#mouring

[astr0-biucks]

Everyone keeps asking me if I've seen the BND trailer or if I plan on watching it

how do I explain that I havent and that I swipe away as soon as it pops up because I feel guilty that I get to watch it when I know he was looking forward to watching it so much?

[heavyarethecrowns]

[findinglifeinwords]

I miss you with every breath and cell in my body. I keep wondering when I’ll wake up from this nightmare. I live in a world where you no longer exist.

[urvirtualgfteehee]

Remember I always love you

[ppeanutt]

#mouring #coffee #justsayingagain https://www.instagram.com/dogfaceponysoldrier/p/CXd1TT9Fnb_/?utm_medium=tumblr

[do-you-feel-love]

“Her house reeks of flowers. Lilies. The two flower shops in town had been sold out of the damn things ever since her mother’s death had been announced. White lilies. The flower of death and mourning.” Anonymous

[tookishcombeferre]

Pip Rambles

So, I just found out that RBG died via tumblr, and I just feel really numb. She was a huge role model for our house during my second year of grad school.

She just seemed so invincible, and I seem so mortal. Like, it’s weird. I feel like there are those people that we always assume are going to outlive us no matter how old they are.

Losing RBG, is like losing a mother or an aunt that you now live far away from. I may not have said much about her. I may have “forgotten to call” most of the time. But, her absence is felt deeply for me.

I was planning on working on my novel tonight. I have plans to publish the first dystopian novel series in which every narrator is on the autism spectrum. The cast of characters, across the 3 novels, is deliberately diverse in neurotype, race, physical ability, and gender expression while still recognizing the unique differences in the desires and experiences of my LGBT characters in particular.

I realize that maybe it was a little omen that I should write tonight. Because that story is my resistance. My existence is resistance.

[s-trawberryv-eins]

The Three of Us

Summary: On the anniversary of Pietro's death, Wanda finds herself quite alone. The blossoming of new friendships helps to make the day more bearable.

Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of grief.

Please read here before reading!

Stark!OC x Scarlet Witch

Stark!OC x Black Widow

Word count: 1034

A/N: This is set roughly 2 months after Caroline’s identity was revealed.

 MAY 2024

AVENGERS COMPOUND

UPSTATE NEW YORK

Caroline Stark struggled with keeping tidy on the best of days. She had far more important things to be doing, arranging formulas, fixing robotic limbs, creating and updating tech for the team. Maintaining order was rarely on her list of things to do. As Dr Banner fought his way through the piles of paper and the heaps of lab equipment that littered the path to his desk, he let out a rather frustrated sigh.

“I mean, how can you even function like this? It’s worse than usual, Care?!” Raking a hand through his curls, he shook his head vigorously. "I want separate labs."

“My laptop! Have you seen my laptop?! I cannot find it anywhere." Frantically looking under mountains of papers and textbooks, she continued to search without a breath. "There is an entire weeks’ worth of designs on there that ARE NOT BACKED UP. I need it. Right now." Her misdirected anger didn't faze Banner, as he looked around the room.

“The white one?” When she only offered him a dumb look in response, Banner just shrugged lamely. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I saw Wanda with it yesterday.” Throwing his arms up, gesturing at the bombsite in front of him, he continued, but Caroline showed no interest as she was already on her way out of the door. “You can’t leave me to work in this mess, Care! Caroline? Oh for God’s sake!”.

-

“FRIDAY is Wanda home?”

“I’m afraid not,” the AI responded politely “she went out early this morning, Miss Stark.” Pushing the Maximoff girl’s door open slightly, Caroline hesitated. She'd only had a handful of interactions with Wanda and didn't want to invade her personal space before they really became friends. But she needed that computer. Biting loosely on her bottom lip, she slipped inside the room and instantly spotted her laptop open on the bed. Sliding down in front of it, she hastily entered her password. What appeared on the screen in front of her left her feeling even more concerned; less for the whereabouts of her work, but for the wellbeing of her teammate.

‘FLIGHTS TO SOKOVIA MEMORIAL’.

Caroline had heard all about Sokovia from her Father. Hell, she’d received a goodbye phone call from him right before he and Thor blew the city to smithereens. The whole world knew about Pietro Maximoffs sacrifice. Barton had made sure of it.

Closing her laptop, she slid off the bed and left to search for Natasha. With Friday pointing her in the right direction, it didn't take her long to find the other female Avenger.

“Wanda isn’t here." Black Widow was already pulling her jacket on before she could continue with her sentence. “It’s nine years to the day, and it’s the first time without Vision.” With a quiet voice and cautious words, she explained her findings to the superspy.

“Laura phoned—Clint’s wife, Laura. She’s there. Drove herself there this morning.” Caroline didn’t feel it her place to comment. She hadn’t been there; on that flying city. She hadn’t witnessed the horrors that they had or felt the pain of Pietro’s death. So she merely followed after Natasha and climbed in the passenger seat next to her.

-

Arriving at the Barton household, the two friends held a firm grip on each other’s hands. As they walked down the path, a woman appeared in the doorway with a sad smile on her face.

“Clint took Cooper and Lila out. She’s upstairs with Nathaniel. They’ve been playing for hours.” Natasha headed straight up the stairs, but Laura continued. “You look a lot like your Father, you know. He was a good man. I would’ve said something at the funeral, but…” trailing off, Caroline could tell that Mrs Barton was truly genuine in her words. With a gentle touch to her shoulder and a shaky smile, Caroline nodded slightly.

“Thankyou. That means a lot.” Suddenly finding herself at a bit of a loss for words, she excused herself, running after Natasha up the stairs.

-

“Auntie Wanda, why are you sad today? Momma said you miss your brother. Where is he?” The soft boyish voice led the girls down the hall, where they made their presence known. Taking a seat either side of the grieving girl, Caroline tried her best to explain to Nathaniel what had happened to Pietro.

“A few years ago, before you were even born, your Daddy and his friends went to save the world. He got into some trouble rescuing a little boy, but Auntie Wanda’s brother was there to save him! But he got hurt real bad. So he’s not here anymore.” Voice feather soft as she was unsure how Wanda would respond to her telling of Pietro’s death. But feeling the Witch's hand wrap around her own, she felt more confident to continue.

“He died? Saving Daddy?” The Barton boys voice was curious as he spoke, trying to understand what Caroline had said.

“Yeah, he died. But can you guess what his name was?”

“Pietro! I remember! That’s one of my names!” A gasp fell from Wanda’s lips at his response, and she couldn’t hold her tears back. As if reading the situation perfectly, Nathaniel merely climbed into the Witch's lap and stayed there, leaning against her softly. The four of them remained huddled together silently, until Wanda gave a signal that she was okay to stand.

“Auntie Wanda, I’ll be like your brother now. I’m super fast! See?” The three Avengers giggled as he dashed out of the room, out of sight.

With a soft sigh, the brunettes grip tightened on her two super friends, her voice barely audible as she asked, "can we go home?"

-

Upon their return, Sam and Bucky had cleared out the common living room for the girls to claim as their own for the night. They’d prepared tea for the three, too. Few words were exchanged that night, but it was enough. After that, things were very different. Caroline was no longer a trusted acquaintance, but a true friend to the girls. Sleepovers were held, coffee dates arranged, shopping trips endured, and battles won together. Caroline had never felt more at home.