#my hair's been cut above my ears since i was 13
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I think the thing about it for me is that transmascs have the fundamental right to tell you what our experiences with misogyny and male privilege are, not the other way around.
You don't know what we go through unless we tell you. I don't know what other transmascs go through unless they tell me. Cis women, other trans people, even people with the exact same identities, the exact same life trajectories- none of us know what another person is experiencing or has experienced, let alone how they have interpreted and internalized those experiences, unless they tell us. Even then, we will only ever have access to an imperfect version of that true experience filtered through several layers of language and our own perception & biases.
Does this clash with what feminism says about men's experiences? Yes, absolutely! A lot of (generally mainstream) feminism believes that women Know what men experience better than they themselves do, colored as those experiences are by bias and privilege. And this is a fundamentally isolating, egotistical belief. It cuts us off from each other, it prevents us from connecting, and it shuts down meaningful conversation before it can happen. It says women are pure and perfect, and men are sullied by privilege; that anyone touched by privilege cannot be trusted, and should not trust themselves.
When cis men say they've never experienced privilege, the answer should not be, "you don't know that," it should be vulnerability & curiosity. Why do you think that? I find that hard to believe for these reasons, but I want to know more. I want to co-create understanding with you. Are you curious about me, too? Will you offer me this same kindness? (And if not, they're probably not worth your energy!)
And y'know what, maybe they haven't actually experienced the things you think they have! Maybe the framework you are using is imperfect- maybe it works on a systems analysis level, but it doesn't apply universally. Particularly when we're talking about marginalized men!
This idea that experiencing privilege means you cannot be trusted, ever, to understand that privilege or to know when you have or haven't experienced it? It's so fucking dangerous. Case in point: transfems should be able to talk about the ways in which they might have experienced male privilege without it immediately discrediting everything else they have to say, up to and including about their own identities.
We cannot operate like this. A framework that denies people's self-knowledge will never be capable of liberating anyone.
So yes, actually, some transmascs may experience conditional male privilege at times. But will you, do you believe transmascs when we tell you that we don't?
#for me personally#as a transmasc#i have never been treated like a “girl” in my entire life#i don't even know how to explain it i've just never been a girl. i've never experienced “girlhood” or the misogyny that comes with it#i barely even experienced femininity while i thought i was cis because i didn't have that much of an interest or i wasn't “allowed” to#(and i mean “allowed” in a way that's super trivial like i couldn't paint my nails and shit as a kid)#i didn't have any long-term female friends#i was never allowed to wear makeup or paint my nails like i said#even well into my teen years#so i couldn't experience femininity in that way as the girls around me were doing it#i was never told i couldn't do or be something because i was a girl#even the weird shit like i was never objectified or hit on or had people be weird about me because i was also just not well liked#up until my junior year of high school and by that time i was intentionally presenting as trans lol#i have just never been treated like a girl#i was just treated the exact same as my younger brothers#which i think has a lot to do with the fact that i'm trans. i was just one of three little kids and the boys were like#barely two years younger than me so my parents just raised the three of us as a unit#didn't really bother considering the difference in the gender in parenting us#and that truly is my “male privilege” bc i was treated with the same grace and discipline both that were offered to my brothers#I don't get what most people think of as male privilege but i piggybacked off of what i grew up next to#for as long as i can remember i've just been treated like this weird genderless thing#and in the end that became what i am#so i don't even consider myself qualified to speak on misogyny or sexism or anything that other people who were socialized or present as#women have to deal with#because i have just never been a Girl to the people close to me. i'm just Nans.#i've always been weird#my hair's been cut above my ears since i was 13#and to me being trans is just an inherent part of who i am because even while i didn't conciously realize it until i was sixteen#I've just never been#A Girl
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Modern AU Headcanons
For all 7 of my ocs!! :3
all of their ethnicities/nationalities are canon to the ALNST universe too, but theyre just more applicable in a modern au.
The artwork I did for each of them isnt fully colored like how i originally planned, simply because this took FUCKING FOREVER. (17 hours??? all 7 ocs just to this basic color with 17 hours and 25k strokes??? according to procreate???) and i was so ready to be done with it, ive been talking about this for like ages and i knew that if i didnt finish this before Blink Gone dropped,,,, itd never get finished.
i also have other stuff i need/want to work on in regards to my ocs SO. if the art looks half-assed, im calling it a design choice 🎀
Toki (Redone):
He'd be a dancer that runs a choreography channel on youtube and tiktok. A really popular/famous content creator.
He's Asian! (South Korean)
Fluent in English/Korean.
Would probably face a lot of controversy for making strange jokes about cannibalism, but he never stays down when cancelled. (hes so schlatt core)
He's not a horrible person in a modern au. He's relatively normal, if not for the fact that he is still an orphan and still clinically mentally ill. He's just not toxic. He still has his cunt and freak but... he just doesn't manipulate, mansplain, and manslaughter anymore.
He's only toxic and awful as hell in ALNST because of the dystopian circumstances. His toxicity is seasoning to the tragedy that is ALNST.
He is still an orphan and his first memories would be in the orphanage where he was pretty much alone. People thought he was strange.
I'd like to believe he was selectively mute for quite a long time, which was another reason why people called him strange.
Still has the habit of studying peoples behaviors and learning them entirely for his own benefit. He wouldn't use it against someone unless absolutely necessary in a modern au.
He gets adopted when he's 13 by a kind, older man. He homeschools Toki and puts him in sports and recreational activities of his choice.
Toki chooses gymnastics and dance, contorting and moving his body at his will gives him a sense of control that he always felt he was never privileged to.
He didn't start talking until he was 16. His first words were, "Thank you, dad."
As an adult, as I said above, Toki runs a choreo channel on tiktok and youtube that gets a lot of traction. He enjoys having fans because it makes him feel less alone.
He's still possessive over Inna, but it's only because Toki struggles with feeling a sense of belonging and a home to come back to, and Inna becomes that home for him.
He has a streetwear aesthetic!
Of course, Toki still has his obsessive and possessive personality, that will never go away. It ends up rearing his head towards Inna, but I'm pretty sure Inna likes it anyway, the 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴.
Didn't go to college because his socmed took off before he graduated, sustaining him really well financially.
Friends with Ichor! Travels to Korea with him sometimes, but usually prefers to stay in America since that's where he was taken to when he was adopted.
Innamorati belongs to @alien-til-i-stage <3
Clove:
He is Latino! (Dominican/Caribbean)
His right eye is a lazy eye and he wears glasses. They're silver round frames that he sometimes puts a neck chain on.
His hair is dyed the same, but the dark brown is really short and cut to be fluffy/messy while keeping his long sides/short bangs!
He has a dark academia aesthetic mixed with a little bit of cottagecore. He's a lot more comfortable in his skin in regards to his gender so he wears skirts and dresses sometimes.
Spends his time at the library a lot, enjoys library dates with Aster (and also coffee shop dates).
He is fluent in Spanish and English.
He only has his ear lobes pierced and keeps small silver studs in them at all times.
Still trans, of course! He gets top surgery and a hysterectomy in a modern au (projecting what I personally want lmao)
All of his siblings are alive, and are still all named after flowers!
His upbringing was really peaceful, if not for having a very alive and loud household with 6 kids, him included.
His parents and siblings are all incredibly accepting and they all helped pitch in to get his top surgery done for his birthday one year <3
He inherited his parents flower shop and runs it now! His parents own the parent company to the flower shop, so all 6 children own one of said shops around the state!
He majored in Biology in college.
A lot of the neglect and trauma he faced in ALNST/ANAKT was only specific to the universe. He would lead a relatively normal and peaceful life, otherwise :)
Aster belongs to @apriciticreveries <3
Horizon:
He is American!
Horizon is incredibly smart and is an astrophysicist! He took it in college and has been hyperfixated on space since he was a kid.
Is the most visibly/recognizably autistic OC out of all of my OCs. All of my OCs are neurodivergent in some way because of my own neurodivergency, but Horizon takes the cake because his modern au mother (based on Scorpius) is also autistic. She raised him to not be forced into a mask.
Scorpius is a single mom and loves space as well, teaching Horizon all about it when he was a kid. Over time she grew more distant and would only connect with her son when its about his interest in space, or in regards to what happens at NASA.
Horizon is aware of his mothers distance and neglect and wishes things could go back to when he was a kid and she wasn't so distant.
He is still a narcolept, but is medicated and in physical therapy to help combat it.
He works at NASA! He makes good money and has discovered a lot of new stars!
He's more vocal in a modern au! He'd still go nonverbal a lot, but he'd also open up more and be less distant.
He still yaps about stars and space as much as possible.
He does not have stars in his eyes. I kinda feel like that goes without saying, but he does have dark grey-blue eyes.
Fond of Seraph and likes to study it. Fully aware something is wrong with it and that it definitely does not belong in his world, but finds it intriguing all the same.
Does not have a set dress style, he mostly dresses for comfort. He does have a lot of NASA merchandise and space/galaxy themed clothing, though. (would 100% have that blue and pink galaxy wolf hoodie at one point)
Seraph:
Still not human, and I will not elaborate as to why!
Also still uses He/Hy/It (Hy/Hymn).
It's a lot creepier in a modern au, actually. This is because the dystopian setting of ALNST makes it a bit more... usual and acceptable for Seraph to be uncanny? However, in a modern au... that's not the case.
People do NOT vibe with it more often than not.
Hy is British.
He is still albino with void-like eyes.
It majors in psychology and went to the same college as Horizon. This is related to his special talent,,, but that isn't released yet. :)
Still horribly enamored with Horizon and follows him around and studies him.
Horizon doesn't mind hymn and honestly knows somethings not right with Seraph, but he doesn't really care and actually likes to study Seraph back. (and seraph couldnt be happier about it, tbh)
Not a lot changes about Seraph, in all honesty. Hy doesn't really belong in the ALNST universe, what makes you think hy'd belong in the modern universe?
The things that do change, like it's echoing voice and it's staticky/distorted laugh, are gone because it personally stopped using them.
It's style is... elegant goth with some... cyber goth? Kinda strange and hard to describe but he does understand the morals and values of goth culture and music and upholds those values.
Lowkey an anarchist but you didn't hear that from me.
He is Horizon's roommate.
Seraph likes to believe their mutual studying of each other is what a romantic relationship entails.
Horizon spoils Seraph a lot... he has to do something with the money he gets from NASA.
He still does not like animals or Ichor.
Ichor:
He is still a catboy. He's not even like... a kemonomimi. He's just a fucking catboy.
If not an actual catboy, he would be a therian and/or kemonomimi. (kemonomimi directly translates to animal ears i believe? kemonomimis are just people who enjoy wearing animal ears/tails.)
He is also Asian! (South Korean)
Has a lot of mixed aesthetics, but enjoys crossdressing (in a cute way) and ouji fashion/lolita.
Autistic with selective mutism and is nonverbal more often than not. He is fluent in both ASL and KSL as well as spoken English/Korean. This is canon to the ALNST universe, but he is fully mute in canon.
Would probably be a professional gymnast. I'm talking like Olympics... professional.
Takes the fame from being a professional gymnast and becomes a content creator to show off his impeccable fashion sense.
100% dating and smitten with Briar. I'm assuming Briar would be a doctor in a modern au (akane, you can correct me if I'm wrong), and if that's the case, then Ichor would make a bunch of "woe is me, I need a doctor" jokes to Briar.
He'd immediately go to Briar if he gets hurt during performances.
Would actually be friends with Toki!! Both as a content creator and as a gymnast. They would get along very well due to overlapping interests, even more so when Ichor learns that Toki was mute for a long time.
Sometimes takes up gigs/jobs as a Sign Translator for both KSL and ASL.
Recognized as a Fashion Idol in Korea.
Frequently travels back and forth between South Korea and America due to this. ^ (his boyfriend misses him...)
Also did not go to college! He went straight into professional gymnastics and makes a living off of it! If he could go back to school, though, he would want to study the arts!
All of his hair is naturally white! He was based off of a white Turkish Angora cat, and since his hair was dyed against his will in ALNST, that wouldn't be the case in the MAU. He's only pink in his art because that's his color <3
Briar belongs to @aakaneeee <3
Lys:
She is Creole and born and raised in Louisiana!
Fluent in both Cajun French and normal French. She was a French immersion kid! (as in she learned french as she learned english in school growing up)
An amazing cook and loves to cook for her family and friends.
Has a brother and a sister, but she is the oldest. She loves her family and is very protective over them, same with her friends.
A big party-goer and social butterfly, she is the life and light of the party. She stays humble about it, but she can't deny how nice it makes her feel that people like her so much.
Dominates karaoke like it's no ones business. She loves singing and was in the church choir growing up.
She grew up Catholic, but is currently Agnostic.
Still a lesbian, and is very open about it. She is a strong advocate for LGBTQ+ rights and goes to as many Pride Parades as possible during pride month.
LOVES HER GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!!!!! EVEREST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Her favorite way to wear her hair is super long box braids with bright colored weave, usually orange or red, but she's done the whole rainbow before!
Majors in cosmetology!
Wants to be a fashion designer, and is also building a socmed presence!! Her childhood dream was to work at Hollywood as a SFX/Makeup artist! (She still kinda does, but is okay with working for any movie company, honestly)
Has a streetwear and Y2K aesthetic! She likes to explore a bunch of other fashion cultures, but normally ends up falling back to those two as a base/familiar ground.
Is really good friends with Clove! She knows him through Everest, who had befriended him in overlapping college courses. Clove approached Everest and became friends with him before she introduced Clove to Lys. They all like to hang out together :]
Everest:
She is Australiannnnn!!!!
Still albino!
She does have the sensitive skin and eyesight in the modern world, though. She is not genetically modified, therefore she has really powerful glasses and is covered a lot.
Wears a lot of loose flowy clothing and big sunhats to protect himself from the sun.
Also still intersex!
Still feels 60% femme and 40% masc with very little in between. Doesn't mind being referred to as androgyne, but prefers either or, rather than in between.
She is sapphic and horribly in love with her girlfriend, Lys.
Is a lot less morally grey in a modern au and is a lot more like Luna Lovegood, one of her inspirations.
His morality in ALNST comes from the dystopian setting, being used as a toy for the segyein after winning, and being a pet in general. Since that doesn't happen in the modern day, he doesn't have that trauma to influence him.
She takes second place on most visibly autistic. (Ichor takes third)
Majored in Chemistry and wants to be a chemist.
Has overlapping classes with Clove and is friends with him!
Comes from a pretty wealthy family and was raised prim and proper. Her parents believed she'd be better off presenting as a boy, but once she realized her autonomy, she refused it entirely and told her parents that she will live how she wants and that her body is hers to dictate.
Her parents don't like that she switches back and forth between masc and femme, but she could not give less of a fuck and honestly does it a little bit out of spite.
He still loves his parents... kinda. He has the mentality of "they gave me life and raised me, I should be grateful andlove them all the same." He just wishes they weren't so bitchy over his body and what he does with it. They can't say anything either considering he plans on being a chemist, and they're both very fond of the idea that their child is smart and will bring in more money.
They're also lowkey homophobic and only give Lys a pass because they see Everest as a boy more often than not. They still don't quite like Lys because she is a full lesbian/sapphic and sees Ever as femme.
Enjoys travelling a lot!!
Has a socmed presence through Lys and appears as a duo with her a lot. People love them together and give them a lot of the stereo contrasting ship types (fire/ice, blue/red, black/white, etc)
It not famous on her own! I don't think she would actively seek out a socmed presence of her own and would be content with being featured on Lys' socmed. He was only famous in ALNST for winning s36, he did not ask for that.
thats about it!! sorry its so long, but... i love my children... so...
anyways, taglist!! no pressure to respond <3 @rockwgooglyeyes @bluemoonscape @tsukacchako @starry-skiez @junebluues @yunoftheclouds @waterydream @pwippy @ivanttakethis @nottoonedin
#alien stage#alnst#alnst ocs#alien stage oc#alien stage ocs#alnst oc#alnst oc: toki#alnst oc: clove#alnst oc: horizon#alnst oc: seraph#alnst oc: ichor#alnst oc: lys#alnst oc: everest#alnst oc: briar#alnst oc: innamorati#alnst oc: aster#alnst ocs brambleclaw#alnst ocs starcrossed#alnst ocs melting#alnst ocs colorblind#i wasnt joking chat this genuinely took 17 hours and 20 minutes according to procreate im. how. idk how it took that long#zen's alnst art#zen's alnst oc lore/notes/logs
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Yours to Hold
For Fluffbruary Day 13 (Choice)
To be perfectly honest: my brain is still not quite with it these days. But, I'm holding out hope that the fog will clear at some point soon (plz) and in the meantime here's a little one-shot I managed! Hope it's enjoyable 💜 (Click above to read on AO3 or see below the cut)
It had been months since Scarif. Most of it he had spent recovering from his injuries. All of it, he had spent wondering why he could face death more easily than he could face life, face her and all she represented. Hope. Happiness. Home. He had come outside to think, hoping the bracing cold might clear his head and deliver an answer. He knew how he felt about her, knew what he wanted. What he was searching for was the courage to try–to choose a future that extended beyond the next mission; something permanent and lasting and full of possibilities. Something not for the Rebellion, but for himself. Something to be shared…
Of all the planets Cassian had been sent to during his time with the Rebellion, Hoth was by far his least favorite.
Maybe it was because it was frigid as hell.
Or maybe it was because the loose snow sliding beneath his foot had a tendency to remind him of sand…
Or because sometimes, when a storm blew in, the horizon disappeared, a blinding white, returning him to the awful edge of oblivion; a planet devoured before his very eyes…
Already, dark clouds were beginning to encroach upon the brief glimpse of blue sky he had managed to snatch. By his estimate he had maybe fifteen minutes left in the fresh air before he would need to retreat back into the gloom of Echo Base. He dreaded the thought, his head aching in memory of the harsh halogen lighting, chest tightening as he pictured the maze of tight, winding tunnels leading to crowded and too-small ‘rooms’.
Sure, on Yavin 4 he had been forced to check his bed every night in case a poisonous Yavinian centipede had wandered in, but it had also offered places to turn to when he sought solitude–jungle trees that he could lean against instead of the frozen rock wall at his back now.
At best, Hoth could offer him a barely habitable tundra to wander onto that–conditions permitting–would host him for maybe thirty minutes before the threat of frostbite drove him back into the Rebellion’s cramped quarters.
“Cassian?”
Even through the harsh whispers of the rising wind he recognized her voice–three, barely audible syllables and suddenly the icy air didn’t seem quite so cutting.
Jyn marched towards him, head ducked low against the wind, arms crossed over her chest, hands clutching her elbows in a tight self-embrace. A gray hat covered her head and a scarf to match was wrapped around her neck, the end of it tucked into the parka she wore–standard-issue blue, and seemingly at least a size too large–the sleeves hanging well-past her hands.
She stopped when she reached him and peered up at him, cheeks turned scarlet from the burning cold, loose strands of hair blowing across her face and over her brilliant green eyes.
He’d come out here to be alone. To think. And yet, suddenly all the thoughts in his head seemed out of reach, as did any semblance of speech.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked incredulously.
Cassian cleared his throat and gestured upwards. “You just missed it.”
“Missed what? I didn’t know there were any new arrivals scheduled today…”
He shook his head. “No, not a ship. Sky.”
Jyn tilted her head back, eyeing the infinity above them skeptically. “Pretty sure it’s still there, Cass,” she commented.
“Clear sky,” Cassian elaborated. “Blue sky. Remember that?”
“I’ve heard of it,” she laughed, and the sound was meant for his ears (as all sounds are), but somehow it wasn’t something he heard so much as felt–winding its way through him, leaving warmth and energy in its wake, before settling somewhere against his heart.
“Cass? Hello?”
“Sorry.” Cassian blinked, snow from his eyelashes melting against his cheeks and blurring his vision. “What did you say?”
Jyn rolled her eyes. “I asked if it was worth it, but I think I have my answer. The cold’s clearly gone to your brain.” She turned her back to the wall and leaned against it beside him, looking at him expectantly.
It wasn’t the cold making him so addle-minded, Cassian knew it wasn’t that. No, it was something far more daunting, far more potent, and definitely not as easily shaken.
Jyn looked away from him, out onto the increasingly hazy landscape. “Were you really just out here to look at the sky?” she asked quietly.
She knew the truth, or at least part of it. She always did. He didn’t know how, but she did, the same way he knew he didn’t have to answer her–that she didn’t expect him to. His silence would say enough.
“It’s suffocating in there,” she murmured. “Not enough light, not enough air.”
“Too many people,” he added quietly.
She nodded. “Too many,” she agreed. “But out here it’s…”
“Quiet. Gives you a chance to think.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Sometimes.”
She peered at him from beneath frost-covered lashes. Lips quirked in a pensive, knowing smile. “What about today?”
Today? Today his eyes had been drawn to Jyn the moment she entered the mess hall; had followed her every step with a sort of dizzying wonder that was at once exhilarating and terrifying. Today Chirrut, sitting beside him, had nudged him pointedly and asked, ‘What are you waiting for, Captain?’
But there wasn’t a single answer, there was an entire swarm of doubts that continued to plague him.
It had been months since Scarif. Most of it he had spent recovering from his injuries. All of it, he had spent wondering why he could face death more easily than he could face life, face her and all she represented. Hope. Happiness. Home.
He had come outside to think, hoping the bracing cold might clear his head and deliver an answer. He knew how he felt about her, knew what he wanted. What he was searching for was the courage to try–to choose a future that extended beyond the next mission; something permanent and lasting and full of possibilities. Something not for the Rebellion, but for himself. Something to be shared…
“Today, it was a good thing,” he said at last. It was a good thing because having Jyn in his thoughts, even if they were anxious ones, was still having Jyn there, with him–a sudden, strange, and unexpected source of strength and light.
She pushed herself off the rock wall and stepped in front of him, so close he could see the individual hairs that were caught up in her eyelashes, fixed in place by her hat and the wind. “Tell me about them,” she said. “The good thoughts.”
Waking up in the infirmary to find her there, resting at his bedside, arms folded beneath her head…
Hearing her laugh for the first time, a proper laugh as he and K2 bickered over something inane; he’d forgotten the fight the moment he heard the sound, caught himself automatically smiling in response…
Her surprising patience during his recovery, tempering his own frustrations; the way she’d always been there to sit with him in silence after a particularly trying day…
A quiet corner of the galaxy, somewhere verdant and warm and free of war; Jyn standing beside him, always beside him…
Instead of answering, he found himself pinning the fingertips of one of his gloves between his back and the rock and tugging his hand free. His breath caught in his chest as he slowly reached towards her face, gently sweeping a finger over the surface of her forehead, sliding the hair away from her eyes.
He should have dropped his hand after that, should have pulled away, but instead, his palm moved instinctively to cup her cheek, the softness of her skin serving in stark contrast to the bite of the air around it.
Jyn stared at him, something unreadable in her eyes as she searched his face. “Your fingers are cold,” she said softly, even as she slowly removed her own gloves and reached for his hands, tugged his remaining glove away. “Let me warm them up…”
Time seemed to slow down as she folded her hands over his own, squeezing lightly, before bringing his fingers to her open mouth and breathing onto them, the warmth of her seeping into the chilled surface of his skin, setting fire to his stuttering heart.
“Jyn…” he murmured, but anything he might have thought to say to her stuck in his throat, forgotten and useless.
He leaned closer, till the breath that had been warming his hands was ghosting across his lips instead. And for a moment, that was all there was, just the sound and feel of their breathing: a whispered question so powerful, it blocked even the howl and bite of the rising storm.
Their eyes locked and held, the beginning notes of a song hanging in the air between them…
Cassian answered the call, tilting forward to press an eager kiss to Jyn’s lips.
A pleased hum buzzed against his mouth, matching the pull of her forming smile. She released his hands and leaned her weight against him as she rose to her toes, reaching to wind her fingers around his neck and into his hair.
He wrapped his arms around her, tightened the embrace, a wild melody tearing through him like thunder through spring air, full of promise.
When they parted, they did so slowly, scattering short kisses across cheeks and noses, and unable to resist one last deep, lingering kiss, before finally leaning away, just enough to clearly see each other’s faces.
The smug grin Jyn was giving him forced a soft laugh from Cassian. “What’s this look about?” he asked.
“Took you long enough,” she said softly as she stepped backwards, dragging the start of a trail in the deepening snow. “Now come on, you’ve been out here long enough–and I’ve got some ideas on how we can get warm.”
The plummeting temperatures didn’t seem capable of reaching him–not with the shadow of their kiss persisting on his lips–but Cassian didn’t bother to resist.
Jyn tugged gently on his arm, and he gladly followed
#rebelcaptain fluffbruary#rebelcaptain fanfic#rebelcaptain#jyn x cassian#b writes#is this fluff? maybe? idk? this is probably as close as i get anyways#the rebelcaptain network
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while i've been recovering from my semester i treated myself to making some Updated Ref Sheets for my Special Little Trio! and here they are!! new and improved buck, davey and minnie for your viewing pleasure. there's been a lot of little tweaks and changes to their designs since I first concepted them a year ago...!!
[Full image IDs/descriptions under the cut!]
[Image 1 ID: A digitally drawn reference sheet of Puzz's OC, Buck. He is a middle-aged white man with a barrel-chested, slightly pudgy build, big nose, thick mustache, and mostly-balding hairstyle with a single tuft of hair on the top of his head. The sheet shows Buck standing with one hand held out in a neutral pose and expression. There are three versions drawn: one with him wearing dark green boxer-briefs; one with him wearing a dark green turtleneck, khaki pants, ashy brown boots, and a pair of goggles on top of his head; and one with the same outfit, plus brown gloves and a tan jacket with many pockets and the collar popped, and the goggles now down over his eyes to reveal orange lenses. To the right are detail shots of his head in profile, with his mouth open, and without a mustache. A color guide runs along the top of the page. Written in the bottom right is "BUCK AKA THE INVINCIBLE BULKHEAD. He/Him, Gay, White American (Greek & Scottish Descent), Late 40's." End ID.]
[Image 2 ID: A digitally drawn reference sheet of Puzz's OC, Davey. He is a middle-aged Black man with a lanky build, amputated right arm, diagonal scar across his face, long eyelashes, large ears, thin mustache, thick eyebrows and curly hair in a ponytail. The sheet shows Davey standing with one hand held out in a neutral pose and expression. There are three versions drawn: one with him in just boxers; one with him wearing denim overalls, a tool belt, brown boots, and a pilot-esque helmet with goggles on top; and one with the same outfit, plus a brown glove, goggles down on his eyes to reveal yellow-orange lenses, and a massive prosthetic arm made out of cobbled-together junk, such as a blender, car muffler and toaster. To the right are detail shots of his hair down, face in profile, and the prosthetic from another angle. A color guide runs along the top of the page. Written in the top right is "DAVEY AKA DYNAMO. He/Him, bisexual, Afro-Puerto Rican, mid-late 40's." End ID.]
[Image 3 ID: A digitally drawn reference sheet of Puzz's OC, Minnie. She is a young white girl with a stocky build, freckles, buck teeth, and long red hair in braided pigtails. The sheet shows Minnie standing with one hand held out in a neutral pose and expression. There are three versions drawn: one with her in a pale yellow tank top and purple shorts; one with her wearing a school uniform-style white blouse, pleated gold-yellow skirt, high socks and tan mary jane shoes, with a pale yellow sweater tied around her shoulders and tan fingerless gloves; and one with the same outfit plus a brown shoulder bag, goggles with yellow-orange lenses, and big brown boots with contraptions, including bear trap soles and bottle rockets strapped to the sides. Above are detail shots of her hair down, from the back, her face in profile, plus a color guide. Written in the middle-right is "MINERVA (MINNIE) AKA LAST NERVE. She/her, Lesbian (yet to realize), White American (Greek, Scottish & French descent), Newly 13". End ID.]
[Image 4 ID: A digitally drawn reference sheet of Puzz's OC, Buck. He is a middle-aged white man with a barrel-chested, slightly pudgy build, big nose, thick mustache, and mostly-balding hairstyle with a single tuft of hair on the top of his head. The sheet shows four alternate outfits for Buck: first, pajamas consisting of a white t-shirt that reaches to his navel, dark green lounge pants, and red pull-on slippers. Second, an unzipped leather jacket over a grey hoodie, with jeans, black converse-style sneakers, and a black beanie hat. Third, a lime green tank top with an auto shop logo, jorts, sandals, a red-orange bandanna, and red-orange sweatbands on both wrists. Finally, a "formal" look with a forest green, plaid button-up t-shirt, khaki pants, red socks, and black heeled dress shoes, plus a watch on his left wrist. End ID.]
[Image 5 ID: A digitally drawn reference sheet of Puzz's OC, Davey. He is a middle-aged Black man with a lanky build, amputated right arm, diagonal scar across his face, long eyelashes, large ears, thin mustache, thick eyebrows and curly hair in a ponytail. The sheet shows five alternate outfits for Davey: first, pajamas/loungewear consisting of baggy grey sweatpants and blue slippers, with no shirt. Second, a baggy blue tank top, black shorts with white stripes down the sides, and sandals. Third, a "formal" look with a light blue button-up t-shirt, a red-orange bolo tie, pale yellow dress pants with a belt, dark blue socks, and dark brown dress shoes. Fourth, a pale yellow blouse with a flower pattern and wide, ruffled collar, skinny jeans, and brown boots. Finally, a baggy forest-green turtleneck (which appears to be one of Buck's) with the right arm tied off, skinny jeans, and blue slippers. End ID.]
[Image 6 ID: A digitally drawn reference sheet of Puzz's OC, Minnie. She is a young white girl with a stocky build, freckles, buck teeth, and long red hair in braided pigtails. The sheet shows five alternate outfits for Minnie: first, pajamas consisting of an oversized purple "VILLAIN CON '97" t-shirt with a skull logo, and dark green plaid shorts. Second, a version of her usual "school uniform" outfit, but with her pale yellow sweater being worn instead of tied around her shoulders. Third, a "punk" look with a grey t-shirt featuring "THE SKULL!" in flames, over a long sleeved black-and-white striped shirt, black pleated skirt with chains hanging off each side and safety pins on the hem, black tights, red socks, and black boots. Fourth, denim overalls over a short-sleeved pale yellow sweater and brown boots. Finally, a "formal" look consisting of a sleeveless pale yellow dress with a tan, semi-translucent section between neck and upper chest, and black dress shoes. End ID.]
[Image 7 ID: Two drawings of Davey, Buck, and Minnie lined up together, to showcase their size/height relation to each other. Davey is the tallest, with the top of Buck's head reaching about to his chin, and Minnie in turn reaching to just below Buck's shoulders. The first drawing shows them in their "usual" outfits - Davey in overalls with no prosthetic, Buck in his turtleneck with no jacket, and Minnie in her school uniform. The second shows them in their "villain" getups - all three with their goggles on, Davey with his prosthetic, Buck with his gloves and jacket, and Minnie with her bag and boots. End ID.]
#anonymous puzzler art#anonymous puzzler originals#tw bare chest#long post /#(mostly with the readmore but tumblr is silly sometimes so i figure better to tag!)#these three bust into your workplace to rob you wyd#i really wanna try and finally do artfight this year...! so i'm gonna put these on that account and try to finish other oc refs too!!#Villain Coded comic
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Evermore
Chapter 13. Magic carpet ride
Previous chapter
Masterlist
I've had an overwhelming amount of love on this story lately which is so lovely to see! Nadia means a lot to me so I'm eternally grateful that she has been received with such love <3
This chapter includes a large milestone in Pietro and Nadia's relationship.
pairing: Pietro Maximoff x OFC
warnings: Canon-typical violence, big sister Natasha, PTSD and trauma, Nadia totally isn't in denial, arguing with flirtatious overtones.
“You and Speedy did well in Moscow.” Tony’s voice filled my ears the moment I entered the kitchen, he was engrossed in something on his tablet, only glancing up momentarily.
I shrugged. “I always do well.” Pietro’s snort filled the room as he sat beside Steve at the island. I narrowed my eyes at him. He offered me a cheeky smirk and stretched his arms above his head, cracking his joints as he did so. The muscles in his biceps rippled as he moved, his shirt tightening across the expanse of his back. I gulped down the green juice that was in my hand, averting my gaze the second his head turned in my direction.
“Good morning, friends,” Nat spoke beelining for the fridge and offering me a little smirk as she went. I rolled my eyes at her. She’d been giving me those looks anytime Pietro, and I were in a room together since we arrived back at the compound a week ago. I was choosing to face what had occurred, or almost occurred, in Moscow the way I faced anything that made me uncomfortable… by completely avoiding and ignoring it. Unfortunately for me, Natasha wasn’t the only constant reminder that followed me around, there was this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach that refused to go away, combined with a brain fog that stuck to my side like Pietro Maximoff.
“I’m thinking the theme should be 60s.” Tony suddenly said, still looking down at his tablet.
Nat gasped and clapped her hands together. “God, I love a themed party.”
“Is that when you were born?” I asked Tony teasingly.
“Excuse you?”
I shrugged, finishing my juice in a large gulp. “Well, it is your birthday party.”
“First of all, I was born in the 70s smart ass how old do you think I am? Second, I am touched that you actually remembered my birthday.”
“I was born in 1920!” Steve spoke glancing at the dark-haired man with raised eyebrows.
My laughter chorused with someone else’s and the moment I noticed it was Pietro’s I abruptly stopped, forcing the smile to drop from my face.
Natasha giggled to herself as Pietro shot me a disbelieving look. “Come on, Nads, I need your help finding an outfit for the party.” She wandered out of the room, gesturing me to follow. I fought to ignore the gaze that burnt into my back as I walked out behind her.
…
I dragged my hand over the array of brightly colored fabrics hanging off of the rack. Nat had dragged me along to a vintage store in the city in search of a ‘swinging sixties’ appropriate outfit.
“So… when are you going to address the elephant that seems to hang out in every room you share with a certain Sokovian.” A groan fell from my lips, and I attempted to walk ahead of her. “I’m not letting this go!” She called after me.
“There is no elephant, Natasha.”
She hummed. “Right, but you no longer loathe him with all the fire of a thousand suns?”
“You asked me to try! You and Steve practically scolded me for not being the president of his fan club. Remember the whole sparring partners, mission partners, never giving Nadia a break from Pietro Maximoff’s insufferable ass, thing.”
Her giggles filled my ears. “You are so ridiculous.”
I shot her a look of indignation, coming to an abrupt halt before her. “I am ridiculous?! Have you met that idiot?” I ran a hand through my hair. “He is insolent and stubborn-”
“Nadia, you are the most stubborn person I have met in my entire life.”
Her words incensed me further. “I am not stubborn, I…” Natasha’s smug look cut me off. I huffed and turned back toward the clothing rack.
“Argue it all you want but Steve and I were right to put you two together. Look at how far you’ve both come, as much as you claim to hate his guts, you work well together. You just completed a mission that was way more complex than projected and look at how much Pietro’s combat skills have improved after the months you’ve been training him.” I shook my head at her, not dignifying her with a response. For a long moment, neither of us spoke, but Nat continued to watch me. “They didn’t teach us how to love… I know that. They taught us to manipulate, to lie, to kill, but never how to feel anything really worth feeling.” I did not look at her; couldn’t. “And yet, despite everything you have loved, and you have shown love to people… maybe not in particularly conventional ways but fuck convention… you still have.”
I told her I didn’t know what she meant.
“Nadia.” Her eyes were glassy when I looked up, lines with a stream of liquid that glimmered under the lights. “Do you really think I don’t know what they would have done to you?” I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat and looked away yet again. “I know that it cost you, to keep my secret.”
My body was trembling violently, my upper half folded over my legs. I pressed my fingertips into the flesh of my calves, to remind myself I was still alive. Was it my birthday yet? Natasha had snuck a gift into my room before she left, a postcard.
‘Wish you were here’ printed over an illustration of what I believed to be New York City. A single word was inscribed in her handwriting on the other side.
‘Свобода.’
Freedom.
I’d shredded it into tiny, minuscule pieces the moment I’d read it, destroying any trace of the note. It hadn’t mattered much. Natasha and I were extremely close, and familial. If she were to tell anyone where she was going, it would have been me.
The torture started on a Thursday, I no longer knew what day it was, only that the weekend had come and gone.
“It ends whenever you want it to, Nadia.”
The sharp, glacial spray of high-pressure ice water rained down over my bare back, causing me to cry out. I was still small, but I’d endured torture before, not like this though. I wondered how much longer my body would hold on, my flesh had become so numb that I barely even felt the hits anymore, the ice water was the only thing that elicited any response at this point. I watched as my blood pooled with the water, dripping from my mouth and nose and God knows where else, swirling down the drain. A rough hand grabbed my chin, yanking my head up, Matron Katerina. Her thin, spindly fingers dug into my pale flesh. I had become too weak to hold my head up on my own.
“I don’t know,” I swore to her. “I am not a traitor. If I knew where she was, I’d kill her myself.”
We’d talked about New York a lot. It became almost a figment of our imagination, a magical place where anything was possible, a place where we’d be safe.
“Freedom,” I murmured.
The tears streamed down her cheeks, but she wiped at them quickly, taking a deep breath. “You were so little, Nadia, you were so small, and still you protected me… You are not this heartless entity that doesn’t feel things just as strongly as the rest of us. I just wish that when you did, you’d let yourself.”
I picked a mini skirt off of the rack, examining it in silence for a moment. “You saw him die?” I tilted my head in her direction. Her silence prompted me to clarify. “Dreykov, you saw him die when you destroyed the Red Room.”
“He’s dead, Nads.”
“Are you sure?” She furrowed her eyebrows at me, and I placed the skirt back. “At the factory, Obolensky said something to me. He said that the drug samples were going to the ‘next batch of girls'.”
Natasha shook her head, taking a step toward me and placing a gentle, tentative hand on my shoulder. “It’s gone. For good. Obolensky always played mind games, it’s his forte. He’s just trying to live in your head, don’t let him.”
I nodded slowly. She was right, Obolensky's main objective in the Red Room was to teach the widows how to use psychological warfare to obtain information; manipulation was his specialty. It was not out of character for him to lie just to have us living on edge, he’d said he wanted to make me suffer, how better to achieve that than to put in my head that it was still happening? No. I was sure Natasha was right. I attempted to swallow down the uneasy feeling that sat within me.
“This is cute,” Nat said, fiddling with the hem of a dress,
“Have you ever watched the ballet?”
Natasha offered me another incredulous look. “They made us dance it, not watch it. I don’t remember ever seeing ballet performed by someone other than us.”
I nodded, fiddling with my fingers. “I know, that’s what I thought… It’s just something else Obolensky said. I probably just need to get a decent night’s sleep.” I shook my head, running my fingers through my hair once more and taking a deep, settling breath. My nerves were still shot from Moscow and the reunion with Obolensky. I grabbed a lime green mini dress from the rack, holding it up in front of Natasha. “I want this one.” She grinned, nodding approvingly at my choice.
…
“Faster.”
His heavy breathing filled my ears. “I’m trying.”
“Not hard enough.” I adjusted the wraps on my hands before returning to my defensive position in front of Pietro. “Again.” He threw two more jabs which I easily dodged, narrowing my eyes at him. I continued to taunt him as we sparred.
“Can you please be a little nicer to me?”
I rolled my eyes. “Your punches are much better, and your stance is perfect. Now work harder.”
Pietro’s scowl turned into a beaming smile. “Thank you, I’ve been practicing.” I chose not to respond. We still had not addressed that day in Moscow, I was content with leaving it that way. Though, I was hoping at some point the bizarre tension between us would dissolve. “Are you excited for Stark’s party?”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “What is this? Chit chat?”
“We’re friends, is that not what friends do?”
A choked laugh fell from my lips. “Since when are we friends?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten our bonding moment in Moscow?” It was as if he could read my mind and pick out the most irritating things to bring up. I narrowed my eyes at his reference to that day. Of course, I remembered. The warmth of his hands on my cheeks, his breath ghosting over my lips, the look in his eyes. I swallowed heavily and the corners of his lips upturned into a look so dangerous it had my heart racing. “I just mean you finally admitting you don’t actually hate me.”
“Not completely loathing you is not the same as being your friend.” I hoped it served as a shift in conversation tone, attempting to ignore the flush that crept up my neck.
His smile only grew, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “I think we’re friends.”
“I’m sure you do.”
The air was so thick between us it felt almost impossible to inhale. He raised his eyebrows teasingly and what he did next was infuriating in every way. His eyes moved ever so slowly down to my lips and his tongue peaked out, wetting his own, before his eyes met mine again. He squinted at me for a second, daring, taunting. “Are you bringing someone?”
My teeth were gritted as I willed my heart to slow. When would I have had time to even speak to someone else? I shrugged. “I haven’t decided, but when I do you will be the very first to know.”
The look in his eyes changed, a smirk sat casually on his lips, but his eyes seemed different to me then. “Maybe I should bring someone special.” This game was different, one we’d yet to play. I wasn’t sure if I liked it.
“Maybe you should.”
His teeth were revealed to me as his grin opened his mouth. When Obolensky smiled with his teeth it uneased me, yet it was different when it was Pietro. An entirely different feeling rose along my spine, curving over my flesh. “Did you and Natasha get your outfits?” I hummed. “Will you show me yours?” No matter how much I attempted to fight it, to set my face with a scowl, it was useless. My lips upturned and an amused smile spread across my face.
“Can we spar now or are you going to keep talking?” I crossed my arms over my chest and popped my hip out, continuing to fight my budding grin.
“We can do whatever you want, Prinţesă.”
I rolled my eyes for what felt like the hundredth time. “Focus, Pietro.”
“Oh, I’m focused.”
As much as I attempted to ignore his incessant teasing my body seemed to have other ideas. I hated that it was so easy for him to get a reaction out of me. Generally, it was frustration but there were times, most times, when the frustration almost seemed to act more as a mask to something much more complex. I chose to ignore it, clinging to my anger instead. Anger was simple, it came easily to me.
By the time I was pulling the white Gogo boots onto my legs, my body felt like a live wire. I was on edge, awaiting his looks, his words; their undertones. As I wandered into the party, I smoothed a hand over the satin ribbon that sat just before the bump in my hair. People were strewn all over the place, sipping their drinks and filling the area with sound. I accepted a glass of bubbling wine from a tray carried by a man in a black vest, tucking the wrapped package beneath my arm. The sound of Steppenwolf played through the speaker system, traveling along the corridors. On the last step my eyes clapped on him, it drove me crazy how easy it was for me to spot him. He was wearing a plaid three-piece suit, dark green. Our eyes met and a smile tugged at his lips. Warmth rose along the path his eyes took over my body, lips to feet. My heart thrummed against my sternum and much to my chagrin I felt the corners of my lips pulling upward.
“Stop it right now!”
A glance over my shoulder revealed Natasha and Maria Hill staring at me, the former with wide eyes. “What?” I followed their eyes over my body, giving them both a bemused look.
“The way you look should be illegal. Seriously, I’m questioning a lot of things right now.” Agent Hill spoke up.
I rolled my eyes at the two women, doing a silly little spin for them before shrugging. The three of us laughed and fell into an easy rhythm, conversing about life since Sokovia. I’d always liked Maria, she was… real, I didn’t trust her with all of my secrets, but I wasn’t completely weary of her either. We’d worked together in the field a lot when I was an agent at S.H.I.E.L.D. We’d been a great team; I was glad that she’d stuck around.
“I’m sorry, are we just ignoring that Pietro has barely taken his eyes off of you in the last hour?” Natasha suddenly spoke, an exasperated expression evident on her features. Maria choked on her drink but quickly covered her laugh with a cough when I turned my harsh gaze to her. I glanced over my shoulder at the offending silver-haired man. He offered me a sly smile when our eyes met, excusing himself from Steve and Wanda to approach me. When I turned back around, I caught sight of Tony over Maria’s shoulder. I ignored the look Natasha gave me, shifting swiftly and walking past her.
Tony was talking to Rhoadey when I approached, the latter appearing thoroughly irritated with his good friend. “Happy birthday.” I spoke when Tony spotted me, I quickly shoved the package into his hands. My eyes darted around as he unwrapped it, attempting to seem nonchalant irrespective of the nerves that clawed at me. “It’s just something small, what does one even give a bazillionaire anyway?” I rambled. He was silent as he flipped through the book, each page printed with an image. One, a picture I’d taken of a wall where someone had spray painted a thank you note, another of Tony messing around with his suits, the caption reading ‘always tinkering’. I’d had to collect images from Pepper, Rhoadey, and the rest of the team to make it. “I don’t know if it’s stupid. Maybe it is.” I watched intently as he reached the final page, an image of the team sitting in the old Avengers tower out of our suits, drinks in hand; calm. The caption beneath read ‘a strange, dysfunctional, irritating family. A family nonetheless.’ I wrung my hands together, looking anywhere but at him as he lifted his gaze.
“It’s not stupid, Nadia.” Finally, I met his eyes. “Not at all.” The look in his eyes said a lot more than any words he could have spoken. I preferred it this way, unspoken, mutually acknowledged.
“Happy birthday,” I repeated.
He smiled at me then and it caused something deep within me to shift.
Stars shining bright above you.
It was the boy at the dinner table across from me, the one who spilled the water all over the table, he was there again. Or a flash of him was anyway, just for a split second, and then he was Tony again. I clutched my head.
Dream a little dream of me.
“Why do you keep playing this song?”
He furrowed his eyebrows at me. “What do you mean?”
“Dream a little dream of me. What is this song from?”
Tony seemed utterly baffled by my question, but there was something else in his eyes, something small and pained; something personal. “I don’t know, it’s a good song. What is your deal? You freaked out in the tower when it played too. Why do you hate it so much?”
I shook my head, blinking rapidly, feeling slightly disoriented. Tony said my name, but I turned away from him quickly, mumbling an excuse as I began to leave his side. Pietro filled my line of sight prompting me to change paths once again. My head was spinning slightly. Everything was suddenly too much, too loud, too close, I needed to be out of this room. A breeze wrapped around me and before I knew it, I was deposited on a balcony in the fresh air. I whirled around to see Pietro watching me, concern evident across his features. The music was much quieter out here and the song had changed. I could breathe again.
The Sokovian man wandered past me, leaning his forearms over the railing, and inhaling deeply. His broad back flattened the fabric of his suit, it was hard to tear my eyes away. The moonlight gleamed around his body, illuminating him.
“I did not need your help…”
“No, you never do.”
I fiddled with the flared sleeves of my dress. “Thank you.”
“Why are you avoiding me?” He continued staring out at the inky black sky as he spoke.
“I’m not.” He let out a theatrical puff of air, glancing at me over his shoulder with furrowed eyebrows. My eyes closed for a moment, a sigh falling from me. “Why would you even care if I was avoiding you? I thought you were going to bring someone special?” Pietro shot me an unimpressed look over his shoulder, though, I saw the way his lips upturned.
“Well, it’s not like you would have noticed either way.”
I ignored his words. “Couldn’t you find someone willing to deal with you for a night?”
“You seem to ‘deal’ with me just fine.”
“That’s different, we work together. I don’t have a choice.” Was my quick response. I paused for a moment before adding anything else. “I suppose what I meant to say is were you not able to find someone, other than me, to put up with you.”
“Well, therein lies the problem… I’m not sure I want to.” I opened my mouth to respond and then closed it again after a few seconds of floundering. I was sure my brain must have short-circuited. Words meet mouth, why could I not say anything? No witty retort or shielding taunt became apparent as I stared at him, lips parting slightly as he took a step toward me. “Are you okay?” He murmured gently; he was so soft with me. It was unfamiliar and frankly a little frightening. I wanted to say something, I wanted to speak tohim. My lips formed his name. It was almost as if it acted as a beckon to him as he took another step toward me the second it left me. He repeated his question.
I nodded twice, watching him carefully. “I’m fine.”
“You usually say that when you’re not.”
“I am. It’s just that-” I stopped myself short realizing I was about to tell him the truth. The words had come so easily I’d nearly let them flow right out.
“Just that what?”
I shook my head, pressing my fingers to the flesh of my forehead. “Nothing.”
“Don’t do that.”
I raised an eyebrow at him, fixing him with an icy glare. “Do what?”
“Nadia.” Another step forward, I was the one who moved I realized. The air between us was electric; dangerous. “Stop acting like you don’t feel anything.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I glared up at him, attempting to appear completely unaffected. “Is that how I’m acting? I was not aware you held so much insight into the inner workings of my brain.” His jaw clenched. There was something in his eyes then, something unrecognizable but somehow it thawed my attitude slightly. “I don’t know… It just… There are these strange things that come to me sometimes. It’s like I’m looking in on someone else’s life through a window. I don’t understand it and that frightens me.” The vulnerability rife in my statement made my stomach churn, sweat beading on the back of my neck despite the cool breeze dancing across my flesh.
He took another step toward me. “It’s okay to be frightened, Nadia.”
I shook my head. “Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Saying my name like that.” My feet brought me another step forward without my permission. “Stop looking at me like that. Stop being so…understanding.”
The warmth radiated off of Pietro, settling into my skin. I wondered if he was always this warm, maybe it was something to do with his enhancements. Even in Moscow, he’d surrounded me with heat each time our bodies made contact. “Why?” He murmured. “Am I making it hard to keep pretending?”
“I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”
“How does it make you feel?”
“Pietro.” It was soft, reminiscent of that night in Moscow in the dim glow of moonlight when I’d woken him from his nightmare. I didn’t know how to answer him, not without revealing too much of myself. I told myself that I didn’t have an answer but even I knew that was a lie. I wondered if perhaps I was simply not built for these kinds of feelings and that’s why it made me feel so strange. The sound of his name filling the small space between us had him taking another step toward me; fully entering my space now. His hand rose slowly, hovering between us, awaiting my permission. I met his eyes, icy blue, beautiful. I nodded gently. He closed the distance, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before caressing the spot just below my eye with his thumb.
His words drifted across my skin causing my eyelids to flutter closed. “I’m glad you did not show me your outfit the other day. It was worth the wait.” My head seemed to instinctually tilt toward the sound of his voice. “Do you like my suit?” Our eyes met and it became apparent that all it would take is one more tilt of my head and his lips would drag over mine. “Tell me.” He whispered when I remained silent.
I nodded gently, gazing up at him. “I do.” His lips curved up.
“What do you like about it?”
“You’re pushing it, Maximoff.” He breathed a laugh, eyes flicking downwards momentarily. I felt like I could barely breathe when he looked at me. “You look good, is that what you want me to say?”
It was his turn to nod.
“You drive me insane; you know that.”
“I drive you insane. What do you think you do you me?” His hand slipped from my cheek down to my jaw. “I wanted to kiss you in Moscow. You know that right?” His gaze was intense, unwavering and I felt like I was melting beneath his touch. “I’ve thought about it every night since. It’s like I’m losing my mind, every second that you stay away is pure torture.”
“I don’t want to torture you, Pietro.”
His lips tugged upward and when his nose grazed mine, I was sure I stopped breathing for a moment. Before I knew what I was doing, I felt my face tilt upwards slightly, leaning more into him. “So don’t.” Every rational thought slipped from my mind, and for a moment, the only thing that existed was him. His lips were soft like I thought they’d be, and extremely adept. Soft, and sweet. The kiss was gentle, and I knew from the moment his lips touched mine that I never wanted it to end.
He overtook every one of my senses. All I could smell, taste, and feel was him, and for some strange reason, his touch seemed to free me. We were so close that I could no longer tell where he ended, and I began. I supposed it didn’t matter, not when he was kissing me like I was the stars and the moon and the cosmos and nothing else had ever mattered. Even when our lips separated, I was still so engrossed in him that I could not open my eyes. We breathed into each other, foreheads resting together. For a long while it was just this moment until it wasn’t.
“I knew you were hot for me.” It was silly and not at all facetious, yet the sound of his voice pulled me from my reverie. It was as if a bucket of cold water was dumped over me and all of the sudden the moment was gone, and Pietro was too close. I lurched away from him, attempting to breathe evenly again. I couldn’t believe I’d been so weak, and let go so easily. It was pathetic and I hated myself. I don’t get to have this; this isn’t what I want. That’s what I told myself. “Are you okay?”
“This was a mistake…” My head was spinning.
Pietro’s face fell as he watched me and the look, he gave me then made everything so much worse. My eyes were stinging, and I resented the feeling that seared through my body. “What? No, Nadia, it was just a stupid joke, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
I shook my head, turning to the door that would lead me back inside, away from him. “It’s not what you said, it’s fine just forget it.” He grabbed my forearm to stop me from leaving, it was gentle, always gentle. “Don’t…” I couldn’t look at him as I said it.
“Don’t what? I don’t understand what happened, did I do something wrong?”
The stream of liquid that ran down my cheek enraged me. I shook my head firmly at him, slipping my arm from him and turning away fully. “Just let it go, Pietro. Let me go.”
“Nadia… look at me.”
I didn’t. Instead, I pushed through the balcony doors and re-entered the bustling party. Slipping through the crowd was easy, I’d been trained to move unseen, swift, and silent. The moment I pushed through the main door leading out of the party I let myself sink into the wall, leaning my head back and taking a deep breath. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and shook my head as if to clear my overwhelmed mind. My body trembled and I felt sick to my stomach. Not because of the touch that still lingered on my flesh, but because of the look Pietro had set me with before I left. It was burned into the back of my eyelids. My heart thumped against my sternum. Why didn’t I walk away from him the moment he moved toward me? Why did I tell him the truth? I could have lied, deflected with cold indifference, and have been free of this. I let him bait me, let him lure me into his kindness, into his unabashed truthfulness, and lost control of myself. The worst part is that I knew where it would end if I played along, and I did it anyway. It was as if I’d wanted to end up there. I shook my head again, running a hand through my hair and letting my eyes fall shut.
My peace did not last long, a voice echoed down the hall. “How are you doing?” I glanced toward the sound, it was Rhoadey, but I could not see him.
Another familiar voice piped up in response. “Oh, just superb! You know me, it’s always a party here.” Tony. They must have been around the corner.
It became abundantly clear to me that this was a conversation I was not meant to overhear as Rhoadey continued. “I know it’s harder on days like this… to feel like something’s missing. Like someone, who is supposed to be here, who should have been here isn’t.” I furrowed my eyebrows at the words.
“Let’s not do this whole thing, Rhoadey. Really, I’m fine.”
“I’d be worried if you were fine man. There’s no shame in feeling it.” A loud sigh echoed off the walls. “I’m not going to tell you how to grieve, Tony.”
“Oh, great thanks.” Was the man’s sarcastic reply.
I could almost picture Rhoadey’s exasperated expression. “However-” a jumble of profanities cut him off momentarily. “I am going to tell you not to act like you’re not feeling anything. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, but you cannot just pretend it never happened. You can’t deal with it by forgetting or compartmentalizing, you have to talk about her.”
“Don’t.” I’d never heard Tony sound like that, there was a sternness to his tone, a sharp, demanding edge that left no room for argument. “I did not ask to have some deep and meaningful with you about this, James. We are not talking about her, not ever, so stop riding my ass about healthy grieving or whatever the hell and drop it!” Rhoadey attempted to protest but Tony spoke up again, cutting him off. “It’s all good, just have another drink, Rhoades.” He was back to his normal, nonchalant demeanor but there was an undertone in his voice that gave away that it was not all good.
Silence filled the hall once more, I decided to leave, not wanting to intrude any further on this evidently private conversation.
#pietro maximoff fanfiction#pietro maximoff x ofc#pietro marvel#aaron taylor johnson#marvel fanfiction#avengers fanfiction#marvel avengers#aaron taylor johnson fanfiction#aaron taylor johnson smut#aaron taylor johnson x reader#atj smut#pietro x reader#marvel smut#avengers smut#pietro maximoff#pietro maximoff x reader#pietro maximoff smut
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Character lineup, Transitus historical redesign edition. In their sepia tone versions, in actual artwork they’d be drawn against some pretty vibrant painted backgrounds. Come back to me on that. Been meaning to do this for a while!
Have some design notes:
Daniel - Third from left. In @hawthorn-crow’s words: "like a stiff breeze would blow him over." His shoulders/upper body have deliberately been scaled down from that of real-life Tommy Karevik. I don’t know how else to say this but if I were Henry I wouldn’t be easing around in my brother’s personal life if he could drop kick me directly into the sun. Looks pretty normal, all things considered. The "standout" trait comes from the trust fund kid status: his clothes have a LOT of variety. Literally a different jacket, vest and tie almost every single scene in a period where that was not something easily attainable. Common thing between all of the ‘normal’ outfits is the little watch chain, somewhat prominently displayed.
Abby - Third from right. The exact opposite as Daniel; cycles through two or three outfits maximum outside of her work uniform before 1884. Her box braids are thicker than the original design. Has a pair of emerald drop earrings; gift from the himbo. As for the shoes, homegirl is working minimum 13-hour days, for Christ’s sake, put some treads on those industrial strength high heels. She likes quilting Why? Cause I said so and wanted her to have hobbies like human beings do. The dress shown here is one fabric/color all the way down, but the seams form a fun little pattern that looks nothing like fire haha what.
Henry - Second from left. Lots of age lines, grey streaks. Visibly much older than Daniel. Loads of aggressive angles, you want a sense of the douchebag aura from a distance. Literally Andrew Carnegie but with none of the redeeming qualities. Really narcissistic and intent on showing off his status and is thus obsessed with outward appearance. Sharply dressed and deliberately so. Flashy, patterned waistcoats and one very expensive and painstakingly tended to pair of sideburns.
Lavinia - Second from right. Same as Abby, just a few outfits to her name and sturdier shoes. Though she comes off to me as someone who has expensive tastes that can’t be pursued to their fullest extent. Don’t we all. Pays close attention to new fashion and alters her existing clothes (and hair) accordingly under budget. Is keen on appearing above her station, though not with any malicious intent. More just a desire to fit in and look nice.
Abraham - Far right. The beta version of Abraham of from the earbook bonus pages is peak and this is very heavily inspired by that. Has not purchased any major clothing items for himself since the mid 1860s; he’s got other priorities. Any new stuff is smaller, and usually cut from the same material as Lavinia’s skirts. Fabrics are worn out (along with their dyes) and lots of layers are worn as a result. Outermost layer that he wears pretty much everywhere on account of it being the only coat he has is a bleached and dyed Union army jacket.
Dee - Far left. Entire character is defined by being stuck in the past. Like Abraham his clothes are very 1860s based but in a more fashion forward and emotionally stunted, "I never got over my wife dying a d am making it my kids’ problem" way, as opposed to the much more reasonable "being impoverished" route. Hair is also very much mid-century and meant to look out of place next the shorter, clean-cut 70s/80s style that Henry has. ….old. Like basically on death’s door, he kicks the bucket almost immediately after Daniel does.
#ayreon#Just….transitus#man….#So excited to have some genuine notes for their design that work within the era AND inform their characters it is POSSIBLE#tommy karevik#cammie beverly#paul manzi#amanda somerville#johanne james#dee snider#arjen lucassen#character design#character illustration#character sheet#Period drama#the gilded age#1880s#historical fashion#Lavinia’s arms look a little weird but whatever
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Here's a song I wrote called "Gorgeous Georgia Sky" because Tumblr seems like a safe abyss to scream into
That old front door
creaks open on a
spring day.
I step out of that
house we lived
in for 50 years
I've got those same
old leather boots on
and that hat pulled
past my ears.
It's almost the same
as it always was
the only thing that's
missing dear is you.
I've still got that
old hickory cane
with the lionhead
I go and sit near the lane
and stare up at that
gorgeous Georgia sky
I just know your
looking down
with that mindful eye.
I do that quite a lot
these days if I'm
honest most my
time now is
spent in a daze.
But staring at
that sky sitting
on our deck
brings me back
to many a time
on my trek.
Whether that be
my time in the
Air Force or
our wedding or
the birth of our
very first son that
gorgeous Georgia sky
and me were always
bestest friends.
Since I was born
I've looked into
that sky my dad
always taught me
to he was such
a gentle guy.
Whether day or
whether night
always looking
in the sky
about 10 years
old we went from
Georgia up to Maine
on our own dime
the sights to
see in those skies
there and in-between
that was such a time.
I'd climbed mountains
by 13 been up
in tree houses
overlooking
the green my
dad was always
with me my
mother was too
sick we always
brought back
photographs from
each of our trips.
16 back with that
gorgeous Georgia sky
oh those clouds
never did tell a lie,
by 18 my mother
had died but that
was alright we had
that sky to look to.
We always knew she was
looking down at us
because we knew even
up in heaven she'd
throw a fit let me
see my son and
husband again
those were her
words I'll bet.
22 I'd joined the
Air Force ready to
fly planes and just
get away never saw
a war never saw
much combat just
me and the sky
oh how peaceful.
Well Im looking
to that gorgeous
Georgia sky and
I really hope this
is where I die.
By that old
creek where we
used to fish
and swim in
this old house
ready to give in.
By 26 I was out
moved back in
with dad to take
care of him,
he'd grown sick
just like mamma
had before.
Had these coughing
fits with blood
end up lying on
the floor gasping
for breath there
was nothing I
could do I watched
my dad die that's
when life went askew.
Packed up my shit
and sold the house
nothing left there
but painful memories
I grew my hair long
and let it flap
in the breeze
I lived out of
hotels and vans
that's right I did
this before the
popular man.
I guess I did
it selfishly had
to get away
wasn't no
more life
with living
anyway
about 5 years
of this and
I'd straightened
myself out cut my
hair short and trimmed
up my beard moved
to New York at 31
married my love
at 33 the same
love I'm missing
today by 35 I was
homesick pretty
typical of me.
I showed you
my childhood
and said "love
can I please go
home just for
a week?"
And to my
surprise you said
"Really just a week
that's rather bleak
let me come with you
and we'll stay as
long as you want let's
hop on that Greyhound
bus tonight."
We arrived days later
when the rain
it was light
I stepped off
that bus to
see my home
the one I'd
sold years ago.
The vines had
overtaken it
there were holes
in the roof I still
longed for the
touch god I
missed it just
as much it
proved to me
that day that
memories never
fade no matter
how painful
they were the day
they were made.
I bought that house
back and spent the
next 50 years fixing
it outside and in
only for it to
relive it's glory
once you'd flown
up above with him
I wish you were here
today to see the
way it is it's not
my father's home
it's mine and it's
got the scars to
prove it.
It's been 32
years since
the kids moved
away and I've
still got the
height marks
by the doorframe
in the dining room
where we never
ate at all.
I can't believe
it's been 3 years
since you've gone
but I didn't
go crazy like
with my dad John
I know how to
grieve now and
I'm glad you
taught me that
otherwise I'd be
an old drunk
laying on the mat.
Oh Dorothy
Oh Dorothy
every time I feel
a teardrop in my eye
I look out in that
gorgeous Georgia sky
it'll never be as
pretty as you were
and none of the
stories I read
about him and her
will ever be close to ours
every time I close my
eyes Dorothy I see
your name in
the stars just
know you'll
always have
my heart.
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Lheru, Hengeyokai Druid
Hair like willow leaves drapes down over a dusky face, traces of autumnal yellow or a deep vernal green touching about the dark, wintery black. The strands are pulled back and tied away from the face in a messy bundle reaching down to her shoulders. A few stray bangs inevitably escape, draping loosely to the middle of her right cheek where a strange swirling blue triskelion mark sits. A long thin scar cuts across from her chin to her hairline half an inch above her ears. The blue mark, more a glossy birthmark than a tattoo, seems unmarred by this old injury. Hands and arms tattooed with cherry blossoms fall back to her side and yellow eyes speckled with tiny dots of emerald green here and there opened to look out on the passing terrain.
"My name is Lheru. Where I come from, they would call me hengeyokai. Shiftling would do in your tongue." The voice is silk-smooth as the sound of wind drifting through the leaves and across the surface of a river. All softened by delicately woven threads. "I'm seeking… answers."
Her thoughts drift to the mark and the scar that had tried and failed to ruin it. Her parents had reacted with such fear, and yet it was not a mark anyone else she'd met in her homeland recognized aside from rumors that had brought her further east, to the edges of this land call Oerik.
"In the meantime, I hope to be of aid and help," she explained. "Pay back some of the debt my parents accrued over time." She smiles and reaches over to ruffle the fur of the large white fox that lies beside her.
Lheru is a child of a human woodcutter and a spider-spirit. Not an unheard of origin, but as she came to her fifteen birthday, a symbol started appearing on her cheek. Her parents were concerned, even fearful as the symbol became distinct over the next few months, and at one point even tried to cut it away... which was when she ran.
Since then, she's learned that her parents may have treated her well (until the mark on her face appeared) but they apparently weren't the nicest of people to anybody else. She began to understand why they lived off in a shack by themselves. She decided to head off and go somewhere far away from either of her parents and make something of her own life.
Meanwhile the scar of where her parents tried to cut symbol away didn't not stop the symbol from repairing itself.
Image from Nioh 2, I used their character creator.
It's been a while since I messed around with DnD 3.5e
Str: 13 Dex: 15 (17) Con: 13 Int: 15 Wis: 16 Cha: 11 Native Outsider
HP: 9 AC: 16 (Leather, Heavy Wooden Shield, Dex), Hybrid form: 17 Speed: 30ft
Animal Type: Spider (uses Monkey Stats) Hybrid Form: +4 Climb checks, +2 Dex Animal Form: Tiny, 30ft Speed, Climb 30ft, AC: 14, Bite 1d3-4 Str 3, Dex 15, Con 10
Languages: Common, Hengeyokai, Goblin
Skills - Concentration 4 (+5) - Craft (Weaving) 2 (+4) - Diplomacy 2 (+4) - Handle Animal 2 (+4) - Hide 1 (+3, Hybrid +4) - Knowledge (Nature) 2 (+6) - Listen 1 (+5) - Move Silently 1 (+3, Hybrid +4) - Spot 1 (+5) - Survival 4 (+9) - Swim 2 (+3)
Feats: - Aberrant Mark (Pass Without Trace)
Animal Companion: "Fog-on-the-River" Large White Fox (Wolf stats) - HD: 2d8+4, HP: 13 - Str 13, Dex 15, Con 15, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 6 - Speed 50ft - AC: 14, Touch: 12, Flat-Footed: 12 - Initiative: +2 - Trip, Low-light vision, scent, Track, Weapon Focus (bite) - Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +1 - Hide +2, Listen +3, Move Silently +3, Spot +3, Survival +1* - Bite +3 melee (1d6+1) Wild Empathy Nature Sense
Leather Armor Heavy Wooden Shield Shortspear (1d6) Holly and Mistletoe Wooden Holy Symbol/Druidic Focus Backpack 50 ft Silk Rope Traveler's Outfit Weaver's Tools Spell Component Pouch (Druidic Flavor) Journal Inkpen Vial of Black Ink
4 Gold, 9 Silver
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Cowboy Like Me
Pariring: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x F!Reader
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: alcohol consumption and implied smutty times
Word Count: 702
Author’s Notes: I was on my way to work one morning and this song came on and then this fic happened as soon as I got to work. I really love it and who knows there could be a follow up? We shall see. Thank you to @clint-aww-no-barton and I hope you all enjoy!
ao3 link
And the tennis court was covered up With some tent-like thing And you asked me to dance But I said, "Dancing is a dangerous game" Oh, I thought This is gonna be one of those things Now I know I'm never gonna love again
The chattering of people and the almost too loud music filled the air. The sun was starting to set in the sky making the scene look like a panting. The tent above you provided just enough cover from the elements, but not so much it kept the cool breeze from flowing through. You let out a content sigh, before taking a sip of the drink you were nursing.
Food had already been served, the newly married couple cutting their cake and making a show of it. You had laughed along with everyone else, filled with love for the couple. Two of your dearest coworkers had finally decided to tie the knot and it had been a beautiful affair.
People now were starting to stand from their tables and make their way onto the dance floor on the other side of the tent. You sat watching as everyone moved about, laughing at the kids and their silly dance moves. You finished the dark liquor in your glass and set it down, before leaning your forearms on the table, still wearing a content smile.
“You want to dance?” His voice pulled you out of your watching, and you looked over at him.
“Dancing is a dangerous game Mr. Daniels,” you smirked, but despite your words you stood.
“Ahhh well, we know all about danger don’t we?”
You and Jack Daniels definitely knew a thing or two about danger. The two of you were agents with Statesman, an intelligence agency. You had been by his side since you started as his partner, and the two of you worked together incredibly well. Jack had been promoted and sent to New York, and after a new slew of agents came in you had followed him. You felt like a better agent with him by your side.
“That we do,” you smiled and took Jack’s outstretched hand.
He pulled you with him to the dance floor, just in time for a slow song to come on. He placed his hands on your hips pulling you too close and you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Did you pay the DJ to play a slow song right on cue?”
“And what if I did?”
You just laughed, shaking your head at the man in front of you. The two of you had been pining after each other for a while now. Neither of you really knew why you hadn’t just gone for it yet.
“Weddings are the best place for new relationships to blossom,” Jack looked down at you with a smirk, and you didn’t stop yourself from catching his eyes.
“Yes they are. All the love in the air, the dancing, the alcohol…” you faded off with a laugh. “Too perfect of a place.”
Your eyes kept locked to his and you felt your stomach flutter, your heart beat pounding in your ears.
“I must say, you look incredibly breathtaking tonight,” Jack spoke before he leaned in his next words fanning across the side of your neck. “And I think that dress would look even better on the floor.”
A chill raced down your spine and you visibly shivered, earning a chuckle from the man before he straightened. He looked down at you with a such a hungry look, that if it wasn’t for the crowd you would let him take you here and now. You took a breath and smirked, before lacing your fingers in the hair that played at his neck and pulled his ear down to your mouth.
“Funny, I was thinking your boots would look good under my bed,” the words came out more seductively than you had anticipated, and your partner let out a soft groan just for you.
“You want to get out of here?” He asked as the song came to an end, but the two of you stayed right where you were.
“You read my mind cowboy.”
Jack smirked wide before taking your hand and pulled you from the tent, through the crowd, laughing. It was finally time for both of you to take the jump. Fuck the skeletons in your closet or what people would think. You would lock this man down before the night came to a close.
Now you hang from my lips Like the Gardens of Babylon With your boots beneath my bed Forever is the sweetest conI've had some tricks up my sleeve Takes one to know one You're a cowboy like me
Tagged: @jimmythegirl @arcadianempress @discogrrl @immundusspiritu @someplace-darker @thisis-theway @ohpedromypedro @scribbledghost @fioccodineveautunnale @princess-and-pedro @phoenixhalliwell @littlevodka @all-hallows-evie @mack4676 @perropascal @audreyshepbvrn @mswarriorbabe80 @kaqua @novemberrain221
#jack whiskey daniels#agent whiskey#pedro pascal#jack whiskey daniels fic#agent whiskey fic#jack whiskey daniels x reader#agent whiskey x reader
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We frequently get asked what our members favorite fics are, so for today’s rec list, we asked each member of BLP to choose FIVE favorite fics for this list - no repeats allowed. Please keep in mind that this is not a complete list of our favorites - there are so many amazing BL fics out there that we all have a lot more than this! Still, we hope you enjoy. Happy reading!
1) Take Off Your Business Suit | Explicit | 3082 words
“Yes, let me get another chair.” Louis said, leaning up off of the desk. He stood up but before he could leave the office to get another chair, Harry was grabbing his hand.
The words that came out of Harry’s mouth made Louis’ knees weak and heart beat quicken. “Just sit on my lap.” Harry said. Whatever he said afterwards didn’t make it into Louis’ ears as he was moving quickly over to Harry and placing himself on Harry’s lap.
Louis would take anything Harry wanted to give him; hand touching, lap sitting, all of it. Louis hadn't realized he was holding his breath until it came out in a quiet sigh. “Okay so th-this one will be slightly different right?” He asked as he pointed at the sheet of paper in front of him.
2) Quietly Our Hearts Beat | Explicit | 7539 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Louis and Harry in the universe of ‘A Quiet Place’.
3) A Love Reaction | Explicit | 9968 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Louis’s staring up at him, head tilted slightly back, and his blue eyes are glassy, locked with Harry’s in an unblinking and gentle gaze. He looks ready to do whatever Harry says, to please him whatever way.
4) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8854 words
“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind.
Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic.
“I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.”
Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.
5) No Good Unless It’s Real | Explicit | 17021 words
Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.
6) A Springtime’s Wilt, An Autumn’s Bloom | Explicit | 20593 words
Harry is Louis' personal chauffeur, and although he hides his feelings for his boss behind a wall of rigid professionalism, Louis still manages to squeeze through the cracks.
7) Ready To Fall | Explicit | 21220 words
“Ninety and rising,” Nick says triumphantly, as though making Harry’s heartbeat pick up by thrusting an obscenely attractive person in front of his face is any kind of success. “Louis Tomlinson has just walked into our control room and suddenly our dear Harry Styles has lost all ability to speak. Could this be some kind of strange coincidence?”
“I hate you,” Harry hisses, forcing his eyes back into Nick’s direction, uncaring that the mic must have picked it up. “I thought we agreed that you were going to play fair.”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nick denies, except he’s holding up a picture of Louis’ face now, sharp cheekbones prominent, soft lashes nearly sweeping against his cheeks as he looks down, and his fucking mouth –
“A hundred and two!” Nick crows, all but clapping his hands together in glee. “The highest it’s ever been!”
“To be fair, I did bend over the desk on purpose,” Louis’ voice comes crackling in the headphones. Harry practically breaks his neck whipping his head around at the sound of it, gaping at him through the glass panel. “You can’t really blame him for getting a little excited about that, can you?”
8) Written In The Stars (That’s You And Me) | Explicit | 22632 words
Louis pushes himself up on one elbow and stretches enough to just barely trace his fingertips over Harry’s jawline. Harry’s eyes drop to track his movements as he does it again. “D’you feel that?” he whispers.
To him, it feels like all of the universe’s magic lives just beneath his skin when he touches Harry with intent. It feels like something special. Louis watches Harry’s lips part and wants to touch that too. He almost does, but then Harry shakes his head. “Feel what?”
9) Middle Ground | Explicit | 23561 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.
10) England Has My Bones | Explicit | 24087 words
The next time Harry thinks about calling, it’s 4.14 in the morning on a Parisian hotel balcony.
11) Like A Siren In The Night | Explicit | 24868 words
“There is an infestation in my home,” Louis hisses, righting himself quickly and pushing his way past Harry, heading directly for the kitchen. He’s rather haphazardly dressed himself, a coat thrown on over a loose flannel shirt and black pants, slippers on his feet.
Harry resists the urge to sigh, closing the door and trailing behind him slowly. “What kind of infestation?”
For all he knows, Louis is going to claim that there’s a ghost infestation. Harry has no idea what the end game is here – all he knows is that Louis has found at least three complaints a week to bring up since he’s been living on Harry’s property, and he’s been living here for six months.
It’s way too many fucking complaints, is what Harry is saying. Especially when most of them are ridiculous to start with.
12) Hold Onto This Heaven (Of Yours) | Explicit | 25213 words
An ode to being too young, too sad, and too in love.
13) The Devil’s In The Details | Explicit | 25372 words
He squeals when Harry smacks his bum as he bends over to pick up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. Harry smiles smugly at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “When are you going to start calling me professor?” He asks.
“When you actually are one,” Louis says with his hand on the doorknob. He cocks his head to the side in curiosity. “Isn’t that how words work? You did study English, right?”
Louis’ quick to slip out the door before Harry can smack him again, his laugh echoing through the hallways as he makes his way to his next class with flushed cheeks and a bright smile.
14) A Trail Of Honey Through It All | Explicit | 27086 words
The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.
15) You Fit In My Poems (Like A Perfect Rhyme) | Explicit | 27598 words
The one where Harry works in an old bookshop and Louis is the pretty stranger that ends up stranded there in the middle of a storm.
16) Where The Lights Are Beautiful | Mature | 31170 words | Sequel
The accidental bonding A/B/O fic.
17) Once Upon A Dream | Explicit | 33319 words | Sequel
Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.
18) Stuck On You | Explicit | 33983 words
Louis’ life revolves around his stickers. Harry’s life revolves around his job. The universe has decided their worlds should revolve around each other.
19) Coeur De Pirate | Explicit | 34207 words
He tilts his chin up as the Captain strides across the deck, his footfalls falling loudly against the planks. The crew watches them from afar.
Stepping into his space, the Captain wraps an arm around Louis’ waist and pulls him in. He lowers his head to breathe his words against Louis’ cheeks. “I won,” he whispers, “I’ve come to claim my prize.”
20) What This World Is About | Explicit | 34472 words
An eighties American high school AU; there are first times, football games, and feelings.
Alternatively titled: the beginning.
21) Close To Nowhere | Explicit | 34589 words
Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.
22) Before We Knew | Explicit | 39830 words
Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed onto his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.
23) The Space Between | Explicit | 39917 words
Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.
Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.
24) The Sweetest Incantation | Explicit | 40580 words
Harry is a witch who's still working on developing his powers and Louis is a werecat who falls into his life and turns it upside down.
25) Worth Dying For | Explicit | 44906 words
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.
“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.
Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”
26) Tastes Like Summer, Smiles Like May | Explicit | 47519 words
A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.
27) Love’s Truest Language | Explicit | 48195 words
The first part was meant as a joke. He didn't really expect Harry to buy anything. It was just Louis’ way of softening the ‘get the fuck out’ blow.
“Where's your order forms, then?”
“I don't want your flowers.” Louis chided before directing all of his attention to the arrangement in front of him.
Harry laughed under his breath as he stood to his full height, “Who said anything about them being for you, love?”
28) Through The Wheatfields And The Coastlines | Explicit | 52855 words
The one where Louis needs inspiration, and a certain cowboy and his lamb are the perfect distraction.
29) Latibule | Mature | 54322 words
A Spirited Away AU of sorts where Louis just wants to heal and be left alone, only for all his plans to be destroyed by the hands of an infuriating British God.
30) Warming Up To You | Explicit | 56227 words
Prompt 111: Louis and Harry are strangers that somehow got stranded during a blizzard. They find themselves in an abandoned cabin and have to cuddle for warmth. Cuddling leads to much more.
31) Feeling Borrowed, Always Blue | Explicit | 68214 words
Louis has been dreaming of his wedding since he was young - he just never expected it to happen like this.
32) Curly Bun Man | Not Rated | 68597 words
I just paid for these Doritos but they're stuck in the vending machine and I know you've been waiting but I am not going to let you buy something until you help me. AU.
33) Waiting On You | Explicit | 76584 words | Sequel
“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.
Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.
“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.
Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.
34) Through Struggles, To The Stars | Explicit | 80582 words
Louis is a Starfleet captain trying to find his place in the universe. Harry is a prince just trying to do what's right.
35) I Want You So Much (But I Hate Your Guts) | Mature | 83648 words
AU in which Louis gets accepted to play for the Manchester University Alpha-Beta Football Team. The only problem: Louis is actually an Omega. He is determined to make it big in the football world, though, and he can't do that bound to an Omega team. With the help of a faked doctor's certificate and some pretty strong suppressants he is ready to fight for his dream.
That Harry Styles (Alpha, second year and youngest football captain of the A-B team in ages) doesn't seem to like him complicates matters, though.
36) Where You Lay | Explicit | 86038 words
When Louis's upcoming heat threatens his success at his new dream job, he asks the best (and only) person he can think of to help him through it: his best mates' best mate, Harry Styles. Harry reluctantly accepts, and together the two navigate a strange friends with benefits relationship that quickly turns complicated.
37) And Down The Long And Silent Street | Mature | 86090 words
Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis' past finally catches up with him.
38) Swim In The Smoke | Explicit | 101778 words
“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.
Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.
“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.
39) The Galaxy’s Edge | Explicit | 113921 words
Things never quite go as they are planned during a simple rescue job.
40) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices | Explicit | 126057 words | Sequel (WIP)
A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
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the bad batch + what romance/rom com movies they watch with you
each of the bad batch x gn!reader
ok first and foremost i really truly believe to the pits of my soul that every single one of these fuckos loves romances and you cannot under any circumstances change my mind
ALSO it’s a gender neutral reader except kinda in echo’s theres like a very brief quote regarding breasts but like i still think even that is pretty gender neutral tbh
so anyway
Hunter: Pretty Woman
this is not the first time that i have publicly declared that i think hunter has a deep rooted connection to the movie pretty woman and it will not be the last
first of all this movie is incredibly soothing to hunters overwhelming savior complex
second of all hunter is literally richard gere (debonaire but emotionally distant gentleman that learns to love) and julia roberts (hooker with a heart of gold) at the same time
he was a little skeptical the first time you put it on but he instantly fell in love with it
the humor, the sensuality, the class divide, the glamour, the unconventional cinderella story of it all. it just really butters his bread
after the first time, when you suggest watching a movie and you pick this one he’ll act very aloof about it (“whatever you want cyar’ika, it doesn’t matter to me”) but secretly he’s really really happy bc it’s one of his favorites (you def know this and def pick it more often)
he absolutely hates the scene when stucky the lawyer hits vivian. like it doesn’t matter how many times he watches it he will fully turn his head away from the screen and say “I don’t like this part” and when it’s over he nuzzles a little closer into you and very tenderly kisses your forehead
he loves the soundtrack too. like he fully exposes how much he likes the movie when you catch him singing or humming “pretty woman” or “it must have been love” absently to himself (you kept it to yourself for a while but eventually you just had to tease him about it. he just smiled a little sheepishly and admitted he liked the songs before promptly changing the subject)
hunter also lowkey definitely wants to recreate the ending where richard gere shows up to her apartment in the white limo with you bc he thinks it’s such a sweet gesture and he wants to treat you like royalty
Crosshair: 10 Things I Hate About You
if there’s one thing about crosshair it’s that he’s a sucker for the enemies to lovers genre
maybe its just him projecting (spoiler alert it most certainly is) but he really enjoys watching the drama conflama of a miserable bastard be tricked into love
and really that’s the true essence of 10 Things I Hate About You
he will grumble and bitch and moan about not wanting to watch a ‘chick flick’ when you put it on, but 15 minutes in and he’s hooked
he has strong negative opinions on literally every single character except for kat and patrick
(crosshair really really wants to think he’s patrick but when it comes down to it he is katarina stratford in every single possible way)
he doesn’t say a word throughout the entire movie but you can tell when he’s annoyed at like bianca or cameron or joey bc he will openly scoff at them
will absolutely hum along in your ear during the “can’t take my eyes off you” scene and make out with you during the paintball scene
(seriously he wants to be patrick verona so bad)
when it’s over and you ask him what he thought he’ll roll his eyes and say “i guess it could have been worse” but his little smirk let’s you know he enjoyed it a lot more than he’s willing to admit
Tech: 50 Shades of Grey
ok hear me out on this one
tech is a huge movie talker. like subtitles are a non-negotiable if you wanna be able to take in any of the movies dialogue bc tech is most likely gonna make commentary over it the whole time
this makes him absolutely indescribably so much fun to watch bad/corny movies with
he will go off about EVERYTHING. the plot, the dialogue, the acting, the costuming, the music, the production quality. nothing and no one is safe. whether you just enjoy letting him talk at you or you join in on the roast, cheesy movies are a hoot between you two
and honey. 50 shades is one of THE cheesiest movies ever
you and tech will literally spend the entire duration of the movie tearing it to shreds
and the thing is tech is a very sarcastic, funny guy when he wants to be (and when it comes to you he definitely wants to be) so by the end of it he will have you in absolute stitches from laughing at the ridiculousness of both the movie and him
with any of the other batchers watching a movie like this either turns into a shy, slightly awkward experience (wrecker, echo) or an incorrigibly horny experience (crosshair, hunter)
but in this context tech literally has no shame or squeamishness about sexual things (why should he it’s a natural biological process?) so to yall the sex stuff is just another thing to roast
literally christian grey could be fully tying dakota johnson down and flogging her and tech will be like “in the last 3 minutes they have panned up to her nipples 4 times. this is criminally shoddy cinematography”
even tho he’s busy giving a detailed play by play critique, he never fails to keep some sort of physical contact with you (wrapping an arm around you and running his hand up and down your skin, playing with your fingers or your hair) so you know he’s enjoying spending this time with you despite his nasty words about the movie
also 1000% after you watch it tech will do extensive research on the ins and outs of bdsm and will have lots of hypotheses he wants to test out (as long as you’re willing and able ofc) ;)))
Wrecker: 13 Going On 30
of all the bad batch members, wrecker is the only one who unabashedly loves any movie that could be considered a chick flick
like he doesn’t even try to hide it or act like he’s too masculine for it. he loves romance and he’s proud of it
this man will have full marathons with you. rom coms, regular roms, tragic roms, hallmark roms, you name it and he’s game
his absolute favorite tho is 13 Going On 30
i feel like he has a huge soft spot for childhood best friends to lovers stories like he finds that type of lifelong partnership so endearing (and he loves to live vicariously through jenna since that type of romance was obviously never an option for him)
wrecker is also very childlike at heart and i think the idea of a 13 year old sweetheart trapped inside the body of a 30 year old cut throat magazine exec is so amusing to him (and maybe makes him feel just a little bit represented in the media)
he is definitely the type to completely engulf you in a cuddle for the entirety of the movie and he DEFINITELY cries into your shoulder at matty’s wedding when jenna is crying on the stoop with her dream house
he wants to try razzles so bad. like so bad. i think if he ever came across them somewhere he would barter at least one of his brothers for them
wrecker really just loves love and watching movies about it just reminds him of how lucky he is to have his own love story with you <3
Echo: The Princess Bride
i feel like it’s glaringly obvious why echo loves this movie
pirates. sword fighting. decades long revenge plots. the value of an honorable, loyal man. true love that never wavers even in the face of devastating tragedy and the darkest of hardships. clever but goofy humor.
echo considers this an action/adventure movie and NOT a romance movie (even tho it 100% totally is a romance movie) and requests to watch it very frequently
he can quote the whole thing. i’m seriously telling you echo loves the princess bride with his whole chest
even tho he refuses to admit it’s a love story above all else, he really does try to model himself in your relationship after wesley
like especially given what happened at the citadel and all the time you thought he was dead, the cinematic parellels are alive and present in y’alls relationship and he strives to be even half the man to you that wesley is to buttercup
literally in your day to day life he will sometimes respond to your requests with a smooth “as you wish ;)” (it doesn’t matter how many times he does it it still gives you butterflies)
when you watch the movie, he snuggles as close to you as possible and does his best to make youre comfy the whole time (he’s insecure about his prosthetics hurting you no matter how much you reassure him they don’t)
he just loves to be able to feel your heartbeat and your laugh when you giggle at the funny bits
every single time without fail at the part when buttercup is about to stab herself he leans down, ghosts his lips against the shell of your ear, and whispers the line in time with wesley: “there’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. it would be a pity to damage yours”
every single time without fail you wind up making out until he pulls away and tells you to watch the next part when wesley challenges humperdinck to a duel to the pain
echo just loves you to bits and wants you to know he’d endure a thousand fire swamps for you
Omega: Clueless
i have this really specific obsession with omega being a total girly girl and having very traditionally feminine interests as she keeps experiencing the universe and being exposed to a spectrum of gender expression beyond clone (masc and boring) and kaminoan (ugly)
so with that headcanon of her in mind, it’s vital to me that she sees clueless as soon as possible
clueless is an essential piece of media for a girl entering adolescence and i will die on this hill
it has literally everything you want and everything you need to develop into a well-rounded young woman
it’s so deliciously 90s and glamorama and valley girl humor and camp. its got meaningful female friendships and valuable life lessons and paul mf rudd
if there’s one thing you should encourage a burgeoning hetero teen girl to do, it’s to stick to dating guys like paul rudd in clueless. the earlier this message can be broadcast the better
the second you’re able to steal omega away from hunters watchful eyes (“hunter we’re just gonna watch finding nemo i swear!”) you show her this movie
at this point omega is not really a girly girl, but omega also has absolutely zero feminine influence in her life
the first time she sees clueless she is absolutely obsessed. like seriously she is so enamoured with the glitz and glam of cher horowitz
she asks you questions the entire time. she wants to know about EVERYTHING. the makeup, the clothes, the hair, the slang
(she definitely goes around saying stuff like “i’m totally bugging” for long enough afterwards that almost all of the boys have slipped up at least once with some ridiculous valley girl slang. you thought you were gonna die of laughter when you overheard tech say “as if!” to wrecker in the middle of an argument)
it just really introduces her to this whole world of femininity that she didn’t even know existed and she absolutely loves it
she makes you watch clueless with her seriously once a week at minimum. she begs you to style her hair like tai’s and you can’t help yourself when you happen to run across a little yellow plaid dress and buy it for her on sight
(hunter was gonna scold you for recklessly spending credits until he saw how omega almost cried from how happy she was for the gift)
honestly she enjoys the romance of it all and paul rudd is def her first celebrity crush but she enjoys more that you and her now have this special thing of hair and nails and pretty dresses
she loves how confident and beautiful and special you’re able to make her feel, and you love that you get to bring her that small sense of normalcy and happiness
#the bad batch#bad batch#tbb#the bad batch headcanons#tbb crosshair#tbb hunter#tbb wrecker#the bad batch x reader#tbb echo#tbb tech#tbb x reader#crosshair tbb#hunter tbb#tech tbb#wrecker tbb#echo tbb#omega tbb#tbb omega#hunter x reader#crosshair x reader#tech x reader#echo x reader#wrecker x reader
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Hi im new in here,so i don't know exactly what you write so could you please write something like wolfstar being the readers parents with the fluffy prompts 3,13,19,34,and 39,sorrt if that was weird,i have major daddy issues and see them both as father figures,thanks for the attention and sorry again if you don't write this kinda of stuff
❛ 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗼𝗻𝗲. ❜ dad!wolfstar
summary: in which (y/n) is the light in both sirius and remus's life.
prompts: fluff/ 3. "stop moving around and let me braid your hair." / 13. "oh! my heart! it's too full of love for you! quick, i need a doctor!" / 19. "you can't leave without letting me hug you first." / 34. "help! there's a spider holding me hostage over here!" / 39. "i had a nightmare...can i stay with you tonight?"
a/n: au where neither sirius nor remus dies and sirius is cleared and they live happily ever after the war with a little girl they adopted. OKAY THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE. i didn't know if you wanted like a little reader or an older reader, so i included both! thanks for requesting anon <3
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
"(y/n)! come back here right now, you little devil!"
(y/n)'s giggles echoed throughout the house, her wet hair leaving a trail of water droplets on the floor. sirius could hear the quiet pitter-patter of her feet on the hardwood floors, and he quickly dropped a towel on the floor to clean up the mess she had made running away from him.
"(y/n)! this isn't funny!" sirius shouts into the silent house. it's quiet...too quiet.
"oh, i see...you're hiding from me are you? well, hopefully you're not hiding...behind the curtains!" he rips away the curtains enthusiastically, only to find an empty space behind them.
sirius creeps over to the closet, putting an ear to the door. he swears he can hear his five-year-old shuffling around and pulls the door open, feeling triumphant. "caught you!" he says, victorious.
his face falls when he's met with an empty space as well, and now he's starting to get worried. where could she be?
suddenly, he hears a small ah-choo! and a gasp followed by the sneeze. he smiles and drops down beside the couch. there (y/n) is, trying to hold in her giggles and wiping dust from her face.
she screams when sirius appears next to her, and laughs (the most angelic laugh sirius has ever heard) when her dad picks her up and hoists her on his shoulder.
"thought you could sneak away from me, huh?" sirius says as he sits (y/n) down and tickles her. "i just need to brush your hair before it gets all tangled."
(y/n) sighs. "i know, but you pull too much. i like it better when daddy does it. when is he coming back?"
sirius takes out the brushes and sits behind (y/n). "he'll be back today, i promise. now, sit still and let me brush your hair."
(y/n) moves away before sirius can start though, and he's starting to lose his patience. "(y/n), if you don't sit down right now, i'm not taking you to diagon alley with me. i'll just drop you off with harry while i go and have fun at fortescue's ice cream parlor," he threatens.
(y/n)'s eyes widened. she liked staying with cousin harry, but her dad was talking ice cream here, so there was no way she would let herself be hauled off to harry's while her dad got to stuff himself full with sorbets galore.
"no! i promise i'll let you brush my hair...but on one condition. you have to let me eat the last slice of cake right now. for breakfast." (y/n) crosses her tiny little arms and pulls out the puppy eyes, the puppy eyes sirius can never resist.
so how could sirius say no?
"you've got a deal, my little devil." sirius says as he shakes (y/n)'s pudgy toddler hand. she giggles, sits down obediently, and lets sirius brush through her hair, only painfully wincing twice.
later, as (y/n)'s barreling forkfuls of cake into her mouth and sirius is hastily trying to clean up her face before she messes up her shirt, the door opens, and (y/n) squeals happily. "daddy's home!"
she jumps down from her chair before sirius can say anything, and runs like mad to the front door.
remus is there, taking of his coat and grimacing as his sore muscles protest. his face is pale and and there are a few scratches running along his cheeks and neck. he hears (y/n) before he sees her, and quickly turns around to find the girl jumping into his arms.
"you're home!" she shrieks happily and tightens her hold around his neck. remus laughs and hugs back tightly. he notices frosting around her mouth and asks sternly, "and what is this, young lady?"
she smiles sheepishly and says, "it's cake! do you want some?"
sirius appears and remus turns to him. "sirius," remus starts, "you let (y/n) have cake for breakfast?"
sirius throws his hands in the air defensively. "i don't even get a hello kiss? not even a 'good morning, darling'? nothing?"
remus rolls his eyes and says grudgingly, "good morning, darling."
"that's better," sirius says as he leans in and kisses his husband's cheek. "if you must know, (y/n) and i made a deal. i let her have the cake in exchange for her letting me brush her hair. apparently, she likes it better when you do it."
remus looks back to (y/n), who's staring intently at his face. she picks up one of her little hands and places it on the cuts running from his chin to his right eye.
"what happened to your face? she asks sadly.
sirius and remus look at each other morosely. (y/n) doesn't know about remus's...condition, both men agreeing to tell her when she's older.
"just a...rough night at work, sweetheart." remus answers as he puts (y/n) down and walks over to the couch, throwing himself down on it. sirius follows him and runs a hand through his hair. (y/n) runs off into the kitchen, probably wanting to finish her cake quickly.
"was it a bad one?" sirius asks as he sits down beside remus.
remus shrugs. he always feels tired after a full moon, especially since he travels so far, as far away as he can to keep his family safe.
suddenly, (y/n) is standing next him, smiling as she dots his nose with frosting. remus laughs and picks her up again, holding her above her head. she stretches her arms in front of her, mimicking a superhero in flight, and remus "flies" her all over the living room until they hear a yelp of pain.
remus turns to see sirius doubled over, holding his chest. he quickly puts (y/n) down and hurries over to him, while (y/n) asks, "what's wrong with daddy?"
"sirius? darling, are you alright?" remus asks worriedly.
"oh! my heart! it's too full of love for you both! quick, i need a doctor!" sirius exclaims, feigning agony.
remus scoffs, grabs a pillow from the couch, and whacks his husband over the head with it. "that wasn't funny!"
sirius, rubbing his head, drawls, "oh, you wanna fight, do you? don't say i didn't warn you; you mess with the bull, you get the horns." he grabs a pillow and smacks remus's side.
remus doesn't care that he's dead tired, doesn't care if he's hungry and terribly needs a bath: he will take sirius down in this pillow fight even if it's the last thing he ever does.
(y/n) squeals and gets on the couch, jumping up and down, cheering both of them on.
after, with both pillows destoyed and feathers littering the living room (sirius definitely won, although remus would never admit that to anyone), sirius and remus flop down on the couch, preparing to doze off, when (y/n) exclaims, "but who's gonna clean this up?"
"oh...we'll worry about that later. come here, my little devil." sirius says tiredly and pulls (y/n) into his chest. remus loops an arm around sirius, and the three soundly sleep into the late hours of the evening, all interwined together.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:⠀ *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆
years later
"dad, i'm not five years old anymore. you don't have to do my hair anymore."
"stop moving around and let me braid your hair."
remus's fingers were definitely getting a bit too aged to be able to braid (y/n)'s hair with ease like he used to when she was small, but he was able to manage decent plaits to tame (y/n)'s wild hair.
both remus and (y/n) look into the mirror, and remus smiles. he places his hands on (y/n)'s shoulders and sighs wistfully, "oh...look at how much my angel's grown."
"don't start getting all sappy on me now, dad." (y/n) laughs as she shrugs off her dad's hand as she starts downstairs.
remus blocks the door way. "nuh uh. you can't leave without letting me hug you first."
(y/n) smiles and rolls her eyes, but gives in either way. she wraps her arms around her father's waist tightly, and remus can swear he's the happiest man in the world.
they pull apart when they hear glass shattering from the kitchen. remus and (y/n) rush downstairs and find sirius balancing on top of a chair, holding a pan in the air defensively. two glass cups are sitting on the counter, the third one in broken shards on the floor.
"sirius, what on earth are you doing?" remus asks as he moves into the kitchen.
"oh, good, you're here! you have to help me, there's a spider holding me hostage over here!"
(y/n) laughs. "dad, we've been through this before! all you have to do..." she trails off as she graps a cup and traps the spider in it, then takes a table mat and slides it under the cup, "is catch it, and set it free."
she places the spider on the open windowsill, and it scuttles away into the garden.
sirius precariously climbs down from chair as remus sweeps up the broken glass. "you're a lifesaver, you are," sirius says as he claps a hand on (y/n)'s back.
"that's me, full-time superhero."
. . .
sirius and remus are on the couch, watching the telly (that sirius begged to have), and almost dozing off when sirius feels a tug on his sleeve.
"dad? dad, are you awake?"
sirius groggily opens his eyes and sees his daughter staring into his face. "(y/n)," he asks, "what's wrong?"
the soft voices wake up remus as he too sits up and rubs his eyes. he takes notice of (y/n), and a worried expression crosses his face. "are you alright, sweetheart?"
(y/n) nods her head quickly and says, "everything's fine, it's just...i had a nightmare, could i sleep here with you guys?"
remus and sirius instantly scoot apart to make space for (y/n), who squeezes in between them. she's not as small as she used to, but is cozy enough as her dads close in beside her.
"remember when you were smaller and would sleep in sirius's arms?" remus asks his daughter.
she nods sleepily, "i'm far too big for that now."
remus and sirius laugh, and cuddle in closer. the scene is a sight for sore eyes, and (y/n) easily dozes off, glad she has the warmth of her dads on either side of her.
because two is always better than one, right?
#wolfstar#wolfstar imagine#dad!sirius#dad!remus#harry potter fluff#harry potter imagines#harry potter oneshot#harry potter angst#wolfstar fluff#remus calling his daughter sweetheart😫#sirius calling his daughter 'my little devil'😫#remus x sirius#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin imagine#sirius x lupin#sirius black fluff#sirius black imagine#sirius black and remus lupin
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Danger
Part 12 of the Boys with Luv series
Pairing: Reader x BTS, BTS x BTS
Summary: Yoonkook make up and the search for Y/N is underway (this one will just be from the members point of view)
Warnings: Self harm, suicidal thoughts, Jungkook is in quite a dark place
Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @fic-recs-by-moon, @luvtaeha, @aretha170, @xicanacorpse, @kookieebangtan, @fangirl125reader, @seoul9711, @channiespup , @lindsayjoy444, @fairygirl18, @black-rose-29, @bts-ot7-for-life, @meowmeowyoongles, @aclowe13
AN: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and what you think of the series so far :) I purple you guys!
Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13
It had been a few days since Y/N had been taken and Jungkook had not come out of his room. Not even to eat. It was worrying Jin that his youngest boyfriend had shut himself off from everyone. Jin was actually reaching his limit. His baby needed to come out soon or else he would break down the door.
Namjoon was right - they all needed to stick together. It would make the whole ordeal a lot easier to go through with as they had each other to lean on. Y/N had no one which was something Jin was worried about. Yoongi had told them all about the conversation he had had with Y/N after Jackson had found her at Disneyland, and Jin was worried. They all were. The police had been informed of the possible intentions and Y/N’s case was a top priority. They had people working on it day and night.
Jin sighed as he knocked on Jungkook’s door. “Kookie, please, let me in.” He begged. “Hyung needs to talk to you. To know you are okay. Please baby. Please.” There was still no answer. If Jin pressed his ear to the door and listened hard enough, he was able to hear soft sobs. He was scared for Jungkook. The boy had been close to self-harming a few years ago, and he didn’t want that to happen again.
He remembered when they found out. It was the second year of their relationship and Jungkook, who was usually the cuddly fluffball of the group, was withdrawn and quiet, often speeding up to his room and locking the door whenever they came back from dance practices and recordings. Yoongi had been telling them that something felt off, but whenever they confronted the maknae about it, he would dismiss it as not feeling well, or would even go as far as to ignore them completely.
It had gotten to the point where Yoongi insisted that they get inside Jungkook’s room and adjoining bathroom. The night they did that, using Namjoon to break down the door after Jungkook would not open, they discovered Jungkook stood with a razor blade hovered above his wrist. Yoongi had wasted no time and had knocked the razor out of his hand, bundling the younger up in his arms and whisking him away to talk. Yoongi was always the best at this, being experienced himself in the matter of depression. Yoongi still had his bad days, but he would spend them curled up next to either Hoseok or Jin while he voiced his feelings to the whole group.
And Jin was now feeling that exact same feeling. He needed to get to Jungkook. He needed to know he was okay. “Jungkook, if you don’t open the door, I’m going to have to break it down myself.” There was still no answer.
Jin was terrified. What if the maknae had cut too deep and had been bleeding out in the bathroom for the past few hours? What if he had tried to kill himself and been injured badly? What if he had killed himself?
“Joon!” Jin called out for the younger member as he ran to the man’s studio, banging on the door. Namjoon opened the door, looking both hopeful and scared.
“Have they found her? Is she alive?” Jin felt his heart break at the look on Namjoon’s face.
“Oh, Joonie, no, I’m sorry. They haven’t found her yet.” He said, pulling the younger into a hug. “But it’s Kook. I’m worried about him. I’m getting the same feeling I did before. I’m scared Joon. I can’t lose two of them.”
“What do you need me to do?”
--------------------
Taehyung was curled up in Hoseok’s side, tear tracks running down his sleep-swollen cheeks. Every single night, he had cried himself to sleep for the loss of Y/N, as well as Yoongi and Jungkook, and it broke Hoseok’s heart at how hurt they all were. He wanted to kill Jackson for putting them all through this. The police were in the process of locating him - they were getting in touch with the tracking company to request the location of the phone, but it was taking longer than wanted as the company was not open on the weekend. This had made Bang PD-nim start to look into other tracking companies that were open 24/7 just in case this happened again, which Hoseok prayed it didn’t.
He glanced over at the clock and saw it was almost time for dinner. Taehyung had completely lost his appetite, so Hoseok had been forcing him to eat to keep himself healthy. They had all been forcing themselves to eat, apart from Jungkook who had locked his bedroom door and was not coming out at all.
He rubbed a hand over Tae’s back gently, a faint smile ghosting over his lips when he felt his hand tighten on his shirt, the longer fingers twisting the fabric.
“Tae baby, you need to wake up. We need to go and eat.” Hoseok said softly, making Taehyung whine and nestle into him.
“No Hobi hyung, I’m not hungry.” He said, his deep voice scratchy and slurred.
“I know, baby, but we have to. We need to keep healthy. It’s what Y/N would want.” Hoseok reminded him. Taehyung shook his head.
“I’m not hungry! I don’t want to eat! I just want Y/N back!” Taehyung cried. Hoseok sighed sympathetically and pulled the younger on top of him, wrapping his arms around his back.
“I know, baby, I know. So do I. But if we aren’t healthy, we could be in hospital when they find her, okay? She wouldn’t want us to hurt ourselves.” Hoseok said softly. “So let’s go down and have some ramen and then we can come back here and cuddle okay?”
“Can we see if Jungkookie wants to come eat with us?” Taehyung looked at his hyung. Hoseok nodded and stroked his cheek gently.
“Of course we can.” He kissed Tae’s forehead. “Come on, let’s go.”
----------
Jimin pushed open Yoongi’s bedroom door with his foot, his hands carrying two bowls of rice and kimchi. Yoongi hadn’t been doing too well; the pain of losing Y/N as well as the guilt of hurting Jungkook had not settled with him at all and continuously made him feel worse as the days dragged on. Jimin hoped that it would be over soon.
“Hyung, I’ve got us some food.” Jimin said softly, setting the bowls down on the bedside table before climbing onto the bed. Yoongi hummed and pulled the younger onto his lap. “How are you feeling?” He asked, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek.
“Not good.” Yoongi replied. “I feel awful, actually. I just wish Jungkookie would let me talk to him. That’s one thing I can fix.” Jimin nodded and grabbed the bowls.
“It’s okay, hyung. It will all be okay.” The smaller boy comforted him before lifting some rice to his hyung’s mouth. “Now eat something, please.”
“I’m really not hungry, Jiminie.” Yoongi said, glancing at the chopsticks in front of him.
“I know, but Hobi hyung said we need to eat to stay healthy because that’s what Y/N would want.” Jimin said, holding the chopsticks in front of his mouth. “Just a few mouthfuls, please, I don’t want you to get ill.”
“Fine.” Yoongi opened his mouth and allowed Jimin to feed him. “You know, I should be the one taking care of you because I’m older.”
“But you’re my boyfriend and I love you.” Jimin reminded him. “So I’m allowed to take care of you.”
“How are you feeling?” Yoongi asked, taking the bowl out of Jimin’s hands and putting his hands on his waist. Jimin stilled. He hadn’t admitted how he was feeling just yet. Not even to himself. He had pushed his feelings down so he could take care of Yoongi.
“I...” Jimin trailed off, making Yoongi narrow his eyes at him. “I don’t know...”
“Okay, Jiminie. That’s okay. You’re probably feeling so many things that you can’t distinguish between each one.” Yoongi said. He reached over and took some rice out of the bowl with the chopsticks. “Your turn.” Jimin opened his mouth and ate the rice.
“Hyung? Why don’t you go and see if Jungkookie will talk to you? Jin hyung said he hadn’t left his room in ages. I’m scared for him.” Jimin said after swallowing his mouthful of rice.
“I can try, baby. After we finish eating I’ll try and talk to him, okay?” Yoongi stroked Jimin’s hair out of his face. “You eat too, little one.”
“I’m only one centimetre shorter than you, Min Yoongi!” Jimin playfully hit Yoongi’s arm.
“Yeah but you’re still my little one since you’re younger than me and everything about you is tiny and cute.” Yoongi said taking Jimin’s smaller hands in his.
“My dick isn’t small, hyung!” Jimin whined. Yoongi hummed and kissed Jimin’s forehead.
“Yes, but it is smaller than everyone else.” Yoongi pointed out. “But I love each and every part of you.” He leaned up and pecked Jimin on the lips. “Thank you for cheering me up.”
“I love you.” Jimin grabbed his bowl and began to eat. “I miss Y/N, though. I’m worried for her.”
“I miss her too.” Yoongi replied, a frown on his face. “I want to kill him for taking her. I need her back with me.”
“She needs to be back with all of us. I don’t even want to think about what’s happening to her. She must be in so much pain.” Jimin set down his bowl.
“But the police are finding their location as soon as they can and as soon as that has been found, we will have Y/N back with us.” Yoongi said. Jimin knew that he was seeing the positive side of things, and trying not to think of the worst-case scenario.
“Okay, I’m going to go and talk to Jungkook.” Yoongi finished his rice and set the bowl aside. “Why don’t you go and have a shower? I’ll be back soon.”
--------------------
Everything felt grey to Jungkook. Just grey. One of the seven lights of his life were gone and the others had dimmed to nothing, leaving everything murky shades of grey. He was wearing one of his tshirts that Y/N would always wear for bed. It smelt like her and that helped the aching hole inside of me, but it did nothing for the endless amounts of guilt he felt.
This was all his fault. If only he had gone home with her, then she would still be with them. He was stupid and not worthy of being her soulmate.
His door had been locked since she had been taken and every so often one of his hyungs would knock and beg him to open. But he couldn’t let them in. He didn’t want to be met with their disappointed faces. He probably wouldn’t be able to ever face them again.
He stretched his arms, ignoring the pain that lanced from his wrists and the growling of his empty stomach. He looked down at his forearms and saw his bandages had become bloody. Time to change them. The cuts would only fuel his hyungs disappointment in him if they found out.
He shuffled into the bathroom, avoiding his image in the mirror, knowing that he looked awful with an unshaved face and unwashed hair. He unwrapped the bandages and rinsed his arms under the water to wash off the blood.
Cut more You deserve it You deserve this pain It’s all your fault
Ever since Y/N had been taken the voices had come back and Jungkook had succumbed to what they were telling him to do. He looked at his arms, the red lines criss-crossing the lengths of his forearms, slashing through some of his tattoos.
That’s it Jungkook Let yourself feel what Y/N is feeling Your hyungs are so disappointed in you You should just end it all now
Jungkook’s fingers wrapped around the bloodied razor he had been using. He slashed it over his wrists again.
Go deeper Jungkook Deep enough to kill But not yet You still have to suffer
Jungkook pressed harder, his skin splitting apart and blood running out, streaming down his arms. He sobbed to himself, the neverending pressure of the guilt weighing down on him, making him feel like he couldn’t breathe. He slammed his hands onto the sink, leaving bloodied handprints and smears on the white porcelain before staggering over to his room and collapsing on the bed, letting him exhaustion wash over him. He hadn’t cut deep enough to kill himself. He had to suffer more first.
--------------------
Yoongi could feel something was wrong. Very wrong. Wrong enough to make his stomach churn and his heart pound faster. He sat up quickly, accidentally waking up Jimin who hummed and looked around sleepily.
“Go back to sleep, Min.” Yoongi said softly. “I’ll be back soon. I’m just going to check on Jungkook.” He kissed Jimin softly and gently pushed him down so he was lying down. Jimin hummed and closed his eyes, a hand clutching at the blankets surrounding him. He smiled at the younger boy before slipping out the room and making his way over to Jungkook’s room.
When he got there, he saw Jin and Namjoon attempting to break down the door. Yoongi looked at the pair of them with an eyebrow raised.
“He’s been in there too long, Yoongs. This ends now. He needs to know that we all love him and want him around and that we don’t blame him. He needs to know that you don’t blame him.” Jin said, stepping back as Namjoon rammed his shoulder into the door, a loud bang echoing through the house. Namjoon hissed but ignored the apparent pain as he continued to bang into the door. There was a loud crack and the door swung open.
“Oh God!” Jin screamed, hands covering his mouth. Yoongi’s heart stopped. No. Not Jungkook too. He couldn’t lose both of them.
He pushed Jin out of the way and was met with the sight of blood. So much blood. Jungkook was lying on his bed, eyes closed. Yoongi watched closely hoping and praying to see the rise and fall of his chest. He saw Jungkook breathe and it was steady.
“Joon, take Jin hyung somewhere else. I’ve got this.” Yoongi said, rubbing Namjoon’s shoulder. The younger looked hesitant but led Jin away. Yoongi took a deep breath and entered the room. There was a lot of blood, covering the bedsheets and Kookie’s arms. There were smears on the wall in the shapes of fingers and hands, where he had clearly dragged himself to bed. Yoongi felt his heart break. Not his Kookie. His happy bunny.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I am so so sorry.” He said, stroking the youngest’s hair before going into the bathroom to get some warm water and disinfectant and bandages. They needed to be careful with Jungkook now. He gently reached out and took hold of Jungkook’s hand, straightening out his arm so he could clean away all the blood and germs. He dipped one of the towels into the water and squeezed it before wiping it over the maknae’s arms.
“Oh, Kookie.” He sighed, seeing the numerous cuts that were still healing - some being scabbed over, but others still open. He sprayed some disinfectant over his arms and wrapped bandages around them. “I’m so sorry, baby. Hyung is so sorry.” Yoongi felt awful. If only he hadn’t yelled at Jungkook then this would not have happened.
He quickly cleaned up the room before collapsing on the bed next to the younger boy. “I love you so much, Jeon Jungkook.” He whispered before closing his eyes and pulling the younger closer to him. He kissed his forehead before allowing himself to fall asleep next to the maknae.
--------------------
When Jungkook woke up he could feel arms around his waist which was strange considering he had locked his door. He frowned as he opened his eyes, looking around his room to figure out what was going on. His arms had been bandaged and cleaned which he didn’t remember doing, and his door was open. He paused. They must have knocked down the door.
He looked over his shoulder and saw the sleeping face and faded blond hair of his hyung, Yoongi. He gulped. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Not now, and if he got his way, not ever. He should just run away from them and never return. Then he would never have to face them for what he has done.
He pushed himself out of Yoongi’s arms and walked over to his wardrobe, throwing his clothes into some bags.
“What do you think you’re doing, mister?” He heard a sleepy yet stern voice ask from behind him.
“Noth-nothing?” Jungkook winced as his voice rose in pitch at the end, making it sound like he wasn’t sure about what he was saying.
“Really? ‘Cause it looks like you’re packing a bag of clothes.” Yoongi sat up in the bed, the sheets rustling. “Now put it down and come here.” Jungkook paused and reluctantly set down the bag before shuffling over to the bed and perching on the end.
“Look, hyung, I know it’s all my fault, can you please just leave me alone.” Jungkook said, but Yoongi ignored him and pulled him closer by his waist, being wary of his injured arms.
“Just listen to me, Koo, please.” Koo. He hadn’t been called that since Y/N had been taken. He felt a pang in his heart as he sniffled. He sighed and wiped his eyes as he looked at his hyung. Yoongi’s eyes softened as he reached out and wiped a stray tear from Jungkook’s cheek.
“I am so sorry I said that to you. I should never have said that. I was just angry and upset and I know that this is not a good excuse, but I just took it out on you. It’s not your fault. You were looking out for her and called someone to bring her home. How would you know that Sejin would have been intercepted and his phone stolen?”
Jungkook pursed his lips. He could hear what Yoongi was saying to him, but it wasn’t sinking in. He didn’t feel any less guilty. “But I should have gone home with her! I should have walked her to the car and made sure that it was actually Sejin. We all know how many people are out there to hurt us and I let my guard down, thinking that for one day there wouldn’t be hate or someone that wanted to hurt her, and look what happened!”
“Jungkook, stop, please!” Yoongi pulled the younger onto his lap, so Jungkook was facing him, legs either side of his hyung’s lap. “Stop beating yourself up about this. This is not your fault. It will never be your fault. None of us blame you. So, please, stop blaming yourself.”
“But-” Jungkook was quietened by Yoongi pressing a finger to his lips.
“So just stop blaming yourself. No buts, okay? We all love you, so much, and we were so worried when you didn’t come out of your room for days.” Yoongi gently lifted up Jungkook’s arm. “And now we know that this is one of the reasons for your hiding...” He trailed off, looking pointedly at the bandages on Jungkook’s arms.
“I’m sorry, hyung, I just, I needed to.” Jungkook sobbed.
“Hey, don’t cry, baby, please don’t cry.” Yoongi’s voice cracked as he pulled Jungkook into his chest. “We’ve got you. We’re always going to be here for you, okay? We can talk to you, be there for you, give you all of the cuddles in the world. Just please, don’t hurt yourself again. It’s dangerous and it could kill you, Koo.”
“That’s what I wanted.” Jungkook whispered.
“Shit, Kook.” Yoongi froze and stiffened. “No, no, no, baby, no.” He held onto Jungkook’s jaw, his thumb stroking gently. “Just talk to us, don’t lock yourself away. We’re going to help you through this, okay? It’s all going to be okay.”
“But I’m not okay, hyung. And I don’t think I ever will be until she’s back with us.” Jungkook had tears running down his cheeks. Yoongi did too.
“Neither am I, baby. But if we stick together, we should be alright.” Yoongi said. “I love you, so much, Jeon Jungkook. I hope you know that.”
“I love you more, Min Yoongi.” Jungkook leaned his forehead against Yoongi’s.
“Oh, I don’t think that’s possible, baby boy.” Yoongi kissed his lips. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Thank you.” Jungkook said, resting his head on Yoongi’s shoulder.
“You’re welcome, little prince.” Yoongi kissed his forehead. They cuddled for a while before Jimin. burst into the room.
“Hyung, they found her!”
#sub!reader#sub!taehyung#sub!jimin#sub!jungkook#switch!jin#dom!hoseok#dom!yoongi#dom!namjoon#bts#bts ot7#bts smut#bts fluff#bts x reader#boys with luv#soulmate au#danger#bts angst
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Stalked
Pairing: Kelly Severide x Reader
Requested by anon: Could I get 13 and 19 on the prompt list, please! Kelly x reader where the reader is a bartender at Molly’s and ends up with a stalker. Maybe a sprinkle of Jay helping out, too.
Warnings: mentions of stalking, anxiety, mild cursing
A/N: Prompts were meant for drabbles but…. It became too long to be labelled as a drabble so tagging this as a one-shot but I used the prompts! Just felt there needed to be a bit of a build-up for a stalker backstory. Hope you like it! Would also love to hear what you think!
---
You had been getting the feeling that you were being followed for the past few weeks.
There were just a few moments in your day when you felt that you were being watched. It started off at Molly’s when you were pulling your bartending shift, the hairs on the back of your neck had stood but you couldn’t pinpoint it in a crowded bar.
Yet during the past few weeks, it had progressively gotten more frequent. You hadn’t told anyone about it yet because there was nothing to tell. There wasn’t a stranger you saw frequently. Molly’s was usually full of firefighters from 51 or police officers and detectives from 21, or even the medical staff from Med. But no one jumped out at you so you didn’t mention anything to anyone.
You felt it again as you walked the short distance from Molly’s to your apartment building after finishing your shift but you shook it off. Maybe you were too tired.
You jogged up the stairs, squinting when you noticed a package sitting in front of your door.
You smiled. Kelly must have left something for you. You turned, looking up and down the empty corridor. The only thing that smelt a little funky was that Kelly usually left a note or stuck around.
You flipped open the box, frowning at the contents.
What the hell was this?
You stood in front of your door, picking up the stack of photos inside the box. Photos of you – laughing at Molly’s, at the store, at the pharmacy, photos through the window of this very apartment. Photos that you were now sure weren’t from Kelly.
The box dropped to the ground with a clang, the photos slipping from your fingers and scattering onto the floor. You took a shaky step backwards.
You didn’t even realise your hands were shaking until you fumbled with the clasp on your bag to try to call Kelly.
There were just two rings before he answered. “Hello?”
You swallowed, trying to steady your voice before speaking.
“Y/N?” Kelly’s voice again.
“Kelly…” You failed at keeping your voice steady, your voice breaking a little as you called out his name.
“Babe? What’s wrong?” Kelly had picked up on your shaky voice immediately.
“Kelly… something… someone…” Your brain was fogging up.
You could hear Kelly moving around. “Where are you?” When you didn’t respond immediately, Kelly pressed again. “Y/N, where are you?”
“Outside my apartment.” You finally found the words.
“Don’t move. I’ll be right there, okay? Stay there.” Kelly instructed before he hung up.
---
You weren’t sure how long it was you had been there. Once the line had gone dead, you had sunk to the floor, drawing your knees close to your chest, your head down. The box was lying open in front of you, the photographs scattered around. You only looked up again when you heard footsteps, followed closely by Kelly’s voice.
“Y/N!” Kelly called, making a beeline for you.
“You okay?” He demanded. You nodded your head but looped your arms around Kelly, pushing your face into his chest.
You felt Kelly reach over to hold you before you heard a third person’s voice. “Let me clear the house.”
You hadn’t even noticed that Jay was with Kelly.
“Kelly, we’re good.” Jay nodded, tossing your keys back to Kelly. You hadn’t even noticed that Kelly had taken them from you.
“Come on.” Kelly helped you up and guided you inside, Jay following close behind. Before long, Kelly was pushing a hot cup of tea into your hands as Jay pored over the box.
“No promises but I’ll try to pull security footage, maybe we can even dust for prints.” Jay said, glancing over at Kelly.
“Thanks for coming over with me.” Kelly said, getting up.
“Don’t sweat it, Kelly.” Jay smiled.
You looked up. “Thanks Jay.” You smiled.
“You hang in there, okay? I’ll do what I can.” Jay called, waving as he left.
“I can stay here tonight.” Kelly said, as the door closed behind Jay. You didn’t say anything but reached for his hand and he smiled, kissing the back of your hand.
---
It had been a month and a half since the box had shown up on your door and then nothing.
The best Jay could come up with was that it was a white guy in his thirties, wearing a hoodie and baseball cap. The cameras caught nothing and there were no prints they could match him to.
“Everything’s been okay, though?” Jay asked, as you slid him his drink.
You nodded, “Yeah, it’s been quiet.”
Jay nodded. “Hey, you know if you need anything…”
You smiled, “Thanks Jay. Drink’s on me.”
He smiled, raising his glass in thanks as you wandered off to restock the supplies.
By the time you had finished tidying storage, Molly’s was almost empty, save for a few more people from 51. “Hey Y/N, you can take off early. There’s not much to do, I can handle it.” Herrmann called as you walked out.
“You sure?” You asked, scanning the room. “We’re not exactly closed yet.”
Herrmann smiled. “Yeah, go on.”
“Thanks Herrmann!” You called, going for your bag.
You dialled Kelly’s number but it went straight to voicemail. It still wasn’t late, technically Herrmann was letting you finish shift early. You sent Kelly a quick text to meet you straight at your apartment and calling out byes, slipped out the back door.
You were halfway to your apartment when your phone rang.
“Y/N, I told you I’d pick you up.” Kelly said, the moment you picked up the phone.
You sighed, “Kelly, I’m almost home. I’m just around the corner, I just…” You were cut off midsentence by someone grabbing you and you gave a short yelp before you dropped your phone and got pulled into the adjacent alley.
---
Kelly sighed as he heard you justify why you had left the bar early. He knew this was coming, he just didn’t expect it to be this soon. You had always been feisty and independent, so he knew you’d start to let your guard down soon.
“I’m just around the corner, I just…” There was a pause before you gave a short yelp.
“Y/N!” Kelly called but the line had already gone dead.
Fuck.
Kelly fumbled with his keypad as he ran down the street. “Jay, I think she’s in trouble, one street over from Molly’s. I need your help.”
Kelly pumped his legs, pushing himself faster down the street. It had always seemed like a short street when he had walked you home but now it didn’t feel so short.
---
You had the breath knocked out of you as you were thrown against the concrete wall in the alley, your head hitting the wall with a clang, stars dancing in front of your vision.
“Now, no one can tear us apart.” A voice drawled in your ear. You could feel someone hovering above you, his hot breath tickling your ear, as his hand found your neck.
You could feel the bile rise in your throat. You had no idea who this person was, or what they wanted. All you knew for sure was that he was the owner of that creepy box you had received and he was way too close to you.
You had a scream stuck in your throat and you struggled to get it out. You needed to get it out or Kelly would never be able to find you.
“Hey!”
You sank to the ground as you felt his hold on you loosen.
Kelly’s face contorted into a look of rage as he looked down the alley. Without pausing, Kelly pounced, pushing the man off of you. He saw you sink to the ground out of the corner of his eye but turned his attention back to the man in front of him.
Kelly could feel his heart pumping in his chest as he landed a punch on the man’s face. The man threw a punch, causing Kelly to stumble backwards but Kelly threw himself forward again, pushing him deeper into the alley, so as to put as much distance as he could between you and the man.
Kelly threw another punch, knocking the man off his feet. Kelly growled but this time heard footsteps.
“Kelly!” Kelly stepped backwards, avoiding a kick from the man who lay on the gorunf before Jay came running up.
“Don’t move.” Jay snarled, taking out his gun.
Jay glanced at Kelly who was now holding onto this guy on the ground firmly, before holstering his gun and bending down to take over and handcuff the man. “I got this.”
Kelly nodded and hurried back to where you were sitting on the ground.
“Y/N?” Kelly approached, noticing the way you stiffened as he reached out for you. “Babe?”
You snapped your head up as you tried to shrink further backwards. “Y/N, it’s me. It’s me. It’s okay.”
You finally saw him, Kelly standing over you, his hand stretching out towards you. “Kelly?” Your voice shook a little.
Kelly bent to your level. “Baby, breathe. Just breathe, okay?”
You took a shuddering breath; a breath you didn’t know you had been holding as Kelly pressed you into him. “That’s my girl.” He whispered.
“It’s okay, you’re okay.” Kelly whispered, as you heard the sirens.
“Kelly, We’ll take him in. You think she’s up for a statement?” Jay’s voice now.
Kelly hesitated but you looked up. “I can talk to Jay.” You said, although you hadn’t loosened your hold on Kelly.
Jay nodded, “Kelly can stay with you. I just need an official witness statement, okay?”
You recounted as much as you could remember to Jay, glad that it was Jay who was taking your statement. A friendly face, someone you knew you could trust.
“Thanks Jay. I…”
Jay smiled, reaching in to squeeze your shoulder reassuringly.
---
Kelly had gotten you back to your apartment, and you were now sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket.
“Hey, you doing okay?” Kelly asked, coming down to eye level with you.
You smiled and nodded. “Now, I am.”
You reached for Kelly’s hand. Kelly took your hand in his and sank into the couch next to you, gently pulling you towards him and holding you close, planting a kiss on your temple..
“Can you stay? You make me feel safe.” You whispered.
Kelly didn’t respond immediately, instead just tightening his arms around you. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You closed your eyes as Kelly shifted to make you more comfortable. “Kelly, I…”
“I know.” He whispered, “Me too.”
---
KELLY SEVERIDE TAGLIST
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an icarus and his sun: chapter 13
A/N: ayyyy, lucky number 13! a lot of stuff goes down in this chapter, but you guys will be getting part of the resolution!! this isn’t the end though, there are two chapters left in the story! Oh also my pal Jack made a spotify playlist for this series, and all the songs on it work so well and absolutely slap!!
Warnings: possession, manipulation, swordfight, self-worth issues, violence, choking (not in the *wink* way stop it it’s meant to be angsty), kissing, hugs
AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost
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Scott didn’t know where he was. It was like he was standing in the Void, but there was something more off about the pitch black landscape than usual. It was tinted red, somehow. There was a deep crimson color that permeated the air, a thick fog that threatened to choke Scott- and then he saw him. It was- it was himself, sort of. The figure before him looked exactly like Scott, but something was definitely off. First was the color scheme of his clothing- red and black instead of the cyan and white of his empire. Then, most glaringly, was his eyes. Deep red, just like the corruption in Scott’s arm. And when he put a hand on the hilt of the dark blade strapped to his side and grinned, Scott saw far too sharp teeth.
“Who are you?!” Scott demanded, instinctively reaching for his sword and pleasantly surprised to find it sheathed at his side- he hadn’t remembered it being there before. The red version himself somehow managed to grin wider.
“A small part of a larger plan. He will be pleased to know I have you under my control,” the red Scott taunted. Scott’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“He? What plan, what are you talking about?” Scott asked, and the red version of himself laughed.
“So you don’t remember yet… that explains why you were so easy to defeat,” he taunted. Scott grit his teeth and drew his sword.
“You haven’t defeated me yet,” Scott growled. The red Scott only laughed, before lunging at Scott faster than he thought was possible. He blocked the incoming blow just in time, trying to push the red version of himself back.
“I won’t be as easy to defeat as your pathetic little fish boy,” the red Scott sneered.
“He isn’t mine,” Scott protested through gritted teeth before managing to push his other self back. He slashed at the red Scott, who easily sidestepped the attack.
“Oh you definitely made sure of that, didn’t you?” the red Scott scoffed. Scott’s attacks faltered, and his other self took the opening. Scott managed to evade most of the blow, but he was stumbling and unsteady now, and the edge of the red Scott’s blade ended up cutting his arm.
“This- this isn’t even about him,” Scott protested, but his voice came out weaker than he meant it to.
“But you can’t resist thinking about him anyway, can’t you? I’ve been in your head, Scott. No matter how hard you try, that fool in a cod head can’t escape your attention. But you ruined everything you could have had with him before it had barely begun,” the red Scott taunted, continuing to strike at Scott, and he could barely block the blows as he continued to speak.
“Stop,” Scott managed to get out, choking back a sob as he tried to continue fighting his other self.
“He was an Icarus, and you were his sun. He got too close and you burned him, Scott. Everything that you touch crashes and burns, so why not give in? Why not let me take the reins- certainly things would be better without you,” the red Scott crooned, and he didn’t even need to raise a sword to send Scott reeling. Before he knew what he was doing, he lowered his sword, and the red fog started closing in, becoming tangible and wrapping around Scott, pinning his arms to his sides.
“Wait- no!” Scott cried, trying to struggle against the strange red substance, but it was too late. It had Scott firmly in its clutches, and the red Scott grinned.
“Goodbye, Scott,” he said with a cackle, and the last thing Scott saw was a blade slashing towards him.
-
It had at most been a few hours since they had locked Jimmy away with Scott when he woke up. Scott sat bolt upright in bed, chest heaving as he accidentally dislodged Jimmy’s hand from his own. Jimmy reached out for his hand again, but froze when he saw Scott’s eyes. They were red. Jimmy knew what he had to do- he had to tell the others that Scott had lost to the corruption. But Jimmy still couldn’t find it in himself to give up on Scott. So he sat there, frozen as he watched Scott catch his breath, eyes blood red and the corruption visibly pulsing beneath his skin.
“Scott?” Jimmy asked softly, still foolishly clinging to hope. Scott’s head snapped to him, and with a growl he lunged at Jimmy. He successfully tackled him to the ground, hands around his throat. A horrible choked noise escaped Jimmy’s lips as he clawed at Scott’s hands, struggling to breathe. He couldn’t even call out to his friends if he wanted to, and he felt his vision already darkening at the edges. His friends had been right, and all Jimmy could think about was how he would never see Scott’s brilliant icy blue eyes again.
Suddenly there was a bright purple flash between them. Gem’s crystal! It seemed to have worked, causing Scott to scramble off of Jimmy and hiss in pain. Jimmy rubbed at his throat, his other hand up placatingly as he gave Scott a pleading expression. But there was no recognition in Scott’s now crimson eyes, just fiery anger. He lunged at Jimmy again, despite the crystal around his neck, and the two of them grappled for control. The crystal still glowed brightly, causing Scott to hiss in pain, but he still kept coming after Jimmy, trying to pin him down and get a grip on his throat again. Jimmy had to get away, he had to call for help. He managed to shove Scott off of him, and scramble to his feet- but Scott got up just as quickly. There was a brief moment of stillness, of both of them catching their breath. But the second Jimmy tried to make a break for the hidden door, Scott’s wings suddenly drew back and snapped closed on Jimmy’s head, causing his ears to ring and his vision to blur from the blow. He fell to his knees, blinking rapidly to try and get his vision to clear. He vaguely registered a blur of white and blue lunging at him and fully tackling him down to the ground. He tried to push Scott off of him again, but his wrists were snatched up and forcefully pinned on either side of his head.
The ringing in Jimmy’s ears finally ceased and his vision cleared to see Scott above him with a manic, victorious grin on his face. And well… Jimmy got an idea. Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea- but Scott had him pinned, and his face was inches away from Jimmy. He couldn’t help but think of the first time they fought like this- and that felt like centuries ago, now. Except that time Jimmy didn’t think either of them wanted the other to die. But here Scott was, trying to kill Jimmy… and there was only thing Jimmy could think of to maybe unbalance Scott. So he lunged up, eyes squeezed shut as he crushed his lips against Scott’s. If he had kept his eyes open, he would have seen the red in Scott’s eyes flicker before they fluttered shut, and the corruption slowly seep out of his skin. But Jimmy was too focused on the way Scott kissed him back, hands releasing his wrists to instead cup his face and run through his hair. Jimmy almost got lost in the kiss- in Scott's small gasp paired with a pleasant shiver as Jimmy’s hands brushed the base of his wings when his arms wrapped around him, in how Scott kissed him as desperate as a man fighting not to drown- but then Jimmy remembered the reason he had kissed Scott in the first place. He neatly flipped them over, breaking the kiss and grabbing Scott’s hands, intending to pin him like he had done to Jimmy- but then he saw Scott’s eyes. They were confused and disorientated, but were the icy blue shade that Jimmy knew so well.
"You could at least take me out to dinner first before you pin me like that," he joked weakly. Jimmy let out a mildly hysterical laugh. He scrambled off of Scott to instead pull him into his lap and hug him tightly.
"You're okay!" he said in a gasp. Scott slowly hugged him back, expression twisted with confusion and disbelief.
“I- you- did you- but I thought I was dead... so- what? How?” Scott asked, looking like his brain was going a million miles a minute.
“That corruption in your skin- we did everything to try and stop it or remove it, but nothing was working- and it was up to you to fight it off and you almost didn’t- but of course you did in the end, you’re- you’re you…” Jimmy trailed off, pausing for only a brief moment before gently cradling Scott’s jaw and pulling him into a kiss. Scott kissed him back for half a second, before pulling back with wide eyes. Jimmy’s stomach started turning nervously, and he drew his hand back from Scott’s face.
“Why are you- you kissed me? And still want to kiss me? Why?” he asked in disbelief. Jimmy laughed nervously.
“I uh. I got carried away, huh? I just- I was so relieved you were alive, and that you were… you. And the first time I was just trying to throw you off, but I guess that was the final push you needed to fight back,” Jimmy explained sheepishly. Scott still looked hopelessly lost.
“But- but I betrayed you. And I just tried to kill you!” he protested.
“You weren’t yourself,” Jimmy said softly.
“But I was when I was working with Fwhip! You- you shouldn’t want to do anything to do with me- you said so yourself!” he continued, tears gathering in his eyes. Jimmy took Scott’s hands, squeezing them gently as he looked at Scott right in the eyes.
“Scott. I should have listened to you when you tried to tell me that you cared, and I should have believed you when you told me that you were only trying to protect me. I’m sorry for pushing you away, Scott,” Jimmy said firmly. Scott still looked like he was on the verge of tears, but he didn’t pull away from Jimmy.
“But- but I wouldn’t have even gotten feelings for you if Fwhip hadn’t told me to keep an eye on you,” Scott protested weakly. Jimmy pondered this for a moment, gaze darting away before looking back to Scott with a softly determined expression.
“When did you first realize you had feelings for me?” he asked. Scott blinked in surprise at the question, and he swallowed nervously before answering.
“It was the day I had stolen the slimeball from you. You- you chased after me, grinning like an idiot and the scales on your stupid cod head were glinting like bronze in the sunlight… you- you were irrevocably radiant, and I realized I didn’t want a world without your smile or laugh in it,” Scott confessed softly. Jimmy grinned, heart soaring.
“That was when I realized it too. And if we’ve both cared about each other for that long… then what’s the point in getting fussed over the reason why?” Jimmy replied. Scott let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob as he abruptly leaned forward and hugged Jimmy tightly. Jimmy hugged him back, running a hand through rustled feathers and smoothing them out.
“I’m so sorry for everything, I know it wasn’t all my fault- but the explosion, everything before that…” Scott trailed off into sobs. Jimmy shifted, pressing a kiss to his hair.
“It’s alright, I promise you it’s alright- that you’re alright, and that we’re alright. I forgive you, it wasn’t your fault,” Jimmy murmured, holding Scott as he cried. Eventually the tears subsided, and Scott’s breathing evened out. Jimmy shifted slightly so that he could look Scott in the eyes- even if at first, that movement earned him a slight pout. Jimmy chuckled at the sight of it.
“Can we try that first kiss again? It keeps getting interrupted by silly things like trying to save each others’ lives and self-doubt,” he asked with a cocky grin. Scott laughed.
“I think I kind of like having you alive, Jimmy,” Scott said between laughs.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Jimmy teased with a grin, easily falling back into their playful banter. Scott smirked, leaning in until he was a mere breath away from Jimmy. Jimmy’s heart rate spiked very quickly, and at this rate maybe Scott was still trying to kill him. Not that Jimmy was exactly complaining if this was the way he went out, a handsome winged elf in his lap looking at him like he was the world.
“Shut up and kiss me, you idiot,” Scott murmured.
“Gladly,” Jimmy breathed out, before closing the little distance between them. It was fireworks behind Jimmy’s eyes, flowers blooming in his chest, it was sunlight and glittering gold- but most importantly it was Scott, alive and himself, safe in Jimmy’s arms.
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The Heart Underneath: Chapter 6
***This fic is being posted simultaneously on FanFiction.net and Ao3. I originally began it in 2016, and then life was life, and now I'm bringing it back because it deserves to be finished! I intended this story to be canon, but I cannot accept the events of the beginning of Season 4, so I'll write it with the ending that I intended.***
Chapter 5 Chapter 7
The Heart Underneath
Chapter 6: 12 and 13
In the months following the death of Celia, it had become apparent that Mrs. Shelby was pregnant. With no murder suspect in Celia's case and the coppers having no leads, Peggy Shelby became increasingly paranoid, worried about her children and herself. Once Finn was born, her mental state was so concerning that Aunt Polly was spending nearly every day at the Shelby house.
Encouraged by friends and family to take some time away, Peggy had recently returned from a trip to the country, a white horse in tow. But it didn't seem like her mind was any better, no matter how many times she smiled watching Tommy run the younger ones around Small Heath on the beautiful white horse.
One night after supper, John, Ada, and Martha sat on the top of the first floor landing. Peggy had been out since early morning and hadn't returned by dark. Tommy and Arthur quietly left the house to search for her, while Polly tried to keep up a smile for Ada and Martha, who were taking turns holding Finn while trying to eat their own meals. John turned his utensils over and over in his dish, forcing himself to eat a few bites. He met Polly's eyes and she knew John was just as worried as his older brothers. She squeezed his hand lightly, and tilted her head towards the girls. He nodded, understanding the message - don't say anything until they knew more.
John tried valiantly to keep up with Ada and Martha chattering as they cleaned up after supper, but they both could sense something was off. Polly eventually sent all the kids to bed early, and she paced the kitchen, the terrible feeling she'd had all day fully taking over.
The trio had been sitting on the first floor stair landing quietly for what seemed like hours before Tommy and Arthur came full force running through the door, screaming for Polly. Martha grabbed John's hand, and his other hand went to catch Ada's arm before she could run down the stairs. He signaled to both of them to remain where they were.
"She's gone Pol, Jesus Christ, she's gone!" Arthur shouted.
"What do you mean?! What happened?!" Polly responded, her voice rising in horror.
"Uncle Charlie had been looking for her all day. He found her in the cut. She's drowned, Aunt Pol. Our Mother is dead." Tommy managed to get out before falling to the floor on his knees, tears flowing as the truth started to hit the entire house.
Martha threw her arms around John and Ada, both of whom were so shocked they didn't know how to respond. All John could hear was Arthur breaking something in the kitchen and Tommy sobbing on the floor of the parlor, Pol's screams above it all. He put his hands over his ears, burying his head into Martha's hair as Ada cried against Martha's other side. What were they going to do now?
A high pitched wail began from a back bedroom, as if Finn had just been told that the mother he barely knew had left this world. John slowly pulled his head up and caught Martha's eye. She nodded, kissed his cheek, and went to Finn. John pulled Ada to him, and they slowly made it down the stairs, John leaning against the wall, Ada leaning against him.
Tommy looked up and saw his younger siblings, who had clearly heard the news. He held his arms out and they ran to him, wrapping themselves tightly against his body. Polly slowly collapsed in a chair, staring into nothing, while Arthur slumped against the kitchen door frame.
Upstairs, Martha picked up Finn from his crib, her heart breaking for him.
"Your mummy is with your brothers now. With my mummy and brother, too. We'll take care of you, Finny, promise." Martha said sadly, slowly rocking back and forth, her own tears joining the infant's. It was too much, it was all just too much.
Once Finn settled and fell back asleep, Martha carefully made her way down the stairs. She caught both Tommy and John's eye as she walked down the final few steps, their youngest brother held protectively against her chest. She felt their pain piercing through her, and all she could do was look back and hold steady for them, she knew what it meant to lose your mother.
Tommy slowly stood up and went to Martha, crouching down to hug her tightly before taking Finn into his arms. Ada had made her way to sit in Polly's lap, tears streaming down her face. John was left on the floor and Martha kneeled in front of him, taking his face gently in her hands. Their eyes connected and Tommy was reminded of the morning Martha came to live with them, it was a silent conversation that only the pair could hear. John finally nodded and wiped his eyes, as Martha grabbed his hand and helped him stand back up.
Late that night, as the house descended into silent grief, John lay awake in his garret room. How could he sleep, with the scene playing over and over and his head. Uncle Charlie looking for his mum, finding her gone. Tommy and Arthur breaking down. Finn screaming, Ada crying, Polly's blank stare. Martha holding his face. Her eyes speaking to him.
There was a soft knock on the door before it opened a crack.
"Johnny? You awake?" Martha whispered.
"Yea, come in." John responded, thinking vaguely to himself that Martha looked like a ghost in her white nightgown.
She came over to his bed and sat on the edge, tracing her fingers down the fresh tear stains on his face. He closed his eyes to the feeling, so gentle he almost started to cry again. Silently, he shifted over in the small bed, and Martha laid down next to him, adjusting the blankets to cover them both.
John opened his eyes to find Martha's face close to his, their eyes locking. He threw his arm across her side, and felt himself grow sleepy in the calm she brought to him. He was almost asleep when his eyes flew back open.
"Don't leave me, Mar. Promise me, you'll never leave." John said desperately, searching Martha's green eyes for assurance.
"I'll never leave you, Johnny. That's a forever promise." Martha responded solemnly.
He nodded and his eyes finally closed, exhaustion taking over. Martha watched his breathing slow down and regulate before she fell asleep herself.
Tommy was also awake, on the other side of the wall. He had heard the small footsteps up the stairs and into the room next to him. It was innocent and would be for awhile, but he knew once that door opened, there was going to come a time when he'd have to talk to John about what happened between men and women. For now, Martha was the best comfort for John, and he would stay quiet until the time was right.
It would be over 20 years before the Shelby siblings found out what really happened. Charlie had created the story not only for the family and Peggy's reputation, but for himself. He had loved Peggy from the moment they met as kids, and he tried everything possible to help her. Stayed in Birmingham for her. Didn't kill Arthur Shelby Sr. because she begged him not to. And for three days, he begged her not to kill herself. The memory of pulling her, lifeless, out of the cut haunted him every hour of every day. It was a burden he was unprepared for, but would learn to bear. Because he knew that she knew he would take care of it.
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