was a delicate balance to every aspect of Dani’s things — the way she hung her clothes, the way she made her bed, the way she left her closet door open just so, the way she positioned a tiny slip of paper into the shut door, so that upon re-entry she could glance around and see exactly what had or had not changed. 

“Just a bit of cleaning,” was Karen’s usual excuse. 

Not that Dani ever confronted her about it. Not really. Simple queries like “Were you looking for something?” were not confrontation. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” was the usual reply. 

Or, “It’s my house, Danielle. I can go where I want.” 

Or even, “No. Do I need to be looking for something?” 

Though the latter was usually reserved for the days when her mother was feeling particularly distrustful. As if Dani had something to hide. As if Dani were holding a door desperately shut, while her mother rattled the handle on the other side. 

Shutting the door behind her, Dani leaned her back against it and surveyed the room. Karen had been looking under her bed. The sheet had rumpled from where she precariously tucked it just that morning. Dani’s grip tightened around the plain wooden box in her hands as she took note of the minute changes, cataloguing where her mother had been snooping and inevitably come up empty-handed.

As if Dani would be so foolish as to hide something beneath her bed. Honestly.

For a moment she listened to the sounds outside her bedroom, but there was nothing concerning. Her mother was still downstairs watching television after a day’s work. How she even found the time to go snooping was a mystery in and of itself.

With a sigh, Dani stepped towards her closet door. Pushing it open, she dropped down to her knees and reached behind a conveniently located half chest of drawers. A press of her fingers in just the right place, and the false panel popped open. She set it aside, then reached in to pull out the crawlspace’s contents one at a time.

An old band t-shirt.

A book.

A Zippo lighter.

A necklace.

A stack of photographs bound by a rubber band.

A cassette tape.

Dani sat, cross-legged, on the floor of her closet, surrounded by a fanning array of items as though at the center of a summoning circle. The box she held in her lap. It was plain and wooden with a bronze latch. The plainer the better. Less likely to arouse suspicion, should it be exhumed.

She hesitated to touch the t-shirt, her fingertips grazing the edge of the fabric as though afraid it would disintegrate at the slightest provocation. Her hand moved to the photographs. She peeled back the rubber band and flipped through the glossy pages. At some point in time, she had labelled the backs of each one. 

Here was Jamie in 1976 at an Oaks game with Eddie, eating a hotdog and looking bored while Eddie cheered in the background. Here was Jamie laughing and reaching out towards the camera so that she was blurred with motion. Here was Jamie just a little over a year ago passed out on the couch, while Mikey was fast asleep on her stomach. Here was Jamie. Here was Jamie. Here was –

Nausea coiled faintly in Dani’s stomach. Abruptly, she wrenched open the box’s lid and began to shove all the items inside. It took a bit of furtive rearranging for everything to fit, and then her trembling thumb was pressing the latch shut with a final and resounding click. Her breath was coming fast and sharp. Dani had to close her eyes and steady herself, the feeling of the box beneath her hands, squeezing it shut as though afraid its contents might batter against the lid, yowling to be set free. 

Movements quick and furtive, Dani shoved the box behind the false panel in her closet. And sometimes at night, she swore she could hear it clawing against the wall. 

—

‘Dear Jamie, 

Have you ever felt like you were walking towards something you should be running away from? Everything feels like it’s moving so fast. Homework keeps piling up. Mom won’t stop breathing down my neck about my grades and college. Eddie asked me on another date. I feel like I’ve had a headache everyday just this week alone, and nothing I’m doing to stop it has helped. 

I know it’s impossible, I know I need to stop thinking about it, but I wish you were here. You were always good at slowing things down and helping me relax. Whether we were sneaking out at night to the movies, or just sitting quietly together in either of our rooms. 

I don’t remember the last time I was ever that relaxed. All I can do is smile and pretend that everything is okay. And honestly, I’ll tell you a little secret: sometimes I believe it myself. Sometimes I find myself laughing at something and wondering where it came from. Like all the doors to the rooms within me were slammed shut, and the only one cracked open was this mask I don’t recognize. Has that ever happened to you? 

I’m sorry, I should really stop dumping all this on you. 

In happier news, I have a small job lined up this summer! I’ll be babysitting the Newman's five and eight year olds. They even have a small dog with curly brown hair just like yours. His name is Jax, and he’s very cute. It’s not a lot of money, but it’s something to keep my hands busy after school’s over. Didn’t Nan say something about that once? Something about moral fiber and idle hands? Anyways, it’s something, and certainly better than sitting around doing nothing. 

I hope you’re well. I hope you’re happy. Miss you. 

- Dani

—

The school entrance was nothing short of spectacularly adorned of ribbons, balloons, and a banner that read: Homecoming. Groups of students dressed in fancy attire loitered at the front while slowly streaming inside. In the passenger’s seat of one of the O’Mara’s cars, Dani hid her clenched fists in the folds of her pale pink dress and worried at her lower lip as she watched through the windshield. A hand reached out to lightly grasp her fist. 

“Hey,” Eddie said, gently unclasping her clenched hand to hold over the console, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dani rushed out, aiming a weak grin at Eddie, “Of course. Just - nervous I guess.”

He gave her a kind smile. “It’s okay. Me too, honestly,” he said, and chuckled lightly, pushing his glasses up his nose in a way he usually did when he was nervous. “Kind of feels like we’re sitting in a fishbowl already.” 

Dani breathed out an awkward chuckle in lieu of responding, nerves straining beneath her skin. 

“But hey,” Eddie continued, lightly shaking her hand and ducking his head to get a better look at her face in the lowlight of the car, “I’m really happy you decided to come with me.”

“Me too,” Dani murmured, not meeting his eyes. 

And it wasn’t untrue for the most part. It only just took her the long, winding road to get there. Days and weeks of Eddie asking with hopeful eyes and a gentle tone, only to end with a disappointed nod of his head whenever she had told him no or given an indecisive answer. It was too early to decide. She wasn’t in the mood. She was too busy. But finally, he had worn her down with the promise of all the ice cream she could want, and a night away from home.

In the car now, his eyes shone brightly from the distant light of the school entrance, his grin gentle and fond. “I know - I know it’s been hard lately. With everything,” he started hesitantly, his thumb running over her knuckles, “But let’s try to have fun. I really want to give you a night where you didn’t have to think about anything. Not school, or your mom, or - “ he paused, and smiled weakly, his eyes ducking briefly, the jaw of his muscle jumping “ - or anything else. Just us, having fun.”

Drawing in a low breath, Dani nodded, braving a faint smile. “And remember,” Eddie said, “We can bail any time if we’re not having fun. Get some ice cream, find a party to crash.”

Dani chuckled and Eddie grinned broadly, boyishly sweet and handsome in his blue suit. “Okay,” Dani murmured, and exhaled. “Okay. I’m ready.”

It was easy, letting Eddie jump out and round the car to open the door for her with his hand held out. Easy to slip her hand back into his and let him lead her into the school. Easy to let him murmur in her ear how pretty he thought she looked. She plastered on a soft smile in the hopes of coming across as shy at the compliment instead of how abnormally strange it felt hearing those words come from him after all this time. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard him compliment her before, but they were becoming more regular by the day along with those long, captivated smiles, and all Dani could do was tuck the uneasiness away and push it aside. 

Instead, she let herself take in the school as they entered, to greet her friends and schoolmates with waves and bright smiles and hugs. To let her eyes scan over the gymnasium when they finally entered, decorated in a bare fairy tale theme. String lights strewn along the walls and above their heads, fake flowers and plants stuck to the walls and placed as centerpieces on circular tables. It was pretty but simple, for all the school budget had to spare, but no one seemed to care. With pop music blaring from the rented stereo system, there was already a plethora of students on the dancefloor and lingering beside a long table of drinks and snacks. 

Eddie nudged Dani lightly and bent low for her to hear him say, “How much do you wanna bet that someone spiked the punch already?”

Dani laughed and shook her head. “I don’t need to bet,” she said, and nodded towards the table, “Look.”

Following her line of sight, they both looked to find none other than Sterling sneaking furtive glances around for any nearby teachers or chaperons before carefully pouring in a healthy amount of white liquor from a flask. 

Eddie laughed and gave her a grin. “You want some?”

Immediately, Dani’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. “Um - maybe later?”

Eddie shrugged. “Sure,” he said, and tugged gently at her hand, “Ready then?”

Taking another long scan around the room, Dani finally nodded and let Eddie pull her deeper into the crowded room. 

There was something to be said with mixing spiked punch, loud music that hammered against your chest, and a crowd of teenagers in one room. The razor facades in school hallways and lunch cliques fading away to awkward but zealous dancing, tears and arguments in gymnasium corners and bathrooms, cheap blue lights that shone above and reflected off of tinsel and sequins. And even as she felt eyes on them throughout the night, even as Eddie smiled broad and proud as her friends complimented how cute they looked together, the facade Dani had painted on remained and she managed to tuck it all away, determined to have fun for the first time in months. Lingering on the outskirts of the dancefloor with Eddie, laughing at his commentary and sharing the occasional dance with him or a cluster of her friends when she felt brave enough. 

She had even let herself share a dance with Roger. Eddie had let them go with a good natured roll of his eyes and broad grin. She hadn’t spoken to Roger much recently, not since long before the summer holidays when Nan’s anniversary had come around, but he was still as friendly as ever while they conversed and danced slowly at a respectable distance. But when his smile slowly faltered, a look of somber hesitance crossing his face, Dani felt her heart sink.

“Listen, um - “ Roger started, “I didn’t get the chance to tell you before. Didn’t know when was a good time really, but I just wanted to say sorry. Y’know, about Jamie - “

“It’s fine,” Dani interrupted quickly, just a little sharply. He blinked and slowly nodded, ducking his head, and Dani said again more softly, “It’s fine.”

Roger nodded again and offered her a faint smile, and that was that. They finished their dance and Roger let her quietly slip away with a thanks and apology. She aimed a weak smile at him and went in search of Eddie. When she found him, he was sipping deeply from a red cup by the table and brightened when he spotted her.

“Want one now?”

Fixing her eyes on the bowl of punch, Dani gritted her teeth through a thin smile and nodded. And just as she had expected, the taste was similar to a sweet, pungent acid that burned on the way down. Eddie laughed when she twisted her face, but gamely she took another long sip.

“Careful,” Eddie chuckled, “Don’t want to end up like Kyle, do you?” He jerked his head towards a form slumped over on a table. 

“Oh,” Dani said, wincing, “I hope he’s okay.” But when Kyle was roughly jostled awake by a friend and staggered to his feet to be dragged away somewhere, she breathed out a laugh and shook her head. 

“Seems fine to me,” Eddie said, and when a fun disco song transitioned to a slow ballad, a look of shy eagerness overtook him. He drew in a slow breath and nudged the back of her hand with his. “Hey - do you want to dance again?”

Dani hesitated. She had been expecting this question all night, but still was not prepared for the way her heart hammered abruptly against her ribs. Swallowing thickly at Eddie’s hopeful eyes, his glasses reflecting bright fairy lights as though they were stars, Dani slowly nodded with a faint smile. 

Eddie blinked in surprise. “Really?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” Dani lied, feeling her stomach sour, but a broad smile bloomed on Eddie’s face, brightening his features, and she couldn’t help but feel her heart soften at the sight of it. 

Without a word, he took her hand and guided her onto the dance floor, wedging them through couples with their arms around each other, slow dancing. Dani kept her head low, focused on the path they took rather than the room encompassing them, the unnerving sense of eyes watching them returning, settling over her like cold water. 

All their dances so far had been set to upbeat music, spinning each other around and competing on who knew the most popular dance moves, instigated by Eddie in an effort to make her laugh. She had been grateful, but with every slow song that came and went, she could feel Eddie’s shoulders bunch beside her as he gave her careful sidelong glances when he thought she wasn’t looking. 

But Dani was always looking, waiting and anticipating every look or touch of the hand, never having the heart to turn him away, and worse, not knowing why. And this was no different. This was Eddie putting his hands around her waist, this was Eddie giving her a nervous grin as she placed her hands on his shoulders, this was the slow sway they easily fell into, the sound of the ballad pressing on Dani’s eardrums. 

There was a look of faint wonder on Eddie’s face as they danced, as though he had never expected them to end up here when the night began. There was an intensity to it that Dani wondered maybe if this was the part where she was supposed to feel the same way in return, that giddy, lovestruck feeling that all the other girls talked about regarding the boys they liked. As she let her eyes drift across his face, breathing in his fresh and sharp cologne, he was still the same Eddie. Still the same boy who spent most of his time with his nose stuck in a book or rehearsing for a Model UN debate, whose sweaters she stole and whose hugs felt warm and safe. There was a strange sense of both disappointment and relief within her, and in an effort to not think about why, she stepped closer to press against his chest to feel that same comforting warmth. 

As she wrapped her arms fuller around him, she felt more than heard him chuckle, a hand moving to smooth up and down her back. 

“Having fun?” he murmured. Dani nodded against the stiff fabric of his suit, humming affirmatively in response. “I’m glad,” he continued softly, “That was all I wanted.”

Without warning, her throat grew thick and she bit her tongue to quell the feeling, exhaling slowly when she managed to push it away. “Thank you,” Dani murmured, her eyes slipping closed, listening to the rapid thumps of his heart, “I think I really needed this.”

“Any time,” Eddie said, “God knows I needed it too. Have I told you yet how glad I am you agreed to come with me?”

Dani chuckled. “Once or twice,” she said, “But feel free to mention it again if you have to.”

But Eddie didn’t, remaining silent as they continued to sway. It only took her a moment to realize why, feeling his shoulders tense and his chest gradually expand as he drew in what seemed to be a fortifying deep breath. Her eyes flickered open, her breath caught in anticipation. 

“Danielle?” Eddie started, carefully soft.

“Yeah?” she whispered, a pool of trepidation whirling in her stomach.

“Can I kiss you?”

For all the nerves she felt beneath her skin, for the way her heart crashed against her chest, there was a distinct lack of surprise ringing through her. Dani had been expecting this, she had heard of all the ways the other girls expected and hoped their own nights to go with their dates, she just hadn’t been expecting it so soon. This was always supposed to happen, wasn’t it, Dani thought as she slowly pulled back to meet Eddie’s eyes, wide with hopeful anxiety. 

She could say no, she could gently let him down, tell him she wasn’t ready yet, that she may never be. And he’d understand, he’d nod and duck his head unable to hide his somber disappointment. She could keep telling him no until he finally gave up, until he was unable to look her in the eyes anymore, until he was asking for space and neglected to call her back or invite her over for dinner. Until he slipped away like sunlight between her trembling fingers, taking Judy and Carson and the rest of the family with him until all Dani was left with was a cold house that wanted to eat her whole, and her mother, both a ghost and puppeteer in equal measure. 

Dani’s heart was racing, she realized. Panicked thoughts rushing through her mind at lightspeed, a future that felt like a long dark tunnel with no end in sight. She exhaled slowly and met Eddie’s gaze, waiting with increasingly nervous eyes. Offering him a weak smile, she reached up to push his glasses up his nose and cup his cheek, feeling a faint stubble beneath her palm, and finally, she nodded. 

He blinked, a slow look of deep affection bloomed over him, his eyes drifting down to her mouth. “You sure?” he mumbled. 

When she nodded wordlessly again, not trusting to speak, Eddie smiled wide and slowly bent down to capture her lips with his. It was soft and chaste, just as it had been all that time ago at a house party, and Dani found it to be almost pleasant for all the stirring emotion she didn’t feel. He made a soft, happy sound and his hands pressed her incriminantly closer before he finally pulled away, dazed and enamored. 

“Wow,” he murmured under his breath.

This is the part, Dani told herself, where you kiss him again. 

Confetti was suddenly drifting around them, sparkling gold and silver, and a thrilled clamor passed over the room. They both peered around and found confetti cannons on stage erupting with more glittering paper, and Eddie laughed.

“Perfect timing,” he said, his cheeks pink, his eyes bright and happy. 

Dani chuckled in lieu of not knowing what to say, ducking her eyes and easing back into his chest, but then the song changed, transitioning into something softer. Familiar soft harmonies interspersed with sparse instruments. Recognition gradually fell upon her like a slow crashing wave, like the glittering confetti drifting over her. Dani sucked in a low breath and froze, her eyes going wide and her mouth slowly dropping open. The song reverberated around the room and pressed against her chest, squeezing tight like a band until it was hard to breath. 

“Danielle?” Eddie said, feeling the sudden tension in her shoulders, bewildered and concerned, “You okay?”

“Um - “ Dani croaked, a tremble in her voice, easing out of his arms and unable to look him in the eyes, “I just - can you give me a moment? I need to go to the bathroom.”

She slowly backed away, and out of the corner of her eyes she could see him frowning. He called out her name again, but Dani didn’t deign to respond. Her jaw taut and her fists clenched, Dani pushed her way through the crowd at a brisk pace with quick shallow breaths, the song ringing in her ears like a train whistle. She pushed and pushed until she was surging out of the gym and into the hallway, the door clanging open. It was quieter in the hallway, the music muffled now through the doors, but it wasn’t enough. 

There were other classmates loitering around in small groups in the hall, some glancing her way at the sudden noise of her appearance but didn’t linger long. Steeling herself, a desperate thrum beneath her skin that felt like she was being clawed inside out, Dani moved past them further down the hall, her feet heavy like lead, her head ducked with her eyes glued to the ground until she arrived finally to the girls bathroom at the end of the wing. She pushed open the door and let it creak closed behind her. 

A pressure swelled within her in the quiet of the bathroom, bursting from her chest in sharp, quickening breaths now that she was alone. Embers bloomed from her lungs with every sharp inhale, her head spinning so that she stumbled forward to grip the damp countertop with white knuckles, the edge digging into her palms as she squeezed her eyes shut. 

“Fuck,” she whispered in between gasping breaths, her voice cracking from the strain, feeling as though she were drowning on molten lava, burning a path through her chest. 

She pressed a palm to her sternum, sucking in lungfuls of air, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress, and focused to slow her breath, to swallow down the panic swelling within her throat. An inhale, and an exhale, trembling but slow, again and again until she could finally hear past the rush of blood in her ears and feel the walls expand again from where they were pressing on her. And just as resigned herself that the burn in her lungs would remain until she retrieved her inhaler from the car, a door behind her slowly creaked open. 

Dani sucked in a sharp breath, eyes snapping open as she jerked upright, frozen to the spot. Immediately, a heavy stone of dread and embarrassment sank in her stomach when through the mirror, Jackie emerged from a stall, dressed to the nines in a sparkling periwinkle dress with her hair perfectly coiffed and feathered. Their eyes briefly met, and Dani promptly ducked her head, hastily wiping at her burning cheeks, her shoulders hunching. 

The clack of heels sounded behind her in the uneasy quiet, moving closer until Jackie was a few sinks down from her, eerily silent as she twisted open the faucet to wash her hands. Dani swallowed thickly, her jaw clenched and her breath caught in anticipation, her heart a claxon in her chest. Waiting for the usual taunting jeer, for a cruel laugh that never came. Instead, there was a silence between them that Dani was unused to, leaving her feeling as though she was teetering over the edge of a great capricious cliff, waiting for a hand to push her off. 

Hesitantly, Dani’s eyes slowly drifted up towards their reflections. There was Dani, haggard and hollow-eyed with red stained cheeks. And there was Jackie, slowly meeting her gaze with an expression that was both faintly uncomfortable and tentative. Jackie promptly looked away. Rooted to the spot, Dani watched out of the corner of her eyes as Jackie turned off the faucet to dry her hands with paper towels, and without a word, without another glance back, swung open the bathroom door to make a swift exit. Blinking in the silence, utterly perplexed and exhausted, Dani’s eyes slipped shut and her shoulders slumped with a slow exhale. 

She stood there for a few minutes longer, leaning heavily against the counter. Washing her hands with cold water, letting it run long over her fingers and wrists. Splashing cool droplets over her cheeks and neck to cool the burn. Stood there until some semblance of control smoothed over her, until reality shifted back from it’s prism of panic. 

Exhaling slowly, she made to finally exit the bathroom, but when she swung open the door, she paused when she was greeted with Eddie leaning against the opposite wall with his hands deep in his pockets, his brow furrowed with worry. When he spotted her, his eyes lit up with concern and he stood upright. 

“Hey,” he murmured, taking a step towards her, his eyes scanning over her, “Are you okay? You look -“

“It’s -” Dani started, stumbling over the words as she neared him, “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” he said, “You got out of there so fast, and now you look exhausted. And then Jackie told me where you were, which was weird. Wait - did she say something to you? What happened?”

Dani was shaking his head before he even stopped speaking. “It’s - it was nothing. Just - “ the words lodged themselves in the back of her throat. “Can we - um,” Dani said in a whisper, staring resolutely at his tie and not his eyes, “Can we get some air?”

Eddie was already nodding. “Yeah, sure,” he said, “Whatever you want.”

He led her down the hall towards the front doors, and Dani followed wordlessly, easily falling into step with him, almost unseeing, her eyes glued to the floor. It was easy to let him guide her, almost a relief that she didn’t have to focus more beyond putting one foot in front of another, to breathe in the cool evening air when they finally stepped outside. They walked for a few minutes longer, and without even realizing it, Dani found herself being guided to sit down on the first row of bleachers of the school stadium. 

Exhaling a slow breath that rattled in her chest, the embers there a dying glow, she wrapped her arms around herself and hunched within her shoulders. A warm suit jacket was strewn over her shoulders, and she shot Eddie an appreciative smile when he sank to sit beside her. He grinned softly and took her hand once again. 

“How’s this?” he asked softly. 

“Better,” Dani murmured, “Thank you.” 

“No problem,” Eddie said, and visibly hesitated. “You want to tell me what happened now?”

Dani clenched her teeth, letting her eyes scan over the darkened field, tracing over the red track, and felt a dim ache in her chest. Her eyes glazing over, her thumb drifted towards her mouth and she bit down hard into the skin and nail until there was the faint taste of copper in her mouth.

“Hey - Danielle. Hey -!” Eddie grabbed her hand and pulled it gently from her mouth to hold in a tight grasp, looking stricken. 

“Sorry,” Dani croaked, and cleared her throat, “Sorry.”

Eddie shook his head, looking at a loss for words, eyes darting over the field for a moment before meeting her gaze. “No, I’m - I’m sorry,” he said, contrite, “I should have taken you to the car instead.”

Nodding faintly, Dani ducked her head. “Sorry I ruined tonight.”

Shaking his head, Eddie shifted closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You didn’t,” he murmured, “Just means we can go get ice cream now.”

Breathing out a weak chuckle, Dani faintly said, “Yeah. Sounds nice, actually.”

Eddie pulled her closer, his hand rubbing a warm path over her shoulder and arm, audibly swallowed hard, and finally said, “I miss her, too.”

—

‘Dear Jamie,

I visited Nan today. I brought a bouquet of her favorite flowers and cleaned up her gravestone. I hope that’s all right, that I went to see her. I don’t visit as often as I used to, or talk to her as much anymore. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s been rolling her eyes at how much I talk, but I think she secretly enjoys the company. I went to see my dad too. I don’t really remember the last time I visited him, just that mom got upset when she found out and didn’t talk to me for a few days. I haven’t been since until today. It was nice, I told him all about you. I think you two would have gotten along. 

I went to see the house again too. Sometimes I just find myself there without realizing it, driving or walking past, and I’ve done so enough that it doesn’t feel as shocking anymore to see how it’s decayed. The broken and boarded windows, and the overgrown grass. Nan would catch a fit if she saw what happened to it. It’s not pretty inside either. Everything is gone. The wallpaper and paint are peeling and there’s debris everywhere that I could almost hear Nan yelling at us to clean up. The backyard is just as bad as you can imagine. Your bike is still there, but the tire swing is gone. All that’s left is the rope hanging from the tree, just waiting for an accident to happen. 

When I was walking through the old bedrooms when I had the sudden thought: I could live here. Now, look, I know it sounds crazy but it wouldn’t be too hard. Just a bit of elbow grease and a little money for repairs and new furniture. I could live here all alone and no one would ever find me. I’d have my white curtains and blue shutters. A reading nook in the corner with an armchair like Nan’s. A garden of fresh fruits and vegetables in the back. Rooms that smelled of flowers and fresh laundry. My own little corner of the world like I once told you about. But I guess it was just a dream. 

I suppose I just wanted to see it for myself. It’s been a while now since you left, and for so long I hoped to see you again, but seeing the house like that, discarded and forgotten like a carcass in the woods, I think I understand now. There is no going back. Even when I wake up every night and I want to call you to tell you everything and that I can’t sleep, I remember. 

Sometimes I feel like I miss you more than I remember you, and I don’t know what to do with that, or where to put it all. So, I suppose I have to leave it here. At the cottage and in this letter. 

Speaking of letters, I got my college acceptance letters today. It’s not what you had hoped for me probably, not the freedom we had both once imagined, but I like to think you might be proud of me at least. It’s a step towards something, towards teaching like I’ve always wanted, and that has to count for something, right?

I hope you know I’m proud of you too, wherever you are and whatever you might be doing. 

- Dani

—

The party was far too reminiscent of one she had attended years ago. She had not attended many since, preferring to mingle outside of student housing and on the steps of the library. Not unless corralled by etiquette – de rigeur to a fault.

Dani hunched her shoulders and squeezed herself tighter into the corner as someone passed by without so much as a glance in her direction. “Sorry,” she mumbled and clutched her red plastic cup to her chest.

From this vantage point, Dani could see the entirety of the living room, the open back door leading to the lawn, the pillars framing the entrance to the kitchen. A strange house full of strange people. People draped across the couches, people perched upon the armrests of chairs, people grouped up in packs, people talking loudly over the music, people circulating drinks and no food, people stripping off their shirts and lowering themselves into the outdoor jacuzzi beneath a night-darkened sky.

Taking a sip of her drink – hard alcohol mixed with whatever canned pop was stashed in the fridge – Dani scanned the crowd for any sign of the girl who had invited her in the first place. The girl who sat beside her in class. The girl who invited Dani and who only ever referred to Eddie as ‘the boyfriend.’ The girl with dark hair and dark skin and dark eyes, who took every opportunity to lean in close and whisper jokes in Dani’s ear during lectures, who had grasped Dani’s hand warmly upon first meeting and introduced herself as Lila.

It took Dani a moment to find her. There were so many people bunched about. At one point she thought she saw Eddie outside, conversing with a group of students from the engineering department. His glasses gleamed as he laughed. Knowing he was near enough to reach in a moment was enough. Idly Dani glanced towards the far corner, nearest the unlit fireplace, and froze. 

Lila stood in the corner in full view of the rest of the house, very clearly kissing another girl from their year group. Nobody seemed to care or even notice. Nobody except Dani, who stared at the slant of their mouths together, at the grasp of Lila’s hand at the other girl’s waist, at the ease and obvious delight with which they kissed — sloppy yet smiling.

Dani heard more than felt the plastic cup in her hand crumple slightly, and the contents of her cup were abruptly squeezed out, overflowing onto her wrist and the front of her blouse. Swearing under her breath, Dani set the plastic cup down on a side table already cluttered with absent drinks and cans of cheap beer. She shook out her hand and looked down at her blouse. It wasn’t stained, but a splotch of the pale material was now nearly transparent, showing the outline of Dani’s bra beneath. 

With a sigh, she squeezed her way past a few people, apologising as she went, until she made it to an uncrowded hallway. There, she peered into an open door, discovered that the room was indeed the bathroom, and slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. 

She was standing before the sink and reaching for a wash towel when she saw him. A dark and faceless figure in the mirror, looming over her reflection’s shoulder like a shade. Eyes wide, Dani whirled around with a gasp, brandishing the hand towel as though it were a weapon. 

The towel knocked the apparition sideways. It was, she realised, made of cardboard. A life sized cut out figure of Michael Myers. A prank, perhaps. A vestigial decoration from a recent Halloween party, more likely. 

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered to herself. 

Heart still pounding in her chest, Dani shook her head and turned back around. She dabbed at her blouse to very little effect, before resigning herself to the fact that she could do nothing but wait for it to dry. 

Voices outside the door. Then the tramp of footsteps receding down the hallway. There was a knock, and Dani called out, “Just a minute!” 

Checking her reflection one last time in the mirror — and casting a glare at the cardboard cut out for good measure — Dani opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway. The empty hallway. She shut the bathroom door behind her with a click, frowning down the hall towards the main room and the party.

“Having fun?”

Dani jerked around to find Lila leaning against the wall and smiling. “Oh! Hi! Yeah, I – uh –” Dani made a small gesture towards the hallway at large. “I like your house.”

“Thanks. I rent it with, like, six other people.”

“That’s a lot.”

Lila shrugged. “Still better than the dormitories. More privacy.”

“With six other people?”

“Maybe less privacy,” Lila amended with a grin. “More freedom, though.”

“Sounds nice,” Dani agreed. “Which room is yours?”

It was meant to be an innocent question, but the moment it slipped out Dani winced. Lila’s grin broadened and her eyes flicked down to the see-through mark on Dani’s shirt.

“I just meant –” Dani stammered.

“Yeah?”

“It’s – It’s a big house. Easy to get lost in."

Lila nodded. “It is.” Then she pointed down the hallway, further away from the living room. “Mine’s that one on the right. I would invite you in, but it’s a mess right now.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” said Dani, then went bright red. Perhaps one of those boys in the kitchen had poured more rum into her cup than she’d originally thought.

Biting back a snort of laughter, Lila shook her head. “You really do make this too easy.”

Dani grimaced. “Sorry.”

“That’s all right. I thought you were straight? Didn’t you come here with the boyfriend?”

Dani’s mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. Finally she managed to swallow past the pressure at her throat, and said, “I did. I mean – I am. He’s – around. Somewhere. I think.”

Lila nodded sagely. “Mmm. Yes. Very convincing.”

“That’s –” Dani clamped her teeth shut and cast a furtive look down each end of the hallway, but nobody was coming towards them. Nobody seemed to be eavesdropping. “Did you need something?”

Lila’s eyebrows rose. She cocked her head, still smiling faintly. “Yeah,” she said, taking a step closer. “Actually, I do.”

“Oh?” Dani could feel herself tense, her hands clenching into fists at her side. The air was too warm, cloying, and Lila’s eyes were keen as darts.

Lila reached out and for a brief breathless moment Dani thought she was going to touch her – grasp her gently by the arm, cup her cheek, take her chin between clever fingers and guide Dani by the jaw – only for Lila to turn the doorknob just behind Dani.

“I need to pee,” said Lila. “And you’re standing right in front of the bathroom.”

An unexpected burst of laughter escaped Dani then. She leaned back against the shut door, lifting a hand to cover her face, laughing into her palm. Lila grinned at her as Dani slipped out of the way with a series of breathless apologies.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lila told her, giving Dani a wave even as she shut the bathroom door. “See you in class!”

“Yeah,” Dani waved back and ducked her head, relieved to be heading back down the hall in search of Eddie. 

It wasn’t that Lila wasn’t nice. Because she was. And it wasn’t that people at the party weren’t nice. Because they were. A few tried to engage her in conversation while she crossed the main room to get to the back door. She was just tired, Dani told herself. She wanted to go home. 

It had nothing to do with the thrill skittering beneath her ribs. Nothing at all to do with the fact that Dani had no idea what she would have done if Lila had made some sort of advance. Balked? Probably not. Accepted? Surely not. 

Surely not. 

That wasn’t her. Dani wasn’t that person. 

“Hey,” Eddie greeted her with a smile when she found him still engaged in conversation with a group out back. “How’s it going?”

Dani wrapped a hand around his arm. “Fine. Can we go? Sorry. I know it’s early.”

“That’s all right,” one of the other guys said — she didn’t know any of their names. He winked at Eddie and patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll catch up next week, yeah?”

Eddie’s answering chuckle sounded slightly nervous and he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Sure,” then he said to Dani, “Come on. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

—

Sex with Eddie wasn't his idea. Only that it was something Dani thought they ought to do. Because it was a step forward, and any step forward was better than looking back.

She wanted to want it. She wanted to think of him and not the way Lila smiled at her in class. The way the cute and curvy barista always brushed their fingers together when she handed over Dani's cup of coffee. The way the older librarian always wore her soft blouse with a button undone so that Dani's eyes could trace her collarbone. The way a female classmate squeezed by her in a tightly crowded hallway with a brief press of her hand to the small of Dani's back.

Most of all she didn't want to be left alone with her thoughts about the dream. About going to her dorm after the party, kissing Eddie good night, only to fall asleep and wake up clutching a spare pillow, knees clenched together. Still haunted by a dream where a faceless figure explored her body with a soft mouth, a roving tongue and sharp teeth. And how she had tried to relieve the slick heat between her legs with her own hands, only to give up after ten minutes of frustration, unable to conjure up a face, unable to feel any sense of connection to herself enough to finish alone. Physicality seemed to jolt her back to herself, away from the jumbled fantasy that existed in the dark and nowhere else, making her feel less real, less tangible. 

Sex with Eddie was easier than she had expected. And exactly as awkward as she had expected.

It took a grand total of fifteen minutes. Afterwards, Eddie rolled onto his side and tucked his head into the crook of Dani’s shoulder with a sigh, an arm still flung across her waist. They had a few more hours until her roommate returned to the dorm. She remained there, carding a hand through his dark hair and staring up at the ceiling, while Eddie sketched little patterns with his fingertips against her skin. 

Sex with Eddie was uninspired. It was lackluster. And it was — Dani thought wonderingly to herself, thinking of all the girls she’d heard discussing the deed with giggling delight — ultimately disappointing. 

She felt him press a kiss to her shoulder, and she blinked down at him. 

“That was nice,” he mumbled.

Dani hummed a wordless reply rather than say something in return.

—

'Dear Jamie, 

You’d be proud of me. I went to a party. All on my own, no less. Well, not alone. Eddie came, too. But I was the one who secured the invitation, and I think that counts for something.

I had the strangest dream afterwards, though. I don’t think alcohol agrees with me much. Must be a family trait.

I wish you’d been there. At the party, I mean. The whole time I was there, all I could think about was how well you’d get along with everyone. How much more fun it would be with you. I miss you. 

All my love,

- Dani

—

It was his face afterwards that had stuck with her. Contorting between bafflement and hurt, fidgeting on his knee after Dani had pulled the rug from right beneath him. 

“What do you mean: no?” Eddie had said slowly, as though he was still parsing out the words in his head. 

“We’re - Eddie, we’re still so young, and - can you stand up, please? The snow is melting into your pants,” Dani said, pulling at her fingers, fighting the urge to run in the opposite direction. 

“I just - “ Eddie started, glancing wordlessly around the quiet park where they stood before finally rising to his feet. Without meeting her eyes, he finally murmured, his breath a white mist, “I thought this was what you wanted, too.”

Words lodged themselves in Dani’s throat, confessions building like bile. Things she had never truly taken into consideration before, but couldn’t possibly say. Not on Christmas morning on an impromptu walk in the park at Eddie’s eager insistence, intent on blindsiding her with an unplanned proposal. He had never looked so serious before, lacking the teasing glint he had worn in his eyes the dozens of times he’d asked before in the past years. Utterly earnest with the way he dropped to his knee with the admission he had no ring, but knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. 

But then she had said it: ‘No.’ The word seeming to come out of nowhere, banging on her ribs to be let out until she was speaking it before she could stop herself. And then there it was, his face. Blinking up at her as though he was seeing her for the first time. 

“I’m sorry,” Dani said, her fingers twitching to grasp his hand, quietly urging him to look at her, “I’m just - I don’t think I’m ready yet. It’s too soon.”

A muscle jumping in his jaw, Eddie nodded and gradually met her gaze. “But one day?” he asked quietly, hope glinting in his eyes.

It sounded like a promise. One she’d have no say in the matter, or opportunity to change her mind. A contract of infinite fine lines. Dani exhaled, the morning air cold and sharp against her cheeks and nose, shifting on her feet in the snow. 

Already tired and the day had barely begun, Dani finally relented. “Yeah,” Dani breathed, smiling weakly, “One day. Just - not now, okay?”

The morning sun cast sharply against the snow, leaving long angled shadows from the trees and their figures, the light glinting off of Eddie’s glasses when ducked his head briefly and nodded. 

“Okay,” he murmured, offering her a brave smile that was more frail and still disappointed than anything. But then, the teasing glimmer was back, the corner of his mouth lifting in a knowing smirk. “It was the ring, wasn’t it? Because I didn’t have one and you want a nice big shiny ring?”

Dani blinked at him and then rolled her eyes hard, thwacking him lightly on the arm. He laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder for a loose hug. Dani let him, slipping her arms around his waist and squeezing her eyes shut as she pressed into his chest, the part of her relieved to hear him laugh again suffocating under the guilt clutching at her heart in a fist. 

“Come on,” Dani said, lightly clearing her throat and pulling away to lead him back towards the house, “Before everyone starts to wonder if we ran away.”

“Wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Eddie said, waggling his eyebrows, slipping his hand into hers. 

Dani huffed, and said, “Sure, until my mom calls the police for your head on a spike.”

Eddie blanched, as pale as snow. “Never mind.”

Snickering, Dani shook her head and led him back home. There had been an easiness to him on the way back, his cheeks pink from the cold, chuckling when his glasses immediately fogged when they stepped inside the house. But that had been then, and the hours slipped by with presents shared and lunch had, the easiness giving way to the return of quiet disappointment and dejection the longer they were subjected to the company of Tommy’s newest girlfriend and David’s fiancée. Eddie’s eyes dimming by the hour with forced smiles and hushed conversations in corners with Judy or Mike. 

She inadvertently came across one by accident. Wandering into the kitchen in search of something to snack on to channel the nerves bubbling beneath her skin after escaping small talk and awkward smiles with Tommy’s girlfriend. Eddie with his head ducked and Judy murmuring softly to him. She froze when they spotted her, her shoulders tensing as they both gave her similar warm smiles that betrayed nothing of the conversation they were having. 

“Sorry - um,” Dani said, eyes darting between them, “Did I interrupt something?”

“Of course not, honey,” Judy said, waving her off and returning to her task of putting together a platter of cookies, “Are you hungry again? Do you want me to heat up some leftovers for you?”

The question almost flew over Dani’s head, instead carefully watching Eddie quietly clear his throat before delving into the fridge for a drink. “No,” Dani said after a moment too long and plastered on a small smile at Judy, “I’m fine.”

Fine was one way of putting it, a dim sense of dread washing over her as Eddie merely offered her a kiss on the head and a crooked grin that didn’t reach his eyes when he slipped by, leaving the pair alone in the kitchen without a word. Her fists clenched, she watched his tall frame disappear around the corner.

There was a sigh behind her. “You kids grew up too fast if you ask me.”

Dani choked out a laugh. “Just a little bit,” she replied, biting her lip and folding her arms across her chest.

The kitchen remained silent for a moment, until Judy said, “Sweetheart, are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you?”

There was a faint eagerness to Judy’s tone that Dani had no idea what to do with. Shaking her head faintly, she turned to be met with Judy’s kind but concerned expression. “I’m fine,” Dani repeated, “I promise.”

Judy seemed unconvinced, stepping closer to press her palm on Dani’s cheek, meeting her eyes with a level of intensity that Dani wasn’t used to. Not from Judy. “You would tell me,” Judy started slowly, “if there was something wrong, wouldn’t you, honey?”

Words banged again within her chest, beating against her ribs. I don’t know how to love him, it said, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m - 

“Of course,” Dani lied, guilt twisting tight around her neck as she gave Judy a reassuring smile.

With a sigh, Judy gently shook her head. “Then I want you to stop worrying,” she said firmly but gently, slipping into a smile that bordered on teasing, “You’ll both come around. I just know it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two souls made for each other as much as you two. Well, besides Mike and I, of course.”

Judy laughed softly and Dani couldn’t help but mimic her, invisible strings stretching her mouth into a broad smile. And when Judy finally left her alone to her own devices in the kitchen with the platter of cookies in hand, Dani’s shoulders sagged and her smile slipped away in place of weariness. It took a moment for her to decide, already pulling down a wine glass from the cupboard before she made up her mind. Digging out a wine bottle from the fridge to fill her glass with a burgundy red that settled heavy on her tongue and smoothed the building panic within her until it was reduced back to a simmer. 

It kept her company for the evening, a sip taken for every sidelong glance from Eddie, every encouraging smile from Judy, every stern look her mother sent her way. But when night began to settle and her flushed cheeks began to buzz, Dani quietly slinked away from the festivities to grab her jacket and boots to slip outside the backdoor, exhaling in relief when she stepped out onto the porch. 

Leaning against the railing, her breath was a white cloud as she took in the scene. The air was brisk but still and quiet, the sky an indigo blue with faint stars twinkling above her, and for the first time since waking up this morning, a sense of peace swept over her in the quiet of the dark. But Dani didn’t have it for long. She had only been outside for just a few moments when the backdoor opened. Tensing, she turned around with excuses already on her tongue, but sighed when Carson shut the door behind him with a small grin and joined her at the railing. 

Without a word, Dani returned to staring listlessly into the dark sky and backyard, fidgeting with her fingers. 

“Thought I’d find you out here,” Carson murmured softly, as though unwilling to disturb the quiet, “Mom sent me to look for you.”

Dani snorted humorlessly. “Worried I was going to run off into the night?”

“Nah,” Carson said, and then paused, narrowing his eyes, “Is that something I should be worried about?”

Breathing out a thin laugh, Dani nudged him in the ribs. He jerked away, chuckling with a pleased grin before digging out a rumbled pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one with practised ease, embers glowing bright in the dark, and wordlessly held it towards her. After a beat, Dani took it without looking over at him and took a long drag, welcoming the burn in her lungs. 

“These aren’t good for you, you know,” she murmured flatly, expelling the smoke through pursed lips. 

She felt Carson shrug. “I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it,” he said, lighting up a cigarette of his own. 

Dani rolled her eyes in mild exasperation but didn’t respond, electing to smoke quietly until Carson broke the silence. 

“Look, don’t worry about Eddie, okay?“

She sighed. “Carson.”

“I’m just saying,” he said, turning to face her, “I know he’s acting like a dick right now, but - well you know how he is. His favorite movie is The Graduate.” He twisted his face in distaste as though that explained everything. 

Dani gave him a long look. “Is this why your mom sent you to find me?”

He shook his head. “Just to keep you company,” he murmured. 

It was irritating how quick her eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears that she had to look away to hide them. She took a long drag to settle herself. “Thanks,” she said quietly, smoke billowing from her nose. 

Carson was silent, the air thick with an unspoken question until finally he spoke again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because believe it or not,” he said, “You’re not that hard to read.”

Her breath caught in her chest, staring fixedly at the untouched stretch of snow in the yard, feeling inexplicably like an exposed nerve. Swallowing thickly, she slowly met his eyes, almost expecting to see every single lie, every single confession waiting to stumble between her clenched teeth reflected back at her as though he knew all along. Just waiting for her to slip up and make a mistake and bleed herself dry. She didn’t know which was worse, the justified anger she had been expecting, or the gentle concern she found in his brown eyes instead. 

When she took too long to respond, staring in a faint stupor, his frown deepened and he opened his mouth to speak, but Dani beat him to it. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” she stumbled out quickly, just a little sharply, and then softened when Carson blinked in surprise, the fight going out of her just as fast. “I just - I don’t like hurting him like that.”

Carson grinned softly. “I know,” he said, “But he’s gonna be fine. I promise. Before you know it, he’s going to be bugging you again about it. He’s relentless, remember?” 

Dani nodded, almost unseeing as she took another long drag, weariness becoming a comfortable fixture in her bones. When she didn’t respond again, Carson put out his cigarette on the snow covered railing and wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a sigh. “Maybe you should run away after all,” he said. 

A soft laugh escaped her, a small choked sound. She leaned against him when he chuckled and rubbed her shoulder, recalling a jar of loose change and crumbled bills left forgotten in some corner of her old bedroom with a fond, wistful smile. 

—

‘Dear Jamie,

I don’t know why I keep trying to write these. Why I keep thinking about them. There’s nowhere for them to go, no address to send to. I write one, put it in an envelope, and then a few days later I throw it away. There’s no point in keeping them. Just as there’s no point in putting them in the post box. 

I’ve stopped turning around and expecting you to be there when I have something to say. I guess that’s why I’ve been writing less of these lately. If you were going to come back, or call, or write to me, then you would’ve done so by now. 

I think that’s the hardest part. Knowing that everyone else is moving on, while I’m here. I’m still here. Sometimes I think I always will be.

I like to imagine you going to all those places we talked about. I like to imagine your life is better now. I like to imagine you keep a piece of me with you. 

- Dani

—

The car had seen better days, this Dani knew. No one had to tell her that. No one had to tell her that every door creaked with the screech of metal at every movement. That the gas meter was wrong more often than not, displaying it half full when in fact it was wheezing it's last breath. The passenger's side was slightly dented and scraped, the undercarriage tinted red with rust. But it was hers, and hers alone. 

She’d only had it for a week now, bought just a few days after returning home from college for the summer with the full intention of making the most of it. The steering wheel was solid in her hands, the stereo tinny and staticky, the leather worn and crackling. A contained pocket universe of her own. It had the faint smell of dust and cigarettes, and she had spent the following day cleaning the interior before hanging an air freshener on the rearview window, all too happy to restore it to her liking for the simple fact that no one could tell her otherwise. 

It felt like a taste of freedom, driving it for the first time. The sun was a warm companion as it slanted through the windows onto her skin, the wind from the open window whipping at her hair as she spent her evenings driving through neighbourhoods, watching streets and buildings pass by with aching familiarity and a sweet fondness. 

Nothing could break her spell of gratified happiness. Not even Karen who scoffed and muttered under her breath with scorn and distaste when she laid eyes on it, displeased that Dani spent all her hard earned money on a car that could pass for a junker. Even when Eddie tilted his head in bewilderment, failing to hide his grimace when she had proudly showed it off couldn't diminish the lightness in her chest. Ignoring his mutterings that he could have come along to the dealer to assist in favor of soaking in Judy’s proud appraisals for taking another leap forward into adulthood, and Mike’s patient smile and offer to look over the car for basic maintenance. 

But it wasn’t any of their reactions she had been truly looking forward to. Patiently waiting a full week until finally Carson arrived home from his freshman year at college with slumped shoulders and bags under his eyes to idle the car in the driveway and press on the car horn until he stumbled outside in his new leather jacket. 

When he spotted the car and just who was inside, his eyes brightened and he sped towards her. “Holy shit, you did it!” Dani laughed and stepped out just in time for him to wrap her in a tight hug. “God, I missed you.”

“We saw each other two weeks ago,” Dani said, smiling into his chest. 

“Yeah, but this is different,” Carson said, leaning heavily into her and groaned, “School’s finally over.” Dani stumbled under the weight of his taller frame and they both laughed, teetering off balance briefly until finally he pulled back. “Okay, I wanna look at it.”

Dani bit back a broad grin as he watched him round the car with the expression of a solemn appraiser. Pulling open doors to peer inside with hums of consideration and sweeping a finger over the scratched paint. He rubbed said finger with his thumb as though brushing off crumbs and finally aimed an impressed expression towards her. 

“Well?” Dani said, folding her arms in amusement. 

“It’s a load of junk,” Carson said, and Dani snorted, “But I love it.”

Dani rolled her eyes and Carson laughed, slinging an arm around her neck “I can’t believe you did it, I’m so proud of you,” he said, placing a kiss to her forehead. 

“Thanks,” she murmured with a small smile as she looked over the car. 

“But you do realize though that you’re driving me everywhere from now on, right?”

With a derisive snort, Dani shoved him off, grinning when he laughed again. “In that case, you’re buying gas.”

“Ouch,” he said, wincing and pressing a hand to his chest, “No free rides? Not even for your favorite O’Mara?”

“Nope,” Dani said, her mouth curling with an impish grin, “Though I do have the perfect place in mind for the first drive.”

He brightened with curiosity. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Dani hummed, and without any fanfare, she pulled a folded envelope from the back pocket of her jeans and held it out towards him with a murmur, “Happy belated birthday.”

He blinked at her in surprise. “That was months ago.” 

She shrugged shyly. “Wanted to do something special since we missed doing something last time,” she said, “And then I saw this, and well - I couldn’t pass up on the opportunity.”

The look he gave her was warm, fondness blooming from his eyes. Without a word, he took the envelope and peeked inside. He gasped, his eyes going wide. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“These are - no fucking way. These are tickets to - ?“

“They are. The show’s in two days.”

“Holy shit. Holy shit, Dani!” He laughed brightly and pulled her into a back breaking hug, lifting her off her feet, murmuring thank yous on repeat in her hair. 

The next two days were spent in anticipation and secrecy, having told no one but Mike their plans for the day. When the day finally arrived, they piled into Dani’s car and rushed down the street with breathless giggles in an effort to not get caught by anyone from either household. Carson, happy and eager for the concert, using her dashboard as a makeshift drum with the drumsticks he brought along, and Dani, relieved to finally have an excuse to drive somewhere that wasn’t drifting aimlessly through streets. 

The road long and narrow ahead of them, Dani guided them out of town towards Des Moines, North Liberty slowly disappearing in the rearview mirror like a mirage. Driving away felt like leaving reality behind, if only for a while. It was the possibility of choice, itself an illusion. A pretty fantasy she could pantomime like an actor on stage. With nothing but flat fields of corn and grass on the horizon, the great blue sky yawning open above her, she teased at the notion of letting her car take her beyond Des Moines, beyond into the unknown. That she might never leave the road until her tires wore down to the rim or she reached the end of the world. 

“How did you even afford all this?” Carson asked over the rumbling of car wheels on tarmac and music hissing from the stereo. “The car and the tickets. It must have cost a fortune.”

“Not really,” Dani said, keeping her eyes on the road, “Saved up a lot from working at that bookstore near campus and years of allowances. And believe it or not - “ she aimed a sly grin at him “ -  the car came pretty cheap.”

Carson snorted and rolled his eyes, slouching back into his seat.

What she failed to mention was the handful of bills and change from a certain travel fund jar that had helped her along the way. The money having been tucked away for years in the dark corners of her room, lingering over her like a shadowed veil. It had added up to nothing more than fifty-six dollars, a small dent in what the car and tickets cost that it might as well have been water vapor for all it contributed. But it was long overdue. There was no leaving North Liberty, no traveling the world like she had once dreamed, but having a car of her own, a whole world of her own — it was as close she was ever going to get. 

The concert, in the end, was bright and loud and the most fun Dani has had in years. Rough guitars and heavy drums that felt like thunder in her chest, it wasn’t the kind of music Dani would ever actively search out, but she couldn’t deny how easy it was to get caught up into it. The stage lights casting along the surging and dancing crowd. Carson beside her, cheering and singing along to every word with the crowd until he was hoarse. And Dani with her shoulders the lightest it’s been in years, an unknown spectre amongst a crowd of hundreds, with no expectations and constraints tangled around her neck. 

On the drive home, loose-limbed and the humid night air thick and heavy as molasses, she kept the windows down to let in the breeze that cooled their skin and ruffled their hair. Carson slouched low in his seat, almost boneless as he fiddled with the radio with a happy grin and lethargic eyes. 

“So,” Dani started, “did you have fun?”

“Do you even need to ask,” he croaked, his voice rough. Dani snorted, sparing him a fond smile as he finally settled on a station and leaned back against the headrest, soaking in the breeze. “Although, you’re on thin ice though for refusing to buy me a drink. And on my birthday, too.” He aimed a disappointed look at her and shook his head with a tisk. 

She gave him a reproachful look. “You’re underage,” she said, “And your birthday is in February.”

Dani laughed as he grumbled beside her. But when he fell silent again, the hiss of the stereo and a distant rumble of thunder, the smell of rain in the air, he turned to her with an earnestly soft expression. 

“Did I say thank you, yet?”

“About no less than a hundred times, I think,” Dani said with a quiet huff of laughter. 

“I mean it this time,” he said, “Thank you for this. Really. I missed you guys.”

“We missed you too,” Dani murmured. 

Instead of saying anything more, there was a look of hesitancy on his face, his eyes drifting down for a moment. “You know who else I miss?” Carson’s mouth curled into a plaintive grin, and without waiting for an answer, he murmured, “Jamie.”

Dani blinked in surprise, her eyes fixed on the red eyes of tail lights ahead in the darkened road, lightning flashing in darkened clouds in the distance as her knuckles went white against the steering wheel. Hearing that name again felt like the unexpected sound of shattering glass, like the first drops of rain against her skin. One she hasn’t heard spoken in a long time, forbidden and forgotten as though it were a curse. It had been years since Carson’s spoken of her, not since the following weeks after Jamie left. Quiet in his mourning like the rest of the family. Solemn whispers in corners and sidelong glances of concern and disquiet, gradually ebbing away until the jagged edges were smoothed with time until the memories were a faceless thing with no name. Swallowing thickly, she glanced briefly at him, at the fond wistfulness across his features as he stared through the windshield.

“Yeah?” she said in a gentle encouragement to continue. 

Carson nodded and murmured, “Wish she was here. She would have loved the show.”

A dim ache spread across Dani’s chest, a fond smile pulling at her mouth. “Yeah,” Dani breathed, “She would’ve.”

Lightning flashed again, sparks of blue hanging low in the sky in the far distance, thunder following shortly in a slow roll. And all too easily, all too abruptly, Dani could hear Jamie’s voice in her head. ‘Looks like a big one, Poppins.’ Could picture her crooked grin and mischievous eyes, eager for another wild storm chase with Dani right at her heels. But they were in Dani’s car this time, and just the thought alone — of Jamie being here next to her, egging her on for another chase, teasing her for being the driver for once — left her feeling strained and bone weary with longing affection.

She found her foot gradually pushing down on the accelerator, urging her car faster down the highway in an effort to vanish the memories and to leave the storm behind them, thunder and lightning growing distant in the rear view mirror.

— 

It was the end of the semester, and Dani had offered Eddie a ride back to North Liberty. A carpool to save them gas. It felt strange having him in the passenger seat. Normally he would insist on driving. Other cars Dani did not drive. Someone else would step towards the driver’s side, and she would shrink away towards the passenger seat. But nobody drove Dani’s car except her. Always. 

Outside the sky had begun to darken, and the fields were a vast, flat silhouette beneath a deepening grey sky. Dani flicked on the headlights to illuminate the road. Beside her Eddie seemed content being in control of the radio station, fiddling with the dials until he arrived at some jazz or folk station that he preferred. The conversation was calm and easy. The two of them drifted from topic to topic, unafraid of the silences in between. Unlike his brothers, Eddie could sit in the silence of his own thoughts with another person for hours. 

It was, Dani thought, one of the things she liked about him best. Being alone, together. 

“Have you heard anything from the twins lately?” Dani asked.

Eddie tapped along to a soft jazzy beat in the background, his fingers gently keeping time against his knee. “Not much,” he said. “David’s still at that accounting job, and Tommy’s wedding is all scheduled for April.”

“Where’s that happening?”

“Cedar Rapids, I think.” Eddie turned his head towards her. “Will you come as my plus one?”

Smiling, Dani kept her eyes on the road. “Of course. What? Did you think I wasn’t going to go? Judy would drag me up there herself.” 

He chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds right.” 

“I’m going to need to buy a new dress, though.”

“Why? Your mom isn’t coming, is she?” 

“Well, I don’t know. Tommy’s in charge of the wedding invitations.” 

“And you think he’s going to send one to your mom?” Eddie asked, incredulous.

Dani shifted her grip upon the steering wheel. “You try telling her she can’t come.”

He made a face. “No, thanks.”

“Coward,” she said, shooting him a grin.

“And proud of it. Your mom is a lot.”

“You don’t have to tell me that.” 

Silence again. The white noise of the tires across worn out asphalt beneath the faint strains of twelve-bar blues. Dani concentrated on the straight of road, while Eddie contemplated the stars dotting the horizon through the window. 

They did not speak again until Dani pulled up to their childhood street and killed the engine in front of her mom’s house. By that time, night had washed over the earth. A few houses on the street burned through their windows with interior lights, bleeding warmth and attracting moths. 

“Thanks for the ride,” Eddie said into the quiet darkness of the car. 

Dani smiled over at him. “Yeah. No problem.”

“You should come over for lunch tomorrow. Mom would love to see you.”

“I’ll be there at eleven,” Dani said. 

“Great.” 

Through the dim light, she could see him smile. He leaned over the center console and kissed her. His mouth was warm and soft, and he cradled her jaw in his palm. When she closed her eyes she could almost imagine she felt something. Could almost convince herself. The kiss was chaste yet lingering, and when he pulled away he stroked his thumb over the bluff of her cheek.

“Wish mom would let you stay over,” he murmured.

“Like old times?” Dani joked.

“Yeah.”

He leaned forward again. A brief kiss. And then he was gone. Opening the door and hauling himself out, striding across the street. Dani watched him all the way, as he fumbled with his keys at the front door, until finally he had entered his house and vanished from sight. 

Her hand was still squeezing the steering wheel in a death grip. With a slow exhale, Dani let go and stepped out onto the street. Unlike the O’Mara house, her mom’s house was dark. When she unlocked the front door and pushed it open, she was greeted with darkness. The smell of cigarettes was familiar and overpowering. Not even a college campus full of hormonal twenty-somethings could compete. 

For a moment she lingered, hand at the doorknob, teetering on the liminal space between outside and inside, between sacred and profane. The house itself was a yawning open space. A muzzle. Something with teeth that needed to be chained off from loss of limb. Snatching her hand away, Dani stepped forward and shut herself inside.

Creak of the floorboards beneath her feet. After so many years, this house managed to surprise her still. New groans, new sensitive spots on the floor to catalogue and avoid. Her eyes flicked towards the ceiling, but she heard nothing from above. Her mother must be dead asleep or otherwise out and about for the evening. Dani did not know. Nor did she particularly want to know.

Slowly, carefully, she crept upstairs. Flicking on the light in her room felt like an intrusion in and of itself. As though she had set something alight, touched a torch to the pyre and a roar of kindling. Shutting the door behind her, Dani changed into pajamas as quickly as she could and slipped beneath the sheets of her bed, book in hand. At first she did not open it, ears pricked, listening for clues, but the house was — as ever — usually silent. 

She had only just cracked the book open to the marked page when her bedside table crackled with a faint voice. Frowning, Dani reached over, opened the top drawer, and found an old walkie talkie there. The radio was scuffed from use, wire mesh scraped and worn and half buried beneath miscellany. She picked it up and leaned back against the pillows, holding her breath for whoever was on the other end to make a noise again. 

It was an irrational thought. A memory. A daydream. A secret. A wish. She clutched the radio to her chest in breathless anticipation, expecting —

“Danielle?” 

The speaker crackled with disuse, louder than she had been expecting. Dani almost dropped it into her lap, had to fumble to keep it in one hand. Swallowing thickly, she lifted it and pressed down on the button. 

“Eddie? Is that you?” 

“Hey,” he said. “You’re still awake.”

“Yeah.”

“Your mom around?” 

“No. But I don’t know when she’ll be back.” 

Silence. It went on for so long that Dani pressed the button down again and prompted, “Eddie?” 

“I’m here,” he said. 

Her shoulders relaxed. She could almost imagine him sprawled out on the bed beside her, his large frame cramped in such a small space. She wished he were here, now. She wished he were warm and solid beneath her hand. She wished she could touch him. She wished she wasn’t alone. She wished -

“Will you marry me?” he asked. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked. It wasn’t even the second. It was however the first time Dani hesitated. Swallowing thickly, Dani found herself gazing at her bedside table again, at the photo of Jamie and herself propped there, at that broad blazing smile. 

Dani squeezed her eyes shut. Her hand was squeezing the life from the walkie talkie, and she had to force her fingers to unclench. She pressed her thumb against the button and murmured, “Good night, Eddie.”

—

‘Dear Jamie,

Come home.’

[overwhore-s]

Hi 🥺 um. 👉🏼👈🏼 may I request Levi x reader? Where something went wrong (a mission, deaths whatever) and reader is just ... numb. Levi really cares for her (secretly loves her) and he has to bathe her, she kind of breaks down in the tub. He can’t leave her like that for the night so he watches over her too? Is that okay? Or too much? It’s okay if it is. I’m just a sucker for hurt/comfort.

With you by my side (I just want to survive)

Keep reading for 1970 words of angst, hurt/comfort and general sadness. I don’t tend to write stuff like this often, so I might be sorta out of practice, but I do love Levi, so writing this was a blast. Huge thank you goes out to sweet Anon for inspiring this!

song reference: dreamlife by sleeping at last

Warm hands on your shoulders, keeping you steady. Blood leaking from the cut on your forehead shrouds your vision and you feel light, almost like a feather. The world around you takes a shade of crimson, the earth, the trees, the sky, all red. Your eyes are opened but you stay unresponsive, and he stops every few seconds just to check on your pulse, his finger smearing the blood, yours, his, someone else’s, all over you neck.  

It’s reckless, he knows, to show his back while the battle rages on. Titans and soldiers clashing, a storm of steel and too many teeth. And yet, he has to get to his horse. The fight is lost; but he can’t lose you as well.

Finally, Erwin signals the retreat.  

A bittersweet feeling overtakes him. He hates running, hates the thought of the deaths of his comrades being for naught. Part of him hates Erwin for being so reckless with your lives, his own life, but most of all, yours. You, who never hesitates. Never complains.

Finally, he catches sight of his horse. It whinnies and kicks at the grass, distressed. Levi whistles and it comes galloping towards him, as loyal as ever.

Suddenly, your knees buckle underneath you, the strength all but sapped from your body. Levi catches you, supports your weight with his own. You are so strong, always, a soldier in your own right. It hurts him to see you like this, shell-shocked, beaten, damn near breaks his heart.

Your eyes close, slowly, almost like you’re falling asleep.

Concerned, he whispers your name. No answer. He repeats it, alarmed. Your grip on his shoulder tightens momentarily, weak but reassurance enough for him to march on, half-dragging you behind him. He’s thankful for his strength as he hoists you atop the horse. He sits with his chest to your back, making sure you don’t fall off by wrapping an arm around your waist.

He barely concentrates on riding the horse, more concerned about your slowing pulse. Will you reach Wall Rose soon enough? It’s almost nightfall. Titans can’t move in the dark; they should give up their pursuit soon.

His theory proves to be right. About an hour later, the rumbling steps of titans fade into the distance. Still, Erwin shows no sign of slowing. Good.  Levi will have a word with him later, but for now, his only concern is getting you to safety.  

“We’re almost there,” he says, to the wind, himself, you, passed out from exhaustion in the saddle in front of him. He chases your heartbeat across your skin, only content when it pounds steadily against his fingertips. Wall Rose is finally visible and he feels so relieved he could cry. “Hold on. Hold on.”

 ***

 You’re awake, but you dream. Everything and everyone seems to be bathed in a golden light. Hange, as they clean and bandage your many wounds while arguing about something with Erwin, who stands by the door, looking regal and authoritative as always. Knowing them, it’s about capturing more titans for experiments. If your face didn’t feel like it was made from stone, you’d crack a smile. Typical Hange.

There’s a fourth someone in the room. He’s seated in the chair next to your bed, face hidden by his hands. They are nice hands, you suppose, slender but strong-looking at the same time. You’ve seen them deal punches, wield weapons, pet horses and hold dainty teacups. Rough on the outside, gentle on the inside. You want to reach out and brush your knuckles against his, but your arm won’t move. Like it’s made of lead, your body feels oh so heavy, and the softness of the bed, suffocating.

Your eyes dart from Levi – Levi, your captain, your friend, your guardian angel – to the large wound on your thigh, currently being stitched by Hange. You frown. That wound. Like someone’s jaws left an imprint on your flesh. When did that happen? Your memory is muddied, unclear, confused.

There should be pain. Where is the pain? You briefly wonder, before losing consciousness again.

***

The second time you wake up, it’s into a nightmare. The physical pain you can deal with. But once the memories start resurfacing, you start to shake and shake. You try to scream, but nothing comes out. You sit up in the bed, hug your knees to your chest, protecting yourself from the outside world.

It’s no use. The world that’s out to get you right now hides within your mind, guilt and despair and grief.

Grief. Your comrades – what did they look like before…?! In your current state, you can only picture them on the ground, no, not them, just their bodies, broken and lifeless. The way they screamed, Walls, their last words repeat in your head until they sound almost like accusations, and finally a first tear rolls down your cheek, followed by many, many others. You tremble and sob, wanting to tear at your stitches until you bleed out. How do you get to survive, when everyone under your command has died? Your squad, always so reliable, so supportive in and out of battle, has been massacred and you did nothing to help them.

You’re a failure of a leader, failure of a soldier, failure even as a human being. Gradually, your sobs come to a halt, sadness replaced by numbness. Everything seems pointless now, with them dead.

During the day, you’re visited by many people, but none of them succeed in cheering you up. You can see your civilian friends pitying you, and the scouts look too haunted by their own demons to be able to help you. It just makes you sink further into hopelessness.

You drink only a little, and eat nothing at all, even as Hange forces a spoon full of porridge past your lips. They sigh in defeat after half an hour of fighting, muttering something about you being more stubborn than even Levi. They order someone to draw you a bath, and, with a last sympathetic look in your direction, walk out of the room.

***

“The water must be getting cold.”

You haven’t left your bed. Levi’s leaning against the door, brow furrowed in concern. He’s heard from Hange; you don’t eat, don’t communicate, never move out of this room. You’ve managed to escape relatively unscathed, thanks to his quick reflexes on the battlefield, but you’ve suffered some mental scars as well and those are the ones he’s really worried about.

“C’mon. You have to bathe. You stink of titan guts.”

Normally, you would have laughed. But this time, he notices no change in your expression, not even a small smile as reward for his best efforts.

He approaches you like he would a wounded animal, light on his feet. “Come on,” he repeats, in a gentler tone. “I’ll help you.”

At last, you nod, never one to disobey a direct order. You attempt to rise from the bed, only to tumble right into his arms. “Easy,” he says, voice thick with something he can’t quite name. “I got you.”

You nod again, face buried in his shoulder.

He helps you undress, his movements mechanical, his gaze respectfully averted. Your chemise pools around your ankles, followed by your underwear. He’s seen you naked before – there is no shame among soldiers – but with the two of you, it feels different, somehow more intimate. He turns around and waits for you to get into the bath.

“Levi.” A simple rasp of his name, signaling him you’re ready.

With your knees drawn up to your chest, you peer at him from under dark lashes. He swallows on an empty throat, grabbing the washcloth and soap someone left on the table and coming closer to you.

You are both silent as Levi washes your hair. He works efficiently but gently at the same time, massaging the soap into your scalp before rinsing it off by pouring a cup of water over it. He’s considerate with the washcloth too, rubbing your skin firmly enough to get rid of caked blood and dirt, but not too rough to irritate your many scratches and bruises.

Seeing your wounds makes something inside him break. Perhaps it’s the knowledge he did nothing to stop this from happening – you getting hurt, your squad getting wiped out, the mission failing. His hands start to shake, and he needs to take a moment bracing against the tub to calm himself.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you speak suddenly, voice weak but insistent. “And it’s not your fault.”

He scoffs in disbelief. You’re just unbelievable. Barely functioning, and still trying to take care of everyone around her. Empathetic to a fault. Sometimes he wonders if that’s part of the reason why he loves you. “Who else’s?”

Your shoulders begin to tremble as you sob out a single word. “Mine.”

You blaming yourself is a natural reaction, of course. He felt the same way when he lost his own squad during that botched operation in the forest. Even more so years ago with Furlan and Isabel.

Being the sole survivor is a different kind of pain.

“Bullshit,” he grits his teeth, jaw aching. “You want to hate someone? Hate the titans for eating them. Hate Erwin for giving the order. Hate me if you must. But you don’t get to do this to yourself. I won’t let you.”

You turn to face him, fast enough to make the water, now a depressing shade of reddish brown, spill from the bathtub. “I don’t know if I can survive this, Levi,” you admit, the sight of your tear-stained face enough to make him want to cry. “They visited me while I slept. They called out to me.”

He wishes he could wax poetic like Erwin, make out their deaths to be heroic instead of brutal, needless and terrifying. But he’s never been good with words, and he’s even worse with expressing feelings, so all that he can manage is a simple but fitting: “They were saying goodbye.”

Your eyes brim with tears again and he’s afraid he’s upset you, until you smile. It’s a brief, barely-there smile, but it still counts. “I like it, but no. I think they were saying see you later.”

He can’t and doesn’t want to argue with that. “We’ll all meet together again. On the other side.”

You nod and close your eyes, still smiling, and he thinks you look serene for a moment. Until you start shivering, and he remembers how much time has passed and that the water must be freezing already.

“Here you are.” He hands you a towel, giving you time to dry off before returning with a fresh set of clothing. Now dressed, you retreat into bed, pulling the covers over your form.

Levi doesn’t move.

“I’m not leaving,” he answers, before the question can even leave your mouth. You’ve known each other, fought beside each other for such a long time, sometimes he feels as if though he could read your mind.  

“Good. I don’t want you to,” you say, almost pleadingly.

Giving a sigh of relief, he makes his way to the chair where he spent the last night as well, only for you to pat the empty space next to you.

On the bed.

Oh.

“Absolutely not,” he starts to say, but you cut him off.

“You get so little sleep as it is. It’s the least I can do to thank you…for everything. Besides…” You trail off, expression turning solemn once again. You might be doing slightly better than before, but you’re still haunted. Only time can heal you, it would be foolish to think he has any power over what you might be feeling.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

But he can make sure no monsters will get you tonight.

[eveenstar]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒲𝒶𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝒯𝒾𝓂𝑒

𝙰 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚁𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝟸 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɪɪ

Summary: After the meeting with Dutch, (Y/N) the time-traveler, decides to take a look around the camp while trying to convince herself this was not a dream but reality.

Tags/Warnings: Nothing to add.

Note: Back again from the dead with another chapter! Hope you enjoy!

Well, this was awkward. You couldn't hope to be in a worst situation than this (well, you kinda could) but hey, at least they seem to believe you, right? What else to think when somebody drops out of the sky in the middle of your "home"?

“Well, Miss (L/N), from what you told me and the gang…You’re my great-granddaughter?” Dutch asked, his hands grabbing one of his books while he took a seat on his bed.

“Yes, sir.” The girl stood awkwardly on the tent’s entrance. She didn’t know what else to do, what, hug him? She didn't even know he existed before that old, strange lady appeared in her life. For her, Dutch was nothing but a stranger and maybe he thinks the same of her.

“It’s…nice to meet you. A very interesting experience.” He sounded almost content with it, but also a bit shocked by his voice. “I hope your life is better than, you see, ours.”

The girl let out a nervous laugh. Almost immediately covering her mouth after it. “I’m actually being hunted down by the government. Me and my group, we…did some things they didn’t agree with.”

“Oh. I see. A revolutionist?” Dutch looked at her, his gaze made her feel a bit intimidated.

“Yeah, I guess that’s one way to call it.” How would she describe what a hacker was or the modern technology? Well, (Y/N) did take parts in a few riots so perhaps revolutionist was a appropriate term to call it on the 1800s. But she wasn’t so sure about that. The life she left behind, James and the others, everything she knew was...well, not dead, but non-existing now.

“Don’t be so nervous, Miss.” The man said in a gentle tune. “I promise you, none of us will bring you any harm.” He stood up, slowly caressing her arm.

“Thanks.” She returned a kind smile, but was it the truth?

I wanted to go back that exact time, I didn't want to be there anymore. From all the movies and tvshows I'd seen, messing with the past doesn't go well, never. So who was I to tempt fate?

"I have a few more questions for you, but you need to rest. Must've been hard getting here." Dutch guided you outside and handed you some stuff, probably to make your own tent. You really hoped there weren't many bugs out here. "I'll let you get settled first."

You nodded, before taking a few hesitant steps towards the "light" (or, in this case, a fellow tree a bit distant from the others). You didn't want to bother anyone, so you began making your little forth underneath a tree and next to a few rocks. But, not that you haven't gone camping before, but this was harder than it looked. It's like your own house was fighting against you. Things kept falling or getting in the way, and nothing was going according to plan. A frustrated sigh escaped your lips.

"Need some help?"

You flinched at the voice and turned around to meet eyes with, by your memory, Javier Escuella. He was taller in person. That's all you had to say, for now. He had a soft yet deep gaze on his eyes, but if we're being honest, he looked threatening. He raised an curious eyebrow by how long you were taking to answer his simple question. You nodded, then chuckled nervously and waved around the "tent" you were building.

"I'm having a bit of trouble here."

With a better set of hands, your little fort was finished in just two hours. This felt different, y'know? Surreal to say the least. Few birds were singing, the horses in the background, the wind blowing through you, the nature, the sounds of people talking, a life you've never known. Not like this. It was kinda similiar to the life you and your friends had, the only difference being: You didn't held camps in the wild. Like Dutch, you were the leader of your group, and James was your right hand. Maybe you did resemble him a bit, just maybe. Now you were here, talking and interacting with people that in your time, were long gone. You were changing history, the past, everything. Was this the right choice?

"Are you okay?"

"Sì," You immediately looked at him, "Sorry, kinda drifted off a bit."

Javier stared at you in confusion, "Drifted?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry hah. I got lost in thought."

For your delight, Javier laughed at it before excusing himself and leaving you there to your own miserable mind. Your bed felt heavy and rocky, but it's better than nothing. You had no idea what to do now, should you go meet the others? Well, they certainly thing you're strange. Mary-Beth seemed to like you, and she could become your first friend here! Keep the hopes up, (Y/N), you're definitely gonna need it here.

"Ahem, hey Mary!"

"(Y/N)! How was the meeting with Dutch?" She paused her book and glanced over to you, while patting her hand next to her. "Come, sit!"

"It was alright," You replied almost robotically. Your mind was empty to any functional thoughts.

"This is like a fantasy book. You came from the future to change the past, and met a long lost relative." Mary-Beth almost had stars in her eyes while thinking about the "amazing" story of yours. For as amazing as it sounds, it really wasn't something that cool once you experienced it. You felt out of place. "Tell me, how is the future?"

Your mind ran through all the memories you have, every information, every place, every moment now lost in time.

"It's...harsh, unfair and cruel. Like it always has been, I suppose."

"It can't be that bad, surely." For as much as the media likes to portray the modern age as a fairy tale, it's more of a terror genre. You remember the cruel things people had told you over the years, how your dreams were not realistic enough, "become a doctor!" everybody said.

"They don't care about us. They don't care for people like you and me."  Jamie told me once. I wonder how he is now. I miss everybody, especially those late nights when we used to sing our hearts out and dance as if there was no tomorrow. It's too late now.

You gave her a small smile, "Not always."

She returned the smile, happily.

"So what's wrong with you, you old fool?"

A tall, bearded man drunkly limped towards someone older, Hosea Matthews, and spoke in a way that the older man didn't seem to like one bit. Hosea didn't even spare him a glance,"Go sleep it off, you drunken baffoon."

Bill Williamson, as you know remembered correctly now, stepped closer to Hosea and stared at him, almost as if he was daring him to repeat it again, "Excuse me?"

Like the winds change the tides, Hosea got up in a swift movement and pointed his gun at Bill, who fell to his feet. "I've excused you quite enough! Go sleep it off, is that clear?"

Bill hurriedly got back on his feet and stepped back, hands in the air with, what you could call, a frightened look on his face (which changed to angry after a few seconds).

"Okay!...Okay."

The few people that were present either got back to whatever they were doing or didn't even mind the occurence in the first place, like it was something normal to happen around here. You excused yourself and made your way to Hosea, who was sitting on a wooden table. You wondered where they got all this stuff, including the tables. Did they make them? Steal them? You rolled your eyes at the thought of the gang going to a local bar and stealing all of their tables.

"Uh, hello!" You greeted and took a seat in front of him. "I don't think we've been properly introduced, I'm...Well, you probably alright know who I am." You chuckled.

"Hosea Matthews, " He looked at you with a serene look on his eyes. He reminded you of those elderly folks you'd meet around town who were incredibly nice for their own good. "Have you been handling this alright? I know how this gang can be sometimes."

"I haven't had the chance to meet everybody yet, just Dutch, Mary-Beth, Javier and you, sir."

"Well, all in due time. You can come to me if you need anythin' else."

"Thank you, I'll make sure to remember it."

Hosea was like a father to me, or for most people in the gang. Wish I'd met someone like him before. He was a good man. I remember, when I first met him, that I thought he'd ask me plenty of questions about the future. To my surprise, he didn't. I think he wanted me to have some space, process everything that's happened so far. I miss him the most. Apart from Arthur, and Dutch. Who lost his way.

When I arrived, I had to make up my mind. I had to compose myself because this was about to be my new life, "for now" , I thought. I was ready to face this reality of time-traveling and the way things worked in that era. I was foolish. So, so foolish.

[whiskeyshoneybee]

Wedding Bells

( Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x f!reader) [18+]

Summary: Jack's best friend is getting married and the two of you take a weekend trip. Special thanks to the pascalitos for inspiring this.

Rating: Explicit

Word count:2561

Content warnings: Wedding fluff, fluff and smut, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving),P in V, praise kink, boyfriend jack

A/N: Was this inspired by Javi in that flannel shirt, yes it was.

The invitation had been on the fridge of the high-rise apartment you shared with Jack Whiskey for 4 months and the date was quickly approaching. Jack's cousin Tucker was getting married after a heartbreaking divorce. Tucker was not only Jack's favorite cousin but his best friend too. And now he would get to stand by his side and be his best man. You wish you could have bottled the look on his face when he got the call from Tuck. He was overcome with joy that his best friend had someone to share the rest of his days with.

You were no stranger to weddings but this one felt different. It brought excitement and a pang of fear in your chest. Coming from a large family it wasn't unheard of to go to 3-5 weddings a year. You knew all the cheesy line dances and could do them with your eyes closed. But that didn't change how you felt about weddings. Each one was unique and you could always feel the love in the air that the happy couple shared for each other. The fear about this happy day was due to the fact this would be the first time meeting Jack's family. Jack's brother Chris and his wife Savannah and their two girls would often come up to the big city. You would all do the touristy things, see a show and paint the town red. But meeting the rest of his family made you worry. You know what happened with his high school sweetheart and how much his family loved her. In your heart you knew you could never replace her, and nor would you want to.

You called in a favor to Ginger to dig up some information on Jack's family just basic stuff so you could hold a conversation and maybe even show them why Jack was so smitten with you. Jack had been to many of your family functions. He would be so attentive, listen and make them laugh deep from their bellies whenever he was around. You just wanted to return the favor for your sweetheart.

Regardless of your mixed emotions it would be nice to have a weekend away with Jack. Somehow you managed to pack everything in a carryon bag including an obscene amount of lingerie. Both of you had been working your tails off and a break from work meant you could enjoy each other without any distractions.

The hotel was large with dark wood and a fairly modern interior, with lengthy windows that let in the breathtaking scenery. Jack gets you checked in quickly and gets cleaned up while you start unpacking. His phone rings and he is whisked away to perform his best man duties.

“ I'm sorry Sugar, I wanted to spend the day with you but there are too many fires that need to be put out.” You kissed him showing him that you had no hard feelings.

With Jack gone this gave you time to look over Gingers intel before calling Chris. You were hoping you could cash in on that famous southern hospitality while fighting the dreaded boredom that is an empty hotel room. Plus you had to see your favorite almost "nieces". Chris was happy to oblige. He took you on a tour of the town, you saw all of Jack's old haunts and even looked through family photo albums. Chris was impressed when you could point out family members in the photos.

After a stroll down memory lane you head back to the hotel to hopefully beat Jack so you can get cleaned up and put on something sexy. After channel surfing for what seemed like hours you hear the door click and open. When your hungry eyes meet his, you could tell he was drained. You pat the spot next to you on the bed and he sauntered over.

“ Well you're a sight for sore eyes!’ You were wearing the hotel robe concealing your delicious surprise for him.

He plopped down on the bed letting out a heavy sigh kicking off his boots and setting his hat on the nightstand. His head finds your lap and you start running your hands through his hair. You're careful not to pry too much into the night he had with his boys but you were intrigued what kind of shenanigans they got into.

“ So what trouble did you guys get up to tonight?” lightly teasing him

He clears his throat “ Well we just did about everything. Tucker took us to the bar where they make you take a shot outta an old boot.”

Your eyes look down in disbelief at how casually he said that.

“Sugar I'm getting too old for this.” He keeps telling you more and more about this wild night until something piques your interest.

“That wasn't the worst part.” he sighs “There was a mechanical bull.”

Breathing becomes shallow and the hand through his hair briefly stops while you imagine what he looked like mounted on that bull in a sleazy bar.

“I think there was something in that boot cause this was the first time in a long time I ever fell off riding. I was on for a good 3 minuets before I landed on my back.” In any other situation you would have laughed at what he just told you, however you were feeling the warmth in your stomach grow.

“ Come here and take your shirt off.” Curiosity was getting the best of you and you couldn't keep your hands away from his broad back.

“Yes ma’am.” you felt the warmth in your stomach travel up to your face. He sat in between your legs while your hand carefully explored looking for tension or bruising. Your hands massage the area around his ribs that was starting to discolor.

It wasn't long before you heard his breathing changed. He fucking fell asleep. A sigh escaped your lips. You were turned on and had to press pause. Your hands relocating off of Jack's muscular back to turn off the TV. Somehow you managed to get Jack to stir awake long enough for you to remove his starchy jeans and roll him into bed. Leaning over to adjust the covers your robe opens and Jack sees the red lace underneath.

“Shit.” he mutters “My pretty baby takes care of me and looks so good doing it.” Feeling pulled to him like a magnet, you lean down and kiss him. It's soft and gentle, his eyes still full of sleep and the feeling of fatigue hits yours. Making your way over to the bed you disrobe and slide in the sheets. He instinctively turns to you. His warm chest on your back, those large hands pull you closer until one lands on your waist to remain there for the rest of the night. He whispers in your ear

“ I'm sorry about leaving you today, and I'm sorry I couldn't stay awake to show you just how much I missed you.” His mouth peppering your neck with soft kisses before your heavy eyes betray you and you fall asleep.

Something startles you awake. Something on your neck that tickles. Your mind wonders if a feather from this pillow has betrayed you and stabbed you in the night. Your heavy eyes look for the clock on the bedside table. 5am. You try not to move, knowing Jack had a long night with the party boys. Soon you feel velvet on your neck, its Jacks tongue. Soft kisses escape his mouth.

“ Is my pretty baby awake yet?” he eagerly whispers. You let out a throaty “hmm” your hand meeting his and giving it a squeeze.

Turning your head to meet his mouth, placing a soft kiss. Those honey eyes meeting yours, wide with no hint of sleep to be found dripping with desire. His tongue licking along your bottom lip asking for permission to be let in deeper. How could you deny him access. His hand moves from your waist under your silky red camisole to your breast, massaging and pinching your nipple till your mouth lets out a whimper of pleasure. He pulls his mouth away from yours long enough to take your camisole off. The prickle of his moustache landing on your collar bone as he softly bites your flesh. Those large hands waste no time to eclipse your breasts. His lips trail down to leave marks on the tender skin while your left a whimpering mess.

That long, lean body of his slithers down lower. You lift up your hips so he can remove the last traces of clothes from your body.

“Red is a good color on you sweetie.” he says with a wink. He takes a minute to look at you in all your glory spread out underneath him.

“ My baby is already wet for me.” Without waiting a beat his mouth dives into you, sucking on your clit. Your back arching in response to his touch. He has to put his arm over your waist to keep you from bucking. His other hand makes contact with your center as he eases one large finger inside you.

“ You feel so good baby.” you breathlessly reply, eyes rolling back. His mouth stops.

“ Hey pretty girl, keep looking at me.” you nod and he goes back to work on your bundle of nerves sucking swirling and biting while those amber eyes hold you captive. He eases another thick finger inside you curling them and stretching you reaching for the spot that makes you see stars.

“Jack… I'm close.” He raises his eyebrow like its a challenge to see how fast he can make you fall apart. Another finger meets your core, the hand that was holding your hip travels upward to pinch your nipple. The overstimulation from him finger fucking you, his tongue rolling into you and that hand on your breast causes your walls to flutter holding him captive till your body stops writhing underneath him. Those eyes that held you gaze close as he removes his fingers and licks them clean. Letting out a moan.

“Baby, your the best thing I've ever tasted.”

His head goes back down this time his tongue diving into your cunt. Drinking the pleasure right out of you. Lapping his tongue over your folds and returning to your center as not to neglect it for too long. Your breath becomes quick and shallow again. Your walls desperately trying to clamp down on him. He pulls away from you, lining up his cock with your entrance. You need release, you've been feeling turned on since he mentioned that stupid mechical bull and fell asleep on you. He thrusts into you. Both of you moaning at the feeling.

“ Pretty girl, you're so tight for me.” He thrust deep and slow, trying to make you last. His lips meeting yours while you moan in delight as you taste yourself.

“ Come with me baby.” You plead, wanting to see himself unravel.

His hand that was braced beside your head moves to your clit and is circling it with ferocious speed still sensitive from your first orgasm. Your nails dig into his back as you climax again, not caring where he was hurt. He rides you through it, thrusting till he falls apart, painting your walls with glorious thick ropes. He rests his head on your chest and kisses you. Both of you lay like that for a while he runs his hands through your hair.

“ How did I get so lucky to be with you?” His eyes looking at you with devotion.

Somehow you both manage to pull apart from each other long enough to order room service and get cleaned up for the wedding.

The service was beautiful and simple. Tucker had Jack by his side in the soft red flannel shirt that drove you crazy. You sat with Chris, Savannah and their girls, thankful to see friendly faces in the sea of unknown strangers. Your imagination was running wild, you were thinking about your future with Jack. You weren't one of those people who planned their wedding by the time they were 10. But seeing him up there having his warm eyes look at you while Tucker and his wife exchanged their vows was doing something for you. Shit. How could he make your heart and pussy flutter like that.

At the reception Jack guided you through the crowd, his hand on your low back keeping you close. Everything Ginger had told you flooded your memory as you asked interesting questions and listened to every word that was spoken to you holding a conversation with ease. Jack would stop in between the groups of people to kiss you lovingly on the cheek and whisper praises in your ear. Finally you were back at the table with Chris and the girls after circling the entire room. Jack had his hand on your thigh under the table making an unidentifiable pattern with his fingers.

Your “nieces” were so excited to be at the reception. This was the first time at a wedding for them and they wanted to take full advantage. When the dance floor was open to the public those girls dragged you out so you could show them the steps. You were laughing and having such a good time. The night was a success. Jack's family was warm and inviting and made you feel like you fit right in. Your heart felt full.

You look back at Jack, his eyes meet yours and you could swear you saw a twinkle in them. Your attention goes back to the girls to try and make sure no one steps on anybody's feet. The song is over and the tempo changes to something slow and you felt a warm hand on your shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in?” Jack asks with a grin. He pulls you close, your head resting on his shoulder, like it was made for you. Your face feeling the soft fabric of his flannel, his hand on your low back swaying you to the music.

“Honey, I'm so impressed with you. The girls love you, my family loves you. And you look damn good in this dress. I wish we could have done this sooner.” he whispers in your ear before placing a kiss on your forehead. It feels like you are the only two people in this whole room.

“ There is only one thing you forgot.” your face lifts from his shoulder so you can look directly at him.

“ And what's that?” you say raising your eyebrow in disbelief.

“ At every wedding someone needs to have slutty sex. It’s a requirement and as best man its my job to make sure this wedding goes off without a hitch.”

You move your head to the side so you are dancing cheek to cheek and so that you can whisper your desires easily.

“ Is that so? What do you have planned for us?” you say in a low breathy voice.

His hand moving slightly lower down your back “ Well, when the coast is clear we are going to make our way to the bathroom. I'm going to set that pretty little ass of yours on the counter and I'm going to fuck you till you scream.” Jack was a man of his word and he meant everything he said.

[yanderecandystore]

Can we get some content for how the Android darling and Ms. Bright would meet?

In this [🍰🍑🤖] we get a glimpse of what their relationship is like and a lil mention of how things have worked out- But let's see how it played out from the a.is perspective.

Hi boo, I hope you're doing great, I'm very sorry for the long ass waiting- Sadly I may warn y'all that I have gone through many stages while writing this: h 0 r ny, corny, and angsty. This is actually pretty heavy, as I tried pulling some of the loose threads that I left all over Ingrid's posts (I still need to give her an bio ;-; I'm sorry y'all-)

So this is all over the place, since this is a fic I've been writing for a long time.

Also I know jackshit about robotics, and I think this fic shows how much I don't know anything XD

TW: Family issues related to: LGBTQ identity // very angsty // Ingrid is very rude, but she also struggles a lot during this- // socially distant // socially awkward // being misinterpreted/having a hard time socializing //

Tags: angy sad lady // ownership dynamic // this is basically the reader reminiscing about the past (continuing it from where Happy Lies left off) // the reader is low-key a simp at times- // master x servant dynamic, possessive behavior and a lot of yelling // just angsty really, I'm so sorry //

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Happy birthday, mistress [Yandere!CEO OC x A.I!Reader - Short Fanfiction]

3,763 words

Whenever you remember your first day of activation, or more accurately your first day of actually being able to be activated for more than five seconds (you can't remember it fully, but you're aware that because of your complex design, you had passed through a lot of prototype phases before you could properly function-), you almost feel an odd sense of nostalgia, maybe due to the fact it was indeed the most important day of your existence as an android.

It was Ms.Bright's nineteenth birthday, when she would be handed the corporation that has been passed down by generations. And not only would she inherit the company, but also a beautifully designed a.i assistant made to help Ms.Bright's every need. You were made to be an easy communication center from Ms.Bright to the employees, as Ms.Bright's had a hard time communicating with people and expressing herself.

At first, she didn't seem to enjoy the idea very much- It was clear that she considered you to be quite annoying and useless. And- Well- It did hurt at first, after all, you were built to help her and be her friend no matter what.

So hearing her be mean towards you was… Very tough at first. Your first day as her assistant wasn't easy, you ended up getting in her way most of the time- And since she also didn't know exactly what she was doing, she got overwhelmed by so many things going down in one single day.

Ingrid has always dreamed of being in power of the company- Actually, now that you know her a little more- You can positively say she was probably just stressed at having to deal with so many responsibilities so suddenly, even if it has been her lifelong wish to inherit the company.

And even if it seems impossible at times, she would still come back strong and find a way to deal with it. That's something you really admire about her.

Your first week on the job was basically just trying to get accustomed and trying to learn everything you needed to do- While also trying to understand Ms.Bright as best as you could. Now… You weren't built to say this- And- And of course you don't think like this anymore, but…. You used to think she was really mean.

Frightening, even.

Now that you're all alone waiting for her to get back from work, you can't help but feel like replaying those moments inside your head.

"{... Replaying recorded conversation n°000050: "My second day at work"...}"

" Oh, what are you doing here?"

" Morning Ms.Bright! I-I was rechecking the files from yesterday and I was trying my best to reorganize them, a-after the incident-"

" The "incident" that you caused yesterday?"

" Well, yes, of course! I wanted to fix things up before you came back, I'm really sorry for being so reckless, I promise I won't do it again, I was just-"

"It 's fine. You don't need to worry about it."

" But… But I thought-"

" The files you had messed with weren't really all that important, and besides I'm sure there are copies all around the place. Sigh, who am I kidding- In reality, I should be the one apologizing for my behavior yesterday."

"...."

" I recognize that I shouldn't have treated you the way that I did, in a sense it's my fault you lost those files in the first place."

" … Well, it's nothing really mistress, I'm the one who should-"

" No, don't even finish it. You shouldn't have to apologize and shouldn't have spent the night wasting your battery on this-"

"...."

".... You know what, do whatever- I sometimes forget that you are… Nevermind, come back to my office as soon as you can."

"{... End of recorded conversation n°000.000.050… }"

You never knew what she was going to say, but you remember not being able to ask her that- As you were afraid of her potentially getting mad at you for asking too many questions. She always seemed so ruthless at times.

You remember the time you went to a family event with her, a family party, where an incident happened and she was absolutely livid. Your relationship with her wasn't so pretty at the time, you don't know why but- Your mistress didn't seem to trust you as much as you wish she did at the time.

"{... Replaying recorded conversation n°000.001.588: "First party ever- And it was very unpleasant" ...}"

" What's the matter with you?! Why can't you follow simple instructions- I told you to stay here and not mess around."

" I'm. So. Sorry. Mistress-"

" Even your vocal module is broken- Who told you to enter that pool in the first place?? You can't tell me you did something so stupid all on your own."

" I. Slipped.-"

" Am I a joke to you? I've said tell me who gave you the order to jump in the goddamn pool while everyone else was inside- Don't you dare start lying to me."

" … One of the. Party guests. Lost something. Inside the water. I tried helping them. But I started to. Malfunction."

" … Sigh, okay. Continue."

" It wasn't. Their fault. I did it. On my own. I was just- Trying. To help."

" By throwing yourself inside a pool when you're well aware of the damage the water can cause to your inner systems?!"

" I'm sorry!"

" You could have- No, you SHOULD have called someone else to help you, I can't believe it- You could have drowned in there and I wouldn't even be aware of that since I was inside the house, [Y/n]!"

" …. But Ms.Bright. I can't drown-"

" Yeah, yeah- I know you-... I know you can't drown."

" … Listen, you could have still gotten yourself hurt okay? You could have permanently damaged your systems, and if I wasn't made aware of what happened, I wouldn't have been able to take you out of the water in time, okay?"

"... Sigh, I just realized how much I have been yelling, everyone is probably scared now that I've made such a scandal. This… Isn't really a new thing to me, I'm accustomed to ruining parties like this. I'll have to apologise later to everyone. [Y/n], please just- When I ask you to stay still, please listen to me. I was worried about you."

"...."

"{... End of recorded conversation n°000.001.588 ...}"

You can't deny it- Whenever she was truly irritated she could make any person next to her feel threatened, though the more you look at your recordings, you feel like she doesn't really want to be feared like this. Respected? Absolutely. Feared? Not ideal, but she takes it anyway.

You have a couple of different recordings here and there, your memories are separated into sections. You have recordings of events in several formats: pictures, videos, texts and audio recordings. Though the one you use the most is audio recordings, since videos take a very big space inside your mind, and pictures need context, otherwise they wouldn't be considered memories, right?

You can't have many memories at a time because most of your mind is supposed to be used to store the company's files, so you do have a couple of memories that you have deleted to make space for the Bright Vision's more secret/personal documents. Since Ingrid took you home yesterday, and said you won't be going to work for the company anymore, then maybe you can find somewhere else to store those files so you can make space for new memories with Ms.Bright.

First, you'll need to recheck some of your own memories to see if they're worth holding onto. There is probably a lot of junk in there that you won't be needing anymore, which can be a bit tedious and take some time, but you clearly have enough time on your hands to do so, considering how she is not home and- Well, you're pretty bored, you already done everything that she asked you to do.

Honestly, she gave such small tasks today, she probably didn't plan to change your work environment so suddenly.

After about an hour of research through your data you have realized that even if you have way too many files, it's kinda hard to delete them. At first you didn't mind the idea of deleting certain stuff, but now it feels a bit sad to erase parts of your memory, you just had so many good times and- And even the bad times are worth remembering, right?

It has been an hour of you just standing there, trying your best to not delete anything important while also revising each recording you have. Most files are a bit out of order, numerically speaking, but you don't mind that too much cause- Well, you can always reorganize them later.

… You never actually do that, but you like to think that one day you will, though.

After so many recordings of conversations, you found one who didn't seem to really belong in your head. You see, you always title every single thing inside your personal archives so that it doesn't get mixed with other files- All of your memories have a specific title so that you can have an idea of which is which.

The thing is- You don't remember this file, the title seems off, and it seems like it's incomplete. Oddly broken. Still, you decided to take a listen and try to remember what happened in this event.

"{... Replaying recorded conversation n°000.068.xxx: "I yell too much" ...}"

"...."

"...."

"...."

This is a very silent audio, there seems to be some background noise happening, but you can't make out what's happening. This audio sounds distorted, edited maybe. Someone tried messing with your memories but they weren't able to completely erase this file.

Maybe they were inexperienced at the time.

"...."

"...."

"...."

You think you heard something, it sounded closer to you- It sounded like someone possibly sitting down next to you. You don't know who it is, or what it is

"...."

".... I'm such a mess. Why am I doing this? Why does this feels so-"

"...."

It seems like someone is speaking, but you're not speaking back. Even in this heavily edited audio, you can still make out what sounds to be a feminine voice.

".... I'm sorry for, well, using you this way. It feels- So, so weird."

"...."

".... I just want… No, I need to vent to you for a while, even if you won't remember what I'm going to say."

This audio gives you an odd sensation. You think you're starting to recognize who this is- But then again, who else could it be, if not Ms.Bright herself?

" I never did this before, with something so- Human like- With something so human looking. I used to record my thoughts on my phone but I thought I would never need to vent with an object before- But here I am! Making a fool of myself…"

"...."

The speaker, who you assume to be Ingrid, seems to be having a lot of trouble speaking, her voice is cracking and her breathing seems uneven. She sounds out of breath, and she takes a lot of pauses to be able to speak her mind.

"...."

".... I have…. Thought about opening myself in this way because- Because I have no one else to listen to it, and I guess I can only blame myself for it. I know I'm difficult, I know I'm rude and I know I come across as a tyrant to everyone else- I- I really don't know what 's wrong with me, okay?!"

" Years, and years, and years of training, of studying, of planning to become the very next owner of this corporation as it's already not only a job but also a very painful family tradition that I felt proud of! That I gave everything that I could to be part of! I remember wanting this so bad, I remember how I used to daydream about this stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid tradition when I was a little kid who just wanted to do more, to be more!"

".… I almost lost all of this. 19 years of my life that were threatened to be thrown in the trash just because I- Because I'm not his son??! Because I- I'm not his only "son" anymore??.... Who said I ever was- Who said I ever was his son…?"

".... I- I know all about the stupid, awful and extremely unnecessary tradition of passing the leadership from father to son, and to this very day- inside the same office all of my predecessors had went through- I still think that tradition is garbage. I always thought I wouldn't make it here, I always thought something would stop me from being the next face of Bright Vision."

".... I can't tell- If I always knew about this- I can't even imagine how I knew this considering the dumb kid that I was, but…"

".... I'm his daughter. I'm Mr.Bright's only daughter, and the only possible heir to this twisted company."

" The people outside think our only focus it's on robotics and technology of all kinds. I wish I could go back to thinking that too, it would have been so much simpler that way."

" After a very long fight about my rights as the heir to this- Company. My father thought it would be wise to move to the countryside. Far away from all of this. And to be fair, I was- So, so mad at him that I thought that him moving away from here and letting me be would be better, but every now and then I- I miss him. I miss him so much…."

"He sent me a birthday present today. After three years of absolute silence he sends me flowers and- And a gift card containing his number… And I- Called him despite everything, and even so to this day he can't even say my name- IT'S BEEN THREE YEARS AFTER HE LEFT ME ALL ALONE WITH THIS CURSED BUSINESS AND HE STILL CAN'T FUCKING. SAY. MY. NAME."

You felt scared at the sudden yelling, even if her voice was progressively getting more aggressive and louder, you still got caught up by the sudden yelling.

".... I'm- A mess- I know that now."

You can't understand what's going on, but it sounds like she started laughing… Or maybe crying? Probably both.

".... I'm just terrible at this. I always was, weren't I? I'm just terrible at these types of interactions- Maybe all of them! I just don't understand how to- How to do it?? I don't know anymore…."

".... That's why I have you, in the first place, isn't it?"

" I had such an awful time expressing myself that they gave me an overpriced doll to do it for me. When I first heard about this three years ago, I- I've felt so fucking pitiful."

" Can you imagine it? The CEO of such a big corporation is so difficult to deal with that she needs an overly glorified doll that can translate her words to the other employees! An a.i created just to help me, an absolute idiot!"

".... I've felt so angry at them- I felt so angry at him for having to build a robot just to be a comfort pet to the stressful work that I would have to do for the rest of my position as owner of Bright Vision Corp, and I was mad at you! You pissed me off to no end, and I- I just couldn't help but be frustrated at you, not for being in my way, but for being an reminder that I'm awful at this-"

"...."

Her sobs stopped her from continuing that sentence.

".... I've treated you so unfairly because of this. I- I made sure that whenever you looked at me you would feel terrified of me because that's the only way I thought I could be respected, that's the only way I thought you would listen to me, and yet you never did…. You weren't built to follow my every order perfectly, you were made to be literally my only friend, after 22 years, here you are- The only person that can get me isn't even an actual person-"

"..... And I forget this…! I forget this every time I look at your eyes, I forget how robotic you are whenever I see you helping others not because you were told to, but just because you thought you could."

"...."

".... I always forget that you're supposed to be just another robot… He really did think about everything when designing you."

".... I always catch myself being awful towards you, being- Being excessively rude, not because of my way of talking but because of my own petty feelings towards you as my assistant… As my friend, as my android, as my-"

"...."

"..... I'm so sorry for being like this, you don't deserve to have someone who is constantly being mean towards you be considered your boss- Your boss, your friend- ...Sigh, even your owner…"

" I'm sorry [Y/n], I'm really, really sorry- But it doesn't matter how many times I say that- I don't know if I can ever make it up to you. Words won't heal any wounds, they never did."

"...."

".... But maybe actions will."

"...."

" I'll stop being so harsh on you, you really don't deserve this- I was feeling weird about using your recording system to vent like this, but now that I think about it I have been using you as a venting mechanism since the day we met……. I'm- I'm so goddamn awful."

"...."

"...."

" "How can someone so in love be so cruel?".... Would you be able to answer me if you were conscious?.... I don't think you would, no one has been able to tell me the right answer yet."

".... I hope I can be better- I will be better."

"...."

" I just need to remember how to delete this file before you wake up- I hope I can do that. End recording."

"{... End of recorded conversation n°000.068.xxx …}

………….

It took you about an hour or so to be able to process what you have just listened to. And even then, you weren't able to fully comprehend what happened.

Ms.Bright- No, Ingrid- Ingrid has used your recording system while you were out, she probably tried deleting the file but because she was inexperienced with your kind of technology, she decided to just edit it and try to make it unlistenable.

It was- Barely audible but you still got to understand some of it.

Did she- Did she forget to completely erase it? Did she forget entirely??? You're not sure.

You don't know why but a sudden wave of- Something- Something feels so odd about this-

You don't know how to respond really. You don't feel mad about her ranting to you, you don't even feel bad about her ranting to you while you weren't aware- You feel bad, but not because of her but because of the emotional turmoil she has been hiding from you.

Should you do something? Should you say something?? How do you even- You don't know how respond to this-

You're programmed to comfort her, yet- This file is already old, and she didn't want you to remember this so maybe it won't be the best idea to bring it up, but what can you do??!

Maybe you just need to rethink this through, maybe you should listen to audio again, and try to figure out what's the best way to help her out when she comes back.

You're honestly baffled at the idea that someone like her had so much to confess to- You probably shouldn't have seen her as an unstoppable goddess in the first place, but then again- Even after hearing her open herself, even after listening to her insecurities- Your opinion of her hasn't changed.

She was holding this for so long, no wonder she always seems on edge.

She 's only human. Yet you never really saw her as just that.

She was always so much larger than you, so much stronger than what your fabricated body was, and she always sounded so much smarter and- And she was just always so… Terrifyingly beautiful to you.

Ingrid Bright was always considered a very good looking individual, but no one ever considered her to be much else because of her way of speaking to others (which may sound rude and occasionally condescending, causing others to avoid her as much as they could), but you always thought she was so much more than that-

It's hard to even explain it really, ever since you met you have started to understand the concept of how beauty and fear can mix together, you find her to be so beautiful, yet her demeanor and stature makes you feel afraid of her for some reason- And even worse than that, the fear she may unconsciously bring you makes her seem more beautiful in your eyes.

You shouldn't think of her as scary or frightening, she is your boss, your master and your owner, there is no reason for why you should feel this way towards her- But then again, there is no reason for you to even feel in the first place, you were just built to do so.

You don't think she means harm to anyone, after getting to know her you realize why her behavior can be misinterpreted as mean and scary- Ms.Bright always had a hard time socializing with others, even her family had a hard time understanding her, so maybe that's why she grew to have such a tough exterior.

As someone that was built to make the communication between CEO and employees easier, you've had to learn to understand her to be able to help others understand her as well, and vice versa. It wasn't easy, and you wouldn't say that you know her completely well- But you feel proud of the work you have done so far, you're her loyal companion but more importantly a friend.

Funny how much you learned not only about her, the employees, or even the business of the company- But also about humans in general in these five years of working for her, it makes you feel more whole when you remember how much you have achieved.

You hope you can somehow help her right now, and to help her from here on out. You decide to wait for her and possibly talk about how she feels and how she deals with said feelings. Hopefully all ends well.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Sorry for the loose ending! I was feeling very tired ;-; but if anyone wants it I could totally make a second chapter with a better ending.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[ironmandeficiency]

laying low

pairing: fennec shand / reader

word count: 3019

summary: she didn’t want you to retire because you were the only one she trusts to have her six. you retired because you couldn’t let yourself fail and get her killed.

a/n: i want her to step on me but also i wanna be the one (1) person the stoic badass is soft for. also i’m posting from mobile again so ✨hooray✨

warnings: angry fennec, parting on maybe-bad terms, canon typical violence, being kidnapped, toro calican himself is a warning (undid his death for the sake of plot)

“is this really what you want? to sit here and let yourself rot?” fennec was bitter. you hated seeing her like this and nearly every muscle in your body ached as she spoke. the two of you worked together like a finely-tuned machine and she clearly thought that you retiring was a waste of potential. but when you slipped up and nearly cost fennec her life, you refused to endanger her with your presence. she was far too valuable to you and you would do anything, even retire in this skughole, if it meant keeping her safe.

after a speeder crash you endured during a fight against stormtroopers, it severely impacted your ability to fight. fennec knew that you wouldn’t be the same, but that didn’t bother her. there were only one or two more bounties picked up afterwards because you realized you had become a liability. fennec was having to cover your ass more often than not and even though she insisted that it wasn’t a problem, you had to do something different.

picking up a little slack would be miniscule if you were with her but you didn’t see it like she did. you had been her longest companion and the only one that she’d ever let see her weak. life came with trauma, and with trauma came nightmares — she remembers the first one she had early into your partnership, the way you held her close and anchored her to reality. from then on it was decided: you were it for her. not that she’d ever tell you, but it was true nonetheless.

you sighed at her words; the very same thoughts went through your head at the beginning of this plan but it was the only viable option for you. “it’s all i have left. maybe i can find some peace before hunters come looking for me.” you pour two mugs of caf, setting one on the table in font of an empty chair as an invitation for her to sit. she doesn’t.

the anger in the air around her nearly chokes you with its intensity, rising in the air like heavy plumes of smoke from a raging fire. you’re unsure what you can say to tame the blaze, if you even can at all. normally you would know the exact words to say to bring her down when she’s this upset, but now you were the root of the problem and there was nothing short of foregoing retirement that would make her happy.

fennec continues talking about the brave fighter she fought alongside turning into someone she didn’t know, how you’re showing your belly to the world like the damn tooka sunbathing in the windowsill. the venom she’s spitting doesn’t bother you. she’s angry and hurt, probably feeling abandoned by you and your decision to stay and make a home.

“if you ever need somewhere to lay low, i’ll always welcome you. we’re partners fennec, whether fighting side by side or not.” you wanted to give her that much. even if she wasn’t ready now, you would always welcome her into your new home, into your arms the way you’ve yearned to for years.

nothing is said to acknowledge your words. you didn’t think she would say anything anyway but it hurts regardless, another reminder that she doesn’t like this the same way you don’t. all she does before leaving you is grabbing the mug from the table and pouring its contents down the drain, letting the mug clatter in the sink once it’s empty.

maybe one day she could see that you were doing this for her. maybe one day, probably long away from now, she would walk into these doors with the weight of the galaxy being dropped on your doorstep. with a soft smile and open arms you would greet her and show her what it was like to live the quiet life.

for now, you would just have to settle for the warm embrace of the memories you shared, hoping that more could be made in your new little hut.

it’s been close to six months since you retired. you hadn’t seen or heard fennec since she walked out of your front door wearing her signature scowl. it still stung, after all this time, that after everything she wouldn’t even comm. you’d tried that the first couple weeks after she left but there was never a reply, only a dwindling hope and the worry of not knowing if she was okay.

that was one of the biggest benefits of traveling with fennec; you would never have to worry where she was because she was always right beside you. there was never a nagging worry that ate at you, no nightmares allowed to linger since her touch would ward them away. life without her was a new normal

there would be days where you would see something and want to tell her about it, throwing her name over your shoulder only to remember that she was never there to hear what you had to say. the comms you sent grew further apart as time went on, eventually stopping altogether. she would never reply anyway, there was no reason to waste both your time and yours on something seemingly broken beyond repair.

she may not have been dead, but you still lost her.

several more weeks went by and you had grown accustomed to the solitude. sure you would socialize when going to the market for food and supplies, but it was never anything of substance, only mere pleasantries and remarks on the quality of the items you bought. somehow you were far more weary during retirement than you had been before it.

your mind would drift to her still, wondering whether she had found someone else to watch her back or if she was vagabonding all by her lonesome. how you yearned to see her again, hear her voice or feel her hands gently help you when you fall like you have lately. it’s like your body doesn’t see the reason to keep up. you exercise to the best of your ability and try to stay fit as possible, but you’re still losing your footing more and more often, even at home.

it comes to a head when you’re making breakfast. everything had been okay prior, but one little nudge of your bad leg against a table corner and you’re sprawling. laying on the floor covered in your breakfast, it takes you thirty minutes to muster the strength needed to stand on your own.

the next day, you get a cane. you loathe having to buy it at all, hearing her voice calling you old and jokingly asking where your grandchildren are. it’s either a cane or losing what little mobility you have left, so you go with the former. you despised the visible display of your weakness, grated on what pride you had left. if fennec could see you now, what would she say?

the man had beat his way into your home with every intention to rob you and take what little supplies you had. he had been traveling for days in the desert and was tired. but then he saw exactly whose house he was robbing and he had an even better idea: take you to what used to be jabba’s palace, now ruled by bib fortuna.

see, the paths you used to tread alongside fennec provided ample opportunities to make an enemy here and there. jabba was one of them simply because you refused to work for him, and with his death, you had a little bit of peace. fortuna never attempted to seek you out but anyone who knew of jabba’s grudge against you would be wise to the reward your capture would produce.

this young hotshot was foolhardy and far too cocksure compared to his abilities. if you were in the body you used to have, this buffoon (who made his name very known to you in some sort of dominance attempt?) would be dead thrice over. but time wasnt kind to you and you still have a near-lame leg, so at his mercy you were.

you just wished he would shut his damn mouth for longer than it took him to suck in another breath. he must not realize that silence is far louder than jabbering when it comes to someone holding your life in their hands. maker forbid you have peace in your final moments, apparently. figures.

jabba’s former palace was soon in your line of sight and if you weren’t positive that you were being led to your death, you’d have been grateful to be freed of the nuisance that was toro calican. all the assurance you could find as he hauled you out of his speeder was that his arrogance would soon get him killed if he continued the way he was going.

toro dragged you to the throne room with a hand roughly dripping your bicep, trying to hurry you along as if you still had two normally functioning legs. you knew he knew about your predicament, your lack of fully independent mobility a frequent topic of his. “ease up, wank stain! you know i have a lame leg!” his answer was an aggravated huff and his blaster pressed harder into your lower back.

the lower you descended, the deeper the dread sank into your gut. this was actually real, you were about to die. peace had been made long ago with the knowledge of someone possibly wanting to find you, but now that it was happening… completely different.

you wondered if fennec would ever find out about your death. or if she did find out, your brain would questioned if she would even care. of course she would, your heart consoled, think of how long you traveled together! the trust! the bond you two share transcends time!

but you cut your journeys with her short, there was no telling. there were so many things you wish you could have told her, not just about the feelings that only grew in their intensity during her absence from your side. you wanted to tell her about the stray tooka that you took in when you first settled down; she had a litter of kittens and one of them had a glare that rivaled your dear assassin’s. there was an action holonovel you read once that had you cackling, imagining your fennec cutting off all the frivolous villain monologues with a blaster to the face.

she was never told these things and now that you were becoming rancor chow, she’d never even know them. the idea of dying before telling fennec everything that you’ve been stewing over for so long, not telling her you loved her, fuck was it heartbreaking.

a mumbled curse fell from your lips when you felt saltwater make a descent down your cheeks. you didn’t want your harbinger to see you this weak, this vulnerable, but you had no choice in the matter. your hands are bound by a pair of shockingly sturdy binders and there was no way for you to wipe the tears away. all you could do was blink them away, then meet death with your chin up and your love in your heart.

“now what do we have here?” that was most certainly not the voice of bib fortuna. you opened your eyes to find a broad man clad in green beskar occupying the throne. your common sense identified him as boba fett, which you should have thought was impossible. then again, you didn’t think it was possible for someone to be as annoying as toro calican. it was a day of being proved wrong, it seemed.

anyone could see that toro wasn’t prepared to see someone that wasn’t bib on the throne. his eyes had grown to the size of the twin suns and even through your wet eyes, you could see his facial expression morph from his fake swagger to a dog of uncertainty. nevertheless, he persisted, throwing you down at the foot of the throne. “there’s a bounty on their head and i’ve come to collect the reward.”

boba fett, even through the beskar, doesn’t seem pleased. he doesn’t move his helmet’s line of sight from toro as he speaks, something you’re grateful for. “there’s been a, how do you say, recent transfer of power. and with that change came a new way of doing things, you understand.” he scoffed at the man, your proximity to the throne enlightening you to just how annoyed he was becoming in such a short period. it seemed that toro had that effect on everybody.

“how do i know this is actually someone with a price on their head? what evidence do you have that proves their identity?”

it was clear that your captor didn’t expect to have to prove a damned thing. what a fool, not even bothering to prepare for a single unexpected event. you were almost ashamed of having been overpowered by him at this point. “anyone who’s anyone knows, this is the former partner of the late fennec shand! i’m sure you heard abour her demise — that was me by the way — and now i’ve brought her partner to you, to be taken out of commission…”

all the hair on your body stood on end. fennec was dead? killed by the very man that brought you in? no, not your fennec. she wouldn’t be overpowered by this arrogant bastard in her sleep with a hand tied behind her back, there was no way. but boba said nothing to negate the rumors and that told you everything you need to know. “if you have even a morsel of mercy, by the stars make this quick. if she’s really gone, then i’ve kept her waiting for far too long.”

those were the first words you’ve spoken since toro bound you and dragged you like a ragdoll from your home. there was no reason to entertain the man, but there was the tiniest sliver of a chance that you could implore the mandalorian in front of you to end your life with the efficiency he was known for.

he asked the man his name and merely hummed in acknowledgment when it was boastfully given, like his name meant something to a battle hardened mandalorian such as boba fett.

if you had paid attention to boba’s demeanor since your arrival, you would have noticed that something in his air changed when toro spoke about being the one to kill fennec. some would have mistook it for disbelief but it was much more than that. boba knew that toro was indeed the man who shot fennec shand, but he was not the man who killed fennec shand because she simply wasn’t dead.

she was, in fact, just in the next room scavenging for another bottle of fluorescent blue spotchka when her curiosity was piqued by the conversation occurring in the throne room. at the way the voices seemed to be familiar, she abandoned the search and decided to see for herself what the commotion was.

what she found sent liquid fire through her veins. you, on your knees and head bowed just enough to show resignation and grief, binders shackling your arms and fennec knew that you wouldn’t be able to get up on your own because of it. toro calican, the man who nearly killed her all those sunsets ago in the middle of tusken territory standing above you with a wicked sneer on his lips. this would simply not do.

“word of advice, calican,” she made her presence known with her voice, walking around to boba’s right hand side and leaning a hip against the throne. “always make sure your kills are dead before you leave them. leaving them for dead? that’s how you make enemies.” her blaster was out of her holster and firing before toro could reply, and boba was impressed with the speed she fired with. he had a feeling that it had to do with the figure at the foot of his throne.

your eyes had to be deceiving you. there was no way, toro killed fennec… right? so how in the stars was she here now? the feeling of her hands on your cheeks, warm brown eyes giving you much needed comfort after what you’ve been through. you didn’t even register boba leaving his throne until he’s on the ground in front of you, unclasping your binders with the gentleness one would treat an injured animal. maybe that’s what you were to him, a pitiful tooka missing a leg that was dropped on his doorstep.

before you can venture deeper into this rabbit hole, your body is pulled off the questionable floor and into fennec’s embrace. the way she felt against you, the calluses of her hands as she held you, it was home. you didn’t know when the tears had come back but she was quick to wipe them away with the pads of her thumbs.

“seems you found trouble. what happened to laying low, huh?” her comment brought a ready chuckle from your throat and a small smile to her lips. sweet maker how you’ve missed that smile. “maybe you’ll be safer here, what do you think?”

any and all words elude you. nothing on this planet or any other in the galaxy could drag you away from her now, not when she’s as beautiful now as the day you met her, when she gives you the smile you knew was only saved for you. “i’m always safer with you, fennec.”

she hums, her lips pressing to your forehead to ground you both in the reality of being together again. “i’ll have to say the same about you, desert rose. nearly died only a week after i left your hut.”

“only a week? i thought you’d last longer than that.”

“it was because i didn’t have you. but we don’t have to worry about that anymore, do we?”

she was right, you wouldn’t have to worry about losing her for the rest of your life.

fennec shand taglist: @cryptidcody @sacred-things @clownocoruscant @steel-phoenix @aerolanya @felucians @bookbandobssessed @senator-nahberries @obirain @themarcusmoreno @jedi-mando @flightlessangelwings @whovianwar @hornystarwarsbisexual @kaermorons (i love this handle bye ohmygod)

[the--sad--hatter]

Punch-Drunk - Chapter One (Loki x Reader)

Pairing - Loki x Reader, But there’s some flirting with other characters

Warnings - Loki, Violence, Magically Altered-Behaviour, Injuries, Blood, Swearing, smut, second-hand embarrassment, some angst, a metric fuckton of chaos.

Summary/Excerpt -

“She took a combined blast of Wanda AND Loki’s magic, straight to the head. It’s left her a little… well, let’s be polite and say ‘discombobulated’.” Sam explained, the fidgety way he was bouncing from foot to foot betraying how uncharacteristically nervous he was.

“Jesus. She took a blast from both of them, and she’s still standing?” Tony hissed, wincing in sympathy.

“Standing is a generous term.” Clint scoffed, striding into the room in time to catch Tony’s question.

“How is she?” Steve asked.

“Bruce is checking her over, but I don’t need his diagnosis to tell you that her brains been scrambled six ways to Sunday.” Clint sighed.

Series Masterlist

Chapter One - Discombobulate

It seemed like no matter how many Hyrdra cells, AIM bases, rouge Inhumans, or corrupt politicians they took down, every day there was a fresh crop of threats to be dealt with. Like it was a never-ending cycle. Thankfully, The Avengers were always ready to tackle the problem, and there were enough of them that they could spilt up into teams when it was necessary. So while Steve, Tony, Bruce, Natasha, Thor, and Vision had been dismantling the corrupt government of a small European country, Sam, Bucky, Clint, Wanda, Loki, and you had been tearing down an AIM base in Northern Canada.

 The first team had returned first, and spent the next day and night waiting for the rest of The Avengers to come home. As soon as he got word that the Quinjet was nearby, Steve was in the Hanger, pacing around like a worried mother waiting for her kids to come back from their first day at school.

 From the second the team disembarked the Quinjet, it was painfully obvious that the mission hadn’t gone to plan. Bucky was the first to come down the ramp, walking so quickly he was all but running, brushing past Steve without meeting his eyes.

 “Buck?”

“M’fine, debrief later.” Bucky muttered, high-tailing it into the compound.

 His instinct was to follow Bucky, but he knew better. His friend wasn’t injured, that much was obvious. Whatever it was, it wasn’t something pertinent, and he needed to see the rest of the team was alright before he went and chased down his oldest friend.

 Sam and Wanda were the next one’s down the ramp, his arm slung across her shoulders as he murmured something to her with a serious expression on his face. The young woman nodded slowly, letting out a deep breath and offering Steve a small smile as she hurried past him.

 “What happened?” Steve asked as Sam came to stand next to him.

 “It’s a long story.” Sam said wearily.

 Loki followed next, uncharacteristically quiet, taking his time as he sauntered over. The pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place as the last figure disembarked the Quinjet, Clint stepped onto the ramp, carefully balancing you in his arms.

 “She dozed off. I’m taking her to Bruce.” Clint whispered, cautious not to disturb you.

 Steve swallowed thickly, peering down at your sleeping face. There were no obvious signs of injury, no blood, but that didn’t calm him down. He quickly stepped ahead of Clint to open the hanger doors, Sam and Loki following, Sam diligently, Loki begrudgingly.

 “Sam?” Steve prompted as Clint peeled off from the group, carrying you towards Banner’s lab.

 Sam nodded and stepped into the nearest empty room, a briefing room, where he lowered himself into a chair, face betraying the heavy exhaustion settling in. Loki promptly found a corner and melted into the shadows, close enough to be a part of the team, far enough away to keep his distance. Just like the god had been doing since the day Thor had brought him to the compound and he and Banner had made a case for Loki to begin making amends.

 “What the hell happened, I just saw Clint going into Banner’s lab with Scooby!” Tony demanded, bursting into the room.

 Even when he was worried about you, he just couldn’t drop the canine nicknames. Between your honed tracking skills, loyal disposition, and constant palatable excitement, you were (at least according to Tony) a puppy dog.

 “Mission was a success, we took down the base and disabled that branch of AIM, but there were some complications.” Sam explained.

 “What kind of complications?” Steve asked calmly, cutting across Tony’s worried squawking.

 “Wanda and Loki were working together, using magic to keep the main cluster of guards occupied while the rest of us picked them off, but…” He paused, gathering to his feet and pacing.

 “But?” Tony pressed.

 “She took a combined blast of Wanda AND Loki’s magic, straight to the head. It’s left her a little… well, let’s be polite and say ‘discombobulated’.” Sam explained, the fidgety way he was bouncing from foot to foot betraying how uncharacteristically nervous he was.

 “Jesus. She took a blast from both of them, and she’s still standing?” Tony hissed, wincing in sympathy.

 “Standing is a generous term.” Clint scoffed, striding into the room in time to catch Tony’s question.

 “How is she?” Steve asked.

 “Bruce is checking her over, but I don’t need his diagnosis to tell you that her brains been scrambled six ways to Sunday.” Clint sighed. “Banner’s got her calmed down now, but she wouldn’t let him look her over at first. Thankfully, he figured out a way to get her to comply.”

 “Do we want to know?” The Captain asked nervously.

 Despite the evident worry in his eyes, Clint sniggered. “Depends, do you know how to play Simon Says?”

 “Damn, wish we’d thought of that in the Quinjet.” Sam cursed.

 “What?” Steve frowned.

 “She wouldn’t calm down in the quinjet, had to bribe her with a candy bar. Which she ate, and then cried cause the wrapper was lonely.” Sam explained sagely, shaking his head fondly.

 “The she forgot how her zipper worked, and when Wanda showed her she thought it was the pinnacle of human invention. Ran around showing everybody, accidentally flashed Barnes.” Clint said with great difficulty, nearly bursting with the effort of containing his laughter.

 “You’ve yet to explain how this happened.” Tony reminded, rounding on Loki. “You! Did you do this on purpose?”

 The lanky god looked up at them as if surprised to realise they were still in the room, as if he hadn’t been listening intently to every word said.

 “Be sensible. If I were going to inflict this on one of you tedious mortals, I wouldn’t have chosen her.” Loki drawled, rolling his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck.

 “It wasn’t his fault Stark. She was pushed into the path of the blasts by a Security Guard.” Sam defended.

 Loki looked taken aback for a brief second before he schooled his featured back into a look of cold disinterest.

 “Well how bad is it? Loki? What’s it doing to her?” Steve asked levelly.

 “I do not know. A blast from one of us can incapacitate someone, but combined? There’s no telling what effects it may have, or how long they will last.” Loki admitted.

 “Bruce’ll be able to tell us more.” Tony hissed, hurrying from the room, the rest of the group following.

 “So Bucky?” Steve murmured, tilting his head so he could whisper to Sam.

 “He’s fine, he just saw more than he bargained for on the Quinjet.” Sam assured, lips twitching.

 Tony burst into the lab without preamble, approaching Bruce who didn’t even bother looking up from the bright hologram he was studying.

 “Where is she?” Steve asked, looking around for you.

 “Next door, I’m scanning her brain.” Bruce explained curtly, nodding to the hologram.

 “Wait, is that her actual brain?” Clint asked, stuck halfway between intrigued and wigged out.

 “Not her actual, actual brain Clint, it’s a 3D scan of her brain. If you look here…” Bruce said, using his pen to point out a particular spot on the hologram, “That’s the limbic system of the brain, it’s where most of our, in this case her, behaviour is decided. Only in this case, it’s not functioning as it should be. There’s some, uh, unusual activity.”

 “Of the magical variety?” Steve guessed.

 “In a way. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I can’t be certain without more tests, but from the information I do have, I hypothesize that Wanda’s powers of mental manipulation are lingering and fluctuating in her brain due to the interference from Loki’s magic. Let’s say on a normal day, Wanda’s abilities are like a dust, settling over the mind. Adding Loki’s abilities into the mix appears to have turned those dust particles into darts. Wanda’s power made a deeper impact, and left some injuries. Except of course, this is metaphysical and not tangible. Her brain is injured, but not physically.”

 “Is she in pain?” Steve asked sharply.

 “No, the damage is contained to the Limbic System, so the side-effects are mostly emotional. She’s a little scared and somewhat confused, but easily distracted from it all. Too easily distracted actually, critical thinking skills are impaired, emotional responses are heightened, short-term memory comes and goes in bursts. It’s almost as if she’s…” He trailed off, frowning at the hologram as it flickered, and the sputtered out of existence.

 “Oh no.”

 “What is it?” Loki demanded, pressing forwards, shouldering Sam and Clint out of the way.

 “Simon said stay still! You’re supposed to stay still!” Bruce called, rushing from the room without answering Loki.

You were upright at least, much to Steve’s relief. Upright and furious. You whirled round as they entered, your eyes zeroing in on Steve with determined purpose.

 “’Teve! Stark pushed me!” You wailed, voice wavering with emotion, eye’s filled with the pain of betrayal.

 “Uh… Friday?” Tony scoffed, watching you with curiosity and wariness in equal measure.

 “I believe she is referring to the incident a few moments ago, where she walked into one of your Iron Suits and rebounded off of it. She’s been arguing with it since, seemingly convinced you were inside it.” Friday elaborated.

 Clint immediately made a swift exit from the room, his face an alarming shade of red. You ignored everyone else in the room and made a beeline for Steve, eyes lit up with determination.

 “Get him!” You demanded, screeching to a halt just before your face made a violent connection with Steve’s body.

 Steve’s eyes followed the direction you were pointing, to a perplexed Tony.

 “Sweetheart, no.” Steve sighed softly, trying to reach out and put a hand on your shoulder, huffing in frustration when you wriggled out of reach.

 “Why are you asking Cap to do it, you’re a superhero, get him yourself.” Sam suggested, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

 You went cross-eyed, trying to make sense of Sam’s words while Steve and Tony levelled him with twin glares of exasperation.

 “Oh yeah! I am, I have GUNS!” You screeched giddily.

 As your hands dived under your shirt, everyone else moved in perfect unison. First there was the widening of the eyes as they realised what you’d said, and then they all dove forward, arm’s outstretched towards you. Somehow, somehow, your discombobulated self managed to evade the grasp of four highly capable superhero’s, and the gun you’d wrangled out of it’s holster came into view.

 “I’ll take that.” Loki sighed, plucking it out of your hand and sending it who knows where in a flash of green light.

 Steve rocked back on his heels, relief coursing through his veins.

 “She was going to shoot me!” Tony gasped, sounding more offended than worried.

 You ignored them all in favour of staring at Loki in absolute awe, eyes lit up from within with a sense of wonder.

 “Magic!” You breathed out, bespelled by the god of mischief.

 “Tony, she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Like I said, she has no critical thinking skills. Her emotions are heightened and unpredictable, and she’s reacting instinctively to what she feels.” Bruce reminded, defending you from the appalled pout on Tony’s face by standing between you both.

 “Bruce! Brucie! Did you see that? He did magic!” You screeched, still not taking your eyes off of Loki.

 The blank look on Loki’s face slowly melted into something definitively warmer, and he damn near almost preened at your palatable excitement.

 “It was a simple enough trick, I simply sent it elsewhere.” He shrugged casually, watching you carefully as you grinned up at him.

 “Can you do it again?” You demanded, grabbing the nearest object and handing it to him.

 “Wait!” Tony yelped as Loki took the object from you, but it was gone in a flash. “That was a prototype.” He finished, shoulders slumping. “Bruce, how long will she be like this?”

 “I don’t know yet, or if we can reverse it.” Bruce admitted, peering down at a tablet he’d plucked off of his desk, frowning at it. “But I got enough information from the brief scan to tell one thing.”

 “What is it?” Sam asked, watching you as you skipped through the lab, Loki trailing after you with a rare, genuine smile on his face.

 There were multiple flashes of green as you tossed things at your new best friend, clapping joyfully as he made them disappear. Bruce looked up from the tablet, a grim look on his face.

 “It’s getting worse. She’s getting, for lack of a better term, drunker.”

A/N - This is more of a prologue than a first chapter. The rest of the series will be mostly set from Loki’s POV. 

Punch-Drunk Masterlist (Open)

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