#thank god for my boys and my friends without them I'd fully be in hell

[roseymoseyberry]

Honestly I'm being a very brave little guy right now and deserve praise for that

[alastorsfuckassbob]

You're Never Fully Dressed-

Alastorxfem!reader

oh boy everyone's favorite! Please I have never written before, I just figured I'd give it a shot it was 1:35 and I was not feeling sleepy so an hour later here it is, its not edited so SORRY ABOUT THAT- all of my friends are normal and would definitely not proof read this hot garbo!

Basic Plot!! Yikes another song fic i know i KNOWW, the reader knew our good pal Al in her life but oopsies he "left" her (he died duh) and now shes taking a sad hot girl bubble bath to reminisce!!

Lyrics are bolded, past events Italics for the most part.

ALSO Please DNI if you're a minor k thanks bye!! You are responsible for your own internet consumption, so here are the warnings! If you don't want to view that ✨dont✨

Warnings include:

-Swearing

-Violence

-Alcohol Use but not abuse! (its hell duh)

-Abusive Relationships

-Slight Innuendo but not a strong one!

-Angst

The fire danced, flitting left and right. It was different than any other fire set in hell, it wasn't meant to hurt anyone or destroy anything. It was just a small flame, melancholically melting the dripping wax down the white lilac scented pillar. Floral scents were hard to come by unless you made them yourself, it was hell after all, its not like theres a flower garden planted on every corner. The candles single wick didn't produce more than a drop of light. It just flickered every now and then, entertaining its own little lonesome sway. Your demeanor softened as you looked at it from the petal filled bath you currently resided in.

Oddly you felt at peace, understood, almost comforted. You had learned to dance the same way it seemed. You caught yourself when you fell, twisting and turning to please an audience. It was a cruel existence. At least the flame looked content in some way, at least it would never know what it was like to contort under the will of another. Yet it was still a light in darkness, shining for no other reason than to survive...All it could ever do was take, even if it didn't want to, fire needs to burn. To burn it must destroy. You sighed sinking deeper into the bubbly water. You didn't want to think about your past. Not anymore. You didn't have to anymore anyway. Life had not been kind to you and that constant displeasure followed you through your death and into the pits of hell. Funny how suffering could follow biting desperately at your heels and the man who was so "desperately" in love with you in life just couldn't find it within himself to stay...God you sounded bitter. To be fair you were. After all he had ruined your life and he didn't even know it...It wasn't that bad was it? You probably would still be in hell regardless, even without his "involvement" or lack of- you had always been a sinner. It wasn't worth it to be upset, not anymore he's most likely dead, you definitely are, whose to say if he'd even wind up down here. You paused a moment, laughing at the silly conclusion overthinking had led you to.. no that fucker is definitely in hell. Sweet as he was up front, he had a dark side that went much deeper than his soft exterior could cover. You closed your eyes..

1923- Central New Orleans

Suddenly it was 1923. The flower lined streets of late spring in New Orleans. His smile never wavering as he dragged you from store to store. As your dear companion, and biggest supporter, he had asked you to assist him at the radio station. Now that you had finished school you would need a job anyway. You'd always had a beautiful voice and a knack for writing. It just made sense. His hand squeezed yours lightly pulling you from your thoughts. In his hands, he held a burgundy day dress and a matching bow.

"Darling, would you try this on for me? I believe it is high time you were rewarded for all of your hard work. I believe you would simply sparkle in this color"

You smile softly at his gentle tone, taking the delicate dress in your hands. You find yourself caught in his eyes. It feels like you two are the only people on the planet

You feel the familiar sensation of tears on your face, you open your eyes again, you hadn't realized you'd started crying.

you let out the shrill scream you didn't know you were holding in. the fluke of champagne you had so tediously been savoring since you began your bath cracked slightly. You downed the rest of the glass, and grabbed the bottle sitting lazily on the floor. You didn't want to think about him or your life anymore...but it consumed you. You had so many more important things to fret about in your..current..environment. Songs to sing, bitches to kill, people to fuck. A grand glorious array of newer shinier problems, and yet you were stuck sulking about the past. You take a deep breath shaking slightly despite the warm vanilla scented water surrounding you. You remove your hand from the water motioning to the shadow hiding behind a vase (of no more than slightly wilted roses). It slinks forward at your beckoning, climbing to the white marble countertop of your vanity, it clicks the worn down knob of your rickety old radio. light jazzy music trickles out and fills the air with lovesick nostalgia you weren't entirely prepared to let in. No matter what he had done...you would always fall back to him. Even if he was nothing more than ill-fated failed fourteen year "endeavor". fourteen years is quite a long time, even if the majority of it was spent more or less platonically. You really did love him. Love doesn't always follow those that leave, you are testimony and truth to that. You let your mind wander guided by the static filled notes of the radio.

Hey, hobo man

Hey, Dapper Dan

You've both got your style

But brother

You're never fully dressed

Without a smile!

Even through the shudder of the static, it really did sound like him. Despite being the "host" of the station. He had his fair share of performances. For such a Hell bound soul he had the voice of an angel.

You close your eyes once again and allow the melody to take you back to an easier time.

1926- New Orleans, Your apartment

You sing along with whatever tune the radio gives you. You're at peace, simply existing for no other reason than to be with your friend.

"Dance with me my little canary, your voice lights a fire within me"

He pulls you in by the waist. His hands splayed across your hips holding them with a gentleness you'd never expected him to hold for you. He leans his head down against the yours and places a chaste kiss on your forehead

"Alastor" you giggle, the sensation tickling you slightly. "You are quite ridiculous"

"Ridiculous?" he feigns hurt. "My darling I am so far from ridiculous the word does not find sense within my ears" he spins you around and into his chest, you roll your eyes ignoring his antics

"Dearest are you aware you are speaking with the future of radio?"

"The future of radio? Please Love, don't jest. The 20s surely have more in store than you" You laugh into his chest and he shockingly laughs with you.

Neither of you know it but you are both so drunk on the sound. To you, his laugh sounds like the swift church bells that used to ring throughout your home town whenever someone got married. It feels familiar and yet like a distant memory. It makes you want to hear it over and over again until your ears stop working, and even then you'd settle in just fine feeling the vibrations of his chest. He sounds like home. To him, your laugh sounds like the rushing creek and smooth algae covered stones resting deep beneath the trees draped in Spanish moss of his mothers cabin in the woods. Just hearing your laugh he can feel the spotted sunlight speckling his freckled face underneath the big willow tree. You sound like home. Everything about you- it felt like home to him. His hands were crafted to hold soft curves of your body. His ears were made to hear your voice and your voice alone. You were purpose, his home. You don't know it, but it is that realization that sparked the idea of marriage into his heart.

That fire was put out not long after.

You at least had those nine years as his friend, three years as his "copain" if you will- and two years as his fiancée...and so many years alone. You only spent 14 years in the company of this man. You had lived before knowing him a good 17 years, and a good long bit after.

Why were you so stuck?

You hum along subconsciously, the objects in your bathroom begin to glow a familiar pink, levitating slightly in the air as you continue to hum. Your ability isn't weak by any means, but for some reason you were. You were nothing in comparison to hells overlords, especially the newest trio of Vs. Your power is so deeply connected to your voice, how can you hold power when it doesn't belong to you anymore? You drift back to the memory of your arrival. Scared, alone, dressed a great deal less than modestly, and equipped with nothing more than a pair of horns, some wings you couldn't quite use yet, and a thin devil like tail. It was only your third hour in hell. You didn't understand the rules. You were playing a twisted game in which you didn't realize you were just another piece of.

Shock can make a person anxious and fear will make them stupid. He was tall and smelled distinctly of cigars, soured whiskey, and something pungently sweet you couldn't name. It burned your nose as you inhaled it. You would become well aquatinted with the smell of lust in the years to come, you just didn't know it yet. It seemed innocent at first, just a simple contract, no different than a job. All you had to do was sing and dance at a club, in exchange for safety. But it was different and it wasn't innocent. He was cruel and yet no different than so many of the men you had dealt with in life. He agreed to your terms of anonymity and thats about it. You had your private life and his life. Valentino never played fair. You didn't know that yet, and now you're hells favorite sinner, a least no one knew it was you. If he had asked you another day later you would have realized you could have probably fended for yourself, with some difficulty anyway. At least you wouldn't have to be in this mess. You wouldn't be fucking six people before noon. You wouldn't be constantly covered in bruises and scars...Maybe you could have found him, Alastor that is. Maybe you could have at least been friends again. Its silly to hope for anything more since your romantic relationship ended...✨the way it did✨

Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But brother

You're never fully dressed

Without a smile!

1931- New Orleans, The river

The two of you sit beside each other in a small wooden row boat. Your hair is tied back with your signature crimson ribbon. He fiddles with the pocket of his jacket. The Louisiana soundscape of crickets, frogs and running water accompanies your conversation. Fireflies light up the air, almost bringing the stars down to your fingertips. With a buzz and a gentle green glow, the small creature lands on your hand. Your smile leaks wonderment and Alastor can hardly contain the love he feels for you.

As a Radio Host, he is quite agile in the way of words, yet something about you has him constantly at a loss. He takes a deep breath, unsure of what to say his voice wavers as he begins to speak.

"y/n, I want to thank you for the effect you've had in my lif-"

"My love look at the stars!" You didn't mean to cut him off, Your arms stretched upwards your face turning to meet his. The stars were so much brighter then they were in the city, it was only natural for you to be excited

"Yes doll, I see them, they're the same as they were last night and many many nights before hand"

You let out an impatient huff

"that doesn't make them any less beautiful." a mischievous glint hides in your eyes "now wouldn't it be so dreadfully terrible if I got bored looking at you just because I've already seen you before?" You fake a yawn and look at him eyes seething with boredom

"It would be so dreadful considering I was about to propose to you"

There is no other word to describe what you felt other than shocked. You had been an item for quite some time, but you never figured he would stick around (and "seal the deal" if you will).

Tears begin to run down your face rambling small words of agreement and love. You had never expected him to..love you that way. He was who he was, a dreadfully popular radio host, and you weren't really anything more than an assistant. People really only listened for him..yet in this moment, he was speaking only for you.

"I love you so dearly my y/n. If life without you exists I do not want to exist through it"

Who cares what they're wearing

On Main Street

Or Saville Row

1934: New Orleans, Alastor's house

The house was empty. He was gone. Fully and truly gone. It had been a year since you'd seen or heard from him and six months since the birth of your son. It didn't feel like your house, it didn't feel like your life anymore. It was all still his. His things still bled into your side of the closet, his last purchase, a book, dust encrusted and unread. The blankets and pillows set on the couch exactly as you both had left them after falling asleep to the rain the night before he left wordlessly. You found yourself sporting one of his shirts more often than your own...until eventually they didn't smell like him anymore. The whole house used to reek of his signature vanilla smell. Theres nothing left here but dust and the crooked board of the desk he insisted he could build himself "just fine".

It's what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe

That matters

1936- New Orleans; ✨that shitty bar you performed at✨

"Get the fuck up you bitch"

You felt his hand tangle in your hair and pull you to your knees. All you could do was groan in pain.

"I'm so sorry it won't happen again I promise"

You mutter almost to yourself. He rolls his eyes shoving you into the counter smashing a glass in the process. Your vision blurs for a second seeing the glass shards decorating your h/c locks in a halo. You feel the blood trickle down your forehead.

"Do you think anyone else would hire you? A whore with nothing to her name and a useless ugly bastard child from god knows who?" You feel angered at his words. Insulting you is one thing, but your child?

But then it sinks in, he's right. The 30s are a sick decade, nothing progressive about them. No one else would hire you. You are lucky to work here..despite it all. You tell yourself anything is better than living on the streets. The mantra doesn't dull the pain but it makes it easier to put up with. You don't have a choice. You have a child to take care of.

"Get rid of him"

you stay silent unsure if you heard him correctly.

"Get rid of the boy. I don't care if you leave him in a box on the street or kill him yourself"

He reaches for a small silver knife under the bar's counter. He places it against your throat.

" y/n..You won't like it if I do it dearest, besides you are saving him the shame of having a mother like you. At least if he's adopted elsewhere he has a chance at a half decent life" he took a deep swig from his un-shattered glass of whiskey, looking at you with such deep distain.

You had never hated anyone the way you hated that man..But he was right. You would never be able to give your baby the best life. It would never get better because you couldn't make it better. So you found a young couple not to far from New Orleans, they took him in, and he got to be happy. he ended up living a successful life. He still is. If nothing else theres that. You know your own misery doesn't automatically allow others to be happier, but at times its what keeps you going.

Your mind is flooded with more and more thoughts. Thousands of little memories pilling themselves on top of you. Who would've thought, even deceased, even owned by Valentino, even trapped in an ever so violent place, the real plight of hell would be your thoughts. You light a cigarette and get out of the tub. You throw on a dark red robe and sit on the vanity's counter to brush your damp hair. The song continues into a jazzy interlude before it reprises again

Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But, brother

You're never fully dressed

You're never dressed

Without a smile

You stretch out your wings in the mirror, looking at your demonic self. No matter how many times you catch yourself in the mirror, even after ten years of this hellish existence. It still strikes you as odd. You look more or less the same. The same hair color and skin tone, although slightly more grey. The tail was just fucking weird no matter how long you had it. The song erupts into the finale distracting you from your thoughts. You begin to sing along with it, smiling softly. It really does sound like him. The same pink glow takes over the room as well as your body, Your eyes begin to glow that same soft pink, your hair floating above your shoulders.

Who cares what they're wearing

On Main Street

Or Saville Row

It's what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe

You're never fully dressed without a smile

The last line comes out much quieter than the rest. A sense of sadness overtakes you once again as you realize how pathetic this whole night turned out. You'd spent the whole night "Simping", as Velvette would say, over a relationship that ended decades ago. Yikes. The static from the radio clicks up a few notches, You cover your ears at the sudden noise. You quickly reach for the dial in order to turn off the device..And then you hear it. You hear him.

"Dearest.." Its almost unintelligible through the static

You think you've finally fucking lost it. Ten years in Hell and you've officially gone "delulu"...another Velvette saying but it feels fitting.

“y/n.”

He called softly, the static in his voice heavy and nearly unreadable.

You almost didn't believe it.

"Y/n" He repeats the static fizzling out leaving his voice raw and almost natural. Fuck this was real. You didn’t respond. You didn’t know how to. You weren't sure if he could even hear you..how he would respond? Would it be worse if he did? It had been an entire decade since you fell, All of this time- he never bothered to contact you. Why now? Why so much later?... Had he forgotten about you? Did he just..die? You cant discern which is worse...that he had left you and your son and lived a long guilt free life...or that he made no attempt to even speak to you in the decade you had inhabited the same existence.

Ok that was all like exposition and shit..considering part two but I AM VERY TIRED RN

[doeilovr]

《　a fool for you 》

ROCKCT AU

Pairing: Drummer Doyoung x Reader

Genre: fluff, a bit angst

Words: 1.8k words

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

It wasn't your first concert - no. You've been to many, sitting in the audience countless times to admire whatever artist was pouring out his heart on stage. But this was different to the classical concerts you've been to in the past.

This was way out of your usual comfort zone. And funny enough you just now started wondering how your friend had even convinced you to come here in the first place.

Jaehyun was like a brother to you, he was your best friend, always supporting you and always spending his free time with you.

But unlike you he had other friends too, friends that had other interests. They were kind of the exact opposite from not only him but also you - or so you thought.

You held Jaehyun's hand tightly as he lead you through the crowd closer to the stage. Loud music was roaring in your ears, you fought the urge to hold your ears.

"They already started", Jaehyun shouted in your direction. "Just enjoy yourself, I'll be right back."

You stood right in front of the stage, the people around you cheering and shouting in excitement. The lights were still out, only a loud melody was heard.

Finally as the stage lights turned on you saw them - Jaehyun and his friends. Five guys that wore either a little too much leather or a little too few clothes for your taste.

You recognized Xiaojun, who was the second singer in the group next to Jaehyun. And you recognized Jungwoo, who Jaehyun hung out with very often and who was an absolute god on the bass.

Yuta, the guitarist was who most of your classmates - mostly girls - talked about. Actually, now you kind of understood their obsession.

And then there was the - wait did he look at you? Just when you thought your mind had played you a trick the drummer's eyes and yours met again.

You didn't know him at all, but he had black messy hair which hid his eyes a bit and what seemed like a smirk, playing on his lips.

He looked ridiculously good in his black jeans and white tank top.

You were intrigued, a strange feeling was building in the pit of your stomach and you quickly averted your gaze, looking at Jaehyun instead.

The concert went by fast, you could really feel the energy of all the boys and the lively crowd.

After the show as the regular music set in again and most of the people left, you still stood at the front of the stage, waiting for Jaehyun who went backstage to change.

You leaned against the stage, watching the people slowly making their way to the exit.

"You're a new face", a male voice spoke from behind. Almost startled you turned your head to find the drummer crouching down next to you on stage.

"It's not like I've seen your face before either", you shrugged, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. He let out an amused chuckle, silently watching you.

"True." His dark eyes were burning into you and you felt a bit trapped under his gaze. "Did someone force you to come here or was it your own decision?"

You chuckled, looking around the room, "No one forced me, but it's not my usual scene either." You smiled unconsciously, thinking back to the time Jaehyun asked you to come and see him and his band live.

"I wouldn't have guessed", he let out a deep chuckle. You turned your head to meet his eyes, letting out a sigh at his teasing comment.

"Kim Doyoung", a loud voice echoed through the room, making both of you turn your head.

Kim Doyoung.

Yuta walked over to the two of you, Jaehyun right next to him. "Did you enjoy the show", Yuta asked, smirking at you.

"Yes, I had a good time actually", you smiled, Jaehyun shooting you an 'I told you so' look.

Doyoung brushed his hair back, his eyes still lingering on you.

"Should we go out for drinks", Yuta excitedly suggested, throwing an arm around Jaehyun.

"Can't", Jaehyun countered, "I drove us here, so I'll drive us back", he added, grinning at you. You were glad to call Jaehyun your friend, since he always took care of you no matter what.

But nevertheless you felt like you were holding him back from having fun. "No, Jaehyun. You should go and hang out with everyone. It's fine, I'll take the bus."

Before Jaehyun could protest Doyoung spoke up next to you. "I'll take you home."

You looked at him, his piercing eyes quickly finding yours. Everyone around you seemed to stop talking, an awkward silence filling the room.

"Would that be okay?" Jaehyun put a hand on your shoulder, trying to get your attention. "Sure", you nodded, feeling uneasy at the thought of Doyoung taking you home.

There was something dangerous about him, something that told you to stay away.

After a while you found yourself in front of the building, the others having already left. You were waiting for Doyoung who had to grab his bag from the backstage room.

You leaned against the wall just staring out into the night. A few drunk people passed by, girls you recognized from the concert earlier.

A group of boys walked up to you, you could barely make out their faces in the dark.

"You got cigarettes?" One of the boys pointed at you, clearly tipsy. You quickly shook your head, hoping they'd quickly leave you alone.

Of course they didn't and stepped even closer. "Wanna come with us", another one of the boys spat out with an evil smirk. "We could have some fun together."

You swallowed, "no I'm good. Now would you please excuse me I'm waiting for my boyfriend." You lied and you were pretty sure they noticed, you just sucked at lying.

The boys chuckled dangerously, one of them stepping even closer. You tried to back up more, but your back already hit the wall.

"That's very rude", the boy countered, visibly annoyed.

"Are they bothering you?" A familiar voice came from your right and you turned your head to watch no other than Kim Doyoung step out of the dark.

"Can I help you", one of the boys barked, now all the attention on Doyoung.

Doyoung chuckled, making you wonder what the hell he thought was so funny. "Yes, do me the favor and leave. Now", he hissed. You could tell it was a threat solely from the choice of his words. On the outside Doyoung looked as calm as ever.

"And who are you to tell me to piss off", the boy spat back. Doyoung walked past him and stopped next to you, his arm quickly finding its way over your shoulders.

"I'm her boyfriend."

You shot your head to the side, looking at Doyoung in confusion. You wondered if he had heard you mentioning that before?

The boys didn't argue any longer and walked away, Doyoung's staying close to you until they were really out of sight.

"Are you okay?" Doyoung's expression had changed, his eyes looked a lot bigger and sparklier than before, for a moment it even seemed like he was pouting. Or maybe that was just your imagination.

"What? Yeah, I'm okay", you mumbled, stepping away from him.

Maybe it was because you were still nervous about the encounter with these rude boys, but maybe it was also just because of Doyoung. Whatever this strange feeling that spread in your stomach was, it made your heart race and your mind go blank.

"Should I take you home now?" Doyoung took off his jacket, putting it around you instead. "It's cold", he mumbled, "you shouldn't get sick."

You felt torn between these two sides of Doyoung. Was he cold or caring?

Doyoung lead you to his car, which was parked right across the road - he even held the door open for you.

The whole ride you were quiet, not even daring to talk. You felt oddly nervous in Doyoung's presence, your heart was beating fast.

The car came to a halt in front of your dorm, both of you not moving in your seat. "Thanks", you turned your head to look at Doyoung once again, only to find him looking at you already.

"You know, I've actually seen you before", Doyoung explained, immediately having your attention. "I've been to one of your concerts. It was actually a coincidence, but I was glad I took the wrong turn that evening."

The corner of Doyoung's mouth slightly rose as he thought back to the time he first saw you. You were playing the piano on stage, a piece by Chopin.

And although he didn't even enjoy classical music it seemed like the most beautiful thing he had ever heard at that moment. Especially with you playing it.

"I didn't know who you were back then, but as I hung out with Jaehyun I unconsciously learned about you everyday", he explained, "you know, he just can't shut up about you."

You let out a chuckle - that was just so Jaehyun.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again. And I don't believe in fate, you know, but when I saw you tonight I doubted all my beliefs for a second."

You swallowed, eyes blankly staring in Doyoung's direction. "So?" You watched his smile slowly appear. "Are you telling me you suddenly believe in fate?"

Doyoung chuckled, as if he was amused by your question. "No, but I believe in coincidences, in seizing the opportunity. And I'd be a fool to not ask you to come and see us play again tomorrow."

You raised your eyebrows at him. Did he just ask you out? "Tomorrow", you repeated, "yes, id love to come."

"Good", Doyoung nodded with a soft smile, his gaze moving between your eyes and your lips. "I was hoping you'd say that."

"And maybe afterwards you can drive me home again", you suggested without thinking twice.

"I'd like that."

You looked at each other for another moment, before you finally snapped back to reality, waving goodbye to Doyoung and getting out of the car.

You watched Doyoung drive off, unable to hold back your smile. You felt like you were floating and you were already excited to see him again the next evening.

You didn't believe in fate either, but there was something about seeing Doyoung on stage, fully focused on playing the drums.

There was something about him falling for a stranger he saw from the distance one day and falling for the same stranger again some time later - that stranger being you.

There was something that made you almost believe in fate too.

And maybe it really was a coincidence, maybe it was even Jaehyun's work. But maybe, just maybe, there really was a little fate involved.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

a/n: check out the rest of the collab hosted by @johnsamericano :3 I'm super happy to be part of this collab! It's my first one too so it's even more exciting:)

[star-birthmark]

Hello! Welcome to the writing community! I'd like to request a fic (or hc/scenarios, w/e ur comfy w/ 😃) of a "Baby Driver" (skilled, stoic, like the movie 😃) accompanying La Squadra with a heist? Like they were hired to kill a dangerous, really powerful target and they would have people chasing them around so they needed a getaway driver who found themselves entangled in Passione instead of getting killed to settle their debt 😃 hope this wasnt too weird and specific. Thanks!!!

Okay, let me just say this was so much fun to write, especially watching scenes from the movie to learn what it was about. Here we are: 

 Taxi Service: La Squadra x Reader (1.5k words)

You had figured your life was over the moment you discovered that the people you thought you trusted, thought you loved were actually in cohorts with Passione. Times had been tough for you recently. The union was letting people off, and you got caught in the crossfire. You asked your closest friends, family, even, for money here or there, just to support yourself, selfishly expecting their unconditional love and trusting that you wouldn’t need to pay them all back. Your life had countless loose ends, but you trusted that you’d never become entangled. 

How wrong you were. 

When Risotto Nero found your file on his desk under the “debt not paid” category, he sent the job off to Melone without thinking too far into it. Melone sent off towards your rundown apartment, ready to hand you your inevitable demise. It wasn’t until Risotto received a call from Melone only a few hours later asking for backup that you first sparked the capo’s interest. 

“What do you mean she got away?” 

“She chased out Baby Face in her car and I lost track of her on my motorcycle! Get Ghiaccio here he’s faster!” 

When Ghiaccio instigated the second attempt on your life, you knew the months of begging others had finally caught up to you, so you chased off their efforts once again, your sharp turns avoiding the icy assassin. When Ghiaccio returned to the base, kicking the door off the hinges in unprecedented rage, Rissoto knew he had to meet you. Someone who could outrun his men not once, but twice? That’s someone he wanted. 

“This is insane! What? Do you not trust us?!” 

You sat next to Rissoto Nero, filled with sudden new confidence that the obviously powerful man saw something in you that he wanted to cultivate. You leaned back in your chair, smirking at the frustrated assassins before you. 

“What’s so bad about having a driver?” You ask. One of them, an impeccably dressed blond sneered at you. 

“Risotto, it’s just another person to add to the payroll! You’d be ruining the distribution of pay for all of the missions! Besides, we don’t need a getaway driver. We could sneak using the Mirror World, we could sneak out shrinking ourselves with Little Feet. We could get away with White Album. Hell, we could even sneak out using the Grateful Dead to disguise yourselves.” 

Now it was your turn to sneer. You had passed the test like the rest of the angry people standing in that room, you had proven yourself like any other. Staring Proscuitto squarely in the face, you open your mouth:

“I outdrove both White Album and whatever freaky stand Zoro had over there…” You point to Melone. 

“And when your capo first invited me to join your little group to pay off my debt instead of dying, I went straight to the files and looked into all of you. Little Feet’s takes a few minutes to fully shrink someone and you won’t have that kind of time. We already I’m faster than White Album. Sneak into the Mirror World all you want but won’t get you nearly as far away from the crime scene as a getaway car can. And with the ridiculous outfits, you’re all wearing, aging yourself is meaningless when you’re still wearing the same freaky clothes. Now either take my word for it that you need me, or I’ll have to prove it to you my self. Don’t think of me like some little taxi service that’s only meant to steal your paycheck. I’m not a replacement, think of me as a supplement to your stands to help you stay out of jail.”

You couldn’t tell, but Risotto was right behind you smirking to the floor, knowing he had made the right decision. With a heavy sigh, Prosciutto took a step back, admitting at least partial defeat. You smiled. Heavy silence remained in the room until the capo spoke. 

“Good. Now that that’s in order. Formaggio. Proscuitto. Your next target is a corrupt banker that’s been using people’s deposits for his own personal purchases and then not paying them back. He’s supposedly going to be eating dinner at one of the casinos around town. Once you kill him, someone is bound to call the police to chase you down. Hop in the car with (y/n) and make the getaway.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

You watched them get out of the vehicle, Prosciutto giving you one last glance of ‘don’t fuck it up’ before heading inside the casino. You stared forward through the windshield, your fingers drumming on the steering wheel as music blasted through your earbuds. Ten minutes had passed, the two killers confirming that the hit would only take fifteen. You start preparing yourself, changing the gear shift, confirming the mirrors, the gas, etc. You watch the window inside the casino lobby, a woman’s violent scream demanding your attention until you see your two boys walk away. Your focus is glued on the windshield, palms clammy but ready. The two men make their way inside, Formaggio quickly starting to wipe the blood off his fancy shoes, while Proscuitto lights himself a cigarette. He eyes you not paying him any mind while the music blares into your ears, your foot revving up the gas pedal. A police siren creeps into the background noise. With a look behind him, Prosciutto gives you the signal before the car bolts ahead, the two veteran gangsters shocked back into their seats. It was a standard chase. One or two police cars versus the three of you. 

You allowed the police to follow your trail for a few blocks, Prosciutto badgering you that they were gaining. You kept looking off to the side for a sharp corner, ready to make your move. When the first chance arrives, you took it, swerving the car around without reservation, causing your passengers to yelp from the movement. The police were still on your ass as you zoomed through the streets of Naples. Thinking quickly, you make a sharp turn onto the highway, pushing the gas pedal to its limit as you drive over the lane barrier, whipping the car around to head in the opposite direction as the police. Formaggio watched the police cars shrink off in the distance and chuckled. 

“Got em…” You shook your head. 

“We’re not done yet. They’ve got buddies meeting us at the bridge for sure.” The two men looked at you with worry, stunned at your maintained calm in this situation. You squeeze between two cars of the same model as yours, distracting any backup from the air that the police may have supplied to catch you. You stay in the middle of the three cars till one of them heads into an exit, throwing off your chasers in the air. You make it onto the bridge to find a barricade of police cars waiting for you, not to mention the ones that have now found a way to chase you from behind. You squint your eyes looked at the lane barrier of the bridge before an idea captures you. There was a small gap in the barrier caused by damage that was a bit of way ahead of you.

“Formaggio scratch Proscuitto and I with Little Feet, as well as the car.” 

“Wait but-”

“Formaggio I swear to god scratch the fucking car!”

You ordered, not wanting to repeat yourself and yelling it to him. You were being sandwiched between the two police forces, seemingly nowhere to go on the bridge. Formaggio did as he was told and scratched you all, the car and people inside slowly but surely beginning to shrink. You turned towards the wall, ready to seemingly crash into it. Prosciutto held onto his seat, knuckled white from his neves. But you had timed it just right, the tiny car squeezing in between the crack in the barrier while also not giving the police cars enough time to hit the brakes, causing the two platoons to crash into each other head-on in a brutal mortal accident. Your small car slowed down along the side of the other lane, you calmly breathing a sigh of relief. 

You pull into a garage far away from town, stopping next to another car that had been set up by Risotto for your escape. You instruct Prosciutto to age you all, and with a quick growth spurt back to size, you change clothes and head into the other car, driving safely back to the hideout. 

“Woo Baby! What a ride! I haven’t felt that excited by a job in months!” You blushed, finally glad your efforts were being recognized. But you needed to be witty back.

“Glad you enjoyed it. But don’t call my baby big boy. I’m more a man that you are.”

“I don’t know, Baby seems like a good nickname…” He glanced over to the others in the dining room, them all nodding in agreement. 

Formaggio hand ruffled your hair with a chuckle, softly saying how he shouldn’t have doubted you. You watched the two men join the other members at the table for a beer, and you couldn’t help but smirk a little. At first, you were unsure about your powerful capo taking a chance on a taxi driver in debt.

Prosciutto eyed you standing by yourself in the doorway and smirked. 

“Come on Baby. Join us for a beer.”

But you know now, without a shadow of a doubt, that you’ve come to the right place.

[superredcorp]

SUPERCORP FANFIC

"Oh Rao, oh Rao.", Kara mumbled repeatedly as she paced back and forth.

"Kara, slow down. There's no need to be nervous.", Alex chuckled. "Besides, you're gonna crease your dress."

"I'm getting married in less than an hour, Alex, how the hell am I supposed to slow down?", the blonde shrieked, about to run her hand through her hair when she remembered that this had just been freshly styled so instead she went to chew on her nail.

"Yes and it's gonna be great. All you have to do is look pretty, say your vows and don't forget to say "I do" at the end."

"But what if I don't remember my vows? What if I fall into a shocked trance or something? If-"

"Kara, this is too important for you to forget. Don't worry."

Kara looked at her doubtedly. "I forgot my speech when I proposed to her. I just started rambling. It's a miracle she even said yes."

"But she did, didn't she? Because apparently you found the right words to say after all. Even if you make them up on the spot... just speak from your heart, Kara, that's the best thing you can do.", Alex said.

Kara took a deep breath. "You're right."

"Of course I'm right. I'm the big sister and the maid of honor."

Kara laughed lightly. "Yeah. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Probably freak out completely."

"True.", she chuckled.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Seriously, what was I thinking? This doesn't make any sense! Kara should be the one walking down the aisle. She's the one with eyesight! I'm gonna make a fool out of myself! I'll trip or worse, I'll fall face first on the ground! This is insane!", Lena exclaimed panic-stricken, hands on her temples.

The woman in front of her raised her eyebrows in amusement. "Lena, you have to calm down. Everything's going to be just fine. You're going to do just fine."

"I don't know, Sam, I shouldn't-"

Sam stepped closer, placing her hands on her best friend's shoulders. "Hey, look, as your maid of honor who has the privilege of walking you down the aisle, I swear on Ruby's life that I won't let you fall, alright? And even if I should miraculously not be able to prevent you from tripping and falling... there's a whole crowd of superheroes out there, isn't there? I'm sure one of them will have mercy on you and catch you. If it's not Kara herself. Or your superdog here", Sam said with a chuckle and Krypto who had peaceful been laying a few feet away raised his head curtly to bark happily. Sam and Lena both laughed a little. Sam squeezed Lena's shoulders. "So just take a deep breath."

Lena complied and nodded. She smiled a little. "Thank you."

"Anytime.", Sam grinned. "Now come on, we still have to finish your hair."

Lena nodded again and let the other woman guide her away to style her hair.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Kara stood nervously at the front, eyes glued on the path which Lena would be walking down on any minute now. They were having their wedding outside as they both weren't connected to the church too much - Lena because she wasn't baptised and Kara because her god was Rao.

Kara's heart was beating rapidly against her chest as her eyes scanned the crowd - so many different kind of people.

There were the obvious ones - her friends and family, going from J'onn, Kelly, Nia and Brainy to Eliza, Clark, Lois and their boys. Ruby was seated next to Kelly, not really knowing anyone as Alex stood at the front next to Kara since she was maid of honor and Sam would be walking Lena down the aisle as well as staying there. Since she was her maid of honor.

Even Alura and a few close friends from Krypton had made their way to Earth for this.

There were the other heroes and their accompanies - Barry, Iris, Cisco and Co, Felicity and Mia, the Legends, even Kate.

And so many more. So many people in front of which she could possibly embarrass herself.

She closed her eyes, trying her hardest to control her breathing.

Her eyes quickly shot open when she heard the music starting to play.

She held her breath and only released it when she saw Lena appear at the end of the path. All the tension seemed to fall from her body just as it had when she had heard her agreeing to marry her.

She felt a soft smile spread across her lips as she watched Lena walk towards her, arm tightly secured around Sam's.

Krypto walked a few feet behind them, head held high and excitedly wagging his tail. He carried a small pillow between his teeth on which the rings were placed. Making him probably one of the most adorable ring bearer's of all time.

Lena seemed to relax as well when her hands finally glid into Kara's and she was gently pulled in front of her.

Sam took her place at the side.

Kara couldn't help but stare at Lena, a goofy but dreamy grin on her face - her beauty really was beyond compare.

She unconsciously rubbed over the back of Lena's hands with her thumbs, making the brunette smile.

Neither of them really took notice of what was being said. They were totally lost in each other.

Kara just barely recognized her cue for saying her vows.

She cleared her throat and giggled nervously. But one look into Lena's face calmed her again. She concentrated fully on her.

"There are a lot of things I love about you. One of the things I love most though is that you are inherently good. I knew that from the moment I met you. It wasn't a hunch, I just knew. You... you basically radiated light and optimism and you still do. Despite everything you went through and despite the world trying to bring you down so many times, you... you never give up. You always get back up again and you're ready to prove yourself once more, no matter if people will believe you or not. I admire that about you. I really do and... and you transfer that onto me. You give me hope and faith. I know... I know there's times where you doubt yourself. Seriously doubt yourself but I promise I will always be there by your side to remind you of what you already know deep down. To build you back up again and to give you strength. Just like you give me strength. You make me so strong, Lena, you... You're my yellow sunlight."

She could see the tears glistening in the Luthor's eyes. She wore sappy smile on her lips as well as blushed cheeks.

"Well, it's gonna be hard to compete with that.", Lena exclaimed with a chuckle.

Kara laughed quietly and she heard a few sympathetic laughs from the crowd as well.

She took a shaky breath.

"It's not a secret that... it's hard for me to trust people. I've been betrayed many times over the years and it... it stuck with me. It made me do things I'm not proud of and things I regret doing. But... the best thing I could have possibly done was let you in. It was impossible not to let you in - with your kindness, your warmth... your incredibly goofiness.", Lena smiled. Kara blushed and chuckled. "So when I thought you betrayed me, I lost it. I... I was so used to being betrayed for selfish reasons, that I didn't realise someone might lie to me to protect me. It wasn't something I deemed possible. But it is. You... you stood by me in times where no one else did. Saved me when I thought all was lost. The truth is I only get back up because I know you'll be there to have my back. To catch me in case I fall again. You always did. Especially now. I... I may have lost my eyesight but it feels like I can see more clearly than ever before. Because you're there to guide me through. You... You're my light in the dark."

[bowieemeddow]

TRINITY. (Queen Fanfiction)

Part 1 // Runaway.

Summary: Margaret McCullugh comes to the realisation that her life is a total mess. After an argument she realises she’s had enough; she grabs her bags and runs away.

Note:Hi guys this is the first chapter of my new fanfiction. I’m not the best writer and this is my first time so please go easy on me; there will be grammar and spelling mistakes throughout this chapter. Feedback will be greatly appreciated 🙂

Warnings; Swearing, sexual assault, bad writing, slight Scottish slang (I’m from Scotland and I write the way I talk sorry 😉✌🏻)

Enjoy.

Thursday // May 1970

"I've never wanted to punch him in the face more in my life than at this point of time." I thought to myself as I glared at him across the dining table. Even from what felt like a mile away; I could still see that smug look on his Greg's face.

"Margret! Are you even listening to me?" I tore my focus from my bastard of a step father to my bastard of a mother. "You'll be meeting Thomas next thursday remember. To talk about arrangements."

Ah Thomas Russel. Son to a millionaire family; him being a successful doctor in the making at 22 and is apparently a distant relative of some foreign royal family (to be fair I wasn't listening to the shit leaving my mothers mouth)

The cherry on top of it all; I've never actually met the boy and I'm his fiancé.

"Poor Thomas." Gina; my younger sister mumbled under her breath while eating her dinner.

"Mind your own business you little shit!" I spat kicking her harshly under the table. Believe me I know this makes me look bad but I promise you I'm not a bad sister; I was actually excited when I found out I had another sibling on the way. I loved her even when she was a newborn. It was when she started talking; she turned into a sneaky little bully and mummy's favourite.

"That's enough don't you dare kick your sister again!" She snapped at me.

I cringed at my mothers comment; more because of the way she said it. Trying to act as posh as possible; trying to mask the natural Glaswegian accent she's had her whole life; the same thick apparently "rough" accent I also have yet Gina never developed it as bad as me, my dad had the rough accent and I was a daddy’s girl... before he left us.

"Why do I have to marry him. I didn't him pick him, hell I haven't even met him! Marrying me off to becoming nothing but a trophy wife? Fully dependable on my husband with a big empty house full of loads of children. Nothing to do except cooking and cleaning-"

"Can we please change the topic?! I don't feel like sending you upstairs again." My mum sighed

"Oh mother!" Gina exclaimed making me jump; her bloody voice goes right through me.

"This dinner is absolutely amazing!" I chuckled to myself quietly, Gina is so far up mums arse it's embarrassing.

"Thank you darling I made it myself."

Yeah right did she make this shit, she doesn't even know how to use the stove, it was the cook that made it. All of it is vegan since "meat is the reason why your acne is so bad and you've starting to lose that figure Margaret, you simply don't take proper care of yourself."

“Oh god I forgot! I was meant to take you bra shopping today.” Mum informed Gina

“But she’s only 13 mum. I never got my first bra till I was 15?” I argued, Gina got everything she wanted without having to even lift a finger.

“You should go with them Margaret. You wear too small a bra better go up a size sweets." He smirked away as he took a drink of his wine that's likely more expensive than everything I own.

At that point I was so pissed off I grabbed the closest thing to me which was a potato from my plate funnily enough and threw it at his head. If I wasn’t so pissed off I think would’ve found it difficult to keep a straight face.

Friday// May 1970

While sitting in period 7 English I thought back to last night.

After successfully hitting Greg's big head with a potato for his inappropriate comment about his step daughter's breasts; Mum took his side and got sent upstairs without eating anything for the rest of the night; not like I wanted to eat any of that shit anyway.

"God he's so cute!" The girl next to me squealed to her friends who were both in front of her; their chairs turned from their tables to form a circle that I was sadly apart of. I wasn friends with the three girls; Tracey, Yasmine and Gemma were the popular girls, the best housewives in the making.

I looked down at the newspaper which Tracey had in her hands, it was crumpled up due to her "fan girl" moment taking over her senses.

"The Gregory Special." The newspaper was called;

Only rich wankers read it.

"Thomas Russel is ready to settle down but who's the lucky girl?"

It said with a picture of the boy himself below it . Wasn't his best picture; he was probably flirting with some random girl in while the photo was being taken.

"So who is the bitch huh?" Gemma spat as Tracey read away at the newspaper trying to figure it out.

"YOU! Mrs Reynolds wants to see you in her office.” My English teacher shouted pointing at me it made the three girls jump back to their original spots as if they were actually listening to the lesson.

Shit what have I done now; I usually lose track at this point.

While putting my things in my bag I looked over at the three girls to see them scanning back through the newspaper frantically to find out who the "lucky woman" was.

I accidentally let out a chuckle of sympathy which caught their attention.

“I’m sorry, is there something you want to say?” Jemma snapped.

"Yeah I do actually since you three can't read for shit. Page 24." I sassed back and waited a moment.

"Margaret McCullugh? Who the bloody hell is that?!" I rolled my eyes at the stupidness.

"Margaret McCullugh. Now." My teacher shouted across the classroom which I nodded to standing up and grabbing my bag and coat with a grin on my face.

The three girls had their mouths wide open once they put two and two together; it was me.

"Bye girls." I whispered chuckling while leaving the classroom.

...

"Please tell me you are joking Miss McCullugh?" Mrs Reynolds pleaded with me

"What's wrong with what I want to do once I leave here?" I argued back.

"Your mother is a politician; she could bloody well be the prime minister in a several years time. How is she gonna get there with her child wanting to do.... textile design?" She gagged at the though of me becoming something that wasn't a doctor or lawyer.

"Why does it fucking matter anyway I can't even do what I want. My mums already set up my whole life." I argued back slouching in my seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

Fuck being ladylike.

"Ah your talking about your engagement with Thomas Russel. Your mother wants you to just be okay, she's worked hard for where she is right now and it was a risky thing she done to get there. She doesn't want you taking any risks when you go onto be a politician or a lawyer-"

"Or a textile design artist." I corrected for her not giving in to her manipulation.

"Margaret I know you okay. Through these past 6 years that you've been in this school you've been very strong willed and feministic attitude to social issues and topics."

"Damn right-"

"But I'm sorry to burst your bubble but this is a patriarchal society we are living in. Woman will not change society. Ever."

I was beyond pissed at this moment of time. I shot up off my seat and slammed down both my hands on her desk in order to shut her up.

"Fucking watch me then!”

...

Saturday // May // 1970

"Hey chickadee." Tana smiled as she came into one of the private rooms of the pub, she lifted my feet and plopped herself next to me in the booth then put my feet back down to they were resting on her lap.

"Hi." I said stretching slightly as I shut my notebook over immediately and set it down on the table.

Tana was probably one of my only friends at this point of time; the moment she turned 19 she was allowed to decorate her parents bar; to which she called me up and asked to borrow my creative mind for help. Before it was just an old looking bar where young ones likes to hang out; now it was a modern neon, rock music bar.

"Glam Rock" it was called and it was placed in a more poverty ridden area of Glasgow. If my mum found out I was here I'd get murdered.

Every Saturday night people from everywhere would come here and celebrate a new "generation" as they called it.

"This new rock generation is gonna grow everywhere. Where men dress like women and women dress like men. Completely and utterly flamboyant!" I remember Tana saying to me when I first came across this bar; it was a Saturday morning and she was getting ready for a party. I was here because I was trying to find the record shop since they sell limited editions for half off.

"We just need someone to spread Glam Rock to every corner of the world."

"HELLO EARTH TO MARGARET!" She shouted snapping her fingers in front of me.

"Huh?" I said snapping back to reality.

"I said were you writing something?" She said pointing to my notebook, I didn't answer yet again because I was too busy admiring what she was wearing.

"For fuck sake! Have you took something?" She laughed trying to get my attention again.

"Sorry, sorry just had a long day. Thinking about what kind of punishment I'll get this time once I make my way home." I chuckled

"Anyways what did you say again?"

"Writing songs... oh and you've also got your camera."

"When am I not writing songs or taking photos Tana?" I said sitting up to grab my vodka and lemonade and down it.

"That's very true. So, let's see what photos you took." She said as she pulled off her slip on heels so she could fold them in a basket.

I put down the two photos I took on the table.

"Have you got a pen." I asked her as she admired the photos.

"Umm.. yeah I think somewhere in they drawers." She said turning her head to the left to show me where it was.

"This bar does look fucking amazing, you have to admit it."

"It's because I decorated it Tana. I hate to toot my own horn here but I'm fucking brilliant at decorating." I laughed as I took one of the photos and wrote the location and date behind it; then done the same with the other.

"You're good at everything you do it does my head in." Tana complained with a groan as she ran her fingers through her black long curly hair.

"I'm not."

"You are. You can paint, you create these amazing clothes, you can play the piano like no one else. You're an amazing singer..." my smile dropped as I grabbed both the photos from Tana's grip and stuck them in my bra for safekeeping before sticking the the pen back in the drawer; the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop, or more like you could here me slamming the drawer shut.

"Maggie-"

"I'm not a singer." I said interrupting her.

"Correction, your mum says your not a singer. But frankly love, you're  the best singer I've ever heard. You should join a band."

"That'll never happen."

....

Sunday // May 1970

Walking up the driveway of my massive house barefoot with my heels in my hand, my make up and hair a mess I knew I was in for it.

I accidentally fell asleep at Tana's last night and now it's 8am in the morning.

I walked in the house and shut the door behind me.

"MARGARET BEATRIX MCCULLUGH!" I heard my mum screech as the sound of her heels became louder and louder.

"God don't say my middle name." I cringed with my face scrunched up; a massive migraine was starting to take its toll on me.

"Where were you?" She shrieked once again; I'm starting to see stars with how bad my freaking headache is. It's way to bright in this house.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep at Tana's I should've called you it's my mistake I won't let it happen again."

One thing to know about me; when I'm in the wrong I apologise.

One thing to know about my mum; she throws my apology right back in my face and calls me immature.

"TANAS!" She started to trail behind me as I clumsily made my way up the stairs to my bedroom door. Once I reached the door I got an overwhelming feeling that I was about to vomit so I stopped for a moment to calm myself down.

I leaned my forehead against the cool marble that the whole house was made from to cool myself down.

"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU! NO GOING TO ROCK GLAM, NO DRINKING, NO KISSING RANDOM GIRLS OR BOYS."

She caught a glimpse at my notebook; purple velvet and green floral exterior. She knew exactly what it was and snatched it from my hand.

"Hey!-"

"AND NO MAKING SONGS. NO SINGING SONGS I TOLD YOU NOT TO SING OR WRITE THEY DIRTY LYRICS."

I snatched the book from her and held it right to my chest. This book was my lyrics, my ideas, my thoughts, feeling. My whole life.

"ITS CALLED ROCK MUM! Get with the times, it's the Beatles that are popular now, not fucking hymns." I snapped as I walked into my room. Before I got the chance to shut the door over she was already invading my space.

"I don't give a shit what it's called. Stop it okay! That part of your life is over. It's time to grow up and face reality. You are engaged-"

"I'm not marrying him you can fuck right off." I looked at her through my full length mirror as she walked up to me. Her expensive heels clicking against my flooring as she walked closer to me.

"You're an ungrateful human being you know that. I found you a man; a millionaire who can take care of you for life you won't have to work a day in your life-"

"Yeah that's what I'll do, I'll go right ahead and marry a man I don't marry so that I'll birth all his kids and be his perfect dumb trophy wife for life. You worked hard to get where you are, why can't I work hard in something I wane you do. I don't need a man to do that." I said smothered in sarcasm making my mother roll her eyes.

"You and your bloody pride. Here's the real world Margaret; a woman's purpose main purpose in life is to get married and as the bible preached, have children. You'll never be anything different." She spat.

"You're going to the Russel's household on Thursday morning  for you to plan the wedding with your fiancé with a big bloody smile on your face you hear me?"

I chuckled softly as I walked up so our faces our almost touching; her Chanel No.5 tickling my nose.

"I'd love to see you try." I spat in her face. I suddenly gasped as her hand connected with my cheek forcing my face to the side as my cheek started to warm up almost instantly.

"I hate you, you're not my daughter you know! I should've aborted you when I had the chance you know that! If it killed me oh well, as long AS YOU WHERE NEVER BORN." She screamed in my face, she turned to leave my room to meet Greg leaning against the door frame.

"Are you okay Darling?" Greg asked my mum; his voice all sweet and soft making my scoff and roll my eyes.

She ignored him and left in anger.

"Would you get the fuck out of my room?!" I asked, his head snapped from watching my mum as she made her way down the landing and down the stairs to me.

"Seems you need to be put in your place a bit huh?" He asked as he walked up to me, so close to my face I could feel his breath hit my skin.

"I don't see the bad thing about being a trophy wife Sweets? You'd be a damn good one anyway."He chuckled as he looked at me up and down licking his lips. His hands were resting on my arse ready to give it a spank. A sudden spur of anger and confidence caused me to push him back.

"Touch me again and I swear I'll rip your tongue out."

"You don't have the guts." He simply said before leaving the room.

He's right I didn't have the guts, I didn't have the guts to go to the police and ruins my mother's career that she worked so hard for when it got out to the media that her husband is a child molester.

So Ive kept my mouth shut for years.

I feel hot years fill my eyes, I take a long deep breath in an attempt to calm myself down while looking up at the ceiling to try and stop the crying; I didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

That's when I found myself packing a suitcase, grabbing my passport, some money I had. A couple of outfits to keep me going two or three weeks.

I grabbed my notebook, my Polaroid camera and my box full of Polaroid's and squashed it all into one massive suitcase.

I had to leave the rest so I could move quickly.

___

An hour later my family left to go out for lunch without me. I sat at the window and watched them leave.

I watched them get smaller smaller until eventually I couldn't seem them at all.

I would never see them again.

I grabbed my suitcase, grabbed the keys to my mums car and fucked off out of there with the intention of never returning again.

_____

I just had to put Harry Styles in there somewhere.

Sorry not sorry 🤪😩

[ma-gic-gay]

A few hours (and ice cream cones) later, Donna leaves to go to the Q's to play with Wiley and Ophelia. "I finally found a dress. It took three stores and way too many dresses that fit like crap but I've found one and I'm ready for the Ball tomorrow," Carly says excitedly when she finds him in the park. "I ditched the guards hours ago."

Of course she did. He rolls his eyes. She's going to get kidnapped again or something as a part of some new competitors revenge on him and she ditches guards. The mob is not a friendly business but leave it to her to forget that, less than six months after her kidnapping and rape. Only Carly. "Stop ditching guards."

"Well I've got you to protect me," she argues, smiling. When his expression doesn't change, she relents, "Fine. I'll take the guards when I'm not with you."

"Thank you," he says. "Donna's with Wiley and Ophelia at the mansion."

"So long as Nina's not there, I'm fine with it." Not this again. "Don't roll your eyes or tell me to play nice, Jason! She wants me arrested and she's acting like Nelle wasn't a terrible person! I don't care if she's Wiley's other grandmother."

Sometimes, Carly's exhausting to deal with.

He rolls his eyes again as she rests her head on his shoulder. "You know, Joss has been complaining lately she's feeling stuck in Port Charles. Which is stupid but it reminded me that I've never taken her to Florida, or any of the kids besides Michael and now I want to. So you coming with me or am I bringing guards?"

The last time they went to Florida, Michael was barely one. It was to officially bury Virginia and it was a very bittersweet experience to see Florida for the first time and also be packing up the house of a dead woman.

"Who exactly are you bringing?" Carly cheers when he agrees to go without agreeing fully.

"Donna, clearly. And I'll bring Joss and, do you think that Ava will let me bring Avery? Michael should go too, he spends way too much time cooped up in that house or at Aurora, so him, Willow, Wiley and Ophelia. Ooh, you should bring your kids! Scout and Danny will have fun in Florida and I'm sure Jake would love it. Well, of course, that involves Elizabeth letting you take him. Maybe if we bring Cameron too- well actually, no, that won't work because him and Joss broke up a few weeks ago and it's still way too raw for her. I'd suggest we bring Dante but he broke Lulu's heart so that's a big no, I don't care if he's my children's brother. Should we bring Brando and Sasha?"

She's rambling excitedly about this trip that seems to double in size each minute and he chuckles to himself at the absurdity of it. Somehow, within five minutes, Carly's built herself an entire vacation to Florida. Complete with exactly when they should go ("The third week in June! It shouldn't be too rainy or humid yet,") and how long they should stay (a week, she's decided). This woman owns an island and insists on going to Florida for a week so her kids can see her old home.

Before he can figure out what's happening, someone has taken him hostage, his hands inexplicably behind his back and he notices that another one of the surprise humans has taken Carly hostage. Fuck. No. He can't fight this guy, somehow he's too strong. And he can't reach for his gun because he's got his hands tied behind his back! Which means she's getting kidnapped and so is he.

Of course, the same thing is happening to Carly, but the dude who grabbed her is underestimating her gravely. She's got enough sense to try and kick him in the balls (so that's why she always wears heels) before settling for a good slap or two to wherever she can reach moments before her hands are tied as well.

He's basically fucked. And so is she.

"Let me go or so help me god-" Carly threatens before they put a gag in her mouth which she does her best to spit out. Fucking hell, these people are terrible.

"Let her go," he demands, feet unrooting themselves from the ground as he desperately tries to break out of this hold.

"How sweet, he's willing to sacrifice himself for his girlfriend. Touching, truly. Not going to work, however, Morgan. Enough of the touching goodbye, you better stop fighting if you want to see her alive again," his goon threatens. This guy sounds like one of Cyrus's old guys. Cyrus is behind this. Which means-

Carly comes to the conclusion at the same time he does and spits out her gag (impressive). "You better have a damn good excuse for this."

The goons don't even bother threatening them, they just drag them apart and Jason gets dropped in the back of some truck before he gets knocked out. His last conscious thought is where the hell Carly is and where he's going.

A few hours later, he wakes up, disgusted by the surroundings he's found himself in. He's handcuffed to a chair with his legs and his hands. And there's no blonde in here with him, he realizes. At the very least, he senses that they haven't took his jacket off or phone or gun from him. "Good, you're awake." Who's voice is that? He recognizes it from somewhere.

"Where is she?" He asks instead of worrying about his own surroundings.

"Your concern for her is really quite touching, but your girlfriend is fine," the dude says again, yet another voice he remembers but can't trace.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Sure, you just sleep together, live together and act like a married couple. Oh, wait, is she your wife? That would make more sense," the voice says. Who's voice is that? It's on the tip of his mind but he can't remember.

"Very funny. We're not married. Now, tell me, where the hell is Carly?"

"Calm your tits," that's a stupid expression, "she's being well taken care of. Let yourself worry about you for a minute, please. Your relationship with her is..."

"None of your business. I need proof she's okay." Why the hell aren't his demands being met? Who is this?

"Protective, how sweet. Answer the question."

"She's my best friend," he answers calmly. "Got any more questions or do I get proof she's okay and alive?"

"You don't sleep with a best friend, Jason." Shut up, they're not labelling things and this has nothing to do with the damn kidnapping!

"And who are you to judge us?" Mouthing off to a kidnapper, great idea.

"Me? I'm just the messenger. Don't shoot the messenger."

What the fuck is this dude getting at? He's speaking in goddamn riddles of sarcasm. "Where is Carly?"

"Well, that's none of your business." This man is absolutely infuriating. He's a douche and dead the second he gets to his gun. Or, really, anything that can be used as a weapon. Maybe even a pair of handcuffs. Kill him with handcuffs, yeah, that'll work after he finds Carly's location out.

"If so much as a hair on her head is harmed-"

"Your threats are in vain, though your concern for her is adorable. Tell me, do you expect you're calling the shots here? You're not, dumbass. I am. Well, technically my boss, but you know what I mean." Infuriating.

"You lay a hand on her and-"

"Are you going to keep threatening me? You're the one tied up to a chair, not me. I can move whenever I want to, you cannot." Bile pools in his stomach at the thought of someone's hands on her, hurting her. Causing her pain. Doing what Cyrus did to her again, as often as they please because he can't save her. "But, for your information, no one's gotten handsy with her yet."

How relieving. "Keep it that way."

"You know, she keeps talking about you like you're some damn superhero. To be honest, I don't see it. You're so in sync though, she's worried one of us are going to hurt your pretty boy face."

"Careful, you don't want to show all of your cards at once," Jason teases. It's probably a bad idea but Carly's kidnapped too and he can't get out on his own dammit.

"Keep mouthing off and I'll make sure she's beaten up good. Bruised so bad it won't go away for months."

That's a damn good threat, he's got to admit.

Clearly enjoying his silence, this dude continues, "Your only chance of getting to her is playing by my rules. Then again, she's been mouthing off to us the whole time we've had her. Stubborn brat, that one is. She won't let anyone even give her food, she's just been saying that you'll save her because it's how you two work." That's his girl. He can't help but smile at the thought of her talking the ears off of a kidnapper. He might talk the dude into letting her go. "You two are adorably in sync, her fighting us using your name as though you're a hero. Tell me, what did you ever do that made her think of you as her hero?"

"I guess I've just always been there to save her," he answers. Looking the kidnapper in the eyes, he continues, "and I always will, no matter the consequences."

"Cute. Your whole hero thing is cute and I think it's adorable that you both love each other so much. She's already about to kill us if it means she'll get a single piece of information on her big hero who always saves her."

Sounds like Carly. "If that's supposed to surprise me, it doesn't. I've known her so long nothing she can do surprises me."

"And you love her enough you'll do anything for her. Touching, really. Never have I ever had the pleasure of having two hostages who are so helplessly in love with each other like you two are, yet they're apparently only friends. Tell me, is there anything you wouldn't be willing to do for her, if it meant she'd be freed?"

"No."

"Good, good to know. I think we're ready to discuss the terms of your mutual release, because she's pissing my guy off so much he's had to get a little handsy." Name, address, the whole nine yards. The second he gets them, that dude dies. "Calm down, it was only once. She won't even scar."

"The terms," he spits out in an attempt to control his anger. This is infuriating.

"In exchange for your mutual release, you will give approximately fifteen million dollars to my boss." Who the hell needs that much money? Whatever. If she's free, he'll do near anything.

"I don't have my checkbook on me right now, but I can make that deal." Donna. How is she dealing with this? He suspects he's been gone long enough now that she's been able to understand what's going on.

"Good. You will make a check for fifteen million dollars to Miss Fiona Svlankovich," the hostage holder says, handing his checkbook to him.

"Wait. This seems too easy."

"It's not, I assure you. Fiona's a bit of an evil lady, but when she says she'll set you free after you do something, you and your “best friend” will be released," he informs him. A bit of an evil lady? She's a lot more than a bit evil.

"I can't exactly sign this with my hands tied behind my back," he says calmly.

"Shit," the hostage holder mutters. "I'll uncuff one of your arms, but only because you don't have any weapons on you." Idiot. He can feel his gun in his pocket as he gets uncuffed and signs the check.

Before he can be recuffed, he pulls out his gun and fires a single bullet into the dude's leg. "Tell me where Carly is or I'll take you out right now."

"On a date or in a murderous way?"

What type of fucking question is that? "Murder. So, her location."

"Someone's horny," kidnapping dude chuckles before he gets punched. "Fine, fine. She's somewhere in this house. You figure out where, that's up to you. So, you gonna kill me now?"

"Thinking about it. You take me to exactly where she is, right now," Jason answers, gun trained at this hostage dude.

Without a witty remark, he gets led the way to Carly. Conveniently, she's screaming at that exact moment, "He will find me and you will die. I hope you look forward to death because he's been getting me out of messes for longer than you've been alive."

She's tied up in a pantry, he notes before kicking the door open. "I swear to fucking god-" she starts before noticing he's there and tearing up. "Oh thank god you're here."

Unceremoniously, her guards pull out their guns and he shoots them both before shooting his own guard, Carly yelping each time. She's not a fan of the sound of a gun going off, nor kidnapping, so he doubts this is fun for her.

He makes quick work of getting her uncuffed and she falls into him, embracing him in a tight hug and burying her face in his neck as he does the same. "I knew you'd save me," she says and he can feel her tears soaking his shirt, but it's okay. He's got extras at home (and, of course, the clothes she bought a few months ago).

"We've got to get out of here," he mutters and she pulls away, tears of joy and relief still flowing down her face.

A few minutes (and dead bodies) later, they make it out of the weird ass mansion they're stuck in. Now, of course, the big issue is how the fuck they get out of here. There's no cars he can see.

"I don't want to walk but I will," Carly says, frowning as she looks at her disgusting outfit. "I liked this outfit too."

To be continued hopefully after this headache clears up

@ryleighjosephine