#was NOT supposed to be in caps but unfortunately a bitch be yelling all the time

[insatiablelustforpower]

WHO WANTS TO DO A HORROR THEMED THREAD...

[unfinishedslurs]

confession au (stonathan)

“I’m in love with you.”

Jonathan freezes in the middle of flipping through photographs.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Steve says, because he hasn’t moved at all. Just a blank expression, like he’s still trying to register the words. “I’d actually prefer it if you didn’t. I just wanted you to know.”

“Steve…”

“Don’t.” I don’t want to hear your pity. “Please.”

Jonathan puts the pictures down and studies him. Whatever he finds in his face turns him soft, makes him look at Steve like he does in the mornings, sweet and sleepy-eyed on the pillow next to him. It hurts, knowing that he might have just given that up for good. 

“Okay,” he says gently. “We don’t have to talk about it. But can I at least say it back?”

Steve blinks. “Oh. Umm, sure.”

“Okay.” Jonathan smiles at him. “I love you too.”

“Like, as a friend?” He asks tentatively. 

“No.”

He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t, because Steve isn’t worth that. He’s still kind of an asshole, even when he tries not to be, and the shit he said to Jonathan all those years ago was downright unforgivable. Even if Jonathan got his retribution in a concussion and year after year of world-ending crises that never seem to stop. He’s bullshit, a scared little boy wrapped in a nail bat and bravado. 

Steve opens his mouth to say all that, but the words get stuck in his throat. 

“Oh,” he finally says. “Okay. Cool.”

Jonathan nods at him, warmth in his eyes, and goes back to his photos. Steve keeps sitting there like his world hasn’t flipped on its axis. Eventually he moves closer, starts pointing out things he likes in certain pictures. How happy Will looks in this one, how Dustin doesn’t wear that cap anymore after an unfortunate accident with some coke and mentos. Lucas’s old headband he doesn’t wear anymore. Mike actually smiling. 

When he leaves, it’s with a photo pressed into his hand, of he and Jonathan during one of the first times they hung out together. It’s not a good picture, is the thing. Steve had taken it, had turned the camera around and told Jonathan to smile. Jonathan complained, said that wasn’t how a camera was supposed to be used, and that Steve was holding it wrong, and a million little other nitpicks. It came out blurry as hell. But he’d developed it. Had made multiple copies, and stored them in a shoebox to take them out with all the other memories. 

In the picture, Steve isn’t even looking at the camera. He’s grinning at Jonathan, who's clearly bitching but still has a smile hinting around his mouth. They look happy. 

“He what,” Robin practically shrieks. 

“He said it back!” Steve yells back, waving his hands in the air. “Like he meant it!”

“And you didn’t kiss him?”

“No, I just…” he groans. “I said ‘Cool,’ like a fucking loser.”

“Wow,” she says. “Just. Wow.”

“I know.”

“What’s your plan now?”

He sighs. It must sound particularly despondent, because she crawls across the floor to give him a nudge. “I don’t know,” he tells her. “I guess we keep on doing what we’ve been doing.”

[thedamageofherdays]

This week's [23-08-2021 - 29-08-2021] reading log is here! I read a lot again this week and I feel like it's a lovely variety of fics. Most fics are Stucky like usual, but there's at least one other ship. I am constantly amazed by the talent people have in this fandom! There was one fic I read on Tumblr that I can't seem to find unfortunately, but when I do I'll make sure to reblog and rec it 💕

Favourites are marked with a 🌻

When life gives you lemons by moonthejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 40k words, Mature] (12/15 chapters available)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

The Masseur and the Assassin by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 17k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes needed a vacation from his job. What he found was a happy ending.

The Words Breathe by buckbarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

All Steve has to do is keep his promise. When he doesn’t, Bucky gets mouthy.

Soft by this_wayward_life @wayward-lives [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

The last time he'd seen Bucky he'd looked unhealthy, with pallid skin and greasy, lanky hair. Now, Bucky shone; his hair was thick and silky, his skin a deep bronze from spending so much time outside. He was softer, too; the hard muscle that used to cover him was now replaced by soft fat, his body still strong, but in a more mundane way. His thighs were thicker, his ass plumper, and when he'd pulled Steve into the river Steve had noticed the pudge on his stomach.

Seeing Bucky so happy, well-fed and shining, was a bit of a kick in the face. For all the years they'd known each other, he'd never seen Bucky so... care-free. Now that Bucky was putting on weight, his middle soft and his body malleable, it sent a bolt of arousal through Steve every time he noticed the curves of Bucky's body.

Or: Bucky put on a bit of weight in Wakanda, and Steve is Not Coping.

🌻 Revive Another Side of Me by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Steve’s never lived in a world without Bucky, and he’s not living now. It takes them a while, much too long, to get that awaited rest, a little slice of peace after the dust has settled.Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are inseparable, history remembers. But they’re not men of the past quite yet.

🌻 imagine being loved by me by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Just after 1am - a few hours after he posted today’s photo - he hears the tell-tale sound of a twitter message. Bucky grabs his phone, not checking who it’s from as he opens it because it’s probably one of his mutuals yelling at him as per usual. When he actually looks at his phone, though, it’s not Natasha

The ‘verified’ check stares back at him for a long moment before he can even bring himself to process the name on his screen. Steve Rogers is messaging him. Or, he reasons, a very good fake. The handle looks right though, not that Bucky knows. Not that Bucky has Captain’s America’s tweets set up as notifications, or that Bucky’s own display name is set to captain america’s bitch. Not at all.

Hey, the first message says. It’s Steve.

🌻 JB’s Complete Lube Services by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

People just didn’t approach Captain America and proposition him. Although, sometimes Steve wished they would; even the pinnacle of virtue and justice needed to get dicked down from time to time.

Or, the one where Steve has the hots for a mechanic and decides to be proactive in getting that dick.

If it had to be someone by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Bucky had known since he was a child that he didn’t have a choice in who he married, but he’d thought he had more time before the day arrived.

Miscalculations by christywantspizza @christywantspizza [Ransom Drysdale/Reader, 6k words, Explicit]

Ransom tries to get you to sleep with him by less than honorable means. You give him what he wants, just not how he wants it.

How to Seduce a Writer by obsessivereader [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

What's a determined master strategist going to do when the oblivious writer he's trying to woo keeps missing all the clues?

He doesn’t think it’s because he hadn’t signaled his own interest to Bucky. He’s pretty much done everything short of hitting Bucky over the head with semaphore flags by this point. There’s no way Bucky could’ve missed them. Unless… There’d been that one link he’d stumbled upon when he’d googled ‘how to talk to a writer’. It’d been written by a writer, who’d been candid about how oblivious writers could be, and how someone could go about seducing one. An idea starts to form. It’s ridiculous, but at this point, he’s willing to go with ridiculous, since subtle wasn’t getting him anywhere.

🌻 Pod Bless America by Deisderium @deisderium [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Bucky can't believe his favorite podficcer recorded his newest fanfic AU of the show Commandos. He's even more surprised when the customer who busts him listening to fic while he's working in the office supply store turns out to be that podficcer.

* The guy—maybe bi_shield?—took his phone, looked down at the screen, and smiled. "Yeah, that one's mine," he said with no evidence of embarrassment. "It was a good one." He handed the phone back to Bucky.

"I wrote it," Bucky croaked.

take a bite by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 7k words, Mature]

"I’d never let anyone freeze to death.” Steve gives a big sigh and flutters his lashes. “All that blood gone to waste.”

Bucky’s lips turn down and his nose scrunches up a little. “I want to be grossed out, but…”

“But you get it.” Steve gives him a pointed look. “Vampires aren’t the only ones who can appreciate how juicy blood is.”

*

Or: Vampire Steve saves newly-turned werewolf Bucky from a snowstorm.

Leaving the Shield Behind by BuckyAboveEverything [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

“So, on one hand, we have Steve Rogers - hunk, genius, animal lover. Buys you waffles and overpriced coffee. 100% wholesome all-American boy.”

“And, on the other hand, we have Capsicle – twink, smart-ass, fanboy. Reads your stories and sends you fanart. Possibly a pervert or a serial killer.”

Bucky groaned.

“I am 100% certain I am 0% sure of what to do."

Bucky Barnes, full-time copywriter and free-time fanfic writer, struggles to choose between two equally-attractive suitors, only to find that he doesn’t have to after all.

* Based on a true story *

Cap's Book Corner by Neche [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Recluse Author Bucky Barns stumbles into fanboy Steve Rogers bookstore one day...

Cat Nap by galwednesday @galwednesday [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Objectively, losing the Bucharest safehouse and its contents was the least of Bucky’s problems. The balding agent he’d seen directing the raid was apparently affiliated with SHIELD, which was a shadowy government agency that made representatives from other shadowy government agencies suddenly remember urgent appointments when Bucky tried to bribe, threaten, and otherwise shake them down for information on what the hell SHIELD might want with a former brainwashed assassin. Dodging SHIELD should be his number one priority.

Subjectively, he wanted his fucking cat back.

at any given moment by honeypuffed [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky find out that everyone thinks they're sleeping together.

Brought to Brightness by eyres [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Army veteran Bucky Barnes has fallen in love with Steve, a guy he met online a few months after he returned from Afghanistan. Only problem is, he doesn't know Steve's last name or even what he looks like.

When his sister helps him send his story into MTV's Catfish, he's hoping they can help him meet Steve or, at least, let him move on with his life if Steve isn't real. Little does he know, Steve and Captain America have more in common than just a first name.

🌻 Nokken Wood by leveragehunters @leveragehunters [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

When Sam's friend needs a house-sitter for his place in the country, Steve jumps at the chance. Six months rent-free to do nothing but draw and paint and wander the countryside, looking for inspiration? It was like a dream. But when he gets lost in a storm and nearly falls into a pond he starts to rethink the whole like a dream aspect of life in the country. And when a red-eyed, sharp-clawed, silver-fanged creature rises out of the darkness, Steve is one hundred percent certain the dream's morphed into a nightmare.

...until it gives him a cup of tea.

(Inspired partly by this prompt a supernatural creature is supposed to scare you but instead it gives you a cup of tea and a blanket because you're having a bad day and you keep coming back and partly by this painting.)

Professional Pride by galwednesday [Stucky, 700 words, Teen]

Bucky is having a very good day, until he turns around and finds himself face-to-face with Captain America.

“Oh shit,” he blurts before he can stop himself, and Captain America blinks at him. “Hey, hi, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Here, at New York’s Pride parade, surrounded by thousands of happy screaming people wearing rainbows and sometimes not much else. What is he doing here? Is he on guard duty or something? Was he just on a mission and happened to be passing by on his way back?

He’s in uniform but with the cowl loose around his neck, so when he rubs the back of his head it fluffs up his matted hair. “I, uh. I saw one of your–temporary tattoos?” Captain fucking America says, like it’s a question.

The A-bridged Guide to Trolling by galwednesday [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

“I don’t have any money.”

Oh no, now the girl looked upset. Her eyes were huge and her lip was wobbling. Bucky tried to think fast despite the oh shit oh shit oh shit looping through his head.

“That’s okay,” Bucky said gently. “I don’t need money. We can figure out another kind of toll.”

The girl frowned at him. “Like what?”

Bucky scratched his head, trying to think of something a kid was certain to have on hand. “Do you know any jokes?”

(Fantasy AU in which Steve is a hedge witch with a green thumb, Bucky is a bridge troll who's new in town, and knock-knock jokes are a viable form of currency.)

It's a bittersweet ending (if you know what I mean) by relenafanel [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

“I’ll see you around, Steve,” Bucky answers with a smirk, moving away from the counter with a wink.

Steve watches him go. Bucky’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans coated in something to give the appearance of leather. It’s impossible to not watch him go.

stuck on you by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

“Bucky? You don’t look so hot.”

Bucky makes a tiny little sound in the back of his throat, only to start coughing. Of course he doesn’t look hot. He’s sick and he’s dying and Steve obviously isn’t attracted to him.

Decision-Making in Relationships (Paid Research Opportunity!) by castiowl [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Clint looked thoughtfully at the flyer. “I guess your actual roommate wouldn’t be down with it?”

Bucky frowned. “Have you met Steve Rogers?”

no way out but through by hollimichele [Stucky, 9k words, Teen]

Steve never sees it coming.

you got blood on your hands (and i know it's mine) by nighimpossible [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Bucky refuses to see Steve after his deprogramming.

Like What You See by daisymondays [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

For all the time Bucky’s spent fantasizing about meeting Captain America, he’d never imagined it would be while posing nude in front of a drawing class.

🌻 A Real Boy by itsnotbleak [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat.

It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

Amapola by chaya [Stucky, 830 words, Teen]

Total fluff. Bucky's recovering nicely. Steve's oblivious. Sometimes it's best to set aside subtlety for action.

Knocking Boots With Sugar by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

In between summers at college, Steve Rogers wants a new adventure beyond his lonely life in Brooklyn. He ends up in West Texas working on a dude ranch where Bucky Barnes is a long-time employee. When Bucky offers to buy Steve a drink, they end up drunk on tequila and making out in public. For the rest of the summer, they're inseparable. As the summer draws to a close, Steve realizes he doesn't want to leave.

Rogers and Associate by roe87 @jro616 [Stucky, 7k words, Teen]

When they first meet, Bucky is a hooker and Steve is a cop. She's been arrested, but Steve lets her off.

Years pass and they maintain a casual friendship, seeing each other out on the streets most nights.

Though he later makes detective, Steve loses faith in the system and quits his job.

He wants to set up as a private investigator, and he asks Bucky if she'd be his assistant.

Just in time by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Bucky knew the apartment he was renting was old fashioned, but walking in the front door and finding himself transported back to 1938 was not on the list of things he had prepared himself for.

🌻 You Like What's in My Head by dontcallmebree [Stucky, 15k words, Explicit] (with art by @kocuria)

Bucky can’t decide if Steve’s a tough nut to crack or incredibly easy. The timbre of his voice, a low and almost amused, “Sure, kid,” when Bucky asks for a drink feels like something gripping him on the back of his neck.

He thinks this might be one of those moments in life he’ll pinpoint in the future and either curse at for dooming himself, or remember fondly with pride.

He’s right. Bucky Barnes blunders through falling in love with Commander Rogers and tries to find a deeper meaning behind the expensive gifts and thorough fucking.

Can I Sit Here? by BuckyFrickenBarnes [Stucky, 962 words, General]

Bucky has unusual methods for getting rid of his writer's block.

Or, Bucky needs that table.

Workplace Romance by BuckyFricken Barnes [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Bucky is under the impression that his boss hates him.

Or,

Steve needs to get better at dealing with his feelings.

🌻 1-800-MAYTAG by Miss Plum @misspluckyplum [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

Bucky just wants to get some housework done. It gets out of hand fast. Silly little fluff and smut romp with snarky stucky boys.

Eyes of the Forest by Lordelannette [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit] (2/8 chapters available)

When Omega Bucky Barnes comes to Eagle Lake, it was in search of wolves, a creature that had not been seen in the area for decades.

What he finds instead is Steve Rogers, a handsome, though quiet Alpha who seems to be everywhere in the forest.

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter One - Disclosure

A/N: This was supposed to be a Jax x Fem!OC fanfic, but it took a little turn as I started to write more of it. So, it’ll be Tig x Fem!OC, but Jax does play a very important role in this.

SUMMARY: A sick turn of events sees Isla Telford thrown in at the deep end, battling to govern the sudden pressures of all that her father's club decidedly bestow upon her.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of murder, the guy that got his ass shit is in this one. Jax and Tig get their own warnings, too, for obvious reasons.

The older I get, the more I realize that age doesn't bring wisdom. It only brings weary.

John Teller was always so astute.

His judicious character befell his son, too. Jax had that same perceptive nature as his old man--everyone would comment on that.

To Isla, it was admirable. For Jackson Teller to be a man of such stature--to hold such a reputation--and to remain somewhat level-headed through it all, was only something she could commend.

She'd seen many of her father's friends crumble under the pressure of Samcro, unable to balance the weight of living with the responsibility and commitment to the club, and meet their unfortunate demise--in some not-so extreme cases.

But Jax was different. He'd always been different.

Maybe that wasn't so great, however.

"You're fucking insane, Isla."

"Not insane." She mumbled, sifting through the box of shitty medical supplies that Gemma had left atop the pool table last night.

"Just trying to patch this shit up so Hayes doesn't kick the fucking bucket before Jax gets back here."

Tig snarled. "But it might be infected, and the bullet is still in this dude's ass--"

Isla whipped her head to glare at the man, her eyes wide, forehead slick with sweat--and a little blood, too.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Isla--"

"Tig, with all due respect, unless you're gonna help, please get the fuck outta here."

"That's not gonna suffice," he pointed out, referring to the medical tape, ignoring her scolding.

She wanted to throttle him. Truly, Isla was willing to wrap her crimson-coated fingertips around Tig's neck and squeeze the absolute life out of that man.

"I know." Her lips kneaded together in frustration, watching her father dab an alcohol-infused pad on the wound. "But unless you've got any better ideas, then we're just gonna have to keep reapplying this shit."

"But the infection, Isla."

"But the lack of medical equipment, Tig."

He slapped his palm against the table and glared at her, pointedly. "Why've you gotta be such a bitch all the time, huh?"

"Watch it, Trager." Piqued, Chibs growled.

"I'm not a bitch all the time," she dismissed her father, wiping at her palm with a wet rag. "I'm actually able to control the way I act around other people."

"Oh, fuck you--"

"Christ!"

The Scot's yell was muffled by the cap of his whiskey bottle, his hand pressing against Cameron's skin as the man screamed into the cloth Isla had placed underneath his head.

"God, for fucks sake, both of you just pack it in."

"Chibs--"

"Shut the fuck up. You're a fucking geriatric and you're spending your morning bickering with an almost thirty-year-old. Grow up, Tig."

Despite laughing at his comment, and enjoying the irritation wash over the other man's face, she felt bad.

For riling her father up--who was simply trying to help the innocent Irishman caught in the literal crossfire--she felt fucking awful. Especially because he never seemed to get mad at her all too often.

Tig, though...That was a different story entirely.

"I'm gonna go see if Clay has any more shit lying 'round here." She declared, throwing a damp towel onto the table, backing out of the room.

Her heart was in her throat, stomach in damn knots. Isla wasn't confident that Cameron was going to make it--not with such a deep wound.

And in his ass, too? Jesus. She wasn't confident at all.

Of course, she'd seen men get shot. Her own father, for one. But she hadn't seen somebody have to go so long without actual medical attention.

Chibs was ex-army med, but there was only so much a man could've done with a bottle of liquor, gauze, and a towel.

She was relieved that the bullet hit Cameron and not Clay, though. As sick as it sounded, she was so fucking glad that he'd managed to dodge the line of fire--initially intended for his own skull--and come out completely unscathed.

But for every ounce of relief she'd felt, an even more fervid sense of anger prevailed at the thought of Jax taking so damn long with those medical supplies he'd sought to get last night.

Gemma mentioned something about heading to the hospital--or a friend's house, or something--but Isla wasn't paying any mind to the woman as she, and Chibs, were trying all ways to stop the bleeding coming from Cameron's ass cheek.

It was the most bizarre turn of events she'd ever experienced.

One minute, Isla was sipping on a glass of wine while she eagerly awaited the spirited ping of her tiny microwave oven, ready to spend a rare--though well fucking deserved--night alone.

However, things took a drastic turn when she received a call from Tig--on behalf of a very busy Chibs--casually requesting her assistance because the Mayans had tried to assassinate Clay.

But Tig failed to mention that the man was completely fine.

She'd spent fifteen minutes on the way over mentally preparing herself, wondering what hell she'd walk into when she set foot into the clubhouse. But it was normal--strangely so.

Isla wasn't a professional, she didn't exactly know how to handle such a trauma, but she trusted her father and she just wanted to make sure he had a helping hand.

God knows that Tig wouldn't have been very much use, and Juice was a little nervous--though, he was doing incredibly well throughout the ordeal regardless of his internal apprehension.

"How's it looking?" Gemma threw at Isla, getting to her feet.

"Bloody."

She quickly scanned the room, taking in the uncomfortably sparse bar. It wasn't usually so empty, so quiet.

Clay, Gemma, and Juice. That was it. Not even Piney--not even Epps.

"Is he doing okay?"

It was still early in the day, though. She guessed that they'd pop in once they properly came around.

"He's better than he was last night." The brunette nodded. "Dad is certain the laceration is gonna get infected if we leave it any longer without trying to get the bullet out--"

"You've gotta wait 'til Jax gets back here, Isla, we can't risk Hayes dying on us."

"I know, Clay. He's just fucking tired--he's been up all night. We need a real medic on the scene before something bad happens. It's only a matter of time."

He mumbled something to himself that only Gemma seemed to catch, but Isla didn't particularly give a damn at that point. Like Chibs, she was exhausted.

The tattered and torn plaid shirt she had thrown over a random tank top--now smeared with another man's blood--was wrenched between her fingers as she pulled it off, folding it not-so-neatly.

She hadn't dealt with such a bloody wound in a while. Not since her mother's palm, decorated with shards of glass, was in dire need of stitches and her father was across the country, unable to offer his medical assistance.

"I'll grab one of Jax's shirts for you--"

"No, Gemma, it's okay," she smiled, taking a seat on one of the couches opposite her.

The older woman pinched her eyebrows together skeptically, watching Isla shift. "I insist."

"It's fine." Isla was adamant. "I'm gonna head home as soon as Jax gets back here--if he gets back here--so, really, it's fine."

A minimal amount of already dried blood was spread over her wrists and fingers, and the excess had been rubbed off on her crimson flannel, so she didn't particularly feel bad about making any mess.

Though, she shouldn't have felt bad. Not after she'd been coerced into helping and eventually receiving that shitty reception from Tig.

"Aren't you cold?" She questioned, waiting for Isla to capitulate, but she never did.

The thought of wearing one of Jax's shirts--after it being given to her by his fucking mother--didn't sit right with her for some reason. Plus, she didn't particularly feel like walking out of that building wearing the damn reaper on her back.

She didn't want to flaunt their patch. Not any more than she already had been for the last ten years.

"Where the fuck is he?"

Clay glared at the clock on the wall, realizing they'd been without the Vice President for hours. In an attempt to put him at ease, Gemma ran a hand along his shoulder.

Isla could only watch them--admire, perhaps.

"He told us he was gonna swing by Tara's place for the equipment. But that was last night, man." Juice shrugged, circling the lip of his beer bottle with his thumb.

She felt her throat thicken with a sick sense of trepidation. She hadn't heard that name in years.

"Tara?" She stuttered, feeling Gemma's piercing glare.

The woman hated Jax's first love, though she never said it aloud. Isla knew her perception of her, however, and she'd started to feel the exact same as the years went on.

Bitch.

"Yeah, y'know, Tara Knowles--"

Her heart sank--fuck that, it dove straight to the deep caverns of her chest, throbbing away into nothing. Until she felt completely void of all emotion. Completely fucking numb.

"I know her, Juice." Her response came hastily, snappy. "I'm sorry. I just didn't expect you to say that."

He shrugged it off. "It's alright. I wasn't expecting her to be back in town, either. I thought you already knew."

Suddenly uncomfortable, Isla's head shook.

The crow situated at the bottom of her spine began to smolder, blistering away at her skin until she physically flinched.

It was a brilliant idea at the time, getting a matching tattoo with Jax's old lady--the one woman she truly adored and trusted, never once feeling an ounce of malice toward.

Because that was a rare thing for Isla, and she wanted their friendship--and relation to Samcro--to prevail for eternity, she supposed.

But as time went on and Tara decided to distance, and eventually alienate, herself from the club, an ample sense of regret persisted for fucking months.

Isla loathed her ink. She hated the negative connotation of the crow she once lauded, and the mere idea of that thing being slapped above her ass forever churned her stomach.

It wasn't one of her finest moments, she had to admit. But she was young and extremely fucking dumb. She'd bet top dollar that Tara felt the same--if she hadn't gotten the crow covered up already.

"Jesus, Jax, where were you?!"

Her eyes flicked upward, attention on the blonde as he sauntered across the wooden floor of the bar.

She hadn't even noticed his presence until Clay spoke, but she soon started to heed how Jax was trembling a bit with every step that he took.

It wasn't obvious. To most people, the slight shake of his wrist would've gone completely unnoticed. But to Isla--to the most observant woman in Charming--his discomfort was striking.

Jax ignored him, stomping his way toward the back room. His line of sight never satisfied Isla's. It didn't even come close to it, either.

Something had happened. It was obvious that, in the time he had been with Tara, he'd encountered something grizzly enough to chill him to the bone.

Which was saying something, what with the horrific shit that he'd already seen in his time.

"Jax!" Clay yelled, following closely behind him. "Hey, asshole, where the fuck did you put the bag--"

"I've got it."

If she had the option, Isla would've allowed the floor to swallow her fucking whole.

"Tara." Pissed, Gemma acknowledged. "You're here because?"

"I asked her to help, mom."

"But Chibs had it covered. He just needed some actual instruments--"

"Gemma, quit it."

She simply nodded at her son, not wanting to cause another problem that she'd have to fix later--which, honestly, Isla was shocked to see.

"He's in there--"

"I know." Jax cut her short, ushering Tara to the back of the clubhouse--striving to get her into the room before she heeded Isla.

But she did.

The first person she clocked--aside from Clay--was Isla Telford, the woman she had purposely alienated herself from ten fucking years ago.

It wasn't anything that she'd particularly done to Tara, more like the crowd she ran with--and the way her loyalties never seemed to lay very closely to her friends, or anything outside of the club.

Isla wasn't a part of Samcro--she didn't want to be a part of Samcro--but her coalition was strong enough to convince anybody that she was more than merely a daughter of a Sgt. at Arms.

She had been brought up around the Sons--her father's choice, of course--and when her mother passed, she had no choice but to dive a little bit deeper into that world. But, as expected, it was constantly under the watchful eye of her old man.

She was dedicated to them. They were, essentially, family, and she was an honorary member.

"Isla." Jax mumbled, nodding his head toward the entrance of the clubhouse as he closed the back-door. "Outside."

He pulled a carton of cigarettes out of his leather vest, shaking the box as he strived to seem a little less suspicious to Clay and his mother.

The blonde wobbled to her feet--knees weak after hours of standing--while simultaneously pulling her bloodied flannel back onto svelte, freckled arms, recognizing that the chill was to hit her the second she stepped onto the gravel.

Jax was casual while he strutted ahead, taking long strides that Isla found fucking impossible to keep up with.

He pushed the door to close behind her, offering a cigarette that she hastily declined.

"What's she doing here?" Was how she decided to break the silence, her eyes searching for a hint of something written on his face.

But there was nothing. Not an ounce of emotion--scarily so.

"She's fixing Cameron up--"

"Not at the clubhouse, Jax. I meant back in Charming."

He ran a thumb across his lower lip, trying to soften his gaze on Isla, but it was futile. He looked discomposed--unsettled.

"She's uh--she's workin' at the hospital now." She started to nod, waiting for his elaboration. It never came, however.

"Oh, that's nice. I wonder what happened in Chicago...Do you know why she's back here? Or how long she's gonna be staying in town--"

"You sound like my fucking mother--give it a break with the thirty-seven questions about Tara, damnit."

He snarled, heeding the distaste of his words the second she glowered at him.

"Excuse you?"

"I didn't call you out here for a sweet little conversation, Isla, I called you 'cause I need your help--"

"With what?"

Jax's hand hooked onto the back of his neck while he tilted his head to look upward, thinking of a way--any fucking way--to explain just what damn mess he'd found himself entwined with over the course of the last twenty-four hours.

He didn't know what to say or how to say it--if he should've fucking said it. He trusted Isla with his life--always had--but sometimes he appreciated that she mightn't have appreciated finding herself tangled within Jax's boisterous, at times frightening, life.

But it was too late for that. She'd been dragged through the deepest shit and wasn't crumbling that easily.

"Jax--"

"Kohn." He stated simply, waiting for the cogs of her brain to begin turning.

"What about him? You got in trouble with the ATF or something? Because we can handle that--"

"I already did." Jax laughed humorlessly, finally meeting Isla's line of sight.

The skin underneath his eyes was red raw, blotchy and irritated after he had used the sleeve of his hoodie to scrub away the tears he'd shed.

The tears he hadn't wanted to shed, but had fallen freely--uncontrollably--from those cerulean hues Isla never tired of looking at.

"What do you mean by that?" Nervously, she quizzed.

He didn't even have to say anything. She fucking knew. She knew exactly what he meant by that, but there was a tiny morsel of something within her that hoped and prayed that he'd declare that her gut feeling was wrong.

But he couldn't. Because it was right. Like always, Isla's intuition didn't fail her.

"Jax, honey, what did you do--"

"I killed Kohn."

[sideofmango]

Can you do HCs of Shinsou, Amajiki, Bakugo; teen!Aizawa with a South African s/o who has people saying some annoying comments to her just bc she's from Africa. Like someone says that they're sorry that she struggled with poverty (girl is from a super wealthy family that can buy their family), or say some gibberish with clicks and asks her to translate (s/o can speak five languages: English, Zulu, Xhosa, Afrikaans, and Japanese; understand others. Xhosa has clicks). They ask her if she had...

cont’d request: Pt.II - to hunt for her food (Umm, no. Cape Town has supermarkets and she knows what pizza and Japanese food is, guys). Someone just can't believe that South Africa has TV and internet, while s/o literally has a cell phone with all of the social media and has friends/family from South Africa. When class is over, someone asks why isn't she wearing "African" clothes (bc Africa is country, not a continent) when s/o is just wearing basic clothes. People be stupid.

“Don’t Be Stupid” - Headcannon for Shinsou, Tamaki, Bakugou, and teen!Aizawa

Hey! Thanks for requesting! Hope this is okay :)

Pairings: Shinsou, Tamaki, Bakugou, teen!Aizawa x reader Pronouns: she/her Warnings: ignorance, cursing

Hitoshi didn’t really give a flying fuck about what others thought, mainly because most of the time people didn’t even want to be around him because of his “villain quirk”

But just because he didn’t care what they thought about him, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t fuck somebody up if they messed with you

Shinsou is a quiet guy for the most part, but he was super perceptive

So when he heard that the little ballsack haired toddler from class 1-A was spreading rumors about you, he was angry

You had no problem explaining to people about your home country of South Africa, especially if they asked nicely

But one day when you were walking past Class 1-A when school had just ended, intent on meeting your boyfriend outside to go walk to the park together, you heard Mineta spewing shit about you and South Africa

“Yeah they’re a bunch of savages over there! They literally hunt for food with spears and everyone is poor and they use goats as money.” Mineta said

You stood by the door to see what they were going to say before you chimed in and told them what South Africa was actually like.

“Mineta that’s literally cap and you know it.” Kaminari chimed in with a roll of his eyes. 

He had been spending so much time around you and Shinsou that he started even using your slang unconsciously.

It made you smile a bit.

“Kaminari you’re dumb as rocks. How would you know?” Mineta defended himself.

“Anyways, apparently because they’re so poor they steal a lot too. Maybe that’s why my jacket went missing after I was around (y/n)...Like I said they’re a bunch of savages, she probably doesn’t know any better.” 

Now it was time for you to chime in. 

“Why the fuck would I want your ratty ass jacket anyway? I don’t steal and that’s not what South Africa is like. Denki knows because I told him about it. I’m not poor, I just don’t flaunt my wealth, and if you really want to know I could buy your entire family with my own net worth.” You remarked, crossing your arms over your chest with a huff.

Bakugou sat in the corner watching the whole exchange with a small smirk on his face...he enjoyed confrontation too much.

“Oh and we do have supermarkets where we buy our food from.” You add as an after thought. “If you wanted to know about South Africa, you should’ve just asked like a normal person instead of spewing shit. Have a nice day.” You left the classroom after that a smile growing on your face as you heard Kaminari and Kirishima scold Mineta for talking shit behind your back.

Yeah...that was the last time he did that because after Shinsou heard what happened he found Mineta the next day and threatened him so bad he peed his diaper.

Tamaki was a pretty reserved guy and when you two began dating it surprised mostly everyone because you two were so different

Honestly, Tamaki literally looked at you like a goddess and it annoyed him when people were just plain ignorant

Usually when he was annoyed he would rant to you about it or Mirio or Nejire, and then he would go sit in a corner blushing about how he feared he was oversharing

PLS HE’S SO CUTE

um...N E WAYS...

You had been a transfer into the class when they were second years after your father decided to expand his international company to Japan, meaning you had to leave your home in South Africa

You were upset at first but you quickly made friends with the Big Three and Leonardo Subarashi, who was also from South Africa. 

So it came as a surprise when one of your friends, Tsuki Vinsmoke started talking shit about your homeland even when two of her friends were from there

“They literally live in huts with dirt floors. Maybe that’s why they’re so dirty and poor.” Tsuki laughed with two of her bitch friends, standing right near you

You turned to look at her with a frown on your face, practically daring her to say something else.

“I don’t even know how those two got here. They don’t even have phone service over there.”

“Hey (y/n)?” She said a little louder, as you turned around again, placing your pencil down and momentarily ignoring your school work.

“What Tsuki?”

“Why don’t you wear African clothes? Like those weird scarves and cloths or whatever? Are you ashamed that you came from dirt poor people? I would be.” Tsuki wore a nasty smile on her face as her eyes seemed to sparkle with malice.

“There’s no such thing as African clothes Tsuki. People wear the same clothes here that they do in South Africa...why would I be ashamed of such a culturally rich homeland? I’m proud to be South African, and besides I’d suggest you do some research before you start talking to me about being poor, especially since I’m way richer than you.” You gave a fake sincere smile before glancing over at Tamaki and your friends who gave you a thumbs up as if to say Destroy her.

So you did...in the end you got sent to Principal Nezu’s office after you made her cry and she lied to your teacher saying you had threatened her life like a dirty savage

Tamaki had to hold you back with some help from Mirio before you decked her

Nezu didn’t really care and gave you a donut from the order that had been in his office before sending you back to class

Needless to say, Tsuki got suspended for being racist and perpetuating a hateful environment in the classroom and nobody else messed with you, not even her little friends who sucked up to you after Tsuki went on suspension.

Why would anyone even bother saying stupid shit about you when you were just as hot headed as your explosive boyfriend? I don’t know, but they did

Of course everyone from class 1-A was smart enough not to start anything, but it seems Monoma wasn’t as smart

The annoying overly entitled blonde from class 1-B, had started out by asking you simple questions about your homeland, things like:

“What’s it like there?”, “Is it always sunny?”, “Have you seen a rhino or lion before?”

Then they started getting kind of ignorant and annoying.

“Hey (y/n)? Can you speak African?”

“No Monoma because Africa is a continent made up of many countries, each with their own languages.” You explained, wasn’t he supposed to be smart? “What are you doing Monoma?” You asked, with a raised eyebrow as he started to make strange noises at you.

“Shit for Brains, leave us the fuck alone.” Bakugou grumbled from beside you after he finished chewing his food. 

“It’s you language right? Can you understand what I said?”

“No dumbfuck. You sounded like a dolphin.” You remarked as a few of your friends laughed lightly. 

“I’m surprised you understand...I heard your people aren’t very smart...you know products of their environment, it’s unfortunate really. I’m sorry that you lived in such poverty, but you should consider yourself lucky, now you get to live in dorms and sleep in a real bed and not on a dirt floor.” Monoma went on and on and you were growing increasingly annoyed as you friends sat there in shocked silence.

“You know what Monoma?” You said with a fake smile as you spun around. “I’ve never met anyone as ignorant and stupid as you. I’m not poor and I never was, I slept in a real bed with an actually comfortable mattress unlike the ones here, and I much smarter than you ever will be I speak five fucking languages and I can understand more than that in others. Would you like me to tell you to fuck off in another language since you can’t seem to understand Japanese?” You asked as you raised your eyebrows with your arms crossed over your chest, as if waiting for his answer. 

He stayed silent. 

“That’s what I thought. Maybe you are smart after all?” You added teasingly, watching him be dragged back to his table by Kendo.

Shota Aizawa never really had many friends, usually more laidback than others were comfortable with, but the ones he did have were the complete opposites of him

Hizashi and Shirakumo were loud pranksters, while you and Midnight were talkative and enjoyed messing with him.

Most of the time he ignored the pigheaded bully that was Sensoji, because he usually only picked on Shota, but when Sensoji realized that you were Aizawa’s real weakness, he started to hound you.

And Shota was NOT having that

It all came to a head after he battled against Shota during a training session.

“Your useless just like your quirk Aizawa.” Sensoji sneered at your boyfriend, glaring down at him. 

“Your nothing but a waste of space.” Sensoji added seeing the way that his insults didn’t really phase Shota.

“Hey leave him alone! What is wrong with you!” You intervened pushing the broad shouldered boy away from Shota.

“What are you that weak that you need your little safari ass backwoods girlfriend to save your ass?” Sensoji laughed along with one of his equally stupid Class 1-B classmates.

“Don’t fucking talk about her!” Shota yelled back, his eyes glowing as if it was a warning.

“Or what? It’s not like she’ll understand? People like her back in her country of Africa are stupid as fuck. They build their homes out of oversized tin cans and they don’t even have phones.” 

“Sensoji you’re the stupid one! Africa is... A CONTINENT NOT A COUNTRY!” Hizashi jumped in, activating his quirk halfway through his sentence.

“And they don’t live in tin cans.” Midnight added.

“I live in a nice home, one that’s probably bigger than yours. Just admit that you’re jealous of Shota and me and move on!” You pressed your finger into his chest on each word, glaring at him as if to say say something else and see what happens.

“Grow up!” Shota and Shirakumo added before Sensoji rushed away when he saw the teachers coming over to see what you all were arguing about.

“Yeah that’s what I thought! Run away like a little bitch!” You added with a growing smile.

“Language (y/n)!” Your teacher scolded, but even that couldn’t bring down your smile as you, your boyfriend, and your friends laughed about the incident.

You all still even joked about it years later.

TAGS:

[specialmindz]

“Mmm *POMP!* this some good milk, Snas,” said Papyrus, shuffling around in his brother’s makeshift backpack. It wasn’t very comfortable, but as long as he didn’t have to crawl…

“eh, i prefer hot chocolate myself,” replied Sans. “glad you like your milk baby bro, i was worried about how it’d do in the microwave cause’ of all the chemicals, but you’re not dead yet so…”

“Daddy say is okay to put mah super milk in da’ mikeywave…or is I baby guinea pig?” Papyrus narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“guinea pigs are cute pap!”

“…”

Sans blew on his hot chocolate for what seemed like the sixth time. He didn’t put his drink in the microwave like Papyrus’s, he preferred to use boiled water as the cold weather of Snowdin usually cooled it off without him having to do anything.

Today though, they weren’t going to Snowdin, plans had changed.

Alphys had always had a messy workspace, but the Nursery, according to her, was in worse shape. FAR worse shape. She didn’t mind the broken toys scattered everywhere seeing as it wasn’t her room, but the fact that the toys came from the Dump meant they smelled terrible. Sans and the rest of the family were either nose-blind to it, or simply didn’t care, but Alphys couldn’t stand it. She complained weekly about the stench, claiming it was getting worse and worse, seeping from underneath the Nursery door and distracting her from work, but no one would do anything about it.

Today, SHE took the initiative and decided to spray the Nursery with every air freshener they had, making it impossible and even dangerous to sleep in the room; that meant that not only did they have to find a new place to sleep, but Baby Papyrus also missed his nap.

Not good.      

“You an idiot,” mumbled the cranky infant, unhappy to be a baby guinea pig.

“whatever.”

“Lazy idiot stink head with stupid broke gloves…”

“heh ha! they’re not broke pappy, that’s how they’re SUPPOSED to look. these are fingerless gloves,” explained Sans, hoping to laugh away his irritation. Papyrus wasn’t having it though.

“Your gloves dumb like you.”

“they’re not dumb! i think they make me look cool…”

“They make you look homeless. I half aspect you to be shaking a tin can around, asking for monies.”

“Screw you, Papyrus.”

“Is I your bindle, big Buther? You’s supposed to carry me on a stick…”

“SHUT UP, PAPYRUS.”

“Can you do da’ har-mon-ica? Pay a song for the baby.”

The young comedian quickened his pace towards the Resort Area. “i’ll pay you a beating, you keep mouthing off,” mumbled Sans under his breath.  

“Ooooh, Buther think he tough now cause’ he gots biker gloves! Nyeh heh heh, what gang you from, Snas? Pussies of Anarchy? Renegade Rejects?”

San didn’t reply, he merely pushed open the doors of the Resort and went inside, not wanting to travel all the way to Snowdin’s hotel or teleport whilst carrying his brother in a bag rather than his arms. He knew for a fact that anything touching his body would travel with him, but what about the things that weren’t? Or the things he wasn’t holding on to purposely?

It’s not like I’ve ever lost anything in my pockets when I take my shortcuts, but I still don’t feel comfortable with something so precious in such a flimsy bag…

“Harlem’s Asshats?”

Hm…maybe “precious” isn’t the right word to use for Pap.  

Sans grimaced as Papyrus continued to complain and come up with more insulting gang names. He himself was a complainer when HE didn’t get enough sleep, but Papyrus?

“Big-butted Bums of Bloomington!”

His brother REALLY sucked when he missed his nap. He was loud, angry, and mean. Babies weren’t supposed to miss their daily naps and baby bones already had hot tempers to begin with…

TA-TAP, TA-TAP!

The Receptionist, a monster with a giant hand in place of her head, tapped her red painted nails on the counter impatiently, a strange sight for those who weren’t used to seeing it. “Do you need a room you two?”

TA-TAP, TA-TAP!

“No, I needs a doctor cause’ Snas give me irradiated milk!” Papyrus tried to point his finger accusingly at his brother, but found it next to impossible in his current position, so instead he threw his bottle on the ground.

“NYEH!”

CAP, CAP!

It bounced along the tile floor, empty despite his whining, and rolled to a stop before a janitor, who kindly picked it up. “Ah-hawww, looks like you’ve got a fussy baby on your hands!” chuckled the employee, returning the bottle.

CAP, CAP, CAP!

“HAHAHAHA!”

“PAPYRUS! i’m so sorry sir-”

“Oh, don’t be, it’s what I get paid for after all! It’s best you get that little guy to bed though…”

“NOT TIRED!”

Sans took the bottle from the janitor and put it in his pocket. Even if his brother were telling the truth, he knew the Lying Font was still going to ACT tired, and a tired baby was a cranky baby. For Papyrus, a missed nap was all the excuse in the world to be a douche, and Sans would rather fork over 400g then listen to his crap.

Lucky for us, children get discounts.

TA-TAP, TA-TAP!

“STOP HEADBUTTING DA’ TABLE NAIL LADY! IF AZZY NOT ALLOWED TO, YOU NOT ALLOWED TO!”

“E-excuse me?”

“just ignore him, miss-”

“When Azzy be small like me, he used to headbutt the desk. You not remember Nail-Lady? You was all like, ‘STOP ATTACKING THE DESK GOAT-BABY!’ and Moo-Mom say, ‘HOW DARE YOU YELL AT MAH BABY LIKE DAT!?’ and then Fluffy Buns say ‘settle down now ladies, is not that serious,” said Papyrus, voice acting each line. He’d been doing that a lot as of late, trying to “perfect his mimicry for when he got big” and by extension, he ended up disturbing those unfortunate enough to hear him. Asgore’s loud booming voice coming from such a small baby was…eerie…and it was even worse when he decided to imitate Sans...

The receptionist doesn’t have a face, but I bet she’s as uncomfortable as I am right now.

…

…

How do I get bro to stop talking though?

“…Then you got all mad Nail-Lady and say ‘HE DO DIS ERYTIME HE HERE! WHY YOU CAN’T CONTROL YO’ KID? ERYBODY ELSE CONTROL THEIR KID! YOU THINK JUST CAUSE’ YOU THE KING YOU CAN DESTROY? NOT ERYBODY WICH LIKE YOU!”

“…I actually DO remember,” said the receptionist. “Someone, who used to do that. Yes…there was a small child with an entitled mother who used to headbutt and jump atop the furniture…”

Who was that?

“Yep! I’s there too with Chara, so I knows! You and the Moo Lady used to argue about discounts-”

“Oh my goodness, you’re right!” the woman suddenly remembered. “There was a woman who claimed she should only have to pay the regular 400g because you weren’t her child and THEN she got upset when I AGREED and asked you for 200g-”

“HOW YOU GONNA ASK A BABY FOR MONIES? BABIES SHOULD GET IN FREE! YOU DOESN’T EVEN GOTS CWIBS!”  

“That’s EXACTLY how it went, every single time. It was always the same argument.” The monster, who prided herself on her professionalism, could feel herself getting angry all over again, her old forgotten hatred bubbling to the surface. She couldn’t stand the Royal Family. The Entitled Mother, the Spinless Husband, the Destructive Child…and if she recalled, the human they adopted was an actual thief…

“Yep, and Chara was all like ‘don’t be a bitch, bitch’ and da’ Cow Lady say ‘I agwees, but I doesn’t ah-pea-ciate yo’ language my child,’ and Chara go ‘I was talking to youuuu-”

“hey pap-”

“Fluffy Buns smacked them right on the butt! It was funny.”

“Yes…Chara was their name…the thieving human who kept getting in trouble with security. They would go into other people’s rooms and take their things like it was okay and the mother-”

“She say, ‘Oh Chara just curious, you should be more patient wit yo’ customers! Da’ world of monsters be new to them ya’ know? They just a child…!”

“…”

Sans didn’t know how she was doing it, but he could have sworn he heard growling coming from the woman’s direction.

“ha ha…hey uh, bro? let’s just get us a room already, yeah? i’m sure the receptionist here is busy-”

“TWO WOOMS PEAS!” yelled the infant. “One for the baby and one for the Pussy of Anarchy.”

“damnit pap…!”

“Very well, that’ll be 400g then.”

Glaring over his shoulder, Sans forked over the money and headed to their room. “now bro, there are other people in this resort so try not to be a dick, alright? we need to be quiet-”

“WAIT SNAS!” the baby bones picked himself up out of the bag with his wingdings. “I gots to visit the fountain real quick.”

“Oh uh, please don’t urinate in the fountain,” said the receptionist raising a finger. “The rooms have toilets in them.”

“I’s not a gross peepee-baby Nail-Lady, don’t you know a cute widdle skelly when you sees one? I’s looking for coins-”

“Absolutely not!” cried the woman, her tone taking a sudden turn. “This fountain is a memorial to…someone. It is strictly forbidden to gather the coins within, read the sign!” The monster pointed at a sign that said “Stay Out of the Fountain.” Apparently, people were so desperate, they were stealing G from the memorial…

“I NEEDS EM’ TO PAY SNAS BACK!” yelled Papyrus, wondering how much 200g was.

“READ. THE. SIGN. THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE!” she replied, shouting just as loud. Clearly theft was a daily problem for her.

“heh heh, you don’t need to pay me back lil’ bro, thanks though.”

That was…unexpectedly sweet.

“I’s not a deadbeat big Buther…also, I can’t reads so dat sign don’t apply to me.”

“THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS!”

“you do too know how to read, quit your lying pap,” said Sans chuckling.

“I’s not lying, I’s a baby and babies don’t read. Erybody knows that! Isn’t that right Nail- Lady?”

“I just told you what it said, get away from that fountain!”

“Babies also have poor memor-ies. I doesn’t remember what you said,” Papyrus used his wingdings to scoop up a handful of coins and deposited them into his onesie to count later. “I’s very sorry for da’ inco-venience.”

“PUT THOSE BACK OR I’LL HAVE TO ASK YOU TWO TO LEAVE!”

“uh, okay pappy this is getting serious, let’s just put the pretty coins back like the nice lady said…”

“Is serious? THEN WE SERIOUSLY WANT OUR MONIES BACK,” said Papyrus, angrily. Here he was being a good bae, paying back his big brother, (something babies did NOT have to do) and this big person wanted to yell at him?

CLEARLY, she was a baby-hater and didn’t deserve to have such cute guests staying at her gaudy hotel.

“We take back our monies and we go somewhere that ah-pea-ciates sweet babies such as ourselves. Your hotel ugly anyway…too bright, right Snas? We leave.”

“no no no, we don’t need to do that!” said Sans quickly in a panic.

“FINE, TAKE IT AND GO!”

WHAP!

The receptionist slammed the money down on the counter.

I’m so sick of serving thieves…

“wha-ho, lady! let’s just calm down alright? *sigh* geeze…” Sans scratched behind his skull. “why don’t we come to a compromise? that sound good?”

I CAN’T take Pappy to that inn in Snowdin again, I didn’t sleep at all last time!

The comedian winced, remembering the night he spent there with Papyrus. The infant didn’t like the snoring from the other guests in the room.

“Nyeh? Com-per-mize…? Waz dat?”

“it’s a negotiation,” explained Sans. “where arguing people get a little bit of what they want, so everyone’s happy…ish.”

TA-TAP! TA-TAP!

“Okay Snas, I do da’ com-per-mize cause’ I’s a good bae,” said Papyrus sweetly. Seemed he was done acting cranky for the day…or so Sans hoped.

“good boy, pappy! GOOD babies compromise allll the time.”

“No they don’t, but Imma make an ah-ception cause’ I doesn’t like the snoring baes in Snowdin. Remember them Snas? The snoring bunny baes?”

“heh heh, yep, iiiii remember.”

“You can’t tell a sweepy baby to shut the fuk up, cause’ they just babies, so we get no sweep and the Inn lady get all our monies for fee! Is a scam, I KNOWS it!”

“Put the coins back please,” said the receptionist, no longer interested in Papyrus’s stories.

“Kay’. Papyrus picked himself up out of the fountain and waddled over to the counter, his onesie jiggling with coins and leaving a wet trail behind him. I gots a good idea for a com-per-mize Nail-Lady.”

“I thought you were going to put the coins back?”

“Slow yo’ roll woman, we makes a commerize first-”

“compromise’ bro.”

Papyrus ignored him. “I’ll put the coins back like you say…and in return for being a good baby bones, I gets a fee room, kay’? Dat sound like a good commercialize?”  

“…No.”

“*pfft!* papyrus-”

“Why not Nail-Lady? It solve both our problems, yes? Why you so unreason-able?”

The receptionist sighed and hung her head, her energy for the day having been completely drained.

I forgot how terrible this infant was, all he does is talk and make things worse. Why is he even here? Doesn’t he have a mother and father to go home to?

Ugh, he’s still going...

“…Good babies get rewards Nail-Lady, is the law. Dat’s how we learns to be good people’s ya’ know? I do something good…then I gets a reward, then I be good again to get another reward. You see where I’s going with dis?”

“There’s a difference between a reward and a bribe, child-”

“I’s not a child, I’s a baby! How you gonna learn if you no listen? BIG people’s get bribes, BABIES get rewards-”

“bro, stop, it’s okay,” said Sans picking up his brother. “i’ll pay your way and if you really want to return the debt, you can pay me back with your OWN mon-”

“Except ugly babies like Snas, they get nothing.”

“…you know what? nevermind, you can sleep out here like the bum you’re destined to be." He put Papyrus back down.

“I can join your gang…?”

“no, we’re full.”

“Bums of Bloomington full?”

“yyyep.”

“Kick someone out.”

CA-CLACK!

The receptionist pressed the security button underneath her desk.

“why should i? you don’t have biker gloves and you’re mean.”

“Baby not mean! Also, I’s family and family comes first. Kick someone out.”

“no.”

CLANK, CLANK, CLANK!

The two boys stopped fighting and grew silent as a giant knight in black armor approached the counter.

“*Yawn* ………Is there a problem ma’am?”

“Yes, there is,” replied the receptionist. “That baby is stealing from the fountain…and apparently the other one is in a gang-”

“what? no i’m not! papyrus is lying!”

“Nope, is true all right. My big Buther a rebel! He drive his motorcycle around at night when is bedtime.”

“no i don’t, shut up papyrus!”

“……...Is this true?”

Sans gave the knight an irritated look, “why don’t you tell me? why don’t you tell me where i can ride a motorbike without filling the underground with carbon dioxide? why don’t you tell me where i can get one whose pedals i can even reach? where i can get one PERIOD-”    

“……...You don’t need to be a smartass.”

“…”

“………Please return the coins.”

“…”

“Why you gots so many ellipses in yo’ text Knight-Lady? You sweepy too?” The baby bones crawled over to the sleepy giant and gave her the coins in his onesie. “Here you go Heavy-Lady, now you can affords to sweep like us!”

“that’s very sweet, pappy-”

Papyrus turned to the receptionist, “NOW baby gets a fee room?”

“*sigh*”

Damnit bro…

“…No.”

“Nyeh? Why not? I WAS GOOD, GOD DAMNS IT!”

“Get out.”  

“NYEHHHHAAAAHHHH!!”

“papyrus, you don’t need to scream-”

KA-CHUR-GERGERGER!

Taking out a coin pouch, the knight poured some G onto the receptionist’s counter, “…400g right?”

“You don’t have to do that Knight Knight-”

“Yes, I do,” replied the armored monster, handing over the coins Papyrus gave her. “It’s a knight’s duty to help those in need…and we live in times where money is scarce…” She looked down at the skeletal children. “…Remember these words well…following the rules may make others happy and keep the peace, but if it comes at the cost of your or another person’s survival…ignore them.”

“…”

“…”

And with that, Knight Knight walked back to her post, leaving the receptionist alone with the two brothers.

The hand monster wasn’t angry anymore, in fact, she felt a bit guilty and embarrassed over her previous behavior. It was true that the coins in the fountain were people’s wishes…and it was part of her job to make sure people treated those wishes and the memorial with respect, but when looking at the big picture and thinking about WHY so many thieves were running about, well, it was clear who the bad guy was.

“I apologize for my previous behavior,” said the receptionist bowing low. “I’d forgotten that rules were made to help others, not act as bait for the desperate. There’s no point in a memorial if there’s no one left to honor it.”

How many people have starved to death for my job?

She winced and shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of such thoughts. What was done was done, all she could do now was change so it never happened again.

“Is okay Nail-Lady!” said Papyrus petting her back with his wingdings, “It’s your intentions dat count, not what you do.”

“that’s true. as long as you’re at least TRYING to do the right thing, you’re still a good person. mistakes are mistakes, ya’ know? you shouldn’t be punished for something you didn’t MEAN to do, ain’t that right pap?”

“Daz right big Buther! Now give us da’ key.”

“say please.”

“No.”

The woman handed the baby bones, who had taken the liberty of climbing onto the counter, the key to their room. “Please enjoy your stay.”

“YAAAASS! C’MON SNAS, IS TIME FOR YO’ NAP!”

“you mean it’s time for OUR nap, pappy.”

“NOT TIRED!”

As the boys headed to their room, the receptionist left her post and walked towards the fountain, removing the sign.

It was never put up again.

[mc-i-r]

He tries

Pov: Janus

Tw: major character death, angst, hint of unsymp!sides (except Remus), arguing, illusions(?), knife/stabbing mention (hypothetically), panic attack (implied), swords, all caps (screaming), language, crying, unintentioned body morphing, self deprecating thoughts, overworking, unintentional triggering of panic attack, a  t o u c h of derealization(?)

Let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 2460

A/N: hi @imma-potatoo um I know you probably don’t know me but do you remember this post? yeah I um I wrote it so yeah here it is :)

Edit: tumbled being a bitch baby and I can't get the fuckin link to work I'm so sorry D:

Janus is a complicated creature. He always has been and, presumably, always will be. But that's what humans are, aren’t they? Complicated, fickle little things. They suffer with emotions and thoughts and actions and make their way about the world like little ants trying to please their queen. But Janus has no queen, only five sides and a human to please. He’s not even a human, only a fraction of one that’s forced to live and breathe among the ants. However, no matter what he does, no matter how much he sacrifices and works and improves himself, he just can’t please them. Like I said, he’s complicated.

It’s not as if he’s the perfect person either. I mean, all humans make mistakes right? So why should he be any different? I suppose it’s because of his function, being Deceit rarely has its perks. Sure, impersonating other sides to be listened to or get his point across most likely wasn’t the most effective way to help Thomas but...who can blame him? I mean, it’s not as if he could just pop up and immediately be listened to. Hell, Logan shows up in almost every video and even he’s not listened to! But Janus still tries. And tries. And tries. And tries. And tries.

Nothing works.

Right now, he’s trying to tell them that Thomas needs to take a break. He’s been working nonstop for the past three weeks planning videos, photoshoots, costume arrangements, events, and auditions. Needless to say, they're all a bit stressed. Janus most of all.

Changing from Deceit to Self Preservation was a major change in Janus’s life. I mean, spending years being hated and feared and hidden away from others did its damage, it's part of the reason why Janus inherited the snake traits but, finally being acknowledged that he’s real and a part of Thomas just like everyone else is was....overwhelming. Granted, nothing’s really changed. He still gets ignored, pushed around, and left out but...when those two words left Thomas’s mouth… that was all he needed. All he wanted. To just be seen. To be noticed by someone other than Remus.

It only lasted for a week.

Still, he does his job. He makes sure Thomas washes his face in the morning and drinks his coffee. He makes sure he goes to sleep, takes a shower, washes his clothes and does everything else a man in his thirties does. But throwing more and more projects in the mix means Janus gets pushed to the side, left to scream from a distance that Thomas needs to take care of himself. He’s been working overtime just to make sure Thomas goes to bed, not even worried about what time as long as his head hits the pillow before the sun comes up. Sometimes, he’s been unsuccessful. But he still tries. Even now, stressed and overworked out of his mind, he tries.

He was relaxed...well, somewhat, giving his points sparingly to not push the boundaries of his newfound acceptance too soon. He added a pro here and a fact there, trying to lead them all in the right direction. So far only Patton agrees and, given recent events, that basically means everyone else is against it. Still, Janus tries.

He’s settled in between the banister and Logan, putting him unfortunately close to Virgil who is definitely not sparring on giving him his fair amount of glares. Still, Janus endures, knowing that a break will only do Thomas good. I mean, have you seen Hamilton?

But the bickering soon turns into arguing between Roman and Patton, Janus not even daring to interject. It was surprisingly intense, the newfound hatred on Romans end and the persistent pushing from Patton coming together to explode in a bout of yelling. Janus shrank back from the noise, pushing himself further into the shadows in an attempt to hide himself. It, unfortunately, didn’t work.

“Jan, tell him that he needs to take a break!” Patton pleaded, looking at Janus with eyes that held all too much emotion behind them. He wanted to help, he really did, but…

“Oh yeah, please Janus, tell us why Thomas needs a break now that he’s finally getting work done,” Roman sassed back. Janus knew Roman just wanted to prove a point. He knew that. But the intense gaze the creative side gave him made him shudder. Roman was mad at Patton, not Janus. Still, the look of pure hatred bore into Janus, pricking his skin and making his stomach drop.

He couldn’t speak. No witty quip or sarcastic remark, not even a hiss. He just froze. He felt everyone’s eyes turn to him, waiting for a response to the very simple question. Hell, Janus had been supporting it for the past hour they had been talking about it! But now, all eyes on him and tongues ready to object, he couldn’t speak.

It felt as if the room was spinning, warping and contorting around him until he couldn't tell left from right. He knew it wasn't really happening, the real world didn’t work like that, but his brain was convinced that it was. He felt his eyes go wide and he stumbled, catching himself on the banister. He tried to hide it by adjusting his hat only to be met with a concerned voice.

“Janus? Kiddo, are you okay?” Patton, sweet sweet Patton asked, dropping the fierce gaze and tone and replacing it with a gentle question. Janus swallowed and cleared his throat.

“I’m fine, Patton, thank you for your...concern” Janus trailed off, taking a breath in between his words. His eyes started to waver in and out of focus. He gasped and stumbled again, leaning in the banister to keep his weakening body up. He heard Patton shout something, presumably his name, and rush over to him.

Too close too close too close-

Janus hissed at him, shrinking away from Patton and further against the railing. Patton paused, a flash of hurt washing over his face before he took a few steps back, holding his hands up in defense. Janus hated that look, the type of look that made you want to wrap Patton in a blanket to protect him from the world. He wanted to apologize but his throat wouldn’t work, staying stubbornly quiet as the room spun.

A sharp pain bore its way through his skull, feeling as if a hot knife was being stabbed in his snake eye over and over and over again. He yelled out and grabbed his face, kneeling over as it sent a wave of pain through his body. He could feel the others rush forwards, all ready to help the now screaming side.

Get away get away ge-

“Get away!” Janus hissed out.

He felt his body glitch, his insides morphing into something inhuman. He heard a gasp and he opened his eyes to see Patton covering his mouth, Logan furrowing his brow, Virgil staring at him with wide eyes and, of course, Roman with his sword drawn. Janus reached up to his face to feel glasses. He looked down to see a cardigan wrapped around his shoulders and draped over a light blue shirt. He glanced at Patton, confirming the suspicion that he had transformed into the moral trait.

“Kiddo...what's happening?” Patton asked quietly, patiently waiting for an answer.

Janus didn’t have one.

“I don’t kn-aaAAHH!” Janus tried to speak but was interrupted by another glitch, his voice cracking and diving deeper. He kneeled over again, wrapping an arm around his stomach. He could see a blue tie hanging from his neck and, upon sitting up, he realized he had now morphed into Logan.

“Janus are...are you okay?” Logan asked, speaking quietly and for the first time all day. Janus opened his mouth to speak when he glitched again, changing into Roman quicker than he did Patton or Logan. His mind didn’t have time to register the change before he glitched again, becoming draped in a plaid-patched jacket. He heard Virgil hiss.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” Virgil hissed out, more panicked than angry. Janus began to sass back when he glitched again, changing back to his former self.

He took a breath and shook his head, leaning against the banister to support himself. He wrapped an arm around his stomach and felt his skin prickle, his scales shining as well as his discolored eye. He slowly looked up, locking eyes with Thomas.

“H-...help-” Janus whispered before he was cut off by a scream, his body morphing back to that of Patton.

He couldn’t control himself now, his body moving on it’s own accord while his mind begged for it to stop. He just wanted it to stop. His mouth opened and before he knew it, he was speaking.

“I don't know if I can believe whatever YOU tell me.”

The words left his mouth before he even realized what they were, his hand involuntarily slapping itself over his mouth to stop him from saying more. Patton looked at him with wide eyes, covering his mouth with his hands in shock. Janus could see...he could see the pain in his eyes. The hurt. The regret. Tears were already forming on the moral traits’ face, one or two of them rolling down his flushed cheeks.

“J-Janus? What…?” Patton whispered out, voice barely audible even though the room was silent.

“Pat, ple-” he wanted to apologize. He needed to apologize. But the words couldn’t come out. He glitched yet again, changing into the logical side once more.

“You’re nothing more than a glitch, a mistake in the mind.”

Logan froze solid, face blank in shock. Janus couldn’t blame him, having his own hurtful words thrown back at him would do that to you. Logan absentmindedly fiddled with his tie, staring blankly at Janus. Janus tried to reach out, to take a step and tell him that it was okay, that this was all just a big mistake and that he was sorry, but the fear in Logan’s eyes when he took a step forward was enough to know he should keep his distance. Perhaps, forever.

The bones in his back shifted, forcing his body to morph into the creative side. He leaned exhausted on the railing, looking up at Roman in reluctant hatred.

“We can’t trust him! Did you forget that he’s EVIL?!”

Romans surprised gaze turned into a scowl, his eyes narrowing at the unwilling imposter in the room. Who could blame him? Janus has barely even been acknowledged as a facet of Thomas’s personality, much less accepted and liked. If he starts changing and mocking other sides in front of them all is it really such a stretch that Roman would be on guard?

But Janus can’t stand it. Not anymore. He and Roman had come to somewhat of an agreement, both apologizing soon after the last video and working on building their relationship from the ground up. Things had been good as of late but this...this could ruin that completely.

So Janus cried.

He didn’t mean to, it just kind of...happened. The stress from the past few weeks mixed with whatever was going on currently and the loss of trust between him and Roman was enough to send him over the edge.

He choked out a sob, covering his mouth with his hand as he looked pleadingly to Roman. Praying, wishing for it to stop. He just wanted it to stop. Romans intense gaze softened, his sword lowering as the creative side was at a loss for words. Well...almost.

“Jan? Jan, what’s wrong?” Roman asked tentatively, scared of saying the wrong thing or making the wrong move. Jan appreciated him for that, always willing to look out for others no matter what. That's what made him an inspiration.

He reached out with his hand towards Roman, hoping that something would happen to make it go away. All he got in return was another glitch and a purple patchwork hoodie over his shoulders.

“N-no-” he tried to make it stop, to morph back to his old self and hide away forever. But his body didn’t hold him any sympathy, his mouth dripping out evil words.

“Even if he can tell the truth, that doesn’t mean he can be trusted.”

Virgil's eyes lit up in shock, his eyeshadow darkening as he backed up from the deceitful trait. He started shaking his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he slid down the wall. He tried to speak, his words cut off by a wave of panic.

“I-...I’m so-sorry, Jan. I-...I-” the boy in black buried his face in his hands, Roman soon rushing over to comfort him.

“I...It’s o-” Janus was cut off by a grunt as a wave of pain passed through him. “-kay. It’s okay.”

“Kiddo, are you sure?” Patton asked...scared? He was careful, speaking softly much like he did when calming Virgil down from an atta-….oh.

Oh.

Janus slowly looked up at him as his body morphed around him, changing back to his own skin. He didn’t feel real anymore, his face feeling too foreign to be familiar. He had no mask up anymore, all his emotions out there in the open for all to see. His eyes were cloudy, covered in a film of exhaustion and weakness. His skin was pale and flushed, his body shaking. He was absolutely pathetic.

He weakly looked over to Thomas, his body relying solely on the support of the wooden stairs behind him. He locked eyes with him, his stomach souring at the pity in his eyes. He opened his mouth, voice coming out in hoarse rasps.

“Oh, I hate this guy and his creepy...snake face!”

“Get out of here, Jack the Fibber!”

“Gah, Deceit! Leave me alone you slippery snake!”

“Well, your face ruined my day so we’ll call it even.”

“Why is he still here?”

“E V I L!”

One by one he repeated the words, his tears falling faster and his body growing weaker. He collapsed on his knees after the final word, clutching his chest as his breath grew sparse. He heaved in a final breath, looking around the room at each of the sides individually. He gasped out his final words, ones that would stick with the rest of them forever.

“I’m sorry.”

With that, he disappeared, his body falling limp to the floor. There were screams. Cries. Pleas for him to come back, for him to have a chance at being accepted. But it never worked. Day after day, year after year, nothing ever worked. Thomas would realize soon after that he had lost the ability to lie…

...and Janus with it.

Taglist: 

@whattheremus

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

[maximoff56]

Don't Go pt.1

Peter Parker x Speedster/Maximoff Reader

Summary: On a mission Peter gets distracted thinking that all of the bad guys has been delt with. Unfortunately he was wrong, one of the men figured out how to get free.

Warnings: angst, sadness, sad Peter, guns, blood, violence, crying

(Sorry I'm not good at warnings and stuff)

It was a seemingly simple mission, a few rouge shield agents had stolen some weapons from headquarters and the team was sent to retrieve the weapons and apprehend the men that had stolen them

It wasn't a long ride in the quinjet, only about 30 minutes from Avengers compound. You and Peter were free when the mission was called so yoi guys decided to go along. It hadn't been long since Peter had fully become Spider-Man so this would be good practice for him.

After your brother had died, Wanda pulled away from you and it only made things worse for you. Until you started going to school with Peter, it had been him to bring you out of the hole that you had dug yourself into and about six months ago he had confessed his feelings which you returned immediately.

"Hey" Peters voice snapped you out of your thoughts. "Everything alright, you're staring" You hadn't noticed that you had, in fact been staring at Peter as you got lost in yoir thoughts.

"I'm sorry Pete, just thinking" You gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hand that was still interlocked with yours. "You ready for this spidy?" You changed the topic quickly before he assumed what you were thinking about.

"So ready, last time I was with everyone it was just a stupid meeting thingy but now I get to work on actual mission with you guys and I can't wait fo-" Peter stopped his rambling when he notice the smile that had taken over your face. "Stop it"

"Yo! Lovebirds get your asses over here the Jets about to land" Clint called, catching the attention of both you and Peter. You chucked and pat Peters thigh twice before getting up and going towards the rest of the group.

"So what exactly are we looking for cap?" Nat asked as she fixed the gun into her holster and a few other of her gadgets on her suit.

"The scans show that the creats should be towards the back of the building. They're the basic shield weapons creats" Steve said "Youbhave your partners so stuck close to them and don't let them out of your sight, and keep yours eyes pealed for anyone with guns" The door to the quinjet opened and the team filled out.

"You ready miny maximoff" Sam, who you had been assigned with bumped into you jokingly. Sam had taken you under his wing, both literally and figuratively when you joined the Avengers.

"Watch it Willson" You gave him a side look before taking a few steps over to where Peter was standing with Nat who was his partner. "Be careful you two. Especially you Parker" You quickly pulled Peter close you pecking his lips quickly and pulling away before he could fully register what had just happened.

"Y-yea i-ill definitely do th- that" You chuckled at his shocked face and the studder he gains when he is nervous or flustered. The blush on his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by the smirking Natasha standing next to him.

"Speedy hurry it up" You gave Sam a dirty look over your shoulder before waving by to Peter who said a quick 'bye' before jogging over to Sam.

"Shut the hell up snd let's go" You said as he opened his mouth to say something. "We had the west back corner for searching, now let's not dilly dally pigeon" using your speed you go to the door you were supposed to open and waited about a minute for Sam to catch up.

Each group searched their section of the back of the building, each person coming through the coms saying that their section was clear and had nothing in it.

"Alright, I'm just gonna take a lap, around the hole building, see if I can find anything. This is taking forever" You spoke through coms after getting the go ahead from Tony you made your way through the building.

Searching the building didn't take long with your speed, only about a five minutes before you had found the creats that Steve had been taking about and what you were searching for.

"Hey guys I found the creats, I'm sending you the location" you got a few 'okays' and 'nice jobs' through the coms. As you waited for the team, to show up you took in the fact that there were none of the men that had stolen the creats anywhere in sight.

"Hey" you turned your head to see Sam, Wanda, abd Clint turning the corner of the building "Nice job speedy" Sam clapped your shoulder as he examined the creats.

"Sam watched out!" You turned and saw Wanda used her powers to shove Sam, a bullet going through the creat he was standing in front of. Right where his chest was.

"Bastards" Yiu muttered and the four of you went to fight off the men, Clint calling for backup to the rest of the team.

You went to face the man who shot at Sam "Bitch" he said as you dodged one of his pushes, you had unloaded his gun, the bullets dropping to the floor with a clatter.

"Ouch" You fake a pout and quickly slammed the man to the ground, making him hid his head and pass out. You turned around and quickly had to dodge three bullets as a man behind you shot at you.

He didn't have time you shoot again before he was pulled back and his gun was taken and a punch to the face knocked him out. "Though you told us to be careful" You let out a sigh of relief when you saw Nat standing next to Peter.

"Are you okay?" You were quickly pulled into a hug by Peter. You chuckled had returned rhe hug, patting is back a few time before pulling away.

"I'm fine Peter, but you might wanna see this" you showed him over to the creats, one of which was already opened. Inside was a type of gun that you know Peter would geek out about.

And he did, taking to Tony about the makings of the gun and what they do. While you went over to where Nat was tying up the rouge agents so they couldn't get free.

"You love him don't you kid?" Your head snapped up to look at Nat. "Oh don't deny it, I see the way you look at him" you looked at the ground to attempt to hid the blush on your face.

"Wha-" Nat turned around quickly when she felt something grab her. You saw it in slow motion. The man pulling the gun from Nats holster and shoot directly in front if him, towards you, but his aim must has been off because the bullet passed you and was going right towards-

"Peter!" You yelled and speed towards him. You quickly jumped in front Peter, he had already turned to fact the commotion before the gun was fired.

His eye widened when he saw you appear in front of him. You had steadied yourself by grabbing his arms with your hands as you examined him, looking to see is the bullet had hit him.

"Y/N?" Your eyes traveled back up, expecting to meet his but his eyes were focused on your chest. "No" he whispered. That's when the pain set it, you felt your legs give out as you fell into Peter.

"Hey!" Peter had caught you and lowered both of you to the ground, his hand putting pressure onto the wound on your chest, trying to stop the blood. "Y/N, no hey come on you gotta stay with me okay."

Nat had run over to where laying trying to, find a pulse on your wrist. "Hey keep your eyes open Y/N" she said. Wanda was stood frozen a few feet away, her eyes widened in horror.

"W-why did you do that. Y-Y/N. No hey please talk to me okay" You could here Peters voice although his voice seemed distant and you couldn't really focus on it. Your vision was blurry as you tried to use your energy to listen to his voice.

"You can't leave, please don't go Y/N I- I can't lose you okay. I love you, and I- I know you love me too" the two of you had never said that before.

"I do" you chocked out, your voice was horse and extremely quiet but you knoe Peter understood because he let out a sob as the tears in his eyes finally began to fall.

"Kid you gotta get her to the ship" Tony placed a hand on Peter shoulder and Peter nodded quickly, not taking his eyes off of your paling face.

You felt Peter lift you off the ground and began to more you towards the ship. You couldn't understand what he was saying hut you could hear Peter whispering things to you as he carried you.

You were able to focus your vision one last time to see him looking down at you when dried tears on his cheeks and fresh one pooling in his eyes. You smiled softly before you felt yourself go fully limp and darkness consumed your vision.

[lovelyirony]

Title: I wish i could forget you

Tony Stark was not supposed to be in the car when Howard and Maria Stark attended a Christmas holiday party for another company. In fact, Hydra had wanted him to stay home. 

Unfortunately, Tony had ticked off Howard a bit too much, and so here he was in a tuxedo that was a bit too big, uncomfortably shiny shoes, and a temper that was close to blowing. 

Thank god they were almost home. 

When a car crashes, one almost can’t believe it. Tony can see the outside blurring, and he can hear glass crunching, and he hears things that he really doesn’t want to hear. He is fairly sure that Maria screamed. 

A metal arm. 

Huh. 

Well, not the most typical. He also doesn’t think that the man knows he’s here. 

Howard and Maria Stark are killed. Tony feels like shit because he couldn’t do anything. His forehead is bleeding and he didn’t want to move out of fear for himself, which seems selfish, but also maybe a survival instinct? 

God, his bow-tie is still constricting air flow. 

Once the man turns, Tony realizes that he wasn’t the target. They probably had no idea he was in the car, whoever “they” were. 

He gets out of the car. The car door creaks, and the man whips around. 

His eyes widen. 

“You--what?” 

The voice is surprisingly American. 

Surprisingly? He’s not sure why it’s surprising, it’s not like an American can’t kill just look at history, but still, Kind of surprising. 

"What, wasn’t supposed to be here?” Tony rasps out. He realizes now that he’s basically sent himself a death sentence as the man surges forward. 

“What are you doing here?” 

His eyes are piercing. Also very, very familiar with some photographs that Peggy has on her mantle and her desk. 

James “Bucky” Barnes. Son of a bitch. 

“What are you doing alive?” Tony asks. “I thought you were lost in a ravine in Europe somewhere.” 

“What--huh?” 

“Ravine. In Europe. You know who you are, right? Is this some kind of sick...what did they do to you?” 

“I do not know what you are talking about.” 

His eyes get cold again. 

“Who are you?” 

“I am the Asset.” 

It is now that Tony realizes that every single shitty sci-fi book is probably right, and his disdain of “wacky science” and “magic” have all been for nothing, because here is Bucky Barnes, who apparently has no idea who he is. 

Then Tony gets knocked on his ass. His body slams against the icy road, and Barnes is rushing towards a motorcycle. 

And he’s alone. He can’t breathe, all the wind knocked out of his chest. He thinks he broke a couple of ribs. 

- 

No one believes him. At all. SHIELD brushes it aside. 

“There’s no way Barnes could be alive. You were probably just seeing things,” they tell him. “Would you like us to find you a therapist?” 

“No,” Tony says, and they ask why. He laughs, sipping on his water. “SHIELD has so much loyalty to itself, I’m afraid I’d be compromised.” 

“Therapists aren’t supposed to divulge any information,” Nick Fury adds carefully. “And we’re a secret-keeping bunch. Nothing goes out that comes in.” 

“Unless, of course, it’s necessary,” Tony drawls, staring at Fury. God, the leather outfit...that’s weird. “Then I’m out in the open, Nicky. And what fun is that unless I get to show off an outfit in full-coverage?” 

“...I’ll have an agent escort you home. We’ll have guards overnight.” 

“Don’t bother.” 

“And why is that? Think you can handle it by yourself?” 

“Fury, my family has made a career out of thinking a lot of things. You’re not being as detrimental as you think.” 

He finger-waves, grinning and winking at agents on the way out. 

- 

Now comes paranoia. This is welcome, actually, because it’s allowing him to work up new security measures and hack into various security cameras around the world to see if he can find Barnes. 

It’s like he’s a ghost. And fuck, maybe Fury was right. Tony doesn’t like that, but that may be it. 

Merry fucking Christmas. 

- 

Years go by, and Tony keeps a tiny ear to any news about mysterious deaths that can’t be explained. A man that glows in lamp-light, has no identity. He’s not sure if it could be Barnes. God knows he’s no longer seventeen, and Barnes--it if it was Barnes--would be way older. He should’ve been an old man in 1991, but he wasn’t. 

It kind of reminds him of the conspiracy theory that Walt Disney was kept cryogenically frozen, which is just ridiculous, because as far as he’s concerned, you’d need a bit more to you than just regular skin and bones. 

And this is where it hits him. 

Barnes was experimented on when he was captured by Hydra. Peggy told him that Rogers told her that he was repeating his dog tag number over and over, as if someone was trying to take him over. 

Yeah, you’d need a bit more. 

Like a fucking super soldier serum. 

- 

This then delves into Tony realizing that if Barnes is flash-frozen, then...well, could Rogers have survived? He always thought his dad was crazy, but a broken clock is right twice a week or however the hell that saying goes. He never used it, he wasn’t a broken clock. 

(He was broken, but he’s not going to compare himself to a clock. Perhaps  Model-T.) 

- 

They find Rogers. Tony realizes Howard did his math completely wrong for years, and probably never let anyone look at it because he was a World Super Genius. And a Colossal Dick. 

Steve Rogers is one tough cookie to crack. Tony chips off some of the ice and puts it in a glass of scotch. 

“Do you really think that’s the most appropriate thing to do?” Phil Coulson asks. 

He’s shocked, but mainly because Tony has seen his Cap collection, and that man has so many limited edition cards and lunchboxes that it’s a bit crazy. But at least he knows how to decorate with it and not have it look like an absolute nutjob swept into his house and did it all in red-white-and-blue. 

“Phil, my darling, when have I ever done anything the appropriate way?” Tony asks. He stares at the face that’s emerging out of the ice. “Besides, what else are you going to do with this ice, hm? Besides melt it all off?” 

Steve is a miracle. Every scientist on earth wants to poke and prod at him. 

Tony breaks him out of SHIELD in a week, because he swears to shit if one more scientist asks to take blood samples “to see how going under Arctic temperatures affects the bloodstream” (and also take DNA for cloning) he’s going to lose it. 

Fury yells at him for two hours. 

Steve flips Fury off from the couch, where he’s been channel-surfing for the better part of three hours. 

“You’ve already corrupted him,” Fury scowls. “Rogers, we need to talk--” 

“He’s retired,” Tony says. 

(Steve is not, technically. Hasn’t said anything. But Tony is putting him on mandatory retirement for at least a year.) 

“What’s...what the ever-loving fuck is that?” Steve asks. 

An infomercial. For an automated chair. Mostly used for old people. 

Tony grins. 

“You wanna see how fast I can launch you out of one?” 

“I’m going to say yes. Professionally.” 

Ten miles an hour, and Steve goes flying across the room into a pile of pillows. 

It’s not the end-all solution. God knows Steve calls him “Howard” and asks where a lot of nasty food is, and sometimes can’t tell the difference between what his brain is seeing and what is actually there. 

But Tony gets him help. And Steve goes to art school. 

It’s all very funny, actually. Steve rants about “modern art” and how “if he could kill any concept it would be abstract expressionism, what the fuck.” 

Tony buys and then donates a Rothko in his honor. 

Steve fumes, but finds it hilarious. 

Then, there’s the attack on New York. 

Norse god of mischief decides to end New York, blah blah blah. 

Captain America reappears, everyone loses their shit, and Tony almost dies. 

Then he gets four other roomies besides Steve, and he has to make a chore chart. Ugh. 

- 

Barnes reappears in France. Tony gets a fairly good image, and Natasha stills. 

“You know about Winter Soldier?” 

“Barnes? Yeah.” 

“You know who he is?” 

“James Barnes. At least, I think. He tried to kill me, wasn’t very successful at it.” 

Steve overhears. 

This leads to a chain of events that ends in Steve not coming to family dinner because he’d rather sit in his room and listen to Green Day or Glenn Miller or whatever the hell gets him even more upset. 

“Listen, Steve, I’m sorry. But up until this picture? I was only about sixty percent sure I wasn’t full of beans.” 

“Why is that the phrase you use?” 

“What, full of beans? Bruce says I have to work on my cursing. Apparently, children are impressionable. Who knew?” 

It’s not a total success. Steve still doesn’t like that Tony didn’t outright tell him, but Tony isn’t going to tell Steve that he has the mental stability of a single cashew. 

So begins the hunt for Barnes. Which actually isn’t too bad. 

He’s in DC. Not for any political clean-up, unfortunately. He’s trying to kill Fury. Tony doesn’t know why, at least until he looks up Pierce, who’s technically, mostly retired from SHIELD. 

And yet still uses most resources that technically? He needs more than one authorization from multiple people. 

God, people are getting bad at covering their tracks. Used to be harder to catch and see if someone was doing dirty deals. 

(Okay, not like he can talk because Obie was...well, no use in discussing that now. He needs to focus.) 

Nat and Steve are bad at lying. This kind of surprises him, because Steve is usually a successful liar. He’s convinced Clint that it’s not him who keeps eating his peanut-butter-fudge ice cream, but Thor. 

And Natasha used to be Natalie Rushman. Then again, Tony was poisoned during that one, so that might just be on him. 

-

Helicarriers go in the water. 

Tony’s working on making sure most of the information doesn’t reach the general public, although he can’t stop it all. 

Barnes falls off the face of the earth, and Steve wants to go on another treasure hunt. 

“Let him come to us, or figure himself out.” 

“This isn’t a college kid going backpacking in Europe for a year,” Nat snaps. “He’s...you know who he is, who he was, and what he can do.” 

“Counterpoint: we don’t know if he secretly really wanted to see traditional decoration of Ukrainian Easter eggs,” Tony says. “God knows that I want to learn more about that.” 

“Is everything a joke to you?” 

"Only on federally mandated holidays,” Tony says with a shrug. “But let him be. Steve, it’s one thing that he didn’t kill you. It’s another thing that he hauled you up from the Potomac. I’m not sure I would’ve done that because who goes up alone to a helicarrier?” 

“Historically nobody,” Natasha says. “Most people don’t have any helicarriers.” 

“God, this situation sucks,” Tony says. “What if. We potentially. Ignore all of it and have spinach and artichoke dip? Hm?” 

“With toasted bread?” 

“I’m not an animal, Steve.” 

“Your penchant for four a.m. coffee while you don’t realize you’re singing songs from the seventies says otherwise,” he responds. 

“Well well well, if it isn’t the punishment of you getting the aux taken away for a week,” Tony taunts. 

“Oh, come on!” Steve whines. 

“Nope, just you having to listen to more of Bruce’s questionable tastes.” 

“Fuck.” 

- 

Barnes comes stateside. The only reason Tony knows this is because Jarvis says that he may have spotted Barnes, but he’s not sure. 

“J, you’re the most advanced system in the world, not to mention my son, and you like to hack into the Pentagon for funsies.” 

“All of that could not have prepared me for this.” 

Barnes is wearing a neon green tank top that is advertising Coco Beach in Florida. 

“Can I laugh? Or is that sad?” 

“Multitask, Sir.” 

“Oh, true.” 

- 

Barnes is not in New York. Tony has to near-about put an electric fence around the whole state so that Steve doesn’t go on a road trip. 

Hell, Tony doesn’t even trust him to go to coffee alone, but that’s a bit much. 

“We have to wait,” Tony says. 

Sam Wilson is a godsend. Also the funniest man Tony knows. 

He is also emotionally healthy and very perceptive, so he has been noticing that Tony is nervous. 

Because how do you face the man who killed your parents? Technically? 

“Are you talking to your therapist?” Sam asks. “Just thinking you should.” 

“Sam, we’re working on my issues from 2007. Believe it or not, it will be taking a full year.” 

“I don’t like that I can never tell if you’re serious.” 

“I know you remember the tabloids from 2007, I wrote a mesh vest. Clearly, I need so much help.” 

Sam snorts. 

“Maybe. Hey, I’ll catch you later. Clint and I are gonna go try and find some questionable shirts to crop.” 

“Did his little protege convince you? Bishop, right?” 

“Kate, yeah. She’s convinced our public image will go viral or something. Good luck with helping Steve and Nat with your super-soldier hunt.” 

“Thanks. Let me know if you find a shirt with my face on it. I want it.” 

Sam snorts. 

“Will do.” 

- 

Bucky Barnes comes to New York in early May. The springtime is slowly but surely fading off, sun approaching more and more. Tony is enjoying coffee on a veranda, and then suddenly his waiter is nowhere to be found and he’s not entirely sure if his visitor takes credit or debit. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Maybe. Depends on if you’re gonna kill me or not.” 

“I think Steve would be a bit broken up about it.” 

“Do you care what he thinks?” 

“On this situation? Yes. When it comes to culinary choices? No.” 

There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. Tony’s trying extremely hard not to remember shattered glass and a motorcycle on ice. 

“Can we, uh, table this conversation? For later. Espresso and all that, plus the added bonus of our shared history, so...” 

“Shared history?” 

“You don’t remember?” Tony asks. Bucky shakes his head. “Ah. Then this is truly a comedy of errors. Maybe. Um. Listen, I, uh...I gotta go. You need to talk to Nat or Steve or hell, maybe even Thor. Is Thor a good option?” 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“Barnes, I can’t exactly face you right now.” 

And then he jumps off a balcony. 

A fucking balcony. 

Jesus H. Christ, his therapist is gonna be so excited for their next session. 

The suit wraps itself around him, and he can finally breathe, and he’s thinking about calling Pepper and see if she would like to schedule him a vacation for maybe anywhere but New York and Iowa. 

“Why not Iowa?” Pepper asks. “They have good antique stores. I’ve gotten quite a few good finds for clothes.” 

“I can do shopping retail literally anywhere else, absolutely not.” 

“Spoilsport. Steve know you’re leaving?” 

“I didn’t even really tell Steve what happened with my parents.” 

“Oh, your therapist called. She sounded concerned, but also intrigued.” 

“It’s because Sally almost became an employee of NASA and still has a soft spot for aerodynamics.” 

“What exactly did you do when faced with Barnes?” 

“Check the front tabloid page tomorrow, just tell everyone I’m out of town.” 

“Got it. And Tony?” 

Her voice is soft. 

“Yes, dear?” 

He can feel her rolling her eyes. Affectionately, of course, but rolling all the same. 

“Be safe, and come back. You know Rhodey and I miss you.” 

“I miss you too.” 

- 

A week is spent in Malibu. He really is thinking about selling this place. But for now, it suffices. 

Steve texts him. 

bucky’s back. holy shit 

be back in a week. radio silence. 

got it. no more messages from me. thor tells me to tell you that he broke the sink 

:(((( 

And that’s it. He’s sitting in the house for a week, has already called Sally once and explained how his suit works, and then listened to her talk about how “his reliance on the suit to help him escape unfavorable situations is not exactly the healthiest but also none of my clients have had to face someone who is of weird standing.” 

It’s no secret that Tony doesn’t like Howard Stark. Who would’ve liked that sorry excuse for a father, a man who was so cold-hearted the Arctic looked like a tropical paradise? 

Maria was...Maria was different. 

She wasn’t a good mother. No, she was never a good mother. But she tried, and she didn’t deserve her fate. 

And then there was the question of Bucky Barnes. Who wasn’t Bucky when he was there, but still so damn recognizable. 

It’s kind of like when there’s a movie about a famous person, and another person plays them. Like Tom Hanks, essentially. Bucky played whoever the fuck they get Tom Hanks to play and it’s similar: you see the resemblance, but it’s not it. 

So yeah. 

There’s also the little tidbit that things get complicated when you involve personal feelings and rationality, and really? Tony misses New York. A lot. And he’s not going to let someone else overtake his life just because he’s uncomfortable. 

So he flies back to New York. 

- 

He’s in a bad way, Barnes is. 

“He remembered you,” Steve says. “What he did.” 

“Ah, there’s that.” 

“He doesn’t have to be here,” Natasha says. “I have a couple of SHIELD safe houses to choose from.” 

“None would be adequate to house something like me,” comes the response. 

Barnes looks remarkably shitty, as if he hasn’t slept in eighty years. And maybe he hasn’t. 

“Jail would be more fitting.” 

Tony rolls his eyes. 

“You are literally the most dramatic person ever, and Bruce threatened to take over the government because Thor ate the last croissant. Put those on the grocery list, Steve

“We’re not gonna throw you in jail,” he continues on. “Not because you happened to be used as a goddamned Swiss army knife. I have issues, sure, but I’m not going to be going all Hannibal Lecter or whatever.” 

“Who the hell is that?” 

“Cannibal. I realized that that’s a terrible comparison, please forgive me.” 

“Why a cannibal?” 

“Couldn’t think of anything else but Anthony Hopkins, the actor. My mistake. Point is, we’re gonna have to go through some channels, and I’m introducing you to BARF, as well as a new person who’s gonna rock your world.” 

“I’m pretty much well-acquainted with vomit.” 

“No, not that,” Tony says. “Although we can cover that through my 2005 edition of partying if we really wanna dig up some old magazine interviews. No, I’m introducing you to something that’s going to change your life.” 

-

After that, Tony doesn’t have much to do with Bucky’s life. 

He serves as a permanent guilt trip, nothing says “well, shit” much like being a permanent guilt trip. 

Sally tells him that they should talk it out. Do all that “and how do you feel?” questioning that makes his skin crawl and his eyes ascend to the ceiling. 

I mean yeah, they share a living space. Tony has seen Bucky laugh and smile with Sam, talk with Bruce about a really interesting article about regeneration of plant cells or whatever, and Bucky enjoys videochatting with Wakandan royalty. 

(It also helps that Shuri is blunt as ever, but so blisteringly smart. He’s reading her paper on regeneration of nanotechnology, and it just...it’s the Pieta of research, that paper.) 

But he never speaks to Bucky. Well, he does. But it’s more along the lines of “hey Barnes” and “how are you?” which aren’t exactly the Most Thought Provoking Statements Ever Made. 

Summer comes swiftly, and about near with a vengeance. Tony’s dealing with a heat wave and trying to figure out if going outside is even worth it, and then he and Bucky are alone in the kitchen. 

Tony was debating getting a couple of popsicles from the freezer. Bucky is considering sabotaging Clint’s smoothie that was supposed to be special for tonight, but that he’ll most likely forget. 

“Hey,” Bucky says. “Um, can we talk?” 

Shit. 

He’s been avoiding this, officially, for a month. Potentially more if you’re going to count a few choice events that have been brought up by his psyche. 

“Sure thing, buttercup. What are we talking about. Economy, world crises, the great debate on financial advice?” 

“Isn’t the third thing just the economy?” 

“We can break it down over coffee.” 

“Mm, maybe another time. No, I’m talking about us. About how I--I kind of ruined your life.” 

Tony blinks. 

“You didn’t ruin my life. If my life was ruined you’d be hit with so many lawsuits that I could make the rest of your life look like the third circle of Hell, or wherever it is that people go nowadays in Dante’s eyes. No, you didn’t ruin my life.” 

“I still killed your parents.” 

“If you hadn’t, someone else would’ve. Believe me, there were about fifteen others in line. Sometimes, myself included.” 

“You can’t not take me seriously,” Bucky stresses. “I still did a terrible thing. I just want to make sure you know that you’re being too kind.” 

“I most certainly am not,” Tony says. “Being too kind would have me feeding you grapes.” 

Bucky’s face blanks. 

“Don’t. I...I don’t wanna take advantage of your hospitality. I don’t want to remind you of what happened.” 

“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t wanted,” Tony says. “Believe me. And if you want to leave, you’re free to leave. I don’t want to make you feel like you need to stay here.” 

“I...I want to make it up to you.” 

“Then use BARF and review it,” Tony says. “I’m serious. I need user feedback, and you’re the best candidate for it. Also, please try to convince Steve to wear neon yellow. I just want to see if he’ll do it.” 

- 

Steve wears neon yellow. Tony laughs so hard he cries. 

Bucky smiles. 

It’s a nice smile, really. It’s wide and happy and wow. That’s all worth it. 

And then BARF. Bucky just gives user feedback, nothing else. Tony doesn’t want to know anything else, but they start talking more. 

Tony finds out that Bucky’s been doing crosswords to catch up on current events, and he’s bought taped recordings of World Series games. 

He loves antique stores. He visits them and brings home little trinkets that he remembers in his own house, or what he remembered. He watched old commercials from the fifties and sixties, laughed as he remembered the Sears catalogs that would come in the mail. 

“Me an’ my sisters would beg my mom for new clothes from the catalog, and she never would. Always sewed our pants and skirts so damn well, I probably could’ve used them for the next ten years.”  

Tony laughs. 

“Well, I can’t promise I can sew. But I could give you some armor that could last you twenty years, if you want. Steve told me you’re thinking about doing some distance missions.” 

“Just observation, no armor required.” 

“Sometimes it’s the simple missions that get the worst hits,” Tony says. “Believe me, I know how it goes. So, do you want some armor?” 

Bucky smiles. 

“Sure.” 

“I’ll need feedback.” 

“I’ll give it all I’ve got.” 

- 

Bucky is a goddamned dream to design for. He knows exactly what he needs, what areas are most likely to be pierced, and also has a flair for the dramatic: he requests an Iron Man helmet be embroidered on the back. 

“You’re really just trying to be sweet on me, aren’t you?” Tony teases. 

“My master plan to gain your fortune,” Bucky teases right back. “I’ll waste it all on champagne pools and the worst-looking but most expensive shoes I can find.” 

Tony laughs. 

“Sugar, that’d be incredible if you could spend all of my money on that. I’d commend you.” 

Bucky smiles, and it shouldn’t be as nice of a smile as it is, but here Tony is with his opinions and his concerning thought that maybe he wants to see more of Bucky. 

- 

In the morning, there begins a routine. Tony is always up at eight o’clock. It’s a rare lull in Avenger-morning-routines: Nat, Steve, and Bruce are all done, and Thor and Clint won’t be in until ten o’clock at the earliest. 

(What can he say? Thor’s a god and Clint...well. He needs a lot of beauty sleep.) 

Tony makes coffee, and Bucky makes them both breakfast. Says that officially, it’s to test and make sure that his prosthetic is still performing under optimal conditions. 

(They both know that’s not it.) 

Tony always says he pours too much water, makes enough for two cups. 

- 

Steve calls them out on it. 

“You two are being weird,” he says. “And not like Thor and Bruce trying to reenact that one show about ghosts and unsolved things.” 

“That’s their form of courtship, don’t be fucking rude,” Clint remarks. Natasha snorts. 

“What, us being weird?” Tony asks, pouring a bit more coffee into Bucky’s mug. He always uses too much creamer and then won’t finish his coffee unless there’s more. “Why do you say that?” 

“It’s because you both do couple shit,” Bruce says, breezing into the kitchen. “Also, Steve, lovely to see that you have volunteered to be the next guest on Avengers: Unsolved. We’re planning on using you as a guilt-trip in order to access files about aliens.” 

“Truth will be found!” Thor adds. “But also, yes. Bucky, I thought you were taking him on a date to the art museum on Saturday.” 

Bucky turns red. So does Tony. It really is quite inconvenient. 

“I mean, we could go on a date there,” Tony says. “If you’re okay with that.” 

“You’re doing this in public?” Natasha asks, eyebrows raised. “Hm. Would not have called that.” 

“You owe me fifteen dollars,” Bucky says. “Not you Tony, quit looking at me like that. Yes, it will be a date on Saturday, I’ll wear a nice shirt. Nat said that I couldn’t do anything that surprised her.” 

“Technically, Tony surprised me.” 

“I thought dates were mutual events, hm? Fifteen dollars. I’ll use it to buy the best bouquet in New York.” 

“The best bouquet costs over a thousand dollars,” Thor answers. 

“Not questioning how you know that, but I’m scared of you,” Bucky says. “Then I will get the best fifteen-dollar-bouquet in New York.” 

Tony snorts, smiling. 

“I guess I’ll spray a bit of my perfume on my pillow then, soldier.” 

“I’ll pick you up at noon sharp,” Bucky says, grinning. He finishes his coffee. “We’ll make fun of Steve’s art exhibit together.” 

[striped-menace]

A huuuuuggeee thanks to @imjustalazycat​ for helping me get the proportions correct. You’re a hoe <3 but you’re cute or whatever.  sorry I had to re edit xD Disturbed thought it be better with the story I wrote because the picture makes more sense with it.  Keep reading for the story behind this picture :0

“Would you hurry up?”

​Rex scowled at his father’s words, hurriedly scuffling after him. It wasn’t easy, thanks tothe heavy backpack attached to his back, thanks to his mother who so graciously filled it with items for his first day. Today was Rex’s official first day of kindergarten. He had been excited to meet kids his age to play with, since his brother was too young to rough house with and his father was too rough to play with. Yes, he was ecstatic.

Unfortunately, his father was very quick to sour the five year old’s mood in an instant.

“Why couldn’t mom take me?” He yelled at his father’s back, adjusting the strap on his shoulder.

The older skeleton exaggerated a heavy huff, not turning to face his son with an answer, “Because your mom just had to stay with your shitty little brother at home, and I was forced.”

Rex sighed, not exactly happy with the answer. At least it was honest. He knew his mom was too caught up in his baby brother to actually pay attention to his needs, or even his dad’s. They both had been cast to the wind since Sans had been born. Being an only child for awhile, Rex wasn’t used to not having his mother’s constant attention. In some ways, he heavily disliked his baby brother for it.

“Alright, were here.”

Rex stopped beside his dad, looking up at the large building that towered over him, shrinking whatever joy Rex had left for his first day. Rust sniffed, fixing his cap, face showing no emotion as he shoved his son forward, “See ya later,” He said already walking away.

The younger skeleton panicked, “W-wait aren’t you gonna walk me in?”

His dad snorted, “don’t be a pussy, all you gotta do is walk.”

“But-“

“Later!” His dad continued to walk away, ignoring whatever he was going to say. Leaving Rex to deal with his first day, alone. With an exhale through his nostrils, he walked towards the entrance, his grip on the straps of his backpack tightening. With each step, Rex slowly brought his confidence back. Who cared if his dad was an ass? Who cared if his baby brother got all his mother’s love? Who cared? He wasn’t going to let this ruin his experience. He was going to have a good time, he was… his thought process was interrupted when three boys stopped him right before he entered the school. All looked to be around his age and he offered a smile, hoping to make some friends.

“Hey, my name is-“

“We know who you are.” The middle kid, a grey cat said, cutting Rex off.

The kid on the left, another cat, stepped forward and roughly poked the young skeleton’s shoulder, “Your fresh meat.”

Rust threw away his dead cigarette, taking out a fresh one from his jacket pocket, taking a large inhale. The father skeleton seethed the smoke out through his teeth, dreading returning home to a wife who had her nose up his little spawn’s ass. Little fucker was taking all the attention. Not to mention, he was pretty much his other spawn’s little keeper. Fuck, he knew should have worn a fucking condom.

God damn it, this shit sucked. At least he had some down time without the little shits…

His foot kicked something pretty heavy against the concrete and his face fell when he caught sight of Rex’s lunchbox.

“Fuuuuuuucccckkkkk me.” He whined.

Rust knew all too well if he didn’t return the lunchbox the school would call his home and tell Vinyl, and Vinyl would kick his ass and make him go back with a different lunch anyway. So with a low growl, he flicked his cigarette and snatched the orange bag off the ground, turning back towards the school. He hadn’t walked very far, and his plan was just to drop the bag off at the office and give them their son’s name, but that had been erased when he saw his son. His first born. On the ground, tears streaming down his face in complete utter fear as three children towered over him. Each one taking turns sending a kick or punch.

Rust saw red.

“Look he’s crying!”

Rex grunted when a swift kick was delivered to his ribs, knocking the wind out of him.Their laughs ringing through his skull. This was supposed to be his first day, his special day to meet new friends, learn exciting new things….not get beat up before he could even enter the fucking building.

One of them held his head up, “Why you crying kid? We haven’t even left any bruises…yet.”

Rex whimpered, preparing himself for the next hit, “Pucker up, Buttercup!”

He gritted his teeth, closing his eyes, waiting for that initial force to connect with his face, but it never came. The hold the other kid had on his face had been ripped away, and Rex was dropped back to the dirt. Gasps and a frightened yelp was heard as Rex looked up to see his father holding the one that had him.

“So, you have to have a little gang to beat up on a small kid?” Rust asked with a stone cold glare. He had the leader by the scruff of his neck, the child squealing in pain as all his weight was being held by just the tiny amount of skin.

One of the other kids, completely caught off guard by the skeleton parent’s arrival,stepped up to him, “Hey, let him go! Or I’ll tell-AHH!”

Rust had stomped his foot down onto the kid’s tail, a crunch heard.

“Tell you’re fucking parents, or it’ll be more than your tail that’s broken, bitch.”

Removing his foot off the cat’s now shattered tail, he turned his attention back to the kid in his hand, “And you,” He pulled him closer so their faces were practically touching, “You ever touch my son again, I’ll be sure to cut every single one of your cute little paws off and shove them where the sun don’t shine, same for your friends…got it?”

The cat kid furiously nodded his head, “y-yes s-sir!”

“Good, now get lost.”

He dropped the cat to the ground, watching as he hurriedly scurried away, his two friends following after.

“Pussies….literally,” He muttered to himself, taking out a fresh cigarette and looking down to Rex.

He was sniffling and shaking, yet staring up at his father with wide eyes. Rust sighed and knelt down to his son’s level, “Listen, you can’t let little shits like those, gang up on you. I’m not always gonna be around to have your back, so I’m gonna start teaching you to kick ass. No more bullshit, alright?”

Rex sniffled, wiping away a few tears, “Alright,” He agreed with a hiccup.

With a nod, Rust grabbed his son’s arm and lifted him up, “Good,” He then shoved the lost lunchbox into his arms, “get going.”

The young skeleton didn’t say anything, just solemnly got up and went to walk away. Rust watched him leave, his chest feeling heavy at seeing his son still down. Fuck, this was dumb, but he couldn’t let his son go through this.

He caught up to him, stopping Rex, earning a confused look, “Why don’t we skip school and get some ice cream?” ​Rex’s face lit up, “Really!?”

“Hell yeah, fuck school, ice cream rules!” Rust took his cap off and placed it on top of his son’s head.

“Yeah! Fuck school, ice cream rules!” Rex repeated joyfully.

“Don’t say that to your mom.”

[siriuslyshewrote]

no one wants to dance anymore - f.s

Platonic! Finn Shelby x Shelby!Sister , Isaiah Jesus x Shelby!Sister

Warnings - swearing, talking of maternal death, talk of drug use, and verbal abuse

A/N - Finn and YN are probably 16/17 in this one

Word Count - 2,965

4:17 AM , Christmas Eve, 1925

The Shelby house was never quiet, had never been quiet , not since Rosalie Shelby had her children - Arthur, then Tommy, then the others. It had always been a house of chaos and mayhem, one of arguments and yells, of tears and makeups.

But in all the time the Shelby family had been alive, they had never heard an argument like this.

The Shelby twins - Finn and Y/N - had been practically attatched at the hip since birth, and since then, they'd barely ever argued , only frustrated snipes every once in a while. They were sixteen now, at that age where they frustrated Polly to no end , by constantly sneaking out and going drinking and smoking at the Garrison, though she never worried about them, not really - what reason did she have to be worried? They had each other's backs. And so, Polly was surprised, and none too happy, to be woken up in the early hours of Christmas Eve morn, by angered yells and screams downstairs.  She could hear a babies cries too - probably John's newborn, woken up by the noise. It was typical, for this to happen, when all the siblings and their families were crowded into the terraced house they grew up in, a tradition for the family on Christmas Eve and Day.

******************************************************

"You are a fucking hypocrite Finn Shelby!" You hissed loudly, as he leant against the doorframe, that arrogant smirk on his face, though you knew well it was just a front for his anger. "Always bitching about Tommy's drug use and fucking Arthur's and Johnny's and then you do this?! Actually, less of a hypocrite and more of a down right arsehole!" Your voice raised on the last word, as you threw up your hands in frustration.

You'd always hated drugs, ever since you were a small child. You'd grown up around drug use - first your Pa, then, when the war was over, your brothers became enthralled in it too - the way it helped them forget the horrors they had seen. To you though , the person who had never seen the horrors, all you saw was the people you loved falling apart in front of your very eyes. You and Finn had made a pact when you could have only be ten or eleven, to never be like them. Not in that way. And here was Finn - half high off his mind on snow, but coming down from it very fast.

"I'm the arsehole?" His voice was louder than yours, more fuelled by alcohol and drugs, and you were certain you would wake up your family soon, but you were so angry you couldn't care less. "You are the one who shagged my best friend!"

Ah yes. The reason all of this began. You had been so upset, when you saw your brother at the Garrison a few hours ago - high off his head, that you turned to the only person who was there to comfort you at the time. Isaiah.

"I did not shag him! I fucking kissed him!"

"Same fucking betrayal!"

"Betrayal?! What world are you living in! He's my friend too!"

You were both yelling now, and you knew everyone would be awake at this point.

"Friend? Friend? I don't know about you , Y/N, but I don't regularly go around snogging-"

"I was fucking upset- you promised me Finn! We made a fucking pact! Though I guess I - that doesn't mean anything to you anymore!"

"Stop being so bloody immature! We're not kids anymore, I can do what I want!"

"Oh I forgot, big Finn Shelby, always trying to follow in his brothers footsteps! Well guess what Finn, you're not them! You're still a fucking kid." You spat angrily.

"I'm a kid?! You're the one who ran off to snog Isaiah as a form of petty bloody revenge-"

"I did not!"

"Yes you did! Because that's what you always do! You bloody manipulate people into hurting because you know what will hurt them the fucking most! And that's what you did with me tonight!"

Your eyes widened at this, as you recoiled, and angry tears welled at your eyes, though you refused to let them fall. Finn was always the sibling that was calmer and laid back. It was why you never usually argued. Anything you said usually washed right over his head. You supposed that sometimes you abused that a little.

"At least I have the ability to process my emotions, and don't just fucking hide them because I want to act the big man in front of my brothers! When are you going to see that you're not a proper fucking Peaky Blinder! You-" You almost screeched.

"Enough!" You heard a bellow, and froze slightly. The wrath of your Aunt Polly was enough to sober you both up practically instantly, though Finn still hadn't managed to stand up straight. "You are both children! Christmas bloody Eve and you wake us up like this!"

You turned round, to see Aunt Polly on the stairs, her arms crossed , lips pursed. The look she gave was enough for you to feel like a five year old again, who had just been caught playing with her makeup. The majority of the rest of your family also stood around on the stairs , half looking amused, half looking pissed off and tired. You felt your cheeks burn. All you ever wanted to do was impress your siblings. You had a feeling this wasn't the way to do it.

"Tell him that-"

"Tell her that-"

You both spat at the same time, glaring at each other, fists clenched, your jaws set in exactly the same way. You hated arguing with any of your family, but you, though you rarely showed it, had a temper just like Arthur when you got going, and both of you knew exactly how to hurt the other - you just rarely tried to. It was how you were both so upset right now.

"I said enough! If you can't use your bloody inside voices then don't come inside!"

"Fine by me." Finn muttered, turning and slamming out of the front door, so hard the window pane trembled. You knew then, that he was upset. If he was truly, really, angry, then he'd stay and yell some more. He left because he didn't want anyone to see him as weak. And that made your lip wobble a tiny amount.

"You do not get the last word, Finn Shelby!" You yelled, suddenly well aware how childish you were. But you couldn't stop, as you too, pulled open the front door, and saw him halfway down the street, the dawn light making it just possible to see him.

You stormed off in the opposite direction, to where you always went when you felt like this.

You went to see your mum.

*************************************************

It took, on average, around thirty or forty minutes for you to walk to the graveyard where they had buried Rosalie Shelby. You were too little to remember much - barely six when she passed, but you knew that your family didn't settle on nothing short of perfect for your mother. By that time, your father had already walked out, and your siblings had searched and searched for the perfect place to bury her. She didn't like to feel trapped when she was alive, Johnny had told you. And so, they buried her on the outskirts of Small Heath, on a hill surrounded by wildflowers, that had fuzzy bees fly around them in the summer, and tiny dormice. You loved coming here as a kid, not really understanding what it was - to you it just felt like a day in the countryside, which was rare. You still came often, to talk to her, when you were upset , or angry, or just felt something close to missing her . You knew she couldn't hear you, but some part of you yearned for it. For her to be able to speak back.

"Hey, Mum." You spoke softly, sitting down on the cold, damp, earth, limbs aching from your walk. By now, the sky was almost fully light. Your fingers touched the grave in a sort of greeting.

"I'm scared, Mum. I'm scared for Finn." You swallowed, leaning back on your palms, glancing up at the purple- pink dawn sky. Unfortunately for your baby nieces and nephews, it didn't look like it was going to snow in time for Christmas.

"He's never been like this with me. We're supposed to be a team, you know? But it's like, everyday he's drifting further and further away. I don't want him to, Mum. He's my best friend before my brother, and I'm losing him. I know I am. I just don't know how to stop it."

Your voice kept cracking, and suddenly, salty tears were dripping down your face, falling into the soil. There were several bouquets around the grave, and you weren't surprised. Your family all visited this time of year. Being here , in this place, it was your sanctuary, and it was rare that you would cry anywhere else. You pent up emotions until you felt like you would burst, and then you'd walk here.

"I miss you." You murmured. "In the best way I can. Because how can I miss someone I barely knew? You left us before I got to know your mannerisms like Ada and all the others do. They sometimes sit around and tell stories about you, and I just sit there, because they're just talking about a stranger, to me."

You paused for another few moments.

"Sometimes, I wonder, if you'd stayed, if everything would have been easier. If Tommy would be happier more, if Arth would be less angry all the time, if John  would be-"

"Thought I'd find you here."

You turned round, having got a fright, to see your closest brother - John, standing, no longer wearing his pyjamas, but the suits you were used to seeing him wear. His cap was held between his hands, and for once, no cigarette dangled from his lips.

Quickly, you tried to wipe away your tear tracks, as he sat down beside you, the same cross legged position you were in.

"Come on, Squirrel. Don't cry, eh?" He said softly, wrapping an arm around you tightly, and you leaned into him.

The nickname your siblings had given you (on account of you often 'running away' from home as a child, and usually being found halfway up a tree, along with the fact that you used to have a habit of hiding food all around the Shelby home)  almost brought a smile to your face.

"Is Finn..."

"Ada's gone after him. You know she's better with him."

You sniffed, nodding.

"I'm sorry. I know I was a dick to him again."

He nodded a little. "Yeah, you were. He was a bit of a twat too, to be fair."

"I know Pol says we're just growing up, but.." You swallowed. "I don't want to grow up if it means I lose my best friend, Johnny."

"You're not, Y/N."

"He's never spoke to me like that before. He's doing fucking snow John. And I know that isn't a big deal to you lot. But it is to me. And he just doesn't give a shit."

He was silent for a few minutes.

"C'mon, he does care. He's just..."

"I just... I never thought Finn would end up like..."

"Us?" John's voice was calm, if not a little hurt.

You swallowed. "No. Like Pa. You think I can't remember, but I do. I remember when he used to scream and shout and break things, and I remember when you hid me and Finn and Ada in the cupboard all those times, so we didn't have to deal with it. The way Finn screamed today... I don't know. It just took me back."

His arm squeezed tighter around you, and you felt how much more tense he was. You knew it hurt him far more than it hurt you.

"Why didn't you ever tell us you could remember?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. It's not like I can remember much anyway. It's like with Mum. I can remember tidbits. Just not enough. Not like you all can."

"I wish you could remember her properly." He said wistfully. "Then again, maybe not. We loved her, you know, course we did. But one minute she was great, and the next she was just ... gone. Vacant. I know she wasn't well. It just hurt."

You'd never heard John really open up about your parents. He usually listened, but you found yourself liking this more.

"I feel like I can't miss her properly. Because I didn't know her."

"You can still miss her, Squirrel. Maybe it isn't the same type of  missing as the rest of us, but you can still miss her just as much."

You shot him a small smile.

"Thanks Johnny." You said quietly.

You sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"I really like Isa, Johnny. I didn't just do it to hurt Finn."

He didn't sound shocked. "Yeah, well, we all saw that coming from miles away." He snorted, humorously.

You laughed a little. "I guess it was a bit obvious."

"Really? You going beet red and leaving the room every time you saw him? Never." He quipped sarcastically.

"I didn't mean to hurt Finn. Well... maybe a little. I just want him to be okay, Johnny. I was just lashing out."

"He will be."

"How can you know?"

"Cause I know our Finn. And you do too."

You sighed.

"You've got to let him live, Y/N. I know you don't agree with it, and you should know none of us do either. But he has to realise some things himself."

You paused for a few seconds. Then you burst into snorting laughter.

"What?" He looked at you with a confused smile.

"Jesus... Christ ... Johnny. You sound just like... fucking ... Linda." You laughed.

He playfully jabbed you.

"Take that back, right fucking now." He grinned.

"You'll be spouting about God next." You joked.

He laughed. "The day I turn into Linda is the day I want you to shoot me."

"Don't you worry, John, I will." You snorted again.

"You coming home, then?" He asked, standing up, and it was only then that you noticed the flowers in his hands - fresh ones that he must have brought. He placed them down, next to other ones.

"Yeah." You said quietly, and he pulled you up by your hand, as you dusted mud off your skirts.

"See you, Mum."  He said quietly, turning, and walking slowly away, giving you a few seconds.

"Bye, Mum. Merry Christmas." You placed a gentle kiss on her headstone, before running after your brother.

*************************************************

You’d only just warmed up, when John stopped the car. He, being the cleverer of the two of you, had elected to drive to the cemetery instead of walking thirty minutes in the freezing cold.

You raised a questioning eyebrow, as you saw where he had parked the car - near the part of the Cut that was surrounded by high grasses and small trees - the only part of Small Heath that was remotely like the countryside.

"Go and speak to him." He said, firmly, though encouragingly.

You sighed a little, mock rolling your eyes, though you knew you had to. You closed the door behind you, as you hopped out, leaning back through the window for a second.

"You better wait for us, I'm not bloody walking home in this cold." You grinned, before turning away.

Just like you had your safe place, so did Finn- and it was here. He had told you once, that one of his only memories of your mother was her bringing you both down here as toddlers - just you two - and sitting reading to you in the grasses. He'd later confided in you that he wasn't quite sure if it was real or imaginary, to which you told him you couldn't be so sure about any of your memories either. The place had a dark tinge to you, considering what happened to your mother, but you couldn't blame him for liking it here. After all , your safe place was a grave yard. Who were you to judge?

Finn was sat, legs almost dangling in the river, next to Ada . They looked like they were sat in silence, and so, you thought it was alright to approach. Ada turned as you walked, giving you a small smile, then standing up, and walking past you back to the car. She squeezed your cold hand as she walked past.

"He's calmed down." She murmured. "I hope you have too."

Awkward was never an emotion you had felt with your twin before, but now it was one that overwhelmed you. You didn't know how to speak.

"I'm sorry." You blurted at the both time, as you flopped down to sit next to him.

He sighed. "I'm a dick. You were just trying to look out for me-"

"I wasn't going about it the right way. You’re right. I was being petty.”

“I know you like Isaiah.” He said quietly. He didn’t sound particularly mad. “I’ve known for a while.”

“I still shouldn’t have done it. No matter how upset I was. Because you’re right. A little bit of it was to hurt you.”

He shrugged. “I hurt you too.” He sighed. “Look. I don’t want to ever be like that again. It doesn’t matter what I was on or...” He rubbed a hand over his face. “We’re supposed to look after each other.”

“I don’t wanna grow apart.” You mumbled.

He laughed a little. “Come on. We’re twins. We’re never gonna lose each other.”

You smiled, holding up a pinkie.

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise, Squirrel.”

[mayraki]

CHAPTER NINE

“the red lipstick”

CHAPTER EIGHT

SERIES MASTERLIST

MY MASTERLIST

who is max belinsky?

concept boards for the new characters

summary: Max Belinsky and JJ Maybank are the two troublemakers of Outer Banks. Going to parties, getting into trouble, having an attitude and being the two people you don’t mess with are the perfect ways to describe them. What would happen when the two people who seem to have trouble follow them around meet? One thing is fore sure, they didn’t expect this outcome.

“But why do I have to go?” Max asked her brother Fred while following him into the kitchen.

“Because he’s our little brother. This is his first real party that he’s going to. We don’t want him to do anything stupid.” Fred said. “And besides, aren’t you going anyway?”

“But I’m going to have to keep an eye on him all night!” Max complained. “He’s not a little kid.”

“Yes, he is. He never had a drink or a beer before, what if he gets too much? what if they pressure him on drinking more? He has a big mouth, but not like you, so I need you to be there if there’s the need to kick someone’s ass.” Fred finished his sentence before going back to his room to finish changing for his job.

Max followed him but stayed outside the room. “You know I would be glad to kick someone’s ass, specially if they mess with my little brother. But I believe that if he doesn’t want to do something he won’t do it. What kind of crazy stuff do you think happens on this parties?”

“Well, if he’s like you, every party is crazy no matter what kind of party it is!” Fred yelled on the other side.

Max stayed silent. He had a point. Back when she was fourteen, there was not a party she didn’t end up waking up on the beach or going back home smelling like alcohol. She wasn’t proud of that, it was the lowest she had ever been in her life. It was true, she wouldn’t like to see Cody go through that.

“So?” Fred asked once the door opened and he was with his work clothes.

“Alright. I’m going with him.” Max said while nodding.

“Good.” Fred walked back to the living room followed by Max, that’s when Cody walked through the front door and Max walked towards him with a smile.

“Who’s ready for the party tonight?!” She said excited.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re coming.” Cody said shaking his head before looking at Fred. He nodded.

“Sorry dude, I can’t let you go unsupervised.”

“This sucks!” Cody stormed off to his room and Max opened her mouth offended.

“Let me just tell you that I’m hella of a good time!” Max defended herself but when Fred gave her a warning look she added quickly. “But I’m save! Really save! Nooo drinking young man!” She said while looking at Fred. He shook his head while in his mind was asking himself why he was letting Max take care of Cody on a party.

“Where’s my party people!?” Sam yelled excitedly once Max opened the door of her house with Cody next to her. “What’s up little dude?!”

“Good.” Cody said.

“Looking good!”

“Thanks!”

“Excited for tonight?” Sam asked while letting her arm go around his shoulders after the walk to the beach started.

“Yeah, I would be more excited if I didn’t have my big sister watching me all the time.” He complained. Sam did the puppy eyes to Max while she just rolled her eyes.

“For your information, I will not be looking at you all the time, I’m just going to prevent you from doing stupid things.”

“Yeah, we don’t want you to end up like her.” Sam shook her head.

“Why?” Cody asked confused. But when Sam was about to say something Max cut her off.

“You don’t need to know.”

“But you don’t have to wonder anymore.” Sam said with a smile. “You heard that? That’s paradise.” She said once she music was getting louder and louder.

“This is going to be a fun night...” Max said while she followed Cody to the way to meet his friends.

“A drink for the lady?” John B asked once Max arrived where the kegger was.

“No thank you.” Max said while still looking at Cody on the crowd.

“I’ll take one!” Sam said after walking towards John B.

Suddenly, Max felt an arm go around her shoulders so she turned to where the arm came from. “No drink tonight?” JJ asked with a smile. “Are you being a good girl tonight baby girl?”

Everyone stopped talking to turn their heads to JJ and Max, even Sarah and Kie who were some steps far from everyone. Sam took a sip from her beer waiting for Max’s respond with a smile on her face, like waiting for a cat to attack someone.

Max lifted both of their eyebrows and locked eyes with JJ. A slight smirk appeared on his face. “Do you want to get slapped or something?” She said before moving his arm away from her shoulders.

“I really like my face, so no thank you.” He said before walking towards Kie and Sarah to sit on the sand. Max followed Sam with her eyes, how she walked to Kie and wrapped her arms around her shoulders from behind. Kie turned her head and a smile appeared on her face. Max was starting to think that maybe something more was happening between Sam and Kie, something more than just a friendship forming.

“Would you give me the honours to dance with me?” Sarah asked to Max after walking towards her. “I think those right there might want some time alone.” She pointed with her head at Sam and Kie.

Max nodded still wondering. She was wondering why Sam hasn’t talked about Kie with her, or at least say something... something about being interested in her. There was something about Sam with Kie that wasn’t like the relationship she had with Max, it was different, definitely something more.

But she left those thoughts behind once Sarah grabbed her hand and took her to where the people were dancing to the music. She started to feel the music on her body, she loved to dance. Those times where she felt so lonely and sad, but once she turned on the music and moved her body under the music, all of that was gone.

She made a turn to see Cody with her friends, a little smile escaped her mouth when she saw him dancing around and having fun. All was going well. Until...

“You’re looking good.” Some guy said next to Max. She turned around to see the one that the voice came from. He was very tall and his hair went with his eyes, dark brown. He had a killer smile, that could make anyone fall on his feet. But unfortunately for him, Max wasn’t anyone.

“Thanks.” She said dryly. She started to look around for Sarah but the traitor was now dancing with John B. She took a deep sigh with the intention to turn around and go back to where the rest of the Pogues were, but the mysterious guy moved so he could be in front of her.

“Are you Max Belinsky?” He asked. She nodded confused.

“Why you ask?”

“Well, you’re kinda famous around the Pogues... and the Kooks too.” Max nodded. That’s when she noticed she didn’t have a normal Pogue in front of her, she had an annoying Kook.

“Yeah, well... bye!” She said but the guy put the arm in front of her, to where she was going towards to. She lifted her eyebrow and looked up at him. “Excuse you?”

“I just want to talk.” He said with a smile.

“But I don’t want to, so let me walk away or my face is the last thing that you’ll see tonight.” She said slowly, because apparently the dude had trouble understanding simple words.

“Wow, so your fame is not a lie.” The guy said but he wasn’t moving his arm. “I always wanted to meet the famous Belinsky. You know, since my friend dated you.”

It had to be. She thought. She rolled her eyes and took a deep sigh to not lose control of her self and her words. “Oh, well, assholes hang out with assholes.”

“What?” The guy asked confused.

“You heard me.” Max shrugged her shoulders. She took a step forward but the guy stopped her once again.

“Wait did you just called me an asshole? I’m not going to let you walk away without saying fucking sorry!” He said angrily.

“Max, is everything alright?” JJ asked behind her.

“Who’s this?” The guy asked while looking disgusted at JJ. He was about to say something but Max lifted his index finger letting him know to wait just a second. They both looked at her confused while she reached for something on her back pocket.

Now, her hand was holding a red lipstick Sam made her keep for the party. She slowly opened it with an innocent smile on her face while the two guys were staring at her confused.

“I have to fix this.” She said softly. She started to apply the red lip stick on her lips, without a mirror she was able to follow the lines of her lips. But soon as she was over, she quickly started to apply the red lipstick all over her cheecks, making a huge fake smile like The Joker. She continued with the guys she had around her looking at her surprised and confused. She innocently put the cap on the lipstick so it could go back to her back pocket.

She looked up to the guy who was looking at her surprised. She crossed her hands together while waiting for an answer.

“You were saying?” She asked softly.

“W-What?”

“About you, not letting me leave. You were saying?” Her tone was calm. JJ was trying so hard to not let out a loud laugh. At this point, everything she did, did amazed JJ, but not surprised him.

“I-”

“You know me. You were friends with the asshole I dated. You know how crazy I can be. So why don’t you just fuck off, before you can see how really of a bitch I can truly be.”

The guy slowly shook his head with a little bit of fear on his eyes. He took a step backwards before turning around and leaving JJ and Max behind.

“That was-” JJ started but once Max turned to him with a little smile, he stopped.

“That was what?” She asked innocently.

“You know what? Nothing.” He shook his head. She shrugged her shoulders before turning around to see her little brother, but unfortunately, he wasn’t there. Her heart dropped to her ass once she looked around and he was nowhere to be seen. “Fuck! Where’s Cody?”

“What?”

“Cody! I was supposed to keep an eye on him tonight! Fred is going to kill me if he does something stupid! I need to find him! Fuck!” She was quickly turning and walking around looking for the little brother.

“Max! Wait!” JJ yelled trying to keep up with her. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

“What if he’s with a girl?!” She asked when the thought came into her mind.

“He’s too young for that!”

“Oh, Yeah?” Max asked before stopping and facing JJ. “When did you lose yours?”

JJ stayed in silence thinking. He quickly nodded before starting to walk again. “Yeah, we need to find him like right now!”

“Exactly!”

They both looked like crazy, looking for a little boy and asking for him, specifically if one of the them had red lipstick all over her cheeks making her look even more crazy. But when a random girl said that she saw a group of people going to the other side of the beach, they both quickly walked over there to find, fortunately, Cody and his friends.

Max let out a big sigh of relief. She tried to take her breathing back to normal by sitting down on the sand. JJ followed her with a smile on his face.

“Well, at least we know that he’s not like us.” He said and Max nodded.

“Thank God.” They both let out laughs once they saw how they looked. Breaking heavily with messy hair, red all over her face, and watching a couple of pre-teens talk and have fun next to the shore. That made a group of tourons look their way and talk about them, but then walk away since JJ and Max looked their way. “Yeah.. I would stay away from us too.” She said jokingly.

“Talk about yourself, you look insane!” He pointed at her cheeks but she moved his hand out of the way.

“Shut the fuck up...” she said.

“Seriously, I’ve never seen a girl do that. That’s some crazy shit.”

“Yeah, he’s probably not going to treat a girl like that ever again. He doesn’t know how crazy we can be.”

“Max Belinsky, I’m pretty sure there’s no one like you..” he said quickly between laughs. As soon as those words came out of his mouth, they both widen their eyes at the surprise. She looked away at the ocean in front of her while he tried to come up with something so he could go back to the chaotic JJ. “I mean... I’m sure there’s other people that are crazier than you.”

Max turned to him with her eyebrows lifted. “Oh, Really?”

“Yeah! There has to be.”

“You sure?” She was getting closer and closer to him. He looked at her surprised, but didn’t move back. Once she was close enough, she lifted her hands towards his face to grab it but JJ understood what she wanted to do, so he quickly got up and walked backwards.

“Don’t do it!” He said.

“C’mon!” She got up with her arms spread around, waiting for him to give her a hug. “Let me give you a little kiss!”

JJ looked down at her messy red lips and cheeks. He let out a little smile. “If you want a kiss from me, you have to fight for it!” He said and in that moment, Max started to run towards him. He tried to get away but she was fast, her hands were already on his cheeks trying to bring him closer to her face. When he was where she wanted to, she rubbed her cheeks all over his face while he was complaining.

She let out a loud laugh when she felt her job was done. But when she let go of his face, he quickly grabbed her cheeks. She stood there surprised at his actions. He looked down at her lips, and a sudden need of kissing her hit his body. The waves was the only sound they could hear, it was like they forgot about the people who were surrounding them. It was only JJ and Max and their desire of kissing each other.

The air that was coming out their mouths were mixing with each other. They unintentionally were getting closer and closer, there could be nothing that it could stop them...

“Calling JJ and Max! Hello?!” Cody yalled to them and they both quickly let go of each other’s embrace.

“Y-Yeah, what’s up little bro?” Max asked quickly trying to not let the embarrassment take over her body.

“Are you two ok?” Cody asked while his eyes were going to Max and JJ repeatedly.

“Yeah, dude, we’re alright!” JJ said before letting his hand go to Cody’s shoulder. “How’s the party going?”

“Now it’s kinda boring, can we go home?” He asked to Max which she quickly nodded.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you want.” She said. “See you when I see you JJ!” She yelled once she started to walk next to Cody without turning back to face him.

“Bye JJ!” Cody waved at him but Max made him turn around.

“Bye guys!”

“What was that all about?” Cody asked confused to Max.

“What was what?” She asked innocently.

“C’mon, I’m not stupid. There was something going on between you and JJ. I can see it.”

“No, you can’t see shit because you’re fourteen. Now, let’s enjoy this walk home in silence. Following you around was tiring.” Max said with a head full of thoughts.

JJ and Max spent the rest of the night thinking about that little moment... they weren’t joking, it wasn’t the typical JJ flirting and Max getting annoyed. It was them, but something different was happening... something that they couldn’t fully understand. All they knew is the question that was going on and on on their heads: if Cody didn’t interrupted, they would’ve kissed?

@iamaunicorn4704 @onceinagenerationrage @lasnaro @k-k0129 @x-lulu @oopsiedoopsie23 @baby-pogue @roamingmarauder @ponyboys-sunsets @agirlwholovescoffee @thorsangel @scandalousfemale @deviouscharitos @badbitsh13 @cilorawr @drewsephsmiles @ilovejjmaybank @corebore123 @starksweasley @rudths @allycat449-blog @netflix-imagines @alwaysasadaesthetic @queenofthepouges @jjsmaybcnk @sexytholland @xoxoalxssa @sadcupofcoffee @allielozoya @jjandreidsgirl @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @nevvvv @drewswannabegirl @outerbanksbro @itsyagirljay @alw4ysmaybank @mrsromangodfrey @kay667 @casper17 @jarahisendgame @niya-savage @scooby6 @dustyjjumpwings @sweetlysilent @alternativehp @stilinskingongo @renatafairchild @stfukie @chasefreakinstokes @beloved-vinyl-addict (+)

[romansleftshoulderpad]

Love Sick aka “Five Times Logan Thought Roman Didn’t Love Him and the One Time He Was Sure He Did. (Number 5 Will Shock You!)”

Ships(s): Romantic Logince, background QPR moiety 

Words: 4,513

Warnings: Food mention, swearing, caps, sex mentions, implied sex at the end, a character gets poisoned and is mentioned as “dying” a few times, (No one actually dies), Logan had Dumb Bitch Disease

Tags: @fandermom @patchworkofstars @poisonedapples @hogwarts-my-love @opaque-puppet @omni-hamiltrash @darling-elm @jynxlovesluck @max-is-tired

---

One

Baby, can’t you see

Logan had been hiding from his feelings for quite a while now. He had convinced himself that if Roman did not return his feelings then he could move on with no issue. But first, he had to convince himself that Roman did not return his feelings.

I’m calling.

When they enthusiastically recited Shakespeare together or debated whether or not the inaccuracies of Hamilton matter, or when Roman’s eyes light up every time he shows off a new poem he wrote for Logan, it’s hard not to imagine how wondrous life could be if he did.

They had been sitting together watching Bambi while Virgil and Patton hogged one end of the couch, pressing Logan into Roman’s side. Logan thought he could get over his feelings for Roman.

“I bet you those two will get together before the end of the week,” Roman said with a smile, the pastel colors of the television illuminating his face. Logan had been wrong.

Two

A guy like you should wear a warning.

It should have been illegal for Roman to be a morning person. Logan had hypothesized that it would be much harder to be attracted to Roman if every morning he looked messy and had bad posture. Unfortunately, by the time Logan woke up every morning, Roman was already clean and dressed after his morning run. He smiled, adrenaline still pumping through his veins, and his eyes seemed to sparkle.

Quite frankly, it was revolting how attractive he was.

“Aww️‍, don’t look so grumpy, Teach,” Roman said with a laugh, lifting Logan’s chin with his fingers.

Logan’s only coherent thought had been, “Boy if I wasn’t gay before.”  

“Don’t talk to me until I’ve had coffee,” he muttered.

“Don’t talk to me until I’ve had seven,” Virgil said, sipping his mug from where he sat on top of the fridge.

“When the fuck did you get up there?”

“When the fuck did you become such a nosey bitch?” he asked through another sip.

“Kiddos, play nice,” Patton warned. “Your swear jar savings are going to fund my trip to Hawaii.”

Roman rolled his eyes and sat down next to Logan. He stole a sip of the teacher’s coffee, smirking as Logan blinked back in shock. “You have very pretty hair, Logan,” he said dreamily before mumbling under his breath, “bet it would be great for pulling at.”

Logan could have sworn that his face was on fire.

It’s dangerous.

He almost enjoyed it.

I’m falling.

Three

Roman and Remus had come back scraped and bruised from what Roman had claimed to be “a fight with a dragon witch and a manticore chimera” and what Remus had claimed to be “a bitch of a good time.”

“You look like hell,” Virgil said, wincing slightly as he saw the cuts on Roman’s neck and arms.

“Thanks, I just got back,” Roman laughed, coughing up a bit of blood. “C’mon it’s Heathers! I had to!”

“You are utterly ridiculous,” Logan said, his usual monotone cracking with worry.

“Come on, Teach, don’t get all soft on me,” Roman teased, wincing in pain as he laughed.

“After we have a talk about your impulsiveness, we really must discuss how you’ve picked up on Patton’s habit of hiding your pain with jokes.”

“Hey!” Patton yelled defensively.

“You’re getting better at dealing with that.”

“And we’re very proud of you,” Virgil said tenderly.

“Nonetheless, Roman is still a massive dumbass.”

Roman scoffed in offense. “Would a dumbass have saved that whole city?”

“Your brother helped,” Virgil countered, “so, yes. A dumbass would do that.”

“Would this dumbass do that?”

“So you admit that you’re a dumbass then?”

Roman hesitated as if his brain had been lagging. He sighed into his palm. “Shit.”

“Sit down, Roman,” Logan said softly, snapping his fingers and causing Roman to fall back onto the couch on the other side of the commons. He snapped his fingers once more, summoning a first aid kit and turned to Virgil and Patton. “A moment of privacy please?”

There’s no escape

“You’re going to have to take your coat off,” Logan said as he organized his supplies.

“Are you looking for an excuse to see me topless?”

“Aren’t you always?”

“How dare you!” Roman yelled in feign offense. “I am SHOCKED! I am OFFENDED! I am APPALLED!”

“Just take your coat off before I decide not to help you,” Logan warned. Only a second later he felt heavy fabric hit his head. He whipped his head around, retaliation on the tip of his tongue, but he lost all will to fight back when he saw Roman before him. A deep cut ran across his abdomen. Dried blood covered his skin both near and away from his wounds. Logan sighed, snapping one last time and summoning a washcloth in hand as well as a bucket of warm water by his side. “Just take a deep breath,” Logan said, “and try to relax.”

Roman smiled softly as Logan cleaned the small cuts and gashes on his arm. “You care about me,” he said, more matter-of-factly than teasing. “It’s cute.”

“Your blood loss is worse than anticipated,” Logan said, dipping the cloth in the bucket and ringing it out. He continued cleaning, trying not to think about how intimate the moment was or how beautiful Roman was, especially this close.

“Maybe so, but I’m still right.”

“I didn’t think you can be even cockier, but here you are.”

“Oh I can certainly be cockier,” Roman said with a wink, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You’re worse than your brother,” Logan said. He cleaned the washcloth once more and gently placed it on the large wound on Roman’s torso. He jumped back as the prince loudly sucked in air, biting his lip in pain. “I’M SORRY!” he yelled.

“NO- No, don’t be,” Roman said, taking in a deep breath. “It’s my own damn fault for not wearing proper armor.”

“I’m sorry,” Logan repeated.

“No hay necesidad de ser, luz de las estrellas,” the prince whispered softly, brushing Logan’s hair away from his face.

I can’t wait

I need a hit.

Logan blushed, shying away from Roman’s touch. “You sound like you’re exhausted, you always get flirty when you’re tired.”

“Not true.”

“I once saw you flirting with Patton’s cookie jar.”

“That was one ti-”

“And Virgil’s Nightmare Before Christmas posters.”

“Okay but-”

“And Virgil.”

“You got me there,” Roman mumbled. “But can you blame me? I was really into him at the time and you’d do the same if you had a crush!”

“Me? No way.”

“Ah, right, I suppose you are too cowardly to flirt.”

“I will literally reopen this wound.”

“Ouch.”

“Don’t test me, bitch,” Logan threatened.

“Okay, okay,” Roman laughed. “You’re not a coward.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re the romanced not the romancer.”

Logan rolled his eyes. He snapped away his cloth and bucket of water and began putting disinfectant and bandaids onto Roman’s minor cuts and injuries. “And what are you suggesting?”

“I’m saying someone should flirt with you,” Roman said.

“Oh yeah? And who’s going to do that, you?”

“If I must,” he teased with a wink, noticing the way Logan’s face turned red.

Baby, give me it.

Four

Logan was taking a lazy day. He was perfectly content to stay in bed, drinking tea and not think about Roman Sanders, thank you very much.

But we can’t all get what we want, which is why Roman came bursting into Logan’s room at that exact moment. “Entertain me,” he demanded, plopping himself into Logan’s bed.

“Roman, I’m busy.”

“No you’re not,” he said. “You have nothing to do other than entertain me.”

Logan put down his tea on his bedside table and watched in defeat as Roman wiggled until his head was sitting comfortably on Logan’s lap. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re the one who was obsessing over my wounds the other day.”

“I wasn’t obsessing-“

“C’mon, you can play Doctor and like double-check my cuts or whatever,” Roman said. “Pwease Wogan.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Logan reminded.

“And I’m bored.”

“Boredom is no excuse to intrude on my important tasks-“

“You were gonna lay in bed for the next two hours and take a nap,” Roman said.

Logan looked down, blushing in embarrassment. He mumbled under his breath, “It’s true but you shouldn’t say it.”

Roman adjusted himself, moving up and turning over so that his chin rested on Logan’s chest. “You were just going to lay around anyway, what’s the harm in me joining you? I’ll even stay completely silent if that’s what you want!”

“If your only desire is to lay around in silence, why can you not do so in your room?”

Roman looked away in shame, hiding his face in his arms. “It’s lonely in there,” he mumbled.

Logan pushed Roman’s hair out of his face, smiling softly at the prince. “I... wouldn’t mind a cuddle buddy, if that is an adequate situation for you.”

Roman’s eyes lit up as he smiled. He quickly dipped under the covers and wrapped his arms around Logan’s torso. He nuzzled his face against Logan’s chest as he tried to find a comfortable position. Logan held back the urge to laugh as Roman’s hair tickled his skin.

Instead, he tried to return to his book, and in less than a chapter, they had called into a steady rhythm of synchronized breaths and heartbeats. It felt like they were meant to be next to each other, like long-separated puzzle pieces, as Roman gently stroked his fingers up and down Logan’s arm. It was soft and quiet and just a bit domestic. And Logan wished it could have lasted forever.

He sighed, leaning his head back, his book long forgotten as Roman’s strokes got slower and slower until he was sound asleep. “Bonsoir, mon chéri,” he whispered softly, wishing for the ache of longing to stop grasping at his heartstrings.

You’re dangerous.

I’m loving it.

Five

“You’re back early,” Virgil said cautiously. The twins had been on what should have been a two week trip to the Imagination. It had only been three days, and Remus was already standing in the Core Sides’ living room, with an arm awkwardly wrapped around Roman to support him.

“This dumbass had to go and get pricked by an enchanted rose’s thorn,” Remus said as he rolled his eyes. “Hasn’t stopped talking about being hot for teacher for hours.” He tossed Roman onto the couch next to Virgil before reopening the Imagination’s door, “He’s your problem now.” The door slammed shut before disappearing completely.

“Virgil?” Roman groaned, rubbing his eyes with his palm. “Where are we?”

“We’re in the Commons,” Virgil said softly, placing his hand on Roman’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“That’s because I’m so hot,” he laughed weakly before breaking into a coughing fit.

“I’m so not equipped for this,” Virgil said. “Some help here?!” He summoned Patton and Logan, who seemed very confused to suddenly be somewhere other than where they had been two seconds ago.

“Virgil, you don’t typically summon us,” Logan said. “What seems to be wrong?”

“It’s Princey.”

“And water is hydrogen monoxide, what else is new?”

“Logan!” Patton gasped. “Be nice!”

“He’s burning up,” Virgil said quietly. “Remus said he got pricked by something. Can flowers be venomous?”

“Flowers?” Logan asked.

“It’s only venomous if it bites you,” Roman mumbled, closing his eyes and laying his head on Virgil’s lap. “Logie taught me that.”

“Never call me that ever again.”

“I’ll watch over him, you two can figure out what’s wrong,” Patton said, scooping Roman up into his arms with a shocking amount of ease. Roman clung onto him, burying his face in Patton’s neck like a toddler.

It’s getting late

to give you up.

Logan and Virgil spent countless hours trying to find any real, logical answers. Textbooks lay scattered across the room as crumpled up papers overflowed from the recycling bin. “We- There’s gotta be some way to help,” Virgil said, biting his thumb.

“Take a deep breath,” Logan reminded, hiding his own pounding heart and paranoia. “Perhaps there’s one solution we haven’t tried.”

“I don’t know if there is a solution! Remus said they had been in the imagination and- and who knows/what’s going on in that hellhole!?”

“The imagination,” Logan repeated. He jumped up from his office chair and raced across the room, digging under a pile of journals and binders. “AHA!” he yelled, holding a red leather-bound book above his head. “What did he get infected with?”

“An... an enchanted rose- Logan, what is that?”

“A scientific journal!” he announced as his eyes lit up like Time’s Square for the first time in a night of dreary hopelessness. “The Imagination isn’t a realm like any real one, so the obvious choice is to study it.”

“So, it’s, I- What?”

“I haven’t had the proper time to go and catalogue all of the flora and fauna, but Roman’s friend- er- ‘Mortal Enemy’-” He made air quotes- “was very supportive of my investigation during my brief stay as her hostage.” He opened the book and quickly flipped through the pages muttering, “Love potion, love potion, love- AHA! Found you!”

“When did you get taken hostage?”

“Virgil, that information is hardly relevant, please stay focused.”

Virgil blinked back in confusion, raising his arms dramatically as he silently asked a million questions.

I took a sip from my Devil’s cup.

“Enchanted roses are the main ingredient in love potions and, truthfully, the only one that really has any effect. Everything else is basically an antidote for the rose’s lethal toxins,” Logan explained. His face dropped slightly. “Unfortunately, there’s no cure. The potions tend to wear themselves out but only because of the curative properties of the rest of the potion. If we could... create a potion without the rose... perhaps then we could brew an antidote. But there are too many complications, it’s unlikely we’d even be able to brew the first batch before his condition gets... a- and even so, we really can’t assume that a first trial would be the best and that could make him worse if he isn’t already de- Simply speaking, we need to find the best solution that takes the least amount of time and-“

Virgil tuned Logan out as he continued rambling. He picked up a book sitting next to him, it was an aged collection of Grimm’s Fairytales with enough silver and gold accenting the cover to make it seem more like something Roman would own than Logan. Virgil took and book carefully into his hands and aimed at his target.

“-of course I only care about him for Thomas’ sake, that the logical thing here and- OW what the FUCK?!”

“That’s a dollar in the swear jar.”

“VIRGIL!”

“The book is a hint, Dumbass.”

“That’s a quarter in the swear jar,” Logan mumbled angrily.

“It’s Roman. It’s a love spell.”

“And?”

“Haven’t you seen Enchanted? Put him on a fainting couch and kiss his gay face with your gay face.”

“VIRGIL!” Logan screeched.

“You look exactly like his stupid sash, wow.”

“I don’t know what- I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re insinuating.”

“‘True love’s kiss will break the spell’ or whatever it is Roman’s always singing about.”

“Yes, well, I don’t think we can contact Ryan Reynolds to help with this issue.”

“He is hot, but you’re dodging the real solution here,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “You have feelings for Roman and you gotta suck his face to get the poison out of it.”

“FALSEHOOD!”

Virgil flinched at the sound and forced a yawn to pop his ears. “Indoor voice, please.”

“Even if I did somehow, hypothetically, have-“ he scrunched his nose in disgust- “feelings, it’s not like Roman would ever return such... meaningless chemical reactions.”

Slowly, it’s taking over me.

Too high, can’t come down.

“Are you feeling any better, Kiddo?” Patton asked, putting a fresh washcloth on Roman’s head.

“He’s so pretty,” Roman sighed dreamily, as if completely unaware of the poison flowing through his veins. “And smart too. Do you think he would let me play with his hair? And kiss him? I wanna kiss him.”

“I think you need some rest, Kiddo, you’ve been doing a lot of adventuring. And even brave knights need nap time.”

“But I don’t waaaaaant to go to sleeeeeep,” Roman whined. “I wanna keep talking about Logan. And how pretty he is. And how smart he is. And how wonderful he is.”

“You can gush more after you nap,” Patton said.

“Promise?”

“I promise.

Losin’ my head,

Spinnin’ round and round

Roman pulled a pillow against his chest and snuggled into it, quickly drifting off to sleep. Patton put a hand against his cheek as he took the washcloth, Roman’s fever had only gotten worse, and he hated to admit how much that terrified him.

Do you feel me now?

“This is a terrible idea,” Virgil said. “Like, probably the worst idea you’ve ever had. Ever. Don’t even try. Take a nap. Do literally anything else.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Logan asked, tucking the last of his books into his leather crossbody bag. He wore a long coat over traveller’s clothes that looked almost nothing like his typical wear save for the color scheme.

“Yes! Just spend some time with him holy shit.”

“Swear jar.”

“Logan,” Virgil reprimanded, his voice growing deep and echoey. “If you don't want to listen to me, fine, whatever, I don’t care, but don’t get yourself killed over something that you, yourself, said won’t work.”

“Then what do you propose instead?” Logan snapped. “Chicken soup?”

“If it keeps you safe, yes!” Virgil yelled. “Heaven forbid we actually care about your safety just as much as Roman’s.”

Logan did the last of his coat buttons and carefully tucked his bag under his arm, adjusting the strap to fit him neatly. “I’m going. I’ll use Remus’s door and I’ll find someone who can help me.”

“Logan, we need you here!”

“You need Roman!” Logan yelled. “Just... please, Virgil, let me do this. Let me do right by him.”

“You’ve really lost your mind, huh?”

“Well,” Logan mumbled under his breath as he sank out, “people do crazy things when they’re in love.”

Can you feel me now?

“Oh, and what do we have here?” Remus asked with a smirk.

“I am here to request that you grant me access to the Imagination,” Logan asked. “And that we make this meeting as brief as possible.”

Remus looked him up and down suspiciously before bursting out into laughter. “Logic going willingly into my realm? Ha! Oh Logan,” he said, pretending to wipe a tear from his eyes, “you are a riot.”

“Need I remind you that I’ve been to the Imagination before?”

“Yeah, with my brother,” Remus said, still laughing heartily. “You went because you have a massive crush, not because you actually like the place.”

“Falsehood,” Logan mumbled sheepishly. Were his feelings for Roman really so obvious?

Remus’s laughter died down but he kept an obnoxious smirk on his face. “You can deny all you want, Logiebear.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It doesn’t change that you an oblivious fucking disaster gay.”

“Just open the door, Remus. I’ve had enough of this meaningless small talk.”

“No can do, Nerdy Wolverine!” he said with a smile. “No sides allowed. Gate closed. Your face will melt clean off!” His wide smile dropped slightly and twisted into something just short of contempt. “But Roman said we aren’t allowed to melt any faces off. He locked me out too.”

“Damnit,” Logan muttered under his breath, trying to hide the disappointment and guilt spreading through his chest. If Roman’s condition got any worse, he couldn't help but feel that it would all be his fault. “I must be going, Remus. I am sorry that this was such a fruitless venture.”

He sunk out and found himself back in the commons, just outside of Roman’s room. The sound of hushed whispers and the feelings of anxiety and guilt hung through the air. He leaned against the door planning a million apologies and trying to fight back the tears that formed in his eyes at every single one of them.

“I don’t know what we can do,” Patton whispered, his voice weak, like it always had been whenever he cried. “We don’t have any ideas or- or any clue what’s happening to him.”

“Patton.”

“Virgil, I’m scared.”

“I know you are, Patton. We all are. But we can’t let Princey know that.” In the brief silence, the air grew stiff and the feelings are guilt gripped at Logan’s head and chest pulling him down like an anchor into a sea of reminders that this time he just wasn’t enough. A swirling ocean of regrets and love confessions he’d never get to make. It drove him mad.

He slowly opened the door.

“Gentlemen,” he said quietly, nodding at them as a sign of greeting. “I was... unsuccessful in my mission.”

“Oh, Logan,” Patton said quietly. Logan never met his eyes, but he did notice the way Virgil and Patton’s hands were interlaced.

“Can I have a moment with him? A- Alone?” he asked nervously. “I just... I want to apologize.”

“Take all the time you need, Lo,” Virgil said softly. He gave Logan a tired thumbs-up before leaving him completely alone with the prince.

He sat on the edge of Roman’s bed, brushing hair out of the tired prince’s face. “Logan?” he asked with a yawn, rubbing at his eyes as he tried to see the man beside him.

“I apologize, Roman, I didn't mean to wake you.”

“Yours is a face worth waking up for,” Roman said.

Logan blinked back tears but felt his face go scarlet. “Roman, I’m... sorry I couldn’t do better for you. I’m sorry for every petty fight we’ve gotten into. I’m sorry for being so stubborn. You deserve better than this.”

“Better than what, Logan?” Roman asked. “You can be an asshole sometimes, but I think that’s just another one of your charms. You’re stubborn but you’re also passionate. And brilliant. And so wonderfully handsome.”

Tears fell down Logan’s cheeks. “This isn’t you,” he whispered. “This is the poison talking.”

“What do you mean, mi corazón?”

“This isn’t you,” he repeated. “Because you could never return how I feel.”

Roman sat up weakly and Logan could see how he had grown skinny and pallid. If Logan didn’t know better he would think him to be a ghost. He placed a bony hand on Logan’s cheek and wiped away his tears. “You’re the smartest idiot I know,” he laughed. “I have loved you as the sun has loved the moon, bowing to its presence every night and watching in awe as you shine in the starlight. But perhaps you are the sun, for I am the plants, orbiting around you as you provide life and warmth. You are the universe, Logan, and I am a humble garden.”

Emotion overtook Logan’s body. His face stung as tears poured down his face and he quickly lost his composure. He found himself shaking with choked sobs, pressed against Roman’s chest. “This isn’t real,” he mumbled between weak breaths. “This is cruel.”

“Is love cruel?”

“It can be.”

“But love can be healing, too,” Roman said. He traced Logan’s jaw with his hand and ghosted his thumb, cracked and dry, over Logan’s soft lips. “Can I kiss you, Logan?”

“Are you really m- our prince?”

Roman smiled, pressing his forehead against Logan’s and looking down at the lips he had spent countless nights dreaming of. “I’ve always been yours, Logan.”

Logan’s breath hitched and he shut his eyes, afraid that if he opened them again he’d be waking up from a dream. He felt Roman’s thumb leave his lips and fall towards his neck as Roman’s lips met his.

Taste of your lips I’m on a ride.

Logan forgot about everything at that moment. He forgot about the guilt and pain. He forgot about the poison slowly killing the one he loves.

You’re toxic, I’m slipping under.

All that mattered was Roman’s lips on his. Roman’s hand against his neck and Roman’s fingers tugging at his hair in a way that drove him crazy.

With the taste of a poison paradise,

When they broke apart Logan’s heart was pounding but the bright smile on Roman’s face was infectious. Some of the color had magically returned to his face. He still didn’t look like himself, but he was no longer a mirror of death. He was the embodiment of hope. He was life.

Logan kissed him again.

I’m addicted to you.

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

+1

Over the days that passed, Roman slowly regained his strength. He was able to eat more which helped him regain the weight he had lost. The color came back to his face and within a week he was back to his peppy, annoying self. Every morning Logan counted his blessings.

“So,” Roman cooed, pointing at Virgil sitting on Patton’s lap on the couch. “When are you two oblivious love birds finally going to get together?”

“We’re the oblivious ones?” Virgil scoffed.

“We’ve been in a QPR for three months,” Patton said with his head tilted to the side and his face twisted.

“WHAT?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?”

“Virgil said it would be obvious,” Patton justified sheepishly.

“You and Logan were too busy being gay fucks,” Virgil said. “We didn’t need your chaos tainting our civilized union.”

“Swear jar,” Logan said.

“And you owe me a dollar for the phrase ‘civilized union,’” Roman added.

“Sit your asses down so we can start movie night already,” Virgil said.

“Swear jar.”

“I’m gonna shove the swear jar about your-“

“VIRGIL!”

“Sorry, Patton.”

Logan laughed, letting himself fall against Roman’s side as the movie started. With his attention completely stolen by the feeling of Roman playing with his hair (which he quickly discovered is his favorite feeling in the world) he knew he wouldn’t be watching much of the movie.

He pressed a kiss to Roman’s cheek and rested his head against Roman’s chest, letting out a satisfied hum as he listened to Roman’s heartbeat.

And I love what you do.

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

His eyes began to feel heavy and he found himself fighting between wanting to fall asleep in Roman’s arms or staying awake to spend every possible moment admiring him.

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

But when Roman caught him staring and leaned down to kiss him, he knew that sleep could wait.

Intoxicate me now with your lovin’ now.

I think I’m ready now

I think I’m ready now.

“What do you think about staying in my room tonight?” Roman whispered, trying to prevent Virgil and Patton from overhearing.

Intoxicate me now with your lovin’ now.

Logan smirked, pressing kisses to Roman’s neck and teasingly undoing the top three buttons of Roman’s shirt. “Sounds perfect,” he purred.”

I think I’m ready now.

[sonicrainicorn]

Patton is Berry Done

Part of the Berry Done AU

Words: 4092 Desc.: Logan gets drunk for the first time in his life, and Patton realizes it’s not as fun to be on the other end. TW: Alcohol, cursing, a lot of throwing up (it’s only ever mentioned tho bc ew)

The idea came to me when I was working on the one-shot that was actually supposed to be published. whoops. Hope you like drunk Logan, anyway.

///

One Friday night, Damien invited Patton and Logan over to hang out. Patton, who was very much well aware of what his brother meant by ‘hang out’, asked Thomas if he was willing to babysit. Well -- he asked Logan if he could ask Thomas. Patton was sure that asking Thomas for anything would end in his funeral. Which he understood completely. Though, if you told him last month that Thomas would genuinely threaten to break every bone in his body, he would have thought you were joking. Thomas was the nicest person he knew.

Either way, he agreed and Patton and Logan thanked him again before leaving. When they got there, Damien had already started drinking.

“Rough day at work, then?” Patton asked with a raised brow.

Damien glared at him and let them in the house. Emile and Remy were sitting on the floor, using the coffee table to play a card game. By the looks of it, Emile was winning. And by a lot. A random TV show was on that no one paid attention to. Background noise, then.

“Hi, guys,” Emile chirped. “I win again, by the way.” He flipped the dealer’s -- also known as Damien’s -- card over, nonchalantly taking a sip of wine.

In a great feat of theatrics, Remy fell back and let out a short yell. “How the hell do you win every time?”

“I told you not to play blackjack with him, but you insisted.” Damien rolled his eyes and gathered all the cards. “You should probably stop before he wins everything you own.”

“Damn bastard already has everything I own,” Remy grumbled under their breath.

Emile smiled sweetly at them.

Damien tossed the card pack at Patton, who almost didn’t catch it. “Work did suck if you must know. And I need someone to get drunk with. Remy can’t do it because they work tomorrow and Em doesn’t like to get drunk so...” He looked at Patton like it was obvious. “You definitely weren’t my first option.”

Seems someone was still a little mad. “Why don’t you just go to a bar?” Patton sat next to Emile.

“Because I want to wallow in self-pity in the comfort of my own home.” He crossed his arms. “Will you do it or not?”

“No thanks.” He started shuffling the cards.

Damien groaned dramatically. “You never give me what I want.” A buzzed middle child who was in a Mood didn’t make for good conversation, as it turned out. He turned to Logan. “What about you?”

Patton expected the answer to be the same, he had no reason to doubt otherwise, but then Logan -- Logan who took one shot on his twenty-first birthday and then never drank again, said, “Yeah, I don’t see why not”

“Oh God, yes. Finally.” Damien rushed to the kitchen with a large grin.

Patton stopped shuffling to stare at Logan with what he assumed could be translated as what the actual fuck all over his face.

It seemed to catch Logan’s attention. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You don’t drink.”

“Well, out of the two of us, I’m not the one known for doing regrettable things so I think we’re safe.”

Ooh, yikes. Yeah, that was a hundred percent called for. Patton shifted in his spot and diverted his attention back to the cards. Turns out he didn’t have any more to say.

Emile glanced between them, a small thoughtful frown on his face. He erased it with a shake of his head. “So what are we playing?”

“Poker.”

Remy sat up. “Great. I actually have a chance at this.”

“Did you want to join us, Logan?” Emile sent him a small smile.

“With the way D’s going to drink tonight?”  A sly grin slid across Remy’s face. “ I think he’ll have his hands full already.”

Right on time, Damien came charging back into the room. In his arms were various supplies such as shot glasses, vodka, tequila, and a few different chasers. He set them all on the table. “Wanna match me shot for shot?” He held up the bottle of vodka with an inviting grin.

“No.” Patton snatched it out of his hand.

He made an offended noise akin to a child getting their toy taken away. “Why not?”

“Because I know how many shots you can take and I don’t want you giving my husband alcohol poisoning.”

“Ugh, fine.” He took the bottle back. “For every shot you take, I’ll take a double.”

Patton’s, “That’s not what I meant.” versus Emile's, “You’re already tipsy.” did nothing in comparison to Remy’s much louder, “Do it bitch, you won’t.”

“Alright, bet.” He sat at the unoccupied side of the table.

Emile hit Remy’s shoulder and gave them an ‘are you kidding me?’ look. They simply shrugged in response.

“C’mon, Logan, let’s see how fast we can regret this tomorrow.” He started pouring out the first shots and chasers, eager to get started. The only time Damien was eager to do something was if it caused damage -- be it to property or livers.

Logan sighed, shrugged to himself, and sat next to Damien. Patton watched wearily as he took his first shot. His face screwed up as it burned its way down. Patton could feel the phantom burns in his own throat. Straight vodka wasn’t his favorite, but it was always common at college parties. He knew the motions well. Take the shot, let it burn -- but don’t act like it burns, then sip a chaser if there happens to be one. (Though, if there was one, it was always alcoholic.) Logan didn’t know the ‘etiquette’ of drinking well enough. He reached for the chaser of cranberry juice almost as soon as it went down.

It didn’t matter though. How you took a shot was just style points. At a party surrounded by onlooking strangers? You’re going to need maximum style points for that. At a bar with some friends? Depending on the friends, style points were still important. At home just trying to get drunk? Style wasn’t the point. Besides, Logan wasn’t a drinker so his reaction to straight shots was bound to be expected.

“Oh, yeah, this is gonna suck.” Damien took a sip of his own chaser. “Ready for another round?”

Sometime after the second shot, Logan started getting a little more touchy. He placed hands on Damien’s shoulders, his arm, Patton was sure there was even a thigh at some point. And Damien was all grins and flirty compliments. Patton knew Damien’s drunken states pretty well. He flirted with anyone that wasn’t a brother of his and generally had his charisma cranked up to ten. On the flip side, he also acted like moody a sixteen-year-old. So, really, drunk Damien was just sober Damien with even less of a filter. Logan’s drunk states, on the other hand, were new territories.

By the third shot, Logan was mostly giggles. He and Damien tried to have their usual debates (also known as a normal conversation for them), but they dissolved into Logan laughing over something vaguely related and Damien testing out a pick-up line based on the topic. On the fourth, Logan kissed Patton and called him “the most beautiful man in the world”. Damien got comically offended and insisted that Logan was breaking his heart. Logan laughed, cradled Damien’s face, and called him beautiful too. As soon as the fifth went down, Logan was completely plastered. He put all his weight against Patton with a loose hand around Damien’s wrist. He started talking about how great everyone was, though he struggled to find more than three adjectives and slurred all his words.

“Nope, that’s enough.” Patton tried to take the bottle out of Damien’s hands when he went to pour another shot, but he couldn’t move with Logan at his side.

Remy took the initiative. “Unfortunately, I have to agree. Logan can’t handle anymore.”

Damien pouted and put his head in his hand. “Boo.”

“That actually took a bit longer than I expected,” Emile admitted softly.

“Yeah -- damn, Logan.” Remy put the cap back on the bottle. “For someone who doesn’t drink you sure held out for a while.”

Logan held up a peace sign.

“Okay, I think we better get going.” Patton lifted Logan to his feet. It was a bit harder than it sounded due to Logan’s apparent lack of bone structure. He refused, or maybe simply couldn’t, move or stand on his own. He kept all his weight on Patton the whole time.

“I think that’s a good idea.” Emile wrangled another bottle out of Damien’s hands. “Stop. Any more and you’ll be asking Logan to marry you.”

Damien snorted. A lazy grin slithered on his face. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

Patton frowned, holding Logan a little closer to his side.

Emile sighed -- an annoyed, almost aggressive sound. “Yeah, okay. Come on. We’re done for tonight.” He dragged Damien into the kitchen, ignoring how he almost face planted.

“Ignore him.” Remy shook their head like a disappointed parent. They gave Patton a small smile. Not a grin or a smirk -- a gentle, genuine smile. “Anyway, want some help? Seems like you could use it.”

“That would be nice, actually.”

Logan clung to Remy like a koala to a tree almost as soon as all his weight was transferred over. Right away he started saying all the great things he thought about them and the good things they did. Remy just nodded and agreed while gently coercing him into a better walking position. Patton silently apologized and opened the front door.

On the short walk to the car, everything Logan said was followed by a soft, “I know, Logan.” or an, “Uh-huh.” much like someone would do when they’re half-listening to a child while focusing on another task. Patton would argue that the comparison was more than apt since most of the stuff Logan said seemed to be the first draft.

Patton opened the passenger side door and Remy helped Logan in. They went to close the door, but stopped when Logan said, “I love you.”

They laughed, borderline composed giggles, and responded, “Love you too, pal.” They shut the door. Logan waved at them through the window, and they gave him a little wave back. “Wow, he is fucking trashed.” They turned to Patton with a wide grin. “I’m surprised he’s still conscious.”

“Guess we’ll see how long that lasts.” He looked at Logan, who gave him a bright beam. “I should go before his body realizes he hasn’t thrown up yet.”

“Oh, yeah. Drive safe.”

“Will do.”

Almost as soon as Patton got in the car, Logan blurted out, “If you could drive straight up at sixty miles an hour, it would take an hour to get to space.”

Patton didn’t even have the door closed yet. “W... what?”

He repeated it a little slower, though that seemed to leave a lot more room for errors and slurring. “If you could drive your car up-ards it would take an hour to getta space.”

He blinked. “That’s, uh, that’s really interesting, bumblebee.” He shut the door. “Could you maybe put on your seat belt before telling me more facts? Unless you need some help.”

“M’not five.” Despite his statement, Logan struggled with the necessary coordination for an absurd amount of time. After failing to get the buckle in the right spot (following an embarrassing number of attempts), he gave up with a small pout. “I can’t do it.”

Patton smiled a bit. He looked like a grumpy toddler. “Let me help, hon.” He buckled him in.

Once they started driving, Logan did not stop talking. He told Patton he loved him five different times, asked nonsense questions followed by silly answers, and pointed out whatever he saw looking out the window. He also insisted on having a hand near Patton at all times despite Patton saying he needed to focus on driving. He was so much more open and bubbly and touchy -- very touchy. A near 180 of sober Logan.

They only had to stop for him to throw up on the side of the road once, which was a lot more impressive than the first time Patton ever got drunk. At least from what friends told him. He didn’t remember anything about that night, but he was told that he threw up several times before ever reaching his apartment. To be fair, he was eighteen at the time and trying to impress someone cute. He didn’t remember if it worked or not.

After his little vomit issue, Logan was a bit less energetic. Understandably so. Throwing up always sucked. But throwing up after a night of drinking was even worse. It didn’t stop him from saying how much he loved Patton, though.

When Patton pulled in the driveway, he cursed under his breath. He forgot about Thomas. With Logan drunk out of his mind and extremely pliable, there was no doubt Thomas’s protective older brother instincts would take over. Patton tried to figure out what to say that wouldn’t result in his head on a pike.

“Come on, hon.” He helped Logan out of the car. Once again, all of his weight was against Patton. “Your brother’s gonna kill me for this, isn’t he?”

There seemed to be a magic word in there that caused Logan’s energy to return tenfold. A large grin split across his face and Patton could have sworn there were stars in his eyes. “Thomas is here.”

Okay, Logan getting excited to see Thomas was actually pretty cute. Patton smiled. “Yeah, baby, Thomas is here. Did you wanna see him?”

Logan nodded, almost cartoonish in nature.

“Let’s get inside, then.” While Patton wasn’t at all prepared to see Thomas, he couldn’t deny Logan what he wanted. That would just be cruel.

He struggled to open the door with Logan hanging off of his arm, but he managed. Thomas was laying on the couch watching Parks and Rec on a low volume. His attention diverted from that rather quickly. Almost right away, he was on his feet to reach Patton and Logan. Patton didn’t know why he was surprised. He had to admit that it was a little obvious Logan wasn’t his top-notch self.

Logan detached himself from Patton and all but collapsed into Thomas’s arms before anyone had a chance to say anything. “Thomas,” he said, a little too loud, “you’re amazing. You’re the best -- best brother I could ever ask for. And I... I love you so much.” He squished Thomas’s face with his hands. “I apre... pre-shate all you ever done. You’re so ‘mazing. I owe you so much. You a’ways make me ‘appy a-and you stick by me no matter what. You’re -- you’re just really great.” He gave him a tight hug.

Thomas stared at Patton, dumbfounded. “What... did you do to him?”

Patton held his hands up in defense faster than he could blink. “This was his own doing. I played no part in it.”

“Damien and I took shots,” Logan answered, partially muffled by Thomas’s shoulder.

“You did what?” Thomas pulled him away to look at his face. “How many did you take?”

“Five,” Patton answered. He knew full well Logan lost track.

“Five?” Thomas struggled to keep his voice down. He cradled Logan’s face. “Logan, you don’t drink. What are you doing taking five shots? Shots of what?”

“Mostly vodka.”

If Thomas’s eyes could get wider, they would have. “Vodka? Straight? Dude, how the hell are you still standing?” He checked over Logan as if the answer would be there somehow. “Why would you do something like that?”

Logan shrugged. “Damien wanted’ta get drunk.”

Princess Leia wandered into the living room, shaking herself out of her sleepiness. Her tail wagged as soon as she saw that her other owners were home.

Logan gasped loudly. “There’s my baby.” He fell to his knees to give her attention. “You’re such a good girl. Yes, you are.” He continued to coo and give her pets and scratches.

“I’m... I’m gonna scream. I’m going to actually scream.” Thomas ran his hands down his face. “There’s no way I’m leaving.”

“Leia, no. Go back to the boys.” Patton pried Logan away from her. “Go. Now.” He pointed out the doorway.

She obeyed after visible hesitation.

Patton worked on lifting Logan to his feet. “Look, I’m going to keep an eye on him. You’re free to stay if you want, but I promise I’m going to make sure he’s okay.” He kept him at his side. “I won’t let anything happen to him. He’ll be fine if you leave.”

Thomas crossed his arms. Patton recognized the face he made almost immediately. It was the same one Logan made when he weighed all possible options. That hard, calculating gaze was something they shared well. “Fine. But I’m calling first thing in the morning.”

Holy shit. He actually agreed? This was the greatest achievement of Patton’s life.

“If I find out anything happened, I’m pushing you down a flight of stairs.”

“If anything happens, I’ll fall down the stairs myself.”

Thomas smirked a little. “I’ll hold you to it.” He patted his pockets to see if he had everything. “Alright. The twins were lovely, as usual, and I look forward to the next time I get to see them. Goodnight -- keep my brother safe,” he pointed at Patton, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Logan sounded like a sad little boy who was told he couldn’t get the one toy he wanted for Christmas.

Thomas sent him a small smile. “I’m afraid so, bear. Patton’s going to be looking after you, okay?” He brushed Logan’s bangs to the side and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you later.”

Logan watched him go with the most disappointment Patton had ever seen on his face. He half expected Thomas to change his mind because of it.

“Okay, sweetheart, we’re going to get you some water then you’re going straight to bed.” He led them to the kitchen.

Unfortunately, Logan had to throw up one more time. Or a few times, rather. That seemed to be the end of the fun alcohol adventure. Patton made sure he was finished before giving him more water. On their way to the bedroom, Patton was stopped by a sleepy voice.

“Dad?” Roman called. He sounded half-asleep. “S’everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Your daddy’s just a little sick. Go back to sleep.” He made sure there wouldn’t be any more questions before continuing. He closed the door to the bedroom so Leia wouldn’t get in. As much as Logan loved to have her in here, she wouldn’t be very helpful.

He helped Logan into a clean shirt and guided him to bed. “I’ll be next door if you need something, okay, dear?” He slipped off his glasses. “Get some sleep.”

“Don’t.” Logan caught his wrist before he could leave. “Can’t you stay?” He looked at Patton with such vulnerability it sort of hurt to see.

“Only if you want me to.”

“Please.”

God, Patton couldn’t say no to that face. He slipped into his side of the bed for the first time in way too long. Of course the one night he’s allowed back is the one night Logan isn’t fully cognizant of his actions. In a way, it was almost poetic.

Logan buried his face into Patton’s chest almost immediately. He sighed in contentment, one arm thrown over Patton’s waist for good measure.

Patton hesitated before bringing him closer. The anxious part of his brain insisted that Logan would somehow snap out of this and scream at Patton to get away from him. After all, Logan didn’t invite him back sooner for a reason. But that didn’t happen. Logan seemed more than happy to be so close.

“You know,” he began, already sounding sleepy, “I love you a lot. Maybe too much. You could hurt me all you want and I’d still take you back. If you say sorry. And maybe that’s bad, but I think that’s what I would do. I love you too much to let you go.”

Oh, no. Oh, Logan. Patton kissed the top of his head and tried not to break down into tears. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. He hoped, maybe, it was some sort of drunken nonsense, but he had a sickening feeling it wasn’t. He hated knowing this. He hated knowing that the crap he pulled -- that stupid, idiotic mistake that broke Logan’s heart -- wouldn’t have been the nail in the coffin of their relationship. As angry as Logan was, as upset as he was, he always planned to give Patton a second chance. It wasn’t comforting to know that.

If Patton was a lesser man than he already was, he would have used that to his advantage. He would have screwed Logan over, again and again, knowing he would be able to come back if he acted sorry enough. But someone already did that before, didn’t they?

Patton didn’t want to be anything like that person. He wanted to be as far away from them as he could get because Logan deserved someone so much better than that. Maybe the person he deserved wasn’t even Patton at all, but Patton was the person he chose. The least he could do was be a good husband. Logan deserved that and a million more things. He deserved to think more highly of himself, for one. One problem at a time, though, the most immediate problem would be the hangover tomorrow.

Patton woke up with a start. 

For a moment, he didn’t believe he was in his bedroom, but then he recalled the night before. He didn’t remember falling asleep. He still had his clothes and glasses on. Then he noticed he was alone. Before he could come up with a possible scenario, he heard throwing up in the bathroom. Uh oh. It wasn’t even morning yet.

He hurried down the hall. “Are you okay, bumblebee?” He asked from the doorway.

Logan glared at him from his hunched-over position. That answered that, then.

“Is Daddy okay?”

Patton turned to see Virgil, asleep on his feet. “What are you doing up?”

“I lost rock paper scissors.” He yawned.

“Daddy isn’t feeling well tonight. He’ll be fine --” he caught himself before he said ‘tomorrow’. There was no way in hell Logan would be functional tomorrow -- “later. Now go back to sleep. I have it handled.”

Virgil didn’t need to be told twice.

Patton sat with Logan until he finished throwing up. He knew from experience what a miserable time this was, but that also meant he knew how to make it more manageable. He gave Logan things to settle his stomach then practically carried him back to bed. They both fell asleep in no time at all.

When morning came, Patton called out of work. He also called Thomas to take the twins and Princess Leia. There was no way he was leaving Logan’s side today. Judging from the late-night vomiting, and heavy sleeping, this would be a rough first hangover. He decided to sit in bed and scroll through random apps until Logan decided to wake up.

“Oh my God,” Logan groaned. He rolled over so his face would be in his pillow.

Patton couldn’t help the smirk that played at his lips. “Well, good morning, sleeping beauty. How do you feel?”

“I think I’m dying.”

“I can assure you you’re not.” He put away his phone and laid back down. “It’s just a hangover. You’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

Logan groaned again. He moved his head to look at Patton. “How do you never feel like this after drinking?”

“Years of practice.”

“Oh, well, I’m definitely not getting that.” He flipped over and threw an arm over his eyes. “That’s the last time I drink anything ever.”

Patton smiled in amusement. “How much do you remember?”

“Honestly? I blacked out after the second shot.”

“That explains why you kept going.”

Logan shot up, eyes wide. “I kept going?” That clearly wasn’t the right move. He grimaced and curled in on himself, a wounded sound leaving his throat. “Why the hell didn’t you stop me?”

“Do you really think I’m in a position to stop you from doing anything?”

“Fair point.” Logan laid back down as slowly as possible. “God, this is the worst.” He bumped his fingers against Patton’s.

“Well,” Patton took his hand, “I’m here to help you through it.”

~~~

@actitus-hypoleucos

[what-the--curtains]

Braving the Elements

Chapter 5: Training day

TW: Possible PTSD, burns, fighting (friendly)

Authors note: shout out to the very few people following this you guys are the real MVPs!

Song youre listening too when the boys enter

When youre sparring with Sam

You awake to a high pitch beeping of what you can only assume is an alarm clock. “Fuck off” you yell putting a pillow over your head before tossing it in the general direction of the sound. You let it beep for another minute before climbing out of bed. Feeling defeated, you find the alarm and turn it off cursing when you read the time. 6:30AM. You stretch your arms up over your head causing various bones to pop and squat down over the pile of clothes that you had left on the floor the day before. You pick up a pair of grey leggings and a matching sports bra. Pulling them on before reaching down to grab an oversized t-shirt that you throw on to conceal your figure. You really hated it when people ogled you at the gym. You put on a baseball cap and pull your hair through the back opening, tying it up in a ponytail with an elastic. You walk into the kitchen and over to the island where Wanda and Nat are sitting. Grabbing some toast you turn to join the conversion at hand. “Odds someone tries to explain to you how to use weights today?” Nat asks, biting down into a bagel.

“I’d wager pretty high.” you respond still slightly groggy.

“Very high!” yells Shuri from another room causing you all to snigger.

“How are you all so awake?” you ask

Handing you a coffee Wanda replies, “ Well as you know crime doesn’t sleep!” Rolling your eyes you fill up your water bottle. Shuri walks into the kitchen and hands you a phone

“Here all employees need them, and if you need anything just ask Friday he’s linked up to all the systems in this building”

So that's the bastard who woke me up, you think to yourself.

“This is great, thanks Shuri!” you say as you admire your new possession. You down the rest of your coffee and head off to the gym, getting there at 7 on the dot.

No one was there yet so you plug in your headphones and stretch for a few minutes before starting on the punching bag. Your back’s facing the door and you’re blaring your music so loudly that you fail to notice Bucky and Sam enter the room laughing about something.

“Someone’s early.” Sam says in your general direction. No response.

“Guess she’s not a morning person?” He says. Bucky shrugs, dropping his bag on the floor. Sam walks over to you placing his hand on your shoulder. Startled and without thinking you grab his wrist and throw him to the ground. Realizing who you had just slammed into the ground you begin to apologize profusely while removing your headphone “Shit Sam, I’m so sorry I didn’t hear ya come in!” you exclaim, pulling him up. He gives you a disgruntled look before turning to Bucky, who has been in a fit of laughter since Sam hit the ground.

“Shut up man! She caught me off guard!” As the two friends argue you couldn’t help but notice how amazing Bucky’s body was. He was in joggers and a muscle shirt showing every curve of his perfectly sculpted arm. How the hell were you supposed to focus with someone so muscly walking around? I mean seriously he’s built like a Greek god! Whose ogling now you think chastising yourself for objectifying him.

“Well I can promise that’s the only one your gonna land on me kid” Sam states as you follow him onto the sparring mat

“Alright kid, hit me with your best shot!” You dance around each other for a bit. He swings first. You lean back to avoid contact, he swings again and you duck somersaulting behind him. You jump on his back and pull him down using your weight. Your side slams into the mat first, but you quickly get Sam face down on the mat pushing your shin bone down on his back keeping him in place. You smile relishing your win before looking up just in time to see Bucky’s steel blue eyes dart off you and back to the pull up bar.

“Alright, alright,” Sam says “not bad let’s see if you can do it again.”

“I’ve already done it twice” you remark, pulling him up.

“Don't get cocky now.” Sam retorts. The two of you banter back and forth for a bit before squaring up for the second round. You swing first this time. Sam blocks it easily, and grabs your arm, twisting it behind your back. You stomp down on his foot causing him to release you. You’re about to turn back to face him when you catch a glimpse of Bucky doing chin ups. You zone out for a second, mesmerized by the way his arm muscles clenched as he pulled his weight up. Unfortunately, your little daydream gave Sam just enough time to press his foot into the back of your knee and flip you down onto the mat.

“You know you're gonna have to get used to that. His muscles look just as big in his get up.” Sam says quietly enough so only you can hear him.

“Shut up!” you say, sticking your tongue out at him as he helps you up. You square up for the third round. You swing first again, he ducks and puts you in a headlock. Then, all of a sudden, you're back in that room with Romans hands wrapped around your neck, feeling helpless. You can sense the anger rising in you. Before you can make sense of what’s happening you connect your hand with Sam’s bare arm burning him.

“Ow! Fuck! No powers allowed!” Sam shrieks pulling you back to reality. Looking down at his arm he continues to yell

“I’m RUINED!”. The commotion causes Bucky to walk over “What the fuck?” he says noticing the slightly charred skin on Sam's arm.

“Sam, i'm gonna need you to calm down and let me fix it!” You reach for his water bottle removing the liquid and lowering it onto his now, medium rare arm. You move the water from side to side and slowly the cells begin to regenerate until the blistered flesh is completely healed.

“There.” you say putting the water back into the bottle “All better now drama queen?”

“How did you do that?” Bucky asks evidently amazed.

“Charles taught me how to do it, I used to accidentally burn lots of people so he said least I could do was heal them up afterwards!”

You pull Sam up

“Alright” he says “I think that's enough sparring for today, and remind me not to drink outta that bottle. Let’s go see if you can light the weights on fire.”

“Rude.” you says before following Sam over to the squat rack

“So, you ever seen anything like his arm?” Sam asks hoping to get a rise out of you. Bucky rolls his eyes returning to his workout.

“You know I used to know a guy made of metal” you respond coolly, much to Sam’s dismay.

“Exterior?” Sam asks

“No interior all his bones were metal, well I guess I also knew a full metal guy and hey! He’s Russian do you know each other?” you shout over to Bucky who's moved on to bicep curls.

“C’mon not all Russians know each other.” He huffs.

“Well I just figured that metal people may have some kind of support group!” this comment causes him to crack a small smile

“So what’s the coolest power you’ve ever come across?” Sam asks as you do your squats.

“Well there was this guy, named Darwin, who could literally adapt to any scenario…” Just then Shuri walks in.

“Hey workouts over, I got your suit ready come check it out!”

“Yay!” you say in pursuit of the princess.

“So what’s she like? Fighting wise?’ Bucky asks Sam

“Why are you so interested tin man?” He responds.

“Fine, keep your secrets” Bucky says holding his hands up in surrender and returning to the weights.

“It’s weird, she fights like she’s invincible. I can’t imagine the toll it takes on her body. She literally slammed her side onto the floor so she could get the upper hand on me! It was insane.”

“Shit,” Bucky laughs “sounds like you kinda liked it.”

“Oh please like I didn’t see you staring at her from over here while she beat me up!”

“Maybe I was staring at you?” Bucky responds and Sam rolls his eyes

“Here” Shuri said, showing you the blue, black and gold suit she had designed for you. “Amazing!” you say under your breath before high fiving the princess. It was full body spandex like Natasha’s, but with a scoop neck and exposed arms. Shuri brought out two gold arm bands that went half way up your arm. “These convert humidity in the atmosphere into water so you can have unlimited access to it. I've also installed lighter fluid so you can make flames any time you want.”

“Awesome” you say, testing out the arm gadgets on two nearby dummies.

“ The suits are also designed to keep you cool so you don’t accidentally flare up and burn someone.” she explains handing you a belt with various attachments for ammunition and two leg attachments with holsters.

‘This is amazing Shuri! Thank you!” you exclaim hugging her. “When do I get the guns for these holsters?” you ask

“Not until you're cleared by Tony.” she says

“So never then.” You say

Ignoring your last comment Shuri continues “ If there’s anything wrong with it let me know and i'll fix it! Looks like I finished it just in time. Suit up! you’ve got your first mission to get to.”

[twilightbimbo]

Solstice pt 1: Twilight AU

This is an expansion of the Twilight universe with my OC characters!

                                    home is where the heart is

                                    and i’m afraid

                                   i’ve lost my way

Samson

“Why do you think you’ll win? I know when you’re bluffing,” I chided, laughing. Esther rolled her eyes with mild amusement. Esther is the most competitive one in our family and she always tries to best me in poker, despite the fact that I have the gift for sniffing out inauthenticity. 

“‘Cus you suck at poker,” Esther pulled up the corner of her lips in a slight smirk and laid out her winning hand. 

“Har har,” I huffed in frustration. I felt my eyebrows furrow as I realized what was happening. “You assholes!” I exclaimed. Suddenly, the cards of Esther’s winning hand became fuzzy and resembled a glitching computer monitor and then smoothed out into her true, losing hand. I looked up at Esther who was nearly hysterical, tears in her golden eyes from laughing and clutching Chip’s arm. 

“Sorry, brother,” Chip smiled softly and brushed a lock that fell out of Esther’s bun and brushed it behind her ear. I booed loudly and pushed the deck of cards off the dining table between Esther and me in mock anger. 

“Clean that up, Sam,” Sunny said to me without even looking in my direction as she walked past with a basket of laundry. Sunny liked to blend in more than the rest of us. “Keeps us humble,” is one of her favorite phrases. Sunny is the matriarch of our family, even though she is the youngest of us. Technically. 

“Sam, if you couldn’t cheat, you would be terrible at poker,” Stella yelled from her upstairs bedroom. Stella didn’t need to yell, she could even whisper it and we would be able to hear her. But, Sunny forces us to act human at all times, even in our own house. Where no one can see us. Or hear us. Sunny’s word is law. 

Nathalia 

If I was human, I would be panting from running this hard and far. Actually, if I was human I couldn’t run like this at all. I still let air rush in and out of my lungs naturally, tasting the forest around me. I had been feeling the urge to see the ocean lately. I miss home. But, I can’t go back there for a lot of reasons. Mainly because it’s always sunny down there. So, the Oregon coast is perfect for my needs, it’s overcast here the majority of the time. And it felt familiar here, the beach was always a constant for me until I died.

 I have been on the run for three years. That is so dramatic to say, but it’s true. I’ve been through nearly all of California, eastern Oregon, and about every rural area in Washington. I haven’t been around the general public in what seems like forever. If forever means three years and three hundred and sixty-two days. I’ve missed normalcy. I’ve missed being able to call a place my own. I miss belonging to something.

The trees began to clear as the river widened and gray light bled between the branches above as they became more sparse. I slowed down into a more relaxed jog, my damp hair starting to cling from my shoulders all the way to the small of my back. I relaxed my pace completely as I could see the river desperately reaching the ocean, letting my bare feet sink into the mossy and wet forest floor. I walked slowly until the ground turned into sand. I tilted my face up towards the sky and let the gentle rain kiss my face. 

The waves crashing is familiar and it eased some of my longing. Longing? God, I’ve become so pretentious. In my human life, I couldn’t stand being alone for longer than hours and now I’ve gone years. I guess loneliness changes you. 

While I was roaming in Washington, I heard there were vampires who tried to pretend to be humans and go to school and stuff. I was transformed only a year after I graduated high school and I didn’t get the chance to go to college. I had my eyes on the University of California, Los Angeles. But, here I am. Not alive, but also alive. On a beach. In the middle of fucking nowhere. 

“Hey! Aren’t you cold?” A voice called out to me from down the beach. I’ve been practicing for this. I turned my head slowly, trying to be careful of the speed of my movements. I looked down at myself briefly. I was wearing a thin, gray sweater with jeans. And barefoot. It’s probably in the low forties right now and getting colder. So much for attempting to blend in. I looked back at their direction and while I was definitely too far away, I smiled tentatively at them. 

“Got thick skin!” I yelled back, shrugging. The person behind the voice was an older man, the wind carried his scent towards me. I could smell the warm blood and as he slowly approached me, I could hear his faint heartbeat. It would be too easy. In half a second I would be right in front of him, pushing his head back to expose his neck. His red cap would fall off and in my frenzy, I would probably tear apart his windbreaker. Blood on the sand. My eyes red. 

Nope, nope, nope. I’ve gone three years without tasting human blood. I’m not going to fuck this up now. I turned on my heel and went back to the forest, as soon as I was certain I was covered by the thick swarm of trees I took off sprinting. 

Where am I supposed to go now? I need to get better clothes to blend in. I need to find a place to live. “Live”. To be frank, I had it pretty easy. I never had to worry about this kind of stuff. In the distance, I can hear cars sporadically driving on the wet pavement. If there are cars, there are people and if there are people, there are clothing stores and libraries. I changed my direction in order to run parallel to the highway giving myself about a half a mile distance between me and the road. 

It wasn’t much longer, maybe twenty miles or so before I saw neon light tinge the fog and the smell of car exhaust got stronger. Smelled disgusting. I thought about how I would be able to wander into some random mom and pop shop to get clothes without sticking out. I’ve been practicing my self control but it’s much easier when I hold my breath. How can I go without talking to the small town locals without seeming like a bitch? I guess the only thing I can do is hope what they say about first impressions isn’t true. 

Luckily enough for me, the river, which had dwindled down to a creek, ran close enough to the highway so I could wash my feet and legs so I could look less dirty and homely. Unfortunately, about every person I passed stared at me. Everyone has dressed appropriately for the wintery beach weather. Except for me. 

The first clothing shop that looked like it could have clothes for people “my age” and nearly completely empty was the first one I walked into. I bought nearly everything. Well, bought is a loose term. It was about four days after my transformation that I realized I had an ability. A “super talent” he called it. If I want someone to do something I want, they do it. It’s never something intense like falling in love with me or giving me their kidney or anything like that. It’s small stuff like if I want their approval I got it. If I want their coffee, they hand it over. Small stuff like that. 

The shopkeeper handed over around six hundred dollars in merchandise with a bright smile on her face. I made a mental note to make an anonymous donation as soon as possible. Sometimes I felt bad about swindling people, sometimes I felt like it was a necessary evil. A girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do. 

It wasn’t that hard finding the library after the shops, and lucky for me, the librarian allowed me to stash my shopping bags behind her desk. The public computer whirred to life slowly, I could practically hear the viruses worming around. I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking for, or even where. I tried local listings, Craigslist, even some dark web shit. It wasn’t until I caved and made a fake Facebook account that I was able to find a single bedroom apartment to rent. 

The man who owned the place was rather kind. I hardly had to use my ability to sway him to let me live rent free for the next foreseeable future. His name was Ernie and he had quite the beer belly and a bald spot on the back of his head, reminding me vaguely of a freshly cracked egg.  I assume that he felt quite flattered that I was flirting with him. Actually, it could have been the innate human experience of being my prey who is inevitably lured to his death by my inhuman womanly charm. Who could say?

The apartment was painfully small but fully furnished. I couldn’t say if it was fully furnished as a part of the lease, which I did not have, or my newfound landlord was just too caught up in our conversation. I’ve been told I dazzle people. Whatever that means. A large full length mirror hung in the bedroom and I took a full look at myself for the first time in a long time. 

My dirty blonde hair was a mess. I think I can see a dread forming in the curly mess. My black eyes peered back at me in disbelief, how could I let myself go like this? Dark circles clung around my eyes covering the splatter of freckles on my face, I looked like I hadn’t slept in weeks. More like years, I chuckled to myself. I need to feed soon. An uncommitted corner of my mind thought aimlessly about what animals are in my vicinity. The other portion of my mind looked back in the mirror. I still was pale as before, still more beautiful than I ever was as a human. It’s weird, feeling this conceited but it was true. My very nature was to lure humans in, even more so with my ability. I can get humans to literally lay before me, neck exposed. But, I promised myself a while ago to never feed on humans again. 

This place was definitely not intended to be left fully furnished, a laptop laid on the desk in my new bedroom. I realized I never learned about this town before I decided on it. The ocean picked me. I wiped the laptop and set it up under my preferences. This time, password protected. My google search reminded me I’m currently in Brookings, Oregon. I had made a mental note earlier when I saw the welcome sign out of the corner of my eye on my way into town. 

Oh, perfect! I exclaimed internally. There is a local community college that happened to offer marine biology courses. Marine biology was my intended major before this happened to me. Maybe this is a sign. Maybe I’m being an idiot and making stupid choices by surrounding myself with humans. But, honestly, I’m lonely and I don’t think I can take this punishment much longer. 

Part 2