#five knows exactly what to say to give sam a panic attack

[lonelym00n]

The End.

Part five of The Devil Likes the Pirate Series

Tara Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 8.9k

Summary: All good things must come to an end, even if the path to get there is a difficult one.

Warnings: Spoilers for Scream VI, some violence, and a few buckets of angst!

A/N: That's it, it's done! For my first ever series, it's not terrible! Sure it could be better, but I'll happily settle for it being good. I never would've thought that my silly oneshot would've turned into this, but I'm so glad it did!

The Carpenter’s apartment goes from being quiet enough to hear a pin drop, to the loud thunder of arguing voices. 

Sam orders Tara to pack a bag, to get all of her stuff together quickly so they can take off.

Tara refuses, stating that Sam is overacting and that she doesn’t want to disrupt her life here in New York.

While the sisters are locked in a battle of crossed swords, you are preoccupied with your own feelings of unease. Mindy has been eyeing you with something akin to skepticism for the past few minutes and you are desperately trying not to panic under her scrutiny.

You have an idea of the conclusion that she’s likely come to. The attacks occurred last night, the same night that everyone was conveniently accounted for inside the apartment. Everyone but you.

All the current signs point to you and as daunting as it is, you can’t deny that if you were in Mindy’s shoes, you’d suspect yourself too. It didn’t take a mind as sharp as Mindy’s to piece together what it might mean that Ghostface reappeared at the same time that you were absent.

A sliver of luck is evidently on your side, because no one else but Mindy has stopped to consider potential suspects. 

You know that it’s going to be hard to talk Mindy out of her distrust in you, but you have to attempt to sway her opinion before she notifies the rest of the group. 

Without alerting anyone else, you cautiously wave Mindy over to you. 

Begrudgingly, she makes her way across the room. Her arms are crossed firmly over her chest while you chew your lip nervously.

“I know how it looks, Minds, but it wasn’t me.”

She snorts, “You do realize that’s exactly what the killer would say, don’t you?”

You attempt to swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat. This conversation was going to be harder than you thought. 

In the days that you were avoiding the rest of the group, Mindy had opened up to you about her trauma. She’d relayed that her uncle was known as the expert, the guy who knew just what to do to not only survive the killer, but to expose them. A ghost of a smile had appeared across her lips when she told you that she’d followed in his footsteps and taken up the same role. 

The task of convincing the expert that they’re wrong is overwhelmingly difficult, one incorrect move and no one will trust you for however long these attacks last.

“I swear that I went back to my room.”

There’s a wide and pleading look in your eyes, but it’s going to take a lot more than that to persuade her.

You’re scrambling for anything that can back up your alibi. “My roommate saw me! I can text her, shit I’ll call her.” 

Before you can dial the girl’s number, Mindy’s hand lands on your wrist. You snap your eyes up to meet hers.

“Alright, stop. I know how much you hate talking to her, you don’t have to call her.”

You heave out a sigh of relief. 

“You’re not off the hook completely, maybe you were at your dorm but there’s still a chance you could be lying. It’s not enough to check you off my list entirely, but I’ll leave it alone for now.”

“I get it,” swallowing thickly, you nod. 

 “Good.” 

Mindy turns to return back to the group, but stops short.

“You’re my friend and I care about you, but I won’t give you a second chance. If you screw up and do anything else that I find suspicious, I’ll make sure that none of us ever talk to you again.”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, but you don’t need to. You know she’d keep true to her word, and so you can only hope you don’t find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time again.

You remain in your spot against the wall for a while. It’s in your best interest to try and blend in, so you’re in no rush to reenter the room.

Most of the others are still sitting on the couch, Sam’s pacing back and forth on the phone. Tara stands in the entryway of her room with her arms crossed defiantly. 

Sam turns to face everyone, “I’m going down to the station.”

She strides over to the door and Tara speeds over before she can exit. 

“I’m coming with you.”

Sam goes to argue, but Tara cuts her off, “We’re supposed to stick together, aren’t we?”

Though you are situated directly adjacent to the entryway, neither of the Carpenter sisters spare you a glance as they leave the apartment.

A sense of apprehension creeps up into your chest, and though it’s glaringly obvious, you have a sinking suspicion that everything is about to go terribly wrong, terribly quickly.

Attempting to ignore the fact that you’ve now become a character in a real life horror movie, you survey the rest of the room once more. Mindy and Anika are hushedly whispering between themselves, Quinn has returned to her room, and Ethan is distracting Chad with some video on his phone.

You want to leave, to lock yourself into your dorm room to process the fact that there’s a pretty high chance that you might die at the hands of a knife-bearing psycho in a halloween costume, but you can’t. You can’t risk being alone right now, not only because you’d be privy to an attack, but because Mindy’s words haven’t stopped swirling around in your head. No second chance.

So, despite your want to be alone, you trudge over to the couch and perch on the edge of it. Your hands come up to cover your face as you try your best to think of anything other than the worst case scenario of the situation you’ve found yourself in. 

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you and the other occupants of the small apartment, another attack has occurred in the rundown bodega up the street. 

Sam and Tara, who just barely evaded the long-barrel of Ghostface’s shotgun, are now sitting in the precinct’s interrogation room, accompanied by Detective Wayne Bailey.

Once he receives both of the Carpenter’s alibis for the attack the night prior, he shifts his questioning to the other members of the group. 

Mindy and Chad are promptly vouched for, leaving you, Quinn, Anika, and Ethan vulnerable to Bailey’s queries. 

The gruff man asks about everyone else’s whereabouts last night, excluding Quinn who, as her father, he can check off the list.

A reluctant conversation silently takes place between the sisters.

Sam gives her sister a sorrowful look, as if to say, ‘We both know who wasn’t there, we have to tell him.’

Tara’s eyes widen, signaling her response, ‘But Sam-’

Sam places a heavy hand on Tara’s shoulder, patting it lightly. She turns to Detective Bailey.

“Anika, and Ethan stayed over at our apartment after the movie night.”

“And Y/N Y/L/N?”

Sam pauses, trying to avoid catching her sister’s pleading glance.

“She left late last night, we don’t know where she went.”

Bailey jots something down on his notepad before looking back up at the two sisters.

“We’ll call her in for questioning.”

Tara stays frozen in her seat, unmoving. All the while, her mind is shouting at her to jump to your defense. 

Her lips, however, remain pressed together in a thin, disconcerted line. She wants so badly to believe that you’re innocent, but a tiny nagging voice sings songs that you’re guilty and that you’re out for her blood, out to finish what Amber Freeman couldn’t.

Distantly, Tara notices that Bailey gets up to leave the room. She and Sam sit in silence, the older girl afraid to say anything in fear of upsetting her volatile sister.

Twenty minutes or so later, Detective Bailey returns.

“Before you ladies go, there’s someone here who wants to see you.”

The sisters stand and exit the room per Bailey’s instruction. A blond-haired woman shuffles forward. 

Sam’s eyes light up, “Kirby!” 

The blond chuckles, “Sam!” 

Kirby greets Tara, the small girl giving her a tight-lipped smile in return.

As the two catch-up, the sight of a figure being led in by an officer snags Tara’s attention. 

Back with the rest of the group, you remained in your own little bubble while everyone else chatted amongst themselves.

Following the pattern that has been laid out for you, your peace was quickly disturbed.

You had nearly dropped your phone when it rang loudly throughout the Carpenter’s apartment. You answered the call, only to be told by the police that you were to report to the station. The call was kept brief, but you knew the reason behind it nonetheless. 

Things only declined from that point forward. 

You were nervous, extremely so. You didn’t kill the film teacher, nor did you kill Jason or Greg, but the fact that you were being treated as a suspect for the murders had you anxious enough. 

You stood up on shaky legs, fumbling towards the door. Mindy pulled Anika closer to her at your haste, while Chad and Ethan merely side eyed you. 

No one said anything as you left, and despite the want to sob into your hoodie, you kept your head high and bit your tongue.

The officer who led you into the station was nice enough, her eyes didn’t scream guilty guilty guilty like your supposed friends’ did.

You kept your eyes firmly on your shoes throughout the walk. A tiny, familiar gasp made you stop short in your path.

You looked up and met Tara’s eyes. You were conflicted at how you felt when you looked at her, your usual longing and adoration joined by several other emotions. Heartache, desolation, and gut-wrenching hurt. 

She didn’t say anything to you, just blinked back at you with those gorgeous deep brown eyes, her expression completely unreadable.

You understood well enough that the cops were only aware of your potential involvement because someone had mentioned your name to them. You’d thought that Mindy had somehow silently tipped them off at first and sure, you were wounded by it, but the knowledge that it had been Tara? Well that nearly devastated you beyond repair.

If Mindy giving the police your name was a stab to the heart, then Tara having been the one to do it was six shots to the head and a complete dismemberment of your body. 

You were entirely conscious of what the girl had gone through with the Woodsboro attacks, and how her previous girlfriend had been the one behind it all. But even so, was it fair for Tara to be treating you this way?

Since you've fallen for the girl, she’s done nothing but emotionally harm you. It started with her flirtatious teasing that drew you into her like a blissfully unaware moth to a too bright flame. She’d had you hook, line, and sinker, but to worsen your infatuation, she’d kissed you. You were trapped by then, drowning in everything that came in the small package that was Tara Carpenter. 

Just as fast as she’d pulled you in, she’d pushed you away. She left you to piece yourself back together, and once you finally repaired the cracks, she was back, admitting that she’d wanted you all along.

And now, immediately after her admission, she’s accusing you of murder.

Though your head spun from the back-and-forth, you knew that you’d stupidly always be patiently waiting for her to reel you back in.

So no, it probably wasn’t fair for Tara to be treating you this way, but it wouldn’t stop you from wanting her all the same. How could you possibly distance yourself from her when she was all that you’d ever wanted? 

Your eyes sting with the familiar need to cry at how pathetic you feel. You’re hopelessly in love with the girl who thinks you’ve committed murder. Isn’t that just spect-fucking-tacular.

You throw her a dejected look and allow the officer to continue ushering you into the interrogation room. 

If Tara glances your way at any point after your nonverbal interaction, you don’t stop to notice. 

You have bigger fish to fry than your ill-advised love for her, like the fact that not only do she and all of your friends see you as a potential murderer, but the NYPD does too. 

You’re sitting in the room for a while, left to fester in the stale air. You’ve watched Criminal Minds and Law & Order, you know that this is a common tactic used to make criminals grow skittish. Though you are not a criminal, the biting silence in the room makes the tactic work on you all the same.

Your lip has been chewed raw and as you begin to faintly taste the sharp copper of blood, the heavy door swings open.

Two people walk in, introducing themselves as Detective Bailey and FBI Agent Kirby Reed.

Your skin pales at the title of the woman and the flash of her badge. They’d brought in an FBI Agent to question you?

They pull out the chairs in front of you and take a seat.

Detective Bailey clears his throat, “Y/N, we understand that you’re a friend of Samantha and Tara Carpenter.”

You nod tightly.

“We have reason to believe the sisters are under attack by a copycat Ghostface killer. Are you aware that both Carpenters were recently ambushed at a bodega near their apartment?”

The blood drains from your face at the mention of Ghostface by name. Wait-

“Tara was attacked?”

Kirby and Bailey exchange a look at your failure to include Sam in your question.

You, on the other hand, are mentally losing it. Tara was attacked, she must be so scared, so shaken up. It was easy to be distracted by your own involvement in the attacks, but god, this was Tara’s second time going through it. 

Seeing how panicked you are, Kirby has to refrain from placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“She’s okay, Sam too. Just a few cuts and scrapes here and there.”

The fact that she hadn’t been heavily injured comforts you. You nod to Kirby in thanks. 

Bailey, on the other hand, doesn’t care too much about your emotions. It’s clear that he’s taken over the bad cop persona, while Kirby plays the good cop. 

“So, where were you tonight?”

Oh right, you’re here to be interrogated for murder. Any thoughts of Tara’s wellbeing float away at the reminder that she gave your name to the cops for potential murder. 

“I was with Mindy, Anika, Chad, and Ethan, at Sam and Tara’s apartment. I came here as soon as I got the call.”

Bailey grunts and scribbles your response onto the notepad in front of him.

Once he’s done, he lifts his gaze up to meet yours and raises a singular, probing eyebrow.

“And what about last night?”

You bite your lip, suddenly feeling very fidgety.

“I went back to my dorm room and went to sleep.”

“Did anyone else see you? Can anyone confirm that?” Bailey stares you down, a tad bit menacingly. 

“My roommate, she saw me this morning before she left.”

Detective Bailey reluctantly accepts your answer, and requests your roommate's contact information to confirm that she’d seen you. You give it to him readily.

Kirby speaks up, voice gentle, “I just have a few more questions, and then we can let you go.”

Something about the way she’s treating you so kindly makes you even more anxious. Whether it’s that or her status as an FBI Agent, you aren’t sure.

She speaks slowly, like your English Lit professor does when she wants the class to catch on to the author’s analogy buried deep beneath the text.

“I specialize in determining whether certain murders have any connection to Ghostface. I know a lot about copycat killers, and what might motivate someone to put on a mask and become a ghostface.”

You get what she’s trying to convey. Boiling it all down, she’s good at telling Ghostface apart from non-ghostfaces. She can tell the guilty apart from the innocent. Wait that means-

Suddenly, you’re no longer scared of Kirby.

Suddenly, you’re hanging off of her every word like she’s a life raft in the middle of a barren ocean. And metaphorically, she is. She’s your last hope in the series of accusing fingers that have been pointed your way.

Her eyes gleam with the sense that you’ve understood her hidden implication. 

“So,” she pushes a singular photo in front of you, “Can you tell me who this is?”

The photo in front of you is a movie poster, with all the words edited off. A tall man stares down the camera, complete with blue coveralls and a pale white mask with tufts of hair coming out of the top. 

Though you aren’t a huge horror buff, you recognize the character. But is it right to know who he is, or should you lie?

“Um,” you swallow and pause for a second, “That’s Michael Myers, from Halloween.”

Kirby hums, and slides three more photos forward.

The first one has a character that wears a red and green striped sweater, with razors extending from his fingers. Freddy Krueger.

The second picture’s character is donning a menacing grin, and has distinct clown-like makeup on. If the makeup doesn’t give it away, the singular red balloon does. Pennywise.

The third character you are admittedly less familiar with. It’s a bald man with a stark white complexion. A series of nails adorn his head, and he has a long leather getup. In his palm, he displays a glowing box. Pinface? Pinhead?

You lift a sweaty hand to point at the first picture. Your voice is shaky, “Freddy Krueger from The Nightmare on Elm Street.”

You point to the second picture, “The movie IT, it’s Pennywise.”

Finally, your finger lands on the last picture. You’re hesitant, you think you know the answer but you’re still unsure if you should be getting these right or not. Would the killer know all these characters?

“I don’t know the name of the movie. And I’m not entirely sure, but I think that’s Pinhead.”

You think Kirby is pleased with your answer, because she simply collects the pictures and places them back into their folder. 

“I know it's a bit of a weird process, but it actually gives me a lot of information. That’s all I need from you, you can go now.”

Kirby’s face remains impassive, not revealing her current thoughts. Detective Bailey, on the other hand, is looking at you with something akin to a scowl.

You stand up, legs slightly wobbly. Kirby and Bailey get up to leave as well. Bailey continues down the hallway while Kirby holds the door for you. Before you can make it fully past the door frame, a strong hand landing on your shoulder makes you jump.

Kirby glances over her shoulder to make sure Bailey is out of earshot. She pulls a card out of her jacket and discreetly slides it into the front pocket of your sweatshirt. “Call me if you need something, or if anything happens. Especially if it’s anything that could be related to you-know-who.”

You look up at her gratefully, nodding. It’s her close-lipped way of saying she trusts you.

She releases your shoulder with a small pat, and you all but scramble out of the police station.

Once outside, you check your phone for any missed messages. Surprisingly, you see one from Mindy, telling you to meet her and everyone else at the park just off of campus. 

The same park that led to your Tara-related downward spiral. The same park that was home to the catalyst of your current separation from the rest of the group. Lovely, just lovely.

Reluctantly, you make your way over to the meeting spot, completely unsure of what horrible scenario would be awaiting you this time. 

Once at the park, you stop a distance away from the group to take in the scene. They’re seated together on the benches, the only empty seat next to Quinn. Mindy stands front and center, no doubt about to shed her expert wisdom on everyone.

As much as you’d rather turn and walk away, you shuffle forward and make your way over to sit next to Quinn. The group has gone silent at your arrival, but you keep your gaze firmly on your shoes, not wanting to face the judging looks that are being sent your way.

Mindy claps her hands together to break the tense silence, “Okay nerds, listen up. As terrifying as this all is, I’m actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time.”

She takes a deep breath, “The way I see it, someone is out to make a sequel to the requel.”

Anika interrupts with a question, “Um, what’s a requel?”

Mindy gives her a sweet smile, “You’re beautiful sweetie, let’s hold questions til the end.”

 After a few comments from Sam and Tara about Stab, Mindy launches into a ramble about sequels and requels and franchises. You’re listening distantly, but are more distracted by the weight of your own exhaustion. Being interrogated by two officers of the law took a lot more out of you than you thought it would.

Your thoughts are placed on a back burner at Ethan’s voice entering the conversation. 

“Am I in the friend group?” 

Mindy nods, along with a few others.

“Am I-,” his voice breaks slightly, “Am I gonna die a virgin?” 

Mindy laughs through her nose, sharing a look with Anika at the boy’s admittance. 

“Weird overshare, but that brings us to our suspects.” 

You stiffen at the mention of the group’s suspects. So that’s why she’d texted you to come, not just to explain the rules, but to ridicule you in front of everyone.

She gestures towards the flustered boy, “Ethan, the shy dorky kid who no one suspects because he’s so shy and dorky.”

He splutters for a moment, “Wait- I’m a suspect just because I’m Chad’s roommate?”

Mindy scoffs, “Roommate lotteries can be juked, you could’ve fixed it to get closer to us.”

He remains silent, dumbfounded. Mindy moves on.

“Quinn, the slutty roommate, a horror movie classic!”

Quinn arches a perfectly plucked brow, “Sex positive, but thank you?”

Mindy rolls her eyes at the terminology. “How’d you end up rooming with Sam and Tara?”

“I answered their ad online?” She glances at the Carpenters.

“Say no more!” Mindy barks out a laugh, “You’ve already implicated yourself!”

Sam, sensing that Mindy is getting a bit too carried away with her antics steps in, “It was an anonymous ad, Mindy.

Tara nods, “Plus we vetted her, and her dad’s a cop.”

Mindy’s eyes widen and she exclaims, “‘Cuz having a cop dad is the perfect cover, do you not remember how these movies work, Tara?!”

Tara sits back in her seat, huffing.

Mindy shifts her attention to her girlfriend, “Next up, Anika.” 

The girl blows her a kiss and Mindy catches it goofily. Her face quickly morphs into a straight look, “Never trust the love interest.”

Anika pales.

“And finally, speaking of love interests.” The horror-loving girl whips to your direction, and regards you more seriously than she had the others. You want nothing more than to shrivel up and shrink down to the size of an ant.

“Y/N, who might I remind everyone, we met while she was wearing a devil costume.”

The feeling of everyone’s eyes burning into you makes you want to throw up. 

“We’ve known you the least amount of time, and I can’t be the only one who finds it weird that the only people you’re friends with are here right now. A killer, clearly trying to keep all ties short.”

You flinch and open your mouth to respond, but Mindy continues.

“You were noticeably absent the same night the killings began. And if that doesn’t implicate you enough, your perfect motive will.”

Though you want to scream at how unfair this is, you can only sigh and give in. At this point, you’ve realized there’s nothing you can do to make yourself seem less suspicious. They all think it’s you, so why defend yourself when it would only fall on ears that are unwilling to listen?

 “And what would my motive be?”

Mindy grins, victoriously. 

“You’re in love with Tara, and not just surface level love, no no no.” She laughs to herself, “You’re actually in love with her, and it goes so far deep that there’s no way out of it.”

The urge to throw up and empty your guts is stronger than ever. You’re pissed, but more so shocked that Mindy has stooped so far as to reveal this to the whole group. And right in front of Tara. She knows now, knows everything. The girl who can’t even decide if she wants to be with you now knows the full extent of your feelings for her. Fucking great. 

The last piece of your dignity is gone forever. Mindy speaks again, “She broke your heart when she said she only wanted to be friends. Trampled it even, and you were so upset that you decided to break hers too. Only literally.”

She faces everyone, clearly proud of herself, “There you have it folks, the perfect motive! Break my heart and I’ll break yours, but worse! A flawless romance-horror mashup.”

Everyone remains silent, just blinking at Mindy in astonishment. 

Your restrained sniffles break the silence. 

You rise, not even bothering to hide your tears or wipe them away. You’re broken, worse than you’ve ever been before. 

Before you can stomp away, you meet Mindy’s eyes, letting her see exactly how upset, angry, and ruined you are feeling.

Your tone is even and still as you spit in her direction, “Screw you, Mindy.”

With that, you walk away, uncaring if it makes you look any more suspicious. 

Watching as you move further and further away, Mindy finally decides to talk once more.

“I went too far, didn’t I?” She knew she always had a flair for the dramatics and it wasn’t the first time someone had been offended during one of her killer call-outs. 

Sam had been the last victim to be scorned by Mindy’s words, “Yeah, yeah I think it’s pretty obvious you went too far Mindy.”

Ever the protective big sister, she glances over at Tara to see how the younger girl has taken the news.

Tara is sat as straight as an arrow, eyes wide and blinking slowly. She looks utterly gobsmacked and as much as a little part of Sam wants to giggle like a child at her sister’s expression, the older and more mature version of her wins over.

“T, you okay?” Her voice is soft like a blanket, a tone she reserves just for Tara.

Tara comes back to life at Sam’s question. She shakes her head heatedly, “No, I’m not okay. Mindy, what the fuck?”

Mindy bristles slightly at Tara’s anger, no one likes being on the receiving end of her chihuahua-like biting remarks.

“Tara I-”

“Mindy, why the hell would you tell everyone that? She told you all of that and you just threw it right in her face?”

Mindy’s silence spurs Tara on.

“It’s one thing to accuse her of being Ghostface but to say all that? Really?”

Tara scoffs and pushes herself out of her seat. She starts striding to catch up with you, to say what exactly, she isn’t quite sure yet, but she’ll figure it out on the way.

To her dismay, a familiar hand catches her wrist and twists her around. 

It’s Sam, because who else would chase after an agitated Tara Carpenter?

“Tara, you can’t go after her.”

“She’s upset Sam, and it’s not safe for her to be alone and upset with a killer on the loose.”

Sam frowns, lips almost forming a pout, but nods in agreement. “I know Tara. She’s really upset. But it’s not safe for you to be alone with someone who could very well be the killer.”

Though the shorter girl is still unsure of whether or not you could actually be the one behind the mask, it's the last thing she's thinking of in this moment. A snarl forms on her face, “So you agree with Mindy.”

The older Carpenter is quick to defend herself, “I’m not saying I agree with Mindy, I just don’t think that you and I should split up. Can we keep staying together Tara, please? I can’t let you get hurt again.”

Tara deflates like a balloon, the angry miniature dog that lives in her finally gone. She nods in resignation and lets Sam lead her back to the group.

Meanwhile, you finally make it back to your dorm. You pluck Kirby’s business card out of your pocket and carefully examine it. The only information given is a phone number and her name. 

You debate calling her for a moment, maybe you’d be able to find some comfort in the agent. She was the only one who didn’t think you were Ghostface, after all. 

You decide against it, choosing to instead stew in your overwhelming emotions. You’d finally been granted time to process the onslaught of events, a brief calm in the inevitable storm.

Just as it was weeks before, your bed remains your safe space. You move to plug your phone into your charger, but stop short upon seeing a message.

Tara: hey, we’re making dinner at the apt and having evryone stay over tn.

Tara: u should come

The invitation leaves you frozen for a minute. Why would she want you to stay over with everyone else? Was this some sick move for her to corner you and reject you once and for all?

You aren’t sure what to respond with, so you leave her text unanswered. You can’t think rationally right now, so you plug your phone in, lay your head on your pillow, and succumb to the swirl of your emotions.

You lay there, staring up at your ceiling and sobbing, for what must be a few hours. Your friends think you’re a killer, and Tara knows the full extent of your love for her.

Your phone, ever the annoyance, interrupts your breakdown with the alert of an incoming call.

Groaning, you roll over and pick it up without looking.

“Hello?,” your hoarse voice croaks out.

“Why hello, Y/N. About time we talked, don’t you think?” 

The voice is teasing, like it’s somehow toying with you.

A chill shoots up your spine, and you sit up against your headboard. You sort of recognize the voice, but you can’t place how you know it.

“Who’s this?”

A laugh rings out and it somehow freaks you out even more.

“Since I like you, I’ll give you a hint. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

You drop your phone onto your lap and scramble away from it, as if it was purely responsible for how terrified you feel. 

Shit, shit, shit.

Back when you were avoiding everyone, Mindy had insisted for you to watch Stab 1 with her, since you’d never seen it before. You tried to refuse, but she shut you up with just one look. Rolling your eyes, you allowed her to put the movie on.

Though she was providing commentary throughout the entire opening, you’d heard the voice that had spoken with Casey Becker on the phone. 

You heard Casey’s killer ask her the same question you’d just been asked.

Fuck.

It was him, somehow, someway, he’d gotten your number and was calling you.

You were on the phone with none other than Ghostface.

Shit.

The person on the line chuckles, their altered voice muffled because of the way the phone is being pressed into your comforter, “Now I’ve got your attention.”

With trembling hands, you pick your phone up. “What do you want with me?”

“To thank you. Y’know because of you, I get a little more wiggle room. More time to be off on my own, carving up another person or two, or planning out exactly how I’m going to kill Tara.”

“Leave her alone!”

“Oooh feisty, but not a chance. I think I’ll burn her alive and shoot her in the head, just like she did to Amber.”

“Amber was a psycho and so are you!”

“Maybe, but you’re the one who everyone thinks is psycho.”

Clenching your fists, you remain silent.

Ghostface continues, “I think I’ve decided I want to play a little game. A new game I made just for you.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, full of pure fear. “I’m not playing any games.”

“Too bad. It’s a guessing game, it’s simple really. You guess if I’m in your bathroom waiting to spill your guts all over the place, or if I’m under Tara’s bed, ready to slice through her skin at any second.”

Your blood runs cold as you turn towards the tiny bathroom connected to your dorm room. The door is shut, and an eerie silence fills the room. Ghostface could be in there right now, and you’d be dead in seconds. Worse, he could be biding his time for the perfect time to strike an unsuspecting Tara.

“Tick tock,” the killer sings.

You steel yourself and cautiously position yourself upright, ready to bolt towards your door.

“You’re in my bathroom, come out and get me you fucker.”

The bathroom door stays shut, and you’re left poised in a tense position, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, I’m afraid you’re wrong.” Oh god.

“Don’t hurt her!”

“I have to. We have unfinished business.” The words are spat out, clearly in raw anger.

The teasing tone plays through the voice modulator once more, “Thanks for being apart from everyone again, it really helps that you’re always able to take the fall for me.”

Ghostface ends the call. You clamber out of bed, toss on the nearest pair of shoes, and sprint out of the door, though not before grabbing the 3.5 x 2 inch card off of your dresser. 

While racing like a madman to the Carpenter’s apartment, you dial Kirby’s number.

After one ring, she picks up. “Agent Reed.”

“Kirby!” You’re panting as you hurry along.

“Y/N?”

“Yes! Kirby you have to get to Tara and Sam’s now! Ghostface is there.”

You can faintly make out her rustling around, likely collecting her jacket and gun.

“I’m on my way. What happened, how do you know?”

“He called me, Kirby. He’s setting me up!”

“Shit, okay get there as soon as you can.”

“I’m trying!”

This can’t happen to you, not again. Your stupid emotions about everyone thinking you were guilty fucked things up even more. If they didn’t hate you and suspect you before, your absence now definitely cements your fate.

Your only hope is to make it there in time to help defend against Ghostface. 

But alas, luck isn’t on your side. When you arrive at the Carpenter’s apartment, you’re met with yellow caution tape and the flashing red and blue lights of both ambulances and police cars. 

Too little, too late. 

You aren’t even sure what to do, not knowing if it’s better for you to turn and walk away, or to feebly defend yourself like a broken record. You see a body bag being rolled by on a stretcher, and the sight of it makes everything that you’re feeling so much worse.

One of your friends is dead.

You aren’t angry at them for how they treated you anymore, how they turned their backs on you so quickly. You can’t be angry. Not when someone died at the hands of whoever was behind this. Not when you’re being so cruelly reminded that this isn’t a petty fight, or a game night squabble. 

One of your friends is dead. 

You’re sad, instead. So immensely sad. And scared, your limbs still shake from the residual fear leftover from the phone call. The killer was taunting you on the phone, so shouldn’t you have been the next one to go? Whoever died didn’t deserve to, not while you just got to freely exist.

But like Mindy had said, you’ve been brought into a franchise, and everyone has a role in a franchise. Your friend is now nothing more than a notch under the famed killer’s belt, a tally for the rankings of a video titled ‘which slasher villain has the highest kill count?’

And your role?

You’re the killer’s toy, their beat-up ragdoll held together by loosened strings that they’d stopped caring about years ago, but still blame for every mess they create.

You’re the scapegoat, the one to blame, traveling down a path of loneliness and carrying around the killer’s sins for all to judge you for. Just when your innocence is proven, you’ll die, a sacrifice the killer is all too happy to make.

You sigh heavily, the weight of your thoughts resting deeply on your shoulders. You can’t feel sorry for yourself though. Not when you’re still alive, still breathing.

You can’t walk away, because running from your problems has just made everything worse.

The cops are distracted, so you slide underneath the caution tape. You sluggishly drag your feet towards the ambulance, further into the throng.

Mindy’s sitting in the back of the vehicle, a blanket wrapped around her shivering form.

You approach her, moving as shakily as a baby deer.

She sees you out of the corner of her eye. You watch as hers widen exponentially, “Stay the fuck back.”

You halt. The fearful and disgusted look in her eyes at the sight of you swallows you whole. 

Tears cloud your vision, “Are you okay?”

She remains quiet, just staring at you, unblinking.

“Dumb question.” 

Mindy blinks again.

You don’t know what to say, and you don’t get a chance to. You’re being ripped away from Mindy, met with Sam’s blazing eyes.

You can just barely see Tara behind her, looking smaller than ever.

Sam grips your chin, forcing you to look up at her. 

“Where the fuck were you?” She barks.

The murderous glare she’s leveling you with has you shrinking into your skin. “I- I was in my room.”

“Liar!”

“Sam, please. You have to believe me, I’m not lying.” You’re crying now, because she’s still looking at you like an untamed beast waiting to rip your heart out.

Near blubbering, you continue, “He called me, Ghostface called me.” 

The reminder of how scared and alone you felt on the phone with Ghostface makes your cry even harder, and Sam softens slightly, albeit still glaring at you.

“What’d he say?”

“He thanked me for helping him look less suspicious. He said it gave him more time to plan his next kills.” It’s a conscious decision not to include that he’d specifically mentioned how he’d kill Tara. Sam would rip your head off right on the spot.

She stares at you, trying to decipher if you’re telling the truth.

You heave in a breath, preparing yourself to finish your recount, “He made me play a guessing game. He told me to guess whether he was waiting to kill me, or Tara.”

Sam is scarily still. In the distance, you can see Chad harshly slamming Ethan into a van.

If Sam, Tara, Mindy, Chad, and Ethan are here, then that leaves…

Quinn. And Anika. God.

If you weren’t about to be strangled by Sam, you’d likely curl into a ball and sob at the knowledge that the two girls you’d seen earlier today are gone. 

You’d beg and plead with Sam if it meant she’d believe you. “I ran here as soon as I realized he was gonna hurt her. You have to believe me.”

You stare up at her with shiny eyes, praying she accepts your story.

Without warning, you’re released from the death grip that she had on you. Sam backs away from you without saying a word, slinking back towards Tara.

You meet the younger Carpenter’s gaze for one brief second, before you tear your eyes away. You couldn’t afford to decipher how she currently felt towards you. It hurt enough to be painted as the killer, you didn’t need her rejection of your love for her to pile up on top of your already too intense hurt. 

From your spot alone, in the middle of the group, you can hear Mindy telling an apologetic Ethan to get away from her. She tells him how the two of you are at the top of her list, and that she didn’t need either of you near her ever again.

Though you aren’t part of the conversation, her words still bruise. You might’ve called her your best friend once, probably still would, but she’d forever condemn your name.

You wallow in your sorrow while Gale shows up, sharing a regretful exchange with the two sisters. Kirby comes soon after, also checking up on the Carpenters.

Gale announces to everyone that she’s found what’s likely the killer’s hideout, and everyone silently follows along while she leads the way.

You walk a ways behind the group, arms wrapped around your own waist both defensively and protectively. A firm body knocks their shoulder against yours, breaking you out of your daze.

Kirby levels you with a worried look, “You good kid?”

“Don’t worry about me, ask the others.”

She clicks her tongue at your response, “Already did, now I wanna know how you’re doing.”

You reach a hand up and drag it through your hair, “Mindy hates me, probably Chad too by association. I can’t tell how Sam feels, if she thinks it’s me or not. And I can’t even  bring myself to look at Tara, let alone ask her if she thinks I’m out to murder her.”

Kirby shoots you a sympathetic look, “That’s a lot for one person to deal with.”

You shrug, “Yeah well, nothing I can do about that.”

The two of you finish the walk towards the abandoned theater in silence.

Before you enter, Kirby places a hand on your arm to stop you.

“We’re gonna catch who’s behind this eventually. Why don’t you stick with me for the time being?”

Your eyes light up, “I’d love that.”

And truthfully you would. Staying by Kirby’s side will not only be comforting, but will also ensure that you’re no longer left to accidentally fall into a situation that makes you look guilty. For the first time since all of this started, you feel seen, like you finally have a friend that’s on your side.

She smiles at you and the two of you enter the theater. You soon realize that it’s less of a theater, and more of a shrine dedicated to the Ghostfaces of the past.

Everyone fans out to inspect the items. You’re stuck to Kirby’s side like glue, inching your way towards a display case.

She carefully places her hands atop the case, scanning her eyes across the items.

Pointing out a few items, she speaks out to no one in particular. “Charlie stabbed me with that knife, and that’s the same flannel Jill was wearing.”

You hum sadly, what she went through must have been so horrible. 

The rest of the visit to the shrine is lonely for you. Kirby leaves to bond with Mindy, then to check on Tara. You’re left to stand in a corner, trying to blend in with the shadows.

When Kirby returns, the group clusters together, forming a plan.

As you sit by Kirby’s side in the van, the plan quickly goes to shit. The killer’s call is traced back to Gale’s apartment, leaving the Carpenter sisters to race to her rescue.

You and Kirby head back to the precinct for a while, where she combs through her files once more. She gets a call about a new plan, and the two of you hop back into her car, headed back towards the abandoned theater.

Sam, Tara, and Chad stand outside. 

Chad points to you, where you’re standing by Kirby’s side. “Is it safe for her to come in with us?”

You swallow at his retort.

Kirby calmly comes to your defense, “Safer than leaving her alone, yes. Where’s Mindy?”

Sam explains that Mindy got separated and had to take a different train with Ethan.

Kirby quirks an eyebrow, “Okay, well it’s better if we wait inside.”

The others go their separate ways, leaving you and Kirby to stand by the door. She double checks the ammunition in her gun, and makes sure her bulletproof vest is intact. 

A few minutes pass where you’re left to sit and wait. With Kirby distracted with her gun and you distracted with your thoughts, neither of you notice the figure creeping up behind her.

Kirby falls to the ground, groaning before she falls unconscious. Before you can think of screaming, you’re hit hard in the back of the head.

You land next to Kirby on the ground, head spinning as your world fades to black.

You’re groggy as you wake, but you quickly notice that Kirby is nowhere to be found. You stand and take a minute to regain your bearings.

Once you’ve calmed down, you start to make out the faint sounds of voices in the main room. You slowly approach, stopping dead in your tracks once you see what’s going on.

Sam and Tara are clutching bricks, trying to defend themselves from Quinn and Ethan, who are wearing the ghostface robes and taunting the sisters with knives. 

Detective Bailey stands in front of them, waving around a gun as he monologues.

To your dismay, Quinn notices you.

“Well, if it isn’t our favorite accomplice.”

Bailey turns to face you, grinning. 

“Come on over, join us!”

The rest of the group can’t see from where his back is turned, but his gun is aimed at you and his eyes are threatening. You comply, terrified as you inch forward.

When you’re within reach, Bailey reaches out and wraps an arm tightly around your shoulders, the force of his arm nearly knocking the wind out of you.

He turns to taunt the two sisters, “We couldn’t have done it without her. Your little girlfriend was a great help, Tara.”

Sam and Tara look shocked and then betrayal fills their eyes.

You’re confused, caught up in fear and panic.

Sam’s scoffs, “You needed four people just to take me out? That’s pathetic.”

Only now do you realize what’s going on. Bailey’s making it seem like you’ve been helping them all along, still not allowing you to be innocent.

Your eyes are wide and begging for the umpteenth time, “Wait, I didn’t help them!”

Ethan rolls his eyes, a tiny hidden smirk on his face, “Drop the act! This is the fun part Y/N, remember? Like we talked about.”

You try to wiggle out of Bailey’s grip, but he’s unwavering.

Your struggling causes you to meet Tara’s eyes. She looks devastated, like her worst thoughts were coming to life. 

“Let me go! I didn’t help them, Tara please! Please it wasn’t me! They’re lying!”

Your cheeks are wet with your tears. 

Bailey looks between you and Tara for a second before a smirk slowly spreads across his face.

“Well Tara, it looks like it’s up to you.” He tucks his gun into his waistband and pulls out a knife. 

He gestures to you with the knife, “Girlfriend, or killer?”

The knife presses against your abdomen, ready to strike. 

Time pauses for a second, while your eyes are locked on Tara’s. You’re pleading, the most desperate you’ve been up to this point. Your life is quite literally on the line, and if Tara chooses not to trust you, you’re dead. 

Her mouth is agape, opening and closing, as she glances to Sam for help. Sam shakes her head and mouths a trust no one to her sister.

Tara remains conflicted.

Bailey growls, “Girlfriend or killer, Tara. Choose one.”

Tara’s gaze hardens, but you can still see how her eyes are flitting around worriedly. 

She’s biting her lip hard.

You decide to try to sway her one more time, this is the girl you love, who knows how much you love her, though not by your choice. You don’t know if she returns your feelings, but this isn’t the time to be fearful of rejection. At least if she still doesn’t believe your innocence, you’ll die knowing you did everything you could to save yourself.

You don’t sound desperate anymore, just broken. “Tara, I- I love you. And I wouldn’t do this to you, or Sam, or any of our friends. You know me better than anyone else, so you should know I’m telling the truth. I have been all along.”

The room is still and silent. 

Tara looks into your eyes, and whatever it is she sees, it makes her finally open her mouth to respond. She’s looking right at you as she speaks, “I believe you.”

It’s then that the room erupts into chaos.

You’re blinded with pain as Bailey’s knife enters your insides and twists around.

“You got it right Tara, but you’re too late.”

The knife is pulled out and thrusted back in. A trail of blood leaks out of your mouth.

Quinn and Ethan laugh. Tara’s screams ring loudly throughout the shrine, but she is held from running towards you by Sam. 

You’ve lost track of how many times the knife has entered your body. The pain is so intense that you can’t even feel it anymore.

Your vision is spotty, and you slide limply out of Bailey’s grip to crash unceremoniously to the ground.

You’re left to wonder why no one’s ever said how sickening it is to feel your own life draining from your body. Maybe because they didn’t live to retell the pain?

As your eyes drift shut, you think back to the first night you’d met Tara. How you found her to be so alluring, so painstakingly beautiful. You remember the offhand internal comment you made after hours of blushing under her relentless teasing, when you’d said to yourself that this girl would someday be the death of you.

You’d laugh at the irony if you had enough energy to do so.

With the hopes of being reincarnated into a simpler life, you finally stop fighting death’s cold grasp and allow yourself to fade away.

And fade away you do.

Until the paramedics are pumping you full of drugs, their arms flying around you with practiced precision. They’re stitching, and bandaging, and doing everything they can to save your life.

Somehow, someway, they do it. They save you.

A week later, your eyes open for the first time. 

The room is empty, your only company being a vase full of wilted flowers. 

You’re covered by a thin blue blanket from the waist down. You’d reach down and assess the damage, but your arms don’t want to cooperate, still too weak to comply with your brain’s request.

Besides, you’re alive, shouldn’t that be all that matters?

It’s then that you hear two voices out in the hallway, growing louder as they likely approach your room.

The door opens, and you suck in a breath. It’s Sam and Tara, the latter of the two clutching a fresh bouquet of flowers in her uninjured arm.

They haven’t noticed you’re awake yet, still continuing their previous conversation.

“Hi.” You mentally kick yourself for always having the most awkward greetings.

They gasp and turn to face you.

“You’re awake!” Tara flies towards you and carefully embraces you, mindful of your barely healed injuries. You make a small noise in response, though eventually slowly lift your arms to return the hug.

Sam leaves to go inform the nurse of your condition.

The small girl pulls away to set the flowers down, before moving to gingerly sit on the side of the bed.

She lifts a hand to cup your face, silently stroking your cheek with her thumb.

“I owe you a huge apology,” she begins. 

You shake your head, “We have plenty of time to talk about that, let’s just exist for now, yeah?”

She nods, big brown eyes scanning your face nervously. You watch curiously, as she seemingly works up some confidence.

“Is it true, what Mindy said?”

You pale, and meekly nod your head, knowing she’s referring to when Mindy exposed your love for her.

She’s launching herself towards you again, stopping with her lips mere millimeters away from your lips, a silent question of permission lurking in her eyes.

You glance down at her lips, wondering if they’re as soft as they were the first time you’d kissed her.

She takes that as your answer, and closes the gap. You’re drowning again, in everything that is Tara Carpenter, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

There’d be time to talk later, to work through your issues of trust with her and everyone else, but for now? 

You were perfectly content with the blissful feeling of being consumed by Tara, of her expressing everything left unsaid with just her lips.

You’re scarred and hurt, beaten and bruised, but none of it matters.

You’re kissing Tara, and she’s enough. More than that, she’s all you’ll ever need.

Bonus note: Everyone thank @cartierdreamx for the happy ending, as much as I love it, r's death would've really fueled the evil angst rat that lives inside of me. Send me your thoughts, I'm so excited to hear what you all think after reading!

Taglist: @thenextdawn @dreifhraniquo29 @fanboy7794 @thelonewriter247 @simp4natasha @cartierdreamx @btay3115 @friedryes @bananasplits-world @alexkolax @ordelixx @adaydreamaway08 @youralphawolf72

As always, so sorry if I forgot to add anyone to the list that asked to be added! I tried my best to add everyone!! <3

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you #scream fanfic #devil likes the pirate series #lonelym00n fic

[anachronistic-falsehood]

YAYYYY DRREAMSTUUCK HOURS!!!!! are there any specific headcanons you have that wont be explicitly included in the fic ?? things like. idk worldbuilding or little details that are so obscure that writing about them would be clunky or hard to fit nicely into plot. stuff like that etc :]

YES YES. YES I DO. okay first of all dstuck tommy is canonically trans so write that down. it's not really mentioned because wilbur straight up did not introduce the concept of gender to this kid and just called tommy he/him because he knew paradox space was going to give him a son no matter what, so when tommy learned what gender was and said "hey i'm a man >:3" wilbur was like sure ok. thog don't caare!! it is alluded to though and it will be heavily implied in my guardian wilbur oneshot that i'll prolly post sometime in the next couple months after i introduce our fourth beta player :3 (SPOILERS it's aimsey our fourth player is aimsey i feel like i've mentioned it before but yeah. fourth player aimsey :3 the session needs a knight so AIMSEY!!!)

ERET. they will not go crazy go stupid during murderstuck, they are not one of the murderers, but the concept of betrayal and redemption is very important to eret's character so they do have a backstory where they tried to hand skeppy over to the empire and get him culled. it will be mentioned!! probably will expand on it more in meteorstuck if possible, but for now it's barely there. there's SO much to include in dstuck it's insane

ponk lives in a tree because they ran away from the neighborhood they used to live in. someone got culled by some drones and in a panic, ponk ran away with their lusus and disappeared into the woods, where they met sapnap!! they were two of the first ones to meet, followed by sam, bad, and skeppy. they were the original five of their group before everyone else came in!

giving u some beta kids lore rn that will be expanded on in my guardian oneshots :3 tubbo started coding things at like three years old. GENIUS KID! PRODIGY!! he can also just kind of feel when other people are nearby? schlatt never caught him awake at night because tubbo without even hearing him would hide his book or device under his pillow when schlatt is just THINKING of checking on the kid. insane. ranboo is constantly aware of the space around him. try to trip him?? he's hopping over your foot without even realizing it. throw something at him?? he's dodging or catching it without looking up. because of this he has near perfect aim. would KILL IT in baseball!!! also would make a great marksman! unfortunately his weapon of choice is a sword, but he'll get really good with that as well and may even throw his blades in a strife. always hits his targets. tommy can keep perfect time without a metronome. knows exactly what time it is without looking. knows exactly how much time has passed since something happened last, down to the second. would make a wonderful dancer for the way he keeps time, but wants to be like his bro and become a musician!! kind of unnerving when he says "it's 1:32 pm" without even looking up from his keyboard when wilbur asks what time it is. aimsey. kind of a terrifying kid to raise! there one second and gone the next. shadows are their friend. constantly disappearing somewhere, not like they're invisible, but like they're just. completely unnoticeable until they speak. your gaze just sweeps right over them, thinking they're another shadow in the corner. kristen wakes up in the middle of the night thinking no one is in her room and then aimsey says "grandma i frew up" suddenly standing at the end of her bed. it's a got damn wonder that kid didn't give her a heart attack before the game

OOH another very little thing. ranboosprite? from the doomed timeline? not dead. :3 they'll be back :3 hehehehehehe

#dreamstuck #friend tag :3 #ds!tommy is trans but like it doesnt' even rly register for him that he is bc he was just kind of raised as whatever his whole life #wilbur was like “oh shit this thing looks like a girl? eh i don't give a fuck phil said i'm havin a boy so i'll let it do what it wants” #aimsey similarly was raised kinda gender neutral because phil was like “idk what that one is gonna be? take a guess ig do whatever u want” #the trolls all met at varying points in time but the first five all met when they're were only like three sweeps old!! some of them younger #some met in person and some found each other over trollian until they were all together in one tight knit group #def wanna talk abt eret's backstory eventually but it's more than i can fit into dstuck at the moment so it might have to wait for a onesho #THANK U THANK U MAC I LOVE TALKIN ABOUT DSTUCK! UPD8 TOMORROW!!!! #ALSO IM LISTENIN 2 UR VASH PLAYLIST RN. U HAVE IMPECCABLE TASTE

[abeltownshipslittlebitch]

Sam: Jody taught me how to shoot a bow and arrow today so now I can finally say I can protect you.

Five: Nothing is sexier than a man who can put me out of my misery.

#five knows exactly what to say to give sam a panic attack #zombies run #zr #runner five #runners five #sam yao #5am #incorrect zombies run quotes

[dodo-begone]

New Normal

Pairing: Yandere!Tubbo x Reader (with some Ranboo)

Request: we need more yandere tubbo i absolutely love the way you wrote him shdhhfjd........ maybe a short fic or some headcanons elaborating on "waking up in the mansion one day"? maybe the reader gets more afraid than going along with it .. I'd love to see ranboos aspect regarding tubbos behavior as well 👀

Word count: 2.3 k

Warning: yandere, kidnapping, drugging

A/n: This is all platonic. Nothing romantic. Also this was meant to be short not this long oh lord.

The night had been unforgiving to you as of late. Every night you felt like you were being watched over. It was so weird. It didn’t matter if the windows were open or not. Or even if they had blinds over them. Your paranoia was being fed by every noise emanating from the darkness. Now you weren’t afraid of the dark, never had been. But now, oh god the dark was terrifying. The unknown of the dark scared you. Anything could be hiding in there. And with this new “admirer” of yours, your newfound fear of the shadows was being fed a damn feast. The last straw for you was when you came home one night and saw your window broken and front door open. It spooked you too much; what if they were still inside? You couldn’t risk that.

That’s how you found yourself in Tubbo’s house, on his couch, hunched over and shaking over a cup of tea. You don’t remember why you came here, in all honesty. There were so many other people you could have chosen that were more than capable of protecting you. There was Sam, Bad, Sapnap, even Technoblade. Yet you still went to Tubbo. He was a comforting presence for you. And you just really wanted some comfort for this new fear of yours. Is this what I child felt when they were scared of the dark and needed a flashlight? God now you feel so bad for making fun of little kids for needing those.

“Hey are you okay,” a hand just fucking attacks your shoulder and you wip around. Oh god what if the guy got you now- wait it’s just Tubbo. Wow you overreacted there. Your swift actions shocked Tubbo, making him take a few steps away from you. He held his hands up in the air; an attempt to show he meant no harm to you. But you were just relieved at the sight of Tubbo.

“I don’t know,” a lump was forming in your throat. The tea isn't helping at all. You were so upset that you couldn’t even tell what flavor it was. Nor did you ask Tubbo, but that didn’t matter. Only distractions mattered now; a way to get your mind off of the paranoid thoughts. “I think I am”. Your grip on the cup tightened. Some of that was you trying to ground yourself, but another part of it was just tension. It was becoming harder to breathe and you had no idea why. There wasn’t a reason. Start breathing normally again- uh what was that breathing exercise?

Tubbo came around the couch and sat by your side. “Hey, can you look at me really quick?” He grabbed your hands and you looked at him. Somehow looking into his eyes made it harder to breathe. “Okay now repeat after me- wait not repeat. Uh, do what I do. Ready?” You didn’t get a chance to reply before he started. “Okay take a deep breath with me. In through the mouth for five and out the nose for four. In for five, out for four.” A small pattern formed from the mantra. Something about the exercise was extremely comforting, but you were never sure on what it was. Well you knew it had to do with slowing your breathing and helping you focus, but you felt like there was something else to it. There had to be something else to it. Why else would it be able to calm you so well right now?

It took a while, but you finally calmed down. Well, “calmed down” being a relative term. You were tired and numb inside. Your attention was completely focused on the flames in the hearth. They were mesmerizing. Happily dancing away, illuminating the room.

You hadn’t realized what was happening. All you remember is looking at Tubbo and then everything just became blurry. The sting of tears stung your eyes. Oh, you were about to cry again. That’s so annoying, stupid. You had just calmed down and yet you’re still crying. Craving human contact must be a symptom of sadness or some shit because you looked at Tubbo for comfort. And he gave you exactly that; opening his arms to give you a hug. Without a second thought, you essentially flew into his arms. He accepted you immediately and held you close. The tears that had once been contained by a damn once again ran free. Slowly you grew tired. Oh how you despised the act of crying and how it drained you so. A little nap wouldn’t hurt.

__________________________________ The sunbeams were attacking you and it hurt so much. So bright, demanding. You didn’t want to get up. Sleepiness still held you captive, flowed through your body like the very blood you had. Yet the light was relentless, attacking your closed eyes through it’s armor. A valiant effort was made to stay asleep and keep the sunlight out of your eyes. But it was futile. Rolling over did nothing but illicit noise and made you mildly uncomfortable. When you finally gave in, you just stared blankly at the wall.

For a wall, it was pretty. Kinda. It was plain but a stylish kind of plain. A timeless look. It took ages to finally muster the energy to even sit up, but you still did. The view changed yet it didn’t at the same time. It was pretty empty in the room. Three doorways, two next to each other on your right and one on your left, a bed, some curtains, a small nightstand, and a bookshelf. Other than that, there was a ton of open space.

Once you regained some more consciousness, you slipped out of bed. There was a jingle, but you didn’t really pay attention to it. You definitely heard it, you just thought something fell on the floor. Whatever it was could wait. The unexplored room was just waiting for exploration, though you could have easily explored it from your bed because of how empty it was. When you got to one of the doors, you slowly opened it to reveal a closet. It was absolutely filled with clothes you liked. Or some you were missing. Didn’t you own that shirt at home? And that one too? Huh, what a coincidence. Pretty cool.

Not even two steps away from the closet was another door, which you also slowly opened. Didn’t want to hit anyone. Through that door was a bathroom. It was pretty big and pretty. Very shiny and clean. There were some care products in there, some shampoo and conditioner. But you stopped yourself from looking too much. You didn’t want to snoop. It was rather rude to do.

Grogley you turn toward the last mystery door. It was all the way on the other side of the room. Man you weren’t awake enough for this. Yawning, you start your way to the other doorway. That must be the way back to the rest of the mansion. Sadly you didn’t get far. Not even halfway there before you were stopped. More accurately tripped. Something made your foot slip from underneath, making you fall onto your stomach. Everything ached, but your ankle felt weird. It was a different pain. When you tried to pull it closer to examine it, something stopped it and the sound of metal hitting itself rang across the room. You nearly give yourself whiplash from how quickly you turn your head.

A metal cuff clung onto your ankle which in turn was connected to a tense chain. At the other end of the chain was one of the bedposts. Specifically the one closest to the closet and bathroom. That’s odd. Okay now what’s going on here? Oh did Tubbo do this to make you feel more secure? Well it was and wasn’t working all at the same time. Because who puts an ankle chain on somebody?

A knock interrupted your thoughts. From your spot on the floor, you whipped your head back around to the last mystery door. You stayed quiet, wondering if you were just imagining noises. But another knock soon came. It was undeniable, very pronounced and purposeful. Whoever was out there- what could they be here for. Panic started to overtake you again, but the sound of Tubbo’s voice coming from the other side of the door caught your attention.

“Can I come in,” Tubbo announces his presence again with another round of knocks. With the amount of noise you made, you were pretty sure he knew you were awake. But you still replied to him.

“Yeah you can.”

Not even a second after you reply, the door slowly opens and Tubbo peaks his head in. He seemed to have woken up with some bedhead, which made him look boyish. A little careless for physical appearances, which can be an endearing feature. Tubbo gave the room a sweeping look, checking for something. What exactly, you couldn’t tell. But apparently he was satisfied because he opened the doorway entirely. You swiftly stood up, getting as close to the door as you could.

On the other side of the door was Tubbo in some pajamas. He looked a little sleepy, but his happiness shone through it. You smiled at the sight of him, happy that someone came to get you out.

“Good morning, Tubbo!” You gave a toothy grin and spread your arms to emphasize your joy. “Sleep well?”

“Good morning!.” He gave you a toothy smile in return, but it looked odd. Like it was forced, nervous even. But you must’ve just been looking too far into it. “I slept pretty good. How’d you sleep?”

“I slept like a fucking rock,” you reply with a little laughter. “Honestly? Best sleep of the month, man. Really needed it. Thanks for letting me bunk at your place last night.”

“Not a problem at all,” his smile soon became more natural, much bigger. “I really enjoyed having you over”. It seemed like he was going to say something else, but stopped himself. The nervous look reappeared on his face, and you gave the most reassuring look you could. “So about you moving in-”

“Oh yeah that,” your smile disappeared as quickly as it came. “I can’t just do that Tubbo. I just can’t.” Tubbo seemed saddened by your response. “It’s not like I don’t want to live with you,” you explained. “I’d love to live with you and Ranboo, but I have other responsibilities. Things that have to be done very far from the mansion. Seriously, I’d love to stay.”

“Then stay.” It was a simple statement on his part. You thought it was a little banter.

“I’d stay if I could Tubbo. But I gotta go.”

“You can’t go.”

“Yes I can, Tubbo. Now can you please unchain me, I gotta go.” You lift your ankle and shake it along with the chain for emphasis.

But Tubbo doesn’t even give it a look before answering. “You can’t leave.”

His actions are words are a bit worrying now, huh. This is just a silly prank. Any second now he’ll say it’s a joke and release you. Yeah, any moment now.

That moment never comes though.

“Come on now,” Tubbo starts to lead you back to the bed. “Get back in bed. You still look tired.”

“I’m not tired Tubbo,” your voice hardens to emphasise the fact that you really don’t need this shit right now. “Look I’m completely fine and I have to go. This joke isn’t funny anymore. Just unlock the fucking cuff and I’ll be on my way.”

You two stop at the bed and he gently ushers you in. Climbing on the bed to give you a hug. Struggling against him does no good. If anything, it just makes things worse. He just tightens his grip like a damn python. Wtf why is this kid so strong and clingy? This definitely isn’t a good combo.

“Look you aren’t fine. See?” He emphasizes his point by hugging you tighter. Which you don’t like and groan in protest. “You need to rest. It’s fine. You’re home.”

Internally you start to panic. Yo, hold up, what the hell is he talking about? You know damn well you ain’t home or agreed to stay here. So what does he think he’s doing?

There’s a cough from the doorway, and both you and Tubbo’s attention is diverted to the newcomer. At the threshold of the room is Ranboo. A platter loaded with food held between his hands. He looks awkward standing there. And you don’t blame him because you felt awkward just being in the hug. You couldn’t even imagine the embarrassment you’d get from walking in on this shit. When your eyes meet, he gives you a small, unsure smile.

Movement behind Ranboo catches your attention. You look behind Ranboo’s legs to see Micheal clinging onto Ranboo’s pants. He looked so happy. Well, happy being debatable and interpretive. He looked normal but he was making his little happy noises. Micheal bounded over to you, stretching his arms out while making the most adorable little oink noises. You look between Tubbo and Ranboo for any sign. Literally anything for them. But Tubbo just encourages you. So you pick up Micheal and hold him close to your chest.

Tubbo gives a cheer of joy while Ranboo joins in, though a little less enthusiastic. Still the fact he sounded genuinely happy about this situation was worrying. Especially since he knew what was going on. Knew how wrong it all was. Micheal had no idea. Happily oinking way in your lap and messing with your hands. Suddenly two sets of arms entangle themselves around you; pulling themselves toward you for a hug.

Looking down at Micheal, you now question if the backstory you were told about him was true. Was he actually found wandering around? Or was he kidnapped, just like you?

#c: tubbo #c: ranboo #tw: yandere #yandere #dodo writing #mcyt x reader #x reader #dsmp x reader #dsmp!tubbo #dsmp!ranboo #tubbo x reader #ranboo x reader #yandere tubbo #yandere ranboo #yandere tubbo x reader #tw: kidnapping #tw: drugging #dsmp!ranboo x reader #dsmp!tubbo x reader

[the-bau-quinjet]

heyy do you think you can do a steve rogers x reader where the rest of the avengers try to matchmake them because everyone ships them (& everyone knows that they're both in love with each other besides themselves LMAO)? it would be EXTRA amazing if you could make it such that the reader is smaller/shorter than steve? personally really love the height difference in a relationship but if not it's fine too! thank you so much, have a great day ahead xoxo

Set Us Up

Warnings: 2455

Word Count: crude language, but mostly fluff

a/n: This took me a hot minute because I couldn't think of ways for everyone to try and set them up lol, but I think this is super cute! I hope you have a great day too!!

Masterlist

"He totally has a thing for you! Nat, back me up." Wanda turned to the redhead.

You, Wanda, and Nat were supposed to be training. Instead, the two of them have been trying to convince you to make a move on Steve. As if that would ever happen.

"She's right." Nat replied calmly.

"Would you two stop gossiping and just train with me! Please!" You have never confirmed your crush on Steve, but that didn't mean your two best friends didn't know about it.

"Y/N, I'm serious. That man is crazy about you." Wanda tried again while Nat easily defended your attack.

"Wanda, he's my friend. That it." You refused to make eye contact, knowing she would she the longing in your eyes. Instead you kept advancing on Nat.

"Friends don't look at each other like that." Wanda smirked, knowing you'd fall into her trap.

"Like what?" You continued sparring with Nat.

"Like he wants to fuck you against any flat surface available." She stated matter-of-factly.

"Wanda!" You finally turned to her. Unfortunately, that was the point where Nat went on the offensive.

She easily tackled you to the ground, unable to stop her own momentum. She folded you like a pretzel, resulting in a very pitiful whine from you.

"Ow." You complained from the ground, not bothering with trying to get up.

"I know exactly what you need." Nat smirked devilishly. "Steve!" She called across the gym, only making you wince further.

"Steve! Can you do me a favor?" Nat asked the super soldier, knowing he was never one to turn down a friend in need.

"'Course, what do you need?" He made his way across the gym to where you were still sprawled out on the mats.

"Y/N just took a pretty bad beating. Can you help her stretch?" Her and Wanda wore matching smirks despite trying to hide them. "I'd do it, but I promised Wanda I'd help her with something, and we have to go now."

Steve barely had time to respond before the two women were making their way out of the gym.

"Hey, Y/N." He greeted you kindly, looming over your body which was still on the ground. "Are you okay?"

You huffed, glared at the door where your friends just abandoned you, and then smiled at Steve. "Yeah, Wanda just distracted me and you know what that means when you're sparring with Nat."

He grimaced slightly, imaging the beating you just experienced.

"I've definitely been there." He gestured for you to put your foot in his hand. "Here, give me your ankle."

You followed his instructions, lifting your left leg until he grabbed onto your ankle. He slowly pushed your leg forward, helping to stretch your hamstring.

You couldn't help but laugh at the way he had to bend over slightly to fully push on your leg.

"What's so funny?" He tickled your leg before gesturing for you to switch.

"Nothing. You're just really tall." You snickered again at his hunched over frame. Your foot didn't even reach his hips, meaning his back was arched at an odd angle to give him the correct leverage to help you stretch.

"Maybe you're just short. Ever think of that?" He raised a brow, dropping your right leg back to the floor. "C'mon, give me your hands."

You raised your arms up like a petulant child, knowing he would have to bend down to reach your hands.

He rolled his eyes at your childish behavior, but ultimately bent down to grasp your hands. He pulled you to your feet a bit too harshly causing your body to stumble into his.

Your head landed squarely against his chest, really showing off the height difference.

"See," he put a hand on top of your head. "You're just short."

You shoved him slightly, backing away from his warm body. "That may be true, but that doesn't mean you can go around saying it." You playfully glared at the much taller man.

"I'm sorry. Come with me, I'll make you a smoothie to make up for it."

Despite your best efforts, you couldn't keep the grin off your face.

"Deal."

You just knew Nat and Wanda would be all smirks when you inevitably filled them in on this whole encounter.

-

"Who moved all the mugs?" You muttered to yourself. You spent the last five minutes standing on the tips of your toes trying to reach the mugs that, for some reason, had been move to the very top shelf.

Then you spent another five minutes looking for the step stool you kept in the kitchen.

You were about to resort to climbing on top of the counter when Steve walked into the kitchen.

You didn't even have to ask for his help before he was walking up behind you and reaching for a mug. His body briefly brushed against yours as he pulled the mug from the shelf, plopping it down on the counter in front of you.

"Thank you." You smiled at him, unsure if you could form any additional words.

"Anytime, short stuff." He smirked.

"Hey! It's not my fault someone felt the need to reorganize the cabinets." You whined. "Who does that?"

"I think it was Tony." He chuckled. "He said something about helping two idiots realized they're in love." He shrugged.

"That man is so weird." The two of you laughed, completely oblivious to Tony's plan.

-

"You ready to go, punk?" Steve could tell just by the look on Bucky's face that something was up.

"What did you do, jerk?" He eyed him suspiciously.

"Nothing!" He quickly looked down the hall, knowing you and Sam were supposed to emerge any second.

"Sam! You promised you would take me to Coney Island today!" You followed him down the hall, not realizing Bucky and Steve were already in the living room.

"I know, but I can't! I have to fix my wings." He glanced at Bucky conspiratorially. "Tin man, Tony said he needs you in the lab. Something about updating the tech in your arm."

Bucky looked back at Steve.

"Sorry, man. Gotta go." Bucky went to leave, but turned back before he made it out of the doorway. "Why don't you and Y/N go?"

"That's a great idea!" Sam added on. "You two go have fun."

The two of them ran from the room together before you could protest.

"Looks like it's just you and me." You smiled at Steve, grabbing your purse and heading for the door. "You coming?"

"Definitely." He smiled right back at you before leading you to the car.

The car ride took a while, but it felt like no time at all while talking to Steve.

"What's your favorite part?" He gestured to the park map as the two of you walked in.

"I've actually never been before. That's why I was so bummed when Sam said he was busy." You looked around the park entrance, taking in all the bright colors and happy people.

"I'll just have to show you all of my favorite parts then." He smiled at the look of wonder on your face, slowly reaching for your hand.

"I'd like that." You bit your lip nervously, butterflies swarming in your stomach when he took your hand.

He showed you around the entire park, starting with the rides. You went on every ride you could, only stopping when a fan asked for an autograph or a picture from one or both of you.

"Those are all the best rides." He smiled confidently.

"Really? No ferris wheel?" You pouted a bit. "I've always wanted to ride a ferris wheel."

"Don't worry, we will." He grabbed your hand again. "It's better to save that for the end of the night. Right now, it's time for games."

You couldn't help but smile at his antics. He genuinely looked to be having the best time in the world, and you honestly felt the same way.

"Lead the way."

The two of you made your way to the arcade, where Steve let every kid beat him.

His face lit up with joy watching them celebrate beating Captain America at various carnival games. When the game seemed unbeatable, he would win and let the kid choose a prize.

At the last game, he whispered with one kid as you looked on suspiciously. The little boy grinned, nodding his head in complete seriousness before turning back to the game.

When Steve won, the little kid smiled bigger than anyone else had all day. Steve walked back over to you with an enormous gray teddy bear.

"Your losing streak ends." You gestured to the bear.

"Yeah, well little Michael over there said I needed to win a prize for my pretty friend. He said he'd throw the game for me." He spoke with complete seriousness, causing you to giggle.

"That might be the cutest thing I've ever heard." Your face was the epitome of heart eyes as you looked between Steve and the bear. You pulled him into a massive hug before finally stepping back and trying to calm down.

"What's next?" You grabbed the bear, holding it tightly in one arm.

"Food!" Again, he held your hand as he lead you around the park.

He walked with you along the boardwalk, pointing out various spots to get different foods. Some had been there since he was a kid, others were clearly newer.

"This used to be my favorite." He smiled fondly looking at the Nathan's Famous sign.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" You walked confidently up to the window only to realize you had no idea what to order. "Steve! What should I get?"

He laughed at the panic on your face. Without even realizing, he put his arm around your shoulder, drawing you closer to him. You went easily, leaning into his touch.

"Can we get two Coney dogs and a large order of fries?" He asked the attendant taking orders. "Do you want anything to drink?" He looked down at you as though this were an everyday occurance.

"A slushie!" Your eyes went wide, a giddy kind of excitement growing in you.

"And two cherry slushies, please." He fished out his wallet with his free hand, still holding you close.

You moved to get money as well, but Steve shook his head. "This one's on me, sweetheart."

You all but melted at the pet name, hiding your smile by burying your head between your bear and his chest.

You signed a few more autographs and posed for more pictures while you waited for your food. A little kid came up to the two of you just as your order was called.

"I'll get it." You gestured for him to talk to the child.

"Captain America!" The little girl smiled widely when Steve crouched down to talk to her. "Are you on a date?"

Steve's face reddened at the question, but it made him think. "You know what, I think I am." He shook his head when he finally realized that Bucky and Sam set the two of you up without either of you realizing it.

"My mommy's gonna be sad. She said you're really handsome." The little girl laughed.

"Well, she's right. He is really handsome." You whispered conspiratorially as you returned with the food.

The little girl laughed before running back to her mom.

"C'mon, we can go sit on that bench." Steve gestured to an empty bench overlooking the beach. The two of you joked and laughed while you ate, but Steve couldn't stop thinking about the little girl's question.

"It's beautiful." You looked out over the sand. The sun was low in the sky, reflecting off the water.

"Breathtaking." Steve agreed, his eyes focused on you rather than the view.

"It's later in the day. Does that mean it's time for the ferris wheel?" You smiled widely, a common occurrence for the day.

"Yep. The ferris wheel is the very last thing to do before leaving." He threw away the trash from your meal before taking your hand in his.

"Why's that?" You looked up at him curiously.

"It's slow enough for you to enjoy the ride, even after eating. Plus, you get the best view from the top when the sun is setting." The two of you stood in line as he explained his reasoning.

"I guess you really know all the best tricks." You smiled at him, hugging the bear to avoid any embarrassing actions.

"Not really. Just the old ones." He joked.

"Steve Rogers! Did you just joke about your age?" You gaped at him playfully.

"Hey! If I can't joke about your height, you can't joke about my age." He pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"I guess that's fair." You nudged him with your shoulder, but he remained solid as a rock.

The two of you sat next to each other in the cart, placing the stuffed bear across from you.

"You were right. This is an incredible end to a marvelous day." You looked out over the park, taking in the pink and orange hues from the sunset.

"Y/N... I think Sam and Bucky set us up." He looked at you nervously.

"Yeah, they did a great job of it too." You replied easily, having realized much earlier than Steve what was going on.

"You're not upset?" He questioned, a confused look on his face. You decided to respond with an unfamiliar amount of bravery.

"Steve, I had an incredible day. The only way I'd be upset is if you didn't kiss me at the end of it." You smiled shyly.

"What if I kissed you now, even though it's not technically the end?" His smile matched your own.

"That'd be okay too."

"You both leaned in, meeting in the middle for a soft and romantic first kiss. His lips moved against yours as if they were made for each other.

"Steve?" You pulled back for air.

"Yes?" He smiled blissfully, forehead still pressed against yours.

"I think we're the idiots in love with each other." You whispered softly, thinking back to what Tony had said.

"I think you might be right."

He smiled, pulling you to kiss you again.

"Steve?" You pulled back again, a bright smile on your face.

"Yes?" His eyes remained closed, just breathing in the moment.

"The ride is over..."

His eyes snapped open, a blush painting his cheeks when the ride attendant awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Sorry!" He jumped from the ride, grabbing the bear in one hand and you in the other.

"Where to now?" You questioned, laughing as he pulled you through the park.

"Home, so I can end this date right."

Permanent tag list:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fic #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america x y/n #captain america fic

[chocolatecakecas]

Rockin' the Suburbs: Destiel Fic Chapter 1

Chp2 Chp3 Chp4 or read on ao3

Pretending to be married to his best friend who he's secretly in love with? Dean's totally got this under control. But pretending to be married and raising an actual toddler with his best friend who he's secretly in love with? Yeah so maybe he doesn't have it totally, under control, actually he's screwed. Fake married case fic+actual baby Jack? What could go wrong?

This was all Sam's fault.

Sam had strolled into the war room yesterday afternoon announcing that he had found a case in Sudbury, Massachusetts. Six people died, all parents, all with one kid, kids lived, but the parents, they weren't so lucky. It was in one of those Stepford gated communities where every house looked the same, "Pleasant Acres", or some crap like that. Meaning, Jody, Donna and Claire were all set to take the case, but they called twenty minutes ago saying they got caught up on a hunt in Montana. So now they were all shifting through their contacts, trying to find hunters with kids, since whatever it was only seemed to target families.

And Dean's been feeling well, weird, ever since Sam brought up the case yesterday. Something itching in the back of his mind. He's of course been  trying to ignore it, but now that he's reading over the case it's getting stronger, making his twist in way he definitely doesn't want to unpack.

He glances up across the room, eyes quickly finding Cas and Jack. Cas is seated across from him on Jack's blanket, helping him build unstable block towers, just so he could knock them down.

(read the rest under the cut)

Dean's stomach twists again, and an all too familiar feeling washes over him.

Yeah, he definitely doesn't want to unpack it.

"Hey, I think I got something" Sam calls pulling Dean from his trance as Cas stands, making his way back to his chair.

"So Sarah and Mike Johnson? Jody met them, and their daughter, Katie on a hunt last year. They live somewhat close by, so I'll try to give them a call" Sam continues, reaching for his phone.

And now, Dean doesn't know why, but he felt that thing squirm deep inside him, and the next thing he knew, he was talking.

"Why don't we take it?" Dean practically shouts startling everyone, including himself.

Sam paused, cellphone halfway to his ear and Cas' head snapped up so quick Dean's worried he has whiplash.

And so Dean freezes, mouth suddenly very dry.

What the hell was he doing, why was h-

"Why don't we take the case? I mean the thing is only going after families right, and we-we've got an 18 month old super baby right here. So we cou-two of us could take Jack for a week, play house for a week, and gank the thing" Dean somehow chokes out, watching as Sam and Cas' stare with increasingly disbelieving looks.

Dean’s heart began pounding against his chest.

Dean could barely believe the suggestion to take the hunt came out of his mouth, let alone bringing the kid? Completely out of the question, way too dangerous. He's not just gonna put the kid directly in harms way, on a hunt for godsake! And yet the suggestion had rolled off his tongue anyway? Dean didn't know why.

God what the hell was wrong with him today?

But it's not like he can just take it back now that he practically screamed it, so in favor of looking like an idiot or delving into the reason behind why he said it, Dean sat in his own silent panic.

From across the table he watched Sam's face contort into about three different emotions, finally landing on something that looked like agreement.

Shit.

"Well, that might actually be a goo-" Sam started with a sigh

"You can't seriously be suggesting we bring Jack along on a hunt? It's too dangerous, we've barely even left the bunker with him" Cas immediately cut in and god Dean could kis-Dean was very relieved.

And Sam surely wouldn't argue with that. So he was in the clear. He could just forget about this whole stupid conversation like it never happened, and never have to think about it ag-

"Exactly, I mean you guys have barely left the house and Jack has barely even seen the world. I hate to say it, but I think it'd be good, for all of us" Sam replied reluctantly.

And there goes Dean's heart rate.

"Sam, we don't even know what we're up against it co-"

"I know Cas, but he'll be with us. And besides, it looks like whatever's doing this, is only taking victims with young children, not a single one is over the age of five. So it's probably better if we end up taking the case anyway, rather than Sarah and Mike, or even Jody and the girls. We're the only one with a kid under ten. Plus he's half angel, we're probably at greater risk than Jack is" Sam reasons carefully.

A tense silence fell over them, the only sound was Jack babbling to himself on the other side of the room. Dean wanted to say something, wanted to say he doesn't know what he was thinking and it's crazy and they shouldn't take the case, but his mouth wasn't exactly on his side today.

He snuck a glance at Cas who has his eyes trained on Jack.

The tension was killing him, Dean had to say something. He couldn't just let this happen because his stupid mouth started talking nonsense.

So he swallows thickly, opening his mouth to take it all back, so they could forget this whole conversation ever happened, so he wouldn't have to think about why h-

"You're right" Cas sighs, looking as if his answer deflated him.

And Dean couldn't agree more with that sentiment because suddenly all of the air was knocked out of his lungs. He must have looked like it too because Sam met his eyes across the table, leveling him with a look Dean can't decipher.

Then suddenly, a smile spread across his face, which in his experience, is never a good sign.

"Alright so, Dean can stay at a nearby hotel, while Cas and I take the nei-"

"I'll go with Cas" Dean blurted before he even realized what was happening.

He snapped his jaw shut, but apparently not quick enough. Again, Dean didn't know why he said that, but that thing was back swirling around his stomach so he assumed it had to do with whatever the hell that was. And his mouth must have a mind of it's own today because he's pretty sure he didn't tell it to start moving, let alone say that.

Dean's heart beat against his chest, face burning. He forced his eyes to look up at Sam, not daring to even glance in Cas' direction. He can't handle any look that might be on his face. What if he'd rather go with Sam? What if he's ang-

"Okay it's all settled then, I mean so long as that's good with you Cas?" Sam asked, smile turning into a smirk.

"Yes, that's good with me" Cas replied, tone unreadable.

Was he really okay with it? Was he creeped out by the way Dean cut in? Was he actually annoyed that he'd have to be with Dean?

All great questions, with sadly no answers. Because Dean would have to actually look at him, if he wanted any insight to what Cas was thinking, and that was so not going to happen. Not with his face still on fire.

"Alright perfect! I'll call the real estate agent, about setting up a house tour, you guys start packing? And oh, don't forget to think of your backstory so you're both on the same page! We can leave in the morning" Sam said with a too wide smile, as he pushed himself out of his chair. Sam stopped for a moment, giving him a look that Dean definitely didn't want to think about right now, before turning down the hall with a skip in his step.

Yup, this was definitely all Sam's fault.

Heart still racing in his chest, Dean braves a look over at Cas.

And a bit of relief floods through him when he catches those blue eyes. Cas seemed fine, doesn't look angry or disgusted at the thought of doing this thing with Dean. So he counts that as a win, and his heart rate slows a bit, but he still doesn't know what Cas is thinking, and he needs to know.

But he doesn't dare say anything, because at this point anything could come out of his mouth, and that's definitely not a risk Dean's willing to take after the mini heart attack he just suffered. So, awkward silence it was until Cas decides to speak up.

Eventually, after what feels like hours, Cas slumps forward folding his hands on the table as he stares over at Jack. Dean follows his gaze, watching Jack knock over his lopsided block tower with an excited shriek. A small smile tugs at his lips.

"Dean, I still think this is reckless" Cas sighs and Dean turns back, finding his eyes trained on him, filled with worry.

Dean's smile slips at the sight, his heart clenching and he pretends not to know the real reason why.

Things were already...weird between him and Cas lately, and now his dumbass had to go and make it worse. Because what the hell was he thinking suggesting they take this hunt, bring along the kid, and practically beg to pretend to live with Cas. Jesus, Cas is probably beyond creeped out and angry.

Dean has to fix this.

"Cas, listen I'm sorry it was a stupid idea-I don't even know why I said it. Because now we're putting Jack in danger-and it's not fair that you're gonna have to be stuck pretending to be married to me because I-I'm gonna go find Sam and we can just call the whole thing off, and he can contact that other family an-"

"Dean, no stop I want to do the hunt" Cas cut in quickly, effectively stopping Dean's rambling.

"But yo-"

"I said I still thought it was reckless, and it is-to bring Jack along I mean. But Sam's right he's barely gotten out of the bunk-we've all barely gotten out of here, so I think it'll be good for all of us. And besides Jack has his powers" Cas replied, gaze shifting back to Jack.

Dean let out a breathe he didn't realize he was holding. Cas wasn't angry at him, he wanted to go on the hunt. And he didn't seem too torn up about doing it with Dean so-

"Jack will have us to protect him the entire time. And I'm glad it's with you, I feel safer about the whole endeav-not that Sam isn't a phenomenal hunter. He is, but let's face it he isn't the world's best babysitter when it comes to Jack" Cas said turning back to Dean with an amused smile.

He's of course talking about the last time Sam watched Jack, where they walked in to see Sam trying to coax Jack off the ceiling into a laundry basket piled with blankets.

Dean couldn't help crack a smile at Cas' little joke. The squirming feeling had disappeared, leaving Dean feeling much calmer about the whole thing as he relaxed in his chair.

They'd be fine, this would be just like any other hu-

"So, Sam mentioned a backstory? Should we come up with that now, so we aren't caught off guard when someone asks?" Cas suggested, eyes staring into Dean's.

And just like that, Dean's calm had left the building.

"Uh yeah sure. Let's do th-let's start with how we met" Dean managed, now that his throat had gone dry again.

"Well, we met September 19th, 2008 in a barn in-"

"Okay September 2008, we can use that-but let's turn the barn into a bar instead? I saw you sitting at the bar alone, bought you a drink, we started talking, boom the rest is history" Dean raced, wanting very much to be done with this conversation.

"Dean, people always seem to be interested in these kinds of stories. We're probably going to need more information if anyone is going to buy it"

Damnit. Cas had a point, stupid angel always has to be right. So he puffed out a breathe, unclenching his fists under the table.

Breathe Winchester. It's just some fake story.

"Alright alright, so I saw you at the bar, you looked lonely so I bought you a drink and we got to talking. You uh...just got out of a long relationship with a bad ex, and I had just been through hell and back with my job-"

"Oh I see, like me rebelling against heaven, and you literally going to hel-"

"Yeah genius how'd you crack that cod" Dean quipped only to be cut off by a swift kick to the shin. Cas shot him a smug smile causing Dean to roll his eyes, and his stomach definitely did not flip.

Get it together Winchester

"So you helped me through a terrible breakup, and I helped you through the stress of your job. In a way we saved each other, which isn't so different from our real story" Cas continues.

And Dean swears his friggin heart stopped, Cas' words knocking the wind out of him.

God Dean should have stopped thi-

"By the way, what is your job going to be?" Cas questioned with his usual tilt of the head that definitely did not send Dean's heart racing even faster.

"Don't care you pick" Dean managed to force out, as he tried to gain control of his anxiety.

"A mechanic, I think. You love working on Baby, I think you'd enjoy getting to fix and help other people's cars for a living" Cas suggested in the most sincere tone Dean's ever heard. And how Dean somehow managed a nod of approval through his internal breakdown, he'll never know.

"Alright, so you pick what my job is then" Cas smiled softly, either not noticing Dean's panic or clearly ignoring it. Dean was grateful for either option.

Dean managed to reign in his stupid freak out long enough to get his brain working.

"A college professor-maybe like English lit or something. I know you like to read, and you always like to talk to about the books after you finish them. That is if you wa-"

"I think that's perfect, it sounds like a nice career"

"Great, so met in September 2008, mechanic and English Professor helped each other through their crap. Now they're moving to the suburbs to grill burgers in the backyard and fight to get the kid into a good preschool. Sounds like we've go-"

"Oh, we need a wedding anniversary" Cas cut in.

And yeah Dean's 100% sure his heart stopped this time.

How could Dean be so stupid, they wouldn't have to just pretend to be together (which was difficult enough within itself, for reasons he'd rather not discuss), they'd have to be married. Of course he knew this logically, but since his mouth had a friggin mind of it's own, he wasn't really thinking about the implications.

Married. To Cas. With a kid. A family.

And god, Dean couldn't even sa-no he's so not unboxing that right now.

"Uh, got married in our backyard. Just pick any date" Dean said weakly once he found his voice.

Cas was silent for a moment, expression unreadable. Then he nodded to himself

"November 2nd, 2017"

And that was the final hit. Dean was sent spiraling, losing any control he had regained.

The day Cas got out of the empty, the night he called Dean, the night Dean tried to-

"Alright, good. Sounds like we've got everything covered. I'm gonna get a start on packing, why don't you put Squirt over there down for his nap" Dean said jumping to his feet and quickly made his way to his room without a glance backwards. He feels like shit for leaving Cas just sitting there, but he had to get away before he really lost it.

Dean carefully tries not to slam his door and flops down on his bed. His thoughts buzz around in his skull, while about ten different emotions wash over him all at once. With a groan he reaches out and punches his mattress, which doesn't do much of anything seeing as its memory foam.

God what the hell had he gotten himself into.

He just agreed to be fake married to his best friend and live in a house in the suburbs with a 18 month old child.

He was crazy. He didn't even know why he said anythi-god who was he kidding. Of course he knew why he said it, he just didn't know why he let himself say them out loud. Now he's gonna have to play house with Cas and Jack for at least a week, when he can't even admit to himself th-

No. He can't let any of that get in the way. He can't throw himself a pity party just because Cas doesn-this stupid hunt was his own stupid fault, also partially Sam's (Dean's still sticking to that, thank you very much)

This is still a hunt, there are lives at stake. He can stow it. For everyone's sake.

So Dean sighs running his hands through his hair as he racked his mind for what he'd have to pack. On autopilot he began grabbing his clothes and usual crap, shoving it into his bag. As he zipped it up, his eyes landed on a box in the top of his closet.

In a flash he had the box down, lid off, sitting on his lap. Dean reached inside, pulling out two rings and his stomach flipped at the sight.

Yeah, it was gonna be a long night.

The next morning they were all in the garage packing up the trunk, getting ready to leave for their two day drive. Sam said the real estate agent was ecstatic that they were interested in the house. Must be a hard sell since the last three owners died inside.

Dean was strapping Jack into his car seat, rings weighing his pocket down, like a boulder.

"I'm gonna grab the last bag from the kitchen" Sam announced as he jogged out of the garage.

Well, it was now or never. So Dean drew in a shaky breath and walked around the car.

"Uh Cas, here" Dean said lamely, holding out a ring between his fingers.

Cas tilted his, eyes widening at the object.

"We're uh, supposed to be married right? So we need rings ya know" Dean continued unsure of how to proceed.

Cas nodded in understanding, carefully taking it from Dean's fingers, and slipped onto his left hand.

Dean gasped, and quickly tried to cover it up

"Uh yeah sorry of it's too tight, it's mind from years ago. I used to wear a few of them all the time, but they hurt like a bitch when you gotta deck someone" Dean rambled, face heating up.

"It's perfect, thank you" Cas smiled, meeting his eyes.

The squirming feeling was back, and squirmier than ever.

"What about you?" Cas asked looking at Dean's empty fingers.

"Oh! I've got my mom's old wedding ring. Had it resized to fit years ago, so I figured it would work" Dean rushed, pulling the second ring out of his pocket and slipping it onto his finger.

When he looked up again, Cas was staring at him with a look Dean had never seen on him before. It made his heart skip a beat in his chest.

"Alright! You guys ready to go?" Sam called as he walked back through the door, causing both of them to jump.

Moment ruined.

Without a word, they quickly climbed into the Impala. As Dean went to turn the key, his eyes traveled to the rearview mirror.

Jack giggling in his car seat as Cas wiggled his stuffed rabbit right above his head. Cas suddenly looked up catching his eye in the mirror, giving him a soft smile, which Dean found himself easily returning.

His eyes slid over to Sam, who was staring at the ring on his finger. Then Sam met his eyes, offering him a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

So Dean quickly snapped his attention forward, and turned the key a bit too hard.

Yeah, Dean was fucked.

Tag list:

(Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed💛!!!)

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @organicpurplepants

@writtendevastation @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @shadowywerewolfqueen @the-cookie-navy @thelahatiel @thefantasyfiend @castielle-deanna @aestheticflyer26

@multi-fandom-imagine @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x @wellofwoes @becky-srs @multi-fandom-dark-lord @perfectkoaladream @castiel-for-lunch @it--hurts--to--become @bowtiesandneckerchiefs @dakiaty @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @hrh-princess-bea @martymar1963 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @midnight-sparks-studio @slipper007 @winchester-novak

#looks its a fic that i actually planned out!! who knew?? #graphic design is NOT my passion but thatd the best i can do ashdhsgah #i love fake married case fics but like added drama of them also being like 'and this is our child' makes me go crAZY so here you go #this first chapter turned out to be 3k by accident so like who knows not me? #this is like a lot of set up and background sorry ashdhaga #THANK YOU ALISON FOR THE TOWN SUGGESTION because my dumbass couldnt think of a town #AND THANK U RUBI FOR LISTENING TO ME YELL ABOUT THIS IDEA #im not following canon really beyond cas coming back from the empty in s13 #destiel fic #baby!jack #dad!dean #dadstiel #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #sammy #bec writes #destiel #goodthingsclara #baby jack truthing

[twst-bs]

TWST Dorm Leaders and an Anxious MC

This is the first piece of written specifically for this blog!

-----

Riddle: Had they broken a rule?

Even if Riddle had improved by leaps and bounds in the anger management department, he still held his rules in high regard. And the way his brows furrowed when he looked at them from across the table, was he angry about something? He couldn’t exactly punish them - they had no magic to lock away, and they were a dorm leader in their own right, so he didn’t have any right to discipline them, but what if they had done something on a personal level? Offended him in some way? They had barely mastered social cues in their own world, what if they messed up in Twisted Wonderland? What if -

...Riddle had said something, and was clearly waiting for a reply. In their internal panic, they had missed whatever it was.

“I-I’m sorry, Riddle, I was kind of zoning out. What did you say?” Were there rules against zoning out? Probably, that seemed like something that would annoy him.

“I asked if you were alright.”

“...Huh?”

Riddle set down his tea cup - it was a pretty, delicate little thing, gilded gold along the edges and handle, with roses painted beneath the rim. His mother would be mortified if she knew he was drinking strawberry milk tea with an ungodly amount of sugar out of it, Riddle had once said with a small, almost sheepish smile. That same mouth was now downturned as he regarded them with concern in his wide gray eyes.

“You seemed to be under a lot of stress lately,” he spoke slowly, like they were a frightened animal. Maybe they were. “Is everything alright? Are you sleeping well?”

They weren’t, but that was more of a side effect of their stress than the cause of it. They idly tapped their fingers against their own tea cup, a matching one to Riddle’s. They had been drinking lavender tea in an effort to calm their nerves, but it clearly hadn’t worked.

“I’m fine, promise,” they grinned, hoping it looked convincing.

By the way Riddle’s face scrunched up, it did not.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I know I’m not the best at handling emotions, but if I can help in any way…” Riddle trailed off, looking embarrassed.

They felt their stomach twist in horror. These little tea parties were the highlight of their week, a little moment of reprieve for the both of them to just relax and enjoy each other’s company. And they had gone and ruined it because they couldn’t figure out how to human properly.

“I’m sorry!” they burst out. “I’ve been so anxious lately, and I haven’t been able to sleep, and I’m worried about my grades slipping because I don’t know the first thing about magic and -”

They didn’t even notice they were starting to spiral until Riddle had reached across the table and grasped onto their hand. Their chest was heaving with barely-contained sobs, and they weren’t sure if the trembling they felt in their hands was theirs or Riddle’s.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmured. “Deep breaths, now.”

He was parroting what Trey would tell him to help him calm down, they knew, but it was good advice. They knew that he had talked Riddle down from many an anxiety attack before, but the fact that Riddle, someone who suffered from severe mental health problems, was the one calming them down made something sour begin climbing up their throat.

“I-I’m making everything worse…” they mumbled, squeezing Riddle’s hand tighter. “I should be able to handle this without freaking out, but…”

Riddle reached out and brushed away a tear they didn’t know had fallen away with the back of his knuckle. “I know better than anyone how it feels to be under pressure.” he sighed. “Please, don’t think you have to deal with all of this stress on your own.”

Leona: “Will you sit still for five minutes?”

They hadn’t thought they had been making that much noise. Certainly not enough to wake Leona up from his nap, that was damn near impossible. So either the floorboards in Ramshackle dorm were worse than they thought, or Leona hadn’t actually been sleeping.

“Sorry,” they mumbled, staring down at the worksheet in front of them. They had been trying to finish this homework for hours, and the incantations were starting to blur together. What language were these even written in? Were they in the demonic section or nature section?

Leona sat up from where he had unceremoniously plopped himself on their bed. “You’re fidgeting like a rabbit, herbivore.”

“So you weren’t sleeping after all.”

“Hard to sleep when I can practically smell your anxiety.”

“Then go sleep somewhere else.”

Leona clicked his tongue, sounding annoyed, but they both knew he secretly enjoyed it when they got snappy with him. Not a whole lot of people had the guts to give him sass, and he liked having someone to verbally spar with. “And miss watching you squirm?”

“I’m not squirming.” they bit back.

“So that chair squeaking was just the ghosts, then?”

“Maybe.”

They could practically hear Leona roll his eyes, but they still didn’t take their eyes off of their textbook.

“Staring a hole into the page isn’t going to solve the equation.”

“How do you know?”

“Shut up and get over here.”

That made them look up. Leona had stood up, motioning them over with a tilt of his head. “You’re taking a break.”

“But -”

“You’re. Taking. A. Break.” he punctuated his words by grabbing the back of their desk chair and pulling. Just enough to jolt them, they could tell by the way the chair stopped that he was purposely holding it steady. Even so, they couldn’t help the small noise of surprise they made.

“Leona, I have to finish this!”

“You’ve been staring at the same page since I got here, you aren’t finishing anything.”

Subconsciously, they knew that taking a break would probably be good for them. But the part of their brain that was panicking about failing was telling them that if they took a break they were essentially giving up. And giving up wasn’t an option.

“Herbivore.”

The soft growl in Leona’s voice snapped them out of their thoughts. Leona had gone back over to the bed, flopped onto his back with his arms splayed out. To anyone else, it looked like he was just lazing about, but they had been with him long enough to realize that this particular position was an invitation.

It was then that they realized just how sore their neck and back were from being hunched over their desk. And how badly their eyes were burning from staring at the miniscule writing in their textbook. And how their legs and arms were one wrong move away from cramping because of how tense they had been.

...Okay, yeah, maybe a cuddle break was in order.

Leona grunted when they plopped on top of him, face buried in the crook on his neck. “Shit, herbivore, that hurt.”

“Suck it up.” they muttered, internally melting a little when he brought his arms up to wrap around them.

“Tch,” again, he sounded annoyed, but they knew better. “Learn to take better care of yourself.”

Azul: There was so much stuff to do.

Even if Crowley made sure they didn’t have to worry about money, a lot of the responsibilities of dorm upkeep still fell on them. They had to buy groceries, clean the whole dorm, make sure the place didn’t fall apart, follow Grimm around and make sure he hadn’t scorched any curtains...and that was all after they had done the assigned homework.

All things considered, they did a pretty good job, but sometimes they laid awake at night thinking of all of the things that needed to be done. Which left them in a less-than-ideal state for class the next day.

Gr-gr-grmmble…

They winced, hoping no one heard that. They had slept soundly through their alarm this morning, to the point where Grimm had to slap them awake, and therefore didn’t have time to snag breakfast. And it was really hard to focus on Trein’s droning lecture when they were both hungry and sleep-deprived.

Ace looked at them out of the corner of his eye with a raised eyebrow, but thankfully didn’t say anything. It might have been because the last time they got busted talking in class the spiel from Trein had been worse than if Riddle had just collared them, but still.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Trein dismissed the class. They still had Alchemy before they could go grab lunch, and even though mixing potentially explosive potions in their current state seemed like a terrible idea, Grimm skipped class enough. They didn’t need to add to his track record. So, feeling distinctly zombie-like, they made their way through the halls towards the alchemy lab.

Maybe they could dash by Sam’s shop really quick and grab a protein bar just to hold them over? No, Trein had yammered on until the last possible second, and they only had a few minutes before their next class started. There was no time. Maybe -

“Oof!”

“Whoa!”

Well, that’s what they got for not watching where they were going. Their books clattered to the ground as they ran headfirst into someone.

“Ah, damn, I’m sorry,” they bent down to pick up their books. Now they really were going to be late.

“Are you alright?” they looked up to see Azul stooping down to help them. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, I’m fine!” they grinned sheepishly. “Just wasn’t paying attention, is all.”

Azul frowned, picking up their Alchemy textbook before straightening. “You look exhausted. Another rough night?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Pale blue eyes widened and Azul flushed red. “I-I didn’t mean it like that!” he stammered, “I just - I merely - “ he cleared his throat, quickly recomposing his gentlemanly demeanor. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

“Relax, Azul,” they laughed, standing up from their crouched position. “I was just teasing you.”

“Must you do that in public?”

“Are you saying you like it when I tease you in private?”

“That is not what I said.”

They laughed again, reaching for their books, but Azul held them out of reach. “Hey, come on,” they pouted. “I’m going to be late.”

“Seriously, are you alright? You look kind of pale.”

They sighed. “I didn’t sleep very well last night, and then overslept this morning, so I haven’t eaten anything. Happy now?”

“Not really, no.” Azul frowned. “Come on, I’ll treat you to lunch at the lounge.”

“But I have class.”

Azul kept walking, and they had no choice but to follow considering he still had most of their books. “I’m sure Crewel will understand if you miss one class. You have an otherwise perfect track record.”

“How do you know that?” they asked. “We don’t have any classes together.”

“I have my ways.” Azul smiled cryptically at them.

“Which one of them was it?”

“Jade.”

“Knew it.”

Kalim: “...and then, there was this one time, the baby elephants broke out of their cages…”

They wanted to pay attention, they really did. Kalim was a great story-teller, even if he was a bit all over the place. And stories from a magical noble family, no matter how mundane to Kalim, were always fascinating. They could sit here and listen for hours.

Well, usually, anyway.

Nothing in particular was wrong, really. They had just woken up feeling off. It could have been anything. They could have had a weird dream, they could have forgotten something minor, the planets could be slightly unaligned, it didn’t matter. It was just an off day, and they were feeling it.

“...hello? You still in there?”

They nearly hit the ceiling when Kalim snapped his fingers in front of their face. Where they had been sitting there being anxious about trying to figure out what was making them anxious, Kalim had crawled across the floor where the two of them had been having lunch in his room. He had wanted to have a picnic on the flying carpet, but Jamil had put his foot down. Literally, he had stood on the carpet so Kalim couldn’t ride it.

“Sorry!” they yelped, almost knocking their tea over as they were forcibly brought back into the present.

“You looked kinda worried there,” Kalim frowned, quite an unusual look for him. “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” they looked down at their lap and bit their lip to stifle a gasp. While they had been worrying, they had subconsciously been picking at the skin around their fingernails. There were a couple tiny drops of blood beading up around their nail beds. Maybe Kalim wouldn’t notice?

“Hey, you’re bleeding!”

Damn.

Kalim’s expressive, ruby-red eyes went wide and he lunged forward to grab their hands. “When did that happen? How did that happen? Do you need to go to the infirmary?”

“Kalim, I’m fine, there's barely any blood.” they sighed, gently prying their hands away from him. “I do that a lot.”

“You just randomly start bleeding?!”

“No, Kalim,” they laughed softly, shaking their head. “I pick at my nails when I get anxious.”

Kalim pouted, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “You’re anxious? Why are you anxious? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, it isn’t you, I promise!” they idly swiped at their nails. The places they had picked open had already closed. “It’s just...it’s a thing. I just have anxiety in general, is all.”

Frowning, Kalim sat back down in his original spot. “Isn’t there a way to fix that?”

“There’s a few ways, but none of them are quick.” they shrugged. “I was doing better, but suddenly coming here brought back a lot of my old habits.”

“Hm…” Kalim stared at them intently before the apparent storm passed and he brightened up again. “Well, we’ll just have to get you new habits to replace the old ones!”

“I...don’t think that’s quite how that works…”

“Here!” Kalim reached down and took a bangle off of his wrist. It was gold, with an elephant charm hanging off of it. With a big, eye-closing grin, he handed it to them. “When I was little, I used to get scolded for squirming a lot, so my mom told me to play with a small toy instead of running around. I know it’s a bit different, but maybe, instead of picking at your fingers, you can play with the charm instead? Would that help?”

For a moment, they were quiet, just staring at the shiny gold bracelet in their hand. Then, a small smile split across their face. “Yeah, I think it’ll help.”

Vil: “You haven’t been sleeping.”

“Hello to you too, Vil.” they sighed, flopping unceremoniously onto the stone bench beside him. Usually they at least tried to hold themselves to a higher standard when they were with the Vil Schoenheit, but they just didn’t have the energy. “How could you tell I haven’t been sleeping?”

“Unless the undead look is a new fashion trend, but bags under your eyes are very telling.” he reached over to tuck their hair behind their ear, both in an affectionate gesture and to get it out of the way so he could assess them better. “You’re also breaking out. Are you stressed?”

“Isn’t everybody stressed?”

“Don’t get existential, just answer the question.”

They huffed, letting their head rest on the hand that was still at their ear. “Yes, okay, I’m stressed, happy?”

Students were watching the two of them on their way through the gardens, but Vil paid them no mind. He had plenty of practice at ignoring the masses. “We’ve discussed this, haven’t we? Mental health is just as important as physical health.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” they closed their eyes, unable to look at him.

“I didn’t mean that to be scolding,” this time, Vil sighed. “Just a reminder that you need to take care of yourself. Maybe a spa day is in order.”

That did sound nice. “Can we do hair masks?”

“Of course, my dear.”

Idia: “Big Brother, you have a guest!”

Idia fought the urge to groan when Ortho popped his head into the room. Why did people always have to bother him on raid night?

Just as he was about to tell Ortho to send whoever it was away, a second head appeared.

“Hey, Idia.” the Ramshackle prefect sounded drained, enough to make him type a quick “AFK” into the chat and turn to them.

“Everything...alright?”

They stepped fully into the room, returning Ortho’s cheerful wave before closing the door and collapsing face-first onto Idia’s bed. “There’s too many people out there.”

“Mood.”

“And they all want me to do stuff for them.”

“Also mood.”

“So can I hide in here for a little? Please?” they turned their head to look at him with pleading eyes. “I’ll be quiet, I know it’s raid night.”

Idia turned to glance at the screen. The team he had gotten saddled with this time around was garbo - three tanks and no healer, honestly - so he was fairly confident they weren’t finishing the dungeon. Shaking his head, he clicked a few buttons and the screen returned to his desktop.

“Bunch of losers anyway,” he mumbled, getting up from his chair. “Wanna play something else?”

“Can we play Skull Girls?”

A few moments later, they were sitting side-by-side on the bed with the opening for the game playing on one of Idia’s monitors

This was what they needed. No people besides the two of them, no lazy Headmasters asking them to take care of problems way beyond their physical and emotional capacity, no chaotic cats threatening to light everything on fire. Just a nice little break.

Slowly, careful, so as not to startle him, they leaned over until their head was resting on his shoulder. He tensed, but his hair didn’t turn red, so they counted that as progress.

“Thanks, Idia.”

“N-N-No problem.”

Malleus: Okay, so this probably hadn’t been one of their better ideas.

Sleep just wasn’t happening tonight. All of the things they had to worry about kept running through their head, and every time they thought they were about to drop off, something else popped up. Eventually, they had given up and decided to take a walk.

Unfortunately, they had completely forgotten how cold it could get at night. Even with the jacket they had pulled on over their pajamas, they were shivering.

“You’re up late.”

The deep voice startled them, but they managed to compose themselves before turning around. “So are you, Tsunotarou.”

Malleus Draconia smiled softly at the nickname, looking absolutely ethereal with the small green lights flitting around him. “It’s dangerous to be out alone at night, Child of Man.”

“The gargoyles will protect me.” they said cheekily. Malleus chuckled.

“And what of me?” he asked. “Do I not get the honor of protecting you?”

“You can fight the gargoyles for the honor.”

Again, Malleus laughed, before noticing the subtle tremors that wracked the human’s body. “You’re cold.”

“This wasn’t my best-laid plan.” they sighed, tugging their jacket closer to their body. “I always forget how cold it is at night.”

Malleus hummed before opening his arms. “Come here, then. I’ll keep you warm.”

They hesitated for a moment before stepping into his embrace, sighing as his body heat seeped into their being. “Wow, you really are warm.”

“Dragons run hotter than humans,” he explained, tugging their head beneath his chin. “It’s why I have no trouble roaming around at night.”

“Lucky.”

“Well,” he murmured. “I’ll simply have to accompany you on your nighttime adventures to keep you warm.”

#twisted wonderland #disney's twisted wonderland #twst riddle #twst leona #twst azul #twst kalim #twst vil #twst idia #twst malleos

[riddleblack246]

For @scoobydean and @destielsecretsanta2020

“This could be nice for Jack.”

“’My First Christmas’. Cas, this is meant for babies.”

“It’s still his first Christmas with us.”

“That mean we should get one for you too?”

“If you’d like.”

Read below for some Team Free Will 3.0 holiday head canons~!

After everything goes down with Jack makes use of his new abilities, Sam and Dean are much more willing to fight to keep him with them. He initially wonders if it is because he’s “useful” to them now. The brothers promptly inform him that no, it’s because this is the first time where they can all feel safe enough to take a breath. Sure, they’re still hunters. But after everything they’ve been through, they all deserve a chance to enjoy life without constantly looking over their shoulders. And so Jack stays.

As promised, he brought back those that were loved and lost. Obviously everyone is relieved and thankful, but that is most clearly seen in the return of Eileen and Castiel. Sam and Eileen are quick to pick up where they left off. Castiel, however, is a bit more hesitant. He didn’t expect to ever see Dean again. He truly thought he wouldn’t have to know Dean’s feelings and when he confessed, he felt he could live with that. But now he’s suddenly back in this world, aware of his existence and the knowledge that he told the man he’d been in love with for over a decade how he felt. But Dean doesn’t allow him to panic for long. Enveloping Cas in his arms, he’s squeezing the angel’s vessel so tightly that he can barely get out the words. Nonetheless, he does and finally returns the sentiment that Castiel never expected to hear.

“I love you too, Cas.”

And now to dig into holiday centric joys!

By the time Christmas rolls around, the bunker’s primary couples have developed a sense of routine. Eileen has finally moved in and Dean and Castiel have eased into a comfortable romantic domesticity. And for the first time in a while, there are no hunts to investigate or major threats to take on, and the Winchesters found themselves able to celebrate the holidays in a way that they hadn’t had a chance to in some time (save for the Mrs. Butters stint).

On the first of December, Dean sits down in the library and begins to make a list, trying to figure out exactly what was expected of a traditional Christmas. When Sam catches him, he expects scoffs of disagreement or just bored indifference. Instead, he supplies the idea of inviting some people to the bunker.

“What, Sammy? You want to throw a Christmas rager?” (The statement does earn him an eye roll)

“No. I just thought it might be nice. See everyone together.”

Neither of them explicitly say why it would be nice, but they know the relief that would come with seeing each person they never expected to see again. Dean tasks his brother with making a guest list and sending out an e-mail to those on it (because Dean draws the line at trying to make actual invitations).

The response is overwhelmingly positive and soon enough, they’re fielding constant texts from Garth, asking if it would be okay to bring his kids, and e-mails from Donna, offering to bake a multitude of requested holiday treats. 

Amidst holiday planning, the group allows themselves to give into expectations of the season. Jack and Castiel are largely in the dark of what is or isn’t part of the holidays and while Dean, Sam, and Eileen aren’t the most immersed, they do have an idea of what is to be done and are admittedly eager to dive in.

One of the first things on Dean’s list is to decorate a tree. He even insists on cutting one down himself, as aside from various times he had to cut and sharpen his own stakes, it’s something he’s never had a chance to do. Sam, reluctant to join him, tells his brother to have fun. In the spirit of “giving”, Dean bring Cas and Jack along, assuring Sam and Eileen that they’ll “be a while ;)”. They return some hours later with a tree that rivals the Rockefeller Center and relief in the fact that they have two celestial beings to transport something of that size. Decorating it is another story.

After digging through the bunker and finding that, no, the Men of Letters did not hoard Christmas ornaments or wreaths or any such things among their piles of artifacts and cursed objects, the groups decides to get a little shopping done. They initially hit a big box store for a bunch of basics - lights, tinsel, various colored balls (Dean makes several jokes about this), but as the month goes on, all of them are guilty of picking up random items to decorate with while out.

Eileen delightedly shows her boys a Christmas pyramid she bought and is quick to tell Jack that he can’t light it whenever he wants, as forgetting about it could result in burning down the bunker.

Sam buys all of them advent calendars, each dedicated specifically to every member of the bunker. Dean doesn’t comment on Sam’s shift toward the holiday spirit, not only because he’s happy that his brother has allowed himself to be more joyfully invested in things, but also because every day for the month he gets to appreciate a new and weird specialty bottle of hot sauce. Sam’s own contains different types of tea, Eileen’s has jam, Jack’s has little LEGO figures, and Castiel’s has coffee.

Jack nearly gives Dean a heart attack one morning when the man wakes up to find a nutcracker as tall as he is in the crow’s nest. Jack tells him all about finding it in a shop he and Castiel passed when getting supplies and insisting that it was a perfect thing to have for the bunker. Dean looks to Castiel and knows the angel would have been too soft to say no. Then again, he knows he would have been just as guilty.

Castiel begins buying ornaments for people in the bunker. Even with Dean teasing him about it, he does buy a “my first Christmas” ornament and puts a photo of Jack inside that Eileen helped him print out. He finds that he is particularly fond of ornaments that contain photos and begins to buy ones for that explicit purpose.

Dean doesn’t necessarily have a type of decoration that he finds himself buying outside of what they have, but he is fond of the lights. He usually insists they stay on as long as allotted, urging whoever is the last to go to bed to turn them off (though it’s usually himself).

When it does snow, Dean is eventually irritable about it with Sam and Eileen in a similar boat, though to a lesser degree. Shoveling snow out of the way of the bunker’s entrance is a pain in the ass and none of them love the chore of getting treads on their respective tires. But seeing Jack’s fascination with it - and realizing that it’s his first time encountering snow, they find themselves softening.

After getting help in clearing access to the bunker, the group spends much of the day outside. There is an unspoken agreement that they want Jack to experience all the great enjoyments of snow and it honestly brings out the kid in them too. They build a mediocre snowman (Sam takes the heat for his poor artistic skills), make snow angels (the jokes about Castiel doing so get old within five minutes), have a snowball fight (Eileen is fucking ruthless and not above putting snow down jackets), and creating makeshift sleds to race. The sledding is what ultimately makes them go back inside. Garbage can lids are hard to steer and after Dean eats it by running into a tree and loosing a tooth, even Cas fixing it doesn’t resolve the choice to go in. Nonetheless, the accident doesn’t stall the mood, as Dean insists on introducing Jack to one more awesome component of the Traditional Snow Day - the hot chocolate at the end. Said hot cocoa almost results in a fight when, after Dean makes enough for all of them, Castiel reluctantly admits that he doesn’t care for it, and Dean and Jack nearly come to childish blows over who gets his mug. Later that evening, Castiel makes sure to thank Dean privately for allowing Jack to have it. ;)

Now, when it comes to cooking, Dean likes to consider himself pretty well-versed. Baking is another story. The preciseness that’s required is what gets him. Sure, he can be meticulous, but he’s always been more of a “little of this, a bunch of that” kind of guy over exact measurements, which leaves a lot more room for error when it comes to baking. But after going on a “Gilmore Girls” binge with Castiel (the couple constantly debates the superior show of the former and “Dr. Sexy, M.D.”), he can’t help imagining a scene of tenderly showing Cas how to roll out dough and mussing some flour in his hair and watching the angel lick the spoon in a way that borders on pornographic. The day after watching, he’s searching for cookie recipes and telling Castiel to dig out some aprons.

As is the Winchester way, this expectation does not come to fruition. Cas, as he thought, didn’t know a thing about cooking or baking. But Dean pictured being able to guide him, to do all the romantic shit you see in Hallmark movies. Instead, the angel is complaining about not being able to just will the baked goods into existence, standing in the way when Dean needs to get any kind of ingredient, and getting flour on every fucking surface in the kitchen. Things reach a boiling point when Cas pulls the cookies out of the oven, sans oven mitts, and for a brief moment, Dean’s brain operates on a panic reflex and snatches the tray from his hands. The result is their hours of baking scattered all over the floor, a dented baking sheet, and second-degree burns on the hunter’s hands. He’s huffing and cursing and he fully expects Cas to scold him and point out the obvious fact that he’s an angel and such temperatures have no effect on him. But instead, he watched Castiel pulled his hands from the faucet (having immediately shoved them under there after he burned himself) and tenderly brushes his finger tips over the wounds. Dean feels the familiar sensation of healing flesh, something he hasn’t felt in a bit and he’s silent as Cas brings the newly healed skin to his lips and presses a kiss to his palms. The irritability baking had brought them is gone. Dean lets Cas wave the kitchen clean and they decide to just go out and buy Christmas cookies instead. Later that evening, Cas’ lips taste like ginger and Dean finds that the reality is way better than the fantasy.

They ultimately end up hosting the party that started their shift into the Christmas spirit a few days before the actual holiday. After all, they know most of their friends prefer flying over driving and it might be a lot to ask them to come out on the actual holiday. But their concerns of traffic and irritated guests soon fly out the window in the face of so many familiar… well, faces. Hugs never stop coming and despite everyone’s claim that gifts would not be necessary, everyone knows that’s bullshit and a pile beneath their ridiculous tree grows with every teasing comment and expression of happy holidays.

Speaking of the tree, Castiel is quite pleased with his holiday crafting and the other members of the bunker share that sentiment. Since the angel discovered the photo-insert ornaments, he had taken it upon himself to spend random periods during the month finding photographs of each important person in their lives that he could and putting them into such items. Everyone takes joy in searching for their own picture. Claire comments that he picked a terrible one of her, but Cas hears her quietly asking Dean if she could take it home with her, as it features her and Kaia pressed close in a hug. Charlie adores her’s and insists that she wants to make the same craft, but only if they do it together. Everyone quietly appreciates the ones made for those that aren’t present to appreciate them. Jack ensures that Mary’s ornament has prime placement. Eileen hugs Sam when she catches him looking at Kevin’s for a while. Dean makes a point to kiss Castiel privately after finding Bobby’s nestled among some tinsel. Everyone agrees that their the best decorations in the place.

Hunters and those that know them have never been known to operate on a normal schedule, so it is nearly three in the morning before the bunker clears out. Some have elected to drive home if the trip was relatively easy. Others have settled into the many spare rooms that the bunker holds. Once all the gifts have been opened, the eggnog’s been drunk, and everyone has eaten their weight in treats, only Dean and Cas remain in the quiet bunker. They sit together in the library, positioned on one of the many extended seats they’d brought out to fit their guests. The lights of the enormous tree are still on at Dean’s request and Castiel can’t help staring at the way the different colors still look so beautiful on him. He glances up at the other decorations strewn about. The bows, the poinsettias (Garth had brought something like ten of them), the holly, the- He spots a familiar item of decor. He’d seen Sam and Eileen equally position themselves under it in wait of their partner, always stopping them with the insistence that a kiss must be administered before they continue on their way about the bunker. Lazily, he nudges Dean and points to the archways between the crow’s nest and the hall that leads to the bedrooms.

“Is standing beneath that a requirement for kissing?”

Dean follows his finger and huff out a laugh. Even though they hadn’t been dating long, they’d been together for so many years that he knows the angel is teasing. He turns to meet his eyes, smiling at the way the lights almost change them from blue to a rainbow of color.

“What, you want to kiss under the mistletoe? Now?”

For a moment, it seems as if he’s considering the offer. But instead, he shakes his head and reaches a hand up to cup Dean’s cheek. He knows that he could have kiss Dean under there the same way Eileen and Sam do. But he knows they’re different. Dean is a lot of thing and as much as he would deny it, one of those things is private. Their relationship is simultaneously new and so so ingrained into their life. Affection was always something there, just beneath the surface. And while he had the thing he desired for so long, that doesn’t mean he feels the need to push Dean into a realm of affection that just isn’t fitting of who they are together. Leaning forward, he captures Dean’s lips in a kiss. He tastes like eggnog and candy cane.

Castiel understands all the more that happiness is in the being. And he no longer fears his joy. Because he can’t imagine being happier than holding Dean beneath these lights and knowing that they still have tomorrow and so many days to come. There is no better present than that.

#destielsecretsanta2020 #scoobydean #supernatural #Destiel #saileen #saleen #jack kline #my posts

[imkylotrash]

Fight Song

Pairing: Saul Silva x daugher!reader, Sky x sister!reader

Requests: Being Saul's daughter and you get stuck somewhere when the burned ones get in the school and saul and sky are beyond worried about her. Anonymous And Could you do a sky sister one where during the burned ones attack she gets separated from the group of students causing sky and saul to worry and she ends up like bloom and helps defeat them. @unknowntoyou2205​

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @artsyle @baueoud @glowingatdawn @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @estelmei @quarterback-5 @quuenofblacks @alexiapayne12 @lflores2008​ @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @shadowhuntyi 

You’re wearing headphones when the alarm rings that signals for everyone to gather in the dining hall. The music is playing too loud for you to hear the siren and unfortunately, you’re all alone in the library meaning no one can tell you to get your ass out of there. When you don’t come to the dining hall, Saul and Sky start to worry. The doors are getting barricaded quickly and soon you’ll have no chance to get inside. 

“Do we go look for her?” Sky asks clearly worried about the girl he considers his sister. Saul shakes his head knowing that he can’t leave all of these students in danger to go look for one. He is a soldier at heart and so are you. As much as he worries, he has no doubt you’ll be able to make it. 

“I’ve taught her everything I know. She’ll make it,” Saul replies hoping more than anything that he’s right. And he is right. You fight off the Burned One saving Sam’s life as a result. Not entirely since the monster managed to get away, but it’ll buy him time. You bring him to the dining hall unnoticed and slips out again. You heard the girls trapped up in their suite and there’s no way you’re leaving them there when there are Burned Ones walking around the school. 

“How many are in here?” you ask through the door so that you can make a plan. Too many students will be too big of a risk to move at one time. Luckily, you can all move together with you in the front preparing for anything and everything. You know there’s at least one Burned One roaming the hallways and you’d very much like to avoid it. 

“In here,” you whisper leading them through one of the lesser known entrances to the dining hall. You make a mental note to barricade the door later on but it comes in handy when Bloom sneaks out to face the Burned Ones on her own. 

“Have you seen Bloom?” Aisha asks while you’re distracted looking for Saul or Sky. You have to know that they’re okay and let them know that you’re good. 

“She was here a second ago,” you say finally spotting Saul over by a group of young specialists in training. 

“I think she went outside,” Aisha says and immediately she gets your full attention. 

“She did what?” you ask hoping you heard wrong. You just risked your life bringing the girls to safety and this is what she does to repay you?

“They’re after her. She’s drawing them away from the school.” If the Burned Ones doesn’t kill Bloom, you’d personally like the honour of doing it. Why does she have this need to play the martyr instead of letting the adults deal with it?

“I need you to find Saul and Sky and let them know I’m alright. Don’t tell them I went after Bloom. Hopefully, I can bring her back without no one noticing.” You head outside already regretting that you didn’t talk to your family first. Aisha tries to convey the message but there’s so much yelling and panic in the dining hall that it never reaches them. The pair continues to worry for your safety to the point where Saul has to stop Sky from going to look for you. 

“It’ll do no good if we’re all in danger. She’s probably hiding somewhere.” What he doesn’t tell Sky is that he can’t risk losing you both. He can hardly face his own reflection as it is not going after you himself but he knows he’s right. Going after you would only jeopardise everyone involved including you. At least, it would if you truly were hiding somewhere. Of course, they don’t know that you’re running straight towards the monsters who are ready to kill everyone getting in their way. 

“Bloom,” you call out when you finally spot her out on the field. It’s too late though. You hear them long before you see them. They’re not even trying to hide their presence anymore. 

“We have to fight, okay. There’s not time to run.” You take a deep breath knowing that right now there aren’t exactly a lot of positive feelings running through your body. 

“You know what to do,” you say hoping that Rosalind’s lessons have at least been worth all of this shit. 

“Aim for the middle,” Bloom says gritting her teeth. At least, she’s smart enough not to question what you’re doing out here wasting time. They’re getting closer and for the first time tonight, you’re actually worried if you’re going to see your family again. You’ve never killed a Burned One before but out of all the fairies, you’re thinking a fire fairy and a light fairy are the best option when it comes to fighting these creatures. 

“Oh my God,” you whisper seeing Bloom transform herself into a true fairy with wings and everything. It hasn’t been seen for centuries. You’re even more surprised when you feel the sensation on your own back. Wings! They burn yellow matching your powers the same way Bloom has sprouted red wings to match her fire magic. 

“Let’s do this.” They come at you all at the same time but they’re no match for you. Both you and Bloom kill several Burned Ones within the first five minutes. What troubles you are seeing them turn back into human beings once they die. You know you’re not taking an innocent life but it feels wrong to see the bodies lying there like that. It doesn’t stop you though. Survival mode has kicked in and you’re not giving up now. You have a family that you’d very much like to see again. 

You have no idea how long it continues but at some point, the Burned Ones stop coming. Slowly, you both return to the ground and your wings fade. 

“That was pretty awesome, I’m not going to lie.” You can’t help but smile a little. Not only have you killed the Burned Ones threatening the school, you also got your wings. They must know that the danger is over because the students start streaming outside and then you spot them at last. 

“Dad!” You sprint over bringing both Saul and Sky in for a hug. You can’t breathe with how tight they’re hugging you but it doesn’t matter. You’re just happy that you all made it. 

“You don’t get to do that again. Next time you come straight to me!” He’s trying to be strict but you know it’s just the nerves affecting him.

“Yes sir.” You can’t stop yourself from laughing as you hug them once more. It seems impossible that you all made it out alive but you’re so thankful that you did. 

#winx saul silva #saul silva blurb #saul silva imagine #saul silva #winx sky #sky blurb #sky imagine #sky #fate the winx saga #fate winx club #fate the winx club #winx saga #winx club #fate winx #fate

[sweetsubharry]

Do you know of any good Larry fics where one of them is in a abusive relationship and the other saves them from it? Thanks!

I do! 

I want to say though; I went through a rough time in my life and it was definitely a coping mechanism for me to read stories like this, so considering the severity of the topic I just wanted to make it extra clear that everyone should read the tags please! <3 if it will not benefit you to read these, please don’t! I can make you a fluffy no hurt comfort request if needed!

HERE is a list for a lot of useful helplines for different areas and reasons!! xx and I’m here if anyone has any raised queries from this :)

once again, please read the tags and stay safe everyone!  💖

These are not in any order but I will say the first five are ones I still often think about, they definitely leave an impression and rebuilt my soul in different ways x

run through rivers and smile by bravestyles 

Harry is stuck in a long-term abusive relationship with his abusive boyfriend Sam. His friends try to help him out of it; along the way, Louis and Harry become closer.

breathe into me and make me real by greeneyedstranger

Harry's fading away, bit by bit everyday, and all he can feel is numb. He finds Louis, who's like sunshine, bright and glowing, and smells like red velvet cupcakes and whipped cream.

Petrichor by spotofpurple

Harry is a filthy rich, straight A student that lives in one of the biggest mansions in London with his father. He is also bullied and beaten in school and neglected at home.Louis is a quirky punk who owns a bookshop and sings in a rock band. He is also providing a cover for the two of the most wanted of London’s criminals, Zayn and Niall.When Harry has a panic attack in front of Louis’ bookshop and the older boy helps him, a weird friendship is formed. And soon developed into something neither of the boys expected.

Give Me Truths by iwillpaintasongforlou

'Just like a little cat,' Louis thought later, as he drifted off to sleep. 'A little kitten with his claws sunk right into me.' It isn’t that terrible of a thought, after all. ............. Louis is a psychology student with a tattoo count as high as his genius IQ. Harry is in a (sort-of) relationship with a homophobic man and hates himself a little more every day. Things fall apart and Louis puts him back together.

Or, the one in which Louis falls in love with a fragile boy and tells him every beautiful truth in the world, as long as it makes him happy.

Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12

Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

It's A Start by Magiic_Shop

“This is dangerous, love,” Louis smirked, his lips pressed against Harry’s shoulder blade.

“Why’s that?” Harry asked.

“Because,” Louis’ smirk grew into a smile, “I might never want to let you go.”

Harry shifted against Louis, reaching up to cover Louis’ hand on his stomach with his own, “Then don’t.”

--

Or, the one where Harry can't sleep at night, and because of that, neither can Louis. Louis thinks it could be the start of something.

There is a Rose That I Want to Live For by Yourfavouritechild

How long has the sun been gone from his life. When did the sky fall down. When did the air become so heavy, wrapping around Harry, forcing him to collapse like an old star.

or, Trapped in an abusive relationship, Harry contemplates suicide until a punk rocker enters his life and pulls him up before he drowns.

keep me safe inside your arms by stylinson

When Louis first noticed it he thought nothing much of it, because Harry was just an all-around sweet and caring person, and it made him fall even more in love with him...until it got to a point where Louis realized that Harry was almost too eager to do what he was asked.

You are a lovely adjective, no word ever enough by angelichl

"I love you, Louis thinks now, feeling the words on the tip of his tongue. Willing them to spill out. But he knows that if he spills these treacherous thoughts out loud, Harry will panic. Maybe he'll even run away, like he ran away form The Monster.

I love you, Louis wants to tell him anyway. Wants to whisper it into his hair, kiss it onto his cheekbones, breathe it down his throat.

Instead he chews on his nail and says nothing."

The hurt/comfort AU in which Harry leaves away an abusive relationship, and Louis offers to share his flat

love is so good when the love is young by drunkonyou

Louis falls for his pregnant best friend who has a bit of baggage. They make it work though.

Hideaway. by arrowtomyheart

Harry is in a borderline abusive relationship which ends after the news that Harry's pregnant. He is homeless for the night and travels 3 hours on the train to turn up at his best friend's Liam's house unexpectedly for somewhere to stay. He meets Louis, Liam's flatmate, and they discover that they have more in common that anyone would expect. They fall in love.

It's the Sun In Your Eyes by Bearandleonardwrite

Harry's not the best with relationships. Then he finds Louis.

(Basically; Harry's insecure and hurt, but Louis loves him anyways and knows how to help.)

Shine Like Silver by asphodelknox

Sometimes what you never thought you needed is exactly what you need. Sometimes it's right in front of you. Harry find love when he's broken and abandoned, in the one place he never thought to look. Although once he figures it out, he's really not surprised.

on a wednesday, in a cafe by wreckedboyfriends

“What can I get for you today?” he asked without looking up, arranging the last of the pastries.

“Have any recommendations? Never been here before, actually.” Harry hit his head on the top of the case in his haste to look at the source of the voice. It was a really beautiful voice, small and high and just lovely, if a voice could be lovely. Harry thought so. “Alright, mate?” the man asked when Harry finally composed himself, rubbing the top of his head as he took his place at the register.

Harry opened his eyes, and fuck. If Harry had thought his voice was lovely, the man himself was on a whole other level. “Alright, mate?” He repeated and shit. Harry had been openly staring for quite awhile, hadn’t he?

“Yeah,” Harry replied, and it came out sounding like a semi trailer running over gravel. He cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he repeated. “Um, the cherry danish is quite good, I think. ’S my favorite.”

The man smiled. “One cherry danish it is, then.”

OR Harry’s spent the last year with six locks on his door, a pair of too-flamboyant boots buried in the back of his closet, and insecurity issues the size of a mammoth. Louis changes some of that, but Harry changes the most.

drain the whole sea by brainwaves

For a great chunk of his life, Harry has had a passion for writing, a passion that turned into an aspiration, which turned into a dream he’s been chasing for the past few years, first in the States and now in a shitty flat in London. None of his attempts to get anywhere have succeeded, leaving him with weary bones and two dead-end jobs that he doesn’t enjoy in the slightest. When he finds an unusual yet promising opportunity that could possibly get him somewhere and help him further his current failure of a writing career, he doesn’t hesitate to take it. Despite his boyfriend Sam’s pleading, he lets this dream bring him to the luxurious yet quaint home of world-renowned, best-selling author Louis Tomlinson.

love is blind (it will take over your mind) by babygrxxt

a story in which louis moved to paris to get away and is now working a nine to five job he hates, niall can’t speak french, zayn is so far gone for a boy he doesn’t even know and the pink of harry’s lips stands out even more against the purple of a bruise

Stop Making Tired Excuses by midnightskies

Louis hates many things; cold tea, countdown, tuesdays, and university, but most of all he absolutely, categorically despises Eric Davidson, current boyfriend of Harry Styles.

Keep Me From Falling Apart by sweetly_disposed

Harry shrugs, nicking a biscuit from the tin on the table. "Here." He holds out the styrofoam cup he's carrying. "Hot chocolate, double whipped cream." "Oh my god. You're perfect," Louis moans, taking it from him and sniffing it appreciatively. Harry blushes and stuffs the rest of the biscuit in his mouth to stop him from saying something totally ridiculous like 'you're perfect, too'.

Or, Harry doesn't think he needs help, until there's Louis.

Blue Eyes Like Blue Skies by sunflowerstyles

Harry's last relationship was horrific, leaving him with physical and mental scars. Louis comes into his life and does his best to treat Harry how he deserves.

#abuse tw #abuse cw #ask lots #suicide tw #suicide cw #Larry Stylinson #Lottie fic rec #I hate that intro I hate bringing myself up in a rec but I felt I had to say it #<3

[daydreamingintheimpalax]

Four No’s and a Yes.

Prompt: Write about someone who gets proposed to five times on Christmas Eve.

Warnings: None, cuteness, fluff i guess lol

Dean x Reader (Childhood friends)

Chritsmas Eve 2016.

The Y/L/N’s house was decorated to the T, Mrs. Y/L/N always went all out for Christmas and to say Dean loved it was an understatement. Dean had grown up next door to y/n and her family all his life, every Christmas was spent with his best friend and her family, their families took turns every year on which family would host the big Christmas dinner. It was Christmas eve, this year, Y/n’s family was hosting Christmas Eve and Day. 

He watched as you sat down across from him, the same way you did every year, this time your boyfriend of almost a year sitting next to you. Dean frowned but for the most part accepted him and tried to make Carl as welcome as possible. 

It’s not that he disliked the guys she dated, he just never thought they were good enough for his best friend, it had nothing to do with the fact he’d been inlove wih you almost all his life, despite what Sam and his parents had to say about it. 

The meal conversations began, Dean smiled as he watched Sam’s wife wipe a smudge of food off his brothers face before then placing a small peck on his cheek. He was imsensely happy for his little brother, he had tried to find love himself but despite all the girls that came and went, none were ever good enough to bring home to Mary and John, none ever compared to, well, you. 

“So Dee, any news about that girl you took out last week? She seemed nice.” You ask, shoving a fork of ham into your mouth, he chuckles watching before he replies, “uh no, didn’t pan out, first date and she was already naming our kids.” He shakes his head, cringing. Y/N makes a funny grossed out face, “Yikes, stage 5 clinger”, Dean smirks, “Exactly, not my style, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” Carl pipes up, raising an eyebrow at Dean. Right, Carl hated when Dean called you by a pet name, sucks for him doesn’t it. Dean shrugs, y/n reassures him its just for fun, that they’ve been friends forever and Dean’s the only other man allowed to call her that. Carl doesn’t seem happy but strugs it off. 

It’s almost 9 Pm when Carl speaks, he stands up from the tables, everyone having had a few rounds of wine by now and 50 conversations going on at once. He clears his troat, tapping his champagne glass with his fork, everyone stops, their attention on him. 

“Well, this has been an amazing night, y/n your family is incredible, i’m so happy to have shared this holiday with you all, but tonight, i want to share another moment with you guys, i know how important family is to y/n and i want to make sure i do this right.” He pauses, grabbing y/n’s hand and pulling her up, Dean can see the look on her face, shes shocked and confused, not sure what the hell Carl thinks he’s doing. 

He pulls something out of his pocket, Dean lets out a soft groan before taking a huge chug of his beer, Sam pats his back, a silent signal asking if he’s okay. He shrugs it off. 

“Y/n, i know we haven’t been together as long as other people, but my love for you has no limits, we are a perfect match and you’re a perfect part of me, you make me better, i love you so much, and i don’t want to waste anymore time,” 

He gets down on one knee, Dean watches, slightly angrily as y/n gasps, she slightly looks at Dean and he can see the panicked look on her face, she’s not ready for this, he’s ambushed her. 

“Y/n Y/l/n, would you do me the honor of being my wife, my partner in crime, my forever.” Dean rolls his eyes, his mother swatting his arm and giving him a disapproving look. Y/n stays silent, looking around as everyone watches her, Then, she bolts. 

Dean chases after her to see if she’s okay. 

Carl was never seen again after that night.

Christmas Eve 2017

Christmas was different this year, Their parents had decided they wanted a break from cooking, so they had booked a cruise for vacation, not telling any of their kids until last minute. 

Sam and Jess had decided to have Christmas with her family now that they were expecting their first child. Sam was over the moon at the chance to be a dad, he was going to be an amazing one. 

Dean checks the tickets, finding the seats and throwing the jackets over them, y/n heads towards him, sitting next to him in her own seat and she hands him his beer and the hotdogs she grabbed. Dean was lucky he booked last minute tickets to the wrestling match, not surprised that even on Christmas eve, the stadium was booked solid. 

They enjoy the fights, they’re small local fights, no big names, but they both enjoy it, laughing and enjoying their time together as best friends, it’s been a while. Since she started dating Max four months ago, he barely sees her, he’s insecure, especially when Dean’s around, probably because Dean’s twice his size in height and muscle, but that’s not his problem. Max starts fights with y/n anytime they hang out, so for her sake, he keeps his distance, waiting for her to call him for a hangout instead. 

An hour in and it’s break time, they sit and chat, and before they know it, a voice is speaking over the PA system. “Sorry to interupt everyone, but since we are on a break, it seems like the perfect time to do this. Y/n Y/l/N, if you wouldn’t mind looking up at the jumbotron, we have a message for you from Max.” 

Y/n’s eyes go wide, she looks at Dean curiously and he shrugs, just as confused. She looks at the screen, Max’s smiling face on the screen as he’s handed the microphone. 

“Y/n, i know this is random and out of the blue, but you make me really happy, i know you’re not big on attention and big romantic gestures, but i wanted to do something memorable, so, i was hoping you’d be down for being my wife, will you Marry me?” he speaks, Dean almost can’t believe it, what was with these losers, she deserved to be proposed to, but not so soon and definitely not on the spot, she hated grand gestures that drew attention to her. Y/n barely knew what she wanted to do with her life, let alone to settle down. 

Y/N starts breathing heavy, tears forming as she starts to panic at the whole stadium now staring at her and waiting for her answer, and just like that, yet again, she tries to run but Dean stops her, suggesting they go outside and talk to Max privately before she has a complete anxiety attack.

Another douchebag he never sees again. 

Christmas Eve 2018

Another year, another Christmas Eve, y/n is sitting on Deans couch, the two of them got stuck at the airport due to a snow storm and aren’t making it home for Christmas. They had driven back to Dean’s place and she decided to crash with him, She’d just broken up with her recent douchebag boyfriend and wasn’t in happy spirits. She lies on his couch, sniffling as she watches her favoirte Christmas movie, which is currently everything on the hallmark channel. 

Dean sits next to her, her feet in his lap as he messages her feet, warming them up from the cold. 

“Am i ever going to find the right guy? i mean, at this point it’s become a pattern, every fucking Christmas i end up single and alone, i should just give up finding the perfect guy.” She shrugs, wiping away a stray tear.

Dean sighs, “First off, you’re not alone, you have me. Second, you pick crappy guys, you have shitty ass taste. Give it time, sweetheart, the perfect guy for you is out there, and you’ll find him, you’re just looking in the wrong places.” Dean assures her and she gives him a dry chuckle.

“Oh yea, well if you ever come across prince charming, send him my way.” She rolls her eyes and he laughs. He hates seeing her upset. 

Theyre at the local skating rink when it happens, he finally got her to stop crying enough to take her out and here comes Jack, Jake, Joke, whatever the fuck his name was holding a bouquet of roses and a ring box, smiling widely at her, this jackass really thinks a ring will fix everything he’s done to her. What a damn clown. 

Y/n stops abrutly, eyeing him up and down, she’s definitely angry still. 

“That better not be what the fuck i think it is.” She snaps, tossing the roses in the trash. “Y/n, i know i fucked up, but you’re worth more than-” He’s cut off by the sound of her hand meeting his cheek. 

“NO!” She shouts, a few people now stopping to watch. “You have some NERVE showing up here, after cheating on me and for what? to propose? ARE YOU FUCKING DRUNK? In what fucking small minded universe that you live in do you think proposing to me is going to fix what you broke? No, i will not marry you. Go to hell, Jeff.” She stomps off, as good as she can in skates. 

Jeff, that’s his fucking name. He looks over at me and i shrug. “You fucked that up on your own man, you don’t deserve her.” Dean walks away.

She never mentions Jeff again.

Christmas Eve 2019

Their families get together again, Dean’s family hosts this year, y/n and he had flown home early this year to help with the food and decorations, y/n had run into one of her exes, a guy she dated back in highschool, He’d ran in Sam’s circle of friends, one of his old football buddies. They had gone on a date to catch up, ending up at the local bar with some old highschool friends.

Sam sits next to him, downing his own beer. “Man, why don’t you just tell her you’re her prince charming, watching her get with and dump all these idiots is getting tiring. Even mom and dad know you two belong together.” Sam chuckles, letting out a burp, he’s clearly borderlining between drunk and tipsy. Dean sighs, he’s going to have to call Jessica soon. 

“If i was her soulmate, she’d have noticed by now. I’m not going to make that choice for her. If it’s meant to be, she’ll realize it on her own, not because i forced her to like me.” He shrugs and Sam laughs, “You’re both so stupid.” Sam huffs and shakes his head. 

Before Sam can continue pestering him about his failure to woo Y/n, they hear a commotion, they turn to see Eric covered in beer, calling y/n a bitch and some other not nice words. 

Dean gets protective, not even a split second before he’s standing next to her, shoving Eric away from her. “Easy man, get away from her.” He yells and Eric huffs, throwing his arms in the air, “Whatever, you’re a waste of time, can’t believe i ever dated you, i forgot what it was like being with you.” He snarls before stepping outside, no doubt to light up another blunt. 

Dean frowns, “What happened?” he asks and you laugh. “He proposed, said he missed me and regretted ever breaking things off, said he finally realized i was the one that got away.” She airquotes before she sips her beer, huffing, “Turns out, that’s his game, he was hoping if i said yes i’d be over the moon and jump into bed with him again. Ugh, i hate men.” she grunts before walking out, Dean slaps a few bills on her table before going after her, a semi drunk Sam at his side. 

Chritmas Eve 2020

Christmas Eve dinner is a hit. Changing things up, Dean and Y/n had decided to host this year, flying their families out to vancouver. It’s cold and snowy, but makes Christmas actually feel like Christmas, unlike the warm sunny holiday in california, they love it there, but this year, with the snow, it actually feels like a real Christmas. 

They sit out on the back deck, taking a break from the family game night and friendly comeptition and yelling going on inside. Their families are nuts, but it always makes for a great time. 

Dean’s sure he’s ready, she hasn’t dated anyone since the last proposal, and he’s insane, he’s sure of it, he’s sure just like the others, he’ll be turned down, and he’s willing to make an utter fool of himself, but it’s time, he’s waited long enough, he needs her to know, he needs to tell her, he’ll never be able to truly move on and get over her if he doesn’t at least get an answer on wether she feels the same. 

“How long do you think that bingo game is going to last?” She asks, chuckling and she watches their families fight over who had bingo first. 

“Marry me.” He blurts it out without even realizing it. That’s not how he wanted that whole thing to go, he had planned it out, but plans go out the window when you spend time obsessing on things being perfect.

“What?” She’s stunned, but she hasn’t run away yet, and she’s not hyperventilating, that’s a good sign. He begins to babble like a damn idiot.

“I don’t have a ring, or a proper set up like a jumbotron or some shit, and this isn’t even how i planned on this day going, i’m not perfect, and i have my flaws, hell i’m so fucked up i’d be insane to think i even deserve even half your love, but i’m crazy about you, and i have been since 5th grade, when you gave me my first valentines card because no one in class gave me one and then kissed my cheek and told me you’d always be my valentine. I guess, what i’m trying to say is i may not be your prince charming, but you’ve always been my girl, i’ve never chosen anyone but you, and i realize, i don’t ever want anyone, except you.” He finally takes a breath, too scared to make eye contact, and he sighs.

“I know this is stupid and random and you can totally say no or run away if th-” 

“Yes.” She stuns him, completely silencing his rant.

He finally meets her eyes, “What?” He asks, sure as shit he heard her wrong. 

“Yes, Winchester, i’ll marry you.” She says, this time clear as day. 

He huffs out a laugh, “ Wait, seriously?” he asks, stunned and still thinking she has to be fucking with him.

She shrugs and smiles, “Yeah, I’ve known you all my life, you were always my prince charming, my perfect match, i was just waiting for you to figure it out.” She laughs. Dean’s eyes roam her face, for the first time, seeing how perfect she really is for him. 

“I literally could have been with you this entire time?” he raises and eyebrow and she shrugs, smiling. He shakes his head, not believing his own stupidity before he takes full advatnge, leaning in and finally claiming what’s been his this entire time. 

Safe to say, that was the last proposal she ever recieved. 

#Dean x Reader #Reader insert #daydreamingintheimpala

[sneezy-cheeseloaf]

recounting the entire avengers: endgame movie, which i only saw once when it came out, from memory

because i just took the SAT and i want to do anything except think about that so get ready for a fun ride full of holes and my reenactments of scenes and quotes that i remember from however many years it’s been now since endgame came out. buckle the fuckle up

movie opens, clint’s whole ass family fucking dies. cue killing spree fueled by grief and anger. HashTag Relatable

tony is floating through space with nebula and teaching her how to play paper football

holy shit is this how tony dies

“pep” ouc h

oh hey he’s home, dope

The Gang (tm) learns where thanos’s farm is somehow i can’t really remember

“perhaps i judged you too harshly”

“???? thor????” “what? i went for the head”

“five” five what?? days?? weeks??? months???? oh boy i can’t wait to find ou- “years later” HUH???????

steve looks the exact same, so i guess he kept up that workout schedule even through the snap. i mean good for him honestly

and is also running a talk therapy group like sam did

a single smidgen of gay representation but it’s a good start ig

i don’t really remember what everyone else was doing, i just know that tony and pep have morgan now but idk if that gets revealed now or later

the only reason we had a movie is because of a rat. everyone say thank you to Rat for releasing scott lang, please. round of applause

scott’s daughter is all grown up and catch me sobbing over the fact that he wasn’t there to see it

somewhere in here nat is crying and eating a sandwich and honestly girl same

“hey!!! it’s me!!!! scott lang!!! ant man???? also what the hell happened???? lemme IN”

cue scott lang having a single brain cell and bringing up time travel. i think it was him that proposed the idea. maybe not. but imma give him credit

oh yeah bruce and hulk are besties now and bruce is just permanently Like That

and cue everyone being shook at the idea of time travel

time to go see Science Man at his house on the lake

“i wish you had come for anything else.” ouch

gang leaves dejectedly

peter. that’s it. and suddenly tony is all hands on deck

cue science mumbo jumbo in the middle of the night while he eats something out of a bag that i can’t remember

“shit!!” “sHiT!!!” “NO”

“i love you 3000″

Science Man reveals that he has, indeed cracked the code to literal time travel

cue nat, the only person with an umbrella, going to find clint who is busy with murder, as he does

“don’t do that. don’t give me home” stfu budapest man and get in the car.

thor has. enlargened. and is now playing fortnight with korg as a means to cope with what happened plus losing loki, as i think we all would

The Gang is back together and working (surprisingly) coordinately and throwing ideas around and it’s actually very cute. and it makes my heart very happy. and i want to cry every time i think about it because we all know what comes next

scott’s taco gets blown away. bruce gives him another. all is well in the world

and in this exhibit we see the only brain cell in the whole group, which is being used by rhodey at all times

“why don’t we just,,,, (choking motion)” “to a BABY???”

during the time tests someone gets reverted to a baby but i don’t remember who and it’s highkey disturbing

“i consider this an absolute win!!”

cue slo mo walk with the cool white time suits that everyone looks so good in

“see you in a minute” that smile. she looks so happy. sobbing

i think it’s in here that all the color go through steve’s eyes, so let’s just take a minute to acknowledge how pretty he is

“just for the record, that suit did nothing for your ass.” “i don’t remember asking you to look”

“that’s america’s ass.” yes it is scott you’re absolutely right

“i cOuLd dO tHiS aLL dAy” “yeah i knoOoOW”

time for tony to give tony a heart attack and then just stare in what i can only assume is amusement. i’m pretty sure that comes after america’s ass but maybe not

somewhere in here steve is just staring at peggy through blinds and it’s sad when you see it but when you think about it afterwards, it’s so funny for no reason

time to get whacked by a very angry hulk who was not allowed to use the elevator

“NO STAIRS”

tony goes flying. so does the tesseract. loki, in handcuffs, is like “oh bet this is mine now” and. Leaves.

i’m pretty sure it’s bruce who goes and gets schooled by The Ancient One on the multiverse, and i say it’s bruce because i think he’s the only one out of The Gang who could ever actually wrap his head around it

i don’t remember exactly how they get the tesseract but they do

thor and rocket are in asgard and thor has a panic attack, as I think we all would if we had to talk to our dead mother and pretend like we don't know what's going to happen

and remember kids, slapping someone is not the way to handle a panic attack. anyways

a mother always knows

"i'm still worthy!!!!" you always were, thor. you never stopped being worthy

and we have our hammer back

cue sobbing on vormir

“clint. it’s ok. it’s ok.” that smile.

nat’s fucking dead and i’m fucking dead inside let’s keep this party goin

other stones are recovered and i don’t really remember how but hey we got all six

“where’s nat?” cue more sobbing from me and from clint as you can see each and every team member’s heart drop to the fucking floor. especially steve

yeah maybe we’re doing this for half the universe and all the people we lost, but mostly for nat now

tony’s makeshift infinity gauntlet has entered the chat

Green Man is the only one who can physically take the power of the stones, so the fate of literally everything they have ever done up to this point is on him

snap rest in peace bruce’s arm

cue every single person in the theater holding their breath

“guys. it worked.”

cue explosion as their facility gets bombed and i am terrified that it has killed the entire gang

but it obviously has not and i am once again a Class A Idiot

i can't remember if it’s steve or tony who wakes up first but one shakes the other awake and is like “get the fuck up bitch idk what just happened but we got a problem”

everyone is mostly fine. but they’re all alive and that’s what matters

and now we have the setting for the entire rest of the movie basically

oh hey thanos. that’s uh. that’s a big army you got there

i don’t really remember everything that happened with The Past thanos, gamora, and nebula but i remember that gamora once again sees what a twat her adoptive father is and is like “oh hell na”

cue the gang fighting for their lives against Past thanos. literally

oh shit thor’s about to be killed????

OH MY GOD HE HAS THE HAMMER

cue the theater screaming as they should

hell yeah. bonk that giant space grape with the god of thunder’s hammer. you go steve. and look like a badass doing it as you should

shit’s still fucked and they eventually get their asses handed to them one by one

somewhere in here the shield breaks just like we saw in age of ultron. and like damn bro i liked that thing

steve stands up by himself because bitch. you cant kill him unless he says so. he dies on his own terms. he didn’t live for over a fucking century to die like this

our mans is standing up against a whole ass army knowing full well that he can’t win but damn if he aint ready to try

“ok listen strange. you have to open the portal to his left. his LEFT. you hear me???”

“steve. STEVE. on your left.”

cue the most goosebump-inducing scene that i have ever seen and probably will ever see. i would do anything to see that scene for the first time again. that feeling was like nothing i’ve ever experienced

the amazing symphonics are NOT helping my already-about-to-explode-from-excitement heart

now the gang’s ALL here. and we all cry because all of our peeps are back from the dead and we all missed them and highkey grieved for them after infinity war

i can’t remember if steve actually sees bucky yet but i think he does and i wanted to cry on the spot because not only did i miss bucky but man did i just want them to see each other again

cue sick pan of the whole ass marvel roster like smash ultimate, including howard duck somewhere in there

PETER OUR BOY SWINGIN ON IN

“AVENGERS. assemble.” “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

but we all know damn well that not a single person could hear him whisper that shit. like steve bro speak up a little

and the battle for the ages commences

we get to see all our favorite boys are girls fuck shit up and it’s absolutely incredible. wow it really feels like someone’s missing who could that be.

this is now a very elaborate game of keepaway

“catch” “Catch” “CATCH “CATCH”

“hey queens” he remembered. catch me cryin

“hey peter. got somethin for me?” god i love her. flew through a whole ass spaceship. no stoppin her

t'challa remembers clint's name. he did care

oh yeah scott is fucking humongous again, but third time’s the charm ig. maybe he won't pass the fuck out this time

somewhere in here, strange starts holding like. an entire ocean back and i dont really remember where it came from

we get a whole segment of marvel women kicking ass and taking names and i think i just need to take a minute. WE collectively need to take a minute

carol flies straight through a spaceship and everyone is like ???? hello????? where have you been?????????

carol gets literally headbutted by thanos and doesnt move a fucking inch. and that look of murder in her eyes. she could tell me to walk into a pit of lava and i would not question it. the power

“launch the missiles!!!” “but sir, our army-” “DO IT”

damn thanos our expectations for you were low but holy fuck

somewhere in here i think petter quill sees Past gamora and is like gamora???? and she like kicks him in the balls or somethin and is like “this is the ones i picked?????”

the fight continues and honestly a lot of it’s a blur but damn was it not the coolest thing i’ve ever seen. 

cue strange knowing exactly how this was gonna go down, and holding up a single finger

i dont think ive ever seen that look on tony's face before

oh shit thanos has the gauntlet and all the stones. fuck.

wait holdup that gauntlet looks a little funky

WAIT HOLDUP

“i am inevitable”

“and i. am iron man.”

the theater, once again holds its breath

all is lowkey calm and everyone is shook

thanos’s entire army slowly fades away. including one of those big worm things that almost eats (i think it was) rocket but like. dusts right as it hits the ground and is a really cool shot

and thanos sits down on a rock. and finally is gone. and it's so cathartic

oh joyous day!! they’ve won!! they’ve done it!!! wait holdup where’s tony. i remember what happened to bruce where the fuck is tony

wait

wait hold on

wait hold on a minute

“we did it. we won, mr stark. we won. please, mr stark”

“pep.”

“it’s ok. you can rest. you can rest.”

i have officially passed away and am a sobbing mess. you can’t do this to me. he’s gonna come back. there’s no way. tony stark doesn’t die. no.

this is a fucking funeral. i am going to combust into tears

“proof that tony stark has a heart”

i just wanted him to be able to see morgan grow up.

but him and nat are eating shawarma together in the sky now.

“i’m recording this in case something goes wrong, which it won’t.”

“i love you 3000.”

oh we’re still rolling. oh we don’t even get a minute to process

steve is leaving??? wait holdup we cant lose both. no

“are you sure about this?” “i have to”

“i’m with you til the end of the line” so that was a fucking lie

but steve deserves to do what makes him happy. so i can’t be too mad. actually, nah i aint even mad i’m just sad

bucky looks so dejected. so sad. someone please give him a hug. he desperately needs it

oh hey steve. but you’re old now. hey then, grandpa. how did you. get there

buck and sam go talk to him as they should

“you wanna talk about her?” “no, i don’t think i will”

“how does it feel?” “like it belongs to someone else”

sam has officially inhered the shield, and by extension, his very own bucky barnes. it’s a packaged deal

clint’s got his family back. and they can finally finish their picnic or whatever they were doing at the beginning of the movies

and steve finally got that dance. finally. and he looks so happy. so content.

and that’s about all i remember

i have not watched endgame since i saw it in theaters when it came out because i absolutely do not have the emotional stability to do it again. but damn the disney plus shows have been bangin

i hope you enjoyed the ride, thank you for joining me in my. whatever the fuck this is

#marvel #avengers #mcu #mcu quotes #endgame #avengers endgame #steve rogers #tony stark #thor #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #clint barton #bruce banner #sam wilson #bucky barns #this took me a whole ass hour #an hour well spent #i know i missed things #but it was like 3 years ago ok #marvel's avengers

[arandompostarchive]

Inure - Ch. 1

SAVED WORK

Summary: To some, The Specter is a serial killer. To some, a hero. But to everyone, you were entirely a mystery. You had no history, just a list of victims a mile long. No matter how many people searched your name, they could find anything. If only they had the spelling right. Now, you’ve come across some unfortunate information that drives you out of your usual shadows and into the path of the Avengers. Including two of the more reclusive members of the team. And it’s hard to pick only one of them.

***

The man ran through the hall, his footsteps echoing throughout his house. He tried to navigate the dark halls, too scared to turn on lights or stop and think. He turned every so often, hoping your figure wasn’t behind him anymore. But it always was. He was panicking, you could tell. He could feel sweat stick to the inside of his white button down and the creases of the dress pants he had yet to take off.

He tried to avoid the small side tables and expensive foreign vases that lined his hall. He had managed to trip over a few tables though, knocking the glass onto his floor, shattering it. Each time he’d whisper a soft curse. There was glass beneath your shoes that probably cost millions of dollars. You found it funny. Even now, running for his life, money was still at the back of his mind.

He ran into the next room he saw, his office. A closed off space with nowhere to run. He turned around, looking at each wall. You could hear a string of curses fall from his mouth before he turned to you.

His small study still had a lamp on, the room dimly lit with the yellow-tinted light.

“Please, what do you want? Money? I can do that. Hell, I can get you your own house! I’ve got connections. I can find people for you! Other people! Please, don’t.”

Now, most people would feel bad about this. Chasing a man through his own home with certain ill intention. But you had seen his life. You’d seen what he does to people. He’d tear apart families, kidnapping people and selling any drug he could find. His hands were soaked in blood, something you could understand. But while you had killed, you picked your victims well. They were the most guilty people you could find. Murderers, kidnappers, kingpins, anyone who managed to escape justice.

Some called you a serial killer, a term that wasn’t exactly incorrect. Some thought you were a vigilante, which also wasn’t wrong. But no matter what, everyone was silently grateful for everything you did.

You always found a new target. From whispers on the street, other criminals, cops who needed a break, sometimes Nick Fury himself would send you a case file or two. You had seen it all, people with souls blacker than night. And this man was no different.

“I don’t want money, Laurence. You’ve killed innocents. You’ve let people die. You’ve heard them beg for mercy and have granted none. Why would I give you a luxury you haven’t given any of your victims?”

The man stuttered. His eyes darted around, frantically trying to find something. Maybe a weapon or just an idea of how to get out of this mess. He suddenly spoke, his voice shaking and cracking. “Because I have information! There’s this man who’s building some huge weapon. Probably wants to take New York out. He could start wars with this thing, yeah? It’ll kill millions in a heartbeat. I know what he’s got! I know what he’s doing, I’ve met the guy! I’ll tell you everything.” He spoke quickly, hoping to finish before you decided to end him. “But not if I’m dead.”

You scoffed. “Tell me, why on Earth would I accept the pleas of a dead man?” You asked. It was a real question, despite your sarcastic tone.

“I’ve got the info! He was chatting with some friends of mine, gave ‘em a whole file about it.” He reached toward the desk and pulled a file off of it, showing it to you. It read “SPECTR2” on the front in small, black script. Your eyes widened and you grabbed the file from him.

He watched as you read over it and confirmed his theory. He was right. Whoever this man was, he had the real thing.

“Alright, fine.” You said, accepting his offer.

“Oh thank god! I knew you’d be reasonable, you’re all about ‘the greater good’, yeah? I’ll tell you whatever you want, lady.” He said, relief washing over his features.

You smiled. “Yeah.” You held the file at your side. “Thing is, I know all about this project already. I don’t need you.”

The panic quickly spread across his face again and he racked his brain for something else. “C’mon, don’t I get something here?” He said, glancing at the walls to find some kind of weapon.

You sighed. “Fine. I’ll make your death quick.” You said, taking out one of your swords. He only had a minute to react before he was already dead. You had gotten used to the sight of death, though it wasn’t your favorite thing, there was something satisfying about knowing you had avenged people in some way.

His blood had already stained the carpet he had surrounding his desk and leaked along the cracks of the wooden floor. You groaned at the thought of cleaning your shoes after this and sat down at his desk chair, looking for any other info on the man starting up Project SPECTR again.

***

“So you want us to team up with some psycho killer?” Tony said, leaning back in his usual chair. The meeting room was packed, each member of the team, and some newer additions, crowded together at one table with Steve stationed at the front.

“She has information, Tony. She says lives are in danger.” Tony looked at him ridiculously.

“I’ve got my share of psycho’s on this team and now we’re working with another?” Tony gestured to Bucky and Loki’s side of the table. He got a glare from Nat and he only shrugged his shoulders in response. “Her terms are insane! She wants immunity for every crime she’s done or ever will do. That doesn’t sound insane to you? What if she’s got some master plan and we won’t be able to arrest her for it?”

Nat looked between Steve and Tony. It was obvious they weren’t getting anywhere.

“She’s got info we need. If she wanted to enact some ‘master plan’ she’d just use whatever death machine she’s got, not tell us about it. If she’s serious, we’ll hold up our end. If she’s messing with us, we won’t and we’ll lock her up on site. But if she’s really found plans for what could be the world’s next terrorist attack, we at least need to see her proof.”

Tony looked to Nat, “She’s basically holding the world hostage! Either she gets to do whatever the fuck she wants or everyone dies. We’re really letting that slide?”

This time Steve spoke, though he glared at Tony a bit for his cursing. “I didn’t say I liked it. She’s put us in a tough situation. And Nat’s right. If she’s lying in any way, we’ll lock her up. We’ve got to living lie detectors at this table.” He gestured to Loki on one side of the table and Wanda on the other. Tony only rolled his eyes, silently accepting the argument.

“Are we sure about this? I mean, if she’s telling the truth, then we’ve got some sociopath with a death ray somewhere. But what if she’s lying? She’ll be in the compound. Even if we can lock her up, what if we aren’t able to before she accomplishes whatever task she’s trying to?” Sam said as soon as the room had quieted a bit. A few team members nodded along, considering the possibility.

“We have to take that risk.” Steve said.

***

You strode into the Avengers’ compound, appreciating the space. It was larger than what you were used to. You had jumped from house to house, staying away from law enforcement. If all went well though, you wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.

There were a few Avengers there to greet you. You had recognized them from the news and you were interested in seeing Natasha here. Among them, you saw Tony Stark. You’d recognize him a mile away. He looked different from his father, though he had the same sarcastic look on his face. You considered punching him now, maybe giving him a serious injury. But, sadly, there really were lives at stake.

Captain America stepped closer to you, holding out his hand. You took it hesitantly, the gloves of your suit meeting his hands. You appreciated the hood of your outfit now with the light reflecting off of windows and into your eyes. It was at least a little bit of protection.

“Specter. Good to meet you. I’m Captain Rogers, just call me Steve.” The other Avengers stepped to his side, making you slightly uncomfortable with how close they were. You couldn’t show it though. You had to be steeled, show no fear. Especially since you were in the lion’s den.

“This is Natasha, Tony, and Thor. We’ve got a meeting room just this way.” He got straight to business and began leading you away. You were careful to let the four Avengers go in front of you, and you were certain at least Natasha had noticed this action. Tony kept glancing back to you, slightly nervous. You could accept that. You felt nervous too, though you had gotten good at concealing your nerves, even before you had ‘died’.

You entered the room which had all of the other Avengers in it as well as five empty chairs. You were seated at the end, directly next to Natasha. Steve settled himself in the end chair right next to you. You looked at the rest of the group who were all doing a terrible job of pretending not to stare at you.

“Alright, Specter. Should we call you Specter?” You nodded, letting Steve continue. “Your conditions are questionable to say the least. We need to figure out if you’re actually telling the truth about this weapon first.”

“That’s fine,” you began, “I’d do the same.” You opened up your file, noting how there was a small camera above you, casting a picture of the file onto a board at the front of the room. You smiled at the innovation, curious about how exactly it worked. It had been a while since you’d gotten to appreciate technology, and where better than the home of a Stark.

“This is a real file. I worked on this project years ago. It was meant to help heal people. Stitch them back together, even when they were on the brink of death. But it malfunctioned. I can tell you this is real. Check any references you like, though it’ll be hard to get your hands on. We never made digital copies, this is our original paper.”

Tony squinted at the paper, seeming confused by it.

“And by we, you mean…?” Another man trailed off. You recognized him as Hawkeye, though you hadn’t memorized their actual names.

“Me and Howard Stark. We worked on it back during the war, it was like our pet project.” Tony seemed less confused now.

“That was over half a century ago. How exactly are you standing here?” You sighed at Hawkeye’s question.

“It’s a rather long and annoying story. Let’s keep it simple and say I’ve effectively scared off death.”

“Guys,” Tony said, still looking at the projection of the file. The room turned to him and you were thankful for whatever subject change he had to offer. “I’d love to say she’s full of it, but I know my father’s handwriting. That’s his signature too at the bottom.” As he pointed the small camera zoomed in. You’d have to ask him about the technology’s design later. Assuming this actually went well. You slightly cringed at the thought of speaking to a Stark again, but you’d manage for the sake of a new discovery. “Hey, Friday?”

“Yes Boss?”

You heard a woman’s voice in the room that didn’t belong to anyone present. You quickly figured out it was an AI system Stark had made.

“How well does that match Howard’s handwriting?”

There was a beat of silence before the AI, Friday, spoke again.

“It’s a perfect match.”

The team didn’t seem to know if that was good or bad.

“So there’s really someone set on ending humanity?” A man said across the table. You remembered his moniker being something bird themed, like Hawkeye’s, but it wasn’t coming to you.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t be anywhere near this place unless absolutely necessary,” You said. The Captain glanced around the table and the group seemed to silently make their decision.

“Alright. We’ll meet your terms, but understand that you must stay here through his whole process. No ‘missions’ of your own.” You thought over his offer. It was slightly tempting. Though you’d miss your little hunt for criminals, it would be nice to have a house for longer than a week.

“Fine. But you can’t bind my powers or spy on me or some bullshit.” The Captain nodded, agreeing.

Suddenly, you were a temporary Avenger.

***

“I don’t like her. She’s too calm. We’re facing a giant death machine and she’s completely stone faced.” You could overhear the conversation from where you stood outside the Avengers common area. Natasha had offered to show you around and you had denied, instead accepting a map and list of locations you’d be interested in.

They were sitting around in a circle of couches, all facing each other. Some of the members seemed distracted. Like one with long hair who was slowly stroking the spine of a book he carried in his hands and another with a striking metal arm. You had to admit, the team was certainly good-looking.

You continued to listen to the conversation, though you had lost a bit of the argument when you retreated into your thoughts.

“What can we do? I’m hardly happy about this, but she’s holding the world hostage, like you said. Millions might die if he didn’t have that info.”

“And what, we’re trusting a serial killer? She’s murdered who know’s how many people and we’re supposed to just sit here and fucking sing Kumbaya?!” Tony said. You could see his point. You wouldn’t trust you either.

“Many of us have killed.” Loki said, offering some perspective and hoping someone else would continue his point. He was still on ‘house-arrest’ and was hardly considered trustworthy. Stark wouldn’t listen no matter how silver his tongue was. But the others seemed to at least consider his words with the exception of Hawkeye who seemed upset that he even had to hear Loki’s voice.

“He’s right Stark. I’d hardly say my hands are clear, but here I am.” Natasha added, taking up Loki’s silent offer to continue his argument.

“I’m not okay with this. She’s absolutely mental. I can’t find anything on her besides media speculation. SHIELD didn’t have anything on her, despite the fact that she’s a well-known criminal and she’s got no history. No names attached, nothing. Just media speculation which is all made up. I checked.”

You took this time to walk out from the hall, the click of your shoes making the group look up. “It’s because you have the spelling wrong.” The entire team looked nervous at being caught. “Don’t feel bad. Of course you’d talk about me, I’m a stranger in your midst.” That seemed to calm some of them down, though they still looked wary of you. Stark was the first to speak.

“We’ve got the spelling wrong?” He asked.

“I’d expect so. You’re spelling my name as ‘Specter’, a ghost, like the media does. Try S-P-E-C-T-R, you’ll find a little more.” You before turning and walking out of the room. While you weren’t excited about opening up your backstory, it’d make this whole ‘trust’ thing a lot quicker. And if you were going to get anywhere, there’d need to be some sort of trust.

***

Project SPECTR - August, 1940

Howard Stark and Dr. Y/n L/n began SPECTR in August of 1940 and have been working on it for three years now.

It’s expected to help Allies win the war, though Dr. L/n believes it could— and should— be used for other purposes. There have been several malfunctions so far and I am unsure how they will continue. Stark has been promoting the idea among generals and strategists, despite the lack of finished product. Dr. L/n suspects it will not be finished by the time Stark suggests, in two weeks. She has told various generals not to expect anything in two weeks, though all generals seem to unfortunately favor Stark’s estimates. They plan to run a test run in one week and fully activate the machine. Both Stark and Dr. L/n hope it will be completely stable for at least ten minutes.

There was a messy signature at the bottom, though Steve identified it quickly as ‘Margaret Carter’.

They read through a few other files, and learned more about the original project. Reportedly, there was a severe malfunction, resulting in Dr. L/n’s death. Peggy had shut down the project immediately after, despite Howard’s begging that it would still work. There had apparently been a rift in their friendship over Dr. L/n’s death.

It also said that the Doctor’s body had disappeared in 1992, only weeks after Howard’s death, which had sparked a few conspiracy theories for those aware of her connection to Stark and Carter, two famous names. She was a leading scientist and was making seriously impressive strides. Stark was disappointed she had died so soon. He couldn’t help but wonder what she would’ve done.

“Is that Specter?” Sam asked about the Doctor working on the project. Though the team seemed unsure of the answer, Steve responded.

“It must be. Why else would she draw our attention to this. She’s got personal experience with whoever is trying to restart the project, though I’m not entirely certain why a machine to heal people will be turned into a new weapon.”

The team tossed theories back and forth and you listened in, smiling when a few of them guessed right. You slipped away soon after though, heading down the hall to the training room.

#loki x reader #loki #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #loki x reader x bucky #inure #saved work #fanfic

[athenasbloodyspear]

Say Something to Stop Me: Chapter 9

Writing Master List | Say Something to Stop Me Master List

(There’s a double asterisk ** at one point in the story, I recommend playing the song I mention “Every Step You Take” by The Police as you read if that’s your thing! It’s what I wrote the rest of the scene to and I think it just makes it feel like a movie.)

Dr. Cho did end up having to put a few stitches in Bucky’s eyebrow and it turns out he was hiding some nasty bruises under his shirt. He looked like he’d gone through a meat tenderizer. The bullet proof vest he wore kept most of the shots from being fatal, but the smattering of bullet shaped bruises on his chest nearly tore you in two.

You sat in a chair across the room and watched as Helen finished his stitches and felt around on his chest for any broken ribs or potential internal bleeding. You found yourself just staring at him while they ran various diagnostics. He was definitely worse for wear, but he was so unbelievably beautiful that you felt your heart squeeze in your chest.

It was funny, this dynamic between you two. A push and pull that you hadn’t experienced before. It was like when you worked together on missions. When one of you moved, the other adjusted to fill the space you had left. When he had needed your calming touch and level head, you’d been able to provide it for him.

It struck you then, how long you’d been living in a relationship that was only push, no pull. You’d let someone dictate your emotions, your reactions and responses to nearly everything. You had shoved yourself into a box for him, trying to fit exactly how he wanted you.

Bucky let you be exactly how you needed to be in each moment. He stepped in to fill holes and support you where you needed it, but stepped away and let you go when he knew you could stand on your own.

He trusted you.

You trusted him.

You loved him.

After they’d finished, Tony told him to get his ass cleaned up and to bed.

“And I mean sleep Barnes. If you rip those stitches because you can’t keep your hands off her, I won’t let anyone come close them and you’ll have to restitch them yourself.”  

You let Bucky rest most of his weight on you as you helped get him back to his room. At this point you knew that there was no risk of Bucky ripping those stitches. He needed sleep badly.

You assisted as he peeled his bloodied pants and boots from his body, then held under his arms as he slowly lowered himself into the bath, being careful to keep his right arm above water. Everytime he winced in pain you felt a sting in your own chest.

He’d be fine, you knew. He healed abnormally fast. That didn’t make the moments of his pain hurt any less to watch.

After he’d finally lowered himself into the steaming water, you’d told him to lay back and relax while you rinsed and lathered his hair and scrubbed at his neck and chest to remove the layers of sweat and dried blood. Then you’d gotten him dried off and dressed in pajamas before helping him curl up in his bed.

He was asleep before you could even pull the covers up to tuck him in.

~0~

The next few weeks passed quietly. Sam was mostly bed ridden, so you and Bucky spent a lot of time in his room generally bothering him and making him wish he could heal faster just so he could get away from you both and your endless supplies of one-liners.

One night, you both helped him make the long trip to the common area under the guise of a change in scenery. Really, Peter wanted to keep watching the Fast and Furious movies and making Sam watch his least favorite movies when he didn’t have the ability to leave on his own was hilarious.

Were you terrible people? Maybe.

Sam did admit he would have done the same thing if given the chance.

Pretty much everyone joined in. Steve had helped Nat up from her room. She was in much better shape than Sam and was pretty much 100%, but Steve stayed close to her most days claiming that just because she seemed better didn’t mean something couldn’t happen to her.

Wanda and Vision came to watch the movies as well, which ended up being the best part of the experience. Vision kept pointing out the flawed logic in many of the action scenes and Wanda kept trying to patiently explain to him that the movies weren’t intended to be logical. Vision's distress nearly made Peter pee his pants laughing.

When you were taking a snack break between Fast Five and the 6th installment, Tony wandered into the kitchen slowly. Looking at his hands.

“Hey kid. Can you come chat over here a second.”

“Uh. Sure Tony.”

You stood from the couch, having to untangled yourself from Bucky’s hold, and sauntered to the kitchen island.

“How you feeling, kid?” Tony asked.

“Fine…” You murmured. “What’s going on?”

“Uh. Nothing major. Just trying to gauge how you’re doing emotionally before I say what I have to say.” Tony was looking at pretty much anywhere but you, fiddling with spoons and forks that were on the counter.

“Out with it Tony.”

“Uh…” Tony hedged. “Well I just want you to know that Elijah…” He trails off.

Saying his name is enough for everyone in the room to suddenly quiet and look in your direction.

“Just say it Tony. I’m fine. What about him?”

Bucky gets up from the couch and takes a few steps toward you before stopping a few feet from the two of you. The rest of the group stays where they’re seated, staring.

“Elijah’s dead.” Tony finally finishes.

It takes a moment to fully process that thought. You really hadn’t been prepared to hear anything about him today, let alone that he was dead.

“He’s what?” You whisper.

“I’ve had an agent tailing him since that day in Brooklyn.” Tony says softly. “I just got word that he’s dead.”

You whip your head up to look at Bucky.

“I swear to god it wasn’t me.” Bucky says, holding his hands up in surrender. “But when I do find out who it was, I will probably give them a kiss on the mouth.”

You grab a wooden spoon off the counter and whip it at Bucky’s head. Bucky ducks easily and Steve reaches up and grabs it out of the air behind Bucky before it can smack into the glass wall behind him. You also let out a small chuckle. You can’t help it.

“I’m thinking you won’t want to, Barnes.” Tony remarks. “Considering the cause of death was the dumbass getting himself good and drunk and wrapping his fancy sports car around a tree. So unless you’d like to kiss the man's corpse, you’re shit out of luck.”

Bucky huffed and crossed his arms, rolling his eyes at Tony.

You sat down abruptly at a stool at the kitchen island. Bucky took a few quick steps toward you and laid a hand on your back.

“Sweetheart, are you…?”

“I’m fine.” You whisper. “I’m fine.”

And you were, you realized. You basically felt nothing. Of course, you felt some twinge of sadness at someone you had spent so many years of your life with dying in a horrific car accident.

But you felt fine really. No shortness of breath, no panic at the thought of him. You were clear headed and calm.

There was no threat of the sea of emotions lapping at your heels. You didn’t feel like you were about to drown.

“I’m fine.” You murmured again. Looking up at Bucky. “I’m fine, Bucky. Does that make me a monster?”

Bucky stepped in to you then and wrapped you in a warm hug, kissing the crown of your head. “No. It does not make you a monster sweetheart.”

“So. Not to bring up a touchy subject or anything…” Sam piped up from his spot where you and Bucky had propped him on the couch. “But, this man was your fiance, no?”

“Yes.” You murmur back. Bucky’s arms tensed a bit around you, you felt his head shift and you assumed he was leveling Sam with a death glare.

“And, we’re totally fine with him being dead? Like don’t get me wrong, I’m on your side no matter what I just feel like I’m missing something.”

“Sam, she doesn’t have to…” Bucky started.

“No, Buck. It’s okay.” You said, placing a palm on his chest and giving him a little push so you could turn to look at Sam and the rest of your family in the living room.

“Yes. He was my fiance. I knew him for most of my life. I kept him a secret from you all because he hated SHIELD and all of you. He hated that I worked here.” You started. Bucky was watching you carefully, with a hand placed on your back. He seemed poised for attack, like if there was any indication that your heart rate picked up or you lost your breath he would snag you in his arms and run out of there like a bomb was going off.

You loved him.

But it was time for your family to know.

“We ended things when I got back from Budapest. He was abusive, to say the least, and manipulative. I was angry at myself for letting it get that far which was why I isolated myself from you all for so long.” You sighed and offered your family a small smile. “But, I’m feeling more like myself again.” You looked at Sam then. “So, no. We don’t really care that he’s gone, beyond normal human discomfort with death. Even if that makes me a little evil, I kind of don’t care.”

It was quiet for a moment. Then Sam spoke. “Well good riddance then.”

Nat spoke up next. “I am a little disappointed you didn’t take a crack at him Barnes.”

“Trust me I wanted to.” Bucky chuckled. “But my priorities were elsewhere.” He snuck a look at you with a little smile.

“Thank you for telling us.” Wanda said softly. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know. But you’re my family.”

Steve stood up then from his spot across the room and crossed to you. He wrapped you up in a big hug. The next thing you knew, Bucky, Nat, Wanda, Peter and even Vision were joining in. You teared up a bit standing in the center of all of them.

“Get in here Tony.” Steve muttered.

“Sorry pal, I don’t do group hugs.” Tony quipped from where he leaned against the kitchen island.

You peeked through the holes between arms and saw Sam sitting on the couch smiling at all of you. You pouted a bit as you looked at him, offering your apologies that he was stuck on the couch.

“I’m there in spirit, gorgeous.” Sam smiled at you. “When I can stand on my own I’ll give you a better hug than any of these assholes could dream of.”

You giggled then. The whole group devolved into arguments on who gave the best hugs.

Right as Nat and Steve were going toe to toe (arguing vehemently that the other gave the best hug) Tony spoke up. “What do you all say we go to the bar down the road and celebrate?”

“Celebrate?” You chuckled.

“Yeah kid. I think it’s about time we let loose as a family. I’ll give Sam the bottom half of a suit or something so he can walk on his own in the bar.”

“You mean to tell me these past few weeks I could have just borrowed a suit? What kind of sick bastard are you?” Sam yells incredulously from across the room.

“Don’t push your luck birdboy.” Tony looks at you again. “What do you say? Fancy a night out with your family?”

You couldn’t think if anything you’d love more. “Hell yes.”

~0~

You all piled into various vehicles at the compound and made the short trek down the road to the bar. (Not before Sam finally gave you a big hug. He wasn’t kidding, he was a really incredible hugger.)

You all made quite a scene rolling up as a unit and pushing a bunch of tables together. Luckily, most of the patrons at the bar seemed to be wise enough not to cause a scene with the entire Avengers team in one spot.

You sat and marveled briefly at everyone laughing and drinking and enjoying themselves. It was still amazing to you that all of these people, who had seen so much and suffered so much could be together here now, laughing and joking with each other.

You were proud to be one of them.

Peter was slinging spitballs through straws in Sam’s direction which Sam was artfully trying to dodge, his iron legs supporting him now. Tony, Steve and Bucky were sniping back and forth at each other. Vision and Wanda had gotten up from the table to dance to the songs playing on the jukebox.

“Hey hot stuff.” Nat said, dropping down next to you at the table. “Whatcha thinking about all quiet over here?”

“Just amazed I’m here, is all. It’s everything I always wanted, but really didn’t think I could ever have.”

“I know what you mean.” Nat said softly. “I didn’t know if I’d ever really have a family like this. I didn’t think I could.”

“I tried so hard to make it work with Elijah, nearly destroying myself in the process, because I wanted to belong somewhere. For somewhere to be home.” You muttered.

“I know.” Nat said. “Seems silly now doesn’t it? I fought for years against belonging here. It scared the hell out of me. Still does most days, especially when one of you gets hauled through those doors all messed up. Emotionally or physically.” She looks at you pointedly then. “But I’ve learned I’d rather be terrified of losing you all than never having you, you know?”

“Totally.”

You both sit in silence for a bit, sipping on your beers and just taking in the scene. Just then, “I Ran” by A Flock of Seagulls came on and you bubbled up with laughter.

“What’s that giggle for?” Nat asked.

“Nothing. I just got an idea.” You drained your beer and stood up from the table you were sitting at. “Hey, can you turn it up?” You sent the bartender a smile. He nodded and spun to turn the volume up in the bar. “Wanna join?” You tossed over your shoulder at Nat as you placed your hands on the bar and hopped up. You started moving your hips to the music, the same way you did a year ago in Budapest.

Nat glanced over to where Bucky was still mostly oblivious to you standing on the bar, his back facing you as he talked to Steve and Tony. “Hell yeah I do.”

Nat hopped up on the bar with you and sidled close to you, moving her hips with yours.

Wanda saw you and quickly hopped up on the bar. A few other women in the bar looked up and watched, and you three waved them over to have them join. The bartenders quickly moved the glasses on the bar out of the way so you all had a clear space to dance.

There were a few whoops and hollers from some of the men sitting at the bar on the other end, and you spun, ignoring your real prey and sending flirtatious smiles and giggles toward the men down the bar.

The attention of the other men finally got the attention that you had been looking for in the first place.

Steve’s head popped up from their conversation and his eyes widened at the sight before him. You, Nat and Wanda dancing tightly together, hands in the air. Without tearing his eyes from you he quickly punched Bucky in the shoulder. You could tell Bucky had probably asked what the hell Steve’s problem was when Steve just pointed in your direction. Bucky turned slowly to look.

You weren’t looking directly at him, you were still making eyes at the guys down the bar, but from your peripheral vision you saw his jaw drop open before he quickly shut it, grinding down on his jaw. He leaned back against the table, resting his elbows on the surface and spreading his legs out to assume an arrogant laid back stance. Clearly intent on enjoying your show.

It took every ounce of will not to hop down off the bar and climb him like a tree.

As the bridge of the song sped up and the electric guitar started shredding Nat, Wanda and you really turned it on. You saw Steve put his face in his hands as he released a long groan. Bucky just leveled you with an arrogant smirk. As the final tones of the song played you finally looked fully at Bucky, giving him a haughty smile as if to say What? I’m not doing anything.

Bucky just rolled his eyes at you as the song ended and the first notes of “Every Breath You Take” by the Police started**.

It was just like that first night in Budapest. You, up on a bar dancing, and Bucky staring at you from his place at the table, a dark heated look in his eyes.

Except this time, it would end differently.

Bucky stood up abruptly from the table and stalked toward you. Nat and Wanda took that as their cue to step away and off the bar, leaving you standing there alone. When Bucky reached the bar he wrapped his hands around your waist.

“C’mon babygirl. Let’s go home.” He chuckled as he lifted you up off the bar. As he stepped back he started to lower you down from where you towered over him. You slid down the front of his body as he set you back to your feet. Once you were safely on the ground, he kept his hands on your waist as you looked up at him. You smirked at him and batted your eyelashes innocently. He groaned low in his throat and leaned down so his mouth was even with your ear. “You’re killin me sweetheart.” He rose back up to his full height and looked down at you. His eyes raked over your whole body and you flushed and bit down on the corner of your bottom lip. “Fucking hell.” He growled.

He picked you up, tossed you over his shoulder and made a beeline for the door. You squealed.

He snagged your coats off the back of his chair as you passed the table that everyone was sitting at.

“Got someplace to be, Barnes?” Natasha crooned as Bucky rushed past where she now sat next to Steve.

You blushed and giggled, waving to everyone from your place on Bucky’s shoulder as he continued out the door, not slowing down for anything.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind you he dropped you back on your feet and roughly grabbed both sides of your head, crashing his lips against yours. You pressed your body against his, your hands grabbing two fistfuls of his t-shirt and yanking. You wanted him closer.

He finally ripped his mouth from yours and stared down at you as his chest rose and fell rapidly, he was as out of breath as you were. “I love you.” He breathed.

You didn’t answer him. He knew.

You just launched yourself into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist and your hands tangling in the ends of his hair when it curled against the back of his neck. You dragged his lips back to yours. His hands caught you around the waist, his metal arm lowering down to hold you under your hips and keep you from slipping.He started to walk you backwards toward where his bike was parked across the parking lot.

You devoured him, nipping at his bottom lip and running your hands through his hair. You had one hand gripping the back of his neck to keep him from moving too far away from you.

Suddenly you heard a voice call out from near the door of the bar. Sam, standing on his own with a pair of iron legs assisting. “Fucking nasty. Get a room!”

You heard the chorus of chuckles from your friends, your family, as they all spilled out the door of the bar.

Bucky pulled his head back just enough so that there was enough space between you that he could yell back “Trying to!” before smashing your lips back to his.

Once he reached his bike, he set you down before quickly mounting the bike and hitting the kickstand. As soon as he was stable you giggled and jumped on the back, wrapping yourself around him and burying your face into his neck.

He revved the engine twice, yelled “hold on” over his shoulder and took off.

You lifted your head to look at everyone as Bucky ripped out of the parking lot. A huge grin on your face, you lifted a hand to wave at your family. You could just make out the sound of Nat yelling “See you at home!” At the same time that Sam yelled “I’m gonna need a different floor to sleep on tonight.”

You giggled again and faced forward in the seat, squeezing Bucky again as he turned onto the asphalt and hit the gas.

You hurtled down the road toward the compound.

As you were flying down the asphalt you decided that you were going to finally just start living without fear that someone was going to take it away from you. The fresh air was pelting your face and it was so strong it wiped away any doubt. It wiped away the thought that you didn’t deserve to have moments like this.

You wanted to feel it all. The pain of the whipping wind, the sting of the air on your eyes, the smell of gasoline in your nose.

You wanted to feel every moment you could with Bucky. The good, the bad and the boring. You wanted to spend time with your family and be there for every moment in their lives and never miss a month with them again.

You wanted to be totally free.

You started to peel your arms away from Bucky’s chest. One of his hands left the handlebars and he grabbed your wrist.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I wanna feel the wind!” You yelled back. “I wanna feel everything, Bucky.”

He paused only a second before patting your wrist twice, and dropping his hand to your thigh to hold on to you. You squeezed your legs together, gripping him tighter as you released your hands from his waist, slowly lifting them so that they were above your head.

Your hair was flying wildly around your head and the only things you could hear were the sound of the engine and the wind. It was the most amazing feeling in the whole world.

You let out a loud whoop as you just let yourself go, laughing at how absolutely wonderful it was to just feel.

Against your chest you could feel Bucky’s back rumble as he laughed with you. He squeezed your knee once, put his hand back on the handlebars and pushed the bike a little faster.

You wanted this forever.

Just you, your man and the wind.

@vicmc624

@austynparksandpizza

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky #bucky fluff

[sadaboutniall]

Without Fear

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hiya! since tomorrow is thanksgiving I thought it would be better for everyone if I posted this week’s chapter today! hope you like!

Chapter Two. February 

give me moonlight, and a smile from you that I can // that I can barely believe — dancing under red skies, dermot kennedy

It comes on slow, the way waves lap up against the shore late at night, when there aren’t many boats out to disrupt them. Over and over, bit by bit, it settles in. The first wave of it bites at Lu’s ankles when her toilet overflows at 6am, leaving her standing in her socks in the bathroom, soaking wet, worrying about the water leaking into the shop below, while Ruairí meows in concern from his spot atop the sink. Frantic, Lu calls her dad, and it goes to voicemail twice before she remembers it’s 1am in New York. 

Accompanied only by a YouTube tutorial and the rising sun, Lu manages to fix the mess, shower, and start the day all on her own. Her dad calls back five hours later, and Lu feels like she’s lived a whole lifetime between then and now. 

The second wave of it has more venom. She sleeps in on a Sunday—the only day the shop is closed—stirring around 10 because Ruairí is relentless, screeching in her ear, kneading at her belly, desperate for something to eat. Mindless, she feeds him, freshens up his water, makes herself a cup of coffee, pulls out a pastry leftover from Siobhan’s bake the day before, and settles into a spot by the window of her flat, overlooking the sea, all before thinking to take a look at her phone. 

Even if she goes 12 hours without looking at her phone, Lu finds she doesn’t miss much these days—she left home on a whim, without a ton of fanfare, and knows full well that she isn’t putting in the effort she should to keep in touch with friends from home. She also knows that’s why she left.

So, most mornings, she wakes up to a few messages in the family group chat, a message or two from her best friend Georgia, and not much else. This morning, it’s different. 

208 texts. 12 missed calls. 

Lu’s stomach sinks like a stone. Her whole body heats up at once. Her hands start shaking and her heart starts hammering, all before she even manages to swipe open a single notification. 

She doesn’t even have the wherewithal to cycle through possibilities. Her brain, hitting overdrive from the start, has no question that it’s bad. 

In WhatsApp, Lu finds that her family group chat has 206 messages. She has one separate text from her dad, and a final separate text from her brother. Nothing from her mom. 

Shaking, she swipes open her dad’s first. On the counter, Ruairí is sniffing at a banana. 

Hi, love, his message says. Figured the number of messages in the group chat is overwhelming. We’re at the hospital with Sam now. All is well, the appendix is out and he’s resting. Mary’s with us, she got back from Honduras yesterday. Good timing. Give us a call when you get a chance. 

From her brother, Lu finds a selfie. He’s in a hospital bed, gown around his shoulders. He looks pale, dark circles around his eyes, but he’s okay—he’s smiling, giving the camera a thumbs up. Underneath, the message says I lived, bitch. 

Relief coursing through her, Lu lets out a shaky laugh. It’s scarily on-brand for Sam to pull out a meme at a moment like this. 

Slowly but surely, Lu’s heartbeat slows to its normal rate. As it does, she scrolls back through the messages from the night before: her brother raising the alarm that he had a pesky pain in his side, their mother, a doctor herself, urging him to get it checked out. There’s a moment where Sam says the doctor is sending him home, and another where their mom urges him to demand an ultrasound, just in case. He does, and they find the appendicitis. Lu shudders to think what would’ve happened had her mother been the one sleeping soundlessly an ocean away. 

It’s five am in New York. Lu figures they’re all shattered. Rather than call and risk waking everyone up after what was surely a late, long night, Lu shoots off a text to her dad, asking him to call her when they wake up and sending lots of love. She turns her ringer up all the way so she won’t miss anything else. She feels a million miles away. 

####

On February first, Lu wakes up in a cold sweat. It’s still dark outside, but that doesn’t mean much in a place where the sun doesn’t rise until nearly 9am. Still, Lu doesn’t even need to look at a clock to know it must be early: perched on the pillow next to her head, Ruairí is snoring gently, dead to the world, not yet ready to demand breakfast. 

Heart hammering, Lu gropes around the bed until her hand closes around her phone, cold. She squints, then sighs, as she checks the time.

4:45am. 

Lu is no stranger to waking up mid-panic attack. Sometimes, it feels like choking—like she can’t get a breath down deep enough, to pool in the bottom of her lungs. Other times, it feels like an unavoidable urge to get up, move, get as far away from the space she woke up in as physically possible. Right now, it feels like a stomach ache, period pains, itchy skin, her body trying to tell her that something, somewhere, is going terribly wrong. 

Logically, she knows it’s not. She holds her breath, five, four, three, two, one, and checks her phone as her heart jackrabbits away. Nothing out of the ordinary: her mom texted a picture of her glass of wine with dinner to the family group chat, her dad reported the score of a soccer game, her brother sent that he’d managed to run a full two miles today, his furthest since the appendectomy. Everything is fine. 

Except for Lu. 

There’s no use trying to go back to sleep; Lu knows herself better than that. Heart still working overtime despite reassurance, she slips out of bed as gently as she can, praying that she won’t wake Ruairí. She’s silent as she gets dressed and silent as she tiptoes out of her bedroom, out of the apartment, and down the stairs. The morning is still and dark, but you can hear for miles and miles on Inis Mór, and as she begins her walk the soft, familiar sounds of tractors roaring to life, cows mooing for their breakfast, sheep and goats bleating, remind Lu that she’s not the only one—that others are here too, alive, beginning their day, pushing on. Home. And underneath it all, there is, always, the sound of the waves, constant, crashing against the shore. 

####

Lu doesn’t get a chance to nap. She walks, balancing on the edge of the cliffs that overlook the Atlantic, breathing in the sea air and thinking about how the water here, crashing, violent against the cliffs below her is the same water that once lapped up on the shores of Long Island, of Coney Island, of the Rockaways, of home. Seagulls swoop, low and graceful, over her head, over the ocean, and Lu thinks that if she asked her dad to drop a floatie into the Atlantic for her it just might make it—just might wash up here, on the edge of the Earth, the way she has. 

She walks and walks—you can walk all the way around Inis Mór and back in under five hours, but she doesn’t have that kind of time. She walks along the cliffs, the white, blinding, otherworldly geology of the Burren, through the grass and the mud and the cow shit, until she’s back at the cafe, windows glowing golden against the rising sun, condensation clinging to them from the inside. Siobhan is pulling pastries out of the oven when she opens the door around 6:30, and Ruairí, curled up on the counter, looks at her, bitter. 

Siobhan smiles, “There you are. No worries, pet, I’ve fed him his breakfast.” 

She wobbles through the day, exhausted from the panic, the walk, the lack of sleep. She messes up at least two orders—gives Mrs. Duffy whole milk instead of skim, drops Mr. Kennedy’s sandwich on the floor while she’s bringing it over to him—but, as always, no one bats an eye. They touch her arm gently, lull “oh, it’s no bother, darling, we’ll make it right, now,” and the cadence of their laughter carries as she does exactly that. There’s no venom, no rush, nothing to give Lu the adrenaline she so badly needs to make it through the day. 

Somehow, she almost forgets that it’s Niall’s first day. But all of a sudden it’s twelve hours later and he’s bustling inside, bringing a rush of cold air with him. The door swings shut behind him and Lu, who had been curled up at the cushioned window seat with Ruairí on top of her in a moment of quiet, jumps. The cat’s only just forgiven her for this morning, and her movement causes him to stalk off in anger. She sighs after him.

“Oh, no,” Niall laughs a little, “sorry, did I interrupt something?” He looks soft and sweet in his dark jeans, his hat pulled low over his forehead. He’s shedding his puffer jacket to reveal a navy blue cable knit sweater and his cheeks are flushed from the cold. His eyes, bright and blue as Lu remembers them, find hers. He smiles. 

“Yeah,” Lu just about manages. “He just forgave me, you totally ruined it.”

Niall barks out a laugh, head thrown back, shoulders hunching up. “What did you do?” 

“Forgot to feed him breakfast this morning,” Lu sighs. “Siobhan did it, but he held it against me anyway.” 

“Ah, well,” Niall shrugs. “I’d be mad too, if I were a cat.” 

“S’a good thing you’re not, then,” Lu smiles. “I’m not here to feed you.” 

Niall’s still giggling. Lu wonders if he ever stops. 

“I’m thinking I might make him pupcakes or something as an apology…” Lu is rambling a bit now, but she’s so tired, and Niall’s so cute, and nothing is real here, anyway. “I know they’re for dogs but I can’t imagine they’re bad for cats? I bet he’ll like those—honestly, I bet he’ll just like knowing I slaved over a hot stove for him. It’s like he can tell, you know?” 

It wasn’t meant to be that funny, but Niall is fully cackling, crinkles by his eyes on full display, one hand clutching his tummy. “You’re funny,” he says between laughs. “A bit looney, me da would say—hey, Lu, looney, Looney Tunes. It all makes sense.” 

“Isn’t ‘looney’ offensive?” The banter with him comes so easily, Lu doesn’t let herself overthink it. “Think we’re supposed to stop using it.” 

“Ah, well,” Niall’s pulling his guitar out to tune, now, “You’re in Ireland now, love. All good nicknames are a little offensive.”

####

The night is mostly quiet, a dozen customers at the most, which Lu thinks is probably good for Niall’s nerves. He’s just as stunning as he was the night Lu first met him, pulling out an arsenal of covers ranging from Bruce Springsteen to Post Malone, somehow making them all work for his voice, for the vibe, for everyone, but he’s shaking—she can see it when he pushes his hair off his forehead, or when he drops his pick on the floor between songs, laughing awkwardly as he bends to grab it. Even with the mistakes, the dropped pick, the few stumbles over lyrics, he’s endearing, engaging, all-consuming. Lu’s meant to be working, but she can’t find it in her to look away.

From her spot at the counter, Lu watches how Niall keeps his eyes trained on the window across from him. He doesn’t seem to be looking for anyone or anything, but Lu suspects it’s easier than looking his audience in the eye—despite the fact that she can see for herself just how captivated they are. It shouldn’t take an hour and a half to drink one coffee and eat one slice of chocolate cake, but that’s how long old Mr. Kane spends in the shop anyway, eyes closed, listening to Niall play. 

For two full hours, Niall keeps the shop warm and alive. Everyone is so captivated that Lu barely has to work after all; she leans up against the counter instead, cradling the mug of hot chocolate that Siobhan made her before she left for the night, and taking him in. She barely knows him, and yet. 

Lu has seen plenty of nervous first-timers performing in front of apathetic crowds—it was practically her job, after all. She’s also seen more than her fair share of world class performers stunning crowds that want to eat them up, keep them on stage forever, bottle their energy and carry it through the rest of their lives. Working in the music industry, even just as an assistant, for five years turned her hard and jaded, made her feel like she’s seen the seedy, rough, rude underbelly of it all—but she’s never seen anyone perform like Niall before. His unadulterated, all consuming love for music is tangible, even from across the room. This is now Niall communicates. This is how he understands the world. This is how he sees life. Half of Lu feels lucky to hear it—the other half feels sick knowing that his talent is wasted here.

It almost makes her sad to have to close up at 9. Niall’s good about it—he’s designed his set to last exactly two hours, finds a climax in the middle with “Dancing in the Dark” and tapers his song choices toward a slow but steady ending, letting everyone know, without having to say it, that it’s time to head home. Lu doesn’t even have to ask him if he knows how to play “Closing Time.” 

Mr. Kane is the last to leave, sticking around a little after nine to shake Niall’s hand and tell him he had no idea how talented Maura’s son is. He talks about Maura—Lu assumes she must be Niall’s mom—while Lu slowly, quietly begins putting dishes away. She likes the routine of this already, Niall’s quiet voice, his booming laugh, his warm presence keeping her company while she settles down for the night. It’s something she could get used to. It’s something, the first thing, she thinks she could miss, if she left. 

Niall masterfully leads his conversation with Mr. Kane toward goodbyes, shaking his hand again as he shuts the door behind him. Lu looks up from where she was rinsing a cup to watch as Niall watches through the window to make sure Mr. Kane gets in his car. He waits for the car to start before turning around, leaning his back up against the door, dragging a hand through his hair, and letting out a long sigh. 

“Alright?” Lu asks, gentle. Niall’s got his eyes closed, his head back, neck exposed to her. It’s thick and littered with freckles, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. In her chest, Lu’s heart does something funny. She presses her thighs together, tight. 

Niall opens his eyes halfway, exhaling a little laugh as he meets Lu’s gaze. She hopes he can’t tell—how could he? 

“Yeah,” he says then, standing all the way up and shaking his head. “That was mad.” 

“It was amazing,” Lu counters. She gently places the mug back into the sink, bracing her hands against the edge. Part of her is afraid of what she’ll do without something between him and her. “They were so into it. No one could look away from you.”

Her cheeks flush, and Niall catches it. The corner of his mouth pulls up in half a smile as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “Ya think so?” 

“I know so,” Lu presses her lips together, but it doesn’t do much to prevent her smile. “‘Dancing In The Dark’ was my favorite one; it’s perfect for your voice.” 

“Thanks, Looney Tunes,” Niall hums, making his way back over toward her. “Can I help ya clean up? I wash, you dry?”

“Oh,” Lu stills. She’d half forgotten about the dishes still left to clean, the floor to sweep, the leftovers to toss, the counters to wipe down. Her mind stumbles over the best way to go about this: it would be rude to keep him, but, God, she wants his company. She realizes, with a slight swoop in her belly, that she hasn’t felt homesick in two hours. She needs him to stay. “I actually—I have a dishwasher. I just like to rinse everything before I put it in.” 

Niall smiles. He comes around the counter to stand next to Lu at the sink, knocking his hip against hers. “Sensible,” he says. It’s quiet. Just for her. “I’ll rinse and put ‘em in. You’ve been stood here all night. What else do you have to do?” 

“Uh,” Lu feels like her whole body is vibrating. Her mind turns over itself like an engine that won’t start. “Sweep the floors, wipe down the counters, lock up.” 

“Alright,” Niall is so close that Lu can smell his aftershave. Warm, soft, mixed with sweat from his nerves and the smell of his skin. “Let’s do it.”

####

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#one direction #1dff #one direction fan fiction #niall horan #niall horan fic #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan imagine #niall #without fear

[claudiasjeancregg]

also, 48 for joshdonna? for the intimacy prompts? <3

48. offering the other your coat

Josh Lyman/Donna Moss (2.1k words) 

posted on ao3 here

engraved upon my heart (in letters deeply worn)

Donna can feel the bitter chill against her skin as she slips out of the house. She presses the phone to her ear, waiting for Josh to pick up.

She wouldn’t usually go outside to talk on the phone- it’s D.C. in February, and she’d rather not catch a cold for no reason. But Noah’s already asleep and Jo has a geometry test tomorrow, so she’s trying not to make too much noise. Not that they’re disturbed very easily- especially not Jo. Once she gets started with something, it’s almost impossible to pull her away from it. Donna and Noah call it “laser focus.” She gets it from Josh, though he claims to have perfected the whole “work life balance” thing. It doesn't surprise Donna in the least- the list of traits the two of them share is a mile long. And having such a good work ethic has always helped her, especially now that she’s in 8th grade.

Damn.

She feels old all of a sudden, wishing Josh would pick up so she has someone to complain to.

The repetitive ringing drones on in her ear for a long moment before he answers and it stops. Donna has to hide her smile at the noises coming from Josh’s end- he sounds out of breath, like he’s on a jog or something. But it’s 9 P.M., and he’s on the campaign trail, so it’s most definitely not that.

“Wait-”

Something, probably the phone, crashes to the ground. She can hear him cursing under his breath. After a moment, he picks it back up.

“Are the kids okay? Are you okay?”

“What?”  She looks around for a place to sit, settling on the front porch step. She can hear him moving around, probably on the bus or in his office. She has no idea where they are today- maybe Maryland? California? She remembers Josh talking about touching base at home states, but she doesn’t have the energy to figure out what exactly he was saying.

“It’s late. You’re usually in bed by now, all cozied up with a book and a little fluffy robe.”

“A robe?” she teases.

“Well, you know,” he amends. “My sweatshirt and a pile of briefing memos.”

She shakes her head fondly before remembering he can’t see her.

“The kids are- I’m- we’re all fine. And it’s 9, Josh. I’m never in bed by now.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

He pauses, and all of the movement on his end stops too.

“Hi,” he says.

She can hear his smile, and can’t help but smile back. “Hey.”

Donna huffs out a laugh at the absurdity of it all- they’re married, for God’s sakes, but he can still make her smile like an idiot for no reason. It still shakes her to her core, everytime they say “I love you” or they talk about the kids.

This is her life. Their life. They’ve built a life together, a far cry from the too-long glances and energetic banter of the White House days. They’re calmer, now- older and wiser and steady. But she loves him just as much as she ever has.

He used to be a whirlwind of motion that she couldn’t help but get sucked into, constantly talking and working and creating and never standing still. But somewhere along the line, between the hushed conversations in hospital rooms and the way his hand molded to the small of her back, he became her home. His love is the feeling in her chest when she watches him with the kids, the weight of a hand in hers whenever she has a nightmare about Gaza, the constant support when she talks about a new project she’s working on.

And he’s a jackass sometimes, obviously, but he never does anything to hurt her on purpose. And when he says something that makes her want to slap him, his eyes get wide and he frantically apologizes, begging her not to cry.

One of the things she’s learned since they first started dating is that her tears are his worst nightmare. She asked him why, once. “It feels like my heart is being ripped out of my chest,” he said. She almost stopped breathing. He turned bright red as soon as he said it, but still. They’ve settled into this thing, this domestic life that she never imagined he would want. Or that she would, honestly.

“Donna? You there?”

She snaps back to the present- “Yeah. Sorry. How’s it going? You guys are in Maryland now, right?”

He updates her on how their polls have been looking since they got to the state and she listens intently.

“How are Andy’s approval ratings? You’re right to keep Toby behind the scenes- I bet he’s going crazy.”

Josh relays a story from earlier that day about Toby throwing a fit because Andy refuses to let him write for her. He can barely stop laughing long enough to tell her, but she doesn’t mind.

“I should call her,” she muses.

The two of them grew closer after Gaza- once Andy got over the guilt and the absurd worry that Donna blamed her for the accident, they became fast friends. She’d always admired Andy- the woman had made driving Toby out of his mind into an art form, not to mention how damn good she was at her job. And as soon as they had been tasked with finding possible VPs, Andy was Donna’s first call.

“Yeah, I think she’s a bit tired of all the testosterone here now that you’ve gone.”

He laughs, and Donna can feel the ache in her stomach. She wishes he was here, or that she was there- it’s nice to have a break from work for a while, but she’d grown used to the pace of the campaign trail. There’s so much to do all the time, and so much to learn. Donna knows how to run a campaign, of course, but re-election was nothing like this campaign. This is new, and fun and exciting- and extremely hard. Putting a young, up-and-coming candidate in office is a whole different ball game, and she has a front row seat. She still misses the frantic pace of the White House from time to time, but what she’s doing now is so much more fulfilling. She has the power to change the country- or to give them a President who could, at least.

It’s the kind of job Donna from twenty years ago didn't know existed, and the kind of job Donna from ten years ago wouldn't dream of.

She’s no longer an also-dead- she’ll get her own damn obituary. She’s gotten past all of the struggles and the self-doubt, and now she’s putting one of her best friends in the White House.

Sam Seaborn as President.

The victory is a long time away, she knows- both Toby and Josh would make her go outside, turn around, and spit if they knew she was thinking about it, but she can’t help it. President Sam Seaborn. It’s a bright, shining light at the end of the tunnel. That’s why she’s doing this- for Sam, for her friends, for her country. For anyone and everyone who deserves a President that cares about them- she’s working her hardest to make sure they get him. That’s what makes this all worth it.

That thought reminds her why she called in the first place- she waits for Josh to finish what he’s telling her about Andy’s speech today.

“Have the results come in yet?”

“No, and you know what I was thinking?”

“Josh, I’m not going to talk to the Flenders again.”

“Donna!”

She can picture him vividly- pacing around his office, the same pouting look on his face that he always gets when he whines.

“I’m not your assistant anymore, Josh. I’m your wife- and your co-campaign manager. Get someone else to do your illegal activities.”

She expects him to complain some more, but instead his voice grows soft.

“I can’t,” he says.

She lets out a breathy laugh, trying to hide her reaction at the tone of his voice.

“Josh, I’m serious. I have enough work to do.”

Her stomach is on a roller coaster ride as his voice fills her ear. She’s taken back to Inauguration Day, years ago- sitting on his lap as they both tried to keep the inevitable from happening. He had whispered in her ear the entire cab ride from her apartment, hands resting on her waist in a manner that wasn’t remotely professional. The way his touch had felt that night- and later, when they danced together- had filled her thoughts for weeks after.

“No, I mean-” he laughs sheepishly and she can picture exactly how he looks on the other side of the phone.

“No one’s here to ask. Or, I’m not there to ask them, I guess.”

Donna’s eyebrows knit together.

“What do you-”

“Turn around.”

He interrupts her, the big smile on his face easy to hear.

She does, still confused, and drops the phone. Josh is leaning against the porch column, exactly how she had pictured him. Donna stands there for a minute, dumbstruck. Then she races over to him, enveloping him in a hug.

God, she’s missed this- the way his body instantly reacts to hers, the way he can’t seem to hold her tight enough. She can’t believe he just showed up here. She pulls out from the hug and he groans, like a five year old who just got his toy taken away. She would know- that’s exactly what Noah looked like whenever that happened to him.

“Joshua!!”

His pout turns into a wide-eyed expression immediately.

“How are you mad at me for this?” Josh asks incredulously, ducking to avoid the punch on the arm he knows is coming his way.

“It’s the first day of the primaries! You shouldn’t be here, you should be having a panic attack in your office over the Hartsfield’s Landing results!”

He reaches his hands out for her waist.

“I wanted to have a panic attack here.”

She gives into his touch, wrapping herself in Josh’s arms like a blanket.

“Okay,” she smiles.

He does not. “Jesus, Donna, you’re freezing!”

He rubs his hands up and down her arms, like he thinks he can warm her entire body up himself. He probably does- knowing Josh, it’s not out of the realm of possibility. She places her hands on his like an anchor, calming him.

“I’m fine!”

The goosebumps on her arms betray her, though, and Josh barely hesitates before whipping off his coat and handing it to her.

“Thank you,” she whispers as he wraps it around her tightly. It still catches her by surprise, sometimes. He knows her, inside and out- like the map of her heart was given to him long ago, and he’s memorized in by now.. He can always see right through her lies or false reassurances, like no one else can. Somehow, he always knows what she needs- even when she’s too stubborn to ask.

He buries his head in the nape of her neck, his arms secure around her waist. She laughs at how affectionate he’s being- before they started dating, she would have never guessed how much he loves to touch her. Gently touching her knee on the bus, squeezing her hand as they walk, holding her in his arms every night- he always wants to know she’s there, that she’s still with him. It’s one of her favorite things about him.

Donna leans into his arms and takes a deep breath, savoring the cold air. She’s always loved this time of year. It always used to remind her of growing up, of playing in the snow with her older sister while their parents watched in the back. But now it reminds her of winter at the White House, too- of thoughtful gifts and failed vacations and Josh, and Josh, and Josh.

She had always been with him when it was coldest. Somehow, it felt right that he was standing next to her now.

Donna turns around, framing Josh’s face with her cold hands. She presses her lips to his for a moment. It’s been almost 15 years of moments like this, and she isn’t tired of it. She’s not tired of him, of kissing him and talking to him and waking up next to him every single morning. And she never would.

“Thank you,” she whispers against his lips. She walks to the front door, pulling his coat tighter around her.

“At least this time I didn't have to steal your coat,” she teases.

Josh rolls his eyes, but doesn’t move.

“You didn't steal it,” he says.

She stares at him. He rubs his head awkwardly.

“I, uh- I left it there on purpose. Your coat sucked.”

She can feel her eyes growing wet.

“Donna, please don't-”

“Joshua!!”

She dabs at her eyes, trying not to cry. It isn’t the nicest thing he has ever done for her, not even close. And it was almost twenty years ago, but still. She takes a deep breath and grabs his hand, pulling him inside.

“Come on. Hartsfield votes in a few minutes.”

As they walk towards the house, hand in hand, it starts to snow.

this took a million years and i’m so sorry. this turned into something WAY beyond what i meant it to be lol- but i’m OBSESSED with this universe. and you BET i have ideas for all the other characters. 

so basically- sam is running for president, josh and donna are co-campaign managers bc one of them works in DC and stays with the kids, and then the other one comes back from the campaign trail and they switch off. this takes place on the first night of the primaries- so it’s like “hartsfield’s landing” but 18-ish years later. 

andy wyatt is the VP candidate!! is this extremely random? yes! but i love her to pieces SO. 

what else... cj and toby both work with them on this campaign. there may or may not be some cj/toby in this- or some ot3, i need advice!!! 

oh and before josh decided to run sam’s campaign, he was retired and was living the good life as a stay at home dad. jo and noah (YES FOR JOANIE AND JOSH’S DAD, LET ME HAVE MY ANGST) are 13 and 10, respectively. donna was working somewhere very important- i think she was working as a senator’s COS, then she moved to a policy center that focuses on women’s rights and outreach in foreign countries. 

title from “fair” by the amazing devil: this song is everything good in the universe and i’m obsessed with it. PLEASE everyone- go listen to it and come back and TELL ME it doesn’t give you soft josh/donna feelings. and just... feelings in general.

ANYWAY hope you enjoyed!!! i’m kind of incapable of writing good fluff but i really really really hope this was a good choice for this prompt- it felt fitting with the reunion and all :DDD 

thank you for the prompt!!

#aleena answers #writing tag #my fic #tww fic #tww #the west wing #donna x josh #josh x donna #tww post-canon