#raine basically never swears around the kids but get them into a room alone with darius and theyre immediately like

[crimeronan]

this post is old but still good. i know we have canon lore now that hunter was sheltered from the other scouts growing up BUT he and steve Do have a canon rapport and went through Some Shit together. so may i posit:

1) almost all of the slang hunter knows is ten years out of date and comes Directly from steve, and

2) hunter and mattholomule swear in Exactly The Same Way. very verbosely.

the fondest specific compliment i’ve gotten on my toh fic is that everyone swears in a way that’s very true to character. where it feels like they Definitely talk like this offscreen, like it flows naturally & isn’t jarring despite the G-rated source material

this delights me because i have spent SO MUCH time thinking about the owl house cast and how different people swear. limiting this post to POVs i’ve written but here’s a few headcanons

luz: almost never swears. if she does she’s either doing it for Maximum Emphasis or because it’s very funny in a very specific situation with very specific peers (hunter & willow. she can’t swear in front of amity or gus bc she feels like she’s tarnishing her Innocent Image). even when luz CAN say “fuck” in T-rated properties, she does in fact default to “jeez” and “crikey” and “wow” and “EAUGHHH NO OH NO EUGH NO” at all times. some people swear in their other main language around english speakers but luz is not one of these people. generally in situations where most reasonable individuals would yell “HEY ASSHOLE” or “DUDE??? WHAT THE FUCK????”…… she simply throws things and/or starts biting. That’s My Daughter

hunter: swears more than luz but still not Super Often. most common go-tos are ‘shit’ as a panicked exclamation & ‘bullshit’ as an unimpressed observation. he knows more curse words than anyone else in the show including eda because of How The Coven Scouts Are. several of the curse words are wholly made-up epithets shared by approximately ten trauma-bonded weirdo soldiers. that said, he…. legitimately does not know which muttered oaths are just weird idioms versus Actual Swears bc he’s never Needed to know. (formal speak with belos automatically removes all of these informal interjections in the first place, and no one else is gonna question how The Golden Guard talks, so…. no reason to learn.) if anyone tries to explain these nuances to him later in life he will get into an autistic shouting match about how that’s SO STUPID and UNNECESSARY and MAKES NO SENSE you DUMBSHIT MOTHERF-

eda: tries hard to tone down her language around The Chillens but swears… sssSSSO MUCH. sailor tongue ahoy the woman was raised by wolves (ie: her mom who even in her old age will still shout “YEAH RUN YOU PUNK-ASS BITCH” at randos on the street). eda says “fuck” aloud an average of once or twice in any given fic chapter but should say it more. if i ever write her alone with raine it will become 200 times per chapter because with raine she casually flips back to her high school self and all her creative teen lingos. yknow, back before she learned to be all Mature and Professional. a class act. as she rifles through heaps of garbage and develops hives at any sign of emotional intimacy

darius: theoretically swears a lot and has nothing AGAINST a very verbose “motherfucker son of a bitch dick-for-brains are you fucking SHITTING me you INCOMPETENT-” however he USUALLY uses boiling isles swears. not because he’s being censored by the writers but because a muttered “mother of titans i’m begging you to come down and cast these fucking imbeciles into the boiling sea before i lose my fuckdamned SHI-” is just. Yeah. That’s Him. darius is the guy who WOULD be saying ‘jesus h christ’ and ‘christ on a stick shift’ and ‘mother mary of god PLEASE either end this meeting early or STRIKE ME DEAD BEFORE MASS’ except. yknow, he’s got other religious figures to invoke. sidenote he’s been dying to shout “KIIIIISS MYYYY ASSSSSS” at 98% of his coworkers for 30 straight years. to the point that he sometimes dreams about it

bonus

camila: swears exclusively in french (a language in which she is not fluent) bc she doesnt want luz picking up bad language. she learned these expressions from an old friend from montreal which means that luz now has a weirdly broad knowledge of extremely rude quebecois slang without knowing any specific definitions. she just knows that these are words you recite to french-canadians if you want to start a bar fight.

[kreativewritin444]

put in place / t.s

you were just finishing up your shift at the pub, henry letting you off earlier than usual. you were exhausted and grateful, ready to go home and enjoy some time alone.

you have been so caught up with everything going on in the shelby’s life; you barely had time for yourself. ada was your bestfriend growing up, so you were basically family to everyone. closest to johns age though, leading them two to become your closest mates.

arthur was very much an older brother, polly basically your mother. well atleast the one you wish you had, and as for thomas. you two were closer before he went off to war; once he came home it was different.

you glanced in the private room, not seeing a single shelby insight. you told harry goodbye, stepping out onto the pavement. the moon and streetlights lit up the dark streets.

usually you never walked home alone, one of the boys insisting to walk you. but neither of that happened, so you headed down the empty street. your coat pulled tightly to your chilled body.

your footsteps was the only thing you could hear, until soft rain sprinkled across small health. you grit your teeth, muttering things to yourself as you try to get home.

you rounded the corner, until you felt hands pull your figure into the deep allyways. you go to scream, but the person grabbed your throat, slamming you back into the wall hard.

you groan, your eyes looking up into the irish inspectors eyes. “oi, you bloody kidding me?” you wince from the roughness he held you with.

he glares down at you, “i see why they protect you so much, pretty lil’ gal.” his hands still around your throat, body pressed against yours. you gather your spit, landing it all on his face.

he flinches, before back handing you. the metallic taste filled your mouth, as your try to hold your face. “hit like a fuckin’ bitch too, i see. does this get you off mr.campbell? hitting younger women?” you bite at him.

you knew what he was messing with your for, he wants to know where tommy keeps the guns hidden, you aren’t stupid. you were scared, but you couldn’t let him know that.

his anger rises again, this time his fist lands on the same spot. you tumbled over, almost falling onto the wet pavement. you start to laugh through the pain, but his hands pull your hair back. a gun cocks against your head.

“i am not playing fuckin’ games!” his voice echoed in your ear. fear finally rises in you, stillness fills your body.

“i can’t tell you.” you confess. “surprised you didn’t ask your precious grace.” you shot out, making him halt a bit. you weren’t stupid. you knew about grace.

“but yet somehow you still seem important. now you can either give them up, or i can leave you here for mr.shelby to find.”

“which one?” he caught on to your little act. shoving you back against the wall, a dull ache arises in your head. his hand grips your cheeks.

“stop lyin’ to me, women.”

the gun barrel dug into your forehead, “im not. i swear. i really don’t know.” you softly say this time. he glares into your eyes, the fury very evident.

“fuckin’ useless, is what you are. no wonder your their whore.” and with that statement, he rams the bottom of the gun against your forehead. leaving your knees to buckle, landing onto the cold wet ground.

you held yourself, softly crying. maybe from the pain, the shock, the comments. no telling at this point, but you knew you couldn’t stay here all night. you lift yourself up, noticing your knife was a few feet away.

you struggled against the wall, head throbbing. you knew you couldn’t make it home. yet, you don’t wanna go to the shelby’s yet it seems you have choice.

stumbling out and onto the road, after a long few blocks the house came into view. you opened the door, not even bothering to knock. at this hour most of them probably would be asleep anyway, or that’s your wish.

the kitchen light was on, you softly cursed to yourself. “your back ear-” tommy’s voice cut out at the sight of you. you stood there soaking, bleeding, and bruised.

“i-uh...” you had no clue on how to explain yourself, mind all over the place. thomas quickly rushed forward, his arms pulling your coat off. “let’s get you dry, aye?”

after allowing you to change into some of ada’s clothes, you were seated at the table. tommy held a rag, along with a glass of whiskey. he was filled with multiple emotions nothing he was able to decipher, beside the rage he felt,

“who did this, y/n?” he softly dabbed your cheek. you didn’t answer just took the whiskey off the table, throwing it back.

“well i guess it’s a good thing, im loyal thomas.” you spat bitterly. “get dragged into the bloody ally way, by the one and only, mr.campbell. all to ask me where the fuckin’ guns are thomas.”

he stopped his movements, sitting back in the chair. you took a cigerette out of his pack, lighting it up. anger began to fill you, the whole thing getting to you.

“the fuckin’ guns thomas! the guns! you put me in a position of whether i die, or spill your fucking secret!” you blew up.

“i didn’t know he was gonna fucking come after you!” thomas defended, making you laugh. “well since he thinks im the useless fucking whore, i dont know either.”

you stood up, letting the chair slide back dramatically. you turn to walk out not even bothering with any of this. your head ached even worse with the yelling, along with every punch you took.

“he will never fucking touch you again, y/n. i can promise that.” you didn’t even turn back to face him. “well he already did, thomas.”

he pulls you back, making your hand sting against his cheek. “i cared about you, i lied for you, i helped you. i almost died protecting your secret, the one you told the fucking barmaid. who if you would pay attention too, is a god damn spy.”

his eyes bore into yours, soft tears fell down your cheeks. “im sorry, im so fuckin’ sorry.”

he pulled you in, sobs shaking through you. “i was so scared, tommy.”

he rubbed your back, allowing you to dive deeper in his presence, “i am telling you right now, you are not some useless whore. you are part of this family, and i will never let someone touch you again.”

you tried ignoring his words, but he pulled your face up gently. “do you understand? no one.”

you were calming down, just silently nodding to his words. “i know you’ll try your best, but we are the peaky blinders. danger awaits everywhere.” you confessed.

“we?” he smiles softly.

“yes we, but no more secrets... and i want a gun.” your eyes still locked with his. “a gun?”

“yes, since im being fuckin’ followed. i want a gun.”

“what you want is what you shall receive, until then let me finish cleaning your cut.” he states. your smile fades a bit.

“you love her dont you.” you lean out of his touch. his hands catching you, pulling you back.

“no. i dont love her.” he clarified. you nod, getting back up to let him finish cleaning your cuts.

he stood up, his height making him stare down at you. his hand reaches under your chin, carefully he places his lips onto yours.

“i care about you, before the war and now. i will not let anyone touch you, y/n. i-i love you.”

you kissed him back, careful of your busted lip. “i know you aren’t tommy before the war. yet, i still love you no matter what. i really do.”

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

another helping of living w/ bakugou thoughts:

pls i am so sorry, i feel like i bombard y’all with these constantly, but u don’t understand, he literally lives in my brain full time

- if you’re rolling your sleeves up, to wash your hands before dinner, he’ll whack your hands away and do it himself. very much “you’re takin’ too long, idiot. i wanna eat already. let me do it.”,, don’t be fooled tho, you could do it in 2.5 seconds and he’d still open his mouth. bc it has absolutely nothing to do with u and everything to do with him wanting to be close to you

-ik he watches the mha equivalent of the history channel. i just know it. dude is a grandpa at heart, n im so confident he would 100% sit down and watch a 3 hr docu on like, old weaponry or some nerdy shit

-bakugou is annoyingly arrogant, but only about things that don’t matter. like, he’ll fully sit in front of you and tell you he’s stronger/faster/smarter in passing conversation,, but when he does actually impressive shit??? the man clams up. absolutely clams up the second you praise him, trying to brush off whatever ridiculous feat he just pulled to protect u with a “It’s not that big a deal, shut up about it already, dumbass.” 

- pls mans is an absolute simp. u ask him to do something and he’s on his feet in a second. ofc he’s complaining but he’s also then following that up by doing things you didn’t even ask him to do. fan behavior honestly.

-when you’ve had a bad day, he’ll make u food and throw blankets in the dryer for u. don’t expect much verbal comforting from him, bc obviously, but he’s pretty good with actions. you always feel a little warmer after he’s wrapped you in a blanket n fed you something ungodly spicy

- i have absolutely no basis for this but ik he secretly watches kids movies. like, if it’s animated then he’s there. ofc no one is allowed to find out about this ‘embarrassing’ behavior tho, except maybe you. maybe. if you accidentally happen to see it bc he’d never tell u himself.

- he’s a beast to wake up in the morning, but he’s a lot more easy to convince if u pet his hair. or rub his back/shoulders. maybe even kiss his neck. look, u cannot tell me that he doesn’t want to be absolutely coddled in the morning- especially when he can get away with it so easily. 

-bakugou always pulls ur legs into his lap if u sit down next to him. pls he’s so weird, he’ll just like, tap his fingers on ur calves absentmindedly while he’s watching tv

-he probably created a playlist of songs ur ‘allowed’ to play around him. meaning, it’s only the songs on ur phone that he likes 🙄

-bakugou always takes his work phone calls outside. like if his phone rings he’ll just stand up n walk tf out the door to take it. even if it’s cold. u ask him once about it n he just “Work stays at work. This is my fuckin’ home. Now shut up about it already.”

-you’ve never once seen this man wearing socks around the house. don’t ask me, i cannot explain this whatsoever, but i just kno this man walks around constantly barefoot 🤢🤮 unfortunately.

-he’s like, the most functional person ever in almost every aspect, but the stuff katsuki is bad at?? pls he is hopelessly bad. like, lets say art stuff. omg he just doesnt have the patience for it, okay, so say goodbye to any dreams of cute lil couple’s crafts. like, he’ll sit there while u do yours, but his will look like utter shit

- during the week, katsuki is either at work, training, or at home. pls, he works so hard during the day that i highly doubt he’s anything but an absolute homebody during the work week.

- bakugou gets pissy if u re-arrange any of the furniture on a whim. pls he likes comfort and familiarity n if he stubs his toe on the stupid coffee table one more fucking time, he’s going to scream

-its a rare occurance,, especially bc of the crazy hours he works,, but bakugou rlly likes making dinner for u to come home to. he just likes to feel like he’s taking care of u tbh

-he still goes to bed at like 8:30. or thats what u think, but rlly he just goes to sit in your room and have some time to himself for a bit. as much as he loves u, he prob still needs some alone time to recharge

-bakugou takes meticulous care of any plants u have in the house. like he’ll water them on a strict-ass schedule, n preen them when necessary. pls the way he’ll curse them out if they even dare to wilt under his care?? very much “What the hell, you bitch? ‘m doin’ everything fuckin’ perfect! Grow already!”

-katsuki is such a little bitch when he’s sick. he’ll be running like a 103 temp, brain literally melting, and still trying to get up and work out. the only way u can get him to chill the hell out is if u take a nap with him. ofc that means u always get sick too,, but hey- lil sacrifices right??

-he never lets you get the door. like, if there’s a knock n neither of u knows who it could be,, pls he’s on his feet so fast. waving u away n looking thru the keyhole w/ sm suspicion

-he has his spot on the couch, n u will not find him sitting anywhere else. like, that’s his spot. u better pray for anybody who mistakenly takes it

-bakugou doesn’t like dirt or grime, so he won’t allow you or himself, to sit on your bed with clothes that have been outside. like, even if you’re just sitting on top of the covers, he’s gonna throw a fit and demand you change your clothes first bc “No way in hell am I gonna let your dumbass dirty up my bed.”

-katsuki rlly likes when it storms outside. he’ll go sit in front of the window and watch the rain, sipping on a warm drink while he waits for more thunder. 

-living with bakugou is incredibly frustrating, bc he’ll just show up with new skills all of the goddamn time. like you’ll be like, “hmm i’d love to remodel the bathroom someday”,, and the very next weekend bakugou is meticulously re-tiling the bathroom floor by hand, probably also painting the walls in a new color, maybe even installing a new sink just to spruce it up. n then he’ll just present the entirely new, upgraded room with such weird nonchalance that it pisses u off. pls and if you watch him while he does these little projects, with all the weird precision and skill he suddenly gains?? pls you’re sure he must be possessed by the ghost of a craftsman

- when he hangs out with the bakusquad, he’ll drag you along every time. he expects you to sit with him the entire time and act as a social buffer?? basically, someone’ll ask him a question, one he deems stupid and therefore not worth answering, and bakugou will just look at you expectantly. he’ll just stare at you blankly, hardly even blinking until you pick up the slack and answer for him. you call him out on this many times, but it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t change anything. he does this over and over and over again

-bakugou gets really unsettled when you guys fight. like, he can’t sleep and he’s snapping at everybody, and is somehow more aggressive than usual. he always wants to just make up already, but the pride in the way won’t allow it

-he’s a weird stickler about intended furniture functionality?? like, the table is for eating, and the couch is for watching tv, and then only way you’re gonna get him to mix the two is if you ask him rlly rlly nicely

-finally- i have no basis for this one, but ik it in my heart: bakugou has a very intense fight with your thermostat nearly every single day. he swears up and down that it never ‘behaves’ for him, but every time you check it, it’s working perfectly fine

--/-- 

ahahhaa sorry y’all for the super random spam today,, but here were are back to our regularly scheduled bakugou programming,,,, bc idk if it’s obvious ur honor, but i love him

[sonybees]

random harry potter characters headcanons because i am bored

includes: fred, george, harry, ron, hermione, ginny, luna, seamus, dean, neville, padma, parvati, cedric, angelina, alicia, katie, cho, draco, adrian, blaise, and pansy.

warnings: slight modern!au, swearing, food mention

these are all headcanons i made on the spot so i’m sorry if they suck. i’m just really bored. it is also all over the place. a lot of these are collabs between some characters. i hope you enjoy though!

(by the way, the little dashes are just dividers)

rest under the cut!

fred would dance around his room at 3 am to literally any song.

jazz, classical, rock, metal, pop he does not give a fuck.

he woke up george once by jumping on his bed and playing all star on his electric guitar.

probably a song writer

uses “life is short” as an excuse to act on his bad decisions

dancing in the rain is one of his favorite things to do

sleeps at 3 am or pm, you decide.

hopeless romantic

good old fashioned lover boy by queen is his song

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

-

george loves birds and bugs. completely unrelated to the last one but it’s true.

saw an injured bird outside his room when he was 5.

he cried and immediately took it in.

also cries when someone kills a bug.

thinks the bug’s family would be angry and disappointed in him.

enjoys painting random objects in his room

loves being called pet names

something like dear, honey, or hubby would make his heart burst

loves using them for his significant other as well

hopeless romantic part 2

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

-

harry is a night owl and he likes reading comic books.

he likes listening to rock music. i said what i said.

prefers being alone

likes quiet places and probably has a hideout

usually doesn’t understand poetry until he reads it like 20 times

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

-

ron adores ducks.

tears up when he sees them and always used to beg molly to keep them.

still tears up to this day.

not a big fan of seagulls though

he’s scared of them

but eagles are cool

likes country and rock music

also takes an interest in photography

the breakfast club is his favorite movie

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

-

hermione loves listening to taylor swift.

reads to her songs always.

ravenclaws save her a special seat in their common room because a lot of them grew quite fond of her

a taste tester for hufflepuffs who go to katie’s lessons you’ll understand this later

she actually enjoys dressing up as well even if there wasn’t an event

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

-

ginny accompanies dean while he draws.

she just likes looking at other people do what they love so it’s not only dean.

she sometimes zones out looking at hermione read a book, always taking note of the facial expressions and guessing what she just read,

catching harry push his glasses up or cleaning them,

also is with luna every time she paints.

luna has a few artworks with ginny as her muse.

gin likes the simple things in life.

loves board games

sometimes a little too competitive

struts down the hallways with her significant other

she’d never admit it but she loves 10 things i hate about you

has a soft spot for slytherins

-

luna almost always goes with neville to the gardens.

she helps him with whatever he needs and sometimes draws a few stuff.

she’s a photographer too so she loves waking up early in the morning and taking photos.

amazing at braiding hair

and making flower crowns

likes reading royal fantasy books

watches 10 things i hate about you with ginny

has a soft spot for slytherins

-

seamus also hangs out with luna sometimes,

talking to each other about whatever.

he thinks she’s interesting and would make great conversations.

she does.

he also took some painting lessons from her

meditates

loves pumpkin juice

likes the movie my girl

has cried more than he will ever admit

has a soft spot for slytherins

-

dean has a wall in the boys dorm room where he puts up all his drawings.

the guys love it and always just stares at all of them in awe.

they’re all so amazing

is usually the first to notice when someone is sick

takes care of them immediately

loves sweaters

knows how to speak in latin

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

-

neville goes to hagrid way more often than anyone thought.

he learned how to take care of the creatures, make some awesome tea,

he also sometimes helps hagrid clean his own house.

helps others in herbology

likes green tea

loves overalls

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

-

padma holds a record of the fastest writer at hogwarts

yeah, she’s amazing at it

ended up publishing her own fantasy book starting at hogwarts

sold out faster than expected

she is also a singer

amazing singer

movie marathons are her thing

prefers crime shows/movies

soft spot for gryffindors

-

parvati is very very very protective over her sister

does archery and is amazing at it

a very chill person until you mess with her loved ones

loves sixteen candles

adores puppies

watches big bang theory

soft spot for slytherins

-

cedric plays the piano.

the ravenclaw common room is where the only piano is at hogwarts so he goes there quite often.

everyone loves hearing him play.

other students gather around with their instruments and sing along as well.

wears glasses for reading

netflix type of guy

probably a theatre kid

has a soft spot for gryffindors

-

angelina also took piano lessons from cedric.

she just asked him one day where he learned it and he said his father taught him and he could tell that she wanted to learn.

so, he offered to teach her.

she was a natural at it and the lessons are always fun, even for the ravenclaws

angelina is also a tutor at hogwarts.

it all started with george and fred and she realized that she actually quite enjoyed it.

all her students love her

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

-

alicia is always the group leader in every group work she’s ever done.

she’s also usually the main organizer for any event at hogwarts.

she’s usually there with the help of angelina and katie.

they all work very well together

has a soft spot for slytherins

-

katie has a passion for cooking.

she’s friends with a lot of hufflepuffs and she meets a lot of them by the kitchens.

in there, they watch her cook amazing dishes and baked goods.

she was able to teach a few others how to as well.

the house elves love her.

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

-

cho has an interest in fashion designing.

mcgonagall found her making a dress once in an empty hallway with some cool music playing.

minnie was amazed.

she was also able to start a fashion club at hogwarts.

luna, katie, dean and a few other were apart of this club as well.

likes pudding as much as luna does

has a soft spot for gryffindors

-

draco plays the violin.

pretty unexpected to his friends because he never really told anyone til goyle walked in on him playing in his dorm room.

he is actually very good at it.

combs his hair too often

the type to take too long at the water fountain

finishes his water bottle after like less than two hours of getting it

acts ‘ominous’ to the point where it’s funny

soft spot? for ravenclaws

-

adrian teaches young students how to play quidditch

his favorite color’s green for nature

actually loves reading and writing poetry

“most respectful”

has a soft spot for gryffindors

-

blaise seems very intimidating but is actually very sweet

shouts at quidditch games (much to everyones surprise)

loves the rain

likes dark academia movies

it’s basically his whole aesthetic

holds a record for most botts beans that fit in the mouth (without puking)

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

-

pansy has a whole drawer of jewelry as she should honestly

actually soft for cats but it’s not like she’ll ever tell anyone

loves playing with other’s hair

massages her friend’s backs

they do the same for her

a goddess at card games

is actually a gymnast

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

-

bonuses: george and fred’s favorite movie to watch together is bill and ted’s excellent adventure

all the gryffindors have a movie night at least once a week and others from different houses join along as well

hermione, ginny, luna, parvati, padma, angelina, alicia, katie, and cho have girl nights

the same with the guys though it was quite awkward at first due to draco being there but they eventually warmed up to each other (after like 4 months)

no one really knows how draco and the slytherins even got there but yk

they never tell anyone that they’re comfortable with each other now though

tags: @quadrupledeckertaco @audreysmusings @georgeweasley19 @krasivayadarling @crookedhag

and others who i think would enjoy this: @lunalovecroft @whizboyhalo @darthwheezely @sirlorelai @puntuations @cherryweasleys @amourtentiaa @whatthefuckimbisexual @gredmforge (you don’t have to read if you don’t like!)

[w-ndrr]

headcanons for wonder wlman falling in love with somebody she saves then tries courting her as diana prince?? tysm i love your stories!

a/n: i’m so excited to do headcanons yez ^o^ thanks for requesting! i hope u like it (i’m new to making headcanons so i’m honestly not sure how this is gonna go but i hope u enjoy it)

genre: fluff mostly; diana x florist!reader

warnings: first time meeting and stuff, cute shit idk, kinda long i’m sorry, flowershop!au kinda, diana being a lil bit of a stalker (WITH GOOD INTENTIONS)

diana prince falling in love with someone she saves headcanons:

it was at bank robbery where she met you

there were children being held hostage by their collars and it angered you that they would lay out such fear on young ones

other civilians sitting on the ground with hands behind their heads crying out of fear for their lives, hoping a savior would come

you, in the other hand, had secretly called the police before the crimals actually started their injustice, noticing suspicious people when you first arrived

you did everything in your power to calm the kids crying up until a man pressed a gun to the side of your head

before he could pull the trigger, a woman in armor crashed into the room from the roof and quickly took out the man next to you

you shared eye contact only for a less than a second before she started zooming towards the other criminals

as she dealt with them, you noticed another man aiming his gun towards the children and rushed in to cover them with your own body

you heard the the gun fire, but strangely it didn’t hit you (°▽°)

when you turned around, you watched the woman in armor snap the gun in half with her bare hands before sending the man flying across the room

the woman didn’t look at you, but instead, she jumped high out of the building just as the police started barging in

that was the last you’ve seen of her

or so you thought HAHA ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

diana had been watching you for a while after the failed robbery

maybe for two weeks?? idk

in the morning, up on the roof of some building or leaning against a tall statue, she would watch when you would walk through the city to go to work at a flower shop

she learned that always you grabbed coffee on your way there and you’d always pet the coffee shop’s dog

sometimes, diana would think it was weird for her to be watching you from afar

but she was intrigued

you caught her eye that day when you tried to take the blow for those children despite knowing the fact it would’ve cost you your life if she hadn’t been there

she thought that was beautiful; how you would give your life to save others

it reminded her of a special someone (we all know who that is (´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`) )

so basically shes in love with you

she also learned that you lived alone; all the more reason for her to watch you sometimes

she didn’t anything bad to happen to a kind soul like you

but after the third week, diana finally decided to stop watching you

and talk to you herself as her civilian identity

she came into the flowershop you worked at, pretending to browse for plants to put in her own home as a disguise to talk to you

when you saw her come in, you had never seen such a gorgeous woman enter your life

but she looked very familiar to you

in the end, you decided that you’ve probably seen her on a cover of a magazine or something

you greeted and welcomed her into the flowershop nervously

diana found you adorable; you were dressed in a green apron and your hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail

you shared a short conversation with her, answering any questions she had about the flowers

she would compliment you everytime she walks in, only to get you to blush when’s she’s around (〃ω〃)

“You look pretty, (Y/N).”

“My day gets better every time I see you.”

and you saw her again and again, almost everyday

diana would come in only to talk to you and maybe buy some plants from time to time

her home is literally almost drowning in the plants that she purchased from your shop

but everytime she comes in, she swears she falls in love with you more and more

you were always so kind and gentle and shared so many wonderful stories with her

you were clueless to why she would visit so many times

until that day ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

diana made sure to do her hair nicer than she usually does and threw on her nicest causal outfit when she would come in to see you

she made sure she looked good that day because that was the day she was going to ask you out to dinner

and on her walk over to the shop, she didn’t expect the sky to FUCKING RAIN on her parade literally

she was soaked when she got there and had deadliest glare on her face

she literally came in like (-᷅_-᷄๑)

but when you saw her walk in all drenched and grumpy, you hurriedly ran over to her with a towel, worried that she’d get sick

“Oh, no! Diana! You’ll catch a cold!”

you brought her inside for some hot tea, a blanket, and a sweater from the flowershop she could change into

despite the weather not going according to her plans, she liked how you worried about her even if a little rain could never get her sick

diana was sitting on a bench in the shop by the window as you brought out hot tea for her

before you could walk away again, she grabbed your hand and pulled you down next to her

“(Y/N), would you like to go out for dinner some time?”

you stared at her dumbfounded ˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚

it was hard to believe a woman like diana like you in a more-than-friends way

you said yes, of course?? like who tf would say no to diana prince ಠ_ಠ

diana took you out for a fancy dinner by the river and went for a walk in the city right after

she held your hand through out all of it

on the same night, she kissed you on the lips for the first time

and yk stole few more bc she quickly got addicted to kissing you

this was a big step in your relationship which included:

diana being the softest girlfriend ever

she loves your attention

she would do anything for you if you asked

often times, she would eat lunch with you during break time at work

walks you home ALWAYS when it’s time to go home

diana was in love and intended to keep you safe at all times

over time, you slowly realized why diana looked so familiar when you first met her

when you weren’t with her, you would see news reports on tv showcasing a woman in armor saving the day

and you’ve witnessed it first hand before

so you confronted her about it

diana was nervous about it bc she kept it from you

but you weren’t angry; in fact, you thought it was cool

diana deserved a supportive girlfriend and you were there to give that to her

so she’s thankful for you

will protect you with her life

and will always and forever love you

♡ (๑>◡<๑) ♡

a/n: thank u for reading!! sorry if there’s typos i didn’t proof read this :/

[obeymeluv]

(Pact) Marks the Spot - [Beelzebub x Fem!Reader]

It’s 1 AM. Have some Beelzebub smut.

Now I’m getting all kinds of pact mark ideas. May put out some pact mark headcanons. 

Unedited because it’s 1 AM.

Despite the thousands of years demons had been alive, pact marks were exceedingly rare. Mostly because humans had lost the ability to summon. Most people who managed to summon demons did it by sheer luck or for nefarious reasons. Sometimes it took multiple attempts to pull a demon; half the time demons took pity on the humans and showed up for the hell of it (and a snack). At the end of the day, demons had to choose to make a pact and that was rare in itself.

Giving your real name had inconceivable power in a world like the Devildom, where non-humans roamed. Making a pact had the same weight and bore the same vulnerability.

And yet you had several.

Mammon’s pact mark was on the side of your arm where bicep meets shoulder, Levi’s was on the back of the opposite shoulder (even his pact mark wanted to stay away from Mammon!) and Beel’s was adjacent to your belly button, basically on your hip.

It was rare for a human to have one pact mark, let alone three. You were slowly learning things about pact marks. Things that hadn’t happened in so long they were basically speculation in the Devildom. Demons could “pull” on the pact marks just like humans could, and each brother had a different sensation. When Mammon secretly vied for your company, it felt like a hummingbird beat against your shoulder, a little kid pulling hesitantly on your sleeve. Levi rarely “pulled” on his pact mark, but when he did it was a long push with gentle pressure, like fingertips on your skin. Beelzebub never consciously pulled on your pact mark and you swore you only got his muscle pains.

Satan was absolutely bewildered by the concept. Shouldn’t you be able to feel something else with Beel? Surely you’d at least be a little hungry, right? It sparked many conversations between the brothers and Diavolo. Did Beel not have this ability for some reason? Was it because he was sixth-strongest? Could you only feel things with Mammon and Levi because they were second- and third-strongest, respectively?

Beel was basically already linked with Belphegor…did that hinder his ability to “pull” with you? Satan, for all his infinite knowledge and even greater amount of books, could not answer this. There were ancient scrolls in Diavolo’s castle that were too frail to unroll. No one wanted to test it, honestly, and appreciated them as the relics they were. They had been translated and written up several times over the centuries, but the books were either missing pages or just gone completely.

Humans who’d summoned demons in the past liked to ask for Devildom “souvenirs” and textbooks were a favorite. So many had been traded for favors from summoners or witches. Diavolo vividly recalled a brazen attendant spiriting one away now and then; he was convicted and executed for selling them to traders. Most of them were never recovered.

Beelzebub could come when summoned and that’s what mattered. They chose not to look into it any farther than that. What would it matter? There was nothing written on it anymore. There were quiet whispers that maybe you couldn’t feel Beel “pull” because you weren’t as close to him as Levi and Mammon. As in: you could pull from him per the ‘master’ clause of the pact, but he chose not to pull on you.

That hurt you, honestly, because he was an absolute sweetheart. Out of all of them, you could definitely SEE the ex-angel in him and how he acted. How he treated people. You thought you got along well! You liked to go on walks, try new food, and sometimes he used you as resistance weight when he practiced!

If that wasn’t being close, what was?!

You’d been thinking about it a lot, so used to Mammon’s ghosting squeeze throughout the day. It was like his way of checking on you without saying it aloud (because he could never be honest). Sometimes you could feel Levi’s frustration, your shoulder prickling like a knot forming on the muscle. But Beel? You didn’t feel anything in particular when you brushed your fingers over the mark, shirt held up in front of a mirror as if that would give you a sign.

When you touched the pact mark for the other brothers, there’d be a push back. Almost like a question. Yes, do you need something? It was crazy how the sensations could put words in your brain. Almost like they were translated for you, a human, to comprehend. That human-demon translation was possible; Satan had found that much.

So the brothers were basically telepathic. To an extent.

You’d pout in front of the mirror and wish to feel something. You’d stand there for ages, wondering if you were pushing any buttons in Beel’s brain. Triggering a want to send you a sign. When nothing happened, you’d let your shirt drop down and go about your day.

Your wish was finally answered one morning when a low, throbbing warmth seemed to radiate from the mark. You didn’t get your hopes up. It was probably a muscle cramp, some kind of post-stretch that had Beel feeling tender. A sharp pain bolted through you as you changed into your RAD uniform, the force of it enough to make you lean into the wall for support. It definitely felt like a muscle cramp, like someone who’d done a lot of ab work bent too low the next day.

It scared you to think this was only a fraction of what he felt. The pact mark was supposed to filter down emotions and sensations to levels that humans could tolerate, but only when the demon focused. If the demon was taken by surprise or felt something stronger than they anticipated, that would reflect in their pact mate.

Whatever he was feeling had your stomach in a flutter. The throbbing had dulled but a twisting sensation had taken its place. You felt something building, building, building in your stomach. A warmth overtook you, first nice and relaxing, then searing, and you wondered if Beelzebub had put on some kind of muscle cream. Half-dressed, you ran to the twins’ room to see what he was doing.

It was a brief run, and the rush of air seemed to cool your stomach. You thanked your lucky stars that Belphegor was nowhere to be found as you burst into the room. The throbbing sensation returned with a vengeance, the heat swelling in you as you drew upon the bathroom. One of the brothers was showering in there.

You started for the bathroom, whimpering when the throbbing grew strong enough to make your thighs shake. Clutching the doorway, you pressed your thighs together. A light-headed feeling overcame you and you swear you saw glimpses of white. Glimpses of Beel with an unnaturally long tongue snatching the shower curtain back and watching you with an intensity that made your heart stutter.

That flash of light must’ve only been seconds but you awoke to droplets of water raining down on you. Beelzebub towered over you, naked and freshly showered and radiating a warmth almost identical to what you felt in the pact mark. He slammed the door shut with a shove that snapped you to your senses.

You felt like you were recovering from a shockwave. Ripped from a dream.

“Fuck,” you heard Beel hiss. A grumbling, guttural sound rolled in his throat as he propped you up, hands scooting you back against the door, pushing your legs flat, pulling you up by the shoulders so you sat a little straighter, and propping your chin up against a few of his fingers so you could look at him.

His horns were out.

“Why are you mad at me?” you slurred, sounding offended.

“I’m not.” He gnashed his teeth in frustration and it was the first time you’d seen them up close. He and Satan had the sharpest teeth in the family. That was something of a bragging right between the two, enhanced by their sins, but they looked even sharper now. “I’m just…” Beel struggled with his words, his brow furrowed in thoughtfulness and agitation, “feeling a lot of things right now.” his chest heaved as the words finally came out.

Those big hands flexed in emphasis, in frustration that he couldn’t make you understand.

“Like?” the fog was starting to clear from your brain.

“Like how I choose not to connect with you because I care about you. I don’t want you to feel the endless hunger I feel, the absolute power it has over me.” Beel was starting to find his center, to calm down. “Like how upset I felt when my brothers even suggested I can’t pull on your pact mark because I feel nothing for you.” His horns flared again, cracking audibly as the spiraled around his wet hair. They seemed to harden and curl with conviction.

Kind of like a bull getting ready to charge and gore someone.

“Then what the hell was that?” you make a point to look at his face, to crane your neck up so he doesn’t think you’re following the lines of his chest or looking between his legs.

His eyes softened as he looked at you. They glittered against the bathroom light and wet floor. Beel’s lips lifted in a sweet smile hemmed with fangs. A blush lit his cheeks, starting at his cheekbones and spreading, when he broke your gaze. “I pulled on your pact mark.” Beel’s eyes shot to yours with a suddenness that made you flinch and hit your head against the wall.

You felt frozen in place. His eyes were hard and dark, like a real violet crystal. “Wh-what was I supposed to feel?” your voice was so small you wondered if he heard it. You had an idea of what it was, but you wanted to hear him say it. To have him admit it.

“How much I love you.” Beel said slowly, his face completely turned away from you. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you if you felt anything less. There was something else he could say, but he was afraid it’d be too much considering this ‘confession’ happened because urges got the best of him. Because he let his feelings sit for too long instead of being honest with you.

“Was it supposed to feel like an orgasm?”

WHY DID IT COME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH?! IT WAS TRUE, BUT WHY?! Here Beel was with his beautiful soul and his shy confession and you just STEAM ROLLED OVER IT!

The heat flared in your stomach again, swift and hot and somehow worse despite the fact you were sitting on a cold bathroom floor. Beel’s fingers reached for one of your ankles and he stopped himself. Burning eyes stared into you, and it was the first time you saw the muscles in his throat and jaw strain to hold his tongue. It slithered between his teeth, serpentine and seeking. “I love you that way, too.” Beel mumbled shyly, looking down.

Looking away, as if he was ashamed to say so.

You felt yourself melt against the floor, hoping the cold would soothe your burning body and calm your beating heart. Beel fell down around you, propping himself up on a forearm carefully placed by your head. “It’s a different kind of hungry,” he whispered with a hint of anguish and terror, forehead against his fist, “and I am not made to bear it. This isn’t supposed to be my sin.”

Beel wanted to cry. He was afraid his feelings were too strong for you, a human.

It finally hit you. This beefy cinnamon roll loved you and lusted over you. He was so overwhelmed with the sheer love he had for you—more than one kind—that it finally broke through his pact mark filter. When you realized that it made you feel even more special. It meant he’d been thinking of you, focusing for your benefit, this whole time.

“I can share that burden,” you whispered quietly, bumping his chin with your forehead. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees lightning fast, slipping a little on the floor. Your hands shot out to hold his shoulders in case he fell (not that it would do anything).

“You mean it?” Beel’s eyes were wide and searching. “You feel what I feel?” he asked, cupping your face in one hand, fingers reaching around the back of your head to cradle it.

“Yeah.” You blushed, pressing your cheek into his hand as you looked away. That big purr rolled in his chest, the one he was happy to give when you hugged him. The pact mark gave off a subdued warmth that surrounded you and comforted you. It felt like he was hugging you to him. It translated to Look at me, and you saw his violet eyes blazing, tongue slithering out in its ravenous glory.

It was one of the first times you’d really seen his “demon��� qualities shining through. It was fascinating in a shameful way; you couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to. I’m about to feast, you could feel the cold floor on your bare skin now, and you wondered how many pieces your clothes were in.  

He was starting to salivate a little and your heart leapt in your throat as those sharp teeth winked at you. Beel pressed himself flat against you, peppering your naked stomach with sloppy, hungry kisses. A small part of you—an irrational, stupid part—thought he’d start burrowing through until he hit muscle and organ. Instead he traced with his lips and tongue, strong hands coming up to grab at whatever he could reach. Beelzebub kissed his pact mark and you swore he conspired with it, your walls clenching around nothing and desperately wanting something.

“So beautiful,” Beel’s groping turned to massaging and kneading. Wet kisses slipped down towards your sex and he hummed against you. Hummed in restraint and desire. In contentedness that he could have this moment. His fingers found you first, teasing your clit and running the length of your slit before delving inside. You both cursed, probably at the same time.

You braced one foot on his chest as he propped your hips up with his free hand. Your back arched, head bumping into the wall. Beel’s fingers kept a steady, surprisingly tame pace. A total contrast to the eager head you could feel prodding at your back as he rolled his hips. His fingers dragged along your walls, curling in ways that made your body clench.

Everything was hot and you didn’t know if it was the closeness of him or the pact mark. Was he sharing his feelings with you or just exploiting your deliciously sensitive human nerves? It didn’t take long for you to orgasm. You looked at him through his lashes, mewling as he gingerly folded your knees to your chest and opened you up. It was stretching muscles and kindling feelings that had barely started to die.

“You look pretty like this,” Beel rasped in a voice cut with fangs. He kissed your ankle a few times, moving towards the bend of your knee as he stared down at you with a mix of love and pure hunger. Humans were delectable all their own, but the tang of your orgasm was something he’d rip people apart for. The desire to taste you overtook him, his tongue snaking out of his mouth as he buried himself between your thighs.

You gave a wanton moan that damn near made him orgasm. As an angel, he never understood how demons could torment humans so. Now? Now he perfectly understood the almost obsessed drive to coax all of these pretty noises out of them. How such a thing was worth the damnation, the rumors, and the reputation.

He was kissing you and suckling you and you saw the white come back into your vision again. You thought your heart was going to give out! You bobbed in and out of consciousness with each throb of pleasure, your body trying desperately to clench around the muscle. Beelzebub indulged in your orgasm like the last bite of an exquisite meal, daring to flick your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue as he drew it back into his mouth. The Avatar of Gluttony licked the corner of his lip, as he often did when he was satisfied with a meal (a small quirk you’d picked up on).

His lips were puffy and shiny, much like yours. He let you catch your breath, resting one leg on his shoulder. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you how I felt,” Beel muttered as he rubbed the leg on his shoulder comfortingly. He put your other leg on his shoulder, squeezing your calves now. “I knew I would always be hungry. I would always want you. I didn’t want you to feel like meat….like an object.”

“But I liked how that felt.” You smiled at him.

“I’m trying to be serious,” Beel huffed, sliding your legs down to his hips as he moved between your legs to meet your gaze. His lips ghosted over your chest and latched onto your neck. “I could eat you all day long,” he said more to himself, the words muffled by his lips. Beelzebub started to rut against you. At some point he must’ve orgasmed because his cock was slick, sliding across your sex and rubbing on your stomach.

His teeth pinched your neck and you gasped. Beel’s cock twitched.

“You have control, and I know you love me. Sex is just a bonus.” you wrapped your arms around his neck. Beel’s kisses turned almost kittenish as he basked in the feel of you hugging him, cradling him so gently. His heart swelled with love as he nuzzled against your skin. He felt your legs winding around him as you tried to angle yourself for his cock to find. He reached between your bodies to stroke himself.

“If I don’t,” he managed between grunts of ecstasy and frustration, “I’ll get you pregnant.”

Was that a warning or a promise? He certainly had the stamina for it.

Was there scientific evidence of demon sperm being especially potent for humans? Beel finished on your stomach before your thoughts could wander too far. He felt the desire ebb for the first time in what felt like ages and leaned back to take in how angelic you looked on the floor with your messy hair and tender body just starting to blossom with the colors of his affection. It seemed impossible, but that sight was more satisfying than fulfilling a craving. He laughed to himself—poor little dazed human. A cute little dazed human, though—as he cleaned you off with the towel he’d set aside for his shower.

Beel swaddled you in a new towel, wrapped one around his waist, and stood to collect you. He set you on his bed and shrugged into some clothes. The sight was just as nice as the sex, if not better. He handed you a shirt, his eyes shining like an excited puppy as he waited for you to put it on. You slipped it on and he purred long and deep, sliding into bed with you. The sixth-born scooped you into his strong arms, pressing your stomach against his face and bringing you up towards the headboard.

“I love you,” he kissed your stomach. Kissed his pact mark.

“I love you,” you petted and played with his drying hair. The post-sex lull sauntered in and your thoughts began to slow. The last coherent one you remembered was how were we not interrupted?

“I told Asmodeus I was going to confess to you and Lucifer overheard. He was a little concerned things would ‘evolve into impropriety’ so I made a bet with him. If he and my brothers could pin me to the floor, he could supervise the confession. If I won, I could do it my way.”

You stopped petting his hair, now wide awake. “You beat all of your brothers?!”

“Of course!” he laughed into your stomach. ��Well...sort of. Levi didn’t try, Asmodeus sat out as a protest, and Satan and Belphie just watched. Mammon was going to take bets but Lucifer said if he helped, he’d pay off some of his credit card debt.”

“So you beat up Lucifer and Mammon?”

“Not totally,” Beelzebub shimmied up the bed until you were nose-to-nose, wrapping his arms around you. “I threw Mammon out of the house a few times; he finally decided to watch through the window. Lucifer fought the hardest.”

“When are they coming back?”

As if to answer you, his D.D.D started going off. Beelzebub reluctantly untangled himself to grab it. You could hear him opening and closing chats. “Soon,” he replied as he set it down. “It took them a while to agree on furniture.” He tucked himself into you again.

“Furniture?!”

“Well…we broke a few things.” He admitted bashfully. “A lot of things.”

Now you were tempted to go down and see what the first floor looked like. Beelzebub felt your leg stretch over him, your body trying to push off the bed. There was a gentle insistence in your stomach, like a little weight pressing you to the bed. A sweeping feeling of comfy and cuddle me that sapped your willpower. Beelzebub was pulling on your pact mark.        

[steves-on-a-plane]

I'll Be There For You

For @star-spangled-bingo 2021

Pairing: None Cast Of Characters: Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers & Rogers Daughter!Reader Warnings: Mild swearing, bit of teenaged angst from Reader Words: 2399 Squares Filled: Dad/Daughter Dance Summary: Reader is Steve Rogers' twelve year old daughter who has been left in the care of her two "Uncles" Sam and Bucky. Reader confesses to Sam & Bucky that she feels like she plays second figure to "Captain America" on her dad's priority list. Her uncles do their best to assure her this isn't the case and of course Steve Rogers swoops in at the last minute to save the day.

You opened the window, closed your eyes and inhaled deeply. You didn’t care that the wind swirling around outside was causing small pools of water on the sill as fat droplets made their way in side. You didn’t care that the air was thick and the sky was a chalky grey. It was raining and you loved the rain. Rain was cleansing. Rain meant that old things were being washed away and new things would grow in their place. Rain was comforting.

The apartment you lived in with your father was the opposite. The building was old and every other floorboard seemed to creak or crack. The windows rattled and no matter how much the two of tried to keep things clean, there seemed to be a perpetual layer of dust that settled over everything. It was somehow stuff and drafty at the same time. You want to be outside where the rain was, not stuck inside with your two babysitters.

“[Y/N], what the hell are you doing?” Your Uncle Bucky demanded as he entered the living room. He pulled down the sash, effectively closing the window and keeping the beautiful rain scents out.

“Buck, you shouldn’t say hell to kids. You shouldn’t swear at kids. Steve would have a fit if he heard you.” Uncle Same chastised as he followed into the room.

“[Y/n]’s not a kid, she’s twelve. That’s practically thirteen. She’s basically a teenager.” Bucky pointed out. “Besides it’s not like hell is a gateway swear. You think if she hears me say hell then it’s a matter of time before she moves on to some real swear like…"

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Sam interrupted. “I don’t see a scenario where that sentence doesn’t end in a word Steve is comfortable with [Y/N] hearing.”

“Uncle Sam you do know that I’ve been around Tony Stark before, right?” You asked. “And believe it or not the Avenger who swears the most is Dr. Banner.”

“That still doesn’t mean your Uncle Bucky needs to help you pick up any bad habits.” Sam then noticed the water on the windowsill dripping down onto Steve’s hardwood floor. “Where did all that water come from?”

“Little Rogers had the window open.” Bucky nodded at you. “She had half her torso sticking out a fifth floor window.” He shook his head. “I’ll go get a towel.”

“Were you really hanging out the window?” Sam asked as Bucky stepped out into the hall. He knew Uncle Bucky had the tendency to overreact. Not that he could blame the guy, you were the only kid Bucky ever spent more than five minutes with.

“No.” You answered, but the truth was you couldn’t be certain. “I don’t know, maybe.” You added.

“YES!” Bucky shouted from the linen closet, still out of sight.

“You know that’s dangerous, don’t you [Y/N]?” Sam reminded you.

“Yeah, but…” You tried to defend yourself.

“Yeah but do you think Uncle Sam or I want to have to call your Dad and tell him that you fell out the window when we were supposed to be taking care of you?” Bucky handed you the towel and motioned for you to start moping up your mess.

“Weren’t you the one who was just saying I’m practically a teenager?” You sighed. You then mumbled to yourself, “Besides, maybe if I fell out of the window he’d actually pay attention to me.” Sam and Bucky exchanged a look of confusion behind your back.

“What do you mean by that?” Sam probed. He wasn’t accusatory. His tone was soft, he waited for you to answer.

“He’s not here right now is he?” You tossed the sopping towel in your hands to the ground and turned to face them. “Lots of kids have parents who go away for work so I know I’m not that special okay? But I can’t help but wish he was home more. Even when he’s not away on missions he’s still in his office taking calls or filing reports or zoom meetings! It sucks!” You threw yourself down into a nearby armchair. You ignored the smirk from Bucky and the incredulous look from Sam as you swore. “Even when he tries to do things with me…Like last week, he wanted to take me out for ice cream. We didn’t even make it a block from the apartment before he was getting hounded for photos and autographs. I love my dad, but I hate Captain America.”

Sam and Bucky exchange another look. This time both their expressions seemed to say, “What do we do now?”

“It’s okay, you can say it.” You sighed, looking down at your feet rather than at either of them.

“Say what, Kid?” Bucky used the most affectionate nickname he could muster and he sat beside you on the couch.

“That it’s a really selfish thing to say and that Captain America does a lot of good and sharing dad with the Greater Good is a sacrifice I should be happy to make. You can’t think any worse of me then I already do.” You assured them, still not daring to make eye contact with either one of them.

“I don’t think that at all.” Bucky told you. You certainly weren’t expect that. You looked over at him. “I hate Captain America too sometimes.”

“You do?” You felt your eyebrows knit together. Uncle Bucky had been your dad’s best friend practically their entire lives.

“Of course. Steve Rogers is my best friend.” Bucky said. “But Steve Rogers is a skinny little thing who’s allergic to everything under the sun, and couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag.” His description brought forward in your mind pictures you’d seen of you dad before the serum. Seeimg him like that always made you giggle. “Now Captain America, He’s a big beefy guy, he likes running and motocyles, thinks he’s so cool.” Bucky wrinkled his face in disgust. “You know what helps me, on my days when I’m really ticked off at Captain America?”

“What?” You inched a little closer to Bucky as if he were whispering a secret.

“I have to remind myself that some days, your dad hates Captain America too.” You opened your mouth to disagree, but Sam jumped in. He sat on the other end of the couch, joining the conversation.

“Remember that story you were telling us during dinner, that one friend you have…?” Sam reminded you.

“Jennifer.” You supplied.

“Right.” Sam nodded. “Remember how you said Jennifer’s mom told her that drawing is a waste of time so now even though Jennifer really loves to paint and draw she doesn’t bring her projects home from art class any more? This is kind of like that.”

“Riiight.” Bucky agreed unsure if your friend’s interest in art was the same as the point he was trying to make, but he’d give Wilson an A for effort.

“It’s the same thing.” Sam insisted. “Jennifer is comfortable sharing her art work with you, because she knows you support her. There are thinks your dad with share with us that Captain America might not share with the world.”

“Right.” Bucky nodded enthusiastically this time. “Like that magazine that published an Apple Pie recipe last month as ‘Captain America’s Signature Apple Pie.’ You and I both know your dad’s never made an apple pie in his life. He doesn’t even like apple pie that much.” You smiled again remembering the rant Uncle Bucky had gone on when he saw the magazine in the grocery store.

“You said your cat could probably make a better pie that dad.” You reminded him.

“And I still think that.” Buck assured you. “Our point, [Y/N], is that it’s okay to not be okay all of the time. It’s okay to feel like your dad and Captain America are two different people sometimes. But you have to talk about you are feeling. You have to tell your dad, Uncle Sam, me or someone else , because if you don’t you’re never going to feel better about it.”

“I mean I guess I feel a little better already.” You shrugged. “But I’m afraid to bother any one with my stuff. You guys are busy. Let me guess this is the part where you both say you’re never too busy for me?” You rolled your eyes. “Dad says that all the time, but he’s on a mission and not at the father daughter dance with me tonight. I’m sorry about the window.” You said getting to your feet. You picked up the towel from where you’d discarded it earlier.

“Father daughter dance?” Bucky mouthed to Sam behind your back. Sam shrugged in response. “Fix it!” Bucky replied.

“How?” Sam mouthed back. It was Bucky’s turn to shrug.

“I think I got most of the water.” You said, facing them again. “I’ll throw this thing in the hamper and then I think I’ll call it a night. Thanks for listening to me b-complain for a bit.” You decided not to chance swearing again in front of Uncle Sam.

“Bed?” Bucky jumped to his feet. “It’s not even five yet.” He glanced at his watch to confirm. “We should do something…”

“That’s fine, I think I just want to be alone for now. I’m sure dad will still be gone tomorrow. We can do something then.” You and your dripping wet towel started to make your way towards your bedroom.

“[Y/N], wait.” Sam also got to his feet. “Maybe Uncle Bucky and I could take you to your father daughter dance. I know it’s not the same because we’re not your dad, but other kids probably go with uncles or…”

“Jennifer’s moms are both taking her.” You smirked. “And I am the only one of my friends who wasn’t going. It could be fun.”

“What time’s the dance start?” Bucky asked. “Seven? Eight?”

“Seven, but I don’t have anything to wear. Everyone else was planning on dressing up.” You pointed out.

“If we leave now, I’m sure we can still find you something nice.” Sam suggested. “Maybe we can find a salon to do your hair.” He remembered how much his sister used to love getting her hair done special for dances when they were younger.

“What about the rain?” You bit your lip. You could tell they were really trying to make this work.

“You were about to climb out that window before I got in the room.” Bucky laughed. “I didn’t think a little rain would slow you down.”

“Okay.” You agreed. “Okay. Father-Daughter-Uncle Dance it is.”

“I’ll get my car keys. You put your shoes on and get a jacket. Last thing I need is you getting sick.” Sam instructed.

Two and a half hours later, Sam parked his car in the parking lot of your school. The dance was being held in the gymnasium. Miraculously, he had found a hair salon that was still open and willing to style your hair for the event. Apparently, a lot of parents in the neighborhood were taking their kids for cuts or styles in preparation of the big event. While you were in the salon, Bucky darted in and out of shops trying to find the right dress. He was on video chat with you or Sam the entire time and eventually the three of you settled on a pale pink dress with layers and layers of tule for the skirt. It had a shimmering silk sash that Uncle Bucky had tied into a perfect pink bow and the sleeves were flowy but not heavy. You felt like a princess.

“We’re late.” You frowned. “Do you think that matters?”

“Haven’t you ever been fashionably late before?” Bucky asked, opening the car door for you. He held a large umbrella in his hands so that neither of you would get wet. You noticed the rain had slowed down considerably since earlier.

Bucky and Sam had done their best to look put together for you. Uncle Bucky borrowed a pair of your dad’s old khaki pants and a charcoal grey button up shirt he hardly ever wore. You didn’t know where he’d found suspenders, but suspected they were your fathers too. Uncle Sam went for a more casual look wearing his cleanest pair of jeans and a maroon polo. When you entered the school gym, your homeroom teacher Mr. Jenson was selling and collecting tickets.

“Ah, [Y/N] Rogers. Who are your escorts this evening?” He asked while Sam paid for the tickets.

“These are my two Uncles.” You introduced them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.” Mr. Jenson smiled. “Enjoy the dance.”

For the most part you did. There were all sorts of desserts available. Bucky helped you taste test every single one before you both agreed the chocolate cupcakes were the best. You felt a sense of pride when one of the boys in your class tried asking Sam about his Falcon costume and he explained he was at the dance on official Uncle business. They’d have to save the Falcon talk for another time. You introduced them to all of your friends and told everyone how amazing it was that they’d put everything together so last minute for you. Both Sam and Bucky took turns making sure you got in as many dances as possible. What had started as a boring afternoon had turned into a pretty good night.

“I think I’m ready for bed.” You yawned as you sat down next to Sam. The night had begun to wind down and you were getting tired.

“One more dance and then we’ll head up.” Bucky told you.

“Uncle Bucky I don’t know if I’ve got one more dance in me.” You yawned again.

“Too tired to dance with your old man even?” A familiar voice asked from behind you. You pivoted in your seat to see your dad standing behind you. He was dressed in his best suit, your favorite navy blue one, and held a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand.

“Dad!” You jumped to your feet and hugged him.

“You didn’t think I’d miss the chance to dance with my best girl, did ya?” You Dad asked. You took the flowers he offer you and placed them on the table between Sam and Bucky.

“Thank you.” You whispered to both of them before following your dad out to the dance floor.

[morfinwen]

OC Name: Ian, Lauren, Q, Niner, and Ash.

Wow, this one's old! But answered at last.

Ian

Something really awesome he can do: His coworkers are certainly amazed by his ability to remain in Lauren’s presence when she’s in a temper, let alone how he can talk to her without getting murdered, or even -- sometimes -- calm her down.

A person, creature, or thing he adores: Squirrels. Growing up, he named all the ones he saw in his backyard, and would watch them for hours. He’d love to do the same now, but as an adult with bills he doesn’t have the time. He does have a bird feeder out in his yard specifically for the squirrels.

A secret he’s hiding: No secrets -- Ian wouldn’t be able to keep one if he had it.

Something he truly fears: Something bad happening to his parents.

A fond memory of his: The first time his parents drove to visit his mom’s parents on the Tennessee/Kentucky border. It’s a cozy memory of scenery passing in a blur, what seemed like a continuous stream of snacks and juice boxes, switching between CDs of his and his parents’ favorite music, and listening to his mom and dad tease and flirt with each other (subtle enough to fly over the head of a seven-year-old who still thought kissing was icky).

A place or item which gives him strong feelings: The sanctuary of the church where he grew up. It’s where he was baptized, and where he played guitar during some very moving services.

A dream or ambition for the future: Perform on live TV.

An angsty fact about him: He and Lauren had a falling out in their second year of college. I hesitate to say it was over Protestantism and Catholicism; it was, at least to some degree, but it was also about worldview, the nature of God, the role of tradition and conscience, and perhaps most of all it was about what we owe to people we disagree with. They’d argued about religion before, but it wasn’t until then that they actually understood enough to do more than rebut “Pastor Andrews says” with “Father Vernon says”, and for it to matter enough to them to blow up as much as it did. It took months for them to reconcile, partially because of stubbornness and uncertainty of how to fix things, but also because schoolwork and practice meant they didn’t have the time to figure it all out.

A domestic fact about him: Ian almost always keeps most, if not all, of his windows open. Even when it’s cold (for Tennessee) or raining. It can make things cold, and the smell isn’t always great, but he insists it’s too stuffy otherwise. Lauren is pretty sure it’s a psychosomatic thing.

A random other fact: He once had a dream where he was a dog, Lauren was a cat, and they escaped from their owners to travel the world together. It would’ve made a good movie.

Lauren

Something really awesome she can do: Play Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu (Op. 66) completely from memory.

A person, creature, or thing she adores: Not sure if “adore” is quite the right word, but one of the most important people to Lauren, outside of Ian and her immediate family, is Father Vernon from her family’s parish. He’s known her family since before she was born, listened to their confessions, counseled her parents, baptized her and her siblings. Every weekend she drives the couple hours it takes to her hometown so she can attend Mass at Father Vernon’s church.

A secret she’s hiding: She’s written songs … about fictional characters. She even composed a suite of music for a pair of fictional characters’ wedding.

Something she truly fears: Permanent damage to her hands. Her music teacher once mentioned a friend of hers who couldn’t play the piano anymore after something heavy fell on his hands. If Lauren was the type of person to have nightmares based on things she heard, that certainly would have given her nightmares.

A fond memory of hers: Her grandparents would have a picnic sometime in June, every year. It wasn’t always enjoyable, between the long car drive there with all of her siblings jammed into a cramped place, and the potential for bugs, sunburn, and bad weather, but the park was beautiful, there were so many other kids around that there was always someone to play with even if everyone else had annoyed you, and when it got to be evening they would all gather around, play music, and sing.

A place or item which gives her strong feelings: Mrs. G’s music classroom at the elementary school. In addition to band during school weeks, it was also where Lauren had her piano lessons with Mrs. G on the weekends.

A dream or ambition for the future: She doesn’t think winning a Grammy award is out of the question someday.

An angsty fact about her: From first grade until she graduated college, she believed herself to be her parents’ least favorite child. Even now, it’s not so much that she doesn’t believe it as she doesn’t think it’s worth it to spend time and energy thinking about it.

A domestic fact about her: In order to have room for a keyboard in her apartment, she gave up on having a dining table, so she eats all over the place. She’s good about taking bowls and plates back to the kitchen, but there’s constantly cups and silverware lying around the living areas.

A random other fact: She hates her middle name. “Eleanor” sounds like an old lady name, not least because she’s named after one of her mother’s great-aunts, who is quite old, and has the kind of personality that suggests she was born gray-haired, wrinkled, and talking about “in the old days”.

Q

Something really awesome he can do: He is trained in the use of multiple types of swords. It was a quid pro quo with his aunt and uncle: Q spoke to his politically-connected buddy from boarding school and got the ball rolling on an exemption from some nasty tariffs, they arranged for sword fighting lessons for a year. He never participated in any tournaments or anything (too much publicity), but he can say without undue pride that he got to be pretty good.

A person, creature, or thing he adores: “Adore” doesn’t really describe how Q feels about anything.

A secret he’s hiding: He’s not exactly hiding it, but he isn’t open about precisely how rich and powerful his aunt and uncle are, or how many famous (or in the case of some of his cousin’s criminal friends, infamous) people he knows through them.

Something he truly fears: Just the idea of being buried alive freaks him out.

A fond memory of his: He’s got some good memories of some summer holidays during his time at boarding school. Occasionally Q got invited to tag along with someone, a friend of his cousin or a fellow classmate, on their vacation to some super rich resort in some beautiful, exotic location. He’d still hear from his aunt and uncle regularly, and he always had to be well-behaved, but it was less than when he was at school -- at his age, just hanging out with rich and influential people counted as “networking” to his aunt and uncle, so they’d call in to check on him regularly but otherwise left him alone, and in a less formal setting than school “well-behaved” was an easier standard to meet. While parts of those summers were genuinely enjoyable for him, years of living hand to mouth a hairsbreadth away from sleeping on a street corner has added a much rosier shine to those days sleeping in five-star hotels and eating haute cuisine.

A place or item which gives him strong feelings: The family pile. It was where his dad spent his summers, so spending his own summers there growing up was one of the few times he felt connected to his parents. He’s also spent a significant number of holidays and family parties there, so it’s also associated with the exacting standards of his aunt and uncle and the strain of Keeping Up Appearances.

A dream or ambition for the future: He likes to imagine his aunt and uncle getting taken down a peg (or two, if he's particularly angry with them; sometimes he dares indulge the thought of three), though he struggles to imagine a scenario where that happens without notable repercussions.

An angsty fact about him: Virtually all of his t-shirts are band t-shirts, including bands he doesn’t listen to, bands he’s never heard of, foreign bands, fictional bands, and bands with potentially offensive names or symbols (though he usually only wears those at home or when he can be pretty sure he can keep his jacket closed all day). During his time in LA, one of his roommates asked if he wore them because, as an orphan who grew up in boarding schools, it was the closest he got to feeling like he belonged to something. The precise wording was kinder than that, but it still kickstarted a realization that rocked Q’s world for a couple days.

A domestic fact about him: He’s kind of weird about household chores in general. Despite his best efforts not to be as dismissive as his aunt and uncle, he still grew up in an atmosphere of "The Help does that," and it led to a steep learning curve when he moved out after graduation. He’s on top of dishes now and has a good handle on laundry, but sweeping and vacuuming require active thought, he barely registers that mopping is an actual thing, and unless "swipe hand over surface then brush hand off on pants" counts, he has never dusted.

A random other fact: Thanks to growing up outside the occult community, Q is unaware of the various taboos and 'bad words' within the community, and more than once says something offensive. Fortunately, this never creates any real issues for him, as everyone he does it to or in front of is aware he's not doing it maliciously. In fact, to most of them it's more like a small child 'swearing' because they misunderstood or mispronounced something, or saying something offensive out of innocent ignorance. Q is not best pleased when he finds out: being unintentionally offensive is one thing, being unintentionally adorable is worse.

Niner

Something really awesome she can do: She’s very good at mental math -- basic arithmetic, conversion from metric to imperial or types of currency, multiplying large numbers. Most people are more impressed with this ability than Niner herself is: she’s never had to work at it, and for most of her life it hasn’t been terribly relevant.

A person, creature, or thing she adores: Niner has a lot of younger siblings. She adores them all. Around them, she will drop the pretense of caring about nothing, and show full enthusiasm for anything they like.

A secret she’s hiding: She hasn't told anyone about the abusive relationship in her past.

Something she truly fears: For werecats, the threat of getting caught by animal control and getting euthanized or ending up as somebody’s housecat is about as probable as your average person getting struck by lightning, but few werecats are completely immune to fearing it. Niner in particular finds it horrifying.

A fond memory of hers: Her last year hanging with her parents and immediate siblings was a pretty good one. Since their kids were all on the verge of striking out on their own, her parents allowed them more independence than they ever had before, but there was still the safety net and companionship of family. They also made a point of visiting some places that they’d talked about visiting for years but hadn’t gotten to. It was basically a year-long vacation, and made Niner more aware of her independent spirit.

A place or item which gives her strong feelings: An alley behind a bar in Atlanta, Georgia. It’s where her relationship with Marrow ended. It’s also where one of her recurring nightmares, on the rare occasions she has one, takes place.

A dream or ambition for the future: Werecats travel a lot, but they tend to remain in the same country, and after their roaming days as young adults, they tend to remain in the same geographic area. Niner’s roaming days might be over, but she wants to visit another country. It won’t be easy, considering that she lacks money, a birth certificate, and a general idea of what other countries there are out there, but Niner can be dedicated when she really wants something.

An angsty fact about her: Tied in with her desire for independence is a belief that she needs to rely solely on herself, that other people can’t be trusted or that asking them to bear even part of one of her problems is infringing on them.

A domestic fact about her: Niner’s favorite place to sleep is Q’s windowsill. It gets a good amount of sunlight, and the size is just perfect.

A random other fact: She once worked as a cashier. It was just for a single shift, she got paid under the table, and frankly she was terrible at it, but the hot dog stand guy was desperate, and Niner really needed the money.

Ash

Something really awesome he can do: Ash can make a vegetarian version of just about anything. He considers it a gift. To others in the household (particularly Connie) … it’s amazing, but not in a good way.

A person, creature, or thing he adores: A crocheted frog that ‘lives’ on a shelf in the kitchen. It was a gift to his great-aunt who owned the house before him. It’s not what most people would consider cute, it’s probably older than he is so it’s got some noticeable wear and tear to it, but to little bitty Ash it was a benevolent spirit watching over the kitchen, smiling kindly to everyone who entered, and never telling on the small boy sneaking cookies before dinner.

A secret he’s hiding: It’s not quite a secret, more a deeply personal family matter that Ash is aware of but doesn’t share with anyone. His aunt Lily isn’t technically his aunt. She’s a half-dryad who, because of complications tied to her conception and birth, is bound to a tree on his grandmother’s property and traveling too far from it is painful for her. Obviously this isn’t something they can share with normal people, but it’s a sensitive enough situation that no one outside of Ash, his mother, grandmother, and aunts knows the details.

Something they truly fear: Ash is a naturally patient person, but he is not inherently non-confrontational or easy-going. And he is not the kind of person to just stand by when something makes him angry. He’s not exactly scared of losing his temper and doing something he regrets, but he is concerned about someday ending up on a slippery slope and reaching a point where he wouldn’t regret it.

A fond memory of his: He and Danae took a lot of walks in the country when they were in high school, usually by themselves, but sometimes with one of his aunts or one of her siblings. One especially beautiful summer evening, they sat by a lake for a couple hours and talked about their dreams for the future -- not just what they were likely to do, but what they really wanted to do with their lives.

A place or item which gives him strong feelings: The abovementioned lake. He spent a lot of time there growing up, and there’s good and bad memories tied to it. Mostly good.

A dream or ambition for the future: He has a lot of plans for the house. He’s not sure yet whether he wants to try to turn it into a school for enchanting, or turn it back into a bed-and-breakfast type place for occult people. The former is more appealing to him personally, but the latter works better considering that there’s already a bunch of different occult types staying there.

An angsty fact about him: Ash is the least angsty person in the household, honestly. He’s very grateful for that.

A domestic fact about him: He hates dust. Dishes can stack up for a meal or two, laundry gets done mainly because otherwise he’d have no clothes, mopping only happens if the floor is sticky, the fridge is cleaned out on a schedule, but dusting happens every day.

A random other fact: He’s watched several YouTube videos trying to learn how to yodel. It’s gotten put on the back burner, now that there’s people in the house who could hear him no matter how tightly he shuts the door or how quietly he tries to do it, but he still hopes to learn how someday.

Thanks for asking!

[katie-writes24]

Five Of A Kind

Pairing: Poly!Hamilsquad x reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, opinionated comments towards the Spider-Man movies, I guess some things are implied, but barely

Just something I came up with. I’m a sucker for Poly!hamilsquad :) Takes place at the start of their relationship. Uh, shoutout to Pinterest for giving me prompt ideas ig? I’m going to start working on more requests after this. Enjoy!

She sat in a booth in the corner, watching through the window the busy streets of New York. The sun had been replaced by heavy clouds, and it was obvious it would rain any minute.

She tapped an impatient finger against the handle of her mug, looking at her phone once more before the seat across her was filled by John and Lafayette.

“About time,” She raises a brow and John looked back sheepishly.

“At least we’re not the last ones here,” Just then a waiter came over and took their drink orders. When he left, Laf took her hand into his.

“How are you, mon ange? We have not seen you in a while.” Y/N felt a pang of guilt hit her. She had been absent from the past months movie and game nights, missed out on a couple of dates, all due to school work piling up.

“I know, I’m sorry. Just had a lot of work to do. I swear, I won’t cancel again.” She smiled and Laf kissed her knuckles, only to be startled when Hercules threw an arm around him, pulling him into a kiss.

“Ce qui ne va pas avec vous? You scared me!” Laf put a hand to his heart while John snickered beside him.

Hercules chuckled and sat down next to Y/N, placing an arm at the back of the booth and kissing her cheek. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Alex is last, as usual. Give me my ten dollars,” He nudged Laf who rolled his eyes, but pulled out a bill from his wallet. The waiter came back with their drinks and took Herc’s order, as well as a coffee for Alex.

“Has he been working this late the whole week?” She asked. Though she has been doing the same recently, they all knew college classes and his job were totally different. Alex working late would only bring more tension, stress and sleep deprivation to them all.

“Just the past two days,” John shook his head, looking out the window as the rain came. “Dude doesn’t even think time exist anymore.”

“Speak of the devil,” Hercules nodded towards the front of the cafe, and they all watched him walk over.

“Fifteen minutes? That’s a new record, man.” Y/N said bitterly, but not really meaning it.

“Water falls from the sky and people don’t know how to drive.” Alexander sits next to Laf and takes off his jacket. “I’m sorry, I’ll buy this time.”

“Bribery will get you nowhere,” She sipped from her mug, but willingly ordered her meal carefree.

~~~~~

“So...it’s one character?”

“Correct.”

“But three different actors?”

“Right.”

“In three different...worlds?” Lafayette tilted his head as he watched the screen.

“Well...kinda. It’s basically in the same universe, but just different stories. Like the last Peter Parker is set in the same timeline as the Avengers.” Alex shoves more popcorn in his mouth as Laf narrows his eyes.

“I do not get it.”

“You don’t have to get it, babe,” John smiles and runs his hand through Y/N’s hair.

“Uh, yes, he does have to get it if we’re going to binge all of the Spider-Man movies,” She looked up at John as if he was crazy. He giggled and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“All you have to understand is Andrew Garfield was the worst Spider-Man,” Hercules said, earning agreeing hums from Alex.

“But he is the cutest one,” Y/N smiled as she watched said actor on screen in his suit.

“Oh, I can totally fight with you on that!” Alex gave her an accusing stare.

“Non, I think he’s pretty cute!” Laf snuggles further into John, and the latter tilts his head up and gives him a peck on his jaw.

“You haven’t even seen Tom Holland yet, your opinions aren’t valid right now!” Alex throws popcorn at his head from the other couch.

“Shhhhh, this is the best part...” Herc put his finger up to Alex’s lips, and he quickly took it into his mouth, causing Hercules to groan in annoyance.

~~~~~

The bell above the door jingled, Hercules looking up from the suit he was working on. His concentrated frown turned into a warming smile as he saw her walk in with a plastic bag in her hand.

“Tell me there’s something edible in there?” He leaned his arms against the counter and smirked as she froze in her steps.

“Are you saying my presence isn’t enough for you?” Y/N scoffed and set the bag down next to him. “But yes, I might have some food in here.”

“I thought you had class?” Herc smiled as she pulled out two containers of burgers.

“I just finished, thought you’d be hungry. I knew you had to come in early, and from John’s drunk text last night, it seemed like you didn’t get enough sleep.” She laughed as he rolled his eyes.

“I got maybe four hours. I don’t know how Alex does it,” He munched on a fry and intertwined their hands together. “Thanks for the food.”

“Of course,” Y/N smiled and the two ate in comfortable silence after that. She could see the different types of fabric thrown across the back tables. It was an obvious sign of stress, it looked like Herc’s office at his apartment. When they finished their meal, she cleared her throat, “Hey, don’t stress yourself out okay? I know you guys are understaffed, but that doesn’t mean all the work has to be thrown on you.”

“I know, but I was the only one on shift today, which means I get all the new orders.” He ran a hand over his face and sighed. “I should probably get back to work.”

“Sure,” She started to leave, but his hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his chest. She leaned into the embrace and smiled.

“You can stay if you want? I could use the company,” He kisses her head and leans back to look into her eyes.

“I guess I could work on some essays,” She leaned up and kissed him soundly. “Thanks.”

~~~~~

She knocked on the door as she tried to shake off the snow sticking to her coat. It opened a moment later with a relieved looking Aaron on the other side.

“Thank god,” He sighed and stepped to the side to let her in.

“Still hasn’t been out of his room?” Y/N stripped out of her jacket and looked around the messy apartment.

“Not since this morning, and it was only to get another coffee. I’m surprised you guys didn’t check on him sooner.” Aaron raised a brow as she chuckled.

“We talked to him two nights ago, and he seemed fine. Trust me, this isn’t the worse it’s been.” She knocked on his bedroom door, and after not receiving an answer, she opened it slowly.

Alexander was sitting at his desk, back to the door and typing away on his laptop. She sighed as she looked around the room. Cans of energy drinks and candy wrappers had been thrown hazardously near the small trash can in the corner, along with shreds of paper. His bedsheets were thrown carelessly and different documents laid on top.

Y/N shook her head and walked towards where he was seated at his computer chair. She wrapped her arms around the him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“You are freezing,” He winced, voice hoarse like he hasn’t spoken in days.

“How long have you been sitting here?” She asked, eyes roaming over the paragraphs he was typing.

“Today?”

“Alex!” She tutted disapprovingly, reaching for his laptop to close it, but he was quicker, grabbing at her hand.

“No! I just need to finish this real quick!” Shoving her hand away, he leaned forward and typed faster.

“You’ve been in here for hours, for all I know days,” Y/N’s hands wrapped around his, and squeezed them. “When’s the last time you ate something? Or showered? Or walked around?”

The silence was enough to fill her question.

“You’re not taking care of yourself, Al. And do you remember that we had plans tonight? We were all gonna go ice skating.”

“Fuck, it’s already Saturday,” Alex ran a hand over his face and grumbled. “I’m sorry.”

There was frustration in his voice, and she would be lying if Y/N said she didn’t feel bad for him. He has been stressed about work lately, picking up a lot of other people’s slack and working late hours. She held him closer and kissed his neck softly, his own hand coming up to her arm and rubbing a soothing thumb across it. They stayed like that, until he eventually leaned forward and started typing away again, saving the document once again.

“When’s your deadline?”

“Tuesday.”

“Are you kidding me?!” She slammed the computer closed and pulled him away from the chair.

~~~~~

“What the hell, John?” Hercules slammed his cards against the table as John laughed.

“You guys suck at this game,” He smirked and laid his cards out.

“You’re cheating, its so obvious that you’re cheating,” Alex walked away from the table, Laf smirking at how easy it was for him to get mad.

“It’s just a game, mon amie,” Laf chuckled as Alex flipped him off.

“I’m turning in, I gotta work the early shift tomorrow,” Hercules stretched his arms and yawned.

“You are all welcomed to stay the night, there is plenty of space,” Laf offered, hope in his voice. He liked when he didn’t have to go to sleep alone, which is something that hasn’t happened in quite a while.

“I can’t Laf, I got an early meeting,” Alex frowned as he put in his shoes.

“Me too, and I got to be early or Lee will never let me hear the end of it,” John kissed the top of Laf’s head and walked towards Alex.

“I can stay, I don’t have class tomorrow,” Y/N grinned as Laf turned from disappointed to excited.

“Don’t have too much fun, you two,” Hercules smiled and kissed them both goodbye, Alex and John doing the same before leaving the house.

Laf wiggled his eyebrows with a smirk at her, which she pushed his shoulder and walked upstairs to his room. He soon followed and gave her a pair of pajamas to change into.

They fell into bed easily, Y/N cuddled up into his side as he wrapped his arms around her protectively. She could hear his heartbeat and sighed with content.

“What are you thinking about, cherie?” He whispered, not wanting to disturb the quiet.

She hesitated before answering, “How great this all has been...all of us, together. It’s pretty amazing.”

“That it is,” Laf kissed her forehead and smiled. “I wouldn’t trade these past months for anything.”

Y/N leaned forward and captured his lips, not moving until he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. He held her cheek with care, pecking her lips a few more times before pulling away.

“Get some sleep, Y/N. For all I know you could be schemeing with all this kissing.” She chuckled and kissed him one last time before turning over and leaning into his chest. He kissed the back of her neck before wishing her sweet dreams.

~~~~~

Classes had finally ended for the semester, which meant Y/N was making plans to catch up on sleep. Yet, despite her wishes to stay in her dorm for the break, the boys offered for her to switch between their homes, saying that it would allow them to spend more time together, and, let’s face it, they all didn’t like going to sleep alone.

The first weekend, they all wanted to celebrate her successful school semester, and while they wanted to go out and party, she was perfectly content with ordering take out and being lazy on Alex’s sofa.

Y/N was spread out across John, face buried in his chest while he ran his hand up her back comfortingly. She was drifting in and out of consciousness, startling between an explosion on the TV and Hercules loud laughter.

She was almost asleep when she felt John’s fingers begin to move across her spine. He had a pattern, going back and forth and up and down, almost like he was writing something. A couple minutes later she went to turn over so her face would be towards the cushion, before she figured out what he was writing.

“I love you, too,” Y/N mumbled, barely giving it a second thought before she knocked out completely.

John stared at her in shock, eyes wide and a blush across his cheeks. Even though the volume was loud, the other boys could hear her clearly, looking over in amusement, shock and adoration.

John swallowed and embraced Y/N, nuzzling into her neck and smiling as she snored.

Let me know if you want to be tagged!!!!

@dontblinkumightmiss @wwaywardwinchester

[thecomposerofstories]

Information on Amy.

(Be warned it's a ~little bit~ long, any other pieces of information you want to know I'll gladly answer if you ask.)

~General Information~

Fandom: Toy Story.

Name: Amy the Ragdoll.

Nickname, if any: Amy, Ames, and Doll-Face(usually by more villainous characters or used in a joking manner).

Gender: Female.

Sexuality: ??? (I mean I know the gender of who she has a crush on, but I'm unsure on what her actual sexuality should be tbh)

Age: Mentally, mid-twenties in the first story second movie, thirties to forties in the third and fourth. Physically, she doesn’t have an age, but in regards to when she was made (the 1950’s) makes her fifty to sixty.

City they currently live in: San Francisco, apparently that’s where Toy Story takes place.

Any pets: Would Rex count? He just follows her around like a nervous puppy.

Current occupation: I mean she’s practically a therapist, but she’s a toy and she only treats Rex so it probably doesn’t count lol

~Physical Appearance~

Height: 10 inches.

Body type: Stocky, but a bit gangly too, similar to Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

Eye colour: Black.

Skin tone: Light.

Clothing style: Pale green/turquoise shirt with short puffed sleeves, with a denim dungaree dress with a daisy print in the centre over it. She wears yellow rain boots.

Hairstyle: No style, it’s just there. It’s messy and gets in her face easily and is made out of dark brown thin string.

~Speech/Language/Communication~

Amy speaks quietly and politely, rambles a bit if left without a reply or under pressure, very nervous in front of intimidating characters.

First language: English.

Learned languages: A bit of Spanish (Ya’ll remember Toy Story 3!)

Accent: American.

Pitch of voice: High, but soft, not quite annoying, unless she’s stressed, then it gets very pitchy and shrill.

~Behaviour/Habits~

Amy tends to just stand there when she can’t find anything to do, and will immediately try to find Rex, Hamm, Buzz or Jessie if surrounded by strangers (Though she’s not sure if it’s for their comfort or her own) Amy is very polite.

Spending habits: She doesn’t like to be made a fuss of at all, the very fact of someone giving something to her is unnerving (even if the thing never costed anything at all) and she feels compelled to give the giver something in return.

Morning routine: She gets up same time as the others, but wishes she could stay in bed a bit longer though. Before she came to Andy’s room, her sleep pattern was all over the place.

Bedtime routine: Similar to above, now she goes to bed the same time as the others, but before she just slept and got up willy-nilly.

Nervous habits: Amy will try to find Rex if she’s nervous, and she’ll pretend it’s because she’s worried for him, which is quite true, but she also just feels most safe with him. Speaking of, Amy will let Rex hold her hand and squish it whenever he or Amy is nervous, it’s calming to the both of them.

Bad habits: Not a very good exerciser, but then again, she’s spend basically half her life in a small attic, so I’ll give her a break.

Skills/talents: She’ very logical, mind-over-matter, (mostly, very good at calming others down and/or convincing them. She’s very good at spelling and knows quite a lot of words, some of which others haven’t even heard of.

Hobbies: Reading, talking (especially with Rex, Jessie or Hamm), and generally just lazing about or walking around somewhere, on her own or with a friend.

~The Past~

Amy’s first owner was a little girl called Alice. Alice loved nothing more than to read Amy stories (Mostly fairy tales), but of course, Alice grew up like all kids do, and she left Amy in the attic for someone else to have her.

Amy waited for many years, and all that time she’d never given up that someone would find her.

She thought she’s hit the jackpot when Andy and his family move into Alice’s old house, but they don’t go up into the attic to collect her. Some weeks later, though, Andy’s mother brings a set of boxes filled with junk into the attic and leaves. Woody, Buzz, Slinky, and Rex were trapped in one of the boxes (Call me a cheater but this part was actually inspired by a Toy Story comic, where those four toys get stuck in the attic that way and have to escape. It struck me odd that they never met at least one new friend there, so I made one. It was also my first story, I needed some inspiration!)

Amy, in a fit of panic, goes and hides.

But then she’s found by Rex as he and the others try to find a way out.

They then decide to let the strange, dust-covered ragdoll come back to Andy’s rom with them. (well, Rex did, anyway.)

Home town: Would Alice’s old room count? But it’s now Andy’s Room, so it won’t count will it?

Happy or sad childhood: Pretty normal to be honest, as normal a life as a toy could have anyway. And as for sadness, having spent all that time on her own for all those years, having missed out on so much, is a little sad. But Amy made sure she never became bitter over it or used it as an excuse for anything.

Earliest memory: Waking up in her toy store, with a friend of hers for company (a ragdoll Prospector, a much as she remembers) and as she gets bought by Alice’s Auntie, she says she hopes he gets picked up by a kid. (Unbeknownst to her, she would meet him again in a while to find out he never got to experience it)

Saddest memory: One, being left by Alice, yet being so happy for her and how much she’s grown up, if she could cry tears of joy for her owner, she would. Two, some (or most) of the days she spent waiting for a new owner to arrive. And three, watching Rex have a mental breakdown of anxiety.

Happiest memory: One, the time she and Alice went to the park, (Amy absolutely adores nature) Two after sliding down a drainpipe to get to Andy’s room, and three, having known she’d helped her friend out.

Significant events: Being bought, being left in an attic, being rescued from the attic, while gaining some new friends.

~Family~

The entirety of Andy’s room, whether they like it or not, they’re all in this together and are some kind of mish-mash, found family in a sense.

Siblings: I’ve been thinking of giving Amy a brother (since I based her on Raggedy Ann, a matching bootleg Raggedy Andy seems reasonable) bur I’m unsure about it, since I’ve already mapped out Amy’s entire series of stories (Around six or seven all together, so far I’m currently writing only the third) and I can only fit him in the fifth or sixth if I can.

~Relationships~

Romantically? I’d like to say she has a crush on Rex, I don’t know why I thought of it, I was contemplating it one day as I sketched a rough (and terrible) sketch of her, and I drew Rex too because he’s just so fun to draw and I wanted to make a scale for Amy’s size, and one of my friends (who had been watching me) immediately said “I ship it!” and well, the rest is history, I made the decision to ship it too.

Friends: Jessie, Hamm, Buzz, and Rex are her closet friends, but she’d like to say that all the Gang are her friends. Later on she becomes good friends with Mr. Prickle Pants, Buttercup, Trixie and Totoro, and she absolutely loves the peas and Forky.

Best friend(s): Hamm, Mr. Prickle Pants, Jessie, and Rex.

What do people like about them? Amy’s pretty easy to talk to, she’s polite and attentive and will sit in companionable silence with someone if they need it. But she won’t hesitate to give hard truths and advice if it’s needed.

What do people dislike about them? Amy is quite a doormat, if someone is rude to her or breaches anything she just lets it happen, and sometimes she’s too indecisive about her own stuff, unsure whether she’s going to offend others or not over the smallest things, which annoys others quite a bit.

~Mentality/Personal Beliefs~

Amy is a toy of logic, and though she believes others can do it if they set their minds to it, she doesn’t quite believe in herself. She believes she must follow the rules of being a toy at all times, no matter what.

Phobias: Dust. She hates it. It took a good five weeks to brush all the dust out her hair and clothes, and even so there’s still some in her pockets and places she can’t reach. And being alone, too. Now she can’t be alone for more than an hour before she starts to get antsy and nervous. And for a short time books gave her a strange tiredness, after reading them for so long and for so many years she couldn’t even stand the sight of them.

But of course, not for long, since Amy found out Andy had a copy of Red’s Dream by a Mr. William Reeves.

Optimist or pessimist: Depends on the situation really, if her mind can’t come up with a solution, then there’s no point in trying anymore. Unless someone else can think of something, that is.

Personal philosophies: “You are here to make good things happen. No person here is made for one reason only, or even only one. There’s no point in pretending to be someone you’re not just for the attention of others, no matter how cool they are. We should find are own meaning, as we’re the only ones who have control of it.

It’ll take a while, but I swear, it’ll be worth it.”

Biggest dream/wish: Amy wants nothing more than to find meaning for herself, but finds it rather hard to do so. Of course, that doesn’t mean she’ll settle for someone else’s meaning. As cheesy as it sounds, she just wants an adventure. She doesn’t necessarily want to be the hero, though, she’s just happy to go along with the ride so long as it gets her out the house for a few hours. She also, above all else, wants Rex to find meaning too, even if she never does, it would be nice to know that he had.

Greatest strength(s): Persuasion, story-telling, logic, and good grammar.

Biggest flaw: Despite being a ragdoll, Amy can’t sew because of her fingerless hands, which are just soft mittens in shape. Amy is also quite a doormat, as I said before, so if her calm persuasion and reasoning doesn’t work, she’s left to be walked all over.

Regrets: Staying in that dratted attic too long, the window was open, she could’ve just climbed out, but no, she had to stay there for some mind-rotting decades. But if she had just escaped, she would never have met her new friends. Amy just wishes she had met them a lot sooner.

Achievements: Escaped the attic, slid down a drainpipe, leapt onto the windowsill (though nearly knocking Woody and Buzz over in the process) stopped her friend from having a panic attack, and managed to remember the entire Dictionary and is able to recite it down from A to Z, and even Z to A.

Secrets: Not much, just strange feelings for one of her friends, but it’s not much of a secret, Bo knows, and Mr. Potato Head and Hamm could see it from a mile away, and the others have their suspicions.

Goals: Read the entirety of Andy’s (and later Bonnie’s) bookshelves, become more confident in herself, have her own book-worthy adventure, and figure out what those strange feelings for her friend is.

~Likes/Favourites~

Favourite colour: Even before meeting Rex, Amy’s favourite colour was always green. Every time Alice had taken her to the park, Amy adored watching the sunlight pour through the leaves with a golden-green glow.

Favourite book(s): Because it’s sentimental to her, being her owner’s favourites, she loves Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Peter Pan, and The Wizard of Oz. They all hold similar plots (a little girl in a blue dress goes to a fantasy land, has a few adventures, and then leaves said fantasy land to go home to her family and responsibilities) but it reminds Amy of her old owner Alice (who was actually named after Alice from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland) and their playtimes together.

Favourite Book Quotation(s):

“Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises.”

“There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The true courage is facing danger when you are afraid.”

Favourite movie: Amy does much prefer books, since they allow her to imagine the setting and characters in her own way, but doesn’t mind movies, and isn’t picky on what they watch, though she does quite like horror films.

Favourite song: Amy likes any kind of music, new or old.

Favourite game: Amy never really cared for games, the competitiveness always bothered her and stressed her out. But she’s more than happy to watch Rex play his video games and cheer him on.

~Relationships with other characters~

~Rex~

- Hit it off pretty quickly.

- Amy helps him with his anxiety, and helps him find confidence in himself, she acts as a certain therapist to him.

- Both become very stressed without the other around.

- Rex will hold and knead at Amy’s hands sometimes; it calms him down.

- Rex will let Amy ride on his back if she’s tired or needs to see something (Because she’s so short).

- One of them can basically be talking about the most boring-est things ever, yet still the other will hang on to their every word.

~Jessie~

- Became friends pretty quickly.

- Will drag Amy along anywhere.

- Get along fairly well.

- Jessie does the talking and Amy does the planning.

- Jessie always pranks the other toys and makes Amy tag along (along with Hamm).

- Introvert/Extrovert dynamic for sure.

- Both were left in alone for years so like to find solace in each other.

~Hamm~

- Hamm begrudgingly warmed up to the timorous ragdoll.

- Surprisingly good pals.

- Have full conversations without saying anything.

- Like to sit and look out of the window together.

- Hamm makes Amy laugh when she really shouldn’t (mainly when he makes fun of the other toys, mainly Woody).

- Hamm makes fun of Amy having a crush on Rex every once in a while, though he doesn’t mean any harm.

~The Potato Heads~

- Mr. doesn’t really interact with Amy much, but finds her surprisingly tolerable, if a bit high-strung and annoying.

- Like Hamm, Mr. makes Amy laugh at the most wrong moments.

- She and Mrs. Are quite good friends, and she sometimes lets Amy take care of the aliens if she and her husband are busy.

~Woody~

- Are aquianteces.

- Don’t exactly interact much, even though the whole room practically revolves around him, in Amy’s opinion, though she would never say it to his face.

~Buzz~

- Amy thinks he’s super cool (then again, he is Buzz Lightyear, he practically invented coolness)

- Both are just as clueless as one another when it comes to social cues and interactions.

- Amy helps him with vocabulary and spelling every once in a while.

~Mr. Prickle Pants~

- Are absolute BFF’s.

- Go back and forth with book quotes to the point of driving the other toys insane.

~Bo Peep~

- Amy's not exactly sure if Bo has befriended her or not.

- (She has)

- They later become good friends.

- Amy misses their talks, Bo was one of the only toys she could talk to that could keep a secret.

[westerhos]

Our Story: Chapter One

Life has been running a mile a minute and I feel like it’s been a century since I’ve contributed to ~Outlander fandom/fic discourse~. So! To get back into the swing of things, I’m going to re-post an old AU of mine: Our Story (shout out to @gotham-ruaidh​ for giving me the courage).

I’ve chosen this one because A) I’m proud of it; it’s the only multi-chapter fic I’ve ever finished, but also B) it’s basically a timeline of my first year in NYC, which will (maybe?) make for some interesting commentary. I’ll post a chapter every other day and include my self-indulgent author notes at the bottom (songs, anecdotes, whatever dumb shit I come up with).

Yes, you can read the entire fic on Ao3 . . . but what’s the fun in that? ;)

Chapter 1

[December 24th, 1989]

It is the beginning of their story, the first time Jamie sees her. The dividing line between 'what was' and 'what would be.' The setting is a Christmas party: an Edinburgh flat, roaring on the cusp of a new decade. Champagne bubbles float in flutes and greetings. 

The players are just two university students, dancing across a stage of shaggy green carpet. Garlands of tinsel trip their feet.

And the opening scene? Well. It goes something like this:

She is wearing a holiday sweater, a confection of silver bells and sequined penguins. It is the hard-won earnings of an hour’s wade through mothballs, she says, of a knee-deep dive in a charity shop bargain bin. All of this she relays to Jamie with a smirk, a precocious, all-knowing smile that he will come to know so well.

The lights dim, and her eyes flicker. Lit coals in the flat’s half-dark. She smells of fresh rain, of flowers just beginning to open, and the scent forms a sweet, perceptible weight in the air. It settles on him, around him, when she leans forward, straining to hear his stuttered—

“Hello,” Jamie says, or tries to. He forgets his vowels and it comes as, “Hlllll?”

“Sorry, what was that?”

Claire starts when his hand takes hers, crunches it firmly inside his palm. For Claire, this moment will never lose its clarity, and in the years that follow she will argue that this is where their story begins: nestled in the slight curl of Jamie’s lips; his voice, as smooth as the whisky he offers to pour her; another ugly sweater, this one boasting a lager-stained Santa and a hem of unraveling wool. The red string hangs there for her to tug and close the gulf between them, and she does. Twenty one (him) and twenty two (her) years of strangerhood reduced to nothing—and then, so suddenly, transformed into knowing.

They make small talk in the corner, mentioning the weather (“seasonably cold”) and her biology exam (“after break”). Eventually Claire asks, “Do you know anyone here?”, and bracketed inside this question is her secret hope that he does not. She wants to believe that Jamie is on her side, that it is only the two of them (it has only ever been the two of them) against the world. She is so used to feeling alone in crowds—but here! Oh, but here in the rainbow glow of tree lights, she feels a part of Something. She holds onto it, wishing her hand was as big as his so that his curling lips and his whisky voice would never seep through her fingers.

“Dinna ken anyone,” Jamie confirms, “though I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.”

He inclines his head towards the mass of bodies, all gyrating in a singular, chaotic wave. Music plays in the background, oppressive and electronic, as a third year belts Bowie between tokes. Jamie lets it fade away, forgets it all—the noise, how to blink, how to breathe. Forgets everything except her.

Claire wrinkles her nose.

“The problem with these people is that they think they’re interesting.” She is yelling into his ear but even so, it seems strangely intimate. Every word exchanged is a secret between them, one they tuck inside their pockets, will place under their pillows when they lay their heads to sleep. “But they aren’t. Not even remotely!”

“Weel, fortunately you’ve met me now.”

“Mmm. But are you truly interesting or only remotely?”

“That’s for you to decide, lass. You being the expert on such things.”

Claire grins at the floor. “You haven’t even told me your name, y’know.”

“James Fraser,” he says, all too quickly, and he’s unreasonably embarrassed. James, he thinks. How many ‘James’ were in this very room, wearing equally hideous and soiled sweaters? How many ‘James’ had she met in Scotland? Would she even remember him, one of 337 (to be precise), after this night? (She would, of course. During her biology exam, she will think of James Fraser and leave fifteen questions blank. She will get a C—a grade as average as his name.)

“But you can call me Jamie,” he adds over the roar.

“I’m Claire Beauchamp. Just plain Claire Beauchamp!”

And Jamie laughs—a beautiful laugh, the best laugh, a laugh Claire will spend the rest of her life wanting to hear (she will have to work harder on certain days).

“If I call ye anything, it’ll be ‘Sassenach’. Whereabouts in England are ye from?”

And Claire smiles—a beautiful smile, the best smile, a smile Jamie will spend the rest of his life trying to earn (finding success and failure in turns).

“Oxford by birth,” Claire says. “But from nowhere, really.”

She pauses, hearing the third-year shout, “Bowie, man! Greatest artist of all time!” and swears the kid is wrong. It’s God who was the greatest artist, and this six-foot deity with his lager-stained knit was his chef d’ouevre.

“Do you want to make this night interesting, Jamie?”

“Remotely interesting?”

“More than remotely.”

“That depends. What d’ye have in mind?”

Claire reaches for his hand, and he gives it to her. Jamie squeezes; she squeezes back. She leads him through the throng. He follows, licking his lips and at her heels.

(Who knew it could ever be this easy? Falling in love.)

Note: I started this fic with a variation of the last line (“Who knew how easy it was to fall in love?”) and worked my way backwards. I only had a vague idea of what I wanted to write: a cross between Lauren Groff’s Fates and Furies, David Nicholls’ One Day, and the movie Blue Jay. Ah, ambition! I ultimately veered away from the last one, but leaned very heavily on Fates and Furies (more on that later) and stuck to One Day’s idea of tracking a relationship over the course of multiple decades. I thought I could do this in a couple of chapters, but after I wrote this opener—in the middle of the night; anxious as fuck because I was a one week away from moving to New York (also more on that later)—I chucked my original five-chapter outline. Still had no idea where I was going with it though.

In retrospect, I like this chapter as a whole, although I realize Jamie/Claire sound like pretentious snobs (the result of my Fates and Furies obsession!) and wish I carried the red string image throughout the rest of the story.

[c-c-cherry]

Bucci Gang Headcanons!!!

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

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

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One time Narancia and Mista brought home a dog from the streets and mama Bruno was like “NOPE” and zipped himself out of existence.

Abbacchio found him locked in the closet under the stairs when he got home and made them get rid of it.

Leone was more of a cat person anyway.

Abbacchio eats raw pasta.

Fugo plays chess with himself. When Giorno joins the team he’s like “ugh finally an intellectual” but Giorno has literally never seen a fucking chess board in his life and is too scared to tell Fugo so he just keeps making up excuses as to why he doesn’t “have time” to play chess with him today.

Mista doesn’t shower but he has a BOMB-ass face-care routine. Even Trish is jealous. His face? Baby soft? Ten out of ten. The rest of him? Axe body spray out of ten.

Narancia went through a goth phase pre-canon. Abbacchio was not happy because Bruno kept referring to him as “little Abba” but he let Narancia use his good lipstick anyway.

Mista found his special hat in a street gutter on a rainy day and it matched his sweater so he decided to just keep it. Abbacchio does Trish’s makeup. They go to Sephora together. I don’t make the rules.

Giorno never really told anyone (besides Bruno) that he got his stand naturally so they all assume he got it from Polpo’s lighter and when he mentioned something off-hand about “when I was a kid Gold and I…” everyone’s just like “bitch hold up-”

Abbacchio wears coloured contacts and his ass literally cannot see without them. 

Yes they are expensive as fuck. He blows half his pay-check on them every month. 

One time he lost them right before a mission so he had to pull out his heavy prescription glasses from like 8th grade. They literally looked like this.

I think you can imagine the outcome

Growing up, Giorno only listened to three songs. 

The only reason he had access to these songs was because he found a really old Walkman on the side of the road when he was wandering around once. The tape only had three songs on it; Dancing Queen, It's Raining Men, and some song by Mozart. These were the three songs of Giorno’s childhood. 

He still has it and likes to listen to the tape when he gets sad

Narancia doesn’t know what a period is. Neither does Mista. 

Bruno forces everyone into the living room after overhearing this and makes them all watch one of those really awkward sex-ed videos from the 90s (you know the ones)

It was one of the worst days of their lives

They still have the tape and Narancia sometimes slips it in the VHS player when they all least expect it just to fuck with everyone

Bruno once held a capo meeting at their house (biggest mistake of his life) and all you could heard blasting through the walls of the other room was “YoUr bOdy MiGht Be gOiNg tHrOuGh sOmE cHaNgEs, fOr eXaMpLe yOuR P-”

On that note, Giorno was definitely that one kid who took notes during Sex-Ed

Abbacchio listens to Avril Lavigne

Giorno shaves his arms. It kind of started by accident but now he literally cannot stop or else his arms will look completely fucked up

Bruno has sensitive teeth. He can’t drink water that’s too cold cause it hurts his mouth. Abbacchio makes him tea :)

Fugo plays piano to help him with his anger. He would say that he plays saxophone too, but it’s more like violently screeching into the mouthpiece instead of actually playing it.

Narancia thinks that lesbian is a nationality

Even though Giorno lived in Japan for just a couple years, he’s still pretty fluent in the language because his mother would only speak Japanese to him growing up

The gang has no idea that Giorno is Japanese and when a foreigner is struggling Giorno just swoops in with perfect Japanese and they’re all just really confused.

Giorno doesn’t cry during movies or TV shows, but he’s one of those people who fucking BAWLS during video game credits

Mista and Narancia beat Ocarina of Time together and Giorno was watching from the sidelines and AS SOON as the credits started rolling there were tears.

When KK Slider starts to sing in Animal Crossing New Horizons and your character is brought into a music void and the credits start rolling he tears up just a little bit

Mista is squeamish around dead bugs. Not live ones. Dead ones and solely dead ones

Mista and Trish go thrifting. Mista goes to check the pockets of clothes for spare cash (cause he’s a broke bitch) and Trish goes to buy clothes

Everyone thinks that Mista doesn’t change his clothes but he actually just buys like 7 of the same outfit

Mista sneezes like a white sports dad. You know the sneeze.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Bonus Bruabba shit because Jade and I always go fucking HARD when talking about our local mafia dads:

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Bruno ties up the little strings on Abbacchio’s tiddy shirt every morning.

They got promise rings. Leone’s trying to find a nice time to actually propose but the gang keeps fucking it up every time they try to go on a nice date together

Bruno and Leone watch thunderstorms together

-The rest of the bucci gang stay inside and play monopoly or something when’s its stormy but these two bring out blankets and sit on the front porch and just be all soft and shit watching the lightning light up the sky and listening to the rain on the roof above them.

Bucciarati and Abbacchio have been mistaken as the following: 

Bruno as a woman and Abbacchio as a man. Abbacchio as a woman and Bruno as a man. Two lesbians. But never an actual gay couple.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Yeah so I have no idea what that was. These were taken from a google doc we have together that’s just all these jumbled, crack-filled headcanons just for fun. I’m sure you can sense the pure chaos in this. 

Go give my dude @jjadegreen a hello, sis made most of these!

uhhh let us know if you want any more from any other parts. Cause y’all know we probably got some. <3

[peeterparkr]

OMG FINALLY! Dick Grayson one where his bff who he’s in love with is attacked by some guys in an alley and he saves her but is so worried that he removes his mask without thinking etc ... you can do whatever you like with it really! Xxx

omg I don’t know how this came out of that but I hope you like it! This is literally my first time writing for him so pls be kind. I’m sorry it sucks

warnings: assault, fighting, probably swearing. 

word count: 2k idk HOW

My hero. Dick Grayson x Reader

Gotham was a handful. Never safe. You’d always walk around fearing your life. But at some point you didn’t want to be that way. You always tried to prove everyone wrong. You could take care of yourself, and most times, you did. But whenever someone would tell you to take care, you’d get mad. It was— stupid, maybe.

Maybe Dick Grayson was who you were trying to prove. Maybe. Your best friend who’d become a bit of an asshole lately. You’d grown up and grown apart with that. Maybe it was because of his new life. 

You missed him at Haly’s. But of course, he wouldn’t miss you. As if he’d love to have the life you had by now. Life in your 20′s still working for a circus and now your second gig as a waitress in a bar. It wasn’t that bad. 

Millionaire Grayson, that’s how your old friends used to call him. Everyone who ever knew him would call him that. You didn’t. You knew Dickie became distant for other reasons. He wouldn’t tell you which, but he had them. 

He wasn’t that distant to you. You’d see him every now and then. There were a lot of things to Dick Grayson that you’d keep to yourself. Like being your first kiss, first love. First broken heart. And you remembered the first kiss, you were young, stupid. And he had saved you from falling down the trapeze. 

‘My hero’ you had said and without a warning you had kissed him. 

Ah, and without a warning, years later he’d broken your heart. 

That’s when you drifted apart from him. But he’d come back every now and then, if he ever gave himself time to visit you. Sometimes he’d visit Haly’s to say hello after a show.

But he had left Gotham, and with that, he had also left you. 

You didn’t expect to see Dick Grayson walking into that filthy bar you worked at, one would think you’d see him at fancier places, or not at Gotham at all. But there he was with a black coat, soaking from the rain. 

You felt your stomach hop as you saw him. His dark eyes searching the room. You knew he probably was there because of you. From time to time you’d talk, text, and you had told him you’d work there now. 

“Hey angel, bring me another beer,” one very drunken guy told you. You rolled your eyes as you walked over to get it. 

Dick sat by the counter, alone. You walked past him. “Grayson,” you greeted him. It was weird, seeing him like this.

“Y/N,” he smiled. “Uh, I was just around the neighbourhood and uh-“

“No, you weren’t,” you chuckled. He couldn’t lie to you. You knew he’d come to say hi.

He blushed. “No—but I thought- I’d say hi.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s… it’s nice to see you, how have you been?” You blushed yourself.

“I’m good, I—I well-“

“Hey, angel, my beer, sweetheart, give that pair of legs a good use!” The asshole yelled.

You closed your eyes. “Duty calls.”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Dick warned them. 

“Or what, pretty boy? What you’re gonna do? Throw your fancy coat at me?” The guy laughed.

Dick quickly stood up and stormed to them. 

“Dick, dick,” you said, standing in front of him. “I can handle them myself.” 

“Oh, you’re a Dick,” the guy mocked. 

Dick rolled his eyes. “Really funny, haven’t heard that one.” 

Dick stepped in but you pushed him back. “Please, Dick, not tonight, we’ll catch up some other time, okay? Please, it’s alright..” 

“Y/N-” 

“I can take care of myself, Dick,” you pushed. 

“We just called her an angel, suits her, anyway,” The bearded guy continued.

Dick glanced at you and opened his mouth. 

“Please, don’t make a scene,” you begged him under your breath. You brought the guy his beer. 

“Thank you angel,” he grinned as he basically undressed you with his sight. 

“You better leave soon,” Dick warned them again standing in front of you , and they laughed. 

“Dickie, please,” you begged him again, knowing damn well your boss wouldn’t like someone defending you. He was a bigger jerk than this guy. 

Dick sighed and sat back down. You kept waitressing for a while, ignoring Dick’s stare. Always protective.  

“Bye angel,” the man said to you before leaving. You stepped back and gulped. You decided to switch position with the bartender. 

“You know I could get you a better job than this,” Dick intruded. “I—Bruce has several places where you could work at, I’m sure I could find you a spot somewhere.”

“Always helping, Dickie,” you shrugged. “I’m doing alright.”

“I—yeah, but—“

“I don’t want any sympathy, Dickie,” you told him. “It’s alright. I can take care of myself.” 

“I just thought it could be so we can see each other more, like old times,” he pointed out. “We’re not kids anymore, are we?” He chuckled.

“Not really,” you smiled. “But we belong to different worlds, that’s okay. You deserved it, the fancy life—after what happened.”

Dick gulped and looked away.

“What do you do now, Dick?”

“Here and there,” Dick shrugged. “Complicated.”

You smiled. “They miss you, you know, everyone at Haly’s.”

“Everyone?”

“Mostly everyone.” You took a deep breath. You did miss him. 

He sighed. “Yeah, I miss… I miss you too–I mean, I miss them,” he cleared his throat. “I miss them, too.” 

You smiled to yourself as you turned to other customers. You were supposed to be waitressing. 

“You shouldn’t be in a place like this,” Dick told you. He was probably right. But you hated when he got all protective on you, it’s not like he cared, anyway. 

“I can take care of myself,” You reminded him. “It’s no better than any other place here in Gotham.” He knew you were right. “Besides, if something were to happen, I’d like to see one of those heroes get in here, they don’t really care about people like us.” 

Dick stared at you. “How so?” 

You chuckled dryly. “I don’t know, I don’t know,” you looked at him. “Or at least… Not the new Robin one. The old one, he… he really helped me out sometimes.” 

Dick took a sip from his beer. “He… he did?” 

“Yeah, it was weird, it’s been for a long time, Clay said Robin was my guardian angel,” you chuckled. “But you know how he is,” you smiled, looking down. “Haven’t seen him in a while, though. And guess Batman never gets to this part.” 

Dick sighed, as he looked away. “Have you… have you needed help?” 

“No, as I told you, I take care of myself,” you said. “You look different,” you pointed out. “Heard you left to Detroit.” 

He nodded. 

“What brought you back to this hell place?” You questioned him. “Anyone who gets a chance to leave Gotham should never come back.” 

Dick looked at you. “Unsolved business.” 

You clicked your tongue. “Well, hope you solve them quickly.” 

He grinned. 

“So… uh, how about we… we go out for dinner after you’re out or-?”

“Y/N, need you to take out the trash,” your boss came in. “And bring in more ice.” 

You nodded. “I’ll… see you in a bit,” you excused yourself as you went to do as told. The old bar had an exit to the alley, where’d you take out the trash. It was dark and you never liked going there. You knew that you being sent there was a punishment of sorts, your boss liked to see you as a way men would buy alcohol if they ever spoke to you, however since Dick only had had one beer in his hand, it meant you’d failed at your job. Very indecent and degrading, really. 

But you did as so, you took out the trash, it was still raining, and sadly, you were not alone. As soon as you had walked into the alley, there were men waiting for you. You tried to ignore them, but they closed the door for the bar. You tried to hide your shivering as they whistled. 

“Look what we got here, it’s the angel,” The voice said, and you turned to see the bearded guy from before, his odour could be smelled from where you were standing, throwing away the trash. 

You frowned and ignored them, trying to get back into the bar. 

“Oh no, no, you don’t have your pretty boy to help you here,” he laughed. “C’mon angel.” 

You tried to walk past him but he was surrounded by the other three that were once in the bar. 

“I need to go back,” you said, firmly and tried pushing your way through. 

“I don’t think so my angel,” the guy said. You feared everything and you knew this was too late. “And that was a wrong move,” he said, taking your arms and pulling you to him. You felt more hands on your body. 

You screamed as loud as you could and tried to kick your way out but the other three surrounded you, the guy covered your mouth. 

“Now, you’re going to cooperate, alright, you listen to this,” the guy hissed at you. You kicked him again and he pushed you against the wall. “Stop, now.” 

You saw it as a lost battle. But before you could feel or see the worst, a shadow had appeared from the roof. 

“Leave her alone,” the shadow warned and jumped right behind him, and then you covered yourself. The shadow kicked down the drunk horrendous guy as he easily took down the other three guys, fighting against them with no difficulty as he threw punches and kicked them to the ground. He kept punching them and you knew this was Robin. Even with the rain, you saw him. 

He was Robin. The Robin you once knew, the one who had protected you before, not the new, young one with crazy hair. This was your Robin. 

You fell to the ground, scared, as you saw now the four guys that were just surrounding you and touching you. You let out a sob, but Robin kneeled by you. 

“Y/N, y/n, are you–are you okay?” Robin asked, and you looked up. And saw him, his eyes. His dark eyes. He had taken off the mask

“I–” 

“It’s okay, you’re okay, they can’t hurt you.” 

“Dick.” That was the only thing you’d managed to say. He panicked. 

“What–?” 

“You…” You cleared your throat. “Your mask.” 

He saw his hand, he had taken off his mask. “I’m… I’m… shit,” he sighed, “I’m not a monster. I swear.. This… this is the reason why I left Gotham,” he admitted as he looked at the passed out men. “You must think I’m a monster.” 

“I never said you were,” you whispered as you watched him, cupping his face. “You… It was you who was protecting me.” 

He nodded. “I never really left you, back then” 

“No, I guess you didn’t,” you admitted. “But then you did.” 

He looked at you. “Are you… are you okay?” He asked, helping you stand up. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you cleared your throat. “Guess I can’t… really take care of myself after all. But I guess I don’t… have to,” you coughed. “Thank you,” you said, kissing his cheek. 

He put on his mask again. “Yeah.” 

You stayed there, under the rain, watching him. Expectant of everything and of nothing at the same time. “Not only for tonight,” you pushed. “But for… always keeping an eye on me.” It was like you were transported to when you were younger and you’d stand in front of him, all childish and nervous. 

He looked away. “Yeah, yeah–Look,, I’m… I’m not proud of whom I’ve become that’s why…” 

You shook your head, taking his arm. “I don’t care, you’re always going to be Dickie for me,” you whispered as he got closer. “You always had it, the hero type.” 

“I’m not sure if I could be called a hero,” he admitted. 

“You saved my life,” you shrugged. “My hero.” 

He bit his lip, and gulped. He remembered, and he understood it now. Without a warning, he leaned over to kiss you. And this time it was different. Maybe you’d grown up, but definitely, you hadn’t grown apart. 

this sucked

[mrs-i-have-too-many-biases]

Bang Chan// Sun and Moon (-light)// Chapter one

Summary: Sun and Moon, different from another, but both unmissable in the world. The sun is warm, it provides daylight. It represents life, strength and growth. The moon, the brightest and largest object in our night sky. It makes the earth more livable and represents admiration, change, mystery and feelings. The sun is untouchable and unreachable, but what if his ,independent, sun(-shine) becomes his world? Tropes: Enemies to Lovers Season: Spring Pairing: Bang Chan X Reader AU: | Delinquent!Female Reader | Vice President!Bang Chan | School!AU | Non!Idol AU | Genre: Fluff/ Angst Word Count: 6,9K Warnings: Themes of bullying, Themes of Abuse, swearing, insults, Requested: Yes (Reference) A/n: For the sake of the fiction, Chan is a twat in the story, but only for imagines purposes only. We all know better than that.

Christopher bang.

Or Bang Chan for those who are close to him. A young man who has the world in his hands. That’s how every one else would describe him. Chan was seen as the definition of perfect. Came from a well and wealthy family, had multiple medallions from the swimming competitions he had won as a child. Making him very well known around town and athletic as well. At school, mister perfect a top-class student and was the pride of the school. And because of that he became vice president. The teachers loved him and so did the students, but who wouldn’t Chan’s just so loveable.

Well, jokes on you because Y/n didn’t. 

She’s was known as a delinquent, a trouble maker or a bitch which was what most girls called her. She was mysterious and people didn’t seem to like that. She owns a motor, which she got in trouble for with school, since they didn’t want to allow it, but they couldn’t find a valuable reason for that. Y/n had tattoos decorating her arms, as far as people know. Some made rumours that she had her whole body tattooed and that she covered it up with foundation to look ‘decent’. For this reason Y/n got a bucket of water dunked over her head. In in her infortune, it rained that day so everyone made it seem like she got drenched because of that and not because of the delusional students sadly attended the school. Besides the students not liking Y/n, were the teachers also not very fond of her. Her grades were average and If not that it was below it. If they could send her off school they would’ve loved to.

Y/n would usually just ignore the comments and the stares and go on minding her own business. She would hang around with her ‘clique’, which were basically these outsider-kids who didn’t really had a standard circle of friends and found comfort in one another whenever they needed each other. Y/n was glad she was part of it, but yet again, those students found her quite intimidating. So most of Y/n’s days, she would sit outside, secretly smoking a cigarette whilst drawing away. She didn’t mind at all being alone, she actually quite liked it. I mean who wouldn’t prefer quite and sunlight over annoying comments and mean stares?

Anyways, besides Chan and Y/n being so different from one another, they had one thing in comment: they couldn’t get along. They never did and they probably never will. Y/n had always found Chan a stuck-up rich kid who was arrogant with his head up his ass. Chan never understood Y/n. She was always in defence and she never wanted to be close to anyone. They have known each other since kinder garden and the teachers back then already knew that the two of you weren’t destined to be around each other.

Sadly, the universe had other plans for the two of you, since you spend most of you time with each other at school. Ending up in the same classes, going to the same school, being paired up together for projects and just in general being around each other. She found him bossy, since he was the vice president, and she didn’t liked to be bossed around. This made her not interfere into his businesses. And so far, that plan went well and the universe hadn’t screwed with that plan, yet.

Since Chan was the vice president, she, as a delinquent, faced him a lot, especially in your senior year. When she had a bad grade, she would be told to go and see Chan and look for a way to get her grades up. She got into a fight, go to Chan. She would look at someone the wrong way, go to Chan. She would be quite and minding her own business in class, go to Chan. It drove both of them crazy, but they couldn’t fight the teachers, they really wanted to, but they couldn’t. Chan because of his reputation and Y/n as well, but her reason was more the kind of ‘they already don’t like me so whatever’ kind of reason.

She would get scolded and receive a scripted ‘motivational’ speech, after a while she would just stare at something behind him and look at the birds, completely ignoring his presents. When he would be done, she would just shrug and walk past him. With a sigh and an eye roll he would pack up his stuff and leave as well, getting tired of this shit. He didn’t wanted to waste his breath on another useless speech on her, since he knew that she wouldn’t even bother to listen. He was done with her attitude, she loved messing with him every now and then though.

When he had to ‘scold’ her in public she would start straight up flirting with him and he never knew how to feel about it. “Y/n, we need to talk about your grades.” He would say. “What’s up honey.” She would joke, making every girl snap their heads towards her, so they could glare at her. “I-I, you need to get your grades up.” Chan stuttered, taken back by the comment, as he looked down to his feet. “And I need you too look up here Champ, my eyes are up here you know.” She would smirk when she saw the boy turning a shade of bright red.

The girls would huff and sulk when the teacher walked in as they were about to attack Y/n for her boldness.

Y/n like messing with Chan to see if he would snap in front of the others one day. Yes, the idea was pretty mean, but she just couldn’t stand the whole act that he was pulling up, as if he was the only person in the world without flaws. She couldn’t deny that he wasn’t attractive, he was, but she couldn’t see herself falling for a smart ass like him. He wanted to be perfect, but she happened to know that no one was perfect.

Y/n had her music blasting through her earphones as she walked through the school. Her blouse not tucked into her jeans and her bag loosely hanging off her shoulder. A poker face was spread over her face as she stared into nothing, whilst making her way to class. There were cuts and bruises covering her body, making people whisper and stare at her as she passed them. She ignored the stares and filtered out the whispers with her favourite song overpowering the irrelevant voices.

She knows what they thought.

‘She must have fought someone again.’ ‘I bet she started it.’ ‘She looks like she would.’

When she arrived to her seat, she didn’t bother to take out her earphones as she mindlessly looked out of the window, blocking everyone around her out. Sometimes, people liked to try and mess with her, to see if she would actually snap.

“You are the proof that God has a sense of humour!” One of the guys would yell. “You only chance of getting laid is to move up a chicken’s butt and wait.” Another added, receiving a roaring laughter from the other. “I’m not saying I hate you, but I would plug out your life support to charge my phone!” A girl joined the insult party as well. “You know, I would insult you, but it looks like your face is one already by itself.” A voice, from a bitch name Sooyun, yelled. The whole class started to laugh and Y/n slowly, but intimidatingly, turned her head to the group of four. Blankly staring at them as she raised an unimpressed eyebrow, before taking out her earphones as it was almost time for the class to begin, also showing them that she wasn’t listening at all to their bullshit.

“Guys, don’t waste your breath on her. You know what happens.” Chan’s voice filled the room and Y/n saw him sit next to Sooyun whilst slyly smirking. Sooyun and Chan had known each other since freshman year, both of their parents were rich. And they actually lived from across another in a different apartment complex. Sooyun was an only child and absolutely spoiled rotten by her parents. She never really talked about it. She was a so called ‘humble brag’.

‘Oh, I’m sorry I’m late, someone blocked my tesla, I couldn’t leave.’

Just dumb things like that would make Y/n roll her eyes intensely and groan internally as she wanted to throw yourself out of the school window to get away from her. Everybody knew that she was head over heals for Chan. The rumour was going around that she even randomly showed up to his place to try and ‘hang out’. Everybody knew of Sooyun’s feelings towards Chan, except the man himself. He was absolutely oblivious to the fact that she had a fat crush on him. Through the years, Chan started to bleach his hair blonde. One day suddenly, Sooyun as well arrived to school with a new blonde hairdo that matched Chan’s.

Some of the students cringed, some supported the so called ‘ship’ and others like Y/n pitied the poor girl for her desperation.

Even though, Sooyun had her own clique of popular kids, who ‘always’ got her back, and loved to insult Y/n with new found comments they had probably gotten off reddit. They knew that Y/n wasn’t afraid to throw hands. So, when Y/n shot up from her seat after the insult party, she saw the group jump in panic and shot their glances to anywhere else but towards Y/n. She then would just calmly fix her shirt and jeans and sit back down with a slight smirk, hearing the huffs coming from Sooyun’s side of the class.

‘They always bark, but they never bite.’ Y/n thought to herself as she shook her head as the class started.

Later through the class, Y/n rolled her eyes when she saw Sooyun talking with the teacher who then later shot Y/n a worried expression. She knew what was about to happen. And there she was, after class, ‘listening’ to Chan’s useless rant on how she needed to lose her attitude.

“… just leave the girl alone Y/n.” Chan sighed, knowing she hadn’t heard half of the things he had just said to her.   “Who?” “Sooyun, who else?” Chan snapped, looking at her in annoyance. “How sweet, you’re protecting your little girlfriend.” She mocked with a pout playing on her lips. “She’s not my girlfriend.” He said in defence. “You tell her that.” Y/n muttered under her breath, before hearing Chan hum in confusion. “Just stop being so fucking annoying and get some grip on yourself. Just because you think you’re cool and mysterious, doesn’t make it people like you.” Chan groans in frustration because he knew that he wouldn’t get through her.

“Whatever.” Was all she said to him as she plugged her earphone back into her ear, the music already blasting for her as she walked pass Chan to exit the room. “Just stop wasting my time!” Chan yelled after her, but she was already out of sight.

Y/n walked into the District 9 Tattoo Parlour, being greeted by Hyunjin with a bright smile.

“Hey Y/n! Here for another appointment?” Hyunjin asked before he looked up to you. When he did, he was in shock to see all the bruises and cuts on your body. He looked at her worried and she assured her that she was fine. “Did you get into a fight or something?” He asked as he slightly inspected some of the wounds. “Yeah.” She lied. “Did you kick their ass?” He asked with a slight smirk. “Of course I did.” She added to the lie as Hyunjin laughed.

“I bet you’re here for Changbin, he’s still with a client but you can go back there.” Hyunjin smiles as he goes back to work. “Thanks Jinnie! Say hi to Kkami for me!” She smiles before she disappears after a door that lead to Changbin’s corner.

He had loads of neon led lights as decoration. The vibe was kind of like the nightlife, which Changbin was all in for, especially as an underground rapper. “Hi Binnie!” She cheered after she had announced her presence. “Hello there Dumpling.” Changbin smirked as he hugged her side, giving the man who he was inking a little break. “What did I say about that name.” She whined before she took a seat on the couch in the room. “Sorry. I meant steamed bun-“ “Bin!” “You love me.” He laughed before sending her a kissy face, receiving a groan from her and a roaring laughter of the man who was still waiting for the Changbin to finish the inky artwork. “You two sound like my wife and I and we’ve been married for almost twenty years.” The man laughs, but soon was cut off by a hiss as Changbin started to carve the skin again.

The two of them heard it a lot. They acted and looked like a couple and they usually were too lazy or hadn’t had the heart to break the news to a random elderly couple that the two of them weren’t dating. They would gush over their connection and your relationship. Friends and family knew better though, like Hyunjin. Even though he would still joke about the fact that the two of them should just date, he knew that there was nothing going on between Y/n and Changbin.

The pair met for the first time when Y/n came by to set a tattoo and pierce her ears for the first time. Hyunjin was the one who introduced her to Changbin since Hyunjin worked at a different shop at the time. He loved the vibe Changbin owned and eventually decided to work alongside from him. Changbin loved that she could have some banter with him and the rest was history.

Changbin had been her best friend for years now. He wasn’t someone who judged her based on her image. He loved that she had piercings and tattoos decorating your body. He placed almost all of the on her. He knew that she had a rough childhood. Her mother running away from her and her father, leaving Y/n with an alcoholic and abusive person who dared to call himself a father. Later on Y/n found out that her mother had passed away due to her own overuse of drugs. 

The news angered her father even more and he dared to blame it all on Y/n when he deep down knew that he was the blame. Y/n was stuck with him, wanting to leave him and stop all the pain he has caused her through the years. 

Throwing empty liquor bottles to her, causing it to shatter against the wall and shoot into her skin. Sometimes he would get the closest object and try to beat her to death. Y/n never laid a hand on him, because she wanted to be better than him. He could never say that she hit back.

Changbin had told her many times to go to the police, but she would say that they wouldn’t believe her until they had actual prove. Because they found out that Y/n did kickboxing and Taekwondo and they just thought that she was another girl who wanted to mess with her parents. It was very frustrating. At home she wasn’t allowed to enjoy anything, to study or to in general grow. Her father wanted her to suffer, to rot into a pit and just die. The words and the thought hurt her deeply, but she knew it was mainly the pain and the alcohol talking for him. So, instead of ditching on him, she tried to save up money to take her father to a clinic. It was a lot of money and she didn’t wanted Changbin’s money, he kept offering, but she just couldn’t accept it.

Therefore, she worked for it. She saved up every little cent and went on with her life. She couldn’t find a normal job, so Hyunjin and Changbin were sweet enough to offer her a small job at their parlour. She was told to clean up their mess, to bring them food or whatever when they were working on a tattoo for hours and basically keep everything together. It didn’t pay a lot, but it was enough for her to safe up.

They were amazed by Y/n’s dedication and kindness. She goes through so much pain every day, just so she could provide for herself and her father. She told them, after they asked her why she just wouldn’t take the money, that she saves the money up herself, because she didn’t wanted her father to think that she wanted him gone. Yes, he hurt her deeply, but she still loves him because he’s her dad.

They found her heart and mindset inspiring and were glad that they could help out at least a little bit.

When Y/n’s situation got worse, Changbin offered her to come and stay at his place for a while. She was shocked and scared at first. Changbin really was one of the first persons to ever act kindly to her in her years of suffering.

His parents were shocked and intimidated by her appearance, which she wasn’t surprised by. They didn’t expect a delinquent-looking girl when Changbin said that a female friend of his would be staying over. Changbin also was from a wealthy family. His parent were rich, there’s no way to go around it. They lived in an apartment that was four times bigger than her dump of a place that she managed to call home. His parents were scared that Y/n would be an influence on their son. Not a good one obviously, a bad one of course.

Fortunately after a while and weeks of getting to know Y/n, they found out that Y/n was a girl with dept. She wasn’t like the other girls their son used to bring home. They were out for money, Y/n was out for safety and comfort. The more they talked with Y/n the more they fell in love with her. They loved the way Y/n talked about the things she loved like music, writing and creative things in general. It was one of the many things that she and Changbin bonded over, besides the tattoos and piercings.

Changbin was relieved that his parents were openminded enough to see past both of their images and look deeper into a person and they luckily got to know the real Y/n.

She did decide to not tell them about her father’s situation. All they knew is that she loved fighting sports and that she got her bruises from that, which wasn’t a complete lie. Changbin loved working out with her. He would tease her by calling her hundreds of different nicknames, just to mess with her. He was surprised every time of her strength and at the fact that she never used gloves for kickboxing, giving her permanent bruises on her knuckles. She would laugh about it and joke that it would scare the dumb kids off at her school.

Speaking of school, Changbin dropped out, to pursue one of his dreams, to become a tattoo artist. Y/n had a conversation with him and his parents the other day about his future. Yes, not even her own, but about her best friend’s one. His parents were worried that their son was throwing away his life.

But Y/n got her friend’s back and told his parents patiently and politely, but fierce, that their son was doing something he loved, something he was good at and he made money out of it as well. Changbin was talented and making a career out of it. It wasn’t the first dream he had intended for himself. He wanted to become a rapper, but the same goes for that. He produces music, is really good at it and is even able to perform, in exchange for money of course, every now and then. He’s trying to make it at both fields and he’s really good at it! When his parents heard the enthusiasm that came from her about their son, they saw that she was right. And Changbin still couldn’t thank you enough, but they supported his wishes and dreams from that day on.

The next day at school Chan made his way to the homeroom and was greeted by his friends, Jisung, Felix and Minho. Jisung and Minho were two sassy and sarcastic dodos who loved to insult people for fun. It sounds really mean, but it they are actually quite nice if they like you. And everyone wanted the two to like them, because if they liked you, you could be a step closer to Chan. But the ultimate way to Chan’s heart was: getting close with his best friend Felix. Chan had the biggest soft spot for his fellow Aussie and he would do anything for him. He basically guided Felix through life. Chan loved his friends unconditionally though and besides that, he had known them for ages. Their parents themselves were childhood friends. And so the four grew up together.

Besides Chan having a soft spot for Felix, he was also very close with Jisung, he was one of his producing partners. Jisung was a genius when it came to song lyrics and he was great to work with and it made him, besides Chan, the second member of the producing group 3Racha. Changbin was Chan’s last friend to complete the producing team. He was also very close with him, but since the both of them lived different lives, they didn’t get that deep bond like Chan had with Felix and Jisung.

Chan was chatting away with his friends, when he was suddenly interrupted by the presence of Y/n who just walked into the classroom. She got a new version of detention, where she had to arrive to school early, about an hour and a half earlier than the common students. It was quite the punishment since she didn’t got a lot of sleep already at home. But it wasn’t like the school cared, she ‘did this to herself’.

Chan sighed to himself as he tried to carry on with his conversation with his friends about the upcoming sport tournaments, but the loud music coming from Y/n’s earphones were distracting them.

They started to yell unnecessary comments to her as a joke, Chan laughing along with them. He watched her pull out an earphone and lower her music for a second as she yelled back. “You guys are the reason why God invented the middle finger!” Felix had to hold back his laughter as Minho and Jisung froze in shock. They as well have known Y/n for a long time, but somehow, they keep forgetting that she throw amazing insults back.

“You little-“ “Mister Lee, you better stop that or else you will be send to the principal’s office.” The teacher interrupted him, making him sit back in his seat with a huff. “And you Miss Y/l/n, you’re already in trouble, don’t make it worse for yourself.” The teacher sighed as Y/n just rolled her eyes and put her earphone back in.

Through the day, Chan was usually surrounded by admirers, who were usually just girls, and boys, who were absolutely smitten for him and wanted to become closer to this popular, rich boy. They loved throwing themselves onto him. Especially when Chan had his famous swimming tournaments and basically was half-naked in front of their eyes. There was even a time that some girls jumped into the water to ‘celebrate’ Chan’s win with him. So Y/n has heard. They would kill something or someone to get just a second or two of Chan’s attention. It was very pathetic and Y/n knew it. Hell, some just wanted him to look at them.

Sooyun was one of those girls, what a surprise, I know right?

She usually got what she wanted, since she was spoiled rotten. And she wanted Chan, that was for sure and she wasn’t going to let anyone ruin that. She thought that every girl who came close to Chan was a threat and she wouldn’t hesitate to fight them or ruin their school lives. Yet she knew not to mess with Y/n, she wasn’t afraid to throw hands and she was very glad that Sooyun was aware of that as well.

Sooyun, being a small figured girl, knew deep inside that she wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight with Y/n. Someone who has been practicing kickboxing and Taekwondo for multiple years.

Everybody thought that Sooyun and Chan would make the perfect couple together. They’re both rich, good-looking, have amazing grades and come from well families. He was an athlete and she was a dancer and/or cheerleader, no one really knew. People just loved them together, they were the ‘couple’ of the school, even though they’ve never dated. Sooyun belonged to Chan and Chan belonged to Sooyun. It was ‘supposed’ to be that way and not in any other.

For some reason, people asked Y/n if it bothered her and she would be so confused up to this day why they would ask her that. Of course it didn’t bother her, she didn’t care. She didn’t wanted t interfere with Chan’s business or with him after all, she saw him so much already since he had to scold her every time. The only time she could clearly remember where she interfered into his life was when the two of them were younger, her asking if she could borrow his bucket to build a sandcastle. The kindergarten teachers back then already knew that the two of them wouldn’t get along, unless a miracle happened.

“I swear! Her face could scare the shit out of a fucking toilet!” Some kid yells through the hall to Y/n. She didn’t bother to look at them as she inspected her locker. “Hey Y/n! That triple chin is shaping up nicely!” “Y/n! You’re so fucking lucky that mirrors can’t talk! They would just fucking laugh at you!” Another one shouted. “Just fucking leave you twat!” Y/n was getting enough of the comments and slammed her locker shut. “Every time one of you speak, I feel like one of my braincells commits suicide.” She said coolly to them. “Oh that wouldn’t be a lot then since you’re already retarded.” “I might not be perfect, but luckily I’m not you.” She said with sarcasm toning her voice and smile.

“What did you just say?” One of the girls say who Y/n aimed the comment to. “You heard me.” Before Y/n knew it, a punch was thrown to her face and she was slammed into the locker. The other kids didn’t bother to help Y/n, instead they started to cheer onto the other girl who was violently pulling Y/n’s hair whilst trying to throw punches. Y/n held on to her hands as she was still pushed against the locker, trying to hold the girl back from her face. Until the two hear a teacher screamed for the pair to stop.

The girl was ripped away from Y/n and Y/n finally felt like she found breath since the girls hands made their way to her throat in the end. “Y/n! Principal’s office! Now!” The teacher roared in frustration. Y/n sighed because she knew what was happening: she was getting the blame, as usual. And why? Because she was a delinquent.

In the end of the day, she was back with Chan in front of her. She now was pressing a cloth against her lip to stop it from bleeding as she ‘listened’ to Chan’s rant. Chan noticed her bleeding lip and wild hair. He wanted to make a comment about it, but he somehow felt guilty and decided not to. He was quite confused and taken aback by the feeling, since he usually wasn’t bothered to insult Y/n a little. “Just get your fucking shit together Y/n. This has been going on for months! I’m getting tired of your bullshit and you keep wasting my time! I could be going out with my friends for lunch right now, but no. I have to be here and ‘put you in your place’. I’m not your fucking babysitter Y/n so grow the fuck up and get yourself together for the love of God.” Chan sighed and left Y/n alone in the room.

Chan was once again shocked by himself as he made his way to the cafeteria. Usually was Y/n the one who left the room first, but she seemed to be timid and quiet this time. He tried to shake it off, because it was first of all none of his business and secondly, he didn’t care. He never did, why would he now? Chan remembered there was a time where he wanted to be friends with Y/n. They were around the age of nine, but he just never knew what she had against him. And through the years of him not being able to found out the reason, he just started to ‘hate’ her back, since it seemed to be the easiest way. She seemed so different and dangerous, she was also very held back. She had her walls up high and build strongly so no one could get through it or break them down. Chan now was focused on himself and he was glad he did, because he was fine just like that.

When Chan sat in the cafeteria with his friends he complained about Y/n wasting his time for the umpteenth time. His friends were just looking at him with a smug smirk and ended up laughing. “What?” Chan asked in confusion. “You’re so crushing on her.” Minho laughed as he took another bite of his sandwich. “What- no?” “Sure man, but you’re the one who keeps going on and on about her.” Jisung added before drinking his juice with a smirk. “I do not talk about her that much.” Chan claims in defence. “Yes you do, you mention her every day.” “That’s because she drives me mad every day!” “Whatever you say.” The two mutter before focussing their attention to their phones.

Chan shook his head in disbelief and looked away from them. His eyes landed onto a lonely figure that was outside in the spring sun. The sunlight was hitting her softly, giving her a soft glow as she scrabbled away in her notebook, her head tilt as she held her phone in between her shoulder and her head. Chan squinted his eyes and noticed that it was Y/n. He sighed slightly and took a bite rather aggressively as his frustration from earlier returned his body.

His gaze would fall back to Y/n who was suddenly throwing her body back in fort, seeming as if she was laughing loudly at something. Chan was surprised when he saw her like that, because he had never seen her smile, like ever. Chan was caught staring at her by the boys as they suddenly started to tease him once again. “Stop it.” Chan would whine at the other three. “You know, there could be a reason why she gets into trouble all the time.” Minho began. “She’s a troublemaker, it’s her thing.” Jisung scoffs with a chuckle. “Yes that too, but what if she does that all on purpose, so she can spend time with Chan?” Minho theorises. “No, that would be pathetic.” Chan argued in disbelief, not thinking that someone like Y/n would ever do something like that. “I mean, you’ve seen crazier thing Chan. It wouldn’t be too weird if she does all of this for that reason.” Minho shrugged, setting Chan to thinking.

In the meantime Y/n was sat outside. The sun was nice and warm and she had a nice spot alone in the open. She had pulled out her notebook to draw and write her lunch break away, until she thought of what she wanted to do tonight. So, she called Changbin, who picked up happily. “What’s up buttercup?” He sang on the other side of the line. “Nothing much Tat Rat. You busy tonight?” She asked him hopefully. “I am Dumpling. CB97 has called us to work tonight. We have to rehearse.” Changbin said, feeling sorry and guilty that he couldn’t spend time with her, because she probably needed him.

“Nah, it’s okay. I was just wondering.” She stuttered. “You can go and hang out with my mom you know? She’s alone tonight since my dad is gone for a business trip.” “I could do that and look at baby pictures of yours with her-“ “Don’t you fucking dare!” Changbin yelled, making her laugh loudly. “Calm down! You were cute though.” “I was cute? I’m not anymore?” He joked and she could almost hear the pout on his lips from the other side of the line. “Of course you’re the cutest Binnie!” She chuckled through the phone as she cutely cheered onto him. His laugh made her day a little better and he assured her that he would be home in time so they could spend some time together as well before she falls asleep.

She said that she would like that before they exchanged their goodbyes and hung up on the call. She sighed in relief that she could stay at Changbin’s place. She wasn’t feeling like getting beaten up twice today. She decided to go to his apartment right now, because she also didn’t feel like facing Chan or any other student again today. Therefore, fifteen minutes before the bell rung to get everyone back to class, she made her way to her locker to gather her stuff to leave. What she didn’t knew was that Chan had seen her and he, as the vice president, felt responsible to scold her once again for her behaviour. And since it was Y/n as well, he was especially done with her shit. He didn’t know what happened to himself, but something inside of him seemed to have snapped as he stomped his way to Y/n’s locker where she was standing herself.

“You’re fucking skipping again? School is for education you know? And since you’ve missed a lot of it, it just shows how retarded you are! You already go in trouble for multiple shit and you still pull out this card? You’re such a moron no wonder no teacher wants you in their class. At least I have something to look forward too. I work for my future, can’t say the same thing about you.” He snarled in anger. But soon enough a pang in his chest was felt and he was filled with guilt.

Y/n turned to him slowly, slamming her locker closed in process as she looked at him with slight watery eyes.

“You have no right to say something like that about me Christopher. You have no idea what’s going on in my life and you certainly can’t say that I’m not working on my future. I know you are mister perfect, but I didn’t know you would be so low to people below you.” She snapped back, before she swung her bag over her shoulders and pushed pass him.

This was the second time for Chan to be shocked by her. This time seeing her so vulnerable and because she used his full English name.

He watched how she rushed through the halls outside, leaving the building in process. Her serious and fallen expression were printed into his brain and he wasn’t very sure what to do with them. She usually seemed to unbothered and cold, he felt like he finally saw her as a human being and it just did something to him, he just didn’t know what and why. A part of him wanted to run after her and apologise for his harsh words. Another side, his pride, was high up in the sky and stopped him from doing so.

When Y/n had arrived at the Seo resident, she lied to his mother that she wasn’t feeling too well. She added to the lie that she had kickboxing training in the morning and that she got beaten in her face and stomach. Misses Seo would pity for her and ask her if she wanted some soup to make her feel a little better. Y/n thanked her but declined the offer and told her that she would be resting in Changbin’s room for a bit, which ended up her falling asleep in Changbin’s bed.

Hours later she woke up to the bed denting a little and a familiar sent filling her nose. “You’re back?” She muttered in a tired voice as she tried to open her eyes to look at her friend. “Yeah, I just got home. It’s eleven O’clock. Did you sleep the whole time?” He asked as he softly rubbed her back. She hummed in responds as she turned her body towards him so she could hug him. “Y/n?” “Hmm?” “Are those new wounds?” Changbin asks carefully. She managed to hum a ‘yes’ which made Changbin sigh worriedly.

“Did you at least throw hands back?” When she didn’t answer he already knew that she didn’t. “Y/n, this needs to stop.” “It’s just a few more months. Then they will be gone forever.” She whispers whilst closing her eyes again. “Besides, my older wounds aren’t healed yet.”

Changbin was besides a rapper, producer and tattoo artist also a doctor by now. The amount of times he had helped her with her wounds, cuts and bruises were uncountable.

The boy would sigh once again and lay down with her. Wrapping his arms around her carefully as he held her protectively. Y/n would usually stay in the Seo’s spare room, also known as Changbin’s older sister’s old bedroom, that wasn’t used anymore since she had already moved out. But at times like these, Changbin felt a need to hold her and protect her, since sometime she was too weak or too tired to do it herself.

The two of them fell asleep like that, that night. And since they fell asleep, Y/n forgot to set her alarm, which caused her to oversleep through her first class. She groans as she noticed how late she was and muttered a goodbye to the exhausted Changbin who eventually was left alone in bed.

Y/n hopped onto her motor and drove her way to school. As soon as she stepped foot into the building, she was greeted by the principal and lead to her office. She cursed to herself, because she knew that her punishment was going up a notch. And she was now just mentally preparing herself for it.

What could happen? Getting early at school and leaving extra late? She wouldn’t have a problem with it, since she wouldn’t have to be at home. School punishments weren’t the worst things that ever happened to her.

“Miss Y/l/n, I have been informed that you aren’t passing most of your classes.” The principal states. “I mean, I guess so.” Y/n muttered, still tired as fuck. “Do you want to receive your diploma this year, Miss Y/l/n?” She asks almost annoyed. “Yes.” “Well then you will have to pass at least three of these failing classes to receive your diploma. This will mean that you will have to be tutored and make extra assignments for extra credit if you want to get that diploma.” She said sternly.

The school wouldn’t want to kick her off, since there would be rumours going around like wildfire and it would make the school look bad. So instead, the principal had someone in mind to ‘help’ her. So she could pass her classes, get her diploma for the sake of the school.

“Who could possibly be tutoring me-“ At that moment a familiar figure walked into the office room. Chan rolled his eyes as soon as he saw her. His chest tightened a little at the sight of her. Her bloody lip had dried up and was now a shade of deep, dark red, matching the rest of her other wounds. “What did you do this time?” Chan muttered annoyed, receiving an eye roll from Y/n. “Mister Bang, I’m glad you’re here. I just told Y/n that you would be the one tutoring her!” The principal reveals cheerfully. But Chan was anything but cheerful as he stared at the adult across him.

“I’m going to what now?”

To be continued…

Gif isn’t mine.

[kayteewritessteve]

Beautifully Unfinished - 7/8

Description: One foolish outburst, one moment of weakness at the worst possible time, and everything goes up in smoke. Who knew finally voicing your true, deep-rooted feelings, would lead to the complete destruction of your most cherished friendship?

Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 3,130 ish.

Pairing: Modern!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG.

Warnings: Curse words. Lots of angst. But if you’ve read my stories before, then you know how this will end.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

The Beginning of The End.

You pace the length of your living room, hands clenched in your hair. Your best friend—the love of your life—gets married in 7 days. 7 fucking days. And you are absolutely beside yourself right now. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat, fuck, you can barely even think. Everything in you is begging you to do something. Anything.

But you can’t. You can’t allow your foolish heart to say a damn thing. Who are you to dump all of this shit on an unsuspecting person? Who are you, that you can put your own feelings before others. Before your very best friend.

He’s in love. He’s getting fucking married, and next Sunday at that.

If you truly loved him, you’d stay the hell out of it. You’d stay the hell away from him till D day. Till the day there is no going back, and no chance for you to selfishly ruin everything.

So that’s what you’re currently doing, you’re avoiding him at all costs. You haven’t spoken to him in 2 weeks, much to your chagrin. And not without his effort.

He’s tried to contact you. He’s tried to call, to text. He even hounded Bucky about it, but you only know that because Bucky sent you a long text telling you to pull your head out of your ass, and stop ignoring him and Steve. He also reminded you that you are a GroomsWoman and you have duties to attend to. He may have also threatened to show up at your place, if you didn’t text him back within the hour.

So you caved. You texted him back, giving him a bullshit story about how busy you were with work right now. He clearly knew you were full of shit, but he left it alone. You’ve always assumed, and gotten the impression, that Bucky knew of your true feelings for Steve. Or he at least figured out there were more feelings there for you than just friendship. So you’d guess that he knew you were having a very hard time with this all.

You were struggling to come to terms with Steve’s impending union. Fuck, was that ever an understatement.

And in classic Bucky form, he seemed to understand without saying a thing, and then he offered to forward your message on to Steve. He promised to get him off your back for ‘work related’ reasons. And yes, he actually put it in quotes like that in his text.

So yeah, he totally knew. He probably always had, he was smart like that. He could read people better than anyone you knew. It was a little creepy actually, he was like some weird european spy, or something, you swear.

Yeah, you felt pretty guilty for not only skipping out on your GroomsWoman duties, but also for last minute cancelling on Steve’s Bachelor party. Because fuck that. That would not have ended well. Your intense heartache and feelings, mixed with alcohol and then stuck in a room with the object of your desires. Yeah, no, that had a ‘fucking mess’ written all over it. Entirely.

So you’d chickened out and texted Bucky, once again with a shit ass excuse about not feeling well. And again, you knew he saw right through it. But he covered for your ass like he always did.

You yank on your hair before dropping your arms, only to then not know what to do with them—or yourself, but one thing at a time here—so you awkwardly crossed them and halted your steps in front of your living room window. Staring out at the summer rain pelting down on everything outside; cars, people, the sidewalk.

What are you doing? Why are you like this? Why can’t you just get over these ridiculous feelings already? This is insanity, it’s the very definition of the damn word.

You take a deep breath, hoping it will help quiet the screams of your heart. With every passing day that’s brought you closer to his wedding day, your heart has gotten louder and louder. And your head? Well it’s not much better, it’s been trying to rationalize the pros of just telling him. Of just letting it all out finally. It’s been trying to tell you it would be worth it, it’s been attempting to give you this false hope that he would feel the same way. That if you just told him, he’d realize he feels the same and end this engagement to be with you.

But you aren’t a dumbass—at least not always—you know the likelihood of him feeling the same is a million to one. So basically so slim that there is no chance at all.

...But there is still that one shot! There is still that teeny tiny little chance!

Ugh! See! This is what it’s been like for weeks! This is the constant battle that has been raging inside you for months. Who are we kidding, it’s been like this for years. But it’s been made worse by the realization that you are running out of time. By the fact that the window of opportunity is slowly diminishing and will soon enough be shut forever.

Or at least until they get divorced! NO! You can’t think like that. They aren’t even fucking married yet, and already you are hoping for the end of their union. How sick are you? How fucking selfish? He’s your best friend. Be happy for him. Be thankful that he found his person.

Even if that person isn’t you.

Ugh! And now your hands are clenching the roots of your hair once again. This is agony. Maybe you can goto the hospital and ask them to put you under. Beg them to induce a coma, so you can finally just breathe and your head can shut off for a few days—

The slam of a door causes you to jump and whip around at the noise, only to feel all your blood attempt to leave your body at the cause of the sound. The very thing you are stressing out about right now.

Steve. He is standing not even 15 feet away from you currently, and he looks pissed as hell. Fuck fuck fuck. You are avoiding him for a reason! You can’t be around him right now, you are too weak, you will say something dumb. Or God forbid you will just word vomit all over him, you will just dump everything you’ve held in for years in one fell swoop.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Here, overthinking everything and having a mental breakdown. But you don’t say that, obviously, and instead go with, “What are you doing here, Steve?”

“Making sure you’re still fucking alive,” he glares at you. And ooh fuck, yup, yeah, he’s pissed alright. You’re fucking in for it now. “Since you can’t seem to reply to any of my messages, or answer your damn phone.”

He pulls his phone from his pocket, and then his eyes leave yours as he glances down at it’s screen, tapping away at it. A few seconds later, you hear the familiar chirp of your text notification tone and your eyes widen at the realization. You quickly go to grab your phone, hoping you can just avoid this whole thing. Hoping that by hiding it, it will defuse the ticking bomb that is currently your best friend.

He glances up and around for a second, his eyes then land on the traitorous electronic just as you pick it up and go to cram it in your pocket, but at the last second you flick the switch to put it in silent mode, then chuck it at the couch. His eyes follow the motion then snap back to yours, and you can’t miss just how heated they are now. Even more than they were before. “Steve, just let me—“

“I’m glad to see it still works perfectly fine,” he seethes, cutting you off and taking a few slow steps to fully enter the living room. Which causes your heart rate to pick up, tenfold. But not because your scared of him, fuck no, you’d never be scared of Steve. He gets mad sometimes, but never aggressive. The worst he gets is like a pissed off parent. So no, your heart wasn’t racing because of that, it was racing because he is so damn close now. Closer than he’s been in weeks, and he’s still like 10 feet from you. Gosh, you missed him so much—God, you are so damn pathetic!

“And that it’s on fucking loud,” he adds, halting his steps and narrowing his eyes at you. “So you have been ignoring me, huh?”

“It’s not like that—“

“Oh don’t give me that bullshit excuse, Y/N,” he cuts you off once again. And for a guy that wants answers, he sure as hell isn’t giving you the chance to actually give him any. “It’s me,” he gestures to himself, “Steve. Ya know, your best friend? The person who knows you better than anyone else. So tell me the damn truth, Y/N, why have you been ignoring me?”

I CAN’T! Don’t you fucking get that!? Instead of screaming that, you take a deep breath, and try to think of more rational words. “I haven’t been ignoring you, Steve,” you pause and scrunch up your nose. “At least not really. Not because of anything you’ve done. I’ve just been so busy lately, didn’t Bucky fill you in on this?”

“Really?” He says dryly, “you’re just going to stick with that horrendously fake excuse?”

“It’s not a damn excuse! I just needed some fucking space!” You snap, then quickly clench your mouth shut and drop your eyes to the floor, before exhaling deeply. The realization that he is clearly trying to get a rise out of you, hitting you instantly. He knows that if you’re pissed off, you’ll most likely slip up and tell him the truth. The fucker. He knows you too well.

“Some space?” He asks quietly, and you hear him take a few hesitant steps forward. “From who?”

You keep your mouth shut, and clench your eyes closed as well. If you open your mouth now, you’ll say something you’ll regret.

His breath hitches, “Fr-from me?”

The sheer pain and confusion in his voice makes your eyes start to sting, so you unclench them and blink rapidly a few times, in the hopes to stop the tears before they start. “From everyone,” you choke out.

“That’s not true though, is it? You’ve been replying to Bucky’s messages, so it is just space from me,” he takes a deep breath, “why? Why do you need space from me?”

“It’s not important,” you shake your head, tucking a few wayward strands behind your ear, “It’s stupid, and it won’t matter soon enough.”

“Of course it’s fucking important, Y/N. My best friend is upset at me for something, and that matters a hell of a lot to me,” he says adamantly. “So just tell me what’s wrong, Doll. Please?”

“I can’t, Steve. I really can’t, please just trust me here,” you sigh rubbing a hand on your forehead, while continuing to keep your eyes locked on the floor in front of you.

“And why can’t you?”

You keep your mouth shut, having no idea what to even say. But then you hear his light steps, just before his shoes come into your view.

“Doll, please look at me,” he pleads. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix this. I can’t deal with you mad at me, especially when I have no idea why.”

“There is nothing to fix, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is all on me, I’ll work myself through it and everything will go back to normal. I promise.”

“Damnit, Y/N! Would you just look at me already!”

You snap your eyes up to meet his, “there! Happy now?”

“No, as a matter of fact I’m fucking not!” He glares at you again. “Why are you being like this? What the hell happened? Just fucking tell me already!”

“You! You fucking happened, Steven!” You snap, glaring right back at him. The wall has finally crumbled, you can’t hold it in anymore, it’s all going to come out whether you like it or not. “You and your stupid perfection! And your dumb face! And—and this ridiculous fucking torch I’ve been carrying for you since grade fucking 7! I’m in love with you Steve, I always have been and the fact that you are marrying someone else is fucking killing me! I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can barely fucking breathe! My heart feels like it’s being crushed and—ARGH!” You yell the last part as your hands move to your head again, grabbing ahold of your roots and giving a few tugs as you spin around. You can’t face him right now. “So there it is, Steve! The whole fucking truth about why I’ve been avoiding you lately. That’s what you wanted to know so damn badly, isn’t it? How does knowing the real reason make you feel? Did my honesty ease your mind? Did it fucking fix things?”

“Y/N,” he says quietly, breathlessly, and you can here the shock in his voice. “I—I don’t,” he trails off.

Which causes you to groan loudly, shaking your head, “just forget it, Steve. Can you please just leave? I want to be alone. I need to be al—“

Your cut off by the motion of your body being spun around forcefully, yet gently. You spin so fast that you almost topple over, but two hands on either side of your face keep you upright. And then, out of fucking nowhere, Steve’s lips crash into yours.

To say that caught you off guard, would be an understatement. You must be fucking dead! Yup, you’ve died, clearly. Because there is no way in hell that Steve is kissing you right now! There just isn’t!

But yet, his lips feel so real. Too real. And just like that, you lose all train of thought, and you kiss him back with everything you have. Your arms slip around his waist, and one of his hands leaves your check to travel down and wrap around you. He pulls you closer and you comply, melting into him and deepening the kiss. His fingers dig into your hip, his forearm warming your lower back, and causing tingles to run up your spin.

But just as abruptly as it started, it stops. And not just that, Steve damn near jumps away from you as if you’re on fire. He takes a few large steps back, creating a vast space between you both.

“Shit,” he whispers under his breath, as he looks away from you. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He shakes his head and then his eyes widen, “Holy fuck, I’m getting married in a week. Literally getting married to Hailey in a fucking week.”

His eyes snap to yours, and the emotions in them make your heart clench even more. What have you done? “Look, Steve, let’s just pretend this never happened, okay? Let’s just act like this whole fucking night never fucking happened—“

“How can you expect me to just pretend like this never happened, Y/N? You just told me you’re in love with me! And we just fucking kissed, God d-damnit!” He stammers and starts to pace the width of your living room. He takes a deep breath, “Like what the hell, Y/N? You’ve had years to say all of this, and you pick right fucking now? A week before my damn wedding, to finally voice your feelings for me? Are you kidding me right now?”

Your nose flares at what he’s saying, because the fucking nerve on this asshole! “Are you kidding me right now?! Don’t pin this shit on me, Steven, I told you I couldn’t tell you! And you just kept fucking pushing! I tried to avoid you so that I wouldn’t say any of this to you, and what did you do? You showed up at my damn door demanding answers! I fucking tried so damn hard to keep it to myself. I did everything I could, to not ruin this friendship, or your big day with my stupid fucking feelings. You think I want to be in love with my best friend, who is getting married to someone else in a week?!” You scoff, crossing your arms, “Of course I fucking don’t. Give your damn head a shake.”

“I didn’t,” he snaps his mouth shut and shakes his head, before mumbling, “I can’t do this right now, Y/N, not yet, not like this. I ah, I’m sorry, I have to go.”

You want more than anything to stop him, to beg him to stay and to pick you, but what little dignity you have left won’t let you. You refuse to put yourself out there anymore. He wants to leave, than good fucking riddance! Don’t let the door hit you on the fucking way out!

“Yeah, I think that’s best,” you agree bitterly, seeing him purse his lips before nodding once then turning on his heel. A moment later you hear your door slam shut and at that very moment you collapse to the floor.

Everything you’ve felt over the last few weeks, months, years, all ripping out of you at once. And then on top of that, everything that happened tonight only adds more emotions to the mix. You’ve never cried this hard in your life, you can’t even bring yourself to stand up and go to your bed.

Shit, you can’t even manage the strength to get up onto your couch, which is only 3 feet away. So instead you curl up into a ball on your living room floor, and proceed to cry every last tear you have left.

You stay in this spot for a couple hours before you finally pick yourself up and drag yourself over to the window. Hoping and praying that the pain will go away soon, or will at least numb out enough to allow you to breathe normally.

But you know that won’t happen for a long time. This pain will stick with you for a while, and nothing you do or say will make it disappear. Nothing will make it go away, it’s taken root deep within you and you’ll carry it through life, along with you. Because Steve isn’t just some random guy, this isn’t just some silly crush. He’s your best friend, he’s the love of your life, and you hate him for it, but yet, you don’t.

Because I hate you, but I love you, and I wish you'd go away.

But I hate you, and I love you, and I wish that you would stay.

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

@caps-lockdown @boxofteenageideas @giggleberts @strawberry-gothchild @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @steeeeverogers @zombiepotterfour @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @viarogers @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @badassbeckettswan @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17 @emotionallysalty @saturngirlz @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @bohemian-barbie @marvelous-capsicle @ivoryhazlewood @cjhorseback @jessiedaeum @capricornprince118 @pinkleopardss @drayshadow @wiserebelpartypie @dark-night-sky-99 @patzammit @cs-please @troublermalik @anika-ann @wxstedhexrt @rynabarnesrogers

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

We Do This to Live Ch. 2

Chapter Two

Summary: On Earth-198742, there are no heroes. There’s humans. There’s mutants. There are even some that fall somewhere between. But when Boliver Trask manages to get the Sentinel program signed, it’s up to a thief and her brilliant sister to find those that still believe in something more - something good. And maybe, along the way, they’ll get the chance to save mutant kind.

Pairings: Rogue x Remy, Marie x Shuri (eventually), Geneva x Bucky (eventually)

Word Count: 2344 words

Warnings: Cussing

Masterlist to OCs - Masterlist to Other Works

Previous Chapter

--

March 12th, 2000

Rain had a way of falling hard and heavy on days the world could really do without. Today was not an exception. The family, both blood and Guild, listened to the priest’s kind words about Henri Lebeau. It was all appreciated.

And yet…

Geneva looked to her parents. Her mother held Marie in her arm, her other hand carefully wrapped around her father’s bicep. She watched the subtle circles Rogue traced against Remy’s coat. It was her way of letting him know he was there. But her father’s eyes never looked away from the closed casket.

Closed only because there was no body to return home.

Tucking loose strands behind her ear, Geneva shivered as icy raindrops hit her skin. As much as she loved the rain, now didn’t seem to be a good time for it. A small sniffle caught her attention. She looked to the small child in Rogue’s arms. Only three and Marie had lost both of her parents.

She watched as Marie’s smaller hand reached for her. Her eyes were puffy, nose red, and lips quivering. Geneva couldn’t imagine how much of this her cousin actually understood. Letting Marie take one of her fingers, she watched her fat little digits curl around it and squeeze.

Things were going to be different now. They had to be. She offered a weak smile as Marie’s chubby cheek pressed into Rogue’s shoulder. Neither of them was paying attention to the speaker’s words. Nor did they notice the way Rogue had started watching them.

Instead, Geneva raised the finger Marie held and nudged her nose. “I got ya, Marie. Promise.”

--

Children always try their hardest. Whether it’s fulfilling promises or performing their best, they try. And Geneva, with the stubbornness of both her parents, was consistent. For a year, she helped care for Marie as much as her parents would allow. She stopped hanging out with friends, only wanting to make her little cousin smile as much as possible. Her parents noticed the difference in the way she treated the baby she once called a “punk” and “brat” had become more of a sister to her than they could have ever anticipated.

But the world has a funny way of reminding a child that they are only mortal. They always have strength, but with it comes weakness.

For them, it came as a reminder that she was young. Fragile. Geneva’s fevers came back inconsistently. Sometimes it would last a couple hours but vanish as quickly as it appeared. Other times, she would be bedridden for days at a time.

And neither Rogue nor Remy knew what to do.

Remy nursed a glass filled with bourbon. He sat on their apartment balcony, silently wondering what he could do. Was there anything he could do?

Four days had passed with Geneva’s temperature lingering at 104. Tante Mattie spent most days here, conjuring up whatever old medicine she could in what felt like a poor attempt to bring it down. Still, it wasn’t enough and now…

It wasn’t that they didn’t want to go to the hospitals – they did. However, the Accords had made it difficult for any mutant to step foot in one. If they came up unregistered, they were arrested on sight. He had seen too many families torn apart on the news and no human cared enough to speak up for them.

So where did that leave them with their little girl?

Remy wasn’t a fool. He knew how lucky they were to have Geneva in their life. The idea of losing her… He squeezed his eyes shut, pushing the thought to the back of his mind.

The balcony door clicked; the sound so faint that anyone else would have missed it. He didn’t bother looking up, recognizing the perfume that lingered in the air. Rogue wrapped her arms around his shoulder, carefully resting her chin on his head. “Finally got Marie down,” she whispered. “Any word from Mattie?”

He lifted the phone from his lap. Nothing. She had taken Geneva to the hospital, insisting that nothing was working. This was their last option. Since she was human and Geneva showed no signs of being mutant, that meant the two could go. While Rogue and Remy silently waited here.

“Baiser les Accords,” he muttered, taking a sip of the alcohol. It did nothing to him thanks to his powers, but the bitter taste burning his throat at least helped him feel something.

“Ya know Mattie is gonna keep our girl safe, Sugah,” Rogue whispered, tucking his hair behind his ear. She was trying to stay hopeful. They both knew that. The truth that hung so plainly in the air was that, if she could, Rogue would fly there now. She’d bust down every door until she was by her daughter’s side.

They were those kinds of parents.

“Roguey,” he whispered, voice thick with more than just that Cajun tongue. “What if she can’t?”

Rogue’s heart cracked when he asked that one question. The one she couldn’t let cross her own mind. It hurt too much. Squeezing him tight, she whispered, “Then we figure it out.”

--

Taking Geneva to the hospital had been the hardest decision they had made. She stayed for three weeks, losing weight and delirious half the time. When Tante Mattie could and their baby girl felt up for it, the family facetimed. It was always careful – always making sure nurses and doctors weren’t waiting around the corner.

However, there had been more than one occasion where Remy almost broke into the hospital. He just wanted to see her in person. He wanted to make sure Geneva knew they wanted to be there. They didn’t want her to be alone.

 But Tante Mattie made it clear. This wasn’t about him or Rogue. Everything they did here needed to be the best thing for her.

When Tante Mattie finally brought her home, they celebrated. Remy cooked all her favorites and Rogue had even made a cake. Meanwhile, Marie refused to let Geneva leave her side. The four-year-old had noticed her disappearance and it became clear to everyone. She wasn’t a fan.

“I’m fine! Really,” Geneva assured them, laughing when Rogue gave her another hug. “Don’t even feel like I was sick.” Bouncing Marie on her leg and playing with the girl’s small hands, Geneva glanced at her dad. “Y’both worry too much.”

“Maybe,” Rogue agreed, interrupting Remy before he got a chance to say something different. She gave him a look as he bit his tongue, knowing that crazy Cajun wanted to argue. “Still. We’re gonna be takin’ some precautions from now on. Just to be safe, alright?” She smoothed Geneva’s hair back, taking a look at her eyes. Her heart warmed when she saw that sparkle she adored so much.

Geneva huffed, her shoulders slumping. “I guess that’s fair.”

Remy snorted as he filled a bowl up with some jambalaya. “Bon. ‘Cause y’didn’t have a say eit’er way, petite luciole.”

“I’m not a firefly!”

Laughing, he slid the bowl in front of her just as an obnoxious growl tore through her stomach. “Just eat y’food.”

--

It’s rare for anyone to like change, but for the Lebeau family, it became especially hard. Deciding it better for them to stay close to more “human” family, they left Mississippi and moved back to New Orleans.

Jean Luc, wanting to help however he could, turned one of the guest bedrooms into a hospital room. He hired a private physician to join full time and, only when the fevers lasted longer than a week, did he or Tante Mattie take her to the hospital.

Because of Jean Luc’s…connections…it wasn’t too hard for the staff to look the other way. There was simply one silent rule – Jean Luc had to accompany them.

All things considered, they appreciated it.

And Remy thought it was the least his father could do for his granddaughter.

For three years, it became such a basic part of their routine that they didn’t question it. All that mattered was that Geneva always came home.

When she turned fourteen, no one noticed the change. No one…except Marie. Even at six and seven, she noticed the differences. She had started making notes for her own sake, knowing no one would listen to her. She was still a kid – the youngest of them all.

 But there was no denying her notes were right.

Geneva’s fevers were lasting for shorter periods of time. Her skin remained hot, sure, but the thermometer didn’t register the temperatures quite the same. Another thing that was different – Geneva had more energy. If she didn’t know better, Marie would have thought Geneva was hyped on caffeine 24/7. She just had that much energy.

The one time she had even tried to say anything, Remy chocked it up to Geneva making up for time stuck in a bed.

But it was more than that. Marie knew it had to be.

“Oof!” Marie grunted as Geneva tackled her from behind. The notebook in her hand fell to the ground as her pen rolled under the couch. “Gen,” she groaned as Geneva flopped back.

She propped her back against the arm of the couch, rolling her eyes. “I swear y’not a kid. Y’sound as old as Pépé half the time.”

Marie didn’t say anything, shutting her notebook and tucking it against her chest. On her knees, she shoved her arm under the couch and tried to find that blasted pen. “That was my favorite,” she whined.

“It’s a pen, Marie,” Geneva reminded her.

Marie knew she was right. It was just a pen. Marie had ten exactly like it in her room because she knew her family well enough. Things like pens rolling just out of reach were common. Sitting on her haunches, she looked at Geneva. Sometimes it was hard to believe that there were so many years between the two.

Geneva always made a point to be fun, trying to get Marie to loosen up.

And Marie always acted older than her actual age.

Somehow, the two managed to find a way to meet in the middle.

“C’mon. Mere ‘n’ Pere are finally lettin’ moi get out o’this house.” Geneva jumped to her feet. “I need ya help pickin’ out what I’m wearin’.”

Marie yelped as she was yanked to her feet, stumbling and bounding up the stairs. As much as she could find Geneva’s energy a trifle annoying, she appreciated how much Geneva tried including her in her world.

It made things like “being in a thieves guild” feel a little more…normal.

--

Rogue found herself unable to sleep that night, eyes fixated on the moonlight outside. Geneva had left a few hours ago, checking in when she had arrived just as they had made her promise to do. She was a good kid. They both knew that. And yet…

“Do ya think it was a good idea,” she asked, knowing Remy had to be as awake as she.

“Non.” She couldn’t stop her smile. Her husband was such a grouch. “Y’convinced moi, remember?”

She rolled over, not at all surprised to see Remy had been staring at the ceiling. “Sugah,” she drawled. Rogue propped her head up, hating that Remy looked so absolutely distraught.

“I know we told her a couple months o’non fevers and she could go,” he grumbled. One hand was tucked behind his head, the other having found her knee. He squeezed gently, needing to know that she was there. “I know that, mas…What if somethin’ happens?”

The smallest sympathetic smile tugged at Rogue’s lips. “We’re both worryin’ over somethin’ that might not happen.”

Remy chuckled. Closing his eyes, the softest sigh forced his chest to rise and fall. “Been doin’ that. Hell, I thought the fevers might be a sign that…” He hesitated, afraid to voice it out loud.

But he didn’t need to. They had thought the same thing, believing Geneva’s crazy fevers and medical visits had to be connected to a brewing mutation.

“I know.” She curled against his side. “I thought the same thing.”

Silence fell between the two. Sure, it was a surprise and perhaps a bit disappointing that Geneva wasn’t a mutant. But maybe it needed to be this way. The Accords made being one of them so difficult. If she lived her life as a human, it’d be far easier for her.

A thud from their bedroom door broke the silence. They jerked as it swung open. Tante Mattie, Jean Luc, and Marie all stood there. Panic in their eyes.

“What,” Rogue asked, sitting up as Marie ran in. “What’s going on?”

“Y’need t’see the news,” Jean Luc told them, a waver in his voice that unsettled Remy.

The TV across from their bed flickered on, Marie standing just next to it with the remote in hand. The New Orleans news anchor wasn’t at his usual desk. He was…

He was on the outskirts of the bayou.

Remy stood up, eyes flickering to the ambulances, firetrucks, and police officers. Just behind all of the lights, taunting the world with its existence, was a fire.

“Police believe it was a mutant attack that started the fire.”

“Rem,” Rogue whispered. That agonizing fear tinged her voice, making Remy feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t notice her turn. She had to find her phone.

“Officials have already found four teenagers from the party. There have been minor injuries for the most part, but the kids have said there are still several that have yet to be found.”

“She’s not answerin’ her phone, Remy.”

A teenager’s face appeared on screen – pimply and awkward as ever. “It was so weird! The fille – There was lightnin’ comin’ outa her skin!”

Remy stood. His movements were quick, scrambling to find any clothes and settling on sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He stalked past them as Rogue rushed to find some clothes.

“Son, where y’goin’?”

Remy didn’t stop walking. He didn’t have the time. He only had one thing in mind --

“T’find her.”