#but she needs to be FASHIONABLE sometimes :⁠-⁠)

[c4tluver02]

new friends

wc: 3.4k

summary: After finding a cat on your walk, Steve happens to be one of the many doors you knock on trying to find the owner. He's even kind enough to let you in.

cw: slight Nancy hate (barely any), mentions of wounds/cuts, nothing rlly!

a/n: who wants to send requests to a girl that has severe writers block? anyone?

Taking walks always helps you feel better. It was something about the way the sun did more for you than any medication could. 

It was a perfect temperature out, warm from the sun but a nice cool breeze. And since you've been walking for so long you are in a neighborhood you've never seen. It has vines and flowers that cling to the bright white fences. If the greenery didn't tell you the type of neighborhood you were in, the houses definitely did. Each house was way bigger than your own and some even had nice cars parked out front of it. 

This was just one of the perks of walking, seeing places you wouldn't see normally, even if it's just some rich neighborhood. Daydreams of someday possibly owning a house like these or decorating your own home with vines and flowers. It was something that easily calmed you down, none of the stresses from your present life taking up your mind when you were walking. Sometimes you even listened to music but when the sun is out the birds chirp. 

And thankfully today was a day you didn't listen to music, because if you did you wouldn't have heard the meowing of a cat. 

It made your head turn so quickly and when you spotted a small cat you immediately bent down to its level. Letting out a hand slowly for it to come to and sniff. Once it got closer you could see a pink collar, a small metal heart was attached to it. 

When it started sniffing your hand you moved closer to look at the collar, there was no address or number on it, only adorning the name ‘Pepper’. The name fits pretty well as you notice the black cat with small brown feet. 

After bending down for a few minutes petting Pepper your knees start to hurt. The collar seems to be for more fashion purpose than safety which makes you think she belongs to someone in the neighborhood, so safe and secure a cat wouldn't even dream of getting out. 

But unfortunately Pepper did, so now your walk is interrupted by the task of going door to door in hopes of finding the owner. 

Pepper is only concerned with pets and the way she rubs her head against your knee gives you enough confidence to pick her up. A purr is quick to come out as your hand goes back to scratching her chin. 

You wish Pepper would have found you on a day that the sun didn't make you look shiny or one you had a better outfit on. Not really planning on seeing anyone, let alone talking to people. But after a quick pep talk on how you don't live here and will never see them again you begin your search. 

Pepper isn't a cat that misses treats and your arms are starting to weaken the more you hold her. When you knock on the front door of a house right in front of you, you set her down. You wish you could keep her yourself, she sits so perfectly next to you. Maybe being rich means you also get lucky with extremely well behaved pets. 

When the door opens you are met with an older woman who has diamond earrings paired with a pearl necklace. 

“I don't want to buy anything.” She says as she closes the door in your face. 

If this is her cat, Pepper wasn't quick to walk in when the door was open. And her rude response means she doesn't deserve a cat, so you walk to the next house. 

By the fourth house you were getting tired of carrying her. Maybe this is the world telling you, you need a new cat. Maybe after the fifth house you could take her to the vet to see if she's microchipped. 

You have a horrible wish that no one here knows this cat and she can be yours. It’s now been about an hour with her and already she’s become your shadow. Walking with you, following you wherever you go. 

The fifth house you walk to has two doors and a nice red car parked in the driveway. You press the doorbell before bending down to pet the cat who’s meowing loudly at your side. 

“Okay Pepper, this is the last house we are gonna try. You must be so hungry huh?” Her meow translated to a ‘yes’ in your mind. 

Before you get a chance to get up the door is opened. It makes you jump to your feet quickly. A boy holding an ice pack to his face is in front of you. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Hi, um, yes. I found this cat on a walk and I've gone to multiple houses but she doesn't belong to any of them. I was wondering if you knew where she lived or maybe if she was yours.” Pepper isn't his, you know that by the fact that he didn't pick her up once he saw her, there was no relief in his eyes that a girl had found a cat. But still you continue to ramble on. 

“Not mine, and I don't think she's from this street. I couldn't tell you much more about the block over though.” He leans his arm against the door frame which makes his bicep prominent. The other hand holds the ice pack. 

 “Oh, okay.” You’re beginning to feel defeated. There might be someone out there missing her. 

“You gonna keep her?” Steve’s head is really starting to hurt him. The bright sun and standing up for a long time is not a good mix. But the cat seems sweet and despite the shit he just went through with Jonathan, he does have a heart, one that wants the cat in a safe place. 

“I mean I want to. She’s been my little shadow for the past hour. I don't know, do you think that’s bad?” You aren't sure why you're asking him what he thinks but really there's no one else for you to ask. 

He lets out a groan as he pulls the ice pack down from his face. He doesn't miss the little ‘holy shit’ you mutter in surprise. The blood is no doubt all dried up and dark now, Steve only got home a hour or so ago, not yet cleaning the wound. 

“If there's no address or number on the collar that's the owners fault, it’s just a cat s’not like you’re stealing a million dollars.” He should shut the door, go lay down and think of a way to apologize to Nancy but he’s weirdly invested into this.  

“Are you okay?” You pick at your nail as you say it. Like you know it's none of your business but something inside of you couldn't help but ask. 

“My girlfriend got a new boyfriend.” He states plainly. A joke that really isn't a joke. 

“Oh, well, you might want to clean it.” You say pointing to your own face. “Infections are awful, and can ruin nice faces.” 

This makes the boy smile. Still with all the blood and open gashes he looks really pretty. 

“You think I have a nice face?” 

“I really need to find Pepper's owner. Are you sure she doesn't live around here?” He’s really the only house so far to give you the time of day, so you're taking all you can get. 

“Is that her name? Pepper?” You nod wanting him to give you the green light that she is in fact not from around here and you can take her home. 

“People around here don't have kids, let alone pets.” Steve only knows this because if there were kids around here he would have tried to befriend them, only left to be utterly alone instead. 

“I think I might keep her, i'd rather her get a good home then leave her out here to go back to where she came from.” 

“Well no one around here has enough heart to love a cat, my guess is she is from a different area.” He gives you a light shrug also looking down at her. 

“Are you saying you don't have enough heart to own a cat?” He does live ‘around here’ as he said. 

All the boy does is let out a laugh at your question. Pepper is starting to pant beside you. The heat must be getting to her, you wonder if he could get her a little bowl of water or maybe that's too much for someone who just got the shit beat out of him. 

“Is she thirsty?” He asks, pointing to Pepper. Maybe he can read your thoughts. 

An idea pops into your head and comes out just as quick. Too quick for you to think it over. 

“Would it be possible if she could get some water? I can even help bandage you up if you need it.” Your house isn't very close on foot and the walk will be even longer with a cat. She needs water, you're positive she would ask for it herself if she could. 

His eyes widen, well really one eye– the other is slightly swollen. You can tell he wasn't expecting you to ask that. Knocking on doors to help a cat has really changed things around. 

He doesnt want some stranger touching up on him that doesn't know what they are doing. But why would you offer if you didn't know? The sun must be getting to you too, as you lift your hair up Steve could see the way the nape of your neck was slightly damp. 

And he may only have one real working eye right now but he could still see how pretty you are. Soft pink lips pressed together into a kind smile as you're halfway bent over trying to pet the cat but also showing him that he has your full attention. 

It’s a risk to have a stranger come into a house but at this point Steve feels like you wouldn't even hurt a fly. You are kind enough to find a house for some street cat. It really doesn't hurt to have a pretty girl help bandage a few cuts right? 

“Alright, yeah, fair trade.” He opens the door wider to let you in, Pepper follows with no fight. 

“She just really needs water and my house isn't exactly close.” You explain, not wanting to come off creepy or weird. This newfound cat of yours is already making you risk your life going into some guy's house just to make sure she's okay. 

“I get it, still thanks for, um, offering to help.” He brings the ice pack up to his face, the time he had the door open already almost melted the bag but still it was better than nothing. 

You say a small ‘no problem’ as he gets a bowl filled with water for Pepper. He also fills a cup of water for you, you take it only because you saw him pour it. 

“Pep, c'mere girl.” His voice comes out loud and it makes you jump. 

But for some reason she’s no longer near you. The sound of fabric ripping is heard and when you turn your head you see her clawing at his couch. 

“Pepper! No!” Steve hasn't seen someone run after a cat so fast. She’s in your arms in a millisecond. “You can't scratch at other people's furniture.” You scold. This cat mom thing seems to be in your blood.

“I think you should keep her.” He says nodding like he can confirm now after seeing you lecture her that you two are a perfect match. 

“I'm so sorry, she didn't damage it I promise.” 

You bring her back to the kitchen and it makes your heart break in two at how quickly she tries to drink the water. 

“If I lost my cat I would only hope someone kind and pretty would find her and give a nice home.” 

“I went to five different houses and no one was able to tell me if they knew about her, maybe I should do more though.” His complement didn't go missed by you, your flushed cheeks are proof. 

“Trust me when I say that no one will be helpful. Everyone stays in their house and I bet if you asked them if I lived here they would say no.” 

“Are your parents home?” He yelled loud for Pepper and no one was quick to come out and ask about it. 

“Nope, gone for the weekend. It’s why I'm able to stay at home looking like this.” He’s referring to his face. And honestly he should go to the hospital but this isn't your face that's all bruised and cut. 

 “Do you have any med kits? It'll have the supplies we need.” You ask, hopping off the bar stool chair. 

“I should, it might be in my bathroom.” He starts walking towards that direction and you’re not sure if you should follow or stay where you are. He doesn't tell you to stop once you both walk up the stairs. 

“Your house is really nice.” It’s missing all the family photos but the amount of chairs that are tucked into the dining table makes up for the lack thereof. 

“It’s only nice because there's never anyone here to mess it up.” 

When he opens his bedroom door you are met with a plaid wallpaper. Only a few posters filling in the walls and for a boy to be living alone it's pretty clean. 

“Got it!” He yells from the bathroom even though you are close enough to hear him. 

You walk into his bathroom and see a big red box open with alcohol wipes and bandages. He takes a seat on the toilet lid and you wash your hands. 

The closer you get to his face you can see all the cuts. There's one on his lip, bridge of his nose, and on his temple– basically from his eyebrow. He has nice strong brows and long lashes, even with the gash on his nose you can see how handsome he is. 

“This might sting, I'm sorry.” The smell from the alcohol pad immediately fills your senses. 

His legs open further so you can come closer to his face. Your hand gently holds his chin so he can look up. Now he’s getting a chance to truly take a look at you himself. 

Your cheeks are still pink, must be from the heat, he thinks. A piece of hair falls into your face from how you bend your neck to look down at him. It takes everything in Steve not to put it behind your ear, it’s stopping him from taking you all in. 

You’re only wiping away the blood that's built up along the wounds, but once you lightly start to clean the cuts his eyes shut tightly. A hiss comes out of him and his hands tightly squeeze his knees. 

With the pounding headache, and the intense sting he feels like his head is being crushed all over again. Who knew Byers would have this in him? 

“So how did this happen?” The silence is killing you and his eyes feel like they burn through each layer of your skin. 

“I already told you, my girlfriend-” 

“I know, got a boyfriend but did this boyfriend get a punch back from you or?” The fact that he still calls her his girlfriend brings a shutter through you. You keep reminding yourself once you leave you won't see this cute boy ever again. 

“Yeah, he did. It was just a stupid fight.” Steve doesn't want to tell you what he wrote on the movie theater sign, and even worse that not only did his girlfriend slap him but Jonathan threw harder punches.  

“Are you gonna break up with her? I mean, I don't think girlfriends should have two boyfriends, right?” His cuts are all clean, now you’re taking out bandages to patch him up with. 

“I mean, I might. I don't know. It’s complicated.” 

Half his face is all bandaged now and it brings a slight frown to your face. 

“Well you're all fixed up now.” You say with a sigh. The need to leave is getting stronger, Pepper has had enough time with her water and you finished your side of the deal. 

“Thanks, I swear I would have given Pepper water alone but, I wanted to continue talking to you.” 

His comment makes your frown turn into a smile. There's something about him that you think could heal you, similarly to the way the sun does on your walks.  

“I should get going, I don't want to walk home in the dark.” Your 3pm walk went on for an hour which turned to 4pm and it took you an hour to look around for Peppers owners and now it's already 6pm. Summer isn't fully in swing yet, keeping the sun in the sky for just a few hours longer. 

He gets up from his seat on the toilet lid as he follows you out of his room. Pepper is waiting at the bottom of the stairs, feeling the cold wood beneath her. 

“I could drive you home, it’s not safe to walk out there alone.” He offers. 

“I really couldn't ask you to do that, you've already helped us enough-” 

“I insist really, what kind of guy lets a pretty girl walk home alone at night?” He really lays it on thick huh?

But still that big gleaming smile of yours is brought back instantly at his compliment. Both of you stand at the bottom of the staircase as he waits for your answer. 

“I mean if it’s really not a problem, that would be really helpful.” The idea of carrying a fluffy cat in this heat all the way home seems like your version of hell. Despite how easy going she’s been you doubt she’d sit still the whole walk home. 

“It’s no problem at all. Let me go grab my keys okay?” When walks into the kitchen area he can hear your little murmurs of ‘Pepper we don't have to walk!’

She’s already in your arms by the time he gets back to you. Steve doesn't know how he can just go on with his life without knowing more about you. How cursed can someone be to get beat up and then have a girl be taken away from him forever, all in one day. 

“If you ever wanted to come back, not to fix me up or for water, you can.” 

“Yeah? You don't mind people knocking on your door to get stuff from you?” It comes out playfully and Steve breaks into a huge grin. 

“I mean if that person is you then I don't mind one bit.” 

You nod at him and he opens the door, Pepper is too big in your hands for you to do anything else. The red car in the driveway makes a loud sound as he unlocks it. Again opening that door for you to get in. Pepper sits perfectly perched in your lap as Steve goes to the other side of the car, getting in himself. 

The car ride to your place is filled with conversation. You tell him he has good music taste and Steve positively lights up. Practically glows at any of your compliments. Despite the walk to your house being long, the drive is quite short. He almost wishes you lived further away so he could talk to you more. 

But when he does make it to your place, you grab onto Peppers paw and wave at him. 

“Thank you-” You leave room for him to tell you his name.

“Steve.” 

“Thank you Steve, you've been extremely sweet to us.” You lean your head against the cat and Steve thinks he could melt right there. His name sounded so nice coming from your lips. 

“I meant what I said, come by anytime okay?” You nod your head feverishly in response. 

“And if it’s any consolation, I think you deserve way more than someone who cheats. You’re too good for her.” 

Steve doesn't really know how to respond. You think he’s good but really he deserved what he got. Still he is too late to say something back, the car door makes a loud shut as you shut it closed with your hip. 

When you make it to your door Steve waves at you with a nice smile. You finally put the cat down to unlock the door and respond to him the same. A wave and smile that will forever be ingrained into Steve's brain. What he sees when he closes his eyes for the night, and of course the only thought he has on his drive home.

[tiramiiswu]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Invincible x Tharja!Reader

✦ masterlist || next ✦ imagine: mark with a dark mage reader inspired by tharja from fire emblem awakening, aka mark and the freak who follows him everywhere they possibly can and casts curses on people who inconvenience them ✦ pairings: mark grayson x tharja!reader ✦ warnings: slight yandere behavior, stalking, reader is a little freak sometimes ✦ a/n: the inevitable tharja!reader imagine i keep babbling about :3 i love my wife she's so silly 💞😊also sorry if this jumps around a lot i like, worked on this infrequently and mostly whenever a brain worm started wriggling i had to get it out of my system i dont really know when to stop

✦ you might be into him because he's attractive or maybe you're just fascinated by his strength or general trauma spiral, sometimes you just follow him like a little stalker because you find him so fascinating for some reason

✦ you like the way you are for sure, it's less so that you don't see anything wrong with your behavior (you're definitely aware enough to know what you're doing is odd) and more so like, this is kind of just how you are and you don’t really see a point in changing

✦ but if mark ever mentioned like her creepy stalker/dark mage behavior being weird or wishing you were like more normal you would both like, understand you needs to change your approach but also lack the social clues to do this in a way that isnt fucking insane

✦ like you don't really understand that he finds you weird, that your tendencies to stalk him and watch him when you think he isn't paying attention, you just think your approach is wrong and that you should try to be As Normal As Possible (in the most bizarre fashion)

✦ you're usually pretty gloomy and monotone so you try to sound and act generally cheerier and upbeat but also uh, you tend to say a lot of weird things

✦ like your phrasing is just kind of Off and Weirdly iterated, you sound old fashioned but in a like, medieval sense

✦ Like you start to greet him specifically with “how fare you” and “good morrow sir” and say “huzzah!” at the end of some of your sentences and none of it sounds right, like it’s just odd and archaic sounding and Extremely Unlike You

✦ At some point mark is even more weirded out by your attempts at being normal that he just, straight up asks you to go back to the way you were before he decided he can put up with your usual strange, gloomy self better than this friendlier side of you

✦ mark starts to notice when tharja!reader is stalking him, it’s never inherently malevolent or out to get him or his loved ones, you're just like, creepy in general

✦ he doesnt have to worry about you trying to hurt him despite your past as a goon of some bigger, more threatening villain

✦ you're reformed and relatively loyal to him and the guardians (at least up until the team splits, then it's pretty clear that you're only really following where he goes)

✦ you're mostly just a lurker

✦ you're fascinated with him in a way you can’t specifically explain, but you fully believe you were destined to meet and tends to speak to him like the two of you are star crossed lovers of some kind

✦ idk if you'd like, go as far as following him to his house that’s insane work even for you, but at places like the gda or the guardian's hq and even during some of his assignments at some point mark would just start to feel you staring at him from somewhere behind him or within the vicinity

✦ you really aren't being that slick with it tbh

✦ yes sometimes you're peering around corners and watching him without him knowing but sometimes someone can just, walk up to see what you're doing and it’s clear as day just watching mark do Literally Anything

✦ you always manage to appear when he’s in the middle of doing something, even if he’s with company

✦ whether it’s walking in to ask cecil a question during one of his training sessions or even just suddenly appearing during casual conversations he’s having with the guardians

✦ it becomes very evident to everyone that you're always going to be lurking somewhere nearby if mark is there

✦ at some point it might become like? comforting? (at least in a stockholm syndrome kind of way)

✦ you become more reliable in combat if you can manage to keep up with him somehow (you're mostly grounded and you don't have very great stamina tbh but you can manage on your own) you do well to watch his flank if you're not in immediate danger, glass cannon and all depending on your opponent’s resistance to magic

✦ but like idk tharja!reader’s head over heels in love with him and isnt opposed to lending an ear or a shoulder to cry on, you just aren’t exactly the first person you’d think to turn to for comfort

✦ i think he’s keeping you at an arm’s length because regardless you're fucking weird but like

✦ idk i want them to have their tharja/robin moment where after getting used to your antics and somewhat comfortable at the idea of you watching over him/taking care of him he feels you watching again and like

✦ reaches out and pulls around the corner you're hiding behind just like, “i mean, i guess an easier way for you to keep doing all this is to just keep you by my side forever or something”

✦ but for now instead of marrying you he'll just like, ask you out on a date

✦ and while you would accept this bc you were almost like? waiting for it, in very tharja fashion you would just be like, “hm, this is wrong, turn back around” and make him ask you again (you still said yes dw)

✦ you're not actually used to him like, looking at you directly

✦ he thinks it's kind of cute in a way that you get kind of shy when he's actually speaking to you face to face

✦ he notices you actually don’t like making eye contact with a lot of people in general, it’s rare to see you actually speak to someone while looking at them dead in the eyes you tend to look down or generally avert your gaze to focus on something else during conversations

✦ cecil probably couldve had you on a tighter leash if he started letting you monitor the graysons with him

✦ 10/10 if someone gave you the job you’d dedicate enough of your time away from studying dark magic and worshiping the fell god to stalk mark on a government paycheck

✦ that’s implying you even like cecil tbh

✦ you honestly couldnt care less what he actually wants to get out of it, you barely listen to him most of the time you're on parole anyway

✦ tbh you could develop a much better hex to keep tabs on mark and his family than whatever cecil’s system is, you just likes doing it yourself

✦ when mark isn’t there for you to shadow? you're holed up in some quiet dark room to practice your dark magic

✦ whether it be studying old texts of rituals and curses or just like, practicing a hex that can change the color of her curtains temporarily

✦ because you're not just practicing spells that are for combat, you're practicing minor hexes for simply just convenience’s sake, or

✦ like yeah you can cast a spell that has to inflict pain onto someone else to replenish your strength and stamina, sure you can sap the life force of another person to heal your wounds or trap someone in a pool of corrosive mire from a few yards away

✦ but what do you actually practice and study the most in you spare time?

✦ developing a new spell to relieve the aches and pains in you feet after you walk in heels, or a hex to help regulate your body temperature just enough to avoid shivering or feeling that prickling sensation from the room being just a bit too warm, sometimes it's just developing a quick charm to take your makeup off at the end of the night because you just couldn't be bothered to go through your whole routine that night

✦ you aren't always trying to cause harm

✦ well, okay except when you're trying to get out of having to see cecil because you Really Don’t Feel Like It and decide to put a curse on him so he gets sick or mildly injured so you can miss your meeting (this has caused him to add more time to whatever deal the two of you made in relation to not sending you to jail)

✦ like not enough to leave him severely harmed of course but like, leave him with a bad cold or maybe like a sprained ankle

✦ something that inconveniences him so he can reschedule and so you can just go back to your books or so you can watch mark in person

✦ this goes for quite a few of the guardians actually

✦ like i mentioned before you'd probably be a reformed villain, like not actually reformed like you had a change of heart and suddenly wanted to do good

✦ but because the villain you worked for was about to get apprehended or killed and you switched teams because you realized you were on the losing side and decided throwing your life away for some crazy mf who doesn't care about you wasn't worth it

✦ you're still not opposed to killing someone if you need to, mark didn’t approve of it though so you've been reeling in your more lethal spells (which was uh, most of them if you're being honest)

✦ it’s taken a bit but you're gradually starting to become more merciful and sparing your opponents from severe bodily harm in an attempt to gain mark’s approval

✦ you'd offer your help to anyone besides mark almost begrudgingly

✦ like you asked for this tbh

✦ you agreed to join the side of the good guys maybe even the gda with some deal with cecil or whatever sure, but you're not going out of your way to interact with your new "teammates"

✦ they always manage to find a way to butt into your business somehow, like you just cant escape them

✦ at some point it's like you're stuck being their therapist at times

✦ like there's something about you that makes people just kind of talk out loud about their problems around you or the universe just has the most impeccable comedic timing when it comes to you walking into a room when someone has a personal issue

✦ like you don't know how to make it any more clear how much you don't really care but like, for whatever reason you decide to offer your assistance (probably just to get them to stop talking)

✦ your methods would be fucking wild and unconventional as hell tho

✦ like oh, mark is still traumatized and conflicted over his feelings about his dad trying to conquer the earth? simple, you’ll just spend a couple of days working on like a whole ritual or concoct some elaborate spell or curse to place on him that will erase his memories of his dad entirely to get rid of the source of the problem like??

✦ it could definitely be a plausible solution (you had the courtesy of offering it to him and waiting for permission to use that spell and he definitely said no ofc) but who the fuck would think of that first???

✦ honestly you'd probably get along with robot decently well

✦ like who else would tharja!reader find kinship with than the fucking weirdo who literally stole his coworker's dna to seem more appealing to his crush? what a fucking freak (you definitely wondered if mark would like you more if you suddenly became ginger or something)

✦ tharja!reader likes to pretend that they're not interested in forming bonds and attachments with others except for mark, but he’s seen how you sit and observe people before offering a solution to their problems

✦ you don’t actively seek out friendship with anyone but he sees how much you try to just like, exist, to prove yourself as trustworthy to the other heroes who hold you at an arm’s length

✦ you tend to be othered due to your track record being a former villain, or because your personality isn’t the most approachable and how you're kind of off putting because your hobbies are strange and how your solutions to problems are extreme at times

✦ like he sees how you get defensive when you think they question your loyalty or judge your practices

✦ you have a tendency to get catty or make snide comments either at others or say something self deprecating about yourself to make a point

✦ you tend to shrug it off as just being honest or realistic, but it’s apparent that it’s starting to get under your skin how much you get treated like a time bomb

✦ he genuinely considers for a moment that you might’ve cursed him

✦ you didn’t btw however everyone definitely thinks you did based on the fact that mark is? actually looking for you now? like willingly?? what the fuck??

✦ like he just cannot stop thinking about you it’s genuinely driving him mad like at first it was because yeah you’re always near him or watching him ofc he’s going to think about you constantly you never leave him alone

✦ but now he’s like, up at night thinking of you sometimes, maybe hugging his pillow to his chest and kicking his feet a little

✦ at some point you aren’t even there and he passes by a shop that has like pretty notebooks or like a black cat or crow plushie in the window and he thinks about you or how you would probably like something like it and maybe he even buys it for himself

✦ if mark ever feels like tharja!reader is like, trustworthy or loyal enough to him (with some stipulations) he might introduce you to his family

✦ you would oddly be mostly disinterested in his family but like, hey, a win’s a win you gets to go to his house and lurk in his room, life is good

✦ depending on when you're invited over mark doesn’t have to worry much about you reporting back to cecil about oliver because you're like

✦ actively avoiding the kid

✦ you look at him like he’s a little creature

✦ like not specifically because he’s an alien or because his skin is purple, but because he’s a child

✦ you don't want any of his kiddy germs on you

✦ mark thinks it’s funny how much you stiffen up when oliver walks over to you

✦ like the way you shuffle further away from him when sitting on the couch and the little sounds of panic/defeat you make when inevitably little toddler oliver corners you and starts like patting your leg or trying to crawl or climb over you

✦ you look so miffed by oliver being curious it's so silly

✦ sometimes you make a minor illusion of like a butterfly or some small glowing image to lure him away so you can escape, or just so he won't hover around you when you're trying to converse with mark or debbie (the graysons finding your efforts to entertain oliver quite silly and endearing in an odd way)

✦ mark pretends not to see you working quietly on making an amulet that can help disguise oliver/change his appearance with a transmog to help debbie save money on whatever foundation or face paint she uses to hide his alien skin

✦ he thinks it’s cute that when oliver’s still pretty young you tend to talk to him like he’s an adult, seeing you holding your amulet up to him and with a rather serious frown explaining to the boy the importance of keeping the pendant unharmed and intact in order for the enchantment to work

✦ the sigh you let out when he inevitably ends up teething on the pendant before giving him the ever so slightly affectionate tug on his cheek is something mark thinks about quite often after that

✦ you don't particularly like being touched by people, but with mark? you're like a cat, you slink around and start to cling to his side or creep up behind him and just sort of like, press into his back and hold onto his waist or shoulders

✦ neither of you have really noticed yet but the two of you both sort of take turns like, watching the other sleep when you're together

✦ whether it be looming over him when he's napping or staring at his face when the two of you fall asleep side by side, you find the peaceful, helpless look on his face when he's vulnerable just oh so mesmerizing

✦ on the other hand whenever you actually managed to fall asleep first beside or on top of him (or sometimes when he finds you slumped over your books, a hex dancing along your fingers to your pen to scrawl across your notes while snoozing in your chair) mark can’t help but find the relaxed expression on your face so… enchanting

✦ it’s corny mark’s so fucking corny but genuinely it’s like you put a spell on him

✦ which tbh is highly probable, like sometimes you put a hex on him during combat to spike his adrenaline for a few seconds or block a pain receptor or two every now and then (maybe even crank up his libido or something idk whatever this little freak wants)

✦ but this time you definitely didn’t do that

✦ last minute addendum mostly unrelated to that last part but this now implies the existence of noire whose father is mark

✦ and that her like bipolar mood swings/personality switches are being influenced by fucking viltrumite genetic strength,,,,,, girl is gonna get a crit and shout “blood and thunder!” and rip a man in half omg

✦ i think they’ve created a monster and by they i ofc mean me this might get a pin put in it i will be scheming about father candidate mark now

[idontplaytrack]

Not to be greedy or amything but... could you maybe write Regina George x Reader // regina post bus accident where she has chronic pain from it, but reader has chronic pain from fibromyalgia. Reader never told anyone about it but one day it flared up badly and Regina is the only one that notices qns she becomes protective and starts to take care of them? You can make it a series if you want, have her slowly falling in love with reader! —🐇

If Walls Could Talk

Regina George x gn! reader

Warnings: coarse language, chronic pain/flare up descriptions

- w.c: 1.1k

You were rudely awakened by the sound of your alarm clock at six a.m. sharp. You slapped the screen to turn it off, but you still hadn’t gotten out of bed. Your head kills, your limbs ached and felt so heavy, you could barely move them without feeling like you were going to sob. You dozed off, only to be woken up by your second alarm fifteen minutes later. Finally, you dragged yourself out of bed and to the bathroom to freshen up. You could barely open your eyes, even by the time you were out on your porch with your backpack on your shoulder waiting for Regina to come and pick you up.

You leaned against the pillar, hand in your pocket holding your phone in the meantime. You snapped out of your trance when you heard a car honk in front of you. Blinking profusely then squinting to focus, you realised it was Regina. “Hey.” Regina smiled when she saw you but her face very quickly fell when you got closer and into the front passenger side with her. “Are you alright?”

“Just tired.” You mumbled. Your eyes screwed shut for a moment when you felt that throbbing spread around your head.

She made a sound, you knew she was unconvinced but still didn’t say anything. It was too early to squabble, or upset you, rather. “Did you have breakfast?”

You nodded, massaging your temple, “I did, Stomach’s a bit upset so I had some oatmeal and a banana.” 

“Good.” She hummed.

The rest of the drive was quite quiet, apart from the music playing through the speakers. The first half of the day was okay, you just had to sit through them. After lunch came Literature class with Mrs. Daly— she always picked on you to answer questions, read a passage, asked you what you thought about the reading that was done. This was the last thing you needed today, but you were not about to miss classes over body aches. Everybody gets those, why should you skip school over that?

“y/n, Wuthering Heights.”

Well, damn.

“Did you do the reading?”

“Yes I did, Mrs Daly.” You answered flatly. 

“Good, based on your reading, what year was Nelly born?”

You gulped, wait. You knew this. You did the math. Because you’ve already read this book before. Why couldn’t you remember? 

“Um.”

“y/n, did you do the work or not?”

“I read it, I did.” You nearly huffed. 

Come on, get this over with.

“1758.”

“Thank you.”

You quickly sat back down, and once she was at the front of the class again, you looked at the whiteboard but weren’t actually focused on anything.

Before you had registered it, you were moving onto the next class, and the next class. And the next one. With barely any time to stop in between, that meant that Regina couldn’t ask you anything and you were kind of glad about that.

“Hey, y/n. Do you want some coffee?”

“Um…”

“You just seem so sleepy, I figured it’d perk you up.” Gretchen explained with a smile. She had some in her flask— she always had a latte or sometimes matcha with her in school. 

“Gretch, thank you but my stomach’s being a little weird today so I shouldn’t have caffeine.” You declined, “Just two more classes.”

“Oh, alright then.” Gretchen seemed a tad worried.

“I’m okay, just stressed with midterms coming up.” 

“Get some sleep tonight. Early.” She said back.

“I’ll try, Gretch.” You chuckled while spotting Regina approaching from a distance.

“Finally catching you for a minute.” Regina smirked in her usual fashion, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Hey.” You smiled.

“You want to go to the mall after school to eat and maybe shop a little?” 

“Not today, I’m really sleepy.” You told her.

“That’s okay, I’ll spend the night with you.”

“Okay.” You replied, and before you could say anything more, the bell went off. “I’ll meet you back here after your last class, okay?” Regina kissed you again, on the cheek this time, “Love you.”

“Love you too.” 

“Come on, Gretch. Let’s get to home ec.” Regina glanced at Gretchen, tilting her head in the opposite direction.

“Yep. See you later, y/n.” Gretchen gave you a hug before she left with Regina. And you, were headed to gym class. But ultimately decided to sit in the nurse’s office until it was time to go home because you absolutely could not risk it. 

After the final bell of the day, you went over to your locker where Regina said she’d meet you and go home together.

————

“Will you talk to me if something is going on?”

“Regina— you know. You know how my pain gets sometimes. I don’t want to have to rely on somebody else to get through the day.” You bit back a sigh, “You already have your back hurting all the time, Reg.”

“You have your days, I have mine. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be there for you and take care of you. Sometimes, not all the time. I know that. Just when you need the help. Let me be there for you, I know it sucks. It’s hard, and it’s so isolating.” 

“It’s hard for me to— you— I  don’t like asking for help because it makes me seem like a burden.” You revealed in tears. 

“I know, baby. I understand that, but we talked about that. Right? No matter what, it’s going to be okay if we go through it together. It’s going to take time, but I will be by your side no matter how hard it gets. You just let me know and I’ll be right with you.” 

She took your hand into her own and led you upstairs to your room. “Let’s get you into a fresh set of clothes then we can lay down, sound good?”

You nodded silently and stood next to her while she got you a loose comfy sweatshirt and a pair of shorts. You groggily changed into the clothes and crawled under the covers, Regina followed suit. “Come here.” She opened up her arms and you scooted closer to her. Regina kissed the top of your head, “Close your eyes. Get some sleep, I got you.” 

“Okay.” You answered quietly, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” She ran a hand through your hair, “Did you take any pain medicine today?”

“I did.” You nodded, snuggling closer to her, “The muscle relaxant.” 

“Naproxen? Okay. Do you want to take it again? It could help you get to sleep more comfortably.” 

“Yeah, that’ll be nice.” You muttered, face almost smushed against her shirt. 

“Alright, I’ll just be a minute. Going to get you some water and the pill.” She told you then carefully pulled away from you. Regina returned soon after, you took the pill and laid back down in her arms. “Okay, go to sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“You’re staying the night?”

“Mhm, I am. I’ll wake you up for dinner. For now, just rest.”

“Thanks, Reg.”

“Of course, baby.” 

🏷️ Tag list: @arandomeee @ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

oh! and also, which members in enhypen is which glee character? curious on your take😅

LOLLLL anon how did u know im such a gleek...this is so funny pls. idk if any of these make sense but i just did whatever character first popped up in my head for each member...

jungwon is soooo blaine anderson coded. i feel like blaine is one of the very few normal ppl on that show that isn't like....batshit crazy LOLL and just super lovable and shows great leadership and is SUPER TALENTED of course but also funny silly & goofy in his own way. he's always the moderator and calming other people down and is always there for others during the show–all of which our jungwonie definitely is for the rest of the group

heeseung is finn hudson. tall. athletic. a little (a lot) confused some (most) of the time. face of the group in a way. you know how there's that inside joke that heeseung went on i-land to find his missing members? it's kinda like how finn lowkey brought together the band of what the new directions were. if it wasn't for him, many of the other members wouldn't have joined. loser in a hot body that doesn't know what to do with it half of the time!

jay is rachel berry. HAHAHAH this is probably the funniest. they're both just super ambitious and like how enhypen is always entertained by jay, the new directions are always entertained by rachel (whether that be from her insane dramatic flairs or from her singing). plus they both can hit insanely high high notes . need i say more .

JAKE IS SO SAM EVANS I CAN"T STRESS ANYTHING MORE!!! like are you kidding me??? they're both the most golden retriever ppl to ever walk this earth. they're just so precious and pure and innocent and also will say dumb things every now and then but it charms everyone anyways. they both definitely throw up awkward thumbs-ups or peace signs in photos. just super sweet to everyone they come across, but yet manage to be super hot at the same time LOL

sunghoon is quinn fabray. now hear me out. you know how everyone thinks sunghoon looks 'cold' at first glance? but deep down he's literally just an extroverted introvert and is literally so super uber soft and chaotic??? that's quinn fabray. she comes out as cold and 'perfect' and just 'pretty' but DEEP DOWN . she has a good heart and is super soft and looks out/cares for others more than she makes it out to be. but they both still manage to look perfect & pretty while doing so of course hehe. also they're both just super insane like sunghoon being a national ice skater???? quinn going to yale???? yeah. insane.

sunoo is so tina cohen-chang. HERE ME OUT. fashion icons. can pull off the emo look (tina season 1) and the preppy look too (tina season 5). always positive, cheers others up, good friends with everyone but also has the funniest facial reactions and side eyes when they judge others LOLLLL

ni-ki is santana lopez. LOLLL OK THIS ONE MIGHT BE A STRETCH BUT you know how riki tries so hard to be nonchalant and cool kid vibes but we all deep down hes a huge softie and crackhead??? SO IS SANTANA !! santana keeps up the cool girl facade (and well, is straight up mean sometimes but we ignore that) and is a baddie but deep down has a good heart and cares deeply for everyone and is very sentimental <3

[cupid-diary]

THIS ISN'T JUST A CRUSH | profiles I

SUMMARY she was the girl who once tripped over a chair leg and apologised to it. the kind of person you'd barely glance at twice in the hallway – funny? sure, but easy to miss. and then she disappeared. two years. no contact. now she's back! not to relive the past but to live loudly. she wasn't supposed to fall back into their orbit. they weren't supposed to start looking at her like that. but this isn't highschool anymore. and this isn't just a crush.

profiles – ride or die's | next`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

💌 y/n. 21. media & entertainment communications major. a walking contradiction: hot and hilarious but chaotic and unhinged, confident yet deeply delusional. the girl who used to blend into the background, a little too loud for her own good. always cracking jokes in awkward moments and never quite part of the 'popular' circle. two years in the states changed that. now she's back, prettier and sharper but still deeply chaotic, with a heart that remembers everything. she thrives in chaos, speaks in fluent rizz + meme and jokes through her feelings until they catch up with her at 2am. the group calls her unserious but she sees every detail, even when they think she doesn't.

💻 karina. 22. digital marketing major. she's that girl – effortlessly cool and terrifying in the best way. karina knows how to read a room, craft a perfect clapback and carry herself like a runway is always five steps away. but behind the curated perfection is someone deeply protective, deeply perceptive and secretly the most emotional in the group. y/n is her one soft spot. the one person she never judges. the one she lets see her fall apart on a tuesday night because the world feels too loud. if she ever tell you she's proud of you, you'll remember it forever.

📞 ningning. 20. communications major. the chaos engine. she lives loud, laughs louder and will absolutely risk her life to hype up your outfit in public. she's never scared to call someone out, always down to flirt with danger and thrives off emotional mess like it's morning coffee. to y/n, she's the fire that never burns her, ningning only lights her up. the one who reminds her that confidence is a choice and delusion is sometimes the first step to winning. she's not afraid to love loudly, live unapologetically and tell the truth even when it hurts. but she'll hold your hand while doing it.

🪡 yeonjun. 22. fashion & design major. older brother coded. always overdressed and overthinking. he met y/n before the glow up, loved her energy instantly and now guards her like a treasure he found first. he's loud, flashy and his twitter presence is borderline illegal. but behind all the sass and flirtation is someone deeply loyal, someone who'd absolutely fight a man for making her cry then ask if his punch looked cool. he's the big brother she never asked for, the cheerleader she always needed and maybe just a little too invested in who she ends up with.

🎥 soobin. 22. media & culture major. the soft chaos with silent lore in the group chat. he's tall, shy, always observing and drops the occasional line that emotionally wrecks everyone for three business days. the calm in the storm until he adds a raccoon meme to the convo and derails it completely. to y/n, he's comfort. the guy who doesn't need to speak loudly to say everything. their bond is quiet, weirdly spiritual and full of moments that nobody else notices. a shared look here, a silent giggle there. he's the kind of guy who'd write her a birthday poem and pretend it's a joke.

🎭 beomgyu. 21. performing arts major. fully committed to being the instigator in everyone's story – especially y/n's. he's the one who screenshots private tweets and sends them to the groupchat with "explain." he lives for mess, loves drama and has no boundaries when it comes to calling people out. but the thing is: he cares a lot. too much. and when y/n's heart gets tangled up in old feelings and new sparks, he's the first to say "do better or i'll ruin your life" – to whoever's holding it. she calls him annoying. he calls her worse. but there's no one she'd trust more to have her back, or burn someone's entire ego down if they wrong her.

TAGLIST open @zoe1love @haechology @xoseraphinaa @ddolleri @downtoeden @hawarun @genericxseas

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝-𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[amber-aura]

Let us Live since we must Die: Chapter 4: Happy Birthday?

Summary: In 1932, something happened in Mississippi. Something no one could explain. In 2001, a baby was born under a sky that remembered. In 2025, she’s about to find out why. Breana Rae has the power to tear through space, but what she really wants is to connect the pieces of her past. When a rare celestial event reawakens the ghosts of a buried tragedy, Breana is pulled into a mystery far older and far deeper than she ever imagined.

Pairing: Remmick x black!oc

A/N: This chapter was planned to be edited and released 3-5 days ago, but I fell sick so it's late :( But good news! The story officially begins!

Warnings: 18+ comments only. Minors, you can read but do not interact with any of my works. Angst, graphic mentions of blood and gore, eventual smut, slow burn, slurs, mentions of suicide, emetophobia, sexual assault, murder, etc. Will continue adding more as the story progresses for the sake of any new readers.

Word count: 5k

Typing. Typing. Still typing...

Breana had been glued to her laptop for nearly two hours straight, her fingers a blur across the keyboard as she dove deeper into a rabbit hole of research. The hum of the AC in her loft barely registered anymore, her focus razor-sharp as she scanned through articles, forums, archived records—anything that could shed light on 1930s Mississippi.

Her assistants were mildly baffled. Why the sudden obsession with the early 20th century South? Why Mississippi of all places? But they knew better than to pry. Breana had her moods and her muses. Sometimes it was ancient myths. Other times, avant-garde fashion history. This time, it was Jim Crow-era Mississippi. They didn’t ask questions. They just brought her coffee and kept her schedule clear.

Breana didn’t need to start from scratch. She already knew a decent amount thanks to her parents' love of documentaries and her own curiosity about history. But now? Now she needed clarity. Context. Details. She wasn’t just learning—she was piecing something together.

Even so, just reading about that time made her skin crawl.

“Nope,” she muttered to herself, eyes scanning a headline about the rise of white supremacy groups in the 1930s. “Couldn’t have been me.”

The very idea of living back then was a nightmare. No air conditioning. No decent healthcare. No advanced tech. No women’s rights. No rights for people of color—well, not real ones. It was technically illegal to just exist freely if you were the wrong shade of melanin or had the wrong chromosomes. And sure, America still had its systemic bullshit in the present day, but at least she could talk about it without being shot on sight.

“Fair wages? Nonexistent. Racist police? Oh, they been here. The Klan? Running wild like they were police.”

She shook her head and leaned back in her chair, letting out a deep, tired sigh. “And don’t even get me started on that god-awful Mississippi heat. No thank you.”

Her lips curled in slight amusement as her mind drifted to the everyday inconveniences of life back then. Making food from scratch—every single time. Relying on radios for news. Dresses with petticoats and stockings in the middle of summer, no deodorant worth a damn.

“Oh no, they got me fucked up,” she muttered, scrolling past a sepia-toned photo of women in heavy dresses and lace gloves. “I wouldn't wear a damn velvet corset in July. That’s not elegance. That’s a slow bake.”

Still…not everything about the era was a total bust. She had to admit—1930s fashion? S'alright. The silhouettes were graceful, the fabrics had texture, and those sweetheart necklines? Iconic. If she could snatch some of those designs and remix them for a stage outfit, she just might.

But it wasn’t the style that kept her glued to the screen. It was the people. The culture. The pain, the joy, the survival. She wanted to know what kind of world Mary, Elias, and the others had lived in before everything went to hell. What kind of music floated through their windows at night. What kind of dreams they whispered in the dark, even when the world tried to silence them.

She wasn’t just curious anymore. She felt tethered.

Something about it—about them —was pulling her deeper. And part of her didn’t mind being pulled.

Breana clicked over to her notepad document, eyes scanning the bullet points she’d messily typed out while going down this historical rabbit hole. She read them out loud, more to herself than anyone else.

“Alright…if I were to actually be in 1930s Mississippi—God help me—I’d have to know how to play the part. Let’s see…”

She adjusted in her seat, legs crossed, hair tied up in a scarf now to keep it out of her face. She’d pulled it up in frustration an hour ago, and now it kind of matched the vintage vibe she was reading about. Cute. Maybe unintentionally prophetic.

Always use formal titles when speaking to white people. Even if they’re being disrespectful, which they will be, say “yes ma’am” and “no sir.”

Do not look white men in the eye for too long.

Avoid walking alone at night, especially outside of your own neighborhood.

If someone accuses you of something, don’t argue. Just survive.

Breana blinked. “Jesus…”

That last line stung more than it should’ve. But it was true, wasn’t it? That was the law of survival for Black folk back then. Hell, even now sometimes.

She sighed again and kept reading.

Keep your speech “mild.” Don’t sound too educated around the wrong crowd. Don’t draw attention.

Smile when necessary. Stay polite. But never too friendly.

Segregation is the law. Don’t sit at the front of buses, don’t drink from the wrong fountain, don’t use the wrong entrance.

“Don’t breathe too loud. Don’t exist too much. Got it,” she muttered bitterly, highlighting that line just to remind herself it wasn’t hyperbole.

She scrolled further.

Jobs available to Black women: domestic work, sharecropping, laundry, seamstress, midwife if lucky.

Education limited—especially in the South.

Medical care? Almost nonexistent unless you know someone.

Her lips curled in frustration.

And yet, somehow…Mary, Elias, their community—those people had laughed, loved, danced, lived. All while under a system designed to suffocate them.

She didn’t know whether to feel proud or overwhelmed.

Then there were the notes she wrote specifically for herself:

Learn the lingo.

Clothing: Wear dresses. Loose, breathable. Light cotton or linen. Natural look. Wear your hair "short and kept" like the white women (eye roll)

Keep modern expressions to yourself unless you wanna get side-eyed. No slang from TikTok, dummy.

Learn how to cook something from scratch. You’ll need that to earn trust. Or survive. Or both.

Breana leaned back again, staring at the ceiling now. Her eyes were tired, but her spirit felt wired.

This wasn’t just research anymore.

She was prepping for something. Something she didn’t quite understand yet—but her gut said she’d need all of this. Soon.

And if this strange new path was going to demand she walk into someone else’s century? 

She’d be ready...not-

But Lord, it better not be during the peak of summer. She could handle trauma, magic, vampires—but she drew the line at sweating through a cotton petticoat.

“Let me go back with common sense and a heat-resistant body, God,” she muttered, stretching her arms with a dramatic sigh. “Please and thank you.”

Then, she saved the file and titled it simply:

“How to Survive the 1930s"

Just as Breana was about to close her laptop and maybe take a break before her brain melted from history overload, there was a knock on her open studio door.

“Hey, Bree?” one of her assistants, Rayna, peeked her head in, followed by Malik right behind her, holding a smoothie like he knew she hadn’t eaten all day.

“Your birthday’s tomorrow,” Rayna said, walking in like it was breaking news. “You need to decide what you wanna do. Party? Dinner? Photoshoot? Private island escape? Aliens-only rave?”

Breana blinked, still a little mentally stuck in 1932 Mississippi. “Uh…”

Malik handed her the smoothie. “At least drink this before you fry your brain.”

She took it. “Thanks.”

Rayna flopped onto the arm of the nearby couch. “So? What are we doin’? The people are gonna be watchin’. This is the first birthday since your EP release and you’ve got followers foaming at the mouth waiting to see you do something glamorous.”

Breana sipped the smoothie, eyes a little glazed. “Can we just…eat some good food and chill? That’s really all I want.”

Malik raised an eyebrow. “Like…chill-chill or your version of chill, which means binge watching Spongebob and somehow getting drunk on ice cream?"

Breana smirked without answering.

Rayna rolled her eyes playfully. “Alright. But for real, you do need to post tomorrow. Instagram, TikTok, all that. Fans are already making edits with your countdown posts.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Breana waved a lazy hand. “I’ll post somethin’. Y’all can take a picture or whatever.”

Rayna side-eyed her. “We are not just gonna take a picture . You’re a brand. Your whole aesthetic is like…soul-deep goddess trapped in a dreamscape.”

“Okay…” Breana replied dryly, sipping again. “Then let me dreamscape in peace tonight.”

Malik laughed. “We’ll let you rest. Just don’t ghost tomorrow. You gotta give the people something. Even if it’s just a selfie with your cat.”

“I don’t have a cat,” Breana mumbled.

“Well…you seem like you should have one. You give cat girl energy.”

Rayna and Malik left, still teasing as they went. Breana stayed seated, smoothie in hand, staring ahead at nothing in particular.

Her birthday was tomorrow.

And something was coming.

Something…

Breana stared down at her notes again, the pages covered in scribbled questions, bullet points—her own chaotic little web of connections.

Logically, there was only one conclusion to draw from all of it. The kind of conclusion that would’ve made her raise her eyebrows if someone else had said it out loud.

Time travel.

That’s what everything was pointing to.

She blinked slowly at the thought, as if waiting for her own brain to catch up to what she’d just admitted.

“I can’t seriously be entertaining this,” she muttered to herself.

But...wasn’t she?

She could already open rifts. That alone threw the rulebook out the window. That day when her emotions surged and the very fabric of reality tore open in front of her—that was the moment the impossible stopped being “impossible.” It was the moment she learned the world wasn’t just weird—it was malleable .

And now?

She had an alignment happening on her birthday—the same rare celestial alignment that last occurred on the day she was born. She’d just met two vampires from 1932 Mississippi , the exact same era her DNA test pointed to when tracking her ancestral roots. The timing was too perfect, too unnerving.

Like she kept saying, none of this was a coincidence. None of it.

The rational part of her brain begged her to calm down. Breathe. But the deeper part—her intuition, her soul—whispered something else.

“Prepare.”

Breana exhaled sharply and tossed her phone from one hand to the other, thinking.

“Let’s just say I do go back in time…” she whispered, eyes scanning her notes again.

Her thoughts drifted to Mary and Elias—two undead souls tethered to the past but walking quietly through the present. They knew that world, the one she was beginning to suspect she’d soon be entering.

Assuming they weren’t too busy—considering, you know, the whole being-vampires-and-can’t-go-outside-during-the-day thing—maybe she could shoot Mary and Elias a quick text.

Just for comfort to check up on them.

Breana sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at her phone like it might bite her back. Her fingers hovered over the group chat and hesitated.

Then, she just started typing.

Breana: good morningggg. hope y’all aren’t sleeping in too much 😅

Breana: i was thinking about our convo from last night. you free to talk again later?

She stared at it for a second, then hit send. She figured if they were still asleep— actually can they sleep? She doesn’t know. Whatever, they’d just get to it when they could.

To her surprise, the typing bubbles popped up immediately.

Mary Mary: Good mornin’ girl ☀️ we’re always up dw, what’s up?

Breana felt a little relieved at the warm response, then quickly followed up:

Breana: nothing deep just had some more questions and i dunno, y’all are chill to talk to. plus it’s my bday eve lol

Mary Mary: Ohhhh! 👀

Mary Mary: I was just tellin Stack you prob got folks lined up for tomorrow. You got plans yet?

Before Breana could reply, Stack beat her to it.

Stack: i told her you was gon’ be booked n busy

Stack: but if you ain’t, we’ll happily steal a few minutes after sunset 😎

Breana grinned a little at that. She replied:

Breana: yeah it might be a busy day but i don’t got plans set in stone yet.

Breana: might just do something chill

Breana: or disappear and hide from the world for 24 hrs, haven’t decided 💀

Mary’s reply came fast:

Mary Mary: Girl that’s valid tbh

Mary Mary: But if you feel like talkin tonight, we’ll be at the usual spot. Just text

Stack: bring snacks

Mary Mary: 🙄

Breana chuckled and was feeling a weird comfort bloom in her chest. These two were something else. Unusual as hell, literally, but familiar in a way she didn’t expect. 

But it was good to know someone was out there who could hold space with her in the meantime.

She stretched her arms over her head, rolled her neck, and whispered to herself:

“Okay. I’m not alone.”

Not yet, anyway.

Breana: btw been doing some research this morning

Breana: about your era...

A pause. She watched the three dots flicker under Mary’s name. Then:

Mary Mary: 👀 Oh really now, why tho?

Breana bit the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t say “just in case I get yeeted through a tear in space-time.” So instead:

Breana: idk just been thinking more about stuff you two said

Breana: trying to understand the time y’all came from

Breana: it’s wild to think about how different things were back then and how much hasn’t changed too

Stack chimed in, of course.

Stack: girl it was a whole other planet back then

Stack: no AC, no internet, no rights, and bread was a nickel 😭

Stack: mary used to churn her own butter lmao

Mary Mary: STOP LYING TO THIS GIRL I AIN’T NEVER CHURNED NO DAMN BUTTER

Breana laughed aloud, then replied:

Breana: 😭😭 y’all are ridiculous

Breana: but fr, it’s interesting. learning how folks survived, how they dressed, talked…

Breana: even the little stuff like what people cooked or how they dealt with the heat

There was a pause before Mary responded again, this time a bit more sincere:

Mary Mary: Well, if you ever got questions about how life really felt back then you know we got stories for days

Mary Mary: Not just the bad stuff either

Mary Mary: We laughed a lot, we danced, we loved hard…it wasn’t all pain

That hit Breana deep. She stared at the message for a while, then replied:

Breana: yeah. i’d love to hear more of those stories sometime

Breana: i’ll text y’all tonight after i get some stuff done

Stack: we’ll be up. undead and wide awake 😂

Mary Mary: Behave, Stack

Mary Mary: Talk soon, Bree 💙

Breana smiled down at her screen, then tossed the phone on her bed again and leaned back with a soft exhale.

What time was it now? 11:30—late morning bleeding into early afternoon. Still quiet enough for peace, but just loud enough for distractions. With nothing else urgent pulling at her attention, Breana flopped onto her bed and unlocked her phone.

Might as well check in.

She opened FaceTime, called a few close friends just to hear their voices, share some quick laughs, and pretend—if only for a minute—that everything was just normal. Then came the scroll. Instagram. TikTok.

Tik...

Tok...

Her thumb stopped on a video with her name in the caption. Birthday posts. A handful of them, actually—fan edits, countdowns, even an astrology TikTok theorizing about what each planet means for your life according to your zodiac for tomorrow’s planetary alignment.

She didn’t even blink. She’d liked so many spiritual and astrology videos that her fyp had flooded.

At first, the news unsettled her.

But not anymore.

No more anxiety, no more questioning. She'd decided: whatever life had planned, it was gonna do it anyway. Might as well face it with her chin up.

A couple of minutes later, her assistants popped in, practically buzzing with excitement.

“Okay, quick reminder,” one of them said, clipboard in hand. “Tommorows your birthday gathering. Just a small thing. Parents, friends, your fave stylists, and us.”

“And yes,” the other chimed in, “we’ll be posting. Everyone’s gonna wanna see what you’re up to tomorrow, so we’re spreading it across Insta and TikTok, don’t fight it.”

Breana just nodded, letting herself smile a little. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

They didn’t need to know what was looming in the back of her mind. They didn’t need to know she was halfway convinced this was her last normal birthday.

Let them have their fun. Let the posts go up.

If tomorrow really changed everything…then tonight? Tonight she’d have her cake. And she was damn sure gonna eat it too.

Today had officially become tomorrow.

Breana's birthday had arrived.

She sat quietly in a velvet-backed chair, legs crossed at the ankles, while her hairstylist gently tugged and twisted her hair into one of her favorite styles—an intricate criss-cross rubber band braid pattern at the crown, with the rest of her hair was loose and full. The stylist’s fingers moved with care and precision, like an artist touching up the final strokes of a masterpiece.

Breana held her phone up and captured a few shots in the mirror—angles, lighting, a little lip gloss pop—before uploading the final look to her Instagram story. She tagged her stylist with a glitter emoji and a heart. Grateful, always.

Once her hair was finished, her assistants ushered her back into her room, chatting excitedly about the day’s schedule and what would be posted when. Together, they helped her slip into her outfit for the party—a dress she had chosen weeks in advance but still gasped at when she saw herself in the mirror. 

It was a black and white, off-shoulder bow-tied stunner, perfectly hugging her form while still giving her the freedom to breathe, to move, to feel . She paired the dress with sheer transparent tights and tall, sharp black stilettos.

Then came the descent down the hall to the living room.

The second she stepped into view—

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!”

The room erupted with voices, flashes of phone cameras, and a collective energy so warm it made Breana pause for a moment, just to soak it in. For a second, the air felt slower.

She almost cried.

There they were—her parents. Her friends. Her inner circle. All gathered just for her. She hadn’t seen her parents in nearly two months, which made their presence that much more emotional.

“Mom! Dad! ” she beamed, practically running toward them, heels clicking across the hardwood floor with power and precision—because yes, Breana was that girl who could run in stilettos and not fall once.

“Hey, darlin’! Happy 25th birthday!” her dad said with a voice full of pride as he embraced her.

“Hey baby, we haven’t seen you in a minute! Ooooh you look beautiful ,” her mom chimed in, pulling her into a hug like she was still fourteen.

They laid their gifts on the table—among many others from friends and colleagues—wrapped in everything from sleek matte black paper to glittery, rainbow explosion chaos. It was a corner of love and celebration.

The party buzzed around her with the sweet comfort of soul food scents drifting through the air—collard greens, baked mac and cheese, fried chicken, candied yams, cornbread—the works. It had been catered by a high-end Black-owned spot Breana personally requested, and the flavor alone felt like coming home.

Then came the cakes.

Yes— cakes.

The first one? A classic vanilla layered masterpiece, made just for Breana by her parents.

At the top, in blue frosting and yellow letters, it read:

“What’s funnier than 24? 25. Happy birthday!”

Breana burst out laughing. “ Y’all are too much! ” she said through giggles. Spongebob was one of her favorite cartoons of all time, and this was peak humor. 

The second cake, much larger and meant for guests to share, was a red velvet cake adorned with edible flowers and gold flakes. 

Photos were taken nonstop—candid moments, selfies with her besties, and formal poses with her family. Her assistants worked behind the scenes, uploading clips, tagging everyone, managing posts across Instagram, TikTok, and Twitter.

Breana didn’t bother checking her phone. Not yet.

Right now, all she wanted to do was laugh, eat, hug everyone in the room, and hold onto this little oasis of love as tightly as she could.

The laughter in the living room echoed behind her like a sweet chorus, champagne glasses clinking, music humming low beneath the hum of conversation. Someone had just made a joke and everyone erupted, including her parents. It was a perfect moment.

Too perfect.

Breana’s smile faltered just slightly as something pulled at her gut. A tight, cold little thread that hadn’t snapped since the moment she opened her eyes this morning.

She blinked once, twice.

The alignment…

She didn’t say it out loud. She didn’t have to. That thought alone made her mouth go dry.

“Oh crap,” she said softly, just enough for her assistant to hear. “I forgot something—I left it in my room, just give me one sec.”

Before they could even respond or follow up, she turned with a casual wave and headed back down the hallway. Her heels clicked a bit faster this time, but not enough to raise concern. Her heart, however, was pounding.

Once in her bedroom, she shut the door gently—no slam, no theatrics. She was calm… enough.

Until she checked her phone.

The screen lit up with a burst of notifications.

Instagram DMs. Comments. Story tags. TikTok mentions. Duets of fans singing her songs. Edits of her best performance moments. Birthday tributes, fanart, memes—even one dramatic video of someone pretending to faint at the thought of meeting her.

“Happy Birthday, Breana!!! QUEEN ENERGY!!”

“She’s 25 and still not aging?? How??”

“Hope this is your best year yet!!”

Her finger hovered above a video of her laughing earlier at the cake. Her assistants had already edited and posted it. She smiled at her digital self.

Then a new banner appeared at the top of the screen:

Mary Mary & Stack 💙:

Happy birthday, Bree. Don’t get too drunk, see you tonight or tomorrow -Mary Marywhat she said. hope it’s a good one young blood. 🥂 -Stack

She smiled. But the warmth didn’t last.

Because that gut feeling returned—stronger now.

She quickly opened her search bar and typed without fully thinking:

“Celestial Alignment Time May 7th, 2025”

The top result loaded instantly:

“The peak alignment will occur at approximately 1:47 PM PST…”

Breana glanced at the time on her phone.

1:44 PM.

Her breath caught.

She stood there, frozen, as the realization punched through her chest like a bass drop.

“Three minutes… ” she whispered out loud.

Then panic set in.

“Okay—okay okay okay okay okay,” she mumbled, backing up a little, gripping the phone like it was an anchor and she was already being pulled out to sea. Her breathing quickened. She felt a burn behind her eyes. Her hands started to sweat.

Forget her earlier nonchalance. She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready.

Breana inhaled deeply—once, then twice—holding the breath in her chest like it might glue all her nerves back in place. She checked the time again. 1:46 PM.

One minute.

She set her phone down on the nightstand. No more looking. No more spiraling.

Just go back out there.

She shook her arms out, forced her best I’m-not-panicking smile, and opened the door.

The second she stepped back into the living room, the atmosphere swallowed her whole again. Jazz music played now, something her stylist picked, smooth and classy. Her parents were dancing together by the windows, her friends chatting by the champagne table. Someone had popped open another bottle.

“There you are!” one of her assistants called out. 

“Come on, come on, we’re about to cut the big cake!” another friend shouted, holding up her phone to record.

Breana nodded, moving toward the table, blending back into the birthday rhythm. She accepted hugs, opened a gift or two, and even let one of her friends convince her to take a sip of mimosa (non-alcoholic, thank God—her nerves didn’t need help).

“Alright, make a wish!” her dad announced with a proud grin, already holding up his phone.

The candles flickered, glowing warm and golden against the frosting.

One minute left…

Breana stared at the flames.

She didn’t make a wish.

She just closed her eyes and thought, Please…not yet.

Then she blew them out.

Cheers erupted. Everyone clapped, and someone from the back yelled, “TWENTY-FIIIIIIIVE!” like it was the age of legend.

The party pressed on.

The house had gone quiet.

The party guests were gone. Empty champagne glasses littered the kitchen counter. Wrapping paper lay crumpled in a pile beside the couch. Her parents had already gone to bed in the guest room. Her assistants had gone back to their hotel after helping her change and unwind.

Now it was just Breana. Alone in her room. Back in her pajamas, her makeup wiped clean, her hair in a bonnet.

She sat cross-legged on the edge of her bed, staring out the window.

The moon hung heavy and silver above the city skyline. The sky was too still. Like the world was holding its breath again.

Her phone sat quietly beside her.

Breana exhaled, a hand resting on her knee. She hadn’t expected to have time to see Mary and Elias tonight, but it looked like she just might. Her fingers hovered above the screen, ready to text—

And then she looked out the window.

There they were.

The planets. Aligned.

It was stunning in a haunting kind of way. A string of bright pearls suspended in a velvet-black sky. She’d seen the predictions, the mockups, the TikToks claiming this was it —the moment the world would shift. And now…here it was. Real. Tangible. No turning back.

She wasn’t about to check any news headlines about the “effects” either. If she didn’t have powers, she would’ve dismissed all the online panic: memory loss, time displacement, emotional distortion… Like, girl please...

But as she's known ever since she was eighteen, nothing was impossible anymore.

And she was grateful— relieved, even—that the day had gone by without incident.

Until—

BrrrrrNNGGG—!!

A shrill, splitting hum cracked through her skull.

“Ah—!” Breana’s hands flew to her head. Her eyes slammed shut, her chest seized up, and her heartbeat started hammering like a war drum. The air shifted. Thickened. Her whole body trembled as the sky outside took on a strange glow—celestial, yes, but tinged with something uncanny. Ominous.

Her ears rang.

No— screamed.

The sound wasn’t normal. It wasn’t human. It wasn’t here. It was coming from…somewhere else. Inside?

She stumbled back from the window, breath hitching. She needed her intuition to say something , anything. But her mind was static. A broken signal.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Her knees buckled.

She hit the floor.

Gasping.

Eyes wide and unseeing.

Her powers stirred. Not gently. Not the way they usually did. This was violent. Chaotic. She felt her chest thrum like an amplifier as a soft bluish-purple light began to glow from beneath her skin.

“No—no, no, no—” she whispered.

She glanced down, trembling.

Her whole body was glowing now, pulsing brighter and brighter like a living beacon. Her fingers twitched. She couldn’t move her hands from her head. Couldn’t open a rift even if she wanted to. Her powers were acting on their own, building toward something she didn’t understand.

She needed something to anchor her.

Her phone. Her memories.

She forced her eyes open and spotted it—just out of reach, where she’d left it near the window.

“C’mon,” she rasped. “Please…”

She crawled—every muscle heavy, like moving through water. The light around her body swelled, warping the shadows in the room, distorting the walls just slightly like heat haze.

Her fingers brushed the phone.

She snatched it with a shaky hand and shoved it into her pants pocket. Her other hand scraped against the floor, trying to find grip to push herself up. She glanced toward her desk, where her laptop and notebook sat—pages of the notes she had taken earlier.

Too far.

No time.

The glow surged again, and the room vibrated softly like a low hum of thunder before a storm.

Breana staggered to her feet.

Fucking hell, why—

Breana didn’t even get to finish the thought.

Her mind went blank.

Still glowing, still trembling, her body began to lift. Slowly. Unnaturally. Her feet left the ground like she was weightless, suspended in a cocoon of pulsing violet-blue light.

Above her, the ceiling shimmered. Then— crack.

A rift opened.

Not one of her own.

This one wasn’t drawn by her hands, wasn’t triggered by her focus. It opened like it had a will of its own. It pulsed—once, twice—like a heartbeat, warping the ceiling into a glowing spiral of nothingness.

Then, just as suddenly, it snapped shut.

And Breana crashed to the floor.

Hard.

The air left her lungs in a harsh gasp as she landed, light still pouring from her body in surges.

She groaned, barely able to process what had just happened. A rift opened…without her? That wasn’t supposed to happen. Her power always needed her focus, her will. This felt like something—or someone—else had pulled the thread instead.

Then came the knocking.

Knock knock knock.

“Breana?” her mom called out, her voice tinged with concern. “Sweetheart, are you okay in there?”

Another knock. Firmer. Sharper.

“Breana?”

Then her father’s voice joined, worried and commanding.

“BREANA?!”

But Breana couldn’t answer. Her mouth opened, but no words came. Just a pained, breathless sound.

“Ah…”

She clutched her chest, shaking, drenched in sweat as the light from her skin flickered erratically.

Their voices faded.

Not because they stopped talking.

But because she was slipping.

Her eyelids grew heavy. Her limbs went numb. The sounds of her parents shouting became distant—like she was underwater, sinking deeper and deeper.

And then…

Silence.

Total, perfect silence.

Breana’s eyes fluttered shut.

That moment was the curtain call of her time in this chapter.

<Chapter 3 Chapter 5>

[marigoldbaker]

man today fucking slapped in a lot of ways but my coworker did fully give me. So much nail polish. Like almost eighty bottles of nail polish. bc i mentioned i wanted to get into it and she used to paint nails professionally.

[smallsucreeveryday]

Sugar is truly the littlest fashionista.

(She sure is! Small girls need a big wardrobe after all!)

[scionshtola]

i think if cori had instagram she would accidentally become a fashion influencer

[britneyshakespeare]

i love hearing old ladies share about their vintage fashion doll collections. like doll collectors on social media skew very young bc duh it's social media but there's something extremely comforting about pre-internet era collectors sharing their knowledge and history.

[susansontag]

the fact I guessed correctly that my friend/ex-flatmate’s newest flatmate was a lesbian when I clocked her as such at my friend’s birthday get together lol. some women really do just move around in a gay way, she looked exactly like my friend the way she strode about… something about the confidence and effortlessness

[multishipper-baby]

Random Onnie gender thoughts because they came to mind.

[itspileofgoodthings]

have had a bit of my crash after flying too close to the sun this past week and you know what, it’s very annoying and also very good for me in a stabilizing way.

[orchideae]

ᴍᴜꜱᴇ ᴅᴇᴍᴇᴀɴᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀɴɴᴇʀɪꜱᴍꜱ ɢᴜɪᴅᴇ.

ᴇʏᴇꜱ. Avoids eye contact when nervous, maintains eye contact when agitated, avoids eye contact due to being neurodivergent, enjoys eye contact as a means to read and convey emotion, looks down when emotional, looks up when emotional, cries openly, wipes tears quickly, suppresses tears, wandering gaze when lost in thought, holds gaze while thinking, seeks out eye contact for reassurance, seeks out eye contact to gauge enthusiasm during conversations, eyes constantly move during conversation, expressive eyes, emotions only evident through eyes, uses eye contact to intimidate, looks up while thinking, looks down while thinking.

ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ. Clasps behind back, rest in lap, fidgets with clothes, twiddles thumbs, chews at nails, pushes back cuticles, draws patterns on table/counter surfaces, makes animated gestures while speaking, only gestures to emphasize, utilizes sign language, speaks only through sign, callouses, scars, smooth, wrinkled, worn, soft, delicate, bone-y, slender, thick, vein-y, touches others while speaking, reaches out while laughing, reaches out to comfort others, reaches out to seek comfort, places face in hands when exasperated , places palms over eyes to hide when overwhelmed, rests chin in hands, taps fingers when impatient, taps fingers when nervous, taps fingers while thinking, scratches scalp,  strokes chin, rubs back of head, toys with objects around them, runs fingers over surfaces while walking by.

ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ. Chews lip, chews at inside of cheek, licks lips, bites tongue, chews on straws,  resting frown, resting smile, neutral resting expression, resting pout, grinds teeth, flexes jaw, covers mouth when laughing, covers mouth when shocked, covers mouth when concerned, hands to lips while thinking, covers mouth when chewing, chews with mouth closed, chews with mouth open, smirks, grins, subtle smiles, wide smiles, sad smiles,  intimidating smiles, menacing grins, openly smiles, tries to suppress smiles, bares teeth when angry, lips quiver when emotional, stutters, speaks quickly, speaks slowly, good pronunciation, poor pronunciation, moderate pronunciation, purses lips, sucks in lips, holds mouth open when shocked or confused.

ʟᴇɢꜱ. Bounces leg when nervous, draws knees to chest when sitting, draws knees to chest as a means of comfort, sits on knees, sits with legs criss-crossed, sits with legs spread open in chairs, crosses legs when sitting in chairs, sits with one leg folded under the other, places feet on furniture, never places feet on furniture, sits on counters, sits on desks, sits on tables, sits on edge of seat, sits hunched over with forearms on knees, arches one knee up, sits on the arm of chairs/couches, feet on dashboard, swings legs back and forth when sitting somewhere elevated,  wiggles toes when nervous,  wiggles toes as a general tick, shuffles feet, kicks foot into ground, stomps feet, loud footsteps, quiet footsteps, silent footsteps.

ʜᴀɪʀ. Runs fingers through hair, tugs at hair, picks at scalp, chews on hair, twists locks of hair while thinking or nervous, smooths out locks of hair while thinking or nervous, prefers hair out of face, prefers long hair, prefers short hair, wears hair back, keeps hair down, smooths back hair, plays with other’s hair while talking, plays with own hair while talking, strokes hair to comfort others, likes having hair stroked for their own comfort, braids others’ hair while talking, braids own hair while talking, flips hair out of face, pushes hair out of face, leaves hair alone even when falling into face.

Tagged by: I stole it on the dash, but I forgot who, I thiiiiink it may have been @arlquin  Tagging: @delusionaid (Wriothesley) @immobiliter (Beidou first, and if you want to do it for Navia and/or Furina too, go ahead 💙) @feilyne @maquiscursed (Kazuha!) @infernaliscor @spiderwarden @avaere (Kaveh or Itto) @lunaetis (Hu Tao!) @sortilegii (Give me that Blade food!) @electrohunter @shrineofprophecy (Ningguang) @nivuruheim — gosh, who else, @narvvhal and whoever else wants to: steal it and tag me!

[strangesmallbard]

i think both shadowheart and lae’zel could be doll collectors in a modern au. ruthlessly competitive doll collectors of course. they’re sworn enemies on ebay. they dm threats indecipherable to anyone outside the doll community. they will Never admit to their hobby offline. they have the same mutual friends offline. do you understand what i’m saying

[mango-ti]

EVERYONE LOOK AT MY DOLL

Also let's appreciate the restyle the seller put her in because it's so so cute