j1tter

[j1tter]

sofia is so deeply unserious like. 'suicide mission! awesome!! :)' and 'you can't touch me when i'm on base <3' and 'stuff going down in the teachers lounge!' and 'championship wrestling' as she tackles psylocke like she's sooooo .

[j1tter]

happy fathers day to remy & remy ONLY <3

[j1tter]

⚫⚫

[j1tter]

she   opens   her   mouth   and   shuts   it   quick   when   the   first   thought   to   hit   her   is   ‘you   have   a   daddy’?   everyone   has   one.   but   the   correction   is   noted,   tucked   into   her   brain   behind   trained   respect.   there's   a   tentative   step   further   around   the   doorframe,   more   than   half   revealed   and   fully   so   by   the   time   he   finishes   talking.   the   thing   is,   her   heart   isn't   the   most   reliable   —   she   doesn't   really   understand   it   right   now.   she   knows   it   beats   hard   and   fast.   she   knows   that   in   tandem   with   the   rest   of   her   she   hopes   she'll   stumble   across   becca   dancing   again   and   be   able   to   help.   and   she's   definitely   not   good   at   homemade,   unless   she   thinks   becca   might   like   a   chicken   scratch   card.   it   gives   her   pause,   blown   black   eyes   watching   him   like   he   might   have   more   to   add.   something   that just clicks   for   her   to   go   with.

but   when   he   doesn't   continue,   sofia   frowns.   the   first   words   finally   out   of   her   mouth   have   dropped   all   pretenses   that   any   of   this   is   for   rogue   at   all,   slipped   away   to   racking   brain   filled   with   someone   else,   ❝   …   i   d-don't   think   i   can   afford   a   horse.   ❞   friend   for   ember,   right?   that'd   be   cool.   too   bad.    but it is a   genuine idea.   just the only one   she   can   think   of   to   begin   with. remy   is   a   veritable   sounding   board   now   as   another   hits   her,   ❝   orr   a   dance   studio.   annnd   the   only   homemade   thing   i've   everrr   made   was   a   diorama   for   science.   ❞   it   fell   apart   not   long   after   the   presentation   —   she's   just   glad   everybody   had   cleared   out   by   then.   

there's   a   sigh.   sofia   knows   becca   would   like   anything,   probably.   she   believes   remy.   she   trusts   him.   so   when   she   steps   closer   to   him,   it   has   it's   foundations   there.   and   she   guesses   what   she's   hung   up   on   is   this:   she   hasn't   seen   becca   so   happy   as   that   night   in   the   barn.   she's   not   sure   she   can   live   up.   but   she   wants   to.   ❝   i   cannn   be   anything   she   wants   for   one   minuute,   i   just   need   to   knoww   what.   ❞   and   becca   likes   remy.   they   all   do.   so   maybe…   ❝   could   you   asssk   her?   please?   ❞ 

He's beating the devil out of an old quilt, using the balcony balustrade to help shake out the dust, dirt, and other debris. It might not be a large-scale, throwdown fight with the world on the line, but it's enough to dislodge some of the stickier feelings in his chest since this whole damn thing started.

The Eye glows, ever present, tucked under his shirt next to his heart.

But he doesn't have time to think about all that what with his girl going off and getting herself mauled by something that nearly tore Logan apart and the whole demon army and the secrets that exist in the soil of Haven House while juggling a household of traumatized adolescents with enough stubborn streaks to make a mule jealous. Whew. When Remy's hens come home to roost, they roost hard.

Speak of the devil--One of said couillons peeks her li'l head out like one of them churchmice--and almost as quiet. It takes all he has in him to not bodily cringe as she calls him Mister LeBeau. ❛ Remy, petite. Mister LeBeau's my daddy-- ❜ As if Jean-Luc would allow himself to be called that himself, the master thief thinks, fondly. He drops the quilt over the railing and smoothes it out before turning towards the munchkin. Gifts. For his girl? Rogue really ain't the gift type, and if T'Sofia is thinking about doing something nice for his woman, then handmade is the way to go.

But he knows this ain't about Rogue. As much as his universe revolves around her.

He'd have to have his eyes plucked out, ears stuffed with cotton, and struck over the head with an 18-wheeler to miss the little looks between T'Sofia and Little Miss Becca with the Two Surnames. He supposes his initial advice would work in either case, and he espouses his wisdom, leaning against the balustrade like some great love guru.

❛ Y'cain't go wrong wit' somet'ing from de heart, Petite. ❜ He's about to touch his own when he's reminded of his extra special jewelry and clutches the railing for wont of something to do with his hands. ❛ Somet'ing homemade if y'can swing it. If not, t'ink 'bout all y'know 'bout her. Her likes, her dislikes--what makes her light up like de Fourth of July--t'ings like that an' buy de closest t'ing. At de end of de day, it's de t'ought that counts, hein? Don't stress y'self out. She'll like whatever y'pick, I reckon. ❜

[j1tter]

and   there   she   is   lighting   up,   straightening   posture   like   she's   got   the   whole   class   at   her   back   watching,   waiting   for   her   to   be   right   —   but   there's   none   of   the   anxiety.   that's   lost   to   yellow-lighted   kitchen,   washed   far   away   with   running   water.   ❝    i   wannt   to!   ❞   there's   a   curious   lean,   more   pendulum   than   girl   as   she   repeats   the   motion   to   the   opposite   direction   in   a   vie   to   take   in   the   entire   situation.   the   thing   is,   sofia's   mastered   doing   her   own   hair   only   through   repeated   action   enough   to   finally   offset   the   shaking   of   her   hands.   but   miss   rogue's   hair   is   so   different,   she   thinks   it   might   take   more?   she   can   be   more.   the   catch,   though,   catches   girl   always   on   the   move,   has   her   brow   furrowing   deeply,   ❝   but   how   longg   does   it   take   you   usually?   i   wouldn't   want   you   to   be   l-late.   ❞ 

because   she   likes   miss   rogue.   she   likes   mister   gambit.   they   don't   rush   her.   but   she   doesn't   want   to   hold   them   up   either;   long   ingrained   to   make   as   little   of   a   splash   as   possible.   hope   it's   enough   to   fly   under   the   radar.   she's   getting   more   comfortable   being   seen   but   valentin   has   excused   so   many   things   he   does   with   the   concept   of   old   habits.   ❝   when   you   go,   i   meean.   on   your   date.   to   …   ❞   she   doesn't   know   what   there   is   to   do   around   here.   she's   seen   the   school.   she   saw   the   grocery   store   once   on   the   way   there.   there's   a   mall.   none   of   those   fit   into   her   image   of   them.   ❝   um.   sooomewhere ... ?   ❞   she   just   can't   really   imagine   them   in   matching   crawdad   boots   either.

the gloves were as much out of habit as for convenience this time. the soapy water couldn't burn her but it felt right to wear them, rinsing off the last of dinner's mess. sofia was in eyeshot, but rogue's head only turned to call on her when she realized the girl might've been waiting for it, hand raised and all. ❝ yeah, sof? ❞ she wasn't sure what she was expecting. maybe a correction or something about school or something else that'd only remind her again that these kids were just kids and had she been too hard on them again? was she wading through her blind spots? —- but jitter's actual request was too sweet for rogue's own heart. turned out to remind her of her age anyway, but perhaps in the sense that not everything had to be so... heavy. a soft smile spread to her cheeks.

❝ do ya want to? ❞ a little amused, but not displeased with the mundanity. the makeup comment went dismissed, unrecognized as the faux-pas sofia might have worried it to be. she'd just been... so caught up lately. ❝ i think that'd be great, sugah. y'might be able to help me finally get those strands in the back. ❞ she ruffled the mass of curls at the base of her head, those few locks that always managed to slip past her efforts or just refused to cooperate like they had a mind of their own.

[j1tter]

ok locking in here she comes ( to the tune of that 'i want to see my little boy' vine )

[j1tter]

idec she should've done Worse <3

[j1tter]

was considering writing here too this morning bc i am full of gusto but instead i will put that energy towards once again telling folks to write the outliers

[j1tter]

what if i posted a little plotting call 👉👈 a little mains call perhaps. a little let me worm sofia into your muses brain call ,

[j1tter]

if there were a defacto leader for the outliers it's gotta be like. ransom or jitter — on account of calico and deathdream being. simply the way they are ( becca not having been convinced she was a mutant at all to begin with & hotoru being just a funky little guy ) but i do think they all just listen to one another. they're a 'all in or none in' sort of group at least until the southern gothic demons started whispering in hotoru's ears. so maybe leader isn't apt, but spokesperson? absolutely.

but it's jitter who's first out of the woods asking the x-men for help, and it's jitter who speaks up boarding the bus to try to ease their ways into school, and it's her with the 'okay everyone, play it quiet. no powers' spiel beforehand too. i think that for all her stuttering and all her getting her shit beat in by her peers she really does like people. she likes socializing. and amongst people who actually value her and are understanding of her mutation she's just solid company despite. physically not being so solid.

[j1tter]

what if i posted a little plotting call 👉👈 a little mains call perhaps. a little let me worm sofia into your muses brain call ,

[j1tter]

i'm telling you that if you put a switch in jitters hands she would go crazy on puyo puyo tetris like hyperfocused crazy it is 3am and all throughout the haven house they just hear the sounds of puyos popping .

[j1tter]

trade offer: you write outliers (who are a gift in and of themselves) & i get to be so annoying about it in your general direction .

[j1tter]

if i go looking for discussions and see jitter boiled down to 'adhd girl' or 'the power of adderall' one more time 👊💥

[j1tter]

maybe   she   gets   a   little   too   ahead   of   herself   sometimes.   but   it's   not   for   overconfidence,   or   some   foolhardy   bravery   —   it's   enthusiasm   which   has   brought   her   to   him.   striving   to   impress   who   has   her   heart   racing   faster   than   it   ordinarily   does,   ❝   heyyy,   mr.   lebeau,   ❞   her   approach   is   simply   head   poked   around   the   corner   of   a   doorframe;   a   balance   between   respecting   his   privacy   and   following   muscle   which   gives   her   no   other   choice,   ❝   what   do   girlsss   like?   ❞   which   sounds   strange   out   her   mouth,   considering,   but   the   thing   is   that   becca   is   nothing   like   the   other   people   she   knows.   ❝   i   have   leftover   ca-cash   from   the   mall   and   i   thought   maybe   —   ❞   maybe   he'd   be   more   willing   to   answer   if   it   were   for   mrs.   lebeau?   ❝   i   could   get   rogue   a   gifft.   to   make   up   for   worrying   her.   ❞

@roidesvoleurs ,   starters.

[j1tter]

sometimes a family unit is rogue who i can't say anything generalizing abt bc i love her and she's had enough of that, a cajun with a shirt allergy, and a kid with such a big heart that beats so hard she vibrates intensely 24/7 <3

[j1tter]

linking this vine in my pinned as part of my inspirations for jitter.