IM CRYING - Blog Posts

💫Lovely🌟

Remember when Aziraphale looked at the nebula and said "It's very pretty! And I think you've done an excellent job!" and Crowley just huffed "Oh thank you!"?

What if Aziraphale took all his courage and tried one more time...

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I just started crying harder as the video progressed🥺😭

sumn positive on ur dashboard 😭❤️

hey whats up guys @castielrisingabove's tags on this post absolutely obliterated me. so i drew them and now they get to obliterate you too. enjoy

when the world stops turning (my heart stops beating) - pt. 4

hello yes i know it's been a while. this part has been a pain in my ass for months. i needed to get it just right and rewrote this thing so many times it's not even funny. and now, after editing it five times over the last two days, i'm just posting it. what's done is done. if i came back to it again i would have rewritten and i don't wanna do that. so here it is at least. there is also going to be at least one more part. i'm shooting for two more hopefully but i make no promises. the next part could very well be the last. i hope you enjoy :)

ao3 pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

cw: hospitals, dissociation, mentions of overdose, addiction, sobriety, and relapse

Eddie couldn’t move. His body was fighting against every instinct he should have in the moment. Someone could throw something directly at his head, and he wouldn’t react. The buzzing voices around him faded in and out as he stared at a chip in the wood of the table in front of him.

One of Steve’s doctors had finally come to speak with them. They couldn’t say anything for certain at the moment, but he was alive, and that’s all Eddie heard before his head went fuzzy again. His mind was still reeling, caught on the fact that he should have seen this. He should have noticed. He should have been able to help Steve. He failed the only person who’d ever loved him like that, the only one who ever would love Eddie like that. Because Steve was it for him. He’d always known that. No one else would even come close. No one could ever compare to Steve Harrington.

Not only had he failed Steve, but he’d failed Robin too. He was supposed to keep Steve safe. Robin couldn’t lose her best friend; Eddie knew that. He’d promised to take care of him. He couldn’t even do that one thing right. God, what was he going to tell Robin?

They didn’t want Steve to have visitors yet. Eddie managed to gather that much at least. It was still touch and go. He wasn’t awake. They weren’t sure if he ever would be. They’re flushing his system, but it’s really just a game of wait and see. They might be able to see him in the morning, but the doctor wasn’t making any promises. It all depended on how the rest of the night went. If he made it through. They couldn’t say anything else for certain. There had been a lot of drugs in his system. He’d been deprived of oxygen for a long time. There was no way to be sure what would happen next. That was all up to Steve now.

Eddie sat there in that uncomfortable waiting room chair for hours. He didn’t move. He didn’t eat or drink. He didn’t even get up to go to the bathroom. He just sat there, staring at the same chip in the wooden table. His friends all tried their best to get through to him. They tried to coax him into eating or drinking something, but their efforts were unsuccessful. No one could get through to him, and he preferred it that way. He deserved to sit in his own silence, letting his brain run reckless and spiral to the depths of his fears and anxiety. He had failed.

He noticed that the more time seemed to pass, the antsier his bandmates got. Though, he couldn’t be exactly sure that’s what was happening. Time escaped him.

Time was such a funny thing, wasn’t it? It can feel like it speeds up, slows down, or stops entirely, but it never changes. It’s always the same. It’s all in the imagination. Eddie was never that good at telling time as a child. Even as he grew older, he found it difficult to keep track. As he sat in that hospital, his entire life on the brink of falling apart at the seams, time was nowhere to be found. Nothing made sense. He just sat silently, staring. People moved around him, time passed, but Eddie didn’t move. He was trapped. His body was at the hospital, but his mind kept bouncing around. From his mom, to Wayne, to Steve on the bathroom floor. An endless cycle. Eddie was hanging on by a single thread: the only thread of life left in Steve.

Eddie would never survive if Steve didn’t make it out alive.

Eddie was aware that a long time had passed only by the ache in his joints and the dryness of his mouth. He also sort of needed to pee, but that wasn’t important. At least, not important enough to warrant getting up. He couldn't move. He needed to stay right in that spot. Nothing was more important than that.

“Come on, Ed,” Wayne’s gruff voice said from somewhere behind him. Eddie stayed rooted to the spot. “It’s time to go, kid. We’ve gotta get to the reception.”

Eddie stood silently, staring straight ahead at the marble headstone. His mother’s name was engraved with curly letters. Eddie hadn’t known that was possible. There were piles of flowers that he knew wouldn’t be there next week. He didn’t speak. His feet were glued to the soft ground beneath him. His suit was itchy and his worn dress shoes were a size too small. The tie around his neck was suffocating. He couldn’t breathe.

He broke down right there, tears rolling down his cheeks and gasping sobs bursting from his chest. He sank down to the ground at the foot of his mother’s fresh grave, clawing at the stupid red tie that his mother had bought him two years prior and the collar of his white dress shirt. Wayne sighed softly and sat down beside him, gently pulling his hands away and shushing Eddie as he loosened the tie. He let him collapse against his chest, tie almost completely off and the first two buttons of his shirt undone. Wayne held him through each wracking sob and stuttering breath, murmuring comfort until he’d gotten it all out.

“I couldn’t do it, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie whispered hoarsely. “Why couldn’t I do it?”

“Do what, Ed?”

“Save her.”

Why couldn't he do it?

“Eddie, seriously, you need to eat something,” Jeff said, holding out a bag of chips from the vending machine. Eddie stared blankly at the bag, seeing but not really. He heard the words coming from Jeff’s mouth, but his body refused to respond. He couldn’t quite fully process what he was saying. It slipped out of his head before he got the chance, replaced with his mother’s voice, or Steve promising he was fine. He was fine. There was nothing wrong. It was just weed. Nothing more. He was fine.

He lied.

What else had Steve lied about? What else was he keeping from Eddie? Every time Steve came home late, claiming some generic excuse about work or traffic or whatever else it may have been, how often had those been lies? What had he been doing instead? Getting high? Shooting up in a parking garage somewhere? Was he ever with someone else? Someone who wasn’t Eddie?

Steve would never cheat. Eddie had to remind himself of that over and over again. Repeat it on a loop in his head. Anything to get it to stay there.

He would not cheat. He would not cheat. He would not cheat.

But he would lie.

Eddie has never been insecure about their relationship before. He loved Steve more than anything. He always knew Steve felt the same. Steve loved him. No questions asked. Eddie knew. He didn't need to be told that Steve loved him. It was just obvious. Now, though, Eddie was second guessing everything. Why would he lie? If Steve could lie so easily about something like this, what else had he lied about? Had their whole relationship been a lie? Has Steve ever told him the truth about anything?

His brain swirled with more thoughts, more insecurities. He stared at the chip in the table as he spiraled. His fingers and toes were tingling. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a dream, a nightmare. Any minute now, he was going to wake up. Everything would be fine. It was just one big nightmare. He would be laying in bed next to Steve, who would be snoring softly. He would roll over and tuck his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. He could hold him tight, bury his nose in the back of Steve’s neck and breathe in the scent of his shampoo. He could fall back into a peaceful sleep with Steve in his arms, safe and sound.

Except he wasn't waking up. No matter how much he tried, no matter how hard he willed his eyes to open, it didn't happen. He was trapped. There was no escape. Steve wasn't there. He may never be there again. This was all Eddie’s fault. If only he’d noticed. If only he cared enough. None of it was enough. Eddie wasn’t enough. He never should have expected to be enough for Steve. Steve deserved better.

Eddie never should have asked him to come on tour with them.

If Eddie hadn’t asked him to go, this never would have happened. Steve would be at home, in their apartment with Robin, probably sleeping in her room every night. He hated sleeping alone. He’d be sitting on the couch, wrapped up in one of Eddie’s hoodies and the threadbare blue blanket they took from the trailer when they moved, watching movies with Robin and a bowl of popcorn. He wouldn’t be dying in a hospital in New York. He’d be happy and safe. Eddie would miss him like hell, but at least he would be safe.

The sun was shining, blindingly bright, through the tall windows on the far wall of the waiting room when the doctor finally came back. Eddie’s knee had taken to bouncing anxiously a while ago, maybe an hour, maybe more. He can’t be sure. His brain had mostly come back online, but he still felt a little foggy. Untethered. His world was unbalanced. His ears were still ringing even as the doctor started talking. He barely heard a single word. Snippets of information filtered through the fog. Stable. Made it through the night. Up to Steve now. ICU. Visitors. The next thing he knows, Jeff is leading him through the halls with the doctor. It’s just the three of them. Other doctors and nurses bustled around them.

They finally crossed the double doors into the ICU. Eddie’s heart pounded as the doctor led them over to one of the sliding doors. She opened it, and Eddie couldn't move. He could hear the machines inside, see the edge of the hospital bed. If he turned his head a little, he knew he would see Steve. The doctor walked in and picked up the chart at the foot of the bed. She flipped it open and clicked her pen, writing things down and glancing at monitors.

“Eddie, why don't we go inside?” Jeff suggested softly, his hand on Eddie’s arm. “Steve needs you right now.”

Eddie's feet moved of their own accord, taking slow steps into the room. Jeff followed behind him, closing the door once they were both in the room. He carefully led Eddie over to the chair, giving him a light push on the shoulder to sit him down. As soon as he was close enough, Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand. An instinct he would probably always have. It didn't matter what was going on in his brain. If Steve’s hand was there, Eddie was holding it.

“Is he okay?” the doctor asked gently, nodding to Eddie.

Jeff sighed. “I hope so. This is all really hard on him.”

“How long have they been together?”

Jeff looked up, a little startled. It may have been New York, and queer relationships were a little more accepted than they were just a few years ago, but Steve and Eddie had always been careful. Cautious. They all had. But she was quick to respond before Jeff could even think to redirect.

“It’s okay, really. I know what love looks like. I would look at my partner the same way if something like this ever happened to her.”

“Oh.” Jeff glanced at Eddie, who had his eyes glued to Steve’s hand in his. “Um… it’s been almost eight years now. They’ve been through a lot together.”

She closed the chart and put it back at the end of the bed. She nodded a few times, watching the machines that beeped rhythmically. “I’m going to hold on to hope,” she said softly. “For them. For everyone like us. I can’t say anything for certain; this is all up to Steve. We’re doing everything we can. But I’m holding on to hope.”

“I guess that’s all any of us can do now, isn’t it?”

“I think so.” She cleared her throat and took a step back from the bed, turning to Jeff. “I have other patients to round on, but I’ll be back to check up on everything in a couple of hours. If you guys need anything, just let one of the nurses know.”

“Thank you.”

Silence fell through the room as the doctor left. Jeff took the chair in the corner, letting Eddie have whatever time he needed. He was mostly there for Eddie’s sake; someone had to make sure he would be okay until Wayne got there. Truthfully, they were all out of their depths here. No one really understood what was happening in Eddie’s brain. Not even close to the way Wayne would.

They sat there in total silence for a long time. It's unclear to Eddie just how long, but long enough that Jeff had gotten up four times. Once to get food, once for the bathroom, and twice to hit vending machines and coffee. Not that Eddie accepted anything Jeff offered him. His body still felt wildly disconnected from his brain. His limbs were heavy. He also knows it's been long enough that nurses have come in to check on Steve eight times, and his doctor has been back once. It seems the only thing Eddie’s mind can keep track of is how many times someone has entered or exited Steve’s room in the ICU.

Jeff gets up for a fifth time. Another bathroom break, from the few words Eddie managed to retain. The door slid shut behind him, and Eddie was alone again. He squeezed Steve’s hand three times, desperate for any sign that he's still there. That he's fighting for Eddie. Nothing happens. The machines beep. His chest rises and falls rhythmically with the calculated breaths of the ventilator. Steve’s eyes shift beneath his eyelids, but they don't open. They won't open. The door slid open again, and Eddie assumed Jeff was back, though it seemed like he wasn't gone very long. And then he hears it.

“Oh, God.”

Eddie’s head shot up at the sound of Robin’s shaky voice behind him. She looked wrecked. Her face was blotchy, her eyes puffy and red. There were tear tracks down her cheeks. Wayne was standing beside her, looking somber. He watched her take a rattled breath, crossing the room slowly. Her eyes don't leave Steve. Wayne followed a few moments later, coming to stand behind Eddie and put a hand on his shoulder. Eddie wanted to break. As if he hadn't been slowly breaking this whole time.

“They- they said it was an overdose?” Robin asked softly, her voice cracking at the end. Eddie merely nodded, still trying to find his voice. “What- what happened, Eddie? Was it- was he drugged? How- how did this- did he relapse?”

“Relapse?” Eddie croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse. That didn't make any sense. For Steve to relapse, he would have to be…. “He- he was clean?”

Robin frowned, and her gaze finally found Eddie. “What do you mean he was clean? He's been clean since ‘85, Eddie. I- I helped him, after Starcourt.”

All the air left Eddie’s lungs in an instant. This was all his fault. Steve was- he was clean. Sober. And Eddie ruined that. He gave Steve weed. He brought him on tour. He took him to parties full of temptation. He killed Steve.

“This is all my fault,” he whispered.

“Eddie, you have to tell me what's going on,” Robin begged. “When did he relapse? Why didn't he call me? He promised he would talk to me if he wanted to get high again.”

“I- Oh, God. I didn't know. He- he didn't tell me.” Eddie couldn't breathe. His heart squeezed in his chest, and his lungs pushed the air from his body until there was nothing left. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't get it back. He was already hyperventilating. “This is all my fault. Oh my god, it's all my fault.” He was distantly aware of the tears rolling down his cheeks again.

Wayne stepped between Eddie and Robin, crouching down to look up into his nephew's face. His hands were solid against Eddie’s skin, just like they always were. “Ed, you need to talk to me. Take a breath, kid. I'm right here, but you have to tell me what's going on.”

Eddie’s breath stuttered halfway through his chest. “I didn't know, Wayne.”

“What didn't you know, Eddie?”

“I didn't- I didn't know he was sober. I- I thought I- I was just trying to help. I- I gave him weed. I did this.”

Robin’s expression hardened. “You did this to him?”

“I'm so sorry,” Eddie choked out between sobs. “I didn't- I didn't know. I was just trying to help. And- and then he- I knew he wasn't telling me something, but- but he promised it was just weed.”

“Get out.” Robin’s voice was firm, but he could hear the trembling fear behind it.

“What? I-”

“Get out. Get out, right now. You did this, Eddie. He was doing so good until he met you! And now he's dying! So get the hell out, before I make you!"

It was at this moment that the door opened for Jeff’s return. He paused just inside the doorway. Wayne stood up, facing Robin.

“Now, Robin, I think-”

“I don't care!” Robin’s hands were shaking. “This is his fault! I want him out, right now! Or I swear to God, Wayne, I'm going to kill him.”

Wayne glanced back at Jeff, who was the perfect picture of confusion. “Jeff, take Eddie into the hall.”

“What-”

“Don't ask questions right now,” Wayne said sternly with a shake of his head. “Just take him to the hall. I'll be out in a moment.”

As soon as the door shut behind them, and Jeff had led Eddie a little ways from the room, he finally snapped. His knees gave out from underneath him, and Jeff was the only thing holding him up as he sobbed.

This was all his fault. He killed Steve.

First his mom, now the love of his life. It was all his fault.

-----

taglist: @mugloversonly @djohawke @acowardinmordor @hallucinatedjosten @geekyfifi @slowandsteddie @estrellami-1 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @canmargesimpson @captainoliimar @ilikeititspretty

Against my best tries of posting regularly I will continue to desapear another 2 timesbefore summer, these 2 weeks of midterm proyects got hands and fashion school dont got no mercy

JUST WALKED OUT OF THE THEATER AND I CAN NOT STOP SMILING, HOLY SHIT, GO SEE LOVE, SIMON!!!

‘I can’t go on like this’

In celebration of tomodachi life on the switch have this goofy aa song i made for the mp100 rp server a while back

oh my god.

my bacteria #mybacteria

Silly comics

im dying on the floor, look at THAT SCENE he made lmaoo

Why does he need a- … oh

💓☔💓

When he left, it was the color of the sheets. The first day without him, it was color of my coffee. The first time I saw him alone in that room, it was the feel of the air. The last time I saw him, it was color of my tears hitting the cold, tile floor. That bitter January day, with the casket lowering into the hole in the earth. That day became the color of my heart.

The color is blue

I thought I'd be fine when you decided to leave. But here I am in a puddle of my own tears and trying to figure out to turn off these damned things called emotions.

2 AM Thoughts

luca marini x only for the brave by louis tomlinson

You’re Dick Grayson. 

You’re tortured, your identity is revealed to the world, and then you’re killed. Right after that, everyone you care about cries over you because they think you’re dead. Then your dad beats you up and tells you that you have to go undercover to protect the people you love. You know that people are going to be mad at you for it, and you’re not sure they’re going to understand why you’re doing this thing you really don’t want to do. 

You tell your dad that your relationship with him will never be the same because of this. You’ll never be “his boy” again. Your dad tells you it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make. It hurts you almost as much as the next punch does. 

So you go do your mission. It’s hard because you don’t have your usual support system to help you get through it. All you have is a little device that you sometimes call your dad on, and then one day you don’t even have that because your dad stops answering, and you don’t know why. You ask him, no, you beg him to let you come back home because you did what you came there to do, and you don’t know what you’re supposed to do next, but more than anything, you just want to come home. 

To make matters worse, you’re confronted by the man who murdered you, and he happily reminds you of this all while trying to take kryptonite from you. He also shows you that the technology you’re using while undercover can control your body. Now you know you can’t trust anybody, including yourself. 

You decide, fuck it, and go back home because you’re sick of this undercover shit. More importantly, you don’t know if your dad is dead or if something bad happened that forced him to abandon you. 

When you get home, you find out that your dad has amnesia and doesn’t remember you. Your brothers spit accusing words at you for lying to them even though your dad is the one who forced your hand on the issue. One of them punches you because he’s so mad at you for pretending to be dead. You don’t know how to explain to either of them that you really did die. At this point, you’re not sure they would even care. 

You go to see one of your best friends next, and when you try to explain things to her, she tells you you’re a disappointment. She doesn’t understand how hard you fought your dad to avoid doing all of this in the first place. She doesn’t understand that people, including your dad, took advantage of you when you were physically, mentally, and emotionally fragile. You know she doesn’t know all of this, but it doesn’t matter. 

It still hurts. 

And then… and then there’s your youngest kid brother. Your Robin. Your heart stops when you see him because what? He’s alive? You’re frozen in shock, but your Robin isn’t. He flips into your arms and, suddenly, you’re hugging him. He’s warm and alive, and there’s no mistaking that this is your Robin. This is your kid. And your kid isn’t like the others. He’s just as thrilled to see you as you are to see him. You hug him hard enough to hurt, and your cheek is pressed tightly against his. It’s everything you wanted, and you don’t think anything can beat this feeling. 

You’re proven wrong when your kids says, “I missed you,” in a voice that’s incredibly sincere and full of pure, unadulterated happiness. 

I love you, you think while closing your eyes and gripping him even tighter. 

What comes out of your mouth is, “I know, kiddo. Me too. Me too.”

I'm literally started crying :")

It's beautiful.

SKYRIM HUGS?????

Skyrim hugs!! I had so much fun writing these!

Cicero gives tight, enthusiastic and energetic hugs. The kind where you're almost struggling to breathe, but just enough space to breathe. He just can't help himself when he's extremely happy!

Clavicus Vile, should he actually hug someone, gives short, nearly one-armed hugs with a small pat on the back no matter the situation. You're crying? Too bad, it's even shorter, though he will at least make a small attempt at a hug; he's not very fond of them.

Erandur gives the warmest, most kind hugs of any mer or man. He is amazing at comforting his friends and even strangers, truly a light in the dark and an easy father figure. If the situation is bad enough, he'll wordlessly sink to the ground with you in his arms and allow you to sob into his shoulder while he rubs your back, telling you it's going to be okay. Whatever's hurting you will pass soon.

Kharjo is so fluffy! His armor makes it kind of difficult, but when he manages, he's so soft. He's one of the most floofy Khaijit around, and yes, he purrs. The healing powers of a cat's purr absolutely apply, you find yourself relaxing more and more by the second when he starts.

Marcurio gives passionate, desperate 'I can't believe we're alive!/I almost lost you back there!' hugs. He nearly cries, and it's one of the very few times he will show extreme weakness or emotion, unless you're married. Oh boy, you'll never get out of his arms, and he’ll be peppering kisses all over your face telling you how much he loves you and just admitting everything.

Master Neloth's hugs depend on how long he's known you; if you're too new, he'll pry you off him or worse, send you flying back with a spell or two aimed your way. However, if he's known you long enough to trust you to make his Canis Root Tea, and you get it right, he'll reluctantly allow you to wrap your arms around him and hide your face in his robes. Whether you're crying or not makes all the difference, surprisingly! He's a lot more attentive if you're crying, whereas he's just waiting for you to let go if not.

Ondolemar's hugs are the rarest of all, and must always be done in private. Only when you are hurt both physically and emotionally will he hug you, and they're worth the wait. He wraps his robes around you as well as his arms, and brings your face into the hood beside his face, practically cradling you, opting to talk in a complete whisper, soothing every possible wound, internal or external with a healing spell to pair with his words.

Sanguine gives hugs frivolously, but be warned, should the situation be too friendly, he's more likely to grab your ass or let his hands slide down to your waist. He can't let his appearance suffer because you wanted a hug from a Daedric Prince. What did you expect? However, let's say your running around after a night of partying left you a little worse for where, he'll momentarily put aside the whole deal and apologize for what happened; he just wanted to have some fun, and you looked like you needed a break from all that heroing.

Sheogorath, true to his nature, will give very unpredictable and unexpected hugs; one minute he's telling you how he's going to kill you, practically stalking towards you, then "Hah! Just kidding! Come to Uncle Sheo!" and practically squeeze the life out of you like he really was mad, but he's being forced to play nice.

Teldryn Sero gives one-armed hugs whenever he feels like it, not exactly reserved with his physical affections, but should his patron be crying, he won't hesitate to take them into his arms and sit beside them. He's a great listener, and not because he has to be; you didn't pay him for this, he knows you need it. He also has some of the best advice in all of Solstheim.

BONUS OBLIVION!

Lucien Lachance doesn't hug unless he needs to reassure. Unless a family member comes to him an utter sobbing mess, he'll give very quick hugs, wondering why on Tamriel you felt the need to do that? If a family member is hurt, especially by someone else, you know their end won't be pretty. He's the guard dog of the family, stalwart and proud, perched above keeping a careful eye on everyone, and if a potential predator should come sniffing around or even attempt to harm any of his pack, he's on them immediately. His comforting hugs are like the Void, only a thousand times warmer, completely encasing you and speaking comforting words until the hurt subsides. And then he sets out. Everyone is silent until he returns, covered in blood with news and a gift he knows you’ll like.

Vicente Valtieri gives very paternal hugs, he is absolutely the father figure of the Cheydinhal sanctuary, and takes that role with pride. He also takes it very seriously, noticing when something is wrong with his family members and wanting to help however he can. He's unafraid to give affection openly, and his hugs may be somewhat cold, but they are warm with love and affection of a family that you'll find once in a lifetime.

4th of July never looked sexier

My girl 😭😭😭💖

What the hell, Latin memes???

i could watch odo lovingly talk to goo for hours

Remember to change your clocks on Sunday and your government on Tuesday.

To those moments who never happened.

- Hello, Ace. Good to finally see you.

- Hello Ace. You're finally here, little dear.

If someone didn't decide to die with glitter and drama, I think this scene could have happened for those three.

For little Ace who would never doubt he've been love. For unbreakable Rouge who die hoping the ex enemy never change his mind about her child ( hoping he will teach him to grow, to believe, to love, hoping he will watch her child and never let him down, hoping he will be loved, fed and clothed, hoping for her child she'd love so much so she break the law's nature for him ). For Roger, who, the last day, the last hour, the last minute, have been asked where were his treasure and he never responded it was in two little brats who look at him like a father or in this woman and in this unborn child who he will forever love.

counting the seconds standing alone, as thousands of years go by...

Oh my GOD-

Scuttles, Alastor's antler crab lmao

Alastor does something to piss Scuttles off and he either just pulls Al's hair/pokes his scalp with his sharp little legs, or straight up abandons ship (as seen above - this happens about twice a week, it's just usually in Alastor's room)

(had to repost because i'm an idiot)

soooooouh, this happened the other day 😂

everything started from a conversation between me and @supdudes95 having hard times getting decent references of Alastor from the serie, then she had a fever vivid dream and THIS was born

I listened to Crab Rave on loop while doing this, i cant-

here have this mess

i might fix it up later

Another animation I did for today!

🖊🖊🖊

Hello!

You can have three very random bits. :)

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

Natasha screamed out hoarsely. Her own arms moved to shield her head, she flinched like you might hit her.

---------

Sipping her tea, Wanda watched the Spiderman for a moment. There were textbooks strewn across the nearby kitchen table and he was sprawled on the sofa like he had tripped over his feet and stopped moving when he’d landed somewhere soft.

She wondered if it was more pathetic that he’d obviously realised he was too tired to study and still had only managed to make it a few feet across the room before collapsing. He should be in bed, she thought hypocritically as she drank.

----------

A tall woman with dark hair half runs after you in the hallway. She catches your arm and you stop.

‘Agent Hill.’ She introduces herself. You just stand there.

‘Agent Romanoff.’ The woman begins again. You bristle at the formality and Agent Hill notices. ‘Natasha.’ She corrects softly. ‘She has items on board, she has you listed as next of kin.’

Your jaw clenches so hard that you can’t speak. You barely manage a stiff nod as you follow Agent Hill to a small room on the base.

She stands in the doorway. You wait pointedly not moving until she’s gone. Then, you check everywhere. Natasha isn’t gone. She can’t be. She made you a promise.

You check every hiding spot that you’ve ever known her to have. You know you’re acting frantic, you can’t even process what they’re suggesting. She made you a promise. She wouldn’t disappear on you.

All you find, taped to the back of her nightstand, is a carefully folded photo of you. Once you start crying, you can’t stop.

Don’t listen to Slipping Through My Fingers and imagine Steve and Dustin before Dustin goes off to college

I’ll never unsee it