#he’s the son of the intimidator of course he’s a bit chaotic

[cars-cause-why-not]

Human AU headcannon: Dale Earnhardt Jr is the unofficial fifth friend in Lightning, Cal, Bobby, and Brick’s friend group.

Although Dale’s a little bit older and has been racing a bit longer, he enjoys hanging out with them (and they enjoy hanging with him too). He’s the one with the brain cell, but most of the time, chooses not to use it (he has terrible impulse control like his old man).

I have a bunch of fanfic ideas where these idiots do dumb shit and find themselves in strange situations.

[glowinggator]

Could I please request some romantic childhood friends to young adult lovers headcannons with Rocky, Freckle, and Ivy? I feel like this trope would suit these three very well, especially for our favorite chaotic musician.

Absolutely my love! This was an absolute blast to write -- I forgot how much I loved this trio! Below the cut! <3

Roark “Rocky” Rickaby

Rocky’s world has been on the verge of collapse for… well, almost as long as he can remember really. And you know what they say — at the end of everything, hold onto anything. Your presence in his life has been, arguably, the number one thing keeping him afloat in the dark waves that have been rolling through his life since death struck his home.

But even before that, you were like his other half — a partner in crime, if you will! Anyone looking in would see the two of you as part of some sort of circus act, with how easily you meshed together.

You were practically attached at the hip — hardly ever found without the other, the two of you did just about everything together.

Playing pranks on the neighbors before running down the street, hand in hand.

Dancing between each other, tails interlocking and then fanning back out to the side, you possessed a shared grace that only came with the deepest of friendships.

Finishing each others’ sentences, no matter how complex, with hardly even a glance toward the other, things just came naturally. His mother always said the two of you would get married someday, with how easily things seem to come to the two of you — he agreed, but on the condition that he’d get to play all the music. You agreed too, so long as you got to sing.

Of course, things changed when the Red Death came.

Just as you shared all things, you shared his grief, too. He still remembers how you ran after his train heading off towards St. Louis, trying to commit his face to memory. He kept every letter you sent, and waited dutifully by the door every Christmas morning for you to keep your own promise to visit.

(You always kept your promises. Always. He supposes your own parents must have seen how close the two of you were, knew it would have killed you to keep you away.)

But most of all, he remembers how magical it was to sweep you back into his arms, when you joined him on the run at the age of 16.

He’s not sure when things changed — he doesn’t think they ever really did, actually. There’s always been a deep love between you — you just didn’t have the words to describe it, yet. And so when your lips met under the starry sky one night on a warm Summer night, for the first time since childhood, neither of you pulled away. No stammering words, or flustered shakes. It was just as things were always meant to be.

Calvin “Freckle” Allen McMurray

Calvin was never the most social kid. Talking to people can be intimidating, and really, he does better when he can think out some responses first… which doesn’t really happen, in a conversation. And so, he’s always been pretty happy to just stay inside and read. Maybe meander out to the field to watch a game or two in peace.

But you? You’re an exception.

Nina praises God every day that you’re in his life. She’s always been so worried for the boy, concerned that he’s not getting enough sunshine. The last thing she wants is for her son to become a shut-in, and with how shy he is, she thought it was an impossibility. But you, shining you, seem to have brightened up his life a bit.

He still remembers the day that you moved into the neighborhood, how insistent your parents were on having the two of you meet. He stood behind his mother’s leg, peering out anxiously. You weren’t much better off in that department, clearly nervous. But once the two of you were shoved together? Things just… flowed. And sure, it took little Calvin a minute to open up, but once he did? He’d wait by the door every day for you to come over, legs swinging over the side of the chair with a new book clutched to his chest.

You’re a perfect duo together — you two love spending time inside together, but you always manage to drag him out for a little adventure on the streets at some point during the day.

And well, you can’t help but coax him into a bit of secret mischief every now and again. He says he’s a good kid who never breaks the rules, and he’ll say it until his very last breath… but the giddy laugh he gives out says otherwise, even if he does clamp his hands over his mouth right after.

You became a bit of a bodyguard for Freckle once Rocky moved in with them — you still participated in the group shenanigans of course, but it was nice to have someone to run to when he couldn’t run away from one of Rocky’s new experiments.

He still remembers how you begged his mom to take the three of you to the amusement park up the road for his 12th birthday, how you saved every penny you got from your chores to pay for it all. How you managed to get her to agree he still has no idea, but its one of his favorite memories. Rocky had to be carried home, crashed out from the sugar high, but Freckle? He was still teeming with adrenaline. You made sure to drag him to the brand-new Ferris Wheel, knowing his secret penchant for thrills, and once he got up to the very top, he never wanted to come down. Not just because of the adrenaline rush that comes with seeing the whole world at once for the first time, but because of how close the two of you were.

He hadn’t felt shy around you in years, but for some reason, your body heat seeping into him made his breath catch in his throat and his face hot. And it was addicting.

From then on, he was just the slightest bit different around you. Not in a bad way, mind you — but still, noticeable. He perks up a bit more when you speak, jumps a bit more when you reach out to him, leans into your touch when you connect.

He vehemently denies any feelings when Nina starts prodding him about it, of course.

His confession is more accidental than anything else.

He’s had plenty of admirers in highschool, all of whom have tried to confess their adoration in different ways. But by far the most popular was through letter. Flustered faces and twitching ears as they hand over pink envelopes, only to be left unopened in his bedside drawer.

You had asked once, kicked back on his bed as he put away yet another perfumed letter, why he never responded to any of them. They’re pretty, they’re nice… so why not give it a shot?

He didn’t know how to explain that it wasn’t that he didn’t want to date, it’s that he didn’t want to date them.

And slowly, all the pieces in your shared mind clicked together. And when you interlocked your hands — an action you had done a million times before — it felt… different. Things had always felt natural, but this time, it felt right.

You don’t know who leaned in first — as with all things in your lives, it was probably yet another shared action. What you do know is that you had many, many years to make up for.

Ivy Pepper

Ivy has never quite meshed with her peers — she gets along with them great, but they’ve never been exactly what she’s looking for. Too prim, too proper, too afraid of getting mussed up. She wants adventure! She wants fun!

And you? You’re fun.

As she got older and older, her parents just seemed to have less and less time for her. And yes, it kind of crushed her. But you’re her home away from home — her best friend in the world, the person who is there for her when noone else is. Her dad hardly knows a thing about her, but nowadays it seems like you know everything there is to know about her.

When she was little she’d wait by the door for your parents to bring you by, bouncing eagerly on the balls of her feet. But once you got older? She’d be running off in the early hours of the morning to your meeting spot out on the corner… or scaling your house to shimmy through your bedroom window. There was never any need, of course — she just liked the rush that came with doing something she technically shouldn’t. And she really liked the stifled giggles that would fall from your lips when you gripped her hands to pull her through the opening.

You’re a couple of sweet little con artists, taking the phrase “partners in crime” to new heights. Ivy, the doll-faced sweetheart, and you, the instigator. You make a great team together, but honestly, it’s more about the fun than it is the nickles and dimes you earn.

Whenever her favorite songs come on the record player, you always have your hand extended to her before she even has to ask.

Ivy has had plenty of boyfriends in the past, but none of them have ever felt like the romance books that she reads in her spare time. The closest she’s ever felt to that is… with you.

She remembers one night, when she shimmied through your window for the millionth time, just laying on your bed together. Giggling with each other on the duvet, shushing one another in hushed whispers, and illuminated only by candlelight. The light glimmered, highlighting your features, and she was struck with the urge to reach out, to touch, to hold and be held, and God, she just never wanted the night to end. She knew then that this was what all the books had been writing about, this exact feeling. And as your giggles died down, she couldn’t help but reach out to you, touching fingertips. Contact, in the name of “comparing hand sizes,” unity upheld in the candlelight.

After that night, things are a bit different. She’s flirted with so many people before, but you? You’re… different. She’s just as bold, mind you, but her smile when you fluster or respond back is more giddy than you’ve ever seen her before.

She plays coy, but you’re practically her other half — you know all of her tricks.

So when she leans into your space one night, hands placed just shy of your crossed legs, asking to kiss you, just to know what it’s like? You know exactly what she’s getting at — know that this is so much more than just an experiment between friends.

And when your lips meet, you wonder why you ever labored through the song and dance before, when you could have had this the whole time.

[soulmate-game]

New fic *test*

New Bio!dad Bruce story? I’m testing out this first chapter, and if I like where it’s going I might add it to my growing pile of WIPs. If I have inspiration, I might as well use it. Because of life events stressing me the hell out, I’m throwing any writing plans out the window and I’m purely gonna write to destress right now. Whether that means updating THG or not, or continuing Maribat March, we’ll just have to see how this all pans out. Things are subject to day-to-day change.

I got inspiration from this from rereading my day 1 story for Bio!dad Bruce Wayne month from last year. I’m just gonna change a few things.

—*—*—*—*—*

For once, an unfamiliar face attracted the attention of everyone who caught even a glimpse of them. It wasn’t even because of the person themselves at first, but their dress. The skirt like the most fantastical of storybook ball gowns, fluffy layers of satin over a luxurious petticoat, with a stunning pink floral pattern whose busy appearance was tastefully offset by a shorter, sheer layer of leaf green tulle artistically weaved and somehow sculpted over the floral in order to tame it. The effect turned what should be a grandmotherly pattern into something softer, sophisticated and youthful and yet also reminiscent of fairytale princesses. Over top the short layer of green tulle was an even shorter later of white tulle, almost invisible except for the elegant embroidery of crystal-white vines that twined all over it, connecting the green below it to the bottom-most floral pattern and oddly adding a layer of childishness instead of maturity. At the waist of the dress was a dark plum pink satin ribbon, to separate the elaborate ballgown skirt from the bodice. Attached to the simple ribbon was a large brooch of fabric flowers, with a single plastic ladybug in the center.

The bodice of the dress came up into a cheongsam neckline, but was sleeveless. It was a simple design, of half green and half dark pink, with a white border separating the two. The white border had expertly done embroideries in a soft silver thread that would only be visible close up, the images the thread made being that of fairies and ladybugs dancing around one another.

It was, all in all, a stunning display that made the small eurasian woman wearing them look like absolute royalty. Perhaps a long lost fairy princess. Her black-blue hair was even done up in elaborate looping braids and a braided bun, with silver and green pins that further completed the regal ensemble. And yes, while the expertly done dress was what initially captivated her current audience, it was not what kept them from leaving her alone. That was all her personality, bubbly and bright as her blinding smile. It was a sunny disposition that very few people present had any exposure to at all, and it drew them like a sunflower to the daylight. They could not help but flock closer, or even just stand back and keep themselves turned to her presence. Already she had been at the gala for two hours, but there was no issue. She just kept proving her generosity, admitting she had donated both a dress and a suit of her own making to the charity auction that would begin soon, one of the main attractions of the gala. She skillfully charmed the more snooty of the attendants, and artfully twisted her words so that they felt compelled to donate more money that they truly had no use for. Later, they would remember their donation and wonder what compelled it, but come up with no satisfying answer.

And yet she was entirely unaware of her more silent audience, who stood back and observed. Truth be told, every one of them was glad to not be the center of that attention for a change, to have room to breathe for so long at an event where usually that commodity was so scarce that it demanded a fierce competition for. Compared to her garden of color, they were all shadows in shades of blacks and blues and whites, with a touch of red here and there that was entirely too thematic for their home city. The one who sported a royal blue suit tilted his head at the scene they were all calmly witnessing, his bright azure eyes glittering.

“She’s like magic,” he mused, clearly enchanted despite having not said a single word to the woman. “Perfect socialite. She’s kind, generous, she made that dress and the ones she donated to the auction herself so she’s obviously got an intimidating amount of skill for her age. She even tricks those old fuddy-duddies into spending money. It’s like a dream come true!”

“I don't trust it,” the one to his right said, a man just a few inches shorter in a classic black suit with a red dress shirt underneath. He absently swept his bangs away from his face as he narrowed his eyes at the woman. “It seems too perfect. She doesn’t have any identifiable character flaw, except maybe being a little clumsy and too energetic. She does babble a little… but nothing that actually suggests any depth besides her just being— good. That’s impossible, and I don’t trust it.”

“Tt. I agree with Drake for once. She seems entirely too comfortable with this setting, despite her blushes and rambles,” the one who spoke this like was taller, clearly a teen in the middle of his growth spurt. He, too, wore a plain black suit but his had subtle charcoal embroidery and he wore an emerald-green dress shirt under it that made his matching eyes gleam dangerously. “It seems almost playacted. Expertly so, but nonetheless not entirely genuine.”

“Wow, not many pick up on that. I’m gonna give your observations a solid eight out of ten. They’re all perfectly sound, but not quite complete,” a new voice made all of the silent group stiffen— somehow they had been snuck up on. The newcomer smirked at them as if having fully expected their reaction but still being pleased at being able to evoke it. This was yet another stunner; far too much color in her outfit to be a Gotham native, and far too much skill in the construction for it to signify anything less than extreme influence. She had bright golden-blond hair that was coiled into a low bun, with her bangs artfully curled and arranged to display her crystal blue eyes.

In contrast to the garden-themed dress of the Eurasian woman who had garnered their attention at first, this newcomer was wearing a pantsuit. It was all in a dark honey-gold, in a stiff fabric with construction that made it lay entirely in perfect, straight lines and hug her form in the right places. Black embroidery decorated the long, flared sleeves and pant legs and dripped around the square neckline like a faux necklace. A cape made out of the same material as the rest of the pantsuit was draped on one shoulder. It started out as the same honey-gold color, but it became a gradient as it faded to a solid black at the ends. Gold thread embroidery decorated the solid black bottom of the cape in delicate, deceptively simplistic swirls. The top half of the pantsuit was clearly inspired by military garb, simultaneously rigidly constructed yet fitted, with circular onyx buttons going down the center of the chest and a thick metal belt, all in swirling silver and black, sat perfectly clasped around her waist. It was far more solid-colored and simplistic compared to the fairytale dress in the center, but no less show stopping and luxurious. It simply showcased an entirely different attitude, almost as if the two women could never get along if their personalities matched their outfits.

“And who are you?” The man who had been the center of the group of shadow-like adults spoke up, back straightening to milk every speck of his generous six-feet-and-three-inches of height. This was none other than Bruce Wayne, the host of this annual charity gala. And normally, his current stance would either intimidate or utterly charm whoever it was directed at— but not this pantsuit-clad blond warrior. Her smirk merely widened, and her blue eyes took on a slight shade of teal as if trying to mimic the dangerous ocean depths.

“I am Chloe Bourgeois, the daughter of Andre Bourgeois, the mayor of Paris, and Audrey Bourgeois, the Style Queen. It’s nice to meet you again, Monsieur Wayne,” she introduced herself imperiously. “I also happen to be the best friend of the girl you were just staring at.”

Bruce nodded, but had trouble reconciling this clear powerhouse of a woman with the bratty and entitled preteen he had met years ago, at the last gala she had attended with her mother. “Of course, I didn’t recognize you at first Chloe. You’ve grown a lot since the last Gala I saw you at.”

Chloe wrinkled her nose, clearly not appreciating the reminder. “I was a bitch,” she admitted easily, seemingly not at all bothered by the confession. It caused not only Bruce but also the oldest three of his sons, who had all also met her in the past, to blink in silent shock. “Things have changed. Paris is apparently the perfect chaotic environment right now to promote emotional growth and smack spoiled kids over the head with reality,” she shrugged. Part of the reason her and her whole class had even been able to come to the Gala in the first place was the fact that Bruce wanted to offer the most attacked group of Parisians a respite and some support from their crazy lives. The fact that even Gotham seemed sane in comparison to Paris was a bit of a hard hit for both involved parties, but in the end everyone understood that “more sane” didn’t always equate with “less dangerous.” Considering all that, Chloe had no reason to sugarcoat the situation in her home city. “But it wasn’t easy at all, and Marinette was largely responsible for my improvement too.”

“Marinette?” The heathen who somehow got away with attending a gala in a black leather jacket over a dress shirt and suit pants asked, raising a brow. Chloe nodded.

“The girl you were just goggling at. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the class president and resident workaholic. Does she ever sleep? Nobody knows,” Chloe shrugged.

The blue-suited man, Dick Grayson, shot a suspicious glance at Tim, who was standing to his right, as if he was worried his brother had made a female clone of himself just so he could continue to work hard and never rest. Tim ignored him and sipped from the thermos of coffee he had somehow snuck in.

Bruce cleared his throat to bring the focus back onto himself, and shot his most charming smile at Chloe. “They would have known who she was, if they had read the brief information I gave them about your class. But they never do listen to me,” he complained with good humor. “But back to the original topic, Miss Bourgeois, do you care to correct us on how our observations are lacking?”

Chloe laughed easily, smiling and nodding to indicate Marinette, still stuck in a circle of socialites and not seeming the least bit worn out.

“Of course. First; She is not completely acting. She really is like magic sometimes— disgustingly kind, generous, far too willing to help just about anyone for just about any reason. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever met, as much as it pains me to admit it. But she is exaggerating her personality a bit and hiding the parts she doesn’t want anyone to see, so there is a little acting involved. Just not as much as you seem to think,” Chloe then waved her arm in a flourish as if she were presenting Marinette to them. “In short; behold Mari Dupain-Cheng, the ridiculously likeable, disgustingly cute, extremely philanthropic mask that she shows everyone at public events like this. You don’t see any of the insomnia, or the anxiety, or the self doubt. Just the parts she wants you to see, accompanied with a smile to blind you to everything else,” her all-too-deep blue eyes settled back on Bruce then, a knowing glint shining in them. “Don’t you think that’s ridiculously similar to Brucie Wayne for you, Monsieur? Utterly, ridiculously, similar?”

Bruce grit his teeth. He hadn’t expected anyone else to know about his exceptionally well hidden secret, not even his kids had caught on or found his buried evidence yet. Yet his heiress comes up, nearly flaunting her knowledge in his face with all too many unspoken questions and criticisms.

And her cryptic words had succeeded in making all of his kids look at him with extreme suspicion. Shit.

“What are you saying, Miss Bourgeois?” he cautiously prodded. She hummed noncommittally before dropping the bomb all too casually;

“I’m saying I’ve seen her adoption papers, and you won’t be able to run from her for long Monsieur Wayne. As soon as she gets an opening, she’s going to pounce,” Chloe’s eyes glittered dangerously again. “And nowadays, Marinette doesn’t ever let people escape her. Your problem with adoption has created a rather unique problem, you know. You’re at fault for a large majority of her self confidence issues, and I want you to know that I am not going to forget or forgive that anytime soon.”

“Bruce,” Jason’s voice was dark and threatening. “What is she talking about?”

“Something we don’t want getting in the tabloids,” Yet another new voice popped up, allowing Chloe to smugly sink back into the background.

Somewhere during their discussion, Marinette had ambushed them.

“Chloe and I are very good at locating all the reporters in a room and distracting them, but we’re not infallible and this event has far too much coverage,” Her smile reeked confidence and charm, but this close all the Waynes could see the doubt hiding in her bluebell eyes. “Since I’m about to turn eighteen, I figured this would be as good a time as any to finally confront you. I want to make it clear that I seek nothing from you, except the occasional contact. I would like to keep in touch, if nothing else. But if you are adverse to that… then at least answer my questions after the gala,” her eyes developed a hint of carefully controlled desperation. “Please.”

Bruce met her eyes evenly, trying to read her. But she was difficult, simultaneously too many emotions to sort through in her demeanor and much too little. After an extremely tense moment of silence, his voice came out barely above a whisper:

“You do not want anybody to know?”

And hell, if she didn’t recognize the hidden vulnerability in his voice as the very same she heard in her own far too often. In a much tamer version of her own rambling, he went on:

“I can keep it silent if that is what you want. But I want you to know that I will not be adverse to you admitting it anywhere. I don’t expect you to change your name, but I would not be ashamed of the truth getting out. I am not ashamed of it, of you.”

Marinette’s smile grew a little watery. She had to clear her throat to keep herself from tearing up. “Maybe eventually, but not yet. I… I want to stay a little more anonymous for now. It’s one thing to be a well known designer with good connections. It’s an entirely different thing to be…”

“A Wayne?” Bruce finished, ignoring the daggers that were being stared into his back. “I understand completely.

“Father,” Damian’s voice was all sharp edges and rapidly suppressed panic. “What. Is going. On?”

Marinette shot him an apologetic smile. “Apparently, eighteen years ago, his prerogative was to put the child he actually knew about up for adoption when the mother died in childbirth,” her voice was once again only barely loud enough for them to hear, since she didn’t want any eavesdroppers. “Imagine my surprise when I find out he completely flipped sides only months later.”

--*--*--*--*--*

Hey, so please share your feedback on this. This is just to test out a possible new bio dad, multichapter fic and this is the opening scene I'm trying out. If you like it, please tell me what you like about it and please suggest titles for the story! I love you guys' feedback so much!

[aprils2ndhandshop]

can i request the 2003 raph, don and mikey with a sweet, anti-social, shy girl? thank you cowabunga!!!

Raphael, Donatello & Michelangelo w/ a shy, anti-social girl ‘03

Sorry King Leo and all my Leo stans!

Summary; how each of these turtles would treat a shy s/o, their plan to approach a shy girl and how their relationship would function in relations to how shy she is. 

Notes from me; hey everyone! I’m sorry for the slow posting, I’m super busy at the moment so it’s hard to work on this blog. I will try to post again soon! Enjoy dudes!

Raphael;

Raph would, in many ways, come to appreciate your humble nature.

In the beginning, his intense observation of your shy demeanour revolved around his curiosity. He became determined to better understand you like you were a mystery he needed to unravel. 

His initial curiosity quickly became romantic the closer he got to you, the more he came to realize how thoughtful the person behind the quietness was. 

Raph being a guy that struggles with emotional intelligence admires your ability to observe and understand the moods and vibes in the room. 

Your ability to read people is something his brothers also admire in you, especially at the thought of how beneficial it would be for their hot-head brother to be able to experience first hand.

"Raph and y/n?"

"Never thought Raphie boy would be into such a sweet, shy girl!"

"Guess love really is unpredictable."

Although Raph enjoys a loud and rowdy time on a special occasion, he much more enjoys the peaceful moments with you. His hostility is something that would solely exist in his training if it wasn't for his insecurity and anxiety; by nature, he is calm and values quiet time.

Everything surrounding Raph has been chaotic since his childhood; he and his brothers clearly don’t lead normal lives - to have something so sweet and soothing is a luxury he can't lose. 

Eventually, the thought of you becomes enough to bring him back down to his sanity, enough to help him sleep through the night and avoid unnecessary anger.

Due to your quietness, Raph becomes much more attentive; he is always sure to address you if something feels unusual.

“Hey baby, you seem off. There something you wanna tell with me?”

"No Raph, I'm okay."

Knowing very well you aren't being honest with him, he scoops you up in his arms and places you into his lap to talk.

Donatello;

Donatello would initially be intimidated by you. Despite being labelled the smart brother, he fumbles a bit with you, struggling to wrap his mind around something so beautiful being so shy and anti-social. 

Being inexperienced with humans, he naturally subscribed to the belief that beauty equates to confidence. This belief drove him to believe that it wasn't shyness keeping you from talking to him - you were simply too good for him.

Of all people, Donnie knew better than to judge somebody by their appearance, yet with you, that proved to be more difficult.

But don't worry he comes around.

"Y/n, I had no idea that was you would be into such..."

"Dorky stuff? You can say it, Don, it's not a bad word."

You bond over common interests, nerdy interests he never imagined you would have, quickly after his fears of a pretty girl disliking him would fade.

Once Donnie can pass his insecurity barrier,  your shyness evolves from intimidating to charming!

He finds our adorable shyness so charming that he develops an inability to ever say no to you - a deadly one.

"Don? Can I eat some of these cookies? You don't think Raph would mind, right?"

Oh no, those are Raph's cookies... He'll kill me.

"Of course you can, beautiful."

Raph was not happy...

Donatello would encourage you to branch out. Although a selfish part of him would love to suck up all of your free time, it's not the life he wants you to live. You're such a sweet girl and he knows you could make friends easily.

When you become buddies with his elder brother, Leonardo, he is over the moon - especially after hearing you open up with Leo and seek advice from him.

"She's good for you, Don. I really like her."

 Initially, Donatello was scared that your shyness would keep you hidden from his family so witnessing you gain their love is super significant for him.

Michelangelo;

Mikey is drawn to you right away, finding your shyness to be endearing and absolutely adorable. From the moment he met you, he wanted nothing more than protect something so sweet from all the bitterness of the world.

He essentially views you as some modern-day princess or earth-dwelling angel.

Although he has a thing for shy girls, he's never really put thought into it and has no idea how to approach you. Being the loud goofball he is, he worries that you'll stray away from him or be discouraged by his bold personality.

He tones himself down just for you.

"Hey, y/n/n!"

"You're Michelangelo, right?"

"Yeah! You can call me Mikey though if you want!"

In the beginning, he is determined to be as mellow and soft around you as possible - he does not want to mess up his chance with you!

This change in Mikey shocks his family. Master Splinter specifically, is touched by his son's compassion, yet he refuses to let it go on for too long. He takes the time to explain how important it is for Mikey to be himself with you, especially considering how much he seems to like you.

"Why would you do that, Mikey? You being goofy would never change how I look at you."

"I just wanted to be sure you'd like me."

"I really like you."

Looking back on how your relationship started now, both you and Mikey get a good laugh from it.

Although your shyness isn't as prominent when you're alone with Mikey, he still appreciates the little hints of your nervousness that pop up from time to time: occasional studders, emotional fluster when he flirts, hiding your face from him.

"You're so cute, angel cakes!"

He fanboys over your cuteness from time to time.

Michelangelo may be a chaotic goofball but his attentiveness towards you was never faked - he wants nothing more than to keep you safe and happy.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 1- She Ran With Wolves

Bucky Barnes x powered (f)reader Series Re-write (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS)

Summary: You’re a survivor, always have been and always will be. After narrowly escaping the clutches of Hydra years ago, you’ve been keeping to the shadows for as long as time allows. With Hydra suddenly exposed and your secrets in the open, you’re on the hunt for the last part of your past, but is he ready to see you again?

Warning: angst, talk of violence, some fluff mixed in (a little); way more to come

Masterlist

Side note- This is a TFATWS Series Re-write!!! Obviously lol, anyways. Readers powers are heavily inspired by a certain Marvel badass and I just thought her powers would work so well for this. Also they’re cool as fuck.

September, 15th 2013

Location: S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters, Washington D.C.

This recent project Fury had sent her on was beginning to make itself quit the annoyance for Natasha this past of couple weeks, granted he always gave her the toughest assignments, understanding that no one else can dig up as much dirt as the Black Widow can.

But this? This was different, the target in question was practically a ghost, a legend among the ones lucky, or possibly unlucky enough to have been made aware of this dangerous individual. But no matter how much she asked around from her various secretive resources on the problem in question, this mystery person was simply just rumor to them. Or perhaps too much of a sour subject to seek into any further. Although one thing was always prevalent, people were scared.

But why?

The assassin leans back in her chair, a thoughtful expression crossing over her features as she stares bitterly down at the top secret file gifted to her by Fury himself. Suddenly a door closes, she shuts the file in an instant, only to be greeted with the apologetic face of Steve as he walks past her.

“Sorry. Fury told me you would be in here.” Begins Steve as he takes the nearby couch, something small and metal in his right hand, “Said you were assigned some impossible case. How’s it going so far?”

Letting out a jaded sigh, she shifts her gaze over to the window, “The absolute vagueness of this person is....frustrating to say the least. All I’ve been able to gather is that they’ve been part of some top secret experimentation on pregnant women. Somehow they’re involved with it....I just, gotta figure out how.” She adds with a conflicted expression dancing across her features.

Steve hums in thought, “Sounds complicated.”

“You have no idea.” Mutters Natasha unenthusiastically as her green irises shift back down to the annoying little file.

Steve palms the object in his hand before gaining his friends attention once again, “Here. Fury told me to give this to you.” Her brows furrow in thought as she reaches over and quickly accepts the strange hard drive looking object, “I think this will help. It has the location of the target and who they are. That’s it.....Well, the last reported location.”

“How did he?” She wonders aloud, face suddenly breaking out into an irked grin, “Fury you son of a bitch, about time I found a legitimate lead.”

——

Sitting on her comfortable apartment couch, Natasha sifts through the various encrypted files from the hard drive that’s currently plugged into her laptop. So far she’s spent about two hours breaking through the various encrypted file blockers and now at long last has finally made some real progress.

Studying the brightly glowing screen, she moves her finger, clicking another coded link that reads -V13X11- she’s immediately greeted with a black screen and the slightly blurred picture of a woman’s face who’s looking rather stoic and fearless against the camera flash. Her eyes are set and hard as stone, dark and almost angry behind lips that show the ghost of a forced smile. She’s noticeably an overall attractive woman, in kind of a terrifying and intimidating sort of way, like looking at a fierce lioness standing valiantly against a foe; nonetheless she stares defiantly at the person behind the camera. 

Her eye color, weight, date of birth, and presumably patient number, that's printed in big bold letters 00X13 on the glowing screen, right below her squared portrait. Furrowing her brows, Natasha scrolls down to see about a paragraph long of personal information given about the woman. Including, to the red heads tremendous surprise, a birth name, Y/N Valerious.

Oddly enough, the name indeed sounds a tad bit familiar, though she can’t quit place from where.

The file states that she was raised in a facility on the outskirts of Surinda, Russia; someplace in Siberia, close to the heart of the mammoth country. Trained by the organization Hydra and summitted into inhuman experimentation by the specific facility that held her, however the rest is all encrypted and impossible to translate into something comprehensible much to Natasha’s utter disappointment. 

Huffing in frustration, she slips out the hard drive before shutting down her laptop and slamming it shut. The room is darker by now with the sun gone, and tomorrow it appears that Natasha will be off to Sweden to confront this woman, Y/N, in hopes of gathering valuable intel into the people who created her, and any important information regarding her troubled past. 

If she’s willing to comply.

——

Closing your laptop, you stand and wander over to the opened window to stretch before taking a deep breath of freshly brisk winter air. The land here in Uppsala, Sweden is more beautiful and peaceful then you could have ever imagined since renting an apartment two months ago. In fact, this is probably the longest you’ve ever stayed in one spot since abandoning the life of an assassin many years ago.

Though you know it won’t be much longer until you leave again, but you can’t just yet, there happens to be a certain agent on her way to find you. Fury unknowingly received your encrypted hard drive with opened arms, foolishly under the impression it was sent from an old friend when he reached out for answers into your complicated history. Then when the Black Widow eventually clicked open your link, bam, you could see everything she was nosily sifting through. Everything you wanted her to see. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if something dramatic happened to the people over in D.C. at this point, idiots, all of them.

For the past couple years S.H.I.E.L.D has become sort of a troubling snooping nuisance for you, constantly delving their way into your relatively uneventful lifestyle every couple of months, meddling around to figure out if you’re still currently active for Hydra and if not, are you willing to pay for your crimes or to join them like she did. Definitely not on your to do list any time soon.

Watching as a small black bird zips by, you quickly shut your window and close the dark colored curtains to block yourself from the rest of the chaotic world. Hastily making your usual rounds about the apartment to be absolutely certain all the possible openings are locked. Soon after you head for bed, ready to face the ex-assassin whenever she arrives in the following days ahead.

-

Seated at your kitchen table, you casually sip at your steaming hot tea while watching security footage from downstairs from when you hacked into their system, the same night you began renting the place. As expected, the notorious red head slips her way into the building and up the four flights of stairs until finally a light knock is heard at your old wooden door.

So she wants to do this cleanly.

Switching off the device, you stuff it in a nearby drawer before calmly walking down the tiny hallway over to the frontdoor and opening it, lock off and all. Her green eyes blink in curious surprise as you show her no indications of aggression; she’s about your height if not maybe slightly smaller, thick scarf and a winters coat about her person as she holds a normal sized black bag in her right hand. No doubt a gun concealed somewhere close, a light precaution in case things go south from here.

Trailing your wary gaze from her travel bag to her pale face, you raise an intrigued brow, “I assume you’re here for me?” You ask with the tinge of a confident Eastern European accent as she slowly nods, eyes calculated and calm as she studies your mellow yet slightly defensive stance.

Pursing plush lips together, she casually shrugs with a light hearted smile, “I only realized you must have sent that hard drive when I arrived in London...”

“Well I’ve gotten rather bored running away from your persistent bastards over in America.” You interrupt before opening up your door even wider, gifting her an open invitation instead of a fight, “Come in. I assume we have much to discuss.”

Following you to the table, she sets her bag on the closest chair as you take another sip from your tea. Cautious eyes trained on her every move as she shifts a bit uncomfortably in her chair, “So, I assume you’re not here to sell me that pretty bag of yours. Not that I’d want it.”

She smirks at your blunt sarcasm, pleased to know you’ve at least got a sense of humor after all you’ve endured, “No. I’m here to learn about who created you and if there are any more. Y/N, I’m well aware of how dangerous you truly are...but given the fact that you’ve had time to adjust, and let me into your home willingly. I came seeking answers. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Folding your hands together, you tilt your head at her thoughtfully, “Well that’s good. I didn’t really want killing the Black Widow on my conscience, though I’d speculate a few would be relieved.” You quip with a playful smirk before your face turns serious again, “I’ll tell you about the fuckers who made me. Then you leave and never bother me again. Understood?” You add in almost a growl.

Handing you a polite smile, she nods in agreement, “Of course. You have my word.” You take another sip of your tea as she reaches into her bag, a beige file suddenly plants itself atop your kitchen table. “This is the only surviving file on you. It’s enough, but there’s too many cracks that need to be filled. I need to know how they conducted the experiments and who else survived them. This is important for the safety of S.H.I.E.L.D and the rest of the world. Y/N, we’re trying to make sure something like this can never happen again. And well, any secrets on Hydra always helps.”

Setting your cup down, you smirk, “This should be filled with liquor if I’m going to be spilling some top secret Hydra business of this velocity.” You muse, setting aside your mug, your face quickly shifts to a more serious expression. “For starters this isn’t a very heartwarming story.”

“Neither is mine.” Begrudgingly admits the ex-assassin.

“Well, at least we have something in common then, Black Widow.” You assert with a pointed look before leaning back against the barred wood of your chair, thinking of where to start first. Your eyes trail over to the window as you begin your story, “This place, where they kept us. The scientists working for Hydra wanted to test out special DNA altering serums on the embryos of willing participants. Well, we weren’t willing....but they targeted the poor, feigning a program that would pay these mothers-to-be thousands if they participated. Plus a comfortable place to stay for awhile.” You reveal before taking another sip of your tea, “You see, I’m not originally from Russia, my home was some nameless village in Eastern Europe that I’ve forgotten the name of by now, it was so long ago. But anyways, I guess fate has a funny way of administering it’s business to the ones seeking safety in times of struggle. So my mother...” You take another sip of your tea to help clear your throat and head a little bit, God you hate talking about this.

Setting it down again, you continue, “Mine accepted. They took her and twenty-two others to this facility deep in the woods. This place was practically a paradise for them...” You chuckle miserably, “soon enough the scientists pumped them full of drugs and began their altering of the embryos DNA, genetic codes, and whatever else they saw fit to mess with. Nine months later we came into this world kicking and screaming.”

“Shit.” Mutters Natasha in astonishment, fully engrossed in your story as she starts to realize maybe her upbringing wasn’t as fucked as yours.

“They monitored us for the first few months, waiting to see if anyone acted strange....nothing, to their utter disappointment. Soon they drew blood samples and as it turned out, we all had altered DNA from the serum. Just as they’d planned.”

Her brows furrow in puzzlement before she asks, “How’d you get your powers then? I don’t think I missed anything.” Insists your guest questionably as you shake your head.

“You didn’t. But you have to understand that as we grew older, all of us basically became tiny super soldiers as fucked as that is, not only did they change our genetic code for meddling with later on when we got older. But this serum was so well developed that it completely fused with the fetuses genetic code, only causing us to grow stronger as we aged from toddlers to three-year-old's and up. Testing even revealed that it slowed down our ageing process just like with Captain America. But it wouldn’t be effective till we reached our mid to late twenties.”

Natasha takes a moment to process your words before she nods in acknowledgment, “Y/N. It’s my understanding that this is a buried secret from the organization for good reason, it’s just....what year did this all take place? It’s not in any of the records I was able to dig up, not even in yours, nothing except for your date of birth.” States Natasha curiously, stopping you before you speak of anything else.

Nodding you lean your arms against the wooden table, leaning in a bit closer now, “1953, after World War ll when people where still recovering from the heavy aftermath while the Cold War was still raging on when well, you know.” Giving her a lopsided shrug, you glance from an old faded picture on the wall then back to her, “Lets just say Russia wasn’t exactly having a stellar time, nor was my mother for that matter.” You Conclude before aimlessly pursuing your lips together, “Which yes, makes me at around 60 years old. Don’t I look pretty.” You add, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Natasha’s eyes concede silent astonishment as she blinks back surprise, “Even after all these years doing what I do, meeting the people that I have. I’m still left speechless every once in awhile. Y/N I can’t even imagine what you’ve seen.” Reveals the red head honestly as her green irises flicker from your file then back up to you, a conflicted expression dancing across her features, “How did they...how did you gain your powers, aside from what the serum gave you in the process?”

An apprehensive sigh escapes freely from your lips while you lean back into the creaky old chair, a troubled look darkening your features as you avoid her intrigued gaze, “They waited until we were twelve before testing us....in the meantime we lived as normal children; learning, playing, and training to survive. You know, the typical stuff.” You add with a small breathy laugh, though no humor finds your eyes, “We had our mothers until a year before they began the experiments. But it wasn’t that terrible of a loss since they trained us to adapt to our environment and never fully depend on anyone but ourselves.....it’s sick. And I’m not even sure what they did to them, I guess I never will.”

She nods as you make a disgusted face, an acidic hatred rising in your chest at the thought of your childhood, “I’m sorry, I can’t even imagine how traumatic that must have been.”

“Oh believe me, it gets better.” You joke bitterly, “In pairs of two they tested us, putting us into rooms where two doctors would strap us down and stick a needle into our skin. After that, they waited until something dramatic happened. Oh, and it sure as fuck did.” You conclude with a sneer.

Biting her lip anxiously, Natasha asks anyway, “How many survivors?”

Scoffing, you shake your head in revulsion for what those doctors did to everyone, an angry expression soon crossing your features, “One.” You sourly mutter, “All my other friends died of the new serum they gave us, either right then and there on the table, or in the following days. You see, it was supposed to blend with our altered DNA to create something powerful out of it, something beyond humans normal capabilities. It just ended up horribly mutating everyone except for me.” You whisper, clear sadness and hatred coating your very words.

Your eyes stare sharply at the peeling table top paint, a frown on your lips as you take in a deep breath before continuing, “What they did to me....no one should have to go through something so goddamn agonizing, I was only a child, just a little girl in a terrible place whether I knew it or not....and you know how it affected me?” She slowly shakes her head no as you smile miserably, your brows furrowed in pain, “I was gifted with bone claws that retracted out of my knuckles and one from each of my feet.” You confirm, eyes suddenly darkening in fury, “And you know what those goddamn bastards did to me afterwards? Like I hadn’t suffered enough from the pain of it all, they pumped me full of liquid Adamantium. Turning my claws to solid metal, the fucking strongest material on earth. Right in the body of an eleven year old child!” You shout furiously as she flinches back at your outburst, blinking hard, you let out a heavy breath before leaning back into your chair in defeat.

Calm down, Y/N. It’s just a memory now.

Strong brows dent her clear skin in thought as you await a response, after a few long moments does she soon gather her racing mind, lacing her fingers together she raises a brow at you, “That doesn’t explain how you’ve survived so long. The years working for Hydra, they turned you into a weapon....yet you’ve escaped and haven’t been killed yet. Not even a scratch to be found.....well, at least that I can see.”

Turning to face the puzzled assassin, you give her a lopsided grin, your chill composure coming back to you quickly enough, “I didn’t just get claws from the enhanced serum that fucked with my genetic make-up, it completely heightened my humanly abilities. Suddenly I was stronger, faster, and all my senses felt like they were on overload. Best of it all, I came to realize I had accelerated healing capabilities. Who would have thought that their shitty inhuman experiments would have gone so horrendously, yet with the one miracle of an exception. Me.”

“I had figured that branch of Hydra was meddling on dangerous ground, I hadn’t realized the extent of what they were doing. Did they try making any more like you?” She wonders.

“I was the last. Since I was the only compatible vessel, they didn’t want to waste anymore time or money on others who could possibly fail.” You explain with a shrug, “I became one of their most treasured assets.”

Pursing her lips together, she gives a slight nod before revealing a different file from her bag, you watch as she pauses for a moment before opening it up, you quickly take notice of the many white papers pinned together. Some with encrypted symbols and words while others are in plain English. Your brows furrow as she flips the first page to reveal...

“I know I came asking for answers about classified information, but this won’t be a complete mission if I don’t ask you about your time with Hydra.” Proposes the red head cautiously while she studies your face for any hostile reactions, not getting anything but skepticism, she continues, “I understand you were very important to them. It’s recorded you’ve completed about three dozen kills over an active period of about thirty-seven years.”

You scoff before muttering, “So it would seem. They gave me my first mission in 1971...when I was 17.”

“Right, but that’s not exactly what I’m seeking.” Her eyes immediately trail down to the files, “I assume you must have seen this man at least once...” She flips another page over and pulls out a playing card sized photograph, she turns it around and slides it closer to you. Instantly you recognize who he is, but how did she?..

“I haven’t seen him in years, nor heard of him for that matter.” You mutter, though your tone shifts to a more aggravated one.

Noticing this difference, Natasha continues, “That’s the look of someone who has met him for less then friendly reasons. What happened to the Winter Soldier?” You take a long moment to study his stoic face of icy blue and white, and black; its when he was in the Cryostacis chamber, the place where they would freeze him to keep their Winter Soldier locked away until he was needed for a new mission. All that you can fully witness is his sleeping face, though you know exactly what he looks like up close and with no ice crystals in his dark hair.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you slide the photograph back over to her folder, “I met him when I was 25 in 1979, Hydra needed us for a duel mission somewhere in South Africa, they needed their best. We were tasked with locating and stealing some precious metal which we later learned was Vibranium, because apparently they had used the last of the Adamantium on me.” You reveal with a casual shrug, “It went relatively well as expected...and well, we worked with each other many times after that, until I escaped and he was sent to kill me in 2009.”

“You knew him for almost twenty-nine years. Do you know where he might be now?”

Scoffing, you almost laugh, “Even if I did, you’d never get him. But if I’d have to assume, he’s probably frozen in some cryo tank somewhere in the middle of Russia. Waiting to be let loose again so he can take out a new enemy of the state.”

“Right.” Nods the Black Widow as she closes up her files, her green irises quickly on you again, “Thank you for your time, and for the heavy material you spoke of.”

“It was a long time ago, someone else should remember what those fuckers did to innocent mothers and their children. No one in this entire world knows except for me, you, and the doctors I haven’t killed yet.” You growl with venom lacing your every word.

Soon you watch as she swiftly rises to her feet, as you do the same, “I wish you well then.” Affirms the Black Widow as you follow her lead to the door, she stands on the other side for a moment before asking, “Is there any way I could find you again?”

Leaning against the door frame, you break out into a knowing smirk as she stands waiting expectantly, “If you’re lucky, you’ll never see me again. Goodbye agent Romanoff.” And with that do you gently close the door, leaving her in the hallway with a plethora of useful information, but still nothing significantly useful on the Winter Soldier, now only time will tell if he ever happens to show up on her radar again. Hopefully not, she thinks doubtfully before turning on her heels and sauntering off down the hallway.

——

Almost two whole years had passed since last you’ve spoken to the assassin, in that time you’ve watched her speak on live television when Hydra had finally been exposed to the world and all their secrets let loose for the prying hungry eyes of the public.

Even some of your own information had been leaked, the world knew who you were now, what atrocities you’ve committed for the organization during your time with them and that you’ve been M.I.A since 2009. Now you’re on an international watchlist. Fantastic. Apparently some very important leaders of the world and other prestige family members alike aren’t very fond of yourself for murdering their adversaries or filthy rich husbands. 

But it’s not like you had a choice, Hydra would always alter your memories when they shocked you into forgetting who you even were; thus you’d complete a mission and a couple days or so later would your mind stitch itself back together again the best it could from the electrical trauma. Only the killing part would be a dark and fuzzy memory, thus revealing itself to you in bits and pieces at a time. Soon everything blurred together and you just complied or face getting electrocuted multiple times a session, until your eyes remained empty and dangerous.

Considering you’ve been on the run since that information was released, in this time, you’ve tracked down past agents and doctors alike who had wronged you, considering you now had full access to their recent history. Hence increasing your body count as you went from one country to the next, making the world a tad bit lighter with their darkness whipped from existence.

Although soon enough you became unsettled with the loads of information expunged from Hydra, your mind inevitably making a one eighty back to a certain broody super soldier from your complicated past. He must be in the world somewhere, living as a secret civilian or whatnot. He has to be. And you’ve decided to find him before someone else does.

Maybe it was curiosity, or the fact that he was like you and shared a bloody history with Hydra, but your instinctual drive to find the Winter Soldier eventually drew you the beautiful city of Bucharest, Romania. Although he didn’t make finding him effortless in the slightest, after endless days hacking into network databases looking for even a snippet of information. You found a lead.

Turns out airport security footage is very useful, even more so, footage from around the city’s grant center; and from there you were able to track him to Romania. Eventually after a couple of days in the city, you were able to catch a glimpse of him at the local market place and thus followed him to his little shitty apartment without him as so much as noticing.

Once he left again, you slipped inside and began your wait for his eventual return. But will he even want to speak with you? Does he even remember you? Your memories hadn’t been continuously whipped like his were, granted you were forced into cryo more then once and electroshocked into forgetting your memories. It eventfully stopped once they realized your mind would just heal itself into remembering again, so instead they threatened you with a tracking device deep into your skin tissue that would blow up if you tried to run.

Clearly you eventually found a way around this, as terrible of a memory it gave you.

——

Looking out the window, your ears suddenly pick up the sound of boots stealthily walking down the hallway, they’re incredibly light against the tiles outside, perhaps he somehow knows you’ve been following him. A moment later the scent of a man fills your nostrils and you know he’s inside the apartment. You could barely hear the door.

He’s silent as a mouse, nothing indicating he’s even there except for his rapidly thudding heartbeat that pounds anxiously against his strong chest; you slowly turn to face him. His hat from earlier is gone, dark blue eyes stare warily on you while soft breaths emit from his slightly parted lips. He’s not afraid, but he is nervous.

Folding your arms over your chest, you take a glance around the room, “Nice place.” You confirm casually, eyes back on the Winter Soldier in a second as the corner of your lips pull into a humored half grin, “I’m not here to complete some personal Vendetta against you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Then why are you here?” His voice is more curious then cold, maybe he can be reasoned with after all.

Taking a step forward, you shrug, “Wanted to make sure you aren’t still on their side.”

He keeps silent for a moment as you watch him watch you, “I’m done with them.” Mutters Bucky, disgust dripping off his words. That’s exactly what you wanted to hear. Progress.

“Good.” You add with the tiniest of smiles before motioning towards his little kitchen table, “Mind if we sit and talk? As, well...I guess civilians now.”

Studying your face for any indication of falseness and hostility, he’s pleasantly surprised when he finds none. Bucky takes off both of his gloves and sits, metal hand shinning in the low lighting. A threat or a precaution? Maybe he just wants it off?

You follow his example, and soon the two of you sit not even three feet away from each other. Both yourself and Bucky hold an awkward silence for a long moment as the tension in the room rises, shifting your gaze from the counter behind him, you don’t really notice as he trails his eyes over your face, “I remember you.” Reveals Bucky to your great surprise, your eyes falling onto him in an instant, “They sent us on missions together, until you left and they woke me up to kill you for it.”

Smiling, you let out a humored breath of air, “Turns out you didn’t miss me after all. I gave you a nice scar for your troubles though, you still have it?”

Bucky purses his lips into the tiniest of shadowy grins, although no real joy is shown, “It’s a thin little line across my left rib cage. Just barely reached my bone.” Yeah, and I would have if you didn’t punch me in the eye socket first, you think to yourself from when the Winter Soldier had tracked you down. But that’s a long story.

“Glad it’s healed and they didn’t have you come after me a second time. I don’t think I would have let you live again.”

He thinks hard for a second as he processes your words, “You let me live? The first time?”

“Well,” You serenely admit, “I couldn’t exactly kill you...I guess, well....I don’t really know why I didn’t kill you when I had the chance. Guess I’m not as ruthless as Hydra wanted.” You mumble with a conflicted frown, the two of you keep silent before you break the odd tension, “Doesn’t matter now. I heard about what happened in D.C. just like the rest of the world. Gotta say, I was wondering what everyone over there had been getting themselves into.”

“They leaked everything.” Mumbles Bucky with a knowing flash of insight within his dark restless eyes.

“I know.” You add with a slow nod, “I’ve been traveling more cautiously for the past year and a half now. You’d think they’d let us live in peace, of course not. But I guess it means the world knows what a piece of shit organization Hydra is. So that’s something.”

“Yes.” Agrees Bucky, eyes trailing from your fingerless gloves to your face, of course he remembers what hides beneath, “What happened to you since you left?

Fumbling with your fingers as they lay against his table, you turn you head to the window, the ghost of a smile dancing across your lips, “Surviving. You?”

He shifts his gaze back down to his metal hand as you turn to face him, “About the same I’d say.”

Leaning back against your creaky wooden chair, you hand him a small yet friendly smile, “Well then. What of us now? Two ex-assassins alone in the world. With nothing but our wit and fists to keep us afloat.” You add with a low chuckle, he doesn’t crack.

Losing your smile, the two of you keep silent as ghosts for a long moment before Bucky shifts uncomfortably in his seat, “I got some tea.” Replies the admittedly handsome man now since you have a moment to really look; the briefest hint of a grin revealing itself against his lips for only but a flash of a second. But you still see it.

Fumbling with your fingers you give him a pursed lip grin, “I like tea.”

[sun-moon-stars-jedi]

So, I have this idea for a Batfam time travel fanfic that starts when Jason, Tim and Damian are somehow teamed up for a mission (the disaster is practically inevitable from the beginning, but everyone else was either busy or injured, so Bruce had to begrudgingly send them out together) and just as you would expect, something goes terribly wrong.

Later Jason will say it was Tim’s fault because his cape got in the way and tripped Jason up, Tim will say Damian pushed him into Jason’s path so it was really Damian’s fault, and Damian will say that it was a reflection from Jason’s dumb helmet that blinded him and made him stumble into Tim, but regardless of what really happened, they somehow land right in the path of the strange ray gun their villain-of-the-week is wielding and are all hit by something that looks and sounds and feels like a bolt of lightning.

When they wake up, miraculously still alive and only a little bit sore, the warehouse around them is empty, their comms are dead, and once they make their way outside they quickly realize they’re in a Gotham years before their time.

Now, there are of course some very strict rules regarding time-travel and interacting with people they know in the past, but as their luck would have it, their entrance wasn’t exactly subtle (even in Gotham people notice lightning and thunder whithout a thunderstorm), and before they can even make it a block away from the warehouse Batman and Robin swing down from the rooftops and confront them.

Batman of course does his whole “Who are you and what do you want in my city” thing, complete with the growly voice and intimidating loom, but it’s not like that can faze any of his kids after all this time.

No, what gets to them, particularly Tim and Damian, is the teeny version of Dick standing next to Bruce. He can’t be any older than 11 or 12, and while Tim and Damian had both seen pictures and heard the stories, seeing their older brother standing as tall as he can (which isn’t all that tall even compared to them) in his bright yellow cape and the short pants next to Batman...well, can anyone really blame them for bursting out laughing?

That’s of course not the reaction Batman and Robin expect, and for a few seconds they just seem to freeze up in the face of these new costumed...cosplayers?? criminals?? vigilantes?? who are just laughing their asses off when faced with the dynamic duo.

Jason is the only one who doesn’t fall into hysterics (he can’t start laughing; he wore the short pants too and would only open himself up to even more ridicule in the future than he would already undoubtedly get from the two little twerps), and he’s also not stunned with surprise, because he knows exactly what’s going on here.

So, as the only capable person around (what else is new) he barks at Tim and Damian to cut it out and behave professionally. They’re on a mission after all, and they don’t want to antagonize Batman and Robin, do they?

Surprisingly they listen, Tim even mumbles somewhat of an apology at Robin, who still looks kind of sulky, but accepts it after a nudge from Batman.

Then there’s an awkward silence where both sides just look each other over, though it’s not as hostile as it was before, and with some quick mental math on how much he can tell Bruce Jason starts to explain that they’re also a vigilante team like them and don’t want any trouble, they had only made their way into Gotham because they’d tracked a lead.

Jason keeps everything deliberately vague and doesn’t mention the time-travel (he’s not even sure if Bruce and Dick had encountered something like it at this point and he absolutely doesn’t want to get thrown into Arkham because they think he’s delusional), but apparently his answers satisfy Bruce, because he loosens his stance and nods in approval.

Bruce asks if they need any help, what kind of case they’re working on, what their code-names are - they all have to come up with something fast here, because obviously Red Hood, Red Robin and Robin are precisely the worst names they could give Bruce and Dick in this time, so Jason calls himself Arsenal, Tim says Drake (still the worst name Jason has ever heard) and Damian says Flamebird, which is pretty cute Jason has to admit, though he will still definetly tease his brother about his choice once they’re back home.

It’s only when Bruce asks “And how long are you and your sons planning to stay in the city?” that Jason realizes Bruce thinks they’re a father/son(s) crime-fighting team the same as him and Dick and before he can think better of it he says “Not long.” in answer and leaves the other part of the question uncorrected, even though he can practically feel two pairs of eyes burning into his back with indignation.

The conversation moves on and somehow there never seems to be a good opportunity to rectify that, and so they eventually part ways with Bruce and Dick, planning to meet again the next night to exchange information.

Jason, the chaotic older brother that he is, can’t resist a “Come along now, sons” just as they leave - Tim and Damian are pissed, Jason isn’t their dad, he can’t tell them what to do, and once they’re out of Batman and Robin’s earshot they make their opinion on that very clear, but it’s too late now - for as long as they’re in this time they’ll have to pretend in front of Bruce and Dick.

As it turns out getting back home takes a little longer than Jason, Tim and Damian had initially hoped for, so they spend at least a week or two in this time, during which they meet Dick and Bruce pretty much every night and even begin to help out a little when something more dangerous goes down (though compared to what they’re used to, this version of Gotham is pretty tame).

Because Jason can’t resist annoying his brothers he fully lays into the dad role, calling them “son” or “sport” whenever he can and delighting in the furious glares he receives in return.

At some point it also becomes clear how much more experience the three of them have compared to Bruce and Dick, who have only been vigilantes for a couple of years at this point, and when this young Bruce openly asks Jason for advice on how to be a good vigilante dad because Jason obviously seems to have more experience than him, Jason doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry.

This young Bruce is still Bruce Wayne with all his faults of course, but he’s also a lot less jaded and world-weary and sad, so Jason gladly gives him some advice that he hopes makes some things better without breaking the entire time-line.

Meanwhile Tim and Damian learn first hand what a menace young Dick Grayson was - he disobeys orders, pulls dangerous stunts, fights in freaking short pants, but gets away with everything because of his puppy-dog-eyes and because Bruce was even more of a pushover back then than he is in their time.

Obviously Bruce and Dick never learn the true identities of their visitors or their connections to them in this time - one day the three of them just don’t show up anymore and when they investigate they find a post-it note in the warehouse where they’d first met them that just says “Gone home. See you some time in the future.” with the three names Arsenal, Drake and Flamebird signed underneath.

“It was pretty fun having other kids to talk to about all of this,” Dick says, sounding subdued as he looks at the note and Bruce knows he will probably regret this, but he just can’t stand to see his son sad.

“I heard Green Arrow has a side-kick now,” Bruce says, trying to sound casual, but the way Dick looks at him with tentative hope just makes his heart melt instantly. He would give this kid the world if he asked for it. “Maybe it would be a good idea to meet them.”

[adelindschade]

I’m at work so I’ll try to speedily sum up an idea I had way back that I only got into writing a little bit ago (still in draft form). Pardon any typos as I’m on the phone and technically not supposed to on the clock lol

Nesta dies. Sort of. She falls down the stairs, bumps her head, bleeds from said wound, and her powers geared up as a last resort healing process - all but cremating her in a slightly alternate version of winnowing - and having a phoenix moment, plus amnesia that manifests in a weird dream sequence she plays off as a repetitive nightmare. Falling down the stairs in a loop and waking up before the pain strikes - those kind of dreams.

She is taken in by Eris after being dumped in the No Fae human lands, alerted by his sentries, and being the chaotic grey persona he is, he neglects to tell her about the gaps in her memory. She knows nothing but the fact she has powers than apparently came from the cauldron (what’s that?) and her name is Nesta (who told him that? But okay…) and that she has no family to reconnect with (technically true since she chose banishment but that choice was overrode, surprise surprise! Not that she remembers anything prior to the accident to know that)

She’s his head council and trained weapon. They plot and scheme to slowly rid themselves of Beron and do so under the radar. His death appears natural but of course they have critics who suspect the transition from father to son was awfully convenient. Nonetheless, a peaceful transition is desired, and a hasty coronation is held to assure a smooth transfer of power and establish Eris��� reign as the new High Lord of Autumn.

Nesta is hooded and told to demonstrate her powers (as an intimidation tool) onto dissenters (imprisoned officials who plotted against Eris, prior supporters of his late father) in front of an audience composed of native and outside court nobles - including the Night Court. A public execution to show the lengths the new court will go to protect their new hold over their realm.

Elain is alone and Lucien has yet to be acknowledge as her mate, standing on his side of the court next to Eris. Her identity is unknown except for a few who suspect her power is too closely resembling Nesta - but Nesta is dead, isn’t she? Cassian doesn’t think so - delirious and clinging to hope that no body means no proof she’s actually departed of this world.

Only they get more than they expected when the hooded advisor then REVIVES the skeletalized dissenters (basically mindless animated corpses) and Eris informs in so few words to his court and all of the realm how his army is stronger than ever, versatile in every aspect, and unconditionally loyal to him. (Rather, Nesta, but indirectly to Autumn) and how such force than extend to rivals as well. Fear is the goal - and it is accomplished in spade.

Another shocked: he asked the night court to provide two priestesses in exchange for a book to aid Feyre, but the surviving priestess of the twins is nowhere to be seen - and neither the shadow singer. Rhys is embarrassed and struggles to provide an excuse for their absence. Elain is humiliated as her betrothal to Azriel was abruptly cut short - unbeknownst to them (Autumn) he discovered Gwyn was his mate and ran off before Rhys could force him to hand her off.

There was a lapse in language as it was presumed Gwyn would be providing an heir (via betrothal) and not that was going to be acknowledged as an heir, with Eris eager to announce and legitimatize her to further strengthen his claim.

Azriel ran with Gwyn before she could be subject to what he deemed to be cruelty and Rhys is without a book, embarrassed in front of the other lords, and suspecting Nesta behind the hood (or worse - another Fae capable of great destruction that needed to be neutralized)

Cassian and Feyre are clinging to hope Nesta is revived and plead to know of whom Eris holds close - what their identity is - but Eris is quick and determined to keep her face unknown and away from prying peers who might mean harm or conspire against him.

Nesta questions the tug she feels and then suspects Rhys attempting to get her head, as Eris warned her about, and shows off her fire to dissuade Rhys from pushing it - alarming him as he realizes she knows what he is capable of - and raises red flags.

He makes it clear: that person (still not sure who he’s targeting) either needs to be eliminated or coerced into changing courts, as an army of the dead is far more dangerous than any the Night Court could conjure on a whim (especially with the lower Illyrian lords rebelling). He tasks Cassian as a step in for Azriel while he sends Mor to seek out his wayward spy.

There’s a snag. Eris is livid his plan to initiate a solid blood related heir has been foiled by the night court. He demands that she be presented by the next moon cycle or else the Night Court shall prepare for grace ramifications. With war looming, the Inner Circle is scrambling for reproach to save their court and their reputation.

Another snag: Eris looks to Nesta and tells her to go forth. Do what she will to make sure Gwyneth Berdara is within his court by the next moon cycle. If the Night Court fails to produce her before Nesta (purposely unnamed by Eris) they best prepare their defenses. (A promise of vengeance or just to make them sweat?) May whoever intervenes to stand in his way be given the penalty of absolution (as demonstrated in Autumn fashion) - decreed by the High Lord himself.

Cassian and Rhys now have to fear for Azriel’s safety. Nesta, with no recollection of whom Azriel is besides the meddlesome and cruel shadowsinger, has her own vision that Gwyn is in grave peril in his custody and vows to bring her to safety in Autumn where she is given far better standing and accommodations than what the Night Court provides. She nods in silent affirmations. Azriel has no idea what storm is awaiting them.

The Night Court is pulled at the limbs to save their brother, a pregnant Feyre, discover the identity of their nose foe, and the livelihood of their court. Eris is desperate to validate his court, reinstate his line of legitimacy, and keep Nesta in his allegiance.

Mor and Elain both propose they can salvage ties by presenting marriage. Mor to Eris to produce an heir (unlikely due to her condition but a temporary time bidder) + Elain to Lucien to assuage tensions (a token piece). It’s rejected by Eris who sees through their ruse. He wants no part of that and Lucien can accept whom he chooses.

PART TWO HAS YET TO BE PLOTTED because I have no idea how to dramatically reveal Nesta but ideas are welcomed as I already invested too much to not to try to write it out. I just like a good spicy plot with plenty of tension and conflict (ensues in evil laughter)

[saphirered]

Hi welcome back! Hope you’re doing well. Random question b4 my request, bc I want to give back as thanks for the great writing: are you a coffee, tea, or hot chocolate/cocoa drinker? I prefer hot chocolate and sweet tea.

How would the m9 respond to an SO/friend with a kid? Where the reader is a single parent with a child of at most 10 years old. Thanks :)

- 🐋

This took a while to write so sorry for that 😅. I'm so glad you like my writing! I love writing for you lot. I'm definitely a hot cocoa person. I hope this one turned out to your liking 😘.

----------

Caleb:

You never hid the fact you had a child from Caleb, if anything you’re proud of them. Though, you do know in certain company it’s better to keep that fact a secret for safety reasons. Caleb understands that fully he respects and admires you always put your child’s best interests first.

This is why when you began getting more involved with Caleb you kept your child out of it and took a good amount of time before introducing them to the wizard. You didn’t want to set expectations for both sides and wanted to protect and preserve them both should what you and Caleb had going not work out after all.

It’s no surprise Caleb is good with children. He takes a gentle approach when it comes to all things good in this world to the point of almost being afraid to ‘ruin it’. You assured him many times he was in the clear and how could his heart not warm at the curiosity and search for knowledge your child was already displaying.

With your permission Caleb began teaching your child some things here and there. The theoretics of magic and eventually simple spells. The smile it brought to their faces while they worked couldn’t make you happier. Caleb definitely earned your child’s approval to stick around.

Beau:

At first Beau is surprised. She knows children come from somewhere of course. She’s not stupid but actually tying a child to their parent let alone being very close to that parent is a whole new story. Especially learning you raised your child on your own and seeing you want to provide what’s best for them definitely earns you her respect, not having a parent with the same motivation herself and all.

The day of introductions came along and as expected Beau is the most awkward, trying not to be a terrible influence and be on her best behaviour, makes her very much on edge. An perceptive child picking up on this awkward behaviour calling her out leaving her cursing like a sailor, then apologising for said curses, even less of a surprise. You had to assure her many times it was fine.

Beau makes a promise that no matter what, she’ll make sure you’ll be returning to your child and make sure they get the love and support they deserve. Growing up without loving parents is one thing. Growing up an orphan another. She’d do everything in her power to keep you safe.

It may have began with joking comments such as ‘finish your homework’ to ‘do the dishes’ and ‘be nice to your parent while I’m gone’ but it didn’t take long before Beau was helping them with their homework or cleaning dishes after you cooked.

Absolutely treats your child as someone capable of making decisions of their own and speaking for themselves. No baby voices or cooing like too many adults tend to do even to a child regardless of their age. Your child has thoughts and opinions of their own and for the love of all that is sacred, can speak for themselves. You’re glad Beau treats them with a sense of maturity.

Fjord:

Fjord may have done what can only be referred to as a spit take the moment you said you had a child. Clearly didn’t expect it but giving him time to recover and process he’d ask all sorts of questions. What are they like? What do they like? And of course the dreaded question about your partner.

Supportive Fjord for the win. After finding out you’re on your own he’d always have your back, checking in with you and making sure you’re doing alright amidst the stress of the world and raising a child in the mix of it all. He’d open up to you about his past and being raised without any kind of proper parental figure. What he wouldn’t have done to have someone like you around when it counted for him.

Introducing them went rather smoothly. Fjord is surprisingly good with children. While some might find him intimidating, he nearly melted when your child embraced him as a thank you for looking out for you. Fjord was happy to answer any and all questions your child asked.

Whenever you’d be swept away for a while having to leave your child in the care of your trusted ones, Fjord would tell your child to ‘have the wheel, sailor’ which they would return with a salute before biding you both goodbye. Fjord slowly transcended into a bit of a father role and none of you minded in the least. You were happy.

Veth:

When she spoke of her boy she left behind you pitied her. A child shouldn’t be without their family. They deserved to be loved and sheltered from the darkness of the world until they are ready. When you told her you had one of your own Veth really felt safe to confide in you with her worries and troubles. You bonded over it really, drowning out all the sad stories and struggles with fond memories of both your families. Sadly for you, that would only extend to you and your child, the memories of their other parent perhaps somewhat painful to share.

You wondered what it would be like if your children ever got to meet in person. Then the day came. Nicodranas really had a way of bringing families together didn’t it? First time may have been a bit strange, your child being fully aware of Veth’s need for a disguise with her son, played their part well. Both you and Veth may have wiped away some tears when Luc claimed your child their big sibling from now on, and you his third parent.

Work and life are a difficult combination for Veth. She wants nothing more than to be with Yeza and take care of her boy but as long as the world’s in peril and her other family needs her just as much if not more, she’ll have to leave them behind. Knowing that you and your child are with her husband and son when she can’t be eases her mind a lot and she’s forever grateful.

It goes unsaid that Veth’s time away from children and in the presence of adults, specifically the Mighty Nein may have left her a bit out of the routines of raising a child as shown by giving Luc and your child fireworks, promising them to teach them how to shoot a crossbow and more. You did have to hold her back a little with the help of Yeza and keep things a bit more contained for their safety, but mostly yours.

Jester:

Of course upon learning you’re raising your child all by yourself Jester goes onto a rant about how her and her mom were always alone and how Marion used to read stories to her and do you read stories to your child and do you sing to them and draw with them and give them hugs and cuddles after nightmares and… You have no idea how that girl doesn’t run out of breath.

Jester couldn’t be anyone but herself when meeting your child asking about their interests, do they like to draw and sing and dance and… You ran out of breath just listening to her talk and your child replying in similar fashion. Everything went quite well and the two of them got along. Jester would be singing them songs and teaching them how to draw resulting in many dick drawings randomly appearing in your books, notes and other places, followed by mischievous giggles.

Having bought your child a lovely green cloak and letting them pretend they’re the Traveler here to spread mischief and fun and leave behind many phallic shaped objects drawn and carved wherever possible sent you all in laughing fits but you swore you heard a more masculine chuckle and saw a green cloak fade into the shadows. Odd.

What only can be summed up as the combination between big sibling, fun wine cupcake aunt and mom, remained a constant in your life and you couldn’t be more thankful to have that ray of sunshine be there for all of you.

Caduceus:

Caduceus is very calm and collected about learning you have a child. Less of a response than perhaps anyone else perviously unknowing. “That’s nice.” He’d nod. You’d almost start thinking he may have been able to read it off you for some reason. He confirmed he was, the tired eyes, and the recovery of exasperation at times but sense of accomplishment and reward was a look he had seen from his own mother many times.

“You’re weird.” A stare down ensued. “You’re weird too.” Eyes sharpened. “I like you.” The ice broke and smiles followed. For a moment you were afraid that maybe your child wouldn’t like the odd firbolg and thinking about how you would keep friends and family separate but a wave of relief went over you knowing that all was well between the two most valuable people in your life.

You’d be handed a fresh cup of tea by your child, a plate of snacks by Caduceus, all too innocent smiles on their faces but all it took was a raised eyebrow from you to have them come clean about the kitchen being covered in soil from the two of them potting new plants, turning your home and garden in what can only be described as a greenhouse and rather ask for forgiveness than permission. You weren’t mad of course, but did make them clean the mess they made.

You’re still unsure whether or not it was a good or bad idea introducing your child to the extended Clay family as you got some insight in the chaotic prank wars between the siblings and all together sibling rivalry among some of them. It’s all fun and games of course but some moments you were glad you weren’t the one pelted with mud pies by Calliope or pushed into the spring by Calliope herself. Instead you could just enjoy Clarabelle’s bug collection with your child while laughing at the other’s being covered in mud and soaked to the bone.

Yasha:

Poor Yasha doesn’t recall much of a family. In reality she never really felt like she had one until the circus, and after them the Nein. When she saw you and your child together, the unconditional love you had for each other, she felt like she finally realised what she had been missing, and something she perhaps would never have. She learned the value of such a relationship.

Yasha has no idea how to interact with children at any level and by default tends to treat them as either adults, or cute animals. No in between. It took her some time to get the hang of it but you couldn’t deny both you and your child rather enjoyed the unconventional relationship.

The wastes and hardships of Xhorhas may force a child to grow up quickly in the tribes but that doesn’t mean children outside of those regions have to learn how to wield a sword and what bugs you can and cannot eat or how to best skin an animal before eating it… It took some convincing why that was not a necessary skill to learn at the tender age of ten.

You compromised with Yasha on the fighting in the end, persuaded by the woman and your child to allow her to teach them some fighting basics because someone’ has to have your back when Yasha’s not there. You did manage to hold them off on purchasing a sword perhaps too large for your child despite the ‘they’ll grow into it’ reasoning and instead settled on training equipment instead.

Mollymauk:

Oh Mollymauk, nothing surprises this one. He felt rather sorry for you going through the struggles of raising a child alone. He may not remember his own family but he’s traveled far and wide enough to know the hardships. He knows poor Toya and he admires you for being able to do what so many can’t or won’t.

It goes unsaid that Molly is perhaps the worst of influences when it comes to people but you’ve seen him interact with Toya before and know well enough he’s a kind and caring soul who wants only the best for those who can’t just yet fend for themselves. It’s a good foundation that leads to a better person. He jokingly claims himself proof of that through the carnival and him ‘being an absolute asshole’.

Molly’s soft side really does come out whenever he’s around your child. He doesn’t deliberately censor himself but tries to contain certain words and avoid certain subjects that should never be discussed around your child knowing you’d appreciate it and if he does let something slip and your child ask questions he’d gently explain it as certain things should definitely not be described in gory detail to someone of their age.

This circus man is not afraid to put on a show in any circumstance and will happily do so to cheer you or your child up whenever you’re feeling a bit down or overworked. Whether he’s making a fool of himself, giving you bogus card readings, juggle his swords or tell the most ridiculous stories ever he’d do it without a second thought because it brings you and your child joy. You’re part of his family and he’d go to hell and back again for you.

[yikesharringrove]

I have a headcanon that Billy doesn"t really know how to apologize like most people do. To him, the words are kind of empty so he just does things for people instead. Things like replacing all of the dishes with better quality ones for the Byers, making the girliest clothes Max hates disappear and replaced with things she likes, a new slingshot showing up in Lucas's locker, breaking into a car to fix it. Steve is weirdly charmed by it.

These may both be you? But here’s a combo since they’re p much the same idea

anonymous asked: Billy has forgotten how to actually connect with people so he shows affection through acts of chaotic good, like planting catnip all over the yard of the lady who allergic for yellomg at Max or breaking into a car so he can fix the engine. Steve figures out Billy is the one doing all these oddly kind things but he is still kind of intimidated by the blonde so instead of thanking him out right he just leaves things like cigarettes and baked good for him in his car. Have fun with that one!

This got pretty long so I put some of it under the cut.

-

Billy didn’t believe in the words I’m sorry.

They just didn’t make sense  to him. He had never heard the words when someone actually meant them, and fuck knows he’s never actually meant those words before.

But that does not mean there aren’t things in his life he regrets.

For example: beating the shit outta Steve Harrington.

He felt like absolute fucking garbage about it. 

Harrington hadn’t deserved that shit. Billy was just runnin’ hot that night, and Harrington had been unlucky enough to have bad timing.

But he didn’t know how to fix it.

So he started leaving snacks in Steve’s locker.

He noticed how he would always be giving his friends the food off his fucking plate, so he would shove granola bars, candies, even made him a sandwich one day.

He watched as Steve would eat whatever it was Billy had left for him, just fuckin’ chowed down without question.

He would look into classes, find out where Steve sat and leave little treats on his desk.

“Mr. Harrington, I think you may have a secret admirer.” Steve flushed a little at the cupcake, and shoved it into his mouth in two bites at the beginning of history class, but he wasn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak, and figured whenever this chick came forward, he would thank her for being so thoughtful, and let her down gently.

-

After leaving Harrington alone with all his snacks, Billy set his sights on his other regret.

He had Max hadn’t always fought and bickered. True, Billy wasn’t the warmest, when they first met, but once he got his car they would drive around together a lot. He’d take her to the arcade and the boardwalk. They both didn’t like being home too much.

So when Billy’s informed he’ll be watching Max for the weekend while Neil takes Susan to the city, he forms a little plan.

There’s one Chinese restaurant in Hawkins. It’s totally not authentic, not like the dim sum they used to get wandering around San Fransisco, but they had steamed pork buns and Billy picked up eight.

He let Max do whatever she wanted that weekend, figured they would have better luck with one another if they both acted like outdoor cats, coming and going as they pleased, but come Sunday evening, all the pork buns were gone, and there was an unopened pack of cigarettes on his nightstand.

-

Regret number three: Lucas Sinclair.

Billy probably felt the most fucked up over this kid.

He’d gone after him, a fucking child, in his blind rage.

He had figured that out when he came to on the floor of that weird house, sitting up empty and alone, realizing I’m just like Neil.

He had seen all those kids with their nerdy toys, went out to RadioShack, early Sunday morning, leaving with a light wallet and a new idea.

Dustin was arguing with Mike over the realism of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, like there was anything realistic about it.

Lucas rolled his eyes, opening his locker, his mouth dropping open when he saw something inside.

He pulled the bag out, peering inside.

There were six brand new walkie talkies inside.

They were better than the ones they already used, had further range and more channels.

Everyone went silent.

“Um, these aren’t mine.”

Max’s eyes went wide. She snatched something up from the top shelf of Lucas’s locker.

The new Wrist Rocket had a note attached to it. She knows this handwriting, but couldn’t place it.

Enjoy the new gear. Don’t quit saving the world.

“Do you think they’re from Steve?”Max furrowed her brows at the note.

And then everything clunked into place.

“Maybe.”

The boys were tearing into the new walkies.

She got two cokes from the vending machine at lunch, handing one quietly to Billy when she got in his car after school.

-

Billy doesn’t really know what he’s doing here.

He had driven Max to one of her nerdy little friend’s houses, and somehow he got roped into staying? He doesn’t even remember.

But now he’s standing with a short kind woman, in the exact kitchen he beat the shit out of Harrington in, with Steve himself leaning against the other wall, watching the kids like some kinda hawk.

Billy’s hands were shaky, and he inserted himself into washing dishes from dinner.

He noticed most of them had chips, and all of them were mismatched. He put them away quietly, and drove to the nearest home goods store he could find.

Ceramic plates didn’t run too much, and he got a nice set of three different sizes, twelve plates of each size, light blue like the one he broke.

He left them on the porch, parked his car down the road a ways.

He rang the doorbell, sprinting and diving into the bushes before anyone can see him.

He watched as one of the sons, the one his age, the one in his English literature class, opened the door, his brow furrowing at the box of new plates.

“Um, Mom? Somebody left us a set of plates?”

He closed the door, but the took the plates with him.

-

Billy was sitting on the lawn, had just finished raking up all the damn leaves, and was taking a well-earned smoke break as he watched Max skating up and down the street, practicing her kickflips and ollies.

She cut into the driveway across the street, the only one on the entire block that was well paved, no cracks in the cement.

“Get out of here!” Max started as Mrs. Reynolds, a mean old woman was shouting through her screen door. “You little hooligan! You’re going to leave marks!”

Max bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she boarded back over to their house, standing next to Billy.

“I’ll be having a word with your father!” She rolled her eyes as Billy ground his jaw.

Cat nip was way more expensive than Billy was expecting, but he bought plenty of packages, returning home just past sunset.

He waited until about three in the morning, when Mrs. Reynolds’ sprinklers had finally turned back off before he climbed out his window, spreading the cat nip through her yard.

He flipped her house the bird.

Max was awed at the cats the next morning as Billy drove them both to school.

There must’ve been at least a hundred.

“Isn’t Mrs. Reynolds allergic?” Billy tried not to laugh.

“Damn. That sucks for her.”

-

Billy was sitting on the hood of his car, reading one of his lit books while he waited for Max to get out of her nerd club.

He startled a little bit when someone knocked on the hood.

And it was Harrington, smiling sheepishly at Billy.

“The Byers got some new plates last night. You know anything about that?” Billy tracked the thin scar on Steve’s head. It disappeared into his hairline. Billy wonders how long he had sat in front of a mirror, picking glass out of his thick hair.

“Who’re the Byers?” Steve huffed a laugh.

-

Max was standing in front of the mirror looking like a grumpy old cat.

Susan had bought her a lovely new dress, and Max fucking hated it. Susan was fussing over it, saying I ordered it from the Sears catalog! and can you believe it was only fifteen dollars?

Billy slipped a five and a ten into Susan’s purse later that day, taking the dress to the Goodwill downtown.

He found Max a couple crappy t-shirts there, bands she would hum to on the radio, shit like Journey and Foreigner, and slid them into her closet where the dress used to be.

She wore one the next day, blinking slowly at him over breakfast.

He avoided all eye contact.

-

Steve has long legs.

this was of course something Billy always knew, but watching him stalk in all his righteous fury down the street towards the high school really solidified that fact for Billy.

He was stomping, his strides long as he hustled to class. Billy thought about offering him a ride, didn’t think they were there yet.

Billy found himself in Steve’s driveway later that night, popping the hood of Steve’s dead car and searching over everything with a flashlight.

Billy rolled his eyes.

Steve had probably always paid someone else when his car broke down, didn’t realize if your oil was low, your car wouldn’t work.

Billy kept a few cans in his trunk, refilled the bad boy for Steve, making sure that was it.

He found nothing else wrong and Steve pulled into the school parking lot the next morning.

Billy could feel Steve staring at him when he walked into school.

He found Steve sitting on his car at lunch, holding the sandwich Billy had snuck into his locker, and a loaf of bread wrapped in cling film. .

Billy raised an eyebrow.

“I saw you last night.” His cheeks went hot. “Thanks for fixing my car. And all the snacks and stuff. And for the Byers’ plates. And for all the stuff with Max.”

“Nothin’s happened with Max.” Steve appraised him for a moment.

“She said you’re being nicer.” He held up the bread. “Homemade banana bread. Made it while you were being not at all stealthy fixing my car.” He smiled at Billy, one a’ those perfect sunshine smiles Billy had only ever seen Steve direct towards his kids.

“I just changed your oil. Car won’t run if you don’t got oil.” Steve furrowed his brow.

“My gas tank was full. I had just filled it.”

“Nah Pretty Boy, oil. It’s different.” And Billy took a deep breath. “Could show you, if you like. Teach you some basic car shit. How to jump, how to change a tire.”

Steve beamed at him.

“I’d like that! I don’t know shit about fixing cars. Always figured it would go way over my head.”

“It’s pretty easy. There’s usually only a few major things that go wrong in nice cars that are easy fixes. You’ll figure it out quick.” Steve slid off his car, and Billy lamented that for a minute, liked how Steve looked perched on Billy’s car, wondered how he’d look in the passenger seat, in the backseat-

Steve pushed the bread into Billy’s hands.

“Y’know, I forgive you. For that night.” Billy tightened his jaw. Steve’s eyes were a little green in the sun. “There was a lot goin’ on, and I was being sketchy. I don’t hold it against you.”

“I, uh, thanks, I guess. I’m sorry, about it.” Steve smiled at him again, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a bit.

“Yeah, I know.” Steve took a bite of his sandwich, his cheeks all cute and full. “And I’m more of a ham and cheese fan.” Billy rolled his eyes at Steve, taking with his mouth full of turkey sandwich.

“Sorry man, you get what Susan buys.” Steve laughed, his mouth still full. Billy was uncomfortably endeared by it.

“Don’t be surprised to find some lasagna on your porch one night soon.” And Steve winked at him, walking backwards towards the school. “You’re not so bad, Billy.”

“Tryin’ not to be.” Steve gave him a stupid little finger gun. Billy’s heart melted.

“You’re doin’ a good job.” And Steve set off back into the school.

[everydayshalloween]

eleanor of aquitaine, both husbands, kids from both marriages, and any grandchildren you prefer <3

Aight that is indeed a lot of people...LET'S DO IT :D They'll be pretty short bc that's a lot of people

Eleanor of Aquitaine:

-One hell of a sarcastic woman, everything she says usually bleeds sarcasm (her daughter Matilda is equally just as sarcastic)

-Somehow has the patience to put up with her kids' dumbassery

-T A L L W O M A N (very tall I don't make the rules)

-Says she loves her kids equally, but prefers her daughters (and Richard) more

-Remember how I said Empress Matilda is intimidating? Meet her equally intimidating daughter in-law

Henry II:

-Poor guy misses half of his wife's sarcasm and then immediately turns to stare at her like "wait a god damn minute"

-"I don't know where my sons got the idea of teenage rebellion from-" Has family members who are the living definition of teenage rebellion

-While his wife is tall af, he's actually pretty average. So their children range from tall to short.

-"I had a bad day and will now proceed to make it everyone's problem :)"

Louis VII:

-Well y'know, one day you're married and have 2 beautiful daughters and the next day you're a single dad

-Tries his best to be a dad, but let's be real dad wasn't part of the job description

-Watches the absolute chaos that is his ex-wife's new family with a bowl of popcorn

-Pretty much a girl dad because that's what happens when you have 5 daughters

Marie of France (the eldest):

-On pretty good terms with her half-siblings on both sides, but holy SHIT is it tiring to be the eldest on both sides

-Pretty chill mom (four kids are easy to manage)

-Geoffrey would probably be her favorite brother. As for favorite sister? She won't say anything.

-Actually has a little bit of sass in her, she just doesn't show it.

Alix of France:

-Way to happy to be here

-Much like her older sister, she's a pretty chill mom; however, 7 kids is a lot more work than 4 kids

-Tougher than she looks with an added bonus of some of her mother's sarcasm

-Her and Eleanor, Fair Maid of Brittany would've gotten along SO well. She would've been the BEST aunt hands down.

William of England (the baby):

-Baby

-Absolute baby

-That's it send tweet

Henry the Young King:

-Best big brother...but only to his younger sisters. His brothers can go suck an egg half the time.

-I feel like he totally could be like his mother if he wanted to. Just to piss his father off.

-Him and Matilda are the number one sibling duo they do everything together

-Him and Margaret of France? Best friends to husband and wife. You can't convince me otherwise.

Matilda of England:

-Looks like her mom, acts like her mom. (Mom loves it, dad hates it. Grandma however gets a kick out of it)

-100% done with her siblings' shit

-Probably told the Holy Roman Emperor to fuck off after giving birth to her third kid.

-Absolutely 100% done with that guy's shit too btw.

Richard the Lionheart:

-His mother absolutely adores him as much as his sisters

-Him and his wife have a somewhat healthy relationship that's much better than his parents (I said what I said) however, they're more friends than a married couple

-Him and his sister Joan are the MOST CHAOTIC PAIR IN THE WHOLE FAMILY

-Stopped giving a fuck by the time he was a teenager (that was a GREAT decision)

Geoffrey II, Duke of Brittany:

-He's the sibling who has dirt on anyone and everyone who fucked with him

-Would have a mug that says "#1 Dad" let's be real. He'd also be the type of dad who shows off photos of his kids bc he's so proud.

-Probably the only brother with a marriage effective in both the management and family life departments

-"Of course I'm friends with Dad's enemy's son and Richard's maybe-boyfriend. What's the worst that could happen?" Famous last words-

Eleanor of England, Queen of Castile:

-Named after her mother, acts nothing like her

-Would probably cry if someone yells at her

-Best mom ever (her and Geoffrey would probably just talk about their kids for hours)

-"We just have a few kids, nothing too bad." Has more than "a few" kids

Joan of England:

-Looks like her dad, acts a LOT like her grandmother and mother

-Takes NO shit from anyone (probably called the king of Cyprus a bitch after her and her sister in-law shipwrecked and he captured them)

-Remember how Joan's mom is tall and her dad isn't as tall? Well...Joan's short. Very short. Which adds to the chaos levels.

-The amount of S A S S this woman radiates

King John (the youngest):

-Probably gets picked on for being the baby of the family

-"Yes I know I married a 12 year old. What about it?"

-I would say good uncle since several of his siblings had kids, but *gestures to the whole mess with Geoffrey's kids*

-Tried to be a good dad, but y'know

And now...some of the MANY grandkids...

Berengaria, Queen of Castile:

-The apple of her parents' eyes and the eldest

-Best big sister best big sister BEST BIG SIS-

-Best mom as well

-Has no idea what kind of stuff her family's on

Eleanor, Fair Maid of Brittany:

-Her parents' baby (until her sister was born)

-Would absolutely give her uncle and cousin hell for what they did if they weren't kings (and if her dad hadn't beaten her to it)

-Would've adored her half-sisters from her mother's third marriage

-Something tells me she probably would've adopted some of her dad's behaviors (because that's the Plantagenet way)

Arthur I, Duke of Brittany:

-I've made several posts about him, so...coolest big brother ever. He lets his little sisters sit with him in meetings.

-Probably acts a lot like his mother, but has a bit of the anger that runs through his dad's family

-If him and Philip II of France's daughter Marie had married...I'm predicting a possible power couple right there.

-He would've been a great king god damn it John-

Joan, Queen of Scotland:

-Hopeless romantic 100%

-Gets along with her brothers so well, it almost rivals Henry the Young King and Matilda

-Is very much like her aunt Eleanor, she will cry if someone yells at her

-Tries not to pay attention to her shitstorm of a family

Marie of Champagne, Latin Empress:

-The younger daughter and namesake of Marie of France, she is the spitting image of her mother and acts almost exactly like her.

-Absolutely adores her two daughters despite the small amount of time she had with them.

-Her husband is head over heels in love with her, but she wishes he would just...calm down a little bit.

-Got along with her siblings for the most part

[jaycewrites-192000]

Growl: Chapter 6

Warnings: None

Tags: @theravencawsatmidnight @etroman @kaariqueen

Your P.O.V

I sat on my bed, phone in hand trying to think of what to say to Kyotani. I would type out a few words then immediately delete it, because it sounded really dumb or really desperate. "Why is this so hard?" I groaned. I could say whatever to Iwaizumi and Oikawa and it wouldn't bother me later on, but with Kyotani...I just really don't want to mess this up. I looked back down at my phone screen, took a deep breath and typed.

Me: Hey Kyotani, it's me Y/n, did you make it back home?

I held my phone to my chest, I didn't even want to see the speech bubble pop up. But when it did, and my phone dinged, my stomach did a backflip. I looked at my phone.

Kyotani: Yeah.

Yeah. Yeah? That was all he typed? I sighed slightly, well, he never was a man of many words.

Me: That's good. So, about coming over again. How does tomorrow night sound?

"Wow, way to be clingy." I mutter.

Kyotani: Sounds good.

I blinked a few times. "Whoa really? That worked?"

Me: Cool! I'll see you then.

Kyotani: See ya.

I let out a weak sigh and fell back onto my bed. Before I fell asleep I went back to the texts and changed Kyotani's name to:

🐶Mad Puppy🐶

He might have the personality of a feral wolf, but he could be as cute a little puppy. I smiled softly before drifting off to sleep.

Your P.O.V

Your alarm jerked your awake early the next day. With a groan you sat up and turned it off and checked your phone, you gasped when you saw what day it was. "It's Saturday!!" You cheered before flopping back down on your bed. It might be immature for you to act like a child when it came to the weekend, but Jesus did you hate waking up early to go to some boring classes for eight hours a day. Besides, you had a very important day ahead of you. Tonight was the night you went over to Kyotani's place for dinner. The grin on your face only grew wider. "It's like a date...only his mom is going to be there too..."

Speaking of moms, you needed to tell your mom you wouldn't be home early tonight. "Oh great. She's never going to get off my back over this." You sighed. You got up and changed out of your pajama's and into some comfy clothes before heading downstairs. Your mother was just on her way out it the door once you got to the bottom of the stairs. "Hey mom!" You called, making her stop. "Yes sweetie?" She turns to face you. "Um, is it cool if I go over to a friends for dinner tonight?"

"Hm? You mean Iwaizumi?" She asks. "No, not him."

"Oikawa?"

"No."

"...uh, then who?" She mutters.

"A new friend. Remember that intense guy I told you about? His name is Kyotani." You tell her. "Huh, I see. Well first I'm happy that you're making new friends sweetie." Your mother smiled. "But are you sure this "intense" guy is a friend? I just want to make sure you're not being bullied."

"I'm not being bullied. He is a pretty angry person at times but, he's actually really cool too." Your mother took a minute to think about it. "Alright, you can go. Do apologize to them for me. I won't be there."

"You won't?" Your mother shook her head. "I work late tonight. I won't be home until midnight. Which I expect you to be home before then, understand?" Your mother raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I promise. I'll tell them." Your mother pats your head and opened the front door. "Good, I'll see you later." She waves before leaving the house. "Of course you're working late again." You mutter as you walk into the living room. It never use to bother you as much before, but the more you thought about it and the more you watch her leave, the more it bothered you. She was always working, even during the weekends. You two hardly ever talked at times. You sat on the couch and decided to watch your favorite show to pass the time.

After a while, your phone dinged.

Shittykawa: Heeeeeey L/n-Chan! Wanna hang out? I'm free all day~😙

. . . . .

Shittykawa: Don't ignore me!😫

You: That was my answer.

Shittykawa: Your answer was pure silence?

You: Yeah. 😒

Shittykawa: Whatever.🙄 What are you up to?

You: Lazying about. Something you would know well huh, Lazykawa?

Shittykawa: So. Rude. What about later tonight?

You: Can't. I have plans.

Shittykawa: Liiiiike?

You: What's it to you?

Shittykawa: Come on! The least you can do is tell me!

You: Uggggh! I have dinner plans with Kyotani ok!?

. . .

You: Shittykawa?

Shittykawa: YOU HAVE A DATE WITH MAD DOG!?

You: It's not a date!!!

Shittykawa: Really? You? Him? Dinner??? Is it not clicking L/n-Chan?

You: His mom is going to be there, dumbass.

Shittykawa: I just can't believe it... You. And Mad Dog??? Of all people???

Me: What's so wrong with that?

Shittykawa: First, I can't believe you chose him over me 😭 Second, he's not exactly the ladies man. He's more the, scare and intimidate everyone he comes in contact with, man.

Me: Oh shut up Shittykawa. Kyotani's cool. Now if you'll excuse me, he's texting me right now. So I'm gonna get to that if you don't mind 😡 Besides, we all know you gay af.

You didn't bother to read what Oikawa texted next.

Mad Puppy: Hey. You still on for tonight?

You: Yeah totally! I'm really looking forwards to it.

Mad Puppy: Cool. My mom's been pestering me about it all fucking morning. It's like she's trying to play matchmaker. It's ducking creepy.

Your heart twinged a bit at that.

You: Oh yeah? Sorry to hear that.

Mad Puppy: It's whatever. Just telling you ahead of time, she's gonna keep this up the whole night. I just know she is. Anyway, I'll call you later ok? I gotta take Killer on a walk.

You: Ok. Talk to you later.

You bury your face in your hands. You had a feeling that tonight was going to take a lot out of you.

Later that night you stayed close by your phone, just waiting for that call from Kyotani. You had already gotten ready ahead of time, just so you would have to be in a rush later. You wore a short (color) dress with leggings.

(I know that must suck, but give me a break idk what outfit description would satisfy you all lol)

You didn't want to be super dressy but you didn't want to look like a bum in front of Kyotani and his mom. Speaking of, your phone lit up as the ringer went off. You scramble to pick up your phone before answering. "H-hello?"

"Hey, just checking in. You all ready to go?"

"Yep, I'm ready. I'll be over soon."

"Oh uh, actually...I'm on my way to your place....I didn't want you to walk alone at night."

You held back an "aw", you knew it would make him mad. "That's really nice of you Kyotani. Thank you."

"Yeah, I just figured you'd feel more comfortable if you were with someone. Anyway, I'll be there in a few."

"Ok. I'll see you then." You hung up and held your phone to your chest, the brightest smile on your face. Who knew Kyotani could be so nice? You never thought that you would have fallen for someone who looks pissed 24/7, but here you are.

Shortly after, Kyotani was knocking at your door. You took a deep breath and opened the door. "Hi." You say softly. "Hey." He responds. "You ready to go?" You nod and walk out the door before shutting it. "Oh yeah, forgot to mention, my sister will be there too." He tells you. "Really? What's she like?"

"She's a l bitch." Kyotani says bluntly. "Oh come on." You laugh. "Is she really that horrible?" Kyotani nods. "Yep." You just rolled your eyes. You didn't have a brother or sister, but you understood that siblings would pick fights and "resent" each other from time to time. "Is your dad gonna be there too?" Kyotani remained silent, his eyes narrowed. "No." Oh....You decided not to press for more questions, not yet at least. You didn't want to ruin the night by bringing up touchy subjects.

Before you knew it, you were at his home. Kyotani knocked on the door, which was immediately answered by his mom and Killer, who was barking and jumping on you. "Oh, look at you Y/n! You look stunning! Doesn't she Kentaro?" His mom gushed. Kyotani nods. "Come on in! Dinner is just about ready!" You thanked her before stepping inside. At the table was a girl with black hair and the same yellow eyes as Kyotani sat. She wasn't really paying attention to anything or anyone, aside from her phone, which she tapped away on. "Natsuki, we have a guest. Put that thing down for once!" Her mom says as she walks to the stove. Natsuki sighs heavily and puts her phone down. "Hey." She mutters. "You my dumb little brother's girlfriend or something?" You and Kyotani's faces turn red.

"Shut your trap, Natsuki!" Kyotani growls. "She's way too pretty for you, mutt." She smirks. "I said shut it!"

"Both of you shut up!" Their mother yells. "Sorry about my two idiots Y/n." She smiles. You just wave it off. "Uh, don't worry about it." Kyotani and Natsuki's mother set down a very delicious meal on the table. Everyone sat down and gave thanks for the meal before digging in. "Wow. This is really good!" You say as you take another bite. Kaori smiles warmly. "I'm glad you like it. You should take some home for your family. I may have gotten carried away and made a little too much. I was just so surprised that my son brought over such a sweet and beautiful young lady!" Kyōtani grumbles a curse under his curse. Your face warmed up. "I'm kinda surprised myself." You admit.

"Same here. Ken has always been weird. Never thought girls would be interested in him." Natsuki says bluntly. "Tsk. And I never thought guys would be into you, guess I was right, huh?" Kyotani counters. The two siblings were caught in a glare off with each other. "I say cut it out, both of you!" Kaori hissed.

The rest of the night was filled with conversations about school, and marriage, much to Kyotani's dismay, and just causal convo. There were more compliments about how nice and cute you were from his mom, and some questions from his sister for you like "so how much did my brother pay you to hang out with him?". They had to be one of the most chaotic family you've met, but you did enjoy their company. It was getting late, time for you to head home. Once again, Kyotani walked you home. "Thanks again." You smile softly. "Yeah, sorry about my mom and sister. Must have been exhausting." You shook your head. "They were great. I had a really good time tonight. Make sure you get back home safe ok?" Kyotani nods. "See ya." He turned ad walked away.  You wave before walking inside your home. Your mother still wasn't home, you decided to head up stairs and catch up on your favorite anime.

While watching, your phone dinged. You looked down to see a text from Kyotani.

🐶Mad Puppy🐶 I had a good time too. Night

You smiled and texted back.

You Good night 😊

Previous | Next

[laddieseddiemunster]

Pros and Cons of Dating The Lost Boys (Separate)

David

david is definitely the jerk out of the boys, but he’s a good boyfriend. he’s a pretty easy person to talk to when you actually get to know him. he enjoys reading and telling stories and since he’s pretty old he has a lot of tales to tell. david knows all the cool spots in santa carla that have the best view of the whole city. he’ll take you there and let you talk or rant to him for hours. until the sun comes up of course. he’s not a very clingy or cuddly guy in public, but when you’re alone with him he’ll get a little cuddly. he’s not too into pda. not because he gets embarrassed. he’s just not that type of guy. unless a creepy guy starts eyeing you then david’s wrapping his arm around your shoulder, bringing you close to him, so that creep knows you’re taken. since david is the leader of the four boys, you are automatically treated differently. david always tells the others what to do, and since you’re his mate you can too. he had a ‘talk’ with the boys about that. basically just telling them to treat you with respect, and if they don’t, david has the last word in that. you can ask/tell the boys what to do since david allows it, and now it’s just your choice whether or not you decide to use that.

though he’s a great boyfriend, his asshole side comes out every now and then. he gets easily bothered with occasional mood swings. with that problem leads to fights. while fighting david tends to say a lot of things he doesn’t mean. it still hurts like hell though. he knows how to get under people’s skin and tends to use that skill. he regrets everything he says immediately, but he had a hard time admitting he was wrong. david hates having to apologize, even if he knows he was in the wrong. you’re usually the one that has to apologize first and then he will. if he makes you cry during a fight he’ll apologize right away. he hates seeing you cry especially if it’s because of him. unless you started the fight, then he’ll just let out a sigh and leave the room. david hates getting emotional around other people. anger is one thing but no one can see him sad. it makes him feel vulnerable and he can’t stand that feeling. if he ever gets emotional around you he’ll immediately leave the room and collect himself. it can get a bit irritating though. sometimes it could make you feel like he doesn’t trust you enough to show you his real emotions. he reassures you that that’s not the case. david loves you but he can’t let you see him like that.

Dwayne

quietest out of the boys + resting bitch face = very respectful boyfriend? apparently so.

since dwayne is pretty quiet, you were surprised when he made the first move. despite his intimidating appearance, he is actually really sweet. he’s never really had a serious girlfriend since he turned, but he tries his best to be as loving as possible. dwayne isn’t really a cuddly person in public, but when you’re alone with him he likes having you close to him. he didn’t realize how much he missed being held by someone he loved until he met you. it’s like he was missing a piece in his life and he found it when you met him. just for that it’s now a must for him to treat you like a queen. dwayne will take you all around the boardwalk, and win you some stuffed bears. he can’t help but grin whenever he sees you hold the stuffed animal close to you. he’s not much of a talker but he’s a great listener. he lets you talk to him for hours and he’ll pay attention to everything you’re saying. since laddie is like dwayne’s son/little brother, the little guy looked at you like a mother/sister. it’s your decision whether you decide to take on that role, but if you did dwayne would be at a loss for words. if he wasn’t in love with you before he sure is now.

believe it or not but dwayne does have a temper. after so many years of being a vampire, he’s developed some negative feelings inside. mainly insecurities and loneliness. he can’t exactly talk to his brothers about the way he feels so he just keeps it all bottled inside. it usually comes out when you two have a fight. he’s stressed and he hates seeing you mad at him, so it just explodes out of him. his reaction is usually like a toddlers temper tantrum. he’ll start to throw things and punch walls. he’d never lay a hand on you, but that doesn’t stop you from getting scared. if he notices your fear of him, he’ll feel worse then he did before. especially if you leave the cave and run home. he doesn’t have the energy to run after you since he’s so exhausted from his emotions. instead he’ll get on his motorcycle and drive somewhere where he knows he’ll be alone. then he’ll let out all his emotions that he’s keep in all those years. he’s good at hiding his sadness, but only for a certain amount of time. once dwayne is feeling a bit better he’ll ride over to your house. he can’t sleep knowing your upset with him. it might take some effort on his part, but he’ll do anything to get on your good side again. if you accept his apology then he’ll cuddle you all night. especially if he made you cry. if he did he’d feel like the worst boyfriend ever and whisper apologies in your ear while holding you tight. if you don’t accept his apology then he won’t know what to do. without you he might just loose himself.

Paul

does it surprise you that paul made the first move? probably not. he’s pretty confident and the biggest flirt out of all the boys. so when he catcalled you and tried to get you to go with him for the night, let’s just say it wasn’t the best first impression. okay okay, he’s a handful, but once you get to know him he’s actually really sweet. paul is a huge fan of hard rock and a little bit of everything so you’re going to know all kinds of music new or old. he’s really playful and will always try his best to keep a smile on your face at all times. he steals you a lot of stuff like jewelry and exspensive clothes just to spoil you. of course, he likes to get spoiled too. in more ways than one. he’s very very handsy. he won’t keep his hands off of you even at the boardwalk. pda? who cares! he sure doesn’t. paul tries his best to spend all the time he has with you at night. even if it means just watching you sleep. he just enjoys your presence even if you aren’t speaking to him. he’s a big jokester. he just wants to make you laugh. he’ll pour as many jokes as he can just to see that smile on your face. don’t be surprised if he throws in a less appropriate joke every now and then. and last but certainly not least, he has a pretty dirty mind. but, that shouldn’t be a surprise.

let’s be honest, sometimes paul is a dumbass. he doesn’t mean to be. he just doesn’t always think before he speaks. he’ll say the wrong thing at the wrong time and it could ruin your whole mood. the worst thing is is he doesn’t get why you’re so upset with him afterwards. it was just a joke right? instead of apologizing he justs starts acting moody right along with you. and there’s a 9/10 chance that that’ll lead to a fight. paul just doesn’t use his head sometimes so he just thinks you’re on your period or something. which is another wrong thing to say. since paul is pretty emotional himself, there’s a lot of yelling during fights. even if the fight was something minor. he just gets riled up really easily. he’d never hurt you, but sometimes his vampire face comes out during fights. he doesn’t mean for it to happen, but in the moment he’s just too upset to notice. if you get scared then he’ll notice. he’ll feel a bit guilty but he’s so into the fight that he’s still yelling. he hates fighting with you, but he just doesn’t know when to stop. if paul sees that you’re genuinely hurt then he’ll stop. he hates the feeling of knowing that he hurt you. even if he didn’t mean it. once he comes to his senses, he’ll apologize with a hug and a kiss on your forehead. and probably some make up sex afterwards.

Marko

he’s got the face of an angel, but the mind of the devil. marko is the least predictable of the boys, so you were surprised to see that this baby faced boy with curls could be a bloodsucker. all the other boys stick to one tactic which makes it easy to point out their actions. not marko. he could be chaotic one second and calm and collected the next. it’s definitely intimidating, but for you he keeps it to a minimum. the last thing marko wants to do is scare you. he just wants to have fun. he’d take you on all the roller coasters on the boardwalk, and tease you if you get scared. not as dirty minded as paul but he still is. pda? what’s that? he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks. if he wants to kiss you, he’ll kiss you. if he wants to hold he close, he’ll hold you from behind. if he wants to grab your ass, okay, he’ll make an exception and put his hand in your back pocket. marko is the biggest risk taker and will even do things that could possibly get him killed. but he’s a vamp so he can’t die all that easily right? if you still live with your parents he’s going to sneak in all the time. he doesn’t care if they’re there or not. he wants in he’ll find a way in. if you kick him out then he’ll whine and knock on your window until you let him back in.

like david, marko has mood swings. bad mood swings. he could go from his happy normal self to getting furious or something small. he could drop his food on the floor and he’s pissed for the whole night. every relationship has struggles and fights, but with marko it’s like a ticking time bomb. he could blow up any second. he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you, but he’s punching and destroying everything else. every now and then a fight starts and every one of them is different. sometimes it’s you yelling at him and he’s just staring at you like a brick wall. other times it’s him yelling over something stupid and you’re the brick wall. if you’re both yelling at each other than it usually ends bad. you two probably won’t talk for a couple days until one of you apologizes. if you were the cause then you’re gonna have to apologize and the same goes for him. if marko started the fight at first he’ll just mope around until he comes to his senses. he hates making you feel sad or angry so he’ll apologize after a short amount of time. marko can be a little protective sometimes. he doesn’t like anyone touching you even his brothers. especially paul. if some random dude starts flirting with you on the boardwalk marko is ready to kill him. his fight or flight attitude kicks in and he’ll start throwing punches immediately. god forbid if he’s in a bad mood and someone catcalls you. marko will skin them alive. literally.

[starrenorth]

Here comes a short description of my fic When kids grow up and a preview of chapter one:

The haikyuu boys have grown up into adults and are enjoying the family bliss with their teenage kids. However, it is well known that when teenagers start their journey into adulthood, life can turn quite chaotic and troublesome for everyone involved...

Chapters: 7/?

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Underage

Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou, Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi, Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu, Shimizu Kiyoko/Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei

Characters: Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Tooru, Akaashi Keiji, Bokuto Koutarou, Kozume Kenma, Kuroo Tetsurou, Sawamura Daichi, Sugawara Koushi, Miya Atsumu, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu, Suna Rintarou, Tendou Satori, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Hinata Shouyou, Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Azumane Asahi, Nishinoya Yuu, Terushima Yuuji, Hanamaki Takahiro, Matsukawa Issei

Additional Tags: Family, Family Fluff, Family Drama, Parenthood, Post-Time Skip, Family Dynamics, Teen Angst, Teenage Drama, Rival Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Established Relationship, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Language, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Parents, Marriage, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Married Couple, Married Life, Teenagers, Teen Romance

Series: Part 1 of the chaotic life of the Haikyuu boys and their teenage kids.

Chapter 1 - summary: 

- Iwaizumi Eiko is secretly dating Ushijima Ryouta, the son of her father´s most despised rival, behind her fathers' backs.

Eiko couldn’t help but admire how cute her boyfriend looked where he sat moping. She crawled over to him and took his face in her hands. “Ushiiii” she cooed again, nudging his nose playfully with hers. “Pleeease?” And when she placed a kiss at the corner of his mouth, his resistance melted away quicker than snow on a hot day. And before she knew it, he was laying on top of her, their lips pressed together.

“You´re so damn beautiful, you know that?” Ryouta murmured, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh I know,” Eiko answered shamelessly.

An amused chuckle found its way out of Ryouta´s throat. “No need for me to say it then it seems.”

Smiling, she tilted her head and blinked innocently at him with her lashes. “What? Did you expect me to argue against you? Thank you for stating the obvious?”

Laughing, Ryouta gazed down at Eiko in complete awe. “So this is what you get for trying to show your girlfriend some appreciation. Remind me to never try and compliment you again.”

She smirked. “Don´t get me wrong – I appreciate your sweet words. I´m just reminding you that I do not need them to know that I´m fucking gorgeous.”

“Wow princess. You have rendered me speechless.”

“In the words of my sometimes very wise father: ´Never let anyone but yourself determine your worth, especially if that person is an Ushijima´.”

“Very wise indeed,” Ryouta chimed in cheekily. “And has he said anything about dating one then?”

Eiko grinned sheepishly at him, eyes sparkling mischievously. “No. But I´m pretty confident in what he would say.

“You know princess, judging by that expression of yours, I´d almost dare say that you´re only using me so you can piss off your father the day he gets on your nerves,” he said smirking.

“My father gets on my nerves often. And when he does, I simply tell him that I´m considering transferring to Shiratorisawa and he will ignore me for a whole day. So there´s really no need for me to tell him about you…yet anyways.”

“And when will you?” he asked jokingly, but the sincerity in his question shone through nonetheless. This was not the first time he had brought it up.

“Tell me Ryo, do you have a death wish or something?” Eiko laughed half-nervously. “Or do you just want to make it official so you can brag to your father that you managed to secure an Oikawa?”

Knowing that this conversation wouldn’t lead anywhere, Ryouta just gave Eiko a lazy smile and continued to kiss her. But when the sound of a door suddenly being slammed open rumbled through the house, they both froze.

“Shit!” Eiko swore through clenched teeth as the distant bickering of two familiar male voices reached their ears.  She quickly pushed Ryota off her. “My dads. You need to get out!”

“Get out?! But my shoes are downstairs.”

“That is the least of your concern right now!” she spat out. “I´ll bring them to school tomorrow.”

“Are you fucking kidding me!?”

“No, get out before my father storms in here.”

“Doesn’t he knock? Can´t you just tell him not to walk in? That you’ll be down in a second?”

“You clearly don’t know my father very well.”

“And who´s fault is that?” he said, narrowing his eyebrows accusingly at her.

“We´re not having this conversation now. Hurry up and get out before he finds us in here and kills us both!”

“But how?!”

“Through the window.”

He glared at her discontentedly, eyebrows raised high in his forehead. “The window? Really Eiko?”

Panic rose in Eiko´s chest as the humming sound from her father closed in as he ascended the stairs.

“Yes, the window! Are you deaf Ushiwaka? Get out!”

Ryouta gave her a displeased look but realized that this wasn’t the right time to argue.

“You owe me for this Princess,” Ryouta said as she roughly heaved him out on the roof.

“Yeah yeah,” she agreed before quickly shutting the window after him. The moment after her door shot open with a loud bang.

“Yoohooo! Guess who´s back home! and we brought dinner!”

Her father, Iwaizumi Tooru, former Oikawa, stood in the opening with two plastic bags in either hand and a big smile on his face.

“I thought you were going to eat out tonight?” Eiko said trying not to sound as if her heart was about to jump out of her chest.

“We were,” her father´s mirthful voice rang. He put his hand behind his head and grinned sheepishly. “But I may have mixed up the dates, so your dad is not very happy with me right now. And sure, I can understand why he would be upset, but you should have heard the rude things he said to me! And he continued to lecture me all the way home – even after we had picked up food at Momoya´s instead, which If you ask me is better anyways.”

Eiko had no problem at all imagining the words her father Hajime must have used. After all these years, she had probably heard them all. “Sounds well-deserved if you ask me. Dad had been looking forward to that date you know.”

“Ei-chan! And here I thought that you, my sweet and perfect daughter would take my side. But you´re just as cold-hearted and judgmental as your father.” He answered with a pout.

Eiko stared at her father and shook her head in disbelief at how a man of forty-five could act so childish. Probably because he still denied the fact that he was growing old, arguing that he was `no more than twenty-five in mind. ´ More like fifteen if you asked her. But to be perfectly honest, more often than less she enjoyed her father´s youthful spirit. Because although he could be a bit overbearing at times, there was nothing she couldn’t talk to him about. Or well, almost at least – Ryouta was the exception to the rule, but for obvious reasons. There was no other man that his father despised as much as Ushijima Wakatoshi, so she knew that he would not take the news about her and Ryouta dating well. Which was stupid, because besides his physique and talent for volleyball Ryouta was nothing like his stoic and blunt father Wakatoshi.

Thinking about her boyfriend, Eiko´s thoughts wandered back to the fact that she actually had forced him out of her window. And she suddenly felt incredibly annoyed with her father. Had he known some boundaries, Ryouta could have hidden in her room until they had gone to bed, but no. He had just stormed into her room like a pompous king with no regard of what she might have been doing.

“Hey Ei-chan, what´s up with that cross look on your face right now? You will get wrinkles like Iwa-chan if you keep furrowing your eyebrows like that. And that´s not cute at all. Although, your dad is still the second most handsome man in the world, after me of course.”

Normally, Eiko didn’t mind her father´s presumptuous comments, mostly because her own utterances tended to have a similar nature, but right now – already stressed and irritated – she couldn’t help her annoyance from spilling out: “Have you ever thought about knocking papi?”

“Knocking?” he asked, eyebrows raised in both surprise and confusion before his face formed an amused expression. “Tell me Ei-chan, why would you suddenly want me to knock? Got something you wish to hide from me?” he added with a wink.

She crossed her arms defiantly. “No, but some privacy would be nice once in a while.”

Tooru´s eyes narrowed slightly at that and when he eyed her suspiciously Eiko remembered just how intimidating her otherwise childish father could be. “Privacy you say…so there is something you´re trying to hi-”

Luckily for Eiko, her father did not have the time to finish his sentence before a darker and rougher voice cut him off: “Oi, are you bullying my daughter again shittykawa?” Her father Iwaizumi Hajime appeared in the doorway; a small grin visible on his face.

[salenakingston]

Mystery March Day 20 - The Future

(Today’s prompt is very special. Today’s actually my wedding day! So how could I not do something wedding themed for today? I’ve done this one in a similar format I did for Dream. I hope you all have an amazing day, and I’ll see you tomorrow!)

It’s about time.

Whenever it came to Vivi and Lewis, those three words could be applied to a multitude of things. It was about time the two friends that spent months dancing around each other finally took the next step in their relationship. It was about time when they reconciled once the gang got back together. It was about time their flame was rekindled. And finally, it was about time they went through with making their union official.

Did it matter that Lewis was now a ghost and couldn’t really give Vivi as much as he would in life? Of course not. In fact, he would argue she had grown more starry eyed over having a supernatural partner. There would be complications, but nothing the pair weren’t willing to put all their love into making work.

And he couldn’t help but be happy for the two of them. It had been a long time coming.

I'm worried 'bout the future, future

Ain't fuckin' with that past shit baby

I'm worried 'bout the future, future, future, future

It did make him think about both the years to come, as well as looking back on the past.

Looking back was dismal. Sure, he could point back to all the good times the three of them shared, but it was marred by everything that once tore them apart. Arthur’s feelings he kept to himself, the leading cause that brought Lewis to his death. Those the others did everything to put the blame on anything but him, it was something he would never let go. He had a part to play, and to gloss over such a thing would be foolish. As Mystery had once put it, if they didn’t learn from what happened to them, something was going to happen again. Their past was a lesson, one all of them had grown from in a way. Granted, he probably took the longest, as he wasn’t always the best when it came to opening up to the two most important people in his life, but to his credit, he had gotten better.

No one could predict what would come of their future. There were many hypotheticals, so many possibilities. One thing was certain, nothing was going to break these two apart. Not anymore.

Ain't got no money for the nice things

I barely got enough for rent

Ain't got no clue 'bout where I'm going

Ain't making dollars

But at least I'm making sense

It had been a smart choice on both parties to ensure that not only was this ceremony small, but consisted only of family. Anyone outside that group would have made things… complicated. There was only so much Lewis was able to do in order to disguise himself in front of others, which usually came with a pair of sunglasses. To anyone else, it might seem a bit odd to have them be included in his outfit. The only person outside those that knew the man’s secret was the officiant.

And even that one person didn’t have to stay the entire time. Once the ceremony was over, they would be on their way. Then the groom could be free to be his true self. By now everyone else was in on the whole thing. It took longer than most, but the Peppers were overjoyed to have their son back, even if from beyond the grave.

Vivi’s family seemed suspicious, especially when Mystery’s true nature came to light. Oddly, the one least surprised was the bluenette’s grandmother. He wasn’t sure if there was a reason for that, and for someone as small as she was, she was certainly intimidating. Perhaps it was best he didn’t even try touching that subject.

And his uncle Lance, well, he seemed to be taking everything in stride. He imagined the older man would have been on the same level as Vivi’s family were it not for the fact he had been present the night all of them finally came together again. He never did understand their dynamic, but was just glad his nephew had those special in his life. So long he had spent alone, and neither Kingsmen could imagine being reverted back to a time before Tempo.

Neither bride or groom went for anything too flashy. That had never been the most important part. All that mattered was the two of them.

Don't need no cash, it ain't got no soul

Don't need the flesh, just want control

Never grown enough, you know it's just the way I do it

I want the gold

I ain't no sucker, baby

And when you least expect it

I'll be coming for ya

The ceremony was beautiful, but damn what higher being there might be if it didn’t turn out to be a little chaotic. Being that there was only family present, there weren’t as many bodies for the traditional sort of stand in. Of course Lewis wasn't hesitant to ask him to be the best man, but it was a lot more hectic on Vivi’s end. The only stand-ins for her would be Lewis’ sisters, and each one of them were, at least at first, trying to clamor for a chance to be the one standing up there with the three friends.

Eventually it was settled that all three of them could be on her side, which made for an interesting procession.

Everything from there seemed to follow a traditional format. When it came time for the vows, it was almost predictable the groom would say the sappiest things. He poured his heart out to her, and as a demonstration of his love, passed her the locket he wore. There wasn’t a day he didn’t have that showing, the excuse being it was a glowing locket given to him by someone special. Everyone bought it.

Her hands wrapped around the heart, and then it came her turn.

In typical Vivi fashion, there was no way to hide the enthusiasm she shared with everyone around her. He could see her struggling, if only not to bring up the fact that her soon to be husband wasn’t really alive. Then again, if there was anything that came from reading all the time, it was her clever use of word play. Arthur found himself chuckling mentally a couple times through the whole thing.

“Til death do us part.”

Quite, though he was sure if the bluenette died, she’d find a way to come back as a ghost too.

“Til acceptance do us part.”

I'm worried 'bout the future

Ain't fuckin' with the past

Everyone filed out, the ceremony coming to a close.

Vivi and Lewis walked arm in arm, the latter nearly taking off into the air with excitement, taking his new wife with him.

Arthur watched from the distance, a smile he held since the very beginning faltering.

Ain't got no time to waste on bullshit

You know I gotta keep my head on straight

'Cause at the rate the times keep changing

I don't really care about second place

Lance placed himself at his nephew’s side, now two sets of eyes falling on the newlyweds. Their focus rarely left one another, content to bask in the joy that was their union. He spotted the smile fall. It was hard not to look at your two best friends in the world, knowing they had so many years together in the comfort of one another. Where did that leave him? Well, he wouldn’t be a third wheel anymore, but there was that worry again.

He couldn’t possibly insert himself into their lives whenever he wanted. Would they seek to push him out now? They hadn’t before, why would they now?

He felt a hand along his shoulder, amber gaze bringing his uncle into focus. He didn’t turn his gaze to meet Arthur when he spoke, “What’s eatin’ at ya kid?”

“What? Nothing Uncle Lance.”

The gruff man only raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced by that answer. It seemed no one would believe it coming from Arthur. Not his friends, and now not even his own family. Something always seemed to bother him, and no one would settle for him bottling it up. Before he could come up with something to say, the older one spoke again, “Are you upset?”

“No, that’s not it Uncle Lance. I’m overjoyed for them. I just…” he sighed, looking back to the happy couple as they embraced, “I don’t want to be forgotten again.”

“Geez, fur bein’ best friends, ya can be so thick sometimes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Have a little more faith in ‘em.”

With that, his uncle left the blonde to himself, heading over to mingle with the other adults. Arthur’s gaze drifted to the side. A little more faith.

Don't need no cash, it ain't got no soul

Don't need the flesh, just want control

Never grown enough, you know it's just the way I do it

I want the gold

I ain't no sucker, baby

And when you least expect it

I'll be coming for ya

The night went on as normal, and soon enough, it was just the three of them, alone. All families had gone home for one reason or another. Really the only one that seemed to have a good excuse were the Peppers since Lewis’ sister were still young. They probably had a set bedtime, one that couldn’t be broken. They spent what remained of their time talking, just like they always did.

It was nice, but even they would have to get home soon enough.

Arthur pushed himself up to head to the van, offering the lovebirds a ride home. Vivi was quick to grab him by his right wrist, ensuring he felt it. His head spun around, looking at her. Confusion washed over his face as she pulled him back down to sitting with them. Lewis and Vivi exchanged glances before the ghost pulled a small box out.

When it popped open, there was a simple, golden ring resting inside. He looked between his friends and the ring, “I don’t understand.”

Their smiles softened, Lewis pulling his hand close and Vivi slipping the ring onto his finger. His face felt a little hotter, but his confusion just deepened. What was the point of all this? When the ghost released his hands, his eyes didn’t seem to focus on anything but that ring. The bluenette gave a small laugh at his reaction, but tried to clear it up, “It’s our gift to you.”

“To me?”

Lewis came next, “Our biggest mistake was making you feel unwanted, or that you had no business being with us so long as we were together.”

“So, this is our way of showing we don’t want you to leave. Anytime you start feeling like you’ve been left out, you look at that ring. We’re all stuck together until the end. Are you with us Artie?”

He didn’t say anything at first.

Lewis piped up when the silence continued to stretch on, “What do you say Artie?”

Finally his smile returned, “You two don’t even have to ask. I couldn’t imagine going on without you two.”

I'm worried 'bout the future

Ain't fuckin' with the past

Arthur sat in bed once he got home, holding his hand out in front of him to marvel at the gift his two friends gave him, on the most important day of their lives. Have a little more faith in them. He had far more than just a little.

He wasn’t sure what the future might hold for them, but it was far brighter now than it ever was before.

[eraserrhead]

List of BNHA Fics That You Should Read

a twisted fate never alters destiny - Big brother Aizawa who gets adopted by Inko during his high school years. Lots of manga spoilers but sticks pretty well to a lot of canon elements. 100k, incomplete.

hero’s shadow - Vigilante Izuku who gets unofficially adopted by like 4 different dads. Very chaotic and has a decent amount of angst. Sensitive topics covered too but has warnings in chapter notes. 179k, incomplete.

A deadman’s gun - Stain takes in Izuku to train him. Vigilante Izuku. LOTS of angst. 65k, complete.

Lavandula Somnambulist - Izuku is Midnight’s biological son (and very pretty). So far fic is about Izuku trying to get into the hero course through the sports festival with a quirk very similar to Midnight’s but with a few other elements. 33k, incomplete

Throw A Chair Through A Window And Call It A Day - Fairly new fic but SO well-written. Nedzu leaves town for Official Business and hands the school over to Aizawa for a week. Aizawa makes Izuku his secretary. Izuku is crazy smart and Aizawa goes full chaos dad mode. 47k, incomplete but updates pretty frequently (about once a week I think?). 

The Capture Scarf Caper - Super new fic (like 10 days old new) but so far it’s really well-written so I’m adding it anyway. Quirkless Izuku finds a capture weapon after Eraserhead accidentally leaves it in an alleyway after a fight. Proceeds to think “.... This could be a quirk.” 9k, incomplete. 

Viridian: The Green Guide - Make sure to read the tags on this one for warnings. Vigilante Izuku (but technically not) becoming the local hero’s mascot. Dadzawa. One of my fav fics. 79k, incomplete.

throw me a goddamn rope - just enough to hang myself with - Aizawa goes back in time after the future is Super Fucked Up. Accidentally meets Izuku and Inko and is dragged into their family by the scruff of his neck like a disgruntled cat. Some dark topics so read the fic tags. 63k, incomplete.

I Never Told You What I Do For A Living - Izuku has a Death Note quirk. The villains kidnap him for this quirk and use a collar that forces him to follow their rules/orders. He has to find loopholes in those rules to try and alert the heroes all while playing a double role as a detective trying to crack the case of the mysterious murders he’s committing. Lots of angst. 52k, incomplete.

Izuku Eats His Problems - Izuku is a flerken (like Goose from Captain Marvel). He had to hide his species in fear of discrimination his whole life and has no McFucking idea how to control his powers. One of my fav fics. Pretty heavy shindeku so if you don’t like that ship you probably won’t like the fic, as a warning. 173k, incomplete.

Complicated Creation - Quirks are the work of magic spirits. Izuku is pretty much the only one who can see and interact with these spirits. Everyone thinks he’s lost his mind. 112k, complete.

Powerless - Crossover with the DC Universe. Batman finds a nervous quirkless Izuku and decides “yes. this is my new son” and trains him to kick ass without a quirk. Not much knowledge about the DCU required because it’s explained but better if you know at least a bit. 163k, incomplete.

did i even make a sound? - Izuku asks Present Mic for help to train his quirk and Present Mic accepts because he sees himself in Izuku. 30k, incomplete.

BREAKING NEWS: Actions Speak Louder Than Words - Izuku never goes to UA and instead starts a blog to reveal hero’s scandals. Heroes aren’t a big fan of this. 31k, incomplete. 

Apex Predator - Izuku enters UA expecting it to be like his prior school experiences. He hates bullies so he establishes himself as the “apex predator” of UA to prevent bullies from picking on those weaker than them. Then proceeds to have no idea that people are intimidated by him. 82k, incomplete.

Problem Child - Aizawa and Izuku both die. Somehow this isn’t the end and Aizawa is reincarnated as Izuku. 21k, complete (I think there’s gonna be a second part tho)

Sky’s The Limit - Izuku discovers his quirk through a suicide attempt and turns into a bird. He’s pretty much chill with being a bird. Dadzawa. 15k, incomplete.

The highest achievement - God fucks off somewhere so the angels look at Izuku and go “yeah, good enough” and give him god powers. Izuku goes “yeah alright” and proceeds to cause chaos. 24k, incomplete.

With Great Power - AFO takes over Japan. Then immediately retires and hands the entirety of Japan and its government over to Deku. Deku has no idea what he’s doing and has to try and reform the Japanese government, the hero system, and all of it’s laws. 54k, complete.

Class 1A’s Misadventures as Vigilante Influencers - Class 1A realizes that the hero system is corrupt and some heroes can get away with anything. To save someone with their life on the line, they go rogue. Two parts before this fic to get the full story but this is the longest one so I’m linking it. 29k, incomplete.

[babbushka]

Beautiful, Beloved (4/8)

You had met three times: The first, an introduction. The second, a lunch. The third, your wedding. Can bonds be made in such short a time as a week long honeymoon aboard the immensely impressive RMS Titanic?

Yes, yes they can.

Titanic!AU Millionaire Kylo Ren x Reader

7.2k ; Warnings: Mild NSFW, mostly fluff and humor

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

He scowled all the way to the cabins, but you tried to pay it no mind. Kylo seemed like the type of man that scowling came naturally to. His hold on your arm was light enough, and his pace was not unusually quick, so you chalked it up to a simple resting expression of intimidation and not any sour mood.

Although he would have good reason to be sour, you thought to yourself as he led you away from the decks of the ship and into the safety of the interior. Such a chaotic beginning to the honeymoon, surely he would be angry with the poor fortune. Such a start didn’t bode well, although you were determined to put the events behind you.

You tried your best to ignore the sights around you, knowing that there would come a time for great admiration of the furnishings of the ship. As it were, too many passengers were gawking and staring and pointing at the surroundings, and you wanted to escape their gasps and murmurs. People clogged the hallways, not walking in an orderly fashion, stopping abruptly right in your path, making you want nothing more than to simply get to your cabin and unwind.

Kylo, ever the mind-reader, cut a path through the crowd like nothing else could. Dopheld and Rose had disappeared to go alert some staff as to your whereabouts for the luggage to be directed, with the promise to meet again in the cabin soon.

In a cheeky manner, Kylo covered your eyes when you arrived in front of the door to your suite. You felt a bubble of joy light up inside you at the thought of getting a moment to lie down, a moment to simply breathe, all alone with your husband.

“Here we are, cabin B-52.” He whispered, uncovering your eyes and giving you a moment to take in the sights.

Kylo opened the door for you, and despite the finery that you were accustomed to, you nearly dropped your jaw with the sight. Why, it had to be one of the most opulent parlor suites aboard the Titanic. Completely decorated in a Regency style, you felt as though you were stepping back in time, stepping a hundred or so years into the decadence of the past.

“Oh, goodness it’s – ” You were at a loss for words, something that wasn’t really all that familiar of a feeling for you. You were used to having something to say about everything, but even the sitting room alone rendered you speechless.  

Or at least, the room which you entered immediately looked to be a sitting room. You weren’t sure if the ship gave it an alternative title. Two port-hole windows were beautifully framed by cream colored curtains, embroidered with floral motifs, and the sunshine from the sea beyond cast the furnishings in an ethereal golden haze. The walls were a highly lacquered deep brown wood of a warm tone, wood paneling which was adorned by 24 carat gold-gilded accents which were reflected in the fabrics which covered the filigree carpeting.

Against the far wall was a beautiful mantle, where a fire could be lit if it got too chilly during the evenings. It was going to be a cold Spring, and you’d be passing through colder waters, so you looked forward to the idea of sitting by the fire with your husband, maybe stealing a kiss or two.

There was a round table surrounded by velvet cushioned chairs, many more chairs than you could all occupy at once. Such a sitting room was meant to be entertained, and you thought that perhaps over the course of your trip to New York, you might meet some new friends which you could invite back for a game of cards or perhaps tea.

“Do you like it?” Kylo asked, that scowl of his tipping further and further, not sure how to read your silence, as if he’d personally punish the architects and designers of the rooms for displeasing you.

You whirled around to face him, the skirt of your dress swishing from the excitement as you offered a wide grin to your husband to show your feelings which you couldn’t put into words.

“It’s breathtaking!” You settled upon, because that at least was the truth, that was something that couldn’t be denied. You walked further into the sitting room, ran your fingers across the wood paneling, admiring the electric lamps which sparkled crystalline, “Can you believe this is on a boat? All this finery?”

“Only the very best for you, only the very best that I can give, I’ll give to you.” Kylo smiled, relived that you were pleased.

How could you not be? How could you be anything other than incredibly grateful, to have a husband who knew next to nothing about you, and yet wanted to shower you in luxury? You knew other women, women who were not so fortunate, women who were almost shunned entirely by their husbands, who were treated with neglect and even on some occasions abuse, who had nothing more wanted from them than a son.

And they called Kylo a monster -- how could people be so cruel?

“You’re terribly generous, I’m not so sure what I can offer in return.” You reached for his hand, suddenly feeling the weight of his wealth and wondering just why he felt the need to share it with you. Even a son didn’t feel a fair trade, for all the things he has bestowed upon you in the very short time you’ve known one another.

And oh, the way he looked at you, the way his eyes softened at the sadness in your tone. It was enough to break your heart, the way he grew confused at your apprehension.

“Your companionship is enough, truly.” He said, as if you must know that, as if it were obvious that you were the treasure here, as if you were the gift.

You didn’t know what to say to that either, but he didn’t give you an opportunity to respond, simply taking your hand and leading you into the bedroom.

Dopheld and Rose arrived then, remaining in the sitting room and began directing staff on the ship where to place your many trunks and things of luggage. You were glad for their assistance, and hoped that the servant’s quarters where they would be staying were even half as nice as the bedroom.

Like the sitting room, it wasn’t the most large room you had ever seen, but that was to be expected. This was no sprawling estate out in the countryside, this was a ship, and you were certain such matters needed to be taken into account. But what it lacked in size it made up for in opulence, just as the sitting room had.

The bed was large enough exactly for you and him, it would seem, and it was tucked against one of the walls. Where the sitting room had been deep rich reddish browns and golds, the bedroom was a wash of light ivory and a silvery lavender. The walls were covered in a satin wallpaper of a beautiful French regency design, matching the design of the carpeting in the sitting room, and the light bouncing off that silvery quality transferred into the air, making it seem like something out of a dream.

There was another table in the room, however there were exactly enough chairs for two people to share an intimate moment together, the table just large enough to perhaps hold hands across it. There was a chaise lounge covered in a deep red velvet which matched the colors of the comforters on the bed, and the ceiling was a sculpted ivory that matched the sheets.  

You boldly sat down on the bed, ran your hands through the soft plushness of the comforter which was lovingly tucked under the pillows, watched as your fingers drew patterns in the fabric.

“Shall we remain here for a while?” You asked, feeling suddenly anxious, feeling as though there was so much to see, so much to do. If the bedroom was this nice, how nice could the rest of the ship possibly be? The possibilities made your heart beat ever so quicker while you hinted, “Or would you like to explore the ship for some time? There’s so much to see, I fear we may not get to all of it before the trip is through.”

Kylo picked up your hints, and he smiled, nodded enough to let you know he knew what you were doing. He approached you, sat down next to you on the bed, took your hand between his own and pressed your knuckles to his lips.

“Whatever you are in the mood for blossom, I am at your disposal entirely.” Kylo said softly, voice so deep, so deep that it resonated through your corset straight to your very bones. You could feel his voice bouncing around in there, settling, making a home in your chest.

You found you loved the feeling, never wanted it to go away. No one had ever called you blossom before, you thought to yourself with a smile.

“Careful Kylo,” You said, watching as he traced gentle patterns onto the back of your hand with his large thumb, “Or you’ll find that I’ll want to be around you all the time.”

“There are worse things.” Kylo whispered, his hand coming up to press the tips of his fingers against the soft skin of your cheek.

“Walk with me? If I stay here with you I’ll never leave this bed.” You covered his hand with your own, reveling in the feeling of his touch upon your face. His hand was warm and only the smallest bit sweaty, endearing.

Kylo blushed, and nodded, with the promise that there would be much fun to be had in the bed in the evening to come.

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

The sunshine on your face elicited a great sigh of happiness from your lips, as you leaned slightly against one of the grand windows of the promenade. How ingenious to have the long walkway covered, to have it closed off. You were certain that should it simply be an open deck, men’s hats and women’s shawls would simply be whisked away into the ocean.

And oh what a monument it was -- the ocean! How it glittered sapphire underneath the late afternoon sun. Golden ripples of light shimmered in the distance, cut through only by the black silhouette of a seagull’s wings. You and Kylo walked down the promenade, both preening under the approving gazes of the other passengers.

It was a luxury to even be here, up on the promenade. A private access for first class passengers only, and my, were you and Kylo among some of the more wealthy and notable pairs that had graced the polished and waxed deck floors.

Still, it was important to impress, important to make your presence known.

And impress you did with your outfits. You’d both be changing for dinner of course, changing into much finer fabrics and cuts of cloth, but for this stroll in the beautiful weather you elected to don a more casual look.

Kylo had changed into a handsomely tailored three-piece lightweight tweed suit in a cream color so unlike the rich blacks you had seen him in before. He wore a striped button-down shirt underneath his vest, the stripes a light red color that matched your dress wonderfully. To shield the sun from his eyes, he sported the very fashionable straw boater hat, which did the marvelous job of making his ears stick out slightly.

You wore a very elegant walking suit of a sort of pinky coral color. It was made of gorgeous blend of cotton and linen that helped keep you cool in the sun, despite the high-necked lace blouse that you wore underneath the jacket. The jacket was tailored specifically to your measurements with smartly placed darts, and was secured with hand embroidered buttons in a matching coral fabric.

You were the only one on the promenade wearing such a color, and you found yourself blooming under the attention. Your wide-brimmed hat was decorated with beautiful ostrich feathers dyed a matching color, and your shoes were a matching satin. It was an ensemble that would be seen across the ship, that was for sure.

You took one last breath of the fresh salty air, and returned to Kylo’s waiting arm. He had been observant mostly on the stroll from the suite to the promenade, and he was observant still, sparing a glance to some wealthy reclining passengers.

“It might be prudent for us to rent a set of chaises and rugs, what do you say?” Kylo asked you, nodding in the direction of those who were all poised to lounge and people-watch.

The promenade was a long fifty-foot walkway, and there were expertly woven wicker chairs and tables set up alongside the more shaded wall. People enjoyed cups of tea and newspaper clippings as they reclined and people-watched. He gave a protective squeeze of your hand as those people people-watched you.

“Hmm, there are so many opportunities to sit aboard the ship, I’d prefer being arm and arm with you just as we are now, as we walk.” You said after a moment’s thought. The chaises looked very comfortable, but there were a hundred places to be comfortable on the Titanic it would seem.

No, you thought to yourself, better to stretch your legs and get your exercise now while you could, before the two of you decided to indulge in one another and possibly never leave the suite.

“May I ask you a question?” Kylo asked, voice so soft that the sheer shyness of it broke you out of your inner monologue.

“No.” You teased, eyes sparkling with mirth as you gently nudged his hip with your own, your feet carrying you slowly and leisurely down the deck.

“Had this not been arranged by our families, would you have agreed to this?” Kylo wondered aloud, with no small amount of tremor to his voice. He waved his hand about, gesturing with his whole body in that way that you were coming to really find endearing. “To me, I mean. I know there were other suitors.”

You smiled, ducked your head as far as your carefully balanced hat would allow. You didn’t want to seem so infatuated with him already, so soon – but you couldn’t deny that you were. You were so fond of him, and these questions of his would only endear you further to him.

“There were a great deal many other suitors, you’re right.” You nodded with a bit of a huffed laugh, thinking of the clamor that came about with the courting seasons, all those letters from adoring men you were so reluctant to respond to. “There could have been a thousand other suitors, and I would have still picked you.”

Kylo’s step faltered for a moment, and you wondered if his palms were sweating beneath his gloves.

“I don’t mean to give off a sense of false modesty, I am merely curious as to why. What is so compelling about me?” He pressed, frowning, as if it were some great mystery.

“Well, it’s just that, isn’t it? You’re compelling.” You said, encouraging him to press himself to your side once more, the sound of waves gently crashing in the distance a symphony to your ears. “The day we met for tea, I found I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. You’re captivating -- the way you speak and interact with the world, the ideas you have. I may not know much of them, but the little I do know is far and away more interesting than the lot of the other suitors combined.”

“Hm.” Was all your eloquent husband had to offer, but you took it more of a sign of him allowing you to continue speaking, rather than a true response.

“I didn’t want a husband who would treat me as a decoration. I didn’t want to be put on a shelf, confined to some archaic idea of what wives should be. I wanted someone who would be willing to challenge that establishment, to look at me and not see just some means for an heir, but a person of substance.” You explained with a sigh, letting some of your lingering fears about marriage out.

“There’s no one more challenging than me, that’s true.” Kylo quirked a little grin, prompting you to smile so widely that your cheeks hurt.

You were glad to know that this man, with all his faults, would do right by you.

“Good, it will do well for us both to keep the other sharp.” You bumped his hip with yours once more, and he lunged at you, captured your face in one of his gloved hands and kissed you outright, right in front of everyone on the promenade.

You laughed against his lips, pushed him away playfully because such a display would surely spark gossip, but you held him close to your side anyway.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, glad for the angling of your hat to allow it, and sighed happily, “I trust you to treat me with respect, you know.”

“Why’s that?” Kylo teased.

“Because you’ve killed others for not showing you that same decency.” You replied lightly, once again stunning him with your response.

This time, he did not slow his step, but you could practically feel the way his heartbeat jumped and danced below his skin, pulse going wild at the very mention of his patricide.  

“You are not deterred by the fact that I am a murderer?” He asked. You were worried he’d be angry, but there’s a playful lightness to his tone that had you chuckling and only hugging his strong bicep.

“If I were, I wouldn’t have married one.” You said before shrugging, “I think murder can be a justifiable crime, sometimes it’s the only option we have to get what we want.”

Kylo pulled you to the side of the promenade to allow others to walk past. He leaned handsomely against another one of the large open windows that you had begun this walk smiling into. He didn’t smile, he was deadly serious as he took your hand in his own, ran his thumb across the knuckles.  

“I’d kill for you, if it meant giving you what you want.” He said sincerely, and you smiled, cupped his scarred cheek, showed him you weren’t afraid.

“I know darling, let’s hope you won’t have to.” You said back, about to lean in when --

“Tea ma’am?” A voice interrupted you.

You and Kylo turned towards the waiter, holding a silver tray that had practically anything one could require for a cup. Your stomach rumbled at the sight of the finger sandwiches, and you found that you weren’t so annoyed with the intrusion.

“Oh yes please, Kylo would you like some?” You nodded, and the boy set the tray down and began to fix you a cup, pouring tea into fine china.

“No thank you.” Your husband responded, stealing a kiss on your cheek anyway, “I’ll save my appetite for dinner.”

The waiter handed you the teacup and saucer to rest it on, and then disappeared, recognizing the scowl on Kylo’s face from the many years of being snapped out to scurry away. Kylo didn’t snap, but he didn’t have to.

You joined him in leaning against the window, sipping your tea. You could feel Kylo’s eyes on you as you squinted into the sunlight.

“When was the last time you were on a ship?” You were curious, for he seemed so unfazed by the wonder of it all.

“Sailing back from Africa.” He replied simply, and oh, you knew what that meant.

“Does it bring a sense of unease, to be back on the open waters again?” You asked, suddenly feeling guilty, worrying that perhaps he wasn’t enjoying himself, plagued with memories of battle.

“Not at all, this is much different from a warship. In fact, I don’t think it could be any more different.” Kylo smiled reassuringly, setting you calm once again.

“How so?” You asked behind your cup, and you swore you saw a blush creep across the strong bridge of his nose.

“Well, for one thing warships don’t have beautiful women sipping tea in day-dresses.” He said, making you laugh from the sheer force of his charm.

“You think I’m beautiful?” You playfully batted your lashes at him, and he rolled his eyes, stole another kiss to your cheek, as the sun shone on the ocean, shone on your skin.

“I think you’re radiant.” He clarified, and well, now it was your turn to blush.

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

You stayed out in the sunshine until the tea no longer kept you satisfied, until your stomach protested so loudly that it must have been dinner time. A bugle was sounded, something that had startled you and Kylo out there on the promenade, making you smile at one another in your startled fear. He informed you that it meant cocktails were being served in the reception room, so that’s where the two of you went.

You recognized the reception room from your entrance through the D-deck doors, past the grand staircase. It was Jacobean in style, a large open ballroom peppered with circular tables and ­­­wicker chairs which were upholstered in a lush green damask silk. The walls were glossy white, and there were potted ferns and palms which only added to the fine greenery of the space.  

You could see the area where an orchestra was likely to set up soon, a marked off area where instruments lay waiting musicians to bring them to life. You hoped that perhaps Kylo would be in the mood for a dance or two once dinner had settled.

You were just about to say something, when your husband’s attention was captured by a shock of red hair, and the natural scowl on his face all but disappeared, melting into a warm expression that could only be described as that of seeing an old friend.

The red-headed man seemed to notice you and Kylo at nearly the same time, and soon he was interrupting his wife’s conversation to gesture to you. Your heart soared at the sight of the woman, for while this man was nearly a stranger to you, she certainly wasn’t.

“Lord Ren.” The man approached you both and extended his hand, greeting your husband with delight.

“(Y/N), I’d like to introduce you to my business partner and friend, Lord Armitage Hux and his wife, Lady Hux.” Kylo shook the man’s hand, turned towards you and offered an introduction as was custom.

You and Lady Hux met eyes and grinned, and you were simply dying to throw you arms around your friend.

“It is an absolute pleasure to meet you, my Lady.” Hux bowed to you politely, his hair gelled so well that it didn’t move one single millimeter when he ducked down, “I have heard so much about you.”

“Likewise!” You couldn’t help but laugh, making your dear friend laugh as well.

Armitage and Kylo frowned at one another, as you hugged the Lady, looking at them with mischief, quite pleased with your very small prank.

“I did not realize you were already acquainted.” Kylo blinked as you returned to his side.

“We aren’t, the illustrious Lady and I however, are. We’ve run many charitable balls and fundraisers together. You could say I am aware of the great engineer Armitage Hux by proxy.” You explained, making your friend blush.

Oh how radiant she looked in her evening gown! It was a peachy cream-colored bodice, wrapped up in a beautiful silvery blue that complimented her brown hair and eyes in the most wonderful of fashions. There was intricate beading work which creeped up the hem of the dress into a style which nearly made it look as though the blue were tied up in tassels, revealing a peach satin slip underneath. You recognized the gown immediately as being a House of Worth dress, the very same designer which had made your own finery for the evening.

“Had I known you’d be on this ship I would have made my darling seek you out sooner! How lucky that we are to share a dinner table.” Lady Hux beamed, using all of her five-foot-two stature to chastise her six-foot husband.  

“Luck had nothing to do with it, I requested only the finest company for my wife’s enjoyment. It would seem that we are among the best passengers aboard the Titanic.” Kylo said, smug and arrogant in a way that had you rolling your eyes playfully.

“Oh Lord Ren how you tease.” Lady Hux followed suit, before flagging down one of the waiters who was dutifully checking to ensure each table was kept satisfied with drinks and light appetizers. “Sir, might we have a bottle of champagne?”

“Of course ma’am, right away.” The boy said with a deep bow, a move which impressed you considering he was carrying quite a heavy tray.

The four of you sit at one of the tables, the husbands pulling out chairs for their wives.

Ironically enough, you were dressed in a similar color scheme to your friend. Your Worth gown was also peach and blue, however your tones were much more muted. The blue was not the silvery satin of your friend, but a dusky velvet, and the bodice was not so much a light peach as it was a deep burnished shade. Your gown had beaded detailing too, but it cascaded down and wrapped around your waist, a shimmer of floral that reflected sparkles of candlelight.

You both complimented one another on your choice of dress, and your husbands shook their heads and smirked at your obvious silliness. You’re both still laughing amongst yourselves when the champagne arrives, the bubbly doing nothing to curb your high spirits.

“Gossip around the clubs are you’re sailing to America for your honeymoon. Is that so?” Lord Hux asked, sipping his own fluted glass.

“There’s much in New York that we’re very excited to see, isn’t that right?” You answered, as Kylo was entirely too occupied with the way your tongue darted out to lick the drink off your lips.

“I’ve promised quite the itinerary, yes.” Kylo said absentmindedly, before turning to his friend and joking, “What about yourselves, what brings you to the colonies?”

The comment made you huff into your glass, only your husband could be so cheeky.

“Weapons manufacturing, to be frank.” Lord Hux surprised you, piquing your interest and making you set down your glass.

“Weapons? What for, if you don’t mind me asking.” You leaned in slightly.

But before Lord Hux could dive into what you were sure was going to be a riveting discussion, his wife put a hand on his chest to deter him, looking at you with eyes that said oh please don’t get him started.

“Believe me my dear friend, my Armitage wouldn’t mind talking all evening about his weapons he is working on, but perhaps that is conversation that might best be saved for more private audience.” She said softly, and that only interested you further.

“Ah, I see.” You mused, settling back against the cushion of your chair and sipping your champagne. You thought about the large sitting room in your parlor suite, perhaps you could invite the Huxes there one evening for such a discussion. “Your secrets are safe with me, Lord Hux, I can assure you that. I have no desire for gossiping, I merely strive to educate myself on the goings on of the world. We are in such a riveting time of advancements in all avenues, are we not?”

“Kylo you have chosen a most wonderful woman to be your bride, congratulations are in order.” Lord Hux raised his glass to commemorate your union.

Lady Hux followed suit, reaching across the table to take your gloved hand in her own. You smiled at one another, glad to have a friend aboard this massive marvelous ship.

“Thank you, she is truly a wonder, isn’t she? I am forever grateful she had agreed.” Kylo said sincerely, making you look up at him with a deep fondness, your heart quickening once more. With all his comments, you were sure he would set you into a heart attack by the end of the honeymoon!

Just then another tone sounded that it was officially seven o’clock, and dinner was officially served.

You and Lady Hux rose, followed suit by your husbands, who offered you their arms and asked nearly at the same time, “Shall we be seated?”

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

“I notice there are some empty seats at the table, who are we missing?” You asked, once you had all been settled in the great dining hall that was affectionately known as ‘The Ritz.’

Lord Hux explained that this was an even more elite dining experience than the first class halls, as it was restaurateur Gaspare Antonio Pietro "Luigi" Gatti intimate à la carte restaurant. The space was elegantly decorated, and infinitely more intimate, fully carpeted and lined with French walnut-panelled walls and picture windows. You sat at small tables, which unlike the reception room, were lit by individual crystal lamps. Apparently guests could eat here any time, not only during the designated meal hours, which made it a popular choice for the up and up passengers – for an extra fee, of course.

“Oh there are quite a few people still board the ship, rumor has it that Margaret Brown and John Jacob Aster the fourth will be dining with us, they should be here any moment.” Lady Hux knew all the gossip aboard the ship, and you were grateful for it. You could always count on her to ring you up and give you all the details of the goings-ons, so that you didn’t have to.

“We’re taking on more passengers?” You frowned, eyebrows furrowing.

A waiter caught wind of your question as he placed menus on your plates.

“Yes my Lady, we’re in Cherbourg; it’s our only port of call for the continent. We’ll be docking once more in Queenstown, Ireland, before reaching the open waters of the Atlantic.” He offered, and you nearly gasped.

“Goodness I fear for the third class rooms, they must be so packed already.” You expressed your concern.

“No more so than any other ship, my Lady.” The waiter, who could not be a day over twenty years of age, smiled sympathetically to you, before leaving.

No doubt he was staying in such quarters, although you hoped not. For all their sakes, you hoped they were treated better. Something twisted in your stomach though, making you think otherwise.

“How considerate of you to worry yourself with the poor.” Lord Hux commended you, as if it were some air that you put on to appear more progressive.

“My heart aches for them, the conditions they must endure so often due to something as unavoidable as the status of their birth. So few of us are able to enjoy luxuries as these, I find it entirely unfair.” You challenged, for this was no mere fleeting passion of yours. You fought endlessly to close the gap between the rich and poor, Lady Hux nodded in agreement, for she did the same.

“Would you trade your position for one of theirs?” Lord Hux asked, in the mood to debate it would seem. “If given the chance I mean.”

“I don’t need to live in poverty to know the cruelty of it.” You replied easily, a response to a challenge.

He leaned back in his chair then, pleased that you’d play along in a little battle of wits. Lady Hux only smiled behind her glass as food was served, for she knew just how cunning you were. Kylo was completely enraptured with you, and it did wonders for your ego, you had to admit.

“Let me ask you a very fair question, if I may.” Lord Hux’s eyes were calculating, “How do you propose an end to this cruelty?”

“I believe we must vote in favor of laws and procedures which encourage the economic upward movement of the lower classes. At present they’re kept bogged down into the mud – both figuratively and literally – by the laws which rich men propose and sign.” You responded elegantly and easily, thanking the waiter who served you a bowl of consomme rejane.

“Ah you’re one of those suffragettes?” Hux said, as if it were an insult.

“Are you not?” You replied, as if he were the one in the wrong.

The stand-off impressed Kylo greatly, his body language tensing with anticipation. Hux himself was impressed, and he burst into laughter, the serious tone of the debate having disappeared in the recognition that you were no pretty woman with stuffing for brains.

“I’m not so bold to attend any WSPU meetings.” You added when the laughter died down to a pleasant chuckle, as you all sipped your soups.

“Bold is a very good word for them, I should think. I can’t imagine being so angry as to set fire to buildings.” Lady Hux offered, as the WSPU was something of a thorn in her side these days.

“When you have so little left to lose, it is not unfathomable to lose what you have left.” You shrugged, a small nugget of wisdom passed down to you from your grandparents, who themselves were once poor and in a similar position.

“What do you make of all this, Lord Ren?” The ginger inquired, friendly and playful in that cutting manner he and your husband seemed to share. It was no wonder they were good friends, with the way they bickered.

“Must I make something of everything, Lord Hux?” Kylo wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin, leveling a gaze at him.

“I’ll be more specific, your wife.” Hux pointed to you with his knife, before digging into his veal filet.

Kylo regarded you, and it was clear for all to see that he was once again, entranced. Absolute ensnared by you, making you nearly need to look away, for the affection in his eyes was simply overwhelming. And yet, you could not tear your eyes away from his own.

“She’s certainly a sight to behold, is she not? I envision many a night chasing her train of thought.” Kylo said, looking at you while talking to him.

“Oh you’ll chase me alright, my dear.” You mused, forking a chateau potato with the heavy silver cutlery, “But whether I shall let you catch me, well we’ll have to see, won’t we?”

The table erupted into a round of light laughter, and Kylo shook his head, so fond of you.

“I have a great deal of opinions on a great many things,” Kylo eventually answered Hux’s question, “But I also know when I am not well versed in a subject enough to give those opinions on it. I have much to learn from my wife, and I am honored to listen to more of her causes, if she would be so generous as to tell me of them.”

“A true politician’s answer.” You teased, making Kylo’s eyebrows raise slightly, tugging at the scar which traveled up his browbone.

“I am no more a politician than you are a philosopher, my darling.” He teased right back, and you bit back a grin.

“Strong words coming from a man who may find himself sleeping on the couch this evening.” You replied with the hint of a smile, no malice in your tone whatsoever.

“I’m glad you’ll have someone to challenge you, it’s so refreshing when wits are matched, are they not?” Lady Hux leaned her head upon her husband’s shoulder, and he turned to kiss her temple.

“To whom do you refer, my dear?” Hux asked his wife, as you and Kylo smiled at one another.

“The both of them.” She responded, only making you smile more.

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

Eventually, the other guest boarded the ship, and there was a whole big fuss and to-do that came along with their arrival. You had very little interest in any of them, happily content with your own small company. However, the company soon grew larger as your table-mates entered The Ritz, and conversation picked up quite quickly about nothing in particular.

You simply sat back and enjoyed the company, even if now you were presented with strangers who made the setting a little less comfortable simply from not knowing them.

“Does the food please you?” Kylo asked, wanting to make sure you did not feel so alienated.

You were thankful for it, for while Lord and Lady Hux knew these businesspeople and wealthy aristocrats, you were not so familiar.

“It’s absolutely marvelous.” You replied, happy to simply talk with your husband, “Although I fear that there were so many courses, I’ll not have any room come the end of the evening for dessert.”

And there had been, goodness there had been. Between the hors d’oeuvres, the soups, the duck and veal and ham and beef and chicken, the boiled rice and cauliflower, the garlic spinach and watercress salad, by the time the pudding sans souci and charlotte colville came around, you couldn’t bear the thought of vanilla ice cream.

“Nonsense, there is always room for ice cream.” Kylo winked, allowing you the small permission of overly indulging yourself. That was the entire point of the Titanic, he reasoned, and you were inclined to agree with him.

But when the ice cream had settled, you found yourself buzzing with sugar. It must have been eight-fifteen, because the orchestra had begun to play out in the reception room, perking your ears up.

“Oh what a beautiful waltz, darling, might we…?” You asked hopefully, nodding your head in the direction of the sweet music.

Kylo was glad for the chance to part from the table, his long legs must have been aching for a good stretch of their own, surely.

“If you would excuse us, friends.” Kylo said, interrupting the pleasant chatter at the table while you stood.

They paid you little mind other than a few happy words of promises to get together in the upcoming days, and Kylo led you by the arm to the reception room, where many other couples in their utmost finery were dancing together.

You recognized the tune immediately as the popular cello solo from Saint-Saens, Le carnaval des animaux. Kylo hummed along to it, as his strong hand supported your lower back, your shoes carrying you across the dance floor in time with the music.  

“Did you mean it, what you said at the table?” You asked, resting your head upon his chest, the starched shirt only moderately scratchy against your cheek. “The part about wanting to learn?”

“Of course, I won’t lie to you.” Kylo replied, “I find dishonesty detestable.”

“Then may I be honest with you?” You looked up at him with a smile.

“Always.” Kylo quirked a smirk of his own.

“I’d like nothing more than to disappear for the evening.” You whispered, though not a single soul was paying any more attention to you, too wrapped up in their own love affairs. “Perhaps we can…make somewhat of an undetectable exit, return to our rooms when the song is over.”

“Have you left anything at the table?” Kylo tried glancing through the doors into The Ritz, but the angle was blocked.

“Yes, do you think Dopheld would be kind enough as to retrieve it for us?” You groaned, not wanting to have to return to the table. Such an act would only make your intentions clear, and you didn’t want to be the subject of more gossip than you were certain you already were.

Kylo nodded, and when the song ended, you applauded the cellist lightly before escaping back to the rooms.

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

By the time you turned the corner to your hallway, you were happily running, Kylo chasing you playfully. You gathered up the skirt of your dress and laughed and laughed, as he made good on his promise to catch you. And catch you he did, capturing your waist in his hands and carrying you across the threshold of the parlor suite.

You were out of breath from excitement when he carried you still through the sitting room and into the bedroom, placing you onto the bed and setting to undo all your clasps and buttons and hidden fasteners that Worth so craftily kept out of sight.

“What a beautiful evening.” You couldn’t help but sigh, as he kissed the exposed skin of your breasts when he freed them finally from their supports.

“You stole the show, truly.” He agreed, kissing down your sternum as you shimmied out of your foundation garments which pooled on the floor at your feet. “Your charms and wit went over so well with our table.”

You cupped his cheeks, brought him back up to your lips so you could kiss him properly, wanting to feel the hot slide of his tongue against your own, such a kiss scandalous in public, but here, here in the privacy of your rooms, you could indulge.

“I do too.” You whispered suddenly, making him frown.

“Do what, blossom?” He asked, kissing you again again again, stealing your breath away.

“I want to learn of all your causes too.” You explained, remembering the conversation from before, his answer to Hux’s question. “All of them. I feel I have spoken so much of myself today, I hardly gave you any time of your own.”

“I much prefer to listen, but tomorrow I’d be more than happy to delve into some of it.” Kylo suddenly grew shy, and you leaned back enough to look him properly in the eyes.

Your hands on his face lingered, and you rubbed a soothing sort of circle into his scar.

“Don’t be afraid.” You said, and he chewed the inside of his cheek.

“I’m not.” He turned his head to kiss your palm.

“Then why do I see fear in your eyes?” You wondered aloud, making him sigh.

“I only worry that your opinion of me may change.” He sat on the mattress next to you, his impressive weight causing it to dip, causing you in turn to lean towards him.

It was a valid concern, you thought to yourself. Valid for all the rumours about him.

“I think you’ll find I may just surprise you.” You said anyway, assured and reassured him with a squeeze of his hand.

That seemed to appease him enough for the moment, and that cheeky playful smile returned, the shy scowl disappearing into a smooth transition of lust that had your pace quickening all over again.

“I would like, if I may, to take you all over this room.” Kylo said, and you only grinned, only guided his hands back to your exposed breasts, remembering your naked body.

“How do you still have an appetite?” You teased, pulling him towards you, letting yourselves fall backwards onto the mattress.

“I need you like a fish needs water.” He proclaimed, making you laugh and laugh as you rolled on top of him, straddled his waist.  

“Well we are behind closed doors now, shall we test the thickness of the walls?” You challenged, making him grin.

And oh, with what fervor he accepted that challenge, what fervor indeed.

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

Tagging some friends! As always, if you’d like to be taken off or added to the taglist, please just let me know :) 

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