#conniving white haired baddies!

[sleepystarsoup]

spot the difference challenge

[snixxlmao]

LIMA LOSER? OR IS THAT (SANTANA LOPEZ)? THEY MIGHT EVEN PASS FOR (MAIA REFICCO) IN THE RIGHT LIGHT. THEY'RE (TWENTY - TWO), BUT STILL STUCK IN (LIMA HEIGHTS) AT (WHICH SCHOOL). THEY'VE BEEN CALLED THE (HELLKITE), BUT PREFER TO BE THE (SIREN). MAYBE IF THEY FIX THEIR AESTHETIC AKA (MAROON COLORED LIPSTICK LEFT ON A WHITE T-SHIRT, A WICKED SMIRK THAT NEVER FAILS SCARING OFF THE WEAK , A SEVRE COFFEE ADDICTION , A NOTEBOOK FULL OF HER WITTIEST REMARKS USED AGAINST HER PREY ) THEY'LL GET THEIR WAY. WORD ON THE SHOW CHOIR BLOGS ARE THEY'RE IN (THE TROUBLE TONES). SO GOOD LUCK TO THEM!

THE BASICS:

name: santana diabla lopez

nicknames: santan, snixx , auntie snixx , san .

pronouns: she/her

gender: cis-female

birthday/zodiac: august 21st , leo.

birthplace: lima heights adjacent

relationship status: single

sexuality: sapphic GODDESS

occupation: waitress at spotlight diner

sports/clubs: cheerios, gay-straight alliance, mathletes .

major/minor: economics/music

languages: spanish and english

social media handles: normally it's bitchpez , because it sounds like bitch please , or auntiesnixx but that one is used only for her backup account that she uses to stalk people or shit post hot photos of herself to make others jealous.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:

height: 5'2"

build: sexy as fucking shit.

eye color: brown

hair color: brown

piercings: belly button, both helix are pierced along with her lobes and upper lobe too. oh and after a drunken night she also got her nipples pierced.

tattoos: her initials, sl, behind her ear inside the outline of a devil .

other distinguishing features: her conniving smirk , her defined abs and her killer bod.

style: baddie, but not overly showy .. loves to leave something to the imagination.

PERSONALITY/INTERESTS:

traits: judgmental, devious , loyal (to a fault) , intelligent , witty , spiteful , confident , arrogant.

likes: dancing , smoking cigars , watching people fall down , fame , attention, singing, the color black or maroon , partying or going out clubbing , commenting on how better she is than everyone else, herself , santana lopez (that woman is a goddess) .

dislikes: annoying losers , the word moist , when someone chews with their mouth open, open mouth breathers, anyone who thinks they are better than her, children also know as demon spawns, perverts at work who think they can tip her for a happy ending, ketchup.

fears: heights and being forgotten.

skills: singing, dancing , cheerleading, being able to seduce anyone into getting her way.

quirks: nasty habit or quirk she has is that whenever she gets nervous she tends to chew on pens. it's very rare for her since she rarely gets nervous, but when she does catch her with her 'chewing pen' in mouth.

hobbies: bullying others to show her superiority and making them cry, math (but don't call her a nerd) .

music tastes: she's a huge fan of amy winehouse and that sort of smooth r&b mixed with jazz, anything that she can dance to at the club or make her feel like the empowered bitch she is. whitney houston is also on repeat for her or anything by renee rapp and kehlani. she's also a bit of a swiftie however don't ever catch her admitting that she is to anyone.

myers-briggs: estp

kinsey scale: 6 , only straight santana is , is a straight up bitch.

strengths: her harsh words , thick skin and being hot as fuck.

weaknesses: being a tad over sensitive and not being able to take what she dishes out to everyone.

CONNECTIONS PAGE || SPOTIFY PLAYLIST

[wordywarriorwrites]

Chapter 10: Behind Enemy Lines

Masterlist: The Boss of Brooklyn A03 Story Link Author: @wordywarriorwrites Summary: When it comes to being The Boss, James Buchanan “JB” Barnes rules with an iron fist. For him, there’s no room for sentiment, and certainly no time for distraction, even if it is in the form of an old flame. Steve Rogers had bowed out of the life a long time ago, but a twist of fate brings him right back into the fold, and face-to-face with a man he once loved. When a game of cat and mouse turns into a matter of life and death, both will be forced to decide whether they’ll be loyal to the business, or faithful to each other. A/N: Bucky Barnes Mob Boss AU. Stucky. For: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan Star’s Multi-Fandom Follower Celebration with the prompt, “Why did you do it?” & @sherrybaby14 Sherry’s Fall Into You Challenge with the prompt, “Show me. Prove that you can handle me.” Warnings: Language, violence, drug use, alcohol, smoking, explicit sexual content, illegal activities. *Re-blogs are welcome. Plagiarism isn’t. *

There had been too many close calls and Steve knew it was well past time to get out of Brooklyn.

Fury had managed to incite enough fear to scatter the Families, and in less than six months, he’d infiltrated their city and obliterated generations worth of hard work by using a combination of violence and propaganda. He’d essentially given them just enough rope to hang themselves with, and as a result, the Families had lost their authority and credibility, and would soon lose their livelihoods.

Blood had been spilled, and if they didn’t take the fight to Fury, he would continue to push in. If anyone resisted, bodies would continue to drop, and if it went on for much longer, people would either turncoat or tuck tail and run. It didn’t take much to convince Bruce and Natasha that they needed to go on the offensive, but The Boss, per usual, had not been so easily swayed.

Precious time was wasted because Bucky squabbled about everything and nothing. When Natasha pointed out that arguing and delaying would only serve to give Fury even more opportunity to do further damage, Bucky finally conceded, and agreed to get out of dodge for a while.

Once the decision was made, it was only a matter of retrieving their passports and booking a flight. They decided not to tell anyone where they were going, didn’t bother with luggage, replaced their cellphones with burners, and only used cash. It wasn’t until they were in the air and flying over the Atlantic that Steve felt like he could breathe again.

They arrived in Jamaica and got out of the airport without any problems. Since it was the only island in the West Indians Fury had yet to infiltrate, it was the best place to lay low, recuperate, and do some recon. Montego Bay, located on the north coast, was home to a major cruise ship port. As a popular tourist destination, there were plenty of resorts available to hide away in, and the crowds made it easier for them to blend in.  

While Bruce, Natasha, and Bucky focused on plans for taking back their city, Steve spent his time healing, and it took weeks for him to start feeling normal again. White-sand beaches; long, unobstructed stretches of ocean views; jerk food; Mento music; the freedom to go where he pleased; not having to look over his shoulder all the time; the kindness of the hotel staff – it all aided in both his mental and physical recovery, and when he felt ready, he set about making contact with the team he used to run with.  

It took a few days to get the word out, but with Bruce’s help, he managed to do it without drawing attention or raising suspicion. Steve chose a restaurant on Gloucester Avenue for the meet and the outdoor seating offered just enough privacy and ambient noise to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard. He selected a table that offered a full view of the street, and made sure to sit at the end so nobody could sneak up on him. The scent of pimento wood and authentic, local cuisine wafted through the air, and though he was the first to arrive, he wasn’t alone for long.

Maria Hill, Scott Lang, Carol Danvers, and James Rhodes were an A-list squad of thieves and baddies. They made it appear as if they were meeting up with Steve for dinner, calmly took their seats at the table, and perused the menu. They kept their features schooled, but their furtive glances suggested they were truly shocked to see him, and after the waitress served them their drinks and took their food orders, they immediately started talking.

“Nick said things went sideways in Brooklyn,” Scott voiced after taking a long pull on his beer.

“You pissed off the Families,” Maria stated bluntly over the rim of her wine glass. “Went rogue.”

Carol toyed with the umbrella in her drink, “Your actions got a man killed.”

Rhodey sat back swirled the whiskey in his tumbler, “And your Boss put you down for it.”

Their assertions, however misinformed, were not at all surprising. Fury was cunning and knew how to maneuver and coax people to his way of thinking. If he couldn’t connive, cajole, or get something credible to use as leverage, he resulted to wild accusations and downright lies. People in their line of work were hardwired to look for betrayal in all forms, and expect it to come from any direction, and because Nick was their leader, he was never second-guessed or questioned.

It was difficult for Steve to come to terms with the fact that someone he had worked side-by-side with for four years could so easily turn on him. He knew Nick wasn’t a good man, but then again, Steve himself wasn’t exactly a choirboy, and that probably explained why Fury had hooked and reeled him in so easily. Nick had saved his life. Gave him a job. Helped him and guided him when he was at his most vulnerable and least deserving. Perhaps he’d been naive, or maybe it was just a flaw in his character, but Steve had trusted him.

He believed they’d been friends.

“Steve, what the hell is going on?” Carol prodded. “Why would he tell us you were dead when you’re clearly very much alive?”

Pulled out of his internal self-loathing, Steve just sighed, and shook his head.  

“Fury’s good at what he does,” he told them. “He sent me to Brooklyn and it went pear-shaped, but I swear to you, I didn’t sabotage anything. It was all him.”

The declaration made everyone fall silent, and during the moment of quiet retrospection, servers arrived at their table with heaping plates of food. The grub was so good, they didn’t start speaking again until after the dishes were cleared and another round of drinks were delivered.

Maria furrowed her brow and crossed her arms over her chest, “He wanted a foothold in the States. When the Senator fell through, you were his ticket in.”

“Which means he set you up and got you pushed out,” Rhodey said. “And since he doesn’t like to share, he’s decided to take it all.”

“And he hung me out to dry in the process,” Steve finished.

“So, what’s the next move?” Scott wondered.

Steve swallowed hard and ran a hand through his hair, “Fury drew first blood and the Families aren’t going to let it slide. They have the numbers, and no matter the cost, they will fight to the last.”

“Meaning what, exactly?” Carol asked.

“That despite your best efforts, war is coming,” Steve declared gravely. “And whether you like it or not, you’re going to have to pick a side.”

Rhodey held up his hands, “Look, what Fury did to you was bad, but he’s been good to me – to all of us. We did what we could for you, but none of us signed on for a fight.”

Steve sat forward and rested his forearms on the table, “Treaties don’t work unless all parties stick to the arrangement, and Fury has no intention of upholding his end of the bargain. It may not be your fight, but he will sure as hell make it your business.”

“For the sake of argument, let’s say we switched allegiances,” Scott countered. “How can you guarantee your Boss won’t do exactly what Fury did?”

“Yeah, what’s to stop him from taking all we got?” Rhodey inquired.

“Or putting bullets between our eyes?” Maria tacked on.

Their interrogation, ignorance, and constant referral to Bucky as his “Boss” lit his fuse. Unable to stop himself, Steve let out a sound of frustration, and slammed his fist down hard on the table.

“I should’ve better than to think any of you would step up,” he snapped sharply.

In the wake of his outburst, the restaurant fell quiet, and more than a few heads turned in their direction. Hands shaking and heart pounding, Steve apologized loud enough for all to hear, and once it was clear to everyone that a fight wasn’t going to break out, they returned to their meals.  

Carol cleared her throat and rubbed her arms, “We trust you. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t.”

Steve arched an eyebrow, “But?”

“We looked into James Barnes,” Scott confessed. “And we don’t do what he does.”

He snorted, reached into his pocket, and tossed some cash onto the table, “Yeah, you do. You just prefer not to get your hands dirty.”

“We do what we can do avoid conflict,” Rhodey reminded him. “Your Boss doesn’t. In fact, he seems to enjoy mayhem and violence.”

“And I came up with him, so, you think we’re the same,” Steve fumed. “Because deep down, I’m still just a two-bit, gutter-rat thug like the rest of ‘em. So, fuck me, right?”

“Steve, you’re not being fair,” Maria argued.

“No, you want to know what’s not fair?” he snarled lowly as he got to his feet. “It’s not fair that one of my oldest friends is dead. It’s not fair that I keep getting fucked over. It’s not fair that I keep getting stabbed in the fucking back. It’s not fair that I’m being left to shovel the shit that every, goddamn one of you has dumped on me.”

Scott stood up, “Steve, come on, man. Let’s just talk about this.”

Without another word or backward glance, Steve stepped away from the table, and onto the street. Even though he could hear Maria and Carol call after him, he ignored them, and pushed onward. His rage carried him all the way out of the downtown area and back to the hotel, and as soon as the room’s door shut behind him, Steve reached for the chair tucked under the desk, lifted it above his head, and slammed it down as hard as he could onto the floor.  

The stream of expletives that flew out of his mouth was punctuated by the sound of snapping wood. The little chair didn’t stand much of a chance; it was pulverized in seconds, which prompted him to drop what remained, and send his fist sailing through the drywall. Steve was gearing up for another swing when the sliding door that connected to the private patio slid open.

“I take it your meeting didn’t go well?” Bucky taunted as he stepped inside.

Steve flipped him the bird, but said nothing.

“Well, as entertaining as your tantrum was to watch, you had better not continue,” he ordered. “If you do, someone will call security, and we don’t need that right now.”

“Thanks for the lecture,” he gritted out as he moved into the bathroom. “Now, fuck off.”

Steve waited until he heard the patio door shut before he stepped up to the sink. He cranked the water too hot, and the sting of it as it ran along his raw knuckles hurt like hell. When he glanced into the mirror, the reflection that stared back at him was all too familiar. Flushed face and hard-lined mouth; eyes full of something that bordered on madness; a wildness and furor that hadn’t been let loose since he was a too-angry, closeted, punk-ass kid.

It was this face – these feelings – that he’d been running from for so long. Steve had been on everyone’s side but his own and he was sick of it. Sick of the constant, nagging fear. Sick of being taken for a fool. Sick of the blame always being left at his feet. Sick of the orders, the lies, and the whole god-damn circus his life had turned into.

Disgusted with himself, he turned off the water, and dried his hands. He had every intention of packing what little he had and making a run for it, but when he stepped into the room, Bucky had returned, and that brought him up short.

Curtains drawn. Shoes lined up neatly by the dresser.

Box of condoms and a bottle of lube on the nightstand.

“Take off your clothes,” Bucky commanded lowly. “And get on the bed.”

Chapter 11: Strange Bedfellows 

Everything: @jennmurawski13​ @nerdy-bookworm-1998​

Steve Rogers: @patzammit @hearttoearth​ The Boss of Brooklyn: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @captain-rogers-beard