#that funeral was insane they were so upset for like a week. i had some compassion. and then she was straight back to.

[inkats]

im goinga to aill myself.

[icallhimjoey]

bookstore joe hits different and i want to be hit once more right across the face pretty please

im sorry to the girls who arent into bookstore joe and im very not sorry to the girls who are into bookstore joe - enjoy babes! Wordcount: 2.4K

---

I Want To Hold Your Hand

When Joe walked in just after three, he greeted Anne who was stood behind the counter, doing some till work, and he got a small grunt in reply.

Standard. Made him smile. No sign of you, though.

Joe looked, craned his neck, but every corner of the store was empty. You were probably doing something in the back. He’d see you in a second.

Like always, he found a book, found a seat, and settled in for at least an hour of reading. He had the time today. Time to sit. Time to read. To soak up the atmosphere. To maybe kiss you again, if he was lucky. Time to notice how Anne was being more quiet than usual. To see how she was helping customers in a voice so unnatural to her own, it kind of freaked him out a little. To see her disappear into the back and come out back on her own, and...

Where were you?

He’d kissed you a few days ago. Kissed you. And now, something felt... weird. Like something was missing.

It was nearing in on 4PM and Anne hadn’t yet told him to fuck off, or whatever, so he knew something was off.

It was quiet in the store when Joe spoke up and asked, “Hey, Anne... am I going insane, or–”

“It’s your fault.” she was quick to cut him off, not even looking up from her task.

Joe frowned. What had he done?

“What have I done?”

Anne sighed and gestured a vague hand at him as she said, “Just your mere existence.” like it was obvious.

Joe thought back to all of your recent interactions. Your granddad had sadly passed away just over two weeks ago. Last week he tried cheering you up by showing you some pictures from the shoot you allowed him to do in the store. He’d kissed you then. The funeral had happened, and Anne had let Joe help out behind the till for a second and... now, you were... hiding?

From him?!

Surely not.

That was going to make this plan of sneaking another kiss absolutely impossible.

Unacceptable.

Anne watched Joe go through every single thing he’d done or said over the past few days that could’ve upset you, and then begrudgingly sighed.

“You’re such an idiot.” Anne said, before nodding her head towards the door that read personnel - the same door Joe had walked through ten seconds into his first ever visit.

Joe didn’t need telling twice.

When he stepped into the breakroom, he wasn’t prepared for how he found you.

You were sat at the table, buried in your laptop, one leg up on the chair, chin resting on your knee, and it was obvious you’d been crying. No matter how sweetly you smiled at the sight of him, it was obvious. Your face still eyed somewhat blotchy, eyes void of make-up and the delicate skin around them coloured red.

“Hey,” you didn’t seem surprised at the sight of him, at the fact that he’d just walked right into a room he technically wasn’t really allowed to be in.

“Hey, you– I’m sorry, you weren’t in the store, Anne said I could–... are you all right?”

Your smile grew as you nodded.

“Yea, sorry. Something, happened... earlier, it’s nothing,” you were quick to wave a hand, dismissing whatever had gotten you to hide in the back entirely. “I’m okay. How are you?”

Joe didn’t believe you. Didn’t buy it for a second. He felt like he should, because it felt like it was polite to take you for your word, but he couldn’t help the suspicious narrowing of his eyes.

“What happened?”

“Well, nothing, really. I overreacted to something and–”

“To what?” Joe interrupted, and immediately apologised. “Sorry, I... I’m sorry, I just...”

He just, what? If Joe knew, he would’ve told you, but it was not that long ago that Joe found you crying in a closed store and this felt oddly similar.

He didn’t like you upset.

Made him want to fix it.

“I promise I’m okay, just... it was for the best for me to not face any customers for a second, and I had to do some administrative work anyway, so...”

Joe’s eyes fell on your laptop as you gestured at it, and then he saw what was next to it.

He recognised it instantly.

The book you’d never sell.

Was it insane to think that he knew something was missing in the storefront? That he’d subconsciously noticed that it wasn’t in its spot? On the shelf? Where it always sat?

Probably was.

“Oh, um...” you saw Joe’d noticed and laid a flat palm on the leather-bound cover. “Yea, this was,” you had to stop to swallow.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Joe quickly decided. He didn’t want to make you start crying again. He wanted exactly the opposite, actually.

“No, it’s not–” you cleared your throat and sat up straight. You didn’t want to get emotional again over such a silly thing. “It’s Anne. She sat me down here and refuses to let me do anything else.”

You used her as you excuse. You weren’t lying; Anne really had said that you could stay in the breakroom for the rest of the day. She’d man the front on her own fine. Would find you with questions but then would tell you everything was going okay and leave you on your own again. But she wasn’t keeping you there. You were keeping you there.

“Ah. Can’t piss off Anne, can we?” Joe smirked slightly.

“I think we piss off Anne all the time,” you laughed, and it broke the tension a little.

Joe awkwardly stood in the middle of the breakroom and you were sort of glad he was there, but you wished you would’ve just been in the storefront with him. That you would’ve gotten to see his face as he’d walked in. As he’d sat down with his book. As he’d crossed his legs and let his head rest in his palm of which the elbow pushed into the armrest.

Joe was still staring at where your hand was placed, and now that you couldn’t seem to move your hand away from the big book of fairytales and folklore your granddad used to read you stories from, it felt only fair to explain why you’d gotten upset earlier that day.

“Someone tried to buy it.”

It was so stupid, because, before, when someone would climb up a ladder and find it, you would smile and just tell them, “No sorry, that one belongs to the store, I’m afraid.” and calmly take it from their hands to put it back.

Where your granddad used to make you reach for it when you were little.

Where your mother would pluck you from a ladder and scold her father for making you climb up so high.

Where it lived.

Where it had always lived.

It had never been a problem before. People were allowed to touch it. To read it. To ask to buy it. You’d just tell them no, and that would be the end of it.

Not today, though.

“They caused a bit of a scene when I said they couldn’t.”

You smiled as you said it, but Joe saw right through it.

“They were right though. Why keep a book in a bookstore when it’s not for sale? It’s right in between all of the books that are... I should just, I don’t know. Keep it some place else, I guess.”

“Of course not.” Joe reacted matter-of-factly.

You’d just gone through something extremely traumatic, were still going through something extremely traumatic, and why would you listen to someone who didn’t know? Who didn’t understand?

Joe thought he barely even understood, but he understood this.

He understood the blotchy skin. He understood Anne banning you from your own store for the rest of the day. He understood why you weren’t moving your hand from your grandfather’s book that he used to read you your favourite story from.

“I hope this doesn’t sound insensitive, but... I kind of wish I’d have been here when that happened.”

Not so that he could be the hero. Not so that he could step in and tell them to maybe just accept what the store owner was telling them.

“I would’ve loved to see Anne’s face.”

That made you chuckle. Anne really was your personal guard dog, as so it turned out.

“It was a pretty great face,” you recalled, smiling to yourself. God, you really lucked out with her.

“Store’s fairly empty now, though...” Joe pointed a casual thumb over his shoulder, and you looked at the door to where Anne still was manning the front.

You took a deep breath and grimaced a little, “Yea, I know... but, I kind of... I have some things I can finish here,” you pulled your laptop towards you. “And we’re nearly closing, anyway, so...”

You had already decided this was going to be the place where you would do all of your work today, and didn’t really want to come out of hiding. You’d do that after Anne would lock up. When there wouldn’t be any chance of the bell above the door jolting you back into your anxiety.

Joe thought for a moment. Looked at you, your laptop, your grandfather’s book, and...

“Would you mind some silent company?”

That one other time he had found you all fragile and up in your emotions, he’d just sat down right next to you, started reading a book in silence, and it had worked. He kind of wanted to give it another go. See if it would also work a second time.

“I–...” you faltered and looked at the wooden chairs around the table you were sat at. “These aren’t half as comfortable as the ones out front.”

“I asked, would you mind it?” Joe let his eyes twinkle, lips almost smiling. It made you drop your shoulders a bit as you relaxed at the idea of a bit of Joe in the break room, just for your comfort.

“No, I wouldn’t mind it.” you copied his tone, and Joe’s almost-smile turned into a beaming one.

“Okay, one second.” Joe said, slapping the doorframe as he passed through it, and you heard how he rushed his steps.

“Not my fault!” you heard Joe call out to Anne.

“Absolutely your fault,” Anne calmly replied.

“Not my mere existence!”

“Just your face then.”

Joe jogged back into the breakroom with a book in hands and pulled out the chair opposite you. He sat down, found his page and gave you a last sneaky little look over your laptop screen.

Then, just like before, he offered you his hand.

His hand.

Joe laid his arm across the table, wrist up, palm open, with fingers just shy of touching your laptop.

You just looked at it a moment.

Joe didn’t need to comfort you the way he had done that day, in the store, when all you could do was think about your grandfather and cry at his memories and the fact that there wouldn’t be new ones made.

A customer hadn’t been very kind to you today about something you felt sensitive about, and over an hour had passed already. You were fine.

But the gesture was sweet. Joe offered his hand for holding and even though it wasn’t needed, necessarily, it was still a nice gesture.

Kind.

Joe was so sweet. So kind. Soft and gentle and lovely.

You remembered how nice the distraction of playing fingers had been. How it had calmed you down enough for you to reveal the source of your hurt that day.

“Come on,” Joe then softly said, not unkindly, and you made eye-contact for a second. If he wasn’t going to be able to kiss you today, he could still try for the next best thing.

“I want to hold your hand.”

Just like that, it all shifted from a comforting gesture that was meant to soothe you to just a thing Joe wanted for himself. It was a bit silly how that made it easier to give in.

You reached a hand over and let the tips of your fingers touch the warm skin of his palm before they spread out and found a way to hold onto Joe’s closing fingers. They curled together best they could in their position, and when you chanced another glance at Joe, you saw the faintest hint of a smile across his face as his eyes had found his page again.

You got back to your work on your laptop, and whilst it definitely was a lot trickier to work down your to do list with one hand, it was also definitely a lot more gratifying.

You sat in the breakroom together like that until you could hear Anne carry the A-frame into the store, and where before you’d wished the day had just been over already, you kind of wished you’d get at least another five minutes with Joe. All right. Maybe ten.

Joe stayed put until you closed your laptop.

Joe stayed put until you got up to go back out front.

And then Joe stayed put until you walked back into the breakroom to pick up your grandfathers big leather bound book; the one book you’d never sell.

Joe watched you place it back where it belonged.

Back on its shelf where Joe remembered finding it after your grandfather asked him to go fetch him something from up high.

“Thank you.” you said looking down from you position up on a ladder, and Joe just smiled.

“Thank you.” Joe said in return, holding up the book he’d been reading before putting it down on his little ledge where he kept them.

“Thank me.” Anne dryly said, mostly to herself, from where she was doing the till.

“No.” Joe gave Anne the same smile he’d given you, and made you giggle as he said goodbye and left the store with a small wave.

“Thank you Anne,” you made a point to say it, because Anne really had been the star of the show today.

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.”

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[yappingmoxie]

made a birthday post for my grandma yesterday since no one else remembered it and immediately afterwards my sister made one and really drilled in hard about how she named my newest niece after her. and idk. I’m still upset. I’ve been crying off and on about it because like. I know it wasn’t right but my grandma would tell anyone who listened how I was her favorite grandchild (and tbh I think besides it just being true she did that bc she knew how awful my mom and sister were to me) and would brag on me constantly. and my sister did nothing but talk about how annoying my grandma was and say the worst things about her right before she died. but yet she loved her so much that she forgot her birthday 2 years in a row so I mean clearly she just had to take the name I fought with her over during her first pregnancy. I’m so glad I’ve had my cousin throughout all of this because otherwise I’d feel legitimately insane. She’s been amazing at reminding me how much grandma loved me and helping reinforce that grandma and I DID have an agreement that she wanted ME to name my daughter after her if I ever had one. Everything my sister does though feels so spiteful. Like I love my niece so much and it just sucks that I can’t even spend time with her without being reminded of how much my sister wants to hurt me. I don’t blame the baby though. Like it hurts and makes interacting with her a little difficult but she’s innocent. And the thing is I wouldn’t have even minded if she named her that out of genuine love and respect for my grandma but I know she didn’t. From not letting anyone be with my grandma in the hospital when she died to putting her ashes in my fucking mailbox to telling me that my grandma hated me and I didn’t do enough for her to telling me how awful I was for taking a week off to implying I should’ve been there even tho she lied to me about her being in the hospital to withholding photos she promised me of her to ruining my grandmas house (she lets my 5 year old niece write all over the walls and keeps a million fuckin farm animals like ducks and chickens and turkeys inside when grandma didn’t even let dogs in) to asking the preacher at her funeral to say some pointed remarks about me being no contact with my mom to now using her daughters name as a direct slight against me I can’t help but feel like all she wants to do is weaponize my dead grandma against me without even worrying about how disrespectful she’s being to her as long as it hurts me. I haven’t even tried talking to about my nieces name because after confronting her about my grandmas passing I know it’ll do nothing to actually remedy anything and will just lead to even more explosive fights where I know she’ll just double down on saying things she know will hurt me. And I don’t want to argue about my grandma. I don’t want to use her memory for something disrespectful. It doesn’t feel right and doesn’t feel like honoring her in any way that she’d appreciate. I just want her to be respected. I want her name to be used for something kind and loving instead of spiteful. Because ultimately that’s what she was. My kind and loving grandma. Not a tool to cause arguments and tension. She was always the mediator in the family and I can’t help but think how disappointed she’d be to know her passing has been used in the way it has to further drive a shift in the family.

[saintarmand]

IWTV Ask Game

2. How did you find out about or discover it?

i'd seen the movie before and when the trailer came out i thought it looked really good so it was on my radar before it came out. but the reason i actually started watching was that i was disappointed in house of the dragon bc daemon and rhaenyra weren't a toxic enough couple when they actually got together and i wanted to watch some toxic romance. lol

ok long version of the story! (sorry if you don't care about hotd lol)

i was really excited about hotd after the trailers started coming out and like the freak i am, i was especially excited to see the insane uncle/niece incest grooming go from gross to fun when they eventually marry and fight a war and everything goes wrong and they're both crazy and toxic and evil. that's my idea of a good time. this shot from the trailer in particular had me excited for this dynamic:

and the beginning was so promising, their scenes when she's still a teenager played by the younger actress milly alcock are very intriguing! creepy but intriguing.

but then episode 7 happens. i knew ahead of time that the plot of the episode was that daemon's wife has just died and at her funeral he fucks his niece, as you do, and then suddenly rhaenyra's husband also dies and they get married for succession war reasons without permission from her father the king who would fucking hate this. insane sequence of events! and i'd heard that the marriage ceremony was going to be valyrian rites with blood and stuff. for the uninitiated, valyrian refers to the (mostly) lost civilization of blond people who ride dragons and do incest and they're rumored to have done blood magic and stuff. so i had high hopes for this whole valyrian marriage rites scene. a blood sacrifice? some animal or...? an altar with LOTS of blood! their dragons take to the air! they should fuck on the bloody altar while their dragons fuck in the air! either way the visuals will be insane and amazing!

yeah, so the episode airs. and i'm BORED. they made this shit boring somehow. the dialogue is bad and so is the directing. they have a bland conversation about their respective marriages and then have some tepid sex. it just doesn't look like they're that into it even. was that intentional? i cant tell. other more interesting stuff happens and then close to the end of the ep shes like uncle i need you so i can win the eventual war that everyone knows is going to be break out so we should get married. hes like hmm ok. but shes already married so they fake her husband's death so he can sail into the sunset with his boyfriend. toxicity and evilness toned down as much as possible. then they marry and the valyrian ritual is just like. fine. no dragons. they cut their palms so there is blood. if i saw it without prior expectations i'd probably think it was kinda cool but i had built it up in my head to be way cooler so.

in the next episode they kinda just act like a normal couple. despite the whole incest age gap uncle niece grooming shit. i wanted them to be screaming. i am sad about it.

im on tumblr and i see a post with a jacob anderson quote saying iwtv is basically a show about a married couple slamming doors on each other. i'd seen some gifs and ofc i'd seen the trailer months ago but this makes me go !!!!! THIS could be the toxic marriage i was looking for! i go watch it immediately. two episodes have aired so far but it only took me one to fall in love! new obsession unlocked! louis de pointe du lac is my truest love!

at that point im barely able to give half a shit about hotd anymore, i dont even watch the last two eps until days or weeks later. (in the last episode daemon and rhaenyra do get more interesting as they have some tension over him acting like he's in charge even though she's the queen and he's just her consort. he also strangles her a bit when he gets upset, which is very unsurprising from a misogynistic violent man who murdered his first wife (of 3) but some people were shocked. insert iwtv comparison here.) (i've also rewatched hotd with new eyes recently and enjoyed those episodes a lot more when i didnt have my own expectations clouding everything. i WOULD recommend the show for anyone who thinks family drama leading to a literal war feat. dragons sounds like a fun time. it is good and hopefully will be continue to be! also that quote from the showrunner saying daemon wanted to marry his brother and his niece was the closest he could get to was fucking life changing. ryan condal said gay targcest rights. also rhaenicent<3)

anyway iwtv becomes my #1 obsession from episode one and has stayed that way ever since!

iwtv ask game (sorry for mostly talking about a whole different show here lmao)

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 4

Will

Cult girl attends her grandmother's funeral and is approached with a highly unorthodox last will and testament.

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warnings: emotional manipulation and abuse, verbal abuse, death, slight emetophobia, body-shaming, ED mention, pregnancy and family planning

There was no use recounting anything from the leading up to the funeral. You spent that first night wine-drunk, munching on foie gras, watching Arrested Development and diagnosing each character to the best of your psychological abilities. You remembered cry-laughing at the same jokes you had memorized, and reminiscing on all the insane shit your own personal Lucille Bluth pulled on you. That was the highlight of the week. It was all downhill from there. 

Firstly, you were sick. That Sunday, you wrote it off as a hangover. Then, the hangover returned with a vengeance, just to add salt to the already open wound of having to pretend to mourn your abusive grandmother. At least the physical pain would give your acting an air of sincerity, you thought. 

Hannibal dressed in a solid black tux: it was almost uncanny to see him outside of any of his normal checkered suits. You selected a plain black dress and a strand of pearls.

The funeral was to be held at the same country club Anna’s wedding was held. Your grandmother was like a pharaoh, insisting that the empire she built know that even in death, she reigned supreme. The country club was her pyramid. 

Anna asked if you wanted to say a few words. As much as you wanted to get up and tell all her country club friends about the time she reported you as an abducted child at age twenty-two when you refused to leave your boyfriend and move back in with her, you knew that it wasn’t in good taste. You racked your brain for any story that could be considered remotely funeral-appropriate, but none came to mind. 

You spent the entire funeral trying not to roll your eyes too obviously at the stories of abuse her country club friends somehow remembered fondly. Your soul just left your body throughout the entire process and you were unsure if it would ever return. 

All things considered, it could have gone much worse. Then, it did. 

The beginning of the end was when your grandmother’s estate lawyer pulled you and Anna aside to conduct the reading of the will. He showed you to a side room, then excused himself before closing the door behind him. 

“Hello, [F/N].” Liam greeted, trying to cut through the awkward silence that came with first seeing each other after four straight years. “I’m very sorry about your gran. She was a great woman.” 

You gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thanks, Lee. I appreciate it.” 

“No she doesn’t.” Anna muttered. “And it’s Liam.” 

“I don’t mind ‘Lee’.” Liam contested. “My mum called me Lee. I actually quite like it.” 

Anna was in one of her ‘I’m so upset, please ask me why’ moods. She sat on one of the heavy armchairs with her legs crossed and eyes to the wall. You weren’t going to bite. 

Liam wasn’t so cautious. “Princess, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” She pouted, not even dignifying her husband with a look. “I just think it’s interesting that I put the funeral together all by myself and someone couldn’t even be bothered to speak.” 

You shot Liam a look that said ‘way to go, jackass’. 

“Yeah,” You said, sitting down in an adjacent armchair. “That must suck.” 

Anna glared at you. “You really have nothing to say? Really?” 

You tensed up. “Let’s see, which charming anecdote would you have me tell? How about that time when she made you wear a fat suit for an hour after you complained about how the low-carb ice cream tasted like chemicals?” 

Liam looked in shock at his wife. “Did she really?” 

“Once.” Anna confessed, holding up one finger. 

You turned to Liam, as if you were sharing some hot gossip. “That was all it took to give her an eating disorder when she was thirteen.” 

Hannibal was just a fly on the wall. Anna noticed his lack of reaction. 

“And I bet Hannibal knows all about this, huh?” Anna said, throwing her hand in his direction. “Because he just needs to hear all of our private family business, right?” 

You stood up from your seat. “First of all, I take offense at the implication that my fiancée isn’t family.” 

An evil smile spread on Anna’s face. “But he wasn’t always your fiancé, was he, [F/N]?” 

“Holy shit, you cracked the code.” You said, flatly. “There was a point in time when Hannibal and I weren’t an item. Real shocker, that one.” 

“You know what I mean.” She sneered, then approached Hannibal. “Dr. Lecter, is it true that before you and [F/N] became romantically involved, you were her therapist?” 

Liam looked scandalized. Hannibal was just as put-together as always. 

“That is true.” He said, feeling no shame whatsoever. 

Anna turned back to you. “Now don’t you think that’s just a smidge unethical? For a therapist to date their much younger patient?” 

You narrowed your eyes. You carried yourself with the lightness of a woman who finally had the moral high ground. “So you want to talk about what’s ethical, huh? I suppose that means you’ve told Liam about pineapple.”

All the blood drained from her face. You crossed your arms and held your head up a little higher. 

“That’s what I thought.” You grinned. 

“Look, could we just pretend to be a normal, functioning family for ten minutes?” Anna pleaded, as if there were anyone other than herself to blame for provoking an argument.

“That’s on you two.” Liam, rightfully, pointed out. He gestured to himself and then to Hannibal. “Neither of us have said anything.” 

The estate lawyer must have gotten his juris doctorate alongside a master's in impeccable fucking timing, because that was when he decided to make his entrance.

"I'm sorry for the wait, everyone." He announced. "And I'm sorry for having to pull you aside in your hour of mourning. Usually the last will and testament is handled through email to the beneficiaries, but your grandmother was quite adamant it be approached this way."

"That definitely sounds like her." You said, exchanging glances with Hannibal. You'd talked about this for what felt like hours the week prior. She was going to pull some last-minute bullshit to humiliate you from beyond the grave. Give all the inheritance to Anna and leave a snide comment about you in a legal document. You knew it was coming. All you could hope was for it to be quick.

The lawyer pulled an envelope from his briefcase. "She specifically asked for her two living grandchildren and their significant others to be present."

"Did she say it like that?" Anna raised an eyebrow. "Or was it more like, 'Anna and her husband, and [F/N] and her therapist'?"

"Mrs. Young," Hannibal said, taking your hand. "Until you tell your husband about pineapple, you aren't allowed to judge us."

Anna glared at you. "What the hell? He knows, too?!"

"Yeah." You answered. "I tell him everything."

"Okay, who or what is pineapple?" Liam interjected. "And why do I get the feeling I'm the only one not in the know, here?"

"That's cause you are." You confirmed. "And you have your lovely wife to thank for that."

"Everyone!" The lawyer called out. Clearly, he'd seen his share of dysfunctional families. "Please, let me just read the will and you can continue arguing afterwards."

"Y'know what? Fair enough." You said, crossing your legs. "Let's rip off this band-aid, shall we?"

The lawyer opened the envelope and produced a single page. He cleared his throat.

"I, Beatrice [L/N], being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath all my worldly possessions-" He began reading the long first sentence. "Including but not limited to, a collective sum of $45 million, the family home and my shares of the country club, to the first of my granddaughters to give birth."

You expected nothing. You expected something. But you never could have expected this.

"Can you please read that last part again?" You asked, unsure if what you heard was the result of a stroke.

"The entire inheritance goes to the first one of you to have a baby." The lawyer clarified, trying to make it sound like a reasonable arrangement.

"That makes sense." Anna said, nodding.

You looked at her, dumbfounded. "How in the fuck on fire does that make sense to you?"

"Well, the money would be going to a good cause." She rationalized. "To raise the baby, right?"

You shook your head. "No, this is insane. Grandma has always had this weird obsession with bloodlines, and now she's trying to incentivize us to carry it out."

"What happens if neither of us can, y'know?" Anna asked.

The lawyer pushed his glasses up his nose. "If neither granddaughter is willing to produce a child, the entire inheritance will go to the Eagle Forum, so my ungrateful grandchildren can learn about family values."

"She hated the Eagle Forum!" Anna objected. "She wouldn't dare."

"She absolutely would." You pressed your fingers into your forehead. "That's upper-class white moderates for you. And she doesn't have to be around to see when they name a fucking wing after her."

"The Beatrice [L/N] center for denying women bodily autonomy." Hannibal said. "It's quite fitting."

"[F/N], we can't let that happen." Anna pleaded. "We can't let Eagle Forum get a penny of that money."

"Why the hell not?" You said. Though on principle, you agreed, you knew this was just another one of your grandmother's power grabs. At the end of the day, she chose to leave her money to the Eagle Forum. And it would be her name on that check, not yours.

"Oh my god, you actually hate babies more than you hate conservatives." Anna stood with her mouth agape.

"Don't put words in my mouth." You snapped. "I don't hate babies. I hate grandma for trying to threaten me into having one. I hate grandma for pinning us against each other and making sure it stays that way."

"What do you have against giving me a little niece or nephew, huh?" Anna folded her arms.

"I'm fucking done." You said, throwing up your hands. "This will be the last you ever see of me."

Of course, that's what you said the last time.

[platonicavengers]

headcanons for being the youngest maximoff (part two)

pairings: maximoff twins x sibling!gn!reader && avengers x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers for infinity war + endgame, death, non-descriptive violence, idk

author’s note: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO COME OUT AAAAAAAA it was supposed to be up a while ago but things got in the way and im so sorry :(

tags: @madamevirgo​  @euphoniumpets​

headcanons under the cut !

so

after steve broke everyone out of the raft you were all on the run for a while

vision and natasha joined you all at some point, and scott and clint returned home to their families

after a while wanda and vision decided to stay in scotland, leaving you with sam, nat, and steve

you were not a huge fan of the idea of leaving her behind

you had already lost your parents and pietro and even though she wasn’t dead you still wouldn’t be able to see her

but you knew why she did what she did

fast forward a little bit

you find out that tony went missing

and then that wanda and vision are being attacked

so u all fly to scotland to help them

*insert u being a badass and beating the shit out of an alien*

finally reuniting w your sister

there were tears

when you arrived back at the compound it was like a breath of fresh air after so long

it’s a shame you weren’t there under better circumstances

immediately getting upset when you saw the hologram of ross

that motherfucker

anyways

going to wakanda was an.... interesting experience

you wanted to enjoy it 

but considering why you were there,,,,,,

it was kinda hard to enjoy it lol

wanda ofc stayed up in the lab with vision and shuri

she wanted you to stay up there as well so she could keep an eye on you

she was very hesitant to let you go into the front lines of the battle

even though you were an adult now you were still her little sibling and she was worried for you

you assured her that you would be fine though

fine might be pushing it but

let’s be realistic here

you kicked some alien ass down there

taking out enemy after enemy with no hesitation

pretty impressive tbh. ur fucking awesome

ily

anyways

eventually wanda came down to join the battle

the two of you fought alongside each other

badass sibling duo ugh yes

but then

you had to go against thanos himself

ugly ass mf

you tried to use your magic to remove his gauntlet

you were unsuccessful

he kinda tossed you to the side like a rag doll

which hurt like a bitch

when he snapped you had no idea what tf to do

i mean you had just lost, what were you supposed to do?

you were in the middle of crawling over to wanda, wanting to try to comfort her over the loss of vision

but then she just kinda, disintegrated?

you were in shock for a minute

but then it hit you

“no, no, no, no, no...”

you started sobbing

now you had officially lost your whole family

after a little bit you made your way over to what was left of the team

you all kinda stood in silence for a little while, just processing everything that had happened

eventually you all returned to the quinjet and flew back home

for the first two-ish weeks after the snap you just locked yourself in your room and refused to leave

though eventually you did leave your room again, though very reluctantly

after three weeks had passed by carol, who you were quite fascinated by, returned to the compound carrying a spaceship with her

turns out tony was on said ship

you were glad to see him after so long

and now we jump to going to space to beat thanos’ ass (a g a i n)

you had never been to space before so it was quite a new experience

shame it was under such poor circumstances

when you arrived at thanos’ residence you were out for blood

he took your last remaining family and you were not in the mood to let him get away with it

and then you found out the stones were gone

and everything he had done couldn’t or so you thought be reversed

you were already ready to kill thanos before, but especially now that that was revealed

sadly though, thor took the responsibility of killing the titan himself

*5 years later*

you were 23 now

a whole ass adult

you still lived at the compound with natasha, not exactly having anywhere else to go

not like you would’ve left anyways but

nat had become your sort of support system over the last few years

after all, at this point you really only had each other

all of the rest of the remaining team went their separate ways, none of which deciding to stay with the two of you

one day though steve comes by

you were glad to see him, you had missed him a lot since he left

the three of you had a not-so-positive conversation and then out of nowhere scott appears at the front gate

he tells you his insane idea of using the quantum realm to time travel back to before thanos

you were very wary

you didn’t exactly have a lot of knowledge on the quantum realm but you could still tell that it seemed risky

the four of you went to tony’s house to try to convince him

he almost immediately said no

yikes

you all tried to convince him but to no avail

so you went to bruce hulk instead

bruce?? hulk?? who tf is he tbh

but anywho

when you saw him you were kinda like ????????

but chose to ignore it

you got him to agree to the time travel thing

and it was ?somewhat? successful

somewhat is pushing it tbh

scott became a baby which wasn’t great

but then tony showed up and fixed it like the genius he is

you helped recruit all the remaining avengers to help w the whole time travel thing

you were going to go back in time and get the stones before thanos could

you went with clint and natasha to vormir

you thought it made the most sense for you to sacrifice yourself

after all you weren’t even positive this whole thing with the stones would work, and you couldn’t risk continuing to live a life without wanda and the rest of the team

they stopped you before you could jump though

when natasha dropped you swore your heart stopped beating

she had been all you had for the past 5 years and then she was just gone

you ended up getting the soul stone but at what cost

you and clint returned to the compound and there was a small ‘memorial’ (for lack of a better word) for natasha

after that tony put all of the stones together into a makeshift gauntlet

after a little bit of deliberation it was decided that bruce would be the one to snap his fingers

bruce, hulk, whatever tf

brulk

LMFAO

sorry back to the headcanons LOL

he snapped

immediately everything felt different

you went out to look out a window, seeing a few butterflies fluttering around that you knew weren’t there before

a smile immediately took over ur face

“hey guys, i think it worked!” - you

you were about to turn around and walk back to everyone else

but then

you saw a large ship in the distance

and something began flying toward the compound

and then everything went dark

when you woke up again you were buried under a bunch of rubble

which bruce picked up off of you

you ran out to where thor, tony, and steve were

you saw thanos and froze

they were engaged in a battle and you tried to keep your distance in order to collect yourself for a moment

which proved to be futile because you were dragged into the fight not long after

you kinda got your ass handed to you

it wasn’t pretty

you were lying on the ground when all of a sudden you saw orange light surrounding you

you looked up to see portals opening, all your allies who you had thought to be dead stepping out

you saw wanda and you stopped breathing for a moment

you got up as quick as you could

which proved to be difficult due to ur injuries and overall extreme fatigue

you launched yourself at her, bringing her into the tightest hug you could muster

the two of you held onto each other for a moment before you had to return to fighting

maximoff sibling teamup part 2???? yeah most definitely 

fast forward to after thanos and his bitch ass army lost (im sorry i just really dont have the energy to write all that rn)

and to after tony’s funeral 

you and wanda had a l o t of catching up to do

like

5 years worth LOL

u had to comfort her over vision’s death a lot

considering that to her, that was still only a couple days ago

and a lot of the time when you two talked the mood was kinda depressing, all things considered

but you still tried to keep it lighthearted

for example

your absolute favorite thing in the world was the fact that you were now older than her due to the snap, 3 years older to be exact

you held it over her all the time, constantly making fun of her for it

all in good fun of course

something wanda really loved was when you would tell her stories from when she was in the soul world (only happy ones ofc)

though it made her sad that you had to go so long without her, and she missed out on so much

she wanted to know what she had missed

all in all

you two were incredibly close, the snap and its aftermath only further confirming that

sibling goals tbh

a/n #2: aaaaaa im sorry to end it on that note (i didnt know how to end it im sorry asf) but yeah </3 and once again, so sorry this took me so long to post, ive been super busy with school && life in general so i just havent gotten around to it :( butttttttttttt if u guys want i could try to continue this series of headcanons for wandavision?? i’d wait until friday ofc for the final episode and id spoiler tag it and everything but i could try my best? might be kinda difficult but i think it could be fun so if anyone wants that then lmk!! :)

[thegraystreaks]

i just read your fics on ao3 and they were so good, i love missing moments from canon! Idk if you ever take prompts but if you do i would really love to read a different way for percabeth to get together in canon?

anon, the way you got me to write something for the first time in ages….

anyway this is super self indulgent but I had a lot of fun writing it!! thank u for your kinds words I would die for you probably!!

this takes place during botl, the day Percy comes back from Ogygia, sometime after Annabeth storms out of the Big House.

-

“Annabeth glared at me. You are the single most annoying person I’ve ever met!” And she stormed out of the room.

I stared at the doorway. I felt like hitting something. “So much for being the bravest friend she’s ever had.”

-

He finds Annabeth in the arena. It’s empty save for her — everyone knows by now that sparring with her while she’s like this never leads to anything good. So she’s taking on a dummy, her anger apparent in the rigid lines of her body, fury in the force behind her blows. She rolls and kicks, dodging imaginary attacks, and Percy could swear that the air is thick, charged, like the feeling before a thunderstorm. Which is stupid — it’s camp, and the magical borders keep the sky cloudless as always. 

As he approaches, the only acknowledgement of his presence is her intensified rage, the way her blade slashes and hacks with renewed vigor. They’re gonna need to replace that dummy, he thinks.

“Can we talk?”

She wheels to face him, thunder in her eyes. For a moment, he’s scared he’ll need to pull out Riptide. She turns to the dummy one last time and stabs it straight through the heart. “You wanna talk? Then go ahead.”

He swallows nervously. Now that he’s got her attention, he doesn’t quite know where to start. His mind flashes to last winter, and how distraught he was when she had been kidnapped. How he’d have done anything to get her back. How he just knew that she couldn’t be dead. He reaches out hesitantly, but pulls his arm back when he glances at the hilt of the blade, still sticking out of the dummy. 

“I was thinking about how upset I was last winter, when you were kidnapped. That, um — well, ‘sucked’ doesn’t really cover it. That was awful. I really am sorry that I worried you.”

Something shifts in her eyes, and he can see the hurt dripping through the cracks of her anger.  “You couldn’t send an Iris Message? I thought you were dead, Percy.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Drachmas were a bit hard to come by on the island.”

“Ha,” she laughs drily. She pauses to wipe at the sweat on her brow. “What was she like?” The words drip with contempt.

“I don’t — who?”

“Don’t play dumb,” she scoffs. “Calypso. What was she like?”

Air rushes out of Percy’s lungs. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Chiron was right, then. She had figured out where he’d been. 

“Does it matter?”

“Well, you spent two full weeks there, so I can’t imagine she looks like the ancient hag she is. How old is she again? Two-thousand? Or is it three?”

“Annabeth—”

“Two weeks, Percy!” she cries.

“I’m sorry, okay? Time was weird there!” 

“Oh, time was weird, that’s your excuse?”

“Yeah, that’s my excuse!” he shoots back.  “And I wasn’t just laying on a beach being fed grapes or something, I was recovering! From being blown up!”

That seems to drain some of the fight from her. She looks away, and her voice shrinks down: “I’m sorry you were hurt. I—I hate seeing you hurt.” 

In the silence that follows, he thinks inexplicably of Aphrodite coming to visit him last winter, the limo so out of place in the desert. The way that she had appeared, if only for a second, like the girl in front of him. How she had promised she wouldn’t let his love life be “easy and boring”. Gods, why couldn’t it be? The rest of his life is crazy enough. 

He had hoped, briefly, that Aphrodite might’ve forgotten about her promise when they’d returned to Olympus. He remembers a slow, sad song, and his hands on Annabeth’s waist as they had swayed. How it had felt like the pieces were maybe finally starting to fall into place. The memory seems worlds away.

“Annabeth, listen. I’m sorry I was gone so long. But I didn’t choose to be sent there. And—and I came back.”

“Duh, Percy,” she rolls her eyes. “That’s her curse.”

“Okay, you’re right.” She turns away. He reaches out, more confident now, and takes hold of her arm. “But curse or not, I chose to come back.”

She pulls her arm out of his grip. “Yeah, so that you could tell me I have to bring some mortal girl to lead my quest!”

“What does Rachel have to do with this?”

“Are you fucking serious?” she shouts. He can see the walls building back up, the storm returning in her eyes. She whips around and yanks her dagger out of the sparring dummy, kicking up dirt as she begins to stalk away.

This was not how he wanted this to go, not his intent when he came to find her. Of all the ways returning to camp might’ve gone, he had never imagined it like this. He tries to reconcile the girl that kissed him in the mountain with this one, who can’t go more than a minute without yelling at him, that won’t stop running off. Why is this so complicated? She kissed him, right? Isn’t that supposed to be it? The happy ending? If movies told him anything, it was that the kiss means you get the girl. It shouldn’t be this hard. It wouldn’t be, he thinks bitterly, if she would quit storming off.

“Gods, would you stop running away when we’re talking?” he shouts after her. “Would it kill you to stick around and listen to me?”

He’s taken aback when she actually turns around, arms crossed and foot tapping. “Well?” 

Percy blinks. He hadn’t thought this far ahead. Shit, what is he trying to say? “You know, Calypso offered me immortality. I could’ve escaped the prophecy, I could’ve lived in paradise forever—”

That probably wasn’t what he should’ve led with. “If you want me to ‘stick around and listen’, you’re off to a terrible start,” she seethes.

He steamrolls on anyway: “—but I didn’t, I didn’t take her offer, because — well, because of Grover and Tyson, and the quest isn’t over yet, but also because—” he stops. He’s rambling. Focus. How can he say this? “Did you really kiss me back there, or did I make that up in my head?” 

She freezes. Silence stretches out between them, and Percy kind of wants the ground to swallow him whole. But it’s out there, now. Might as well go all in. “I really hope you did, because I’m gonna feel insanely stupid if it was just some volcanic-explosion-induced fever dream.” 

Slowly, she unfreezes. Nods. “Uh. Yeah, I did.”

He takes a step closer. “I don’t care about ‘some mortal girl’. At least, not the way I care about….about you.” He can feel the blood rushing in his ears, can feel his heart beating painfully fast. She’s still just standing there, staring and staring but not moving. She’s not saying anything, why isn’t she saying anything?

“Gods, can you throw me a bone, Annabeth? I feel like I’m dying here—”

He’s cut off when she lunges forward and kisses him. It’s like their first kiss in two ways: it’s over before he can even react, and it leaves him staring, dumbfounded. How is it that she’s caught him off-guard with this not once, but twice now?

“Think you’ll remember that one was real?” she asks, still only inches from his face. Her breath smells of strawberries, and her eyes are puffy from his almost-funeral, but the storm in them begins to clear. 

He laughs, bright and full. “You should probably kiss me one more time, just to be safe.”

“Hmm,” she considers, arms coming up around his neck. “Should I count down so that you can be ready this time?”

He groans. “You are so not making this easy.”

“I am never, ever going to make things easy for you, Seaweed Brain. Get used to it.”

“Gods, you’re insufferable. It shouldn’t be this cute.”

“Three, two—”

He’s on her before she reaches one, one hand pulling her closer at the waist and the other finding her cheek. When their lips meet, it feels like everything he’s been waiting for. Like the clouds parting, like sunshine, like warmth, like happiness.

It may not be their first kiss, but it’s their best yet.

[thejilyship]

12. Roommate AU

I love jilytober prompts because I don’t need to come up with titles for things. Also, if anyone is looking for a job in which they don’t get paid, I will hire you to name things for me. 

WC- 1.8K

“Listen Red-”

“My name is Lily.” 

“Yes, Red, listen. I know that we put an ad in the paper, but that was to upset the roommate that we had to kick out.” 

“Yeah, it’s still a sore subject, but we hate him now.” 

Lily looked back and forth between the three boys before her and frowned. “Okay, but you put out the ad. And the price for the room is like, the best in the city, and I really need a place to live. Like, yesterday.” 

One of the three had been quiet since she’d walked through the front door and so she looked at him now, wanting to see if she could make headway with him, since the one that kept calling her ‘Red,’ didn’t seem as sympathetic. 

“I mean, it’s not very fair to put an ad out, if you had no intention of even-”

“We can interview you.” The quiet one said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I mean, we do have an empty room after all. Just because we don’t need a roommate-”

“James.” 

“Prongs.” 

“Let’s just think about it.” James said. “We did put the ad out. And she said that she needs a place-”

“James,” The one with sandy hair sighed and shook his head. “It’s always the redheads with you.” He muttered quietly, and so Lily assumed that she wasn’t supposed to have heard that. 

“Please. I have a sob story if you need to hear it.” 

“We’ve all got a sob story, Red.” 

“Yes, but my sob story is currently happening. My mum died a few months ago, and my sister sold our parents house, which I was living in. So I had to find a new place to live. My childhood friend let me move in with him, but I found out yesterday, that not only is he obsessed with me in a yucky kind of way, he’s also a white nationalist. Like he’s in a cult and everything and I can’t stay there anymore. I don’t even want to go back to get the rest of my shit.” 

The three boys looked at her and then at the two bags at her feet.

“That’s all you have now?” The sandy haired one asked. 

“Yes. Well, no. My friend Mary, her parents let me put some family memory type stuff in their garage. I’m glad I hadn’t gotten the chance to bring that to the city yet.” 

“Alright fine. We’ll interview you. But don’t think you’ll be getting any sympathy points from me.” 

“Sirius,” James sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“What?” He looked at Lily and raised a brow. “Are you a tidy roommate?” 

“Yes.” Lily nodded, glad that she’d managed to get her foot in the door. “I always pick up after myself.” 

“Do you cook?” 

“Not for you I won’t.” He cracked a smile. 

“Do you have a job?” 

“I do. It’s a shitty job, but I’m working on it. I have another semester left of school. If I had a better job now though, I wouldn’t be begging you for your extra room.” 

“So a job and school? How often would you actually be here?” 

Lily paused for a moment. “I’m a bit of a homebody to be honest. But I do work thirty hours a week and I’m in class for another sixteen hours. Would you like me to promise to stay away from you? I can do that.” 

“No, I think I’m starting to like you.” Sirius grinned. 

“You’d need to move in tonight then?” James asked. 

“I would,” Lily nodded. “Like I said, I can’t go back there.” 

“We can go for you.” Sirius shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind rattling the pants off of a piece of shit.”

Lily bit her lip and looked down at the ground. She had no doubt that these three men would succeed in intimidating Severus, but she didn’t want them to go there either. “My stuff isn’t even packed up. I appreciate the offer, but what you just suggested sounded a bit like sympathy.” 

Sirius shook his head and the other two laughed. 

“No. Offering to kick the snot out of a racist bastard is simply a hobby of mine. I’m still not sure if I’m going to let you have the room.”

“It’s my house. I’m going to let her have it.” James said. “Remus, are you alright with that?” 

“Excuse me,” Sirius widened his eyes and shook his head. “I’m in the middle of-”

“Yeah. I don’t have a problem with it. Welcome to the club, Lily,” He reached out and offered her his hand. She took it and sighed in relief.

“Okay, thank you, but now I have some questions for you three.” 

“Oh do you,” 

“Yes.” Lily nodded, looking at each of them in the eye. “Are any of you going to murder me?”

“If I was, I wouldn’t tell you.” Sirius grinned. 

“Yes, I know. But my sister said that I had to ask.” 

“I’ve never murdered someone before, so the odds are low.” Remus shrugged. 

“I’ll just say ‘no,’ because I’m not, you know, insane like these two.” James shoved Remus’ shoulder. 

“Alright.” Lily took a deep breath and tried to exhale the weight of the world that she’d been carrying around today. If this had fallen through, she would have had to get on a train and beg Petunia for a few nights on her couch, or just called London a bust and gone to live with Mary in Ireland.

But she wouldn’t have to do that now. 

She was somewhere safe. Probably. They all seemed fairly harmless anyway. 

“I can show you where the room is,” James offered. 

“Am I just supposed to pretend like you two didn’t just get us a new roommate without asking for my vote?” 

Lily had the feeling that Sirius was simply giving them all a hard time, but she folded her arms over her chest and huffed. “Look, Sirius, if you don’t want me here, I’ll leave. I can figure something else out.” She reached for her bag and stood up, pulling the strap over her shoulder. “I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes or-” “Lily,” Sirius looked a bit stricken. “No, I’m an asshole, you’ll get used to it. You can stay.”

She smiled at him. “I know, and now you have to stop complaining about it.” She winked at him and then turned to James, hoisting up her second bag. “Lead the way.” 

Sirius started laughing and James looked plenty amused as well. 

“You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?” James asked as they walked toward the stairs. 

“No more so than he is.” 

James laughed. “Hopefully less trouble than he is. He is a lot of trouble.” 

“Yeah, I kind of guessed that.” 

“I thought I was going to have to yell at him when you grabbed your bag and pretended you were leaving.” 

“All jokes aside, I really do appreciate you all letting me stay here. What did your fourth roommate do to get kicked out?” 

“It wasn’t just one thing.” James shrugged. “But a couple of days ago, he uh-” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Well, it wasn’t actually me that he hurt, so I’ll have to let Sirius and Remus tell you. And they will, because they both want to take every opportunity to bitch him out that they can.” Lily smiled at him and he smiled back before reaching out and pulling a door open. “And here is your new room.” 

It was entirely empty aside from a stripped bed. No furniture, no hangers in the closet, no lamps or rugs or posters. This room looked as though it's been abandoned for a while, not just since the other day.

“I know you just met us and so you’re not comfortable with us helping you out, but when you’re ready, we would like to help you get your stuff back.” 

Lily let one of her bags drop to the ground, the one that didn’t have her laptop in it, and sighed. “Thanks, but I’m not sure that it’s worth it.” Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she knew that it was either Mary, asking if she was alright, or Severus, asking her where she’d gone and when she’d be back. “I didn’t even tell him that I was moving out. I’d rather him not know anything about where I went or who I’m with now.” 

“Was he your b-”

“No.” Lily shook her head. “No, we reconnected at school after my mum passed. But then I found out that he transferred to my school when he found out that I was there. He printed off photos from my social media- I don’t know. I just didn’t feel safe there anymore and Mary told me that if I get murdered because I didn’t trust my instincts then she’s not going to come to my funeral.” James let out a soft laugh. 

“Is Mary your sister?” 

“Yes, but not by blood. Petunia is my actual sister, but we don’t get on well- Why am I telling you all of this? Mary is my best friend and she is also a bint and lives in Ireland.” 

“People tell me things all the time. It must be my charming smile. I put people at ease. It’s how I got stuck with both Sirius and Remus.” 

“You didn’t get stuck with us, you prat.” Sirius came up the stairs and leaned against the wall in the hallway. “I’m the one that’s stuck with you.” 

“My parents adopted him when we were twelve.” James said. “I found Remus at school when I was nine. We’ve been inseparable ever since.” 

Lily nodded. 

“Do you need help unpacking, Red?” 

Lily looked at Sirius, her bags and then the lack of stuff in the room. She laughed and he smiled at her. 

“I’ll go and fetch you some clean linens from the closet.” James offered. 

“And you two made fun of me for putting extra sheets in there!’ Remus shouted from down the stairs. “What do you all want for dinner?” 

“Pizza,” Sirius shouted back. 

“We had pizza yesterday, Sirius.” James reminded him. “Make your lobster mac n’ cheese, Remus!” 

Lily picked up her bag again and moved into the room, setting them down on the bed and then unzipping them. 

“Red?” She looked over at Sirius. “You good with lobster mac?” 

She smiled. “Yeah.” 

“Good.” He turned and walked off. 

James came back with sheets, pillows and a comforter. He helped her get the fitted sheet on the bed before he bowed out and gave her some time to herself as well. 

Things had been shit for a while now. 

But she had the feeling that she’d just lucked into something quite spectacular. 

[kaimelia]

can u write one about last nights episode maybe the kids with links parents and also when they drop the kids off and amelink idk

Handwritten

a/n: hi! i had a bunch of requests to write something after the episode and I hope you enjoy this!

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

"You might want to put on a shirt," Amelia muttered, running her hand over Link's back as she passed. "Your parents are coming in for breakfast in a few minutes."

"Scout spit up all over my shirt. The dude's got an upset stomach today; I've gone through three shirts."

"It's because he keeps eating. Don't give him a bottle every time he cries," she busied herself at the sink, grabbing a plate from last night's dinner. "But seriously, go put on a shirt before your parents walk in and think we were doing something else." He groaned dramatically, dragging his feet as he walked towards the stairs. She shook her head in amusement and laughed to herself.

"Better?" He asked after returning, gesturing to his clean shirt.

"Appropriate for parents," she grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. "Did you have any idea they were coming?"

"Nope. I think my mom knew that if she said anything, I'd try to convince them out of it or give them a fake address." Link picked up stray toys from the living room floor, tidying up the space around him. "You're not mad they're here, right?" She walked over to join him, folding the throw blanket and tossing it over the back of the couch.

"No, I'm actually glad they're here. It's the break we never thought we'd get." Amelia stopped at the sound of a knock on the door, moving faster than Link to answer the door. He followed behind her, his hand settling on the small of her back as the door opened to reveal his parents. "Hi," Amelia greeted, stepping back as they walked through the doorway.

"I hope the kids didn't drive you too insane after we got home," Maureen pulled Amelia into a hug.

"No, they were out like lights as soon as they got home. We literally can't thank you enough for doing that." She greeted Eric before Link led them all into the living room. "I'll go start on some waffles for us?" Amelia suggested, heading into the kitchen.

"Oh, I'll come help!" Maureen eagerly followed behind the neurosurgeon as their partners both laid on the couch. "I love Eric, but being in an RV with him for two weeks straight gets to be a lot." Amelia grinned while pulling the waffle maker out from the cabinet.

"There are too many kids in here for Link and I to get sick of each other. Yesterday was the first time we've actually gotten to spend time with each other since the beginning of the pandemic. It feels like there's always someone who needs our attention." Maureen smiled sympathetically, watching as Amelia mixed ingredients together.

"How's their mom doing?"

"Meredith's awake, which is a total relief. I don't want to get my hopes up or anything, but I have a feeling she'll be coming home soon."

"And she's your sister-in-law, right?" The brunette smiled in affirmation, pouring batter into the machine. "They're great kids, even better in person than on a computer screen."

"It's a little surreal to see you in person," Amelia joked, pulling a plate out of the cabinet. "I got used to the slight distortion from the camera and the occasional freezing when you'd talk. Now your mouth moves in sync with your words. Could you hand me a spatula?  The drawer to your right. Thanks," she placed a waffle onto the plate. Her hands ran through her hair, pressing lightly against her temples. "It's so oddly quiet. You guys really tired the kids out."

"We'd love to do it again sometime. I can't imagine having a newborn while also having to parent your nieces and nephew, all during a pandemic."

"One day at a time," Amelia mumbled. "But, whenever you want to take them, they're all yours. They need some sort of grandparent experience anyway."

"Do they not know their grandparents?"

"Nope," she shook her head. "Both of Meredith's parents are dead, and so is my dad and my mom's across the country. She hasn't visited since my brother's funeral, which was about five years ago. God, I didn't realize it's been that long."

"We'll be surrogate grandparents. Whenever we come to steal Scout, we'll happily take them along. Someone needs to spoil them."

"Oh, trust me, Link does that enough. I constantly have to remind him that donuts and candy aren't for right before dinner," she laughed, plating more waffles.

"Am I allowed to ask if you two are planning on getting married? Link won't tell me anything," Maureen sighed, running her hand across the countertop.

"We've kinda put that on the back burner. We're not in any sort of rush to get married, as much as Zola would like, so we're waiting until things settle down and we feel better about everything going on." Amelia unplugged the waffle maker and washed her hands in the sink. "Why?"

"I always wanted a daughter. And, I know that marriage is really just a legal thing, but it still makes it official." A blush crept onto Amelia's face, and she smiled widely, looking down for a moment. "Sorry, I should've asked; are you comfortable with me calling you my daughter or daughter-in-law? I get a little excited sometimes and don't watch what I'm saying."

"Of course," they both grinned. "You've honestly been more of a mother than my own, so I am more than okay with that." Maureen pulled Amelia into a tight hug.

"I'm not going to freak out right now," she whispered, pulling back. "I'm delighted to have you in the family. And, seeing you with Link makes me think that we didn't totally screw up his view of love or his life."

"Link is pretty much the best person I know. So, I think you did a fine job raising him, for whatever that's worth." Amelia beamed as she looked at the woman in front of her.

"I think you're just as amazing, for whatever that's worth," Maureen rubbed her daughter-in-law's shoulder lightly before grabbing a plate of waffles. "I'm dying to go eat these."

"We can go eat on the couch. Just don't tell Meredith," Amelia mused, grabbing two plates and carrying one to Link.

"Thank you," he whispered, sitting up from the couch. "Did you have a good time with my mom?" Amelia turned to him with a grin on her face and laid her head against his shoulder.

"I really did."

"Remember when you were terrified to meet them?" She rolled her eyes and stuck her fork into a waffle.

"Keep talking, and I'll bring my mother out here. That'll make you shut up." His face fell, and she laughed, shoving a forkful into her mouth. "I'm joking."

"Yeah, until she shows up on our doorstep one day."

"You'd be fine. She'd love you, meeting under normal circumstances where you're not pretending to be my husband, Owen." He shook his head in amusement. "After all, you're probably the sanest of anyone I've introduced to her."

"Probably," he whispered, picking up his own fork. "Very reassuring." Amelia nudged his arm as a laugh fell from her mouth.

"It's pretty hard not to love you."

"Even harder to not love you."

[perfeggso]

I don’t want a lot (Johnny x Reader)

I wrote this as part of @suh-insane’s walking in a winter wonderland collab, so thanks to her for hosting! Happy holidays and I hope y’all enjoy ❄️☺️

Genre: domestic fluff

Characters: Johnny, fem! reader, Ten

Warnings: nothing really just mentions of bad things that have happened this year lol. It’s a very...2020 fic. Also I guess some language. Also, smoking pot.

Rating: teen and up

Length: 3.5k

My movie quote is “They can’t evict you on Christmas! Then you’d be ho-ho-homeless!”

December 18th 2020, 4:37 p.m.

“Knock, knock!” You pound your fist against the wooden door in front of you, then pull your coat tighter around you. You’d moved to Chicago five years ago for college, and you’re still not sure if you’ll ever adjust to the snowy winter months. It was at said college that you met,

“Johnny Suh!” You bang a fist on the door three more times. “I know you’re in there. Take your headphones off, you dumbass.”

You’re about to pull your phone out of your pocket and go to the trouble of removing a glove to text your boyfriend when you hear the door unlock from the inside, a metallic tumbling sound.

When the door opens all the way, Johnny is standing just past the threshold of his apartment, his catlike lips curled up at the edges. He’s wearing grey sweatpants and a blue flannel, and his freshly dyed blond hair falls to where his headphones rest around the base of his neck. You can hear Nirvana coming from them because you are dating a stereotype.

Johnny leans his large frame against the side of the door where he had been holding it and smirks, but there’s nothing but softness behind the expression.

“Long time no see, sicko,” he teases.

You roll your eyes as he moves to let you pass into the entryway of his and Ten’s shoebox dwelling.

“You look even more like a deadbeat than you did a month ago,” you say, not moving because your clothing is starting to drip melting snow onto the floor and you don’t even know where to begin with taking it off. “This is proof you need me around taking care of you.”

Johnny pushes off the door and closes it, pausing his music. He crowds close and starts unwrapping your scarf so you don’t have to think about it anymore, shakes some of the slush off it so it pools at your feet, and hangs it on the coat rack. He does the same with your puffer jacket.

“Aw,” he pouts, “you don’t like the new color?” He tries to remove your beanie too, but it was part of your Outfit, so you yank it back down onto your head and give Johnny puppy dog eyes, choosing to ignore the way your heart rate picks up a little from the proximity. Hey, isolation was rough, okay? Johnny tucks your hair behind your ears instead.

“No, baby,” you say, starting to toe off your snow boots. “I love it. It’s very Disney prince, but simultaneously very… Kurt Cobain.” Johnny smiles and lets you finish stripping your winter gear, walking his way back towards his sofa until he’s sitting, legs wide. Snow falls in flurries past the window behind him. “It’s just that, I dunno, you look like you’ve been spending more time on Reddit or something.” Johnny sulks jokingly at your ribbing as you hang up your purse and try not to fixate on how cold the indoor air still is. “I can tell you haven’t gotten laid in a while,” you continue. “Oh wait! I forgot you have Ten around for that.”

Now it’s Johnny who’s rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t seem too offended because he beckons you over to sit with him. You follow his gesture, skipping towards him until you can curl into his side on the couch. He removes his headphones and lays his head against the crown of yours, taking your hand softly.

“It’s not my fault my girlfriend abandoned me for a month,” he complains, rubbing his thumb over yours.

This makes you chuckle. Oh, how you’ve missed him. “If that’s what you call ‘considerately protecting you from the Novel Coronavirus’,” you joke, “then I guess, but I refuse to apologize for doing my civic duty.”

Your case hadn’t been bad, but it was a logistical nightmare. You’d spent two weeks in total isolation, nursing a cough, guzzling hard alcohol straight to see if you could taste it, sending your best friend out to shop for you, and thanking your lucky stars for having a job that would let you work from home. You’d spent the next two waiting to test negative for the virus and a positive for antibodies. Johnny was initially distraught when you told him, sending you cloying messages and calling everyday to see if your symptoms were getting better or worse. Once you’d convinced him you weren’t dying though, he went back to his usual obnoxious self, joking about planning your funeral and accusing you of faking it to avoid him.

Johnny pulls you tighter into his side. “Whatever,” he concedes. “Is it safe to kiss you yet?”

You look up at him and shrug. “Nothing’s 100% but…”

That’s all the reassurance he needs to pull you into his lap and connect your lips. It's soft and languid, and you hold each other through it. His arms are so solid around your waist it simultaneously makes your heart flutter and makes you feel like you could relax and take a nap right here and now. When you pull away, Johnny runs his hands along your figure, as if to reassure himself you’re really there. The smile he gives you glows, but only for a moment. You curl yourself into the crook of his neck and place the back of your hand on his cheek, tender. His skin there scratches yours just the tiniest bit.

“I missed you,” he says, chuckling.

“Mm-hm, I missed you too,” you reply. “How are you, anyway? You said you had something to tell me?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. He maneuvers you off his lap to sit by his side, and from this angle you can truly tell that he’s going sheepish. Suddenly it feels like there’s an alien hand in your stomach. What could this possibly be about? Johnny’s nervous silence gets your brain spinning – a zoetrope of stupidity. Am I being broken up with? No – obviously not. Does he have a family member dying of COVID? I fucking hope not; that’d be complicated on multiple levels. Maybe it’s good? Maybe he finally got a job offer but he has to move away or something.

Johnny starts talking before your mind can come up with any other ridiculous hypotheses.

“We’re getting evicted.”

You furrow your brow. Had you misheard him? You shake your head, incredulous. Johnny and Ten had always maintained a good relationship with their landlord. It didn’t make sense for everything to turn on a dime, even if they were struggling financially.

“You’re kidding,” is all you manage to say.

Johnny just purses his lips and raises his eyebrows as if to say, “it is what it is.”

What he really says is that he wishes he was kidding, but he’s not.

“Oh my god,” you respond, crossing your arms in irritation at, well, at everything lately. “Fuck! When is this happening?”

Johnny sighs. “Technically in a week.”

You feel the cogs of your post-COVID brain start to crank against each other. A week from today would be…hold on,

“Wait,” you say, as the situation starts to appear more and more ridiculous. “Like exactly a week from today? Like on Christmas? You’re being evicted on literal Christmas?” You’re trying really hard not to raise your voice, even if it’s clear that if you did, it would be out of indignation on Johnny’s behalf. You’re obviously not upset with him.

Johnny’s eyes roll around in their sockets as if this is the first time he’s contemplated the exact timing.

“Well, yeah, I guess a week from today is Christmas…”

The absurdity of this all is getting to you, and you can’t help it, you start to laugh. It’s that kind of nihilistic, fuck-all laughter that’s been one of the few things getting you through this year.

“They can’t evict you on Christmas!” you quote. “Then you’d be ho-ho-homeless!”

Johnny looks at you blankly for a second, so you contort your face into that open expression universally recognized as the “get it?” face.

“From Go?” You hint. “C’mon, Johnny boy.”

And before his nickname can fully escape your mouth, your boyfriend is cutting you off with a long sound of recognition and doubling over his lap in giggles.

“Good one,” he says into his right knee, and you giggle along with him. “Wholly inappropriate, but clever nonetheless.”

“Why, thank you,” you say, enjoying the levity, but unable to uproot the feeling of dread in your gut at Johnny’s conundrum.

Go is one of you and Johnny’s favorite movies to watch around Christmastime, mostly because it’s only tangentially related to Christmas, it’s kitschy and ridiculous, and has a plot that is 90% crime. You’re surprised he didn’t catch the reference more quickly, but to his credit, he has more pressing worries taking up mental space.

“Where is Ten, anyway?” you ask, looking around performatively at the messy and claustrophobic room. A silver plastic Christmas tree twinkles on a table in the corner. “Have you two talked about a plan yet?”

“He’s grocery shopping,” Johnny explains. “He’ll be home soon. And yeah, we have an idea.”

“You do? Because you could always move in with me.”

Johnny scrunches his face up. “I would love to live with you.” Your heart rattles a little in excitement, even though you know there will be a ‘but.’ Johnny goes on, “but you know both of us wouldn’t fit in your apartment. Where would Ten sleep? Or put his stuff? We’d all be on top of each other.”

You nod, defeated because you know he’s right.

“Hey,” Johnny says, “but we can always have the ‘moving in’ conversation again, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing his hand. “Sounds good.”

It suddenly feels very dark in the apartment (it’s still chilly enough you think you might be able to see your breath, but you aren’t about to complain because you know there’s a very good reason for that), so Johnny pushes himself up off the couch to turn on a couple of lamps.

“So,” he says, facing you from across the room, “we’re gonna be evicted on Christmas, no matter what the cinematographic masterpiece that is Go tells us is right or wrong. Christmas is just as much of a capitalist construction as our rent, after all.”

You’re about to pipe up again about how fucked that is and how surely they can come to some sort of agreement with the landlord, but Johnny anticipates this and keeps talking.

“We tried to argue, babe, but as I know you know, we don’t exactly have much of a leg to stand on.”

Johnny is right. Again. How many months behind were they on rent at this point? They’d gotten a few months delayed back in spring, but they still owed everything that built up from that before the end of the year, and they’d blown through their stimulus check a long time ago. Johnny has tried to find work, but the theater business hasn’t exactly been booming. Ten, for his part, is able to make a bit of money doing freelance illustration and teaching dance classes over Zoom from his room, but his studio’s engagement has dropped since March and he still unfortunately gets paid per student. You can’t help wanting to punch a wall in frustration at how unfair this all is, but it’s not like any of it comes as a shock. You’re not naïve. You and Johnny met at a leftist theory club for Christ’s sake.

“We’re helping organize a rent strike,” Johnny says, calming you down. Finally, a glimmer of hope. “We’re not the only ones in the building going through it right now, and we know a lot of the tenants who aren’t being evicted well enough we can convince them to join.”

Right then, the front door flies open and thwacks a startled Johnny in the back.

“I’m home!” Ten calls from behind a sack of groceries. You can’t even see his face yet. “I’m terribly sorry,” he directs at Johnny, then heaves the bag of food onto the kitchen counter which is also sort of in the middle of the living room.

“Ooh,” he coos when he sees you, still sat on the couch. “The missus is back!” He strips himself of his winter coat, ignoring your scoffing and revealing an oversized red and white striped sweater. He shimmies against the cool air and lets out a sort of squeal. “I was not built for this actual winter shit.”

“Hi, Ten,” you say once he finishes his theatrics. “Missed you.”

Ten shoots a sappy pout your way. “I miss you too. I’m so glad you’re feeling better! You have no idea how morose Johnny got without you constantly around. Can I give you a hug?”

You nod and try to warm up Ten’s tiny frame with yours while Johnny mutters something about Ten not knowing what “morose” means. When you break away, Johnny is rifling through the week’s haul to put things away.

“I see you didn’t go off-brand for the ramen,” Johnny remarks, stacking several Shin bowls in the cupboard. He turns to Ten with a raised brow. “Big spender.”

“They didn’t have anything else but if you would answer your damn phone I could have called and asked you about it.”

“I answer my phone,” Johnny grumbles, stowing some orange juice away in the fridge.

“Besides,” Ten continues, ignoring his roommate, “since I’m the only one making any money in this household I figured I’d give myself some discretion for spending it.”

Johnny grimaces, and you figure this is where you should probably step in.

“We were just talking about the rent strike, Ten. Johnny was filling me in.”

Ten turns his attention back to you, letting Johnny house the food items in peace.

“We’ll see how it goes,” says Ten, looking out the window just past your shoulder, “but I’m letting myself hope a little bit. As far as I’m concerned, they’ll be kicking my corpse out of here before they put me on the streets.”

Johnny scoffs. “Always so dramatic.”

“Says the former theater major.”

“Touché.”

You’d missed the ‘old married couple’ dynamic your boyfriend has with his roommate.

“But really, just, please try not to get the cops involved,” you plead. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” says Johnny as he closes the last cabinet and crinkles the brown paper bag up for storage.

Ten shrugs. “No promises.”

You sigh.

Once everything is good and settled a few moments later, Ten decides the apartment needs a more festive atmosphere, so that’s how you end up getting dragged down the short hallway to Johnny’s room while Ten belts Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” from the living room and accuses Johnny of being a scrooge. Even still, Johnny sways playfully from side to side as he walks backwards, shimmying his shoulders and mouthing the words with a smile between protestations that this is “not how I envisioned finally spending time again with my girlfriend!” The way he buries his hands into the sleeves of his flannel to make sweater paws makes your heart so full you want to curl up and die. But, moving on.

Once in his bedroom, Johnny flicks on a warm-hued lamp and watches fondly as you collapse on the bed.

“I really did miss you guys,” you say for what feels like the hundredth time in an hour.

Johnny’s lips press into a little smile. “Yeah. We missed you. A lot. Especially me – you have no idea.”

You laugh sardonically. “Based on your text messages, I think I actually do have an idea.”

Johnny flops down on top of you, crushing you a bit.

“Oh really?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. His golden hair is falling in your face and it tickles, but Johnny halts any laughter with a kiss, then dots tiny kisses all over your cheeks and nose. They tickle too.

“You wanna smoke?”

“Sure.”

Johnny has a pre-rolled joint on his bedside table, and you watch him light it, feeling like you’re in a snow globe with the fall of snowflakes outside. The sky is that weird greyish off-yellow that only comes with a snowy night.

After a couple of hits, Johnny lies back down next to you and hands you the joint. The smoke brings you that usual tight feeling, like your lungs are shrinking but at the same time swimming in radiant heat. You don’t know if you should technically be doing this right after COVID, but you’re young and your body is resilient; you figure you’ll be fine. Besides, you can already feel the pleasant lightness setting in around your mind. It’s a placebo at this point, no doubt, but the relaxed anticipation is nice. You take note of the fact that Johnny had started playing music while you were thinking about lungs. The Strokes’ “Under Control” is doing battle with Ten’s Christmas tunes still seeping in through the cracks in the door.

You hand Johnny his joint back and roll onto your side, supporting your head with one hand and curling the other into Johnny’s abundant hair.

“I just want to say one more time,” you begin, “if worse comes to worst, you can always move in with me.”

Johnny takes another hit and holds it for a second, leaving you in anticipation.

“I know,” he says simply. “But I really think this’ll work. I have to, right? Besides, if Ten had to hear us fucking multiple times a week we would all start to regret living together. That, I can promise.”

You laugh, burying your increasingly silly-feeling head into Johnny’s chest. “Okay, fair.”

There’s stillness for a few beats where you just count your and Johnny’s breaths, trying to synch them up. This doesn’t work though, since Johnny’s lungs are bigger. Then,

“There’s no way your parents would lend you some money?” Your voice comes out quiet. “Or let you stay with them for a while?”

Johnny looks down at you, letting out a heavy sigh. “No, no. That wouldn’t be a good idea for…so many reasons. Besides, they don’t exactly have an extra few months worth of Chicago rent lying around either.”

You nod against Johnny’s chest. “I figured,” you say. “Just checking.”

Johnny brushes his fingers through your hair and kisses your part. “I appreciate your concern,” he says, offering a slightly sly smile.

You kiss the white fabric of his undershirt. It’s been so long since the two of you just laid together, and it feels better than you could have hoped, Johnny’s body heat helping to alleviate some of the cold of an apartment gradually losing its utilities. You wish you could get closer than chest to chest. You kind of wish you could burrow into him, but not in a weird way, you know?

“I believe in you guys,” you say. “However I can help, I will.”

“Thanks.”

Apparently, Johnny is done with talking, because he pulls you in for a warm kiss. Then, he gets the brilliant idea to shotgun the pot smoke. This activity quickly devolves into a very giggly makeout session, only to be interrupted by Ten’s voice outside the door.

“I’m opening the door in five seconds, you guys,” he says, “and if Johnny’s dick is out when I get in there, I’m evicting both of you myself!”

You and Johnny fall together laughing as Ten cautiously cracks the door. He swats at the air in disapproval.

“Stinks…” he remarks. “Oh, thank god you’re decent. Anyway, John, if the lady is staying for the evening, you both need to come help cook dinner, because I am not your housemaid, even if I do look good in a maid costume. Chop-chop.”

It takes way too long to get up out of bed because Ten, as usual, has made both you and Johnny absolutely lose it. Eventually, you manage to rise, but Johnny pulls you quickly back against his lap.

“Hey!”

“Just a minute.” He presses one last kiss under your left ear. “I love you.”

You can feel your skin tingle, although it might just be the weed. Either way, you’ll never tire of hearing that. “I love you too, Johnny.”

“I think Mariah was right,” Johnny whispers, voice displaying mock awe as if he were coming to a mind blowing realization. “All I want for Christmas is you.”

You give him a sympathy chuckle because that was kind of cute, in a corny way, and Johnny just swats your ass a little in response to get you back up to standing.

“Well, you and some basic shelter would be ideal,” Johnny deadpans. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask but I guess we’ll see.” You smile sympathetically. This strike is no doubt going to make for a stressful week, but you’re glad it’s starting like this.

“Hey, love birds!” Ten hollers from the kitchen.

“C’mon,” you say with a laugh. “Let’s not leave him waiting any longer.”

[ithebookhoarder]

Chapter 10:  Four Years Later.  (The Gangster’s Daughter)

Masterlist:

Also available on AO3: 

Warnings: Original Character(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Explicit Language, Gangsters, Period Typical Attitudes, Parent Tommy Shelby, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent.

1919

-------

Time had never gone by so slowly. Ever. Of that, Evie was sure.

Never before, had a second felt so much like a minute, nor a minute felt so much like an hour. It was driving her insane as she sat at the kitchen table, eyes fixed firmly on the clock hanging by the door. The peeler in her hand had long since stopped, as had the two black hands dangling teasingly on the clock face.

“Come on,” Evie whispered. Somehow, she hoped willing it would be enough to hurry time up. To push the hands further round and towards the hour. The hour she’d been waiting so long for. Hell, even Finn and Ada sat beside her, completing their chores in an attempt to distract themselves.

Waiting was not a Shelby strong suit.

Ada yawned, visibly uninterested in the task at hand. She had also given up on her task of de-podding peas. Then again, it wasn’t just impatience to blame for her lack of productivity. The exhaustion was all too clear in Ada’s eyes. She probably had only got back a few hours ago from Freddie’s. Since he’d returned from the war a couple weeks ago they’d been all over each other.

Before the war, they’d been bad enough, beginning to scurry about the streets together on secret dalliances. However, separated by the sea, Ada had been writing him, slipping him letters in the wedge she delivered to the post office on behalf of all of them. Polly, Finn, Evie, Martha and Ada had all written to their family, telling them tales of life in Birmingham without them.

It had felt like a world away from Small Heath. The closest they’d got were the letters frequently dropped to and from France, detailing and describing the carnage and chaos abroad. True, Ada had passionately decided to become a nurse only a few months into the war, to travel and join the fighting in France. However, less than one lesson later, the plan had disintegrated.

It was unfair. Or so Evie had griped. Why couldn’t she train as a nurse even if Ada didn’t want to? Why couldn’t she drop out of school and go help her father and uncles? What use was arithmetic anyway at a time like this?

“You’re still a child,” Polly had explained, trying and failing to pacify her. “War is no place for children.”

“Tell that to the boys my age enlisting, pretending they’re older!”

Polly had sighed, wiping her hands on her apron and lighting another cigarette. “If I could, I would.  I’d like to shake some sense into every bloody man who wants to join this blood soaked shit show. However, I swore I’d look after you and this family until the others come home. You are my responsibility and I will not allow anyone else from this house to risk their lives!”

And that had been that. Evie hadn’t dared raise it again, and luckily for Polly, this whole mess had ended just shy of her being legally old enough to volunteer herself. Otherwise, there would have been a whole other war raging, this time in Small Heath.

However, Polly’s best intentions hadn’t been enough to keep everyone in Small Heath safe until the others returned.

It had only been a matter of months after John had left that Martha had gone into labour with their latest child. He’d been excited by the prospect before he’d gone off to war, boasting about the stories he’d have to tell their child when he returned - and soon, considering the way the government said things were going. It’d be over by Christmas. That was what they said.

In a way it had been; the life they’d all known before had ended and all too abruptly.

It had been less than twenty four hours after giving birth to a beautiful baby boy that Martha began to feel unwell. What had at first been a minor fever and headache had quickly turned into something far more sinister.

In a matter of a week she had succumbed to what was later realised to be a sudden wave of fever in the city, leaving her three children parentless and in the care of the remaining Shelbys. Of course, John was informed via letter and the funeral held swiftly.

Evie didn’t know what to think. It had been enough to rattle them all. So much so, there had been an uneasy truce in the house ever since. No one upset the others, knowing that they only had each other to care for them. They had to stick together. Not just then but always. Who knew if the others were coming back, after all.

All they could count on were the people in that house on Watery Lane and the community that flocked around them in their time of need. For example, Evie lost track of the people who offered to watch her cousins or brought them food they’d made. Most of them had been women who’d come to take their husband’s place at the betting shop.

Together, they had muddled through, their own little community.  

Years had passed since then and life had carried on. Until a mere month ago, when the announcement had been made. The war was over. The boys would be coming home.

Now the day was finally here and Evie felt like she could explode with anxiety and anticipation. It was why, as soon as the clock hit the designated hour she was gone.

She didn’t look back, despite hearing the sound her name bellowing behind her as she burst out the door and into the street. Ada, Finn and Polly could stay and prepare lunch if they wanted, but Evie couldn’t wait a damn second more as she sprinted through the street like a wild stallion.

Her eyes remained fixed firmly on the horizon, aiming for the giant brickwork building ahead. The rising plumes of steam and roar of voices were all a blur to her, a blur confirming she was in the right place as she barged past porters and taxis.

Birmingham Train station.

Weeks they’d been stuck in France, waiting for a ride home but they were here now. Arriving on the morning train, just as her father had promised they would be.

So close. They were so close.

Evie didn’t stop until she was on the very platform, eyes focused on the shining train that had drawn to a halt.

A great whine of gears. The brakes hissed. Then the doors opened.

Four years she’d waited for this. Four agonising years, filled with agony that no letter or prayer could fill. Until she saw them there, in person, for herself, she wouldn’t believe it was true - the war was finally over.

Doors began to open and men in uniforms descended in droves, bags and hats flying. The tears, cheers, and fears erupted in a mass symphony of life as people began to run, merging passengers and onlookers in one ocean of bodies.

Evie didn’t know which way was up. She’d never been the tallest of people and she was once again regretting her shorter stature as she jumped up and down on her tiptoes. Her eyes kept darting frantically around the place.

They had to be here somewhere. She could feel it in her bones…

Then she saw them. Well, she saw Arthur to be precise, jumping down from one of the carriages before making way for John. He’d always been hard to miss, more so with his overgrown moustache and loud cheers of relief to be back on Birmingham soil.

“Uncle Arthur! John!” she screamed, hurrying frantically toward them. They barely had time to turn before she was on them, flinging her arms about their necks and peppering their cheeks with kisses. To hell with the Shelby aversion to public displays, Evie was too damned overwhelmed to care. The laughs and hugs she received in return proved they didn’t care either.

“God damn, you grew,” Arthur scoffed, spinning her round and laughing as he took her in. Four years was indeed a long time for anybody, and Evie’s teenage body definitely betrayed the separation, almost like the lines on his forehead did him. “Just get a look at you. Some welcome wagon. Aren’t we lucky bastards.”

“The others are back home waiting. They can’t wait to see you all, the famed heroes.”

“I bet they are,” John grinned, taking his own turn to hug his niece. “I’d kill for a slice of Pol’s gin cake right about now. I’ve only had a bleeding sandwich all day.”

“Hopefully, John you’ll never have to kill for anything again.”

That was the voice that shattered any composure Evie had been holding on to as she turned.

“Dad?” she whispered. “Is it… is it you?”

He nodded. “I promised I’d come back, ey?”

The tears were strong as she staggered into his arms. Her legs threatened to go from beneath her as she tried to control the tidal wave of emotion that flooded through her. She simply let him cradle her to his chest, the itchy wool of his uniform pressed against her cheek.

She didn’t even care. It was merely more proof that this moment was real. It wasn’t a dream or some fantasy. It was real and solid and here. It was everything she’d hoped it would be and more. After all, she hadn’t dared hope they’d all look so in tact, so healthy compared to the previous train loads of injured and sick soldiers that had been pouring into the city for months now.

Yet, here they stood. Barely a scratch on them - just like their letters had said.  

“I told you,” her father breathed, as if sensing her thoughts. “I keep my promises.”

“I know,” Evie sobbed. “I knew you would. You all would. I just… it’s been so long waiting for this moment and now that you’re all here I… I…”

“We know,” John muttered sympathetically. The thin sheen in his eyes told them he knew exactly how she was feeling.

It all felt too good to be true. Any moment she felt as if she’d wake up and this would fade away like sand slipping between her fingers. It was why she was reluctant to release her grip on him, on her father, and let him grab the remainder of his belongings.

“Come on,” Arthur coaxed, clearing his throat in an attempt to prevent himself from being caught further in the emotional reunion. It wouldn’t do for Arthur Shelby to be seen weeping in public now. He may have been in France, but he still had a reputation to uphold. “Let’s get moving, eh? I need a fucking drink.”

“You and me both, brother,” Tommy laughed. “You and me both.”

-----------

The rest of the day passed in a wondrous blur.

From the moment they’d stepped foot back into Watery Lane it was as if the whole world had brightened. The sun escaped the cloud cover that had been masking it all day and the smiles on peoples faces were effervescent as they greeted the returning heroes.

Finn, Ada, John’s children, and Polly were all quick to throw their arms around the boys and sob with relief.

“You’re home. You’re really home,” Polly choked, kissing each over and over again until they were thoroughly smothered in her lip rouge. “Thank God.”

“We’re home and here to stay,” John grinned, scooping up his newest child into his arms. Only three, he was the very spitting image of his father. “Isn’t that right, son? Your old man’s home.”

The toddler whined but seemed to understand, pawing at John’s face as if sensing the tears John was doing very well to hide. It broke Evie’s heart, knowing how much Martha would have wanted to see this moment, as delayed as it was. Still, she hoped Martha was watching, wherever she was.

“Come on then, you’re probably famished,” Polly cooed, wiping her own eyes. Arthur had taken one look at the awaiting feast laid out on the kitchen table and cheered. It was only Polly that prevented them from tucking in right away. Instead, they’d all hurried upstairs to wash up, change, and join them back downstairs in time for lunch as per their aunt’s orders.

“You’re no longer in France,” Polly had chuckled. “I’m your commanding officer now. What I say goes.”

“Sir, yes, Sir!” Arthur scoffed, saluting her. Still, he knew better than to argue. It would be shit luck to have survived a war, only to come home and be murdered by Polly Gray. It was why he tried alternative tactics. Tactics that involved opening a bottle of champagne and hurling toasts left, right, and centre.

For all her posturing, Polly eased with every sip of champagne. Everyone was too happy to care about anything other than each other and rejoicing at the domestic scene. For example, no one said anything as Evie had a second glass of champagne, cheering as she watched the room. The laughter was like nothing she’d heard since the day they’d all left, accompanied by the soft hum of the gramophone.

Whatever song was playing though, was drowned out beneath the voices and a particularly bawdy song coming from John. Finn was joining in, much to his delight. Where he’d learned the lyrics, Evie couldn’t be sure. Had Polly been sober she probably would have. She’d most likely have put a stop to it too, rather than joining in.

Before long, the party had decide to migrate elsewhere.

“To the Garrison boys!” Arthur bellowed, met with a raucous cheer of approval.

“Come on,” Tommy smirked, offering Evie his arm as she rose from the table. “I think we can celebrate for one night. Even Pol can forget about a bedtime on a day like this.”

Considering she was already half way out the door, Evie suspected her dad could be right. And so it was, they spent the evening surrounded by an ocean of smiling drunken faces.

Evie danced with anyone who asked, laughing all the while as she twirled, letting the world dissolve into a jubilant haze. She felt euphoric - and that had nothing to do with the several large champagnes she’d thrown back.

It had more to do with the realisation that this was real, and not one of the many dreams she’d woken from, heartbroken, the last four years. Every face, once familiar but now a surprise, were real. She could reach out and touch them and they wouldn’t disappear in a puff of smoke.

Maybe that was why she jumped as she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. A hand she’d recognise anywhere as her father grinned down at her.

“Dance for your old man?”

Evie laughed, eyebrows raising. “I thought you didn’t dance?”

“On the rare occasion I make an exception - mi’ lady.”

The sight of Tommy Shelby lowering in a mock bow, hand extended was enough to make tears of laughter prick at the corner of Evie’s eyes.

“Sir,” she smirked, struggling not to laugh as he pulled her into a rather good interpretation of a hold. Almost immediately they were swaying around the floor, laughing as they trod on each other’s toes and span about to the lively music. It was as if they were one of the couples she’d seen at the pictures, the whole world revolving around them.

Once upon a time, she’d been small enough that she’d stood on his toes when doing this. He’d held her against his chest, her grinning upwards. Now, though, she was tall enough to almost meet his eye. She could stand on her own two feet. She could dance just as well as he, even if she allowed him to lead.

Four years really was a long time. If she’d asked, Tommy would have told her such. As, for every new line or crease she saw on her father’s face, he saw an equally grown woman where a child had once stood.

For a moment as he’d got off that train, he’d thought Rebecca herself had come to greet him…

“Come on.”

“Tommy Shelby. No.”

“I’ve got you.”

“No. You’ll drop me,” Evie laughed, holding on for dear life as her father dipped her backwards, tilting her toward the floor before hauling her back upright in a well rehearsed motion.  

Tommy just grinned. “See? I’ll never drop you.”

“One more drink and you would have!”

“Never,” he dismissed, laughing with her as the song came to an end. It was swiftly replaced with another. Most people didn’t even notice as they carried on dancing. “Another?”

“Why not?” Evie shrugged, already resuming their hold as she started to dance to the beat. It would take an act of God to interrupt her stride. “Otherwise Arthur’ll ask me again and I’m still recovering from the last dance.”

“I’m sure you are!”

----------

There was nothing overly spectacular about that party that night, not in comparison to the hundreds of other parties occurring across the country. Yet, it raged deep into the night and deep into the hearts of everyone there. For years after, they’d refer to this night with fond remembrance … well, those sober enough to remember it. Not everyone was in great condition come morning.

Evie herself had staggered into a chair at some point during the early morning, struggling to fight the oncoming exhaustion. Dancing all night had done her in. One yawn and she felt herself curl into the edge of the booth she’d chosen, letting sleep wash over her in waves.

She didn’t even realise she’d fallen asleep, not until she felt herself being scooped into someone’s arms some time later.

“Come on, let’s have you.”

She didn’t even need to open her eyes to know her father was responsible as he began to carry her towards the door and the early morning beyond it.

“You’ll be comfier at home, and Pol will gut me if I leave you on that chair any longer,” he continued softly, chuckling as he did. She could feel the way his chest vibrated with it; happiness.

“I’m glad you’re back, Gather,” Evie muttered, but she knew he’d heard her attempt.

“Me too, Chavi. Me too.” She hardly heard him speak in the ‘gypsy tongue’, or so Polly often called it when she was reading tea leaves or cursing about something. It was a soft sound, one that made her smile. “You’re almost too big for this now. It’s like carrying Arthur.”

Evie sniggered but yawned, choosing not to protest. She was just too damn happy to even try. Her family was back together again in one piece, and she knew when she awoke later that nothing could change that.

The Shelbys were home.

[roguerogerss]

Sorry is a Sorry Word

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Plot: Steve fucked up - bad. He doesn’t really know how, or if, he should say sorry, until Dustin gives him a pep talk.

W/C: 3.1k

A/N: Just now realising how long this is oops, sorry. My first Stranger Things fic! Finally. (watch this flop so hard lmao) Remember to like and reblog if you enjoy! It really helps me out. As always, requests are open and any and all feedback is appreciated <3

————

"Dustin, Please, just leave me alone." She lay back on her bed, tears streaming down her face and hair amiss from where she'd run her fingers through it. "I'm fine, I just...give me some time."

"But, we tell eachother everything." Her little brother sounded so small and defeated that it almost broke her heart in two. She could hear him leaning his back against the door, the back of his head thumping dully against the wood a second later. "I feel like we're drifting apart. You don't talk to me anymore."

"Dustin-"

"No, it's okay. Don't worry." Dustin cleared the remnants of his upset from his throat, "We can talk later. I get that you need time."

And with that, he'd left. She could hear his muffled footsteps on the carpeted floor of the hallway, walking away from her bedroom and back to his own. She knew that she wanted to talk to him and vent about all of the happenings of the day, but she couldn't bring herself to let her walls down in front of anyone about her current situation just yet.

It was Steve. And it was bad.

They'd been together for a year and ten months. He'd been there for her through thick and thin. Whenever their mom went MIA, something that happened more often than not, during the days and weeks and months that Y/N was left to take care of her thirteen year old brother on her own with no notice whatsoever, Steve was there. And he'd take Dustin out to the cinema, give him free ice cream, play Dungeons and Dragons with him and his friends - even though Steve had no idea how to play Dungeons and Dragons. He'd sleep over, make her feel like she wasn't alone. It filled her with pride to see him taking Dustin under his wing, more like a dad than even an older brother.

When they lost Hopper, who'd become more of a parental figure than she and Dustin's mom was to her, he was standing by her side at the funeral, hand grasping her own smaller one with force and squeezing it every so often, just to remind her that he was there. He was there after the funeral, too, when they went to the cabin and went through Hopper's things. He was there when she found the birthday present that Hopper had bought for her, a necklace with, 'you're pretty cool, kid', engraved on it. Hopper's way of saying that he loved her. It came with a letter, one that she cried so hard while reading that she couldn't see the words on the page.

The point was, that Steve had been there through everything. And now that they'd had a huge argument over - of all things - Nancy Wheeler, she was unsure of whether or not she'd have Steve to lean on anymore.

It wasn't so much a stupid argument as it was a stupid mistake on Steve's end. He even admitted to himself that what he'd done was more than a dick move. Tina was having a party, a big one, for old time's sake. Y/N wasn't invited, having been socially considered as 'uncool' while in High School, while Steve was invited. He said that it wasn't a big deal, it didn't matter, he wouldn't go.

Except that it was a big deal, it did matter, and, well, he did go.

He'd gotten really drunk, so drunk, in fact, that he had no recollection of the night at all and managed to stumble to Y/N's front door at five in the morning.

He'd told her that he went to the party, that he was sorry. She'd been mad, but she was so tired that she said she'd deal with it in the morning and told Steve to sleep it off on the sofa. Before going to sleep, however, Steve had told Y/N that he 'thought he might've kissed Nancy' that night.

They'd argued about it the next day. She'd dropped him off at home, neither of them speaking at all in the car, and they'd screamed at eachother in Steve's living room. Little did either of them know, Steve hadn't actually kissed Nancy, he was just so drunk that he made himself believe that he had. And then, Y/N told Steve that they were done, and he'd said 'fine', and she'd left and cried in her car for an hour.

And now, she was here. Crying on her bed, little brother probably thinking that one of her friends had died or something.

She hated herself for blowing up and flying off the handle and literally breaking up with Steve. Steve, on the other hand, hated himself for even going to the party, hated himself for - possibly - kissing Nancy, hated himself for going to Y/N's front door and waking her up so early in the morning.

In the grand scheme of things, Steve Harrington had been an asshole. And he was all too aware of it.

It had been around half an hour since she got home when Dustin knocked on the door again. This time, she'd managed to calm down enough to allow him to come inside. She looked horrifying, hair messed up, tear stained face, cuddling a pillow and wearing one of Steve's shirts, but Dustin was her brother, he had no right to judge her.

The door swung open slowly, and Dustin was there, grinning and holding two pints of ice cream, spoons, and some movies. "Thought we could put a movie on and eat. And you can tell me about your problems and I promise I'll listen."

"Is the ice cream cookie dough?" Y/N asked, sniffling, and a watery smile crossed her face. Dustin laughed, happy to see his sister perking up at least a little bit, even if it was over ice cream, and turned the carton to reveal to her that it was, in fact, cookie dough.

"Only the best." He tossed one of the cartons and a spoon at her, and turned on the TV set that sat across from her bed. "Besides, I know it's the only one you'll eat when you're sad."

"You know me entirely too well." She hugged her knees to her chest and dug into her ice cream, relishing in the taste of it for a second, "Oh my God, I haven't had this in so long. And the Scoops cookie dough is so bad."

"Right? I know Steve thinks it's the best, but he is so wrong." Little did Dustin know, one mention of his name would make Y/N's meltdown begin all over again. Soon enough, she was crying hot tears into her ice cream, and she allowed Dustin to lay his head on her shoulder while she explained everything.

"Okay, I have to go somewhere." Dustin knew what he had to do, and Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as he got swiftly up from her bed. "I'll be like, maybe half an hour. But you can eat my ice cream if it starts to melt."

"Dustin! Don't leave me!"

"Watch the movie!"

And then he was gone, and she was by herself, with only some ice cream and E.T. to keep her company.

Meanwhile, Dustin had found Steve at work. He was insanely hungover - although, the headache and sickness had gone away thanks to Robin and her Tylenol, but the tiredness still remained - and reminded Dustin faintly of a particular zombie in Day of the Dead when he walked into Family Video to find him leaning on the counter. The grim look on his face wasn't so much because of the hangover, though, it was more to do with the fact that he and his girlfriend of nearly two years had broken up half an hour ago, and he'd been forced to go to work.

"If you're here to talk to Steve, I wouldn't. He nearly punched me when I asked him if he wanted Tylenol. And I'm a girl." Robin stopped Dustin at the front door, a serious look on her face, but he shrugged her off.

"It's fine. He won't do anything. Besides, I know what this whole thing's about. That's why I'm here." He tried to walk off again, but Robin grabbed his upper arm, tugging him back and making him elaborate.

"Is it Y/N? I think there was a fight between them or something. He’s never looked this rough.” Robin looked concerned, and she was. She’d never seen Steve so upset before. “He was crying when he came in.” She added.

Dustin shrugged, “Yeah, I’m gonna talk to him. He’ll be fine tomorrow.” He decided not to give Robin any more information on the situation in case Y/N or Steve would've gotten mad at him for it.

"Henderson, hey." Steve said quietly when he noticed that Dustin had entered the store. He looked like he'd been crying, and Robin was definitely right when she said he’d never looked rougher. "If you're here to hang out-"

"I'm not here to hang out, Steve. We have to talk." Dustin crossed his arms sternly over his chest, raising his eyebrows and nodding his head in the direction of the store room. Steve grumbled and complied, unlocking the door and ushering Dustin inside.

"You have to apologise."

"Apologise? Apologise for - what exactly are we talking about?" Steve rubbed a hand exhaustedly over his face, leaning against a sealed box of movies that he was supposed to have put away by now.

"You know what for, Steve. Y/N. You hurt her. Like, really badly. I don't think I've ever seen her so upset." Steve already wanted Dustin to stop, but he continued, really wanting him to get the message of just how hurt his sister was. "She cried in her room for half an hour before she even let me talk to her, and now she's at home by herself, probably crying some more because you went to a stupid party. I mean, seriously man, couldn't you just have stayed home? What was so important about it?"

Steve threw his head back and hid his face with his hands, wanting the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He knew that he'd been a dick, he knew that he'd hurt her, but, Jesus, knowing the details made his heart flip in his chest and his stomach hurt. He hated seeing Y/N upset at the best of times, nevermind when it was his fault.

"Yeah. Yeah, I should've just left it. Jeez, Dustin, I'm such an asshole."

"Yes. An asshole, you are. And what was that other shit? About you kissing Nancy?"

"I didn't kiss Nancy, okay? My drunk mind just kinda...made me believe that I did. I called her today just to confirm." Steve swallowed, suddenly having the nausea of his hangover coming back to him.

"Does Y/N know that?" Dustin had his arms crossed, back against the wall, looking unimpressed as Steve shook his head. "Seriously man? Don't you think that the first thing you should've done after finding out that you didn't actually cheat on your girlfriend, was tell your girlfriend that you didn't actually cheat on her?"

"My head's all over the place, Henderson. Cut me some slack, okay?"

"You have to come say sorry, you know that, right?"

"I will. I will, I promise. I finish in an hour, why don't you go home, I'll buy some flowers, take a shower and get changed, and I'll come chap on your door like none of this even happened." Steve had suddenly perked up, gesturing with his arms and almost getting excited to initiate his plan.

"Yeah. Sure. But it better be good, Harrington. You better make her happy."

Steve didn't even have time to respond before Dustin was running off, getting on his bike, and cycling back home to his sister. He promised himself internally that he'd do all it took to make her happy.

Y/N had finished her ice cream and Dustin's had started to melt by the time he got home. She hadn't cried any more, had been too focussed on the movie, and Dustin was relieved to see her laughing at something on the screen when he entered her bedroom.

"Hey." She smiled. "Your ice cream's melting, you'd better eat it."

Dustin smiled and bellyflopped onto her bed, sending her into a fit of laughter. They both laughed so hard, in fact, that they barely heard the doorbell ring, and Dustin almost got up to go and get it.

He stopped himself though, not wanting Steve to call him an idiot or something along those lines. "You should go. I have to eat my ice cream before it melts." He said sheepishly, sitting back down from where he'd jumped up. Y/N rolled her eyes and threw the pillow that she was holding at Dustin's face.

"Alright, make your sad sister get the door because you have to eat ice cream." She stood up even as she spoke, knowing that Dustin wasn't going to budge. "Nice one, asshole."

Y/N had left her bedroom before Dustin could retaliate, bounding down the stairs and realising that, if anyone saw her the way that she looked now, they'd probably never respect her again. The doorbell went again, and she sighed quietly at the lack of patience from whoever was on the other side.

She - stupidly - didn't even bother to look out of the window that stood next to the door to check who it was before opening it, and nearly closed it again when she realised who was standing there.

"Hey, woah, don't close the door yet!" It was Steve, his eyes widened from the possibility that he'd come all the way to her house so that she could slam the door in his face, holding white lilies and a box of chocolates, which was - in Y/N's opinion - the cheesiest apology ever. "Just...listen? For like, a minute."

She slowly let her hand slide off of the door knob, watching as Steve relaxed a significant amount even from seeing her do that. "A minute." She crossed her arms over her chest, chewing her cheek. "You have a minute."

"Okay, uh, yeah, okay." Steve began his rambling. "Listen, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know I shouldn't have gone to that party, I know I shouldn't have gotten so drunk that I managed to convince myself that I kissed Nancy. Did I already say that I didn't actually kiss Nancy? I called her, and she said we didn't even speak. Bottom line is, I'm an asshole. I know that, and I hate myself for hurting you. Dustin told me how upset you were and I...I couldn't even comprehend the fact that I did that."

He paused, looking down at his feet and waiting for Y/N to say something. Something that didn't come, she simply stood, looking at and biting her fingernails, trying to figure out whether or not she should give in and forgive him or not, so he stopped waiting and spoke some more.

"I'm sorry. I love you. I love you so much. And I know that I fucked up, and I don't expect you to forgive me-"

"Steve." Y/N stopped him. He looked up at her, expecting that she'd look upset or annoyed, but she was smiling and shaking her head. "Come here."

"Seriously?" He already wished he hadn't said what he did before he'd even finished speaking. Seriously? What kind of thing to say was that? "I mean, you know-"

She was already hugging him before he could finish speaking. She knew that he'd ramble on for hours if he could, but she also knew that she already forgave him and didn't need to listen to his rambling. "It's okay. I forgive you."

"Oh, thank God. I thought I'd lost you, really, I did." He sighed into her hair, realising that he was probably ruining the bouquet of flowers with the way that he was crushing them against her back.

"Well, you were an asshole. You had every right to think you'd lost me." Steve had always loved her subtle sassiness, it was a habit that she often fell into unknowingly, but it made him chuckle.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I was an asshole."

She let go of him, finally, and stood back. He was wearing his light blue jeans, a black t-shirt and belt, with a blue jacket. It was an outfit that she'd seen him in before, quite a few times, but he never failed to look good in it anyway. His hair was slightly amiss, as though he'd gotten ready as quickly as he could - which was true, but she didn't know that for sure - but it still had his Steve 'the hair' Harrington charm.

"So, can I come in, or are you just gonna stand there and mock me?" He grinned and she stood to the side, allowing him to join her in the hallway. He went straight for the kitchen, taking out a vase and filling it up with water, then placing the flowers in it and leaving it on the kitchen counter.

"I didn't say you could-" She was trying to joke with him, but he didn't seem to care much, as he cut her off by dipping his head towards hers and kissing her passionately. He hated to admit it, probably something to do with the small part of his King Steve persona that he still carried around with him, but he'd missed her, and it had only been a few hours.

"Woah, easy tiger." Y/N laughed, pulling away when Steve's hands started to travel downwards. "We haven't even properly spoken yet."

"Yeah. Sorry." Steve said sheepishly. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and smiled down at the floor. "Do you wanna talk?"

She shrugged. "Not particularly."

"So, really, it's okay for me to do this," He closed the gap between them again, beaming at her while he searched her face for any sign of disapproval and admired the little flecks of contrasting colours that danced in her eyes. And then he kissed her again, lips soft against her own, gentle - something that wasn't widely believed, Steve Harrington was actually one of the most gentle people that Y/N had ever met.

"Well, yeah." She grinned, breathless. "But I'm sort of in the middle of watching a movie, wanna join?"

And so they spent the rest of the day, wrapped in the blankets on Y/N's bed and Y/N wrapped in Steve's arms, watching movies that Dustin fished out from the cabinet under the TV that Y/N didn't even know that they had.

She had to say, Steve's apologies were often cheesy and terrible, but this one wasn’t so bad as it was enjoyable.

[benhardyisdaddy]

attachment not included

MASTERLIST 

(i hope that whoever requested this, likes it!!! and i hope you all do too!)

WARNING: numerous mentions of violence, violence, mention of implied smut

Word Count: 4,179

Description: you are now known as eight. four can’t keep his eyes off of you as he desperately tries to figure you out.

It started out like a perfectly normal Sunday morning. You were at home with a cup of coffee in your hand while you're sat on your porch. The sun was rising and the colors in the sky were beautiful. This was your favorite thing to do on your days off. Your work schedule had been hectic, but that was your fault. Ever since your boyfriend left you, you tried to keep yourself as busy as you possibly can so you didn’t have to think about it. You consumed yourself with work and it helped, but only slightly.

At one point in your life, you were an informant for the Secret Services. You had been an orphan all of your life until one day, that changed. You were six years old when someone finally adopted you. You weren’t allowed to meet the person until you arrive at your destination - the middle of nowhere in Nevada. You weren’t adopted to be apart of a loving family, you were adopted to be groomed for the Secret Service. Your ‘father’ made it his mission to train you for anything and everything. You had to grow up too quickly. You never got a childhood as you were trained in every single class of self defense, weaponry and manipulation. They needed someone they could shape and mold into the deadliest human weapon possible - and they did. 

When you turned eighteen, you were trained in the art of seduction. You knew exactly what to say, how to act, how to read people and know exactly what they’re thinking. It truly was a special talent forced onto you and you were amazing at your job. That is, until you quit that job. You were beyond amazing at what you do - they would say the best they’ve ever had, but that wasn’t the life you wanted. You wanted a family… love. When you realize you’d never get that, you went cold. You found yourself hating your ‘father’, hating your job… Hating life. That’s why you decided to leave. Run away and hide. That is...until you were found. 

You made a life in a small boring town, with a small boring life and got with a boring guy - that is until he left. You were used to that now though. You had been on your porch and watching the colors of the sky change. You decide to get up and go get some more coffee. As you’re about to reach the door, someone behind you speaks. 

“You’re a hard one to find.” 

Suddenly, your cup is crashing to the ground as you whip around fast. You’re not even thinking as you fluently grab a man by his collar and slam him against the side of your house. You grab his arm as you hold it behind his back. He shouts in pain at the sudden attack. 

“Holy shit! I didn’t think you were that good!” he hisses with his face shoved into the wall. 

“Who the fuck are you!?” you scream. 

“I’m not here to hurt you!” the man shouts. “My name’s One and I have a proposition for you!” 

***

It took you several minutes to finally release the man. You didn’t let your guard down as it takes you less than ten seconds to evaluate him. He’s weaponless and you can tell by his body movement. He’s cautious and is more nervous of you than you are of him - as it should be. Your jaw is tensed as you stand up and tell him to sit down on the chair you were previously sat in. You listen as he explains anything and everything.

“We need someone like you.” he says once he’s finished. “I read everything there is to know about you. We need a charmer.” 

If you were anyone else, all of this would sound completely insane and terrifying, but you weren’t just anyone else. You were you and you’ve heard and seen crazier things. This actually all made sense. Something about what he was saying was pulling you in. As if everything you had trained for was for this moment. You were already alone in the world, how would faking your death make that any worse? 

“The charmer?” you ask with a raised brow. “That’s what you want to call me?” 

One just shrugs and smiles as he thinks. 

“That’s what you do, right? You charm people and get them to tell you whatever it is you want.”

You’re quiet for a moment before you step forward and change your entire mood. Your face softens and you half smile. 

“I like your eyes. My mother had the same color as you.” 

“Oh really?” he asks. “I get the color from my mother. She and my father-” 

He stops suddenly and looks up to you with a surprised face. Your eyes are narrowing as you smirk. 

“I see what you did there.” he says impressed. “You almost had me talking about my family life. That was amazing.”

“I don’t even know my mother.” you remind him with a smirk. “So... When do I become a ghost?” 

***

You faked your death and finally decided to go watch your funeral. You were shocked to find that only six people arrived. Your adopted father was there as he shed no tears. Typical emotionless SS. You stare at the man you call dad and turn around to storm away. You were done with him, with everything. Your new life was ahead of you there’s no looking back now. One was by your side the whole time until you get to headquarters. You were the last person joining the crew. They were to call you Eight. You’re holding your bags as you follow behind One and into the abandoned plane that they call home.

“Everyone,” calls out One. “I’d like to introduce you to our new ghost. Meet Eight. Eight, meet everyone.” 

All eyes are on you as you just nod your head. Your eyes scan their faces when you pause on the blonde who’s known as Four. You look away fast, but feel his eyes still on you. You look over as one of the men smirks and walks up to you. 

“One says that your some big Secret Service machine, but look at you,” Three laughs as he walks in front of you. “So tiny. What does she do? Fight flies?” 

He’s looking over at One as he laughs and everyone else rolls their eyes. You tense your jaw as your bags hit the floor and your hand grabs his wrist. You scream out as you fly forward and kick as his ankles. You bend over and fling him over your back and onto the ground with a loud thud. Everyone gasps as he coughs hard and tries to catch his breath. You stand up and act like you didn’t just do that. You bend down and grab your bags as you look over to One. 

“Where am I staying?” 

“If I show you, will you promise to never do that to me?” he asks with wide eyes. 

***

One Month Later 

You’ve gotten used to the group and understand the mission. One’s still doing some research on one specific person you’re trying to track. You’re sat on a chair as Seven and Four talk. You look out the small window and watch as One walks by. 

“What’s up with One? What’s his story? How does someone become that rich, yet be so unknown?” 

“He loves Wally the dog,” starts Four as he looks through old passports. “He loves his ‘beaver’ show. I think he’s an orphan.”

Four turns around to look at you and Seven, but his eyes stay on you. 

“Actually, we got a little bet on if you wanna put some money in.” 

“I’m an orphan.” you say with the most serious face ever. 

Four’s face drops as he looks beyond guilty and embarrassed. He sits up straighter and looks to Seven and back to you.

“Oh… I-I didn’t know. I’m sorr-”

This makes you break out into a smile as you watch Fours horrified expression. He’s confused for a moment, but finally understands. 

“I’m messing with you. I mean, I am one, but it’s no big deal.” 

You watch Fours face as he goes through several mixed emotions. This causes you to laugh lightly as he finally does the same. He shakes his head and looks down - obviously impressed by how amazing your acting had just been.

“Wow. You can laugh.” jokes Seven. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that.” 

You roll your eyes and look back down at your hands as Four speaks up. 

“I like it.” he says sweetly with his eyes on you. “Your laugh I mean.” 

You look up to him as your eyes lock. You feel your face turn red as you find yourself half smiling. You swallow hard and clear your throat as you stand up fast. The boys watch you as you find something to say. 

“I’m gonna go ask Three if he wants to practice.” you say quickly. 

You hurry out of the plane and have to catch your breath. Four looks away sadly at your leaving while Seven looks to him. 

“You like her.” he tells him. 

Fours eyes go wide as he looks to him and tries to act confused. 

“What? That’s insane.” he laughs. 

“Oh really? Ask those hearts in your eyes.” 

And with that, Seven turns around and walks out as well - leaving Four by himself with a big smile on his face. 

***

3 Weeks Later 

“This is bullshit.” you hiss as you pace by and forth. 

You and Four got stuck being the ones to stay in a hotel room and keep an eye on a man that’s staying in another hotel in front of you. You have a giant patio that looks out directly to the man’s hotel room across a tiny road. Four has binoculars over his eyes as a large radio and a device to hear far away are set up on the table next to him. 

“We should both be out doing field work too.” you say as you continue to pace. 

You act like you’re upset over that, but that’s not the main reason. You’re alone with Four in a hotel room. The man has you seeing stars every time you look at him. He messes with your head and causes you to forget what you were doing. You don’t realize that you do the same thing to him. You need to concentrate and it’s too hard to. 

“You aren’t at least a bit happy that we get to chill and get room service whenever?” he teases. 

He leans away and places the binoculars next to him. He frowns and shakes his head as he stares out the window. 

“I’m taking a break. There’s nothing to watch for. The guy’s not even there.”

He sounds frustrated as he stands up and stretches. You look away fast as he looks to you and stares. 

“You know, out of everyone here, you’re the one I can’t seem to figure out.” he says with narrowed eyes.

You swallow hard as you just shrug. You walk over to the bed and sit on the end of it. 

“Isn’t that the whole point?” you ask. “There’s a reason why One doesn’t want us to know names. We’d get attached.” 

“Bullshit.” says Four quietly as he shakes his head. “Several of us have almost died for each other. If that’s not being attached, then I don’t know what is.” 

You silently watch him as he begins pacing the room now. His hands are on his hips as he keeps speaking. 

“I know maybe two things about you. You worked for the SS and you were an orphan. That’s it. I know more about everyone else than I do you.” 

He seems almost frustrated as you stand up and narrow your eyes. 

“Why does it matter so much to you?”

He stops walking and turns to face you. His cheeks are pink as his lips are parted - deep in thought. He just shrugs as his eyes go wide slightly. 

“I mean… It-it doesn’t matter. I just…” 

He continues speaking almost gibberish as you slowly walk up to him and find yourself only inches away. Four straightens himself up and stares into your eyes as he goes serious. You raise a brow and look to his lips, then back to his eyes. 

“Do you want to kiss me?” you ask fast, catching him off guard. 

You already knew the answer. You know how to watch for signs and Four was definitely letting off signs that he wanted you. You’ve known that from the moment you met him. It wasn’t a secret. You’re just better at hiding your feelings. 

“What?” he whispers. “Um, I don’t kn… I don’t know-” 

Before his can fully answer, you lunge forward and land your lips on his. Four gasps slightly at your sudden actions, but quickly goes along with it. The kiss is hot and fast as your hands travel up and down each others bodies. Four cups your face with his hands and begins slowly walking towards the bed. The back of your legs hit it as you fall onto your back. He’s looking down at you with hunger in his eyes. 

“How did you know I wanted to kiss you?” he asks. 

Suddenly, he leans forward and grabs your hips as he harshly flips you over on your stomach. You moan as he leans forward and presses his chest with your back. He kisses your neck and shoulder as your eyes flutter closed. 

“I’m just really good at my job.” you tease, causing Four to almost growl in your ear. 

He leans away and flips you back over. He kisses down your neck and slowly trails down your chest. 

“Wait,” he says out of breath as he looks up to you. “Can I know your name?” 

You tense your jaw as you smirk down to him. 

“Maybe one day.” you whisper. 

Four watches you with dark eyes as he shakes his head and laughs. He goes back to kissing you as he slowly makes his way down in between your thighs. Your eyes squeeze closed as your back arches up from the bed. Man, did you love being right. 

***

Several months have passed as you all are still on the hunt for the man One wants to find. You all got word that he’s walking around an outside town plaza that’s filled with shops and people. You’ve partnered with Three as the two of you keep your eye out for the man. 

“Remember what he looks like?” he asks you quietly. 

You both have large sunglasses on as you peer around secretly. 

“Yep.” you tell him when you spot Four on the other side of the road. 

He’s watching you and gives you a small wink. You fight back a smile as you lightly shake your head and look away. The two of you have secretly had a fling ever since the night in the hotel. Nobody knows about it and you want it to stay that way. 

“Eight!” harshly whispers Three as his eyes spot something about five shops away. 

You look over fast and freeze. The man you’re trying to locate has been spotted, but he’s surrounded by three men in black outfits. 

“We have eyes on him.” you say low into your headpiece. 

“Don’t let him leave your sight!” shouts One through your ear. 

“Copy.” is all you say back. 

Suddenly, the man turns his head and he locks onto you. He narrows his eyes as he concentrates. Your heart almost stops beating as his face falls. All of you had almost gotten him a few weeks ago, but the mission was a bust. You did your part perfectly as you seduced him back to his room. It was the rest of the crew that had messed up. You had a knife to your throat, but luckily you knew how to fight your way out of that. He got away, but not for long.

You know for a fact that he’s recognized you. You’re panicking as Three walks beside you and looks around fast. Four realizes that you’ve been compromised as he begins to freak out. 

“He spots them!” he hisses into the earpiece. “He sees them!” 

Three grabs your wrist and forces you to look at him. The man and his small army begin walking your way as his eyes were still glued to you. You stare at Three as you begin to rub his arm and laugh as if he’s said something funny. He looks at you confused until he understands. He joins in as the man gets closer. You swallow hard just as he whispers to you. 

“Go along with me.” 

You’re confused as he grabs your face and begins kissing you like crazy. You’re taken aback, but finally go with it. You grab at his face as you speed up the kiss. His hands are flying all over your body as you try to hide both of your faces. Four is watching you two with wide eyes and a jealous heart. He tenses his jaw and absolutely hates watching another man touch you like he does. The two of you continue when you hear One pop up on your earpiece. 

“What in god's name is that noise?” he asks. “Is… Is someone kissing!?” 

Four clears his throat as he watches the man look at you two and quietly pass by with no interruptions. When it’s all clear, you shove Three away and wipe your mouth off. You’re breathing hard as you look for the man and spot him rounding the corner. 

“Let’s go.” you say as you look to Four. 

He’s watching you closely and raises a brow. You give him a sympathetic smile and shrug. You all begin to slowly make your way closer to the man. Three’s behind you as you slowly round the corner by yourself. Just as you do, there are screams all around as everyone begins running away. Four doesn’t understand what’s happening as he sprints to find you. He rounds the corner and stops. The man has you with his arm around your chest and a gun to your head. You’re remaining calm, but Four can see the terror in your eyes. The rest of the three men all have their guns drawn and pointed at Four and Three. 

“Let her go!” shouts Four loudly. 

His face was red with anger as he balls his hands into fists at his side. The man just laughs as he jerks you around with him. His squeeze tightens as you gasp. You can’t look away from Four as he stares at you. 

“You think the two of you can take out the four of us!?” he laughs. 

Suddenly, in less than two seconds, a quiet bullet flies through the air and in one quick motion - pierces all three of the men in the head. They happened to be in a perfect row as Seven fired. Three birds with one bullet. They fall to the ground as everyone flinches. The man looks at the dead men and now he’s the one with fear in his eyes. He looks back to Four and Three as he pushes the gun even harder against your head. 

“I’ll kill her!” he screams. 

All of a sudden, the man goes still as he thinks. He tenses his jaw and suddenly lets out a loud shout. 

“You’re going to kill me anyways!” he screams. 

He then grabs your neck and turns you around to face him. He’s squeezing tight as he flings you to the ground and you hit your back harshly. All of the wind is knocked out of you as you gasp. You hear Four screaming something when a loud bang is heard. It’s as if everything went in slow motion. The bullet ripped through the air and hit you in the shoulder. You were in complete shock as the pain hadn’t hit you yet. 

Just as the man pulled his trigger, he was down on the ground in a matter of seconds. Your vision became blurry as you look around and see doubles of everything. Four is down at your side as he holds your head and tries talking to you. He’s crying hard as he shakes his head no repeatedly. Three is next to you as he presses down on the wound to stop the bleeding. 

“Eight’s been shot!” he screams. “She’s been shot! We need Five!” 

“Stay with us! You’re going to be okay! Don’t close your eyes!” 

You were losing a lot of blood and you knew it. Your head was light and there was a light ring in your ears. You listen as others from the group finally show up and rushed to help. 

“Please don’t leave me!” Four begs with a harsh whisper. 

You flutter your eyes and slowly open to look at him once more. He’s watching you as you slightly smile and then wince from the pain. Five was trying to get the bullet out as fast as she can. You ignore it as you look back to him. 

“Y/n,” you say quietly. 

Fours face drops as more tears rush down his cheeks. 

“What?” he asks shocked. 

“You said we’ve all almost died for each other and you don’t even know our names. It’s y/n.”

Four finally understands as his face scrunches up and turns red as another wave of tears hits him hard. His breathing is hitched as he runs his hand against your cheek and smiles - his chin quivering. 

“That’s a beautiful name.” he whispers. “I’m Billy.” 

You smile more as your eyes flutter closed and your hand cups his face gently. 

“Bill…” you trail off as sleep starts to hit you. “Billy…” you barely whisper. 

Your hand falls to your side as Billy’s eyes go wide. He grabs your face and tries to wake you back up. 

“Y/n?! Wake up, y/n!? Please wake up! Don’t leave me!” 

He’s screaming loudly as Seven walks up and tries to pull him back. He’s fighting against him as he watches your lifeless body just laying there. 

“Give me room!” shouts Five as she tries to still remove the bullet. 

“I didn’t get to tell her!” Billy cries out. “I need to tell her!” 

Seven grabs Billy’s shoulder and turns him around to look at him. He lowers his head and looks him in the eye. 

“She loves you too, man.” he says quietly, causing Billy to go still. 

Seven must have known all along and never said a word. Billy’s heart breaks as he continues to look at him in shock. 

“She loves you too.” 

Billy is silent as Seven brings him in for a hug. Seven was right, you loved him too.

***

2 Days Later

“Mmm,” you groan in your sleep as your eyes squeeze together.

You move your head around as someone begins yelling out for Five. 

“She’s waking up! She’s waking up!” 

You take in a deep breath as your eyes flutter open, but fall closed again. You groan some more when you hear voices surrounding you. 

“Eight?” Five asks with a slow tone of voice. “Eight? If you can hear us, try to open your eyes.” 

You do hear her. Your eyes flutter open once more and this time they stay half open. You’re peeking out as you spot a blurry version of Five, Billy and Three. They’re all staring at you with worried expressions. Your eyes scan to Billy as they slowly close once more. This time, a smirk fills your face. 

“You look nothing like a Billy.” you barely whisper, causing him to laugh loudly. 

He was beyond happy that you’re awake and okay. Tears are in his eyes as he smiles huge, as does everyone else. He kneels next to your bed as his hand gently runs through your hair. 

“I was so worried about you.” he whispers. 

You open your eyes and half smile at his soft expression. 

“Is it because you like me?” you tease as you slightly laugh, your eyes closing once more. 

Billy’s quiet for a moment as he leans forward more and gently runs his fingers over your cheek. 

“It’s the other ‘L’ word… actually.” he whispers for only you to hear. 

You’re taken aback as you look to him fast. Your face is serious, but turns into a small smile. You move your hand over as you grab his. He lightly gives it a squeeze as he brings it up to his mouth and kisses it. 

“I… I ‘L’ you too.” you tease with a smirk. 

Billy looks beyond thrilled that you had just said it back to him. He can’t stop smiling as he bends down and softly kisses you. 

The girl who wanted a family, finally did. The girl who wanted to be needed, finally is. The girl who wanted to be loved, finally was.

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[we-are-inevitable]

modern art // javid (ch. 1)

A/N: hi !! so some of you may remember an old songfic i did in march of last year, titled ‘modern art’ after the song “IDK You Yet” by Alexander 23. well, i’ve always thought that that one shot would work great as a stand alone fic, and here we are! i have ch. 1 edited and SO MUCH of it as changed- like, for example, the fic is a chapter fic now !! regardless, i hope you guys like this !!

WARNINGS: depression, anxiety, self-deprecation, past addiction, mentions of addiction, just general Bad Times- pls be mindful when reading !! it’s just very Not Happy rn ADDITIONAL INFO: all characters are in their mid-twenties in the fic. oh also this is probably important but it’s a soulmate au !!

Read On AO3!

tag list: @bound-for-santa-fe @wannabecowboypunk @shippingcannons @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside @smallsies @deliciouspeachpirate @newsies-is-my-erster 

Jack doesn't know what’s going on with himself, but he knows that he could really use his soulmate right about now.

They’ve communicated before. Never verbally, and never enough to reveal who they were. Perhaps they are both just... dealing with some unspoken fears, dealing with the worry of rejection sitting heavy in their chests. Perhaps they both like this mystery- the uncertainty that came with the notes scrawled across their bodies in a handwriting that isn’t their own.

Or perhaps they just aren’t ready to take the plunge. To grow up and face the harsh fact that, as soon as they meet, wherever and whenever that may be, a new chapter of their life will unfold. Consume them. Change anything and everything they’ve ever known or held dear.

They had been braver when they were children, that much was true. Jack remembers staying up late often, writing notes on his skin and watching in awe as the replies appeared. He remembers the giddy rush of trying to quickly wash off the ink on his wrist when they ran out of space to talk, and, oh, how they talked. There were school days when Jack would go to class exhausted, feeling like he’d been walking through quicksand for miles on end, but all of it had been worth it. The exhaustion he felt had been worth being able to talk to them until two, three, four in the morning. Sometimes he regretted it, of course, but only because it was harder for him to focus in class. Never because he was upset at them.

He could never be upset with them.

Even now, Jack remembers a lot about his soulmate. They liked music. They knew how to play the piano. They were into a few video games, even some that Jack had never played, and said that they always tried carrying a book with them wherever they went. Jack remembers that, as a younger kid, they liked Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, but also liked analyzing Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe and a bunch of other fancy authors that Jack had never even heard of. They were intimidatingly smart, and sometimes, would carefully correct Jack’s grammar whenever he misspelled a word or something- but they were never mean about it, they were just… there. A steady presence that he could count on.

Fifteen year old Jack dreamed of finding them one day. But now, twenty-five year old Jack is losing hope.

He can’t exactly help it. For starters, he and his soulmate haven’t communicated in… well, shit, it had to be nearly a year. Maybe nine months or so, but there’s no way to tell for sure, and even then, their conversations since reaching adulthood have been dull, for lack of a better word. A few positive comments here, a ‘have a good day’ there- it’s all so mundane, and neither of them can be blamed for it. They both have busy lives- or, well, Jack does, at least. His job as a graphic designer is hard enough on its own, but the added pressure of doing freelance work and commissions on the side has been eating away at him for weeks, coupled with debilitating self-doubt and lack of motivation for… anything.

Saying that he’s overwhelmed is the understatement of the century.

There is always another design, another client, another meeting, another deadline, another sleepless night as he stares at a blank canvas and prays for a spark of inspiration from whatever God is listening. Usually his inspiration comes from the world around him- his friends, city life, even the quiet confines of his apartment, but right now... Jack is stuck. He had holed himself up in his room days ago, trying and failing to get out of bed every morning when the time came to work- and thank God that the majority of his work could be done from home. His boss was understanding, too, to an extent.

Still, though, there’s a constant heavy weight on his chest that prevents him from moving most days, and he’s lucky if he even gets up long enough to shower or eat or do literally anything aside from lie in silence and count the cracks in his ceiling.

Nothing had happened to him recently to bring this on, from what he can tell. Jack has always been the happy-go-lucky leader, the man with a plan, the guy who always knew just what to say to motivate others into doing the best thing for themselves, but when that responsibility is reflected back onto himself, Jack feels helpless. There are words waiting to be said, sketches waiting to be drawn, designs waiting to be sent to clients… yet Jack lies there, motionless in his room for three days before he even has the energy, the willpower, to pull back his curtains and allow the sunlight to shine through. There is so much he wants to do, so much he needs to do, but he can't bring himself to do any of it.

In all twenty-five years of his life, through all of the things he’s been through, the ups and downs and foster homes and graduations and birthdays and funerals and therapists and rehab facilities and whatever the fuck else life decided to throw at him, Jack has never felt so worthless, so… lonely. His closest friends are all moving on with their lives. Many have already found their soulmate, have settled down and hidden their rowdy, rambunctious pasts behind skeletons in a closet. They’d all gotten their adventures done and over with in high school and college, and most are moving onto bigger and better things in life. They have careers. Families. Some have children, others have pets, a few have an insane amount of plants to care for.

All have seemingly left Jack behind in the dust.

No one told him when to flip the switch.

No one told him when he had aged out of adventure.

Now, they would never say it, but Jack knows. He knows. Saturday hangouts and trips to the bar had been replaced by Sunday church services and playdates for the kids. Rather than hearing yelling from his living room after his friends had all been teetering just on the edge between tipsy and fucked up, Jack hears the news, and documentaries, and podcasts, and the ghosts of a past life that he still seemed to be desperately clinging on to.

Katherine had been the one to tell him that he needed to grow up, though she didn’t put it in such a blunt manner. No, she’s just.... gently urging him to find a bigger apartment, or buy matching furniture from a place that is not a thrift store, or purchase dishes that weren’t of the plastic Walmart brand. She says it was because she wants to see him in a more professional, "adulty" lifestyle, but he knows it’s really because she can see that he’s a mess.

Deep down, Jack knows she’s right. She’s always right.

He just can’t help but feel cemented in place, dreaming of the past while dreading the new future ahead of him.

Jack never asked to feel so broken for no reason. All of the hope and optimism he had felt as a teenager was gone, lost in a sea of uncertain plans and shitty jobs and bill extensions and canvases dropped onto the floor with no rhyme or reason. And, yes, maybe Jack would look dramatic to someone who didn’t know his situation, but Jack knows what dramatic feels like. Dramatic feels like watching his best friend, Charlie, belt onstage in front of a backdrop that he helped create for the school play. Dramatic feels like laughing at the top of his lungs while walking through a random gas station at two in the morning, joined by Race and Al, all while higher than a kite. Dramatic feels like driving to the outskirts of the city with Katherine, climbing onto the roof of an old building and screaming about all of their stress, their anxiety, their insecurities, just to have some form of emotional release.

Dramatic doesn’t feel like sadness. It’s not supposed to.

Not for Jack.

He had been so… so happy, as a teenager. Proud and defiant and carefree. He was the kind of guy to skate and smoke weed in Central Park until midnight and take a math test at eight in the morning the next day. He was the kid who stood on a table in the cafeteria and came out as bisexual to everyone around him, just because of a dumbass bet that he didn’t even get paid for. He was the boy who wasn’t at all good in an academic sense, but who always knew how to talk himself out of trouble, who always came up with the most ridiculous- or most believable- lies to cover his ass when he needed it, who was always the class favorite, the teacher’s pet without meaning to be.

Jack had felt on top of the world back then, but now he’s struggling to even get off of the ground. The longer time goes on, the more lost Jack feels inside his own life. He feels like something was missing, something big. Something bigger than himself.

When his mother was alive, which now felt like lifetimes ago, she would often echo this old wives’ tale about how it’s best to find your soulmate while you’re younger, just to save them- and yourself- the pain of being alone for a long time. Jack had always kind of believed her; logically, he knew it was true, but he had always told himself that it wouldn’t happen to him. That he would be fine alone, though it wouldn’t be ideal, and that he would have plenty of time for soulmates after he got out and made a name for himself.

He’s starting to think, though, that maybe she was right. Maybe Jack had waited too long to make a move, to make contact again, because now, he just feels nauseous even thinking about it.

Don’t get him wrong, he knows the negative effects of self deprecation and not taking his own mental health seriously, he’s been to rehab before, blah, blah, blah, but, fuck, how could he put his soulmate through something like this? This fucked up state of mind he has now. Jack can’t even imagine talking to Katherine about this, and Katherine had been his best friend for over a decade. He can’t just meet his soulmate now- it’s been too long, he’s too messed up, they won’t like him, they’ll hate him for not trying hard enough, and Jack will just end up alone again, wasting away in his bedroom because no one fucking cares. No one cares. He has nobody.

That’s not true. He has Medda, his mom, his savior, his impulse control, but the thought of telling her that everything is acting up again makes him want to scream. He has Tony, but Tony has Al, and Tony and Al have a kid- a sweet little five year old girl who calls Jack ‘Uncle Jackie’ and takes no shit from anyone. He has Katherine, but Katherine has her soulmate- this dude named Darcy, who Jack doesn’t have much of an opinion on because they just met, like, a month ago, and Jack hasn’t exactly been emotionally ready for a hangout session between the three of them. He also has Charlie, and Charlie has certainly seen him in worse times- like when Jack was kind of hooked on pills for the entirety their freshman year of college- but Charlie has grad school to worry about and Charlie would hate him if he bothered him with this.

Still, there are other people who would listen, probably. He could easily talk to Elmer, or Romeo, or Specs, or Jojo or Finch or Sean or a fucking therapist but that’s just it, isn’t it? If he talks, he burdens, and Jack Francisco Kelly would rather run himself into the ground than be a burden anyone.

So, he makes a vow.

He makes eye contact with his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He’s gripping onto the sink, holding on for dear life, as he stares into his own sunken eyes. He takes in his appearance. Damp, messy hair, falling down to cover his forehead. Pale skin, which isn’t normal at all. Dark circles have taken their place around his eyes, and his smile- one of his favorite things about himself- is… nonexistent.

Distantly, Jack registers himself dumping a full bottle of ibuprofen into the sink. And then, he does the same thing with the bottle of melatonin from his medicine cabinet. The valium follows. He lets the water run for a long time. It's not that he doesn't trust himself- he'd done so, so good in rehab, and he doesn't even feel urges that often anymore- but it's better safe than sorry, especially since he's like... this.

This is not the Jack Kelly he’s used to anymore. This is not the Jack Kelly he wants to be.

But this Jack Kelly is the one who vows not to reach out. The one who vows to only answer when his soulmate is ready, and maybe not even then.

He doesn’t have to wait long, though.

Not when a heart appears on the back of his hand the next morning.

It’s there when Jack wakes up, and, honestly, it almost brings Jack to tears- but not necessarily for happy reasons. Sure, Jack wants to be happy. Who wouldn’t be happy after seeing something like this? A lopsided heart drawn in red ink, right on the back of his left hand- it was the definition of a symbol, of a romantic gesture, and Jack wants so badly to write back, to strike up conversation, to draw a goddamn heart, but… he can’t.

He can’t, and that’s horrible of him, and he knows it.

Right now, though… Jack can’t even work up the courage, the energy, to call his mom.

His soulmate, whoever they are, is going to have to wait.

[onegayastronaut]

Best Laid Plans (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

Requested by anon:  Natasha x reader finds out what happens I may after she doesn’t come back with Clint

Words: 2256

Dating Nat has always been a roller coaster, but one thing that you could always depend on is that she would find her way back to you. Your girlfriend had told you on multiple occasions that no matter how dark her future seemed, it was brighter whenever she thought about coming home to you. She called you her “north star” because no matter how dark her life got, she knew she could always count on you to bring her home.

One thing that had always frustrated you at the beginning of the relationship was not knowing what was going on with Natasha when she was on a mission. It wasn’t that you felt a need to keep an eye on your girlfriend: you knew that there was no one who could beat her in a head-on fight. But even though you knew she could hold her own in a fight, it didn’t stop you from worrying about her whenever she went out. You had talked to Pepper about your worries, and she had talked to Tony about giving you the head engineer job at the Avengers base. Tony always gave the hardest assignments because you were the only person other than himself that he trusted to get the job done, and you were very happy to spend more time with your girlfriend and get paid the same time. Most of the time it was fun and games (especially when Thor was around), but now that Thanos had won, there were no jokes to be had.

After getting the team back together, Scott had helped come up with an insane idea -- the Avengers would break up in teams to get the Infinity Stones back and stop Thanos before he destroyed half the world. Natasha and Clint were sent to get the Soul Stone from the planet where it could be found, and you couldn’t help but feel your stomach tighten as you watched Natasha gear up. 

Neither of you said anything, but as she stood up, you grabbed her by the arm. “Nat, don’t go.”

“The team is counting on me, (Y/N). I...we need to do this for the teammates that we lost. Not only that, but the rest of the world also needs an answer about what happened.”

“Nat, the Soul Stone needs a sacrifice. I can’t lose you. Please stay, for me.”

“(Y/N), you know I’ll always come back to you. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone. Banner and that ant dude, or whatever he calls himself, said that the people here will barely notice the difference when we come back. So don’t worry about it, I’ll be back and we can watch as many movies as you like.” And with that, Natasha kissed you and walked towards the time machine. You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until both Natasha and Clint disappeared.

True to Natasha’s word, the machine whirred after a few moments. One after another, the Avengers came back with their respective stones. With every Avenger that came back, you breathed a sigh of relief that another friend was safe, but the knot of tension on grew in your stomach as you waited for Natasha and Clint to come back. Pretty soon, the machine started back up again, and in a flash, a figure appeared on the machine. But unlike the other groups, there was only one figure standing on the platform, and it wasn’t Natasha.

As soon as Clint stepped off the platform, you frantically ran over to him. “Where is she? Where’s Natasha? Why isn’t she with you?”

“She’s not here. She’s gone. She’s gone.”

“No. No. She said she’d come back. She can’t be gone.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m so sorry. I told her it should have been me. I tried to stop her, but she went over the cliff. I’m so sorry.”

“Why? Why would she do this?” You had grabbed Clint by his shirt and was gently shaking it as tears started coming down your face. Normally you would never have done this to any of the Avengers considering any of them could put you on your ass faster than you could blink, but you didn’t understand why Natasha would send herself over the cliff when she knew what her death would do to you. You didn’t blame Clint because you knew he loved her too and would have sacrificed herself without hesitation. It was just that Natasha was faster and beat him to it.

There was no time to grieve as the Avengers were only halfway done with their job. But within a week, the population was restored back to the original count before Thanos came about, and the Avengers were grieving the death of Tony. You had felt the loss of Tony like you had lost a brother, and it was made worse by the fact that you didn’t have Natasha next to you to process all that had happened. Clint seemed to be the only one who understood how you processed grief. Even though he had gotten his family back, he still found time after the funeral to have a beer with you and sit in silence for as long as it took for you to feel better.

After drinking with Clint, you went to go find Banner. You had an idea, and he was the only Avenger that was able to help you. He most likely would say no to what you had in mind, but you were sure you could convince him.

“Hey, Bruce, I need your help.”

“Of course, (Y/N). Anything I can do to help.”

“Do you have any of the serum left for the machine?”

“Why? What do you have in mind?”

“I’m going to Vormir. I refuse to believe that Natasha is just gone. If she’s still there, there’s no way I’m leaving her trapped on that planet on her own.”

“No, (Y/N), it’s too dangerous. What happens if you don’t make it back? Then both of you will be trapped there.”

“Bruce, I’ve thought of that. I feel like I died when I didn’t see Nat come back on that platform. You know that if you don’t help me try to get her back, I’ll risk it on my own. But I’m asking for your help because I know you loved her too.”

“Okay, (Y/N).” Bruce turned around and started getting everything ready. After putting on the suit and taking the serum, you stood in front of one of the platforms. Bruce came up to you and put a heavy hand on your shoulder. “Stay safe, (Y/N). I want her back too, but not if that means you die in the process. Are you sure you want to do this?” 

You nodded curtly and closed your eyes. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I’m ready, Bruce.” You heard the machine start up, and before you knew it, you felt yourself enter the quantum realm on your way to Vormir.

When you opened your eyes, you were lying facedown in a marsh. When you looked up, there seemed to be two different moons in the sky. As you got up, you started heading over to the mountain that had the most prominent peak in sight. This planet was as desolate as you imagined it to be, and you could barely stand staying here, but you had already resolved to not leave without Natasha. As you reached the piece of rock that jutted out from the rest, you walked to the edge and looked over. For a second, you thought you saw your girlfriend lying there, but when you blinked, she was gone. You felt a breeze, and you knew that Red Skull was there behind you.

“You’re not here for the Soul Stone.”

“That’s right. I’m here to get her back.”

“Then you came for nothing. When a life is sacrificed, there is no coming back. She knew the cost when she sacrificed herself for the Stone.”

“I’ll sacrifice myself to bring her back. I won’t turn around and leave just because you said no.” When you turned around, Red Skull was already gone. With nothing else to do, you sat at the edge of the rock and decided to wait. You already knew you were in the right place considering Red Skull had come to talk to you, so all there was left to do was to have some patience.

-----

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Steve marched over to Bruce in the lab and looked around. “Last I saw her she was headed in here.”

“She’s gone.” Bruce felt bad being evasive to Steve, as Steve was one of the few people who weren’t scared of the Hulk.

“Gone where? Where is she?” Steve’s clear blue eyes demanded the truth, and Bruce relented after a while.

“You know where. She misses Natasha too much not to go.”

“Send me there. I’m not letting her do this on her own.” Steve took his shield and got onto the platform.

-----

When you heard a noise coming from your left side, you thought that Red Skull had come back for another chat. Instead, you saw an older man clambering up the rocks to get to you. “Who are you?”

“I should be asking you that question, (Y/N). You don’t look so good.”

“Rogers? How long have I been here? You look like a grandpa.”

“Technically, a few hours in our world. But like you, I took a detour. I got to spend a few decades with Peggy before I came back.”

“I could have sworn I’ve been here for days.”

“Which would probably explain why you look like that. This environment isn’t suitable for humans for extended periods of time. I’m taking you back.” Steve bent over and picked you up.

“No! Let me down! I’m not leaving here without Natasha.”

“She’ll never forgive me if I allowed you to die down here, (Y/N). And as your friend, I’m taking you back home before this place takes your life too.”

“You don’t understand, I can’t leave. If I leave that means Nat will be here alone.”

Cap set you down and looked at you. He knew the pain you felt in your heart, and he was beyond upset to see you like this. “We have to go. We both know what’ll happen if you stay.” A hot tear made its way down your face, and Steve squatted down next to you. “Nat would want you to live, (Y/N). You know that. Now come on, we don’t have much time.” He held out his hand and waited for you to take it.

“Why is your hand so cold? And what do you mean we don’t have time? Did Banner put a time limit on our suits or are you just old?”

“Not exactly.” There seemed a bit of sadness in his voice as you walked down the cliff together.

“Leaving so soon?” You could not believe your ears as you turned around to see Natasha standing there. “Hey, babe.”

You ran over to hug your girlfriend, not willing to believe your eyes. “How are you here? How did this happen? I love that you’re here with me now, but Red Skull said it couldn’t be done.” Turning around, you saw Red Skull standing next to Steve. “What’s going on?”

“You wanted your girlfriend back, and you can leave with her. But the price is a soul for a soul. And this one has agreed to stay behind.” Red Skull put a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“No, Steve, I can’t let you do this. Not for me.”

“It’s okay, (Y/N), it’s okay. I managed to use my last time travel round to go back to Peggy, and I’ve lived a full life with her. It’s only fair you get to be with the girl of your dreams too.”

“But what do I do without my best friend by my side?” Tears threatened to come out of your eyes again. You are so sick and tired of losing the people you love.

“You’ve never needed me to be your moral compass. I’m sure you’ll do just fine on your own. Besides, I think you got someone who will help you make the right decision if you ever needed someone with an honest opinion.” Steve handed you a handheld machine and gave you a warm hug. “You’ll be needing this to get back.”

“Are you sure about doing this?”

“I don’t think it’ll be long before I get to see Peggy again. She’s probably waiting for me on the other side. Don’t forget, I’ll always be here, no matter where or when you are.” Steve tapped you twice on the chest. “I want you and Nat to be as happy as possible, all right? I got to live the life I always wanted with my best girl and now it’s your turn to do the same.”

As you and Natasha stood together in preparation to leave Vormir, you couldn’t help but look back at the Avenger who had become one of your closest friends in all the galaxy. Your last memory of Steve was him giving you a little wave before you pressed the machine to send you back to the Avengers base. You landed on the platform with tears in your eyes, but not from grief this time. Maybe Steve was right: maybe all the support you needed was right there with you in your arms.

[fan-imagines]

Dylan O’Brien~Big Girls Don’t Cry

MASTERLIST

Dylan O’Brien x NeutralReader

Synopsis - you are an actor on Teen Wolf. you and Dylan are filming a scene, but there’s something in your past that doesn’t allow you to cry. Dylan helps you when you have a panic attack about it.

Word Count - 2.1k+

**Warnings** mentions of abuse and drunk driving accident, panic and anger attack, self-depricating

a.n. - hi! so this one is a little more serious so read with caution, and i also know that the way he stops the panic attack isn’t an accurate way to do so, i just wanted to use it because of the Stydia moment. also, i apologize for this being so late in the week. i have been insanely busy this week, but you don’t care lol. enjoy this imagine!

‘’Come on, Y/c/n, just say something. Please.’’ Dylan says his line to me, as he forcefully waves his arm to get his point across.

‘’What do you expect me to do, Stiles? I’m not equipped for this!’’ I shout back at him, and try to have some form of tear fall down my face. At least have my eyes pool, but this is the seventh take and nothing has happened yet. We used some tear-jerker eye drops, but they didn’t give the effect the director wanted. I am always told that I am a great actor, and that’s specifically why Jeff Davis had a role made for me. I can act out almost anything, but for the longest time, I have not been able to cry. I hate that I can’t cry. Well, I guess I could, but if I start, I won't be able to stop.

‘'I don’t know! I’m not equipped for this either, but you see me doing it.’’

‘’I can’t. I don’t... I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to lose you.’’ A tear is supposed to fall from eye, Stiles is to come up to me and wipe it away, then embrace me in a hug. No tear falls, so the scene doesn’t advance.  

‘’Cut!’’ I hear the director call, and he sounds very annoyed, which I completely understand. I’m holding up production, and I can’t seem to do a simple task. I sigh heavily in frustration. ‘’That’s it for the day! Let’s go ahead and wrap it up.’’ He stands from his chair, rubs his temple, and begins walking away. I can feel the anger at myself rise up in my body, and I just want to get to my trailer so I can release it.

‘’Hey, Y/n, it’s-’’ But I don’t hear the rest as I am making a bee-line for my trailer. I open up the trailer door, and rip off the jacket I had on, as it was making me hot. 

I close my eyes and breathe through my nose to try and calm myself down, but it’s not working. Thoughts are flying through my head, and overcoming my brain.  

How are you even actor? You’re dumb, you can’t even do a simple thing as cry. You’re not an actor, you’re a child thinking they can do whatever they want. You’re stupid. You’re an idiot. You think you can do well with this job?

I clench my hair, trying to claw the thoughts out of my brain. I open my mouth to scream, but no noise comes out. I don’t want make too much noise, still a little aware of the other people on this lot. My legs give out, and I fall to the ground and lean my forehead against it. I bring my arm up and slam it back down to the floor of the trailer until my palm hurts. My breathing gets ragged as the thoughts continue to fly through my head.

You think that anyone on this team likes you? You hold up production, you forget your lines, you annoy everyone, and you know it. You ruin everything. You can’t do anything. You don’t matter, and you can’t save anyone. You couldn’t save your mom or sister. You can’t even save yourself.  

My throat feels thick, and I feel like the room is crushing in on me. I cry out, and tears fly from my eyes for the first time in years when I think about what happened to my family. The sobs croak out as the air gets thinner in the room. I look at my hands through my tear-clouded eyes, and see them shaking violently. I can’t do this. I can’t think straight. I can’t even breathe. Oh my gosh, I can’t breathe. The door to my trailer is opened, but I don’t hear it over the sounds of me trying to catch a breath.  

I don’t notice that anyone walked in until Dylan is sitting in front of me, looking worriedly at my eyes that are tear-filled.  

‘’Y/n. Listen to my voi --- come on you can --- breathe ---- focus on me and ---.’’ His voice cuts in and out in my ears, not being able to understand what he is trying to say. He continues to look at me, seemingly trying to figure out what to do. The next thing I know, his lips are on mine, and it’s few seconds before I’m kissing him back. He pulls back in a few seconds, and I am finally able to take deep, heavy breaths; the thoughts in my head lightly subsiding to the back of my mind.  

‘'Dylan.’’ I say, breathlessly. I look up at him, ^^^ still catching my breath, and happy to have the small distraction from my turmoil.

‘’I’m, I’m sorry. That’s not how I would usually calm someone down from something like this. I don’t know, it worked for our characters, and I thought I would try it.’’ He says, sheepishly, waiting for my reaction. My breathing stalls to almost normal, and my heart beat slows. I try to focus on everything else, but what was swirling in my mind. I look at the TV that’s mounted on the wall. The black sofa that turns out into a bed. I look at my trailer door which Dylan came in from. I look at Dylan’s blue shirt, his white and gray flannel that he still has on from Stiles’ outfit. I look at his golden-brown eyes, and the hint of worry behind them. I notice his freckles that scatter along his face. There aren’t too many, but there are enough to lightly coat his face. My eyes shift to his lips that were just on mine. They are nicely shaped for his face, and are usually in the form of a smirk or a smile. I look back to his eyes, feeling calmer, but suddenly realize that I haven’t said anything except his name.

‘’Thank, thank you,’’ My voice comes out shaky, and my body is starting to feel tired and shaky. My palm hurts from where I was hitting it, and my head feels hot, like it’s going to explode. ‘’I don’t know what would have happened if you didn’t come.’’ His eyes change from worry to warmth.  

‘’Here, let me help you up.’’ He stands before grabbing my elbows and helping me stand. My legs are still wobbly, and I almost fall again, but Dylan catches me. He leads me to the sofa a few feet away, and crouches in front of me to continue to be face to face. ‘’Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?’’ His voice is non-judgmental, and genuinely concerned, which makes me think. I can’t have this bottled in anymore. I can’t keep living with this burden that could weigh me down completely much longer.  

‘’Umm,’’ I start.

‘’You don’t have to, Y/n. Just you can, if you want. I’m here to listen.’’ His voice comes out quickly, but still concerned, wanting to understand what’s going on.  

‘’No, I do. It's just, I haven’t thought about this, let alone talked about it since it happened.’’

‘’You don’t have to tell me. We can just sit here until you get annoyed of me, but it may help.’’

‘’I want to. I think it’s time to finally get this off my chest,’’ I look down at my hands, trying to figure out where to start, ‘’My mom was left by my dad when I was little. She somewhat quickly remarried, needing help around the house, and with finances. They had a baby together, and the baby was a girl. My stepdad became abusive towards me, but told me that if I cried, he would hit my mom, or my sister, who was a toddler at the time. I cried twice, and the pain was much worse. He ‘dropped’ my sister, which gave her a concussion. So, I bore it. I never cried after that. I couldn’t risk him hitting my mom or sister again. I never even told my mom what was happening, she just assumed I was a clumsy child. One day, he got super drunk and upset, so he decided to take my mom and sister on a drive. They got in an accident, caused by him, kill-’’ I feel my heart start pounding at the thought, and reliving what happened. He grabs my hand, and lightly squeezes it. I take a breath and continue, needing to do this, ‘’Killing them. I don’t have any other family that stepped up, so I was sent to foster care. That’s where I would pretend to be someone different in every house I went into. It was the only thing that kept me rooted. I wouldn’t think about my mom or sister. I was someone else. I was playing a character, and when you’re acting, you don’t think about your life. If I cry, I am showing weakness, and there are consequences. I’m messed up, and crying only reminds me of that. I, I didn’t do anything to save them. If I told my mom, maybe it would have been different. Maybe she could have left. Her and my sister would still be alive. I wouldn’t have had to watch as they were lowered into the ground. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even cry at their funeral. I mean, who even does that? Who does that?’’ Another tear falls, and I furiously wipe it away.  

‘’Hey, it’s okay to cry. It doesn't show weakness. It helps you build strength. You get out what's causing you pain, and you learn how to live with it. There are no bad consequences to letting out how you are feeling. It helps show how you think, how you care, and how you love. I know you loved your sister and mom, that’s why you shielded what happened to them. What happened to you. You can remember them without that man corrupting that. I’m sure your mom made you and your sister a PB&J, and you sat outside with a glass of milk, looking at the sun.’’ I lightly smile and nod, thinking about this. She actually gave us apple juice. We had just gotten back from the park, where my mom would push me on swings. ‘’Not all the memories have to be bad. You are not weak, in the slightest, Y/n. You endured that pain so your family wouldn’t have to. You are strong. Sitting here with me, telling me about what happened, and doing so well in life, despite what you went through is strong. You’re stronger than anyone I know. I am weak compared to you. Yesterday, I shed a little tear when I toasted my bread a little too long.’’ I laugh at this, and he smiles. I nod, accepting what he is saying. I am strong. I lived through torment, and I am successful now. They are still with me, watching over me. I kept them safe from what I could, and that was strong of me. Crying for them isn’t weak. Crying isn’t showing weakness. I’m not weak.  

I lean forward, and grab Dylan to pull him to me. I wrap my arms around his neck, and hug him tightly. He hugs me back in an instant, just as hard.  

‘’Thank you, Dylan.’' He hums, and we stay in this position.

~~~~

‘’Come on, Y/c/n, just say something. Please.’’ We just came on set, and we’re doing our scene again, hopefully successful this time.  

‘’What do you expect me to do, Stiles? I’m not equipped for this!’’ I shout. I think about how wonderful my mom was, and how pretty my sister was. My eyes pool, giving the right affect, and I see Dylan lightly nod.  

‘'I don’t know! I’m not equipped for this either, but you see me doing it.’’ Dylan comes closer to me, meeting his mark. I let my eyes continue to fill, before saying my next line.  

‘’I can’t. I don’t... I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to lose you.’’ Two tears fall, almost simultaneously, and Dylan wraps his arms around me, making sure to not cover my entire face, as that’s what will show in the camera.  

‘’Trust me, Y/c/n. You can do this. I’ll always be here with you; I’m not going anywhere.’’

‘’And, cut! That was amazing, Y/n. Great job you guys. Let’s get set up for our next scene.’’ I hear. I pull away from Dylan, and he wipes my tears, smiling at me.  

‘’You were fantastic. You’re amazing, Y/n.’’ I smile, and kiss him. He is slightly shocked, but kisses me back in two seconds. We pull away, catching our breath, and I’m the first to speak.  

‘’You did this for me.’’ I tell him.

‘'No, you did this yourself. I just helped you a little.’’

‘’Thank you, regardless.’’ I chuckle.  

‘’The pleasure’s mine.’’

‘’Alright, lovebirds, we’re setting up for the next scene.’’ Tyler says to us. We both look at him, and nod, following him to the golf cart, our hands intertwined.