#this time mostly because i frizzed up her hair because it was more fun and looked cool

[tekablade-chronicles-3]

another Hulkenberg

[pynkhues]

C&C prompts!!!!! someone is sick?? preferably someone who is a horrific patient and it's early enough in that the whole little family unit is still trying to find their footing together and the whole thing's a mess???

Attempting this challenge has been a real reminder that I am no good at short things, haha, but look! 2k isn’t too bad for me????? 

(I hope you like it 😘)

Set in The Center & Circumference Universe.

(Early in the relationship, as requested ;-))

-

It goes like this:

Elizabeth sneezes.

She sneezes and it ain’t some cute little ladylike nothin’ sneeze neither. It’s some loud, fucked-up-sinus, mucous-mouthed thing that echoes around the warehouse and makes everyone stop working, and shit, even Demon looks taken aback. Rio bites his tongue, gaze sliding from him back to Elizabeth, who suddenly stands up taller to meet his look, squares her shoulders, and he has the sudden, vivid memory of Jane doing this at the foot of their bed last week.

“What?”

And yeah, Jane had said that too.

Elizabeth though, she’s got this indignant edge to her voice that means she’s getting defensive, like her hair ain’t frizzing at her sweaty temples, like her skin ain’t flushed, peaked, her eyes ain’t starting to water, and he’d known it this morning before she’d left ahead of him for school run, but okay - - maybe he’d let himself believe her. Maybe he’d let her bat those baby blues at him, let her distract him by leaving the top couple of buttons undone on her ugly floral blouse so he could see the flushed curve of her breast, let her tell him - -

Rio works his jaw, huffs out a breath.

“You said you were good.”

“I am good,” she says right away, voice a little too loud, like he won’t hear the hoarseness that way and when Rio squints at her, she flails out a wobbly hand. “It’s allergies.”

He pops an eyebrow at that.

“In July?”

Behind him, Demon snorts on a laugh, and he sees Elizabeth’s focus snap to him, her own jaw rock, the flush at her cheeks deepening. She shifts her weight, side-to-side, and that ain’t good either, because she looks halfway to wobbling too far and topplin’ over, but still, she blinks.

Takes too long to blink.

Like her eyes close and she doesn’t entirely wanna reopen them.

She does though, just enough to glare.

“Not all allergies are seasonal,” she says, and her voice cracks a little at the end, and he can see it – how much she needs to sit down, and he’s of half a mind to get her arm over his shoulder and drag her over to a seat, but also is she really tryna play him like this?

It’s the latter thought that wins out, because - - whatever. He’ll catch her if she passes out.  

“So it ain’t got nothin’ to do with last week?” he asks, and shit, it’s like some game of chicken, because Elizabeth firms her look, wets her lips, tilts up her chin.  

“I’d tell you if it was.”

And this has pretty clearly proven she wouldn’t, but still, Rio rolls his shoulders back, and turns on his heel, starts walking again to the meeting room in the back where they’re supposed to be hearing a pitch from some new associate, because fine, if this is what they’re doing, it ain’t no skin off his nose. And okay, maybe they set up in the meeting and he spends most of the time watching her, because her skin’s less flushed now and more paper pale, and maybe she wobbles a little in her seat as she trains glazed eyes on the kid pitchin’ them the idea for smugglin’ hormone pills to Cleveland across Lake Erie, and maybe she tries to subtly swipe at her damp forehead as she curls her hair behind her ears and maybe he can hear her swallowing coughs, and maybe he should’ve taken her home before she passed out, but, y’know, he said he’d catch her, and he did, so he can’t really be faulted for that.

 *

 Last week went something like this:

Danny sneezed.

Danny sneezed then Jane sneezed then Emma, Marcus, Kenny, and Rio was vaguely reminded of sitting in front of the TV and watching A Christmas Carol as a kid himself, seeing the ghost of Christmas past, present, future in symptoms across the five of them while he and Elizabeth both wrangled tissue boxes and kiddie aspirin, cough syrup and glassy eyed tears over Frozen, Frozen 2, Wreck It Ralph, Frozen, Moana, Frozen, Zooptopia, Moana, Frozen.

(He might have thrown the bluray of that fuckin’ movie out before Annie came over with extra supplies and cooingly installed Disney+ on their TV, and shit, he’s had a lot of reasons to kill her before, but they all pale in comparison).

And okay, maybe it was a thing, because they were still pretty new to all of this and Rio didn’t need to be as good at math as he was to know that handlin’ five sick kids was gonna be worse than one, but still. He doesn’t think he’ll ever feel as close to burnin’ a house down as he did tryna handle three sobbing, snuffling kids at once, and they’d gotten well and the handover had happened and he’d maybe never been happier to give a mostly-better Marcus back to Laura and see the rest of them (also mostly-better) off to Elizabeth’s dumbass ex, and piling into bed after.

Him and Elizabeth hadn’t even fucked, they’d just collapsed back onto the mattress and looked at each other.

“If you get sick, I’m leaving you.”

He can’t remember which one of them said it.

 *

 It goes something like this:

Elizabeth sneezes.

Elizabeth sneezes and Rio throws a tissue box at her bedridden form as he works on his laptop in the reading chair in the corner, his own legs propped up on the ottoman he’s dragged up from the living room, as he works on the specs for the associate’s Cleveland pitch.

“Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired, you know that?” she asks him, nose so blocked at this point her voice comes out somehow both hoarse and reedy, and Rio glances up at her over the top of his laptop, biting back a grin.

Thing is, she really does look like hell. The bags beneath her eyes are so purple they almost look like bruises, her skin so pale it’s almost translucent. He’d managed to get her into her favourite, ugliest pyjamas when he’d hauled her back into the house, and she looks comfy, between them and the approximately 800 blankets she’d demanded he pull out to cover her.

She’d sweat the fever out pretty quick, and he’d made awkward but proficient work of takin’ care of her – wiping her brow, feedin’ her flu medicine, and making thin, tasteless soup he somehow hadn’t managed to completely fuck up (then again, the only ingredients had been stock, salt and slivered vegetables) – and hours had gone by and she’d slept and glowered and offered frail excuses, and now - -

Well.

“Ain’t what you said last night,” he hums, clicking through the spreadsheet, and he feels more than sees Elizabeth’s eyeroll in reply.

“I said bedside manner, not - - in-bed manner,” she sniffs, before pulling out a tissue and blowing her nose, and Rio glances up at her red cheeks and wet eyelashes and grins.

“Figured what we did counted more as bed-side.”

And maybe it was semantics, but whatever. It was fun in the moment of it, rememberin’ both their toes curled in this carpet, her body bent like an L atop their sheets, ass up towards him, and - -

“Bed-over,” Elizabeth corrects, and it surprises him enough that Rio barks on a laugh, glancing up at her again, grinning when he spots the subdued but still-a-little-playful look in her eye.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that, huh?”

The look on her face is as close to affectionate as she ever gets, and he shifts a little in his seat, feels himself warm beneath it, as she flops back into their pillows, still snuffling. He can pretty much smell the sweat on them at this point, and he wonders vaguely if he can change the sheets before he slips in tonight, because shit, they are damp, and he’s spent enough time hovering over the kids’ feverishly moist beds over the last week to like the idea of somethin’ a little crisper, when Elizabeth suddenly says:

“You stayed though. So that’s - - you know. That’s some sort of bedside manner.”

His gaze darts up, takes in her pink, mottled cheeks, her crooked nose, her dimpled chin, and her voice was high. Light and airy in that way she ain’t, and there’s a knot between his shoulders when he shrugs.

“Well, we got a mortgage now,” he drawls, eyes skirting back down to the spreadsheet on his laptop screen but not taking any of the figures in.

“A big one,” Elizabeth agrees, like they don’t both know they’ve paid it outright, and Rio hums, willing her complicity in the moment of it, because fuck, if that ain’t just - -

Easier.

And he can’t really think about what that means, not really, but maybe he doesn’t have to, because suddenly Elizabeth says:

“I bet you’re terrible when you’re sick.”

Rio jerks his head up, eyebrows raised, and Elizabeth snuffles, closing her eyes briefly, shuffling back into their pillows. The air around her is thick, her body tired, slumped, but glowing with the sheen of her fevered sweat. He wets his lips, works his jaw, meets her eye.

“You’re probably like the - - the poster child for man flu,” she adds, which is a little rich comin’ from the woman who passed out halfway through a meeting. Rio arches an eyebrow back at her, and somewhere in the pocket of his jeans, his cell buzzes. Somewhere outside of here, he can hear afternoon traffic and a neighbour yell. He can hear a lot of things, but he can’t see anything that ain’t Elizabeth, awkward and beautiful and a straight up fuckin’ mess, sprawled out in their bed.

“You talk to every man who takes care of you that way, or just me, huh?”

And her head jerks at that, neck forcing at an odd angle, shoulder shoving up to suffocate the pillow against the bedhead.

“All of them,” she decides after a moment, and Rio snorts on a laugh, closing his laptop and putting it aside. The knot between his shoulders is settling, and he ain’t exactly taking in the specs anyway (he thinks the deal’s a no-go, but he figured lookin’ it over was the least he could do for the kid, given one of his potential bosses rolled out of her fuckin’ body halfway through his pitch), so he starts towards the bed, planning on folding in directly beside her, when Elizabeth shakes her head, pushing him gently away.

“No,” she says. “I’m not - - I - - ”

She’s fumbling for the words, and Rio looks at her, taking her in all over again, seeing the uncertainty not the set of her, and so he ignores her, returning her gentle shove with one of his own and lying down in their bed, and he can’t explain it. The feeling in his chest when she casts wide eyes at him.

“What?” he grunts, and she opens her mouth once, twice, says:

“I - - Dean - - ”

Her mouth clamps shut.

She stares at him, and Rio stares back, watching her mandible clench, her lips twitch, her bambi eyes blink. After a moment, she shakes her head, wriggles down in the bed.

“You’ll only have yourself to blame if you get sick.”

Rio snorts.

“Darlin’, we both know I probably already got it.”

She rolls her eyes then, but keeps wriggling down until they’re eye level again, and Rio leans over, just enough to hook a finger beneath her chin, flick it up over the dimple there, and he watches as her tired eyes glaze over or - - maybe not. Maybe they’re just overtaken somehow. By somethin’ that just makes her look at him in a way he still ain’t used to. Naked almost, open and tired and warm.

“Probably,” she agrees quietly, and she turns into him. Rio’s fingers lift from her chin to brush over her wet lips.

“’Sides,” he tells her. “Where else would I wanna sleep?”

Like they don’t have at least five other bedrooms in this house.

Like there ain’t the promise of something warmer, cleaner, fresher, safer somewhere in this house, but he don’t want it.

This is his bed.

She’s his - -

“Fine,” she says, pointedly closing her eyes, and Rio does the same, and maybe he pretends he doesn’t notice the way she shuffles – ever so slightly – closer before they both fall asleep.

 *

 It goes something like this:

Rio sneezes.

Rio sneezes and Elizabeth fuckin’ laughs.

[mhdiaries]

13 Wishes Howleen Wolf Diary

On the 18th of July

Mom barked me out of bed this morning saying that I needed to get out of her fur for a few hours. It was that or help her with housework, and since yesterday I spent all day sweeping the attic.... sooo much dust!... I was out of the doggie-door before she could say boo. It’s hard not to feel screeching jealous of Clawd and Clawdeen, cause they always seem to be busy during the summer while I’m stuck at home playing cobweb cleanup. It’s tough being the little sister of two of the most popular monsters on campus - Clawdeen has her pack of friends, and Clawd has his bluddies and Draculaura, too. Meanwhile I texted my beast friend, Twyla, to see if she wanted to come lurk in the park with me today, but she can be pretty nocturnal. Not that I mind moonlighting with her, but sometimes a ghoul wants to get out in the sun, yanno? I took my soccer ball and got some solo practice in, but it’s just not as clawsome by yourself... it made me feel kind of lame, actually. I did see Venus sitting by the trees at on end of the park, but it seemed like she was having a really intense conversation with the oaks and I didn’t want to interrupt. I like Venus, but you have to watch out for her when she’s on the environmental warpath, or she’ll totally talk your ear off. Anyway, after a little while I got distracted listening... okay, eavesdropping... on her (who knew trees had so much drama?) and kicked the ball onto the casketball court where some older monsters were playing. They got fangry, and I wound up packing up and going home with my tail between my legs. Now I wish I’d ignored them and kept playing, cause now I’m bored again. Sooo. Boooored. I’d even listen to Venus lecture me about the dangers of styrofoam... at least it would be something to do!

On the 23rd of July

It’s hard not to feel funky when everyone besides me has things figured out for themselves. Clawdeen has fashion and Clawd has sports, and they both seem to just know what they want. Mom and Dad say I shouldn’t compare myself to them, or anyone else, but that’s such parent advice that I don’t feel like it should count. Besides, it’s not like I don’t know what I want to do... well, okay, it IS that, but it’s also that I want to do everything?? Like, once I spent two weeks trying to make a viral video for FrightTube. Then the week after that I decided that it was totally my destiny to be a superstar singer. Then three weeks later I was totally focused on my future as a Howlympian athlete! And I haven’t stopped wanting to do any of that stuff, but it’s too hard to do it all, and impossible to pick only one, especially cause I don’t know what I’m really good at yet. I feel like I’m getting to a point where I choose or I lose. I mean, what if I discover my hidden talents too late to do anything with them? It’d be so, so tragic. That’s why I’ve been trying so much different stuff this year - music lessons, dance class, everything I can get my claws on. Something will click sooner or later, right?

On the 29th of July

Today I heard... okay maybe eavesdropped on... Draculaura telling Clawd about a big open mic poetry scream going on at the Coffin Bean at the end of the summer. I went on their web site page to check it out, and now I think I might want to try it out, too? I mean I’ve written some poetry, and I’m always accidentally rhyming all the time. And my hip-hop dance classes have totally infused me with the muse... see what I mean? Yeah... I think I want to do this! But I gotta text Twyla and see if she’ll come out for moral support. It’s at night, and the Coffin Bean is usually pretty dark, so she’ll have no excuse not to come - besides, she loves their cupquakes.

On the 30th of July

I finally talked Twyla into going to the Maul with me. If you let her she’d probably stay in the shadows all summer, but lucky for her I won’t let lurking boogiemen lie! We went to the fur salon, and I picked out some new colors for my ‘do - I’ve been letting it go natural lately, but that doesn’t stop me from switching up my style all the time. I wound up buying like five different colors because I couldn’t decide on just one. After that we split a big booberry smoothie at the food corpse and we talked for a long while. Well... mostly I talked, Twy listened, because she’s a clawsome listener. She let me howl about how was I supposed to pick what I wanted to do with the rest of my life if I couldn’t even pick a hair color? I asked her what she thought I should do, and she got this really freaky intense look, like she was thinking hard, and then she flicked my ear and said, “I think what you really want to do is plan out your whole life before you live it, and you can’t do that, so stop stressing out.” Which is both good advice and totally useless because you can’t stop stressing out just because you want to, like, when has that ever worked in all monster history? But I do feel better, somehow. I think it helped to just talk about it to someone who gets me and doesn’t laugh when I say dumb stuff. She also agreed to come cheer me on at the poetry scream. There’s a reason Twyla is my beastie. =)

On the 10th of August

Clawd and Clawdeen actually weren’t busy today for once. Even though they’re a pain in the fang, hanging with them can still be scary-fun. Sometimes. Clawd talked us into playing a pick-up soccer game in the backyard, and Clawdeen didn’t even get growly when she fell into one of the holes Clawd made along the fence... he likes to bury things in the dirt and dig them up later. I think it’s a boy thing. We’ve all got game, and later we did get into an argument about who had the most points - we’d said we weren’t keeping score, but no duh, of course we all were! But no one got their fur in a frizz about it for a change. After a while we were making up the biggest number we could think of and howling with laughter. Dad said later he almost didn’t want to call us inside for dinner because he loves seeing us act like one big happy pack. I think he misses when all my even bigger brothers and sisters were still at home... Mom teases that he’s got empty den syndrome. I miss my older brothers and sisters sometimes, too, but they aren’t that far away. (Plus, not that they’ve moved out, the wait for the bathroom is a LOT shorter.)

On the 13th of August

I think I’m getting cold paws. The poetry scream is in just a few days, and my brain has been going all over the place since I said I’d go. What if I get stage fright? What if I totally blank and forget the whole poem? What if I’m not even that good? ...Ugh, okay, I texted Twyla, and she convinced me not to give up the ghost. Plus she pointed out that since it’s open mic, I can always just show up and decided if I want to go ahead with it when I get there. Sometimes I wish I could borrow Clawdeen’s confidence, not just her clothes... she never seems scared of anything.

On the 18th of August

Whoa, I’m still shaking. The Coffin Bean was WAY more packed than I thought it would be. There had to be dozens of monsters there, and I was a total casket case even with my beastie at my side until I ran into Clawd and Draculaura. I sort of hadn’t told them I’d be there, so they were scary surprised to see me. And then they found out I was sort of thinking about maybe performing, they wouldn’t let me get away with not doing it. So I signed up and waited for my turn, even though I was so howling nervous I could barely hear the poets on before me, and then it was my turn. I was so wound up that my eyes were practically crossing with fright, but I saw my bro and Draculaura waving from the audience, and Twy giving me the claws-up, I sucked it up and read my poem. I had it memorized and gave it everything I had, and the monsters in the crowd really seemed to dig it. I didn’t like completely bring the house down, but when even the zombies slow-clapped at the end and Clawd whooped for me it felt just little bit epic. Then Draculaura when on with this mega-romantic and sweet poem and she had the whole audience wailing like banshees. Even I got a little teary-eyed, and Clawd was whimpering into his coffinchino... he made me promise not to tell anyone lol. Of course she won first place for the night - not that I’m moaning. She totally deserved it, and I came i third, which made me feel pretty clawsome about the whole thing. Even Clawd was patting me on the back and bragging that I was his little sis to anyone who’d listen... which was embarrassing, but whatever, kind of nice too. =) I gave Twyla the biggest hug for staying with me, too, especially since crowds are one of her fangups. I have to say, I really liked tackling my fears... it makes me think maybe I’m ready for a whole new me next year! Watch out, Monster High!

[whorphydice]

I would kinda die for a fic about your modern hc about orpheus’s graduation

This was SO fun to write, your wish is my command. Special recognition to @hollywoodx4 who is literally the coparent to this entire giant modern au we have. She’s wonderful and so special to me. 

This whole world is, and I'm so excited to share a piece with you!

Please enjoy sweating, uncomfortable Eurydice.

The warm spring air may as well have been a blistering, 100 degree summer day to Eurydice. There was no difference now. The heat made her feel like her skin was melting off, hair frizzing around her face. It didn’t help that she had to dress up- she was so happy in Orpheus’ t shirts that still fell to her thighs despite her protruding abdomen. Persephone insisted however, and she knew she was right, that she dress up for the occasion. Besides, she knew Orpheus would enjoy seeing her in the more dressy outfit. And that's how she ended up in a pale pink sundress, that was so tight around her chest she felt she was spilling out, and emphasised her midsection so thoroughly there was no question- she was very pregnant. She managed to get away with wearing light, slip on sandals- which was a blessing, considering none of her other shoes fit over her swollen feet. For all the poetic ways Orpheus described her day in and day out, the only way she would describe herself was a cow. 

She was fanning herself with a folded program, thinking about how she couldn’t wait to get out of this heat when Persephone’s voice snapped her out of her reverie.

“You alright there, Chickadee?” The woman asked, her own curled hair pinned off of her neck in this warm weather. “Don’t go passing out on us, I have some water if you want it.”

“How in the hell did you do this? And Junie was born in June! You had to be miserable.” Eurydice groaned, running her hand over her forehead to catch some of the sweat. 

“I had a pool and a husband who wouldn’t let me leave the air conditioning. I know Orpheus tried to get you to stay home too-”

“He did and I told him I wouldn’t miss this for the entire world. I’d have to be in labor to miss this, and i’m not having this baby for at least 3 more months. I can handle this for him.” She ran a hand over her stomach fondly, “we can take a couple of hours in the heat, can’t we baby-”

“Oh is baby talkin’ Aunt ‘Rydice? Can I talk to baby?” Persephone’s daughter piped up from her place on her father’s lap, before crawling over Persephone and onto Eurydice’s lap. “Hi baby.” Juniper cooed, leaning her face as close as she could to Eurydice’s stomach, the layers of tulle on the toddler’s dress only adding to the heat on Eurydice’s thighs. 

“Sure Junie B, you know they like to hear you.” It was true- the little ball of energy that was their ‘niece,’ with her curly corkscrew hair and endless joy- tended to make Eurydice’s heart yearn for her own baby to be in her arms. Mostly because it was so sweet to watch Junie murmur sweet words to her baby, but also because those words caused said baby to move endlessly within her. 

“She is gon’ be my best friend. Thanks for makin me a best friend. I cant wait to see her, ‘Rydice” Junie murmured, tiny hands moving over her belly in some unrecognizable pattern at the same time Persephone reached over to smooth the bow in her hair. 

“She insists that baby of yours is a girl, and I have half a heart to believe her. My mama said the same thing with her, and even knew what I was gonna call her before I did.” Seph admitted, holding her hands out. “JuneBug come here, your gonna give your auntie a heat stroke in that dress of yours.” 

Junie shook her head, wrapping her little arms around Eurydice’s middle fiercely. “No mama-”

“She’s fine, trust me, she makes this more bearable.” Eurydice promised, running her fingers through Junie’s cafe colored hair. “Besides, she’s just talking to her future best friend.”

She was distracted by music overhead signalling the beginning of the ceremony. 

The ceremony itself droned on. Speakers of all ages, her inability to locate Orpheus in the crowd, the spring heat boiling around her. She was midway through reading a picture book to Junie when she heard them get closer to Orpheus’ name. 

Junie climbed onto Persephone’s lap, jumping excitedly on her mother’s thighs. “Ophie!! Yay Ophie!!” She clapped her little hands, the three year old doing her best to get his attention with no avail. 

Eurydice looked up just in time to see him walk up the stairs to the stage, right in time for his name to be announced over the speaker. She felt her heart speed in her chest. She wasn’t sure where to place this feeling- pure pride mixed with pure unadulterated love. Before she realized what was happening there were tears in her eyes. She didn’t even know she was crying until hot tears dropped onto her hand in her lap. Eurydice wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing whatever makeup hadn’t melted off her face. 

She would remember to thank Hermes after, for snapping endless pictures of Orpheus, on this big stage accepting a B.A. degree. Yet in the moment all she could focus on was that smile of pride- pride in himself- that Orpheus wore on his face. He worked hard. She saw first hand the extra shifts he took on to save up for their baby, the late nights he spent singing to their baby, the songs he wrote and rewrote to perform for a grade. The early mornings where he made her breakfast before class, the afternoons he spent by her side as she experienced morning sickness into evenings. The mantra he repeated day after day: It’s for us. It’s for our life together. 

Orpheus. Who was a nameless baby left to Hermes by his sister. Who was raised by three young adults who hadn’t learned to care for themselves, let alone an infant. Orpheus, who wears his heart on his sleeve. Orpheus, who fell in love with a girl at first sight across a coffee shop. Orpheus. Who was endlessly optimistic. Orpheus, who proposed to a girl after knowing her officially a month. Orpheus, who every day reminded her how worthy she was. Orpheus, who’s entire world revolved around a baby he hadn’t even met yet.

Eurydice was still crying when the ceremony ended, wiping fruitlessly at her eyes when Orpheus found them, that brilliant smile etched on his face.

“Hey guys!” He was as excited as a little puppy, scooping his niece up and tossing her in the air. Junie’s bell like laugher rang out as he kissed her cheek, before handing her back to Persephone. “Thanks for being here-” He kissed persephone on the cheek, before hugging both Hermes and Hades both. 

“Think we’d miss this?” Hermes remarked, giving him a firm pat on the back as he hugged him. “Waited a long time for this, boy.”

“Cold day in hell that would be, us not being here.” Hades gave his nephew a firm handshake, before pulling him into another one armed hug. 

“We successfully raised a college graduate. And we weren’t even out of college when we got you.” Persephone pulled him down so she could kiss his forehead, hugging him tightly around her daughter. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo.”

“Thank you- all of you. Can’t believe it, really.” Orpheus smiled sheepishly, setting his diploma case down before turning to his almost wife. 

He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up effortlessly, so he could kiss her before spinning her around. “‘Rydice? You okay?”

“I just love you so much.” She whispered, her hands cradling either side of his face. “I’ve never felt so proud of someone in my life.” Eurydice ran her thumb over his cheekbone, leaning in and kissing him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and for a moment they were not in the blistering summer heat surrounded by his fellow students. For a few seconds it was just them. Them against the world. 

When he sat her down and they pulled away for much needed air, he kept his forehead pressed to hers, arms still tightly around her middle. They smiled at each other, tears still running down Eurydice’s face. 

Orpheus couldn’t stop smiling as he sunk to his knees in front of her, nevermind the inevitable grass stains on his knees. His hands wrapped around her middle, as he rested his forehead against her stomach in the most reverent way Eurydice had ever seen. Her breath caught in her throat as he pressed his lips to her belly, a gentle smile on his face. 

“Hey baby.. We did it.” He whispered, running a hand down her side. He looked up and met her eyes with his own- now filled with tears too- as his palm was met with a solid kick. 

“She’s proud of you too.” Eurydice promised, running her hand through his hair. The pronoun slipped out, as a result of Junie’s rambling. He didn’t question it, not now.

Orpheus rose to his feet, wrapping one arm around his shoulder as he kissed her temple. “In six month it’s gonna be your turn. And she’ll be so proud of you.”

“Come on, you two, we made dinner.” Persephone waved, though Orpheus caught her wiping some of her own tears away.

“I made dinner, she picked the plates.” Hades teased, taking Junie on his hip and wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist. “Noone is getting ramen for dinner tonight.”

“Children, please.” Hermes teased his sister and her husband, shaking his finger. “None of this foreplay at the ceremony.”

Eurydice giggled, wrapping her arm around Orpheus’ midsection. “Come on. Lets go home?”

Orpheus merely nodded, as they began walking. “You look beautiful ‘Ridyce.” He started, but turned back to see Hermes with his camera. “You comin?”

“Go ahead. I’ll be right there.”

They would later see all the pictures Hermes captured. Eurydice holding their niece. Orpheus smiling out to the crowd. Orpheus with his arm around her, kissing her temple as they walked home into their future. 

One photo though, of Orpheus on his knees, talking to their baby, tears running down Eurydice’s face as she looked at him nothing but love- that one would remain framed on their wall forever. It would be Orpheus’ favorite for six short months, until it is replaced with one of them with their daughter cradled between them at Eurydice’s graduation that December.

[urdbell18]

Those Moments In Between The Problem with Mary’s Hair

AN: So thanks to this virus I’m out of work for the next too weeks and I’m bored out of my mind. So I got this great idea about creating a mini series to my main fic A Seed Hidden in the Heart. This is the first story but f you guys have anything that you want me to write about just message me! I think this might be fun. 

Zelda loved a lot of things about Mary. She loved how Mary could anticipate her needs before she even needed them. She loved how Mary always had an ear to listen with and if anyone needed help she was willing to lend a hand. Most importantly Zelda loved how Mary was with her family, especially her daughter. Mary was the perfect parent, she was strict yet fair, fun but knew when to be serious, reliable without being overwhelming. Mary took to being a guardian to two extremes, a teen and a small child, almost effortlessly and it was just one of the reasons why Zelda loved her.

Mary had only one flaw however and that was her hair.

Now don’t get Zelda wrong, she loved Mary’s hair. Mary’s hair was soft and full of volume, perfect to tangle your fingers in. It’s just the problem is that ‘volume’ translates to ‘a lot’ and Mary had a LOT of hair. A sort of trail seemed to follow Mary wherever she went as several strands of hair would end up on things, mostly soft surfaces like the pillow cases and the back of the sofa. It wasn’t noticeable at first but over time the build up of loose hair started to become more obvious which triggered something inside Zelda. Zelda wouldn’t call herself a neat freak, she was just the type of person who liked things to be a certain way and that way just happened to be organized. So her reactions when she saw the large collection of hair on the pillow or on the headrest in her car were perfectly normal for her. She bought a large collection of lint rollers and that was that.

Or so she thought.

A month after Mary moved in Zelda noticed that her tub wasn’t draining as it normally would. It wasn’t something that she noticed at first until she came into the bathroom to brush her teeth and the tub would still be filled with water from her daughter’s bath. It gave her pause. She checked the plug and it was fully dislodged so it wasn’t that, so what could it be?

Zelda didn’t think about it again because everything seemed to go back to normal, her tub was draining like it should be until, yet again, it wasn’t. She noticed it first when she was taking her morning shower and found herself in ankle deep water. Curious, and luckily she didn’t break her neck getting out of the tub. The problem got steadily worse until she couldn’t stand it anymore and turned to the only person that she knew who could fix it, Ambrose. Ambrose was their resident handyman, he couldn’t fix big problems like when a tree fell and put a whole in their roof but for small problems he was great. He had an answer for her almost straight away when she came to him, his exact words were, “Again? I just cleared it two weeks ago.”

Two weeks ago? That was the first time that Zelda noticed the tub wasn’t draining properly. It was also, when she checked the calendar, the end of the month. That meant on the first Ambrose completed his monthly chore of maintenance on all of the household plumbing, including the tub in Zelda’s room. So the drain was clogging faster than normal and the only reason why that was that Zelda could think of was because of Mary.

All evidence pointed to Mary. Zelda never had this kind of problem before. Not when she shared the room, and thus the bathroom as well, with Hilda. There’s never been a problem with her and Vida. Mary was the only factor that added up. All that hair had to go somewhere and down her drain wasn’t one of them. So she bought a drain trap to catch it all and it was fine until… this

The drain trap needed to come out. It did its job and that was the underlying problem. A clump of hair and other things that Zelda didn’t even want to think about circled the trap. She was NOT going to touch it. She called out to Mary who came into the bathroom a bit confused.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need you to remove that.” Zelda pointed at the drain trap but didn’t look directly at it in fear of being sick. Mary looked over the edge of the tub and grimaced.

“And what exactly is that?”

“That my dear is a week worth of your hair trying to clog up my drains yet again.”

“Last time I checked I’m not the only one with hair. How do you know this is all my doing?”

“Because I never had to deal with this before until you.”

“What’s that’s supposed to mean!?” Zelda took a deep breath. This was escalating out of proportion.

“I don’t want to fight with you but we can’t have the drain clogging up every other week. Could you please just clear the drain.”

“Fine.”

A compromise was reached after that. Zelda would set the trap while Mary would clear it as well as picking up any stray hair that she could. And everything worked out just fine.

_____________________

Part 2

There were some advantages to living in Greendale. One of them that Mary cared about the most was the humidity or lack thereof. There was little to no humidity in Greendale and thus her hair wouldn’t get staticy or dry like it did whenever she was sent to camp in Arizona. That was hell on earth.

However, Greendale did come with one disadvantage and that was rain. It rained a LOT in Greendale. Their yearly rainfall rivaled that of Seattle and Forks and they were one of the rainiest towns on the east coast. All that rain led to one thing that Mary was starting to believe was even worse than the humidity. Frizz.

When spring hit Greendale there were two things that Mary could count on, her allergies and frizz. Both things were manageable. She had her allergy medication for outside, she didn’t really need it for inside anymore thanks to Zelda’s neat freak nature. Zelda says she’s not a neat freak but she totally is and Mary loves her for it. She still had some off days, mostly it would be her eyes would be too dried out for her to put in her contacts. The frizz however, she hadn’t quite mastered. She tried everything, and she means everything, to try and tame it with little to no results. After years of dealing with the same thing she just accepted it as something that happened and went with it, unless something happened.

Like getting a hairbrush stuck in her hair.

The thing about her hair was that it was always kind of hard to brush. Unless she used a smoothing conditioner her hair would become coarse and make the act of brushing it twice as hard. So meeting some resistance wasn’t that unheard. None of that didn’t matter when frizz was involved and so it wasn’t completely unheard of if her brush got stuck in her hair but this was completely different. Her brush wasn’t just stuck it was stuck. Any other time she could get her hairbrush out of her hair but, nope. Her tugging was only doing one thing and that was causing her pain. As loath as she might want to admit it she needed help. Luckily the first person she came across was Hilda.

“Hilda.” The plump blonde woman jumped a bit, she probably wasn’t expecting anyone to still be upstairs.

“Oh, good morning Mary. Thought you would be downstairs with the others.”

“I’ve had a bit of a set back that has kept me and I’m in need of your assistance.”

“What’s wrong?” Instead of trying to explain it Mary turned around so that Hilda could get a clear view of the blue backing of her hairbrush. “Oh my! How’d this happen?”

“Would you like me to blame genetics or the weather?” She heard Hilda chuckle behind her and a warm hand landed on her shoulder.

“Brace yourself love, this is going to hurt.” Mary took a deep breath and placed a hand on the railing. Without further hesitation Hilda started to yank. She was right, it hurt!

Nether noticed Vida coming up on the first landing nor her eyes wide in horror until…

“Mommy!”

At the same time downstairs:

Zelda closed her newspaper, only one article interested her today and now that her reading was done she folded the newspaper and placed it next to her empty plate. She checked her watch and her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Mary and her sister should be downstairs by now and yet when she did a head count they were missing. Ambrose was here eating a bowl while stretched out on the bench. Sabrina was putting some final touches on a school assignment. And Vida was next to her downing the last remainders of her milk. Mary’s absence didn’t go unnoticed by her either.

“Where’s Momma?”

“I don’t know, baby why don’t you go upstairs and check up on her.”

“Okay!” With that Vida jumped down from her seat and rounded the corner out of sight. Zelda checked her watch again and sighed. At this rate Mary wouldn’t be able to sit down for breakfast. This wasn’t the first time it has happened so Zelda got up and filled a travel mug with coffee and popped some toast in the toaster. Mary could eat in the car, something that she never allowed, but Mary needed to eat something and her threat of vacuuming her entire car if she saw even a single crumb was enough for Mary to keep things neat.

“Mommy!” Zelda’s blood ran cold and she rushed out of the kitchen to where her daughter's voice was coming from. Behind her she heard Ambrose and Sabrina scrambling to catch up with her.

“Vida what’s wrong!?”

“Aunt Hilda’s hurting Momma!” Zelda opened her mouth to say something else but froze. At the top of the stairs was her sister and her girlfriend. Something was poking out the back of Mary’s head and she had an ironclad grip on the banister. Vida looked at her with big eyes filled with unshed tears. Zelda could only imagine what all of this looked like to a four year old.

“What is going on here?”

“I was just trying to help with…” Hilda’s sentence trailed off and she waved a hand to the back of Mary’s head. Mary just gave a sheepish sort of smile and a light blush crept up on her cheeks.

“Hilda.” Zelda didn’t need to say anything else as she went up one side of the staircase. Hilda went down the other, ushering Sabrina, Ambrose, and Vida to the main floor. Vida looked up at her but Zelda just nodded and gave her a soft smile. She went with Hilda without a whimper. When Zelda reached Mary that blush seemed to have gotten darker and spread higher on Mary’s sharp cheekbones. “Let me see.” Mary turned to show Zelda the hairbrush that was half embedded in her hair. With gentle fingers Zelda observed the damage. “Come with me.” Zelda turned back to her bedroom, Mary followed her. She pointed to her vanity and, after a slight hesitation, Mary sat down. All Mary could see in the mirror was Zelda’s torso and the flexing of her shoulders as her arms moved. Next thing Mary knew the brush that was causing a tugging pain in the back of her head was being held out to her with a smug look on Zelda’s face.

“Frizz?” Mary gave her a side nod and took back the brush. There was a huge clump of hair in the bristles. Mary hates to think about the damage to her hair. “All you had to do was say something.” Mary turned to look at Zelda surprised.

“Really?”

“It’s not as bad as it was when I lived in London but I’d get the occasional flare up now and again. We just need to find the right combination for you but for now...” Zelda went into the bathroom then came out with a tube in her hand. “Try this.” She squeezed some cream into her hand and then ran her fingers through Mary’s hair. It felt good, really good, and Mary gave off a low moan, it almost sounded like a purr. “That’s better wouldn’t you say?” Mary brought a hand to her hair, it felt almost back to normal, it was still a little rough but a whole lot better than it was before.

“Thank you.” Mary got up and gave Zelda a quick peck on her lips. Zelda hummed and kissed Mary back.

“There’s toast and coffee waiting for you downstairs, We need to get going.” Mary looked at the alarm clock and cursed under her breath. She quickly grabbed her shoes and scrambled to keep up with Zelda. Hilda was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs, she handed Mary a travel mug and her toast. She and Vida sent them off with a hug and a wave goodbye as she, Zelda and Sabrina went off for another exciting day of Baxter high.

After that Zelda found the perfect combination to contain her frizz. Some cream, a little hairspray and she was good as golden. No more dryness. No more stuck hair brushes or cries for help. 

Thank god.

[dancing-with-dichotomies]

my OCs never come out right but eh...

((And a bit I just wrote for her chapter...))

She almost began to resign herself to her fate, almost began to prepare for the worst, in her own mind... But then just ahead and off to the side, one of the doors to some random men's living quarters were left open. That wasn't uncommon, and Teresa was no more inclined to peek inside than she had been passing any other stranger's room, except for one thing... There was barking coming from that room. Shrill, piteous barking, verging on yelps at times. It made the hairs on the back of Teresa's neck frizz up and her heart sink down low to hear it, especially when they finally got to the door and she realized that the sound was coming from a tiny little dog, it looked to still be a puppy to Teresa, who was used to seeing mostly big dogs. People in her town mostly only kept a big dog for protection.

But this was a small breed of dog actually, a pet lapdog that had been stolen from his former master, a lady of wealth who unfortunately had not just lost the dog, but everything else, including her life, in a raid on her home. In the weeks since then the dog had been in his own personal hell, scared of everyone around him, not wanting to obey and having his captors steadily losing patience with him for it. Now they had reduced themselves to finding fun in 'teasing' him, they called it, by 'lightly' smacking him in the face to try and get the dog to snarl and try to bite back at them while another held him by the scruff of his neck so he couldn't get away. The dog was obviously trying to comply, snarling back weakly, but also it was exhausted, it had already had more than enough of the abuse for it's size, and it's 'snarls' were more like pleas, Teresa could almost swear she knew exactly what the poor creature was thinking even, 'JUST STOP! I HATE YOU! LEAVE ME ALONE!'

She just couldn't stand it. On the spot seeing it, without even thinking about the consequences or if she could even pull it off, she wrenched away from Fawson. He hadn't expected the girl to try anything, but certainly not to make a 'break' just to barge into some man's room, and so half in surprise and half in curiosity, he watched without immediately stopping her as she marched up to the new hire, right up to where he and his bunkmate where sitting on the bottom of a bunk bed cot, and grabbed the dog right out of their hands so quickly that neither men could believe there was even a woman in their rooms at first, let alone that she was doing what she had just done. And before they had time to register that she really had done it, and get the chance to be indignant about it, Teresa began to scold and berate them harshly, so angry she was on the verge of tears, "GIVE ME THAT POOR THING RIGHT -NOW-! HOW -DARE- YOU? HE'S SMALLER THAN A BABY!! WOULD YOU HIT A -BABY-!?"

She pulled the dog close to her bosom, it just felt so right to hold the poor little baby dog there, felt so natural to her to comfort the poor thing even though she herself was in such peril. And in turn, the dog, for the first time not just for the first time since his capture but the first time in his short little life so far... He really felt home with her. His previous master had seen him as a toy, a thing to collect. She would never have risked her life to hold him in her arms and protect him from harm like this girl just had, and then yell at his attackers too? His last master had been a big bosom lady too, but now Teresa's was the only bosom that little brown pup ever wanted to be cuddled by...

"H-Hey!" The man she'd snatched it from had the gall to get indignant about it, and even tried to put his hand in close to try and snatch the dog back. But as soon as he got close, the dog, who before had been sometimes snapping back but mostly cowering from the slaps, suddenly snarled at the man and viciously tore into the first finger that dared to come within range. Those teeth, little though they were, truly sank in this time, and then he threw his head about, tearing as much skin as possible, and causing the man to howl in pain and jump a whole two steps back to get away from the suddenly savage little demon dog.

The dog yapped several times before Teresa managed to calm it with a few gentle pats to the head, and then hugged it back under her neck, the dog nuzzling on her shoulder and shivering a little.

But the man with a now-bleeding finger didn't seem ready to give up yet, in fact a terrifying anger crossed over his eyes, and he took a step forward despite the dog's bared teeth, almost snarling like a dog himself, "Bitch who the HELL do you--?!"

Teresa thought for sure she was about to get slapped for her impudence. She hugged the dog tighter to herself though, determined that no matter how much he hit her, she wouldn't let him have the dog back...

But to the shock of everyone present, it was Fawson himself who stepped forward and caught the hand of the man who was about to strike her, glaring down at him intensely, with not outright hatred, but just pure disgust in his eyes. "You... I've forgotten your name. And THAT means you're insignificant enough aboard this ship to have been forgotten. NO DOUBT, it's because you've been shutting yourself away to waste time pissing off a MUTT. You also no doubt forgot what you were told when you were first hired -- YOU BREAK IT, YOU BUY IT. If you haven't worked up enough money to pay for what you've broken, it's considered stealing. Stealing from Greed is the ONE form of theft that is NEVER acceptable on this ship, and I already know you haven't worked NEARLY enough to afford breaking a girl that Greed actually took some interest in..."

The evil puppy-slapping bastard actually had the nerve to protest that, "I--I have been working! And I was just about to get back to it, but I want that dog back, I stole it fair and square in the raid on Riverton!"

Fawson didn't show him an ounce of sympathy, in fact his patience was clearly growing thin. "Are you not just lazy, but stupid as well? The other rule you should have remembered is that if someone manages to steal something from you-- You do WHAT, gentlemen?" He inquired to the two men directly behind behind Puppy-Abuser, dragging them into it to shame both the first man and get the others to realize they'd be in trouble soon too if it kept up.

A little wiser, they quickly sat up and mumbled under their breaths, answering Fawson but not very loud at first, "Y'don't be a bitch'bout it..."

Fawson suddenly barked like a savage dog himself, "LOUDER, GENTLEMEN! AM I SUPPOSED TO HEAR THAT AT MY AGE? WHAT DO YOU DO IF SOMEONE ELSE STEALS FROM YOU ABOARD THIS SHIP?"

Now all three men answered loud and clear, since they knew it would just be more trouble if they didn't, "YOU STEAL IT BACK ON YOUR OWN TIME OR ELSE YOU DON'T BE A BITCH ABOUT IT!"

Fawson still looked down on them with disgust, but it seemed to have lessened with their obedience. "CORRECT! Astounding! It seems THESE beasts can be trained after all..."

Teresa was just starting to feel the slightest sliver of relief, of hope, that maybe someone was looking out for her, at least just a little... But then Fawson quickly turned on HER, glaring down at her, standing up stiff to his full height to loom over her. "Bold move there, Ms. Barclay... But you'd do well to remember a short list of things here and now -- First of all? It means NOTHING that you've -briefly- attracted Greed's attention. Your temporary little ruse is amusing but it will not work for long. You are Earnest's new toy, but he always gets bored of new toys fast, so don't think you're special. And once you're not special anymore, you'll be back down here where you belong, and the same rules that apply to everyone else will apply to you... You either protect your own shit, or it WILL be TAKEN from you..."

His wrinkled gaze flickered down to the pup, but also briefly over her breasts before returning to glare into her eyes. She got the implication very well, as did the men behind her...

Fawson then sniffed derisively, and stepped out of the room again with no more than a simple, "Come." to Teresa, as if she herself was just a lost puppy following him around...

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

(( Poor girl is NOT having a good day here... XD;; ))

[im-robins-bitch]

Yours | sugardaddy!ash 

warnings: implied smut, almost smut, this is sugar daddy ash so 18+ pls

words: 3.6k

this is my first time writing anything like this so feedback is appreciated

Ashton had a soft grip on your butt, holding you in place against his chest. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead as you wove your fingers through his light chest hair. “Do you want me to get you anything after work doll?” Ashton hummed, making his chest rumble and you nuzzle your head against his shoulder releasing soon you were going to have to shake out of your post-sex haze. 

“Mmm...i can’t think of anything” You sighed, watching the way his chest rose and fell with his every breath. The sun was peeking through the curtains, casting a little light into his shadowed bedroom. 

“That’s unusual?” Ashton chuckled, “sure you don’t have a fever?” He said, pressing his hand against your forehead. 

“Ashton!” You giggled, batting his hand away, “I just haven't seen anything I want is all…” You thought back, trying to even think of the last time you went into town for anything but food, to conjure up the memories of the lively store windows lining the streets of LA. 

“How about I surprise you then,” He suggested. You didn’t reply, starting to pull yourself out of his silk sheets and warm embrace. 

“I should get going, I’m meeting some of my friends.” You shuffled out of bed, your toes digging into a familiar plush rug. You slowly made your way around his room collecting your clothes ignoring Ashton’s obvious staring as you bent down to pick each item up, wiggling your bum at him as you pulled your panties back up your legs, rolling your eyes at the small rip down one of the sides. 

“Are you sure you can’t stay just a bit longer?” Ashton whined, he had pulled himself into the sitting position but he still refused to leave the comfort that his large bed provided. 

“You have to get the studio” You reminded running your hands through your hair, trying to calm down the ball of frizz your hair had turned into. You turned to Ashton again, a smile dancing on your lips when you saw the sad pout on his face and his dramatic glare at the alarm clock.

“Bye daddy” You sang, grabbing your phone from the nightstand pressing a kiss to his lips. 

He shook his head, trying to suppress a smile “stop calling me that,”

“That isn’t what you were saying a few minutes ago” You grinned, giving him one more lingering kiss to the cheek. 

You wished you had stayed a little longer with Ashton.

 ou hadn’t been surprised when your friends turned up late, they usually did, but while Jay was spitting apologize and offers to buy you your drink, Corrina showed up as cheerful as ever in her signature cat eye sunglasses and red fur coat laughing at your annoyance “Babe, you should know we’re gonna be late by now, just come later or don’t complain” She was joking, mostly, but you couldn’t help but suck on your teeth. 

“I was going to, but I remembered the one time I came late and you didn’t and I had to spend the whole time making it up to you while you gave me the silent treatment” You grumped, crossing your arms and sinking further back into your seat. She only rolled her eyes, shaking her hand at you. 

“Because you’re never late, always such a good girl.” She teased making your cheeks turn crimson. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to last night, chills going up your spine as you recalled Ashton in your ear calling you the exact same thing over and over like a prayer. 

“How are the holiday's plans going?” You asked Jay trying to get the memory out of your head.

“Amazing, so we have 3 different countries planned, but we’re hoping to have more. Imagine, me, backpacking across the globe, Rob is so amazing did you know he’s done this two times already!” Jay rambled his head resting on Corrina’s shoulder as he dreamily stared at the muffins.

“He probably with his last two boyfriends.” Corinna laughed, “If you come back with dreads I won't forgive you.” Her laughter died as she hit the front of the counter, giving the barista a bright smile as she listed off all three of your orders. You bit back a smile, knowing this was her way of making up for being late although if you pointed it out she would deny it. 

“How about you?” Jay asked, “Have you managed to scrape together any holiday plans?” 

“Oh, yeah i sorta, figured something out.” You mumbled, chipping away at the nail varnish on your thumb. “I’m going to seoul…” 

“What?” Corinna said, spinning around to face you again, lowering her glasses down her nose. “Last week you said you couldn’t even afford a day trip to florida?”

“Corrina!” Jay scolded

“Who are you even going with?” She questioned, “cause no offence but aren't me and jay your only friends.”

“None taken.” you muttered, “I’m going with Ash, he offered and since it’s my dre-”

“You’re still doing that??” Corrina exclaimed, almost knocking out the barrister when he called her name. “I thought that was a joke? Is that actually how you got the money to go to italy with us?” 

You looked away from her, deciding to look for a free table instead. 

“Wasn’t that two years ago?” Jay asked. You shook your head, surely it hadn’t already been two years since you and Ashon began you started counting the months on your fingers, eyes growing wide when you realised it was true. “Wish my boyfriend would buy me things..” Jay sulked. 

Corinna rolled her eyes “What’s the point in having a boyfriend if he doesn't buy you anything. That’s all boys are good for, and they aint even good for that, my girlfriend buys me things all the time, she even lets me borrow her clothes.” Corinna boasted a proud smile on her face as she played with the ring on her finger. “and she’s not old.” She grinned looking at you like the Cheshire cat “But i suppose some people have to settle for a boyfriend who’s older than the earth itself”

“he’s not my boyfriend and he’s not old.” You pouted, the three of you spotted a table and sunk into the booth, you sitting in the middle of the sofa on your own not feeling like dealing with Corinna’s malting fur today.

“Isn’t it kinda gross though,?” Corrina pondered her eyes lighting up with mischief. “And wrinkly?” She giggled, making Jay snort in response.  

“I just said he’s not old, and he’s actually-”

“Oh god, Jay she’s starting to get a taste for old men.” 

“For the last time he is not-”

“I know! how about we set you up on a date? what was it you said again- oh yeah someone who could snap you in half that was it right” Jay suggested, as corrina laughed at your description of your type. “I think I know a guy we could even set it up for tomorrow”

“Not happening,” You said chipping  at your nail polish again looking down at the table, a light blush on your face. “I just-”

“Come on, you said it yourself, he’s not your boyfriend, he’s probably hooking up with old ladies all the time, one date can’t hurt,” Corrina said, putting her hands together, giving you the best puppy dog eyes she could muster while Jay looked up at you with fluttering lashes and an oversized pout.

The idea of going on a date made your stomach twist in knots, you had always hated dates, nervous beyond repair with new people. You had no desire to be with anyone at the moment, you had Ashton you didn’t need a boyfriend. You opened your mouth about to refuse when you suddenly you pictured Ashton out on a date, a girl running her hands through his dark red hair, you had seen them, in magazines. Pictures of him in clubs surrounded by pretty girls sometimes they made you wonder. 

Suddenly you heard Corrina and Jay screaming in delight, talking about planning outfits and how much fun you were going to have and you released you had agreed to go on a date. You were about to tell them you changed your mind when Corinna looked at you with a bright smile “You know what this means, we get to go shopping!” She squealed. You bit down on your straw taking a long sip of ice tea. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. 

You got back home, expecting only to see Maurice curled up on the sofa napping away the day like he always did but instead, you were greeted by Ash, pulling you through your door by your hips, pressing a needy kiss to your lips. You put your hands on his chest pushing him away “what are you doing here? How did you even get in?” You asked, dropping your bag to the floor. 

“You left your door unlocked, you really shouldn’t do that doll.” He scolded, nipping at your neck. You bit your lip, you had been in such a rush to see him last night you had completely forgotten “And I remember telling you this morning that I would surprise you” 

You grinned, kissing him and grabbing at his shirt, pulling him further into the living room. “Well consider me surprised” You rubbed your nose against his jaw before going forward to kiss him again, but he only moved further away from you a smirk on his face. 

“ ‘fraid this isn’t the surprise Doll.” He smiled, grabbing your hands and tugging you through the living room and up the stairs towards the direction of your bedroom “Although I suppose it’s more of a present for Maurice” You raised your eyebrow giggling when he covered your eyes with his hand. 

“It better not be a new mattress, I know you hate mine, but i like the springs” You hummed, trying not to trip over the familiar bump in your bedroom carpet.

“No doll it’s not a new mattress,” Ashton’s other hand was still holding onto yours and he gave it a squeeze when he finally uncovered your eyes. 

Your eyes scanned around the room when you noticed in the corner of the room was a tall cat tower, shaped exactly like Sleeping Beauty's castle. Your eyes started to water as you rushed towards it, your fingers dancing across the roof. “Where did you get this? I’ve been dreaming of this my entire life” You gushed the familiar castle filling your heart with warmth and nostalgia.

Ashton grinned, crouching down with you throwing his arm over your shoulder squeezing you tight. “I had it made for you, I remembered you talking about it and so-” He was cut off when your body slammed into his, sending him crashing to the floor as you hugged him tightly, covering his face in kisses “thank you, thank you, thank you.” You chanted between kisses. He laughed, wrapping his arms around you. 

“Welcome baby” He hummed, he cupped his hands around your face staring deep into your eyes moving to kiss you when your cat jumped onto your head and then to his new castle making you headbutt Ashton. 

You both groaned, grabbing your heads in unison. “Are you ok?” Ashton asked. 

You nodded “are you?” 

Ashton smiled “I think you might need to kiss it better.” You laughed before planting a loud kiss against his forehead. “Still hurts a little I think I need one more.” You kissed him again more softly this time.

You sat up, resting against his large thighs. His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief.  He flexed his thigh making you squirm in shock when you got an idea. You wiggled against his lap, shifting when he sat up as well, wrapping your arms around his neck threading your fingers into his hair, tugging on it slightly. “Doll?” 

You hummed in response, rolling your hips against his thighs, tugging his hair a little harder this time. 

“Baby?” He said again, his hand grasping your cheek pulling you to look at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. 

“Yeah?” You replied, innocently batting your lashes. “Do you need anything?” 

“You know exactly what I need baby.” He growled, his grip on you tightening making your thighs clench. 

Your hands uncurled from his neck, trailing down his sides to rest at the waistband of his jeans. Your fingers trailed across the waistband, before landing on his belt. You looked up at Ashton asking for permission when he nodded and your hands grappled with his belt buckle sighing with relief when you finally pulled his belt off, throwing it across the room. 

You pulled down his zipper tugging his pants down his thighs. His hands snaked to your hips and he attached his lips to your neck, undoing your pants with ease, dragging them down your legs letting you kick them off. You let out a whimper when he bit down on your sweet spot. He grabbed your ass dragging you closer on his lap squeezing hard. 

“A-Ash.” stuttered, as his hand smacked against your ass thrusting you forward. 

“Such a good girl for me.” He mumbled against your skin. He dragged his hands up your side only to bring them back down to hook his fingers around the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them. “Did i rip these doll? Gotta get you something new.” 

Your eyes widened, pulling away from his touch. “I-I-I just remembered I need to go and do something.” You sputtered, pulling your panties back up your legs. You looked into his eyes, remembering the girls from the magazines all over him, picturing him running his hands up their bodies, kissing their lips.

“What? Go where?” He questioned watching you put on your jeans for the second time today. 

“Jay’s I was gonna stay at his today, we’re having a film night” You dashed out your bedroom when Ashton's hand wrapped around your wrist. 

“Y/N, are you ok? I haven't done something have I?”

“I’m fine, you’re fine, it’s all fine, I’m watching films ok.” You explained, your words coming out a mile a minute. You wiggled out of his grasp running down the stairs to the living room. 

“Baby!” Ashton yelled, sighing when you didn’t stop. “Baby!” He huffed, finally catching up to you at the front door while you were trying to your shoes back on. “Look, Y/N if you don’t want to do this anymore I understand, I know-”

“Do you not want to do this anymore Ash? Because it sounds like that's what you want me to say? I know you see other girls-” 

“Y/N what are you talking about-” 

You huffed, cutting him of not liking the direction of this conversation. You darted out the front door slammed the door, hoping Jay would be cool with your impromptu movie night trying to ignore the uneasiness crawling up your throat. 

Your date was going awful.

At first you were quite hopeful, he was the type of guy that used to send to your knees. Broad shoulders, big hands and a nice smile, but your wheelie bin had more personality than he did.  You assumed he must have been shy at first, but when he got the waiter's attention by snapping his fingers at them you knew this was going to be a long night. 

You leaned back in your chair, picking at the stiff fabric of your dress. Deciding not to wear anything Ashton had bought for you had been a struggle as he had somehow managed to fill up the entire contents of your wardrobe, leaving you with a stiff black dress you had worn once to a job interview.

Just as he began to raise his hand to ask, well click, for the cheque you noticed a waiter close to you and asked for dessert, the only redeeming feature of this restaurant was the chocolate orange brownies and you were determined to enjoy something today. Your date sighed in response, but you were over caring about his feelings when his responses had evolved from yeahs to the occasional hum.

The silence between the two of you was becoming unbearable and you were about to try and start a futile conversation again when a group of four rowdy guys came in, laughing with each other. You felt the atmosphere of the room instantly lifted when you heard a familiar giggle. 

Your heart began beating out of your chest when you turned and spotted a familiar head of red hair. You tried to shrink in your chair, pulling up the menu and propping it up on the table trying to cover your face. Suddenly you felt awful, picturing him yesterday when you ran out on him and now you were on a date. You shook it off reminding yourself that you weren't together, he had explained it himself when you first started your relationship. As long as you told him you were seeing someone else he wouldn’t mind...you hadn’t told him. 

“One brownie,” The waiter announced, placing the plate down in-between you and your date. 

“Thanks,” You smiled tugging the plate towards yourself. You looked over at Ashton, almost hoping he had noticed you, but of course, he hadn’t. You felt your jealousy creep up behind you again, he never said that he had to tell you, what was stopping him from doing this same thing, after all, you were doing it. 

You looked from your plate of brownies to your shit date. You remembered when Ashton had brought you some of these because he knew you would like them, you wished you were here with Ashton, you wished you were home with Ashton cuddled up in bed, you wished you had never gone on this stupid date. Never argued with him this morning just because you were jealous. you felt your eyes begin to sting and before you could help it you were crying your tears dripping onto your brownie diluting the thick chocolate sauce.

Your date looked shocked, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish before he raised his and started clicking. “We’d like the cheque please.” He grumbled. The waiters rushed over, rolling their eyes.  

“It’s already been paid, sir,” 

“What? By who?” Your date questioned while you continued to sob into your plate. 

“That gentleman over there.” The waiter explained, pointing over at your red-haired lover. Making you cry even louder as he asked you if you wanted your brownies to go. 

It felt like Deja Vu as you walked through your door two days later, Ashton standing in your living-room countless shopping bags swinging from his arms. “Ash?”

“Doll! You’re home!” Ashton greeted, holding his arms wide, trying to embrace you but being held back by the bags hitting against you. “Oops.” He smiled dropping the bags to the floor and going to embrace you again this time succeeding. You cherished the moment, wrapping your arms around him taking in his scent. 

“I missed you,” You mumbled, nuzzling your face into his chest. 

“It’s been two days baby, how can you miss me already.” He laughed. You shook your head, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Ok, ok, how about you open your presents.” 

You whined, holding onto him tighter, refusing to let go. 

“Babbby.” Ashton scolded.

“Daddddyy,” You countered making him shake his head and wrangle himself out of your grip. 

“I told you not to call me that,” He said trying not to smile. He sat down on your sofa, pulling you onto his thigh, he wrapped his arms around your waist making you relax against him. “Ok come on baby, how about you open something?” 

You sighed, turning to face him. You cupped your hands around his face, your eyes scanning over his every feature, your thumb rubbing against his cheek. You tried to remember everything, the curve of his nose, the curl of his smile, the exact shade of hazel that made you fall in love with his eyes. You brought your lips together, memorising the feeling of his lips against yours, you nipped at his lips, begging for entrance. When the two of you kissed it felt like two waves crashing into each other. You only pulled away when you had to your body desperate for air. 

You took a deep breath “Ashton I don’t want to be your sugar baby anymore.” 

The smile fell from his lips, his mouth curving into a frown. His hands barely holding onto your waist. “I-you-we-...” He was speechless his eyes growing dull, beginning to sting.

“I don’t want you to buy me anything anymore, I don’t need extravagant gifts, I don’t need any gifts.”

“I-” He interrupted only to be cut off. 

“I just need you.”

Tears dripped down Ashton’s cheeks as his mind tried to process what you said,  “Just me?” He whispered, his lips ghosting yours. You pressed your lips to his so hard you knew they were going to bruise. 

“Just you.” You confirmed. His arms were tight around your waist as he pulled you both off the sofa, swinging you around making you squeal as your legs flailed out. “You don’t mind?” 

“MIND? I’ve never wanted anything more.” He sniffed, “Fucking hell baby, I thought I was about to lose you, why would you word it like that?” 

“Hey, i thought i was gonna lose you too!” You scowled, pecking him on the lips.

“Baby, I love you more than anything how could you ever think I would let you get away.” He croaked. 

“You love me?” 

“Was it not obvious? I built your cat a fucking castle,” Ashton giggled.

You pecked his lips again. “I love you too,” and again “so” and again “so” and again “much”

“Be mine? properly this time.” He asked, his eyes staring deep into yours, his breath panting against your lips. 

“I’ve always been yours”

[graylinesspam]

Goodnight Mr. Parker

Peter has had to sit with a lot of kids. It came with the job, both of them. Waiting to hear from a parent was a regular accurate as both Spiderman and kindergarten teacher Mr. Parker.

Most kids are a quiet sort of uncomfortable. A little less themselves outside the presence of their parents. But Peter had known Paige for the better part of six weeks now and if there's one thing he's come to understand it's that she’s one to break the mold.

She animated while discussing the intricate workings of her alarm clock. She said it stopped working a couple weeks ago and instead of throwing it out her dad let her take it apart to see how it worked. Her dad does that a lot. When he's home. Paige's dad works late and usually her aunt watches her or her grandma. [More]

But today her dad is coming to pick her up and they're gonna go see a play. She's wearing her nice sundress and everything. It's all she'd talk about during class that day. But now that the other kids have left and the parking lot is empty she has a nervous edge to her movements. Her white flats scuff the ground. Her hands wrapped tightly around her backpack straps.

But she flashes that megawatt smile and carries on with her story. A clear form of deflection. He's seen Mr. Stark pull the same move a hundred times.

Peter smooths a long blonde braid from where it's become trapped under the strap of her backpack. A clear attempt at taming her wild curls, but there's a mutiny along her bangs where the short baby hair frizz and curl over her temples.

The sound of a truck approaching catches her attention. How she can distinguish it from the other dozen on the road baffles him but it's an odd ability shared by most in rural areas. She stretches up on her tiptoes waving excitedly and moving to barrel down the concrete steps.

Peter hold tightens on her hand. Unwilling to let her run out into the parking lot and possibly get hit by the oncoming vehicle. A bit ridiculous when it's only moving five miles an hour but call it part of his hero complex, he simply can't take the chance.

Peter finally walks her down the steps when the truck comes to a stop in front of them. She’s practically ripping his arm out of its socket in her hurry. Peter pulls open the door on the little two-tone pickup ready to help Paige up into the truck but the kid climbs up herself, clearly well versed in the art of truck climbing.

She's gotten up on her knees and chucked her backpack into the back seat before Peter has the chance to greet her father. He hears something like a warm chuckle and finally goes to introduce himself to Paige's dad.

Well, he was supposed to introduce himself. Instead, he found himself lost in a pair of familiar blue eyes. Apparently, Peter has discovered exactly where Paige gets her looms because her daddy's eyes have that same glint of intelligence. The kind that demands an alarm clock to be taken apart simply to see how it works.

They’re blue and deep and staring straight at him probably waiting for an introduction or at the very least for Peter to close the damn door so he can get on with his daddy-daughter date but peter's brain must have disconnected from his hands because he's still got one on the door and one on Paige's seat.

Paige finally breaks the long-strained silence that was most definitely self-inflicted by doing the damn polite thing and introducing them.

“Daddy, this in my teacher Mr. Parker. And Mr. Parker, this is my Daddy.”

The man calmly throws a hand across the seat and Peter grabs it in a firm shake before he can make any more of a fool of himself. “It's nice to meet you Mr. Parker, I'm Harley Keener.”

Stop panicking and say something!

“Uh, it's nice to meet you too Mr. Keener, I'm Paige's teacher”

Yeah, no shit Parker why else would you be hanging out with a five-year-old in a school parking lot.

“Her homeroom teacher”

Mr. Keener slips a grin to his daughter.

“I know Mr. Parker, you're her favorite, she talks about you all the time.”

Peter can't help but flash Paige a smile where she sits awfully quiet in the passenger seat. Watching them both closely.

And Peter is suddenly intimately aware of the fact that he has most definitely had a full blown gay panic in front of one of his very young students about her damn dad. And yeah, needless to say, he wanted to melt into the concrete.

Peter took a set back trying to reign in his clearly inappropriate reactions and move along with his day.

“Well, I’m honored to hear that. Paige is my star student. The smartest kid I've ever taught. Not that I've taught a lot. This is my first year. I guess she's my first favorite.”.

Oh God Parker stop talking.

Mr. Keener looks like he's about to say something when Paige still not buckled hops up onto her knees. “You should come to the play with us!”

Mr. Keener quickly intervenes. “Paige honey, Me. Parker probably already has plans. He can't just come with us last minute.

Wide blue eyes whip from her daddy to him. “Do you?”

When Peter just stands there looking confused Instead of answering Paige tries again.

“Do you have plans, Mr. Parker?”

“N-not really. I already finished grading all your homework” before Peter can even begin to comprehend the mistake he's just made Paige is out of her seat and practically in her daddy's lap. Puppy dog eyes set to full pity mode. “See daddy, Mr. Parker doesn’t have anything to do tonight, and I know he'll like the play because we were talking about it the other day and he's the one that gave me the idea to watch it anyways.”

Harley's oh so blue eyes flash over to Peter a look of apprehension in them.

“No Paige, your dad is right. You two are going out together. It's your day, you should go have fun.”

Paige rolls her eyes still clinging to the front if her daddy's light blue button down. “That's dumb, your fun, so if you come, we'll just have even more fun”.

It goes on like that for a bit until Peter somehow finds himself climbing into the back seat of a strangers truck off to see the drama class’ rendition of little shop of horrors and he can't quite figure out how he got there.

He vaguely remembers Paige's very convincing speech but mostly he remembers the sharp baby blues starting at him from slightly above her head. And somehow he thinks it's the best decision he's made since he moved here.

@peachy-keener

My first prompt. A bit short on the Harley but I hope I portrayed Paige well.

[randomdcfangirl]

Personal Hairstylist

Okay, this is Jason x POC Reader but reader is not living anymore. It's probably going to be sad and or triggering so be warned. Anyway, because reader was mom and is dead that means Jason dose her hair and things the 'moms do' (I put that in quotes because there are a lot of amazing single dads out there that don't have the recognition they deserve). So Jason is a single dad, daughter is about 6 years old.

Btw I'm a mixed girl who has extremely mixed hair. If you didn't think it was a thing OH MY GOD. My hair is a mess, it's curly and just a lot to handle. When it's wet and full of conditioner oh it's easy but when it's dry and tangled don't even think of getting a brush through it. But anyway my mom is black and my dad is white, I appear as a 'white girl' because my mom is light skin. I have 3 siblings and we are all the same skin tone.

Warnings: a couple cuss words, mentions of death, possibly triggering, Justice League is kinda insensitive, kinda depressing but it has a happy ending.

(D/N): Daughters name, (Y/N): Your name (L/N): Last name

Loosely inspired by a headcanon I saw by @secondratefiction

(btw the picture is a example of their daughters skin tone and hair type, but you can use her as your daughter if you would like).

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The night Jason got the news you weren't coming home he broke. He didn't care who saw or heard, all that was on his mind was the fact that you were gone. He cried, about the pain, about what happened, what this would mean for (D/N) since she was 8 months at the time.

You were in an accident, a MAC truck driver didn't look before pulling out and smashed your car. Your injuries were bad, like really bad, swollen brain, fractured skull, broken legs, spine, arms, ribs and many more injuries. You were lucky you didn't die on the spot, you were in a coma for 3 weeks before you passed.

Jason was sitting at home with the 8 month old baby in his arms. Bruce and his brother's were there to check on him, Alfred was there to take care of (D/N) when he went back to the hospital for the night. But instead Jason's phone rang, he set the sleeping baby on the couch next to him, he was there so she wouldn't fall, then answered.

"Hello?" He answered over the phone.

"Calling for Jason Todd?" The voice said.

"Thats me." He replied.

"I'm sorry to say but (Y/N) (L/N) passed away at 8:31 p.m., you may come here to see her and say your goodbyes." The doctor said. It was now 9:00 p.m.

Jason didn't know how to respond, so he hung up and threw his phone at the wall, shattering it. He had just seen you an hour ago, he came home to put (D/N) to bed then go back when Alfred arrived to take care of her. He was about to leave to spend the night with you there. That's when the crying came, no one needed an explanation, they understood what happened and started tearing up too. As much as Alfred wanted to cry as well as everyone else he just took (D/N) off the couch so the noise didn't wake her.

When everyone calmed down enough they went to the hospital. Jason brought (D/N) so she could say bye as well even though she doesn't understand. Safe to say that was the worst day of Jason's life, that beats his death, or anything horrible that has happened to him in the past. When they got to your room Jason laid your daughter on your chest that wasn't moving anymore. He laid his head on your shoulder as more tears and quiet sobs came out.

"I'm sorry it has to end this way. I can't believe you're gone, it hasn't set in yet. I love you so fucking much, I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm just so sorry." Jason said to your motionless body.

Jason felt a hand on his shoulder, he looked to see Bruce then turned back in your shoulder. The rest of the night was a blur to Jason, all he knew was he had to raise (D/N) into a queen he knew you would love.

Now it's almost 6 years later and Jason was getting (D/N) ready for school. He was doing her hair, when her hair was starting to get really long he taught himself how to do it. With the help of Kori, Barbara and YouTube videos, mostly YouTube because Kori and Babs didn't have hair like her so he got a lot of help from YouTube. It was definitely a trial and error type of thing.

But he did it, damn he was good too. He learned how to braid and how to slay dam edge's. He also is definitely teaching (D/N) how to embrace her curl's and love who she is. She's so much like you it's crazy, Jason has definitely cried over that many times but would never admit it.

"Okay, go look in the mirror." He told her as he picked her up off of the bar stool she was sitting on. They walked to the bathroom. "Do you like it?"

"I look so pretty." She said.

"Yes you do, like the queen you are." Jason told her. He was going to make her the most confident and independent woman you ever did see.

"Daddy, do you think mommy would like it?" She asked, the question stunned him for a minute but he composed himself.

"Yes, she would've loved it, almost as much as she loves you." Jason would never admit it but he almost cried.

"I wish she was here." She said, about to cry as well.

"Me too pumpkin," He sighed and picked her up them placed her on the bathroom counter by the sink. "But mommy wouldn't want us to be sad, she would want you to be happy, and you got me and I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay, I love you." She told him.

"I love you too. Now, how about we get you to school?" He asked her.

She nodded and hopped on the countertop to get her shoes. Slipping them on she asked her dad to tie them for her, he did and grabbed her bag. Walking out the door he made sure he had everything then locked the apartment door. She held his hand as they walked down to Jason's car. She was really small so she had a booster seat that she knew how to do, Jay waited for her to finish before driving off.

In the car they started talking about random things, like all the friends she's going to play with today and what Jason gave her for lunch etc.

"Your like my own hair dresser." (D/N) told him which made him chuckle.

"I like personal hairstylist better." Jason said as he stopped outside of her school. "Okay, let's walk you in."

So she unhooked her seat belt and got out of her seat just as Jay opened her door. Once again grabbing his hand to walk her inside. Getting to her class she, Jason crouched down to hug and kiss her.

"Bye daddy." She said.

"Bye, have fun, okay?" He told her smiling.

She nodded and ran in the class, Jason watched her put her bag in her cubby then go sit on the rug with everyone else that was there. Jason looked and smiled one last time before walking back to his car. He had to go to the manor for some vigilante stuff, he had stopped missions and only patroled sometimes so he could take care of (D/N). He did help with behind the scenes stuff sometimes too.

When he pulled up to the manor he just walked in the door and down to the cave. Tim's face was in his computer as always, Dick and Damian were sparring, Babs was on her laptop looking through case files, Alfred and Bruce were at the Batcomputer looking at something.

"Hey jaybird, how's it going?" Dick asked.

"As well as it can." Jason responded.

That made everyone look at him.

"Where's (D/N)?" Tim asked finally pulling his face out his screen.

"School." Jason told him.

"What day is it?" Tim looked at the date.

"It's Tuesday. When was the last time you looked at the date?" Dick asked.

"Saturday, I think. Friday maybe?" Tim said.

"If you got you face out if your screen you might actually have a sense of time, Drake." Damian said.

"Yeah, Yeah demon." Tim shot back.

The case wasn't to tricky to solve but it was a league case so we had to talk to them over the phone. Then they were coming to Gotham because it wasn't safe to discuss it over the phone. Bruce was about to insist that he'll come to the watchtower but they hung up. Noticing what time it was Jason had to pick up (D/N).

"I have to get (D/N) from school." Jason announced going upstairs.

"Are you coming back?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah, she would kill me if she found out I came here without her then didn't bring her." Jason chuckled.

A noise no one has heard from him in a long time. It put a small smile on Bruce's face, he was getting soft in his older years. Especially with (D/N) since she was his first grandchild, Dick and Babs didn't have kids yet, Tim and Cass (wondergirl) were really young still and Damian and Raven were also really young. (Y/N) just happened to get pregnant and it wasn't planned, that's how that happened.

Jason drove to the school and walked to her class. She already had her bag and was waiting for him. But her hair was all over the place, one bun was out the other falling and the back had grass in it and was all frizzy. Jason suspected she was rolling in the grass.

"Hey princess." Jason said to her.

"You said I was a queen." She told him.

"You are a queen," Jason picked her up "But you're my princess."

"You're silly, dad." She giggled.

"Also, what happened to your hair?" Jason asked her. She shrugged. "Okay, we are going to the manor because daddy has some stuff to do, but do you want me to fix your hair?"

"Can you fix my hair in the," she stopped looked around to make sure no one was there then whispered. "Batcave?"

"Sure." Jason chuckled.

He walked back to the car and they both got buckled up for the drive to the manor. Once they arrived they once again went straight to the Batcave. The league was there but (D/N) didn't care and immediately ran to Bruce, he was talking so she quickly and quietly set in his lap waiting for him to be done. Once he was she said 'hi' and gave him a hug, The JL already knew about her so it wasn't surprising to see her. What was surprising to them was the fact Bruce smiled at her.

She greeted everyone else while Jason went to get her hair stuff that they'd left over here. Alfred had put it in Jason's old rooms bathroom for them. They're was a paddle brush, wide tooth comb and some products to keep the frizz down and a spray bottle with water in it. When Jason got back down there (D/N) was already sitting on a stool waiting. Dick wasn't to far either, so they were talking about stuff.

"What's going on with your hair there?" Dick asked her.

"I was playing." Was her response.

"I picked her up like that, I have know idea how it happened." Jason told him.

He got up behind her and started fixing the mess of hair she had.

"How do you want your hair?" Jay asked her.

"Can you put it up, I'm hot." She said.

"I can do that." Jason said.

So he did a bun so it was off her neck and shoulders.

"You're really good at that." Flash said surprised.

"I better be after doing it for over 5 years." Jason replied as (D/N) got off the stool.

"Daddy, I'm hungry." She told him.

"Oh come this way Miss, (D/N). I have some cookies upstairs waiting for you." Alfred said after over hearing her and grabbed her hand walking her upstairs.

Jason watched them with a small smile as his gathered up all the hair stuff to put back upstairs later. The league had a few questions about things but Jason didn't bother answer any. He was just helping them get filled in on the part of the case he worked on. After a little bit he went upstairs to put the hair stuff away and check on (D/N).

"So spooky, where's his baby momma?" Green Lantern (Hal) asked.

"(Y/N) was her name, she was in a fatal car accident 8 months after (D/N) was born. Automatically leaving Jason with his daughter and having to play both roles." Bruce told them.

"That's rough, dude." Flash said (Wally)

"It is, Jason is sensitive to that topic so don't ask him about it. Especially in front of (D/N)." Bruce said. His voice was very demanding so they didn't want to test that.

"Yeah, don't do that unless you want to be shot." Tim chuckled.

"Would he do that to us?" Wonder Woman asked.

"He would, if you haven't noticed he doesn't taken to you guys ver well." Damian said. Then mumbled "Although you imbeciles probably wouldn't notice."

Superman heard but didn't know how to respond. He thought about saying something but realized it would probably get him insulted further.

"Yeah, you guys really get on his bad side." Dick confirmed. "Jason has been through hell and back, literally, and he feels like y'all treat him like any other criminal. Except you don't take him in."

"We do because he is." Wonder Woman said.

"Jason is a good man who's made some bad mistakes. He doesn't even put his mask on nearly as much as he used to. That changed when (Y/N) died." Barbara told them.

The League went quiet to process what the bats just said. But shortly after Jason and his daughter came back downstairs, they came to say bye because they had to go home. They said bye and (D/N) gave everyone a hug, including the league. Getting in the car they drove home. Once they got home and went inside they hung out for like an hour.

"What do you want for dinner, pumpkin?" Jason asked her.

"Ummm, pizza." She said excitedly.

"I guess we could, we haven't had it in awhile. Can you get my phone out of the kitchen?" He asked, she nodded and walked to go get it.

When she came back with his phone he ordered the pizza and waited for it to be delivered. When the knock came he went to the door to get it. He told (D/N) to get 2 paper plates from the kitchen, when she came back she placed them on the coffee table.

"Can we watch a movie?" She asked.

"What movie do you want to watch?" Jason replied.

"Frozen." She set down on the couch and Jason put her plate with pizza on her lap and went to turn the movie on.

After he put it on he joined her on the couch with his own plate and watched the movie too. Once they were both finished and so was the movie Jason got (D/N) all clean and ready for bed. She had her favorite pair of pajamas that consisted of blue cupcakes shorts and a short sleeve shirt with a cupcake on it. Jason read her a story, it was 'Brown bear Brown bear', after that was done he kissed her goodnight and left. He came to check later to see she was sleeping super peacefully.

What a perfect end to the day.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Okay, I was going to post this earlier today but I fell asleep lol. I really hope you like it.

[theyrealllegends]

Careful (Roger Taylor x Reader)

Chapter Summary: As promised, you went out to have drinks with Roger and the boys after your final exam not knowing what the night would bring

Author’s Note: I love soft Rog if I may say so myself. There’s going to be a little bit of action in this chapter and a bit of angst maybe? Hope you enjoy it, kids!

Words: ~2.5k

Warnings: swearing and drinking

Chapter 3:

Previous Parts: Ch. 1, Ch. 2

The drive home from your new flat was fun because in the middle of the talk the two of them fell silent and you could see Freddie stare at Roger in disbelieve before Roger moved really slowly to turn up the radio’s volume.

Roger snorted before he turned to you at a red light. “You hear that, love? And this fucker in the backseat said we were too bad to be played on the radio!” His imitation of Freddie and the fact that he started beaming with luck made you smile but as Freddie raised his voice to sing along to the song - and it was no-one else but him singing the original one, his voice was truly glorious - and Roger ran his hand through his hair before softly humming some background notes, it almost made you cry. It was a beautiful song and hearing Roger’s husky yet somehow deep singing voice gave you goosebumps in the best way possible. 

When you got home after your exam on Monday, you went straight to Roger’s room and dropped yourself on the bed next to him. 

“I fucking did it”, you told him and he laughed, starting to run his fingers through your hair. 

“Yes, you did. Also, you already adapted to Freddie’s talking.” He was right, you never swore. And you had no idea what had made you that moment but it didn’t really matter, because seconds later you were asleep. 

You woke up to somebody’s laugh and the smell of pizza. You also noticed, that Roger must had taken your shoes off and covered yourself in one of his blankets. When you carefully peeked into the kitchen there were Roger, Freddie and two other, long haired men you’d never seen.

“Oh, there you are, princess”, Roger said beaming, as he got up. “I hope they didn’t wake you, we got you pizza. Vegetarian, right?”

“Thanks”, you said smiling. “I’ll make myself look decent.”

“Bullocks, Tiffany”, Freddie called you out. “You’re a sweet angel, especially compared to the look of these two”, he said, nodding into the direction of the two strangers. “That one’s Brian and this is John.”

“Nice to meet you”, you said and forced yourself to smile at them as if it wasn’t weird to have two men you’d never seen before in your flat. Brian smiled back while John looked at his pizza and blushed in a way you could relate to what made you feel better in an instant. 

“Come on, your pizza will get cold”, Roger told you, putting a hand on your lower back and softly guiding you to the table. 

“I’ll just grab a chair from my room”, you told him as the situation dawned on you but Roger just shrugged it off. 

“You’re tiny and a freaking athlete, Tiffy, don’t you think I’ll be able to handle your weight for the time it takes you to eat a pizza?”, he asked and you fell silent because you had no comeback for that, even though you were willing yourself hard to come up with some witty remark. Especially since you believed you’d be close to his height in heels. So you just allowed Roger to pull you onto one of his legs and the only comfort you found was that John blushed, too, as you felt your face burn. 

*-*-*-*-*-*

You tried not to stumble as Brian held the pub’s door open for you, smiling and you followed Freddie and Roger who were looking around with nothing but self-esteem, making you feel like they owned the place. They even made the waitress rush as they had settled on a table and you were trying to catch a breath through all the smoke and the smell of liquor in the air. 

“You alright?”, Roger asked you, his face close to yours so he wouldn’t have to yell for you to hear him. 

“Just thankful that you don’t smoke at home”, you told him and he chuckled softly, before putting his hand on Freddie’s lighter so he couldn’t motion it towards the cigarette between his lips. 

“You don’t smoke, love?”

“I’m a bore, I fear”, you told him and unintentional made the boys laugh, smiling at you heart-warmingly. 

“You’re most certainly not”, Brian assured you and John nodded in agreement. 

“What can I get you?”, the waitress interrupted Roger who was about to agree with Brian. 

“Four large pale ales and something sweet for our angel girl”, Freddie said before you could even think of something that wouldn’t mess with your head while not proving Brian wrong. “Oh, get her a cider, please!” Roger rolled his eyes at him but you tried to give him a reassuring smile, you could handle a little white wine, what harm could apple wine do you?

Except that it didn’t end with the first glass because one of the boys would just go for the same order in one hand-movement, probably to safe time. But as you lost count of how many ciders you’d had, you also didn’t mind about the smoke anymore. Actually, all you wanted to do was lean into Roger’s shoulder who at some point had sneaked his arm behind your body on top of the bench the two of you sat on with Freddie. You couldn’t take your eyes off his cigarette, the way he held it between two fingers, how he’d put it between his lips, inhale the smoke deeply and then letting it escape his mouth in a direction away from your face. You noticed you weren’t the only one feeling buzzed on the table as John, who they just called Deaky, started talking, making you giggle with his sharp tongue. 

“You good, babe?”, Roger assured himself again as you didn’t have second thoughts about resting your head against his muscular shoulder anymore. 

“Perfectly fine”, you mumbled, smiling while running your fingers through your hair. Roger’s eyes followed your movement and he smiled back at you. He looked like he held himself back from kissing the top of your head or something, but what did you know. 

“You should head home, soon, Fred”, Brian said at some point. It was too dark and your sight too blurred for you to read your wristwatch but you were sure he was right. “Mary hates it when you get home that late.”

“I hate to admit it, but you’re right”, Freddie said, grinning, before softly touching your shoulder. “You want to share a cab?”

“When it’s no longer our place or yours, Fred, but right now that wouldn’t make any sense and I’m not paying for your ride”, Roger said before you could say something. 

“Sharing a cab with you sounds fun to me, though”, you told him and Freddie’s face lit up. 

“You’re too sweet, Tiff.”

The way home wasn’t as bad as you’d feared. Roger’s arm was around your shoulders and yours was tightly around his waist to keep each other warm and stable and he was smoking with his free hand while the two of you couldn’t care less about the rain that made your hair frizz up or the cold wind whistling on the corners of the almost empty street. The fresh air helped you catch an easier breath than the smoke in the pub had let you and it made the pain behind your eyes vanish. It wasn’t until you tried to unlock your apartment’s door that you finally realised why Roger always had a hard time to be quiet. Getting your keys into the lock was an incredibly hard task and you felt like you needed the wall to be stable on the way to your room as Roger’s arms were around you all of a sudden. You covered your mouth to hold back the surprised scream that had formed in your throat as he carried you to your door bridal style. He softly put you down on your tidily made bed and your fingers caught the collar of his striped button down as you let yourself sink into your pillows. Roger laughed as his body moved on top of yours, his hands softly cupping your cheeks and his eyes beaming with joy. 

“You have no fucking idea how sexy you are, Tiffy”, he mumbled, his voice huskier than usual and his breath made you shiver as it touched your neck. 

“What makes you say that?”, you questioned as he moved to lie next to you. He fumbled around a little, so he could take off his coat and then extended one arm for you to rest your head on it. You started running your fingers over his ribcage, suddenly wishing he had worn something that wouldn’t cover his skin like this button down did. 

“It’s the way you move and your eyes, mostly”, Roger said moving closer. You ran your fingers through his hair as his head was above yours again. He closed his eyes and moaned silently as you gripped some of the strands, noticing that touching his hair was something you secretly had wanted to do for a long time. Roger’s lips felt hot as they found yours but he at least tried to keep the kiss soft and at you pace as you got over the initial shock. Then you felt a tingle in your whole body that made you feel light and all warm on the inside, making you wish to feel more of him, his body close to yours and his bare skin under your fingers. At some point, Roger pulled you on top of him, so the two of you could continue the heated kiss while you finally unbuttoned his shirt and his hands were under your dark-grey turtleneck, touching your waist and your tummy but only up to your belly button, as if he was scared you wouldn’t want him to get dirty with you. 

*-*-*-*-*-*

When you woke up, your heartbeat was loudly pounding in your head and you felt like you could finish three bottles of water in a row. You tried to turn around and moaned because the room started spinning around you in the process, leaving you to lie on your back and stare at the ceiling until it eventually got better. Finally, you managed to sit up and put your feet on the ground, even though you didn’t really know how you were able to walk and make it to your door without knocking down your wardrobe in the process. Maybe it was the smell of grilled cheese and the thought that carbs would soak up the leftover alcohol in your body that gave you the strength to make it to the kitchen. Your heart clenched as you spotted Roger, preparing you tea in just his jeans and you thought about how he must’ve felt when he’d woken up. You thought it was impossible that from all men, Roger Meddows Taylor could be interested in you. The girls he’d had in the past were all incredibly pretty, with blond hair and big boobs - or big butts, or both, really - and white smiles and everything you didn’t have. 

“Morning, love”, he mumbled to your surprise. His voice was hoarse and it made you shiver. 

“Hey”, you answered, noticing the pain in your throat and Roger smiled, as you moved over to sit on the kitchen’s counter while he was carefully putting hot water on the tea bags in the two mugs you two had chosen were your favourite ones. 

“You okay?”, he asked you softly, running his fingers over you leg quickly before biting his lip and removing his fingers.

“Everything’s hurting but I shall survive”, you said and he laughed what made him cough a few seconds later. 

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable last night”, he said as he caught his breath again. 

“I was thinking just the same”, you mumbled, blushing.

“You’re a fucking precious girl, I really shouldn’t be touching you, at all, actually.”

“But -”, you tried to come up with an argument, hating your law infused brain failing to do so. 

“You’re just -“, Roger tried to explain, looking lost and you started to feel sick as he was searching for the next words, trying to get ready for the pain he’d make you feel but knowing you’d never be prepared for his rejection. He could make you melt in his hands and you’d never felt the desire to be close to someone that Roger made you feel. “You’re so pure, you know? I don’t want you to lose your innocence because I really don’t deserve that.” He fell silent as he could see tears in your eyes and Roger’s heart clenched. 

He’d loved every single second about last night, every noise he had pulled from your lips; your soft moans and your heavy breaths had been music to his ears. The way your fingers pulled at his hair or moved over his body before finally getting rid of his shirt send electric shocks through every last corner of his body, making him want you like he’d never wanted anything else before. Your smell made his senses go crazy and feeling your heartbeat close to his as you fell asleep was the most peaceful experience he’d had in his whole life. Yet here he was, trying to fight down his boner which he knew was a battle he couldn’t win as long as he had you so close to him. He knew he wasn’t good, would never be good enough for you and the last thing he wanted was to make you cry - which was exactly what he did with his words. 

“Tiff, please”, he said softly. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, babe, I don’t want you to cry for me!” You had a hard time breathing and the look on his face, the worry in his eyes made it worse. 

“No, I’m sorry”, you got out somehow, trying to move away from him but you couldn’t move as you saw the muscles under his skin stiffen and his gaze becoming desperate. “Can we just have this tea, please?”

“Of course”, he didn’t hesitate to answer softly. He pulled out the tea bags and moved for the fridge to hand you the creamer. It took you another cup to be able to carefully slip off the counter before you sat on the table and silently ate the grilled cheese Roger had made for the two of you. It was the best thing you had eaten in your whole life, it felt like, especially because it really helped to clear your thoughts. 

“Rog?”

“Hm”, he let out to let you know he was listening.

“We’re alright, aren’t we?”

“If you’re alright, I am, Tiffy.”

“I am”, you said and he smiled. 

“I’m glad, love.”

Tags:

@discodeakyy @crazyweirdocalledfriday @blondecarfucker

Just let me know if you want to be tagged or have any other comments or wishes 💕💕

[tlbodine]

Hair

I’ve always had...baggage...about my hair. 

I was born bald as a cue-ball, a situation that took nearly a year to remedy before a fuzz of baby-fine curls installed themselves. There’s a curl from my first haircut in my baby book, and it’s the color of butter and finer than a spider web. 

By the time I was three, my hair was past my shoulders and coiled, bouncy gold ringlets that put Shirley Temple to shame. Strangers wanted to touch it, and often did, approaching me on the street and cooing in delight about what a pretty little girl I was and what wonderful hair I had. They called me Goldilocks and Rapunzel and sighed wistfully that they wished they could have hair like this. Sometimes they would run their fingers through it and say just how much they’d love to play with it; they’d say I was just like a real life Barbie doll, and how much fun must it be. 

By the time I was six, my hair was butt-length and still baby-fine. It was the color of fine gold chain and just as prone to tangling. Five minutes in the wind and it would be an unbearable snarl that would take hours to uncomb. 

We kept it braided most of the time, because there was no other way to tame it. Every morning my mother would unbraid my hair, and brush it, and it would be free for just a few minutes before going back into a braid. Curls always worked their way free of the braid, leaving a halo of frizz. 

On fancy occasions, we would braid it into a dozen cornrows that fell to the middle of my back and swung like a cat-o-nine-tails. I felt like Medusa, imagining the coils of snakes, and felt empowered and curiously afraid of myself. 

~*~ 

"I hope you’re not tender-headed,” they would say, and I would grimace and brace myself because it would not matter if I was. 

My mother would take me to salons sometimes. More strangers touching my hair, fussing over me, wielding combs and sprays and blow-dryers. All of them wanted to play with my hair. None of them knew quite how to handle it. Little blonde girls with curly hair to their knees, fine but dense, so thick that things could be taken up into it and consumed -- they thought they were prepared, but they never were. 

I never got a haircut. It would have been such a shame to cut such beautiful long hair. But a few times a year, we would book me for a shampoo and style, and they would detangle my hair. It would take three stylists. It would take three hours. 

By the end, it felt as though my scalp were bleeding. But I dared not say anything, because I understood that being tender-headed was a character flaw that i could not afford with the type of hair I had. 

~*~ 

My hair did not belong to me. 

It belonged to the stylists, who would loom close in my personal space and come up with ideas and suggestions. No one asked what I wanted, and I would not have known what to tell them even if they had because I had never had the opportunity to form those opinions. 

“It’s so long and curly and blonde!” Was the delighted, surprised refrain. “Let’s straighten it, and cut it, and what if we dyed it?” 

My hair belonged, too, to my mother, who spent so many hours with it, and grew so impatient with me when it would not behave. A day or two of neglect would lead to the creation of terrible, golf-ball-sized mats and snarls of hair. It would take hours to work through them. 

It got tangled from a swimming pool once, leading to hours of painful pulling and tugging and frustration. We were staying in a motel in another city where my father was traveling for work. There was a Toys R Us, and they’d promised I could go and pick something out for myself after we were finished making me look presentable. 

I snuck away to the bathroom and found scissors and cut away at a little bit of the impenetrable snarl of hair. I thought maybe if I just cut a little bit of it, the rest would come loose and the tangle would fall out and we could finally be done with it and I could get the toy I wanted. 

“You cut your hair!” My mother sounded horrified and accusatory. I had betrayed her deeply, done a thing that was unforgivable. We did not go to Toys R Us. I was grounded. I never cut my hair again. 

I was eight years old. 

~*~

I did cut my hair once before that. My mother always cut her bangs straight across her forehead, a classic look for the sort of long, gently wavy dark hair she wore. 

At three years old, I tried to do the same. I grabbed a fistful of hair and chopped. My hair curled and coiled like the top-knot of a poodle dog. 

My childhood photos are all of a chubby blonde wild child, hair in a messy unkempt braid, a mess of frizz sticking straight up at the top. 

My mother kept cutting my bangs that way for the next eight years as an implicit punishment for my transgression. Even now she tells me: “You did it to yourself.”

~*~ 

“If you ever cut your hair,” my mother told me once, when I was in college, “I’d want you to have it braided and cut off the whole braid and give it to me to keep. Then you could style the rest however you thought you wanted.” 

~*~ 

I grew up with a certain paranoia about something happening to my hair. I was admonished never to fall asleep while chewing gum or candy, lest it fall and tangle my hair (never mind the choking risk, that was not important). I was made paranoid about the prospect of boys behind me putting things in my hair or cutting it with scissors if I sat at a desk. This never happened, but I was warned against it many times. 

When I went to sleep-overs, my parents advised me to sleep with my braid pulled around to the side, to hold it like a teddy bear, so that no one would cut it in my sleep like in the Bible story about Samson and his beautiful long hair. 

~*~ 

By the end of high school, I had disengaged from my hair. 

It was no longer a part of me, or a thing that belonged to me. I shared a body with it, but I knew better than to touch it. There were rules in my house regarding my appearance and what I was and was not allowed to do with my body. I could not cut or dye my hair. I could not wear makeup. I could not paint my nails. I could not wear revealing clothing. I could not read Seventeen magazine. I could not perform femininity. 

I did not bother with trying to rebel against these limitations. I surrendered to them whole-heartedly. I wore jeans and shapeless t-shirts and tied my hair back in a ponytail and pretended it was not there until it grew so matted that I had to spend a day detangling it, and then the cycle would resume. 

Strangers stopped commenting on it. People stopped asking to touch it. 

~*~ 

In every photograph from my twenties, you cannot see my hair. 

A terrible irony: All your life, your most iconic asset becomes the one thing that no one ever sees. My hair itself had become like Rapunzel, locked away, too powerful to set loose. 

Every so often, I would let it down. Hours of preparation would go into it. It would look nice in photographs for an evening, and then it would return to its captivity. My hair was a wild animal that could not be trusted to run loose. 

~*~

In the shower, my hair becomes like razor wire, hard and sharp. I have scars on my fingers where the strands dig in, slicing down into the meat as I try to work out the knots and tangles. 

~*~ 

There is a difference between knowing what to do, and being able to do it. 

People will try to give you help, as if advice were the thing you were missing -- as if it were knowledge, and not ability, holding you back. It’s always well-meaning. It’s rarely helpful. 

Stop using shampoo. Stop using a brush. Use a comb. Blow it straight. Use a flattening iron. Detangle it wet. Only comb it when it’s dry. Use mousse. Use vinegar. Use coconut oil. Use this brand of shampoo. Conditioner, conditioner, conditioner. 

But you know. That’s the thing that no one ever realizes. Of course you know, because you have lived with this thing for all your life. 

The reason for your unhappiness is not, and has never been, because you don’t know what you’re doing. 

~*~ 

“I think I’m going to cut my hair.” 

I proposed the thought nervously, anxiously, the way you might confess to a crime that has been weighing heavily on your conscience. I had been up late the night before, imagining what it might be like, searching for images on my phone under the blankets in the 2-am darkness. 

“How short?” My husband asked, with signs of trepidation. 

I started to cry. And then I started to yell. I half-screamed, half-sobbed at him about hairdressers and a lifetime of baggage and fear and shame and bodily autonomy. 

And he held me and petted me and said, “Don’t worry about this. I’ll make the appointment. You can do whatever you want with it. I support you.”

I apologized for crying and he held me tighter and gently scoffed, almost incredulous. 

“Baby. You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to feel things.” 

~*~ 

We went to Supercuts. 

It’s not a fancy salon, but I didn’t want a fancy salon. I did not want to be fussed over. That kind of pampering, invasive attention would send me running. 

I waited for my walk-in. I did not throw up. My stomach rolled around in my gut and I thought I might start crying again, but I didn’t. I read a Joe Hill novel in the waiting room, and again under the dryer while a heat treatment worked whatever detangling black magic it was supposed to do. 

My husband (ever the gossip) prepped his hairdresser for me. He warned her that I had a lot of baggage about getting my hair done. She didn’t understand, not really, but I don’t think maybe anyone could. But she got the gist of it. She knew well enough to leave me mostly alone.

I showed her pictures of what I wanted. She did it, with minimal fuss, and minimal commentary, and at the end I saw myself in the mirror and all she said was, “That looks beautiful! Do you feel better now?” 

I did. And I do. 

BEFORE: 

AFTER: 

[qomrades]

HGFLHJGFHJG IGNORE HIS DAD

continuing on with the 1a fam posts, here are the kaminaris!! if it wasnt blatantly obvious last time, i am awful at making up names. because denki is the most middle child character i have ever seen, i figured he should have some family to match. the dad’s terrible terrible name + design is a result of one of @plusoultres’s stupid fucking jokes that went WAY too far

and so! without further ado, more info under the cut!!

- i was hoping to save his parents for last but i cant really leave that elephant in the room, can i? who cares actually, ill start with his mum

- hirai is a smart, decisive and no-nonsense kind of woman, who is very dedicated to her career as a university english professor. her quirk is ‘lightning rod’, which essential means her body is a conductor of electrical currents, but she doesnt have much of an oppurtunity to use it. personality-wise, she can come off as a bit cold, but shes honestly just driven, and would be very offended at the implication that she doesnt care for her children. although she still lives with them, she works long hours and foten does not have much time for her family, leading all her children to become pretty close-knit (in comparison to other families, at least). she is encouraging of denki’s career choice, but despairs at how this has made him abandoned almost all academics (he got the dumbass gene from his father, mostly).

- his dad... uh, his da- um... boruto is not actually like boruto, really. hes a very fun guy, but is, similar to his wife, dedicated to his career in japanese history, focusing on the kamekura and shogunate period government (so weapons, really. i have.... no excuses), although he is a specialist in many other areas. most of his work is collecting, researching, registering artefacts, although he is often sent to other areas to work with museums and local governments. he travels regularly to other prefectures, and so spends quite a bit of time away from home, but he stays in regular contact (not like his own father lmao IM SORRY). his quirk is ‘charge’, which is essentially the charging and releasing of energy, either in short bursts or large-scale waves.

- teiden is not actually mine!! his design and name are entirely @xkumah’s, who kindly let me run away with their wonderful idea! (be sure to check their art tag, theyve got some great stuff).

- teiden in relation to my stupid fam au is a bit of a hard-ass older brother, affectionate but in a gruff older-brother, kind-of-lives-here-kind-of-doesnt-i-mean-we-see-him-around-the-house-does-that-count kind of way. he doesnt have a quirk, which caused him some grief as a kid but is kind of a non-issue now that he has a job (hes a mechanic!)

- sei is only a year older than denki, which meant an unfortunate amount of shared rooms in their youth. she is pretty tame in comparison to her brothers, but has a vicious temper, which often is noticeable by her hair standing on end, and results in many static shocks to the back of the neck. sei’s quirk is ‘static’, which is like denki’s but less powerful (the buildup of electric charge with short, sharp release). it works fine for her, but is very painful trying to keep her hair from frizzing. in my mind, her personality is somewhat similar to jirou's (which really puts a damper on any kamijirou moods, OOPS). sei is very good at both japanese and english lit, like her mother, and helps denki write his essays sometimes (when shes not annoyed at him, of course)

-sanda (real smart name, i know) is like the more naturally cool denki. he is like the golden child, and has a very powerful quirk: ‘thunder’, which combines their fathers charge and mothers electricity to create a very strong release of electrical currents, which can reach very dangerous (and property damage-inducing) levels. he struggled controlling it as a young child and got his brain short-circuited pretty regularly (worse than denki), meaning lots of training from his parents and professional help, but he took to gaining control of his quirk very quickly and is now quite adept at using it.

- their inter-family relations are kinda complicated (as one would expect from a family of six, speaking from experience lol) so ill summarise real quick. denki has the displeasure of being the younger-middle (self-insert lmao), which means all the trappings of a middle child but with an added sense of entitlement from the ‘baby years’, hence his entire personality. he is very dedicated to looking cool, and i am almost positive his siblings have everything to do with it (middle-younger is a hard role, denki, i feel your pain). denki is closest with sei, sibling-wise, and she and him have that friendly-sibling rivalry that involves lots of mean name-calling and not acknowledging it properly when you accidentally hurt each others feelings. he loves sanda, but feels that little resentment for all the attention he gets (the perfect little boy he is), which has caused a bit of a rift between them (they grow out of it! its a very grumpy-hormone and irrational-rivalry-for-parents-approval kind of feud that is dropped and made fun of post-teenage years). teiden is a mixed bag: loving brother, but also major tough-love asshole who doesnt live with them anymore. he and denki were pretty close when they were younger though!

-theres probably more to say but i cant remember it lmao. you’re welcome to hit me up with questions about these guys!! i love to talk about nonsense so it would be very appreciated

[tedtcnk-blog]

e.m.t. - intro

I’m abigail but I go by either abby or gail and i go by she her pronouns. I live in edt timezone and I’m a seventeen year old junior in high school. I’m a pretty busy student seeing as i take mainly ap classes and am involved with several extracurriculars so i may not be EXTREMELY active, but im going to try my best to get to know you all and interact with everyone!! <3

&&introducing your character

[ marlon langeland. seventeen. he/him. ] EDWARD TONKS  has stepped through the barrier to platform 9 ¾. the SEVENTH  year HUFFLEPUFF  student is most looking forward to FEELING AT HOME AGAIN.. their peers describe HIM as ELEEMOSYNARY & FACETIOUS, and has dubbed HIM as the SOILED DOVE. TED  feels FORLORN  about the war raging outside of hogwarts plans to JOIN THE ORDER when the year is up.

&&aesthetic loud and echoing laughs, summer rains, late nights sitting in the dewy grass, watching fireworks light up the stars, goofing around and wrestling for fun, catching fireflies in mason jars, hair frizzing in the humid air, faces lit by lampposts and the moonlight, poofy and patterned duvets, spending all day wrapped up in the sheets, the smell of freshly cleaned clothes, sad songs played on low, tattered jeans caked with mud, sneakers with the soles falling out

&&bio

Ted Tonks, born with the full given and strictly biblical name Edward Michael Tonks, was born to a family who had three very cut and clean rules. For most of his life, at least the first eleven of them, he followed these rules without a hiccup. The first one was fairly simple; never bad mouth mom and dad, seeing as they feed and provide for you after all. The second was that everyone ate together as a family every other night, and that meant the whole family, including great-grandma and grandpa. The last was the trickiest being that it seemed to be about 100 rules in one. It, however, was the one that was the most unforgivable if broken, that being that it demanded that everyone in the family was to follow, without question, every word the bible said.

Though Ted’s family was fairly huge when you factored in cousins and such, it was mostly easy for him to follow these rules. Being the only child, he absolutely adored his parents and they somewhat adored him back. As a child he was always on his father's heels, begging to go to work with him in the summers and waiting by the front door for him to get home on school nights. The second rule, as well, was easy because he never questioned spending moments with his family and enjoying the good food that was always passed around. It was the third, however that stopped Ted in his tracks.

The way his mother was, it seemed like everything he did broke some rule. She’d snip at him for running in from the garden and dragging mud into the house, claiming that he’d broken some holy rule when really all he’d done was get a bit of dirt on the floor which was mind you, fairly easy to get up. He bit his lip and dealt with it, however.

When he turned eleven however, and it came time to go back to school, everything in his family dynamic shifted. He remembers distinctly the day when he got home from a friends house to his mother who looked like she’d never been more angry in her life. Without a word he fled to his room, not daring to pester her about what was for dinner or when his father was going to be home. Dinner time passed, and as he heard the typically clanking of forks and spoons he also heard bitter voices, speaking in hisses and whispers. Not sure what he’d done, he sat at his door, feeling guilty at every sound he heard as he picked at the dirt that was still smushed into his hands.

Eventually his mother explained to him that he had done something wicked, though refusing to explain, she allowed him to come down and eat his food which had already grown cold. The whole time he ate, he felt his father’s eyes from the living room watching every move he made and the way his mother stationed herself at the kitchen sink made her look like a hawk circling its prey. He finished and was led straight back up to his room, where his mother shoved a letter into his hand and left him to his own devices to figure it out.

During the week that led up to the date that had been so bitterly circled on the paper, Ted had been kept under the hawk eye of both his parents. They hushed him at dinner when he attempted to get answers about what the school was like and his father look down right offended when he asked when they were going to go get his supplies. On the day of departure, Ted was more than ready to leave and finally get answers on to why everything was so hush hush. He known he’d seen something about wizardry around the logo of the school’s letter, but he thought it was merely a joke or some sort of metaphor. Surely he wasn’t being sent to do magic, his mother always told him that it was evil and not real anyways.

Sure enough, only after a few minutes aboard the Hogwarts express did he really understand why his parents had been so quick to mute him and hide him away. Feeling awful, his first few months at school were awful. The kids laughed at him for not having the right supplies and wearing homemade robes that his mother had very obviously made with no care in the world.  Even after he finally was provided with the right things and fully grasped what Hogwarts was, not many seemed to even bat an eye in his direction. He learned, however, to make the laughing into background music and grew accustomed to the fact that both of the two worlds he belonged to would never fully see him as a member of their society.

&&some place magical

Ted has always adored the magical and home-y feel that hogwarts has given off. Though both parts of his life have it’s downsides, he finds hogwarts more of a home to him than his official “home” He adores the way the whole castle is detailed unlike his old shed-like house he grew up in. He was raised well off enough, but seeing as his family had a shared farming business, his parents never found it sensible to upgrade from their first home they’d ever gotten together. The house was fine, just bland. The walls were bare, the house was small, and felt more temporary than anything. It just felt like a home until they got a new one, like a halfway unpacked house.

The detail of the castle, the nooks and hidden halls and ornate paintings, all of it, captured his fascination. He never gets tired of roaming the halls, finding new places to stop for a quick moment of silence or a spot to do homework when his roomates get to loud.

&&anything else

Ted himself can be a bit opposite of his parents fuddy-duddy ways, and while this is a good thing, his childish like humor and attitude can get him into a bit of trouble at times. Its been with him since he was young. His mother was always on him for trekking mud through the house or spending too much in the yard and not inside studying. Now that he’s a bit more mature he knows better, yet his childish ways still sometimes get ahead of his conscious mind at times.

&&ted vs. tech

Ted is actually really well versed with technology and it’s ins and outs. Probably seeing as he grew up in the muggle world, he was used to always being surrounded to these devices and working with them from a young age. That and the only real way he connects with his father anymore is through their love for technology. His father, though his professional occupation is a lot more boring and repetitive, really enjoys messing with technology and figuring out how everything works. While Ted isnt THAT interested in the mechanics of it, he pretends to like it anyways. He’s more interested in the social media side of things.

That being said, Ted is a snapchat GOD and don’t you dare break your streak with him. He’s that bitch that sends streaks every HOUR to make sure none of them are broken and will give his password away to someone if he gets in trouble and has his phone taken.

He’s that person to put his phone on airplane mode as well while he reads dms. Rather be safe than sorry bc that way he can avoid whoever he wants :))))))

His twitter is also nothing but retweets from the account @garyfromteenmom

Want to see Ted go buck wild bananas? Literally play 1 second of goofy goober rock and he will be up and dancing faster than you can turn it off

[mhdiaries]

Diary of Howleen Wolf

Read my diary and I’ll make you howl!

On the 18th of July

Mom barked me out of bed this morning saying that I needed to get out of her fur for a few hours. It was that or help her with housework, and since yesterday I spent all day sweeping the attic.... sooo much dust!... I was out of the doggie-door before she could say boo. It’s hard not to feel screeching jealous of Clawd and Clawdeen, cause they always seem to be busy during the summer while I’m stuck at home playing cobweb cleanup. It’s tough being the little sister of two of the most popular monsters on campus - Clawdeen has her pack of friends, and Clawd has his bluddies and Draculaura, too. Meanwhile I texted my beast friend, Twyla, to see if she wanted to come lurk in the park with me today, but she can be pretty nocturnal. Not that I mind moonlighting with her, but sometimes a ghoul wants to get out in the sun, yanno? I took my soccer ball and got some solo practice in, but it’s just not as clawsome by yourself... it made me feel kind of lame, actually. I did see Venus sitting by the trees at on end of the park, but it seemed like she was having a really intense conversation with the oaks and I didn’t want to interrupt. I like Venus, but you have to watch out for her when she’s on the environmental warpath, or she’ll totally talk your ear off. Anyway, after a little while I got distracted listening... okay, eavesdropping... on her (who knew trees had so much drama?) and kicked the ball onto the casketball court where some older monsters were playing. They got fangry, and I wound up packing up and going home with my tail between my legs. Now I wish I’d ignored them and kept playing, cause now I’m bored again. Sooo. Boooored. I’d even listen to Venus lecture me about the dangers of styrofoam... at least it would be something to do!

On the 23rd of July

It’s hard not to feel funky when everyone besides me has things figured out for themselves. Clawdeen has fashion and Clawd has sports, and they both seem to just know what they want. Mom and Dad say I shouldn’t compare myself to them, or anyone else, but that’s such parent advice that I don’t feel like it should count. Besides, it’s not like I don’t know what I want to do... well, okay, it IS that, but it’s also that I want to do everything?? Like, once I spent two weeks trying to make a viral video for FrightTube. Then the week after that I decided that it was totally my destiny to be a superstar singer. Then three weeks later I was totally focused on my future as a Howlympian athlete! And I haven’t stopped wanting to do any of that stuff, but it’s too hard to do it all, and impossible to pick only one, especially cause I don’t know what I’m really good at yet. I feel like I’m getting to a point where I choose or I lose. I mean, what if I discover my hidden talents too late to do anything with them? It’d be so, so tragic. That’s why I’ve been trying so much different stuff this year - music lessons, dance class, everything I can get my claws on. Something will click sooner or later, right?

On the 29th of July

Today I heard... okay maybe eavesdropped on... Draculaura telling Clawd about a big open mic poetry scream going on at the Coffin Bean at the end of the summer. I went on their web site page to check it out, and now I think I might want to try it out, too? I mean I’ve written some poetry, and I’m always accidentally rhyming all the time. And my hip-hop dance classes have totally infused me with the muse... see what I mean? Yeah... I think I want to do this! But I gotta text Twyla and see if she’ll come out for moral support. It’s at night, and the Coffin Bean is usually pretty dark, so she’ll have no excuse not to come - besides, she loves their cupquakes.

On the 30th of July

I finally talked Twyla into going to the Maul with me. If you let her she’d probably stay in the shadows all summer, but lucky for her I won’t let lurking boogiemen lie! We went to the fur salon, and I picked out some new colors for my ‘do - I’ve been letting it go natural lately, but that doesn’t stop me from switching up my style all the time. I wound up buying like five different colors because I couldn’t decide on just one. After that we split a big booberry smoothie at the food corpse and we talked for a long while. Well... mostly I talked, Twy listened, because she’s a clawsome listener. She let me howl about how was I supposed to pick what I wanted to do with the rest of my life if I couldn’t even pick a hair color? I asked her what she thought I should do, and she got this really freaky intense look, like she was thinking hard, and then she flicked my ear and said, “I think what you really want to do is plan out your whole life before you live it, and you can’t do that, so stop stressing out.” Which is both good advice and totally useless because you can’t stop stressing out just because you want to, like, when has that ever worked in all monster history? But I do feel better, somehow. I think it helped to just talk about it to someone who gets me and doesn’t laugh when I say dumb stuff. She also agreed to come cheer me on at the poetry scream. There’s a reason Twyla is my beastie. =)

On the 10th of August

Clawd and Clawdeen actually weren’t busy today for once. Even though they’re a pain in the fang, hanging with them can still be scary-fun. Sometimes. Clawd talked us into playing a pick-up soccer game in the backyard, and Clawdeen didn’t even get growly when she fell into one of the holes Clawd made along the fence... he likes to bury things in the dirt and dig them up later. I think it’s a boy thing. We’ve all got game, and later we did get into an argument about who had the most points - we’d said we weren’t keeping score, but no duh, of course we all were! But no one got their fur in a frizz about it for a change. After a while we were making up the biggest number we could think of and howling with laughter. Dad said later he almost didn’t want to call us inside for dinner because he loves seeing us act like one big happy pack. I think he misses when all my even bigger brothers and sisters were still at home... Mom teases that he’s got empty den syndrome. I miss my older brothers and sisters sometimes, too, but they aren’t that far away. (Plus, not that they’ve moved out, the wait for the bathroom is a LOT shorter.)

On the 13th of August

I think I’m getting cold paws. The poetry scream is in just a few days, and my brain has been going all over the place since I said I’d go. What if I get stage fright? What if I totally blank and forget the whole poem? What if I’m not even that good? ...Ugh, okay, I texted Twyla, and she convinced me not to give up the ghost. Plus she pointed out that since it’s open mic, I can always just show up and decided if I want to go ahead with it when I get there. Sometimes I wish I could borrow Clawdeen’s confidence, not just her clothes... she never seems scared of anything.

On the 18th of August

Whoa, I’m still shaking. The Coffin Bean was WAY more packed than I thought it would be. There had to be dozens of monsters there, and I was a total casket case even with my beastie at my side until I ran into Clawd and Draculaura. I sort of hadn’t told them I’d be there, so they were scary surprised to see me. And then they found out I was sort of thinking about maybe performing, they wouldn’t let me get away with not doing it. So I signed up and waited for my turn, even though I was so howling nervous I could barely hear the poets on before me, and then it was my turn. I was so wound up that my eyes were practically crossing with fright, but I saw my bro and Draculaura waving from the audience, and Twy giving me the claws-up, I sucked it up and read my poem. I had it memorized and gave it everything I had, and the monsters in the crowd really seemed to dig it. I didn’t like completely bring the house down, but when even the zombies slow-clapped at the end and Clawd whooped for me it felt just little bit epic. Then Draculaura when on with this mega-romantic and sweet poem and she had the whole audience wailing like banshees. Even I got a little teary-eyed, and Clawd was whimpering into his coffinchino... he made me promise not to tell anyone lol. Of course she won first place for the night - not that I’m moaning. She totally deserved it, and I came i third, which made me feel pretty clawsome about the whole thing. Even Clawd was patting me on the back and bragging that I was his little sis to anyone who’d listen... which was embarrassing, but whatever, kind of nice too. =) I gave Twyla the biggest hug for staying with me, too, especially since crowds are one of her fangups. I have to say, I really liked tackling my fears... it makes me think maybe I’m ready for a whole new me next year! Watch out, Monster High!

[october-rosehip]

OC Interview Meme- Ceilidh

I was tagged by @mocha-writes, who has tagged some of the usual suspects so I will tag... @madamsnark and @icylook, in case you need a timewaster.

I’m convinced all my art sucks lately so have a dollmaker Ceilidh. You can play with it here... http://www.rinmarugames.com/playgame.php?game_link=mega-fantasy-avatar-creator

1. What is your name?

“Ceilidh Tabris. It is pronounced KAY-leeh.”

2. What is your real name?

“Hero of Ferelden, Arlessa of Amaranthine, Warden Commander, Maestra Arainai? Pick one.”

3. Do you know why you were called that?

“Assorted reasons.”

4. Are you single or taken?

“Taken.”

5. Have any abilities or powers?

“All sorts. I can sew, I know how to cook, I'm decent at poisons... Ohhh you mean ways of kicking ass.” By her smile you can tell she knew that, and is messing with you. “I'm very good at stabbing things very fast, I get really mean when I'm angry, and I have a good relationship with the fade for a 'normal'. I drank Avernus' weird crap, too, so there's that.”

6. Stop being a Mary Sue.

“Unlike certain cuddly mages a universe or two away from me, I'm quite sure that term doesn't apply to me.”

7. What’s your eye color?

“They're green. Most people tell me they're my best feature.”

8. How about your hair color?

“Dark brown. Can't you tell? I have enough of it.” She tosses her mass of curls around, several loops of braid almost failing to keep them from escaping and frizzing out in all directions.

9. Have you any family members?

“Yeah! My family's huge. My dad, Soris, Shianni, all our adopted Crowlets; Zev's family now, and we have a daughter. Also, we found a cousin in Kirkwall. At least, we're pretty sure. He could be my brother, as similar as we look, but we don't have access to his records. But seriously, our noses, eyes, and eyebrows clearly grew on the same tree.”

10. Oh? What about pets?

“I still have my dog, and I keep a butterfly garden wherever I go. And, I mean, I have a sword with an undead dragon in it? Is that a pet?”

11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.

“Damn right, it’s cool. Anyway, I don't like politics, but I'm doomed to be involved in them, forever. I also don't like Chantry people looking sideways at my kid.”

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?

“I love to read. I have those butterflies. Zev taught me to draw a little bit. We also have a slightly more personal hobby.”

13. Ever hurt anyone before?

“Of course. Often with much enthusiasm.”

14. Ever… killed anyone before?

“Did you notice that civil war we just had?”

15. What kind of animal are you?

“I don't do nice things to people who call me an animal. Just so you know.”

16. Name your worst habits.

“Other than fucking shit up for asshole humans? I... might have a bit of an issue with alcohol.”

17. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“All kinds of people. I didn't do any of it on my own, you know?”

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?

“Bisexual is the best word, I think.”

19. Do you go to school?

“Aw, you probably think you're funny.”

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

“I've done that. Though, I guess 'married' might be stretching matters, but like fuck I'm going to do that shit again.”

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

“I do, and it's weird.”

22. What are you most afraid of?

“Well, let's see... plenty of things. The world is scary. But I will tell you that I am NEVER going on my Calling and tradition can fuck itself.”

23. What do you usually wear?

“Ideally? Light linen or silk tunics and pants. Dalish leathers sometimes. Platemail more often than I want.”

24. Do you love someone?

“Very much.”

25. When was the last time you wet yourself?

“Other than when I was a baby? The beatdown I took on the way to Fort Drakon might have caused that. It's hard to tell. I don't remember it very well, but I was bloody, smelly, and concussed by the time I got there. That’s how humans deal with surrenders, for you.”

26. Well, it’s not over yet!

“What isn't, my life? Are you saying my time in human prisons isn't over? Because if that's the case, I should warn you that we're less alone than you think.”

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class)

“Are you fucking serious? Oh, hah, you are. Well, I have several titles and a ton of money but I have no idea what half those forks are for, and my ears are pointy. Too many people in Denerim remember me as an assistant tailor, and in Antiva, it's complicated. I bought a house of assassins to save on the bloodshed, but that makes me technically a Crow, and most Crows were slaves. Yeah... it's weird.”

28. How many friends do you have?

“So many. Lots of people are decent if you just listen to them.

29. What are your thoughts on pie?

“Pie is useful. You can turn anything into pie. My favorite involves cheese and vegetables.”

30. Favourite drink?

“I like brown ale and I like chicory. Zev makes fun of me for both, but mostly because he likes to make me pretend-angry.”

31. What’s your favourite place?

“Hmmm... the beach, I think. Also, the roof. I like fresh air and I like people not knowing who I am, right away.”

32. Are you interested in someone?

“In what way?”

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

“All right, look, underclothing sizes are complete trash, and if you want something to fit, you have to have it made. I can help you with that. But if you want to know how big my tits are, they range from smallish to medium depending on if I've had enough to eat, lately. Being a Warden is hard on the grocery budget.”

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

“Ocean! The ocean is awesome.”

35. What’s your type?

“I like someone kind, and funny, and not too far above me.”

36. Any fetishes?

“Oh, tons. I'll try anything once.”

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive?

“I don't take orders well, that's for damn sure.”

38. Camping or indoors?

“I love camping. It was so strange moving back into a building after the blight. That said, I'm sure everyone I know is glad Zev and I have walls, now.”

39. Are you wanting the interview to end?

“Are you trying to see how far you can push me? Is that why you're asking? Silly you.”

40. Now it’s over!

“Hah! I win!”

[spaztronautwriter]

The Proposal: Ch. 4 (an Olicity fic)

Summary: When Felicity Smoak finds herself in a bind, she enlists the help of her assistant Oliver Dearden to help her keep her from being deported and losing her job. The problem is, in order to do so, they kind of have to get married…

A/N: This is either funny or dumb, or possibly both idk. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Read Chapter: One | Two | Three | Four

Read on AO3

###

"At least your family lives someplace civilized," Felicity said as the flight attendants began signaling for everyone to file off the plane. "You could have lived in Alaska or something! That's the last thing I would have needed this weekend."

They’d just touched down in Starling City and Felicity was eager to step foot on solid ground once again. She’d never been a fan of heights, and flying always left her slightly cranky.

"What's wrong with Alaska?" Oliver asked, grabbing their carry-ons from the overhead bin. He maneuvered her bright yellow suitcase carefully, avoiding the people struggling to retrieve their own luggage in the row behind him. "Nothing's wrong with Alaska," Felicity said, moving out into the aisle when he gestured for her to go ahead of him. "Except that the reception is spotty and the wifi is practically non-existent." Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed his puzzled look. "The Internet exists in Alaska, Felicity," he said. "Sure," she agreed, waving a hand dismissively, "but you could have lived in some godforsaken fishing village where all they had was a dial up connection. All I'm saying is, I'm glad you're from Starling. It's a huge tech area, so we won't have any problems this weekend." One of the flight attendants smiled and wished them a good trip as they exited the plane. Felicity let out a relieved sigh once they reached the jetway, but her anxiety didn’t lessen the way she’d thought it would. It clung to her, making her limbs feel prickly and restless. Of course, that could have something to do with the fact that she was heading to her assistant's childhood home to tell his family they were getting married in just a few days time.

"Yeah, I doubt we'll be lacking for technology this weekend,” Oliver said from right over her shoulder where he was tugging their suitcases along.

"Huh?" She turned to him as they broke free of the cramped bridge and into the airport. Oliver sighed and then opened his mouth to tell her... something, clearly, but was interrupted by a loud shriek and then a tiny brunette launched herself across the terminal and into his arms.

"Ollie!" the girl cried, wrapping her arms around his neck. Oliver dropped the suitcases, grabbing the girl with a surprised, "Oof!" "Ollie, I'm so glad you're here!" the girl said, pulling back, but keeping her hands on his shoulders. "It's been so long I thought I'd never see you again!" Oliver grinned and Felicity was once again taken aback by it. He really did have a great smile. And something about this particular smile for this particular girl made him look lighter than she’d ever seen him.

"It's only been since Christmas, Speedy," he chuckled. "You act like I've been missing for five years or something."

"It feels like it," the girl, who Felicity realized was probably Oliver's sister, grumbled. She stepped further back and Oliver bent to pick up the suitcases he'd abandoned when his sister jumped him. "Thea, this is Felicity," he said, nodding in her direction. "Felicity, my sister Thea." "Hi," Felicity smiled, throwing in an awkward little wave when the young woman stared at her. "I wasn't aware you were bring a... friend, Oliver," she said, eyeing Felicity up and down in a way that made her feel very judged. Well, it’s now or never, she thought. Might as well get the fake fiancée stuff out of the way. "We're not friends," she said quickly, wanting to rip the bandaid off, so to speak. "I mean, we are friends, of course, we are. I just meant I'm not some flavor of the week type fling because we're... um..." For some reason, Felicity couldn't seem to get the words out. And this was just his sister! What would it be like to tell his parents or her mom, or to stand in front of everyone they knew and exchange vows? Why did she ever expect pretending to marry Oliver was going to be easy? After a moment of Thea's judgey raised eyebrows Felicity chickened out. "I'm his... uh, boss." Thea's eyes went wide and she looked back to Oliver. "Your boss Felicity? That Felicity?" she asked, and Felicity could hear whatever Thea was saying between the lines. She didn't understand it, but she knew it was being said. Oliver, for his part, looked totally unaffected by his sister. "Yes, my boss Felicity. And..." He glanced over in her direction, looking hesitant and Felicity totally understood why. They were informing his family that they were getting married this week. That was huge! She wasn't sure if Oliver was also feeling on the verge of a panic attack, but just in case she reached over and grabbed his hand, giving it a sympathetic squeeze. She didn't think about the fact that when he squeezed back she felt her own anxiety lessen just a touch. "She's more than just my boss," he said, his voice firm as he looked back at his sister. Thea's eyebrows flicked up, but she didn't interrupt. After a brief moment and another look at Felicity, Oliver took a breath and said, "She's my fiancée." Thea's eyes shot wide and her mouth dropped open, but then something flickered across her face and she composed herself with a small shake of her head. Her eyes were still wide with surprise, but she didn't look like her world had just been turned upside down. In fact, Oliver's little sister looked more than a little amused at the news. "Mom is going to kill you," she said, shaking her head slowly. She looked back at Felicity, her gaze no longer judging, but more appraising. "It's nice to meet you, Felicity. You don't look like the masochistic dictator my brother made you out to be." Felicity's head jerked back reflexively. "I'm sorry, the what?" she asked, pinning Oliver with a glare. Oliver was already shaking his head. "I never said that."

Thea laughed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

“Can we just go?” Oliver asked, looking slightly uncomfortable, which only made Felicity believe that he really had called her those things to his little sister.

“Sure thing,” Thea said, turning around and gesturing for them to follow. “Car’s this way.”

Felicity followed after Thea, Oliver lugging the suitcases behind her, as she led them through the airport and out to the designated pick up location outside. Starling City was a little more humid than she was used to and she could practically feel her hair already starting to frizz up. A sleek black town car was sitting on the curb, a tall man in a suit already pulling the door open for them. Thea climbed in and the man walked around back, popping the trunk and helping Oliver load the suitcases. Either this was the fanciest Uber Felicity had ever seen or Oliver’s family was more well-off than she’d ever imagined.

He’d said his family was well known, but he hadn’t really shared anything more than that. She should have just googled them, but she’d had other things on her mind, and as long as he wasn’t a fugitive, she really didn’t care who his family was. She was marrying him for a green card, not his family.

Felicity climbed into the car, Oliver following after her a moment later. It took the driver a few minutes to disentangle them from the long lines surrounding the airport, but soon enough they were heading towards the heart of Starling City.

Thea engaged them—mostly Oliver—in small talk for a few minutes, before her phone vibrated and her thumbs started flicking across the screen a mile a minute. Felicity didn’t mind. She was relieved to have a few minutes to herself before coming face to face with the rest of Oliver’s family. From what she knew, he only had the one sister, but both of his parents were alive and well. He didn’t have a great relationship with them though, and that didn’t bode well. She might not care who Oliver’s family was, but she was going to have the spend the next forty-eight hours in their company. What would they do once they found out Oliver was marrying some woman they’d never met? A woman Oliver apparently thought of as a masochistic dictator.

Oh, she and Oliver were definitely going to have words about that once they were alone!

She leaned her head against the window, looking out at the skyline as they approached the city. Starling really was a mecca of technology. Huge skyscrapers with names like Merlyn Global, Kord Enterprises, and Queen Consolidated rose up in the distance, a collection of some of the biggest tech companies on the west coast all in one place.

Queen…

Felicity spun in her seat suddenly, her ponytail whipping Oliver in the face as she did. He ran a hand over his chin, looking annoyed, but it quickly faded when he saw the look in her eyes.

“Your last name is Queen?” she hissed quietly, then glanced over to make sure Thea was still fixated on her cellphone. Once she was certain the girl couldn’t hear them, she added, “As in Queen Consolidated?”

Oliver opened his mouth then closed it, before running a hand over the back of his neck. When he looked up at her it was with a sheepish smile.

“Yeah, uh… About that…”

“What the hell, Oliver?” She didn’t even know what to begin to think. Oliver was a Queen, AKA one of the wealthiest families on the west coast. AKA the owners of one of the biggest tech companies in the country. AKA the freaking competition! “Are you a corporate spy?”

“What?!” He glanced over at Thea himself, but the twenty year old was still lost in a world of her own, completely oblivious to them. Still, he mouthed for her to shush, then leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “No, of course not.”

"That's exactly what a spy would say!" He cocked his head, clearly exasperated, and she shrugged. “Well, then… what?”

It didn’t make any sense. He was the heir to one of the largest companies on the west coast. Much larger than Palmer Tech. To be fair, Queen Consolidated was much older and had originally been more into production. They’d had factories all over the country, and it was only in the past decade or so that they’d switched over to the tech sector, creating software and technology for other corporations and even the government. She’d almost taken a job there when she’d first graduated from MIT. The only reason she didn’t was because the only position they’d had available was as an IT consultant, which was so far beneath her abilities she’d had to pass, even fresh out of college. It wasn’t like she’d been hard up on job offers though. Which wasn’t the point. The point was, it made no sense for Oliver to be working as her assistant when he was the son of actual billionaires.

He had to be a spy. Oh god, she was marrying a spy. He was going to get arrested for corporate espionage and she was going to go down with him. Why couldn’t he have just been a fugitive?

“Felicity,” Oliver said, sliding his hand into hers. She flinched, just slightly, but didn’t pull away. “I promise I will explain all of this to you later, okay? Just trust me.”

She nodded, but continued silently freaking out as they moved through the city. His hand in hers was solid and warm, but it didn’t relieve her anxiety this time. She wasn’t sure anything would at this point.