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unearthlydream · 9 months ago

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im sad and can't focus on work so instead time to scream into the fucking void so it at least looks like i'm trying to write this story thats due at the end of the day.

i keep finding myself thinking "i wish things were normal" and wishing i could go back to pre-Oct 31 and how things were before all of these things happened. but i don't think there is a noraml to get back to and i think that this is just what my life is now. and idk how to cope with that tbh lol ijust wanna jump off a building

i want to be able to see my friends and talk to people and work on craft projects but instead all i do is sit at home in silence after work dissociating into a game or a tv show because i don't have the energy. i can't lie and mask my way through life anymore and i feel uncomfortable w the fact that i can't have a conversation with anyone without them inevitably asking how i am or what i've been up to. how can i even engage with people when i have nothing positive to share and most of the convos just end up with "i'm so sorry, let me know if you need anything"??

my mom has been on and off dying (thankfully off for good now i think? long recovery process) since december. i've cared for my grandpa from oct 31-dec only for him to now be on palliative care. my family is being so normal and cool about it and i'm the youngest one and being forced to deal with all of their issues because my aunt and uncle can't be not self centered for once in their lives-- and obv my mom is dying and my grandma is grieving and helping w my mom so like who else is gonna take care of things and manage people's emotions and be a shoulder to cry on?

so i'm actually doing horribly and don't have the capacity to make up lies anymore. and what have i been up to? spending tons of time in hospitals and then getting various illnesses because people can't seem to mask up in a fucking hospital of all places!!! i don't have the energy to lie anymore bc i'm funneling everything i have into just waking up in the morning and doing thebare minimum to make sure i do'nt die and my household is clean enough that it's not a danger to my cat.

and even when my friends and partnersask like 'how can i support you' -- idfk put a bullet in my brain??? like no one can do anything to help me. i'm alone andhave always been alone and will always be alone and forced to be the mommy in every situation and i'm so tired. i just don't want tot hink. but then when i say 'it stresses me out that you're waiting on me to make the plans for groceries or doing laundry and i just need you to get it done,' i hurt peoples feelings and i'm being too rough.

i'm just so tired. i'm so fucking tired and i wish my brain didn't go from zero to "just kill yourself" so quickly. i wish i knew what i needed and how tomake it better. i feel like my stupid ass needs to be committed. i'm worried about self harming again as i already relapsed late last year amidst all of this. i'm worried one day i'll be so lcose to the end of my rope that i'll act on one of my impulsive thoughts and make things worse for myself.

i don't wanna worry anymore but i think that's just what's in the cards for me. which is like... doubly scary bc of the genetic lottery i've already won (mom had a stroke in her 40s and now is dealing with all of this which like.... most of it is caused by stress and not taking care of herslef and i'm falling down that same rabbit hole without my consent which is so cool and funky fresh).

and the worst part... i don't even think things would be easier if i died. the guilt of knowing what i'm leaving behind won't even let it in the realm of possibility.

this is so long. i might delete this later. but like holy fuck. a bitch needs a fuckin break. a bitch needs a resource officer or somethnig like hold fuck.

#personal

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for-your-safety-please · 1 year ago

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Hello.

After the previous incident with your dad, I have decided to compile some notes to assist in your day-to-day life.

I am so sorry for your dad’s death this past Thursday.

He was a very good father.

You can find your dad’s work-shirt hidden underneath his mattress. If it is any color except black or has visible wear then it is the wrong shirt. They are attempting to keep you away from the shirt. To counteract this, simply let the cat in the room. She will be waiting outside the door and you will be able to grab the shirt. They do not like the cat.

You should not take or leave anything (except the shirt) from your dad’s room. Anything of sentimental value or importance will be retrieved from the room by Odion, so please be patient.

Please do not inquire about your father’s death to Odion. I know you must have many questions, but Odion is just as sad as you are and he needs to focus on his work.

If you hear the sound of knocking on the front door at night, do not answer. You should be in bed and asleep.

If you hear the doorbell ring then you can answer the door. There probably won’t be anything outside. Just make sure not to look too hard.

If you hear scratching on your window then sleep in the play room instead. No harm will come to you either way, but the scratching might keep you awake and I want you to sleep well tonight.

You don’t have a dog.

Continue to follow your father’s household-rules even though he is gone. Remember, they are here to keep you safe.

Do not show these notes to anyone. I am here because I want to help you. Keep my notes hidden from others so that you may refer to them later on. You can trust me.

Please stop giving the cat milk.

Once again, your house is safe.

-Yours truly,

P.S. Sorry this is so short. I’m in a bit of a hurry :)

#horror #horror story #creative writing #ongoing #my writing #writing

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turtle-steverogers · 3 years ago

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Mikeyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!

Steve and Bucky mentally adopt (and later on, legally) one of tony's interns (not peter) that is being abused at home and tony jokes about how they're such dads. any headcanons?

YES YES YES DAD STUCKY

and am i going to take this opportunity to shit on Joseph Rogers? you bet!

Okay so this intern is going to be named Daniel and he is 15 years old when they meet him, and Steve, unfortunately, sees a lot of himself in this kid. He recognizes the wariness around adults, the 0-100 way he deals with emotions because he never learned to regulate them in an abusive household, the fear masked by defiance. And fuck, he hates that for this kid. He HATES it. So he swears that he'll give this kid what he wished he could have-- a father figure to look up to and turn to and realize that not every adult man is going to hurt him.

He's patient and gentle with Daniel. It makes Bucky's heart melt and break in equal measure, because he can see that Steve is talking to the still hurting kid deep inside his own soul when Steve talks Daniel down from panic attacks or patiently sits with him through his anger, or swears never to raise his voice, even when he's upset. When Daniel moves in, Bucky sees how Steve seems to find every detail-- even the one's Bucky wouldn't think of, because his abuse was different. Like Steve making sure Daniel knows that he can eat whenever he wants and he'll never be denied a meal as a punishment, or how he makes sure Daniel knows he can lock his door for privacy and no one will infringe that privacy.

But he also sees Steve's trepidation. How his hands shake when there's high tension in the house, and how he'll leave if he feels himself getting angry so there's no risk of him lashing out and harming Daniel. He sees Steve's pure need to be a good dad-- an equipped dad-- and he's right there by his side, letting Daniel know he's safe and loved.

anywhoooo some headcanons:

-Bucky cooks for them all and teaches Daniel to cook alongside him

-Daniel ends up playing football in high school and they go to Every Single Game

-Daniel's really into reading, so they have Sunday night outings where they'll go to a restaurant (they trade off who chooses where to go every week) and then go to a bookstore after and get hot cocoa and buy a book

-When there's nightmares, it turns into a movie night

-Saturdays are fun breakfast days and so many memories are made while Steve annoys Bucky while making pancakes and Daniel squirts whipped cream down Steve's shirt

-Steve and Bucky go all out for sleepovers for Daniel-- they bring him and his friends to Target beforehand and let them go ham with snacks and then bring them all to the Tower for Maximum Fun

-Alpine gains a friend when Daniel comes home one day and finds a tabby cat has followed him

-The tabby gets named "Debrah" per Steve's coining

-Daniel also gets super into reptiles and for his birthday, Steve and Bucky get him a gecko which he names "Bilbo"

anyway lakfjsdlkfjalskd dad stucky. my lifeblood

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #dad stucky

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uniquevocashark · 4 years ago

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Tea and Ice Lattes

Part 2

tw cussing and mentions of pain

...

Rosalyn relieves you of work immediately after the Countess leaves, and Maxwell spreads the salve on you before you can bloody your cheek.

“Hey,” he snaps his fingers in front of you and you jolt upright. “Hey, stay with us.”

You look around and find that the back room is trashed, the chairs thrown about and the table flipped over. Rosalyn has your arm trapped against the wall, your fingers twitching back and forth. You open your mouth to speak but your jaw aches so bad you snap it shut.

“Here.” Rosalyn murmurs, and spreads a bit more salve on your face. Your eyes water but the pain fades eventually. “You should go home until this heals.” She counsels, letting go of your arm slowly.

You rub your cheek and wince.

It takes longer to heal than you think it should.

The first three days you’re never far from an ice pack and you burn through three quarters of the salve before the pain cools. Rosalyn checks up on you those days, often with jars or bowls that someone left for you at the store of foods so soft you can suck them up a straw. After that, Maxwell takes her place, though he doesn’t stay long.

A week after your incident, he comes by with a large purple box, wrapped with a ribbon softer than anything you had in your house. The card stuck to it was equally as soft and shone like spun silver under the light.

“Hey,” You greeted him, “What the fuck is this?”

“Yeah.” He laughed uncomfortably, then handed the box over. It’s too large to fit under your arm, so you end up carrying it like a forklift with your arms out and palms up. You wonder how he even managed to carry it up the stairs, let alone fit it through the doorways.

Your name is written in large, loopy cursive on the letter, in letters too large to have been comfortable to write with a normal sized hand. “Do I need to worry about this?”

“Oh, nah,” He shrugged, “We did the cat test, and it turned out fine.”

“The cat test?”

“Yeah, the cat test.”

“Elaborate, please?”

“It’s an old superstition about the Dimitrescu’s. Nothing dangerous,” He assures you when you look at the box suspiciously, “We rubbed a couple cats on it.”

“You rubbed cats on the box?”

“Yeah. We held them up like Simba and rubbed them on the box.”

“Alright then,” You say, “Which one is it from?”

“I don’t know,” He paused, checking his watch, “hey, I gotta go. Adrian and I are going on a lunch date.”

“Oh, right. Have fun!”

“Yeah. See you later.”

…

By nightfall, after you’ve managed a dinner of chicken nuggets and creamed corn, you still haven’t opened the box. It’s very picturesque unopened, like those aesthetic photos you see sometimes. The letter, too, is very nice, with a proper wax seal to close it.

It smells distinctly like the Countess, which makes your face itch so badly you have to flee to the kitchen and get the salve to calm yourself down. You make yourself a coffee. It isn’t a good thing to do, especially so late at night, but you drain two cups before you can force yourself back into the lounge.

The letter isn’t anything special though, or particularly harmful. It’s a long three pages of an obvious copy paste offering all kinds of platitudes and condolences that don’t really have anything to do with you. The only thing of note is the handwritten note at the end, which differs from the mechanical writing of the letter with thick cursive in red ink.

To whom it may concern,

I hope this gift will convince my errant daughter that my apologies to you are sincere, and that I didn’t mean any truly debilitating harm to a lovely creature like yourself.

With my full regards,

Countess Dimitrescu

“Creepy.” You say to no one and through the letter back on the table.

You take the lid of the box and are met with a mountain of velvet. Beneath the lilac layers is a set of teacups and a finely filigreed book. The book is an 1898 version of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, which is a little on the nose, considering the Dimitrescu family history.

The teacups though are too large for you, more like a soup cup than anything, painted delicately on each of the sides are birds. One depicts a duck, another a hummingbird, and another a kingfisher. They’re a little impractical, especially since you don’t drink tea, but they are lovely.

Hidden in one of the teacups is a bundle of duck fluff and feathers and a small portrait of a very happy duck in a finely made suit.

…

You decide to treat the teacups like a white elephant, because they are no doubt expensive, and you want to have them sit around for a little bit before you use them. The book is even worse to look after, because you have no idea how to keep it pristine and end up keeping it along with the duck portrait in the box.

Thursday rolls through with a lazy breeze and light snow. It’s spring, and the icicles on your windows are a little smaller than they were yesterday. Maxwell comes by practically glowing, and he spends the walk to work gushing over his boyfriend. They went a town over to have lunch, where the place was built half in the woods and half out of it.

You’re barely into the rhythm of work before you’re swamped. It is nice to be able to do something again, that isn’t scratch your cheek and watching the same series for the fourth time, so despite the heavy work load you find yourself smiling.

Today must be a special day too, because Alcina walks in around one, wearing a perfect purple pantsuit and sleek black and red heels. She seems surprised to see you, and her smile is more genuine than she usually directs at other people.

“You’re better.” She says by way of greeting, leaning forward more so than usual as she stands at the counter.

“I am!” You smile, straightening your apron, “Your usual today?”

Her chest gives a little peep. You peek lower than you usually would and see a duckling in the fold of her jacket, its beak peeking between her fingers. Alcina clears her throat, her smile a little more sheepish, “That was a yes.”

Her duck peeps again and she remains by the counter, watching you make the drinks.

“Archibald,” You hear her admonish quietly, her voice thick and disappointed, “That is very naughty, young man.”

Archibald peeps quietly again, and it sounds cheeky. You glance over and see Archibald held to her eye level, her lips pursed, and eyes narrowed.

“Are you taking it to go?” You ask after a second, not sure if interrupting is rude or not.

“No,” She says calmly, at odds with the face she gives her duckling, “Here is fine.”

You look at her a second longer, the way her face isn’t drawn or tight. Alcina languidly strokes the top of Archibald’s head, and she seems calmer than the last time you say her.

She catches your eye, “Yes?”

“Oh, nothing.” You smile and she looks away.

…

“I wanted to ask a question.” Alcina says as she comes up to pay.

“Yes?” You reply.

“Would you accompany me to an event this weekend?”

You deposit the money into the till. You weren’t, precisely, busy. Being cooped up at home for the week with nothing to do meant that you had powered through your household chores. Archibald, as if he could sense you debating, waddled towards you on the counter and shook his little tail feathers. He was from a large breed, almost twice as large as your hand, and he nudged at your fingers until you pet him gently.

“If it’s on Saturday, then yes.” You say.

Her fingers shook for a second and her voice was smooth as cream as she whipped a pair of black glasses onto her face. “Excellent. I’ll pick you up at ten on Saturday?”

“From the store,” You say quickly.

Alcina scooped Archibald into her hands, “Yes! Yes, of course.”

You gave her the receipt. “I’ll see you Saturday then.”

“Yes, Saturday.”

She strode from the store more quickly than you’ve ever seen her move. You looked at Maxwell and he looked at you before cracking a smile.

“Holy shit.” He laughed, “She asked you out.”

“I guess she did.” You say lightly.

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Somebody has a crush.”

You flip him off.

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #tea and ice lattes #my writing #duck finally returns #coffee shop AU

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

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Satisfied, Part 43

First

~~~

For two vigilantes, they seemed to know nothing of stealth. Damian was getting dragged around by a girl pretty much half his size in a suit that looked more expensive than every house on the street combined. Marinette was wearing her Red Robin hoodie but it never dawned on her that she should pull the hood up to cover her face even when people stared at them.

So, it was no surprise that people were snapping pictures of the pair.

Her phone dinged like it usually did when she was mentioned on Twitter and she scowled as it started going off like an alarm, bringing even more attention to them. She turned her phone on silent and stuffed it back in her bag hastily, but it was too late. People had noticed them, and were now following them.

It was because of all this attention that they didn’t notice that two of the people tailing them were in familiar suits.

At least not until they were in the bad part of town which, really, isn’t the best place to be abducted.

She chanced a look back to see them and her face paled. “Damian.”

“What?” He asked, his hands in the pocket of his suit where she figured he had a few tiny weapons stashed. She tipped her head back towards them and he followed her gaze. He sighed and shook his head exasperatedly. “Man, can’t we run away from our problems in peace?”

She gave a short, somewhat bitter laugh. “Can’t we do anything in peace?”

His sigh was enough of an answer.

Their eyes fell on the people following them, who had sped up when they’d noticed them. They were definitely trying to be subtle about it, because onlookers tended to be more protective of people who looked younger, but they were steadily gaining on them.

Marinette and Damian locked eyes and gave each other a short nod.

They turned down an alley together and then broke into a sprint. They heard the people behind them curse and pick up speed.

They couldn’t just attempt to beat them up, no matter how much easier it would be. After all, they could only pass off so much fighting as just your average self-defense. No, they had to outrun them or outsmart them.

Luckily, these guys probably couldn’t injure them. Based on what she assumed happened to the people who had sprained her ankle before, they’d been given pretty strict orders to keep them healthy and safe.

A straight fight was unlikely on both sides.

Their eyes darted over the alley as they ran through, looking for an out. One of them might be able to climb on a dumpster or some trash cans to the safety of the rooftops, but the other would definitely be caught. Marinette settled for kicking over the trash cans as they passed and then running to catch up to her.

A glance back showed that it had hardly slowed them at all. Damn.

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek (a very painful thing to do while running) and then her eyes found their way to a bunch of stray cats. She tapped his arm and he looked over, only to cringe.

“I haven’t really gotten the hang of --.”

“We learn under pressure in this household! Try it!”

Damian sent her a slight glare before waving to the strays. To the henchmens’ surprise, the cats seemed to nod before darting out to go attack the henchmen. They heard their cries of pain and looked back to see the cats scratching their faces.

They flashed matching grins --.

Only to bump into a pair of henchmen at the end of the alley. Marinette bounced back and hit the ground with a curse. Damian didn’t fall beside her, mostly because the nearest henchman had grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved a needle in his neck.

Marinette groaned as a bag was forced over her head from behind. She didn’t bother to struggle. No normal person could fight off three well-trained henchmen at once. Hands bound her wrists and ankles roughly and she cringed as she was picked up.

“You know, it’s really not fair of you guys to outnumber us. It’s almost like you want to win or something,” she joked quietly.

No response. Man, why couldn’t her abductors at least have a sense of humor?

The bag was pulled off of her head and she cringed at the light beaming down on her. “You know, you guys really need to stop abducting me. Honestly, just give me a ring. I’ll be here,” she said, tipping her head back to rest against the chair.

Her eyes flickered over Harley and Poison Ivy, who were both smiling at her. Then to Riddler, who was so uninterested he was actually on the other side of the room. And finally to Penguin, who was casually scrolling through his phone.

Wait, where was Damian? Her face went pale as she looked around wildly for her partner, only to find he wasn’t present.

“Where’s…?”

“He’s safe, if that’s what you’re asking,” said Penguin, giving a vague wave of his hand.

She let herself relax a little. Sure, Penguin was liable to lie to her for his own gain, but she had nothing of value to him (or so he thought) and honestly he’d probably have more to gain from telling her that they were intending to harm him.

“Aw, so you’re worried about your little boyfriend?” Cooed Harley.

Marinette laughed and shook her head. “Ew! He’s like a brother to me! Besides, I’m already dating someone.”

Harley’s eyes widened. “And you never told me? Oh my god! Who?”

She found herself looking at her feet, red creeping across her face. “Uh… Tim.”

There was a silence as the two female Rogues looked at each other, conflicted expressions on their faces. Ah, makes sense. If both of the kids you had somehow ‘adopted’ ended up liking the same person, you’d probably be a bit conflicted as well.

Marinette pretended to shuffle awkwardly in her chair in their distraction, checking her bindings, and was annoyed to find that they were rather tight.

After the silence had stretched on too long, Marinette sighed. “Right, why am I here again?”

“Oh, yeah!” Harley snapped her fingers. “Are you going to the Wayne Gala?”

“Yeah,” she said simply. “Why?”

“Um… no reason!” Said Poison Ivy, who was shockingly bad at lying for someone who’s entire criminal career was based on seducing and killing rich assholes. “Just… thinking that maybe you should head home early!”

Marinette blinked a few times and then frowned. “Why? How early?”

“Uhhhh… curfew! You’re a kid and your parents aren’t here! You need a curfew!”

Harley sighed and shook her head with a fond smile on her face. “We’re going to do something at eleven-thirty, so please try and leave by eleven.”

She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded slightly. What could they be doing? It was a masquerade and the reveal was at midnight, it couldn’t be something to do with the actual people there. But, if it was a simple robbery, then why would they wait until the Gala? Was it dramatic effect? Why would --?

“Great! You should get your friends out, too.”

She hesitated. “But they’re the hosts. They can’t just… leave.”

“Why not? It’s a masquerade. It’s not like anyone would know.”

Marinette had to give it to them. They had a point. “Right, fine, I’ll leave early. Is that all?”

Harley nodded and beamed as she leaned down to let her go, only to be stopped by Penguin. Everyone in the room paused and looked up, even Riddler gave a curious glance.

“No, I have one last thing to ask,” he said. He showed everyone his phone. Everyone went stiff with shock at whatever it was. Then, finally, he let her see what was so interesting.

She tried not to pale.

It was a picture from the night Robin had died. The picture was blurry, she and Robin had been in a hurry when she’d dragged him to her apartment, but it was clearly them.

She gave an awkward laugh. “That’s… not really a question, now is it?” What else could she say? Even if she thought up some brilliant lie, which was unlikely, Harley would be able to catch her out on it.

“Darlin’... do you… know who Robin is?” Asked Harley slowly, looking betrayed.

Marinette felt a guilty pang in her chest. Sure, they were criminals, but she’d become fond of them all -- excluding Joker -- over the time they’d spent together. She didn’t want them to feel sad, much less betrayed, because of her.

All she could do was stare at the ground.

“Would you tell us?” Asked Poison Ivy, kneeling down to look her in the eyes.

Marinette’s eyes flicked away from her face as quickly as possible, but it wasn’t fast enough. She bit the inside of her cheek. “I…”

Penguin pulled up a new photo, this one of her pulling Damian through the streets earlier that day. “Is Damian Robin?”

She swallowed thickly. “No.” Not anymore, at least, she thought.

There was a silence as Harley scrutinized her face. Eventually, she shook her head. “She’s telling the truth.”

“I guess that was a stretch,” admitted Penguin. “Worth a shot, though.”

“Who is it, then?” Asked Poison Ivy.

“You won’t be able to guess,” she said.

Harley gave a quiet sigh of frustration and crossed her arms over her chest. “She’s confident. We’re not getting answers from her, apparently.”

“That is because you’re asking the wrong questions,” said Riddler, crossing to their side of the room in three steps.

Marinette’s smug expression dropped. He sat down in front of her and she resisted the urge to lean away from him. She didn’t like the look in his eyes, the way he was smiling like he’d accidentally found that missing piece of his puzzle underneath the box. He pulled a deck of cards from his pocket and started shuffling them idly.

“The wrong questions?” She echoed quietly.

“Yep! Who cares who they are, because ultimately we should be asking who you are!”

Marinette frowned. “Who… who I am?”

“Of course! Why exactly do Robin and, presumably, the other bats talk to you?”

The warehouse was completely silent save for the quiet shuffling of his cards. The Rogues were looking curious now as well, and Marinette’s skin crawled. She didn’t at all like where this was going, but trying to avoid whatever he was saying would definitely lead to them being more suspicious. All she could do was accept her fate.

She gave as big a shrug as she could. “They helped me.”

“But they help a lot of people! What’s so special about a little French designer?” His hands stilled and he smiled, setting down his cards and steepling his fingers in front of his face. “Unless, of course, you’re more than a French designer.”

“So, Marinette, are you Ladybug?”

Her breath left her throat in a wheeze. She wanted to deny it, she did, but Harley was scrutinizing her face so hard that she knew that it would be useless. All she could do was hang her head.

Silence loomed over them as the news sunk in.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, Penguin started laughing. Marinette’s head snapped up. She’d never heard the sound before, and now she was wishing she never had. There was something so unsettlingly… humorless about his laugh, it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

The top of his umbrella pressed to the back of her neck, the razor sharp tip drawing a little bit of blood.

“Now, Ladybug, here’s how things are gonna go…”

~~~

“This is a telenovela at this point”

Shit they’re onto me

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace @fantasiame @qualitypeacepainter @multplelifes @kokotaru @spicybelladonna

#yknow just once id like to NOT improvise new plotlines on the fly #timinette #timari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #maribat #satisfied #red robin #tim drake

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jammatown919 · 4 years ago

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Nothing is Wrong With You

Cross-posted on Wattpad

Content: Amity has a hard time coming to terms with her gay awakening.

Luz had no idea what she'd done to warrant the cold shoulder she was getting from Amity. For two weeks, their time at Hexside had been giving them daily opportunities to bond. They only had one class together, what with Luz splitting her time between nine different Tracks, but her Abomination class was quickly becoming her favorite, simply because it meant she could pair with Amity for group work. At least a twice a week, they'd seek out each other at break instead of their other friends, go out to the bleachers by the Grudgby field, and just spend their twenty minutes of free time talking. Even at lunch, while they'd both opted to go on eating with their separate groups, they would at least wave at each other. But now, Luz was lucky if she even got a quick hello before Amity scurried away; more often than not, Amity just pretended not to see her.

It took three days of Luz trying to catch Amity and apologize for her unknown offence before she realized that it wasn't just her. Amity was giving Boshca and the rest of her posse the exact same treatment, and refusing to work with others in class unless it was absolutely mandatory. The most confusing part, though, was that when group work was mandatory, Amity completely bypassed friends wanting to work with her and simply sat down with an unsuspecting quiet boy and began their work. Luz didn't even know this boy's name, nor had she ever seen Amity talking to him before. She'd even gone up to him after class and asked if they were friends, but he'd told her that he and Amity barely knew each other, and that he was just as surprised as she was.

And so, four days into the silent treatment, Luz made it her personal mission to figure out what was going on. At break on Friday, Luz hurried from her Oracle class and made her way through the halls to the classroom she knew Amity would be leaving. By the time she got there, Amity was gone, but Boscha was standing by the door with another girl Luz had yet to properly meet.

"Have you guys seen Amity?" She asked, wilting slightly under Boscha's judgmental gaze.

"Her human friend. How cute," The young witch gave a fake chuckle. "Would you happen to know anything about why she's been so weird lately?"

"No," Luz didn't like Boscha's tone; it sounded like she was implying Luz might've had something to do with Amity's recent behavior. "I'm trying to figure it out. That's why I need to find her."

"Probably out by the Grudgby field again," Boscha turned back to her friend. "But if she won't talk to us, I don't know what makes you think she'll talk to you."

Luz let out a huff and marched to the nearest side door, biting down on her tongue to prevent herself from snapping at Boscha. She was just as much Amity's friend as anyone else! Even more so than people like Boscha, who weren't even trying to figure out what the problem was.

Luz stomped toward he Grudgby field, her eyes scanning the bleachers for any sign of Amity. There she was, on the first set, sitting in their usual spot with her knees pulled up and her face buried in them. Was she crying? Luz broke into a run, climbing up the bleachers so fast that she tripped and fell forward, catching herself on her hands.

"Amity!" She exclaimed as she got back to her feet. Amity looked up at her like a deer in headlights, tears streaming down flushed cheeks. "What happened?"

"Go away!" Amity snapped, desperately wiping at her eyes as if to regain some dignity, though in reality she was just smearing eyeliner. Her ears sank into a downward position, not unlike an irate cat.

"Amity-"

"Why can't you just leave me alone?!" Amity shouted, and despite her words, Luz reached out for her. Amity shrank away and hissed; an actual, legitimate hiss, showing off pointed canines. Luz had seen those before, but she'd never seen them used as a warning to stay away; part of her wondered if Amity would bite if provoked, but the rest of her trusted Amity not to harm her.

"Because I'm your friend," Luz plopped down beside Amity, hesitantly resting a hand on her shoulder. Amity shrugged her off with a grunt and buried her face in her knees again, presumably to avoid eye contact. "I want to help you. Please, Amity, what's going on?"

"I can't tell you," Amity mumbled miserably, her voice muffled by her legs. "You'll think less of me."

"I could never think less of you," Luz promised softly. Had Amity done something? That wasn't like her, she was typically a model student. "You don't have to tell me if you really don't want to, but I promise that if you do, I won't judge you."

Amity turned her head so that her cheek rested on her knee, showing Luz her face. She seemed to consider for a moment, her ears sinking even farther as she sat up.

"Something is wrong with me," She finally croaked. Luz's shoulders tensed with worry as Amity paused, seemingly unable to continue for a moment. "Recently, I've been a having these... thoughts. About other girls. The kind of thoughts I'm supposed to have about boys."

Luz waited for Amity to continue, but it seemed that was it.

"That's what's wrong with you?" She asked. Amity gave her a look, like she'd just asked the dumbest question in the world. "Amity, there's nothing wrong with that. You're just a lesbian."

"I'm NOT!" Amity's voice rose to a scream as she straightened, her ears shooting up. Luz winced and Amity softened, letting out a sigh. "Sorry, just- I'm not gay. I can't be gay."

"Why can't you? Is your family not accepting?" Luz asked. She'd never though much about what it might be like to grow up in an unaccepting household. She'd been blessed with a mother who, despite constantly pushing her to be normal, never judged her bisexuality.

"I'm sure the twins would be fine," Amity sighed. "They might tease me a little, but nothing genuinely cruel, especially not after the library incident. Its my parents that I'm worried about. I have no idea how they'd react, but I'm pretty sure that it would at least disappoint them. I'm supposed to be perfect."

"You can be perfect and gay, but you don't have to be perfect," Luz scooter closer to Amity, half-expecting her to shy away, but she stayed where she was. "There's nothing wrong with you liking girls. If your parents would judge you for who you love, then I'm sorry, but they're not good people. You shouldn't have to be ashamed, Amity."

"But I am ashamed," Amity muttered, averting her eyes. "You have no idea what this feels like."

"Of course I do," Luz leaned in close, like she was telling Amity a secret. "I like girls too. Well, girls and boys, but you get the idea."

"Wait, really?" Amity meet Luz's eyes uncertainly. "And nobody judges you?"

"Well, I haven't told many people on the Boiling Isles yet, but so far, no." Luz shrugged. "Like I said, there's nothing wrong with it, some people are just hateful."

"Thank you," Amity sighed and gave Luz a little smile. "And I'm sorry for being so cold recently, I just thought that maybe, if I stopped hanging out with girls, I would stop liking them."

"You don't have to stop," Luz took Amity's hand in her own, running her thumb over the back of it. Amity's face flushed, the tips of her ears turning pink as they tilted ever so slightly downward. "Coming out can be really hard, but when you're ready, I'll be more than happy to help you through it."

"How are you such a good friend?" Amity chuckled and leaned in to rest her head on Luz's shoulder

"I just want people to be happy," Luz reached into the pocket of her cowl and produced a nearly empty packet of tissues, holding it out to Amity. "Your eyeliner’s smudged." Amity took a tissue and began dabbing at the black marks around her eyes. "So... do you like any girl in particular?"

"Yeah," Amity smiled warmly, glancing up at Luz in a way that made her heart flutter. "She's so nice, and she's always there for me when I need her. I'll tell her soon, but not yet. I'm not ready yet."

Luz couldn't help but wonder if Amity was talking about her, which then led to her wondering if that was a selfish thought. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about her own chances, but who else could it be? Clearly, Boscha and the rest of the popular girls weren't too concerned with Amity's wellbeing, seeing how Luz was the only one who had actually tried to figure out what the problem was.

"Well," Luz put an arm around Amity's shoulders. "Whoever she is, she'll be lucky to have you."

Suddenly, the sound of the school bell reached Luz's ears, signaling the end of break.

"We're gonna be late!" Amity finished removing the last of the eyeliner from her face and stood up, shoving the crumpled tissue inside her cowl. "Thank you again, Luz. And please don't tell anyone about this."

"Of course," Luz replied as she stood. "I won't say a word, I promise."

Amity flashed one more smile, her canines seeming much less threatening this time around, and started down the bleachers. Luz followed, glad to be able to get near her again. Those four days of being ignored had been hell, especially with the recent closeness between them.

If nothing else, it had certainly reminded Luz how much she valued Amity's presence in her life. Once her walls were down, Amity was one of the best friends Luz had ever had, though she hoped that one day they might be more. She had no real way of knowing who had caught Amity's fancy until Amity decided to say it, but a girl could dream. Regardless of what happened next, at least Luz now had a much better chance than she'd ever thought she would.

#the owl house #lumity #luz noceda #amity blight #owl house #lgbtq #coming out

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amethyst-labyrinth · 5 years ago

Text

A writing exercise

“Why Mr. Mistoffelees!” The young human woman said stepping into the garden. “Have you made a friend?”

Mistoffelees only response was too butt his heard affectionately against Tugger’s before walking over to her and circling and rubbing against her legs. He sat in front of her and looked at Tugger silently saying,

‘See? Is she not the most beautiful, wonderful human that you’ve seen? Is she not all that is precious?

“Hello,” She said softly bending down and reaching her hand out for him to sniff. Tugger was no judge of human beauty. Humans came in all shapes, sizes and colors, Tugger knew, but they all were dull looking in his eyes, but there was something about this girl. She smelled nice, her voice was soft and kind and there was a melancholy air around her the same kind of air that surrounded Quaxo at times, well Mr. Mistoffelees was what he was called here and Tugger like the idea of calling him Mistoffelees.

And was for Mistoffelees sake that Tugger was allowing her to pet him, for Tugger was sure Mistoffelees would never forgive him should hiss at her or harm her, yes it was for Mistoffelees that he let her scratch him under his chin and not because he liked it.

“My how handsome he is,” She said as Tugger purred. “I wonder do you have home and someone who takes of and cares for you? Or shall you live with us?” She said petting all over looking for a collar, feeling his fur, for knots and matted fur.

To Tugger shame there were some and he did not have home, well not a real one sometime he stayed at the Vicarage with Old Deuteronomy or Munkustrap’s home when the weather was bad, but nether household suited him well.

“Yes I think you shall live with us indeed,” She said thoughtfully. “Isn’t that so Mr. Mistoffelees?

Tugger glanced at him, what did he think about it? Tugger found himself liking the idea, but if Mistoffelees didn’t want him to to stay, Tugger wasn’t what to do, their friendship was still somewhat new and fragile, living with him would ether strengthen it or brake it. Mistoffelees for his part simply lifted his all black front paw to his white face and began to groom as if to say ‘What is there to do? She’s made up her mind and it can’t be helped, you live here now.’

“Let me give you a kiss,” She said carefully lifting Tugger up from under his front legs and placing a gentle chaste kiss to his forehead. “From this day on I will love you forever will all my heart no matter what,” At the gesture and those words Tugger fell platonically in love with her. It was not same the level of love and devotion that Mistoffelees felt for her, but it was enough that he knew he would not abandon her for another human or house and he would try to be good cat for her. He would try let her hold and cuddle with him for a little while till he could stand it no more, he could never be a perfect cat, he knew it was not in his nature, but he would do his best for her.

“Let’s go into the house and have some breakfast and I’ll think up a name for you, “ She said getting up and brushing off the skirt of her long dress. “Come a long Mr. Mistoffelees, time to eat.”

Mistoffelees got up and walked over to Tugger and began to nudge him towards the kitchen door as they followed “The Girl”

‘Home,” Tugger thought when he stepped past the threshold into the warm cheery kitchen. ‘I am home.’

#cats the musical #ficlet #take place in the 1800's #Mr. Mistoffelees #mr mistoffelees #rum tum tugger #Quaxo #OC #tuggoffelees

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marvinswriting · 4 years ago

Text

Gut feeling

Prompt: no prompt in this one buddies, just check out bear's borrower!janis au. Like my g/t mg au its something i thought about a lot but never officially put down anywhere, but she did and you fucking bet im gonna write it

This is a long one boys, and there's still more i wanna write lmfao

Think about everything you know about borrowers-

-and throw it out the fucking window.

Yep, fuck your stereotypes. I'm Janis, and yeah I guess your right about the whole tiny-people-who-live-in-walls-and-steal. You're also creepily accurate with your borrower's code (so I wanna know who blabbed. Probably Gretchen, god. I always wonder where she was before this house). I'm sidetracked. Other then that, you guys got it all wrong.

We are very much aware of the concept of not all humans wanna kill or harm borrowers. Thank you very much.

We just know most of them do.

And we aren't as rare as you may think. Lots of humans know about borrowers, and you all think we're a dying species or a myth. No. We're just good at what we do, thank you. The goal is to live undetected. It's safer that way.

We also don't live totally alone, isolated in walls. Well, some of us do, and some of us wish we did. (Me, it's me, I hate my roommates.)

I live with Gretchen and Kevin. Won't call them friends, because they're not. We aren't close enough. We keep each other around because we'd go insane without the interaction from others. A borrowers life can be boring and isolated.

Its the total opposite of a human's. When the owners of the house sleep, we're awake doing food runs. When the owners of the house are awake, we're hiding away, tucked in bed.

And for a long time that worked. But then something changed. I think the owners of the house called it 'the school year ended'? Now the boy, Damian- from what we've gathered he's our age. But who knows, it's not like we can just go up and meet him. He definitely seems to be the most sympathetic one of the family.

The dad kills any fucking bug without even getting a good look, so like- don't get caught with him (not that you wanna get caught with any of them).

The mom watches a lot of gory sci-fi shows that always end up with the main character in some type of experimental facility so we don't trust her.

Damian just hides in his room, playing music and singing along. I like it, its harder for us to be heard that way.

The final member of the household is the fucking cat. Her name is Ariel which is supposedly a reference to some princess, but the only royal she is is a royal pain. Little bitch almost killed me once.

I'm so off track though.

Apparently, this 'school year' is over, and now Damian is home all the time. He doesn't have to get up early to leave so he's opted to not sleeping at night at all. Which is just great for us. He doesn't often leave his room, but Gretch, Kevin, and I have to be a lot more careful often resulting in us grabbing a lot less.

I glance around my 'bedroom'. Through the years I like to think it's grown to be decorated nicely. Unlike my two roommates, I pride myself in my living space. I spend most of my time here, so why not. Yeah, I have the necessities, but I also have other things like plants and makeshift art supplies. In the corner of my room is what you could call a bed and a bottle cap nightstand. There's a piece of a mirror hanging. We all found mirror shards and took them, and might I say life hasn't quite been the same since.

We don't really look at ourselves that often, there aren't many reflective surfaces to do so. Yeah, I'd catch my face staring back at me in my water, or on a shiny surface, but it was never as clear as the mirror. As I look right now, I just look stressed.

Pretty accurate.

I've got a weird feeling about tonight.

"We need food."

"No shit Gretchen."

Gretchen and I are sitting in our combined space, waiting for Kevin. I'm hesitant to call it a living room because it hardly looks lived in. There are four beer cap chairs (and three of us, it's fucking stupid- I know) a pizza saver as a table, and a bunch of miscellaneous items that haven't found a home yet.

"Hubbards are asleep." Kevin walks out from where he was keeping watch. "The kids light is still on and I couldn't locate the cat, are we sure we want to go out tonight."

"We need food," Gretchen repeats herself.

"We don't have much of a choice," I say, shoving makeshift grappling hooks and double-sided tape into my satchel, and grabbing another bad for food. "We gotta make a big run tonight. We can't guarantee a day by day flow anymore, Damian has to unpredictable of a sleep schedule."

Gretchen makes a noise of agreement, packing up her own things.

Kevin is still peaking out of the exit into the household, worriedly.

"Janis are you down for that trip tonight? You look stressed as fuck."

I bitterly. "Yeah, I'm just- tired. And hungry. And quite frankly I may be coming down with something."

"They stay away from me," Gretchen says, swinging her bag over her shoulder. "Ready?"

"Let's just grab food and go," Kevin says before spinning around to look at me. "Only food, Janis."

I nod. No point in trying to defend myself when he's not wrong. I have an awful habit of finding something I could use for art and going out of my way to grab it.

But we have priorities tonight.

We file out into the household, all pressing against the wall. The exit we used lead right to the floor. Its a debate on which was riskier, but I for one, preferred to be higher. Further from the cat and a better view of everything. Kevin mumbled something about keeping watch and made his way over to the island table the Hubbard had. He pulled out his climbing supplies and made his way up as Gretchen and I continued our trek across the floor, waiting to reach the kitchen to get to higher grounds.

"It hasn't been this hard since we all moved here." Gretchen says quietly, but I understand.

"Yeah." I whisper.

We all moved into this house together maybe two ago. We tell time by the day and the decor around the house. Humans often put of decorations for holidays and it's like marking points though the year. My least favorite holiday happens during the summer. I don't know the name but everything turns red white and blue and there's tons of loud booms and explosions. It kills my ears and sends me into sensory overload every time.

We've pasted two Christmases. I don't know much about the holiday, but its the most decorated, with fancy trees and cookie crumbs everywhere. A borrower's dream. But it wasn't like that now. It was hot and sticky, food got left out on the counter less. We haven't eaten anything more then the minimum to survive, if you don't count yesterday where we didn't eat at all.

I was so lost in my thought for food, I almost didn't hear it. Kevin calling out, the patter of paws on the floor-

-oh shit.

I whirl around just in time to have a paw whacked with my side.

Cat.

There was no claw, Ariel is here for a game of cat and mouse obviously. Roles already clear.

That didn't make it hurt less though.

I groan skidding across the floor, curled into myself.

Gretchen shrieks and runs away, the cat's interest on me.

She left me for fucking dead.

Wow.

Rude, but unsurprising.

I'd fucking bolt too. I wonder if Kevin ran as well.

My heart stops as the truth of the statement catches up to me.

I'm gonna die.

I'd like to say there's so much I still haven't done, or that my life had only just begun. But that wasn't true. I live to borrow another day and borrow to live another day. But I was content like that, I don't wanna die.

Ariel stalks towards me again. I sit up and push my self backward, only to find a wall.

Fuck.

I can see Gretchen duck back into the wall out of the corner of my eye, Kevin with her.

To be fair, I'd do the same. I can't bring myself to be too mad.

"Hey, kitty," I say softly, holding my hands out in defense. The cat sits down in front of me, eyes wide and pupils dilated, ready to play. "Ariel, right? Good kitty. I'm not a toy."

Ariel doesn't seem to get the message as she lifts her paw.

No!

"Hey, whatcha got there girl?" A voice comes from behind the cat.

My blood runs colder than it already was.

That was to loud to be Gretchen or Kevin, to masculine to be the mom, not deep enough to be the dad-

Hands pull Ariel away despite a mew of protest, leaving me totally exposed in the open.

Put the cat back I'd rather die that way.

My eyes connect with the boy of the household- Damian. His gaze travels up and down my small form and he lets out breathy 'what?'.

Once again, I know not all humans are bad, but you try not even being four inches call, curled up against a wall with a full ass living moving human standing there. It's a lot.

Damian kneels down so he isn't towering over me but it doesn't feel any better. I push myself closer to the wall, ignoring the pain in my side.

"Are- I uh-" Damian seems as equally at a loss as I am.

Don't worry buddy, I didn't think I'd be getting caught tonight either.

"Are you okay?"

I can't exactly say I've been caught before, so I don't exactly know the 'this is a bad guy' red flags, but asking about my well being probably isn't one of them.

"Yeah." I say, shakily. My voice is weak and seems a lot quieter in contrast to the boy's in front of me.

"I'm sorry about her." Damian said, placing the cat down. Ariel glares at me before walking away, clearly bored.

I could tell we were dancing around the important questions. What are you? Why are you so small? What are you doing here?

"My name's Damian."

I almost say 'I know' but believe it or not- I do have manners and hey, this human hasn't killed you yet, don't be rude and give him a reason to.

"Janis." I say, giving a small wave.

"Janis," Damian repeats like he's testing the name in his mouth. "It's pretty."

"Thank you." I glance around but as I suspected, my roommates did not even attempt to come back.

"You're a borrower." Damian states. It wasn't a question and his voice sounded sure, but his raised eyebrow told a different story.

"Yeah, we're real, just-" I take a breath. "Uncommon?"

Damian nods. He knew what I was right off the bat which probably means I'll have less explaining to do. It also made me feel safer in a way. It meant he's less curious. Not to mention he has yet to move any closer or invade my space, so I felt okay. I push myself off the wall a bit, trying to ignore how my head spins a bit from lack of nutrients.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted whatever you were doing. We'll leave if you don't want us here or-"

"No, it's okay. I honestly am glad I stepped in then I did- wait, we?"

Shit.

It was one thing to expose myself, but not I'm mentally hitting myself for exposing Gretchen and Kevin too.

"There are multiple of you?"

"Nonono forget I said anything." I wave my hand as if waving away nonexistent flies.

Damian looks like he wants to press more but doesn't. "What are you doing out here? It's like, four am."

"It's still early for me. We- I need food."

Damian's eyes light up. "Of course! Oh my god, I'm so sorry then. Do you-" He pauses. "Do you need help?"

My instinct is to decline but- there hasn't been much food out and Damian seems genuine. Its either die by cat or human. "Yeah, help would be nice."

Damian smiles softly. "Can I pick you up?"

What?

Oh.

Yeah.

Riiiight.

"Yeah, you can." I smile, trying to seem brave about this, but I've never been picked up before. The only time I'm off the ground is with my climbing tools with my fate in my own hands.

Damian places his hand down next to me, it's huge. The sheer size difference doesn't sink in when somebody is crouched a couple of human feet away from you.

I step onto his hand regardless, trying not to concentrate on how weird it feels.

"You ready?" Damian's voice asked from above.

Was I ready?

Why did I think this was a good idea?

I could die right here right now.

I don't know anything about this kid other than his name and his favorite musical soundtrack.

What if he's bad news?

"Yeah, I'm good." I say, despite my inner turmoil.

The ground beneath me shifts and as much as I like to think I was mentally prepared, physically I was not as I ungracefully fall backward into Damian's palms.

"You okay?" He asks, freezing.

He was as nervous as I was.

This sudden realization gave me a bit more confidence in the situation.

"Mhmm," I say, patting the hand beneath me gently. "Thanks."

"Of course." Damian says, and we're moving again. Its a significantly shorter trip from here to the kitchen for Damian. He holds me close to his chest, his fingers curled around me slightly. Its comforting, and contrary to what I expected, I don't feel ready to drop. I can see Ariel curled up contently on the couch, and the entrance to my home from here. One of them at least. I wonder if my roommates are watching or if they're already cleaning out my room.

Damian places his hand on the table and I get off on my own.

It feels better up here, to be further up. I don't feel as small when Damian steps away.

"You've made it clear it's just you," He does air quotes. "But how many people do you take food for."

The lie of 'it is only me' is the first thing on my tongue, but I hold it. Damian has done nothing but help me so far and he already knows there's multiple of us. No harm in giving exact numbers.

"Three," I say. "One with a big appetite." I smile as Kevin comes to mind.

Damian grins. "What do you normally take?"

"Whatever is out." I shrug, glancing around at the table. Just like the past couple of times, the tables were empty.

Damian notices this and is silent for a bit. "I'll have to conveniently forget to put stuff back then." He says quietly. I can't tell if he was talking to me or himself but I smile nonetheless.

"So, you've never had options?"

"No." I say. It feels weird to admit that. Damian grins.

"Guess you're in luck. Wait here." He turns around and walks over to a cabinet. Where am I supposed to even go?

His back isn't turned long enough to let me figure that out, because he soon comes back with two things. "So I brought this because I want you to try it," Its a cookie, I know that much from Christmas, but instead of decorative frosting and sprinkles its dotted with splotches of brown. "It's a chocolate chip cookie. And I brought this for practical reasons." He lifts up a bag. "Its granola and it comes in these little chunks- well for you they'd be big, but you can just break them off as you need!"

I smile at the thoughtfulness. Maybe this kid isn't all bad news.

He opens the bag and pours a bit into his hand before placing one on the table. Sure enough, a cluster of granola is just big enough to fit maybe two into my bag. I can break off a piece and it will last days (assuming Kevin doesn't go to town).

"Woah." I say softly, picking it up. This is the most food I've ever even been near in one place.

Damian chuckles as I carefully place the granola into my bag miraculously fitting three. One for each of us. Damian watches me silently, I guess we're both still stying to wrap our heads around the situation.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" He picks up the cookie breaking off a piece and handing it to me. It's the size of my head but I can just save what's left for later. Damian takes the rest for himself, watching as I silently break a piece off to eat.

It's grainy but smooth a the same time. Sweet and salty. It's-

"Woah."

Damian laughs, its loud and sudden, but also contagious.

I giggle a bit as I feel my face flush. I know he's not laughing at me maliciously.

"They're good right?"

"Yeah."

We fall into silence, and I look around. I've been up on the counters before, but I've always been in a rush, get food, and get out. I've never been this relaxed in the open and certainly never so close to a human.

I look up at Damian and he smiles. "What are you gonna do now?"

"Huh?"

"I don't know how true the stories are but isn't this where you leave and never come back because you've been caught? I won't tell anyone if you don't want to leave."

He had a point. But- the borrower's code wasn't law. More like- recommended guidelines? I mean, not true at all, but it's not written in stone or anything. Borrower police aren't gonna break in and arrest me or anything.

I think.

Besides, I didn't want to leave. I liked my room and my roommates (not that I'd admit that to them). They don't need to know I met a human. And Damian said he wouldn't tell anyone-

"How do I know I can trust you?"

The question had a lot more of an edge then I expected, but Damian didn't seem to take offense.

"You don't. But, follow your instincts. I'm not trying to trick you or anything if that's what your thinking."

He did help me get food. Which saved my life. He also saved me from the cat, which saved my life too. Even before he knew I existed, he always seemed to be the nicest Hubbard. Something tells me his word is good.

"I think I'm gonna stay," I say after a while. "I'll just- never tell my roommates about this. One of them flips over everything. She'd pack in an instant if she knew."

Damian smiled. "I understand if you hope to never see me again and if you wanna just walk away like this never happened, but I'll be sure to leave granola out every once in a while."

I grin. "Thanks, Damian." It felt weird to be so close to a human and already trust them so much. Something deep inside told me that this wasn't the last time we'd see each other, and that's okay.

"I figure you can get down on your own? You don't want me to know where you live or anything."

I shook my head, patting my climbing tools. "I got this from here. Thank you so much for your help."

"Of course, Janis. I'll take Ariel to my room to make sure she doesn't cause any trouble. Maybe I'll see you around, hopefully not under any life or death circumstances though." Damian grins before walking away, leaving me alone in the kitchen. I can hear him call out to the cat followed by padding of paws as a door closes. I almost feel as if I've hallucinated the whole thing, but the weight of the granola in my bag proves to me otherwise.

I begin to take out a hook and rope while I think of what I'm gonna tell my roommates. Gretchen will flip either way and I don't think Kevin will believe me that I was able to fend off a cat alone, but it's what I have to do if I don't want to move. Besides, deep down I feel like I can trust the teen of the Hubbard household.

Let's just hope my gut isn't wrong.

alt title: how borrower janis got hooked on granola tag list!!! @realmisspolarbear @musicallygt @smallsoysauce @sourishlemons

#you dont need to know jack shit about mean girls to read this one boys #borrower janis #tiny janis #giant damian #g/t mean girls #mg borrower au #g/t #Giant/tiny #giant tiny #g/t writing

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tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors · 5 years ago

Text

Face to Unfamiliar Face

Leith stepped calmly across a gap to the next branch, and he reached out magically to bend the next into his path.

“Berry, calm down.”

“I will not calm down until he stops following us.”

“Is he?”

“He’s up in the trees.”

Leith’s next step disturbed a cluster of leaves, and they fluttered down to land behind the changeling and his imprint. The human looked back at the leaves and glanced up. Leith bent a branch to hide himself from view, pointless as it might be.

“Why’s he following us?”

“If I knew, I could probably get him to stop.”

Leith continued to follow them - he’d encountered them on their way into this forest, and they’d had an argument full of significant looks and double-edged words. Leith had very nearly left them to do whatever it was that they were in the forest to do, but at the last moment, he was overwhelmed with the urge to know. They kept walking for several moments before the pair below him came to an angry stop. The changeling whirled around and snapped his fingers. Leith’s branch suddenly disappeared beneath his feet, and his heart leapt into his throat - then his bottom hit the branch and he skidded down to the forest floor.

“What was that?” He blurted.

“A slide,” the changeling said curtly. “Why are you following us?”

Leith regarded him for several moments. “I was bored.”

The changeling’s eyes narrowed as though searching for another layer of meaning, but eventually his face cleared.

“I suppose that’s an answer to be expected of a Seelie.” Leith scowled and reached with his magic for a root to swipe his feet out from under him with. He actually managed to catch the changeling off-guard, but then a low branch cracked with an unnatural deliberate-ness and came for his head. They exchanged a few rounds of tree-twisting and vine-entwining before the human finally cleared his throat. And just like that, they stopped. Leith found he was no longer annoyed by the changeling’s statement.

“I didn’t think there were many other Green Men at the moment.”

“I thought the same.”

“Call me L.”

The changeling blinked, as though he had never expected an introduction.

“I believe you heard my brother call me Berry already.”

“Guess that makes me Bug.” The human smiled, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“What are you in the forest for?” Leith resisted the urge to cast his glance over the changeling’s eyes and ears. Berry’s lips pursed, but he glanced to his ‘brother’. After he got a slight nod, he turned fully back to Leith.

“Something is…wrong with Wick Hills proper. We were hoping to find answers here…or at least to keep our heads down enough to avoid persecution. Because if the Sanders household has counter-charms, I highly doubt we’ll find anyone whose any better than apathetic to our predicament.”

“So you’re saying you’re lost.”

Berry’s lips pursed. “I did not say that.”

Leith conveyed his disagreement with a look, and Berry scowled.

“We were hoping to find a devil dog we know, as I trust her to have changed the least no matter what may be wrong with Wick Hills.”

“I sincerely doubt your hypothesis, but I feel I should inform you that you’re not going in the right direction for any devil dog.”

Berry’s scowl morphed to a frown as he looked around.

“What was that about not being lost?” Leith almost bit his tongue afterwards - he knew better than to try and be witty, even with another Seelie.

“I know where we are, I just -” Berry cut off the rest of what he’d been about to say.

“Do you?”

“Yes, it’s -”

Before Berry could finish, there was a rustling not far off. The cat that came through the bushes could’ve been any half-house cat, half-feral cat, except that Leith also knew where they were, and he’d seen the cat before. Leith took several steps back as the hunter that belonged with the cat stepped through the bushes. There was silence in the clearing, and Leith could not understand for the life of him why Berry barely reacted to the knife the hunter held loosely before him. Leith didn’t like the way the hunter’s eyes narrowed at all, flicking between Berry and Bug.

“Good afternoon,” Berry said, like he had a death wish.

“Afternoon,” the hunter said, his grip firming on his knife. His eyes kept going from Berry to Bug and back - Leith was fairly certain he’d have bolted if the hunter had attention to spare for him. Just because it was another Green Man didn’t mean he would stay to risk his life standing with the idiot.

“Looks like a party out here,” the hunter said cheerfully, taking a few steps to the side.

“If it were a party, everyone in town would be invited,” Berry quipped.

“Fair enough,” the hunter said wryly, still beginning to circle. After a moment, Leith could track why - the hunter was trying to get a clear line between him and the human. Leith didn’t say a word.

“I know why I’m out here, but why are you out here?” Berry said, his voice level.

“Take a wild guess.”

“Hunting, perhaps?”

“Not going to confirm or deny.” The hunter stopped moving, staring hard at Berry’s imprint.

“Then why invite me to ask?” Berry’s voice was tinted with exasperation.

“Because it’ll make you feel better.” The hunter made a small but somewhat violent ‘come here’ gesture - how did such a moron kill so many of them? He had no subtlety whatsoever. Bug seemed to see it, based on the furrow of his brow.

“It is not making me feel better,” Berry declared. The hunter made a bigger, less subtle gesture. Bug ignored him more blatantly and irritation settled into Berry’s posture.

“Ro, I’m right here, please don’t act like I cannot see you,” he snapped. The hunter shifted his stance, holding his knife more offensively.

“Let him go.”

“Let who go?”

“You know who!”

“Who, Bug?”

“Who’s Bug?” Berry made a frustrated gesture in the direction of his companion before planting his face in his hands.

“This isn’t right!” Berry exploded, monkshood sprouting violently at his feet. Leith stepped further back, knowing what monkshood meant for himself. “The house is full of counter-charms, you know Bug and not me - Virge hasn’t come, even though this whole time I’ve been -” he choked back his words and clutched at a charm on his necklace. “Something could be wrong with Pat, and I wouldn’t even know -”

“Berry!” Bug trod on the Christmas Roses that had been sprouting among the monkshood and clutched at his arms and then drew him into a hug that didn’t look particularly comfortable. Bug kept Berry tightly ensconced in his arms, shifting them so he could look at the hunter and talk to him.

“Look, Berry’s not going to do either of us any harm - I’ve been with him all day. Do you not know Berry?”

“No! Why would I?” The hunter demanded.

“Okay…so do you know Pat?”

“I’m assuming you’re talking about the kid with the siren voice.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, I see him at school and parties.”

“That’s not knowing him.” Bug shook his head, biting his lip. “Why wouldn’t you know Pat? Why would there be so many counter-charms?”

“Why would you be hanging out with one of the Good Neighbors? Your grandma got replaced by a stock!” The hunter snapped. Leith saw Berry frown.

“…He didn’t mention you and your experience with replacement. He said ‘Good Neighbor’, not changeling.” Leith was sure that was mostly for Bug’s ears. Bug drew a hand up and down Berry’s back, frowning himself.

“Ro, can you just take a breath? Something really weird is going on, like Berry said.”

A tense silence fell. Eventually, Berry spoke, this time intending to be heard.

“The Sanders house is covered in counter-charms…Ro doesn’t know Pat…the last Fairy association you have with the Sanders is a stock…Ro either can’t or won’t identify what variety of Fae I am by sight…there is a Green Man our age I don’t recognize from the revels.” Berry eeled out of the hug and stood in the middle of all of them. “This sounds ridiculous, but I think we’ve stumbled into another timeline.”

“What, for real?” Bug asked, gaping at him. Ro looked about ready to stab him regardless of Bug’s opinion of him.

“It’s a bad one.”

“What? How bad?”

“Eirwen raised her son.”

Leith’s face fell in an instant. What was wrong with him? Why did Bug look suddenly horrified? Why was Berry looking at him so seriously?

V: HI ITS VIOLET AND IM GOING TO HAVE A WHOLE HEART ATTACK THIS IS AMAZING!!!

#laoft fic #not mine #i love it #longpost #submission #face to unfamiliar face

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sukitaro · 4 years ago

Text

Unseen Machinations

Nearest the hour of true midnight, Suki silently trekked her way along the main Mists roadway, flanked on her left by a darkened ocean horizon. The rhythmic crashing of gentle waves against shoreline rock faces did it’s part in keeping her footsteps casually slow. In her mind, there were few natural melodies sweeter to her senses. Her eyelids lowered just a tad, only to lift up once again as she had arrived at her destination - her beloved Onsen estate.

She silently opened the main door to the interior izakaya, dutifully removing her boots and leaving them off to the side before making her way for the hallway to lead to the Onsen ‘dorms’. Much had unfolded in the previous few weeks in way of development and drastic alterations to her daily way of life. Even with the looming apprehension of rehearsing for the Onsen’s much beloved seasonal Street Faire, her focus was elsewhere. A fresh environment with the widest array of technological wonders and tools of war a rather superstitious girl could imagine. She favored her beasts - be in domestic or far too massive for a household setting - but spent what free time she was afforded learning of such convoluted mechanical theories and tricks. It was of benefit to learn the basics in any given field. Difficulties inevitable, she was hardly alone in her attempt to understand.

Her assistance came in the form of cat ears, a love for chocobos and an unending zeal for the exciting things in life, be it Blitzball or Magitek inventions.

He was a man known to her for the better portion of a year. Their time spent getting to know one another had been woefully cut short time and time again. Still, time and time again he solidified himself as a stalwart protector. It wasn’t until the conclusion of the return of the accursed Kisaragi that she learned a rather unfortunate truth. He was…

She halted as she neared her room. She settled her gaze upon her front door, opened as wide as the hinges would allow for. The Raen knitted her brows together, casting a wary look over her shoulder down the long pass of the hallway. Having returned from her exploration of the wider Coerthas and Dravanian area that week, she began to wonder if she -had- forgotten to shut her door before embarking. Perhaps.

Inhaling, Suki reached for a hoodie pocket, pulling free a diminutive Kunai blade. She crept for the interior of her room, as low to the ground as she could bend. The Raen stood in the center of her relatively empty abode, feet shoulder width apart. She let the sound of silence hang for the moment before pivoting on a heel, shutting her room door with a gentle ‘click’.

“Took your time, did you?”

A silhouette stood, leaned lazily against the wall to her left with arms folded. Decked out in an impressive show of odd armor, littered with metallic plate and small sections of artificially glowing light with a neon red tint. He was a Midlander of taller-than-average stature, any defining features were masked by black metallic leathers and a masked hood, two slits of gleaming red to allow for adequate sight. He stared off to the opposite side of the small room, seeming generally disinterested in however the Auri would take to his presence.

Suki whipped about, jamming the tip of her wielded Kunai blade towards the unexpected guest. She was hardly equipped for a confrontation. A white hoodie, black jeans and grey faux fur boots were all she had on her person. <”What exactly do you think you’re doing?”> Her tone was sharp, tail swiping at the air in a clear show of aggression. <”Are you lost?”>

The stranger drummed his digits along his biceps. “I dare not speak your savage tongue.” Continuing in Eorzean Common as she spoke in native Hingan. “I was feeling a bit lonely. We are social creatures.” He droned on, pushing himself from the wall and sauntering towards the shoji screen leading to the nightly futon. As he slid it open with a finger, he casted a look over his shoulder. “Never quite understood your deplorable cultural fascinations with everything paper and fragile.”

“I have not the time or willpower to explain to an intruder. Get. Out.” Suki tightened her grip on her Kunai, taking a footstep forth. “You wish for company? Pester one of your own. You reek of Magitek. I am not fooled easily when dealing with your kind.”

“My own?” He mused, slowly pivoting on a heel to face her head-on. Still a yalm in distance from her readied blade. “They are convenient at best, aimless at worse. After all...yours’ is a face I have committed to memory. How long? Two winters?” He regarded the Auri with a canted head, arms at his sides. Cool, confident, and plainly sure she would do no harm. “Torvath had always proven himself little more than a screeching meathead unfit to lead a band of infants, let alone a squadron to call his own.” The stranger fell silent, a transparent and complicated ring of an unknown pattern manifesting before his left eye. Floating and analyzing, as if he had activated something amidst the monologue. “Did you think us gone?”

Knitting her brows, Suki listened with an increasingly puzzled expression. “Ralis quo Torvath? His squadron? I had hoped you lot would have found better ways to go about your day. Regardless, you are of little worry to me. Just another name to be forgotten in a winter’s time!” She charged, Kunai poised for the throat in a stabbing motion.

The Midlander’s recently produced ‘red ring’ sparked in intensity, sending a pressurized pulse to burst from the center point.

The Auri’s Kunai fell to splinter the tatami flooring, hands flying up to grip at her horns as she collapsed to her knees a few yalms away. Her knuckles were white. Tail curled upwards in a sharp display of discomfort. Lowering her forehead to the tatami, veins popped along her throat and forehead, her limbs following suit - even if covered with loose fabric. Feeble attempts to speak were muted, as if she feared an open mouth would subject her interior to the same agony. The pressurized pulse continued to radiate in waves, rattling her teeth.

“What a situation. You wish to discuss ‘better ways to go about my day’?” He approached the downed Raen, standing over her form and leaning down. “Magitek mastery. Allagan enhancements. The knowledge of the VIIth Legion is hardly lost to me.” With his closer proximity, the waves of pressurized pulses savagely spiked in severity.

Suki tore her elongated canines into the tatami flooring, splintering the material as small cracks formed within her horns and sections of her tail. After some time more, a tail spine detached entirely, falling to the tatami in a shattered heap of fragments. Blood welled up from her palms, grip on her horns reaching a critical high. Still, no words came out.

The stranger, after another few moments of maintaining his produced pulse, abruptly cut it off. The ring hovering before his left eye dissipated, sending the Auri onto her stomach in panicked heaves. He watched her silently, pivoting on a heel and heading for the front door. “Perhaps in another scenario, you will remember this day. Choose your battles wisely.”

Suki carefully watched him leave, just in time to see him open up her door. He slowly faded into nothing, and after another moment, all was quiet. Letting her head drop again, she caught her breath. Mind racing.

It was a doomed second encounter waiting to happen.

#ffxiv ffxivrp

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years ago

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⁂ My Way (Xanxus)

Genre: Crack, Romance ☁

Word Count: 1,912 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Xanxus ☁

World: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! ☁

Song: “My Way”, Limp Bizkit ☁

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『Special. You think you’re special. You do, I can see it in your eyes.』

Xanxus was the leader of the Varia, a special assassination squad within the Vongola Family. He was filled with anger and hatred, more so than anyone else. His attitude was that of a king, as if he were better than everyone else in the world, as if he ruled it.

Xanxus was a spoiled brat who usually got everything he wanted handed to him on a golden platter.

Even after the ring conflict with Sawada Tsunayoshi and company, he still whined and cried about how he deserved to be the tenth boss of the Vongola family. Even after the rings had rejected him, he still felt like it was his right. He refused to accept the truth and chose to walk around the Varia Headquarters acting like a two-year-old who just had their candy stolen.

Xanxus felt as if he were special. It was clear that he was no more special than anyone else in the Varia, and yet he refused to accept that he was anything less than perfect. It showed in his eyes every time he looked at his subordinates or anyone else for that matter.

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『I can see it when you laugh at me, Look down on, And walk around on me.』

Xanxus was a man that looked down on his subordinates, the kind of man who could care less whether his allies live or die as long as he gets what he wants. He walks around on them and does whatever he feels like, while they sit back and have to take it.

You knew this fact very well. After the ring conflict ended, Iemitsu sent you to the Varia as an undercover so that you could watch over them to prevent history from repeating itself. Within just a few days, you began to get extremely sick of the boss’ childish attitude. You felt sorry for the silver-haired male who often had things thrown at his head. After all, Squalo was the only one who wasn’t afraid of actually standing up to the man, and he paid for it.

“What do you want now?” you heaved a sigh of annoyance as you stood in front of the black-haired man. He was sat in his big red chair with gold lining, one leg crossed over the other. He was staring down at the red liquid in his glass.

“Make me some food.”

“Go to hell, dumbass.”

The other members of the Varia were pretty sure you had a deathwish.

His red eyes narrowed as he turned his glare on you, swirling the wine in his glass, “What did you just say, trash?”

“Hard of hearing? I knew you were old but damn.” you scoffed.

The man stood up, yelling out a string of curses as you dodged the various household objects he was hurling at you, ducking and running out the door. You had a way of pissing him off more than anyone else in the house.

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『Just one, more fight, about your leadership. And I, will straight up, leave your shit. ‘Cause I’ve had enough of this. And now I’m pissed.』

If it’s one thing that Xanxus always liked to make clear, it’s that he is the leader and no one else. He makes sure to throw that around at least once a day, if not more whenever someone angers him.

Because of his testy temper, Squalo and yourself are usually the only ones dealing with him. How did you get so lucky, you wondered.

“Go and buy me some more wine, trash.” Xanxus ordered, waving his hand at you as if you were some dog that would lick his boots.

“Tch. If you want wine so much, then get it your damn self.” you countered, standing firmly with your arms held behind your back, a sign of respect you had gotten into the habit of showing over the years.

His glare darkened, “I am the boss. You are the subordinate. You do what I say and I am ordering you to go and get me some damn wine!”

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re just a little boy who likes to think he’s in charge.” you muttered, leaving the room before he had a chance to start his ‘throw-countless-objects-at-person-who-pissed-me-off’ tantrum. His hissy fit could be heard all throughout the house. His yelling and cussing, various sized objects being thrown at the door and walls. He really was nothing more than a child.

How had you gotten into this mess?

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『Just one, more fight, about a lot of things. And I, will give up everything. To be, on my own again, free again.』

One would think you were staying at the Varia manor and putting up with Xanxus’ bitching because you had been assigned to do just that. That wasn’t the case, however. Iemitsu had asked you if you wanted the assignment to come and watch over them. Naturally, you agreed, not wanting anything bad to happen to the members of the Varia.

Fuuta had always told you that you were a solid 3 on the ‘soft-hearted’ ranking.

You weren’t sure whether or not Xanxus knew this fact, but if he kept pushing like he was, you would gladly leave just to be free again. It had begun to feel like you were trapped here.

And that’s just how he wanted you to feel.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” Xanxus motioned to the plate of food that you and Lussuria spent all day making for him, a look of disgust etched onto his face.

Lussuria held tightly onto the spoon that was clutched to his chest, looking down at his shoes. He was both disappointed and worried; he didn’t want the short-tempered male to unleash his fury upon him.

“It’s called food, dumbass.” you snorted, resting your hand on Lussuria’s back. He looked up at you with both gratitude and worry; he, along with everyone else, thought you were crazy to challenge their boss.

Xanxus growled, throwing the plate across the room and stalking out, muttering under his breath about ‘useless trash’. You clenched your fists, more than ready to teach that man a lesson. However, you had been clearly instructed by the ninth that you were not allowed to hurt him unless absolutely necessary.

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『Some day you’ll see things my way. ‘Cause you never know, where. You never know where you’re gonna go.』

You’d think that, with so many differing opinions in the house, that Xanxus would at least give one of them a try, but no, only his opinion was right – no one else’s. He was always right, and everyone else was always wrong.

“I said no, damn it!” Xanxus growled, glaring at the group before him.

“Would it really hurt?” Levi asked, quietly. He was afraid to go against the boss, but he really wanted this, as much as everyone else.

“Yes, it would! I can’t stand cats!” he hissed, glaring at the small orange kitten in Bel’s hands.

Hard to imagine, isn’t it? The Varia actually wanting a pet kitten – which Levi and Lussuria had found outside – and actually being able to take care of it without harm. The only problem? His highness doesn’t like cats.

“Aww, come on, boss. I’ll keep him in my room.” Bel grinned, scratching the kitten’s ear as it purred in response.

“Damn it, no! I don’t give a damn what any of you pieces of trash says! That thing is not staying!”

“It’s an animal, not a thing, your dumbassness.” you commented, moving closer to the blonde so that you could scratch under the kitten’s chin.

“I don’t give a damn what it is! The answer is no!” With that, he stormed off, refusing to hear any more.

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『This time I’m going to let it come out. This time I’m going to stand up and shout. I’m gonna do things my way.』

One month later and enough was enough.

“That’s it!” you screamed, glaring at the male before you. “I’ve had enough of your damn attitude, Xanxus!”

He sneered, getting up and grabbing a fistful of your dress shirt in his hand, “What was that, trash?”

“I’m done dealing with your childish attitude, I’m done dodging glasses every time you get pissed, and I’m done with you treating your subordinates as if they were nothing. I’m done with you.” you pushed him away, heading towards the door. You stopped as a glass broke against the hardwood, just a few inches beside your head.

“You can’t leave.” he growled, “The ninth sent you here to watch us. You’re not allowed to leave.” So he did know, at least part of it.

“Oh?” you turned around to stare at the male, a smirk on your lips. “Guess what, your highness? I was asked, not ordered. I can leave whenever the hell I feel like it.” you opened the door and headed down the hall towards your room.

His footsteps echoed behind you, letting you know that he was following close behind. “I’m not allowing you to leave!”

“You can’t order me to do shit!” you made a grab for your bags, which you had previously packed, but failed when he grabbed your arm and slammed you against the wall.

“You belong to me, and I will not let you leave,” he growled dangerously, his grip on your arms tightening.

“Fine, I’ll stay… on one condition,” you smirked.

A scowl found its way to his lips, “What condition?”

“Back off.” You answered, “Stop being such an asshole and let the others speak up.”

He growled, clearly not happy with the condition.

You shrugged, pushing him away and grabbing your bags.

“Fine!” he growled again, finally pushing his pride to the side. “I’ll listen to what they have to say, but I won’t go along with it!”

You smiled, “It’s a start.”

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

『It’s my way. My way or the highway.』

Amazingly, Xanxus did stick to his promise. Minus a few slips and broken glasses aimed at Squalo. The other Varia members were starting to feel more comfortable when voicing their opinions, not having to worry about getting hit with something or shot at. Bel was clearly enjoying the way the boss bit his lip and clenched his fists until his hands turned pure white.

It was killing the Varia’s boss, but he held up to his promise.

“I fucking hate you,” he growled, glaring at you as you walked into his study. He was sat in that same chair with a glass of red wine in his hand.

You smirked in satisfaction, “I love you too, idiot.”

He scowled, standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. “Damn trash,”

“Damn idiot.” you mimicked, smirking as his lips came crashing down against your own. “Oh! And before I forget, Xanxus…”

He raised an eyebrow in silent question.

“Bel and I kept the kitten.”

He blinked, staring at you. “YOU WHAT!?” The sound of yells, laughing and thrown objects echoed throughout the Varia headquarters.

Bel chuckled, playing with the small orange kitten on his bed, “I guess Y/N told him. Ushishishishishi~”

“Do you think it’ll be alright?” Levi asked, dangling a string above the cat.

Bel shrugged, a sadistic smile on his face.

Let’s just say this hissy fit lasted a lot longer than most of his other ones, and anyone who got in the way risked their head.

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elatedmarvel · 5 years ago

Text

Exclusive: Life After the Shield

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summery: An inside exclusive with one Steven Rogers, years in the future.

Word Count: 1385

AN: Hello! Idk where this came from, but it was super fun to write. I hope you all enjoy. Thank you so much for reading. Feedback is always welcome. ~J

Warnings: none

The house is unremarkable, just another two story with a porch wrapped around it. The yard has bikes and mini cars thrown about and other outdoor toys strewn up the stairs to the front door. As this reporter knocks on the door, the sounds of paws clicking becomes more distinct, and a sharp bark is heard behind the heavy wood door. Someone comes to shush the pooch, and when the door opens there stands Captain Steve Rogers in all his glory.

He’s half kneeling, trying to get a good grip on the squirming dog but greets me anyways. “Sorry about him, he’s just excited, I promise he won’t bite.” he laughs as he welcomes me into his home.

It really is a home.

Shoes, both little and big, line the entryway. Family portraits hang in the adjoining hallway, even shots of current and retired Avengers. A withered sepia colored one of a smaller Steve with a man who has Steve’s jawline, and a woman who has Steve’s eyes complete the set. “My parents, it just wouldn’t be right to have a picture wall without them” he says when he catches me taking a closer look.

We walk further into the house and evidence of his children are everywhere. Toys that have yet to be put away in the hallways, their drawings hung on the fridge with pride, and a highchair at the dining room table. We can hear them yelling and laughing in the backyard as we settle into his office for the interview-- Steve having to remove the teddy bear and doll that was on his seat.

At first it’s obvious to just see him as Captain America . But here in the converted farmhouse, it’s easier to see him as a civilian. He’s not quite as angled and sharp as in his avenging days, something he attributes to his family's love of baking together. “My kids and I love to try new recipes,” he tells me later, “honestly I’m just glad I have the serum to keep me in shape.”

His workout routine still impressive though. He tells me he tries to get up and run, and he still lifts weights on a regular basis. Going to the compound to spar with childhood best friend, Sergeant James Barnes on an almost daily basis-- who still kicks his ass like when they were younger.

“It’s getting easier with every kid though” he explains “with the first one I was so cocky that I bought a jogging stroller. Thought I’d be able to take Sarah with me on my runs and let my wife have some down time. I was so wrong, we were basically zombies that first few months. I never even put her in the damn thing.”

Captain Rogers retired from active duty after his firstborn. Still in the Avengers reserve, he trains recruits and strategizes with the new team. “It was time to take a step back.” he reflects. “I’ve been fighting the good fight since the 1920s, I needed to live my own life now, be a present father and husband.” When asked about why he still affiliates with the Avengers he jokes that he couldn’t hand over responsibility completely, “I still have trouble with that, and I needed the money.”

It’s abundantly clear how fond of his children the retired Avenger is. “They are the best things in my life. After I was frozen and came out in this century, I didn’t think I could have that family I always envisioned. I put my head down and did what I knew.”

What changed all this? His wife.

“She’s just everything to me. It’s like we met and everything just clicked into place.” he earnestly replies, “I’m not sure I would be where I am if it wasn’t her.”

Mr. and Mrs. Rogers met in the Avengers Compound where she worked as a doctor. “She’s a spitfire, she never let me leave without examining me after a mission. She figured out I would hide some of my injuries, and she gave me crap for it.” he recounts. “She understood me the best. And she’s just this amazing person, you know she was in the army after med school and knew what it was like to be in combat. We could just talk for hours about anything, and that’s so special to me. The first time I told her I loved her was after she kicked my ass in a sparring session. She doesn’t take shit from anyone. Sorry, language!” he laughs. “Having kids really censored my foul language.”

Turns out, their youngest Sammy, is just starting a phase where she repeats everything, “She gets me in trouble a lot with the wife. Set up a swear jar and everything, and if Sammy says the word then it’s $20 bucks.”

Their children’s cheerful smiles stare back at me from a picture on the desk. Three little cherubs; Sarah, James, and Samantha. “Sarah is definitely in charge” he smirks “she decides what they play and watch. But James is getting to the age where he’s starting to fight back some. He’s learning how much he can push back and get away with. It’s honestly so entertaining. Obviously Sammy is too young to know what’s really going on, but I have a feeling her and Sarah are going to gang up on James when they’re a little older.”

Rogers seemed a little coy when asked about the possibility of adding a fourth child to the mix. “You know, it would be great to even the playing field, give James his own buddy. But Sammy’s still pretty young so we’ll see. We’ve talked about it for sure but no plans right now.”

While there are no plans to add to the Rogers household human wise, they have added many fur babies to their fold since moving upstate. “I never thought I would leave the city, but Tony saw this listing and showed us. We fell in love instantly. It’s got plenty of room and like an acre of land or something crazy like that. It’s a good thing too because my wife keeps finding these animals to take in. You met Dodger earlier, he’s the newest addition.”

Apparently, Dr. Rogers has a knack for finding animals that need a home. “I swear they seek her out and know she’s too soft to turn them away. We’ve got 4 cats, a dog, some chicks that are turning into chickens fast, and even some goats.” Steve swears the goats are just here until Bucky is able to find a suitable home for them, but it’s easy to tell he didn’t even believe himself. “I’ve just got to accept that we have a zoo. I’m sure in a few years we’ll add horses or something. Sarah’s been begging for one, and Uncle Tony doesn’t quite know how to tone down the gifting.” He chuckles.

As we sit and talk about future plans, Dr. Rogers comes knocking with a plate of cookies and a baby on her hip. She has to take the older two to music class and settles baby Sammy on her father’s lap. Instantly his eyes light up as he coos and talks to his youngest, Sammy herself giving us the biggest, gummy smile possible. She takes interest on a cookie and stuffs one in her mouth before anyone can stop her. “I guess there’s no harm in you just chewing on that, it’ll be our little secret baby” Rogers says to his daughter, pushing back some of her unruly hair and pressing kisses to her forehead. The rest of the interview goes by quickly, getting last moment clarifications and questions in-- Sammy chiming in more than once with her opinion. When Captain Rogers leads me to the doorway and bids me a farewell, Dodger tries to acquaint himself again.

With baby on hand and dog circling his feet, it’s easy to see just Steve Rogers. A caring husband, doting father, and overall happy man. One who has found purpose and life beyond the shield. A man right where he belongs.

Edit: Since this interview six months ago, the Rogers’ have announced they have welcomed another little boy, Nathan. Here’s hoping they actually get to use that jogging stroller this time around. Congratulations to the happy family!

Tag:

@captainchrisfics

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mothmansfriend · 5 years ago

Text

when i’m happy oh god i’m happy

TW: alcohol abuse, non-graphic sexual content, unhealthy coping mechanisms, self harm (in many forms), drug use, couchsurfing, mentions of delusions and paranoia, otherwise reckless behaviour

Note: this takes place in @illogicallyinclined’s hockey au and is a Prequel this is supposed to represent what Remus’s manic episodes look like everyone is different, but im using a mix of my own experiences with bipolar i and some friends who were willing to talk about theirs, then changing it to fit Remus’s existing Absolutely Feral personality, Jared and Payton are OC’s and teammates of Remus, the three of them are known for wrecking havoc at all times because none of them possess a braincell.

The art studio was empty, filled only by the assorted music of Remus’s sculpting playlist on the bluetooth speaker he brought in, and Remus himself. His hands glide through the wet clay and he basks in the slimy feeling between his fingers. Remus’s hair is held back by a small headband and he is wearing a tank top and jogging pants already covered in various mediums he has used through the day. He does not know where the energy to finish every project for this semester came from but he isn’t about to object.

If you were to look around this studio, there is a high contrast painting of a tentacle creature that is unsettling in an almost unidentifiable way, half of a self-portrait which uses resin teeth as the main element, as well as his current project of a large cup shaped like a decapitated head. In short, while Remus believes these are his best pieces, the chances of the university permitting them to be displayed are very low.

Remus gets frustrated that the music didn’t seem to be filling his inspiration in the way he hoped he changes the song revealing it to be approximately 4am, and no texts received since he sent D a picture if the teeth pile around 10pm.

—

“Can you go wake Remus up and ask if he wants any breakfast, he really shouldn’t sleep in this late, even if it is Saturday” D asks from the stove while Roman grabs his carton of milk from the fridge and doesn’t bother grabbing a cup.

D grimaces at him as he chugs back the milk, once again thankful that they have separate ones (even if that is at fault of Remus deciding to mix apple juice with milk in the carton without alerting anyone else in the household). “He actually headed out like, real early this morning, I spoke to him when I got up for a shower at like six. He said he’d be back today though?” Roman replied ignoring D’s look.

“Well, that’s even weirder. I’ll make extras so he can eat when he gets back, it's already eleven.”

“Sounds good,” Roman noticing D’s almost done slides a few plates next to him and accepts D’s soft ‘thanks’.

Suddenly they hear someone miss the keyhole three times before getting it and entering. Unsurprisingly, it’s Remus inappropriately dressed for a casual outing, surprisingly he seems to be holding several bags full of merchandise. “Helloo roommates! Look what I bought!” Remus shouts, slamming the door with his foot and bringing his bags to the couch.

“Are those... cups?” D asks turning off the stovetop to curiously check out Remus’s merch load.

“Hell yeah they are! I figured since you-” He pokes at D, “Took away all our glass cups after me and Roman went to that last party, I would take it upon myself to replace them. Look!” Remus proudly pulls the ugliest Jar Jar Binks cup out of one of the bags.

Roman visibly recoils as his brother parades the worst cup he’s ever seen around their apartment. D rolls his eyes but collects the cup and hesitantly places it into the dishwasher. “Thank you, Remus, these cups are horrid but they’re functional, which, I guess is good enough. Though, how much did these cost?”

“No idea, probably around sixty bucks total though, maybe. I went to three different thrift stores. Look at this one!” Remus holds up a vaguely terrifying cup that seems like it may have once resembled Spongebob Squarepants to Roman.

“That’s… Great, Remus, thanks” Roman says taking the offered item.

—

The three make it to practice 20 minutes early because Roman likes to prove he’s dedicated and a good captain. Coach Thomas and Joan greet them and Thomas talks to Roman briefly as Joan finishes setting things up. D and Remus do some stretches as others begin to show up, D comments on Remus being shaky and Remus hops around quickly explaining that he just woke up with a lot of energy for some reason.

Coach Thomas reminds Remus to take his time during practices speeding through everything doesn’t work if he keeps messing up before he even makes it halfway through.

—

D is going to kill Remus tomorrow morning. The repetitive sound of the bedframe slamming against their shared wall, and Remus wailing like a cat in heat at 1am is not something he wants to deal with right now. It’s a Tuesday night and D knows Remus has a class at 11am, one that D will not let him skip because he decided getting laid was more important. How does Remus even get a man to willingly enter that nightmare of a room? D rummages through his bedside table for ear plugs and regrets giving Roman the far room so easily.

—

“Jesus- Hello? Do you know what time it is?” The tired voice answers the phone after the third time of going to voicemail.

“Of course I don’t, Jared, I’m not a fucking nerd! I just thought I might extend my offer of filling the fountain in the middle of campus with bubble bath and a swim to you and Payton! D already said if I woke him up he would cut my dick off and feed it to his snake,” Remus audibly pouted at the end of his sentence.

Despite it being three am, it didn’t take a lot for Jared to wake up Payton and agree to meet him just off campus to run to the 24/7 convenience store for soap for the fountain. Remus leads the group in talking a mile a minute about something that Jared and Payton actually missed out on entirely. They try to contribute but realize Remus doesn’t notice when they have their own conversation anyways. They listen to him vaguely flit through topic after topic and get lost and confused in his own sentences, and once the soap is collected, they head to the large fountain in the middle of campus.

The fifth bottle of soap has been discarded and the fountain is sufficiently bubbly by the time the three hockey players strip to their boxers and begin their bath. There are attempted drownings, bubble beards, and the fountain change being thrown around.

At some point Remus stops talking for a second, observing the lithium bulbs through the fountain streams and bubbles floating across the courtyard. For a moment, he thinks he’s never been this happy in his life, these last few days have been the best days of his life. He lets Jared and Payton know this and like stare at him for a moment before teasing him about going soft and a few “I love you, bro” “Dude, you mean so much to me” and such were exchanged. They leave moments before campus security’s due to do their rounds in the early morning and laugh when about an hour later they receive a campus-wide notification to avoid the courtyard for repairs.

—

Remus spends most of practice being more annoying than usual. He gets a bit more of a stern talking to than he has in a while, in response says that he’ll try to do better to prepare for the game this weekend.

—

He did not succeed and got an even sterner talking to by Coach Thomas and Joan, and then by Roman separately.

—

Remus has a brief moment of clarity regarding his spending habits from the last week and a half in the middle of his current project. His solution is instead of buying the club size container of hot sauce, he makes a trip to the Taco Bell off campus. After dropping off the rest of his goods at the apartment, it was pretty late in the evening and he was dressed in nothing but neon green basketball shorts, slides, and a pretty badly stained grey tank top. Thankfully, Florida weather permitted this, though the looks he had been receiving all day disagreed. It likely did not help that if prompted, Remus wasn’t 100% on the last time that he slept, but if he had to guess it was two or three days ago, but that was probably a maximum of five hours. Surprisingly, he had never felt so good in his life. He’s also pretty sure he’s said that a lot this week.

He leaves Taco Bell with a small meal bag full of hot sauce at no cost.

—

D doesn’t ask any questions when he uses the bathroom in the early morning and is met with the sight of Remus in the bathtub. He is covered in a large variety of substances. The floor is covered in Taco Bell hot sauce wrappers, there’s a box full of water balloons of various colours and sizes. Remus waves with his available hand before he resumes filling the current water balloon with what may be a bulk container of banana lube. D pisses, not bothering to ask Remus to leave and just pulls the shower curtain over a little before washing his hands and deciding to figure it out tomorrow.

The next day, D woke up around 10am to a few texts saying some prick is throwing weird water balloons at first years off this academic building on campus. D didn’t think much about it until he was leaving his 12:30 lecture walking past splatters of mayo, egg, egg shells, hot sauce, and more, all separately. While observing the damage he found Remus asleep on some grass outside said academic building and had to call Logan for help to get him home. The two are used to this by now and D reminds himself to tell Remus to clear his ‘great ideas’ with someone containing a braincell.

—

Remus spends a good majority of his day listening to one song in the living room of the shared apartment. He was there when D left for classes, he was there when Roman left a little later in the day, failing to go to his own classes at all that day. The second D returns for lunch Remus is trying to explain a hidden meaning in the song, D brushes it off and reminds Remus, that to pass his classes he has to at least go.

—

This is Remus’s third night out in an area of town he really doesn’t know. He went home yesterday for early practice before coming back out. He knows it didn’t go well.

In attempts to make himself feel better, he blew a guy who’s name he already forgot but was hot as hell, he lost count of the shots he’s done, but at least there’s no practice tomorrow. He doesn’t have to worry about when he goes home, doesn’t have to worry about Roman or D and their weird concerned looks. He’s doing great! Why are they concerned, they just don’t get it.

At 2 am everyone gets kicked out of the club. Remus walks six blocks with his new friends with the promise of couch space to crash on and additional alcohol.

It’s suddenly 4:47 am and Remus is the only one awake and all the booze is gone. He is sitting under lithium streetlights smoking a cigarette on the porch of a strangers house with the humid Florida wind enables him to sit comfortably without a jacket. There is a moment, with sirens in the distance that Remus lets his eyes go out of focus. For the first time in who knows how long, he feels present. There is cracked cement under his feet, a dog barking a few houses down, and he wonders why he’s even here. The hidden Prince twin, here, in a city he has only been to once for a tournament, in a stranger’s house, drunk off his ass, his phone dead. He takes time to wonder, is this fun to him? It has to be right? Why did he just leave without telling anyone? Spending nights on the streets, or finding someone to go home with just so he didn’t have to find somewhere else to sleep. Is this who he is now?

He doesn’t know if he can answer that. Remus shakes himself before putting out his cigarette on his arm and deciding it doesn’t matter.

He still doesn’t sleep that night, but plugs in his phone and decides he needs to go home soon.

—

This is a different club than the previous night, someone sold Remus a few pills earlier and he figured why not? He feels better than ever. He lets the man he’s making out with know that and he lets out a kind of raspy laugh that Remus thinks is the hottest thing. He lets the other man know that too before sticking his tongue down his throat.

—

Remus is in the park yelling. It is almost 6pm, he pauses for a moment, completely forgetting what he was yelling about. He realizes that he is pretty drunk. Remus would normally like to say he only drinks with an excuse, but he doesn’t remember why he’s drunk, or how he got to the park. This isn’t near campus, he doesn’t recognize this park at all. He just stops yelling and googles the next bus to take him home.

—

Upon arriving home and greeting D, Remus falls asleep in his room for almost 12 hours to make up for the missing sleep from the last four days. When he is woken up for food and offered tylenol for his hangover, he tries to tell them he doesn’t have one. They don’t believe him, but he takes the food. Remus makes a joke recalling how the other day all he had eaten was some stale croutons he found in a pantry and half a bottle of Fireball he found in the fridge nearby. The joke did not land, but he was too busy laughing about it to notice.

The three eat their Sunday lunch with small amounts of banter and D switching between who he agrees with based on who’s statement didn’t sound like it came from a six year old. As they clean up, Remus starts excitedly talking about something that’s topic changed around four times in one sentence. Roman feigns interest but got lost and doesn’t care enough; D listens and has to ask Remus to repeat things slower every few minutes.

—

Several times throughout the night, D hears Remus loudly leave his room to check the front door. In the early morning D doesn’t hear Remus return to his room, but faintly hears netflix turn on in the living room.

In the morning, Remus seems wary of the door but does not say anything.

—

One day while messing around in the kitchen Remus is struck with the need to just go. The urge is so strong that the more he stands still in the kitchen the more his body just begins to tremble with barely contained energy. He doesn’t quite know where he’s going yet, but as he grabs his wallet, double checking he has his bus pass and ID, a jacket, his phone, and his keys. Without telling anyone, he walks to the main exchange near campus where he hops on the first bus that arrives. The bus isn’t particularly busy, and it makes it easier for him as he settles into the back of the bus bopping to his music, but not having the focus to listen to a song all the way through. He hits his hands softly on the very 90’s looking patterned seats to the beat of the song, watching out the windows with both legs bouncing. He rides this bus to the end of the line and catches the next bus to arrive at that bus exchange that takes him into a new smaller city. The sun is beginning to set and he finds a pub to grab some food and a few drinks at.

An hour and a half and four drinks later Remus is fighting some asshole in the pub and they both get kicked out. He wanders these smaller streets buzzed and poking at forming bruises while he smokes a cigarette. He walks by a convenience store and two homeless men outside ask him for a cigarette, he shares and spends a solid amount of time socializing with them and gets some booze for his troubles. They eventually part ways when one of them come out from the bathroom with a pack of stolen cookies. The store attendant chases them away and Remus finds himself wandering down empty streets again. Eventually, Remus decides to sleep for a few hours curled up in a stairwell, he doesn’t quite sleep, but does relax. Again, in the sounds of small city life, yellowed flickering light bulbs, and humid wind, Remus wonders why he’s out here.

—

The flashing neon lights and bass heavy music resonate through Remus’s bones like electricity giving him a never ending feedback loop of energy. Just before the club closes Remus sweet-talks a kind of nerdy looking guy into taking him home, while he’s mostly just hoping to not sleep outside tonight, getting laid wont hurt either.

—

Sneaking out of someone’s house before they wake up isn’t something Remus is necessarily proud of, but he doesn’t want to risk them doing something cheesy like make him breakfast. Sorry sir, Remus is a Manic Pixie Nightmare Boy, do not catch feelings, do not use for your own character development. He laughs to himself a little walking down the morning rush streets.

—

After waking up in bed with a man he doesn’t remember meeting the night before is a little jarring, but this is not the first time. It makes him wonder briefly if something is wrong with him. Remus is tired. Exhausted with himself and getting a little tired of this much fun. Instead of finding a diner for breakfast he catches a bus home and asks Logan if they can hang out tomorrow. If anyone will force him to go home, go to practice, sleep and not give him a choice to study or not without expecting him to explain himself. It will be everyone’s favourite Large Nerd. Remus doesn’t know what’s happening or why he feels like this, but he needs to go home and stop this for a little bit.Virgil, D, and Logan will help him get things a little back on track.

#sanders sides #remus sanders #hockey au #bipolar disorder #university au #roman sanders #deceit sanders #remus prince #roman prince #d foster

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