#we are both sons of bitches. we flock together

[realpokemon]

*sneaks up on Bart and grabs him while you aren't looking*

try it. he's so chatty when he's anxious (for a gulpin) you'll be giving him back within the hour

[trashmouth-richie]

TWIN FLAMES: 11 💔

<w.c> 3.5k

Warnings!: NO MINORS 🔞 sexual content, drug and alcohol abuse. Mentions of physical abuse. Blood warning.

A/N: this changes pov quite a bit and I did add dividers to show when that happens… except readers pov.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics & @silkholland

Blood is squirting from his body like a sprinkler on a summer day as he falls to the floor. Everyone is frozen in the moment, stunned at the copious amounts of blood spreading across his skin. The barrel of the gun was still smoking as the scent of gunpowder clung heavy to everyone’s nose. The blonde girl laying on the couch has woke from her drugged stupor and is screaming at the sight of blood.

“Jesus! Jesus Christ! Call 9-1-1!” Dustin screams as he runs to the bathroom for towels, tripping on the way over the scattered beer cans. A shaky Robin on Bambi’s legs scampers off towards the kitchen in search of a phone.

You were in shock standing with your mouth hung open as everyone else seemed to jump into action. Mike barreled towards Billy, all 90 lbs of him, trying to wrangle the gun away from his hands. Dustin runs back into the living room, a terrified expression on his face, with an armload of towels and starts putting pressure on the wound. You hear your name being called but aren’t sure who is yelling it. Chaos ensues as you run to Eddie. Eddie’s in shock and disbelief that this happened, can’t believe the amount of blood he is seeing, pooling around the floor.

Steve and Nancy are huddled together like a pair of puppies in a small heap on the floor. She is crying, sobbing and so is Steve.

“Ambulance is on the way— just hold on, shit! Oh my god that’s a lot of blood! Shit! What do we do!?”

“Robin calm down, I need your help! Y/N! Get over here! We need your help too!” Dustin orders.

“I can’t, Dustin —I can’t.” Tears stream down your cheeks as you hold Eddie’s face. He is whispering to you telling you it’ll be okay.

“Y/N, he’s losing too much blood!”

I know what you’re thinking. Steve Harrington, doing drugs? I’m the good one in all of this. But listen I was with her for years, known her practically my entire life. When you’ve been with the same girl for years and she breaks your heart over a phone call, you tend to hit rock bottom. Well actually the night I found her cuddled up with Eddie the freak Munson, that was my rock bottom. I already felt crazy when she broke up with me over the phone but this. Leaving me for him? Munson? Unimaginable. I don’t remember driving there, or what happened. Robin, the lying bitch, tried to tell me I hit y/n which couldn’t be farther from the truth. I loved that girl, everything about her. She broke my heart. And now I’m just trying to mend the pieces.

I had wanted to get out of town, go to Indy for the weekend, blow off some steam with my boys… but they weren’t available. You know who was? Billy Hargrove. And yeah he was kind of a prick and an unhinged sociopath, but when he saw me that night leaving the liquor store with 2 twelve packs and a carton of cigs, he reached out a lending hand to help end my suffering.

For the past few days Billy and I have been inseparable. Thicker than thieves, more insync than twins. We shared drugs, booze, and even girls. Life: a constant party, That son of a bitch sure is a smooth talker. No more striking out for me with Billy as my wingman. The chicks just flocked to him. I’m not sure if he kept a roll of quarters in the front of his jeans at all times or if he was hung like a race horse but man that guy can pull some serious tail.

Chrissy Cunningham and Nancy Wheeler were our regulars. Both girls sweet as sugar and as sinful as snakes. It started off with Nancy and Billy. And Chrissy and I. Banging another girl other than y/n, was different at first. I had become used to her body, and I don't think I ever got over the fact that she was the same girl who had scraped her knees when she wiped out down the big hill on Cornwall. I loved her dearly, but watching someone grow up before you and then being intimate with them was weird. The sex was great, but I didn’t know what I was missing until Chrissy showed me.

Then the swap happened. In the middle of me fucking Chrissy, Billy throws open the door with Nancy straddling him. He sets her down on the bed and grabs Chrissy, quite literally off of my cock, picks her up bridal style and leaves bringing her into his room. Not a word in the exchange, just a naked Nancy Wheeler sitting on the bed next to me, as my dick is slapped up against my belly from Chrissy previously riding it. Her eyes are glazed and there’s white powder on her tiny nose. I’m too high to figure out what had just happened, I woke up to Nancy sucking me off several hours later. I mean, it could have been seconds I really don’t know. All I know is Jonathan Byers is a fucking idiot for letting her go.

After that first night, I was never with Chrissy again, Nancy and I would sneak off together when Billy and Chrissy got too high and would pass out. Turns out she’s a really sweet girl. She cares a lot about her friends and her family, always making sure Mike and Holly were taken care of before sneaking out to meet us at Billy’s. She has big dreams of getting out of Hawkins and making something of herself. Always giggling about my plans of attending Harvard and starting a family with a bunch of kids. I felt myself growing closer and closer to her and trust me it wasn’t because I was knee deep in her pussy every night.

The night she let her guard down as we lay naked in Max’s bed, and told me that she was uncomfortable and scared of doing the drugs Billy brought us, she was the first to stop— cold turkey. That’s the thing about Nancy, one she has her mind set on something— boom that’s it. She just acted drunk and high to not upset Billy. When he was upset, all hell broke loose. Thankfully I was never on the receiving end of that rage, but I’ve witnessed it.

He busted the windows out in the living room when Max said she was afraid to stay at her own house, tears streaming down her face as Lucas held her back from slapping Billy. He picked up that kitchen chair and hurled it across the room, shattering the glass. Max screaming as Lucas held her close and left with her. I was so messed up when he did it I didn’t even notice, just felt the breeze on my face. Nancy told me about it later as she laid in my arms and sobbed. Holding her close and twirling her brown mousy hair between my fingers, I promised her we would get out of this situation. And I meant it. Every word. I just didn’t know how to do it. I tried to cut back without Billy noticing but the night sweats and rolling tire feeling in my stomach made it difficult. I yearned for the secret time with Nancy. She was a little goddess, perched up on my shoulder telling me to be a good boy. Okay— I might have hallucinated that last one.

Lastnight was the 4th of July and while Chrissy and Billy were fucking like wild animals in his car for the 3rd time, Nancy was sitting in my lap as we laid back in a lawn chair watching the fire works over Lover’s Lake. I was withdrawing like mad, sweating profusely and pissy. But Nancy insisted we look at the fireworks to “take our minds off of things.”

As I watched the black abyss sprinkle with green and red as the fireworks exploded overhead, tears fell from my eyes. How the fuck did I end up like this?! Spending the Fourth of July trying to come down from a drug addiction to which I didn’t even know which drugs I am taking. I didn’t recognize myself, didn’t recognize the man I was becoming. Nancy noticed me crying and whispered sweetly into my ear. Telling me that she would get us out, out from under Billy’s thumb and toxicity. She looked deep into my eyes and held me tightly. Running her small delicate fingers through my hair, reassuring me that everything would be okay.

But it wasn’t.

The next morning she was gone. She left me like y/n did. Dropped like the butt of a cigarette onto the dirty, shit covered sidewalk. Clearly her wanting us to get out only meant herself. She would probably go back to Jonathan. He was stable. Weird and smelled like Fritos, but stable. Who was I? Not the King of Hawkins High anymore, just druggie Steve. I stumble out of Max’s room and snort the first line I see. I can’t handle the pain of losing two incredible girls in a five day span. Not like this.

Kicking around the beer cans as I walk into the bathroom I find a bottle of pills that belong to Max’s mom. Emptying the contents from the bottle into my hands I pop them into my mouth, chasing them down with a lukewarm beer discarded on the back of the toilet. Fuck feelings, fuck trying to get better, I don’t need this shit and I don’t need them. Shooting the beer can into the tub, I turn and catch a glance at myself in the mirror. The bags under my eyes make me look like Robin tried to do my makeup while I was passed out. My hair, oh my God my beloved hair, is a mess. I look rough. But not in a bad boy way like a I’ve-been-on-a-bender-from-a-broken-heart way. Like I was drug behind a car.

The high hits me as I trip over the rug into the bathroom. I notice a blurry Billy and Chrissy fucking on the couch as he smoked from a weird looking pipe. I grab Chrissy from Billy, just as he did to me, and walk with her into my room, she slides down my body and unzips my jeans, warm hands wrap around my cock as I close my eyes, letting the tears fall as my heart aches for one girl, Nancy.

Imagine my surprise when I’m woken up by Nancy yanking me upwards and forcing water her fingers down my throat. I hurl all over the dirty, fucked stain sheets that make up Max’s old bed. She’s shoving a plastic cup that smells like rotten ass into my face and saying “drink” to me as she looks around the room for something.

“Nancy, is that you? Fuck I thought you left me I thought I was never going to see you again.”

“It is me and no, Steve I’m here, we all are; Y/N, Mike Dustin, Eddie, Robin—we’re taking you out of here— tonight.” Nancy is gathering whatever small items of clothing that both of us have scattered across this hell hole of a room and throwing them into a bag. She looks good, obviously she is clean and sober. She walks past me in a rush and I smell her sweet perfume. I can’t rewind what she said but I’m pretty sure she said y/n was here.

“Y/n is here?” I scratch my head and look around, “here at Billy’s?”

“Yes,” she whispers, “now hurry up we have to go!” Nancy sits beside me on the bed, she wiggles her small frame underneath my armpit and puts a small arm around my waist as she tries to stand up with me. My body feels like it is made of jello, I can’t stand for the life of me. “Fuck, this isn’t going to work, hang on.. Dustin!”

Henderson emerges from the hallway like a herd of bison, he’s sweating nervously as he runs to me hugging me tightly and knocking whatever energy I had gained seeing Nancy, right back out of me. “Steve! Fuck man you look like shit!”

Always the charmer, “thanks man,” I smile and rub his stupid cap into his head.

“Dustin, help me— I can’t lift him by myself.” Nancy says sternly.

Being drug along by two people who are both smaller and significantly shorter than I am is probably the highlight of my summer. I’m having a great time. Staggering into the living room Robin has her hand to her lips in a shushing motion using the other to point to Billy and Chrissy both passed out. A quick scan of the room shows Eddie and Robin standing by the door, Mike is holding a giant duffel bag. Y/N is nowhere to be seen.

We are so close to the door and to the new found freedom of being with Nancy Wheeler. What happened next is something that I’ve only seen in a movie. Mike let’s loose a deafening sneeze. Everyone holds their breath as Billy stirs on the couch. Inching closer and closer towards the door, Mike does it again. This time wakening Billy. One glance around the room and Billy is on his feet wielding a pistol around that he kept tucked into the couch. His eyes crazed as they narrow in on Eddie. For some reason, they have hated each other since Billy plagued Hawkins with his presence. As if they’re both equally trying to out trash one another. Like two raccoons fighting over the same dumpster to breed in.

Billy is screaming at Eddie. “What the fuck are you doing here dirtbag?!”

“Look, we came here for Steve,” Eddie says with his hands held up in defense, “swear to God man that’s it.”

“Don’t fuck with me Munson, you’re here to steal my stash to make a quick buck right?” Billy says gliding his tongue over his teeth in a sick demonic manner pointing the gun at Eddie and lowering the hammer.

Mike steps up to his full height putting on a brace face.“It doesn’t have to be this way man, we just want to take Steve and we will be leaving, I swear!”

So this was Nancy’s plan? Gather the troops and smuggle me out of here?

“You don’t get it Wheeler! You broke into my house and me? I’m just defending myself.” Billy laughs maniacally.

There’s no way out, I’m going to be stuck here if Billy doesn’t kill us all first. Dustin is shaking below me, Robin has tears in her eyes and looks like she’s going to collapse.

Nancy is surprisingly calm, fuck is she high right now? Did they smoke on the way over here?! Without me? Goddamnit.

“Just let us go, I will give you whatever you want man, I got a whole duffel bag full of weed, no charge just take it!” Eddie said calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.

Nancy reaches behind back to her waist and fumbles around. Really? You got an itch that bad right now?

“Oh, Fuck off Munson,” Billy sneers, “You’re not worth the cost of the bullet but, fuck it.”

Eddie hates guns, being traumatized as a child by watching his dad pistol whip his mom over a fucking NASCAR race did it for him. Having a gun pulled on him by a sociopath? That’s a new kind of trauma all together. But he would do it for her. He would take a bullet for his girl if it meant that her and her friends were safe.

He has never wondered what it would be like to die. Never thought of how the funeral would go or who would show up. The only two things on Eddie’s mind as Billy points the gun at him are you and Wayne. You, being so special to him and so caring and loving towards him in the short amount of time you have known each other. He’s convinced that no one past, present, or future was better for him than you. His twinflame. He hoped that Steve would sober up for you, and you could continue where you left off, in love and sticking to the plan that your parents carved out for you. He anticipated that you would be happy, thinking of the short but intense time you had with him. There were so many things he hadn’t done yet with you. Taken you on a date, brought you to some God awful cheesy ass town to an amusement park, showed you the lyrics he was secretly writing down about you while you slept. It was all going to come to an end so fast and he wasn’t ready to let you go.

Wayne, the only constant stable thing in his life since he can remember. Always giving him what he needed and kicking himself in the ass for not doing more. Working graveyard shift like a goddamn dog just to provide for him. How would he pay for the funeral? How would he be able to cope with this loss since he’s lost so much already? Eddie tried to tuck that thought away as he closed his eyes in anticipation of being shot.

But nothing happened.

I can’t believe she did it again. Nancy Wheeler surprised me every day that we’ve been together. When Nancy was reaching behind her back, she wasn’t scratching, she was pulling out a gun. And just like the snap of a finger, she Annie Oaklied the fuck out of Billy. Fuck Buffalo Bill and the Wild West show. Nancy goddamn Wheeler needed her own slot on daytime television.

Billy fell back like a stack of bricks, startling Chrissy out of her drugged out stage and she started screaming. Mike struggled the gun out of Billy’s hand as he laid on the ground. Y/n came rushing into the living room from the front door, grabbing ahold of Eddie and refusing to let go of him. I grabbed Nancy and sat down with her on the ground holding her as she cried. I can’t believe she just fucking shot Billy like it was nothing, give this girl a purple heart she’s a goddamn hero. Nancy’s crying turned into full out sobs and I cried with her, thankful that she was okay and happy that it all seemed to be over.

——

Eddie’s hands are entangled in your hair as he stares intently into your eyes. “I’m okay baby, look I’m okay!” He’s pleading with you to help you understand.

When the gun went off you thought for sure Eddie was a dead man. Silently begging God to have the bullet magically hit you instead of him. But neither happened. Nobody had noticed Nancy pulling out a gun behind her back, nobody saw her fire at Billy. It was a complete and utter shock to see him hit the ground instead of Eddie.

The red lights of the ambulance and the whine of the sirens fill the streets of Cherry Lane. Dustin is still instructing everyone on what to do. Eddie helps you out to the van opening the back of it so he could sit with you and wait. Eddie points out Chief Hopper as he climbs out of his Blazer. He shakes his head as he lights another cigarette with the end of the one he’s already had in his mouth.

“You, and you.” He says pointing to Nancy and Dustin. “Explain what the hell is going on.”

Nancy goes into a long winded explanation of the events that unfolded that night. She explained that everyone was there to help Steve and do an intervention. Billy pulled a gun and she shot him point blank. Hopper drags his hands down his face and the worry lines already set deep in his face twitch with disappointment. “Alright Wheeler I’m going to need you to come with me to get your statement, Harrington, you too. The rest of you go the hell home and stay there, and for god sakes take that girl to the hospital she needs some help and some goddamn clothes.”

Robin, Mike and Dustin follow you and Eddie back to his place. Hungry, and trauma induced tiredness plagued everyone’s mind. Eddie told everyone that they could sleep over; they could either sleep on the floor of his room or the van. They all trudge inside groaning and wiping their eyes like tired toddlers marching to a nap. Eddie pulls you back and always against the van. Holding you by your shoulders at length. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” There were no tears left to cry as you tucked yourself into the crook of Eddie’s neck. Breathing him in suffocating yourself on his scent. What a wild fucking night it had been. Eddies gig, shower sex, and saving Steve all in one night was enough to have you sleeping for days.

“I’m fine, exhausted beyond belief, but I’m okay. I’m just happy you’re safe. And that Steve is too. Nancy really seems to care for him doesn’t she?”

Eddie thought for a minute, “she does. I’m just confused because I saw her with Byers, and then with Billy… and now she’s with Steve?”

You let out a small laugh, “I guess she wanted to experience life a little bit too.”

Taglist: @boomhauer @b-irock @big-ope-vibes @sidthedollface2 @syrennna @manda-panda-monium @creoleguurl @idkidknemore @munson-blurbs @munsonficdump @gathered-moss

If I forgot anyone let me know!!

[pparkerpoetry]

Face Reality (Part 12)

Title: Secrets Fester (but they aren’t the only things that grow)

Summary: Tommy's hybrid half urges him to seek out his family. Sam is hiding something, but they don't know what. Tubbo learns about a part of himself he didn't know existed and is reminded of his past.

Part One

Part Thirteen

Masterlist

___________

Tommy woke up last a few days later to a soft trilling in the corners of his mind. He groaned- it was his turn for a thin day, apparently. He wasn’t surprised, he’d read that families tended to group their days close together. 

 He sat up and sighed. His thin days were always embarrassing, his stupid little bird brain always wanted to spend time with his family, and constantly wanted cuddles. Tommy didn’t want cuddles.

 Yes you do.

 Tommy huffed. No, he didn’t want cuddles. He wanted to get through the day without getting teased. Maybe he could just stay in his room all day. Yes, that was a good idea.

 Make a nest? His mind asked, getting excited.

 He rolled his eyes. Okay, maybe he could make a nest. That was relatively normal, right? His hands moved to grasp the blankets and shape them into a sort of circling wall, with enough space in the middle for him to curl up underneath his wings. He ignored the happy cooing that his mind wanted to release- he couldn’t just chirp and trill, that’d bring noise, and noise meant someone coming in, which meant embarrassment. He didn’t want that.

 Flock, The bird in him trilled sadly. Where’s your flock?

 “Busy,” Tommy grumbled, moving a wing to cover his face. “So shut the fuck up.”

 He stayed there, keeping the sounds at bay, for a long time. Too long.

 There was a knock at the door. “Hey, Tommy?” Ranboo asked. “Are you alright? It’s almost noon, and you never sleep in this long.”

 Tommy opened his mouth to say he was fine, but a distressed chirp escaped instead. He winced, hoping Ranboo didn’t hear it.

 “Uh, pardon?” Ranboo chuckled a little. “Can I come in?”

 He wanted to say no. But the part that wanted to say no was overpowered by his bird brain. Literally. “Yes.” He sighed reluctantly.

 When he walked in, Ranboo immediately spoke. “Aww, Tommy, is it a thin day?”

 He nodded miserably, forgetting that his wing was covering his face. 

 “Aw, Tommy, come on, most of us are in the living room.”

 His stupid bird sounds made him give out a happy trill, and then he cut it off with a grumble. “They’re gonna tease me.”

 Flock? Flock? 

 Ranboo lifted Tommy’s wing and stared at his face. “If I make them promise you aren’t going to say anything, will you come out? It’s not healthy to suppress this.”

 Tommy sighed. “Fine. But they need to promise to not take any photos for blackmail.”

 Ranboo left the room, which his mind didn’t like, but he sucked it up. Eventually, Ranboo came back and beckoned Tommy to follow him.

 When they got to the living room, he frowned. “Where’s Dad?”

 Flock? Where is the flock? Why is it not complete?

 “Prison.” Purpled sighed. “Something about making sure the prisoner didn’t die.”

 “That’s okay though,” Tubbo smiled. “We’re here! We’re enough, right?”

 Tommy’s frown deepened. “I guess.” He went over and flopped on top of whoever was on the couch. He wasn’t sure who, but someone started preening his wings and he let out a happy sigh that morphed into a purr. 

 All of them remained close to the living room for most of the morning, taking turns being near Tommy since his body radiated warmth and the house tended to be a bit colder (which didn’t make a whole lot of sense, since Sam liked warmth, but..). 

 Sam came back a little after lunch. 

 “What took you so long?” Fundy drawled, head hanging off of the couch and feet dangling over the back. “You got a secret girlfriend?”

 Sam had been drinking some water, and nearly spit it out. He was content to stick with choking on it, instead. “No,” He said weakly. “Nope, no girlfriend here. I just had a weird conversation with Dream and had to think about it a bit.”

 Everyone squinted at Sam for a moment, but Tommy interrupted by barreling into him. “Hi, dad.”

 “Hey, Tommy,” Sam smiled. “Your turn, huh?”

 Tommy chirped a bit, burrowing his head into Sam’s chest and letting his wings circle them both.

 “Who’s the clingy one now?” Tubbo mused from a chair. “Hint, it’s not me.”

 ________

 Sam was having an odd day. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’d gone to the prison, but Dream was being weird.

________

 “So, how’d those hybrid hunters end up?” Dream asked nonchalantly. 

 Sam turned. He was just about to leave, but… “You knew they were coming? And you didn’t warn us? I have the emergency contact button for a reason, Dream.”

 Dream chuckled. “I knew you wouldn’t have your device on, since you exploded, and well, I couldn’t be bothered to reach anyone else by now. Haven’t you learned, Sam, that I just don’t care?”

 Sam glared at him. “You’re lucky my boys took care of them. Tubbo and Purpled could’ve been killed, since humans are no use to the hunters.”

 “Humans?” Dream laughed again, before realizing Sam was serious. “Sam, no one on this server is completely human. I made sure of it.”

 “What?” Sam shook his head. “You’re saying they’re hybrids, too?”

 Dream was quiet. “I’ve already helped you enough. I think you’ve gotta give me something in return, if you want more.”

 “Alright. Be like that, then. See you next week.” Sam sighed, leaving the prison. His brain was muddled with thoughts.

 When were Tubbo and Purpled going to show their true colors? What hybrids were they? Was Dream even telling the truth?

 __________

 And, well… He took a detour before he got home, sure, but he hadn’t been lying when he said he didn’t have a girlfriend… but it felt weird keeping a secret, even if he’d been keeping it for a while.

 He had Tommy to think about before tonight… would he be able to leave the house? Tommy seemed pretty attached. 

 The day went by okay after he got home, to be fair. There was one incident where Tommy tried to get on top of the fridge to divebomb everyone since he was too tired to fly up, but Sam got him down. 

 Having a relatively tame Tommy was a nice change, but it was odd. Sam kinda wanted his energised son back, even if he was a little annoying at times. 

 At any rate, he’d made some half put together excuse as to why he needed to leave for the night, and planned on leaving through a hidden back door connected to his room once he was ready. He looked in the mirror and scrunched his face up. He hated wearing suits. He was more a sweatshirt type of guy, or he wore his mask when he was working, but never suits. Why was he doing this again?

 He patted down his- jacket? He wasn’t sure what it was called, but he straightened it (some part of his brain snorted at that), then fiddled with his tie.

 The door burst open before he could stop it, and then it was just Sam, in a fancy suit, staring at Tommy, both looking like deer in headlights.

 “Where you going, big man?” Tommy asked, less clingy than this morning as his human side was taking back more control. 

 Sam winced. He couldn’t lie to Tommy, even if he wanted to. Not directly. “I’ve uh, I’ve got a date.”

 Tommy lit up. “No kidding? Who’s the lucky lady?”

 “I’m gonna refrain from answering that.” Sam chuckled nervously. “Are you going to be alright while I’m gone?”

 “Are you crazy? We gotta tell the others so we can hype you up, and then we’re gonna meet our new mom!” (Sam didn’t know it, but Tommy’s mind was spamming flock)

 Sam’s eyes widened. “No, no, no, Tommy, I don’t think that’s a good idea-”

 It was too late. Tommy had already run down the hall, and Sam barely had time to sit down on his bed before the entire herd of his sons came barreling back, outraged that Sam had kept such a momentous secret from them.

 “Are you nervous?” Tubbo asked, towards the back of the group.

 Sam shrugged, “I mean, yeah, but-”

 Fundy grinned. “It’s gonna go great, dad. You’ve got nothing to worry about, she’s going to love you.”

 Sam cringed, “I, uh, I’m sure she will?”

 “Yeah! That’s the spirit!” Tommy cheered. “On the other hand, can we go meet her? I promise we won’t be weird.”

 “Can you promise that?” Ranboo teased. “But yeah, can we?”

 Sam sighed. “I mean, I guess,”

 “Do we have to put on suits?” Purpled complained, “Cause if we have to, I don’t wanna go.”

 “No,” Sam said, putting his head into his hands. “You don’t have to put on a suit.”

 “Hey hey hey,” Tommy said, sitting next to Sam on his bed, “Now is not the time to be sad. You are going on a date with a woman, and that is Pogchamp. Now is a time to celebrate. Let’s go, you’re going to be late, and you can’t be late if you’re going to absolutely win her over like I know you are.”

 “Thank guys,” Sam said, and he meant it a little. Now he had something to worry about other than his date. “You’re right, let’s go.”

 It was… an interesting walk. His boys were hyping him up, which he appreciated, but he was nervous. He had been hoping to wait a little longer to tell them. Of course they found out on one of his only dates after he’d adopted them all.

 Finally, after a stroll through the woods, they arrived at the place: a lovely little clearing with fairy lights that shone and twinkled as the sun set with a table in the center set in the middle. There was food, and candles, and it was all very romantic, but the boys weren’t focused on that. They were focused on the person who was standing by the table, in a suit, rose in hand.

 Purpled was the first one to speak. “Ponk?” He stepped closer and fell into a hug from the man who was, indeed, Ponk. “Is this really you?”

 “Yeah, Purp. It’s me. I’m sorry you had to go through all that you did alone.” Ponk said, surprisingly softly. “I wanted to see you, but Sam told me to let you heal a bit, first.”

 “Bitch.” Purpled said, but it was clear he was trying not to cry. “I missed you.”

 “I missed you, too. I thought you would’ve come to see me earlier.”

 Purpled shook his head, refusing to leave Ponk’s hug. “How could I? We just found out you guys were a thing today, I was too scared to visit you otherwise.”

 Ponk turned to Sam with an exasperated look. “Sam, I thought you said you were gonna tell them!”

 “Well, I had every intention to,” Sam said defensively, “but everyone kept getting hurt and it never seemed like the right time.”

 “Wait,” Tommy butted in, “How long have you guys been dating? I thought this was like, a first date type thing and that’s why he was so nervous.”

 “Aw, Sam! You were nervous?”

 Sam, in question, flushed a little. “I mean, how could I not be? You’re so amazing and all, I-”

 “How long?” Tommy asked loudly. “You aren’t answering my questions, and they need answering! Now!”

 “Well,” Ponk winced, “Sammy, you answer it. They should hear it from you.”

 “What do you mean we should hear it from Sam?” Tubbo asked. “How long has this been going on?”

 Purpled squinted at Ponk. “And why don’t you want to answer?”

 “A little over a year and a half.” Sam blurted out, and all eyes turned to him.

 “What?” Tommy cried out. “And we didn’t know? You’re our dad, you’re supposed to tell us these things!”

 Sam was at a loss for words. “I didn’t know you guys cared about my love life?” He tried as a weak response.

 “Of course we care,” Fundy argued. “We always care, and that’s why we came here to make sure that whoever you were dating was fit to be our other parent. We just… weren’t expecting Ponk.”

 “Who were you expecting?” Ponk asked, confused. 

 “Well, Tommy thought it was a girl.” Tubbo said, and Tommy tried to deny it.

 “You thought-” Ponk laughed. “You thought Sam was dating a girl?”

 “Sam didn’t say he wasn’t!” Tommy protested.

 It was quiet a moment longer, until Ponk interrupted it, arms still around Purpled. “Wait, Sam, your love life? You love me?”

 All eyes turned to Sam as he blushed furiously and scratched at the back of his head. “Well, I mean, you’re really funny and your smile is really cute, and I really like spending time with you…”

 Tommy glanced from Sam to Ponk, both blushing and looking at the ground bashfully, and groaned. “Oh, my god! We get it, you’re in love! Get a room.”

 The two adults both spluttered, trying to get a response, before Tommy spoke again. “Go ahead, say ‘i love you’ and all that gross mushy stuff. Pretend we’re not even here. I swear, we’re not gonna say anything. Just go for it.”

 “I mean,” Sam started, looking up at Ponk, “if you want to, of course I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, or anything...”

 “I love you.” Ponk blurted out.

 “I love you, too.” Sam responded breathlessly. “A lot. Like, probably too much.”

 Ponk hid his face a little, and held out his hand. “I, um, I got you a rose,” 

 “I saw. You’re adorable.”

 It was quiet, and Ranboo coughed a little. “C’mon, guys, they probably want us to leave. It’s their date, after all.”

 “Do we have to?” Purpled asked, “This is more entertaining than any movie we’ve watched, I wanna keep making them embarrassed.”

 “I agree with Ranboo,” Tommy said, “We should probably go. However, I also agree with Purp, because I want to stay.”

 Ponk shrugged. “I mean, I can woo Sammy here another day if you all wanna just go watch a movie, or something. Sam? You alright with that?”

 Sam had to admit he'd wanted a nice night with just him and Ponk, but part of his mind was worried for Tommy, since he was still going through a thin day. “Sure, I guess we can watch a movie tonight and do something else later.”

 So, they all walked back to Sam’s base, boys in front, politely pretending that they didn’t notice Sam and Ponk holding hands in the back. They didn’t want to notice it. They also pretended to not notice the little sweet whispers that the two exchanged, and the boys were starting to regret their decision to not leave the two alone.

 Despite that, they all watched a movie, huddled in a nest that Tommy had made. He stretched his wings around those that he could, but ultimately was content to just huddle up against Sam and sleep, instead of watching the movie. 

 Sam was curled up next to Ponk, which was a little odd considering the height difference, but they made it work. Sam wasn’t sure where the rest of his boys were in the nest.

 At some point that night, once it was late and it was just him and Ponk awake, he felt Ponk shift. 

 “Where are you going?” Sam asked sleepily, clutching the sweatshirt that he’d let Ponk borrow. “Why are you leaving?”

 “It’s late,” Ponk whispered. “I need to get home.”

 “No,” Sam pouted. “I don’t want you to go home. You should stay here for the night.”

 “I appreciate it, Sammy, but I really-”

 “I almost died a few days ago and you’re not going to do what I want?” Sam murmured, waking up slightly. 

 “Oh, Sam,” Ponk said, sadness weighing his voice down. “Don’t joke about that. You worried me, when you didn’t talk to me for a week, then I found out from Tubbo that the hunters were back. I was so worried that I’d get there too late, and you’d be gone. Hell, before I found out, I thought you were breaking up with me.”

 “I’d never do that. Don’t be sad.” Sam said tiredly, but Ponk wasn’t done.

 “And then, and then I found out this morning that you’d gone against some, some fucking god, and you won, and you’d adopted Purpled, and I found out all the shit that he’d gone through and how you reacted, and I’m scared.”

 “Of what? I’ll protect you, Ponkie.”

 “I’m scared that one day you’ll go up against some big bad villain and you won’t make it out alive, Sammy. You take on so much, and what if I can’t help you?”

 Sam looked up, and saw that Ponk was crying softly. “Oh, Ponk. I’m always going to come back, because I have a reason to. I’ve got you to come back to, I’ve got my boys. I’ll fight with everything I’ve got to make it out alive.”

 “But what if that isn't enough?” Ponk stressed. “I joke all the time, and I mess around, but I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you.”

 “You won’t.” Sam assured him, pulling Ponk back into a hug. “Stay the night?” He asked again.

 “Okay,” Ponk relented, sniffling. “But I’ve got to go home in the morning. Are you going to let me go?”

 Sam smiled sleepily and pulled Ponk closer, burying his head in his shoulder. “No promises. I love you.”

 “I love you too, you big sap.”

 _______

 Tubbo woke up last the next morning. His head hurt, like he had a headache, and his mouth was dry. He wasn’t aware that he’d woken up last, as he was still curled up in the nest and didn’t really want to do… anything. His head hurt too much.

 He let out a little whine, burrowing his head into the blankets as the light hit his face.

 “Tubbo? You up, man?” Who was that? That was Tommy, right?

 “Tommy?” He murmured. “My head hurts.”

 The voice chuckled. “Not Tommy. I’m Ranboo. I dunno, you need an advil, or something?”

 “I don’t know,” Tubbo groaned. “Make it stop.”

 He heard a slight humming. “Maybe I should go get Sam.”

 “No,” Tubbo pouted, curling up even more. “Get Tommy. I want Tommy.”

 Footsteps echoed away from him, and Tubbo moved one of his arms under his head. His fingers brushed against his ear, and-

 “What?” He sat up, poking at the back of his ear, momentarily blocking out the pain of his head. “What?”

 Sam walked into the room, “What d’you mean? Anything wrong? Ranboo said your head hurt, or something.”

 “Sam,” Tubbo started, hands still covering his ears. “Why am I growing fur?”

 A look of sudden surprise was painted across Sam’s face before it settled on a grimace. “Well, Tubbo, you’re a hybrid.”

 Tubbo looked up quickly, wincing at the pounding in his head. “I’m a hybrid? How do you know?”

 “When I visited Dream he mentioned it,” Sam mumbled a bit, before speaking a little louder. “Anyway, it’s probably going to hurt. I’ll send someone to go grab Tommy, since most of us were born with our hybrid features rather than growing them.”

 Tubbo thought Sam spoke more, but he wasn’t listening. His head was still hurting, and the pain was still increasing. He wanted Tommy. He missed Tommy, where was he?

 How had he gotten on the couch? Was he crying? Oh. His head hurt a lot. “Tommy?” He sniffled, too far gone to hate how vulnerable his voice was.

 “I’m here, Tubs. I’m here.”

 “What’s going on?” He managed, trying to turn to his side but yelping when the pain spiked.

 “You’re probably growing something.” Tommy said nonchalantly, putting a hand into Tubbo’s hair. 

 Tommy’s hands put pressure on the side of his head. “Ow,” Tubbo cried, and Tommy rushed an apology. It was quiet for a moment. “What am I growing?”

 “I can’t tell yet.” Tommy hesitated. “Your ears look pretty cool, though. They’ve gotten all long and furry.”

 “My ears are furry?” Tubbo didn’t quite catch Tommy’s reply as he fell asleep despite the pounding in his head.

 _________

 The next time Tubbo woke up, he was alone. He was still on the couch, but daylight streamed through the windows and the house was silent. Where was everyone?

 His head felt much better, but his mouth was still dry, so he pried himself off of the blankets and padded into the kitchen for a glass of water. He turned the faucet on and yawned as the water poured out, reaching up to scratch his head.

 His hand hit something smooth and solid, right above his ear.

 Tubbo turned off the faucet as his eyebrows furrowed, walking over to the bathroom, glass still in his clutches. No one was in the halls, and he frowned as he pushed the bathroom door open. 

 His gaze raised to the mirror, and the glass slipped from his fingers to shatter on the ground. He didn’t register the water that soaked through his socks, but he stared, unblinking, as his eyes filled with tears. He stumbled backwards, yelping as he fell into the tub and sobs racked his body.

 “Tubbo?” Tommy’s voice called from down the hall. “I heard a crash, are you alright?” The voice got louder and Tubbo’s cries did, too. Tommy’s head popped through the door frame. “Tubbo?”

 In the corner of the shower, Tubbo was huddling with his legs pressed against his chest and head ducked down. When he spoke, it came out soft and trembling. “We promised.”

 “What?” Tommy started, but was cut off by Tubbo.

 “We promised that you wouldn’t be the next Wilbur, and I wouldn’t be the next Schlatt.”

 “Yeah?” Tommy said, tilting his head, crouching down in front of Tubbo and holding his hands out, palms up. “And we kept it. We’re fine, okay? We’re safe, and nothing is going to happen. Let’s get clean-”

 “Then why have I grown horns?” Tubbo cried, tears streaming down his face. “I was finally able to move on, and now I’ve got a permanent reminder of him. He promised he wasn’t my father, Tommy, but what if he really did lie about everything?”

 “Oh, Tubbo.” Tommy said softly. “Schlatt’s not your father.”

 “How can you be sure?” Tubbo asked, but he moved into Tommy’s arm for a hug. His chin rested on Tommy’s shoulder.

 “Because,” Tommy reasoned, “Your horns aren’t the same. His curved around his ears, right? Yours stick up a little. And your ears!” Tommy smiled, and lightly flicked one of Tubbo’s ears. “You’ve got some yellow fur growing. I’d bet good money that you’re a moobloom.”

 “You bet good money for stupid reasons, though, Tommy.” Tubbo murmured, falling asleep again as Tommy’s wings wrapped around him.

 Tommy went to reply, but Tubbo had fallen asleep. “You’re lucky that you’re my best friend, bitch.” He grumbled, picking up Tubbo to move him to the couch again. He’d clean up the bathroom too, but Tubbo was more important.

 His best friend was more important.

 Family was more important.

 More important than anything.

[maribabyart]

Do you have any Demon Martha headcanons? How do you think her reunion with Mrs. Mayberry (The teacher who paid for her assassination) in hell would go?

 OK YES I HAVE HEADCANONS FOR THIS HERE WE GO --

MARTHA HEADCANONS <3

So, I’m gonna start with her before she died so I can fully get into why every part of her is the way she is as a demon.

Martha is light skinned Latina woman with family coming from Venezuela. Her mother has a much darker skin tone than her, but her father is far more light-skinned, where she gets her complexion from. While she was raised in America, her parents were immigrants. She was born at home, and she didn’t get a birth certificate until she was four, the year before she started schooling.

She has three older brothers. They were very rambunctious with Martha as a child, pulling pranks on her/with her, taking her hunting, etc.

She was raised out on a farm in the middle of a forested area in Kentucky. They raised cattle, sheep, chickens, and horses. Martha’s main job on the farm was to groom/ride horses and feed chickens.

She learned her sharp-shooter skills in a more intense version of something like 4H unique to her area. She was fantastic with a bow and arrow, and even better with her firearms.

Cannibalism was normalized in Martha’s life from a young age. She knew that it must be kept secret from the outside world, and that it wasn’t accepted. However, it wasn’t something she found to be horrid.

Her family -- and their close friends -- came from a long lineage of Satanic cultists that practiced cannibalism to purge any bit of, “soul” remaining in the corpses of their sacrifices. Due to this, Martha had evolved to be able to be immune to the ill side effects of cannibalism, along with the ability to not feel repulsed by the idea of eating human meat.

Her favorite part of the body growing up was the brain, and it still is to this day. She loves the frontal lobe slathered in spices and hot sauce.

She began her cultish killings at age fourteen, when she officially joined the cult of her family’s descent -- Compañerismo de la Fruta Prohibida (Fellowship of the Forbidden Fruit, a refrence to their following of Lucifer)

Martha didn’t love Raphael Peterson, or, “Ralphie”. She was married of to him at age sixteen, when she became a, “Woman” in the cult’s eyes. They were both meant to appear as an ideal couple so that people wouldn’t suspect them, as their parents before them have.

Ralph and Martha always saw each other as friends with benefits.

They moved to Dayton, Tennessee to start their family when they turned eighteen.

In Nashville, Martha started singing to music her husband played in Taverns. Think Dolly Parton style music. She sounded a lot like that.

Their first child was born when Martha was eighteen: Their daughter, Jolene Peterson. Two years later, they had their son, Beau Peterson.

Martha was always really involved with her kids’ school activities, and she was always volunteering to work events, and her kids were in every activity they could be.

She used her physical attractiveness to seduce and kill men.

While sex favorable, Martha is on the aspec -- greysexual (sexual pleasure is irrelevant to her, and she only engages in it to appease her partner generally. She only finds sexual attraction in people while in the act.) Because of this fact, Martha only has affairs for the sake of gaining trust to bring the men home so they can be killed and eaten.

When Martha was shot, the community villainized Mrs. Mayberry because the town darling, Martha Jane Nunez Robles-Peterson, would NEVER cheat, right? The situation was misread: Martha was just talking to Jarold Mayberry that night about t-ball-related things, right? He WAS the the little league captain for her 6-year-old-son’s league, wasn’t he?

Martha was gifted millions by the community, and people were insanely supportive of her. They wanted the sweet Martha they, “knew” to get better soon. They loved her so -- such a darling woman!

Her music became more well known, and soon, Martha was all over TV. Her big musical break came from when she auditioned for American Idol and made it. Her sob-story propelled her, and she eventually won.

Martha was a hero to everyone around her -- surviving a traumatic event that was uncalled for, while also being so damn chipper and kind.

Hell, did you guys see the background in one of those scenes?! Martha was canonly proclaimed a SAINT! People loved her that much.

She used the public trust to lure in more victims and never be suspected.

Martha was 28 when she died. Ralphie was 28 as well. Jolene was 10, and Beau was 8.

Ralphie managed to survive the explosion, albeit he was completely paralyzed, and the two children went to heaven. Ralphie repented during his last month alive, and confessed to his crimes. He was sent to heaven as well.

Martha and the children were declared to have died in a bear attack, as Compañerismo de la Fruta Prohibida covered up their true demise with ease.

People were heart broken -- Martha’s music was used in sad collages on Youtube, Tik Toks had Martha’s face in them for memorials.

No one ever realized her crimes.

Now! As a demon....

In hell, Martha picked up the alias Hero -- it’s what she was in life, right? I’ll be calling her Hero from now on.

Hero is both different and similar to how she was when she was alive. She’s still the got her kind-hearted, southern mama vibe going for her: She tends to be able to fit into any demonic crowd well, either by attractiveness or by sheer, overwhelming allure -- she’s a very magnetic personality.

As far as powers go, Hero’s are mostly related to firearms. She’s acquired these powers through deal making and soul dealing, as most demons do. Her charming aura very quickly lure people into thinking she’s naive or really just being honest with them.

Her nails can peel back to allow her to shoot from, “finger guns”. Each finger is a different gun, besides her middle and index fingers. They are both shotguns. Together, they make a double barrel shotgun.

When in full demonic form, Hero’s bandages become sentient. They peel away from her wound, revealing a minigun like weapon in the hole in her head. This can rapid fire while the bandages can grab onto things or hoist Hero up. She can make this last for five minutes -- ten at the longest -- before she gives out to sheer exhaustion and needs to eat demon meat to replenish herself.

Within her first week in hell, she was known to be powerful. Not quite an overlord, but powerful enough to hang around overlords. 

She hit overlord status three months later, during the terf war seen in Hazbin Hotel’s pilot: She took several areas of land, and was seen to have several lesser demons flocking to be on her good side.

Hero used her land to build up a bar and grill that serves strictly demon meat and blood, where demons can play music and dance. It’s like a fucked up country dinner. It’s an insanely popular addition to Cannibal Colony, where she lives.

The place is called La Cocina de la Calle Kuru (The Kuru Street Kitchen)

Hero REALLY wants to get her hands on exterminator tools, but she’s not really a fan of black market deals -- it’s too “trashy” for her.

Hero knows Alastor pretty well, as he’s came in for meat and to watch the music. They’ve had pretty decent conversations while she was on break, seeing as they were both influential  southern, cannibalistic serial killers. It’s a running gag between them where they jokingly talk about who was more iconic -- “I bet I took out more belles in a lifetime than you could in your entire afterlife!” “Well hon, at least I could eat the brains without gettin’ Kuru!”

She talks to Rosie a lot about business, and has met Niffty and Mimzy before. (Al hooked a bitch up with some friends lmao)

She REALLY likes Mimzy. She reminds her of Ralphie, and they became super fast friends. 

Vox and Hero have a confusing sort of friendship, as neither really wants to be seen with the other -- In his case, because she’s much lower on the overlord spectrum than him, and in her case, because she’s no stranger to Alastor and Vox’s hatred for one another. However, she often finds herself consoling Vox on sleepless nights after closing up the bar, trying to convince him that Valentino is NOT worth his time. Beyond that and him occasionally paying her back in tech at random hours of the morning, they don’t talk often.

Hero LOVES dancing! Like, a lot.

She’s seen Charlie’s ad for the Happy Hotel. Her and Mimzy watched it, and they both thought it was the stupidest damn thing they’d ever seen. However, Hero said she was happy Charlie got up there, because she was just, “Cute as a button, that lil’ sweatpea was!”

Hero’s best friends are Mimzy and an unnamed demon who specializes in black market, extermination tool selling (the one seen in in Addict -- Cherri Bomb’s former lover).

These two people, and these two people alone, can call her “Martha”

Hero cooks whenever she’s stressed. She also adores sewing and binging soap operas and reality shows on Voxflix.

Hero’s Instagram would be, “HeroicMelodies” in reference to her music career and name.

Hero gets hit on A LOT, and she despises it. She doesn’t need to seduce people anymore to get away with murder, and she doesn’t want to. She dresses the way she does because she LIKES that clothing. People can fuck off.

The reason Hero is white and pink is to show how innocent she looks. Her pitch-black eyes show her dark soul.

Hero sings in Spanish to herself when cleaning up.

Sometimes, Hero and Rosie spend holidays going around with ground demon meat to throw to the hell crows and other critters. They find it peaceful.

Hero, shockingly, holds no hatred for I.M.P., and commonly jokes about how the I.M.P.’s, “Did her a favor” by sending her somewhere she can actually be her. She has no idea who called for the hit, though. 

Hero finds Blitzo’s Instagram posts being poorly spelled to be, “Damn near precious”.

She thinks he’s a teenager, and probably would think it less adorable if she knew he was a grown man with a grown kid.

Hero doesn’t care about Mrs. Mayberry at all. Like, at all. She honestly assumes the woman is in heaven. She knew Mayberry wasn’t bad -- she probably wouldn’t care if she was in hell, though. Oh well. Sucks to suck, bitch.

Husk frequents La Cocina de la Calle Kuru to drink and engage in the gambling scene. Hero finds him trashy, but can’t say she hates him. She finds him funny as hell, and enjoys the business. Just not someone she’d personally hang out with.

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 16

Chapter 16 is here. Ten more and the epilogue and the story is over. I have some lovely moments already written down as drafts and i swear there is a lot of fluff coming.

The wee holiday with Lys and Aedion is almost over. Aelin and Rowan share a powerful moment at Callanish. Then something happens and fate throws them together a bit more. And they finally go on a date.

I hope you will all love it.

Thank you to all who have liked or reblogged my fic. You are amazing.

------

The next morning a sense of sadness descended on the quartet. They had a quiet breakfast, all moping because their small break was over. They checked-out of the cottage a bit later and they made their way to the ferry terminal to go back on Harris and Lewis. Once they were back on the island, Rowan, who was back at the wheel decided to drive them up via the Golden road. He hoped that the beautiful road trip would raise the spirits up a little bit. Even Aelin was a bit down. At one of the junctions Rowan slowed down a lot after a big sign alerting them of possible farm traffic. He hoped they would encounter some. He knew it would definitely cheer up the two women.

His lips curled into a smile when in the distance he spotted a big flock of sheep heading their way. He pulled over the car and relaxed. Lysandra squealed and jumped off the car as it got surrounded by the animals and Aelin joined her a moment later. The smiles where back on their faces and Rowan realised he would do anything to see Aelin with such a bright smile. “It’s like the picture you sent me.” The dark-haired woman exclaimed all excited and took out her phone to take as many pictures as possible. The two men had exited the car as well and were now leaning against the hood and enjoying the view of their happy women. “I guess for you it’s not that unusual.” Commented Aedion admiring Lysandra. “No, they can be daily occurrences for locals.” Then he stared at Aelin “but look at how happy they are.” And his voice had an edge of softness. Aedion noticed Lysandra trying to pet a sheep and laughed. He took a few photo of her. “Thank you for all this.” The man turned to Rowan “Lysandra has suffered quite a lot after Aelin left. I haven’t seen her this happy in a while.” Rowan smiled back at the man and from how he talked about Lysandra he realised he loved the woman deeply. “And I know Aelin is not coming back and on some level Lysandra knows as well but still has to process it.” “Thank you for looking after her.” replied Rowan, his gaze back on Aelin “When she arrived she was a mess. We both were to be honest. But now she is happy.” “I don’t know what magic you pulled man, but I have known Aelin for a very long time and I have never seen her this happy. Not even when she was married to officer asshole.” “She told me about him.” “I swear I had a daily need to punch the bastard. You can’t marry someone and then decide you can only love some parts of her. When you commit to someone you cannot pick and choose which part you love.” Rowan growled. “And the divorce. The bastard had been cheating on her for months. Had lied to her and told her he was working night shifts when he was screwing the detective bitch. He lied, he hurt her in a way that was unspeakable. He crushed her. I offered willingly to help her move to Lys’ place. I wanted her as far way as possible from that son of a bitch.” Rowan was shocked by the ferocity with which Aedion defended Aelin. “And before you ask, no, nothing ever happened between us. She is a very dear friend of mine. I love her like a sister.” Rowan place a hand on Aedion’s shoulder “Thank you.” Was all he said. Once the road was clear again Aelin and Lysandra went back to their men “what were you talking about?” Aelin had noticed the two deep in conversation and she was glad to see that they had become good friends in that few days away. “Aedion was telling me of his time in the RAF.” Aelin smiled and Rowan was happy she believed the little lie.

They continued the drive and they stopped at the small Harris Tweed place Aelin had discovered and Lysandra spent almost a fortune and even bought a present to Aedion as a thank you. Eventually they crossed back into Lewis and Rowan took the road to Callanish and Aelin was giddy. That was her favourite place. Once they got there they noticed there were only a few tourists. Aelin took Lysandra’s hand and guided her friend to the stones while telling her all the info she had absorbed from the book Elias had given her. They guys reached them a moment later and joined them near the stones at the circle. Rowan grabbed Aelin to him and he moved to the centre of the circle. He had imagined the moment he would be at Callanish with her a million times. He knew she loved the place and for him, being pagan and all, the site had a special meaning. Aedion grabbed Lysandra and the two decided to do some exploring on their own and Rowan for a moment was glad as he wanted to have a moment alone with Aelin. He pulled her to his chest and his arms closed around her. “ 's ann leatsa a tha mo chridhe gu brath” he whispered to her ear and Aelin wished he would speak Gaelic more often even if she could not understand him. His voice changed and it made her heart race furiously. He placed her hand on his heart “gu brath.” He said again and kissed her “On this sacred soil I claim you, mo chridhe. 's ann leatsa a tha mo chridhe gu brath.” And she squeezed him as tight as she could. She had no idea what he was saying but she could feel his love. She looked up at him “I claim you Rowan Whitethorn, on this sacred soil I declare my love to you.” She said and felt horrible. She wanted to say something poetic. Something that sounded just as beautiful as what he said, whatever it was, but that’s all she could manage. But he seemed happy, his hands went to her head and caressed it with gentleness and she felt a shift in their relationship. As if they had just taken a step much bigger than having sex a just a level below getting married. His heart raced just as much as hers.

Rowan could not let go of her. He had just told her something powerful in a magical place like Callanish. He felt as if he had just proposed to her. But she was his and he was hers. And he meant what he had said to her. His heart was hers forever. In the past few days he had realised that there was no turning back. This woman had entered his life and now he could not think to exist without her. And he thought about the Runrig song he sang to her on the beach There is no way without you. Lysandra and Aedion came back and for a moment he was annoyed. He wanted a little bit more time with her and Aelin seemed to be of the same opinion when she did not move from her position. “This place is amazing. And I can’t believe is over 5000 years old.” Rowan nodded and then Lysandra announced they were going to the visitor centre because she had to play tourist and buy a fridge magnet. Rowan kissed Aelin’s head who had not moved from her position even when her friends were here. “Are you okay?” She lifted her head and he noticed she was crying. Shit what did he do? “Hey…” with his finger he removed her tears “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” she sobbed “You said something super amazing to me and I replied in a very lousy way and all I wanted to tell is that I love you. I want you in my life. For ever. For always. Because there is no way without you and I can’t think about another day without you at my side.” He kissed her. He lifted her until her feet left the ground and kissed in a way that would tell her that he felt the same way. “Better?” He asked when he put her down and she gave him a grin. “Come, let’s go and buy you your tacky fridge magnet.” And hand in hand they walked to the visitor centre.

Later in the afternoon they reached Butt of Lewis and their last stop in their adventure. At that beautiful place Aelin took Lysandra aside. It was time. After what happened at Callanish with Rowan she knew her decision was now final and there was no turning back for her. Which meant she had to tell her friend. They sat down at the edge of the cliff and Aelin took Lysandra’s hand. “Lys…” Aelin was now staring at the sea that over there was always angry, no matter how calm the wind. “I am not coming back to London. A part from you and Aedion, there is nothing left there for me. I can’t step back in my old life. Not after here. And…” she took a deep breath “I can’t leave Rowan. I don’t want to.” Lysandra smiled at her friend “I knew from the first moment I saw you again.” She replied squeezing the hand back “you were so happy that I knew you’d never come back. Why would you? And when I saw you with Rowan and I had the final proof.” She kissed Aelin’s cheek “I want to be invited at the wedding.” Aelin laughed “you will be the first one to know.” The two women hugged fiercely “I love you.” They said to each other. Half an hour later they were all back in Stornoway and Rowan had dropped them off at Aelin’s place. When it was time to part Aelin felt a sudden pang of sadness. She didn’t want to stay away from Rowan. “Come and say hi if you are in town,” he said to her, hugging her “I’ll miss you.” She was going to spend time with her friends, but Rowan had to go back to the shop and she was going to miss him. “Leave the other women alone, I am your only bookworm.” She felt him grin against her lips. “I’ll behave.”

Two weeks had passed and Lysandra and Aedion had to go back home and Rowan knew Aelin was going to be in a foul mood so he had prepared a task for her to keep her mind off things. He needed a revamp of the sci-fi section and he left the task to her knowing she would love it. She told him she was coming in at nine when he opened but it was past ten and there was no sign of her and he was getting worried. He also had no text or missed calls from her. It was almost eleven when she walked into the shop and he knew something bad had happened. She walked to him and sat down on her chair. “What happened?” She did not reply and instead she gave him a letter which he took and read it. “Are you kidding me?” “Nope.” She replied totally dejected “my landlord is selling the house and I have a month to move out.” She sighed “I spent the morning looking for other places but there is nothing available, unless I want to buy, which at the moment I can’t do. So, yeah I am in deep trouble. If I don’t find anything I am on the street.” “No you are not.” He said to her and turned his gaze to her “I have a spare bedroom. You can stay at my place. My house is big enough for two and for all your books.” Aelin jumped off the chair and into his arms “You are joking.” “Why would I? You need a place where to stay and I have it. Problem solved.” He was being very pragmatic but his heart was racing at the idea. “You will have me around all the time, Rowan. All the time.” “And?” Aelin huffed and lifted her hands “Just checking that you are sure of what you are getting into.” She kissed him “But I am so very grateful.” “Is my bedroom big?” She asked feeling excitement rise. “It’s normal.” He replied continuing working on what he was doing. “Will I have space for my books?” “I can squeeze them in.” “Ro?” “What?” Exasperation in his voice. “Are you ignoring me or the computer is sexier than me?” With a very slow motion he finally turned “Fireheart, some people have work to do.” “Fine. You are grumpy.” And she pinched his buttocks. Rowan turned quickly and glared at her for a second then exhaled deeply “We can move things on Sunday. Have everything prepared and boxed and on Sunday I will help you. We have two cars so it should be quite quick.” His tone flat. She threw her arms around his neck “You are wonderful.”

Ten minutes later she was back to work all happy again and Rowan had a smile on his face. They were going to live together and he could not contain his happiness at having her around all day. “By the way… the sci-fi section needs a revamp. Fancy playing a bit?” “Hell yeah, Aelin to the rescue.” By the end of the day she had redone not just the sci-fi display but also two more bookcases, explaining that they needed a bit of a spruce up as well and Rowan had let her. Her display were working and his sales had definitely increased. According to Aelin his Facebook page was being successful especially since he had started posting reviews and recommendation. “And again, ladies and gentleman, bow to the Queen.” In the distance she heard Rowan scoff. “You have any problems?” She walked to him wiggling her finger at him “No m’lady I could never tell my Queen she has a very high esteem of herself.” She grinned and walked to him and placed a kiss on his wicked mouth. “Ro?” “Yes, menace.” She snuggled and took a deep breath “There is there is a sci fi festival at An Lanntair this week and tonight they are showing Star Wars episode IV. Fancy coming with me?” Rowan was silent for a moment. “I am coming with you. But just because we are watching the original trilogy. I refuse to watch the new stuff.” Aelin laughed “Oh I’d never do that. For me only the three original episodes exist.” “You are my girl.” “Will… you know. Be okay? With Lyria?” Rowan gave her a squeeze “I will be fine.” She looked up at him with a very mischievous grin “It’s warm, I can wear a very slutty dress and show her who is the stick.” Rowan laughed “Just not too slutty. People talk around here.” “And say what? Rowan Whitethorn is dating the hot chick from London? Like I care.” He ran a hand through her hair “This chick from London is hot, though.” He grinned. “We can also have dinner together. Have a date you know.” He then added. A huge smile appeared on her face “I’d love that very much.” “So if we are going on a date, does it mean we are officially dating? Are we putting a label on it?” She leaned on the counter with her elbows and stared at him. “We can put one label if you want. We can say that we are dating.” He offered her while filing away some of the invoices he had just finished to reconcile. “But we are not boyfriends and girlfriend.” She looked at him. “I prefer a Fireheart and her Buzzard.” Aelin grabbed his face and kissed him deeply “I prefer it so much more” and brushed his hair “And if someone asks us what is means we will tell them to mind their own business and just let us enjoy our relationship how we want.” He had his eyes closed and his his face in an expression of pure bliss while Aelin kept caressing his head. Aelin even thought she heard him purr in delight. She could not keep her hands off him. She always needed to have some kind of contact with him and she was happy that he allowed it. The door opened and they broke apart quickly. She went to the customer and he continued his job at the computer while keeping an eye on he. He could not believe himself. He had just offered her to go and live with him. Last time he had done that it did not end well and a part of him was worried. They relationship was going well and all of a sudden her was terrified he had just done a stupid thing. But then he looked at her again and the rational part of his brain told him that she was not Lyria and Aelin was seriously in love with him. He sighed and hoped he was right. She came back walking with her usual swagger and with her hips pushed him away “I need to order a book.” And she started playing at the computer and Rowan was impressed how quickly she had learned all the other aspects of the job. She had been an amazing help and knowing he could keep the shop open when he was going to the school was an incredible relief. “Who gave you permission to do that?” He joked. “You did. Now let me finish before I make a mistake and then you shout at me.” He pulled her braid and left her alone with her task.

Later that evening they had finally gone home and now Aelin was trying to decide what to wear for her date with Rowan. She had texted Lysandra all excited and her friend’s reply was something that will make him regret that you are in a public place and not in his bed. The night was warm so she decided to wear her blue dress. It was very ‘50s in style with a nice flowing skirt, and sleeveless. It was one of her favourite. And it was also not slutty at all. She put some light make up on and decided to leave her hair down. it was always in a braid during the day, but she wanted to fully shock Rowan. She grabbed a jacket and left the house. They were meeting outside the restaurant. Her stomach was in knots by the excitement. She hadn’t felt like this on her first date with Chaol. When she arrived at the restaurant she spotted Rowan in the distance. It was almost impossible not to notice him. And she stopped. Damn, the man really was sex on two legs. He was wearing a pair of jeans, a white shirt under a green jumper that somehow matched his eyes. It was simple but on him it was a dream. She swallowed and walked to him.

Rowan had spotted her in an instant. She was wearing a beautiful blue dress that hugged her curves beautifully. But what caused him almost an heart attack was her hair. It was down. He had always seen her in a braid and never realised how long it was. It hung on her shoulder and it look like gold. She was the most stunning woman he had ever seen and he was positive he now had a stupid grin painted on his face. “Hey,” he said, walking to her. An arm went around her waist and he pulled her to him for a quick kiss. “You taste of strawberry.” “Lipgloss,”Aelin said and Rowan kissed her again. “Now you removed it all.” “I have no regrets and I plan on doing it again.” He smiled at her and then run his fingers through her hair. “I love this. Very, very, much.” “Shall we go in?” At the restaurant they had a great meal and Rowan told himself he should have asked her out before. But her situation was a mess before, their status confused. Now that things were finally moving in the correct direction he was planning on remedy on all those omissions and treat her out to a meal more often. Once they were done they walked to An Lanntair hand in hand and chatting away happily. At the community centre they stopped outside and Aelin noticed his indecision. “Ro, we don’t have to do it. We can go for a walk and then get ice cream. We really don’t.” He kissed her “I want to. It’s time I face it. I love this place and I am tired of avoiding because of her.” With his hand in hers they walked in and once inside they joined the queue for the tickets. Aelin had noticed a few women staring at Rowan and she had promptly glared at them marking the territory. His arm went tight around her waist and she was petty enough to turn to those women and smirk. “Two tickets please for Star Wars,”Aelin heard Rowan said and she noticed the woman at the counter. Lyria’s gaze was fixed on her. “Perhaps you want to keep an eye on the computer.” Aelin added and her arm went around Rowan’s waist in a possessive manner. And she celebrated a little victory when she noticed annoyance in the woman’s eyes. “I didn’t know you liked this kind of movie.” Lyria’s stare was now on Rowan “Do you want your usual seat at the back of the cinema? Although I doubt your friend here has the guts to have sex in a cinema.” “I have a thing called decency.” Aelin spat back now fully sick and tired by this woman. “Cash or card?” “Card,” growled Rowan. “Here are your tickets.” Then her gaze was on Aelin again “Bye stick.” Rowan turned furiously “Don’t you dare insult her again. Ever.” He grabbed Aelin’s hand and they walked to the screen. “I never had sex in a cinema.” He growled “I always get a sit at the back because I am tall and I don’t want to be in people’s way.” She stopped and turned him to her “I know. I guessed. I could not picture you like the kind of guy to have sex in a public place. Grabbing my leg and some light touching… yes. Full on sex no.” He kissed her and they went to their seats. They were finally comfy when Aelin realised she forgot the pop corn and her drink so she left him alone to go and get her provisions. She went to the kiosk and got her food and got back to Rowan. “Was dinner not enough?” Aelin shook her head “dinner was perfect but I can’t watch a movie in a cinema without pop corn.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. The movie started and Aelin’s head ended up leaning on his shoulder. Then she grabbed Rowan’s hand and placed on her thigh. He was still to start with then his thumb slowly started tracing circles on the inner part. She smiled and parted her legs gently. Their row was empty and the one in front was the same. Everyone was seated toward the front. He shifted more to her side and his hand now was completely under her dress. She concentrated on the movie while his hand was doing wonders on her. Again, he never touched skin, but still he managed to make her tremble. At the same time her hand sneaked at his side and between his legs. It was time to return the favour. “I’ll stop before the end of the movie.” She whispered in his ear when he tried to stop her hand. She palmed him quite hard and Rowan pretended to cough to hide the moan that surely was about to escape his mouth. As she promised she had stopped before the end of the movie to give him time to compose himself and he had been a gentleman. He had mostly caressed her thighs and gave a few very light brushes between her legs. He was not the kind of person to do such things in public. And she loved him even more. She had restrained herself as well and just brushed her hand up and down enough to tease him a bit. It had been fun. When they left the cinema he had a big grin on his face “Still up for that ice cream?” She nodded eagerly. They walked to the ice cream parlour and Aelin’s mouth watered at the lovely selection of flavours. “This is the best place where to get ice cream.” “Please tell me you eat ice cream.” she looked up at him. He smiled “Only fruity flavours.” “This one is on me.” She noticed the protest in his eyes but she stopped him “No, you paid for dinner and did not allow me to give you money for the movie. This is on me.” “Fine, Fireheart.” And he placed his hands on her shoulder. They got their ice cream and they started walking along the marina and then off to Lews castle grounds. They found a bench and sat down and ate their ice cream in silence, looking at the boats rolling in the water. “Did you enjoy our first date?” Rowan looked at her. “Very much,” she finished her ice cream and then Rowan laughed. “What?” But he did not reply and kissed her. “You had chocolate moustache.” And his smile was wicked. Aelin began laughing and he stared at her confused. “Nothing.” She replied at his face. “Come on,” with his fingers he began tickling her. “No, it’s embarrassing.” “More than having chocolate moustache like a five years old?” Aelin sighed “Fine, but I warned you.” She took a breath and fought the embarrassment “I… one of my fantasies involves me… hem… covering your body in chocolate and lick you clean.” Her face was buried in her hands and avoided looking at him. He grabbed her hands and pulled them away “Considering is you, I am not surprise you want to lick something sweet off me. Want to dip me in whip cream as well? I can also have a few marshmallow stuck in my mouth.” And they laughed hard. His arm went around her shoulder and he pulled her close to him and she nestled in the crook of his arm, her hand on his chest. “With Chaol there was chemistry but we never… had adventures. It was always only in bed. I couldn’t even convince him in the shower. I think that’s why I have stupid fantasies.” He squeezed her “Lyria was… well, she was the one that once suggested sex in a cinema. She was always suggesting places where it would not have been a good idea. That’s why she calls me boring.” “I don’t think I could either. I am all for trying all sorts of places in my house and all sort of positions but out of the privacy of my house I don’t think I could.” She explained “probably in a wood or a lake if I knew there was no one around for kilometres.” She looked at him “I guess we are both boring.” “Never.” His other arm went around her waist and Aelin draped one leg over his. “Did you wait with her as well?” Rowan sighed “No. I was younger and horny and she was my first girlfriend. I was eager to get some experience. Most of the guys at my age already had plenty. I didn’t. I was too busy between uni and swimming to add girl as well. Although I had a huge fan club at uni.” “That I can imagine.” She laughed. “But no, with her the first few times were a disaster. I knew the basics but I had no idea how to please a woman.” “I would say that you have honed that skill pretty nicely.” Aelin’s hand on his chest tightened. “I… had a few before Chaol. Too many probably. They were not relationships. More one night stands. I always blamed it to the stress due to med school. It was a good way to let out steam.” She confessed and hoped he would not change his mind about her “Lys and I would go to a bar and see who could score the hottest guy. And now with hindsight I regret it.” She felt Rowan kiss her head and took it as a good sign. Eventually Aelin stood and grabbed his hands “Let’s go, I need to stretch my legs.” They walked a bit longer and kept chatting and Rowan in the end walked back to what was going to be her home for only two more days. “Thank you for tonight,” she snuggled to his chest and he wrapped his arms around her “I had a great night.” He looked down to her “I had fun too.” He kissed her and she pulled back. “Oidhche mhath, mo chridhe” she said to him. He pulled in for a kiss “Good night to you as well, Fireheart.”

[impalaimagining]

You Saved Me - 19

Jared Padalecki x Reader, past Jared Padalecki x Genevieve, past Evan (OC) x Reader

1,725 words

Warnings: anxiety, tooth-aching sweetness.

Series Masterlist - Masterlist

The brewery was a madhouse, live music playing in the taproom, a tour about to start, the merch room open and fully stocked, food trucks packed into the back of the lot, not to mention Jensen and Danneel were on site for the “family reunion.”

“Jensen!” An almost-squeal came from behind him, and he turned to see a fan barrelling toward him waving her phone in her hand.

He smiled as she approached him, slightly out of breath. She ran a hand through her hair and introduced herself as Stacey before asking him if they could take a picture together. Jensen ushered her away and let the next fan step up to him.

“Oh my God.” Someone breathed beside you, clapping her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, you’re Jared Padalecki!” Her voice went up an octave by the end of his name.

Jared sipped his beer, his eyebrows shooting up as he glanced at her upon hearing his name. He swallowed and rubbed his fingers over his chest just below his collarbones. “Hi.” He gave her a small wave.

“Could - can I-” She stammered, obviously awestruck by him. You couldn’t blame her.

“A selfie?” He offered her a half-smile, and she nodded dumbly. You scooted over on the bench so she could sit beside him and take her picture before thanking him and moving on. “Was hoping that wouldn’t happen too much today.” Jared mumbled as you slid back to his left side.

You reached up and rubbed his back between his shoulder blades. “You’re famous, baby. And hot.” You winked, earning a quiet chuckle from him. “Plus you’re not exactly small. People are gonna see you and ask for pictures. We can - we don’t have to hang out here today if you’d rather be at home.”

Jared shook his head. “Told Jensen I’d be here. I don’t want to go back on that.” He finished off the last beer in his flight and stood up, walking to the counter for another. The second Jared’s hand hit the bar top, people crowded him. You watched his shoulders tense up and his jaw clench as he turned around to a flock of fans asking for pictures and autographs.

You hung back, eyes trained on Jared, looking for his tells, but not wanting to be the crazy girlfriend who didn’t let him interact with his fans. Jared took a few pictures, smiling for them, but not really smiling. The smile didn’t touch his eyes, and if his dimples didn’t show with any kind of expression that crossed his face, you were pretty sure they wouldn’t have made an appearance either. After the fifth or sixth selfie, you saw Jared’s hands twitching, fists clenching and unclenching nervously.

“Son of a bitch.” You stood up and hurried to him, pushing your way through with muffled excuse me’s and apologies. When you finally wriggled your way through to Jared, you laid your hand on his stomach and positioned yourself at his side. His arm instinctively wrapped around your shoulders and you felt his chest heave with a sigh of relief when he glanced down. Your other hand fell to Jared’s back and you looked up at him, giving him a nod. “Okay.” You sighed and looked at everyone with apologetic eyes. “Alright guys, we’re gonna step away for a bit.”

Jared looked around and gave everyone a fast, sorry smile and a wave, and then the two of you stepped into the brew room, finding a quiet space away from the tour. “Thank you.” He leaned against the wall, running his hands through his hair and pulling his beanie from his back pocket.

You rubbed your hand across his chest, watching his face as he closed his eyes and started taking deep breaths. “It’s okay.” You whispered. “It’s just us.”

Jared didn’t have a problem with crowds - not usually - but he was paranoid. He’d told you about how afraid he was of someone bringing up the incident with the police. The “family reunion” was his first non-organized public outing since it had happened, and the fact that the drinks were flowing didn’t slip his mind. He was drinking publicly for the first time since he’d punched your ex-boyfriend in the face and ended up in the back seat of a cop car.

“It’s okay, Jared.” You leaned your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist.

He closed his eyes and sighed, running his hand up and down your spine. “I’m just - I don’t know. This feels weird. And I’m sure me running away didn’t exactly look the best.”

You drew back and looked up at him. “I’m sorry I pulled you away. I-”

“No, no, no.” Jared shook his head. “Do not apologize. I know what you saw. I felt myself doing it.” He brought his other hand up and cupped your cheek, tipping your head up. Jared molded his lips with yours. “Thank you.” He whispered, barely pulling away.

You twisted your fingers into his shirt and closed your eyes as he kissed you, pouting when he broke it off. “I love you.” Your eyes fluttered open and you smiled up at him.

Jared hummed and kissed you again quickly. “I love you too.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder again and pulled you into his side. “Let’s get back out there.”

“You sure?” You pressed your palm against his chest again. “We can just go home. I’m sure Jensen will understand if you explain it to him.”

Jared shook his head. “I’m sure. Let’s go.” He ushered you back into the taproom and the two of you walked to the bar to order another round.

A few hours and at least four more beer flights later, after watching what seemed like an endless sea of selfies and people telling Jared how much they loved him and loved the show, he beckoned you to him. You obliged, tucking yourself into his side under his arm, leaning on him as you realized how buzzed you were.

“Hi.” Jared whispered and kissed the top of your head.

“Hi.” You smiled up at him, closing your eyes. “How’re you doin’?”

“I’m good, baby.” Jared pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “How are you?”

“‘M a little drunk.” You shrugged. “But I’m okay. I’m good. I’m glad you’re doin’ okay.”

Jared looked up from your face for a second, finding Jensen across the crowd. “Hey, baby?” He pushed you to a clearing in the center of the yard, under two particularly tall trees with twinkling lights strung between them. You eyed him skeptically, wondering why he was putting himself out in the open and susceptible to more people approaching him. You missed Jensen, Danneel, Gino, and Clif standing at the outskirts of the crowds, keeping everyone back from the two of you.

You pursed your lips. “Jared, wha-”

Jared pressed his finger to your lips and shook his head. “Shh.” He kissed you quickly again before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He cleared his throat and fidgeted nervously, his eyes darting over the features of your face. “Okay.” Jared inhaled a deep breath through his nose. “Alright, here goes.” His eyes darted to Jensen briefly, who gave him a nod and a smile. “I love you.” Jared started, and you tilted your head as you realized everyone surrounding you. “I love you so much, and I know the time we’ve spent together hasn’t exactly been under the best circumstances. You’ve become such a huge part of my life, such a huge part of the boys’ lives. You’ve stepped up for them in ways you were never required to, and every time I see you with them, my heart melts a little. You’re so good for them, and you’re so good for me. I wouldn’t trade you for the world. You came into my life when I needed you the most, and you’re there for me through absolutely everything. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put into words what you mean to me or how much I love you.” Jared’s right hand came out of his pocket as you wiped your eyes and exhaled a half-laugh, half-sob. Jared sank down onto one knee in the soft spring grass, and in his hand was a silver band covered in sparkling diamonds, one large princess cut stone sitting in the center. “Y/N, will you please give me your forever and marry me?”

Your hand covered your mouth as you clamped your eyes shut, tears spilling from the sides. You nodded, gasping in breaths between your quiet sobs.

Jared chuckled. “I gotta hear you say it, baby.” He beamed up at you as you pulled your hand from your mouth.

“Yes, Jared.” Your voice shook. “I’ll marry you.”

Jared slipped the ring on your finger and stood up, grabbing you in a crushing hug and lifting you off the ground. You held both sides of his face and kissed him, tears continuing to run down your cheeks. “I love you so much.” Jared mumbled against your lips.

“I love you more.” You whispered, running your thumbs under his eyes and wiping away the tears he’d let slip. You rolled your forehead against Jared’s, the tips of your noses bumping as you smiled endlessly at one another. “I love you so much more.”

Jensen walked over to you and clapped his hand onto Jared’s shoulder. “Congratulations.” He pulled Jared into a hug before wrapping you in a tight embrace. “Congrats, kid. Welcome to the family.”

You smiled up at Jensen and shook your head. “Quit callin’ me kid.” You shoved him away by the chest, grinning and mouthing “thank you” before you found your way back to Jared, slipping in under his arm. The crowds that had been kept at bay for the proposal suddenly encroached upon the two of you, congratulating the two of you and hugging you like they knew you personally.

In one of the rare and fleeting moments that you and Jared had time to sneak in a word to one another, he yanked you against him by the hand and crashed his lips to yours. “Hey.” He whispered, smiling against your lips. You hummed and felt Jared’s smile widen as he kissed you over and over. “We’re engaged.”

Part 20

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[normal-thoughts-official]

I think both Magnus and Alec have a big part of their lifes that have nothing to do with eachother. Okey, they are happily married and the live together but anyway... What about their hobbies? What about their own personal projects? Friends/queerplatonic relationships? I want to know who they are, besides of great politic leaders or someone's husband

i mean, i agree. i hate it when ppl reduce magnus and alec to malec or just generally care more about the romantic relationships than the other ones, nevermind bothering to develop other aspects of their lives that are just... theirs

to be fair i feel like we got a reasonable amount of that for them (for shadowhunter’s standarts of giving us content anyway). i mean, less for alec but that kinda makes sense considering that he’s spent most of his life avoiding any kind of close relationships that weren’t with his siblings like the plague and generally being, like, raised in a military based society with the weight of the world on his shoulders and also gay. but i totally agree that we should have gotten more of him getting out of his shell and finding hobbies and friends beyond just a romantic relationship. and for magnus, well, we know that he likes physics and science and studying magic as a whole, and dancing, and we know about his friends aka catarina and ragnor and raphael and dot, we know about his found family and his club and that he likes parties and good food and drinks, travelling, and meeting new people and cultures. you know?

but anyway, other headcanons with little things about their lives:

alec is totally the workout gay who likes fucking, idk jogging every morning and shit, and for some reason i can see him being into mountain climbing???? and magnus is like No Thank You. I Will Do Literally Anything Else because yikes the amount of effort and sweat and it’s just generally unpleasant. magnus is far from being sedentary, but also, no. yikes

he’s more into taking long walks in nice places and admiring the view and shit like that and he’s all like “isn’t it great? :)” and alec is like “haha yeah how far are we” because he’s just... goal-oriented and when he’s doing sports he likes to have a clear goal, something to achieve, or to push himself to his limits and all that bullcrap. while magnus likes to do it for the sake of doing it and enjoying himself and getting in contact with his own body & mind & soul and shit. they find some sort of enjoyment in it with the way alec always makes magnus laugh with his grumpiness + inability to truly understand what this whole thing is about + just general himboness, but as a whole, magnus likes to take his walks alone, so he can get that space for himself. and he’s definitely not joining in when alec is doing his weird sportsman training gimmick whatever-thing, either

same with tai-chi! magnus tried to get alec into it (altho somewhat awkwardly since magnus does magical tai chi and alec very much does not have magic) but it just, didn’t work out. one second into it and alec was already making that painfully concentrated face and he’s stiff as a board and it’s the opposite of what it’s supposed to be and magnus breaks down laughing and alec is all offended and they just can’t get past a few seconds and end up giving up. alec is the bitch who sits down to medidate and is immediately like BOY I AM GONNA GET IN TOUCH WITH MY INNER SELF SO FAST AND HARD FUCKING WATCH ME I’M GONNA BE THE BEST MEDIDATOR THIS SIDE OF THE PACIFIC FUCKING OOHMMM BITCH. introspective arts are just not for him

i like to think that alec gets closer to aline, and i can see him and helen hitting it off, too. like seriously guys let alec have friends who aren’t just magnus’ friends (and let magnus have friends that are HIS friends, too)

i know underhill is implied to become his friend but also, like..... he’s so boring i just can’t have any hcs for them as friends daoijsdaiouja i think they have more of a solidarity, nodding when walking past each other in the halls thing than actual friendship you know

obviously there’s alec’s siblings as he will always be the one izzy loves the most and she will always be one of the most important people for him, and even as magnus and izzy totally are friends too, she is still alec’s sister and they make it a point to see each other, just the two of them, at least once a week. izzy always smiles and loops her arm through his and alec’s immediately huffing but he loves it and she knows that he loves it. she was like, his only source of physical contact for so long, and god he really needed it and he loved her for giving it to him even as he pretended it was something he hated. neither of them want to shake that habit, so it stays

but there’s also a particular brand of friendship magnus has with her that alec doesn’t. like when they get all weird about dead bodies or go shopping? alec’s out 

magnus does a lot of studying (mostly languages, physics, and chemistry, as well as magic) so he has his own study room (plus the apothecary) that’s a whole damn mess filled with books and notes scattered around and shit and alec is not allowed in because he always wants to organize it and GOD FUCKING DAMN IT IT’S NOT DISORGANIZED I KNOW WHERE EVERYTHING’S SUPPOSED TO BE and if alec moves a single pen, magnus Will Know About It

in exchange he always keeps the door closed or spelled so alec doesn’t have to look at it

obviously there’s archery, which is something alec loves to do and practice, especially as he starts to get more into the bureaucratic parts of shadowhunting. he needs his bow and arrow to feel connected to himself and his body and safe, and he also has his own practicing room. magnus can do archery fine, but it’s not really among his interests

magnus of course has his regular meetings with the immortal squad and his breakfasts with raphael :) not that raphael isn’t part of the immortal squad but they also enjoy having a time just for the two of them. they are father and son after all, and besides, they lived together for quite a while, and the dynamics of them versus them + ragnor + cat are different

while magnus loves taking alec with him in his trips and to art galleries and out to eat in great restaurants and shit, they both know it’s something that alec, while very curious to know about, does not appreciate the same way that he does. not more or less, just, differently. if they go to an art gallery, magnus is gonna be looking at every piece and musing and maybe talking about the painters of x and y movement that he knew, and analyzing the technique or whatever. alec is less interested in the paintings themselves and more in the artists, what their life was like, what the period/place they lived in was like, how that shaped their art, you know? like he’s just not a very visual person haha me projecting never so what interests him is more outside of the paintings than inside. so even when they go to these places together, they’re just having completely different experiences? and a lot of the time they end up straying and meeting each other later, where they’ll chat and generally be ridiculous. but the both of them also enjoy going to those on their own or with their friends who Get It, you know? because again just completely different rhythms and interests and stuff

i feel like they both enjoy trashy television, but like, in completely different ways? like magnus loves him a terrible sitcom even if he’ll never admit it, where alec is more into like..... really bad and dramatic mystery shows

they both enjoy watching reality shows though. magnus wasn’t that huge on it before, but with alec? man, that’s a riot. he’ll judge absolutely everyone and make faces and just generally be fucking hilarious

ok i know that i’m talking about things they do together but my goal here is to talk about like... who they are and what their interests are individually, even if they are together, you know? and not like, As An Unit

magnus loves music and recitals and dance shows of all kinds. also, street art! i feel like that’s something him, cat, and maia have in common

speaking of cat; there are always His Cats. like sure they like alec fine but as soon as magnus is home they all immediately flock to him. it’s like alec never existed. goodbye, tall person

tbh i feel like raphael is totally an animals person and soon the dumort kind of turns into like, a sort of animal shelter? like magnus gives him the idea and all the vampires are naturally drawn to the idea of the dumort becoming a place for the strays of the world, especially if it means they get some company.... and maybe warm cuddles. anyway, my point is, magnus loves to visit the dumort and play with the cats and dogs that are there from time to time and he’s so proud of raphael and what he’s doing with the place and i just aaa :’) 

i feel like alec would have an interest in technology? like he’d be that bitch who Knows tech (probably started because of his job, but soon he found that he like, actually has an interest in it?) and who cleans his keyboard every day and only gets licensed programmes and takes care of his laptop like those guys who are weird about cars

lmao for some reason i can totally picture him and aline bonding over that? 

oh man alec would be into PUZZLES. word puzzles, jigsaw puzzles, the whole grandpa shit. he doesn’t do it often but when he does, he’s just At It. him and madzie can play with jigsaw puzzles for hours and wouldn’t remember to eat. she visits one day and is like I Got A 3D Puzzle and alec is just like neat! and they just sit down and do it until they have to be forced to bed or something. then at like precisely 6AM their eyes snap open like It’s A New Day, Puzzle Time and it just keeps being like this until they’re done

also there’s magnus’ morning routine, of course, especially since he doesn’t really have a schedule, and as sociable as he is he does enjoy some alone time to make himself some breakfast, do some tai chi, maybe read a book or comic, and all that. alec is just snoring the whole time completely passed out when it’s not a work day, tbh

okay that’s all i have actually doasdiad i hope it isn’t too much or disappointing or whatever. also, if anyone else wants to add their own headcanons for alec’s and magnus’ hobbies, feel free to do so :)

[nxtawitch]

Strength and Wisdom

There were few things that broke Gisela’s focus while she worked, and the crack of weapons in the yard was at the top of that list. The crack was followed up by a crash and grunt, then a peal of laughter. Her grip slackened on the millstone, the slow purr of stones and crunch of wheat corns coming to a halt while dark eyes shifted to the open doors. 

Past those who stood and watched, young Uhtred rolled from where Sithric threatened to cut down at him with a feder. The boy—all elbows and knees, with a height that had yet to be filled out—scrambled to his feet, his sword and shield gone. When Sithric approached, moving much slower than an enemy ever would, her son skittered away, bending down to grab the forgotten blade. Seeing how wide his eyes were, it took all of Gisela’s restraint not to draw the exercise to a halt, even though the wooden blades would do nothing but bruise her child. 

“Lady?” One of her maids asked, and Gisela forced her eyes away to look at the young Saxon, whose brows were furrowed. “I’m unsure whether we have enough meat for tomorrow.” 

Tomorrow. Alfred was without a doubt riding their way, having heard of the latest exploit of her husband. Getting in a disagreement over an urn with Æthelred’s goon (for the second time) was certainly not the best advised conflict, but Gisela had not stopped it—informing her husband of Aldhelm calling her a bitch had, in fact, led to the man’s nose and jaw being broken while she had the men bring the urn back into the home. 

That reminder brought Gisela away from fears for her son—Uhtred needed to be a warrior, if he was ever to help his father retake Bebbanburg—and to what needed to be done. The daily grind of flour had been tripled, ale needed to be selected, and their food needed to be fit for the King of the Anglecynn (even if the food he served at his own palace was of lesser quality to her usual meals). She wiped flour-dusted hands on her apron, nodding to the maid. “I will handle the meat. Would you continue the grinding? I’d like it to be as fine as possible for our guests.” Her back and shoulders protested as she straightened after hours at the mill, dragging the heavy stone around in circles. It was meant to be Stiorra’s work, but the mere amount of it was too much for the girl. Instead, her lovely, dark-haired daughter sat wedged between two others, cutting turnips and carrots for the meal. Gisela smiled their way, her heart light with the fortune that came to them: a Roman home in Lundene, little worry over winter, and three healthy children. 

Now, if only Alfred did not have to come visit her husband whenever he disputed with his cousin. 

They had plenty of pork for the arrival of Alfred and his men, and a hen that had stopped laying went in with the vegetables to thicken the broth. Gisela looked proudly over the spread, with a loaf for every man, even the flock of priests that filled her home with black. While the show of the nailed god’s wealth was understandable—it was no secret that she was as pagan as her husband—Gisela frowned at the way the cloth sucked the light from the limestone walls. 

While her maids served the best ale in her stores, she surveyed the men around the table. Warriors and priests did little to intermingle, though Beocca visited with Osferth in a corner. Alfred smiled when his eyes met hers, momentarily losing the grave look he so often wore around Uhtred. Gisela let herself smile in return, but her armor slid back into place when she looked back to the others, careful interest being the only thing visible to the untrained eye. Brows slightly arched, eyes devouring everything, lips set in the lightest of smiles, she’d become an expert at expressing her emotions through the slightest shift of her brow, perfect for times like this, where she was expected to be seen and not heard.  

That meant, when she looked down the table and saw young Uhtred missing from his seat at the table, she could look at Uhtred and, once their eyes met, silently nod in the direction of the door to excuse herself. His brows quirked up, but he nodded in return, and she slid from the bench and the room. With the unchanged clamor of voices, it seemed as though none would follow her into the yard. The courtyard, usually the hub of all activity in the home, was quiet save for the cluck of chickens and a small, quiet sniff by the garden. Gisela strode that way, remaining mostly silent as she did. 

Her son sat on Stiorra’s milking stool, his back turned away from the hall and the feast, His narrow shoulders curled in, the boy making himself seem even smaller. Her mind raced with possibilities of what she’d missed. Had her visions passed to him? Was he hurt in some way? But with another sniff, she took off her veil, wrapping the fine wool around his shoulders, before kneeling before him. Her brows pinched together at the blotchy redness of his face, and she took his small, still childlike hands in her own before he could wipe his eyes. 

“What’s wrong, ástin mín?” Gently, she brushes flaxen hair from his brow. Every day, he grew closer in resemblance to his father, save for the way he often worried his lip beneath his teeth, as he did now. That was from her, always done when she thought no one was watching. 

His hands tightened on hers, but he didn’t open his mouth to share. He had the stubborn jaw of his father, but Gisela would not press young Uhtred to speak. That, as she’d learned from her brother, would only make him more reluctant to share the cause of his pain. 

Instead, she wiped the tears from his cheeks with her thumb. The stool she dragged over scraped against the earth, but once it was set, she sat and wrapped her arms around her son. For a while they sat, his head on her shoulder and her hand stroking his hair. The silence between them was an ocean she couldn’t cross, and not for the first time did she wish her knowledge of fate could lend her advice on how to raise her children, but to ask too much of the Gods was to invite madness and misfortune. 

The cock strutted close, inspecting the two intruders to his realm. Gisela’s lips tightened into a stern frown, but the cock couldn’t tell the difference between a worm and a bit of spare roving, let alone human emotions. He pecked at her shoe, but upon discovery that it was not in fact food, he strutted away. 

And somehow, with it he pulled her across the ocean, for young Uhtred spoke at last. “Father doesn’t like me, does he?” 

Ice shot through her veins. Sure, there was little equal footing they could meet on, but surely—”Why would you think that, miting? Your father and I love you.” Gisela smiled, but it felt too wrong even for her. It faded quickly, and she took her son’s chin to make him look at her, brows raising. 

He turned his head away, eyes falling to the earth. “I’m not strong. I don’t like fighting, especially not as much as him.” He pulled his hands from hers, electing to pick at the hem of his tunic, where wear was causing the nap of the wool to raise. At any other moment, she would’ve scolded him for such an action, he saw how many hours she and the other women spent producing the textiles that kept him warm, but instead she pulled him close once more, and pressed a kiss to his temple.

If Gisela was being honest, she held him close and kissed him in the same way she’d done when he was born because the right words to say were still missing from her mind. Were there any? Reminding him that he was loved was all she could do. 

“Father and his men, they always know what to say. They’ve got jokes, and good insults, and I sit with my mouth open, looking like a fish because...I can’t keep up.” He let out a shuddering breath, the words delivered with a maturity far beyond his eight years of age. Her son straightened, drawing himself away from her embrace. “I’m just not as strong, how can I gain reputation?” 

Her blood boiled at that well-trodden worry. Gisela was going to have a word with Uhtred as soon as Alfred was gone. But, the right words came to her at last. “There are more ways of being strong than being good with a sword.” 

“Like being good with a spear?” 

“No,” She smiled, bumping him with her elbow, “Look at your aunt, Thyra. Is she not strong?” Gisela paused, brows raised as she waited for him to tell her she was wrong. She wasn’t, but young Uhtred’s eyes merely widened. “I thought so. She survived Kjartan, without ever needing a blade. And King Alfred is strong, even when he’s at his most ill. There are many ways to be strong, and not every man needs to be like Thor in theirs.” 

“Then how, if I’m not a strong warrior?” His brows furrowed, the blue of his eyes bright with curiosity. Gisela was merely glad they no longer shone with tears. 

“Your mind. Odin is wise, and as much of a trickster as Loki, and yet he reigns over the gods.” She taps his head, lightly. “Always ask questions of what you know, and leave your mind open to the opinions of others. It’s wisdom and tactics that win wars and make kingdoms great, even if fighting wins an individual battle.” She should know, for her father and brother were both fools, and it had lost their kingdom. Wits—her wits, though she let the Abbot Eadred claim the credit—had reinstated Guthred’s place, while the city struggled to rebuild in his absence. 

Finally, a smile lit upon her boy’s face, and the rock in her heart lightened. He nodded quickly, and took her hand. “Tell me more!” 

“You’ll have plenty of time to ask me questions,” She motioned towards the doors, “but there is a whole room of wise men you may not have much time with. Will you come join us in the hall again?” The boy looked over his shoulder, his lips tightening into a line as he considered. Sensing his apprehension, she offered a hand. “I’ll introduce you to Father Beocca. You’ve met briefly before, but he was your father’s priest when he was your age.” 

Uhtred took her hand, squeezing it tightly, and Gisela stood. The milking stool she sat on turned over, but she didn’t mind that. What was more important was that he stood as well, and followed her to the doors. 

“I didn’t know father was christian.” His hand tightened again once they were about to enter, and Gisela knelt down. It always felt odd, looking down to speak to a person. Especially her own child. 

“He was. But now he’s not.” She brushed her fingers through his hair once more, making it nicer for the company within. “He was a good teacher, according to your father. It was he who was merely bored of lessons. I hope you will not tire of learning, though.” 

Uhtred, eyes wide, shook his head. As if she’d warned him, he let go of her hand and pushed the door open on his own, too-long legs carrying him to the squinting priest, whose hair had long since gone grey. 

Gisela watched as the boy tugged on Beocca’s hand lightly, his mouth moving quickly. Beocca glanced her way, brows raised, but eased into conversation with the child, his healthy hand gesturing wildly as he spoke. Young Uhtred hung on his every word. Content with the outcome of her suggestion, she returned to her spot by Uhtred, and entwined her fingers in his. 

One look was all it took. 

[raccoon-wizard]

Two and Half Assholes

An entire one person (shout out to @jumpfiend) expressed their wish for me to write an angry essay about the long dead show Two and Half Men (2003-2015) and all the problems it has. Allow me to start by saying that I am by no means a professional critic and I have never really written an in-depth review of anything. But I have a lot of feelings that I need to get out about this shitshow, otherwise my head is gonna explode next time my father insists on watching it.

Just a warning, this is a very long post.

What is Two and Half Men about?

If I tried to write my own summary here, I would probably end up tearing it to shreds already. Instead, I’m going to borrow the annotation from IMDB.com: “A hedonistic jingle writer's free-wheeling life comes to an abrupt halt when his brother and 10-year-old nephew move into his beachfront house.”

That doesn’t really say much, does it now. Luckily, the same site also provides us with a wide range of plot (hahahah “plot”) summaries written by users. This one tells us a little more: “The Harper brothers Charlie and Alan are almost opposites but form a great team. They have little in common except their dislike for their mundane, maternally cold and domineering mother, Evelyn. Alan, a compulsively neat chiropractor and control-freak, is thrown out by his manipulative wife Judith who nevertheless gets him to pay for everything and do most jobs in the house. Charlie is a freelance jingle composer and irresistible Casanova who lives in a luxurious beach-house and rarely gets up before noon. Charlie "temporarily" allows Alan and his son Jake, a food-obsessed, lazy kid who shuttles between his parents, to move in with them after Alan's separation/divorce. The sitcom revolves around their conflicting lifestyles, raising Jake (who has the efficient, caring dad while having a ball with his fun-loving sugar uncle who teaches him boyish things), and bantering with Evelyn and various other friends and family. Other fairly regular characters include Charlie's cleaning lady Berta and his rich, self-confessed stalker neighbor Rose who often sneaks in to spy on Charlie.”

Now that’s much better. It gives us quite a decent picture of the show’s ensemble. At least for the starter episodes, this is pretty much what it is. But as the show progresses, we see that the characters have a little bit more depth to them. But not that much. 

Let’s start with Charlie Harper, the “freelance jingle composer and irresistible Casanova who lives in a luxurious beach-house and rarely gets up before noon” portrayed by Charlie Sheen. (Is that man still a thing?) I think we can get a lot by taking apart this brief description of him. Freelance jingle composer pretty much means that he has a grand piano in his house and we can occasionally see him playing it while trying to put together words for a commercial for some random product. And that’s it. He has a few other musician friends who are just as big of assholes as he is, but we’ll get to that later. Other than that, we don’t really see him working at all. I think there is one episode about him writing kids’ songs because his girlfriend’s kid likes them. And one about him getting an award?? I don’t know man. The second part of that statement is a much more prominent “personality” trait of Charlie’s. In nearly every episode, we see him “dating” (meaning shagging and then dumping) another woman. I have mentioned in my initial post that this show is misogynistic. Don’t worry, I will also get into that later. For now I’m going to say that Charlie treats all these women absolutely disgustingly and we’re supposed to laugh at that. On the rare occasions we see him in a long term relationship (which happens twice I think? I’m not sure now), we get the stereotypical ball and chain bullshit. The woman takes all his freedom and tries to make him better. While I hate that trope with burning passion, I have to admit that in this case, she does have a solid point. Charlie is a pathetic excuse of a man who has to count on his good looks (questionable) and his riches. By the way, where did he even get them? Does composing jingles really make that much money? Is he that good of a gambler? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen another episode addressing the fact that the answer to both of these questions is no. Where the hell did this luxurious beach-house come from??? So many questions about a show that deserves so little.

Surprisingly, Charlie is the better one out of the two brothers. At the start, we really do feel sorry for Alan. His wife (who is a HORRIBLE person by the way) kicks him out and manipulates him into still paying for everything and doing many things for her around the house. Who wouldn’t feel bad for someone like this? He moves in with Charlie “for the time being”. Soon, we realise that he is not leaving the house anytime soon. He becomes a disgusting leech, a truly pathetic excuse of a man. And he doesn’t even bother hiding it. I’m not sure if we’re supposed to feel sorry for him or laugh at him, but either case doesn’t really work if you spend at least ten seconds thinking about it. How are we supposed to sympathise with a man that lives off of others and barely lifts a finger to change it? The worst part is, the show presents it as something completely normal. We don’t really see Alan’s actions turning against him, do we? Most of the time, whatever shit he does, works just fine for him. 

Another prominent character is Alan’s son, Jake, who grows up throughout the series. A fat little boy, not exactly bright. A spoiled brat (if it’s the fault of Alan or Judith is questionable) that has everything handed to him, as Charlie points out in one episode. It’s another bad personality trait that we’re supposed to find funny. And at first, we kind of do. But once again, as the show progresses, it gets worse. Jake becomes the oldest kid in his class because he fails so many times. He only gets to start middle school because “he’s too big for the desks in his class now”. A bit of a watered down Dudley Dursley now that I think about it. It feels that the older Jake gets, the dumber he is. He eventually joins the military because he is too daft to realise. (If I remember correctly, that was done only so Jake’s actor could leave the show because he pretty much realised how bad it was.)

The main reason why I hate this show so much, however, is its way of handling female characters. There’s a few prominent ones - the aforementioned Judith, Alan’s ex wife, a cold hearted manipulative bitch, that also follows the trope of “I’m breaking up with you because I’m a lesbian” for a while, but then it’s never addressed again, not even once. Then we have Alan and Charlie’s mother, Evelyn, also a cold hearted bitch lacking any motherly instincts whatsoever that the men blame for how they turned out. Honestly, I can kind of see it. There’s Rose, Charlie’s neighbour whom he had slept with once and who’s been obsessed with him ever since, following him pretty much wherever he goes and inappropriately visiting him, usually in order to chase any woman that gets close to him away. We have Berta, Charlie’s housekeeper that I would like to believe is there to show the differences between different classes, as she has a large family to take care of, fending of her daughters’ admirers and dealing with drug and alcohol issues. But at this point we all know she’s only there so we can laugh at her struggles and the witty remarks she likes to make. 

A special category of women in this show are the lovers and girlfriends. All of them end up either leaving the men for someone better (good for them tbh), or getting left by them. But remember, we’re supposed to always be siding with the men. The women are there for us to laugh at and hate. Rose the stalker? The only reason Charlie never gets rid of her is so we can laugh as she appears unexpected on his balcony over and over again. Are her apparent mental health issues ever addressed? Maybe once, but as a joke. You know, the classic ha ha ha ha look an insane person that’s hilarious. Judith the ex wife and her flock of weird friends (that Charlie converts)? Look, evil wives hating men, ha ha ha ha. Better run away from there, men, or they’ll eat you alive! Ha ha ha ha. Judith wanting support from friends and claiming she deserves to be happy is played off as something we scoff at. Chelsea, Charlie’s girlfriend and fiancée? The ball and chain thing, similarly to Judith, but not nearly as manipulative - this one we can see really means well and wants to help Charlie, but he’s a Man™ and cannot handle that, despite claiming to love her very dearly. Lindsay, Alan’s on again, off again girlfriend? Oof. Where to even start with that one. As most of the characters (save for maybe Judith), she starts off decent, despite her inexplicable desire for Alan. (Seriously though what in the world is up with that.) Also, now that I mentioned Alan’s weird sex appeal (not to me but to the female characters of the show, ew), what the hell was up with Judith wanting to suddenly fuck him again and HIM ENDING UP BEING THE FATHER OF HER DAUGHTER???? Was that the point when the writers just said “you know what, fuck this” or?

Some additional things the men on the show did to women:

Infidelity. Aka “ha ha ha many women want man what a lucky bastard he gets to fuck many women ha ha ha oh no he’s been caught ha ha ha funny”.

Infidelity with their friends/family members. I’m pretty sure this happened multiple times. One of the male protagonists gets a girlfriend. Girlfriend has an attractive daughter. Man sleeps with daughter. Girlfriend is mad. Man claims that it is actually a compliment to her because the daughter is just a younger version of her. Man gets upset when girlfriend disagrees. Poor man, girlfriend mean :(((

Another thing I would like to point out is the show’s dumbass approach to sexuality and gender. It’s the age old, straight men bullshit that lesbians = hot, gay men = ew. We see that throughout the whole thing a bunch of times. Alan ends up marrying Walden (whom I will talk about as well) so they can scam an adoption agency. That’s just wrong, man. That’s awful. And regarding gender, the way this shitshow handles trans people is disgusting. I can currently only think of one instance of this, but I have a feeling it happened multiple times, but with Charlie and Alan. They meet a woman, flirt, sleep together, all fun and games. But for some god forsaken reason, after all is done, the woman decides to be like “yeah by the way I used to be a dude” and?? Why?? First of, why would any trans person want to tell anyone their deadname and other things after successfully transitioning? I’m a cis woman, but this really makes no sense to me. Please correct me if I’m wrong on this one, but if you’ve spent years trying to pass as whatever gender you identify with, transitioned, you wouldn’t exactly go around sleeping with people and afterwards telling them about it, would you? And second of all, the entire reason why these characters appear are so we can be like “eww he slept with someone who used to have a penis eww” and laugh as they have a small crisis because of it. Just. Why?? I am aware that this is a thing other shows do/have done as well, but it really bothers me. And even when the guy decides to roll with it, all we get are those jokes that the woman is “more manly” than him. I remember vividly Alan hooking up with a trans lady and briefly dating her, only so we can see her pick a fight with a man, pay for their food and shit and Alan being flustered because he feels like less of a man. Again, please correct me if I’m wrong since my knowledge of gender is limited, but I’m about 97 % sure this is not how it works.

One would have thought that most of this would end after Charlie’s death. His place is taken by Walden Schmidt, portrayed by the angel that is Ashton Kutcher, a “billionaire internet entrepreneur who has recently been divorced and is now suicidal” (wiki). Before I dig in to how it actually got worse, let’s talk about Walden for a while. He really is a nice change. Walden is a genuinely good character, we see him working super hard and treating women well and just being great. I actually like him. The problem the show has when it comes to him is treating his suicidal-ness as just another little joke. Ha ha ha man wants to die man weak. Funny. But as we get over this part (rather quickly tbh), things involving Walden get actually good (besides the part where he sleeps with Alan’s mother). We do see some annoyingly familiar divorce related things, but in contrast to Alan, we see Walden actually get back on his own two feet. 

Alan will forever be my biggest issue with this show. I don’t know if he gets worse or if it’s just the contrast with Walden that makes it seem that way, but he becomes a bigger and bigger parasite, exploiting Walden’s kindness, becoming a lover to his, at that point, former girlfriend Lindsay and somehow exploiting her current boyfriend? He just goes haywire is what I’m trying to say.

I’m not saying that people like that don’t exist. We see it every day, the rich playboys, the pathetic incels. They are everywhere and we totally should talk about them. But not like this. We shouldn’t feel like we should sympathise with them, we shouldn’t hate those that try to criticise them, or those who want to get rid of them. We shouldn’t laugh when they hurt people around them. Men shouldn’t want to relate to them. Characters like this should be presented as something we should avoid becoming.

“What’s your problem? It’s just something I watch to unwind,” my father scoffs at me as I complain about yet another evening we all have to spend listening to the nonsense Two and Half Men brings us. Yea, maybe for you. Maybe you know better than to treat people around you, especially women, like they’re just something you can play around with and then throw into the sewers. Maybe you give everyone equal respect. (No he doesn’t, by the way.) But you know, with the way this TV channel plays this show over and over and over and over again (five episodes a day, every day, and the second they get to the end, they just start over), there’s probably a number of young people who don’t realise how wrong it is and take what’s said there as something to live by. Maybe they’ll think that it’s okay to use people to their advantage. Maybe they’ll think like a rich entitled middle aged straight white man. That’s my problem. Even though the show ended five years ago, it still lives on our televisions and it still gives us wrong examples on how to live our lives. That’s why I hate the show. Not just the awful writing and “plot” holes. It’s the way it treats people and presents it as something that’s totally fine. 

[watchoutforthefanfics]

Your Heart Thine Destined To Be // Part One

Ship: Eventual Logince, Moxiety, and Dukeceit.

Summary: (Arranged Marriage! AU) Okay, sure. Roman’s in the next place for the crown. Okay, SURE. Roman’s not ready for that, and his parents know this too. So, what’s their solution? Have him marry someone who is, because God knows they aren’t going to let Remus have the crown.

Originally was going to be a comic, but my art skills are wack right now. And I need thissss.

Tags: @enragedbees @dante1138 @arc-gx @logan-sanders-enthusiast @nic-is-here

Let me know if you wanna be tagged!

//◇◇◇\

Okay, yes.

Roman was supposed to be at breakfast right now with his two brothers and his parents, at the long dining table. It was his schedule.

But he was out in the lush forest, climbing a tree instead. Which, he believed, is completely understandable, he should be able to miss breakfast to explore.

To be active? They were going to discourage him from being active? Doubtful.

The way the air bubbled onto his skin, the way that the sunrise lit up the sky, it was all so… perfect.

He wasn’t going to miss it for some… breakfast. He had breakfast everyday, this sunrise… it felt like one in a million.

“Roman!” a voice called to him, low from the bellows and he immediately froze –his father–, “What are you doing up there? It’s time for breakfast, you sho-”

“I know, Dad. It’s just-” Roman groaned, holding onto the trunk as his eyes flocked to the sky (which at this point was a beautiful mix of blue and pink), “-look at this sunrise!”

King Gerald, a burly man with a thick beard (more teddy bearish than you’d think), faltered; his voice pausing and his dark eyes running to the sky.

He watched his father light up, eyes twinkling, and lightly wondered to himself, where would he be if he wasn’t crowned King?

Is this what he always wanted?

“It is,” the King murmured, “-quite beautiful, son.”

Roman sighed, “But?”

King Gerald sighed, straightening his posture, “You– We have duties, Roman; you have to learn to stick to your schedule. How are you supposed to-”

Roman froze, he’s going to say it, he doesn’t think I can rule. His heart pounding, he watched him struggle for words, trying to voice his thoughts, but upon matching his eye, fell silent.

“Roman,” the King sighed with a tired smile, “-you will be an excellent King someday, and a King… has priorities. Of which I am the current King, so you’re coming to breakfast. For your dear old Dad’s sake?”

The prince took a longing glance at the horizon, knowing he didn’t want to stay here, but it was his only option, “Fine… but I want a blueberry muffin.”

His father laughed, his deep belly laugh, “Deal, knucklehead.”

^^^

The castle’s dining room was, as assumed, very shiny with soft carpets and polished wood on every surface. Roman almost liked it almost as much as the ballroom, but with just the bare eye, the two would never compare.

His eyes first rested on his mother, who was sitting with poise, with her light hair and tan skin made to perfection. Her eyes, however, held a glare at her son; purely because of the concern, he’d guess.

“Roman,” she spoke with the softest of tones, with an edge ready to bite just awaiting the sign to launch, “Why are you late for breakfast?”

Roman opened his mouth to explain, but his father spoke first, “No worries, darling. It’s all taken care of.”

With a grateful smile to his father, Roman found his eyes fall to his little brother: Patton. He wasn’t much younger, but he definitely looked it. With his chubby cheeks and doll like blue eyes, Roman found his curly hair was something he’d wanted all his life.

“Good morning, Patton!”

“Roman!” Patton smiled, jumping up and pulling him into a hug, as expected.

“Ooh,” Patton squeaked, “-I have something for you! Don’t let me forget.”

“Will do, Patt.”

And finally, his eyes rested on his twin. His forsaken, nothing-like-him-at-all twin, Remus. He wasn’t ugly per say, but he definitely wasn’t upholding the squeaky clean majesty title with his messy hair and makeup 24/7.

“Remus,” he grumbled, trying to avoid eye contact.

Remus didn’t even look up from… whatever he was drawing on the napkin; Roman honestly didn’t want to know.

“Honey,” his father scoffed, straightening out his newspaper, “-look at this! They’re already asking about the new crowning! What is even-”

“Mi amor,” his mother, Madeline, soothed, “-we’ll talk about this later, yes?”

King Gerard, a large broad shouldered man mind you, pouted, “I’m not that old yet.”

“‘Course not, honey-” his mother hummed, “-the magazines are despicable, you know this.”

“So,” his father added, to move on the conversation, “-what’ve you boys been up to?”

Patton spoke first, careful and considerate, “I’ve made flower crowns for everyone! Our gardener helped me pick ones to match you guys! So… yeah.”

Their mother smiled, “That’s so sweet, I’m sure we’ll love it, kiddo.”

After running her fingers through his hair, she faltered, her glance a little dampened, “Remus? What have you done, honey?”

Remus looked up, his eyes wide, and subtle with the look of… appreciation, “Uh, I painted today. It was a roaring Cyclops, attacking a town, and he’s rippin-”

“Re, buddy-” their father coughed, “-how about we stop there? You can tell us later, when we’re not… eating.”

Remus nodded, his face falling just a smidge, “Yes, sir.”

Roman paused, messing with his food on his plate and quietly humming to a tune he’d had stuck in his head for days.

“Roman?” his mother’s sweet voice broke through, “What about you? How are your studies, training, or… Forgive me, what were you working on?”

“My romance novel?” Roman grinned, attention on his food quickly scrapped, “Oh, it’s swell, mother! My characters are coming together so fast, I swear they’ve got a mind of their own.”

“What about your fencing?” the King acquired, with a puzzled look on his worn face. He’d had about two meetings with a few other leaders that morning, or at least that’s what Roman remembered.

“Yes, uh-” Roman nodded, tapping his chin as if he hadn’t remembered every lesson he’d ever had, “- Ms. Maple is doing wonderfully. I feel such great improvement.”

Breakfast was short-lived after that, Patton kept popping in with puns, and his father was bringing up a few things the kingdom had going on in a few weeks.

“Roman, I’ll have you know-” his father chuckled, shaking his head, “-I’ve been contacted by… many suitors for your hand." 

Roman rolled his eyes, "Dad, stop!”

His mother chuckled, “You’re a very handsome, young man, it only makes sense!”

Roman blushed up to his ears, “Thank you, Mama. That’s very kind of you, but I wish to be swept off my feet for reasons, other than personal gain.”

“Picky,” Remus muttered, as he drew into his napkin harshly.

Roman rolled his eyes, “Says you. Your standards are bare minimum!”

The King raised an eyebrow, a curious expression glazing his dark eyes, “Standards?”

Remus spoke, simply, “A hot guy.”

Roman began, taking a breath, “Taller than me, blue or green eyes, lovely, cute, shared the same interests… Hmm, he HAS to have the softest hair on this Earth. I don’t make the rules-”

“See,” Remus interrupted him, “-picky bitch.”

His mother gasped, but Roman would bet she wasn’t as surprised as you’d assume, “Remus Mich Elliott! You did not just speak like that at the table.”

“Yeah,” Roman hummed, muttering, “-plus, you’re the bitch, bitch.”

“Roman Chase Elliott! I can’t believe you two! No more talking at this table, until you can gather your manners, boys. Right, G?”

Roman’s eyes wafted over to his father’s, his face was flushed and he was hunched over, trying desperately to hold back laughter.

His mother sighed, “You boys are… Patton, are you done with your meal? If so, I say we take a trip to the gardens. Pull some new flowers for the vases I received yesterday?”

Patton smiled, “I’d love to, Mama.”

In a blink, the two were walking out of the dining room with interlocking arms.

It was quiet for a second, then a minute, and then his father finally spoke.

“Is she gone?”

“I-” Roman glanced towards the doorway they had exited through, “I think so, Pops.”

It was in that moment, his father slipped into a body-throwing laughing fit with a red flushed face, and soon Roman felt his own smile squirming up onto his lips.

In just a few seconds, the whole table was full of excess laughing, to a point that the staff had come to check in on them at least 10 times in the past 30 minutes.

“Alright,” the King raised from his seat, wiping his eyes, “-that’s enough playing around. You two, head off to your room.”

Roman paused, his face switching in the quickest of blinks, “But, I thought-”

“Ah, ah, ah-” their father shook his fingers, “-both of you know that Patton, nor your mother, like those words. You both knew better.”

“Father-” Remus groaned, in tune with a sigh of his own.

“Nope,” he shook his head, “-go to your room until lunch, and then apologize to your mother immediately after.”

The twins rolled their eyes, each muttering a disgruntled, “Yes, sir.”

Roman sighed, making his way up the stairs to a place without the sunshine in the morning. He could open up his window, he’d thought, but wouldn’t be the same view from that tree.

He was furious, the kind of furious you’d get when you couldn’t get ice cream as a kid, but he wouldn’t stomp or throw a tantrum. Not that he was past that. 

It was just that his hair was styled to perfection, and he was not doing that disservice to the Earth to lose it.

So, he just made his way up there with every inch of pettiness he could put into his walk. Which, he’d learned to do quite well.

With a dash and a skip, Roman arrived at the dark oak door -edged with an art design he’d carved just a few years ago. 

It was a shield, painted red and yellow, with a castle and the beautiful sun; he’d made it out of pure spite, just because Remus had said he couldn’t.

But, he’d actually loved the design. So, he began to incorporate it throughout his art -the knights he drew held it on their arm, flags on castles were woven with it in a shimmering fabric, outfits adorned the symbol, faces had it painted on their cheeks, and sometimes, he just drew the landscape on it with simple colors and dazzling visuals.

With blink to refocus, Roman pushed open his door, a feeling of urgency suddenly hitting him there as he stood. In a few quick steps, his eyes were blessed with the tower view of the sun beautifully raised in the sky.

He’d always loved the color blue. It had held so many different interpretations, so many different emotions.

Of course, red always had a place in his heart, but blue? It was calm and urgent, like ocean waves and yet also like, a thunderstorm. It could make him float off into a world of wonders, and quietly he would stay there, dreaming of a world where everything was relaxed… and he’d have no impending future.

That woke him up from the dream, the idea that he’d be destined to take care of the kingdom… His eyes shifted from the fluffy clouds above, to the beige-stoned buildings below.

It was beautiful, yes. Flowers sprouted in gardens, scattered throughout every lawn they could be. The roofs were varied, each dressed in a unique trim, that matched up with a unique family –unique people– in each home.

One day, he’d be responsible for them all, all the children giggling through the street, all the hard workers reaching to make ends meet, all the parents who’d had so much life to live, all the elders who chatted away with stories of the past, all the people who deserved… so much better than him.

[sneksue]

Official Post About Lifestyle Changes

The date is January 28, 2021. 

I have not had chickens for a while. It will be 2 years in August. I have been meaning to write something here about all of it, but I either have not had time, or the willpower to go through with it. I was in grieving. 

In June of 2019, I took a trip from my shared homestead in Mississippi to Colorado to do some long distance hiking. I left all of my animals in the care of my ex husband’s mother and her then boyfriend. 

I trusted them to at least do the bare minimum in my animal’s basic care. 

That didn’t happen. They failed night after night to close and lock the coop’s door. They wouldn’t change their water during the day and they did not collect eggs. 

When I had service on my phone during the hike, I checked in with them to find out that because they had not closed or locked the coop door at night, several birds were “missing”, with more missing every day. 

Instead of simply closing the door and providing a safe space for my dear, darling animals to sleep at night, they decided to buy a game camera to see what was happening to them at night. 

Their reasoning had absolutely zero logic, and I was pretty pissed.

They found that raccoons were simply just waltzing into the coops and grabbing birds. The raccoons would drag them away into the woods and feast. 

By the time our trip was almost over, all of my ducks were gone. There were only a few chickens left, and the guinea fowl were all intact due to roosting 50ft up in oak trees. My cat was also “missing”.

I was heartbroken, devastated. I had spent so much money, time, energy, and love to build this flock. I wanted to provide my “family” and myself with sustainable, renewable food in case of a natural disaster. No one seemed to value my efforts, or even care to see what my end goal was. 

On top of grieving for the loss of my feathered babies, my then husband’s younger brother decided to GO OFF on me during our drive back to Mississippi. He claimed I was selfish, psychotic, uncaring, and manipulative. He screamed at me while we were all stuck in the car. He called me a bitch, he called me a liar, he called me a leech. I was stunned in silence. I had been struggling with my mental health for years, and had contemplated suicide more times than I could count. So, it is no surprise that while we were driving 70mph on the interstate, I seriously contemplated opening the car door and leaping out into traffic. 

I turned to my husband, my partner, the love of my life, my support system, to back me up. Defend me. Tell his brother that he was wrong. My husband did nothing of the sort. He remained silent as the verbal barrage from his brother continued. 

Everything clicked for me then. My mother in law was a complete nutcase, she blamed me for all of my husband’s shortcomings. She viewed me as a failure for not being the perfect housewife. She only saw me as a burden on her son’s happiness. My husband maintained an emotional distance from me for several years. He refused to be intimate towards me. He never showed an interest in me, my thoughts, my feelings. He never stood up for me or was proud to show me off. He never commended my strengths and triumphs, he only pointed out what he viewed were my failures. My brother in law was more of a nutcase than his mother, physically abusing his dog and neglecting his cat, leeching off of his mother and getting handouts at every possible opportunity, spending his days smoking hundreds of dollars of marijuana, drinking booze, playing videogames. 

I had no social life, I wasn’t allowed to have a social life. 

I had no friends I could hang out with, all of my friends were online. 

No matter how much I did for these people and how much I excelled at everything I did, nothing was ever enough. I was never enough. 

No wonder I struggled with mental health, eh?

I came to this realization instantaneously, and demanded to be dropped off at my dad’s house in Westminster, CO. 

I had none of my personal belongings besides my hiking and camping stuff. I didn’t care, I just had to get away from these toxic monsters. 

My husband and I loosely decided that this would be a “break” for our relationship, and that he would go back to MS to work and save up to move here with me. I agreed and I began working and saving up myself. 

We both knew he was never going to come here. We were never going to be together again. 

We remained in close contact for a few months after the separation. But the contact and our conversations became fewer and less substantial. 

One night, as I was walking home from work, I called and told him that I thought we should break up. He admitted to me that he had removed his wedding ring over three weeks prior. I was understandably hurt by that, but I did understand. 

He also informed me that all of the birds were gone or dead except for a couple roosters. 

I was more devastated by the loss of my birds than the loss of my marriage. If that doesn’t tell you enough, I don’t know what does!! 

My cat never returned. 

I asked him if we could keep in contact, and he told me he did not want to talk to me or hear from me for several years. I was once again hurt by this, but with his own mental health issues, I again, understood. He did say he can see us being friends in the future, but now that its been some time, I don’t want to be friends with him. I want the best for him, but I can’t bring myself to expose my mentality to his toxicity and negativity. 

I asked again and again, over a period of months, for him to return my belongings. He kept putting it off. I told him I was going to drive down there myself and gather everything i could and dispose of the rest. 

He agreed, initially, then banned me from coming only after I requested the time off from work and had friends to accompany me on the journey, He promised he’d send all my stuff in several shipments after he sold my car. I told him he could keep the profit from the sale of my car and use it to send me my stuff. 

He ended up sending me ONE box of my stuff. And most of it wasn’t even mine. I was appalled and disgusted that he’d be so careless and inconsiderate. 

I sent him messages and requested SPECIFIC items after I received the first box. I got no reply, and no more packages to this day have been sent. 

He and his family stole my property, killed my pets, and broke my heart. 

Thieves, liars, and extremists, the lot of them. 

I grieve daily for the loss of my animals and the torture I was put through for nearly 6 years. 

All of that out of the way, let me move on to tell you what this blog will now feature. 

I have obviously had a change in lifestyle. I no longer live on homesteading land, I live in a roomy two bedroom apartment with my AMAZING fiance. 

My love of chickens, I discovered, was a love for reptiles in general. Cuz birds are reptiles and all that jazz. 

When I met my fiance, I was already blown away by his attitude, confidence, and view on life right off the bat! He inspired me, made me want to be better to myself. 

Meeting him felt weird, at first. It felt weird because I was waiting for this amazing person to... have a catch. There’s gotta be a red flag somewhere. And if there isn’t... he is probably a psychopath who will eventually turn on me and kill me. No one is that... good. 

So I thought to myself, “Welp, gotta find out. I’ll go to his house!”

He had a couple little snakes in his room which I demanded to play with. He happily got them out and I was like “THAT’S the catch? Nah, this just convinces me this guy is... my kind of guy.” 

I’ve had a love of snakes since early childhood. Not an interest of passion, but I truly loved interacting with and watching them. I’ve never had an innate fear of any insect, (exclude honeybee, because I didn’t know better at 6 years old), or animal. I love them all and everything they do to contribute. All they experience. 

I used to catch wild garter snakes and rat snakes in nets, pet them, show them to my mother occasionally to freak her out, and release them. Then watch them. 

There were a mating pair of Oteekee Corn Snakes in my HS yard. Every summer we’d see them, out and about hunting, hiding, climbing... growing. They were bright red and jet black with specks of yellow. I could tell these guys were pretty smart and maybe there was more to snakes than I really thought about ever. 

So, being sold on this amazing guy, we up and moved in together. Nice. My paycheck kept going up and up. I was saving a ton. I wanted a car and an apartment as soon as possible. 

I got bonus after bonus for working hard at my job and everyone hitting labor targets. 

We got a place. Nice. 

Both got steady jobs. Nice. 

There’s uh, a lot of room in this new place. Nice. 

Hey it’s my birthday and I can get myself a snake. I have more than enough for supplies and the animal itself. 

I browsed on morphmarket for what felt like ages.... 

I had no idea that there were.... so many complicated genetics with ball pythons. I was highly interested, because if you know me, you know I’m interested in genetics and selective breeding. 

I found there were THOUSANDS of genetic combinations, each with unique names. It was like alien code. The animals were beautiful but I had no idea what I was really looking at. 

One night while going to our local reptile store to get feeder rats, I was looking around at all the glass window babies, as I usually do. 

I made my way around the scorpions, tarantulas, cave scorpions, frogs, lizards, the store’s companion burmese python, and my eyes landed on a little... adorable puppy-eyed baby ball python. The signage stated that it was a Puma. Seemed simple enough. Easy name to remember. I looked into the glass at the lil noodle, and talked all baby talk and shit. The sweet little thing came right up to scope at me, then yawned. 

I called an employee over and said I’d like to handle this animal right here. The employee obliged and I fell in love. Sexed as male. Easy buy. 

I cried on the way home, It was amazing. I have one picture on here of him a few days after I got him. His name is Mallow, and he is bigger now, but still just as sweet. 

So yeah. It went from there. Now, including the boa and ball python that are my fiance’s, and Mallow, we have added 3 more to our family. We are done now, as these animals may live a loooooong time. And they require space and attention just like any other pet. They’re not expensive, and they’re low maintenance care is nearly brainless if you set it up right. They’re statistically and actually safer than dogs or cats, and are absolutely therapeutic and entertaining. 

This blog will from this day forward be dedicated to snake content, reptile content, and a lot more fun, actually good pictures. I will also share genetic related stuff I find relevant. 

Not having a shitty phone camera is pretty great, tbh. 

TLDR: No more homestead. Ex is evil (yeah yeah), New place new animal new me. SNAKES! SNAKES!!!! SNAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKEEEEESSSSS!

I know this post is just for me but whatever, if I make myself laugh. Cool. G’night. 

[komotionlessqueenmm]

The Phoenix & The King (Part 1)

Short Story # 1

Harald X Oc

Words - 1,931

Year posted - 2020

Bare in mind.

Gregor is 6'9 Sandor is 6'6 Jade is 6'4 Harald is 5'9

The arrival of the Clagane siblings had been an anticipated and nervous year for Kattegat. Why? Because when the news reached Queen Aslaug that they were headed for Kattegat, she and everyone else had assumed it was not a good thing. She like many others had heard the rumors about the Clagane siblings, how brutal and merciless they were. How they would kill anyone standing in their way without a second thought. But what made the rumors so worrying was that they were rumored to be giants, or atleast part giant. So Queen Aslaug sent for King Harald and his army, to aid her and her people if need be. Harald agreed and set sail for Kattegat with his brother and a small army, not believing he would need all of his men if there was even a fight. They arrived a month before the Claganes, and in that time Harald and his brother sat at the main road leading into Kattegat, watching and waiting for their arrival. Oftentimes talking about the rumors going around about the siblings.

The day finally arrived as the Clagane siblings rode into Kattegat. The sight of the three siblings perched upon some of the largest draft horses Harald or anyone else had ever seen. "They really are giants." Halfdan breathed out in surprise watching as they dismounted simultaneously. "The biggest guy must be The Mountain, that would mean the one with the wolf helmet is The Hound, and their sister." Harald cut his brother off. "The Phoenix." He breathed out unable to take his eyes off of the tall woman. "Why do you suppose they call her that?" Halfdan wondered aloud. "Because she's nearly been killed in battle many times, but she always recovers within no time. She's believed to be impossible to kill." Harald replied to his brother pointing to her face subtlety. "They say she is covered from head to toe in those scars, and they say the scars on her face are the fewest on her body." Harald then pointed to The Hound, who had just removed his helmet. "And him, rumors say that The Mountain did that to him when they were children, melted his own brothers face because he was playing with The Mountains toys." Halfdan shook his head in disbelief watching The Mountain as he handed his horse off to a stable boy. "Come let's go greet the giants." Harald nudged his brother with his elbow, the both of them standing together figuring if they Claganes were hear to fight they would have known by now. "Let me be the first to welcome you all to Kattegat." Harald smiled tilting his head up a little to meet their gaze. "I am King Harald of Vestfold and this is my brother Halfdan." He smacked the back of his brothers shoulder with a small laugh. "It's a pleasure to meet you King Harald." Phoenix offered a small smile, ignoring the scoffs from her brothers. "I didn't realize we were expected." She added eyeing the King and his brother. "Yes well the news of your arrival was worrisome for Queen Aslaug, we have been awaiting you for some time now." Phoenix arched a brow. "Worrisome?" She all but hissed. "We have heard how fearsome and formidable you three are on the battlefield, Queen Aslaug had been worried that your arrival here wasn't a social one." Phoenix craned down to look Harald in the eyes when he finished speaking. "Do you really think you'd stand a chance against us, if we had wanted to tear this place apart?" The sinister gleam in her eyes caused Harald's heart to race, his stomach knotting in anticipation of being in such close proximity of her. "If the rumors are to be believed, I would imagine we wouldn't." He answered truthfully, his words causing Phoenix to smirk. "Smart man." She stood to her full height as Queen Aslaug made her way over, her son's trailing behind, while many of the townsfolk flocked around the nearby area to see the giants for themselves. "You must be The Phoenix." Aslaug smiled up at the taller woman. "Jade will do fine your grace." Phoenix bowed her head respectively. "Come you all should rest, I'm sure your journey was tiring." Aslaug smiled politely turning back to the Great Hall, the Claganes following her, then Harald and Halfdan following behind. "She's incredible." Harald muttered to his brother staring at Jades ass.

---A little while later---

"I'm going hunting, don't do anything stupid while I'm gone." Phoenix warned her brothers whom rolled their eyes in return. "Fuck off." Gregor scoffed downing the rest of his ale. "I'll be back later." She ignored her brother's harsh words a she left the Great Hall, Harald trailing after her. "Would you like me to join you?" Harald asked as Phoenix was removing her bow from her horses saddle. "I hunt best alone." She answered without even looking his way, as she tied her quiver onto her belt. "Well I wish you luck." Harald was disappointed she had declined his offer, but he smiled anyways watching her stalk away towards the woods.

---A few short hours later---

Steadying her bow Phoenix held her breath ready to take the shot, the buck a hundred yards away unaware of his nearing end. But before she was able to release the sting of her bow a strong force slammed into her back, knocking her bow out of her hands the arrow firing and missing its target. Quickly Phoenix spun on her heel as five wolves began circling her. "Fuck." She muttered to herself pissed she didn't bring her sword, and knowing she couldn't get to her bow. The first wolf lunged and Phoenix was able to catch it by the ribs, throwing it as hard as she could into a tree, the sheer force breaking the beasts back killing it. Pulling her dagger from her belt she stabbed the second wolf in the heart as it leapt at her. Managing to slash the thirds throat as she removed her blade from the second wolf. The fourth and fifth wolf's collided into her side knocking her down, her dagger sinking into her left shoulder, the pain only angering her more. The fourth wolf lunged for her throat as she got back to her feet, the blade still buried in her flesh. Without thinking Phoenix caught the fourth wolf by its bottom jaw, her hand inside its mouth. The beast tried biting down as Phoenix pulled its jaw down harshly, practically ripping the jaw clean off killing the wolf. The last wolf was clearly the alpha and was smarter than the others, so before Phoenix could prepare herself the fifth wolf latched itself onto her right forearm, knocking her onto her back. It's teeth tearing the flesh apart with ease, since she came in some simple leather armor rather than her normal metal armor. Crying out in both pain and anger Phoenix grabbed a large rock from beside her, slamming it into the beasts skull until it stopped breathing. Adrenaline and anger pumping through her veins Phoenix tossed the wolf aside then grabbed her bow. Figuring she shouldn't go back empty handed she roped the wolves together and slung the rope across her chest, being careful of the dagger still sticking out of her shoulder.

Trudging back to Kattegat was an angry journey for Phoenix, the pain only fueling the hate filled fire within her. And as she emerged from the woods covered in blood, Harald's heart froze. She walked passed his shocked form and made her way to the Great Hall, droplets of sweat running down her face and neck. It wasn't until Phoenix handed the wolves off to a slave that Harald was able to urge his body to move, jogging to follow her into the Great Hall. "Jade what happened?" Harald questioned as she barged into the Great Hall, the commotion starling everyone inside, the sight of Jade all bloody caused panic to rise in Aslaug. "I was attacked by those wolves." Phoenix grunted flopping down at a table off the side of the main room, a slave running to her side with clean water and rags. "Bring me a needle and some thread." Phoenix instructed the slave as she removed the ruined brace on her arm, then pulling the dagger from her shoulder with a deep growl rumbling in her chest. "Hold this against the wound would you?" Phoenix handed Harald a rag, working around him removing her upper armor to have better access to the gash. Harald had quickly sank to his knees beside her holding the rag in place, his heart racing a mile a minute. The slave came back a moment later with the needle and thread, and attempted to patch Phoenix up. "Don't." The woman growled shooing the slave away, then Harald's hands. Grabbing another rag Phoenix dipped it into the bowl of water, then began cleaning her shoulder. Once the wound was clean she stitched it shut, growling in pain every so often. After that was finished she got to work on her right arm, cleaning then stitching the already scarred flesh. "Let me." Harald muttered taking the wrapping from her hand to wrap her arm himself. "I'm fine King Harald." She sighed in annoyance at the throbbing pain in her arm. "I know you are, just let me help." He smiled at her with sincere eyes. "You should go before my brother's arrive, they may kill you." She added as he finishing up his handy work. The Great Hall doors bursting open before Harald could speak. "To late." She muttered as Gregor and Sandor marched over to her side, their anger wafting off of them in waves, making everyone within the hall shiver in fear, all except Phoenix. "What the fuck happened?" Sandor bellowed practically shoving the King aside without a care. "I was being hunted by wolves." She stated as if it was obvious, cleaning the blood from her hands. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Gregor growled at the King, glaring down at him. "He was only trying to help." Phoenix cut in before Harald would make the mistake of challenging her brothers. "Like hell he was, he's been eyeing you since we arrived. Planing to have you bent over like some bitch, until he's done with you." Gregor accused causing Phoenix to stand to her full height, shoving her eldest brother back. "You shut your fucking mouth Gregor." She threatened with a dangerous look in her eyes. "Stop being a whinny little cunt and sit back down, I need to make sure you stitched it right." Sandor intervened not so lightly shoving his sister back down, closely inspecting her work. "Stay away from her." Gregor warned the King before leaving the Great Hall again. "This isn't the first time I've stitched myself up, my work is fine." Phoenix argued with Sandor who sent her the faintest hint of a smile. "I know I just didn't want you and Gregor to tear this place apart trying to kill eachother." Sandor grunted before leaving the Great Hall as well. "I'm sorry about them." Phoenix offered an apologetic smile to Harald. "Don't be their only protecting their little sister." He smiled warmly. "Would you like to walk with me?" Phoenix asked standing to her full height, practically towering over the fawning King. "It would be my honor." He offered her another smile, following her out of the Great Hall. Leaving everyone in the Great Hall confused, and a little fearful.

[cherrybracelets]

this years love /chapter one/

playlist | masterlist

pairing: a modern/college au love triangle between billy, reader, and steve

summary: reader is a junior at nyu, and lives with her best friends steve, jonathan, and nancy. her life gets complicated when a new mysterious student, billy, moves in next door to them

word count: 4.3k / warnings: alcohol mention, drug mention

There were a few places you didn't want to find yourself on a busy autumn day in New York. The backseat of Peter's car was one of them. Although he had been driving your family around for years, no one had ever mentioned his absolutely terrifying driving. Peter weaved in and out of lanes, flying up busy streets well above the speed limit. Every turn he took made last nights alcohol swish around in your stomach. A wave of queasiness fell over you, and you closed your eyes and leaned your head back, taking a few deep breaths to keep the contents inside of you and not all over the leather interior of your dads car.

"Honey, are you listening to me?" Your moms voice sharply interrupted your thoughts, making you snap your head up towards her.

"I'm doing my best not to," you responded, rolling your eyes at her. Next to you, your twin brother Cody sat staring at his phone, letting out a small laugh at your comment.

"Both of you, stop disrespecting your mother. She only wants what's best for you," your father responded, frustration and exhaustion running through his raspy voice. It wasn't easy being one of the most powerful attorneys in New York, you couldn't imagine how much constant stress he was under. Having to be a father, having to have a family, only added more onto his plate. And for the most part, he just let the excess fall off the sides while he was pushing around the other, more important aspects of his life.

"You talk to us like we're going into our freshman year, mom. This is our third year, we understand how to 'do college'." Your brother set his phone down beside him to finally join the conversation.

"Did you not hear what happened to the Thompsons? How their son completely embarrassed their whole family after his little LSD stunt at the White Party! I just don't want that happening to you, okay? To our family. Could you imagine how that would look, how that would affect your father?" Your mom crossed her arms and let out a sigh, leaning back into the seat of the car. She turned her head to look out the window, letting the tall buildings of New York pass her by.

"We've spent our whole lives working hard to protect our families image, mom. That's all we know." You looked at your father, whose eyes met yours, and he shook his head slightly. He then moved his glance to Cody, who was back on his phone, but looked approvingly at your comment. You brother didn't look up at your father, who just shook his head again. He took your moms hand in his, and squeezed it tight. She turned towards him with a slight smile, and then back at the two of you.

The car took a sudden sharp turn to the side, and Peter slammed on the breaks to park the car at the curb. You all jolted a bit when he stopped the car. You put your hand over your mouth and swallowed, a bit afraid the jerking motion would throw your stomach through your mouth. Luckily you managed to keep your cool, and you opened your door to step out onto the curb.

You looked ahead of you at your favorite place, your true home. A perfect little brownstone at the edge of campus, ivy climbing up the brick, tattered stone stairs leading to the doorway. You smiled at her, your cozy little place, happy to be back here and out of the shadow of your parents. Cody came up behind you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close to him.

"God, there's no words to describe how happy I am to be back here," he whispered, laying his head down on your shoulder, a flock of his auburn hair falling into your face, making you laugh and push him away from you. The door to your building suddenly swung open, a smiling young man running out to greet you.

"(Y/N)!" He yelled, wrapping his hands around your waist and picking you up, hugging you tightly. You squeezed him back, burying your head into his neck. He smelled like vanilla, a smell that had stayed with him or as long as you had known him.

"Steve!" You screamed back, holding your best friend in your arms for the first time in three months.

"How was Barcelona? God I missed you, you son of a bitch!" You yelled, regaining your balance as he set you back on the ground.

"Language," your father mumbled, flipping through emails on his phone.

"How are you, Mr. Willows?" Steve asked, putting his hand out in front of your father for a hand shake.

"I'm fine, how are you, Steve?" Your father shook his hand slightly, letting go almost instantly. Your father had no personal issues with Steve, he just treated him like he treats everyone- coldly, and without much care.

"Amazing, now that I'm back home with all of you. Cody!" He exclaimed, pulling your brother into a bear hug. Cody hugged him back, almost as excited to see him as you were.

"I can't wait to hear everything about your trip, bro," Cody said.

"Once Nancy and Jonathan get here I promise I'll share everything. Robin's upstairs taking a shower," he said, updating you on the locations of your other roommates.

"I just texted Nancy, they should be here within the hour," you chimed in, waving your phone to show the message.

"Awesome! Let's get your stuff inside and set up," Steve said, grabbing hold of a few of your bags that were set on the ground by Peter. You turned to pick up the rest of your bags, and saw Cody taking hold of his as well.

"So we'll see you soon, yes?" Your mom said. You had almost forgotten they were there, the overwhelming joy of being back had almost erased them from your memory. You turned around, smiling at your parents, who were both clearly trying to get out of here as soon as possible, just like you and Cody.

"Yeah, for sure. We'll call," you said, motioning to Cody, who nodded quickly.

"Alright, well, we love you." Your father put his phone in his pocket and smiled at you, his way of saying he was going to miss you. It was the bare minimum of showing emotion, but it was all you expected. Your mom reached out to hug you, but you motioned her away, saying you couldn't set your bags down.

"Peter will have the rest of your stuff dropped off tonight." Your dad said, opening the door to his car and taking out his phone, already forgetting the short moment of emotions he was feeling.

You turned around and followed Steve inside your house, Cody following behind you. You walked through the entrance way of the brownstone, greeted by a beautiful grand staircase in the center of the room. The September sunlight poured in through the tall windows, filling the house with a warmth that was hard to find in most buildings in the city. There was a slight lingering smell of pot, so many college kids lived here throughout the years that the smell was permanently stuck in the walls. You set your bags down on the wooden floors, making a slight sound, breaking the silence.

"We figured we'd keep the same rooms as last year, is that cool?" Steve asked, breaking through your thoughts.

"Yeah, I don't see why not," Cody said, walking down the hall and into his room. You picked up one of your bags, knowing you could only carry one at a time up the long staircase.

"Hey, I'll get it, no worries," Steve said, walking over to you and grabbing the bag from your hands. He grabbed another one and began walking up the stairs, and you followed closely behind. The two of you walked into your bedroom, only the sounds of you breathing filling the air around you. Walking through the door of your room from last year gave you chills, a feeling of deja vu creeping over you. Your memories in here were... all over the place. You shook your head, as if trying to get the negative emotions out of your brain.

"I'll go grab the rest of your bags," Steve mumbled, setting the first two on the floor. You walked over to him and hugged him, taking him by slight surprise. He hugged you back, the two of you standing in silence, enjoying each others presence for the first time in a while. You really had missed him, things weren't the same when he wasn't around. Like a piece of your own self missing, floating just out of reach of you.

"I'm glad to be back here, Steve. It's been a long summer. I couldn't stand another second in that house with her..." you trailed off, looking at the floor of your bedroom, remembering the time last year when you dropped a cigarette and burnt a hole so deep through the floor you swore you could see through.

"You should've came with me this summer, I told you you could," Steve protested, pushing the hair out of your face and cupping your face.

"I'd rather not spend the summer third wheeling with you and Sarina!" You responded, laughing slightly and turning away from Steve.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that actually," Steve said, walking over to your bed and sitting down. He patted his hand on the space next to him, telling you to come over.

"What's up?" You looked at him, a sorrow falling over his face. He looked at his hands and fiddled with his fingers, hoping you would grab them, and hold them in your own. But you didn't, you just kept watching his face, his lips, wondering what he was going to tell you.

"Sarina and I split, a few weeks ago, actually. Some stuff happened, over there... and... uh," Steve cleared his throat and shifted on the bed, avoiding your eye contact, not wanting you to see him like this.

"Steve, you guys had been together since freshman year... I thought she was it for you... what happened?" You moved your body towards him, wanting to reach out and wrap him in your arms.

"I don't want to get into all of it, is that okay?" He looked up at you, a shiny glare of tears over his eyes. He blinked them back, determined not to let a single drop fall. You nodded at him, insuring you would let it rest until he was ready to talk. You started to reach your hand out to his, but your motion was interrupted by the feeling of your phone vibrating in your lap. You diverted your hand away from him and to your phone, picking it up quickly.

"Nancy and Jonathan are here!" You said enthusiastically, almost forgetting the previous moment. "Let's go downstairs!" You hopped off the bed and began jogging happily down the stairs. Steve followed quietly and slowly, watching you intently. He loved the way your face completely lit up whenever you got excited.

You ran through the front door, swinging it open excitedly. You saw Nancy standing on the sidewalk, looking intensely at her phone with her lips pursed. Jonathan was talking to the driver, turned completely away from you.

"Nance!" You screamed, running joyously to her. She held out her arms and pulled you into a deep hug. You rocked her back and forth, shrieking like an annoying sorority girl.

"(Y/N)! God I can't believe we're back here already. I've never been more happy about anything in my life, I swear to god," she giggled, your hands still in hers. Jonathan came up behind her, putting his arm around her waist and kissing her on the cheek.

"That makes me feel real good, babe," he laughed, squeezing her tightly to his body. You opened your mouth to talk, but your voice was drowned out by the sound of a loud motor driving up the street. The three of you turned your heads to see a motorcycle weaving in and out of cars. The bike was zooming quickly up the street, surely going somewhere far away- but it came to a sudden halt right on the curb in front of you.

A man sporting a black leather jacket ripped off the helmet, shaking his head and ruffling his hair as he did so. He set the helmet on the bike and turned off the ignition, throwing the keys in his jacket pocket. He looked over to you guys, sporting a flashy smile, and heading over to the house next to yours. As he was was walking up the stairs, the door to the house swung open, and your neighbor James walked out.

"Sup, Billy," he said to the motorcycle boy, slapping him up as they past each other. Billy gave him a slight head nod before walking into the house behind him. You looked over at James, who saw you guys and waved, walking over to greet you.

"Hey guys! I was hoping to God you'd be my neighbors again this year. Our double house parties last year were insane!" James gushed, smiling brightly.

"Hey... who's that douchebag that just walked into your house?" You asked, motioning towards the motorcycle parked in front of you.

"Oh shit, that's Billy. We had to get a new roommate since Jake Thompson went postal and did all that acid at the Governors Ball. His parents won't let him come back this year. So... he seems pretty cool, just transferred here this year." James shrugged his shoulders and almost immediately changed the subject, decided the topic was already boring him. "We're having a party tonight to kick off the year, you guys obviously have to stop by."

"Of course, bro. We'd be throwing one ourselves if we didn't have you," Jonathan responded, doing some stupid high school handshake him and James had. You grabbed on to Nancys hand and walked her inside, telling her about Steve and Sarina.

"Are you serious? He was in love with her for real!" She said, flopping down on the bed in her and Jonathans room.

"I know, I can't believe it either. It had to have been her... right? He wouldn't have ended it, no way." You sat next to Nancy, laying your head on her shoulder. You stared at the empty walls of her room, almost forgetting what it had looked like when it was decorated. You had spent many nights in here, crying on the floor over some boy, or hiding from Jonathan when they were fighting. You dragged your eyes toward the window, looking at the building across the street, wondering what life was like over there.

Jonathan came barging through the door, dropping bags on the floor almost instantly. He flopped down on the bed, next to the two of you, catching his breath.

"I appreciate the help, ladies," he said, sarcastically. Nancy just rolled her eyes and pushed him playfully. Soon after, Robin and Steve made their way into the room, along with Cody. The six of you all sat, for what seemed like hours, just chatting, catching up. You had felt at home right here, these were your people. You held Nancys hand in yours, looking over to her and smiling.

"You glad to be back?" You asked her.

"Of course. This is my family!" She squeezed your hand back, and the two of you both zoned back in to the conversation, listening to Robin finish her story about the crazy Russian girl she hooked up with in LA.

A few hours had passed since you first got back to the house, and things were much mores settled now. The rest of your stuff had gotten dropped off, and your room was almost completely put together. Everyone seemed zoned out, in their own little worlds, trying to put their lives back together in this house, trying to bring back what they all lost just a few months ago when summer started.

You stood at the kitchen counter next to Cody, who was pulling cash out of his wallet to hand to you.

"Are you sure you don't mind to pick the food up?" He said, shoving his wallet back into his pocket.

"It's like, right across the street. I'd like to get out of here for a while, anyways. Nancy and Jonathan are already working on christening the room," you said, raising your eyebrows at Cody and laughing. "I'll be back in a bit." You put your bag around your shoulder and began walking out of the house, over to the diner across the street. The air was still warm, not yet having the autumn chill you were all too familiar with. But it was coming, you could sense it, almost smell the decaying leaves in the air. You threw your face up to the sky and let the sun hit your face, not knowing how much longer you would have to absorb the rays.

You walked slowly to the restaurant, taking in the energy of the city. You got to the doors, and the familiar smell of warm bread and wine filled you. This was one of your absolute favorite places, the late nights and early mornings you had spent in these booths, laughing with your friends or crying alone- they were your best memories. This place held a special place in your heart. You walked in through the doors, smiling at the torn leather booths, delicious looking cakes in the displays, old music playing on the radio.

You walked eagerly towards the counter, taking a seat on the stools. There was a menu in front of you, but you already knew what you want. You pushed it away from you, slightly, so the waitress would know you're ready to order.

"Think you could recommend me something good here?" A voice said, making you jump in shock. You turned around, and to your surprise, were greeted by Motorcycle. His dirty blonde hair was slicked back, revealing a perfectly chiseled face. His facial hair perfectly surrounded his lips, which were pillowy and looked soft.

"What type of food do you like?" You responded, still looking deeply at his face, taking in every piece of him that you could. He sat in the stool next to you, and sat a plastic shopping bag on the counter. You noticed the logo was of a popular book store chain, and you tried to peak inside at the contents, but couldn't make anything out.

"I'll eat just about anything," he whispered, a devilish smile crawling over his handsome face.

"Well, I won't, so maybe I'm not the best person to ask," you said, winking at him and turning back to face the bar. Billy let out a small chuckle, and bit down on his lip, looking you up and down.

"I'm Billy. I'm new around here... just transferred."

"So I've heard," you tilted your head towards him, smiling. "Doesn't impress me much, sorry."

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm not trying to impress. You're already impressed by me, why should I try harder?" He chuckled again, raising his eyebrows at you.

"What have you done to impress me?" You responded, raising your voice in annoyance.

"You'll figure it out, one way or another." He grabbed his bag and held it tightly. You stared at it again, still curious about what he would be reading. "Will I see you at my party tonight?"

"I don't know, I don't really have any reason to go."

"Of course you do, it's to see me." He licked his lips slightly before smiling again at you. He stood up, towering over you as he did. He turned away and began walking out, but turned around to face you before he finally made his grand exit.

"By the way, are you going to tell me your name so I know who I have a crush on, at least?" He tilted his head at you, pouting like a lost dog.

"It's (Y/N)," you said, rolling your eyes to try and hide your giggling.

"Also-" he said, reaching in to the plastic bag and pulling out a thick book. "It's just one of my advanced engineering textbooks. I know you were wondering. I'm smart- it's crazy, I know." Billy smiled at you and put the book back in the bag. He then snapped his fingers at you, saying "Look at that, just impressed you, girl."

You laughed to yourself as he walked out the door, turning around and shaking your head. You had already been planning on going to James's party, but now you had a little bit more incentive. You couldn't get him out of your head- his smile, his eyes, his body... you felt yourself melt a little as you thought about seeing him tonight, the lights of the city glowing in his eyes. What he looked like underneath his leather and denim exterior.

"You ready to order, sweetie?" A voice asked, tearing you away from your impure thoughts. You nodded, ordering your dinner and trying to push thoughts of him deep inside, afraid to let them out.

The intensity of the music blaring at this party was through the roof- you could literally feel the vibrations through your whole body. Holding on to your drink without letting it spill was becoming an extremely difficult task, and the chaos of the night was too obnoxious for you to even try and have a good time. Everyone else seemed to be having a great time, but you needed a break, you needed fresh air. You pushed your way through crowds of sweat drenched drunk people, trying to find the back door. You were sure there would be a crowd outside as well, but at least you would be able to breath.

You finally found the door, opening it quickly and stumbling outside onto a small wooden porch. You ran over to the side of it, grabbing onto the edge and throwing your head back, letting the cool nighttime air hit your face. You opened your eyes and saw the moon staring back at you, shining in its brightest form tonight. You stared at her, letting the power of her light pour into you.

"Beautiful night out, wouldn't you say?" A familiar voice spoke behind you. You turned around, moving your gaze to Billy. He was nursing a cup of clear liquid, a few ice cubes moving about. He took a swig, flinching a bit as whatever liquor it was burned down his throat.

"Why am I always running in to you? I can't have a moment of peace without you interrupting me." You set your drink down on the ledge and crossed your arms.

"For the record, you actually came out here... so it seems like you're the one bothering me." Billy took another sip, and then a few steps towards you. You could smell his drink now- pure vodka. You cringed a bit at the thought, prompting you to take a drink of your mostly-juice mixed drink.

"I just needed some fresh air... it's a lot in there." You finished off your drink in one large sip, letting the liquor run through your veins. Billy took another step, and was now only about a foot away from you. You felt the warmth of his breath, and the heat of his alcohol fueled body. You wanted to go even closer, to feel the burn of his hot skin against your cold flesh.

"Yeah, we didn't expect this many people. Guess word got out." Billy finished off his own drink, setting his empty cup on the ledge next to yours. Both of your hands were free, dangling only inches from each other. You swung your arm gently, brushing the tips of your fingers against his. His touch, however light it may have been, sent a shiver through your whole body. You pulled away from him quickly, turning your head away from his gaze.

"I think I'm gonna go find my friends, I'll, uh, talk to you soon." You started to walk towards the door, back inside to the crowded hell that was a college house party. His hand met yours, pulling you back around towards him. His fingers were intertwined in yours, your face only inches away. You pulled your hand out of his lock and stepped back. He pulled his phone out of his pocket at handed it to you.

"Put your number in here, so I can make sure you get home safe later." He held his phone out, hands slightly trembling from the alcohol coursing through him.

"I literally live next door, you can watch me go in the house," you laughed.

"But how do I know you made it all the way to your bedroom okay? I have to hear directly from you," he whispered, now putting the phone directly in your hand. His touch made you shiver again, a craving growing deep inside of you. You nodded and added your number, handing the phone back to him.

"I'll text you later... too make sure you're home."

"Yeah... I'll make sure I let you know I'm safe." You turned away from him, and back through the doors of the house. You pushed through the crowd again, trying to make your way to the kitchen to pour another drink, thoughts of Billy, thoughts of his touch, racing through your mind- waiting excitedly at the thought of him texting you.

[deniigi]

Hey idk how many asks ur getting but I hope ur not being bombarded or anything. If u could, would u write a scene where jack loses little!matt cuz oops Matt just ran off during errands. He runs into various NYC heroes/vigilantes and in the end Matt has them all trailing him as they try to find jack together. Meanwhile jack panics and anxiety.

This got long and definitely wasn’t quite what you were thinking of, but I think it’s still pretty okay.

I’m putting the 2nd half under the cut since it’s so long (sorry mobile folks)

—

There was a huge fanfare in the streets; some guy with money was apparently strolling through the Kitchen and folks had come out to stare back at him when he started eyeing up their buildings, as was their way. Santiago’s was helping this by leaving a couple of folding tables outside the restaurant doors with ‘Make Peace Not Weapons’ fliers on it next to a couple of flats of eggs.

What was to be done with said eggs was not stated. People around here just knew.

None of that had ever been Jack’s bag, honestly. He was busy. Politics had always been background noise to his daily scrounging and scraping and really, this crowd was going to be the death of him.

He caught Rudy and the others crowded around the doorway of the gym and scream-asked over the noise of the crowd gathering around the edges of the streets if they’d seen Matt.

No, they hadn’t. He wasn’t out playing with Rudy’s kids; they were at their grandmother’s.

Rudy told him to try the church’s playground. A lot of the local kids had climbed up on the fence over there to watch the protest.

Aigh.

Matty knew better than to go that far without asking, but Jack went anyways.

Normally, he’d be panicking, but these were the streets that Matt grew up in; that he himself had grown up in. Th folks lining the pavement here knew him and his kid. They’d keep an eye out and make sure Matt didn’t get kidnapped or anything like that.

He got to the church and saw that Grace was standing outside, shaking her head at all the kids lining the top of the fence. He made wide gestures to catch her attention. She met him at the front of the church with a frown.

“No, he’s not here,” she said. “I saw him go past, though, with the McKenzies’ girl. They’re alright. They went and found a football, the two of them.”

Ahhhhh.

That was 100% Mrs. Green’s doing. She’d had a yard sale for her kids’ shit the other day. Jack had seen a couple of basketballs and footballs in among the stuff. She must not have gotten rid of all of it.

Grace waved him in the direction of the green lot the next street up. It was where most of the neighborhood children spent their time—in the daytime, playing and in the nighttime, for the older ones, experimenting.

Jack struggled through the crowd that way but got caught up in a mass of jeering and jostling when Mr. Moneybags, Whoever finally got out of his car.

Are you serious, y’all?

He called over folks to move, that he was after his fuckin’ kid, and they tried as best as they could to let him back.

Finally, blessedly, he stumbled back out on to the pavement and blew out a breath. Then headed off towards the park.

Sure enough, Matt was there, holding a football that was way too big for him with Perry, the MacKenzies’ girl. They’d evidently been playing the first-grade equivalent of tackle football, if Jack was reading the color in their faces and the dried grass all over them right.

He started that way and was so preoccupied with planning out the conversation he and Matt were about to have that he didn’t hear the folks shouting behind him. Matt saw him and perked up. He handed off the football and met Jack at the water fountain in the middle of their paths. He knew he was in trouble.

Jack put his hands on his hips to emphasize it and was validated at the guilty dropped eyes he got in return.

“Uh-huh,” he said. “That’s what I thought. Come on, then. You know what comes next.”

Matt scowled and dropped his face, mumbling out excuses.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you,” Jack said.

Matt pouted.

“Hey, you’re in the way,” a new voice said. Jack stood up straight and glared over his shoulder.

“You got the whole pavement, asshole. Go around,” he snapped.

And the next thing he knew, there was a man in a suit manhandling him off the concrete onto the grass.

“You need to move,” the guy growled.

Oh hell no. Not in this neighborhood, pal.

Jack shoved him back; the guy wasn’t prepared for that, it would seem. He fell back right on his ass and stared up, stunned.

“Who do you think you are?” the man babbled, struggling up. He had some kind of thing in his ear, like a secret service man.

Jack huffed at him and went back to collect Matt. They evidently couldn’t have this discussion here.

“HEY. I’m talking to you.”

The second the hand hit his shoulder, time fast-forwarded and Jack came back to himself with the dude with a bloody hand slapped over his face and a fucking roaring crowd of neighbors all around him.

Oh, shit.

“Shit,” he said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?” the asshole snarled, ripping his hand away from his mouth to reveal a split lip. “You come out here to assault one of Tony Stark’s bodyguards, huh? You one of these fuckin’ low lives who think they own this city? Hit me again, pal. We’ll see who’s the real winner in the court of law, huh?”

Woah.

Hey, now. Jack had just been trying to apologize.

“FUCK ‘IM UP, JACKIE,” Someone shrieked from the middle of the crowd in the street.

“Jackie? Your name’s Jackie? Jackie what? Full name and address, asshole, give it to me,” the suit demanded.

This.

Was not excellent.

“Listen man,” Jack said as calmly as the roiling, bubbling heat in his chest would allow. “I’m just trying to pick up my kid, alright? So why don’t you fuck off and we both pretend like none of this ever happened?”

The suit scoffed.

“Sure,” he jeered, “Yeah, you pick up your little bitch and clear out. Why don’t we do just that?”

Um.

Oof.

Mm.

“Daddy?”

MMF.

Jack could not break this man in half in front of his son.

He could not make this man beg for mercy in front of his son.

No. That wasn’t true. He could. But he wouldn’t. He had an example to set.

“Yo, what’s going on here? Will, is everything alright?”

The suit suddenly broke eye contact with Jack and turned to a short dude dressed in an obnoxious hoodie and flip flops.

“Everything is just fine, Mr. Stark,” he said, all prim and proper. “This guy’s just impeding the walkway.”

Mr. Stark—fuck, that explained a lot—had to be around Jack’s age. He had dark eyelashes and was probably pretty in other parts of the city. But here? Nah, a pretty man was a working man and this guy, for all his unshaven jaw and tousled hair, was not it.

“Alright, so move, man,” Stark said towards Jack. “It’s public property. You don’t own it.”

“You don’t either,” Jack pointed out to another uproar in the crowd.

Stark chewed on his tongue and chuckled.

He held his hands up.

“That’s fair,” he said. “Leave it, Will. He’s not bothering anyone.”

Will the Suit blustered all over.

“He’s assaulted me, sir,” he said, pointing at his lip. “Not to mention, he’s obviously out here to rile up the crowd.”

“I’m just out here to pick up my son,” Jack snapped.

“So pick him up and get out of the fuckin’ way already,” Will growled.

Ho, ho, motherfucker.

Jack did not move. He held the guy’s eye.

“Daddy.” Matt’s little hands found their way to his wrist.

He was scared. And the thought sent another ripple of heat through Jack’s body.

This was their neighborhood. This was Matt’s home. Jack’s home. And he wouldn’t be treated like shit in it. He wouldn’t teach Matt to bow his head to people with more money.

“You heard your kid,” Will the suit said, “Good to know the next generation here’s got some kinda brains in their heads. Lay off.”

“You ain’t better than us,” Jack spat. He stood up tall and breathed slow. “None of you. This is our city, not yours. So get the fuck out. We don’t need your fuckin’ money, Stark.” He twisted his head to make direct eye contact with this man and his tousled hair and eyelashes.

This wasn’t about some shithead in a suit anymore.

Stark tipped his own face slowly to the side.

“You got guts,” he said. “But honestly, man, you all actually could use my money. You got holes in your shirt, friend. You think—”

“We’d rather have a park than a store we can’t afford to buy from,” Jack said.

“So shop somewhere else,” Stark replied with wide hands. “But this isn’t about a store, you know. This is about an office; a whole five floors of new jobs—”

“Yeah, as janitors,” A gal with a sign on her shoulder said, squirming out of the crowd. “As service people to the rich lapdogs you drag in here to do your business for you.”

“You’d have new patrons for your fine establishments,” Stark said calmly to her.

“Oh sure, I bet they’d flock here, yeah,” the gal drawled. “Them and their pretty white families, with all their pretty, GAP clothes. And you know what they’d do, Stark? They’d start complaining about the quality of our ‘fine establishments.’ They’d start demanding shit we can’t afford, to the point where we’d have to find ways to afford ‘em, just so that we could make an honest living—and by then, our own moms and neighbors wouldn’t be able afford to pay for our so-called fine services.”

“So they would go somewhere else, and you would still be making a profit,” Stark reasoned.

“I should be able to do laundry at the laundromat closest to my house,” the gal pointed out to a chorus of support. “It’s not about money. It’s about community.”

Stark huffed.

“And what a community it is,” he said sarcastically. “You got this guy out here, punching people on the streets ‘cause he can’t keep his kid under control, you got used needles on every corner, trash piling up in the gutters—you call that ‘community?’”

“I call it poverty,” the woman said.

“Business and investment will help alleviate—”

“Mr. Stark,” the woman interrupted, “For all them brains in your head, you sure aren’t good at thinking. Or listening. So why don’t you just take a moment for the next minute and practice. Just listen. Look at me—really look, sir.”

Stark did, but he made it real clear that he was doing it out of the kindness of his heart.

“If you really cared about poverty,” the gal said slowly, “You and all your war money and all your millionaire and billionaire friends would fund community programs. Hell’s Kitchen doesn’t need new businesses, Mr. Stark. We have plenty of our own. What we need are services. Better services. More services. We need people who want to help us as people. Not clients. Not customers. As a community of human beings. And until you really, truly understand what that means, you and your friends aren’t welcome here in Hell’s Kitchen. So, sir, what do you say?”

The crowd fell silent. Jack lifted his chin and stared down at Stark around it just in case he or his security detail got any ideas.

Stark glanced up at him, then back at the woman and then, for the briefest second, at Matt barely peeking out from behind Jack’s hip.

He cleared his throat.

“Well, I see that we’re not welcome here,” he said. “Perhaps we can table this discussion for now due to community concerns, which I’m sure we can overcome in the future. What do you say, Miss?”

“Mrs,” the woman corrected. “I say you’re welcome to try as many times as you want.”

Stark looked her over and scoffed.

“Oh, I will,” he said, “I got this little thing called ‘spite’ in me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the woman said peacefully.

Stark didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything. He puffed himself up and told his guards that he was ready to go. This visit was not worth extending.

The crowd parted to let him and his suits through and was more or less quiet as they all watched him get in his fancy car and drive away.

Jack felt the tension in his shoulders settled down. He stroked a hand over Matt’s hair.

“Thanks for the rescue, Bess,” he said.

Bess beamed up at him.

“Anytime, Jackie,” she said. “Anytime.”

—

AHEM.

Bess Mahoney was Hell’s Kitchen’s main superhero before DD. Thank you and good night.

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Calling (22)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -  In which the ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on how much you would enjoy it.

Current Word Count -   65,196

MASTERLIST

Chapter Twenty-Two - First Day On The Farm

The Barton farm was everything you had expected. It was homely, lived in, comfortable and full of love. Chickens on the other hand were nothing like you had expected, they were loud, smelly, chaotic and strangely violent.

“I thought they’d be cuddlier.” You whined petulantly while Laura Barton laughed at your attempts to pick one up.

After the third chicken had waddled away squawking indignantly you huffed in annoyance and gave up. Laura took pity on you and softly clicked at one of the blasted birds, enticing it over and firmly picking it up, keeping it’s wings tucked in at it’s sides.

“Come and meet your namesake.” She told it, holding it out to you.

“Huh?” You asked, tentatively reaching out to stroke the chicken’s feathers.

“All of Clint’s friends have a chicken named after them. The rooster is called Fury.” She explained.

“You… You named a chicken after me?”

“Of course, it was like fate actually. Tony, that’s the one sitting on top of the coop over there, was named when he was just a little chick. Turned out he was actually a she. The day you arrived at the compound Tony hatched an egg, it was the only one of that flock we kept. She’s named after you.”

“That is the weirdest and sweetest thing I have ever heard.” You said, studying the chicken that shared your name.

“The day you arrived Clint and Natasha knew straight away you were going to be a part of the family.” Laura told you.

“They did?”

“And they were right. They usually are about these things, don’t tell them I said that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” You assured her.

“Clint said you were going through some personal issues. You can just use this place as a bit of escape if that’s what you need, I won’t push. I’m here if you want to talk though.” Laura offered.

You liked Laura Barton, she was kind and maternal but gave the distinct impression she was not somebody to be messed with. She actually reminded you a lot of Pepper.

“I’m just having parental issues, I’m afraid of messing things up with Tony.” You hesitantly told her.

“Tony Stark, who the second he lay eyes on you decided ‘that one, that’s my girl’? I don’t think there’s a thing in the world you could do to mess that up. Trust me, I say this as a mother, Tony couldn’t love you more if he was your biological father. You are his daughter in his heart, where it matters.” She assured you.

Like her husband, Laura assumed you were worried about pushing him away.

“What if that’s the problem?” You asked.

“I don’t follow. The issue is he loves you too much?”

“The issue is he would forgive anything I do, when he maybe he shouldn’t. If I do something that causes him pain, he shouldn’t just let me do it. I don’t want to hurt him and I’m scared he’ll let me, just so I’ll be happy.” You admitted.

“Sweetheart, that’s not your decision to make. He’s responsible for his own happiness, you can only contribute to it. If Tony decides to pain is worth it to see you happy then that is his choice, and as your father the joy at seeing you happy will be worth the price he has to pay for it. Whatever pain it may cause him he can heal from, but seeing your child in pain is something that cuts a parent to the core.” She told you wisely.

“So I should just do what makes me happy and not care about the consequences?” You asked in disbelief.

“You should do what is right and trust your dad to take care of himself. Whatever it is, you’re not doing it to deliberately hurt him and you are thinking of the consequences. I’m not giving you the go ahead or saying no to do it, that’s your decision to make.”

She’d given you a lot to think about and knew it so she took pity on you and offered you a happy distraction.

“Come on, I’ll point out who’s who.” She suggested and began pointing out the different Chicken Doppelgängers of various Avengers.

Watching chicken Sam run around after chicken Natasha went a long way to improving your mood. You’d only been here an hour and already the Barton farm was working it’s magic.

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

You had never in your life held a baby before today but when Clint had plopped Nathaniel onto your lap you had reacted instinctively, gently putting your arms around the curious one year old who was looking at you with wide eyes, his fist stuffed into his mouth.

“Hello, It’s nice to meet you.” You told him seriously.

He laughed and pulled his fist out of his mouth, shoving it at your lips.

“How kind of you to share.” You snorted.

Wanda awed softly at you and you rolled her, turning to glare at Clint as the distinctive shutter sound of a camera clicked. Clint smirked at you and you shook your head fondly at him.

“Your daddy is going to get hit isn’t he, would you like to see that hmm?” You mused thoughtfully to the small child.

“Yeah!” he exclaimed, unaware of what he was agreeing to and Clint grumbled as Wanda, Natasha and Laura burst out laughing, Nathaniel's amused giggles joining in. You sniggered and handed Laura her son back, squaring up.

“Sorry Clint, baby’s orders.” You apologised and he looked alarmed as you slowly stalked towards him.

He plastered on an expression of false bravado as you advanced but when you were a foot away his resolve broke and he darted away, making a break for the back door. Everyone promptly broke into another round of laughter as you shot after him and Clint’s yells could be heard all across the farm as you chased him around the fields, slowing your pace so he remained ahead of you.

You kept the game up for at least half an hour before ‘giving up’ and letting Clint jog back to the house. You leisurely followed, basking in the sunshine. One of the chicken’s, you thought it might be Steve wandered over and started following you.

“Where were you when I was trying to make friends earlier?” You asked him disgruntledly.

You and your feathery escort decided to take a break and you perched on a fencepost, tilting your head back and letting the warm sun shine on you. Your chicken buddy curiously pecked the ground at your feet as you just enjoyed the moment.

You heard Natasha’s approach before you saw her, ducking your head back down to squint at her.

“What’s up?” You greeted her.

“Bucky has quite the crush on you.” She informed you and you somehow managed to choke on air.

She raised an eyebrow at you in amusement.

“Or at least I think it’s Bucky, might be Steve. I can never tell them apart.” She said, nodding towards the chicken at your feet who was currently pecking at the material of your jeans.

“Oh you bitch.” You accused her.

“Don’t hate me just because you’re an open book.” She teased, coming to lean next to you on the fence.

“You ready to have that talk now?” She said, wording it like a question even though you both knew it wasn’t.

No you weren’t ready but at the same time you were dying to talk about it. Your own mind wasn’t providing much assistance on the complicated issue and you really needed another opinion.

“BuckyandIslepttogether.” You blurted.

For probably the first and last time Natasha looked shocked.

“What? Already? You’re way ahead of schedule.” She said and you turned you head slowly to glare at her.

“You scheduled me losing my virginity?”

“Of course. You were supposed to realise how you felt in the safe house and then become even more unbearably violent towards each other for a few weeks while you both denied your feelings before you got it on when the elevator broke down, trapping you together for a few hours.” She informed you.

“You’re a psychopath.” You muttered, horrified.

“No, I just knew how useless the two of you were at confronting your own emotions. He was brainwashed for 70 years to kill on command and you were raised to start and finish the apocalypse. Neither of you was equipped to fall in love so it was inevitable you were going to fall for each other.” She explained.

“You were going to lock us in an elevator?”

“For your own good, now I don’t have to. So who made the first move, how was it and why are you moping?”

“I’m not telling you anything you creep.” You told her.

Natasha punched you on the arm and you yelped.

“He made the first move, It was life-changing and incredible and it can never happen again because he was the weapon used to murder my grandparents.” You spouted.

“Start from the beginning, don’t leave out any details.” She sighed.

So you did, you told her everything, starting from the cruel jibe you’d overheard him saying to Steve. You told her the whole story.

Most of it she already knew but there were a few surprises for her, her eyebrows shot up when you told her about the encounter in the elevator where you’d discovered Bucky had been said your name in the heat of the moment but she said nothing while you spoke.

It felt good to say it all out loud, you hadn’t realised how much you were keeping locked up inside. When you were finished you felt lighter.

“You drugged him, in the middle of a make out session. Oh Kotonok, I’m so proud.”

You snorted.

“Tony will forgive you, maybe not straight away but he’ll come around once he see’s how much you love Barnes.” She said.

“I don’t love him Nat, I just… I care about him yes, I want him, I want to be around him. But love is too strong a word.” You protested.

Natasha gave you a look that said she didn’t quite believe you.

“Maybe you could, but you’ll never know if you don’t try. And if being with him makes you happy then you should be with him. Maybe you’ll find love and it will be worth telling Tony or maybe you’ll realise you don’t love him and there will be no reason to tell Tony.” She reasoned.

“I can’t sneak around behind Tony’s back like that.” You said, aghast.

“Why not? It’s a right of passage, all children date someone their parents don’t approve of. And if Barnes makes you happy but would upset Tony, then keeping it a secret is the right thing to do.”

“How can you make something bad sound like a moral obligation? Do you also sell sand in the desert?” You asked.

“Seashells on the beach actually.”

You shook your head and mulled it over. Could you go behind Tony’s back and betray him like this? Natasha made it sound so easy and maybe it was. You and Bucky would be able to be together and Tony would be blissfully unaware.

Just being in Bucky’s presence made life more exciting, especially now that there was more than just hatred between the two of you. Now that you’d slept together your skin thrummed at the mere thought of him and your body was constantly craving his touch.

The hurt you’d seen in his eyes when you pushed him away would haunt you for the rest of your life and you wanted to punch him and kiss him at the same time for thinking so little of himself. You didn’t want to treat him like a dirty little secret, you wanted to protect the precious thing the two of you could have from anyone who could ruin it.

The problem was, were you telling the truth when you said you didn’t love him? No, you weren’t, and you knew it. Deep down you knew it and maybe one day you could admit it to yourself.

“I’ll think about it.” You conceded.

“Good, that’s all I ask.” She said.

She punched you in the arm again.

“OW! What the fuck Natasha?”

“That’s for keeping secrets from me.”

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

Lila and Cooper were quite a formidable match for their parents when it came to escaping the dreaded bedtime. You and Wanda were sat on the deck, curled up on a porch swing with wine (yours spiked with Asgardian liquor Natasha had pilfered from Thor for you) and listening into to the children's protests that they wanted to play with you both. Natasha had wandered away to do secret spy things, at least that’s what you assumed.

The spiked wine was warming your chest and belly and combined with the fun and exhausting day you had had, it was making you feel incredibly relaxed.

“Your mood is much better now.” Wanda noted.

“I’m sorry if it’s been affecting you lately.” You apologised.

“It’s not your fault, and it has not been so bad. There has been a lot of sadness and anger yes, but a lot of hope and love as well.” She said.

You sipped the wine, the powerful Asgardian punch it packed loosening you tongue.

“That sounds about right, hope and love. I think I might have found both.” You hummed happily.

“Do either of you want to come tell the kids a bedtime story, it’s the only way I could get them to go to bed.” Clint begged, popping his head out of the kitchen door.

“I will go.” Wanda said before you could, pointing at your wine glass with an amused grin.

“I’m tipsy.” You told Clint with a huge grin.

“I can see that.” He snickered.

He took Wanda’s seat on the porch swing and you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“It’s wonderful here. Your family is amazing.” You told him honestly.

“Yeah, they are.” He said with pride.

“I can’t believe you named a chicken after me.” You chuckled.

“Everyone has one, all my friends and family. That includes you.”

“I didn’t even have a name until a little while ago, now I do and I get to share it. It’s nice, it’s good.” You decided.

Clint ruffled your hair affectionately.

“I’m happy.” You said, sighing wistfully.

“I’m glad. You deserve to be.” He said solemnly.

You stayed like that, your head on his shoulder and relaxed as you watched the sun set, lighting the farm up in a stunning array of colours as the shadows grew and darkness fell.

“I think I have feelings for Bucky Barnes.” You whispered into the night.

Clint looked down at you in surprise and alarm.

“Well at least you are never boring. This is going to be fun to watch from the sidelines, far far away from the line of fire.” He chuckled.

“Clint?”

“What?”

“Why is Bucky so pretty?”

“Ok you’re too tipsy for me to deal with.” He laughed, getting up and letting you plunk down to the side.

“I’m going to make you some coffee.” He said with wry amusement while you curled up on the swing, not at all bothered by the loss of his shoulder to lean on.

“Can I have some of the cookies Laura and Wanda made?” You asked hopefully.

“You can have whatever you want, you entertaining little furball.”

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

The woods surrounding the Barton farm were peaceful. You felt safe amongst the trees, close enough to the farm to not be isolated but far enough away to be alone. The trees surrounding you provided enough shelter for you to feel protected but the fresh air and sounds of wildlife reminded you that you were outside, free.

You walked through the woods, the twinkling stars above you and felt truly at peace for the first time. It was serene, tranquil and temporary but nothing good lasts forever, you were happy to just enjoy it for now.

An unfamiliar rustling sound broke you out of your peaceful musings and your body tensed, on alert. You stayed still, not making a sound and turned your head towards the sound.

“Bucky?”

He was staring at you from several meters away, he looked terrible. Exhausted. His eyes bore into you and he looked at you longingly, desperately.

“What are you doing here?” You whispered.

He flinched, like your question had hurt him but before you could explain you weren’t mad or disappointed to see him only confused he shook his head and turned away from you.

“Please, don’t go.” You pleaded but he ignored you, quickly striding in the opposite direction until he was out of sight.

You snapped out of your trance and ran after him, following the noises he was making as he tracked through the woodland.

“Bucky, wait!” You called.

You ran as fast as you could but you couldn’t catch up to him.

“This way Kotonok.” Natasha called, her red hair visible through the trees.

You followed her, her hair leading you like a beacon as you ran through the dark forest. The closer you got to her, the thicker the trees grew and you were fighting off branches that were grabbing at you.

“Hurry, he’s getting away. You’re going to lose him!” Natasha called to you.

You furiously pushed the grabby twigs away, ignoring the sharp sting of thistles and thorns piercing your hands. You’d take the pain if it meant you could get to Bucky. You threw your body forwards through the thicket, pushing your legs as fast as they could go. It still wasn’t enough and you were losing sight of Natasha.

You grit your teeth and snarled. You had to get to him you had to find him. You screamed your fury as you ran, your shrill voice resonating through the air and the tress withdraw, bowing to your fury. You rushed through the now clear path and into the clearing ahead.

It was a beautiful place, lit by moonlight. Bucky stood in the centre and your heart collapsed in on itself in relief.

The you saw that he wasn’t alone and you tilted your head in confusion at the unfamiliar woman standing with her back to you. The whole world tilted on it’s axis and your heart shattered as Bucky leant his head down to kiss her.

Your vision blurred as tears filled your eyes and you silently watched and cried as Bucky embraced the stranger. She pulled away from him and turned her head to look at you and you gasped. She had your face but her eyes were jet black, obsidian veins covering her skin.

“Vernichtung.” You whispered in terror.  

She smiled at you, a cruel and wicked smirk. You were rooted to the spot, unable to move, only able to watch in horror as she turned back to Bucky and plunged her hand into his chest. You wanted to scream but no noise came out as she withdrew her hand, his heart firmly clasped in her grip. He crumpled to the ground and you wanted to run to him, to help him, to save him but you were frozen.

She stalked towards you, hips swaying. Power and malevolence rolled off her in waves as she reached up and wiped a tear from your face with her ice cold fingers.

“I’m sorry, did you want this?” She purred viciously.

She held Bucky’s heart out to you and you were forced to watch as she crushed it in her hand and finally, you were able to scream.

In the cosy guest bedroom of the Barton Family Farm your eyes shot open, and you woke up screaming.

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

This was my absolute favorite chapter to write so far, I really really hope you enjoyed it.

Vernichtung: *Rips dream Bucky's heart out* Mike Wazowski: PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME....

I just want to take a second to thank all of you who rallied around me yesterday when I was feeling down and my confidence had taken a knock. I am grateful to you all fpr building me back up. Thank you xxx

@nerdandproud-86 @harrison-shot-first@chook007@thejourneyneverendsx@thelostallycat@inquisitor-selvala@the-corruptor @iovher@kendrawr-kitkat@phoenix-whiskey-tears @the–real-wombat@buckitybarnes@fairislesheets@angieptt@meganjonezzzz

@dugan365 @fluffeh-kitty@memanda17@krystallynx@theonelittleone

@piscesbarnes @free-as-fishes@tarastudiesalot@captainamericasbeard

[penaltybox14]

@dying-redshirt-noises @its-skadi I made this for you.

You get a call, they say.  You get a call sometimes, there's not a damn thing you can do and you know it already.

And sure, is the response.  Sure, we know that.  We've been to blazes eating up a house to its black ribs, we've drawn back, we've stumbled out the door sweating to the unspoiled lawn gasping, at the twenty-minute limit, at the very limit, not sure if the siding sliding down is the heat or the hallucination.

No, they say.  No, you don't, not yet. 

It's Bob's tech, technically speaking, because Craig drove them back (home) just gone midnight and they flopped into (respective) beds not speaking: the report written in Craig's clear precise concise hand with not a mark missed, a routine call, as routine a call as ever, as routine a call as Craig could make it, because that's just what he does.  Bob skirts around chaos like finding your way through a fire: he slides between the panic and the pain like you feel a door in the dark: the heat, the smoke, the rope, the staircase.  Craig imposes order: Craig cages the monster and tames its shining eyes.  

The other paramedics are maddened: they work so well together.  They work together, they drive together, they eat together, they sleep side-by-side together, quick light sleep like a flock of birds changing direction in the sky.

It's Bob's tech and the call says unknown medical and that catches your brain and turns a switch, the key in the ignition, alright, let the bay door rattle, let the lights swing and shine, let's shake a leg and roll, babe, we got no time.  Unknown medical might be a sprained ankle on the staircase or it might be a body in the street, it might be the wrong place wrong time, it might be the last place you wanna be, it might be the end of the world or the beginning.

Even Bob's awake.  Craig wakes up like he's already got a second track running with a locomotive warm and thrumming, flagman says time to go.  (we got no time, though, but to go).  Both him and Craig know their district like the backs of their hands or the palms of their gloves or the smell of the sheets they snap on their beds every morning of every shift.  Bob likes to spend the drive waking up as if he's swimming up from the bottom of a deep blue pool into the waning sun, like driving down a road watching attractions slip past, opportunities waiting.  

Unknown medical, man down, man up, we got this.  

Craig's very-awake voice is running through the possibilities like the computers at HQ crunch the numbers and send them flying.

Bob is nodding, Bob is making time, Bob is stretching out the time between the call and the place and the night and the day like cotton candy on the tongue.

On the lawn just outside the streetlamp's halo a haggard man stands as if he doesn't deserve the light.  He points to the house, where a woman is screaming, a woman screaming and screaming, and the words coalesce between the boards of the board, in the tumblers of the lock, my baby, my baby, my baby.

But baby, we ain't got no time.  

But the baby is blue and cool and her blood is in the backs of her legs and the backs of her arms and her softness is pale and keenly beautiful and she isn't breathing, she hasn't breathed in hours, in too long, in far too long.

One time, Thibeault, a medic at 8's, got mad at Craig's essential honesty and said, you don't care about the people, do you, and said, I bet you'd leave a dead kid on scene, wouldn't you?

Craig had said, simply, he had not yet had such a call.  Thibeault found his proof in Craig's flat expression, in his pushing up of his glasses, in his soft and mild voice.  In Craig's head a thought rattled: a child, a mother, too much time, and not enough, and never.

What would he do?

Well, babe, now's your chance to show the world: the baby in her duckling pajamas with the fuzzy feet is blue as the moon on the tidal flat, and she is cool as cardiac monitor in his sweating hands, and the baby, she isn't, anymore.  And the mother screams and screams: my baby, my baby, save my baby.

It's Bob's tech.  It's their call.  Send an ambulance, right here, right now, do it fast, do it quick, sweep the mother off her feet and swing low and sweep this baby in your arms, send the night supervisor, we need both medics on this call.

There are words you say that mean: we're bringing you no hope, we're bringing you no life, we're bringing you this body so her mother doesn't have to weep over her until the coroner arrives and by then it will be morning and it will be clear that nothing could be done or will be again.

Doc doesn't say, start an IV.  Doc says, keep her on the monitor, Doc says, bring her in.

Fifteen-two, count and breathe and breathe, and count, nevermind the stretcher, never mind the litter bearers only carry her, Bob carries her, compressions with his two fingers, to the ambulance to the rending wail of the mother sending her sorrow to the stars in the smoggy sky, and the father stands smoking a cigarette beyond the light and weeping in an ugly way as men do.

Craig keeps up the compressions while Bob arrays the tools of their trade until a broad hand on his arm and a broad face stays him.

Oh.

But.

" - Bob."

"When we get there," Bob says, softly, his voice sliding the way a boot does on coals.

Rampart's ER is bright as if it hates secrets and fifteen-two is the name of the game, breathe for her, breathe baby, cause baby won't ever breathe again.

Doc calls it, calls the death, calls the time, and it's Early on the overnight, thank god, Early who stays the hand of the pale, pale nursing student who brings the sheet up over the child's face and brings it down to fold it softly down around her neck, to tuck it in sweetly, like she's sleeping.  Like she's only sleeping.  

They said, back in training: you're gonna get a call and there isn't a goddamn thing you can do, and you know it.

And a dozen fireman snorted back we know.

And they said: no, you don't.  Not yet, you don't.

Rampart's ER is too bright to live with the baby's soft cheeks and slowly sinking eyes.  Like the sun inside a box, that's the ER, like daylight trapped eternally, infernally.

Craig checks the box because that is what he does.

Bob falters over the run report because that -

- is what he does?

Craig checks the box slowly.  Says nothing.  The overnight nurse in the ER casts them gentle eyes.  Some of the nurses are starting to trust that Brice has a few compassionate neurons firing in his brilliant, brilliant brain, and the cast them gentle eyes.  Not the pitying look: not, god, Bellingham's gotta work with him?  Not the dry gaze: how long is Brice gonna last with him?

Bob takes a long time filling out the demographics.  Craig has checked the box twice.

Thibeault and Jackson came in with a drunk with a head lac, took one look at the two of them, and thought twice.

Bob sighs a long, long, long sigh, as long the tide itself.

"Fuck it," he says, the weight of the words striking the silence like a brick, "fuck 'em, HQ can live with a late report."

Craig snaps the box closed.  They didn't use anything.  He snaps the box closed and fixes the latch and says: "I'll drive, Bob."

They are well late.  Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes transport, twenty minutes clear that's very clear, that's in the rules, and the walking rulebook ought to know that but he hesitates to pick up the mic, hesitates on the key, starts driving, that isn't what he does and he knows it and Bob knows it and they know the way home but Craig doesn't take it.  

Not the late-night way, not the wrong-way streets way that Bob would've gone, not the let's-get-back-and-crash way.

The scenic route, as Bob would say.  The inefficient way, as Craig would note.

Craig would like to say something sympathetic.  He would like to say something weighty, something remarkable.

Thibeault said to him once: you'd leave a dead kid with his mama crying on scene, you son of a bitch.

She looked like she was sleeping.

Jackson would've said she's gone to Jesus.

Gage would've hit something, he is sure of it.

He tries to think of what DeSoto would say.  Then, he tries to imagine what Bob would say.

He has drawn the squad up along a roadside above the rail terminal.  In the distance, stands of smokestacks wheeze out pale breaths, and blink their aircraft warning lights like animal eyes, red and white and indifferent.  A locomotive hoots softly in the yard, and boxcars and tankers clank, clank, clank over poorly welded rails.  It smells like Los Angeles always does: like smog and asphalt, like low tide and coal.

He takes a breath as jagged as a drunken fool's lacerated face.

And Bob lays a hand on his arm as soft as a baby's cool cheek.

He shuts his eyes.

Bob touches his hand.  He puts his arm - his strange, slender, detached arm - around Bob's wide shoulders, and pulls him close, to feel his head rest, his fraying hair, his stubbled cheek, his gentle hand, his thick bicep that muscles Barrett off the chicken and the chili when Parson cooks.  Bob's body, Bob's imperfect warm and breathing body, and he shuts his eyes and the time passes.

"You gonna tell me it's alright?" Bob says, after a while.

"No, Bob."

"Thanks, babe."

"Anytime."

When Craig opens his eyes the world is still there: it hasn't stopped turning, for the undeserving, for the wicked, for the weary, hasn't put its spin on pause for the wailing mother and the bestilled baby, for the father swallowing his sobs on the lawn while the sprinklers chuff, chuff, chuff and hiss.

A streetlight on the boulevard sputters and dies.

They drive back (home) in silence, remind dispatch that they, too, still exist, and fall to bed without words, with Craig's turnouts folded down neatly and Bob's askew, and Bob will snore heavily into the mattress and Craig will end up with one leg outside the covers and one arm asleep under his pillow.  Because that is what they do and what they know, because it's not alright, because the world keeps spinning, and all that holds it together isn't the light or the smog or the damp lawn or the hot and reeking asphalt, but just that: just each other, what they do, and what they know.