#which is also why I started giggling when I made parts of his outfit robotic and shiny looking

[art-is-kayos]

Resident of Metropolaris Ayin

I also like this version

[helenaheissner]

Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 26

Kate

“I have an idea,” I said to Nadine. We were in the garage part of Gaines’ facilities, and we had the place to ourselves. Nothing but us, my robot, and the smell of oil and grease. I wore a simple, practical outfit that day- a pair of jeans and a buttoned-up pink flannel. It was almost staggering how many pink articles of clothing I’d acquired in the past month, but I wasn’t exactly complaining. It just… Made me happy. A way to signal who I was, who I was becoming and who I’d always been. Yeah, it was a stereotype, but I didn’t care. It was what I liked, and there was nothing wrong with it. 

Nadine put her camera down. “Run it by me.”

“Cheerleader.”

“Go on.”

“That could be my gimmick.”

“Intriguing. Whose cheerleader?”

“My own, I guess,” I said. “What do you think?”

“Would you dress like one?”

“That would be the idea,” I said. “I don’t think I would start until next year tho- by then, my boobs will have grown a bit, hopefully.” I gestured to them, or to the lack of them, and managed to accidentally tap my chest… 

… At which point, there was a small sting, a little bite of soreness. 

They were coming. The hormones were working. 

I could have cried, but instead, I danced. 

Faith’s lessons had been paying off, and I found myself flailing around my robot with a slightly greater degree of coordination than I normally would have. Nadine started snapping her digital camera. “Good. Good. Keep doing that.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you might actually be able to pull this whole cheerleader angle off. I’d get a few more dance lessons first, though,” Nadine said. 

“Okay, duly noted,” I said, giggling and brushing the hair out of my face. Really needed to do something about this. I’d scheduled a salon appointment for that day, though, so this would be less of an issue then. 

Hopefully they’d be able to accomplish what I was asking them to do. 

That was when Gaines stormed in, a hulking wall of muscle with a throbbing forehead vein and an utter dearth of chill. “Hi, ladies,” he grimaced. “How’s it going here?”

“Good,” I smiled. 

His scowl deepened. 

“Yes, boss?” Nadine asked. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’m only gonna ask this once: who’s idea was it have Ms. Calloway stand in front of a trans pride flag and post it on our social media with the caption ‘trans rights are human rights?’”

Nadine opened her mouth, but I cut her off. I couldn’t let her take the fall for me, not after she’d helped me so much. “It was my idea, sir.”

They both looked at me and blinked rapidly. “Was it, now?” Gaines asked. “Because I’ve lost a dozen members in the past week because they aren’t comfortable with our current direction.”

“That was always going to be a risk, sir,” I pointed out. “You knew what you were doing when you agreed to keep being my sponsor.”

Nadine looked ready to faint. I was pretty sure she’d stopped breathing. Couldn’t blame her- Gaines was fuming so hard he was sucking all the oxygen from the room. “I see. Well, I suppose that’s true. And I suppose it’s also my fault for not checking my own feed. But tell me- why should I keep sponsoring you if you’re going to keep doing something that will alienate potential clientele?”

I bunched my fists and clenched my jaw, but the anger flowed out of me just as soon as it came. I didn’t need it. There was only one thing I needed, and that was confidence in myself, in my abilities, in what I was doing and my ability to get it done. “Because I’m gonna win you a championship, Mr. Gaines.”

“Are you now?” Gaines said, cocking (I could hear Faith laughing from however many miles she was from here) one of his massive gray-brown eyebrows. 

I stood up straight, unclenched my fists, breathed in and out, and looked him square in the face. God, he was buff. He could crush me if he wanted to. Literally and metaphorically. But I knew people like him, how they thought, what they responded to: force. Strength. Grit. “Yes. And when I do, everyone will shut up. People will stop caring about whatever bias makes them not like me, and they’ll see a champion, plain and simple. And they’ll come to you to get the parts of a champion, to get their vehicle fixed up in a place where a champion built her robot.”

“Will they?”

“Yes. They will. People don’t care about you ‘represent’ if you’re winning. They only care that you’re winning. And I’m gonna win big this year. Sir.”

He squinted, pointed at me with his comically large index finger… And threw his head back and laughed. “Alright then, girly- if you say so. I like your gumption, I’ll give you that much. Here’s the arrangement, then- you bring me a championship trophy, and I’ll stick with you. I’ll even give you an increase on your stipend. But you come up even an inch short? You’re done. Find a new sponsor. Capiche?”

“Capiche,” I affirmed, extending a hand. 

We shook, and I kept eye contact the entire time. 

Finally, Gaines turned around. “Nadine?”

“Yes, boss?”

“Keep up the good work. Whatever you’ve done, you’ve done a fine job of it.”

“Uh… Thanks, sir,” Nadine said. 

He was silent for the rest of his exit from the garage. A moment passed by before Nadine looked at me and said, “Are you crazy?!”

I shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“I think I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t think you’re being in any way overconfident?”

“Oh, I’m being grossly overconfident,” I said. “But it was either that or lose my sponsor right before the tournament starts.”

“Fair enough. I just… I like working with you. You seem like a good person, and I don’t want to see you get cut loose.”

I smiled at her. “Thank you. I like working with you too. But, uh, one thing at a time, yeah?”

She smiled back. “Yeah. So, should we finish up this shoot?”

“Yes, please,” I said, throwing my hair back. 

***

I stepped into the salon in Manhattan Beach, the peach and violet scents of shampoo and conditioner combining with gentle lights at the chairs and the warm hum of dryers. Seabreeze from the nearby ocean drifted in and cooled the place lovingly while offering its own calming aroma. A shapely Latina with dyed red hair wearing an orange knit-dress stepped forward over the black linoleum floor and said, “Hi! Are you Kate Calloway?”

“Yup! How’d you know?”

“I’m Ronda, your mother’s stylist. You look a lot like her.”

“Aw, thank you,” I said, trying very, very hard to maintain eye contact in spite of my own exhaustion. The encounter with Gaines had left me a lot more emotionally drained than I’d been expecting, but I wanted to be polite. Women came to salons and felt an overwhelming surge of sororal solidarity, so I wanted to feel that too. “Might be even more true after today.”

“Oh yeah, I got the picture you sent me,” Ronda said, guiding me into a chair with a wash bin behind it. “You sure you wanna go for it? You’ll have to come back tomorrow so we can finish it off, and it requires a ton of upkeep if you want to maintain it long term.”

“I know,” I said, sitting in the chair and leaning my head back into the basin. “And I want to go for it anyway.”

Ronda smiled at me with big, cherry-red painted lips. “Bold. You really are your mother’s daughter, aren’t you?”

“Hm. Well, I try to be.”

“Well then let’s get started,” Ronda said, turning on the faucet. 

The warm water collided with my hair and scalp, and the stress and anxiety were immediately washed away. “Let’s.”

***

A day and a half later, after the sun had begun to set over the city of Angels, I rushed downstairs at the sound of our doorbell ringing. The long hem of my pastel pink, short-sleeved floral dress swayed around my freshly-shorn legs in a manner that made me giddy. A smile crept onto my perfectly painted face. I knew who was behind the door, and I couldn’t wait to see how they reacted to my new look. 

I pulled the door open. 

Zeke- in a black button-down tucked into his tight-fitting jeans, his hair messy and his stubble grown out into a slight but very sexy beard- and Faith- clad in casual white and blue sundress with a lovely little cleavage window parked up front- waited on the other side, and they both took one look at me and gasped. 

It was exactly what I’d been hoping for. “Hi. What do you think?”

“You’re blonde,” Zeke said, eyes wide as saucers. 

“Bleach blonde,” Faith said, blinking rapidly. 

“Platinum blonde,” Zeke said, grinning appreciatively.

“Marilyn Monroe blonde,” Faith said, naked lust permeating her voice.

“Well, I was going more for Miranda Calloway blonde, but I’ll take it,” I smiled, playing with a loose strand of my platinum waves. “Do y’all like it?”

“I love it,” Zeke said instantly. “You look super hot. Not that you didn’t before, but-”

“This looks more like you,” Faith finished for him.

“Thank you,” I said, putting a hand over my chest, sending another shockwave through my tender breast bud. Ow. I’d have to get used to that. 

“I just can’t believe you really went for it- that could have fried your hair!” Faith said. 

“What’s life without a little risk?” I said, unable to keep my smile at bay. “Besides, I think it turned out well.”

“It did, it did, I just… God, you’re so cool,” Faith said, grabbing both my hands and pulling me close.

I blushed beat-red and gave her a peck on the lips. “No, you’re so cool.”

Faith gulped and scrunched her face in protest. “No, YOU’RE SO COOL-”

“This is very cute and all, but I can feel the cold air getting out of Kate’s place, so maybe we should head out,” Zeke chuckled. 

“Sounds good,” I said. I turned back and shouted, “Mom! Dad! I’m heading out! I’ll be back late!”

“Have a nice time!” Mom called from upstairs. 

And with that, and a kiss for both of my beloveds, we were off. 

We drove all the way to Hollywood and found ourselves at a small bar with loud music playing. There weren’t too many patrons, so we had the dance floor to ourselves. And dance we did, with the display serving as my latest lesson. 2000s pop-punk music sounded all around us, and I let myself get lost in the sway of my hips and the feeling of Faith’s arms around me, of holding Zeke’s hands while he spun me around and dipped me, of slow dancing with all three of them. 

I raised my phone up high when the three of us were all pressed together and said, “Smile!”

And they did, and I took the photo, and the memory was forever secured. 

And then, shock of all shocks, I did something incredibly stupid: I posted it on social media. It seemed like a benign idea at the time. It really did. 

***

The morning rush came into the shop like a flood the next day, an endless deluge of shoppers looking to get kitted out. I used the opportunity to work on my voice, to practice my gentler mannerisms and more gracious personality. The customers definitely noticed- I closed more sales that day than I had in ages. I got a few ‘sirs’, sure, but almost all of them apologized as soon as they said it, and the others did so after I corrected them. 

All was going well, until the consequences of my reckless actions walked into the shop in the form of Olivia Root. 

I did a double-take when I recognized her, clad in a dark red sundress that hugged her ample hips and equally ample bust, with hoop earrings dangling from her lobes, makeup immaculate, and natural hair long and bouncy. She was unaccompanied by her teammates, carrying only a canopy shoulder bag over her arm. She wandered around the shop, looking at different dresses, finally pulling a sleeveless turquoise number off of the rack and taking it into the changing room. 

She stepped out, clad in the dress, looking even more stunning now than she had before. She walked up to me at the register, my parents both on the floor talking with other customers, leaving me alone with a woman I’d called out and challenged on live television. 

Sometimes I look up at the sky and ask ‘Why, God? Why did you make me so fucking stupid?’ 

At least now I could call myself a dumb blonde in earnest.

“I’d like to buy this dress,” Olivia said, looking at me plainly. 

“Good choice,” I said, looking down at the register. “It looks nice on you.”

“And I’d like to have a word with you,” Olivia said. 

“Whatever about?”

“Faith.”

“I don’t think she would like that.”

“Then work.”

“Well, I’m currently at work. This is one of my jobs, believe it or not, and I’m on the clock. And I already took my break an hour ago,” I said, furiously punching the keys on the cash register.

“Then after you clock out,” Olivia said. 

I shook my head, still not looking up as I ran her card through the swiper. “That’s not for another hour. And you’ve already bought something, so you’ll have to buy more stuff. Otherwise you’re loitering. Which is a misdemeanor, for which you can be fined-”

Olivia sighed, very slightly. “There’s a coffee shop down the road- I’ll hang out there. Meet me inside when you’re off work. And thank you for the dress- it’s honestly quite lovely.”

“My mother made it,” I said, handing her a receipt.

“Well she’s very talented, then,” Olivia said. She took the receipt, and she turned around and left. 

I spent the next hour locked into tunnel vision, trying desperately to focus on my work, on the swelling tide of customers that came without end. As the rush died down, however, my impending meeting became an all-consuming presence in my mind. I stood behind the front desk, drumming my fingers on the wooden surface, actively having to think about not biting my pink-polished fingernails. 

I pulled my phone loose from my purse on the floor and typed out a furious message to my partners during a free moment: “SOS Olivia came in and she’s demanding to talk to me!”

Faith was the first to reply: “WUT!”

“She’s waiting at a coffee shop down the street for me once my shift ends.”

“You’re not gonna go, are you?”

“IDK.”

“Don’t. Go.”

Zeke chimed in: “maybe she should go.”

Faith: “No, that’s a terrible idea. Olivia will eat her alive.”

I said: “I’m not scared of her, you know.”

“I’m not saying you should be, I just can’t imagine what she even wants to speak with you about,” Faith replied. 

I said, “Work. And you.”

Faith: “... I don’t like that.”

Zeke: “I don’t either.”

I typed, “I’m not crazy about it myself. But I think I should at least try to apologize.”

“For what?” Zeke asked. 

“Calling her out like I did.”

Zeke: “That was just you playing the heel. And you’ve changed.”

“I don’t think she’s aware of that, y’all.”

“... Dammit. Kate’s right,” Faith said. 

“I am?”

“Yes, you are. Olivia and I used to complain about you all the time last year. Like an ouroboros of self-indulgent bitching.”

“I don’t know what to do with that statement,” I typed. 

“... I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I typed. “I’ve changed. And I’d like Olivia to see that.”

“... Text us the address?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I typed. 

“I’m with Kate on this one,” Zeke replied. “Olivia might not accept Kate’s apology if we’re there. It might seem like we forced her to do it.”

“Good point,” Faith said. “Can we at least come over and wait on stand-by? And that way we can all hang out when you get back?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” I said. 

“Please stop texting at work, Kate,” Dad said as he walked by carrying two massive cardboard boxes under his arms. 

I blanched and put the phone back in my purse. “Right. Sorry.”

The remaining fifteen minutes before I clocked out lived and died a slow, painful demise. Finally, it was over, and it was time to have a talk with my girlfriend’s ex. 

“Where you heading?” Dad asked as I slung my purse over my shoulder. 

“Gonna meet a… Colleague,” I said, my voice going flat and deep. I winced as I heard it. “Is it alright if Zeke and Faith come over in a little bit?”

“Hm? Yeah, that’s fine,” Dad said. “We’re probably just gonna do pizza tonight, honestly. I assume you want your PB&J?”

“Yes please,” I smiled. “Just be sure to get a different one, too. Faith isn’t crazy about the spice.”

“Duly noted- she can share a barbeque chicken pie with your mother,” Dad said. “Also, are you alright?”

“Hm? Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem… A bit jittery today, Katie,” Dad said. 

“I… Ask me that again later?” I said, standing in the front doorway. 

“Okay,” Dad nodded. “Be safe.”

“I will be. Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too.”

He was right, though. There was something I’d been avoiding, something I hadn’t wanted to address but which I was becoming increasingly concerned would be an issue. 

What would happen if I had to face Faith and Zeke in the battle box again?

As I walked down the street, the hot sun and cool seabreeze hitting me all at once, the question gnawed at my stomach lining. I loved being with both of them. And I liked being the person I was now: cute and blonde and happy and sweet and girly. I didn’t miss the guy I’d been: a posturing meathead who never shut up and had no concept of personal space or boundaries or any self-awareness whatsoever. And I didn’t think that having Faith and Zeke as my rivals last year had turned me into that person- I’d been that already, before we’d fought. But… 

God, I didn’t want to backslide. I didn’t want to turn back into that guy. And now I was going to confront someone who had been at the epicenter of that guy’s last notable public appearance. Someone who thought I was still that person, who probably thought I was going to backslide at some point and hurt someone who she really cared about. 

If I didn’t want to be Keith anymore, I had to prove it. To myself, first and foremost.

Breathing steady but heartbeat elevated, I moved forward. I had to do this. Had to do this. Had to prove it to Olivia. If I could prove it to her, I could finally prove it to myself.

I approached Hal’s Coffee Hut, a ramshackle building with a tile roof and brick walls on the corner of a busy intersection. Glass tables and wooden chairs sat gathered under umbrellas outside the establishment, while tinted windows kept the baking light from getting inside. I opened the door, which gave the ring of a bell as I stepped inside to the aromas of percolating coffee and fresh pastries inside a heavily air conditioned facility. 

In a metal chair, at a wooden table, atop the black linoleum floor, nursing a glass of cold brew and a blueberry muffin, Olivia Root sat waiting for me. 

She stared at me, blinking only occasionally as I walked up to the counter and ordered myself an iced Americano and a cinnamon roll. I maintained eye contact with her as I waited at the pick-up section for my drink, tearing sections off my pastry. Finally, a glass of cold coffee was thrust into my hand and I sauntered over to the table where she waited for me. 

“You changed your hair,” she said. 

“I did,” I said, running my hand through a loose section of it. I was still getting used to seeing light blonde locks running down my shoulders and chest when I looked down. But I liked it. I liked the new me. And I’d be damned I could be cowed or provoked into not being that person anymore. Had to do this. Had to prove myself. “I needed a change.”

“Been making a lotta changes lately.”

“I have,” I nodded. 

“You and Faith looked awfully cozy in that picture you posted last night.”

“You follow me on Insta?”

“I follow all the competition,” she said. “Same goes for other platforms.”

“That’s certainly…”

“Certainly what?”

“Dedicated.”

“Was that what you were originally going to say?”

“Yes,” I said. 

“Uh-huh.”

“Why do you care, exactly?” I said, trying to change the subject. Easy, Kate, don’t provoke her, and don’t get angry. You can do this. Just have a civilized conversation with someone who openly hates you. No problem. 

“I care about Faith,” she said. “I don’t want her to get hurt. She told me about what happened, about you pressuring her into confessing to Zeke-”

“Pressure is a very strong word,” I said, monotone anger beginning to infect my voice. 

“Sure it is,” she said. “I guess I just wanna know: what kind of game do you think you’re playing here, Calloway?”

“Uh… Competitive robot fighting?”

“Don’t get cute with me.”

“You think I’m cute?” I said, smirking, squinting, raising both eyebrows. 

“Don’t do that,” she glared. 

“What, be witty and charming?”

“Distract me. Avoid the topic. What kind of game are you playing with Faith and Zeke?”

“Um… There’s no game?” I said, barely understanding what I was being asked. “I’m just in a happy, committed relationship.”

“With which one?”

I flinched. Oh. Right. This wasn’t something we’d exactly gone public with. Because… We’d been afraid that… Something… Like this would… Would…

“You gonna answer the question? Or should I take your silence as an answer?”

“Both. I’m dating both. And they’re both dating me,” I said. “And they’re dating each other.” 

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“No, I’m being entirely sincere right now,” I said before taking a long sip of my coffee. 

She stared at me, hands flat on the table. “Is this a fucking joke to you?”

“In what regard?”

“Them. Both of them. You seriously don’t see what this looks like?”

“I guarantee you that I don’t,” I rolled my eyes. Seriously, what was this jackass on about?

“You’re shitting me-”

“I don’t know if you’ve picked up on this, but I’ve historically struggled with a lack of self-awareness. So perhaps you’d be so terribly kind as to explain to my dumb blonde ass what the fuck you’re on about?” I said, frustrating starting to seep into my conscious mind.

“You’re playing with their hearts,” Olivia said. “Toying with them both in order to take down the competition from within.”

I blinked a single, sustained blink for something like fifteen seconds, my jaw dropped so far it might’ve dislocated. “Excuse you?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Calloway. You may have those two fooled, but you I see right through you.”

“You’re insane,” I glared. “You think I’m some kind of supervillain, when in reality I’m just an idiot who somehow lucked into a relationship with two amazing people.”

“God, you really buy your own bullshit, don’t you?” Olivia said. 

“Because it’s not bullshit. It’s the truth. I like them both,” I said, bunching my fists together. She thought I was… She thought I was freaking honey-potting the competition! What the hell- who would do such a thing?!

“And the fact that this would make it harder for them to fight you again if it comes to that is just a bit of good luck?” Olivia said. 

“No, it’s bad luck, because it’ll be just as hard for me,” I said, the anger beginning to rise, only to slam against the ceiling of my willpower. I wasn’t going to get angry, not at her, not in public. I just couldn’t believe she really thought I’d... 

“I won’t let you hurt her more than you already have,” Olivia said. 

“Funny, I could say the same thing about you,” I snapped, slamming my hand on the table. “Because you hurt her real badly. You ripped her heart out and tore it into a million fucking pieces. There are times where I still see her struggling to piece it back together. But Zeke and I care about her more than enough to help her with that.”

“Should’ve known you couldn’t get through this conversation without screaming,” Olivia said. 

“I’m not screaming!” I said. Then I blinked again, and realized everyone was staring at me. Because I’d screamed. “I’m not… I’m not the monster you think I am, Olivia,” I said, forcing myself into a quieter volume. The anger began to dissolve, boiled away by the cold fire of my shame and dysphoria. I’m not that person anymore. I’m not.

“However badly I hurt her,” Olivia said, “It’s nothing compared to what you did. She used to rant about you for hours, about how annoying you were, how much you’d embarrassed us, how much we were all looking forward to ripping that smug fucking smirk off your face. She dreaded having to deal with you, and so did I, because just looking at you would ruin her day.”

I blinked again. A tear fell out, shattering on the table. Did I really… Did she really?

“And you’re crying, like the fragile little baby you are,” Olivia rolled her eyes and scoffed. “That’s really all it is with you: you’re a child, desperate for attention. So desperate for Faith’s attention that you harassed her into thinking she likes you after you stole Zeke from her. The fact that you think you can get away with this is sickening. The fact that you think you can flaunt this farce of a relationship in front of everyone is equally sickening. You disgust me, Keith Calloway.”

I stared at her, wide-eyed with shock, my deadname knocking the wind out of me. 

“I bet you’re not even really trans,” Olivia said. “You just wanted the attention Faith was getting because of her transition. You’re an insult to trans people, just like you’re an insult to our sport. And if I have to kick your ass in the battle box to stop you from dragging Faith down with you, I will. But honestly, given who you’re up against this week, I probably won’t even need to. Gregson will put you in your place like the obnoxious little boy you are. I’ll see you at the arena, Keith. Have a nice day. And thanks again for the dress.”

Her words were like daggers, each sentence a stab wound. She got up and left me there, without even my rage for company. It was gone, out of reach- where was it? And why couldn’t I move or speak or do anything but count the tears that were falling from my eyes. It shouldn’t hurt this much. 

It didn’t used to hurt this much. 

I buried my face in my hands and wept, sitting there for what felt like hours. The emotional wounds festered and stung, and I hated how much I thought she was right. I was a travesty, an insult, a bad person, a fake trans girl. If she was wrong, I’d have been able to fight back, keep my anger, use it. Do something instead of cry. And cry. And cry. And cry. 

“Um… Excuse me, Miss?” a slender black barista with dreadlocks tied back in a ponytail said to me while holding a slip of paper. “Your friend said that you would be paying for her food and drink?”

I looked up at him, sure I was in a state with my red eyes and horror show of makeup. 

“You know what? It’s on the house,” he said, offering me a weak thumbs-up.

***

Eventually, I managed to force myself to my feet and hauled my stupid, disgusting, fake body back to the store. I lumbered into the back and stormed past my mother talking to Faith and Zeke in the hallway. 

“Katie?” Faith asked, concern I’d done nothing to warrant plain to see on her perfect face. “What happened?”

“What did she do?” Zeke growled. 

“Kate,” Mom started. 

I stormed past them, silently, and went into my room and slammed the door and locked it. 

I flopped onto my bed, my newly-blonde hair falling into my face. I didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve any of this. I rolled over and looked into the vanity mirror we’d brought into my room recently, and stared at myself. I was disgusting, a perversion, a degenerate travesty, an insult to trans women everywhere. I ought to just hack my hair off, wipe away the runny makeup, put back on the boy clothes I deserved to wear. 

But the thought of that… It was like imagining bathing in sewer water. It made me feel like weeds were growing out of my skin. It made me feel like hiding away in some deep dark corner of unreality and never letting anyone see me again. I couldn’t go back to being Keith. I didn’t want to. 

But what if I wasn’t really trans? What if I really was just a freak? What if I just wanted attention? What if I was just trying to take down the competition by playing some kind of cruel game?

“Kate?” Zeke and Faith both called from the other side of my door. 

I laid there for a while, the room spinning as I slipped further and further away. 

“Please open the door, Kate,” Mom said.

Mom. She and Dad… They believed me. They saw the best in me. And maybe they were biased because they were my parents, but… Maybe there was something to it. 

I rolled off my bed and hobbled over to the door and pulled it open a crack. My partners and my parents both were all there, all slumped with concern like they were sharing my pain. 

“Hi, guys,” I said weakly. 

Mom started, “Katie, what’s going on-”

Faith yanked the door open and wrapped her arms around me. I gasped as she impacted, stunned that she was giving me surprise-hugs all of the sudden. 

“I don’t… I don’t deserve this,” I said. 

“Yes, you do,” Faith said, squeezing me tight. 

“But I’m… I’m not really trans!” I moaned. 

All four of them gaped at me. Finally, Faith said, “What the fuck did she say to you?!”

I explained why as Faith wiped the runny makeup off of my visage and applied moisturizer, then kept explaining as she and Zeke led me to the dining room. My parents had set aside a glass of water for me while my mom cooked spaghetti on the stovetop. 

“And that’s what happened?” Zeke said, sitting on the couch with my dad. Dad was just angrily fiddling with his abacus, looking ready to pop a vein from sheer rage. 

“Yeah,” I said, sitting at the kitchen table while Faith stroked my arm. 

“Unbelievable,” Zeke said, fists balled. 

“But she’s right, I’m an insult to-”

“No,” Faith said simply. “You’re not. Nobody fakes being trans, Kate. Nobody does that to get attention. That’s not a real thing. And even if they did, nobody would go as far as to start taking estrogen. Olivia only thinks that because she knows literally nothing about the topic.”

“Then why does it hurt so much! Why did her words-”

“You’re on estradiol and spiro, sweetie,” Faith said. “It’s like that.”

“It’s… That’s all?”

“Yeah. You’re gonna cry more. And more. And more and more and more. And you’re gonna find yourself becoming less aggressive. That’s normal. It’s just how the HRT works.”

“Oh,” I said quietly. “But what if-”

“Kate, if you were honey-potting us, you’ve been doing a terrible job at it,” Zeke said blandly. “Someone doing that would try to play Faith and I against each other, make us think we had to compete for you. You literally offered to get out of the way so Faith and I could be together at one point.”

“And I should still-”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Zeke said. 

“You really shouldn’t,” Faith said. 

“This is correct,” Dad said. 

“Mm-hm,” Mom intoned. 

“You… You really don’t think I’m… A bad person?”

“No,” they all said. 

“You don’t think I’m an attention whore?”

A bit of incoherent murmuring came out of each of them as they all babbled at once, but eventually Faith’s voice rose over the others: “A little, yeah. But like… That’s not always a bad thing. And you’ve been doing a much better job keeping that in check lately.”

“... Did you and Olivia really used to rant about me for hours at a time?” I asked, barely squeaking out the words I feared the answer to. 

“... Yes,” Faith said, breaking eye contact. “But I’m not proud of that. Yes, you were obnoxious, but I took it WAY too personally. It wasn’t okay. And Olivia and I fed into each other on that. Honestly, we fed into a lot of each other’s worst habits.”

“Oh yeah, big time,” Zeke said. 

“You know, you could have tried to call us on it at the time,” Faith said flatly. 

“Would you have listened?” Zeke said. 

“... No, probably not,” Faith shrugged. “And Olivia definitely wouldn’t have.”

“Yeaahhhhh, that’s what I figured.”

“Look,” Faith said to me, “You can’t let her get to you.”

“I just don’t know what to do with all this,” I said, raking my hands through my hair. Oh, my hair. My beautiful blonde hair. I couldn’t believe I’d been considering hacking it off. “I’m glad I didn’t lose my temper. I’m glad the anger didn’t take over. But… Is this who I am now? I am gonna break down crying every time an insult hits close to home?”

“No,” Faith said with a reassuring smile. “The hormones are overwhelming you right now, but you will get used to them in time.”

“And it doesn’t have to be forever,” Mom said gently, pouring the cooked pasta into a drainer and stirring the marinara and sausage sauce with a wooden spoon. Guess she decided a home-cooked meal was what I needed. “There’s such a thing as feminine strength. You’re allowed to stand up for yourself. You just need to figure out how to do that in a way that feels right to you. In a way that feels right for the woman you’re becoming.”

I gulped, and I nodded. Zeke came over and sat opposite me, and I leaned into his strength. So tough and rugged. And I held Faith close, feeling her strength as well: her iron will and steadfast perseverance, her ability to keep going and always find a way.

“You’ll never be perfect,” Faith said. “But you are getting better. And it’s been amazing, watching you blossom.”

“Thank you,” I sniffed. 

“You’re strong, Katie,” Zeke said. “And you’re brave. You just need to accept that. That’s the first step to being able to stick up for yourself. You’re worth it. And we care about you.”

“We all do,” Dad smiled. 

“Amen,” Mom said as she served me a plate of pasta. 

I felt myself starting to cry again, happy tears this time. I wanted to fight against it, hold it back like I used to. But… 

But that wasn’t real strength. Hiding from how I felt, that wasn’t me. That wasn’t the kind of strength I wanted. I was someone who could be honest about how she felt. And who was strong enough to show it to people. And that was okay. 

So I cried my happy tears while I ate my home cooked meal with the people who saw me for who I really was and who I was becoming. Who saw all that I’d been and all that I could be, and who wanted to be there with me as I moved forward. 

And move forward I would.

***

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[cellsshapedlikestars]

Robot Jon! ☺️

(ok, I've been off tumblr for a few days, but I went on early this morning and had an ask with a bunch of prompts because I said I'd be taking a break from my Bachelor fic - which is true, if not for another 3 chapters yet. I haven't answered that ask because I'll lose it and therefore the prompts, but it reminded me that I still had two prompts left from when I asked for them back in... December? I'm the worst. Anyway, I re-looked at those prompts, saw this one, and then couldn't stop thinking about it. So I'm coming out of my vague tumblr hiatus to write this.)

Thank you, as always, for the prompt!

.

Sansa has never liked amusement parks.

The sun that always burned her, no matter how diligent mom was about reapplying sunscreen; the fried food that always made her sick; the crowds and the noise and having to walk everywhere. But the worst part was the rides – oh, she didn't mind some of them, like the Ferris wheel or the teacups; she could even handle the swing ride. The problem was that the rest of her family wanted to go on the horrible rides – roller coasters, haunted houses, swinging ships; the ones that go fast and drop you from a million feet in the air. And since it was hard enough wrangling the amount of children in their group to begin with, it was impossiblefor one adult to split off with Sansa, who alone wanted to ride the gentler ones.

And so, it's sort of ironic that she works at an amusement park now.

She may not have a taste for most of the rides in the park, but she is good at designing them – not the actual rides, but the aesthetics of them. It's her (and her team's) job to come in after the engineers and the builders and take a bare-bones ride and turn it into an experience. She loves her job – she loves watching children exit one of her rides with glowing faces and excitement in their eyes.

Today, she also gets to do one of her favorite aspects of the job, which is costume design. The animatronic models have already been installed, and when she enters the new Dance of Dragons ride, she can already see the scene taking shape in her mind. The concept art has already been drawn up, it's already being advertised – a medieval world that everyone knows is meant to capitalize on the stunning success of the Aemon the Dragonknight series (which her employer does not own the rights to, much to their dismay). But concept art is one thing – reality is another, and it's not until the ride is complete that she can start to truly see it come together in her mind.

“Oh good, you're here,” Margaery Tyrell sighs dramatically as she comes to meet Sansa's team. Margaery is in charge of Marketing and PR for this ride and Sansa knows it's a big responsibility, so she's been even more high maintenance than usual. Margaery walks her through the ride that Sansa has seen so many times in drawings.

“This is our Aemon,” Margaery slaps a hand against the shoulder of one of the animatronic models. “Although we can't call him Aemon. Copyright and all that.”

Sansa looks at the robot and she's struck for a moment how lifelike he is. A lot of the animatronics aren't this detailed, though she guesses this one is because of how close to the ride it is.

“He's handsome, right?” Margaery flashes her a grin and there's something in her eyes that Sansa can't quite place. (Well, she can, it's mischief, Sansa just can't tell why it's there.)

“I guess, in the way that cartoons can be handsome,” Sansa laughs and takes another look at the model – the somber grey eyes, dark curly hair, and an equally dark beard. “You even gave him abs,” she points down at the robot's chest which does, indeed, have a very detailed set of abs. “Am I supposed to leave him shirtless?”

“Oh, no, obviously we want realism, like we talked about,” Margaery waves her hand dismissively. “We just couldn't help ourselves when we put in the order.” Sansa shoots her a confused look, which only gets a delighted laugh out of Margaery. “I'm guessing you don't recognize him?”

“Recognize who?”

Margaery gestures at the animatronic. “Jon!” At Sansa's blank stare, Margaery rolls her eyes. “Jon Snow?”

The name sounds familiar and it takes her a second to place it. “The engineer?”

“Duh! Seven hells, don't tell me you've never actually seen him?”

Sansa shakes her head – she usually comes in well after the engineers have done their part.

“Mormont let him take the lead on this project and he's so... ugh,” Margaery makes a noise that's half frustration, half delight. “So serious all the time. But somehow likable? It's infuriating, really. And no one should be that attractive for a nerd.”

“So... does he know you made him into a robot?”

“He does not,” Margaery grins. “We're all just dying for him to come in for an inspection and see it. In fact,” she pulls out her phone and checks the time, “if you wait around for a bit, you'll get to see it happen.”

Sansa shakes her head and they continue on through the set, Sansa writing down notes in her trusty notebook that she always carries with her. Lists of costumes, set pieces. She'll need to bring in Asha later to discuss the lighting options (right now the dark ride is lit with spotlights, giving the whole place a surreal atmosphere).

Margaery eventually leaves her to it and Sansa loses herself in going over the set inch by inch with Gilly and Mya following along with her. She's so lost in thought that Mya has to shake her arm to bring her back to reality, and they turn to see a group of what has to be engineers standing in the main Great Hall set.

“Oh come on, Jon,” Margaery is giggling as a man who must be Jon stands, staring at the animatronic. He's scowling at it, hands tight around the pile of binders in his arms that are... well, ok, Sansa can understand now why Margaery made the robot so well muscled.

Sansa edges closer to the scene, and she can see that his fellow engineers are laughing – one of them is red-faced from trying to hold it in while another is actively wiping tears from his eyes.

“It's already made,” Margaery says in response to whatever Jon had grumbled to her. “Replacing it would be an irresponsible waste of funds. Oh! And here's the team that will be styling you... I mean, styling not-Aemon because that's copyright infringement.”

Jon looks up and the scowl drops from his face.

“This is Sansa, Mya and Gilly are over there.”

“Hi,” Sansa greets and Jon shifts his binders into one arm and then holds out his hand for her to shake (she can feel her face heating up and she hopes the dark hides it). “I promise to try and do you justice.” She regrets her words immediately, especially when she sees a slow grin spread over Margaery's face. “Though it doesn't totally look like you,” she continues on to try and backtrack. “It... doesn't have glasses?”

She wants to sink into the floor in embarrassment, but the gods are not that kind. At least she doesn't spout out how much she likes his glasses. Maybe Margaery is right – no one who clearly cares so little about their appearance should be this attractive. His beard needs a trim, his outfit is painfully unstylish, his hair is pulled back into a bun. All of it should add up to something she hates, but she just... doesn't.

(And honestly, Margaery's description of nerd isn't so far off the mark, but Sansa finds this isn't a detriment – in fact, she might be more attracted to him because of the glasses and the multitude of thick binders organized with labels and tabs that he's got tucked under his arm.)

“I'd also hope real Jon isn't built like a Ken doll,” one of the other engineers barks out a laugh and points at the animatronic, which, yes, does not have any reproductive anatomy.

“Gods,” she hears Jon whisper, and the hand that he had used to shake hers comes up and covers his eyes. “This is a nightmare.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Margaery sighs and pats him on the shoulder. “Now, why don't you take Sansa around and make sure she's really taken care of, hmm?” At the words, Sansa feels her face heat even further and Jon drops his hand from his eyes and glares at Margaery. “I just mean,” Margaery grins, not even trying to pretend the innuendo wasn't on purpose, “it might help the design if she has a good understanding of the mechanics. I know there's some new things on this ride we haven't had before, you could show her.”

Jon opens his mouth, but doesn't get a chance to speak, because Margaery barrels on. “Sam, Grenn, you can chat with Gilly and Mya while that's happening. And I... well, I'll just be over here, minding my own business.”

With that, Margaery walks away and the other two engineers – Sam and Grenn, she guesses – head over to where the rest of her team stands, watching from afar.

“You don't have to,” Sansa starts, but Jon quickly turns from glaring at Margaery's back to her and his face settles into something less... scowly.

“I don't mind,” he says quickly and maybe it's the low lighting in here, but she thinks the tips of his ears are red.

“Perfect,” she gives him her best smile, which seems to throw him even more off balance and... and she thinks she could get used to throwing Jon Snow off balance.

[lazuliitathewaifu]

𝒞𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇𝒶

a/n:  English is not my first language so if there’s anything wrong, please, let me know.

➵ 1-A x GN! Reader (Platonic)

➵ Synopsis: Your 1-A classmates find your camera and decide to see what's in it.

➵ Warnings: None

➵ Note: I saw some tik tok videos about it, it has a reference to shifting. You are from the real world visiting your favorite animes. I hope no one has ever done this, and if you already did, i didn't see it, sorry. 

━━━━━━━━━ ★

Most of the 1-A students were together in the dorms' main hall, talking and having fun. Except (Y/N), since they had gone out to buy snacks

Suddenly Sero came with a camera in his hand, that camera belonged to (Y/N).

"People! Look, I found (Y/N)'s camera!” Sero placed the camera on the small table in the center of the room.

“Oooohhh! Let's see what's in it! ” Mina spoke excitedly taking the camera and starting to use it.

"Yes! Let's go! ” Denki sat closer to Mina to look at what's on camera.

“Are you sure guys? Wouldn't that be an invasion of privacy? ” Momo, being the most sensible one there, wanted to defend her friend's privacy.

"Yea! That's not nice to do with your classmate!" Iida exclaimed doing those robotic movements with his right arm.

"I mean, (Y/N)-san always carries this camera and they've already shown us some videos that they made of us." Uraraka placed her forefinger on her cheek remembering when (Y/N) showed the girls' videos at the sleepover.

"Yes true." Tsuyu agreed with Uraraka

"I-I guess it won't be a problem so… I'm a little curious too…" Deku muttered the last part under his breath.

“Enough of the bullshit let's see this already! I need to go to sleep!" Bakugou yelled irritably, without patience.

"It's not our fault you sleep so early, Bakugou." Mina spoke looking at Bakugou.

"Shut up raccoon eyes!" Before Bakugou started releasing explosions in his hands, Todoroki started to speak.

"Can we just see?" Todoroki's voice surprised some people as he doesn't speak much, but it soon passed.

"Okay, I'll see here." Mina fiddled with the camera and saw that the photos were separated by albums. "They are separated into albums, there are some very strange names here..."

“Shingeki… no Kyojin? What is this?” Sero asked and Mina clicked on the album, several photos and videos started to appear.

“Have you guys got tired yet? Keep going! Give me content! Hahahah” 

The voice of (Y/N) could be heard from the video that showed two teenagers who appeared to be the same age as them.

"They seem to be the same age as us..." Momo spoke softly but loud enough for the others to hear.

"Yes... (Y/N)'s voice is also the same, it's as if they were there at the same time as here."

There was silence in the group until Bakugou said something.

“Don't be stupid Deku! Clearly the place where they are looks old and has no technology at all.”

"So how does (Y/N) keep the same voice?" Uraraka asked.

"Maybe their voice didn't change when they grew up." Tokoyami spoke and Dark Shadow nodded beside him.

"Yes, let's just keep watching." This time Mina clicked on an album that says ‘Haikyuu’.

“You all look beatiful! The jackets fit really well! It's time to show that Karasuno has wings!"

"Wow they are cute!" Hagakure broke the silence by waving her arms, which was actually just the clothes that showed.

“They seem to play volleyball. So manly!” Kirishima spoke with a comical tear in the corner of her eye.

"Let's keep seeing!" Denki talked excitedly taking the camera and clicking on another album called ‘Naruto’.

"Do I really have to wear this?" A male voice could be heard on the video.

"Yes and if you don't I will put a maid's outfit on you muahahahahah!"

They continued watching some other videos until a certain album caught Deku's attention.

“What is this album? Boku… no Hero?” Denki followed his advice and clicked on the album.

"Ooohhh this album only has our video and photo!" Uraraka spoke excitedly.

"Let's see, let's go!" Sero spoke urging Kaminari on.

"Okay, okay."

"Fufufu... looks like a lost puppy." 

(Y/N)'s speech made them laugh and Bakugou started screaming.

"I DIDN'T LOOK LIKE A PUPPY!" He yelled, explosions appearing in his palms.

"Let's see some more!"

"My God, what a drip!"

"Ehhh, even I felt that..."

"Midoriya-kun, are you alright?!" Iida's voice can be heard in the video.

"I don't think he can have kids now." (Y/N) spoke in a mocking tone with a giggle at the end.

"My God! Todoroki smiled! Run to the mountains! The world will end!” (Y/N) yelled in sarcastic despair and Todoroki's old smile turned into a confused face.

"I still don't understand why they said that..." He spoke in his usual monotone.

"Day 1 being held captive by the League of Villains. I want to get fucked by this hottie." She pointed the camera at Dabi.

“I don't see anyone stopping you.” He smirked and a sigh was heard in response.

“My, my. I see that it's not just your hands that are on fire.” A chuckle was heard in response.

In this video there was no audio but in the description it was written 'My heroes.' the group can't help but smile at this.

Before they continued to watch more videos the door was opened revealing (Y/N).

"Hey guys, what are you… doing…" They looked at the camera in Kaminari's hand and then at the surrounding group. Some had a surprised look, others an interested look but mostly confused looks.

“(Y-Y/N) we can explain-” Before Deku could finish speaking Bakugou cut him off.

"No! I want an explanation!" Bakugou was angry but the confusion was bigger, as (Y/N) had videos on this camera with other people of the same age, as if they were in several places at the same time. They had another peculiarity and hid it just like Deku hid his? And everyone knows that he hates secrets.

(Y/N) just stood there not knowing what to do, this is going to be a loooong conversation.

━━━━━━━━━ ★

a/n: oof, sorry if the ending was horrible, i didn't know how to end this :/

(мαsτєrℓisτ)

[escapewithbts]

Wedding Date - Seokjin

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

"I still can't believe I agreed to do this," your best friend Kim Seokjin said from the bedroom next to you.

You chuckled as you carefully applied your second layer of mascara in the bathroom mirror.

"Mmmm have I told you how much I loooove you, Seokjinnie?" you cooed, popping your head out from the doorway to flash him a big smile.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes but smiled.

 "I'm going to need to hear it way more, you know! You owe me big time!"

He turned his body toward you as he pulled his navy blue suit jacket on over top his crisp white button down shirt.

 "So how do I look?" he asked, putting his long fingers out in a heart shape accompanied by a sexy stare.

 "Classic Worldwide Handsome," you replied.

He gave you a wink.

 "Yah! That is what they call me!"

You laughed and looked back in the mirror.

 "Seriously though, Jin, you look really, really good."

You were glad you had turned back to the mirror so he couldn't see your cheeks turn red. The sight of him in a perfectly fitting suit with his dark hair pushed back from his eyes and forehead which showed his beautifully structured face made your heart flutter.

 "Thanks, y/n. I've gotta look good if I'm going to be your pretend boyfriend, you know?"

You shuffled nervously, wondering if this was a good idea after all.

He poked his head around the doorway to look at you.

 "How much longer until you're ready?"

You looked at yourself in the mirror.

 "Umm probably about 10 more minutes. Just have to finish my make up and put my dress on."

Jin nodded.

 "Okay. I'll be in the living room when you're ready."

You sighed and made your way to your closet after you were finished with your make up. You stared at the dresses before you and wondered if it was too late to back out.

 One of your friends from high school was getting married, and after hearing that almost all your other friends from back then were bringing plus ones, the stress of not having one got to you. So you reluctantly asked your best friend Jin, figuring he would say no, or that he had a full schedule that day. He was in one of the world's most popular boy bands after all. But, to your surprise, he was free this day and he said yes with almost no hesitation. It made you smile, how kind he was. He was a great friend.

In fact, it was small gestures like this that made you finally realize your true feelings for him. He was a wonderful person, and the two of you always had a great time laughing with each other. You would never tell him how you truly felt about him though, as you were afraid it would ruin your friendship. Plus, you were pretty sure he didn't feel the same way considering how many girls he has to choose from. Why would he choose you? It hurt your heart, but it was worth it to keep him in your life.

Eventually you chose a long, pink and floral dress made of chiffon, with fluttering short sleeves. Perfect for the Spring time. It had bits of blue in it, too, so it matched Jin's outfit well. You slipped on some nude sandals with heels and grabbed a clutch purse from the top shelf.

  You took one last look at yourself in the full length mirror and actually smiled. Your hair fell nicely around your shoulders and your make up was done but still showed your natural face nicely. You felt confident and ready.

 "Ok, sorry, I'm ready," you said, walking into the living room to find Jin sitting on the couch looking at his phone.

He stood up and put his phone in the pocket of his pants. When he finally looked at you his jaw dropped.

 "Whoa..." he mumbled.

It made you intensely blush and your heart speed up.

He shook himself out of his trance and got a big grin on his face. Suddenly he started humming the chorus to his band BTS' song "Like" and snapping his fingers while stepping towards you.

 "Ohhhh pretty woman... don't wanna be fool, wanna be cool, wanna be loved, 너와의, same looove... Baby I want it"

You pushed him away by his chest, trying to play off how embarrassed and flustered you were. He laughed at himself while you rolled your eyes.

 "Oh my god, let's just go, Jinnie."

*

You arrived at the venue just as the ceremony was starting, so you didn't have time to greet anyone. It was outside in a park next to the Han River. It was a beautiful late afternoon in mid-Spring, the sun was shining, flowers had finally made their appearance after the long winter, and the trees were covered in lush green leaves again.

The ceremony was simple, sweet and short. Once it was over everyone headed to the patio overlooking the river where the reception was going to take place. A large tent was set up for some shade, tables and chairs, a buffet line and a dance floor. Everything was covered in white flowers and elegant decorations.

 "I guess we should find out where we're sitting," you said to Jin, and he nodded in response.

He took your hand in his, which completely caught you off guard. You looked down at your interlaced fingers in shock.

 "We have to at least hold hands, (y/n), if we're meant to be convincing," Jin stated matter-of-factly.

You gulped and nodded in agreement, getting flustered from the feeling of his strong hand holding yours tightly.

The two of you walked to the table under the tent where the place card settings were, informing the guests of which table they were assigned to. While searching for your name, you heard a shriek behind you.

 "(y/n)!? Oh my god, is that you??"

You turned around to see one of your old friends, (y/f/n), coming towards you with outstretched arms.

You smiled politely and returned the hug.

 "Hi, (y/f/n), it's good to see you."

She smiled and turned towards Jin.

 "And who is this handsome man standing next to you?"

Jin stuck his hand out to shake hers.

 "I'm Kim Seokjin, (y/n)'s boyfriend." He wrapped his long arm around the back of your waist as he said that, pulling you closer to him.

 "Boyfriend? Wow, (y/n), you certainly reached out of your league, huh?" She laughed to herself.

You winced at the comment but brushed it off. Jin, however, couldn't let it go so easily.

 "She reached out of her league? No, no, I think it's quite the opposite. Look at her! She's gorgeous! And kind, and smart and funny. You're definitely wrong there."

Anyone who didn't know Jin would think the tone in his response was light-hearted, but being his best friend you could sense the annoyance and anger that was really there.

 "Did you come with anyone?" You asked, changing the subject quickly.

Her face lit up.

 "Yes! I got married last year. My husband, Park Ji-ho, is over there," she pointed to a man standing at the edge of the tent, "He's wonderful, let me get him."

She called his name and waved him over to introduce him to you.

  "Ji-ho, this is (y/n) and Seokjin. I knew her in high school."

He bowed at the two of you and shook you hands. When he looked at Jin he paused.

  "You look... familiar," he said quizzically.

You and Jin exchanged looks. You shuffled nervously.

Ji-ho's face lit up.

  "Wait, I've seen you on the walls in my little sister's room! And on the tv! Aren't you an idol? You're in a group, right?" he suddenly recalled.

Jin gave him a small smile and nodded his head.

 "Yes, 방탄소년단, or BTS."

(y/f/n) gasped.

 "That's right! I knew I recognized you, too! You're a member of BTS!" she exclaimed with wide eyes, "Wow, (y/n) really did reach out of her league."

She turned to her husband and chuckled.

Jin's grip on your hand got tighter in anger, turning his knuckles white.

 "Well, it was nice to meet you both. We're going to our table now." He said shortly, urgently pulling you away with him.

Once you were out of hearing distance from the couple Jin asked you,

 "(y/n) you were actually friends with that girl? She's awful. Who says things like that?"

You shrugged and sighed.

  "We weren't that good of friends, just in the same group. She always has had that... interesting sense of humor."

He scoffed.

 "Interesting? I'd say it's more mean than anything."

You gave him an I-told-you-so look.

  "You see now why I so desperately wanted you to come with me, Jinnie-ah? Imagine the things she would have said if I had shown up alone."

He rolled his eyes.

Just then his phone let out a loud vibration from his pocket. He glanced down at it and rejected the call.

 "So you wanna get some food? I'm starving," he asked, shoving it back in his pocket.

You chuckled.

 "Of course you are. Let's go."

The two of you ate from the buffet, chatted with the bride and groom at your table for a little bit and listened to the live band perform songs. By then the sun had set and the whole venue was lit by the soft yellow glow of string lights stretching across the tent ceiling and out to the patio.

 "So when are we going to dance, (y/n)?" Jin asked after a while with a huge grin on his face. He took the last sip of his beer.

 You raised you eyebrows and shook your head.

 "Oh no no no, I am not getting on that dance floor with you Kim Seokjin."

Jin stood up and started walking backwards towards the floor.

  "Come oonnnnn (y/n)-ah," he pleaded in his endearing whiny voice, "If you don't come with me, I'll go alone and dance like this."

He started flailing his long arms up in the air and shaking his whole body back and forth.

  "Wooooo! Weeee! Woooooooo!" he exclaimed with his motions, causing some people from a nearby table to stare and giggle.

 "Ok, ok, I'm coming, I'm coming," you laughed and rolled your eyes, "Just please don't do that."

He smiled widely at you and took you by the hand out to the dance floor.

It was an upbeat song, and the two of you swayed back and forth in front of each other to the beat. Jin also added in some classic moves, like the sprinkler and the robot. He looked ridiculous and it made you laugh. He seemed so confident and happy, which made you forget to feel embarrassed.

  "Isn't dancing part of your job description??" you yelled to him jokingly over the music.

He continued to wave his arms in the air.

  "Doesn't mean I do it well!" he responded, grabbing your hand and twirling you under it.

You threw your head back and laughed. You were finding yourself having a surprisingly good time, despite originally being nervous to come.

The song ended and then a slow one began to play.

  "Grab onto the person who makes your heart flutter, this one is for the two of you," the lead singer of the band announced.

You and Jin looked at each other shyly. He hesitated, but gave you an adorable small smile. You felt butterflies in your stomach and you looked at the ground awkwardly. Jin didn't notice, he just stepped toward you and put one hand on your waist and the other in yours.

  You moved back and forth together, staring into his dark brown eyes and handsome face. It made you sad almost, how strong your feelings truly were and the fact that you knew he would never be yours. But you quickly pushed those thoughts out of your mind and told yourself to focus on the present.

 "I really do appreciate you coming with me today, Jinnie." you said softly, "You're a really great friend."

He blinked slowly at you in adoration.

  "Of course, you know I'd do anything for you, (y/n)-ah."

Suddenly his phone started vibrating again. He let go of your hand to remove it from his pocket and again hit the reject button. Then he scrolled through a few things.

  "Is everything okay?" you asked curiously.

Jin looked up from the phone at you.

 "Yes, I'm sorry, I'm going to turn it off."

You shook your head in protest.

  "No, don't do that. What if the members need you?" you paused, "Wait, is that who's calling you?"

Jin looked down and scratched the back of his head.

  "Jin, you can answer the phone it if it's important, it's okay." you reassured him.

He shook his head.

  "It's not... really that important, it's fine."

He doesn't look at you, which means you can tell he's lying.

You grabbed his arm gently.

  "Jin..."

He finally looks at you and squeezes his eyes shut in shame.

  "Aiishhh, we were supposed to go over some choreography changes and they want to Facetime me so I can see."

  "Seokjin!" You exclaimed.

Couples around you glared at your sudden loudness.

You dragged Jin off the dance floor and sat him back at the table.

  "You told me you didn't have any work to do today!"

He buried his face in his hands.

  "I know, I know, but skipping one practice will be okay... I think."

You shook your head in disbelief.

  "Oh my gosh, I wouldn't have asked you or let you come if I had known! Why Jin-ah, why did you come with me when you had work?"

You studied his embarrassed red face. He looked nervous.

 "I-I don't know... I guess I just wanted to be there for you."

Your stomach twisted at those words, but you ignored it.

Instead you sighed and looked down at your hands.

  "Well they clearly need you there. So let's get you to them."

You stood up. Jin did too but he grabbed your wrist.

  "We don't have to go, I'm having fun. Let me just call them back really quick. It will be fast, I promise."

  "You sure? I don't want you getting in trouble or the other members getting upset with you..." you worried.

Jin smiled reassuringly.

 "I'm sure. I'll be right back."

And with that he pulled out his phone and walked out of the tent towards the illuminated patio.

You sighed again and slumped back in your chair, twirling the stem of your wine glass between your fingers. You couldn't believe Jin would skip a dance practice to be your date to a stupid wedding. You felt horrible for asking. Why would he do that anyway? The other 6 members were his everything. His job was his everything. His love for entertaining was his everything. As far as you knew, all these things meant so much more to him than being your date to a wedding you didn't even really want to come to.

  "Excuse me, young lady," an old woman with glasses and white hair had come up to your table, interrupting your thoughts, "I just wanted to say what a beautiful couple the two of you make."

She gestured towards where Jin had retreated to make his call.

You felt your face get hot and you chuckled lightly.

  "Oh... well thank you."

She continued,

  "You can tell how in love with you he is just by the way he looks at you."

Your heart thumped in your chest and you put your hands up in protest.

 "Oh, no, no, I don't quite think he feels-"

She interrupted you.

  "Honey, I've been married 54 years... I know a thing or two about being in love. You looked very happy out there, and so did he, especially when he made you laugh. Keep him close, dear, he's a special one. And he obviously adores you."

Before you could protest again, she smiled and gave you a wink before walking away.

She could tell by the way he looked at you? You chuckled to yourself. Clearly she needed a new glasses prescription. You shook her comments off and exited the tent to find Jin before she could come back and fill your head with more wishful thoughts.

You found him alone leaning over the railing, looking out across the river, the city lights of Seoul visible in the distance. You walked up to him and crossed your arms on the railing next to him.

  "Hey." you said, noticing he was no longer on the phone.

He turned from the river view and looked at you. The string lights gave his pale face a warm tanned glow. He looked almost angelic.

  "Hey."

You stared back at the river and fiddled with your hands.

  "How were the members?"

He shrugged.

  "They're good. They just wanted to make sure I was okay with the changes. I told them I am and promised I'd be there with them tomorrow."

  "And they weren't upset with your absence?" you questioned.

He shook his head.

  "Not at all, they understand."

You smiled.

   "Well that's good. They're really great people. You're lucky."

Jin hummed in agreement.

There was a pause when you suddenly realized how chilly it had gotten. Outside the tent and adjacent to the river felt a good 10 degrees colder. You shivered and rubbed your arms.

  "You're cold? Here."

Jin removed his suit jacket and placed it gently around your shoulders. It was warm and smelled like him; an instant comfort.

  "Wow, classic move giving me your jacket," you teased, nudging your shoulder against his, "you're such a gentleman."

He shrugged and chuckled, showing his perfect teeth and adorable eye wrinkles.

  "I try my best."

You looped your arm in his tightly and rested your head on his upper arm.

  "Mmm you're a great pretend boyfriend, Jinnie."

You sighed in content and looked out over the water again, the moon reflecting on it's surface, a cool spring breeze blowing across your face.

  "What if... we didn't pretend?" he suddenly whispered softly.

You felt your heart stop. Had you misheard him?

You took your arm out from his and turned to face him. He was studying your face intensely. His was serious, a rare sight.

 "What?" you managed to squeak out.

He shifted his body so it faced yours. There was hope and determination in his eyes. But also fear. You could feel your heart beat in your ears.

  "I-I," he shut his eyes in hesitation, "I have feelings for you, (y/n). I have for a long time now. I didn't know how to tell you, or if you even felt the same way. You're always referring to me as your friend so I was afraid to tell you... and I didn't, I don't want to ruin our friendship. You are so important to me and I guess somehow I was hoping coming with you here tonight would make you see that, and give me an opportunity to tell you. So... here I am. That's part of the reason the members were so understanding... they knew I was finally going to tell you today," he chuckled sheepishly and looked at the ground, "I understand if you don't feel the same way, really, I don't want to lose you as a friend, but.... I thought you should know."

You felt like you were dreaming. Your eyes teared up at his words and you were thankful he couldn't see you in the soft light. Your heart felt like it was going to burst.

His face looked at yours in concern.

"Jinnie..." You could barely speak.

So instead you stood on your tip-toes and gently pressed your lips on top of his large, pillow-y ones. He kissed you back passionately, wrapping his long arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. He was so warm, and smelled so comforting and familiar. You felt like you were in heaven.

When you broke away you both had the biggest grins on your face. He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, humming in content.

  "Seokjin-ah," you whispered, burying your face in his chest, "I'm so glad you told me."

He kissed the top of your head and rested his chin on top, holding you against him tightly.

  "And I am so glad I skipped work today."

You both chuckled and kissed once more.

*

Masterlist

[kurlyfrasier]

Terrified: Part 4

Raph x Reader

Synopsis: Raph saves you from ruffians one night in an alley after watching out for you for weeks without you knowing. Which leads you to getting to know the guys and becoming part of the family. But Raph keeps a distance and you don’t understand why. 

Word Count: 1708

Warnings: None

I woke up later than intended- much later, as in waking in the afternoon later- red-eyed and weary from the tears shed the night before. I had decided, once I had calmed down enough to think beyond losing the boys- most especially Raph- that tonight would be my last movie night. At least, for a while. I also planned on telling them they need not walk me home after work. Granted, I had no idea how I planned on convincing them that they weren’t needed. 

Maybe I could tell them I’m moving? Getting a new job?

I sighed, looking into the mirror. If tonight was going to be my last night seeing Ra- them, then I would make the most of it. I decided I would look my best, without looking desperate...hopefully. Sadly, this meant I did not get to start my new book since l only had about an hour until Mikey would be here to pick me up. Yet another reason to stop burdening the boys. Regretting the fact that I wouldn’t get to wear pajamas like I usually do on movie nights, I trudged to my closet.

A little over an hour later Mikey found me in the middle of brushing just a tad bit of make-up on; to cover up my red-rimmed eyes. 

“Whoa angelcakes,” he drawled once I stepped out of the bathroom, eyeing my long, fitted sweater dress- because it gets cold in the lair- and warm leggings with comfortable Chuck Taylors. 

See? Not desperate. Comfy.

“Raph is gonna lov-” He stopped himself short when I gave him a quizzical look. “I mean, you look hot, dudette. Got any plans tonight?” he wiggled, what one would call, his eyebrows, erupting a giggle out of me. 

“Only to hang out with my besties, that’s all,” I shrugged, grabbing my phone, hoping he wouldn’t comment about my not-so-usual outfit once we got to the lair. I really did not want it made more obvious than it already is.

“Sounds like the best plan, but are you sure you don’t wanna bring pj’s for after?”

“I’m sure, Mikey,” I smiled reassuringly up at him as he plucked me up out of the window and onto the roof. “These are just as comfortable as pajamas, promise.”

“Okay then, let’s go,” he helped me onto his shell. “Can’t wait to beat you in a new racing game I got,” he hopped from roof to roof, holding me tight. I couldn’t help but compare his smaller, bulky size to Raph. I don’t think I would have been able to hold on to his shell quite as well.

“You’re on, man. But don’t come crying to me when you lose.”

He barked out a laugh and we stayed silent until we got to the man-hole cover.

“Hey, angelcakes,” Mikey started sheepishly when we got to the bottom of the ladder, scratching the back of his neck. “I wanted to ask…”

“Yeah?” I gave him an encouraging smile.

“Did somethin’ spook you last night?” He blurted out.

“No,” I furrowed my brows, confused about where this is coming from. Unless…

“Raph said you were running for your life after you got off the subway. I just wanted to make sure everything is okay.”

“Oh,” I tried thinking of an excuse, averting my gaze. “I just didn’t want to be a burden, is all.”

Not a complete lie.

“A burden?” He looked shocked as I turned toward their home and started walking that way, hoping to hide my despondency. “You’re not a burden, angelcakes! Besides, before that night in the alley, Raph was already-”

I stopped in my tracks as Mikey sauntered ahead.

“I mean, we like making sure you're okay. We don’t want a repeat of that night we first met,” he continued rambling, but I wasn’t listening. I wanted to know what he was gonna say about Raph. After a few steps he realized I wasn’t next to him anymore. “Come on, Y/n. Don’t want ya to get lost.”

I nodded, unwilling to ask my question as we continued our trek to the lair. I took a deep, calming breath to brace myself before entering the living room area where I knew Splinter, the wonderful father that he is, would be prepping for homemade pizza. Donnie had made an old brick oven not long ago and built it directly underneath a grate above that they only opened when baking pizza so the smoke would have an escape. I found it ingenious because now they could have pizza whenever they wanted. Which was always. A small smile formed at the thought.

Not five steps in and Raph blocked my path, arms crossed as he assessed me for injuries. I stared straight into his chest, unable to meet his all-seeing gaze. He would know something was wrong the moment we made eye contact, he always did.

“Bro, she’s fiiiine,” Mikey sang, lightly punching Raph’s shoulder as he walked by. “I would never let anything happen to her. She is my precious sister, after all.”

Raph ignored him, grunting in approval with a curt nod before walking away. Allowing me to breathe again, not realizing I had held my breath in the first place.

~~~~~~~~~~

Raph was anxious to see you. He had been attempting to work it off all day, to no avail. Everytime he closed his eyes he saw you, standing in front of him, looking small, keeping your thoughts to yourself. 

He growled in frustration, clenching his hands into fists. If only he knew what had you so utterly shattered last night.

He needed to see you.

He needed to know you were safe.

Raph breathed out a sigh of relief when he heard you and Mikey coming, but stopped short when he saw what you were wearing. Vaguely, he wondered where you had come from to be looking so good. That red sweater stuck to your form as if it was painted on. It may have covered almost every inch of skin from your thighs up, but it hardly left room for the imagination. Thos leggings did the same.

Where were your baggy pj’s?

Robotically, he blocked your path to determine if you had been hurt. Really though, it was all a ruse. He just wanted to have a good look at you. He crossed his arms over his chest to keep himself from holding you close. The fact that you wouldn’t meet his gaze had his blood running cold. You always at least gave him a tentative glance and a smile. Next to him, Mikey said something about you being his precious sister, but all he could think was that you were his precious everything. He didn’t even feel his brother’s light punch as he walked by.

He grunted as if saying “that’ll do” and walked away, wishing he knew what was wrong. Wishing he could make it all better.

“I’m gonna go help Donnie with something before we play, okay Mikey?” You spoke barely above a whisper before heading to Donnie’s lab. 

The moment you were out of sight he rounded on Mikey. “So wha’ didya find out?” he growled in in his face.

“Nothin’, bro!” Mikey held his hands up in surrender, backing away. “She said something like not wanting to be a burden. I don’t know. She was kinda quiet though. I barely got her to smile.”

“But nothin’ ‘bout wha’ scared her?” he asked low, peeking around to make sure you hadn’t decided to come back.

“Nadda. Just said she didn’t wanna be a burden. I told her she’s not. That we like takin’ her home, but,” he paused when he noticed Raph shaking, stiff as a board. “Uh-oh…”

Raph stomped away toward Donnie’s lab, barely able to comprehend what Mikey was telling him. 

You? A burden?

Never.

He planned on shaking you to your senses until he heard what you were saying to Donnie.

“...gonna take some self-defense classes so you guys don’t have to walk me home anymore. What do you think?”

Raph leaned against the wall, going to a whole new level of low with eavesdropping. He decided it was worth it if he could figure out what was wrong.

“We could teach you,” Donnie offered offhandedly. “Besides, we like taking you home. We can actually have a conversation as we protect you.”

“Nah, you guys are busy as it is,” you paused. “Plus, I don’t want to bother you guys even more.”

“What are you talking about, Y/n?” Something clattered, a sign that you have Donnie’s full attention. “You’re no bother. Did something happen?”

“No, nothing happened,” you sighed before continuing quietly. “I just- I might be getting another job-”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that, right?” Donnie chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Is this about last night? I heard you were running from something.”

“Ugh! I wanted to get home faster! That’s all,” you fumed, stomping a foot, demanding why the boys kept asking you about last night.

“We’re worried, Y/n,” Donnie stated calmly. “You spend a lot of time with us. That could make you a target. Especially if anyone figures out how much you mean to Ra- uh… us.”

“Fine,” you seethed. “I’ll stop hanging out with you guys, then. That way nobody will have to worry about my safety.”

Donnie’s call for you fell on deaf ears as Raph snuck into the darkened room across from the lab, your steps echoed down the hall. He sunk low in the shadows and held his head close to his knees, eyes shut tight in a sad attempt to keep the tears from flowing freely. He couldn’t breathe. His heart felt as though it were being shattered into a million pieces.

You were leaving? The thought ricocheted through his brain.

What had happened to bring this about? Everything was fine until last night.

Maybe someone got to you already? The thought had his blood boiling. Allowed him to breathe. He had a purpose; to find out what happened in the ten minutes you were on the subway. He was determined to keep you close. Keep you safe. No matter the cost. Even if he had to lock you in his room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 5

[pretend-writer]

Invisible Man (Diego Hargreeves x reader)

Summary: Y/N confesses her crush to her best friend, Diego who happens to be someone who he is very familiar and close with.

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x reader

Title Reference: Invisible Man x 98 Degrees

Word Count: 2.3k words

Warning: swearing, mention of death, fluff

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Diego’s POV

This man was all Y/N talked about, always wondering if this superhero was hiding among us just like us human beings. Was he a waiter at a local restaurant or was he working as a business man? 

My response was always ‘Yeah, maybe you’ve already met him.’ She would always laugh and say ‘No, there’s no way. I would know if I’ve met him.’ 

What she doesn’t know was that the guy she’s crushing over was me. Not me, me. But me in disguise.

The superpower I had was in my blood since I was born. My siblings and I were adopted by a man who raised us as a group of heroes that would stop crimes around town. 

Father named us by numbers, we never had a name. Until our "robot" mother decided to give us a name, since then I've been called Diego. To my father however, I was always Number Two.

He treated us the way he named us, some object for his experiment. Me and my six other siblings were nothing but a tool for his amusement. I always enjoyed fighting crimes because it made the rest of the town happy but I missed every single childhood that "normal" kids had.

Growing up in this household, I started to realize I had enough of my father's experiment. When I was old enough to leave my father and this "fantastic group" that he would call The Umbrella Academy, I walked through that front door and never looked back. That was the day I decided to throw away everything I was and live as Diego Hargreeves, a normal man with normal dreams.

But it wasn't for long.

I missed the feeling of accomplishment and the sense of worth I had when I fought the bad guys; the only time I felt like I was something, like I mattered to the world. That was when I decided I was going to be Number Two once again.

This time, I kept it a secret and hid my identity. Showing my true self would've been exactly what my father wanted; fame and fortune. I didn't want that, however; I did it for me and to save the citizens of this town. I didn't care for all of that other crap. Besides, Diego was the new me and I couldn't give that up.

Then I met Y/N, the person I've been in love with since I've laid eyes on her. She came by for boxing lessons one day and from that moment I knew she was someone special.

We've grew closer, eventually going to places like watching movies or mini-golfing. She would even invite me to her friends' house for parties and introduce me to them. This was the first time I felt like a part of something important, a family.

I always had that thought in my head where I told myself "Maybe she feels the same way." There were moments where I wanted to tell her the truth; my true feelings toward her. Then that one day when I planned everything out, that was when she started talking about Number Two.

"Number Two is so brave."

"I wonder if he's alone and needs a friend."

"He's always saving everyone, that's the most selfless thing anyone can do."

It was just so hard to see someone you love talk about another man. Especially when that person was someone you were really familiar with.

Some days I wanted to tell her that I was him. The person who she was looking for, the man of her dreams was right there in front of her.

But how can I?

She loved the man that was selfless and caring, saving everyone in the city one by one. Y/N loves the thrill of the mystery behind Number Two, his hidden identity and figure out who he can possibly be.

Not only will that ruin her fantasy, she would be disappointed that it would be me. Seeing her reaction would just crush me. It also wasn't worth losing an amazing friendship over. There was no way I could live without her, I couldn't lose her.

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'A ski trip?' I questioned Y/N as I sipped my coffee. 'It's in the middle of January, probably the coldest time of the year. You sure you want to go?'

'Diego, I've been planning this trip for months. You know how much I need this.' She did her puppy dog face, knowing there was no resisting.

Rolling my eyes, I chuckled. 'You'd go anyways even if I say it's a little dangerous. There's no stopping you.'

'That's right.' She grinned, 'Besides, it wouldn't be as tragic if something happened to me anyways.'

'Why would you say that?' I frowned, not waiting anything bad to happen to her.

'Number Two might come and save me.' Her grin got wider as she fantasized about being rescued. 'Wouldn't that be romantic?'

Faking a smile, I nodded. 'I guess but I wouldn't know though, I don't know anything about romance.'

'You don't have anyone you admire, Diego?'

'No.' Maybe I answered too quickly as I tried to hide my feelings. It didn't really matter because Y/N knew me too well and detected my fib easily.

'Well, whoever the girl is Diego, she must be really great.' She giggled.

'Yeah, she's amazing and beautiful.' I smiled but deep down I wasn't feeling alright. All those words were towards her but she didn't even know how great she was.

Y/N finished her coffee as she started eating her pastry. 'You know, we can invite you to the ski trip and maybe you'll be able to hit it off with this mystery girl.'

'No, no. I'd prefer to enjoy my Y/N free weekend.' She gasped and hit me on my arm playfully. 'I'm not joking.'

'Har har. I know you'll definitely miss me, Diego.'

'Yeah, I will.' This time, I didn't joke. It was only for a few days away from her but I know I'd think about her all the time.

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Y/N’s POV

Diego was right

I hated admitting he was right but dammit he was. I was walking around a snow storm which of course had to be on the day when my friends and I decided to snowboard.

The vision was terrible and I couldn't see anything but snow on my goggles. I knew that my two friends weren't near me because I haven't heard them say anything for a few minutes now.

No matter how much I shouted their names, I got nothing. They were most likely long gone and who knows, they probably lost each other too.

The longer I was here all alone with nothing but the sound of the wind blowing, the more scared I got. I've walked everywhere but I could be just walking in circles. At this point, I didn't know anymore.

Suddenly, I felt a grip on my wrist and heard whispers in my ear. 'Follow me, I'll help you.'

With the wind blowing strongly, I barely heard what he said but I knew for a fact it was a voice of a man. I had no choice but to follow him, it was either go with him or die in the cold snow.

As the man led me to God knows where, I silently followed from behind him as he continued to pull me through the snowstorms. Even though I had a sense of relief of someone actually saving me, I could've gotten kidnapped by some freak. I still didn't feel a hundred percent safe.

After a few more minutes of hiking, I saw a small shed where the man took us both in. The place must of been some kind of equipment storage as I saw a few things they sold to us down at the lodge.

As I patted some snow off of my face and the rest of my body, I laughed. 'Thank you for saving me back there. Or kidnapping me. Either way I'm out of the snow for now.'

I heard the man chuckle but hasn't said anything else. He looked around the snow equipments with his back against me as though he was highly intrigued, I could tell he was listening but wasn't much of a talker.

Deciding to have a good look at him, I took off my goggles. Getting a clearer view, I've recognized the black outfit, it was practically engraved in my mind. Granted the journalists never had clear pictures of the man, we all knew the signature mask and the outfit he always wore.

'Number Two? Is it really you?'

He stopped moving and froze in place as I figured out who the man really was. He still didn't want to turn around but I wish he did so I could officially thank him.

'I thought I was going to die out there so thanks for saving me, uhm sir?' I bit my lip and face palmed, thinking to myself "way to go dummy. what was I thinking saying that!?"

Number Two paced towards the door, about to leave me in the shed. I went up to him to try to stop him. I tapped on his shoulder, 'Wait!'

'Oh, oops. I didn't mean to touch you I'm so sorry sir. Anyways, uhm. I really admire you and your work so the fact that you came all the way here to save me means so much. Just thought you should know.'

Number Two continued to just stand there, frozen in place; He hasn't said a word either. I didn't want to move either especially because scaring him away was the last thing I wanted to do.

As I was about to give up, he slowly turned around, revealing his face with a mask covering around his eyes. This was the first time that anyone has seen Number Two upclose as in the articles, they all say he would vanish right after he saves the people in need. Hence the lack of photographs of him.

If there were pictures of him however, I would've definitely recognized the superhero as his face was too familiar. 'Diego?'

'Surprise?' He mumbled, looking down on the ground shyly as he avoided eye contact.

My mind froze as I was still trying to put two and two together. 'Wait... so all this time, it was really you?'

Diego nodded as he scratched the back of his head, 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lie to you.'

'No, it's-' I stuttered as my mouth didn't keep up with my mind. After all, there were so many thoughts running through my head.

'Don't worry, I made sure your friends were safe too. They're back in the cabin but they were really worried about you.' Diego spoke softly, knowing that I was still processing everything.

There were more I wanted to say to Number Two but now that I found out he was Diego all along, I didn't know the right words to say. Everything was confusing at first but as it gradually started to sink in, I realized who my feelings were really for this whole time.

Reaching for Diego's arm, I pulled him closer to me and stared into his eyes, 'Who's the girl?'

He cocked his head, confused on the change of the subject. 'What do you mean?'

'The girl you said that was amazing and beautiful. Who's the girl?'

Diego sighed, fighting in his mind whether to say it aloud or not. It took a lot of him to turn around and reveal his true identity, he wasn't sure if he was ready to reveal his feelings.

'It's okay, just say it.' All this time I was blinded by my infatuation for Number Two, I blocked out my real feelings for someone else. 'Tell me.'

'Y/N...' He had a nervous look on his face, having second thoughts about blurting out the next words. 'It's you, Y/N.'

I caressed his cheeks, inching slowly to his mask as I took it off of his face. He licked his lips which gave away that he was feeling vulnerable. Diego and I knew each other so well, we knew the body languages of one another. 'You're not fucking with me, right?'

Diego eyed me up and down, then shook his head. 'I'll never do that to you.'

With my hand back on his cheek, I pulled him in for a kiss. Diego was surprised, not expecting this outcome as he paused to take his new reality all in. As the realization hits Diego, he cupped my face and finally kissed me back.

Slowly pulling away, I breathed heavily. I looked into his eyes and smiled. 'Number Two was some crush I fantasized about but it was always you, Diego. I'm sorry it took me until now to realize that.'

'Don't apologize for anything. I just want you to be happy.'

'I am, I really am. Especially because you saved me from freezing to death or flying away in the snowstorm.'

'Glad I helped you when I had the chance.' The cute grin slowly turned into a chuckle.

Furrowing my eyebrows, I asked. 'What are you laughing about.'

'"Uhm, sir. I admire you so much."' Diego mocked me and laughed louder.

'Ah, can we not relive that please.' I scrunched my face, closing my eyes as if that would help the memory go away.

'Nu-uh! That was too funny. You know, I was this close to laughing my ass off, Y/N.' Diego crouched and held onto his stomach, dying of laughter.

'Oh my-' I covered my face from embarrassment. 'I was nervous okay! I didn't know what to say.'

'Okay, okay. It was cute though, don't worry.' I gave him a death glare, knowing that he'll never drop this conversation.

The cute and romantic moment was over, but I'm not surprised because of course it was. It was Diego for crying out loud, the boy who thought "romance stinks." But man, I loved my best friend so much; I couldn't hate him.

He bit his lip to stop himself from laughing again. 'Fine, fine I'll stop. We'll just talk about it again tomorrow.'

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taglist; @seiraswriting​

[cafedanslanuit]

would it be ok to ask for hcs of the main 6 + vaderwood and how they would react to their normally energetic and funny mc being a little off and making some self-deprecating jokes (like a little too dark to be funny) as a way of coping and hiding their anxiety/depression? if not thats ok im just in a similar mood today.

self-deprecating jokes are my thing too, tbh. hope you’re feeling better! Also, I couldn’t picture Vandy for this particular hc, I’m sorry :c

Yoosung

This boy honestly loves how fun you are. He will always laugh with you and you don’t tease him that much (Saeyoung does that for you)

One day, when he comes home from his job at the vet, he finds you calling for pizza. He lets you finish the call and then you look up.

“Hey, welcome back! I accidentally left the stove on for too long and messed up dinner” you casually said, with a small giggle. “So I called Pizza Hut, hope it’s okay”.

“It’s okay!” he says. “I love pizza”

“I know, me too” you smile. You stand up and stretch your arms. “Okay, so I’ll take a shower before it gets here. How the fuck did I forget the stove on, I don’t know” you laugh. “I swear to God I would totally leave me at this point”.

Yoosung says nothing, shocked. He watches you walk to the bathroom and turn on the shower. He knows you like to joke around, but that joke had been pretty specific. Leave you? Why would he leave you? Over some burnt food?!

He waits until you come out, wrapped in a towel and hands you a cup of your favourite tea. You smile weakly.

“An award for my awful cooking?” you tease him.

“Hey! It’s just food! And you solved it. I don’t really care, MC, please let it go”. He sees your lips tremble a little bit. “Are you okay?”

You had a really rough day at work. You tell him all about it while sipping on the tea and he silently listens to you, nodding at the right times. The pizza finally arrives and he puts on your favourite show so you both can watch it. When you go to bed, he makes sure to give you extra cuddles, so you never have to feel any more pressure on yourself.

Zen

Honestly, he’s not the best at comedy. But he really likes how much you can make yourself laugh with your own jokes.

He comes home and hands you his tablet. You arch an eyebrow and look at him from the couch. He sits beside you and asks you to press play. You nod and comply his request.

It’s a video from rehearsal. He’s singing at he’s actually hitting all the notes just right. You smile softly, watching the video in silence. When it’s over, you turn and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re amazing, babe. You did the song soooo good! How can you be so talented?”

“Thank you, babe. And I don’t know, can’t help it. I’m just talented.” he shrugs, with a confident smile.

“Well, someone has to be” you responded quickly. His smiled faltered and he looked at you, confused.

“What are you talking about? You are talented too. I’ve seen your drawings, those building projects you have been working on. They’re masterpieces, MC, I love them and–”

“I didn’t get the job, Zen” you quickly answer, not looking at him. “They didn’t like those ‘masterpieces’” you added, making the colons signs with his fingers.

Oh. So they had already sent you the email.

Zen would put the tablet aside and hold you on the couch. Whisper over and over again how talented you truly are and how they were in the wrong for not noticing it.

“If they can’t see how brilliant you are, why would you want to work for them?” he asked. “I’ve been rejected more times that I can count. I know how you feel. And you know what makes me feel better?”

You look at him and shake your head.

Ten minutes later, you’re both riding on his motorcycle, feeling the air against your face. you hug him tighter and smile.

Jaehee

Jaehee’s not one for jokes. But she does enjoy the occasional laugh she has with you. You make tons of jokes, but, unlike Saeyoung, you know when to stop

“Babyyyyyyyy, I’m a mess!” you complained, stretching on your bed. Both of you were working on your laptops, when suddenly you put yours aside.

“C’mon. Help me, Excel Goddess! Can’t seem to make this thing to work and I need to show it to my boss tomorrow” you asked. Jaehee smiled softly, put her laptop aside and grabbed yours. She started typing formulas, fixing your work.

“You’re so good to me, baby. Thank youuuu. That’s why you’re the smart one here”. Jaehee just smiled, continuing her work.

“They should have taught me Excel in school instead of sports. Did anyone of my class turn out to be an athlete? No one. Are we struggling to get a job because we don’t know shit about Excel? We are”.

“Maybe that’s why I’m failing. Maybe that’s why I had to settle with this shitty job, because I can’t comprehend the monster that in Microsoft Excel. Maybe that’s also why my Computer Science teacher hated me at school” you said dramatically. Jaehee chuckled softly.

“Maybe that’s why my whole life is a mess right now. Maybe that’s why I can’t find joy in the things I do anymore, maybe that’s why my father left us. Because I’m a shitty person who can’t do Excel and can’t get a decent job”.

She stopped typing and looked over at you.

“MC. What are you saying?”

“I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m tired. Don’t think about it too much”

“I-… Do you want me to talk to Mr. Han? Maybe there’s a position and… I know C&R takes most of my time but an entry level job may be good– at least for your resumé and–”

“I’m fine. Don’t think about it, baby” you dismissed, but Jaehee grabbed your hand.

“Can’t you really find joy anymore?” she asked. You sighed.

“Happens to me when the cold weather beggins. Will go away in a couple of weeks” you shrugged. Jaehee squeezed your hand.

“Let me know if I can do anything to help you… well, find joy again”.

“You do help!” you assured her. “I can find bits of joy here” you smiled and gave her a small kiss. She smiled and kissed you back.

Jumin

Jumin doesn’t understand most of your jokes. Most of the times, you have to explain them to him. He doesn’t mind, but it’s only because he really enjoys watching you laugh at your own jokes. The sight of you giggling it’s enough to light up any day.

That day, you decided to visit him during lunch. Which wasn’t a rare occurrence, you tried to visit him at least once a week, making sure with Jaehee you wouldn’t be interrupting.

“Good afternoon, my love. Didn’t expect you here” he greeted you, giving your cheek a tender kiss when you approached him. You gave him the bento you had prepared and sat in front of him, on the other side of his desk.

“I know. I just thought your darling, loving wife might make an appearence. I do have to keep those heiresses away from you” you laughed. He smiled softly and opened his bento. “Don’t want them making you change your mind about marrying some poor girl who couldn’t even afford university by herself”.

Jumin arched his eyebrow while eating his lunch. “Is there a problem with your classes? I thought you were excited about finally attending university, even if most of the classes are online for security reasons. Are the professors not competent enough? Are they not grading you fairly?”

You laughed. “No, Jumin, classes are fine. I just… Don’t really fit with your social class, you know. I mean, I knew I wouldn’t fit, but someday’s it really… just… I don’t know. You can put a working class girl in a Channel, but you can’t really change who she really is inside, right?” you smiled weakly.

Jumin furrowed his eyebrows, visibly upset. “What are you talking about?”

Your facade disappear and you sighed. You reached out for his hand and held it tighly.

“Please, don’t misunderstand me. I love you, I really do. Nothing can change that. But I can’t– I can’t pretend I don’t hear the whispers when I come here to have lunch with you. How I listen to them mocking these nice clothes you bought for me” you said, pointing at your light blue dress he had given you. “I don’t… I didn’t grow up with these things. I must look really dumb pretending to be part of a class I’m not”.

“Who made that comment?” he asks, angrily.

You try to cover it up, but after some pushing, you tell him it’s the secretary that works two offices away. She has a desk beside Jaehee’s. Jumin stands up, not stopping when you ask him to. He takes one step outside his office and spots the secretary you must be talking about.

“You’re fired. Assistant Kang, take care of that paperwork”.

Jumin returned to his office and locked the door. You can’t believe what just happened. He walks over to you and lifts up your chin with his hand, gently.

“Don’t ever let anyone tell you you don’t belong here. Or that you don’t deserve elegant clothes or anything I want to give to you. I know you didn’t grow up the same as me, but that’s why I love you. Because you didn’t look at me and saw my money or C&R, you looked at me. At who I was. Who I could be. I want to be the best man I can be, just for you. And I want to please you, giving you anything I can so you can enjoy life at its fullest. Also, look at you” he said, taking a look at your whole outfit. “You look breathtaking. You look classy, and it’s not just the dress” he smirked, kissing your cheek and making his way to your neck, leaving you a mess of giggles.

Saeyoung

Ok, so we all agree he’s the king of dark humour and self-deprecating jokes.

And he’s used to be like that around you and sometimes you make the same jokes and you both just laugh it out.

So that day, he doesn’t notice something’s off from the start.

He’s fixing the robot cat, since it had been malfunctioning. You’re reading a magazine  on the couch while he’s sitting on the floor, both of you talking on and off.

“One day you should teach me who to do that. You know, fixing stuff and such”

“I wil! But you’ll need to call me sensei during our lessons.”

“Sensei? Isn’t that japanese?”

“It is! I’ll be your sensei if you wish. But what do you want to learn to fix?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t want to be the dumb one of the relationship”

“Awww. But we make such a good pair~”

“Just because you haven’t got tired of me yet” you chuckle.

“How could I get tired of your cooking? Never!~ I swear my mouth waters just thinking about your waffles.”

You laugh. “That’s all I am? My cooking?”

“Well, also how clean you keep this, Ms. Vanderwood hasn’t been complaining as much as before” he teases you.

“Well, you know I have to keep this apartment clean and your stomach full. That’s why I’m here, right? Until you get tired of my stupidness” you chuckle.

Saeyoung looks back at you, stopping on his fixing of robo-cat. He’s not longer smiling.

“… You really think that? That I think you’re stupid?”

“Well… I’m no genius. I’m just one more secretary, I’m… c’mon. You’d have more fun with someone who’s just as smart as you. I’m just here… until my time’s done. I’ve accepted it long ago.”

Suddenly he’s over you, making you lay on the couch, pinning both your arms over your head.

“Stop! What? Stop, just stop, what are you even saying?! You are kind, compassionate, generous and the most beautiful soul I’ve ever seen. You stayed by my side when I was at my worst. You saw all parts of me and still loved me. I’m the one who isn’t worthy of someone as loving and forgiving as you. I– I could never. I could have never rescued Saeran without you. I could have never been happy or even think about real happiness if it weren’t for you. So honestly, what if you don’t know anything about computers or hacking? That doesn’t matter to me. It’s you and your heart. It’s always been about your loving heart, MC. Please, please don’t be so hard on yourself. I’ve loved you my whole life. Even before I met you. I just didn’t realize it.”

Your eyes water

damn, saeyoung i almost cried as well, you fucker

You both stay on the couch, holding each other until you fall asleep. He keeps whispering soft and warm words to your ear every now and then, making sure you never doubt yourself again.

Saeran

“i want to die” “same”

It’s so usual for you both to make dark jokes, he doesn’t really notice when it stops being a joke to you.

You’re both laying on the couch. You’re on top of him, resting your head on his chest. You can’t remember how it started, but you start joking around.

“Your girlfriend’s a mess, you know”

“She is. Have you seen her hair?” he teased.

“What the hell does she think she’s doing? Have you seen the way she dresses?”

“Total mishap. It’s like a match made in hell”

“And her voice? More like a screech” you laugh, making fun of your own voice.

“Will she ever shut up?” he sighed dramatically, smirking softly.

“Why does she think she actually make someone happy?” you chuckle. His smile disappears.

Saeran stays silent for a minute. “You’re not happy?”

are you not happy with him? has he already bored you out of your mind? are you having second thoughts about your relationship? because he’s been trying, he’s been seeing a psychologist and even though there still isn’t a big change, he— is it because there hasn’t been a big change?

“Well, you’re not” you replied in a small voice. “And I can’t– And I don’t how– Maybe it’s me?”

So, Saeran decides to try something he’s been talking about with his psychologist. Better now than ever, he thought.

“I love you”

You raise your head, looking at him in disbelief. He’s never said that before. When you started dating, he had kissed you and you had understood how it was hard for him to express feelings due to the severe trauma he had gone through, so you hadn’t pushed him but… Saeran was still looking at you, a tense expression on his face. You suddenly realized you hadn’t said anything back.

“I love you too”. You had said it before. You had told him that a million times, but it was the first time you said it back.

“I know it seems I’m not making progress– But I think I am? I mean, I just told you that, right?” he said, scratching his head, a little nervous. “He said we were going to work on expressing feelings, and it was easier to express the most intense ones.”

“Your most intense feeling– one of your most intense feelings is loving me?” you asked, still surprised.

“Shut up” he said, making you laugh for real this time.

[bimboamyrose]

Unfamiliar - A Metamy Fanfic (Ch. 3)

hi babes~ thanks to those of you that messaged me your thoughts on the first 2 chapters; it encouraged me to continue. just finished looking over ch 3 and thought i would post here as i still have not received my invite to ao3 (does anyone know how long that’s supposed to take?). enjoy and feel free to leave me your ideas and comments ❤️

Ch. 1-2 + synopsis here

Ch.3 – Jagged

Amy and Cream bustled around the kitchen, picking up after their lunch. Metal sat, watching and listening, occasionally looking back at the small whiteboard with his name on it. He pondered about his past silently; wondered what his relationship with Tails, Amy, and Cream had been. What little he could remember only added to the mystery, but for now their simple goodwill was more than appreciated.

“So Cream, what did you need help with?” Amy asked her.

Cream was drying the last of the dishes and handing them to Amy to stack away in the cupboard. “Oh, thanks for reminding me. Actually, I have some schoolwork I need help with. Mom was having trouble with it, too.” Cream didn’t attend a physical school but worked with a tutor occasionally to complete some remote learning at her mother’s behest.

“What kind of work?”

“Some algebra. I find it sort of confusing.”

Amy squirmed uncomfortably. She hadn’t exactly had a formal education and was more well-versed in language and history than math and science anyway. “Don’t you think this is more of a Tails question?”

“He can be so impatient!” Cream huffed.  “I asked him for help a few weeks ago but he got frustrated with me.”

“I can see that,” Amy sighed. Tails was passionate about his work to a fault. He was good-natured and caring, but a strong teacher he was not. The boy was easily exasperated when others failed to keep up with him and generally preferred to work on his projects alone. “You know he means well, Cream. He doesn’t realize what a weird little genius he is,” she giggled.

“I guess so. But do you think you could help me?” Cream pleaded.

Amy shrugged. “I’ll try. But let’s ask him if we get stuck anyway.”

The girls finished clearing up and sat back at the kitchen table with Cream’s notebooks. Metal watched them read from some worksheets and try to work out some problems. Amy guided her through the first two, challenging Cream to finish the equations.

“Okay, let me check if that’s right…” Amy wasn’t totally sure she knew how to solve it either, but was pleased when the answers matched. “It is! Good job, Cream,” she beamed at her friend.

Seeing this, Metal scraped away at the writing on his whiteboard and followed along as they read the next equation out loud.

Amy cleared her throat. “Okay, write this down. ‘5×2 + 6x = 3, solve for x.’ Hmm. Let’s take a look at your notes and see if we can figure this one out…”

It took Metal a second to solve it, and a few more to write it out on the little white tablet. He chimed at the girls, holding up his work for them to see.

Cream looked up from her notes to examine the whiteboard. “Is that right, Amy?”

“Let me see…. Yeah! That’s the answer.” She turned to Metal with an impressed smile. “You’re like a walking calculator, Metal.”

She said his name. She seemed proud of him. That was a strange feeling- but not a negative one. He chimed again as a sense of enjoyment overtook him.

“I wish I could do that! But I have to show my work and I’m not sure where to start…” Cream returned to her notes, trying to understand the steps to take.  

Amy put down the worksheet. “What did you do first, Metal?”

He searched his recent memory for the calculations and scraped the answer off the whiteboard to make way for his response.

“Hey Cream, doesn’t that look a lot like this?” Amy pointed out a sample in Cream’s notes that used a similar structure to Metal’s.

“Oh, I think you’re right.” Cream wrote down what she understood to be the next step to solving the problem and showed it to him. “Is this how you did the next part?”

Her writing matched his earlier calculations and he nodded. It was impressive that she picked it up that quickly, he thought.

“Look at you, Cream! You already know more than I do,” Amy giggled.

She watched as Cream and Metal completed the problem together, matching up each step of the process. It took her a few minutes, but Cream matched Metal’s work exactly each time, arriving at the correct answer. Amy was incredibly relieved at his help- she wasn’t convinced she’d be able to solve it on her own, much less guide her friend through the process. The three answered a few more questions together over the next hour; Amy mostly reading from the answer key to confirm their responses.

“That was the last problem. Finally, that’s out of the way!” Cream cheered. “You guys are lifesavers.”

“I would’ve been useless after the first two problems,” Amy chuckled. “Maybe I should get a tutor, too.”

“You have Metal; I bet he knows a lot of stuff.” Cream responded, packing away her schoolwork.

“I don’t want to make a habit of it…” Amy trailed off. She noticed how dirty the whiteboard had become. Metal had been wiping his palm over it roughly and left scratch marks and marker smudges on the surface. “I think we should get you a new white board.”

“Don’t worry about it, I have another one at home. Metal can keep it! Also, this might come in handy for erasing.” Cream pulled a small cloth out of the front pocket of her bag and reached over the table to hand it to the robot.

He moved to grab it from her hand but stopped. He noticed how his sharp fingers had damaged the tablet. What if he scratched her, too? Metal outstretched his palm for her to drop it in instead.

Outside, the day had grown dim. It was still early, but the snowfall intensified over the last hour to create a dense veil that darkened the house. Visibility was low. It was a minor snowstorm, but Amy still worried about Cream’s return home.

“Hey Cream, why don’t you stay a while until the snow lightens up?” she suggested.

Cream peered through Amy’s sliding glass door off the side of the living room. “Oh! I didn’t realize it was so snowy out…”

“Why don’t we put on a movie to pass some time?”

“Hmm…” Cream pondered. She wasn’t really in the mood to watch anything. “I have a better idea! Let’s play dress up- like old times!”

Amy groaned. “Don’t you think we’re a little old for that?” It had been at least 3 years since they raided Amy’s closet for an impromptu fashion show. The girls had spent many a rainy day during Cream’s childhood arranging outfits.

“Metal’s never played,” Cream reasoned.

Amy scoffed playfully. “I really don’t think my clothes will suit him.”

Cream pouted in response. Her pleading eyes glistened in the dim light, growing ever wider. Her fist pressed to her round cheek as she made direct eye contact with Amy.

Amy rolled her eyes. “I taught you that trick.”

Cream abandoned her pitiful façade just as quickly, clicking her tongue.

“But, I guess there’s not much else to do,” Amy finished.

A look of glee filled the young rabbit’s eyes. She shot up from the table and twirled its perimeter to stop next to Metal. “Come on, let’s find you something to wear!” She tugged on his arm which failed to budge.

Surprised at the sudden contact, Metal turned his gaze to Cream’s delicate hands around his arm. After a moment, he managed to prop himself up without it, still struggling to balance as she attempted to pull him toward the bedroom.

“Be gentle, Cream. His foot is messed up.”

“Oh, right! Sorry, I’ll go at your pace,” the girl beamed at him. She dragged him slowly across the living room into Amy’s room, detailing what color scarf she thought would suit him, and adding that maybe a hat would look good, too.

Amy chuckled to herself as she took in the unusual sight of a young girl attempting to lug a clunky robot into a makeshift fashion show. She cleared some eraser shavings from the table and soon followed.

 It was as if a tornado had blown through Amy’s closet with the express purpose of littering as many clothes around the room as possible. Amy sighed thinking about how she had two messes to clean up now. Her and Metal Sonic watched from the bed; he sat at the edge while Amy crossed her legs and hugged a large pillow in front of her chest. Cream had tried on just about every dress, every blouse, and each pair of shoes that Amy owned. She’d also managed to amass a pile of silk scarves around Metal Sonic’s neck, insisting that layering was all the rage. Cream completed his ensemble by placing a wide-brimmed straw boater atop his head. He looked a bit like a hat rack.

Amy turned to address Metal. “So, how you holding up?”

Metal didn’t look at her but let out a melodic grunt. Amy wasn’t sure what it meant but his stoic gaze surrounded by dainty accessories made her laugh.

“Amy, do you remember this?” Cream excitedly held up two intertwined clothes hangers housing a long pink tank top and a matching pair of flared joggers.

“Oh, wow- that old thing. I wasn’t sure I still had it.”

“I don’t fit into mine anymore,” Cream complained.

“Try this one on then.”                                    

Cream slipped back into the closet to change and Amy took it as an opportunity to get a head start on picking up. It had stopped snowing and there was only maybe an hour of sunlight left- it was time Cream got back home.

When she emerged wearing the athletic set, Cream spun around and posed. “What do you think?”

“The pants are still a little long, but it looks great on you. Why don’t you keep it?”

The girl’s eyes twinkled. “Really? You’d let me have it?”

Amy shrugged. “It doesn’t fit me anymore anyway.” Five years had passed since she last wore the set and Amy had grown a couple of inches taller in that time. It was enough that the pants now sat atop her ankles awkwardly. “Now get changed to your clothes, you should get home before dark.”

Cream thanked her profusely and disappeared back into the wardrobe for the last time. Amy hung as much as she could on the clothes hangers that were strewn about and laid it all on the edge of the bed.

“Do you mind?” She motioned to the hat on Metal’s head. He looked up momentarily and gently lifted it from around his ears to hand to her. “Let me help you with these.” Amy unraveled each of the silky scarves from around him, being careful not to snag the fabric on his pointed shoulders. It was in vein, however, as one of the corners of a gauzy red handkerchief caught around his left side where the tear from his missing arm was jagged. “Oh, shoot…” Amy lamented softly. Metal realized this and hung his head timidly.

When Cream came out, she held up yet another hanger. “Hey Amy, what’s this?”

A bomber-style jacket hung from the plastic frame. It was made of supple black and white satin and adorned with an embroidered rose emblem over the heart.

“Oh…” Amy turned and examined it. “I thought this would made me look tough, but I could never fill it out right,” she giggled. “I just never really wore it.”

“That’s a shame, it’s so nice.” Cream gazed at the jacket, admiring the floral patch. Then she looked up and caught sight of Metal Sonic, who was still sitting quietly on the bed. “Hey, I bet it would look nice on Metal,” she smiled.

“Oh, Cream, don’t bother him with that…”

She approached Metal anyway, holding up the piece. “Would you like to try it on?”

Metal Sonic took a closer look at the soft jacket. It was padded lightly around the shoulders. He stood up then, holding his hand out to her.

Cream gasped with joy, running around the back of the lanky robot. “Hold your arm back, actually!” She had to stand on the bed to slide it over him completely. “What do you think?”

Metal limped toward the full-length mirror that stood next to the wardrobe. He’d momentarily caught sight of himself in it earlier, but this was the first time he really examined his body. He observed his pointy nose and ears. His long, sharp limbs. The noticeable scratch in the paint at the top of his head and the exposed wires that dragged under his right leg. He was frightening. More than that- he was dangerous. Metal had taken the jacket in the hopes it would obscure some of his edges. The left side of it laid limply past the shoulder, but the jacket fit him otherwise and served to soften his appearance. The girls crowded around him suddenly, singing praises.

“It fits you perfectly, Metal.” remarked Amy.

“You look so cute!” Cream giggled.

Amy reached over to zip the jacket most of the way up for him and smoothed it over his shoulders. “I think you should keep it- if you want to that is.”

They both looked up at him expectantly. The unanticipated praise had moved Metal. A sense of nervous joy overcame him and although his expression couldn’t change, he fixed his gaze on the three of them in the mirror and nodded with unquestionable excitement. Metal then placed a palm gingerly atop Cream’s head as she giggled and cheered.

Amy packed up the muffins she’d promised Cream to take home and walked her to the door. Metal joined Amy in seeing her out, imitating the girl as she waved back at the pair. Once Cream was out of sight, Amy closed the door gently so as not to worsen the crack in the wood. Metal was reminded of his strength then, undertaking that he would continue to act tenderly as long as he was going to be under the care of the kind pink girl and her companions.

Ch. 4 (next) 

[spacesuitsforemergency]

Oops!...I Did It Again

Word Count: 1.8k

Requested by @must-be-ryan: Oneshot idea (maybe?): Music Meister learning he has a kid in their early teens who just discovered their powers and followed in his footsteps

A/N: I tweaked it slightly so that he already knew his daughter. And btw her powers are so that she can speak and people will do as she says. Singing too, but just talking will do the trick. Also I’m literally the dumbest person on earth, I kept misspelling ‘sandwich’. I wrote this while listening to the High School Musical soundtracks

Music Meister Tagging: @silverdecepticon93

“Dad!” You shout in panic. “Help me!”

You watch as your dad comes barreling down the grand staircase of the mansion (which he had used his powers to “buy”), nearly slipping on the marble floors. It was way more hilarious because he was still in his pajamas, and had shaving cream on half his face.

He looks around the foyer, expecting to see danger, but everything looks normal. The only thing that tipped him off was his daughter standing in the front doorway, and the mail man was passed out on the porch.

“What happened?” He asked, joining you in the doorway and peering down at the dude.

“I don’t know! The guy told me to have a nice day, I said ‘drop dead’ and he just fell!” You gesture down to the man you potentially just killed.

“First of all, when someone says ‘have a nice day’, the proper response is ‘you too’.” Your dad corrects. “Second of all, is he actually dead?”

“I don’t know! Why do you think I yelled for help?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

Dennis reaches down and finds the mail mans pulse, sighing in relief when there is indeed one.

“He’s not dead...” he stands back up. “How did you do that?”

“What part of ‘I don’t know’ do you not understand?” You cross your arms, frustrated because you’re freaking out and he’s not helping so far.

“Is that sass, Missy?” He puts a hand on his hip.

“Dad! You’re not helping!”

“Okay, okay!” He nods, racking his brain for ideas. Then it hits him. “Oh my god, my darling! You must have developed your powers!”

“What? I thought you said I was too old to get them anymore?” You ask as he wraps you in a bear hug, picking you up and twirling.

“Well I guess that was one of the rare moments I was wrong!” He cheers joyfully as he sets you down. “Okay, tell me to do something.”

“Uh...make me a sandwich?” You shrug.

Nothing happens.

“Try to add a little...emotion. Show me some urgency!” He snaps his fingers. “Give me some pizzazz!”

“Make me a sandwich!” You yell at him, making sure to pour out your frustration.

He suddenly looses emotion in his face, and at first you’re kind of freaked out. Then he robotically moves to the kitchen, opening the fridge and cupboards as he gathers sandwich ingredients. You watch with your jaw dropped as he actually makes you a sandwich, and he blinks as soon as it’s finished. He looks around in confusion, staring at the sandwich in his hands.

“Why am I making a sandwich?” He asked after a minute.

“Holy shit! I did it!” You shout in glee.

“I have taught you better manners than that, but holy shit indeed!” He mirrors your excitement as he runs back over to you. “My baby girl is all grown up!”

“Now, what do we do about the mail man?” You point to him.

“Hm. I’ll take care of this. You go eat, you need some energy for the day we’re going to have!” He grins.

“What are we doing?” You ask.

“My dear, darling daughter, we are celebrating!” He sang. “I’ve been waiting for this day for 15 years! You are getting proper attire for villainy, and we are planning your first heist tonight!”

“Aw! Dad!” You groan in disgust when he kissed you on top of the head, his shaving cream getting in your hair. “Thanks a lot! Now I have to wash my hair again!”

•

“So what color scheme are we going for?” Your dad asks.

“I am not wearing your hideous green and purple.” You mumble as you stare at the stuff he already picked out in resentment. You were currently in some department store, picking out your new villain fit with your dad.

The past couple hours were almost torture, your dad just wouldn’t stop fawning over you. He was so excited and proud though, you couldn’t even get angry at the guy. He was thrilled to begin passing the torch down to you, and both of you were eager to get started.

“Um, I think you mean the gorgeous combination of lime and violet?” He scoffs, clearly offended. “It is one of the only things me and my dear friend Edward can agree on.”

“Well you and your dear friend Edward are wrong.” You shake your head.

“Y/N, it is not rocket science. Just pick something. We still need to give you a name.” He shoved the rack of clothing at you.

“Oh, I picked that out when I was 9.” You say, finally actually looking through the clothes, despite already knowing you wouldn’t like any of it.

Even after your father gave you the news that you would most likely not develop powers since you had passed the age he had received them, you still wanted them. You wanted to become just like your dad, he was your idol. You of course would never tell him that, his ego was way too big already.

“You...you did?” His voice cracks, a smile making its way to his face as he tears up.

“Are we really getting sappy right now?” You sigh.

“No!” He quickly wiped his tears. “No, of course not. What is it, dear? Tell me.”

“Siren. Hypnotic powers through voice? What do you think?” You grin.

“It’s fitting, dramatic, mysterious, threatening. I love it!” He hugs you for about the millionth time today. “Honey you have no idea how happy I am to hear that!”

“Hear what?” You wheeze from the tight hug.

“To hear that you picked out a name! To hear that you’ve wanted this for so long!” He finally let’s go to let you breathe properly. “Now, Siren, have you choosen your attire?”

“Yeah yeah. I hate it though.” You say sarcastically, pretending to be disgusted by the color combo.

You stuff the clothes into your bag, both of you getting ready to slip past the workers. You hear someone clear your throat behind you, and see Karen the Manager. The worst villain of all.

“I’m calling security. Don’t think I didn’t see that.” She sniped at you, sneering at the both of you before saying into her com; “We got a couple of lowlifes trying to smuggle some merchandise.”

“Lowlifes, Karen?” You glare at her. “You can just drop dead, lady!”

Then she falls to the ground.

“Oops, I did it again.” You wince.

“Lesson Number 1, you have got to stop saying that to people.” Your father shakes his head at you. “Not to worry! But we should get out of here before-“

“Hey! Stop right there!” A mall security guard shouts from the entrance of the store.

“Dad, what do we do?” You ask, panicked at this point.

“This is perfect practice! Siren, if you will.” He gestures to the guards coming for the both of you.

“What?!” Your eyes widen.

“Go on!” He nudges you, like a mother bird kicking its hatchling out of the nest. “Lesson Number 2, come up with it on the spot!”

“Stop!” You shout at the guards, and they freeze. “Okay uh...let us go. This never happened.”

“This never happened.” The 3 men nod, still frozen.

You and your dad creep past them, then book it out of the department store. You race down the hallways of the mall, shoving people out of your way. More mall cops pursue you as you dash towards the doors.

“Get the car! I’m right behind you!” Your dad pushes you through the doors.

“But I can’t drive!” You protest as he tosses you the keys.

“Lesson Number 3, go with the flow, my dear!” He grins before turning to deal with the guards.

You reluctantly rush to the car, not really sure how to even start it. You quickly figure it out, then drive to the entrance. Your dad sprints out a moment later, practically falling into the car.

“Step on it!” He screeches as police cars pull up from behind you.

You speed forward, barreling down the road. Your dad grabs the wheel to help guide you, while also looking back every so often to watch the police cars in pursuit.

“This is a lot of trouble for the ugliest outfit ever!” You yell in alarm as you nearly rear end someone, but your dad quickly swerves.

“It’s for the drama, darling!” Your dad beams, turning the radio on. “Plus the publicity!”

“Ew, this song is awful.” You scrunch your nose when he doesn’t change the station.

“I’m a little busy at the moment!” He yells, taking out his music staff and shooting music beams at the police from the sunroof.

You finally lose the cops after awhile, your dad plopping back into the passenger seat. When you make it to your house you stumble out of the car, shaking from the adrenaline rush.

“I’d say that went pretty well for your first crime.” He says after a few moments of silence.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” You groan.

“Wasn’t that such a thrill?” He ignores you, strutting up to the door. “How do you feel?”

You respond by throwing up in the well trimmed bushes, Dennis cringing as his daughters’ retches. He inches towards you, awkwardly rubbing your back in a weak attempt to comfort you. When you finish he guides you inside and to the table, quickly grabbing you a glass of water.

“You’re okay right?” He asks, concerned. “I didn’t freak you out, did I? I’m a horrible father, I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. I’ve scarred you for life! I am a disgrace! An imbecile! Wretched! Diabolical! Heinous! Wick-!”

“Chillax, drama queen.” You giggle. “The only thing I’m scarred with is the fear of driving ever again.”

“So...you’re okay?” He asks timidly.

“Of course, that was awesome!” You grin. “Did you see me beat Karen? And the cops? And when I almost hit that one guy crossing the road but I didn’t? I just committed my first felony!”

“Hell yeah, you did!” He cheered, giving you the most over the top high five ever. “So I didn’t give my baby any emotional trauma?”

“No, dude! That was so cool! I’m so ready for the next heist!” You give him your best evil grin.

“Thank god, because I already got these custom made.” He pulls a case out of his pocket, opening it to reveal a pair of visors identical to his.

You smile up at him, and this time you initiated the hug. You thank him and kiss him on the cheek, before taking the visor and putting it on. You look in the reflection of the wall length window, then turn to your dad, who has a proud smile on his face.

“How do I look?” You ask.

“You look all grown up...” Dennis sniffles, tearing up once again.

“Dad!”

“I’m sorry! I promise I’ll stop crying one of these days!”

[kindofcashton]

𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕  •  chapter 8  (Calum Hood AU)

I WAS DEAD on my feet at work the next morning.  A terrible night’s sleep combined with a headache like a hammer on my temple made for one awful wake up call.  I suppose the headache was the universe’s way of punishing me for blowing up at Jeremy.  After reflecting on our argument, I decided that although my points were valid I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up.  We were both in the wrong, and yelling never solved anything.

Hannah could tell something was wrong with me by the way I fumbled on my way out the door.  She had stood in front of it with eyebrows raised, silently demanding an explanation before I left.

Taking a deep breath, I’d only said, “Later” before breezing out the door to catch the bus.  I hoped she wasn’t mad at how distant I’d been; I didn’t need another person angry at me.

Roger also wanted to know how things with Jeremy went, but from the look on my face he found his answer.  I moved robotically for the first few hours of my shift, almost liking the automatic way I made the drinks and served them.  I liked the lack of emotion involved, because lately all emotions just made my life more complicated.

Unfortunately, my break from emotions didn’t last very long.  When my shift was nearing it’s end and I was busy wiping down the counter, a familiar figure stepped up to cast a shadow over me.

“Hi, Scarlett.”

Jeremy wore a tight expression, clearly smiling out of force.  His hands were in his pockets like he always did when he was uneasy, and I straightened up.  I couldn’t say I was surprised; Jeremy seemed like the kind of guy to make gestures like this.  I just didn’t know if I liked it or not.

“Can we talk?” he asked under his breath, glancing over at Roger who was nosily eavesdropping while he pretended to clean the espresso machine that I’d just cleaned a half hour ago.

I merely nodded.  “My shift ends in fifteen minutes.”  I turned around so I didn’t have to look at him.  Seeing Jeremy made me sad.  Not a sad in the I-miss-you sort of way, more like a grieving sadness.  It just felt over, and I was sorry to see such a promising relationship go up in flames so quickly.  

After hanging up my apron and fending off Roger’s endless questions with a vow to text him later, I joined Jeremy and walked outside.  It was a beautiful day, but I couldn’t enjoy the sunlight when everything was gloomy inside of me.

Licking my lips, I decided I was the one who should go first.  “I’m sorry, Jer.  I said some things I didn’t mean last night, things you didn’t deserve.  I’m sorry.”  I hoped I sounded sincere; I genuinely was sorry for blowing up.

He broke into a grin, which surprised me.  Then he pulled me into a tight hug, and I was so shocked my arms remained limp at my sides.

“I’m so sorry too, Scarlett.  I didn’t mean anything I said.”  He pulled back, but the grin on his face remained.  “I knew we’d just apologize and move on.”

His optimism made me sick to my stomach.  He actually thought a simple I’m sorry would suffice for the things we said to each other?  I pulled my hand out of his, taking a step back to distance us.

“Jeremy, I said I regret some of the things I said.  But a lot of things were true, and are still true despite an apology.”  I would always like Jeremy, because he was too damn charming to resist.  In terms of liking him more than that, however, I knew I couldn’t anymore.  Not after gaining a new perspective and realizing how utterly incompatible we were.

Jeremy scowled, looking confused.  “What do you mean?  How am I supposed to fix this if an apology won’t work?”

I sighed, rubbing my forehead as the headache returned.  “You can’t fix it, Jer.  And trust me, I hate not being able to fix things even more than you.  But...this, us...is over.”  Saying the words reopened the pit of sadness inside of me, and loneliness swept over me like a tidal wave.

Inhaling sharply and squaring his shoulders, Jeremy nodded once.  “Alright, fine.”  I could tell he was trying to act tough, and his hazel eyes were steely.  “See you later, Scarlett.”  He turned on his heel and stalked off, and I watched him disappear all the way down the street before walking away myself.

On the bus ride home I texted Roger a long paragraph explaining what had happened, and his supportive responses cheered me up a little bit.  The person I really wanted to talk to was Hannah, because she always knew what to say in situations like this.

She was curled up on the couch when I got home, flipping through the channels as she snacked on some popcorn.  Upon seeing me she muted the TV and patted the spot next to her.

“Alright, now you have to tell me what’s up.  Why were you arguing with Jeremy last night?”

Briefly I wondered how she knew.  I thought only Calum had overheard us.  Of course he told her, I thought with a sigh.  He could never mind his own business if his life depended on it.

Stealing some popcorn to stall time so I could come up with an explanation, I shrugged.  “It just wasn’t working out.  Our lives weren’t heading in the same direction, and I felt like I had to end it.”

She looked stunned.  “Wait, you ended it for real?  I thought this was just a fight!  That you’d want advice on how to make it up to him or what to say!  But you broke up?”

I frowned, irritated slightly that she thought I would’ve wanted to make it up to him.  “Hannah, I realized the guy was a self-centered flake, so I dumped him.  Why would I want to be with someone like that?”

“No, you’re right,” she insisted.  “I just thought he seemed so nice when we met him.  I didn’t catch any red flags.”  Hannah was just as charmed by him as I was, which made sense.  

“He was nice,” I said, and I remembered when Calum made fun of me for saying this about him.  “But he was also...inconsiderate, and kind of a douche when it came to certain things.  I don’t even have time for a relationship, really, not with school and the cafe.”  I wished this wasn’t true; I liked having companionship, someone to rely on who relied on me.  But the emotional weight was too much to bear on top of everything else, and I hadn’t even told Jeremy the truth about most of my life.  What kind of relationship did we have if I was lying to him?

Hannah chewed at her lip, and I knew she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how.  Sighing, I said, “Alright, spill it.  What’s on your mind?”

She adjusted her position to face me head on, grabbing my hands.  “Okay, look, don’t take this the wrong way, but...you dropped out, Scar.  You’re not in school anymore, so why spend so much time studying?  What are you trying to achieve?”

I bit my lip, embarrassed at how it sounded when she said it out loud.  “I know it’s crazy, and a little obsessive, and a little pointless...but I have to go back.  Somehow I need to finish my degree, and start doing what I love.  I don’t want to float through life with no plans and no future.”  That was what Jeremy was doing, and I wanted the exact opposite.

Hannah gave me an understanding smile.  “Of course you should go back to school when you can.  But I’m talking about right now.  You’ve been to hell and back this year, Scarlett.  And not once did you take a break to focus on yourself.”

Her words were like a slap in the face.  I had been going and going ever since my parents died, refusing to slow down in case I slipped up.  But it didn’t matter; I worked harder than ever and still had to drop out.  And now I was nearly killing myself doing work that didn’t matter, and why?  Maybe to prove something to myself, or my dead parents, or the school that kicked me out.  Or maybe I was doing it because if I stopped, I’d have to think about them.  I’d have to come to terms with the fact that my parents were dead, and I was alone.

Looking into Hannah’s earnest eyes, I knew it wasn’t time to stop yet.  I would just reroute my priorities a little, give myself a night off once in a while.  “Alright,” I conceded.  “I did just break up with a guy, so I could use some cheering up.  Any ideas?”

Hannah grinned devilishly, a million ideas already shining in her eyes.  “I say we go out tonight, just the two of us.  There’s nothing a little fruity alcohol and drunk dancing can’t fix.”

I couldn’t help the smile that came to my lips, and I gave Hannah a tight hug.

“What’s with the love fest?” Michael’s voice sounded, and I leaned back to see him and Calum fall onto the couches across from us.  Calum’s expression was as sour as ever, full lips set into a deep frown.

“Scarlett is a freshly single woman, so we need to hit the town.  No boys allowed.”  Michael stuck his tongue out at Hannah, who giggled.

“Single, huh?” Calum said, eyes narrowed slightly.  I lifted my chin, trying to appear confident.

“Yep.  Broke up with Jeremy this morning.”

Michael whistled.  “Hell yeah, leave him in the dust.  You need a guy who’d move mountains for you.”  I smiled at him, grateful for the support.  Michael was such a sweet guy, he was almost as good at cheering me up as Hannah.

Someone who didn’t look very cheerful was Calum.  I thought the news of my breakup would thrill him, and give him a chance to get some final digs on Jeremy.  But he was oddly silent, as if processing the information.  It was one of the first times he couldn’t look at me, and I almost missed feeling warm under his gaze.

Hannah and I went out shopping for the rest of the afternoon, another part of her plan to cheer me up.  The day was too beautiful not to ignore, and I felt like the weather was celebrating my freedom as well.  I was beginning to love the city, and all of it’s quaint little secrets.  I started to recognize people, make acquaintances where before I felt so stranded.  It still didn’t feel like my city, but it was a lot better than it was before.  

We ransacked shop after shop, convinced we had to find the perfect outfit for tonight.  I must have tried on a hundred dresses, some downright awful.  But laughing about the ugly ones with Hannah was releasing some of the anxiety that had been trapped in my heart for so long, and I actually felt like I could breathe.  We ended up buying two cheap, skimpy dresses to wear tonight and sauntered home, bubbling with joy as we burst through the front door.

A heated card game was ensuing at the kitchen table between the guys, who barely noticed us when we came in.  They noticed when we came back down, though; these dresses were shorter than most that Hannah and I wore, with slinky fabric and thin straps.  Paired with chunky heels, we looked incredible.  What’s better is we knew we looked incredible.

Ashton’s jaw hit the floor when we floated into the kitchen to say goodbye before we left.

“Absolutely not,” he protested when Hannah gave him a peck on the cheek.  “How am I supposed to let you leave when you look like that?”  I smiled at how flustered he was around his girlfriend, and Hannah looked thrilled.

“Sorry, baby.  Girls only.”  She didn’t sound sorry at all, and her cherry red lips smirked at her boyfriend.

He wouldn’t let her hand go, and she leaned over to give his neck a kiss.  Ashton groaned.  “Please can I come?  I’ll be good, I promise.”  She giggled against his skin and pulled her arm away.

“No, Ash,” she whined at him.  “This is a girl’s night.  Besides, I’ll be busy all night trying to find Scarlett a worthy replacement for the dick she dropped today.”

“Already?” Luke asked, and I shot him an innocent wink.

“Who says I can’t have some fun?  I am single, after all.”  I was looking at Luke but hurling my words at Calum.  Anything to make him speak, because his eerie silence was unnerving me.  But he just shifted in his seat, taking a swig of beer and not even looking up at me.  I missed his harsh comments; at least then he was paying attention.  This stony silence was somehow even worse.

Hannah’s phone buzzed, and she linked her arm in mine before giving a mock salute to the guys.  “Our uber’s here, so that’s our cue to go.  Have fun with your little card game!”  Hannah cackled down the driveway, and I was out of breath from laughing as we climbed into the car.

“Ashton is gonna kill you,” I told her.

She looked smug.  “Oh, no he won’t.  He’ll do something much, much worse to me later.”  I hit her arm and we fell on top of each other laughing, causing the driver to give us a puzzled look in the rear view mirror.

I was already tipsy from happiness before we even got to the club.  It was packed, just like any other night, and I relished the way we disappeared into the crowd.  Tonight I could be someone, anyone else.  I didn’t have to be Scarlett, the girl with dead parents and more emotional baggage than an airport.  I could be daring, sexy, a risk-taker.  I could go home with one guy, ten guys, or no guys.  The night was up to me, and the control made my heart swell with delight.

Hannah and I ordered round after round of fruity margaritas, until we were so drunk we couldn’t contain our sudden bursts of laughter.  Everything was funny, from the bartender’s goatee to some girl’s polka dress.  At one point we were so wasted we could barely stand up to dance, and had to hold on to each other as we swayed unsteadily on the dance floor. 

When we’d collapsed at a table by the wall, another round of drinks in our hands, I took a long sip until half the glass was gone.  I loved the way being drunk made me so happy and giggly; I had absolutely no worries on my mind.  But I was still curious, and as I chewed on some ice I asked Hannah, “What is it like having Ashton?”  The question was worded poorly due to my intoxication, but drunk Hannah spoke drunk Scarlett’s language well.

She thought about it for a minute, or was just trying to remember how to form words.  “He’s like...my soulmate, dude.”

I let out a pssh of disbelief, and knocked back the rest of my drink.  “I thought soulmates were bullshit.”

She shook her head insistently and grabbed my hand.  “I did t-too,” she slurred.  “But I swear to God, he gets me.  Like, more than I get myself, you know?  Which can be an-annoying.”  She blinked slowly, orienting herself.  “I hate when he knows I’m bullshitting him, ‘cause that means I can’t bullshit him.” 

“So you think you’re like, meant for each other?” I yelled over the loud music.

Hannah sighed, sloshing her drink slightly.  “Even if we don’t stay together, he’ll always be my soulmate.  I could marry some other random guy, and Ash would still be my soulmate.”  She slapped the table for effect.

As my brain attempted to make sense of her jumbled words, I noticed a pair of eyes on me from across the club.  They belonged to a dirty blonde guy with a slight smile, who wasn’t trying to hide the fact that he was watching me.  When he saw me look over, his eyebrows raised, insinuating that I go over and join him.

Raising my empty glass to Hannah, I stood up from the table.  “Well, I’m gonna have that guy over there buy me another drink.  Maybe he’s been my soulmate after all!”

Hannah slapped my bum as I stumbled past.  “Go get ‘em, tiger!” she called after me, and I pumped my fist.  Crossing the floor in my heels was no easy feat, and I nearly tripped into people a few times.  As I moved through the crowd, I lost sight of the guy I was trying to find, and my vision was swimming as faces began blending in with one another.  I ended up by a corner of the club, and leaned against the wall for support.  Suddenly standing straight up was difficult, and I felt my body tilting towards the ground until someone grabbed on to me.

“Almost lost you there for a second,” came an oily voice.  Through my fuzzy vision I made out dirty blonde hair hanging in front of glinting gray-blue eyes.  Lips parting as I tried to form words, I gasped as I felt his stubble scratching against my cheek as he kissed me.  He tasted like bourbon and smelled like sweat, and his hands were too big and too rough as they prodded my body.  I felt my dress riding up and the straps sliding off my shoulders.  It wasn’t necessarily an enjoyable sensation, but kissing this guy was getting my mind off everything else, and that’s what I wanted, right?

I groaned slightly when he squeezed my thigh particularly hard, which he took as a positive sign and moved his hands even higher.  His tongue was berating my own, and I was nearly choking as I ran out of air.  Thankfully his mouth moved its assault to my neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin there.  I took big gulps of oxygen, trying to stop the room from spinning while my body fizzled with electricity.  I let out an unrestrained giggle as the alcohol still messed with my mind, my body reacting one way but my brain reacting the opposite.  I knew what this guy was doing was wrong, but when I was drunk everything had a funny, rosy glow that made me giggle. 

The guy was moaning as he kissed down to my collarbone, and I felt his hard arousal against my leg.  This managed to send off a loud enough warning bell to break through the drunken clouds in my brain.  I was not about to have sex with some random guy in the middle of a crowded club, no matter how ecstatic I felt inside.  My hands tried pushing him off, but he was stronger.

“What’re you doing, sweetheart?” he grumbled against my skin, gripping me tighter.  I winced at how rough he was being, and panted shakily.

“Nothing, just--wouldn’t this be better in private?”  My smile was breathless, and he must have misinterpreted my giddiness to be suggestive.

“You’re a fun one, eh?” he asked, and I reattached my lips to his.  If I kept him busy up here enough maybe he’d forget his plan to get in my pants, or dress so to speak.

And then a voice broke through the haze surrounding us, causing me to rip my lips away.

“Fun?  That’s a new one for you Scarlett.”

I didn’t know if I was so drunk I’d started hallucinating, or if Calum Hood was actually standing in front of me.  His arms were folded nonchalantly, expression plain as he took in the sight before him.

Struggling to stay upright, I used the guy’s shoulder for support.  “C-Calum?” I stuttered, hiccuping.  I couldn’t keep his frame in focus as I went in and out of consciousness.  I was so drunk I was on the verge of passing out, something I’d never done before.

“I think it’s time you dismount from this skeeve,” he suggested, making me scowl.  Who was he to say what I could and could not do?  I was having fun with a stranger who wanted to kiss me, and I wasn’t about to let him stop me.

“Oh, piss off,” I slurred, sloppily dragging my lips along the guy’s jaw.  Briefly I found it funny that I didn’t even know his name, and another giggle fell from my mouth.  The sound caused Calum’s brows to furrow.

“Are you sure you want to be doing that?” he warned, stepping a little closer.

The guy glared his way, grabbing my hair as if to show his possession.  “I think she told you to piss off, jackass.  Besides, she’s my piece not yours.”

A small smirk drifted across Calum’s lips.  “Right.”  I thought that was the end of it, and that he’d turn around and leave.  I was sorely mistaken as, in a flash of movement, Calum ripped the guy away from me, causing me to stumble against the wall and fall to the floor.

“What the fuck?” the guy shouted, raising his fist to swing.  But Calum got to him first, and grabbed him by the shirt collar.  Fear filled the eyes of the stranger, as Calum’s dominating frame cast a shadow over him.

“You’re the one who needs to piss off, now,” he said through clenched teeth, his tone deadly.  The guy glanced at me for a second, as if weighing whether or not I was worth the trouble.  Apparently I wasn’t, because he took off a second later.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back against the wall, liking the feeling of being on the floor as I was hit with a wave of exhaustion.  I felt someone kneel before me, but kept my eyes shut as I chuckled softly.

He sighed.  “Jesus, you’re really wasted, aren’t you?”

I shrugged, splaying my hands out and grinning.  “Who really knows?”  Finally opening my eyes, I poked a finger at his chest.  “Why’d you have to ruin things?  I was having fun.”

Calum scoffed.  “Oh yeah, getting taken advantage of is super exciting.  Didn’t you realize he was about to have sex with you in the middle of a club?”

My lips fell into a pout.  “We’re not in the middle, more like off to the side.”  He sighed again.  “Anyway, I don’t need you to swoop in and save me.  I can handle myself.”

“Sure you can,” he mocked.  “You look really strong sitting on this dirty floor.”

I frowned, struggling to get up on my own as I attempted to prove him wrong.  He reached out to steady me, but I pushed his hand away. “Stop helping me,” I grumbled, finally making it to my feet.  He watched me closely the whole time, making me scowl.  “Stop looking at me, too.”  Calum shook his head in disbelief, hands on his hips in impatience.  

“I’m trying to help you, here.”

“Well stop helping me,” I cried, tripping slightly into his chest.  His hands steadied my arms, fingers warm against my buzzing skin.  “Just leave me alone.  All you do is make me upset.”

He looked a little surprised, but kept most of his composure as he looked into my eyes.  We were close, with my fists balled against his chest and his face mere inches away.  My eyes flitted to his lips, and then I tried to wrestle away.

“I told you to stop looking at me,” I whined.  Finally he conceded and let me go, but still seemed poised to catch me if I fell again.  I pulled the hem of my dress down and adjusted the straps, trying to appear put together in my disarrayed state.

But then defeat overwhelmed me, making my shoulders sink.  “Where’s Hannah?  I just wanna go home.” 

“She’s with Ashton.  That’s actually why I’m here; he was going crazy back at the house and dragged me here with him so he could be with her.”

For some reason this made my chest pinch.  “So you didn’t come here for me?” I asked, my question nearly drowned out by the music.  But Calum heard it loud and clear.

He hesitated before answering.  “No, I didn’t come here for you.”

My heart sank, and I couldn’t handle the excruciating heat of being so close to him.  I pushed past him to head for the door, but he was hot on my trail in case I needed help.  The cold air was a welcome relief as I ripped my heels off and carried them in my hand.

“We can wait in the car, I’ll text Ashton.”  I hardly heard him as I fell into the backseat.  He sighed before shutting the door and getting into the driver’s seat.

Sitting up just enough so I could see his face eyes in the rear view mirror, I slurred, “I’m not gonna say thanks.”

He met my gaze in the reflection, and I almost drowned in his brown eyes.  “That’s okay.”  His voice was soft, and the sound lulled me into a sleepy haze.  I wanted to say something else, but exhaustion took over my body and the words never came out.  Within a minute, sleep pulled me under.

[until-theend-oftheline]

The Ikea Test

Pairing: Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: Pregnant Reader, a playful dig at Swedish people (I’m danish it’s what we do. Nothing is meant by it)    

Word Count: 1500ish

A/N: This is thought part of my LLL universe but as always it can also be read as a stand-alone. 

Betaed by: @blacktithe7 thank you, sweetie!

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

It had been a long day and you were absolutely exhausted as you sat in the new armchair in your daughter’s nursery. It was your own fault really. Sebastian had been willing to pay to get designer products if that had been what you wanted. It just wasn’t. 

You weren’t poor by any means but you also weren’t Beyonce or whatever Hollywood actor brought in the big bucks that the moment. You didn’t mind. New York was an expensive city to live in, but it was home to Sebastian. Truth be told you were really starting to love it too. Every street corner was starting to bring with it memories. Happy memories of a life with the sweetest, kindest man you had ever met; a man who, luckily enough, adored you as much as you did him. 

So since you weren’t looking to leave New York anytime soon you just had to think a little about how you spent your money. You still lived way above average, but you knew a baby was pretty expensive. This was why you had insisted that baby clothes didn’t need to be designer brands to be comfortable and cute. You also didn’t need a room you would only use in that form for a year or two to cost an arm and a leg. Which was why you had dragged Sebastian with you to Ikea, jokingly telling him that if your relationship could sustain a trip like that, there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t be able to weather.

Sebastian had just rolled his eyes at you, but as you had entered the maze that was the department store, he had started to see the reality of your joke. Luckily, Sebastian loved shopping with you, no matter if it was clothes for one of you or things for the house, but especially when it was for your daughter.

Sebastian had been so excited ever since the first scan, but it had taken new heights after he learned you were having a baby girl. He brought home little outfits or toys she wouldn’t be able to play with for months or years all the time. You rolled your eyes at him, but the truth was, you found it endearing. You were so happy to see how excited he was to meet her, and you loved how tactile he was with you. He always was, but the further along you got in your pregnancy, the more handsy he got. Not in a sexual way necessarily, more protective and loving. 

He was actually enjoying Ikea with you, so it wasn’t really much of a test in the typical sense. It was more a test of his sense of direction, or lack there off. Which did put your patience to a test in return. All in all, it had been an amazing day, and you had returned home with a mobile, the armchair you were currently sitting in breezing through the book of baby names, a dresser that had yet to be collected, and the crib Sebastian was sitting on the floor trying to assemble.

“How about Lea?” you asked only looking up from the book when Sebastian answered shortly. 

“No.”

You frowned, a little annoyed with his quick dismissal of the name, but you also had a hard time holding onto that anger as you looked at him. His hair was still long from playing Bucky. He was keeping it that way in case they called him back for reshoots unless he got another role that would force him to cut it. He had currently pulled it back into a small ponytail but loose strands had escaped the rubber band prison and were framing his concentrated face as he struggled with the frame of the crib. 

“You can’t just say no,” you scolded without any anger in your voice, as you extended your leg poking his side with your fuzzy socked foot. “Give me a reason why?”

“Because,” Sebastian looked up at you, blowing the hair away from his face which only helped for about five seconds. “You said you wanted her last name to be Stan.”

“Lea Stan,” you chewed the inside of your cheek, before nodding. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work. Next.”

“Honey. I’m kinda busy here,” Sebastian sighed, making you smile wider. 

“I could help you?” you offered, making Sebastian shake his head.

“No. You’ll get cold on the floor. Stay up there,” he ordered, making you roll your eyes at him. 

“Yes. Sir.”

“Sorry,” Sebastian sent you a sheepish smile, knowing how much you hated him ordering you around. It didn’t happen often. He wasn’t that kind of guy, but a few poorly chosen words at the wrong time had definitely taught him his lesson. Luckily you appeared to be in a great mood. You waved him off returning your attention to the book. 

“How about Georgeta?” Sebastian offered absentmindedly as he returned his attention to the puzzle of furniture pieces in front of him. 

“No.”

Sebastian smirked, fully expecting that answer, but he still couldn’t help but poke fun at you. 

“You can’t just say no. Give me a reason?” Sebastian mocked your voice, making you laugh and gently poke his side with your foot again. That earned a hearty laugh from Sebastian as he looked up at you with sparkling eyes. 

“Because sweetheart. As much as I love your mother and I do love her,” you assured him, making his smile widen. “I do not want our kid to get picked on all the way through high school.”

“Fair enough,” Sebastian chuckled, groaning to himself as he seemed to have lost some piece of the eventual crib in front of him. 

“What about Victoria?” you suggested, wiggling your nose in thought, not completely sold on that one yourself. 

“It’s a little posh isn’t it?” Sebastian muttered, halfway paying attention. “It there a logic to the names you are picking?”

“Yeah. I was trying to find something that could work in danish, Romanian and English. And that works with Stan, and it cute,” you listed making Sebastian laugh. 

“That’s not gonna be easy, darling,” he teased before groaning in frustration again. 

“Seb, just let me help.” You closed the book, pushing yourself toward the edge of the chair, ready to get on the floor. 

“No, stay up there. I got this,” Sebastian let go of the crib, turning to face you, putting his hands on your thighs to prevent you from moving. Just as he did, the frame of the crib fell apart in almost slow motion, landing in four different places. 

“Clearly,” you laughed as Sebastian looked over his shoulder, but stopped as soon as you realized Sebastian wasn’t even close to as amused with the whole thing as you were. 

“Goddammit,” he yelled grabbing one of the pieces and flinging it across the floor. It startled you a little since you weren’t used seeing him lose his temper like that. You flinched but quickly regained composure, wrapping your arms around his head, and he, to your relief, leaned into your embrace straight away. 

“I should be able to do this,” Sebastian mumbled, burying his face deeper into your lap, making you smile. He was frustrated, but he didn’t take it out on you. He never did. Instead, he sought comfort in you, and you suddenly realized this was another side of him you loved dearly. 

“It’s okay. Ikea is Swedish. They overcomplicate things. That’s what Swedes do,” you reassured him, running your fingers through his hair, losing the hairband.  

Sebastian looked up at you, smiling cheekily as he spoke. “Did you just insult yourself there Y/N/N?”

“I’m Danish you idiot,” you tugged his hair, making him groan a little, “not Swedish.”

The little punishment clearly hadn’t relieved Sebastian of his sudden teasing mood as his eyes kept flickering with mischief. 

“Close enough,” he smirked, causing your eyes to widen. You quickly grabbed the baby book, gently whacking him over the head with it. 

Sebastian jumped back a little, still laughing. “Hey! What was that for?”

“I don’t call you Russian do I?” you pouted, causing Sebastian to laugh even harder as he pushed himself onto his knees, moving between your legs. 

“I. Am. So. Sorry.” Sebastian spoke, punctuating each word with a small peek to your pouty lips. 

“It will never happen again,” he promised as you started to giggle at his shenanigans. 

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck, and Sebastian grinned widely, knowing he was forgiven. 

“You love my ass,” he wiggled his eyebrows, causing you to laugh and shake your head at him as he leaned in to kiss you deeply and tenderly. 

He might not be the best carpenter in the world or even remotely close to being one at all, but he made you laugh, feel happy and loved. That was all you needed, and you would just have to make sure the crib wasn’t gonna break down with your daughter in it when Sebastian wasn’t home so his feeling wouldn’t get hurt either. You didn’t need him to be able to build you anything, but if it made him happy to try, you’d gladly let him. 

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Sebastian Stan Tag Team

@feelmyroarrrr @sleepretreat @roxyspearing @jewels2876  @hellaqueerangelofthelord @danijimenezv @rumoured-whispers @becs-bunker @smoothdogsgirl @blacktithe7 @grace-for-sale @averyrogers83 @sebs-potato @sorenmarie87 @docharleythegeekqueen @erosbellarke @the-wayward-robot @super100012 @myfanficlibrarium @winchesters-favorite-girl @awkwardfangirl2014 @igotkatiepowers @dottirose @deathofmissjackson

[lilac-masquerade]

Irritation Bonus

          It’s been three years and Illinois’s sentence was ending. Yancy was upset so Illinois and he were allowed to spend the whole day cuddled up on the bottom bunk. Yancy was trying his best to hold back tears but it was near impossible. Illinois was running a hand gently up and down Yancy’s back. “How long is you’re sentence?” Yancy let out an emotionless chuckle, “69 years.” Illinois looked at him in shock before laughing, “What?” Yancy smiled up at him, “The judge gave me 68 years and I didn’t think it would make much of a difference so I asked for one more.” Illinois shook his head, “You’re amazing dove.” Yancy smile dropped, “I don’t want to lose youse.” Illinois planted a gentle kiss on Yancy’s head, “I’ll visit every third Sunday, and you know that the guards will let me sneak in whenever I want.”

          Yancy shrugged, “It won’t be the same though…” Illinois was about to answer when a guard spoke up from in front of their cell, “Hey, Yancy, Illinois. Someone is here to see you.” They both looked up confused. Illinois cast a glance at Yancy, “It’s not visitation day, is it?” Yancy shook his head, “No it's not.” The guard opened the door and the two stood up, still confused. Yancy put his hand into Illinois’s and stepped closer. To anyone else, Yancy’s proud stature and tense shoulders would show that he was prepared for anything, but the way that he held tightly onto Illinois’s hand showed how nervous he truly was to the adventurer.

          The two followed the guard to a room that was reserved for detectives to ask convicts questions. The two looked at each other, even more confused. The guard nodded at them to go in. Yancy squeezed Illinois’s hand harder before entering the room.

           In the room was a man. He was dressed in a fine white suit and his hands were held together in front of him. He had black hair that hung over his left eye, and his skin appeared to be grey. They both stared at the man in shock, before Illinois broke the silence, “Nice suit, and must I say that eyeliner is a nice touch.” Yancy snorted as the man raised an eyebrow. The two sat down as the man leisurely waved a hand for the guard to leave. Illinois looked at Yancy shocked, both of them were wondering just who this guy was. 

          When the room was empty of all other personal the man spoke, “Greetings, I know you are wondering who I am but if you take my offer, you’ll find out soon enough. For now, you can just call me Dark.” Yancy spoke up suspiciously, “What offer. I hope youse know that thises my joint.” Dark frowned, “I know that you two have gotten close, I also know that Illinois’s sentence is ending.” Yancy tensed, “What does thats have to do with anything?” Dark held up a hand, “Let me continue. Yancy, your sentence will go on for a long time, even if you do decide to take parol. That means that you won’t be able to keep the same relationship with Illinois.” Yancy looked down, obviously upset at the reminder, “I know.” Illinois tensed up and let go of Yancy’s hand only to wrap it around his shoulder, pulling the man closer to himself. 

          Dark ignored the protective movement, “What I’m offering will only ever come from me. You two can come live at my place. Yancy, because of your sentence you will be under a sort of house arrest. You cannot leave the house under any circumstances. Well unless Wilford sets the place on fire, but that’s beside the point.” Yancy’s mouth dropped open and Illinois stared at Dark in shock. “Are, are youse serious. I means I’m not even sure that I’ll like your place,” Yancy stuttered. Dark nodded, “You can stay with us for a month if you decide that it is not to your liking you can come back here.”

           Yancy looked at Illinois with shock and hope, but there was still uncertainty in his eyes. Dark stood up and started to exit the room, “I’ll let you make your decision alone, but do keep it quick, I have other things I need to do.” He then left the room, letting the door close behind him. Yancy turned to face Illinois, “I, I don’t think I’s belong out there. I’m not sure if I’m ready.” Illinois smiled, “Trust me, you’re ready. You are so incredibly amazing, and you’ve been such a good person. Sure the culture shock would suck, but you’re not going outside so it won’t be as bad. Plus if you don’t feel comfortable you can come back here, I won’t judge” Illinois’s caressed Yancy’s cheek, smiling slightly when Yancy leaned into his touch. Yancy smiled his eyes closed, “I’ll take the offer.” Illinois chuckled and kissed Yancy’s forehead, “Then I will too.”

          The door opened as the two pulled away and Dark’s absurdly deep voice met their ears, “Are you two done like I said I have other business to attend to.” Illinois rolled his eyes, “Pushy aren’t you, but yeah we take your deal.” Dark grinned, “I knew you would now follow me.” Yancy tilted his head confused, we’re just going to walk out?” Dark raised an eyebrow, “Yes. Problem?” Illinois and Yancy looked at each other thinking the same thing, who is this man?

          When they got outside Dark led them to a secluded area which instantly rose the anxiety of the two ex-prisoners. When they were out of sight from any people or cameras everything seemed to glitch out until the two were standing in front of a giant mansion. Before the two could ask anything Dark held up a hand, “I know you two are confused, but there will be much more… puzzling things ahead so I suggest that you prepare yourselves.” The two glanced at each other once more, both wondering if they made the right choice.

          When Dark opened the door two men dressed exactly the same and looked exactly the same, slid into the hallway, “Welcome back Dark Jim and other Jims, we are Jim!” Yancy blinked, confused, “So youses both Jim?” Dark rolled his eyes, “They’re twins, but they’re one of the more normal residents of this house.” As Dark finished speaking a man with a pink mustache, a pink bowtie, a yellow dress shirt, and rainbow suspenders walked out of a different room dragging what looked like a body. He also wasn’t wearing any pants. Illinois nodded, “I see…” Dark looked behind him and sighed exasperatedly, “Goddamnit Wilford, put on some goddamn pants, and what have I said about killing people in the house, wait… IS THAT MY BRAND NEW CARPET, I JUST BOUGHT THAT WILFORD. THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS”

          “The Host watched the scene, as best as he could with a blindfold on, mildly amused,” Someone said from the place where the Jims originally stood. Dark sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “I’m sure they’ll all introduce themselves, make yourself at home.” Illinois and Yancy watched as Dark seemed to vanish, terrified. “HI, You must be the newbies! It’s great to meet you!” The two looked over to see a man with red hair in a schoolgirl outfit on. Illinois raised an eyebrow, “Well he doesn’t look that bad.” The man smiled, “Oh I’m not. Unless you try to take my senpai, then I cut you into tiny pieces, and I’ll make it slow. Oh, my name’s Yandere by the way.” The man giggled and skipped away.

         The two just stood at the front door, terrified and not wanting to go a step further into the house. “I deeply apologize for their behavior, I am Google, I will give you a tour.” A new man was standing in front of the door wearing a blue shirt with a glowing white G on it. He was also wearing black slacks. His voice was monotone and robotic. Yancy smiled, “Thank youse for the help, I’s was worried theres were no one sane here.” The robot chuckled, “I wonder the same thing sometimes too.” Illinois raised an eyebrow, what was that supposed to mean?

          The robot pointed to himself, “My name is Google, that’s the living room to the right of you.” The two looked over to see A man with a crown arguing to another man, who looked a lot more like a robot. “NO! You cannot use one of my squirrels to make a video!” The robot shrugged, “C'mon man, I just want to push him on a tiny skateboard. It’ll be totally rad!” Illinois and Yancy chuckled at that, it was a pretty ridiculous argument. Google cleared his throat, “The one with the crown is The King of the Squirrels, the other one is Bing.” Bing looked up, “Suh dudes, wanna yeet over here and convince mister fuzzypants that my idea is total ebic!” Illinois laughed, “That’s not exactly my area of expertise.”

          “Google you can stop, for now, I bet the newbies would love to be shown around by me, I mean, hello I am Bim Trimmer,” Someone said from behind the group. Illinois and Yancy turned around to see yet another man. He was dressed in a suit and tie and he wore a confident grin on his face. Behind him was someone else who was trying to hide behind Bim, but he was too tall for it to work properly. “H-h-hi, I’m E-E-Er-Eric…” Illinois raised an eyebrow, “A little shy there, aren’t ya buddy.” Eric nodded, his eyes focused on the handkerchief that he was twisting in his hands. Someone cleared their voice, “Eric I believe that it's time for your checkup, Host just finished his.” Another man in a lab coat stood in the doorway, looking at his watch. “Be polite Edward, we have guests,” Bim said with a flourish of his hand. Edward looked up, an annoyed look on his face, “It’s Dr. Iplier to you. I could have sworn I’d already told you this. Oh sorry, I forgot you were a little to dumb to understand English.” Dr. Iplier looked at the new couple, “Welcome, get out while you can.”

Part 1

OKAY SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG! Anyway, this is going to go into a series called Ego Household. I can’t get onto the plot for that yet so Imma get the Christmas special for Ego Household then maybe spit out some side stories. Thank you for reading ^-^ Also I will doing them meeting the septics in the first part of Ego Household so look forward to that

[kayteewritessteve]

Carefree

Description: Steve is stressed out and fed up, and finds himself being slightly rude with a complete stranger.

Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 5,470 ish.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: G

Warnings: None. Minus an awkward Steve. And maybe a cuss word or two, can’t remember. Oh, and maybe a slight Endgame spoiler, if you squint really hard.

Requested: Yes, from the lovely @casuallydarktiger ♥️♥️♥️ Thank you for another amazing Marvel O/S request!! You’re keeping me busy little one and I love it!!

A/N: This is an AU set in the ‘everyone lives happily in the tower’ world. But anywho, hope you enjoy!!

Stress. A simple 6 letter word that seems so small, so insignificant, so unassuming at first, when taken out of context. But when you really think about it, truly put thought into it and dig just a little deeper under the surface, it is actually a much, much larger word then it originally appears.

Take the ‘Iceberg Theory’ for example. As with an iceberg, our eyes can only see what lies above the surface, therefore allowing us to believe that that’s all that exists. But under the surface, well, that’s where the majority of its mass is actually located. Now, most of us have probably heard of this theory at some point in our lives. And know that it’s what’s hidden below, or inside, that truly makes up whichever thing it is that we are referring to. The parts we can’t see, the parts we can just pretend don’t actually exist. But deep, deep down, we know that they’re there. Just like the mass of an iceberg, quietly enduring without any help from us.

However, that’s where they differ. Stress may not always be voluntary, but the majority of the time it is brought on, or made worse, by our own doings. As we sit and worry, or overthink, or blame ourselves for the littles things. The things that really don’t matter in the grand scheme but yet, we fixate endlessly on them.

It’s a snowball effect, really. Once you start going down that proverbial rabbit hole, it’s hard to pull yourself out again. And once you allow it to worm into your mind, it usually sets up shop and decides to stay for a while. Bringing along with it a lengthy list of emotional, physical, cognitive and behavioural symptoms, as well. You know, just to make it that much more enjoyable for us all—not.

So why are we talking about stress, you ask? Well probably because right now, at this exact second, Steven Grant Rogers is a walking embodiment of the word. The very definition of stressed; which is experiencing mental or emotional strain, or tension.

Now normally, Steve’s stress levels are usually pretty high, higher than most that is. What with waking up 70 years in the future, after he thought he’d given his life for his country. Given his life to end the war. Only to then be pulled from the ice, and thrusted into a world he didn’t know. One he didn’t even recognize. And one that was still very much at war. The exact same war he believed he’d ended, 70 years ago, with his sacrifice. Yeah, that alone was enough to cause his stress to skyrocket, and stay there.

But then you add learning that aliens did, in fact, exist. As he very much had to fight against them in the streets of his own city.

Then, learning that Norse Gods were also real, and that they weren’t the only things out there in the universe. No, there is actually a vast number of beings living out there, beyond the stars. So yeah, that can really make a man feel small in comparison. And cause some very unwanted stress.

But oh, we aren’t done just yet. There was also that little fact that he’d learned about his best friend, damn near his brother. The one where it turns out that he’d actually lived through the fall, and had been alive all these years, under the control of the very organization Steve believed he had ended. And that Bucky had been doing their dirty work all along. Brainwashed and controlled. Getting Bucky back wasn’t easy, but they’d managed to do it and break the hold Hydra had on him. So that’s a plus at least.

Oh, and let’s also not forgot about the robots. Yeah, not the cute little ones used in factories or in homes. But the ones that thought for themselves, and grew smarter and stronger with the knowledge that they acquired. The ones that tried to wipe out the Avengers and take over the world. Oh yeah, that was stressful as hell. To say the least.

However, it’s what came after the robots that really stressed Steve out. The Accords. The war between the Avengers. Having to pick a side regardless of who you’d be going up against. Colleagues, friends, family. And then the whole ‘being on the run for years’ thing. And that was all before finally having to fight a mad titan—which turns out also exists, go figure.

And even though they had managed to beat Thanos, eventually. It still didn’t really relieve any of Steve’s stress. Because he knew it was only a matter of time before something else big happened. Some other threat to the world would arise, and forced him to once again put on his suit and risk his life for everyone else’s.

We also have to take into account his regular every day stress. His stress over missions. Over the people he knows, and loves, being hurt or worse. And that’s just the beginning, we aren’t even going to speak on what his PTSD adds to his stress levels, but you can imagine that it doesn’t help matters, at all.

He had gotten somewhat used to it all though, learned to live with it at least. But it seemed every day something new was added to the lengthy list of things to worry about. Today’s addition? How about Steve being informed that mandatory press releases would become a new thing in his life, and that they were to start the following day.

The Accords had been thrown out after Thanos’ attack, but the Avengers now had to answer to the public in new ways. They’d start holding press releases of their own to keep the world informed, and to help the world accept them again. To trust them again.

Steve wasn’t a fan of the limelight, he hadn’t ever been, really. Especially not back when he was the face of the US Army, doing shows all over to help recruit men and sell bonds. That wasn’t a good time in Steve's life. He’d signed up to help fight the war, not to parade around on a stage in a tight outfit, punching fake Nazi’s and making an ass of himself.

Steve sighed and glanced around the busy street he was currently walking along, yanking his ball cap down lower over his face as he did. He caught a glimpse of a coffee shop sign up ahead, one he’d never been to before and figured another cup of coffee wouldn’t do any harm. It’s not like it would stress him out anymore then he already was. And he knew it was going to be a long restless night for him, yet again, so he might as well just stay up. Drink lots of coffee and hang in the gym, making some poor punching bag suffer for his stress.

He pushed open the door and found the shop pretty empty. Aside from a few people at various tables, with books or laptops open. Lost in their own worlds and not paying any attention to the people around them. Which was a huge relief for him.

He made his way up to the counter and glanced up at the massive black chalkboard hanging on the back wall. There were a bunch of weirdly named drinks that he had no clue what they were. But before he could put anymore thought into that, a voice broke through his mind.

“See anything you like?” A feminine voice asked, and he looked down to see a small woman, with her neck twisted as she glanced up at the board with him.

“Ah, yeah. I’ll just have a coffee. Black.” He paused, “I can just get that, right?”

She giggled and turned to face him, “of course, what size can I get cha?”

“Oh, uh, a large?” He asked, hesitantly. Why ordering a simple coffee now a days was so difficult, Steve would never understand.

She just smiled sweetly and nodded, “alright, large it is, and is that to go?”

“Yes, please,” he gave a quick nod.

“Perfect, that’ll be $2.10.”

He quickly patted himself down to search for his change, pulling out his keys and a few other random things as he did. Placing them down on the counter then continuing to search. Finally he found his money, paid her, then collected up all his things and tucked them back away in his various pockets.

She smiled and gave him his change then grabbed a large to-go cup from next to the till and spun around to start making his drink, “one large black coffee, coming right up.”

Steve moved off to the side, and stood under the ‘Pick Up’ sign to wait for his drink. A few moments later she came over and handed him his drink, giant smile still on her face, “here you go, sir.”

“Thanks,” he nodded and then headed for the door. He figured it was time to head back to the tower, he’d been out all day and even with his disguise people had recognized him. Which he figured wasn’t hard, as he was rather large and sort of stood out like a sore thumb.

But all it would take is one person recognizing him, and then he’d be stuck in the same stop for hours. As once someone got a photo with him, others would then ask. It was like a domino effect, a never ending line up of fans. All asking for an autograph, a photo, or just his time.

Normally he was okay with it, normally it didn’t bother him that much. Even though he hadn’t exactly signed up for the fame. Then after the ice he’d started out anonymous, wearing a mask, but that didn’t last long. Eventually the mask was taken out of his ensemble, and the exhibit at the Smithsonian was opened, and then everyone and their dog knew who he was. Gone were the days of his anonymity.

But today, today he just wanted to be left alone. They’d all get a piece of him tomorrow, in the stupid forced press conference. The least they could do is let him have this one day to himself—Though he knew the second he felt a hand on his bicep, urging him to turn around, that that original hope was clearly asking too much.

“Sir,” the voice, he assumed was attached to the hand currently on him, spoke from behind him.

He halted his steps, hoping to brush this person off, gently but quickly, as to not draw too much attention to himself. He just wanted to be left alone.

“Look, I apologize, but I’m in a real hurry here and don’t have the time for this right now,” he said curtly. And he honestly didn’t mean for it to come out sounding so rude, but he was frustrated and just all together done with being out in public. He finally spun to face the intruding fan, “I can sign a quick autograph if you’d like, but I really have to,” his words trailed off as he took in the woman—Or rather, the super confused expression now plastered all over her face—the same woman who had just made the coffee that was currently in his hand.

“Ah,” she furrowed her brows, “I don’t want an autograph, I just wanted to give you your keys.” She held out her hand, his very distinct set of keys sitting in the middle of her palm, “you forgot them on my counter.”

“Oh, ah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like a complete ass now, then took the offered key chain. “Sorry about that, it’s just been a rough day,” he paused, then sighed, “which isn’t a very good excuse to be rude.”

“It’s fine,” she said tersely, with a clipped edge to her voice, a polar opposite tone to the one she’d used when he’d ordered his drink. “Sorry to have bothered you. Just figured you’d need those,” she nodded with her head towards his keys, then abruptly turned around and headed back towards the coffee shop, without another word. Leaving Steve standing in the middle of the busy sidewalk, keys and coffee in hand, feeling like the biggest dick in the world. Probably because at this moment, that’s exactly what he was.

“Darn it,” he sighed then tucked his stupid keys back into his pocket, before shaking his head and mumbling, “way to go, Rogers.”

With a final glance at the direction she’d just gone, but no longer seeing her, he pulled his ball cap down lower on his face once again then turned and headed back to the tower. Feeling like absolute crap the whole way there.

But even once he reached the tower, he still felt horrible for being so short with her. All she’d wanted to do was return the keys he had left behind. And then he had to go and get too big for his own britches. Assuming everyone just wanted something from him due to his super hero persona.

The whole night he was fixated on their interaction. He’d even talked to Bucky about it, the aforementioned had laughed and told him his ‘celebrity status was clearly going to his head.’ Which, didn’t help, at all. But then Buck told him to just forget about it, that things happened and that she probably didn’t even care that much.

However, he joked about keeping an eye out for any news articles about ‘The Steve Rogers, America’s golden boy, and Captain America himself’ being rude to the public; to his fans—Which again, didn’t freaking help. Nor did it ease any of Steve’s stress over the whole thing. It added to it, actually.

He spent the rest of the evening, and following morning, beating the crap out of 5 punching bags. Knowing Tony would have something to say about that, but he’d deal with those consequences later. He had bigger things to worry about at the moment.

The early morning press conference went better then Steve had thought it would. Tony and Pepper handled most of the questions. Leaving Steve and the others to just basically sit there, looking pretty and answering the odd ones that came their way. He did end up having a few more then the others, being that he was the Captain, but they were all pretty simple questions. Ones he knew the answers to, ones he’d been briefed on before hand. Though the odd praising comment from the reporters had flustered him, and reminded him that the public did, in fact, adore him. And then in turn that had reminded him that he’d been a total ass to that poor woman. And that he had to make it up to her in some way. Somehow. He just needed to.

So that’s how he found himself, pushing open the door to the little coffee shop again, and hearing the jingle of the bells above the door, as he did. Hoping that she’d be working today, so he could actually apologize and make amends.

And as his eyes scanned the shop and landed on a vaguely familiar figure behind the counter, making someone's order, he sighed and got into the line. It was a little busier in the shop today, but not by much. There was a few tables taken up again, just like the day before. And a few people in line ahead of him, which was different from the day before. But he just patiently waited for his turn.

When that finally came, he walked up to the till and as her eyes landed on his face, her smile faltered just slightly, before she corrected it and beamed up at him. To anyone else, anyone other then Steve with his super serum, the falter would have gone unnoticed. But to him, with his enhanced eyesight, he saw it in damn near slow motion.

“Large black coffee to go?” She asked, quickly. And he realized that she did, in fact, remember him. And obviously their interaction from the day before.

“Ah, yeah,” he paused then glanced around. “Actually no, I’ll take a mug this time,” he said as he looked back down at her again.

“Okay,” she nodded, “that’ll be $2.10 again.”

He had the money ready this time, not wanting to chance leaving any more of his belongings behind. He paid her and received his change and then she spun around to make his drink.

He glanced behind himself and noticed there was no one else in line now, so he just continued to stand there. Rubbing the back of his neck, awkwardly, as he tried to figure out what to actually say to her. He’d had it all worked out in his mind earlier, but being here now made what he’d come up with sound stupid.

She placed his drink on the counter, with a quick, “here you are,” and was just about to turn away from him when he spoke up.

“I ah,” he cleared his throat and she paused, turning back at him, with a confused frown on her face. He tried not to let that tongue tie him. “I just wanted to apologize—For yesterday, I mean. It wasn’t acceptable for me to be so short with you. So for that I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” she smiled sweetly up at him, “we all have hard days.”

“That doesn’t excuse being rude.”

“It doesn’t, but I get it,” she handed him his mug of coffee, “apology accepted.”

He stood there for a moment just looking at her, this woman who didn’t know him personally but so easily forgave him. So easily calmed his raging mind with two simple words. He had been so nervous about what she was going to say. He’d played out hundreds of outcomes for this moment in his mind, all throughout the night. But her just accepting the apology so quickly, so effortlessly, shocked him. That was not one of the scenarios his mind had come up with. He quickly shook his head, realizing he was still just standing there, silently staring at her. “Thank you for that,” he said earnestly then raised his mug, “and for this.”

“You’re welcome.”

He wandered over to a table near one of the front windows, setting his coffee on top and removing his jacket then sitting down. He had his messenger bag with him, as he took it everywhere, and pulled out his sketchbook and pencils. Here was as good a place as any to draw.

He spent the next half an hour enjoying his coffee, people watching, and drawing the view from the window. Or at least that’s what he’d claim he was drawing, if anyone asked. Really though, he had been secretly drawing the barista. Yeah, that may be a little creepy, but he did plan on giving her the picture. One day. Maybe.

“That’s beautiful,” a soft voice whispered above him and he turned to look up, seeing said barista gazing at his picture of her. After a moment her eyes snapped over to his and she smiled brightly at him.

“I was planning to give it to you, as a peace offering of sorts,” he shrugged and turned to look down at his drawing again. “When it’s finished.”

“Do you mind if I sit?”

“No, not at all,” he gestured to the chair beside him.

She sat down, and then put a fresh cup of coffee down in front of him, “figured you could use a refill,” she smiled at him then gestured to the sketchbook, “do you mind?”

He shook his head, “of course not,” then he handed the sketchbook over to her.

She looked it over carefully, as if to not miss a single detail, “I’ve never had someone draw me before.” She glanced up at him, “you’re very talented. Are you an artist by trade?”

He furrowed his brows, confused, but then a thought ran through his mind. Does she not know? “Uh, no. I’m not. I just draw in my free time.”

“Well, you should be,” she nodded once, as if to say her words were the truest thing she’d ever said. Then after another once over she handed back his sketchbook and smiled. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

She went to get up from the seat but just as she stood fully upright, he realized he wasn’t entirely ready for her to walk away just yet. “You can stay if you’d like,” he offered, then glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was waiting to be served. “If you won’t get in trouble, that is.”

She grinned and it was cheeky as hell, which was surprisingly different from the smiles he had seen her wear so far. But he liked it even more for that exact reason. “I don’t think the boss will mind too much, and if she does then I’ll just remind her that I’m the boss.”

“Oh,” he laughed, “you own the shop?”

She nodded quickly, “that I do. The perks of being the owner means I can take my breaks whenever I want.” She giggled then glanced around the shop, probably making sure no one was in need of assistance, then she sat back down in the seat. “If this isn’t too forward of me to ask, if you aren’t an artist then what do you do for a day job?”

He stared down at his drawing and scratched the back of his neck, nervously. Does he tell her the full truth and hope she doesn’t treat him any differently? Or does he tell her a half truth and continue on like he’s a normal guy? His eyes drifted up to hers and locked on. And he realized he’d have to be honest with her. He didn’t want to deceive her in any way.

“I’m ah,” he sat up a little straighter and extended his hand to her, “I’m Steve Rogers.”

She stared at him for a moment and then her eyes widened for just a second, before she quickly corrected it and a blush took over her cheeks. “Oh god, how did I not figure that out,” she mumbled, he assumed mainly to herself, though his super serum hearing didn’t miss it. He glanced back down at his drawing again, waiting for whatever reaction she was about to have. And then she spoke up, this time to him, “well, you offering me an autograph makes way more sense now,” she laughed, awkwardly.

“Yeah,” he laughed awkwardly with her and drummed his fingers on the table, “I apologize again for that.”

She waved it off, “don’t even worry about it. I understand even more now. It can’t be easy to deal with the public all the time.” She frowned slightly, “I can’t imagine just how difficult it is to go anywhere unnoticed.”

“It’s hard sometimes, for sure,” he nodded, “but I’m getting used to it, slowly.”

“That’s good,” she smiled, “and thank you—ya know, for keeping us all safe.”

He smiled—and blushed—not like he could have prevented either, even if he’d tried, “no thanks needed, it’s kind of my job.”

“Well still, thank you,” she said sincerely. Then the bells above the door sounded and she glanced over her shoulder to see a customer entering the shop and stood up, “I better go tend to them, but enjoy your coffee Steve,” she smiled and went to walk away but then he realized something.

“I’m sorry, I totally didn’t even ask you for your name.”

She stuck her hand out, “Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he said back, tasting the name in his mouth as he shook her offered hand, “it was really nice meeting you.”

“Same to you,” she winked then laughed and walked away to help the patron. Steve turned to look over his shoulder, watching as she headed towards the counter then smiled and turned back to his sketchbook. He was even more determined to finish this drawing now.

After an hour of sitting at the same table, drawing and drinking coffee, he got a call from Tony. Something about testing out a new feature for his suit, and needing Steve to come try it on. He packed up his stuff, returned the mug to the counter, gave her the drawing and then with a quick goodbye he exited the coffee house. Adjusting his ball cap and heading back to the tower.

Over the next few weeks he’d return to that little shop anytime he had a chance. Sometimes, when the shop was dead, Y/N would sit with him and they’d just talk about anything and everything. She treated him like an old friend. Like one that wasn’t a famous superhero from the 40’s. She was a breath of fresh air for him, someone who saw him for him. Steve. Instead of the Captain. The legend. And he loved that.

A few times Bucky would tag along on his visits to the shop, wanting to meet the woman who got Steve out of his own head and put a smile on his face. Steve was reluctant at first, but finally caved and let him tag along, knowing Buck would get fed up eventually and just go there on his own. And that wasn’t something Steve wanted. At all. But it turned out his fears for them meeting had been entirely misplaced, Y/N and Bucky hit it off instantly. So well that Buck would occasionally go get coffee on his own, when Steve was off on a mission or busy.

Word spread quickly throughout the tower of the little coffee house that the super soldiers loved. So eventually damn near every Avenger had gone there at one point or another. Clint and Tony almost going there more then Steve now. Y/N didn’t mind one bit, she treated them all just like normal people. Never once fangirling over anyone—Well, she did slightly fangirl over Nat on her first visit, but she had mentioned in passing to Steve that she had a lot of respect for the spy. For everything she stood for and had accomplished in her life. But who wouldn’t respect Nat for how far she’d come.

The more Steve visited, the fonder he grew for Y/N. She was amazing inside and out, even a blind person would have been able to see that. And as his feelings grew for her, he found that just being around her eased his worried mind and made all the stress just fall off him. Like a snake shedding it’s skin. He felt like a whole new man in her company. A feeling he desperately didn’t want to give up.

So after weeks of Bucky, Sam, Nat and Tony harassing him about asking her out, he finally caved and agreed to do it.

He pushed open the door to her shop, the bells he’d become so used to hearing, echoing around the room. To say he was nervous and stressed out about how this would go, was an understatement. He was freaking out. This was a whole new version of stressed that he’s barely ever felt before. Putting your heart on the line isn’t easy. Even for an 100 year old super soldier.

He looked up towards the till and saw just as Y/N turned to look at who was entering the shop. Upon seeing him a giant smile broke out across her face, every one of her features lighting up and accentuating the smile even more. “Steve!” She said happily as she turned back around and started to make his tried and true large black coffee.

“Hey Y/N,” he said as he reached the counter, his nerves skyrocketing the closer he got to her, “how’s the day been?”

“Good, slow,” she turned to glance over her shoulder at him, “staying or going?”

“Staying.”

“Excellent,” she nodded and turned to finish making his drink. And as her back was turned Steve but a few bucks into her tip jar.

After she’d found out who she was, she refused to allow him to pay for any of his coffees. Saying it was her thank you for all he’s done and will do for the world. So instead he’d put money in her tip jar, refusing to not pay for his drink but being at a stubborn stalemate with her. Turns out she rivalled him in the stubborn department, if that was even possible. But she wasn’t a fan of the tip thing. At all.

“Darn it Steven!” She spun around to narrow her eyes at him, “we talked about this. It’s not on the house if you just pay in the tip jar!” She picked up the jar and looked into it, “how much did you put in this time!? I’m going to force you to take it back right now.”

Steve just smirked and shrugged, refusing to tell her anything.

She glared at him then sighed and lowered the jar, putting it back on the counter, mumbling playfully, “you are so frustrating sometimes.” Then she laughed and handed him his drink, “here, and just so you know, I’m going to hide that darn jar next time you come in.”

“That won’t stop me,” he smiled and accepted the coffee, “and thanks.” Then he just stood there, awkwardly. He knew he should just ask her, the worst she could say is no. But he wasn’t ready for the rejection just yet. He just wanted to live in this moment for a second longer, the moment where there was a possibility that she’d say yes. That she’d accept his date invite and that would maybe be the start of something special. Something just for them. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, silently, but the slight frown forming on her face told him it was probably way too long of a time.

“Steve?” She said quietly, then continued cautiously, “are you okay? Did—did something happen?”

He shook his head, “no, no. Everything is okay. I just ah,” he glanced down at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck, “I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, the nerves in her voice noticeable, “what is it?”

His eyes flicked up to meet hers and he took a second just to steady his rapidly beating heart, “I was wondering, if you’d maybe like to, I duno,” he shrugged, “go out to dinner with me one day—Maybe this week?”

The frown dropped off her face, but wasn’t replaced by anything. Her expression blank and unreadable for a second before she softly asked, “like,” she cleared her throat, “as in, like a date?”

“Yeah, like a date,” he nodded then added quietly, “that is, if you’d like it to be one.”

He was just about to beg the floor to open up and swallow him whole, that is, until a glorious smile appeared on her beautiful face, and relief flooded through him when he heard her words.

“I’d love that.”

“You would?”

“I would,” she confirmed.

“Oh, okay, great,” he said quickly, “ah, which day are you free then?”

“Tomorrow? I get off at 5:30, if you wanted to meet me here?”

And just like Classic Steve timing, his phone rang and he smiled apologetically at her as he pulled it out and saw Tony’s name on the screen. She nodded, letting him know she understood that he needed to answer it. He stepped away from the counter and exchanged a quick few quiet words with Tony, then hung up and headed back over to her. “Turns out I can’t stay, Tony needs my help with something but tomorrow at 5:30 is perfect,” he smiled.

“I figured if Tony was calling that you’d have to leave, so I put your coffee in a different cup.” She handed him a coffee in a to-go cup, “and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” he took the cup, “and see ya tomorrow,” he said happily as he turned around and exited the shop, heading back to the tower. He’d done it. He’d actually done it. And she had accepted. He was on cloud 9 and never wanted to come back down. He knew the goofy smile on his face would be hard to wipe off, even with Tony’s incoming antics. And to think that all of this came about because he’d forgotten his keys on her counter.

On that thought he turned his head to glance back through the window into her shop. And caught the tail end of her doing a silly little happy dance behind the counter and that only made him smile even more. She was clearly just as excited about this date as he was. And that realization alone made his heart skip a beat, and every worry in his head just vanish into thin air.

And in this exact moment Steven Grant Rogers was the furthest anyone could be from stressed out—the polar opposite of the word actually. For the first time, in a long time, he was truly and completely Carefree.

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

Using my If Only You Knew tag list, hopefully you all don’t mind!! ♥️♥️♥️

@hopefulmoonobject @harlequinash @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tessvillegas @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @imdiegohargreeves @zombiepotterfour @mu-mu-rs @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @badassbeckettswan @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger

[simplerthingslikewatchinglt]

Chapter Eleven

The patience in me had already left when I didn't recieve a call from Laurent all day yesterday and today. I was inpatient , I wanted to speak to him for some reason - maybe hear more about his dancing with Beyoncé, missy Elliot or about his travels to France and through out America -something I wish I could do if I had the money. Staying in my room all night yesterday and today was starting to become bothersome, I wanted an exscuse to go outside like before, which was about my phone but this time I had no exscuse. Sitting in the middle of my bed I needed to smoke, grabbing the pack of new ports that laid flat beside me I took one cig out of its carton parting my lips in the time being, I dangled the cig in between my parted lips. Atleast I can smoke , that was the first thing on my mind, atleast I can, thinking once more . On a winter day the clouds were grey with no sun out in sight just like before, maybe it'll snow this time ? My mother, that bitch, did not wanting me leaving this household for nothing . I wasn't a minor anymore but I sure wasn't a full grown adult in my mothers eyes , including my own. It was very annoying to be trapped in my room plus boring , smoking about half way through the cigarette I came to a decision to go on YouTube using my APPLE laptop and search up "Less Twins" purposely spelling it the way the Dj had pronounced it. It was then I came across the autocorrect which was actually spelled 'Les twins' - Boredem really had strucked me when I noticed my cig ashes were starting to be more then the cigarette itself, I usually smoked all of my cigarette but this time my eyes were glued on the screen as I watch the twins begin dancing. I wasn't bored of watching the twins, I was bored in general.

They were dope on screen, it was like watching two mechanical robots doing unbelievable movements but in person was a whole 'nother level - they were amazing in person it was then besides me, my phone began to vibrate , facing upwards I peeked at the screen. Boyfriend was calling and all I thought about was who the fuck did I save as boyfriend in my contacts - I slide my index finger across the screen to answer,  "hello?".

"Kiki my girl .."

Laurent? It sure sounded like him, right when I was beginning to gather my words to speak over a flustered babbling he spoke again " see I told you I was going to call"  once I finally had gathered my words I spoke in a questionable tone

" And why did you save yourself as boyfriend in my phone ?"

"Because I am" he was beginning to take this on going joke a little too far .

"Well I would like for us to see each other again Kiki , and this time no running in bathrooms okai? " inunision I chuckled at his last words .

"Well where would you want to meet ? " perfect exscuse to get out

"Anywhere , maybe your place ?" almost dropping my lit cigarette on my bed sheets in reaction  the way I choked on my own "what?"

"Your not coming to my place Laurent"

"Okai... so back to my hotel then ?" What harm could be done there right ?

"Umm I'll have to think about it , I mean what'll we do once I get there ?"

"Kiki.. we will talk . No sex or anything like that I'm a gentleman" Yeah sex was the last thing on my mind, I think , Laurent was handsome but we hardly knew each other.

***

Once I made it to the hotel he was staying in , I was met by him in the lobby. He sported a "calm" outfit this time around , wearing all black with no accessories or shades , pretty basic I would say . As for me I thought more carefully into what I was wearing this time for a reason I can't explain , I wore the pea coat I had on our first encounter underneath the pea coat was a navy blue turtle neck sweater shirt that was a tad tight from too many washes and drying, the shirt cupped my B cup breast while my tight ripped jeans hugged at my small curves . My hair just passing my shoulders, and my nails matched my sweater this time .

I approached Laurent he seemed more pleased to see me then his twin would be, maybe ?

"Come..We go now" He was smiling with his lips tucked inside of his mouth reaching out to me. I'd dismissed his hand reached, nothing to be rude about but I just didn't want people assuming unnecessary things.

"Ouch.." he whispered in a "false" hurt tone, mocking my actions but still seemed to laugh about it . We both walked side by side towards the elevator - once inside he pressed to floor eighteen just like last time . The difference from last time in the elevator was this time we weren't so close together.  He stood in front of me, eyes focus on the elevator numbers going up.

Once we arrived to the destined floor, we walked towards a different hotel room from before. It made sense that the twins wouldn't share the same room so I didn't question the fact. We got inside the room, it was decked out just like the lobby seemed to be bigger than Larry's room as well. There was no gold but sure enough there was a lot of decorative paintings and a huge king size bed that was placed in the middle of the room.

"Let's play a game Kiki" Laurent said as he jumped onto the bed, bouncing in the process .

"A game ?"

"Yeah a game"

So this is what he wanted  ? My mind drifted to sexual thoughts as it was just us alone , no Larry, nor Adelia in sight. There was an awkward silence between us , as my mind was in the gutter thinking of the dirtiest things that would happen if I participated in this game Laurent sat at the edgeof the bed. He'd stopped bouncing and as if in a serious manner, both arms on his knees , a smirk played on his lips as he sat hunched over .

"C'mon (come on) Kiki it will be fun~" Laurent said while stretching out his words , what harm could be done ?  I nodded my head in agreement, it was then his smirk turned into a smile growing  big as if compared to a happy child he shot  up on both feet moving off the bed and digging into his bookbag that laid flat on the bedside - I assumed it must've been his carryon . I watched him curiously, dirty thoughts filling my mind believing that this game would consider something sexual until i seen him whip out a deck of cards.  These cards reminded me of childhood, reminded me at how bad I was at the game to be honest. ..It was the dreadful game called UNO, the original version.

"You played before, no ?"  He  said to me , looking up to me while I stand , I moved my head in a up and down motion. He knew that meant 'yes'  - " come , take off your shoes. Come to the bed" he motioned his hand to the bed giving it a few pats before standing, I did as I was told taking off my shoes - "And coat... Kiki" he gestured. In honest truth, I was shy to take off my coat, I'm not too sure why... maybe it was because of my self consciousness of my own body or the clothes that I was wearing, I do not know , all I know was that I still did as I was told without hesitation.

I sat on the bed, where I sat across from Laurent whom sat with his legs folded. I decided to sit that way as well. There he began to discard seven cards between the both of us putting the rest of the deck on the side.

Laurent is innoncent at this point, just only wanted to play UNO with me and do nothing else made me feel relax, more comfortable . My body relaxed, getting more comfortable and turning my posture from straight to hunch, " so who goes first?" I questioned, he answered quickly " you" .

I looked at the seven cards that was held in my hands spread apart, all bad numbers, no 'draw 4' or 'reversal cards' just plain number '5,8,1,3,3,9,1' none were yellow, only blue, red and green. I pulled the first number on my left, the red one, number five, then it was Laurent's turn to draw, he immediately pulled out a 'draw 4 card' . There was a silence at first before Laurent began to giggle, an "ah" left his mouth while our eyes met, he knew I was going to lose. I drew four cards from the deck, numbers '4,3,7,1' another bad hand. I pulled the first number that matched the same color, number seven and sighed, Im gonna lose .

“Let's spice it up.." said Laurent, spice it up? I quickly responded, "spice it up" , he nodded his head up and down, a signed 'yes'.

"Spice it up how ?" I asked .

"If you lose .... you kiss me, if I lose I kiss you ."  He smirked at me which caused me to give out a small blush . A kiss? But where though? I thought to myself, I was nervous somewhat - about a kiss, or maybe about the fact we hardly knew eahother . I wasn't sure of my own thoughts .

"Where at though ?" I questioned,

"I no understand..." he responded, ofcourse he wouldn't understand as a kiss to him could mean automatically on the lips .

"Meaning, a kiss on the forehead or-"

"Lips ofcourse" he quickly cut me off , speaking in a tone that was easy to read as if saying duh' to me. In response I rolled my eyes. With  his cards still in his hands not once tilting them downwards, our eyes stayed on each other , Laurent must've read how I was feeling about this new "spice it up" thing because he, in response tucked his smile into his mouth before speaking once more . " okai (okay) ... lets make it easy . If you lose , you kiss me ... anywhere. If I lose, I kiss you... anywhere. Better ?"  The rules were simple, if one of us lost we would have to kiss the other person anywhere we'd like. I didn't know what to feel nor think about in this  situation, other than to simply agree to it . " yeah ... I think so " I responded, unsure on what to feel.

" I can't wait to lose" Laurent said, positioning himself in a more 'serious' matter , I didn't want to ask what would happen if one of us were to win because now the game was about a lose, lose situation. It did not matter on who won, it mattered on who lost and where the kiss would be planted . I need to lose .

Authors notes :

I made this chapter prettty lengthy, almost two thousand words which is a lot to me lol. I hope you guys like this one - I have not played UNO in ages . Also keep In mind the boys are still young so I wanted to play with the childish side of them like how they use to be when they were in their early 20's and would  bring their PlayStation and stuff like that with them on travels

[the-canary]

The Meaning of French Toast - B.B

Summary: It meant a lot of things, including what you felt for each other. (Modern AU! Reader/Bucky Barnes).

Masterlist

A/N: This came out of a smaller drabble from @just-add-butter ‘s request. It took a lot longer than I thought it would, but I hope you enjoy it!

Feedback is always welcomed. 

“And if we’re both single by 30, I’ll ask you out on a date. Hell, I’ll even marry ya.”

Is it stupid to cling to a drunk’s words from your college years? Yeah, you’re pretty sure it is, but you couldn’t help it when it came to him -- that bastard, James Buchanan Barnes. You were a little too sober and he was  little too drunk, at least you think, when he said those words back at the college graduation party and because of your teeny-tiny crush you clung to them. You waited patiently, though your own failed romances and his own, and now here you were -- two days after your 30th birthday, a couple of months after his own, in your favorite brunch place on a bright Saturday morning.  

It was what you guys always did in order to take a break and catch up. You had been doing it as long as you could remember, however there were also exceptions to the rule, though James always made sure to tell you ahead of time, not the morning of.

Bucky: Had a late night. Could we meet up later instead?

You type an “okay” and pretend that you have forgotten about the whole thing, the whole stupid notion that has been swirling in your head over the past 6 years because it’s only seems to be you carrying this makeshift battle wound. You’re sort of glad you didn’t go all out today on your outfit like you were planning to, it seems to ease the blow. So, when your usual waitress looks at the empty seat next to you and your watery smile, she can’t help but frown a little and you know what she wants to say, but you bite your lip and simply order.

“French toast to go, please.”  

 Freshman.

You first meet a young and nervous James Buchanan Barnes during that stupid freshman orientation because you were stuck in the same group with him and some other girls. Even then, James knew he could steal the crowd with a smile and an easy joke, maybe it had something to do with those hypnotic blue eyes or charming Brooklyn accent that filtered through a crooked smile. You hate the whole day because the girls won’t stop giggling whenever he talks -- it also doesn’t help that you have little sleep due to your flight and even now, you’re starting to feel a little homesick, even if you are at your dream school.

It doesn't help that you get lost along the way after orientation because your parents had thought it would be nicer to rent you a hotel and you had never been able to read a map.

“Hey, are you lost?” a familiar voice causes you to look up to see blue eyes and a crooked smile. You almost want to say no, but your stomach growls instead. He laughs and you want to be buried alive from all the embarrassment you are suddenly feeling.

“If you want, I could should a good diner and help find your place,” he remarks with his hands up, showing that he means no harm at your sudden glare,”Only if ya want.”

“Ok...I guess,” you mumble in defeat as he grins.

“The name’s Bucky Barnes! You were in my orientation group right,” he starts asking as you guys cross the busy New York street, “What are ya studying?”     

Oh, if your younger self knew what 5 years would change, she would surely hate you.

 One week. Two weeks.

Bucky hasn’t contacted you in that amount of time, but you sort of understand. You can see it in the social media you share -- the pretty redhead he seems to be smiling with and while it hurts the center of your chest. You take a deep breathe and choose to ignore it. You’ve had your work cut for you as deadlines starting coming up along with more work and even a business convention. Hell, your family on the West Coast even wanted to see you, so another birthday passed you by and while you tried to convince yourself that it would all get back to normal soon, yet somehow it feels different -- like something important has passed you by.

Maybe, that's why you were making  french toast from Youtube videos at 2 in the morning. You just couldn’t sleep, thank goodness that Peggy was willing to lend an ear --though you didn’t give her all the details-- from her current trip in London as she had always been an early riser.

“I don’t know how long I am planning on staying,” you pause between looking at the video and pan at hand,”But, maybe it will be a good break, ya know?”

Peggy hums at the end of your blabbering, “Well, I think you deserve a break and you have the hours for it. Just make sure, you know that you’ll that this is all just temporary. Life changes to quickly, even if you’re trying to run away from it.”

“That obvious, huh?” you question, while transferring the finish toast from the pan onto the plate. Various syrups and jams are on top of the kitchen countertop, alongside some cooled coffee. Peggy laughs, as you sit alone in the complete stillness of your apartment.

“Since sophomore year,” she declares with a laugh that you can’t help but join in, even if a bit bitterly. And in that moment, the french toast in all its sugary goodness tastes like utter defeat.    

 Sophomore.

In the year and half that you had known Bucky Barnes, you realized that you were sort of wrong about the fella. Yes, he could charm the panties out of almost any girl, you had seen it happen multiple times, but he was also a lot of other things as well. You saw him work to help his sisters and mom, saw him study until early morning after getting out of his work, you saw him breakdown because he was frustrated with the material of his math classes. However, when he triumphed, when something went his way -- the boy was pure gold with that smile of his.    

“All on me promise,” you declare, as the two of take a seat in the familiar red booth from a year ago. It wasn’t often, due to the money available as a college student, that you guys came here but Bucky had passed his last final, the one that he nearly spent two days without sleep  for, and was officially part of the Engineering program. It was just gonna get tougher from here on out, but you wanted to celebrate with him for a bit.

“You really didn’t have to,” Bucky smiles at the waitress who gives you the menu. You shake your head, already knowing what you want.

“We need to celebrate your accomplishment,” you empathize since Steve and Sam had already taken him out drinking two nights ago, “Besides, who knows when we’ll time for this again.”

“What do ya mean?” he asks almost hesitantly, as you order the french toast and he gets the grand slam breakfast. Blue eyes watching you with purpose, as you simply shrug.

“Well, I’m studying abroad next semester and you’ll be building shit,” you let out a nervous chuckle, not sure how Bucky will take the news that you’re traveling abroad. He was the only one you hadn’t told, though you aren’t sure why.

“So, it’s a little busier,” it’s his turn to shrug, “You’re always gonna be just down the hall and we can always call each other. Nobody’s moving away, doll.”

“You should have been an English major, Buck,” you laugh at his sentiment, only for him to smile as the waitress comes and brings your drinks.

The rest of the time is spent eating, sharing stories and plans -- yours on what you plan on doing in Lisbon and his over his latest conquest. Time seems slower than usual and at the sight of him spitting and laughing orange juice out of his mouth over your comment on sexual skittles, you try to ignore that your heart skips a beat.   

“So, your cousin finally left?” Steve asks as he takes another sip of his beer. It was on of those rare times that the two childhood friends manage to catch-up in between work and Peggy coming home, and that was totally ignoring Bucky’s major problem of the past couple of weeks.

“Yeah, said she wanted to see Toronto,” Bucky laughs. Natasha, his favorite Russian cousin, and her sort-of American boyfriend had come last minute to enjoy the short break that they had from work, which had coincided with a certain birthday, “Those two are cute together, though.”     

“And have you talked to her yet?” Steve questions, as Bucky turns to look away. The blond had been there all those years ago when Bucky declared what he would do on your 30th birthday. Steve had dickish but friendly tendency to remind him that each year he was closer to finally confessing what he really felt, on the year of it finally happening he had finally left Bucky to do what he had planned. It didn’t turn out so well, and Steve had give him hell for it.

“I’ve been busy,” Bucky gives as a weak excuse, as Steve decides to throw it all in once and for all. Peggy might get mad at him later, but he was tired of Bucky --with all his charm and know-how-- to be so indecisive when it came to one of their closest friends. I mean, how couldn’t he see it while everyone else did?

“You know she’s leaving, right?” Steve questions hesitantly, as blue eyes widen. Bucky’s mouth hanging open like a fish mid-drink, unsure of what to say next.

“ W-What -- How do you know?”

“She told Peggy that she was heading to the West Coast, back home,” Steve explains, as Bucky just sits there taking all this new information in, “Doesn’t know when she’ll be back.”

Bucky sits on this for a long time, as Steve gives him a regretful smile. He gets up, leaving his beer halfway done, before telling Steve he has to go, nearly running out the door -- a thousand of mistakes rearing back in his head.

She can’t leave. I have to tell. Should have told years ago, you fucking idiot.

Junior.

It’s a couple of weeks after the couch incident and as much as you want to ask Bucky if he’s all right and how is it going with his secret crush, but midterms come around and you get stuck in the library with a lengthy research paper. While, Bucky had gone to a robotics competition, and for some reason you missed him terribly. You briefly wonder if this is how he might have felt when you were gone the first half of the year, though you doubted it -- Bucky always had a catch at hand.

It isn’t until you’re in a drunken stupor with Peggy, watching the couples dance from the upper level of the bar that it hits you like a freight train.

“Pegs,” you hiccup terribly, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. She sighs, you had always been a sentimental drunk, “I think I love Bucky.”

“That took you long enough,” she states as she drags the two of you away from the flashing lights, probably to call a cab back to your apartment building, “Think about it and tell if you really feel that way in the morning.”

“Okay, mom,” you murmur sleepily on her shoulder, as she shakes her head.

And with a sober mind, the next time you see Peggy, you just confirm that aching feeling in your heart. 

   It takes him a whole day to put everything he wants to say to you together, to gain the courage to go up to your front door and knock on it. However, what Bucky wasn’t expecting was you with a watery smile while folding up some clothes and a rolling bag in your living room, though it still seems all your furniture is in tact -- at least for now.

“Bucky,” you question softly as he turns to look at you. Your eyes are wide and questioning as he pulls your body into his. You grow stiff for a moment and Bucky starts babbling before he loses all his well-crafted confidence.

“ I love you ,” he exclaims, as you let out a barely audible what but he keeps going, “I’ve been such a fool for so long, but if you’re leaving -- I--I just needed to let you know. I know I left you hanging on your birthday, but I was scared...so scared you would have forgotten. I don’t think my heart would’ve taken it.”

He stops talking and you’re still in the middle of your doorway, but he doesn't seem like he’ll let you go anytime soon. Thus, you decide that you need some answers in this horrible mess.

“Forget what, James?” you wrap your arms around his, as he places his forehead next to your cheek knowing what the use of his first name --that you want the complete truth-- means between the both of you.

“Okay, I think we need to back up and talk about this,” you explain pushing him away, but making sure that he comes inside so that you can have that long talk. It seems to be needed between the two of you.

 Senior.

Graduation party .

You’re both drinking a little too much, while sitting the balcony as the party continues inside. The both of you are lamenting a lot of things at the end of the road, as the two of you smile and laugh at ending this chapter of your lives -- you staying in New York and Bucky moving to Florida for awhile.

“I’m gonna miss ya, Bucky,” is all you manage to say in a whine breaking the silence, as blue eyes never seem to stop looking at your face.    

“I’ll be back. It’s just a summer program,” he tries to calm you down, while rubbing your back.

“But, it won’t be the same,” you cry out,“We’ll get jobs, barely see each other, and one day have a significant other -- hell, maybe even kids and then well ask: What happened to that chick I knew in college.”

“That might not happen,” he explains, as you lean into his body, humming softly so close to believing him, but really not, “ And if we’re both single by 30, I’ll ask you out on a date. Hell, I’ll even marry ya.”

“Ya promise?”

“Yeah.”

 It takes all night to explain just exactly what is going on between the two of you. The mistake of who Natasha really is and why Bucky had ignored you for three weeks. You explain where you are going to for the next couple of weeks, simply see some family and attend a conference for the company that you work with. There is still one unanswered question between the two of you, though all that is left unsaid for sleep and in the morning for food. You’re smiling and he is too, and doesn’t seem to want to let go of your hand at all as you take a seat on the other side of the booth, only for him to scoot closer to you than usual.

It’s a familiar type of clatter, but your head is somewhere else as you grab Bucky’s hand, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. Your heart speeding up in your chest, as you stare at anything but him.

“I’ve got one last question,” you whisper softly, moving your eyes to stare at the table top, Bucky tells the waitress if she could wait a bit longer.

“Did you mean...when you said…,” your voice stops as Bucky moves your chin with his free hand so that you’re starting at him completely.

“Yup,” he says with a wide grin without missing a beat, “Have for a long time now, doll.”

“Then, you owe me a birthday kiss, big boy,” you giggle out in excitement and relief as his blue eyes sparkle with something else completely. The table makes it awkward, but be manages to have enough room to move you into his body and give you a peak on the lips, but as he moves away you grab his cheeks and drag him back into a longer, more desperate version that has the both of you smiling.

“Finally!” a female voice declares, dragging you and Bucky away from each other with nervous chuckles as your usual waitress just shakes her head, “Took you guys long enough.”

She smiles, as you order your usual and for once, the taste of the french toast had never been sweeter.