#his sister’s husband showed up and tried jumping it with his van and then asked to see something
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I stood out in the cold for an hour after work with all the guys from the kitchen, trying to jump Aldo’s battery because his car wouldn’t start. At one point a cop pulled up and was like, “You guys good? Dead battery?” Gabe said yeah and the cop went, “Good luck” and drove away. I was like “that was helpful :). Thanks for serving your community :).” Oscar said, “Gracias, Mr. Police. I pay taxes :)”
#it turns out aldo had the car in the wrong gear or something when we were trying to jump it??#his sister’s husband showed up and tried jumping it with his van and then asked to see something#he got in aldo’s car and shifted gears and it IMMEDIATELY turned on#they were tearing aldo’s ass UP in spanish i was like damn r.i.p. aldo#when i was leaving gabe was like ‘thanks for staying’ and i was like ‘yeah no problem i wanted to make sure everything was okay’#he said ‘this is why you’re the kitchen’s favorite server. don’t tell anyone else’#which made my NIGHT#it possibly even made my week
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expect the unexpected | 3
“Minseok! Soojin! Time to go!” you yell, checking your phone for the time. With three kids, it’s always a struggle in the morning. But you all manage to get things done and going.
You turn your head to see if the kids were coming out of their rooms yet but the first one you saw out was your youngest son. He smiled up at you right when he saw you looking and you laughed, pointing behind him.
“Can you call your brother and sister please? They’re going to be late for school.” Haneul turns around and runs to his brother’s room and yells ‘mommy says wet’s go!’ and then runs across to the other room to yell the same thing to his sister. Who you hear scream ‘I’M COMING!’
“Are you ready?” Jin says, walking up behind you. You both had a free morning so the two of you decided to take Haneul out on a little date while his older siblings were in school. You haven’t asked him where he wanted to go, but knowing your son, his ideal date would be auntie Sohyun’s bakery and the playground. It’s all a three ish year old wants.
“I’ve been since 6:30,” you replied. “KIDS LET’S GO,” you yell one more time. Now the two finally came running to the front door with their backpacks on.
“Got everything?” Jin asks.
“Yes!” Soojin yells, grabbing the door knob and walking out, followed by her older brother.
“Yeah we got everything,” Minseok replies. Haneul watches the two walk away and looks up at you.
“Where’s mine,” he says in a little voice, patting his shoulders.
“You’ll grow broad shoulders like mine when you’re older,” Jin says, “let’s go, Minseok and Soojin are going to be late.” Both you and Haneul held the same expression as you frowned up at him.
“Honey, he’s talking about his backpack,” you tell him, pointing to Haneul’s backpack that was hung up by the door.
“I knew that!.. I was just--,” Jin replies, grabbing the bag and handing it to his son, “here.”
-
“Be good like always, we’ll see you later okay?” you tell your kids as you drop them off.
Minseok and Soojin give you and Jin a kiss before getting out of the van.
“Bye bye,” Haneul waves, Soojin and Minseok hug and kiss him goodbye too.
You lowered down the window and yelled, “Love you!” as they walk away from the van.
“Love you too!” They yelled back, waving at you and Jin. Jin leans over you and yells out your open window.
“SOOJIN-AH MAKE SURE YOU STAY AWAY FROM BOYS!” Jin yells. Your eyes widen and you push Jin away.
“Shh--”
“REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED TO HANA--”
“JIN!”
“I only like Yeonjun oppa!” Soojin yells back. Jin’s eyes widens.
“YAH!”
“Uncle secretary strikes again,” you laugh. “Calm down and let’s go, Haneul’s getting hungry.”
“That’s it, I’m grounding her until she’s married.”
“You’re letting her get married?” You ask. “I’m surprised you’re even going to let her date.”
“She can date.”
“And when will that start?”
“After she’s married of course.”
Haneul tilts his head. “What?”
-
“Auntie Sohu!” Haneul yells as soon as Jin opens the door to the very iconic, 24/7 Heaven.
“Oh Haneul you’re back!” Sohyun happily says, stepping out of the counter to greet you three.
She kneels down to Haneul’s level and he runs to give her a hug.
“I have money,” your son says with a smug smile, slightly pulling away from Sohyun to show her his ₩10,000. Sohyun laughs, standing up straight.
“Wow! Go ahead and get whatever you want then,” she says, Haneul immediately runs off, grabbing a tray from the counter.
It was a bit high for him but with some tippy toeing and a few jumps, he was able to grab one on his own.
“Wah, I wonder where he gets that appetite from,” Jin says, shaking his head. You look at him, furrowing your brows as you see him with a tray of his own, already piled on with a few pastries.
“When did you get that we just got here?” you ask. Sohyun laughs, walking away from the two of you and following Haneul.
“Is there anything special you want Haneul-ah~” she asks, bending down to Haneul’s height as he looked through the glass case filled with pretty and cute cakes.
Your son smiles and points to a chocolate cake.
“Haneul I don’t think your money can pay for a whole cake, maybe just a slice?” you say, walking up to him.
“Just one?” he asks you, looking up at you with those puppy eyes. You smirk, reaching out to ruffle his hair.
“Those eyes don’t work on me any more buddy, your siblings overused that already.” He pouts, turning back to the cake.
“Just a wittle one please,” he tells Sohyun. She laughs, getting up to go get his little request.
“You got it,” she says.
“Is Yoongi in the back?” Jin asks, putting his tray on the counter, ready to pay. Sohyun shakes his head.
“He’s at his studio. He might be busy for a while, rumor has it, he has a popular celebrity that came by the other day that wants to work with him… but you didn’t hear that from me,” she winks. You put your hand over your mouth.
“Omo.. is it someone we know?” You ask. Sohyun, disappears behind the counter to get the cake slice for Haneul.
“Yeah I want to know too,” Jin says, you both wait for Sohyun to answer. She laughs when she turns around and faces you two, seeing your dumbfounded expressions.
“I would love to tell you,” she says and you both lean in to hear what she says next. “But that jerk won’t tell me either,” she rolls her eyes slightly. “All he told me was that he won’t be working as often in the bakery because of it.”
“Aww,” you pout, “that’s so cool though, imagine being surrounded by a celebrity all the time?” Jin frowns down at you.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he replies, “so is it just you right now?” The bakery wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t busy either. So you weren’t too surprised that it’s just Sohyun working this morning. As of now, it’s just your family, a couple sitting by the window, and a couple of university students.
“No, Rina is in the kitchen and Taehyung should be coming in soon,” she says.
“Oh Rina is here?” you say happily, stretching your head to the side. Sohyun smiles at you nodding.
“Auntie my cakkee~” Haneul whines, placing his tray on the counter as well. You and Jin got caught up with your friend that you forgot why you were there in the first place.
“Oh, sorry baby,” you say sheepishly. Jin bends down to pick him up, having him sit on his hip.
“You have your money?” Jin asks, looking at his son and brushing his hair back. Haneul digs into his pocket, taking out his money, waving it around.
“Let me just ring this up,” Sohyun says, she then looks up at you, “do you want anything Yn?”
“Oh, yeah, just a mocha latte please,” you say, your best friend nods, punching in the numbers.
While Jin and Haneul pay for their food, Rina comes out from the kitchen and instantly lights up when she sees you three.
“Auntie Rin!” Haneul yells, pointing at Rina.
“Hi buddy! Are you having a date with mommy and daddy?” Rina asks. Haneul nods his head, smiling at her.
“Hey, can you make a mocha latte for Yn?” Sohyun asks as she packs the food into boxes.
“Sure thing, what size?”
“Just a regular,” Sohyun responds, handing you the box full of the pastries your boys chose.
“Thank you~”
-
The three of you were now at the playground at the kids’ favorite park, the one by the bakery. You and Jin sat on the bench, eating croissants and drinking coffee while Haneul made friends on the playground.
“Can I have a bite?” You ask your husband, already opening your mouth. He brings a hand up to brush your hair away, before giving you a bite of his croissant.
“You literally have one for yourself in your hand,” he says, as you take two big bites of his.
“But yours is ham and cheese, mine is chocolate,” you say, mouth full.
“After 18 years of being together, you’d think I’d learn to buy two of each,” he says, eating the rest of his food. You crinkle your nose.
“Saying the years make us sound so old. Our dating anniversary is a whole adult,” you say, eyes widening. Jin laughs at you, turning to grab a napkin.
“Well I just like to remind myself that we started dating young and that we have a three year old to not make it seem like we’re so old,” he says, putting a hand on your chin and wiping the sides of your mouth. “I feel like I have another child,” he mumbles. You frown at him pushing his hand away.
“Says you.”
“Daddy!” Haneul calls as he runs to the two of you. It looked like his friends had left with their parents already. Jin dusts off his hands and wipes his mouth as he gets up from his seat.
“What is it buddy?” he says as he picks up Haneul when he gets to him.
“Swings!” He says, pointing to the empty swing set.
“Okay, let’s go.”
As the boys left for the swings, you got up to throw all your trash away so you could join them.
Jin puts Haneul on one swing as you come running to sit on the other.
“Push us,” you say, looking up at him with a big smile.
“Yeah yeah yeah!” Haneul yells, kicking his feet.
“Okaay~” Jin says, walking up behind you and pushing you off of the swing.
“Jin!” you yell as you stumble onto the floor. He doesn’t help you but instead walks over to Haneul and does the same.
“Hey!” he says, pouting and you don’t know if he’s about to laugh or cry.
“Yah, you said to push you so I did!” Jin says, backing away as he says this. You go over to Haneul and help him up.
“Let’s chase daddy,” you whisper to him. Haneul’s pout turns upwards into a mischievous little smile.
“What?” Jin says, looking at his youngest.
“IMMA GET YOU,” Haneul yells before sprinting off, you run after and the two of you start chasing Jin around the playground.
“Yah, you really think you can get me,” Jin laughs, running faster around the slides and jungle gym. Physically, yes, he’s much taller, has longer legs than the two of you, but was he smarter?
As Jin runs away from Haneul, you run the opposite direction to meet him at the other side as you three are just running in circles.
He wasn’t even looking forward, but laughing as Haneul tried to catch him with his little legs.
You managed to get in front of him without him seeing and you immediately wrap your arms around his torso, pushing your weight against him and bringing him down.
“Mommy got you!” Haneul laughs. Pointing at Jin as he caught up.
“What should his punishment be Haneul?” You ask, sitting on top of your husband. The whole scenery actually was quite strange now that you think about it. You were sitting on top of your husband… near a slide of the children’s playground… asking your three year old for punishment ideas.
Let’s just say good thing the other kids left and it was just you three at the moment.
“Tickle tickle?” Haneul says, his knee bent as he slowly walks towards his dad. Hands up and fingers wiggling.
“Y-yah, don’t get close to me,” Jin says, squirming beneath you. You laugh at Haneul as he creeps closer toward his dad.
“Tickletickletickle,” your son mumbles, tickling his dad’s sides. While Jin is distracted, you slip a hand into his pocket and take his wallet.
“Haneul quick, take this and run!” You say, handing the wallet to your son. You watch Jin’s eyes widen and he pushes you off as soon as Haneul runs off, screaming with his dad’s wallet.
“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH” Jin yells, running after Haneul. You sit there on the floor laughing as you watch them run off, knowing darn well that Haneul was running towards the bakery.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
expect the unexpected
♡ part three: tickle tickle? ♡
pairings: ceo, dad!jin x interior designer, mom!reader
a/n: sorry for the super late update! still struggling in school lol, this update has helped me destress tho?
taglist: @silentlyimpractical @jillianmarie @waddlebby @cecedrake2217 @ddofa @samros95 @sope-and-shine @joonjoonsmiles @codeinebelle @aianloveseven @chamchamcham @princessjazzyjazz @notvantaes @casspirit0705 @ramyagovindraj @brinnalaine @ephyra1230 @betysotelo18 @thoughtfultaledreamer @salty-for-suga @cosmicdaylight @dreamcatcherjiah @kookoo-kachoo @nightapple4jk @josierosie @jayhope88 @butterflylion @hobiismyhopeu @momma-said-that-it-was-oke @shinyplaidbagellamp @catspancake @somewhereofftheglobe @strawberryforever25 @rjsmochii @prdshobi @beeeb05 @eatjeanjin @taekookcaneatme @Cheeely14 @kookietsukkie @anpanman-sonyeondan @glitteringcoffeefreak @chocobetterknot @alpaca1612 @ohmy-fandoms @liljooniecutie @Jikachoo @preciouschimine @fan-ati--c @Joondala @httpmuffin @dammit-jjk @jikooksgirl19
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In the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere ..... Oh the adventures we had with a hooker. All. Night. Long. 😂
It involves me, my husband, our 18 & 3 year old daughters, a cop and the hooker ... oh and a store clerk and her son. And for real. All night from like 12:30am to 7 am. And now I am home, but without the van and three of the kids didn’t make it home with us.
The following story is absolutely, 100% true. Although it’s not the kind of exciting you’re used to hearing from me, it’s still pretty bizarre. 😂
Just to give a little back story to help paint a clear picture .... So, we always go to my in laws for Christmas but we usually only stay maybe 3-6 days or so depending on how things fall together. This year we decided to stay through New Years because of some drama back at our home. My mother lives on our property and is mentally ill, and we’re pretty sure dementia is setting in. She’s never been an easy person to be around and we have always fought constantly but I have tried to take care of her anyway because she’s the only mom I’ve got, ya know? The last couple years though she’s gotten a lot more aggressive. In July she assaulted her doctor over the mask requirement and even had to go to court over it. Then in august she assaulted me, tried to choke me to death in my own home and in front of my kids. Of course I over powered her and forcefully pushed her out of my house, so yes she sustained bruises and such from that but that’s the extent of it. (She told all of Facebook in a public post that I beat her up every day and that kind of thing. She posts almost every day that she’s being abused, etc. Shes called the police at least 4times in three months. She tried to accuse me of elder abuse and even said I neglect and abuse my kids. Four times they have come out and investigated and not only said they see no signs of child or elder abuse, or anything to backup her claims. They talked to the kids and quickly agreed they were all fine too.
So fast forward to Christmas Eve. We were trying to load up the van to leave for our trip. We couldn’t hardly get it done because she was hounding us so much. When we were done I sent the kids to the car while hubby and I grabbed the last few bags. I blinked and she was charging toward the kids and yelling things at them like “you’re going to be a whore like your mom when you grow up. You wanna suck dick for a living?” And “I hope you die slowly and are alone and afraid for hours before you die.” The oldest child there that day was 12. And no, I’ve never worked in prostitution before. She began to charge toward me when I yelled at her to get away from the kids. Hubby told her to go back in her house and she wouldn’t. Kept coming toward us. So he pulled out his pistol, didn’t cock it or anything, and said again to go back in her house. So she called the police again .... 🙄
So we stayed longer trying to talk to the family lawyer and get a game plan. We’re following through with pressing assault charges so I can get a restraining order, and we’re filing for eviction. So we got all packed and ready to go and noticed liquid under the van. The power steering pump went out and the line busted all over everything. So that set us back another couple of days but we got the line and the pump replaced and tested everything and it looked good. It was late but we decided to set out anyway. We knew we’d get in late but the advantage to that was my crazy mother would be asleep and we could at least get in and unload the van in peace.
About 12:30 the battery light came on and we weren’t near ANYTHING. Somehow we made it another 20 miles or so until we got to a small town we’ve never stopped in before. We stopped at a gas station and barely got in the lot when it died. Hubby tinkered with some things and it looks like the alternator. Apparently some power steering fluid got in it when it busted but we couldn’t see that at the time, including the mechanic neighbor friend helping with it.
So we’re an hour and a half from home and totally stranded in the middle of the night with, thankfully, only two of our kids - the 18 & 3 year old. We make the calls for roadside assistance and I begin calling everyone I know that might can come help us. It’s freezing and none of us packed coats because it’s not usually this cold down here this early in winter. Hubby was wearing shorts even. So we take turns going in the store and sitting in the van with our things - there’s a large fully loaded cargo bag on the roof and a bike rack with two bikes on the back. Figured if we left it alone for a long time those things at least would disappear, essentially given the atmosphere of the place.
In all the moving around and the cashier asking questions and getting to know us and the situation we were in, this big eyed, buck toothed, scraggly little older, black lady who looked like she hasn’t bathed in years starts talking to hubby about what’s wrong with the van. He goes back to tinker with it often hoping he’s wrong about the alternator or that he missed a loose connection - anything that might help us get out of here l, if not home. I am watching cars like a hawk because you wouldn’t believe how many would pull in, loop the parking lot while staring at us and leave again. It started feeling like sharks circling and a feeding frenzy building up. So I’m on edge and I make sure the pistol is within reach at all times. So this little trashy lady keeps talking to him about the mechanics and trying to troubleshoot it. Lemme pain a more accurate picture: this spun out little crack whore was chasing the dragon, looking for it inside the oil reserve, the transmission fluid ..... she keeps pulling out the dipsticks, shaking them like a Polaroid picture and slinging fluids everywhere and then says “I think it’s your starter.”
No doubt she’s trying to hustle some cash and once even asked for some gas money when’s we see the car she rode in pull away and leave her there. She said it was her brother. After awhile, hubby has had enough. He’s usually pretty patient with people who are too fucked up to reach reality but this isn’t the time for all that. Not only is she a hindrance, she keeps snatching his tools and once even his phone out of his hands. I was in the car and I heard him yell “carry your ass already!” If he’s talking to even an annoying stranger like that, I know shit is hitting the fan. Me? I’m Irish. I would’ve done popped off at her which is why I was avoiding her completely. So I got out and joined him and started yelling at her to fuck off. She will take a few steps away and come back but she does finally go all the way back in the store, both of us cussing her the whole way. I blink and she back in his face again. She keeps saying random shit like “anything you can do I can do better” and “I helped you and you just turn me away. That’s not what the Bible says” and “God got me. I don’t need you. I pray for you”
I’m beyond pissed. I’m cold —- and I loath being cold — and I’m tired, it’s now like 2:30 or 3, I’m feeling vulnerable just by being broke down and especially with the toddler who can’t do anything to protect herself or understand what’s going on and who is extremely sensitive to any type of anger or tension (she cries hysterically when her siblings tickle fight or pillow fight and are laughing) and with all I’ve been dealing with with my mom lately I just have no give a shit left in me. So I jump out and say loudly “should I get the gun for you?” He said “it’s starting to look like it.” And I handed it to him and he put it in his pocket - more just wanting to communicate and it wanting to draw on her because that could invite charges for him potentially and we already have enough legal drama waiting at home. She slowly starts walking backward and keeps running her mouth. I forget what she said but she flipped my bitch switch again and I found myself screaming “Don’t make me cut a bitch!”
She said “what did you say?” And I pulled out my pretty pink and Pearl, large and extremely sharp pocket knife and extended the blade, “I said if you don’t carry your ass I WILL cut a bitch!” She nodded that smug kind of nod and kept going, “aaaiiignt”
The car that brought her there and left came back. She got in it and it left, stopped about 20 feet from the parking lot and she appeared to be forcefully shoved out from the way she rolled in the grass. But she goes walking the other direction so we figured she was gone. Meanwhile though in that amount of time I already dialed 911. The operator connected me to the local station and I spoke to dispatch. I kid you not, less than 60 seconds later an officer was there. We later learned he parks in a dark spot across the street of this divided highway. He even saw some of the commotion but couldn’t tell from the angle that it was heated. He tells us all about her, how she’s the local “hooker” / crack whore, along with her sister and mother. When I said we could tell she was drunk or inebriated or something he said, “more like high as a kite in with a jet pack!” I have seen a lot of people high in my years but I’ve never seen anyone act like she was so I asked, “On what?” He just shrugged “likely a combination of things. She’s a non discernment, equal opportunity junkie.”
Would you believe she showed up again while he’s talking to us? She tried to act like they were friends “hey! I know you. You’re married to my kin ...” He kinda yells at her and smirks “you a damn lie and you know it. I’m not even married.” Tim and I both glanced at his hands, his wedding band plainly visible. I got back in the van because my teeth are chattering so bad I can’t speak anyway. He puts her in the back of his car and talks to my husband again. He tells him he’s use to her and is going to take her to a relatives house where she goes when she needs to sleep it off for a day or two. He leaves and about 20 minutes later he’s back. Apparently he almost ran out of gas and he wanted to check in on us again. The jokes flew about how awkward that would look if he ran out of gas and was on the side of the road with the town hooker and all. He was a really nice guy and stayed with us most of the rest of the night. He said he got off at 7 and if we still didn’t have any help to give him a call, giving us his cell number.
So, at the same time I’m trying to get something done about the tow truck that needs to come get the van and find someone to come get us. The first wrecker — BROKE DOWN ON THE WAY TO PICK US UP! I was starting to feel cursed! The second wasn’t informed this would be a “long haul” tow and he only does local. Third times the charm right? Apparently so this time. He was a nice guy as well and took extra steps to keep the bikes and things secure on the trip.
We even had talked to hubby’s parents when we very first broke down. They were asleep but I was able to text my kids that stayed behind to spend another day or two with them, and they were coming up anyway to do some work on the property up here and file the eviction. So the boy, who will be 11 tomorrow, and the 12yo girl woke them up and told them we broke down. Apparently the 8 year old had already gone to sleep. His parents got up and talked to us and they were like, we’ll work on it and let me know what you find out. What the insurance company will do. So when the tow truck showed up, at 4:30, we asked if one of them could come get us because all the insurance company said was “MAYBE a supervisor could make an allowance for a Lyft or something like that but it didn’t seem a highly probable option. I realize we were 3 hours from his parents but they got up and stayed up from the first time we called and father in law could’ve gotten us and most of our stuff in the van and gotten us home, and him back to his house, before lunch and then slept or done whatever work he felt was more important than our safety. I’m kinda ticked about that. So we get what things we can’t live without immediately and head into the store to wait for a solution to arise, or friends to wake up! I was the last one going in and I was shivering so bad I dropped the things in my hands. I bent down to pick them up when two large shoes stepped in to my view, directly in front of me.
I stand up and then continue looking up to find the eyes looking back at me - a huge ‘cornfed’ red neck man who almost is convincing at appearing to be tough as nails, but I see the gentle kindness in him immediately. However, when he named the itty bitty, no red light havin’ isolated little farm town we live in I was flabbergasted. I actually stuttered and just made noise instead of words when I tried to respond. He even chuckled and playfully’ mocked’ me but was even kind about it. It was more like he got a kick out of how taken off guard I was. He said “Do y’all need a ride to (hometown)?” in that extremely slow, drawn out way the redneck Southerns do. In a minute I nodded and said “How do you know that?” I continued walking in the store as I spoke and of course he followed and opened the door for me. Hubby had run back and flagged down the tow truck before it left, remembering the car seat was left in it and that would be essential to getting us home. He had already talked to the man but j didn’t know that. In fact, in all the in and out that night hubby and my older daughter had told the cashier bits and pieces of the situation and it hit a point where she realized help wasn’t coming very fast and didn’t want to see any more trouble fall on us like with the oh so classy hooker we had already met. So she called her son, knowing this was the kind of thing he was always looking to do. He kept telling us that he just really liked to drive and it was no big deal and that he had time to get us there and back home before work even. After debating over it for what felt like hours but was probably only 5 minutes hubby and I decided it was probably the smartest option. He usually has a pretty keen sense of a persons character pretty quickly and so does my 18 year old - although it still needs to be fine tuned a bit but that will come with time, maturity, and unfortunately, heartbreak. We felt like we had a read on the kind, older lady cashier too and she even said “It’s ok. He’s my son. He’s not gonna hurt you or anybody that doesn’t try to hurt him first.”, laughing the last few words out and the glances between them revealing some inside joke / event. So we went ahead and got in his little car - which was more like a jumbo Geo Tracker and I honestly wondered how he ever fit inside. It wasn’t the best looking thing, kinda shabby and needing a lot of TLC, but for us it may as well have been luxury. It was a diamond in the rough, symbolic of the man who offered to drive us an hour and a half to get us home, and then back, before he went to work that day. By the time we got him we knew his life story - 33 and already a survivor of the heart attack they call ‘the widow maker’. We instantly fell in and we’re good friends. By the time we got home - at 7am - we hated to see him go. Of course we had a little Christmas gift cash on us and gave him a little something for his trouble, especially since he wouldn’t come in and let me make him something for breakfast. As I hugged him bye I told him “I will forever call you ‘My Angel Michael’. He said, “Well thank you ma’am. It was my pleasure.” and with that, he drove away.
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Girl With The Tattoos|3
Broken.
♦️
Na'imah was only seven when she went to live with her mothers estrange sister, Hazel, after her parent's untimely death.
In the beginning, everything was fine. Hazel had taken Na'imah in, including her as a part of her family which consisted of her two daughters, Aubrey and Eva, and her police chief husband Nico.
During her grieving period, they all were there for her, comforting her, showing her the love that she had once felt when her parents were alive. Her cousins who she felt like were more like her older sisters always found a way to cheer her up, doing everything together. Something that Na'imah was looking forward to being herself until the day of the accident.
Not only did she lose her parents but also her little sister who was only three months away from being born.
And although Her Aunt Hazel and Uncle Nico weren't her mother and father, they temporarily filled the void inside her heart for a while.
It wasn't until she turned ten that things begin to change though.
The love that she once had felt around her new family started to fade. Na'imah being as intelligent as she is picked up on it immediately. Her cousins had become distant and rude, her aunt was less caring, leaving Na'imah to literally take care of herself. It was almost as if she had become invisible in a place she called home.
But it was her uncle who was by far the worst.
When Na'imah first moved in, she never questioned the loving hugs and kisses she would receive from her uncle because of how he presented himself. However, she did notice the older she got, he started to look at her differently. Especially after she hit puberty and her appearance and body begin to change. His touches would linger as well as his lips that seemed to move a little closer to her mouth than her cheek each time.
Na'imah's eleventh birthday was the day her life turned into the nightmare she had dealt with for over seven years.
She still remembered the day so vividly. How happy she was to be turning eleven. Her aunt who hadn't been the best had seemed to make a turnaround, promising her a day filled with shopping for new clothes and shoes, as well taking her out for manis and pedis and to end her day with going to her favorite restaurant to eat.
But it was all a lie.
Since she had gone to sleep late the night before, she had woken up pretty late, missing out on the birthday breakfast her aunt had promised her. Disappointed, she had gotten out of bed, only to realize that her aunt and cousins had left without her, leaving her alone with her uncle and men she remembered seeing a few times.
At first, Na'imah didn't think too much about it, still seeing no reason to fear them.
Of course, that quickly changed.
On a day that was supposed to be filled with laughter and happy memories were replaced with screams of fear and heartbreak.
She still recalled what her uncle had said when they corned her in his man cave that was located in the basement. How they were only allowed to touch her wherever they pleased but "Her virginity belonged to him."
He allowed them to do things to her that no one should ever do to someone so young. Forcing her to touch them in a manner that made her want to throw up.
And once they were finished, she was warned to keep her pretty little mouth closed because "who would believe her" he said.
Na'imah felt utterly disgusting, even after she cleaned herself. She wanted so badly to tell her aunt once she came home but quickly realized that she was set up with a simple look she received from the woman she thought loved her.
When she was thirteen, her uncle words had come true as he stole something so precious that she could never get back.
All while her aunt knew, as well as her daughters.
Every day she woke up in that house, she wished that she was dead. The pain she experienced always threatened to break her down but she never allowed it to, she couldn't.
When Na'imah left, she made sure to leave no trace behind, making sure they wouldn't know where she was going which was hard to do since her uncle had eyes everywhere.
Still, she managed to escape, breaking free from the consistent torment that her "family" gave her.
Sadly, her past still haunts her on a daily but it was always worse whenever she closed her eyes to sleep. No matter how hard she tried, she could never escape it.
Because of what happened, she never had a regular relationship with people. Trust being something she felt no one really deserved, always keeping the wall made of steel up around everyone she met....until JB.
She rarely let anyone get close to her and here she was allowing someone she could never have, slowly tear down something she had strongly built up for her protection. A man she felt like was too pure to deal with her fucked up thing called life.
She had convinced herself that she was too broken to be fixed but she quickly realized that JB was someone who never gives up.
"Na'imah!"
Jumping at the sudden sharp voice, Na'imah snapped back into reality, eyeing the man who stood smiling in front of her. "Yes?" Jinsung was always the quiet and reserved type, so this was the first time she had ever heard him raise his voice since she first met him. He was a sweet but stern older gentleman who happens to own the 7/11 she works at.
"I would ask what's on your mind but I doubt you would tell me," He said with a raised eyebrow, tucking the magazine he had under his arm. "There's someone waiting outside for you." He added, shifting his gaze towards the entrance which she followed.
Na'imah did a double take before leaning a bit over the counter to see if her eyes were playing tricks on her. "H-how do you know it's for me?"
"He asked," Jinsung stated simply, making his way around to the back of the counter to stand next to her. "I can handle things from here. Go and enjoy the rest of your day with your boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend." She quickly rushed out.
Jinsung made a face, chuckling lowly. "I'm not sure other girls would deny an idol being called their boyfriend."
At hearing this, Na'imah stared at him with wide eyes. It wasn't as if one could tell who JB was, especially with his face being covered by had a hat and a mask. Maybe he looked a bit suspicious standing by a van, looking into the store but nothing screamed idol.
"H-he's no-"
"Sure he isn't," Jinsung said dismissively, cutting her denial short. "I'm thirty-six Na'imah, I know an idol when I see one."
With the slight roll of his eyes, he undid her apron an slightly pushed her to the side. "He's been standing there for a while, don't want to keep him waiting too long. Go."
Side-eyeing Jinsung, Na'imah grabbed her things and made her way towards the exit, her heart beating rapidly inside her chest with every step. She had hung out with JB a few times since that night in the studio, so she didn't understand why she still was so nervous around him.
Maybe it was because those times they have been together, it was usually late and no one was around. Now it was early in the morning when everyone was out and about, starting their day.
"And don't worry about coming in tonight, take the night off," Jinsung added just as Na'imah reached for the door handle.
Shooting him a look, she pushed the door open, taking a few steps to stand in front of JB in his all-black attire, his familiar scent hitting her senses. "What are you doing here?" She asked softly, still surprised that he was here in front of her.
She hadn't been able to see him for two weeks because of his scheduling, so for him to pop up so unexpectedly made her both happy and nervous.
Since his hat was so low, she couldn't see that he had been drinking in her appearance the moment she walked out. The way those white jeans hugged her thighs and hips, took his mind to a place it's traveled to often because of her. Sometimes he wondered if she knew how beautiful she was, both inside and out.
"JB?"
Lifting his gaze higher until his eyes landed on her smirking face, he reached for hands, pulling her in for a hug, ignoring the curious looks of people passing by. Her warmth engulfed him as he squeezed her, placing his lips against her neck much to her dismay. He was aware of how it affected her when he did it, earning that soft moan she always let out when he teased her.
"I missed you." He softly told her, allowing his lips to brush across her ear. What he really wanted to do was kiss her but he couldn't risk his face being exposed which he understood but still nonetheless hated.
"I missed you too." She said sincerely, still not believing that he was actually here.
"Come with me." He invited, pulling the door to the van back so she could get in. Seeing no point in asking questions, she slid in with him following behind her, closing the door behind him. "You don't have anything planned today do you?"
She gave him a knowing look. "You know I don't have much of a life outside of work."
If she wasn't working, then she was home, snuggled up on her couch, watching tv or movies. Occasionally she'd wander around the city to get more familiar with it but other than that, Na'imah was pretty much the definition of a homebody.
"You weren't joking when you said you didn't have many friends were you?"
Shaking her head, she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "Not really. I still keep in contact with a few good people I've met during my military service but I'm not all that close to anyone like that. Never have been." She knew that it wasn't good to be as isolated as she was but she couldn't help it. Her past made her that way.
JB hummed lowly. "I think that's starting to change." He acknowledged, shedding light on how close they both have gotten since they exchanged numbers. Though she was still holding back things, JB still knew quite a bit about her. He found that she was easier to read than he thought, having the habit of wearing her emotions on her face for the world to see.
More than anything he wanted to know who or what hurt her for her to be so hesitant and distant. She had revealed that she has never been in a real relationship before but has dated around a few times. That made him curious as to why nothing serious ever came from them but didn't surprise him after he's gotten a feel of who she was.
"Maybe." She smiled at him softly, playing with the rings on his fingers. "Where are we going?"
"My place." He said, sitting back against his seat as the driver moved into traffic. "If you don't mind of course." He added once he took in her facial experience.
Clearing her throat, she shook her head. "No, it's fine. I wasn't doing anything today anyway." She had been alone with him before, so this shouldn't be any different.
"You sure?" He questioned, placing his hand on her thigh, feeling her shiver from his touch. It was interesting to him how she reacted whenever he touched her. He remembered a few weeks back the fear in her eyes when things got intensely heated between them, that made him quickly pull back. She reassured him that it wasn't him and that she simply wasn't ready which he understood but her reaction scared him and also arose many questions.
She enjoyed his touch, that much he knew but she had boundaries which he respected but he knew something terrible happened to her.
"Yes, as long as food is involved." She half-joked, hungry after her eight-hour shift. She'd eat a few snacks throughout her shift but what she wanted more than anything was real food.
JB laughed, linking their fingers together. "Already two steps ahead of you." He made a mental note to thank Jinyoung once again for suggesting a restaurant he's never heard of for food they both felt like she would enjoy.
It was the small things he did that made her feelings for him grow every day. Always leaving her gifts of her favorite things from food to flowers. She appreciated how he paid attention to everything she's revealed about herself, even the little detail about her favorite Digimon character, Patamon, in which he gave her a plush toy of, along with other characters.
"What?" He spoke up. Tilting his head to the side as he eyed Na'imah staring him at him with this soft look on her face.
"I...thank you." She muttered, not knowing what else to say after being caught.
"For what?"
Laying her head against his shoulder, she sighed deeply, enjoying his presence. "For being you."
A comfortable silence fell between them after that, with JB smiling and Na'imah drifting in and out of sleep until the car came to a stop. Refusing to let her walk in her sleepy state, he carried her to the front door of his dorm. Knowing that Jinyoung and Yugyeom were home, he chose to knock, hoping at least one of the members were awake to answer.
A few seconds later, a tired looking Yugyeom opened the door, rubbing his eyes. "Hyung, you have a key, wh-"
Realizing that JB wasn't alone, Yugyeom's sentence cut short after noticing the sleeping woman in his arms. "Yeojachingu?" He mouthed, not wanting to wake her as he stood to the side to let them in.
JB rolled his eyes, not bothering to answer the youngest members question. If he was being honest, he didn't know what they were and he wasn't going to put a title on it until he knows if her feelings are mutual.
He debated if he should wake her but thought against it since he didn't want to disturb her. Walking towards his room with Yugyeom close behind him, he placed her on his bed, removing her jacket as Yugyeom removed her boots. Once she was laid comfortably underneath his covers, JB had to practically drag Yugyeom out of his room, cracking the door behind him.
"She's pretty." Yugyeom grinned, ignoring the dark look JB was sending his way. "I always wondered where that sweet scent on your clothes comes from when you come home from the studio. Now I see where who it belongs to." The maknae stated, loving how irritated his hyung was looking at the moment.
"I would suggest you leave him alone unless you want to revisit the same headlock from a few nights ago," Jinyoung spoke up, stepping from the kitchen with a glass of water in hand.
Yugyeom pouted, sneaking a glance at JB who busied himself with the food on their kitchen table. "I'll have to order something else once she wakes up." He told them. "Let's eat."
He chewed on a piece of sausage while his members joined him, eating the Americanized breakfast that he gotten specifically for Na'imah, figured she would love to eat food from the US. He knew first hand what it was like to miss certain food when away from home.
"So, will we get to meet her once she gets up?" Jinyoung asked, slapping Yugyeom's hand from taking all of the bacon.
"If she doesn't mind." He was more than ready to introduce her to the people he loved. He knew that around them, he wouldn't have to hide the woman he wanted to call his own. And in time, hopefully, he could show off to the world one day.
Maybe he was thinking too far ahead but he didn't care. He was finding it hard to keep his feelings in check, even constantly telling himself that they were simply just friends, though he wanted to be more. This was more than just a simple crush.
"Have you at least spoken to JYP before you take things further?"
JB shook his head. He knew that he was allowed to date, however, he was afraid of the feedback he'd receive when he told management about her ethnicity. He didn't want to lose someone he considers to be so special to him.
Yugyeom and Jinyoung shared a look before staring at JB. "Your secret is safe with us."
"And we'll have your back no matter what." Yugyeom nodded.
A small smile pulled at JB's lips at their comforting words but he knew that soon, especially if something more blooms between him and Na'imah, that he will have to let his company know the truth.
And if things don't go as he hopes, he will refuse to let her go no matter of their wishes.
#kpop fanfiction#kpopfanfic#kpop angst#kpop#pocminiseries#ambw#ambwfanfic#girlwiththetattoos#got7#got7jb#maturethemes#angst#imjaebum#imjaebeom#interracialfanfic#fanfic#romance
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March 18, 2021: The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985) (Part One)
Look, it’s Woody Allen again! Why is this elephant here?
Ah, right. The documentary on HBO, which I have not watched since I last talked about Woody Allen? Why? Well, from what I’ve heard, it’s not the most accurate documentary, and has a bit of bias loaded into it. And again, I don’t know nearly enough about the whole situation, but...I’m also not interested in potentially biased accounts. So, I’ll take the time to educate myself.
Shame that I rarely have any time, then.
Yeah, I just made one of the oldest jokes on the internet ever. Sue me. SUE ME I DARE YOU
You may be asking, then, why am I doing the whole movie thing? Well, in truth, this is a form of escapism for me. I mean, who doesn’t like sitting down and watching a good movie, putting away your worldly cares for about 2 hours so that you can dive into another world entirely? I mean, the worlds that’ve been built by film over the last century never ceases to amaze me.
From Avatar’s Pandora to Mustafar in Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, to the Great Barrier Reef in Finding Nemo, or the world of Monsters, Inc. There are so many unique worlds, not to mention the characters who inhabit them, and the directors and filmmakers who craft and show them. I just love movies, honestly. Which I could literally be in the world of some of them, even for just 2 hours.
But enough of that, what’s this film about? Eh, whatever, LET’S JUST GET INTO IT! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!
Recap (1/2)
We’re brought in on “Cheek to Cheek”, as sung by Fred Astaire, which is, not gonna lie, a guilty pleasure song of mine that I find myself singing in quiet moments. This leads us to a movie poster for the film, The Purple Rose of Cairo, which is being admired by Cecilia (Mia...Farrow). Ohhhhh.
You may remember Mrs. Farrow from her eponymous voice role in The Last Unicorn, which was made a few years before this film. And she’s also known for Rosemary’s Baby, The Great Gatsby, and...her marriage to Woody Allen, which ended in divorce and a massive lawsuit. Said lawsuit involved Farrow’s accusation of sexual abuse to their adopted daughter, Dylan. And that’s what the HBO documentary is about!
WOW. AWKWARD. Apparently, the two got married in 1980, and made thirteen films together, this one included. Which seems both awkward, and like straight-up nepotism, but whatever. Tim Burton did the same thing with Helena Bonham Carter, so whatever; it’s not unprecedented, is what I’m saying. Back to the movie, though.
Cecilia is a waitress, along with her sister (played by Stephanie Farrow, Mia’s actual sister). She’s new at the job, and not great at it. But, her and her sister still have nice conversations about films, as Cecilia’s quite the cinephile. After work, Cecilia meets her husband Monk (Danny Aiello), an abusive gambler who’s unemployed and not doing much about it. It’s the middle of the Great Depression, and things are hard all over. Monk seems to handle this by playing dice, and not particularly well.
Cecilia unsuccessfully tries to get Monk to see the newest movie with her, so she goes to see it alone that night. The film itself is a comedy about a rich Manhattanite named Henry (Edward Herrmann), alongside his wife Rita (Deborah Rush) and friend Jason (John Wood). They take a trip to Cairo, where they meet a young archaeologist named Tom Baxter (Jeff Daniels), who’s there to seek the mythical Purple Rose of Cairo. They invite him back to New York with them, and he accepts. There, he falls in love with Kitty Haynes (Karen Ackers), a singer at the Copacabana.
Cecilia is head over heels in love with the movie itself, and dreams about it at work, before going to see it again with her sister. They go to an early showing, and when she comes home, Monk’s drunk and spending time with a woman named Olga. Understandably enraged by this, Cecilia packs up her belongings to move out. Monk tries to get her to stay, the abusive cheating douchebag that he is. She notes that he hits her, and he defends his actions. Monk’s a real piece of shit. And she leaves, despite his absolute shit. God, I hope she stays away.
Unfortunately, she’s essentially forced to come back to the apartment that night, and returns to work as well. But not for long, as she’s basically immediately fired. Now jobless and stuck in an extremely shitty marriage, she has nowhere to go...except for the movies. And she goes back over...and over...and over again, five times in a row that day.
But the seventh time she sees the movie...something happens. Something fascinatingly unusual. The film, specifically Tom Baxter himself, watches her back.
Holy shit, that’s awesome! Tom Baxter notices Cecilia in the audience, and before his “madcap Manhattan weekend” is set to begin, Tom notes that she must really love this movie, and also that he’s noticed her all 6 previous times she’s seen the film. And then...he leaves. He leaves the movie!
He turns to color, and he jumps out of the screen to sweep Cecilia off of her feet. And EVERYBODY sees this, including the people IN the movie and in the theatre. I also love the fact that as soon as he turns to color, a woman faints, which is super fucking funny to me for some reason. Tom runs off with Cecilia, free after 2,000 monotonous performances.
Now that Tom’s met Cecilia, he’s never going back. The audience and the film stars are in complete disarray, and without Tom present, the movie can’t go forward, and the film characters descend into arguments about whose movie this actually is. It’s uh...it’s fucking hilarious, actually.
The enthusiastic Tom Baxter goes with Cecilia to a closed amusement park, where Cecilia once again expresses confusion at the whole affair. He notes that she’s been looking at her with every one of his performances, although she doesn’t understand why. But he calls her fetching, and is clearly quite smitten with her. And she appears to be returning that affection.
When Tom tells her that Cecilia is in love with him, she notes that she’s married. Still, he asks her to meet him that night at the amusement park. After all, how many times does a movie character leave a movie to meet somebody? Not an everyday occurrence.
Meanwhile, the film characters continue to be freaking the fuck out. The Countess (Zoe Caldwell) and Larry Wilde (Van Johnson) show up as well. The audience appears to be enjoying this less than I am, and they start to backtalk the movie, calling it boring. The movie backtalks the audience right back, and it continues to be hilarious.
Eventually, this becomes an attraction in and of itself. They suggest turning the movie off, but that risks stranding Tom Baxter outside. It also means that the film characters wouldn’t exist, which Henry is EXTREMELY upset about. As the news arrives to cover the small theatre’s anomaly, the people in the film itself start to play pinochle, as a few people linger around to watch and interact with the characters. The theatre manager (Irving Metzman) calls the production company, RKO, and they get on the phone with a Gil Shepherd.
Meanwhile, Cecilia manages to get out of the house, despite Monk trying to keep her there to massage his back, the absolute douchebag. She goes and meets Tom, and they go dancing together. This is just as the actor who plays Tom, Gil Shepherd (Jeff Daniels) is called by RKO while he’s at a party. Gil seems like kind of a typical Hollywood jerk, but he’s interrupted by an agent, who tells him that they need to get control of...well, whatever the hell this is.
Apparently, RKO is telling Gil that if he can’t get “his creation” under control, then he’ll essentially be blacklisted, especially considering that there’s no telling what Tom’s doing out there. And what Tom is doing is attempting to pay for a meal with Cecilia, only to find that his money isn’t real money. The two dine-and-dash, and they escape in a car back to the amusement park.
There, the two kiss, with Tom expecting the screen to fade out in preparation for them to make love. He’s surprised when it doesn’t happen, and it’s neat to see his adjustment to the world outside of films. He wants to continue with the lovemaking, but she’s still faithful to her husband. He stays at the park, and she returns home, where she still hasn’t told Monk about her new unemployment status.
The next morning, Gil and co. arrive at the small New Jersey town, and Gil ends up running into Cecilia, who confuses him for Tom. Gil realizes exactly what’s going on, and reveals who he is to her. The two start to talk, and Cecilia just fangirls EVERWHERE. She agrees to take him to meet his character.
Great place to pause, I think! See you in Part Two!
#the purple rose of cairo#woody allen#mia farrow#jeff daniels#danny aiello#edward hermann#john wood#deborah rush#zoe caldwell#fantasy march#user365#365days365movies#365 movie challenge#365 movies 365 days#365 Days 365 Movies#365 movies a year#userstream#filmedit
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Kara first becomes aware that Lena has a legion of seven evil exes hellbent on destroying her life when she gets home to find “Stay away from Lena Luthor” spray-painted on her apartment door. Her first thought is the culprit must be Lex Luthor, but spray paint seems a little inelegant for him, and besides, it’s just a bit too coincidental that the crime occurs the day after she shared dinner, drinks and a foot-pop inducing first kiss with the CEO of L-Corp. She rather doubts Lex found out about that from inside his supermax prison cell.
“I might have an idea who’s behind it.” Lena says sheepishly when she arrives to survey the damage. “I do have these seven evil exes who try to kill anyone I date.” When Kara suggests that this was perhaps something she should have mentioned after the aforementioned dinner, drinks, and earth-shattering kiss, Lena holds up her hands defensively. “I assumed it wouldn’t be a problem. I mean, you are a superhero.”
There’s just one issue with that superhero plan though, as Alex points out when she shows up to take a look at Kara’s vandalised door. The legion of seven evil exes who are now hellbent on destroying Kara’s life only think Lena is dating Kara Danvers, not Supergirl. So when they show up to fight her she can’t actually punch them into space without revealing her secret identity. She either deals with this problem as Kara Danvers or outs herself to a group of heartbroken supervillains.
So what does Kara Danvers do when she’s confronted with a legion of seven evil exes hellbent on destroying her life? She makes friends with them. Obviously.
1. Michael. Lena dated Michael for three weeks when she was fifteen because he had an earring and rode a motorbike. She was in the midst of a rebellious phase where she was trying her damndest to piss off her mother, and it worked until Michael suggested she drop out of high school to tour the country with his band. Even aged fifteen, Lena Luthor was nobody’s groupie. In the intervening years, he had racked up a couple of minor felonies (he was responsible for the spray paint) and was now playing bass in a Nickelback cover band. Kara agrees to hand out flyers for their next gig, and he tells her that she’s “totally kick-ass” like he’s from a 90s teen movie, then agrees he won’t try to murder her. She has to stand on a street corner in the cold for three hours, but it’s worth it when Lena shows up with hot cocoa, plants a warm kiss on her freezing nose, and tells her she looks cute in her scarf.
2. Madison. Kara first becomes aware of Madison when she is pelted with soccer balls by a small herd of children out of the windows of a mini-van. After she makes her escape, she forces an embarrassed Lena to explain that Madison was part of her first experimental steps into sleeping with women. They had hooked up once in their freshman year of college before Madison met a man, settled down and had four kids in quick succession. Kara has to find out for herself, buried somewhere in the depths of Madison’s mommy blog, that Lena had ruined her sex life with her future husband forever by giving her the only orgasm she would ever have. Kara ignores her friends’ rather lewd suggestions of how she could get in her good books, and instead stays up all night baking cookies and brings them to Madison’s PTA fundraiser. She arrives home that night to Lena brandishing three large pizzas and a lewd suggestion of her own.
3. Prisha. Kara knows all about Prisha. She’s beautiful and intelligent and perfect, she’s a hot-shot prosecutor and she has a blackbelt in Judo and Kara hates her guts. Lena only ever references her vaguely, but Kara does manage to get out of her that Lena was eyeing up engagement rings before she found out Prisha was cheating on her, and after that Kara just hates her even more. She’s actually determined not to befriend this particular ex until she receives a court summons for an unpaid parking ticket. Kara Danvers has never parked illegally in her life. She offers Prisha Supergirl’s number so that she can get in a few sparring sessions to train against someone really tough (under the influence of kryptonite, of course), and that means she gets to make friends with her and punch her in the face. “You do know you’re the only person I care about dating right now, don’t you?” Lena asks her later with a teasing smile, and Kara feels a little bit guilty about the whole punching thing.
4. Simon. Lena broke up with Simon after he stole some of her PHD research, published it under his own name and used the resulting exposure to start a multi-billion dollar tech company. He still frequently appears in the news for the human rights violations in his company warehouses. He sends a delivery driver to do his dirty work for him, who hands Kara an exploding pen when he asks her to sign for her package. Admittedly, this might have actually worked if she wasn’t an alien, and Kara isn’t exactly thrilled by the thought of attempting to make nice with Simon. She is excellent at gift-giving though and finally hits on what every Silicon Valley tech bro really wants: she talks Winn into hacking his social media pages and making his twitter advertising campaign go viral. She tells Lena she’s starting to worry about just how bad she is at picking her relationships, and Lena points out that her current girlfriend is pretty great. It’s the first time she’s said it, and Kara melts.
5. Jensen. Jensen was Lena’s final attempt at pleasing her parents and dating men, back around the time of the whole Lex-Luthor-tries-to-kill-Superman fiasco. It seemed like it would make Thanksgiving a little less awkward, Lena explains, and Kara supposes she can’t argue with that logic. Their relationship might have even worked out if both of them hadn’t been very, very gay, and although they parted on amicable enough terms, that doesn’t stop Jensen from trying to poison Kara with tainted cupcakes from the bakery he owns. The cupcakes are really good though, if you ignore the arsenic, so once Kara finds out he owns a bakery she becomes one of his best customers, and inside of a month she and Jensen are regularly meeting up for coffee. He’s not really evil, just kind of dramatic, and Lena pouts adorably when Kara teases that she could say the same thing about her.
6. Rosa. Kara finds out about Rosa when she receives a call from the National City jail warning her away from Lena. Lena looks faintly embarrassed when she admits that she dated Rosa for a couple of months until she realised the other woman was stealing from her apartment and attempting to milk every penny she could out of her. Which, yeah, Kara supposes you’re at risk of that when you’re an incredibly attractive, single billionaire, but Lena seems to think she should have known something was amiss in advance. Apparently, Rosa is very well connected in the organised crime world though, because she definitely recognises the goons who jump her and Alex outside of her apartment building as being from a local mob family. Said goons didn’t exactly expect to be contending with an over-protective Danvers sister though, and they’re seen off very quickly. Alex is less than impressed when Kara starts up a penpal friendship with Rosa, despite her little sister’s insistence that Rosa was mostly blackmailed into most of her crimes by her underworld family members. Lena, who perhaps understands a problematic family more than many people, sighs and says, “Well, you forgive people. That’s what makes you Kara.”
7. Clara. Kara has absolutely no idea what Lena saw in Clara. She’s nothing like any of Lena’s other exes, doesn’t even have much in common with her, and it isn’t until Alex has tears of laughter running down her face that she kind of sees it. Clara has long blonde hair, blues eyes, glasses, favours button-ups and - oh okay fine, she’s a dead ringer for Kara. She does an excellent imitation of Kara on the phone and attempts to break up with Lena, but gives herself away when she mentions eating a salad for lunch. Kara gets in touch with a talent agency she knows through CatCo and helps Clara get a steady gig as a Supergirl lookalike. When she asks Lena what she was thinking when she slept with her, Lena gives a small shrug. “I was head over heels in love with my best friend but not quite ready to admit it yet.”
“Am I in danger of becoming evil if you ever break up with me?” Kara asks once the legion of seven evil exes hellbent on destroying her life have all been successfully befriended and neutralised. She expects Lena to make a joke about Supergirl never turning evil, but Lena just gives her a curious look instead.
“What makes you think I’m ever going to break up with you?”
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✧ Founders CAS Challenge by @volcano-pasta ✧
Tagged by @simmeronnie Thank you so much. I decided to use this as an excuse to create my founders of my ts3 legacies in ts4.
Rules: Post all of your founders together to compare and contrast them! Share some details to see how similar or different they are. This can be done in CAS, or you can jump in game, or you can share old screenshots!
1) The Van Winkle Legacy - Founder Peter Van Winkle
Just the average absentminded scientist.
He is immortal due to being tricked by Emit Relevart.
He was married twice.
First wife Valari - their marriage ended in divorce
They had 4 children together
Second wife Jean - she died of old age
They had 4 children together
Valari was killed in a fire she set herself to kill Peter in after luring him into her trap by kidnapping his son.
Peter is now moving on from having lost Jean and is dating River. When Gen 6 starts we’ll see if she becomes wife number 3
Gen 6 currently on hiatus but I am working on it
More under the cut. It got really long, Plus evidently I write a lot.
2) Not So Ordinary Life - Founder William Bennett and his wife Jessica
This legacy started because William kept getting abducted by aliens. I asked myself one little question...what if the aliens weren’t as friendly as the game made them out to be? What if they had an agenda all their own? Thus the Bennett saga began.
Why Bennett? Because I gave him the same last name of my favorite character Elizabeth Bennett from Pride and Prejudice
William was abducted 4 or 5 times. I don’t honestly remember. It did result in two pregnancies.
The alien experiments done on him unfortunately had lasting side effects on his wife. She became prone to fits of anger, jealousy, uncontrollable sexual urges that resulted in multiple children she was unable to take care nor any desire to do so. Also resulted in an affair and a child from that relationship as well. Until she completely lost it and tried to kill her entire family.
William stuck by her because he felt guilty because of what the aliens had done to him.
He also lost his oldest child Sydney in a tragic house fire. She later came back to life through a science experiment but that’s another story.
Gen 6 currently on hiatus but being worked on
3) Not So Peaceful Life (a side legacy of NSOL) - Evelyn Bennett and her husband Shon Olivia
Evelyn is William’s alien daughter.
She married her older sisters boyfriend after meeting him again once she went away to University.
They were reluctant to move their relationship from friends to something more.
Shon’s estranged father hated her and on more than one occasion tried to kill her. He had been abducted by aliens that drove him to drinking.
Shon and Evelyn also took in his children from a previous relationship before he was sent to live with his Aunt. He didn’t even know about them until a case he was working on in Bridgeport let him to his ex girlfriends door.
Shon had two kids with Evelyn and two with his ex.
4th gen is on hiatus.
4) Not So Quiet Life (a side legacy of NSOL) Casey Bennett and his wife Lynn
Casey is the 3rd child of William and Jessica
Sydney sacrificed herself to save him in the fire that took her life.
Casey and his younger brother Gene never really got along until years later when Casey had his own breakdown and developed a drinking problem. Gene helped him through it.
Casey got a girl pregnant while he was at University and they lived together for the sake of their son Eddie.
He came home from work one day to find her gone and his son alone crying in his crib.
Through the help of is older brother Robert he was able to find a suitable nanny for his son.
He later married his son’s nanny.
Casey had two kids with Lynn besides Eddie.
Glitter is the continuation of his legacy with Hannah, Benjamin and Christopher Bennett.
5) Not So Reckless Life (a side legacy of NSOL) Gene Bennett and his wife Aimee.
Gene had emotional problems that developed after the death of this older sister Sydney. He felt responsible for the fire because he took out the batteries from the smoke alarm to operate a toy.
He got into drugs and drinking as a teenager but nothing really helped with the guilt he felt.
He became suicidal.
He became a target of his mother’s to vent her anger and unreasonable hatred on not helping with his own emotional problems.
Things started to turn around when he met his girlfriend (can’t remember her name) They lived together until he decided to sign up Sim Star Idol
Everyone was against him joining the show afraid that the pressure would be too much for him and he’d start drinking again.
If it weren’t for his brother Robert’s firm belief in him that he could do it that he did the show.
He didn’t win but he did meet the love of his life Aimee Vera.
Aimee’s parents were less than thrilled with her choice in men and did everything they could to break them up.
Aimee gave into their demands when Gene found out he was the father of twins from his previous relationship and she had died in child birth leaving him twin girls to raise.
He had a total of 7 kids.
Knights of Hope is the current gen and will continue once Glitter concludes. Currently on Hiatus
6) Bring Me Back To Live (a side legacy of NSOL) Sydney Bennett and her husband Tain Sugihara.
Sydney died in a tragic house fire as a teenager.
She was brought back to life by a highly experimental procedure
The scientists wanted to generate good will and funding for their experiment so they insisted she marry and they hosted a BC for her.
Tain Sugihara was the lucky winner
The experiment that brought her back to life led to her death five years later.
She had triplets but it was her son Jackson who developed the genetic degradation that would eventually lead to his early death.
The scientists wanted to continue the experiments in the hopes of perfecting or even duplicating their one and only successful resurrection.
Made to almost the end of gen 5 - indefinite hiatus
7) My lil Reagan’s Robin Fairchild and Dominick Reagan started it all.
I will one day post their story.
It is written but I want to fit it in so that it makes sense with where I’m at with my Reagan stories.
These two would be the grandparents or Jonah, Jayden, Raelyn and Sage.
Sage’s purple hair comes from Dominick
Dominick is a ghost now living with his elderly husband in their youngest son’s home.
My TS4 game play consists of mostly their descendants
8) Island Living Game play - Octavia Griggs and Wilson McCabe
I’ll probably just play them until the kids age up.
You may see their kids married to other sims later on
It was started to test out Island Living
9) 4x4 Challenge and game play - Reo Carmichael and Kasen Rocca
Reo is a well known actor
Kasen is an up and coming artist
The challenge was to start off with a 4x4 house and every 10,000 dollars they make they can add on another 4x4 room. They have to spend all but 500 dollars in the renovation.
Once the upstairs is complete and their kids are aged this challenge will end.
I have plans for their only son He will have his own challenge to accomplish
Hmm that’s a lot but the majority of my TS3 stories are on hiatus but will be coming back. I just want to have stuff written in advance. I do see I get obsessed with families mainly my Bennett’s and Reagan’s. I love my Van Winkle’s too but I tried to keep all the stories in together since they tell the same overall story.
Sorry I got a little long winded but I do love to talk about my stories and this helped me realize what I lived about them. Also why I struggle to let any of them even BMBTL.
Tagging: @fataleromeo @cillaben @izayoichan @ohsimtastic @amuhav @wannabecatwriter @justasimthing @cawthorntales and anyone else who wants to do this. Feel free to ignore if you want.
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In Memoriam
Anonymous asked: Could we see a little something about Ruthie comforting FP after Fred’s death?
Word Count: 2,787
When it happened, it was like the world stopped for a minute. As if no one could believe that someone so brilliant was gone so quickly. It was a rift in time, a rift in town, an event that would shake Riverdale to the core. Fred Andrews: Father to anyone who needed it, friend to just about everyone, all around great man. His front door was always open, coffee always brewing, always up for a friendly conversation when a listening ear was needed. Fred’s death rocked each and every citizen of Riverdale to their core, though it closer to home for some people more than others.
FP Jones was one of the first men on the scene, having responded to a hit-and-run call up in Cherry Creek after checking out a domestic disturbance nearby. There was a lot of things that FP had been exposed to that no one else was, not that they wanted to. He’d known traumas big and small; when he was sixteen and his old man kicked him out of the house, when he turned eighteen and he enlisted in the Army. Gang life and War meant that FP was used to seeing a lot of casualties. He’d lost a lot of good men. None like Fred Andrews, though. FP knew it was bad news when he pulled up to the crime scene and the coroner’s van had already pulled up. But behind the sterile black van, pushed off the side of the road, was a big brown truck that FP knew well. It was Fred’s truck. The mere sight of it made the man sick with worry as he whipped around to look at the faces in the growing crown, hoping to find Fred among the worried bystanders and the tight knit lines of policemen and EMTs who were talking in hushed voices.
“What’s happened here?” FP piped up, taking off his wide-rimmed Sheriff’s hat as he looked over at a medical examiner.
The woman sighed, her long ponytail swaying in the wind, “Terrible — nice guy pulls over to help some stranded woman, another jackass barrels through the intersection…hit and run.” She excuses herself and FP barely registers her lack of presence, the blood pumping in his ears as he tried not to jump to conclusions.
There’s a sinking feeling in his gut that got worse with every step as he approached the crime scene. FP stretches the yellow caution tape up over his head and ducks under, pulling out his Sheriff’s badge to appease the pinched faces of the Cherry Creek police unit. The ambulance drives off without turning on the sirens — never a good sign — it usually meant that they were in no hurry to get somewhere, or that they were too late to be able to be of help. FP poked his head in where he could, asking for questions, details about the truck, the accident, the victim. The one thing that he hadn’t manage to catch was the name of the man who died. Of course, deep down he knew the answer already, the truck, the details of the accident; it had Fred Andrews written all over it. But until FP was certain, there was still a glimmer of hope that Fred was alive and well, giving his statement to some police officer while trying to figure out if everyone else at the scene of the crime was okay.
Fred Andrews was selfless. It was one of FP’s favorite things about his best friend. The two had been thick as thieves since before high school, having met after some Northside kids were picking on FP for his hand-me-down shoes; the cheap pair of sneakers from Southside Thrift may have had pink laces, but they were a three dollar pair of shoes that fit young Forsythe like a glove, and his Momma couldn’t see any sense in passing them up. Freddy Andrews stood up to the Northside bullies on behalf of FP, and they spent the rest of recess coloring the laces with a permanent marker that Fred nabbed from the art classroom.
That same selfless boy grew it into a wonderful man, volunteering to cart FP’s drunk self home from the Whyte Wyrm on most weekends, despite not being in the man’s good graces. These nights may have usually been a blur for FP, but there was on in particular that he remembered with a stunning amount of clarity:
He’d been let up the stairs of the rickety mobile home, with Fred giving his back a push and mumbling about having to take care of the “dead-weight”. FP can remember collapsing on the couch after a struggle to take his boots off, Fred had dipped down the short hallway to the let Gladys know that her husband had made it home in one piece, and that she didn’t have to worry. Fred was setting down a glass of water and some aspirin atop the coffee table when he looked over his shoulder suddenly,
“You can come out now, Jug, everything’s fine.” Fred whispered, prompting Jughead to reveal himself from his spot behind his bedroom door.
The boy was fourteen and angry at the world around him, ready to throw a skinny elbow in the face of whoever tried to get in his way. His father had been on his shit-list for a while now, and things had only steadily gone downhill since FP lost his job; He’d been treating Jug’s mom poorly lately — a product of unemployment and alcoholism — she’d never been the type to make herself smaller to appease anyone, and so the arguments became almost nightly. Jellybean was getting old enough to understand what was happening, all the ways things were going wrong. It hurt Jughead’s heart to watch, he didn’t want his younger sister to have to bear witness to all that, he didn’t want her to grow up too fast like he was. So when Mom and Dad would fight, he’d pull out the old walkman from the shoebox in the closet, trying his best to untangle the headphone wires with his clumsy fingers before slipping the cold plastic over his younger sister’s ears and pushing ‘play’ on whatever cassette was in the tape deck. It didn’t matter what it was, it just mattered that it was loud. Jug would sit there with Jellybean by his side, too distracted by the heavy thrums of drums and guitar to notice that her older brother had his hands slammed down over his ears to shut out the arguing.
“Thanks for takin’ care of him, Mr. A.” The boy mused, taking off his knit beanie and running a shaky hand through his greasy hair. Jughead glanced over at his passed-out father and, stepping out into the light, crossed Fred in the threshold to walk over to the couch and start loosening FP’s bootlaces.
“You shouldn’t have to see him like this, Jug. You’re too young for this” Fred shook his head, opening one of the cabinets in the kitchenette to see if he could find something he could make for the boy to eat. “It’s not your job to take care of your parents, and they shouldn’t be involving you in their problems…” Jughead nodded as Fred kept shuffling through the pantry. There wasn’t much besides oatmeal and stale protein bars, dented soup cans and discounted packets of ramen. The apples on top of the refrigerator were bruised and mushy. Fred pulled at his collar as he tried to think of anything he could do.
“How about you come around our house tomorrow morning for breakfast, say 10:30? I’ll grab a dozen donuts from the Bakery and you and I can have a cup of coffee and you can tell me about how school’s been, how’s that sound?”
Jughead smiles at the man, with teeth, a kind of smile that Fred hadn’t seen from the boy in quite a long time. “I’d like that, Mr. A.” Fred nods and lets himself out of the trailer, already knowing that the boy would show up on his porch fifteen minutes earlier than expected with a thermos of coffee because Jughead never liked to show up empty-handed.
FP had woken up in the midst of their conversation, sobered up enough to have baseline awareness of where he was and what he was hearing. And just like always, just like all of those years ago, Freddy Andrews was there to help FP when he couldn’t help himself. He woke up that next afternoon with a dull ache behind his eyes, most of last night’s memories gone, but he sees the two pills on the coffee table accompanied by the half-empty glass of water and he remembers: FP remembers Fred picking him up from the bar, walking him inside. He remembers Jughead taking his boots off and covering him up with a blanket as Fred talked to him from the kitchen. FP lifts his head up carefully, peeling his heavy eyelids open. Jughead’s not home and that means Gladys and JB probably aren’t either. He almost has it in him to get up and face the damage he created, but not yet. Not then.
When Fred helped FP sober up a little, he made himself promise to always take care of Fred and the rest of the Andrews family in any way that he could. So despite it all, despite all of his deep-set urges to turn back to the bottle and drink away his worries, he knew that he had to be the one to break the news to Archie and Mary. When he gets the news, he’s able to sit with it calmly. It’s news that travels down the chain of command until it reaches Sheriff Jones. He was already expecting it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. The ride back to Riverdale from Cherry Creek wasn’t easy, but the weight of “He didn’t make it, he was killed upon impact” hadn’t set in yet. The tears start threatening to spill the closer he gets to town, vision going misty and blurry knowing that Fred Andrews was woven into the fabric of Riverdale, and that it would be harder to deny the fact that he was gone.
The Andrews household was a jumble of nerves and confused energy; red hair, red faces, red-tinged eyes. Mary sat as stiff as a ramrod, hands clutching onto a throw pillow from the couch just so she could have something to grab onto. Archie is Archie, all bark and no bite, always wanting to fight for the good just like his father. FP had always envied the close knit relationship that Archie had with his dad. It was selfish, but he couldn’t help but want to have that same relationship with his own son, though FP understood that there was one too many things he put Jughead through that were deemed unforgivable. He was doing a lot better though, and Fred had commented it on it one of the last times he and FP got to sit down together:
“I gotta hand it to you, Jones, you’ve really managed to turn everything around…” Fred claps a well-worn hand against FP’s shoulder, “I’m happy for you, proud.” FP was never one to be all that sentimental, but Fred’s words struck a chord in him; he couldn’t remember the last time that someone told him that they were proud of him. It’d been years, maybe even decades, before the Midnight Club or the Serpents, back when everything was so much easier.
He swallows the lump in his throat and smiles at his old friend, “So I guess you and I are gonna be neighbors?”
Breaking the news to Archie and Mary was when things got all too real. It was the moment where FP had to accept the fact that his best friend was gone. There would be no more Sunday night football together, no more weekly lunches at Pop’s, no more fix-it projects. Watching Archie and Mary wait with bated breath for the news made it all even more painful, how does one even begin to compartmentalize a loss as big as this one?
“Another vehicle came up on them an-and…he was struck by it. I’m sorry, Mary. I’m sorry, Archie” His voice breaks and FP tries his best to wipe away the tears before they spill, trying to stay strong like Fred would want him to be. His shaky fingers grip at the bridge of his nose, he can feel the tension headache coming on from how hard he had to grit his teeth to prevent himself from crying. He tries his best to talk Archie off the ledge, telling him to let the police find the man who committed the hit and run, trying to sway the boy from his sense of vigilante justice. FP gives hugs and extends his condolences before excusing himself and making the short walk next door.
“That you, Jones?” Ruthie calls from the kitchen. She’s making dinner and FP’s stomach grumbles right on cue. He’s hungry but he doesn’t feel much like eating, his heart had been sitting at his stomach for most of the day and he could feel the dam threatening to break at any moment.
“Yeah, Ruth, it’s me…” FP’s voice breaks and Ruthie picks up on it because soon enough she’s slinging the kitchen towel over her shoulder and peeking her head down the hallway.
“What’s wrong?” Her voice is soft when she asks the question, hesitant, like she should tell that he was seconds away from breaking. Ruthie walks up to him slowly, wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him down to her height. FP buries his face in her thick curls and that’s when she can hear his strained sniffles. “Talk to me”
He wants to, but it’s like the words are caught in his throat; like if he spoke them into existence they would become harder to ignore. Fred Andrews, his best friend, was dead and there was nothing he could do to bring him back. What hurt the most was that he never got the opportunity to say goodbye, and that he was so thankful for all the ways in which Fred took care of him and his family throughout the years, especially when FP couldn’t do that himself.
“Fred’s gone, Ruthless, he died. This morning” FP vomits out the words as fast as possible, suddenly wracked with gut-wrenching sobs that he’d been holding in for the good of everyone else. But now that he was home, in his new home, with the woman he’d finally felt true comfort with, letting his guard down wasn’t as scary. He knew that Ruthie would be there for him, that she wouldn’t go away, and that she was strong and capable enough to help him through this monumental loss.
He can hear the low gasp that escapes Ruthie’s lips, but she doesn’t say anything, just tightens her grip on FP and tangles her fingers in his hair. She’s quiet, letting FP cry it out because she knows that he needs to. She doesn’t ask questions yet, though every fiber of her being is screaming for answers. Fred Andrews had been nothing but kind to her since she met him, and it brought a tear to her eye that his kindness would be no more. Mainly she was crying because it hurt her heart to see FP in so much pain; it really put it into perspective how important Fred was to him. And if Fred was important to FP, that meant he was important to Ruthie too.
Somehow, FP and Ruthie end up in a tangled embrace in the middle of the hallway, sprawled out on the shag carpet. If anyone would walk in the front door at that moment, they’d be greeted with a pretty funny image: FP, who was bigger than Ruthie in every sense of the word, laying in a wrinkled and defeated heap on top of the younger woman, who was doing everything in her nature to be consoling despite knowing none of the details. With no more tears to cry, FP rested his head in Ruthie’s lap as she massaged at his temples as a feeble attempt to dull the ache.
“I love you, you know that, right?” FP asks, his voice hoarse and thick with emotion.
“I love you too, and I’m here when you need me…” The silence sets in again and Ruthie finds herself absentmindedly running her hand up and down FP’s strong bicep. “Will you tell me a story about him?”
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Hey, I've been stuck with this idea since a watched the last episode, could you please write a fic where Alexandra is in a car accident on Seattle and the family ends up at the hospital where Vicki begs Jo to save her sister and the family learns about Jo's existence?
A crowd had gathered outside in the ambulance bay with available staff gowning for the incoming trauma. Jo rolled her shoulders as she listened to Teddy explain the situation after a passenger van with UW students had collided with a transfer truck. She could sense Alex’s worried expression before she even glanced his way, “What?”
He shrugged casually, “Nothin’. Was just about to ask how your day was going.”
“Seriously? How does it look like it’s going?”
Alex cringed slightly, but still sported a small smirk, “Good point.” He then turned more fully towards her, “But really, how are you feeling? Kind of a rush for your first day back on rotation.”
“Sure as hell beats staying exclusively in the lab one more day.” She looked at him lovingly, “I promise I’m fine. I’m glad I eased back into working, but now I’m ready to get back into the meat of things….so to speak.”
“Well Karev, looks like you’ll get your wish,” Bailey directed towards her as the paramedic wheeled a gurney in her direction. “Possible abdominal and head injuries with multiple lacerations. Trauma 3.”
“I can give a hand….,” Alex started only to be cut off by Bailey.
“Did I say Karevs with an S, Trauma 3. No I said one Karev. We need you on the next one coming in.”
Jo shook her head at her husband as she walked in while trying to suppress her laughter, “I’ll be fine.”
In the trauma room, she quickly checked for abdominal injuries by ultrasound as Amelia assessed the patient’s head injury. After she was left alone with the patient, Jo made quick work of suturing the various cuts on the patient’s legs and head. She was just finishing the last calf wound when the door banged open, “Alexandra?”
Jo looked up in horror upon recognizing the voice and slowly stood from the stool she had been perched on, “Wha-“
“What’s wrong with her? Is she going to be okay?”
Jo took a breath to calm herself, wanting desperately to keep her wits about her, “She will be. She was alert at the scene, but was given medicine to help calm her which has made her sleep. She needs a CT to rule out a brain bleed but the neurosurgeon believes it may just be a bad concussion.” Jo could feel her mother’s eyes on her and could sense that her mouth was agape, but she ignored that to finish her assessment, “She does have an abdominal wound that will need surgery, but it’s not an immediate emergency, just something that will need to be done today. She had multiple lacerations, but those are stitched up. She appears to have a broken wrist, which will be x-rayed when she goes to CT.” Jo bit her bottom lip as she mustered the courage to look up, “Do you have any questions for me?”
Her mother continued to look at her in amazement, her mouth opening and closing repeatedly, “I…”
“Don’t worry, another surgeon will take over. I didn’t….none of the students had ID from what I was told and I never would have imagined….”
“No, I know.” Vicky pulled a stool up to the bedside and took her daughter’s hand, “It was a tour for the incoming freshman. They uh…had a parent’s orientation at the same time so I held onto her purse since they were going to be walking around campus for a while so she only had her cell phone. Josh, my…., well he was already bored yesterday so my husband, Daniel, he took him out of the city to hike somewhere.” She held her cell phone up, “Apparently somewhere out of service.”
“We can keep trying for you if you’d like.”
“You know, I’ve worried. Ever since she decided she wanted to go to school on the west coast, I have worried about what all could go wrong.” She looked up with tears in her eyes, “I don’t have to explain to you why, you’re one of the very few people on the planet who would understand why but I couldn’t tell her. And I couldn’t stop her, I mean, she’s just like me. I traveled halfway across the country to go to college myself so in her mind, I should understand.” Vicky shook her head ruefully, “I ran through every horrible scenario in my head, but never did I anticipate wrecking at orientation to be one of them. Please, you have to make sure she’s okay. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if…please make sure she’s okay.”
Jo tried to speak, but found herself unable to. Her phone broke the silence and she looked up with a small smile, “CT is ready for her. I’ll….I’ll show you where you can wait.”
Jo made sure Vicky was settled before rushing to CT, learning the good news that the head injury would just need to be monitored to make sure it did not bleed further. Jo escorted Alexandra to x-ray, feeling responsible for her biological sister in ways she was not expecting. Now that she understood the connection, Jo found herself almost in a trance staring at her younger sibling, suddenly focusing on how much they seemed to have in common, from the shape of their eyebrows to their stubby thumbs. While in the abdominal CT, Alex rushed up behind her, grabbing her by the hips, “Hey. I heard you had an abdominal wound I need to take.”
Jo nodded quickly, “Yep.”
Alex looked at the scans with his eyebrows slowly arching in question, “Jo, what’s up? You’d be able to do this in your sleep and it’s not a pediatric case.”
“I know.” When he continued to look at her, unable to drop the subject, she took a deep breath and let it out with her eyes closed, “She’s my sister, so I can’t be her surgeon.”
Alex looked at her in bewilderment, “Your what? How?” When she looked at him incredulously, he rolled his eyes, “Why is she here? For you?”
“No, she apparently wants to attend UW in the fall. According to her mother anyway.” She cut her eyes down at him, “What?”
“You’re not okay.”
“Which is why I’m handing this off.” She then muttered more to herself than anything, “Should’ve stayed in the stupid lab.”
Alex stood and rubbed her shoulders, “Let me hand this off to Webber.” When she started to protest, he shrugged, “I can’t operate on my sister-in-law anyway.”
Jo was about to respond when she noticed movement from the gurney, “She’s awake.” Jo rushed in and rubbed her hand over her sister’s, “Alexandra? Hey, I’m Dr. Karev, you were in a car accident and need surgery, but you’re going to be okay.”
The younger girl’s voice broke as she tried to hold in her fear, “My mom?”
Jo gave a sad smile, “She’s here, in the waiting room. Probably anxious for an update by now.”
“She’s probably going insane.”
Jo looked up to see Link and Webber walk in, who both explained the procedure she would be having. When they were done, Jo looked back at Alexandra, “Do you have any questions?” When the younger girl shook her head no, Jo smiled softly, “Okay, I’m going to go get your mom and see if your brother and dad have arrived yet, okay?”
Jo rushed out of the room with Alex hot on her trail, “You handled that well.”
Jo looked at him in surprise, “Really, cause I feel like I could hurl.”
“Why don’t I go update the…your….her instead,” he suggested, fumbling all over himself with how to address Vicky.
Jo shook her head, “No, I need to follow through with this,” she explained as they paused in the waiting area. Jo rubbed his arm, hoping he would get the message to give her a little space as she moved towards Vicky, “Ms. Rudin?”
Her mother looked up in surprise at the greeting, “Yes?”
“Alexandra is now awake. She’s asking for you, so I can take you to her if you would like.”
Vicky grabbed her chest and let out a sigh of relief, “Oh thank God. You scared me with that voice and formality.”
Jo looked around, trying desperately to keep a professional demeanor, “I’m sorry. I guess I don’t really know what to call you. Nothing seems to feel right so I’m sorry if I…”
“No, no that’s my fault. Put that on me.” She stared at Jo with sincerity, “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Jo’s voice softened to a near whisper, “Okay.” She looked over to see Alex silently standing guard, waiting to jump in if needed and knew she should take the opportunity to introduce him, “While you’re both in the same room, I’d like you to meet my husband.” Vicky glanced up in surprise, her eyes wide at the sudden revelation as they walked over, “This is Alex.” Jo then looked at him with a smile, “Alex, this is my birth mother, Vicky Rudin.”
Vicky immediately stuck out her hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Alex grinned, “You too, you just don’t know how much.” He then looked at Jo with worry, “I’m getting paged back to the ER….are you okay?”
Jo nodded and rubbed his forearm, “Yeah. I’m good. I’ll probably be back down soon.”
With that, Alex nodded at them both and quickly left, looking back over his shoulder occasionally. Vicky was the first to speak, “He seems lovely. Looks like you’ve done well for yourself.”
Jo nodded in agreement as she hit the elevator button to take them upstairs, “He is, I lucked out.”
“Seems to me that he did too. I know I don’t know you really at all, but in those two seconds I didn’t know it was you and you didn’t know it was me, you seemed entirely competent. And then, I don’t know if you know or not, but in the waiting room there are multiple accolades about you and the work you do here.” There was a brief pause with neither really knowing what to say, with Vicky starting to speak again but slower and more deliberate, “I told my husband about you after our meeting.” Jo looked at her with eyes wide in surprise as she continued, “It wasn’t easy. At all. But he knew something was up and I couldn’t hide it from him anymore. I started counseling again…I just kind of got lost in my own mind for a bit. Daniel and I are going together as well, just trying…” She glanced away and quickly swiped at her cheek, “I say that to say that I haven’t told Josh or Alexandra yet, but I want you to know I plan to.”
Jo shook her head, “You don’t have to. Not for me anyway.”
Vicky nodded quickly as they exited the elevator and met up with the surgical team for her to visit Alexandra and ask questions of Link and Webber. As they moved Alexandra towards the operating rooms, Jo escorted Vicky to the surgical waiting area, “Do you know them? Are they good?”
Jo smiled with a slight nod, “She’s in really good hands.” Jo studied Vicky for a moment, having difficulty leaving her, “Is there anything you need?”
Vicky shook her head quickly, “I know I don’t have the right to ask, and I know you’re incredibly busy, but could you visit a bit?” Jo stared at her in confusion for a moment as Vicky rambled on, “I’m sorry, that’s out of line. Of course you don’t want to, not after last time. I just…”
“No, no that’s not it,” Jo interrupted as she sat in the seat beside her mother, “I just had the impression you never wanted to see me again, so I….I guess I’m just surprised is all.”
Vicky nodded, “I get why you would think that. I just…I’m sorry, so sorry, for the way I acted last time. I just…I wasn’t ready. I should have been. I know that. Thirty-two years I had to prepare but I guess….I don’t know. All I know is I’m sorry. And I’ve replayed that day in the diner so many times and wish I could have a do over.”
Jo smiled and closed her eyes briefly, “Me too. Every day. I just….I had thirty-two years worth of anger and hostility and hope stored up and ready to go and I…I didn’t handle that well. And I didn’t handle it well after I got back. I…checked myself into inpatient psych for a while. I…I did everything backwards. I’m in therapy now and I’m processing through everything, but I should have gone before. I probably would have been better prepared for other scenarios that I may have been confronted with other than you being a hateful bitch.”
Vicky tilted her head, her voice questioning, “Thank you?” Both women laughed softly together as Vicky stretched her back, “You know…all those years…I thought of you every single day.” Jo looked up in surprise as Vicky continued without looking at her, “Every day. Where you were. What you were up to. What color your hair and eyes were. What kind of home you were in. What your favorite subject in school was. The…when Alexandra and Josh hit school everything they did caused me to think about what experience you would have had. What field trips did you go on? Did you play sports? What did you wear for picture day? A million questions. But since you came to Pittsburgh it’s changed.” She looked up to catch Jo’s eyes, “Now its ‘I wonder if Jo’s seen that commercial.’ ‘I wonder if she’s watching this same movie at this same time.’ I changed shampoo not too long ago and as I walked down the grocery aisle, I found myself smelling every bottle to see if I could find yours, just to smell it again. It’s like you’ve somehow become more tangible. Which doesn’t make sense, I know, but it does. Maybe because so many questions got erased by meeting you and now I’ve just replaced them with a whole other gamut of things I don’t know. That’s my new therapist’s guess anyway.” Vicky looked up to meet Jo’s eyes that were brimming with tears, “What I’m trying to say is that I would like to get some of those questions answered if you’d be willing to let me have the privilege of getting to know you.”
Jo sat back in surprise, unsure of how to respond, when suddenly two figures appeared and rushed towards them, “Mom!”
Jo stood quickly and took the opportunity to wipe her eyes as Vicky hugged her son and husband. She suddenly felt very awkward and out of place, so she began to ease herself away when Vicky caught her leaving and summoned her quickly, “Dr. Karev!” At Vicky’s motion for her to return, Jo stepped forward insecurely as Vicky turned to her husband and son, “This is Dr. Karev, she was one of the doctors that worked on Alexandra.” She then turned to her husband giving him a pointed look, “Dr. Josephine Karev.”
Jo nodded politely, “I’ll just go check…”
But she was cut off by Daniel Rudin putting the pieces together. He quickly took her hand and shook it excitedly, “It is really nice to meet you Dr. Karev.”
She smiled shyly, “Jo, please. I’m glad you all are here.”
He let go of her hand and pulled out his wallet, giving Josh a couple of bills and asking him to get a soda for them. When he was out of earshot, Vicky turned back to Jo as her husband put his arm around her shoulders in support, “Before we go home…whenever that may be now. I’d really love to have dinner, maybe the two of us and you with your husband?” Jo was surprised to see Daniel nodding so excitedly, “I probably won’t be able to tell the kids about….everything before then, but I would really love to see you again.”
“That would be nice.” Jo glanced down the hallway to see Josh returning and as a habit reached out to touch her forearm in comfort, ecstatic when Vicky did not jerk away as she had in Pittsburgh, “I’ll go get an update on Alexandra.”
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NATALIA DYER? No, that’s actually ASTORIA GREENGRASS from the GOLDEN TRIO ERA. You know, the child of ELIJAH GREENGRASS and ELIZABETH GREENGRASS (NÉE ROWLE)? Only 20 years old, this SLYTHERIN alumni works as a WIZARDING NANNY and is sided with THE NEUTRALS. SHE identifies as a CIS WOMAN and is a PUREBLOOD who is known to be JEALOUS, FRIVOLOUS, and MATERIALISTIC but also DIPLOMATIC, CHARMING, and NURTURING.
Warnings: PTSD, slight alcohol abuse, depression
HEADCANONS
01. Her parents raised her and her sister with blood purity in mind. That she was to marry a pureblood man and have pureblood children. At first, Astoria was more than okay with that. Was happy to play the part of a simple pureblooded girl. However, after the war and seeing classmates die and families ripped apart all because...of blood? She didn’t want to be part of that world anymore. She’d rather teach kindness and acceptance than spilling blood over ancestry. Her parents, however, do not understand why Astoria can’t be like other pureblood women like Narcissa and Bellatrix. But Astoria has tuned them out, whenever she sees them she tries not to talk about any of her relationships. She doesn’t need them meddling into her life. Astoria, while not completely confident in this, knows she can live her life outside of what her parents think. She’d be lying, however, if she said it didn’t hurt her when they compared her to the other girls or try to steer her back in the Death Eater path.
02. At Hogwarts, she was very ambitious and always tried to rise to the top. Not because she liked her classes or was particularly clever, but because she wanted to be on t o p. She would study relentlessly and stay up making sure her homework was just perfect. She was planning on NEWTS and planning out possible jobs (she wanted to be a curse-breaker). Was focused on carving out her own achievements that did not include blood purity. But then came the war and everything she had been building came crumbling down. Now, her ambitious streak has dried up and she’s lost at what to do. Astoria never returned her 7th year to take her NEWTS and is unsure if she should even try now. Currently, she’s a nanny and l o v e s it and the children. Loves taking care of them and playing with them. For the first time, it feels like she’s actually good at something and she doesn’t have to try so hard. Caring for these children just comes...naturally.
03. Astoria is used to being doted on, whether by her family or friends or whoever she was seeing. But the minute whoever she was seeing at the time gives attention to anyone (but especially another woman) she might as well actually turn green. She’ll force herself by his side and smile all polite, then will talk about how she is his date and ‘who are you again?’. She’s not asking to be the center of attention, but she’d like it if her date didn’t get too close to other women and smile when they got all touchy-feely. Even with just her regular friends, she’ll feel it b u b b l i n g up inside her when they ignore her to talk to other people. Unfortunately, this also means that Astoria believes in the “two can play at that game” mentality at times.
Short Bio
The second-born daughter of Elijah and Elizabeth Greengrass. Her parents had been hoping for a boy, especially after Daphne, but instead Astoria came into the world very early that October morning.
Her mother especially doted on her and was more than happy to give their youngest daughter whatever she wanted. Her father, while he was able to hide it, was still trying to get over the fact that he had no sons to pass on the Greengrass name.
The doting became problematic when it was time for Astoria to head to Hogwarts, she didn’t want to leave her mother who gave her whatever she wanted. Suddenly, being thrown into a whole different world where she had to look out for herself. (The doting still is problematic. Her parents sending her money and gifts that Astoria doesn’t realize is them trying to bribe her back to the path of blood purity.)
Growing up, Astoria looked up to Daphne and looked to them for guidance while at Hogwarts. She was a bit attached to her sibling up until fourth year when she started coming into her own.
And come into her own she did. She flirted with whoever she pleased. Became friends with whoever sat next to her in classes, regardless of house and only had slight reservations about blood purity. She enjoyed the social side of Hogwarts, making connections and friendships and things more than friends. Although watching her friends and boyfriends or girlfriends talk to other people, become close to other people, made her stomach turn. It made her feel as if she was being left behind as if she was as unwanted as last year's dress robes.
School did not come naturally for her, but she worked her ass off to get good grades on her OWLS and to qualify for NEWTS. However, she was doing all of this for the wrong reasons. She did not want to disappoint her parents, who always believed in their children being well-rounded with school, activities and well...finding a pureblood husband. A respectable pureblood husband at that.
After her OWLS came back and she only qualified for two NEWT classes, she really stopped caring about school. She’d skip frequently and hang out with her friends or hook-up with whoever she was seeing.
The war changed everything. Blood purity seemed pointless. School was even more pointless. She tried her best to help students around Hogwarts, to keep them safe. Slowly building up the courage to stand up to the blood purists. Her parents could not believe this and still chose to forget this ever happened. But helping people and standing up to the bullies gave her new confidence. It was much more fulfilling than any class she could take or EE she could’ve gotten.
[TW: Slight PTSD]
Of course, of course, the war took more than it gave to her. She knows she had it much easier than some people, but the aftermath still lingers with her. Still follow her around. It’s hard to care about things she was interested in before, classes and subjects she even enjoyed sparked nothing. Only charms really stuck with her, trying push down the memories of classes where they did their best to ignore...everything that was happening.
Flashing before her are people that couldn’t be saved. The bodies in the Great Hall. Someone said something along the lines of survivor’s guilt.
[TW end]
Astoria did not return to take her NEWTS. Instead, bounced from party to party to social gathering to social gathering to fill her time. Her parents still taking care of her from kilometers and kilometers away. Until one day a neighbor asked her to watch their baby girl and Astoria fell in love with taking of children. Even loved getting up early and going to their large flats or sprawling estates to take care of them. She still loves filling her free time with parties and gatherings, but at least she has a job that she loves. She just wishes her parents could understand that as well.
The time jump...is mostly an annoyance in Astoria’s eyes. Through a series of unfortunate events, she’s found out that she’s not alive in 2029. In fact, she’s been dead for ten years. This is what is most worrisome and plagues her thoughts. She’s not too interested in figuring out why it happened or what caused it.
Character parallels
Sansa Stark (ASoIaF/GoT) + Serena van der Woodsen (Gossip Girl) + Vex’ahlia (Critical Role) + Alison Hendrix (Orphan Black) + Lydia Martin (Teen Wolf) + Rachel Green (Friends) + Emily Fields (Pretty Little Liars) + Glinda (Wicked)
Random Tidbits
She was enjoying her life before the time skip and so it’s annoying that she’s here and not back in 2001. But in Astoria’s eyes not much has to change, she can still be a nanny and go out and about. In the grand scheme of things, she doesn’t take the time skip that seriously...except for...
The fact that she’s supposed to be d e a d here upsets her greatly. She shouldn’t even be here. Her thoughts about this are extreme and she tries to not let it show how upsetting it is. She puts on her happy face and pushes the feelings aside. Other than that, the time skip is just an annoyance.
While Astoria makes a lot of her decisions based on emotions rather than facts or logic, she knows how to keep a cool head even in an argument and is very good about walking away when need be.
Except maybe when it comes to talking to her parents about her life and trying to get them to understand where she’s coming from, she gets very emotional talking to them about it.
[TW: Depression + PTSD + ALCOHOL ]
Is low-key depressed (lack of motivation and ambition, going out and drinking far more regularly, feeling of emptiness and like she’ll never make people proud) but is not medicated and has never and doesn’t want to see a therapist.
Suffers from slight PTSD. Explosions, fireworks, and sometimes just random loud noises still can trigger her as if she’s back at Hogwarts that May. (She chose to stay behind, even though her parents wanted to take her out.)
[END TW]
Tries to put her energy and time into other people so she doesn’t have to think about herself and her own problems.
While most of her friends and Daphne knows, her parents do not know about her bisexuality. And frankly, she’d like to keep it that way.
Is brilliant at charms and was her favorite class at Hogwarts and is a decent dueler.
She only qualified to take two NEWT classes (charms and transfiguration), but other than that her grades fell a bit short despite her best efforts.
Worried that people will leave her, this is mostly based on losing people in the war and her own parents being...not the best.
Personality
Very outgoing and extroverted. Would much rather be around a ton of people — a bar, a restaurant, a party, etc — than be alone. People distract her from the fact that she’s basically a dropout that has no prospects.
Also because she can’t stand to be alone with her thoughts. The memories of the war. Of the destruction. The bodies.
Or her thoughts about her death. She doesn’t know how she died, or why, and frankly she’s not positive she wants to find out.
Empathetic — she’s good at being able to understand people’s feelings and making them feel validated. Meaning she’s also good at getting other people to open up.
Astoria is great with children and adores them. She’s very nurturing and her maternal instincts kick in almost immediately.
This goes for...most people regardless. But she’s especially good with children. But if you’re not a complete asshole or Death Eater, she’ll be nice to you.
Tries to be mostly positive and happy, despite the PTSD and depression. She doesn’t want people worrying about her (especially Daphne).
Being upper-class, she’s materialistic and doesn’t quite understand that not everyone can afford designer brands and have cushy flats. Or understand that some people’s parents can’t just give them money.
She is impulsive and will decide to do something slightly drastic at the drop of a hat. Like dying her hair, going out and getting blackout drunk. And has a hard time saying no to things she probably should not do.
For the most part, Astoria has a hard time taking things seriously. She figures that after surviving a war, she’s allowed to be carefree and not worry about her future or jobs or anything that really entails being an adult. She’s not necessarily worried about being in the new timeline, outside of the fact she’s not supposed to be alive.
Has a mean jealous streak that can extend to from friends to romantic partners to just one night stands.
ABOUT page ⚘⚘
CONNECTIONS page ⚘⚘
#❛ ✩ to hate is lazy love takes strength ✩ ❜ –– Intro#❛ ✩ hello hello everyone! im excited to be here and start rping with everyone! ✩ ❜ –– out of astoria#❛ ✩ i....hope this works? asdgfg i wasn't sure how much to write ✩ ❜ –– out of astoria#quantum intro#❛ ✩ im also working on making a playlist/pin board for her! so i'll add those at some point ✩ ❜ –– out of astoria#❛ ✩ i wasnt sure how much to write adfhjg but im sure ill write a full bio at some point. this week is just hectic ✩ ❜ –– out of astoria#((please excuse my mess of rambling in the tags.....))
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All I Have - A Red Dead Redemption 2 Story - Chapter Nineteen
Reminder that requests are OPEN
Synopsis:
Sage Marston is the younger sister of John Marston, member of the notorious Van Der Linde Gang. After being separated as children, John finds his sister and invites her to run away with him and the gang.
As Sage quickly becomes a member of the family and valued member of the gang, she also falls in love with the charismatic leader, Dutch Van Der Linde. But little does she know, another member of the gang is falling in love with her, as well.
How will Sage cope with being a member of the gang? And what will happen when Dutch begins to lose himself?
Dutch Van Der Linde x OC
Arthur Morgan x OC
Major spoilers for RDR2
While the boys were planning the bank robbery, Dutch had other things on his mind. He wanted revenge. Angelo Bronte had taken his son, then screwed them over and nearly got them arrested, or killed. And Dutch didn’t like being made a fool of.
Dutch had met with a man who had a boat that could get them to the back of Angelo Bronte’s property. He had told Sage all about it. And she wanted to come along.
“You’re not coming,” Dutch had said, “and that’s final.”
“I’m coming.” She said, putting her foot down, literally. “Angelo Bronte took my son from me. I’m going with you to take him down.”
They argued about it for days, with Sage even getting the rest of the boys involved. Everyone but Dutch and Arthur seemed to think she should be allowed to tag along and get her own revenge. They felt it was her right. Dutch and Arthur felt she should stay at camp with the baby, where she would be safe.
Sage eventually won.
Now she sat with Dutch, Bill, John, and Lenny, waiting for Arthur to show up. Dutch had begun talking about escaping to Tahiti, and he now talked with Bill about it. Sage felt like it was something that would never happen, but kept her mouth shut all the same. Once Dutch got an idea, it was all encompassing.
Finally, Arthur approached the boat. He looked skeptical of the whole ordeal, but showed up to help just the same. That’s the kind of guy Arthur was. Loyal til the end.
“Arthur, there you are,” Dutch said. “Come on.”
The group climbed into the boat along with Thomas, the man Dutch had met who was taking them to Bronte’s mansion. It was lucky Dutch had found a man who hated Bronte nearly as much as he did. Thomas pushed the boat away from the dock, and began rowing towards Bronte’s house.
“Hey, Bill,” Dutch began, “you were a sharpshooter in the cavalry, weren’t you?”
“What?” Bill said.
“When we get there, maybe you could help with the suppression fire.”
“I never said I was no sharpshooter.”
“Oh, that’s right, what was it...the nation’s most loyal latrine digger?”
“Yeah, well I fought, and I fought well.”
“So you always tell us…”
“Taught me something you could do with learning. Them Indians were savages.”
Sage gasped. “Bill!”
“Watch your mouth there, boy. Watch it.” Dutch pointed a finger at Bill. “Only type of savage in these parts are moonshine swilling, pompous, inbred locals.”
“Dutch, Sage, I saw things out there,” Bill said.
“I don’t doubt you saw things, Bill, but your tiny little mind was too small to comprehend what you saw. What you saw, was people who lost everything to savagery. The savagery of peasants...failures come from Europe to reap some awful vengeance on God’s last creation.”
“Interesting way you boys got of preparing for a killing,” Arthur said.
“I’m sorry I wasted my life trying to teach you boys, love you though I do,” Dutch said.
“Well, leaving love aside…” Arthur coughed. “You think we got this?”
“Don’t you ever leave love aside, Arthur...it’s all we got.”
The gang made the rest of the trip in silence. Once they reached the edge of Angelo Bronte’s property, Thomas brought the boat to the land, allowing the boys and Sage to hop out. Sage readied her guns, ready for whatever was waiting for her out there. She wanted Bronte for herself - although she wouldn’t mind sharing the revenge with Dutch or John. Their sons had been taken, too.
Thomas wished them good luck, and the gang creeped up to the wall surrounding the property. They climbed over and regrouped on the other side.
“Lenny, Bill, you’re with me,” Dutch said. “Arthur, John, Sage, you take the left side. If you see a shot, you take it. Okay? Good luck.”
They separated, Sage trailing behind John, with Arthur behind her. They went to the left, until they saw two guards standing nearby.
“You see those two?” John asked. “Stay out of sight. You got a shot on ‘em?”
Before either of them could say anything, Arthur took them out with headshots before they even knew what was going on. The rest of the guards, hearing the gunshots, began firing at them. Sage put her revolvers away and pulled out the bolt action rifle on her back, shooting at a guard standing on the balcony to her right.
“We’re coming for you, Bronte! Send out every man you got!” Dutch called, as the gang ended up regrouping in the middle of the property, working together to take out the guards.
Sage glanced over at Dutch, who was caught up in the moment, a malicious expression on his face as he shot at guards with his twin revolvers. He looked almost scary like this. She had only seen him this hell bent on revenge a couple of times in her life.
“Just give up, you bastard! It’s over!” John yelled.
Once all of the guards outside were taken care of, Sage ran to Dutch, making sure he was okay. He was fine, of course, no one in the gang had been hurt.
“This is not over yet! Head to the house!” Dutch said.
Sage followed Arthur to the front door, wanting to be the first one inside. The door was locked tight. Dutch and John stood on either side of the door, preparing to fire, as Arthur took a shotgun from Dutch and shot the lock. He kicked the door in, and Sage began open firing into the house, John and Dutch following behind her.
Sage shot the two guards standing in the hallway before the guys even noticed them. She stepped forward, leading the charge into the house.
“Sage! Step behind us!” Dutch called.
“No,” Sage said simply. “He’s mine.”
The gang took out the rest of the guards inside, Sage taking out most of them. She made short work of them with her overpowered rifle. She had a great aim, thanks to those who taught her to shoot. Before them, she didn’t even know how to hold a gun. Now, her aim rivaled theirs.
“Alright, let’s spread out. He’s hiding somewhere,” Dutch said.
Sage began to walk to the stairs, knowing he was probably hiding in a bedroom upstairs. She would find him, no matter what it took.
“Coming down the stairs!” John called to her.
Sage looked up, spotting a guard just as he aimed the gun at her. Quickly, without even thinking, she lifted her rifle and shot, hitting him right between the eyes. He fell back through the window behind him. She heard John behind her, saying nothing but a quiet “damn”.
“He has to be up here,” Sage called behind her. Although she didn’t care whether they followed her or not. She would take them all on herself if she had to.
She shot another guard in the hallway, before she began opening doors. Another guard was shot in one of the bedrooms - but no Bronte. “C’mon, Bronte…” she muttered to herself.
Finally, she found the one. She shot the guard standing in front of him, then approached the bathtub where Bronte hid.
“John, Arthur, Dutch! In here!” She called back to them, as she approached the tub. Bronte stood, pointing a gun right at her. He attempted to fire, but nothing happened. He looked at the gun, shocked, then simply threw it at her instead. That didn’t stop her in the slightest.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry friend, I...no, name your price! Name your price, everyone has a price!”
“You took my son,” Sage said simply. “You nearly killed my husband.”
“Okay, okay, no, I surrender, I surrender! I-”
John walked up to him, punching him out. Bronte fell to the ground, knocked out cold.
“Should we kill him?” John asked.
“No,” Sage said, just now noticing Arthur standing behind her, who had simply been taking in the scene before him the entire time, waiting to see if she needed him but allowing her to do this on her own. “I want Dutch involved.”
“You can carry him, Arthur. I ain’t touching that piece of shit.”
Arthur walked over, picking up Bronte and slinging him over his shoulder.
“I think Dutch wants to have a little chat, Mr. Bronte,” Arthur said.
The three of them walked out of the room, finding that the law had already shown up.
“Come on, we’re getting the hell out of here!” Bill called to them.
Dutch and Lenny covered Arthur as he ran through the house carrying Bronte, with John and Sage covering the rear this time. They shot the cops that were waiting outside in the courtyard, Arthur still finding some way to do a large amount of the work despite having only one free hand.
“Sorry, boys, nobody’s going to jail today!” Dutch said.
Once most of the cops had been taken care of, the gang made their way to the pick up point. Thomas was waiting there with the boat, as promised.
“Put him in the front,” Arthur said.
Bill helped Arthur get Bronte in the boat, while the rest of the gang climbed in. Lenny came running up at the last second, jumping in as Thomas pushed off the dock. Sage sat in the front, between Arthur and Dutch, with John right behind her. Once they had reached a safe distance away from the property and knew there was no threat to them, Dutch slapped Bronte awake.
“Hey, big man. We gonna ransom you, or what?”
Bronte rolled his eyes. “You’re pathetic.”
“Oh, I am?” Dutch said. “Cause from where I’m sitting, you’re the one deserving of pity, my friend. All your men...all your money...it weren’t no match for a bunch of bumpkins.”
She could see the fear in Bronte’s eyes, though he tried his best not to show it. “You are nothing. You do nothing. You mean nothing. You stand for nothing. Me? I run a city.” Bronte laughed. “And when the law catches up to you, you will die like nothing. I am this country. You...you...you are what people are running from.”
“I possess things that you will never understand.”
“You don’t even possess your own men. A thousand dollars to the man...or woman...who kills him and sets me free.”
The gang simply looked at him, no one moving for their gun, or even thinking about it.
Dutch leaned in close. “What are you gonna say now?”
“They are even bigger fools than you.”
“No doubt.”
“The law will find you. Already the dogs are on the way.”
“Oh yeah. Oh, you’re right. You are so right.” Dutch grabbed Bronte by the back of the neck. “They are good at smelling filth, huh? So filth has got to be...disposed of!” He yelled the last part as he dunked Bronte’s head under the water. “You think you can just take my son and demand compensation for it? You think you can get away with that. What now? Your friends the Pinkertons gonna come and rescue you?” He lifted his head back up, as Bronte gasped for air. “You repulsive little maggot!” Back under. Dutch growled as he held the man’s head under water. “Call them now. You call them!”
Sage watched in fear as Dutch drowned Bronte. Sure, she wanted to see him pay, but this...this was unexpected. This was cruel. This scared her like she had never been scared of her husband before.
Dutch held him under the water until he stopped moving. Then, noticing an alligator approaching the boat, Dutch tossed him over the side and into the water. The alligator disappeared under the water, as they noticed blood pooling around the spot where Bronte had fallen in. Sage was speechless.
“Jesus,” John said. “What part of your philosophy books cover feeding a feller to a goddamn alligator, Dutch?”
“The part that covers weakness. That part.”
The gang began climbing out of the boat, leaving only Dutch, John, Arthur, and Sage.
“I don’t know,” John said.
“Well I do. It ain’t nice, I know it…” Dutch climbed out of the boat. “But it is us, or him. I figure it might as well be him.”
Dutch walked off, leaving the three of them in the boat, gazing into the water. Finally, Arthur and John climbed out, Arthur reaching out a hand to help Sage. She took it, her eyes never leaving the water. John walked off, then, knowing she wouldn’t be moving on her own, Arthur placed a hand on Sage’s back, guiding her away from the dock.
//
That night, Sage didn’t talk to Dutch. She wasn’t avoiding him exactly, she just didn’t have anything to say to him. If she was honest with herself, she was scared of him. She had seen a side of Dutch she had never seen before. And she wasn’t sure what to think of it.
Arthur found himself wishing that she really hadn’t come along. She may have held her own and been safe - not a scratch on her, she really was great in a fight - but she had to see a part of Dutch she wasn’t ready to see. And clearly she couldn’t handle it.
Instead, she surrounded herself with wholesomeness, cuddling her son and spending all her time with Abigail and Jack. She spent a lot of time thinking about what she saw, and whether this life was really for her after all.
Seemed a little late for that.
#rdr2#rdr2 imagine#rdr2 story#rdr2 x oc#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x oc#dutch#dutch van der linde#dutch van der linde x oc#bill williamson#lenny summers#john marston#angelo bronte#angst#arthur morgan imagine#dutch van der linde imagine#imagine#imagine request#imagine requests#rdr2 original story#dutch van der linde x reader#arthur morgan x reader#all i have story#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption 2 imagine#red dead redemption 2 original story#red dead redemption 2 x oc
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The Haunted Manse
The Haunted Manse Part 1: The Ordinary Home
Chapter 4
Unlike the small group of Floral Estate employees and friends that had participated in the tour last night, this group was more numerous. Apparently it had members from nearby ghost and paranormal hunting groups, no doubt to see if this tour really does have paranormal activities that the cemetery once claimed it had before announcing it fully to the public.
But from what Wren had overheard one of the ghost hunters saying in conversation, the last time all of the ghostly hauntings had occurred was over 50 years ago. Could it just be that technology made it harder for teenage pranksters to pull practical jokes on unsuspecting visitors. Or maybe there are still spiritual energies lingering on this hallowed ground.
She stood outside her work van, arms crossed as she kept an eye on a particular group of people; a pair of ghost hunters and a cliche of teenage boys. As the ghost hunters were testing out their equipment in the parking lot, their electronic magnet sensor- or whatever it is they called it- was going off wildly despite the multiple number of times they had resetted it.
"Hey, have you tried turning it off and on again?" taunted one of the young boys who elicited a chuckle from his group. They looked no older than 25.
The pair tried to ignore them, but still the radar screeched yet again as they turned it back on. The batteries were just replaced with a fresh set so of course this got another round of howling laughter from the teenagers. "Maybe that security guard is a ghost, have you checked her yet?" another boy managed to ask. He then turned to a third boy, "Hey, Frank! Film this! We may have a full body apparition here!"
Well, they're not entirely wrong, Wren worriedly thought as she shifted uneasily in her place. She can only hope they dare not get close to her van or ask questions about it.
"Do you guys not have, like, a skateboard stunt to film or something?" the female ghost hunter finally critizited. That got a collection of 'oohs' from the guys.
"Hey, it's not our fault we're so fly, your radar is backing out in shame!" exclaimed Frank, or Wren can only guess is Frank since he was laden with a bag full of batteries and held a camera in his hand.
The lady retorted, "At least our equipment made it to work unlike yours that got cold feet and stayed home!" The boys now 'oohed' Frank at the return the ghost hunter gave him.
"Guys, guys settle down!" Wren piped up before someone started a fight and honestly, she wasn't in the mood to start writing reports.
"Ooh, look at this, the rent-a-cop ghost wants us to stop!"
"Yes, that's right," Wren affirmed, crossing her arms, "I would like for you guys to do so. You're going to annoy the neighbors and if I see so much as one cop car showing up to a report of a noise complaint, I'm sending them your way."
The first teen tried to approach her in a menacing way that Wren didn't like at all. "Is that a threat, pig?"
Wren gulped, hearing the van behind her move just a bit, but it seems that the teen took no notice. "To kick you out, yes. Now come on, I'm giving you a chance to behave. After all, you guys are here to have a good time, you're not here to be screwing around."
The teen was about to say something, but luckily one of his friends came over and pulled him back by his shoulder. "Hey man, leave it alone. We still need this graveyard content for our channel."
Of course, UViewers, why wasn't Wren surprised?
"Fine. . . We'll 'behave' then, pig," he kept emphasising, in hopes of getting a reaction from her. It boiled her blood to hear such insults, of course, but she knew better to hold herself, especially since Frank stood nearby with the video camera recording the confrontation. Seeing that he was getting no response from the security guard, the lead boy finally turned away. "Come on, maybe we'll see if that crazy guy shows up again," he decided, walking away and leading his three friends over to where the tour was meeting at.
The confusion must have been evident on her face, because Wren was approached by the pair of Ghost Hunters they had been antagonizing. "Those boys, honestly. If I were him, I'd chase them out with a shovel too." the male ghost hunter said out loud.
"Are they talking about the butler?" confirmed Wren, glancing a questioning look up at the man.
He nodded as his female partner spoke up, "Yeah. They are self-proclaimed 'Urban Explorers', but all they do is just slander the name and make the real explorers look bad by making up crazy stories and trashing the place up sometimes."
Wren started to feel anger rising at the thought. Granted, she never thought to film any of the locations she been to, but she understood the mysterious nature of exploring old abandoned buildings since she used to explore old properties back in Jalisco where her grandparents came from. But still, a question crossed her mind. "Wait, everyone in the city knows that house isn't abandoned, there's still care takers watching over it, so why are they heckling Mr. Davis?"
They both blinked, even exchanging looks with each other before turning their attention back to her. The woman cautiously inquired, "You're . . . not from around here, huh?" Wren nodded. "Well, that property the house is sitting on is so old, historians cannot agree when it was settled. Some claim that a home -not necessarily this version- had been built on that land since even before the town of Canson was thought up as an idea. Others just say it's been recently cursed by the murdered husband of the last owner of that home. Anyways, years ago, people have swore up and down the road that the ghosts they saw wandering around Canson Cemetery have came from that home."
She gave a shrug as she continued, "So naturally, everyone has been trying to get into that mansion to see if it's true, even if it means trespassing and those boys, the Harbor Squad, are no exception. In fact, they even posted a video this afternoon on their UView Channel about this-" she wrung her hand in the air, " -crazy theory that the butler had something to do with the accident at Newport Beach."
Wren raised an eyebrow, perplexed. "Come on, really? Mr. Davis?"
"Oh yes," the man confirmed, "They have accused him indeed. It certainly doesn't help that Mr. Davis was quite against the building- well, let me back up- he wasn't too against building a museum, he was however vocal about the close proximity to that Newport Beach Cemetery. He even said it will disturb the spirits who rest there. Of course, now after today's incident of the crane breaking and dropping those beams on the cemetery, it looks like he might have been right all along."
"But that goes without saying, there's some people, like those boys, that adamantly claim that Mr. Davis tampered with the equipment and that's why the crane failed, to prove his point."
"Wouldn't they have security cameras?"
"Oh, they do. And they saw nothing on the security footage so they are looking into the machines itself to see where it broke. We both don't believe that it was Mr. Davis that did it. It could have been a simple freak accident is all. Anyways, I'm Tom and this is my sister, Ann," introduced Tom, "You know anything about this tour?"
"Honestly no, I haven't taken it myself yet," she replied, sweeping a hand at the parking lot, "I'm just here for security and to watch the cars. . . and to make sure people don't do things they shouldn't be doing." Wren added, rolling her eyes.
"Oh," Ann said, "Well, even if we don't see anything on the tour, I know we will learn some history of the residents here at Canson. I heard that Lisa is a really good town historian, so I'm excited to see how well she does as a ghost tour guide."
"Same, now-uh . . ." Tom squinted to read Wren's nametape. "Songbird? Unique name."
The guard chuckled, "Right? And here's the real kick, my dad named me 'Wren' too."
The two ghost hunters burst out laughing, taking them a while to compose themselves. Before Tom could ask her what he had on his mind, Wren's radio suddenly buzzed to life. "Security staff, this is Lisa! I just watched about four people jump the fence to the mansion!"
Those damn kids. Wren keyed her mic, "This is Songbird, I'm on my way over. Dale, go to the front and make sure they leave there. Jeff, report to Canson eastside!"
"Copy," Jeff replied, the revving of his truck engine was heard over the radio, confirming that it was indeed the truck roaring in the distance, "Responding from Lotus Lawn in 2."
The guard quickly apologized to Tom and Ann as she jumped into her own van and quickly took off through the parking lot, the whole time uttering explicative to herself. Foxy barely held on to the the passenger seat in from of him as the van lurched forward, swinging around his hand to grip on the seat instead of using his hook to damage the company vehicle. Racing to the other end of the lot to catch up to the boys she knew was the Harbor Squad, the van tore past the tour guide Lisa as she pointed out which wall the teenagers had jumped over. Wren finally slammed on the brakes, the van came to a screeching halt and pulled up the E brake on her van. She glanced up at the wall as she reached up to her radio mic again, ignoring the look of displeasure from the robot fox who had just slammed into the passenger seat from the sudden deceleration.
"Dispatch, can you get the sheriffs to roll in-" In mid-broadcast, Wren was interrupted by the sound of yelling. She poked her head out the window, this time hearing that the sound was coming from the other side of the wall. No sooner had she stepped out of her van, and as the tour guide and her small group of ghost hunters got closer to watch, the Harbor Squad was literally scrambling and throwing themselves over the brick wall to get away from the yard. They even toppled over each other as they crashed back onto Canson Cemetery property once again.
A bright flashlight beam shone on the teens. "Don't move!" barked Jeff, shining not only his flashlight at them, but Wren realized that he also had his taser out and aimed at them. "Don't you guys dare freaking move or I'll taze you!"
"Whoa-whoa-whoa! Hold it there Jeff!" Wren protested, but secretly she was grateful that he was there regardless.
"Hey man! That crazy old man almost killed us with a shovel!" the apparent leader of the ragtale group cried out, "Get the police, I want him arrested for assault with a deadly weapon!"
"Oh sit back down!" Jeff retorted, "You're not in any place to be making police reports!"
The second teen yelled back, "We were just recording video of the cemetery! He didn't need to try to kill us!"
"So you do admit to trespassing on private property?" The tour guide pointed out, placing her hands on her hips as she leered at the Harbor Squad. Now the teens couldn't help but stammer, trying to find the right words to get them out of the guilt they unwittingly admitted.
As Frank was about to come up with his excuse, a flood light suddenly shone on the gathering crowd, causing them to all turn to look at where the source was coming from. There sat a Secret County Sheriff patrol car, along with two officers that stepped out of the car. While the passenger officer was a middle-age man dressed in the tactical version of the Secret County uniform with cargo pockets and a loaded plate carrier, the driver was dressed in his regular uniform, with a blue neck tie and surprisingly a 10 gallon cowboy hat sat atop his greying head.
"Alright, everyone settle down," the driver of the patrol car casually announced, leisurely strolling over to the group, "What seems to be the problem?" The elder officer glanced at Jeff. "Easy there, son. You can put that away, we got a handle here." He paused for a second, "In fact, why don't you start us off? Tell me, what happened here, son?"
Jeff obeyed and holstered his his taser. "I was just detaining them. My coworker here Songbird was the first to respond."
"Really?" the officer looked over at her as Jeff gestured towards her, "Well, alright young lady, what happened here?"
Wren nervously looked around and turned her attention to the deputy, trying to ignore the stares of the others. "Well sir, you see, I was at my post right there in the parking lot. Our company, Floral Estates, is doing a test run of sorts for a new ghost tour, and these four suspects-"
"Suspects?!" bellowed the teen leader, looking offended that she dare described them as such, "We were victims of that mad man!-"
The kid was silenced when the deputy raised his hand up. "Easy now son, we'll get to your side of the story in jus' a bit. Go on, Ms. Songbird."
"Right, uh," Wren fidgeted in one spot, "So they were being rowdy in the parking lot when they got here and bullying two ghost hunters. When I walked up to confront them, they all left so I thought they were going over to the tour meeting spot, but then our tour guide, Lisa, notified us on the radio that she watched them jump the wall, so I coordinated with my coworkers to help me find them." She took a glance at the boys and could see they where still leering daggers at her. "Then as I pulled up, I heard screaming and watched as they jumped over the fence -in a mad panic might I add- back here onto Canson. And now they want to file assault charges against Mr. Davis."
"Hmm, that so? And uh, Ms. Songbird, if I’m not mistaken those cameras up thar' would have caught everything they did, right?" the deputy asked. Without even looking at the direction, he accurately pointed up to the light post sitting just off to the side, a security camera aimed right at the group.
The boys were paling, realizing now that they would not be able to lie their way out of this. "Please, officer, we mean no harm. We-we were just trying to film a video, it wasn't like we were going to rob the place! Even Frank recorded that crazy man chasing us and-and we did nuthin’ to provoke him!" the leader tried pleading with the officer.
The deputy scoffed, tipping the brim of his hat up to get a good look at the boys. "Son, you're in Secret County, if there's a trespasser on his property, he actually had every right to shoot you young 'uns where you stood! You boys are lucky to get off with being chased away." Then he shrugged, "But I'll let you humor me. Go ahead and show me this video you recorded and I'll decide what to do."
"Ye-yeah Frank! show him how he tried to attack us!" the second teen urged the camera boy, nudging him in his ribs to force him to get up faster. So Frank stood up and went over to the two deputies. Wren could hear him start the video from the beginning. He tried vainly to fast-forward the beginning, but clearly, the guard could hear that they were conspiring to try to enter the mansion. She glanced up to read the faces of the officers, but they both seemed unfazed, continuing to watch the camera screen. Frank then played it at normal speed the part where the boys had begun to climb the wall, then suddenly silence.
Panic started to cross Frank's face as he replayed the video, allowing it to play at normal speed this time. "I-I swear sir," he gulped loudly, trying to talk over the audio, "I thought I was filming it!" The video stopped once again in the same spot. Desperately, he flipped through other videos in the camera's memory card in an attempt to find the suppose film of the attack, but he was unable to procure the film.
"Well, it's OK son," the deputy placed his large, wrinkled hand on Frank's shoulder, "you probably ran out of film, it happens all the time."
"But- but it's a fresh memory card-"
"However," he continued, smoothing his mustache down with his other hand in thought, "if you tried to show that you boys clearly intended on breaking and entering the property to the judge, then she may have to go ahead and charge you with-well- breaking an' entering. Now, none of you good boys want that on yer record, now do you?"
All the boys faces dropped in fear. Suddenly the second deputy spoke, unlike the elder deputy, his voice was stern and cold. "Lucky for you four, Mr. Davis doesn't like to press charges. So I suggest you all go straight home and don't come back to the house or even to the cemetery." He took a step towards the other 3 members of the Harbor Squad. Menacing looking down at them. "If we catch you pulling this stunt again, I'm going to charge you all with trespassing, is that understood?"
The teens all turn to look at Frank, giving him dirty looks as if they were accusing him of daring to betray Harbor Squad. The lead boy got up, tugging at his jacket to straight the fabric out. "Understood, sir. We'll leave right away. Come on guys."
The onlooking paranormal hunters quickly parted a path for the Harbor Squad to get back to their vehicle, the tactical deputy walking behind them to make sure all four got to their cars without vandalizing the property along the way. "Well folks," the elder deputy started, turning to look at the rest of the crowd, "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"We're good, sir," Wren answered, "Thank you so much for coming quickly."
"Anytime, hope you folks get to see a lot of ghosts on your tour there." He gave them a wave and got into his patrol car, driving over to pick his partner up from the parking lot.
"Sorry for the extended delay everyone!" Lisa quickly apologized, adjusting her microphone headset on her head. "The tour will continue if you wish to participate, this way please and we'll first visit the tomb..."
Wren pulled her attention away from the tour and walked over to Jeff. "Hey, thanks man, I had no idea how I was going to stop those dudes."
Jeff hiked up his belt, but it was crammed full of so many leather cases, gear, and flashlights that it simply slid back down over his gut. "Not a problem, Songbird. It's not the first time some kid jumped over the wall after all."
"And no ghosts came to try to spook you either?" she half-jokingly inquired.
"Nope, everything was normal; the lights turned off at their usual time, no disembodied voices, and no dancing skeletons." Jeff checked the time on his watch, "Well, I gotta go do my rounds again, didn't get a chance to finish patrolling Lotus Lawn. I'll see you around."
As Jeff got into his truck, Wren turned her attention to the parking lot and spotted the small, but very loud, buzzing car drive past the cemetary gates and Dale, who was holding the gate open for them to leave. Of course, the Harbor Squad turned left on a red light and then purposely sped past the mansion, revving the car's engine no doubt to cause noise at the mansion's residents before disappearing around the turn. The patrol car paid no mind, lazily waiting at the traffic light for the light to turn green. Once it did, the Crown Victoria slowly turned left at the intersection and followed after the teen boys at a cruising speed.
As Wren watched the black and white patrol car drove by, her eyes stopped on one part of the fence. There on the iron fence perched a rather large crow. Normally, she would dismiss the sight, but something about that bird gave her a slight chill. Then as the patrol car drove out of sight, that's when she noticed it. Even though the corvid had its back turn towards Wren, she could clearly see the bird's head moving and tracking the patrol car's movement.
The bird was watching the two cars drive by the cemetery.
It must have sensed Wren staring a hole into its back for the crow suddenly lifted its head in attention and in that instance, turn to look at her. She sucked in a gasp for the crow had not only crimson eyes, but they glowed too. It tilted its head in thought at her, keeping eye-contact with Wren. After a long stare-down, the crow all of a sudden winked and took off, flying towards the mansion.
"Don't you ever sleep, Mr. Davis? I mean, it would probably help, improve those dark bags under your eyes." The butler had his back to the security guard, ignoring her as he continue to till the soil around a fragrant rose bush. Nearby sat a wheelbarrow with gardening supplies and his carefully placed outer green jacket and gloves so dirt would not soil his clothes. Wren, still on the public side of the iron and brick fence, shifted a bit. The brick pillar she was leaning on causing her slight discomfort.
She took a glance around the property, even with the skies a baby blue with the rising dawn, the land was still heavily shadowed. "So, where's Mr. Crump? Not to sound like an ignorant jerk, but since he's the groundskeeper, shouldn't tending to the plants be his job and not yours?" she egged on. Another air of silence came from the butler, only the sound of the rusting spade shifting through the dirt rhythmically responded.
She looked slightly sullen at his lack of a response, crossing her arms. Finally, she asked, "Are you burying your last sacrifice-?" Wren barely got her last question out when Davis suddenly missed and hit a brick that lined the garden bed. The noise pierced the air.
"Sacrifice?" he repeated, leering over his shoulder at her, "Where did you come off with such a radical idea?"
"Eyy, there's the Mr. Davis I know," Wren smirked widely. "Come on, you did something to erase that idiot's film off his camera, didn't you?"
He scowled at her a while longer. "Young lady, do you not have anything else to better spend your time on?" he grumbled. He placed the spade against the wheelbarrow and lifted up a bag, grabbing a handful of what Wren can only hope is plant food and scattering it on the soil.
She hummed in thought. "Not really. I just got off work. This diner I normally go to is crowded at this time of the morning anyways."
Eugene knitted his brows as he looked back up at her. "This diner you speak of, does it allow reservations to be made? If so, suppose I call this diner up and place a reservation in your name, will you then leave this home alone?"
Wren looked surprised. "Oh my God, you have a phone?"
"Of course we do, young miss. If it surprises you even further, we have indoor plumbing and electricity as well," he mentioned in a jesting matter. With the bag set back in the wheelbarrow, he began to clap his hands together, dusting off the loose soil on his gardening gloves. "Now, under what name shall I reserve you as; the 'annoying lady' or the 'stubborn thorn'?"
"You really have a phone? I mean, with the way Mr. Crump was dressed," Wren stammered, still somehow awed by the mere fact that such a modern invention like a phone existed in such an old-fashion antebellum home. "Is it . . . Is it like a rotary phone or something?"
"Mr. Crump is a very old fashion sort of fellow, he likes to use an oil lamp and . . ." he paused, but sighed, resigning to answer her. "And yes. . . it is indeed a rotary phone." His blue eyes looked off to the side in thought. "Admittedly, not much has changed inside the mansion itself, I suppose."
"That's so cool!" she exclaimed, gripping her hands in a pair of fists in excitement. "Even in a creepy old house with demonic energies, you guys still have a rotary phone!"
Eugene made a wry face. "Please, tell me those boys did not filled your head with those ideas?"
"No sir. I saw this crow with these little beady red eyes last night. I figure that he must be your pet or something because he flew over to this house."
"Listen, young miss, please," the butler huffed. He pulled his gloves off and tossed them on the wheel barrow in exchange for his coat and white gloves. "This is now the third time I'm pleading with you. There is nothing in our house to be concern about. We do not have witches, wizards, or goblins and we certainly do not have demons haunting our home."
"So, are you saying that the crow I just saw last night was just my imagination then?" Wren accused, lifting an eyebrow. Mr. Davis approached the iron fence, gazing hard into Wren's eyes as he adjusted the cuff around his wrists.
"Just like everything else you think about the manor," he leaned slightly forward, "You are merely just a young thought gone wild." He suddenly stopped. His icy blue eyes no longer on Wren, rather they darted up and focused on something over Wren's shoulder.
Now aware, she could hear the high-pitch squeal of a vehicle slowly braking behind her. "Is everything alright, Mr. Davis?" asked the voice behind her.
Honestly, she didn't need to look, Wren could already recognize the voice as the sheriff deputy who responded to the incident at the cemetery last night. But she did anyways, turning around to see the patrol car right within arm's reach of her. The passenger window was rolled down as the older deputy was leaning forward on his steering wheel to look at Wren and Eugene. He nodded his head at Wren, "Is this young gal causing you trouble?"
"Well, I," the 'gal' started, but she was at a loss of words. Honestly, Wren was in fact giving Eugene trouble with her interrogating questions about the mansion.
"Everything is fine, Deputy Buchanan," Eugene suddenly answered to Wren's surprise and relief. His face had flawlessly changed back to his indifferent servant's look, "I was merely having a conversation with Ms. Songbird while I was working the gardens."
Deputy Buchanan raised a bushy eyebrow, perplexed at what he had just heard. "Working the garden? At 6 in the mornin'?"
Eugene nodded. "You see, those trespassers have trampled over our roses. Our groundskeeper is gone for the evening and I'm afraid if I left it for his return, they may wilt and die from care. So I had spent the rest of the evening repairing the damage they had done," he explained, elegantly waving a hand over the garden. "Ms. Songbird here was kind enough to pay me a visit."
"Told you we should have taken them in," the second deputy mumbled to the driver, but he quietly hushed him.
"Is that so?" Buchanan questioned Wren. She nodded furiously. "Well," he smiled, "It's good to see that some youngsters still have time to say hello to their neighbors these days. Well, just checking to see that you were alright. We'll be on our way, so don't hesitate to give us a call if they come back. Have a good day and sorry for the intrusion." Deputy Buchanan tipped the brim of his hat down as his coworker simply lifted a hand up to acknowledge the two. The Crown Vic puttered on down the street.
"They had been patrolling the road all night," Eugene pointed out, watching along with Wren the leaving patrol car. "No doubt they wanted to make sure those miscreants wouldn't come back."
"Mr. Davis," started Wren. "Thank you."
His eyes swiveled back to her. "Whatever for?"
"That- I mean, you know- for telling them that I wasn't bothering you even though we both damn well know that I was."
"I've mentioned it before, young miss. You seem like a decent security guard and it would pain me greatly if you were to get into trouble and had to be moved elsewhere despite. . . all of the constant barrage of ridiculous questions you have about the mansion."
"Still, you could have shooed me away. Well, thanks. Hopefully, we won't get another set of idiots trying to jump the wall again tomorrow night." Wren pulled the sleeve of her jacket and consulted her watch for the time. "Anyways, it's almost 6:30 and I'm starving. So I'm going to get going. You take care of yourself, seriously, Mr. Davis," she pointed a finger at him.
"Likewise," nodded Eugene. Once Wren had returned back to her car that was parked a little down Esplanade Road, the butler turned to scowl at the tree branches above him. Deep in the branches and hiding in the shadows was the red-eyed crow who only returned a smug smile at him.
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Supernatural AU: Episode 2- Phantom Traveler
Part 3
Bobbie came out of the dressing room of the small store, closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. “I feel so weird right now.”
Jeans, a t-shirt, crapp knock-off converse or vans and a leather jacket. That’s what she was used to. That was the Bobbie Deanna Winchester uniform. Standing here in a pencil skirt, white blouse (tucked into the skirt of course) and fitted blazer with the most plain, black shoes? Hell, absolute hell. One of the many reasons she never would’ve made it outside of the hunter’s life.
Sam snickered under his breath. “You look like a businesswoman who’s wearing her mother’s clothes because she can’t afford any of her own. Like you’re playing dress up.”
“I hate you.”
The three of them had come to this particular store because it was cheap. The hunter’s life was not lucrative. When her brothers emerged from their dressing rooms clad in black suits with long, skinny ties, she threw her head back and laughed. She always got the last laugh. “You look like the Blues Brothers.”
“Shut up. We look cool.”
“That’s highly debatable.”
Even with shoddy “uniforms” and even worse IDs, all it ever took was a bit of confidence to get where they needed to go. Inside the warehouse, pieces of the plane were scattered about like fallen crumbs. “This is all they were able to find?” Bobbie couldn’t believe it. Every inch of what they’d found was burnt to a crisp. If the plane looked this bad, she hesitated to think what the crash had done to the passengers.
Behind her, Sam and Dean walked in the opposite direction, gliding back and forth between the pieces of the wrecked plane with the EMF meter that Dean had made out of an old Walkman. It looked like hell, but it worked. “What did you expect me to do?” She heard Dean ask their little brother.
“I don’t know…buy one? Anything except walking around with that glorified Walkman.”
“This is a Walkman! We’re hunters, man! What about no money do you not understand?” He shook it proudly in front of Sam’s face. “I made it myself.”
“We made it!” Bobbie screamed.
Bobbie shook her head and smiled. Still bickering like little children after all this time. Meeting up in the middle of the room, all three of them descended upon the emergency exit door. Like everything else it was covered in black ash. The handle though was tinged with something else they couldn’t immediately identify. Dean leaned in to scrape some off into a vial. “I think I know what it is,” he said.
With a little further examination, Sam and Bobbie did too. They’d have to have Jerry test it out to know for sure, but if it was what they were thinking, then the Winchester kids did have a demon on their hands – a demon whose sole purpose was destruction on a massive scale.
A sense of dread hung in the air for a moment when the cracking of an opening door and a herd of incoming footsteps interrupted them. “Move,” Sam whispered harshly. They ran quickly out the door before anyone could catch them but then an alarm went off.
“Shit!” Bobbie picked up her pace and threw her blazer over the fence before jumping up and over. It was probably for the best that she wasn’t wearing her leather jacket because then it would have the tears in it rather than the damned blazer. Dean copied her, throwing his suit jacket over the fence and Sam didn’t even bother. If they got caught impersonating Homeland Security they were royally fucked.
Somehow they managed to get into the Impala and peel off and away without getting caught. They had a habit out of getting out by the skin of their teeth. One day it would backfire on them, but today was not that day.
-
Just outside was what he feared most. Coincidentally it also ran in his blood. Chuck Lambert had always wanted to be a pilot, but then tragedy struck out of nowhere. He felt like it was his fault. On his watch more than 90 people died. How was he ever supposed to get behind the wheel of a plane again? “Baby steps,” he muttered to himself as his heart raced.
After much coaxing from a friend, he’d agreed to fly a small jumper plane. Actually driving something smaller might make him feel like he had some control again. It had so painfully slipped through his grasp before; he couldn’t let it happen again. He wouldn’t survive it.
As he rubbed at the searing pain in his head, he stilled. Now he felt fine. Like he was a whole new man.
“Ready to go, Chuck?”
The pilot’s friend had been weary about him getting back into a plane so soon, but Chuck was the kind of man that needed to get back on the proverbial saddle. He wasn’t going to be convinced otherwise. “Yea, let’s go.”
When they walked outside into the cloudless day, he asked Chuck one last time how he was feeling.
“I’m great,” he said with an earnest smile. “I actually feel really good.”
He’d been so nervous just a few minutes earlier. What the hell had gotten into him?
Despite what he’d been through less than a week earlier, all seemed well as they picked up off the ground. “How long have we been up?” Chuck asked.
Honestly, he hadn’t even noticed. Looking down at the watch at his arm, he spoke. “About 40 minutes.”
“Wow, time really does fly,” Chuck said.
In an instant, Chuck tipped the plane toward the ground.
-
On the way back to the motel, Jerry called to confirm their suspicions. The stuff on the handle was sulfur – indicative of a demon. Dammit. “Why the hell would a demon possess someone to kill an entire plane?” Dean asked. “Don’t demons normally go for the one on one?”
“They do,” Bobbie said as she cleared her throat.
Sam leaned back into the seat of the Impala and raked his hands through his hair. “Do we even know what we’re doing?” He asked.
“What do you mean?”
They were used to vampires and werewolves and vengeful spirits. This was all together different and much more difficult. On top of that it was a demon that was causing damage on a larger scale.
“I mean we thought it was a demon before. We don’t know how to handle them, not specifically anyway, and now we have confirmation that it is actually a demon, so what are we going to do?”
Dean straightened in his seat, demeanor changing in the face of Sam’s doubt. “We do know what to do. We just haven’t done it before. We’re going to go back to the room. Delve into all that lore you love so much and figure out how to track it down and the exact exorcism we need to use. Then we’ll do it. We have to stop this Sam. You know we do.”
“I know,” he replied taking a deep breath. “I just wish Dad was here.”
He’d know what to do.
-
An hour later, Sam’s fingers were still gliding over the pages of all the research they could gather on demons. “So get this,” he said suddenly. “Some cultures believe that certain demons cause particular disasters, both natural and unnatural. So there would be a demon or hurricanes, a demon for earthquakes, a demon for plane crashes…”
Dean blinked in surprise as he tipped the bottleneck of a beer toward his mouth. “So…what? A demon just found a way to ratchet up the body count?”
“It makes sense,” Bobbie interjected. “That’s a demons drive. Death and destruction. It could be a demon that’s been one for so long that killing one by one just doesn’t do it for him anymore.”
“Jesus.”
“Yea. Alright Sam, can you scan Dad’s journal for what exorcism to use?”
“Sure, but we haven’t even found it yet.” Sam replied.
“But if we happen upon it, we need to be prepared.”
“Okay, yea, I’ll do that. What about you?”
“I’m going to get us some beer.”
Dean smirked as he drank the last of the beer he had left. “I knew you were my favorite sister.”
“I’m the best you’ll ever get.”
-
Sure the store was just down the road, but stealing the keys to the Impala and the running like a bat out of hell from her baby brother was much more fun. Him giving her the finger as she drove away made her feel like she had a normal family for a split second. Dysfunctional sure, but normal.
However, once she was out of his sight the smile drained from her face. They were so in over their heads. It had been that way since they were children. Neither Dean nor Bobbie had been able to get a hold of John, but she pulled out her phone again on autopilot. Even as the oldest of the three of them, she still needed her father and she wasn’t afraid to admit it – to herself at least.
“Hey Dad,” she said softly, her voice shaky as she tried to keep her composure. “Dad, we’re in over our heads. We’ve got a demon on our hands. You’ve handled these before. We haven’t. If you are getting these messages, can you call me? We need you.” Bobbie’s lip quivered as the anger bubbled over. “I can practically hear your response. ‘You don’t need me, Bobbie. You are stronger than I’ve ever been.’ Well, you know what, that may be true, but I’ve had to be your emotional sounding board and their mother since I was five because of your fucking vendetta. I’ve had to be an adult for 21 years and I want my damn father to show up and do his job. You’re not just a hunter and a husband. You’re a father. Act like it.” With shaking hands, she ended the call and threw the phone to the bottom of the car. When she returned from her beer run, she heard it buzzing on the floor.
In a perfect world, it would’ve been John, saying he was sorry and that he’d be there as soon as he could. She wouldn’t have accepted the apology right away, but it would’ve been a step in the right direction. Unfortunately they didn’t live in a perfect world. Instead it was Jerry. “Hey Jerry. What’s up?”
“My pilot friend, Chuck. He’s dead.”
“I’m so sorry,” she replied. “What ha-“
“His plane went down in a field outside Nazareth.”
-
Indulging in a couple of beers with family was something that normal people did. Instead, Bobbie rushed back to the motel and informed her brothers of Jerry’s phone call. “Where’d it go down?” Dean asked.
“Right outside Nazareth.”
Sam couldn’t help but see the connection. It was yet another nail in the proverbial coffin that said ‘this is a demon, you should probably back off.’ “That can’t be good.”
It took the three of them about a half hour to get there. It should’ve taken about 45 minutes, but with Dean behind the wheel you could always count on getting to your destination 10 or 15 minutes ahead of schedule.
An enormous plume of black smoke greeted them as they drove down the road toward the crash site. Jerry was already there of course, shake to his core that two planes had gone down in less than a week, one carrying a dear friend. “We have to hurry here. The authorities will be here again soon and I can’t explain the three of you away.”
Sam quickly climbed into the open cockpit being careful to leave little evidence of their search behind. “There’s sulfur.”
“What does that mean?” Jerry asked. A momentary hint of panic flashed behind his gray-green eyes.
Dean pointed him toward his car. “Let’s go back to your office and talk there.”
The second they were back in Jerry’s office he demanded to know what was happening. “You were right,” Dean started. “It wasn’t mechanical failure. It was a demon.”
Jerry’s eyes went wide. “What? Are you serious? Like hell spawn demon?”
“Unfortunately,” Bobbie replied.
Sam went on to explain what demonic possession was actually like. “It’s likely Chuck was possessed before he got on the plane.”
“But how?”
“Demons seek out people who are in a state of weakness. They can take over stronger people, but if someone is sick or ridden with anxiety or even just has a cut it’s easier for them to take over,” Bobbie explained, turning towards Dean and Sam. “Did you notice how the plane went down after 40 minutes?”
Dean nodded.
“2485 went down after 40 minutes too,” Jerry said slowly. “What does that mean?”
Taking a deep breath, Sam told Jerry what they’d only just put together themselves. “Forty is biblical numerology. Like 40 days in the desert. The number stands for death.”
“Remember when the EVP said no survivors,” Dean asked, “but we all knew that made no sense because there were survivors. That’s because the demon is going after everyone that survived 2485.”
@remember-me-forever-silent-angel @gaylemonshark @marveldivergentouatdctvfangirl @lalirang @averagekansan @addsomesalt @stusbunker @sebba-hiddles @fanfictionrecommendations-com @hoppy519 @thatwrestlingfan91 @extremeobsessions101 @spence-imagines @bettercallsabs @whaaatthefuuuuck @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @your-imagination-runs-wild @cryinglots @steggy01 @gigilame @sedulous-mind @a-unique-girls-heaven @just-antiyou @rmmalta @original-criminal-fanfics @ties-n-suits @veroinnumera @eurusholmmes @fanficienjoyedreading @astridstark13
#supernatural#supernatural au#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fanfiction series#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester#sam winchester#bobbie deanna winchester#born to fire#phantom traveler#s1ep2
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The Last Time I Dated A Friend’s Brother
Growing up, I had this best friend named Haley, and I spent a lot of time at her house. Haley, Sarah, and I were like the three amigos. We did everything together. I smoked weed for the first time in a tent in her backyard. She had an older sister who was away at college, and a little brother who always seemed to be around. It was like this kid had no friends, he was always bothering us. He was super annoying, and I vividly remember actually punching him one time because he wouldn’t leave us alone. I heard a few years after high school he had been dating a mutual friend, Amelia, and that they had a baby together. I was happy for them, and that was probably the only time I ever thought about him as an adult.
After my breakup with John, I decided to get on Tinder. I was having a hard time getting over him, and the idea of getting into a new relationship was not even on my radar. Instead, I was pursuing a casual dating situation. This was my first foray with this dating app and I met a few fun guys, and had some good dates, but nothing serious. I was traveling for work one week, and it occurred to me that Tinder matched based on location. So, while I was in North Carolina, I deleted the app to avoid matching with someone great that would be too far away. On the way back, sitting in the back of my coworker’s car while everyone was sleeping, I was bored so I downloaded the app, to check my messages, and started to swipe again as we got closer to home.
I saw a very familiar face, so I swiped right to dig a little deeper. Immediately, I got a match notification. I cracked up when I realized he was Haley‘s little brother, Matt. When we were kids he seemed so much younger than us, but in truth it was only four years age difference. But he had grown up a lot and got pretty cute over the years. He messaged me first, “If you promise not to hit me again, I would love to see you!” I responded with about four lines of HAHAHA, followed by “holy shit, how are you?” We chatted for a couple days and found that we had a lot more in common than we ever knew before. We were quickly bonded, and our conversations turned a little flirty. Eventually, we decided to hang out, and he came to my apartment with his son.
Now, I know that seems weird, and even now writing it if feels weird because… can you imagine meeting somebody’s kid on the first date? But I’ve known this guy like my whole life I just felt like he was a longtime friend introducing me to his kid! We hung out and played cars on my living room floor, while Matt and I caught up. His son was funny, adorable, and bad! Like, Dennis the Menace bad. Matt told me a little bit about his relationship with his ex, Amelia. It sounded a little difficult, but I had no idea how toxic it really was. In the beginning, I didn’t even weigh this into my decision to date Matt.
My bigger concern was Haley. We hadn’t spoken for years. The summer after Senior Year, I got the opportunity to travel abroad with some fellow students. This was a very eye-opening experience, and I was exposed to a lot of things in Europe that I hadn’t encountered in the US. When I got home, I told Haley that I kissed a girl. I hadn’t really worked through my feelings about it, but it wasn’t any kind of declaration of sexual identity… it was just confiding in a friend that I had a new experience. Haley told our friend Sarah that I was a lesbian. Sarah worked with my sister, and told her… and then my sister told my mom. So, here I thought I was just sharing a secret with a friend, and I ended up having to explain to my mom that I wasn’t lesbian. The truth is, I don’t know what I am, even now at almost 36 years old I don’t know. I have never had nor pursued a romantic relationship with a woman, but I’ve definitely been attracted to them. I don’t know if that needs defining either, because I don’t believe that sexuality is binary. Anyway... what I didn’t know, was that she didn’t think that was a big deal. She hadn’t spoken to me because I didn’t invite her to my very small wedding. I barely invited any friends, it was mostly family there. We had approximately 50 guests, there was one friend from high school (who knew my husband well) and a handful of friends from work (who were also friends with Joe). I hadn’t spent any amount of time with Haley since she told my secret.
But, Matt assured me that Haley still loved me and his family would accept me with open arms, and he was totally right. Being with his family again was like being in high school. But I dont want to mislead you, Haley and I didn’t pick up where we left off. She had new best friends, and so did I. But it was still cool, and we were cool. Once I had his family’s blessing, it didn’t take long for us to start dating, and for me to start coparenting his child. His ex-girlfriend, Amelia was a former friend of mine, but now treated me like I was a stranger. I don’t know with what went on in her life in the 10 years since we last hung out, but she was not the most mentally stable person. It affected the kid and deeply affected Matt.
He was very much a pacifist and never stood up for himself in their relationship. His vain attempts at trying to coparent were constantly thwarted by her miserable attitude and unreasonable, aggressive communication style. She had a horrible time keeping a job, and it seemed like our custody schedule would change as frequently as week to week. I encouraged Matt to get an official custody agreement with the courts, but he was honestly afraid of her taking the kid away from him completely, so he would lay down to her demands all the time. It was infinitely frustrating to stand by and watch her make him feel like less of a man. And honestly, sometimes it made me see him as less of a man, too.
I tried to create some stability at home by moving us in together. I bought a house out of necessity, because a 2-or-3 bedroom apartment would cost much more than buying a home in Northern Virginia. Our first couple months in the house were met with tons of problems. We moved in at the end of December. By the time we got everything unpacked and settled, we discovered bed bugs. It was hard to discern whether they had been transferred from the moving van, or the house Matt lived in before, or if they had always been in the house I purchased. Ultimately the source didn’t matter as much as the remediation, so we asked Amelia to help us out and take her son when it wasn’t “her week”. She completely blew the situation out of proportion and called CPS on us for endangering their son, when we were really trying to protect him. We had pets we had to move to his sister’s house, and we slept in her basement while our house was being treated. If you’ve never had bedbugs, let me explain what a complete mindfuck they are. I was not getting bitten, Matt was. Every morning he would wake up with welts all over his body that he couldn’t explain. But we worked different schedules, so we weren’t waking up together to see if we both had welts. He didn’t tell me about them until the third morning, asking if I also was experiencing this. That’s when we discovered the little splatters of blood on our mattress and walls from the bugs after they bit Matt. Even after the bedbug dog sniffed our entire home and the bug company assured us we were safe, we felt like victims in our own home. Every tiny tickle on our skin would send us reeling. It was psychological warfare.
Once we safely moved his son back into the house, I decorated his room first. We painted the walls, we made him a little toy/art workstation, and hung a huge light-up Bumble Bee, his favorite transformer, on the wall above his bed. Matt invited Amelia to come see our house when we were all settled. It wasn’t breaktakingly beautiful, like some of the homes I’ve designed in my career. It’s kind of like the housekeeper who doesn’t clean her own house, our house was cozy and humble. But we were proud of what we built together. This was the one and only time we had a amicable meeting with Amelia, but it still left a bad taste in my mouth. She brought her son to us for our custody week, and walked him inside. We showed her around the main floor, and the kid noticed some candy on the kitchen counter. He asked me for some, and I said no, and he threw himself into a rage fit. He was jumping up and down, stomping his feet, screaming about wanting that candy. I stood back and waited for either Matt or Amelia to react. And they both just stood there staring at him in horror, like most people stare at other people’s kids when they are having a tantrum in public. I got down on one knee, at his eye level, and said “it’s not time for candy bud. It’s time for bed. We can have candy tomorrow. Ok? Now why don’t you go show your mom your new bedroom?”
His tears dried, and his face lit up. He turned, grabbed his mom’s hand and ran toward the stairs. I heard Amelia say, on her way up the stairs “you are so lucky you have three parents.” And I looked at Matt and said “he has one parent. It’s me.”
Now any parents reading this might be pissed at that statement, but trust me when I say, I believed it was true. I was the only one parenting him. When he was with his mom, there were no rules and no boundaries. And Matt had the typical single dad attitude of never wanting to be the bad guy, so he also had very few rules. But when he was with me, there were rules. We sat at the dinner table to eat. We used our forks and spoons. We didn’t act like a fucking lunatic in public, and we said please and thank you. It was like trying to train a puppy, because he was constantly unlearning these behaviors with his parents. I was the only one who cared about him being a decent human being some day. Fuck me, right?
This is the part where I’m too mad to finish the story today. To be continued.
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Like A Whisper In The Night - 18
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC (Layne Hardin) | Word Count: 3.3k | Warnings: Swearing. Like, lots of swearing. | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | MASTERLIST
Layne stood rooted to the spot as her mother in her Pepto Bismol pant suit ripped Layne away from Bucky and the reporter and crushed her in a furious hug. Her perfume was sharp and over powering and clashed terribly with whatever scented hair spray she had caked into her bleached blond hair. Layne kept her arms firm to her side before finally breaking out of her stupor and shoving her mother off of her.
“How did you guys get here so soon?” Layne asked hoarsely casting a panicked look back at Bucky and Susanna.
“What do you mean? Did you know we were coming?” June Hardin asked, her perfectly drawn brows knitting in confusion and looking back at her husband and eldest son who only barely shrugged in response.
“I mean, SHIELD agents were only sent out to you yesterday. Right?” Layne asked turning to look at Bucky and readjusting her knit cap to make sure her enhancer was covered.
Bucky shook his head, looking carefully between his girlfriend and her family. “They were set to fly out this morning,” he corrected.
“This woman said your name is Layne Hardin? Ms. Hardin? Can you tell me the nature of your activity with The Avengers?” The young reporter shoved his recorder back in Layne’s face and she blinked at him in surprise.
“You know what kid? Do you have a card?” The reporter nodded frantically and shoved his hands in his pockets trying to fish out the card for his news outlet. “If you scram, I’ll make sure you get first dibs on a one on one interview after Tony Stark and Pepper Potts call their news conference.”
“There’s gonna be a conference? Would you really do that?” the boy asked, his voice managing to crack still in excitement. Layne clocked him in at late teens since the card he handed her claimed he was an intern. He pushed his large glasses back up his nose and Layne nodded at him. He smiled brightly and left her standing with her family.
Layne turned back to her parents, looking hesitantly at her smug face. June licked her hot pink lips and fished a newspaper out of her Louis Vuitton purse to hold up in Layne’s face. It was the Star Tribune, the number one magazine in the Twin Cities, and on the front page in big black letters was ‘DOROTHY FRONT WOMAN, ALCOHOLIC TO AVENGER?’. Layne’s jaw dropped as she took the paper from her mother with shaking hands, the portrait on the front was of the scene around the laundry van on Hennepin Avenue, but zoomed into where Layne was standing with Wanda and Natasha. She handed the paper back to Bucky who had approached to stand against her back. His blue eyes moved over the headline, creases furrowed deep into his brow, and he examined the picture for a moment before folding it up and shoving it in his back pocket. June made a noise of protest but Bucky’s cold gaze stopped her dead.
“You three will need to follow us to a conference room,” Bucky demanded, his tone of voice leaving no room for argument…not that it ever stopped June Hardin.
“And just who do you think you are to command us?” she asked, her hands on her hips, Layne’s father squaring up behind her with Michael hanging out in the background - his disapproving glare never once leaving Layne.
“Most people know me as the Winter Soldier, ma’am. Now if you’ll please come this way.”
Layne’s family bristled at Bucky’s introduction. June pursed her lips while Jack stood himself up to his full height, puffing his chest out in what Layne was sure her father thought was an intimidating stance, Michael shifted his glare from his little sister to the ex-assassin that was beckoning them forward.
“I will not ask politely again,” Bucky said, his voice dropping an octave and his eyes piercing into the three of them. They startled and moved forward, June catching her daughter’s arm and pulling Layne along with them to the elevators. Susanna hung back with Bucky, who pulled Thor close to him. “Go tell Tony and Steve immediately. Ms. Sweet, you’re with me.”
Thor nodded, sensing the importance of the matter and headed to the elevator that him and Sue came down on. Susanna looked at Bucky with worry in her eyes.
“This is going to be a disaster,” she said hollowly.
“I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about her,” Bucky answered softly just before they joined the Hardin family in the elevator.
~*~
Layne watched as Bucky led them all down the hallway with his signature murder-strut and into a conference room where he slammed the door behind him causing Layne’s family to jump slightly. He motioned for them to sit, but none of them did, instead choosing to swarm Layne.
“Why didn’t you tell us you’re an Avenger?!” June.
“Where in the hell have you been the last five years?” Jack.
“What were you thinking leaving the university?” Michael.
Layne took a step back, her hand raised to her chest in overwhelming shock, as her eyes flitted wildly around at the faces in the room. She opened her mouth to speak, but her mother cut her off again.
“Why did you say agents were coming out to see us?” June asked stepping towards her daughter.
Layne opened her mouth again but her mother continued.
“Is it because you’re an Avenger and we have to be moved to a safe house?”
Layne opened her mouth again.
“Because I am not willing to alter my life because you decided to make a stupid decision with yours,” June continued.
Layne clamped her mouth shut. The buzzing in her ears took over anything her mother was saying it was high pitched and reminded of her of the time she took over Greg Andrew’s body. It felt like a large rubber band was being wrapped around her chest and her breathing was becoming restricted, shallow, and fast paced. She licked her lips, barely registering Bucky reaching out for her before she sent a burst of mental energy through the room in a shock wave.
“Enough!” Layne shouted stomping her foot like a child, her hands balled into fists at her sides. Everyone’s hand flew to their chests as they tried to still the fluttering of their auras. Bucky and Susanna merely cleared their throats in discomfort whereas her family looked at her terrified.
“They’ve turned you into a monster,” Layne’s father sneered and Bucky immediately stepped forward.
Susanna reached out and wrapped a hand around Bucky’s elbow, holding the towering super soldier back but he shook her off with a grunt. “Don’t you dare call her that,” Bucky spat eyeing the man up and down. Bucky was afraid of a lot of things, not that he would ever let it on, he was afraid of Hydra, he was afraid of wrecking his relationship with the people in the tower, he was afraid of losing Layne, and he was afraid of being the beast the media still occasionally painted his as. He was not, however, afraid of the sixty odd year old man in front of him because while Bucky was a cool one hundred years old he certainly didn’t look it.
“Don’t you fucking talk to me, you dirty Commie son-of-a-bitch,” Jack Hardin spat.
“Dad!” Layne gasped, but Bucky waved her off. He was used to it by now. Bucky looked closer at Jack and noticed the yellow tinge to his eyes and skin and wondered if he was just a barrel chested, beer gutted old man or if it was bloating. The man was killing himself slowly and didn’t need any help from Bucky in that regard.
“Don’t you defend him, young lady. You’ve embarrassed us enough pretending to be a superhero, what qualifications do you have? We’re bringing you home.” Jack shook his finger at his daughter and Layne immediately shrunk under him. He was right, Layne knew he was right, her father always had this ability to know exactly what to say to cut you to the core. He could look at someone and find their greatest insecurity and prey on it.
“FRIDAY, where is Tony Stark and Captain Rogers?” Bucky asked.
“In the elevator now, Sergeant Barnes,” she answered.
Layne’s family looked up trying to find the source of the voice, but Jack scoffed.
“You have the audacity to still go by Sergeant? After you betrayed your country? You should be ashamed.” Jack condemned and Layne finally stepped forward putting herself between Bucky and her family. Layne could handle her father’s vitriol, she could handle the disapproving glares because she’d gotten them all her life, but she would not stand idly by and let her family insult the one person who Layne knew had done everything in his power to not be a terrible person.
“You have no right to talk, Daddy. You spent six years mopping decks off the coast of Norfolk. What did you do with your military career? You certainly never saw combat, you were never captured and tortured. You shut your damn mouth and show some respect to your superior officer,” Layne glared at her father. Her mother gasped and Michael took their mother’s hand, patting it reassuringly.
It was when her father stepped forward, the back of his hand raised to smack some respect back into his daughter that Susanna stepped forward and caught the man’s wrist in a crushing grasp. Layne let out a huff of frustration and cast a look to her friend who with a stern look of her own acquiesced and let go of the man, pushing him back a smidgen.
Tony and Steve entered the room briskly, Tony looking a little out of breath having probably come all the way from the labs, but Steve looked ready to rumble. No doubt both men were told of the intense situation Layne’s family was causing and they cast their eyes around the room warily, feeling the tension that hung in the air.
“More of this dog and pony show? Layne, we as your family deserve to speak with you one and one and get the answers we are looking for,” Michael finally spoke up, stepping forward and straightening out his tie.
Out of the entire Hardin clan, Michael was the only one with any height on him. He stood at an impressive 6’2” but was unfortunately still scrawny as a twig. His hair was just as curly as Layne’s and Daniel’s, but he kept it cut short and it was starting become heavily sprinkled with grays. His face was clean shaven which would normally youth him a little bit, but the wrinkles and bags around his eyes counteracted it.
“What answers do you need?” Tony piped up, ever the diplomat.
Michael got their mother’s blue eyes instead of their father’s warm brown and they rocketed over to the billionaire. “If we’re safe, if our families are safe, against whatever forces Layne decides to blindly throw herself at.”
“Dr. Hardin has been an invaluable asset to our genetics department and nothing more. We needed her expertise on a few on location missions and no recourse should come to you or your family due to it. We haven’t even released her name to the press,” Tony diffused calmly, smoothing his tie and readjusting his tie clip. He plastered a tight lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes on his face and flicked his gaze between Layne and her family. Layne looked at him like she knew it was a lost cause and his smile fell to a confused frown.
“Her banshee of a mother ruined that,” Bucky growled and June let out an offended gasp while Layne and Susanna both let out an unladylike snort of laughter. “The local paper in Minnesota also printed this.” Bucky pulled the newspaper out of his pocket and handed it over for Tony and Steve to look at.
Tony adjusted his red tinted glasses on his nose as he read over the headline. Steve frowned while Tony made a disapproving tsk. “Well, I will have Pepper run a press conference to squash any of this.”
“We know that Layne is…odd, you obviously know that too. My brother Daniel was the same, Lord only knows where he is,” Michael continued despite his parents protests. “Stop it, the both of you, there is no way they don’t know about them.”
Steve looked at Layne, he had come from the gym and his black tank top was sticking to his chest and a towel was draped around his neck. “Hardin,” Steve said softly and Layne looked back at him. She looked drained and she sighed heavily before shaking her head slightly at him. She couldn’t tell them about Daniel, she had done so much already and this just wasn’t something she had the strength for. Steve nodded in understanding, ignoring her family that was casting them curious glances. However, they wouldn’t be able to keep her involvement with the Avengers a secret for long Pepper had already been discussing with her when Layne would feel comfortable setting up a press conference. It would be better to tell her family what she was now then have them hear it on the news and fly back out here again.
“Tell them, Cap,” Layne requested softly, sounding defeated.
“Agent Hardin has been partnering with Sergeant Barnes in special missions where her gift is needed. She’s in safe hands with him and has been doing the world a great service. Primarily assisting us with our partnership with the CIA on a human trafficking ring that was taking place in the Twin Cities and Chicago,” Steve said, his Captain voice filling the room. Where Tony always tried his best to skirt around the truth to make whatever he was saying easier for everyone, Steve was always honest but held such well meaning and command in his voice that it was very rarely questioned.
“It’s not her safety I’m concerned about. We all figured Jordan would end up in a ditch first, but with him behind bars it was her next. She’s reckless and impulsive and I don’t like the idea of her running around the country doing her freak thing with some national traitor. You fight aliens and foreign god-knows-who, we don’t need that coming back on us,” June spoke up, Steve found her voice to be like nails on a chalk board.
Everyone that wasn’t a Hardin looked at June appalled, while Layne just looked down at her feet tears brimming in her eyes. Bucky reached out and pulled her away from her family and into his chest with a glare at her parents.
“Oh my god,” Michael laughed in disbelief. “They’re together.”
Jack looked Bucky and Layne up and down, a sneer on his face. “Well, she’s never had any common sense. Doesn’t surprise me she’d shame this family further by spreading her legs for a national traitor.”
“I think it’s best if you three take off,” Tony said quickly to Bucky, Layne, and Sue, while reaching out and putting a hand firmly on Steve’s chest when he stepped forward at Jack. “I have lawyers on the way up with non-disclosures and we have that other matter to discuss with them that you don’t need to be here for.”
“You do not get to take my daughter from me,” June argued.
Tony looked at her confused. “So do you, like, hate her or love her or what’s your deal because I’m starting to question if I actually have parent issues or not after dealing with you lot for five minutes.”
June’s cheeks flushed pink with anger and embarrassment and opened her mouth to speak, but this time it was Layne that cut her off.
“The last five years of my life have been the happiest I have ever had because you weren’t apart of them. I am not an object for you to own, I am not some doll to sit there and look pretty and be quiet. I have a job and I have pride in what I do and I do it along side the man I love and I don’t give a flying fuck what you have to think or say about it. So do me a favor and keep our future contact nonexistent,” Layne spat harshly. Whatever words her mother had sitting venomously on her tongue were sucked back down and the color blanched from her face.
Thor leaned against the opposite wall out in the hallway, he immediately slipped behind Layne and Susanna to stand next to Bucky and effectively block the Hardins from coming out of the door after them.
“If the three of you could please have a seat, there is something Tony and I would like to discuss with you before the lawyers get here.” Layne heard Steve say as Bucky closed the door behind them.
Layne sighed and let her feet lead her to the elevator and her hands to push the button to the kitchen. The trio followed Layne, casting each other worried glances but no one wanting to break the silence. In the kitchen Layne pulled open the fridge and grabbed a beer, cracking it open and taking a long swig before slamming it on the counter. The deep breath of air she let from her lungs felt like it was coming from her very soul.
“They’re the fucking worst,” Layne swore softly, shaking her head as she stared wide eyed out the window in front of her at the setting sun.
“I have met more pleasant people, that’s for certain,” Susanna agreed, pulling out three more beers and passing two to the boys.
The four stood around the breakfast island, sipping their beers in silence letting Layne contemplate her emotions. Bucky stood next to her, slowly rubbing circles on her back.
“Did you know that the whole reason Danny was even in Madison was because of Jordan, he thought that someone should be visiting him. Our parents had disowned Jordan, Michael couldn’t give two shits, and I was too busy trying to pretend that I didn’t have a family. But Danny actually cared, he was worried about Jordan and he used to email me after every visit about how Jordan was doing and what he was up to. Danny didn’t drink, he didn’t do drugs, he just tried to do what he could to survive. Like that’s the shit of it, is that out of the lot of us he was the best,” Layne stated.
“To Danny,” Thor said stoically holding up his beer.
Layne looked up at the god and smiled softly, raising her beer as well. Susanna and Bucky followed suit before they all finished their drinks and set the empty bottles on the counter top. Layne tapped the mouth of her beer and wracked her brain about what she wanted to do about Saturday. At the end of the day she knew that Ava List was at fault for this, Danny had always been sweet and fought for the people he believed in more than the cause. It made him easy to be manipulated and therefore an easy target. Coming to a conclusion she nodded to herself before reaching up on her tip toes to give Bucky a small kiss.
“I know we were going to do dinner but I need to go work something out in the lab. I’ll see you tonight?” She confirmed softly kissing him again.
Bucky frowned, but nodded. “Yeah, doll, whatever you need. I’m gonna take care of things with Steve, if you need me just have FRIDAY contact me okay?”
Layne nodded and kissed Sue on the cheek before taking off towards the elevators.
“Are we still worried?” Bucky asked Sue, looking to the woman who knew his girlfriend much better than him.
Susanna watched Layne’s departure with knitted brows. “With her? You should never stop worrying.”
NEXT CHAPTER
#bucky x ofc#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky fanfic#bucky fandom#bucky barnes fandom#bucky barnes fanfic#avengers#avengers fanfiction#avengers fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel#marvel fandom#marvel fanfic#avengers fandom
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Half Blood, Whole Heart: Part 14
Pairings: Jax x Reader, sister Winchester!reader- SOA/SPN Crossover
Warnings: Swearing, angst, death canon to SOA, more angst.
Word Count: 3,967
A/N: So I decided to repost my novel- the story that someone stole from my old blog and put up on Wattpad. PLEASE don’t be an asshole and steal my stories. It CRUSHED me when it happened and almost ran me off Tumblr.
Half Blood, Whole Heart Masterlist Aesthetic by @ravenangel33
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Are you sure this guy is going to show to take that Irish dick out?” Clay asked as everyone got setup at the parking lot. You nodded as you closed the driver’s side door to the Caprice solemnly with a trapped, gagged and tied up Irishman inside the trunk.
“Yea, I’m sure. The deal is done.” You look up at your husband who you knew would be going to jail today for the next year and sighed before looking at your father-in-law. “Just make sure the boys stay clear. Hellhounds are no joke.” Clay nodded and turned toward the rest of the crew as Jax wrapped his arms around you. You couldn’t stop the couple of tears that fell on his shirt. “We just get Thomas back and turn around to lose you.” You whispered as you held your husband close.
“You’ll come see me next week, babe. 14 months will go by like nothing.” You nodded as he dipped his face in your neck. “I love you.”
“I love you, too Jax. Always will.” He kissed your neck and shoulder before pulling back to rest his forehead against yours.
“Make sure you get yourself out after you finalize the deal with that demon. Don’t you stick around either.” You nodded your head as he reached up and brushed your tears away with his thumbs, cupping your jaw in his hands. “And call Chibs or Opie if you need anything.”
“I will. I promise.” You heard the roared rumble of bikes starting up and you both sighed. “I love you.”
“I love you, babe. Make it believable.” He gave you one final chaste kiss before pulling back and walking over to his bike. You wiped the remaining tears from your eyes as you got in your car and pulled out behind the half dozen motorcycles to bring Jimmy to his death.
——
As you followed the bikers, you and Jax knew you were about going to get stopped by the bitch who continued to ruin your life. Your plan was risky, with so many variables going on at once; anything could go wrong if one person stepped out of line and all hell could literally break loose. You suddenly saw the ATF van and an unmarked police car pull out in the middle of the road. This was it; show time for the Teller’s.
As the men stopped their bikes, you slowed to a stop a little ways behind them so that if Jimmy made any noise, it wouldn’t be heard over the distance and the hum of the engine but close enough that you could still hear. You rolled your window down to be able to hear and immediately heard the low growl of a hell hound right outside your car. Your hairs stood on end as you looked toward the invisible beast to your left and watched strips of gravel curl back under its nails.
“Easy Juliet.” Crowley said from directly behind you in the back seat. You jumped at the sudden close proximity and simply looked straight forward; pointing discreetly behind your dashboard.
“Woman in the pants suit; June Stahl. Her, any ATF agents dumb enough to stay behind and Jimmy in the trunk. My guys get to Jimmy first and your hounds finish him but everyone else is fair game.” You said as you listed off the souls Crowley would be given at the hands of SAMCRO that day. “Any other people who meet Mr. Mayhem from here on out, you will be notified as long as Jax and I have the heads up on it first.”
“Such simple payment for the collection of a child.” He said as he leaned around you to look at Stahl. “Seal it with a kiss?” He asked and you shook your head.
“I need to make sure they all believe it first. When I whistle; that’s when I will seal it.”
“You Winchester’s always have to make thing’s difficult, don’t you?” He asked as he disappeared along with the sound of the hell hound.
“It’s Teller.” You grumbled to no one. You watched Jax, Clay, Stahl and two officers walked toward you and you took a deep breath and got out of the car. Clay looked beyond livid and Stahl looked completely pleased with herself.
“Pop the trunk.” Jax told you. Despite being part of the plan, you still furrowed your brow. You popped the trunk as the rest of the brothers walked over toward the car. You looked at Jax as Stahl and her agents walked around to the back of the car.
“James O'Phelan, you're being taken into custody on suspicion of conspiracy of committing a terrorist criminal act.” She told him as her goons pulled Jimmy out of the trunk. They removed the gag and walked him past the Sons.
“Sorry, it didn’t work out for you lads. Luck of the Irish and all.” He said as the agents carted him toward the cars at the front.
“How did you know we had him?” Clay demanded angrily as Stahl opened a blue file she had under her arm.
“Oh! Your VP made a deal.” Your stomach dropped as you whipped around completely to face Stahl; this was not part of the deal Jax had made.
“Son of a bitch!” Jax shouted as he turned to hit her but the guys had him surrounded.
“What is she talking about?!” Clay asked as he looked at his stepson.
“You made a deal for Jimmy?!” Tig shouted
“You ratted?!” Bobby screamed.
“What have you done?!” You screeched at Stahl and she simply smiled.
“I did it for the club! I had no choice!” Jax shouted in his defense as his panicked eyes found yours.
“This whole time we were looking for Jimmy and you knew you were gunna turn him over to this cunt.” Clay said.
“We lost five brothers because of Jimmy!” Juice stated.
“No, Clay, she made him do it. He didn't have a choice! He’s not a rat!” You said as you tried to get your father-in-laws attention as cops came over to collect the guys.
“You’re dead! Do you hear me? Dead!” Clay shouted as the officers began cuffing the men.
“Hell yea you are. Done.” Tig shouted. Jax looked back in a complete panic and in the break, you ran towards him as tears poured down your cheeks.
“You just signed my fucking death warrant.” He told Stahl as he pulled against the officer to be able to kiss you once more. “Don’t let my son forget about me.” He said as he was dragged away.
“Never. I love you.” You called after him as he was loaded into the van.
“Always babe, always.” Stahl walked up next to you and handed you the blue file.
“Well that’s unfortunate. So obviously the boys will be out in three years, if they don't kill anyone and get caught. Parole in 14 months. My official statement that says Gemma wasn’t in the house during the shooting has been submitted so she is free to go.” She smirked at you as the doors to the van were closed behind the convicts and sighed. “Your mother-in-law was right. There is no trust between law enforcement and criminals.” You watched the van drive away and your heart broke for the man you loved. As it rounded the corner, you heard the low rumble you were waiting for and a smile crossed your face.
“See… that’s where you’re right.” You let out an ear piercing whistle and the woman cringed as Crowley popped up in front of you.
“About bloody time. She believed it, I see.” He said and you nodded.
“Leave the man in the car, my boys and me. The cops are yours including her.” You reminded him for Stahl’s benefit. He gave you a short nod and you stepped forward and sealed the deal with the King of Hell.
“What is this?” Stahl asked while pointing at Crowley as the flat bed to take the bikes home pulled up behind your car. Two prospects sped past you to catch up to the boys headed to prison and to tip them off that the club’s plan worked; that Stahl believed the club thought Jax was outed as a rat and that she had been running the show when in reality, the club was two steps ahead and she was now dead.
“This is SAMCRO’s… insurance policy. Like you said, there is no trust. She’s all yours.” You said as you turned and walked toward the flat bed to get out of the way.
“Sick ‘em, boys!” You heard Crowley shout. As you climbed onto the bed of the truck with Opie and Chibs, the area around you was suddenly filled with low growls before shrill screams filled the air. Cowley strolled over casually as Stahl was ripped to shreds before your eyes by an invisible monster. “This is how you reach me when you have business for me and you lot are only to deal with me.” He said as he handed you a fire red business card. “It’s been a pleasure as always. I’m leaving Juliet with you for now to finish the last one and my men will be around to clean up the mess shortly.”
“Thank you again, for everything.” He gave you a short nod and disappeared as the sounds of growling died down.
“I’ll never get used to that.” Opie said as he, Chibs and you jumped down to get Jimmy.
“You’d be surprised.” You heard the low growl of the hellhound begin to follow you and both men jumped at the noise, causing you to giggle. “Oh lighten up, ya big babies. They’re just hellhounds. Now remember; maim as badly as you want. Don’t kill or we lose the soul and I’m a dead woman.” Chibs nodded as he pulled open the back door of the squad car and yanked Jimmy out.
His feet hadn’t been on the ground completely before Chibs grabbed two knives and gashed his cheeks open in a Chelsea Grin; the same thing, you had learned Jimmy had done to Chibs years ago. You and Ope stood back and let Chibs take out all his hatred for the man that had taken his family and claimed them as his own. Just as you were about to step in and stop him from finishing the job, Juliet let out a growled bark causing Chibs to finally back off.
“No… NO!” Jimmy shouted as he realized his fate. Juliet pounced and began ripping him limb from limb. You looked at the boys and sighed.
“Alright let’s get these bikes loaded. I gotta get home to my son.”
“Didn’t realize you were working for Crowley.” A very familiar voice said and your heart clenched. You whipped around in complete shock to see Sam, standing against a tree, casually smoking a cigarette. Chibs and Opie both drew their guns as your jaw dropped.
“Sammy?” You stammered as you took a step toward your brother. “How…” As the reality hit you, you grabbed your gun and your angel blade from the back of your jeans and stepped back. “How are you here?” You demanded.
“I’ve been asking myself that for a while now. Here, save you the trouble.” He raised his hands in the air and walked over to you slowly before stopping a little over an arms length away. He extended his arm for you and bobbed it slightly. You quickly dragged the edge of the blade across his arm, drawing only a single line of blood. You lowered your weapons and looked at your brother as tears filled your eyes.
“Fuck… Sam.” You lurched forward and jumped into your best friend’s arm as he wrapped you in a hug. “God, I fucking missed you.” He nodded as he set you back down on the ground with a smile.
“I missed you too, (Y/N). Now, you need help with these bikes?” You nodded as you took a step back with a teary smile.
“Sam, this is Opie and Chibs. Boys, you remember my other brother, Sam.”
~~~~~~~~~~
As you sat on the couch with Thomas contently watching the fish tank screensaver you had on your laptop while eating mashed kiwi’s and mango’s, you could tell there was something off about your brother. You knew Sam like the back of your hand and you noticed almost immediately that he was a little more distant than was usual and his smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. You bit your tongue as he told you and Dean where he had been the last few months but you could tell Dean was beyond livid.
“So that’s all of it.” Sam told his siblings as he grabbed his beer off the coffee table. You and Dean glanced at each other and you sighed as Sam continued. “But I actually came because I have a case and I need Dean for it, so sorry (Y/N), but we gotta go.”
“Whoa! Hang on! Dean’s not going anywhere right this minute!” You said as you sat up a little straighter. “Jax just went to jail today. Dean is…”
“Dean is a hunter, (Y/N). He’ll come back when we are done with this case…”
“That’s bullshit Sam and you know it.”
“Button, it’s…” Dean tried and you shook your head.
“Don’t De. You told Jax you would look out for me. We both know you were on the fence about the apple pie life here with everything that goes on with the club. We both know you take the tarp off Baby and Charming is just another dot in the rearview.”
“Well… not really.” Sam said. “The Djinn I’m hunting is following me so he’s probably here.”
“You what?!” You shouted; startling Thomas who began to cry. “What have you done?”
“I need help. So I came for help.” Sam said as he took a pull of your beer. You picked up Thomas and shook your head.
“Sam… get out of my house. I am so pissed at you right now that I don’t even want to look at you. Dean, get him out and get the fucking Djinn out of Charming without drawing attention to yourself. I’ll call Ope or Chibs for protection.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
“How do you do it?” You asked Chibs as the two of you sat in your living room essentially as Djinn bait. “How do you keep going on without your family?” He shrugged as he passed you the joint you were splitting and shook his head.
“’s’not easy, lovie. Jus’ keep remindin’ yerself ‘e’ll be comin’ ‘ome soon.”
“He’s gunna miss so much.” You sighed; you were still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that it would be over a year before Jax walked through your front door again.
“Can’t look at it like that or ye’ll go mad.” He said as you passed him back the joint. “Take it day by day.” You nodded as the baby monitor you were using as a walkie talkie crackled on the table.
“Incoming through kitchen.” Sam said quickly; he was the look out from the front of the house while Dean was by the side door. You grabbed a baseball bat and triple checked that your skin was covered.
“Remember, no guns.” you told Chibs softly as the side door to the garage squeaked opened. You stood up slowly and raised your bat.
“FRONT DOOR! TWO INCOMING!” Sam shouted suddenly into the baby monitor. You had just enough time to spin in toward the man with symbols covering his body before you went flying across the room.
Your house became chaos as Sam and Dean charged into the house and the four of you battled the three Djinn in your house. The boys only had one silver knife and barely enough lambs blood for one kill so you had to resort to brute force to kill the other two. The four of you had the upper hand in being prepared for the attack; in that you were completely covered but that didn’t stop the sheer strength and agility the monsters had.
“(Y/N/N), drop!” Dean shouted as you stood toe to toe with a Djinn, trying to over power him unsuccessfully with a lamp you had grabbed. You hit the deck seconds before Dean swung from behind the monster. You heard a sickening crack over Chibs’ Scottish taunting and the weight of the monster landed on you.
“Damnit De!” You shouted as you grabbed the lamp and awkwardly bashed it against the Djinn’s head.
“Two down!” Sam shouted as you heard a second Djinn hit the floor.
“C’mon ye bastard!” Chibs shouted as he squared off against the last Djinn. He twirled the baseball in his hand with a mad smile on his face as the man started to glow blue. Suddenly, you heard someone call your name. You turned toward the noise and saw Jax standing in the doorway.
“Baby… run!” You said as you stood up and looked around the room at the chaos that was no longer there. You watched your living room burst into flames. Fear ripped through you as you went to look back at Jax and instead, you saw Cameron Hayes holding Thomas.
“Sorry love. ‘e’s not your son anymore.” He said as he turned and headed out the door. You went to run after him and the wall of fire increased.
“Tommy!” You choked as you tried to find a way to your son. “THOMAS!” Out of nowhere, Dean appeared before you and stabbed you in the heart. You gasped as your whole body lurched.
“Hey! Hey! You’re OK.” Dean said as you thrashed on your bed against him.
“No! He has Thomas!” you shouted as tears blurred your vision.
“Love, I ‘ave ‘im; ‘e’s right ‘ere. ’s’a’right.” You heard Chibs say. You sat upright in bed and scrambled to get to your son as sobs wracked your body.
“How… what happened?!” You shouted to the men in the room.
“The Djinn that landed on you got to you.” Sam said from the doorway. “We got to you just in time.” You glared at your brother full of hate and shook your head.
“Was it worth risking my life, Sam? Huh? Risking my son; our brother?” You turned your back on him and looked at Dean. “Did you get them?”
“Yea… yea we got them. Living room is a little worse for the wear but…”
“De, I love you and I’m don’t want to have to do this to you but get him out of my fucking house and don’t come back with him.” Dean sighed as you gave your oldest brother a kiss on the cheek.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” Sam said and you shook your head as you sat down on the bed and looked at him.
“No you’re not because if you were, you wouldn’t have brought that shit show around your sister and nephew in the first place. You would have called when you came back from the cage. I don’t know who you are right now Sam Winchester but you are NOT my brother.” Sam simply shrugged and walked out of your bedroom without another word. You looked over at Dean with tears falling and shook your head. “Don’t worry about me. Chibs can stay here tonight if he doesn’t mind and I’ll move in with Gemma for a while if I feel unsafe. You are more than welcome to come back whenever you want… alone”
“Button, I’m really sorry about this.” He said as he stepped toward you and kissed your forehead.
“I know you are De but it’s not your fault… just, figure out why he’s suddenly such an asshole all of a sudden.” He nodded and kissed the top of Thomas’ head.
“Don’t be a stranger. Call me and keep me posted on my favorite sister and nephew.” You promised him you would and with a final sigh, he shook Chibs’ hand and left. You didn’t get up until you heard the front door close behind your brother.
“I’ll stay wit’ ye for a while if ye wish, (Y/N). I’m in the dorms anyways so it’s no skin off my back.” You glanced back at your friend and nodded as you headed into the nursery.
“I’d like that, actually if you don’t mind little man crying at unusual hours.” Chibs chuckled as you laid your son down for bed.
“Lassie, I’m a father, too. Wee lad couldn’t bother me one bit.” You smiled at the Scotsman and nodded as you headed toward the living room to clean up the mess you knew was waiting for you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Well, you will never believe what you have missed so far.” You said as you passed Thomas to Jax and the two of you sat down at the table during your first visitation.
“Please tell me you didn’t burn the house down.” He teased as he looked up at you. You gave him a perfect bitch face and rolled your eyes.
“Not even close. First of all, Sam is back; we don’t know how but he is an absolute dick that has been banned from the house. Second, Dean moved out; I told him to go with Sam…”
“Wait, Dean moved out? So…” You held up your hand and giggled.
“Not even close to being done. So, since Dean left, Chibs has moved in, I’ve gone back to work at the shop and we hired a nanny.”
“Wait… hold on… So… what?” Jax asked as he tried to swallow all the news. You smiled and nodded. “So Sam’s alive, Dean is gone, we have a Scotsman in our spare room and a nanny.”
“And I went back to work.” You chipped in. “You got it.” He sat back and shook his head with a huffed laugh.
“I’m gone for less than two weeks and you move another man in our house. Little hussy.” You shoved his shoulder as he laughed.
“It was either Chibs helping out or I moved in with mom for a year. Want me to make that phone call?”
“No! No, Chibs is fine.” Jax laughed. “You and my mom are close but I think one of you would kill the other if you lived in the same house while raising Tommy.”
“We aren’t that bad.” You claimed. He raised his eyebrow and it only took you a moment before you rolled your eyes. “Ok, ok. We would kill each other.” The two of you laughed for a moment before an ugly weight fell over you. Jax searched your eyes as he reached up and brushed your hair behind your ear.
“How are you?” You nodded and pursed your lips.
“I’m alright.” You breathed before tears welled up in your eyes. You reached up and held your husband’s hand to your cheek and he rested his forehead against yours. “I’ve been sleeping on a couch in the nursery… well, trying to. It’s so weird.”
“Fuck… babe, I am so sorry.” He said softly as he brushed his thumb across your cheek, wiping away tears. “I never wanted this…”
“I know you didn’t but here we are.” You said as you brushed your fingers on the back of his hand and put your other hand on his arm under your son. “I know what I signed up for, Jax.”
“I should be home.” You nodded and looked up at him through your eyelashes.
“What, so you could watch me burn the house down?” You said trying to lighten the mood.
“Yea…” he huffed as he sat back and looked at you. “I’ll be home to man the fire extinguisher soon.”
Part 15
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