#my dad has been a good sport about it he loves cash and wants to train him to jump thru hula hoops

[greenlitess]

Crash Course.

pairing: johnny suh x reader

genre: fluff

tags: rich!johnny, spoiled!johnny

warnings: n/a

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: johnny isn’t really interested in golf like his father is-- at least, until you show up attempting to do your job and have him completely enraptured.

“Come on, Johnny, at least try to look a little more excited about the most intricate sport invented. It’s not gonna kill you— you might even end up liking it once you get the hang of it!”

Johnny offered a heavy sigh, shaking his head lightly with a chuckle that says everything but actual humor. He had been avoiding this … getting together for weeks, but his luck had ran out when his excuses did, and the next thing he knew, his dad had rented a cart at his favorite course. Apparently, he was a ‘regular’ and ‘everyone loved him’. Johnny is sure it’s not so much as genuine care so much as love for the amount of cash that he forked over, but he wasn’t about to tell his dad that when he also forked cash over to him.

“Mmm. You know.. golf isn’t really my speed, Dad.”

“Psh, you said that about basketball too. And rugby. And you excelled in both. You’re getting older too, so who’s to say you don’t need a sport like this.” His dad easily retorts(he supposed that where he got it from), patting the cart seat. Johnny takes a slow, reluctant seat after adjusting his linen shirt and making sure all of the important bits were properly inside the seat. He has to laugh a bit at his dad, because of course he had a point– he’d denounced both sports, despite how bored he was, and multiple trophies later… well, that spoke for itself. He hadn’t really played either seriously since college, but even quick pick-up games showed how much of an athlete he could be.

He didn’t consider golf athletic in the slightest– just another sport to show off how rich people spent their time– aka, his father. But it had been a while since they had spent quality time together, and the weight of being in his father's shoes sooner than later is heavy on his shoulders.

He wasn’t necessarily rich– yet. But he would be. And while he may not have the… want to play a sport like golf, the least he could was learn for the future. Nothing mattered but networking, anyway– and golf was one of the best ways to do it, according to the old man.

Somewhere between being deep in thought they had arrived at the first hole, and Johnny braced himself for the lectures he was about to hear as he stood up a bit straighter. Luckily, the weather is perfect; the sun shining with a slight overcast that slowly warms up the skin without being blistering. He did like good weather– maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

And truthfully, it really wasn’t. His dad was a good teacher, even if he was a bit wordy about it all. It was all in the wrists he loved to reiterate, over and over again, and while his first few hits had been definitely dead ducks, it wasn’t long before he was getting the hang of it, the movement of repeatedly swinging the club starting to become muscle memory as quickly as anything remotely requiring movement on his end did. Soon, balls that were moving only a few were moving several, and when his first ball floated, er, somewhere(he was blinded by the sun), he couldn't help the genuineness that appeared on his face as his dad patted his back.

Soon, he’s as loose as they come. They’re almost done with their path for the day, and he can… confidently be proven wrong with the enjoyment of spending time with his dad.

“How about a drink break, yeah?” His dad is calling out as he walks to their cart, and Johnny offers a soft nod as another cart, this time adorning a young woman( the only woman he had even seen outside, actually, which was mind boggling, frankly, but whatever), comes to a slow rolling stop.

You step off the cart with ease, the tennis skirt you adorn still perfectly white as always, perfectly paired with a pair of pearly white socks and shoes, and the baby blue collared tucked in as if you were a professional in this sort of thing.

Johnny tries not to stare as he picks the golf ball from the hole he had just managed to land, but it’s hard when the light seems to radiate from behind you like an angel. He’s confused for a few reasons; why someone so beautiful had managed to land themselves here in this moment… and even more confused when his father starts to make his way towards you as if you’re old friends.

In a way perhaps you were, though you wouldn’t call it that. He was a regular, just as regular as you were being a cart girl on a Thursday afternoon, so your paths crossed often.

Lucky him.

Your voice rings clear as you greet Mr. Suh, offering a bright smile that Johnny would swear is brighter than the sun, and several are pieced together at once. He walks up as if his legs are no longer really in his own control. Mr. Suh speaks of course, as Johnny offers a soft nod your way, to which you return.

“Oh, yes. This is my son, Johnny. Finally was able to drag him from his job to join the old man in the greatest sport in the world!”

Johnny sticks his hand out, but his eyes don’t leave yours, and somehow there is something oddly striking about them. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen eyes like that… well, ever.

Introductions are short, and sweet. He repeats your name as if he wants it to linger on his lips a little bit longer than necessary, and the smile he gives you has you quickly turning to your cart so you can get their order. “Nice to meet you… uh, the usual for you, Mr. Suh?” You peek into your cooler to see what you had, making sure it available, and he offers a nod as he places a club back into the bag of his own cart.

“You got it, and whatever my son wants. We haven't got much more, but it’s still early.”

You offer a soft chuckle a bit, and that moment Johnny’s father offers a boisterous laugh as he glances over, clearly seeing someone he recognizes. He’s already walking over as soon as the drink leaves your hand, and there’s a soft shaking of your head that’s good natured.

“I can assure you, he’s always that way.” Johnny’s voice is deep, and rich, with a natural rumble that has you turning to him in a bit of surprise, but it’s still light-hearted.

“Like father and son, perhaps?” You tease with a tilt of your head.Both of his eyebrows raise and he lets out a bit of a surprised sound between laughter and a gasp. You had caught him off guard with your response, which was a feat in itself, and he leans against the cart to get his own bearings.

“In some ways, sure. Not in all.”

“Ah, of course.” You say with a nod, and his brow raises again as he waits for you to elaborate-- but you don’t, only taking a sip of your own water, the sun warming your skin. Of course, you didn’t feel the need to. He was the son of one of the richest men you had ever come into contact with at the course, which can be both a good and bad thing.

More bad than good.

Most of these people had way more money than they knew what to do with, and the more money they had, the less manners they seemed to obtain. Mr. Suh wasn’t quite like that– you’d take five of him over some of the others on even his worst days.

And clearly the good genes ran in the family. Johnny was both striking and seemingly remarkable down the earth, as if you could run into him on the streets and he could be modeling some fancy brand.

You come down from your thoughts to look back at him, only to find him nearly gazing at you, eyes almost narrowed in thought and you have to fight to keep your face neutral. “You never told me what you wanted to drink.”

“I’m not picky. Can you surprise me?”

The ask has you blinking a bit. Usually, the drink requested is down to a science, even to the amount of ice cubes, but Johnny doesn’t seem to even waver, and you swear you see a hint of a twinkle in his eyes– or perhaps the sun reflecting just perfectly to see dark brown.

“Hmm. Alright.”

It’s simple enough to make a rum and coke, and he watches with a smirk as you expertly mix up the classic drink, placing three ice cubes exactly before you’re handing it to him and he takes it with a hand that just barely brushes yours.

It’s softer than you expect.

“It’s good.” He nods after a generous sip, and you find yourself looking away since your cheeks suddenly feel hot, but his question makes you focus again: “So.. is this what you do? You just… serve drinks?”

“Pretty much. Gotta make sure the patrons are comfortable.” You reply with a soft sigh, deciding to take a seat. They were your last stop before heading back anyway… and you’d be lying if you didn’t enjoy Johnny’s presence.

The feeling was mutual, and he leans against the cart with intense brown eyes and a gaze you know he knows exactly how to use. “I wasn’t interested in coming here, before.” He suddenly finds himself confessing.

“Hmm? And what changed?” You find yourself asking, looking back up at him, only to see full lips slowly curling up to an almost lopsided, but one-hundred percent devious smile, to which you roll your eyes, looking at the skyline to hide the one threatening on your own lips.

“Mmm. I don’t fraternize with patrons.” You respond— it’s not a lie, and it was technically a rule as well. You couldn’t mix pleasure and play with your work, and even… as attractive as Johnny Suh was, you weren’t willing to jeopardize your job for a pretty man— those came a dime a dozen at the course— along with pretty shiny wedding rings, free dinners and vows to ‘keep things between them.’

Johnny looks wounded, but there’s a twinkle in his eye that you can’t help but laugh at, head tilting back at all as he looks at you with almost a fond wonder. You were beautiful. And he wasn’t willing to give up that easily.

“I’m not exactly a patron, though.”

“Mmm, but your father is.” You retort, making him blow air out of his nose as he glances over to see his father still fraternizing. No matter— gave him more of a chance to change your mind.

“Is that me?” He responds, tilting his head with a rise of a brow that makes you quirk your own. You were sure, with those looks, with his charm, he was used to getting his way. Not that you particularly blamed him— if you looked like that you’d also use it to your advantage. “I’m not my father.”

“Ah, that’s what they all say, Mr. Suh.”

“Call me Johnny. I’m not my father, seriously.” He repeats then, softer, and while the smile is still at the edge of his lips, there’s a hint of seriousness to his words that have you pausing, before you allow yourself to slowly nod.

“… I believe you.” You murmur. And at the very least, a part of you did. Or perhaps you wanted to. So many of the kids were just clones of their  parents. While Mr. Suh was one of the nicer patrons, who’s to say that Johnny wasn’t a spitting image in more ways than one?

Johnny stares then, the sun hitting your eyes just right to highlight the gold flecks in them, and for a moment he grows lost as you seem to think it over. Perhaps it’s the liquid courage he’s barely had half a glass of, but something prompts him to at least try. You miss one-percent of the shots you never take, and while it’s a phrase commonly used by his father... It seems fitting at this moment. “… let me take you to dinner. I’ll show you.”

There it is. The request after work, to which has your cheeks flushing hot and there’s a sigh leaving your lips. “I just told you, I don’t fraternize with patrons.”

“What about friends?”

“We’re not friends. Y-“

“Yet.”

His confidence has you pausing as he interrupts you, to which a chuckle escapes your full lips as you shake your head. Of course there was nothing that said you couldn’t hang with friends… but Johnny seemed convinced. “You know nothing about me.”

“… yet.” Johnny continues, and there’s that perfect smile on his lips again you swear could cause a car accident. “…. I want to, though. When do you work?”

“Johnny, I cannot tell you my schedule.”

This time he laughs, a melodic way, calming and familiar, and there’s another eye roll that leaves you, but at least it’s more playful this time.

It seems his father has poor timing, finally done hanging with an old college buddy to start making his way back over… and you move to sit properly to head off, but Johnny clearly has other plans.“You didn’t answer me.” He murmurs, that grin ever so present.

“And I won’t. You think I’ll just give it to you?” You respond with a quirk of your brow, and his tongue finds his cheek. His eyes sparkle with a proposal of a challenge, and you can see before you realize what’s happening. Johnny’s father comes up seemingly five pounds lighter and a pep in his step. He mumbles something as he retrieves a different club from his own cart.

“What did you kids get up to?” He finally asks, dark eyes darting back between you and his son in curiosity. You open your mouth to start, but Johnny gets to it first.

“I was just… telling our lovely cart attendant how much I loved the sport and was planning to come back tomorrow. Maybe even more often.” He says, almost casually, but as he gives you a brief gaze, you can see the way his eyes sparkle.

You’d say you didn’t have a shiver down your spine. You’d be lying.

[oddree13]

Restless Year - Chapter 7

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

(Prior Chapter) (Next Chapter)

(Read on AO3)

Chapter 7 - Be My Baby

November 1989

“I know you hate the city but a deal’s a deal, Wayne. We come for Turkey day and you come up here for the first two nights of Hanukkah.”

“But won’t you be at the shop?” Wayne huffs, and Eddie can tell he’s on the porch outside his double-wide smoking. 

“During the day for a bit, but I want to show it to you! I know Steve sent you photos of the inside but it doesn’t do it justice,” Eddie pleads, despite knowing his uncle is just giving him a hard time for fun. “I even got a nice Johnny Cash and Woody Guthrie record to play while you're in the store. None of my music, promise.”

“Fine, but only because if I say no I’ve got to deal with Steve’s puppy eyes all throughout the football game. Why’d you have to go and mate the kind of man who can wrap you around his finger?”

“Because he did exactly that Wayne and I was happy to let him. Now Steve is going to get the bird from a deli here and we’ll drive in Wednesday night. And did you look into that thing I asked you about?” Eddie whispers, turning into the phone so Steve can’t hear him from the living room. 

“I did that and I did the other thing too. They won’t be in town so don’t gotta worry about them seein’ ya,” Wayne assures and some of the anxiety seeps out of Eddie. The Harrington house has been empty for months now but Eddie didn’t want to take that chance.

“Thank you again and we’ll see you soon. Love ya.” Eddie hangs up the phone and goes to join Steve on their sofa where he’s reading something for class. He can see his eyes squinting and honestly thinks the younger man should think about getting glasses. 

“Seems like you won the argument. How many rounds of convincing is this?” Steve queries, not looking up from the page.

“Three. You’d think with months' notice, a bus ticket, and me assuring him that ‘no it would not be an issue’ over and over again that I could make it through one call without him waffling, but no. I had to convince him again.”

“What won him over this time?”

Eddie wants to lie because if he tells Steve the truth his mate will be insufferably smug. But lucky for Eddie he enjoys that look on Steve. “He said he wanted to watch the Lions game in peace and didn’t want to deal with your, and I quote, puppy eyes, throughout the match. Seems the Harrington charm works on all the Munsons.”

“Good to know. And he’s right, I would have guilted him but only between downs.”

“I still don’t know what that means Steve.”

“And that’s why I can win your uncle over. I make his nephew happy AND I can talk about sports. And speaking of making you happy, I called the court today and they have spots in a week to sign the papers. But I sort of had another idea.”

“Another idea? If this is your way of wanting to back out of this arrangement, it’s a little too late princess. The ink on the paper might not be set, but the ink on my neck is.”

Steve rolls his eyes and goes forward without acknowledging Eddie’s comment. “No, I was thinking that we should wait a week and just register our bonding at the courthouse in Hawkins. I called and they’ve got openings. Thought it might be nice to do it back where we met.”

Eddie turns to look at his mate. Steve is still focused on the paper in front of him but isn’t reading, which tells Eddie he’s nervous about his suggestion. Depending on the day Hawkins is still a sore spot for both of them so he understands Steve’s hesitation. 

“I mean that could be nice, but doesn’t that mean the whole town would find out? I mean last I checked the Hawkins Post still lists out all the marriage announcements in the Sunday Edition.” It clicks for Eddie as he finishes that thought. Steve wants that. He wants the whole town to know.

“Would that be so bad?” Steve wonders, his voice cautious and small. 

“Not at all, baby. My only regret is that I won’t be able to see the look on your dad’s face when he opens his Sunday edition and finds out we bonded as he tries to complete the crossword.” The image earns a laugh from Steve who tells Eddie his parents only get the Chicago Tribune at the house. 

“It’s not going to stop people from gossiping. I bet my mom will get a grey hair each time someone tries to congratulate her on her new son-in-law.”

"Well, that right there is the cherry on top. Why don't you book us a spot for the Friday after Thanksgiving so we can wrangle Robin into being our witness? And I know I've asked you before but are you sure you don't want to do anything? I know you keep saying you don't want a wedding but-"

"I don't want a wedding Eds. If you really want to make it special get a nice collared shirt to go under your leather jacket so I'm not the only one dressing up for our courthouse date."

"Whatever you want Stevie."

*

“Steve, I’m supposed to ask you if you have the numbers for December yet,” Carmen asks as Steve walks into Smash Records. Following the success of his Halloween analysis, Eddie and Moxie pleaded with him to run numbers for the holiday rush which makes Steve wonder how they’d been running the shop in the black for the last ten years. 

“And why are you asking me and not my lovely mate?” Steve inquires, looking around the shop for said mate. 

“Because Eddie thinks you’ll be nice to me and give me an actual answer instead of sarcasm,” they admit, and honestly they're not wrong. It’s not that Steve isn’t running the numbers,he is. It’s just that finals are coming up and he feels like everything is starting to run him down, making normal work take longer. He’s found mornings harder to deal with, and a few times his warm showers have left him nauseous to the point of almost vomiting.

“Well, my answer depends on whether or not you have the pecan pie recipe I asked for. I’ve got an uncle to win over in a few days and I’m not trying to find good bourbon for it in suburban Indiana.”

Carmen reaches behind the counter and passes Steve a recipe card. “One chocolate bourbon pecan pie recipe as requested. Numbers please?” Their smile reminds Steve of the kids when trying to get something, and with a fond roll of his eyes, Steve reaches into his satchel for the folder. 

“All here, including some ideas of how many CDs to stock since they're growing in popularity, much to your fearless leader’s dismay. He really doesn’t want to start collecting a whole new medium.” 

“We’ve all heard the rants, believe me. But really, thanks for this. Eddie tells us you’re going back to your hometown for Thanksgiving. Seeing your kids for the holiday?” 

Steve has to laugh and honestly prefer it to the question he’s been getting all week at school - ‘seeing your family for Thanksgiving?’. He inherently knows it's an innocent question, so he just nods along, not eager to explain his situation to casual acquaintances. But it seems Carmen has been clued into Steve’s extended pack. 

“Yeah, we’re staying with Eddie’s uncle. It’ll be a day of me cooking while Eddie does his best to derail me. Giving both Wayne and me a headache as he fails to grasp football for another year. Usually, the Friday after we’ll get together with our pack for what has been dubbed ‘The Byers Leftovers Feast’ where everyone just brings their leftovers and chows down. Most of the kids are in town for the break so it’ll be good to see them. And no doubt remind me the entire time that they are indeed, not children.”

“That sounds like a fun time. And if you happen to have leftover pie or are tempted to bake a test run, feel free to send it with Eddie,” Carmen hints as Steve walks to the back office to find his mate. 

Eddie is on the phone when Steve walks in, fidgeting with a rogue d20 on his desk. 

“No, no, you are not covering this. I don’t care if you say it’s a gift, it’s not a gift if I’m springing this on you. I’m an adult now Jim, with money gotten through legal means,” he argues, clearly frustrated with the person on the other line. Steve knocks on the door to announce his presence, causing Eddie to lose balance on his seat and flail a bit to stay upright. 

“I’ve got to go but this discussion is not over,” Eddie mutters before hanging up the phone. “Hey there Stevie, did you talk to Carmen?”

“They have the numbers and I have pie. But stop sicing your employees on me, Eddie.”

“But you don’t say no to most of them so they’re a great asset to my arsenal. Thank you again by the way. My store mathematics only extends to inventory and cashing out the register.” Eddie gets up and walks over to Steve, shutting the door behind him before pulling him in for a kiss. “Hey, there gorgeous.”

“Hey there yourself. Who was that on the phone by the way?”

Eddie glances back to the phone and just shrugs. “No one important. Just calling in a favor that someone is taking too seriously. But you have good timing, I was about to take my mid-day power nap, and what better person to use as a pillow than my perfect mate.”

“You love using that word don’t you?”

“I do Stevie, I do. But less talk more sleep. C’mon.”

*

The ride to Hawkins is uneventful. They leave after rush-hour dies down, opting to drive at dusk rather than deal with the bumper-to-bumper hell that was I-90 getting out of the city. The turkey is chilling in the trunk in a cooler already, and Eddie is still bitching that he had to carry the bird down three flights of stairs. Their much finessed ‘Car Compromise Mix 4’ plays on the radio, filing in the gaps in Eddie’s monologue. 

Somewhere just past the border of Illinois, they switch spots, Eddie taking the wheel while Steve takes his turn to stare out the passenger window. It’s been six months since they left Hawkins. It both sounds like a long time and not enough time. Distance from the town that brought them together while giving them nightmares has been good for them both, and not just for the freedom it’s given them. Steve noticed the night terrors began to lessen within weeks of being in Chicago. Eddie smoked less as a result, and Steve’s dependency on caffeine had lessened. Sure his bat is still in the closet, but it’s no longer under the bed within reach. 

Steve’s not naive enough to have imagined they’d never return. As long as one of the pack remained in Hawkins there would always be a pull beyond the lingering fear of the upside-down. And for as much as he agreed to come back and continue their Thanksgiving tradition with Wayne…a part of him wonders when they’ll opt to stay in Chicago, making their own traditions and rituals. 

Holidays weren’t an easy thing for Steve. Growing up he remembers looking forward to events like Easter and Christmas until he realized that it was another part of the Harrington facade. It was only there to showcase how they were a nice Christian family and there was no need to look any closer. Once Steve was out of his childhood years the traditions stopped as there was no longer currency in family photo cards or Christmas parties at the Harrington home. They were traded for formal winter galas and an envelope of cash for Steve to buy what he wanted. Throughout high school Steve spent the Eve of the holiday with a friend or date, lying through his teeth about his family plans for the next day. 

After their second encounter with the upside-down Dustin spilled the beans to his mother that Steve would be alone for Christmas, which led to a few years of intruding on Henderson holidays. It’s not that he didn’t appreciate it, on the contrary, he had his own stocking over the fireplace, but he knew it wouldn’t always be his tradition. This is why in the winter of ‘86 Steve was all too happy to accept Eddie’s invitation to watch Little Shop of Horrors and get takeout. They’ve been doing it ever since. It wasn’t a hardship to leave the rituals of his childhood behind, especially when they’ve been to actual hell and back. So for now he doesn’t mind going to Hawkins, but hopes that soon Wayne will trek into the city for Thanksgiving and more.

“Okay, I know something is up. Whitney Houston is playing and you aren’t singing along. What gives?”

“Didn’t know you missed my singing voice. I’ll happily oblige.”

“I don’t think you can call your tuneless caterwauling a singing voice but go on. Entertain me, princess.

*

The courthouse is unsurprisingly empty. It’s the Friday after Thanksgiving and every employee inside looks hungover and ready to go home.  

Steve and Robin are sitting outside of the family division waiting for Eddie who insisted on Steve getting ready at Robin’s - ��it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding”. Steve knows he just wants to make an entrance. His knee is bouncing again with anticipation, and Robin can’t help but tease him. 

“Steve, do I need to remind you that you and Eddie are already mated, so I’m really not sure why you’re nervous. And stop playing with your tie, you’re going to crease it,” she chides, smacking his hand. 

Steve is grateful that he only needs one witness for this as he doesn’t think he could have handled more than Robin. He knows Dustin will be disappointed when he finds out, but he didn’t want to be fussed over. Instead, he had Robin tease him as he ironed his khaki slacks and navy blazer, reminding Steve that he was getting married to Eddie Munson, not going on a yacht. 

“I’m not nervous, I’m excited. This is the last step, Robin. We got engaged, mated, and now we’re signing the last bit of paper that makes it very difficult for Eddie to change his mind about us.”

The comment rips a snort from Robin. “Right because after one year of pining and two years of dating, today is the day Eddie is going to change his mind. Don’t think I didn’t see his newest tattoo, Steve. That man is head over heels for you.”

“That I am Buckley, but no heels today. I wore my nice boots!”

Eddie is walking towards them in what he considers his nice boots, holding a bouquet of pansies. His hair is pulled back, and under his black leather jacket, Eddie has the promised button-down shirt complete with a tie he probably borrowed from Wayne. He looks gorgeous, Steve thinks, and gets up to kiss him, only to be blocked by Eddie’s hand. 

“Nuh uh-uh, that comes after the papers, Stevie. I’m going through all this effort to keep you honest and you’re about to ruin it before the finish line.” A tug on Steve’s tie pulls him close, as Eddie leans in to whisper in his ear. “You look good by the way.”

“So do you. Ready?”

“Been ready,” he grins and walks forward to open the door to the clerk’s office. 

Steve walks in first and goes to the desk to sign in only to see a familiar face behind the counter - Nicole Anderson. Steve hasn’t seen her since that whole debacle with Jonathan and Nancy and didn’t imagine anyone his age would be working at the courthouse. 

“You know I saw your name on the schedule and convinced myself that it must be another Steve Harrington, because there was no way King Steve was settling down.” 

Steve does his best to not bristle at the nickname and just gives a tight-lipped nod. “Yeah, been with my mate for about three years now? We figured it was time.”

Nicole leans over to look behind Steve and her eyes land on Robin. “Is that Robin Buckley? I mean there were always rumors,” Nicole starts, only to have her words interrupted by the sight of Eddie Munson looping an arm around Steve’s waist. 

“I wouldn’t go suggesting that. Robbie’s alpha is the protective sort. Nah, Stevie here mated me,” Eddie supplies. “And we would very much like to register that today if you don’t mind.”

The look of utter bewilderment on Nicole's face is worth the awkward interaction. She passes the clipboard with the form and tells them to fill it out before she bolts to the back, saying something about needing more certificate paper.

“Well if you all wanted to be the town gossip you’ll certainly get that with or without the paper," Robin giggles, watching the now empty chair swivel. 

“Fine by me.” Steve takes a seat and begins filling out the form, checking box after box. By the time they're done Steve is sliding the clipboard back through the window to another clerk who assures them the certificate will be right out. Steve doesn't miss the group of people staring at them through the swinging door. 

“I do not miss that,” Eddie whistles. The trio makes small talk until the clerk comes back with a fancy-looking document. 

“Gentleman if you'll just come and sign there you'll be all set.”

Steve walks up next to Eddie and signs his name. A part of him feels like he should say something, but before he can think of something Eddie is pulling him aside for a kiss as Robin puts her name on the witness line. 

“You're mine forever now Steve Harrington.”

The clerk is blushing between them and informs Eddie that the certified copy will be sent by mail along with the name change forms. He thanks them and walks out of the room holding Steve's hand. 

*

“I know it's a tradition but we can totally leave the Byers Leftovers Feast early and go celebrate. Maybe head down to the lake?”

Steve's suggestion earns a gag from Robin, who reminds them that they're married adults who can fuck in a bed. Steve flicks her off in return. 

“As if any of the kids will let us escape. Besides, everyone is in town for once and I know you miss everyone.”

It's odd seeing so many cars in front of the Byers-Hopper house but Steve figures the kids are just finally making use of their licenses. Robin walks in ahead with the excuse of going to find Nancy, but Steve figures she's just dying to change. 

Steve moves towards the house but finds Eddie holding him back. 

“Hey, just a second before we go in there." Steve figures that Eddie wants a moment to themselves before the chaos of seeing their friends. 

“I know you said you didn't want a wedding.”

“Because I don't Eddie.”

“I know, I know Steve. But this still deserves to be celebrated. We deserve to be celebrated. Which is why through those doors isn't the Byers Leftovers Feast. It's our wedding reception, Stevie. And I really hope you're not mad at me for planning it.”

It takes Steve a moment to process just what Eddie is saying. He looks at the door and then back at Eddie. For a second he lets himself hope that somehow his parents are here but knows that's a stupid pipe dream he doesn't actually want. What he really wants is his chosen pack and from the way the lawn is packed he's getting exactly that. 

Steve reaches up to cup Eddie's face, pulling the alpha close. “I'm not mad Eddie. At all. Thank you. You didn't have to. You never have to. But you always do.” Steve kisses Eddie like he'd wanted to in the courthouse. His lips press against Eddie, pouring into him every ounce of affection and love he has for this man. How he appreciates every effort Eddie has been making to show off their bond. The rings, the Halloween party, the mark, and now this. 

“Let's go celebrate Eddie.”

Champagne bottles pop as soon as they walk through the door. Everyone is dressed up and the inside of the Byers' living room is decorated. Jonathan is there snapping photos as they walk in and hug everyone, and Steve wonders what vinyls Eddie had to trade to get that favor.  

Joyce wraps Steve in a hug as soon as the kids get off him, while Hopper is showing Eddie the spread. "I'm not going to hear a word about any of this alright? It's a gift," he insists and suddenly the discussion Steve overheard in Eddie's office last week makes sense. 

Among the guests are Wayne, Karen, Claudia, and even Charlie.  A few of Eddie's Hellfire friends are there along with Jeff and Gareth. Everywhere Steve and Eddie turn someone is ready to congratulate them, ask them about Chicago, and give their two cents on married life. Food and drink are handed to them without asking and they spend a lot of time trying to find a way back to each other's side.

When the music starts playing Steve looks and finds Max with a pile of mix tapes at the ready. Robin pulls Steve to dance and despite Eddie insisting he would not be dancing, El wins him over with a small 'please'. The middle of the Byers’ living room turns into a dance floor, alternating between pop hits and heavier songs that Eddie appreciates. 

Steve is just about to sit down to take a break when Eddie catches his hand and pulls him close. Steve recognizes the familiar drum beat coming through the speakers and relaxes into Eddie’s arm. 

“Who picked this, you or Max?”

“I put in this particular request.”

“I didn’t know the Ronettes were on your radar.”

Eddie nods, leaning in to kiss Steve’s cheek. “This was another song on rotation when my mom was still around. And it might have wound up on a mixtape of mine when I was still pathetically pining after you.”

“Is that why you call me baby?” 

Eddie doesn’t answer Steve, opting instead to whisper the song into Steve’s ear until it fades out.

[nickgerlich]

Lights Out

Where I grew up in Chicagoland, there were no Walmarts in the 1960s. That was still primarily a regional southern chain, and in the Windy City, we had Kmart. It was the offspring of the S.S. Kresge Company, which had long maintained a chain of so-called dime stores.

The first Kmart had opened in Garden City Michigan in 1962, and was an instant success. The chain peaked at 2486 stores in 1994, but has been dying a slow but steady death ever since. And as my friend Rolando Pujol, The Retrologist, proclaimed in his Substack account this weekend, once the store in Westwood New Jersey closes later this month, only two will remain. The store is busy selling anything and everything, from merchandise to fixtures, in anticipation of the closing.

I have many memories of going to the nearby Kmart with my family. They were the stuff of which middle-class America was made. While my family was in good enough financial position to shop at Sears for most of our clothing, tools, appliances, and so forth, we went to Kmart for everything else.

Kmart’s signature marketing tool was its Blue Light Special, in which some hapless employee would push a little cart around that had a vertical pole, atop which was mounted the revolving blue light.

At the designated spot, he would stop and turn it on. An announcer would make a proclamation over the public address system, and then chaos would ensue as shoppers tried to grab whatever they could.

I still have memories of this, as it made each Kmart visit unique and, for all intents and purposes, competitive sport. Shoppers knew to keep a watchful eye for the cart appearing, wondering where it would stop, or listening for the crackle of the PA.

I'll never forget the vision of my mother clawing with other women over stockings that were on deep discount. I still bear the emotional scarring. My Dad, brother, and I looked on with upper lips curled, wondering what the hell is going on here. Pavlov missed his calling; he should have studied retail, not dogs.

Skip forward to 2005, and a very strange thing happened. Kmart, which by then was starting to swirl down the drain, merged into Sears, another chain whose better days were fading fast into the rear view. I suppose that misery loves company, and rather than each looking for a buyer to save their very lives, they joined forces.

Here we are today, with a pair of Kmarts and 12 Sears still open. It was like the Titanic tethered itself to the Lusitania, the latter torpedoed by change, the former sinking from smug ignorance of the dangers at sea.

Of course, we academics love a sad story as much as a happy one, because there are stories to be told, case studies to be written. And people will be writing about Kmart and Sears for years to come, both of which were firmly mired in their pasts, oblivious to the present, much less the future.

It is comically unimaginable to picture Kmart having the moxie to weather the COVID storm, with curbside, online ordering, and a powerful app. Not in your life. They’re still stuck with the clunky brick phones of the 90s, with flip phones just wishful thinking. Sears, of course, wound up being where old people shopped; they even sold off their best assets, namely private label brands like Craftsmen, Die Hard, and Kenmore, in order to raise cash. But you keep telling yourself that things will get back to the old normal.

Once the Boomers and Gen-Xers are gone, memories of these two chains will start to slip from public consciousness. There will be other companies as well, and my friend will no doubt be documenting them. This is his passion, chasing down the fading nostalgia of the day. It just makes me feel a little nostalgic, though, wanting to see one of those Blue Light Specials one more time. It would be entertaining.

That’s something no Walmart store can claim.

Dr “Just Don’t Trample Me” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[candlewitches]

i havent met the wee lad yet but apparently he’s very sweet and less of a handful than lola was but. that breed mix... fear...

[erodasfishtacos]

Could you do a blurb of mlb!Harry and y/n doing an interview with a magazine and they talk about how they met, how he decided he wanted to play baseball professionally, being a father and mother and winning the championship

thought this was a cute idea

okay! ive gotten a ton of requests. im going to do it in an article format.

It’s for Times Magazine - he’s over the cover - with the title - A Legend Among Us.

Tom is the interviewer

—

Harry had welcomed me up to his house for the interview. A beautiful sprawling mansion nestled in the woods near a lake in New York - right outside the city where he played.

As soon as I walked in, the house was warm and felt like a well-lived in house. The baseball player had apologized for the small littering of dump trucks, barbies, and blocks that were left behind.

We sat down outside on the patio, it was cool, and Harry was dressed in a Yankees hoodie and Nike shorts - sponsored by them of course.

Harry was actually Nike’s biggest money making sponsor due to his merchandise and memorabilia with the company.

I could tell Harry was relaxed, a carefree smile on his face opposed to the scowl he had when he was on the mound.

There were toys scattered on their pristine green grass, a massive pool, jungle gym, and sandpit - a child’s dream.

Harry cracked a joke that the landscapers hate cutting their grass because of all the toys in the way.

Tom: Mr. Styles - a pleasure to sit down with you. I’m a bit starstruck if I’m honest.

Harry: [laughs] it’s no problem. Thanks for agreeing to come up here.

Tom: It’s a beautiful piece of property.

Harry: Yeah, I love it. My wife picked this house out and she has way better taste than me. She did good.

Tom: Let’s talk about her. How long have you been together?

A soft look appears on Styles face as soon as he starts speaking about her.

Harry: We’ve been together ten years, married for eight now - just celebrated our anniversary a month ago.

Tom: That’s impressive, especially for a sport man like yourself.

I realize that what I had said hadn’t sat right with the baseball player. His tone comes back much sharper with me.

Harry: I don’t need to be rewarded or praised because I’ve stayed loyal to my wife. Just because of my job doesn’t make me a scumbag.

Tom: I apologize. It’s just that you constantly have beautiful women chasing after you.

Harry: Okay? Have you seen the woman I’m married to? She’s fucking gorgeous. There’s a reason we have four kids, can’t keep my hands off her.

Tom: Four kids - three boys and a girl, right? Tell us their names and ages, maybe something about them, if you would.

Harry: Our oldest is Easton, he is six and a half, and is definitely is a little leader. He doesn’t take shit from anyone and bosses all his siblings around. He’s the most like me.

Tom: Is that good or bad?

Harry: [laughs] If you ask me, I’d say good. If you ask my wife, she would say no.

Tom: Then Cash?

Harry: Yeah, he’s four. He’s the comedian. He is such a free spirit, easy-going, and always being silly. He craves attention and always gets it.

Tom: He sounds like a good time.

Harry: He is. Then Ezra who is two and just a sweetheart. He’s sensitive, very caring, but also nervous like none of my other kids are.

Tom: Does that make it harder for you?

Harry: Not at all. I’m just really protective of him.

Tom: That doesn’t surprise me.

Harry: Then we have Briar. Our little girl, she’s about three months old right now. We’re still getting to know her but she is a carbon copy of her mama.

Tom: Interesting. All your boys look exactly like you.

Harry: It was amazing to see those boys come out looking like me. I am man enough to admit I sobbed when I saw how gorgeous she was like her mother.

Tom: Wrapped around your finger, huh?

Harry: Just like her mama. Completely whipped for them.

Tom: What’s the secret that you’re hiding for such a happy marriage?

Harry appears thoughtful for a moment, reaching to take a swig of his protein drink as I take the opportunity to sip the expensive tasting sparkling water he’d offered me.

Harry: She is always making me work for it. In the best way possible. I mean I’m constantly chasing after her. She still plays hard to get like she did before we started dating.

Tom: I think most people would assume it was the other way around.

Harry: YN is the best fucking wife. I mean incredible, honestly. She’s the best mama to our babies. It would be impossible for me to not being head of heels for her.

Tom: What’s it like being a father?

Harry: [laughs] It’s the best. I thought baseball was the best job out there but it isn’t. I love being a dad. I would have a full baseball team if the missus would let me.

Tom: I mean baseball is a pretty good gig, right? You are the highest-paid player in history. You have also broken a massive amount of records that people thought were impossible to beat.

Harry: [his smile becomes a bit cocky as he shrugs] As much as it will make people mad, it comes easy to me but I also work hard because I want to set a good example for my children.

*interview continues about baseball for a bit*

In the middle of a question about his favorite teams growing up, we are interrupted by their patio door opening and a child who looks exactly like Harry toddles over.

It had to be Ezra as Harry had told me the other two were at school. The two-year-old had obviously escaped his mother’s grasp as she is hurriedly rushing out after him.

YN apologizes with a exasperated laugh, a fresh baby tucked in a sling around her chest. Ezra gives me a unsure look before he’s crawling up his father until he’s settled in his lap.

Harry forgets the question, distracted as he helps his son get comfortable in his arms, and a hand coming to rub the boys back.

He is assuring his wife that Ezra is okay, motioning them over to give her a kiss before doing the same to his daughter’s forehead.

Harry: It’s about nap time for this one. [Harry nods down to his son who’s nuzzling into his chest]

I was hoping to get more from the baseball player but as soon as Ezra requests that his dad takes him for a nap - Harry is soothing and agreeing with his son.

He is soft with his son, voice turning into a hum that is vastly different from the rough rasp on the field as he curses out refs.

It was overall a great experience, to get a look into the life of Harry Styles. I was walked out with Harry toting a sleepy toddler on his hip.

I got in my car, observing the Porsche, Escalade, Range Rover, and Lamborghini truck that is a reminder of just how rich this man was.

And I can’t say I’ll ever forget interviewing the most talented sport player that we will ever see in our time and much more time to come.

[sunkissedpages]

instead of you [part seventeen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol +sex

word count: 1.5k

series masterlist

The flight from Naples to Tokyo took fourteen hours, not including the two and a half hour layover in Istanbul, meaning you had sixteen and a half hours to sit in awkward tension-filled silence next to Sam. The tension was one-sided, of course, but it was still agonizing to endure.

You had been able to push your anxiety aside during your last day in Italy because it had been so busy. There had been a power outage in the middle of the night, causing everyone to oversleep and miss the ferry for one of your tours that morning. It had been a scramble to get back on schedule and do as much as possible with the time you had left. The boys had been hungover and their parents were tired of wrangling them. You had dozens of photos on your camera roll of Sam and Harry bickering when they were supposed to be posing for a nice picture, and even more of Tom flicking them off. 

But now you were stuck alone with your thoughts, unable to use distraction as a means to escape. You tried reading your book, but found yourself unable to concentrate on the words on the page. After staring at the same paragraph for over fifteen minutes Sam noticed and asked if you were okay and you finally decided to call it quits. 

You almost wished the Hollands hadn’t scheduled in a day and a half to adjust to the time zone change. You’d rather exhaust yourself with the nonstop tourist bullshit than have to cope with the reality that you had gotten off to thoughts about your best friend’s brother. Not to mention living with the secret that the same best friend’s brother had kissed you not long before that. 

If Sam noticed anything was off, he didn’t mention it. He probably chalked it up to lack of sleep, or perhaps was too tired himself to care. 

“Which one of us do you think will be randomly selected in customs today?” Harry asked, stretching his arms above his head. 

You were standing in the aisle waiting to deplane, placing bets on who’d get searched by border agents this time. Somehow each time you traveled to a new place one of you was always chosen to get pat down or have your carry-on searched. Tom had yet to be the lucky winner, and you suspected it had something to do with his celebrity status. 

“Y/n,” Tom answered easily. “She has the U.S. passport.”

You rolled your eyes. “Like England has a squeaky clean record with Japan.”

“At least we didn’t-”

“Bro, you can’t say the b word on a plane,” Harry interrupted.

“Even when the plane’s on the ground?”

Sam shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Whatever,” Tom continued. “It’s definitely going to be y/n.”

-

“Would you mind stepping out of line, ma’am?” 

You sighed, not even bothering to look back at the boys. You already knew they were grinning like idiots and you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. The agent ushered you to the side behind a glass partition, but not before you heard another agent repeat the same question to one of the Hollands. You smiled to yourself, happy not to be the only one singled out.

Behind the privacy screen another agent greeted you and asked you to take your sweatshirt off, explaining that it was too baggy and needed to be checked. You saw other people in baggy clothes who weren’t getting pulled out of line, but assumed they didn’t have the red flag of “U.S. Citizen” printed on their identification that would be cause for any additional suspicion. You complied with the agent’s request and pulled your sweatshirt off for them to further inspect.

You were glad you’d worn a sports bra underneath your sweatshirt because you usually didn’t wear anything underneath them. As soon as your head was out of the pullover you immediately met by Tom’s polite smile. 

He averted his eyes as soon as he saw you, pausing his conversation with the official to mumble a quiet ‘sorry’ to you as he was shown to the spot next to yours. 

You zoned out as they spoke, only aware of him again when he started unbuckling his belt. You caught his eye this time. 

“Forgot to take it off,” he explained.

“Sweatshirt’s too loose.”

You both faced forward as the customs officials proceeded through the motions. You were stuck standing there half-naked with your arms wrapped around your chest self-consciously while an agent pat Tom’s legs down. 

“Dad said we can meet them at baggage claim,” Tom said after a few moments of silence between the two of you. “They went on without us.”

“Okay,” you squeaked back in response. 

You knew it wouldn’t take long, but it still made you nervous to be alone with Tom. Sam was like a safety blanket, or a buffer between you and him and without him you were afraid it would be painfully awkward. 

The woman handed you your sweatshirt back and you had to wait for Tom outside of the screening area. He joined you a minute or so later.

“They find any dirt on you?” you asked from where you were leaning against the wall across from the exit. 

“Nope, you?”

“Yeah, actually I’m in custody right now. Can’t believe you missed the handcuffs.”

“Man, what’d they get you for?” 

“Identity theft,” you sighed. 

“Damn, that’s a bummer,” Tom replied, false sympathy rolling off his words. 

He cocked his head in the direction the rest of his family had went, indicating that you should get going, and held out a hand to pull you upright. You took it hesitantly and let him help you. 

“I was actually hoping you could bail me out?” you went on, continuing with the bit. 

Tom made a sound through his teeth and grimaced. “I’m kinda broke right now.”

“Aren’t you an actor?”

“Sorry, but I think you have me confused with someone else.”

“No, you’re definitely the guy!”

“You’re thinking of Tom Hiddleston,” he insisted.

“Remember that IOU you gave me? I’m cashing it in now.”

“That’s not how it works!” 

You laughed. “No, but if I ever actually get arrested I’m using my IOU to get you to bail me out of jail.”

“I don’t think that a kiss and getting bailed out of prison are comparable, but I didn’t put any conditions on that postcard, did I?”

“Nope!” You smiled happily.

“Well that’s on me, so...”

You took the shuttle together to the other side of the airport where the rest of the Hollands were waiting and finally found them with all of your luggage at the furthest carousel from the entrance. 

“It’s about time!” Harry yelled over the crowd as soon as he saw you. 

Sam grinned when he saw you and you couldn’t help but grin back. He wrapped an arm around you instinctively and you relaxed into his shoulder, relieved to be with him again. It hadn’t dawned on you until that moment just how attached you were, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it because the other Hollands were all looking at you expectantly.

“Did everything go okay?” Nikki asked. 

Tom nodded. “They made y/n strip, but it was uneventful otherwise.”

You pursed your lips, cheeks burning. “It was just my sweatshirt!” you hissed to Sam. 

“Yeah, but you never wear anything under your sweatshirts!” Sam hissed back.

“I had a bra on this time.”

“Oh, so it was just another night at the bar for you?” You wrestled yourself out of Sam’s grasp at that and glared. “Am I wrong?”

Sam’s dad cut in before you could respond. He had a habit of calling “family meetings” in the middle of public spaces to finalize plans and get everybody on the same page, which was always an experience. 

“Alright, gather up, gang!” he said, beckoning you all closer. “So we’ll be staying at... this hotel,” he explained and turned his phone around to show you the name of it. “And the thing is, we have two rooms to share between the six of us. One for your mother and I, and another for you four.”

“What?” Sam asked. “You’re going to make us stay with them?”

“I thought we were getting three rooms like every other time,” Tom chimed in.

“We were meant to, but I made a mistake when booking it,” Dom clarified.

“How?”

“The entire website was in Japanese, Sam. I don’t know Japanese!”

“Dad, Google has a translate webpage option!” Harry groaned.

“Well no one told me that while I was booking this entire trip by myself!”

You traded a look with Tom, who looked just as panicked as you felt. But it would only be for a week. You would find a way to manage. You didn’t really have any other option.

“I’m sure it’ll be fun,” Sam tried, forcing a smile.

“That’s the spirit!” Dom cheered. “We’ll make it work.”

sorry she’s short this week :( but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

forever tags: @mischiefmanaged49 @bookingbee @cloverrover @captainbuckyy @perhaps-he-schnapped-blog @awkwardfangirl2014 @the-queen-procrastinator @tastingthestarz @sleepybesson @everythingbooknerd @sunshine96love @bitchymathematician @livingincompletesilence @melsbooktrash @swim-deep-or-die @fizzy828 @spider-slutt @theamuz @nedthegay @astroasethic @stuckonspidey @darlingtholland @sgtbookybarnes @tinyplanet-explorers @mildcockandballtorture @uglypastels @gennyld @devin-marie @r-wooooosh @hell-yeah-peter-parker @itssnowingandimstuckinside @relise-thefury @osteporosis @legendsofwholock @peterunderoos @fuckyeahhomerun @nobelwarriorheroes @delicately-important-trash @thwip-it-real-good @claryfray101 @softholand @tomhollandseverything @cool-ultra-nerd @jillanaholland @dinasaur36 @farfromhaz @hanlons-wp @moon-390 @parkerstylesperalta @httpchrisevans @screeching-student-unknown @almondholland @noisyzineeggsbandit @5sos-microwave @quackson-love @smilealways19 @quackeroos @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @wolvesofwinter @mukesnugget @mytonycinematicuniverse @itsjusttor @percysmcu @peterquillzsblog @lovewolfspirit @biebsmylife95 @a-disappointing-teen-author @justanotherusername80 @b-buckys @sunkisseddreamerr @hufflepuffprincess24 @princessxcryxbaby @tinyyoungblood @holyfrickfracks @amii-nyc @clara-licht @veryholland @captainamirica @ultrunning @cocoamoonmalfoy @nellbellzz-blog @bookfrog242 @honeymoonlover @nellabellaa @its-the-solar-system @spiitfiires @tomhollandfangirl1 @parkeromanoff @randomstufflol29 @pogueslandia @hollandswife @bunnyweasley23 @determined-overthinker @madz-holland @hi-yekaterina @rinaaa334 @elishi03 @abcxrandomx @hiraethenthusiast @marajillana

send me an ask to be added/ removed from a taglist

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Fixed: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 4 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 3: Love So Soft

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s shorter than my usual updates but I’m busy so sorry for the delay. My final exam dates have come and all I can do is pray right now lol. Please pray for me if you can, this sis is out here writing fanfics for yall instead of studying so, haha. ANyways, enjoy babies! Shit happens in this chapter.

Warning: Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Word count: 5K

Chapter 4: Fixed

You didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. Your hands shook every time you got a flashback and even though you were numb to emotions that entire day, tears threatened to spill whenever your mind took to you to that overpriced kitchen again.

Now that he had gone to a dangerous and unnerved assaulter from a Dad trying to take care of his daughter, your mind wouldn’t put anything past him. You knew that in the back of your mind that he was a mobster and your ‘friendship’ was alarming to say the least, but now there was no denying his resources and power and the very obvious threat to your life lingering in the air.

At least before you had the luxury to be oblivious and ignorant, not anymore though. Steve felt even more unhinged and liberal now, even messaging you daily, greeting texts that you obviously ignored. He knew you both were aware that you never handed him your number and he felt no need to hide his pursuit.

You read most of the messages, not bothering with a single reply though. You tried to block him but somehow your phone would still receive messages from his number, even though his contact would always peek back at you from the otherwise empty blacklist.

As if his torment wasn’t ample, another message thread from a different number would forward you alarming images, photos of Grace in her daycare, on a class trip to the park and even her playing in your backyard. You had no doubt that this was another game of his to show you his resources.

You skipped daycare for a few days, your mental health worse than it was after the carnival attack, because now you had a personal tormentor and you cursed yourself for falling into this mess. At times, you believed it wasn’t your fault really, you just helped a kid and this situation spiraled itself but what would pointing fingers now get you? The harsh truth was you were in a calamitous situation now and every step from now on had to be thought out.

So, you let Grace attend her daycare and acted if nothing was amiss or altered, after the few initial breakdown days of course, kept going to your job and earning the bread. You considered your options, you really wanted to go to the cops or a higher fair power but those were few these days, almost non existent in your city. You also vaguely recalled meeting three of the Captains of the PD at Sarah’s birthday, all smiley and doe eyed for Steve. You knew they wouldn’t help, fucking kiss-asses.

Maybe you would have to move somewhere else, perhaps to your hometown, at least till things cooled down or better yet were forgotten? But that trail was very predictable and you didn’t want your parents in this mess.  

You also came to know that Steve had inserted himself in the other spheres of your life. You were sure your location was always being sent to him, the knowledge a courtesy of the black car following you while you travelled to home at some late day’s end.

Aiden told you whereabouts were easy to track, when you inquired ambiguously. Another instance was when you went to the bank to deposit cash for your debit card, you came face to face with an enormous amount already there. Somehow, the limit on your credit card was also extended. How, you knew. The clerk told you about an email you must have gotten in regards to it, you dismissed that justification away and told them to not accept the cash. To sum the discussion, they weren’t helpful and had no policy against anonymous donors.

Aiden, your trusted coworker cum pal, sensed the shift in your aura and fidgety form very easily, pestering you with questions and you decided to turn to him, stressed and tired and ready to do something. His questioning eyebrows made you confess vaguely but you refused to tell him the extent of it. Just that his prediction came true and you needed help. Let’s just say, Aiden was a good man.

With time, Steve’s ‘affectionate’ messages became deranged, and you found it harder to act nonchalant in your daily life. You were thankful he didn’t come to visit you, possibly occupied with the rumored war between the mobs. You just prayed for a few more days of ignorance, just enough time to think and do something.

“What do you mean someone collected her?!” You had a hard time controlling your voice, you were about to burst, in tears or with anger, you didn’t know.

“The man was verified in the emergency contacts and we got a letter signed and approved by you to skip the day an hour into the first activity.”

“A man? Emergen-, wait no! What fucking approved letter?”

You had three emergency contacts, your mom in another state, Aiden, and one of the other kid’s mom you had grown close to. Aiden was with you at work all day, so did someone disguise themselves as him? And what was the deal with the letter signed by you? You surely didn’t remember writing and authorizing one.

The boy, Pietro, who had been the receptionist for as long as you could remember, shuffled through the chaotic piles of paper and presented a letter to you, and your blood froze as your eyes skimmed the font.

Your beautiful cursive stared right back at you and you knew that no one would ever be able to distinguish between this penmanship and the one in the pocketbook in your clutch. No one but you. Even though you knew you had not written it, the slightly different ‘f’ and ‘g’ told you everything.

Your signature at the bottom though, was done quite perfectly and that made you even more scared.

“I did-, I didn’t write this! What the-” Your widened eyes met Pietro’s from above the paper but all he offered you was a meek smile. Your hands shook with rage and for the first time in your life, you had the urge to slap someone really bad.

“Maybe your family had an emergency to take he-”

“No, you don’t get it!” You stopped yourself from getting frantic, willing yourself to take deep breaths and think rationally. Today of all days, things had to mess up.

He didn’t know you had no family in this city, that you had a mobster after you or the subtle threats that his hired spy sent to you.

Was going to the police an option? Aiden already told you that the cops were as good as Steve’s men. But this was about your missing kid! You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her. And you were giving Steve way too much credit, what if he wasn’t behind this all? Come to think of it, what if the other number wasn’t his?

Relax yourself! Thinking of disturbing theories wouldn’t help anyone. You thought you should go to the cops, just in case. No mentioning of Steve, just a woman with a ‘missing child’ report.

‘Missing Child’ left an acrid taste behind and you were too close to a breakdown, but your whole journey of single-parenthood taught you to kick vulnerability aside, well most of the times.

You turned and were about to leave, but Pietro stopped you. “If you are going to the cops Ma’am, they require 8 hours of inactivity or disappearance time for kids under 5.”

Well look who just read your mind.

You huffed and kept the tears at bay, your mind thinking of what to do then? Grace was obviously taken-

“How could you let a toddler leave without informing the parents?” You knew your anger was channeling out at the wrong man but didn’t he all but hand Grace to the stranger?

You beat him answering and inquired, “What did the man look like? Do you have any footage? Anything?” The wrinkles in your forehead and stress creases on your face paired with the eyebags betrayed your age surely. You were sure you had aged more this week than an entire decade, juggling your normal life with the hovering threat.

“You shouldn’t be this worried Ma’am.”

The fucking audacity.

“Your daughter recognized him, she all but ran to him and this other little girl he came with. You should maybe ask your parent-friends around? A blonde family perhaps?”

As all the emotions drained from your face and terror took over, the young lad in front of you looked smug. You wondered as if you imagined the faintest of smirks on his face.

You crumpled the letter in your hands, seething with rage as you stepped in your car. Oh, you were mad, more wrathful than ever. You could take any hits on you, any threat but not on Grace, never on her.

You were stupid, you had already decided you wouldn’t put anything past him but unknowingly, you did put this past him. You thought this man had a shred of decency to not use your kid in this adult war, being a parent himself and all but what a surprise! You were wrong.

You drove to your home, your thoughts a mix of trepidation, anxiety and fury. You were scared of him and his reach and resources but if he put Grace in any type of danger; whether to teach you a lesson or use her as bait or both, there’d be consequences.

Lord knows you killed a man a month ago Grace was threatened.

You had one thing to do before contacting Steve about Grace but you never got to do it because unexpectedly the bastard was in your home. In your home.

The black sports car outside was a huge giveaway but your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door with your house key. The banter and giggles from inside alarmed yet calmed you; the dread of confrontation and the assurance of Grace’s safety reigned your mind.

As the door opened painfully slow like a horror movie, the sight that met your eyes made you sick with a feeling of failure. It wasn’t gore or blood or grunge, it was Steve bouncing Grace in the air and catching her while Sarah twirled around in the living room.  

This man was craftier than you thought, every action of his was calculated, each a refined step. You had been so preoccupied to avoid direct encounters with him in your little family’s life that you didn’t think he had other ways. He was always looming around with Sarah and as Grace began to trust Sarah, she consequently began to trust her blonde guardian too.

As you slammed the door behind you, Steve’s eyes snapped to yours and his smirk made you want to punch him so hard. The smugness on his face while he let Grace down without breaking eye contact told you he had no regret, no remorse. In fact, he was loving every second of this cat and mouse chase between you two.

You were a millimeter close to losing your shit, the only check being the kids in the room. But you were mad and he was going to know it.

“What the hell, Steve? Messing with my kid?” You threw your clutch onto the couch, Steve haughty by the reception of his sent message but still holding back because of the kids. He called Wanda and you didn’t really notice where she came from but you did register Steve asking to take the girls to the park for a ‘private discussion’.

As Grace passed by you, you grabbed her arm lightly, making her look at you with doe eyes resembling yours. You gave her a smile trying to ease her, but you knew she was smart enough to sense the change in the atmosphere.

Apparently, the whining Sarah wasn’t.

You looked back to Steve, your hold still on Grace and continued with a frown and raised eyebrows, “She isn’t going anywhere, not out of my sight and obviously not with you or your goons.”

Wanda had the audacity to look offended and you scoffed at her, eyes staring Steve’s down.

“Honey, I don’t think the kids should hear what I think you have to say right now.” He said nodding to Wanda to take Grace.

“You must be deranged to think I trust Grace near anyone even remotely related to you! Take your people and get out.” You held your hand up to stop Wanda and pointed towards the door with the most menacing glare you could form.

Grace looked incomprehensibly between you two, concern and confusion on her face. That might have been the first time such a tone was used in your household. The grumbling Sarah was close to throwing a tantrum, irritated by the change in the playful air or the lack of attention to her, you didn’t know. She was hanging on Wanda’s forearm, her feet slipping on your printed rug. Wanda was trying to not look hurt still by your previous statement, distracting herself by the blonde kid and you were baffled by her obliviousness to all this.

Steve, the beefy blonde Lucifer, was furious and seething. His white knuckles and ticking jaw were the most obvious giveaways, the fingers just itching to beat the shit out of someone no doubt.

Was he imagining striking you into compliance into his weird playhouse game complex? You wouldn’t be surprised given the extent of his attempt to ‘win’ you over.

The ‘get out’ tone and blatant disrespect was a bruise to his ego for sure, and by you, a middle-class woman nonetheless was a worse injury. Steve was the deadly boss to armored men in the vicinity, the kids’ father figure, according to him, and Wanda’s stern yet kind employer.

People had been killed for less and there you were, standing in all your glory, being the only person alive to reject Steve Rogers and now, the only to raise your voice at him.

You almost scoffed at his impudence to look offended, what did he expect? For you to submit to him after the stunt he pulled? His reach was scary he proved today and that any future with him in your life in any way, was a fearsome possibility to entertain but you’d be damned if you went down without a fight.  

“You can’t make me leave; we both know. You don’t have the physical edge nor the mental one. I have no problem drawing out G-U-N-S in front of the kids or to throw the warnings around, although I would prefer not to.”

Your free hand itched to slap him, like how his did minutes ago. It wasn’t a mankind problem about men thinking they were entitled to everything; it was a Steve Rogers’s problem. Of course, with him consent didn’t matter. If he had a ‘housewife, kids and fences’ fixation, he’d make it come true.

“Do you even listen to what I say? Or your own words even? Please, go ahead! Traumatise my kid and also yours in your wooing process! Why are you so obsessed? Leave us alone, you freak! I just ignored few messages!” You had a hard time maintaining your cool, if there was any left. You were sure you were scaring Grace and no matter what happened next, you knew she was already traumatized by this entire ordeal already. You were so sorry, so, so, so sorry to your poor baby caught in this mess.

You knew, no, you hoped, he wouldn’t pull out the gun, his actions at the carnival a proof, you remembered how he hid his gun on finding Sarah. That threat was empty but the next one wasn’t, his words making you freeze in your spot.

“I think you keep on misunderstanding me, sweetheart. I don’t make empty promises,”

Posh word for threats.

“For starters, maybe I should pay my future in-laws a visit in their blue duplex. They might need help with the vast garden they have, it is the season for ‘violets’, isn’t it?”

As you froze with your parents being brought up, he also cooled, albeit differently, smirking once again gaining the upper hand, not that he lost it if you were being honest.

“Isn’t threatening my kid enough for you, Steve?” You hated how your loud voice almost broke, your anger slowly subsiding into helplessness and you hated that. You hated his guts, his entitlement, his claim; everything about him.

“You still don’t see it, do you? Our family of four is the most important thing to me right now and I���m not above doing anything to save it.”

“There is no family of four Steve! I keep explaining and you keep coming back to square one with all this bullshit!” The curse word did tick Steve off but he would correct that later, when bigger things weren’t at ploy.

“Your ignorance makes me a little mad sometimes sweetheart and that is why I have to do all I do. You haven’t realized we need each other yet, but I’m staying until you do and even after that, I promise. You know how much it pissed me off to see your tickets and the packed suitcases after I’ve been nothing but nice? I was so generous to spoil you with my riches but instead I find that in your finances.”

This fucker knew. Of course, he did!

You were wondering in the back of your head what had prompted this visit with so many threats and warnings and anguish. He was pissed even before you ‘acted out’, he tracked the tickets and the plan and that meant he even tracked-

“You have so much to learn, but luckily you interact with quite a few people. I am most tempted to start out with this Aiden guy, trying to be the hero and giving you all the ideas. Maybe I should visit him?” Steve wondered out loud, and you flinched at his suggestion, hating how you were trapped by this man.

You couldn’t live with yourself if anyone got hurt because of you, be it your parents or Aiden or any other possibility Steve would come up with. Of course, Grace was your peak priority but you doubted he would hurt her as he threatened to harm them.

“Steve, please.” The fire was almost out, your hands trembling, Grace worried and Steve smug.

“Let the kids go and I think we can come to a conclusion.”

“Steve this needs to stop.” You said, your breaths heavy and helplessness clawing away at you.

“I won’t repeat myself.” He voiced out with a threatening edge, gesturing to Grace and Wanda, clearly telling you to first get the kids out.

For a deranged fucktard, he sure cared about the kids a lot.

You loosened your hold on Grace, patting her arm softly and nudged her to Wanda. Wanda received her little hand and enticed the kids with the promise of ice-cream. Sarah clapped her hands and as the trio left, Grace did look over her shoulders at you in concern and for permission, majorly in concern though. You nodded and waved, a tear dropping as soon as the door clicked shut.

You were still staring at the door, not wanting to meet Steve’s stormy blue orbs when he began, “Today was a slip up that I won’t tolerate again. Neither the cursing nor the dramatics.”

We aren’t in a fucking play, what the fuck is he labelling as dramatics?

Your eyes slowly flickered to his, and you had a hard time not letting the tears escape except the one traitorous one earlier. The fatigue, the worry of Grace’s disappearance, the threats to your friends and family were all catching up to you. It took all in you to stay strong and not fall down right now.

“Steve this isn’t funny anymore. It’s sick and you know it! I just said no! Was that so inexcusable that you had to follow up with this? You have violated me for that, broken into my home and now kidnapped my daughter! At what extent will you stop?” You broke down finally, arms a flailing mess as fat tears rolled down. Nothing scared more than the helplessness this moment. He won and he knew it. The carnival incident was nothing in comparison to this. The only good thing you could hope in all this was a safe Grace but that too only if you complied, which seemed like what you would do now given your attempts at fighting back and scampering have failed laughably.

“Gosh, I forgot how theatrical women are. You are smart darling; you know what I want from day one, just a happy family. Nothing that horrendous has happened and especially not as badly as put it. I’m just looking out for you and me in the long run.” Steve slowly treaded towards you, his hand extended to pat your arm comfortingly but you involuntarily flinched at contact and stepped back. Steve clearly didn’t like that as he caught your arm in a bruising grip and jerked you towards him. Manhandling you as your wet hands rushed to ease his grip was not a tough task for Steve, a surprise to none.

“Stop trembling like I’ve actually done something to harm you!”

Steve clearly didn’t know how to comfort women and it showed.

You stopped with the cowering away, even though it disgusted you to be this much in close proximity with your assaulter. He clearly had anger issues and no clue how to solve them. You needed to steer the conversation right and get him out. You could see your hands visibly shake as you put them on his chest, just to create some distance and in a way of surrendering to not fight. The tears slowed but you don’t think they stopped; it was hard to tell with a million other things on your mind.

As your eyes made contact, Steve loosened his grip, clearly a bit satisfied by your submission, as he began counting to help you breathe. As much as you hated to admit, it helped you and you got a flashback to the time when you freaked out on him about Grace at that extravagant dinner date. That was a sweet gesture then, not so sweet now. Funny how drastically things change with time.

It wasn’t so much Steve’s help as it was your own mind telling you to be fucking smart about the whole ordeal right now.

“Good. Better. Now let’s talk. Why were you planning to run away? I’ve been busy and coming home to find out that wasn’t joyful, you know.” His smile suggested a better mood than before but his voice, his husky voice always had this daring edge that almost challenged you to defy him but at the same time warned you of unpleasant consequences if you did.

“Steve, I’m scared.” You spoke with utmost honesty. “The part of the world you associate yourself with scares me. You can’t blame me for not wanting that life for Grace, I mean you have a kid of your own. Wasn’t the carnival attack specifically on Sarah?”

The reasoning was right but you knew you triggered him the moment his smile evaporated. He either felt insulted as a parent or disrespected in his profession or probably both.

He was fighting his inner demons already and you pointing it out was a slap to his face, a hit he didn’t want to take.

“That was a slip up, I admit. Never again. I’m only human, okay?” He convinced himself and you, his grip tightening a bit again.

Oh no, not the right direction to take.

You reckoned he still had nightmares about it like you, he really did love Sarah a lot, all things aside.

“Besides, I am looking out for you! Out for you and Grace and Sarah. I remember my promise of never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

You definitely didn’t trust his security or his people because what sort of a mobster let his daughter get targeted and possibly abducted? You definitely didn’t know the whole story or if it was just a bad day but he wasn’t a person that deserved some slack. Despite all this, you knew what all he held above you, above a common man. He might not be ‘Kingpin’ skilled but a threat to you nonetheless.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Is that what you call following me around, huh?” which you immediately regretted.

“Trust the process, baby. Everything is just to protect you.”

Is that what he called stalking even Grace around and twistedly enough, sending you proof of that? The anonymous thread of photos was another nightmare of yours, thanks to him. The last being a candid photo inside Grace’s room, her sleeping in her bed this morning and that’s when you decided you needed to get out. Of course, that didn’t go as planned.

“How am I supposed to do that when you have cameras in my house?!” You scoffed and he reeled back at the accusation, having the nerve to look impressed at being uncovered and caught red-handed.

“Oh my fucking God, it was you! You sick pervert!” You jumped out of his grip, your eyes wide and horrified. “I wasn’t aware of what to make of it but of course, it was you! Who else would be sick enough to do that?” You let out a humorless chuckle. You always put things past him even when you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. When will you ever learn huh?  

You were full on panicking yet again, this man was an assaulter, a stalker and a creep too. It would have made a good dark, psychological thriller for you to watch if you weren’t the protagonist about to suffer his obsession.

He reached out to steady you again, but you whipped and stumbled back, realizing too late that you elbowed Steve’s nose so bad that there was a crunch. That, right there, was the look a man real-fucking-furious on Steve’s face and now you could see the feared mobster, the man who was personally terrorizing you under the beautiful, Greek God façade.

Steve reacted so fast even with an injury that in a split second, your view of his face turned into a view of his crotch.

“You do realize that there are others ways for me to teach you obedience? I think it’s fucking time you show me your gratitude for my care and attention and apologize for your misconduct and unkind response.” Steve spoke with a hoarse voice, a voice running out of patience and just about done with defiance.

His hand fisted your hair, maintaining eye contact while he nodded between you and his crotch. You knew what he wanted, what he was expecting as ‘thanks’.

“Steve, please no, you don’t-”

His other hand grabbed your jaw, stopping you from speaking as he warned, “I think you have done just enough talking for today, so why don’t you put that tongue to a better use and show me how sorry you are. Better make it convincing because I’d hate to pay one of your friends a visit and then bitch about a nasty blowjob.” He smirked at the end of his monologue, eyes shining with triumph and amusement.

You wouldn’t let him harm anyone else, you couldn’t. You and your daughter were already knee-deep in a pit and at this point, it’d just be cruel to drag someone else in. With shaky hands opening his pants, you just hoped you could get Grace out before you eventually were buried in it.

“Now that’s a good girl. Submissive is a sexy look on you.” His hands patted your hair, playing with your tresses while yours pulled his pants and then briefs down.

His member jerked out, almost slapping you in the face as you recoiled at his insolence to get hard and erect at your torment. Your disdain must have shown which he took as admiration and derision to take his affluent cock in.

“No need to get shy, I have faith you’ll be able take it just as well in your pretty pussy as you will right now. Open up-”

“Steve, I beg you-”

Just as you had cut him off, he interrupted your pleading. Your gag reflex was probably the most efficient in the world but that turned this narcissist on. It had been years since you had done it, never with a man as beefy as Steve.

His taste was salty and if you had to put it into better words, it was the like overpriced sea salt flakes that you never bought. High and pricey and for the entitled.

Your hands clutched at his thighs as you blacked out multiple times; your jaw aching, uvula swaying and tears escaping. Him forcing himself on you brough a new sense of vulnerability as your body trembled. Steve relished like a sadist, practically rutting into you all by himself as you just sat there with your jaw unnaturally open.

His obscene moans and groans were crass and nauseating and you just prayed for this to be over soon and for no one to walk in on this, especially your kid.

It seemed like it would never end, your body dehydrating with all the spit it produced, the drool dribbling and landing just beside your knees on your printed rug. You would have to throw that out.

The tears stooped after some point, the sobbing an unnecessary action that just tired you out more on this eventful day. You moved your tongue around to prevent your teeth from scratching him when he shifted angles. If this was what he did on slightly mad, you didn’t want to find what he did for a more serious punishment.

Apparently, that action was something that turned him on even more, his breath hitching as neared closure. In broken whispers he demanded that again and you complied, wanting to get done with it.

He growled in the moment of his release and you tried to lean back but his grip didn’t relent. “Swallow.” His grainy, exasperated voice said out loud and you knew better than to defy.

He released you and you fell on to the rug, hip bruising by knocking into some furniture and tears coming back again after being hydrated by his seed. He packed himself, his smile smug and content as his expressions truly resembled ecstasy being personified.

“You be a good fiancée from now on and maybe you’ll have all your friends alive and present at our wedding. No cheeky business from now on, got it?” Steve hummed then and strutted out, not even bothering to listen to your reply.

As soon as the door slammed, your eyes closed and your demons danced again.

There was no right direction to take when you were stuck in a loop.  

[vickyvicarious]

I'm curious, what's your mental picture of Eliot's childhood? I've never been sure how to put together the bits and pieces that we get.

Well, first off, these are the pieces we know are fact:

Eliot's dad owned a small hardware shop and wanted Eliot to take it over. They had a big fight when Eliot turned 18 and left for the Army, and haven't spoken since (though he expresses hesitant interest in reconnecting in S5)

Eliot has a sibling (we know because he mentions a nephew)

Eliot was on the football team in high school. I'm pretty sure he was the team captain.

He had a high school sweetheart he exchanged promise rings with before leaving and eventually no longer contacting her

Then there's some other implications/stuff to extrapolate from:

Eliot is very, very attentive to any indication of child abuse

He was also very sensitive to a man and a woman having a screaming argument and was worried there might be children in the house

He has a lot of sympathy for working-class people, with particular focus in episodes that deal with people fighting as a way to control one part of their life when they can't control anything else, and a big everything store coming into town killing off all the small local businesses

Combining the two I have a general sketch in my head of Eliot's childhood:

I think he grew up in a household that, for most of his childhood, wasn't in immediate financial danger, but they did keep track of all the money they spent. They weren't quite rationing all their cash but Eliot definitely worked summer jobs, worked in his dad's shop for no/little pay, etc.

I think his parents had a relationship that was pretty fraught. There was a lot of fighting/screaming fits in the house and around the children, probably getting worse over time. Maybe she eventually left him or died, since Eliot doesn't mention really mention her, but that may have been well after he left home, not sure.

I definitely think he has a sister, not a brother. I tend to think that maybe he had an older sister? But I'm torn on it and she could also be younger.

I think Eliot's dad hit him. Not constantly, more on the end of just sometimes using corporal punishment/spanking kind of thing rather than constant rampant abuse. But I think that there were times, as his parents were really getting into it, that Eliot was scared his dad might hit his mom or even vice versa.

I think that as Eliot got older, maybe high school age, the store started to experience financial difficulties. I headcanon this increasing his dad's stress - along with the fighting with his wife getting worse. He took it out at home and I think Eliot's corporal punishments maybe got a bit harsher or more common. I also think Eliot had a bit of a tendency to make himself more of a target for punishment (not usually physical) or just straight up get into an argument with his dad to distract him from his sister or mom. There may also have been an aspect of the dad not being willing to ever hit a girl but not having issue with some tough love for a son.

Again, not all the time. Not to the point that either of them would straight up call it abuse, necessarily. And not enough to make Eliot doubt his dad's love for him or to totally stop him from wanting to maybe reconnect much later. But enough to give Eliot lasting issues with this kind of stuff and certainly to want to get out of this town and family where he feels stifled.

At the same time, he and his dad had been really close when he was a kid, and maybe even still were most of the time. This was a counter to the frustration and resentment building up; his dad was someone he could rely on and who was proud of him, wanted to teach him what he knew, etc.

In high school he's kinda the man about town, he is popular in school and good at sports and has a girlfriend he loves who is much better off than him financially. It's an escape from the now-constant tension at home.

But he feels tied down, stuck in this town and hates the idea of working with his dad for the rest of his life. He doesn't ever feel free at home, he wants so badly to get out - and he's grown up on certain ideals of manhood and duty to your country etc. so he picks the Army as the best way.

He doesn't tell his dad about his plans until the last minute, right at graduation or on his 18th birthday or maybe even just a few days before he ships out or whatever. He knew it would turn into a fight (they've been arguing more lately, his dad wants him to buckle down and be responsible/take over more at the store) and he didn't want to give his dad the chance to change his mind. Eliot's dad thinks of him leaving as a huge betrayal, especially when the store is not doing well at all and needs all hands on deck. He's been counting on Eliot and Eliot is abandoning him; on Eliot's end he's desperately trying to be his own person and follow his own path in life. They both get into it really bad. Terrible things are said on both sides, Eliot storms out, and they haven't seen one another since.

Eliot and his sister were never really close, despite his possible determination to protect her. Maybe him leaving like that left her in the position of having to take over the hardware shop, and that harmed their relationship too. Still I think they contact one another every so often and he's actually been back to see her family as an adult once or twice. I think either his mother stayed with his dad and they continued to make each other miserable, or she left and didn't really keep in touch with any of them. And of course, Eliot loved his girlfriend Aimee - but he needed to get out of that town more than he wanted to stay with her. At the time she supported his plans to leave and make something of himself before returning to her, but when he changed in the army he no longer felt like he could return to her.

Eliot sent money back home at first, or maybe even for a long time, but his dad did not accept it. (At first, or maybe ever.) At some point his sister made good investments or they cashed Eliot's checks or whatever, but by canon his dad is retired and living decently well now.

I'm definitely open to other interpretations, but this is where my head generally goes.

[seancekitsch]

I was Never Young: A Klaus x Reader fic

Anyways uhhh heres my fic based on the Klaus spin off series!! I made sure not to really spoil anything in the series if u guys haven't finished it yet but it does take place after the series events. there's no smut which is weird for me bc i usually write just smut but like yolo this is where it went.

Klaus had been through the ringer. Los Angeles seems to just be more of the same, so why even leave home? Right, he’d been kicked out and cut off. Well, at least one of those problems has disappeared, he thinks as he pats the ugly little satchel full of money at the side of his hip.

He meanders down the street, no real direction or motive as he shuffles down. The diazepine is starting to wear off, and he’s going to need something to dull the corners of his mind in about an hour. A neon green sign draws his eyes, looks as sick as he’s about to be.

‘Cobra’s’ the sign says, and this one is probably as good as any.

The bar has exactly six people inside of it, he realizes as he pushes the door open. It’s hazy, full of the stale and welcoming scent of menthol tobacco. Perfect, Klaus thinks.

The bartender is a stern looking man, like he used to be a wrestler. Maybe this is what Luther or Diego will look like in thirty years if they don’t eat their wheaties.

There are two other men sitting in a booth by the corner, deep in conversation with one another. They’re boring suits, no one that Klaus could have for company. He’s just looking for someone alive to have a conversation with while he numbs himself. Someone alive, he clarifies to himself. His last friend left for heaven’s greener pastures, which he’s happy for him, but maybe the guy could have stuck around on this plane of existence for a weekend longer.

There’s a couple at the end of the bar that looks like they're on a date. In the middle of the day? Wonder if their spouses know they aren't at work. Klaus laughs out loud, poor bastards.

And then there's you, with your mixed drink, absentmindedly swirling it with your little stirrer. You seem like a safe bet, so his feet drag him over to sit down at the middle of the bar near you. He more or less throws himself into the chair, his feet immediately feeling the relief. He’s still clammy and feverish in the come down, his stomach hurts, but that’s nothing a little booze and sugar can’t help.

You notice the guy as soon as he walks in. Of course you do. After a few years, you start to recognize people even if you don’t know them. You don’t recognize him. He looks paranoid, fresh off a set and worried about what a job will do, for and to him. Poor thing. Probably one of those River Phoenix types. Young, pretty, and overwhelmed.  In teen mags one day, in the obituaries the next. All preventable, hundreds of people that could step in if money meant more than the people around you.

“Hey,” the guy next to you greets you, his voice uneven, watery and cautious. His hands shake a little as he pulls a stack of cash out of his threadbare satchel, pulling a few bills from the rubberband holding it together and flattening them out against the bar.

“Hey, yourself. You new here?” He looks surprised as the words leave your lips, but is interrupted by the bartender approaching.

“Yeah, whatever that special is for today, that’ll do,” he orders like he doesn't really know what to do at the bar. He turns back to you, looking ever so boyish and lost with his big green eyes.

“How did you-?”

“How did I know you're new here?” You throw the rest of your drink back, carelessly placing it at the far end of the bar from you, “Because you don't look absolutely beaten down. I mean, you look a little twitchy, but you look fresh.”

Fresh? That’s not at all how Klaus would describe his look, having not slept in days and having been using an extreme amount of controlled substances, even for his standards.

The bartender slides a glass towards him, and he scrambles to catch it. There’s a total of two umbrellas, a flamingo stirrer, and two straws in it. In all, garish and hard to look at. The bartender takes the money, and they nod at each other.

“You look kinda young to be here,” with that remark, Klaus takes a long sip of the fruity cocktail he ordered, a sickening blue color so intense you bet it could substitute as hair dye.

“You do too,” you quip. You’d been working in this town for a few years now, on and off movie sets and bartending clubs with live acts. This boy? He looked fresh. Like he’s just been taken for his first ride. He looked rough and unused to it.

“How old are you?” he asks,  he can’t place your age or accent. You look just as young as him, if not younger. You sound southern- Boston- Chicago- western and somewhere European he can’t place. Is that what Hollywood does to people's speech patterns? Is that gonna happen to him? But you seem to be as much an anomaly here as he does.

“How old are you?” you mimic back.

Klaus stares in awe as you rest your elbow against the bar, making sure he sees that as you snap your fingers, a cigarette materializes between them. You quickly shift the rolled tobacco to rest between your index and middle finger, ready to place it against your lips.

“Listen, I’m old enough.” That's all you have to say about that.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “Sometimes I think I was never young.”

You exhale sharply through your nose, the hint of a laugh.

“Yeah, alright.” You fish around in your jacket pocket for the lighter and ask, “Do you wanna get out of here? Only smoking bar in town, but it ain’t got hotdogs.”

Hotdogs, Klaus thinks, He remembers having sausage back home, but he’s never had a hotdog.

“Why are you lookin’ at me like that? You never been to a baseball game or something?”

He shook his head, no. Klaus hadn’t ever seen a baseball game. He knew the history of it, the impact it had on American society. All from a very clinical and academic standpoint. Sports weren’t really his thing.

“Nah, I always preferred activities with a bit more... uh, substance.” He laughs at his own joke, whether you get it or not really doesn’t matter.

“Right, right. So River, what’s your real name?” You talk with the cigarette but between your teeth, lighting it quickly, before the lighter in your hand vanishes from sight.

“It’s….. uh, It’s Klaus.”

You give him your name, and he repeats it, tests the name out on his tongue.

You take a deep inhale, blowing the smoke out of the corner of your mouth.

“So Klaus, wanna buy us some hotdogs?”

You leave as soon as he finishes his drink, and he talks in a way that he thinks might be too much. But you listen. You’re the first living person that’s actually listened to what he had to say since he got here. He asks about you, your story, but he doesn’t get as much as he wants. You like your smoking, you’re a special effects designer, you dropped out of high school to come out here, and you fucking love Alonzo’s hotdogs.

“Hey ‘Lonzo!” you shout, interrupting Klaus mis sentence, raising both arms above your head, the baggy sleeves of your jacket falling closer to your elbows.

“How’s my kid doin?” The man shouts back. A tall man, with heavy brows and a mustache. “And who’s this?”

“My friend Klaus here just directed a movie! With Vivian Clarke, and the kid’s never had a hotdog! Can you believe it!” Your footfalls come quicker, starting to jog as you clear the end of the block, Klaus starts to shuffle quicker to catch up. When he gets to see the man up close. clear chocolate brown eyes greet him. He looks pretty trustworthy, Klaus thinks, Like Santa Claus, or John Stamos. Basically, like anyone but Dad or Viv.

Alonzo asks all about Klaus’ recent accomplishment, not exactly something he wants to talk about, but he likes that Alonzo is genuinely curious and polite. The only thing you say is “extra relish, on both. Big shot director pays.” during the conversation, focusing more on finishing your cigarette and stubbing it out with the toe of your boot. Klaus looks down and the cigarette butt leaves no trace on the concrete.

“So back there,” he says as you wait for your dogs to be handed over, “That cigarette business, are you a magician?”

“Nah,” you say, not fully meeting his gaze, “I’m a Libra.”

You nod at the guy as he finally pulls the dogs over the edge of the cart he operates. Extra relish, just like you asked. When he places the hotdog in Klaus’ hands, the redhead’s eyes go wide. Guess he wasn’t kidding about never having relish, you think.

“Huh,” he starts, dumbfounded by the hunk of grease and meat and relish in his hands, “I’m a Libra too, actually.”

“Guess that’s something about balance or something,” you say, effectively ending the conversation again by opening your mouth as wide as you can to accommodate the sheer mass of one of Alonzo’s hotdogs.

He looks at the meal, his first and probably only for today, and then takes your lead, opening his mouth as wide as he can before finally chomping down on a huge bite of it. The bite is… heavenly. Pickled vegetables and chutneys exploding on his tastebuds, the coolness of it contrasting with the fresh off the grill meat. No offense to mom or Pogo, but none of their cooking could ever hold a candle to this street hotdog.

“Good, yeah?” Your voice, distorted by a mouth full of food, breaks his almost nirvana like trance.

“So good,” he tries to say, mouth just as full as yours. He finishes chewing, swallows with a huge gulp.

“You got any more food spots to show me?”

[footballfanfictions]

The thrill of the chase - Chapter Two

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Authors Note: Sorry that this has taken a little longer than anticipated and thank you so much for all the love for the first part.

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

One of the main drawbacks of working with social media, is that you are always on social media and you’re constantly bombarded with information and images that make you feel downright crap about yourself.

I’d been asked to take over the instagram page of one of the high profile players at the club and his entire feed was just one supermodel and influencer after the other with the odd footballer thrown in to balance it out. They were all so stunning that it truly made me feel awful about myself, how could it not? My salary was pretty good for a new graduate but not quite good enough for weekly manicures, lip fillers and hair extensions and my time management wouldn’t stretch for that either, I barely made my eyebrow wax appointments.

I was trying to avoid looking at the player’s DMs while I posted a few pictures from the pre-season training sessions to his feed, but the notifications pinging every few minutes was getting quite annoying.

Has it been Brianna with access to his account and not me, she would have gone straight to his messages to read them. I preferred to live in blissful ignorance to the sleazy ways of the men around me. I already felt like finding a good guy was absolutely hopeless.

I had been renting a flat and I was saving for a deposit to buy a house, hoping that by the time I had saved up enough to buy that I would have found the right person to live with. If I were to attempt this alone, with London house prices I would be around  60 by the time I had saved enough alone.

The message notifications continued to come in and whoever Sam was, she was really keen.

I logged out after posting the final image and prayed I wouldn’t have to go into it again. The less I knew about their private lives, the better. It would be pretty awkward to be sat in the staff and players’ family box at a game knowing that the wife of someone I knew was cheating was close by. Best to steer clear of those complications.

Brianna hadn’t visited my office at all and by 12 I was both worried and hungry and decided to go looking for her.

I tried the kit room first but it was empty and surprisingly tidy. Dave kept a tight ship and liked everything to be in its place but it wasn’t often possible with the sheer volume of kits that needed to be looked after.

As I backed out of the kit room and closed the door, I felt something hit me in the back.

“Sorry” mumbled the voice from behind me. “I was looking for Dave, I need a new top.”

I knew who it was but I didn’t really want to turn around and look at him.

“They’re not in there, I was just looking for him and Brianna too.” I responded in an emotionless tone, shrugging.

“Why are you being so weird?” he asked.

I turned to face him then and gave him a look of contempt before I answered him. “Maybe I just don’t enjoy spending time around footballers?”

“No offence love, but I think you might be in the wrong job if that is the case.” he put his hand on the door, next to my head where I was practically pinned against the door by how close he was to me. Only then did I realise that the training top that he was wearing was ripped, front he shoulder to his navel, the material hanging and exposing his toned chest and abs. I tried to look away but he had caught me looking and was now smirking.

“Maybe it’s just you that puts me off.” I shrugged as I ducked under his arm, escaping from my position between him and the door.

“You really don’t like me?” He huffed. “I don’t remember doing anything to offend you personally.”

“Maybe I’m offended that privileged young lads get money, fame and praise just for kicking a ball around a muddy field. Try something more impressive, like curing cancer or performing life saving surgery, ending world hunger, ending wars.” I groaned in frustration. Maybe that was the truth of it. Why should he get all the praise and admiration that he got, just for playing a sport? There were so many incredible people in the world doing, or working towards the things in that list that never got half the praise that Mason Mount did for kicking a ball.

He looked a bit dumb struck.

I went in again, “Maybe I don’t like you assuming that I should be into you, just because you’re Mason Mount, England and Chelsea midfielder. Maybe that’s what the girls in the club that throw themselves at your feet are into, but it’s not for me.”

I made to leave and he grabbed my hand and mumbled, “Sorry, I’ll leave you alone from now on.”

I didn’t respond. Just pulled my hand from his and stormed off towards the boot room, leaving him outside of the kit room in his ripped shirt.

“Fuck it smells like feet in here.” I complained, walking into the boot room with my nose pinched between my fingers in disgust.

“When I said that I liked shoes to dad, this is not what I meant.” Brianna laughed.

“What are you doing in here, I didn’t think boots were part of your job?” I asked, perching on one of the benches while Bri sat on the floor, sorting through a massive pile of boots to try and match up the pairs. They were in all sorts of bright colours and differing sizes. If I had to guess, I’d guess that she had been at her task for hours.

“Dad and the boot guy had some sort of emergency” she shrugged.

I laughed at that, wondering what kind of emergency you could have that involved kits and boots. Maybe they hadn’t ordered the right brand or something and one of the stars wasn’t going to get his cash from his boot deal if they didn’t find him the right pair.

There was a little tap on the sliding glass door that lead out onto the pitches and stood there was the guy from the other day that had held the door to the cafeteria open for us. He looked a little sheepish.

“Are you going to let him in?” I asked Bri, trying to unbury her from the pile of boots by throwing some of them into a pile, all of the orange ones in one corner, the yellow in another pile and pink in another and so on.

“Oh yeah.” she said, standing and brushing herself off, and adjusting her skirt that rode up her thighs slightly. The guy had noticed and I watched as he tried to look away and then down at his feet. At first I hadn’t thought that his shyness was that genuine. Footballers were all confident cocky little shits in my book, I’d never met one that was shy and unsure of himself.

Bri unlocked the door and let him in.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but only one of these fits” he said, holding up a pair of lime green boots and giving Bri an apologetic smile.

“Oh shit” she said, taking the pair from him and inspecting them. “I’ve given you one 10 and one 9.5.” she looked through the pile of lime green boots until she said “aha!” triumphantly brandishing another size 10 boot. “Here you go my love.”

That as just Bri’s way, she called everyone little pet names all the time, but he didn’t know that and he was blushing profusely and I was almost certain that his hands were shaking as he laced the boots up.

“Thank you so much.” he mumbled, looking like he was about to die of embarrassment. He turned to walk back out of the sliding door, but hadn’t realised that Bri had shut it behind him, so he ended up walking straight into the glass, hitting it with enough force to emmit a cracking noise from his nose which was suddenly streaming with blood.

I jumped up from my seat and crossed the room to him, avoiding the piles of boots the best that I could, not wanting to add myself to the casualty list.

I had an unused tissue in my pocket, that I took out and pressed to his nose. It was instantly bright red and the blood poured straight through it.

“Bri can you go and warn the medical room that we need to bring him down?” I asked.

She nodded in agreement and rushed out of the room.

I put my arm around his waist and guided him back over to the benches. He sat down and I slipped my cardigan off. It was a very thin material and already a deep shade of red. I didn’t let him protest as I replaced the tissue with my cardigan. It was the best that we had, and he looked like he was in a lot of pain.

“I’ve never seen anyone get that flustered before.” i laughed, sitting down beside him. He managed to give me a pained grin.

‘It’s Bri isn’t it? Is she why you were waiting by the canteen door the other day?” I asked gently, patting him reassuringly on the back. “I wanted to send her out of the room so that I could ask you, and also to reassure you that you shouldn’t be embarrassed about this. I’ve seen Bri do a lot more embarrassing things. She’s always falling over and hurting herself. You would make quite the pair.” I laughed.

He shook his head and mumbled “I can’t ask her out”.

“Why the hell not?” i scoffed.

“She has a boyfriend doesn’t she?” he shrugged, looking really sombre.

“Ah no, not anymore. Things are definitely over between her and that prick, and between you and me, if she ever gets back together with him, I’ll give her a matching broken nose.” I bumped shoulders with his, trying to cheer him up, just as Bri came back into the room and told us that the medical room were waiting for him.

“Can you come with me?” he asked, not talking to Bri, but to me instead.

“Sure, I would do anything to get out of work this afternoon. Our twitter page today is just full of fans that are disappointed that we didn’t use the Hazard money to sign Messi.” I laughed, getting up and guiding him towards the door.

“Can we catch up later?” I asked Bri before leaving the room, she nodded and told me she would be free all evening.

As we walked down the corridor I said to him “See, no plans to see a boyfriend” and he blushed again.

One of the medical assistants rushed out to meet us and guided him into the room exclaiming “Billy, what the hell? How have you done that?”

He shrugged, clearly feeling embarrassed about how he had injured himself. So when they looked over at me for clarification, I shrugged too.

Billy wasn’t the only player needing the use of the treatment room. As he sat down on one of the chairs, I noticed that Ben was in there too.

The medic went about dabbing Billy’s nose and he cried out in pain.

“Sorry about your cardigan.” he said, looking down at the red material on his lap. He didn’t need it now that he was getting patched up.

“Honestly don’t worry about it Billy.” I grinned.

The medic then mumbled something about needing something and left the room.

That gave Billy a bit more confidence to talk about what had happened.

“And thank you for the advice about your friend.” Billy seemed a bit happier as he said that, and I could see Ben out of the corner of my eye looking over at us as Billy spoke.

“Please tell me you’re going to ask her out!” Ben laughed.

I turned to look at him and smiled. “You know?”

Ben nodded and looked at Billy with a horrified expression “Oh god, you asked her out and she punched you.”

I shook my head. “Not exactly.” I said.

“The boyfriend was here for some reason, and he punched you?’ Ben went on, standing up and coming over to Billy. He walked with a slight limp.

He stood in between us.

“Why are you in here if you don’t mind me asking?” I looked down at his leg while asking the question.

“It’s my hamstring, nothing too serious.” He smiled.

“Don’t laugh at me when I tell you how I did this.” Billy warned, pointing at his nose. “I walked into a sliding glass door that I thought was open, all because she gave me a pair of boots and called me love.” he groaned, covering his face in embarrassment.

Ben laughed and clapped Billy on the back with his hand. “Oh mate, no wonder you’re embarrassed.” he then addressed me, asking “Just how cringy was it?”

I shook my head before answering him, “I honestly don’t think it was that bad. Bri is pretty oblivious sometimes and I don’t actually think she realised the real reason for you hurting yourself. So if you were to pluck up the courage to speak to her, I wouldn’t even bring it up.”

_________________________________________________________

The next day, I was looking out at the training pitches while I waited for the coffee machine to finish making my drink when there was a gentle tap on my door.

I crossed the room and opened it, expecting it to Bri or maybe even the club photographer giving me some new pictures of the squad to use, but it was Ben.

“Hi, are you free?” he asked, giving me one of his sweet smiles.

“Yeah come in.” I said, stepping back into my office and letting him pass me so that I could hold the door open.

“That coffee smells nice”. He remarked.

“Do you want one? Or did I put you off the other day?” I smiled.

“Ah no thanks, and no you didn’t put me off. I’ve never really liked the stuff. I like the smell of coffee, it just doesn’t taste as good as it smells.” as he spoke I realised that he was holding something in a plastic bag.

He realised that I was looking at it. “It’s your cardigan. I washed it for you at home. Think I got all the blood out but it’s red so I can’t really tell.”

I was for once, speechless. It was a small gesture but it was really kind all the same. I thought about making a witty remark about it actually being his mother or an employed cleaner that washed it for him but I just couldn’t bring myself to.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. It’s only an old primark cardigan.” I said, taking the bag from him.

I suddenly felt a bit flustered in his company. He had that charming smile and didn’t really look like a cocky footballer to me. He didn’t act like one much either, he was just kind of like the guy next door, or the guy you would see on Tinder with a picture of him with his mates at the only photo on the profile so you couldn’t tell which one you were swiping for.

In all honesty, he kind of reminded me of my ex boyfriend Rory. He had the same sort of look, and they had similar accents. Maybe it was nostalgia that made me find being around Ben comforting.

‘I think your coffee is done.” he said, gesturing to the machine.

I nodded and walked over to the machine, taking the cup and adding some creamer and sugar. As I stirred the cup, he leant against my desk and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Something is bothering me if I’m honest.” he said.

“What is it?” I asked curiously.

“Mason said that you told him that you hate all footballers because we’re privileged and get too much clout for what we do.” He looked slightly disappointed in me. “Thing is, I don’t entirely disagree with you. Maybe we do get paid too much for what we do, and maybe doctors and nurses deserve way more praise than we do. I also don’t think that you hate all footballers. You were really kind to Blly yesterday and he won’t forget that in a hurry. You really helped him.” he continued.

“I don’t hate Billy, and I don’t think I hate you either.” I said quietly, taking a sip of my coffee.

“That is interesting.” he grinned, as he took one of my hands and guided me over to him, to stand in between his legs where he now sat on the edge of my desk.

Instinctively I put my coffee cup down and he put his arms around my waist.

“It’s interesting?-” he cut me off before I could say anything else, by pressing his lips against mine. The kiss is soft and gentle and lasts only a few seconds. He testing me and my brain is going in so many different directions. Am I actually going back on all of my principles and kissing a fucking footballer right now? And am I only doing it because he reminds me of my ex?

He moves to pull away, breaking the contact between our lips and I let out the tiniest whimper before putting my hand on the back of his head and pulling him back in for more. This time his tongue slips past my parted lips. My hand at the back of his head grips a generous handful of his hair and one of his hands makes its way to my bum.

My body feels like it is on fire. It has been a bloody long time since anyone kissed or touched me, and I hadn’t quite realised just how starved of affection I had been until I got a taste of it, a taste of him.

The telephone on my desk started to ring,and although I tried to ignore it, I just couldn’t. My job meant a lot to me and if it were Marina or someone of equal importance I would be chastised for missing the call.

We broke the kiss at the same time and I apologised to him. He grinned and fired back that I didn’t need to apologise and that he needed to get back to training, and by the time I picked up the phone, he was gone.

[bossbex]

5x05 Reaction

WOW it’s been a while since I did an episode reaction post.  I’M EXCITED ABOUT THIS SHOW AGAIN!!!

The bughead walk home.  I liked this! I liked how it was awkward.  WHAT WAS IN THE VOICEMAIL??? Does Jughead even know what’s in the voicemail? 

Varchie walk home.  Cute! Friendly.  Was getting zero romantic, or even tense vibes.  He tells her that he hasn’t been in a relationship since her, which completely makes sense considering he’s been in the army since high school.  He didn’t say he hasn’t been with anyone, just that he hasn’t been in a relationship.  

Ok how old are the twins? Shouldn’t they be like 10? Alice is talking about them like they’re babies lmao “shhh, I just got them down”

Poor sad Jug.  I actually really like this turn for him... reminds me of S1 Jughead which was honestly the last time I really loved his character?? And obviously they are setting him up to be at his lowest so he can only go up from here (with a few bumps, probably) 

Kevin and Betty friendship YES!!! HOW is Betty only going through Charles’ stuff NOW, 7 years later after he was discovered to be a serial killer? I know it’s obviously just so she can play the Polly tape which is relevant to the plot of this episode and we shouldn’t be asking more questions but COME ON

Veronica and Hiram... this seems... repetitive... but I liked what happened with her character by the end of this episode. 

BOSS TONI I AM OBSESSED!!! And I love that they are all mad about his book, it’s great.  “You mean, the Vipers?” LMAO

AND MORE BOSS TONI!!! THEY’VE BEEN WASTING HER FOR 3 SEASONS SHE IS AMAZING

And Archie back to savior mode, we love to see it.  

Jugitha? Tabhead? I like their banter.  I’m into it.  I’m just really hoping that they don’t use another WOC as a plot device for Jughead to get back with Betty. If it happens, make it meaningful.  

MORE BOSS TONI!!! I love that Toni has never once strayed from her morals... no amount of money is going to make her screw over a bunch of students and work for Hiram lodge. 

“It used to be Kevin and I would sneak peaks through that window, hoping you were shirtless” BETTY YOU ARE SHAMELESS (also I absolutely LOVE a pilot reference) 

Wtf is Reggie doing.  Will he have a redemption arc? I really hope so! Like that he was blackmailed into working for Hiram and he is protecting his family in some way? Or something? Or maybe they have decided that he’s just “bad” now.  His hair is certainly bad...

Ok so Veronica is looking at getting a job as a... sports agent?? In LA?? Ok, Riverdale.  Sure.  And I guess she’s just done with Chad? Which ok, sure, that guy’s awful.  

SMITHERS LIVES!!!!!!!!!!

Lmao of course Monica Posh is back.  And this guy just casually has $30K cash laying around? Sounds legit.  

Ok I really thought the Betty gun scene was going to be Archie but turns out it’s Polly! Which I am happy to see!!! So it seems like Alice and Polly are bitter with Betty for “abandoning” them... which like, I don’t think that going to school and getting a job in a different state is “abandoning” your family.  But it does sound like Betty doesn’t call much and basically hasn’t been back to Riverdale since she left for college? Which is like... kinda shitty.  I wonder if that will be delved into a bit more.  Oh, who am I kidding, I know what show I’m watching.  

Toni at the Cooper house? Toni and Alice team up?? We love to see it!!!  

Ok Jughead lying about staying at the 5 seasons and actually staying in the bunker is just the saddest thing ever.  

Ok, I LOVE Tabitha?? “I think I’d remember a weird-ass name like that” LMAO. I Also love that she called the guy “pumpkin” in response to him calling her “sweetie” lol.  So good.  

Veggie comeback?? I miss them!!! But his hair... I can’t get past his hair. 

I actually love this plot point with Polly being involved with the Ghoulies and that being what gets Betty passionate about the raid (she had already offered help but now she’s IN)

The Betty and Archie arm touch? “You good?” I CAN’T

Can Kevin ever say a line without being interrupted? That’s just a running gag now lol.  I did enjoy the Succession reference though.  AND MORE BOSS TONI like seriously it’s so good.  

Ok I love how the plot point of Riverdale “going private” exists solely to allow all the main characters to become teachers there without having any teaching qualifications whatsoever LMAO.  Sure yes ok.  

I feel like Veronica should be asking her mom for help with Chad and not her dad? Wouldn’t she be more experienced in that side of things? Oh wait, we’re not supposed to ask questions about logic of storylines.  I do like the Hiram refused her help and brought up the scene “7 years ago” where she compared him to a dog, lol.  

Ok I feel like Betty is justified in questioning Polly about lying about where she’s working at the drugs (and since when has she ever done anything sensitively or discreetly?) and Polly is also justified in being defensive about it and thinking it’s none of Betty’s business since she hasn’t been around.  You know who’s business it IS, though? ALICE’S!!! Maybe Alice is overcompensating for sending Polly to SoQM years ago but she is all kinds of enabling her now.  

BARCHIEEEEEEEEEEEEE I could write a whole post on this.  Maybe I should? THE TENSION!! THE AKWARDNESS!!! “Cool” ---ARCHIE WAS SO NERVOUS WITH HER!!! THE SHOWER!!! OF COURSE BETTY CAN’T GO NEXT DOOR AND SHOWER AT HOME THAT WOULD BE TOO LOGICAL!!! THE LOOK THEY GIVE EACH OTHER THEY BOTH JUST FUCKING KNOW!!! THAT WAS SUCH A LONG AND EXPLICIT SEX SCENE FOR THE CW!!!!!! I KNEW IT WAS COMING FROM THE PROMO BUT I WAS STILL NOT READY!!!

Ok I’ve caught my breath... thoughts on this: 

This was LONG overdue.  I thought it was perfect.  They are adults, they both wanted each other, there was absolutely nothing in their way, and the show made sure that there was NO ambiguity about what they were doing.  They fucked in the shower, that’s it.  Some other notes - Betty twice in this episode talks about how Archie hasn’t changed - he is STILL the boy she has loved since she was a kid.

AND THEN THE CONVERSATION IMMEDIATELY AFTER!!! This show would normally not even have the characters address it.  We would have gone straight to the Pop’s scene with no discussion. “Something we’ve been wanting to do since high school but never got around to” I SCREAMED.  And their SMILES they are both so happy. I LOVED THIS!!! So we’re getting FWB barchie, great, I’m here for it.  You can see though, by both of their expressions, it’s more than that for both of them.  BETTY’S LIP BITE AT THE END GIRL IS IN LOOOOOVE

Jug’s speech at the retirement party was really good.  

Ok this Choni scene is just lovely.  They are both so soft I’M CRYING. “If our love ever meant anything to you, help us” SOB. 

Betty is the first one to agree to help Archie, noted.

Uh oh, Jughead is going to get in trouble again for writing about all his friends.  Or will he dig his way out of this? 

One last barchie moment TEXTING they are SICK

Jughead and Archie roomies!!! I love this!!! So much potential for tension and akwardness!! 

TL;DR - this episode was GREAT, barchie is HOT, and Toni is BOSS, this dynamic change up was NEEDED

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,835 Words

Summary: Off to a chaotic start, I see. Bakugou gets dared to start a 1-A group chat. The beginnings, Shinsou gains a father figure, and the bakusquad is chaotic.

Warnings: Dead Body Mention, Death Mention, Cursing, Anxiety Attack Mention, Caps, Mental Breakdown Mention, Fire Mention, Choking Mention, Injury Mention, Murder Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Notes: Shigaraki's alias in the group chat is Ren and Dabi's alias is Haruhi. ¥11,055 is about $100 and ¥110,550 is about $1,000 on the day I wrote this.

Usernames: Area 51   Ashido: aggressive chicken dance, Kaminari: pikachoo, Kirishima: ordained, Jirou: neko neko kneecaps, Sero: wine and cheerios, Bakugou: mother i crave violence, Shinsou: its a mental breakdown

Usernames: Emo Sanctuary  Jirou: tell tale heart, Tokoyami: eldritch peep, Todoroki: i love you 3000, Bakugou: knife tag, Midoriya: bitchasaurus, Shinsou: unhappy meal, Kuroiro: meth and deadamine, Shigaraki: depresso extra shot, Dabi: *sad kazoo*

Into The Group Chat We Go: Chapter 1

1:45 AM

Emo Sanctuary

i love you 3000: I require attention.

unhappy meal: is that so?

i love you 3000: Yes, it is, otherwise I wouldn't have said it.

unhappy meal: @bitchasaurus, your man is sad.

bitchasaurus: He's not my man, Shinsou. Pretty sure he's no one's man, actually. And it's not like I'd have time for a relationship anyway.

i love you 3000: True. I'm not in a relationship.

unhappy meal: regardless, get your friend. the man wants attention.

bitchasaurus and i love you 3000 are now offline

*sad kazoo*: I dare someone to start a group chat with 1a and say something weird.

knife tag: Would I get paid for this?

*sad kazoo*: I'll give you anywhere from 11,05 yen to 110,550 yen.

knife tag: Deal.

2:00 AM

Bakugou has started a group chat

Bakugou has added Hanta, Mina, Eijiro, Denki, and 15 others to the chat

Bakugou has renamed the group chat to Area 51

Bakugou: His body is ready to be taxidermied. It's what Shinsou would've wanted.

Sero: What the fucketh?

Aoyama: Quoi?

Midoriya is now online

Midoriya: You didn't add Shinsou, you ass.

Bakugou: Oops, fuck.

Bakugou has added Shinsou to Area 51

Shinsou: hi I guess.

Aoyama: So your corpse is not being stuffed by Bakugou at the moment?

Shinsou: I mean, he can always taxidermy me while I'm alive. it's not like I'd stop him.

Midoriya: He's not. Kacchan was dared with cash to start this group chat and say something weird. Goodnight, filthy heathens.

Midoriya is now offline

Ojiro: Wow, Midoriya isn't messing around.

Aoyama: I feel ✨insulted✨ being called a filthy heathen.

Ojiro: I mean, it is an insult, Aoyama.

Aoyama: Yes, Ojiro, I understood that.

Sero: Why on earth are you two awake?

Ojiro: Because I can't sleep?

Aoyama: I got hungry.

Sero: Well, go to bed.

2:15 AM

Emo Sanctuary

knife tag: It's done.

knife tag: chatscreenshot.jpg

*sad kazoo* has sent a money transfer to knife tag

*sad kazoo*: Your money's pending to whatever card is attached to your number.

knife tag: moneytransferscreenshot.jpg

eldritch peep: wow, you really sent him 11,055 yen?

knife tag: This man's out here fueling my savings since UA instituted the no job rule since the dorms went into effect.

unhappy meal: they instituted a no job rule!? that's why I got that paper!? I thought that was a joke!

*sad kazoo*: Better put in a two weeks, kid.

unhappy meal: I literally can't. if I don't work, I don't have a way of feeding myself!

*sad kazoo*: Can't you ask your parents to send you food money, Toshi?

unhappy meal: okay, Haruhi, I know you weren't here when we started this chat with just me, Katsuki, Shouto, and Izuku so you don't know but I literally don't have parents, man. I lived in an orphanage until the beginning of the school year and, after I got in, I began renting an apartment near the school so I could attend. which means I'll lose my apartment where my cat and dog stay and it has all my stuff in it too.

tell tale heart: He's having an anxiety attack, someone go get him. I don't know where his room is.

meth and deadamine: I'll check on him.

knife tag: On my way.

eldritch peep: I'm coming, hold on.

*sad kazoo*: I've finally become a father at 28. I knew this shit would happen eventually.

*sad kazoo* has sent a money transfer to unhappy meal

*sad kazoo*: That's your monthly allowance. Do whatever you want, kid.

unhappy meal: I'm gonna cry.

unhappy meal: moneytransferscreenshot.jpg

meth and deadmine: You got 110,550 yen!? Haruhi out here paying kids to exist.

*sad kazoo*: That sounds weird, don't say that. I'm here because I'm Ren's best friend and Ren is Izuku's brother. I've effectively adopted both Katsuki and Hitoshi, I'm not sending random kids money for no reason, they're my sons.

eldritch peep: Ignore him, Kuroiro likes making things sound weird. How does it feel to be a father, Haruhi?

*sad kazoo*: Fatherhood? Guess that means I need to shape up and be a dad, huh?

eldritch peep: Step the fuck up, Haruhi.

*sad kazoo*:  I am, I am. Toshi, kid, don't cry or whatever, everything's gonna be fine.

unhappy meal: thanks, dad.

*sad kazoo*: My heart hurts. Why does it hurt? What the fuck is this feeling?

knife tag: It's called pride. It's because you're happy.

*sad kazoo*: This child is mine now, I'm going to find a way to legally adopt you.

unhappy meal: that would actually be really cool if you did.

*sad kazoo*: Looks like I'm re-evaluating my life tonight so I can make it hospitable for a son. I'm gonna go see if I can figure out how to fix some shit. Night, kids.

knife tag: hitoshicryingabouthavingadadnow.vid

Transcript Begin

"Hito, it's okay." -eldritch peep

"I have a dad now, Fumi." -unhappy meal

"We know, Shinsou." -meth and deadamine

"I have a dad." -unhappy meal

"Time to sleep, Toshi." -knife tag

"Okay. Time to sleep." -unhappy meal

Transcript End

*sad kazoo*: I love my son. Take care of him.

8:25 AM

Area 51

Ashido: ALERT- MY ALARMS DIDN'T GO OFF, PLEASE STALL AIZAWA FOR ABOUT TEN MINUTES

this message has been marked as an emergency

Shinsou: On it.

8:40 AM

Area 51

Ashido: What'd you do to distract him, Shinsou?

Shinsou: Oh, gave myself an anxiety attack.

Ashido: SHINSOU!

Shinsou: It was an emergency! You'd be in detention right now if I hadn't. plus I had one last night too so it wasn't hard to do.

Ashido: Shinsou, don't ever do that for me again but thank you. You're getting big bakusquad hugs at lunch.

Shinsou: It's not like it was difficult. I got lots to break down about.

Ashido: Me too, bitch.

4:00 PM

Area 51

Shinsou has changed their name to its a mental breakdown

Ashido: Oh my god, Shinsou.

its a mental breakdown: I figured while I'm at it.

Ashido: Speaking of at it.

Ashido has changed Kaminari's name to pikachoo

Ashido has changed Jirou's name to neko neko kneecaps

Ashido has changed Sero's name to wine and cheerios

Ashido has changed Bakugou's name to mother i crave violence

Ashido has changed their name to aggressive chicken dance

Kirishima: Could you not think of one for me?

aggressive chicken dance: More like can't decide.

Kirishima has changed their name to ordained

pikachoo: You're ordained, Kiri?

ordained: Yeah. I got ordained for my moms' wedding in a few months.

pikachoo: So cool, dude.

ordained: Oh, Shinsou, dude, you said you had an anxiety attack last night, you good, man?

its a mental breakdown: one sec.

4:05 PM

Emo Sanctuary

unhappy meal: can I talk about it, Zuku?

bitchasaurus: Yeah, why not? Because it involves Ren? It's not a big deal, Hitoshi!

unhappy meal: just making sure, some people don't like their personal lives talked about by other people.

bitchasaurus: I don't mind, Hitoshi.

4:09 PM

Area 51

its a mental breakdown: alright. so we had a chat from right after the sports festival with just me, Midoriya, Bakugou, and Todoroki which became an emo chatroom when we added Tokoyami, Jirou, and Kuroiro.

its a mental breakdown: And then Midoriya got in contact with his older brother, Ren and added him and Ren's best friend Haruhi to the chat because he wanted to show off Ren but Ren didn't feel comfortable talking without Haruhi lurking in the chat.

its a mental breakdown: you guys probably don't know but I was an orphan from a really really young age because my parents died when I was young and my other family members didn't want me. and at the beginning of this year, when I got into UA, I moved out of the orphanage, got an apartment close to campus and all, I'd had a job for two years prior.

its a mental breakdown: and last night, Haruhi gave Bakugou 11,055 yen as a dare to start this chat. then Bakugou and Haruhi were talking about the no-job rule because of the dorms and I'd thought it was a joke when I got the paper so I didn't have anything saved up and I don't exactly have parents I can ask for money if I need to buy food and I'm definitely not asking my friends and bothering them.

its a mental breakdown: I mean, I have enough I could coast for a month or two without pay but I feel like Aizawa would kill me for not eating right.

its a mental breakdown: anyway, I had my anxiety attack, Haruhi sent me money, Kuroiro made a sentence creepy like always, and Haruhi called me and Bakugou his sons. him, Jirou and Tokoyami joked about him being a dad for a bit and then he actually told me when I went back online that he wanted to legally adopt me.

mother i crave violence: Thus why I didn't wake up Pinky this morning. I was busy in the Gen Ed dorms with my new brother.

its a mental breakdown: I will have another breakdown, don't tempt me.

ordained: Shinsou, man, that's so awesome! You have a dad! We should have a party for Shinsou getting a dad!

its a mental breakdown: if it makes you guys happy then go for it but if you go crazy with the party again. we already had the incident on my birthday, we're not having another.

Asui: What incident, kero?

its a mental breakdown: Kirishima's hair got set on fire at some point, Sero got tangled onto the railing of my balcony and was hanging from my fifth floor apartment's balcony railing, Mina choked on a piece of burnt tofu, Kaminari slipped in the bathroom and fell into the full bathtub where he then electrocuted himself, Bakugou got his face shoved into the cake and sat in the corner pouting while my cat Ume and dog Anzu tried to eat the cake off his face for the rest of the night, Jirou got lost inside my apartment building, and I hit my head on the counter and had a concussion for a week.

Hagakure: Why is your friend group so chaotic?

mother i crave violence: I like to think I've cultivated a well-functioning group of chaotic demons. At least if one of us is doing something dumb, usually the rest will either follow or do something dumb of their own.

neko neko kneecaps: I'd like to plead innocent as well as shift majority blame to Midoriya's friend group because I just know those idiots could and would collectively kill and hide a body and nobody would ever know it was them.

Midoriya: Bold of you to assume we haven't already.

neko neko kneecaps: Yeah, hi, mom, pick me up, I'm afraid of Midoriya again.

Midoriya: You can run, Jirou, but you can't hide.

neko neko kneecaps: You can't kill me, Bakugou would be sad!

Midoriya: You may live...for now.

neko neko kneecaps: Oh, thank the gods.

Taglist: @lgbtforeverything @rin-tanaka

[iliumheightnights]

Let Me Make You Proud [2] | Tony Stark x Son!Reader

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Tony Stark & Son!Reader

Part 1

Summary: After leaving his old life behind, (M/N) Stark carves out his new life. He thinks about all of the memories he left behind and makes his own new family. However sometimes destiny intervenes. 

A nine year old (M/N) Stark stood behind a curtain looking out into the audience. It was his first big concert and he was excited for a Solo he had.The chair reserved for his father was empty. He scanned the audience for his father, he promised he would come to this one. (M/N) had been so excited when his father told him he would be there. As he reached the back of the crowd he realized his father wasn’t there...yet. He could just be running late. 

The teacher called for all the students to get into position and (M/N) hesitantly got to his spot. The curtain drew back and the kids started their concert. He couldn’t help but frown a little at all of the parents and guardians there, supporting their kids. He looked over at the chair again hoping to see his father, but it was still empty. 

The concert was going swimmingly. The other students were having a great time, (M/N) on the other hand wasn’t. It was getting closer and closer to his solo and his dad still wasn’t there. Eventually the time had arrived, he walked to the front of the stage and began his solo. Looking into the audience his heart fell as his eyes found the empty chair. The eyes of all the other parents were like daggers staring into him. He could feel tears building up in his eyes, and he began to shake. The ending couldn’t come soon enough.

The concert had come to an end.  (M/N) sat on the edge of the stage watching kid after kid leave with their parents. “(M/N) are you alright?” Looking he saw his teacher sitting next to him. (M/N) only nodded and looked at the seat with his father’s name on it. She followed his line of sight and immediately understood. She put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry (M/N). I know you were really excited for him to see you perform. I don’t know if it means anything but I thought you did splendid.” He smiled at her. “Thank you Miss.” The two stayed on the stage for half an hour with most students already leaving. Yet no one had come to get him yet and his teacher’s face had become one of worry and frustration. “(M/N) I’m going to call your parent’s and make sure everything is alright okay?” She stood up and walked away a bit before calling.

(M/N) could tell by her voice that she was frustrated but not at him. She never got mad at him, always his dad. After a bit she hung up with a huff and walked back over to him with a smile on her face, he knew it was a front. She sat back on the stage next to him “So I called and Happy should be here soon for you.” Of course he would. The teacher tried to pass the time with him talking about the concert and how well he and everyone did and that she would love to have him perform a solo again.

After another fifteen minutes, Happy finally arrived. He walked in with a smile on his face as he approached the two. “Ready to go kid?” (M/N) didn’t say anything as he jumped off the stage and started to walk to the car. “Hey what’s wrong kid? Not happy to see me?” (M/N) could already hear the teacher start her rant to him and knew he shouldn’t be there to hear it. He stepped outside and got into the car. He didn’t have to wait long before Happy got into the driver’s seat and began to drive them home. “I heard you did really good in the concert.” (M/N) wasn’t in the mood to talk, he watched the city lights fly by outside his window. “I’m sorry buddy. I forgot and your dad got really busy.” The boy didn’t move, only kept watching out the window.

Once they arrived back at the tower (M/N) slowly made his way back in. His big night had been ruined. This wasn’t the first time his dad did something like this, but it still hurt. Wanting to see his dad he took the elevator to the lab. He could see his dad through the glass, he was slunched over his table, asleep. He took note of all the blueprints and machine parts surrounding his dad. It was in that moment that he realized his dad loved working more than him, and if he wanted his dad’s love he’d have to change. That was the moment he stopped being (M/N) Stark.

…

(M/N) was snapped out of his thoughts by a tugging at his pants. Looking down he saw PRYSM looking up at him. “What are you doing?” Ah PRYSM, so pure, so innocent. “I was just thinking.”  He looked back up at the school across the street. The same one he went to in what seemed like a lifetime ago. “OOOOOHHHHH. What are you thinking about?” (M/N) motioned for PRYSM to follow him and started walking again. “Just thinking about my past.”

It had been roughly two years since he had left the tower and the avengers behind. He missed them, he missed Clint and Wanda. He even missed his dad. When he had first left the tower Tony had freaked and tried everything to find him. He flew around the city in his suit, so did Rhodey. He heard people say they saw spiderman looking as well but he wasn’t so certain about that. Then his dad made a television appearance begging him to come home and that he was sorry. The comments from people after that made him furious. He probably just wants attention. I’d leave too if he was my dad. That boy probably had too much on his shoulders. People blamed both him and his father. The last thing that his dad did was offer a cash reward for anyone who brought him back home. That caused him tons of problems, he had to watch over his back even more. It was like he had a target on his back. Eventually his dad pulled that down and people didn’t care about him again. Like usual.

He hadn’t talked to Clint for a long time. They talked for a bit after (M/N) left, he wanted to keep him involved. But as he started to travel the world and discover new things he started to drift away. They still kept in contact, talking every now and again but it was clear there was a rift. He hadn’t talked to Wanda, he wanted to but didn’t want to. He knew she was furious at him, he could feel it.

“So then I was like there is no way you could make that basket but then he did! It was crazy! I’m telling you (M/N) the kids basketball games get intense! You should come next time.” How could someone NOT love PRYSM. They just get excited over everything. The two continued to walk through the streets of New York, gaining attention from people seeing a robot just roll down the street. Eventually the two made their way to a warehouse which (M/N) converted into his current home. “You know I’m not really into going and watching sports P. I’d rather much go to the zoo.” He said while taking off his coat. The robot’s eyes widened. “We should TOTALLY go. I LOVE the zoo!”

“Did I hear zoo!?” (M/N) turned to see a person rush from the kitchen. “We going to the zoo? I’m so down!”

“Calm down Doreen. No one’s going to the zoo.”

“WHY NOT!?” Both Doreen and PRYSM shouted.

“What’s going on?” All three turned to look at the new person entering the building.

“Thank god. Kamala please tell them we aren’t going to the zoo.” (M/N) tried beginning with her.

“Why not? I love the zoo.”

“Ha! That’s Three against one. We’re going to the zoo. Everyone get your shit!”

(M/N) couldn’t fight against it. He was outmanned and outgunned. To be fair...he also wanted to go to the zoo. That’s how he found himself with his friends making their way to the zoo. Walking through Central Park this time of year was always nice. He looked over at Doreen and Kamala. He remembered the first time he met them. They were trying to ‘rescue’ him, since they saw his dad’s tv appearance and thought he was missing. It was hilarious Miss Marvel and Squirrel Girl, the heroes he never knew he needed. After explaining everything he remembered Doreen directly stating “We’re your family now.” and they’ve been friends ever since. He was lucky to have them. 

“That’s it. I need some tunes, PRYSM can you play something? Please?” Doreen basically shouted and Tippy-Toe nodded in approval. Damn he loved that squirrel. “I sure can!” PRYSM started to playing music and Kamala and Doreen both shouted in excitement and started walking to the beat.

“I be Spike'd out, I could trip a referee” Doreen sang followed by Kamala singing. “Tell by my attitude that I'm most definitely from-” 

“Hit it (M/N)!” Doreen shouted at him.

He couldn’t help the wide smile that came to his face as he started to sing. “New york! Concrete jungle where dreams are made of. There’s nothing you can’t do!” Doreen and Kamala joined in with him. “Now you’re in New York! These streets will make you feel brand new!” They started to dance as they made their way down the path. People watching them go, some laughing, some recording, but they didn’t care. In that moment it was just them having one hell of a time. (M/N) had started to sing again around his friends, he started being himself again. Away from his father’s shadow he began to bloom.

…

Back in the tower, Tony sat on (M/N)’s bed. The room hadn’t really been touched in the two years his son had been gone. Dust had started to gather on many of the picture frames and collectibles. It was a constant reminder of how much a failure of a father he was. He realized just how distant and cold he had been. Pepper, Rhodey and Happy found him many times asleep on that bed with red and puffy eyes.

He held one of (M/N)’s sketch books in his hands. Opening the book he started to flip through the sketches. The book had started out with character and designs for stories he had been thinking of. But as Tony continued to flip through the book it became less and less creative designs and more blueprints for machines and inventions. Tony hated this, he hated that he made his kid give up the things he loved to do just so he could feel loved by his own dad.

He could feel tears streaming down his face as his hands started to shake. It had been two years and he missed his son so much. He just wanted to hold him again, to try and fix things. Tony’s relationship with Peter was...Strained. He couldn’t look at Peter without feeling guilt and regret. Peter tried his best to make him feel better but it didn’t help. Not until (M/N) was back.

“He always did love to draw.” Tony looked up at the voice. Clint stood in the doorway looking at him. “He wouldn’t want you to waste away in this room ya know?” He looked back down at the sketch book, running his hands over the creative designs. “I just- I don’t know what to do. I want to talk to him. I want to apologize. I miss him so much. He’s been out there for two years, I have no idea where he is or if he’s okay and it keeps me up at night.” Clint gave him a sympathetic smile before walking into the room and over to the glass windows looking out into the city. “He’s okay. He’s a lot stronger than you think he is.” Tony could only nod at that, he might not have had a good relationship with his son but Clint did. If he says he’ll be okay, he’s okay. “Still I just wish I knew where he was.” Clint didn’t look back at Tony and debated on saying anything. “The last time I talked with him he was in London.” Tony’s head snapped up and Clint could feel his eyes burning into the back of his skull. “You talked to him? When? Why didn’t you tell me?” Tony stood up and made his way to Clint who turned to face him directly. “Yes, I have. Last time I talked with him was four months ago, he said something about coming back to New York. And I didn’t tell you because he wanted his space. He didn’t want you coming after him.” Tony couldn’t decide if he was happy his son could be back in New York or angry that Clint didn’t tell him about him.

“Do you think he’s ba-” Before the two could continue their conversation Steve bursted into the room. “Get your gear. We have a problem.”

…

The seal enclosure always was (M/N)’s favorite part of the zoo. Doreen and PRYSM practically ran away once they entered the zoo. He and Kamala sat down on a bench looking directly at the seals. He could feel Kamala looking at him. “What is it?” He turned to look at her,she looked like she was hesitating to say anything. “I was just wondering. You’ve been back in New York for months now. So why haven’t you tried talking with your dad again? He obviously wants to see you again. He wouldn’t have made that tv appearance if he hadn’t.”

“I still can’t believe he plays that even after two years.”

“It’s because he means it (M/N). I think-”

The two were interrupted as a figure was thrown through the air and crashed into the seal enclosure. (M/N) recognized who it was immediately. “Peter?” People started running out of the zoo in a panic. Through the crowd he saw them, the avengers. They were pushing past people towards Peter. “What’s going on!” he saw Doreen and PRYSM run towards them. “We don’t know!” Kamala started to say before a ship was above the zoo. A blue woman with a staff on top. (M/N) knew who it was. “Hala.”

“Who!” Yelled the other three.

“She’s a kree who tried kidnapping metahumans years ago. Guess she’s back for round two.”

(M/N) then heard a sound he hadn’t heard in years. He would know the sound of the repulsors anywhere. He looked up and watched as his dad flew over his head, firing on Hala’s ship. It couldn’t breach it’s shield’s however. Hala pointed her spear and fired a laser cutting through anything it touched. The avengers scrambled out of the way.

“OH. MY. GOSH! Guys this is our time! We gotta help them!” Doreen shouted.

“Absolutely” Kamala agreed. “What about you (M/N)?”

He watched as Hala fired on the avengers. His family. No one fucked with his family. “Damn right I am.”

“I...I’m just gonna...be over here.” PRSYM rolled out of sight faster than ever.

“Oh this is gonna be so fucking awesome!” Doreen shouted. 

The three broke up and went in different directions. Hoping they could perhaps distract her enough. (M/N) let his powers engulf his body in a flash, putting him in the suit he made in case things like this happened. He had used his powers here and there but didn’t rely on them. Hala fired again making some rubble fall, Steve pushed Clint out of the way but before they could stand back up she pointed at them and fired. (M/N) quickly jumped in front of them and put up a barrier blocking them from the ray. “(M/N)?” he looked back and smiled at the men who looked both relieved and shocked that he was standing there with them. “Hey Clint,Steve. Long time no see.” (M/N) turned back to the barrier, pulled back his arms and pushed sending the ray back at Hala, causing an explosion. “Get her staff!”

While the avengers were shocked he was there, they knew it wasn’t the time for a reunion. Everyone sprang into action, each trying to reach Hala. Having to doge moving lazer fire wasn’t as easy as they made it look on tv. Kamala and Doreen got close before they were through back by Hala. Tony,Rhodey and Sam tried getting her from the sky but she wasn’t making it easy. 

When (M/N) saw his chance he took it. He used his powers to launch himself into the air. He had almost reached her when she turned around and fired her staff directly at him. He formed a barrier blocking the brunt of the attack, however trying to fly and block was a lot for someone who wasn’t trained. He couldn’t hold it any longer and his barrier exploded pushing him to the ground. Before he could hit the ground he felt strong arms surround him. Looking up he was greeted by piercing the white eyes of the spiderman mask. “(M/N)! Are you alright!” (M/N) let out a laugh and patted the side of his face. “Never better spiderboy. Never better.” Peter sat him down on the ground  “Look (M/N) I’m-” He held a hand up to Peter’s face. “Now is REALLY not a good time for this. Now get your ass in gear and get that staff!” Peter watched (M/N) run off. “Damn that was kind of hot.”

“I wonder how good Iron Man’s armor really is!” Hala fired her staff and hit Tony square in the chest. This caused his suit to power down and sent it falling to the ground. (M/N) watched in horror as the suit came falling down. “DAD!” Using his powers he rushed over and launched once more into the air, grabbing his father. “God you’re suit is so freaking heavy!” as the ground came closer, He brought his knees up and kicked them out using his powers to cushion their landing. (M/N) was out of breath and fell on top of his dad’s suit. “Can you hear me? You okay in there?” With the power off it was hard to hear but he heard it. “I’m alright. I’m glad to see you kid.” (M/N) couldn’t help the smile. “Glad to be back.”

“ENOUGH!” (M/N) turned to see Hala bring her staff up. “I SHALL HAVE MY ARMY!” She brought her staff down and the portals began to open up around all the avengers. He watched as one after another was sucked up. “(M/N)!” He watched Kamala and Doreen get sucked up too. “Oh. Can’t forget the father and son!”  He could feel tears building up, he lost his friends. Letting his anger out he created another barrier around his father and him. Hala’s portals couldn’t reach them. “So be it. I’ll be back. I’ll always come back.” With that Hala disappeared back into her ship before it took off into the atmosphere.

He brought down the barrier and stared up at the sky. He fell onto his hands and let out a scream. His cries echoed through the ruined zoo. He felt a strong grip on his shoulder, He looked up into the face of his dad. “(M/N)...” The two looked at each other for a bit before (M/N) fell into Tony’s arms. Hugging him. “I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t save them.”

Tony pulled back and stood up, bringing (M/N) up with him. He shook his head. “This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. If you weren’t here I probably would have been taken too. We’ll find them.” (M/N)’s face became serious before he nodded his head. “We’re gonna find them. And we’re gonna get them back. And we’re gonna kick some ass.” Tony smiled at his son. His son was right in front of him and he had grown so much.

“Yes we will!” Both men looked down and saw PRYSM looking up at them. “Hi Mr.Stark it’s nice to see you again.”

Tony let out a laugh before becoming serious. “How are we going to find them. And we’ll need more help.”

(M/N) smirked and held up his phone. “I got close enough to throw a tracker on her ship. I got their location right here. As for the help...I know a person.”

Twenty minutes later the three of them stood outside a garage door. (M/N) looked at his dad. “Before you say anything...I thought it was only fair I had one too.” He laughed at his dad’s face when it scrunched up into a confused look. Moving back to the garage He knocked once,paused and then knocked three times. “What exactly are we doing here?” Tony asked his son. “Getting help.” The garage opened and the three came face to face with a pink tipped blonde haired girl. 

“Hey,Gwen. I need your help.”

A/N: Hope you guys liked part 2! I loved introducing some of my favorite marvel girls. As you can probably guess there will be a part 3 coming.

[birdy-bat-writes]

Final Conclusions

A/N: So Fish and I came up with this Dad!Constantine concept while talking about this one OC I created and a few OC’s she created. The one I created is named Maya. The premise of her story is that she’s a love interest for Damian and she treats John like a mentor/father figure since he’s teaching her to control her magic. This plot is basically what has sprouted any of the Dad/Uncle/Mentor Constantine content I’ve created. Fish has contributed a lot and I love her so much. The basis for this interaction is that John finds a lot of amusement in the fact that Damian likes Maya and he just hates John so much. Even though it’s based on an OC, I’m going to write it x reader style with the reader having the same powers as my OC. So now that there’s context let’s begin!

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

 It’s the opening night of the Gotham Academy’s festival of the arts. The night where young artists and musicians show off their talent in the galleries and performances, and two people who never show up to these things- like ever- both happened to be here at the same time for the same reason. You. And it irked them to no end.

Both John and Damian arrived at 6:30 pm on the dot. Damian looked so irritated to see John there. Why is he even there? He doesn’t even like going to these things. But then again, neither did Damian. He decided to put his irritation aside and began to walk into the building with John. He had to admit, John stepped up for the occasion.

John cleaned up, did his hair, shaved and actually wore a jacket that was not his usual beige trench coat, all to attend some crummy high school art show. But he did it anyway because it was your work that was being displayed. The disdain he felt towards these events was replaced with a sense of pride he had in you. He sported a grey blazer and black shirt with matching slacks, that contrasted Damian’s black suit.

“Nice to see you here, Damian.”

“Likewise.” The conversation stayed stagnant for a while as they looked around at the different works displayed. Neither of them walked around much. The silence was broken when you walked up to them, looking elegant as ever in your green dress.

“Hey, guys! I’m so happy you both could come.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Damian said sweetly. And that was a rare sight for John to see. Damian being sweet?!

“Do you want to see my display?” They both excitedly nodded “yes” and followed you to a wall at the end of the hall. You cautiously cut through the crowd and pointed. “Tada!”

“That looks amazing, Y/N. You’re more talented than you know.”

“Not bad, kiddo. It’s the best thing I’ve seen from you since that chicken you managed to turn green.”, John said ruffling your hair. Thank goodness you left it down. If it was done up, it would have taken ages to fix, but since you knew john was coming, you took the precaution. He had a habit of doing that when he was proud of you, and it made your day every time.

“Thank you. I’m just going to check out the ceramic displays, you guys want to come?”

“No thanks, dear.”

“I’ll just wait here.”

“Okay, see you in a bit. I’m so happy you both are here.” You chimed. You had that little gleam in your eye that you always did when you were happy, and Damian didn’t fail to notice. He lingered on it. Just as he did with your smile, and the soft glow on your cheeks. He was regrettably brought out of his love-trance by the sound of John’s voice.

“Does that look like ketchup on paper to you too? Or is it just me?” Damian wanted to roll his eyes and say something snarky, but instead, looked up at the painting john was talking about. It really did just look like a glob of red paint.

“I can’t even tell what that’s supposed to be. If it’s abstract, they did a good job.”

“To be honest, I don’t really get this ‘art’ thing. Half of these canvases look like something a two-year-old could muster.” John said, and Damian sighed in return.

“You have to look beyond the surface. Art is about the emotion behind the paint and pencil.”

“Alright, Picasso, what’s that one about then?” Damian stayed silent. “I thought you were an artist; you don’t get art?”

“I sketch sometimes but that doesn’t make me an artist.”

“Ah, damaged closet-artist.” Damian groaned lowly.

“There isn’t anything in that piece to understand. It’s just paint splatters. Half of these can only be admired for their technical skill; there’s no emotion behind them. If there is one, it’s not one that I understand.

“Whose work do you like then?” Damian gave that one some thought,

“I like the classics, I suppose. The only current artist whose work I’ve liked is Y/N.”

“Interesting, so, what emotion do you get from her work?” John had his trademark devilish grin plastered upon his face. He knew Damian was head over heels for you, and it sure was fun to get a rise out of him with that. Damian was trying not to let his mind wander off to the charcoal sketches he has framed in his room. You drew them for him and left them in his room one day. They were all sketches of Titus, Batcow, Alfred the cat and his personal favorite, a charcoal rendition of a polaroid you took. It was the two of you at the beach with the family, and Damian was smiling. It was rare and reserved just for you, so he couldn’t help but think the emotion he got from it was love. That photo stayed between the two of you, and the drawing wasn’t shown to anyone but him. John doesn’t get the luxury of knowing that. Why did he even ask? Why is he even here?

“Why did you come here?” Damian asked.

“Y/N invited me.”

“You don’t like going to these events. Why’d you say yes?”

“Same reason as you mate, I care about her more than I hate the rest of society.”

Damian gave a light nod that anyone would have missed if they weren’t’ looking for it. “What about you? It’s not like you enjoy school activities and such.” Damian looked a little flustered.

“I wanted to support my friend and classmate. It’s important to her.”

“Right, you wanted to support your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“Aye, but you want her to be.” John said with a smirk.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t give me that. Its plain as day that you like her.” Damian scoffed and looked down for a while.”

“How did you come to that conclusion?” He tried to play it off like sarcasm, but that didn’t really go as planned.

“You hate people and yet you love being around her. You’re an artist and can’t understand anyone’s art but hers. You want to protect her from anyone who you think isn’t good enough for her, myself included. The signs are pretty obvious.” Damian looked a little flushed but remained speechless. “And besides, she’s pretty easy to fall in love with, I hear. My home phone gets calls from boys on the daily.”

“What?! From who?!?”

“Hehe, and that’s how I came to that conclusion.”

“Constan-!”

“There you guys are! I’ve been looking for you. Art awards are going to be announced soon. Want to go find a seat?” You had just found the boys and were ready to take them into the auditorium for the Art Awards.

“Sure thing.”, John said cheerily.

John smiled and Damian just returned a cold glare.

***

They were seated next to each other and chose not to complain about it. Instead, opting to tense over the fact that they were nearing the end of the awards ceremony and your name hadn’t yet been called. This meant one of two things: Either you were about to win one of the top cash prizes or you weren’t going to win anything. And the thought of the latter had both John and Damian gripping the arm rests of their seats tight enough to dent them. The anticipation was building in all of you, but it flooded away from you when you turned and looked at the boys. They looked more stressed than you did, and it made you want to laugh. Of course, you stifled it. This is what you liked to call “Chaotic caring energy”. And truth be told, these two were awfully similar for a pair of people who can’t stand each other.

It was down to second place. You had lost hope and accepted you wouldn’t win anything. The boys hadn’t, though. They were literally at the edge of their seats, and you swear you saw Damian grab John’s shoulder at one point. Just then, you heard your name called. First place, Y/N L/N, 8th grade.

“Yes! I’m so proud of you!”

“Well done, N/N! I knew you’d be up there!” They could be heard over the Loud cheering from the rest of the audience. You walked up and received your award and you waved at them from the stage. John looked at you with a genuine smile and adoration in his eyes. He knew you were talented, and he was so proud of you for working so hard for this. You had finally gotten the recognition you deserved and the look in his eyes reflected how happy he was about it. Damian noticed too. John really cared about you. Damian saw it now. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad mentor for you after all.

While leaving the hall, the three of you saw Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim and Alfred waiting by the doors. They congratulated you and showered you with hugs. They had seen the ceremony as well, but they watched it from the auditorium balcony. While you were off showing your plaque to everyone, Damian took an opportunity to say something he felt he needed to say.

“Hey, John?”

“Hm?’

“When you said I want to protect Y/N from people who aren’t good enough… I don’t consider you to be someone I should protect her from. You’re a good mentor.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” They shared a look of agreement. Perhaps they had finally settled a truce. “And of course, I’m a good mentor for her. I’m the master of my craft.” John added smugly.

“I saw you light your tie on fire once.”

“Who said that was an accident?” They shared a chuckle. Meanwhile, Bruce and Alfred were making celebratory dinner plans, and you were standing flabbergasted with the boys because Damian and John were smiling at each other??? They walked up to you and overhearing Bruce’s discussion about dinner, Damian took the liberty of inviting John to join you.

You choked on your saliva, Tim looked beyond concerned and when John said he’d be delighted, everyone freaked. Bruce looked terrified, Dick squinted, and Jason was about to take a picture while Alfred just stared.

“Are they smiling at each other?”

“No, that’s not possible.”

“Um, they’re walking side by side and talking without grimacing.”

Y/N looks like she’s about to pass out. Someone catch her.”

[symphonic-scream]

Friendships in the Jocks Kwami Swap

Just some context to who's close to who, main focus on Kim and Alix

Kim's childhood friends with Marinette and Nino

They grew up within a block of eachother and have been tight since their first day of school together

They don't always hang out, but they text nonstop

Like their groupchat is pinging near constantly

Kim, Ivan, and Alix have played lacrosse with eachother for at least a few years now

I'll say they met when they were like 10-ish

They're not super close, and most of their time spent together is lacrosse related

Adrien joins the dynamic as soon as he joins lacrosse and starts learning bro language from them

Kim and Max sit together in class on day one and that's it, they're best buddies now

Alix is dragged into their group as Max's main friend, which starts the Feral Jock dynamic's original members

Max is the tired mom friend who has his Jock friends wearing those leash kid backpacks

He is the only judge they trust for the bets between them

When Kagami joins the class around Volpina, she doesn't join them at first

Alix approaches her first like "hey I heard you like sports, wanna hang out?"

And Kagami looks to Adrien and Marinette, who don't know any better, who encourage her to make more friends

It's all downhill from there

Kagami, Alix, and Kim are all low wisdom and Max just supervises now he's done trying to talk them out of their bullshit

Rich kid gang!!

Alix, Adrien, and Chloe were super close when they were little

Alix and Chloe agreed to pretend the other doesn't exist at school, Adrien joining the class breaks this down

Audrey wasn't a big fan of the Kubdels and tried to keep Chloe away from Alix but it didn't work

Until Alix's mom died. She withdrew and didn't go to as many rich parties, and when she did she wouldn't leave Jalil's side

Sabrina sorta takes her place after that? But whenever Alix shows up to rich parties the others act like she never left them

Once Adrien joins the class, he insists that Alix and Chloe fix their friendship, and well, they sure do fix it

Kagami joins them later as well, and Chloe and Sabrina have to keep Kagami and Alix from getting Adrien into trouble

Alix and Nath become good friends after Ivillustrator

She sees his art and is like "same hat!!"

They hang out all the time

Marinette, Rose, and Marc round out the art gang, but Nath and Alix are the closest

Alix and Max became friends around the time Alix, Ivan, and Kim did

So like age 10

They met at the museum and they judge the exhibits together

They also talk about their plans for when they finally grow because it will happen, it will!

These are all I have for now. I've now watched 7 episodes of this show and I ache for the classmates to get more screen time I love them! Also you can pry rich Alix from my dead hands like her dad works at the Louvre? And Jalil does whatever it is he does I'm still unsure but I bet he's pulling cash! Anyways I love these dynamics and I wanted to talk about them

[c-c-cherry]

Bucci Gang Headcanons!!!

I’m not really one to usually post this kind of stuff, but these are some lil headcanons my pal @jjadegreen and I have come up with while stuck in the same house during the quarantine!! 

These literally range from *probably would happen* to *fucking crack* so y’all have been warned...

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Giorno is one of those people that has a secret sweet-tooth. Like. An insane one where if he actually decides to indulge in it he cannot fucking stop. 

When he does go overboard, it’s usually because Bruno got his favourite ice cream flavour from the store and it’s always at some ungodly hour of the night.

He usually blames it on Mista somehow. Accidentally ate the entire tub of ice cream at 3am? No biggie. Just put the spoon on Mista’s bedside table while he’s asleep! 

Everyone blames Mista for it EVERY TIME and now he’s not allowed to eat any ice cream when they buy it. Mista thinks it’s the Sex Pistols because he swears he doesn’t remember doing it. 

Giorno just sits there like *sweats* “yeah uh no it had to be Mista, right? There’s definitely no one else it could be, right? Right??”

One time Abbacchio caught him in the act at like 4am and they have yet to bring it up.

He would spill Giorno’s big secret, but he really likes to see Mista suffer.

Narancia wears skirts sometimes and it’s not a big deal. He vibes, they all just vibe. No toxic masculinity here. 

Narancia is genuinely afraid of those “IF YOU DO NOT SEND TO 10 PEOPLE THIS WILL APPEAR AT THE END OF YOUR BED AT 3AM” emails.

One time he couldn’t do it because Bruno took his phone away and he sat in bed all night fucking trembling in fear of what chain mail monster would eat his face off this time.

Abbacchio hates geese. No one knows why. Not even Bruno.

Narancia’s real stand name IS Aerosmith, but he’s dead set on calling it Lil’ Bomber because “that’s his rapper name.”

Mista is lactose intolerant but he doesn’t know because he just thinks it’s normal to feel excruciating pain when you eat ice cream. 

“Like how pineapples hurt your mouth when you eat them.” -Mista probably

Bruno literally had to take him to the hospital one night because he inhaled too much ice cream and would not stop throwing up and Mista was like “wait this doesn’t happen to you??”

Trish hates butterflies because *fun fact!* butterflies often feed on not only nectar and fruit, but DECAYING CORPSES of animals! 

When she was a kid, she was walking in some alleyway and ran into a dead animal covered in butterflies. One landed on her arm and she fucking screamed. She will never look at them the same ever again...

Giorno loves to make things into butterflies when they all spend time together, and Trish literally has to suppress a shudder every time one goes near her.

Fugo is one of those people that is basically not afraid of anything, but when a fucking bee comes near him he will LOSE IT. He’s one of those people that will have to get up and run away from a bee when it flies near him.

If you tell him that it will leave him alone if he stops moving, he will punch you.

Giorno likes to make shit into bees sometimes just to fuck with him

Bruno does not like dogs. It probably stems from some childhood experience that went sour, but he does not care. He will be stone-faced during any mission or situation, but if a dog tries to jump up and greet him he will freak. The fuck. Out.

One time Narancia and Mista brought home a dog from the streets and mama Bruno was like “NOPE” and zipped himself out of existence.

Abbacchio found him locked in the closet under the stairs when he got home and made them get rid of it.

Leone was more of a cat person anyway.

Abbacchio eats raw pasta.

Fugo plays chess with himself. When Giorno joins the team he’s like “ugh finally an intellectual” but Giorno has literally never seen a fucking chess board in his life and is too scared to tell Fugo so he just keeps making up excuses as to why he doesn’t “have time” to play chess with him today.

Mista doesn’t shower but he has a BOMB-ass face-care routine. Even Trish is jealous. His face? Baby soft? Ten out of ten. The rest of him? Axe body spray out of ten.

Narancia went through a goth phase pre-canon. Abbacchio was not happy because Bruno kept referring to him as “little Abba” but he let Narancia use his good lipstick anyway.

Mista found his special hat in a street gutter on a rainy day and it matched his sweater so he decided to just keep it. Abbacchio does Trish’s makeup. They go to Sephora together. I don’t make the rules.

Giorno never really told anyone (besides Bruno) that he got his stand naturally so they all assume he got it from Polpo’s lighter and when he mentioned something off-hand about “when I was a kid Gold and I…” everyone’s just like “bitch hold up-”

Abbacchio wears coloured contacts and his ass literally cannot see without them. 

Yes they are expensive as fuck. He blows half his pay-check on them every month. 

One time he lost them right before a mission so he had to pull out his heavy prescription glasses from like 8th grade. They literally looked like this.

I think you can imagine the outcome

Growing up, Giorno only listened to three songs. 

The only reason he had access to these songs was because he found a really old Walkman on the side of the road when he was wandering around once. The tape only had three songs on it; Dancing Queen, It's Raining Men, and some song by Mozart. These were the three songs of Giorno’s childhood. 

He still has it and likes to listen to the tape when he gets sad

Narancia doesn’t know what a period is. Neither does Mista. 

Bruno forces everyone into the living room after overhearing this and makes them all watch one of those really awkward sex-ed videos from the 90s (you know the ones)

It was one of the worst days of their lives

They still have the tape and Narancia sometimes slips it in the VHS player when they all least expect it just to fuck with everyone

Bruno once held a capo meeting at their house (biggest mistake of his life) and all you could heard blasting through the walls of the other room was “YoUr bOdy MiGht Be gOiNg tHrOuGh sOmE cHaNgEs, fOr eXaMpLe yOuR P-”

On that note, Giorno was definitely that one kid who took notes during Sex-Ed

Abbacchio listens to Avril Lavigne

Giorno shaves his arms. It kind of started by accident but now he literally cannot stop or else his arms will look completely fucked up

Bruno has sensitive teeth. He can’t drink water that’s too cold cause it hurts his mouth. Abbacchio makes him tea :)

Fugo plays piano to help him with his anger. He would say that he plays saxophone too, but it’s more like violently screeching into the mouthpiece instead of actually playing it.

Narancia thinks that lesbian is a nationality

Even though Giorno lived in Japan for just a couple years, he’s still pretty fluent in the language because his mother would only speak Japanese to him growing up

The gang has no idea that Giorno is Japanese and when a foreigner is struggling Giorno just swoops in with perfect Japanese and they’re all just really confused.

Giorno doesn’t cry during movies or TV shows, but he’s one of those people who fucking BAWLS during video game credits

Mista and Narancia beat Ocarina of Time together and Giorno was watching from the sidelines and AS SOON as the credits started rolling there were tears.

When KK Slider starts to sing in Animal Crossing New Horizons and your character is brought into a music void and the credits start rolling he tears up just a little bit

Mista is squeamish around dead bugs. Not live ones. Dead ones and solely dead ones

Mista and Trish go thrifting. Mista goes to check the pockets of clothes for spare cash (cause he’s a broke bitch) and Trish goes to buy clothes

Everyone thinks that Mista doesn’t change his clothes but he actually just buys like 7 of the same outfit

Mista sneezes like a white sports dad. You know the sneeze.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Bonus Bruabba shit because Jade and I always go fucking HARD when talking about our local mafia dads:

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Bruno ties up the little strings on Abbacchio’s tiddy shirt every morning.

They got promise rings. Leone’s trying to find a nice time to actually propose but the gang keeps fucking it up every time they try to go on a nice date together

Bruno and Leone watch thunderstorms together

-The rest of the bucci gang stay inside and play monopoly or something when’s its stormy but these two bring out blankets and sit on the front porch and just be all soft and shit watching the lightning light up the sky and listening to the rain on the roof above them.

Bucciarati and Abbacchio have been mistaken as the following: 

Bruno as a woman and Abbacchio as a man. Abbacchio as a woman and Bruno as a man. Two lesbians. But never an actual gay couple.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Yeah so I have no idea what that was. These were taken from a google doc we have together that’s just all these jumbled, crack-filled headcanons just for fun. I’m sure you can sense the pure chaos in this. 

Go give my dude @jjadegreen a hello, sis made most of these!

uhhh let us know if you want any more from any other parts. Cause y’all know we probably got some. <3