#even if there are weirdo moments like the whole i will raise the children that you will have with jinshi

[the-lost-profile]

GX Lahan is adorable

Lakan patting Lahan on the head

Lahan appreciating Jinshi's numbers (while Jinshi is wearing the Imperial armor)

Also Jinshi being weirded out because Lahan is very similar to Maomao(physically and behaviourally) with the difference that Lahan is "attracted" (in a weird La Clan way) to him.

[konboyblues]

i think one of the most jarring takes i've seen of superboy 1994 is ppl thinking it's victim-blaming when calling out kon for his weirdo behavior in the early stages of his writing. it's like it goes over their heads that some of the hypersexuality and showmanship is a direct mirror to how knockout behaves in the story bc the thematic point here is the cycle of abuse and how easy it is to get caught up in it. like the whole knockout closer highlights how close kon was to murder-suiciding BECAUSE he was growing to become like her. if victim-blaming is all you take out of an arc exploring the raw and real consequences of being a victim of abuse without the support to HEAL from that abuse.... ya missed the point.

kon being overly sexual and prone to violence are symptoms of a broader problem - aka the fact that's he's exploited and doesn't even really UNDERSTAND how bad it is until it's too late. if knockout hadn't given up, they WOULD HAVE DROWNED. kon would have died with her bc it was better than becoming like her and letting her continue to traumatize ppl the way she was traumatized. it's not SUPPOSED to be swept under the rug. it's not supposed to be a moment of 'knockout is the devil and she hurt kon-chan.' it's a moment of 'here's what happens when a kid who thinks he's a grown ass man gets caught up in an abusive situation with an adult who is abusing him on purpose bc she never healed from her abuse and can only make peace by hurting others.' he doesn't get it until it's too late, and by then, knockout's destroyed a piece of his soul.

a lotta ppl chalk it up to 90's writing, but everything in that era post crisis was all about fucking around and finding out the hard way. and kon's story WAS rooted in the real life issue of society exploiting the hell out of kids and having them go through the worst trauma imaginable entirely for their entertainment. see: child stars after they grow up. see: how the world looked at r kelly and aaliyah

being uncomfortable with kon's writing 1993-1998 is fine, bc that shit IS DARK. horrifying even. but that does not mean calling out his very violent and hypersexualized behavior is suddenly victim-blaming. it's an observation of the fact that he was not normal and could not be or act normal because he had no social training and was not even RAISED to be normal. wild how some of y'all will read this mofo's origin story for timkonnie dreams, but not for its contextual prowess. kon was a TOOL. he was a representation of america's obsession with abusing children for ENTERTAINMENT. when ppl get hurt, they act out. kon acted out. he acted out so damn bad, supergirl had to roll up on him, and even she, a victim of lex luthor, struggled to get through to him. his early arcs are a cautionary tale, not a prop for ship angst.

[sea-owl]

Portia at seeing ABC with her pseudo children/niece: Death flags, death flags everywhere! I need to call in the reinforcements.

Cue the next ball where Simon, Michael, and Phillip help keep away their friends from the Bridgertons, much to the Bridgertons annoyance.

But also imagine just how unimpressed the spouses are with the Bridgertons in this. Kate has no interest in being a viscountess but thinks Anthony might make a decent match for Edwina as he was not on Simon's list of bachelors who would not suit Edwina. Besides, if push comes to shove, she and Simon have already agreed to just marry each other for convenience with Edwina's children being their heirs. Simon gets his wish of no children and Kate can continue to run her chai business. After all, someone needs to educate the British on how their tea is wrong.

Sophie swore to never rely on any man for financial independence and is content to work with Philip on making illustrations for his books on plants and helping balance the books for Kate's business. Plus she also helps model dresses for her friend Genevieve Delacroix and even does some lacework for her. She has a wonderful life as it is and while Benedict Bridgerton has a pretty face, she's heard much about it him and is less than impressed. This man is the very embodiment of wealthy male privilege and she has no intentions of being another notch in his bedpost.

Had Penelope not grown up with Simon, Michael, and Philip along she might have found Colin Bridgerton to be charming. Had Penelope not been raised in the company of a firm but loving mother, three wonderful protective and supportive sisters, she may have swooned when Colin Bridgerton came to sign her dance card. Had she not been friends with some of the strongest women she knows, she may have fallen in love with Colin Bridgerton the moment they met. Instead, Penelope danced her dances with him and walked away feeling just about as impressed with him as she had with every other man she'd danced with (aside from Philip that is). Oh he's more handsome than most to be sure and she can see how he may have charmed many a young debutante with his smile and laugh but the whole time they were dancing, he talked extensively about his travels as if she was someone sheltered flower who had never been outside of London. It's shame that he seems to be like most other wealthy men she's met: charming and handsome with no substance. She was honestly relieved when her mother pulled her away after the second dance. Penelope adores her mother looks up to her which means she's good at reading her her and she knows her mother has always been wary of the Bridgertons. Therefor, she has no intentions of furthering her acquaintance with Mr. Colin Bridgerton.

As Portia watches with relief as her precious girls dance with the young men she'd taken under her wing as children, she throws a smirk at a very disgruntled Violet Bridgerton.

Anon: But also imagine just how unimpressed the spouses are with the Bridgertons in this

Me:

That's gotta be my favorite part about this. The spouses are just watching these weirdo Bridgertons flirt with them and they're all just so unimpressed. Kate, Sophie, and Penelope are busy women running their tea, illustrations, and writing businesses. They've got work to do, and don't have time to waste on bloody rakes. Especially second and third son rakes who do nothing but throw away money. Kate should count herself lucky that her weirdo rake at least has a job to make money.

Simon, Phillip, and Michael aren't safe either because Bridgertons D, E, and F have taken an interest in them, much to Violet's delight, and Portia's horror. Is she in some kind of fanficion? She swears this is like one of those AU fanfics her roommate used to write in college claiming that the villains made better love interests than the actual love interests.

The boys aren't too impressed by the Bridgertons either. They have their own stuff going on like running (or soon to be running) their own estates, or gathering data from their experiments. Honestly the only reason they are here is because they want to make sure the girls are okay at these things. 

They all have understandings too (Simon and Kate, Michael and Sophie, Phillip and Penelope) that should they need a spouse for convince they would marry each. other. At least with one another they know what they are getting into. 

Portia nods her head in approval when all six of them tell her that they have no plans of courtship with the Bridgertons. She then proceeds to throw a victorious smirk towards a disgruntled Violet.

Felicity and Lucy are watching from behind the scenes, recording everything in letters so Gareth doesn't miss out on the drama happening. Honestly Lady Danbury should just get him tutors and have him learn at home like Phillip did. He's missing out on so much drama! They have no idea what awaits them in a few years when two other Bridgertons will finally come of age.

Mary only shakes her head, she knows it is not gonna be that easy. From what she has observed so far the kids and their respective Bridgertons have about as much tension as Portia and Violet do. She might be seeing things too but it looks like the Bridgertons like the chase.

Mary wonders how long it will be before scandal breaks out.

[fallen-gabrielle]

people/critics saying that the mario movie isn't emotional driven or lack emotions are CLEARLY single children and/or have only one kid. Or if they have multiple kids, then i feel sorry for the children because there is nothing worse than having a parent raised as a single child and then trying to raise brothers and sisters at the same time. these people CANNOT understand the connection between siblings. therefore they cannot comprehend the pure emotion between the mario brothers in the movie, which is, BY THE WAY, extremely healthy and wholesome, something that we don't really see much in medias.

sure the mario movie isn't exceptionally revolutionary story wise but it shows what fraternal love is at its purest form. the real emotions in that movie were from mario and luigi's interaction and bond. you can feel how much they care for each other, by simply looking at their body language but also the things they do to cheer themselves up. luigi going to mario's room to reassure him that he isn't bringing his little bro down with him is such a sweet, real moment. when they're separated and mario is worried as fuck about luigi because they were never apart for this long hit me in my feels so hard you have no ideas.

maybe i am a little biased towards these kind of relationships/tropes, but i have a good reason to be. my sisters and i were separated from our mom when we were kids, and the social services also wanted to separate us sisters across the country at some point. we got lucky because we have the best mom in the universe, no joke no exaggeration, but even then there was still the threat that we could be split apart once again. luckily it didn't happen. but we learned to stick to each other and that family is an important value that medias don't fucking care about. i keep seeing tv shows where there's always the mean family member who annoys the protagonist or something, or that the "interesting" family dynamic in these shows is that they're toxic as fuck because haha, look they're not a perfect family after all, or whatever.

so i can tell you that seeing the mario brothers getting separated was painfully heartwrenching for me. sure i knew it was gonna happen, that was in the first trailers, but hey, the build up before that scene in the movie was awesome and made the scene even more painful to watch. and i can tell you that their reunion was the most beautiful scene in the whole movie. mario saves luigi from a certain death and when he looks at his little bro all safe and sound and the sheer relief on his face, i fucking cried man. they hugged so hard because they've been apart from each other and they needed that physical contact so badly. showing affection physically towards our brothers and sisters is completely normal and must be shown in medias. only sick weirdos would interpret it the wrong way, because they don't know about fraternal love. it's a sweet and natural love that exists and we need to talk about it. i can't exactly say my relationship with my sisters is that perfect idyllic love, but that's why it's so important for me to see a healthy relationship between brothers.

the mario movie was emotional, but just because it wasn't the emotions these idiots wanted it doesn't mean there wasn't any emotion in the movie. there was, and it's called fraternal love. you didn't feel it? then you don't value family as much as you think you do. fraternal love is real and i will not stand people shitting on it like it's nothing.

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

I have a complicated outlook on the big reveal that Chuck (aka god) is the villain.

On one hand, I'm like, very anti religion. I don't believe in god at all. I think organized religion is evil and easily corrupted. and I see the ways that religion (specifically christianity) gives people an excuse to be hateful. basically, I like the fact that god is the villain in supernatural bc I see religion / christianity so negatively. it felt like a hell yeah moment for me. especially bc I was raised in the south where everyone is just soooooooooo christian and people have told me my whole life about the "power of prayer" and that I need to "give everything to god". which, in my opinion, all of that is ~bullshit~. especially because like... we see horrible things happen everyday to people who do not deserve such treatment, but tHe GoOd LoRd doesn't lift a finger to stop it (bc he's not real). And even if he was real (he’s not), you’re telling me that children get cancer and people get murdered but he’s this loving almighty father??? You’re telling me there’s a pLaN and a ReAsOn FoR eVeRyThInG??? Bullshit. Absolutely not. There’s no reason for a child to get cancer. There’s no reason for rape and murder to exist. so I've always viewed church/ prayer as shouting into the void. Bc no one is listening!!! which is basically what happened to sam and dean. god was not answering prayers, he didn't care. he didn't listen. So the reveal of god as the villain was so satisfying to me, it felt like vindication.

BUT-

on the other hand, I loved chuck! before the reveal that he was The God, back when he was just a guy to us, I was like "what a weird little dude. He's endearing and kind of pathetic and he the writes supernatural books, that's fun." and in every episode after that (up until the reveal of him as god) I liked him more and more. Then we found out he was god and my view of him changed a little. I was kinda pissed at him for being such an absentee father and leaving sam and dean alone to deal with all the apocalyptic shit / general awfulness. but he was still that endearing, likable guy. And he talked about free will and how he didn’t step in because it wasn’t right of him to intervene and dictate their choices. so I didn't hate his guts…

UNTIL- the s14 finale. He's just such a spiteful asshole. The way he sees sam and dean as nothing more than his favorite show makes me ill. And it made me miss the version of him from the earlier seasons, when I thought he was just some weirdo prophet guy.

even when I rewatch the show, I still love that version of chuck. I still really enjoy him. And then when everything turns sour in the s14 finale, I hate his fucking guts.

[milliedazzledust]

Somewhere Only We Know (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request: @the-craziestone story about Bucky x Reader, where Bucky is really obsessed with Reader - But not in a creepy way, more like he's really really in love with her and he can only see her, like she's his world Anon: can you do something with reader gifting Bucky Barnes the 3 Lord of the Rings books? They were published after WWII, and reader knows he liked The Hobbit so she thinks it's something he'd like

Words: 2943

A/N: this is pure fluff with no warning, also I changed a tiny bit the second request to fit the story - enjoy ;)

He couldn’t explain the sadness he constantly felt every time he was walking through the streets of the city he used to know by heart. A stranger in a strange land was the best way to describe him. More than seventy years had passed, and he hadn’t witnessed any changes. While he had been a puppet deprived of freewill and controlled with the sole purpose of killing, he had missed the birth of a whole new world. Now, as he strode around the streets, he could easily remember each of their names, but none of them were familiar. His mind remained in the 1940’s and in the middle of the noises, surrounded by the sound of first responders vehicles, the children running around and cars piling up on the road, he was a stranger in his own home. It was an unsettling feeling, a pining melancholy that reminded him in every step he made that his Brooklyn didn’t exist anymore. 

He was furious in a way, but mostly confused. Haunted by memories he had gotten back a second ago, and they didn’t fit this new reality. He wasn’t even nostalgic, but the loneliness was getting heavier every day. He could still picture the park he used to take his sister, the alley where Steve had gotten beaten up one day, the bakery his mother used to go to every morning. Treasure of souvenirs he would keep forever. And although the park, the alley and the streets names were still here, he was left alone walking down Brooklyn. 

“Hey, Y/N!” He heard a voice shouting. “Where do I put those ?” 

His head mechanically turned to a young boy carrying a heavy box of what looked like antics. Without thinking he crossed the road and when his eyes laid on the small shop, he gasped. There it was, one small piece of his past still here. It was an old bookstore he used to go to with his sister. The man, a friend, an immigrant from France with a thick accent, would let them stay for hours. Bucky loved reading to Rebecca. They would sit inside and she’d insist to hear The Hobbit. François, the man owning the store, would make coffee and stay with them, relating the stories he had heard around the world, telling them all about the France he had known. It was all still here. ‘Au Nom de la Rose’ was still here. 

He didn’t hesitate a second and rushed inside the place, an honest smile on his face. His eyes roamed over the room and he took a deep breath. It was just like he remembered, a place filled with murmurs and whispers floating above his head and through the roof, indistinct conversations between friends, huge windows bringing in a powerful light at this hour of the day, plants in almost every corner. Even the atmosphere was the same, this powerful smell of imagination coming from the laying books on the shelves, begging to be read, mixing with a distinct smell coming from the dust. The small couch and the old table he used to sit by with his sister were also there. The wooden pieces had many rough and sharp edges but looked just as smooth and clean as he remembered. Finally, his eyes landed on a woman there. He watched her rearranging a bouquet of daffodils, breathing in the perfume of the vibrant flowers as she tended to them meticulously. 

For some reason, he couldn’t look away. She felt familiar, like he had known her all his life, yet he had never seen her before. When she turned around he took an instinctive step toward her. She noticed, raised her head and that was the moment their eyes met. His breath caught in his throat when she smiled at him. He stood, frozen on the spot, staring at her. He couldn’t comprehend that instant connection. There was an inexplicable sense of excitement yet weird feeling that they had known each other forever, that they were meeting each other again after a long journey. He was transfixed, almost stuck by the confusing mixture of emotions but oddly comforted by them - all at the same time. 

“Can I help you ?” She asked him.

He surprised himself thinking there was something eerily calming about her voice, that he could listen to her for hours.

“Do I know you ?” He quickly wondered out loud, mentally facepalming himself for his lack of tact. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking that question ?”

“Why ?”

“You’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes” She grinned.

“I’m … I’m sorry” He apologized profusely. “I didn’t mean to…” 

“Look weird ?” 

He could swear his heart skipped a beat when he heard her laugh.

“This place is beautiful”

“Thank you” 

“How long have you been working here ?”

“Forever” She smirked. “The store belongs to my family. Passed on from generation to generation” 

Bucky raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“You’re related to François Y/L/N ?” He questioned.

She tilted her head, crossing her arms.

“Now I’m intrigued” She told him. “How do you know about my grandfather ?” 

“We’ve met,” He answered without thinking. He rapidly realized his mistake when she narrowed her eyes in utter curiosity. “I … I didn’t mean … I mean … It was … It was a long time ago”

He gulped, hoping she wouldn’t push it. She looked him up and down, assessing him. 

“What’s your name, weirdo ?” She inquired, giving him a skeptical glance.

“Bucky. M’am” 

She smirked.

“Let me guess, a soldier ?” 

“How … ?” 

“You all have the same manners, and the same eyes”

“What do you mean ?”

She was now standing in front of him, staring at his face with the most adorable smile he had ever seen.

“You carry the same sadness and the horror you’ve seen” She replied honestly. “My father was a lot like that too” 

Her answer had the effect of a punch in the gut he hadn’t been expecting. He felt naked under her gaze, a stranger with the power to see through his soul.

“I’m Y/N” She introduced herself, raising her hand to shake his.

It was rare for him to smile truthfully but the unexpected bliss slowly growing made his lips twitch before he could even acknowledge it.

“Hi, Y/N” He greeted her.

She chuckled, amused. 

“Hi, Bucky” She murmured. 

After that encounter, he made a point of coming back as much as he could. He stayed for hours sitting on the couch, reading the same book over and over again. They shared quick words but he didn’t dare to start up a conversation, too afraid he would say something he shouldn’t, something that would scare her away. He was content like this. There was no Winter Soldier, no war, no fight, no one else than Bucky. Being next to this girl was in itself a medication for him. It made no sense but she was so bright and radiant. Like a magnet, he was sucked into an invisible gravitational pull toward her.

By the second week of him coming into the store, she started to notice the small marks of attention. He would come so silently she wouldn’t hear a thing, bringing a fresh cup of coffee he would lay on her counter when she wasn’t looking, replacing the daffodils before they could fade, carrying the heavy boxes filled with new books. When she wasn’t working, she would grab something to read and sit next to him. They would exchange a smile but wouldn’t talk. The proximity was enough. Their presence was louder than any word. A quiet routine they were slowly creating. 

By the fourth month, nothing had changed and that day was no different. Rain was pouring outside and the store was empty, except for Y/N and Bucky. Just as usual, he was reading in a corner while she was working. New stacks of books had arrived and she was methodically putting them on the shelves. Standing on a ladder, on the tip of her toes, she was so focused on the task she had failed to notice the soldier walking up to her. 

“Do you need any help ?” He offered. 

Surprised to hear his voice so close to her, she lost her balance and slipped. She yelped as her ankle hit one side of the ladder and automatically closed her eyes, anticipating the fall. She tried to brace herself but before her body could touch the ground she felt something cold holding her waist. Suddenly, instead of laying on the floor, she was against his hard chest, in a protective embrace. She recognized his arms around her and shivered at the odd coldness. He  felt it immediately and was quick to put some distance between them, making sure his metal arm was no more on her body and only his human hand was steadying her. 

“Are you alright ?” He questioned. She pursed her lips, trying not to show that she was hurt when she heard how worried he sounded. 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m fine”

He looked skeptic but didn’t say anything about it.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” He apologetically told her.

He took the books scattered on the ground, putting them away, and helped her walk to the couch.

“You know, if the goal was to literally make me fall for you, I’d say you did a pretty good job there” She flirted, making him chuckle. 

He sat on the table in front of her and grabbed her calve, gently laying her leg on his thigh to assess the damage. From the corner of his eyes, he could see her blushing. It made him insanely happy to know he wasn’t the only one affected by their closeness. They tried not to look at one another, too embarrassed by the situation. This was the closest they had ever been and the touch on his skin on hers was more than enough to make her heart ready to jump out of her chest. When he clasped her injured ankle, she cried and instinctively pushed him back. 

“Fine, huh ?” He repeated her own words with a smirk.

She huffed and rolled her eyes.

“It’s not a big deal, Bucky” She reassured him. “I’ve got to get back to work”

“You’re not moving from this couch” He ordered.

“Is that an order, soldier ?” She ironically threw at him, crossing her arms in annoyance.

“You bet it is”

She watched him, intrigued, as he stood up and piled up some books on the table to put her ankle to rest on it. 

“No moving around, got it ?” He made sure she would follow his advice.

“Aye, aye, Captain”

He chuckled 

“Technically speaking, I’m not a Captain” He confessed as he continued what she had been doing earlier and started putting the books carefully on the right shelves. 

“Would you have preferred Sergeant ?” She replied, bitting her lips, unsure this was the wrong moment to admit she knew who he was.

He instantly stopped what he was doing and slowly turned around to stare at her.

“What did you say ?” He asked, more scared than ever.

Up until that moment, he had avoided telling her who he was. Becoming part of the Avengers meant his identity wasn’t a secret anymore, and although he had done a terrific job staying hidden among the mass of people, it wouldn’t have taken more than a little push to find who he really was. He stood in front of her, frozen, not having a clue how to react.

“Sergeant Barnes, isn’t it ?” She sounded nervous, almost frightened to say his name out loud.

“I… “ He tried to say anything, but as the rain kept pouring outside, slowly turning into a thunderstorm, he blankly stared back.

“Would you have told me ?” She whispered.

“Eventually”

She humorlessly snorted. 

“We’ve known each other for more than three months, Bucky. I see you practically every day. Be honest, eventually would’ve never come” 

“It’s not like that” He tried to explain.

“I’m not mad, don’t worry” She sadly smiled. “I just wish… I guess I wish you could’ve trust me” 

He rubbed his jaw in frustration and made a step toward her. Without breaking his gaze, he slowly took the glove off, revealing his metal hand. Still, he didn’t look at her, too afraid of her reaction. The cold metal had never felt so hot against his skin, a burning reminder of the stranger he had become.

“I didn’t want you to be scared,” He admitted in a broken voice. 

“Of you ?” She was surprised. “Why would I be ?”

“I’m not a good man, Y/N”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that ?” 

“You don’t understand…”

“The red box under the counter” She interrupted him. “Can you take it for me ? And turn the sign of the shop, we’re closed.”

He gave her a puzzled look, but did as she said anyway. He locked the front door and took the box she asked for before walking to her and putting it directly in her hands.

“Sit” She instructed him.

He didn’t dare to stay near her and chose to stay on an opposite chair.

“I found this a little after you and I met” She told him, motioning to the box. “It was in the basement, hidden under old junks my parents had kept over the years”

He let her speak, not understanding where this was going or why she was telling him about that. She slowly opened the mystery box and took a small envelope out of it. It looked old, so old the paper had turned into a deep shade of yellow.

“My grandfather wrote this” She confessed. “In 1957. It’s addressed to Bucky and Rebecca Barnes. I believe it belongs to you” 

She handed him the letter that he took with shaky hands.

“How did you… ?” He started to ask.

“It was a long shot,” She explained. “The first time you were here, you said my grandfather's name like it meant something to you. Like you really knew him. When I found the box, and the envelope, I didn’t make the connection with you right away. But your name was all I needed to start my research. My parents kept pretty much everything so it didn’t took me too long to find an old photo with you and him, back in the 1930′s” 

He wasn’t moving at all when she showed him a picture François had taken of them right before he was enlisted. 

“I wanted to wait for the right time to tell you, I guess. I mean, you have enough ghosts as it is”

“Still not scared ?” He inquired in a humorless chuckle.

“Not one bit” She didn’t hesitate to reply.

She softly smiled and motioned for him to come closer. When he sat next to her, she moved the box from her lap to his. 

“We were friends, François and I” He recalled, his eyes glued on the letter. “He was married to Eloise. This bookstore was their treasure. He kept repeating that I shouldn’t go to war when I could stay hidden under the pages of books that would take me around the world without risking my life”

She took his metal palm between her fingers when she heard his voice breaking. He almost tried to remove it but she tightly entwined their hands together.

“Maybe he was right” He muttered under his breath.

“Or maybe you and I were meant to meet almost a century later” She shrugged.

He snorted before turning around the envelope to open it. Y/N gently laid her head against his shoulder and let him read in silence. She didn’t move when she felt his body shaking with tears but only held his hand harder.

“They’re originals, from 1954 I think. He kept them for you” She told him as he slowly took what was in the red box. A set of three old books. “Why Lord of the Rings, though ?” 

He laughed,sniffing, before brushing the tears off his face and staring down at the woman. At that very moment, he felt like the journey was done. His soul had stopped the search it had been on for a time that felt like forever. Like a century. 

“My sister and I, we used to come here often,” He said in a melancholic grin. Sorrow was finally starting to be replace by something much better, happiness. “We would sit on this very couch and she would make me read the Hobbit. She used to love that story so much.”

“How many times has she make you read it ?” The woman smirked.

“Enough to remember every single word” He exaggerated, making her giggle. “When I told François I was leaving, he said he would send me books to help me travel away from the war, even just for a moment. I guess he kept them, hoping I would come back. Even after I was declared dead” 

“Maybe deep down he knew you weren’t”

“And he planned this whole meeting with his granddaughter ?” He ironically added.

“Oh no, that was beyond him. That was fate, Barnes”

“I was meant to find you” He agreed, a deep feeling of love and utter contentment forming in his heart. He bent his head down and let all he needed to say be spoken through the kiss they shared. 

“Will you read it to me ?” She playfully requested.

Overflowed with joy, he smirked and kissed her forehead before opening the old book on his lap. There it was, the only choice he needed to make. The only home he had yearn to create. Her. 

[persephone-plasmids]

Nuka-World

A Deacon X Sole Fanfic

[AO3]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Nuka-World

“I guess I’m just confused about why they dedicated an entire section of the park to their space theme. Why not just a ride?” MacCready asked, eyeing the Star Port tower in the Galactic Zone at Nuka-World.

“To get the youth excited about space exploration,” Danse answered in his usual serious tone. “They wanted to recruit potential cadets young.”

MacCready pulled a face at this explanation. “Do kids really like space, though?”

“Seriously, MacCready?” Sole asked. “You have a kid. You should know this.”

Deacon listened to the group theorizing over the chosen aesthetic of Nuka-World while he slid a Cappy shirt over his head with a grin.

“I know Dez sent us here to recover the kidnapped synth, but all this free merch is going to be incredibly distracting,” Deacon said.

At his words, Sole’s eyes grew large. “Where did you get that? I want one!”

Deacon nodded to the merchandise rack behind him and smiled as Sole scampered over with pure joy in her eyes. Danse watched with slight disapproval while MacCready continued examining the Star Port in confusion.

Bringing the tin can and the grumpy sniper along hadn’t been Deacon’s idea. Dez had said they’d need more than just Deacon and Sole on this mission since they had so much ground to cover. When Deacon had suggested Tinker Tom, Dez had just laughed and told Sole to ask some of “her people”. Whatever that meant.

Apparently, Sole’s “people” were a self-hating synth boy scout and MacCready, whose skill Deacon respected, but he still didn’t like the idea of someone honing in on his mission.

“This entire park seems wildly unsafe for children,” Danse said, his thick brows knitted together in a line.

“Nuka Cola has always been a bit shady,” MacCready agreed. “Makes sense that their park wouldn’t be quite as kid-friendly as it should be.”

“All right, I’m ready to get this show on the road,” Sole said, walking out from the back room of the merchandise area with a Cappy shirt and cowboy hat.

“No fair! I didn’t see the hat!” Deacon whined. “I would have taken it for myself.”

“We can share custody,” Sole promised with a grin in Deacon’s direction.

Deacon screwed up his face as he thought this over. “Fine, but I get weekends and holidays.”

“Deal.” Sole gave him one of her smiles that reminded him why he needed to keep his distance from her emotionally. One of the smiles that made him want all the things he couldn’t have.

He ignored it.

“You’re both wrong,” MacCready said, snatching the hat quickly from Sole’s head and placing it on his own. “This baby’s coming with me.”

Sole laughed at this, making Deacon feel that familiar pang of jealousy again. He prided himself on making Sole laugh. He didn’t love that someone else was currently taking over his favorite job.

“You two are going to Dry Rock Gulch, I guess it’s only fair that you get the cowboy hat, RJ,” Sole said, straightening the hat on MacCready’s head with a familiarity that made Deacon feel much less in control of himself than he normally was.

“We should get going before it gets too dark,” Deacon said with a forced smile. “We don’t want Danse rusting from the evening dew.”

“Negative, soldier, “ Danse said. “My power armour doesn’t rust.”

“At ease,” Deacon responded with a little salute at the former Brotherhood of Steel Paladin. “Try to enjoy yourself a little Danse. Despite what they told you in the Brotherhood, it won’t actually kill you.”

Danse gave him a look like he wasn’t amused by his joke before turning away and heading towards Dry Rock Gulch with MacCready.

“Geez,” Deacon said. “Never send that guy on a stealth mission. I swear we’ll be able to hear his power armor clomping around through the whole park.”

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing we already cleared out those raiders, huh?”

“No thanks to the tin can and grumpy pants over there,” Deacon said, now smiling at Sole.

“That one was a Deacon and Sole special,” Sole answered. “We didn’t need any outside assistance.”

Deacon nodded at this, watching Sole for a moment too long before realizing he was being weird. He realized that a lot around Sole. He had to constantly remind himself how he acted around people who didn’t make him feel the way Sole did. It was exhausting.

“I say we head over to that old junkyard. If I was a Synth in hiding, that’s where I’d go,” Sole said.

“You got it, boss,” Deacon answered, following her as she began walking.

The two walked in silence for a long time. Deacon guessed that Sole was thinking about the mission. Deacon, of course, was having another mini existential crisis regarding Sole. But he was also attempting to lie to himself about his feelings, which turned it into a whole thing. He could be a very convincing liar.

When the two rounded an old abandoned building, Deacon was shocked to see a crowd right in front of them.

“Whoa, hold up,” Deacon said, placing his arm straight out to stop Sole from walking.

It was too little too late though. The group of people in space suits standing had clearly seen them. How had Deacon missed them? They were literally a handful of weirdos in space suits.

Sole had distracted him with her very existence again. This was why he had to stop letting himself explore any potential feelings for her. They just got in the way of their missions. They made him sloppy. And sloppy could very well mean “dead” in this situation.

“Greetings,” one of the space-suit-clad people said, taking a step forward.

Deacon placed one hand behind his back where he kept a gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans. The other hand was wrapped tightly around Sole’s arm, keeping her in a safe position slightly behind him.

“Listen, we’re looking for information on--” Sole began, but the woman who appeared to be the leader of the odd group before them interrupted her.

“Are you here to help us get the spaceship up and running?” the woman asked. Her slightly crazed eyes were wide and bloodshot.

Sole furrowed her brow and looked at Deacon who was still trying to understand what he’d just heard.

“The great power above told us they would send someone soon. You, my weary traveler, must be the one to help us rebuild our spacecraft.”

“No,” Sole said slowly. “We’re just here too--” but again she was interrupted, this time by Deacon’s hand placed clumsily over her lips.

“Wait just… shush for a second,” he whispered with the widest grin she’d ever seen. “This is amazing.” He looked like a kid on Christmas. “Yes, my fair… uh… lady. We were sent from the head honcho in the stars to come offer our support for your interstellar travels.”

Deacon’s voice had adopted a grand tone and he released his concealed gun to instead gesture widely at the group in front of him.

“Excellent news, kind sir,” the woman said. “I am Dara. Come. We don’t have much time. Follow us.”

“Lead the way my most excellent and esteemed priestess,” Deacon said.

Sole looked over at the spy incredulously, mouthing a quick, “What are you doing?” to him.

She wasn’t sure if Deacon hadn’t understood her question or if he was just willfully ignoring her, because he simply clapped his hands together and mouthed back, “I know, right?”

The space-suit-clad group led them through the old junkyard to a red metal object that looked an awful lot like an old carnival ride. It was supposed to look like a UFO, but anyone could see it wasn’t any kind of actual aircraft.

“Ah yes, a fine specimen indeed,” Deacon said when they approached the ride. His voice was still serious as he spoke, though Sole knew him well enough to hear the pure glee behind it. “And what, pray tell, can we do to get this up and running for you again?”

“We have the fusion cells we need right here,” Dara said. “But we don’t know how to install them. If you can get our craft up and running, I know we’ll be on our way to our higher forms soon enough.”

“You’ll be on your way somewhere,” Sole scoffed under her breath, obviously not enjoying this nearly as much as Deacon.

“Well then step inside and get comfortable,” Deacon said with a grin. “I’ll get these fusion cores installed… uh… posthaste.”

Sole snorted at this, to which Deacon elbowed her. He didn’t want her giving him away just because she found him amusing.

Dara led the group of space cadets into the UFO ride and shut the door behind her, leaving Sole and Deacon alone.

“Okay, what in the actual world is going on?” Sole asked incredulously.

“I know! This is seriously amazing,” Deacon said, barely able to contain his joy. “These people actually think this is a spaceship!”

“I’m pretty sure this is a Gravitron,” Sole said. “They had them at the local carnival every year before the war. I used to love this ride.”

Sole’s eyes adopted that distant look they got whenever she talked about her time before the Vault-Tec incident. It made him feel sad for her, before he selfishly realized that if Vault-Tec hadn’t frozen her, he never would have met her.

“Will it be safe for me to fix it for them?” Deacon asked, Sole. He wanted to mess with the space cult, not kill them.

“They might get a bit motion sick,” Sole began. “But they should be fine.”

At her words, Deacon’s face adopted a mischievous grin that made Sole’s cheeks flush. “Excellent.”

Deacon installed the fusion cores Dara had given him without much effort before holding his hand out to Sole.

“Shall we?”

Sole let a grin spread across her full lips, taking Deacon’s hand in her own. “I can handle this ride, but I’m not sure you really understand what you’re in for.”

“You don’t think I could handle your ride?” Deacon asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively at her.

Sole took a step closer to Deacon, leaning close to him so that her lips were against his ear. “I know you couldn’t handle my ride, stealth boy.”

Deacon shivered involuntarily at her words and the feeling of her breath against his ear, but as quickly as the moment had happened, it passed. Sole pulled Deacon into the UFO ride with her, leaving him with a lingering mental image that he’d have to examine more thoroughly when he was alone later.

“This impeccably dressed harbinger of your more superior forms has successfully repaired your vessel,” Sole announced loudly, holding up Deacon’s hand. She looked over at him with a grin that set his heart on overdrive. “Not only was he able to repair your vessel, but he’s also promised to personally make sure his work is beyond reproach by coming along with you.”

“The star angel speaks the truth,” Deacon said, making Sole snort laugh again, though she was a bit better about covering this one up. “Sole, if you’ll do the honors.”

“Everybody up against the wall,” Sole said, watching as the space cult obeyed. “Deacon? Up against the wall?”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to say that to me,” He said with a grin.

Sole just rolled her eyes and pointed at the wall, waiting for him to oblige. When everyone was in position, she took her place in the middle of the metal room and flipped the switch.

In an instant, the ride began to hum as the floor started to vibrate. At first, nothing moved and Deacon worried he hadn’t actually managed to fix the ride. But as the humming grew louder, the room began to spin.

Sole stayed in place in the center of the room and Deacon tried to keep his eyes on her, but as the rotations became quicker and quicker, he had to close his eyes. The force of the rotating ride crushed him against the padded wall of the room and he had to press his lips together to keep from getting sick. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the ride began to slow down until it eventually stopped.

When Deacon opened his eyes, the world was still spinning. Sole was watching him as if waiting for him to speak to the cult, but he couldn’t form a single thought.

“The mission has been a success,” Sole finally said, seeing that Deacon was completely useless at the moment. “Your craft has been repaired and will be ready for your final voyage once your preparations are complete.”

“Bless you,” Dara said, looking at Sole. “Bless both of you.”

Without another word, Dara and the other cultists left the UFO, leaving Deacon clutching the wall and breathing heavily. In an instant, Sole was beside him. She supported him as Deacon tilted his head down.

“Told you you couldn’t handle this ride,” Sole said, her voice lined with amusement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Deacon said. “I feel fantastic. Think I might go run a marathon with Hancock later.”

Sole placed her hand on Deacon’s cheek gently, lifting his eyes to hers. He still felt sick, but the more she touched him, the less he seemed to notice the motion sickness.

“Hey lightweight, what do you think Danse and MacCready will say when they find out an old carnival ride floored you?”

“That question is irrelevant because if you tell them I’ll just deny everything,” he responded. “And of the two of us, who’s the better liar?”

Deacon was grinning at Sole again, but she didn’t smile back. Instead she was watching him curiously, her eyes roaming his face. He was confused by her expression before he realized just how clear she looked to him. Clearer than normal.

Panicked, Deacon brought his hand up to his face to find his sunglasses missing. He’d always been good at putting up walls between himself and everyone else, but he had a hard time doing that with Sole. The sunglasses were the only way he could keep some semblance of distance from her. Without them, he worried she’d see right through him. See who he really was. See how he really felt about her.

Deacon looked around himself for the sunglasses before Sole held them up wordlessly.

“You win, Charmer,” Deacon said with a nervous laugh. “Time to give them back now.”

Deacon reached out for the glasses but Sole held them behind her back with a wicked grin.

“I don’t know that I want you to put them back on. I’m enjoying finally seeing you,” she said, her eyes seeming to bore into his soul.

“No one wants to see this hot mess, trust me,” Deacon said, reaching for the sunglasses but failing to get them. All he managed to do was somehow get even closer to Sole.

“How did I not realize your eyes are blue?” Sole asked, her voice soft. “They’re… stunning.” She instantly blushed at her own words but didn’t back down. And she still didn’t give Deacon his sunglasses back. “They’re not just blue… they’re like… ice blue.”

“Must be all the surgery,” Deacon joked, even though his voice sounded flat.

The truth was, Deacon changed his appearance all the time. But his eyes? His eyes were his own. Always had been. They were the one thing he didn’t change about himself. So to have Sole admiring them in such a personal way felt… amazing.

And dangerous.

Sole bit her lip as she watched him and Deacon swallowed hard. “Why don’t you want anyone to see you?” she asked.

He wanted to tell her that he was scared they wouldn't like what was left after all the lies were stripped away. But he didn’t say that. Instead he said, “Because I don’t want them to fall in love with my beautiful face. It just wouldn’t be fair to destroy some unsuspecting wastelander like that.”

At his words, Sole laughed softly, just like he hoped she would. If she was laughing then she wasn’t asking him questions that hit too close to home for him.

“I mean, now that you’ve seen the full effect of my icy blue gaze, you surely must understand that I wield an ungodly amount of power.”

“I really don’t know how you manage to fit yourself and your ego into your tiny sleeping quarters in the Railroad,” Sole said with a roll of her eyes.

“There’s enough room,” Deacon said, his voice now teasing. “More than enough room if you ever want to join the two of us.”

And that was it. The truth of the matter. Deacon could flirt with Sole all day long if it was all a big joke. But if he ever told her that he’d dreamed about what it would be like to wake up next to her, he’d lose the small amount of control he still pretended to have in this partnership. He couldn’t tell her that he longed for the casual and familiar touches of two people who trusted each other so completely that their physical contact was expected and normal.

“Do you really want me to take you up on that offer?” Sole asked, a challenge in her eyes.

Deacon still hadn’t learned that he couldn’t tease her about their flirtation for too long. She’d always make it real. And as Deacon knew, real was dangerous.

“Or should I just hold onto these sunglasses for you?”

Deacon leaned forward, sliding his arms around Sole’s waist. He hated himself for the fact that she actually closed her eyes as he got closer to her, obviously expecting him to make a move. But instead, he grabbed the sunglasses that she hid behind her back before pulling away from her with a forced grin.

“Got em,” he said.

Sole opened her eyes, and when Deacon saw just how much disappointment they held, his heart broke. When he heard Sole try to cover up her disappointment with a joke the way he always did, his heart broke even more.

“Well then I guess it’s just you and your ego in your bed tonight,” she said. “Let’s go find Danse and MacCready to see if they’ve had any luck locating the Synth.”

“Oh right, we’ve got an actual reason to be here,” Deacon said, quickly putting his sunglasses back on and feeling immensely more comfortable behind his wall of protection.

“We actually have two reasons to be here,” Sole said as she walked towards the door of the UFO ride. “We need to find the Synth, but we also need to go to the fun house in Kiddie Kingdom.”

“Did I miss that part of the briefing, Charmer?” Deacon asked, following Sole to the bright junkyard outside.

“Dez probably just forgot to tell us how important it is that we go to the funhouse,” Sole said “But you and I are professionals. We have to check everything thoroughly.”

Sole raised her eyebrows at Deacon as she walked away and Deacon was left wondering how Dez ever could have thought it was a good idea to send Sole and himself to an amusement park together.

They’d never get anything done.

[Part 4]

Based on the time my OC and Deacon ran into that crazy cult in Nuka-World :P

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 7

Day 7 - There is a string tied around your pinky that only you can see, the end of it leads to your soulmate.

Pairing(s): Kid AU! Intrulogical

TWs: Remus being Remus [though not overly so, he’s like, 9 here], some swearing

–

Remus Castillo and Logan Smith were two very different children; former was creative and bursting with chaotic energy, while the latter preferred to be more logical, more stable. One studied hard into the night despite his young years, the other decided that a good time was filling a blender with crayons and silly putty to see what would happen. Both attended different schools, lived a good distance apart, and neither of their families knew the other existed.

What could possibly bring together such opposing forces?

If your answer wasn’t being forcibly dragged kicking and screaming from the local museum by security for tampering with the exhibits and screaming about historical theft, then congratulations; you’re most likely still sane.

How did these very different children meet, you ask? 

The story began on a Friday lunchtime - as all good stories often do - when Sanders Elementary and Faraday Academy For Gifted Children both booked their museum visits for the same time slot. Thankfully, the museum staff speculated that they could indeed handle two classes of fourth graders at once - those poor, unfortunate souls - and decided to start both classes off on either sides of the museum with a little overlap.

Logan entered the foyer with his peers, gazing around at the array of trinkets and treasures adorning the space. Though he hungered for knowledge of all kinds, his heart was set on the cosmos, reaching for a copy of the museum’s map when his hand was blocked by another. He recoiled and turned to face the other; a boy with tanned skin as opposed to his own pasty complexion, with wild green eyes that bore into Logan’s own, and a grin like a shark about to snap Logan’s hand up in it’s jaws.

“I call dibs, four eyes!”

Logan huffed, straightening his glasses, “There are plenty of maps to go around, there is no need for rudeness-”

“Why do you talk like you’ve got a stick up your ass?”, the boy asked with no hint of remorse nor shame, “Just talk like a regular kid, jeez!”

Logan was flabbergasted. No one had ever talked to him like that before. Then again, no one ever really talked to him in general. Perhaps that was why his lonely little brain could only think to stammer out, 

“Who ARE you!?”

The boy roared with laughter, “Wow, thats all you have to say!? And they call ME weird!” , he shot a hand out towards Logan’s, not removing the one touching the map, “I’m Remus! What’s your name, frankenstein?”

Logan huffed, “Logan Smith. And you know,”, he began, puffing his chest out proudly as he yanked the map away, “Frankenstein was the scientist, not the monster, therefore, you’re not insulting me-”

Without hesitation, Remus leant into Logan’s space and licked the map, causing Logan to jolt back and drop it. Picking up his spoils, Remus chuckled manically, “You look smart but you’re super dumb. Frankenstein IS the monster, dumbass, that’s the whole point.”. Without waiting for Logan’s rebuttal, Remus made his way back to his class, leaving Logan to frustratedly grab another map and return to his class, unaware of the string that formed around his pinky…

The tour was everything Logan had hoped for; an informative romp through space and time, enjoying the sights of the planetarium and a walk through a tunnel lined with geodes. And yet, all Logan could think about was that stupid boy who stole HIS map. Hmph! How dare Remus call him stupid! Whatever, at least they would stop soon to have lunch in the Polar Exhibit and he wouldn’t have to think about- 

Oh god dammit.

As they entered the wide circular room, he laid eyes on the boy from before pretending to have gotten his tongue stuck to the giant fake iceberg in the centre of the room. Cheering him on was a gaggle of other children while their teacher seemed more content to just eat his own lunch and try to pretend it wasn’t his problem. Logan huffily stormed over to the nearest empty seat and popped open his Big Hero Six lunchbox, ready to moodily munch his jelly sandwiches when a painfully familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

“We meet again, professor!”

Great.

“Remus.”, Logan hissed, though he tried to maintain composure, “A pleasure, I’m sure but I must be-”

“- crazy to run away from your soulmate?”, Remus finished, leaving Logan, once again, speechless.

“E-Excuse me!?”

“Check your pinkie, dingus.”

Logan checked and finally noticed the string, and to his horror, the end of it that tied itself around Remus’ pinkie.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me for life! Unless I die, then you’re stuck with my corpse. Oooh! Maybe you can bring me back to life! Really earn that Frankenstein nickname-”

“This HAS to be a mistake!”, Logan squeaked, flustered and shocked by the news, “There’s no way YOU are my soulmate!”

Logan made eye contact with Remus and for a moment the boy looked hurt, but he plastered on a grin and poked Logan in the arm, “Nope! Fate thinks you’re my future husband, so suck it!”

Groaning, Logan let out an exasperated sigh, “Fine, then I suppose you should tell me about yourself, Remus.”. Logan would - for eternity and a day after - deny that the smile Remus gave him made his little heart flutter for the first time.

As the two ate, Remus went into a long tangent about his life and Logan found himself absolutely fascinated. 

Remus Castillo had a twin brother, Roman, who enjoyed Disney movies and being “an overly wordy drama queen”. They had a single father, much like Logan’s own, whose wife had apparently decided she was destined for greater things that didn’t involve unplanned twin boys (Remus’ words, not his). Logan listened as Remus told him all about his family’s culture, having moved from Aguascalientes to Florida a year ago for work related reasons; retelling fond memories of watching the parade of Calaveras along the Avenida Madero with his father and brother each year. Logan found Remus really enjoyed a mixture of colourful and morbid subjects, each tangent sending Remus on a fun winding road down memory lane or through a vague memory of some educational book.

Logan Smith had wanted nothing to do with the boy who’d licked his hand and stolen his map, but as lunch ended and both classes were being called away to their respective classes, he found he didn’t want to be separated from Remus.

Very apparently, Remus didn’t want to either. If they way he was gasping Logan’s arm and hauling him towards the class from Sanders Elementary instead of his own was any indicator. 

“Come on! You can hang with us! Roman won’t mind! And my buddy Remy’s lotsa fun too-”

“Remus Castillo, stop right there.”

Remus indignantly ignored his teacher, plowing through his sentence, “You’ll LOVE my class, they’re all weirdos like us-”

“REMUS!”, barked his teacher, already done with the nine year old terror, “You let that boy go this instant!”

Remus defiantly clung tighter to Logan’s arm, “No!”

“Remus Castillo, you’re to let go NOW.”

“But he’s my soulmate!”, Remus yelled, causing his classmates to chatter excitedly. It made Logan feel a little self conscious, but Remus didn’t seem to care, “Pleeeeease let him come with us!!”

His teacher rubbed his temples as if it could massage the exhaustion away, “That’s nice, but you are NOT going to cause more trouble, soulmate or not!”

By now, even the children and teacher from Logan’s academy were watching the commotion. It came to a head as Remus’ teacher tried to separate the two of them, earning the tiniest war cry from Remus as he stomped on his teacher’s foot and clung fully to Logan like his life depended on it.

“I’M NOT LEAVING WITHOUT HIM! I’LL STAY HERE UNTIL WE’RE A GROSS MUSHY PILE OF SKIN AND BONES IF I HAVE TO!”

With that pleasant image in his brain, Logan decided to perhaps appeal to his own teacher,

“Miss, can Remus perhaps stay with our group so we may avoid further-”

“Absolutely not,”, she turned up her nose at Remus’ display, “Our school has a reputation to uphold, I will not have it sullied by such a rude child.”

Well that backfired. Now both teachers were having to try and separate the two of them. It took two of the museum’s security personnel to finally haul Remus off of Logan, carrying the writhing child as they assured his teacher that they’d put him in the tantrum room. With the way they handled his feral yelling and attempts to grab at any nearby exhibits for something he could use to bash them with, this probably wasn’t their first Rabid Child Rodeo.

Logan watched dejectedly as they hauled his soulmate out of sight while his teacher ordered him to get in line as they continued their tour. He couldn’t focus on any of the various bewitching artifacts that the guide presented to them on their tour of the ancient world though, all he could think about was Remus. Alone. Stuck in some room. Missing out on the exhibits. Missing him.

“....Emile?”, Logan asked the boy standing to his left.

“Yes, Logan?”

“I’m about to do something very, very impulsive.”

“.... Okay?”

“And reckless.”

“...Right-”

“In the name of fate.”

“........”, Emile sighed, “What do you need me to do?”

“Either talk me out of what is likely a terrible decision that will without a doubt go on my permanent record and possibly disappoint my father. Or encourage me so that I may spend time with my soulmate for as long as possible.”

Emile shook his head, “Well, if cartoons have taught me anything, it’s that you’re gonna go for it no matter what I say so...”. He placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder, “Make it good, Logan, I wanna remember the day the untouchable Logan Smith lost his mind.”. With a shared chuckle, Emile let him wind up for whatever he was about to do, while Logan waited for his moment. The tour guide was gesturing to an exhibit of ancient Mayan armour when Logan chose to strike, raising his hand while Emile awaited the fireworks show to come.

“Sir? I have a question.“

“Of course, what is it?”

“Did the museum ask permission to have that armour?”

The guide looked confused while Logan’s teacher looked ready to have an aneurysm.

“I… don’t understand what you mean. Anyway this-”

“I’m merely asking,”, Logan interrupted, ready to keep pushing until he would be  hauled off by security, “because I believe that if it were my culture being mercilessly appropriated and stolen from, I would be rather upset.”

“We’re allowed to have it because it’s for education-”

“But it’s still stealing. And stealing is always wrong, correct?”

“Well, it-”

“It’s a yes or no question, please answer as such-”

-

Remus hadn’t expected company in the tantrum room, but he wasn’t complaining as Logan was marched in, looking positively proud of himself in spite of the way the security guard nearly tossed him inside with obvious frustration. With a bright grin, Remus pat the beanbag next to him, positively writhing with unbridled joy, “Spill! What’d you do?!”.

Logan tried to play stoic and prideful, but the excitement cracked through in his voice, “I merely inquired as to why museums considered their historical thievery to be ethically justified until the tour guide got angry and attempted to ignore me.”. “Sick!! Then what!?”, Remus’ delighted eyes met Logan’s with a similar sparkle of mischief.

Logan chuckled as he admired their string of fate, as people called it, slowly pulling his eyes from it to meet Remus’ again, “I screamed. Loudly. For quite the duration. I must say, I’m rather proud of my own lung capacity.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a fondness in it.

“Naturally, security came to try and calm the situation.”

“And then they brought you here?”

“No, they attempted to calm me down”, Logan snickered, “But, one of them put a hand on my shoulder rather rudely. So I bit them-” “YOU BIT ‘EM!?”, if Logan could bottle the light that radiated from Remus there and then, he would have, his own smile growing while his soulmate’s grin threatened to tear through his cheeks, “Logan, mi alma, you’re insane! I love it!”

“Mi alma?”, Logan queried, his cheeks losing the great blush war as his face radiated a nice rosy crimson.

“Oh, right!”, Remus explained, “It means ‘my soul’, it’s what people call their boyfriends ‘n’ stuff back home. I figured since you’re my soulmate, it makes sense to call you that!”

For a moment, Remus faltered, “Uh…. if you don’t mind I guess? It’s whatever, I’ll stop if you hate it-”

“No, no, I rather appreciate the sentiment,” , Logan awkwardly smiled back at Remus, “Mi alma?”

The wilder of the two threw his head back in a roar laughter, “Man, your pronunciation sucks! And that’s an easy one!“, he teased as he shuffled his beanbag closer to Logan’s and continued with a wild smile, “Looks like I gotta stay with you for sure now and make sure you get it right! You’re stuck with me, Nerdy Wolverine!”

It would be hard work convincing his father to let him move schools to be with Remus, Logan knew that. Despite the fact his father adored love in all forms and regarded the bond of soulmates as sacred, Logan knew it’d logically be a hard sell to ask his father to not only pull him out of an expensive academy, but also to have him possibly move home or make a rather lengthy commute. 

But as Remus’ had met Logan’s, the latter found himself locking fingers with his wild soulmate, banishing that thought while they still had time together. Whether it would work out right away, after a couple of months, or even over the course of a few years, they’d make it work.

“Falsehood,”, Logan smirked, “I believe it’s you that’s stuck with me.”

-----------

Okay, this one’s the cutest thing hands down. I’m so proud of this one! As a tidbit, I had it in mind that their single fathers were Janus for the twins and Patton for Logan. 

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses

[herstarburststories]

P and C

A/N: My piece for @jensengirl83‘s 200 Followers Challenge. Congrats again, hon!

Prompt: Oops, how did that get in there?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean feels betrayed-- how could you bring the enemy home?

Warnings: implied smut, Dean being that dramatic dumbass we love

‘’I’m here with a bunch of food that will end up killing you…’’ You wore a large, worriless grin as you walked up the bunker's stairs, gesturing to Sam while you spoke, ‘’And some healthy stuff for you. Please, share with the rabbits.’’

Sam scoffed humorously, discrete mirth on his lips. Dean made his way to the kitchen, abandoning the reading work for the newest case to regain some stamina through food. You started to put the groceries away, humming one of your favorite Eric Clapton melodies. Traditional, domestic duties were properly wasted whenever you had the free time — a luxury to you when boredom was especially rare for a hunter.

‘’You are a lifesaver,” Dean stated, gaining a giggle in response. He rubbed his hands together, multiple bags opened in search of the pie which you promised to buy only to stop two seconds after. ‘’Cocaine.’’

You nodded, not bothering to look up after his right guess. Whatever song you sang, Dean always knew. A nerd for classic rock.  ‘’Good shot, cowboy.’’ 

“Just don't shoot the deputy.”

“Please, I shot the sheriff!”

The eldest Winchester chuckled, continuing his mission to find his favorite meal before burgers. Dean already had the ideal scenario in mind; a whole pie for himself — an apple one if he was lucky —, beer, and a Doctor Sexy marathon.

The Winchester's perfect illusion was cracked by the sight of a certain dessert. He was beyond choked by what could be found in his hands. Horrified, even. You, his own girlfriend, brought a cake into his home.

‘’Y/N, what is this?’’ Dean furrowed his eyebrows, opening the plastic seal of the dessert.

You weren’t sure why he was asking. Last time you checked, his secret sweet tooth liked chocolate. Besides, he didn't appear to be drunk. Your reply came out more like a question than anything else: ‘’A cake?’’

His eyes went wide. ‘’The one who shouldn’t be named!’’

‘’Harry Potter? And you said it was a nerd movie.’’ Sam raised his gaze from the book, watching the scene unfold from the security of the research table. His brother just rolled his eyes at him, too appalled by your crime to give Sammy a witty comeback.

You sighed. ‘’Dean, don’t be dramatic. I’ve seen you eating cake before. We even shared a sli — “

‘’It was a cheesecake, Y/N,’’ Dean interrupted before Sam could catch up on what you said, a flash of pink on his cheeks. You betrayed him enough with the cake instead. The hunter didn't need his little brother making fun of him because you both shared a slice of cheesecake once. Nonetheless, he continued, ‘’There is a huge difference.’’

Dear Chuck, you were about to punch him.

‘’You are right. Cake is better than cheesecake and pie.’’ In the moment the words leave your mouth, you know that Dean will make a big deal out of it. His list of priorities included Sam, you, Cass, the Impala and pie. It was very often in that order, except your position and Sam’s shifted depending on the day. 

But the look on his face was priceless. With his mouth dropped into a silent 'o' and stout shoulders raised, his green eyes clamped onto yours as if he was accusing you of murder.

Thing is, you had killed before. Everyone in that room had their share of deaths, usually in front of and for each other, and never glared at each other like Dean was. The Winchester felt betrayed by the love of his life.

He was in love with someone who liked cake better than pie.

‘’You gotta be kidding me.’’ Dean huffed, shaking his head in disbelief. How could the love of his life say things like that? An accidental gunshot of yours would hurt less; he should know that.

You shrugged. ‘’Cake is fluffier. And softer.’’

‘’Since when is this a good thing? We are talking about food, not a bed." He gesticulated his point with shaking fists, obviously exasperated. You had to bite your cheek inside to contain your laughter. "Pie is more consistent!’’

‘’It's a classy taste, Dean. Besides, cake has frosting!’’

‘’Pie doesn’t need frosting!’’

‘’Guys...’’ Sam tried to interject, but neither of you turned away.

“Cake is so good that there are a lot of kinds: cheesecake, cupcake. What other type of pie is popular other than the usual one?”

“A classic is a classic. It is still consumed all over the world without the fancy stuff. Like a real meal.”

‘’All I hear is old.” Dean gave you an indignant glare, but you keep going anyway, “Cake always has better chocolate than pie.’’

‘’Because pie goes good with fruits and any other flavor, and cake is only good with chocolate.’’

You crossed your arms, a cocky smile filling out your features. ‘’So, you admit that cake is good?’’

‘’You know what? We don’t we find out which one is better now?’’ Dean's suggestion was wrapped up in a daring veil, his true intention proven once he opened the plastic container only to grab a piece of cake and carefully smash it against your cheek. ‘’How does it taste, sweetheart?’’

You had two options: be mad at him or play his game and win.

As Dean wore that lopsided, signature grin while slowly rubbing the cake against your face, the decision was made for you.

‘’What is a good cake without some whipped cream, huh?’’ You smirked, grabbing the whipped cream bottle and spraying on him. With a mask of faux innocence, you asked, “Oops, how did that get in there?’’

Sam finally got up from the chair, slamming a book of Brazilian spells closed as he stalked towards the both of you. ‘’You two, enough! You are acting like children, not two adults in a serious, mature relationship. You’ll end up enacting your weird kinks and leaving the mess for me to clean up, so cut it!’’

Everything is immediately engulfed by silence as Sam's steps making their way to his room along with his huffs. You and Dean looked at each other, shame and guilt spread across on your faces as if your dad had caught you stealing cookies before dinner. 

But it was Y/N /Y/L/N and Dean Winchester. Of course they burst into peals of laughter not even ten seconds after Sammy was gone. The younger Winchester could still hear the noise from the kitchen. He shook his head; you and Dean really were made for each other.

“I feel like I just got grounded by my mom.”

“Yeah, Sammy and his hair. Definitely maternal figure material right there.” Dean rolled his eyes and you chuckled. “You know, he isn't wrong about something.”

Arching your brows, your curiosity followed the green eyed hunter’s mischievous smirk. “What is it?”

He got a bit of whipped cream on his finger, wiping it on your cheek. God, you already knew where your 24/7 let's get to it boyfriend was going.

“We do have a few little kinks here and there.” Dean leaned in and licked the cream from your cheek.

“Ew, you weirdo!” You chuckled, slapping his chest playfully. “But this whipped cream could be useful...” You held the cake container, gaze drifting from it to Dean before gesturing to your pussy with the bottle. “Have your cake and eat it too, yeah?”

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, tongue pushing against his teeth as he grabbed your waist to pull you closer. “Pie and Cake. P and C. I like where this is going.”

“But first! Let's clean it up, okay?” With a quick peck on the tip of his nose, you pulled away. Dean groaned, but impatience was replaced by a silent contentment that spread through him. After all, the award would be totally worth it.

Precisely one minute passed peacefully: Dean cleaning up the floor and you keeping the groceries until you felt the little devil on your shoulder tickled you teasingly. You decided to play with fire a little more. What could happen?

‘’Hey, Dean.” You got a hmm mumble as response — a surefire signal for you to continue. “A birthday, we celebrate that with pie or cake?’’

Round two, here they go.

Feedback is magic! Leave a comment and reblog. Check my Masterlist. 

Dean's Sweetheart: @akshi8278 (DEAN’S TAGLIST OPEN)

Hunter: @demonhunterbarbie​ (SPN TAGLIST OPEN)

[secretly-tword-obsessed]

Minor Detail

Hello Giggly Messes!

This is my first fanfic in a while and it is dedicated to @hamiltrash5194 !

I promise that more are in store xx.

Fandom: Riverdale

Summary: Archie notices a small detail in Jughead’s writing

Also, happy 2021! Please give feedback (:

Jughead was weird. He was a weirdo. He didn’t fit in, and he didn’t wanna fit in.

Archie, on the other hand, was a jock. He surrounded himself with people, playing sports and getting out on the field. It seemed almost impossible that those two had become unlikely friends.

That afternoon, both of their girlfriends were at Cheryl and Toni’s place for a girls day, so the two boys decided to hang out. They played X-Box for a while, but there was only so long Jughead could go without writing, so he flicked the game off in favour of dashing to his laptop. Archie didn’t really mind, he just sat next to Jughead as he wrote, reading over his shoulder. And boy, was it intruiging.

“Is this a true story?”, Archie asked.

“Yes”, Jughead replied absent-mindedly, in the zone.

“Wow”, Archie remarked, “You and Betty sure have had a lot of interesting experiences together”.

Jug looked up from his laptop, “And you and Veronica haven’t?”

Archie chuckled, “We sure have, I just don’t have the talents to record them like you do. How do you remember all those details?”

“Practice”, Jughead said, typing away, “Practice”.

The two of them grinned, not being able to contain their joy. It was nice being together like this, even if Jughead was engaged in something else.

Betty and I approached a cave, both of us puffed from hiking for so long. It stood above us, towering over us, but the entrance still seemed inviting. It was like one of those caves from children's story books. I ran forward to get inside, but Betty pulled me back. “Come on Jug, no time for mucking around, we have a mystery to solve”. I rolled my eyes, making Betty poke one of my lower ribs aggressively. I jumped, squeaked and chuckled. Betty rolled her eyes at me fondly, “Oh, Jug”.

Archie snickered at that, “What is it Jug, you ticklish?”

Jughead blushed, “A little”.

“A little?”, Archie said, raising an eyebrow in mischief.

“Wait, no A-harchie!”

Archie had started squeezing the sides of Jughead’s stomach, causing him to abandon his work and collapse into a pile of laughter.

“A-ha-harch! Nohoho!”

Archie just grinned at him and stopped, “Wow, you might be one of the most ticklish people Iv’e ever met”.

“Shut up”, Jughead said, looking back to his laptop.

He continued typing as if nothing had happened.

“Um, Jughead?”

“Yes?”

“Are you publishing this?”

Jughead twisted around in his chair, “I’m planning to. Why?”

“Well, you do understand that everyone who reads that paragraph is going to know you're ticklish, right?”

Jughead blushed again, “I-uh, I hadn’t considered it”.

Archie laughed, “I’m sure you have, why else did you include that detail?”.

“I include every detail”.

Archie smiled, telling that his friend was getting flustered, “Sure man, like you couldn’t easily stop the whole town from knowing you're ticklish by deleting one sentence”.

There was silence for a moment, before a revelation crossed Archie, making him smile mischievously.

“You want everyone to know you're ticklish!”

“What?!”, Jughead said, shaking a bit but trying to sound affirmative.

“You like being tickled, don’t you?”

Jughead looked at Archie’s smug face, “I, I do not!”, he said, all too defensively.

Archie just shook his head fondly, “Nothing to be ashamed of Jug, I know you didn’t get much affection as a kid. If I were in your place, I’d love a few tickles too”, Archie teased, leaning over to wiggle his fingers up Jughead’s sides.

Jughead giggled and shook away, his cheeks as red as ever. 

“Wait”, Jughead said, standing up, “Your also ticklish?”

“Nah”, Archie said, “Well, a little, but I don’t have much of a reaction. You, on the other hand”.

Archie wiggled his fingers at Jughead, making him squeal and run across the house. Archie chuckled before bounding after him.

Jughead ran into Archie’s bedroom. Shit, a dead end. Archie smiled deviously at him. 

“Why would you even bother to try outrun me Jug, I’m athletic”.

Jughead looked for a way to stall, “And I’m not?”

Archie smiled wider, “Your more of an intellect”.

Jughead just went for it, trying to dash past Archie. But Archie was to quick, and pulled Jughead onto his bed and began ticking his belly.

“Nohoho!”, he cried, “Ahaharchie!”

“What?”, Archie asked innocently, before giving his neck a try. With a loud shriek, Jughead pulled his shoulders up to his neck.

“NOHOHO SHIHIHIT NOHOHOT THEHEHEHRE!”

Archie chuckled, “Ohh, good spot?”

“SHUT UHUHUHUP!”

This continued for a while, Archie tickling Jughead as he laughed his face off. This was so nice, just hanging out as buddies. And even though he’s never admit it, not even in a story, Jughead was having fun too. He laughed and laughed freely, enjoying every second he spent with his best friend. He laughed so loud in fact, that neither of them noticed Betty and Veronica standing by the doorway.

“Mh-hm”.

Archie turned around to see Ronnie looking at her. He blushed and clumsily jumped off Jughead. As soon as Jughead saw the two girls, he practically melted into the bed.

“What are you doing he-”

“Hangout finished early”, Veronica said, “What I’m more interested in is what you're doing to this poor man Archikins”. She wrapped his arms around Archie’s neck and they kissed. 

“Jug?”, Betty said, her face glowing with joy and her heart melting at her flustered boyfriend, “Did Archie find out how ticklish you are?”

Veronica and Archie stopped and turned to Jughead, who just fumbled with his jeans. 

“Yeah”, Archie said, “You do have a ticklish one, Betty”.

“So do I”, Veronica remarked cheekily. 

“Wait, what?”

Veronica started tickling his torso, making him collapse into giggles just like Jughead had.

Jughead’s eyes widened, “You lied to me!”

And soon a tickle fight broke out between the boys. The girls didn’t mind, and the boys didn’t either.

[prettybuckybaby]

you'll keep on rising until the sky knows your name

Peter is a single father and the avengers find out.

part two of single parent peter parker

masterlist

read on ao3 here

She knows it’s only a week, and that Peter is perfectly capable of looking after himself and Leia, has been since he was fourteen and she was a newborn, but a week can be a long time. That’s the excuse she uses when she calls Tony, asking if he would be okay with them both staying at the tower for as long as she is working across the state. She’s grateful when Tony agrees immediately. Not that she ever had any doubt that he would; she knows Tony sees her nephew as a son, even if he stutters out a denial every time she teases him about it, and knows that he loves having Peter around the tower, and loves when he gets to spend time with Leia. So, with the opportunity of a whole week with them arises, she has no doubts that Tony would say yes.

Peter is in the middle of giving Leia a bath when Tony calls him. He answers as soon as he gets the bubbles off his hands.

“Pack your shit, kid,” Tony says, not waiting for Peter to say anything when the call connects. “You’re staying with me,” Peter sighs as Leia splashes the water in the tub.

“You’re on speaker, Mr Stark. And,” He scoffs lightly. “Yeah, right,” Tony doesn’t sound apologetic at all when he replies.

“Sorry. Anyway, I’m serious. Aunt Hottie agreed.”

“And what am I meant to do with Leia, Mr Stark? You know, my child, who-”

“Obviously, the invitation is extended to Leia,” Tony cuts him off, and Peter can almost hear the eye roll through the phone. “If I’m being honest, Pete, the invitation was mainly for her, anyway. I want to hang out with my best friend for a week, but I figured I’d be nice and invite her annoying brat of a father as well.” Tony snorts at the offended sound Peter lets out. “I’m very hospitable like that,”

“Gee, thanks Mr Stark. Your generosity astounds me.” He smiles when Leia giggles as he piles bubbles onto her head. “Mr Stark, it’s a super nice offer, but you don’t want a three-year-old running around your fancy tower for a week,”

“Sure, I do. Sucks that I have to have an ungrateful seventeen-year-old as well, but I guess you’re a package deal,” Tony teases, laughing when Peter groans.

“Really, Mr Stark,” Peter tries again. “Really nice offer, but you really don’t want a toddler running through your house, crying and knocking things over and making a mess everywhere.”

“What, more of a mess than you make? Think she’s inherited your ability to make things explode with minimal effort?”

“I’m serious, Mr Stark,”

“So am I! She’s been around here before, kid. What’s the issue?”

“A few hours is a million miles away from a week. I don’t want to impose on you.”

“Hey, Leia,” Peter groans as Tony ignore him and turns his interrogation towards his child instead. “You wanna spend a week with your favourite Uncle Tony, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Leia claps as she answers, causing water and bubbles to splash over the bathroom. Tony laughs over the speaker.

“You heard the lady, Parker.”

“You’re turning my daughter against me, Mr Stark,” Peter groans as he hears Tony’s smirk. He does again when Tony gasps in mock offense.

“I would never! I cannot believe you would accuse me of such a thing. The slander!”

“Uh huh,” Peter replies drily. “C’mon, poppet. Out you get,” He picks Leia up out of the bath, smiling when she squeals slightly, and wraps her in a fluffy towel.

“Pack your shhi…. stuff,” Tony coughs. “Stuff. There will be a car out front in an hour,”

“Nice save. Listen, Mr Stark, are you really sure about this? You know how much stuff a toddler needs for a week? There will be stuff cluttering your entire place,” Tony just laughs again.

“Stop trying to get out of this, kid. Don’t worry about the necessities. I’ve got it covered. Just bring clothes and toys. Although, there’s plenty of those here as well. You know that. Just bring whatever she wants,” Neither of them speak for a few beats, and then Peter sighs.

“Fine. Leia, think about what toys you want to take to Mr Stark’s,”

“Good kid. See you in an hour,” Peter sighs again when the call disconnects.

“C’mon, then. Let’s get you dressed,”

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

It’s almost exactly an hour later that Peter hears the front door of his apartment open. It would have worried him, had he not known how excited Tony was to see Leia. He almost felt bad about trying to get out of staying at the tower, but he can’t shake the feeling that something bad might happen. He knows, better than most kids his age, how unpredictable children can be. Letting one loose in Tony Stark’s house just doesn’t sit right with him, somehow.

“C’mon, Leia,” Tony and Happy hear Peter groan as they walk through the apartment. “It’s raspberry jam! You said you like raspberry jam!” Leia is giggling as she replies.

“Nu uh, Daddy,” Tony lets out a quiet laugh at the defeated sound Peter lets out.

“What do you like, then, trouble?” Tony and Happy stand in the doorway of the kitchen, watching as Leia just smiles sweetly at Peter, shaking her head at every different food Peter names.

“Apples? Cheese? Pizza? Custard? Fish fingers?” Peter watches her, raising an eyebrow softly. “A monkey?” Leia just keeps smiling as she shakes her head again. “You’re not even listening, are you, pumpkin? A monkey is not a food,” He groans again when Leia just smiles at him, the smile on his own face betraying him. He takes half a piece of toast coated in raspberry jam and shoves it in his mouth.

Tony lets his and Happy’s presence be known by laughing loudly. He waltzes into the kitchen, ruffling Peter’s hair, grinning at the scowl that is sent his way. Leia’s face brightens up more when she sees Tony and looks up towards Happy.

“Unc’a Hap!” Happy smiles, small but genuine, and reaches out to let her grab at his hands.

“Good afternoon, Leia. I hope you’re not being a pain for Daddy,” The young girl shakes her head innocently up at Happy.

“Nah. You’re an angel, aren’t you, Leia?” Tony laughs as Peter rolls his eyes. “So, what do you want to eat, kiddo? If you could have anything in the whole world?” The other three in the room watch as Leia thinks for a few moments before she speaks.

“Pick’ on’ons!” Tony snorts and nods as Peter stands up and walks towards the fridge.

“Okay, you funky little weirdo,” Leia giggles as Peter whacks the back of Tony’s head on his way back from the fridge, jar of pickled onions in his hand.

“How many, princess?” Peter opens the jar, nodding and fishing out two when Leia holds up her fingers, placing them on her plate. “Eat up, then,”

“Pickled onions?” Happy asks as Peter puts the jar back in the fridge. Peter nods when he sits back down.

“Not the weirdest thing she likes,” He smiles up at his daughter. “Gotta keep these things stocked, Happy, gotta be prepped for everything. Haven’t I, kid?” Leia grins up at him when she finishes eating.

“Speaking of being prepared, you ready to go?” Tony asks, standing up and walking around the table.

“Sure. You got everything you want Leia?” Peter asks, taking the plate from in front of Leia and washing it quickly in the sink. He looks up when Leia doesn’t reply with more than a gentle hum. Her eyes are closing softly. “You have Bearbear?” She holds up a teddy from tucked up beside her. “Good, good. You can nap on the way, okay?” He smiles softly and nods up at Tony.

“Wonderful, let’s go then. Miss Leia, Mr Bearbear,” Tony bows down, much like someone would to for royalty. “Your carriage awaits,” He puts on a posh voice and picks Leia up, smiling when she tucks herself into his side. He doesn’t wait for Peter as he starts walking out the apartment. On his way through the door, he picks up smaller of the two backpacks sitting there, the one with Leia’s favourite cartoon characters on. Happy follows behind Tony, and Peter follows behind him, slower, picking up the other half piece of toast and holding it in his mouth. He picks up the other backpack as he walks through the door, locking it behind him.

“Took your time, underoos,” Tony says quietly when Peter enters the car a few minutes after him and Happy, swallowing the last of the toast and wiping the crumbs off his face. Leia is still in Tony’s arms, Bearbear tucked under her chin, a blanket wrapped loosely around her.

“Yeah. You sped off with my daughter, remember? Are you sure you don’t have, like, super speed or something?” Tony snorts but doesn’t reply. Leia shifts slightly under the blanket. “You know, all the parenting books I read before she was born? They all said that I should be sleeping when she is. You know, because babies have different circadian rhythms or something. Need to build them up, and that takes time, so parents should-”

“Pretty sure that’s just with newborns, Pete,” Tony rolls his eyes, smiling at the teen. “If you wanna nap just have one, kid. Don’t need to justify it to me,”

“You’re the best, Mr Stark,” Peter sighs as he lies down, resting his head on Tony’s leg. He smiles when Tony runs his fingers through his hair, lulling him to sleep.

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

When Peter wakes up, there’s a pillow under his head, and a little finger poking at his cheek.

“Leia, sweetheart, let your daddy sleep a bit longer,” A voice says quietly, and the fingers stop poking his face. Peter rolls over, not awake properly. A moment later, there are fingers running through his hair again, and he drifts back off.

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

The next time Peter wakes up, he actually wakes up. He’s on the couch in Tony and Pepper’s living room, the lights turned down low and a soft blanket covering him. He sits up slowly, stretching slightly, listening to the voiced coming from the kitchen. A tired smile grows on his face when he hears Leia talking excitedly, telling whoever she is talking to about what she did at play group yesterday. He wraps the blanket around his shoulders, staggering into the kitchen.

“Hi, Daddy!” Leia grins up at Peter from where she is sat upon the countertop when he places a kiss on the top of her head.

“Nice nap, sleeping beauty?” Tony smirks from behind his mug, eyes flickering up to the tangled mess Peter is sure his hair is in.

“Time ‘s’it?” Peter mumbles, leaning his weight against the counter as he opens the fridge, rooting around until he pulls out a bell pepper. Tony grimaces when Peter bites straight into it.

“About half six,” Pepper answers, smiling softly towards Peter. “You looked tired,”

“Daddy needed a nap!” Leia nods seriously as she speaks. “Juice, Mista Stark?” She asks, voice bright and back to normal. Peter smiles at the quick change, taking the blanket from around his own shoulders and wrapping it around hers before bopping her on the nose. He laughs when she scrunches her nose up.

“Pep, have you seen the juice we got?” Tony asks, pulling his head from where it is buried in the cupboard and turning towards his wife with a frown on his face. “It’s not in here,”

“It could be downstairs?” Pepper suggests, beginning to stand up. Peter speaks up before Pepper can continue.

“I’ll go and check,” He just nods when Pepper looks towards him, a question painted on her face. “You finish telling Mr Stark and Miss Potts your story, princess. I’ll be back soon.” He pinches her cheek softly before turning to the adults. “It’s a very good story. Worth the listen,” He smiles as Pepper sits back down and turns expectantly towards Leia, who immediately jumps straight back into the story that Peter interrupted about the ducks she painted.

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

Peter hums softly as he makes his way down a few floors to where the other Avengers live. As soon as the doors of the lift open, the loud sound of the Avengers messing around enters his ears and continues when he walks into the kitchen where they are all gathered. He smiles at the sight.

“Hey, Peter!” Natasha is the first one to notice him, looking up from her carton of takeout food. Before Peter can respond, another voice lets out a laugh.

“So that’s why we haven’t seen Stark all day. You’ve been hogging him!” Peter smiles up innocently at Bucky, shrugging his shoulders as he begins to look through their cupboards. “How long are you here for, Pete?”

“A week or so. Aunt May got asked to work across state, she asked Mr Stark if I could crash here until she’s back,”

“What, May doesn’t trust you on your own now? Scared you’re going to be throwing some wild high school parties every night? Bringing all your, what? Three friends around?” Clint bumps his shoulder teasingly as he fills his glass with water.

“Hey!” Peter says indignantly. He snorts when Clint just raises an eyebrow at him. “Nah. Think she’s scared I’ll get lonely,” He sticks his head out of the third cupboard he’s looking through. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any capri suns up here, have you? Miss Potts said you might,”

“Ah, that makes more sense. We were wondering why we got those. Guessing Tony meant to get them sent up to his floor, right?” Steve asks, standing up and picking the two boxes up off the top of the fridge.

“Yeah. Thanks, Mr Rogers,” Peter smiles and takes the boxes from his arms. He turns his head towards the table when he hears someone laugh.

“Aren’t you getting a bit old for capri suns, mate?” Sam teases, ruffling Peter’s hair when he walks past, laughing again when the teen just scowls at him. “What are you, now? Thirteen?”

“Almost eighteen now, Mr Falcon, Sir,” Peter just smiles innocently over his shoulder when he sees Sam narrow his eyes. “And you’re kidding, right? This is the best juice out there!”

“What time are you out of school tomorrow, Pete?” Natasha calls after him as he walks towards the lift. Peter thinks for a moment.

“Not sure. Depends how long MJ keeps us for decathlon. Which depends on how annoying Flash is being,” He shrugs. “Should be back by five though. Half past, at the latest,”

“Okay,” Nat nods. “Well, we’re having a movie night. Tony and Pepper are joining us. You should come along,” Peter hesitates as FRIDAY opens the doors.

“I’ll see what I feel like when I finish my homework,” Peter steps into the lift, waving a hand over his shoulder when the Avengers call out a range of goodbyes.

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

Peter has a free period last on a Monday afternoon, so he picks Leia up from her play group early before he goes to decathlon practice. When Leia first started going to play group instead of staying with a babysitter all day, Peter felt bad bringing her to practice, scared that his teammates were going to think she was a distraction. The team were quick to accept her though, and now she spent half of the practice finishing her nap, and the other half sitting between her father and her Uncle Ned, answering some of the questions that MJ sneaks in specifically for Leia. The toddler giggle when she gets questions about her favourite books right and the team applauds her. Even Flash, at the practices that Leia attends, is kind enough not to wind Peter up.

Peter loves being part of the decathlon team, but the practices Leia attends are his favourite.

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

When they get back to the tower, Peter and Leia follow their normal routine as much as they can. They spend an hour or so sitting at the kitchen table, Peter doing his homework and Leia colouring in some pictures Peter found of Iron Man. Tony comes in as she finishes colouring the sparkling green high heeled shoes she’s added to his suit. He sits down next to her, talking to her about the additions she’s made to his suit, nodding seriously as she talks. Peter muffles a snort at Tony’s playful scowl when Leia, having been asked about the high heels, says “T’ make you taller, Mista Stark,”. Tony pretends to complain for a few minutes, a smile cracking through when Leia just giggles at his annoyance before he asks her to sign her name on the colouring and pinning it to the fridge. Leia has just about finished colouring in her Spider-man drawing when Peter finishes his homework and asks her what she wants for dinner.

It’s half past eight when Peter joins the other downstairs after bathing Leia and reading her a story, connecting the baby monitor in her room to his phone just in case. Everyone smiles up at him when he enters the room.

“You finish all your homework, honey?” Pepper asks, patting his arm softly as he walks past her.

“Yeah, Miss Potts,” He replies tiredly, using his foot to push Tony’s legs off the couch, grinning when the man groans. He sits down, shuffling around until he’s in a comfortable position, ending up with his legs thrown over Tony’s and his head resting on his shoulder.

“And everything else is okay?” Peter closes his eyes as he waves his phone in his hand. He feels Tony nod against him, and fingers carding through his hair.

He isn’t sure when he fell asleep, but Peter wakes up to his phone buzzing halfway through the second film. He squints from the brightness as he opens his phone, frowning at the image of his sleeping daughter. She’s tossing and thrashing around in her sleep, and even though there’s no sound on the video, he’s almost certain that she’s letting out soft whimpers. He locks his phone and stumbles to his feet, kicking someone who is lying on the floor and nearly falling over.

“You alright, Queens?” Steve asks him, gripping his arm to steady the teenager.

“Yeah. Just gotta…bathroom,” He mumbles out, not looking back as he stumbles across to the lift, jamming the button as he lifts his phone to his ear. Steve is the only one who hears him when he starts talking before being cut off by the doors closing, leaving the super soldier watching the closed doors of the lift, confusion over his face.

“You’re okay, baby. Just a bad-”

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

Peter eventually manages to get Leia back to sleep, tucked into his side in his bed.

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

The next night, Leia won’t go to sleep. She hasn’t slept all day, refused to nap at play group and now, even when her eyes are drooping as Peter rocks her gently in her arms, she refuses to let herself relax fully.

She eventually nods off in his arms, hours later, while Peter has a nature documentary playing quietly in the background.

“She finally go down?” Pepper asks quietly when she comes into the room. Peter glances at her watch as she walks past. It‘s nearly half past three.

“About ten minutes ago,” Peter sighs, whispering back. “Why’re you still up?”

“Had to drag Tony from the lab, just wanted to check on you,” Peter smiled up at Pepper gratefully. “Try and get some sleep, Peter,” She cards her fingers through his hair a few times and kisses his forehead before she makes her way back towards her and Tony’s bedroom.

It’s not even twenty minutes later when Leia starts whimpering in her sleep. She blinks her eyes open when Peter shushes her, peppering featherlight kisses against her forehead.

“Scary sharks again, princess?” Leia nods, burying her head in his shoulder. Peter doesn’t say anything about the tears he feels soaking his t-shirt, just rocks her gently as he stands up and wraps a blanket around her. “Let’s get you some warm milk, yeah? See if that gets you off, hey?” He makes his way into the kitchen, humming softly into Leia’s hair. He groans softly when he picks up the empty milk bottle out of the fridge. “Leia, you know I love Uncle Tony, but sometimes he’s a right pain in my as...butt. We’ll just have to go downstairs, Boo. Little adventure, then we can sleep in Daddy’s room,”

Peter rocks her gently, still humming her a song as he carries her down to the kitchen a few floors down, trying to be as quiet as he can to not wake the two super soldiers with super hearing and the two spies. He thinks he does a pretty successful job when he makes it back up to Tony’s kitchen, bottle of milk in hand, and no avengers awake.

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

“What’s up with you, Barton?” Bucky asks the next morning when Clint is just staring at the wall in the kitchen. “You’ve barely said a word all morning,”

“Have you noticed anything weird about Peter?” He asks immediately, looking down at his mug of now cold coffee.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know how sometimes I sleep in the vents? Well, I was last night, and I woke up when someone came into the kitchen. It was Peter,”

“That’s not really weird, Clint. Kid probably couldn't sleep. He’s allowed to come down here,” Steve points out as he sits down next to Bucky.

“Well. No, I guess not. But he had something in his arms. And then he stole our milk. And he was like, singing or something. Generally being a bit weird,”

“What was he holding?” Clint shrugs one of his shoulders.

“I don’t know. It was dark. It looked like a pile of blankets. Weird,” He insists. “That’s why I’m asking if anyone else has seen him being weird,”

“Stevie, you said he was being weird last night, right?” Bucky offers, turning towards Steve.

“I didn’t say he was being weird. I said I heard something weird,” The whole room turns to look at Steve, waiting for him to elaborate. “It’s nothing. Just when he was leaving, I heard him on the phone. Called someone ‘baby’ and said something about something bad. The doors closed before I heard anything else,”

“You’re looking too much into things,” Bruce sighs, standing up. “Peter is a bit weird sometimes. He spends too much time with Tony not to be. God knows Tony’s done a lot weirder things when he hasn’t slept in a while,”

Clint shares a look with Steve. Neither of them believe this.

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

On Thursday, Peter joins the other avengers for training. Normally, on a Thursday afternoon, Leia spends some time with May while Peter trains. However, with May out of town, and Rhodey in town, Tony volunteers his best friend for babysitting. Not that Rhodey takes much convincing; like everybody else who knows about Leia, he loves spending time with her, although he doesn’t get much of an opportunity with how often he is in the area. So, Leia is with Rhodey, Pepper is in a meeting, Tony is tinkering with Bucky’s arm in the corner of the training room, and Peter is sparring with Natasha and Steve when everything, as Peter knew it would, goes wrong.

Bruce jumps when the alarm starts blaring, red lights flashing through the room.

“What’s going on, FRI?” Tony barely glances up from the metal arm in his grip, not alarmed by the sudden noise.

“Colonel Rhodes has initiated lockdown procedure, Boss,” FRIDAY’s voice is as neutral as it normally is, the AI not capable of feeling the rush of panic that suddenly fills Peter.

“Wh…What?” He asks, his head snapping up towards Tony. The older man drops the screwdriver he is holding, about to start shouting when Rhodey comes into the training room and heads straight towards Peter.

“Peter! Peter. I need you not to panic,” He grips both of Peter’s arms in his hands, holding him still, forcing him to look into his eyes. “Okay. You’re definitely panicking,” Rhodey says, his own voice miles away steady.

“What happened, Rhodey?” Tony asks, coming up to the other two. He places a hand on Peter’s shoulder, hoping to calm him down. “Where is she?”

“I don’t…I don’t know,”

“You don’t know?” Peter’s voice is quiet, a mixture of angry and terrified. “What the hell do you mean you don’t know?”

“We were playing hide and seek. I’ve looked all over the floor we were on, I’ve gone through my floor, I’ve gone through their floor. I don’t know where she’s gone. But she’s got to still be in the building, Peter,”

“I swear to God, Rhodes,” Peter spits the name out, pushing Rhodey away and storming towards the door. “If anything has happened to her, I will skin you alive,” Rhodey swallows as he watches the door slam behind Peter, turning towards Tony, worry filling his eyes.

“It’ll be fine, platypus. She'll be fine,” Tony’s smile is a bit forced, but Rhodey relaxes minutely at the sight anyway. Tony turns towards the others, all of whom are watching the scene in silence, different shades of confusion colouring their faces. “Okay, guys. We’re looking for a small child, Leia. She has blonde hair, blue eyes, last seen wearing-”

“Spider-man pyjamas,” Rhodey cuts in before almost sprinting out of the door.

“And who is-”

“Not important right now, Steve,” Tony growls. “Find the kid, and when you do, let Peter know. Straight away,” He doesn’t wait for a response before he leaves the room, leaving the remaining Avengers looking at each other.

It turns out they don’t have to look for very long, only searching for fifteen minutes before FRIDAY turns off the alarms and announces that the lockdown procedure has been disabled. Tony sends a text out telling them that Leia was found in one of the intern labs, and thanks them for their help looking. They make their way up towards the intern labs, all of them stopping in their tracks when they see Peter.

The teenager is sobbing quietly as he hugs a child in his arms, sitting against a wall. His eyes are closed but there are tear tracks running down his pale face, his hands running through the child’s, Leia’s, hair, mumbling into her shoulder between sobs.

“Never again,” He is saying, just loud enough for everyone in the room, only his teammates now that Tony has ushered all the interns out, to hear him. “I was so scared. So scared,”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Leia replies, voice muffled and breaking. They watch as Tony moves over to the kids, helping Peter stand up and move towards the lift.

“I’ll follow you up, kid,” He sighs as Peter hugs the child closer, eyes still shut and body shaking. The doors close, and Tony sighs, before turning back towards the others.

“What-”

“You’ve got to let him explain,” Tony cuts in immediately. “Come upstairs. He’ll come out when he’s ready,”

They all go up to Tony and Pepper’s floor. Peter and Leia are nowhere to be seen, but Rhodey and Pepper are talking quietly in the kitchen.

“Are you alright, honeybear?” Tony asks, slapping the other man on the shoulder. The others file into the room, taking seats around the table.

“A damn sight better than Pete, that’s for sure,” Pepper places a steaming mug in front of Rhodey, and the man smiles gratefully at her.

“You know he doesn’t blame you. He was just scared,”

They talk quietly between themselves for almost two hours, before they hear Peter coming out of his room. When he comes into the room, nobody mentions how his face is blotchy and his eyes bloodshot. His jumper sleeves are too long and are covering his hands, one of which is gripping a baby monitor.

“How is she, kid?” Tony asks quietly, pulling a bottle of Peter’s favourite obscenely sugary drink out of the fridge and handing it to him.

“Asleep,” Peter mumbles, taking the drink from Tony with a grateful smile and drinking the whole thing in one.

“She’s alright, Peter. Everything’s okay,” Tony pulls Peter in close, letting his kid cry into his chest for as long as he needs. Peter pulls away after a few minutes, apologising for the wet mark he’s left on Tony’s shirt. “No, Peter. You don’t need to apologise.” Pepper comes over to them, taking the empty bottle out of Peter’s hand and replacing it with a full one, which he sips on slower than the last. Tony sighs when Peter’s eyes glance over to the other people filling their kitchen. “They saw you with her. To be honest, I think a few of them were getting suspicious anyway,” Peter sighs and walks and sits in the empty seat next to Bucky, placing a forgiving hand on Rhodey’s elbow and sending him a watery smile on his way past. There’s an awkward silence that fills the room. Peter clears his throat.

“So,”

“So,” Clint is the one to break first, watching Peter carefully. “A kid, huh,” Peter laughs softly.

“Yeah,” He smiles. “Leia,”

“How old is she?” Nat asks him, offering him a small smile.

“She’s uh, three,”

They keep asking questions about Leia, Peter talking with a smile on his face the whole time. It only falters when Bruce asks about the mother. Tony, Peter thinks absently when the man cuts in and stops that line of interrogation with a cough and a sharp look, is the best dad.

“Go and get some sleep, kid,” He says softly. It’s a testament to just how tired Peter is that he doesn’t even try to deny it. He just smiles up at Tony and pushes himself up, mumbling a quick ‘goodnight’ as he walks out the room. Nobody notices that Peter has left behind the baby monitor until a voice comes through, quiet but still clear.

“Love you, ‘Addy,”

“I love you more, Princess.”

[loyally-unfaithful]

pairing: rengoku kyojuro x gn!reader

genre: fluff

a/n: henlo is me again, i’ve never owned cats and it shows i made this into headcanon format, but if you were looking for something feel free to resend a request c: alrighty hope you like it

edit: i know this is a super long time since this ask was actually sent to me?? and i honestly have no excuses to give. i’m really sorry to whoever sent the request: i was just procrastinating and then covid hit and my motivation plunged even lower. i know this is not much, and it’s probably ooc to all hell but i do hope you like it.

so ok, here’s the premise: you just moved out of your old residence, whether it was a flat or a house—you’re outta there! you is gone !

and ur friend or flatmate had a litter of cats and u just couldn't help urself but adopt one. they were just that cute.

so u did.

got that bad boi for free too, what a bargain!

and anyway u love that bastard with all ur heart.

it's just a bastard but she’s your bastard so it's all good.

very adorable dainty catto, and you took her to the vets to get her checked up, vaccinated, dewormed, and all that good stuff to make sure she will have a long and healthy lifespan.

u recall that u need to bring her in within 6 months to get her spayed so that there wouldn’t be an accidental litter. the operation is postponed since rn she’s too small, and ur like.

ok, i'll see u in 6 months.

that was 3 months ago.

now u moved out into a new apartment, with ur precious catto in tow.

after u finished bringing in all your boxes and furnitures and such, you thought to yourself, “hey, why not start this new chapter in life with a good start by acquainting myself with my neighbours”.

and that's exactly what u did: u gathered like, a packet of strawberries, and went over to the flat directly in front of urs while rehearsing what you will say in your head.

as you reached the other side and pressed the doorbell, you wondered who lived behind those doors…

first you’ll introduce yourself by name.

maybe it was a married couple? maybe even with a family?

and after that, you’ll tell them that you just recently moved in.

or perhaps it would be some elderly gentleman or lady?

and then, you will hand the gifts over and express that you hoped that the two of you will get along—something like that.

worst case scenario, the person is some weirdo… you hoped not…

the door finally opens with a click and you begin to recite what you had practiced:

« hey my name is... » your voice tapers off as you fully took in the person greeting you.

your voice disappears, meeting someone you absolutely did not expect. out of all the possibilities, you did not think for a moment that your neighbour would be the handsome young man with piercing golden eyes, lustrous locks of bright yellow hair, and an even brighter smile, standing before you.

were you staring? you were staring weren’t you? you realised in embarrassment that you were staring at the man, who was probably confused to all hell as to why you appeared on his front doors.

fighting your urge to combust and run away, you introduced yourself following the script you made up (though with more stutters than originally intended) and brusquely handed the berries over.

he happily takes your gift, repeating your name, assuring you that he was listening. it’s so stupid, but the way he says your name makes your stomach do flips. « well, welcome! he says enthusiastically. i’m rengoku kyojuro! i hope you enjoy it here! »

and that was that.

you mechanically went back to your flat, face burning and nervousness still clawing at you.

you’d say that you got adjusted to this new life pretty quickly. you seldom visited kyojuro as you were too embarrassed to pop by and chit-chat as often as you would’ve preferred to—dreading the thought of crossing him on your way to your own flat whenever you went home—but otherwise everything had been good.

alas, your cat was now 5 months old and oh boy.

something tells you your cat was entering its heat cycle or something—you were a first time cat-owner, but you had an inkling.

if your cat’s sudden affectionate, or over-affectionate, streak and unexpected attention seeking behaviour was anything to go by. she would roll on the floor, rub herself all over you and leave fluff all over your clothes, and yells.

she screm!

most stressful of all was how she absolutely wanted to escape to the outside, but you were not having it. you did not want kittens. one cat is enough thank you.

but nope, your wishes were in vain as one day, she just fucking disappeared—god knows where she is , she’s just somewhere.

understandably, you lost your shit and panicked because holy hell your cat escaped!!!

you went around to look for her, with no luck, and you were absolutely heartbroken.

that was until like??? 2 months later and you went to open a drawer to get some socks and lo and behold!

A CAT

and not just any cat! your cat! AND NOT JUST YOUR CAT! but also a bunch of other smaller cats, also known as kittens!

at this point, you weren’t even upset at the thought that you fucked up and ended up having kittens—you were just happy your cat is back and alive and well and back home. who knows how she entered back into the house.

who cares??

your cat is back!!

you’ll just have to spay her once she’s done nursing.

but as you watched over the litter, which looked like your cat but also another cat, you began to see a resemblance between their orange fur and caprisun, kyojuro’s ginger maine coon!!

and now everything makes sense…  

body working on autopilot, both because of how tired you were after watching over the cats and also because you were still dissociating from the realisation, you stiffly made your way to your neighbour and ringed the doorbell… ignoring the fact that this was now 2 in the morning.

you had to tell him, or confirm or do something with this new knowledge. his sleep can wait.

surprisingly, he answered the door without you having to ring him a second time. unsurprisingly, he looked tired and was ???? at you summoning him at such an odd time in the evening.

« i know that we don’t really talk, you started. but i need to show you something: i think your cat might have gotten my cat pregnant?? »

that caught the blond’s attention enough to wash the grogginess away from his face, and he followed you back to your flat.

normally the idea that a stranger, a good looking stranger no less, was going into your flat would fluster you, but right now you were a man with a plan, you had something to do and that was to show kyojuro the litter of cats.

he was surprised when he saw them, but confirmed that you were probably right, and that his male cat had probably gotten to your cat during her disappearance.

at this point you were a little bit (a lot) overwhelmed by the responsibility that came along with being a parent (and a grandparent), so you were about to ask him to help you coparent for the little buggers.

but he suggested it before you had the chance to, taking initiative:

« then! he expressed emphatically. we must raise this little kitty family together! kyojuro declared. »

and thus began your misadventures together as cat parents.

even though you both had work and a multitude of other things to do during the day (kyojuro still has his own cat to take care of, for that matter), you made it work—perhaps through sheer stubbornness and desire to make things right.

if anything, this whole ordeal cemented the fact that you were officially put off from having real children: if taking care of kittens was this demanding, imagine a whole actual human baby.

no way, no thanks.

you’re good.

hard pass.

funnily enough, after taking turns to take care of the cats and after the shifts to watch over them, you two had become fast friends. despite your reluctance with meeting him again after your disastrous greeting, you found yourself being very comfortable being in his presence and getting used to having him over in your flat (for the cats, of course).

but you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy spending time with kyojuro, conversing with him and learning more about each other as you both opened up to one another.

it was when he beamed at a joke you made, wearing his signature exuberant smile and laughing a laugh that you found so adorable, that you realised that you were in too deep. that you were definitely catching feels.

sometimes, you wished that you two would’ve been more than just friends. you wince at the thought that the two of you drift apart after this whole mess was over. but you pushed that inevitability away from your mind.

for the most part, nothing noteworthy ever happened as you took care of the kittens as the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm.

one day, while you were both taking care of the cats, his exhaustion got the best of him and kyojuro fell asleep. you found him dozing off on the couch when you walked in, and you had to stop for a moment and tiptoe in the piece because of how peaceful he looked as he was resting. it was incredible how impeccable he looked, awake or asleep.

secretly, you took a picture, capturing this moment forever. he looks adorable. you’ll probably show the image later and tell him that he can take it easy for a while seeing as he was worn out and that you just received a few days off.

speaking of sleeping on duty, you’ve caught yourself passing out once or twice (ok a few times, more than just once or twice), but the weirdest part of all was that you would always wake up on your bed instead of wherever you fell asleep.

butterflies would go feral in ur stomach at the implication that kyojuro had been carrying your sleeping form to your bedroom.

but that was what has been happening right?

you think that at some point, you had fallen asleep on kyojuro… but to save yourself from the embarrassment, you chalk that up to your imagination running wild or a dream.

a few months into this ordeal, he pulled you over to another room to talk privately to you (ignoring the fact that there wasn’t anyone else in your apartment except for the cats).

he seemed to carry himself with a hesitance or shyness that was never there, and you found yourself dreading what he was about to tell you. what kind of bomb was he about to drop on you?

before starting, he paused for a moment, resolute… or was that a look of determination in his eyes? you didn’t know what to expect and it made you worried.

« i have something i need to tell you, convey to you! he started, confidence not lost in his voice. there is a burning passion in my heart, and it was about time that i listened to it! i know we’ve only met just recently, but after our time together i realised that i have feelings for you! he uttered your name again, with such gentleness and softness that it made your heart tighten. i like you! »

« i like you too!! you responded quickly, too quickly. you winced at how loud you unintentionally were, but he didn't seem to pay attention. »

instead, a radiant smile graced his features as he realised that you shared the same sentiment. and the same smile spread on your face, happy that he returned your feelings.

slowly, he moved closer to you and like a magnet, you mirrored him.

perhaps a bit hesitant, you could feel the ghost of a kiss over your lips as he leaned towards you, inching ever closer to each other.

but as your lips were about to connect, you hear crying from the other room…

the cats!

you two jerked away from each other, alerted by the sound, before looking back at each other, dumbfounded.

after what felt like an eternity but also an instant, a chuckle escaped you as you began to laugh uncontrollably—overwhelmed by giddiness and the sheer absurdity of this entire situation—and the blond followed suit, laughing along with you.

as you calmed down, your eyes found each other and the two of you just smiled.

the both of you wore brilliant smiles, and you were floored by the tenderness he held for you.

you look like a mess.

and he looks like a mess.

and you're both tired beyond belief.

but you’re both really happy.

and really happy to have each other.

(and your cats of course).

you’ll have to thank your cat later for helping you meet this wonderful person.

LIKE MY WORK? CONSIDER BUYING ME A COFFEE // CHECKING OUT MY MASTERLIST | LINKS CAN BE FOUND ON MY DESC

[thestyleswritings]

Sweet Tooth

"So, why is it you're here?" You ask the brunette casually after taking a breath. Trying to play it cool by leaning back in your seat, nearly tipping yourself off of it. Luckily for you, the boy seems to have good reflexes, catching your arm before you could embarrass yourself further.

"Careful there, love. You'll hurt yourself." He says in a raspy baritone voice, steadying you before continuing, "I'm here because I've got a sweet tooth that can sometimes get me into trouble."

Or - The one where you meet Harry at the dentist’s office and things get sticky.

(4.3K) 

Warnings: Language, Smut

"You know you have to go to the dentist eventually, right?" Your friend Maggie chastises, fully aware of how truly dental-phobic you are and have always been.

 "I understand... But what if I just floss really well? Do I still have to go? Surely it cancels out." You try to negotiate with her, even though you know you'll just end up in the chair either way.

 "You're ridiculous, you know. Your appointment is at 4 and you'll be there whether you like it or not." Maggie rolls her eyes at you, turning her attention back to the flatscreen adorning the wall in her living room.

 "Think of it this way," she starts, sipping the iced coffee she had all but forgotten about, "the hygienist might be really hot."

 "Yeah, the 50-year-old woman that cleans my teeth is a dime." You snort, gathering your coat and bag before standing.

 "Anyways, I'd better be off. Wouldn't want to be late to my execution." You say over your shoulder, already halfway to the door. You only hear a scoff, but you assume if you turned to face your friend, you would've seen her roll her eyes at your dramatic tendencies.

—

 The train ride to the dentist's office did not take nearly as long as you'd hoped it would, leaving you with 30 minutes to spare before 4 came around. You saw this as either an opportunity to go window shopping very quickly or to sit in the waiting room to try and get comfortable with the atmosphere. You knew it was a bit ridiculous to be afraid to go to the dentist alone at the age of 21, but it was a legitimate fear for you! You'd been knicked as a child one too many times and it stuck with you ever since.

 By the time you decided to go upstairs, the waiting room was full of children, adults and elderly people. You didn't even know where to start looking for a seat. Your eyes scanned for a seat that wasn't directly next to someone, especially not the mum with vomit on the shoulder of her shirt, but alas there was no such luck. The only seat that semi appealed to you was directly next to a young man with messy brown hair - probably not far off your age - and he was so handsome, it made you nervous. He wore tan corduroy pants that were almost reminiscent of bellbottoms, a baby blue and white pinstriped button-up with the sleeves about a quarter of the way rolled up beneath a navy coloured cotton sweater vest that had what appeared to be sheep laced on the torso. The coat you assumed he wore here was shoved between himself and the armrest, one long sleeve perched on the chair aside him. He wore glasses low on the bridge of his nose, legs crossed and brows furrowed as he read, idle hand resting atop one of his black Vans. You squinted to see the cover of the book, seeing that it was Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami, one of your favourites. You wonder if it's also one of his, or if he's a first-time reader, but the thought is fleeting; your subconscious prying cut off by movement from the subject.

 He could probably feel your gaze on his figure, causing his eyes to snap up from the book perched in his lap to lock directly with your own. It's almost like he could feel how uncomfortable you were, standing off to the side next to the coat rack and magazine table. Almost like he couldn't help himself from asking you to sit down wordlessly by moving his long dark coat from drooping onto the seat beside his very own, then faintly nodding to it.

 You could feel your throat swell as you walked to him, praying to any god willing to listen that you wouldn't trip on your own feet or snag your knee on the coffee table. You were notorious for being a bit clumsy. You noticed, as you got closer, the intensity of his stare. The green of his eyes nearly causing your breath to catch at the back of your throat.

 Taking a seat, you move your canvas bag to your lap before slightly facing him. You didn't know the proper etiquette for things like this. Should you have just ignored him after you sat, or do you carry on with a conversation? You raise your gaze once again to look him in the eyes, and unlike moments earlier, he had already been looking at you. Your bottom lip gets caught beneath your upper front teeth, biting the soft flesh to keep in a gasp. He was truly a specimen up close, and you wanted nothing more at that moment than the ability to freeze time, just to get a longer look at him without being caught.

"So, why is it you're here?" You ask the brunette casually after taking a breath. Trying to play it cool by leaning back in your seat, nearly tipping yourself off of it. Luckily for you, the boy seems to have good reflexes, catching your arm before you could embarrass yourself further.

 "Careful there, love. You'll hurt yourself." He says in a raspy baritone voice, steadying you before continuing, "I'm here because I've got a sweet tooth that can sometimes get me into trouble."

 He must know how that sounded.

 "I'm uh, I'm just here for a cleaning and some x-rays." You wince at the words that pass your lips, cringing at the thought that soon someone would come and call your name, leading you into that room which has a smell you nary forget.

 The boy laughs, clearly both hearing and seeing your distaste at the thought. You forego being annoyed at his mocking and leap straight to intrigue. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the faint scrunch of his nose, the way his head tilted just the slightest bit backwards. It all pulled you in and refused to let you go.

 "Tha's not too bad, y'know. I have to get one of my teeth drilled into." He says like it's just a minor inconvenience. You can practically feel the blood drain from your face. Drill!? Like a fucking construction site!?

 He laughs again, this time shaking his hair away from his eyes afterwards. "I have a cavity. I told you, the sweet tooth gets me into trouble." He tells you, and you could swear he winked.

 "I thought you were using a pun as a pickup line." You say before you can stop yourself, preparing yourself for him to look back at you like you were some delusional weirdo.

 "It might've had a dual purpose, yeah." He smirks, a deep dimple making itself known on the side of his face. As if he could become more attractive. It almost makes you want to roll your eyes.

 "Alright. So, the book. You enjoying it? It's one of my favourites." You tell him, gesturing towards the book, now closed.

 "Weird way to phrase it. The book is kinda dark, wouldn't you say?" He counters, resting his elbow on his knee before placing his palm on his face. Fully engaging you in conversation now.

 "Hell yeah. But it's so beautifully written and so gripping. Is this your first read?" You wonder aloud.

 "I keep it on rotation. The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion and Marie Kondo's The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up seem to wind up in that rotation too. Sometimes I throw in Love Is A Mixtape from Rob Sheffield if I'm feeling particularly mushy. You?" He tugs his lip in thought, awaiting your reply.

 "I love Marie Kondo. She's the only reason I keep my apartment tidy. I love basically any book, but I keep It's Kind of A Funny Story on my bedside table at all times. I'm drawing a blank right now, but my bookshelf gets proper attention, I swear." You laugh, triggering his own to bubble up from his throat.

 "So wha's your name, sweetheart?" He asks, and you nearly don't tell him. The sound of the nickname falling from his lips is too tempting to ignore.

 "Mhm... You first." You challenge, squinting as if daring him to inquire again before answering you.

 "M'Harry. Friends call me H. You can call me when I get outta here at 5:30 to have coffee at my place." He smiles. You'd usually get up and sit somewhere else, with the puke stained mum for instance, but your legs won't allow it. And why should they? What's the problem with entertaining this pretty, pretty man?

 "I preferred the sweet tooth comment, personally, but I won't prosecute you for that stinker." Playfully tutting before actually telling him your name. He says it under his breath as if testing the way it felt on his tongue before smiling again.

 “Well, I wasn’t joking, I’d actually like to have you over for coffee if you’d like. I promise I’m not a weird pervert. I can even tell my roommate to come home early if it makes you feel better.” Harry fumbled with his words, further endearing you. You snort a laugh at his phrasing before nodding your head.

“You don’t have to call your roommate, I’m sure you’re not a murderer. Anyway, my friend has my location on so she’ll know exactly where to send the cops in the event I turn up missing.” You gest, nudging his forearm with your elbow.

—

 You didn't know how you'd ended up in this situation. In the hour and a half it took for Harry's appointment to be completed, you walked around aimlessly talking to Maggie- or frantically shouting if you asked Maggie- about what steps to take from here. You had actually been so caught up in this whole "date" ordeal that the teeth cleaning breezed by. She snorted a laugh at your obvious hesitation, knowing this wasn't very "you". You weren't usually the type to even accept compliments, but here you were, ready to risk it all for a man you'd met a mere 120 minutes ago.

 "But what if he's a player? What do I do then?" You'd asked, answered yet again with a snort.    "You fuck him and forget it. It happens all the time. It's just a bit of good fun." Maggie reassured you. To her, a casual 6 o'clock shag was nothing out of the ordinary.    Pacing around Fifth Avenue, you awaited a text. A simple "hey" to set your anxieties through the roof. Anything. You just wanted to be out of your misery already.    It wasn't like you'd never done this before, or even that you'd only done it a handful of times, but something about the prospect of hooking up with a boy from your dentist's office felt strange. Did people meet their soul mates this way, or was this really an odd thing? Don't people usually meet in clubs and bars? There's hardly anything sexy about having your teeth scraped and drilled into. Maybe you could spin an innuendo out of that if you tried. The moment your phone buzzed, you couldn't help the squeal that passed your lips.

H 127 W4th Street, Apartment 3F

—

 You'd only gone over for a coffee and a chat, honestly. So how you ended up with Harry's lips attached to your neck, you hadn't the fuzziest clue. If you were being honest, it was more on you than him.

 "So you've got a sweet tooth." You say, smirking from behind the brim of the mug as you watched him take a sip from his own.    "Ah, the rumours are true." He tuts, taking a sip of the black coffee.

 "But your coffee is black, and you didn't put any sugar in it." You point out, deadpan.

 "Doesn't mean I'm not naughty sometimes." He's talking about the sugar, you know he is. But his eyes are telling you he wants to go further into the discussion. Taunting, almost.

 "Prove it."

 So that's how you'd ended up here, really. With your fists scrunching up his baggy striped shirt, both of your breath becoming shallower and shallower as your lips smacked together. He had taken off the vest before you'd arrived, you noticed in your slight haze. His kisses trailed from your lips to your cheek, from your cheek to your jaw, then your neck. Each touch of his wet lips leaving a lingering buzz to your skin. He pulled away from your neck momentarily, breathing heavily before biting onto his own bottom lip.

 "You wanna...?" Harry trailed off, chest rising and falling noticeably, lips shining under his dim room light. You saw his eyes flick towards a door to the left of you both. You could feel your heart drop to your stomach, or rather, beneath your bellybutton. You know the feeling well. At that moment, you decide to throw caution to the wind. Who's to say this wasn't the time to sew your wild oats, so to speak?

 "You asking if I want a shag?" You smirk back at him. He really wasn't as scary as he seemed at first. He actually seemed to be your equal; nervously navigating life with a bit of sarcasm and a dash of wit.

 "You're mad. But yes." Harry laughs in bemusement. Perhaps he had pegged you for shier than you appeared now. Not that he'd complain.

 The two of you stand, Harry quickly grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles before pulling you towards the closed door.

 "I er- obviously wasn't expecting a bird over after the doctors visit, so my rooms in shambles at the moment, sorry." He admits sheepishly. You just raised one shoulder in a shrug in response, giggling at the way his cheeks dusted rosy pink and the way he pronounced the word obviously. Obvioushry.

 Stepping inside, you see that he was massively overexaggerating. There were a few fun coloured tops on the ground in a heap, accompanied by another small pile of trousers and jeans. Clearly, he'd meant to do the washing up when he came home, but not everything always goes according to plan. You certainly didn't expect this either.

 Your thoughts are instantly placed aside as you felt two strong hands on either of your hips and the steady stream of breath upon your neck, soft lips dragging along the surface there. You roll your head to the side to grant him more of a canvas to paint his wet kisses, subtly pushing your behind into him. The groan that vibrates your skin tells you that he felt it. More gracefully than you'd ever be able to manage, your top is removed from your body by the man behind you in a flash.

 "Le's get comfortable, yeah? You'll be here a while." The gruff tone of his voice so near to your ear excites you, sending a shiver down the column of your spine. As you sit on his bed, you raise your gaze to observe him. A tall, gangly thing, but somehow solid and muscular simultaneously. His nimble fingers are quick to undo the buttons of the shirt adorning his torso, revealing intricate artwork penned on his skin. From where you sat, you could see two birds, a butterfly and a birdcage. You wondered what moved him to get these particular pieces.  

"You'll have to excuse me if 'm a bit rubbish, it's been ages," Harry laughs pathetically, capturing his bottom lip once again beneath his endearingly large front teeth. You don't even get a moment to react as he lunges forth, cementing your lips together in a harsh kiss that does little to undo the ball of tension you've felt building since you'd arrived. You feel the weight of his groin pressed against your own, slowly rocking back and forth, side to side. The pressure is delicious and you can't remember the last time you'd felt this exhilarated thanks to another person.

 His lips detach from your own again, opting to kiss your exposed chest instead, grabbing the cup of your bra before looking to you with pleading eyes. Begging to see you in nothing but his embrace. The granting nod of your head is slight, but he notices. He pulls the cup down with no trouble, laying the thick of his tongue against your areola, lapping it around the area like he was trying to lick up all the frosting from a cupcake.

 You felt dizzy as he began to suck on it, a moan being ripped from the pit of your chest. The noise seemed to spur Harry on, biting down softly before kissing down from your chest to your midsection, only stopping to peer up at you. Making sure you were still all in and just as eager as he was. The rational part of your brain knew where he was trailing his kisses. You knew he fully intended to put his mouth to good use, but it didn't stop your mind from the nervous thoughts it was producing.

 "You want me to prove I've got a sweet tooth, angel? I'll prove it to ya," Harry says, breath shallow in pure excitement. If the situation weren't so filthy, you'd think it wholesome. A kiss is pressed to your upper thigh, causing your muscles to clench and your breathing to halt. You could feel each breath that passed through his nostrils, washing over the delicate plush skin it hit.

 Harry took not a second to prepare for you, instead just peeling the pink lace from your behind and tossing them to the corner of his room. He stopped your legs from closing, taking a moment to peer between your legs where you were no doubt dripping for him. You'd be embarrassed if you weren't so eager, but from the way his nostrils flare and his eyes darken, you can tell he may not mind it.

 "Looks sweet, y'know," he breathes, warm breath now coating you in the most sinfully delightful way. You look down at him fast enough to catch his tongue leave his mouth to find your centre, immediately causing your body to tense. He started slowly at first, giving you a deep kiss between your legs before beginning to stroke his tongue against your clit in quick succession. It was mind-blowing, how quickly you felt yourself unravel. Your eyes wanted to clench shut desperately, but your mind wouldn't allow it. You couldn't possibly tear your eyes from the sight of the lower half of Harry's face pressed flat against your aching cunt, licking sucking and nibbling to his heart's content. His strong hands gripping your hips in an attempt to steady your rocking body. Your moans picked up with his rhythm, hand sneaking down to grasp his long locks between your fingers.

 "Harry, ungh, I'm gonna, uh! Fuck," you cried, tried warning him of your imminent end, but your voice just wouldn't allow it. You could faintly feel Harry moving the mattress with his quick ruts to the bed in search of some form of release, groaning and moaning against your sensitive skin.

 "C'mon then, lovie. Tastes so good, want more," He coaxes, voice deeper than it had been when he'd spoken earlier. He shook his tongue against you, releasing one of his hands from your hip to slide a finger into you, curving once he'd buried it as far as you'd permit. He removed it before twirling it back in, swivelling it in a circular motion and repeating. The combination of his wicked tongue, finger and moans had you coming to your end and had Harry lapping it up like a dog in heat.

 "God! Harry," You moaned loudly, holding tighter onto his hair. You knew you ought to ease up a bit, but he continued driving his finger in and out of you, nearly making you lose your mind. He was groaning against you, tongue never letting up until you'd finally had enough, pulling your legs together and pushing his head away.

 "Told ya I have a sweet tooth. I reckon I'll have you over at least once a week, if you'll let me." He smirks cheekily from the end of the bed, swiping the back of his hand across his chin to rid himself of your slick. For the first time in a long time, you were speechless. Instead of speaking, you reach down to grab at his shoulder, weakly attempting to pull him up the bed. He chuckles at your feeble try, accommodating you by dragging himself up to your face, kissing your nose gingerly.

 "Please Harry, I-" You didn't want to seem desperate, but at the moment, you felt terribly empty and you wanted him to just get on with it. You could feel the heavy length of him sat right on your clit, the corduroy material of his pants giving a certain friction that was fulfilling, but not entirely.

 "M' mouth wasn't enough, pet? Want more? Want me to stuff ya full?" He murmurs the filthy words against your skin, nipping at it every once in a while. You nod so vigorously he's afraid your head will fall to the ground. With another deep chuckle, he places a soft kiss to the crown of your head as he reaches to his bedside table for a condom.

 "Sure about this? I can just wank off if you don't wanna," Harry reassures her, fidgeting with the foil packaging. You can't help but press a firm kiss to the beauty mark by his lip, giggling at his words.

 "Yeah, I'm sure. Don't make me beg for it." You plead, fully aware that you'd beg in a heartbeat if it meant you could see this pretty boy in such a vulnerable state. He didn't have to know that, though.

 He nodded before unwrapping the plastic sheath, unravelling it on himself before giving himself a few purposeful tugs. The tension of his bicep and the soft grunts causing you to ache for him. He guides himself down to where he knows you're ready to take him, locking eyes with yours once more before shoving his hips forward. He didn't stop until he was bottomed out, heavy balls resting atop your behind. The initial push had you both reeling; clenched eyes and furrowed brows as you both adjusted to the new feeling. You'd never been with anyone bigger, and he could've sworn he'd never felt such a warm, wet, inviting cunt in his life. He could've blown his load right then.

  "God, princess. You've got the tightest little pussy, haven't you?" He was egging you on, wanting you to become more vocal. Dying to hear the strain in your voice, fully fucked out. You whimper in reply, jutting your hips up into his to get him to move. Your motion caught him off guard, causing the muscles in his stomach to become taught as he groaned.

 "Gotta warn a lad if you're gonna move, lovie. Nearly nutted off." Harry breathed a laugh before pulling his hips back halfway, slowly inching himself back in. You'd never felt such pleasure from such minimal movement, but the way he was digging into you had you breathless in no time.

 "Good, so so good," you panted out, gripping his shoulders tightly as if you'd float away otherwise. Both of your bodies were working together like a well-manufactured machine, pushing and pulling in the best ways.

 "Yeah? You like it slow, then? Like it when you can feel me here?" Harry boasted, pressing his large palm on your tummy just below your belly button. The next thrust he delivered made you scream out involuntarily, backing up towards the top of the bed. You hadn't expected to feel him brush against the palm of his own hand, but the added pressure set you off, rolling your eyes backwards and crying out in pure bliss.

 "Fuck, keep sayin' my name, lovie. Neighbours'll hear me giving you a proper fucking shag," He groaned, picking up the pace minutely, holding onto your hip with his free hand. "Don't run from it, darlin, take me. Fucking feel me," you could tell he was losing himself, slowly beginning to babble incoherently. You felt a surge of arousal at the fact you had this stranger in such a state.

 "Harry, I'm gonna fucking come again," you moaned loudly, upon his request but mainly because you really couldn't help yourself. Your moans were becoming higher pitched and more frequent, and you could tell it was feeding Harry's ego very well, fueling his own end.

 "Yeah? G'na come for me again? G'na let me feel it?" He grunted, bottoming out and swivelling his pelvis atop your own, pubis rubbing against your already overstimulated clit. That, in combination with his gruff voice and the sweat dripping off his own body onto yours, finished you off, clenching your core down onto his stiff prick deep within you, throwing your head back in defeat. You let the overwhelming pleasure course through your veins, bucking your hips blindly into his and mutter his name repeatedly.

 Seeing your beautiful face screwed up in pleasure whilst you whined and moaned that he was so good really did Harry in. In fact, a particularly filthy cry of his name is what did it for Harry, spewing all the spunk he was worth into the latex. His body folded, narrowly missing your body as he collapsed onto his Queen sized mattress, a sweaty and exhausted mess.

It took the pair of you a couple of minutes to catch your breath before either of you spoke. You thought he may never say anything, but as he lifted his head from your breasts to make eye contact with you, you smirked.

 "Think I can convince you to stay the night?" He asked dreamily, a glint in his eye. And really, how could you refuse?

--

This is my first published work, so please be kind to her!! I worked on it for quite a while, so feedback is always appreciated!

[capsicletho]

movie night (Avengers x Reader; platonic!Steve x Reader)

@hahaboop: hi! :) can I suggest a cute avengers movie night type thing? I absolutely love avengers fluff! 

Word count: 929

Author: @chrixa

Warning(s): none

A/N: Thank you for requesting this! I enjoyed writing this after what seems like forever because I had the longest writer’s block (sorry). But alas, it is here now, so enjoy!

“Alright, so whose turn is it?” Sam pipes up as he plops himself on the couch.

“I don’t know, check the board, Wilson,” Bucky chimes in, grabbing a couple of popcorn from the bowl in his lap. The ex-assassin is nestled in his array of blankets on the couch where Sam just landed. 

“Can’t be bothered to check it yourself can you, Barnes,” Sam mutters before eventually getting up to check The Board™. Bucky flips the finger playfully behind Sam’s back as he went. 

Yes, I know we have a top-of-the-line AI who can keep track on whose turn it is to choose the film for the bi-weekly movie night. But the Earth’s mightiest heroes opted for a tool so mundane to keep them grounded to reality: a dollar-store bought, Avengers-themed white board, complete with its dry erase marker and eraser.

I chuckle to myself at the scene in front of me, before claiming my position beside Steve who, at this point, has given up his personal space and succumbed to becoming my personal space heater and cuddle buddy during movie nights. And I don’t think he minded.

“You comfy?” Steve asks me. I just hum in response as we get settled. 

“Where’s that son of a- STARK IT’S YOUR PICK!” Sam shouted from his spot. 

“Mr. Stark says he will be down in a minute, Mr. Bird Brain,” the AI responds in Tony’s absence. A collective chuckle hushes over the room at FRIDAY’s answer, because of course Tony called Sam Bird Brain, again. Sam rolls his eyes and went back to his spot beside Bucky, who refuses to share both his popcorn and blanket. A moment later, they start bickering, again.

“Settle down, children, jeez,” I say in a mocking ‘mom’ tone, which caused Steve and Natasha, who waltzes in the room, to chuckle. 

“You two better settle down before Y/N goes full mom mode,” Nat teases. 

“I don’t have enough energy to be a mom today, but I would if I have to,” I raise my eyebrows at both Barnes and Wilson, and they both quietly bicker before finally getting comfortable, Bucky relenting half of his blanket to Sam. 

Nat takes her usual spot at the couch beside Steve as Wanda walks in the room and I pat the spot next to me and she squeezes in. “No Vision today?” I ask as she settles her blanket down and hugging a ‘good at naps’ pillow. 

“No, he prefers to read in his room, need some ‘alone time’. Who knew robots also need alone time?” She wonders, before muttering, “Probably from those weirdos,” pointing to Sam and Bucky, making me chuckle. 

“Your saviour is here, people,” Tony announces, which got no response from his people. He then stops in front of the TV. “I have chosen this week’s movie with great research and consideration.”

I raise my eyebrows.

“FRIDAY, dim the lights and let the film commence,” he says extravagantly with what could be described as unmistakably Tony Stark, before taking his spot on his recliner. 

The iconic Disney opening credits start to roll and I could hear Sam trying to exclaim a discreet “Yes!”, which received a shush from the whole group, followed by a mumbled “sorry”. 

The thunder rumbles on screen as the movie starts and Steve whispers to me, “What’s the title?” I was about to answer when Nat chimes in, “Emperor’s New Groove.” 

“Damn, Romanoff, you know your Disney, huh?” Sam says from the other end, probably louder than he intended. He, once more, got a collective shush from the group, and a nudge from Bucky. 

“Did this come out recently?” it’s Wanda’s turn to ask me. “Uh, no, honey. It came out in like the 2000s,” I smile at her, which she returns as a thank you. 

After two bathroom breaks in the middle of the movie by Bucky and Tony respectively, we finally finish the movie. A content sigh hushes over the room.

“Well, that was a treat,” I break the silence. “Thanks, Tony.”

“No worries, sweetheart,” he replies, blowing kisses to me which I return.

“Yeah, I still prefer the second one,” Sam pipes up, pausing to yawn, “that one’s much better.” 

“Nuh-uh,” Nat gives him a mock offended look, “It is not! The first one is the best!” 

“Yeah-uh! The second one is better!” 

“Wha-? You’re even using a quote from the FIRST movie, Wilson!” 

“There’s a second movie?” Wanda chimes in. “I wanna watch that.” 

“It’s your turn to pick the next one, you can add it to the board,” Tony says to her and points to the board.

Nat and Sam is still in a heated, friendly argument (they insisted it was a debate, though) about which one is the better movie, when Bucky timidly says, “I like Tinkerbell.” 

The whole room stops. 

“What?” Steve is the first one to ask. 

Bucky looks up from his phone, confused as to why we’re all looking at him with wide eyes, “What? I like the Tinkerbell movies, is that not allowed?”  

“Buck, I haven’t even seen Tinkerbell, how have you watched all of them?” Steve asks, shaking his head in amusement. “And there are multiple? I didn’t even know that!”

“They are pretty good,” Wanda joins in the discussion.

Sam then begins to tease Bucky relentlessly, his debate with Nat long forgotten. Bucky is defending himself wholeheartedly that the Tinkerbell movies are cinematic masterpieces, complete with exaggerated hand movements.

I’m watching the scene unfold in front of my eyes, chuckling at their antics, while thinking to myself that I’ve found my home. 

[heloflor]

As Time Passes Prologue : My Brother, part 1

AO3 link ; Prologue 1 (The Estate)

A collection of scenes from Vinnie’s early life. From his younger years as a toddler to his last years as a teen. From a life of fear to a life of uncertainty. From an abused child relying on the only good people in his life to a young adult determined to make things right for them.

TRIGGER WARNING : child abuse, violence, depression, mentions of drug and alcohol, infidelity. Basically anything that goes with messed up abusive parents. And to that regard, this fic is NOT made to romanticize abuse or mental illness ! There’s also a moment in part 2 mentioning a dystopic future with the urbanization of the world and its consequences on every species (it’s only one part and you see it coming). This also means mentions of animal abuse and LITERAL animal genocide !!

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Notes : Well, this took 8 months longer than expected…

Seriously. I started working on this chapter BEFORE “The Estate”, only deciding later to start with Cav’s backstory because it makes more sense given what I intend to write for chapters 3 and 4.

Though, that chapter is very, VERY long so that also explains the delay. And even despite the size, I feel like I tried to cram in too much elements and underdeveloped some stuff as a result. Like, that whole thing could be a fic in itself if I had enough ideas to fill the holes there and there.

On a lighter note, during that “hiatus”, I read the book “Wanderers” by Chuck Wending and one interlude gave me the idea of putting dates at the beginning of each new part of the story, which is going to come in VERY HANDY for the story (also the fact that the fic is called “As Time Passes” makes it even better).

As for the chapter itself, let’s just say that, after giving an idea of what Cavendish’s life used to be, now it’s time to show Dakota’s. Though, this chapter will be much longer and goes onto basically his entire life before B.O.T.T.. There are also a lot of dark stuff (as said in the trigger warning) because apparently my brain still hasn’t gotten past that teenager need to make anything as messed up as possible.

Regarding the sibling OCs, fun fact : the idea of Dakota having older siblings came partly from Tumblr and partly from my wish to have Dakota be an uncle due to how much the guy seems to love kids (but I don’t see him have his own, for reason that will be talked about in the main fic). Then, while listening to random songs and coming up with Dakavendish animations in my head (yeah I’m THAT kind of weirdo), I ended up listening to “A Guy Like You” from Disney Hunchback and suddenly Dakota had three siblings. Then all that needed to be done was give them a personality and choose which one would have a kid. And then make them all queer because I spend too much time on the internet.

Another thing about them, to make it easier at the beginning : there are four. And for the age-gap, as an example, the fic starts with the ages being 13 (Enzo “Enzie”), 9 (Bettina “Bettie”), 5 (Donatello “Donnie”) and 3 (Viviana “Vivie”/Vincenzo “Vinnie”).

(side-note about the writing at the beginning : using the wrong pronouns for a character is MUCH harder than I thought it would be)

Btw I don’t know how to draw so instead, if you want to see how the siblings look like, I made them in Miitopia (don’t ask). Here’s the link for it (just ignore my ramblings in this...).

Also, while the idea of him having siblings comes partly from my brain, the idea of Dakota being Italian is 100% from Tumblr and AO3 with like half the Dakavendish fandom who seems to follow this headcanon. Hell, I even have an irl friend who told me Dakota gives them a European vibe while I was telling them that one of the reasons people saw him as trans was his height.

(and I guess you could say the same thing about him having heterochromia and being colorblind ; all the credit for these two ideas goes to the fandom)

Btw, despite them being Italians, the dialogue is in english. In future chapters tho, depending on the character’s POV, some dialogue will either be in Italian or in English in italics.

And fun fact : while googling Italian names to help me name these characters, I discovered that there’s an Italian name that’s “Baldassare” and this is 100% how Dakota’s siblings and nephew/nieces would call Cavendish.

And one last “””fun””” fact : the character of Enzo is partly inspired by a guy I know who, by the age of 6, was the one to wake up, dress, feed, bring to school and overall raise his 4 younger siblings. And if you’re wondering, the guy is 23 now and is doing pretty fine (much, MUCH better than the shit I plan for my OC here). And no, the name of the OC isn’t inspired by this guy. I looked up random Italian names for each sibling + Vinnie’s dead name.

Anyways, onto the fic now. Enjoy !

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January 10, 2134

  The morning started with their usual routine.

Vivie was sleeping soundly, her brother Donnie by her side, until their oldest brother Enzie came to wake them up. Vivie could hear her sister Bettie grumble, not helped by Enzie urging her to get up. He would always claim that, unlike the other two, she needed to be ready early. They didn’t go to school at the same hours. First it was Bettie, then Donnie, and finally Vivie was brought to the nursery.

Enzie also went to school. Bettie once said that Enzie always turned out late because his school started before them. But Enzie always insisted to take care of them first. The older brother didn’t like letting them alone with Mamma. And, truth be told, Vivie didn’t like it either.

Once Enzie reached their bed, Donnie pretended to still be sleeping and made snoring noises. Sometimes, Vivie would do the same. Today though, she just giggled, listening to her brothers argue.

She couldn’t open her eyes. The light hurt her. So she waited for her brothers to be done, for Enzie to focus his attention to her and give her her sunglasses.

Then, the four kids sat on the beds to have their breakfast, taking out the bags hiding under their beds. Years ago, way before Vivie was born, Enzie had decided that they should all hide their fruits and snacks in the bedroom instead of in the kitchen where Mamma could take them, and the others obeyed.

Enzie was always worried about food. Even though Mamma brought enough for them to eat everyday if they shared in small portions, Enzie insisted that it was never enough, that kids like them needed more than that. He always told them that, if they found something to eat, they should eat until they were full and share if some was left. As a result, Bettie and Donnie often brought food back from their lunch at school.

As for Enzie, how he always found something for the three of them was a mystery. Vivie had heard Bettie get angry at her brother more than once, accusing him of stealing food and talking about how he was going to end up in prison. But then Enzie would show what he got her, and she would stop yelling. But Vivie could see that she was still angry, and it made her sad too. Vivie heard that prison was bad, that the people who went left for a long time.

Vivie didn’t want Enzie to go to prison.

 Who would take care of her, if Enzie was not here ?

 …

…

Despite her young age, Vivie would sometimes feel bad for Enzie. He was very nice and always helped her when she was upset. But was anybody helping him ? Enzie slept on the scratchy couch in the living-room to let Bettie have her own bed. He refused to eat until his siblings ate enough. He helped Bettie with her homework before doing his. He never slept if one of them wasn’t, willing to tell as many songs and story as needed. He always went outside with them to watch over them. If one of them needed something from Mamma, he would talk to her for them.

 Vivie couldn’t talk that well yet. While she knew a few words, she was said to be behind on language. But while she couldn’t communicate, she could observe.

 When she was at the nursery, Vivie would see the other children, the other families. She was told about how a family worked.

The parents took care of the children. The parents fed the children, helped them with their homework, told them bedtime stories, watched over them, cared for them, have a bed for each one of them.

 Mamma didn’t do any of this. She never did.

 Mamma was just there, in the house, with them. Enzie told them not to talk to her. She could be dangerous when she was bothered.

And yet, she would go to them sometimes. She would go outside with them, just walking ahead as she brought Donnie and Vivie to the closest playground. She would mention them on the phone. Vivie even saw her go to Bettie’s school play once.

But the rest of the time, she would be lying down somewhere in “her side” of the house, glaring when any of her children would come close all the while holding one of those bottles Enzie completely forbid them to touch. Or she would be out of the house, especially at night, going to what Vivie supposed was her job.

So, since she was never there, Enzie took care of them.

  It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t how the other children lived. Enzie was not an adult, at least Vivie didn’t think so. Bettie said he was as much of a child as she was.

 But Vivie couldn’t do anything about it. As of right now, all she could do was finish her morning snack, brush her teeth, let Enzie dress her up and follow her older siblings as they packed for school, listening to the same instructions Enzie gave them each day : “Don’t go with any strangers.”, “Listen to your teachers.”, “Don’t get in trouble.”

 Maybe it wasn’t normal, but it was all that Vivie knew. And at the very least, she supposed it was better than nothing.

    ---------------

October 30, 2134

  Vivie didn’t understand how she ended up here, on the examination table of the nearest doctor. She had been in the bedroom, getting yelled at by Donnie for taking his clothes. She always liked his clothes more than her own. But when Enzie arrived to investigate the noise, a confusion happened.

Donnie complained that Vivie took his yellow shirt and his red pants. And while Vivie couldn’t lie about that, she insisted that everything she was wearing was of the same color and that Donnie was using two words that meant the same thing. While Donnie and Vivie went back and forth about colors, Enzie went to pick up a few clothes. He then quickly interrupted his younger siblings, sat Vivie down and asked her to tell him the color of each outfit.

The four years-old was confused but decided to comply. Describing blue shirts, purple costumes and pink underwear. But then, there was the color of the clothes she was wearing, a color Vivie had heard being called by three different names : yellow, red and green.

Each time the clothes would have this color, she would use one of those words randomly, getting several huffs from Donnie, making her feel like she was doing something wrong.

After a few more, the thirteen years-old asked Donnie to close the blinds and turn off every light, which the six years-old quickly did. Then, Enzie requested that his sister remove her sunglasses.

They tried his game again, leading to the same results. The girl started sniffing while twirling one temple of her sunglasses. Was there something wrong with her ? Were her eyes wrong again ? Enzie was quick to hold her and calm her down, singing her her favorite lullaby.

 Next thing Vivie knew, she was walked to the hospital by her brother. There, a doctor tried to look at her eyes with a light, leading to a lot of struggling from the young child. He then followed with a guessing game with numbers hidden inside colored circles. It was only then that the doctor explained what was wrong with her.

He called it “color-blindness”. It meant that she didn’t see colors the same way other people did, the same way her siblings did. In his explanation, the doctor mentioned how it was incredibly rare for a girl to be colorblind without any sibling or parent being colorblind as well. Enzie replied that he never questioned his parents about it. And while Mamma seemed able to see colors just fine, the teen had no idea if Papà was the same as her.

But, in any case, there was a way to partially fix this.

The doctor excused himself for a minute, letting the anxious teen and the fidgety child alone. Enzie went to sit next to his sister, who was quick to jump on his lap. He ran a finger through the toddler’s curly hair and she pressed her head against his chest. She smiled, feeling peaceful and safe in his arms.

When the doctor came back, he was holding a small pair of glasses with orange lens, along with two identical balls. Enzie stood back up and the doctor gave the plastic balls to the toddler, telling her to raise her head so that he could put the new glasses.

Once Vivie opened her eyes with the new glasses in place, she found herself squeal in surprise.

The balls in her hands, they weren’t the same color at all ! And those colors…had she even seen them before ?!

While the doctor was talking to her brother, Vivie kept putting the glasses on and off, noticing the immediate difference in colors. How could this even be ?!

But before she could ask any question, Enzie gave her the other pair of sunglasses, took her in his arms, thanked the doctor and left the office.

  Vivie seated herself in her brother’s arms, the movement from his walking slowly rocking her to sleep.

“Vivie ?”, the teen’s voice took away the fog in her mind.

“huh ?”

“Did you like seeing those colors with the new glasses ?”

“uh-huh.”, the toddler nodded.

“Do you want to have glasses like that all the time.”

“Yes !”, she replied, her head snapping away from Enzie’s shoulder.

“Then this Saturday we’ll got get you a pair. Okay ?”

“Okay !”

“Good. Now let’s go back home before Donnie or Bettie get on mamma’s nerves.”

As the teenager walked at a fast pace, a new question arose in his sister’s mind.

“Enzie ?”

“Yes ?”

“Do you…you will fall down for my new glasses ?”, the toddler asked full of worry. Bettie had told her the story of how she got her sunglasses. Apparently, she had refused to open her eyes as a baby and, everytime Enzie asked mamma to go see a doctor, she refused. She “didn’t care enough”, Bettie said. So Enzie decided to give her a reason to go, and jumped from a window, forcing mamma to bring him to the hospital, where the then-child was able to convince the doctor to help Vivie.

“Will I…oh ! Oh no, don’t worry !”, the teenager’s laugh didn’t do anything to ease Vivie’s worry. She pouted.

“Do not get hurt !”, she insisted.

“I promise you Vivie, we’re just going to go to a store. I…”, he looked away. “I can get the money for it…I mean…I’m sure mamma wouldn’t mind losing a few euros…”

“Mamma will help ? With no you falling ?”

“She will.”, Enzie assured. “And I won’t fall. Don’t worry about it, piccolina. Everything’s going to be alright.”

    ---------------

July 4, 2136

  Vivie was hiding in a closet. She had done it again. She had taken Donnie’s clothes.

It was something she did a lot, something she had done for a long time now.

It wasn’t that she found it fun to annoy Donnie ! She just didn’t like her clothes. Bettie had tried to get her “good-looking girl clothes” with the little money they had for it, but Vivie couldn’t care less. She only wore the same few outfits, the ones that Bettie never called “girly”. The only “girly” thing she continuously wore was a heart-shaped pink hairclip, but only because it made her sister very happy.

She didn’t want “pretty girl clothes”, she liked Donnie’s clothes more, even if they were too big for her. She actually liked the size of these clothes, as she could flap her hands with the too-long sleeves of his winter shirts.

Sometimes, when Vivie wore his clothes, Donnie would just let it go and they’ll keep playing together. But other times, like today, Donnie got upset by it. And now, the seven years-old had gone to fetch their older brother.

So Vivie stayed hidden, not wanting to face Enzie’s anger. Las time she saw him, the fifteen years-old had been with Bettie, busy doing homework. And Enzie didn’t like being interrupted by their “small and stupid arguments”, as he once put it. Especially for homework. For the last year, he had been complaining more and more about how he never had the time to just sit down and work with three noisy kids running around and needing him left and right.

Still, it didn’t take long for the child to hear the sound of his footsteps getting louder and louder as he approached.

“Vivie !”, the older brother called.

“I’m not here !”, the five years-old replied. She heard her brother sigh.

“Vivie, come out there. We need to have a talk.”

“I don’t want to !”, another sigh.

“Vivie, I’m not mad at you. Just come out. I’m not going to yell.”

“...Promise ?”

“Promise.”

Tentatively, Vivie opened the closet’s door and caught sign of her brother. He was sitting on her and Donnie’s bed. As she opened the door a little more, he patted the space next to him.

She left the closet and went to sit on the bed. Enzie watched as the child scooted over towards him, looked at his face, scooted a little more, looked at him again and finally moved to sit on his knees.

“You want to talk ?”, Vivie asked.

The teen nodded.

“You’re not angry ?”

He shook his head. Vivie looked in front of her as she considered it. If Enzie wasn’t angry about the clothes, then why did he want to talk to her ? But her thoughts were interrupted by the fifteen years-old putting a hand in her hair, prompting his sister to snuggle against his chest.

“Polpetta ?”

“Yeah ?”

“Why do you keep stealing Donnie’s clothes ?”

“I don’t steal them.”, Vivie protested. “I wear them.”

“And why don’t you wear your clothes ? You don’t like them ?”, Enzie’s voice was calm and soft, though Vivie could still hear the sternness and tiredness his voice often carried.

The child shook her head as a reply.

“But you like Donnie’s clothes ?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you like them more than yours ?”

Vivie had to pause to think for a moment. With her worry from earlier and the drowsiness form feeling a hand play with her hair, she found it hard to think.

“Is it because of the colors ?”, Enzie continued. “Or the size ? Or is it because you have girl clothes ?”

“Yes ! That !”, she suddenly jerked.

“You don’t like girl clothes ?”

“Nuh-uh.”, she replied.

“Why not ?”

Vivie was back to thinking. Why didn’t she like girl clothes ? She knew she didn’t like it when Bettie called them girl clothes, but why ?

“Do you want me to tell you what I think ?”, Enzie asked with a smile. Vivie looked up at his face and the teen chuckled. “I think you don’t like girl clothes because you don’t like being a girl. Do you like being a girl ?”

Yet again, Vivie looked away with a frown as she tried to concentrate. Was it true ? Did she not like being a girl ?

Vivie didn’t like her girl clothes. She didn’t like people pointing at her and saying she was a girl. And everytime Bettie wanted to play with her, Vivie would refuse. She didn’t like playing dress-up with Bettie. She preferred to play marbles or yoyo with Donnie. Even at school, she tried and liked spending time with boys more than girls, even though the largest group of boys always rejected her.

But were all these feelings because she wasn’t a girl ?

“I dunno.”, she finally replied, looking at Enzie with a pleading look, as if her brother held all the answers.

“Let me put it that way.”, the teenager continued. “If you were a boy, would you be happy about it ? Just imagine yourself as a boy. With boy clothes. A boy’s voice. A boy’s name.”

Vivie did. She could picture herself among the other boys of kindergarten. She looked like them, talked like them, belonged with them. The thought made her smile. When she opened her eyes, she bounced, looking at her brother with a smile.

“I want to be a boy !”, she exclaimed.

“Are you sure ?”

Vivie nodded excitedly.

“Alright then.”, the teen shrugged. “Polpetta-to, since you’re so eager at the thought of being a boy, how about we got get the tablet downstair to find you an actual boy’s name ? And see if you like it ?”

Vivie jumped off of Enzie’s laps and ran downstairs, leaving the room before the teenager even had the time to stand up.

    Half an hour later and the two siblings were still at the coffee table, Enzie reading through a list of names starting with the letter “v”. Vivie wanted a new name that sounded like her current one.

“Vittore ?”

“ummm. No.”

“What about Vladimir ?”

“…Maybe ?”

“We could call you Vladdie. Or Vaddie.”

“no.”

“Are you even sure you want a new name ? Maybe I was wrong earlier when I said you were a boy.”

“No ! You’re not wrong ! I’m a boy ! I want a boy’s name ! Just like you and Donnie !”

“Alright then.”, the teen sighed. He mumbled something.

“huh ?”

“Nevermind. How abou-“

“What are you two doing ?”, Vivie’s head perked up at the sound of Bettie’s voice. The eleven years-old was on top of the stairs, trying to look at the tablet over Enzie’s shoulder.

“Looking for a name for our little brother over here.”, the teen replied. “Where’s Donnie ?”

“In the bedroom.”, Bettie walked down the stairs. “You know Enzie, when I complained that Vivie acts like she wants to be a boy instead of being stuck as a girl, I was joking.”

“Maybe you were but he wasn’t. At least I think.”

he…their brother… Vivie liked being called that.

“Then…it looks like I don’t have a little sister after all.”, Bettie commented with a hint of sadness in her voice. This made Vivie frown. Sh-…He didn’t want to make his sister sad.

“Maybe not,”, the oldest brother defended. “but instead, you have a great little brother.”

“I guess…”, she went to stand near Vivie, her younger brother. “So,”, she continued. “you’re looking for a boy’s name ?”

“Uh-huh !”, the child replied.

“Found anything you like yet ?”

“We’re trying.”, Enzie replied, putting his head back onto the list.

With the teen’s attention away, Bettie turned back to Vivie.

“Say, once you’re done with that, how about we go return your clothes and buy you better ones ?”

“Yes !”, Vivie jumped in his seat. That’s when he remembered the hairclip he was still wearing. He took it off and presented it to Bettie. “For you.”, he explained. “I won’t wear it now. But you like it. So you should wear it.”

Bettie smiled. “Alright. Whatever you say, patatino.”, she looked at Enzie. “Found other names ?”

“You have Vivaldo, Vidone, Vezio, Vincenzo or Vincent in English,-”

“Vincenzo ?”, for some reason, the name stuck with him. Vincenzo…

“Do you like it ?”, Bettie asked. Vivie nodded. “You want to be called Vincenzo ?”

“I think so…yeah…yes ! I want to be Vincenzo !”

“Finally !”, Enzie sighed, dropping the tablet on the table. The two younger siblings just stared at him, until he glanced back and smirked. Bettie laughed.

“Let’s go return your old clothes, Vincenzo.”, the sister said, already on the move.

“Coming !”, the youngest sibling jumped to follow but was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. Enzie ruffled his hair with a smile.

“Hope you’re going to enjoy being a boy, Vinnie.”

    When the evening came, there was one last thing to do.

Vincenzo…Vinnie was standing in the doorway, his fingers tapping the wall as he anxiously watched Enzie walking towards Mamma. The woman was in the kitchen, making herself one of those drink Enzie prevented them to touch.

“…Claudia ?”, the teen asked.

“You know better than to bother me, Enzo.”, Mamma replied in a sharp tone without looking up from her bottle. She took a sip while Enzie seemed to gather his courage.

“It’s about-“

“Enzo.”, Mamma warned. Vinnie didn’t miss how her hand moved to the top of the bottle and he shivered, grabbing the wall. He knew exactly what mamma could do when she was angry.

“Vinnie is a boy, not a girl !”, the fifteen years-old blurted out before taking a few steps back.

Mamma turned around and glared at her son, but she didn’t make a move to hit him. Still, this didn’t make Vinnie feel any less tense.

“Vivie…Viviana. His name is Vincenzo now. He’s a boy.”, Enzie continued with a firmer voice.

Mamma’s gaze seemed to lose some of its anger, though she still gave the teen a dirty look. After a few seconds, she glanced at the child at the door and Vinnie froze. She started to make her way towards him, almost instantly followed by Enzie who ran to his little brother, holding him protectively against his chest.

Mamma ignored him, her gaze on her youngest child. Vinnie looked down, gripping Enzie’s shirt in fear.

“Very well, Vincenzo. And please make your brother understand not to bother me when I’m busy or he’ll deeply regret this.”, and with that, she went to her bedroom, bottle in hand.

Once she was out of view, Enzie let out a deep sigh of relief and let go of his brother. Vinnie continued to cling on his shirt for a moment. He started crying and buried his head in Enzie’s chest, trying to cover his sobs. The older brother ran his fingers in Vinnie’s hair in a soothing motion.

“Shhh, let it all out. It’s okay to cry.”, Vinnie kept his head where it was, though his sobs became louder. “There you go. It’s alright. Everything’s alright.”, Enzie was right, and Vinnie knew it.

 Vinnie had a new name. He had new clothes.

His siblings supported him.

Enzie told him that, if he did continue to feel like a boy, there could be a few changes for him to do once he’s older, at least if he wished to. Enzie promised he would do anything to make sure these changes happen.

But for now, they did everything that could be done.

 They talked to mamma.

Mamma had accepted him.

 …

He was going to be alright.

As long as he stayed away from mamma, as long as he kept listening to Enzie, everything was going to be fine.

    ---------------

March 22, 2137

  Vinnie didn’t know what to make of Papà.

As far as the six years-old could remember, which wasn’t a lot, papà would show up from time to time starting in January. He would spend the afternoon talking to mamma, or going to her bedroom, and then he would leave.

Papà never stayed the entire night. He never showed up two days in a row.

And once spring was coming to an end, during the first days of July, he would leave and not come back for the rest of the year.

Vinnie was curious about the man. He was his papà after all ! But he never got to interact with him, never got to sit down and talk to him. He wanted to learn who he was, what he liked, why he was only here from time to time and why it was only during winter and spring…

 Vinnie had tried asking his siblings about papà, but none of them gave him a satisfying answer.

Donnie was as lost as he was. He never had an opportunity to talk to papà, always afraid to run into mamma or to have Enzie yell at him for it.

Bettie looked at Vinnie with sad eyes, told him not to go see papà, that he was dangerous. When the brother asked why, the twelve years-old refused to answer.

 As for Enzie…

Enzie didn’t like papà. He said papà was very dangerous, that he didn’t care about them, that the four kids shouldn’t waste their time with him.

Everytime the kids would stumble across him while walking through the house, papà would stop in his tracks to gaze at them with an indecipherable expression. Enzie would immediately shush his younger siblings away, all while glaring at the man. Sometimes, Vinnie would look at his papà and see him glare back at the teen.

 While Vinnie didn’t know much about his papà, since he never got to interact with him, there was at least one thing he was sure of.

 Enzie hated papà.

Papà hated Enzie.

And because of that, Enzie would never let his siblings approach him.

  But one day, Vinnie got an occasion to talk to him.

  Enzie was doing homework upstairs with Bettie. Now that the teenager was in high-school, and with the other siblings old enough to be unsupervised for a while, Enzie decided to spend more time working on his future. In the meantime, Bettie has chosen to step up and help him, looking after her younger siblings if needed.

But right now, neither of them was downstairs. Same thing for Donnie.

 That was how Vinnie found himself peeking inside the living-room where his parents were. His papà was sitting on the couch with his arms and legs stretched out, while mamma seemed to be “making herself a drink” as Bettie called it. The child crouched down at the entrance and listened as his papà talked.

“-shouldn’t be there anyways.”

“You say the same thing every single year, Pietro. And yet, you always come crawling back to me. It’s been more than ten years. Just admit you can’t help it.”

“Just like you can’t help having your load of kids ? Do you have any idea how much they cost me ?!”

“You can stop sending me money any time you want.”, Vinnie could almost hear the laugh in her voice. “But I don’t think your little family will take it very well once I go to ask them for my money.”

Papà grumbled and looked away from her. “You’re the shittiest human being I ever met, Claudia. I hope you know that.”

“You’re no better yourself. Lying and cheating at any given chance. Honestly it’s a miracle she still doesn’t suspect a thing. You two really found each other. So naïve and in denial of the truth about the world. ~ ”

As mamma kept smirking and teasing papà, the man was getting more and more angry. Vinnie could see his hands gripping on the sofa, as if trying to rip it off. This made the child tense up at the prospect of his parents fighting.

“What now ?”, mamma suddenly spat in annoyance. The two adults glanced at Vinnie, and that’s when he realized that he had been anxiously tapping on the doorway’s wall, giving himself away with his noise.

“Umm…hi…”, Vinnie said in a quiet voice, waving awkwardly. Now that he had been caught spying, he might as well show himself more. Who knew, maybe this would be his only occasion ever to talk to papà !

Mamma just huffed and went back to pour her glass, while papà kept his eyes on the child.

“This is the youngest one, right ?”, papà asked. “Viviana ?”

“Vincenzo.”, mamma corrected before Vinnie could. “Turns out your daughter was a son this whole time.”

“And you changed her-his name, without my permission ?!”

“If you have a problem with that, you can talk to Enzo about it.”

Papà looked down, teeth gritted. “This child should learn a little respect.”, he spat.

“Have fun telling him that.”, mamma replied, completely impassive.

“Why don’t you at least try to teach that boy anything ?!”

“I don’t know. Why do you suddenly care about these children ?”, she shrugged. “Besides, Enzo’s almost an adult. He’s not my problem anymore.”

“You’re going to throw him out ?”

“He intends to throw himself out.”, mamma explained. “But maybe if you give us more financial support, he would have half a mind to stay.”, she joked. Papà was not amused at all.

The man punched the couch and fell silent, looking away from the mother and son. For a few moments, Vinnie just stood there, observing the man with hesitation. He knew he should be leaving, now. If Enzie saw him there, his older brother would kill him. But right now, as he felt so close to having a moment with the older man, his curiosity to meet his father was stronger than his fear of consequences.

Eventually, Vinnie saw papà’s fists unclench. This prompted the child to try and make a move. With hope to finally have a conversation with the man, Vinnie tentatively walked to the couch. When the man didn’t move, Vinnie put a hand on his knee.

Still no reaction.

Getting more and more hopeful, the six years-old hopped on his knees. Papà still didn’t move.

Well, it seemed like Vinnie had to start the conversation.

“I…um…”, Vinnie had his hands on his own knees, opening and closing his legs awkwardly as he thought of what to say. “I’m…I’m not Vivie anymore. I’m Vinnie now.”

No response.

After a few seconds, Vinnie started wondering if maybe his siblings were right. If maybe it would be better to just let it go and leave, especially seeing the dirty look mamma was giving him. But before the child could move, something he didn’t expect happened.

 Papà put a hand on his back.

 Vinnie froze and looked up. The man still wasn’t looking at him.

Without much thinking, Vinnie pressed his face against papà’s chest. Suddenly, the hand on his back start moving, reaching his shoulder and slowly rubbing it.

Vinnie looked up as papà looked down at his face. The child smiled but his gesture wasn’t reciprocated. The older man just seemed to study his face, keeping the same neutral expression.

 Vinnie had no idea how much time wet by before papà decided to open his mouth.

“Why are you wearing those ?”, he asked, tapping the corner of Vinnie’s sunglasses.

Vinnie felt himself ready to jump in happiness. Papà was talking to him ! They were having an actual conversation ! He could learn more about him !

But instead, Vinnie did his best to stay calm, letting his only sign of excitement be the rapid movement of his legs. He really didn’t want to ruin the moment.

Besides, thinking of how papà had acted earlier made the child feel intimidated by the man.

“It’s..for my eyes.”, he explained. “The light is bad for my eyes. So I need to wear those. I also can’t see every color without them.”

“How did you get the money for that ?”, the man asked, glancing at mamma. “Why wasn’t I told about this ?”

“You would have known already if you spent more time here taking care of your children, since you suddenly seem to love them so much.”, she replied in a sharp tone. “Or would it be too suspicious for your dearest missus ? ~ ”

Papà didn’t replied, instead looking back at the child still in his lap. Vinnie didn’t really know what the adults were talking about, and he had a feeling it wasn’t something he was supposed to understand. If anybody were to take care of it, it would be Enzie.

 Vinnie was still in his thoughts when papà lifted his head with a finger, taking a better look at his eyes. Remembering his experience at school, Vinnie instinctively grabbed the sides of his glasses in case papà tried to remove them.

“Your eyes…”, the man commented. “They’re different colors ?”

“Uh ? Oh ! Oh yes they are !”, Vinnie was quick to reply. He smiled again, seriously wondering why Enzie was so against them talking to papà. Sure, the man was a bit scary when talking with mamma, but at least he seemed to care about his son. More than mamma at least…Or, well, when he was around at least…

“Vincenzo ?”, papà was moving a hand in front of Vinnie’s face.

“Uh ? Oh ! right ! My eyes !”, Vinnie quickly pointed to his left eye, tapping the glass. “This one is blue. And this one-“, he pointed to his right eye. “is brown. Just like yours !”, he commented with a smile.

“…Sure.”

The man fell silent again and Vinnie looked down, trying to find another thing to say.

“…Sa-“

“VINNIE !”

Vinnie froze at the familiar and booming sound of his oldest brother’s voice.

Uh oh…

“Enz-“, papà tried.

“YOU GET AWAY FROM HIM !”

Enzie ran into the room, snatched the six years-old away and walked out, all while looking at the older man with a murderous stare. Vinnie was able to give one last glance at his parents before the door closed, seeing papà stare in confusion and anger at Enzie while mamma walked towards the man with the same impassive expression, as if she had expected something like that to happen.

With the door now closed, Enzie put his attention onto the scared child.

“WHAT WHERE YOU THINKING BEING WITH THEM ?!”

“I…I just wanted to talk to papà…”, Vinnie sheepishly replied, his head down.

“THAT MAN IS DANGEROUS, VINNIE !”

“But we were just talkin-“

“VINNIE !”

Vinnie fell quiet, finding himself unable to meet his brother’s gaze. He instead focused on the underside of the shirt he was gripping on.

After a few moments, Enzie managed to regain his composure. He sighed.

“Listen, Vinnie. I know you just want to talk to papà, but that man is a bad person. I’ve seen him hurt mamma before, he’s as dangerous as she is, if not more.”, Enzie lifted Vinnie’s head. “I just want you to be safe, polpetto, alright ?”, Vinnie nodded, still avoiding Enzie’s eyes. “Good.”, Enzie kissed his forehead. “Now let’s get back upstairs, alright ? I think I can already hear Donnie calling for you. ~ ”, the teen said in a way that Vinnie knew was an attempt to light up the mood.

“…Alright.”

Enzie held Vinnie’s hand as he led him to his bedroom. Vinnie just followed in silence, stuck into his own mind.

 Enzie was a good person. He took care of Bettie, Donnie and him.

Enzie hated papà, and papà hated Enzie.

But did that really mean that papà was a bad person ?

Was there really no way he could prove that papà was better than Enzie thought ?

…

…Will Vinnie ever get the occasion to talk to him again ?

    ---------------

April 10, 2137

  Enzie and Bettie talked a lot when they were doing homework. Sometimes, Vinnie would hide behind the office’s door to listen to them.

They talked about all kinds of topics. From school to the girls Bettie liked to even Donnie and Vinnie and how annoying the brothers could be at times, making the older duo feel exhausted.

But other times, they would talk about their parents, about how they felt about them.

It was obvious that Enzie hated those kinds of talks. But at the same time, he always seemed to use Bettie’s curiosity as an occasion to tell her to avoid being around them.

Bettie mostly asked questions about the relationship between her parents and why they acted the way they did. Enzie answered as best as he could, but even he barely knew about them.

However, among the flow of questions Vinnie heard Bettie ask, one in particular stood out to him.

 Does mamma have other men in her life ? Does the four of us come from the same papà ?

 When she asked this, Bettie was mostly talking about Donnie and how different the eight years-old looked compared to his siblings.

Curious, Vinnie started to pay attention to the facial features of his family and, soon enough, the six years-old understood what his sister meant :

 Out of all of them, Donnie was the only one who didn’t look like papà at all.

 Enzie was almost a perfect replica of papà. He had the man’s square chin and nose, his thick eyebrows that were more than often furrowed, along with papà’s curly hair that, in Enzie’s case, was slowly growing past his shoulders. Vinnie wondered how much the sixteen years-old hated looking so much like the man he despised more than anyone else. The only real difference between the men was color, with Enzie having mamma’s black hair and blue eyes where papà had brown eyes and light brown hair.

Vinnie was the second closest to papà. Just like Enzie, he had his old man’s chin, nose and curly hair, though his chin wasn’t as pronounced as his oldest brother. Vinnie even had a brown eye and brown hair, even if his hair was darker than papà’s. Aside from that, the child had one blue eye, like mamma’s, and his eyebrows were not as thick as papà’s or Enzie’s.

Bettie, on the other hand, was more of a mix of her parents. While she had a square chin, it was less pronounced, like for Vinnie. She also had mamma’s smaller nose and eyebrows. For the rest, it was all papà’s. She had his brown eyes and curly hair, which she almost always tied into a bun.

Finally, there was Donnie, who couldn’t be more alike to mamma. He had her rounder head, smaller nose, thin eyebrows and her long straight raven hair that he kept in a ponytail. The only thing that made him different from her, aside from height, voice and personality, was his brown eyes that deferred from her ocean blue ones. Though, as Bettie had pointed it out, a lot of people had brown eyes. From her point of view, any man with brown eyes could be Donnie’s father.

  Vinnie never talked about it to Donnie. He didn’t feel the need to.

Even if he did wonder sometimes if they had the same father, it didn’t change the fact that Donnie was his big brother. That Donnie was his best friend and favorite playmate.

Papà or not, Vinnie loved Donnie as much as he loved Bettie and Enzie. If not more.

    ---------------

November 15, 2138

  Today was the day.

It was Enzie’s 18th birthday. The day everything was going to get better. The day they were finally getting away from mamma and papà !

The oldest brother had been talking about it to his siblings for months. Now that he was an adult, he could “have custody of you three instead of losing you to the system”, as he said. Vinnie wasn’t sure if he fully understood what Enzie meant. At least there was one thing he was sure of.

Enzie was trying to protect them no matter the cost. He was willing to do anything for them.

 That’s what led the four of them into a lawyer’s office.

Mamma was there with them. As far as Vinnie knew, she hadn’t shown any objections to her son’s decision and even wanted to help his case, claiming that the fastest the trial would go, the less money she would have to waste.

Mamma was sitting in one of the two chairs of the small office. Vinnie and Donnie were sharing the second one, the two oldest siblings standing between them and their mother. Vinnie was bouncing his legs, squirming a bit in his chair. Several times, Bettie gently nudged him, telling him to stand still, but he simply couldn’t do it.

He was bored.

Enzie and the lawyer were talking things Vinnie didn’t understand. And when he understood, his mind would quickly end up zoning out. He mostly thought about how papà was supposed to be here, wondering what was taking the man so long.

He wished he had his toys with him right now. Or anything else that could distract him.

  It was during a short moment of focus that Vinnie heard the footsteps coming from the hall, getting louder and louder.

The door busted open, revealing a woman the eight years-old had never met before. She had long frizzy brown hair that was slowly falling back on her shoulders after her running. As she entered the room, she pushed her glasses back onto her nose and looked around until her emerald eyes landed on mamma. She glared at the black-haired lady.

“I had to see it with my own eyes to believe it !”, the new woman said.

“Missus Dakota, I presume ?”, mamma replied. She was sitting cross-legged, her arms folded and her eyes closed, seemingly completely unfazed by what was happening. This confused Vinnie. How could she be so calm when some stranger was yelling at her ?

The child, on the other hand, was glancing in fear at the new lady. When the door had opened, he instinctively took hold of Donnie’s shirt. The ten years-old had been quick to return the gesture. Meanwhile, Bettie had gotten closer to the chair while Enzie stood between the three of them and the door, arms stretched protectively.

“To think this all went under my nose for EIGHTEEN YEARS !”, the lady continued. Vinnie’s grip on his brother’s shirt tightened. The lady was taller than mamma, somehow making her even more intimidating in the moment.

 Before mamma could reply, new footsteps could be heard outside. Despite the commotion in the room, all eyes turned towards the door. Two children peeked inside the room. They looked around the same ages as Donnie and Vinnie. But more importantly, their features looked awfully familiar to Vinnie.

Enzie was the first to react.

“Who the hell are you ?!”, he yelled, pointing at the two children. “Who are all of you and what are you doing here ?!”

Before the lady could answer, papà finally arrived, looking at her with an uncertain gaze.

“Serena, you shouldn-“, he tried gently.

“DON’T YOU TRY FINDING EXCUSES !”, the lady replied, her anger now directed towards papà. “HOW DARE YOU HIDE ME ALL THIS ?!”, she continued to yell, cutting papà everytime he was opening his mouth.

 Vinnie started feeling tears form at the corner of his eyes. He was scared. Overwhelmed. He had no idea what was happening aside from “the adults are all fighting”. So naturally, the eight years-old turned his attention towards the one new adult that was always there when he was feeling upset. He moved to sit with his chest against the chair’s back, gripping it tightly. From here, he had a good view of his eldest brother.

 Surely Enzie had the solution to all this. Surely he could make it all better.

At least, that was what Vinnie hoped.

The oldest brother was looking between the different adults in disbelief. Suddenly, he froze with a look of horror, as if he had just understood something really, really bad.

  “YOU HAD A WIFE THIS WHOLE TIME ?!”

  Somehow, Enzie’s booming voice managed to quiet the fighting. The lady -Serena- looked at him in confusion for a second, until her face bared the same shocked expression as the oldest brother.

“You didn’t know…?”, her whisper was barely audible. She glanced at the rest of the siblings. “None of you did…?”, while Vinnie believed she was still angry and could blow at any instant, he felt like there was a hint of sadness in her voice. Was she feeling pity for them ? Why for ? What did Enzie meant ? With everything happening, Vinnie found himself unable to follow.

“Bettina.”, mamma suddenly interrupted. Serena’s expression immediately darkened, as if she had just remembered the other woman was in the room. “Why don’t you take your younger siblings outside ? The adults are talking, and there’s already enough shouting as it stands.”

“I…um”, Bettie glanced at Enzie. The older brother put a hand on her shoulder and Vinnie could hear him whisper “go”. “Alright. Yeah.”, she turned to the boys still on the chair. “Come on, ometti. Let’s go to that playground we saw on the way in.”

Donnie and Vinnie shared a confused look before getting down the chair. The room was deadly silent as Bettie took their hands and led them out, under the adults’ gazes.

Right before the door closed behind them, Vinnie turned around one last time, seeing the adults ready to go at it again under the confused and concerned look of the lawyer.

 He hoped Enzie would be alright…

    --------------

December 3, 2138

  The case had been taken into court. There had been a trial already, during which each sibling had been asked to testify about their living conditions. The younger trio spent their entire time talking about how their oldest brother had been taking care of them for as long as they could remember.

Vinnie didn’t know how to feel about all this. He had a hard time understanding everything. But most importantly, he was getting impatient.

It was obvious that mamma was bad at taking care of them. Why couldn’t the judge see it already ? They should already be on the road by now ! The eight years-old and his brother Donnie had already started to pack. Somehow, they hoped it could make things go faster.

The whole situation had also taken a toll on Vinnie’s grades. He already had trouble at school, between barely finding the motivation to do any homework unless someone was helping him and being seen by his teachers as agitated, more so than the other kids. And now that he had to worry about where he will end up soon, Vinnie simply couldn’t help zoning out in class to think about it.

And after the first trial, it only grew worse.

His teachers had gotten angry and started punishing him for it.

 Vinnie couldn’t wait for Enzie to take them away.

 …

…Enzie…

 These last weeks, the older brother had been…distant. He spent all of his free-time in the office, working on his case. He only helped his siblings with basic things. Mostly food.

But more than that, the eighteen years-old had gotten more aggressive towards his parents since that day in the lawyer’s office. He couldn’t stand being downstairs if mamma was around. He was insulting them at any given chance, including during the trial they had had.

Enzie was also trying to get things to go as fast as possible. He absolutely wanted to leave before spring, before papà was around again.

Or so Vinnie thought he did.

According to Bettie, papà wasn’t going to ever come back home. At first, when the youngest brothers asked why, she refused to answer.

It had been like this ever since the day they met the lawyer. When they came back home that day, Enzie locked himself in a room, eventually letting Bettie in to tell her everything. The two then refused to explain the situation to their brothers.

 That was, until one day.

 Enzie had come back home, looking more stressed than usual. When Bettie went to ask if everything was alright, he snapped at her -something about their parents being the absolute worst-, and went to lock himself in the office. After that, Bettie had gone back to the bedroom, clearly upset by it all. And when Donnie and Vinnie asked her what Enzie meant, she told them the truth that forever changed Vinnie’s perception of his father :

 Their parents never loved them. They never wanted them. At least, not the way they were meant to be wanted.

Their mother was a drug dealer, a criminal. There wasn’t a single penny she earned honestly. Her whole life revolved around getting money through schemes.

 As it turned out, having children had been one of those schemes.

 Mamma and papà met in an alley, in the middle of the night. Mamma had been out to sell illegal substances. Papà had gotten bored being home alone. His wife, Serena Dakota, had a job that led her to leave the country between January and July. They hadn’t been married for long when mamma and papà met. Bettie said it might have been a reason for his actions.

Papà “wanted a good time”, as Bettie said. He was out to meet a few women, doing things the older sister refused to explain to her brothers.

It was while looking for those women that papà ran into mamma. And when she heard what he wanted, she decided to use the situation to her advantage.

“She held him at gunpoint.”, Bettie explained to them. “The first night, Mamma had looked to steal his phone while he was sleeping and found the wedding ring he had been hiding in his jacket. She used that to blackmail him once Enzie was on the way.”

At first, papà had been happy to spend time with mamma. But then, his wife came home and they had to stop seeing each other. A month later, mamma called him out of nowhere.

She was pregnant.

According to Bettie, this had never been papà’s plan. Mamma had promised him that she was being careful. But, as per usual, mamma lied.

Knowing the child was his, she had been able to get money from him, threatening to reveal his secret to his wife. In exchange, papà only asked for two things : being the one to name them, and being able to visit them whenever.

The money had been the reason why mamma would sometimes go out with them or make sure they had good enough clothes or even prevent any of them from dying. She had to pretend like she liked her children. She needed people to believe they were one happy family, or else someone could call child services and “take away her safest source of income”. And while papà visiting them wasn’t part of her plan, it still at least helped her hiding the reality of her parenting.

Bettie believed that papà felt bad for them. The reason why he visited wasn’t because mamma forced him to be there. Sometimes, he just wanted to see his children, make sure they were still alive and well.

 This was no excuse.

 Even with Enzie’s warryness, he had had dozens of chances to talk to them, to be there for them.

At any moment, he could have said the truth to his wife. Instead, he lied to her. He kept her in the dark and made sure she still loved him. He had children with her, children he took care of. Children he loved.

Children he had chosen the name of years before they were born. Names he made sure none of his “other kids” had.

As he was hearing the truth, Vinnie felt like his parents had just thrown one of their bottles on his body, the glass piercing through his chest. For the following hour after Bettie finished explaining, Vinnie had felt empty. He ended up lying in Bettie’s arms, completely frozen, completely unfazed by the world around him.

 Enzie was right.

 Enzie had always been right.

 Their parents were dangerous. Their parents never loved them. Their parents couldn’t care any less about them.

There was no point trying to get their attention, trying to get their affection. They were heartless. They never had the space in their hearts for him.

Vinnie was an unwanted child. They all were.

They were children born from an affair. Used by their monstrous mother to get money from their unconcerned father.

Enzie had been right all along.

…

…

From now on, Vinnie would listen to Enzie. He would listen to everything his older brother says.

Unlike his parents, Enzie loved him. Enzie wanted what was best for him.

Enzie was the only parent he needed.

    ---------------

March 22, 2139

  “It had been clear for a long time now that Ms. Claudia Drowssap and Mr. Pietro Dakota are not fit to take care of their biological children. However, the question of whether or not Mr. Enzo Dakota could take care of said children had yet to be answered. Today, we have chosen an answer to this question.

While we still remain uncertain of his abilities to provide for them, this court had been told that Mr. Dakota found job opportunities along with possible apartments in Napoli. Furthermore, it is painfully obvious that Mr. Dakota is incredibly attached to his siblings and had been their only anchor for most of their life. For their own well-being as well as his, we believe that separating the four of them is out of the question.

Thus, this court is ready to give its judgment. The custody of the present Bettina, Donatello and Vincenzo Dakota will be granted to their brother Mr. Enzo Dakota. Their parents, Ms. Claudia Drowssap and Mr. Pietro Dakota, will have to repair their inaptitude by paying child support for the next five years. Furthermore, Ms. Drowssap and Mr. Dakota Sr are not to be allowed to visit their children. Finally, they will not be able to keep any other child they may have in the future.

If Mr. Dakota Jr decides to file a claim for child abuse, more consequences might come their way.

This court is adjourned.”

  Vinnie couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

 They did it.

 They really did it !

 The banging of the gavel resonated across the room, announcing the end of this session. The end of their last session. Vinnie jumped out of his seat, seeing from the corner of his eyes that he wasn’t the only one. As soon as the way was cleared enough, Bettie and Donnie ran towards Enzie. The youngest sibling immediately followed suit.

They jumped into his arms, all smiles and laughs. Even after they pulled away, the happy chatter remained. Bettie congratulated Enzie excitedly while Donnie was holding onto her, pushing her back and forth. Vinnie himself was jumping in place, his fists shaking left and right in excitement.

 They were finally free ! They could finally get away from mamma and papà !

  After a few more moments of celebration, Enzie led the group outside. They had to go home and pack up. The oldest brother told them they would leave as soon as possible.

 “ENZO !”

 The siblings had barely finished walking down the stairs when they saw papà walking towards them. The man was walking fast, teeth gritted and fists clenched, looking at his oldest son with a murderous glare.

Enzie stood in front of his younger siblings, shielding them with his arms. Afraid, Vinnie went to hug Donnie. When papà was only a few steps away, the eight years-old closed his eyes. He heard the footsteps stop, followed by ruffling and a short grunt. Vinnie felt Donnie tense.

“Are you happy with yourself ?! Are you proud of what you did ?!”

Vinnie dared opening his eyes and almost gasped. Papà had grabbed Enzie by the collar.

“Because of you, I lost my wife ! I lost my home ! I might even lose my job ! All because YOU decided to get involved in MY business !”

“All I did was trying to survive !”, Enzie replied, returning papà’s glare. “I’ll never apologize for that.”

“YOU RUINED MY LIFE !”

“YOU RUINED YOUR OWN LIFE !”, Enzie pushed papà away from him. The older man raised a fist but didn’t hit his son. Instead, he looked as the younger trio protectively put their hands on Enzie.

“Go.”, Bettie spoke up with a shaking voice. “Leave us alone.”

“…”, papà’s glare was now directed at the four of them. “You are all nothing but a bunch of ungrateful bastards.”, he growled.

“What should we be grateful for ?”, Vinnie surprised himself by deciding to speak. He knew he shouldn’t. Papà was dangerous, he could clearly see it right now. Enzie had been right about that, just like for anything else. And Enzie had told him never to talk to papà again.

And yet, the child couldn’t stop the words from flowing out of his mouth.

“Have you ever done anything to us ?! Have you ever cared for us ?! DO YOU EVEN LOVE US ?!”

Vinnie felt tears stream down his cheeks. He started sobbing.

“Vinnie…”, Donnie murmured. The ten years-old held his younger sibling. “shhh. It’s okay.”, he soothed. “It’s okay to cry.”, Donnie let a hand gently run into Vinnie’s hair, copying the way their oldest brother comforted them. The youngest sibling leaned into the embrace, crying into Donnie’s shirt. When he tried opening his eyes, he noticed that papà was looking away, seemingly more upset than angry after what his son said.

 Enzie was the one to break the silence.

 “You’re dead to us.”, he spat. “Don’t ever try to see us again, or they’ll be consequences. And if you don’t keep paying for support, I’ll sue for the child neglect.”, he threatened. “If you think your life is already ruined, you’re not ready for the hell I’m ready to put you through if you ever DARE try anything against us.”

The two men glared at each other for what felt like forever. Enzie’s last words kept replaying in Vinnie’s head. He wondered with dread how serious his older brother was, how far he was willing to go for them.

 Finally, after a painfully long silence, papà started to back away. He walked a certain distance, glared at his chil- at them one last time, and turned away.

Enzie snorted. “Come on.”, he told his siblings. “Let’s go home. We have a lot to do if we want to leave.”

The oldest brother started to walk away, soon followed by his sister. Donnie and Vinnie looked at each other as they pulled away from their hug, before finally following the older duo.

As he followed the group, Vinnie couldn’t help but look around him, look back at the older man.

From afar, the eight years-old noticed mamma. She was looking at the man as well.

Despite everything that had happened, she was smiling.

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

Note : Regarding Vinnie being trans, I’m well-aware that someone doesn’t “become” a boy, they’ve always been one. But since Vinnie is 5 when he realizes that he’s a man, the characters simplify it to “becoming a boy” so that Vinnie can understand easily.

Italian translations :

Mamma : mom

Papà : dad

Piccolina : little one (female)

Polpetto : meatball (apparently it’s a nickname for young kids/siblings)

Patatino : little potato (for some reason I love this nickname)

Ometto : little man (ometti is plural)

Piccino : tiny one

[emmelineparker308]

Father Dearest Part 3

Fandom: Harry Potter: Golden Trio Era

Pairing: Harry Potter x reader

Summary: Your third year at Hogwarts is about to start and with it come a lot of new changes. Harry, your best friend and crush, is in trouble from some man named Sirius Black. You try desperately to keep Harry safe but what happens when you find out some heartbreaking, mind shattering information about your father?

Warnings: angst, self-deprecating thoughts

A/N: Enjoy! Please like and reblog if you like it!!

“Alright class, today we will talk about Boggarts,” Lupin’s voice was commanding and immediately all the side conversations died out. Looking around you could tell that some of the girls were clearly drooling over your father, a bit disgusted and oddly proud you paid attention to the words that were coming from his mouth. He pointed to a ratty wardrobe that was occasionally quivering as if the thing stuck inside was clamoring to get out. “Can anyone tell me what a Boggart looks like?”

 “No one knows,” Hermione answered after a pregnant pause. Ron jumped slightly at her answer not realizing that she was sitting behind him. “The Boggart changes its shape to whatever the person in front of it fears the most. Therefore, it is a shapeless creature.”

 “Excellent answer Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor,” he joyfully exclaimed. Seeing Moony genuinely happy almost brought tears to your eyes. You knew of the struggles, the self-hatred and the sadness that plagued most of his life. In your view he deserved the world and more, however this world was often times crueler to the innocent. “Alright everyone, put your books and quills away and stand in one line, we are all going to have a practical lesson.” There was some confusion etched into everyone face, in the three years you have been at Hogwarts never had you ever had a DADA class that was practical. There was the whole incident where Lockhart released a bunch of pixies on the classroom, but other than that this was going to be quite a new experience.

 “Now remember children, the spell the repels the Boggart is ‘Riddikulus’, and you must have a happy mind. The spell only does half of the work, laughing is what does the boggart in. You must make the boggart take on a shape that which you find most humorous. Repeat after me,” Remus taught.

 “Riddikulus,” you all repeated after him, slightly nervous and excited.

 As you were lining up Draco made some comment about the whole class being ‘Riddikulus’ “Mr. Malfoy since you seem to think that this class is a waste of time you may leave.” Remus stated without skipping a beat.

 Draco suddenly went very red in the face and grabbed his bag while muttering that that’s not what he meant. No matter how ridiculous he may think a class is everyone knew that Draco Malfoy strives to be the topper in each class.

 “Alright Neville. Why don’t you go first?” Remus called Neville forward after Malfoy left. Poor Neville who was trying to hide behind other students went up to Lupin with wide eyes. Before he opened the wardrobe, Remus whispered something into his ear. “Okay now, wand at the ready.”

 As the cupboard was opened, to no one’s surprise, Professor Snape came out, however before it could say anything Neville yelled “Riddikulus!” A deafeaning Crack sounded through the classroom and Professor Snape was wearing a green skirt and jacket with a hat decorated what looked like fake squirrels. Laughter filled the room, as Remus called Ron up to face the boggart next. Soon the room was filled with music and laughter. Dean, Seamus, Hermione, and Pravati faced the boggart successfully. As Harry faced the boggart it changed into a dementor. Just when you thought it was going to get Harry like it did on the train, he yelled the spell changing the dementor into a clown. Before you knew it, it was your turn. Remus watched you intently, you knew that he was dreading what your boggart would be, he obviously thought it was going to be a werewolf. It took a moment for the boggart to take form but when it did, it surprised all of you.

 A man that looked very closely to what you’ve always imagined your biological father to look like was standing in front of you. “I’ve never wanted you, you worthless piece of scum.” The boggart came stalking towards you with a knife in hand. You stood frozen in fear, forgetting all about the spell. Had Remus not stood between the boggart and you there would have been some serious damage done to your body. Remus was quick to yell ‘Riddikulus’, capture the boggart and dismiss class.

 You stood still, even as the classroom was emptying you were staring at the spot the boggart used  to be, your breathing was slowly getting out of control and your eyes were filling with water. “Come on (Y/N),” Harry placed his hands on your shoulder and turned you around forcing you to walk with him out the door. He, of course, knew not to ask any questions right now. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were the only ones in the school that knew of your past of how your father and mother had left you when you were a baby. They never thought anything less of you. In fact, Harry made it his mission to make you feel like you were worth the world. Something Remus very much approved of; Remus who had watched your interaction with the boggart was filled with guilt. He knew that you had some anger towards your birth parents for leaving you, but he had no idea that the little girl he raised like his own was suffering through this much. Tears filled his own eyes as he remembered the promise, he made all those years ago when he first held you. The promise he made that he would never let you feel unloved, that he would love you as a father and a mother, giving you all the care and love the fates cut you off from.

 The boys and Hermione got you to the Gryffindor Tower but even then, they weren’t able to make you talk. In fact, you hadn’t uttered a word since you saw that boggart. Hermione and Ron sat next to the fire, arguing about homework half hoping that you would speak just to intervene, but no such thing happened. Soon the students loitering around the common room made their way down to the Great Hall for dinner. Though Hermione tried to force you to come, you refused to get up from the armchair, she gave up the fight and promised to bring you some food. After double checking the common room to make sure that no one else was there, and for the first time since facing the boggart you allowed yourself to show emotions.

 The wall you built around your emotions exploded under the pressure. You wailed, pain coursing through your entire body. Without even realizing it you ended up on the floor, sobbing until your body gave out. However, you didn’t lay on the floor for long, because a warm, strong arm raised you from the floor and brought you into a hug. The overwhelming scent of vanilla and pinecones calmed you down almost immediately. He just held you not speaking, and more importantly not forcing you to speak. When your wails withered down to just sniffles, he let go of you, you wiped your face and sat in silence for a bit more.During this time Harry looked at you intensely and you looked at him. To others watching the scene unfold, it might have looked like two teens starting awkwardly at one another. But the truth was sometimes Harry and you didn’t need words to communicate. All you two had to do was look at each other and you would know what the other was trying to convey. This is one of the many reasons Harry was closer to you than any of your other friends. In this case Harry was desperately telling you that you were worth the world and that you shouldn’t let what the boggart said get to you. When you broke eye contact Harry couldn’t help but take his hand to your face and force you to look at him.

 “Don’t you think for a second that anything that boggart said is true,” he enforced. “I know that it was hard, I know that it still is hard for you to realize your worth. And I swear on Godric’s name, that I will spend a lifetime convincing you if that’s what it takes. Because (Y/N/N)  you are worth the world, to me you are worth more than anything this world has to offer. You’ve saved my life more times than I can count, you’ve made me feel loved and cared for, I trust you with my deepest secrets. I trust you with my life. When I’m with you, the pain of not having my parents around subsides. Do you really think that someone who is ‘scum’ and ‘not worthy of love’ is capable of making me feel this way?” he poured out his heart.

Neither of you realized it but with each word that Harry said you both drew closer and closer until your faces were but mere centimeters apart. And not only that tears were falling slowly from both of your eyes. You brought your foreheads together and stayed like that for a couple of minutes. Neither of you wanted to pull away, you saw Harry’s eyes dip to your lips as you pulled your forehead away from his. He looked into your eyes as if asking for permission, which you gave him immediately. His face was drawing nearer, but right as you felt his breath on your lips the common room swung open and just like that the moment evaporated.

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