#then tried to holla and he looked way older than me and I think he was a pastor or something too he had a nice car and tried to get me to

[choices-love-affair]

Fever Pitch - Part 1.

Eek! So I’m back! This WIP has been sitting in my files for so long and I finally found the groove to finish and post it! I hope you guys enjoy it!

I anticipate this to be a two-part story, set between the ethics hearing and Ethan returning from the Amazon, it’s your much-loved angst fest that we all know I love writing!

Shoutout to the absolute wonderful @drethanramslay, who helped me get this over the line with her contributions, I’d so lost without you and everyone else who is always so wonderful and supportive.

(also, if you want to be taken off my taglist, just holla)

Anyway! Please be kind (heh) and I hope you enjoy!

WARNING! One swear word, plenty of angst.

This is a Ethan x F!MC story (Lorelei Stannaway).

The scuffing of Lorelei’s slippers bounced off the walls of the eerily quiet hallways of Edenbrook; at 2am, the graveyard shift had well and truly taken a hold of the otherwise bustling precinct. The nurses had dimmed the hallway lights and quietened the machines in an attempt to keep their patients asleep, the on-call doctors all retired to their offices, many closed doors accompanied with the glow of light illuminating the bottoms of them as she walked past.

Whilst the hospital was quiet at this time of night Lorelei’s mind was racing, and her dilemma so loud inside her head, it was almost debilitating. Before she realised, she was face first with the office door labelled: Dr Ethan Ramsey, and after taking a steadying breath of air, she entered the room. She glanced up to see Ethan with his back to her, leant over his desk taking a phone call, yet her vision quickly blurred his form out, as she noticed the bookcase behind his desk, usually filled with journals, accolades and framed certificates was now bare, the grained wood now a stark and confronting brown that took her very much by surprise.

“Wow…okay. You sure don’t waste anytime” Lorelei scoffed, the words sounding much more immature than she had initially anticipated, spilling from her mouth before she could even register that it had happened. She couldn’t back down now, she had initiated the battle and she was determined not to lose it.

Ethan sighed loudly, “Naveen, can I call you back? … Yes, I know. I already know. Naveen! I get it. I will. Why you’re even here at the hospital when you should be home resting is beyond me, go home.” He chastised the older man before ending the phone call and glancing across defeatedly at the woman before him.

“Really, Lorelei? We’re still here?” he bit back “please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, Rori. They need me, I want to be there and help. Surely you can understand that?” he reasoned, turning his back on her once more to continue packing, a silent indication that it was no longer up for discussion.

Lorelei’s blood boiled at his silent gesture.

“Ethan…” her voice was calm, controlled and laced with promised absolute as she stared at the back of his head, although her eyes resembled that of a tumultuous storm, her heart was racing and her breathing erratic – she was petrified of what could possibly eventuate tonight. Lorelei knew she had his undivided attention now; she could tell by the increased heaving of Ethan’s shoulders with each breath he took that he was waiting for what was about to follow.

“Ethan, if you leave here and get on that plane. If you leave this country, this hospital… Ethan, in a time that I really need you the most, if you leave me…” she paused, preparing herself to say the next words and willing herself strong enough to follow through on them “I won’t be here when you get back”.

That was it, her last-ditch effort to persuade him to stay. She was out of options and yet felt so very ashamed of how disreputable she had become through sheer desperation. She knew her attempts were feeble however, nor did they serve any purpose, for Ethan had checked out long before she could have convinced him otherwise, and that was what destroyed her the most.

Ethan visibly bristled as he registered her words, and slowly, he could feel himself becoming indignant at her ultimatum. He stood and weighed the reality of her words with his back to her for what felt like a lifetime before he eventually spoke, his voice barely above a whisper “you don’t mean that… “ he replied, though he was doubtful, and he knew the waver in his voice betrayed him.

“Then why are you so eager to test its credibility?” she whispered back, too afraid to speak louder in fear of her voice breaking, tears threatened at her eyes, warm and prickly, as she tried to blink them back. Instead they cascaded down her cheeks in silence as she wiped angrily at her face.

Ethan leant heavily against his desk and hung his head, as though it was the only thing capable of withstanding the weight currently crushing him “what do you want me to say?” he sighed exasperatedly “that I’m sorry? That it isn’t beneficial for my career and I should just stay in order to keep you happy? Lorelei, this isn’t going to be some happy ending for us, I’ve already told you how I feel…” he broke off, carefully measuring the next words in his mind, acutely aware of the damage they will do, but knowing that they’re very much mutual  “…you’re getting too attached. If I don’t leave now, Lorelei, you’ll only suffer, longing for something I’ll never be able to give you. At the end of the day, I’m doing this for you.”

“I’m sorry what?!” Lorelei raised her voice incredulously, her eyebrow cocked as she felt the confusion and anger bubble in the pit of her stomach, seeping into every crevice of her being and consuming her, removing all rational thought from her mind “Jesus Christ, Ethan! Could you be a man and at least turn around and look me in the eyes if you’re going to break my heart?!”.

Ethan’s fear got the better of him as he exploded at her provoking and accusatory tone, implying that breaking her heart was his main priority, without realising, his sub conscious projected him into panic mode as he became reactive and emotional “I said I’m doing this for you!!” his voice quickly reaching the same volume as hers as he whipped his body around to look at her, his eyes glowed with a burning intensity, a silent warning for her to back down.

“Oh for fuck sake, E! That’s bullshit and you know it!” she rebutted, fresh hot tears spilling down her face yet her voice not betraying her this time “you don’t get to make those decisions for me!”

“I am not doing this right no-“

“Then when, Ethan? In six hours when you’re on the way to the airport? In nine when you’re on the plane? When will we do this because I don’t know about you, but I don’t think there’s much time left to do anything!”

Ethan looked at her in desperation, eyes filled with so much pain and angst, his ocean blues were now stormy greys, as he pushed himself off the desk and toward the door.

Desperation reaching fever pitch as she followed him out the doors and into the hallway “Ethan! Where are you going?!” her legs struggling to keep up with his strides as she followed him to the elevators, he stared forward, not once wavering or hazarding a glance at her in fear of his resolve crumbling.

The loud ping of the elevator doors opening reverberated throughout the otherwise silent hallway, Ethan stepped inside and turned around, not quite managing to meet her eyes “please… don’t follow me. It isn’t forever, Rori. I’ll be back soon and by the time that happens, you would have gotten over your ridiculous crush and we can both move on and do our jobs” his heart shattering as the words left his mouth, as he finally looked up and locked eyes with her as she stood there, bewildered, speechless and rooted to the ground. A sob choked in the back of her throat as she noticed the tears welling in Ethan’s eyes, reflecting her own.

“stay” she quietly pleaded “because if you don’t, I won’t. If you leave, I can assure you I won’t be here when you get back.” her final warning hung heavy in the air between them as Ethan assessed her face for any sign of relent.

“You’re being unreasonable”.

“the feeling is mutual”.

The pair stood either side of the elevator doors, not once breaking eye contact as they each waited for the other to surrender, yet neither having any intention of doing so. As the doors slid shut on Ethan’s broken-hearted face and carried him away, Lorelei was left staring at the harsh metal, a stark reminder of the metaphorical wall that Ethan had so meticulously placed between them, and continued to leave up.

She stayed rooted to the spot, bowing her head as the warm tears began falling hard and fast down her face again, and the sob she had been keeping in finally escaped.

“Lorelei…” a warm, gentle voice cooed down the hallway, as she turned to see Naveen approaching her “my sweet girl, come. Let’s go sit down” he shushed as he collected her in his arms and rubbed her shoulder empathetically “it isn’t forever” he reassured.

“he just... he just left Naveen? What if he never comes back? What if he stays there and we never see him again?” she spoke aloud, her mind racing.

“He’ll be back, Dear. If I’m positive of nothing else, it’s that he won’t be able to stay away for too long, not from you anyway” he smiled a warm and knowing smile at the young doctor, as he gently led her back towards his office.  

Taglist: @ethandaddyramsey @trappedinfandoms @openheart12 @mvalentine @beloved-ode @kaavyaethanramsey @newcolonies @missmiimiie @nooruleman @drethanramslay @agent-breakdance @angela8756 @utterlyinevitable @maurine07 @professorkingslay 

[bebepac]

WIP Wednesday 4-8-2020

This is what I’m working on!   Curious to see what others like @dcbbw @bbrandy2002 @loveellamae and @burnsoslow are working on too.  Holla!!!! 

Tagging @queenjilian @janezillow @kimmiedoo5 @kingliam2019 @glaimtruelovealways @custaroonie @annekebbphotography @lodberg @camersworld @queenwalton @xpandabeardontcarex @hopefulmoonobject @queencordonia @atha68 @my0123456789universe @indiacater @losingbraincellseveryday @furiousherringoperatortoad @marietrinmimi @sevenfuckslefttogive @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @mrsdrakewalkerblog @cordonia-gothqueen @cordonianroyalty @yukinagato2012 @we-lazystudent @islandcrow @texaskitten30 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @jared2612 @acanthisorbis @ac27dj @nomadics-stuff​ @the-soot-sprite​

If there is anything you need to catch up on before the weekend, (that’s usually when i have free time to post) please click  https://bebepac.tumblr.com/post/190800365955/masterlist

Fast Forward Chapter 4 

Blurred Lines 

Bastien grabbed Nico, pulling him out into the hallway.

“Nico, I recommended you to be Queen Riley’s guard because I thought you could handle it.”

“I can handle it, I just saved the Queen’s life!”

“Stop playing dumb Nico.  You know what I mean.  The Queen is not a woman you can have.”

“I’m not sure I agree.”

“Have you slept with Queen Riley?”

“No.”

“Have you kissed her.”

“Almost.”

“So also no.”  Bastien laughed.  “You really don’t know her.  If you knew her as well, as I have come to know her, you would know Queen Riley makes her intentions clear.   If she truly wanted you, she would have already had you by now.  The number of times I had to turn a blind eye, as Liam and Riley would think they were sneaking off together, during Liam’s  social season was staggering.”

Nico opened his mouth to speak.

“Before you ask, why I turned a blind eye, I could tell, he really cared for her.  He’d never looked at anyone, the way he looked at her. She looked at him, with the same passion.  I knew, from the moment he went to pick her up from the airport, how nervous and excited he was.  He thought he was hiding her that week.  I’ve never seen someone so happy, and proud to have someone on his arm.  He brought her here for a week, and prayed that she would stay.  She left everything she knew, for him.  If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.  That’s who you’re trying to drive a wedge between Nico, and I won’t let you continue to do it."

“There’s something there, I felt it from her today.”

Bastien shook his head.  “Nico, I saw the way she clung to you.  It may have felt like she was having romantic emotions for you in that moment… but she wasn’t .  She was afraid, and you were saving her.  Because you’re her guard.  That’s your job.”  

" Look at her with him."

“It really doesn’t….”  

“I SAID LOOK, GOD DAMNIT!!!!”

He watched Queen Riley with King Liam. He had crawled in the bed with her and was holding her in his arms, in a tight embrace, while she cried on his shoulder. He wiped her tears and kissed her lips. He couldn't hear what he was saying, but he could read Queen Riley's lips.  "I was so scared Liam. I love you. I love you so much. Hold me… don't let go."

Bastien looked once again at Nico. "Does that look like a woman that’s about to leave her husband for you?”

The Life of Riley Chapter 9

Look Who’s Talking Now

**Note.  i’m going to try to start aging Riley a bit each chapter.  I want your honest opinion on this. If it feels too fast guys let me know.  She’s going to be 3 in this chapter. 

When Riley started something, she was full speed ahead.  She didn’t know the meaning of the word brakes. They didn’t expect talking to be any different.  From the beginning when Riley learned the sound of her voice, she would just babble, in her baby language all the time. Day or night.  Sometimes they would wake up in the middle of the night, and Riley would be giggling and babbling.  

Riley being three, wasn't tiresome for Ren and Jason.  Two wasn’t terrible.  None of it was terrible.  They were simply happy they had a three year old child.  Riley was so independent for her age.  Riley did everything earlier than planned and excelled at it.

Ren lay in bed watching tv with Jason.   They could hear Riley on the monitor laughing.  

“Man I wish there was a Jumperoo for 3 year olds.   But I don’t think it would even contain her.  She’s a workout running around the house.”

“And she’s so smart Jason.  She knows so many words for a 3 year old.”

“Yes she does. You’ve been talking to her like she’s your best girlfriend since we brought her home.”  

“I think it’s more than that, It’s so much more than that.  I see 3 year old children daily.  None have her vocabulary, and are able to string sentences together like she can. The only one that came remotely close was a child with an older sibling.”

“She’s our little Einstein, are you really surprised though? Riley has been ahead of every cognitive hallmark, since she was born.”  

The next day Ren was off work.  She was making Riley a snack in the kitchen. Riley was coloring when she left.  

As she walked out the kitchen with Riley’s sliced apples and grapes and peanut butter, she saw her standing in front of Lucky with her hand held out.  

“Sit Lucky,”  Riley said confidently and Lucky sat on her haunches on command.

Ren gasped.  Jason had tried to teach Lucky tricks for years with no luck.

Riley clapped her hands,  “Good Girl.” She patted Lucky’s head, and she licked her face, and Riley started laughing.  

"One more?"

Riley looked like she was listening.

Riley put out her hand again, pointing at Lucky. She moved her arm in a loop.

"Lucky! Rolloller!"

Lucky did nothing.

Riley looked again to her left.

"Rol…....oller…….. Roll…....ollver…..roll…..over."

"Lucky! Roll Over!" This time when Riley made the loop with her arm Lucky followed her, rolling over on the floor.

"We did it! We did it Jaiden!"

Ren gasped, slapping her hand over her mouth, dropping the glass she was carrying, it making a huge crash, as it hit the hardwood floor.

Scar Tissue Chapter 10

Aftershocks (Still a while from being released.) 

I told you guys this one wouldn’t far from my mind.  I decided to write a little on it to get some ideas going for when I’m really ready to pull it from hiatus again. This is what I came up with so far.  Yes, I am somewhat of an asshole for this pic posted below.  I’m sorry my Drake Stans that like this AU, for disrespecting your man like this.  But this Drake is not your Marshmallow Man... is he?

Liam was numb. Bastien spoke to Liam; he did not answer. His eyes were still  fixed on Drake's dead body on the floor.  Bastien looked at Riley. Riley placed herself in front of Liam. She softly touched his face. Finally the man with the blue eyes she loved dearly looked down at her, his eyes meeting hers.

"Give me the gun," she whispered.  His grip tightened on it. "Liam it's over. Baby, give me the gun."  The grip in his left hand softened, allowing Riley to take the gun from him. She handed it over to Bastien.

"Nico. Take them through the passages back to their quarters, no one can see the King this way."

Nico nodded. "Follow me, Your Majesties." Riley took Liam's hand and gently pulled him, and he started to follow.

They followed Nico through the passageway,  and at the last turn Nico halted them. " I'll go first to make sure there is no one in the hallways."

Once Nico had given the all clear they headed out.

"I'll be back to collect the King's clothes, yours as well." She looked down at her dress seeing blood on herself.

Riley nodded looking at Liam. He said nothing. She walked Liam into the bathroom turning on their shower.  After a few moments she checked the water to see how hot it was.  

She slowly and carefully undressed Liam.  She had undressed Liam so many times before, but this time was different.  It wasn’t sexual, but this was the most intimate moment, she had ever shared with Liam.  He was so completely vulnerable as he stood before her, still covered in Drake’s blood.

" Baby I’m here,” she said softly as she stroked his cheek.

[chromecutie]

Not A Ghost - part 28

A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.

Taglist: @emma-frxst  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @holamor ​  @empressme-bitch  @marvel-is-perfection  @hazilyimagine ​ @marvelhead17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash ​ @whitewitchdown ​ @master-sass-blast ​ @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen @emberbent @leo-writer . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

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It was the dream she’d had so many times. The details changed, but the bones of it were always the same. Rhonda Reese was eleven years old again. The Louisiana summer was hot, full of mosquito bites and the screaming of cicadas. The air conditioning had been broken for two days, and it was less miserable to be outside than inside, but not by much. 

She ate a popsicle while she played with a boy. Sometimes it was chocolate pudding, sometimes other foods, but this time was a popsicle, just like the first time. He was her brother, and he was annoying, the way most little brothers are. What was his name? Daniel. Of course. How could she have forgotten? He had sandy hair and dark eyes, but the rest of his face was never clear anymore.

On the hot driveway and with hotter tempers, playing became fighting as little Daniel antagonized her. He pushed her buttons for the umpteenth time and provoked young Rhonda to such an anger that she’d never felt before. She yelled and stomped her feet, as she always did, and shoved him hard with her palms on his chest. As she did, a bright shock of electricity like pale green lightning left her hands and hit him. 

The boy, her brother, fell to the ground, shaking. Rhonda screamed, screamed for help, and screamed more. Her mother called for an ambulance and the family rushed to the hospital. Sometimes, Daniel collapsed in a charred, smoking heap or matched Rhonda’s anger and sent her shock back to her, but this time was just like when it had really happened.

In the waiting room, Rhonda cried in horror of what she’d done. She didn’t know how she did it, but it had definitely been her fault. She couldn’t get the image of her brother shaking on the ground out of her mind. Her parents wouldn’t look at her. They barely spoke to her. They wouldn’t let her see her brother. 

She cried and waited and cried, alone in the waiting area while her parents stayed with Daniel. An older man who used a wheelchair approached her with a kind smile and called her by name. He told her she was different and special, and though something scary had just happened, he could help her avoid doing something like that again. He promised her the love of her life and sausage casserole - that wasn’t right. In reality, he had promised a school where she would make friends, teachers who cared about her doing well, and would help her be unafraid of herself. The sausage casserole and love of her life had come later.

She wiped her nose, dried her eyes on a handkerchief the man had offered her. Rhonda didn’t know how the things he promised could be possible, but she was desperate for some comfort. “But what about my parents, sir? And my brother?” she asked.

His expression was warm, but there was an edge of sadness in his eyes. “You can call me Professor Xavier,” he said, “Or Charles. I will talk with your parents, but only if you want to come with me.”

Rhonda’s dark brown eyes were large, round, and overly glossy with tears as she nodded. Professor Xavier headed down the hallway to the room where the rest of the Reese family was. Moments later, he returned and held out his hand to lead the teary-eyed girl with him.

Sometimes, the dream showed Rhonda what things could have been - her parents visiting the school, her brother joining her there. Other times, the dream was much darker, like all the times her parents had shown up to the school in DMC uniforms, dragging her out of the house screaming. But the facts were: Rhonda came to love her new school and call it home, but her parents never visited, never called, and Rhonda never went home. She had never even heard if her brother lived.

--

Rhonda stirred when she felt something cool and damp on her face. She felt something around her that was warm, but unyielding. “Hey, honey,” she mumbled through a pounding headache, not yet opening her eyes.

“There she is,” crooned Piotr’s deep, soothing voice, lifting a washcloth off her face. “We were getting worried. Can you stand?”

Frowning and slowly shaking her head, Rhonda woke up a little more before she recognized the fuzzy feeling dulling her senses and the uncomfortable weight around her neck. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up so fast that Piotr only moved just in time to avoid her clipping her head on his chin. 

They were in a shabby motel room, lying on a bed with Rhonda nestled in Piotr's lap. There were drab orange and gold curtains over the window, dense enough that it was impossible to tell if it was day or night. Overwhelmed with confusion, Rhonda swished her way around the bedspread, looking around at her husband, the window, and the closed door. All her questions condensed into a raspy, “Where’s the DMC?”

Carefully, as though he were trying not to scare away a tiny bird, Piotr took her hands and said quietly, “They’re not here, but they will be soon. Sladkaya, there isn’t much time.”

Rhonda took deep breaths, a little too fast. “Okay,” she huffed in a whisper like wind blasting through a tin can, “okay. How are we getting this off?” She pulled one hand out of Piotr’s grip to tug at the collar. 

He hesitated. He briefly looked away, clenching his jaw. When he looked back at her, his brows were pinched and his lip twitched. 

“What?” She knew, deep down.

“Rhonda,” he sighed, “If we try to remove it ourselves, it could detonate. We can’t risk it.” He glanced at the door.

“What are you saying?” her blood turned to ice.

“The safest way is to get hard tokens from Icebox…” he gently squeezed her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of her palm.

“So we’re breaking in?”

“Yes, after we learn more about it, but…” he swallowed, “It will be easier if we have someone inside.”

She looked at him with horror and hurt, even betrayal, “You’re telling me to...go back?” Her breathing grew heavy and hot tears stung her eyes. “You can’t be serious.”

Everything in him screamed what a mistake it was to even ask. “Cable has good plan,” he assured her, “If what that guard said is true, someone needs to go in there and get hard tokens. None of us know Icebox as well as you. If you can steal hard tokens, and we break through the walls from outside, we can get your collar off, get you out, and expose DMC’s corruption.”

Rhonda struggled to get her breathing under control enough to speak. Her voice was hoarse and raspy, cutting out if she reached higher pitches. She shook her head. “So you’re not even gonna try to get the collar off?”

“Rhonda, it could blow your head off!” he made a frustrated noise. 

“I’ll take that risk! Can’t you contain the blast with your hands? How big could the yield be?” She tried to turn the collar and feel the block that housed the keypad and explosive. “You could get your hand in here.”

“Not without strangling you,” he grumbled. He reached to pull her closer, but she edged away and off the bed. 

Her shoulders low, brows set harder than Piotr’s skin, Rhonda snapped, “I would rather get my head blown off than go back in there. Piotr, if that’s the plan,” she smeared away her tears and said with bitter finality, “I would rather die here. At least I’d be with you and not in a freezing cold shit-hole.” She swallowed around the huge lump in her throat and tried to speak calmly, but her voice was so damaged from screaming. “Don’t put me in that casket, I wanna be cremated. Do whatever with the ashes.”

It was roughly the reaction he expected, but it was another thing entirely to hear his wife all but ask him to kill her out of mercy, and he hated himself for it. He hated himself for asking his wife to go back to hell because he couldn’t find another option. But this couldn’t be the end for them, for her.

There was a little beep and the door opened; Wade stepped into the room and said, “Yeah, these walls are paper thin and Silver Cinnamon Roll here is fucking up this whole pitch.” He smacked Colossus on the shoulder, “Give us the room for a minute. Go stand in the hall and think of how you couldn’t sell weed to Snoop Dogg if your life depended on it.”

Frustrated and disgusted with himself, Piotr stood from the bed and glanced at his wife, which she returned with a stony glare. He sighed and quietly closed the door behind him.

“Anyhoo,” Wade said with entirely too much excitement in his voice. “You’re a prime candidate for the Revenge Arc Club now, Mrs. Colossus.” He booped her nose and she looked like she would bite off the next thing that touched her. “I heard some stories about you in the Icebox, and if half of them are true--shit, if any of them are true, you’re tough enough and smart enough for this. I’ve known Marines and Navy Seals who weren’t as tough as you!”

“I doubt that,” she growled under her breath, eyes narrowed.

He laughed, “Your Cable impression’s getting really good! Furthermore, if Colossus knows where you are, there’s not a fucking thing in this world that will keep him from getting to you.” He plopped himself onto the bed like a kid at a sleepover. “If it was me, well, he’d let me sit in the Icebox awhile as a fancy time-out to think about what I’ve done. Actually, he has done that. But not you.” Wade waggled his finger. “You wait, he’ll crash through the wall like a big, sexy, Kool-Aid Man.”

Rhonda was silent. She didn’t doubt her husband would come for her, but knowing what he would see, what he would learn about her, she couldn’t imagine a world where he would still want to take her home after that. She sank onto the edge of the bed.

“Aaaand,” Wade drawled as if he was about to promise a child extra cherries on their ice cream, “I’m going in with you.” He paused for dramatic effect, watching Rhonda’s furrow twitch. He sobered. “Colossus wanted to go in with you, but I had to veto that. Hard pass,” he nodded conspiratorially, “You and I both know the first person he says privet to would stab him right in the liver.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head, hopeless, “He wouldn’t last through lunch, before twenty guys jumped him.”

“You and me, though,” Wade continued, “we’ll be a good team. We know what it takes to survive in there. When push comes to shove, I know you’ll do whatever fucked up shit it takes to get the job done, and not lecture me about playing nice with the other kids and getting on the honor roll.” 

As upset as she was, Rhonda’s scowl deepened.

Wade pulled off his red mask, and he gave a subdued smile. “Besides...Guestbook,” he traced one of the visible Xs on her right forearm, where most of the zhostovo painting from that morning had scraped or peeled away. “Good chance for you to get some payback.”

She stiffened at the name, but instead of hitting him, she wilted. “There’s really no other way, is there?”

He held up his right hand, pinkie extended. “I pinkie swear, we’ll get out.”

Rhonda held up her right hand, to remind him she had no pinkie there, and vehemently lifted her middle finger instead. 

Wade shrugged. “Not to hard-sell, but Juggernaut can only buy us so much time, and the DMC will be here anywhere from twenty minutes to a few hours, so…”

She arched a brow in disbelief, “Cain? How’d you get him to help? I thought he ran off with Mystique.”

“Caaaiiin, so chummy!” Wade scoffed. “Well, the blue meanie drove off without him when shit hit the fan. When Cable found the collars have tracking chips, your buddy Caaaiiiin grabbed a few layin’ around and said he’ll throw off the DMC’s trail. How did you get him to like you so much? He literally ripped me in half, and I love him! You give him an insanely good blowjob or something?”

She blinked and gave an emphatic, “No. He...he always made it sound like he’d shred me limb from limb if he ever got the chance.” She shook her head. 

Wade stretched his shoulders. “So? The plan? You and me in, Cable and Colossus bust us out. Maybe Caaaiiin helps. They’ll probably bring on Domino and the lesbians as backup--ooh, that would be a great band! You on board or is the DMC gonna make that choice for you when they catch us at this hotel?”

Rhonda stared at her new wedding band, twisting the faux-brozne silicone on her finger before slowly slipping it off. Her heart felt like a lump of lead in her chest, cold and misshapen. She sighed with heartbroken resignation, “Let’s go,” and rose from the bed, clutching her bruised ribs for just a second before standing straight.  

In the hallway, Piotr leaned against the wall with his face in his hands. The door opened and he snapped straight to see Rhonda emerging with Wade behind her. Her expression was the same hardened inmate scowl she’d had when she first arrived home a few months ago. He had hoped she would never look like that again, and seeing it now twisted the knife in his gut like nothing else. He reached to touch her shoulder, “Rhonda, I--”

She grabbed his hand and pressed her ring into his palm. “Hold onto this.” She barely met his eyes for a second before she dropped her gaze again.

He looked down at the ring in his hand, confused, but before he could say a word, she strode down the hall, Wade on her heels, and snapped over her shoulder, “And you better not bring the girls anywhere near the Icebox.”

[parkerspicedlatte]

Just in Time (Soulmate AU) Revisited

Lovely Moodboard Provided by: @parkerpuffwrites

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairings: Harrison Osterfield x Reader, Tom Holland x Bestfriend (OC)

AU: SOULMATE AU CAN I GET A HOLLA!

Warnings: None, my poor excuse for writing!

Authors note: Okay i have never written a Haz fic, infact i have only ever written two fics ever that were of real people, so yeah.... Also i was originally going to do this with Tom and bestfriend!Harrison but the people have spoken so now we have a Haz fic yay!

Eight minutes and forty seconds left, it felt like an eternity. You would meet your soulmate in less than ten minutes and you were freaking out.

Beside you stood your best friend, your closest friend in the entire universe, who was in the same boat as you, but she was one hundred percent calm. Anne’s timer was set to exactly twenty seconds before yours yet she wasn’t even breaking a sweat.

That’s pretty much how the two of you had become friends actually. Sixth grade, Anne was new in your school and you two sat next to each other in class. It was less than a week before she noticed that your soulmate timer was less than a minute behind hers. She then tried to convince you that you two were meant to meet your soulmates together. After a while you two quickly built an impenetrable bond and the rest is history. Now here you are, two years after high school, sitting in an airport as you see her older brother and his new wife off, waiting to meet your matches, literally.

“Where do you think they’re coming from?” she asked calmly, as if she were asking what the forecast for the afternoon was going to be.

“What?” You turned to look at her with a questioning expression.

“Well I was just thinking, we’re supposed to meet them in less than ten minutes, here in an airport,” explained Anne, “So I’m thinking they’re either coming or going, my bets are on coming. So where do you think they’re coming from?”

“Oh goodness, I don’t know. I hadn’t even thought of that.” You mentally face palmed for not having put the scenario together. “Do the gates tell where the planes are coming from?”

“Not these ones,” she said squinting at the digital signs above the airport doors. You let your thoughts wander while Anne looked around the airport.

What if Anne is only half right? It makes sense that they’re going to be here before we get out of here so maybe they’re catching a plane? What if we only get five minutes with them before they have to leave for who knows how long? What if they want me to move with them to a different country? What if they don’t even speak English?

“Three minutes can you believe it?” Anne sighed.

You looked down at your timer to see what was left.

Two minutes fifty seven. Two minutes fifty six. Two minutes fif-

“We’re going to meet them in three minutes,” she said to no one in particular.

“We’re going to meet them in less than three minutes and you aren’t freaking out,” you said in disbelief. “You couldn't look more calm than if you were standing in line at Starbucks.”

“Believe me,” she huffed, “I’m freaking out on the inside.”

Before you could reply, a new flock of people emerged from the baggage claim and made their way towards the cafeteria that you and Anne were currently sitting in.

“Eye’s open they could be in that group,” she said to you. Her eyes begin to scan through the new crowd of people that walked around the coolers of sandwiches and drinks while you watched the people who began to claim tables for themselves or their families.

You smiled to yourself at the sight of a young family of two parents and their three children, the children were all likely under the age of six. The little boy was sitting up on his knees shoving a sandwich in his mouth while his little sister played with a toy on the table top. The father held the baby wearing a green sweater as the mother picked up the little girl and set her on her lap to help her get most of her food into her mouth rather than the table.

Your mind again wandered to the world of unanswered questions.

Would your soulmate want children? Do they even like children? What if they wanted far more than you thought you could handle?

Shaking your head you relieved yourself of the unnecessary questions, deciding to leave them for another day.

One minute left.

That meant Anne only had forty seconds left. You glanced over at her to see the look of nervousness set over her face. The look disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. Most people wouldn’t have even caught that but you could read her like a book, and in that moment of vulnerability, you saw her fear.

Looking away your eye caught those belonging to a curly haired brunet who, unlike Anne, showed every ounce of fear he was feeling.

What would he have to be scared of-?

“Anne, to your right.”

Her head whipped around faster than a lambs tail, nearly slapping you in the face with her pony tail. Anne was about to apologise but in a split second she froze. She had seen the curly haired boy.

Beep. The timer sounded on her wrist and broke off automatically. It fell to the table you were sitting at but she didn’t even flinch. The timer from the boy’s wrist fell off at the exact same time clattering to the floor catching the attention of the taller blond boy beside him. The blond's eyes went wide when he saw the timer on the ground.

He brought his own wrist up to his line of vision and his jaw dropped. He thought he still had a few minutes. The blond looked up at his friend then across to see who he was starring at, but he didn’t make it that far. His eyes caught those of a girl with y/h/c and y/e/c sitting at a table starring right back at him.

At that moment he felt the weight of the timer fall easily off of his wrist. Unlike Tom, Harrison reacted quickly and caught the timer, though he didn’t break eye contact with the y/h/c girl. Somehow he found himself being drawn to the girl, quite literally. He was subconsciously walking straight towards her table with Tom hot on his heels. The girl and her friend both rose from their seats and met the boys halfway.

At the last second you froze and so did your soulmate. Anne and her soulmate however skipped the introductions and dove right into each other’s arms in a vice tight hug.

“Hi.” The blond was the first to speak up. Your heart did a back flip then a front flip and basically any flip imaginable. It felt like your heart was practising gymnastics for the Olympics, jumping up into your throat and then down to the pits of your stomach.

“Hi,” you replied timidly while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“So um, I’m pretty sure that you’re my soulmate, actually I’m quite certain that you are,” he told you nervously, his accent that carried his words was like milk and honey, the lost note of a long forgotten melody. “My name’s Harrison,” he smiled softly.

You sucked in a shaky breath still not believing that this beautiful person in front of you was your soulmate.

“Hi, um you’re- I’m you’re, you’re my-” You tried to get the words out but you were nearly chocking on them as they tried to escape your throat.

“Hey it’s alright.” Harrison stepped forward hesitantly bringing his arms around your frame, resting his chin on atop of your head. “You don’t need to say anything,” he whispered running one of his hands up and down your back comfortably. “We’ve got forever, no need to say anything right now.”

You slowly brought your face away from his chest to look up at him; he was already smiling down at you with stars in his beautiful blue eyes. He placed a small, chaste kiss to your forehead then to your nose making you smile at him softly. One of his arms let go of you momentarily to tuck the rogue piece of hair back behind your ear.

This was your soulmate. The person who you had known less than two minutes already had you in their arms, placing delicate kisses to your face, this person who already looked at you like you hung all the moon and stars in the sky.

Without breaking eye contact you brought one of your hands up to cup the side of Harrison’s face, stroking your thumb lightly over his cheekbone. His smile grew wider at your actions. He bit his bottom lip in attempt to somewhat control his grin.

Tentatively he ducked his head down slightly, bringing it a little closer to yours. He held it there to see how you would react. Your eyes flicked down to his lips by  reflex. Letting the moment take you with it, you closed your eyes and breathed in, then, leaned forward to close the gap, meeting Harrison halfway once again.

For that moment the world slowed down, all you could feel were Harrison’s lips against yours, exchanging kisses. His hand that crept around to cup your own cheek wasn’t even noticed by either of you. You were both lost in the moment, the moment of bliss, the moment where everything was perfect. You had found each other safe and sound.

The sound of applause broke you and Harrison out of your trance as the strangers around you realised what was happening between the two couples. You looked over to see Anne and her curly haired soulmate in a similar position save for the fact that he was holding Anne in the air with her legs popped, like a silly romantic movie. They looked at each other and burst into laughter, typical for Anne. You could tell that those two were going to get along perfectly, not that you had any doubts.

The chest you were still being held against rumbled as Harrison chuckled at his friend and Anne. You glanced up at him while he looked off.

“Y/n.”

“Hmm?” Harrison looked back down at you with an expression you wished you could capture and hang from the tallest building in the world.

“My name is y/n,” you told him finally.

This time his smile took over his face, going all the way up to the sparkle in his eyes.

“Well y/n. It’s absolutely lovely to meet you. Not to sound too cheesy but I’ve been waiting decades for you, love. You know, Tom and I were getting a little worried because our plane was actually a bit late but it seems that we got here just in time.

Thanks for reading xx Reetz :D

[2019Update:] This has been revisited and updated/reedited and ohhh man I can’t believe that I posted this with as many grammatical mistakes as there were. Please don’t let me do this!!!!!!

[nacsygen]

i mean, if there's anywhere to suffer about gender, why not tumblr, amirite?

i've known for like at least five years now i'm...not cis.  i've never been able to properly explain it, to myself or to others, but the fact that it sticks around so long tells me that, like and as unlike as my brain has tried to tell me many times before about being bi ("not gay enough") and mentally ill ("not mentally ill enough") like yeah, this is clearly a part of my identity, not just a phase or me, idk, trying to be cool or fit in among all the cool non-cis people i know, i guess???

i think what confuses me is that i don't really have much dysphoria about my physical form, really.  not in my own sense of it.  not without the input of other people.  i'm a very small person and this has informed a lot of my life, yes.  i am well below average height and have never been possessed of strength or grip to speak of (i'm the sheepish one who has to ask the girl working at the pizza place, after five minutes of trying at a booth, to open my bottle of water because my hands are just too small to have a proper adult grip).  but my body is my own, and i've long since learned to live with it, and be comfortable in it.  i got no complaints.

but then, people comment without any sort of prompting on aspects of my physicality, strangers, in public, all the time - whether it's the older lady at the bus stop asking how old i am and what i do to diet because i'm Just So Small! (ma'am, this is just how i am - no, i don't diet - if i stood up you could see my gut - being southern and polite is alas also a large part of my identity -), or the threateningly verbally abusive loud misogynist at the bus stop yelling at my turned back about my "skinny ass white girl legs! get some sun, bitch!", or just today, an older cracker (here in florida that is a descriptor of a culture, not a "slur") who i've ridden the same bus with many times with he and his lady friend, coming up to me while i'm standing waiting (again) for the bus and said "hello ma'am, i was just wondering, are you from The North? where are you from?" and i looked up from my book, bc again southern politeness, and said "nah, i'm from here" and pointed at the ground.  "you're really not From The North?  i'm sorry, i don't mean to be impolite, it's just because of your legs.  they're so skinny and pale, we thought you was From The North." "No sir, I'm from right here in Florida. I just don't tan easy." "well, that was a bet I had going with that girl over there that I just lost." "yeah, sorry, sir, I'm southern born and raised." we ended up on the same bus when it got there, and as i was getting ready to disembark he said "you have a good night there, sweetie! enjoy your book!" "oh, i will." realizing the awkwardness as the bus slowly got to a stop, "sorry, i'm nice, it's all i know how to be." "alright, well, you have a good one!" (i'm pretty sure that last that i didn't even think about said more about how Southern i am than anything else i could have said.)

i know that last was a tangent, but that's the thing - i don't even think about my body as Representing Femininity until other people treat me in a different way because of it.  it happens over and over, all the time, and it's the primary cause of what i've come to recognize as dysphoria.  if i was a boy, if my hair was tucked up in my hat and my chest flattened, would these and many others over the years feel free to comment so freely about my body to me?  i really don't think so.  and that shit sucks.

to me, my body is not a Female Body, despite its resemblance to the Traditional Female Body in its curves and shapes - it is not a Female Body, it is My Body.  my breasts are not female breasts, they are my thiddies and i'm really fond of how they look and like to show them off. like, artistically, they are a gift to the world. my long wavy curls are not Female Hair, they're Rockstar Hair, Fuck You, like i grew up with the old-school and grunge male rockstars i always saw as style icons (and the female rock stars too - huge long hair is a great look for everyone!).  idk if it's because i'm really Just That Pansexual that i can look at my societally-hyper-feminized form - extremely petit,  pale, significant boobs but no ass, skinny arms and legs - and say, you know, that could be a cute guy, right there.  

i've more recently in the past few years experimented now and then more towards as gender-neutral a presentation as i can, even though that just means people see me at a distance and think i'm a pre-teen boy. and yet, people treat pre-teen boys much better than they do almost-30 petit women, is the depressing lesson i've learned from that.  

I hate how much of my questioning of my gender identity is tied into negative experiences with other people and their relationships as strangers to my perceived femaleness.  like, i live in a pretty nice neighborhood now, but i hate going to the local gas station bc the block around it is just...holla bingo time.  last time i walked there by myself i wore knee-length loose shorts and an oversized men's plain t-shirt to go with my walking nikes and baseball cap, and i STILL got hollered at.  "hey, sweetheart! you need help carrying that? hey! hey, young lady!" i did not turn - i hate acknowledging men who holler.  "hey, baby, let me give you a ride to wherever you're goin! no one's gonna bother you!" i wanted to yell back "YOU. YOU'RE BOTHERING ME." but then, he was being significantly more polite than many of the people who've hollered at me over the years, so no point in engaging and hurting anybody's feelings or enduring the "i was just trying to be nice" conversation.

and that's the thing, like. i never feel bad about being percieved as female unless people are doing it in a hurtful way. matter of fact, i have no particular relationship to being female except in hurtful ways from other peoples' perceptions.  my body is genderless, as i am genderless, and it is my body. it does what it's supposed to do and has treated me well for how i've treated it over the years. i'm not mad at my body about it. i'm mad at the people who think my form gives them a right to treat me in unacceptable ways for what should be a polite society.  i get dysphoria from the man yelling from a work truck passing by when i'm just trying to get home from my work, "HEEEEY, LIL MAMA~!" I get dysphoria from being wished "happy mother's day!", or did back in 2014, when on break at work, and a significantly older lesbian gestured at me and said to the man in question, " does she LOOK like a mother to you??"

like listen, i like wearing cute little sundresses, or skin-tight tank tops and short-shorts.  you know why? because i live in florida and it's FUCKING HOT.  they are comfortable.  they are easy.  they are simple choices, that i am allowed to make because i am afab and present femme, and i like the way they look on me and like that i'm allowed this comfort in the heat.

i hate that wearing that for my own comfort gives people a seeming license to comment freely on my body.  i hate that presenting as a woman, a "woman", means people treat me this way.  i hate the bus driver that always says "hello there, little lady" when i board his bus, and i hate that he means well by it. i hate that even when i dress in my loose, masculine, don't-get-hollered-at clothes, i still get hollered at. and i find myself wondering, if i had short hair and no boobs, if i was just a 4'11" young teenage boy, would i get hollered at like this? and no. of course not.

but i don't want my gender identity to be the opposition of a negative in favor of a positive. this has gone into a series about street harrassment when in reality there are many reasons i identify more as male or non-female than because of this. i really don't feel much reason to identify as female other than solidarity with female victims of gendered and sexualized violence. which, alright, that's probably not the most positive way to feel. or reproductive health stuff.  alright, that's just the body i was born with, and i don't feel much connection to it otherwise.  i don't want to medically transition, i don't want to change my body, but like...

i don't really know what dysphoria actually is. is it the feeling of displacement in one's own home of self? is it feeling like everything about how everyone else views you is somehow shifted two wrong lenses over at the optometrist's office? is it just feeling like something...something's really wrong here? if so, i think i’m definitely experiencing dysphoria,.

hey, i'm maria/aril, and i'm trans.  i don't know how, exactly, but i am. and here we are.

[sisterwifeudaku]

Holla If You Need Me

Chadwick X Reader

Trigger: Miscarriage

Chadwick pulled up to the local bar in his hometown and sat in the car for a moment to prepare himself. He had been filming Black Panther all week and on his off day he went ahead and drive from Atlanta to South Carolina to see his family and old friends.

Hopping out of the car he stretched as he locked the rental car. He walked into the bar and immediately saw the group of friends waiting on him.

"Ayyye my man Chad. How've you been brother?" His life long  friend Troy asked as they embraced one another in a hug. Once everyone had a chance to greet the star they all began to drink and talk.

"So how's filming going man" Jay, a friend he had since grade school spoke up.

"It's goin' man. I can't really say much about it tho" he said with a shrug.

"Ahh they got yo ass with that contract huh?" His loud friend Billy asked making them all laugh.

"Enough about work shit man let's get to talkin' 'bout what I been missin'. I know y'all got some shit to tell me" he asked not wanting to talk about work anymore.

"You remember that girl you claimed was never your lady but you were lying out ya ass? What was her name?" Travis spoke making Chadwick look at him. He knew who he was talking about but was confused as to why you would be the topic of discussion.

"Yeah man I know. She was a cutie. Iron Mike over here was about to throw some blows at me when I tried to holla that one time" Troy said making the group laugh.

"It wasn't like that man, and her name is Alexis." Chad said with a small smile trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Yeah well turns out she's back in town to stay" Travis said wiggling his eyebrows at Chadwick making his stomach do flips at the thought of seeing you again, you still had that affect on him.

"That's what's up" Chadwick said cooly. He couldn't hide his feelings for shit  back then but he could mask them just fine now, he'd been practicing for years. And he had done a mighty fine job at it, pretending he was happy and whole when in reality a piece of him was missing and would probably never return.

"So you gone hit her up? I know that she was like your ace or something before she left and everything" Billy said making everyone nod.

"I ain't spoke to her since she left" he stated downing the rest of his beverage and leaning back in his seat.

"Why did she leave anyway?" Someone threw out there making him tense up a little bit. He never really liked to put his business out there even if it was to his closest friends. Not to mention it wasn't any of their business.

"She said it was some family drama or something" he said back hoping they would drop it.

He woke up the next morning to the sun shining in his face. Squinting his eyes he sat up in his old bed and began his morning routine. He shuffled down the stairs of his parents home and smiled at the smell of his mother cooking breakfast.

"Glad to see you could make it to breakfast Chadwick with you coming in all late this morning" she spoke as he kissed her cheek.

"Good morning to you too momma...mornin' daddy" he spoke to his parents as he sat at the small kitchen table. As their children grew older and had their own lives to live they stopped visiting and coming home as much leading them to scale down on furniture until holidays.

His mother sat a plate in front of both him and his father before getting her own to sit with them.

"So you know Alexis is back in town right? I invited her and her family over to supper tonight at 7:30. I need you here at 6:30 to help clean up. Ya hear me?" He mother spoke before digging into her own plate.

"Yes ma'am." He said. He knew better than to complain about her inviting them to dinner. He wasn't for getting an earful today not with the way his head was feeling.

"Mama I'm a grown man if I want to dress comfortable for dinner then I will. I didn't even bring slacks" Chadwick said as he sat on the couch next to his father who dressed the way she had asked.

"Jesus...you're my only child to make things difficult. At least put on jeans don't wear those shorts at my table in front of guests" she said walking back into the kitchen.

Chadwick looked at his father who just shook his head and continued to watch the news. By the time he had changed and came back down the guest had arrived.

"Leroy, Carolyn such a pleasure to see you all again!" Your parents greeted.

"Tim, Hazel it's good to see you all as well. Alexis sweetie it's so good to see you hunny" Chadwick's mother spoke up. You smiled in response before speaking.

"It's good to see you too Mr and Mrs Boseman" you said before sinking back into the background hoping to get this dinner over with. You know why they set up this dinner and hopefully Chadwick did too. You almost stayed home but Mrs. Boseman could throw down and you weren't going to deny your tastebuds of whatever she prepared tonight.

Once your parents greeted Chadwick you all went into the dining room to began eating dinner. So far all Chadwick had done was look at you but not speak thus irritating you more than you already were. After saying prayer (idk if you do or not) the food began to make its way around the table making your mouth water.

Everyone engaged in conversation as you sat back quietly and enjoyed the meal. Of course they had to ask you a question causing all of the eyes in the room to turn to you, even Chad's.

"I asked how you've been sweetie. I haven't seen you since the incident" Mrs.Boseman asked sincerely in a kind voice. This made both you and Chadwick choke on air before glancing at each other. Neither of you had enjoyed this topic. You had lost someone dear to you and Chadwick had lost two people that he loved from the bottom of his heart.

"Uhm, I've been making it Mrs.Boseman. Thank you for asking" you said with a small smile. She gave a small nod and sad smile. You suddenly didn't feel like eating as you excused yourself from the table and out of the front door.

You had began to walk the road back to your parent's home in order to retrieve your car. You were in your own world when you felt a hand grab your shoulder. You instantly knew it was Chadwick from the tingling sensation that ran down your spine like it had when you two had first began to be friends, at the age or 8 which is right around the time that you began to think that people of the opposite sex didn't have cooties after all.

"Now you know better than to walk out here alone minnie" he stated with a small smile hoping to get you to crack your first for the night.

"Chad just let me go so I can get my car" you stated not wanting to talk to him, memories starting to resurface the longer you stood near him.

"Ok Lex damn, at least let me drive you to your car" he said pulling you towards his rental car.

Once he opened and closed your door he slid over the hood in order to get to the driver's side. As he sat in his seat and closed the door you began to laugh at him. He pulled off and smiled at you.

"I missed that laugh Minnie. Been almost 20 years since I heard it" he stated glancing at you before focusing back on the road.

"It has been that long hasn't it?" You spoke up slightly turning to him as he made his way towards your family home. After all these years he still remembered where it was.

"Hell yeah and I've missed you girl" he said grabbing your left hand and caressing it. You smiled at him feeling yourself relax. The remainder of the ride was silent until he pulled up to the house.

"So, you think you'd be up to talk? I haven't had the chance to really have a one on one with you in a while" Chadwick asked.

You didn't feel up to it but you shrugged it off. It was just as much his problem as it was yours so why not? Maybe you'd get some closure from it.

"You wanna do this here or what?" He spoke as he turned to give you all of his attention.

"We can stay here and talk. It really doesn't matter" you shrugged a little nervous.

"Awe ok so let's go to the dock then." He said turning the car on and driving.

Together they sat on a bench in silence. It stayed that way for a while before Chadwick spoke up.

"You know it hurt me a lot when you left right?" He said not looking at you.

"It hurts too much for me to be here and be reminded of what happened" you spoke looking at him.

"I mean that didn't just effect you Minnie. It hurt your family as well as mine. We all were going through something" he said.

"Well everyone has their own way to grieve the dead Chad if I felt that leaving would benefit me why would I stay?" You spat back.

"Well damn it's always about you! Me me me what about how I felt? You weren't the only one to deal with that pain. I carry that shot around in me too y/n!" He spoke as his voice started to raise.

"WELL NOBODY ELSE WAS CARRYING THAT CHILD BUT ME! NOBODY FELT THOSE KICKS, THE MOVEMENT, THE CRAVINGS NONE OF IT! THAT WAS MY CHILD" you yelled not caring about who was around.

" That was my child too! I didn't only lose my baby I lost my lady too. The one I needed the most. You were the only one that felt and understood my pain. And you just up and left" he repeated.

You sighed before speaking " Chad we were both children, two 15 year olds having a baby. It took me months to wrap my head around that. And when...when we lost the baby right before I was set to leave, I felt horrible. It felt like my heart had gotten ripped out of my body and I had to watch it get ripped to shreds."

"And you thought still leaving would make it better" he spoke up softly watching as tears brimmed your eyes.

You sighed trying to compose yourself before breaking down. Your sobs shook your body as you tried to answer.n

"I-I don't know" you managed to get out as he stood there feeling his heart break.

"Can I hold you?" he asked just wanting to comfort you.

You nodded and ran into his open arms. He wrapped his arms around you rubbing your back as he repeatedly kissed your forehead.

"I'm so sorry Minnie. I should've been there for you. Im so sorry you had to go through that without me". You looked up whipping the tears from your eyes and responded

"Im sorry too Mickey, I should have let you be there for me. I should've been there for you too" you used your finger to trace a pattern in his chest.

"Shiiit we both here now if you wanna continue get some more shit off ya chest" he said pulling you to arms length.

"I'd like that"

"if you like it I love it baby. I'll be right back imma get some blankets"

You watched his tall frame jog back to where you stood and set down two blankets. He plopped down with a grunt before summoning you to sit next to him. once you were near him he sat you between his legs kissing your cheek.

"Now lay it on me girl" he spoke opening the pandoras box of emotions you were holding back for so long.

He was still willing to lend you a helping hand, shoulder to cry on, and an ear to vent to. You could always count on him, he would always be a holla away.

@nyneebey @lady-love-and-glitter-roses @autumn242 @royallyprincesslilly @lalapalooza718  @wakandawinning @brianabreeze @noontownstudio @airis-paris14 @dramaqueenamby @kumkaniudaku @wonderwoman292 @jokerslittlemunster 

[stan-uris-girl]

Caught - Richie x reader

Request by @tom-holla :hey!!!!! Can I request a richie one where reader has a big crush on him and he teases her about (she doesn’t know that he knows) and it’s all fluff?? Thank you so much!!:)

I write for all the boys and girl in the losers club but Stan is my main man and that's why he is in my username. But do feel free to request about the others!

Also, they are both 16 in this one since I wanted to try out writing about an older Richie. I hope that's okay.

Let's get going!

~

To say that you were oblivious was an under statement, you were practically blind in situations like this one. Not physically blind but socially.

You see, you had this very unfortunate crush on the one and only Richie Tozier. The local trashmouth that never failed to make you smile or laugh with one of his stupid jokes or crude remarks. He made your heart beat 100 miles an hour whenever he made physical contact with you, let that be a simple brush of hands or a hug. Now you might ask 'why is this so unfortunate?' and the answer to that question is, he is your best friend.

You knew how cliché it was, falling for your best friend but what can you do. You couldn't help it, you were just infatuated by the boy with the big glasses.

Everyone knew that this boy was all mouth and he could ramble on about anything and everything not to mention the teasing and dick jokes. But they also knew him as the boy with the glasses and a big crush on Y/N L/N. yet somehow she hadn't found out. Richie wasn't oblivious like she was, sure he wasn't the best at knowing when to stop joking but he knew when someone liked him or spending time with him. He saw it almost right away, all of the signs.

Okay, actually he didn't notice on his own. Beverly had told the idiot that the Y/H/C girl had a "big ol' case of love struck" and started to point out all of the little things she did. The way she shed little longing glances at him when he wasn't looking, the way the pairs hugs and high fives lingered just a bit longer than when they did the same actions with their other friends and the way she always was by his side whenever everything at home got too much and he just wished he could disappear into the earth and she would be right there to pick him back up and dust him off.

Subconsciously he did the same. Richie would look over at her whenever he was sure she wasn't stealing glances at him, he would stare at her to the point that his friends had started joking that he would have flies in his mouth if it was more agape.

Long story short, they were both head over heels for the other.

If you thought the teasing was bad before then prepare to be proved wrong by a landslide. Now the real mocking began. The boy with the big horn brimmed glasses shot sly comments your way as often as he had an opportunity to do so or in the middle of a conversation with the others in the losers club just quietly enough for only you to hear. It even went to the extent of him passing notes in class which was a hell of an experience when you two actually got caught and he had to read it out loud.

The two of you were stuck in year 11 history with the teacher going on about what had happened that previous weekend. So mister Gray wasn't paying attention too the two teens sat in the middle section of the classroom on the left side where the windows were placed, or so you thought.

Richie silently removed the corner of his notebook and started to scribble down a couple of words on the piece of paper. For a brief moment he looked over at you trying to thing of something to write down. His eyes graced your features, adoring them, but then he snapped back into reality and continued to write his little message. Just as he had folded the note messily and was in the action of passing it your way someone spoke up.

"So, Richie." His eyes snapped towards your teacher "If this is so important that it can't wait until we're finished then would you please read the note out loud so that the rest of us can be grazed by your surly very important conversation with Y/N" Mr.Gray shifted so that his weight was on the other foot while his glare burned right into Richie.

"Sure can do!" Richie said and pushed his glasses "this is meant for Y/N if you couldn't tell." Now you along with the others in the class was looking directly at him but his eyes were on you as he started to read the note "I was feeling a little off today, but you definitely turned me on. It's like I have a light switch on my forehead cause it happens every time you look at me"

Now the whole classroom was laughing at him, every kid but you. Your eyes were glued onto your desk as a blush crept onto your cheeks and a small, shy smile played on your lips. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, what if he saw you and just found it weird that you blushed since it was only one of his jokes. His eyes, on the other hand, were on you until he heard the teacher say something about detention after school. He was sure as hell not going to show up even if it meant more trouble later on.

Yet you still didn't realize that the boy mirrored your feelings with his own, you just thought that he was being his usual flirty self but you didn't notice how he stopped hitting on other girls.

Today all of the losers were going to hangout together at the quarry. No swimming of course since it was far too cold. With all the leaves turning yellow and shades of orange and falling into the water along with the ground and Eddie frantically rambling about how 'all the leaves carried at least 26 different types of bacteria' and how 'you would get sick out of your mind if you went swimming when it's this cold'.

You, Mike and Stan were the ones with cars so today you three acted as chauffeurs. Bev, Eddie and Bill were all riding with Stan since they had hung out earlier that day, Ben was going with Mike because apparently Mike wanted to show him something in his truck. If you didn't know any better you would think that they had all rigged it so that you and Richie were left alone.

But you happily complied and drove to Richie's house. Guns N' roses was blasting on your stereo and your sweater covered hands tapped the steering wheel slightly along with the music. Soon enough you found yourself outside of the curly headed boy's home. You honked loudly and a couple of seconds later he emerged and jogged slightly across his driveway. He was wearing a black hoodie along with black jeans, simple but it made you blush a little.

He still occasionally wore Hawaiian shirts with a white t-shirt underneath just like he did when you were 14 but now they were more toned down if the idea of wearing one struck him. Now he wore more blacks, maroons and grays and you weren't complaining. Not that you would be under any other other circumstances because he's Richie damn Tozier, he'd look good in anything.

He flung open the car door and plopped down into the seat next to yours and shut it again. You started driving off towards the quarry while he was still buckling his seat belt. The two of you were going to arrive early but it doesn't really matter. Suddenly he turned off the music and turned towards you who was still focused on the road.

"Hey, Y/N" he spoke with a slight smile on his lips.

"Yeah?" you answered as you turned the wheel slightly and bit your bottom lip as you concentrated.

"You know what this shirt is made of?" now he looked even more mischievous if that was even possible.

"I swear to god Richie. If you say boyfriend material I will personally kick you -"you were cut short.

"It's boyfriend material" Richie said while a smirk played on his lips and you let out a small chuckle and now you bit down your smile once again but this time to keep you from spilling all your feelings.

Your once slightly irritated face had turned red and you looked down for a moment just to fight back the urge to explain everything from start to finish, how you fell in love with him every day. Every DAMN DAY. How you tried to keep yourself from blushing and smiling at his cheesy pickup lines and the teasing. You couldn't contain yourself any more.

The light shifted slightly as you started to drive through the woods, it now reflected in patches due to the few leaves that still clung hopefully to the trees. Richie's eyes traveled between the beautiful scenery out the window and you. He silently reached for your free hand and intertwined his long and lanky fingers with yours, they fit together perfectly.

You stopped the car and twisted the keys in the ignition to turn it off, slightly shifted in your seat and got out of the car. The cold and harsh autumn air hit your face in a way that sent shivers down your spine. Another thud could be heard as Richie got out of the other side of the car and a little splash followed that as his beaten up boots touched the ground.

"Hey, Richie" his eyes snapped to meet your gaze "I kinda need to talk to you" you said while scratching the back of your neck and walked over to sit on the hood of your car but on the passenger side. You sighed shakily and looked over the beautiful quarry. All the tree shad turned yellow and orange and they reflected down onto the water beneath.

"Yeah, what's up?" Richie asked while moving to stand in front of you. He basically only got this serious when you two were alone but even if it was only you and him it was a rarity. He felt it in the air this time though, this wasn't time for jokes.

"So I kinda like you" you stated while turning a light shade of red and fought a smile "I've liked you for a while now and- actually no, I've been in love with you for a while now and I'm tried of trying to act like the teasing doesn't affect me." the explanation felt so natural, but you couldn't imagine looking into his eyes now that he probably was thinking of a way to reject you.

"I love you too, you couldn't be more obvious though" at that you both laughed and you looked upwards towards him just to lock eyes with him.

"Is that so mr.Tozier?" you asked with a sly grin on your face while Richie now good in between your legs and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Yeah, your worse at hiding things than Bill is at uttering an entire sentence without stuttering for fucks sake" now he was so close to your face that you could feel his warm breath on your face while he leaned down to look at you directly instead of the biting air that the fall provided.

Suddenly his lips were attached to yours. It took a second to react to the motion but soon enough you responded to his actions. Now your hands found his messy hair and you ran your fingers through it. Richie's hand found your waist to pull you impossible closer. Apparently he felt the need to deepen the kiss so he brought one of his large hands to the back of your neck, now this had turned into a full on make out session. Not that you were complaining, it was just a bit unexpected. If someone had told you earlier in the morning that you would be sitting on your car making out with Richie Tozier later today you would have laughed straight into their face, 'cause you were sure you didn't have the balls to be upfront with your best friend.

"WOAH, well hello to you guys too!" Stan exclaimed with eyes going wide and swiftly looked away, you and Richie broke apart. He and the others had obviously turned up without either of you noticing.

You had been caught. Whoops?

~

Hope you lot enjoyed!

[im-just-another-teen-blog2]

Help Me. (Boy Problems)

Do you have that one person? That one person that you’ve known your whole life. I have one. His name is CJ. And obviously if you’ve known someone for so long you’re going to develop feelings sooner or later. For me, it was sooner. 

Our moms were best friends and they worked together so CJ and I hung out a lot. This then led to me having my first kiss with him under his mom’s work desk. I had had the biggest crush on him FOREVER! Then he moved away. He didn’t move that far away but far enough to where I didn’t see him anymore.

           Flash-forward to middle school, he came back. And in middle school I would like to say that I had grown since I was like 6. But as soon as I saw him again the feelings just came back to me. And now, because my mom had to work late every night, my sisters and I would go to his mom’s house because she would take care of us. This meant that I had extended CJ time.

           So, at CJ’s house he had the big log play place thing, I don’t know what they’re called, and we would always play on there. So, one day me and him are out there on the top of the play place right when you are about to go down the slide and nobody else was outside. It was getting dark too. We were sitting there talking about school and stuff and then the topic suddenly changed to if we liked each other. This conversation went on and then I felt like he wanted to kiss me and I wanted to kiss him. BUT THEN out of nowhere, his mom yells for us to come inside because it was getting to dark. So close.

           Then, CJ moves back to where he had moved before for reasons I don’t know. At this point in time I get a girlfriend. Yes, I’m bisexual. Deal with it. But then me and her just don’t work out which a completely different story. THEN, CJ moves back to where I live. He moved back and forth a lot. So he is at the school, mind you we are still in middle school, and he is super popular. OH! And I almost forgot. Because we were so close and our moms were like best friends we just called each other cousins and told other people we were cousins which was stupid and I wish we never did that. Anyways, so he was super popular and I am not. And during this time we talk to each other here and there. I go to his house occasionally. THEN freshman year happens.

           Freshman year was crazy. So, first day of high school and I’m completely lost. Then, who do I see? CJ. And it made me so happy. So I hung out with him until the bell rang, and my first day of freshman year is a whole different story as well. Anyways, fast forward a little. I have to babysit CJ’s little brother. Which I always thought was weird because CJ was the same age as me and totally capable of taking care of his brother but whatever. So anyways, during this time CJ has a girlfriend. Her name is Hailey. They had been going out for a few months and it made me kind of upset. BUT while I was at his house he seemed a little too friendly. If I was in a room he would follow me into that room and be right next to me. So I go into his mom’s room because that’s where his little brother was watching SpongeBob. He follows me in there and then pushes me up against the wall. He tried to kiss me but I got scared and I swerved it. This, I regret to this day. After that he kept trying to get alone with me because not only were him and I there. My little sister and his other brother who was younger than him but older than the one I was babysitting was there. So he couldn’t be THAT alone with me. But then this dude has the BRILLIANT idea of playing hide and seek with the kids. So of course I play because I have a child brain and can never pass up a game of hide and seek. So, I hide in his closet in his room. I hear my little sister counting and then CJ comes into the closet with me. Before I know it he is kissing me and THEN his tongue was in my mouth and a lot of stuff was happening all at once. I’m not saying that I wasn’t kissing him back. I definitely was. I’m just saying I wasn’t expecting it. The kissing went on for not that long before I felt him hand on my boob. And listen, I am not a prude. I was okay with this. THIS IS ALL JUST VERY UNEXPECTED! SO, then his hand is not only on my boob but in my shirt, in my bra on my boob. Now, call me crazy but I don’t think that someone should be going to second base with someone that isn’t their girlfriend. But then after all of this happened I confessed that I really liked him and that I wanted to be with him but then he totally rejected me and I felt like shit.

           Freshman year goes by and somewhere in freshman year CJ moves back to where he was for reasons I kind of can’t say. Now, it’s sophomore year. No CJ. So, I get switched into another English class because my schedule was all messed up, blah, blah, blah. So I get put in class with my best friend Randi. Holla to you girl, love you! Anyways, she has a really good friend in that class named Dylan. Dylan, I wouldn’t say is very attractive but neither is CJ. They aren’t ugly but they aren’t cute. But in my opinion CJ is better looking than Dylan. ANYWAYS, I start talking to his guy and we become good friends and what do you know, little ole’ me has to catch feelings. So I start liking Dylan and this goes on for a month or two before Randi finds out. You know when you have this crush and you know you are so close to actually getting with them? Well, that’s how I felt with Dylan. But, with my luck, CJ suddenly comes back to our school. I saw him in the hallway on the way to fifth period the day after he got back and I felt, okay. But then that night, CJ sends me a text: “(Insert My Name Here) I’m just gonna say it and idk I kind of  want to get this off my chest, but I like you a lot. Idk, when I saw you, I was really happy. Idk, I wanted to say sorry for the way I was back then, I know I was ignorant and stupid and I kind of just left you hanging even tho I knew you liked me and I hope you can forgive me. Idk what happen between my mom and yours but I know your mom is good and I hope my mom could find it in her heart to forgive her because I miss seeing y'all, I’m sorry I know you have a lot of stuff to do but I just really needed to get this off my chest. I hope you understand.” Like, BITCH WHAT?! This text made my heart drop. Everything I wanted was right in front of me so why didn’t I want it. I liked Dylan and I was so close to being with Dylan. I talked to Randi about this text and she told me to blow it off so that is exactly what I did. I went along with me liking Dylan and now Dylan is my boyfriend. So why am I not happy? Dylan is a great guy. It’s just that… It’s CJ. And I’ve made myself resist saying it out loud but I love CJ. I’m only 16 years old but I’ve known CJ for 16 years and we have so much history. "Okay person who is writing this, why don’t you just dump Dylan and get with CJ." Well, here is a list of reasons why:

1.    The whole school thinks we’re cousins.

2.    I don’t want to hurt Dylan’s feelings.

3.    I don’t like the person CJ has become but he is the same CJ I know when he is around me.

4.    I don’t know if CJ will break my heart again.

I know that this is typical high school shit no one cares about, but I’ve been feeling like shit because I don’t want Dylan, I want CJ. But Dylan is Randi’s best friend too and I don’t want Randi to feel weird if we break up. And, Dylan’s best friend is Randi’s boyfriend and Randi’s boyfriend is my friend. Everything is just so confusing and I don’t know what to do. Help.

[chromecutie]

Not A Ghost - part 20

A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.

Taglist: @emma-frxst  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @holamor ​  @empressme-bitch  @marvel-is-perfection  @hazilyimagine ​ @marvelhead17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash ​ @whitewitchdown ​ @master-sass-blast ​ @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

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Piotr figured if he waited long enough, Rhonda would get hungry enough to come to the kitchen for some dinner. His patience was rewarded when she came in with an all too familiar satisfied smile and heavy breathing. She only smiled like that after dancing to some music she was really excited about.

Rhonda filled a glass of water from the dispenser in the fridge, drank almost the whole thing right away, and refilled it before turning and smiling at Piotr over the glass. She leaned against the counter by the fridge, a certain ease in her relaxed slouch.

“Had some fun?” he still couldn’t stop smiling at her green and yellow hair.

She nodded and hummed her affirmative as she drank another half glass of water.

“Are you going to eat tonight?” Piotr crossed the kitchen, leaving the big granite island between them.

Blowing some hair out of her face, she huffed, “Yes, I’m starving.” She angled toward the fridge, but Piotr was already opening it to pull out a few casserole dishes.

“Good answer,” he chided. Holding up two options, he asked, “Spaghetti or stir fry?” She made a face like he had just asked her if she would rather visit London or Paris. He let her struggle with her indecision for all of three seconds before he said, “Some of both, then.” With a little snicker and a wink, he plated almost twice what should be considered a normal portion of food. 

“Oh my god,” Rhonda laughed, “You know I can’t eat all that!”

Piotr knew better, but he played along and shrugged, “I will finish whatever you don’t eat, but I don’t want to put all this away just to have you--” he imitated a whiny voice, “Ooh, I’m still hungry, I need more!”

The microwave dinged and they sat at the table for Rhonda to eat -- with her third full glass of water. She ate a few bites of stir fry, then switched to the spaghetti, back and forth. Her husband’s cooking had always been good, but it was even better lately. Maybe he had found better recipes, maybe she had gotten so used to prison food, or maybe she was just ravenous from a few solid hours of dancing. 

As she ate, Piotr teased, “So, how was Mr. Hozier?” 

Sipping at her water, Rhonda answered between bites, “He made me forget how out of practice I am.” After handling a particularly big bite of spaghetti, she elaborated, “I tried to do some certain jetés, not thinking about it, but I can’t jump as high as I used to, my timing was off, stuff like that.” She sounded mildly disappointed, but mostly analytical.

“You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” Piotr barely resisted the urge to glance at her ankles, remembering all the times she had downplayed injuries like broken toes, bruised knees, or twisted ankles.

She shrugged it off, “Nah, no worse than I ever have.” For the look Piotr shot at her, she insisted, “I’m fine, really. What about you? How’s your evening been?”

Piotr held out his hand for her fork, and he stole a bite or two of stir fry before giving it back. “A lot of paperwork. I’m not on field duty, but I’m curating files, coordinating some things.”

“You miss it?” Rhonda asked softly. “Field work?” She wiped a stray spot of sauce off her mouth.

He hesitated, searching her face. Her shoulders had gone rigid when she asked. It had been a couple months since she had returned home, and he had barely left the house in that time. Of course he missed working on missions -- going out and handling young mutants losing control or adult mutants who had lost their way and turned criminal. Finally, he replied, “Not as much as I missed you.” Piotr took her almost empty glass and got her more water. “There will be more time in the field later. For now, what I want most is to know you are doing well.”

His cheerful smile melted the tension in her shoulders, and she resumed eating, but he could tell she had something she wasn’t saying. 

Rhonda looked down at her plate and realized there was only one bite of stir fry left and maybe two bites of spaghetti. Except for the bites Piotr had stolen, however, she’d had a huge dinner. Leaning back in her chair, she nudged her plate away from her. “I told you I couldn’t eat all that, babe.”

He slapped his thigh with a clank as he laughed, “I knew you would eat most of it!” His hearty laugh faded to a chuckle as he finished off the last few bites and pushed the plate aside to take her hand. Piotr let out a soft exhale as he studied her dark eyes and the fine lines around them when she smiled. His own expression faded as he schooled his features to something more neutral. “Sladkaya,” he began delicately, “Earlier today, with Russell.” Rhonda’s smile faltered and her brows started to furrow. “What did he...did he call you...Guestbook?”

She instinctively pulled away from his hand, just a fraction of an inch, but just before she fully broke contact with his steel fingers, Rhonda leaned closer to him and held her husband’s hand with both of hers. “It was,” her voice came out in a raspy whisper before she cleared her throat and started again. “It’s what they called me in the Icebox.” When she raised her eyes to meet his, they had that haunted look she got whenever she shared any details about what happened there. “I don’t want to ever hear or say that name again, if I can help it.”

The chair screeched on the floor as Rhonda suddenly pushed her chair back and made to leave the kitchen, but Piotr gently caught her around the waist. “Of course, sladkaya.” His long fingers spread over her ribs. He eyed the green sleeve that covered her right arm. “If there is anything I can do to help you, please tell me.”

Her throat too tight to speak, Rhonda nodded, and before the tears welling up could fall, she slipped her arms around her husband’s neck. He shifted in the chair to give her space to stand between his legs. Rhonda gave him a few kisses on the cheek before fully pressing herself against him in a tight embrace. He held her as tight as he could without risking some bruised ribs; his steel armor didn’t have the same give as his unarmored form. “[My sweet wife, I love you,]” he murmured in Russian against her ear. When she took a deep breath, he loosened his hold slightly.

“I think I could go for a shower,” she kissed her way from his cheek to his lips again. “I know it’s kinda early, but I’m ready for bed. Would you come sit with me for a while?”

Piotr took another taste of her lips before saying, “Of course,” and following her upstairs.

--

The next day, Rhonda was so sore she could hardly move. Piotr teased her about getting older and said she couldn’t roll around like the was twenty anymore. All the same, he brought her a protein shake in bed and massaged her feet and calves until she felt good enough to get up and start her day.

Piotr went about his day of handling paperwork and compiling case files while Rhonda continued working with the light bulbs and relearning how to stretch her abilities. To try to ease her soreness, she also did very light dance work, and stretched as much as she could. The sleeve cut from Yukio’s tights stayed in place pretty well while dancing, and Rhonda decided she would have to ask where she could get more. It definitely made it easier to walk around in tank tops without pulling on hoodies or cardigans.

In the afternoon, Rhonda checked in with Hank, who was developing ways to test the strength and control of her electrical charges, and it seemed like she was making a decent recovery, if still slow. “I think you’re ready to start practicing in the Danger Room, if you want to try a low-level simulation,” Hank suggested.

A cold feeling flitted over her as she remembered the echoing emptiness. “No, I can’t go back in there.”

--

Rhonda’s routine became less predictable over the next week or so. Ororo, Ellie, and Yukio had started insisting Rhonda join them for breakfasts, lunches, and afternoon coffee. Rhonda loosened up a bit and started to enjoy these low-pressure, small setting hangouts, but it was hard to shake off an underlying discomfort. Yukio had been right - maybe Rhonda was spending too much time on her own. Despite this, the feeling nagged at her that an hour for coffee was an hour lost that she should have been practicing dance or rehabilitating her electrical abilities.

Piotr grew worried when he started seeing dark circles return under his wife’s eyes. She was eating enough, she wasn’t waking up from nightmares as often anymore, and she was in bed at a reasonable hour. Despite looking tired, she also looked focused and happy. To his surprise, he realized she also wasn’t constantly looking over her shoulder and actually held her head high when she walked. “You walk like yourself again,” he noted, “Shoulders back, toes turned out, like the dancer I’ve always known.” She smiled at the comment, but the dark circles worried him. While she was busy at lunch or something else Yukio and Ellie had talked her into, he checked the sedatives on her nightstand. It looked like she had stopped taking them, because there were a lot more pills than he expected.

At bedtime, Piotr stayed awake, pretending to sleep. He waited, and after an hour or two, he heard Rhonda stir beside him. He kept still, listening to the sheets rustling as she got up and tiptoed around the room. She hardly made a sound, even taking care to miss the one creaky floorboard near the closet. When the bedroom door clicked shut, Piotr waited another few minutes before sitting up and turning on his bedside lamp. 

Rhonda had taken her phone and the speaker from her nightstand, and her pajama shorts were laid out on her side of the bed. Piotr guessed she changed into some leggings, and also noted her old hoodie was gone from its spot on a chair. 

After careful consideration, Piotr decided not to get up and go look for her. Instead, he would wait to see how long she was gone. He thought it was possible that she stopped taking the sedatives, but still had trouble sleeping, so maybe she was taking walks in the middle of the night to help her sleep. He turned off his lamp and waited some more. It took a solid three hours before he heard the door open and softly click shut again, and the barely audible sound of her feet ghosting over the floor. There was a rustling of fabric, and Piotr guessed she was changing back into her pajama shorts or putting her hoodie back on the chair where she liked to keep it.

In the morning, he noticed a little dirt caked around her fingers and toes, but said nothing. He let them go about their day, following their respective routines. At night, Rhonda got up again, and again Piotr waited in silence, pretending to sleep. After a waiting a while, bored, he turned on his side toward the window, and saw bright flashes of lightning through the shades. He frowned, thinking it was weird he didn’t hear any rain or thunder. Then he realized there was something rhythmic about the flashes of lightning.

Piotr got out of bed and pulled back the drapes to look out the window, and saw the flashes weren’t coming from the sky, but somewhere on the ground. Another bright flash drew his eye and he saw Rhonda, near the old lamp post and bench.

She was cartwheeling and turning wildly on the grass, the same patch of lawn where she had sprawled after the Danger Room, and arcing brilliant pale green electrical charges from her hands and feet. Piotr watched for a minute, stunned, before noticing she was playing Hozier on her speaker.

The music layered earthy, deep drums and a twangy guitar that sounded like it had wandered in from an old blues song. Piotr was too far away to place the song or the lyrics as he watched Rhonda dance. She dove into a handstand, strong legs waving and wheeling around before throwing them past her head, which arched her back and carried her back to her feet. She leaped high in the air -- and tumbled to the ground, feet over shoulders. For a nerve wracking second, Piotr gasped, and relaxed once he saw her roll smoothly back to her feet, as if it were all one motion. The dramatic fake-fall-and-tumble was one of Rhonda’s signature moves that she loved incorporating into her performances. Piotr shook his head at himself, feeling ridiculous for having forgotten. All the while, Rhonda flashed lightning from all her limbs in time with the claps in the beat, streaking over the grass and high in the air.

As quietly as he could, Piotr climbed down from the balcony and crept closer. She was so beautiful, the way she moved, hair flying and no regard for how much grass and dew and dirt she got on herself. Rhonda didn’t move with the same flexibility and fluidity that she used to; there was something rougher, more raw than Piotr remembered. This was new, and he loved it.

One song ended and another began. Closer, Piotr could finally hear the vocals more clearly, and he was utterly transfixed. He was able to recognize part of the chorus:

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I’ll crawl home to her

A weight settled in Piotr’s heart. He remembered their picnic on her grave and how she had been so quiet, staring at her headstone with a stern brow. It wasn’t just that Rhonda was dancing, she was processing something. 

He dared get just a little closer -- an arc of lightning snaked through the grass and Piotr stifled a grunt when it hit his bare feet. The sound was enough to draw her attention.

Rhonda paused and locked eyes with him. Her green hair was a tangled, sweaty mess, and torn pieces of grass were stuck all over her bare arms. Just when Piotr was afraid she would be angry, she smiled. It was an impish grin, like he had come across an actual mythical creature who was about to enthral him with her dance until twenty years went by without his notice. 

She went to her phone and tapped a few times, glancing at Piotr as she restarted “Work Song.” For a moment, she stood still, except for the heaving of her chest as she panted. Then she moved. She closed her eyes and let her limbs make slow, lazy lines. Her head rolled, the yellow tips of hair caught the lamp light. 

There’s nothing sweeter than my baby

I’d never want once from a cherry tree

Cause my baby’s sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin’ me 

Piotr let out a soft gasp when he realized he’d been holding his breath. Every time her eyes found his, her lips pulled in a smile that was sweet and wistful. She still flashed her lightning in a way that artfully meshed with the music, but she was careful to send the bolts upward so they wouldn’t hit her husband, just a few feet away from her with his bare metal feet on the grass.

Weak in the knees, Piotr beamed until the elation and love he felt was overwhelming. He let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Rhonda seemed to melt until she was a fluid mess of shoulders and spine and hips on the grass. She rolled and twisted on the ground, adding a sensual edge that made Piotr desperately want to put his hands on her and feel every inch of her curves. He knew better than to interrupt his wife when she was dancing, but the desire was there.

The song ended, and Rhonda sat up on her knees, showing her teeth in an exhausted grin. “I’m sorry if I woke you,” she said just loud enough to be heard over the beginning of the next song. 

Piotr rushed to pull her up into his arms and spin around, burying his face in her hair. “You are amazing,” he chuffed breathlessly. 

Rhonda circled her arms around his neck, bracing her toes against his legs. She pressed her cheek against his, and with the steel of his back under her fingers, realized he was out on the front lawn in just his underwear. “Did you jump off the balcony?”

He chuckled sheepishly, “I was afraid I would miss it if I took time to use the stairs.” He supported her weight with an arm around her waist, and pulled back to brush her hair away from her face with his free hand. “I have been wondering when you would let me see you dance again!” Piotr’s brows twitched together with concern, “Why sneak out in the middle of the night like this?”

Rhonda pressed a soft kiss to his steel cheek and rested her face against it. “It’s just…” she sighed, “It’s been hard to be around people, and...it feels so good to be outside and moving and touching something that’s not concrete and rebar.” She gave him an extra squeeze. “Does that make sense?”

With a sigh, he returned her warm squeeze and she felt his voice rumble through his chest. “You are not in the Icebox, sladkaya. Do you feel like you must hide from your friends?"

Rhonda tapped his shoulder and he let her slide back down to her feet. She went to turn off the music and grab her phone and speaker. In the quiet dark, she answered softly, "It's not that simple." She took a seat on a little garden bench next to some shrubs. "I'm not in that place anymore, but I still can't dance like I used to, talk to people like I used to... being there has changed how I do everything in my life now."

Shuffling his feet through the damp grass, Piotr came to sit beside her on the bench, listening.

"I'm different now, and I know everyone can tell, but they either ignore it or treat me like glass," she huffed, then added with an edge of surprise as she realized for the first time, "Except Michelle." Resting her head against her husband's shoulder, she continued, "I just think if everyone was paying attention, you'd all treat me with some reservation, like Michelle does."

He slipped an arm around her, as much to pull her closer as to keep her bare arms warm in the night air. "Has it occurred to you," he asked, "that we know you're different, and we love you just as we always have?"

"I am marked as a murderer," her jaw grew tight, clenching her teeth to keep her emotions from spilling too much. "How can anyone trust me in a house full of children?"

The answer was so obvious to him, he was baffled that she didn't see it herself. "The things you did, you haven’t told me much, but from what you have said -- you acted against your values, your nature. And it bothers you.” He shook his head, "If those things bother you, then deep down, you are still the same person we love. I love.” Glancing up at the stars, Piotr rubbed her arm, took a breath and said, “I think it’s important for you to forgive yourself and move forward.”

Nestled against him, she took a minute to let his answer sink in, mull it over. “I’ll try,” she said, “I mean, I’ve been trying, but...it’s hard. Sometimes the only thing that makes sense is music and moving.” Rhonda looked up at her husband, with his square jaw and chiseled cheeks. It had always been easy to talk to him, pour her heart out, but the Icebox had changed that too. She was afraid he just couldn’t understand, and that if he ever did, she wouldn’t be able to handle his disappointment. “And all this?” she flicked a little shot of lightning off into the grass. “This is all flash. Hank read me the volts and amperage and they aren’t anything useful. Not like when I could power an abandoned warehouse or overload the circuit breakers.” She chewed her lip, trying in vain to stave off tears, dreading saying it aloud: “I’m barely even a mutant anymore.” She concluded scornfully, “I’m a human party trick.”

 “Rhonda!” he gasped incredulously. Piotr left the bench to kneel in front of her, and made sure she was looking at his face. His brows met in a hard, angry line. For a moment, he just stared into her face as her teardrop tattoos were slicked with actual tears. Her four-fingered right hand clutched her phone and speaker. His furrow softened as he exhaled. Smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks, he said firmly, “Being a mutant has never been about whatever special thing you can do. Being a mutant is about adapting in order to survive.” Piotr paused, then continued slowly, “You were in dire circumstances that you would not have survived, but you adapted. And for that, you are every bit as mutant as the rest of us, even if you never light another spark again. Do you understand?”

Rhonda sniffled. Her face scrunched as she fought to control her tears, deliberately taking the slowest breaths she could manage so they wouldn’t come out as sobs. Eventually, she nodded. 

“Okay,” Piotr said in a soft whisper, “okay.” He laid his hands on hers and rubbed them. “[Rhonda, I love you. You deserve better than hurting all the time.]” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “[You must be exhausted. Ready to go back to bed?]”

Smearing away some tears with her knuckles, she replied, “[Yeah...one more dance first?]” Under the lamp and the stars, he saw her muster the slightest smile.

“[Of course, my love. I’ll watch from the bench here.]”

[chromecutie]

Not a Ghost - part 2

A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.

Taglist: @emma-frxst  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @holamor ​  @empressme-bitch  @marvel-is-perfection  @hazilyimagine ​ @marvel-forever-17 (also @angstybadboytrash ​ @whitewitchdown ​ and @master-sass-blast ​ had expressed interest on my original pitch post. Please let me know if you’d rather not be on the taglist). Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

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He made her repeat it at least twice. It just didn’t make sense. Colossus held his wife’s face between his hands and took in the dark hollows under her eyes. He slid to his knees and as he descended he saw the calluses, bruises, and scabs on her neck, the rest of her skin covered by the grey t-shirt and yellow jumpsuit. Seeing evidence of so much fighting and pain, and overwhelmed by memories of his own fear and grief from searching and mourning, he pulled his arms tight around her and buried his face into her chest. “My wife is home,” he sobbed softly, “My wife is home.”

The instant he had reached for her, Rhonda had thrown her arms around his head and shoulders to hold him as well. She said, “I’m home, sweetheart. I missed you so much.”

They stayed that way for some time, clutching each other and crying. Rhonda pressed a kiss to the top of Piotr’s head and held it. The last time she had seen him, he didn’t take metal form except to work. Something must have happened, but she couldn’t make herself ask.

He stood, lifting her with him like she weighed next to nothing. They settled on the bed. Rhonda curled her legs over Piotr’s lap like they had done so many times before. It was the way they sat after every hard day, as long as they had been together. Still, Rhonda couldn’t make herself speak.

“We looked for you,” Piotr finally interrupted the quiet sniffles. His voice was strained. “After the building collapsed, we sifted through every bit, and...nothing. No body, no...stray piece of your uniform. Nothing.” His hand found its way over Rhonda’s hair. “I searched every hospital in the area - burn patients, coma, brain injuries, amnesia. I looked at every Jane Doe. And I--” he swallowed a sob, “I searched morgues. More Jane Does. Never you.”

Rhonda took a breath like she might say something, then let it out, still silent.

“Professor tried Cerebro. I begged him to keep trying, every day. Always nothing. Eventually we…” He gave her a squeeze, as if he could pull her into himself and protect her forever.

Rhonda pressed her face against his steel chest until it hurt, but it didn’t matter.

Piotr hissed, “The Icebox, that place - if I had known, if I had ever suspected...” He pulled away just enough to look into his wife’s face and continued, “I would have torn the place down with my bare hands. Brick by brick.”

Her hard brow softened as she answered, “I know.” She traced arcs on his back. “I wrote letters...when you didn’t come tearing the place down, I knew it was because my letters weren’t getting out.”

Piotr held her maimed hand and asked softly, “How did you end up in the Icebox?”

Rhonda frowned. She had been in and out of consciousness when it happened, and there were a few gaps in her memory that she had never been able to fill. She told him what she could, “When we got separated, and the fire was really getting bad, the DMC showed up. They rounded up the mutant gang...and me.” She sighed. “They never read us our rights, no mugshots, no lawyers, phone call, nothing.” Her free hand went to her neck, absently fidgeting. “The collar went on. They took away my uniform, made me wear this jumpsuit,” Rhonda sniffed and whispered, “they took my ring. And that was it for processing.”

Piotr burned with all the questions he wanted to ask. He was astonished that the DMC would lock up someone who was obviously X-Men, and for them to ignore the due process that’s supposed to be a given for every other American citizen - it made him want to go tear the place up on principle. But his wife in his arms was the immediate concern. Some marks on her wrist peeked out from under the sleeve, and he pulled it up just a bit to see more. Her forearm was laced with messily tattooed X’s, and they disappeared into her sleeve.

She stiffened briefly, and pulled her hand from his grasp so she could pull the sleeve back down. “Um, could I...could I take a shower?”

With a small gasp, he replied, “Of course! I’m sorry I hadn’t offered yet. Yes, yes.”

Piotr led her to the bathroom, as if she was a guest, and pulled out a clean towel for her. He even put the water running to warm up, and hesitated. “I still have some of your clothes. I can lay something out for you?”

Her eyes still misty, she nodded and even gave a weak smile, “I’d like that.”

Without another word, she stripped and ducked into the hot shower. Piotr watched for a minute, realizing the X’s spanned almost her entire right arm, much of her torso, and scattered over her right leg as well. He noticed assorted bruises - fresh ones were black or purple, older ones faded to a sickly yellow. Her skin was dull like she hadn’t been in the sunlight in ages. Her skin also puckered in a few spots, and he realized they were scars from being stabbed. Piotr sighed and went to his closet.

In the very back, behind his hanging clothes and hidden by spare work boots, there was a box of things he simply hadn’t been able to part with after Rhonda had been presumed dead. A knot in his chest loosened as he pulled out one of her favorite off-duty outfits. It was just pajama pants, a tank top, and a long duster cardigan, but he laid them on the bed with the utmost care as if it was an exquisitely beaded gown. He hadn’t saved any underwear or socks, but he could go get some soon.

In the shower, Rhonda tried not to think about the very feminine shampoo, conditioner, and high end bar soap that she was using. It clearly all belonged to that other woman, the one who had called her husband Petey. She couldn’t make herself think about that for very long. For a few minutes, she stood just letting the hot water run over her, eyes closed, relishing a shower that was just a shower. No deals to broker, no looking over her shoulder, no one waiting to stab or be stabbed. Except for the rushing of the shower itself, it was also mercifully quiet. The Icebox had always been full of noise. Yelling, laughing, fighting, talking had all carried throughout the prison, even when everyone was supposed to be asleep. The quiet was almost unsettling.

As Rhonda dried off, she wrapped the towel tight and scuffed her way back into the bedroom. Piotr watched her dress, and she tried not to let on how uncomfortable she felt. She had gotten used to most of her scars and marks, but letting her husband see them made them all too noticeable to her again. Pulling on her favorite old pants, tank top, and sweater gave her comfort, until she realized they hung a little strangely on her now.

“You’re thinner,” Piotr noted.

Rhonda scoffed, “The food wasn’t very good there.”

He smiled gently and brushed a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “A few home cooked dinners will fix that.” He pulled her into a hug again and kissed her head. “I’m sorry if your clothes smell stale...they have been in storage almost six years.”

The bottom of Rhonda’s stomach fell away. “Six? I’ve been gone six years?” This meant they had been separated longer than they had been married, or been together at all.

“Sometimes it felt like a lifetime,” Piotr said sadly.