#really guy did two individuals and he's given them to the new girl to send out (with my help) like man that'll take longer

[fazcinatingblog]

No YOU ran out of paper towel and then opened the fridge to see if there were any new rolls in there

[withlovewriting]

Mixed Drinks and Smoke Rings 17: The Second Coming

Chapter Seventeen: The Second Coming

Xanny, packed in my Off-White fanny, I been going off, I’m manic, Shit wearing off, I’m landing, More on the way, don’t panic, Drank too much, God damn it, Shut that door, don’t slam it, Shit too loud, can’t stand it, I can’t stand it

Summary: New to town, you didn’t need a friend, you needed a dealer. Thankfully, a girl from your Narcotics Anonymous meetings knew just the guy.

Characters: Fezco (euphoria) x Non-descriptive Reader

Words: 4,405

Chapter Warnings: Drug use, abusive relationships, i already wrote out this damn thing once and then pressed the back button on my mouse by accident so if there are any mistakes its because im dumb and didnt save it as a draft as per 

Series Warnings: Addiction, sexual themes, cursing, abuse (various), smut, drug use, teenagers being fucking idiots. 18+ only, minors DNI

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taglist: @iamasimpingh0e​ @chelseagirl77​ @zeida​ @thepawn1999​ @alanis-altair​ @purplebtsmagic​ @fuckrigthoff​

'A complete stranger has the capacity to alter the life of another irrevocably. This domino effect has the capacity to change the course of an entire world. That is what life is; a chain reaction of individuals colliding with others and influencing their lives without realizing it. A decision that seems minuscule to you, may be monumental to the fate of the world.'

At least, that's what J.D Stroube once wrote.

Your life so far felt like one big game of dominoes, but you'd be stupid to blame all of your bad situations and decisions on other people. After all, even if you had to pick between the lesser of two evils, it was still you who had made the decision.

You might've been led to the water, but you're the horse who chose to drink.

As you walked through the school corridor you're friend, Chloe was going on and on about something -- you'd lost interest around 30 seconds into the one-sided conversation -- when your eyes wandered to the large mahogany stairs, where only the most elite of students hung out.

The popular kids -- like a million different teenage films -- seemed untouchable. Whilst loitering on the stairwells was forbidden, even the strictest of teachers would often walk right past them, and no punishments were ever given when they'd boldly stroll into class after the bell.

Everyone wanted an in with them, regardless of how, or why. And you most definitely were not immune to the charm.

As you passed the group, your eyes met those of Liam Ryder, easily the most popular boy in school, and a whole grade above you.

Not only completely ignoring Chloe, but you were also totally oblivious to Keon Jackson, only aware of him when he accidentally shoulder clipped you -- his own nose deep in a book -- sending you both flying.

Your face felt hot when you heard laughter, the high-pitched cackles from Jen Atkins seemingly much louder than anyone else's as she peered down at you from where she was sat, like some kind of puffed-up pigeon.

God, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

Brushing off Keon's bumbled apology, you pushed yourself to your knees, quickly grabbing your dropped belongings. As you moved to grab your textbook, a hand shot out, grazing yours as you both reached for the book.

Taking a deep breath, you finally looked up, eyes connecting with the same brown eyes that had distracted you in the first place.

He gripped your textbook as he quickly stood, offering a hand out to help you up.

"Really, I'm so sorry, I-" Keon began once more, cutting himself off when Liam sent him a sharp look.

"Scram."

And just like that, he did.

Turning his attention back toward you, his eyes softened as he visibly checked you over, "Are you alright? You went down pretty hard."

Trying your best to swallow down your embarrassment, you sent him a tight-lipped smile, followed by a curt nod. The problem with the elites, was that they were nice to look at, but terrifying to actually speak to.

Raising a quizzical brow at you, he smirked, "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

Your eyes widened as you realized how rude you'd appeared, stuttering out a reply, "Shit. I mean... Uh sorry."

Shaking your head, you felt like an absolute idiot, "Thank you. I meant to say thank you."

His smirk only deepened as he watched you squirm, "I've seen you around. You're in my AP class, right?"

Unsure of why he was talking to you at all, you forced the lump in your throat down as you nodded, "Yeah. I uh... I sit near the front..."

If there was a God, you could only hope he'd strike you down where you stood for being such a damn loser. Instead, the bastard let you stand there, wringing your hands and babbling. Clearly, you didn't attend church nearly enough for the big man upstairs to help out.

"That test last week man... I barely scraped by. You did well though, right?"

You did more than do well, you wanted to say. But it didn't seem the appropriate time to brag, "Yeah, I did OK."

His dark eyes bore into yours for a moment, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck, "So, uh... Do you by any chance tutor people? I would totally pay, I just-"

Your eyebrows shot toward your hairline as you barely registered him now fumbling around his words. The elites of the school were smart enough, sure. But they usually relied on the brains of the less socially inept to do their school work.

"I don't usually tutor anyone," you watched as his face fell, shoulders deflating a little, "but I'm happy to go over my notes with you for next week's test."

His smile stretched across his face, meeting his eyes, "Yeah, that would be great, actually. Thank you."

You both stood in silence for a moment, his smile almost forcing a small grin onto yours. Feeling as though you'd only half-embarrassed yourself during this tete-a-tete, you finally spoke again, "Uh, I need to get to class..."

"Oh sure, yeah. Me too."

When neither of you moved, you let out a quiet chortle, "You uh... You still have my book."

It was Liam's turn to look mortified as his hand that had kept a firm grip on your book shot out toward you, only to tighten once you had grabbed the other end,

"Tomorrow, after school? I can drive you home after."

Waiting for your confirmation, he finally sent you a charming smile before releasing the book and making his way down the hallway, his head turning around only once, catching you still standing motionless, watching him leave.

Quickly spinning around on the spot, you couldn't help the large, beaming smile that tugged at your lips as you marched toward class.

What you didn't see, however, was Liam handing over a crisp bill to Keon as he passed.

Sitting on Liam's desk chair, you felt much more at ease than you probably should've, being alone in a boy's room.

He sat a respectable distance from you, choosing instead to perch on his king-sized bed.

He was tapping his pen along to whatever song was playing through his phone, silently mouthing along to the lyrics as he read and re-read over his notes.

Watching him for a moment, he seemed so relaxed in the comfort of his own home, even when in the presence of an almost total stranger.

Maybe, Liam was a lot more normal than you had originally been led to believe. Maybe the bravado and monkeying around in school was simply a front, a mask he was only content to take off in the safety of his own four walls.

Maybe, he was just as normal as the rest of you.

"Have you finished already?" He questioned, eyes never moving from his book.

Feeling your face warm-up, you quickly diverted your eyes back to your own work, "I finished like, ten minutes ago."

His brows pulled together as he looked toward you, the side of his mouth pulling up into a sideways grin, "So you've just been sat there twiddling your thumbs when you could've been helping me?"

You don't know whether it was his question or the look he was sending you, that made you nervous. Your leg bounced as you shrugged.

"Do you ever relax?" His tone was light, but his eyes were far too curious to mean it in jest.

"Of course I do... I'm just, I dunno..."

Thankfully, he only let you suffer for a moment or two as he silently watched you struggle for any word that wasn't 'nervous'. His eyes darted toward your still-moving leg before returning to you with a lifted brow. 

"High strung? Anxious? Scared? All of the above..."

"I'm not scared of you..."

Standing from his bed, he made his way over to you, his palm flattening against your thigh in order to stop its bouncing, "I'm not making fun of you, I swear. Just... You shouldn't be so worried all of the time. It's not good for your health."

A small chuckle escaped you, lessening the frown that creased your forehead. You watched as he leaned over you -- his body so close you could smell the faded scent of whatever soap he'd used this morning -- rifling through one of his desk drawers, 

"I have just the thing," he smiled, straightening up as he held the joint between his fingers.

Placing the unlit joint onto your rolling tray, you released a long sigh.

It had started innocently enough. A couple of puffs on a joint every now and then, hiding out in his room under the guise of studying. If his parents cared that he had a girl over, or that he was smoking pot, they never spoke up.

You'd never speak much in school, instead, your days were filled with gentle grazes as you passed in the hallways, and longing looks across the lunchroom.

His attention seemed solely focused on you whenever you were in his vicinity, and you'd even heard his friends mock him on occasion for being so distracted, even if they didn't know why. Yet, he continued to drown them out whenever his dark eyes met yours across a room.

Maybe that was what initially drew you to him. The way that, even in a room full of students, he could make you feel like the only person there with him, without saying a single word to you.

The stolen glances felt like a romantic secret, something only the two of you shared because nobody else --his friends, or yours -- mattered enough to know.

In hindsight -- which they say is 20/20 -- you knew this was because you were a secret. At least in the beginning. And maybe that was the first red flag you'd ignored.

"Please explain why you invited some girl that you've barely spoken five words to."

Tucker wasn't wrong. Liam technically hadn't spoken to you in school much since that fated day in the hallway. 

"She's cool, man. Trust me."

Your nerves were at an all-time high as you sat in the passenger seat of Chloe's car, tugging at your skirt. It had taken some convincing, but she'd finally agreed to check out what was being dubbed the biggest party of the year.

Tucker was rich, rich. His parents worked in real estate and -- thankfully for him -- seemed to spend most of their free time out on their yacht. 

You assumed that was why Tucker acted the way he did; he craved attention. Good or bad, it didn't matter. You didn't want to admit it, but you both had more in common than you'd assumed. Hell, most of the kids here did.

Your mother had flown out to DC before you'd even woken up that morning and wouldn't be back until late Sunday evening, and your father had gone to a sports bar with some work colleagues.

Although you'd had to practically drag Chloe there, a few other people in your group had willingly come along, excited to attend their first real high school party.

Sure, you all claimed that you didn't care about popularity, but you were human. All you really wanted was to be accepted, to be liked. Isn't that how every teenager felt?

"Look what the cat dragged in," a supercilious voice caught your attention as soon as you walked through the door as if she was awaiting your arrival.

"Oh, hey Jen." 

No matter how tempted you were to divert your eyes and look around the room for the familiar brown ones, you kept your eyes on the girl in front of you, her own piercing glare refusing to back down. You weren't sure where her sudden animosity had come from, but you knew she was playing some kind of game. You only wished you knew the rules.

"Are you two going to stare at each other all night or what?" Chloe grumbled, catching Jen's attention. Seemingly bored of playing with her food, Jen merely rolled her eyes before strutting off into the sea of people.

"What the hell was that about?"

Shrugging, you weren't entirely sure yourself, "C'mon, let's go see how big the pool is." 

Looking back, you couldn't feel anger toward your younger self. You just felt... sad.

You'd remember that party for the rest of your life, a bittersweet memory that you didn't know how or even if you wanted to rid yourself of.

That night was the first time you'd tried anything harder than pot. Liam had produced a line of Xanax, joking that if weed wouldn't help you relax, then this definitely would.

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

Chloe's question caused your eyes to roll, annoyance radiating off you as you took a bigger gulp from your cup, trying to prove a point. Wiping your chin, your eyes met Liam's across the room, watching as he obliviously nodded along to whatever his friend was saying, his burning stare not deviating from you since you'd first spotted each other.

"I'm just trying to enjoy myself. Maybe you should have a couple, might make you a bit more fun."

You knew your words were harsh, but you were 4 cups of jungle juice deep and fed up with her party-pooper attitude. She'd been counting down the minutes since your arrival, mumbling under her breath about how she'd have more fun watching paint dry, and being a little too loud with her deprecating comments. Chloe could be brusque at the best of times, downright rude at the worst.

You just wanted to have a little fun at the first party you'd actually been invited to. And here she was, acting like a total bitch.

"Well, I'm sorry that I don't think getting wasted on over-priced alcohol with a bunch of people who won't remember me in 5 years is 'fun'. I just didn't think you'd entertain them either,"

Pushing herself from the wall, she eyed the crowd dubiously for a moment before turning back to you, eyebrows pulled together, "Don't think it's odd that they even invited us? I mean, I'm not even sure they know our names. If they pull a 'Carrie' and pour pig blood on us, I wouldn't even be surprised."

Squeezing your eyes shut, you could feel your last nerve fray, "Fucking hell, Chloe. Get a grip, OK? First of all, I was invited, not you. Maybe, they'd know our names if you weren't being a colossal bitch all night. The fact that you think nobody here would bother with me unless they had an ulterior motive is fucked up."

Downing more of your drink -- ignoring the glances from classmates that had overheard your argument -- your chest heaved as guilt settled over you, weighing you down heavily. Sure, Chloe could be a little too much sometimes, but she was your friend.

Before you could open your mouth to apologize, Chloe shook her head, a  tremulous laugh falling from her tight-lipped, mournful smile, "Fuck you. Find your own way home."

You heard the hushed chatter and laughs as she pushed through the crowd, making her exit.

Releasing a sigh, you gently knocked your head against the wall behind you as you felt tears fill your closed eyes. Trying to garner the strength to follow her out and apologize profusely, your eyes fluttered open when you heard a familiar voice,

"Well, that was... dramatic.”

Your brow creased as you bit your bottom lip. Your face felt hot and you knew as soon as you opened your eyes, you'd start crying. Maybe you were a little too drunk.

"I'm uh... I'm sorry," You sniffed, feeling a tear roll down your cheek as you opened your eyes, "I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm gonna... I'm gonna head out-"

Leaning forward, Liam brushed his thumb against your cheek, wiping away the stray tear, "No, I... shit. I didn't mean you, I meant her. You're just having a good time and she's clearly got a problem with that."

Sending him a meek smile, you found yourself feeling a little more relaxed as his warm brown eyes watched you, "You heard that, then..."

"I think everyone heard that..." he shoved his hands into his jean pockets, "but she's jealous, you know? I would never invite you here under false pretenses... I just, you know... Enjoy spending time with you."

You forced down a deep breath, feeling like the exploding butterflies in your stomach would escape if given the chance. 

He could tell you were still embarrassed, and a little uncomfortable as he placed his arm around your shoulders, "C'mon, I've got something that will really take the edge off."  

The glass crunched under your sneakers as you made your way into the lounge, looking around at the destruction your father had caused. 

You'd visited the station a few times, once to give your statement, and the rest to try and speak to someone about bailing your dad out. You'd gone in guns blazing, telling them you had no intentions of pressing charges and that it was all a misunderstanding, but you were simply told that an attorney intended to. 

Kicking off, you were quickly escorted out with the threat of being arrested yourself.

You were told he was put on a 48-hour hold, his past DUI really coming back to bite him in the ass and the cost of the bail was enough to make you lose all hope. A bail bond agent would be your only option.

Grabbing the broom from the closet, you ignored your pounding head and began to sweep up some of the glass. You had a party to prepare for, after all.

"How are you feeling?"

Everything sounded slow as if you were swimming underwater. The drowsiness was bad enough, but every time you managed to open your eyes, the blurred vision was enough to make you slam them back shut.

It sounded awful but... You felt relaxed, just as Liam had promised. Sure, weed was great at calming you, too, but when Liam escorted you into a spare bedroom, his friends all sat around snorting a powder from the bedside cabinet, you felt like you couldn't say no.

"I, uh... You know. Good. I feel good."

You were aware enough to know your speech was slurred, but couldn't find it in yourself to give a shit. You did feel good. Just tired. Very tired.

Your head rested against Liam's shoulder as you were snuggled into his side. You don't remember how or when you came outside, sitting around the fire pit with his friends, but the party had seemingly calmed down, and you could only make out a few different voices.

"Maybe the drinks before were a little too much," he chuckled, watching your head fall forwards a few times, the motion pulling you from sleep, "C'mon, you can't go home like this."

Tripping over your feet, Liam gently guided you back into the house, ignoring the wolf whistles from his friends. 

Kicking the door shut behind him, Liam led you toward the bed, laying you down gently after he'd pulled back the duvet, "You should sleep it off. Fair warning, you'll most likely feel like shit tomorrow."

Totally unaware of his warning, you were already passed out.

Pushing your way past the large crowd that had congregated in your living room, you needed to find some peace and quiet.

You used to love parties, after you began to hang around with Liam and his friends, you attended one every weekend and hung out at an abandoned warehouse that the group would often refer to as the 'Factory' on school nights, getting high without the worry of someone's parents walking in.

You didn't have that problem right now.

Shouldering a drunken teen out of the way, your body ached with the contact. Whilst your nose had been bloody, and your lip split, the majority of injuries you'd received were from the fall down the stairs. Bruises and cuts from the glass littered your body, and sometimes you'd have a sharp pain in your ribs whenever you'd inhale too deeply, but with the looming price of your father's bond, you couldn't afford to go to ER. 

So you settled for a much less expensive way of soothing the pain. It was as if reminding yourself about your body aches caused them to hurt more, and you rubbed your wrist as you made your way outside to the small garden.

"Move." Your tone was stern, leaving no room for arguments as your classmate jumped up from the plastic chair, allowing you to settle into it instead.

You had binged your way through your pill supply, both with Rue and alone. You couldn't deny that you had pushed the girl away recently. You didn't mean to, but you liked to be alone when you wallowed in self-pity.

After what felt like only a few moments of peace, a loud sigh came from someone who practically threw themselves next to you, "Everything OK?"

Maybe you were stupid to invite him and his friends. Hell, you didn't know who half the people at this party were. It was an odd feeling, wanting to be alone but around people. You couldn't explain it, let alone begin to understand it.

Rue's Mom had offered you a place to stay after her daughter had filled her in on what happened, but after a few days, you returned home, worried about being able to hide your habits from her, and not wanting to pull Rue down with you.

"Just in pain," you told him truthfully, trying to ignore the way his dark eyes lingered on your bruised wrist.

"You uh... You haven't got anything for it?"

Shaking your head, you looked up toward the stars, barely able to see them because of the city lights, "My, uh... dealer... He's in between stock right now."

"And Devon?"

"Said he had to head out of town for something."

Liam watched you as you deflated a little. He could tell you were in the throws of a withdrawal from something, "Well, lucky I saw him before he left then."

Your eyes flung open, watching him quietly for a moment before sitting forward in your seat, "What have you got?"

"Does it matter?" His brow raised as he tried to hide a smirk. And in all honesty... No. It didn't matter. At this rate, you'd take anything he had to offer.

It would be funny, if it wasn't so sad, how quickly you could fall back into old patterns.

"I don't care, Rue. I ain't goin'."

"C'mon Fez, if not for her, then for me. I don't wanna be surrounded by her old, rich asshole friends."

A humorless laugh escaped him as he leaned into the sofa, "Neither do I. Which is exactly why I ain't goin'. You don't need to either if you don't wanna."

Rue couldn't fault Fez's logic. She didn't want to go, so why should she? The only answer she had, was guilt.

She was the reason your father was currently sitting behind bars awaiting a court date, and she was the reason why you'd clearly spiraled into an addiction Rue didn't quite expect from you.

Yes, you took drugs recreationally, and you often drank with them, too. It might've been excessive but... She knew you were currently binging on them, already telling you that you'd run out of your supply. You were popping pills like candy, so she couldn't find it surprising. Remembering her own outburst at Fez when he refused to fuel her own addiction, Rue was glad you hadn't bothered him, knowing he didn't have anything to sell.

Watching Rue as she appeared lost in her own world, Fez sighed, "Look, I know you been feelin' guilty about all that shit with her Dad, but don't, alright? It's on him, no one else. He's just lucky the cops turned up fo' me."

Rue turned her attention to Fez, watching as he lounged on the couch inconspicuously, yet she saw his fingers sink between the cushions, content once he found the cold handle of a gun.

"What were you gonna do?"

Making her way toward the other couch, Rue sat herself down, watching him attentively. 

"Kill him." Fez didn't even hesitate, causing Rue to release a long sigh.

"Shit man. You got it fuckin' bad."

Fez's face scrunched up as he rubbed a hand over his head, deep in thought. Rue didn't know everything, he was sure of that. But it seemed she did know something.

"We friends, Rue. You know that."

Shaking her head, Rue pushed herself up, "Bullshit. You're both so fucking annoying. You coming to the party, or not?"

He wanted to, even if just to check you were OK. Rue wasn't exactly forthcoming with her answers when he'd ask, and that somehow made him feel **worse**. He was certain she was hiding something, but he knew she was just trying to protect you, and calling her out on her bullshit wouldn't get him anywhere. He knew Rue, and he knew that she needed to ask for help before she'd accept any.

But Fez knew damn well he wouldn't be welcome, and coming to your house was asking for drama that he wouldn't partake in. You already felt betrayed by him, he didn't intend to twist the knife by showing up.

Taking his silence for an answer, Rue released an annoyed groan before making her way out.

He watched as she left, following her to the door to lock it, confused when she turned around and sighed, “Grow some balls, Fez.”

 He could've called her out on the comment, telling her that he was only neck deep in shit because he covered for her, knowing damn well you would probably never speak to him again.

But friends didn't do that shit to each other. So instead, he let her stomp down the road, praying that you had the sense to keep yourself safe tonight. But he couldn't let himself dwell on it, he was meeting up with a new dealer in a couple of days, hoping that he could partner with her considering Mouse's... absence.

Then, he had a date with Nate Jacobs.

[teklarn]

hi, this is my first ever ask so I'm not sure I'm doing this correctly, if that's the case I'm sorry; I don't know how tumblr works just yet >:')

would it be possible for you to write something about bakugo, pining incredibly hard for fem!reader and initially hating how strongly he feels about her? because they're not even friends, they only exchange few words occasionally and she doesn't even glance at his way whereas he slowly finds himself unable to divert his eyes from her during classes? shes always with damn deku and his friends and doesn't even seem interested in him at all but his heart can't ignore the way she looks at him proudly whenever they spar together, the way she sends him small confident smiles as they fight each other with all they have; so he thinks that maybe, maybe he might have a chance. basically bakugo liking reader so much he's completely lost in self-hatred because he always thought feelings were for weak romantics and not great people like him, but everytime he sees reader doing some badass things (again, like sparring with him and basically matching his skills etc...) he's reminded of how badly he likes reader? but when he finally accepts he's fallen for reader, after ignoring and trying to forget about how she makes him feel, he masters up the courage to confess? and it's a very clumsy confession because he's awkward and has no idea how to deal with those feelings? and he tries so hard to make reader realise he's never been more serious than now? and reader is startled and speechless before rejecting him? and at that point he's just completely humiliated, so he nods and walks away.

it might be a little dramatic but I've always been into unrequited love and one-sided pining. thank you, its okay if you don't want to write about this, i'll understand <33

𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾

character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader (my hero academia) 

reblogs are greatly appreciated! 

a/n: AHHHHH this is so cute <33 honestly this is super exciting for me and this ask made me so happy, lovey. i’m fairly new to tumblr, i’m usually just a reader but i wanted to migrate here from wattpad so this made me so happy. here u are my love <33 i hope this lives up to what u wanted !! :)) a bit lengthy, but i had a lot of fun writing it !!! 

summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you. 

genre: fluffy, fluffier than the clouds istg, however the clouds are sprinking a little teeny weeny droplet of angst. 

warnings: cursing (bakugou, duhh), one-sided pining (on bakugou’s part) second hand embarrassment (on bakugou’s part bc we can all agree he’s a complete idiot when it comes to trying to get someone’s attention), just bakugou being a jackass, i gave the reader a quirk 

word count: 3,859 

(pls excuse any typos or mistakes, i edited to the best of my ability but i miss some things sometimes !) 

- - - 

part 2 is here my loves <3

brutal. it was utterly ruthless. he couldn’t focus, couldn’t think right. his hands were already exceptionally sweaty, but gosh when he saw your damn face, he was ready to explode. literally. 

what the hell was it about you? was it your stupid smile? or the way you just seemed to carry every battle on your back? was it all the undeniably sweet things you do for others ‘just because’? 

it made him angry that he thought about you, but gosh he couldn’t wait to see you every day. 

just like any other day, bakugou found himself staring at the large door to the classroom, awaiting the moment you would bounce into his day, skirt shifting around your legs, bag slung loosely around your shoulders. 

his leg was bouncing eagerly. 

bakugou didn’t know when the feelings came. his cheeks just started flaring up all of a sudden and one day you just looked...different. you hadn’t done anything different to yourself. it was just him. not that he would ever admit that, to you or anybody else. 

you were insufferable. you were stupid and obnoxious and so...so damn... 

“y/n! come look at this!” 

you’d come walking into class just as expected, and as soon as you did, that stupid nerd had called you over. 

it didn’t help that deku sat right behind him, either. the two of you had recently gotten closer. bakugou noticed it last month when he yelled at the two of you to shut up about all might and get to work. he’d turned around to find you leaning over deku, hands resting on his shoulders while you peered at his phone. 

“sorry, bakugou,” you’d said, barely acknowledging him. you had waved him off like an annoying fly. is that all you were to him? some nuisance that got in the way of your oh-so-entertaining conversations with deku? 

all he heard nearly every day was your chipper voice talking to deku. always, “oh my gosh, midoriya, did you see the fight edgeshot was in last night?” or “midoriya! i have something to add to our quirk analysis book!” 

that was the one that took the cake. you two dorks shared a notebook, occasionally passed between one another, and filled it with junk about quirks and pro heroes. but no matter how much he tried to tune you out, no matter how he tried to zone off and think about something else, you were always there. it made him want to vomit how much he thought about you. 

you were doing an adorable shuffle over to midoriya’s desk and leaned over the table as you usually did while he angled his phone your way. “did you see this hero report?” 

deku let you slip the phone out of his grasp to get a better look. 

“no,” you breathed. “was this just recent?” 

“yeah,” deku said, taking the phone back. “last night.” 

“holy—” 

“can you guys shut up over there?” bakugou said, his voice quaking. 

“sorry, kacchan.” deku scrolled through the article. 

dammit, bakugou thought. “i wasn’t talking to you, nerd. i was talking to shitface over here.” he jerked his head towards you. his eyes flared in anger when he saw you were looking down at your phone, now focused in on the article yourself. “i was talking to you, asshat!” 

your eyes flicked up to his. you looked around for a moment before slowly pointing to yourself as if to say, “me?” 

his face scrunched. “yeah, you. you’re so damn loud.” gosh, he hated how his voice was cracking, how he could feel his ears and cheeks lighting up in a swollen, cherry red. his stomach flipped. 

she’s looking at you, gosh i’m sweating. i’m going to throw up. she’s so gorgeous. what the hell? they’re ugly as shit, i don’t think anything of them. 

his eyes bore into yours. 

“did you...need something?” 

your voice broke his trance. 

“kacchan, are you okay? you dozed off there for a second. you look like you’re burning up.” 

bakugou looked to deku who was currently stretching out of his seat, arm extended. he pressed the back of his hand to bakugou’s forehead. “you’re really warm, kacchan. should we call recovery girl?” 

it took him a moment to realize what was happening. his vision got blurry every time he was with you. bakugou smacked deku’s hand away. “i’m fine!” his voice lifted at the end, cracking. “i’m not sick. don’t you think i’d take better care of myself?” 

“i don’t doubt you take good care of yourself, kacchan, but everyone gets sick once in a while. there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

“i never get sick!” besides, if i got sick, i wouldn’t want you to be the one taking care of me. 

he was still pissed. he was always in a bad mood, however, more so right now because you’d gone straight back to your phone and that stupid hero article that was supposedly so damn interesting. 

soon enough, the bell rang, and you were seated at your desk. it was jirou’s old spot, however, after much convincing, you two had switched spots so you could be closer to deku. just a few months of getting close to the idiot and you two are suddenly best friends. jirou hadn’t minded one tiny bit, claiming she needed a break from how loud that section of the room was. 

late as always, aizawa came trudging into your room. thankfully, his entire body wasn’t obscured by a yellow sleeping bag that smelled of something unwashed and coffee and gasoline. (for some reason, aizawa’s clothes always smelled of it.) 

“lucky for you,” he began while shuffling papers on his desk, “all of you are doing training for these first periods.”

the class cheered in perfect unison, followed by their individual chatter. you had erupted with glee along with them, and bakugou was sure he felt his heart clench and then explode. just a tiny bit. but he shoved the feeling down just as quickly as it had come up. 

“go out to the field and wait for further instructions. don’t make a sound in the halls otherwise, i’ll expel all of you.” 

this shut everyone up in almost a second, the sound draining out just as water does. the first years trailed out into the hall, single-file mimicking the positions baby ducklings would take when following their mother. 

bakugou found himself walking faster when he saw you take up your spot in the line, hoping to land his spot right behind you. 

unfortunately, this idiot who considered himself bakugou’s friend tugged him back. “bakugou!” a familiar voice rasped. 

“shitty hair, let go of me.” 

“hey man, chill out. wanna partner up if we’re doing training in pairs?” 

bakugou glanced at the line, the spot that should have been reserved for him now taken up by sato. 

bakugou tugged his sleeve from kirishima’s hand. “whatever,” he snapped. 

“sounds good!” kirishima flashed him a toothy grin and a thumbs-up. the bubbly feeling in bakugou’s chest died down as he stood behind sato, the overwhelming scent of sugar filling his nose, various candies that would go straight to your arteries. 

“you smell like ass, damn,” bakugou remarked, squeezing his nostrils together. 

luckily, sato was tall enough to not hear the insult, as he towered over bakugou by just another head. the line began moving like a sloppy train down to the change rooms. 

bakugou scoffed as he listened to your giggle. he should be making you laugh. 

- 

“you’ll be given partners randomly from this box.” aizawa held up a familiar red box. “inside are all your names. i’ll select one, then that person will come up and pick another name from the box. that will be your assigned partner for today. as soon as you have your assigned partner, i want you guys to get straight to work.” 

denki raised a hand, speaking before being called on. “sensei, why are we getting random partners? we’re always allowed to choose.” 

“in the real world, you’re going to come across different villains every day. you’ll never improve your skills or your quirks if you keep fighting the same person.” 

denki sighed, slumping back. 

dammit, bakugou thought, gritting his teeth together. there wasn’t any way he wanted to be partners with you. it’s obvious he’d win the fight in the first few seconds. 

yes! exactly right! bakugou internally grinned. his fluctuating feelings had finally soothed themselves. you were just another extra, and he had no room for you in his head. 

aizawa took a moment to fiddle with the slips of paper inside the box. soon enough, he pulled out a name. “todoroki.” 

todoroki walked up, digging his hand into the box when aizawa held it out for him. he pulled out a name, delicately unraveling the slip. “uraraka, you’re my partner.” he deadpanned. 

the brunette grinned. “great!” 

the two found their own spot on the field, and the class’s attention was once again diverted to their grouchy teacher as he pulled out another name. 

“bakugou.” 

bakugou strutted up without a worry in his mind. he pulled a name to find... 

“y/n,” he said, voice a low growl. instead of the annoying fluttering in his chest, his eyes met yours, and they were filled with a different, new ferocity. he crumpled the paper in one hand, letting it twirl to the ground. 

you looked at him, unsmiling. your eyes gave away nothing, and to bakugou’s knowledge, all you saw in him was another opponent. 

it took him a moment to realize you had both locked eyes for about a minute. perhaps the two of you would have stayed as you were if aizawa hadn’t snapped at the two of you to get moving as yaomomo’s name was called. 

bakugou was on his way to the back of the field, you followed close behind. while there was plenty of room still, he chose a secluded area. while it was still open enough to view everything going on so nobody got hurt, it was often nobody chose to train here. for whatever reason, you weren’t sure. 

“wait up, bakugou,” you said. after a bit, you caught up to him. 

“if you can’t keep up, then...” then what? he looked at you from the side of his eye. “then don’t keep up...” gosh, here came the embarrassing, disgusting feeling of redness in his cheeks. 

you laughed. “what?” 

“shut up.” 

“you’re an idiot, bakugou.” 

“i said shut the hell up!”

“what, so you can call me shitface in front of the entire class but you get all pissed when i call you an idiot?” 

so you had heard him! 

he tongued his cheek, curling his hands around an invisible ball, explosions sparking in the centers of his palms. “don’t expect me to hold back, dumbass.” 

“i wouldn’t dream of it.” 

gosh he loved that about you. 

bakugou caught his thought in the air. 

ahem...gosh he hated that about you. 

you both charged in at the same time. his cry was louder than yours, but you struck first. 

he admired your quirk. while he’d overhead you explaining all the drawbacks it had, it was strong, and you were strong because you knew how to control it. 

purple arrows flew from your arms, going in your desired directions. if you lost focus for one moment, they’d vanish and weaken. if you focused too hard or long, you’d be plagued by a splitting headache. 

he’d spent too much time obsessing over your strengths and weaknesses.  

your arrows were weightless, however they were solid objects capable of carrying any mass, any thing, and worked as extensions of your body. 

the violet arrow had shot out at him, twisting around his right gauntlet and crushing inwards. it’d snaked around him without him noticing, slithering along his back. 

bakugou struggled to get the air-light arrow off his wrist, but it was no use. he glared back, only to see your focused, furrowed brows. he’d expected to see your cocky ass smiling. it was nice to see you weren’t. 

that was one thing that had also caught his eye. you never underestimate your opponent, but you never underestimate yourself, either. 

you conjured a larger arrow. it snaked around your right arm as you hurled bakugou into the air, releasing your grasp on him. you shot your other arrow into the air, and it raced into the sky. 

it swerved. bakugou’s eyes went wide as the tip of the arrow came down on his chest. if they weren’t intangible things, he would have been bleeding out. 

another drawback: the arrows, while they could solidify, they couldn’t do any actual damage. you had to use your surroundings to inflict harm on your opponent. 

he coughed out as the arrow shot him into the ground. he hadn’t even touched you, and here he was, vulnerable and so...so... 

you stood over him, hands on your hips. 

vulnerable and so lost in that adorable, winning smile. 

“get away from me, idiot,” he grunted and turned onto his side, his back crying out in pain. 

“i think i won this fight, bakugou,” you chirped, rocking on your heels. 

“don’t get arrogant, shithead. you won’t be winning against me anymore.” 

you grinned, arrows shooting out behind your back. 

- 

the dorms were exceptionally quiet. you were typing away in the common room, bakugou on the couch reading. everyone was off doing something else. it was the weekend, luckily. he’d expected you to go bounding out with everyone else, however you’d stayed back, claiming you had some homework to catch up on. 

bakugou being classic bakugou had stayed back. he was excited to have the dorm to himself, but your dumbass was stuck here with him. couldn’t you have done your typing in your room? 

you were so aggressive on that poor keyboard. 

“oi, quiet down with your shit typing.” 

you barely grunted in response. 

“don’t ignore me.” 

“i heard you, mom.” 

“the hell did you call me?” 

no response. only your aggressive typing is a bit less aggressive. 

“i can still hear it,” bakugou remarked, eyes fixed on your back. 

“‘kay,” you said. your typing slowed a tad, and your pressure on the keys lessened. 

it was quiet now. bakugou should go back to his book. he shouldn’t still be looking for a reason to talk to you. 

the pages crinkled in his fingers. he bit his tongue, keeping his snarky comments in. 

“you’re a fucking idiot, you know that? doing your damn homework. it’s due tomorrow.” 

you turned, pursing your lips. “and how would you know what i’m working on? are you stalking me?” 

“i- what? no. you’re such an idiot, of course i’m not—” 

“i’m messing with you,” you breathed, face un-moving. 

“o-oh,” bakugou stuttered out. he blinked awkwardly. 

“gosh, what’s gotten your panties in a twist?” 

“you’re annoying.” 

“you’re a jackass.” you returned to your work. bakugou settled with reading in his room. reading consisted of jumping onto his bed just as the stereotypical high school girl would in an eighties movie. he buried his face in his pillow, face burning bright red. he cursed you for making him feel this way, and hated himself even more for how much he enjoyed it. 

- 

the next day came swiftly. you’d left early to go train with midoriya. there were many improvements needed to be made, but you weren’t doing too bad.

you propelled yourself forwards with an arrow, and your green-haired friend shot back, lightning flickering around his body. 

landing back on the ground, you panted and swiped the sweat from your brow. from the corner of your eye, you could make out both kirishima and bakugou coming to the training grounds. 

bakugou stopped in his tracks, frowning at the sight of you. 

it was evident he hated you a bit more than everyone else. he was always making his annoying comments, he was always snubbing you. you saw no reason to talk to him, so you didn’t. either way, even if you tried, he would still get angry for no reason. 

it’d taken you quite some time to get used to his obnoxious attitude. tuning him out had been the best course of action, in your opinion. 

the way you and midoriya had bonded was through bakugou, in a way. the first day of school, bakugou had snapped at you for tripping over your laces and nearly crashing into him. later that day, midoriya had stepped up and apologized for his old friend’s actions. 

you two had never been too close until now. the recent incidents going on with the league of villains had snagged your attention, and it seemed you were the only person who didn’t mind listening to him ramble on about heroes. 

you were just as passionate and just as dorky, but midoriya could talk your ear off. you never minded, and he always took the hint when you didn’t want to listen. 

you brought your leg up, twirling in the air with ease and watched your heel collide with midoriya’s face. he grunted, stumbling back. 

you were about to charge in again when a hand landed on your shoulder, big and rough. you turned to see bakugou standing behind you, a scowl on his face. 

“fight me again,” he demanded. 

“excuse me?” 

“don’t act like you didn’t hear me.” 

“i’m in the middle of fighting midoriya right now.” 

“so?”

“so if you think that i’m just going to ditch my friend because you want to fight, i won’t.” 

“you’re being stubborn.” 

“i’m being reasonable. back off.” 

“y/n?” midoriya rubbed his jaw—right where you had struck him. “what’s going on?” he jogged up to you and bakugou. 

“he wants to fight me in the middle of our fight. it’s nothing serious. don’t worry about it, midoriya. let’s just ignore him.” 

bakugou made a sound someone would only make if they were choking. “the hell did you just say?” 

“we’re ignoring you!” you waved him off and placed your hand on midoriya’s shoulder, wandering away. 

-

it was new to him, not getting what he wanted. and what he wanted right now was to be around you. again, it wasn’t like he would ever admit that to himself. 

“dude? you good? i thought you went off to fight y/n. i was so ready to cheer you on, dude,” kirishima’s chipper voice piped in. “she’s not fighting with you? why not?” 

“the dumbass was just probably scared of getting her ass beat by me.” 

“dude...that sounds really weird.” 

“whatever, shitty hair. let’s go.” 

- 

the clock ticked. his ears were on fire. again. 

gosh, it was happening again. it was all you. his face scrunched up, his voice would surely crack if someone were to ask him what was wrong. 

bakugou was once again stuffing his face in his pillow, hiding his expression from no one. why did you have to go train with that shitty nerd? why were you always around deku? deku, of all people. what did he have? why was he so great? 

bakugou was a man of many insecurities, but losing to deku? that was possibly his biggest fear. 

perhaps he wasn’t the nicest, or the most soft person out there. bakugou could admit that, at least. but he was smarter than deku. he was stronger and he was better and people liked him more. right? 

what was so...amazing about deku? 

it was often bakugou would find himself obsessing over little, insignificant things such as these. 

you were what he was thinking of most of the time. just yesterday, he’d gotten a test returned. he was expecting an eighty at the lowest, but more so expecting a high ninety. it’d come back exactly sixty percent. 

sixty. percent.

bakugou vividly remembered staring at your face. he also remembered not being able to focus because of it. his grades were dropping because of you. 

you were the only person to be able to do this to him. 

his heart grew quiet, but the pounding of his didn’t cease. he lifted his head. 

“alright, fine,” he said aloud. “you win, y/n. you win.” 

he settled with getting over his feelings the way he’d read them in his collection of romance manga. 

bakugou left his room and knocked on your door. (he was banging on it, but it was his nice way of knocking.) 

you answered, looking around awkwardly. “yes?” 

his hands shook. how was this supposed to go? sure, he’d seen it in romance movies and read it in books but it was always easy to tell whether the guy would get the girl or not. 

in this instance, bakugou was clueless. for once in his life, he was clueless. you stood, tapping your foot with a hand on your hip, waiting expectantly for him to tell you why he was here. 

“um.” he scratched behind his neck. “you uh- i uh...i’m sorry i called you a, um...a shitface.” 

“okay? is that it?” 

what? come on! it was already unlike him to apologize. what else did you want from him? 

“did you...i’ve been thinking, maybe? maybe we could..train together as...friends?”  

“...what?” 

gosh dammit, as friends? 

“whatever, um...the uh...” oh gosh, what did the boys do in all the books he’d read? right! bakugou stretched out his arm, resting his forearm on the door, leaning to the side. 

although he didn’t, really, because like the clumsy jackass he was, bakugou missed completely and nearly toppled to the floor. 

this earned a snicker from you. 

his stomach flipped and churned, and bakugou found himself unable to reach your eyes. “uh, would you maybe..? okay, um. do you want to go on a date with me? you absolute fucking dumbass.” 

your eyes flew wide. “...what?” 

“no, that’s not what i— i mean i didn’t mean the last part. um, i meant the first part. the first two parts. the part where i was asking you if you wanted to go on a date with me and then before that when i said maybe because it’s still a maybe until you say yes. or...or no because that’s an option too.” 

he swallowed. 

you resisted the urge to mock him, just a little bit. “um, bakugou, listen.” 

he leaned closer. “yes?” 

“it’s going to be a no. i’m sorry, but i’m just not interested in you like that.” 

it took him a moment to register everything. his shoulders sagged. gosh that was brutal. 

“oh, alright.” 

“yeah, uh, sorry about that.” you offered him a weak smile, still a bit shocked yourself. he did his best to return it, and when you closed the door, his face was ready to explode. 

it was so damn difficult to deal with these feelings, but maybe it was better this way. knowing where you stood on your end, he knew he wouldn’t miss out on anything. 

perhaps it was alright to admire from afar. things could happen in the future, right? 

right now, he’d just wait. for a long, long time. bakugou pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat. maybe it was alright to not have you right now. perhaps he could better himself for you. just for you. 

[therealvinelle]

How do you believe Carlisle feels about Esme? How would their break up go? Would he ever cheat on her? I mean like emotionally?

He loves her.

I don’t doubt that his feelings for Esme are genuine, that he respects and cherishes her and wishes to spend his life with her. Esme, too, worships the man.

My complete lack of faith in this ship comes from the fact that they’re together for the wrong reasons and not compatible. 

The Bad Beginning

Carlisle had spent centuries searching for likeminded, he never did. In the end he succumbs and starts creating his own, first Edward and then Esme, and to his joy they both agree to do the diet.

Esme’s transformation was entirely an impulse on his end. He saw this delightful, vivacious young woman he’d known ten years ago lie broken and dying in the morgue, a Jane Doe declared dead, she was all too easy to steal. She was too far gone for him to have time to think it over, and so he went «alright let’s do this. I imagine it seemed rather like God had sent her to that morgue specifically. We learn from Midnight Sun that romance wasn’t on his mind at all (even if it was, that wouldn’t make their marriage more functional) and he expected nothing of her. He bit her because he didn’t want Esme Platt to die.

Esme, of course, wakes up into this new life under surreal, heavenly circumstances. Her child is still dead - but here is the mythic, pedestaled Dr. Cullen, now her savior and more wonderful than ever. To back myself up with the books:

Esme had already been in love with Carlisle—much to his shock—but not through any mystical, magical means. She’d met Carlisle as a girl and, drawn to his gentleness, wit, and otherworldly beauty, formed an attachment that had haunted her for the rest of her human years. Life had not been kind to Esme, and so it was not surprising that this golden memory of a good man had never been supplanted in her heart. After the burning torment of transformation, when she’d awakened to the face of her long-cherished dream, her affections were entirely his. (Midnight Sun, chapter Bloodtype)

Carlisle, on his end, hadn’t had the idea at all until Edward said “Dude, she’s into you, go for it.”

I’d been on hand to caution Carlisle about her unforeseen reaction. He’d expected that she would be shocked by her transformation, traumatized by the pain, horrified by what she’d become, much as I had been. He’d expected to have to explain and apologize, to soothe and to atone. He knew there was a good chance that she would have preferred death, that she would despise him for the choice made without her knowledge or consent. So the fact that she had been immediately prepared to join this life—not really the life, but to join him—was not something he was ready for.

He’d never seen himself as a possible object of romantic love before that moment. It seemed contrary to what he was—a vampire, a monster. The knowledge I gave him changed the way he looked at Esme, the way he looked at himself.

More than that, it was very a powerful thing, choosing to save someone. It was not a decision any sane individual made lightly. (sic)

I’m not entirely void of authorial intent - I get that this was supposed to be romcom where the cute nerdy guy has no idea the girl is interested. 

But, what I see is that after centuries of being alone, never finding anybody who shared his values, Carlisle finally has these two people who share his ideals, the only two in the world. He’s had countless friends, but it never worked out because of that damn diet. But, now he has these two people, and one of them is a beautiful, kind, wonderful woman who’s in love with him.

I imagine falling for Esme was easy. It was just so perfect, simply by being Carlisle Cullen he could make her happier than any other man, and given their shared diet, he wanted her by his side always, just as he did Edward. And this was it for him, really, to Carlisle Cullen Esme might as well be the only woman in the world because she’s the only one who'll share his lifestyle. He also felt responsible for her.

I don’t at all doubt their sincerity or affection for one another.

However, they did not fall for each other for each other’s sakes. Esme fell for the ideal since childhood, and Carlisle fell because she was perfect. Stick them in an AU and it won’t happen.

The Slippery Slope

Where they run into trouble is firstly that Esme doesn’t share these ideals, nor value human life for its own sake. Now, I’m not asking her to be a saint - but over the course of these books we had some lapses that I find pretty damning. 

She wanted Edward back in Forks, when this would almost certainly mean the death of Bella Swan, simply because to Esme having Edward nearby > a person’s life. This wasn’t the case for Carlisle, he made it extremely clear he wanted Edward to leave.

During the “Kill Bella?” vote, she was in favor of whatever meant Edward would stay.

Carlisle, having failed to get anywhere with talking sense into Edward, sends him home to his mother for an intervention. What happens next is that Esme gives Edward her blessing to eat the delicious girl if he wants to. Now, we can’t know specifically the talk Carlisle and Esme had before this, but I can’t imagine it was this. Also, damn, what a miscommunication.

Esme simply doesn’t have a problem with the deaths of individual humans, and she will put her loved ones above all other things, even if it’s a minor inconvenience. Keeping Bella alive only becomes her priority after Edward makes it clear he wants this.

Now, Carlisle’s standards have been worn down over the centuries, he just wants his family to try not to eat people on purpose, that’s how low the bar is. Tragically for his marriage, Esme is stumbling over said bar.

The further trouble they run into is that I don’t think they’re very compatible people.

Esme means well, but she’s peculiar, to put it extremely nicely. Her ambition in life is to LARP the human life, right down to being a master chef of something her species can’t eat, which could be sweet if she did other things. She doesn’t, the closest she gets is designing homes for her family. There’s being single-minded, and then there’s Esme, who appears to have honed herself into someone who exists only to be the housewife.

This leads to bizarre behavior - for instance in Midnight Sun when Edward has realized he’s in love, he sits around laughing to himself like a lunatic while playing the piano. Something happens with Rosalie, who runs out of the house in humiliation. Esme, responding to all this, gives her infamous “the best and brightest of us all” pep talk.

It’s just such a weird scene, even accounting for the inhumanity of Twilight vampires this is weird.

Mostly, thought, it is Esme’s interests and desires in life that I find so at odds with Carlisle’s. She wants to be an improved human, living the shinier, better, life without actually embracing the inhumanity of vampirism, while Carlisle is doing the human thing because he wants to be a doctor and save lives. Before that, he was travelling the world, living with normal vampires, using his eternity to study and pursue meaning in life. Now, they end up in the same place, with similar goals - wanting to blend in with humans - but the motivation is the polar opposite.

Which in turn means that as the world turns and their lives inevitably change, the way they live will have to change. This will spell trouble.

There’s also me having a strong suspicion these two don’t have much of a physical relationship, if any. Meyer specifically referred to their relationship as spiritual, and that fits the vibe we get from them in the books. Quite notably, Rosalie and Emmett were impossible to be around when they were newlyweds, while Carlisle and Esme weren’t a problem at all. 

Not to mention what Esme longed for all those years was very much an ideal of a man, which to me doesn’t immediately point to a very physical attraction.

The Penultimate Peril

Would he cheat on her, you ask. Answer is yes, they’re both cheating emotionally with Edward. No. 

He’s with her because he wants to be, and feels responsible for her. More, developing the kinds of feelings necessary for an emotional affair isn’t really on the table for him, since everyone else in the world is either a. one of his kids or the Denali, b. an unrepentant man-eating demon. So, unless Tanya’s feeling frisky, Carlisle doesn’t have anybody to cheat with.

(I’m here defining an emotional affair, which as I understand it is a bit hard to define, as a romantic, but non-physical entanglement. The cheating party has to know their partner wouldn’t be cool with it for it to count in my eyes.)

As for physically cheating on her, nope. God no, not ever. Unless something really convoluted like the plot of Blue Moon unfolded, but that’s really more a case of Esme pimping out her husband to her daughter-in-law, so everyone’s to blame here.

The end

I think the breakup can happen in any number of ways, but I think either way it will be sudden. 

These two aren’t going to go “you know, I think we’ve grown apart” because Esme would never acknowledge that nevermind walk up to Carlisle and say it, and if Carlisle realized things aren’t working he’d still want to stick it out for her sake.

I think it’ll be sudden, it’ll happen as the immovable object that is them is hit by an unstoppable force. One will go someplace the other can’t follow. Maybe when the Cullen coven splits down the middle, and they’re on each their own side of the chasm, or maybe some other cause entirely.

It’ll devastate them both, but given the people these two are, I think it’s inevitable.

[tenthgrove]

Hello, I just saw that you opened your request. I'm the one who ended up writing a whole prompt! Imagine this for each member from La Squadra: they had an one-night stand with a random woman, she accidentally got pregnant and decided to have the baby without telling them. After a while, the woman got ill and passed away, but not without before sending her child with their father (let's imagine she has the direction of their hideout even if it's ooc, or she knew where they hang out). So, one day someone knocks the door and introduces themselves as the kid of one of the members/if it's too young, someone left them on the door with a explainatory note... How do you think each member would react by discovering that they have a child and they're supposed to take care of them from now? You can make each kid with different ages if you want, it would be funny to see Prosciutto or Ghiaccio dealing with a rebellious teenage son or Risotto trying to take care of a toddler, but I guess not all of them would want to keep their children. Sorry if it's a lot, haha.

La Squadra did a Diavolo

La Squadra x Reader, Platonic/Familial, SFW

A/N: your idea about mixing up the ages got me thinking, and I ended up using randomisers for the children’s ages (though I did consciously change some of them) and genders. It added a fun bit of chance to this prompt.

Formaggio, with an 8 year old daughter

The whole thing feels surreal to him. There's a little girl on his doorstep calling herself his daughter and by all evidence, it's true. He doesn't really know how to feel about it at first. On one hand it's kind of cool he had a kid all this time and you're clearly a lovely girl, but on the other hand, what the fuck? Still, not being the practical sort, his sense of sentiment far outweighs any question of how he's actually going to look after a child, so without much deliberation, Formaggio agrees to let you stay.

Formaggio isn't too experienced with kids but he doesn't exactly dislike them either, so he figures he knows what to do. At your age you can at least do the basics of looking after yourself, so he isn't too worried. The only problem is that if you ask him to cook for you or help clean your room, his eyes go very wide. He never quite picked up those skills himself, he's afraid, so you're going to have to ask someone else for that one.

The good news is that Formaggio is a very easy-going, fun sort of dad, who is a natural at playing with you and lets you do what you want when he can't be around. He quickly gets used to showing affection to you, letting you cuddle up to him on the sofa in front of the squad and even carrying you around once in a while. He gives amazing piggy back rides.

The bad news (or more good news, depending on how you are) is that you have to leave school. Risotto says that at your age you can't be trusted not to tell anyone your new family is a bunch of assassins, and taking you to and from school each day would be too much of a hassle. Nonetheless, you're welcome to continue your education from home, though Formaggio will hardly push you if you don't keep up with it. Melone is much better on that front.

Despite the risk, Formaggio can't bring himself to force you to lose all your friends, so he lets you keep meeting with them. Furthermore, he knows a few guys in other squads who have kids about your age, so he's happy to introduce you to them if you want a friend you can be more honest about your home life with. Formaggio might not have a clue what he's doing, but he's doing pretty good.

Illuso, with a 3 year old daughter

He's been fearing this day would come for years. A small child knocking on the door of the hideout, holding a note in hand addressed to him, just as a shady looking car drives away. Yeah, Illuso remembers your mother pretty well and he remembers the distinct lack of precautions they took during their encounter. Now, the consequences of his actions are here at his house, and Risotto is currently standing in the doorway of the office looking ready to give him the biggest dressing-down of his life.

After his tongue-lashing, Illuso frantically agrees to take responsibility for what he's done and see to it that you're well cared for, and begins the task of looking for relatives who might take you. Unfortunately, none of your mother's family can be traced, and Illuso can't exactly call up his own right now. Leaving you on the door of an orphanage isn't an option because you're old enough to say where you've come from, so it looks like for the time being, Illuso is stuck with you.

Initially, Illuso is not thrilled. He pawns you off on Melone, Sorbet and Gelato whenever possible and tries to live his life as before. But increasingly, he can't help finding himself visiting your room whenever he's stressed or has had a bad mission. There's something so pure about gently stroking your hair as you sleep. He can't help but feel... attachment, as he rubs his thumb against your tiny palm.

From then on, Illuso starts to make a point of spending more time with you. You're at the age where you just want to touch and explore everything you're given, so letting you make a mess with his makeup and beauty creams is an easy way for him to observe and learn about you. He even starts doing the more practical things like washing and feeding you every so often.

Eventually, Illuso becomes an actual father to you. He loves you as a father should and puts his time into making you happy. Illuso is glad he didn't give you away, as you've opened his eyes to so many things. For the first time in many years, he feels human. He feels redeemable.

Prosciutto, with a 13 year old son

As you tell him your story Prosciutto racks his brains. He didn't have many one-night-stands in his youth but the ones he did have were so far back he barely remembers them, so your mother's name doesn't immediately ring any bells. If it weren't for the striking resemblance between you, Prosciutto probably would have thrown you out for a liar there and then. But as you are, it's clear you're being honest. He lets you in.

After a short interrogation by Risotto to make certain you aren't acting on behalf of some third party looking to infiltrate the squad, it's agreed you can stay, so long as you keep quiet about it to your friends. At your age you can largely look after yourself and all you really needed was a roof over your head, so there's no problem with you moving into the spare room as long as you stay out of the others' way.

Education isn't much of an issue either, since you're likely well settled in your current school and can get yourself there and back. Just whatever you do, don't go telling anyone you live with a bunch of gangsters now. Prosciutto means it, you could seriously put yourself in danger if you do that.

Much to your father's ire, you end up befriending several members of the squad, especially the younger ones like Melone, Ghiaccio and Pesci who have some generational overlap with how you were raised. Prosciutto would rather you didn't do this but at the end of the day, he can't really stop you. God forbid you call him an old boomer again.

Your relationship is overall positive- Prosciutto makes a point of taking you on outings when he has the time, and giving you parental advice when you need it. However that doesn't stop you from making fun of his stuffy, old habits, and playing the moral high ground in regards to his work.

On that note, the problem comes when you develop an interest in the squad's work. It's only inevitable, given how pervasive the topic is in conversations around the house, and the fact you're more than old enough to know what a gang is, but the day you first ask him about it is no less welcome. What's scary is that you're about the same age as Passione's youngest recruits and, well, if you ended up joining them because of him, Prosciutto might never forgive himself.

Pesci, with a 6 month old son

He knew it had been a mistake. Not long after his 18th birthday he'd given in to the squad's pestering about his virginity and finally gotten rid of it just to shut them up. Now he's ridden with guilt. Not only did the poor woman get pregnant because of him but now she's died. He can't help but wonder, the letter attached to the basket you came in was very vague after all, was your mother's death at all related to your birth? If so, Pesci doesn't know how he'll forgive himself.

Pesci immediately panics and stumbles into his Fra's bedroom crying louder than you are. Prosciutto remains calm, advising him to first make sure this actually is his baby through Melone, in case this is somebody trying to trick him, and to then think through his options rationally. As far as Prosciutto sees it, he has two. He can either see to it that you're taken in by a caring, reliable individual, or he can keep you for himself. Surprisingly, Prosciutto's actually okay with the second one, since in his eyes duty to one's family is absolute.

Pesci stammers a bit and asks if he can wait a few days to make his mind up, which Prosciutto permits. But it isn't long at all until Pesci is far too attached to you to ever let you go, and it becomes clear you'll be staying for the long-run. Risotto is hardly happy about this but agrees with Prosciutto's sentiment of family, so he doesn't try to insist you be sent away.

Pesci is an incredibly loving father. He'll dash from the other side of the house at a moment's notice if he hears you crying. That said, being so young himself it's inevitable he requires some help with raising you. Sorbet and Gelato chip in quite regularly, as does Melone when Pesci is desperate enough to fall on using him. Prosciutto helps out too, being your uncle, and occasionally you've even had Risotto answer your cries.

La Squadra can only hope their situation improves somehow in the coming years, since Pesci has no idea how he's going to deal with an older child in a house full of assassins. At very least, being so young it's a long time before he has to worry about things like school. For now, what's important is that you are loved very dearly. Pesci has discovered a new protective streak in himself, something he discovers every time he looks in your eyes.

Melone, with a 4 year old son

When you arrived you were frightened and confused. You struggled to babble out the story you were told to tell as the strange men crowded around you in the front room of the house. Then, a bizarre looking man with purple hair pushed to the front of the crowd, insisting he knew what to do in a situation like this. He carried you somewhere quiet, and gently asked you to repeat your story again. You told him you were looking for your father, Melone.

Melone is elated. He's always wanted a child, but getting into a relationship stable enough to produce one has never been an option with the life he lives. Now the happy accident he never new he had has come home to him! Carrying you back to the living room, Melone introduces you as his son and announces to the team that he will be keeping you.

This is met with some protest. Not only are you of the age where you'll need constant supervision, but quite frankly, nobody trusts Melone to take care of a kid. Melone refutes their accusations harshly, making it absolutely clear he will not be giving you up without a fight. Finally, Risotto surrenders, on the terms that if he catches any signs of abuse or neglect, he will see to it personally that you are re-homed elsewhere.

Melone's parenting style is relatively laid-back. He believes parents should be a 'safe base' from which children should explore the world, coming back when they need advice but ultimately following their own whims within reason. He encourages you to play as you wish and does not stop you from bonding with the rest of the squad. Finding supervision for you while he's on missions proves to be a non-issue, since his stand's massive range means he can often do most of a mission's work at home.

When the time comes to educate you, Melone decides against the risks of enrolling you in school. He is an amazing teacher and can teach you everything you'd need in half the hours of a typical curriculum. Beyond the essentials of literacy and simple maths, Melone largely encourages you to follow you own interests rather than stick to some boring, arbitrary list of useless things a normal curriculum for some reason expects you to learn.

That said, he knows the importance of making friends, so he frequently takes you out to meet with neighbourhood children. All-in-all, the squad is surprised at his sensible parenting choices, and the happy child you are turning out to be.

Ghiaccio, with a 2 year old son

It's almost comedic the lengths Ghiaccio goes to to avoid the problem. As the others crowd around you in Melone's lap, Ghiaccio cowers in the corner insisting that you absolutely cannot be his. It's very obvious you are, of course. You look almost exactly like him, and have a cry to match. You've even inherited the same, mild visual impairments that earned him his glasses. There's no getting away from the truth.

After accepting the truth, Ghiaccio takes you away to his room to 'clear his head' before deciding where to send you in the morning, but when morning comes, that deliberation time quickly turns into a few more days, then a month, then never. It's clear Ghiaccio's become attached to you, and he cannot bring himself to give you away.

Unfortunately, he doesn't have the foggiest clue in hell how to look after a toddler. He has a hard enough time understanding what it is adults want from him, let alone small children. There are times he even considers giving you away again, but they never last long enough for him to go through with it. Bit by bit, he slowly learns how to be a father.

Melone is his primary co-parent. As cautious as Ghiaccio is about letting him around his baby, it soon becomes clear Melone can understand your needs far better than he can. The pair have many sessions together teaching Ghiaccio how to do things like wash you or cook your food. It's honestly a massive help, and probably the main reason Ghiaccio doesn't completely melt down within a month of having you.

These issues aside, Ghiaccio is a person who is very genuine in his affections. He would break the shins of anyone who even looked at you threateningly, and every fibre of his being wants you to be happy. He even learns to control his temper, as he knows from experience just how damaging an angry parent can be for a child. He's going to give you a better childhood than what his parents gave him, and that's a promise.

Risotto, with a 6 year old daughter

Well, perhaps this ought to have been expected. In his early 20s Risotto was really far less careful than he ought to be in regards to his encounters, so he probably had this coming. You are at a difficult age, old enough to understand your father is a criminal but young enough to still need his care. If he takes you in, there will be many challenges. And yet he cannot bring himself to turn you away. Looking at you he feels... obligation.

In the early days he tries his best to shelter you. He keeps you in his room and tells the others not to talk to you. But that's no way for you to live, and he knows it. Eventually, he swallows his fears and lets you explore your new home, even taking you out to the park a few minutes each day so you can run around. He talks to Melone about continuing your education, and asks Sorbet and Gelato if they'd let the spare room next to them be turned into a bedroom for you. He's going to make sure he raises you right.

Risotto may be quiet and introverted, but do not mistake that for emotionally distant. He does not underestimate his vital role in your emotional well-being, and is quick to pick up on when you are feeling sad or lonely. He makes sure to pick you up in his arms and ask what's wrong when that happens.

Though he didn't know her well, he mourns your mother with you, and is very watchful for the signs of attachment issues that may result from losing a parent at such a tender age. Being all you have left, Risotto gains a new instinct of self-preservation. For the first time in years, his life has meaning.

In terms of bonding, he prefers calm activities that allow him to passively observe your interests, such as watching movies or reading you books. When he's working in his office and doesn't need his camera on, he's happy for you to sit in his lap as long as you're quiet. He would ask if you don't read what's on his screen, though, at least not while you're so young. He'll give you a better explanation of what he's doing some day, but not just yet.

Sorbet and Gelato, with a 12 year old daughter

First of all, let's make clear that regardless of which one is biologically your father, they both feel equal responsibility for you. No doubt they were both present for your conception anyway, so as far as they're concerned, if one of them has a secret kid from a hookup, they both have a secret kid from a hookup.

Having always wanted children, they are happy when you appear on the doorstep and introduce yourself as their daughter. Though they don't say it out loud to avoid upsetting you, they kind of wish your mum had kicked it sooner so they could have raised you from a younger age, but they're more than happy to make do with what they've got. There's no hesitation in welcoming you to live with them permanently, and anyone who has a problem with this isn't brave enough to say it.

Right from the get-go they are very permitting parents, awarding you a generous helping of their cash each week and having a rule list that pretty much starts and ends with "don't talk to the police." Despite your age they don't expect you to be independent, and are happy to cook for you and help you out with other things when you ask. It seems parenthood was made for them.

Despite all this, there is one problem in your relationship that is making things difficult. That of your fathers' work. You're 12 years old and you aren't stupid. You know they kill for a living and you know they enjoy it. When you stumble into the bathroom at 1am to find them covered in blood and laughing together, there's no making excuses. No matter how good they are with you, this is going to make you afraid of them.

Sorbet and Gelato are incredibly stringent in solving these early issues. After all these years they've finally got the family they wanted, and they aren't going to let it slip away from their own cruelty. They are honest with you about their occupation, since they want you to know you can trust them, and make absolutely clear it won't affect their care for you. You are welcome to ask questions and receive honest answers, but other than that Sorbet and Gelato will make a point of not accidentally causing you to witness something you shouldn't.

With them, you are welcome to continue your old life in terms of school and friends. They want to spend time with you, but they don't want to overtake your existence completely. When you are up for it, they are keen to take you on outings that interest you so you can spend time together as a family. They hope you know how happy you make them.

[luckyasfuck]

maybe i just wanna be yours [k. bakugou]

A CAMBOY AU SERIES - PARTS 1, 2, [3], 4, 5

pairing // katsuki x female reader

tw // cussing, smut

warnings for this part // (kinda?) mutual masturbation

theme // enemies to lovers au, camboy!katsu au, college student!katsu and reader au, no quirk au

keys // y/n, l/n, h/c

words // 1.8k

a/n // pt. 4 will be written at 100 likes and posted at 5-10 reblogs :). i’m glad ya’ll are enjoying it, send criticism and/or ideas in my inbox.

previous part I masterlist

y/n’s head was no longer cloudy.

it scared her at first,  her twitter username and bio must have gave it all away. part of her hoped that katsuki wouldn’t notice the notification, and if he did, well she hopes he’d be too dumb or oblivious to know it was her. but of course, bakugou fucking katsuki wasn’t like that. y/n would know, especially when she woke up him following her back.

fucking son of a bitch.

it was very obvious that it was katsuki. from his voice during lives to his demeanor with his posts: reserved. it was a bitch to think about, no matter what y/n did it was all that occupied her mind. she was aware of the comments she had left on his last live, her other hand too busy pumping her fingers in and out of her pussy to make more than two. that’s what bothered her. not only did she get off to her rival of all people, she did it twice. twice!

she thought about it the whole morning as she reached UA. a person came from behind and bumped her shoulder, rushing to the group of people crowding the main gate. y/n knotted her eyebrows, her mind was too all over the place to know what they could have been fussing about.

the crowd completely blocked the gate and she sighed, opting to take another route until someone grabbed her arm. thinking it was a teacher or a student, she turned around with a smile.

what the fuck.

katsuki stood there gripping her arm and her heart dropped. she yanks his hand away and glared at him, goddamn if looks could kill katsuki would’ve made it to heaven right about now. she stared at him with so much intensity, it almost looked like she was gonna go crazy over the fact that he stopped her, let alone even touch her.

fuck, that’s hot. katsuki gulped and mentally slapped himself after the thought. “don’t let the teachers see you-” he whispered, looking around. y/n sighed, “too late.” she looked behind him where their Biology professor stood with a smile.

“good morning, kids! i’m glad i found you two together, which is um... quite new, don’t you think?” the old woman greeted. katsuki rolled his eyes before facing her, standing beside y/n.

the h/c-haired girl didn’t like being near him at all, he had this weird aura and she didn’t know what his intentions were at all. and him approaching her for the first time without being forced by a professor after the shenanigans of last night? way too timed to be a coincidence, though she wishes it was. 

“if you don’t know yet, our school’s competing with others schools with this little competition our school made.” the old woman got straight to the point. “the competition is that weekly for this month, a duo would take a quiz on a specific subject together. the subject changes every week and the questions get harder and harder! the 5 duos with the lowest scores are eliminated. it’s said on the board right there!” she pointed to where the students crowded.

“um, okay...? why are you telling us this then?” y/n questioned, adjusting her grip on her bag as the professor smiled again whilst katsuki breathed out a loud sigh. 

“i want you both to be the duo that represents our school!”

“miss-” katsuki started, but got cut off. “don’t you think we’re the worst duo for this? i mean,” y/n laughed sarcastically. “you know we hate each other, everyone fucking knows tha-”

“language, miss l/n.” the professor’s sternly scolded and y/n flinches a bit at the change of mood. “yes, ma’am.” the younger girl looked down on her shoes. “i think it’s a good opportunity for the two of you,” the old woman pointed to the two students. “to get along. you two are really gifted, and i don’t want our school to lose this or get humiliated just because you two have beef with each other for reasons unknown.”

y/n was sweating under her jacket and she gulped as the woman walked away, letting them know her decision was final. katsuki breathed out a deep sigh, face-palming. “what are we gonna do now? knowing that bitch, she’ll tell everyone we said yes.”

y/n didn’t bother to argue with the blonde, she knew he was right. the crowd near the gate starts to disappear and she leaves without responding to katsuki. she doesn’t know where the fuck he got the confidence to talk to her so casually. more like she wished she didn’t know.

she knew that he knew.

and he knew that she knew too. 

so simple yet so complicated.

class dragged out and y/n hasn’t spared a single glance at katsuki. she’s done this almost everyday since she met him, so it was easy to do. if only he’d stop staring into her soul, knowing she can see him in the corner of her eye. 

katsuki’s always liked to stare, though he had nothing to stare at. and now he does, even he doesn’t like how much he’s staring. he’d snap out of it, curse himself and y/n too while he’s at it, then get caught in a daze while staring at her again. 

multiple teachers approached them and individually asked them about the competition, their answers were the same the whole time, a bland “yeah, we’re competing as the duo.”

the students sat in their last class, blabbering around and not caring anymore. it was the last class, after all. they were tired and wanted to go home, but of course, they can’t. at least not yet. y/n didn’t feel like listening, she was tired too. doodling in her notebook, her heart drops when the professor calls her name. fuck, i don’t know the answe-

“oh. and mister bakugou too. i think it’s for the competition, the principal wants you two.” the old male lets out an intrigued hum. “don’t you guys hate each other?” y/n and katsuki walked out the room silently, filling the room with embarrassment on the professors side. 

the female walked on the other end of the corridor, she didn’t like katsuki at all. his mere presence makes her gag, and she knows it’s the same for him too. that’s why they opted to stay as far away from each other as possible.

the ash blonde walks into the principal’s office with y/n hot on his trail. “take a seat.” the principal said, not looking up from his paperwork. “listen, you two. i heard a lot from teachers about how you compete with each other, but the both of you are the smartest duo here. all i want is for you two to study together and pass the quizzes as best as you can. you don’t even have to get along! and your grades will be perfect A+’s for the whole month, and if you win, maybe i’ll extend to a month more.”

y/n and katsuki’s eyes widened at the offer, it was so tempting. and education always came first before pride anyway. “fine, i’ll do it.” y/n was the first to speak while katsuki just nodded his head.

“it’s settled then.”

[ timeskip ]

y/n plopped down on her bed. the two of them got sent home early and were forced to share socials with each other. they were also granted permission to use the library whenever they wanted, and were given the schedule to study together from their last two classes until whenever they liked. and before going their separate ways, she told katsuki to text her a plan if he had one.

her phone dings and she automatically assumed it was him. and it was. just... a little more lewd. definitely not what she was expecting.

y/n cussed, “since when the fuck did i let this stupid fucking site give me notifications?” katsuki’s heavy breathing and occasional grunts boomed through her speaker and she hurried to click off it, until her eyes landed on his cock.

from what seemed like it, he had already cum once, the white liquid dripping from his slit down his lenght. y/n can’t seem to tear her eyes from the way he stroked his cock, so gentle yet so rushed, so... satisfying.

she shakes her head and kicks herself out of her absurd train of thoughts, thumb hovering over the ‘X’ on the top left of the site. “have you joined the live, pretty face?” she flinches when she heard his raspy voice, thighs unconciously rubbing together and panties already soaked. 

“i hope you have, fuck. been thinking about you all day, mhmm~ why don’t you drop your little comments for me?” she could practically hear the smirk in his words, and it irritated her. but fuck, if he wasn’t so attractive. his perfectly sculpted body, his voice, and that pretty cock. it was that fucking cock.

“are you touching yourself, pretty face? you better. this live’s all for you.” katsuki moaned out, stroking himself faster. y/n watched as the chat went crazy, all of them confessing their sins to him like he was some sort of God.

and maybe he was, cause she found herself running a finger through her wet folds as she watched the camboy play with his tip. she shoves a finger inside, moaning with him before moving in and out parallel to his strokes. 

katsuki comes again, his strokes coming to a half. he pants before smirking, “pretty face, lookie here.” he shows a fleshlight to the camera, his tip prodding at the toys entrance. y/n slowly adds another finger as he sunk the toy down onto his cock, both of them moaning.

they both fuck themselves into oblivion while thinking of each other, katsuki’s hips violently fucking into the toy as he hissed, “fuck, i bet your pussy feels a lot better.” y/n felt her cunt clench around her finger at the statement as she started to rub her clit as well. 

she orgasms a little bit before katsuki shot his load into the toy, both their movements halting as they tried to catch their breath. she types in a comment before finally exiting the site, feeling slightly disgusted of what she just did. she shudders and opts on taking a shower before napping.

“you dirty little thing.”

katsuki felt his cock twitch at y/n’s comment. he ended the live right after, knowing she probably left already. the notifications for money he hoarded sat heavy on his account and he smiled, cleaning himself up after. the image of her with her legs open, her fingers buried deep in her cunt and her moaning uncontrollably was all that filled katsuki’s brain.

and he fucking hates it. he hates how much power the desires of his cock had over him when he was horny.

and the only desire his cock had was her.

next part I masterlist

taglist:

@princesspeach-00 @tamakisropebunny @bakugous-mamas @ll379333 @j1-914 @gazelle-des-pres @trashpandainahat @dickinson-67 @victoriaestein @amelie-chan @your-worst-obsession [ cannot tag last two ]

[creativeashproductions]

Charlie’s New Friend // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Charlie’s fallen for the casting director and Kenny’s right hand for Julie and the Phantoms. After a day doesn’t go the way it should the cast meets a little newcomer changing the dynamics with Charlie.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, single!parent!reader,  pure fluff

Words: 5.3k

A/N: Hi! In this fic there’s a stuffed animal and it’s important to speak about in this note. I found the stuffed animal on a website for Canadian Wildlife Federation that uses the money from each purchase to support the research and programs for species at risk. The Snowy Owl stuffed animal features in this fic has the proceeds go to protect the Canadian Arctic!

Website to the Canadian Wildlife Federation Adopt an Animal

Masterlist

Everyone has bad days when it happens, you often blared ‘Bad Day’ by Daniel Powter, in their lives. No stranger to those days it seemed today was the recent worse one when your coffee machine broke, your tea cabinet was barren, and Faye decided to dirty your shirt. Then the daycare called informing you of necessary renovations to bring it back to Code. That left you to do the one thing you really didn’t want to do.

You had to bring your daughter to work on the set of Julie and the Phantoms as Faye’s father was filming in England. You had no doubts he would have dropped everything to care for her if he was in the same town let alone state. The positive was that Kenny was aware of your situation and had pleaded for Faye to visit set.

“I need to go to the store after work.” You mumbled over the irritating children’s music that Faye adored. That or the flashing lights on the television during the half-hour each night you got supper ready.

Parking in your assigned spot you made quick work of release the baby carrier from the secure bucket. Faye slept through the entire transition to the stroller with the component that locked the car seat on it.

“Let’s rock ‘n roll Tink.” You told the sleeping infant with the baby bag slung over your shoulder and the pretty light purple blanket covering Faye’s tiny body.

Now while Kenny knew about your daughter, the rest of the cast was definitely unaware given you often passed on dinner. The few times you had joined was when Faye’s father was in town to see your shared daughter.

“Who’s this cutie?” Tori asked, stepping in unison with to view the adorable little baby with brunette curls hidden by her little toque.

“This is my daughter Faye.” You whispered as a suckling sound came from Faye’s open mouth as little snores came out, “Daycare is closed for renovations, and I don’t have a backup plan.”

Tori’s eyebrows raised as you dropped a somewhat surprising fact about part of your life you kept quiet. In no way, shape or form did you feel ashamed by Faye’s existence. Faye’s father was hands-on and very supportive, even if Faye had been a surprise.

“I never knew you had a child.” Tori blinked melting as the infant cooed in the stroller hidden from the sun via the visor.

Tori’s scrutiny of the little baby allowed her to catch the similarities such as the nose and mouth, but the rest was the father. There was something in Faye’s features that tickled her mind as if she had seen them before.

“It’s not something I like to flaunt. I prefer keeping my work life separate from my personal life.” You informed the seasoned dancer and choreographer.

A few more words of conversation commenced until Tori was called over to Paul with a clipboard in hand. The incessant feeling of eyes peering at you on the walk to the modest trailer you shared with Tori. It was easier for crew members to share trailers with the little time you typically spent in them.

With practised ease, your hands unstrapped Faye from her stroller into your arms where she cuddled into your neck. For the most part, Faye was an easy-going baby with an affinity for cuddling, but of course, that didn’t make her perfectly well behaved.

“Best be getting over to the office.” You cooed at the suckling sound Faye made with her fist pressed against her open mouth.

Kenny had personally hired you after working on Descendants as a casting director with healthy mutual respect. Often if at the time you were free, you found yourself working with the legendary man. He was lenient with the new addition of Faye as well, going as far as to see he was a great-uncle.

“Would this be Miss Faye?” Kenny asked from his seat at the head of the table with a handful of filled cars.

Jeremy, Owen, Madi, and Savannah sat with the newest script for the next episode leaving you to avoid looking at Charlie. Now it the typical Wattpad storyline you had fallen for the Canadian actor who reciprocated the feelings. A few hangouts and flirting, but he had no clue about the most significant piece of your life.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t have a sitter, and the daycare had unforeseen extensive renovations.” You spoke softly bouncing as Faye’s little body tensed up with a whimper.

“I’ve been begging you to bring her on set. It’s about time.” Kenny retorted walking swiftly to coo over the little girl. His action bringing the cast members closer, Charlie’s solemn stare never leaving as he came closer.

“She’s so cute! How old is she?” Savannah questioned as the brown-eyed little girl blinked at the multiple faces.

“Eight months now. My little surprise.”

“Definitely a surprise for sure,” Charlie mumbled just on the cusp of everyone being able to hear, but Faye had all the attention.

Within seconds Faye had found herself in the arms of Owen with funny faces to get the little baby to laugh. Savannah, with your permission, had started snapping pictures of Faye’s interactions with everyone. Kenny had retreated to his computer while Charlie pulled you just outside the door.

“You have a kid?” Charlie hissed keeping distance between the two of you as the situation settled, “We’ve been on a handful of dates, and you kept your baby a secret?”

Your heart sank, “Do you know the chances of a guy dating someone with a kid? Joshua Jackson’s character in Mighty Ducks talking with his coach? Guys left his mom in the dust when they caught a glance of him.”

“You know me.” Charlie stressed glancing over his shoulder at the distracted group of young adults. Faye’s giggle drawing awes from every single individual in the room, even Charlie’s lips quirked at the sound.

“Charlie, that little girl is my blood. Every single decision I make has her in mind. I wasn’t keeping her from you maliciously.” You informed him trying to meet his gaze, “Her name is Faye Eloise. She adores music and this tiny fox her uncles got her.”

Charlie’s shoulder lowered slightly, “She is pretty cute.”

“Her laugh is my favourite sound in the entire world. She’s a replica of her father more than me.” Your lips lifted gazing over Charlie’s shoulder to Kenny, engaging in a one-sided conversation with Faye.

Charlie’s green gaze examine our expression pinned on the tiny little human you had bonded for months with. The pure adoration coating your features softened the ball of anger in Charlie’s belly, that didn’t mean he wasn’t hurt. But seeing the fundamental protective instincts you displayed, your body coiled to dash to Faye. Your gaze that periodically ensured Faye was safe.

Charlie saw the maternal love that poured out of you that he often caught in his own mother’s eyes. That very thought led to an in-depth conversation with his mom later when he was in the safety of his bedroom.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Jeanette spoke with her phone on speaker. The silence drawing her concern, “Charlie? Are you okay?”

“I’m not sure. That girl I’ve been seeing?”

“Y/N, she’s on the crew with Kenny. She’s all you’ve been talking about lately, and you’ve already told me she may be The One.” The words caused Charlie to involuntarily smile at the call after the second date with you. Charlie didn’t feel half-hearted, he felt with his entire soul.

“I still think she is, but she’s a package deal,” Charlie admitted scrubbing one hand through his hair sending the bandana keeping his hair out his face to his lap.

Jeanette took a moment in cleaning her kitchen to sit at the island to click the phone off the speaker. The phone resting against her ear, she gave her full attention to her youngest son.

“Charles. I don’t want to ask you this, but is she pregnant?” Jeanette questioned, holding her breath in complete anticipation. She’d like a few grandkids but preferably when the time was right for her children.

“No. Mom! I didn’t get her pregnant.” Charlie groaned at the hesitant toe tipping into a conversation he’d rather not relive from his teens, “She has a daughter.”

“And? Is that a deal-breaker for you? You talk like she’s the love of your life Charlie, you’ve never spoken about any of your previous girlfriends like that. You’re not even officially dating her either.” Jeanette replied, watching Meghan settle in for an episode of her current favourite show; the only Gillespie child visiting at the moment, “Are you willing to walk away because she had a child?”

“Faye is absolut-“

“-sounds like you answered the question with the adoration in your voice. You don’t have to run to the nearest chapel to get married. If you love both of them, give it a shot.” Jeanette advised her son smiling when Charlie’s breathing evened out more.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Jeanette knew in her very marrow that in time she would meet little Faye, call it mother’s intuition but she was sure of it.

It was the week of hell with the daycare still shut down, your back up babysitter on vacation and Faye upset. Charlie barely spoke to you as he tried to find his footing in the new dynamic and the space he had rightfully asked for. It was hell seeing him at work and only speaking for work requirements.

“Sh.” You hushed bouncing with Faye curled in your arms as her mouth twisted, “As a casting director and Kenny’s complete faith in me. I made a suggestion to Soyon.”

A line appeared between your eyebrows as Faye’s snuffled against your soft hoodie while trying to focus on the cast. The boys, Madi and Booboo sat in the room for a short meeting during the time the next scene was being set up.

“Kenny and I talked about your personal connection to your characters. There’s the smallest disjoint some of you have. Kenny’s always preached about everyone having a voice and to make suggestions.” You could cry as the ache in your arms increased from holding Faye, she’d cry every time you tried to put her down.

Mom life when you can’t put your baby down to pee alone in peace. Faye getting her shots and recovering from a stomach bug didn’t help.

“Are you okay?” Madi asked, catching the expression that came and went in seconds. The cast watching as you continued to walk around the room with Faye.

“I’ll be fine.” You shrugged the concern off closing your eyes to ground herself once more juggling the concern for Faye with your job, “Soyon and I want you to put a personal detail in your character’s style. If you think of anythi-“

Faye’s sharp cry echoed in the room, “Shh. I’m so sorry guys. I’d put her down, but she won’t settle-“

The cuts ended when Faye was gently tugged from you into a warm chest and soft coos in the little baby’s ears. Your sore arms dropping as Faye’s weight was coaxed into Charlie’s body and your jaw dropped. Charlie’s rhythmic pace and soft coos turning into a lullaby easing the baby.

“Wha-“

“-can’t have the little boss upset.” Charlie shot a coy smile resurrecting the confidence in the relationship. The smile grew when Charlie’s tiny nod at your unspoken question eased you.

“Is there anything you’d like added to your character? Outfit suggestions?” You inquired catching the hesitant gaze of the young actress.

The Puerto Rican teenager had quickly become a game-changer for the production as a first time with such an incredible talent. The second you saw Madi’s audition tape it had sealed the most critical role; Kenny adored the audition tape you had forwarded so fast.

“Could we do something for my mom?” Madi asked, biting her lip as your eyes encouraged her to delve deeper into the request, “My mom is in the army, and I’d like to pay homage to her?”

Your hand landed on her own in a squeeze, “We can absolutely do that. Head over to Soyon when you have a moment. What about you, guys?”

The three boys had gone quiet as Faye settled into a sleep you had been begging for since she missed her morning nap. Charlie had gone from softly singing to humming in the infant’s ear while Jeremy and Owen watched.

“Do you think Luke could carry the Rabbit’s Foot?” Charlie whispered, resting his head against the infant in his arms.

“I’m sure Soyon would have no trouble with that. Jeremy, Owen if you figure something out just let Soyon know. All suggestions are welcomed.” You informed the duo before starting to reach for Faye.

 Charlie stepped back while the 2/3rds of Sunset Curve left with Faye still held securely bouncing a small degree. The scene warmed your heart as Faye slept for the first time in what felt like years.

“I can take her if you want.” You told the actor with arms already reaching out to him but contradicting your expectations he’d back off.

Charlie’s green eyes focused solely on the tiny mouth opened just slightly with the soft breaths wafting from her small frame. At that moment cradling the small life the wall separating him shattered; the love flooded his veins, and he knew. He would fight anyone that hurt the little angel with no consequences in mind.

 “I’d like to hold her longer. I need the practice for when you need a nap.” Charlie replied, shifting his gaze onto your form. Charlie’s heart clenched at the unsure glint in the eye of Faye’s mother.

“Oh.” You simply spoke stepping closer to the man that had easily stolen your heart, holding your entire world in his gentle hands.

“I know it won’t be easy, but I would really like to give us a real chance. No secrets anymore. The minute I saw her, my heart melted, but I got scared, and I’ll always carry that regret in my life. I want to be here for you and for Faye.”

Charlie fell into the father figure as easy as breathing creating a bond that almost made you jealous with the ease. He adored playing music during Faye’s bath time, and in the special bath time with bubbles, he would create a beard; it sent Faye into giggles every time. He absolutely loved when you brought Faye to set.

Leaving Faye in Charlie’s capable hands, you had taken your break from work to freshen up in the washroom. Grabbing a quick bite, you rushed back to Charlie having gone over your time by a complete accident.

“I am so sorry! I got distracted by-“ You were almost surprised the sudden stop in motion would cause a burnout. Working through lines was Jeremy, Owen and Charlie; Charlie new accessory being a baby sling with Faye strapped against his chest.

“Hey, Babe! We have no filming the afternoon of Friday, it’s blocked for Madi. Jer and Carolynn offered to babysit. We could do a date night.” Charlie fully turned to face you lightly bouncing to keep Faye settled.

The sight of Charlie with Faye securely in the baby sling, one that you didn’t own and was the best one on the market, was incredibly sweet. It was at that moment that you just knew that Charlie was The One and you are deeply in love with him.

“They don’t have to. I was planning on telling you tonight that Faye’s father is in town, he has Faye for Friday to Sunday. You informed Charlie as he walked closer to tug you into his embrace with Faye.

Now while you had been dating Charlie for two months at this point, the topic of who Faye’s father hadn’t come up. It was a topic that found its way for discussion, but his name never came up; it didn’t matter.

“Oh. we should give them a moment.” Owen whispered to his fellow actor and friend. With a withering glance, they froze in their places.

“Why? Faye’s father is an amazing guy. He has a specific time for calling Faye, we have a group chat for Faye. We send pictures and updates to him.” Charlie informed them, “There are no hard feelings. We all trust each other even if I’ve never met him.”

When Friday came along, it sent Charlie into a near-constant state of panic with the thought of meeting Faye’s father. He couldn’t sit still, well it’s Charlie he can’t sit still, but this was nervous energy. He’d contribute little to the conversations with eyes periodically checking the time.

Charlie was alone without you or Faye on set, you had let Kenny know the significance of the date. Charlie had left your apartment with a kiss from both you and Faye in order for the apartment to be cleaned up.

“What’s up with him?” Madi inquired as her tray made contact with the table shared by her ghostly trio. Jer sent a look to Owen before answering.

“It’s the weekend that Faye’s father will be in town. Charlie’s freaking out about meeting him.” Jeremy supplied typing a reply to Carolynn from just before lunch.

“Oh, is he worried about Y/N getting back together with him?” Madi asked jabbing the straw into her drink. Her brown gaze watching Charlie’s leg bounce like a jackhammer.

“No. Not about that. His scenes are done so he’s waiting for Y/N to pick him up.” Owen stated, leaning back as the man in question took off running in his street clothes to the parking lot, “Did he leave burn marks with that sprint?”

In the typical routine that never stopped the flutters in his stomach, you leaned over to hum into a kiss. Breaking apart Charlie caressed your finger gently before straightening into the passenger seat. Out of habit, he checks over his shoulder where Faye was strapped in her car seat.

“Oh, one moment,” Charlie exclaimed jumping out of the vehicle to open the back door. He quickly in to kiss Faye on her forehead, “I missed you Bug.”

Faye’s giggled in response as Charlie closed the backdoor to return to the passenger seat with a beaming grin. Charlie loved his girls with all his heart even in the short amount of time he had been in their lives.

“We’re meeting at his place.” You told the Canadian actor focusing on the drive, “He’s been renting a place since Faye was born. It’s easier for everyone to not stay in a hotel or an apartment.”

Charlie hummed in response, watching as you left the general vicinity of the set for one of the gated communities. It wasn’t the incredibly high-end community, but it was on the pricier side, but it was safe. His eyebrows raised at the houses the vehicle passed as he sang for the baby in the back.

“This is where he’s renting?” Charlie scoffed scanning the vast neighbourhood of houses, “Whoa.”

The chuckle fell from your lips as you pulled into the driveway of the address you had received via text messages. You had barely stepped out of the vehicle when Charlie already had Faye’s car seat in his arms. Cradled in the crook of his arm he held out his free hand to intertwine with yours.

“Any advice before we go in there?” Charlie questioned glancing at Faye gurgling with her stuffed Snowy Owl.

So passionate for nature, he had found an organization that sells the stuffed animals of animals in jeopardy. The money from sales of the stuffed animals when to saving the animal bought, so when he got Faye the Snowy Owl, it put money towards saving the animal. Faye adored her stuffed owl just as much as the person that bought it.

“Just be yourself. Tom and you are similar in terms of people down to earth and close with your family.” You informed him of pushing the button for the doorbell while Charlie stared at you.

“His name is Tom?” Charlie asked thinking back to the messages he had added as Faye’s father, he felt stupid he didn’t know the name of the guy who was a big part of your life.

“Did we never introduce you in the group chat?” You questioned as the door opened to the 5’8 brunette and glittering brown eyes.

Charlie’s eyes widened at the first physical appearance of your ex and Faye’s father standing in front of him. Tom was the same height as Charlie with brown eyes and a pale complexion but a childlike aura. Tom’s eyes met Charlie’s before they beamed down to the happy baby.

“’ello. Come on in.” Tom ushered you and Charlie into the home straight to the living room, “I’m Tom, can I get you anything to drink?”

“Charlie.” The Canadian actor spoke, shaking his hand with an equally welcoming smile as you gently took Faye out of her car seat.

“Hi, little Holly.” Tom cooed as his now eleventh-month-old child lunged into his arms with loud giggles, “That’s a cute owl you have there.”

“Y/N!” The overjoyed announcement came from Tom’s young brother Harry holding the camera that you’d never seen more than a few metres from him.

Faye’s uncle quickly squeezed you in a tight hug before pulling away to scan your form as if something drastic had changed. Charlie awkwardly watched as he settled into a little family, he wasn’t familiar with.

“Charlie, this is Tom’s younger brother Harry. Harry this is my boyfriend Charlie who I met on the set of his show.” You gestured for Charlie to come closer and just like that the three guys acted like they’d been friends for years.

You and Charlie didn’t linger at Tom’s house more than an hour to give Tom’s the entire weekend with his daughter. Of course, you would worry about her the whole time, but you also knew Tom didn’t need any help. You completely trusted him, but you can’t help it when the child is yours.

“Where’d you get Faye the owl?” Tom asked, leading Charlie to beam in excitement.

“Oh! Well, I use my platform to bring awareness and support to the environment internationally. The Canadian Wildlife Federation has a website that sells adoption kits for animals. Every purchase of the animal in their Adopt-an-Animal program funds the research and critical conservation programs for at-risk species.” Charlie used his hands as he rambled on, “By adopting this stuffed Snowy Owl it further funding for conservation efforts to protect Canada’s Arctic environments.”

Tom’s lips pulled into a grin, “My brothers and I have a charity we use to host events to raise money for the smaller charities. Maybe in the future, we sit down for a deeper conversation? You can send me a few links that I can share as well.”

“We have dinner plans. Keep me posted?” You interrupted, leaning into Charlie’s warm side with a kind smile to Tom.

Goodbyes shared you left the house with Charlie to the vehicle he adamantly asked to drive with that charming smile. The radio on low you watched the scenery go by.

“Tom’s an amazing guy. Family-oriented, kind, supportive, charitable and a really nice guy. Why did you guys break up?” Charlie asked, glancing at you from the corner of his green eyes. Your eyes, however, kept focused on the blurry landscape.

It wasn’t a way to avoid the question, “We became acquainted on Instagram back before he landed the role of Spider-Man. Over time it developed into a relationship that wasn’t serious or long term. We actually broke up a week after we conceived Faye.”

The two individuals stared stock still at the screen of black, white and shades of grey on the monitor. The tiny little bean moving around with the consistent thudding in the background. Your lips parted as the doctor’s words of a positive pregnancy, repeating like a broken record. Tom’s handheld tight as he digested the news.

His ex-girlfriend of three months, you to be precise, had been the safe place for a fetus to grow. Estimated gestation of eleven weeks it felt the two young adults spiralling with the large what-ifs making their presence known.

“Pregnant. That’s a baby.” The words came out shaky on the British man’s lips, “I put that baby in you. You are carrying my child, but it’s your choice if you want to keep the baby. It’s your body going through the changes.”

“I’d like to keep baby H.” You softly responded, sharing a smile of disbelief as it settled that a life-changing event would come to fruition in six months.

“We tried to make it work, but it became obvious that the spark had been gone for too long. I’ll always care for him and love him, but I’m not in love with him.” You told Charlie as he pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant chosen for the date.

“He’s a really good guy.”

“He’s an amazing father. I lucked out in the romance department, to be honest even if it didn’t work out with Tom.”

The topic was shelved for lighter conversation based on the things you missed on set today. Owen almost broke his nose in some stupid stunt that Charlie was involved in while you recounted the new music Faye had taken to.

Julie and the Phantoms renewed for a second season with a few new characters being introduced such as paramedic Lucy. Lucy would be a recurring character on the show with a connection to the boys. Julie would detest the woman that she believed was trying to replace her mother, and that would cause tension with her father. It would bring in a storyline for Ray manoeuvring his way through the guilt of finding someone attractive other than his wife. Beyond Ray, the boys would know Lucy as she was a rookie paramedic called to their accident site in the ‘90s.

With the new character and some more recurring ones, Kenny had wholly placed his trust in your again. Working from home due to the pandemic you compiled an extensive list of potential actors.

“Supper is ready.” Charlie breathed leaning down to kiss your cheek in the home office you shared together.

In his arms was Faye who had recently turned two years old with bouncy brown volumized curls with your eye colour. Faye loved being outside in the backyard or short hikes with Charlie vigilantly keeping an eye on her walking. Often you let the hiking be their thing together while you had the alone time or worked.

“Smells good.” You breathed kissing over to kiss the little girl, “Hello Tink. Are you excited to see Nana and Papa?”

“Mhm!” Faye spoke with her eyes twinkling at seeing her English grandparents with their silly accents. With her grandparents came their rambunctious uncles Harry, Sam and Paddy and her favourite family member Tessa.

“Daddy can’t wait to bring you to where he grew up.” Your fingers gently pushed the rebellious curl off her pudgy cheek.

“Then Dad and Mom can go on their honeymoon.” Charlie joked with a peck on the cheek of his little girl.

The glint of the ring on Charlie’s finger screamed at you with the recent memory of the intimate wedding. It had taken place a few months ago with your family and friends in attendance with Tom as well. He had even stood up with Charlie and even had a charming speech.

Gillespie Wedding

The Brit shuffled on the stage just before the guests all wearing masks and spaced following guidelines for the pandemic. His own black mask hung off one ear as he stepped up to the microphone.

“Hello, my name is Tom.” He introduced himself setting his eyes on the wedding party table with a grin, “Some may find it off for an ex-partner to be a guest at the wedding let alone being a part of the wedding party. Some of you know that I share an absolutely gorgeous and rambunctious little toddler with the bride.”

Faye waved enthusiastically from her seat beside her mother earning a chuckle from the attendants.

“I was blessed with meeting Y/N and having a daughter with her. We’re not like a lot of ex-couples because we remained close friends. She was open from the moment she knew there was something with a certain Canadian actor. The three of us created a group chat to share updates for Faye like when she popped her first molar tooth. The was a period I never want to relive” Tom laughed shaking his head with his deep brown eyes scanning the crowd, “Charlie had no clue that I was Faye’s father and his expression was priceless.”

“I never mentioned his name to Charlie! I never even realized until we dropped Faye off. Charlie knew Tom is an actor but not one of the Tom’s in Marvel.” You shouted over the laughter from the guests.

“We bonded, and we’ve never had any issues with our places in the lives of these darling young women. Faye has a loving mother and two fathers that will help her navigate life and protect her. I want to tell Charlie this: when Faye graduates from high school and maybe university if she decides to continue formal education and her wedding. You’ll be walking her down the aisle with me. I consider you one of my best friends, and there is no one else in this world I would trust with my little girl. I wish the bride and groom lifelong happiness in the new chapter. To Charlie and Y/N Gillespie!”

Now months later you had moved into a four-bedroom apartment in Los Angeles with Charlie and Faye. For the time being the third bedroom was rented out to Owen when he was in town to lower your rental fees and give him a stable residence. For a four-bedroom apartment, it was on the smaller size, but it was close to areas for Charlie to hike.

“How are you feeling?” Charlie murmured helping you off the couch revealing the bump you had been sporting for a while.

Baby Gillespie was healthy and robust and very much a surprise to the young couple. Charlie was sure the baby would be a boy while you full-heartedly believed Faye would have a little sister.

“Can’t wait for this little bun to be in our arms.” One hand coming to rest on top of his hand over the warm crewneck sweater.

The sweater came from a package of gifts Madison��s family had sent to celebrate the news of the baby on the way. The sweater was a light grey colour with the outline of phantom blobs with their guitars. The only addition was a baby phantom blob with over-ear headphones with a pacifier in the mouth. Absolutely adorable and a gift to be cherished.

“I still think if baby G is a girl, we name her Lucy.” Charlie teased leaning forward with the belly, keeping him at a distance.

“We are-“ The words unheard as Faye made her appearance known on the baby monitor keeping an eye on the toddler. Charlie was turning the corner from the living room to grab the little girl.

“Hey, sweet Angel.” Charlie’s soft words came through the speaker with the same care he’d shown her the entirety he’d known her.

You really did luck out with a beautiful daughter adored by both her fathers she had wrapped around her pinky. The paternity of Faye didn’t matter to Tom or Charlie, both mutually respecting each other with no ill will. The two male actors had grown a lovely friendship on mutual interests and passion for the environment and charity.

The fond smile grew as your eyes found the picture from Faye’s first birthday; her hands high in the ear coated in the smashed cake. Pudgy cheeks a rosy pink with Charlie and Tom on each side kissing her cheeks. Tom’s brother Harry had caught the candid picture with Faye’s infectious smile and surrounded by the love of her family.

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[emeraldiis]

Mirrorball // I

A/N: there will be a part two!! dont worry!!

AO3 Link

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Reader hides her insecurity under a guise of unwavering happiness, but Loki ends up finding out the truth. Meanwhile, Loki struggles with feeling worthy of love.

Warnings: suicidal ideation, insecurity, misunderstandings, angst

Loki wasn’t sure why you lived with the Avengers. Sure, you were one hell of a good cook, and you bartended at Tony’s numerous parties, but surely you could do that while having a place of your own. Normally, Loki wouldn’t have given a second thought to where somebody chose to reside--even if he couldn’t understand people’s willingness to be anywhere near Stark--but you were driving him insane.

When Loki had first arrived at the tower, it had been a cruel and unusual punishment. House arrest at the very place that he suffered a humiliating defeat, with the very heroes that had defeated him. Of course, not many people were very welcoming. He was permitted to roam about the tower as long as he stayed on good behavior, but that didn’t mean all residents were alright with it. 

Stark was the easiest to deal with; his jokes and quips about Loki’s unfortunate ventures to rule, well, anything stung, but the malice behind them faded with every passing day. After all, it had been a long time since New York. Banner and Wanda were another story. They treated him politely enough, but the fear behind their eyes whenever he passed by made something rotten stir in his gut. No matter how much he attempted to redeem himself, people still saw him as evil. A villain.

It seemed as if Steve and Thor were the only ones glad to have him there. The Captain’s open arms had come as a surprise, but Loki was intuitive, and very quickly realized that Steve saw him in the same light as he did the Winter Soldier, Bucky. And in a way, Loki could see the similarities. They had both done awful things--albeit under far different circumstances--and were now working on gaining the trust of the ones kind enough to give them a second chance.

So Loki found himself seeking out Bucky’s company far more often than any of his other acquaintances. It was a strange sort of companionship, but it worked; Bucky usually opted to listen instead of speak, giving Loki the opportunity to ramble on about whatever grievances he held that week. There were usually a lot, and Bucky was the only one who didn’t offer him useless advice. He simply nodded along, fixing Loki with that thousand yard stare until he had finished.

And then, of course, there was you. All smiles and playful energy, with a raunchy sense of humor and a sharp tongue. You were much smaller than him, in terms of height and stature, but he often felt dwarfed when you were in the room. You just took up so much space with that reckless attitude and need for everyone in the room to be laughing. In an odd sort of way, you reminded him of a clown. Not because you were goofy, or funny looking, no. You just...made people smile, held their attention and made it your dying goal to be there for entertainment. 

The first time Loki had seen you, he was quick to notice your easy beauty. It was rare that he found a Midgardian woman to be attractive, but he couldn’t deny that something about you just appealed to him. You weren’t a supermodel, nor were you drop-dead gorgeous in terms of Midgardian standards, but you had a very real-life grace. You didn’t look like those dolled up actresses he often saw on the television, you looked more natural, something that instantly caught Loki’s eye.

He had been reading quietly in the common room of the Stark Tower, having been forced out of his room by Thor to “at least be present, brother.” The other Avengers droned on about petty events while he attempted to tune them out. And then you stormed in, bringing a sense of excitement to the room with your very aura.

You greeted each person individually, making sure no hero was left out, until your eyes settled on him. Loki felt a heat rise in his cheeks under your intense gaze, and shifted uncomfortably. He brushed off the feeling as it simply had been a while since he had spoken to an attractive woman, not wanting to admit to himself the effect your presence had on him.

“New guy, Loki, psycho murderer,” you rattled off, still staring him down. Loki felt as if you were a cat, and he was the poor mouse that you had selected as your new plaything. “Which do you prefer?”

That caught him off guard. While he was still somewhat unfamiliar with Midgard’s social customs, he was at least sure that this was not a normal way to greet a stranger. That, and the disrespect warred with what he was used to: women on Asgard bowing to him, treating him with the dignity that a prince deserved. Despite the surprise, Loki’s aloof outer demeanor was not shaken, and he let the strangeness of it all roll off his back as he replied, “How about ‘God of Mischief?’ Or, if that is a bit too wordy, I would be open to ‘King Loki.’”

 Your eyes lit up, and Loki found himself having to fight back a smile. His unconscious reaction left him feeling confused and slightly frustrated. Why was this mortal girl sending his emotions in a whirl? Loki scrambled for some sort of reasoning that didn’t have him looking pathetic, and settled on the idea that it had been a while since he had bed a woman, and you were particularly attractive. It only made sense that his body would react in ways that he had not expected.

Lost in his head, Loki barely noticed you were speaking again. “I like this one!” You said, clearly excited that he had matched your banter with ease. “New best friend acquired.”

Once again, you had left Loki reeling. Best friend? He wasn’t sure if he had ever had one of those before, and certainly not with someone he had just met. In fact, he wasn’t entirely positive that he even wanted one. Especially in the form of some over-enthusiastic mortal. Before he could protest, you plopped yourself down next to him on the couch. It wasn’t a very big piece of furniture, so when you settled into your seat, you were only a couple inches away from touching Loki. 

He could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and once again, his heart fluttered. The urge to lean into you overwhelmed him, and Loki furrowed his eyebrows. God, had it really been that long since he had been with someone? The frustration at his stupid body for its stupid needs grew, and Loki made up his mind then and there. He would court you, then fuck you, and get over this silly little infatuation. With your earlier outburst at wanting to befriend him, Loki figured that it would be a breeze. With his silvertongue and charming good looks, he would have you squirming under him in no time. Easy.

But, of course, nothing was ever easy for Loki. You had managed to prove him quite wrong over the next few weeks. Your obliviousness to flirting was quite impressive, Loki found, despite even his most direct attempts. Every advance he made was thwarted by complete, and utter ignorance, coupled with the fact that you had probably not taken a single thing seriously in your entire life. 

Loki would compliment you, and you’d grin wolfishly and twist it to make his words sound insulting, then cackling madly. And then was the time he “joked,” about getting you into his bed, to which you burst into a fit of giggles and said, “No way! I don’t want to be the other woman to Bucky!”

Loki had recoiled in bewilderment, and decided that enough was enough. Obviously you weren’t worth the effort, considering you never actually listened to anything he said. He’d just have to find someone who was capable of holding a conversation without turning something into a joke.

But...he couldn’t deny that he was constantly having to fight back a laugh at your remarks, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that you were annoying, not funny. And even when he had abandoned his plot to seduce you, Loki found himself gravitating towards you. Truth be told, he knew how to be direct, to really get what he wanted, but every time he worked up the courage to just lean in and kiss you...something stopped him. Deep down, he knew that if you actually rejected him, then the game would be over, and something about that just seemed devastating to Loki. So he continued with cat and mouse, letting you deflect his advances time after time, because at least you weren’t actually saying no.

He’d wander in the kitchen while you were cooking, sit down to watch your favorite shows and movies, and had even taken to sitting on the roof with you late at night when neither of you could sleep. Loki couldn’t avoid it anymore. It wasn't a simple attraction that he felt, it was adoration. You, a mortal of all creatures, had captured his interest. Maybe it was your wit. Maybe it was your unshakable happiness, the ability to keep everyone’s spirits up in any situation. Maybe it was the crushing need to protect you, to protect that pure soul from the viciousness of the universe. Whatever it was, you had actually ended up as Loki’s best friend. And somewhere along the line, he had fallen in love.

You sat in the living room alone, knees curled up to your chest on the couch. The four walls of your room had felt confining, like a prison cell that kept getting smaller. Your usual place of refuge would be the roof. But you didn’t dare venture up there like this. With your luck, Loki would find you there, and you weren’t sure if you had the strength to keep up your carefree persona.

Loki had never seen you upset before, never seen you weak. No one had, if you were honest. You fought hard to keep a smile plastered on your cheeks to keep up the appearance of a girl who never faltered with her high spirits. In a way, it wasn’t entirely fake. Joking around and being joyous was your real personality, but it was also a defense mechanism. If you never took anything seriously, nothing would ever hurt. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. The anxiety that wrecked your brain stayed constant, though, making your life a constant war with your own mind.

Your friendship with Loki was a fragile one, or at least it felt that way. You often felt as if you were walking on eggshells; every word that came out of your mouth risked driving him away. He had seemed to enjoy your wild and snarky personality when you first met him, so you didn’t dare try to be anything else. You were afraid that he would lose all interest when he discovered that you were just as fragile as all mortals were.

It was risky having your breakdown out in one of the main rooms, but the risk was better than dealing with the claustrophobia of your lonely bedroom. Besides, it wasn’t like you were going to sleep anyway. Better to just wait for daylight where you could at least feel some modicum of safety.

In your misery, you had forgotten that Loki was not an easy being to hide from. You were pretty sure that it was damn near impossible, actually. He seemed to...sense...your emotions, when you were in distress. And though you never showed it, kept that unwavering smile plastered across your face, he always appeared when you needed a friend to sit with. Tonight was no different.

Like a shadow, Loki emerged from the hallway in front of you, piercing eyes quickly landing on your curled up form in the darkness. He raised an eyebrow at you when you refused to even acknowledge him. “Dear, would you like to go up to the roof? Away from prying ears?” He offered.

You shook your head, and shrunk further into yourself when he crossed the room to sit next to you. Loki looked a little uneasy, as it was rare that you were silent. Usually, he had to fight to get a word in when you were on a tangent. Not that he minded too much. Though he liked to talk, he held a certain fondness for listening to you.

Loki tried again to engage you. “Why not? I know it’s a bit chilly tonight, but you’ve never minded that before."

It was clear that the god wasn’t going away until you gave him some kind of response, so you gritted your teeth and lied. “Sorry, bud. I just feel sick, that’s all.” You forced a laugh, but it sounded strained. “I’d rather stay close to the bathroom. I’m not sure Tony would be too excited if I puked on his roof.”

Blue eyes stared into yours, and you could literally feel Loki not believing you. Of course the God of Mischief would be able to spot a lie from a mile away. Still, he didn’t push the subject, something that you were grateful for. “Alright,” he said, leaning back into the couch. “Would you like me to sit with you?”

Fuck, you didn’t want to have to reject his company a second time, but you really needed to be alone right now. Loki seeing you have a meltdown would be the last straw, and you’d just end up throwing yourself off of the Stark Tower. No, it was better this way. “That’s okay, you get some rest. I’m not gonna keep you up for something so small.” You still hadn’t looked up, afraid that Loki would see the glimmer of tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. “Besides, you need your beauty sleep,” you tried to tease, but your voice came out flat and dull.

Loki thought for a second, then sighed. “As your king, I override your decision. I will be staying here until you’re feeling well enough to sleep.” He waited expectantly, obviously ready for you to make some bratty quip about not being one of his subjects, but it never came. You just didn’t have it in you.

Now that Loki had fully sunk down on the couch, his body was only inches from yours. You wanted so badly to lean into the heat of his side, to bury your face in the crook of his neck and let him cuddle your fears away. Instead of following your instincts, you squashed the daydream like a pesky bug. Nothing about Loki indicated that he was the cuddling type. Hell, he’d never so much as hugged you. He probably wasn’t a big fan of physical touch.

Deep breaths, you told yourself. Just keep it together until you’re on your own. That’s when you stiffened. Loki had stretched a long arm around you, and was looking at you intently to gauge your reaction.

“Is this okay? Humans are very social creatures, touch can help provide some comfort if you’re feeling ill.”

Loki’s scientific approach to the entire situation almost made you break out into laughter. Almost. Regardless, it was too hard to resist when you had such an open invitation. You scooted closer to the god and leaned against him, letting Loki hold you tight.

Before you could even try to stop yourself, you had burst into sobs. Something about being held had just broken the dam, and you were weeping uncontrollably into Loki’s shirt, sputtering out apologies all the while.

Loki shushed you and held you tighter, and you could’ve sworn that you felt an aura of possessiveness in his embrace. “It’s okay,” he murmured into your hair. “I’m here to help.”

You didn’t know how long you cried for, but when you were finally able to rein in the tears, you were horrified. Loki’s shirt was soaked with snot and tears, and your face was most definitely swollen and blotchy with red spots. And, worst of all, you had just proven to him that you were weak, and not worth his time. This was a disaster. 

Loki, hearing your sniffling come to a stop, pulled away to look at you, and bit his lip nervously before beginning to speak. “There’s something I must confess to you. Seeing you now, trusting me with your vulnerability-”

You cut him off by jumping up from your seat, knocking his arms away from you. Like hell you were going to listen to the rest of his rejection. You already knew what he was going to say. That you were weak, that he no longer wanted anything to do with you. “Listen, Loki,” you snarled, unable to mask the pain in your voice. “You don’t have to say it, I get it. I’m gonna go to bed, you don’t have to hang out with me anymore,” you said, rushing to get the words out before you died from humiliation.

Loki watched in bewilderment, his words of affection dying on his lips and you turned tail and ran out of the room. Rejected? By a mortal? He had never known such embarrassment. And you hadn’t even had the good graces to let him finish. His heart began to darken with rage and shame. Of course you ran away, of course you didn’t want to be with someone like him. No one did, he should be used to this kind of treatment by now. How foolish of him to think that you would be any different.

[ladykissingfish]

The Akatsuki as Parents

Obito

Was a bit reluctant when he found out he was going to be a daddy ... at first. Not because he didn’t want kids ((he really did)), but because he severely doubted his own ability to be a father. But the second he holds the baby in his arms, he’s hooked. He will be so eagerly helpful and hands-on that during the child’s infancy, the other parent will rarely have to lift a finger. Diapers need changing? Obito’s on it. Baby needs to be fed at 2am? Obito’s already out of bed and warming formula on the stove. Rash? Fever? A cough? Obito is consulting every doctor within a 20 mile radius on what to do. Note that Obito is a hard-core traditionalist and, if he isn’t married to the child’s other parent before he gets them pregnant, he’ll be persistent about doing so before the kid is born. Sobs the first time his child calls him “papa”. As the child grows older, Obito will be a tireless teacher and mentor, and you better believe that the kid will know every facet of what was once the Uchiha clan. Sharingan training is a bit nerve-wracking for Dad, because while he wants his child to grow strong, he knows the power of the eye is a deadly one, and doesn’t like to see his son/daughter get hurt. Is the type to be a bit more strict with his sons than with daughters, in fact being a complete pushover for anything his little girl(s) wants. Very, VERY likely to insist a girl be named Nohara. Also the type to sneak and let his kid eat lots of sweets (like Obito himself does) before meals, much to the other parent’s chagrin. Also involves the other Akatsuki members as uncles/aunt in the kid’s life, especially Itachi and Sasuke as he wants the kid to be exposed to members of the family more often.

Hidan

The literal first words out of his mouth are “pregnant? Why the hell didn’t you make me wear a condom?!” Takes a long time to warm up to the idea of parenthood, but once he does, he’s surprisingly better at it than anyone would anticipate. He tends to be very fast-paced in his body movements and not really used to being careful, so if he’s holding his infant it’s best to make him sit still in a chair first. Once the kid(s) is older, it’s better, because Hidan’s energy levels will match (and overshadow) even the liveliest of children. It will be a big point of contention between Hidan and his co-parent on whether or not to introduce their kid to Jashinism, and Hidan will eventually promise to wait until the child is an adult to start talking about “all that shit”; although Hidan’s idea of adulthood seems to be when the kid is old enough to use a kunai. Puts a startling amount of emphasis on his kid getting a good education, and will be sure to send him or her to the best village school that he possibly can. The reason behind this is because Hidan himself had a poor education growing up, and is in fact barely able to read or do basic math; and he says over and over that his kid “isn’t gonna be some dumbass like his/her father”.

Kakuzu

Nearly faints when told he’s going to be a father. Will immediately get out a calculator and start figuring out expenses like diapers, food, toys, education ... is so preoccupied that he ends up neglecting the person who carries his child, causing them to go off on their own expecting to be a single parent. Oddly, it’s Hidan who sets the old guy straight. He stays on his case and talks to him until the nonagenarian sees the error of his ways, and goes after the person having his baby. Kakuzu will be gentle with a baby, and show a surprising affinity for making up and singing lullabies. As the kid gets older, Kakuzu will be a bit more strict. “Food is expensive; you better eat every bite on your plate.” “A hole in your pants? No give them to me and I’ll mend them; buying new clothes is unnecessary.” His child will grow up knowing how to stretch a buck and budget money better than any other kid their age. Kakuzu isn’t really one for showing much warmth or affection, but there will be a few rare moments in his kid’s life where his father hugs him and tells him how proud he is of him. Kakuzu knows that the life of a shinobi is hard and therefore encourages his kid to pursue other career paths, such as opening up his/her own business.

Konan and Nagato

These two are so closely intertwined that they could only be parental mates to each other. When a baby comes into the picture, Nagato will still maintain his position as leader of the Akatsuki as Pein, but will insist that Konan quit. It’s for a practical purpose rather than a sentimental one; they both lost their collective parents to war, and Nagato always thought that if he had a child, he’d ensure that at least one parent would be around to always take care of him or her. Konan, however, will still keep in touch with all of the Akatsuki members, who will become very enthusiastic uncles to her child. She’s always been a good cook but with a child she’ll level up to professional chef caliber, creating dishes that are fun and healthy. Her child(ren) will be taught all of their mother’s paper jutsus, and Nagato will work to devise a way for the brightest one to get his rinnegan once he passes. The kids will primarily spend time with Nagato through Pein, and only be taken to meet their father when Konan feels they’re ready. Because Konan and Nagato had a childhood devoid of parental love, they’re often at a loss for how to be affectionate or sentimental, instead putting a lot of emphasis on “toughening” their kids up, so that they’re prepared to face the cruelties of the world. But the kids will know that mom and dad love them; it’s obvious in everything they say and do.

Deidara

Will be the fun, loving, yet highly irresponsible father. As soon as his kid is born he anxiously awaits to see if he or she inherits his explosion-release kekkei genkai; and if the kid DOES, he’s ecstatic. “Art is an explosion” won’t just be a saying in his household; it’ll be a way of life. The child will grow up given complete freedom to express his or her artistic tendencies, with Deidara highly praising any and every impact they make on the outside world. Yet despite being for artistic creativity, he’ll be (surprisingly) strongly against the child joining any kind of organization that’s like the Akatsuki; he regrets his own decision to join as he feels it out a horrible damper on his artistic expression and independence. Likes to tell his young children stories every night, which are actually just heavily edited and sanitized versions of his Akatsuki missions. Like Obito, will be a bit more of a pushover for a daughter than a son, and will love spending hours brushing and styling the beautiful long hair that the girl inherits from him. He’ll let any member of the Akatsuki around his kids except for Hidan (because he doesn’t want his foul language around the child).

Zetsu

There are people in this world who know for certain that their lives wouldn’t be fulfilled by having children, and Zetsu is one of these individuals. While wanting no offspring of his own, he IS rather a good “uncle” to the children of his fellow Akatsuki members ((although the majority of these kids are too terrified of his physical appearance to want to go anywhere near him until they’re at least teenagers)).

Sasori

A child would be hard-pressed to elicit any kind of emotional reaction from Sasori, as the man cleared himself of most feeling when he underwent his puppet transformation. However, one thing that he could never rid himself of, was his ability to love. Even if he has difficulty showing it, he loves his child and would do literally anything to help or protect them. When the child is a baby, Sasori will spend hours crafting tiny puppet-dolls for the kid to play with. As he grew up with a skilled medic grandmother, he possesses a wide knowledge of herbs and healing, which he will painstakingly pass on to his children. Not one to baby his children by any means, as he lives by the philosophy that the world is tough meaning you have to be tougher; however will offer advice, support, and encouragement on any issues that may be troubling his son/daughter. Early on he expresses a desire for his child to learn to be a master puppeteer like himself; however will be understanding if they choose to pursue a different path. Is very smart and naturally mistrustful of strangers, so will likely choose to educate his kids at home rather than send them to a village school. The type to seem more like a trusted mentor or an interesting uncle than an actual father; also the type to relate to his teen or adult children better than young kids.

Itachi

Itachi never feels like he deserves any of the good things in life, because of what he’s done, and therefore doesn’t know how to handle blessings that are given to him. A baby is the ultimate example of this. Itachi will feel as though any child of his would be better off not knowing him or being “exposed” to the cursed Uchiha bloodline, so at first he’ll make it a point to barely be around his baby ((even though this kills him inside)). Surprisingly, of all people, it’s Deidara who will talk him out of this mindset, telling him how important it is for a child to be around their father “even if he is a damned red-eyed weirdo”. Once Itachi allows himself to fully commit to parenthood, that’s it — he’ll be the best damned father in the universe. He’ll be warm and affectionate, especially liking to pick his kid up (no matter how old they are or how embarrassed it makes them) and squeeze them. He’s not much of a disciplinarian, believing that kids need to be able to make mistakes in order to grow from them. The only time he’ll ever get angry is when the child does something that could have resulted in a serious injury. Itachi’s intelligence has always been off the charts, and he utilizes this to help his kid be a spectacular student. In fact, as the kid gets older, they’ll start bringing his/her friends around the house in order to receive Itachi’s tutoring. Itachi’s brother Sasuke will adore his nephew/niece and come home more often simply to be with them. Also Kisame will come around practically every day, and the kid will grow up learning an impressive arsenal of water jutsus to compliment the traditional Uchiha fire jutsus.

Kisame

The tall, somewhat awkward father that scares all of his kid’s friends with his intimidating physical appearance ... until he opens his mouth and they hear a god-awful dad joke come out. Any child of Kisame’s is going to be part shark, and therefore have some affinity for being in/breathing under the water. Kisame’s favorite pastime will be taking his baby (and yes, I do mean baby, as he tends to start his kid on this when they’re young) out for long swims in the ocean. Kisame has always been self-conscious of his looks, so from the time the child is born he will spend a good deal of time teaching him or her to have self-confidence and love for him/herself. Like many of the others in the Akatsuki, Kisame never received much of a formal education, and therefore puts a lot of emphasis on his child going to a “normal” school and giving it their all when it comes to their studies. When the child proves him or herself physically capable, Kisame will start training with them on how to wield/control samehada, as well as fight with a variety of swords. It goes without saying that Itachi will be in Kisame’s kid’s life from the day they’re born, and be their favorite “uncle”.

[caramelcal]

Trained for Sin {part two}

Word Count: 2.2k 

Ship: Luke Patterson x Reader

a/n: wow...here is your highly requested part two! YALL GOT ME FEELIN FAMOUS!! Thank you so much for every single comment, note, request, repost and message. I am so thankful for them all and I’m glad you guys enjoy my silly little fics lol...

Would a ‘Luke Patterson’ tag be something you guys are interested in, so that you would be notified for every Luke fic I post or no? It’s just a little idea right now...

From Luke’s point of view for a bit of ~spice~

Warnings: friends with benefits themes, sexual themes, swearing 

Tags: @iainttakingshitfromnobody​ @ilymarkchan​ @starjane312​ @miranda0102​ @katrin-okay​ @mah-gah-lee​ @fantastic-fans​ @phantompogues​ @fangirlangioma​

disclaimer: i do not condone plagiarism on my work at all, this has not been posted on any other platforms, or on tumblr anywhere else but my account (rosemoonmist) if you see anyone plagiarizing mine (or anyone else’s account) please inform the rightful author ! thank you lovelies x

Part One   Masterlist

It wasn’t a particularly normal experience for Luke to be called down by his mom, but he tried to give it no thought as he bounded down the stairs that day. He could faintly hear the sound of a car starting up and leaving outside as he turned his attention towards his mom, “Hey mom, what’s up?”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he saw his mother stare down at the parcel with a slight, almost unnoticeable, frown. The older woman walked towards her son, giving him a weak smile as she spoke to him, “A h/c haired girl dropped this off for you. She seemed upset.”

That was even more confusing to Luke. Who would drop him off a parcel, and why would they be upset? He took the package off of his mother, flipping it around to look at the neat handwriting splayed out on the envelope that sat on top of the tan packaging of the parcel. That was your handwriting, but why would you send him a letter and a parcel?

Giving his mom a muttered thanks, Luke doesn’t stay around for any small talk and instead goes back up into his room, kicking the door shut behind him, all of his attention now on the parcel. Something is wrong, he knows that.

The guitar that Luke was playing before he was called down was long forgotten about as he sat down on the edge of his best, ripping the tan paper that you had wrapped the item in. You wrapped it as if it was a gift but it wasn’t. It was his hoodie he had given you the previous night in the car. Why did you not just return this yourself?

He placed the hoodie next to him on his bed, the envelope still in his hand. He was confused. Yet, as he opened the envelope and the key fell onto his lap everything started to fall into place. That was the house key he gave you so that you could come over whenever he needed you. With that, his stomach fell. No.

Luke was far from dumb, and he could already tell what this was going to be. He had dumped girls over text, he had dumped them in person, and just from the start of your letter, he knew what you were writing to him about. He just didn’t want to believe it.

Dear Luke,

This was probably not what you were imagining to get. Maybe you were imagining a present, or maybe you had a parcel that you were supposed to be getting delivered or something but this isn’t like that. Apologies for possibly getting your hopes up, but this way everything will be easier. I won’t have to fumble over my words and you won’t have to sit in embarrassment as some random girl tells you she no longer wants to have sex with you.

After that last statement, I can already tell you’ve probably stopped reading this, possibly ripped it up, or set it on fire and that’s alright. Yet, no matter how cliché it sounds, this isn’t your fault. This...Whatever we had was great while it lasted, especially at the start but now I have to search for something else. For something more...romantic.

I know you aren’t the romantic type, that had become obvious to me over the past months we have been involved with each other and that’s perfectly okay. I never expected anything more from you. I didn’t expect me to ever want anything more either but the more I watch the girls in the hallways with their boyfriend’s sweatshirts on, holding hands, kissing, hugging I can’t help but yearn for that.

I know I can never ask you to give me that because that was not our deal. I was never supposed to want anything more than meaningless sex, but I did, and I do. I’m just sorry it had taken me this long to realize this was not what I wanted; for either of us.

I think it’s best we don’t contact each other again, whether it be over the phone or in real life, not to give ourselves time to heal but to give us time to recover: for you to find a new girl that will give you everything I have and more; less commitment and more adrenaline and for me to find someone that will give me what I want. These last few months have been an interesting experience, and I wish you all the best.

I’m sorry.

You were gone, and you weren’t planning on coming back.

. . .

Luke had never been one for romance. The whole ‘teenage sweethearts' thing wasn’t for him. He knew that a lot of girls would kill to be in a relationship with him, but it was for popularity; you didn’t want that. Popularity was not a factor for you at all, Luke knew that even if he didn’t speak to you much.

Unbeknownst to you, Luke watched you too. Your small manners and quirks, and quickly became good at reading you. That was how he knew you were embarrassed in the car, even if he couldn’t see you blush. Luke knew a lot more about you than you suspected but the one thing he didn’t know was that you liked romance. Yet, it seemed that was new to you too. 

He thought you were all about the adrenaline and hook-ups like he was, and after seeing how you were on the first night you guys spent together, he thought you were more experienced than you had been. Walking through school felt different now as he glanced over at your locker, noticing your lack of presence. It didn’t feel right.

It was like an itch at his fingers, that something was off about him and he didn’t like it. Throughout the class, he couldn’t focus, his mind in a muddle and hands lightly trembling. It was like withdrawal. Withdrawal from you.

It wasn’t long before Luke walked out of the classroom, not caring about asking for teacher permission. Having a rich dad certainly had its benefits. The school was mostly funded by well-off individuals, allowing the school funds to pay teachers and make the school the best it could be, and with his dad being one of the main ones, he could get away with a lot. Luke’s dad never being around never really was an issue for Luke, he didn’t know what having a dad present was like.  Luke was just happy he could get away with a lot of things like skipping class and not handing in homework.

He made his way down the corridor, subconsciously finding himself heading towards the music department. It was abnormally quiet down there, normally the music department was bustling with sound, but maybe he would find sanity in the silence. That was what he was banking on.

A new sound evaded his senses however, the soft playing of piano keys in a nice and calming melody and he found himself drifting towards the sound. What he was met with, he was surprised. Leaning against the door frame, he watched you, your back turned to him, but he could tell from a mile away that it was you, “I didn’t know that you played.”

The piano playing stopped, indicating that you heard him, but you made no turn to move. He sighed, eyes looking over your figure before walking towards you. He slid next to you on the piano, looking over at your face, the direction of your gaze staying firmly ahead, not daring to stray to look over at him.

His gaze moved back down to the piano keys as he softly played a tune, clearing his throat a little, “Where is everyone?”

“Spirit assembly, they’ll be gone for the next two periods,” You replied monotonously as you continued to stare straight forward. Luke’s eyes stayed on the side of your face, not even looking down at the keys as he played effortlessly. You turned to face him, gesturing towards his face then to his hands, “Is this supposed to psych me out or something?”

Raising his eyebrows, Luke shook his head, his fingers lifting off of the piano keys, “What? No!”

“Whatever, Patterson,” You grumbled, getting up off of the piano seat and going to walk away, only for Luke to grab onto your lower arm in an attempt to stop you, “What?”

“I- uh- I just wanted to say you were good at playing the piano,” Luke commented dumbly, giving you a smile to which you responded with a blank stare. Luke did mean it when he said you were good at playing the piano but that was not what he meant to say. He meant to say something that would make you stay, that would get you to kiss him, to hold hands, and to be happy with him.

Because although he didn’t know it until he got your letter, he knew clearly now. He wanted to be with you, whether that meant fuck buddies, or if it meant dating with every single string attached.

“Really, Patterson? What are you trying to do here? Compliment me back into getting into bed with you?”

“Of course not,” Luke dismissed, climbing over the piano seat so that he stood right in front of you. He grabbed both of your hands, squeezing them in his lightly as he looked into your eyes, “Listen, I’m sorry.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, confusion striking you as you asked, “What have you got to be sorry about, Patterson?”

“Everything. Y/n, I-I’m sorry that I initiated this whole thing between us two with the no feelings, because from that moment on when I said no feelings I was lying to not only you to but me.” Luke started, looking down at the floor as he began to let his feelings take over. It was one of the first times that Luke ever found himself relying on feelings to get words across, but it felt good to be able to let it out, “Y/n, I always thought I would never do relationships, but with you everything is different. I would hold hands with you down the hall, run around confessing my love for you. I would kiss you and hug you until the sun rose. I would do anything for you, y/n/n.”

Luke’s hazel stared down at your eyes, his ramble coming to an end, making him whisper the end part as he leaned closer to you. Whilst one hand still held onto your hands, one of his hands was on the side of your face, a calloused thumb stroking your cheek gently as he bent down to make direct eye contact with you.

You were dumbfounded. Luke Patterson just confessed his love for you. Luke Patterson. You didn’t know what to say. You never thought that Luke would ever be the type of person to chase after a girl because he wasn’t normally. So why was he so eager about you? He never seemed to show any interest but maybe he was like you; hiding your feelings until they become unbearable.

Butterflies formed in your stomach whilst you tried your best to fight off the smile that came on to your face, looking at Luke with soft eyes, “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Luke nodded his head with a light laugh, a smile on his face. You didn’t say anything in return and instead, you connected your lips with his. You had kissed Luke one hundred times before but nothing compared to the electricity of the kiss you felt right now.

Whilst normally the adrenaline flooded your veins, instead, it was love. It was different from what you were used to, but every touch of Luke on you felt like sparks, like the passion you had put into the kiss sparked electricity with it.

Luke disconnected your lips as he looked down, his hand letting go of your face as his arms went lower, beckoning you to jump up with his head, so you did. With you now in Luke’s arms, you reconnected your lips again, hands pulling on the brown strands of hair on the back of his head.

You barely even paid attention to the fact that Luke walked over to the piano as you deepened the kiss, his teeth biting gently down on your bottom lip, making you open your mouth in surprise. He took the opportunity for his tongue to explore your mouth, and you allowed it, pulling yourself closer to his chest, trying to get as close as you could to the boy. The boy who just confessed his love for you.

The spine of the piano was folded down and Luke placed the top of the piano down, causing you to disconnect your lips and look down at the sleek, polished, black top of the piano that Luke placed you on top of. You looked back at Luke, a look of hesitation to which he nodded, “Luke, no, we can’t do it here! What if we get caught?”

“You said it yourself y/n/n, everyone will be at spirit rally for the next hour,” Luke smirked, kissing you which made you smirk into the kiss as well.

With that, Luke lightly pushed you down onto the piano, climbing over the top of you, letting out breathlessly, “I love you.”

Luke didn’t wait for your response as he bent down to your neck, sucking on it, prepared to leave many marks littering your skin. However, you didn’t oppose, instead your hands made their way up Luke’s back and into his hair, letting out a gasp as he sunk his teeth lightly into your skin. 

And so the games begin.

[nova-is-a-writer-now]

FOOLS pt.4

[[Zuko x Reader]]

<- previous next ->

Summary: Zuko and Y/N had liked eachother for a while even though neither of them knew it. Y/N tries to get over her crush for him, failing miserably. So just when she decides to let go and embrace her feelings, the new Fire lord finds himself feeling jealous and decides to take matters into his own hands.

A/N: This took way longer to write than I expected it cause I found myself getting stuck a bunch of times. I also had so many wonderful people sending me asks and replying to the previous parts, I really didn’t want to disappoint them so I was super perfectionist with this one. It got a little long and VERY angsty (again, sorry) but I think it’s pretty good, next part might be the last one, and I’ll try to write it ASAP to not leave y’all hanging lol.

Side note: this part is dedicated to the nicest person ever @eternally-infinitely who sent me the cutest ask and actually inspired me a lot to finish this. Thank you so much for reading and for being so kind, lots and lots of love to you <3

Warning: Angst, but it’ll end well i promise, language

-IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS DONT HESITATE TO ASK-

“Leave me here to die, Katara. I’m hopeless” you whined into your pillow. The curtains in your room were still closed, barely any light getting in.

“Y/N, you’re not dying, you’re not hopeless and I’m not letting you spend the entire day stuck in here alone. Zuko doesn’t deserve all this suffering, ok? You’re better than this. Now stand up, get ready and let’s go have our massages.” She said finally opening the curtains and pulling the blankets away from you.

“But-“

“Not a question.” Katara said walking out of your room.

You groaned loud enough for her to hear it from outside. Your eyes felt heavy, puffy and stiff from the tears that you’d let fall and dry the night before. Your head ached and for some reason you couldn’t get enough oxygen into your lungs. You felt the worst you’d felt in a while.

But wanting to avoid mom Katara’s reproaches, you put all that aside and made an outworldly effort to get out of bed and make yourself look as decent as you could.

Around twenty minutes later you were out of your room, heading to Katara and Suki’s. They both flashed a faint smile when they saw you.

“I look that bad, huh?” You said letting out a deep sigh

“Oh, no, no, no Y/N. You just look... tired. Did you get any sleep last night?” Suki asked.

“I’d be lying if I said I did” the worried look in your friend’s faces made you reconsider your words. “I’m fine you guys, I’m just being very dramatic. I’ll feel better after I get my massage, ok?”

Toph didn’t take much longer to arrive, rushing all of you to hurry up alredy. You had been ready for a while by then, but internally wished Katara and Suki would take all day so you wouldn’t have to leave that room.

They didn’t, of course, and moments later you and your friends were walking out the door. The fear of running into Zuko made your heart rush, the feeling of air not getting to your lungs intensified and you could tell your body wasn’t strong enough to deal with all that at the moment.

It was when you walked past the conference room, which had the doors open, when you met his eyes. Aang and Sokka where the only two other people there, they’d said something about having a quick meeting with the council that day, taking advantage of Aang’s presence and Sokka deciding to join in as well. Zuko looked as restless as you, but you were sure he had different reasons for it. You couldn’t hold your stare for longer than two seconds, the memories of the night before where starting to come back and it hurt too much for you to handle.

In a very out of character moment, Toph held your hand and pressed it softly. You figured she’d felt your heart beat, your breathing or whatever else that could’ve given you away. It did made you feel better, knowing that at least you had her there made it all better.

—————————-

You’d never been in a spa before, that time Toph and Katara went to one in Ba Sing Se you hadn’t been able to join them, but hearing Toph say how great it was surprised you, seeing as she wasn’t the type of girl to typically like that stuff.

Feeling someone touching you and massaging you was weird at first, you felt like dough for the first few minutes, but after you started to relax and give into the sensation it gave you, your entire body started to release the tension your muscles had been holding without you noticing. Next step in the spa day were facials, you decided to get one called ‘ocean tranquility’ for the mere reason that it sounded nice, Toph of course went for the mud bath and seemed to enjoy it very much. Finally, you decided to finish your session in the warm jacuzzi.

The experience was very enjoyable to say the least, you and the girls had a lot of fun and best of all the Zuko situation hadn’t even crossed your mind the entire morning. Forgetting about him was gonna be hard, but with the way he had been acting lately, he was the one making the job each time easier for you.

When you got back to the palace it was already time for lunch. A pit in your stomach formed at the though of having to sit across the Fire lord, having to talk to him or merely be in his presence. But you weren’t gonna give him the satisfaction of running away. The four of you arrived to the table first, taking your usual sits, Aang and Sokka came next talking about something that had happened in the meeting and the last one to get there was Zuko. His body was stiff, the restless look in his eyes you had seen that morning hadn’t left his face, and for a split second you wanted to walk over to where he was sitting and hug him. But you couldn’t, and that hurt.

The two of you ate silently, leaving the conversation to everyone else. You didn’t look up once after your plate was set in front of you, terrified of bursting into tears if you did, but Zuko on the other hand glanced your way more than a few times.

“So Zuko, what time should we be ready for the gala tonight?” Katara asked, you could tell she was making an effort to not act weird around him too, which you appreciated. You didn’t want your feelings for him to not only ruin your friendship but everyone else’s as well.

“We have to be there to receive all the guests, so even though it technically starts at around eight, we all should be ready half an hour prior.” Even his voice sounded weird, a tone you hadn’t heard him use ever since the days leading up to the comet.

When all of you were done eating, you went to your chambers to get ready. A couple of maids were called to help you out with the dress and with your hair, which took around an hour and a half. You chose an elegant up-do with very thin and delicate braids on the sides, letting the back and front of the dress showcase fully. You left the makeup to Suki, she decided to make your eyes smokey and your lips a wine tone, very much like your dress.

The version of yourself you saw in the mirror was one you hadn’t seen before, you looked confident and beautiful, and it seemed like the other girls felt the same way.

“I couldn’t have imagined us like this a year ago, back when we had to bathe in rivers and were constantly covered in dirt.” Katara said walking up behind you pulling Toph and Suki with her. “We’ve come so far.”

“Katara, if you make us cry and ruin our makeup I’m never going to forgive you.” Suki joked pulling all of you into a hug.

“I love you all... so much” you said back, you knew after surviving a war that every moment of peace with your friends was invaluable.

——————————————

You and the girls walked to the ballroom where the gala would take place. Aang Sokka and Zuko were already there waiting at the entrance.

Before the four of you even got half way to where they stood Toph grabbed your hand and said “You really look stunning, Y/N”

You chuckled lightly looking over at her. “Thanks Toph, but you can’t see me”

“Oh, I don’t have to. All I need to know is that Sparky over there nearly went into cardiac arrest when he saw you, so you must look incredible.”

You turned your attention to Zuko who was already looking at you. He looked heavenly, his suit was mostly black with some red details, traditional of the Fire nation, and it seemed to match your dress perfectly. His hair was up held by the royal head piece, leaving in full sight his handsome face. Your own heartbeat acelerated, and even though you tried to stop it you knew your cheeks were blushing just like his already were.

And for that split moment you felt everything fade away, what he had done, how you had felt, all of it. You wanted to let it all go, and you were ready to drop everything you had for a single word of his. Almost as if you were in a trance, you walked up to him while your friends all greeted eachother. His amber eyes locked with yours, you could tell he was trying to look for something to say but was having a hard time, so you decided to make it easier for him. “You look great”

He smiled softly before replying “You look perfect.” He said in a low raspy voice.

Before either of you could say anything else a moving figure caught your eye behind Zuko. It was Mai, wearing a tight black dress with embroidered golden details, and as always she was beautiful. The trance broke at the sight, you wanted to keep talking to Zuko, see where things would go, but you couldn’t, not with everything that was going on.

So you took one step back first, and then another until you were able to walk away from him and over to were everyone else was talking. Zuko’s eyes were covered in a confused look, until he looked behind him, where Mai was already close enough to greet him with a hug. He hugged her back but reluctantly, as if he had wanted the same thing you did a couple seconds before.

Not long after that, Iroh asked all of you to stand in a line to receive the guests, the would come in and individually shake each of your hands following Fire nation traditions. Mai stayed behind and you were the first out of your friends to walk up to Iroh, which meant you would be right next to the Fire lord the whole time. The universe seemed to want things to be hard for you that night.

So, as planned, the guests started to arrive. They weren’t only from the Fire nation, but people from all nations, you saw green gowns from the earth nation, and also blue ones from the water tribes. The first people to approach you were high commanders, you knew them from some of the meetings they had with Zuko, then there were a lot of people with political positions and finally came the people who were just normal citizens. They were the ones who greeted you with the most warmth, thanking you over and over again for ending the war, for saving them and their families, for being the heroes of all nations.

There were still a good amount of people waiting to talk to you and your friends but a familiar face stood out to you in the middle of the crowd. “Excuse me for a second, it was wonderful to see you.” You said to the woman who stood in front of you while discretely walking away from the group and into the crowd.

Doko’s back was facing you when you put your hand on his shoulder. He was wearing a blue suit with white details and his hair was slicked back. When he turned around to see you it took him exactly half a second to pick you up from the floor and spin you around, you were glad the ballroom was filled with the sounds of people chattering because otherwise your loud laugh would’ve been heard across the entire palace.

“Woah there, stranger. You’re gonna mess up my dress.” You said trying to get him to put you back down.

“Sorry, sorry, I forgot you’re royalty now, guess you’ve gone soft on me, Y/L/N.” He said bringing you down.

“I told you I’m not royalty and I’ll show you how soft I’ve gone” you said shoving your hands to his sides knowing he had always been very ticklish.

“Don’t you dare.” He said holding your wrists and moving away from you as he accidentally bumped into someone behind him. “I’m sorry, sir”

“Idiot” you whispered laughing.

“Yeah, yeah you’re very funny.” He said back while finally letting go of you. “But jokes aside, you do look stunning.”

“Thank you, so do you. Never thought of you as the suit kind of guy.”

“What one does for old friends. You’re owe me though, I feel like a penguin.” His hands went up to his collar which he still seemed to be getting used to.

“I want you to meet my friends, come on.” You dragged him back to the line where the group stood, noticing Zuko was missing. The thought creeped in the back of your mind but you pushed it away.

“Guys, come here.” You called, glad they were done welcoming people. “I want you to meet someone. This is Doko, we were best friends when we were little back in the Northern water tribe. Doko this are Aang, Katara, Sokka, Toph and Suki”

Your friend held out his hand to each of them individually as he said “It’s nice to meet you all. You’re saints for putting up with this one for this long” you punched him in the arm as a response.

“Oh, believe me, it hasn’t been an easy task.” Toph interviened immediately after, taking the opportunity to tease you.

“You know what, not going to that fight you have next week is starting to sound pretty good”

Doko and your friends seemed to get along pretty well to your relief. It warmed your heart to see the one good friend you’d had back home together with the best friends you met along the way. All of you took a sit in a table that was reserved for you. You talked about your adventures with the gaang, how you’d met them and how all of you found yourselves putting an end to the hundred year war.

“What about you, Doko? How come we didn’t meet you when we visited the Northern water tribe?” Aang asked.

“Well, I used to live there when Y/N and I were little kids. My father was a high rank bender, he was in charge of the protection of the tribe, but in one of the earlier attempts of invasion he died. That’s when my mom decided to take me and my sister to Ba Sing Se, you know, somewhere she knew we would be safe.” He bumped your side with his elbow before saying “I only found out you guys had been there days after you left, thanks for paying us a visit Y/N”

“I didn’t know you were there, none of us knew where you and your family went to after you left.” You explained. “Besides, we were kinda busy trying not to get killed, you know, usual touristy things”

As the night went on, you found yourself drowning in more laughter, the sound of upbeat music, funny anecdotes and an ethereal feeling you wanted to cling to for as long as you could. Zuko still hadn’t approached your table, which caused you to feel both relieved and heavy hearted.

At one point while Suki was laughing at something Sokka had said, she accidentally pushed his glass off the table and onto him, spilling its contents directly to his shirt.

“Oh, Sokka I’m so sorry.” She said trying to dry him up with a cloth napkin.

“Its ok, babe. You can’t even tell”

Katara looked at him disapprovingly before interviening. “Yes, you can Sokka. We still have to go up there in front of everybody for when Zuko gives his speech. You’re gonna have to change.”

“Well... there’s a problem with that.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t bring another shirt.” Katara let out a big sigh.

“How could I know I was gonna need another one?” Sokka explained.

You were trying to think of ideas to fix the problem when one popped into your head. “Wait... Zuko always has one spare in his office in case he needs it. I think it’s black, if I’m not wrong. I’ll bring it for you, I’m sure it’ll fit perfectly.”

“You’re always saving the day, Y/N. That’s why you’re my favorite.” Sokka joked gaining a punch from Toph.

“Hey! I thought I was your favorite.”

——————————

The closer you got to Zuko’s office, the quieter it got. The palace was only dimly lit by some torches and occupied by a few guards here and there.

Once you opened the door making sure there was no one inside, you looked around the place trying to remember where Zuko had told you he kept his spare shirt. A big piece of furniture made out of a dark wood that matched everything else in the room called your attention, you opened the little doors it had only to find, amongst other things like papers and supplies, a black shirt held by a hanger. You grabbed it carefully, trying not to move anything else. When you had the shirt in hand you were about to leave the office, but a folded piece of paper caught your eye. It was the only thing on top of Zuko’s desk, which you assumed meant it was the speech he had prepared, only he must have forgotten to take it with him. You opened it just to make sure it was actually the speech and you weren’t grabbing a random piece of paper. The first lines that were written there confirmed it was. He thanked everybody for attending the gala, he talked about this new found peace all nations were enjoying now and he reassured everyone of his endless compromise to keep working towards a brighter future.

It was all the usual stuff someone would say in a speech, until your eyes were drawn further down the page. The words you read there confused you, it made no sense, all the things he’d written there made no sense to you. Before you could read any further, the sound of the door closing behind you made you jump.

“What are you doing here?” Zuko asked dryly.

You couldn’t make yourself turn around to face him, you could almost feel the tears pooling in your eyes and clouding your vision. So you stayed right where you were and simply read out loud what you had in front of you.

“I want to thank the one person who has been by my side this entire time, the only one who’s picked me up every time I’ve been close to falling, every time I’ve felt like I wasn’t fit for the job or I wasn’t good enough to lead a nation. The one who has given me unconditional advice when I’ve needed it the most, and who has been my rock throughout this entire year. Mai, I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Y/N...”

“You know what, Zuko? I realize now I wasn’t mad at you for any of the things that have happened lately, I was mad at myself, I couldn’t even look at you but not because I was angry, it was because I was ashamed. I felt like an idiot for catching feelings for someone I knew could never feel the same way about me, but that’s not your fault, you don’t owe me feelings. But this is going a little too far don’t you think? Saying that the one thing that’s kept you going all this time is a girl I haven’t even seen since last year? Who wasn’t there when you had your outbursts of rage and wanted to burn the whole place down, who you didn’t go to before every meeting to ask for advice on how to deal with people, who wasn’t there for the nights when you couldn’t sleep because of the nightmares, Spirits! Who didn’t take the entire day to take care of you when you were sick. But I guess all that meant nothing to you. Why am I not surprised?”

You finally turned around, your cheeks already damp and your heart already beating as fast as ever. He looked speechless, like a child that had been yelled at for breaking something. You’d never seen a look like that in his eyes and it almost made you want to run into his arms, but your heart was already broken enough.

He took in a deep breath before braking the silence. “You’re being unfair, Y/N.”

“Oh, I’m being unfair? You’re unbelievable”

“Don’t you have a date waiting for you outside?” He spat a little more secure this time. His words weren’t being fully processed by your brain, it was like whatever he said was covered in a layer of fog and you couldn’t make sense of it.

“You’re right, I have friends who are waiting for me out there, and I’m not wasting any more of the little time I’ve got with them for you.” You made an attempt to walk past him but he grabbed you by the wrist and held you back.

“So this is how you deal with shit? You just run away from it?” He said, his voice breaking a little bit and his breathing fast paced and uneven.

You wanted to bark something back at him, to keep fighting and let everything you’d been holding back these past few days out, scream and yell and hit him and just make him hurt as much as you were hurting, but you didn’t have the strength. “This probably wasn’t a good idea, the whole moving into a palace with basically a stranger who I’d known for a few months before hand and thinking things would just work out, and seeing as I apparently haven’t contributed at all, I don’t see the point of staying any longer. So don’t worry, you’ll have the whole place for you and your ‘rock’ as soon as possible.” You escaped his grasp and walked out the door, trying your best to pull yourself back together before re-entering the ball room.

—————————-

No one asked questions once you were back at the table, but you were less talkative the rest of the night. Before you had to walk up to join Zuko while he was giving his speech, Doko grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours, the two of you used to do it whenever you were scared or nervous about something when you were little, and it gave you the strength to get up there and listen to the words Zuko had prepared.

He said basically the same thing you’d read in the paper back at his office, excluding everything about Mai, which was a relief cause you really weren’t feeling like crying in front of a whole crowd that night.

Finally, when the gala was over and people were starting to leave, you hugged Doko one more time, promising him you’d stay in touch and see eachother way more from now on. He seemed to want to say something before leaving but decided not to.

You didn’t even say good night to the rest of your friends, discreetly walking out of the ballroom and to your room. If your dress hadn’t been so tight and uncomfortable to lay down with you probably would’ve fallen asleep in it, but after a few minutes of struggling, you finally wiggled out of it and dropped it on a chair that stood next to your bed. You picked the first night gown you could find and put it on before burying yourself under the covers. Tears didn’t take long to fall once again. That horrible feeling of not being able to fill your lungs was back and a dark heaviness covered your body.

You wanted to sleep and get rid of everything, but you couldn’t get yourself to drift off. Several hours must’ve gone by because the sound of people waking and talking outside couldn’t be heard anymore. Silence made everything sink in, what you’d read, what you’d said to Zuko, what he said back. All of it. And right when you were about to let your swollen eyes close the door opened, no previous warning. It closed right back a couple seconds later, softly and carefully. You didn’t know who it was, but you certainly had no intention of talking with anyone, so you didn’t make an attempt to move.

“I know you’re awake.” It was Zuko’s voice. You were so shocked by that you started to think it might be your mind playing games with you, but when he spoke again, you realized it wasn’t. “We need to talk, Y/N”

Tag list: @darthsokaaa @royahllty @godoftheabyss @ilovespideyyy @literally-anythin @daddystevee @annie-are-u-ok @whalerus @galacticamidala @mangoberry43 @eridanuswave @katherinethedork @littleninjablake @taeeemin @cloudyloli @itsme5362

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Boys are raised to be men. Part 1 - Two broken people

Series Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: Things are different outside the city. When Bucky moves out of the city to live closer to his father’s best friend, Steve, he meets a peculiar girl from a strange family. She’s loved by everyone in the village and like him, she’s missing a limb. And, to Bucky’s surprise, she’s determined to make him part of her life.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2377

Author’s note: I am not disabled and I couldn’t ever imagine what it’s like. If you have anything to not about that aspect of the story, please send me a message so I can fix possible mistakes or misunderstandings in upcoming chapters. Also, let me know if you want to be tagged in future updates.

‘Good morning mister and misses Rogers.’ You smile and wave at your next-door neighbors who are enjoying the warm spring sun on their porch. In your hand is a plate of cookies. You have always liked baking and often bring a plate to your neighbors on Sunday so they have something to enjoy with their tea after attending church. You would join them at church but you are simply not religious and you can’t stand the pastor in this town. He’s a dick and after his son spent the night in your bed once, you can’t look him in the eye.

‘Morning Y/n,’ Steve replies with a smile. His wife, Peggy, gets up from her seat and shuffles inside to get another cup. She does this every Sunday. Well, she’s been doing this every Sunday ever since a few months. It seems her memory is declining quite rapidly but Steve doesn’t mind reminding her to do mundane tasks. He’s as happy as can be. From what he’s told you, their love story hasn’t been sunshine and butterflies at all. He was nearly killed in the war and just barely survived. When he came back, Peggy was engaged to another but they still found each other in the end. It’s beautiful. You could only hope to marry a man as kind as Steve, who will look at you like he still has a crush on you. Because damn, Steve looks at Peggy like he’s a schoolboy with a crush, like she’s the most beautiful woman in the world, like she’s the only woman in the world. It’s wonderful. You’ve seen that look on Tony’s face when he looked at your mother and you’ve been seeing it more and more from him when Pepper comes around. ‘How have you been Y/n,’ Steve asks, patting the chair next to him to gesture you to sit down on the straw chair. You put the plate on the table and take a seat. The chair barely budges under you even though the thing looks ancient. Good craftsmanship. ‘I’m doing well,’ you say with a smile, ‘I might not be a Christina but I do think the Lord has put an angel on my shoulder.’ ‘Well, you know we pray for you and Peter,’ Steve tells you with a gentle smile, ‘you deserve happiness after everything.’ Peggy steps back outside and shuffles her way over to you two. And of course, in true Peggy fashion, she’s heard everything. ‘I agree,’ she says as she puts the third teacup down on the table with shaky hands, ‘you two are wonderful children.’ Steve smiles at his wife and holds her hand to help her sit down comfortably, only turning back to you when he’s made sure she’s properly seated. ‘Say, how’s that man of yours? Ehm, Samuel, was it not?’ Steve nudges you like you’re two teenagers gossiping. You chuckle and shake your head. ‘Sam and I are still friends,’ you tell him, ‘nothing is ever going to happen between the two of us.’ ‘Maybe you should try living in the city if you’re not interested in the men here,’ Peggy suggests as she does every Sunday but you are perfectly content here. You’ve always liked the little life you’re living. You don’t need and don’t like the big fancy cars, busy streets, and small apartments. ‘I’d rather stay here,’ you shrug, ‘and there are enough people to choose from here.’ ‘Let’s go down the list of potential suitors for a second,’ Steve suggests but he’s not really interested in your opinion. He just wants to know who is with who and what the drama is. He just wants to know about the “youngsters.” Youngsters being people in their mid to late twenties. ‘First up, Thor Odison.’ ‘Lovely guy but he’s in love with Jane. You know, the farmer’s daughter.’ ‘Oh, those two are never going to work out,’ Peggy chimes in, ‘she’s way too much of an individual for him.’ ‘Agreed,’ Steve nods, ‘Loki Laufeyson?’ ‘No way,’ you laugh, ‘that man is a trickster. He’s a great friend but I could never date him.’ Peggy shrugs at Steve’s confused look. ‘Okay, that’s fair,’ Steve agrees with a sigh, ‘Natasha Romanoff?’ ‘She’s dating Bruce Banner. Besides, you do remember she’s my ex, right?’ ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Steve says with a sultry look and pats you on the shoulder for a second. ‘Don’t you work at her flower shop?’ Peggy looks quite confused as she asks you about it. ‘Yes, we’re still friends. We just came to the conclusion that we weren’t going anywhere. She’s great but just not for me,’ you explain. ‘How about the Maximoff twins? They seem like something you’d be interested in,’ Peggy asks. ‘They’re fine but Wanda is already dating Vision and Pietro, well, he’s cute but not quite my type,’ you explain but there’s a blush pulling up on your cheeks. Steve picks up on it right away. ‘Is that so? Didn’t I see Pietro sneak out of your house a few weeks ago?’ He grins, sipping on his tea. Gosh, for being elderly the two are awfully gossipy. ‘We’re not talking about those kinds of endeavors on the day of the Lord,’ you say to try and laugh it off while simultaneously admitting to Steve’s indication. Steve seems satisfied with this answer but Peggy seems lost in thoughts. ‘What about Bucky?’

‘Dad! Did you know we have a new neighbor,’ you yell into the house from the hallway while kicking off your shoes and hanging your jacket most hastily. You walk into the living room to see Tony sitting on the couch with a rugged-looking man. The man only has one arm, which has her surprised for a second but she isn’t one to stare as she is also missing part of a limb. Besides, there’s enough else to stare at. This man is a gift. His hair is a tad bit long and he has a bit of scruffy facial hair. And his lips. There’s something about his lips. The corners look upturned at any given moment. It makes him look friendly and approachable. You are certain he either is or used to be quite the ladies’ man. For a short second, you get lost in his icy blue eyes. Wow. Just wow. This man is beautiful. ‘I do know,’ Tony says a bit annoyed at your loud entrance, ‘Y/n, this is James Barnes. James, this is my daughter, Y/n Parker.’ James looks a bit confused at the introduction as his eyes flicker from you to Tony until you shake hands. He doesn’t ask about the difference between the names though. ‘So you’re Bucky?’ He nods at your question. ‘Would you prefer I call you Bucky or James?’ ‘Bucky. Thanks for asking.’ A faint smile appears on his face. ‘He’s already met Peter,’ Tony tells you to explain the confusion on his face earlier. ‘Ah,’ you chuckle, ‘I understand. We aren’t the most usual bunch.’ ‘James- I’m sorry, Bucky here is from the city.’ Tony completely brushes away the whole conversation and hops right into a new topic as you take a seat next to Bucky. ‘Why’d you decide to move somewhere so boring?’ Bucky seems hesitant in answering but something tells you it has a lot to do with his missing limb. You can tell by the way he’s slowly retreating into his jacket. ‘You don’t have to tell me,’ you assure him, ‘I don’t mind.’ ‘Thank you,’ he smiles gratefully and sits up a little straighter again like bricks have been lifted off his shoulders. You can’t help but wonder if your dad was interrogating him up until now. The poor man must’ve been stressed out of his mind. ‘So what do you do, Bucky?’ Tony asks it while he gets up from the couch, making his way over to the kitchen to get the grocery list you put on the fridge whenever you need something. After all, you made a deal yesterday. You cook, he gets groceries. ‘Not much these days,’ Bucky admits, ‘I used to be in the army.’ Ah, that answers a lot of questions. ‘Sow hat do you do to pass the time,’ you ask as you hear the front door close. Of course Tony wouldn’t tell you he was leaving. He’s just glad you took the unexpected guest off his hands. ‘I paint,’ he tells you, looking slightly more at ease now that Tony left, ‘I’m not great but it’s a nice way to pass the time and get some emotions out.’ ‘You’ll have to show me sometime,’ you say with a wink. It catches Bucky off guard. Did you just flirt with him? ‘Would you like some more tea?’ ‘Oh, no, I’m good,’ Bucky says and quickly gets up, ‘I only came by to introduce myself.’ You nod and get up to show him out. You notice he’s still wearing his shoes even though you never wear shoes inside the house. Tony probably felt bad about asking him to take them off so he didn’t. You watch him step outside but you just can’t let him walk away. He’s just too… Wow, he’s too beautiful for you to let him walk away. ‘If you don’t have anything to do tonight. Most of us hang out at the pub downtown every Sunday around seven pm.’ Bucky isn’t sure what to say and you feel obligated to keep talking. ‘It’s just a bunch of stupid people getting drunk but it’s fun’ And now you’re oversharing but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind. He shows a friendly smile but doesn’t look too sure of what to say. ‘You don’t have to but if you want to, I’ll leave here at seven,’ you tell him, ‘so I guess I’ll see you around?’ He smiles and nods to you. You close the door as he walks down to the house next door. Old man Steve’s house. ‘Ah, Bucky, how do you like the Parkers?’ Steve calls out to him before he can make it down their driveway. Bucky and Steve go back a long way. Bucky’s father was good friends with Steve and the man had always been like a backup dad to him. So when his father passed and he got overwhelmed in the city, the next best option was to go look for Steve. ‘They’re a strange bunch,’ Bucky admits, ‘but the girl, Y/n, she’s really sweet. She invited me to the pub.’ ‘You better go punk,’ Steve says in a tone that’s close to warning, ‘you won’t get a better offer to meet the youngsters in town.’ ‘Youngsters? From what you told me, they’re all nearing their thirties.’ ‘You know what I mean,’ Steve argues and waves it off. Bucky takes a seat with Steve on the porch, the chair creaking under his mass. ‘So what’s up with that family? I mean, I know of Stark industries but I never expected to find Tony Stark in a small town like this.’ ‘It’s not my place to tell you.’ Steve looks pained as he says it and it surprises Bucky. Sure, three people living in a house that don’t all share the same last name, there’s a story there. But Steve’s reaction makes him think it’s more than that. ‘Those three have been through a lot. They aren’t related by blood but they’re more of a family than most others down here.’ Bucky gazes over his shoulder at the house next door and watches as the door to the Parker residence opens and the two siblings come running out. The two are like spitfire as Y/n chases Peter for something that doesn’t seem to matter much to them judging by the smiles on their face. ‘I can see that.’ Then, suddenly, they hear Y/n yelp and she falls in the grass in front of their house. She lets a string of muffled curses fall from her mouth as her brother runs up to her. The two seem to be concerned about her leg. Steve tries to call Bucky back but he’s already running up to them. Peter sees him coming and tells him they’re fine but Bucky doesn’t want to go back to Steve. Instead, he kneels down next to Y/n. ‘Hey, are you okay?’ She doesn’t look at him. His eyes fall to the strange picture in front of him. It looks like her leg has been snapped in half at the knee but last time Bucky checked, ankles aren’t made from metal. ‘Yeah, fine,’ she grumbles as she pulls her flared jeans up to her mid-thigh to reveal the prosthetic that came off, ‘it just got stuck and I tripped.’ She grabs the metal leg and pushes it back into place like it’s nothing. Something stirs inside Bucky. “She’s like me,” he thinks, “she’s broken too.” But he doesn’t speak. He understands now why Steve tried to call him back and why Peter tried to tell him it was fine. He wouldn’t want help either. Because when you’re broken, people feel the need to treat you like a child, like you can’t do anything on your own, like you’re not a grown adult with a brain. You lost a limb, not your brain. ‘I’m sorry, I was worried you hurt yourself,’ he says softly and offers his hand to help her up but she politely declines and gets up herself. ‘It’s fine,’ she huffs and pushes her smile back on her face, ‘did you make up your mind about tonight?’ He smiles back at her. ‘Yeah, I’d love to join you. Steve wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I declined.’ ‘You know him well, right?’ ‘Yeah, he used to be friends with my dad.’ ‘Explains the pictures on the fireplace,’ she teases, ‘and all the stories.’ ‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Bucky groans, letting his arm drop to his side, ‘please tell me these friends of yours aren’t close to Steve.’ ‘Just Sam but I think you’ll like him,’ she tells him, ‘he’s the same kind of chaotic as you.’ She pats his shoulder and walks back to her house, Peter following her closely behind. ‘Great, just great,’ Bucky sighs.

[anika-ann]

What I’d Never Say or Do (Had I Been in My Right Mind) - Pt.1

We Both Break Free (…if We Make It on Top)

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2, part 3)  

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count (Ch1): 2050

Series summary: A story in which you officially come back from the dead, Tony with Natasha decide to take the blame for the whole mess and organize a party with unexpected party crashers and Bucky should consider thinking before speaking.

Fic title applicable to Tony, Natasha, Steve and his soulmate (aka the Reader), Bucky and his sort-of-buddy Matt Murdock and possibly few more.

Ch.1 summary.: In which Natasha and Tony go mad.

A/N: This series will be just a smaller thing, snippets set around The Age of Ultron (and later, Endgame). Later will be referred to as WINSoD because the title is a monster.

Warnings (ch1): mention of death and resurrection, mention of superntural creatures (see Errare Humanum Est), language, fluff

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Tony Stark was a ridiculously theatrical person.

While that was no news to anyone who knew as much as his name at least, but he still managed to outlive the legend, the reputation that preceded him.

He left you standing by the door, walked in to gain the undivided attention of the person inside the office and wanted you to reveal yourself in the exact right moment – a moment he trusted you to recognize.

Well. You assumed with a revelation like yours, it was rather hard to keep the drama away. But leave it to Tony Stark that he would blow it to proportion just to have fun.

“Tamara, darling!” the billionaire howled, the door opened only for a crack, so you could hear the reaction. You rolled your eyes, sighed and nervously looked around. The department was empty safe for the woman in the office, but it still made you feel uneasy; probably the effect of having to hide for the past weeks to avoid detection that could lead to a major scandal.

“Oh god, what happened?” Tamara asked, sounding as horrified as annoyed.

“Why do you assume— okay, that’s fair. How’s you hubby doing?”

“Alright,” the poor woman answered, clearly suspicious. “I more or less cleaned up the latest mess, so I’ve been coming home early…”

“Yeeeeah, about that. I have good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?” Tony offered cheerily.

“Bad news. Always. Let me just sit down-- no, no, don’t let me sit down, I have a feeling I’ll wanna pace irritably.”

That caused the corners of your lips to turn up. You were starting to like this woman already.

“I’m gonna need you to deal with a major scandal worthy of your skills.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere and I assumed as much.” Now you officially loved her – and you saw why Tony did too. Sass and snark; Tony’s language. “So, care to elaborate?”

“Nah, I’ll give you the good news. You’re gonna get some help. I brought reinforcements. She doesn’t have much experience with PR-” Try none. “-but I’m pretty sure she’ll be the one all the questions will be aimed at.”

“Oh my god, Anthony, did you get a woman pregnant?!” the woman hissed, not bothering lowering her voice. She sounded… kinda pissed. Which was reasonable, given the fact Tony Stark was happily-not-single with one amazing Pepper Potts.

“What? No! I have Pepper!” he opposed her, having the nerve to be offended. You smirked, hoping Jarvis caught that one line too. “This is all on Capsicle-“

“Captain Rogers got a woman pregnant?! What the-“

You felt like this was the moment.

“No, Mrs…. Tamara,” you said it the end, realizing Tony never told you the poor woman’s last name, and entered the room. “But his soulmate sort of came back from the death.”

Tamara was a middle-aged woman, with blonde medium-length hair and huge majestic glasses, business suit in a bloody-red colour and lips perfectly shaped in an “O” as you demonstrated the problem at hand.

“Holy. Shit.”

Leave it to Tony Stark he would flee the moment an actual explanation was needed, letting the others deal with the aftermath of his dramatic tendencies. To be fair, this was more of your drama, so…

“Good. Looks like introductions are not needed. I’ll send you the necessary data. Have fun.”

He strode through the door, winking over his shoulder at you and sending an air kiss to Tamara and you nervously smiled at the woman, your awkward side showing when you raised your hand to a reluctant wave before you could realize a handshake would be more appropriate.

“Uhm. Hi…”

The blonde blinked several times, shook her head with an incredulous chuckle and stuck out her hand.

“Hi. I’m Tamara, Antony Stark’s cleaning service. What can I do for you?”

Oh yeah. You’d get along just fine.

…

The story was simple and yet enough to make at least two Avengers very much hated.

Tony and Natasha, perhaps from some residual guilt of which you weren’t sure where was coming from, were determined to be thrown to the wolves of public.

Apparently, it had been all their idea – to have Steve and you kidnapped in the first place by the bomb enthusiast psycho. They had caught something fishy, been aware of it for a long time and opted for drawing the something rotten within SHIELD and company out by leaking early info on where you and Steve would be going to dates for several nights in a row without your or Steve’s knowledge. Perfect bait with nearly perfect surveillance background and safety measures.

Predictably, it had gone to shit and while you had never been blown up to death, which was something Steve had had zero clue about, you had been recovering from your life-threatening injuries for weeks in a hidden facility of top-secret location with way too much security. Still without Captain America’s knowledge.

Admittedly, this tale was a PR nightmare in making, not to mention a complete bullshit. Yet, the Avengers (sans Steve so far) unanimously approved of it. Tony and Natasha would be the first to blame, while the rest would reluctantly admit they knew as well and they had all kept it from Steve.

“You can’t be serious,” was all you managed to come up with, Steve sitting on the couch next to you while the rest of the team, the part that was momentarily on Earth, gathered around you to break you the news. This was what they came up with? “People will hate you.”

“And their hearts would still bleed for their golden boy, who would forgive us in time, especially since we offered his girl a job and an apartment she can’t quite refuse.”

“Wait, what kind of a job?!” Steve snapped, waking up from the deep thoughts he had fallen into with this stupid talk.

“The non-dangerous kind, Steve, calm down, please,” Natasha cooled him off flatly, but you could see her sincere gaze when it met with Steve’s. We wouldn’t endanger her, not again, it whispered. Steve’s shoulders slumped.

“What kind of a job?” you echoed, still worried. You assumed the apartment Tony mentioned was a place in the Tower, not bothering to ask about that part.

“PR. Unless you want to deal with your old job of which I have no doubt your best buddy would give back. I’d just like to remind you how the public reacted to you dying.”

Right. You wouldn’t mind a little privacy and safe space. You liked your old job, but it didn’t seem like an option now. Except… this was crazy.

“But they will still hate you. It makes you guys terrible friends and teammates. Frankly, it makes you kind of… terrible people,” you said slowly, taking time to examine everyone’s face.

“She’s got a point,” Steve agreed, wheels in his head clearly turning in a lightning speed.

“Meh. You should know what Fury’s up to during his ‘the end justifies the means’ periods – which is non-stop. I wouldn’t worry about that,” Natasha shrugged it off, pursing her lips a bit.

“Wasn’t it you who said you weren’t sure how to get her back to the world without having to explain she was literally led by an angel from Heaven?” Clint reacted to Steve, who sighed.

“Yes, of course, but this-“

“-is perfectly believable,” Natasha interrupted him, raising an eyebrow before beckoning to Tony and herself. “Me and Tony came up with the operation – a spy and a billionaire with questionable conscience. We pulled the rest of the team into the charade. This can work.”

“I can’t say I’ll enjoy this,” Bruce entered the conversation for the first time, surprising everyone. “However, it will allow you to walk the streets freely – with uncomfortable questions, yes, but it is a reasonable deal for us.”

“Steve? Thoughts?” the spy turned to him again.

Your soulmate observed his team for a long time, just like you, watching each of them individually, trying to read them as he himself was conflicted and undecisive. Finally, his eyes settled on you, a hint of an encouraging smile on his lips.

“Doll? How do you feel about that?”

The softness of his voice, the actual freedom he gave you when it came to this decision warmed your heart and made you shudder at the same time. You had no doubt he had come to a decision; but the final step was on you and you only. He would be affected too, of course, but this was your life that could turn upside down for like… what, the third time since you had met him?

You worried your teeth over your lower lip. “I mean… I’d really appreciate not having to hide in here all the time, but… I don’t want people to hate you, guys. I feel like I caused enough problems-“

“No, doll,” Steve whispered, his hand covering yours and squeezing firmly as he locked his gaze with yours and didn’t let go. “I’m not asking about them. I’m asking about you. They are clearly willing to do this.”

“Are you?” you questioned despite being confident about his answer.

“Do I love you?”

That caught you off guard. “Huh? That’s not what I-…?”

What did that even mean? Did he love— come again? How was this about his feelings towards you all of sudden? Was it time to question them? God, you hoped NOT.

“That the newest version of asking whether the sky is blue, doll,” he explained with a lop-sided smile and you released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.

Idiot. Sap. Sweet-talker.

“You’re such a sap.”

“You love it,” he hummed confidently. You smiled despite your better judgement. You loved him. And yeah, you loved this silliness too.

“I do.”

“So… are we doing this? Together?” His smiled grew a little wider, the twinkle you adored appearing in his eyes and you couldn’t but squeeze his hand back.

“Yeah. Together.”

“Jarvis, send Dum-E with some insulin shots,” Tony cleared his throat and you felt your cheek dust with a blush, roughly pulled out of the haze Steve managed to put you in once again. “We’re all having unhealthy sugar rush.”

The captain rolled his eyes. “Har, har, Stark. Are you guys really okay with this?”

Clint huffed. “It’s not like people will start planning our assassination more than they do already.”

“Tamara might,” Natasha opposed, amused.

“Ah, poor Tamara, I better bring a wine with me when asking…” Tony mused, scratching his goatee.

You turned to the red-head spy, not happy about being out of the loop.

“Who’s Tamara?”

Tamara, the head of the PR department for Tony (and sometimes for the Avengers too, because those two clients, so to speak, often came as a package deal), was currently starring at you speechless when you told her the tale of what actually happened and what lie they had decided to feed the public.

The silence lasted long enough for you to start worrying.

“Are you alri-“

“Angels are real?!” she burst out, nearly making you jump out of your skin with the sudden exclaim. You placed your palm over your chest to keep your racing heart inside your ribcage.

“…yes. But so are demons, shapeshifters, witches and so on, so…”

“Not a good thing to go public with. Got it. I understand the cover-up now. Though people being able to be resurrected would be enough on its own even without the… creatures. My my… we have a lot of work to do.”

“I’d imagine,” you agreed, not having a clue how to do this and where to start.

The woman looked at you over the rim of her glasses, her smile kind, in the Stark contrast to her loud cry only few second ago.

“…you don’t have any experience with PR at all, do you?”

“Nope,” you admitted, accenting the P and looking away, ashamed that Tony threw you into this without giving you anything helpful.

Now Tamara had to deal with the scandal and with you trying to help. That woman was worthy of some serious pay raise (though you had no doubt Tony paid her enough for her to own a villa or something, exactly as much as she deserved for dealing with his shit).

“I’m gonna kill Anthony, I swear…. Okay,  let’s get this shit on the road. Also, Jarvis? Tell Antony to get the freakin’ wine ASAP.”

Oh yeah. You would actually adore Tamara, you were sure of it.

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Part 2

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Here we go! The final part of the series. Admittedly, I’m not sure about quality of this thing, but I’m trying.

Chapter titles are taken from the chorus of Les Friction’s What You Need

Thank you for reading ♥

(I’ll be tagging my Errare Humanum Est taggies, if you don’t want ot be taggged anymore, let me know)

[yikesharringrove]

Umm, I accidentally deleted the request for this while moving it to my inbox, so here it is. (Also this is like, four months old).

I’m gonna rec this fic which is super well written and adorable

Steve is ftm. (Personally, I’m not a big fan of mpreg unless it’s like, biologically plausible 🤷‍♀️)

Under the cut bc it’s long and there’s a little bit of smut.

-

Billy’s hands were shaking as he raced out of the house.

He had a bag slung over one shoulder, had already put two others in the Camaro.

His dad had gone in hard today. Three days after Billy graduated high school and he’s already calling him a deadbeat, a fuck up. Telling him to get a job like he hasn’t worked every summer and most weekends since he was fourteen.

He lit a cigarette as he slid into the driver’s seat.

He was gonna make one stop on the way outta town.

-

Steve had given Billy a spare key months ago, after he was tired of always having to go downstairs and answer the door.

He liked it when Billy just made his way up, started kissing whatever skin was already exposed and asking Steve if he’s wet.

Tonight, Steve thought, was no different.

Billy was kissing up his calf, mouthing along his knee, a few fingers creeping up the leg of his shorts.

Billy was the best sex he’s ever had. Not a lot of gay guys will go down on Steve, some won’t even fuck him. He had been real hesitant to tell Billy, start having regular sex with his best friend, because he didn’t think Billy would want anything to do with him when he knew what he was bringing to the table.

But Billy had told him not to be an idiot, ate him out, and pounded him into the mattress.

And Steve was in love.

So he let Billy fuck him whenever he pleased, because at least Billy was giving him the time of day, at least he was getting some.

He opened his eyes, smiling lazily down at Billy.

“‘Time is it?”

“Almost two.” Billy was curling two fingers into his waistband, slowly pulling down his shorts, like maybe Steve wouldn’t notice.

Steve lifted his hips, and Billy whipped off his shorts, diving right in for his pussy.

He ate him out with the same fervor he did everything. Making all these gross slurping sounds, sucking on Steve’s cock and shoving his tongue inside him.

He made Steve cum twice on his face, as was the norm, before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and getting right to business.

He fucked Steve like he was mad at him.

He often did. And Steve knew he wasn’t mad at him, moreso mad at the other him, the him that’s ruined Billy’s life since before he was even born.

Steve wasn’t as dumb as everyone thought. Knew that when Billy snuck into his bedroom at odd hours of the night and absolutely ravished him, something bad had happened with his dad.

So when Billy finally rolled off of him, and lit a cigarette, Steve knew better than to ask.

“I’m leaving.” Steve just hummed at him. Billy sometimes stuck around after sex.

But Billy didn’t move.

“Like, leaving Hawkins.” Steve just hummed again. Billy talked a lot about leaving Hawkins. Steve had always secretly dreamed of running away with him. 

Billy just studied his face in the dark, stubbing out his cigarette and rolling over to hols Steve close to his chest.

Steve closed his eyes, let himself pretend.

Pretend that Billy loved him back.

-

He woke up to rustling, Billy getting dressed to leave as weak sunlight began to trickle through his curtains.

“Oh shit, didn’t mean to wake you.”

He smiled lazily at Billy.

“You comin’ back over tonight?” Billy looked stiff.

“Probably not. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah. Later.” Billy was sitting on the end of his bed, had just finished tying on his boots.

And then he moved, quick as a flash to kiss Steve softly before he was thundering down the stairs.

Steve was just falling asleep as the Camaro roared away.

-

Billy had skipped town that night.

And Steve never forgave himself.

-

Steve was leaning over the counter, his head pressed into the cool top of it.

“I threw up all last week, and I just feel like shit.” He had been whining to Robin practically all morning at Family Video.

“Do you think you have the flu?”

“I don’t know, Rob. I mean, my stomach hurts a lot, but like, it feels like I’m just having awful cramps.”

“Are you on your period?”

“Nah. Don’t get it very often with the hormones anymore.”

“Normally I’d suggest pregnancy, but I know you’re in a bit of a dry spell.” He rolled slightly to look darkly at her. “Still no word of Billy?”

“No. The one person in Hawkins that isn’t too transphobic to fuck me, and he skips town.” Steve sighed. “I should’ve known, too. He was being super weird that night.”

“Whatever. When you and I skip town, we’ll have the time of our damn lives, and get you laid.” He laughed softly.

“I’m just gonna go to the doctor this weekend. Get a full physical.”

“Let me know the verdict at and I can come over with some medicine, if you need.”

“Thanks, Rob.”

-

Steve was lying back on the stiff exam table.

He had already given blood and urine samples, and was just waiting for the doctor to tell him what the fuck was wrong with him.

Sometimes his hormones had to be adjusted, and caused all sorts of weird shit to go haywire in his body.

Dr. Mauch was a kind woman, always been pleasant and accepting of Steve, even referred him to an endocrinologist for his hormones.

She didn’t smile when she came in, though. Just sat down at her stool.

“I’m going to go out a limb here and say that this is not news you’ll be happy about hearing.”

Steve felt his heart drop to his stomach.

“You’re pregnant.”

He blinked.

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. But you most definitely are.”

“But, but I’m on blockers, and testosterone, and I haven’t had sex in months.”

“I’d say about six months.” His mouth was dry. Billy had left in late May. About six months ago. “And being on hormones is not an effective method of birth control. Some men still get pregnant after taking them.”

“I’m not, I don’t look pregnant.”

“Some people don’t really show their pregnancy. My sister was rail thin the entire time, had a perfectly healthy baby girl. It’s all about your body type.”

“So, so you’re telling me, that I’m six months fucking pregnant.”

“Yes.” He slumped back onto the exam table.

“What are, what are my options?”

“Well, unfortunately, not many. Abortions are only legal in Indiana up to 20 weeks, or five months, or unless the person pregnant is facing severely compromised physical health. There’s always adoption.”

“No one’s gonna want a baby from a trans guy.” She pursed her lips.

“I think that’s a harsh statement. Many people are desperate for babies.” Steve just stared at her.

“So, if I have to take it to term, should I like, go off my hormones.” His stomach gave a lurch at the idea.

“I would recommend it. There’s very little research one pregnancy in transgender individuals. We really don’t know how hormones can affect the baby.” Steve sighed. “I would say, get in with an OB/GYN. I can recommend a few I know and send them your medical history. Your name change and hormone therapy is part of all of it, so hopefully they will be kind.” Steve sighed.

“Thank you, Doc. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m sorry for the disappointing news.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” She gave him a copy of their appointment notes, a list of OB/GYNs for him to research, and a hug before she left.

He drove home slowly, feeling exhausted, like the weight of the fucking world was on his shoulders.

He got home to find Robin sitting on his front porch, her nose buried in a book, a pizza box sitting next to her.

She looked up at him, and he burst into tears.

-

“Look, Max, if he contacts you in any way, tell him to call Steve, okay? It’s important.” Robin was yammering to Max on the phone, trying to get a way to contact Billy.

Steve was laying on the couch, had his shirt rucked up over his stomach, pushing it out and sucking it in, trying to see any change in his body.

“Just give him Steve’s phone number and tell him he’s an asshole.” She hung up the phone, perching on the armrest at Steve’s feet.

“She know where he is?”

“No. She said he ran off and hasn’t contacted her at all. She didn’t even know he was leaving.” She slid onto the couch, let Steve put his feet on her lap. “You think he’d come back? If he knew?”

“I don’t know. I’m not really asking him to. I mean, I don’t think I’m in a place to take care of it, but I kinda just want him to know it exists. Like, I think he deserves that.”

“I get it.” Her voice was soft. She watched Steve stare at his tummy some more. “I’m sorry. I’m sure this is just, dysphoria out the wazoo.” Steve huffed a laugh.

“I don’t think it’s really hit me yet. I think ‘cause I’m not showing. I don’t look pregnant, so how can I be pregnant, you know?” He sighed tugging down his shirt. “Going to the doctor’s gonna be a damn nightmare, though. They’re too used to dealing with women. It’s gonna suck.”

-

Steve was right.

Even though his primary care doctor had sent his medical history, he still got deadnamed and misgendered at reception, and intake, and by the nurse, and the doctor when she finally arrived.

They gave him a pelvic exam, getting him in for a sonogram as well.

And as the doctor was moving the imagining wand around on his tummy, and he heard the heartbeat for the first time, something caved inside of him.

A baby. He was having a baby.

And part of him, a really fucking big part of him, was starting to love it.

-

His parents were home for four days.

And Steve had waited for the final day of their homesteading to tell them.

He’s glad he did.

Diner was as quiet as always, and Steve had nearly choked on the words.

“I’m pregnant.”

His father had gotten out his wallet, asked how much an abortion costs.

“I’m too far along for that. Nowhere will legally do it.”

His mother had just stared at him. His father asked how far along he was.

“Close to seven months. I didn’t even know until like, a week and a half ago.”

And his father had stood up, and the yelling began.

“I can’t believe you. You kick up this huge fuss, make us change your name, and the way we refer to you, go around telling everyone your a boy, and you get pregnant like the little slut you are.”

And he had told Steve to back his shit, told him he was not welcome in my house anymore.

And Steve didn’t have a lot of shit he cared about, the clothes he liked fit in one duffel bag.

His mother didn’t look at him as he left.

-

He had called Mrs. Henderson from a payphone.

Nobody else could give him a ride anymore, and he wasn’t expecting her to drop everything and drive him somewhere, but she had freaked out at the words kicked out and for getting pregnant, and told him to stay where he is.

She was there with a tight hug and a travel mug of honey lemon tea within twenty minutes.

Steve had asked for a ride to a youth shelter he had read about, but she shook her head, said you’re coming to live with me and Dusty and Steve had cried in her passenger seat, and again in her guest bedroom.

-

Steve groaned.

He had finally begun showing, just a little bit out a mound near his belly button.

But he felt like shit, had taken to spending most days in bed.

He bat away whoever was shaking him.

“Go away.”

“Steve, it’s Max.”

“I’m sleeping.”

“I found Billy, you asshole. I have his address.” Steve sat bolt up straight.

“You, where is he?”

“Boston. He went east, for some reason. But he sent me a letter, out of the blue, and I told him you had something important to say, but he said he doesn’t have a phone.” She handed him a slip of paper.

“Thanks, Max.” He gave her a weak smile, found her chewing her lip.

“Is he the father? The other father, I mean.” He had told the party about the pregnancy, figured rumors would begin spreading soon enough.

“Yeah. He’s the other father.”

“He wouldn’t have ditched you. If he’d known.”

“I know.”

“He’s not like that.”

“I know.” She stared him down. He kept his face open, honest.

“Are you gonna write to him?”

“Yeah. I just, I don’t really know what to say.”

“Just keep it simple. Tell him he’s got a kid. Let him choose what he wants.”

-

It took Steve almost a month to draft a letter.

He didn’t really know what to say.

He settled on the bare minimum.

I’m pregnant. And it is most definitely, without a doubt, yours. I’m not expecting anything from you. I don’t want money, or for you to move back to Hawkins. I just thought you deserve to know about your kid.

He read the letter about three times, one hand pressed delicately to his little bump.

I’ve decided to keep the baby. I’m going to raise them. You’re welcome to meet them, and be in their life if you choose, but if not, I’m not going to hold it against you.

He sealed the envelope, leaving it on his nightstand.

And then his contractions started.

He didn’t get around to sending it.

-

Claudia was the only person in the room with him when he gave birth.

She held his hand the whole time, coached him through his breathing.

And when his son was born, she pet his head, told Steve how beautiful he is.

-

Steve was slumped face down on the bed.

He had just gotten Oliver down, calmed him down enough for him to finally sleep.

He rolled over, scrubbing a hand down his face.

He had barely slept all week. But Oliver had smiled at him for the first time yesterday.

He turned to lay on his side, zeroing in on the envelope on his nightstand.

He sat up quickly.

Fuck. He needed to send that letter.

He didn’t bother thinking about it, just wrapped his sweater tighter around himself, and hurried to the mailbox. He put the little flag up, leaving the letter in the little inner clasp.

He looked back down at Oliver, running one finger over his fuzzy little head.

-

He didn’t hear from Billy for three weeks.

He knew the letter wouldn’t take more than a few days to get to him, and it would take just as long for Billy to get him back.

He had pushed Billy out of his mind, figured if he wanted to be part of Oliver’s life, he had given him enough of a chance to be.

He put on a thick sweatshirt, had taken to wearing baggy tops to hide his tits, too sore, too big to bind anymore. Oliver squealed at him when he leaned against the side of his crib, reaching out for him.

He strapped him into his stroller to take him on a walk, stopped dead in the doorway.

Billy fucking Hargrove was in the driveway, standing next to the Camaro like he had just gotten out of it.

His eyes were wide, trailing from Steve, to Oliver, and back again.

“Is that my kid?” Billy’s hair was shorter than when he had left.

“Oliver. His name is Oliver.” Billy stepped around the car.

“Can I, can I see him?” Steve brought the stroller down the driveway, taking Oliver out of the stroller.

Billy held him like he was made of gold.

“He’s beautiful.”

“I think he looks a lot like you.” Billy smiled at him.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here, I was waiting for my semester to end.”

“It’s okay. I just, you know. Thought you deserved to know about him.” Billy stared at Oliver, his smile going soft as Oliver squealed, tugging on Billy’s hair.

“I want to be in his life. If that’s okay?”

“Of course it is. He’s your son too.” Billy brushed his thumb down Oliver’s nose.

“Thank you, Steve. And I’m, I’m sorry about how I left. I was going to-” he cut himself off, looking back at Oliver. “I was gonna ask you to come with me. Chickened out last minute.”

Steve’s heart was banging against his rips.

“I would’ve gone with you. Used to dream about running away with you.” Oliver started getting fussy, making disgruntled little huffs. Billy passed him back to Steve. “I was in love with you. You know that?”

“Yeah, I knew that. Was to chicken shit to do anything about it.” Billy was still looking at Oliver, the way he nestled into Steve’s neck. “He loves you a lot.”

“It’s been the two of us for awhile.”

“You’re a good dad. Always kinda figured you would be, though.” Billy took another breath. “You know, you could’ve told me sooner. I would’ve come back.”

“I don’t want you to, to change you life. Don’t quit school, or something.”

“Steve, I got a kid. I want to change my life for him. For, for you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“No never did. I’m choosing this. I’m choosing my family.” Steve hesitated.

“Would you like to come in? Have some breakfast? You could give Oliver his bottle, If you wanted.” Billy’s eyes lit up.

“I’d like that.”

[artificialqueens]

Tree House Kisses, Chapter 41 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Hi everyone! Okay so, in this chapter, they begin working on a new musical, and I URGE you to check it out if you haven’t: The Scarlet Pimpernel. Also! I made a playlist with every song we’ve used as chapter titles, including the upcoming ones pretty much through the end of the story. Click here for previous chapters or here if you’d rather read on AO3. And thank you SO MUCH to wonderful betas: @saiphl, @sillylittlecandycane!!! XOXOXO

Chapter Summary: New semester, new school musical: and Courtney’s star is finally on the rise.

Chapter 41: You Are My Home

It was weird having Roy back home for the holidays, Adore thought, watching him tell a story to Bob, Jamin, and Thorgy, commanding all the attention as usual, sipping from a solo cup and gesturing wildly. It was even weirder to see him getting sloppy-drunk as the night wore on--Adore supposed that college was a bigger challenge than he’d planned for, and maybe he needed to blow off some steam. Still, seeing him grope Courtney as he bent her over Thorgy’s pool table was certainly...something different.

It was over a month since the night of her break-up with Tati, that near miss where she’d come so scarily close to a confession. Once in a while, late at night, she’d have a brief twinge of regret for not being honest. Most of the time though, she felt like she’d absolutely made the right call--their friendship was stronger than it had ever been. So Roy’s dumbass horndog behavior tonight was actually making her laugh.

Maybe it was Courtney’s eye rolls as he rubbed against her, but Adore didn’t find Roy nearly as annoying as she used to. He was no longer a looming, oppressive reminder of her hopeless crush. He was just a guy who came back from college to awkwardly hang out with his high school friends over winter break. A guy who was currently grinding pathetically against his girlfriend, trying (and failing) to get some affection.

“I thought you were gonna teach me Vanessa’s tricks,” Courtney said, pushing him away gently as she lined up her cue.

“I’m trying, but I need to get close,” Roy said, pulling her ass back against him. He leaned forward and murmured something into her hair, something which made her burst out laughing.

“Ummm...no offense, babe, but I don’t really feel like you’d be on your A game tonight,” Courtney said, still giggling.

“Rude,” he pouted.

Courtney looked up, catching Adore’s eye and sending her another exaggerated eye roll. Adore smiled back at her, shaking her head.

“Do you want to sleep over tonight?” Courtney asked.

“Yes,” Roy said, moving her hair aside to kiss her neck.

“Not you!” Courtney said, swatting him on the shoulder before giving Adore an exasperated look. “I meant Dory.”

Adore knew that it was petty, but she couldn’t help the slight thrill that Courtney was choosing her over Roy. It didn’t mean anything--they’d gotten back into their old habit of Adore staying with her every time Bonnie worked a night shift, and she knew that’s all it was. And anyway, it probably wasn’t going to happen, given the way Roy was now pouting and whining.

“Why her? She gets to see you all the time!” Roy argued, indignant. When Courtney didn’t immediately cave, he tried a softer tactic. “Please, baby, I miss you so much…”

“Fine. You can have the floor,” Courtney said, taking Adore by such surprise that she didn’t have time to cover her mouth before a loud cackle of laughter escaped.

“You are the meanest girlfriend in the entire world,” Roy said.

“I know.” Courtney leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek.

-

PEARL: How was your sleepover?

ADORE: So weird

PEARL: Did all three of you pile into Courtney’s bed?

ADORE: Ew, not that weird. No, Roy slept on the floor in a sleeping bag and Courtney and I slept in her bed. So like...just awkward as fuck.

PEARL: What’s wrong, you don’t like spooning her while her boyfriend is 2 feet away?

ADORE: Ugh

PEARL: Wanna come over today? Trin’s gonna be here in like an hour

ADORE: I can’t. I told Court I’d go ice skating with her and Roy.

PEARL: Well well well, how cosy

ADORE: Shut up

PEARL: The three musketeers

ADORE: SHUT UP

Adore sighed. She supposed it was probably strange that she’d been spending her whole break hanging out with Courtney and Roy, but it wasn’t her fault. Courtney invited her everywhere and Roy was just...always there. Besides, when it really came down to it, she liked Roy. And she liked how happy Courtney was when all three of them were together. And to her relief, they’d chilled out a lot on the PDA, now more like an old married couple who teased each other constantly and bickered playfully, using Adore to settle every disagreement.

So, if they had to be the Three Musketeers for another week, Adore was actually fine with that.

-

The musical for their senior year was The Scarlet Pimpernel, and Courtney was absolutely beside herself with glee when she landed the lead. All weekend, she listened to the soundtrack on repeat, falling in love with the music and story and her character, a French actress named Marguerite who was embroiled in a complicated love triangle with her British aristocrat husband and her French revolutionary ex-lover. She sang the songs over and over until she knew them by heart, and drove everyone in the household bonkers with her attempt at a French accent.

They had their first cast reading on a Monday evening in mid-January, and as usual, Mrs. Maguire had them sing through their songs as best they could. Courtney was especially excited when it came time to sing her duet with Adore, who was cast as her brother. It was a gorgeous, sappy ballad and one of her favorites in the show, always making her tear up.

Adore began a bit tentatively, since she hadn’t spent nearly as much time listening to the soundtrack as Courtney, but after a few bars, she got into it too, the drama of clinging to her “sister” as they waited in jail, facing the guillotine together.

“You are my home You make me strong And in this world of strangers, I belong to someone You are all I have You’re all I have; I need you so…”

Courtney, of course, had already memorized every word, and she sang directly into Adore’s eyes, arms wrapped around her neck.

Later, in her office, Mrs. Maguire was sitting pensively, brow furrowed in concern when Thorgy came in to let her know that the crew was finished cleaning up.

“Thor...let me ask you a question. I need a...second opinion.”

“Sure.”

“Do you think it was a mistake casting Courtney and Adore as siblings?”

“How so?” he asked carefully.

She cleared her throat. “Well...do you think they have too much of a...how should I put this...romantic vibe?”

Thorgy burst out laughing.

“Mrs. Maguire...girl…you don’t know the half of it.”

“So, I didn’t imagine that?”

“No. They’ve always been like that,” he told her.

“I mean, I knew they were close friends, but...isn’t Courtney still dating Roy?”

“Yeah...yeah. But…well, you saw it.” Thorgy chuckled again.

“Oy.” Mrs. Maguire picked up a cast list. “I may need to change some things around.”

The next day, a solution fell into her lap when Willam came to see her during the fourth period, looking more distraught than she’d ever seen him. Apparently, he was committed to the show choir for the Spring, and there were a bunch of scheduling conflicts with rehearsals, making it damn near impossible for him to play the title role he’d gotten. It was unsettling to see a kid who was normally as cool as a cucumber so upset.

“I don’t want to quit, I love doing the plays so much,” he said tearfully, and she jumped up to give him a hug.

“Of course you don’t want to quit. Listen, honey, it’s your senior year. We can definitely figure out a way for you to do both, okay? I might have to shuffle some casting, but it’ll all work out. I promise.” She hugged him again, patting him on the back.

“If you tell anyone I cried, I’ll key your car,” came his muffled voice, and she laughed, promising to keep his shameful secret.

Once he left, she sat back down, a relieved sigh leaving her. This could work out perfectly.

She spoke to all the kids individually about their new casting. Bob was over the moon when he found out he’d be taking over Willam’s title role: the wealthy aristocratic Percy, Courtney’s new husband, who uses his foppish clothing obsession as a cover in order to go into France and rescue his friends from the guillotine. And Willam was thrilled that not only did he still have a part, but a good one--taking over Adore’s role as Courtney’s brother, Armand. Adore was also delighted--she now had Bob’s role, a radical and sexy French revolutionary and compelling villain. After reading the script closely a few times, she asked Mrs. Maguire if it was necessary to play her new character, Chauvelin, as a man.

“Can’t I be a radical leftist woman instead?” she asked, during that first week of rehearsals.

“I don’t see why not,” Mrs. Maguire answered, tossing out a casual, “Courtney, Chauvelin is now your ex-girlfriend, not your ex-boyfriend.”

Courtney looked up with wide eyes before smiling and nodding, giving Adore a sassy wink. This show was certainly going to be interesting.

-

As a gentle knock sounded, Courtney rolled over slightly, whimpering. She was achy and feverish and felt absolutely awful. And to make matters worse, she’d missed two whole days of rehearsal with no telling when she’d feel better. At this rate, Mrs. Maguire would probably be giving her part away to her understudy, a freshman who’d never even been in a play before.

“Come in,” she said weakly, tears collecting in her eyes as she thought about how unfair it all was. She’d worked so hard, taken ensemble roles and been an understudy herself and helped with ticket sales and sold ads for every program and never complained, and now she was probably going to lose her one chance to be the lead in a musical.

Adore pushed the door open, offering a sympathetic, “Hey, babe, how ya doin’?”

Courtney tried to lift her head, even that small movement making her wince in pain, hot tears trickling down her cheeks.

“Don’t get up!” Adore rushed to her side, placing a few books on her nightstand. “I just came by to bring your homework.”

“Thanks,” Courtney said, sniffling.

“What’s the matter?” Adore pressed a cool hand to her cheek, lips turned down in a frown as a tear slipped down Courtney’s face.

“I’m just worried that Mrs. Maguire’s gonna give my part away,” Courtney admitted.

“Don’t worry about that. It took all of today’s rehearsal to get through half of ‘The Creation of Man.’ We have plenty of shit to work on without you. Besides, no one but you could do that part justice, anyway.”

Courtney blinked back her tears, gazing up at Adore with a grateful expression.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I promise!” Adore laughed, climbing into her bed to sit beside her. “Stop worrying, okay?”

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get sick too?” Courtney said, pulling her blankets tighter around her shoulders.

“Nahh. You know Bonnie makes me do that dumb FluMist vaccine every year. I’m invincible.”

“I don’t think that’s actually true,” Courtney said, covering her mouth with her elbow to cough.

“Well, whatever. It’s worth it to hang out with my best friend.” Adore smiled down at her, and Courtney felt like she might cry all over again.

“Thanks, baby,” she murmured softly.

“Omigod, also...the craziest shit happened today at lunch, I have to tell you about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, okay so first of all...did you know that Violet applied to Columbia early-decision and got in?”

“Wow.”

“Wow is right!” Adore exclaimed. “I mean, I know she’s smart, but she doesn’t give a shit about school. But apparently she got like, practically a perfect score on her SATs. And then everyone else started talking about what school they want to go to and they have all these plans and backup plans and I just...I had no idea our friends were like...so school motivated. It’s fucking weird.”

It surprised Courtney too...maybe not as much as Adore, because she’d figured that Trinity would have ambitious school plans, and Fame as well. And Pearl, well Pearl wasn’t very scholarly, but she assumed that she’d want to go to an art school or something.

“And I guess you’re probably planning to go to UCLA and move in with Roy or something,” Adore mumbled.

Courtney let out a rueful laugh, shaking her head. “I don’t have the grades for that.”

“What?” Adore looked confused. “Your grades are fine.”

“They’re okay. I could probably get into a Cal State. But Ms. Patterson told me in the fall that any UC is a pipe dream. So I’m probably gonna just do two years at a community college and then transfer.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah,” Courtney said, a deep sigh leaving her. “It’s for the best. We’ll save a bunch of money. My dad said he’d pay for my room and board, so I can still move out, thank god.”

“Move out where? Are you staying in the area?”

“No...but I dunno exactly. People say that Santa Barbara City College is good. Or Santa Monica college. It would be so great to be by the beach.”

“Ugh, I’d love to live near the beach. What I really want is to just move to LA, get some shitty retail job or whatever, and work on my music. I’m like, so close to convincing Bonnie what a good idea it is.”

“Adore! Omigod!” Suddenly, the aching in Courtney’s exhausted body didn’t matter, as she hoisted herself into a seated position to look directly into Adore’s hazel eyes. “We should be roommates!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! It would be perfect! Don’t you think?!” A smile lit up Courtney’s eyes, so big she thought it might split her face in two.

“Well...yeah, maybe...that could be cool.”

“I know, right?! Omigod, we’d have so much fun, and we could totally save money!” Courtney exclaimed, reaching forward to pull Adore in for a hug, her ecstatic joy pushing aside any thoughts of giving the flu to her friend.

Adore hugged her back, a light giggle slipping from her lips as she said, “I guess now we have a plan, too.”

-

Courtney was bone-tired. By the time she got over the flu, she’d missed a full week. Between catching up on her classes, the extra rehearsals, and struggling to memorize her lines, not to mention playing referee to Karen and Muriel’s latest argument over whether it was appropriate for Karen to have overnight guests, she felt like she could sleep for a week.

But she’d already agreed to this Saturday rehearsal, and she knew she needed it anyway, so she dragged herself out of bed and showed up at the theatre with an extra-large frappuccino that didn’t seem to help her exhaustion, but did make her jittery and off-balance.

That’s probably why she missed her cue, while working on her scene with Adore. At least, that’s what she would claim if anyone asked.

It was the scene in Act One where Adore’s character, Chauvelin, was trying to convince her to leave England and come back with her to Paris. She’d been zoning out a bit while Mrs. Maguire talked to Adore about the scene, explaining that her character needed to be angrier. Courtney really wasn’t paying attention like she should, but it was something about how Adore was supposed to be extra angry because not only did Marguerite abandon the French Revolution to marry a British aristocrat, but she’d also abandoned her.

Anyway, she wasn’t prepared when they started up the scene again, for the intensity with which Adore spoke her next line: “You do not belong in this cold land, with no one to understand you...to touch you.”

Adore let her fingers graze Courtney’s cheek before grabbing her waist and pulling her in roughly. A small gasp left Courtney’s lips, staring into Adore’s burning hazel eyes.

“The girl I knew could not bear this another moment,” Adore said, in a hoarse stage whisper.

As Adore inched closer, mouth softly parted, Courtney’s heart raced, fingers digging into Adore’s shoulders, eyes wide...

“Uh, Courtney?”

Courtney’s head snapped up, towards Mrs. Maguire’s voice. “Yes?”

“You’re supposed to push her away.”

“I know,” Courtney said, cheeks burning. “I was just trying to, um...act conflicted about it.”

“Wow, good work. We really believed you,” Mrs. Maguire said, and Courtney shoved Adore backwards, making her stumble slightly, nearly tripping over her feet.

“Oh god, are you okay?” Courtney reached for her hand to steady her.

“Yeah, sorry, I, uh…”

“Why don’t we take this section again, from Marguerite’s line ‘What do you know of it?’” Mrs. Maguire said, disguising her amused chuckle as a cough.

“Yeah, sure, okay.” Courtney brushed off her hands, hoping that the burning in her cheeks wasn’t obvious to everyone watching.

-

“So, Karen’s into Palm Reading now, huh?”

“Uh huh,” Courtney laughed. They were sitting around the tree in their usual lunch spot, Courtney sharing her mother’s latest passion by attempting to read Adore’s palm.

“So is that shitty broken one my lifeline?”

“No, this one is your lifeline…” Courtney said, finger trailing across Adore’s palm, making her giggle.

“And? What do you think?”

“You’re gonna live a long time.” Courtney grinned at her, eyes shining.

“Fuck,” Adore pouted. “You sure? Can I change that?”

Willam let out a braying laugh.

“Yeah, I know what you mean, lesbian. Personally I want to die young and beautiful.”

“One out of two isn’t bad,” Violet shrugged, earning a punch on the shoulder. “Ow!”

“Good one,” Trinity giggled.

“Watch it, cuz. I could punch you, too,” warned Willam.

“You just fucking try it. I dare you.”

“Guys, please calm down,” Fame interjected. As always, the voice of reason.

Still holding Adore’s hand, Courtney touched her palm again, shivers traveling up her arm.

“Stop it,” Adore said, biting her lip, but making no move to pull her hand away.

“A long, long life…” Courtney continued, flashing her winning smile.

Adore smiled back, but then off Violet’s intentionally loud scoff, she cleared her throat and finally snatched her hand back, just as Bob approached the group.

“Hey, uh...I need to speak to my wife,” Bob said, and Courtney laughed, getting up and following him a little ways away from the group.

“Is everything okay? Do you need-”

“What’s going on with you and Adore?” he asked quickly, head tilted down at her, brow slightly furrowed.

“What do you mean?” Courtney’s thoughts started racing, her heart beating quickly.

“Don’t play dumb with me, I’ve known you since we were 4.”

“I’m not playing!” Courtney said. “Maybe I’m just dumb?”

Bob put his hands on his hips, glaring at her. After a moment, he narrowed his eyes and said, “He really loves you--”

Courtney sighed. “I know, Bob. Okay? You don’t think I know that? And I love him-”

“--More than you deserve.”

Courtney looked at him for a long moment, a sarcastic comeback on the tip of her tongue, which she swallowed down, defeated, shifting her gaze to the ground.

“I know.” Her voice broke on the last word, a lump rising in her throat.

Bob’s voice seemed to soften a little, saying, “Look...I’m just trying to-”

“I know, you’re looking out for your friend,” Courtney said tiredly, still avoiding his knowing brown eyes. Tears stung in her own eyes. “I get it.”

“No. I’m looking out for my friends.”

At that, Courtney looked up at him, surprised.

“You’re my friend too,” he continued. “And Adore’s my friend. And I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Courtney bit her lip, nodding. “Me neither,” she managed to whisper, before a single tear began to burn its way down her cheek. Bob pulled her in for a hug.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I know.” Courtney sniffled against his shoulder. “You’re a good husband.”

“Oh yeah? Then why aren’t you in the kitchen making me some pie?”

Courtney laughed, parting from him with a good-natured shove.

“You okay?”

She nodded. “I really do love him, you know.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He smiled ruefully. “Things can’t ever be easy, huh?”

“No, I guess not.”

He pressed one last fatherly kiss to her forehead before leaving to join his own lunch group. Courtney took a moment more to collect herself, then walked back to the tree.

“What was that all about?” Pearl asked. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just some stuff about the play.”

“I’m so excited to see this play, it’s all you guys talk about,” Tati said.

“Yeah, better live up to the hype,” Trinity warned.

“Oh, it will,” Adore promised her with a charming grin. “We’re fucking amazing.”

“Damn right it will. Although, let’s be honest, I would have been a much better Percy than Bob,” said Willam.

“Ehhh…” Courtney grimaced.

“Fuck you, cheerleader!” Willam exclaimed, chucking an orange slice at her face.

“No I mean, you’d have been great in the campy parts, but the sincere romantic stuff? Not so much.”

“Yeah, remember last year? You two were the least believable teen romance ever,” Adore laughed, and Courtney joined in, nodding.

“Exactly.”

“Are you saying I can’t play it straight?” Willam looked deeply offended.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what we’re saying,” Adore told him.

“Oh yeah? Well, watch this…Come here, Virginia.” He grabbed Tati, who immediately squirmed away.

“Don’t touch me,” she said, pushing him onto the grass.

“Sorry.”

“See? A straight guy wouldn’t have listened,” Violet commented drily, making all of them crack up.

[currentfandomkick]

Marinette did not sign up for this part 4

hey, so OG chapter 4 will now be chapter 5 as the gremlins hijacked this chapter.

part one here   previous part here   ao3 here

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            Damian stared in quiet horror as he looked over Ladybug’s exploits after hacking into Paris’ servers. His sister—the one he took down with little effort—had been defending the city for a month before he appeared. From the video of “Stoneheart” he could tell she was given no training. And her partner was flirting with her! When he should be focusing on the mission!

             What gathered from further research was the following: his sister and her ‘partner’ were untrained. Their teammates were also untrained. A team of ten untrained teenagers—perhaps younger—were tasked with keeping a villainous coward from stealing their magic artifacts, and with stealing his in turn. A team lead by his sister. A very alone, scared girl from his one interaction with her. Smart (he saw now she knew how to save her own skin. Redirecting his attention was a good move at the time). She is smart and creative because if she isn’t, then her city and her will lose. Be under the control of some madman.

             He had to get there, and he doubted he could convince Jon to help him at the moment—why are kyptonians always fighting one another when you need the assistance of one?

             Father would stop him.

             The League was keeping Father in Gotham and he didn’t have individual access yet…

             He was stuck for the moment, and did not like it. Perhaps Grayson could prove useful? He’d ask once the man was done resting from patrol.

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             Cass was enjoying Paris. She spotted the possible sister at the bakery with her adoptive mother. They were happy. Cass likes that.

             Cass moved quickly through the crowd, managing to make it to the bakery.

             Marinette ran into her.

             “Ah! Sorry!” the girl managed to catch her things before they hit the ground.

             Cass waved her hands, indicating there was no harm or foul. The girl was no clumsy—Shifu Cheng was ill-informed. Those reflexes and her expression before indicated nothing but an intense focus on something else. On what, Cass wasn’t sure.

             Yet.

             For now, Cass took a seat in the bakery, smiling at the kind woman working the front. Sabine Cheng, the woman who raised the maybe-Bat.

             Cass began doing her own research, messaging Babs that she saw Soup Girl for a moment, and would be assessing her parents. She knew of cases in Gotham where things weren’t always right, and she wanted to be certain that this girl was safe, regardless of if she’s a Bat or not.

--------

             Tim decided to ignore Babs offer in the end. The possibility of owing Jason was low given both him and Cass are on the Case. Jason is good, don’t get him wrong, but the chances of Jason actually talking to the girl in a real conversation before the rest of them? As Red Hood?

             This is a calculated risk and the odd are in Tim’s favor. (Well, not in Jason's.)

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             Steph hummed as she went over the designer pool she was looking over. Shockingly low given its Paris—granted 200 girls is a lot to investigate… she didn’t give the others all the information she had though.

             According to Damian, she “posts a disgusting amount” which means she’s posting or tagged often. When she used some of Babs old filtering program with social media involved, it brought the candidates down to 30. She could go through thirty teenage designers social media and comb over who at least has some genes that are dominant from the Wayne side. Her natural hair had to be medium brunette at the lightest, so the natural blondes took out seven candidates right off the bat. While blue or green eyes would give them more priority on the list, eye color genes are weird. Weirdly, five of her candidates had attached earlobes, so she only had 18 left after that filter was put on… Bruce’s hair isn’t curly, so two girls with intensely curly natural hair were taken off the list. Bruce’s thin lips only knocked out two more candidates.

             That left Stephanie Brown with 14 designers in Paris to find and investigate in the right age range, because she doesn’t think Bruce started having sex at 15, unlike Tim who is allowing college kids into his ‘could be Bruce’s daughter’ mix.

             Stephanie is also going to need a plane ticket to meet these girls, and that means getting help from one of Wayne kids… Or stowing away on the private jet that she knows Tim can and will be using sometime today to do ground work himself.

             She’s cool stowing away—Babs is covering for her on principle since Tim wouldn’t take the deal. Steph was smart enough to relinquish one piece of blackmail in total in exchange for use of Babs filtering tech—she has more than that thanks to one Supergirl spilling a number of things Babs has done over the years. Has Stephanie mentioned she’s the only one of the Bats to listen to Oracle, Queen of Technology, in this bet? She is, and she is better for it.

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             Marinette managed to make it to the Agrests Mansion with little issue this time. Today she was going to one of the production lines with Gabriel to learn how to reset the machines and program them to follow any simple stitch pattern she wanted. It was good.

             She also noticed that during none of her times with Gabriel, was there a single akuma sighting. Not an attack—those never happened anywhere near their time together. It was an… interesting pattern. She was beginning to suspect that if Hawkmoth wasn’t Gabriel (he was akumatized, it can’t be him. Get that theory out of your head Marinette), then it had to be someone who worked for him, and high on the food chain.

             She made sure to memorize each of his ‘supervising managers’ and partners’ names. One of them had to be Hawkmoth. And Gabriel had to be someone that this Hawkmoth either really respected or really didn’t want handle re-scheduling with. Which would be all of them…

             She really wished she had more time to dig into their lives herself. For now, she had to trust Max and Markov to do the research… which reminded her, her name had been pinged on multiple searches in Gotham last night. From numerous devices. If the Bats were planning anything…

             Marinette gripped her purse a bit tighter. Her team has her back. She just doesn’t want them caught up in this mess too. She wishes that Aquaman never showed up. If he hadn’t, then the Bats wouldn’t be looking into her civilian life, the one they already knew about but only now deemed worthy of their attention.

             She wished they would just stop—she won’t look into the Great Detectives. She knows she’s not one of them. That she wouldn’t hack it in Gotham. But Damnit, in Paris? Her Territory—she does more than hack it. Sure, she may have blown herself up that one time, and yes, there is the timeline where as Princess Justice she may have sort of broke the world by forcing it to conform to that akumatized version of hers’ idea of Absolute Justice (apparently she was ruthless, made no exceptions and took out a third of the Justice League using Multimouse at the time on top of it all). Yes, she is not a perfect leader. Or hero. But Damnit, her (admittedly two) supervillians have been almost caught twice. Her re-akumatazation rate is much lower than any of the Justice League’s heroes’ normal villain or general crime recidivism rate by more than a little. By a lot. She’s not some Detective but she’s a damn good strategist, a champion at improvising and she and her team do work with the public and victims and reworked so much of Paris’ social culture to lower akuma-creating circumstances and keep the public emotionally healthy.

             She’s no detective.

             She’s a Guardian. That means caring about the details that shift the bigger pieces. That means adaption with what is there and creating what she needs. That means knowing her limits and getting help—to set an example and prove that not even her or Chat are an island. That even superheroes need help, need others and need to work together.

            She’s no detective. Detectives work alone.

            Her? She’s forged a team that (she hopes) could become the new Order of Gaurdians with her… some day. For now, they’re heroes with the same mission and different roles to play.

            Marinette just wishes that she could shut up this hunch since its been disproven. Her instincts on guilt and possible baddies aren’t the best—Adrien’s job is to sense what’s wrong and take them out. Hers is to make whatever is needed to help fix things, to push someone forward and help them grow. Her job to craft a better tomorrow today… and to do that, she lost the parts of her that picked up Danger. She can still find Caution signs (and her anxiety will always invent danger) but real Danger detection went to Adrien when she agreed to become Ladybug in the first place… And until both her and Adrien renounce their roles as the pair wielding the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculouses, she’ll always be missing it.

            The same way Adrien is missing his ability to think outside the box—seeing things as what they could become to help them went to her. He can only see potential threat and act on them. She can only see potential aide and act on that.

---------

            Jason grinned when he managed to make it into Paris. The second there was some damn akuma attack, he was grabbing the baby Bat and hunting Hawkmoth his way—she need the jewelry? Fine. She can have it. The guy brainwashing kids? The one that slaughtered the city? He’s Jason’s. ---------

            Bruce didn’t like being benched. He doesn’t like not knowing he had another child. He especially doesn’t like that this one is constantly preventing an apocalypse and his allies can’t be bothered to even send him anything about it. Not even a basic ‘she’s not living on the streets’ like Jason did. Or ‘she’s got parents here, calm down’ so he could get this stupid instinct to storm Paris and take on the bastard threatening his family that he didn’t know he had.

            Apparently Barbra has a hunch, but isn’t sharing until she has “conclusive evidence” of his daughter’s identity. Damian just isn’t speaking of it. As if being someone’s father biologically gives him a built-in alarm system for when he’s had a child and the ability to track them down at birth. Damian being raised in the League of Assassins should be enough proof to the contrary there.

            The others were… he wasn’t absolutely certain, but fairly certain his self-proclaimed ‘middle kid club’ were tracking his missing daughter down themselves. Possibly to claim her as part of their group, specifically.

            God, she was so young, It was before he even heard of the League that she was born. In that lifetime before becoming Batman. Would she like him? He was absent her whole life—did she want to meet him, meet the family? They’re a mess, he knows it. But they’re his—he chose them and they chose him. Would she chose him too?

            He watched another video of Ladybug in her early days, before she and her partner (dear god he’s cat-themed. Is it genetic? Should he test her and himself for some ‘drawn to dresses-as-a-cat’ gene?) were given any kind of training.

            She blew herself up to stop her city from being taken over by ‘Animan’ and his creatures.

            His daughter.

            Exploded.

            (She died. She died and he didn’t know. God he’s a horrible parent, and he hasn’t even parented her yet.)

            She died.

            To keep her city safe.

            She somehow reconstituted. But her face, in that video, she was shocked.

            His daughter should be dead but she’s not.

            Magic, he’s so glad his daughter uses magic.

            He. He’s going to need to consult someone. Raven? Raven should work. He can’t talk to the Justice League—nothing wrong with talking to the half-demon all of his Robins that lead the Titans has worked with.

            Loopholes.

            The Justice League is horrible at closing them.

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            Dick wanted to be mad when Damian came clean to him about the needles. He wanted to freak out over almost losing a sister he hasn’t met.

            He did.

            But.

            But this is Damian.

            Damian who still has trouble connecting. Who still flinches at certain tones of voice and phrasing. Damian who desperately wants to do Good but… struggles.

             Damian who has all of Bruce’s communication problems and then some.

             So no, Dick did not scream when he found out Damian only sparred “the blood daughter” because she looked too frail and weak for her to be considered anything resembling a threat to him. He did not sigh when he found out that Bruce didn’t know when Damian assumed he did. He did not hit himself when Damian discussed the various weapons he’d gifted her as a apology with the bouquets over the years and their meanings.

             He did take a deep breath, and begin explaining from this baby bat’s stance what had happened.

             “Imagine for a moment that it was me before I became Robin, and I was almost killed by someone who only let me live if I never contacted a shared parent or that parent’s known family. How do you think Pre-Robin me would have responded?”

             “You would have feared for your life and done whatever you could to prevent contact.”

             “Now, imagine I wasn’t told who to be avoiding, only aliases.”

             “You would avoid everyone with an alias that you did not help them create, and keep them from unknown aliases.”

             Dick snapped his fingers. “Exactly. That’s what this sister, what are we calling her?”

             “Her alias is Ladybug.”

             “Yes, that is what Ladybug was going through before Aquaman made contact.”

             Damian was quiet for a moment. “She must be on edge.”

             Dick nodded at that. “She probably is.”

             Damian furrowed his brow. “Do you think the League would allow me to contact her and end our agreement?”

             Dick rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure, but we can try.”

             “… And if they refuse?”

             “Then we find another way. We’re Bats,” Dick reassured Damian. He just hoped the missing members weren’t doing anything too rash…    

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

             Marinette made a (painful) decision. Adrien and her would swap miraculouses—at least until there were less pings on her sites from Gotham. For added protection, she kept the Mouse miraculous on. Chatte Noire was less known, and she doubted Wonder Woman or Aquaman informed Batman about the miraculous of Creation and Destruction’s particular… refusal to let anyone but a pair chosen together to wield them at any point.

             Chatte Noire would only be on call for a day or so… what’s the worst that can happen?

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the characters are jinxing themselves, and procrastinating the (vague) plot of Shenanigans. i swear. 

if anyone can message me on how to add in a read more, that’d be great since i know these can get long to scroll past for mobile users.

@heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace @jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04 @laurcad123