#cross x nea

[mirrists]

ogh khux.............

[xervn]

like a french girl 🎨

part 3 - french girl | art major ellie x dance major reader

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summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you.

18+ MDNI | 3.8k words | slow burn(?), mutual pining, loser ellie, recreational drug use (weed)

a/n: this took so long because im an intp AND a taurus *makes excuses for myself* also tysm to everyone who commented on the last chapter ur amazing and ily ♥

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Ellie’s in nothing but her underwear, legs criss-crossed on her navy comforter; holding a joint between her lips as she tunes the strings of her maple wood guitar. It’s a lazy Saturday, the one day out of seven where Ellie isn’t constantly tormented by homework and art projects.

These days are practically therapeutic for her. Being able to strum her fingers against the nylon strings and relish in the relaxing, skunky smell of cannabis can fix all of her problems. Minus one, of course: getting to know you better. 

For now, she’s at peace with doing nothing, that is until a loud ding goes off and the brightness of her phone flashbangs her otherwise dim-lit room. She scowls, exhaling a puff from her lungs as she reaches over for the device. Ellie has friends, but she’s no social butterfly. Her phone is usually dry, especially on weekends. Jesse is definitely with Dina, so unless it's serious; there’s no reason for her to be getting a text. 

Naturally, her scowl deepens when she reads that the number is unknown. 

???: hii

ellie: wrong number

She opts to toss her phone away, but the next message throws her off track. 

you: it’s — !

Ellie’s eyes widen at her screen like your name is a hypnotic spiral. She can feel her heart swelling well within her chest, and she’s left wondering if the weed she’s smoking is laced or if she somehow manifested you. Ellie quickly transfers her blunt in one hand and her phone in the other, straining her thumb trying to type as fast as she can to you. 

ellie: oh hdy! 

ellie: hey*

you: dina gave me ur number, i hope that’s okay 

ellie: yeah ofc it is :-)

ellie: i was planning on giving it to you

Ellie typed that half-lie slowly, weighing how true it really was as she pressed send. It was on her plan of things she’d like to do before dying, but even then she doesn’t think she would ever gain the courage. 

you: oh thank god

you: i thought i might be intruding 🙁

ellie: never, what’s up?

you: can i ask you something?

ellie: yes of course aks me anythign

ellie: ask* anything* shut sorry

ellie: SHIT

you: lmao are you okay??

ellie: yeah… forget about that, ask away

you: well i was wondering if you could help me study? im failing my anatomy class..

you: if u can’t it’s okay though!

A sheepish grin spreads across Ellie’s face, as she thinks about all the scenarios that could lead to. To think she’d finally have an excuse to see you after weeks of hoping, of praying for the opportunity. You asked her for help instead of taking other options, especially considering how much easier it would’ve been for you to. 

ellie: its no problem, id be glad to help :-)

you: really?? ur a lifesaver els, tysmm

you: when are you free?

ellie: Right now.

ellie: or whenever .

you: let’s meet at the library in 20?

Almost instantly, Ellie’s excitement warps into anxiety. She wasn’t particularly ready to see you and twenty minutes doesn’t seem like nearly enough time to get her shit together. She thought you’d ignore her impulsive desperation of “right now” and set plans for a later date, but, alas, you didn’t.

Ellie rubs her forehead with her blunt holding hand, trying to scratch the itch of her worries away with just her pinky and thumb. Despite her increasing knowledge of you over the past few weeks, she was still incredibly nervous to be around you. 

Ellie takes one final hit of her joint before snuffing it out in a doob tube on her nightstand. She sets her guitar against her bed and nearly falls off trying to get up in a rush, even though she has more than enough time to get ready. 

She stumbles around the room to put something on, settling with a gray hoodie and a pair of jeans. She attempts to keep her balance as she hastily shoves each leg through her pants; simultaneously eyeing around her room in an attempt to remember where exactly she put her anatomy textbooks. 

Ellie hears a familiar ding from her bed and she snaps towards it to pick up her phone, peering at the screen.

you: ellie?

Ellie curses under her breath, scolding herself for forgetting to text you back. She taps on the keyboard, quickly making sure she doesn’t manage another typo before hitting send.

ellie: sorry! yeah i’ll see you in twenty!

you: awesome :) 

—

You weren’t ready to see Ellie either, you figured, since it took you hours to actually text her. You made up far-fetched scenarios with the worst outcomes; the one where she immediately deletes your number tormented you for quite a while. Now you’re trudging across campus to meet her, internally at war with your mixed emotions. On one hand you get to hang out with a cute girl and on the other you’re hanging out with a really cute girl. Alone. Zero friends around. 

There’s a chance you two might not have anything to talk about. You guys are only mutual friends after all. Even if you guys somehow manage to start a conversation, what if she comes to not like you by the end of it, or vice versa? Not to mention the window incident you’re both hoping the other forgot. 

You hesitate in your steps as you reach the library doors. It’d only take a few seconds to spin around and walk back, but how could you leave her there? You thoughtlessly chew on your lip, eyes worriedly shifting around. 

You can’t recall any moment you’ve been so anxious about meeting up with a girl before. Not once, not even in a distant memory. You’ve always been the bolder one in your endeavors. The fact that Ellie is the only girl to make you feel this way has to mean something. You slowly pace in front of the doors in an attempt to dissipate your worries, nodding to your inner thoughts and ignoring the probable concerned stares in the distance. You’re the one who invited her, so you’re gonna stick it the fuck through. You couldn’t bail before testing the waters, you’d never forgive yourself.

So you barge into the building, letting the cool air hit your face from the swinging doors; granting you a waft of leather and drying ink. The building was decorated with freakishly tall dark wood bookshelves; so high, there were beige ladders in place to reach the top shelves. As expected, it was quiet, empty and definitely overfunded. Studying has never been your forte and you’ve never stepped in this building; save for a few dance history books. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case for everyone else. Thankfully, one pro definitely outweighs those cons. Ellie was going to help you study. Ellie is the reason you’re here at all.

You tidy up your outfit that you diligently put together and roam farther into the library, trying to hold down a smile that’s impossible to hold down. In fact, it completely takes over your face. You need to simmer down your giddiness before you start skipping around. You purse your lips and briefly steady your eyes on the dark, olive carpeted floor ahead of you. 

You head towards the front desk that’s just a sunken step away with the intention of asking for directions to the study hall. An older lady is sitting there, glowering with obvious annoyance definitely because of your loud entry. It’s been ages since you’ve been in the library— your failing grade proves that— and clearly you’ve forgotten all the rules with it.

A flash of guilt passes through you and you force an apologetic smile. She returns it with a grunt and you immediately redirect yourself further into the library; aimlessly in search for the study hall. 

-

You’ve been walking around for a solid five minutes and you swear you’ve passed the same fantasy section a million times now. It’d be smart to text Ellie and tell her you’ll be late, but your ego won’t let you. 

The looming large, ornate bookshelves certainly don’t make it any easier for you to navigate around.

The question of why the school spent so much money on all this occupies your mind as you venture further. You make a turn around a corner you’ve definitely made before, and you sigh at the familiarity of the area in front of you. 

You keep pressing forward anyway, hoping you can manage a new route this time around.

Before you can make another turn, you’re interrupted by drowned footsteps behind you blending into your own, followed by a tap on your shoulder. You flinch at the sudden touch, sharply turning around only to see Ellie looking at you with a downward smile. 

“Lost?” She sarcastically presumes, her viridescent eyes taking in your shocked yet relieved expression. 

You fiddle with the straps of your backpack between your fingers, shyly glancing around you. “No, I was just… looking for more textbooks.” You nod sagely at your own words, as if you’re trying to convince yourself too.

“Oh? Next to—“ The auburn-haired girl squints at the shelf behind you before adorning a wide grin, “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets?” 

Your brows raise and you follow her eyes onto the obviously fiction-filled bookcase. “Uh, yeah? I’ve got Professor Snape at four.” 

Ellie narrows her eyes at you in amused disbelief, trying not to laugh at your adorably dorky excuse.

Dramatically sighing in defeat, “Fuck, okay, you got me.” You say lowly, a bashful smile developing on your lips.  

“You passed the study hall five times. I counted.” Ellie goads.

You partially suppress your laugh, mindlessly giving her arm a light smack. “Oh, my god. Don’t tell me that!” 

She dotes on your laughter and your touch; whether it was intentional or not. Either way, she’s feeling good about herself now and her previous worries about this encounter floated away, and you could safely say the same. 

“It’s a good book though, we can go back and get it. No need to be shy about it.” Ellie quips.

“Shush!” 

—

With Ellie as your guide, the trip to the study hall was much easier than you made it out to be. You recognized the big glass windows you passed by often and when you stepped into it, you flushed with embarrassment. It was a direct contrast to the old-fashioned, mahogany colored library you’d been meandering around. 

Ellie really could’ve counted the times you walked by, and she really did. The first time, she thought you must’ve seen a friend and left to catch up with them. However, the second time around she realized you might be lost. 

She was going to text you and tell you to turn around, but she thought it was cute seeing you walk in circles, ignoring literally every sign in your way. By the fourth time, she could tell you thought you were in a time loop and she found it fucking hilarious. Someone like you, seemingly exceptional in everything but directions. The fifth time came and, of course, she decided she was being cruel and had to come help you herself. 

Ellie leads you to the desk where she’s set camp at, and the amount of books and paperwork makes you dizzy. “Jesus, Els. Are you teaching me the entire course?” 

She takes a seat before giving you an answer, “Well.. That depends on how bad you’re failing.” 

You take a seat across from her, setting your backpack on the floor before resting your forearms on the oak table. “My teacher said I was dumb as fuck and essentially called me a homophobic slur.” You’re exaggerating, obviously, but that was exactly what it felt like.

Ellie scoffs out a sound, unsure of whether to laugh or be offended for you. “Damn... It’s Bill, isn’t it? God, that guy is a fuckin’ prick.” She questions, clearly unsurprised by his actions.

You sit upright in your chair, relief shining through your words, “Yes! Is that his thing?” 

Ellie casually leans back, thinking back to when she was a student of his. “Oh, yeah. He’s a blunt guy, shitty filter,” She continues, and somehow you’re both meeting each other’s looks, “But he’s fair with his grades, n’ I know it doesn’t make it any better, but he has a husband. He’s just… old.. and grumpy.”

You try to consider that he is letting you retake a major grade. You guess you could appreciate that somewhat. “True... still, the comment was unprovoked. You must know him well though?” 

“Yeah, I took his class last year. We were at each other's throats about coursework n’ shit. Really hard to reason with that guy.” Ellie purposely leaves out the part where she was being unreasonable too, but only for the sake of storytelling, of course. “Then that summer, I saw him at a family gathering.” She finishes off with a dramatic shiver in disgust and you laugh at how endearing it was. 

“Anyways, his gaydar is somethin’ else. I can never tell.” She admits, carelessly waving a hand in the air. Ellie’s radar in particular is broken. Shattered, even. She can’t keep track of the amount of times she has stood in the shower, realizing a girl was flirting with her only days later. 

“Even with me?” 

“Even with you...” She speaks with artificial sadness and a slight sulk.

“Ouch… I’m wounded.” You fake a frown, slightly dropping your shoulders.

Ellie’s eyes fall to your nails; some suspiciously shorter than the others, and all painted in your favorite color. “But… that I know for sure, I can definitely tell.” Ellie comments.

 A swarm of butterflies suddenly parade your belly, and you shine a coy smile her way. “They’re not short because of that…” Your half-hearted attempt to defend yourself drips in the lightness of your voice.

Ellie briefly raises her eyebrows with a sly smile plastered on her face, folding her arms over her chest; which, unbeknownst to you, was to shield how hard her heart was thumping. She’s shocked she hasn’t turned into a pile of mush yet, probably thanks to her smoke session earlier.

“I’m serious! I keep my hands to myself.” You continue on, putting in a little effort in your voice for your defense this time. For the most part it is true, lately your mind has been on Ellie, and Ellie only. The thought of random flings didn't excite you, but she did. However, it wasn’t not true that you’ve had a fair share of hookups. You’re in an art school, how could you not? 

“C’mon, just yourself? I’m sure you've cared to share.” Ellie playfully pokes around you with her words; nonchalant and prone for a reaction. 

Your jaw slightly drops, making your head tilt to the side incredulously. “Wow. What makes you think that?”

Ellie unfolds her tattooed arm to rub her palm against the back of her neck, responding unexpectedly timid, “Hey, ‘m not blind. I know you’re popular.” 

You snicker at her explanation and shake your head. “They’re friends. You can be friends with girls even if you’re gay, Ellie.”

“Friends don’t touch you like that.” She notes with an uncharacteristically stern expression.

It surprises you for a second, but all it makes you wanna do is poke fun, tease her, and see where it’d go. “Like what?”

Ellie sighs, reluctantly explaining further, “Like they’ve touched you before.”

“Straight girls are touchy.” You shrug, purposefully ignoring what she tried to imply. 

The way you said it so matter-of-factly makes Ellie’s eyes roll. “You know I don’t mean it like– ugh, my judgment is usually fucked up, but that? That I can tell the difference with.” Ellie states with surety.

You narrow your gaze at her, a teasing grin forming on your lips. “What are you jealous or something?” 

“Of you or the girls?” 

“Oh, the girls were an option?” You playfully remark, but also with honest curiosity in how she’d answer. 

Ellie clears her throat and leans forward to place her textbooks into view, trying to hide the blush spreading across her features. She’s not doing a great job at it and you’d love to tease her some more, but you can settle with taking the win for now. 

—

Night crept up faster than you both anticipated, the ambient sounds of paper printing and carts rolling by were no longer prevalent. The only thing filling the room is the buzz of the light fixture above and the words you two exchange. The table is cluttered with Ellie’s open notes and some textbooks with neon page markers poking out the sides. It wasn’t organized by any means, but it was a mess you both found easy to work around. 

Surprisingly, Ellie is a great tutor. When she saw your paper, she didn’t make fun of you like you thought she would. Instead, she expressed how grating it is to remember all that crap and you shouldn’t give yourself a hard time over it. 

To help you memorize the muscles of the body, you guys settled on one area and made up silly rhymes for it. She tried to argue that brachiosaurus was perfect for brachialis even though it didn’t even rhyme. You even gave her the chance to pick a different one, but then she said brachyceratops with a mockingly straight face and you knew she couldn’t be trusted for the task anymore.

The air between you two wasn’t stuffy or silent like you feared it’d be. Ellie made you laugh, not in the breathy forced way you’ve unknowingly gotten used to making. 

She made sure you listened to her tips & tricks, made you review your mistakes so you wouldn’t repeat them again.

You hadn’t picked up your phone for anything other than to google things on the subject, and your ringer? Off. Your attention never strayed far from her. That made her undeniably nervous– sweaty, and hard for her to breathe normally, but she could  acknowledge how well she was doing.

Ellie’s head is dipped down to a paper you two were working on and you’re openly ogling, wondering how she’d look in a pair of glasses. Flipping through papers, tapping the back of a pen on her inviting lips. You tell yourself you snap back to reality before your mind strays any further. 

“If we keep this up, you’ll remember it all in no time” She encourages, eyes still glued on the paper. Secretly, she hopes it takes a little longer. Just a little.

“Thanks for helping me out, Els.” You say, face tilted into the palm of your hand. 

Ellie looks up from the paper to give you a smile, but she doesn’t hold her gaze for long. A millisecond later and her blush would have you thinking she had a sudden, terrible fever. 

“It’s no problem. It helps me out too.” Ellie points to the examples she sketched out for you with her pencil. She pauses before speaking again, trying to get rid of the sudden dryness in her mouth, “Can I ask you something?” 

Studying her expectantly, you lift your head off your hand. “Yeah?” 

Ellie fidgets with her pencil, trying to muster up courage. Her mouth feels dry trying to push out the words. “I’m also struggling with a class and uh,” she twirls her pencil in one hand, tucking a sliver of her hair behind her ear with the other, “I was wondering if you could be the model for my art final?” Her question came out whinier than she’d like it to, making her freckled-face wince. 

You can sense how nervous she is about asking, but you can’t place your finger on why she ever would be. This is the first time anyone has ever asked you something like this, so in your mind it’s nothing but exciting, especially coming from her. You can already imagine yourself sitting prettily still while Ellie studies you and paints long, fancy strokes on a yellow canvas. “Ellie, are you kidding? I’d love to.” 

Her lashes flutter in disbelief, “Really?”

“You’re helping me, so why not? It’s fair.”

“It’s kind of a weird thing to ask. I mean, we barely know each other.” Ellie murmurs, unaware that you have absolutely no idea what she’s on about. 

You lift a brow at her. “We will eventually, right? What’s weird about a portrait anyways?” 

“It’s not a portrait… Well, I guess it is–“ Ellie sighs into her palm, “I’m drawing you, but…” She cringes before she can finish her sentence. 

“A portrait in pencil? What am l missing?” You slowly question. 

“Think Titanic.” She grimaces as she waits for your reaction, trying not to bang her head on the table for picking Titanic of all movies. 

“Titanic? What does that have to do with…” Your voice trails off, quieting down so you can process what Ellie said. Think Titanic. It's hard for you to connect what the 1997 romance movie had to with this, but when it connected, it connected. The infamous drawing scene was memorable. You’re in awe, not quite sure how to react. 

“You don’t have to be fully… y’know..” Ellie insists. 

Your face is still unreadable, as if you're lost in thought, and it’s freaking her out. Too many what-ifs are going through her head, all of them gradually getting worse the longer you stay silent. She thinks she got too close to the sun when she had more than enough warmth. She's already preparing herself for rejection, worryingly scouting your face for a hint of revulsion; however, it never comes.

“Oh. Okay.” You calmly respond with a shrug, your face still unreadable; the only difference being a light smile. You could’ve thought about it longer, but you’re so flattered Ellie wants you to pose for her that you rather worry about it later. She wants to sketch your body onto paper. Yours. It sounds vulnerable and a little nerve wracking, but she’s your friend. A friend you have a crush on, sure, but you wouldn’t want to inconvenience her over it. Plus, you owe her now. Really, you’re purely being selfless. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“Okay?” Ellie repeats to make sure she was hearing things right.

“Like I said, you’re doing this for me, so I’ll do it for you.” You reassure, gesturing around to the study session laid across the table. 

“Are you sure? You know I’ll still tutor you, even if you say no–”

“— Do you not want me to?” You pout your lips, hoping she hasn't changed her mind already.

“Are you shitting me? Of course I do. I just… didn’t expect you to say yes.” Ellie finally says, absolutely dumbfounded given her hand movements. 

You laugh melodically, “Didn’t think that far, huh?” 

“Nope.” She answers with a cute embarrassed smile, her blood rushing to her face. 

Your phone buzzes, probably a text or notification. You reach out and shove a few papers to the side to get to it before taking a look, only for your eyes to be drawn to the time. “Shit. It’s late. I think the library closes soon…” You murmur regretfully, feeling all too comfortable where you were.

Ellie presses her tongue against her cheek in annoyance, upset that time dared to pass by as fast as it did. “We should get going then, I guess.” She says dejectedly, not wanting to leave you just yet. 

You peep her suddenly gray aura and smile warmly towards her. “Can you walk me back to my dorms?”

She nods with subtle enthusiasm and pushes out of her seat, immediately packing all her belongings to join your side. “Yes! — I mean, sure. Yeah.”

—-

The lamp post lights are warm and waning, complimenting the shadows on both your faces. You two walk down the dark flagstone path towards the housing area, chatting about nothing. It’s nice to be able to spend a little more time with her before the night is over. Unfortunately, you guys were drawing closer and closer to your dorm and the feeling of loss came as quick as it left. 

“Hey, Els?” 

She glanced at you and hummed in response, giving you the signal to continue. “I was wondering if you were gonna be at some party tomorrow? Apparently Dina’s co-hosting it.”

Ellie looks at you quizzically before looking off elsewhere to think. “Why the fuck would they party on a Sunday?”

You snort out a laugh before lifting and dropping your shoulders, “I don’t know, senioritis or something. Will you come though?”

“Mhm, I’ll be there.” She smiles as she speaks, loving how your face lit up by the end of it. Ellie isn’t too fond of parties, but for you? She can make an exception.

You cheer in a whisper tone and it makes Ellie smile harder, her features creasing in adoration. You two finally approach your dorm building. You walk up a step before turning to wave goodbye. She raises a palm in return and you flash her a smile that makes her heart leap before turning into the building.

If Ellie couldn’t tell before, she’s completely enamored by you. 

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a/n: fuck jk rowling but i rlly couldnt think of any other commonly known fantasy book :/

taglist: @bready101 @pascals-doll @macaroni676 @khai-le @pedropascalsbbg @seraphicsentences @starlight-savegery @snowy-vee @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @a-little-bit-of-everybody @elliesactualgirlfriend

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 19

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18

AO3

Word Count: 3.5k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58 @justheretoreadthxxs @blakelysco-pilot

A/N: I'm sooo sorry this chapter took so long!! things have been super busy lately and my motivation to write was so low it was literally in hell. But! we got there eventually - please enjoy!! <3

December 1945

Morning sunlight flooded the room, the hustle and bustle of New York sounding through open windows as Frankie pried open a new paint can with a grunt, leaving a smudge of blue in her wake as she raised a paint-stained hand to wipe across her forehead. With each brush stroke, the room grew more alive with colour as everything steadily seemed to come together.

She'd been up since before dawn. Sleep didn't come easily these days.

Hair pulled messily out of her face, Frankie dressed in a pair of Rosie's old pyjamas, the shirt only half-buttoned, left open where it became too small to reach across her swelling stomach. A bassinet remained unassembled in the hall, waiting for its spot to be ready, and the smell of coffee wafted up from downstairs, a surefire sign that Rosie had awoken too, undoubtedly readying for work.

Within a few minutes, he came to her, hovering in the doorway in his suit - the one that was tailored the best, the one that made her melt a little no matter how many times he wore it. "Morning," She called with a smile, adjusting a piece of masking tape along the window frame. The sun caught her at just the right angle, illuminating her silhouette as she straightened.

"You're beautiful," Rosie beamed, crossing the room towards her. Lifting a hand to cup her cheek, he brought his lips to hers, delivering a gentle kiss.

"Ah-ah," Frankie chided, ducking backwards as she lifted her hands in surrender. "Paint hands." He chuckled as she scampered from the room, scurrying to the bathroom to wash away the streaks of wet paint that stained her hands to preserve that excellent suit of his.

He was waiting when she returned, a pleased smile creasing his cheek as she returned the first kiss, one of his palms pressed against her stomach. As she finally pulled away, he raised a hand, stifling a chuckle as the pad of his thumb rubbed at the paint staining her face.

"Don't work yourself too hard, honey," He urged, entirely unable to meet her eye without a smile creeping across his expression.

"Oh, you know me," She teased, straightening his tie.

Scoffing, Rosie shook his head slightly. "That's the problem."

Frankie shrugged. "Eh. Bucky's coming over in a bit, might sit down for a whole ten minutes. I'll drop by the garage for a bit just to check in."

"Have him drive you," He nodded, turning to head for the door.

"I can drive!" She protested. Rosie let out a bark of laughter, swinging back on his heel.

"No, you cannot - for the safety of New York, I beg."

Frankie guffawed, batting a hand in his direction. "Get outta here!"

"Yes ma'am," Rosie grinned, tipping an imaginary cap before disappearing down the hall.

Once again alone in the nursery, she smiled to herself, chuckling as her fingers drummed against her stomach. "Your dad thinks I'm a terrible driver," She whispered as if confiding a secret to the child within her. "Although, your uncle Bucky says it too, so they might be onto something. Either way, it looks like I won't be doing the school run."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A little over an hour later, the doorbell sounded, startling Frankie enough to make her jump, a splatter of paint falling from her brush and staining her sock as she cursed beneath her breath. Waddling slightly as she made her way downstairs, she seized a sweater from the back of a nearby chair, tugging it up over her head to cover her stomach. As she wrenched the door open, gaze settling on the figure standing on the front step, she fought the urge to grin.

"I'm sorry, do we know each other?"

"Shut up," Bucky chuckled, stepping inside as he wrapped her in a hug. "You look huge."

"You smell bad," Frankie grimaced.

"Late night."

"Oh yeah?" She raised a brow, a smirk curling her lip as he shrugged nonchalantly, a faint splash of colour tinting his cheeks. "Anything to share with the class?" Bucky frowned, side-stepping his way inside like he owned the place

"Oh come on," Frankie groaned, shutting the front door with a slam. "I haven't been out for a drink in months, I need someone to live vicariously through."

"There... may have been a girl."

"Knew it," She grinned, scurrying into the front room to take a seat in one of the armchairs. "Sit, sit, sit!"

"Jesus, you need to get out more," Bucky muttered, perching on the edge of the couch. "That baby's making you weird."

"Not the point. Start talking."

Throwing his hands up in frustration, he let out a sigh. "I don't know! I got drunk and we danced - she was pretty, I think her name was... Jo? Josephine. But other than that I got nothin', so I'll probably never see her again."

Frankie let out a long, agonised groan as she pushed herself back up out of her seat, waddling towards the kitchen. "God, what's the point of living through you if all you do is make stupid decisions?"

"Where are you going?" Bucky called after her, craning his neck to watch as she disappeared into the kitchen. It was quiet for a while until she reappeared in the doorway, a plate of shortbread in her hand, already chewing a mouthful.

"You want some?"

He snorted back a laugh, smiling sceptically. "You made those?"

"They're the only thing I'm good at. Three ingredients." She mused, licking some sugar from her fingertip as she returned, putting the plate down on the coffee table. Lowering herself back into her chair, Frankie let out a groan, the feeling of weight being taken from her practically euphoric. "So. What's the plan for tracking down this Jo?"

Bucky threw his hands up in despair. "I dunno. It's impossible."

Her eyes narrowed slowly. "I don't think I've ever heard you say those words," Frankie teased. "Do it again. Slowly."

"Shut up," He frowned, stuffing a piece of shortbread into his mouth to avoid having to speak for at least a little while.

"I just never knew you to be a coward," She shrugged. "You're setting a bad example for the baby."

Bucky scoffed, a few crumbs blowing loose from his moustache. "The baby doesn't know what's going on."

Frankie felt a stretch within her as the baby kicked out with her tiny foot. "Oh, she begs to differ."

"Oh my God."

"Hm?"

"I just realised there's actually gonna be two of you. I dunno if I can cope with that."

"Oh, don't tell me Uncle Bucky's gonna shirk his duties."

"...Uncle Bucky?"

"Mhm."

He began to grin, chuckling to himself, unable to suppress his smile as he leant back into his seat. "Well... alright. I think I can work with that."

Frankie mirrored his smile, the room falling into quiet for a long moment before she snapped her fingers.

"Ok. You're giving me a lift to work."

"Oh, am I?"

"Yep. Rosie says I'm not allowed to drive."

"Oh, yeah, no, good call actually. I'll get my coat," Bucky nodded firmly, fumbling for his keys as he rose to his feet.

"Well, I was thinking I'd go put proper clothes on first," She pointed out. He turned, taking in her appearance, the sleeves of Rosie's sweater dangling past her fingertips, paint-stained socks peeking out beneath the hem of her pyjama bottoms.

"Seems fair."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bucky's car vanished around the corner as Frankie headed inside through the open garage door, groaning slightly as she craned backwards, stretching her back against the weight it carried. The place was alive with work, her staff bustling away as they tweaked and mended the cars in their custody, a raucous whirr filling the air and bringing her back to the countless hours spent in her father's shop as a girl.

"Mrs Rosenthal," One of the mechanics nodded to her as she waddled past, tipping an imaginary cap in her direction.

"Mornin', Ted," She paused, stepping up beside him as he peered beneath the hood of one of the cars. "How's it lookin'?"

"Think we got a problem with one of the carburettor valves - I'll take it out and have a look, but we'll probably have to order a part."

"Alright," Frankie hummed. "I'm sending out an order later anyway, if you can get it checked today I should be able to get it in fast."

"Thanks, Frank," Ted smiled, the pair exchanging nods as she headed towards the office, which sat tucked away in the far rear of the place, its windowed walls giving her a perfect view of everything that went on.

"Excuse me?" A voice echoed through the garage, barely audible over the roar of machinery, giving Frankie pause as her hand reached for the office door. A woman lingered in the entryway, clutching her purse as she glanced around hoping to be noticed. Her blonde hair was pulled back in neat curls, a pleasant smile curling red lips as she met Frankie's eye.

"Hi!" She grinned, meeting the woman in the middle of the room as they headed towards each other. "What can I do for ya?"

"I'm just here to pick up my car, I brought it in a few days ago."

"Alright, no worries," Frankie nodded, back-tracking towards the office to grab her clipboard "What's the name?"

"Josephine Pitz."

She paused, slowly looking up from her notes, her earlier conversation with Bucky replaying in her head.

"Mhm. Ok. If you could just take a seat, I'll go deal with the paperwork and you'll be good to go," Frankie urged, waddling at full speed back to her office as Josephine found a chair.

Alone in the privacy of her office, she grabbed the papers, fumbling for the phone on her desk as she forcibly dialled the familiar number. Holding the handset between her shoulder and her chin, she scribbled away, deigning not to get too precious about her terrible spelling as she waited for her friend to pick up.

"Hello?" Bucky's voice came down the line.

"I think I've found the answer to your Josephine problem."

She heard him scoff. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"Shut up, she's just come in. Josephine Pitz - blonde hair, green eyes... great legs."

"Oh shit."

"That's what I'm saying! Get down here right now - knock on the back door."

"Alright, yeah - On it."

The line beeped as he hung up, and she couldn't help but chuckle at the mental image of Bucky scrambling to get out of the house, scurrying to his car in a frenzied hurry. Frankie pushed herself closer to the desk, the table's edge digging into her stomach as she signed off on the last paper, only half paying attention as she focused on keeping Josephine firmly in her peripheral vision.

After ten minutes of clumsy stalling, the knock of a fist against the back door came as a welcome intrustion, and Bucky was scarcely able to offer greetings before he found Frankie's lunch thrust into his hands.

"Wh-?"

"Go round the front - pretend I forgot this, and Rosie's asked you to bring it."

He looked down at the crumpled paper bag, nodding firmly. "Good plan. Great plan. Ok."

"Right, go."

Flashing her a grin of excitement, Bucky disappeared around the side of the building, appearing mere seconds later at the front entrace, her lunch held aloft as if in victory. Josephine did a double take, eyes widening slightly in recognition, whilst he seemed to be pretending he hadn't noticed her yet. It struck Frankie as an odd decision.

"Here you are," Bucky declared, holding the bag out to her with a smile as he approached. "Can't keep forgetting this. Feedin' two n' all."

"Oh! Yes, thank you," Frankie nodded. Even when unable to see her own face, she could tell her attempt at appearing surprised was not going terribly well.

"... John?" Josephine's voice intruded. He turned to face her. If Frankie's effort at feigning shock had been unsuccessful, his was worse.

"Jo? Huh! Fancy seeing you here!"

Jo's jaw hung slightly slack, gaze darting between them as the gears turned in her head. Bucky and Frankie stood frozen, waiting for her to speak.

"... Oh my god, you're married?!"

Some kind of terrible squawk escaped Frankie's throat, an awkward middle ground between a choke and a guffaw. "Oh, Jesus, no! No, no - see the Rosenthal & Co. sign outside? I'm the Rosenthal. He's Egan, completely unrelated."

Jo's frown faded slightly, brows still pinched as the shock of what she thought she'd realised slowly wore off. Briefly glancing at Bucky, he offered her an awkward thumbs-up.

"So... Who's the 'Co.'?"

"Right here," Frankie patted her stomach, which barely fit beneath the buttons of her coveralls.

"... Huh."

"We're just friends," Bucky assured. "We worked together during the war."

"This whole thing was just a set-up attempt, cuz he was at my house earlier talking about you," Frankie shrugged.

Suddenly the others were both staring at her with expressions of equal alarm. She paused, clicking her tongue awkwardly.

"I am... gonna go get your car. Just... carry on without me."

"Please go away now," Bucky uttered.

"Yep."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

5th January 1946

Christmas lights still bathed the living room in a flickering array of red and green, the tree long since wilted and thrown away, although neither of them had quite found the time to take down any of the other decorations. There always seemed to be another job that needed doing more urgently, and as the days passed, Frankie found herself more and more open to Rosie's pleas that she simply sit down, rest, and let him take care of it all.

He was lounging in one of the armchairs, newspaper unfolded in his lap, a few dry patched of paint still staining his shirt from where he'd helped her to finish painting the nursery. Padding across the room, Frankie's eyes screwed shut as she let out a yawn, only opening them as she felt his hand gently tugging at her wrist. She hadn't even had to look at him to know what he wanted, hearing the rustle of the newspaper being cast aside as she lowered herself to perch in his lap, wrapping an arm around the back of his neck as his hand rubbed circles against her spine.

"God, I'm bored of waiting for this baby," Frankie sighed. He hummed, breath warming her skin as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, a bubble of laughter escaping her throat.

"Not much longer now," He said, voice muffled against her as he held her as close as he could, the red and green lights reflecting against the polished metal of her ring.

"... You think it's time for the decorations to come down?" Rosie asked, chin resting against her shoulder as he glanced around the room.

"No," She tutted. "I like the idea of it still being Christmas when she gets here."

"You're so sure it's a girl?"

"Oh, yeah. And I'm always right."

"Of course."

A soft finger against his jaw tilted Rosie's face to look up, his eyes softening without delay the moment they landed upon her. Her hair had been messily scraped back into a ponytail, loose strands sticking out at every angle. But her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes were bright, and to him, she'd never been more beautiful. Frankie pressed a quick kiss to his lips, their foreheads resting against one another as they both let their gazes travel to her bulging stomach.

"You're gonna be such a good dad," She hummed, barely more than a whisper. He lifted his head, pressing another, longer kiss to her temple.

"She's gonna love you," He muttered against her skin. Frankie shrugged, fiddling with the cuff of her sleeve. After a beat of silence, Rosie pulled away, looking her in the face. "You okay, honey?"

"I dunno, I just," She sighed. "I don't remember my mum. I don't really remember how they're supposed to... be."

Sucking in a long, deep breath, he wrapped his arms tighter around her, a frown creasing his brow.

"You're not supposed to be anything. You're already the kindest, funniest, smartest person I know. And you've got your dad - if you're anything like him at all, our kid's gonna be just great."

Rosie chuckled as she wrapped her arms around his head, squeezing it in a vice grip. She kissed his scalp firmly before resting her cheek against his hair. "I love you."

"I love you so much," He said, muffled against her sweater. But she could hear the smile in his voice.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

10th January 1946

Frankie's face was still drenched with sweat, hair clinging to her temples as she cradled the tiny infant in her arms, unable to wipe the grin from her cheeks even for a second. Even as exhaustion willed her eyes to close, she couldn't bring herself to look away. "Oh, there you are," She whispered as a gurgle escaped the girl's throat, her hand so small it could do nothing but wrap around her mother's pinky finger.

Rosie wiped away the sweat from Frankie's brow, hand ceaselessly gentle. "You feeling okay?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," She nodded. He looked down at the baby in her arms, eyes welling with immediate tears. A tired laugh escaped Frankie's throat. "Oh, honey. You wanna hold her?"

Beaming at the prospect, he reached out to softly pry the child from her mother's grip, his hands so big against her tiny frame that it seemed almost impossible that something so small could even exist. "Hi there Maggie," He sang, sniffing loudly as he tried to blink away the tears before they could roll down his cheeks. Frankie reached out a hand, wiping them away with the pad of her thumb.

A soft knock sounded at the door, cautious and restrained as whoever stood outside waited patiently, hesitant to intrude.

"Come in!" Frankie called, voice mellow to avoid stirring the baby.

Creaking slowly open, George's head poked inside, a wide-eyed smile crumbling as she processed the scene in front of her. "God, I said I wasn't gonna cry," She tutted, wiping her eyes as she hovered in the doorway, as if hesitant to make her entrance before she'd fully composed herself.

"Oh, who cares, c'mere," Frankie laughed, holding out her arms as her best friend hurried forward. Passing the baby with barely more than a glance, she enveloped her in a fierce hug, perching on the edge of the bed beside her.

"I'm so proud of you," George choked back a sob, raising a hand to stroke Frankie's hair out of her face. "You smell terrible."

"Just like the old days, huh?" She laughed. "Although I did just have a bloody baby, do you actually want to see her?"

"Oh, shit, yeah," George sniffed, wiping her tears as she pulled out of the hug. Rosie was still standing in the corner with Maggie, a smitten smile creasing his cheeks, seemingly unaware of anything else around him.

"Rosie," Frankie prompted gently, snapping him out of his trance.

"Hm? Oh, yeah," He looked up, edging towards George so that she could get a peek at the child beneath her bundle of blankets.

"Hiya," She whispered, grinning as she leaned closer, lifting her hand so that the baby could wrap a chubby hand around her finger. "What's her name?"

"Margaret. Well, Maggie," Rosie smiled.

"Margaret Georgina Rosenthal," Frankie pointed out, George's eyes widening as she turned to look back at her.

"Shut the fuck up," She blurted, hand raised almost immediately to cover her mouth, glancing nervously back at the baby as if she somehow understood. Rosie began to laugh, the vibration of his chest making Maggie gurgle happily. "You didn't."

He shrugged. "Well, we thought that you-"

"I don't even like that name!"

Frankie snorted. "I know!"

George groaned. "Fine, well, I think she suits it better anyway." She nodded to Rosie, wordlessly asking his permission, and he gently placed Maggie into her arms. "Yeah. She's a cool baby."

"Bucky's coming to see her later," Frankie said. "He'll be mad I didn't somehow find a way to name her after him."

"He's gonna cry," "He's gonna cry," George and Rosie stated simultaneously, lifting their gazes from the baby to look at each other, snorts of laughter escaping them both.

"Alright, that's enough, give me my baby," She grunted, shifting forward on the bed and holding out her arms. Maggie let out a series of gargling sounds as George lowered her into Frankie's arms, tiny eyes staring up at her mother as she held her close. She let out a faint chuckle, stroking her thumb across her cheek.

"Yeah... She is gonna be pretty great."

[corazondebeskar-reads]

you know you never stood a chance - deleted scene #3

you know you never stood a chance series

deleted scene #3: the things we lost

series masterlist

Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 2k

Summary: You visit Joel to continue paying your debt and accidentally hit on a sensitive subject. This deleted scene takes place between chapters two and three. This is the only one I regret not including because it shines a light on the abrupt change in their dynamic.

Warnings: established sex-for-food transactional situationship, qz!Joel, Joel is mean, Joel has trauma, poor communication, oral (m receiving), spanking, over the knee spanking, brief mention of injury, hurt feelings, hurt/no comfort, reader has enough hair to braid

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s been sixteen days since you turned to Joel for help after breaking your wrist. Sixteen days of going to his apartment after work.

He never gives you cards. You thought that’s how it would work, that he would supplement your income. Instead, he cooks dinner for you every night. Not that he ever eats with you, but still.

He’s a surprisingly good cook, especially given what there is to work with.

Tonight, though, you’re in a mood. Work was grueling; it was shipment day when trades came in from other QZs. It involved a lot of hauling heavy shit in the pouring rain.

Well, you weren’t hauling anything with your arm still in the sling. No, instead, you ran back and forth to report inventory and notes from the drivers, tasked with ferrying paperwork inside your jacket to keep it dry.

You got stuck there late, and it’s 8:15 when you knock on Joel’s door.

You’re soaked through three layers, and there’s mud caking your boots and pant legs. Your hair is disheveled; the braid your sister hastily wove this morning having deteriorated rapidly.

And there’s a fucking sliver in the pointer finger of your good hand. Such a tiny thing to be upset about—just a bad end to a bad day.

Joel opens the door. “You’re late,” he grunts.

Your lip twitches into a sneer, pushing anything you can in front of the way your eyes sting.

He does a double take. “Why’re you cryin’? Somebody hurt you?”

You’re humiliated to find that he’s right, and the hot tears have started to boil over. You scrub at them uselessly with your rain-soaked fist and swallow down the feeling. Feelings, actually. All of them.

“Never mind, I’ll just go home,” you snap.

“Don’t be stupid. Get inside.” He makes room for your body to slip through between his broad frame and that of the door.

You’re winding up, leaning over the edge, so you ignore him and start to handle your problems. “Got tweezers?”

“Bathroom cabinet,” he says, reaching and grabbing the afflicted hand.

You yank it from him. “I can fuckin’ handle it,” you snap before stomping off. It’s less effective with your boots tucked away by the door, threadbare socks failing to emphasize your attitude.

It’s only when you’ve dug them out of the cabinet and sat on the edge of his tub that you realize you actually can’t handle it. When you open the door to sheepishly ask for help, he’s leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed, foot tapping, and eyebrows raised.

“Don’t start,” you snap.

He crowds you into the cramped bathroom, brow furrowed as he takes your hand in both of his to examine it.

He lets go and rifles through his supplies. You sit on the tub and wait with your finger extended, shrinking into yourself.

He settles on one knee, the other propped up, and tugs your hand onto his leg. He doesn’t have the tweezers, though. He has a little needleless syringe.

“What’re you doing?” you ask, eyebrows shooting skyward and voice following.

“Jus’ relax,” he says.

You watch as he lines up the syringe with where the wood has dug in, only a hair’s breadth wide and less than half a centimeter long. When he draws the plunger back, it sucks until the sliver slips free of your skin.

“Ain’t gonna say thank you? Do I need to spank that attitude outta ya?” he drawls, standing up and neatening the rummaged supplies.

“I—” you hesitate, and he looks over his shoulder at you. “Can it be both?”

It’s his turn to hesitate. “You just want me to be rough with ya, or are ya askin’ me to bend you over my knee?”

Your face is burning, and you can’t look at him. “Dunno, I didn’t like, think about it. Had a hard day. Just… just wanna feel somethin’ else. Dealer’s choice?”

“Okay,” he says and leaves the room.

You sit there on the lip of the tub for a moment, wondering why you never just shut up before you wind up in these situations.

You can hear him sigh impatiently, so you get up and shuffle out to the living room. You hover at the edge, watching where he’s sat on the couch, fingers tapping against your leg.

“Change your mind?” he says, looking you up and down.

You shake your head.

“Get outta those wet clothes,” he says, but he realizes the problem as soon as he’s said it. “Just c’mere.”

When you’re standing between his spread legs, he helps you peel off the muddy jeans and t-shirt, only to find your undergarments soaked through as well. Once you’re stripped bare, he tugs you onto his lap and wraps a worn fleece blanket around you.

“Listen up,” he says, rubbing the blanket over you like a towel. “If we’re gonna do this, I want to make one thing clear. You listenin’?”

You nod, looking up at him. His eyes are so pretty, you think. Have you ever been this close to him without his dick inside you? You hadn’t noticed the little flecks of green toward the center before.

“Got it?” he says.

Shit. “Um,” you say.

“Um,” he taunts. “You didn’t hear a goddamn word, did ya?”

“Maybe if you had more interesting things to say—”

“Knock it off. I’m bein’ serious. You want me to do this? I need to hear you say it.”

“I want you to.”

“To what?”

You’re burning again, the blanket suddenly a barbecue. You squirm.

He raises an eyebrow.

“I want you to, um. I want you to spank me.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and you know you’re fucking done for.

He peels the blanket off you and pushes you until you’re draped over his lap. His hand rubs over your bare ass, and he chuckles when you flinch a little.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to shut your bratty little mouth up and teach ya a lesson?”

“From the day that we met?”

“Damn near. But that’s not what’s happenin’. You hear me?”

“What?”

“I’m not doin’ this to you because you don’t know when to shut up. I’m doin’ it because you want it. If you want it to stop, you tell me.”

“Okay.” You’re not really sure how to parse that. You figured he was thrilled for an excuse.

“Repeat it.”

“If I want it to stop, I tell you.”

“‘Atta girl,” he murmurs, before he lifts his hand and smacks your ass.

It’s not any harder than he does here and there when you fuck, but something about the situation amplifies it. You can’t choke back the moan.

He chuckles. The next slap is harder, and you gasp, lurching forward. He holds you steady on his lap with one strong arm across your shoulder blades.

“Too much?”

“No, s’good. Fuck.”

You’re not sure how long it goes on like that. He never goes harder than the second hit, and heat is building across your skin, but there’s also a lightness in your chest.

His hand settles eventually, rubbing over the raw flesh. “Y’know, you never did say thank you,” he muses.

You breathe for a moment and then slide off his lap, knees pressing into the dingy yellow carpet. You reach for his belt, but he beats you to it, freeing his cock. It practically springs out, smacking against your outstretched hand, and you wrap your greedy fingers around it.

You look up at him, stroking lightly, thumb rolling over the slit. “Thank you, Joel,” you say, and take him in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he hisses, grabbing at your already-ruined braid. “Y’ain’t gotta thank me, pretty girl. It was just a splinter.”

You go to pull off his cock, indignant, but he catches your head, pushing you back down.

He doesn’t give you another chance to respond, fucking up into you.

You do your damn best, which is getting to be quite good, actually. You’re practicing a lot, after all.

After you swallow him down, he lets you rest your cheek on his thigh. Encourages it, actually, with his hand in your hair. You zone out and maybe (definitely) doze off.

When he wakes you, you feel the difference right away.

Your good hand reaches up cautiously despite something of a warning rumbling from him as he stands.

“Alright, c’mon,” he says, intending to steer you into the kitchen.

But you can’t leave well enough alone. “You fixed my hair.”

“Yep.”

“You… braided my hair.” You keep touching it.

“Sure. Come eat.” His arms are crossed over his chest, and you can’t read his face at all. There’s just… nothing.

It’s not a fumbled, sloppy three-strand, either. It’s not perfect; he didn’t have a comb or product (but then again, neither do you). But he has unmistakably given you two thick twists. And not only that, he did it so gently, it didn’t wake you up.

“You styled it.”

“Don’t you know when to shut up?” he snaps.

But you don’t, and he should know that, you think. He’s fucking met you before. “How do you—did you have long hair? Oh, shit, was it for Tommy? He has long hair, right?”

Joel is suddenly very, very close. “Shut the fuck up.”

Blood drains from your face very quickly. It’s not that you’ve never seen him angry. But this… this is different. He’s looking at you like he could grind you under his boot and never think of it again. Like he wants to.

You take a half-step back. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, bringing him up—”

“Get out.”

“What?” You stare at him, jaw ajar.

His face is mangled into something ferocious and horrible. He looks like the nightmare they whisper about on the streets.

It’s the first—and only—time you’re afraid of Joel Miller.

“We’re done here. Get out. Deal’s off.”

You don’t argue. You pull your damp, disgusting shirt and pants on, balling up your undergarments in your jacket and grabbing your boots on your way out the door.

After practically running barefoot up the four floors to your apartment, you notice the burning in your eyes.

Why are you crying about this? You didn’t do anything wrong, and you sure as shit don’t care what an asshole like Joel Miller thinks of you.

You’re relieved to find your apartment empty, the scrawled note from your sister still sitting on the counter.

“Staying with Jeremy, IDK when coming home don’t worry love u”

Like you weren’t going to worry.

You drop all your clothes in the sink and step in for a quick, shivering shower.

You're toweling off when there’s a knock at your door.

By the time you get dressed to peek through the porthole, whoever it was is gone.

But something weird urges you to open it and look around. There’s no sign of anyone, even on the stairs, but you do almost trip and spill the bowl that sits, slightly steaming.

Your eyes close for a moment, but you bend down and carefully pick up the dish with your good hand.

The conflict in you is very brief. It’s strange food from who knows where, could be poisoned, could be rotten, could be drugged.

But you know, really. The ache of nausea eases in your gut, and you tell yourself it’s from the hearty smell of the stew. Not at all from the possibility he doesn’t hate you after all.

But in the morning, your supervisor pulls you aside. He’s wringing his hands and keeps twitching to look over his shoulder. You’re not going to be on half rations anymore, he explains. You’re healed enough that it’s not a problem and he trusts you’ll do the best that you can.

If Joel could have done this, could have terrified your boss in the first place, why didn’t he? What had it cost him?

Did he really do something risky or put himself in a bad position so he’d never have to see you again?

But you also know he could have just… not. He could have left you to go hungry.

And maybe, you think. Maybe it didn’t cost him a thing, from the way your supervisor won’t look you in the eye.

Maybe he could have done this all along.

(p.s., he doesn't get his bowl back until you move in.)

(p.p.s., you figure out this whole incident after moving to Jackson. you try to apologize but he just mumbles "s'nothin', you didn't know.")

*title from "Things We Lost in the Fire" by Bastille

[yanderes-galore]

Based on a poll I did awhile ago, have some small little thoughts I had :) I tried to do research since I'm not very familiar with the source material but what I essentially got from it is "it's meant to be chaotic and fun" so that is what I'm working with. I apologize for inaccuracies!

This was written differently from my usual concepts but this was just how it flowed. I embraced the chaos. Yes I know AIW is not about drug use but Ace's part still has themes of it.

Yandere! Dead By Daylight x Alice In Wonderland Concept/Ideas

(Including Mad Hatter! Ace, Alice! Kate, and Cheshire Cat! Nea)

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Slight implications of drug use, Delusional behavior, Kidnapping implied, Manipulation, Dubious companionship, Blood mentioned, Nea is mentioned to have cat-like features despite how the cosmetic looks, Brief stalking mention on Nea's part.

Ace Visconti - The Mad Hatter

The Mad Hatter is the definition of chaos in the story!

He's unpredictable and eccentric, completely erratic!

Hence... he's mad.

Ace takes on this role, decked out in make up and a colorful suit and hat.

He just wants to make you feel welcome as you stroll through your nightmare!

Have some tea and don't ask too many questions!

There is no real explanation to the chaos in this land.

A way you could meet him is maybe he mistakes you as the "Alice" he's meant to meet.

Or maybe you're a friend of an "Alice"!

Or perhaps... you've been the "Alice" he's meant to meet all along?

Either way... Ace, The Mad Hatter, is a sudden introduction to the madness.

If we're going to assume this AU is some sort of nightmare/alternate dimension then Ace will be one of your many guides in this new realm

Logic is thrown out the window here, so why no just give in?

Ace's goal is to make you forget reality.

Isn't that why you're here?

Don't you wish to forget reality and stay here?

Ace thinks the reason you're here is because you want a taste of something different?

So why don't you take a seat?

Sit by the table and have a sip of the drink he prepared.

You'll never have to return to reality if you stay with him!

What do you mean this is a nightmare?

This is Wonderland, dear!

Your Wonderland....

Don't fret or worry!

Ace will make sure you're given perfect hospitality!

Why do you even miss reality?

Isn't reality cruel?

Isn't it so much better here?

Please, ignore the blood on his suit... it isn't all that important.

All that matters is you finding happiness in this new realm!

Why'd you stop drinking the tea?

You say it tastes bitter?

But he made it just for you!

He wants you to feel... attuned to your new environment!

Oh... you look so tired, "Alice"....

Do you need any help?

It seems you've even spilled your tea....

He can't stay mad at you if you don't finish it, it appears it's not to your taste.

That's fine... as long as you give in to the chaos of this realm, everything will be fine!

He'll be the man of your nightmares and dreams if you just give into the madness deep within you, dear....

He'll be right beside you the whole time.

So why don't you lay your head to sleep?

It's so much better than reality.

Kate Denson - Alice

Oh, sweet innocent Alice...

Kate takes the role of this character in this story!

Or at least... she takes the role of a "Alice" in this story.

This realm seems to have many given such a title.

It just so happens you managed to cross paths with one.

People who are not local to this Dark Wonderland realm are referred to as an "Alice".

It's rare for one to meet another, but maybe it was fate?

Perhaps you both wanted an escape and ended up here?

Kate seems so overwhelmed of the new environment she's found herself in.

However, you seem to be experiencing the same?

Would you mind if she clings to you as you stroll through?

Everything seems so safe when you two stick together!

... so why do you look at her with such distrust?

Is it the blood on her dress?

... you aren't going to abandon her for that, right?

You're both an "Alice"! Surely you should stick together?

Even if you wanted to part from her... she isn't going to let you.

Coming to this realm she's already beginning to like it since she met you!

You could be her escape!

There's no need to be scared when you have her!

You're both meant to be the main characters of your own stories.

Kate only wants a guide through this nightmarish realm!

She doesn't think she ever wants to wake up if it means she'll leave you!

Simply meeting you has made this all feel like a dream!

Are you scared of The Hatter, or maybe the cat?

Perhaps even the Queen?

She doesn't blame you, but that must mean you'll trust her, right?

Kate thinks you two can make each other's life better.

It appears this "Alice" has already given into the madness...

Won't you join her, "Alice"?

Nea Karlsson - The Cheshire Cat

The Cheshire Cat is another important role in Wonderland.

Nea is the closest one to the "Guide" role compared to most locals in Wonderland, despite what others say.

She aids "Alices" as they walk through this realm of nightmares and twisted realities.

While she may seem helpful, she's still quite mischievous.

She's independent and often deceptive.

She often watches others carefully from the trees, taking the form of a human with cat-like features such as a tail and ears.

Perhaps in this world she even has the ability to have a fully cat form.

A small purple cat with a white scarf... often following you, her newest "Alice".

Nea knows you'll be frightened in this new world but encourages you to embrace the fun!

She often keeps close, be it human or cat.

She encourages you to smile and be happy!

Why else did you come here if not to have fun!

Nea doesn't mind if her "Alice" wishes to hold her in cat form.

If it brings you comfort then she'll comply.

Yet Nea is not without her games.

She speaks in riddles and mischievous pranks.

She purrs around you and often asks if you're enjoying your time.

She doesn't understand why you'd want to leave this realm of chaos.

Do you not like it?

Is it all too incomprehensible for you, "Alice"?

Are you scared whenever she disappears in thin air?

Do you feel lonely?

There's no need for such feelings....

She's always by your side even if you don't see her.

Nea will happily show you how to give into the madness!

You won't ever want to leave... you'll never leave her.

Just allow her to guide you!

All you need to do is stay by her and she'll be sure you'll never be alone again in this little fantasy.

[mykneeshurt]

Lie to me

Inspired by the tv show Lie to me, it’s so good. Two parter - smut in part 2.

Warnings - none really, language.

Ghost x F!Reader

Ghost stood outside the interrogation room, unable to take his eyes off you. His balaclava hid his face when on missions and when back at base, hiding his true expressions. His true intentions. It felt comfortable, hiding his face away from the rest of the world. Closing himself off. That was until you came along.

You were recruited from Dr Lightmans firm, a company that specialised in reading micro expressions. It proved beneficial when dealing with psychopaths, liars and getting information out of someone, fast. Something Ghost came across far too often in his line of work.

———

‘This is Dr Holland, she’ll be working with us on this mission. Get the target here alive. She’ll interrogate him’ Price stated, as he gave you a warm smile. As you darted your eyes across the room they clicked into place with Ghosts. Smiling to your self you sat down and observed the rest of the meeting.

As Ghost went to leave you stopped him. ‘I know you think what I do is bullshit Lieutenant.’ He peered down at you, seemingly unresponsive and emotionless. ‘I didn’t say a word.’ Offering him a smirk you leant up to his ear, your breath fanning across his skin. The smell of your floral, yet musky perfume invaded his senses. The subtle scent of your aura danced in the air between you. ‘You don’t have to Lieutenant. They say the eyes are the window the soul.’

He tensed, watching as you left the room. He didn’t know what he felt. Shock? Surprise? Bemusement? No one had ever been able to read him like that. Not even Price. It was a conversation he replayed over and over again. You captivated him, but also scared him. There was no where he could hide that you wouldn’t find him. For once in his life, he was vulnerable.

———

He watched as you manipulated the conversation, swerving each red herring and lie thrown at your feet. Your own expressions stoic, not giving anything away. ‘Where are you hiding the weapons?’ You asked, eyes trained on the person in front of you. ‘There aren’t any.’

‘I’m unsure why you lie to me.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Fine. Have it your way. Ghost?’ You called out looking over to the glass one way window. The militia member shifted in their seat, a minuscule about, but you clocked it.

Fear.

The door slowly opened, Ghosts’ frame filling the entry way. ‘Seems our friend here would prefer talk to you than me’ you sighed as you stood, brushing out the creases in your jacket. ‘They’re all yours.’ Ghost entered and stood behind them, placing his huge hands on their shoulders. Furrowing their brows they swallowed, shoulders tense, eyes darting round. ‘I don’t know, they don’t tell me where, just that we have them. Please.’ You watched them as they pleaded their case, a tear teased the brim of their eye.

Shirking your head in the direction of the door you signalled for you both to leave. ‘They don’t know anything’ you stated, arms crossed looking at them through the mirror. ‘You’re sure?’ He asked, quizzical. Nodding you sighed. ‘Yeah. Nothing in their expressions tells me they’re lying. Nothing more than a foot solider. Not trusted enough to know specifics.’ Stifling a laugh you sucked your teeth. ‘After all these months you still don’t believe me do you?’

‘Didn’t say anything.’

‘Don’t have to. Like I told you before, you’re more expressive than you think. You hide your face from everyone, but I see you Simon. Really see you. You can’t hide from me.’ A smug smirk tugged at your lips. With that you left him, standing in the lonely interrogation room as you went to inform Price on your findings.

————

Sitting in your office you tried to concentrate on your work, research, case studies etc. A heavy knock at your door pulled you from your work, ‘come in.’ The door swung open and before you even lifted your eyes you knew it was him. His presence was never lost on you, everything shifted when he was near. Dull footsteps approached your desk as two gloved hands placed themselves on the desk. His familiar scent of vanilla and sandalwood with a tinge of gunpowder swallowed you whole. Peering up at him you offered a warm smile, ‘everything ok?’

‘I dunno. Do you think everything’s ok?’ His voice was gravelly, hushed. He was hunched over the desk, the wood creaked beneath his weight. ‘You don’t like how I can read you. You want to know how I do it.’ Leaning back in your chair you motioned for him to sit, but he didn’t. Trying to take a stand against you, not wanting to submit. Accepting this challenge you walked over to your door, shutting it quietly. His broad form gripped onto the desk. Refusing to watch you.

‘Look at me.’ The statement was simple but loaded, he hated how he couldn’t fully read you. He prided himself on his ability to do this, it had saved his life more times than he could count. It gave him the upper hand in the field, but you? Snippets, if anything at all. You approached him from the side, as you would an unpredictable animal. ‘You hide your face insinuating you don’t want to be seen. At least here anyway’ you motioned to the building around you. ‘But emotions are primitive, they’re universal. Contempt. Disgust. Happiness. Love. It’s how we learnt to survive. Reading our environment, discerning friend from foe.’

You shrugged as you sat on the edge of your desk, his thick brown eyes watched you cautiously.

‘Lying for example’ you continued, ‘when we tell the truth our eyes dart around as we try to locate the memory to retell. When we lie we think we should hold eye contact, but it’s an ultimate tell. You’re not looking for the memory, you watch the persons face to see if they’re buying the lie.’ He remained steady, stoic, watching you, regarding you. ‘Like now’ you smirked ‘you’re still trying to decide if you believe or trust me. You know when you do that, you squint your eyes. You don’t even realise you do it, but you do.’

He stood, crossing his arms, pushing his chest out. You tongued your cheek, a cheeky smile on your face. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love making him feel uncomfortable. Making this 6’4 brute of a man crumble turned you in way more than it should have. Neither of you forgot the first time you were introduced, the months that followed which were torturous. Exchanged glances, touches here and there a deafening longing between the two of you that was finally coming to a head.

You nodded to his arms with a hum ‘annnnd now, you’ve put a barrier between us, trying to shut yourself off. Pushing your chest out because you don’t like being made to feel small, readable.’

Approaching him you placed a soft hand on his forearms ‘relax, I’m not here to intimidate or harm you. I’m just doing a job.’ Slowly he lowered his arms, though he was still tense. He closed the gap between the two of you, backing you up to the desk. For once you gave away how you felt, he clocked it instantly. Placing both hands beside your hips he closed you in, his muscular biceps shutting you off from your office.

Leaning down to your ear his voice was but a whisper, every syllable and letter perfectly annunciated. ‘You may be able to read my face Doc. But I can read your body, I know how wet your cunt gets when I’m around you.’ You choked on air as your breath got lodged in your throat, stuck in the depths of your chest.

For once you were utterly speechless, suffocating in the little space there was between your bodies. The artery on your neck pulsated with defiance and lust.

Placing two fingers under your chin he forced you to look at him, a slight heat rose in your cheeks. ‘So responsive’ he whispered, glaring down at you under hooded lids. Prick was smirking under his mask. ‘I’ve seen how you look at me, how your body reacts when i get close to you.’ His face was tantalisingly close to yours, feeling every word he spoke ricochet off your lips.

You swallowed, hard. Your throat bobbed as a sharp inhale passed your lips, filling your oxygen starved lungs. He let out a satisfied grunt before turning on his heel throwing you a smug look before shutting the door behind him. A smile of disbelief shot across your lips, cocky bastard.

Your body had betrayed you.

꧂

A/N - I love this idea but I don’t think I’ve written it as well as I would have liked tbh.

[discodreaming]

HELLO! i've now opened my inbox for my followers/mutuals to talk to their favorite character!

you can send in random sentences, inbox prompts that you see on my blog or even confess your love!

please be sure to be respectful and kind to not only me but the muses.

this will be very much like roleplaying. to continue communication you can send in more inboxes or you can even link the inbox to a conversation to communicate with your beau/family/friend!

please do not request any minors/anthropomorphic in romantic or sexual ways, I'm begging you. i will only reply to the platonic/familial ones.

you may talk to at least 2 muses at once in one message, all to prevent being overwhelmed. this may change once i get comfortable enough to handle more.

all romantic and nsft inboxes or starters towards muses will require slow burn

all ships are multishipped but can be single shipped if you guys can build up their romance meter!

this will only be reader x character, oc x character i will put on either another blog or a different post.

* note: i will accept 5 oc x character in this post for the time being: 1/5

however for certain events i can bend these rules for you to get a romantic scene with your crushes!

or even just hanging out with your friends!

characters i will write for right now:

note: this list will change every now and then as i advance further into the shows or a character is requested more!

if you don't see a character you like here and would like to see me try my hand at playing them, don't be shy to tell me!

bold = characters I've played before

one piece! ( pre timeskip )

romantic options: nico robin, nami, sanji, zoro, usopp, buggy, sir crocodile, dracule mihawk, shanks, portgas d. ace

platonic options: chopper, franky ( may change ), luffy ( im currently on the pretimeskip )

up to debate: please ask !

rwby ! ( all season 9 ages )

romantic options: weiss schnee, blake belladonna, yang xiao long, jaune arc, taiyang xiao long, raven branwen, qrow branwen, emerald sustari, sun wukong, neptune vasillias, james ironwood, winter schnee, mercury black

platonic options: ruby rose, nora valkyrie, lie ren, pyrrha nikos, penny polendina, professor ozpin, oscar pine, neopolitan

up to debate: salem, cinder fall

fruits basket !

romantic options: shigure sohma, hatori soma, ayame soma

platonic options: tohru honda, yuki sohma, kyo sohma

castlevania animated !

romantic options: trevor belmont, adrian 'alucard' tepes, sypha belnades

edens zero !

romantic options: rebecca bluegarden, weisz steiner, homura kogetsu, kris rutherford, shiki granbell, labilla christy

platonic: happy, witch regret, sister ivry, hermit mio, valkyrie yuna, elise crimson, justice

d.gray man !

romantic options: yu kanda, lavi, tyki mikk, howard link, cross marian

platonic: allen walker, lenalee lee, nea d. campbell, wisely kamelot

psycho pass !

romantic options: akane tsuneori, shinya kogami, nobuchika ginoza, shuusei kagari, yayoi kunizuka, shion karanomori, shogo makishima

platonic: tomomoi masaoka

owari no seraph

romantic options: guren ichinose, ferid bathory, kureto hiiragi, shinya hiragi, seishiro hiiragi, crowley eusford

platonic: yuichiro hyakuya, mikaela hyakuya, shinoa hiiragi, yoichi saotome, shiho kimizuki, mitsuba sangu, krul tepes

yuukou no moriarty

romantic options: william james moriarty, albert james moriarty, louis james moiarty, sherlock holmes, fred porlock, sebastian moran, mycroft holmes, james bond

fate/ ( /zero & /stay night)

romantic options: saber, kirei kotomine, gilgamesh, cu chulainn

platonic: shirou emiya, rin tohsaka, waver velvet

up to debate: kiritsugu emiya, irisviel von einzbern, archer emiya, tokiomi tohsaka, diamuid ua duibhne

please don't: shinji matou, ryuunosuke uryu

fairy tail

romantic options: lucy heartfilia, gray fullbuster, erza scarlet, mirajane strauss, laxus dreyar, gildarts clive, loke, elfman strauss, juvia lockser, fried justine, evergreen, bickslow, rogue cheney, sting eucliffe, kagura mikazuchi, aguria yukino, natsu dragneel, mystogan, cana alberona, gajeel redfox, erik, jellal fernandes

platonic: wendy marvell

record of ragnarok

romantic options: adam, jack the ripper, kojiro sasaki, qin shi huang, hades, beelzebub, hermes

platonic: souji okita

up to debate: the valkyries, nikolas tepes, thor, poseidon, apollo,

obey me

romantic options: lucifer, mammon, levianthan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor,diavolo, barbatos, simeon, raphael, solomon,

platonic: luke

up to debate: thirteen, mephistopheles

kingdom hearts ( kingdom hearts iii )

romantic options: terra, aqua, xemnas, zexion, saix, axel, demyx,

platonic: sora, kairi, riku, roxas, namine, xion, ventus, vanitas, ephemer, skuld, brain

genshin impact

romantic options: wriothesley, albedo, alhaitham, ayaka, ayato, baizhu, ajax, cyno, dehya, diluc, eula, ganyu, itto, jean, kazuha, kokomi, xiao, heizou, shenhe, kaeya, rosaria, yae miko, beidou, lisa, kaveh, zhongli, nigguang, neuvillette, yela, candace, thoma, yanfei

platonic: hu tao, venti, faruzan, sucrose, chongyun, freminet, layla, mika, fischl, collei, noelle, yun jin, barbara, xingqiu, amber, bennette, xinyan

up to debate: keqing, lyney, aether, lumine, wanderer, lynette, kuki shinobu, sara, kiara, gorou, mona, nilou, yoimiya, charlotte

please don't: klee, sayu, qiqi, diona, dori, nahida, yaoyao

final fantasy

romantic options: cloud strife, tifa lockhart, aerith gainsborough, zack fair, reno, rude, genesis rhapsodos, reeve tuesti, angel hewley, sephiroth, vincent valentine.

platonic: barret wallace, yuffie kisaragi

detroit become human

romantic options: connor, markus, gavin

platonic: kara, hank

devil may cry

romantic options: dante, nero, vergil

platonic: trish, nico, lady, v

jojo's bizarre adventure

romantic options: dio brando, joseph joestar ( part 2 & 3 ), caesar anthonio zeppeli, jotaro kujo ( 4-6 only ), rohan kishibe, bruno bucciarati, leone abbachio, narciso anasui, johnny joestar, gyro zeppeli, diego brando

debating: jonathan joestar, jolyne cujoh, weather report

[hiraethhh-h]

day 4 - minute

fandom: dead by daylight

paring: pyramid head x gn! reader

warnings: none

wc: 666

12 day writing challenge

the sound of the gong shook the ground beneath your feet, orange molten-like lights cracking through the Earth as it rumbled violently. “shit, shit…” you hissed, hurrying your digging inside the chest. you pushed aside pieces of scrap, wood shavings, and rusted tools until you finally grabbed the handle of something. a purple medkit stared you in the face, a sigh of relief leaving you as you quickly stood. upon making your way out of the worn shack, you spotted nea headed your way.

thank the gods she was okay. you knew she could hold her own, but sometimes the killers treated her ruthlessly because of her snarky attitude towards them. “nea! is dwight okay?” you were quick to ask, the beanie-wearing woman nodding in response. “yeah, he should be grabbing a gate by now.” nea responded, looking to the item in your hand. she whistled approvingly, “nice find. now we’ve gotta bounce.” she jerked her thumb over her shoulder. you nodded, quickly following after the girl.

a gunshot-like sound pierced the air, drawing you and nea’s attention. the two of you shared a look before bolting in the direction the sound had come from. upon rounding the large scrap wall, a large pyramid headed figure was seen chasing dwight. the poor guy was panicking as he ran, his eyes blown wide as he narrowly missed another field of torment that tore its way through the ground for him.

“shit… i got enough juice for one more save.” nea gestured to the flashlight she held, a small purple band at the end of the handle. “i’ll get the gate then help you two out. i’ll leave this bad boy nearby too for dwight.” you nodded. with that, the two of you parted ways. as you pulled the lever down, you could hear dwight doing his best to keep pyramid head off him.

the large door shuddered before sliding open. you quickly set down the medkit before going to join nea and dwight, dwight’s scream echoing throughout the air once he was struck down. you waited for the queue to help, seeing nea crouched behind a car waiting for the moment to strike.

pyramid head bent down to pick up dwight by the waistband, hauling the male over his shoulder. just then, nea hopped out and shined her flashlight at the killer. “this is for kate, asshole!” she shouted. a groan-like sound left the male, dwight quickly dropping to the ground as pyramid head used his arm to shield where his eyes would be.

you dashed forward, slinging dwight’s arm over your shoulder to haul the male to the exit. he called your name in shock, nea joining the two of you on dwights other side. the three of you hauled ass to the gate, pyramid head not too far behind. once you crossed the threshold, you handed dwight off to nea. “go, i’ll be right behind you guys.”

nea furrowed her brows, sending you a look before turning to leave. dwight frowned, “be careful, you don’t have much time left…” he wheezed out. the two of them passed into the fog, disappearing as the Entity returned them to the campfire.

exhaling shakily, you picked up the purple medkit you had left in the gate. behind you, the sound of metal dragging along the concrete sent shivers down your spine. “sorry about that pyra, you know we have to play fair.” you spoke over your shoulder, turning to face the larger figure. pyramid head simply ‘stared’ down at you, his head tilted ever so slightly. of course he understood, that’s how most trials went after all.

you placed your hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “i’ll see you later, okay?” you murmured, giving him a faint smile. the gong reverberated through the map once more, reminding you that time was indeed almost up like dwight had warned. with that, you turned to let the fog envelop you and bring you back to the other survivors.

[meglinpancake]

Okay, I am def new to the DBD shipping side of the fandom (I literally live, laugh, love Fanfiction why’d it take me years to discover my people are here) so outta curiosity how’d you get to shipping Jill and Nea?

And any of your other ships if you’d like to explain them to (Haddie and Mikaela are literally my life rn you draw them so cute<3)

Why hello there! Welcome in<33

It’s actually Jill x Meg! I’ve been calling it Speeding Bullet.

It started because my gf at the time was the one who introduced me to dbd- we met through the re8 community and they dragged me over to The Entity’s realm wheeze. They actually introduced me to Susie/Julie first! Those were the characters that got me into dbd.

My first dbd simp was Susie lmao, here’s the proof:

When I did get the game finally- they mained Jill and I mained Meg- so I started shipping them together, and the more I thought about them- the more they just made sense together- and I’ve continued shipping them since then.

Although it was a messy break up- I still hold that person dear to my heart. It was my first serious relationship, and although there were many flaws- it was my first mostly healthy relationship. They accepted me despite my critical stage of depression- the one to push me to therapy, to really start that journey to discovering myself and learning to accept myself. And as I continued my journey to accepting myself, I used Haddie to help me- and eventually I started shipping Haddie/Mikaela as a way to exercise self-love when I finally came to accept most of who I am now.

Haddie and Mikaela have a pretty complicated history with me bahaha. Haddie in particular. It’s a lot of baggage I’m not comfortable sharing publicly, but to have a home for them on my blog has been a huge honour<3

And for that ex-gf, I really hope they’re doing well. We may not have separated on the best of terms, but I was blessed to have our worlds cross for the time it did. It was definitely an experience I wouldn’t have traded for anything, and perhaps someday I’ll have the honour to see them again and thank them for being such a wonderful person. They were such an expressive, unique individual who saw the world so differently- the experience I had being theirs for the moment I was has and will always continue to inspire me.

[insidejupiter]

For ship bingo: (adult/dilf/the scruffy old man) mana x cross

interesting! not something ive considered before, but now that i have, i cant say its something that i find appealing. i could definitely see it becoming so when more of the backstory between cross and mana/nea is explored as i am very curious as to what the hell is going on between those three (and past allen).

[kitty-bandit]

Fandom: D.Gray-man Rating: E Pairings: Lucky Poker (Allen x Lavi x Tyki); Yulma (Kanda x Alma); Cross x Neah Total Words: 295.8K Tags: Modern AU; High School AU; Delinquent AU.

Description: Senior year of high school should’ve been a breeze for Lavi. He’s got amazing grades, amazing friends, and gets to spend his year living with Gramps in his old hometown. What he didn’t count on was catching the eye of a sticky-fingered delinquent who had a penchant for getting into trouble—and dragging Lavi with him.

Chapter 43: Leaving on a Jet Plane

August 10th arrived sooner than Lavi wanted.

That morning, he’d woken up with a tight pressure in his chest—like an elephant had sat on him during the night. Even after taking a long, hot shower and eating breakfast, his heart still felt heavy. Sick. He knew why—he couldn’t forget why—but that didn’t make the pain lessen.

It was his nineteenth birthday and his last day in the States. His last day to see his friends and boyfriends before returning to London. This last day was precious to him, and what little time he had left felt like sand slipping through the cracks between his fingers.

Read on AO3.

[idiotsticcc]

My take on DGM ship wedding songs

Laven (Lavi x Allen): Love in an Open Door from the Frozen movie.

Yullen (Kanda x Allen): Stuck With You by Aurelio Voltaire

Lavyuu (Lavi x Kanda): Cover This Song (Little Bit Mine) by Will Wood

Allena (Allen x Lenalee): Can’t Help but Falling in Love With You by Elvis Presley

Rollen (Road x Allen): Little Girls by Oingo Boingo

Rolena (Road x Lenalee): Sofia by Clario

Crollen (Cross x Allen): All The Small Things by Blink-182

Yulma (Kanda x Alma): Love Me Like There’s No Tomorrow by Freddie Mercury

Nema (Nea x Mana) Sweet Home Alabama by Lynrd Skynrd

Poker Pair (Tyki x Allen): The British Are Coming by Weezer (Not Allen’s choice. Tyki forced it as a joke)

Croma (Cross x Mana): What’s My Age Again by Blink-182

Neallen (Nea x Allen): Lower Your Expectations by Bo Burnham

Lavlena (Lavi x Lenalee): Love is an Open Door from the Frozen movie

Kroanda (Krory x Miranda): Love Is by Bo Burnham

Bakui (Bak x Komui): Longview by Green Day

Reemui (Reever x Komui): My Name is Jonas by Weezer

[moyaisarting]

A post? In this day and age? Shit. Have a good one and enjoy the gay!

[partisan-by-default]

President Joe Biden will no longer address the nation’s largest teachers unions this weekend after its administrative employees walked off the job Friday.

The National Education Association Staff Organization, which represents staff that works in NEA’s headquarters, said it established a picket line around the Pennsylvania Convention Center in Philadelphia, where the union’s 103rd Representative Assembly is being held. This is the group’s second strike of the year, citing unfair labor practices.

Biden was slated to speak at the convention on Sunday, the last day of the gathering, but pulled out because of the strike.

“President Biden is a fierce supporter of unions and he won’t cross a picket line,” said Lauren Hitt, a Biden campaign spokesperson, in a statement. “The President is still planning to travel to Pennsylvania this weekend, and we will have more details to share at a later point.”

The president’s position was quickly cheered by the staff union, which declared on X: “Thank you, @JoeBiden for respecting our picket line and upholding union values!”

The strike is expected to last through the weekend, which one union official said essentially brings the NEA convention to an early close, putting off other business and planned events.

Biden cancels speech to teachers' union, says he "won't cross the picket line".

Biden needs successful appearances before friendly crowds right now more than at perhaps any other time. And still he has the integrity not to cross a picket line.

[dagnyart]

One piece of an answer for ask. 

[maskedjoker]

I wonder all these weird things keep getting posted about ship types but I have no idea what my muse counts as in any ship he's in. I just. He's too weird and bipolar to fit into a trope for me.