#sure she doesn’t turn into a deer often if at all but sTILL my point still stands

[finvisual]

my half orc bb got turned into a deer peep last week- so I had to doodle this to celebrate the occasion <333

[amorgansgal]

Wrote a little something for me mostly! I get to be indulgent because it's almost my birthday! As Vanya is my beloved, oblivious druid I've always hc that it was actually the whole gang who had to point out she was pregnant before she caught wind of it herself, so with Astarion at the end saying she was glowing and Shadowheart basically said she was fat, my little fanfic heart got excited!

Halsin x Female Tav (Vanya)

CW: Pregnancy, references to signs and symptoms of pregnancy, alcohol consumption

‘So,’ Shadowheart sauntered over to Astarion and leaned her head close to the man. ‘I’ve heard tell you were a little more subtle than I, you said Vanya was glowing!’

‘I did. Why, what did you say?’

‘I may have said she was a little more… solid.’

Astarion almost guffawed with laughter. ‘You called the woman fat! Shadowheart, where is your grace and decorum?’

Shadowheart rolled her eyes and took another sip of the wine from the goblet she was holding. They both watched Vanya excitedly chit chat with everyone, she was currently in animated discussion with Gale and Karlach. Not much had changed and Shadowheart let out a soft, contented sigh. It was nice to see everyone, even if she had rather put her foot in it. Though she was surprised Vanya hadn’t immediately told everyone the good news.

‘Wait…’ she said and Astarion quirked a brow. ‘You don’t think… Do you think she doesn’t know?’

‘She’s a druid, isn’t all natural life sacred and important? Surely, she would be able to tell immediately.’

‘Well… Vanya can be…’ Shadowheart gestured with the wine goblet.

‘Vanya can be Vanya,’ Astarion finished for her and she gave a rueful shrug and half nod. Granted, she was one of the heroes of Baldur's Gate and granted she was a powerful druid, but Vanya could also be blithely unaware at times. Sometimes he wondered how they managed to survive and why they had all seemingly chosen her as their leader, given she had a propensity for charging into situations without forethought and relied often on blind luck and relentless optimism! She had been exhausting at the best of times, but Astarion would be lying if he ever said he wasn’t fond of her.

‘Do you think Halsin knows?’ Shadowheart asked.

‘Oh, surely, he must do! That bear nose of his must be able to tell when she is… most fertile as it were, he must’ve noticed that her courses have stopped. Is Halsin just waiting for her to figure it out or is he just-?’

‘Waiting for who to figure out what?’ Halsin’s warm baritone rumbled behind them, they both jumped and then turned around, looking rather sheepish.

‘Uh… nothing!’ Shadowheart said quickly.

Astarion sighed, she’d been much better at lying when she followed Shar. ‘We were both just commenting on some changes we’ve noted in Vanya,’ he said, waiting to see if the elf would confirm their suspicions or question them further. Halsin’s eyes twinkled in merriment and he looked over their heads at Vanya, as she smiled and gave Karlach a very happy hug.

‘I have noticed changes in her, but I think she has dismissed them. She told me first of a stomach complaint and when I lay my hands there I knew what actually ailed her. She no longer likes the taste of fish - a shame to me, but one I can live with as long as I can still hunt for boar and deer with her - and yes, her scent changes with the waxing and waning of the moon, but she has only missed two courses. I am waiting for her to realise and to tell me the news,’ Halsin said.

‘Oh! Can’t you just tell her now, Karlach would be so thrilled and Gale too, Wyll as well I’m sure…?’ Shadowheart said.

‘Nay, she will realise it in due course and we will have another excuse to meet again and celebrate.’

‘Spoilsport!’ Astarion muttered, but gave Halsin a smile. ‘Congratulations to you both.’

‘Thank you,’ Halsin replied. ‘But don’t forget to look surprised when we tell you again, in a month’s time or so.’

‘Although,’ Shadowheart mused as Gale and Vanya made their way over to the feast laden table. ‘You may wish to say something, given that there are several bottles of plum fizz on the table and Vanya is partial to that.’

‘Ah…’ Halsin said, watching Vanya’s as she eagerly picked up one of the bottles and read the label. ‘A point well made, good evening to you both,’ and with that he quickly strode over to Vanya.

‘I have a feeling we might have a revelation by the end of the evening, if Halsin does tell her. Gods knows Vanya can’t keep something like that to herself!’ Astarion said and Shadowheart laughed softly. It was good to be amongst friends again.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Being Alice’s romantic partner 🤍 | Twilight Headcanon

Link to my Twilight Masterlist

This sorta has spoilers from Midnight Sun

Alice Cullen being your partner would look like:

She’s always styling you. Even if you prefer to dress a certain way Alice will still incorporate her own touch to it weather it be adding a certain jacket or pair of shoes. You two are by far the best dressed of the Cullens and have heads turning in school. “Darling, you know I’ve got the magic touch.”

Alice saw you coming without a doubt. The image of your face was the first thing she saw when she awoke after the transformation. Immediately Alice embarked on the journey to find you—which happened to be at a cafe in New York City of all places. You were startled and suspicious, but felt an overwhelming sensation course through you.

Something you two love to do, besides hunting together, is to dance. Whether this be in the comfort of your home or at club or even the middle of the street in front of random people, if there is music playing then there is dancing. You two will spin each other around, battle it out on who’s the best, or simply hold each other to sway along to the beat.

When the whole Volturi fiasco happened in Italy, you were pretty furious with your mate. Not once did she call you until she was far away enough to the point you couldn’t just jump on a plane to stop her. Eventually you forgave her, but there was still some anger towards Edward for being so reckless.

Having Bella in the picture was something you welcomed with open arms. You trusted Alice 100%, and if she said Bella would be part of the family then that was the final say. You understood where Rose was coming from, but that should not mean the human should die. “This is endangering our family!” “You’ll endanger us more, Rose. Are you forgetting her father is the literal chief of police?”

Although you two cannot sleep buy nature, that doesn’t mean you don’t like to cuddle. Being tiny, Alice is often the little spoon—but every now and then you to be the one held in her arms. She likes to run her fingers through your hair and remanence on the days before you two joined the Cullens.

Alice loves to kiss your cheek. You can’t help but get flustered every time because she will do it randomly. Even if you’re in the middle of talking. You love to take her hand and press your lips to her knuckles. It’s a soft way of telling her you love her and you know she would blush if she could.

Of the Cullens, you get along the best with Emmett. You both are like two peas in a pod and are always the first for an adventure. At first he almost fought you because he didn’t know who you were, but then after explaining he took on the roll of big brother. You two love to compete on who gets the most deer, elk, or bears. And when it comes to baseball, forget about it.

Having to travel to Brazil without telling the family was hard for you. Several times you questioned Alice if she was sure about what she was doing. “I promise, my love, this is for the best. They are safe if we keep them in the dark until the moment is right.” “I trust you, Alice, but hopefully they see it the same.”

After everything is all said and done with the Volturi, Alice leaps into your arms and kisses you full on the lips with absolute passion. “You did it, Alice! You did it” “We did it, my love!” Immediately you both are forgiven by the family—in which Esme threatens to disown you if you ever scare her like that again—with hugs all around.

And so you two went home to the little house in the woods of Forks, Washington. Family in tow with peace looming in the horizon, you and Alice continued to live the rest of your immortal lives blissfully in your small, but perfect piece of forever.

[pippytmi]

16 + 4 + 2 (werewolf supercorp?)

It is not uncommon for Kara to wake up in a puddle of blood.

At this point she is immune to the shock that comes with it, really. She has adapted; knows all the best tricks to get stains out of her clothes, knows all the best laundromats that don’t ask any questions. Heck, she even has Alex’s ex-girlfriend on speed dial, just in case there is a freak chance the blood Kara wakes up in might be human (it has not happened yet, knock on wood).

But there are other parts that still take some getting used to. Like, for example, the loss of memory that comes with every night of the full moon. Because yeah, she understands why she wakes up in a pool of blood. What she doesn’t understand is why this time around she wakes up in a pool of her own blood, and in so much pain that it hurts to open her eyes.

“Ow,” Kara whispers to herself, twisting onto her side with a groan. Her clothes are gone—no surprise—but even as she is laying down on the cold, rocky forest floor, the only thing she can focus on is how much her head hurts. She’s dealt with branch scratches, sore legs and arms, the occasional plethora of bug bites, but never a headache. Her one comfort is that at least she has made it into the backyard of Sam’s cabin. It takes a considerable amount of strength to push herself up off the ground; walking is going to be much harder than anticipated.

If Alex saw her now, she'd—well first she would hit Kara over the head and yell at her about being dumb, but afterwards she would snicker. And probably hit her over the head again for good measure.

“Oh my God—!”

Okay, it’s official. Kara is now dead. Even if the stranger gawking at her is not the one who kills her, Alex definitely will.

And it’s that thought that makes Kara drop right back down on the floor, knocking the wind right out of her lungs, and she groans into the dirt pitifully.

“Oh, fuck,” the stranger whispers, almost as if to herself, scrambling to come to Kara’s side. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. Fuck!” Said stranger belatedly claps a hand over her mouth, green eyes widening in horror. “Holy shit, are you alive?”

Kara pitifully rests her cheek against the ground and tries not to look too offended. “Uh, kind of,” she replies. (So this must not be Sam’s cabin, then.) “Sorry. Am I in your yard? It is a very nice yard. Five stars.”

“No, it’s not my—I’m house-sitting,” the woman explains, though she is giving Kara a look that says really? That’s what you want to focus on right now?

“Well, it’s still a nice place,” Kara says, because she is polite and small talk is always a good thing to fall back on when you’re naked on a pile of dead leaves. “Wait, I don’t suppose you’re house-sitting for Sam, are you? Sam Arias, super tall, has a daughter who is freakishly good at checkers?”

Stranger-who-swears-like-a-sailor frowns. “How do you know Sam?” she asks suspiciously.

“She dated my sister. It was a whole—it’s a thing,” Kara says. “You know?”

“Wait. Are you Kara? Are you Alex’s sister?”

“Yes! So you do know!” Kara would grin if her face were capable of any emotion besides mind-shattering pain. “Then you must be Sam’s friend…uh, bear with me…Lena? Or Jess?”

“Lena,” says the woman, still notably wary, so Kara makes the decision to wiggle until she can prop herself up her elbows and look less, well, like a corpse.

“Hey, got it in one!” Kara says as cheerfully as she can muster. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. And can I just—uh, say—that you don’t have to worry. I won’t die here or anything. I know you would obviously be the number one suspect for murder and it wouldn’t be nice of me to put you through that.”

“…right. Never mind that you would be dead, or anything.” Lena begins to shakily unbutton her coat like a woman possessed, as if her doubt has morphed entirely into concern now that she has confirmation the freak naked in Sam’s backyard is not an entire stranger. “Here, this is long enough to cover you. Do you—do you need help getting up?”

“No, no, I’ve got it, thank you,” Kara insists, and gradually, she manages; she shifts sideways and then tentatively onto her butt, and accepts the coat when it’s all but thrown at her face. There is blood mixed in with the leaves and general guck beneath her, and she winces at the sight. “I’ll come back and clean this later,” she’s quick to add, and Lena frowns in response.

“Are you serious? Forget cleaning, you need—stitches, at the very least. I can take you to the hospital if—”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that!” Kara blurts out, and with the adrenaline from that burst of energy she’s able to scramble to her feet. She is shaky, unsteady, but she manages to stay upright at least and she’ll count that as a win. “Shoot. I’m sorry for yelling. I just—no hospitals. I can’t do hospitals.” She has never had to form an excuse for this, and her mouth can’t quite wrap around the right words.

But Lena—green eyes wide and unsure, skin pale in the early morning light—nods, like she understands. “Okay,” she says. “No hospitals.”

“Thanks,” Kara mumbles, wrapping the coat tightly around herself. There are startling black spots in her vision and her head still feels like it was used as a piñata; she wonders what the heck her next move should be now. If Sam needs someone to house-sit, she must be out of the city. And if Sam is out of the city, Kara can’t exactly waltz into Sam’s house to wash all the blood off her body (and then call up Alex from the couch while stealing whatever ice cream Ruby picked). Sam lets her do that, sure, but that’s Sam. It would be pretty rude to do that when Lena is right here.

“Do you…” And Lena pauses, nose scrunching up as if something has just occurred to her. “I can give you a ride somewhere else, if you’d like. Back to your house?”

“No, that’s okay,” Kara hurries to decline, because how can she really explain that she lives in an apartment, and that if little old Mrs. Jensen saw her coming up covered in blood she’d finally succumb to her third heart attack? “Can I just use Sam’s phone to call my sister? Then I’ll come right back out here, I promise.”

“Why would you come back out here again?” Underneath her coat, Lena is wearing plaid pajama pants that are rolled at the ankle (Sam’s, most likely), and a tank top that is extremely fitted. Very, very well fitted. Like, you-can-tell-it’s-frigidly-cold-outside-kind-of-fitted.

Kara coughs and tries not to let on how her train of thought has twisted. “Because…I’m a stranger?” she tries. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Remember, if you die I’m going to be the first one they question,” Lena says, tilting her head expectantly in the direction of Sam’s cabin. “Come inside, warm up. Call your sister.” All things considered, she is far more concerned than Kara expected her to be—as if, somehow, ridding herself of the weirdo walking around bloody and probably concussed isn’t the very first thing on Lena’s mind.

So Kara doesn’t look a gift horse in the mouth; she accepts the offer. It’s a small comfort that if she really does get murdered by a total stranger, it won’t be while cold and naked.

Lena goes right into Sam’s room the instant they go inside, already gathering a million outfits for Kara to pick through. “The shower is fickle, but it does have hot water,” she says, adding a towel to the pile in Kara’s arms when she re-emerges. “You just have to—”

“Hit the wall twice, and give it a few seconds,” Kara finishes. “Yeah, Sam reminds me every time.”

“So you…visit Sam often, do you?”

“Uh.” And suddenly, despite the long, cold night she’s had, the air indoors feels a bit warmer than is comfortable. “Only sometimes.” Once a month, Kara thinks, and Lena crosses her arms and just stares.

Really stares, dragging those sharp green eyes up and down Kara’s whole body. Squints at the scratches on her face, scrunches her nose at the way Kara awkwardly shifts from side to side. Finally Lena speaks, and it’s only to say, “It’s you, isn’t it?”

“...come again?”

“It’s you. Sam told me she’s been helping out a friend with a—furry predicament—”

If it were possible to choke on air, Kara would be dead right now. “Did she really call it furry? But she’s also—!” She has to pause, now, because she feels an urge to clarify, “Wait. Are we talking about the same thing right now?”

Lena narrows her eyes slightly. “You mean talking about how you’re a werewolf?”

“Oh!” Head lighter, Kara sucks in a laugh that makes her ribs feel like they are splintering open. “Then yes. That’s good, I didn’t want you to think I was a—anyway. I didn’t think Sam told anyone.”

“Sam and I have been friends for a long time,” Lena says slowly. A beat. “She actually ate my hamster once.”

Kara winces. “Recently?”

“No! Back in the fifth grade,” Lena frowns, like she might’ve added dumbass at the end of the sentence. “I’m a grown woman. I don’t own hamsters.”

“What? Come on, having pets isn’t just a kid thing,” Kara says. “I used to have a cat, but he…”

“Oh my God, you ate him?”

Kara’s jaw drops. “What—no! He turned out to already have an owner, so she took him back. He just liked to wander into my apartment.” She hugs the clothing pile tighter to her chest, and tries her hardest to scowl. “I’m responsible, okay? Most of the time. I’m not dangerous.”

“Except to deer, or rabbits, or whatever else you killed last night?” Lena quirks an eyebrow, but surprisingly not in a manner that’s judge-y. Just…curious.

“Right,” Kara says defeatedly, and her head throbs enough that her grip on Sam’s clothes begins to falter. “Sorry. I wasn't trying to be defensive or anything.”

“That's alright.” And stranger still, Lena reaches out to gently touch the side of Kara’s head. “So does the same thing happen to you?”

“Huh?” The proximity has scrambled Kara’s brain momentarily, and she finds herself unthinkingly holding her breath.

“Do you also black out,” Lena clarifies. “Like Sam does, every time she shifts.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s—a universal wolf thing,” Kara says.

Lena hums, and her hand retracts. “And are you a serial killer in wolf form?”

“Uh, I hope not? I’m pretty sure all this is…” Kara gestures over her body with one hand, still hugging the pile of clothes with the other. “Not human.”

“Okay.” Lena casually walks away, but pauses to throw over her shoulder, “I’ll help you clean up your head once you’re out of the shower. I’ve helped Sam a hundred times.”

“Are you—do you have some kind of healing magic, or—”

“Close. I’m an ER nurse,” Lena says amusedly, and when she smiles a dimple emerges on one cheek. “All the witches I know have fled the city, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“You joke, but Alex dated this witch once, and she hexed my sister to spill her first sip of coffee every time she went to take a drink for three weeks straight after they broke up,” Kara says, and Lena again scrunches her nose in that quizzical way.

“Seriously? Witches are real too?”

“Duh,” Kara says lightly. “What, you thought it stopped at werewolves? Please. I’m pretty sure the neighbor two doors down is a gorgon.”

“Well, it would explain her fondness of statues,” Lena says, strangely nonplussed. “I’ve never asked, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at this point. How do you take your coffee?” As she asks, Lena deposits a few fingers of whiskey into a mug, and at Kara’s questioning look says, “Sorry, we’re all out of painkillers. This is as good as you’re going to get.”

“Maybe I’ll do better if it’s straight,” Kara says, unable to hide her grimace, while Lena shrugs a shoulder as if to say it’s your funeral.

So after Kara showers, she sits on the couch and sips gross whiskey out of a chipped mug that reads World’s Best Mom in bright pink letters. Lena has turned on the TV to the local news station—clearly she has stayed with Sam before—and a man on screen is recounting a tale of how he hit a giant wolf strolling too close to his farm with a baseball bat.

“If I had my shotgun I would’ve killed the fucker,” he swears, red in the face, and above her Lena gives a little scoff.

“What a dick,” Lena says, her hand steadily stitching up the wound on Kara’s scalp, and her voice has a hint of an accent; it’s really cute, actually, and Kara doesn’t even mind that the next poke of the needle is sharper than the others.

It is the strangest morning Kara has ever had. Drinking whiskey before eight in the morning, with a kind stranger who she’s barely met but is suturing her skin together, who smells faintly of lavender soap and strong black coffee.

“—National City is not safe when wolves are wandering close to homes—”

The scent of rich hot chocolate bubbling on the stove is beginning to fill the room, the ancient pipes are rumbling throughout the walls, and Lena’s fingers are soft against her head. Kara closes her eyes and decides that she will wait a little longer before she calls Alex to pick her up.

[shurisneakers]

harmless (ix)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, sex jokes, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: a lot of requests came in last week, so cool and thank you for sending them in!! i’ll try my best to write them if they weren’t originally what i had planned for this series bc they’re so cute kfjdghdf. also hey shoutout to @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ for suggesting the backstory thing! 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Additional Scene   || Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

Hot single in your area! 😈  Find your solemate! 

Somehow it bypasses Bucky’s spam folder and is in his primary email. SHIELD tech is too advanced to let fake mails like this reach him and this doesn’t make sense. Unless it was one of the stupid dating websites he signed up for.

Leaving aside the obvious typo in the subject, he clicks on it, hoping it doesn’t unleash a virus onto his computer. 

He’s instead greeted with a poorly Photoshopped picture of you at a bar with a martini in your hand. He doesn’t have to look too hard to see that the martini is, in fact, an emoji. Off to a terrible start already. 

Right beside it is an even worse image, an imitation of an early Internet chat box.

Harbinger of Doom just sent you a message! 

Come to the empty lot near lair. Bring goggles. 😩💦

Decline/Accept

He wants to strangle you. 

______

“Why did you curse my eyes so early in the morning?” He spots you at the top of the lair, speaking loudly so that it hopefully reached you. 

“What?” you yell back down instead. “If you’re saying something, I can’t hear you.”

He rolls his eyes. He pulls his phone from his pocket and presses on your contact. 

He watches the look of confusion morph into one of slight surprise when you reach into your pocket and pull out your call.

“Don’t ever send an image like that to me again,” he says directly.

“If that one image is too much for you, how will we ever make our sex tape?”

His mouth opens and shuts like goddamn fish.

He can hear your laughter even without the phone.

“First of all- stop laughing- first of all, a sex tape is never going to happen. Second of all, I have a debriefing to go to, we need to make this quick.”

He holds up a finger when he sees you begin to say something. By the look of trouble painted all over your face, he knows it’s going to be a dumb innuendo. 

“Thirdly, why are you standing there?”

“I watched The Last Airbender,” you say once your cackling dies down.

“I like that show.” He did. Peter sometimes watched it when he came over and Bucky more often than not joined in.

“I know, you told me.”

Oh. 

“Okay, what now?” 

“Put your goggles on.” You take one step towards the ledge. 

“What are you doing?” The goggles don’t do anything to shield him from the sun, considering that they’re not tinted. Maybe he could invest in those.

You send him a smile, taking a step further. His walk towards the building turns into a jog, then a sprint when you’re basically standing on the edge.

You spread your arms out like Jesus Christ himself before flinging yourself off the building. His stomach drops.

His phone falls to the ground, discarded to the side as he sprints to break your landing. 

It never comes. 

Instead, a gust of wind smacks him in the face, forcing him a few steps backwards. 

“I am now an air bender.” your eyes shone. “Kind of.”

Just like that, the show was ruined.

He wipes the dust on from his glasses that he now understands why you made him wear. Considerate, for a person who nearly just gave him a heart attack. 

“Why.” It’s not even a question, just a statement. 

“You know how the Tower has a giant ‘A’ on the side?” 

He stares at you. 

“I‘m gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of it.”

Pepper would not like that. 

“That’s not even evil.”

“Yeah, but it’d annoy your super friends,” You do a flip midair, testing out the repulsors that were tied around your palms, “and I’m the voice of the people.”

You’re too high for him to reach. He doesn’t have his tools, or anything useful on him considering that he never had to use them before. He couldn’t even launch himself at you from the side of the building because you’d just move out of the way. He could jump really high but it would just have the same consequence.

He could talk and keep you distracted but that worked once, it wouldn’t again. At least not for long. 

Fuck, he really had only one option. 

He leaves you to do your somersaults and turns, walking over to where he dropped his phone. It’s an upgrade from the brick he was using a while ago, but not a high end Stark model. A smartphone, but barely.

He sighs, punching in the number and holding it up to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” you yell from above him. 

“Go back to your shitty aerobics,” he yells back.

You pause for a second. “Was that a fucking pun, James Bar-”

The dial tone ends when someone picks up. He diverts his attention back to the call.

“Hey man, I-

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“It’s probably something stupid,” Sam doesn’t even sound annoyed, just uninterested.

“I need your wings.”

“I was right. Bye.”

It was a long shot anyway.

“Fuckin’ hold on a second.” He sees you disintegrate a concrete block by having it drop from the air. “You come here and fix this, then. She’s air bending now.”

“...like Avatar?” Sam unsurprisingly got the reference. 

Peter’s interests were usually shared by everyone in the Tower, just because they had to compensate for the teasing he had to endure. It led to a lot of geeky documentaries and occasional musicals. Bucky wouldn’t be caught dead humming songs from Thoroughly Modern Millie under his breath. 

“Yeah.”

“You want me to come and fight your girlfriend,” he says slowly. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bucky urges, “and yes, I need help. Can’t exactly reach her when she’s twenty feet above me.”

“We have a briefing in 30 minutes. Why did you even go there today?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Just looks up at you smacking one of the repulsors against your thigh when it sputters for a second. It’s tradition. 

“Well?” Bucky ignores his question.

“Fine,” Sam’s voice is distant for a second as he agrees. “Clint’s asking if he can come too.”

“Fuck no.” One of them was more than enough and Sam was way better at negotiation. 

He hears a faint profanity from who he assumed was Clint before the call cuts.

He takes a seat on the ground and waits.

“You’re not going to make any effort to stop me?” You have your arms pressed to your side, palms pointed downwards to keep you afloat.

 “I could just throw things at you again.” He makes a mention towards the small pebbles.

“I will fuck you up if you even try,” you warn. He lifts his arms in surrender. “So that’s it. You’re just going to sit there.”

“To be honest, I couldn’t care less if you painted the building,” he says with the least amount of interest he could muster, not that that was very hard.

“Do you not like your team?” 

“I do.” He isn’t lying. “But they’re little shits.”

“I can draw a couple of dicks on their window, no problem,” you say offhandedly.

He looks up at you through his fingers. “That won’t be required.”

Although it was appreciated. 

“Cool, so then I’m gonna go.” You make a mention of the utility belt on your waist. He looks at the many spray cans that decorate it. 

“What colour are you going with?” he interrupts quickly. Fuckin’ Sam. What was the point of wings if he couldn’t get here in 2 minutes?

“Red, probably.” You look down. “I got purple and white just in case.”

“Building’s dark, red is good.”

“You really don’t care, do you?” You lower yourself down to the ground, a few feet ahead of him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” For fucks’ sake, Sam. “You really don’t like superheroes, do you?”

“I don’t have anything against them.”

“Then why do you do this every week?”

This was wading into personal territory and he did not like it. 

“Well.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Because I want to. It’s fun.”

“No other reason?”

“Do I need to have another reason?” You push your palm downwards, sending you back up into the air. “Can’t I just be evil because I want to?”

“Sure,” he says. He’s heard worse reasons. “Why not?”

“Besides, if you think I don’t like superheroes then you should meet Jake.”

“Who’s Jake?” He hadn’t ever heard you mention him before because he’d remember if you had.

“My roommate.” 

“I didn’t see him when I came over.”

“That’s because we’re not conjoined at the hip.” It takes you a second to stabilise. “Besides, he grabbed the water while I got the bracelet but he refused to come say hi.”

Bucky looked down at his wrist. It was still there. He found himself fidgeting with it more often than not.

“He hates superheroes?”

“He has a valid reason.” Your eyes widen in worry when your head suddenly dips. 

“What is it?” He knows the height at which you’re at isn’t very dangerous but if need be, he’s close by. 

“Come find out.” Your eyes shone mischievously. “But yeah, no reason for me to be evil.”

“Not even a tragic backstory?” 

“None. But if you want it, I can give you one, Barnes.” You test the waters, seeing how long you can lie horizontally. “Can’t promise you’ll like it though.”

“Try me.” He has time to kill. He’s a good listener.

“Well, it all started with my family- a troop of gorillas.” You flip over to lie on your back. “They practically raised me, they did. Until my gorilla mother died and I was all but consumed by grief and-”

“Your mother was a gorilla?” He entertains the notion. 

“Or was it my father?” you ask thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I don’t remember. Anyway, I met a-”

“Just to clarify, none of this is real, right?” he interjects. 

You stare at him. He stares at you.

“Bucky, that’s the plot of Tarzan,” you say slowly, “or at least whatever I remember of it... which I’m beginning to realise isn’t much.”

“Just clarifying.” He leans back again.

“Anyway so then when my mother, the deer-”

“Gorilla.”

“Whatever. Was killed, I escaped to some place-”

“Where?”

“Somewhere. And I stayed with these seven men-”

“Why seven?” He actually remembers watching this movie with his sister when it came out. An early memory, a bit faded. He remembers how long he saved up for the ticket.

“Because character development. And then I realised the reason my life was so weird was because there was a rat controlling me by pulling on my hair-”

“What the fuc-”

“If you ask any more questions, I’m going to stop.”

Bucky blinks at you. “So that’s your backstory.” 

“Raw and uncut, baby.”

“Just to get this straight, your mother, the gorilla deer-”

“Witch.”

“Huh?”

“She was a witch who stole my hair.”

“Wha-”

He’s interrupted by the giant shadow cast by something that flies overhead. 

Fucking finally. 

He doesn’t even have to look up. Sam does a small glide to the ground, landing gracefully beside him.

Bucky finds you speechless but straightened up from your earlier posture.

“Buck,” Sam greets him.

“Sam,” he says in return, getting up from his place. 

A grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Sam Wilson. No way.”

“You’re Y/N, I’m assuming?” Sam offers, posture relaxed. He clearly wasn’t here to fight. 

“The one and only.” You tear your eyes away from Sam to glare at Bucky. “Barnes, if you had told me we were expecting guests, I would have dressed better.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows in suspicion at you. You’d dress up for Sam. 

You dressed up like a suburban tourist dad for him. He was feeling the offence incoming. 

“Can’t count on him to be useful in any situation.” Alright, he did not call Sam just to have the both of you team up against him. 

“Normally I’d agree with you but he did just invite you here, so...” you trail off, looking at Sam expectantly. 

What the shit.

Sam smirks. Bucky switches rapidly back and forth between the both of you.

“I see why Buck keeps coming back every week.” It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, enlisting a feeling of triumph from you. 

“I can’t see why he doesn’t just stay at home everyday if this is the view.” You gesture to him.

This is not what Bucky wanted.

“Okay,” Bucky interrupts, “what is going on here?”

“Pure chemistry, I’d say.” You’re half tempted to bite your lip to seal the deal.

“I agree.” Sam just nods, completely and utterly serious. 

You think that you’ll give him a gift basket just for playing along despite meeting you for the first time at that moment. 

“Get a room.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Maybe we will.” You tap your finger against your lip in thought. “How do you feel about Indian food, Sam?”

“Very positively.” 

Bucky grits his teeth. “If you’re not planning to spray paint the Tower, can you just hand over the repulsers so we can go home for the day?”

You let out a small tsk in disapproval. “See what I have to deal with?”

“Can’t imagine how you do it every weekend,” Sam says dryly, not wasting a second in replying. 

“Hello?” Bucky waves his arm around. “She’s the villain here.”

“Your face is the villain here.” You tear your eyes away from Sam only to glare at him. “He won’t even wear a cape. Why am I the only one who brings their A-Game every week?”

“Sam just get the damn-”

“You should wear a cape, man.” Bucky’s absolutely sure that even Sam knows it’s a ridiculous idea.

“I’m not wearing a fuckin’ cape,” he grumbles. 

“What are your thoughts on swords, then?” Your finger finds a place under your chin in deep contemplation. “You’d look great with a sword.”

Bucky buries his face in his palms. “Sam, for the love of God.” 

“Okay, alright.” Sam finally gives in with a small chuckle. He runs a few steps to get a small head start before launching himself into the air, whizzing past your levitating figure. He does a neat little flip midair before matching your height.

Showoff.

“How difficult are you gonna make this, Wilson?” you ask, a smirk on your face.

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky exhales, looking at the both of you through his goggles. 

“What’s your play here?” Sam calls out loudly.

“Was gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of the Tower.”

“After the ‘A’?”

“After the ‘A’,” you confirm. 

“Now that’s too small,” Sam tutted. “You gotta think bigger. Paint the whole Tower.” 

“Sam!” Bucky looks horrified. 

“Hmm.” You look like you’re considering it. “Don’t have enough paint for that though.”

“You’re an evil genius, right?” Sam casts a small glance at Bucky. “At least that’s what he tells me.”

“You talk about me?” You grin at the disgruntled man on the ground. 

“I don’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. A lie.

“Yeah, so build something,” Sam points out. “Get some more paint. I’ll even tell you the best vantage points to spill it.”

“No, he won’t,” Bucky shouts from below. 

“He’s just cranky because he didn’t get his prune juice this morning, ignore him,” Sam dismisses him.

Prune juice? He was a young 100, not ancient. 

“What’s your favourite colour, Falcon?”

“I like red.”

As annoyed as Bucky is right now, he stores that away in his memory for later. He also knows Sam loves seafood and a good pair of shoes. 

“A couple of gallons of red paint it is, then.” You lower yourself to the ground, Sam slowly follows suit until he lands beside Bucky.

“You know we can’t let you go without taking those, right?” Bucky tilts his head towards your invention.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t budge.

“I’ll tell ya what,” Sam pipes in instead. “I’ll keep them until you finish getting the paint and once you’re done, we’ll make an evening out of vandalising the Tower.” 

Bucky may not enjoy his company all that much but he admires Sam’s diplomacy. Of course, you would never make it this easy while reasoning with him.

“That a promise, Mr. Wilson?” You raise your eyebrow at him questioningly but are already in the process of removing the things from your hand. 

“Wouldn’t ever lie to you, doll.” He holds up his hand in a mock swear.

You walk towards Bucky and him, rotating your wrists to get rid of the soreness. “Bold claim for a man who met me ten minutes ago.”

“Feels like it’s been longer.” He sends you a wink and you can’t stop the laugh the escapes from you finally. 

Bucky holds his hand out for the gadgets. You shrink away from him with a click of your tongue.

“Technically, he takes this round.” You send a nod towards Sam, dropping off the repulsors into his hand. “So he gets it.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“You gonna keep ‘em safe?” you ask Sam, this time a little more earnestly. 

“Guard it with my life,” he says seriously, pressing his lips together in a line to avoid smiling. 

“You’re both ridiculous,” Bucky cuts in.

“You’re going to be late.” Sam tucks the devices into his pocket safely. “You know how Steve gets when people walk in on his speeches. Do you even have a ride?”

“Got the motorcycle.” 

“See you there.” Sam nods. 

“Save me a place,” Bucky says to him.

“No.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Y/N. It was a pleasure.”

“Still holding you to that evening, Sam.” You send him a smile.

“I’m countin’ on it.” He gives you a small three finger salute before taking off, leaving you staring after his retracting figure. 

When the dust settles, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat. “Right. So that was that.”

“Dude,” you let out an exhale. “he’s so hot.”

He murmurs something unintelligible. It vaguely sounds like a series of threats but mostly a list of complaints.

“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” You turn your attention back to him.

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you going to be late?” You glance at the clock on your phone.

“I’ll just tell them I was on a mission.” Well, sort of. “Besides, what are they gonna do? Kick me out?”

“Fair enough.” You shrug. “Have a safe ride back.”

From what he knows of you and Sam, the both of you were kidding around. But he could never be too sure. He can’t even ask if you were serious about the entire thing because it’s none of his business. 

Were the implications of having his mortal nemesis and other mortal nemesis date important enough to overrule that? 

“Are you planning to skip your meeting, or?” you ask when he remains freezes in his spot, eyes glazed over like he’s thinking about something. “Because if you are, I know this great Thai place-”

“Don’t do that again,” he says instead, shaking his head to jolt him out of his thoughts. 

“What?”

“Flinging yourself off roofs like that.”

“Why?” Because it scared the hell out of him, for one.

“Just don’t.”

“Oh please, like you’ve never done dangerous shit like that before.” You narrow your eyes at him, reading his face. “Are you telling me you care about me?”

“No.” His nose twitches. “Just don’t throw yourself off buildings when I’m around.”

“What about when you’re not?”

“As long as I’m not there to witness it.” He shrugs, spinning on his heel to leave. Technically he preferred if you didn’t do things like that at all. 

“Fine. I’ll just have my clone try out all the dangerous stuff for me.”

 He stops in his tracks. “You have a clone?”

“Well,” You squint, “no. But I’m working on it.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Bye Y/N.”

“You know, it sounds an awful lot like you’re saying we’re friends.” Your whole demeanour changes and he already knows what’s coming.

“I never said that,” he argues vehemently. “All I said was that I can’t have your murder on my hands.”

“Thus implying that we’re friends. In a fucked up, enemies kind of way.” You positively beam at him. “Aw, Barnes, that’s adorable.”

Adorable? Adorable?

“I hate you.”

“I love you, too, bestie,” you gush, dumb grin on your face. “I’ll make us friendship rings next time. What are your thoughts on matching tattoos?”

He wants to cry. 

______

By the time Sam walks into the meeting room, the session’s already begun. He shoots an apologetic look to a monologuing Steve before taking his place at the nearest chair available. 

Something sharp pokes his thigh. His wings are off and in the backpack beside him, but then he remembers your little inventions that were still in his pocket.

He tries not to make much of a noise while he pulls them out, giving them a look over to make sure they’re not broken.

“Watcha got there, Big Bird?” Tony asks lowly from beside him.

“Something that Barnes’ enemy made.” Sam holds it up slightly. 

“The one he’s been rendezvousing around town with every weekend?” 

“That’s her.” He’s about to put it in his backpack when Tony stops him.

“Pass that here for a second.” He recognises it immediately for what it is, interest piqued. 

Sam hands one of them over while he puts the other back in the bag. It’s a metallic circle, not bigger than Tony’s palm, with a thick leather strap to tie it around your palm.

“She made this?” 

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sam mentions towards Bucky who silently slips into the conference room, standing in the corner near the potted plant since there were no more chairs left.

“The balance has gotta be off on this thing,” he mutters to himself, wholly ignoring the brooding man standing in the corner like a Christmas tree.

“She seemed to be manoeuvring it fine,” Sam catches the eye of a lower ranking agent who makes the mistake of glaring at him for talking while the meeting was going on. A few seconds later the agent hastily looks away and doesn’t turn around for the rest of the hour. 

“Could be better.” He uses a much more intricate model for his suits, although this isn’t even half-bad for a homemade version. “Do you know how long she took to make this?”

“Buck says she comes up with a new one every week, so I’m guessing that long.” 

It had a few glitches but it was incredibly refined for a week’s worth of work.

“Interesting.” He gives it a quick overlook before handing it back to Sam who drops it into the bag.

He casts a swift glance at Bucky, noting how he wasn’t even paying attention to the meeting but rather to whatever he had tied around his metal wrist, fidgeting with it with his thumb. 

Tony has an idea. 

And that was generally bad news.

Next part

[cherryyharryy]

please write something about Harry overhearing the reader’s friend tell her that Harry doesn’t spend time with her that she deserves someone better they hang up b4 the reader can say anything like angst to fluff

Thank you for requesting!

This is 80's harry lol

WC: 2.4K

Harry pauses the music on his Walkman, slipping the headphones off his ears to rest around his neck while he fiddles with the key to his apartment.

She had spent the night—his angel. It had been quite the set up, since she still lives at home with her parents while finishing college, a little white lie was passed around to cover her absence. Harry wasn’t a secret by any means, but her parents weren’t the most open minded, and a small fib was easier to handle than trying to rehash the same discussion of y/n being a grown woman. It was hard enough for her to get their approval for college...one mountain at a time.

Harry’s ears burn as he sets the groceries down in the kitchen, the thought of her still tangled up in his sheets beckoning him back to his room, is enough to drive him wild. He doesn’t catch himself zoning out until the phone rings. He untangles his music off his shoulders and yanks the phone off the wall, but y/n has beat him to it, her soft morning voice greeting Caroline before Harry can utter a word.

His brain is too slow in making the connection that he should hang up. That he shouldn’t eavesdrop on his girlfriend’s private conversation. That he owes her the respect that her parents never give her. But he hears his name, specifically, he hears Caroline ask y/n how last night was, so the phone stays glued to his ear.

“Amazing,” she purrs, and Harry’s stomach flips. “We did it like, three times.”

The girls giggle, and Harry shuffles on his feet with a veiny blush spreading all over his body. He can imagine y/n draped in his sheets, phone cord wrapped around her fingers, just a few steps away from him

“Better be nothing short of amazing,” Caroline says, “with what little time he gives you anyway. Ugh, if Tony ever left me hanging as often as Harry, I’d dump him so fast.” She smacks her gum into the phone and Harry flinches. “He tried to ditch me one time to go see Scarface with Rob, and I was like, hell no, you’re taking me skating like you promised. Honestly y/n, you can do better. You’re surrounded by college boys, go find a future doctor.”

The phone almost slips from Harry’s hand, but he catches it and hangs it back on the wall, just in time for his entire world to start crumbling to his feet.

Did he really not spend enough time with y/n?

How long has this been a topic shared between them?

And why hasn’t she said anything before?

Harry stands in the middle of his kitchen, immobilized. He can’t lose her, especially not to something he can fix. She’s been his girl since they were sixteen, there’s too much history between them, or so he thought.

He files through the memories he has of them together, trying to quantify them, trying to see where he started slipping.

Maybe it’s when he took over his dad’s business? But she knew how demanding it would be, and always supported him. Or maybe it’s because they don’t go out as much? Between him managing an appliance store, and her working towards a bachelors, they often opt for nights on the couch watching SNL reruns.

His mind is foggy, and he doesn’t catch his bedroom door creaking open.

“H?”

Harry startles back to present, gripping the counter as y/n emerges from his room wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

“You okay? Look like a deer caught in headlights.”

“Mm, no, fine.”

“I heard you come in a bit ago.” She flicks her eyes over his kitchen, looking for the breakfast he had promised to make almost an hour ago.

“Didn’t want to be too loud.”

“Oh, alright.” She smiles, attempting to diffuse whatever awkward tension has settled in his home. “Well, cook away! I can help too.”

He grabs her wrist before she reaches the fridge. “No, I’ll make it for you. Go back to bed.”

“You sure?”

He nods, forcing a smile.

She peers back over her shoulder twice on her walk back to his room, hoping to figure out what’s going on, but learns nothing.

As soon as his door shuts, Harry flies around his kitchen, grabbing what he needs to make the fastest breakfast in the world.

He’s going to spend every free second he has with her, and doesn’t want to waste any if he doesn’t have to.

***

Harry knows he’s borderline annoying. And he knows his actions are beginning to appear creepy, if not bizarre. He tags along with y/n everywhere she goes now, even at the doctor where he almost followed her back to her exam. She gently placed her hands on his chest and told him that she would rather the doctor do the job, promising she’d be out in no time.

She’s been tiptoeing around him too, not sure what to make of his new routine of gluing himself to her side, hoping it will wear off and things will go back to normal.

But she waits and she waits, and normal never resurfaces.

“H, baby, I can’t concentrate with you so close to me.”

Harry looks offended, slipping his reading glasses off his nose and closing the book he was halfway through, giving her his full attention when he asks what she means.

Y/n peers around the library, not wanting to have this discussion so publicly, but too keyed up to wait any longer. “I’ve just noticed that you’ve...been a little clingy lately? More like a lot.”

“I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

“You’re picking me up, and walking me to my classes—”

“Thought that was nice?”

“You don’t even go to this school. Listen, the sentiment is nice, but I’m starting to feel a little suffocated.”

Harry bites his cheek so hard he draws blood. “And what did Caroline have to say about that?”

“What?”

“I’m sure that nosy friend of yours had a lot to say about me when you brought this up.”

“Excuse me!”

“Quiet, please,” one of the staff members shushes y/n, “Or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Y/n ignores the snickers from a table of girls nearby, recoiling her embarrassment and turning it to anger. Her voice, although lowered, now drags out of her mouth in sharp tones. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I heard everything, that morning Caroline called my phone to talk to you about how crummy of a boyfriend I am.”

That morning, now a month ago, is hardly a memory in y/n’s head. She fights around for details of the conversation, but comes up empty handed. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, and frankly, I don’t care.” She starts closing all her books and gathering her school work to shove into her bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

Harry blinks, fumbling for his next question as y/n hurries across the library. He’s quick to catch up with her, waiting until they’re outside where they don’t have to whisper. “Don’t walk, I have my car.”

He reaches for her shoulder but she shrugs it off. “I’m going home. My home, not yours.”

Harry freezes on the sidewalk. She continues on her way until she disappears around the building. A few students yell out at Harry, making fun of the guy who, from a distance, just got rejected. He flips them off and heads to his car, beating the steering wheel all the way back to his apartment.

***

“You’ve been studying an awful lot lately,” y/n’s dad comments from across the dinner table. “Do you have a big test coming up?”

“Hm?”

“You spend the night with Rayna almost every weekend.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. We have a lot of tests.” Y/n spoons a bite of mashed potatoes into her mouth, thankful neither of her parents went to college. It’s allowed for more stretched lies when she sleeps over at Harry’s. “Like a lot. Every week.”

Her mother hums from her seat, nodding to save her spot in the conversation while she finishes chewing. “We told you how hard it would be. But you wouldn’t listen.”

“That’s not—” “Shelly’s daughter just got a job as a receptionist, over at that dental office by the mattress store.” Her dad points at y/n with his fork. “You could ask her if she knows of any other places looking for a girl.”

“I’m not going to have a job where the requirement is girl.”

“You’re taking this too liberally, dear. Oh Lord, John, that school did just what you said.”

“No—”

“That’s what happens, girls go off to try and get a degree...and what for? What are you going to do when you get married and have kids?”

“Kids!?”

Her mom scoffs. “Well you’re not going to be able to raise children and work.”

“Are you two serious right now? It’s 1985, not fifty-five! Women go to college, they work, some of them don’t even get married! Or have kids!”

“When you were little you couldn’t wait to be a mom. Now all of a sudden you’ve changed your mind. That never would have happened if we hadn’t let you go off to that damn school.”

“Yes I’ve changed my mind! If it hadn’t been for that school, I never would have realized that it’s my own mind to change. It’s my own life to do whatever I want with, not yours.”

“Well I am—” Her dad is interrupted by the door bell echoing outside the kitchen. “One minute. We’re not done with this yet.”

Muffled voices stagger from the front door while y/n pushes the food around her plate. She hopes that whoever is at the door keeps her dad busy for a while. She knows her mom won’t have these types of conversations without him, which just showcases the lifestyle she is adamantly trying to avoid. One that was passed down to her parents, but y/n is determined to squeeze herself out of that narrative no matter what.

“Y/n!” her dad calls, “you have a visitor.”

Y/n peers up at her mom, both women exchanging confused glances before they go see who had arrived.

“Oh,” y/n says dully, “It’s you.”

Harry stands with his hands shoved into jacket pockets, peering at each family member before speaking. “Hey, uh, I was hoping we could talk. Privately.”

Y/n nods, and leads the way back through the kitchen to the back porch. She’s not really in the mood to be talking to him, or having this conversation, but right now he’s a free ticket away from her parents, so she accepts.

They sit halfway down the steps, just like they’ve done a thousand times before. Her on the right, him on the left. Usually his arm is thrown over her shoulder, and their knees bump together until Harry pulls her in so close that not even a breeze could fit between them, but now they’re both collected on their respective sides of the wooden step.

“Heard the new Prince song?”

Y/n rolls her eyes. “It’s been a week.”

“Exactly, a lot’s happened in a week. Prince came out with a new song, Michael Jordan’s rookie of the year, and there’s gonna be a Rocky four.”

“Did you come over to talk about everyone else’s good news?”

Harry sighs. “We’ve never gone a week without talking. Ever.”

“Well you really hurt my feelings.” She turns to look at him, tears welling up in her eyes. “I mean, you don’t even trust me, so you listen in on my phone calls—”

“That’s not—no. I picked up when you did.”

“But you still listened.”

“Okay yeah, but only because I heard my name.” He shrugs, a timid smile playing on his lips. “Wanted to hear what you thought about me.”

“I tell you what I think all the time. I’ve never kept my feelings secret from you.”

“It’s different.” He pulls his hands from his pockets and runs them through his hair, tugging on fistfuls of curls out of frustration. “But then when Caroline said all that, ‘bout me not spending enough time with you, it killed me.”

“That’s what this is about,” she sighs, more to herself than to Harry as the memory of that morning resurfaces in her mind. “You dork, what about what I said back?”

“I hung up. Didn’t wanna hear anything else after that.”

“I told her how wrong she was. How we spend lots of time together.”

“You did?”

“Mhm. She’s always bragging about her and Tony, like they’re the first two people to date ever. I totally rubbed our relationship in her face.”

Harry’s surprised by the gleam on his girlfriend’s face, and tries not to laugh. “What else did you tell her?”

“I dunno.” She shrugs, suddenly shy. “Can’t remember.”

“How convenient.” He nudges her knee with his, and she bumps him back.

Y/n exhales, dipping her head back to squint at the stars peeking out from a cloudy night. “My parents are driving me crazy.”

“They always drive you crazy.”

“Yeah but, more than usual. I got spoiled staying with you on the weekends.”

Harry hums, reaching his arm over to pull her into his side. “Maybe it shouldn’t just be weekends…”

“They would know something’s up if I stayed over on weeknights.”

“No, baby, I mean permanently.”

“Like moving in together?”

“Why not?”

She chews on her lip, trying to keep her smile hidden. “I don’t know...that’s a big deal. It’s a big step.”

“We can think about it. No rush.”

“It would be nice. To see each other whenever we wanted.”

Harry tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Wouldn’t have to ask your parents permission for anything.”

“Yeah…”

“Just me.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, angel.” He kisses her forehead and takes her hand, helping her up.

Y/n’s parents are in the living room when the two are back in the house, and just the thought of continuing her evening here lights a fire under y/n.

“I’m going over to Harry’s,” she announces.

Harry drops her hand, just as surprised as her parents.

“Excuse me?” Her father turns the t.v. off and straightens in his chair. “I don’t think so.”

“Well I think so,” y/n defends. “Come on, Harry.” She takes his hand and tugs him towards the door.

“Harry!” Her mother protests.

He looks over his shoulder just as he’s being led out the door. “Oh, you can call me Rayna.”

[engie-ivy]

If searching for non-existent signs that Sirius might fancy him, is all Remus has to do to get Lily to drop her crazy theory, then so be it.

Read Part One here!

Read Part Three here!

Read The Final Part here!

Get What He's Saying: Part Two

Remus drops down on the couch next to Lily holding a cup of tea.

“Potter just left for Quidditch practice in quite a state,” Lily says. “Was he still mad about me going to Hogsmeade with Chase Danes?”

“Hmm? Oh, no. I think he’s over it. He’s actually going with Hestia Jones.”

“Oh.” Lily presses her lips in a tight line. “Well, good for him. What was he getting himself worked up for now, then?”

“I guess that’s my fault,” Remus sighs. “We had this weird conversation, and I think he got upset because I didn’t believe the stuff he was telling me.”

“What did he say?”

“Oh, he was all like ‘Moony, someone told me he fancies you, and it’s serious and you should-’”

Lily lets out a shriek and bolts upright, staring at Remus with a hand covering her mouth. “Merlin’s beard, Remus! Why didn’t you say so immediately? This is huge! Potter confided in you that Black fancies you? I knew it! I just knew it! How can you be so calm about this?”

Remus blinks at her for a moment. “What? Oh. Oh! No, Lily, no. Merlin, no. Why would you even think- Serious, Lily! As in not joking.”

“Oooh.” Lily sags back on the couch. For a moment, she looks disappointed, but then she starts laughing. “I’m sorry! I totally thought you meant it was Sirius! Really, that boy’s name!”

Remus shakes his head at her, while Lily, still laughing, wipes some tears from her eyes. “Remus, Remus, Remus,” she says. “Getting my hopes up for nothing.”

“Its not my fault you’d jump to such a ridiculous conclusion!” Remus says defensively. “How can that be- Wait. Hopes up? How so hopes up? And what the hell did you mean with ‘I knew it’?”

Lily shrugs. “‘I knew it’ is probably too strong a phrase. More like, I suspected it? Or at least I thought about the possibility before.”

Remus, who has never considered it as a possibility, gapes at her. “Why?” Is all he manages to say.

“I’m not sure,” Lily replies, looking at him thoughtfully. “He’s just... different when he’s around you. More grounded, somehow.”

“Well,” Remus mutters. “We’re best friends. Would be strange if he didn’t feel comfortable around me.”

“No,” Lily says in the same contemplating tone. “It’s different. Different than when he’s with Potter. When you two are together, it’s like... puzzle pieces falling into place.”

Remus can only stare at her. If only. If only he could be Sirius’ missing puzzle piece. But if Sirius’ puzzle is some bright, sunny landscape, Remus is a dreary raincloud that has no business being there.

Lily smiles sheepishly at him. “I’m sorry. I don’t really know how else to phrase it.”

“Phrase it however you like,” Remus says. “I’m not going to let myself believe such fancies. It’ll only lead to disappointment.”

“Oh?” Lily smirks. “So you’d be disappointed if Black would turn out to not fancy you?”

Remus clenches his jaw. “It. Doesn’t. Matter.”

“Anyways,” Lily chuckles. “Good thing you didn’t misunderstand when Potter told you! That would’ve made for an awkward conversation.”

“The thought didn’t even cross my mind,” Remus responds. “I’d never get such an idea in my head. He’s clearly way out of my league.”

Lily opens her mouth to protest, but Remus beats her to it. “No, Lily. Don’t try to boost my confidence. ‘Remus, you’re not in a different league, you could date someone like Sirius’. James already gave me that speech. He even said I could ‘date someone exactly like Sirius’.” Remus rolls his eyes. “Whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

“Remus...”

“And the conversation was awkward enough without misunderstandings. He kept repeating ‘it’s serious’, while giving me these weird, intense looks. Like, what can I even do with that information if he won’t tell me who it was? But when I asked, instead of answering, he just repeated ‘it’s serious’ again.”

“Remus.”

“And even if James meant it, the person who told him could’ve very well been messing with him. James can tell me this person was serious all he wants, but how can he be sure? I mean-”

“Remus!”

“What?”

“Remus! Bloody hell, Remus!”

“Yes, Lily what?”

“Remus, for Godric’s sake, Remus. You bloody idiot!”

“What, Lily? What am I missing?”

“I’ll tell you what you’re missing, you bloody oaf!” Lily crosses her arms over her chest, giving Remus a firm stare. “You’re missing the whole bloody fact that Potter looked you right in the eyes and told you Black totally fancies you!”

“He... What?” Remus chokes. “What in Merlin’s name are you talking about?”

Lily sniffs. “From what I gather, he wasn’t even very subtle about it.”

“No, Lily. No.” Remus shakes his head. “I really think I would’ve noticed!”

Lily raises an eyebrow. “Do you, Remus? Do you really?”

“You weren’t even there,” Remus mutters.

“Alright, alright.” Lily throws up her hands. “So he didn’t consequently phrase it as ‘it’s serious’ and ‘this person was serious’, and never anything like ‘I’m serious’ or ‘it’s for real’?”

“Well, yeah, he did, but-”

“And wasn’t he throwing you meaningful, emphatic looks every time he said that?”

“He was, but that doesn’t necessarily mean-”

“Come on, Remus! He was sending you a message, you must acknowledge that!”

“Lily, please,” Remus says pleading. “I can’t afford to hope. Hope... is dangerous.”

Lily’s face softens. “Remus, I don’t expect you to run up to him right now and declare your undying love. Although I do think that would be the right course of action,” she adds with a stern look. “But nevertheless, you shouldn’t let fear stop you! Just... try to at least open up to the possibility. Keep your eyes open the upcoming time, for any signs he might actually like you. That’s all I ask.”

Remus sighs. “Fine. I will.”

Lily stares at him for a moment. “Nope,” she then says. “No. Nope. No, you’re not getting away with it that easily. Knowing you, Black could be wearing an ‘I love Remus Lupin’ shirt tomorrow and sit down on you lap at breakfast, and you’d go ‘ah, such an affectionate friend’.”

Remus rolls his eyes, but Lily ignores him and picks up a quill and a piece of parchment. “I’m going to make you a list of specific signs you need to keep an eye out for! Number One,” she says. “Looking at you often.”

“We are best friends,” Remus says dryly. “We do tend to look at each other occasionally.”

“You know what I mean!” Lily says, but still she adds “Looking at you often, while you aren’t talking, or doing anything interesting, so when he has no reason to be looking at you. Let’s see, what else?” She taps the quill against her chin, before bending over the parchment again. “Number Two. Blushing/biting his lip/doing that thing were he tilts his head downwards and looks up at you through his lashes while interacting with you.”

Ah, yes. That thing. Remus definitely knows that thing. Not that he has ever thought Sirius does that around him in particular.

“Number Three,” Lily continues. “Giving you loads of compliments.”

Remus crosses his arms over his chest. “He only says he likes my sweaters to have an excuse to feel how soft they are!”

“Number Four,” Lily says pointedly, while looking at Remus unwaveringly. “Making up excuses to touch you.”

Remus huffs, and looks away.

Lily taps her quill in thought again. “Oh, right! Number Five. Acting extremely jealous when other people flirt with you.”

“How the hell am I supposed to check that?” Remus asks. “It’s not like people flirt with me every day! Or any day for that matter.”

“Well, I could-”

“Oh no, Lily! Don’t you dare! James’ sad deer-eyes are heart-breaking enough without knowing I caused them.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind that much,” Lily mutters.

Remus looks at Lily, then down at the list, and then back up at Lily. “Well, hello kettle. Nice to meet you. My name is pot.”

“I’ll think of something else,” Lily says irritably. “Let’s stick to these five signs for now, starting tomorrow at breakfast. If by the end of the week you haven’t seen any of them, I’ll drop it, but if you do manage to catch a few, you have to start seeing it as a serious option. Or as Potter would say, a Sirius option.”

“Fine,” Remus says, taking the list from Lily. “If that’s what it takes to get you to drop it.”

The next morning, Remus sits down at the breakfast table in his usual seat next to Sirius, across from James and Peter. James is rambling on about some new Quidditch strategy he wants to try out, and Peter is pretending to understand and trying to ask questions that don’t sound too dumb.

As Remus reaches for the porridge, he notices Mary McDonald batting her eyes at him. At first, he frowns at her. Does she have something in her eye, or is she trying to get his attention? Is she sending him a message in Morse code or something? Her finger is twirling in her dark hair so fast, that Remus is worried it might get stuck in there. Then Lily leans over and whispers something in Mary’s ear, and Remus understands. So this is Lily’s ‘thinking of something else’ for the last point om her list.

Remus groans under his breath, but decides that he might as well get started keeping his end of the deal. He turns to Sirius, and startles when he finds Sirius, head resting on his hand, staring right at him.

Sirius, also startled, jerks his head up when he suddenly meets Remus’ gaze. Remus wouldn’t consider blushing as something Sirius Black does, but the colour on his cheeks having been caught staring is definitely red. Sirius bites his lip, and tilts his head downwards, before looking up at Remus through his lashes. “I... Erm, I was just wondering if that’s a new jumper you’re wearing?”

“Eh, no. No, it’s not.”

“Well, in any case, I like it.” Sirius gives him a small smile. “I like how it looks on you. The colour really brings out your eyes.” Sirius chuckles as he reaches out and gently brushes Remus’ hair from his eyes. “If you don’t let that floppy hair of yours cover them completely, as adorable as those curls are.”

While Remus is struggling to form a reply that makes more sense than his first urge to promise Sirius he’ll never wear anything else ever again, another voice demands his attention.

“Rrrrrremus!” Mary makes the R sound like a purr. She has walked up to him and is now standing right behind the bench where he’s sitting, leaning in close over his shoulder so she can directly speak into his ear. Really, if she’s going to lean over like that, she should button up her blouse a bit more. Poor Peter nearly chokes on his toast.

“You’re so good at DADA. I was wondering if you have time after classes for some tutoring? I could really use some practice with my wand work.”

“Eh...” Remus once again struggles to form a reply. If she really needs help it’ll be rude refuse, right? Or is it part of Lily’s scheme? And if it is, would Lily want him to refuse or agree?

Before he can say anything though, Sirius speaks up, his cold gaze intently focused on Mary. “He can’t,” he says in an icy voice. “Remus is already working on his Potions Paper after class, with me.”

Remus doesn’t recall making such plans, but they do have a Potions Paper due, and Remus does desperately need Sirius’ help when it comes to Potions, so he just nods.

“Oh, booo,” Mary pouts prettily. “Better luck next time, I suppose.”

She turns around and walks out of the Great Hall, swaying in such a manner Remus worries she might dislocate a hip. Boys all over the Great Hall hang out of their seats to watch her go, but Remus is pretty sure that Sirius is the only one who’s glaring daggers.

Even though he only started keeping an eye out five minutes ago, Remus goes over the signs on the list in his head.

Well, fuck.

Part One

Part Three

The Final Part

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal (Chapter 12)

Chapter Summary: Bucky romances the shit out of you. In his own way.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 5.4k

Warnings: drinking, cursing, old friends partying together, smut, semi-public sex, oral sex (f), face fucking.  

A/N: I shouldn’t tease you guys as much as I do when I respond the comments, lol! Thank you so much for all the feedback, btw. Be nice to Bucky, he’s never been in love before. Thank you, @lesqui​, for sparing me some time even when you have so much in your plate. Love you. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

Tag list for this story is closed.  

*no Alpine in this particular chapter, but the art is just too amazing and fitting for the two of them in this story not to seize the opportunity to use it when the talented @muffinshark​ gave me permission. 

The sour taste of lemon eases down the burn in your throat after the second shot of tequila of the night. Laughs and chattering sounds mingle with the beats around you in the dark place.

“So, how’s single life treating you, Y/n?” Brianna asks raising her voice to be heard, making the attention of your other friends, Maddie and Taylor, turn to you as well with expectant looks on their faces while the four of you stands around a tall and stylish table.

Since they all wanted to dance, you ended up choosing a restaurant that turned into a club later in the night. The place is a bit too fancy for your taste, but the music is good, as well as the drinks and the company. 

At college, they were your little gang, but with time, as your relationship with Eddie became more and more serious, the group ended up drifting apart, shrinking the relationship into occasional text messages and even more rare encounters. Maddie is the exception, since her fiancée, David, is friends with Eddie, which led to the four of you keep hanging out as couples.  

You feel guilty and stupid for letting them aside, because you missed this, so much. And so did they, for when you called them, they were all on board to start seeing each other more.

“Pretty good, actually,” you answer, taking a sip of your bottle of water. You don’t mind getting a bit tipsy that night, but you need to get an uber by yourself back home and you definitely don’t want it to escalate to you ending up drunk on a stranger’s car, “I mean, I’ve been seeing you guys more often, I’ve been reading a lot, watching all my favorite films-”

“Don’t you miss banging?” Brianna asks, frowning at you.

“Bri,” Taylor scolds, but turns her focus on you, anyway, waiting for an answer, as does Maddie. 

You clear your throat, making some time before answering. You haven’t told them about Bucky… you’re not even sure why, but you suspect that it’s just because you don’t know exactly how to define him in your life. For a reason you still don’t have clear in your mind, you can’t just refer to him as a guy you had a deal with to bang, “Ahm… I’m not focusing on that right now.” You shrug, not telling a complete lie.  

“Ugh, girl, you should,” Brianna grimaces, “I mean… we all know Eddie was your first and only,” She huffs, “Now that you’re out there in the world, there’s so much you could explore. I mean… so much.” She smirks.

“You better hurry up, though,” Maddie says, gulping down some water, “Eddie is determined to get back with you, he’s been talking to David a lot about it and, I mean, he proposed and all.”

The grimace on Brianna’s face twists hard, while Taylor smiles sympathetically at you.  

“I know…” You sigh, looking down for a second, “I just don’t know how I feel about it.”

“You know what? It was about time that relationship of yours with Eddie to be over-“

“Alright, alright,” Taylor, ever the peacemaker intervenes, shooting a warning look at Brianna, who stays quiet but doesn’t seem too happy about it, “Enough about exes and fiancées.” Taylor looks past your shoulders and nods, just when a small smirk curls up her lips, “Look at that guy right there… a damn greek God, he would be perfect for you to explore, like Bri said.”

You chuckle lightly, not really getting as excited as you are expected to be.

While Maddie stands on her toes to look for the guy, you spot when Brianna’s face light up right before she shrieks, “Holy shit, that’s not just some hot guy, that’s The Winter Fucking Soldier.”

The air catches in your throat as your eyes widen, “Bucky?” You swiftly turn towards the direction they’re looking at. And there’s the man himself. Sipping from a glass of whiskey while listening to what one of the two girls he’s talking to is saying. Before there’s a chance of his gaze lock with yours, your face snaps forward again.

You ignore Brianna squinting at you, and bring your bottle of water to your suddenly dry lips. Seeing him there made you, all of a sudden, a nervous teenager who spots a crush at a party. You do need to figure out your damn feelings soon…

“Oh, yeah…” Maddie says, realization running over her face, “That’s him. Damn he looks good… Y/N, oh my God, do you often come across him at work?” She asks, excited curiosity on her voice.

“Sometimes, yeah…” you mumble, biting your lip, still a bit shook by his presence. Could it be just a coincidence? You remember telling him you were going out, but you don’t remember telling him where you would be…

“You’re so lucky to work there,” Taylor sighs while your mind runs at full speed, “The Avengers… holy shit, why are they all so hot? That Falcon dude…”

“What about Captain America? That ass…” Maddie says, with a dreamy tone, “And Thor… Tony Stark…the damn Hulk...”

“Bucky?” Brianna finally speaks, squinting harder at you and interrupting Maddie while she went over all the Avengers names and hotness, “Bucky? When did you two get so intimate… and why are you so flustered to see him here?” She tips her chin and waves all over you. Her eyes go bigger before she smirks, “You sneaky little I’m not focusing on sex right now bitch, you’ve been fucking him, haven’t you? You’ve been boning the Winter Soldier.”

You’re sure you look like a deer caught in headlights, because Maddie and Taylor gaping expressions now match Brianna’s. Seeing no point or really no good reason to hide the blatant truth from your friends, you allow you initial fluster to mold into a smirks, “A lot of fucking, actually,” you admit.  

After the squeaky reaction, you tell them all about the deal you had with Bucky, just leaving out the part when he confessed his feelings. That’s still a sensitive topic to you and you’re not sure how much Bucky would be ok with having such an intimate situation exposed. The sex bits, though? You’re pretty sure he wouldn’t mind whatsoever.  

“Oh my god,” Taylor gasps when you’re done, “I’m gonna need another shot after that.” She fans herself before calling for a waiter.

“Make it four, we’re all pretty thirsty now,” Brianna wiggles her eyebrows at you, “Holy shit, and here I was thinking our girl was moping around and drying out from the inside of that vagina out.” She scoffs to herself, ”You go, you glorious bitch.” She reaches out for a discreet high five under the table, to which you quickly respond with a laugh.

“Ahm, guys…” Maddie calls, frowning at the screen of her phone after looking up with an apologetic expression, “David just texted me. He and Eddie are at the door to come in.” She cringes.

“Oh…” You frown at the news.

“Shit…” Brianna laughs, while the waiter arrives with the trail of shots Taylor had ordered, “This sure is going to be an interesting night.” She catches two glasses from the trail, handing one directly to you.

“Maddie, did you tell David to come? Of course he would bring Eddie…” Taylor tilts her head in a chastising way while the waiter places the other two shots on the table. 

“I didn’t know,” Maddie looks helpless, before turning to you, “Y/N, I swear… I can call David and tell them to go somewhere else, he will understand-“

“Shh,” you wave and shake your head at her dismissively, “Don’t worry, Mads, it’s fine.” You soothe her, “But my plans of going home sober have just gone down the drain.” You shrug, right before turning down your shot.

Grimacing at the sower taste, you glance behind your shoulder. You don’t spot Bucky there, anymore. You doubt he has left the place, but you catch yourself wishing that was the case. Eddie being there doesn’t bother you as much as the possibility of Bucky thinking you had made plans with your ex. 

Damn… you really need to put your feelings in check.

“Alright,” Brianna turns down her shot and claps her hands, “Come on, let’s dance, we can fix ourselves another shot in our way,” she decides, pulling you by the hand, to which you offer no resistance.  

You have no idea what Eddie or Bucky are doing there and of course it puts you off a bit, since you weren’t expecting an encounter with the two of them that night… but you know one thing, you came here to have fun and you might as well do exactly that.

While Taylor and Maddie choose to stay by the table, you and Brianna go to the dance floor. There’s a lot of dancing, drinking and laughs… so much laughing. The DJ puts on a playlist from your college decade and you two go wild with that.

“I need some water, be right back,” Brianna pants in your ear at some point, and you just nod, too involved in the music to stop dancing. This is one of the perks of staying single. You discovered a lot about you and just how much you enjoy dancing was something you’ve never been aware of yourself before.

A few minutes pass after Brianna left and you keep swaying to the music until you feel a pair of arms around your waist. A smile pops in your lips as an instant flashback surges in your mind: the first time you went out with Bucky… met his friends… danced with them until he came to get you… circling his arms around you just like that.

Chuckling, you turn around but the smiling face your gaze meets is not the one you saw back then.  

It’s Eddie.

“Hi,” he greets, keeping his hands on your waist.

You sure hope the disappointment isn’t etched on your face when you greet him back with a weak but friendly enough hello. You take a step back, unraveling yourself from his hands.

“Ahm…” He clears his throat, letting his arms fall to each side of him, “I saw you dancing when I came in.” He smiles, tilting his face closer to you and speaking loudly so you can hear him, “You looked beautiful…”

At the compliment your eyes shift to the floor and, not really sure how to respond, you just let out a small and breathy laugh. 

“I hope you don’t mind me being here, David called me and I… I’m not gonna lie, I really wanted to see you.” He leans even closer.

“Eddie…” you sigh, taking another step back as your eyes, almost involuntarily, roams around, trying to spot if anyone is watching you. And by anyone, your mind means Bucky. You find him. He’s up there in one of the mezzanines, engaged on a conversation with a group of people. You’re not even sure he’s seen you there. He’s not looking at you and he hasn’t come to say hello…

“Ahm,” Eddie brushes the back of his neck and your attention is on him again. He presses his lips in a tight smile before speaking again, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen the girls, I’m gonna go say hello and grab something to drink.” He nods towards the direction of the table you were with your friends before.

“Oh, ok, ahm, I’ll go with you,” you say and his whole face light up, “I need something to drink, too.”

He nods with a smile and gestures for you to lead the way.

Despite some initial wariness of Eddie’s presence among the girls, the night plays out pretty smoothly, actually. The little group you’re a part of engages in a jovial and light conversation. It seems like college all over again and it’s so much fun. You like that. Every once in a while, your gaze meets Eddie’s and, for that split of moment, it seems like nothing’s changed, but at the same time, it’s all different. Going out with your friends and having so much fun with Eddie at your side weren’t something that was a part of your relationship. But you could get used to that…

At the same time… more often than you dare to acknowledge, your gaze navigates unbidden to search for Bucky, to see what he’s doing, to check if he’s looking at you, to see if he’s still there or maybe has left… with someone else… Every single time your eyes find him, but not once he looks at you.

It makes you feel some kind of way… some longing kind of feeling.

When the shots and the water become a bit much, you excuse yourself to the ladies room, to where Taylor goes with you.

“So… it seems like you’re dealing pretty well with Eddie being here, huh?” she says, looking at you through the mirror while you both fix your lipsticks by the sink.

“Yeah…” you frown and shrug, “I’m kinda surprised to be honest. We almost never did this while we were together. I thought he didn’t like it, but maybe it was just us being too accommodated into a routine, I guess…” You look to your lips and resume to apply your lipstick.

“Yeah…” she closes her lipstick and places back in her purse, “Or he’s just making an effort to win you back…”

You sigh, watching her through the mirror, “Maybe… I don’t know…”

“What about…” she looks around the bathroom, there’s only a couple of other girls, but Taylor has always been the more discreet one, “the other guy? What’s really there? The way you talked about him, the way you looked at him… it didn’t seem like just sex to me…”

Oh… the million-dollar question. You put your lipstick away and turn to face her, “I don’t know…” You lick your lips after letting out an exhale, “He did tell me he was feeling something more,” you admit.

“Ah… I see…” She smirks. “What about you, huh?” She pulls you away from the countertop and to a small lounge area there in the restroom.

“I don’t know.” You shake your head, while a small smile curls your lip, “I mean…he’s… incredible… such a free spirit…” You grin wider as you think of him, “I had never met anyone like him before. I guess it’s impossible not to end up feeling something, but…” Your smile falters a bit, “I’m not sure how much he would be up to everything else, all the drama, I mean, that comes with a relationship… with experiencing a feeling deeper than just… sex.” You shrug and look down, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I see… but… Can I tell you something?” She asks, tilting her head.

You look up at her, nodding for her to continue. 

“Don’t get me wrong but, I feel like maybe you’re feeling and thinking that way because in your relationship with Eddie, you’ve learned that love, freedom, fun… all of that couldn’t work together and… I’m not sure that’s the rule of every relationship, though. It can be light, fun, meaningful and still be a committed relationship. It sure seems like you enjoy yourself with Bucky, and that’s what really matters in the end, right? They way you feel about yourself when you’re with someone?”

You just ponder her words for a second. You’ve been thinking about it a lot… the time you spent together makes you wonder how a relationship with Bucky would play out and… it makes your heart so light and hopeful… But it doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t lead to hurt or even that you have your feelings all figured out, yet.

“Anyway…” You shake your head, “He didn’t even look at me tonight, so…maybe it was really just an infatuation all along…” You run your tongue inside your lips, trying to suppress the heaviness suddenly in your chest, “Come on, let’s not spend the night in here.” You chuckle, nodding and walking towards the way out as Taylor just eyes you but follows you nevertheless.

The sight you come across as soon as you step out of the restroom makes you stop on your track.

He’s leaning by the wall of the alleyway, both hands behind his back, one leg folded up, his foot pressed against the wall. Dark grey t-shirt and blue jeans. Short fluffy hair in a combed back style. Perfect enough to grab… just how he likes it. Plump lips shadowed by a light scruff and soft blue eyes trained on you.  

Damn… He takes your breath away.

“Ahm, ok… yeah…gotta go, see you, later, Y/N.” Taylor says and swiftly leaves the scene.

All the while, you just don’t seem to be able to move your gaze away from him. When you spot the smile starting to curl his lips, you feel the tug on yours, too. And there you are, looking and smile at each other… the sounds of music and chattering muffled by the big door that separates the bathrooms area from the rest of the club.

Without uttering a word or parting his eyes from yours, Bucky extends a hand to you. An invitation…

Your gaze drops to the tempting hand, and then you glance at the door to the club. In your chest, your heart beats fast and almost louder than the music, like it’s making you notice it, telling you loudly and clearly you what it wants. When you look back at him, you have your lower lip pressed between your teeth and you step closer.

Your hands barely touch before he gently envelops yours in his. As the heat of his skin covers yours, his smile widens at you and he moves away from the wall he’s been leaning onto, moving towards the opposite direction of the music, leading you with him by his hand.

You hadn’t even seen the small black door by the end of the hallway, but he opens it and you follow him. Walking behind him, never letting go of his hand, he walks you through what seems like a storage room, until you find another door that leads you to a flight of stairs. Your breathing increases and you gulp down as you climb up the stairs with him. No questions. There’s no need.

When you get to the end of the steps, he stops in front of a two-leaf door and lets go of your hand to open it. He turns to you and, with that sweet smile of his, gestures for you step to the other side.

You breathe in the fresh outside air and step into what seems like a roof deck in construction. The sound of the door shutting behind catches your attention before you feel his heat on your back and his arms around your waist.

You lean back and your eyes flutter shut once he breathes in through your hair, making your arms go slack. Shit … you really missed him.

“It’s going to be pretty when it’s done, don’t you think?” He talks to you for the first time that night. His voice comes out in a low and raspy sound while the warmth of his breath covers your neck. Your thighs clench against one another, “I had a survey around the area once I got here and found this place. I thought it was perfect...” He whispers, tightening the hold on you.

You just let out a hum in response… The faded beats of music sound distant from where you are, but his hips start swaying, leading you with his rhythm... You sigh as a small smile pops on your lips when you cover his hands on your waist with yours. 

 “How’s your night so far, huh, having fun?” His low voice vibrates through the skin of your neck.

“Lots of it,” you let out a long exhale, leaning further against him.  

“That’s good.” A faint of a kiss lays on your shoulder.  “I saw you having fun down there with your friends…” He keeps the slow sway of his hips with yours, “So sexy, and beautiful,” he praises, and you lick your lips, “I hope you don’t mind me crashing in.”

A sharp gasp leaves your lips once he turns you around in his arms and you catch yourself by circling yours around his neck.

The intensity in his eyes is almost unbearable in a delicious way and his gaze roams around your face, carefully scrutinizing every single detail. With a will of its own, your lips part when your eyes drop to his, and next thing you see, you’re caged between him and the nearest wall.

He doesn’t relent to the silent plea in your parted lips and eyes focuses on his lips and, instead of locking them with yours like you can’t for a second deny that you want, he drags them over the bare skin of your neck up to your jaw.

“I thought that maybe I could add a little something to your night,” he whispers right above your pulsing point before his tongue darts to lick the skin there.

A wanton moan escapes you at the feeling… the sweet feeling of having him so close to you again. This time you spent apart from him… not for a second you forgot about the effect he has on your body… on you… and there he is again, turning you into putty under his touch.

“You look so sexy in this dress,” he continues and, without parting his lips from your neck, his hand skims up your bare thigh towards the hem of your dress, “Made me eager for a taste…” He whispers into your ears, turning your senses into a blurry fog when he drops on his knees in front of you.  

His both hands continue their ascend on your thigh and underneath your dress when a stubborn reasonable thought slips through the cloud of your senses.

“Bucky…” You pant, looking down at him, “I don’t…”

His hands stop right before they get to your underwear, “You don’t want it?” He asks, staring up at you.  

“No…I do...” you admit, completely unable to lie to him while you run a hand over your face, “Fuck, I do... I just…” You sigh, trying to organize your thoughts and words, “You said you’re…” You let out another frustrated breath by not being able to be straightforward with what you’re saying. He’s said he’s in love with you. You still don’t have a clear picture of your feelings, you’re afraid that if you go further with this, you might end up hurting him, which you absolutely do not want, “I’m still…” You shake your head, “I don’t wanna complicate things…”

“Shhhh,” he soothes, placing a long kiss on your thigh and then the other, which makes butterflies fly in your belly, before he looks up at you again, with a smile on his lips, “Don’t you worry, sweetheart… I told you before…” He brushes his hand lightly up and down your thighs, “I’m a grown ass man, I can handle my feelings…” He licks his lips and takes a piercing bite on his lower one, before aiming you a devilish dark gaze, “A grown ass man who wants a taste of that sweet pussy of yours... It’s just a taste. I missed it so bad…” he pleads, nuzzling into your mound through the fabric of your dress.

“Fuck…” your head falls back into the wall. If this is going to complicate things… you’re both adults who can deal with complications… right? You’re not that sure. All you’re sure about is the aching throb in your clit and your hands moving to lift up your dress.

Taking it as the yes that he needs, Bucky wastes no time, hastily helping you pull up the skirt of your dress up your waist. He swiftly drags the base of your underwear aside and digs in with an open mouth.

At the sensation of his wet and warm tongue on you again, shivers run up your skin to your nipples and your face contorts in a silent cry. Your hands close into tight fists, bunching tightly the fabric of your dress.  

He hooks a hand under your leg and places it over his shoulder, opening you up to him and you gasp, sneaking your fingers on his hair. He laps at your clit with a furious desire that makes your thoughts faint and your eyes shut, focusing your mind solely on the delicious mouth on you and how it brings an inferno upon your core and skin. The kind of feeling that only him can bring you, making you moan like that and kicking the air out of your lungs.

Bucky lets out a hum that vibrates all through your core and your eyes snap down to see his face shoved deep into your pussy, back and forward, while he grabs your ass and presses you harder against him. It’s like he’s desperate to taste you, to feel you, to have you all over him… and, damn… that makes you feel hotter and sexier than ever.   

 “Fuck,” you whisper under a heavy breath and grabs his hair harder.

That’s when he moves away and rests his cheek on your thigh, seeming on a fight for air himself while his stare remains on your exposed sex right in front of him, “Damn you taste perfect,” he pants before turning his face to grab the soft flesh of your inner thigh in a piercing but delicious bite that makes you yelp, “So good,” he breathes again, before flattening his tongue and licking a long stripe of your pussy.

“Bucky…” you whisper, letting your head fall back while your knees shake.

“Fucking perfect,” he moves to bite your other thigh sharply, which draws out a breathy and delighted laugh out of that dies shortly in a gasp when his tongue comes back to lick your pussy with renewed hunger.

You breathe erratically and stars appear behind your lids, shut in a dreamy state while he devours you out. He doesn’t use his fingers… only his mouth is enough to bring you to a little paradise in a roof deck under construction in the middle of the city.  

Your face snaps down at him with a glare once you can’t feel the wet and soft touch of his lips anymore. But the plea that comes out of his lips in a low and seductive tone makes it all worth it.

“Fuck my face, sweetheart…”

“What?” Your eyes widen a bit, in sheer disbelief, but with a hint of eagerness speeding up your breathing even more.

“Fuck my face,” he repeats, brushing his nose on your mound before laying a kiss on the spot, “You wanna come on my mouth don’t you? I want you to come all over my face, sweetheart, please...”

Fucking please? Does he really think he needs to beg you for that, “Oh…Yes, fuck yeah, I do.” Your voice comes out almost in a grunt.

He smirks and groans in response before digging in again and pushing your hard against his face.  Propped by a frenzy that rushes up your whole body, you do exactly what he asked of you. Positioning your hands on the back of his head you grind your pussy harshly up and down against him, feeling all of his beautiful face against your dripping and sensitive flesh.

His growing beard rasps against your thighs and it only makes the sensations even more intense. You can’t hold your loud moans back, that mixes up with his muffled groans, while you properly fucks his face. It’s all too much and it’s not long before you let out a strangled cry and your whole body shivers in a potent climax while you come all over his mouth and face, just like he asked.

Bucky tightens the hold on your thigh and ass, grounding you on your spot at the same time he peppers soft kisses on your mound, thighs, pussy… Your body spasms at the feeling and the aftershocks of your pleasure, until you can’t take it anymore and gathers the strength to grab his collar and pull him up to you. 

As soon as his face – glistening in your pleasure- levels yours, you steal his lips in a furious kiss. His taste is all yourself and, fuck, it drives you wild. You reach a hand down and cups his cock, moaning at feeling it hard and throbbing against your hand through his pants.

When you start gently palming it up and down, he grabs your pulse with his metal hand, stopping your moves.

Parting your lips from him, you frown, to which he answers smiling and bringing your hand to his lips, to place a kiss on it before lacing his fingers with yours and trapping your joined hands between your chests. The gesture itself is enough to make your face soften while you take in a deep breath.

“I’m gonna go home now,” he says, leisurely wiping his face with the back of his flash hand.

The frown comes back to your face, “Huh?”

He chuckles, having his face delightfully close to yours, “I’m not here to disturb you night, sweetheart. You go back and have fun with your friends, they seem great,” he brings his lips to your forehead, “You look so sexy in this dress,” he speaks with his lips on your skin, while your hands are still linked between the two of you.  His flesh one, he dips beneath the hem of your dress that now has fallen over your thighs again.

You’re suddenly out of breath one more time and can’t part your eyes from him, completely in lack of words.

As for him, he skims up your thigh and leans back to look down at his hand, “You go show this whole club how beautiful and hot you are. Dance with somebody,” he suggests, nonchalantly, like he’s not just now hooking a finger under the base of your underwear that he had pushed aside, to put it back in place and cover you up.

You watch, completely entranced, while he brings his finger to his nose, his eyes fluttering shut as he sniffs and hums, before his dark blue gaze is on yours again, “Let them know how good you smell… how perfect you are.”

A strangled noise comes out of you.

He chuckles, and cups the side of your neck, placing another kiss on your forehead, “I’m getting down first, and don’t worry. I know how to be invisible… don’t wanna bring any kind of drama to your night,” he says with no sign of bitterness or anything like that on his tone.

He doesn’t mention Eddie, but you swallow dry because you know he has him in mind when he mentions “drama”.

With a smirk on his face, he winks, before locking his lips on yours in a chaste but intense kiss. Too soon he parts away, walking through the same door you two hat gotten there by, leaving you completely speechless and wrecked behind.

~~~

When you were finally out of your daze and deciding that only tomorrow you would think of the many possible consequences to what had just happened, you managed to climb down the stairs and, after a quick stopped by the bathroom to put yourself as together as one could be at that situation, you walk your stubbornly wobbly legs towards the table with your friends again.

“Where the hell were you?” Once she spots you, Maddie shouts, with no control on the volume of her voice, looking quite a bit drunk with a margarita in hands, no sign of David or Eddie around the table.

“Ahm,” you risk a glance at Taylor, who avoids looking at you and focuses on sucking her own drink from the straw, “I saw a friend from work, I went to say hello.” You clear your throat.

“Don’t you bullshit us, bitch.” This time Brianna shouts, stepping forward and pushing you on the shoulder, making you almost fall ass-first to the floor if Maddie hadn’t helped you out by grabbing your arm. “Look at you. You look thoroughly fucked. Literally.” She starts laughing loudly, as the others follow.

“Shhhh,” you shush them, holding back your own laugh, “Holy shitballs, you guys. The whole club doesn’t need to know.”

The three of them start a drunken mess of applause, cheers and shrieks at your little slip. You’re too involved with them to notice that a particular pair of ears isn’t really that far from the table and hears the whole interaction. 

~~~

To be continued...

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Training Day

AMHL – Masterlist

WARNINGS: PTSD, domestic violence & abuse, panic attack, anxiety 

“I feel like you’re torturing me now,” Y/N groaned as she put the bar back down on the bench press.

Dick chuckled. “You gotta gain some strength before I teach you, otherwise you’re just going to hurt yourself.”

“You callin’ me fat, Grayson?”

His eyes grew three sizes and his jaw dropped in shock. “No, no, no, no, no. I would never!”

Then he jumped into a tangent about how beautiful he was and he loved her for how she looked and never wanted her to change, unless that’s what she wanted. And it went on and on and on.

Y/N finally took pity on him and started laughing.

“Dick, I’m just fucking with you.”

He pointed an accusatory finger at her. “That was cruel.”

But she only laughed more.

“10 pushups for that,” he demanded.

Her jaw dropped. “Noooo!”

“Yeah. Come on.”

She did as he instructed, knowing she did kind of deserve it.

Afterward, he led her to the training mats. They had done weight training for about 30 minutes or so, and Dick insisted that was going to be a big part of all this. He was right: some of the self-defense moves would only hurt her if she didn’t prep her body.

But when Dick turned to find Y/N standing at the ready on the other side, his tough-love coaching style disappeared.

She looked so small and fragile, clearly nervous for the actual fight training.

Sometimes Dick forgot that Y/N wasn’t like his family or his teammates. She didn’t graduate from field work to sitting behind a computer. Hacking and computer science was her first and only exposure to this life.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing. You just…look nervous.”

“I am,” she admitted.

With that, Dick walked across the mat and planted a kiss on her lips.

He stepped back with a smile, “Ready?”

She beamed at him and nodded.

For the next half hour or so, Dick taught Y/N all the basics of self defense: how to get out of holds, where to hit an attacker for the most impact, and how to prevent herself from getting injured in the process.

“Things are going to be quicker in real life. You’re going to have to get over the feeling of panic and calm yourself down enough to properly react,” Dick explained.

Y/N nodded with her back to him as she returned to her spot on the other side of the training mats.

But she didn’t reach it before Dick surprised her with a chokehold from behind her.

Before now, Dick had been walking her through moves step by step. But he clearly was trying to prove the point that she would most likely not be expecting these attacks. And he wanted her to get used to reacting to the surprise of it all.

Except…Dick didn’t think this training tactic completely through.

Dick hadn’t taken into account that his student and girlfriend was also a victim of domestic violence.

Since she first escaped from underneath her parents’ roof, Y/N’s had improved a lot when it came to treating and handling her PTSD.

It used to be so much worse.

Loud noises would throw her into panic attacks. People just lightly touching her without her expecting it made her jump feet away. Anytime she got a whiff of alcohol that smelled even a little bit similar to her father’s preferred brand could set her off.

Over the years, it got better.

Therapy helped. Dick helped – his whole family had helped.

But Y/N knew it would always be there, waiting inside her.

And in this moment, it decided to reveal itself once again.

Y/N’s vision blurred. All she could hear was her heartbeat making its way to her ears.

It wasn’t until her entire body was trembling that Dick realized something was wrong.

He let go.

But before he even completely let go, Y/N dodged away so quickly that she almost tripped over her own feet.

She whipped around, eyes so wide. Like a deer facing a hunter, fully aware it was about to be slaughtered.  

And Dick realized how much he just fucked up.  

Without even realizing what she was doing, Y/N slowly lowered herself to the ground, not trusting that her knees to not give out at any moment.

“Y/N,” Dick whispered desperately.

It was hearing how sorry he was already that made Y/N’s eyes fill with tears.

As soon as she was shakily lowered to the ground, she hugged her knees to her chest and hid her face in them.

“Can we stop?” She begged, as if she had no choice and Dick had complete control.

Her voice and sob was muffled by her knees.

“Yes, we’re stopping,” Dick immediately answered with a clear voice. "You’re safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”

But Y/N only nodded, not helping to convince Dick that his words comforted her in the slightest. 

Her entire body was trembling as she continued to squeeze her knees as tightly as she could.

Dick kneeled but didn’t move any closer to her.

“Can I…Please…Can I touch you?” He whispered.

But she shook her head.

Not because she didn’t want him to, but because she felt like she had no control over her body right now. And she had no idea how it was going to react to being touched again. 

And she was already mortified and confused and terrified.

“OK,” Dick sighed as he lowered himself to the mat as well. “I’m just going to sit here. OK? I’m not going to get anywhere near you.”

Y/N didn’t respond. But her body was still clearly trembling.

“Can you just breath for me?” Dick asked softly. "Deep breaths in, slow breaths out.”

She still doesn’t respond. But he can hear her trying to do as he asked.

Dick didn’t think he should say any more, worried that his talking was just making the whole situation worse. But then he remembered a tactic Bruce had taught him to console victims who were going into shock or scared of them.

“Can you count backwards from 100 with me?” He then asked.

“What?” She sputtered out, confusedly.

But it was good that she was clearly able to even process that he was talking to her.

“Countdown from 100,” he repeated gently. “100, 99, 98,” he started.

She eventually joined in.

When they reached 1, Y/N went quiet again.

It seemed to have worked. 

After a few minutes, Y/N finally stood up.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” she whispered quickly, but it was so quiet that Dick almost didn’t catch it.

The next second, she rushed out of the cave.

Now that her PTSD had calmed down, she was clearly embarrassed.

“Y/N! Wait!” Dick called after her in a panic and jogged after her.

When they got to the main part of the manor and Y/N reached the stairs to go to the second floor, she had flown past a very confused and concerned Bruce Wayne.

Dick paused when Y/N sprinted up the stairs with her eyes blood shot and cheeks tear stained.

“What did you do, Dick?” Bruce grunted, not even considering that it could also possibly be Y/N’s fault.

Dick sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “I was showing her some self-defense…and I…I trigged her PTSD and she had a panic attack.”

“You need to be more careful,” Bruce reprimanded.

“I know, I know. It was stupid.” Dick already knew he messed up.

Bruce remained disappointed by Dick’s mistake.

“I’m going to go check on her,” Dick mumbled and passed Bruce with his head hung.

Dick returned to his childhood room, the one they always stayed in while visiting. 

The shower was already running.

He figured he should give her some time to herself and not rush into the bathroom.

Y/N was most likely crying and wanted to hide it from him. Even though she already realized Dick would know that’s exactly what she was doing.

10 minutes later, Y/N came out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam and a white towel wrapped tightly around her.

Dick’s heart broke even more when he saw her red, bloodshot eyes.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, desperate for her forgiveness.

He should’ve realized that certain things in typical self-defense training could trigger her.

Bruce had taught him to always expect the unexpected. And Y/N’s PTSD should’ve be expected while he put her under such a tense and rigorous circumstance.

Y/N hung her head in shame. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Dick.”

Her voice was so small, so vulnerable. Dick had to hold his breath to hear it.

“Y/N, you have nothing to be embarrassed about,” he insisted and he slowly stood up from the edge of the bed.

Dick wanted to go to her, but he was so scared of making things worse.

“Will you please come here?” He finally asked in a whisper.

She practically tiptoed to her boyfriend, while she held her towel tightly to her body as if it were some kind of armor.

As soon as Y/N was a few inches away, Dick gently tugged her onto his lap.

He was a very tactile man, and not being able to give her physical comfort was slowly killing him. And he felt utterly useless to help her.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed or sorry. I knew better than to surprise you like that. I was an idiot. What happened was my fault, OK?”

She nodded slowly.

Eventually his words would get through to her.

“Can you still train me?”

Y/N finally shocked Dick with her question.

“Of course, Y/N. Let’s just take it slower next time. I promise to be more careful.”

She nodded quickly, fully believing him and trusting him.

Now he put his arms around her, holding her to him tightly.

Dick had always been protective over her. But when she showed signs of being triggered, he went full mama bear on her. But that was also Dick as a person. He was so caring of everyone in his life. He was a big brother, a leader, a stand-in father sometimes even. 

But it often led to Y/N’s guilt when Dick felt the need to treat her like a piece of glass. But sometimes…she was. And that was OK.

“Wanna get to sleep?” He muttered into her hair.

She nodded again.

Dick carefully moved her from his lap and placed her on the bed before he stood.

Y/N watched with love in her eyes as Dick moved around the room and grabbed some of his clothes to give to her to sleep in.

What had she done to deserve him?

“I’ll give you a minute,” Dick told her as he handed the clothes to her. 

Not that he hadn’t seen her naked hundreds of times before. He was just treading carefully now. 

“Want some tea?” He asked as he walked to the door. 

“Sure,” she agreed quietly.

When Dick returned with two cups of tea, Y/N was already underneath the covers of their bed.

Dick watched Y/N as she took her first sip.

“You want to talk about it?” He was ever so careful in his tone, making sure it was obvious that Y/N didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to.

“There’s not much to tell,” she admitted with a shrug.

“That’s alright though.”

Y/N sighed. “As fucked up as it sounds, I sometimes forget about all the things he used to do to me.” 

She chuckled darkly, “Guess that’s repression for ya.”

Dick winced slightly.

“He used to grab me by the throat. Constantly. Because he hated whenever I tried to talk back or fight him with words. So he made sure I couldn’t talk at all. It was all about control.”

Despite being trigged and having a panic attack earlier, Y/N talked about her tragic past without any emotion, and it sounded so casually. She was numb to the memories, but the scars manifested themselves in different ways now – and that was proven today.

Y/N looked up when Dick hadn’t said anything.

She was taken aback by how he looked as if he was going to be sick.

“I’m fine, Dick. Really.” She insisted as she cupped his cheek.

It hurt Dick to hear these things more than it hurt Y/N now. 

“You were dealing with your past all by yourself long before you met me,” Dick answered. “But I just need you to know I’m never going to let anything like that ever happen to you again.”

He took in a shaky breath. “Even if – fuck – even if something happened between us, and we weren’t together…I’d still keep you safe. Do you understand?”

Y/N smiled.

Oh, Dick. His gentleness never stopped amazing her.

“I know that, Dick. I’ve always known that.”

Before he could answer, she added, “Now enough talking. Can you just cuddle me now?”

Dick laughed at her demanding and teasing tone.

“Get over here,” he pulled her into his chest.

Soon his grasp was so soothing to Y/N’s body that she reached the ultimate level of relaxation, especially after being drained from her earlier panic.

Y/N felt Dick kiss the top of her head before she fell asleep in his arms.

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ALL BONUS CONTENT CAN BE FOUND: HERE

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Dimitrescu Daughter HCs

I thought this would only take a few minutes. I was so, so very wrong. Anyway, some of these are somewhat exclusive to my fic (Serenade), but they’ll make sense even if you haven’t read that.

Daniela:

Others have already talked about how Daniela reads a ton of romance novels, so I’m not really going to go into that very much, just saying that I agree 100%, I mean c’mon, it’s practically canon.

While she mainly sources books from her family’s library, there are a few she’s “acquired” over the years that she keeps locked away in her room. These tend to be a bit, ahem, steamier than her mother would approve of/let her read under normal circumstances.

How did she get these? Well, there has to be someone who delivers goods to Castle Dimitrescu (Duke, perhaps?), seeing as the Maidens need, like, actual food to survive. Sometimes Daniela manages to convince them to order books for her, usually just asking for books by authors she likes, or ones she’s heard maidens whispering about.

No, the delivery person does not read the book’s summaries or reviews, they have a feeling (based on titles and covers alone) that they don’t want to know.

As for her experiences with actual romance… she’s so very, very excited about it, all the time. Wants to kiss every cute Maiden she sees, and sometimes daydreams about a beautiful woman fleeing from lycans who comes to the castle for shelter, clinging to Dani for warmth and protection, and it’s love at first sight, and they kiss and kiss and right as it gets to the good part-! Someone interrupts her daydream (usually Cassandra).

However, her actual experiences are fairly limited. Sure, she has kissed Maidens, but she tends to get over excited. Like in Serenade, she starts to rush the process, and usually ends up draining her “lover” aka victim before anything more intimate happens.

She’s definitely done sexual things, just, well, not with other people. Private things. Usually during or after reading one of her special books. You get the picture.

Because of this, and her aforementioned love of romance novels, Daniela has become somewhat obsessed with the idea of her first time. She wants everything to be perfect. The setting, the timing, who she’s with… Hence her reaction in chapter 3 of Serenade. It’s not that she didn’t want to continue, just that the circumstances didn’t feel right. She’s very particular!

Favorite Music Genre: Girl goes wild for an emotional, gut-wrenching love/power ballad. The type to lie in bed and cry while listening to Hozier or Lorde (not that she can hear either of them, considering her limited music options). Doesn’t admit it, though, and mostly listens to indie pop when other people can hear. That and whatever the Maiden plays on piano ;)

Okay it feels weird to joke about her loving music I wrote, anywayyyy

Hobbies: Other than reading there’s not too much I can see her doing, really. She’d be sure to get into anything that her s/o enjoys, though, even if it’s something difficult or time-consuming. Writing is something she’d love, but it’s difficult for her to keep her focus on just one project at a time. Ideally she’d write short stories, romantic ones obvs, and have someone else proofread/edit them. For the most part she’d write within fantasy and historical setting (seeing as she’s got experience in both of those departments).

ADHD, BABY. Bigtime, seriously. Maybe this is just my adhd ass projecting, but I can’t not see her as having it. For her it mainly manifests with hyper-focusing/difficulty staying on task. It’s like a switch with those on either end, flipping back and forth every once in a while. She can spend six hours reading two different books in one sitting, but if someone just breathes too loudly it disrupts her completely. Because of this she’s somewhat prone to abandoning projects. It’s a sore subject for her, and her sisters are aware, normally only bringing it up if they’re really angry with her.

Opinions on the four lords: Thinks Heisenberg is a tool (pun intended), also thinks that he secretly reads super erotic novels. She doesn’t have any proof, though, and would never say anything about it out loud. Just makes fun of him in her head. Doesn’t actually judge him for what she thinks he reads, just judges his personality and the “need he feels to hide his secret”. Loves Donna, and low-key thinks she’s attractive. Daniela mostly bases that off the portrait she’s seen, but, like many fans, also thinks the hands are nice. The puppets don’t bother her, though she also doesn’t really care about them, other than thinking that Donna interacting with them is cute.

Opinions continued: Moreau is… uh… fish boy. Daniela thinks he’s weird, kinda gross, and hardly considers him a “real” lord. Poor boy :(  At least she doesn’t actively make fun of him?... Even if that’s only because she kinda forgets about him most of the time. As for Lady Dimitrescu, well, obviously Daniela loves her mom. The whole family is very close, and as the “youngest”, Daniela gets a lot of attention. Sometimes she thinks her mother is too strict, but at the end of the day there’s no love lost.

Bela:

Cleans up after her sisters a lot, but still nowhere near as much as any of the Maidens do. Often agrees to help with messes in exchange for blackmail material. “Oh, Daniela, what a shame you broke mother’s favorite dish… I could help, but you owe me one.” At the end of the day, though, there’s plenty she would slide.

Being the “oldest”, she’s expected to behave the best, and often feels more restricted than her sisters. Being an example is hard! Occasionally she’ll have the impulse to rebel, but this usually only manifests in scenarios like the one mentioned above, aka she’ll simply be more lenient of her siblings for a bit.

Overall far less sadistic than her sisters. Cares more about the quality of pain then the amount of it. Only ever goes overboard if someone full out threatens or hurts her family. Insults towards them still earn her ire, and will get her to punish someone, but it’s not enough to make her resort to torture. Usually.

Gets the most restless out of the three. As cool (and large) as the castle is, it’s all she’s ever really known. If not for her weakness to cold, she’d go out on hikes a lot. Nature interests her, fascinates her, but she’d be a little less fond of most of it in person. Like, oh, waterfalls sound so cool, followed by a hundred complaints about the noise. Thinks deer are the cutest shit ever (second only to humans, maybe).

Unlike Daniela (though that HC is relevant almost exclusively to Serenade), Bela has actually slept with a Maiden before. She doesn’t really care for them enough to consider it a relationship, instead admiring them for their entertainment value. Definitely could fall for a Maiden, simply hasn’t yet. Of the three I feel like she takes the longest to fall in love, and even longer to actually act on her feelings. Sometimes resents her siblings because they unknowingly “claimed” a Maiden that she was starting to be interested in. However, she fully acknowledges that she should have said something if she didn’t want to lose the girl, considering the situation they live in.

Favorite music genre: Classical, full orchestra style, with a soft spot for swing/jazz. Enjoys having music play softly while she reads, and is very particular about the volume. Absolutely would argue with her sisters if they tried to change the music or turn it up.

Hobbies: Reading, duh. Less interested in romance than Daniela by a considerable amount. For the most part she reads non-fiction books, enjoying learning about history and the sciences. Astronomy is at the top of her favorites list, followed by biology, then obscure (and often bloody) pieces of history. Niche=perfect. Also enjoys music, even if she had to rely mostly on self-teaching books. Knows the basics of piano, but doesn’t actively play, much preferring both the violin and harp. Most of the time she’ll only play if she knows her sisters won’t bother her, or if her mother asks her to.

Opinions on the four lords: Admires Heisenberg’s work/his edgenuity, but thinks the actual man is a temperamental child… who smells like wet dog. He’s only been at Castle Dimitrescu a couple times (per Mother Miranda’s request), and both times Bela moved to the other side of the house so she wouldn’t have to acknowledge his existence. While she would never admit it, she’s low-key creeped out by Donna’s dolls, and really only tolerates Angie. However, she would never act on her nerves, out of consideration for Donna’s feelings. She knows that her mother gets along well with the dollmaker, and keeps this at the forefront of her mind.

Opinions continued: “Moreau who? Oh, the fish guy? He’s still alive?... Good for him.” Wants to make Lady Dimitrescu proud, but not as desperately as Cassandra. Unknowingly mimics a lot of her mother’s little habits and ticks, and would be quietly embarrassed if someone pointed it out to her. As mentioned previously, she feels like she has to be an example for the others, and somewhat resents the pressure this puts on her. On the other hand, she does enjoy being “responsible for” (read: in charge of) her sisters. Additionally, she is the most likely to get away with lying to Alcina, though she does not often do so. This isn’t because she’s the most manipulative (that’s Cass), or the best liar (that’s Dani, if she’s trying), but simply because Alcina doesn’t think her oldest daughter would lie. Even if she doubts something Bela says, she’ll usually give her the benefit of the doubt… as long as it doesn’t happen very often.

Cassandra:

Sleeps the most of the three, if only because she’s the most active of them. Not as fast as the others while in swarm mode, but the fastest on foot, partially because she’s more likely to simply walk places. She knows the sound of feet on the floor scares the Maidens, and she drinks their fear with utter pleasure. Additionally she claims that it just feels nice to “stretch her legs”. But she will not hesitate to enter swarm mode when chasing someone. As fun as it is to smell their fear, she can get impatient, wanting to get close and personal to her target.

Tends to hide most of her feelings, sometimes even opting to “convert” them into anger. In other words, think of her emotional state as an ever-filling bottle of water. As things happen, she feels emotions, and the rate at which water pours into the bottle increases. Ideally if the water level started getting too high, she would address whatever is increasing the flow of water. Instead of that, she often uses anger, which is equivalent to shaking the bottle a bit and letting water messily spill out of it. Doesn’t address the actual problem, but let’s her release some pressure/free up some room.

Goes through Maidens faster than her siblings (yes, even Daniela “draining you of blood is romantic” Dimitrescu). Not all of them even die in the basement, sometimes what was supposed to be a “warning” turns into “oh shit the blood won’t stop coming out, this is how I die, in this accursed castle, no friends or family to mourn me, just the painful knowledge that I will not be the last, I will die for no cause, no glory, just the bitter whims of a blood-soaked mistress” or something along those lines.

While more likely to get attached to someone than Bela, Cassandra isn’t one to do much about it. She might flirt, might even try to kiss (or, uh, kiss while also not wearing clothes wink wink), but she won’t (usually) claim someone as her own, or protest if one of her sisters wants to have some fun with them (even if it’s the bloody kind of fun). Technically gets over breakups and “breakups” (i.e. death) easier than either of her sisters. To be fully accurate, Daniela still goes through lovers faster, but she also remembers them and cares for them for longer post-breakup.

Somewhat of a blood kink. Like, more than vampires automatically have. In intimate settings she cares more about the quantity of blood and what she can do with it (loves bloodstains) than what causes the bloodshed.

Favorite music genre: Rock ‘n roll. Leans towards older stuff, as well as heavier songs. Soft spot for symphonic metal, but doesn’t admit it out of the fear that some might consider it a “weaker form” of the genre. Almost exclusively listens to bands that have female vocalists, and gets crushes on them more than she’d ever admit.

Hobbies: Art! Painting, mostly, but dabbles in sculpture from time to time. It’s been too long since I took an art class for me to suggest a style for her paintings, but I imagine her sculptures would be somewhat abstract. Her art would revolve around emotion, the stronger and rawer the better, with viewers often being left uncomfortable. While Alcina buys plenty of art supplies for her, Cassandra is fond of improvising, especially by creating her own “tools” (of questionable efficiency) out of items she has laying around. She is absolutely the one who took her mother’s lipstick. If you don’t know what that means, don’t worry, it’s just mentioned in one of the RE8 notes that Lady Dimitrescu’s valuable lipstick is missing.

Opinions on the four lords: Tolerates Heisenberg more than the rest of her family by a considerable amount. She’s seen glimpses of his work, his steampunk-adjacent style, and actually kind of digs it. While Bela cares more about the science behind his work, Cassandra just digs the aesthetic. Sometimes for her art she also needs things she can’t get from the castle, and are too obscure to get from a merchant, so she trades tools/ideas with Heisenberg in exchange for him making something for her. “Can you make a battery but whenever it’s in use it makes a horrible screaming sound?” “Yes. PS I hate your mother and Miranda.” “I didn’t fucking ask.”

Opinions continued: Doesn’t really care much about Donna, but acknowledges her as a fellow artist, and would be willing to consult her if she talked more (and talked without Angie). Cassandra hasn’t met Moreau, thankfully (he would cry). Knows about him from her sister/mother, and as a result doesn’t care about him. Internally whenever someone mentions him, she pictures, like, a Goldfish Cracker (the snack that smiles back) with legs except also it’s green and moldy.

Opinions cont.: Loves her mother so much. Determined to please her, to make her proud, but often left feeling less loved than her sisters. This strains her relationship with her family, not that she’d ever voice her feelings and talk through the issue. Let’s be real, Alcina would probably feel guilty for not realizing how Cass felt. Nonetheless, Cassandra probably spends the most time with her mother, often offering to assist her with tasks, or trying to get her to appreciate her art.

[uwuwriting]

Abusive boyfriend w/ Midoriya, Bakugou and Todoroki

Request: Can I have deku, bakugo and Todoroki reacting to the readers unhealthy boyfriend. He brings her down a lot and abusive. - anonymous

Being part of a toxic relationship is so so soooo painful. Thankfully reader-chan has her heroes to save her. Hope you like it. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: abuse both physical and mental, ptsd and panic attacks, cursing, characters are aged up (they have graduated)

Midoriya Izuku

-Okay so he basically was the one who managed to build your confidence back up after the horrendous break up with your ex. 

-Your ex never laid a hand on you but his words were enough to bruise your ego and self worth so much that you believed that you were nothing compared to others. 

-From looks to personality, you believed that even a snail was more worth it than you. 

-Now you are a beautiful girl and very very smart. 

-Guys and girls looked your way even though you were in a relationship. 

-And your ex was having none of it. 

-It started off really subtly.

- “Are you sure you want to wear that to dinner?”

- “We are going to grab some coffee not going out for drinks.”

- “Don’t you think you are showing too much skin?”

-Then the body shaming started. 

- “I think you shouldn’t wear that, I mean look how large it makes you look.”

- “Have you been eating more?”

- “How about I make a diet for you?”

-This really brought you down. 

-It reached the point where you would only wear really baggy hoodies in order to hide your body. 

-After that turning point he still wasn’t satisfied. 

-People, although fewer than before, still had the nerve to hit on you and it was getting on his nerve. 

-He started belittling you in front of friends and acquaintances, destroying your already fragile confidence. 

-He had dug you a grave and sugarcoated the casket with empty I love you’s. 

-He had made you believe that he was the only one who would accept you and love you despite you’re so flawed. 

-And he managed to keep you for quite some time. 

-Then Midoriya comes along. 

-A childhood friend who had become a pro hero and on the top five. 

-He saw how skinny you had become, borderline unhealthy, how you shied away from him and literally everyone. 

-You were like a scared deer. 

-Then the boyfriend came in and everything fell into place. 

-Midoriya is smart, he caught on your boyfriend’s belittlement and the reason behind it. 

-Now getting you out of this toxic relationship is his new mission. 

-You ran into him more often after that first encounter and he always talked to you, complimenting you whenever he could. 

-Your boyfriend didn’t catch on until it was too late. 

-Midoriya had managed to get you to talk about your relationship and what your boyfriend was like, he had opened your eyes to his abuse and helped you built up the courage to stand up to him and dump his ass. 

-He was there of course to support you after the break up. 

-And of course after months and months of seeing each other almost everyday, you two became a thing. 

-Finally you get to experience true love with someone who truly appreciates you. 

Bakugou Katsuki 

-You and Bakugou have been friends since high school. 

-Inseparable. 

-He comes to you for everything, all his troubles are solved by you and you alone. 

-You’re special!!

-So when you get a boyfriend he is the first to meet the guy. 

-In truth he really didn’t want to because he has been in lobe with you for the longest time and seeing you with someone else reminds him that he is a coward. 

-Anyway he meets him and everything is fine, he looks decent and he seems to treat you well. 

-As months pass you seem to distance yourself more and more from him. 

-Bakugou at first is angry, he is fuming I tell you. 

-He doesn’t like the silence that he receives when he calls, or the single word replies when he texts and he especially despises your refusal to go out with him like you used to. 

-He gets that you have a boyfriend now and you have to spend more time with your bf but he still felt betrayed. 

-Then doubt started to settle in his mind. 

-Maybe you realized he wasn’t worth the trouble, I mean he is a difficult person, maybe your new boyfriend opened your eyes and now you want nothing to do with him. 

-Or maybe you figured out he was in love with you. 

-Had he been scowling more than usual while he was meeting your boyfriend? 

-He wanted to ask you what he did wrong but he couldn’t reach you. 

-So he sucked it up and drowned himself in his hero work, drowning his nagging mind along with his free time.

-Then something unexpected happened. 

-Uraraka visited him, worry written all over her face. 

-She was worried for you and wanted to ask him if everything was alright, since he was your best friend. 

- “She stopped showing up to our weekly girl evening and she won’t answer my texts.... I’m really worried for her Bakugou.”

-That was the last straw for him. 

-He went to your apartment and after five minutes of knocking your boyfriend opened the door. 

-The scowls on the guy’s face was really REALLY pushing his buttons. 

- “Is Y/N here?”

- “What do you want her for?”

- “I want to talk to her.”

-This man..... he closed the door in Bakugou’s face. 

-Well closed is putting it mildly. 

-He slammed the door shut with so much force that a mirror down the hall rattled. 

-Bakugou was ready to blow the door open when he heard the shouts. 

- “Y/N why the fuck is that guy here?”

- “W-what guy?”

- “Don’t act all innocent you slut! The guy you are fucking!”

- “I-I don’t k-know who y-you are talking a-about.” 

-The moment he heard your sniffles echo through the door he was inside the apartment shoving the guy away from you. 

- “Don’t you fucking dare speak to her like that, asshole.” 

-You were trembling behind him and Bakugou could feel the sob threatening to escape your lips. 

-Looking over his shoulder at you he spoke gently as if you were a scared kitten. 

- “Y/N could you go get some of your stuff ready? I’m taking you away from this dickhead.”

- “Who do you think you are? That’s MY girlfriend she listens to me alone!”

- “Don’t speak as if she’s an object!”

-You had disappeared to your room to get your things and were now clinging to Bakugou’s back. 

- “So you are fucking him. What should I have expected from a whore like you!” 

-Okay now Bakugou was presented with two options. 

-Option A: beat the living shit out of this guy and most likely losing his hero license for a week. 

-Option B: get you out of here and let this asshole boil in his own defeat. 

-He went with option B. 

-Wordlessly he guided you out of your apartment complex and into his car, drove you to his house and proceeded to help you calm down. 

-You had had one panic attack in the past so he didn’t really know what to do. 

-But he managed. 

- “Whatever he said to you isn’t true. I don’t know what actually went down between you two and what he got into the pretty little head of your but none of that matters. Just know that we are all here for you. Me, the girls even stupid Deku. And we love you, I love you so don’t worry about anything. Everything will be alright.” 

-From that point on everything was history. 

-It didn’t take long for you two to start dating and Bakugou made sure to have a firm talk with your now ex boyfriend when you ran into him at the grocery store. 

-Get wrecked douchebag.

 Todoroki Shouto 

-Toxic relationships is something Todoroki is a pro at this point. 

-He grew up in one so yeah. 

-He sees the signs of the abuse faster than anyone. 

-First of all, you inch away from anyone who starts flaying their arms. 

-Despite the warm weather you always wear long sleeves. 

-And he has seen you applying extra make up around your eye once. 

-He also notices how you always try to avoid annoying your boyfriend, like you take extreme measures. 

-You distance yourself from other males going as far as to avoid him to an extent. 

-Then he sees the bruises. 

-You two were training at the agency’s gym when your shirt rode up your torso and there was this huge bruise right under your  ribs. 

- “Y/N who did this?”

- “Oh I just got slightly injured during my last patrol.”

-He isn’t buying it since he was with you during your last patrol and you didn’t get injured. 

-But he lets it slide because he believes that you know whats best for you and you will get away from this guy. 

-But for some reason you stay with him. 

-For months. 

-And Todo can’t take it anymore.

- “Y/N can I talk to you?”

-He talks to you about what he has seen and that he knows that your boyfriend is doing this to you. 

- “So please, please leave him, get out while you can. Y/N I can’t see you hurt like this.”

-You see the thing was that you had made the stupid decision of moving in with him and now.... you had nowhere to go. 

-If you broke up with him you wouldn’t have a place to stay and you couldn’t start searching for a new place, he traces your phone and search history. 

- “You’ll live with me. I’ll give you everything you need just please please let go of him. He doesn’t deserve you. I hate seeing you so hurt and broken.” 

- “Please come with me then, Shouto I-I can’t do this alone.”

-Of course he came with you, standing in between you and that asshole as he went to strike you when you broke the news to him.

- “You are leaving me for this piece of shit huh? Of course you would you whore!”

-He went as far as activating his quirk, attacking Shouto in an attempt to get to you. 

- “I own you you fucking slut! No one will want you! You are mine!”

-Shouto wasn’t as calm as Bakugou in this situation, punching the guy before leaving the apartment, making sure that the guy got the message and wouldn’t try to come after you. 

-Back at his apartment, Shouto comforted you as best he could. 

-You know where this leads. 

-Shouto gives you the space you need before making a move. 

-My mans waits months before even remotely flirting with you. 

-After a year long wait he finally manages to ask you out. 

-And the rest is history.

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan​ @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @dnarez-mangetsu​ @reinyrei​ @bemorefiction​

[themadauthorshatter]

More HTF Headcanons!!!

When he gained unnecessary weight, Diso Bear turned to Flippy for help, as Flippy was a part for the army, and Flippy accepted, because DB's whole aesthetic made him laugh.

After a day, which left Flippy just about normal and DB sweating and dry heaving, both somewhat agreed that maybe Flippy wasn't the best health instructor; running for a mile is not a warm up.

Flippy does listen to ASMR, he just has a problem with some some roleplays and eating ASMR videos.

Splendid is a terrible superhero, but is still a good guy.

Flaky tried cutting her quills to not prick anything or anyone. Spoiler alert: It didn't work. At all.

Handy and Flippy hang out a lot. Their version of a high five is bumping wrists/elbows(wherever Handy lost his hands).

Don't ask Handy how he lost his hands. He'll tell you to ask Lumpy.

Don't ask Lumpy how Handy lost his hands. He doesn't remember.

Lammy and Flaky get along. They're only on a talking basis, but are friendly with each other.

Flippy is allergic to venison(deer). It makes his skin breakout into hives and hurts his stomach to the point he throws up. It was even worse when he added a bunch of spices in order to block the venison.

Sniffles is took smart for his own good, and often forgets to use common sense because, for him, it's big brain time all the time.

Cuddles accidentally scared Flippy once and got thrown jiu-jitsu style for it, as in a panicked Flippy chucked him a good 20 to 30 feet. Cuddles laughed about it, because while he knew Flippy was strong, he didn't think he was THAT strong, but that didn't stop Flippy from apologizing.

Flaky's really good at hide and seek... as long as you don't follow the trail on dandruff😅

Flippy and Nutty tried having a debate, but it quickly dissolved into a fist fight. It took a lot of people to pull the two off each other, and the two argued about who won the fight before they were forced to call it a draw becore someone called to police.

Remember how Flippy got hit by a truck after he got over his trauma? Well, when he came back, he was so pissed that he sat in the woods and glared at a tree he didn't like. Cuddles, Flaky, Petunia, and Giggles joined him, all sourfaced and disappointed in Lumpy.

They all looked at each other and laughed their asses off, though, because they thought it was funny to see how they looked.

Flippy is a terrible chef. He's used to rations, a quick meal(because there could be a battle going on and you need to be alert), and on the Alex Honnald diet of taking random things and cooking them in a pan for a meal or quick snack.

When it came time to release the soldiers from service, a test was conducted to make sure they'd be okay. Many failed and stayed behind to stem their instincts and some passed with flying colors. Guess which one Flippy was.

Flippy's pill aren't enough to stem his instincts, and it does not help that Lumpy was useless.

When the carnival's open, Flippy and Flaky work there for money(they need to eat) and exposure therapy, and they get to go on the rides and play games for free.

While Flaky worked at the dunk tank, Flippy said, 'hi' and checked on her, because she looked insanely nervous. Turns out she didn't bring her swimsuit and doesn't want to get wet because she didn't bring a towel either; she slept in. It was hot out, and Flippy was boiling, because he usually wears his army coat, so he, out of a shred of annoyance, made her fall in the tank. Flaky called him an ass, but Flippy made it up to get by getting her swimsuit, a towel, and saying they can swap.

Flippy always wears his army 'jacket' because it's comfortable; he likes the weight of it. He has let Flaky borrow it befire she told him to take it back and just carry her, because she cannot walk with half her weight on her back and shoulders.

There are instances where Flippy doesn't wear his coat, and he's more far off and instead wears noise canceling headphones.

As a surprise, Giggles and Flippy got gnome things for Flaky. Flippy got her a giant gnome plush, one almost as big as her, and Giggles for her a gnome keychain, one that fit in her hands and worked as a fidget, and for when she couldn't take the gnome plush out of the house.

They high fived when they saw her reaction.

Flaky has tried anti-anxiety pills. It did not end well.

Contrary to what Nutty thinks, Flippy DOES like sweets, he just doesn't eat them that much because he likes to be in shape; it's comfortable.

Cuddles once had to spend the night at Flippy's because he lost the keys to his house and Giggles was out of town. He learned that Flippy not only usually sleeps on the couch, but doesn't sleep that much in the first place. And learned first hand that Flippy's specialty is an omelet, when it comes to food.

Flippy is kind of an insomniac. He can't tell if he doesn't want to avoid nightmares or if it's because he just likes to stay up because of how quiet it is.

That night at Flippy's was, honestly, the most peaceful for both. They watched the stars, sat in quiet, and just had small conversations.

Does Flippy miss the war? No. Does he miss serving to protect everyone? A little bit. Does he miss being a part of something bigger than himself? Absolutely. Was it all worth it? Yes and no. Would he go back and do it all again, including seeing his friends and comrades die, if given the chance? NO.

He wouldn't go back, anyway; he'd have to make sure Cuddles, Giggles, and Flaky didn't smuggle themselves into his luggage to follow him, and it wouldn't be worth going back, at that point, after seeing them.

Surprisingly, Giggles used to try dating Flippy. She stopped when they tried to be 'intimate😉,' and it got to be took awkward and they ended up just watching Star Trek.

Petunia has better luck with dating Flippy. She turned to Flaky for any useful info, first, like what scents not to wear, how 'fast' she should go, thungs she should be careful with concerning what she says or any sounds that are made around her house, etc.

Flaky asked what kind of lightswitches she had, amd Petunia admitted she had those adjustable and Flaky knew Flippy was going to fall in love with this girl.

I'll focus more on our main 5 in another post.

WHICH WILL BE FREE FOR EVERYONE TO USE BECAUSE I'M NOT PETTY ENOUGH TO ILLEGALLY MONETIZE MY FAN-STUFF FOR OTHER FANS!!!!!

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 here!

A/N: I already know some of y’all are going to be mad, it’s 2020 and twilight needs some diversity, don’t @ me.

* You’re not really sure how you got here

* “This ones done”

* Edward holds out the blood bag to you, carefully pulling out the needles from you beloved Deer, Hayden.

* “Ah, thank you.” You place it carefully along with the others, before lavishing Hayden with affection

* “You were so good today! You’re going to get extra carrots, yes you are!”

* You’re aware of Edwards gaze on you as he disinfects the injection point.

* “You know it’s illegal to have Deer as pets in Alaska don’t you?” The corner of his mouth is quirked in the smallest smirk you have ever seen, and you roll your eyes

* “Tanya got a permit, the official stance is they’re her deer, I just take care of them for some extra pocket money”

* Not that anyone would venture into the “siren house” to ask questions

* You knew people were probably wary of coming up to the estate, even the mail man looked dead scared when he left Irina’s Lululemon packages in the mailbox

* But you didn’t think the locals legit called the manse “The Siren House”

* Edward told you they used to call it “The Witch House” but then, upon seeing the Denali sisters, changed it to Siren

* Edward doesn’t say anything, just moves to take the filled blood bags up to the house

* Ever the gentleman

* You really thought Edward would show up once, figure out he couldn’t read your mind, and retreat into his own moody silence.

* You figured you would mostly be dealing with Carlisle, who would teach you how to draw blood from your heard of deers, and then you would be on your own.

* But instead it was Edward who volunteered to do it for you, Carlisle was busy with his day job after all.

* He shows up once a week, usually after school, and carefully extracts the blood

* Then he puts them inside the fridge and leaves

* You really don’t get what’s going on, if he hates you so much why even bother coming over in the first place

* You’re about to fall into your usual rhythm of handing him the blood bags, which he then puts in the fridge when he breaks your routine

* “Why-“ your head pops up from the small pile of blood bags and to him. He’s looking away, but then his gaze meets yours. “Why go through all this trouble for a few deer.”

* You grin and hand him a blood bag

* “Another vampire might say the same thing to you, why go through all the trouble for a few humans?”

* He flinches, and you laugh. He’s so unaware of himself it’s actually funny

* “For the record, I do it because they remind me of my (Dog/Cat/Pet).” He quirks an eyebrow at that.

* “Your pet?”

* You nod. You’re number one concern on arrival here had been whether your dog was okay, but sifting through your memories of this life, you realized your dog had passed away in the middle of high school.

* “When I look into their face, all I can think about is my dog” you shrug, it’s the same with bears and other animals too.

* “Also, it’s kinda disgusting to drink that blood straight out of the animal.”

* Draining the blood must have deducted something from the taste, you can’t imagine what that skunky revolting flavor would have been like if you were drinking straight from the animal.

* Edward laughs. It’s the first time he’s laughed around you, pearly white canines in full view, the skin at the corner of his eyes folds

* It’s cute, very boyish. You get what Bella was talking about now

* “You get used to it after a while” he shrugs

* You shake your head, no one should ever have to drink that crap

* “Here, try some of my blood” you say it like you’re offering him some cookies you made. You pick up one of the bags, still warm, and he quirks an eyebrow

* This isn’t the first time you’ve offered, usually he declines and rushes to leave

* One time it looked like he might say yes, but then he noticed Tanya and excused himself.

* He accepts the bag, holding it up with one hand

* “Do you pour it in a mug?”

* And so you and Edward sip your blood-Capri-suns in the kitchen that’s only now started to be used

* You sit in the counter cross legged, while he leans against the adjacent counter. Both of you silently sipping your meals.

* “This is really good” he finally says, his blood bag almost empty.

* “Who’d you have? I’ve been trying to add different veggies to their meal to see if it brings out a different flavour profile.”

* He had Henrietta, who you had been giving more citrus too. Partially for flavour, and partially because she’s your favourite

* “It kind of tastes like...fruit punch” Edward recalls after a prolonged minute.

* He seems so nostalgic, you wonder how long it’s been since he’s had human food

* “I think genetics have something to do with the flavour too, the breed from this region all seem to have a fruity aftertaste”

* “I’m partial to deer since they don’t have a strong game taste aftertaste.”

* “Yes! That part is the worst, it’s like eating a skunk” You scowl and he laughs again.

* You know he doesn’t belong to you, he’s Bella’s, in a few years she’ll be all he thinks or cares about.

* But maybe the two of you can be friends until then.

* All at once the moments broken, Edward stands a bit straighter, the smile on his face gone.

* You turn to look behind you to see Carmen.

* Her head is tilted to the side, a smile tugging on her lips

* “You both look like you’re having fun.”

* After that the conversation is pleasant, but it definitely stutters until Edward eventually leaves.

* “I think he likes you” You’re reading a book by the fire, the gentle heat is nice and it sets the mood.

* “What?”

* Carmen’s grinning

* “The Cullen boy is interested in you.”

* You just shake your head. You doubt it, Edwards only got a one track mind for one person. And it’s not you

* “It would be nice if we could be friends though, I don’t really know many other people my physical age.”

* Carmen stops mid-stitch on her embroidery hoop

* “Is that something you want? Because the Cullen’s have other’s your a-“

* “I don’t need you to set up play dates for me Carmen”

* “Understood”

* Edward comes by regularly, to help you with your animals. You’re both always under the (discrete) supervision of one of your guardians (excluding Tanya of course.)

* And with each visit you learn a little more about him

* You find out that right now he’s masquerading as a senior in high school, he’s considering going to college for veterinary sciences

* “Why veterinary sciences?” You wonder if he’s about to poach your best deer and start his own blood business when he shrugs

* “It’s one of the few degrees I don’t have”

* You’re drinking blood-Capri-suns out on the porch, he’s still in his school clothes, including a very puffy jacket

* “What were you going to do?” Your raise an eyebrow and he elaborates “before you turned, what were you plans for the future.”

* “I was on my graduation trip, I was going to college in the fall”

* You got accepted into your safety school with a generous scholarship.

* Edward doesn’t press any further. But you can tell that he wants too.

* Many nights go by, you experiment with you animals diets, have supervised hang-outs with Edward, you meet Carlisle every so often who basically gives you therapy and helps you control your emotions

* Life is good

* But your growing complacency with the situation is starting to bother you

* You haven’t forgotten about Alec and Jane who are still fighting so hard to survive, or the countless others who would prefer this way of life if they only knew

* You know the minute you start being content is the minute the world wins

* So every night -or really every so often, you’ve lost all perception of time, the nights in Alaska are totally fucked and these heathens don’t even have a damn clock. Your only really sign of time is the mail man dropping off amazon packages- you sit and dream

* You think about giving back to the community, about saving your friends, and about dethroning fucking Aro

* You’re only at the beginning now, there’s still so much work to do, but it’s a start

* You hear a noise and your eyes open

* If you had a beating heart it would stutter when it saw Edward standing beside your bed, your hand moves on it’s own through reflex, clutching your heart

* Under the circumstances you would expect someone else to laugh, but Edward just looks confused

* “Are you...sleeping?”

* “I like to pretend, it’s a nice way to end the day” he raises an eyebrow at that

* “It’s 4 in the afternoon”

* “Well damn Edward, we don’t have any clocks in this house, how am I supposed to know what time it is.”

* He does laugh at that

* “Is it...nice?”

* “Yeah, it’s pretty relaxing, kills some time too.” Noticing the curious look on his face, you ask:

* “Do you want to try?” You pat the space on the bed beside you.

* You’re fully expecting for Edward with his old fashioned virtues to deny your suggestion. So you’re surprised that after several long seconds of silence, and a rather pained look, he adheres to your request and lies next to you on your bed.

* It’s a king size bed, so he’s at least three Great Danes away from you, but the closeness still surprises you.

* “What do I do now?” He says, eyes closed.

* “Daydream, or fantasise I guess, about things that happened in your day, or things you wish happened, places you want to go and memories you wish you could relive”

* “What do you usually dream about?” He asks, eyes open now

* “I think about Jane,” the answer is automatic, and you regret it as soon as the words come out. But Edward’s expression doesn’t change so you continue. “I think about my deers and my family too.” Most of the time you’re just thinking about what animal you want to excitement with next tbh

* “And sometimes I think about you.”

* And how glad you are to have a friend

* Edward doesn’t say anything for a long time, and for a second you hope he hasn’t misunderstood your words, you know he’ll never feel that way about you. All of those romantic feelings are saved for Bella

* “Would you like to come to my house sometime?” The questions throws you off, and your expression illicit’s a laugh from him. “Emmett and Esme are dying to meet the newborn from the Denali coven”

* That’s probably true for Esme, you’re pretty sure Emmett just wants to have some physical match with the “Volturi-reject”

* “That sounds fun, sure.”

* Maybe they have a clock in their house you can steal

* Edward shows up the next day in his shiny white Volvo to pick you up.

* On either side of you on the front porch are Carmen and Kate with their most fierce expressions (and behind them is Eleazer who just looks like he’s along for the ride)

* “Where are you going?” Kate asks

* “Our home on the other side of the mountain, you’ve been there before” Edwards got a small smile curling in his lips, and an eyebrow raised.

* “What will you do?” Carmen asks

* “My family’s having a board game night, I think we’re playing monopoly”

* “What time will you bring them home?” Kate intervenes, man they’re not even pretending to be polite

* “Well it’s not a school night-“ Seeing his joke isn’t going to land, he rethinks his words midway

* “Whenever they tell me to.”

* You’re half expecting to get a curfew, even though this household seems to operate without the concept of time, when Eleazer interjects

* “Well be safe, and have a good time.” He slides a backpack up your shoulders. “I packed you some blood bags in case you get hungry, Henrietta’s since I know that’s your favourite.”

* He’s the only one waving as you get into Edward’s car

* The view as you drive is breath taking, the snow covered mountains, abs crisp green trees

* Edward laughs beside you, at your awestruck expression no doubt

* “You don’t get out much do you?”

* You have your nose practically pressed to the glass

* “Not at all.”

* The Cullen’s home is reminiscent of the one from the movies. All light, with glass everywhere. It’s like a aurora, all wavy with no true shape

* “Welcome to our home (Y/N)” Carlisle greats you first, and behind him is... Esme

* She’s not at all like the books or the movie

* She’s definitely not white, you can’t tell exactly what race, but she’s definitely a POC.

* Her caramel cheekbones seem even more prominent when she offers you a smile.

* “It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’m Esme.”

* For some reason her being a POC, makes you feel more comfortable around her.

* Maybe you will ask her to draw up those plans for a proper barn.

* Edward stifles a laugh behind you, and you raise an eyebrow.

* “Emmett is dying to meet you upstairs.”

* You follow Edward up the stairs, finally meeting the family that spawned four books and a movie franchise.

* None of them look like they’re actor counterparts

* For one Emmett is black. And also really handsome, he’s got this Chadwick Boseman look alike thing going on and you’re down for it (RIP)

* Rosalie looks basically the way she was described in the books, all blonde hair and angel faced, but she’s the only one

* Alice is definitely Asian, she kinda looks like Lana Condor

* Jasper.... is ambiguously brown, but it still makes you let out a sigh of relief when you remember he was a Major in the CONFEDERATE army.

* More to the story than someone who was blatantly racist and supported slavery.

* They’re all beautiful, and they terrify you. You’re not exactly sure why, but something primal in you tells you to run away as fast as you can.

* But Edward lightly brushed the small of your back, pushing you forward. Right into the lions den.

* “Hello, I’m Rosalie”

* Looks like they picked her to be their spokesperson, all glittering smiles and flawless cheekbones. She extends her hand, and you lightly grasp it.

* “It’s nice to meet you.”

* It’s surreal to think how you know almost everything about this girl, while you two are virtually strangers

* Jasper introduces himself next, all smiles and quiet gentlemanly behavior.

* You’re not really sure what to expect with Alice, from what you know this girl has seen every future you could possibly have.

* Who knows what she saw

* But when she stands she hugs you

* “It’s good to see you!”

* “Alice, you haven’t introduced yourself”

* “Oh, right. I’m Alice”

* Emmett claps you on the back like you’re an old friend.

* “So, I heard you used to hang out with the sadist twins in the Volturi”

* You can practically feel the tension in the air, even Edward winces

* “They’re not so bad” really, what did anyone expect when they were in that environment

* Emmett grins

* “That’s bad ass”

* The rest of the night passes in a blur. The cullen’s game of monopoly includes some monstrous version where they put 8 different themed boards together and play in teams (You’re obviously on Edward and Alice’s team)

* They also have some sort of structure where they put four hotels together and called it a mega-hotel

* The whole thing blows up when Emmett accused Alice and Edward of using their powers to cheat

* “What do you want me to do, I can’t turn it off when I want Emmett, trust me I would especially when you and-“

* “Oh shut up Emmett, like we haven’t noticed Rosalie has an awful lot of $500 bills” Jasper interjects

* “It’s because you always pay me rent in small change!” She screams

* “Now-“ Carlisle tried to interject but Alice stands up

* “That’s a lie! I saw you steal from the bank several times when Esme wasn’t looking” Alice screams

* It goes on like this until Carlisle Declares the game over, and shoos everyone away.

* “Sorry, I would say it’s usually not like this, but I would be lying” Edward grins and you shrug

* “It was pretty fun and... entertaining in its own way” Edward beams at you, and once again, you definitely feel the dazzling effect Bella described in the movies

* “Should I... take you home now?” You can tell he doesn’t want to take you back yet, and if you’re being honest you don’t want to go back either

* The Cullen’s house has so much light, and you can see the stars so clearly here

* And if you’re being honest things seem to be way more entertaining here

* Edward takes you to a nook which houses a grand piano

* You’re fingers instinctively roam over the keys.

* “Do you play?”

* “Just a bit”

* You’re not the one who knew how to play, not really. But now this body is yours. You’ve thought about asking Carmen for a Piano, you’re sure they would love something that adds to the gothic feel of the mansion, but always cast it aside.

* You’re busy enough with your research.

* “Play me something” Edward grins.

* Alec had said the same thing to you when you were first taken by the Volturi, at the time your mind had raced wondering which piece would impress him the most. Which would aide in your survival.

* But looking at Edward now, you know that it’s not the same situation.

* He really does want you to play whatever your heart desires

* So you play “Love like you”, accompanied by your quiet voice reciting the lyrics

* At some point Edward sits beside you, playing in a deeper key, adding another layer of depth to your performance

* Wordlessly, afterwards he plays a piece of his own, Claire de Lune. Which you know is a remarkably hard piece.

* Still halfway you chime in, your super human fingers keeping up with him with ease

* And so it goes on like this, you play a modern song, waiting for him to catch up and he does the same with a classic

* Like a never ending game of cat and mouse

* It stops abruptly when Edward is in the middle of “moonlight sonata” when Alice clears her throat from behind you.

* “I hate to disturb,” there’s a teasing grin arched on her face. “But if you don’t drop them off, Carmen and Tanya are going to come over personally to retrieve them-“

* You see Edward wince, no doubt reviving Alice’s vision through his ability

* “And I don’t think anyone wants that.”

* You nod, moving to grab your backpack when you overhear Alice say-

* “You never let me play like that with you”

* Edward let’s out some sort of noise akin to a scoff

* “Where did you learn those songs?” He asks when you’re on the road

* Well you can’t tell him they’re from artists who aren’t known yet

* “Personal compositions” you murmur, and Edward grins his dazzling grin

* You talk about nothing but music until you pull into the familiar circle driveway of the manse

* Right when you’re about to thank him for a fun time, he gently stops you with a fleeting touch to your shoulder.

* “I’m graduating next month,” he hands you an envelope which you assume has his graduation card. “I was wondering if you would like to come to the ceremony.”

* You hold the card with both hands stunned, he’s already graduating high school?

* That means only 4 more years until he moves to Forks, and another two until he meets Bella

* And you realize that while time is frozen for both of you until the end of the universe, you’re the only one who isn’t moving forward

* “Yeah, I’d love that!”

* You try your best to smile, but your sure it comes off looking strange

* You don’t talk to anyone, heading straight for your bedroom

* What’s next for you?

[five-rivers]

So first, I just want to say that I love Mortified, especially the arcs involving Ereshkigal and Innana. The whole thing is absolutely incredible, and I'm always thrilled to see an update. Second, I was rather hoping to offer you a prompt I've had swirling about my head. What if there is some sort of research facility exploring "that which is unknown and previously thought to be impossible" (i.e. magic but they don't call it that because people don't really know about magic and ghosts in this AU) and Danny's class is invited to go on a field trip there. At first, everything is normal, but just after the class leaves the researchers realize that their instruments show that some sort of Eldritch Horror is nearby and they start freaking out, but it's just Danny. I don't know where else this would go though.

Mr. Lancer chewed on the end of his pen.  It was a disgusting habit, he knew, but he could never quite get himself to kick it, especially when he had a problem to confront.  

Said problem was, presently, that enough of his students had expressed an interest in careers in ectology and paranormal science that he really had to give them a relevant field trip.  Unfortunately, there were very few reputable options for such a field trip.  The Fentons were unsafe, Axion Labs refused to give tours, the GIW were essentially a government sponsored hate group.  Most other ‘ghost hunting agencies’ were outright scams.  

But there had to be something nearby.  Or at least in the state.  Maybe not something that explicitly or solely dealt with ghosts, but something.  

Maybe...

Oh!

He shifted to sit straighter in his chair.  That would work.  He started typing an email.

.

“We got a what?” repeated Johannsson.  

“A field trip request,” repeated Deer.  

“Like... from a school?” asked Johannsson, cautiously.  

“A high school,” confirmed Deer, sounding rather stunned.  

“Do they... know what we do here?” 

“Evidently,” said Deer.  

“Like, they know we research magic and telepathy and stuff.”

“Yes.”

“And astral projection, higher-dimensional beings, alternate universes, that kind of thing?  Fringe science?”

“He says the junior class is interested in the ‘paranormal sciences.’”

“Wow,” said Johannsson, finally bringing his coffee up to his mouth and sipping at it cautiously.  “Where,” he started, “where are they from?”

“Um,” said Deer, peering at her computer screen.  “Casper High.  One sec.”  She started typing.  “It’s in Amity Park?  Do you think it’s a joke?”

“Ah,” said Johannsson.  “No, that tracks, actually, if it’s Amity Park.  We’ve got some weird readings on file from there, if you look it up.”

“It’s close,” said Deer.  “If we get readings, why don’t we have a presence there?”

“Another agency called dibs first,” said Johannsson.  “We have enough trouble.  No need to step on toes.”

Deer looked up at Johannsson incredulously.  “We fight eldritch abominations from the edge of reality,” she said.  “Is the boss really worried about stepping on toes?”

“Hey, that’s how we get funding,” said Johannsson, shrugging.  “We don’t want to end up like MKUltra.”

“MKUltra was a scam, Steve.  And also mostly illegal.”

“Yeah?”

Deer shrugged.  “Anyway, should I send this on, or...?”

“Yeah, go ahead.  The boss will probably get a kick out of it, if nothing else.”

.

“I would not have told the boss about this if I knew I’d be the one babysitting a bunch of teenagers,” said Deer through a clenched smile.  She jerked on the hem of her blouse, not used to the more formal clothes she was wearing on this momentous occasion.   

“Yeah,” said Johannsson, “but it isn’t like we get a lot of people coming into this profession for this profession.  And they’re kids.  So be nice.”

“I’m always nice,” grumbled Deer.  

“Well, look like it,” said Johannsson, elbowing her.  He caught sight of the yellow school bus.  “Here they come now.”

They waited until most of the students had gotten off the bus to approach.  

“Hi,” said Johannsson, “you must be Mr. Lancer.”

“That’s me,” said the rather frazzled-looking teacher.  “Come on kids, let’s get settled down.  Listen to our guides.  Let them introduce themselves.”

“Yeah, hey,” said Johannsson, waving.  “Welcome to the Edge Institute, where we study that which is unknown and often thought to be impossible.”

“Hi,” said Deer, frowning at one group of students in particular.  Johannsson followed her eyes.  

The trio in question didn’t seem particularly out of the ordinary.  Except...  Well, there was a reason Deer worked here.  

“I’m Steve Johannsson,” he said, getting back on track.  “This is Sylvia Deer.  We mostly work in report processing and assessment, but that brings us into contact with all our other departments, so we’re more than suited to show you around.”

Sylvia put her thumbs up.  “Yep,” she said.  

“Most of what we work with isn’t terribly dangerous, however, there are exceptions to that rule, and we have some classified projects, so don’t wander off.  Stay within view of us at all times.”

“What if we need to use the bathroom?” asked a student.

“Well, that’s different,” admitted Johannsson.  “We’ve got a couple scheduled stops, so make sure you go at those times.  Other than that, don’t go through any doors we don’t open for you and don’t touch anything without asking first.  Got it?”

There was a soft murmur of assent.  

“Come on, kids,” said Mr. Lancer, clapping, “he asked a question.”

The murmur became slightly more unanimous.  

“Right,” said Deer.  She jerked her head towards the building.  “Let’s go.”

“Anyway,” said Johannsson, “this is reception, which is the only part of the building freely open to the general public.  If you do need to go to the bathroom, they’re right there.  We’re going to hang out here for a few minutes, get everyone taken care of.”

Most of the students made their way to the restrooms immediately, however, that one trio stayed put.  

“Hey,” said the smallest of the group, “do you guys hear that?”

“Hear what?” asked Johannsson.

“Um,” said the boy, slightly rocking forward on the balls of his feet, “there’s, like, an alarm or a siren going off?  It’s really faint, but is everything okay?”

“We’d get a text,” said Deer.  “Not to mention an announcement on the PA system.”

“And the radios,” said Johannsson, tapping his.  

“Right,” said Deer, nodding.  “Maybe you have tinnitus or something?”

“Isn’t that recurrent, though?” asked Johannsson.  “He’d know if he had it.”

“I do not have tinnitus,” said the boy, firmly.  “I really think there’s an alarm going off.  Or maybe someone has a mosquito ringtone.  Gosh, I hate those...”

Johannsson glanced at Deer and noted that she, once again, was staring at the children rather intensely.  Mostly at the boy, but that made sense since he was the one speaking.  

“Danny has good hearing,” said the girl, who was decked out in an array of gothic and mystic symbols.  One which, on closer inspection, would probably be fairly effective at passive protection.  

Johannsson wondered if that was the result of research, intuition, or sheer luck.  

Perhaps that was why Deer was looking at them like that?

“Maybe I’m just imagining it,” said Danny, shaking his head.  “Let’s go to the bathrooms.  There’s probably a line by now.”

Once the kids were gone, and Johannsson and Deer were more or less alone in the entry hall, Johannsson turned to Deer.  “Think we should call Detection?”

“Yeah,” said Deer, pulling out her phone.  “There’s something not right, here.”

“Maybe he’s a sensitive?” suggested Johannsson.  “He could be picking up a project.”

“Or maybe he’s like you and he’ll break every piece of tech invented in the last twenty-five years as soon as he touches it.  Or he was cursed by a goddess, like Vicky in Containment.  Or maybe he just has tinnitus and is in denial.  I still don’t like this.”  She finished dialing Detection and brought the phone to her ear.  “Hey, I-”  She pulled the phone away, glared at it and cautiously brought it back.  “What’s going on?  An incursion?  Then why aren’t we on lockdown?”

Johannsson’s blood ran cold.  “An incursion?  How big?”

Deer held up a hand.  “That doesn’t-  You know we can’t detect everything!  It doesn’t matter if nothing else gets triggered, the protocol is lockdown until we can determine- If you had done your job, the kids would still be on the damn bus!”

At this point, Deer’s shouts had drawn the attention and worry of Mr. Lancer and several of the students who had emerged from the bathrooms.  

“Is everything alright?” asked the man.  

Johannsson glanced at Deer.  “No,” he decided, just before the security shutters slammed down and the emergency lighting came on.  “I’m really sorry,” he said, “but it seems like some of our colleagues were overly excited about your tour and didn’t, er, follow proper procedure following a, uh, event.  So-”

The PA system stuttered into life.  “Attention.  A level seven entity has been detected.  All nonessential personnel, please proceed to the nearest shelter.  Repeat-”

“Seven?” echoed Johannsson, starting to sweat.  “Seven?”

“It’s probably a false alarm,” said Deer, putting away her phone and smiling in the way only people who feel very ill do.  “None of the other incursion detectors went off.  No radiation associated with dimensional breaks or anything.  We should still get everyone to a shelter.  Maybe you can round up everyone from the bathrooms?”

“Right,” said Mr. Lancer, who was enviably calm.  

“Is an entity like a ghost or something?” asked one of the kids, who clearly weren’t grasping the gravity of the situation.  “How strong is a seven?”

Level seven entities couldn’t be described in terms of strength alone.  They were eldritch, uncaring gods that tore at the fabric of reality with their very presence, creatures that had no business being on the material plane.  They shed bright magic and dark science in their wake, leaving those unfortunate enough to see them grappling with madness that was not.  

He really wanted to know what was happening in Amity Park (ghosts?) that made these people so blasé about the alarms, flashing lights, and security shutters.  

Wait a second.  

He unclipped his radio from his belt.  “This is Johannsson, calling detection.  Can you describe the signal to me?  Over.”

The radio crackled.  “Slowly rising over the last thirty minutes, peaking and plateauing in the last ten.  Why?  Do you have something?  Over.”

The bus had arrived ten minutes ago.  Johannsson closed his eyes.  “Maybe.  Will inform.  Over and out.”

He looked over at the bathroom where Danny and his two friends were emerging.  Danny had his hands pressed over his ears.  Whenever the overhead lights flashed off, the boys eyes reflected green.  Just for a second.  

Yeah.  Johannsson had something.  The question was, what was he going to do about it?

[somebodycall911onabc]

Some post-4x13 Buddie because ummmm no to everything that just went down and whatever the hell they're doing with that promo. Pre-relationship Eddie introspection, guest-starring sleepy Buck and Chris (how often can I have these two idiots—Buck and Eddie, not Chris—wake each other up too goddamn early in the morning; the answer is infinite).

Eddie wakes up.

The world is a quiet, washed-out hum of static and dim light. He listens to his breath, in and out, in and out, as the room comes into focus. The rhythmic beeping monitor. The rough sheets over his chest. The hollowed-out numb of his shoulder where—

fuck. Where he’d been shot.

Eddie blinks open his eyes and grimaces. He’s probably doped to hell but his shoulder aches like forest fire, like a pain that will consume him and the whole world too, if he lets it. His head feels like someone pumped it full of air right up until the point before it bursts. He grits his teeth and gathers saliva on his tongue, carefully distributes it so that when he swallows, it will feel less like he’s ingesting a quart of sand. He knows this song and dance. He wiggles his fingers and toes and notes that remarkably, everything’s in working order. He wonders how often you can cheat death before that karma comes to get you.

Although he thinks Buck would probably go to bat for him, even against death himself. The heart monitor spikes as Eddie remembers with a vicious and cruel clarity Buck’s eyes on his as Eddie shuddered and collapsed. Buck’s wide, deer-in-headlights eyes, all that Eddie could see, just two pinprick pupils until there was nothing else, just the black, blank darkness.

Eddie tips his head to the side and opens his eyes, unclenching his fists, and nearly reels back when he sees Ana. She’s crumpled in the seat beside him, her chin resting on her collarbone, her long, dark eyelashes twitching against her cheek as she sleeps.

He closes his eyes and turns his head away.

But Ana’s a light sleeper. She was already waking up when he looked at her, roused from the shallow depths of unconsciousness by the change in Eddie’s breathing pattern, or something. His eyes are still closed when she croaks out, “Eddie?”

He looks at her.

“Eddie!” She says, raising her hands to flutter them over his chest, his face, his un-wounded shoulder. “You’re awake! You’re alive! Thank God,” she says, fervent. Like a prayer.

“Guess I’m just… lucky,” Eddie wheezes out. She smiles at him, eyes watering, and he gave the PG-version of his Silver Star story in her classroom but there’s no hint of recognition in her eyes.

“Either the luckiest man alive, or the unluckiest,” she says. “I’m pretty sure a lucky man wouldn’t be shot at quite so much.” She presses a kiss to his temple and Eddie has the horrible impulse to bat her away from him like she’s an overbearing aunt.

God, he’s an idiot. And it would take getting shot for him to realize it.

“What… happened?” Eddie asks, relieved when she leans back and settles into her chair.

“I’m not sure… I heard there was a sniper on the scene. The police think he might be targeting first responders, because how could this year get any worse?” When she shakes her head, her curls bounce in a way Eddie found appealing, once. It feels like a million years ago.

“Chris?” He asks, heart racing once more. She glances at the monitor and then back to him, offering a reassuring smile that does little to soothe his nerves.

“He’s OK. Buck’s with him.” Those three words calm Eddie instantly, like someone turning off an electric kettle, the worry bubbling up inside him simmering to a still. Because it means Chris is OK, and so is Buck. “I’m really grateful to Buck,” Ana is saying, taking his hand in hers, drawing his attention back to her. “It means I get to be here, with you.” She smiles at him like he’s fragile.

Wrong.

Eddie looks at her and doesn’t know how to tell her. How to tell her that the right thing would be for her to be at Chris’s side. That Chris always came first. Chris was the first and only priority. Chris was Eddie’s heart, raw and exposed, just like Bobby had said.

He looks at her and thinks about Chris’s smile, how he lights up the minute Ana walks in the room. He thinks about Chris confessing to him, quiet and anxious, that he’d asked Santa to find Mommy. He thinks about his parents telling him that the proper thing to do was to marry the girl carrying his child, even if he wasn’t sure he loved her.

Chris has been and will always be the most important thing in Eddie’s life. But Eddie’s starting to realize that even with a Northstar as good and perfect as Chris, Eddie didn’t always make the best choices. For himself, for Chris, or for their family.

“Can you call Buck, for me?” Eddie asks, brushing his thumb over Ana’s delicate knuckles. “If it’s not too late. I want to see my boys.”

She hastily bends down to pick up her purse and fumble her phone out, tell him it was fine, Buck had wanted her to call him as soon as Eddie woke up, anyway. He catches a glimpse of a “5” as she unlocks the phone and opens her contact list.

In the early morning, hospital quiet, Eddie can hear the phone ring on the other end of the line. Once, twice. Click.

“Hello?’ Buck asks, voice scratchy with sleep.

“Let me talk to him,” Eddie says, before Ana can get a word in. She hesitates, opens her mouth, but he holds her gaze until she extends the phone to him. Eddie’s hand is steady when he takes it from her.

“Hey,” Eddie says. Buck’s bleary-eyed, curls smashed to one side of his head, half his face obscured by a dark shape.

“Eddie,” Buck says, a ragged, relieved sound. He shifts, and Eddie hears him say, “Chris, Chris wake up, it’s your dad, Chris, he’s OK!”

And then there’s another face, pressing too close to the camera, so that Eddie mostly sees a nostril and some chin.

“Daddy!” Chris whoops, and Eddie smiles, and Buck pulls Chris back from the phone screen so Eddie can see him.

“Hey there, buddy,” Eddie says, “sorry I scared you.”

“W-wasn’t scared,” Chris insists, blinking rapidly because without his glasses, the world was mostly a multi-colored smudge. “I had Buck.”

Buck—who settles Chris’s glasses over his face with heartbreaking tenderness. Buck—who wraps an arm around Chris and scoots them back against the headboard so they can both see Eddie. Buck—who had clearly been sleeping in Chris’s bed, keeping him safe while Eddie was getting several pints of blood pumped into his body and shrapnel extricated from his shoulder.

“That’s good,” Eddie says. “Really good.”

“We knew you’d be OK,” Buck says. “Right, Superman?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause of your lucky charm.”

Eddie has to close his eyes against that. Chris is still so young, still Disney-innocent and honey-sweet, and Buck knew exactly what to say to calm Chris down. He knew Chris’s favorite bedtime story and the playlist Eddie made for him to help Chris fall asleep.

“That’s right,” Eddie chokes out. “My St. Christopher medal.”

“No.” Eddie blinks at that, at the stubborn line of Chris’s mouth. “Me. And Buck.”

Buck looks just about as surprised as Eddie feels.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“What?” Buck asks.

“What?” Chris asks, confused at their confusion. He addresses Buck. “Daddy said that I was his good l-l-luck charm. Because he loves me. A-and he loves you, so you’re his good luck charm too.”

Eddie isn’t sure if his kid is perceptive or just putting together ideas in the way only kids can. But it doesn’t really matter, because he isn’t wrong.

“Got me there,” Eddie agrees. “I must be pretty lucky, since I’ve got the both of you watching my back.”

Buck’s smiling a pleased, sunshine grin. The room is too dark and the connection is too poor, but Eddie would bet money that Buck’s blushing.

Eddie very deliberately doesn’t look at Ana.

“We’ll come visit as soon as the hospital opens,” Buck promises. “It’s good you called, because we should probably get going.”

To his right, Chris gives a huge yawn.

“You sure? I’m not going anywhere.”

“You think we’re gonna be able to sleep now that you’re awake? No way.”

“No way!’ Chris agrees.

“We’ll be there in fifteen. Twenty. Ten?” Buck looks down at Chris.

“Five!” Chris shouts. “The f-firetruck could make it in five minutes!”

“But we only have Buck’s jeep,” Buck says, pouting at Chris. “Definitely not a firetruck.”

“Fifteen,” Chris amends.

“OK,” Eddie says with a laugh that barely hurts. “I’ll see you soon. Thanks, Buck.”

“For what?” Buck asks, ruffling Chris’s hair with the hand that had been draped over Chris’s shoulders. “Be there soon.”

The call disconnects with the finality of a book snapping shut. He squares his shoulders (as much as he can while lying in an inclined hospital bed with a bullet injury) and turns his head to face Ana.

Her eyes are narrowed and hard, like ice over a troubled stream.

“So,” she says, slow and calm, “Buck?”

“Yeah” Eddie says. It’s all he can say. He can’t tell her how to be what he needs, what Chris needs. He can’t tell her to put Chris first like a reflex, like an instinct.

He doesn’t blame her. He isn’t mad at her. He isn’t even disappointed. He’s as shocked as anyone that he met someone who understood, immediately and profoundly, that Chris was Eddie’s world. Eddie had never counted on someone like Buck. And it was time he stopped running from that and accepted it for the undeserved, unparallelled gift that it was.

“I’m sorry,” he adds.

“Me too.” Ana takes her phone back with a snap of her wrist and drops it in her purse. “I’m going to go home.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, feeling a little guilty. He knows what it’s like to feel left behind, waking up with nothing but a note and the realization that you could never be good enough.

Ana gets to her feet and smooths the wrinkles of her blouse, and for a moment she reminds him so much of Shannon that he’s dizzy. The straight back, the self-posession, the tumble of curls swept over her shoulder.

He hopes Ana finds a love worthy of her, someone who will treasure her and believe her when she says, “sometimes our limitations let us know who we are.”

Because Eddie looked at the world like a challenge. He threw himself into it like the world might burn up tomorrow, but he would fight to the last breath anyway. He peeled away honorable discharge and may experience lifelong mobility dilemmas and we know what’s best for him and don’t you know how hard it is to be a single father like strips of old paint.

And Buck was the same way. Buck was I had to do it and didn’t you know Jim Abbot played baseball with only one hand and I’m in. You wanted us to bond, Cap. We might end up real close.

Eddie watches Ana leave, her heels clicking sharp against the tiled floor. At the door, she turns her head.

“I am glad you’re OK, Edmundo.”

“Thank you.”

And then she’s gone.

And then Eddie waits, anticipation mounting, for his boys to bring him home.

[therealvinelle]

Hey,

What do you think the impact of being brought up as vegan would be on a vampire? I mean if you’re non vegetarian then it stands to reason that killing for food is normal (and humans are food for vampires) but if you’re raised to believe killing animals for sustenance to be a sin would that affect you when you turn? It doesn’t seem very likely with the way vampires act in Twilight where it seems empathy, for humans specifically, was just lost during transition (Carlisle seems to be an exception), but maybe it would?

I’m the person who asked the vegan thing.

I just realized that being raised vegan means that food was food to you so it really wouldn’t affect your diet much as a vampire. Humans were not acceptable to for both vegans and non-vegans but they both would probably end up eating them anyways as a vampire.

But what about people who changed from eating meat to abstaining because they grew up eating it and somewhere along the way realized that they were killing for it and decided to stop. In this case, the family and friends of this person were okay with meat but they decided to stop for the animals’ sake instead of a social norm. Would this kind of person be more likely to go for the vegetarian vampire diet because of their card for humans as well? How much of their personality would remain that they could still care about humans?

This here touches upon why Twilight vampires eat people in the first place.

Before I get into that, though, I feel I should point out that what people eat a is not so easily divided morally as vegans = recognize life has worth, vs. omnivores = don’t. Factors such as culture, income, class, social environment, education, health, politics, and priorities all play a part. There’s a reason why your average young and urban female college student is much more likely to be vegan than a rural male seventy-year-old factory worker, and it has nothing to do with an inherent sense of morality. Even then, someone could become a vegan for reasons that have nothing to do with animal welfare, such as protecting the planet, a special diet, or sustaining a superiority complex (this last category will of course never admit that that’s the real reason and you should unfriend them on facebook if you don’t want your timeline to be filled with guilt-tripping photos of smoking factory pipes and sad-looking cows).

But you weren’t asking about that, you were asking about vampires.

So, when a vampire wakes up, they are faced with this unbearable thirst. It’s different for everyone, or at least they describe it differently, but the whole point of this thirst is that it’s strong enough that you have to actively hold yourself back, at great pains, to keep from killing people over it. Some vampires, when especially hungry (newborn Carlisle when a herd of deer ran by) or confronted with a particularly delicious scent (Emmet when he met his singers) or just when caught off guard (Jasper at Bella’s birthday party), appear to lose their senses altogether.

Choice doesn’t really factor in it, not when you’re a newborn, and not really later on either.

Even if it did, we know that creating a vampire requires tremendous effort. There are two vampires I know of that were accidents, Carlisle and Garret. The vast majority of vampires were created as a conscious decision, and even if they weren’t, the Volturi have a law that Thou shalt not abandon thy newborn. And so this paragraph finally gets to its point: most newborns wake up with their creators nearby. And their creator will take them hunting, at a time when they’re not yet able to resist.

And so you have these people who wake up in completely new and foreign circumstances, their bodies not their own any longer, with this unbearable, constant pain in their throats they can’t escape. They can’t sleep, they can’t eat something else, they can’t tune it out with drugs. There is no reprieve. And yes, it does get better - but in those first few fateful months, they’re pretty much forced to kill people.

Carlisle was the exception, and while I don’t wish to lessen the incredible willpower and humanity he displayed when he resisted his thirst, he was in a unique situation that allowed it. His creator wasn’t there to force him to feed, he already knew what vampires were and as such was repulsed by his own nature, and he was sequestered away in a potato cellar, and therefore not in immediate proximity to humans. What he did was still incredible, but the circumstances allowed him to do it in the first place. Every other man-eating vampire in canon was not so lucky.

My point being, for newborn vampires eating people can’t really be called a choice.

Even as vampires learn control, I imagine the choice to continue eating people is a mix of several factors. In bullet points:

Sunk cost fallacy They’ve already eaten so many humans, why stop now? If there’s a heaven or a hell, they know which one they’re going to. Might as well get a good ride.

Humans aren’t people Vampires in Twilight are dismissive of humans more often than they’re not, often expressing surprise, incomprehension, or disgust at Edward falling for one. And I see why they would: it’s a coping mechanism, for starters, to stop seeing the people you’re tearing apart on a weekly basis as someone with thoughts and feelings. It’d be hard not to, when every interaction with a human is spent having to actively fight the urge to eat them. Men struggle enough with seeing women as people because we have boobs, vampires are the extreme version of that. More, a vampire’s human memories are fading, and what they do remember was so blurry and dull. With the sharpened and enhanced nature of the vampire, being endowed with vampirism will seem like more. Which makes humans less. (Relevant meta)

Blood is hard to resist The thirst is a huge problem. Even as vampires get better at controlling themselves, few of them seem to be particularly good at it. Keep in mind that the Cullens are all training to get to Carlisle’s level, they’re not representative of your average vampire. Most will fail when trying to create a new vampire, and they all balk at Carlisle being unbothered by blood.

Blood tastes amazing Siobhan’s reaction when she learns Carlisle has created a vampire of his own is, verbatim, “how tragic - to be deprived of the greatest joy in life.” (Midnight Sun, page I’m-not-sure) And I can’t blame her for it - blood puts out the fire in her throat, and is the single greatest pleasure in the world. Jasper, Emmet, and Rosalie all agree that it’s the thing a vampire craves more than anything. And living a meandering life where there are no milestones, no community, no home, no deeper meaning to anything, the intense pleasure of drinking human blood becomes the only constant and the only thing they have to truly live for and enjoy.

Then you have the fact that most of them have no idea that animals are an option. By the time they find out there’s a door number two, they’ve successfully dehumanized humans, have nothing else in life and the sunk cost fallacy is sky high. More, Carlisle is a crazy monk asking them to forgo their reason for living to go eat dishwater and be malnourished instead, all so that the mayfly humans can go die of consumption instead. I can see why they said “...no?”.

So, yes, Twilight vampires are terrifying demons who turn into psychopaths. But I can’t in good consciousness hate them for it, because they don’t really get a choice in the matter. Their very nature is designed specifically to turn them into this. Carlisle is a freak who makes everyone else look bad.

In other words, vegans are just as susceptible as others to becoming serial killers. If anything, vegans would eat those filthy meat-eaters to save the planet.