#I appreciate that you were letting me know very kindly and politely! But I literally don't know how more clear I can make it

[tubbytarchia]

Points at my pinned message. There's a message there in bold. I'm sorry I don't clarify that I'm talking about CHARACTERS ONLY in posts that I don't maintag. I presume if you're on my blog to see these posts at all, you would already know as much. CHARACTERS please... just characters.... I've acknowledged that CC Jimmy is not bothered by the bullying many times. I'm very aware... I'm talking about characters......................

[phoenixyfriend]

OKAY so on the topic of Star Wars takes wrt “character ends up in an A/B/O universe where they’re an omega, but they were previously a cis male in their canon”

@atagotiak and I had some Thoughts on discord

So, obviously, Anakin would make a good omega and he’s also incredibly murdery. Foregone conclusion that we're using him for this.

There is no preexisting Anakin in the Omegaverse. He shows up JUST as the war is starting. Canon timeline is in the third year of the war (he’s 22), but whatever dumped him into omegaverse also tossed him back a few years. No de-aging, just a bit of mismatched timeline stuff.

He's... really good at war, and clearly a Jedi, so the Temple just kind of goes "WELL OKAY THEN, SURE, YOU'RE IN, EVERYONE PRETEND HE'S BEEN HERE THE WHOLE TIME." The Jedi, by and large, don't care about omegaverse dynamics beyond 'what do you need, medically, to be happy and healthy' and 'what do you need to be aware of so you can be prepared for biases you encounter in the field?’

None of the civilian natborns (mainly politicians) want to put him on the field because of those biases. Anakin, being Anakin, is VERY blatantly an omega in scent, has never been on suppressants (because it wasn't a thing he fucking NEEDED), is incredibly emotional as a person, loves kids, etc.

Like, nobody wants an omega fighting a war anyway, but THIS one is like PINNACLE omega, and those awful Jedi are making him FIGHT just because he's good at stab!

The Jedi: Actually, it's because he's got several years of war experience that we don't, and he's a good tactician that works well with the clones-- Coruscant: You MONSTERS The Jedi: Look, we gave him the option to not stab and he looked absolutely devastated. Anakin, several days earlier: You don’t want me? I’m not good enough??? Jedi: Also he can beat up at least half the temple.

He doesn't know a damn thing about dynamics, but he DOES know that sometimes he's so horny he wants to stab HARDER. The clones are largely disinterested in their generals' dynamics because between mostly-Mando* trainers and no-dynamic Kaminoans, they only really care if a person can shoot.

* Mandalore approves of Fighty Omegas. As far as (traditional) Mandalore is concerned, you want an omega that will kill the threats to your children as well as you do.

Anakin: You know more about being an omega than I do. Rex: ...I'm an alpha. Anakin: Yeah. Let that one sink in a bit.

We have two options for Obi-Wan!

Omegaverse local Obi-Wan (beta) has never met this man before, and is very unnerved that the immediate default reaction Anakin has to his presence is releasing Family pheromones as if Obi-Wan is his DAD and like. This strange, too-tall man from another dimension has got absolutely NO control over what he projects in the Force OR in his dynamic.

Obi-Wan was ALSO transplanted from canon to omegaverse, and is also an omega, for contrast reasons. He is nice and friendly and and likes poetry and that sort of thing... but also he has the highest dismemberment count in the movies. Also he doesn’t prioritize romance.

We went with the second one because it's hilarious.

Someone watching them spar: Wow, omegas from that universe are terrifying.

As previously mentioned, now with some tweaking to account for both: Obi-Wan and Anakin just straight up don't exist until they drop headfirst into the council room, already covered in blood. (It's mostly not theirs.)

Nobody realizes either one is an omega until they "naturalize" to this dimension and Anakin goes into heat... and doesn't realize it, actually, because his primary symptom is heightened protectiveness and aggression. Everyone else with the right nose realizes, because the man has no control over his pheromone production, but Anakin? No. He just stabs. He’s angry and horny and he will cut someone.

Ahsoka has no reaction to human pheromones but basically everyone smells Anakin's "my child!" reaction to her, so... Cool. Have a padawan, we guess.

Anakin ends up sparring a lot with Aayla and Ahsoka, because only humans and near humans have dynamics, so these two don't REACT to the pheromones situation.

(Palpatine is a Kindly Old Beta who tries to treat Anakin the way he EXPECTS Anakin wants to be treated, which is. Not. Accurate.)

(Anakin hates it.)

I'm just so in love with "An omega can't fight." "You wanna fuckin' bet?"

There are plenty of omega Jedi, by the way, it's just... most of them can keep it relatively low-key instead of Anakin's jet-engine broadcast. Some, if they're known to be omega, probably take advantage of being underestimated, like Obi-Wan probably (and especially a version of Obi-Wan that was always an omega, unlike this version). They have a very different way of presenting themselves than Anakin, who's not subtle about being an omega and also not subtle about being all aggressive and stabby.

At one point, Anakin has to protect some Very Traditional Individuals who get all "Stay back, Omega, it's not safe!" and he's just... so tired of this shit. “You are squishy civilians and I'm a trained Jedi Knight and accomplished GAR General who's killed more people in one sitting than there are in this entire palace. Sit the fuck down and let me do my job.”

It starts making the rounds that Anakin insisted on fighting in person, and the rumors shift from "how dare the Jedi force an omega to fight" and over into things that are deeply hurtful in-universe in the vein of "broken omega" and some people try to say it to his face but like...

He didn't grow up here.

He doesn't care.

Say that to one of his friends and he's going to rip out your spleen, probably, but say it to him and he's just staring at you flatly and asking if that's a negative on getting away from the encroaching battle droids, sir?

"You're rather unpleasant for an omega, aren't you?" [deeply offensive] "I literally could not give less of a fuck about your opinion. Move."

It's not that there aren't omegas that act like Anakin, either, it's just that most of them aren't, you know, Jedi who regularly interact with the upper crust, or capable of his level of destruction. Unbeknownst to Anakin, everyone clocks him as Outer Rim based on his behavior, well before his accent gives him away, and certainly before he mentions he's from Tatooine, because Core Omegas Don't Act Like That.

Someone they meet in a more diplomatic setting says something decently passive-aggressive about how at least Obi-Wan acts more like how an Omega should. Then a battle breaks out for some reason, and... well. Anakin and Obi-Wan cause such a scandal by keeping score of kills in a battle, don’t you know?

Turns out sending Anakin to fight Ventress is great because she keeps expecting him to react a certain way but NO he's here to STAB.

I like the idea that Obi-Wan's favorite opponent these days is Grievous because the cyborg doesn't have a nose, and thus gives zero fucks about dynamics or heats. Dooku is a rich old man who has opinions heavily influenced by Sith Juice Making Him More of a Dick, and the Dathomiri can smell dynamics even if they don't have them, and so they have biases about those things. Meanwhile, Grievous is just there to Kill, and Obi-Wan genuinely appreciates the lack of commentary on his dynamic.

Dooku’s probably an alpha, or a beta who's used the whole "we are more level-headed" thing as one of several angles to keep himself the public face and supreme commander of the CIS.

On to more fluffy things that have less to do with political biases.

There's a lot of "I'm upset that my loved ones don't know me," but also please understand the appeal of Obi-Wan marching up to Quinlan like "Yes, hello, I understand you've been read in on the full situation behind myself and my former padawan. I was close friends with your alternate universe self, which I feel is necessary disclosure before I propose the following: Would you like to join me for my upcoming heat, as I have minimal experience with the dynamics situation and even fewer people I actually trust, and I believe I can put my faith in you to treat it as casually as necessary while still having control and respect for my person."

(The Team is in a fairly safe place to process stuff, but having sudden unexpected changes to your biology has gotta be a little traumatizing, on top of ending up in a universe where none of your friends know you and people have a whole host of unfamiliar forms of sexism to point at you.)

Obi-Wan, who wasn't quite touch-averse but was much more easily overwhelmed by physical contact than Anakin (who craved it), suddenly finds his body switching gears and insisting on cuddles with Trusted Loved Ones, which is.... mostly Anakin, on account of nobody else really knowing him yet. Also Ahsoka, who is aware that she's something of a replacement for her alt-universe self, but Anakin explained it as "I love you so much no matter which dimension I'm in or what you're like, and I'd like to get to know you the way I got know her."

(It's rather eloquent for Anakin. He got Obi-Wan to help him draft up the script for when he pitched taking on omegaverse Ahsoka as a padawan.)

Anakin gets a more intensely sexual heat than 'usual' at one point for Reasons (IDK it could be as innocuous as 'we got better food than the usual rations and my body is reacting to the higher fat content with the belief that it's safer to have a baby now'), which nobody takes a whole lot of notice of because they're in a WAR, and also this is only his fourth one so it's not like he's got a lot to compare it to... except then the predominantly alpha clones can't stop themselves from reacting to the pheromones, mostly by wandering past his door and asking if he needs anything, offering up alpha-scented blankets and stuff for the nest to soothe the hormones, bringing snacks and electrolyte drinks, and like, Anakin is flattered, really, but fuck off please.

(He got a warning from medical a few hours before it hit that it would be different, so he actually does have alpha-scented fabrics to help him out. Apparently that's a thing you can just ask friends for, so he asked Rex if he had anything on hand that he could spare. He now has one of Rex’s recently-used sheets and a bodyglove in the nest.)

(Anakin has no idea how to feel about the nesting instinct, but at least it’s warm.)

Tia asked "Oh hey, who has the scared and horny reaction to his carnage?" and like.

Listen. I'm not saying I've been low-key imagining this as Rex being a very subby alpha who's really into Anakin's whole Thing but...

At one point Anakin gets injured in a way that requires painkillers and he ends up whining to the point of almost crying about the fact that nobody is cuddling him right now in medbay and Kix just gives up and comms Ahsoka to come hug her weird older brother.

And Then There Is Purring.

That’s a Thing Now.

Rex ends up in the pile somehow. He came over to check on Things and ended up yanked in by half-asleep, half-high Anakin, who has a grip like an octopus and no impulse control and is purring like a pod motor while NUZZLING HIM.

There’s a lot of blackmail photos featuring Rex’s very intense blush as he’s cuddled by his commander (giggling at him) and general (clinging like a tooka and rubbing himself all over).

Anakin is deeply offended that ANYONE thinks he'd want to get pregnant by just any old person, NO he needs to fall in LOVE there needs to be EMOTIONAL DRAMA and if Padme won't have him (apparently she's in a relationship and no he's not BITTER) then he'll find someone else to have a whirlwind romance with!

People think Anakin's a slut because he can't control his pheromone production (he has NO practice and for health reasons he can't go on suppressants) so he always smells open and ready for flirtations, which Obi-Wan also has to a somewhat lesser degree (he's older so his body just naturally produces less), and then someone tries to cross a boundary and grabs his ass and ANYWAY Anakin has to now fill out an incident report for breaking a civilian's arm.

Again.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: I have always appreciated your thoughtful views on the defence of the British monarchy, and as a university historian it’s reassuring to see someone using history to make invalubale insights to a controversial institution. I wonder what are your own thoughts on the passing of Prince Philip and what his legacy might be? Was he a gaffe prone racist and a liability to the Queen?

I know you kindly got in touch and identified yourself when you felt I was ignoring your question. I’m glad we cleared that up via DM. The truth is as I said and I’m saying here is that I had to let some time pass before I felt I could reasonably answer this question. Simply because - as you know as someone who teaches history at university - distance is good to make a sober appraisal rather than knee jerk in the moment judgements.

Contrary to what some might think I’m not really a fan girl when it comes to the royal family. I don’t religiously follow their every movement or utterance especially as I live in Paris and therefore I don’t really care about tabloid tittle tattle. I only get to hear of anything to do with the royal family when I speak to my parents or my great aunts and uncles for whom the subject is closer to their heart because of the services my family has rendered over past generations to the monarchy and the older (and dying) tight knit social circles they travel in.

Like Walter Bagehot, I’m more interested in the monarchy as an institution and its constitutional place within the historical, social, and political fabric of Britain and its continued delicate stabilising importance to that effect. It was Walter Bagehot, the great constitutional scholar and editor the Economist magazine, who said, “The mystic reverence, the religious allegiance, which are essential to a true monarchy, are imaginative sentiments that no legislature can manufacture in any people.” In his view, a politically-inactive monarchy served the best interests of the United Kingdom; by abstaining from direct rule, the monarch levitated above the political fray with dignity, and remained a respected personage to whom all subjects could look to as a guiding light.

Even as a staunch monarchist I freely confess that there has always been this odd nature of the relationship between hereditary monarchy and a society increasingly ambivalent about the institution. To paraphrase Bagehot again, there has been too much ‘daylight’ shone onto the ‘magic’ of the monarchy because we are obsessed with personalities as celebrities.

Having said that I did feel saddened by the passing of Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh. After the Queen, he was my favourite royal. Anne, Princess Royal, would come next because she is very much like her father in temperament, humour, and character, so unlike her other brothers.

I have met the late Prince Philip when I was serving in the army in a few regimental meet-and-greet situations - which as you may know is pretty normal given that members of the royal family serve as honorary colonel-in-chiefs (patrons in effect) of all the British army regiments and corps.I also saw him at one or two social events such the annual charitable Royal Caledonian Ball (he’s an expert scottish reeler) and the Guards Polo Club where my older brothers played.

I’ll will freely confess that he was the one royal I could come close to identify with because his personal biography resonated with me a great deal.

Let’s be honest, the core Windsor family members, born to privilege, are conditioned and raised to be dull. Perhaps that’s a a tad harsh. I would prefer the term ‘anonymously self-effacing’, just another way of saying ‘for God’s sake don’t draw attention to yourself by saying or doing anything even mildly scandalous or political lest it invites public opprobrium and scrutiny’. The Queen magnificently succeeds in this but the others from Charles down just haven’t (with the exception of Princess Anne).

However, many people forget this obvious fact that it’s the incoming husbands and wives who marry into the Windsor family who are relied upon to bring colour and even liven things up a little. And long before Kate Middleton, Meghan Markle (very briefly), or Lady Diana Spencer, were the stars of ‘The Firm’- a phrase first coined by King George VI, Queen Elizabeth II's father who ruled from 1936 to 1952, who was thought to have wryly said, "British royals are 'not a family, we're a firm,” - it was Prince Philip who really livened things up and made the greater impact on the monarchy than any of them in the long term.  

Prince Philip’s passing belied the truth of a far more complex individual: a destitute and penniless refugee Greek-Danish prince with a heart breaking backstory that could have been penned by any 19th Century novelist, and also eagle eyed reformer who tried to drag the royal family into the 20th century. At the core of the man - lost scion of a lost European royal dynasty, a courageous war veteran, and Queen’s consort - were values in which he attempted to transform and yet maintain much older inherited traditions and attitudes. Due to his great longevity, Philip’s life came to span a period of social change that is almost unprecedented, and almost no one in history viewed such a transformation from the front row.

Prince Philip would seem to represent in an acute form the best of the values of that era, which in many ways jar with today��s. He had fought with great courage in the war as a dashing young naval officer; he was regularly rude to foreigners, which was obviously a bonus to all Brits. He liked to ride and sail and shoot things. He was unsentimental almost to a comic degree, which felt reassuring at a time when a new-found emotional incontinence made many feel uncomfortable. Outrageous to some but endearing to others, he was the sort of man you’d want to go for a pint with, perhaps the ultimate compliment that an Englishman can pay to another Englishman. This has its own delicious irony as he wasn’t really an Englishman.

There are 4 takeways I would suggest in my appraisal of Prince Philip that stand out for me. So let me go through each one.

1. Prince Philip’s Internationalism

It may seem odd for me to say that Prince Philip wasn’t English but he wasn’t an Englishman in any real sense. He was a wretch of the world - stateless, homeless, and penniless. That the Prince of Nowhere became the British Monarchy’s figurehead was more than fitting for a great age of migration and transition in which the Royal Family survived and even flourished. That he was able to transform himself into the quintessential Englishman is testimony not just to his personal determination but also to the powerful cultural pull of Britishness.

He was born on a kitchen table in Corfu in June 1921. A year later in 1922, Philip, as the the great-great-grandson of Queen Victoria and nephew of Constantine I of Greece, was forced to flee with his family after the abdication of Constantine. He grew up outside Paris speaking French; ethnically he was mostly German although he considered himself Danish, his family originating from the Schleswig border region. He was in effect, despite his demeanour of Royal Navy officer briskness, a citizen of nowhere in an age of movement. From a very young age he was a stateless person, nationally homeless. Indeed, Philip was an outsider in a way that even Meghan Markle could never be; at his wedding in 1947, his three surviving sisters and two brothers-in-law were not permitted to attend because they were literally Britain’s enemies, having fought for the Germans. A third brother-in-law had even been in the SS, working directly for Himmler, but had been killed in the conflict.

Even his religion was slightly exotic. He was Greek Orthodox until he converted to Anglicanism on marrying Elizabeth - what with his wife due to become supreme head of the Church and everything  - but his ties with eastern Christianity remained. His great-aunts Princess Elisabeth of Hesse and by Rhine and Tsarina Alexandra are both martyrs of the Russian Orthodox Church, having been murdered by the Bolsheviks; Philip’s mother went on to become an Orthodox nun and a “Righteous Among the Nations” for saving a Jewish family during the Nazi occupation of Greece, spending much of her time in squalid poverty.

His parents were part of the largely German extended aristocracy who ruled almost all of Europe before it all came crashing down in 1918. When he died, aged 99, it marked a near-century in which all the great ideological struggles had been and gone; he had been born before the Soviet Union but outlived the Cold War, the War on Terror and - almost - Covid-19.

The world that Philip was born into was a far more violent and dangerous place than ours. In the year he was born, Irish rebels were still fighting Black and Tans; over the course of 12 months the Spanish and Japanese prime ministers were assassinated, there was a coup in Portugal and race riots in the United States. Germany was rocked by violence from the far-Left and far-Right, while in Italy a brutal new political movement, the Fascists, secured 30 seats in parliament, led by a trashy journalist called Benito Mussolini.

The worst violence, however, took place in Greece and Turkey. Following the defeat of the Ottoman Empire, what remained of Turkey was marked for permanent enfeeblement by the Allies. But much to everyone’s surprise the country’s force were roused by the brilliant officer Mustafa Kemal, who led the Turks to victory. Constantinople was lost to Christendom for good and thousands of years of Hellenic culture was put to the flames in Smyrna.

The Greek royal family, north German imports shipped in during the 19th century, bore much of the popular anger for this disaster. King Constantine fled to Italy, and his brother Andrew was arrested and only escaped execution through the intervention of his relative Britain’s George V. Andrew’s wife Alice, their four daughters and infant son Philip fled to France, completely impoverished but with the one possession that ensures that aristocrats are never truly poor: connections.

Philip had a traumatic childhood. He was forged by the turmoil of his first decade and then moulded by his schooling. His early years were spent wandering, as his place of birth ejected him, his family disintegrated and he moved from country to country, none of them ever his own. When he was just a year old, he and his family were scooped up by a British destroyer from his home on the Greek island of Corfu after his father had been condemned to death. They were deposited in Italy. One of Philip's first international journeys was spent crawling around on the floor of the train from an Italian port city, "the grubby child on the desolate train pulling out of the Brindisi night," as his older sister Sophia later described it.

In Paris, he lived in a house borrowed from a relative; but it was not destined to become a home. In just one year, while he was at boarding school in Britain, the mental health of his mother, Princess Alice, deteriorated and she went into an asylum; his father, Prince Andrew, went off to Monte Carlo to live with his mistress. "I don't think anybody thinks I had a father," he once said. Andrew would die during the war. Philip went to Monte Carlo to pick up his father's possessions after the Germans had been driven from France; there was almost nothing left, just a couple of clothes brushes and some cuff-links.

Philip’s four sisters were all much older, and were soon all married to German aristocrats (the youngest would soon die in an aeroplane crash, along with her husband and children). His sisters became ever more embroiled in the German regime. In Scotland going to Gordonstoun boarding school, Philip went the opposite direction, becoming ever more British. Following the death of his sister Cecilie in a plane crash in 1937, the gulf widened. As the clouds of conflict gathered, the family simply disintegrated. With a flash of the flinty stoicism that many would later interpret, with no little justification, as self-reliance to the point of dispassion, the prince explained: “It’s simply what happened. The family broke up… I just had to get on with it. You do. One does.”

In the space of 10 years he had gone from a prince of Greece to a wandering, homeless, and virtually penniless boy with no-one to care for him. He got through it by making a joke of everything, and by being practical.

By the time he went to Gordonstoun, a private boarding school on the north coast of Scotland, Philip was tough, independent and able to fend for himself; he'd had to be. Gordonstoun would channel those traits into the school's distinct philosophy of community service, teamwork, responsibility and respect for the individual. And it sparked one of the great passions of Philip's life - his love of the sea. It was Gordonstoun that nurtured that love through the maturation of his character.

Philip adored the school as much as his son Charles would despise it. Not just because the stress it put on physical as well as mental excellence - he was a great sportsman. But because of its ethos, laid down by its founder Kurt Hahn, a Jewish exile from Nazi Germany.

Hahn first met Philip as a boy in Nazi Germany. Through a connection via one of his sister’s husbands, Philip, the poor, lonely boy was first sent off to a new school - in Nazi Germany. Which was as fun as can be imagined. Schloss Salem had been co-founded by stern educator called Kurt Hahn, a tough, discipline-obsessed conservative nationalist who saw civilisation in inexorable decline. But by this stage Hahn, persecuted for being Jewish in Nazi Germany, had fled to Britain, and Philip did not spend long at the school either, where pressure from the authorities was already making things difficult for the teachers. Philip laughed at the Nazis at first, because their salute was the same gesture the boys at his previous school had to make when they wanted to go to the toilet, but within a year he was back in England, a refugee once again.

Philip happily attended Hahn’s new school, Gordonstoun, which the strict disciplinarian had set up in the Scottish Highlands. Inspired by Ancient Sparta, the boys (and then later girls) had to run around barefoot and endure cold showers, even in winter, the whole aim of which was to drive away the inevitable civilisational decay Hahn saw all around him. To 21st century ears it sounds like hell on earth, yet Philip enjoyed it, illustrating just what a totally alien world he came from.

That ethos became a significant, perhaps the significant, part of the way that Philip believed life should be lived. It shines through the speeches he gave later in his life. "The essence of freedom," he would say in Ghana in 1958, "is discipline and self-control." The comforts of the post-war era, he told the British Schools Exploring Society a year earlier, may be important "but it is much more important that the human spirit should not be stifled by easy living". And two years before that, he spoke to the boys of Ipswich School of the moral as well as material imperatives of life, with the "importance of the individual" as the "guiding principle of our society".

It was at Gordonstoun one of the great contradictions of Philip's fascinating life was born. The importance of the individual was what in Kurt Hahn's eyes differentiated Britain and liberal democracies from the kind of totalitarian dictatorship that he had fled. Philip put that centrality of the individual, and individual agency - the ability we have as humans to make our own moral and ethical decisions - at the heart of his philosophy.

At Dartmouth Naval College in 1939, the two great passions of his life would collide. He had learned to sail at Gordonstoun; he would learn to lead at Dartmouth. And his driving desire to achieve, and to win, would shine through. Despite entering the college far later than most other cadets, he would graduate top of his class in 1940. In further training at Portsmouth, he gained the top grade in four out of five sections of the exam. He became one of the youngest first lieutenants in the Royal Navy.

The navy ran deep in his family. His maternal grandfather had been the First Sea Lord, the commander of the Royal Navy; his uncle, "Dickie" Mountbatten, had command of a destroyer while Philip was in training. In war, he showed not only bravery but guile. It was his natural milieu. "Prince Philip", wrote Gordonstoun headmaster Kurt Hahn admiringly, "will make his mark in any profession where he will have to prove himself in a trial of strength".

2. Prince Philip and the modernisation of the monarchy

In his own words, the process of defining what it meant to be a royal consort was one of “trial and error.” Speaking with BBC One’s Fiona Bruce in 2011, Philip explained, “There was no precedent. If I asked somebody, 'What do you expect me to do?' they all looked blank. They had no bloody idea, nobody had much idea.” So he forged for himself a role as a moderniser of the monarchy.

He could not have had much idea back in 1939. Back then in Dartmouth in 1939, as war became ever more certain, the navy was his destiny. He had fallen in love with the sea itself. "It is an extraordinary master or mistress," he would say later, "it has such extraordinary moods." But a rival to the sea would come.

When King George VI toured Dartmouth Naval College, accompanied by Philip's uncle, he brought with him his daughter, Princess Elizabeth. Philip was asked to look after her. He showed off to her, vaulting the nets of the tennis court in the grounds of the college. He was confident, outgoing, strikingly handsome, of royal blood if without a throne. She was beautiful, a little sheltered, a little serious, and very smitten by Philip.

Did he know then that this was a collision of two great passions? That he could not have the sea and the beautiful young woman? For a time after their wedding in 1948, he did have both. As young newlyweds in Malta, he had what he so prized - command of a ship - and they had two idyllic years together. But the illness and then early death of King George VI brought it all to an end.

He knew what it meant, the moment he was told. Up in a lodge in Kenya, touring Africa, with Princess Elizabeth in place of the King, Philip was told first of the monarch's death in February 1952. He looked, said his equerry Mike Parker, "as if a ton of bricks had fallen on him". For some time he sat, slumped in a chair, a newspaper covering his head and chest. His princess had become the Queen. His world had changed irrevocably.

While the late Princess Diana was later to famously claim that there were “three people” in her marriage - herself, Prince Charles and Camilla - there were at least 55 million in Philip and Elizabeth’s. As Elizabeth dedicated her life to her people at Westminster Abbey at the Coronation on June 2, 1953, it sparked something of an existential crisis in Philip. Many people even after his death have never really understood this pivotal moment in Philip’s life. All his dreams of being a naval officer and a life at sea as well as being the primary provider and partner in his marriage were now sacrificed on the altar of duty and love.

With his career was now over, and he was now destined to become the spare part. Philip, very reasonably, asked that his future children and indeed his family be known by his name, Mountbatten. In effect he was asking to change the royal family’s name from the House of Windsor to the House of Mountbatten. But when Prime Minister Winston Churchill got wind of it as well as the more politically agile courtiers behind the Queen, a prolonged battle of wits ensued, and it was one Philip ultimately lost. It was only in 1957 that he accepted the title of “Prince.”

Even though he had almost lost everything dear to him and his role now undefined, he didn’t throw himself a pity party. He just got on with it. Philip tried to forge his own distinct role as second fiddle to the woman who had come to represent Great Britain. He designated himself the First Officer of the Good Ship Windsor. He set about dusting off some of the cobwebs off the throne and letting some daylight unto the workings of the monarchy by advocating reasonable amount of modernisation of the monarchy.

He had ideas about modernising the royal family that might be called “improving optics” today. But in his heart of hearts he didn’t want the monarchy to become a stuffy museum piece. He envisaged a less stuffy and more popular monarchy, relevant to the lives of ordinary people. Progress was always going to be incremental as he had sturdy opposition from the old guard who wanted to keep everything as it was, but nevertheless his stubborn energy resulted in significant changes.

When a commission chaired by Prince Philip proposed broadcasting the 1953 investiture ceremony that formally named Elizabeth II as queen on live television, Prime Minister Winston Churchill reacted with outright horror, declaring, “It would be unfitting that the whole ceremony should be presented as if it were a theatrical performance.” Though the queen had initially voiced similar concerns, she eventually came around to the idea, allowing the broadcast of all but one segment of the coronation. Ultimately, according to the BBC, more than 20 million people tuned in to the televised ceremony - a credit to the foresight of Philip.

Elizabeth’s coronation marked a watershed moment for a monarchy that has, historically, been very hands off, old-fashioned and slightly invisible. Over the following years, the royals continued to embrace television as a way of connecting with the British people: In 1957, the queen delivered her annual Christmas address during a live broadcast. Again, this was Philip’s doing when he cajoled the Queen to televise her message live. He even helped her in how to use the teleprompter to get over her nerves and be herself on screen.

Four years later, in 1961, Philip became the first family member to sit for a television interview. It is hard for us to imagine now but back then it was huge. For many it was a significant step in modernising the monarchy.

Though not everything went to plan. Toward the end of the decade, the Windsors even invited cameras into their home. A 1969 BBC fly-on-the-wall documentary, instigated by Philip to show life behind the scenes, turned into an unmitigated disaster: “The Windsors” revealed the royals to be a fairly normal, if very rich, British upper-class family who liked barbecues, ice cream, watching television and bickering. The mystery of royalty took a hit below the waterline from their own torpedo, a self-inflicted wound from which they took a long time to recover. Shown once, the documentary was never aired again. But it had an irreversible effect, and not just by revealing the royals to be ordinary. By allowing the cameras in, Philip opened the lid to the prying eyes of the paparazzi who could legitimately argue that since the Royals themselves had sanctioned exposure, anything went. From then on, minor members of the House of Windsor were picked off by the press, like helpless tethered animals on a hunting safari.

Prince Philip also took steps to reorganise and renovate the royal estates in Sandringham and Balmoral such as intercoms, modern dish washers,  generally sought to make the royal household and the monarchy less stuffy, not to have so much formality everywhere.

Philip helped modernised the monarchy in other ways to acknowledge that the monarchy could be responsive to changes in society. It was Prince Philip - much to the chagrin of the haughty Princess Margaret and other stuffy old courtiers - who persuaded the Queen to host informal lunches and garden parties designed to engage a broader swath of the British public. Conversely, Prince Philip heartily encouraged the Queen (she was all for it apparently but was still finding her feet as a new monarch) to end the traditional practice of presenting debutantes from aristocratic backgrounds at court in 1952. For Philip and others it felt antiquated and out of touch with society. I know in speaking to my grandmother and others in her generation the decision was received with disbelief at how this foreign penniless upstart could come and stomp on the dreams of mothers left to clutch their pearls at the prospect there would be no shop window for their daughter to attract a suitable gentleman for marriage. One of my great aunts was over the moon happy that she never would have to go through what she saw as a very silly ceremony because she preferred her muddy wellies to high heels. 

A former senior member of the royal household, who spent several years working as one of Prince Philip’s aides, and an old family friend, once told us around a family dinner table that the Duke of Edinburgh was undoubtedly given a sense of permanence by his marriage into the Royal Family that was missing from earlier years. But the royal aide would hastily add that Prince Philip, of course, would never see it that way.

Prince Philip’s attitude was to never brood on things or seek excuses. And he did indeed get on with the job in his own way  - there should be no doubt that when it came to building and strengthening the Royal Family it was a partnership of equals with the Queen. Indeed contrary to Netflix’s hugely popular series ‘The Crown’ and its depiction of the royal marriage with Philip’s resentment at playing second fiddle, the prince recognised that his “first duty was to serve the Queen in the best way I could,” as he told ITV in 2011. Though this role was somewhat ill-suited to his dynamic, driven, and outspoken temperament, Philip performed it with utter devotion.

3. Prince Philip’s legacy

One could argue rightly that modernising the monarchy was his lasting legacy achievement. But he also tried to modernise a spent and exhausted Britain as it emerged from a ruinous war. When peace came, and with it eventual economic recovery, Philip would throw himself into the construction of a better Britain, urging the country to adopt scientific methods, embracing the ideas of industrial design, planning, education and training. A decade before Harold Wilson talked of the "white heat of the technological revolution", Philip was urging modernity on the nation in speeches and interviews. He was on top of his reading of the latest scientific breakthroughs and well read in break out innovations.

This interest in modernisation was only matched by his love for nature. As the country and the world became richer and consumed ever more, Philip warned of the impact on the environment, well before it was even vaguely fashionable. As president of the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) in the UK for more than 20 years from 1961, he was one of the first high-profile advocates of the cause of conservation and biological diversity at a time when it was considered the preserve of an eccentric few.

For a generation of school children in Britain and the Commonwealth though, his most lasting legacy and achievement will be the Duke of Edinburgh Awards (DofE). He set up the Duke of Edinburgh award, a scheme aimed at getting young people out into nature in search of adventure or be of service to their communities. It was a scheme that could match the legacy of Baden Powell’s scouts movement. 

When Prince Philip first outlined his idea of a scheme to harness the values of his education at Gordonstoun by bringing character-building outdoor pursuits to the many rather than the fee-paying few, he received short shrift from the government of the day. The then minister of education, Sir David Eccles responded to the Duke’s proposal by saying: “I hear you’re trying to invent something like the Hitler Youth.” Undeterred he pushed on until it came to fruition.

I’m so glad that he did. I remember how proud I was for getting my DofE Awards while I was at boarding school. With the support of great mentors I managed to achieve my goals: collecting second-hand English books for a literacy programme for orphaned street children in Delhi, India with a close Indian school friend and her family; and completing a 350 mile hike following St. Olav’s Pilgrimmage Trail from Selånger, on the east coast of Sweden, and ending at Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim, on the west coast of Norway.

It continues to be an enduring legacy.  Since its launch in 1956, the Duke of Edinburgh awards have been bestowed upon some 2.5 million youngsters in Britain and some eight million worldwide. For a man who once referred to himself as a “Greek princeling of no consequence”, his pioneering tutelage of these two organisations (alongside some 778 other organisations of which he was either president or a patron) would be sufficient legacy for most.

4. Prince Philip’s character

It may surprise some but what I liked most about Prince Philip was the very thing that helped him achieve so much and leave a lasting legacy: his character.

It is unhelpful to the caricature of Prince Philip as an unwavering but pugnacious consort whose chief talent was a dizzying facility in off-colour one-liners that he was widely read and probably the cleverest member of his family.

His private library at Windsor consists of 11,000 tomes, among them 200 volumes of poetry. He was a fan of Jung, TS Eliot, Shakespeare and the cookery writer Elizabeth David. As well as a lifelong fascination with science, technology and sport, he spoke fairly fluent French, painted and wrote a well received book on birds. It’s maddening to think how many underestimated his genuine intellect and how cultured he was behind the crusty exterior.

He didn’t have an entourage to fawn around him. He was the first to own a computer at Buckingham Palace. He answered his own phone and wrote and responded to his own correspondence. By force of character he fought the old guard courtiers at every turn to modernise the monarchy  against their stubborn resistance.

Prince Philip was never given to self-analysis or reflection on the past. Various television interviewers tried without success to coerce him in to commenting on his legacy.But once when his guard was down he asked on the occasion of his 90th birthday what he was more proud of, he replied with characteristic bluntness: “I couldn’t care less. Who cares what I think about it, I mean it’s ridiculous.”

All of which neatly raises the profound aversion to fuss and the proclivity for tetchiness often expressed in withering put-downs that, for better or worse, will be the reflex memory for many of the Duke of Edinburgh. If character is a two edged sword so what of his gaffes? 

There is no doubt his cult status partly owed to his so-called legendary gaffes, of which there are enough to fill a book (indeed there is a book). But he was no racist. None of the Commonwealth people or foreign heads of state ever said this about him. Only leftist republicans with too much Twitter time on their hands screamed such a ridiculous accusation. They’re just overly sensitive snowflakes and being devoid of any humour they’re easily triggered.

There was the time that Philip accepted a gift from a local in Kenya, telling her she was a kind woman, and then adding: “You are a woman, aren’t you?” Or the occasion he remarked “You managed not to get eaten, then?” to a student trekking in Papua New Guinea. Then there was his World Wildlife Fund speech in 1986, when he said: “If it has got four legs and it is not a chair, if it has got two wings and it flies but is not an aeroplane, and if it swims and it is not a submarine, the Cantonese will eat it.” Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Philip quickly developed a reputation for what he once defined, to the General Dental Council, as “dentopedology – the science of opening your mouth and putting your foot in it”. Clearly he could laugh at himself as he often did as an ice breaker to put others at ease.

His remarking to the president of Nigeria, who was wearing national dress, “You look like you’re ready for bed”, or advising British students in China not to stay too long or they would end up with “slitty eyes”, is probably best written off as ill-judged humour. Telling a photographer to “just take the fucking picture” or declaring “this thing open, whatever it is”, were expressions of exasperation or weariness with which anyone might sympathise.

Above all, he was also capable of genuine if earthy wit, saying of his horse-loving daughter Princess Anne: “If it doesn’t fart or eat hay she isn’t interested.” Many people might have thought it but few dared say it. If Prince Philip’s famous gaffes provoked as much amusement as anger, it was precisely because they seem to give voice to the bewilderment and pent-up frustrations with which many people viewed the ever-changing modern world.

A former royal protection officer recounts how while on night duty guarding a visiting Queen and consort, he engaged in conversation with colleagues on a passing patrol. It was 2am and the officer had understood the royal couple to be staying elsewhere in the building until a window above his head was abruptly slammed open and an irate Prince Philip stuck his head out of the window to shout: “Would you fuck off!” Without another word, he then shut the window.

The Duke at least recognised from an early age that he was possessed of an abruptness that could all too easily cross the line from the refreshingly salty to crass effrontery.

One of his most perceptive biographers, Philip Eade, recounted how at the age of 21 the prince wrote a letter to a relation whose son had recently been killed in combat. He wrote: “I know you will never think much of me. I am rude and unmannerly and I say things out of turn which I realise afterwards must have hurt someone. Then I am filled with remorse and I try to put matters right.”

In the case of the royal protection officer, the Duke turned up in the room used by the police officers when off duty and said: “Terribly sorry about last night, wasn’t quite feeling myself.”

Aides have also ventured to explain away some of their employer’s more outlandish remarks - from asking Cayman islanders “You are descended from pirates aren’t you?” to enquiring of a female fashion writer if she was wearing mink knickers - as the price of his instinctive desire to prick the pomposity of his presence with a quip to put others at ease.

Indeed many people forget that his ‘gaffes’ were more typical of the clubbish humour of the British officer class – which of course would be less appreciated, sometimes even offensive, to other ears. It’s why he could relate so well to veterans who enjoyed his bonhomie company immensely.

But behind the irascibility, some have argued there also lay a darker nature, unpleasantly distilled in his flinty attitude to his eldest son. One anecdote tells of how, in the aftermath of the murder of the Duke’s uncle and surrogate father, Lord Mountbatten,  Philip lectured his son, who was also extremely fond of his “honorary grandfather”, that he was not to succumb to self-pity. Charles left the room in tears and when his father was asked why he had spoken to his son with so little compassion, the Duke replied: “Because if there’s any crying to be done I want it to happen within this house, in front of his family, not in public. He must be toughened up, right now.”

But here I would say that Prince Philip’s intentions were almost always sincere and in no way cruel. He has always tried to protect his family - even from their own worst selves or from those outside the family ‘firm’ who may not have their best interest at heart.

In 1937, a 16-year-old Prince Philip had walked behind his elder sister Cecile’s coffin after she was killed in a plane crash while heavily pregnant. The remains of newly-born infant found in the wreckage suggested the aircraft had perished as the pilot sought to make an emergency landing in fog as the mother entered childbirth. It was an excruciating taste of tragedy which would one day manifest itself in a very princely form of kindness that was deep down that defined Philip’s character.

When about 60 years later Prime Minister Tony Blair’s spin doctors in Downing Street tried to strong arm the Queen and the royal household over the the arrangements for the late Prince Diana’s funeral, it was Philip who stepped in front to protect his family. The Prime Minister and his media savvy spin doctors wanted the two young princes, William and Harry, to walk behind the coffin.

The infamous exchange was on the phone during a conference call between London and Balmoral, and the emotional Philip was reportedly backed by the Queen. The call was witnessed by Anji Hunter, who worked for Mr Blair. She said how surprised she was to hear Prince Philip’s emotion. ‘It’s about the boys,” he cried, “They’ve lost their mother”. Hunter thought to herself, “My God, there’s a bit of suffering going on up there”.’

Sky TV political commentator Adam Boulton (Anji Hunter’s husband) would write in his book Tony’s Ten Years: ‘The Queen relished the moment when Philip bellowed over the speakerphone from Balmoral, “Fuck off. We are talking about two boys who have just lost their mother”. Boulton goes on to say that Philip: ‘…was trying to remind everyone that human feelings were involved. No 10 were trying to help the Royals present things in the best way, but may have seemed insensitive.’

In the end the politicians almost didn’t get their way. Prince Philip stepped in to counsel his grandson, Prince William, after he had expressed a reluctance to follow his mother’s coffin after her death in Paris. Philip told the grieving child: “If you don’t walk, I think you’ll regret it later. If I walk, will you walk with me?”

It’s no wonder he was sought as a counsellor by other senior royals and especially close to his grandchildren, for whom he was a firm favourite. His relationship with Harry was said to have become strained, however, following the younger Prince’s decision to reject his royal inheritance for a life away from the public eye in America with his new American wife, Meghan Markle. For Prince Philip I am quite sure it went against all the elder Prince had lived his life by - self-sacrifice for the greater cause of royalty.

This is the key to Philip’s character and in understanding the man. The ingrained habits of a lifetime of duty and service in one form or another were never far away.

In conclusion then....

After more time passes I am sure historians will make a richer reassessment of Prince Philip’s life and legacy. Because Prince Philip was an extraordinary man who lived an extraordinary life; a life intimately connected with the sweeping changes of our turbulent 20th Century, a life of fascinating contrast and contradiction, of service and some degree of solitude. A complex, clever, eternally restless man that not even the suffocating protocols of royalty and tradition could bind him.

Although he fully accepted the limitations of public royal service, he did not see this as any reason for passive self-abnegation, but actively, if ironically, identified with his potentially undignified role. It is this bold and humorous embrace of fated restriction which many now find irksome: one is no longer supposed to mix public performance with private self-expression in quite this manner.

Yet such a mix is authentically Socratic: the proof that the doing of one’s duty can also be the way of self-fulfilment. The Duke’s sacrifice of career to romance and ceremonial office is all the more impressive for his not hiding some annoyance. The combination of his restless temperament and his deeply felt devotion to duty found fruitful expression; for instance, in the work of Saint George’s House Windsor - a centre and retreat that he created with Revd. Robin Woods - in exploring religious faith, philosophy, and contemporary issues.

Above all he developed a way to be male that was both traditional and modern. He served one woman with chivalric devotion as his main task in life while fulfilling his public engagements in a bold and active spirit. He eventually embraced the opportunity to read and contemplate more. And yet, he remained loyal to the imperatives of his mentor Kurt Hahn in seeking to combine imagination with action and religious devotion with practical involvement.

Prince Philip took more pride in the roles he had accidentally inherited than in the personal gifts which he was never able fully to develop. He put companionship before self-realisation and acceptance of a sacred symbolic destiny before the mere influencing of events. In all these respects he implicitly rebuked our prevailing meritocracy which over-values officially accredited attainment, and our prevailing narcissism which valorises the assertion of discrete identities.

Prince Philip was Britain’s longest-serving consort. He was steadfast, duty driven, and a necessary adjunct to the continuity and stability of the Queen and the monarchy. Of all the institutions that have lost the faith of the British public in this period - the Church, Parliament, the media, the police - the Monarchy itself has surprisingly done better than most at surviving, curiously well-adapted to a period of societal change and moral anarchy. The House of Hanover and later Saxe-Coburg and Gotha (changed to Windsor), since their arrival in this country in 1714, have been noted above all for their ability to adapt. And just as they survived the Victorian age by transforming themselves into the bourgeoise, domestic ideal, so they have survived the new Elizabethan era (Harry-Meghan saga is just a passing blip like the Edward-Wallis Simpson saga of the 1930s).

There was once a time when the Royal’s German blood was a punchline for crude and xenophobic satirists. Now it is the royals who are deeply British while the country itself is increasingly cosmopolitan and globalised. British society has seen a greater demographic change than the preceding four or five thousand years combined, the second Elizabethan age has been characterised more than anything by a transformational movement of people. Prince Philip, the Greek-born, Danish-German persecuted and destitute wanderer who came to become one of the Greatest Britons of the past century, perhaps epitomised that era better than anyone else. And he got through it by making a joke of everything, and by being practical.

I hope I don’t exaggerate when I say that in our troubled times over identity, and our place and purpose in the world, we need to heed his selfless example more than ever.

As Heraclitus wisely said,  Ήθος ανθρώπω δαίμων (Character is destiny.)

RIP Prince Philip. You were my prince. God damn you, I miss you already.

Thanks for your question.

[onlymexsarah]

Prince Friedrich | Amore e Psiche

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Request 1: “ i loved both jealousy and taste of sin so much!! 😍😍you literally made my day better. i would love to see more of them together. maybe how them courting or their first encounters? 😇🥲”

Request 2: “ I cant say i saw anything wrong with your prince friedrich imagine. I actually really fooocking loved it 🥰 💕!! It was so 🥰 cute!! I need more! Would you be willing to do a prequel of sorts where she met him and their walks in the park? Or even from his perspective of his first thoughts of the reader? “

Summary: (This is the prequel of “Prince Friedrich | Jealousy”) the behaviour of your sister Daphne brought you to meet Prince Friedrich at the ball with the Queen. 

Pairing: Prince Friedrich x Bridgerton!reader

Warnings: my english :)

A/N: For this one I got inspired by the story of Cupid and Psyche, if you don’t know it I leave you there a summary because there will be many allusions at their story ;)

SEQUEL 1 - SEQUEL 2

“Do you think that he will speak german? Or maybe he knows english? Oh, do you recon if His Highness had ever travelled?” you asked excited at your brother, Benedict, while you entered at the ball.

“I do not know, sister. You can ask these question to him personally, tonight.” he said ironical smiling at the Lords who walked beside you. 

“If he will have time for them, my dear brother. I am sure that if he’ll want peace he will have to disappear somewhere where the Ladies will be not able to find him.” you both laughed searching around the room your sister Daphne.

“Be careful with that tounge, Y/n. You know that I love you for that, but not many Lords will think the same.” he warned you kindly knowing that your temper wasn’t like the others Ladies.

“Fortunately I don’t want many Lords. I think that Lord de Bethencourt had hit the right string in me, and he likes me for who I am, Benedict.” you smiled thinking about your suitor, Lord de Bethencourt, that since the first ball had started courting you as a true gentleman without boring or offending you in any ways. “Look, there is my sister with...Simon.” 

Benedict could hear your smirk even without looking at you, indeed his attention was captured by the opening of the large doors followed by the entrance of Queen Charlotte with her nephew, Prince Friedrich of Prussia. 

“Oh, they are arri...ved....” your breating stopped for few seconds causing Benedict to look at you; however your gaze was fixed on the guy who’s arm was intertwined with the Queen’s. You would had sworn to have seen Cupid himself revealing his face for the first time as he did with Psyche after their marriage. When his eyes met yours, you were sure that Canova must had taked ispiration from him for Cupid’s sculpture, because never in your life you had ever seen such beauty as the Prince himself.

“I will be not surprise when you will drag Colin in Prussia at your next travel.” Benedict joked smirking looking the Prince who now was approaching your sister. 

You woke up from your dreams blinking many times to understand what was happening. The Prince now was speaking with Daphne but at some point she laughed, and from his face you could see that he hadn’t say something funny. “Well, surely now he knows how the Bridgertons are.” you said shrugging slightly keeping your elegant posture. “One of us should go and apologies for her.”

You looked Benedict, he looked you. Both wanted to send the other because neither of you liked to speak with the Queen. “Look your Charming Prince is coming, I must let you to know him.”

“What! No you must stay here and intimidate him! It is what you brothers are made for.” you tried to keep his arm in your hands without looking clumsy, but obviously he was stronger than you.

“Trust me, sister, you can intimidate him perfectly by yourself.” he gave you one last smirk before slipping away among the people leaving you alone. You heard the heels of the Queen approaching, and with still your amused smile you turned around ready to meet them.

The Prince’s eyes were already on you making your cheeks turned into a soft pink. His smile suggested you that he had assist at the scene with your brother, even if he couldn’t hear what you said, and when the Queen spoke briefly about you he wasn’t surprise to know that you were also a Bridgerton. He noticed happily that you were a particular family.

“Miss Y/n Bridgerton, he is Your Highness Prince Friedrich of Prussia.” the cold voice of the Queen interrupted you from staring Prince’s eyes. 

“Your Grace, it’s a pleasure meeting you.” you bowed slowly wanting to remember at the Queen that Daphne wasn’t the only one who could bow in a charming way. 

“Please, my aunt loves the title, but Prince Friedrich is more than enough, Miss Bridgerton.” he smiled kindly at you when you stood up. He bowed too, kissing your hand over your glove charmed by your smile. He had the pleasure to see it long before approaching, when the smile had began more polite and less amused. He saw you interacting with your brother in such a natural way that he couldn’t not think that you were the only two people who didn’t hide behind a mask.

“I hope you enjoied the journey, Prince Friedrich. I heard that the English Channel is not always so kind with its sailors.” he appreciated that you didn’t say the same questions or senteces of the others Ladies he met, but instead you chose to make an indirect question adding a true fact and leaving him the word.

“I was lucky, the sky was blue and the sun had welcomed us with the warmest of its rays.” you were happy to hear the German accent in his voice while he kept speaking, like you had imagined since the news of his arrival. 

“I am happy to hear that, and I wanted to apologies for the behaviour of my sister, few moments ago. We are a very...vivacious family.” you giggled at your last words thinking about all the time that you and your brothers had made your mother loosing her mind. 

He could not hold a laugh at your comment, knowing perfectly what meant growing up in a big family with people you love. He ignored Queen’s eyes on him that was waiting to walk away; he just staied still admiring your features while with still your smile on you were looking the couples who were ending their dance.

“Have you had already the pleasure to dance, Lady Y/n?” he asked curious letting the Queen understand that he hadn’t the intention of going away. 

“Unfortunately, not yet. I have arrived few minutes before you, Your Grace, and your arrival had shadowed my presence here, I think.” you raised an eyebrow turning your gaze on him. Benedict was right, you could intimidate people by your own and you had so much fun doing that, because it was beautiful seeing the men taken back by a woman. 

He raised his hand offering it to you with shining eyes and a little bow. “Your beauty is too shiny to be shadowed; I beg you to let me repair at what I have done. Perhaps with a dance?” 

The Queen looked him shocked while your smile grew bigger. “I do not think it will be appropriate, Friedrich.” she said worried.

“It is my fault that this beautiful Lady has not been invited to dance yet, I cannot let to this injustice to happen.” he felt his heart lighter when he heard your laugh. 

You took his hand happily to have the power of doing something that the Queen didn’t approve; she had made the mistake to understimate you just because your vitality that a Lady shouldn’ t have, and now you were taking her nephew away under he own nose. “I suppose a dance can repair your damage, Prince Friedrich.”

You hadn’t realize that you were actually to be about to dance with a Prince, untile all the eyes were on you. You two were let alone at the centre of the room, standing in front of each other without looking away from the other’s eyes. Whispers could be heard around you, Benedict was looking the face of the mothers around him to make a laugh while Daphne was positively surprised with beside her Simon had a huge grin on his face. 

After bowing you stepped closer to let one of his hand resting on your hips while with the other he took yours. You rested your left hand on his shoulder and the music began covering the whispers and leaving the only two of you to dance.

“It is a honor being your first dance of tonight, Lady Bridgerton.” he said breaking your silent. 

“You flatter me, Your Grace.” he spinned you taking all the space you wanted since no one had yet joined you. “Although you stil haven’t meet my all family; you would find yourself less honored and more...longing to walk away and never meet us again.”

With your surprise he laughed lowering his head a little looking the ground for a moment. He felt attracted by your humor; it made him feel more relaxed and it brought him memories about his childhood with his cousins with who he was used play and laugh every day.

“I find it quite impossible, my Lady, but tell me something about you...I heard that you are a traveller; which place has the unattainable fortune to own your heart?” his voice was smooth and sweet but still with the firmness of a Prince. You wondered if the choice of wearing the same blue of his eyes had been his own choice or it was you that sometime observed too much.

“I’ve been in few places with my brother, Lord Colin Bridgerton, but I hope to see more.” he nodded understanding the feeling. “I found Scotland quite lovely, but if I have to be honest, my heart would like to take a little farm in Ireland and settle there among the green of its beautiful landscape.” 

More you two spoke, and more he noticed how much things you had in common. You hadn’t problem to talk sincerely, you knew he was out of your league; in that room there were few Ladies who could be a future princess, and you were very aware that one of them was your sister. However the feeling that Cupid was in front of you in all his beauty was still in your chest; you couldn’t even decide which part of him you liked the most, because every thing of him matched perfectly together; his warm smile suggested the humility he had, his big blue eyes seemed belong to a baby who looked everywhere with wonder and his curly blonde hair looked like freshly cut wheat. 

When the music ended you bowed at each other. He took your and kissing it without taking his eyes away from yours. Were butterflies those in your stomach? “You put me in a difficult position, my Lady. I cannot compliment with a part of you without mention the others.” his smile and his voice made you blush while he was still holding your hand. “You are a wonderful woman, Miss Y/n, and a divine dancer. I shall look to meet you again, if you allow me.”

You felt your heart beat fast in your chest, almost as it wanted to speak with Prince Friedrich personally. “Your words enchant me, Prince Friedrich. I would be more than delighted to talk with you again, maybe next time you could tell me about Prussia and suggest some place to visit for my next journey.”

“I will be not surprise when you will drag Colin in Prussia at your next travel.” you heard Benedict’s voice in your head laughing at you, but the Prince’s presence was like a drug to you.

“I will look forward to hear about your journeys, my Lady.” with a last smile, you walked in different directions still with all the eyes on you. 

He found himself looking for you around the room more often than he were conscious; he learned fast that the gentleman with who you danced few times was Lord de Bethencourt, a French Lord who since your first debut had expresses the interest he had toward you in the most romantic way. He saw you two laughing, speaking and dancing with a chemistry he envied. When you would laugh due something that Lord de Bethencourt had whispered in your ear, he would ask himself what he had said to you and the same when you were commited in a deep conversation about God knew what.

The Queen had tried to make him dance with Daphne, but he wasn’t blind and he could see the affection that your sister shared with Simon, but at some point of the night Lady Cressida fainted in his arms catching the attention of everyone. 

You saw with a smile that the two of them made a beautiful couple, and Cressida had always radiated royalty in everything she did. To be honest, it didn’t touch you at all; you had enjoied Prince’s company and the dance had made many gentlemen coming to you and ask for a dance so who you were to complain?

When you fell asleep you could not ask yourself why Cupid had decided to reveal his face at you so soon when with Psyche he tried to hide it everytime. You didn’t know there could exist such beauty in just a person, and still the Prince where there, in your same city and you had shared a dance together. You wished that just like Psyche, Cupid would come to you and take you away to live together, but this time Cupid was a Prince, and as a Prince he could not avoid his duty.

Dear readers,

I know you were waiting the edition of the morning, and after what happened last night at the ball I can understand you.

If you weren’t at the ball then you didn’t assist at the rivelation of the season. We all know that Daphne Bridgerton had been declared the Diamond of the season by the Queen herself, but it was another Lady who danced with Your Highness of Prussia. Indeed, Prince Friedrich and Lady Y/n Bridgerton had shared their first dance together under the disapproval look of the Queen.

Surely Lady Violet must be excited to have under her roof a future Duchess and a future Princess, and if you think that I am too fast to judge then you didn’t see Miss Y/n and Prince Friedrich at all. But Prince Friedrich must had seen that Lady Bridgerton had already a suitor, the handsome gentleman Lord de Bethencourt, I am sure we all are curious to see what will happen.

However the Prince seemed to have taked the attention of another suitable Lady, Miss Cressida Cowper. The young woman had fainted between the arm of Prince Friedrich and he helped her like a real Charming Prince, but if your eyes had fallen on Lady Y/n for a moment you could have seen that she was smiling, and not a polite one, but a true smile! 

Is it possible that the charm of our Charming Prince didn’t charmed her at all? Maybe her heart is already living in France, but I would not be surprise if in few day the Prussia will reclaim her heart as its own.

If something happen, I will be the first to tell you.

Yours, Lady Whistledown. 

“How was the Prince? Did he invite you at palace? Was he like the princes of the farytails?!” the shrill voice of Hyacinth filled the room in the exact moment you entered in the Living room the next morning.

“Let your sister breath, Hyacinth. Come sweatheart, sit here and tell us about last night.” your mother said making you sit on the couch beside her excited.

“Mama, I stop you here before you start to hyperventilate. We shared only one dance and it was beacuse I almost forced him to do so.” you giggled at the lovely memory of your dance.

“Although, he didn’t seem forced. I would say he quite enjoied your dance.” Benedict said slyly and you launched a pillow at him hitting his face.

“You were beautiful together, Y/n. Everyone couldn’t stop looking at you during the ball.” Daphne said smiling sweetly making you blush.

“Stop! All of you. It was only a dance and-”

You were interrupted by three servants who entered in the room with three baskets of flowers. “A gift for Miss Y/n Bridgerton.” 

They put the flowers on the table leaving all of you Bridgerton looking at each other curious. It wasn’t unusual that someone sent you gifts, but no one had ever sent you so many flowers; usually it was enough just one baskets or few rose. 

“Whoever send these must want your hand badly.” joked Colin while you walked toward the table. 

“Maybe he will, look at this Lilies!” Lilies were your favourite flower, indeed there was a spot in the park full of them where you were used to go whenever you wanted to relax alone.

You took the ticket that was on the second baskets seeing that there was your name written with an elegant handwriting. “Make sure to read it out loud, sister.” said Anthony with a smirk.

“Lovely Miss Y/n,

the memory of our dance took the charge of my thoughs and the time we shared together seems a dream. My heart wish to hear more about your journeys and dreams, I hope my presence in the park these days will be accepted from you and perhaps we could talk again.

In the meantime, I thought about what you said of living in a little farm in Ireland, and I could not resist but imagine that these flowers would be perfect in your future garden.

Sincerely, Prince Friedrich.”  your voice had become exciter after the first part of the letter, and now you didn’t know if it was a dream or it was all real.

“I didn’t know that in Prussia had such low standard:” Benedict.

“Our sister will become a Princess!” Colin.

“Yes, a Princess who will make all the Prussia crazy due her talkativeness .” Anthony. 

“Y/n Bridgerton! Did you tell at the Prince that you want to live in a farm?!” Lady Violet yelled shocked by her own daughter actions.

“In my defence he liked it!” you said trying to hold a laugh. “And then...come on! Who would ever imagine that he was truly listening me?! I though, and still thing, that he is out of my league so why not being sincere?”

“Well, I would dare to say that he was truly listenting you.” said Benedict giggling earning a death glare from you.

“It is his fault!” you pointed at him looking your mother.

“Why mine?” he stood up suddenly confused.

“He left me alone when the Prince was approaching! I was unsupervised, and you know what happen when I am unsupervised.” you hoped that it would be a good excuse, but the look of your mother said otherwise. “Alright, when I’ll see him again I say that I’ve lied, my real dream is living in a huge castle full of jewerly, rules and boring stuff. Because we all know how much I love the boring stuff.” 

Your drammatic tone made everyone laugh until the arrival of the first suitors for you and your sister. 

You tried to stay focus on what they were saying, but every now and then your eyes felt on the baskets of flowers that were on the table worring about what the Prince was doing. Had he visisted some Lady? Maybe Lady Cressida? Or maybe he sent flowers to all the Ladies with who he had danced the last night...you wouldn’t be surprise since you had seen how much was big his kindness.  

Waking up with the sight of his flowers in your bedroom made your next mornings starting in a good way. That afternoon you would meet Lord de Bethencourt at the park, and in a hidden place of your mind you were hoping to see Prince Friedrich there. 

You had the beautiful idea to taking a walk with the horses so you had the opportunity to put on your new dark blue suit. The clouds were covering the sun colouring the air around you of a light shade of grey, indeed there weren’t many people out letting you two to enjoy the company of each other. 

“And what was the thing that inspired a lovely lady like you to learn French?” Lord de Bethencourt asked you curious.

“You see, my Lord, with my passion for travelling the desire to know other languages came by itself. It wasn’t easy at the beginning, I must say, but I find it so romantic that I could not stay in my ignorance.” you looked over his shoulder for a moment seeing a blonde haired head sitting not far away from you.

“There is so many places in France that would be lucky to being seen by you, my Lady. Perhaps the next time shall I talk about them?” he asked taking firmly his reins ready to return at his home.

“You must, Lord de Bethencourt. I wish you a good night.” you smiled at him and after having wished you a good day he kicked his horse making him trot away. 

Could you go home and relax with a good book and warm blankets? Yes.

Did you wanted to do so? Absolutely no.

So in a very natural way you turned around your horse and went towards the blonde haired man you had seen few moments before. The park was huge so you started to look around enjoing the green that was around you and looking the swan that was in the middle of the little lake at your right.

Few metres before the man, who you saw was sitting at a table admiring the lake, some guards stopped you and your waitress from going further. “I am sorry Miss, but you cannot get closer.” 

“Then would you be so kind to guide me at home toward another street?” you replied with fake concern. You knew very well that there were plenty other street that would bring you home, but you wanted some fun earning his attention. 

“I am really sorry Miss, but I cannot let you go further.” he looked truly sorry, but most of the men forget that a woman has more power than what they believe; indeed it was you favourite hobby making the Lords apologies with you for whatever and whenever you want.

“Then let me adjust this problem.” you cleared your throat holding the smirk that fought so hard to be free. “Your Highness! When you said that you would like to stay in my company again I didn’t expect that you would forbid me to go home.” 

Prince Friedrich turned around looking surprised at you. The guard’s mouth felt open while you kept your sweet smile on your face rather amused by all the situation. 

“Lady Bridgerton, for a moment I though to have seen a mirage...tell me, my guard had been unkind to you?” he walked closer to you, but you didn’t get off the horse kepping your back straight and looking him up down.

“There is not enough sun for a mirage, Prince Friedrich; unfortunately it’s just me.” you let out a giggle and a smile appeared on his face. “Although, no you guard didn’t do anything out of your orders, but I was unhappy when I found out that I couldn’t get back at home...”

“Your unhappiness bring me pain, my Lady.” he brought a hand to his heart bowing respecfully. “I cannot say that I am not pleased to see you again. Can I apologies for this misunderstanding wìth a cup of tea?” 

You smiled with pride seeing that you made the Prince asking you sorry twice without even commit yourself too much. You looked behind you your brother Anthony that had been your silent chaperon for all day and after he gave you a nod smirking you turned your attention to the Prince again.

“How could I say no after the wonderful flowers you sent me?” he offered happily his hand to help you to get off the horse and you accepted it gladly. When a guard approached to take your horse you looked at him carefully. “Be careful with her. She is not fond with men due her...brutal childhood, so be kind and treat her as a Princess, because she is, right Cassidy?” you caressed your horse affectionately before giving the reins at the guard. 

“What happened to Cassidy?” the Prince asked curious bringing you at the table and holding the chair for you.

“She was born to race. Her first owners used to do illegal races and it wasn’t unusual for them to beat her to make her run faster. My brother, Lord Anthony Bridgerton, found them and all the horses had been selt, but she was frightened by everything; so an afternoon I decided to visit Cassidy and day by day I took care of her.” you said lost in your memories with a little smile on your lips. 

“She had been very lucky to find you, Miss Y/n, and do you like riding often?” he offered you a cup of tea that you took thanking him kindly.

“Oh yes. Mostly when I want to go in the countryside and take a walk among the green. I find horses beautiful animals.” 

“I agree. So, I hope I had helped your immagination with those flowers.” he smiled with a little blush on his cheeks. If Cupid owned already such beauty, why he must own even the most melodious voice that your ear had ever heard? Wasn’t enought enchanting your eyes? What did he want from a normal human like you? Why didn’t he fly to his Psyche and let you live happily?

“These flowers made me dreams more vividly about my future garden, Prince Friedrich, and your words had been poesy for my eyes.” he must had done something to your tea, because with few words you were drunk of his presence. You didn’t dare to allow you to dream about a future with him, because you knew he was a dream to live day by day so that when you would wake up you would not have any regrets. 

You talked and talked; he made you laugh and your spontaneity made him attracted to you even more. He watched your smile, your eyes, your pink cheeks and the beautiful light that turned on everytime you talked about something you loved. He found out that weren’t you only a strong woman, but you were also acculturated, clever and smart; this made him liking even more your power to stand up for yourself even with men. 

“But if I will go to France, the first thing I desire to see if the sculpture of Cupid and Psyche, their story affascinate my since I was a kid.” you ended your speech about the place you wished to go in the future.

“Such a beautiful love story. I read it long time ago and still it is in my head so vividly that I could recite some part of it.” he agreed completely absorbed in your conversation.

“Indeed, I dare to say that is one of my favourite love story ever. He, the god of love find love in a human girl due his own mistake, and to protect her and himself from the mother he decided to hide his face. I mean, yes his love started because one of his own arrow hit him, by I think it was destiny.” your voice was music to his ear, he wished to be able to listen you all day.

For a moment he seemed to see cupid behind you with his arrow pointed at his chest and when his eyes felt on your face again he could feel a strange feeling in his chest, as if Cupid’s arrow had hitten him for real. 

SEQUEL:  Jealousy and The Sweet Taste Of Sin 

[julie-thefatones]

THERES NO ONE LIKE YOU || BILLY HARGROVE X READER||

A/N : I just wanted to thank @i-thought-i-knew-what-love-was​ for helping me with the idea of this story for I was having a block lol!!! Also im sorry if i didnt catch all the typos or mistakes, i tried my best lol! anyway i hope you guys like it :)

WORD COUNT: 5290

WARNINGS: 16+ (Kissing, Rude Language)

It was Summer 1985, it was unbelievably hot in Hawkins, IN this time of year.. but this year was different, it was hotter than any summer before that I could remember, so that only meant one thing.......Everybody and I do mean everybody was at the public pool. It was the only public pool in town and no on really thought or maybe they just didn't bother to get a pool of their own.

As I made my way to the pool just like every other day this summer, I felt different. I wasn't sure if it was because I did my hair different than usual, Instead of my usual half up half down action, I decided to do it to the side and crimped, it made me feel like I was in Teen Beat under the 'Your New Summer Doo' Section.... Or maybe it was my new swim suit that was all the rage this year with the coolest Neon Yellow and Hot Pink color block, sure it made me feel somewhat like a glass of strawberry lemonade but if i'm gonna be a glass of strawberry lemonade i'm gonna be the hottest glass of strawberry lemonade there is.

Well whatever, Im not going to let this strange feeling ruin my day at the pool, no way, nothing is going to ruin this day unless its an overly packed swimming pool with no room to breath...... as I walked through the gates of the public pool, I looked around, took a deep breath, and sighed "Ruined" I whispered to my self while closing my eyes. I walked over to my usual pool chair dodging kids left and right as i made my way, blocking out the parents yelling across the way for 'TOMMY STOP PUSHING YOUR BROTHER UNDERWATER!' I mean you think Tommy would know by now that when he tries to drown his younger brother, he's going to get yelled at. Taking deep breaths the whole way to my chair trying not to let anyone get to me, I laid my towel down and took my seat. I laid there for maybe 10 minutes before i heard Mrs. Fowl yelling once more "TOMMY STO-" but this time she was cut off *WHISTLE NOISE* "TOMMY! STOP DROWNING YOUR TWARP OF A BROTHER BEFORE I DROWN YOU! YOU KNOW THE RULES! YOU LITTLE DOUCHE" I heard a male voice call across the pool, I tilted my sunglasses down to see what was going down, first I saw Mrs. Fowl rolling her eyes at what the mysterious male just yelled, I scanned over to discover who this mysterious male was... He made his way down the side of the pool greeting a group of middle aged women who gawked at him. He was slowly getting closer to the Life Guard tower and thats when I realized who it was that was calling orders and greeting people across the pool...... It was Billy Hargrove, the new, but well known bad boy of Hawkins High School. Girls went Ga Ga over him, he was hot sure but I never really understood why these girls threw themselves at him, he was just a guy, I mean not to mention he was a major douche, didn't show respect to anyone he talked too, also I couldn't stand how loud his freaking car is!! like dude, not necessary, especially not necessary when its 3:00 in the morning!! did i mention he lived down the street from me. I was deep in thought, not realizing i was still staring at Billy, but now he was sitting at the top of the Life Guard tower, I didn't realize i was staring until he stared back at me and winked "Oh my gosh" I whispered to my self in embarrassment, I rolled over pushing my sunglasses back up feeling completely mortified, Maybe he would forget about it... I mean he has girls staring at him all the time.

I laid there for about 2 hours, forgetting about my slight interaction with Billy across the pool. I didn't feel bothered the last 2 hours until i felt a large presence blocking my sun, with out opening my eyes for not wanting to get out of my zen "Hey! Sasquatch, who ever you are, your mama wasn't a glass maker, so if you would kindly move out of my sun I would deeply appreciate it, thanks" I heard a cocky chuckle above me, as much i didn't want to, I opened my eyes, and there he was right above me... Billy "Ya know, its not polite to call people Sasquatch... and for your information my mom could be a glass maker... so you making assumptions .. well thats just plain rude" He said, licking his lips before continuing "But, i'm a very forgiving person so i guess ill let it pass" He said with a big cocky smile, I couldn't help but feel flustered, even though he was being so overly confident and cocky... he just had this charm about him ... but i wouldn't let him know that, I rolled my eyes in response and kept a straight expression laying still "Oh, Hey Billy.... I didn't know you worked here" I said with as little emotion as I could express "Now, I don't think that is true Y/N, I saw you checking me out earlier" He said with the same cocky but teasing tone, I scoffed "Oh please Hargrove, you wish i was checking you out" I felt him shift behind me before he answered "Ya know, usually when someone is just staring at another .. it means your checking them out" After hearing his words I tilted my sunglasses down to look at him "You flatter yourself sir" I said with a teasing smile, he scoffed and looked off and then back to me "hmmm alright Y/L/N, well my mistake" I rolled my eyes once more and pushed my glasses back up "Alright, you've blocked my sun for long enough, now move along Sasquatch" I said, back to no emotion, He chuckled "Yes Ma'am, I would hate to deprive you of your sun" He winked before walking away. I couldn't help but stare after him as he walked away..... I quickly looked away, realizing what i was doing ... What was I doing... I don't like Billy.

The next day rolled around, and I was feeling slightly more excited then usual to get ready to go to the pool. I know what you're thinking... NOO it had nothing to do with Billy... I just was excited to cool off in the water...... and lay in the sun again.... and maaaybe it had something to do with Billy, but its nothing big... I just like to give him a hard time, that is all... that. is. all.

I walked into the pool area, same as yesterday, but today I wore my red swimsuit that had little frills on the straps with a red Scrunchy to match. I laid my towel down, again like yesterday and just like clockwork I heard the same male voice as yesterday "TOMMY! DO WE HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS EVERYDAY! NOW STOP DROWNING YOUR BROTHER SO I DON'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHERS TERRIBLY SHRILL VOICE YELL AT YOU TO STOP! IT IS LITERALLY THE WORST PART OF MY SHIFT!" I looked behind me to see Billy finish walking to his place at the Life Guard tower, I couldn't help but chuckle at Mrs. Fowl's face, mouth wide open in offense to what Billy said.

The afternoon flew by and Billy paid absolutely no mind to me, he just say on his tower and every now and then yelled at Tommy.... But other than that.. nothing. I Hate to say i was slightly disappointed, yesterdays banter was not only fun but the most entertainment i have had this summer, all my friends were away for the summer leaving me alone ... hence the coming to the pool by my self everyday. The past week went by the exact same way, I would show up to the pool looking the cutest i can look interchanging the 3 swimsuits i own, and the 3 different hairstyles i knew how to do. But nothing, he would yell at Tommy, sit and do nothing... except when he would flirt with bimbo mcBarbie or wanna be Farrah Fawcett, it made me have a pit in my stomach... not that i was jealous... absolutely not, I was just bored.

The next day, I showed up, the same way as I had been for the past week.. except today i had no expectations except to mock the plastic Phoebe Cates wanna be that would flirt with Billy endlessly today. Today I wore my red swimsuit once again, with the same matching scrunchy... I sat and prepared to be disappointed again. I sat for about 20 mins, and just like a week before.... someone was blocking my sun, I couldn't help but grow a small smile on my face, I tilted my sunglasses and looked right at mr. Billy Hargrove with his cocky smile in front of me "You're blocking my sun Sasquatch" I said with a teasing tone "Oh my apologies ma'am" he said right before walking away. Really that was it .... no banter nothing.... I sighed aloud before sinking into my chair, what was gonna do .... and as I heard Mrs. Fowl and Billy yell at Tommy, thats when it came to me.

I approached the edge of the swimming pool, took a deep breath, was i really gonna do this... just to get Billy's attention? I rolled my eyes at myself, before stepping into the pool. I carefully walked closer and closer to the middle of the pool, looking around at all the kids around me, they looked like they were having so much fun. I started to rethink my plan, I didn't want to scare any of these kids just to get a stupid guys attention... a guy i don't even like! 'this is so stupid' i thought to my self before starting my way out of the pool, but thats when i heard the most annoying high pitched laugh coming from the Life Guard tower, and thats when I saw the Bimbo Phoebe Cates wanna be standing beneath Billy at the tower, and with out thinking I went for it. I started flailing and putting my own head under water to mimic drowning "HELP! HELP!" I screamed each time i came up for breath "HELP! I NEED HELP" I continued to scream, Thats when Billy just casually climbed down from his tower like nothing was going on and walked at a normal pace over to the edge of the pool before getting in. Billy swam effortlessly to me, and before i even knew it he swooped me up into his arms bridal style, carrying me out like i weighed nothing.... as we were exiting the pool, I had to admit, the way the water dripped off his hair and down his chest, Billy Hargrove was insanely hot.... I couldn't help but just stare at him, his face was not only hot, but it was .... Beautiful .. i mean his complexion was flawless... his eyes were such a beautiful shade of blue, and his smile was brilliantly white.. and thats when i realized he was smiling at me, I slightly shook my head in order to leave the trance i was in "Wow Y/L/N, that was quite the scene you made there.... you alright?" Billy asked in his teasingly cocky tone he always had, with his big smile, I rolled my eyes "Gosh Hargrove, please excuse me for making a scene by almost dying .... how rude of me!" I scoffed, he licked his lips with a chuckle "Oh almost dying? My bad ma lady, you did in fact almost die" he glanced at the pool and then back at me "In the 4ft end of the pool" he said with a huge smile looking straight into my eyes, with embarrassment i glanced at the pool and back at him "I was not in the 4ft end! i was at least AT LEAST!!! in the 8ft end!" I exclaimed in defense to myself, I hated lying, not only did it make me feel terrible but i was bad at it!! I noticed Billy was still holding me, and I only noticed because Bimbo Barbie and Wanna be Plastic Phoebe Cates was staring at me with murder in their eyes. Billys grip tightened around my thighs and arm as he effortlessly held me "Y/N, I had to train in this pool for 5 hours everyday for week before the pool opened to get this job..... I think i know where the 4ft end is" He said to me with confidence, I was at a loss for words, I had no comeback except for "Well, they must have painted to numbers wrong on the pool" Great one Y/N, stellar... they totally painted the numbers wrong on the pool, especially since you stood just fine where you 'Drowned' .. it was totally the 8ft end ... I wanted to face palm so badly but i didn't wanna give myself away that easy, my thought was interrupted by Billys laughter "Ya know! I bet they did paint them wrong.... My bad Y/N" He said in a sarcastic tone, I rolled my eyes in response "Well Billy, Thank you for helping me ... now if you would please let me down" I said, even though I didn't mind him holding me.... it sure was fun pissing The bimbo twins off. He smiled and nodded his head and gently let me down "It was a pleasure saving you Y/N" and as he started to walk away he turned back to me "Ya know, i teach swim lessons... I could teach you a couple things" He said with a wink "Yeah! maybe! Don't want to drown again" I said while wringing out my hair "Good! wouldn't want your fellow swim team to know that you forgot how to swim over the summer" He said winking before walking away "Yeah!!! that would be embarrassing!!!" I called after him, once he was not looking my face hit the palm

of

my

hand so hard it's like they were magnets.

Before leaving, with all my pride gone anyway, I walked up to Billy "Hey!" I exclaimed up in order for him to hear me up there on the tower, He looked down at me and smiled "Oh Hey Y/N!" He responded "Billy, did you mean it?" he squinted his eyes like he couldn't understand me, I sighed "Did you mean it!!" I exclaimed a little louder, but he still squinted with confusion "Ya know! why don't you just climb up here and tell me" He exclaimed to me, I sighed and looked around "Why don't you come down here!!" I yelled back, and again he squinted, I rolled my eyes and started up the ladder "Was this really necessary Hargrove, I see you talking to the barbie twins all the time with out having them climb up here" I said exasperated, he just smiled propping him self up on his chair "Yes, but you see... Im not actually listening to them.. its the same thing every time" he says before he start " 'Oh Billy, you look so strong, please take me out for a ride sometime' 'Oh Billy, I bet you could bench me with ease' " He said in his best girl impression and then went back to his normal voice "and yadda yadda yadda, but you! if you're talking to me... it must be something worth hearing! so how can i help ya Y/N?" I couldn't help but chuckle "well, i was just wondering if you meant it, when you said you would give me swimming lessons?" I said, looking down at my hands that were clasping the edge of Billys seat to keep my balance, I could feel his eyes on me, but i refused to look at him until i heard his answer "Well, That depends.... are you asking?" He asked, with pure joy in his voice out of amusement, I mustered up my confidence to look at him "Maybe!" I said, he was smiling the largest, cockiest smile, placing his whistle in between his teeth, not breaking his eye contact with me and then *WHISTLE NOISE* "TOMMY! IM GONNA COUNT TO 3 AND IF YOU ARE STILL BEING A LITTLE DICK IM GONNA COME DOWN THERE AND TIE YOU TO A TREE ..... BET YOU WOULDN'T LIKE THAT KID!" He yelled, still not breaking contact , I again couldn't help but chuckle, he opened his mouth so slightly so that the whistle would just fall out with ease, his mouth still open he grew a sheepish smile "Yeah Y/N, It would be an honor to teach you to swim" I smiled "Good!! thanks" I said as I started to climb down the ladder "Hows 10pm tonight?" He said, and I popped back up to level with him to make sure i heard him right "Huh?" he chuckled "I said how about 10pm tonight?" I just sat there for a minute, no knowing what to say.... I would have to sneak out in order to do that but before i could stop myself i said "Yeah sure!! that works for me" He smiled even bigger "Great!! Ill see ya then Y/L/N" I started down the Ladder again "Great!!!" I exclaimed.

I ran home and did the usual, eat dinner with the family, go to my room and read whatever book i'm reading until my parents go to bed, in which i usually go to bed or sneak down to watch some TV to myself, but not tonight.... tonight i was sneaking out.... I've never snuck out before ... let alone sneak out to be with a boy.... and not only that .. the town bad boy ..... ugh! what am I doing.

As soon as I heard my parents bedroom door shut I finished prepping my hair and slipped on some shorts over my swimsuit. I ran down the stairs and snuck out the door, making sure to close the door very slowly in order to not make a sound, clicking it shut ever so slightly, as soon as it shut i sighed in relief and turned running into someone behind me causing me to scream "WHAAAA!" I screamed "Geesh Y/N!! Ya want the whole neighborhood let alone your parents to know your sneaking out" I heard Billy whisper to me as he clasped his hand over my mouth, I let out a huge breath happy it was just him and not some criminal, I licked his hand to get it off my face, he laughed before removing his hand "Excuse me Hargrove, you almost gave me a heart attack" he chuckled "You know this is your second brush with death today, I don't know if me being around you is good for your health" I smiled to myself, Oh no... You definitely are not Hargrove. I looked at him and then realized "Hey!! why are you here, i thought i was meeting you at the pool?" we continued to walk down to his car "You really think i was going to let you walk to the pool, by your self, at 10:00 at night" he said as he held the passenger door to his car open, I rolled my eyes "Im not getting in there" I said crossing my arms, he scrunched his eyebrows confused "and why not?" he asked "Because i hate your car" I said without thinking, he laughed, now leaning on his open car door, looking at me with an amused smile "Oh really? You hate my car!!! you have never been in my car, my car is offended" He said teasingly, I rolled my eyes once more "Why do you hate my car?" He asked, I sighed a big sigh "Because!! it's entirely too loud, which usually wouldn't bother me, but when its waking me up at 3:00 in the morning and i am having a really good dream... yeah that would make me hate a car." He just looks at me with disbelief before bursting into laughter "Well, we're gonna change that" he said winking at me and opening the door wider "Now please get in the car" he said gesturing to the car "No! i'm not getting in the car." I stood my ground, I was not getting in that- My thought was interrupted by strong arms scooping me off the ground and before i knew it I was in Billys arms "Billy!! what are -" he set me in the passenger seat of his car and closed the door before i could finish my sentence. Billy effortlessly swung into the driver seat and within seconds we were zooming down the street, in usual Billy fashion... I had to admit, it was exhilarating going this fast with the music blasting this loud I couldn't help but belt the lyrics along "THERES NO ONE LIKE YOUUUUUU! I CANT WAIT FOR THE NIGHTS WITH YOUU! I IMAGINE THE THE THINGS WE DOOO" I belted, Billy smiled at me in awe, I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks and Billy started belting the song, hitting his steering wheel to the music, nudging me with his elbow to join back in, so I did. We belted songs all the way to the swimming pool, it wasn't a super long drive... but it was probably the most fun I have ever had in a 5 minute drive. As we pulled up to the pool Billy turned off the car and within seconds he was at my door helping me out. "Soooo are you even allowed to be here this late?" I asked looking around for security cameras, Billy chuckled "ummm thats up for debate, but for tonight.. yes" I nodded along "Alright.... why tonight but not other nights? did you bribe the security camera guy" Billy looked at me as he unlocked the gate to the pool "Not exactly" He said with one of his famous Billy winks, I have received more winks from billy in the last 12 hours then i have received in the past year its self.... but I didn't mind. He finally got the lock undone and we walked in, out of habit i started walking toward my usual chair "Ha, where you going Y/L/N?" I stopped in my tracks and realized what i was doing, I started back to Billy, but being flustered I tripped over my feet causing me to fall right into Billys arms, I couldn't tell if he moved to come catch me or I was just falling in

his

direction and caught me... either way, I liked the feeling of his arms around me "You know, you're a real dork" He said with a chuckle, and in a moment we just stared into each others eyes, until me being me had to sneeze, I faced away and sneezed into my arm, Billy helped me gain my balance before letting go of me "ehem.... well i'm gonna get the pool cover off and then we will start the lesson" I watch as Billy hastily got the cover off, I felt bad letting him do it alone, so I started helping him, he looked up at me and laughed "What are you doing Y/L/N" He said with a chuckle, I smiled at him "What!!! I wasn't gonna let you do it by yourself!!" He just smiled at me and then shrugged as we continued to get the cover off. We were now standing in the middle of the pool "Okay, Y/L/N, let start with basics.... Floating" He said looking at me as if to say 'Come closer' "Y/N You're gonna have to get closer to me" he said smiling grabbing my hand a pulling me closer to him, I looked up and our face's weren't even an inch away with how close we were, I could feel his breath on my cheek "you're gonna want to get on your back" He said in almost a whisper, not moving from how close he was to my face, I blinked a slightly turned to look into his eyes "Excuse me?" he chuckled "To float.... you're going to want to get on your back to float" He said smiling, all of a sudden his face was gone away from mine and i felt one hand on my legs and the other on my lower back as lifted up my Legs and balanced me out ... I was now on my back floating in a pool with Billy Hargrove "Alright, Im gonna let go" he said, he actually sounded kind of nervous, which i have never heard from Billy, as i felt his hands start to move away from me I couldn't help stop my self "No" I whispered, not wanting his hands to leave from me, he smiled and moved closer "If i don't let go, you wont learn" He said, i felt his fingers lightly graze my lower back "Well, I also wont learn if you leave me on my own too soon... ill sink" I said trying have a teasing tone but it was slightly ruined by my heavy breathing, i couldn't help i was filled with all kinds of emotions right now. Billy leaned down closer to my face "Thats true, good job" He said with just as heavy breathing as me. We focused on my floating for about 15 minutes before we went on to other things, we swam all together for about an hour or so until it started to get pretty cold, I could help but shiver "You need to stop Y/L/N?" Billy asked making his way back over to me "Im just a little cold, i'm okay though" I said through chattered teeth, he chuckled and ducked lower in the water and came over to me the rest of the way "C'mon, get down here" He said pushing my shoulder so that I would be in the water as deep as him, he moved closer where his arms were now around mine, and once again our faces weren't even an inch apart "better?" he whispered, all I could do was nod my head, I really was getting warmer.... "You smell good" I said, Did i really just say that...... 'you smell good' ? really??? ugh! ... Billy laughed "Thank you, I take pride in that." he said, moving a little bit closer "As you should, smelling good is something you should take pride in" man i am one with the words, i'm surprised he is even still here, with my stellar flirting..... A week ago I didn't even like looking in Billys direction, and now..... Now i wanted nothing more then to feel him closer not only physically but personally... He was a lot different than i thought he would be. I felt him start to lean in closer to my face, I didn't know why but i back away, which made me really mad at myself.... why did I do that "Im sorry I-" as he apologized I moved back to where I was and closer, inviting him to continue what he was gonna do, he smiled and then moved in, before i knew it his lips were on mine with out thinking I started moving my lips with his, our motion so fluid, he was good at this, his hands were now on my back moving me closer, and there we were ... me and Billy Hargrove.. making out in the middle of Hawkins Public

Pool at

11:45 at night. We both pulled away by the sight of lights passing down the street, cautious of getting caught, we both looked back at each other and laughed "You're good at that" I said catching my breath, once again feeling the blood rush to my cheeks "You're very honest ya know that" he said, rubbing my back now "Ya wanna know something though.... You're good at it too" He said looking down and quickly licking his lips and then looking back up at me "How do you do that?" I asked, he scrunched his brows confused "How do i do what?" I sighed "Get me from hating you to ... to... this! in less than a week" I exclaimed in a slight whisper "Its my super power" he chuckled "Now, c'mon... I better get you home" and before I could blink his hands were off my back and he was effortlessly hopping out of the pool. totally disregarding the stairs, he held his hand out to help me out the same way "I think, Im gonna use the stairs... ya know because ... thats why they are there" I said teasingly, he rolled his eyes "But where is the fun in that" he scoffed as he walked over to the stairs to meet me, and as soon as I reached the top he had me slung over his shoulder "Aaahh!!! Billy, I know that events today may prove other wise, but I do know how to walk on my own" I said in protest "Sure! but what if i let you down and all of a sudden a eagle comes down and swoops you away and i wont be able to stop him" I rolled my eyes at his comment "The likely hood of that happening, is about as good as me winning the lottery 3 times in 2 days" I said still hanging upside down on his shoulder "Well, maybe i just like holding you" and then ladies and gentleman .... butterflies happened... oh boy.

We had a good 5 minute ride back to my house, where he held my hand, in which I tried to protest just to mess with him but inevitably gave in... I like it. When we pulled up, just like before Billy quickly got out of the car and had my door open in second, helping me out and walking me to my door with our fingers interlocked, I started for my door until i felt a tug of Billy pulling me back to him, I knew he was strong, but just one tug i was flying back to him, he had to catch me, in which our faces were once again within millimeters from each other "We gotta stop meeting like this" He said teasingly with his famous smile "I gotta tell you something" I slipped out "I know how to swim and I wasn't really drowning, I pretended to get your attention" I said entirely too fast, he chuckled "I know" I paused at what he said "You know?" I asked confused "Ya know Y/N, You are a terrible liar..... First off no one drowns in the 4ft end of a pool unless your 3, and second we may not have talked too often in school... but that doesn't mean I didn't notice you, You're the captain of the swim team, which is why i brought it up earlier today, so of course you know how to swim... I offered the swim lessons as joke.. and then you came and asked and..... I couldn't be happier you did" He said still holding me, I smiled and did a little excited hop "You noticed me?" I said a little too eager, he chuckled and looked away and then looked back "Theres no one like you Y/L/N" he said right before taking my chin lightly with his fingers and bringing me in for gentle but passionate kiss goodnight.

[truckloadoffrogs]

SamBucky Daddy Kink

It’s after the mess at the airport, after Siberia, after Steve and him broke everyone out of the weird fucking prison in the ocean (?? what the fuck??), that they finally get to breathe in Wakanda. The King gave them guest rooms in the palace, not accepting no for an answer. He kindly gave them an apartment with three bedrooms and a spacious living room and kitchen, one bedroom for Bucky and the other for Steve when he wasn’t off in some other country glaring at politicians. Unfortunately, he gave Wilson the third bedroom.

There wasn’t anything necessarily wrong with Wilson. He was just-- He just bothered Bucky. He got under his skin. Though he seemed to get genuine pleasure out of annoying the ever living fuck out of Bucky, it never seemed to be with malicious intent. He seemed to be testing Bucky, seeing how far he could go before Bucky would snap, but not because he was cruel. It almost seemed like Wilson was doing it for Bucky’s benefit, not his, like Wilson was showing Bucky that he was fine, he was safe, he wasn’t actually going to snap and go on another murderous rampage because Wilson watched Real Housewives every single day on their couch and refused to change the channel. 

Once Bucky got over that fact, he started to notice other things. Though Wilson didn’t stop teasing Bucky even when Bucky growled at him to quit it, he did stop when Bucky started to curl in on himself, when he got a little quiet and a little scared, waiting for the next baton hit or jab of electricity. Maybe it was Wilson’s own experience with trauma, or maybe it was his inherent goodness, but Bucky appreciated it. Not that he would ever tell him that. 

Wilson also seemed to care for Bucky in ways no one else did. With Steve off in who knows where, struggling to get them pardons, Bucky was adrift in a new country and a new century with new people around him. The other (ex) Avengers seemed wary of him, addressing him in overly polite tones when Bucky ventured outside of the apartment, seeming to wait for the day he reverts back to the Winter Soldier. But Wilson was different. 

He was always there for Bucky when he needed something, but he still teased Bucky and kept him human. He reminded Bucky to eat in the same breath as telling him his flesh arm was beginning to look a little chicken adjacent, he asked Bucky if he wanted to go on a run with him in the morning and get out of the house, and when Bucky mumbled the same “no, thanks” he always did, he grinned in relief and said that he was glad he would be able to run at his own pace for once, but still asked him the next morning and the next morning and the next morning. 

Soon Wilson became Sam, without Bucky even realizing it. Sam had wriggled and shoved his way into Bucky’s life so quickly and smoothly that Bucky had no way of stopping him. Bucky began to respond to Sam’s gentle prodding and encouragements with little smiles and an eye roll, instead of just an eye roll.

One day, when Sam and Bucky were sitting on the couch watching Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, Sam asked Bucky what he would like for dinner and reminded him that he had an appointment with Shuri in the morning. 

Without even thinking, Bucky said, “God, Wilson, you’re such a Da—”.

Many things ran through Bucky’s head as he cut himself off. Shock. Alarm. Panic. Also, what the fuck???

Sam looked away from the television and glanced over at him. “What? I didn’t hear that last part.”

Bucky coughed. “I said 'God, Wilson’.”

Sam hummed, looking speculatively at Bucky. Bucky, still in a state of panic and shock, refused to look away from the screen, hoping and praying Sam would let it go and forget about it. 

Thankfully, some merciful god heard Bucky, and Sam turned back to face the television. 

Bucky let out a relieved breath. What the fuck was that? He almost called Sam Daddy. He’d never called anyone ‘Daddy’ before, not even when he was young and pretty in Brooklyn. He wasn’t some punk, especially now that he was over 250 pounds of muscle and literal metal. If anyone would be called Daddy it would be him. 

He had to admit though, Sam was a Daddy. He takes care of Bucky, he smiles indulgently at Bucky when he stumbles out of his room at the smell of Sam’s cooking in the morning, he bought Bucky’s favorite shampoo before Bucky even knew he was close to running out. He was warm and soft and big. Bucky wanted to curl up in Sam’s lap and feel his strong thighs under him and his gentle arms around him and-- Oh god. Oh no. This wasn’t good. 

If Steve were here he would laugh and laugh and laugh at Bucky’s misfortune. God. Bucky couldn’t believe he went and got a crush on Sam of all people. And not just a crush, oh no. Bucky’s life wasn’t that simple. Bucky wanted to call Sam Daddy. 

Bucky was now hyper-aware of Sam on the couch next to him, still watching the show on the television in front of them. There was maybe three feet between them, both Bucky and Sam leaning on opposite arm rests. Sam’s thick thighs were spread, with his feet flat on the ground, and his arm was stretched out along the back of the couch, big hand almost brushing Bucky’s shoulder. He even sits like a Daddy would, Bucky thought. He looked down at how he was sitting. He was in an almost completely opposite position. One of his legs was curled up under him and the other was up, with his chin resting on his knee and his arms wrapped around it. He looked small and submissive, and Sam looked dominant, like he could grab Bucky’s hair and shove his face down to his dick and make him--

Bucky shivered and uncurled from his position, stretching out his back. Sam looked over at his movement. 

“What did you say you wanted for dinner, Bucky? You didn’t say before,” Sam asked. 

“Uh-- Whatever you want. You pick.” 

Sam looked at Bucky for a beat, before saying, “Okay, baby.”

Bucky looked sharply over at Sam, but Sam wasn’t even looking at him anymore, and gave no sign that he knew what he just said. Though Bucky’s face was calm on the outside (he hoped), inside he was shrieking !!!!! BABY???!?!?!?!

They continued to watch until the end of the episode, Bucky sitting tensely on his side of the couch, and Sam spread out like a whole meal on the other side. When the end credits finished rolling, Bucky dragged a hand through his hair, wincing when it snagged on a tangle. 

“Ow. Shit,” he muttered.

“What’s wrong?”

Bucky looked over at Sam to see him looking back worriedly. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just have to spray some detangler on my hair later.”

“Why don’t I just brush it now? You know it’s easier with another person.” 

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him. “You’ve never wanted to brush my hair before.”

“Yeah? Well first time for everything, right?” Sam asked sweetly. He spread his legs impossibly wider and pointed to the ground between his feet. “Why don’t you get your comb and sit there, and I’ll brush it while we watch a movie?”

Bucky hesitated, before getting up and walking to his room. He had no idea what Sam was playing at, but he wasn’t going to skip out on someone brushing his hair. As he walked back into the living room with his comb in hand, he saw that Sam had moved to the middle of the couch and had turned on a Star Wars movie (Bucky still had no idea which one it was, the order still confused him). 

Bucky slowly walked up to Sam, and shifted back and forth on his feet. Sam smiled encouragingly, and widened his legs again. At his encouragement, Bucky nervously sat between his feet, his back up against the couch and his legs crossed. He reached behind him to hand Sam the comb, and then put his hands back in his lap. 

Sam reached over and started the movie, and then began combing through Bucky’s hair. He started at the ends, and the comb’s bristles gently caressed Bucky’s shoulders and upper back, making him shiver. As Sam slowly made his way up Bucky’s curls, Bucky relaxed more and more, his shoulders slumping and releasing tension he didn’t even know they had. Once Sam’s combing had reached the top of Bucky’s scalp, he was so relaxed he was almost swaying in place, his eyes heavy lidded and vision blurry. 

Gently, Sam pushed Bucky’s head to the side so that his temple was resting on Sam’s knee. 

“There you go, baby.”

Bucky was so out of it he didn’t even recognize what Sam said, he just shivered and slumped more so his cheek pressed against Sam’s thigh. 

Sam hummed appreciatively, and continued combing through Bucky’s curls, even though they were silkier than they had ever been. He continued combing Bucky’s hair until Bucky was fully asleep. 

When Bucky blinked his eyes open again, the television screen was black. He was still leaning on Sam’s thigh, and one of Sam’s hands was gently playing with the ends of his hair, while the other was holding a phone up to his ear.

“Everyone’s fine here, Steve, you don’t have to worry all the time,” Sam was saying, when Bucky finally focused on his voice and not on how comfortable he was on the floor between Sam’s feet. 

Bucky was embarrassed that he fell asleep while Sam was caressing him, like he was some kind of pet, so he started to sit up, but Sam pushed his head back. He continued playing with Bucky’s hair, occasionally threading his hand in at the roots and tugging gently, making tingles spread across Bucky’s scalp and down his neck. 

After a couple minutes, Sam said his goodbyes to Steve and took his hand away from Bucky’s head. Alarmingly, Bucky felt a whine bubble up in his throat, but he stopped it before it could pass his teeth. He still twitched a little though, making Sam glance down at Bucky. 

“Do you want me to keep petting you, Bucky?”

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbled quietly. 

Sam put his hand back in his hair, but instead of petting him, he pulled hard on Bucky’s hair, hard enough that Bucky’s head snapped back. Opening his eyes, Bucky saw Sam’s upside-down face leaning over him, brown eyes glittering. 

“That wasn’t very polite, baby. Where are your manners?”

“...please?” 

“Please what, baby?” 

Bucky’s eyelids fluttered. Was he really going to do this?

“Please, Daddy?” Bucky whispered, “Please keep petting me?”

“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Sam smiled softly. “Of course I’ll keep petting you.”

He gently stroked a thumb down one of Bucky’s cheekbones before tipping his head forward again. Bucky leaned his cheek against Sam’s warm, strong thigh, and closed his eyes as Sam ran gentle, possessive fingers through his hair again. 

--

[snowywrites]

Natsuki x comedic!reader

summary: this was a request from someone on quotev, reader is gender neutral!

word count: 3k

You set your bag down next to your usual chair in the Literature Club room before taking a seat in one of the desk chairs. Stretching your arms up high over your head, you suppress a yawn; being stuck in school for an extra hour or so wasn't all that bad, considering you got to see your friends whom you didn't really share any classes with.

"Ugh. You're never the first one here."

A familiar irritated voice catches your attention, and you turn around in your chair to grin at the one and only Natsuki. Your expression brightens even more when you notice what she's carrying.

"Aww! Are those for us?" You coo, rising quickly from your chair to hurry over to the short pink-haired girl standing by the entrance to the room, examining the tray of muffins in her hands.

Immediately Natsuki recoils away from you, reminding you so much of a stray cat who never received enough love in their life. The thought makes you snort to yourself as she even straight up hisses, "Wh- these aren't for- I mean- they're for the club! But they aren't for, like, you and me!"

You listen to her fierce but confusing denial politely, your smile softening but never completely disappearing. She could get so riled up sometimes over the tiniest things.

Natsuki's blush is apparent, and you're highly tempted to make some sort of joking comment comparing her to something, when she suddenly backs up too far and collides with the doorframe of the classroom behind her. She squeaks, the tray suddenly seeming very shaky in her hands as she struggles to regain her balance to keep herself from toppling to the floor.

Not missing a beat, you reach out to catch the tray just as it slips from her hands, only narrowly managing to avoid watching the muffins spill all over the place.

Feeling pretty proud of yourself for that nice save, you hold the tray up triumphantly with one hand, showing off just a little bit as you smirk at Natsuki. "Well, what do you think? Have I earned the right to have at least one of these most-delightfully-baked-goods?"

She's fumbling for a response, ego most definitely wounded.

You lower the tray again, adding teasingly, "Alas, if you can't spare even one little muffin, I suppose we could work out some kind of arrangement?" You pause and hum, tapping your chin thoughtfully with one finger from your free hand, pretending to think for a moment. "How's about, say, three years of your devoted friendship? That about equals the rescued lives of- onetwothreefourfiveand... six muffins, wouldn't you agree?" You say, making a small show out of counting them.

Natsuki glares at you with scorching magenta eyes, stuttering over her words so much ('don't compare her to Yuri even as a joke, she will kill us right here and now, Y/N.') that you start to worry if maybe you've gone too far in teasing her today- not everyone appreciates your jokes, but you usually got the impression that Natsuki actually kind of liked them... even if she acted like she didn't. Normally, you could literally see her trying her best to fight back a giggle, but this time she seemed more sensitive for whatever reason.

"Ah, Natsuki-"

Whatever half-assed attempt at an awkward apology you were about to come up with was interrupted, of course, by your ever-excitable mutual friend Sayori launching herself into the classroom with all the unrestrained joy of an elementary schooler, exclaiming, "Y/N! You're never here this early- and you brought snacks??"

Sayori leans too close into your personal space to inspect the muffins before deciding, "Wait, no- these look too good to be yours, I bet Natsuki-" She glances over her shoulder to see the baker in question and exclaims, "So you did make them! Hey, thanks!"

Natsuki, still attempting to recover from her previous flustered state, huffs, refusing to look at either of you two. "Y-Yeah, it's no big deal..."

Sayori is already reaching over to snag one of the muffins; you have no doubt in mind that she was the reason Natsuki made six treats instead of five.

You try to catch Natsuki's eye so you could feign some good ol' exaggerated exasperation with the way Sayori ate like such a child, and how tactless she could be, but the short girl was doing her absolute best to continue ignoring your entire presence.

Yikes, maybe you actually had seriously offended her... or maybe it was just something else entirely that had upset her so much...?

Before you had the chance to really think too much about what could be bothering Natsuki, the other members of the Literature Club arrived for the usual after school meeting, first Yuri and then shortly after Monika, both apologizing for being tardy even though they weren't that late at all.

"Oh, Natsuki brought snacks?" Inquires Monika as she notices the muffin tray you had set down on a desk a couple of minutes ago. "Let's all have them before we do any reading or discussions today."

Sayori beams at the club president's words, having already polished off her first muffin and now eager for yet another. You didn't blame her, Natsuki was a great baker, but sheesh, with the way Sayori had inhaled it, you wondered if she even tasted it at all.

You try yet again to send Natsuki a warm smile in the hopes of cheering her up somehow, but she was still steadfastly pretending you didn't exist, apparently, and so your efforts were futile.

Resigned to your fate, you help Monika push some of the desks together to form a makeshift table that everyone settled down at, each club member taking a muffin for themselves and starting to dig in.

"No complaints, Sayori?" You hum after the first bite when you realize what the flavor of these particular muffins is.

Your energetic friend is probably eating too quickly to really notice, as you originally suspected, and she simply blinks at you, confused.

"What do you mean 'complaints'?" Natsuki pipes up sharply, though her voice is wavering which makes you think she actually cares quite a lot about what others- maybe even you in particular- think of her baking prowess.

You shake your head defensively, chuckling a little. "Don't shoot, don't shoot! It's just, they're blueberry. Sayori can be such a kid sometimes, so I-"

"Do you not like them?" Natsuki snaps, making you wish, not for the first time, that you could finish a sentence around these girls.

"Ah- nono, I do! It's really good! I just was- uhm-" You struggle to find the right words to defend yourself under her heated glare. Why was Natsuki taking everything you said so personally today?

"Y/N was only joking," Monika, bless her soul, steps in calmly with the patience of a saint to try and smooth out the situation before it was given the chance to escalate any further. "You know how they can be."

Wow, okay, ouch.

You dramatically place a hand over your heart. "Why, Monika! You wound me." And honestly, there was a teensy bit of truth buried and hidden underneath your dumb joke. Just because you liked to cover up any feelings of discontentment in an effort to find the tiniest semblance of humor in just about any scene of life didn't mean you went around purposely hurting the feelings of those around you. Or... did you? Shoot, now you weren't sure anymore.

Sayori laughs out loud at your over the top display, and you notice even Yuri is trying to hide a smile behind her muffin, her violet eyes almost unnerving with the way they follow your every movement.

But you aren't really paying attention to any of them at the moment, so much so that you don't even process Monika's reply. Your focus is purely on Natsuki.

She's not glaring directly at you anymore, but down at her hands which are clasped together in her lap.

You clear your throat; being serious wasn't your thing, but you still wanted to give it a try- for her. Softly, in the hopes of not letting the rest of the girl's overhear your words, you begin, "Natsuki, I..."

"It is strange, though." Yet again you are interrupted! If it had been Sayori, you would have been openly frustrated with her, but this time it's Yuri's shy self who has at last decided to share something of her thoughts with the group.

A beat of silence. “What’s strange?” Monika prompts when Yuri doesn’t continue her train of thought.

The violet-haired girl jolts a little, as if she hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud. “Ah- just that- uhm- I was just thinking… Natsuki usually bakes cupcakes for us instead of muffins,” she explains timidly.

Huh. Weird observation, but Yuri kinda had a point.

Natsuki stiffens, sending a scowl in Yuri’s direction. “You don’t have to psychoanalyze literally everything, y’know. Life isn’t always like one of your dumb novels where you have to make up deeper meanings for when one doesn’t exist.”

You exchange a swift glance with Monika- lately, you and the club president had sort of been tag teaming helping each other lately to diffuse conflict within the Literature Club. Most often, the offenders were the same as the ones now: Natsuki and Yuri. Monika’s method of smoothing over issues was calmly and kindly, whereas you tended to take a more comedic route where angry grumbles could dissolve into grudging laughter.

Since it was technically your turn to step in and try to solve some conflict before either girl burst into tears, you interject with the first set-up for a joke that pops into your head.

“Heh, careful, Natsuki. I think you might give Yuri a new idea for one of her poems.” You face the taller girl as you continue, “Here, I’ll help you with the topic- ‘muffins- are they just ugly cupcakes?’ Yeah, just throw in some fancy language and stuff and-“

You can tell by everyone’s expressions that you’ve made a misstep somewhere here in your delivery, but then Yuri reaches up with one hand as she tries to mask her smile, and you’re intensely relieved you didn’t hurt her feelings.

Somehow, though, it seemed someone else was hurt.

Natsuki stood up abruptly from her chair, the sound of it’s metal legs grating on the floor causing you to wince. “Can you be serious for once?”

She doesn’t wait for your response, just turns on her heel to grab her cute pink backpack and then stalk out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Sheesh, what did I say….?” You sigh heavily, combing a hand through your hair. You were so frustrated with both yourself and Natsuki.

Sayori gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, already standing up to go check on Natsuki, but Monika’s timelessly intelligent emerald gaze was fixed on you with a thoughtfulness that seemed beyond her years, and it did not move away from you when she spoke to Sayori. “No, let’s have Y/N go and talk things out with her.”

You cringe. “Won’t that just make things worse?” You worry, shaking your head. “I mean, call me crazy, but I don’t think I’ll be getting an award for being her favorite person anytime soon, Monika…”

A faint smile crosses Monika’s face. “Mm, I think you’d be surprised. Just go and talk with her, and please hurry before you miss her. I’d hate to lose a club member, especially one as talented as Natsuki.”

You stand up, a bit alarmed by the assumption your club president was making here. What, just because of one little spat it was presumed Natsuki would quit the Literature Club altogether? That would never happen!

….Would it?

You weren’t keen on taking your chances of finding out, so you hastily made your exit from the classroom, looking around the school halls and seeing just a flash of pink disappear around the corner to your right.

You hurry after Natsuki, glancing around uncertainly- you were pretty sure you weren’t allowed to roam the halls like this after classes were over, even if you were in a club. Plus, it seemed like Natsuki wasn’t actually leaving the school building at all, she was heading for the roof.

You don’t call her name for fear of being reprimanded by some annoying teacher or other staff, so you kept quiet as you trailed after your friend up some flights of stairs; if she was aware of your presence, she said nothing- you were mostly sure that she would’ve snapped at you to go away if she had noticed you.

At last you make it to the door that went out to the roof of the school building, which had just closed behind Natsuki. Tentatively, you push it open as quietly as possible and take a small peek outside to survey the situation.

Natsuki is sitting on a small bench with her back still to you, her attention apparently fixed on the horizon.

“Wow, they have benches up here?” You ask, finally making your presence known as you step out onto the roof and allow the door to drift shut behind you.

Natsuki starts, glancing back over her shoulder to see you, and her eyes narrow when you offer her a hesitant smile. “If you’re here to apologize, you can just leave.” Her voice is sharp, but you can sense that she sounds almost, defeated in a way.

You shrug, wandering over to sit down next to her, looking towards the sky. “Good thing I wasn’t planning on apologizing, then.”

She huffs, purposely scooting away from you so that she was right on the edge of the bench. “Look, what makes you think I want your company?”

“I dunno. Maybe I just wanted to explain what I meant for my own sake. My reputation and all that?”

She purses her lips together. “Go ahead then,” she mutters wearily.

“I never mean to offend you or anybody else with my jokes. I just kinda, joke around a lot, it’s not something I ever even think about doing, it just happens.” You pause, sighing dramatically as if the weight of the world has been taken off of your shoulders. “Boy, it’s been so long since I’ve held onto that secret. “So… now it’s your turn.”

At last the pink-haired girl looks at you, mildly confused. “My turn to do what?”

“Share a secret,” you clarify playfully.

Natsuki immediately shakes her head, a brilliant blush painting her cheeks. “Wh- never!”

You laugh. “Okay, alright, point taken. How about this then: how was your day?”

Natsuki calms down somewhat, apparently actually considering your question. You realize she seems… sad, somehow. “It was… whatever.”

“Did you bake the muffins this morning or-?” You ask idly.

“No, last night.” She pauses, glancing away again to stare at the sky, and you got the sense she was somewhere else in her memories, not fully present with you on this school roof now. “I was… going to decorate them this morning, but then I just. Had to leave.”

“Ah, so you’re one of those tardy students, aren’t you?” You tease as gently as possible.

She exhales in a long, frustrated breath. “For your information, I got to school a few hours early actually.”

You have very few puzzle pieces of this mystery to try and fit together, and you wish she’d stop being so- mysterious about this whole thing. You hadn’t noticed before today, but you knew very little about Natsuki, aside from the facts that she liked manga (probably anime too), baking, writing, the color pink, cute things… you didn’t know anything at all about her home life. You’re tempted to ask just why she was so early, why she couldn’t decorate the muffins, but just as you’re trying to work up the courage and the right words, she saves you the trouble.

“My father…” She trails off, sounding uncharacteristically insecure for once, and her eyes seem too-bright, as if shining with unshed tears. She’s being very vulnerable with you right now, and you’re intensely worried you’re going to mess it up with her somehow, so you keep quiet and wait for her to continue. “He…”

Her voice catches in her throat, not allowing her to continue.

Instantly you lean closer to rest your hand on her hand, causing her to flinch in shock at the unexpected touch.

She gives you a look like she wants to be angry, but at the same time, she’s not pulling away from you.

You really, really don’t want to see her cry. Not Natsuki, the strong-willed, determined, fierce Natsuki. You’re unsure how to comfort people, so you go with what you know best.

In a perfectly serious tone and a straight-faced expression, you say, “Do you want me to beat him up for you?”

For a second, you’re about 80% sure she’s going to slap you right in the face.

But instead, something miraculous happens.

Natsuki giggles, and as she does so, tears streak down her cheeks.

“Oh God- I didn’t mean to-!”

“No, no!” She cuts you off, tugging her hand away from yours and swiping at her face to try and wipe the moisture from her eyes, a smile still tugging at her lips. “You’re- you’re fine- I mean! Not you, I meant that, it’s fine. Really, it’s fine…” She pauses, and you think this is the first time Natsuki has ever gazed at you with such softness.

Have you really made her feel better? You’re pretty proud of yourself for that one. You would like to tell her that she can talk to you about anything anytime, or that maybe she can hang out at your house whenever she can’t stand being at hers, but she speaks before you can.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Your jokes are terrible.”

You tilt your head to the side in confusion. Despite the insult, you can definitely hear the smile in her voice.

[marchioness-caprina]

Mentor Day

Note : In This AU, Hawks is adopted by the todoroki Family, enji is a good dad and dabi is not a villain. And Todoroki's Mom is a Hero.

Pairings : Jealous! Hawks x Reader

Writing style: 3rd Person

Warning : Cussing

Word count : 3623

3rd Person's POV

" I'm so excited for Today! I can't wait to meet your Mentors! " Kirishima yelled with enthusiasm punching the air.

Everyone was gathered around Ground Beta for the sole reason that the Head of Agencies they were currently interning in were coming over to discuss the growth of the students, also because they chose U.A as the meeting Venue knowing that it's one of the places in Japan that is Highly guarded and secured and the School was Near the City so if anything were to happen they could always get there in a jeepy. There was another Reason but it wasn't disclosed to any of the students and nobody questioned it.

" Shut Up shitty Hair! " Bakugou snarled smacking Kirishima who seemed to be unaffected by Bakugou's ' affection ' towards him.

" Hey aren't You and Tokoyami Under Hawks's? The number 2 Pro Hero!? " Mina pointed out and suddenly everyone's attention was now settled on Y/n and Tokoyami.

Tokoyami had an unreadable expression but his face mostly showed that he was awkward and uncomfortable with the Topic. Not because of His Mentor... It's because of His Mentor's Interest.

Y/n on the other hand looked annoyed pissed, it was very obvious that neither of the two wanted to talk about it because of the lack of answer and their current expressions.

" So... What's it Like to be Under Pro Hero Hawks? " Momo began to press deeper onto the subject and was oblivious to her two classmate's look of disapproval. And it seems like she wasn't the only curious one.

" Well? " Jiro raised a brow when they didn't hear an answer. The two were very hesitant until y/n finally spoke up.

" Tokoyami-kun would I be breaking the law if I talk shit about him? "

" Eeehhhh!? " Everyone was confused as to why the sudden change of their classmate's personality took shift at a questionable rate.

" Technically there's no law about that and since he's not here to hear it... It's fine " Tokoyami answered with a straight face and his response got everyone questioning their experience even more.

" What the hell happened to you two while you were there? " Denki asked staring at the two. Tokoyami was hesitant but y/n just looked pissed and angry .

She showed irritation that could match Bakugou's.

" That's not something you should be asking me... You should be asking y/n that... I just had the unfortunate privilege to witness... That.... And I know a very dark secret I wish to unlearn " Tokoyami muttered at Everyone was fidgeting with curiosity while staring at y/n who looked like she was about to explode any minute now.

" Well if you Must know. On the first week I had to endure a bunch of whiny one night stand's Drama and Rage while trying to get them to go fuck themselves and trust me... Persuading a bunch of love struck delusional hoes to go home and keep silent for the rest of their lives isn't a very charming job. I had to suck in every single cheesy pick up lines that'll have anyone gagging, I had to endure being dragged around through the wonderful 'skies' like a ragdoll in the most unfortunate hour and I had to deal with Birdman's constant fuckery every single day so yeah... It wasn't that bad.... It was terrible. " Y/n's tone was forcefully dragged out and polite but her hostile expression got everyone shuddering.

Yes, Hawks was a flirt and he'd flirt with her with every chance he got, much to y/n's dismay. But knowing Hawks's reputation she brushed it off like it was one of his most common habits and got used to ignoring him, he was nice though and she felt like a sheltered child. Hawks never let's her go out to patrol on her own unless it's with Him and only Him. He constantly brings her gifts and snacks to which she is thankful and greatly flattered but she didn't like hearing Rumors about her with the Pro Hero himself. Overall she was thankful that she was being treated well but she didn't appreciate the special treatment.

Tokoyami on the other hand knew of his Mentor's love and affection for his Classmate, if he knew any better he found out that Hawks had imprinted on y/n like a new born chick. The reason Tokoyami knew that was because of the gifts, the flirting, Hawks's constant need to be around y/n, His possessiveness and Don't even get Tokoyami started on How much Hawks talks about y/n during patrol. Hell, Even when Hawks is literally stepping on a Villain's Face he'd still talk about How ' Perfect she was ' . At most of all, his Classmate was very unaware of Hawks's actual feelings and he's afraid he couldn't blame her simply because of Hawks's reputation as a 'playboy'.

" Wow.... I didn't think it would be like that.... Hawks's still pretty cool though " Sero muttered and that left y/n gawking at him because the least they could do was sympathize with her!.

" No shit " She grumbled sarcastically and she felt two hands grab hold of her shoulder behind her and speaking of the Devil, Hawks was already here.

" Hey there chicken nugget, what are you kids talking about? " Hawks asked leaning down , resting his chin on y/n's shoulder while both of his hands clamped down on each side of her shoulder blades protectively.

" Nothing Hawks, we were Talking about Nothing " Y/n who was already immune to the Touchiness of the male behind her was nonchalant on her reply and she sounded bored but her expression clearly showed ' Oh No, Not this Shit Again ' .

" Oh really? Well ok then baby bird but I have to say You look Perfect little dove but that is to be expected by my Epitome of beauty " Hawks grinned rubbing his cheeks against y/n's own in a very affectionate manner.

" Yeah, Yeah. Get off me Birdman you're getting that irritating Chicken stench on me " Y/n grumbled pushing him away from her to which she was successful with.

" Aww~ But you felt so soft " Hawks whined in an almost childish way.

Everyone was witnessing the very thing Tokoyami dreaded and they were choking on their own spit after seeing the interaction between the two.

They and so many questions yet so little answer and they knew they couldn't just bombard y/n with questions, not when Hawks was around.

" Uhh... You two seem.. Close" Denki commented to where he earned a proud grin from Hawks.

" No we're Not. He's just being A flirt, you'll Get used to it " Y/n snickered rolling her eyes at Hawks who was trying to hug her.

" You should have heard How much He talks about her at Home... He's like a broken Radio. Y/n this and that " Todoroki snorted and his comment got everyone gaping.

It didn't look that way to everyone else, it was clear that the Pro Hero liked her if throwing himself around her wasn't enough, the look in his eyes definitely spoke otherwise.

" So this is the little Lassy Hawks have been talking about? " Fatgum along with the rest of the pro Heroes Were slowly gathering towards them.

" This is Her? She's adorable in person . Keigo Never stops talking about her at home" Another voice came from a woman with white hair, and is almost identical to Shoto.

" .... Hah! You should hear what he has to say when he's asleep " Dabi murmured with a laugh.

" .... You Talk about me? " Y/n asked staring at Hawks who was nodding his head, a smirk plastered on his face.

" Ewww, Stop that. It's annoying and creepy " Y/n sighed shoving Hawks away.

" Isn't she lovely? " Rei mumbled a small chuckle escaping her lips as Dabi stared at her in bewilderment .

" So you're not gonna question their age gap?..... Really mom? " Dabi snorted and enji stood behind him, patting his back.

" You know how your mother is " Enji muttered staring down at his son.

" You have a point.... "

____________________

By now everyone was gathered around, some of them chatting with their mentors and some were meeting their classmate's other mentors.

Rei, Enji and Dabi were intently observing Keigo who looked so close to snapping, sure his face looked playful and relaxed but they knew him well enough to know that it was Keigo's facade.

On the other side was Y/n and Hawks talking to Fat gum, well it was only y/n showing enthusiasm about their conversation, Hawks had never left her side the whole time. Always trailing behind her like a lost puppy.

" That's really cool! I heard from Kirishima that you have two Forms? " Y/n's eyes gleamed with curiosity.

" Why yes little lady " Fat gum answered as he nervously glanced at Hawks. He could feel the raging intensity of Hawks's Jealousy radiating brighter than the sun's ray. To which y/n was oblivious of.

" Ya know buddy, you really have nothing to worry about when it's me " Fat gum stated his words directed towards Hawks who let out a sigh and gave him a genuine smile for once.

" Sorry, I couldn't help it when it comes to my little dove " Hawks chuckled slinging his arm around her shoulder and y/n immediately reacted by shoving his arm away without even glancing at him.

" Stop talking about me like I'm not here " Y/n muttered to which Hawks replied by doing it again and y/n shoved his arm again.

Fat gum was both entertained and a bit awkward with the situation until he spotted his side kick. Tamaki whom he had kindly asked to pick up something for him

" Anyways! That's enough you two, I'd like you to meet Tamaki Amajiki. He's my sidekick " Fat gum proudly introduced Tamaki who froze in his spot and began trembling nervously.

" Oh wow! I've heard so much about him! Our class was introduced to him before! But I never got to see his face clearly because he had his face on the wall the whole time! Let's start all over again. Hey I'm y/n l/n! Nice to meet you senpai... For the second time " Y/n grinned putting her hand out to shake his.

Tamaki who was nervous and flattered that someone remembered him shakily reached out his hand to shake hers but a look of pure shock flashed through his face when Another hand met his.

" Nice to meet you Buddy " Hawks grinned in an odd and threatening manner squeezing poor Tamaki's hand .

" U-u-uhh" Tamaki stuttered at y/n was annoyed at Hawks's actions.

" Hey! I was the-- you know what? Never mind. Anyway, senpai I heard stories about you from Kirishima-kun! And I think you're really cool! And you're cuter up close! " Y/n tried easing the nervous senior with compliments in order to atone the actions of Hawks. But Hawks took it in a different way.

Tamaki flushed red and Hawks let go of his hand with disdain, his eyes having a deadly glint and his smirk almost looked threatening and sadistic.

Fat gum who witnessed the scene knew he fucked up by calling Tamaki over, the Todoroki family were astonished to see how reactive Hawks could be when y/n was involved. At home he was really hard to read and when they thought they knew him Hawks suddenly surprises everyone by proving them wrong. But now his expression looks so raw and unmasked.

" Tsk, He doesn't Look much to Me " Hawks suddenly spat out in an irritated tone.

Y/n elbowed him after seeing Tamaki's expression.

" He doesn't mean that! He's just really insensitive... Aren't you Hawks? " Y/n glared at the man beside her and he scoffed looking away.

" You're actually really powerful Senpai! Trust me! Kirishima talks about you all the time it's adorable seeing him look up to someone who's equally as cute as Kirishima " Y/n tried covering the damage done by Hawks and Tamaki was conflicted. He didn't know who to believe anymore.

Another scoff was heard from Hawks and before he could make another comment y/n stepped on his feet making him wince.

" Ouch! " He grumbled looking down at y/n who was glaring at him threateningly.

Jealousy bubbled at the very core of Hawks, She called two men cute at the same time and she dared to do it in front of him! He praised men who aren't him. Sure they aren't official but isn't it clear that he was showing how much he could give her? He knows he's enough but it seems like his little dove was very dense. It's starting to irritate him. He didn't feel good inside and he really wanted to punch a bitch. Was she taunting him? Oh she definitely was. Just look at how she looks at them , it really makes him want to rip off someone's throat.

His wings began to bristle and rose intimidatingly the edges becoming sharp and ridged, jealousy was getting the best of him.

With a rough Tug, he dragged her away forcefully even with the harsh protest from the girl.

" Hey! Ok this is getting out of hand! " Y/n pulled her hand away and Hawks looked back at her with a gaze that could kill.

" Stop taunting me Y/n. I'm not handling it well " Hawks muttered but his voice was rough and demanding. Y/n shivered at how her name rolled out of his tongue. He never uses that tone or calls out her name like that unless she's in deep shit.

" Clearly, you're mad about shit I didn't do so go cool off or something " Y/n shot back her expression was out of sheer anger and Hawks responded by spreading his wings and he flew off without another word.

With a sigh y/n went back to her classmates, she was unaware if the stares that were thrown her way.

" A lovers quarrel? " Mt. Lady mumbled.

" Definitely a Lovers Quarrel " Fat gum confirmed.

" Is no one seriously questioning the fact about their age gap? " Dabi stated and Rei gave him a cold glare. Even shoto was seen glaring at him from his group.

" Ok fine jeez " Dabi shrugged shoving his hands into his pockets.

_____________________

20 minutes had passes and Hawks was still gone, by that time everyone was gathered around, the class was seated on the ground as the Pros started giving out their opinions and deductions on hm their performance.

Rei began to feel worried about her adopted son that had raged out of the area. Enji tried reassuring her that Keigo was old enough to take care of himself.

And on cue Hawks had arrived holding a box in his hand, he looked calmer now and more relaxed.

" Keigo dear, are you ok? " Rei asked approaching the male.

" Yeah I'm fine... Just needed a little breather.... " He muttered, his eyes glued to y/n who was listening intently to the discussion. Rei noticed this and a smile graced her lips.

" Go get her dear " Rei encouraged the male and Hawks flashed her a grin.

" Oh I will. And I'm going to make sure you're going to have a daughter in law soon " Keigo smugly stated and Rei's eyes widened only to have the woman laugh.

Luckily the little lessons the Pro's were conducting had finished and everyone was free. As the students began to stand up. Y/n was pulled away immediately by Hawks. And once she was a few feet away a box was shoves towards her. She was caught off guard but managed to hold it in her hands as she lookes up at Hawks questioningly.

" What's this? " The girl asked suspiciously.

" You like that doughnut shop near our agency yeah? I was flying by and decided to buy some for you as a Sorry present.. I admit that I went overboard... " Hawks explained rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

" What!? I can't accept thi---"

" Eat it or Throw it. I'm giving it to you and that's final so do what you want with it... Although it would be a waste if you throw it away... I did go out of my way to buy that for you with my own money even though I was still angry---"

" Ok fine you don't have to guilt trip me! I'll accept it ok?.... But you did say I could do what I want with it so... I'm sharing this with everyone " Y/n smiled and Hawks snapped his head towards her his eyebrows furrowed.

" What? No. I bought that For YOU not for them " Hawks grumbled and the girl gave him a playful smirk.

" You did say it was mine and I could do whatever I want with it " She replied slyly and Hawks turned away stomping his way towards Rei, Enji and Dabi.

" Ooo... You got it Bad. She's denser than a--"

" Don't finish that Touya I swear " Hawks glared at Dabi who only laughed at his protectiveness.

" Just be patient Keigo, she is young and she probably still doesn't have Love on her mind yet " Rei assured Keigo while rubbing his back.

" Tsk. You better not give up. You're a Todoroki after all , and I already acknowledge her as a daughter in law... No crazy woman would stomp their feet on the number 2 hero like that " Enji nodded and Hawks should be delighted but his eyes were glued to the girl.

She was sharing the doughnuts he bought for her and the last straw came when she had fed Kirishima with a doughnut.

His fathers on his wings bristled and the ends began to sharpen, his eyes darkened at the sight and his teeth were gritted.

The girl took notice of this and approached him. God he was losing it. One wrong move and he might forget the fact that she's still a minor and just go straight up to breeding her if he had to. Fuck everything she does is turning him on . He is smitten.

" Hey what's wrong? "

" You have the guts to ask me ' What's wrong?' Oh why don't ask that to all the other guys you fed doughnuts to? The ones I bought for you! You're so oblivious it's starting to piss me off little dove. Was I not subtle enough? I fucking Like---mphf--" Hawks was cut off when a Doughnut was shoved in his mouth by the girl in front of him.

" Shut your worm Hole You stupid Birdman, I like you too ok? But please stop being so annoying. I'm also protecting your reputation as a Hero here. I can't have you all over the tabloids stating that you like a high schooler. You'd be seen as a pedophile you dumbass " The girl finished and was about to pull her hand away from his mouth when he grabbed hold of her wrist, he kissed her finger gingerly before licking and sucking on that very finger she held the doughnut .

She froze, Dabi Froze, Everyone froze.

" What the fuck? " Katsuki was she first to speak up.

" I second that ' What the fuck ' " Y/n muttered and Hawks gave her a look that could have her melt into a puddle. A smug and triumphant grin plastered on his face as his arms wrapped around her waist possessively.

" Awww~ it warms my heart to know that you're protecting me that way. For a moment there I thought you don't care and all that shitty jealousy was so worth it because you told me you like me in the end.... " Hawks cooed his face nearing hers and she immediately distanced her face away from him.

" Hawks get off me! " She yelled her face was flushed and he had the sudden urge to kiss her right now.

" You'll have to pay for making me jealous though. It was not a very pretty feeling " Hawks grinned before his wings spread open and gave one strong flap and he was already flying her away from the scene.

" Holy shit.... Dude " Denki muttered staring up at the sky.

" Enji! Do you think we should renovate the house? " Rei asked enthusiastically.

" I think we just might have to " Enji replied.

" .... I ship it though " Mina stated and the girls gave an unspoken agreement to her statement.

" So... How many chicks do you think they'll have? " Dabi asked and Rei smacked him.

" Touya! " Rei scolded making Dabi chuckle.

" Nah it's too early... He won't knock her up just yet... Or will he? " Dabi grinned and this time Rei had frozen him in place.

" Touya! Stop that! " Rei fumed.

Dabi shut up immediately fearing Rei's wrath after seeing her angry expression.

[chibinekochan]

How to become a Demon Ruler 102

Part:   01  I

After getting adopted by the Demon King * better known as Diavolos dad *, you get sent to the demon prince castle.

There you are supposed to get your proper education from your new adoptive brother and his butler.

GN. Reader insert

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

At that moment I open my eyes and almost have a heart attack when I find Barbatos looking at me. "Wah, what are you doing here?" I yelp in surprise.

"I'm ashamed if I startled you. It's time for dinner." Barbatos is calm as usual and smiles at me. It's a bit unnerving if I'm being honest.

"Next time you should knock." I say with a frown.

"Very well, I will remember that." Barbatos face doesn't even twitch.

He is a real pro. I have to admire that dedication.

I get up from the bed.

  Barbatos stands there, seemingly waiting for a chance to assist me.

"Do you wish to change?" Barbatos tone doesn't seem to imply that I should change my clothes.

"No, I'm good..." I'm hesitant if my answer is right and carefully peek at him.

Barbatos serenely smiles at me. "Then we should head to the dining room."

I'm starting to wonder if anything would ever wipe that smile off his face. I don't think I want to find out.

  Barbatos escorts me to the dining room. It's more of a banquet hall. It's so vast, I can barely see the other side of the room.

Diavolo is already sitting on the table and smiles happily at me.

Barbatos shows me to my seat.

I sit down, anxious of what to do or say. Everything is still sinking in.

  "How do you like your room?" Diavolo breaks the silence.

"It's very charming." I can't tell him that it's too big or that I'm nervous about breaking anything if I look at it too intensely. So I'm just being gracious.

"That's great to hear. I was worried if you could feel at home here but I'm delighted you like it." Diavolo seems so genuinely pleased that it makes my heart ache.

"My lord please don't pressure the young liege." Barbatos softly reprimands Diavolo.

I hold my breath for Diavolos reaction to that.

"Oh, did I do that? I apologize, I might be a bit too excited about having such a cute sibling. Don't mind me." Much to my surprise Diavolo waves it literally off.

I feel a bit embarrassed about being called cute but I can't say anything to stop him. "It's alright." I offer him a faint smile.

"Don't encourage him too much." Barbatos almost whispers this to me, but it's obvious that Diavolo can still hear him.

"Shall we eat then?" Diavolo's expression has not changed at all.

I nod and our meal begins.

  The meal includes several courses. I do my best to remember what cutlery to use for certain dishes but frankly I have never seen any of the food being served.

A few times I direct a desperate glance at Barbatos and he kindly points to the correct silverware. Then I look at Diavolo on how to eat the meal. He doesn't seem to mind his own manners that much.

Our meal is a bit strange, but I am more than full by the end of it.

  "That was extremely pleasant. How did you like our food?" Diavolo seems a bit worried, like I didn't eat enough. I mean he did eat a lot more than I did.

"I have never eaten anything like this before but it was absolutely delicious. I want to compliment the cook." I state the genuine truth. Some of the dishes looked a bit dubious but everything tasted very good and some dishes were similar to human food.

"I'm extremely delighted to hear that." Barbatos tone is gentler than before and his smile reaches his eyes. So he must be very happy.

"Wait, don't tell me that you prepared all of this?" It surprises me to say the least. Typically, something like this would be done by a kitchen chef.

"Indeed, I take pride in my cooking." Barbatos nods.

"That is extremely impressive." It's hard to believe, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised that the butler of the demon prince is top class.

  Barbatos seems to let his mask slip for about a nano second and bestows me a genuine smile when our eyes meet.

It gives me pleasant shivers.

"As much as I'd love to idle chat with you but I fear we have a lot of significant things to talk about. So we should move to the living room." Diavolo seems regretful when he says this.

"We can talk casually once we are done." Whenever I see him, looking even slightly sad, he reminds me of a big puppy and can't help cheering him up. 

"Ohh! That is an excellent idea." Diavolo nods.

  I swear that I hear a slight snicker from Barbatos, who stands behind me. I'm uncertain if I should acknowledge that. 

I stand up and Diavolo walks beside me, he is cautious to follow my pace. I appreciate that greatly.

  The living room is just as big and gaudy as I expected. Somehow I'm slowly getting used to it. 

Diavolo sits down and motions me to sit across from him.

Barbatos moves quickly to serve us both tea.

  Diavolo looks slightly troubled when he starts talking. "Father has informed me of what he expects from you. I protested against placing this much pressure on you. Sadly he can be quite hard headed. So I have decided to give you Barbatos as your personal attendant. He is very well versed in all the things you will require in order to succeed. I also rely on him greatly. I'm very confident that he will teach you everything that you need to know." Diavolo smiles kindly at me. 

Diavolo emphasizes the word trust. I'm certain it can't be easy for a prince to trust anyone.

"This is a great honor but isn't he your personal butler?" I wonder if he will be okay without Barbatos. 

"He is, but I'm convinced that I will be able to survive without him." Diavolo doesn't seem to think it's an issue, at least. 

"We will see about that. I can merely hope you don't think that I will neglect my duties towards you just because I'm the young lieges Butler at the moment.” Barbatos didn't miss a beat.

  He can be pretty brutal, but that doesn't faze Diavolo at all. I start to wonder if anything troubles him.

Diavolo shrugs. "You should give me some more credit. At any rate, I know training will be difficult but I will make sure that you also get to rest. In about a week there is a formal party at the house of lamentation. I think this will mark the ideal opportunity for you to gain some experience from a formal event in the devildom. Do you think you will be capable of handling it?" Diavolo looks at me with a hopeful gleam. 

"A week? Isn't that a bit too soon? I don't know anything about demon manners." I'm quite baffled. 

"I have observed your manners and there aren't any glaring issues. Actually you possess more manners than some other demons that I know. From what I have noted, I would say that you are simply unfamiliar with the kind of food we serve. Other than that we probably should add some dance lessons and teach you some information that will be helpful for you." Barbatos seems to have everything fully planned out. 

"We should go shopping to get some elegant clothes too." Diavolo seems to agree with this plan. 

I'm just glad that they don't perceive me as some sort of social pariah. "If you think that I won't embarrass you, I will do my best." I give him a faint smile. I have an uneasy feeling about it to be honest, but it's hard to resist his smile. 

"You would never embarrass me, you are my dearest little sibling after all. If anyone dares to cross you they will dearly pay for it." Diavolo says this without a hint of sarcasm.

  I'm not sure what to say to such a bold statement, it's pretty sweet that he admires me this much already. Even when I'm slightly concerned since it hasn't even been a day yet. Maybe this is completely normal for Diavolo?

  "Please don't do anything rash my lord." Barbatos refills his cup, and I feel a sense of relief. At least Barbatos is calm. "Defending the young master is my job after all. I will let them pay dearly." My eyes widen from these words. For many reasons. First of all he has a slightly scary aura for a brief moment, and on top of that, him calling me master does certain things to me. 

"I'm sure that won't be necessary." I'm not quite sure who I'm defending here. 

"You are certainly a kind person." Diavolo emphasizes this by nodding. 

"I think you should head to bed now. Tomorrow will be a long day for you." Barbatos speaks politely, but he leaves no room to disagree. 

"I think you are right." I'm too tired to fight right now and just agree.

“Sleep tight. I hope I can be there for tomorrow's breakfast but for dinner I will definitely join you.” Diavolo sounds like a doting big brother.

  It makes me giggle a bit. He seems to register this as happiness and smiles at me. 

“Thank you, have a pleasant night.” I respond in a kind manner with a smile. 

“Thank you and don't hesitate to ask me if you need anything. I should give you a phone.” Diavolo has apparently just thought of this.

“I will make sure that you get one by tomorrow morning.” Barbatos leaves absolutely no doubt about that.

“That is very kind of you.” I wasn't expecting this.

"Don't worry about it. I'm determined to make you feel at home here." Diavolo speaks with great determination. I can't help but believe him. 

Somehow I start to hope that his words will come true. "I hope so too." I say softly, unsure if I'm telling the truth. 

Barbatos nods, as if to assure me. 

  Then I stand up and once again follow Barbatos to my room. "Thank you for escorting me Barbatos. Have a pleasant night." I feel grateful towards him. 

Barbatos seems slightly surprised but then smiles at me. "Sleep well master, and if you require anything please call me." It seems like he wants to add something but doesn't. Maybe he just wants to give me some space. I appreciate that. 

"I will do that." I assure him. 

  Barbatos waits for me to close the door, and I can hear him walking away. 

I let out an audible sigh. This definitely won't be pleasant. 

My body is tired but my mind is racing, so I decide to take a look into my bathroom. 

Much to my surprise I find the bathtub filled with steaming water and a flowery smell fills the air. 

I wonder when Barbatos did this. Well, it is possible that there are other servants. Still pretty impressive. 

  I smile and undress quickly. 

The bath melts much of my tension. Somehow my thoughts calm down. 

I mean I got a personal butler, and my new older brother seems to be a great guy. Suddenly I feel like I might actually be able to do this. 

This thought leads me to a deep sleep as soon as I hit my bed.

 ------------------

I'm opening a taglist for people who want to be notified of new posts. For now I will post a new part every weekend. Probably every saturday.

Have a great day everyone.

[drxwsyni]

Petrified (pt. 6)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: So, I’ve got the rest of this fic planned out which means ideally, writing the rest of it should be easier. I’m so sorry for how long it took me to finish this part, I just had to figure out where I was taking the whole story first. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

A big thank you to those few anons who so kindly sent me some inspiration for this fic. I really appreciate the help, and it greatly assisted me in forming the outline to the rest of the story <3

*Sidenote*: Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist! Also, I’d recommend looking at the warnings listed on Ao3 for the whole fic. There’s a lot of them, and some of you might like the heads up for future chapters (it will have slight spoilers though).

5.2k words

Warnings: Reader experiences panic attacks, severe anxiety & claustrophobia, coercive behaviour

The progression of the night felt slow, but perhaps that wasn’t such a horrible thing―it allowed your mind to grow accustomed to the seemingly endless rambling of a certain blond. That, and you could appreciate the unfaltering patience of his partner, who like you listened dutifully and made the occasional response to whatever the voice hero had chosen to fixate on.

And surprisingly, the frustrating agreement you were quite literally coerced into began slipping from your recollection, at least for the moment.

You’d admit, the two men had some fairly captivating stories. It was becoming a sort of norm for you to idly exist alongside them while they spoke. As a civilian, and one with relatively no past experience when dealing with heroes or villains, you were more or less forced to let them take the reins on the back and forth between the three of you.

That is unless they wanted to talk about what flowers were best paired together, or the step by step process of tending to some particularly high maintenance plants. You assumed they didn’t, and stayed quiet in your ways.

And so time went on, you nestled into the corner of their couch in the small but comfortably furnished living room, the fuel burning fireplace giving off a warmth that settled the nerves that had been sent skyrocketing not too long ago.

For the second time that night, your eyes drifted to the clock hanging on the wall―6:52 pm.

In moments like these you were able to be thankful of Shouta’s perceptiveness, him following your gaze without you realizing his actions. It wasn’t until he voiced his own concerns of not wanting to keep you up too late that you had the realization of his observances.

Naturally, you had no qualms with the idea of your departure.

Hizashi wasn’t as accepting of it, being the overly affectionate person you hated him for, but he would always listen to Shouta before he did so with you. And with a stern glance and brief assurance, his own opinions gave way in favour for the erasure hero’s.

You tried insisting that calling a cab home was no issue, but you rarely got your way with the two, and tonight was not going to be an exception. That reality had you sitting in their car on the way back to your apartment, Hizashi in the driver's seat and still managing to find something to discuss. At this point you weren’t sure if you preferred the nearly deafening silence of Shouta’s company, or the never ending chatter of his partner, but that too was out of your control when you were seen off by the visibly exhausted man at the door just minutes ago, him favouring to remain home to clean up for the night.

The speakers were playing low, some unrecognizable channel broadcasting soft rock while you politely listened to Hizashi drone on as he drove the car through town. It had begun raining just before you left, the distinct but quiet noise of downpour hitting the windshield having a somewhat soothing effect.

It was greatly appreciated, when the sound of Hizashi’s voice was growing in intensity the more excited he became with the topic at hand. You didn’t have the heart to tell him to lower his tone, and so you did your best to contain any brief winces when the pitch raised just above a comfortable level.

When the sight of your apartment complex came into view through the rain splattered glass and street lights reflecting off the droplets, a deep sigh of relief escaped your lungs. Paying attention to the exuberant man after such a long and mentally tasking night was difficult, but somehow you managed to pull it off. You gave yourself some credit for surmounting the task, fully prepared to bound out of the vehicle to your awaiting bedroom the second the chance to do so arose.

The car came to a halt, Hizashi putting the gear shift into park outside the complex. You waited for the doors to unlock, getting ready to say your goodbyes.

You felt a warm hand rest atop your thigh instead, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Before ya get going, I just want to mention one last time that what you’re doin’ at work really isn’t the best idea, sunshine. I know, I know―you like helping people with that cute lil’ quirk of yours. It’s just the whole thing isn’t treatin’ ya very well, you can’t tell me it’s something you’re really okay with keeping up.”

The leg that wasn’t being held down by the blond’s hand bounced anxiously―the action itself unconscious, and movements small to the point where he didn’t pick up on it. His gaze was hard set on your expression, and the raw concern in his eyes was only unsettling, the exact opposite effect it should have.

Salvation was just a few metres away, but with the car doors still locked, it might as well be in another country.

Your eyes trained on the passing cars at the intersection down the street, plastering the best casual look across your face. Inwardly, you prayed he couldn’t sense the way your heart rate had picked up to a racing pace, and the somewhat unsteadiness to your breathing.

“It’s hard, but the job is all I have. Not just for money, but I really do get satisfaction out of working there. And...while this isn’t really the first time I’ve had issues because of my quirk, I can’t just let it stop me from doing what I love.”

Without even looking at him, you could tell how much he disapproved. And you didn’t need the visual confirmation when the grip on your thigh got tighter, and the noise of breathy exhale sounded off next to you. “Sunshine, you’re only hurtin’ yourself. It’s not worth it to do that over a job.”

For once your eyes met his, only for a moment, with a small and brief surge of what you think may have been confidence. Could’ve been stupidity, either way it had you replying with an edge. “You’re one to talk, don’t people like you get hurt all the time for the sake of your job?”

There was a pause, and in that silence you feared for your life.

But then the blonde gave an amused chuckle, removing the hand from your thigh to wave off your confrontational remark. “It’s different for you, I’m supposed to get hurt if it means I’ll protect someone else. And even then, I’m ready to rock with a little help from my friends. My wounds are healed and then it’s back to business―your aches are long term. And for what? Those pretty flowers are gonna die no matter what ya do, no need to put yourself through it to give them a few more days of air time, honey.”

All you could do was smile, even though the condescending attitude was killing you in more ways than one. To drive your fake expression of positivity home, you mustered that awful customer service voice that you’d summon when having to deal with some less than savoury individuals.

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re right, Hizashi. It’s just...I’m really dedicated to my job, and I have been for a long time. I don’t think we’ll be able to agree on this, but that’s not a big deal.”

He gave you a lasting look, as if trying to find answers that he wouldn’t get from spoken responses. Dismissively, the blond shook his head, unlocking the passenger door. “Alright, alright. I’m not gonna change my mind on this though. And ya better hold up your end of the deal either way. I don’t think Shouta or I could take another scare from you so soon, got it?”

Oh, you heard him loud and clear.

You nodded in agreement, “Of course, thanks for the ride home. Oh―feel free to tell me if you have to cancel any of our plans if something comes up too.” Hurriedly, you were collecting your handbag that was strewn across your lap, reaching for the handle and pushing the heavy door open.

“Sure thing, hun!” Inwardly, you cringed for the thousandth time this night at his unwelcome pet names, giving a final smile before gently shutting the car door.

The sound of rain lightly coming down around you, with the damp heaviness in the air felt like an atmospheric and emotional reset. One that you needed―your pent up anxieties were ready to break through the walls you put up since the second you stepped out of your apartment. And you almost forgot about them too, the feeling of consistent dread becoming something that lingered alongside all your other emotions. It never went away, and it’s not that you stopped noticing it completely, rather you had to push it down to keep up a calm facade.

And now, you didn’t dare glance back in Hizashi’s direction as you made your way to the front entrance of the complex. Because he would see the look on your face, lower lip quivering, eyes watering and expression just barely holding it together.

The distraction of a normal conversation was ripped from your body, and the prospect of having to worry about balancing work as usual without looking like a liar came crashing down on you.

You could only hope that the walls were thick enough for your neighbours to be protected from the sounds of your sobs.

_____

Petals grew with a lively plushness, leaves sprouting a new sense of vitality. It was a beautiful display of plant life.

And you grew tired.

Your most recent purchase of concealer was doing a good job dissuading people from that fact however. Even after a long work day, it remained masking the dark circles underneath your eyes. Nothing changed for a while, except for the notion that you were getting better at keeping the drawbacks of your dedication out of the spotlight.

Arrangement after tedious arrangement, your quirk brought life back into the greenery like it always did. You only wished you felt as healthy as you looked. The sight of a blemish free and lively complexion as a result of your new makeup routine made you a little jealous, knowing the truth.

You never felt so concerned and drained over the reality of your general state before now.

Those two heroes wanted you doing what they thought was best for you, which they had no right to decide. And although you resolved in secret to simply put up a front of agreeableness, their demands still had an effect.

Paranoia was one of them.

Having them walk in on your work shift unannounced was a slim possibility, but it was a possibility nonetheless. Ideally, you would save the fairly high priced makeup for those impending weekend nights spent with the two. Yet, the prospect of either of the heroes catching you off guard, and quite clearly unchanged from holding yourself back, kept you reapplying the product day after day.

You went into the ordeal with high hopes, but with each passing shift your doubts only became more incessant. Going through the motions of what was normally a mindless routine became taxing, even just days after seeing the two. And so, when the time rolled around a week later to give them what was pretty much a progress report passed off as a friendly get together, it was difficult to maintain a straight face.

No amount of astonishingly good food, or engaging stories by the fireplace could take your mind off the question that by all means should pop up.

And it did―merely proving your conceptions of what they really had in mind for nights like these. For some ungodly reason the two sought to control this part of your life, one that if it weren’t for them might not be a big issue. Without the emotional strain, your body would be able to handle the effects of utilizing your quirk in a way that was manageable.

It was their fault you felt as if the end of a work day couldn’t come sooner, and the fumes of energy you retained nearly weren’t enough to get you home each night.

And yet, as they sprung the expected question upon you, demanding to know if you were following through with your end of the ‘agreement,’ they seemed none the wiser to your blatant lies.

Well, aside from the fleeting glance Hizashi sent to Shouta, which was promptly disregarded, you’d effectively averted another crisis. It was back to settling into the background of their company, losing yourself in their words for the moment where the questionable reality of the situation went over your head.

Perhaps if you grew closer to the heroes under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t feel so gut wrenchingly apprehensive whenever you caught yourself coming to greatly enjoy your time with them. It was like an internal betrayal―your body unable to disregard the oppressive behaviour they exhibited, while simultaneously longing to have gratitude for their hospitable nature.

By the end of the night, the semi-forced meeting had you feeling as drained as any work day would, and then some.

In fact, you never fully recovered from it.

You only got worse, the need to apply more concealer and muster everything in your being to force a smile on your face during the day being the bane of your existence. It was all because of them, and they didn’t even know.

If you weren’t so miserable, you could almost laugh at the whole thing. They were the ones urging you to take better care of yourself, and yet it was them who were keeping you from doing so. It’s not like you could just heed their words and stop using your quirk―your livelihood depended on it. Tips were hard to come by in your occupation, and the only reason why you earned so much was due to the advantage you held in the workplace.

The frustration was what had you crying yourself to sleep some nights, at least when you weren’t too exhausted to simply pass out the second your head hit the pillow. You began devising ‘what if’ scenarios that would only have to do with ways to avoid Shouta and Hizashi. Ways to weasel your way out of meeting up with them.

Maybe you could fake being sick? They would just come check up on you regardless.

Perhaps you could move to another city? You didn’t have the funds―and what if they followed you?

Why don’t you just ask them to end the agreement?

...Don’t lie to yourself, you’d rather lose your job than face that level of confrontation.

They were an active nuisance even when they weren’t directly in your life. And so when they were present in that sense, the feeling of unbearable stress only increased tenfold.

Hizashi was one for texting, the sound of a message alert from your phone instinctively triggering your heart to drop in your chest like a Pavlov dog. A painful reminder in the times you managed to free your worrisome mind from their unintentional torment.

And then there was the unannounced visit from Shouta on your way home. It only happened once before the next dinner night, but it was enough to break down the wall you’d built for the ensuing occasion that would hopefully protect your weak heart from shattering under the stress.

He walked you home, catching you on your way back from work. It was peculiar, to say the least. A hero as busy as him actively ignoring his duties to see a civilian who was in no danger whatsoever back to their apartment. You initially questioned him, and he blew off the concern with the defence that this type of occurrence was very much in the rage of heroics that needed to be done.

You weren’t in danger, but you might’ve been if he hadn’t showed up. It was a logical action taken by him, and you shouldn’t worry about it.

Shouta was quiet on his feet, and you might’ve thought he’d left you be if it weren’t for that distinct rustling of his capture weapon shifting as he walked next to you. He was a man of few words, and seeing you home didn’t require much conversation when he was simply doing his duty as a hero.

You arrived at the complex, safe and sound. Physically at least.

As always, you had to adjust from keeping your anxieties to yourself, to being so overwhelmingly aware of them in the privacy of your own apartment. The floodgates were opened, and bottled up emotions no longer had a need to stay hidden. Coming home was never supposed to be so painful, but it was when you were forced to spend it trying to calm down from the chance day.

_____

They let you make dessert for your next meeting. The both of them were deeply impressed by your skills, offering their own extensive words of praise.

Expectedly, it wasn’t enough to have them forgetting the real reason why you were there. You were thankful when Shouta asked how you were doing this time―he always got straight to the point.

But you ended up yawning midway through dismissing their concerns, and of course they pressed you on it. It wasn’t intentional in the slightest. You didn’t want to give away that your limbs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds with how tired you were. Or how your existence could now be chalked up to getting ready for work, going to work, and recovering from work―with a sprinkle of uncontrollable meltdowns on the side.

You told them it was getting late, and they had offered you a drink, so naturally you were a little tired from it. No big deal, right?

Of course, they said.

And so you went home not too long after, Shouta in the driver's seat, stoic and silent as ever. Maybe it was your hazed over mind playing tricks on you, but his demeanour felt...off. Like he wanted to say something, but was holding himself back. Perhaps it was for your sake, or he just assumed you were too worn out to really take whatever words were floating around in his head to heart. So instead he kept a close eye on you the whole way home, stealing concerned glances that you never met with your own gaze. He was tense―the white knuckled grip on the wheel gave it away.

Shouta never gave you evidence as to why he was acting as such, and you never asked him to.

_____

While you may have been growing accustomed to their presence even in the slightest, it didn’t stop your body from shutting down in the areas that you needed most.

Resilience was your strong suit in the time before meeting the two men. But life was testing you around every corner, and you were failing these tests with worse results each time.

It was Wednesday, the halfway mark in another week that felt all too long for you to be able to stomach. Unforeseen obstacles were becoming a norm lately. Making sure you were stocked up on enough caffeine so you didn’t black out, pinching yourself to stay awake in the slower times at work, consciously paying attention simple actions so you didn’t trip over your own two feet. Generally, it was the small stuff that was making your life harder alongside the more glaring issues you faced.

And now, the obstacle was getting home. It’s not that this wasn’t always a task in itself, but it never developed past the routine of ensuring you were heading in the right direction when your mind chose to wander.

This time you were sure the route you were taking was correct, but something was in your way.

Your ears rung at the high pitched sirens going off around you. The flashing lights of firetrucks, ambulances, and other various first responder vehicles lit up the steeped darkness of the night. A crowd had formed at the police tape line blocking off one side of the street, the group effectively taking up any space left to get by on the other side that wasn’t bombarded by emergency personnel.

The sight seemed like an insurmountable feat, especially in your state. Physically and emotionally drained, the gathering of onlookers stood as one of your worst fears and largest challenges yet. Whatever had earned such an audience was beyond you. Realistically, you needed only to regard the response it was given to know that whatever had happened, it was quite serious.

And it was preventing you from moving forward.

There was the shortcut to your left, one that’d worked for you before...until it didn’t. The warnings of Shouta and Hizashi ran through your head, bringing on a new sense of anxiety. It was just what you needed―the words of the two most intimidating men in your life keeping you from seeing yourself home in a calm manner.

You couldn’t take the alleyway. The only option was right in front of you.

Deep breaths.

It was only roughly twenty or thirty feet of crowd. Tightly packed, and relatively unmoving. You didn’t have the heart to rudely shove your way through the condensed gathering, fearing the looks of disapproval from those you tried to get past. And so you weaved through slowly, barely getting out a passing “Pardon me,” or “Excuse me.”

Distantly, you were aware that your voice was so small amongst the muddled conversations of strangers and still blaring sirens, that the probability of anyone hearing your forced politeness was slim to none. But the action made you feel better, even if nobody knew that you were having these concerns. At least you were trying to be wary of others.

But you didn’t get the same care in return.

Rudely, an observing civilian shoved you to the side, selfishly trying to get a better view. You stumbled into another body, earning a curse of annoyance for your clumsiness. With a racing heart hammering in your ears, you gave a distressed apology. It earned you no leniency.

You can block them out, just focus on getting out of here.

Another harsh force collided with your back, sending you to the pavemented ground. The feeling of your knees scraping against the harsh surface didn’t register. The notion that tears were welling in your eyes didn’t either. Only the sensation of panic, and the ability to simply breath becoming more difficult was able to surface in your consciousness.

You pleaded with your body to stand up, and somehow you did, no thanks to anyone around you who could’ve very well assisted you. Through the thickness of the crowd you couldn’t even see where the bodies dissipated. All you could do was blindly move forward.

Nobody cared about how overwhelmed you quite obviously were. Or at least that’s what you thought, not being able to completely tell, or ask for help to hopefully alert someone of your extreme discomfort. They only needed to remove their focus from whatever scene warranted so much attention in front of them for a second to realize what they were unknowingly doing.

And yet, of course nobody was that conscious of their own actions. Not like you, who even amidst the chaos of being shoved in every which direction still desperately tried to minimize your own damage. It was for the sake of those who paid no mind for your own comfort, you fearing whatever might happen if you didn’t.

The presence of so many people was suffocating. If you didn’t think you were claustrophobic before, you certainly knew you were now.

You were exhausted, stressed, partly injured―although that fact still hadn’t set in yet―and unbearably on edge.

And then you were out.

You don’t remember going through the motions, just that now your body wasn’t compressed by countless others. A few seconds went by and you felt your sense of balance come back to you. But you still felt nauseous, and in lifting a hand to your face you realized that you were crying, feeling the distinct wetness against your fingers.

Out of the need for mental self-preservation, your brain essentially forced you into autopilot. You found your legs moving away from the crowd, and down the route that would lead you home. It amazed you by the time you shut the door to your apartment that you hadn’t passed out. The way you still shakily sucked in breaths in quick succession hadn’t stopped, and your hands could barely keep steady as you fumbled with the locks on the door.

The work bag weighing you down was unceremoniously dropped to the floor, and you tiredly trudged to the kitchen table. Had you gone any longer without rest, you could’ve very well collapsed right there on the floor. Thankfully, you made it to a chair before then, burying your face into your arms that were folded over the table as you slumped against it.

Tired and weak sobs wracked your worn out body, and you let the steady stream of tears be soaked up in the sleeve of your hoodie. As for how your mind was fairing, you couldn’t really tell. Getting a grip on your wavering thoughts felt impossible. It was an uncontrollable back and forth between what had happened, and fleeting attempts to ground yourself.

That task of focusing on the present wasn’t something you could do alone, at least not at the moment. But the sound of your phone ringing could. Your heart stopped at the auditory intrusion, and hesitantly you pulled the device out of your pocket.

The caller ID had you relapsing, broken cries unable to be contained for a few seconds as you tried to figure out how to deal with this new and greatly unappreciated problem. Your eyes scanned over the buzzing and lit up device, reading over Shouta’s name repeatedly.

You let the call go to voicemail.

A moment of reprieve―and then the ringtone started for a second time.

With bated breath, you stared at the device. You could let it go to voicemail once again. You could blow it off as not being near the phone when you were inevitably questioned on the occurrence.

Or you could answer the damn thing now, and be done with the weight of the night.

On the final ring before the automated response kicked in, you pressed the ‘accept call’ button. In lifting the phone to your ear, the gruff and concerned voice of Shouta broke through before you could make any move to initiate the dreaded conversation first.

“Sorry to bother you, just checking to see if you got home safe. There was an incident in your area in case you weren’t already aware…”

The line went silent as you took a moment to collect yourself before giving a response.

You sucked in a deep breath, “I’m alright, thanks for calling.” The appreciative lilt in your tone was as genuine as you could make it. But the shakiness, the crack in your voice as you spoke―it was a dead giveaway.

“...Then why do you sound like you’ve been crying for hours? You need to tell me if something happened, (y/n).” Even with the way the phone call distorted his voice, the sternness still pierced your resolve as if he was standing right in front of you.

Your words were shaky as you felt a plethora of distressing emotions bubbling rapidly inside of you. “I said I’m fine, Shouta. You don’t need to―”

“Don’t lie to me. You know I’m only asking because I’m worried about you, alright? Clearly something’s wrong, just―tell me what happened.”

You wondered if he was aware of just how unfriendly he sounded while saying something like that. It was more so a harsh command for a response, rather than a gentle urge to inform him of your wellbeing. Like he was bothered with you trying to remain strong, and not burdening him with your problems.

That was your issue with Shouta―a hint of what you could only assume was annoyance lingered in his words where you were concerned. At least, that’s how it was when you were behaving in such a manner that didn’t comply with how he’d decided you should act. You’d seen him in a light that was enjoyable. When you first met him, or after he’d already chewed you out during those Saturday nights and thus no longer felt the need to pressure you on what truth you’d developed over your state.

Unfortunately, right now your state went against all those lies you told. An emotional wreck, beaten down by the hands of those too caught up in some captivating scene to take account of the consequences to their ignorance.

Determination was wavering in your mind, and if you didn’t end the call soon then the chance of making all the effort you’d put into keeping them from the truth would be for nothing.

“Really, everything is okay. Listen, I’m sort of busy right now…” You stifled a sob into a clenched fist, “I-I can’t talk at the moment, I’m sorry―I have to go.”

Your finger was flying to the ‘end call’ button as soon as the words left your mouth. His protests rang through the speaker, but exactly what he said was beyond you.

The line went dead, and your phone shut off. It clattered against the wooden table as you dropped it. Your hands lifted to rub the hot tears falling down your cheeks, full body tremors wreaking havoc as you remained seated.

In the silence of your apartment, your emotions settled into a static numbness. Your eyes remained trained on the table, mindlessly taking in the details of the wood’s grain. Whatever would happen as a result of you abruptly cutting off the conversation wasn’t a scenario you could formulate.

The screen on your phone remained black, and you made no move to turn it on. You never checked it for the time that was passing as you remained utterly drained at the kitchen table. Something in the back of your mind told you that yes―you could very well get up and go to bed. Or maybe you could bring yourself out of this empty feeling with a distraction.

You could even call Shouta back, perhaps apologize for behaviour that was out of your control...

...No, you couldn’t do that.

Possibilities of various actions presented themselves, and yet you remained unmoving. Your breath had steadied to a slow intake and outtake, disregarding the quivering that still persisted. You didn’t want to think about what had happened, so you didn’t think at all.

You settled into that state for an unknown amount of time. And it took a while, but slowly you could focus on the background noise around you. The air conditioner hummed from the vents against the wall, the thumping of footsteps from residents above you sounded off a couple of times.

Actually...there were more than just those few footsteps.

Still in a daze, you trained your weak focus on that sound. Distant, then coming closer. You turned your head to the front door of your apartment where they stopped.

Three loud raps against the frame. Firm, steady, and done with purpose.

Your heart sunk into your chest.

(End of part 6)

_____

Taglist: @roseloverofpastels @shinsous-eye-bags @tjhonoluluprezstitch626 @pekusofixus @riathearora @glitterypinkkitty @elektraeriseros @hadesnewpersephone @axolotleyeliner

[kae-karo]

"Are you labeling me? And not in the metaphorical fashion, you are literally putting a label on me." 

venti or zhongli?

hi i hope u know this gave me so many opportunities to write fun things and i must thank u so very kindly for this prompt dear!!!!

[send me a dialogue prompt from this list and a genshin character!]

tags: modern au but it’s in teyvat? TARTALI, osial and azhdaha make an appearance, also college professor au lmaoooo

----

“I simply do not understand these mortals’ newfangled technology…” 

Zhongli turns to find Osial tapping absently at his label maker, and he jumps when it begins to print whatever nonsense he’s typed. Zhongli exhales a long breath.

“While I do greatly appreciate your visit, could this not be done elsewhere?” Osial blinks up at him, pale ocean-blue eyes wide and innocent. “Somewhere that isn’t my office?”

Osial glances around as though surprised to find himself here. As though he and Azhdaha hadn’t purposely tracked down his office in this wing of the university building, determined his standard office hours, and arrived precisely when they knew he’d be here.

“You’re hard to find, Morax.” Zhongli glances over at where Azhdaha’s pulling books from his shelf at random, flipping through a few pages before returning them to their proper locations. From behind him, he hears the mechanical whirr of the label maker.

“I am not hard to find to those who know me.” He waves pointedly when Azhdaha glances up, orange-gold eyes flicking to meet his. A genuine smile touches his lips.

“No, but you did make us work for it,” Osial whines from behind him, and Zhongli glances over his shoulder. Ah, the ever-familiar pout and framed by a river of blue-white hair. Zhongli’s lip ticks up at the corner.

“I would never hide from you intentionally. You know my situation well enough.”

“No, we really don’t,” Osial says with a hint of amusement. “What could you possibly find so fascinating about...teaching?” His lip ticks up in an elegant grimace, then he turns to tap again at the label maker. He must find it fascinating in its own right, Zhongli supposes as he glances down at the pile of labels accruing on his desk.

“It makes perfect sense, actually.” Azhdaha, ever the one who knew his heart. “He’s always cared to pass our history on to mortals.” 

Osial hums at this, then takes a freshly printed label and peels off the back. Frowns at Zhongli, then takes his hand from where it hangs at his side. Presses a feather-light kiss to the back of it, then presses the label to the sleeve of his jacket.

"Are you labeling me?” Zhongli asks with raised brows. “And...not in the metaphorical fashion,” he adds at Osial’s soft, wide grin. “You are literally putting a label on me."

Zhongli huffs out an amused breath, reads the upside-down text. Boring Professor. He shakes his head, removes the label and tosses it in the trash. Osial gasps, and Zhongli glances up to find his hand over his heart. 

“You would so carelessly toss aside a hand-made gift from your-”

“Osial,” Azhdaha chides with a hint of amusement. “Really, Morax. It’s good to see you.” He steps away from the bookshelf, places a hand on Zhongli’s arm. Squeezes gently, so very gently for this mortal form he’s chosen to take. Really, he’s as tall as Zhongli and twice as broad. Zhongli nods his agreement.

“Forgive my impertinence, I am truly thrilled to see you,” he adds, to which Azhdaha only smiles. “And Osial,” he says as he turns. Osial quickly pulls his hand back, a label still stuck to one slender finger. Zhongli huffs out an amused breath as he tucks his hand behind his back. “I am equally glad to see you again as well.”

Osial’s eyes narrow, lips pursed in a pout, but he relents after hardly a moment and huffs out an exaggerated breath.

“Oh, fine.” Without warning, he sweeps Zhongli into an embrace, warm and smelling of the ocean. Zhongli lets his arms rest gently at his back. “I’ve missed you quite dearly, Rexy.” Zhongli shakes his head, but allows the abhorrent nickname. Osial will not change his ways anytime soon.

The door handle turns quite suddenly, then, and Osial pulls away, and Zhongli turns with a slightly forced expression of neutrality as-

“Xiansheng? Are we still- ah, am I interrupting a meeting?” Childe. A soft smile touches Zhongli’s lips, and it requires no force whatsoever.

“Professor Tartaglia, not at all.” Childe’s raised brows and wide eyes relax, and he offers a bright smile to Osial and Azhdaha. And to Zhongli.

“‘Professor Tartaglia’, such formality! Are you sure this isn’t a bad-”

“Please, forgive our intrusion,” Azhdaha interrupts with a gentle warmth to his tone. “We were just on our way out.” Zhongli turns just in time to catch his unsubtle smile, though he must hide it well enough from Childe. “Professor Zhongli,” he adds with a dip of his head before turning toward the door. “And Professor Tartaglia. A true pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Childe nods with earnest, though his gaze flicks back to Zhongli and it speaks of the confusion beneath his polite exterior. Osial, however, presses a hand to Zhongli’s shoulder before stepping between him and Childe, and Zhongli winces when he pulls Childe into a sudden embrace.

“Dear Tartaglia,” Osial starts, and Childe stares with wide, panicked eyes at Zhongli. Zhongli mouths my apologies as clearly as he can manage. “It is a great pleasure indeed, we are truly blessed to have encountered each other.” 

And with that, he sweeps away and past Childe, and the door clicks shut behind him.

“That was, ah...interesting,” Childe says with a tip of his head. Zhongli hums.

“They are interesting friends indeed,” he says with a laugh. “But I am glad for the good fortune that allowed you to meet them.” He leans back against his desk, and Childe takes a step closer. Tips his head, and frowns down at Zhongli’s arm…

Where a label seems to have gotten itself stuck, or rather...Osial. Zhongli shakes his head, lifts a hand.

Before it reaches his arm, Childe’s is already there. He pulls the label away, lifts it with a smirk.

“Ancient History. Did you get attacked whilst labeling?” he asks with a glance around the office, voice filled with a laughter that makes Zhongli’s heart soar.

“Something of the sort.” He shakes his head - he’d hardly noticed the brush of Osial’s hand evidently placing that particular label on him. He probably thought himself rather humorous, though Zhongli can’t quite say he isn’t amused himself.

“Well, I think it belongs there.” Zhongli laughs, shakes his head. He does not remove the label when Childe replaces it, when he pats Zhongli’s arm for good measure. Far be it for him to throw away such a gift. “Are we still on for lunch today?” Childe adds, waving a hand toward the door. 

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it,” Zhongli says as he brushes past and out the door. “The new Snezhnayan restaurant you speak so highly of?” Childe hums his agreement, steps out behind him.

“That’s the- oh.” 

Zhongli hums, glances back to find Childe standing especially close, his hand at Zhongli’s shoulder.

“Something the matter- ah.” He coughs out a breath of laughter as Childe pulls away another label. Osial, the menace. “And what does that one say, then?”

Childe stares at it for a remarkably long time, and Zhongli’s brows lift. What could that ocean-devil have written to make Childe-

“It’s nothing,” Childe chirps suddenly, sticks his hand - and the label - in his pocket. Zhongli’s brows lift at the sudden splash of pale pink on Childe’s cheeks. “We’d best be going, don’t want to miss our reservation, do we?” 

With that, he loops an arm through Zhongli’s and heads off down the hall, and Zhongli stares with mild amusement - and curiosity - at the grin that seems to take up permanent residence on Childe’s lips.

[a-dandelion-dreamer]

Books with Bisexual Characters

I’ve always been a book lover, and lately I’ve been taking note of some of the bi characters I meet along my journey. I thought I’d share some book recommendations.

First, In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan. I love this book so much—it’s honestly one of my favourites. It features a bisexual protagonist, Elliot Schafer, who goes across a wall into a magical, fantasyland and actively rebels against its war-like ways, choosing to draft treaties instead. He’s a snarky, grumpy, pacifist who has relationships with people of multiple genders throughout the course of the book. This book is super funny. Seriously, it made me laugh out loud on more than occasion. It also features truly phenomenal character development and explores the joys and trials of friendship between Elliot and his two best friends Luke Sunborn (the shy golden boy, born to a warrior family) and Serene-Heart-in-the-Chaos-of-Battle (a bold elf whose society’s gender roles are completely flipped). Shenanigans ensue.

A quote:

“‘Why is language in the Borderlands so weird? Some of it’s modern, and some of it’s medieval, and I guess that makes sense with the influx of a certain amount of new blood to the training camp every year, but how do some words and phrases transfer, while others don’t? Why do you know the word ‘jerk’ and not the word ‘bisexual’?’

‘I guess people say the first word more,’ said Luke.”

 Next, The Nevernight Chronicle by Jay Kristoff. This epic three book series features badass bisexual Mia Corvere. It’s dark, bloody and heart-breaking, with an endless series of twists. Mia’s parents were killed during their attempt to start a rebellion and her quest for revenge leads her to join a school for assassins. Follow Mia’s journey as she attempts to bring down the leaders of the Republic with her constant companion, Mister Kindly, the wise-cracking shadow-that-is-shaped-like-a-cat. I loved this series as well. It’s a very different tone from the recommendation above (don’t get attached to your faves!) and it’s marked as adult fantasy (be prepared for sex and violence), so be warned, but wow, is it a wild ride!

 Books by Ellen Kushner!!! I recently discovered her and I’m in love. Ellen Kushner herself is bi and has a wife who is also a writer. The two of her books I’ve read so far are Swordspoint (published 1987!) and The Privilege of the Sword. Both are fantasy of manners with bisexual duelists as protagonists. Swordspoint features Richard St Vier, an elite swordsman, as well as his close companion (and lover) Alec, a sarcastic scholar with a mysterious past. The Privilege of the Sword is set in the future of the same world, featuring a young girl named Katherine (who I love with all my heart) as she’s called by her uncle to the city to embark upon a path nontraditional to a lady, that of a swordsman. Both are excellent and super fun!

 The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee. Meet Lord Henry “Monty” Montague as he embarks upon a Grand Tour of Europe (the historical fiction version of a road trip) with his best friend Percy (who he’s hopelessly in love with) and his sister Felicity (who’s ace and has her own follow-up book which I also recommend – the Lady’s Guide to Petticoats and Piracy). Monty is charming, privileged, hilarious and the definition of a disaster bisexual. Follow along as the three of them stumble into hijinks and character development.

 Radio Silence by Alice Oseman. Our main girl Frances Janvier is a study machine whose only respite from academics is the fan art she draws for a podcast called Universe City. Then one day, the mysterious narrator asks her if she wants to collaborate. In a relatable turn, Frances is bi, but it’s just a part of her identity and the focus of the book is not a romance. Instead, it’s all about friendship and finding platonic soulmates and figuring out what you want to pursue in life. Alice Oseman’s writing is lovely and she tackles issues that feel very modern and relatable. I’ll also mention her webcomic (which you can find online for free) Heartstopper, which follows the romance between two boys Charlie Spring and Nick Nelson (and includes Nick’s bisexual crisis).

A quote:

“And I’m platonically in love with you.”

“That was literally the boy-girl version of ‘no homo’, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

 Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston. Speaking of bisexual crises, meet Alex Claremont-Diaz, whose mother is the President of the United States. His long-time rival, Henry, is a prince of England, and after an incident involving an expensive cake, the two are forced to fake a bromance for the sake of international relations. Actual romance blossoms instead.

 Kushiel’s Dart by Jacqueline Carey. In the land of Terre d’Ange, the motto is “Love as thou wilt”. Phèdre is a bisexual courtesan who receives pleasure from pain. Another adult fantasy (published 2001!), our heroine trains as a spy and is increasingly entangled in a web of politics and plots.

 The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater. This series is well-known, but I love it! Maggie Stiefvater’s prose is atmospheric, littered with small details that reward a reread, and her character relationships are complex. This series is a gem full of magical realism. Here’s a shout-out to our bisexual boy, Adam Parrish!

 Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo. Again, another popular book (part of a duology), but the hype is totally deserved! A diverse crew sets out on an impossible heist. Let’s send some love to two bisexual icons, Jesper Fahey and Nina Zenik!

A quote:

“If only you could talk to girls in equations.”

There was a long silence, and then, eyes trained on the notch they’d created in the link, Wylan said, “Just girls?”

Jesper restrained a grin. “No. Not just girls.”

 Those are some of my favourites that I’ve come across so far. Hopefully I’ll find some more! I’m always open to book recommendations, especially those that feature queer ladies :)

[just-come-baek]

get in, loser 2

Pairing: Taeyong x female!reader

Themes: smut | mafiaboss!taeyong | carthief!reader | streetracer!reader

Word count: 8.3k

Summary: As controversial as it is, it’s Taeyong’s order for me to participate in the most prestigious race of the underground. As one may expect, it is frowned upon by other gang members.

Warnings: disregard for police enforcement | illegal street racing | improper driving | violence | character death | taeyong being the ruthless mafia boss | poor stress management | drinking

A/N !REUPLOAD! sorry I fucked something up. Next parts shall be posted on Tuesdays every two weeks. 

***

Getting up early in the morning isn’t really my thing. I was the most productive during late evenings and nights, and the fact that I had to be ready unusually early fucked up my sleeping schedule. Hopefully, it was the first, and the last time my presence was requested at such an unholy hour. Right after getting introduced to my new workplace, they had to be flexible enough to let me adjust the work schedule to my preference.

Unfortunately, Taeyong didn’t specify how early Lucas wants to see me the next day.  I guessed it was around 7 o’clock in the morning – it was late enough for an early bird, yet early enough for someone who doesn’t really fancy getting up at sunrise.

Having parked my starling Fiat500 in front of the building, I saw a man. He was leaned against the brick wall, smoking a cigarette. It must’ve been Lucas. Who else could’ve been? It was the asscrack of dawn, for crying out loud!

“You’ve gotta be kidding me… that’s your car?” the man asked as he flicked the butt of the cigarette, stepping on it, grinding it against the ground, visibly galled by my cute feminine vehicle.

“It’s inconspicuous,” I commented, trying to make my point. Blending in after hours was one of the most crucial things in this profession, I didn’t want to go on and scream that I steal cars and race for a living.

“You’re late,” Lucas whispered. Under any other circumstances, I would roll my eyes, but right now, I just couldn’t. I was just staring at him, slowly checking him out. He was ridiculously handsome, and I tried my best not to drool. “I’m Lucas,” he said, sending me a playful smirk.

Politely, I introduced myself despite him already knowing who I was.

“That’s impressive,” Lucas commented, and I shrugged, not wanting to go through this once again. “How did you do it? It’s not that easy to steal Taeyong’s car, let alone Yuta’s,” he added, and I sighed, trying to come up with a vague and equivocal answer.

“What can I say? You’ve gotta have charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent.”

“Alright, I get it, keep your secrets,” Lucas voiced, biting his lips as if in deep thought. “Sooner or later, I’ll figure this out,” he promised and smiled, willing to take this secret with me to the grave. (I had a bad feeling in my gut, telling me Taeyong would be pissed if he found out the truth about the theft, and I was too cowardly to admit the facts.)

“Are we gonna stand here the whole day, or are you gonna show me around?” I challenged, and Lucas took a step to the side, gentlemanly letting me enter the car repair shop, following closely behind me.

“Ladies first,” he added, chuckling.

It wasn’t a typical car repair shop. The space was huge, and it could accommodate at least fifteen vehicles. On the inside, it resembled a car factory, but instead of assembling the cars, people were taking them apart.

What surprised me the most was the fact that I was the only female inside. Though I knew it was a stereotypically a male profession, men to women ratio was astounding. I didn’t mind it, though. I knew I could beat every single one of them. Gender didn’t matter at all.

“Let me introduce the guys you’ll be working with,” Lucas mentioned, and a few men stopped what they were doing to look at Lucas and me. “Please, meet Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Chenle, Jisung, Jaemin, and Mark,” Lucas introduced them to me, but they didn’t seem very happy to see me. If anything, they seemed a little bit hostile.

“Hi guys,” I said, smiling and waving at them, but their intimidating auras didn’t change. It was awful, and I couldn’t imagine how difficult it was going to work with them. They obviously didn’t like me and didn’t respect me as if worthy of the same position. And it was especially weird because I knew I was better than all of them combined.

Ignoring their angry glances, Lucas explained their roles in this division. Renjun, Haechan, and Chenle were in charge of tuning up the cars, making sure they’re up to the racing standards. Mark and Jaemin were stealing the cars and bringing them here, and Jeno and Jisung were racing. Later on, Lucas revealed I was assigned to both – car theft and racing, and of course, the boys had to voice their objection.

Apparently, they had never heard of multitasking.

According to them, it wasn’t fair for a rookie member to participate in the street races. This position had to be earned through hard work, and they just couldn’t comprehend how much effort I had put to prove my value to Taeyong.

Well… to be honest, I didn’t suspect any of the boys to ever personally talk to Taeyong.  I highly doubted they had an idea of what I had to go through to get recruited. They probably had never heard of Yuta, let alone been to his area and stolen one of his vehicles.

“I hope we will work together just fine,” I declared, though deep inside, I knew it wasn’t going to be a smooth ride. I was sure the boys were to make my time there miserable.

And, oh boy, I was right…

***

Somehow, I managed to survive a week at my new workplace without quitting. At some point, I was really close to doing so, yet then I remembered what I had gone through to work here, and this thought alone kept me going. The boys were an enormous pain in the ass, but it would definitely take much more than juvenile bullying to make me leave.

I was a lot of things, but definitely, not a quitter.

Having acted tough the whole week, I needed something to help me chill, and the only person I thought of was my best friend – Doyoung. I was a gang member now, but I knew it wouldn’t matter to him – it wouldn’t have any impact on our friendship.

Within an hour, I was already at his car repair shop. Not bothering to announce my arrival, I strolled inside, looking for him. It was already weekend. All of his employees were recharging their batteries for the upcoming week, so the slim pair of legs under the Nissan Maxima must’ve been Doyoung’s.

Smirking, I slammed my hands against the hood, startling him in the process. Swiftly, Doyoung rolled out from under the car, staring at me angrily, as if refraining himself from murdering me with bare hands.

“Jesus Christ,” he yelled when he saw my face, apparently relieved it was me. “Ever since I helped you with that gig, I have terrible anxiety,” he confessed, and I couldn’t blame him. I felt the same, fearing that someone might want to get rid of me with violence.

“Good thing I stopped by,” I mused, excited to reveal my amazing plans. “I was wondering if you would like to go on vacation with me – my treat. We haven’t spent all the money Taeyong gave me that time, and he hasn’t mentioned anything if he wants the rest of it back, so I thought we could go to the beach. What do you think?”

“More like Mr. Bad Boy’s treat… It does sound tempting, though. Where is the catch?” Doyoung asked suspiciously, knowing me all too well. “Are you on another stupid assignment?”

“Well… not exactly,” I answered, looking away, nervously playing with my fingers. “They’ve accepted me as the newest addition to the family, though some of them gotta warm up to me yet,” I explained, shrugging at the thought of the relentless bullying. “But that’s not the point. Taeyong told me to get rid of the car, and  I thought of kindly returning it to Yuta. It’s only logical I send him back the car plates, yet far from home because I don’t want anyone to trace it back to me.”

Judging by the look on Doyoung’s face, he wasn’t completely sold on this idea.

“It’s like killing two birds with one stone. We’ll go to the beach, post the plates to Yuta, and then enjoy the rest of the weekend, sipping drinks by the sea. It’s a two-minute risk-free adventure. What do you say? We both deserve some leisure…”

Staring straight ahead, Doyoung must’ve weighed all the pros and cons of my proposition. Ultimately he decided he deserves some alcohol drinks with cute little umbrellas in the glasses.

“What about the other car?” Doyoung asked, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“I’ll give it back as soon as we return.”

“Fine.”

“Great! Pack your suitcase, the plane takes off in four hours.”

As soon as we arrived, we made a short stop to mail the package to Yuta, praying for him not to trace it back to me. The parcel contained the Ferrari’s plates, a key to the storage room in Japan where Yuta’s vehicle had been kept, and a tiny piece of paper with a sorry written on it. Hopefully, once Yuta gets it back, he will forget about the car ever being stolen.

Later in the evening, we checked into the hotel I had booked, left the baggage, and hit the SPA. Having taken all available services, I was calm, I felt like a lotus flower. Doyoung, however, still was anxious and whiny.

“You need some vitamin D, my friend,” I told him, and he grimaced at me in disgust. “You know… there’s this man, his name is Jaehyun. He’s a guy from work, and I’m pretty sure he could help you let off some steam,” I offered, and Doyoung shook his head, sassily wrapping his lips around the straw, sipping on his third drink of the evening.

To be honest, I doubted Jaehyun swung for the same team, but both of them needed to get laid. Jaehyun because I was really close to start believing his gaze could be literally lethal, and Doyoung because he was so whiny and intractable to be around. I knew it wouldn’t ever work out, but I had to, at least, try.

“I appreciate the proposition, but I don’t hook up with gangsters,” Doyoung said, setting his drink on the counter. “You know what…” Doyoung started, and I rolled my eyes, knowing his further statement will be both funny and hurtful.

When tipsy, Doyoung would often state things harshly without even thinking about running around the bush. “Being your friend has become really stressful recently. It’s a matter of time until I go completely bold, and it will be exclusively your fault.”

“I know…” I agreed, sighing in helplessness. “I’ve been a terrible friend, I’m sorry,” I whispered, resting my head on Doyoung’s shoulder, reaching out to hold his hand. “I’ll never put you in danger again, I promise,” I added, acting way out of my character. Usually, I wasn’t this emotional, but I suspected it was coming from pretending to be badass all the time.

“OK, enough of the weeping, let’s buy some alcohol to go and go get drunk on the beach, waiting for the sunrise,” Doyoung pushed my off of his arm and jumped off the barstool.

“That’s the spirit!”

***

“Gather round people,” Lucas yelled as soon as he entered the car repair shop. As always, he looked like a complete snack, yet I chose not to comment on that. Though we barely spoke with one another, everybody knew how big his ego was, and I didn’t want to inflate it even more.

“What is it?” Haechan whined at Lucas, being annoyed by the interruption.

“The color festival,” Lucas revealed, and everybody grew silent at the mention of the event.

Though a regular person wouldn’t understand what’s that big of a deal, to a car racer, it was an event of the year. It’s an annual the most prestigious car race in the country – participation alone is an honor. It’s every racer’s dream to take part and win, earning a shit load of money and fame. The participation fee is 50 grand per head, after all. Every year the date is different, and only the best racers are talented enough to be a part of it. No wonder Taeyong’s gang will have its representative.

“It takes place this Friday, and Taeyong has already decided who’s gonna represent us this year,” Lucas announced, and the boys started to guess whether it would be Jisung or Jeno. If I had to nominate anyone, it would be Jeno – his drifting skills were no joke. “As I was saying, it’s Taeyong’s direct wish that our special snowflake represents us in the competition,” Lucas specified, and the boys looked at me the way Jaehyun did – with hatred and disgust.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” I chuckled drily, but the boys didn’t change their attitudes.

No way! Taeyong couldn’t… he wouldn’t. Well... I expected him to respect me after what I had done, but this… it was too much. Some drivers worked their entire lives mastering their techniques to participate, and right now, I felt as if I had my chance served on a silver platter. The boys must’ve felt the same way.

I deserved to participate, but Jeno and Jisung did as well. I wouldn’t mind sitting this one out. Their bullying was giving me a headache as it was, another reason to pick on me was the last thing I needed at the moment.

“It can’t be,” Jaemin stated, too perplexed to voice a longer statement.

“Well… it must be, Taeyong’s orders,” Lucas added with a smirk on his sexy lips, ignoring all complaints. “Guys, behave, it’s not my decision to make. You can always try next year,” he tried to console the whining boys, but it didn’t seem to work. If anything, it only multiplied the anger they felt towards me.

“It’s impossible,” I muttered, but the boys didn’t pay any attention to what I was trying to say, “I’m pretty sure it’s not final. I’ll talk to him, I think I can change his mind,” I continued, but once again my words were muffled by the loud white noise of complaining.

“You can’t just call him,” Lucas remarked, trying to remind me of my position in the hierarchy. Now, when I was a valid member of the organization, I had to follow the rules, and Lucas was my superior to whom I was obligated to report everything back. Talking to Taeyong would be highly unprofessional; I had to stick to the code.

“Can you try to persuade him?” Jisung asked, full of hope.

Lucas laughed at Jisung’s question as if it was one of the funniest things he heard in years.

“To be honest, I don’t give a fuck who’s gonna ride this year,” Lucas started truthfully, and I gasped at the harshness of his words. He didn’t sugarcoat nor beat around the bush. “It’s Taeyong’s decision, and I am in no place to question his choice, so beat it.”

His words successfully shut everyone up; Lucas was mean and straight-forward, but it had to be done. Perhaps his leading skills were a little bit rough around the edges, but they managed to get the work done.

“You,” Lucas exclaimed, looking at me. “Meet me here before the race; we’ll pick up the car,” he added, turning around, leaving me alone with the boys, so they could take out all frustrations on me.

“Fantastic.”

***

As expected, the boys, Jeno and Jisung in particular, were giving me hell. It was obvious they were unhappy with Taeyong’s decision, yet I shouldn’t be the receiving end of their relentless bullying. If I could, I’d pay Taeyong a visit and persuade him to change his mind, but just like Lucas said, I was on the very bottom of the gang hierarchy.

At this point, I’d call it quits. Unfortunately, I was too far in the game to bow out. Right now, I could only endure their harassment in hopes of quickly getting promoted, leaving them far behind. It wouldn’t be the most challenging thing I had done for the gang’s sake.

It was a Thursday night. Within 24 hours, I would compete in the most infamous race of the year, and I was beyond mortified. I had drunk half a dozen mugs of double lemon balm, yet the stress was still eating me from the inside out.

It was oddly quiet. Usually, at this time of night, something was going on, but tonight, it was silent. Without any white noise, one could hear a pin drop.

Everything suggested I was alone in the car repair shop. Having slammed down the hood, I wiped my hands in the cloth and looked around. Where was everybody? Did they forget to add me to their group chat? Did they go out for a drink without telling me?

I strolled through their stations, yet I didn’t find anybody. They really left me behind. That wasn’t cool. We weren’t best friends, but I deserved to know if there was a staff outing. Maybe this time around, I’d pass, given the plans I had for tomorrow, but any other time, I’d be down to have a beer with them.

Perhaps, they would warm up to me if we could spend some quality time together.

Once again, I looked around the space and decided to call it a day. There was nothing urgent that I had to finish, so I closed up. I really wanted to come back home, relax, and psych myself up for the upcoming race.

Yawning, I slowly made my way to my car, which was parked two blocks away from the car repair shop. Lucas had suggested it was for the best if the boys didn’t see my vehicle, since it would definitely become another reason to pick on me. Though I didn’t care what they thought of me, I ultimately decided to follow Lucas’ advice. He was my superior for a reason.

The narrow street was barely lit, yet I made my way through it with ease. I had the route memorized by heart, even though I wasn’t completely familiar with this city district.

Once the car conjured in my line of vision, I reached into my backpack, fishing for the keys.

Unfortunately, before I managed to find them, somebody grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me onto the ground. Stupefied, I looked up and saw half a dozen of persons, each of whom clad in a black hoodie and a face mask.

I was being mugged in a dark alley.

The survival instincts kicked in. The adrenaline rush hit me in a matter of seconds. Just like mothers who can lift cars to save their children, I was in a combat mode, ready to fight off all of them. I was outnumbered, but when driven on hormones, I thought I stood a chance to defend myself and kick their asses.

Quickly, I got back on my feet and took a few steps to the back to distance myself from the attackers and strategize my next move. My first idea was to run away, but that wasn’t going to work out. Two men with crowbars crept out of the shadows, depriving me of the only escape route I could think of.

“OK, think,” I whispered under my breath. There were seven of them, two of whom had crowbars, while one of them pulled out a knife. Seven against one, it didn’t sound fair. Back in the day, I had taken some self-defense lessons, but it was a long time ago. If I had some skills unconsciously memorized, they would surely be rusty.

Perhaps, I could bullshit my way out of it.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, but none of the men even flinched. They were frozen in their spots, probably waiting for the best moment to attack. “I don’t have any money on me, but I can give you my wheels,” I proposed, but once again, I didn’t get any reaction. “It’s a measly car, but I got it checked by a mechanic a few days ago. It’s as good as new.”

It was like talking to a wall. I could run my mouth, yet I would never receive any reply.

Plan A didn’t work out.

They weren’t cooperative enough for me to implement plan B.

I had no choice but to go with plan C, which consisted of fighting back, hoping they wouldn’t beat me to death. It wasn’t the most optimistic scenario, but it’s what my mind came up with after doing the math. It wasn’t a fair fight, what were the odds of me winning?

Close to zero.

When I was about to pick which guy I should attack first, the one in front of me made a cutting throat gesture. It did freak me out, but on cue, I ran up to the one with the crowbar and kicked him in the nuts before he managed to smack me with the metal. Instantly, he crumbled down on his knees, dropping the weapon on the ground.

It was my opportunity to try to even the chances.

Everything happened so fast. One second I was wiggling my body from side to side in an attempt to dodge the attack, while a moment later, I was swinging the crowbar like a baseball bat. In all honesty, I wasn’t that bad, I managed to omit most of their punches.

Unfortunately, there were too many of them. At this point, I knew I wouldn’t win. The least I could do was to try to minimize the damage.

Though I could feel a couple of bruises on my thighs forming up and my blood oozing from my shoulder, I gathered enough strength to swing the crowbar at the man, hitting him straight on the neck, knocking him out. As soon as the man’s head collided with the ground, everybody stopped in their tracks, trying to register what just happened.

They couldn’t believe that a woman successfully fought back. It was a small victory, though. Six more angry men wanted to mug me. Or rape me. Or worse.

“You bitch,” one of them yelled, going towards me with a knife as if he wanted to gut me.

I saw everything in slow motion. He ran to me, screaming, and I tightened my grip on the crowbar, getting ready to knock him unconscious, too.

Before he managed to get close enough for me to hit him, we all got blinded by the lights. There was another car in the alley, scaring the men away. In an instant, they picked up their stunned friend and ran away, disappearing in the distance.

My vision couldn’t accommodate this amount of light, so I couldn’t precisely see my savior. Unfortunately, I was unable to see the person behind the wheel, but the vehicle looked like a Ford. Too bad it drove off before I could have a better look.

Worrying the thugs might return, I limped to my car and locked myself in. My pulse was slowly getting back to normal, and the adrenaline was wearing off, making me feel the pain. Each bruise and cut was hurting me, but I inhaled, flooring the accelerator.

***

When I woke up around noon, I was sore all over. Though I had taken some painkillers and put on ointment on the fragile skin, I still felt like shit. I wasn’t the best at treating wounds, and I discovered this fact about myself in the worst timing ever.

How was I supposed to win the most meaningful race of the year when I felt excruciating pain when I had to stretch my arm? How was I supposed to operate the gearbox in this state?

By the time I had to leave my apartment, I felt only slightly better. High on meds, I drove carefully to the car repair shop, expecting Lucas to already be there. It was typical Lucas – giving vague instructions, yet at the same time, demanding precision, or in this case, punctuality.

Gingerly, I parked the vehicle outside the garage, noticing Lucas leaned against the wall, smoking what I hope was just a cigarette. Putting a smile on my face, I undid the seatbelt and exited the car, waving at my superior.

“What the hell are you wearing? Are you going to a race or Lazytown?” Lucas yelled, amused by my outfit. I could bet it wasn’t a typical outfit for street-racing.

Tonight, I chose to wear a pastel pink wig that reached down to my shoulders, a mini dress in the same shade of pink, and a pair of white combat shoes. I had my reasons to wear this type of clothing, though.

First of all – diversion; I hoped the other contestants would underestimate me upon seeing my eccentric outfit. Looks might be deceiving, and at this point, I couldn’t wait to bask in the glory of their judging stares. In this outfit, no one would think of me as a threat.

Second of all – bruises; no one paid them any attention because all the curious gazes were focused on extravagant clothes. Moreover, I could apply another layer of ointment if needed because the skimpy outfit allowed me easy access to my bare skin.

Third of all – Taeyong; pink was his favorite color and it matched his current hairstyle. It was a bold statement to demonstrate whose gang I was representing in the race.

“The outfit is going to serve its purpose, so let me live,” I murmured, not in the mood for friendly banter. Lucas was ridiculously hot, and I respected him, but right now, I didn’t feel like joking around. “What car do you have for me?”

Lucas pulled the sliding doors to the side, letting me in, following right behind me. Though I tried to control my walk, Lucas quickly caught on.

“What’s happened? Why are you walking like that?” Lucas asked in concern, and I told him everything about the men, their attempt to mug me, and the savior. I didn’t even fail to mention how I knocked one of the guys out with a powerful hit in the neck. “I don’t really think it was some random dudes,” he concluded, taking a closer look at my bruises and cuts.

“Huh?” I mused in confusion.

“I think someone wanted to make sure you’re not participating in the race,” Lucas stated. I creased my eyebrows, unable to make sense out of his suspicion. It was ridiculous. Though I knew how to race, my name wasn’t widely known in the illegal underground racing circle. “It can’t be a coincidence you’re getting attacked one night before the event.”

Well… Lucas had a point.

“Can you race?” Lucas inquired, his voice coated in worry.

I did not expect that, but it felt nice. Lucas, being my superior, looked after me, and it was the first time I felt like a legitimate member of the gang.

“I’ve taken a lot of pills, I can pull through,” I stated, smiling half-heartedly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, though I could already feel the medication wear off. This insignificant setback wasn’t going to stop me. I had something to prove.

“Alright then,” Lucas said, following me to the back. “Taeyong has personally chosen these cars. You can pick any of them,” he added, and I looked at the beautiful machines in amazement. “Oh, before I forget, he also said you get to keep it if you win.”

“For real?” I asked, and Lucas nodded, smiling at my reaction. “Sweet.”

Now, I really had to win.

Taeyong had selected three vehicles for me to use: BMW M2, Toyota Supra, and Porsche 718 Cayman. The three of them were white and shiny, and it was a real dilemma.

“Tough choice,” I whispered, struggling to make the ultimate decision. Each vehicle had incredible features, and it was impossible to pick the best one. It felt like having a birthday on the same day as Christmas.

“Be quick, we’ve got to go,” Lucas urged me, tapping his foot against the concrete floor impatiently. “Make up your mind, woman.”

“OK, fine, fine, let’s go with Toyota,” I answered, and Lucas put his hand into the pocket of his jeans, fished out three sets of keys, and threw one for me to catch.

“Let’s go, then,” he added, quickly making his way to the passenger seat.

“How does it feel like to win such a race?” I inquired, breaking the silence inside the car. I was speeding to the abandoned airport, while Lucas was texting with somebody, completely ignoring me. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to bond with him, but I couldn’t help my curiosity. Three years ago, being the youngest participant, Lucas had won the race, and I really wanted to know how it felt to make history.

Who knew? Maybe I’d be the first woman to win this race this year.

“Fine, I guess,” Lucas answered dismissively, not wanting to engage in the conversation.

“Oh,” I sighed, deciding not to pry further. We would have other opportunities to talk about it.

Once we arrived, Lucas told me to park the vehicle on the start line. The race would start in an hour, and until then, I had to mingle with other drivers and make my presence known. It was time for the rich men to make their bets.

“Hmm… that’s strange,” Lucas commented when I turned off the engine. “Taeyong’s here.”

“Is that strange?”

“He hasn’t attended such an event ever since he had won it five years ago,” Lucas explained, and I nodded my head, registering the new information. When Lucas put it like that, it really seemed out of character. “Interesting,” he added, deep in thought.

When Lucas got out of the car, I searched for Taeyong in the crowd. Thankfully, it wasn’t that difficult. This time around, Taeyong was wearing a green tracksuit set, thick-rimmed black Fendi sunglasses, and a pair of simple white sneakers. With his pink-ish hair and a custom-made Dior purse loosely hanging off his shoulder, he did not fit in this picture packed with gangers. Taeyong looked like a stray 4-year-old who got lost in a dangerous alley.

Following Lucas’ example, I exited the vehicle, and leaned against the hood, posing as a confident yet quirky driver. Though I expected everyone to underestimate my skills, deep inside, I wished to be recognized as a serious competition.

Looking around, I stared at Taeyong and deliberately ignored Jaehyun’s death glares. Even from afar, I could sense he hated my guts. I suspected I was the reason why Taeyong was here right now, and Jaehyun was unmistakably displeased by it.

With my eyes locked on Taeyong, I noticed Lucas joined him and whispered something into his ear. Whatever Lucas had told him, it made Taeyong visibly angry.

“Attention racers,” a female voice spoke through the speakers, obtaining everyone’s attention. “The race shall begin in thirty minutes. We ask all racers to pick up the GPS device box at the judge’s lounge. Thank you for your attention and good luck.”

Every participant had to install the device in one’s car. Once set in the vehicle, the racer could see this year’s route and all checkpoints. The fastest one to clear all the checkpoints and come back to the airport would win the competition.

Following all the instructions, I got ready for the race. In a few minutes, twelve cars would leave the airport in an attempt to chase their dreams of fame and success.

I was sitting comfortably in my seat, and though on the outside, I seemed calm, the courtesy of painkillers, I was freaking out internally. I didn’t even notice someone knock on the window, making me jump in shock.

“Jesus Christ, Lucas, you scared the shit out of me,” I cursed, rolling down the window.

“I just wanted to wish you good luck,” he added, smiling genuinely. “I spoke with Taeyong, and he would like to talk to you after the race in his mansion.”

“Oh.”

And with that, Lucas walked away, letting me relax some more before the race. I just had enough time to turn on my playlist, which consisted of Britney Spears’ biggest hits. It always helped me to uplift my mood, and I really needed that.

“Three,” the woman counted out loud, and all participants turned on their engines.

“Two.”

“One.”

At once, all the cars surged forward, and people cheered enthusiastically, not even muffling the loud engine roars.

The route had seven checkpoints in total, and since the race was called the color festival, each stop was named after the rainbow color. There was no specified order in which the contestants ought to clear them, yet most of them chose to drive east, toward the indigo checkpoint.

I, on the other hand, decided to head west. The more drivers in one area, the more chances of dirty tricks, and I didn’t want to end up getting pushed out of the route into the gutter.

Only four racers mirrored my actions, and out of the five of us, I was leading. With ease, I cleared the green checkpoint, but one Britney song later, the driver of the red 2020 Lexus SC caught up to me, driving straight into my back left lights, making me lose control of the vehicle for a second. Thankfully, I managed to get a hold of the situation before I drove into the dangerous turn.

This bastard scratched my car and cleared the yellow checkpoint before me.

I couldn’t let him get away with it.

Flooring the accelerator, I quickly found myself on the right side of the Lexus, staring at the driver. I recognized him in an instant. It was Felix, and he was infamous for dangerous driving. It didn’t matter how many drivers he had to send to the hospital to win the race.

Perhaps, it would be reasonable to let him be, but I was high on meds, and the logical solution fled my mind before I managed to memorize it. The only sensible reaction I could muster in the heat of the moment was hitting him before he hit me again.

Sticking my tongue out for Felix to see, I abruptly turned to the right, pushing him out of the road. Unfortunately, I didn’t hit him hard enough. Before I drove into another sharp turn, I saw him in the rearview mirror. He was back on the lane, trying to catch up with the rest of the participants.

“Too high, can’t come down, losing my mind, spinning ‘round and round, do you feel me now?” I sang along with Britney, driving through the blue checkpoint.

I was almost halfway through the race, and it was about the time when I ran out of luck. I could hear a loud siren ringing in the distance, followed by red and blue lights. It couldn’t be a good sign. Competing against lunatics was challenging, yet on top of that, I had to lose the police.

My first thought was to let the other drivers catch up to me, and then hope the police would chase them, but I quickly realized it was a dumb idea. The racers would out-speed the police cruisers anyway; it was stupid to purposefully slow down.

The next checkpoint was near, and it was my priority. I’d deal with the police by the end of the race. Of course, only if the police cruisers could handle such speed. It was doubtful, but I chose not to underestimate them.

“Fuck, it can’t be,” I cursed when I noticed the red Lexus again. “He is stubborn,” I added, once again flooring the accelerator, trying to keep as much distance from Felix as possible. This car would be mine if I won, and I didn’t want any more damage.

Then, a few seconds later, another car appeared a couple of hundred meters behind me.

Too bad the police were too incompetent to catch them. The sirens were still ringing in the distance, so it only meant they didn’t give up yet. I didn’t think they stood a chance against any of the sports cars in the race, but it was admirable that they still tried.

The red checkpoint was a couple meters ahead, and I reasoned I needed to step up my game. In order to win, I had to think out of the box. I had to do something they wouldn’t dare. I couldn’t play it safe if I really wanted to win.

Having cleared the red checkpoint, I made a U-turn without slowing down. If it wasn’t for the breaks, the force would pull me out of the lane, sending me flying off the cliff. Felix and the other guy were visibly confused when I started driving right at them.

Going over 180 km/h, I passed them and the police cruiser before I made an abrupt turn, driving through run-down, abandoned properties. Very few people knew this short-cut, and I hoped it would give me the advantage I desperately needed.

With no problem, I cleared the orange checkpoint.                

Only two more to go, I told myself, trying to uplift my mood.

The violet checkpoint resembled a war zone. Three cars were sitting on the side of the road, all scratched and damaged. Compared to this psycho who had done it, Felix was a harmless kitten. Thankfully, he hadn’t chosen to follow the same path as me. It made me sick to think I could be inside of one of these wrecked cars.

Or it was the meds overload in my system.

I couldn’t be sure.

Having passed the final checkpoint, I noticed a sports car. It was heading the same direction, so I concluded it was one of my rivals. The neon green Porsche Boxter was behind me, but it was catching up incredibly fast.

I had to get my shit together, or I was going to lose.

I could see the finishing line in the distance. Unfortunately, the green Porsche was right there, on my left side. Neither of us wanted to lose, and almost at the same time, we turned, smashing against each other. Sparks were flying everywhere, the sound of scratching metal was ringing loudly, yet no one dared to let go.

If I didn’t push him out of my way, we would tie, and this result was unacceptable. With my foot on the accelerator, I turned the steering wheel to the right as hard as I could. The vehicle barely moved to the side, yet it was still making progress.

Maybe it was pure luck, but the Porsche ran over something on the road, and its driver lost control of the car. It was my time to shine, so once again I turned to the right. The vehicles made a 90-degree turn, which resulted in me being the first one to cross the finishing line.

Oh my god, I won.

These guys could suck it because I beat them!

When I got out of the car, Taeyong and Jaehyun were gone. Lucas was the only familiar face in the crowd, and he actually ran up to me to congratulate me. “You won,” Lucas said, beaming. His smile quickly faded away upon seeing how wrecked the car was. “It was a new car,” he cried, calculating the damage.

“It’s still new,” I remarked, but Lucas didn’t find it amusing. Well… I could relate. After all, it was my car. I knew the second the painkillers wear off, I was going to in pain because of what I did to the vehicle. Hopefully, Doyoung would help me get it fixed.

A lady in a deep-cut bikini and sun-kissed tan walked up to me to hand me a bag of cash and a bottle of champagne.

“Everybody, make some noise for this year’s winner,” she screamed into the microphone, making the crowd go crazy.

I was smiling like a lunatic. People were cheering, and it was all for me.

Though I was craving champagne, I knew it wasn’t the best idea to drink it. The pills mixed with alcohol would kill me, so I opted for an alternative celebration. Swinging my arm, I threw the bottle at the car, smashing it against the scratched doors.

“Christening the car seemed appropriate,” I commented when I saw Lucas trying to process what I just did. “At this point, one more tear doesn’t make a difference.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Lucas said lifelessly, staring with concern at the vehicle. “You better go. Don’t keep Taeyong waiting. He’s not a patient person.”

***

Having parked in front of Taeyong’s big ass mansion, I made my way to the main entrance and rang the bell. The doors opened a few seconds later, and Jaehyun looked at me from head to toe, stepping to the side, letting me in.

It was my first time in Taeyong’s palace, and the interior was breathtaking. Everything looked expensive, and everyone must’ve felt the wow effect during their first visit. Though I knew he had a shit load of money, witnessing his wealth first hand was an unforgettable experience.

“Stay here, I’ll get Taeyong,” Jaehyun ordered, and I smiled sheepishly, not wanting to mess with someone who could easily murder me. “Don’t touch anything,” Jaehyun added as he turned around, catching me red-handed on trying to brush my fingers against the sculpture, which was set on a coffee table.

Two minutes later, Taeyong joined me in the spacious living room.

“Lucas told me you won,” he spoke as he plopped down onto a leather couch, putting his hands into the pocket of his disgusting green tracksuit. “Good job.”

“Is that why you wanted to see me? To congratulate me?” I asked out loud, wanting to smack myself the moment the words left my mouth. Of course, Taeyong didn’t want to congratulate me; he had invited me to his mansion before the race even began.

“No,” he replied shortly, and I smiled sheepishly, trying to forget this incident. “You know what I will never tolerate?” Taeyong asked, and I sighed in thought.

“I don’t know… Hmm… it’s a wild guess, but is it Hawaiian pizza?”

“No,” Taeyong denied, smirking at my random guess. “I will never tolerate treason, doll.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to figure out what he meant. I hadn’t done anything to betray him, yet he still somehow found something to punish me for. No way, it wasn’t possible. Had he figured out how I really had stolen Yuta’s car?

Fuck.

“Come on, doll. Let me show you,” Taeyong whispered, standing up. With his eyes on me, he smiled and stretched his hand. Anxiously, I let him hold his palm around mine as he led me to the basement.

It wasn’t a good omen.

Despite all of my achievements, Taeyong was going to kill me.

“The pink really suits you,” Taeyong spoke out of the blue when we slowly made our way downstairs. “I really like this hair on you,” he added, playing with the ends of my wig.

“Thanks, I was hoping you’d like it,” I answered, trying not to show how intimidated I was.

“Oh, I do, doll,” he smirked, pushing a pair of big pine doors open, stepping to the side, letting me in first.

Inside the room were seven men tied to the chairs with a piece of cloth wrapped around their eyes. Since there was only one light bulb, it took me a while to recognize them.

They were my colleagues from the garage. What the hell were they doing here? Why had Taeyong imprisoned them? What had they done? It was them who had betrayed Taeyong? No, it didn’t make any sense. He wouldn’t have invited me if it was about them.

“I don’t understand…” I commented, my eyes focused on the tied men in front of me. The moment when I looked at Jisung, I saw a wound on his neck.

Then it hit me.

It was them.

They had tried to kill me last night.

“As I said, I cannot tolerate treason,” Taeyong voiced as he began to rip the makeshift blindfolds off their faces. “Working against the gang is unacceptable, and you dared to hurt one of your own,” he spoke, and I trembled, afraid to witness what’s going to happen next. “Who came up with this stupid plan?”

Silence.

“Alright then,” Taeyong concluded through gritted teeth. It was the first time I saw him this angry, and I was scared. I’d shit my pants if I were the reason for his wrath. “Come here, doll,” he ordered, wanting me to join him. “Pick your weapon,” he told me, and I looked at him in confusion. What did I need a weapon for?

I looked to the right and saw pegboard tool storage on the wall. It was an impressive collection of torture weapons, and Taeyong wanted me to use them on the traitors. It was wrong on so many levels, and I really didn’t want to do it, but the perspective of wronging Taeyong seemed even worse. I would rather hurt them than let Taeyong hurt me.

“We don’t have a whole night, doll,” Taeyong urged me, and I grabbed the first thing which was in my arms’ reach. It happened to be a hammer. “Excellent choice; who should we punish first?” Taeyong asked, resting his arm over my shoulder, smiling like a maniac. Without any doubt, it was to bring him a lot of pleasure.

“I don’t know…”

“Alright, then,” Taeyong smiled in amusement before he started to sing the eeny, meeny, miny, moe counting rhyme to select the first victim. At first, I didn’t look, but once Taeyong stopped singing, I opened my eyes to see that his finger was pointing at Haechan.

“Do what you gotta do, doll,” Taeyong ordered happily, leaning against the wall, making sure he had the best view at the scene unfolding in front of him.

I wanted to cry, but I tried my best not to. As a part of a gang, it was inappropriate to show vulnerability. I didn’t want Taeyong to revoke my membership, especially when the only way to leave the gang was through excruciating death.

“Where should I start?” I asked myself under my breath, having no idea how torturing worked. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a way of inflicting the least amount of pain, while maintaining the expected level of Taeyong’s satisfaction.

Having closed my eyes, I swung my arm, hitting Haechan’s palm with the hammer, making him groan in pain. “You bitch,” he cursed, and I repeated the blow a couple of times until his hand looked like a smashed pomegranate.

Haechan was yelling in pain, Taeyong was chuckling in amusement, and I tried my best to refrain myself from crying. Though I didn’t particularly like Haechan, and he had been a real pain in the ass with the bullying, he didn’t deserve such punishment. How was he supposed to work at the garage without his dominant hand? His career was basically over. It was a dick move to attack me, and though I was awfully petty, the punishment was too severe.

“Who came up with this stupid plan?” Taeyong questioned again, yet none of the boys dared to speak. Not even Haechan, who was in a tremendous amount of pain. “Here, hold this,” he added, handing me a baseball bat, “I got bored of the hammer.”

Obediently, I grabbed the baseball bat and hit Haechan in the stomach until he started coughing blood on my pink dress. “What the fuck?” I cursed, getting angry at the minor inconvenience.

“Stop it, you’ll kill him,” Jisung yelled, trying to shimmy himself out of the ties. “I did it. I told them to beat her up. She didn’t deserve to ride in this race,” he carried on, and Taeyong sighed, walking up to Jisung nonchalantly with his hands loosely tucked in the pockets.

“It wasn’t that hard, was it?” Taeyong asked as he bent a little and caressed Jisung’s chin. “I really appreciate your honesty,” he added before he pulled out a gun and shot him in the head.

It was hard to process, but he really did shoot Jisung.

“Good job, doll,” Taeyong congratulated me with a smile before he fired his gun once again, this time shooting through Haechan’s forehead. “What? He was useless without his hand anyway,” he commented upon seeing my shocked reaction.

“You’re not gonna kill them, are you?” I quietly asked as I leaned against Taeyong’s frame, clinging to his chest. None of them deserved to die, yet I hoped Taeyong would spare the remaining five.

“No, I think it was enough for them to learn their lesson,” Taeyong revealed, and I sighed in relief, glad the bloodshed was over. It was the first time I saw somebody get killed, and it was a morbid sight. I wouldn’t mentally handle the situation if he decided to murder them all.

“Can we go now? The blood makes me sick,” I confessed, and Taeyong once again wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulled me to his side, and led outside. Surprisingly, regardless of what I had seen a while ago, his hug felt genuine. “I have a question, though.”

“Shoot.”

“How did you know it was them?”

Taeyong smirked, “who do you think was in that car that scared them off?”

“You?” I asked, cocking up my eyebrow, trying to process the newfound information.

“No, what I would be doing there?” Taeyong denied, making me even more confused. “I told Jaehyun to pick you up and bring to my mansion. However, when he saw you were attacked, he drove off and hunted them down.”

“I guess I owe him big time.”

[worstloki]

Part 1

--[official naming and legal rights ceremony for Morgan]--

Tony: you know what would be really funny? Pepper: Tony... Tony: THINK about it Pep- how can you say no to this once in a lifetime opportunity? Pepper: Rhodey and Steve. We already decided. Tony: ok fine. FINE! I'll just give up the chance for our daughter to have two literal powerhouses watching over her Pepper: one of them isn't even alive! Tony, signing the paperwork: he was the dodgy one anyways! Pepper: oh g*d tell me you didn't Tony: too late. our daughter's got 1 thunderer and 1 deceased trickster listed as her ~*godparents*~ and no punishment you come up with will ruin this moment for me Pepper: its fine, this is fine, it wont even be legally binding since you can't have two male godparents listed so its invalid anyways, haha this is fine, everything is fine,,, Tony: i actually heard from Thor that Loki could be female if they wanted... Pepper: ... Pepper: TONY!! -- [later] -- Rhodey: dude did you seriously put LOKI down as a legal guardian for your kid instead of me Tony: well I wanted Thor but he insisted that I put Loki down too... something about honouring Asgardian tradition...? Rhodey: tradition is fine but isn't he DEAD? Tony: sure Thor thought he was dead 5 years ago, then again 4 years ago, and then again 2 years ago... but if he was alive he would have already, statistically speaking, shown up by now Rhodey shaking his head fondly: okay i forgive you for replacing me with Thor and his deceased brother, but the next kid has my name on it. I've already called dibs with no takebacks, okay? Tony: one kid is already keeping me busy enough, honeybear... 

---[3 years later]---

Tony: And. I. Am. Iron Man... *snaps* Thanos' army: *disintegrates* Tony: *taking his last breathes* Pepper: you can rest now... Loki: *shoves Pepper aside and pulls the gauntlet off Tony* Pepper and Rhodey and Peter who were standing around tony: LOKI ?!? Dr Strange: no SToP you cant juST do THAT- Loki, taking out the time stone: why not Dr Strange: if you change anything now it'll ruin the timelines!!! Loki, reversing time on Tony and bringing him back to life: that's not how time works, Dr. Supreme Dr Strange: It’s Strange, and- Loki: Yes, I agree, it is strange that you decided to let Earth's best hero die when literally every infinity stone is rigHT HERE Dr Strange: but its wrong to misuse their pow- Loki: Then it’s a good thing I'm evil and don't care Dr Strange: buT- Loki: no need to worry, I'm only helping you heroes out this one time because apparently while I was stardust Tony chose to give me partial ownership over his child so now i am bound to care for it  Pepper, remembering that Loki is legally Morgan’s godparent: oh my g*d   Rhodey: well, I bet Tony didn't expect this Tony, speaking in his sleep: frickity frackity Loki, looking at Tony disapprovingly: I agree.  --[a week later]-- Tony: okay, so like, i don't want to seem ungrateful for you saving my life, but i only wrote your name down to get Thor - Loki, annoyed: Yes I figured as much Tony: -yes but if you've saved my life I was wondering exactly how bound you are to help and how far you're willing to go to watch over her Loki: does this have anything to do with the 18+ end-of-the-world-celebration party at the end of the week? Tony: maybe Loki: *stares at him* Tony: ...okay, yES… do you think you could make sure Morgan is alive and well and safe while I go? It’s clear you don't appreciate being forced to be her godparent so if you do it I'll even get your name off the legal documentation by the end of the week and you can leave after Loki: If you so much as try to remove my name when it is THOR that has been neglectful of his duty and has been ignoring the implications of having a child under their name then I will have no choice but to hit you over the head with stormbreaker Tony: oh. okay. no name removing then that's cool i guess just please don't smite me or i'll dob to thor that you're going to try touching his shiny axe and have are regressing on your journey to goodness  Loki, pulling stormbreaker out of his pocket dimension: I’m afraid you’re too late to warn him about the potential theft of his favourite beer opener. I will, however, watch Morgan over both days of the party, IF I also get put in charge of the spider child and Wakanda's princess Tony, doing his best to ignore the huge axe: how do you even know about them, weren't you snapped for the past 5 years?? Loki: I understand that they're not allowed to attend the party either and will not have any parents or guardians available to care for them at the time... Tony: you're not going to try any funny business right...? even if you wont hurt Morgan how do i know you wont lay a hand on the others?? I cant just trust you to watch over a bunch of kids no matter how much bruce and thor vouch for your sanity Loki: you can trust I wouldn't risk scarring Morgan like that if you don't trust i wouldn't intentionally attack a bunch of literal children Tony: hmm okay I guess I’ll just cross my fingers and hope you don't relapse into villainy  Loki: wonderful. inform the children that I will pick them up 2 hours before the time of the party. Tony: need me to get you a ride? Peter lives close but Shuri lives just a tad bit out of walking range Loki: no thanks I'll be fine

---[at the party]---

Pepper: YOU LEFT HIM ALONE TO CARE FOR MORGAN?! Tony: he’s been doing a fine job of it while we’re around, and besides, it’s not like I left her with him alone or anything! Pepper: No, of course not Tony, that would be too simple, no, you left LOKI in charge of not JUST our child but also Peter, and the PRINCESS of Wakanda too Pepper: do you have any idea how badly this could work out?! putting aside the political disaster that would occur if something happened to Shuri the ethical considerations alone make strangling you very tempting right now Rhodey: Pepper, Tony would never do anything to put Morgan or Peter or even Shuri in danger... he knows they're kids, right Tony? Tony: Peter can benchpress a mag-lev and Shuri can design one in 60 seconds flat. I’m not concerned because they'll be fine even if he does try to pull off anything even 2% evil! Pepper: *not impressed* Tony: some sort of Asgardian binding magic was involved so he literally cant try to inflict any harm on Morgan, and that includes emotional distress just for the record, believe me, i checked Rhodey: what do you mean 'i checked', what did you do man Tony: Morgan wanted ice pops the other day so i told her to ask Loki Pepper: TONY he's a WAR CRIMINAL Tony: so anyways Morgan went up to the ally we’re kindly hosting - who literally takes residence on whichever couch is closest to Morgan by the way and it’s super funny to watch him move between couches every time she leaves the room - and he's reading when she asks if he'll get an ice pop with her Tony: and I've tried talking to him when he's reading and it does NOT end well Pepper: and you sent MORGAN to do it anyways?? Tony: and he said no at first, which was predictable, right? but then Morgan got sad and a bit teary-eyed and she asked again and when he saw she was sad he literally jolted in pain and he put the book aside and got up so fast to immediately lead her to the freezer to get some  Rhodey: so, what? he physically cant say no to Morgan or some wacky voodoo thing compels him? Tony: That is the conclusion I have come to with my findings, yes. It seems he can’t intentionally do anything to hurt her in any way. So Morgan and her new friends are completely safe, sweetie. Pepper: I'm leaving to make sure she's doing okay... Tony: I also installed cameras just to make sure no one gets murdered without thorough evidence to convict him, if that helps? Pepper: If you can get the live feed to go to my phone I'll consider staying Tony: deal.

--meanwhile, in Tony's house--

[Peter Shuri Morgan and Loki are wrapped up in blankets and watching The Hobbit. Loki is doing some paperwork and Morgan is drinking orange juice while Peter and Shuri share some popcorn] Peter: so are we going to talk about how we're watching a movie with the person who attacked New York with an alien army a few years ago or not Shuri: he was not acting of his own volition so i thought we were excusing that Loki, looking up: you are literally the first person to have mentioned that Peter: but Mr. Stark said that-- Shuri: footage of the 2012 attack conclusively showed that his eye colour changed before and after he had been subdued the final time, which was a phenomenon associated only with being under the influence of the sceptre containing the mind stone  Peter: he does magic though! it could be a trick or the cameras could've been too grainy to tell Shuri: They weren't. But the changes in his behaviour and speech patterns also indicate that he was being controlled or at least coerced to some extent. He's also sitting next to us doing paperwork and watching Bilbo sneak around a dragon. Loki: Congratulations, you are officially the only person from this planet for whom I can confidently vouch is not a- *covers Morgan’s ears* -complete imbecile. Shuri: Thank you. Peter: well, she is a genius Shuri: Yes I am, in fact I'm a genius that has the approval of Loki, which is even better, because I'm assuming he'll have some neat ideas on how to make a fool of T'Challa in my lab on camera more often Loki: I may have some experience in the making-a-fool-out-of-my-brother department Shuri: wonderful! we can brainstorm after the movie :) Peter: I don't have a brother to prank :( Loki: I can fix that Peter: ...what Shuri: yeah, what?? Loki: oh I meant that if you wanted I could legally become your godparent and then you'd have Harley and Morgan as prankable siblings Peter: you know what? I'm actually considering it Shuri: how angry do you think T'challa would be if I made Loki an official Wakandan by saying he's my godfather because I think that would get a hilarious reaction out of him Loki, nodding: According to Asgardian tradition claiming a godchild forms an irrevocable bond and he would have to accept that his sister has someone who pulls off legendary pranks keeping her safe from any attempts at his retaliation Peter: that’s so cool and i'm definitely accepting your offer Shuri: and I'm joining in because i have a folder filled with evidence that Loki was mostly innocent of the New York attack but some videos of us together pulling off harmless pranks would make fine contributions to it Loki: wonderful! Loki, holding out documents and a pen: just sign here, there, and there, Peter: wait you've been sitting next to us filling out godchild adoption forms this whole time??? Loki: well actually I started out filling out the godparent-removal forms because Thor is an irresponsible buffoon and i refuse to share custody with him Peter: do you think i could get ~*Thor*~ to adopt me- Loki: Nopity nope. Too late. You've already signed the forms so you're stuck with me, and I refuse to share any of my friends with him Peter: aww you called us your friends Loki: you have no proof i said that Shuri, pointing to the camera in the corner of the room: but that hackable camera does >:) [peter jumps over the sofa and is going to retrieve the camera for shuri to get the blackmail material when he gets hit by a pillow. shuri says 'hey that was not nice' as she hits loki with her pillow. peter throws the pillow he has at loki. morgan yells 'PILLOW FIGHT!!' before joining in, and by the time they settle down again all of them have missed the ending of the film and have to rewatch the last 20 minutes before drifting off to sleep together on the floor in a patchwork of all their blankets]

---[later at the party]---

Tony: sorry pal, I'm a certified genius and even I don't know how she managed to carry around and slip Morgan’s papers to you when that dress has no pockets and her purse is barely large enough to fit a small-to-medium-sized wrench Rhodey: it was probably the same way she switched your drink for Thor's godchild renouncement forms when you weren't looking Tony, whispering: I think she has CEO paperwork powers Rhodey whispering back: you're only noticing now?

[pepper and tony get home the next day]

Pepper: i still cant believe you left Loki near the kids Tony: and i still cant believe you didn't know how to check the live feed and decided to ignore me the entire night instead of bothering to ask. clearly deep down you trusted my judgement and the decision to leave the kids in Loki's capable, mischiefy, slightly-insane but apparently reformed hands.

[yelling is heard from the living room and Tony and Pepper run in to find Loki Peter Shuri and Morgan sitting around wrapped in blankets and playing Mario Kart and exclaiming their thoughts very vocally. when they are noticed all the kids freeze and stare at Tony. Loki mumbles something about telling Tony he lost the bet since he did in fact manage to keep everyone alive and at that point even Pepper is staring (glaring) at Tony.]

Tony, realising the kids have bonded™: oh no. what have i done.

[malewifegrantaire]

The Birthday Thing

READ PART ONE HERE

READ PART TWO HERE

PART THREE: The titular “Thing.”

Combeferre had put himself in charge of the cell phone bag, a move that Enjolras heartily objected to.

“You really don’t have to do that.�� Enjolras said. “You should be having fun!”

“I will be having fun!” Combeferre promised. “But if we’re gonna enforce a no cell phone policy, someone has to keep an eye on them in case someone’s mom calls or something.”

“If my mom calls, do me a favor and send her to voicemail.” Courfeyrac interrupted. Courfeyrac had managed to simultaneously be the first and last person to arrive, even though the party was being thrown in his apartment. He’d set everything up, welcomed Enjolras and Combeferre, and then left to go pick up his plus-one who, Combeferre noticed, was standing very nervously behind Courfeyrac clutching a bouquet of flowers.

“Uh, hi. Thank you, uh, thanks for having me, I know we don’t know each other too well. We met once, I don’t know if you remember-“

“I remember.” Combeferre said, and Marius made a face that said quite plainly he wished he hadn’t remembered him at all. Enjolras only smiled.

“Oh, it’s you! You’re, yeah, you’re that guy, I remember you! Marius. Okay, yeah! Thank you for coming.” he said. Marius’ shoulders relaxed a bit, and he held out the bouquet.

“These are for you. Or for the house, I guess. I know it said no gifts but I thought, but if you don’t want anything I - sorry, I know that, but, it’s fine I can just-“

“These are very nice, thank you. I appreciate it.” Enjolras said graciously.

Combeferre grabbed the tote bag full of cell phones and held it open. “Well, confiscation time. Cough ‘em up, fellas.” he said. Courfeyrac took it upon himself to discard of Marius’ phone, but before he did, something on Marius’ screen made him giggle.

“I didn’t know you had a sister, Marius.”

Marius frowned. “Sister? What are you - oh!”

His lock screen was a selfie of a teenage girl, who was making a silly face into the camera. Marius’ eyes widened, and he quickly snatched his phone away to change the picture. “This isn’t my sister,” he explained, laughing nervously. “It’s, she’s this kid I know, my neighbor.” He set his screensaver to the first thing in his camera roll, a picture of a dog wearing rain boots, and tossed the phone into the tote bag.

“Okay!” Enjolras said brightly. “Thanks again for coming, and for the flowers. Have you met everyone yet.”

“Uh, yeah.” Marius said. “I know Joly and Bossuet, I already said hi to him. And Bahorel, is he here?”

“Yes, he’s . . . I don’t know, actually. He’s somewhere.”

“And uh, Grantaire, I know him. Is he here too?”

Enjolras’ face fell a bit. As a matter of fact, Grantaire wasn’t there. Not that it was unlike him to be “fashionably” late (Enjolras hadn’t a clue what was so fashionable about lack of punctuality, but you know.) But, still, Enjolras thought . . . seeing as it was his birthday and all . . .

“Not yet,” Combeferre cut in. “But he will be. Soon.”

Courfeyrac squinted at him. “Right.” he said. “Well, we’ll go and join the fray. Come on, Enjolras, you should come join us. Combeferre’s not allowed to hog you in the kitchen all night.”

“Well, alright.” Enjolras said with a pleased sigh. “Combeferre, you don’t have to stand guard by the phones all night.”

“Agreed. I expect you to join us for karaoke!” Courfeyrac said, dragging Enjolras and Marius into the living room to mingle.

Combeferre eyed his tote bag, which was now fairly heavy. Technically, the no cell phone rule applied to him too, but rules were made to be broken, no? He scrolled through his recent contacts and hit the call button, turning away from the kitchen island so as not to be spotted.

“Hello?”

“Uh, yeah, hello?” Combeferre whispered into the phone. “Where are you?”

“Hello??”

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you. You’ve reached Grantaire’s voicemail. My phone is either lost or dead or I just don’t want to pick up, so shoot me a text. If it’s an emergency, call literally anyone else. While you’re here, check out this sick beep.”

There was a beep. Fucker.

Combeferre groaned. He should have known this would happen. He looked at Enjolras, who was laughing at something Feuilly was saying. He was a great friend, Enjolras. Maybe the greatest. He didn’t want gifts or even a fancy party. He just wanted all of his friends under one roof for a night. It wasn’t that much to ask for.

He was going to get what he wanted. Combeferre would see to it.

***

Someone was knocking at the door, and Grantaire was pretty sure he knew who it was, but he opened it anyway. Combeferre was standing arms folded, looking angrier than Grantaire had ever seen him (and Grantaire had seen Combeferre argue about politics.)

“Who buzzed you in?” he asked stupidly.

Combeferre didn’t wait for an invitation, he brushed past Grantaire into the apartment. He looked like he was going to throw a punch. Grantaire almost hoped he would. He was usually better with fists than with words.

“What the fuck?” Combeferre asked. It wasn’t a rhetorical question.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Say you got hit in the head and you’re suffering from amnesia, because other than that I can not think of a reason you are in this apartment in pajamas right now.”

Grantaire looked up at Combeferre. “I got hit in the head and I’m suffering from amnesia.” he said.

Combeferre wanted to scream. “Come on.” he said, exercising an impressive amount of restraint. “Get your clothes on. Let’s go.”

“Uh, no, I’m not going. I don’t even know why your here, I already texted Enjolras.”

Combeferre stared at him for a beat, then started rummaging through the tote bag he was carrying. Grantaire blinked in confusion.

“Is that everyone’s phones?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s a screen free party.” Combeferre muttered.

“But you’re here. So nobody at the apartment has a phone. What if there’s an emergency?”

“There won’t be an emergency. Also, Jehan has his phone.” Combeferre had given it to him before he left. He said he was just running out to grab some more drinks, but he was pretty sure Jehan could tell he was lying. He probably should have left the entire bag with Jehan, but he hadn’t been thinking clearly. “Also,” Combeferre added, angrily. “I shouldn’t have had to leave anything with anyone, because you should be at Courfeyrac’s right now.”

Grantaire frowned. Combeferre noticed for the first time how very tired he looked. Very tired, and very unhappy. While he was at it, he also noticed an envelope with Enjolras’ name written in pretty cursive on the coffee table. And an outfit laid carefully out across the couch. Grantaire wasn’t acting his usual self. He seemed . . . more withdrawn. Combeferre always thought of Grantaire as bold and utterly shameless. Maybe this is what it looked like when Grantaire was embarrassed. He went back to looking for Enjolras’ phone.

sorry, can’t make it tonight. wish i could be there, not feeling well. have a blast.

Combeferre read the message aloud. “This is bullshit.” he decided. “I’m deleting this.”

“Oh, you know Enjolras’ password,” Grantaire commented, watching Combeferre. “How sweet.”

“It’s literally 1-2-3-4.” Why did he say that? Now Enjolras would have to change it. Goddamn it.

“Look, I’m actually not feeling well.” Grantaire lied. “So, if you could kindly fuck off? I’d super appreciate it.”

Combeferre looked him up and down. “I think you self sabotage, Grantaire.” he said, earning a mean bark of a laugh from the shorter man.

“Gee thanks. How much do I owe you for this session, doc?”

“Stop, I’m being - I’m trying to be real with you.” Grantaire looked amused by the notion. Combeferre carried on, “Everyone is trying to be friends with you. Why do you insist on making that so difficult?”

“Sorry it’s been such a pain in the ass, I truly am.” Grantaire said, rolling his eyes petulantly. “Look, we all know what kind of friend I am. I’m good for carousing and not much else. It’s no trouble, after all, everyone needs a good drinking buddy, and I am happy to oblige. But this shit? Dinner parties - sorry, not party, thing. And, and, folding laundry together and going for picnics in the park and Saturday brunch or whatever the fuck? That’s not me. Sorry. I really wish it was but, you know. ‘To thine own self be true’ and all that.”

Combeferre folded his arms across his chest. He knew what he needed to ask, but he really, really didn’t want to. Combeferre was a polite person, but what good is politeness if you can’t extend it to people that aren’t always easy to be around? Kind and good, that’s what he tried to be. But maybe he’d find out that he wasn’t kind or good, not really. Not when it counted.

“Grantaire, did I do something to you?”

Grantaire seemed taken aback. “What?”

Combeferre really didn’t want to ask again. “Did I, you know. Is there something I did? Or, I don’t know, do? I just . . . why don’t you like me?”

There was a silence. Grantaire looked at Combeferre, his face twisted in anxiety. This could not be happening.

“Combeferre.” he said slowly. “I don’t dislike you.”

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have even - but like. You do hang out with the others. Like I know I’m not always down for whatever, but you’re friends with everyone. You’re friends with fucking Marius Pontmercy, who I literally forgot existed until this week. So I know you like all them, obviously you’re friends with Joly and Bossuet, and you go out with Bahorel and Courfeyrac a lot, and you’re always talking to Feuilly and Jehan about whatever, and obviously you like Enjolras so it’s just me, then. I feel like maybe I did something to you but I don’t know what it was or what it is and I don’t know how to fix it? Or apologize? I don’t know, I know we don’t all have to be friends, like I’m not forcing you to be my friend or anything, but I don’t know. I’d like to be.”

Grantaire frowned. “I hate when you do that.” he said, which is not exactly the response Combeferre was hoping for. His heart sunk.

“Do what?”

“Say stuff about Enjolras like that. Like wink-wink nudge-nudge, obviously you like him and oh my god he totally wanted you here. Like I get it, but you don’t have to make fun.” Grantaire’s eyes were fixed on the ground. His pajama pants didn’t have pockets to shove his hands into, so instead they were sort of nervously pulling at the drawstring.

Combeferre didn’t know what to say. He felt absolutely terrible. “I didn’t - I’m sorry. I never meant to make fun. I just meant that I know you guys have like, you know. You have a different relationship than the rest of us, I guess.”

“Fuck off.” Grantaire said, but it came out quiet and unsure of itself.

“Look, I’m only here because I want Enjolras to have a good birthday. I know my best friend, and I know that he will have a great time and be grateful for everyone who came whether you’re there or not.”

“Okay.” Grantaire said, meeting Combeferre’s eyes at last.

“But I also know that he’s going to be thinking all night about why you didn’t show, and he’s going to bring it up for the next month in the way he does whenever he brings you up as if he’s just casually curious even though he’s a terrible actor. And honestly? Maybe it’s selfish, but I don’t want to have to deal with all that. Which is why I’m here to bring you to the party.”

“I didn’t know you had a selfish bone in your body.” Grantaire laughed, almost sounding impressed.

“Well, I’m only human.”

“It doesn’t seem like that, sometimes.” Grantaire said. “You three. You seem like something else entirely. Demigods, maybe. Something out of a book.”

“Well, we’re not. We’re people. Get your clothes on, please.”

Maybe for the first time in all of their years of acquaintance, Grantaire nodded and quietly obliged.

***

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Bahorel said, more fond than annoyed. Everyone in the apartment greeted Grantaire with a cheer. He gave a sheepish grin in return.

“You know me. I never miss a party.” he said.

Courfeyrac intercepted Combeferre at the door. “I was wondering where you went.” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Excellent work.”

“Well, you know. It’s his birthday.”

“Speak of the devil.”

Enjolras had made his way from across the apartment to say hello. He looked more beautiful than Grantaire had ever seen him, his golden hair tucked behind his ears, which were blushing pink. Not that this meant much - every time Grantaire looked at Enjolras he seemed more beautiful than the last.

“Glad you could make it.” he said, and he meant it.

“Better late than never, right?” Grantaire joked, but with much more gentleness and much less bravado than he jokes with any of the others. Enjolras usually had this effect on him. “You look nice.”

“Thank you.” Enjolras smiled, and his teeth were so white it was unfair and his eyes were so bright Grantaire could probably sue for damage to his retinas. He pulled an envelope out of his pocket.

“This is, uh, it’s for you. I know it said no gifts but in my opinion that’s bullshit, so. Here.”

“Thank you.” Enjolras said again. “Can I open it now?”

“It’s your present, so. It’s not much, just a gift card.”

Enjolras tore open the envelope. He looked at the contents curiously. Grantaire felt himself starting to sweat.

“What’s Claire’s?” Enjolras asked.

“The fuck?” Grantaire said, grabbing the gift card. Jesus Christ. “I meant to get a regular one, fuck me. Uh, I’m pretty sure Claire’s is a children’s jewelry store. You could get a phone case. Or pierce your ears, that could be fun! I think I have a receipt at home somewhere, I’ll get it to you and you can get an actual gift card. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.” Enjolras said, beaming. “Thank you.”

“No, uh, thanks for the invite.”

A phone started ringing from inside of Combeferre’s bag. He fished around for a while before finding the culprit. A familiar looking girl’s contact image lit up the screen.

“Marius, it’s your sister.”

Marius’ eyes went wide, and he rushed to grab his phone. “She’s not my sister. Hello?” he said into the speaker, his face contorting into an indecipherable expression before running into the bathroom to take his call. Combeferre couldn’t help but roll his eyes, which Grantaire noticed with a giggle. Courfeyrac had somehow made his way to the top of a stool, and he was clanging a fork to his glass.

“Everyone! Eyes up here! So, who’s ready for a game?!”

[clairecrive]

“Why?” Alfie Solomons x reader (part 2)

You’ve asked for it and here it is! I’m not too sure about this but oh well. Hope you like it, can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye​, @mollybegger-blog​, @br0ck-eddie​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​. @evelynshelby​, @fandom--0verdose​, @shadow-of-wonder (let me know if you wanna be added)

“Sorry to interrupt. I need a word with the lady.” Not really minding about politeness or good manners, Alfie limped towards Y/n and Peter. Luckily for him, they were dancing at the edge of the room so he hadn’t had to walk among the crowds and their interaction could be as private as they needed it to.

They stopped dancing, facing the intruder. Peter didn’t even acknowledge him, turning to y/n instead. He knew who Alfie was and what was his role in this game, still, he waited for y/n's approval. Y/n didn't think that Alfie would actually come up to her. Nonetheless, she was curious about what he wanted to say to her so she nodded, letting Peter know that it was okay for him to leave her alone with Alfie. 

When Peter left, with a nod of his head Alfie gestured for y/n to follow him outside. He waited to be out on the balcony, with the doors locked behind them, before speaking. 

"I see you've moved on." 

"People die of heartbreaks only in books, Alfie. What did you expect me to do?" 

Alfie knew that she was right and that making her feel bad about being with another guy was hypocrite of him. He had been the one that refused her, after all. Still, he had his reasons and his lack of feelings toward her wasn't one of them. 

"You know that I care about you, right?" Unable to look at her nor to address the matter heavy on his heart, he settles to state the obvious to stall. 

"I like to think that you did, yes. Even if only for a little while." She said throwing away her intention to keep any kind of conversation between her and him, brief and civil. 

"What are you talking about?" Arching his brow, Alfie turned to her and even though y/n was not facing him she knew that if she was she'd see a hint of hurt and offence in his eyes. 

"Well, the beginning of our relationship wasn't ideal, to put it lightly," she recalled the harsh welcome he gave her when his men brought her in his office thinking that she was some sort of spy, "then it has evolved. From boss and employee to friends." She decided not to mention the fact that towards the end of it for one of them there was the desire of taking it to the next step. 

"For a while, I actually thought that you cared about me. Then some whispers would spread about you and the company you'd keep and I was forced to reconsider my opinion, of course. Not that I want you to feel bad about it or anything, Alfie. You can't control your heart, that's what they say." Trying to put their relationship in a few words was very easy and y/n was sure that she didn't make it justice. However, she had never been good at being concise and keep it short.

"I didn't take ya for the kind of girl to listen to voices and whispers, love." 

"I'm not Alfie but you forget that we were living together at that time and no matter how much I wanted to, the scent and the lipstick stains were hard to miss." She chuckled sourly. 

"No matter, it had nothing to do with you nor our relationship." He simply stated making y/n roll her eyes and grew restless. 

"Is there something you wanted to tell me, Alfie? I'm not in the mood to walk down memory lane, you understand." 

"So eager to go back to your date, I see. Go ahead, I'm not forcing you to stay." Turning his back to the balcony windows they had come from, Alfie set his eyes on the garden below, already regretting his choice of words and even the decision to come to this ball in the first place. 

Y/n, on the other hand, was rather confused. Her eyes were stuck on Alfie's figure hoping to find some clarity. Why was he acting so strange? Like it was him who was hurt between the two, him who had his heart broken, him who had to go on knowing that the love of his life didn't return his feelings.

"What's going on, Alfie?" 

"Why are you still here, y/n? Thought you couldn't stay away from the bloke any longer." The acid in his tone was hard to miss, and again y/n was left to wonder why he was treating her like it was her fault they were apart. 

"I'm sorry, wasn't you that said that you couldn't be with me, offering none explanation whatsoever? If I'm not wrong, it's you that pushed me away because you felt nothing for me Alfie, so why the hell are you treating me like it's my fault?" Addressing the elephant in the room, she couldn't help but get worked up while she spoke. 

"Only because I told you that we couldn't be together doesn't mean that I don't want to." He mumbled. 

“Then why are you acting like I don't love you back? It was you that never made a move, Alfie, so I thought that you were restrained by your religion. Then I discovered that indeed you never let it stop you before, don’t even try to deny it, Alfred. So I’ve come to the conclusion that you weren’t interested in me like that and I mean, there’s nothing I could do about it, right? Then you go ahead and shower me with little kind gestures that yes, I’ve appreciated endlessly but that also confused me to no end. Eventually, I confronted you about it and we know how that went. And now here you are, standing in front of me, telling me that you love me…”

“I was trying to be proper.”

“Oh please Alfie, you’re anything but.”

“I know that very well love, don’t I? Just were doing it for you.”

“I’ve told you, a thousand times, that I don’t give a fuck about these social conventions of yours. They mean nothing to me and you knew that. I reckon you almost fainted when you saw me wearing pants, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, it was then that I understood that you’ll be the death of me.”

“You don’t have to put up with me anymore Alfie. You’re not bound to me.” Stating the reality of facts never hurt y/n more.

“Are you bullshitting me? I’ve just told you that I love you, right, ain’t it? You’re mine.”

“I know I am. The thing is that you’re not mine.”

Alfie takes a step in her directions, not able to bear anymore the distance between them and the situation in general. Time for words is over, now it’s time to act. Smiling with mirth at her words, knowing very well that she was wrong, he opts to go about it with a more practical approach. Gently putting his hands on the base of her neck, slowly trailing up towards her cheeks. The pud of his thumb gently caresses her lower lip, parting them slightly. Y/n’s mind had completely gone blank and retired from the mission leaving her standing there to completely surrender to her emotions. Her breathing accelerated, her heart tumbed wildly in her chest, her skin set completely on fire by Alfie’s touch. Countless were the nights when she dreamt about this very moment and such were all those times when Alfie got one step close to kissing her but never did, frustrating her to no end.

Softly bumping their noses together, Alfie uses the hold on her face to draw her impossibly close to him. When y/n closed her eyes in anticipation of his kiss, he took a moment to really take her in. Oh, how he’d missed her. 

“I am yours.” He confessed and before she could even register his words, his mouth had taken on the task of showing just how much he meant was he said. Kissing her felt like finally getting that thing you didn’t know you needed, like a sudden revelation that all of this time he had been fooling himself when he would affirm that he was fine. He wasn’t. It really makes you think how a person can change your perspective on life so drastically. But Alfie wasn’t sure it was a bad thing. The total opposite actually. And y/n could only agree with him. Her life was turned upside down even before Alfie had come into her life. However, she wasn’t sure if she’d survived without him. Quite literally but of course, metaphorically too. He was like that force that comes in and with just his presence, he restored the balance in her and her life. Despite how messy Alfie really was. She would have never thought that a man could mean so much to her, to feel like she had been drawing all this time that she’d been without him, finally coming to the surface for some air when his lips had touched hers.

Contrary to popular belief, Alfie could be as gentle and delicate as he needed to. Sometimes, he was even the softest of the two. That had always amused y/n, knowing how rough and violent but at the same time kind and cautious he could be. She found that this aspect of his character rightly found his place in the kaleidoscope that was Alfie’s personality. He was such a complex man, so bright and intelligent, so quick-witted and well-spoken that really, she couldn’t avoid falling for him. She often wondered how come some other woman hadn’t before her. Well, no mind, she was grateful for it really. The man kissing her, ravishing her with such passion almost as if he’d want to impress himself on her, was hers. And she wouldn’t want it any other way.

When the need for air became unbearable for both of them, Alfie pulled away, still keeping a kiss away from her. 

“So, was that convincing enough?” He asked referring to her unwillingness to trust him.

“What changed?” Still heavy breathing, she ignored the unfamous smirk on his face and his question.

“I realized I couldn’t fucking stand the thought of another man touching you.” Men. So predictable. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him. Of course, he’d come back to mark his territory as soon as he felt it was threatened. Still, that wasn’t a good enough answer. It didn’t explain all his reservations about being with her.

“That’s cheesy as hell Alfie, but I’ll take it. For now.” She’ll ask him another time. Now, it wasn’t the time for words, after all.

“So, wanna go inside and tell that bloke that he can kindly fuck off?” He said alluding to Peter. Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, she knew that her tactic would work.

“It surprises me that you haven’t noticed yet, but if you turn around you’ll see that he already has.” She simply explained. Peter too had a lady he wanted to arouse an action from and as it had for her, their plan worked just fine. He was dancing with her just now, she could see them from the balcony they were standing.

“Perfect, then let’s get the fuck out of here.” He proposed.

“But first,” he stopped and before taking a step toward the exit he pulled her into another kiss as if to remind him that this was true. It had happened. She was his just as he was hers.