#plus the bathroom has some clothes and some garbage in it and that needs to be taken care of first or i cant mop in there

[forestryfae]

i dont wanna clean my room but i want a clean room life is hell

[belphiesgirlfriend]

Judging Obey me! Brothers bedrooms/hcs cause why not

——————————————————————————

Lucifer:

• freakishly neat

• like you know those people that are so perfect/symmetrical that they’re almost scary, that’s his room

• type of guy to say “ah i was just tidying up, this place is such a mess!” and one thing on his desk is moved a centimeter to the left

• satan and belphie definitely come in there sometimes and move everything off by an inch

• it fucking enrages him

• he gets on the brothers asses to clean their rooms

• they don’t listen

• at most, if he’s drunk or had a really long day he might leave his clothes on the floor or his toothbrush out

• he’s such an old man he’d be doing math equations to fold his fucking sheets exactly

• really though, i feel like it’s a total control thing

• i mean my dudes entire life is out of his control, a pride demon, who’s very about control

• his brothers don’t really listen to him, he’s indebted to diavolo, etc.

• i think it probably brings him a lot of comfort to have one controlled space for himself, where he knows where everything is and has everything how he wants it

• sorry got a little deep but yk

• also???? the skeleton dude??????

• like i love him he’s iconic BUT WHY LMAO

• imagine you wake up in the middle of the night AND IT FUCKING MOVES

• nah i’d be packing my bags and staying at purgatory hall for the rest of the week thank you!

• coming back with a bible and some holy water

——————————————————————————

Mammon:

• complete and utter 180

• his room is such a mess it’s a problem

• plates, glasses, ramen cups, wrappers, all over his nightstand and floor

• when the garbage is going out he’ll come down the stairs balancing so much trash he could make a goddamn acrobat jealous😭

• only thing that’s truly spotless is his car

• if you nag him enough he’ll clean up a bit though, though definitely complain

• clothes are a whole other thing, he has an insane amount of clothing, not more than asmo, but a genuinely absurd amount

• because of this, his floor is always covered in clothes

• his room is probably one of the messiest, rivaled only by belphie

• but mammon definitely wins by a long shot

• the biggest reason his rooms a mess is just cause of the pure amount of stuff he has

• bros a grade A hoarder, he’s got stuff in there you didn’t even think existed

• he also just,, isn’t in his room super often

• he likes going out and doing stuff, plus he’s usually working jobs + modeling to fund his spending

• and if he’s not, then he’s probably in mc’s room so it makes sense he doesn’t care as much

• his bathroom though…is surprisingly clean

•on the surface at least

• he’s got a shit ton of skincare and hygiene products, some makeup too (definitelyyy not stolen from asmo)

• he’s a model so he definitely takes good care of himself

• though..i don’t think he’d ever deep clean his bathroom, or know to, if you asked him he’d be like “what no?? the sink cleans itself with the water!”💀

——————————————————————————

Levi:

• his room really isn’t all that dirty

• i mean he’s in there all the time so it’s at the very least habitable

• his biggest issue is really just having a bunch of dirty dishes he’s too “busy” to take down to the kitchen

• his idea of busy is being huddled up in blankets watching season 3 of “I’m a generic anime protagonist who just met a really pretty girl at school but i’m painfully socially awkward and then i find out she’s my childhood friend who moved away???”

• his figures though…

• shockingly well taken care of, like he’s literally the perfect owner he cleans and dusts them obsessively

• if anyone touches them, he knows.

• he has them positioned in a very specific way, he’s able to notice even the slightest discrepancy

• he’s a really good caretaker to the things he cares about

• henry 2.0 for example, his tank is always spotless, he’s well fed and treated very well.

• levi is also very hygienic, he takes good care of himself too generally,

• though he sometimes needs to be reminded to eat, drink, sleep, etc. cause of a new anime or game coming out

•when that happens he’s even more holed up in his room, if he’s close with the mc he might drag them with him, prepare yourself to be trapped in there

• his setup is godly, i don’t know much about pc building but i know he has the good shit

• you’ve seen his room, bro has 4 monitors WHO NEEDS THAT MANY?!?!?!?

• got the mic with the pop filter too you know he’s absolutely violating the other people in the cod lobby

——————————————————————————

Satan:

• messy, but not dirty

• cluttered would probably be the best word

• his main issue is just his INSANE amount of books and cat hair…lots of cat hair.

• when he’s fostering a cat his bed is covered in the stuff it’s horrible

• the cat may be cute but the full sized scarf you can make out of its hair sure isn’t!

• you better hope your mc isn’t allergic cause you literally won’t be able to enter his room if you are

• not to say he doesn’t clean it, cause he does, he has that sticky rolly thingy

•but i swear to god it’s like it’s glitter THERES ALWAYS MORE😭😭

• his books are a fucking hazard

• cause why are the stacks so high and so close to his bed💀

• i know for a fact they’ve collapsed on him while he was sleeping

• multiple times

• he’s learned not to keep any cursed books in the stacks by his bed as a result of this

• also with that fucking candle right there???????

• bro has no self preservation skills apparently

——————————————————————————

Asmo:

• goes without saying, he’s neat

• not a clean freak like lucifer, but he likes to have everything in order to make his life easier

• his makeup and skincare especially, he has a mini fridge for it and all

• an absurd amount of perfume too, his room is like a bath and body works but with more high end stuff

• this extends to his bags too, if your out or at RAD and need perfume he’s gonna pull out like 6 and be like “take your pick!”

• but back to his room, his room smells so fucking good

• it also just has a really calming energy, it’s very comfy

• he’s strict though, no outside clothes on his bed, shoes off at the door, etc. etc.

• there’s usually a lot of bags around from his shopping sprees

• type of dude to have a white noise machine or something when he sleeps just get that vibe from him

• another clutter guy, his room is one of the best with cleanliness, but there’s lots of stuff in his room, it’s cute though, he pulls it off

• i really don’t have any complaints about his room at all, it’s cute and clean so he gets a pass

——————————————————————————

Beel:

•hmmm

•i’m putting beel and belphie’s separate cause i’m criticizing their separate sides

• he’s not overly clean but not overly dirty either

• his room really is a perfect limbo

• except for his bed

• his bed is fucking disgusting

• i just know theres crumbs EVERYWHERE

• you lie in his bed and it makes a fucking crunch sound

• okay joking he’s not that nasty, i’m sure he’d probably change his sheets frequently

• if for no other reason, cause of belphie getting annoyed at him cause his beds uncomfy to lay on

• but with all the midnight snacking he does i would not be surprised if he brought half the fridge back with him at night

• his room itself i’m thinking is pretty clean, probably some clothes on the floor etc, but he never lets it get too bad

• unlike some people (i am staring directly at mammon and belphie)

• when he has his midnight escapades he pretty much always brings the dishes back in the morning so it’s not a huge problem.

——————————————————————————

Belphie:

• clothes everywhere

• him and mammon definitely are the worst offenders

• but listen he probably doesn’t let it get nearly as bad as mammons cause of him trying to be considerate of beel

• but if he was in a room alone…good god

• he just simply doesn’t have the energy to put shit away

• some things will sit on his floor for weeks, months, years, decades, before he moves it

• a lot of the time it winds up being beel who grabs his stuff and puts it where it’s supposed to be

• this is why he’s such a brat, always getting spoiled smh

• his bed though..

• the most comfortable thing you will ever have the privilege of laying on

• there’s so many blankets and a shitload of pillows, it smells good, ur instantly so warm and comfy and the mattress is so soft you literally sink into it

• it feels like you’re literally on a cloud you’ll never find a better sleeping spot

• no wonder he never wants to get up

• i cant help but think that the twins room is a little boring, so it’s hard to give a lot of commentary on it

• i wish there was more personality like with the other bedrooms in the HOL

• seriously though they gave them the 2017 opposite twins sims 4 speedbuild delux😭

——————————————————————————

[sinfully-chubby]

People Are Cruel - Loki x Plus Size/Chubby Reader

Can you make Loki imagine where the reader is very sad and not eating well. Loki becomes worried and consoles her. Thank you once again - @theyvaharthanisaravanan​

Warnings: Besides some background bullying, it’s mostly just fluff I guess, that or comfort.

Word Count: 1,067

Hi I’m sorry your request is coming so late. I feel when writing this it took a different direction which I hope you don’t mind. I really am sorry this is late I hope you enjoy the story as I hope everyone else will.

I will admit that I don’t like how this came out and will probably rewrite this at some point. I feel like its not as good as it could be.

*gif obviously not mine.

The change in your behavior did not go unnoticed by the trickster god himself. He noticed the way you had started keeping to yourself more and more. You could tell because in your mood you were not eating. Losing a small bit of weight in the process. He wasn't sure what had set you in your upset mood, but he was hoping to find out. You had been sad for almost a week. Loki always hated seeing you like this. He wish he knew what was upsetting you so he could get rid of the problem.

By any means necessary.

That day you had gone to work and not wanting to interrupt your work life or schedule, Loki decided to wait until you got home. Usually when you got home you would put your work stuff away change out of your work clothes, grab a pair of comfy clothes, and then hope in the the shower. He could wait at for a little while longer.

Hearing the lock of your apartment Loki stood and watched as you walked in. Walking towards you he smiles giving you a small greeting and kiss. on the forehead.

"Hello darling, how are you today?"

Shrugging your shoulders you give him a kiss to his cheek. Right now all you wanted to do was get cleaned up and crawl into your bed.

"It was ok. Just the same day in and day out stuff."

Brushing past Loki, he glares at you while you retreat away, he wants to stop you but he doesn't. He goes into the room once he knows your in the shower. Sitting himself on you shared queen sized bed. Hearing the shower turn he stands as hears you move around in the bathroom for a bit before coming out. You must have brought your outfit into the bathroom cause he sees you walk out in a pair of shorts and a tank top. Looking right at you, you stare back not wanting to say anything in that moment.

Exhausted and tired after a very stressful day at work always made you shut down over time. But work had been getting tougher. It had all started when you got promoted instead of your colleague. The colleague in question was a close friend of yours, and because of the promotion a huge fall out happened causing your ex-friend and other colleague's to make your job harder by not doing what the were supposed to do and harassing you.

Today had been the worse with two of your coworkers having put in your locker a bunch of garbage stating 'pig's eat this.' your lunch had been thrown away so you basically went another day without eating. You had reported there actions for the fifth time.

Between the bouts of harassment and depressive episode you had started feeling bad about yourself. Started eating less and shutting down around the one (somewhat) stable person in you life.

Seeing the look on Loki's face you curl up a bit, wishing he wouldn't ask about your change in behavior. Pushing past Loki once more, you lie down on the bed.

"Y/n please don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

Even to your own ear it didn't sound convincing. The look in Loki's eyes confirmed he didn't believe it either. Sitting down on the bed next to you curled up legs, Loki stares down at you with a weird look in his eye's.

"Who has hurt you darling."

You feel tense, you were always an open book when it came to things with Loki.

"It's nothing really."

Again still didn't sound convincing to either of you.

"If it was nothing y/n, then why do you insist on not eating, why do you close yourself off even from me?"

Hearing your stomach growl. Letting out a tired sigh you sat up pushing your legs up to rest your arms and face upon. Watching you move into the upright position Loki straightened up more waiting for your response. When you didn't say anything Loki leaned closer showing that he was waiting and listening. He was here if you needed comfort.

"It's alright love, you know that right."

You nod your head, so getting the courage you at up knees still to your chest and told him what had been happening.

"At work I was promoted."

Loki nods.

"I remember you telling me about it. What does this have to do with you not eating?"

Giving yourself a moment to think on how to word this without Loki blowing up and trying to well destroy those at your work place. Because even though they have become tormentors, they were once your friend.

Plus you would miss Loki if he had to be thrown into prison.

"Well because of my promotion I've been dealing with, backlash is what I guess you could say."

Looking confused for only a second, Loki's expression changed to one of anger.

"Your telling me the people are upset because you have moved up."

Nodding your head yes. Loki took in a deep breath and laid his hands upon your shoulders and bring his head closer so that your foreheads were touching.

"You listen tome y/n what they say or do to you is nothing. People who are bitter over someone else's happiness are usually bitter with themselves."

Nodding your head you give a small smile.

"Thank you."

"Of course darling anything for you. But you do need to eat something you've not been eating a lot and I do worry."

Nodding your head you both here your stomach growl Standing from the bed Loki leaves the room. Hearing some clattering coming from the kitchen, you watch as Loki walks back in with a small sandwich. You figured it was either a turkey or ham sandwich something small for you to eat after a week of not eating well or at all. Handing the sandwich to you Loki gives a small smile.

"I love you y/n, and if those awful creatures that call themselves human beings ever try something again I will not hesitate to eradicate them from existence."

Chocking on your sandwich a bit you nod your head. Loki always was the best thing that ever catapulted into your life.

[noritoshiikamo]

Headcanons for the cursed womb siblings when they ship you and choso please 🌝 but choso is like a “job first, love later” kind of guy. He is responsible👏 He wants to support his siblings first👏 But they want nothing more than for their brother to have a lover.

modern au! office worker choso x reader no warning, just fluff. death painting brothers are normal humans, choso is just oblivious, reader is in love anywaysssss okay, i know it said headcanon but i went overboard and i cant help it anymore, choso brainrot tagging: @booksweet , @fushigurocockslut, @lazy10ieiri, @sassyeahhhh, @cotton-curse, @thevoidwriting, @dukinaxael

- job first, love later

you were the first girl choso ever brought home.

except it was by accident. your car had broken down in front of the office and you being typically you, had no idea what had happened to your shit car. “stupid, stupid!” you cursed, opening the front of your car, watching as puff of smoke escaped. you panicked, you never had anyone told you what to do with your car and such.

you were the only child in your family, your mother passed away when you were just a child and your father disappeared. you were sent away to a distance relative, the gojo where you grew up with satoru and his adoptive brother, megumi. but they are useless as a lump of coal. “y/n, are you okay?” you whipped up your head, wiping the dripping sweat off your worried head as you were greeting by a familiar face.

“oh, choso, thank god, do you know anything about car? i cant figure out why wont it start,” you cried clutching on his white sleeve before shrieking. you watched at your fingers left black smudges on his shirt, panicked overwhelmed you as you realised you just ruined the chance for help by ruining your savior’s shirt. but choso only laughed, brushing your panicked look aside and handed you his briefcase. “how long has it been like this?” he asked as he rolled his sleeves, you shrugged. “10 minutes? i think.”

“do you have any cloth i can use to check the coolant?” he asked. you nodded and headed to back, throwing the briefcase in the backseat. coming back with an old rag, you were surprise when choso grabbed your wrists. your face warmed up as he twisted and turned your hand, “did the steam hit your hand?” he asked, glancing up to your face. you shook your head and handed him the cloth. you watched as he did his thing, in 5 minutes he had the engine running and the temperature meter down.

“please, cho, let me sent you home. as a thank you!”

he smiled, “you don’t have too, i can take the subway.”

“i insisted!” you exclaimed, “plus i have your briefcase! aha, you need it so if you want it you have to let me drive you home. please?” you insisted, throwing a puppy face as you clutched both hands to your chest. he exhale heavily, before holding out his hand. your brow shot up in confusion, you placed your hand on his larger palm. you looked up to the older man, a small smile on his face. he was holding his laugh. “your car keys, y/n. lemme me drive you home at least,” he clarified, causing you to mentally slap yourself. the keys exchanged hands and you get in the passenger’s seat. he's a careful driver, he used the blinker and didn’t speed, you felt instantly safe under his care.

“do you live alone, choso?” you asked your coworker. he shook his head, “i live with my younger brothers, eso and chizu. our parents died a long time ago.”

“oh, same. my parents died a long time ago. i’m their only child. my uncle took me in, he’s like a brother to me,” you explained, reminded of your childhood growing up with satoru. he might not be an ideal father figure but he loves you like his own sister. the car slowed down in front of block A of some apartment. “you live here?” you asked glancing around. his apartment is definitely on the lower class scale, the building looks like it could be hundred years old with the chipped paint.

“yeah, i’ve been raising my brothers alone. money’s a bit tight, they are still studying,” he explained grabbing his case from the back. “thank you for helping me with my car,” you stopped him, placing your hand on his, “please let me replace your shirt. just tell me the brand and i’ll buy a new one, i’m so sorry.”

choso offered her a smile, waving his hand dismissively. “it’s okay, i can get the grease off easily. i should thank you for the ride instead. i owe you for that.”

“in that case, can i see your home?”

choso looked at you in amusement, his hand reached forward to ruffled your head, “you’re weird, y/n. but okay. a cup of tea won’t hurt.” he was sure that none of his siblings are home, parked the car and let you trailed him as you both entered the lift up to the 5th floor. you didn’t seemed to be bothered by the surrounding, the stray cats and the random pile of garbage, eyes only trained on his back as you trailed him. his house were around the corner of the stairs, further from the elevator with number 532 on the blue door. he pulled out his keys but the door was already opened.

“chizu won’t throw out the trash,” a shirtless guy with a mohawk greeted them, he was instead more surprised to see you hiding behind the man, “oh, who is this?”

“my coworker. she drove me home, i offered her some tea. i thought you two aren't home, clearly i was mistaken,” he mumbled, annoyed that his brothers were actually home. he turned to you who was looking away, he could see speckle of warmth on your face. "y/n, this is eso. eso, go be a decent human being and put on some shirt," choso ushered the man away before calling you in. you could see panic in his face when eso instead announced that choso was bring his girlfriend home to the other brother.

you couldn't help but to laugh.

-

you stood in front of door 532 ringing the door bell.

you could hear some yelling. someone was telling to get the door, someone yelled that they were busy in the bathroom and someone was angry in the kitchen. you felt conscious, maybe this was a bad time. you placed the paper bag on the floor and prayed you can make it to the stair but door opened. a voice greeted you.

"y/n?"

your steps halted. you turned around, flustered that you got caught. choso stood by the door, apron covering half of his bare body with a spatula in the other. "uh hi, i was just here to drop you something," you pointed to the bag on the floor, absolutely refusing to look up, why is he being so attractive in that stupid apron for, you cussed, "i'm sorry for disturbing your sunday, i'll go."

"is that y/n?" a voice in the background called.

choso looked back and nodding, "yup, it is her." you could see the desperate look on his face before another head popped out from the door. it was his younger brother chizu. he took a bite of the pancake, a wide smile on his face, "what's up, big sis?" the boy with the blue hair greeted her. you shrugged, pointing to the bag that's now in choso's hand. "i was just dropping something, i don't want to disturb your sunday," you shook your head but chizu insisted that you stay for breakfast.

"come on big sis, choso rarely bring any girl over, it actually is exciting to finally talk to someone who isn't as annoying as eso," chizu laced his arm around yours and dragged you through the door. you look at choso for help, the man could only shoot you a sympathetic smile before shutting the door. he followed you, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen as he watched you sat by the table. eso started filling your plate with fresh batch of pancakes while chizu started talking about this band he started to listen. you listened to it attentively, thanking eso for the syrup before he took a seat beside you.

choso took a peak of the paper bag, a small smile on his face when he realised there's a brand-new shirt in it with a sticky note on top of it. i'm sorry, hope this one fits you- the note said. he looked up to back to the table, you started to look like you belong there. the house has always been empty, it was just him and his brothers. you're just like a bouquet of fresh flowers sitting in a vase in the middle of the table; breath of fresh air to the kusozu family.

"pancakes, choso?"

your voice disturbed his thoughts. "tchh, choso, why you're looking at y/n-chan like that?" eso threw a spoon playfully at the older sibling as he walked to the table, "say, y/n, choso didn't do anything sexual to you or anything right? as your brother i'm worried," your eyes widened as you choked on your drink. chaos ensued in the house as choso threatened to murder the middle child, chizu could only sit back and enjoyed as you tried to calm him down while eso's obnoxious laugh echoed the small apartment.

"you better apologize, you broomhead or i'll murder you!"

eso stuck out his tongue, dodging the flying cup, "never!"

-

"i got something for chizu. would you mind giving it to him?"

you peaked your head in his office, waving another paperbag in hand. choso took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose, "you don't have to spoil my brothers, y/n. they are already a brat without you." you rolled your eyes and placed the bag on his pile of paperworks. "my younger brother, gumi- he knew the band's drummer, y'know the band he's been talking about and got a signed album for me. i'm not a fan so i figured chizu would've enjoyed it better than me." he peaked through the paper bag, a small smile on his face as he thanked you. you both sat in silence, you felt like you were disturbing the man so you excused yourself.

"y/n," your hand froze on the handle, "how can i pay up for everything nice you've done to us? i feel like it's unfair that you're doing all this nice things and i don't want to owe you anything." your turn and watched as the man walked close to you. choso looks handsome as usual, the blue tie matched his eyes while his slightly longer hair is slicked back. you recognized the shirt he's wearing, you bought it for him and it was nice of him to wear it to work.

"would like to go for a coffee with me?" you asked boldly.

"it's a date."

-

"it's not a date," choso sighed, combing his hair back.

"it is," eso crossed his arms on his chest, "she asked for a coffee and you said it's a date. bro, it is a date." the younger brother shook his head, motioned for him to part his hair. "slicked back make you look like you're going to office, yuck. if we wanna impressed big sis, you gotta look better than this."

"it's still not a date," choso protested, "it's just a coffee meet up."

the doorbell rang.

"yeah, it's not a date when you spend an hour worrying over your hair, cho," chizu ran to the front door, waiting at the door was you. you didn't have to go up and fetch him at the door, but you actually enjoyed meeting his brothers you didn't mind the hassle anymore. "damn, y/n, you dress better when you're not going to office," chizu complemented you. you could only shake your head, pocketing your hands in the plaid skirt that fell just at your knees, "i only dress up to important stuff, job sucks ass, i ain't spending my good outfits going to work," you kicked off your boots and walked in.

"you listen to that cho, at least she knew that this that is important!"

your eyes widened at his word and the younger brother dodged your fist easily. choso peaked through the door, a smile grew on his face when his eyes caught yours, "huh, i didn't realise we are going to colour coordinate," he said, stepping out. you realised that you both had accidentally matched each other's outfit, speckles of warmth spread all over your face when you noticed how it looks like. chizu, being the loose lip took the words right out of your head, "you both look like you're dating."

"we are not dating!" both of you exclaimed immediately only for eso and chizu to share a look.

"stop that," choso warned, disappearing into the kitchen, "tea, y/n?" you yelled a yes before following him. "don't mind them, they are being an idiot." you watched as he poured sugar in a cup with teabag, before putting the kettle on. "i don't mind," you shrugged it off, fidgeting nervously with the corner of your blouse. the comforting silence that engulfed both of you were short lived.

"oh, choso, i actually want to tell you that i like you!"

chizu's soft voice easily imitated your voice, something you took offended off. you turned around to see the two brothers perched on the kitchen hatch. "i do not sound like that!" you gasped. it was eso's turn, coming through with his rendition of choso.

"oh, y/n! i like you too, but i'm just dumbass and refuse to admit my feeling!"

"i will not hesitate to sent you back to mom and dad," choso warned.

"i also think that eso is way good looking that i am, but i'm scared that he will swoop you away from me," eso continued, at this point even you couldn't hold your laughter as you pressed your palm over your mouth. "what you laughing for, y/n?" choso's eyes narrowed as he glanced at you, huffing in annoyance. "hey! don't be mad at me for laughing, he did it well." you could see his own cheeks growing redder and redder with every mocking.

"go away, boys," you shushed them, walking to choso's side as he poured the hot water in the cup. resting against the counter, you thanked him when the cup exchanged hands, looking down on the swirling liquid that you didn't realise choso's fingers hooking under your chin, tilting your face up. all you realised was his soft lips against yours.

you are kissing your coworker in his kitchen.

"cho-" you whispered between the kiss but he hushed you, his hand now resting against your waist pulling your closer, deepening his kiss, "don't mind them." you tasted like your chapstick, his kiss was soft but it was enough to leave you breathless in his arms. you look in each other's eyes, a new realization to what had just happened had you both flustered.

"god, if our shit imitation would've finally made you both realise that you two dumbass like each other, we would've done this months ago," eso snickered. the two brothers had moved from the hatch to the table, heads resting on hands watching the new lovebird. "would you mind waiting for 5 minutes while i murder my brother? i promise it won't take long, then we'll continue with our date," choso asked quietly, brushing a stray hair off your cheek as you brought the mug to your lips, hiding the small smile behind the cup as you nodded. you watched amusingly, sipping on your tea as the two brothers ran around the small apartment, yelling profanities while chizu hugged you.

"welcome to the family, big sis."

you ruffled his blue hair, your cheeks hurt but you just couldn't stop smiling, "if it wasn't to you, i don't think i wouldn't even dare to speak my feelings. so, thank you. the voice acting was shit tho."

"you thank us, you hate us, geez, big sis, make up your mind," chizu teased you, winking as he brushed it off as a joke, "you help us a lot, i never seen choso so happy before. he worries a lot. about us, money. it was good sometimes to see him put himself first," chizu shrugged, cheek resting on your shoulder, "we survived before, we'll survive now. choso has nothing to worry about. you too, we are alright, okay?"

you nodded, resting your cheek on his head, heart overwhelmed with love for you newly found family, you felt belonged here.

[and-it-freezes-me]

Little Red Lies - Chapter 1

Or, AUgust 2021 Day 10 - Fake Dating

{Next}

Words: 5,439

[Booked tckts yet? virge wants 2 check u still need 2 places 4 reception dinner]

Trash Rat 22:57

[cant w8 2 meet ur new ~date~]

Trash Rat 22:58

Roman stared at the messages for several long seconds, then groaned.

[Of course I booked tickets. Yes I still need the +1 seat.]

Roman 23:04

[cant believe u havent even sent a pic or yk a name]

Trash Rat 23:06

[no shame if ur still </3 ovr remy]

Trash Rat 23:06

[even tho its been 2 yrs now]

Trash Rat 23:07

[Of course I’m over remy. You’ll meet my boyfriend when we get there. He’s shy.]

Roman 23:07

Roman seriously considered throwing his phone across the room and booking a plane ticket to Alaska rather than Manhattan. That way, he wouldn’t have to go to his brother’s wedding and admit that he was most definitely single and most definitely not over his ex boyfriend (of seventeen months - two years was an unfair exaggeration).

[u kno virge h8s not knowing whos coming to his wedding right]

Trash Rat 23:10

[I know, I know, I’ll apologise as soon as we get there. He’ll be first to meet my bf, promise.]

Roman 23:11

[book ur fuckin plane tckts ro, I know u didnt do it yet]

Trash Rat 23:11

Roman threw his phone across the room.

It bounced off of his Heathers poster and landed on his desk, which was covered in scripts, textbooks, empty takeout containers, balled up bits of paper, crumpled drinks cans, and pens, and Roman buried his face in his pillow and groaned.

Ten months ago, Roman’s sister had flown down to Los Angeles, dragged Roman out of bed and announced that he was actually Roman’s brother. Almost sooner than Roman had been able to take this in stride, Virgil had added that he was marrying his boyfriend in December and would Roman mind being one of his groomsmen? While Roman was still reeling from the bombshell that was the fact that their gremlin of an elder brother Remus was Virgil’s best man, Virgil had leaned forward and asked if Roman was doing alright because he couldn’t help but notice that his dorm room resembled ‘the result of an explosive going off in a pigsty’.

Roman had blinked dumbly at him, nodded, and then started pressing for details about Virgil’s wedding. Eventually, his brother had promised that he’d get Patton, his fiance, to call Roman to discuss every detail, from location to napkin frills, and Roman felt that he had managed to avoid the topic of how he was doing.

When he and Remy had first broken up, midway through last July, Roman had gone to pieces. He had spent the end of the summer holiday between his first and second years locked in his room and listening to the same few songs on loop until Virgil, who was three years older and had been packing his things to move into his new apartment, had put his fist through the wall between their rooms. Then Roman had put his headphones on. It wasn’t Virgil’s fault that he was too uncivilised to appreciate the wonders of ‘Michael In The Bathroom’, ‘Someone You Loved’, or ‘Impossible’, after all.

Then Roman had gone back to university, where he had tried to drown himself in reading for his degree, and instead ended up sleeping through lectures after all-night crying sessions. He had tried to submerge himself in his essays and instead ended up daydreaming about his ex-boyfriend in study sessions. He had tried to get involved in theatre productions, but every audition had gone sour, and he often ended up thinking about the few times he and Remy had met up over the previous year rather than learning his lines.

Everyone had said that long distance relationships would be hard, but Roman, the romantic fool that he was, had insisted that they could do it.

They couldn’t.

Eight months ago, nine months after the two of them had broken up, two months after Virgil had announced his wedding plans, Remus and his partner had flown into Los Angeles and tried to stage an intervention. This had involved Remus trying to seduce the campus security guard and almost getting reported to the police (Roman had always insisted that his mustache only made him look sketchy), followed by Janus sneaking past the pair of them and into the building. Remus had somehow managed to join him moments later, and the two of them had somehow made their way up to Roman’s floor without alerting anyone else of their presence.

Roman had been woken by a furious hammering at his bedroom door at a little after four in the morning, and had to wade through a mess of papers and laundry to find that the two of them had knocked on every single door on his corridor, unable to remember which was his. He had not been popular with his dormmates the next day.

Their intervention had involved sitting on Roman’s bed and sharing the leftover pizza that had been on Roman’s desk for the last three days, and telling him to wash the dirty clothes all over his floor. Then they had tried to persuade him to accompany them to a bar to hook him up with somebody, and Roman had quickly concluded that the pair was somewhat drunk.

He had vehemently refused, and when Janus had eventually rolled onto his back, dark hair dangling off the edge of the bed and onto the sticky patch of carpet that Roman had spilled soda on three weeks ago, he practically whined that Roman was being very difficult when all they were doing was trying to help him.

“Trying to help me? You’ve disturbed the people I live with at fuck-o’clock in the morning! I have class tomorrow!” Roman was sat at his desk chair, trying very hard to ignore the stack of textbooks he was supposed to have read and hadn’t.

Remus rested a hand on Janus’ hip to stop him from rolling off the bed, and raised a lazy eyebrow at him. “Cut the bullshit, little bro. We all know you haven’t been to class in… How long, Jan?”

“Two months, three weeks, and four days,” Janus sing-songed.

“How the fuck do you know that?” It sounded about right, anyway, and Roman had a feeling that if he denied it this would just take even longer. He spun around in his chair and picked up a pen from his desk. “It’s my business if I don’t go to class.”

“Called my sister. Jannie takes all your classes, you know…” There was the sound of shifting fabric, and when Roman glanced back, Janus was sitting up and tucked under Remus’ arm again, looking very much as though Remus had just placed him there.

“You’re right, Ro. It’s not my business if you’re not going to class.” One of Remus’ hands trailed slowly up and down Janus’ arm, so casually Roman could almost believe that his brother didn’t realise he was doing it. “But it is my business that my little brother isn’t taking care of himself anymore. You haven’t answered my calls since before winter break. You obviously haven’t been eating healthily - this pizza tastes like you fished it out of the garbage, by the way, and I would know - and you look as though you haven’t seen the sunlight since last July.”

The assessment wasn’t quite fair. Roman might have been skipping classes, but it wasn’t as though he had just been lying in his room and wasting away! “I went to the gym last week. And I auditioned for the musical in March. I’m fine, Remus! Can I go to bed now?”

“No! We’re going to a club!”

Janus had nodded enthusiastically at Remus’ words, then rested his head on his partner’s shoulder as Roman shook his head slowly. “I don’t want to go to a club. I want to go to bed. I have class tomorrow.”

“Nope.” Remus’ hand rose to tangle absently in Janus’ hair. “We’re going to a club, and you’re gonna find some hottie to fuck all the yearning for Remy right out of you. Then you’ll feel much better!”

“You’re pulling my ha-”

“Fuck no. We’re not doing that.” Roman pressed his palms into his eyes, then stood up and jerked his door open. “Can you go now?”

“Give me one good reason why you getting laid is a bad thing right now, Ro, and we’ll leave.” Roman had gotten as far as opening his mouth before Remus interrupted. “See? You can’t. You need to move on, man. Clinging to Remy is clearly unh-”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“-ealthy, and- What?”

Maybe it was because it was four in the morning. Maybe it was because Roman hadn’t been sleeping well anyway, and Remus had managed to step on the last of his fraying nerves. Maybe it was just because he wished it was true.

“I have a boyfriend,” Roman repeated, and felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the obvious shock on Janus’ usually impassive face. “Three months. Met just after term started. It’s pretty serious, actually.”

“Bullshit.” Remus looked half impressed.

Now it was irritation that flickered through Roman. Was it really so unbelievable that he could have found somebody else? “It’s not.”

“You fucked yet?”

“Remus…” There was a warning note in Janus’ voice, and Remus sighed.

“None of my business. Got it. Do we get to meet him?”

“He’s shy.”

“Which is another way of saying he doesn’t exist.”

“Asshole. It’s another way of saying that it’s four in the fucking morning and he’s asleep. You’ll meet him at the wedding, anyway - I’m going to ask him to be my plus one when Patton sends out the RSVP date.” The words had been out of his mouth before he had had time to regret them, and Roman had spent the last eight months trying to sidestep questions about his non-existent boyfriend.

He had later found out that Remus and Janus hadn’t really come down to see him. They had gone to Los Angeles to celebrate their two year wedding anniversary and decided they might drop in while in the area. (Just because they had eloped rather than holding a big party, Janus had commented idly, didn’t mean they couldn’t celebrate it).

But now it was December, and Roman was partner-less and running out of excuses. His lie had gotten out of control, and he had ended up asking Patton and Virgil to include his partner in the guest numbers. He had invented dates they had been on for his mother when she had asked, and he insisted that his boyfriend was shy and had practically no internet presence anyway, so knowing his name wouldn’t help anybody.

He could just say that the two of them had broken up and go home alone, of course.

But that would mean disrupting the meticulous wedding seating plan Virgil and Patton had been making for months.

Besides, Roman was fairly certain that nobody in his family really believed in his mystery boyfriend, and failure to produce one after months of insisting that they would meet… Well, he didn’t want to open himself to that sort of ridicule.

Of course, it didn’t look as though he had much choice.

He hadn’t managed to make many friends at college.

In his first year, Roman had spent a lot of time trying to keep on top of his schoolwork and working toward the various theatre productions the school had put on; all of his free time he had spent planning dates for when he and Remy finally visited one another, or else video calling his boyfriend. There simply hadn’t been time to make many friends during that.

His second year… Well, Remus had been right. He had spent most of his time in his room, eating junk food, watching sappy romance films, and missing Remy.

So far, he had spent his third year trying to bring his grades back up to something more respectable… And missing Remy.

He knew it was pathetic. It had been almost a year and a half since they had broken up, and he still missed being able to call someone to talk about nothing at all at two in the morning, missed planning extravagant dates, missed the feel of hands in his hair and lips on his.

At least his floor was cleaner than it had been last year. And he had eaten slightly less fast food this semester than the previous one.

Roman’s phone chimed again. With a frustrated groan, he made his way over to his desk.

[Looking forward to seeing you on Monday!!! <3 <3 <3 !!!]

Pops 23:25

Patton.

[Me too, Padre! I’ll bring some of that fudge from the shop you love!]

Roman 23:26

[eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee <33333333 Can you get some of the currents+salt? Vee loved it last time + I want to surprise him]

Pops 23:26

[Will do. Looking forward to seeing you too!]

Roman 23:27

Patton would probably be the most understanding if Roman decided to come clean about his lying - but Patton was the worst secret keeper Roman had ever met. He and Virgil had been dating for almost three years, and in that time the thin voice actor had managed to spill every single plot twist in every single show he had watched or acted in. Roman had no doubt that Virgil would know that he was bringing home fudge within the next hour. If he admitted to Patton that he had been lying about having a date for the wedding, Roman would get Patton’s kind - if confused - reassurances, and half an hour later he would get the mixture of mockery and horrible pity that would come with the rest of his family finding out that he still wasn’t over Remy.

Roman let his phone slip through his fingers and land on his desk once more. Three days, and then he’d have to come clean - until then, he could just avoid thinking about it. Collecting the overflowing basket from the corner of the room (he had been putting off doing laundry for a while now), Roman left his room and headed toward the building’s basement laundry room. Term had finished last week and it was almost midnight - he doubted anybody would be down there now. Most people had probably already gone home, or were making the most of the free time to go out rather than spend it doing chores.

The light was off in the basement when he got there, so Roman left it that way as he loaded his clothing into one of the machines.

Moving around in the dark was far more of a Virgil move than a Roman one, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something comforting about the-

“Sweet fucking Shakespeare!” Roman’s hand flew up to cover his eyes as light burst through the small room, quickly followed by the strong smell of coffee.

“Sorry! I was unaware that there would be anybody in here.” As Roman dropped his hand, blinking owlishly in the sudden light, the newcomer made his way over to the machine on the far side of the room from him. “Most people prefer not to fumble around in the dark.”

Remus or Remy would have made some comment about how fumbling around in the dark could be quite fun really. Roman just shrugged. “It’s been a long day.”

He had expected the other man to say something; instead, silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of the powder tray being opened, filled, and closed again.

Roman didn’t mean to stare, but he couldn’t help it. He had seen the person in the room next to him only twice so far this term, and only knew his name because the mailroom was organised by room number rather than alphabetically, and the name Roman Prince was right next to Logan Ursa.

Logan looked more tired than he had on either of the other times Roman had seen him. There were deep bags under his eyes, the shadows almost deeper than Virgil’s had been at the height of his eyeliner experiments, and the black ponytail that hung halfway to his waist was missing, replaced with what could only be described as a thicket of tangled hair. It looked as though he had been outside even less than Roman had in the past few months: his skin was so pale it seemed to glow under the fluorescent laundry-room lights. There was a steaming mug and a thick book on the lid of the machine beside him, and Roman had the strong feeling that it wasn’t the first coffee Logan had had that evening.

The washing machine Logan had been loading began to rumble, and as the other student straightened up and picked up his book, Roman made himself duck back down to finish his own task.

He’d have to come back to collect his clothing later - Roman suddenly regretted deciding to get this done now, when it meant he would have to return at almost two in the morning, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

“Do you want me to leave the light on?” He was more trying to make conversation than anything else: Logan was perched on one of the machines in the corner, nose already buried in what Roman could now see was a heavy medical textbook.

“Obviously.” 

Yeah, he probably should have guessed that.

-

Logan was still in the laundry room when Roman returned to collect his clothing two hours later. He was still sat on the same machine, although now he was speaking into his phone in what sounded like rapid Italian. (It definitely wasn’t Spanish: Roman was almost fluent in Spanish). (The languages were similar, but although he could guess at a few words, he had no idea what was going on). (Not that he was eavesdropping, of course). Logan’s hair was even messier than it had been before, and out of the corner of his eye Roman caught him jerking his free hand through it once or twice.

Roman pulled his now-warm and dry clothing from the machine and dumped it into his laundry basket, doing his best to ignore the way Logan was practically shouting behind him, but couldn’t stop himself from startling at the wordless, frustrated yell that came from the taller man a few minutes later. He was halfway to the door, but paused and glanced at Logan, who was stuffing his phone angrily into the oversized hoodie he was wearing.

“Everything okay over there?”

“Family stuff,” came the snappish response. Roman watched for a few seconds as Logan knelt in front of his own machine and began jerking clothing from it, folding pants as though he wished he were ripping them to pieces instead, then throwing several dark shirts over his shoulder and stalking over to one of the ironing stations.

“Pretty loud family stuff,” Roman commented, then wondered why he was bothering. It had been clear from his first meeting with Logan that the other student wasn’t there to make friends: Roman had been carrying a large cardboard box into his room the day he had moved in, and bumped into him in the hallway. Logan had looked him up and down, said something like, “Keep the volume down. I’m here to work,” and marched past him as though Roman were no more interesting than a hat stand.

Sure enough, Logan didn’t turn to face him, instead ironing a shirt in a manner that strongly hinted that he wanted to make it beg for mercy. “None of your business family stuff.”

“Are you-”

“None. Of your. Business.” This time, Logan actually did glance over his shoulder, and fixed Roman with a scowl that suggested that if he didn’t drop it, his face was going to be the next thing under the iron.

Roman left quickly. He had done his best to be friendly, and if Logan wasn’t interested, that was his problem. He didn’t seem like the sort of person Roman would really want to be friends with anyway.

Logan’s haggard expression lingered in his mind as he made his way back up to his dorm room and began stuffing his now-clean clothes into his wardrobe. He should probably start packing - his suitcase was sitting open and empty against one wall - but he had plenty of time.

Besides, he was exhausted.

Roman had changed into a pair of sweatpants and gotten into bed by the time he heard the door to the room next to his slam shut. Clearly, Logan was still annoyed by whatever ‘family stuff’ had had him first yelling into his phone and then taking his frustration out on his laundry and somebody trying to be friendly.

How long could Logan hold a grudge? Was he the kind of person who would calm down after a couple of hours of sleep, or would whatever he had been arguing about be hanging over him for the next week or so? That would make the winter break uncomfortable…

Or maybe he wasn’t going home. He had looked pretty invested in the textbook he had been studying earlier, despite it being almost midnight and no longer termtime. Maybe Logan was going to stay in the dorms over the winter break and use the hours without lectures for private study.

That sounded like a lonely way to spend the next three weeks.

The idea struck Roman suddenly, and he sat bolt upright in bed, the kind of elation that only comes with golden inspiration coursing through him. He would persuade Logan to come back home with him for the holidays! If Janus took it to mind to ask Janine about him, she’d be able to verify that Logan didn’t socialise much; all he would have to do would be show up briefly for the wedding, and he could spend the remainder of the holiday studying all he wanted, away from ‘family stuff’!

He would ask Logan the following morning, and when he agreed, Roman would book the plane tickets home - he’d pay, of course. Or rather, he’d use the money his mother had sent him so that he could bring his fictional boyfriend home. Either way, Logan wouldn’t have to spend any money himself!

Laying back down, Roman pulled his thin blanket back up to his neck and rolled onto his side, satisfaction warming him more thoroughly than any hot drink could.

This was the best idea he’d ever had.

-

“That is the worst idea I have ever heard.” Logan glanced into the hallway over Roman’s shoulder as though expecting an audience for a practical joke. “I cannot believe you have wasted my time listening to you.”

“Is… That a maybe?” Roman tilted his head and gave Logan his best puppy eyes.

Alas, Logan’s heart must have been made of stone. “No.” He made to slam the door.

Well, Roman couldn’t have that. It had been difficult enough to get Logan to even open the door in the first place, and harder still to get him to listen beyond the initial “I need you to do me a huge favour, okay, but it works out for you too.” In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have led with that. But then he had explained, and for some reason Logan was still trying to close the door on him.

“Ow!”

“That was entirely your fault.”

“You just slammed the door on my foot!”

“You did put your foot there after I had begun closing the door. My point stands.”

Technically, Logan was correct, but Roman wasn’t there to quibble over technicalities. “You got the part where I’d pay for your flights, right? All you have to do is show up for one day in something resembling formalwear, and in return you get rent free accommodation and food all holiday! Plus company!”

“I have too much to do to pretend to be your boyfriend for three weeks for no reason. Find somebody else.” Logan made to close the door again, and this time Roman caught it with his hand.

“There is nobody else!” Roman was aware that he was beginning to sound desperate. “You’re like, the only person I know!”

“That sounds like your personal problem, not mine.” Several strands of hair had fallen from the impressive tangle around Logan’s ears and into his face, and he blew them out of the way. His breath smelled like coffee - bitter coffee. Roman wrinkled his nose. “Let go of my door.”

“Come on, Logan! What else are you going to be doing this holiday?”

“Studying! I have exams to pass!”

“You can study at my place. You won’t have to pay holiday rent there!”

“I won’t have to pay holiday rent if I go to my mom’s place, either! Let go of my door!”

Roman finally pulled his aching foot out of the way, but didn’t remove his hand from the wood. “You don’t want to go back to your mom’s place, though, do you? The phonecall -”

The glare that Logan sent him could have frozen the insides of a volcano, and his voice was suddenly cold enough to make Roman shiver. “Good day, Roman.” This time, Roman jerked his hand out of the way, and the door snapped shut in his face.

Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to use Logan’s ‘family stuff’ against him. He made a note of that for future reference, then hammered against the door again.

“Please, Logan!”

Silence.

“I’ll be forever in your debt!”

More silence. Maybe Logan would prefer something a little more extravagant?

“I’ll sing of your virtues from the rooftop every night for the rest of the year!”

Nothing.

Okay, maybe that had been a little much. Logan had made it clear that he was there to work and didn’t want to be disturbed in his caffeine fueled study crusades, so something excessive was possibly the wrong way to persuade him to do this.

Oh-

“I’ll pay for your coffee for the rest of the year?”

Roman held his breath and waited.

And waited.

Just when he thought that he had been wrong and that Logan really wasn’t going to be persuaded, the door opened the tiniest of amounts. Logan was still frowning at him, but some of the ice was gone from his expression.

“That’s your dealbreaker? Coffee?”

“I drink a lot of coffee.” A slight deepening in the crease between Logan’s eyes told Roman not to push the subject. “You need a date to a wedding. In return, you pay for my flight there and back, provide accommodation for the duration of the winter vacation, and keep me supplied with coffee for the rest of the year.”

“Well, a wedding, the reception, any pre-wedding parties, and keeping up the act while we’re around other people,” Roman corrected, counting on his fingers. From the irritated twitch of Logan’s left eye, he got the feeling that he hadn’t mentioned the reception or the potential stag night in his initial pitch.

“Blue Moon or Red Planet.”

“What?”

“The coffee. I like Blue Moon or Red Planet coffee. They’re more expensive, so I don’t expect them every time - maybe a ratio of three regular jars to one nice jar.”

Roman blinked. “Uh… Okay.”

Logan nodded once. More hair fell over his eyes. “I’ll draw up a schedule and provide you with estimated projections of my coffee habits for the rest of the year so you can budget accordingly. When do we leave?”

“Um… Monday.” Still reeling from Logan’s sudden and complete 180, Roman cast around for something to say, but the long haired man got there first.

“Monday. That gives us approximately two and a half days to draw boundaries and fabricate enough pictures and stories to give our deceit credibility.” Logan closed his eyes, and Roman realised that he was staring again. He hadn’t expected the other to take this in stride so quickly. “Given that I have work to finish today and you will likely need several hours on Sunday evening to pack… Have you told your family how long we have been romantically involved?”

“Uh, since January. But I told them you were shy, so we don’t have to have any pictures or anything - we can say that all our dates were just pizza and Netflix, and…” He tailed off at the incredulous look on Logan’s face. “What?”

“You expect them to believe that we have been dating for eleven months and you haven’t taken a single photo? Roman, I have listened to you belting the lyrics of more break-up songs than I care to count.” Roman shrugged, and Logan rolled his eyes. “You are quite clearly a romantic. Had we really been dating, the number of pictures you would have taken on whatever extravagance you planned for our six-month anniversary alone would be infinitesimal.”

He had a point.

Roman had already stretched his family’s belief in him to breaking point (and probably well past it) by refusing to share even the smallest thing about his ‘boyfriend’ over the past eleven months; if he didn’t get home on Monday with at least a couple of dozen photos to share, their charade would be over before it could ever really begin. “Right. You’re right. We’ll need to spend the weekend planning, doing a photoshoot - it’ll be fun!”

“You,” Logan started, already retreating, “obviously have a different definition of that word than I do. Eight thirty tomorrow morning, The Roost. Bring a notepad, your phone, and a couple of changes of clothing suitable for various weather conditions.”

“Eight thirty? A prince needs his beauty-”

“Eight thirty. We are going to do this properly.”

Roman’s phone was in his hand barely seconds after Logan’s door had closed (albeit more gently than before).

Groupchat: Princes and Co.

[Can’t wait for you to meet logan!]

Roman 09:58

[a name!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[we have a name!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[such a nice name! can’t wait either, ro!]

Pops 10:01

[About time! I’ve been stalling on the place settings for weeks waiting for this name]

Emo Nightmare 10:02

[Was about to fly out to LA to strangle it out of you]

Emo Nightmare 10:04

[he was. i had to physically restrain him from doing so yesterday]

Padre 10:04

[bet u both enjoyed that ;);););););)]

Trash Rat 10:04

Several people are typing…

[Suck a dick, Remus]

Emo Nightmare 10:05

[we did, actually]

Pops 10:05

[would but janjans at work :((]

Trash Rat 10:06

[Didn’t want to know, didn’t need to know.]

Roman 10:06

[Pat!]

Emo Nightmare 10:06

[Logan Ursa??? 4th yr medic??? Coffee addict???]

Snake Eyes 10:06

Roman stared at his phone for a second. That was faster than he had expected.

[u knew????? jan u held out on me??? the luv of ur greyspec life???]

Trash Rat 10:07

[You told Janus?! I’m your brother! He’s not even related to you!]

Emo Nightmare 10:07

[No I didn’t tell Janus!]

Roman 10:07

[I’m omniscient.]

Snake Eyes 10:08

[Plus I just asked Jannie for a list of all the Logans you could have associated with.]

Snake Eyes 10:09

[You and your sister scare me]

Roman 10:11

[He has surprisingly little internet presence.]

Snake Eyes 10:11

[Told you. He’s shy]

Roman 10:12

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Roman returned to his room and picked up his laptop, this time to actually book the tickets he was supposed to have booked weeks ago. He had no doubt that they would arrive on Monday to discover that his family had already unearthed everything there was to know about his fake boyfriend - should he break that news to Logan before or after they were on the plane? Making the man paranoid might make their weekend photoshoot a lot more difficult.

Their photoshoot! If Logan was really on board, Roman would have to make this as easy as possible for him - and the performance of a lifetime for himself. Given that he was expected to bring a notebook to their meeting tomorrow, they were going to have to do a lot of brainstorming, so he might as well start coming up with ideas now. He already had a few as he grabbed a notepad from the mess on the floor and started hunting for a pencil.

No matter what his fake date said, this weekend was going to be a lot of fun.

[thewidowsghost]

The War Gone Wrong (Obviously) - Stark! Reader x Steve Rogers

This is written for @rogersrogers334​.

3rd Person POV

Tony and (Y/n) Stark, the father-daughter duo, stand in the shadows as a projection shows Maria, Howard, and a Younger Tony talking.

After the projected scene is over, both Tony and (Y/n) walk out, side by side, to the front of the stage.

"That's how I wished it happened," Tony says softly into the microphone. "Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing, or BARF."

"You really need a better acronym," (Y/n) teases which makes the crowd laugh for a minute or so before the attention turns to the two Avengers. "An extremely costly method of hijacking the hippocampus to . . . clear traumatic memories."

Tony blows out a candle, "Huh." The whole scene around Tony and (Y/n) dissolves. "It doesn't change the fact that my parents never made it to the airport . . . or all the things I did to avoid processing my grief, but . . ." Tony takes off his glasses. "Plus, six hundred eleven million dollars for my little therapeutic experiment? No one in their right mind would've ever funded it.

"Help me out, what's the MIT mission statement?" (Y/n)'s voice echoes through the hall now. "'To generate, disseminate, and preserve knowledge.' And work with others," she adds, "to bring it to bear on the world's great challenges."

"Well, you are the others," Tony picks up (Y/n)'s words - the two having rehearsed this. "And, quiet as it's kept . . . the challenges facing you are the greatest mankind's ever known."

"Plus," (Y/n) says, amusement lighting in her eyes, her voice taking on a teasing tone, "most of you are broke."

The crowd chuckles again and after a moment, Tony says, "Oh, I'm sorry. Rather, you were. As of this moment . . . every student has been made an equal recipient of the Inaugural September Foundation Grant. As in . . . all of your projects have just been approved and funded."

The crowd of college students breaks out in applause and cheers.

"No strings, no takes . . . just reframe the future!" (Y/n) says over the cheering. "Starting now!"

Above the audience, the teleprompter now reads: Tony: Now I would like to introduce the head of the Foundation, Pepper Potts

Tony stares at the words sadly and then says, "Go break some eggs."

The two exit the stage, side by side.

Ignoring one of the teaches and one of her father's assistants, (Y/n) walks over to the bathroom and changes into a pair of casual clothes for the mission she was supposed to be on.

Approaching her father, (Y/n) says a quick goodbye, and the twenty-four-year-old woman closes her eyes and disappears, arriving in Lagos, Nigeria.

(Y/n), like her mother, was a mutant. (Y/n) had the powers of teleportation, absorption, and the ability to control elements, as well as the ability to shape-shift. 

Glancing around for a moment, (Y/n) pulls on a pair of sunglasses, places her COM set in her ear, and walks over to the Black Widow, who is sitting by herself with a tea in her hands.

"Morning, ma'am," (Y/n) greets Natasha Romanoff, "you mind if I sit here? There are no more open tables."

"Sure, go right ahead," Natasha says, hiding a smile at the sight of her best friend. Natasha and (Y/n) had been friends since Natasha had joined SHIELD, as (Y/n) and their partner, Clint, had recruited her.

A waitress walks over and (Y/n) orders a coffee, listening in on the conversation between Natasha, Wanda, Steve, and Sam going on.

"All right, what do you see?" Steve asks.

"Standard beat cops," Wanda murmurs around her cup of coffee in her hand. "Small station. Quiet street. It's a good target."

"There's an ATM in the south corner, which means . . ." Steve begins but Wanda cuts him off.

"Cameras," Wanda says.

"Nice Wanda," (Y/n) murmurs, and Wanda smiles softly at the approval in the older woman's voice.

"Both cross streets are one way," Steve says into the COMs.

"So, compromised escape routes," Wanda guesses.

"Means our guy doesn't care about being seen, he isn't afraid to make a mess on the way out," (Y/n) says softly.

"She's right," Steve says and (Y/n)'s cheeks dust a slightly darker color. "See that Range Rover halfway up the block?"

"Yeah, the red one?" Wanda asks. "It's cute."

"Looks like my first car," (Y/n) says with a soft laugh.

"Not the point," Natasha says and (Y/n) grins. "The point is, is that it's bulletproof, which means private security, which means more guys, which means more headaches for somebody."

"Probably us," (Y/n) adds. "I should have stayed with Dad.”

Wanda laughs but then says, her voice more serious, “You know I can move things with my mind, right?”

“You know I can set things on fire, or freeze them, or throw them at people?” (Y/n) says. 

“Looking over your shoulder needs to become second nature,” Natasha and (Y/n) say in unison. 

“Anybody ever told the two of you that you’re a little paranoid?” Sam asks. 

“Not to my face,” Natasha scoffs, exchanging an amused glance with (Y/n) for a moment. 

“Nor mine, probably cause my Dad could sue anyone for some odd reason, but, you know, whatever,” (Y/n) says. “Anyway, why?”

“Did you hear something?” Natasha asks. 

“Anybody tell you that you two are perfect together?” Sam asks and (Y/n) holds back a fit of laughter and from the expression on Natasha’s face, she was doing the same. 

“Eyes on the target, folks,” Steve says, keeping Sam from saying anything else. “This is the best lead we’ve had on Rumlow in six months. I don’t want to lose him.”

“Oh, that’s why we’re here,” (Y/n) says. “Watch me get deaded by Rumlow if he’s here.”

“Okay Crazy,” Wanda says, holding back a laugh as the sound of Natasha smacking (Y/n)’s arm sounds through the COMs. 

Unknown to everyone but Steve, a garbage truck begins pushing its way through traffic, showing no regard to pedestrians or other vehicles. 

“Sam, see that garbage truck?” Steve asks. “Tag it.”

There is a moment of silence before Sam speaks, “That truck is loaded for max weight. And the driver’s armed.”

“It’s a battering ram,” Natasha realizes and (Y/n) sets a twenty on the table and stands up, heading for the alleyway where she’d teleported from MIT. 

(Y/n) teleports on top of the truck then just outside the Institute for Infectious Diseases Ward. 

Soldiers in black armor emerge from two trucks that had driven through the entrance to the Institution. 

“Go now!” Steve orders, readying his shield. 

“What?” Wanda asks. 

“He’s not hitting the police,” Steve says. 

“Yeah, no kidding,” (Y/n) grumbles as one of the soldiers shoots where she’d been standing a few moments before, while some of the soldiers shoot gas bombs into the building above (Y/n). 

Her fists lighting on fire, (Y/n) knocks out a few of the soldiers before Steve shows up.

“Nice of you to show up,” (Y/n) says with a warm smile towards the super-soldier. 

Steve smiles and says into the COMs, “Body armor, AR-15s. We make seven hostiles.”

Sam flies in and up to a rooftop, spinning and using his wings to block the gunfire, taking out two soldiers in the process. 

“I make that five,” Sam says. 

Wanda arrives and flies over a rooftop into the courtyard, blocking bullets with her powers. She takes control of a soldier and lifts him upwards. “Sam,” she calls, and the Falcon flies down and catches the soldier with one of his wings. 

“Four,” Sam says with a grin.

One of Sam’s drones flies by, scanning the inside of the building. “Rumlow’s on the third floor.”

“Aye Wanda,” (Y/n) says, running towards the girl. “Just like we practiced.”

“What about the gas?” comes Wanda’s questioning voice, her Sokovian accent thick at the moment. 

“Get it out,” (Y/n) says. 

Wanda uses her powers to lift (Y/n) up and through a window. 

(Y/n) grabs one of the soldiers and pulls off their gas mask. 

(Y/n) advances, taking out about five solders before making her way to the Bio-Hazard area. 

“Rumlow has a biological weapon,” (Y/n) warns. 

“I’m on it,” Natasha tells her, riding in on a motorcycle. She turns it on its side and skids it towards a soldier, taking out a few more in hand-to-hand combat. Rumlow comes up behind her, dragging her onto an armored vehicle. Natasha tries to electrocute Rumlow but it doesn’t work. 

“I don’t work like that no more,” Rumlow taunts. He throws her through a roof hatch into an armored vehicle, drops in a grenade, and shuts the hatch. “Fire in the hole!”

“Get out of there Nat!” (Y/n) calls, moving to stand on a balcony. 

Rumlow catches sight of her and sends a bomb her way and (Y/n) gets blasted back into a wall. 

Scrambling her feet, (Y/n) presses a hand to her bleeding forehead and breaks into a run as another blast shakes the building behind her. 

Another blast sends (Y/n) through a window and she falls over the side of the balcony, onto a metal container, and down onto the concrete below. 

(Y/n) groans, rolling over and staggering to her feet, her arm pressed tightly to her ribs, guessing some had broken. “Oh man, those are broken,” (Y/n) grumbles and Wanda rushes over, throwing an arm around (Y/n)’s shoulders, taking some of her weight. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Wanda says. 

Steve, Sam, and Natasha rush after Rumlow and the soldiers, Steve finally pinning Rumlow to the ground. 

“Something’s about to happen,” (Y/n) says, her eyes widening, hearing the conversation between Steve and Rumlow over the COMs. Then she turns to Wanda, “You gotta trust me? All right?” Wanda nods and (Y/n) teleports them to where Steve and Rumlow are. 

(Y/n) wraps her arms around Rumlow and nods to Wanda, who shoots the two into the air, not a moment too soon it seemed, because Rumlow explodes, (Y/n) screaming as she absorbs half the blast. The remaining energy hits the side of the building, shattering glass windows and setting the building on fire. 

(Y/n) drops back towards the ground, her eyes blurring slightly and Wanda shoots her arms up, catching (Y/n) and lightly lowering her to the ground before the Scarlet Witch looks up at the building in flames and covers her mouth with her hand. 

“Oh my . . .” Steve’s bright blue eyes, wide with shock, his mouth hanging open murmurs, “Sam . . . we need . . . Fire and Rescue . . . and a MedEvac team . . . on the south side of the building. We gotta get up there.”

Wanda glances down at (Y/n), whose forehead was bleeding, her right arm resting on her stomach, and the side of her face slightly burned, the woman’s (E/c) eyes fluttering shut. 

Natasha and Sam show up a few moments later and Natasha stares wide-eyed at her best friend’s unconscious body resting in Wanda’s lap. 

Natasha rushes over and helps some of the medical workers lift (Y/n)’s body onto a stretcher. 

The next day finds Natasha and Steve fussing over (Y/n) as she sits up in the Med Bay in the Avengers’ Compound. 

“I love all of you, but stop fussing over me,” (Y/n) says, getting to her feet and shrugging off Natasha’s hand on her shoulder. “I’m injured, not dead.”

Steve smiles at the thought, the same words as he had said to Natasha and (Y/n) a few years back when they were on the run from SHIELD, well, HYDRA. 

“Steve,” (Y/n) stops the super-soldier as she, Steve, and Natasha walk out of the Med Bay together. “Would you check up on Wanda? She probably feels responsible for what happened.”

Natasha turns to (Y/n) as Steve walks away, towards Wanda’s room, (Y/n) guesses. “Don’t you ever do anything that stupid ever again,” Natasha scolds her friend. “You did it in DC and Sokovia before now. You’re going to kill yourself by the time you die.”

“That’s incredibly strange wording there Miss Romanoff,” (Y/n) says with a smile. 

Natasha goes to say something but Sam walks up and leads Natasha down to the briefing room. 

A few minutes later, after (Y/n) had changed into a pair of jeans and a loose t-shirt, she makes her way down to the briefing room, leaning on the doorway as she listens to Thunderbolt Ross, the Secretary of State, speak. 

“Five years ago,” Ross begins. “I had a heart attack. I dropped right in the middle of my back-swing. Turned out it was the best round of my life, because after 13 hours of surgery and a triple bypass . . . I found something 40 years in the Army had never taught me: Perspective. The world owes the Avengers an un-payable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives . . . but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some . . . who would prefer the word ‘vigilantes’.”

“And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” asks Natasha in a falsely respectful voice. 

“How about "dangerous"? What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?“ Ross says and (Y/n) steps forward into the room from the shadows. 

“You don’t think we’re unconcerned about what we leave behind, Secretary?” (Y/n) says in a soft voice, which still carries through the silent room. “I think the Avengers, above all others, know what it’s like to lose the ones they care about and the wreckage left behind.”

Steve and Natasha look over to see (Y/n) standing behind Sam’s chair at the back of the room. 

“But,” (Y/n) smiles with a look of disgust in her eyes, “if you must, please, continue.”

“Thank you, Miss Stark,” Ross says, rolling his eyes and pressing a button on a remote in his hands. 

News footage from past Avengers and SHIELD matters flash on the screen as he speaks, “New York.” A Chitauri leviathan. Terrified citizens. A soldier firing a gun. The Hulk smashing into buildings, sending dust clouds engulfing the camera.

Rhodey’s expression turns regretful and he glances over his shoulder at Natasha. 

“Washington DC,” Ross continues. Three Insight helecarriers, firing on each other. The destroyed Triskelion. A helicarrier crashes into the Potomac throwing up a massive wave while in the background, (Y/n)’s body hits the river below. 

Sam is the one who looks down this time, and Steve spares a glance at (Y/n), whose expression had hardened into one of carefully controlled anger. 

“Sokovia,” Ross says, pressing yet another button on his controller. Terrified citizens running. The city rising. A building falling over. Wanda and Tony continue to look at the screen, Wanda swallowing thickly at the sight of her former home behind destroyed. 

“Lagos,” The burning building. Paramedics moving bodies. A dead girl. An unconscious (Y/n) being lifted into an ambulance.

Wanda looks particularly affected by the footage from Lagos and (Y/n) steps forward to place a comforting hand on the young woman’s shoulder. Steve also sees how discomforted Wanda seems and intervenes. 

“Okay, that’s enough.”

Ross nods to an aide and the images disappear. 

“For the past four years, you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.” Ross receives a thick book from one of his aides and slides it across the table to Wanda. She picks it up and then slides it to Rhodey. 

“The Sokovia Accords,” Ross tells the Avengers. “Approved by a hundred and seventeen countries . . . it states that the Avengers should no longer be a private organization. Instead, they’ll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary. You say that it's enough to be a man. But there are gods. And the rest of us, what are we? They’re giants, we’re what they step on.”

The conversation has (Y/n) remembering what Phil Coulson had told Mike Peterson before he had become DeathLok. 

“The good ones, the real deal,” comes (Y/n)’s voice and everyone turns to look at her once again. “They’re, we’re, not heroes because of what we have that you don’t. It’s what we do with it that matters.”

Steve nods and sends (Y/n) an admiring glance. “The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place. I feel we’ve done that,” Steve adds to (Y/n)’s words.

“Tell me, Captain, Miss Stark, do you two know where Thor and Banner are right now?” Ross asks, meeting Steve’s eyes. 

“I have a guess,” (Y/n) says, meeting Natasha’s green gaze. “Asgard.”

Ross ignores (Y/n) and says, “If I misplaced a couple of 30 megaton nukes . . . you can bet there'd be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That's how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground.”

“So, there are contingencies,” Rhodey guesses. 

“Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords.”

Steve glances at Tony as Ross heads for the door. 

“Talk it over,” Ross finally says. 

“And if we come to a decision you don’t like?” Natasha asks. 

“Then you retire,” Ross says and Natasha stifles a smile. 

A few minutes later, (Y/n) finds herself sitting at the counter in the briefing room, her fingers pressed to her temples as Sam and Rhodey argue behind her. 

“I have an equation,” Vision interrupts. 

“Oh, this will clear it up,” Sam says, turning to listen to Vision.

“In the eight years since Mr. Stark and Miss Stark announced themselves as IronMan and Phoenix respectively, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially.”

“Are you saying it’s our fault?” Steve asks his eyes remaining on (Y/n), whose fingers had begun tapping lightly on the countertop in front of her.  

“I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict . . . breeds catastrophe. Oversight . . . oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

“Boom,” Rhodey says. 

(Y/n) glances over at her father, who was lying on one of the couches, one hand on his face. 

When Natasha speaks, he removes his hand to look at her. “Tony,” Natasha prompts. “You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal.”

“It’s because he’s already made up his mind,” Steve guesses.

“Boy, you know me so well,” Tony gets up, wincing, rubbing the back of his head. “Actually, I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache.”

He walks over towards the kitchen and grabs a mug. “That’s what’s going on, Cap. It’s just pain. It’s discomfort. Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal” Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?” 

Despite the negative thoughts running through her head, (Y/n) cracks a smile at her father’s question.

Tony sets his phone in a basket and taps it. The phone projects an image of a smiling young ham. Tony looks down, then back up, and pretends to notice the picture for the first time. “Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way. He's a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn't want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where Sokovia.”

(Y/n) swallows thickly and glancing at her teammates, she can tell that the others are also affected by this. 

“He wanted to make a difference, I suppose,” Tony says softly. “I mean, we won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.” Tony takes a pill with some coffee, then faces the others. “There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys.”

“Well said,” comes (Y/n)’s quiet voice, though everyone in the room heard it. 

“Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up,” Steve says. 

“Who said we’re giving up?” Tony asks. 

“We are if we're not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blames.” 

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) says softly and the others turn to her once again. “Steve,” she pauses for a moment. “That’s dangerously arrogant,” there is an apologetic undertone to her words and now Rhodey speaks. 

“This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not SHIELD, it’s not HYDRA.”

“No, but it’s run by people with agendas, and agendas change,” Steve argues. 

“That’s good,” Tony presses. “That’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.”

“Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don't think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don't let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.”

“If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s the fact. That won’t be pretty,” Tony says, shooting an apologetic glance towards his daughter. 

“You’re saying they’ll come for me,” Wanda’s gaze flickers to the others. 

“Us,” (Y/n) corrects, meeting Wanda’s fearful green gaze. 

“We would protect you,” Vision says. 

“Maybe Tony’s right,” Natasha says, shooting a glance at (Y/n), then Wanda.

Tony looks at the former assassin, surprised. 

“If we have one had on the wheel, we can steer. If we take it off -” Sam interupts Natasha. 

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kick her ass a few years ago?” Sam asks as (Y/n) rises from her place slumped against the countertop and walks over to sit by her friend. 

Natasha looks over at (Y/n) and sends her a comforting smile. 

“I’m just . . .” Natasha begins but (Y/n) continues for her. 

“She’s reading the terrain,” (Y/n) explains. “We have made . . . some -”

“Very public mistakes. We need to win everyone’s trust back,” Natasha finishes. 

“Focus up,” Tony says, still staring at Natasha in disbelief. “I’m sorry, did I mishear you or did you agree with me?”

(Y/n) cracks another smile as Natasha replies, “Oh, I want to take it back now.”

“No, no, no,” Tony argues. “You can't retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay, case closed--I win.“

Steve’s phone buzzes and he pulls it out to check it. (Y/n) glances over at Steve, a question in her eyes. 

(Y/n) knew that Steve had feelings for her - and (Y/n) did as well - and judging by the look on Steve’s face, she knew it had to be about Peggy. (Y/n) knew that, deep down, Steve still loved Peggy. 

“I have to go,” Steve says abruptly, dropping the Accords onto the coffee table and going downstairs. 

The others in the room glance at each other for a moment before Wanda stands up from her place next to Vision and (Y/n) stands up, following her. 

(Y/n) jogs after Wanda, catching up with the young brunette. “Wanda,” (Y/n) places a hand on her shoulder, but the girl continues to walk. “Wanda, stop.”

“What?” Wanda snaps, turning on (Y/n). 

“What are you going to do?” (Y/n) asks softly, her hand remaining on Wanda’s shoulder. 

“What are you going to do?” Wanda asks in return. 

“I’m going to sign,” (Y/n) says softly. “I think you should too. Like my dad said, if we don’t do this now, it’s going to happen later.”

(Y/n) gives Wanda’s shoulder a comforting squeeze before she turns, walking away. 

A few days later, (Y/n) and Natasha walk into the cathedral where Steve had just been mourning the death of Peggy Carter. 

(Y/n) smiles nervously at Steve as he speaks, “When I came out of the ice, I thought everyone I had known was gone. Then I found out that she was alive. I was just lucky to have her.”

“She had you back, too,” Natasha says, shooting (Y/n) - who was standing at her shoulder - a glance. 

“Who else signed?” Steve asks. 

“Tony. Rhodey. Vision.” (Y/n) answers. 

“Clint?” Steve asks. 

“Say’s he’s retired,” Natasha says, and (Y/n) and the redhead share an amused smile. 

“Wanda?”

“TBD,” Natasha answers. 

“We’re, well, off to Vienna for the signing of the Accords,” (Y/n) says. “There’s plenty of room on the jet,” she offers, hoping with all her heart that Steve would come. 

Steve sighs and bows his head and (Y/n)’s composer seems to fall. 

“Just because it’s the path of least resistance doesn’t mean it’s the wrong path. Staying together is more important than how we stay together,” Natasha tells Steve.

(Y/n) had the feeling that her best friend was trying to convince herself as well. 

“What are we giving up to do it?” Steve asks, avoiding meeting (Y/n)’s eyes.

Natasha sighs and Steve shakes his head, unconvinced. 

“I’m sorry, Nat, (Y/n),” Steve says softly. “I can’t sign it.”

“We know,” (Y/n) says softly. 

"Then what are you doing here?" Steve asks. 

"I didn't want you to be alone," (Y/n) says, stepping forward to wrap the super soldier in a hug. 

(Y/n) pulls back after a moment, holding back tears as she says, "Good luck, Steve." 

Natasha puts a comforting hand on (Y/n)'s arm and the two walk out of the cathedral. 

A few hours later, (Y/n) and Natasha are standing in the UN building signing papers for the Accords. 

"Excuse me, Miss Romanoff, Miss Stark?" asks a UN staffer. 

"Yes?" Natasha responds.

"We need your signatures," the staffer says. (Y/n) and Natasha sign the papers. 

"I suppose neither of us are used to the spotlight," comes a voice and the two women turn to see Prince T'Challa standing in front of them. "Though, Miss Stark, it seems to follow you everywhere."

"Well, it's not always so flattering," Natasha answers with a smile. 

"You seem to be going alright so far. Considering your last trip to Capitol Hill . . . I wouldn't think you would be particularly comfortable in this company."

"Well, I'm not," Natasha replies. 

"That alone makes me glad you're here, Miss Romanoff," T'Challa continues. 

"Why? You don't approve of all this?" (Y/n) asks. 

"The Accords, yes," T'Challa answers. "The politics, not really. Two people in a room can get more done than a hundred."

"Unless you need to move a piano," comes King T'Chaka's voice. 

"Father."

"Son. Miss Romanoff. Miss Stark," T'Chaka's says in return, nodding to his son. 

"King T'Chaka," (Y/n) says, nodding respectfully to the king. "Please let us apologize for what happened in Nigeria."

"Thank you. Thank you for agreeing to all this. I'm sad to hear that Captain Rogers will not be joining us today."

(Y/n) and Natasha share a glance. "Us as well," (Y/n) answers.

"If it is okay, I would like to have a word with Miss Stark," T'Challa says and (Y/n) nods. 

Smiling at Natasha, then nodding to the king, (Y/n) follows T'Challa to the window. 

Before T'Challa can say anything, T'Chaka begins to speak. "When stolen Wakandan vibranium was used to make a terrible weapon, we in Wakanda were forced to question our legacy. Those men and women killed in Nigeria were part of a goodwill mission from a country too long in the shadows. We will not, however, let misfortune drive us back. We will fight to improve the world we wish to join. I am grateful to the Avengers for supporting this initiative." (Y/n) spots something outside and she nudges T'Challa, pointing to a news van outside where several officers were milling around the back. "Wakanda is proud to extend its hand in peace."

"Everybody get down!" (Y/n) and T'Challa yell, sprinting towards where the king was still standing, giving his speech. 

An enormous explosion goes off between the two buildings sending (Y/n) and T'Challa flying back. 

(Y/n) staggers to her feet, her hand wrapped around her bleeding forearm, and watches, horrified as T'Challa finds his father lying on the floor with his eyes closed. The Prince grabs his father's wrist and feels for a pulse, but King T'Chaka lies still. Devastated, T'Challa lies across his father, then lifting him and rocking him. 

Natasha darts forward and pulls her friend down onto the floor and rips off part of her sleeve to wrap around (Y/n)'s arm, (Y/n)'s eyes wide with shock.

The survivors are evacuated from the buildings and fire crews begin to hose them down.

Natasha and (Y/n) sit on the bench beside T'Challa's. 

"I'm very sorry," Natasha says softly. 

T'Challa glances at the two, holding a silver ornate ring which he toys with between his fingers. "In my culture, death is not the end. It's more of a . . . stepping-off point. You reach out with both hands and Bast and Sekhmet, they lead you into the green veldt where . . . you can run forever."

"That sounds very peaceful," Natasha replies, her voice still soft. 

"My father thought so," T'Challa answers, placing the ring on his finger. "But I am not my father."

"T'Challa. Task forces will decide who brings in Barnes."

T'Challa clenches his fists, "Don't bother, Miss Romanoff. I'll kill him myself."

3rd Person POV

Steve - in his uniform - strides through an underpass, then jogs onto a private runway, heading for a grounded chopper. An electro-disabler slams onto the chopper and Steve looks up. 

Above him, Tony and Rhodey descend, landing on the ground. 

"Wow, it's so weird how you run into people at the airport. Don't you think that's weird?" Tony asks, his helmet retracting.

"Definitely weird," Rhodey answers. 

"Hear me out, Tony," Steve says. "That doctor, the psychiatrist, he's behind all of this."

T'Challa, clad in his Black Panther uniform, leaps over a truck. "Captain."

"Your highness."

"Anyway," Tony says, walking behind Rhodey. "Ross gave me thirty-six hours to bring you in. That was twenty-four hours ago. Can you help a brother out?"

"You're after the wrong guy," Steve answers calmly. 

"Your judgment is askew," Tony replies, some of his anger showing now. "Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday. 

"And there are five more soldiers just like him. I can't let the doctor find them first, Tony. I can't."

"Steve . . ." It was Natasha's voice now. ". . . you know what's about to happen. Do you want to punch your way out of this one?"

"All right I've run out of patience. Underoos!" Tony calls. 

A figure in blue and red spandex shoots what looks like a web, stealing Steve's shield and binding his hands, landing on a car. 

"Good job, kid," Tony praises. 

"Thanks. Well, I could've stuck the landing a little better. It's just the new suit… Well, it's nothing, Mr. Stark. It's--it's perfect. Thank you," Peter stumbles over his words.

"Yeah, we don't really need to start a conversation."

"Okay. Cap . . . Captain. Big fan, I'm Spider-Man." 

"Yeah, we'll talk about it later. Just . . ."

"Hey, everyone."

" . . . Good job."

"You've been busy," Steve interrupts. 

"And you've been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint. 'Rescuing' Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place. I'm trying to keep . . . I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart," Tony finishes. 

“You did that when you signed,” Steve answers calmly. 

“Alright, We're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us. NOW! Because it's us! Or a squad of J-SOC guys . . . with no compunction about being impolite,” Tony scowls at Steve. 

Steve holds up his hands and Clint shoots the web off with an arrow. “Alright, Lang.”

“Hey, guys, something . . .” Peter says. 

He gets kicked back and a full sized man is now standing beside Steve, holding out his shield.

“Oh great,” Tony says. “There’s two in the parking garage. One of them’s Maximoff I’m going to grab her.” Tony flies off in his suit. “Rhodey, you wanna take Cap?

“Got two in the terminal, Wilson and Barnes,” Rhodey answers. 

“Barnes is mine!” T’Challa shouts. 

“Hey, Mr. Stark. What should I do?” Peter asks. 

“What we discussed. Keep your distance. Web ‘em up,” Tony answers.

“Okay, copy that!” Peter uses his webs to swing away. 

Scott Lang - Ant Man - faces Natasha. “Look, I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“I wouldn’t stress about it,” Natasha replies. She kicks him in the groin and he miniaturizes, throwing her head over heels. She zaps him off her wrist and he slams into a nearby truck, leaving a small dent. 

Tony is now hovering over Wanda and Clint. “Wanda, I think you hurt Visions’s feelings.”

“You locked me in my room,” Wanda retorts. 

“Okay first, that’s an exaggeration. Second, (Y/n) wanted me to protect you. Hey, Clint.”

“Hey, man,” Clint answers, readying his bow. 

“Clearly, retirement doesn’t suit you. You get tired of shooting golf?”

“Well, I played eightteen, I shot eightteen. Just can’t seem to miss,” Clint fires an arrow which Tony deflects. 

“First time for everything,” Tony replies. 

“Made you look,” Clint smirks. 

“Suddenly a sar slams past Tony and he looks up as dozens more come crashing down. Wanda moves her glowing red hands until Tony is burried under a pile of cars. 

Tony flies over to Natasha once he unburries himself and helps her up. 

“Is this part of the plan?” the redhead asks. 

“Well, my plan was to go easy on them. You wanna switch it up?” the billionare asks. 

Clint spots the Quinjet. “There’s our ride.”

“Come on!” Steve calls. 

Steve’s team runs towards the Quinjet but they are stopped by a fizzing stream of energy slicking across the runway and they stop. Looking up they see Vision hovering overhead. 

“Captain Rogers,” Vision begins. “I know what you believe what your doing is right. But for the collective good you must surrender now.” As he speaks, the rest of Tony’s team arrives. 

“What’d we do, Cap?” Sam asks. 

“We fight,” Steve answers. 

“This is gonna end well,” Natasha says. 

The two teams stride towards each other with grim determination etched on their faces. 

“They’re not stopping,” Peter says. 

“Neither are we,” Tony replies grimly. 

Steve blocks a punch with his shield from Tony as he lands. Clint fires an arrow at Vision as Rhodey flies after Sam and and Bucky, trading blows with T’Challa.

An explosive arrow hit Tony.

Natasha throws Scott as Peter wings through the air, struggling to evade flying vehicles.

Bucky lands punches on T’Challa. 

Clint and Natasha battle with batons and eventually, Clint pins her down with his bow. 

“We’re still friends, right?” Natasha asks. 

“Depends on how hard you hit me,” Clint answers.

Natasha spins the archer with her legs and jumps to her feet. As she’s about to kick his head, her foot stops and glows bright red. With a wave of her hand, Wanda throws Natasha back. “You were pulling your punches. 

As Natasha’s thrown back, someone catches her before she can hit the ground. 

“Nice to see you,” the figure says with a ghost of a smile as she sets the redhead back on her feet. 

“(Y/n)! What are you doing here?” the redhead asks. 

“I’m making sure nobody dies today!” (Y/n) yells over her shoulder, running to where Steve was talking to Peter. 

“Look kid,” Steve says as (Y/n) comes up behind him. “There’s a lot here that you don’t understand. 

“Mr. Stark said you’d say that,” Peter replies. “Wow.” He fires webs which stick to Steve’s leg and shield. He pulls and Steve slides towards him. Peter kicks him backwards and then rolls clear. “He also said to go for you legs.” As Steve runs to get his shield, Peter webs his hands and pulls. Steve grits his teeth, spins and somersaults, propelling Peter through the air. 

Steve catches one of Peter’s webs and tugs the boy near him, knocking him down with the shield. Peter recovers and pull himself on top of a gangway. “Stark tell you anything else?” Steve asks.

“How about don’t beat up kids?” (Y/n) asks teleporting in between the kid and Steve. 

“Go,” (Y/n) tells the kid, then readies her fists at Steve. 

Growling with frustration, Steve throws his shield at (Y/n) but (Y/n) stops it with a jet of water. 

(Y/n) charges at Steve but is stopped by Bucky, who had launched himself at her and pinned her to the ground. 

Bucky goes to punch his metal fist into her face but (Y/n) teleports away. “What the!” Bucky exclaims. 

Vision had just shot a shining beam of energy at the control tower and it collapses towards the entrance of the hangar. Wanda holds other hands, keeping the tower from collapsing, letting Steve and Bucky run through it. Rhodey descends behind her and fires a sonic disruptor and Wanda holds her head and screams. The tower falls around Steve and Bucky but they make it into the hanger. 

Natasha, who was in the hangar, catches sight of the tower falling on top of another figure. The two had made eye contact before the tower had collapsed on top of her, (E/c) on green. 

“Tony!” Natasha yells, running past, completely ignoring Steve and Bucky, who run past her into the Quinjet. “We’ve got a big problem!”

“Romanoff, what is it?” Tony asks. 

“(Y/n) . . .” the redhead trails off. 

“What happened?” Tony asks frantically.

“The control tower, it collapsed on top of her,” Natasha breathes. “We need somebody who can lift heave things.”

Tony, Rhodey, Wanda, and Clint show up soon and the five dig through the rubble and Natasha heaves one chunk of rock, moving it. 

(Y/n) raises up her arm, her hand trembling and everyone rushes over to move the rest of the rock. Her hand falls, palm facing up, and she exhales, her breath ragged. 

“I hope one of y-you can c-carry me,” (Y/n) stammers. “Cause I think my leg’s b-broken.”

The last slab of rock is removed and everyone looks at each other. A sheet of metal was stuck in her abdomen, and blood was pooling under her. 

“Y-you’re gonna have t-to c-carry me.”

Tony comes out of his suit and takes his daughter’s hand in his own. Natasha moves to take the other. (Y/n)’s eyes close in pain for a moment and then she opens them again. 

“I-I think i-it’s bad,” (Y/n) voice trembles. “Cause I can’t feel it.” 

Her eyes close once more and then she opens them again, looking at her father. 

“D-dad? W-when di-id you get h-here?” (Y/n) stutters and Tony squeezes his dying daughter’s hand. 

“Oh sweetheart, I’ll always be here.” Tony says, a tear falling from his eyes. 

“T-that’s sweet,” (Y/n) slurs. Her head lolls to the side and she sees Natasha and Clint, the archer’s hand placed on his redheaded friend’s shoulder. “Nat. C-clint.” A tear streaks down Natasha’s face. “D-don’t c-cry. I-I’ll be o-okay.”

“Only you could comfort us like this,” Natasha says, tears falling onto her hands. 

(Y/n) looks over at Rhodey, and his helmet retracts. “U-uncle R-rhodey?”

The man nods. 

“W-watch m-my Dad,” she says. “H-he tends to be r-reckless sometimes.”

“I will,” Rhodey promises. 

“Doll, that’s not every nice,” Tony scolds lightly and (Y/n) lets out a soft laugh. 

“Wanda,” (Y/n) says, addressing the youngest. 

Wanda looks up from her feet. 

“Y-you’re so s-smart and t-talented,” (Y/n) tells the young girl. “And d-don’t le-et anyone tell y-you different.”

Wanda chokes down a sob as (Y/n) falls limp against the rocks under her. 

Natasha runs her hands gently through her friend’s hair and (Y/n) jolts conscious once again. 

“N-nat,” (Y/n) stammers. 

“Breathe, just breathe (Y/n/n),” Natasha murmurs. 

“N-nat, t-ell St-teve I’m sorry,” (Y/n) slurs.

Then she falls limp . . . 

She breathes her last breath . . . 

And falls silent, not moving again . . . 

Well, this was, well, this made me cry writing it, so . . .

Word Count: 7,164 words

So yeah, I don’t know if this was what @rogersrogers334​ was looking for, but here it is. 

Anyway, Imma go cry in the safety of my bed now . . .

Love,          Kaitlynn ❤️😍

[whosxafraid]

Meme: Uncomfortable Headcanons Status: Open URL: @goodlawman​

Monday morning. He’s been up a while as it is. Pieceing together plans for another job. But then his stomach had turned on him and breakfast had become a necessity. And breakfast meant the inevitability of throwing away things. Things like the empty egg carton. The milk he finished off. And right--that became needing to take out the garbage. Heavy bag lifted out of the waste bin. Feet shoved into boots. A dozen locks unlatched and the door drug open. Bag held at arms length because even the cigarette hanging from his mouth can’t mask the smell. A thought that has him re-thinking the concept of hiring someone to just do all this. But it passes on without any real consideration. It’s too risky. 

So heavy boots thud down the stairs. Shuffle over concrete. One of the side doors of the wear house hauled open next and he steps out into the early morning. The sun just start to peek over the horizon. Its light cutting between buildings. Casting shadows at weird angles. And there’s a narrowing of green and yellow at his own. A light warping that dares appear at the edges. A tell tell sign his particular condition is brewing for a badly timed episode. Nothing he can really do about. Have to deal with it as it comes. Though in a way he’s glad for the warning all the same. He’s got time to adjust his timetable. 

A bit of smoke sent up into the air from a long drag. Cigarette set between his lips again before lifting the lid of the dumpster. Bag given a swing to gain momentum and up and and over it goes. Landing with the expected sound of plastic on plastic and a hundred other more gross surfaces. The tumbling squelch not at all paid mind too as the lid is left go of....

He catches it a fraction of a second later. Every piece and part still as stone. Because there’d been something else. Something between the bag striking bag and the clang of glass hitting the side of the dumpster. Something much more organic and the lid comes back up. Green and yellow narrowing again as he pears over the edge and inside. Expecting to find a cat or some other small unfortunate creature that had found its way in but couldn’t find its way out. But--

A boot is what he notices first. One that should have been familiar from the get go, when he thinks about it later. And his gaze follows the leather. Leather that turns to denim that turns to a metal buckle framed in stained and torn flannel. A filthy cotton shirt that had at some point been white. And on and on until-- he’s reaching in. Displacing a painfully familiar hat and there’s a body encompassing sigh. 

God damn it, boy.

The cigarette dropped to asphalt and ground out. A foot that finds a step up and he’s leaning over. A fist full of cotton and flannel. Dragging the top half of Raylan Givens up into a sitting position. Gets arms under the boy’s and dead lifts him out of the trash. Trying not to choke on the smell, once the lad’s feet have hit the street. Picking off unmentionables and--yep that was definitely a banana peel of all things stuck to the kid’s arm. Something that’s slung back into the dumpster once he’s got Raylan leaned to against the outter side. The lid given just enough push to come clanging shut, before he’s shouldering all six plus feet of younger man. A awkwar crouch to grab the can not be forgotten head gear and making his way back inside.

Back inside where, said head gear is abandoned on the kitchen table on his way to the bathroom. Raylan set as easy as Luka can manage into the tub. Clothes stripped and in some cases cut off. The glaring evidence of blood and the rip in an under shirt that matches the hole still closing in the boy’s chest. He doesn’t know what Raylan did to earn that particular momentary trophy but for now all it garners is a shake of his head. The tub facet turned on and allowed to fill up the tub a few inches as he bags the ruined clothes, to be burned at some point tonight. Then Luka gets to work getting the still unconscious lad clean. Gets him dry and lugged out of the bathroom. Finds clothes left behind for whenever Raylan dropped in. Just boxers and shorts for now. And then its the easy part. Getting him all tucked into bed, before its on to the final step.

A blade from the drawer by the bed. A clean cut across his own palm before he’s holding it close over the wound in the boy’s chest. A squeeze and then another and another. Drops of red landing where they will, slowly and then all at once being soaked into the wound like a sponge. And for now that is all Luka can do. If it works--which it should--Raylan will be awake sooner rather than later. Thirsty and hung over, but no worse for wear all things considered. But that doesn’t stop the parental glance Luka gives him. Or the pat to the kid’s shoulder before he shuffles back out of the room. He’s got a work to do after all, and it isn’t like Raylan’s going to be the greatest conversationalist. Not for a few hours anyway.

[forestryfae]

but yeah. basically ive been sleeping during the day a lot and it sucks. works not going as good as i wish it did. balancing work and homelife isnt easy, and homelife is lacking.

i have an important letter i need to send, gotta call teh dentist, im supposed to be taking meds for rosascea but im not allowed to keep the meds in my room and noone is helping me remember the medication (which is stupid as fuck cus when im late to work once or twice theyre IMMEDIATELY on my ass asking if i need someone to come wake me up. hello??) i also have to call whoever gave me my drivers license for practicing or else i might have to take the whole course again.

i also have to go home for 3 weeks and im not looking forward to that. and i need to go spend christmas with mom which like. free food ig. family will need christmas presents but like im broke and i just dont see why. they fucking suck. why am i wasting money on people who care so little about me that they treat me like absolute dogshit. no basic respect or common decendy, talking down to me and treating me like shit all the time, literally anything that can be criticized will be critizied, no respect for boundaries and throwing fucking temper tantrums if i get mad that they trampled over them, just doing whatever the fuck they want and expecting me to be okay with it. nothing is ever good enough but if you dont try youre a lazy brat with no willpower. mental illness exists but its never the root of the problem, its always you. also everyone around them are mindreaders and if you didnt predict what they wanted youre an asshole and you lack common sense.

and i have to spend the next three weeks dealing with this shit with no chance of escape cus they can just show up with no warning at my house. she doesnt care if i was asleep or busy, that just gives her an excuse to be bitchy about it. the world revolves around noone and dont think youre something special except for if youre her. fucking bitch.

but yeah ill be spending 3 weeks mostly trying not to go insane. i need to clean the kitchen, bathroom, hallway and bedroom. i need to go through all the stuff in the kitchen so i dont have a million things i never even touch in there, plus i gotta actually cook every day and i have to go shopping atleats once a week, which wont be easy. the bedroom is a emss so i really want to clear out as much of it as possible, especially w the writing desk i have. its enormous and swallows up the whole room, and i have just a bunch of stuff and garbage lying around that i dont know what to do with.

then theres the bathroom, which is easy enough, but the cats been pissing on some of my clothes on the floor in there since noone in my family understands the concept of closing doors and not letting the cats play in insulation. like the doors dont. magically open by themselves. they were left open. theres also a fuckton of laundry and cleaning off the dryingracks since moms been fucking with those again, and she absolutely has been messing up my sorting. i went through my clothes and decided on what i want to keep and what not and now i 100% guaranteed have to go through that stuff again.

and like. i also have to look at what i have and what i dont have. cus i got some plastic boxes that i was gonna put stuff i wnated to keep in and i never got around to it so i have to just hope i can find it in me to bother going through verything in the house and packing what i actually want i really want to ask the people at the thriftshop i work at if they want like 4 or 5 boxes, if not more when im done, of just garbage. but at the same time, i KNOW theyll clean everything before selling it but i dont want to touch any of it and i dont want it anywhere near me. im so tired of cleaning and bad vibes. im so tired of stuff just not working out.

also. have been considering moving my bedroom to the livingroom. like it just seems easier but at the same time i dont want people in there or people going through my shit when im not at home. idk. its more like a bandaid in an attempt to deal with a broken leg that isnt healing cus its not in acast or getting medical attention.

[bamfbuddie]

5+1 Buddie

5+1 buddie. For some reason, not established buddie, Buck and Eddie share a bed. Buck thinks Eddie likes the left side, so he’s confused when one day Eddie takes the right side. Turns out Eddie's preference is putting himself between Buck and the door as some attempt to keep him from potential harm 😚

Prompt by @paul-strickland

One:

When Eddie volunteered to host a gathering at his house he didn’t expect that Maddie and Chim would end up spending the night. He’s not complaining though, Maddie is very pregnant and very tired and Eddie does not want her to be travelling so late at night so he offers them his guest room.

“Thanks, Eddie.” Chim pats him on the shoulder, says good night to Buck and leads Maddie to Eddie’s guest room.

“Night, Chim,” Buck says before helping Eddie clean up everything.

“That was a fun night,” Eddie says.

“It was, we really needed it,” Buck says, throwing the garbage in the trash can. “Alright, everything is clean. I guess I should probably head out.”

Eddie frowns. “No, no way. You’ve had one too many beers and I don’t feel comfortable letting you drive home like this.”

“But your couch is so uncomfortable,” he whines.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Fine, you can sleep on my bed.”

Buck’s eyes widen. “With you?”

“Yes Buck, with me. Come on man, we’re both adults.”

“Right, okay. Let’s go… uh… sleep together.”

Eddie shoves him to the side. “You’re making it weird.”

“I may be a itty bitty drunk.” He holds his fingers together.

“Your fingers are touching, Buck.”

Buck looks at his hand. “Right so a lot drunk. Bed sounds good.”

Eddie lets Buck use the washroom first as he grabs Buck a pair of his shorts and a shirt. When Buck comes back he hands him the clothes.

"Here. Also sleep on the right side, please."

Buck grabs the clothes from him and nods. So Eddie has a 'side' of the bed, cute .

Eddie heads into the bathroom and brushes his teeth before making his way back to the bedroom. Buck is already under the duvet watching Eddie with drowsy eyes. Eddie slips in beside him.

"Night, Buck."

"Night, Eds."

Two:

"Thanks for making dinner, it's been awhile since I've had a home cooked meal," Eddie says, as he carries their dishes to the sink.

Buck smiles. "No problem, man. I've really gotten into cooking during the time I was benched. Plus we really don't need you cooking and giving yourself and Christopher food poisoning."

"Hey!" Eddie punches Buck's arm.

"Ow! You know it's true," Buck says rubbing his arm.

"Okay, fine, whatever. I suck at cooking." He pouts.

Buck laughs. "Alright, come on you big baby, let's go spend some time with our little man before he goes into a food coma."

Eddie smiles as he follows after him, his heart doing a little flip at Buck calling Christopher theirs . At this point, he guesses, Christopher is theirs.

Read the rest on AO3

[forevercaroline]

The nine lives of Caroline Forbes chapter 1

For @austennerdita2533, @caritobear, @misssophiachase, @babeyouareenough, @joceysstuff

Xxx

“Come on Rebekah hurry up.”

“You try running in heels.”

Klaus and his younger sister Rebekah and younger brother Kol are running into the tall and open coit tower but these three are not here to see the panoramic views of the city and bay. They followed the man dressed in black and has scars on his face who is sent to kill their kind but at the moment he is after Caroline Forbes who doesn’t know who she is or how to protect herself.

“No please.” The man with scars has cornered Caroline to the edge of the tower she looks down at the ground the people look like ants they are so high up.

The trio hear her cries and Rebekah reaches down and takes her heels off and catches up to her brothers. They are to late they get to the top of the tower as Caroline is pushed off. The man with the scars watches as Caroline’s body hits the pavement.

Klaus reaches out and takes his siblings hands and they turn around quickly and quietly.

The bald guy with scars turns around and watches as the two blondes and brunette siblings are running down the stairs he gets an evil grin on his lips and he chases them down the stairs.

As they get down to the ground. Klaus being older pulls his siblings behind him Rebekah is putting her heels back on behind him and Kol is in front of his sister. Klaus address the man that just killed Caroline. “You would really kill us here out in the open. Knowing who and what we are?”

As the older man with scars saunters towards them drawing a knife pointing it at them. “One way or another you will die if not from my hands it will be from someone’s. The order has declared it.”

Xxx

That morning:

Blonde perky Caroline Forbes wakes up excited for the day to begin today is her sixteenth birthday. All she wants is a convertible bug doesn’t matter what color anything except green or orange.

Her bedroom is as bright and perky as she is and everyone has a dark side too all of that is reflected in her room. With tea dye walls the back wall behind her bed is a black piece of wood with white mandalas over it. As she is getting out of bed with a baby blue padded headboard with her pink striped comfortable and pink and black pillows. She puts on some music and dances as she picks out of her clothes for the day. The sun is shining through the windows of her little nook she has a window seat of red cushions, she has a chair, a footstool and a beanbag in the nook seating area. With her desk one one side and her mirror on the other.

While in her en-suite bathroom taking a shower her mind wonders to the color of car she wants a convertible bug maybe red, or pink, yellow could be cool but maybe blinding they do live in San Francisco, baby blue or regular blue could be pretty.

When she finishes her shower she puts on a pair of denim capris, pink spaghetti strapped tiered cami and a navy textured jacket if she gets cold she also has on black wedges and a silver heart necklace.

She goes down to the kitchen which her mom gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning sweetie.” She hands her a bag which when she unwraps it, its a bag of Reese’s, a new black sweater and two new necklaces one is a gold tear drop with gold balls along the inside surrounding a crescent moon and the other is a tube necklace with three lines hanging down but connected to the other side of the necklace.

Caroline hugs her mom. “Thank you I love them.”

“Your welcome there is one more gift but you can’t see it until tonight.”

She nods and as she is picking up a banana. “Did dad send anything?”

“I’m sorry honey he didn’t we don’t even know where he is its likely he forgot.”

After swallowing some of the banana she looks up at her mom and puts on a fake smile. “It’s ok, I know that he left years ago but I just thought that he would send me at least a card on my birthday its not everyday your adoptive daughter turns sixteen.”

Liz pulls her daughter into another hug, even though she is not the biological parent of Caroline she loves Caroline no different.

Xxx

Before school starts Caroline and her two best friends brunettes Davina Claire and her cousin Enzo Claire are talking by one of the stairwells. “I keep having this strange feeling to visit coit tower I don’t know why. I’m going to try to ignore it.” Caroline rubs the side of her temple ever since, Davina and Enzo picked her up in Enzo’ black Jeep everything has been incredible loud every little noise is amplified she swears she could hear he inner workings of the Jeep it’s giving her a headache.

Enzo’s parents died when he was five and a half, and he was sent from Southampton England to San Francisco to live with his cousin so he has a British accent. “Don’t look now cuz London is coming.”

Davina peaks over her shoulder and bites her lip and just like that Kol and Klaus Mikaelson a devilish duo on a good day are coming down the hallway. Kol has a basketball he is bouncing off the walls and catching it. Klaus and Kol stop in front of the staircase and Kol hands his ball to Klaus so he can flirt with Davina, while Klaus is waiting for them to finish he throws the ball above Caroline’s head and catches it so he throws it again above Caroline’s head who is not thrilled and just waiting for the ball to hit her in the head she reaches up and grabs the ball.

Both Caroline and Klaus walk towards each other with different ideas in mind, Klaus wants the ball back and Caroline wants to give him a piece of her mind. “Listen just because your attractive and British and have dimples and look really good in a Henley.”

Enzo pinches her to stay on topic. “Right doesn’t mean you can throw a ball above my head and I’ll be totally fine with it.”

With one hand Caroline throws the basketball down the crowded hallway and it swooshes into a garbage can near the exit of the school. Students in the hallway are amazed and mummer did you see that, Klaus is speechless and looking down at Caroline but Klaus is not the only one speechless so is Caroline and that whole group.

It’s Enzo’s voice that breaks the silence. “How did you do that?”

Caroline swallows and still shocked. “I don’t know lets go.”

Her and Enzo grab Davina’s wrist and drag her off she yells back to Kol “Talk to you later.”

As Caroline is rushing down the opposite hallway she threw the ball in with Enzo and Davina right behind her Klaus and Kol share a look and watch them flee with amazement.

Xxx

Caroline comes out of science and has to go down the stairs to history when Klaus who is coming up the stairs stops her by putting his arm on the wall and backs her up until her back is against the wall. “ That was impressive earlier. You’ll have to show me your moves.”

Caroline nervous she knows his sister Rebekah better they are friends since the Mikaelsons moved here three years ago she can count on one hand the number of conversations she and Klaus have had one when Rebekah introduced Caroline to her brothers Kol and Klaus she said hi he said hello that was it. “ Moves I dont have any moves. That earlier was a freak of nature.”

“I wasn’t talking about basketball.”

Caroline raises an eyebrow. “Subtle.”

Klaus puts a hand on her waist. “Oh I’m not trying to be.”

Caroline has never been this close to Klaus it’s like she can hear his heart beating. She always thought he was Rebekah’s jerky older brother. “ Why are you talking me?”

He leans in and smells her neck. “You smell nice.”

Caroline now a little uncomfortable but when he smelt her his heartbeat jumped. “ Ok its called taking a shower and perfume.”

If it was even possible Klaus gets even closer to her. “Why are you giving me such a hard time Caroline Forbes.”

“We’ve never had a conversation.”

“Looks like we’ll have to change that. I feel like we are going to be great friends.”

Klaus leans down to give Caroline a kiss as his lips hover over hers they both hear. “Klaus!”

They both look at the stairs going upstairs and Rebekah is coming down. With Klaus distracted Caroline makes her escape as she is going around Klaus she smiles at Rebekah. “Hey beks.”

Rebekah smiles at her.

Xxx

Klaus, Rebekah and Kol are sitting in the library and Rebekah hits Klaus in the arm. “Really klaus.”

“We need to know there is only one explanation for the basketball trick this morning.”

“And if she wasn’t she would be dead. And you would be prime suspect number one.”

Kol chimes in with “The basketball stunt is all over school everyone is talking about it.”

“If Rebekah would of not interrupted my test we would know.”

“She’s my friend plus Nik you were coming off creepy. Seriously smelling her neck we don’t have a specific smell making us different then everyone else.”

Klaus rolls his eyes. “I don’t see you coming up with any better ideas.”

Kol asks. “You’ve been friends with her for three years and you’ve never noticed anything.”

Rebekah side eyes her older brothers. “Its not like we are doing ritual sacrifices and I can see if she heals quickly or lazer tag to see if she has night vision, we’re not doing cheerleading or gymnastics to see if she can jump high. Am I supposed to pretend to want to paint her nails and see if claws extend.”

“We need to find out before they find her that is if she is one of us.”

Xxx

Caroline works at a clothing store/bookstore with a cafe. She doesn’t understand the merge of the two but the clothing store goes into the little cafe off the bookstore. There’s no middle wall between the two. While at the counter of the clothing store a brunette teenager comes to her. “ I’m new to this town, do you know cool spots to check out?”

Caroline turns around and comes face to face with the new student at her school Stefan salvatore she had heard there was a new student. “There is a nice cafe over there. It’s California so people like to hang outside.”

Since it’s a slow day at the shop Caroline and Stefan sit in cafe and talk. “How do you like San Francisco so far?”

“Its nice my dad moves us around a lot. Its just the three of us my dad my older brother and me my mom died years ago.”

“I’m sorry, my dad left years ago its like he’s dead we never hear from him.”

As Stefan is leaving Caroline watches him leave he’s cute.

Xxx

All day Caroline has had this lingering feeling to visit coil tower, she doesn’t know why she visited this place when she was younger before her dad left. As she is walking up the stairs to the building she notices a man in all black and has scars on his face. Three claw marks down the right side of his cheek and neck. The man is watching her go into the tower. As she is looking around at the base of the tower she notices the guy is following her. She figures she’ll lose him going up to the tower since there are thirteen levels of stairs.

Xxx

Present:

Rebekah and Kol had snuck away to find Caroline’s body which people have started to surround around. As Kol and Rebekah are trying to get through Kol announces. “Nothing to see here folks just a prank.”

They hear a women say. “A prank I saw her fall from the tower.”

As Kol is lifting Caroline up Rebekah goes over to the women. “Are you sure your feeling ok your saying a lot of crazy stuff.”

Xxx

Klaus opens the door to the penthouse as Kol brings Caroline in, Rebekah rushes over to the couch to make room for Caroline’s body. Their older brother Finn who is on the phone with his wife Sage while looking out the window sees their reflections in the window and pulls the phone away from his ear. “Did you get to her before they did?”

“No but we did bring her here. When she wakes we will explain everything.”

Finn turns around to see Caroline’s lifeless body laying on the couch. “And how do you know this girl is one of us?”

Kol looks up at him. “She one handed tossed my basketball down a crowded hallway and made a perfect basket in a garage can.”

Finn puts the phone back to his ear to tell Sage he loves her and he’ll call her back. “How long has she been like this?”

All three of his younger siblings look at each other. “An hour.”

“The first death and the loss of innocence is always the longest to come back from.”

Xxx

As Kol’s popcorn is finishing in the microwave Caroline’s eyes open and she looks around at the dark penthouse she is in. Moonlight shining in from a wall of windows, she’s laying on a black couch and there two black chairs on each side of the couch. The last thing she remembers is being at coil tower and that creepy guy following her.

Rebekah is in her bedroom and Klaus is in his studio, Kol went to go make popcorn and Finn was in charge of watching Caroline’s body to see if it did something. While waiting Finn called Sage back he wasn’t paying attention to the couch and the now awake blonde.

Caroline looks around and sees Kol in the kitchen pouring popcorn into a bowl and a man she does not know talking on the phone she gets up and is a little lightheaded really confused on how she got here and her headache is still hurting. As she is going towards the elevator Kol comes out of the kitchen and puts an arm around her waist and picks her up.

“You can’t leave yet.”

She kicks him but it does nothing, she never know Kol was this strong. “What is happening and why are you holding me hostage?”

Kol carries her back over to the couch. “I know it looks like that but this is for you own good. Finn you had one job watch her. Can you get Klaus and Rebekah.”

Finn puts his phone back in his pocket. “I’m in charge here you go get Klaus and Rebekah I’ll watch her.”

“No offense Finn but you didn’t do a good job the last time and I think she could take you.”

Finn flicks his hand and claws comes out of his nails. “I think I can handle one teenage girl.”

Kol rolls his eyes and leaves the living room to get his brother and sister. Caroline looks at the elevator and Finn who is looking at his claws. “ I wouldn’t if I were you. Like my brother said I know this looks bad but we are trying to help you.”

“Help me by keeping me in this dark fortress.”

Finn looks over at her and raises an eyebrow. “Fortress, please this a penthouse.”

Kol re enters with Klaus and Rebekah and Caroline rushes for Rebekah and hugs her finally a friendly familiar face.

Rebekah gets her back on the couch and Klaus sits on the arm of the couch next to Caroline his feet on the couch and arms resting on his knees while Kol sits in a chair off to the side and Finn leans up against the window. Caroline looks at them and they are all looking at her. “Will someone tell me what is going on and how I got here?”

All the siblings look at each other none of them want to explain this it’s hard to explain. Klaus begins. “Kol picked you up after you fell and brought you here.”

Kol adds. “To your death you fell and died.”

Caroline shoots up and exclaims. “What I died. I’m dead, the afterlife is full of Mikaelsons. I can’t die it’s my sixteenth birthday I still have not got a car yet.”

Kol looks over at his siblings. “I don’t know whether to be insulted by that.”

Finn sighs. “How did I end up with this?”

“Freya is busy, Elijah is on a date and Sage is out of town on business.” Finn glares at his sister.

Klaus looks up at Kol while Rebekah tries to get Caroline to sit back down. “I was going to ease her into that tidbit.”

Rebekah gets Caroline to sit back down and is rubbing her arm up and down. “Your not dead... anymore. Look you are like us your Mai.”

Caroline looks over at Klaus and raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me I’m not yours.”

Rebekah tries this time. “No Mai are a group of people who have amazing abilities were not all human but not all god we are descendants of a powerful goddess Bestet we were once protectors of humans and used to help Pharaohs but we got sick of taking orders and the mai and humans had a falling out, for centuries now we’ve been hunted. That man earlier with the scars he was sent to kill you and if we didn’t intervene he would of kept killing you.”

“Kept killing me how many lives do I have?”

Finn from the windows tells her. “Nine we all have nine some refer to us as Demigods, our abilities manifest when we are teenagers.”

Caroline looks at Rebekah. “Is this a joke?”

Rebekah shakes her head no.

“I have claws like him.” She points at Finn.

Rebekah lifts Caroline’s hands up and her finger nails are longer and look like claws. Caroline’s eyes widen. “How do they go away?”

“Relax.”

“That’s easy for you to say you didn’t just learn you died and came back with claws and have had a headache all day.” She glares at Kol for telling her to relax.

Finn leans off the window taking charge. “I know you’ve just been told a lot of things and processing but maybe you would like to go home, you said it was your birthday why don’t you go home and celebrate.”

His three siblings look up at him Finn sometimes can be so insensitive. Caroline nods and Finn flicks a finger to Klaus to take her home.

In the elevator down to the lobby Caroline is pacing and Klaus stops her and puts both hands on her shoulders. “You need to relax did you forget that part where we are being hunted if someone sees claws they will try to kill us.”

Caroline nods and tries to make them go away by closing her eyes tightly but nothing. “Breath with me.”

As the elevator doors open the claws disappear.

Xxx

Klaus drives them to her house, as he drives he asks her, “You were born in the Ukraine right?”

Caroline nods. “How did you know?”

“Mai are not born in America, we come from Europe, Ukraine, Russia that’s where my family was born we moved to London later. Since Mai and humans have had a falling out we can never have a intimate relationship with them. You can not date a human I saw you earlier at that clothing store flirting with that new guy at school that’s all it can be Caroline if you kiss him something bad will happen.”

“Bad how bad?”

“If a Mai kisses a human the human dies best case scenario paralyze before death.”

Caroline turns towards him as he pulls up to her house. “Mai can only kiss mai.”

Klaus nods. “Want to practice.”

Caroline rolls her eyes. “Any more changes?”

“Claws, enhanced hearing, faster reflexes, hyper awareness, accelerated healing, night vision, your stronger now and what am I forgetting oh yeah a tail.”

“What?”

Klaus laughs “Just kidding. About the tail everything else you do get.”

As she is opening the car door. She tells him. “Not funny.”

“Don’t worry one of us will always be there for you, watching out for you.”

Xxx

As Caroline is coming up the front stairs of the two story home she shares with her mom. When she opens the door Davina and Enzo jump out and yell “Surprise!”

Caroline screams and in seconds Klaus is right behind her he places a hand on her shoulder and she jumps they both can hear how fast Caroline’s heart is beating. Klaus leans down and whispers in her ear. His breath tickling as she hears. “Breath.”

She looks up at him surprised he’s here, she thought he left how did he get there so fast. “You forgot this in the car.” He hands her a long black velvet jewelry box. “Happy birthday.”

Xxx

After he leaves Davina and Enzo surround her. “What was Klaus Mikaelson doing here? And what did he give you.”

“You two have had quite the journey today from where you two were this morning.”

Caroline rubs her temple she can hears heartbeats, car’s driving past, clocks ticking, conversations in other homes their TVs. People going for nightly jogs she can hear their music. “Its been an interesting day.” She opens the jewelry box and her eyes widen at the beautiful diamond infinity bracelet.

Liz comes home and sees her daughter and two best friends on the couch. “Your present is here.”

Caroline’s eyes widen and Liz puts her hands over her daughters and guides her outside and there in front of the house on the street is a powder baby blue convertible bug. “Ahhh thank you so much mom.” Caroline flings her arms around her mom’s neck.

Xxx

Later that night after Davina and Enzo went home Liz pulls out a small cinnamon crumb cake for two she gives Caroline and fork and they sit at the island and eat it. After they finish Liz tucks a piece of hair behind Caroline’s ear. “Did you have a good birthday sweetie.”

“It’s definitely one for the books.”

Liz pulls out a card and hands it to her daughter. “This was in the mailbox.”

The envelope does not have a return address it’s addressed to her. She opens the card and all it says is Happy Birthday H.R.

Every year she gets a card from H.R. she doesn’t know who they are and there is never a return address. She has all of them in a shoebox under her bed. One day she hopes to find out who H.R. is.

Xxx

As Caroline is drifting off to sleep Klaus is sitting on her roof watching to see if any harm will come to her. Also her email dings and it’s a email from her father that says happy birthday.

[aurorawest]

⭐️⭐️

I decided to go with this section from chapter 5 of Will you be my festar-man? Love and courtship in the New Asgardian court (or, How Loki Stopped Worrying and Proposed to Stephen Strange)!

Chapter 5 is the hårkullornas, a word I...kind of made up. But the thing itself is based on a real concept. This is the chapter where Loki weaves the thing out of his hair and Stephen’s hair. In this bit, Loki has just arrived at the Sanctum:

With a snort, Loki said “We will not be checking on her. That very much sounds like a job for the Sorcerer Supreme.” Glancing at the door that the creature had been trying to come through, which was now innocuously open to a sun-dappled, grassy hillside, Loki said, “That wasn’t the thing you were after the other night, was it?”

“No,” Stephen said. “That thing was a lot uglier.”

Callback to earlier in the chapter, when Stephen comes over to New Asgard to bone, then leaves to go fight some sort of creature.

I find that there’s a ton of comedic potential in Stephen’s enemies. I love to make reference to all these kinds of ridiculous things and play them off as funny. Tonally, think Beetlejuice, Ghostbusters, that kind of thing—where yeah, this stuff would be at home in a horror story, but I play it for laughs. The modern Doctor Strange comics do this a lot too.

“Mm hm.” Loki motioned to his own hair and said, “You have something on your head.”

Stephen reached up and felt the glop in his hair. “Probably calls for a shower.”

Smiling slightly, Loki asked, “Am I invited?”

“Well,” Stephen said, “it’s in your hair too, so yeah.”

When Loki made a face, Stephen chuckled. He opened a portal in the floor, draining the amniotic fluid to—somewhere. Sometimes Loki wondered if Stephen sent things like this to the same pocket dimension that he’d once sent Loki to. It was sort of an insulting thought. He’d get annoyed, but Stephen had apologized long ago for that.

We actually see this moment in my fic but it hasn’t been posted yet.

Once the fluid drained away, Stephen teleported them straight to the bathroom, where both of them stripped off their clothes. The Sanctum’s shower was really too small for the two of them to be in there at the same time, but it had never stopped them. Loki had to reach around Stephen for the soap and shampoo, which gave him the opportunity to lean against Stephen’s back and kiss his shoulder. Stephen grabbed Loki’s arm and wrapped it around his stomach, and Loki pulled him back against his own chest, leaving his lips pressed against Stephen’s skin.

Their positioning was very purposeful. One of my biggest pet peeves in the Loki fandom is like...really rigid gender norms, wherein Loki is feminized to an absurd degree. The kind of gender norms where Loki can’t top. Loki can’t be the big spoon. Loki can’t stand behind Stephen and hug him. Having Loki be even mildly more ‘dominant’ here (in that he pulls Stephen back against him) was a...counterpoint to that.

Loki’s clothes weren’t in much of a state to put back on, so he changed into some of Stephen’s. This was, personally, never his favorite thing to do, though he had to admit that the old sweatshirt and sweatpants were comfortable. 

There’s a head canon that floats around out there that Loki would love to lounge in Stephen’s comfy clothes. I don’t agree with that at all, but I do love the image of Loki in Stephen’s clothes. 

Unstylish, but comfortable.

I hc that Stephen is incredibly poorly dressed, and Loki is forever exasperated by it.

His own clothes got balled up, stuck in a garbage bag, and vanished to his pocket dimension to deal with later.

Aka, never, probably.

“In the interest of full disclosure,” Stephen said, “Music in the Park is happening again tonight.”

I had to add this because I realized it was Friday again, and I had established in chapter 3 that Music in the Park happens on Fridays in Washington Square Park.

“Not Haydn, I take it?”

“Mahler.”

“Ah. You must like Mahler.”

Stephen was still dressed only in his underwear, possibly because he was waiting to hear if they were going out, possibly because he just liked the way Loki was looking at him. With a shrug, he said, “What can I say; I like the Romantics.”

The amount of time I spent looking at various classical artists to determine which ones Stephen hates and which ones Stephen loves is honestly a little sad. I always say there’s like, a little Stephen Strange in my head, and he tells me what music he likes and what he doesn’t like (I realize that makes me sound like a crazy person). I have a Stephen’s Favorite Songs playlist, and there are songs on there that personally, I don’t really care for. But Stephen does! I just know it. I knew that Stephen would like the Romantic composers, but I had to find just the right one. And Mahler it was.

Rubbing at his damp hair, Loki looked at Stephen’s bed. There was a stack of books on the bedside table. Considering his current sartorial choices, sitting in bed and reading seemed like a better option than going out.

Plus…the hårkullornas. Perhaps it was better to give it to Stephen sooner rather than later.

Which could be said for other things, once the hårkullornas was out of the way.

Some innuendo.

Stephen was looking at him, waiting for an answer. There was a t-shirt in his hands, open and ready to be donned. Loki smiled at him. “If we stay in, does that mean you won’t get dressed?”

With a laugh, Stephen said, “Let me put a shirt on at least, Odinson. We have to leave something to the imagination once in awhile.”

Personally, Loki was hoping it was one of the shirts that was tight enough that it didn’t leave all that much to the imagination. 

Loki is so horny for Stephen.

[...] Loki held a hand out. The box with the hårkullornas appeared in his palm and he turned to face Stephen, thrusting the box at him. “Here. I made this for you.”

“Made what?” Stephen asked, pulling his shirt over his head. There was the barest flicker of trepidation on his face when he emerged. “It’s not more food, is it?” When Loki gave him a nonplussed look, Stephen said, “So…no?”

“I learned my lesson with the cake,” Loki said. Not really; the rest of the courtship just didn’t require any baking. 

I love to make Loki tell really minor lies, and this is a really good example. Oh no, I wouldn’t bake anything else, Stephen! No he totally would have if he needed to, but he sees absolutely no harm in telling this white lie.

And it was a good thing, too, because he didn’t think he’d be able to get Stephen to eat another baked good that he’d made.

“You’re a good cook,” Stephen said. “Just…maybe stick to Kringla Bakery for the other stuff.”

Kringla Bakery is the name of the bakery in the Norway Pavilion in Epcot at Walt Disney World. They have eplekake on the menu, which I did not realize until last time I was there a few weeks ago. Eplekake is the recipe Loki uses as a base for the cake he makes Stephen in chapter 3. We really came full circle on this one.

Rolling his eyes, Loki said, “Noted. Are you going to open that? I promise it isn’t food. Or the vague approximation of food.”

Kringla Bakery, honestly. New Asgard’s sole bakery catered to tourists and tourists only. Loki wouldn’t be caught dead in there.

New Asgard as a tourist destination is endlessly entertaining to me. It’s really versatile, too. Sometimes I play it for laughs, sometimes I turn it into this really kind of wistful, sad thing. This is supposed to be funny, hopefully obviously.

Thank you so much for asking!!

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

[fortitudinem]

   LIVING CONDITIONS - BEFORE THE BARRIER DROPS 

The living conditions on the Isle are pretty awful (understatement). The cloud overhead is mostly made up of smog, created by the residents burning trash on open fires in an effort to stay warm, or for something to cook on and water vapour. The barrier means these things cannot escape. This gives the air a hazy quality to it. It smells like smoke and burning garbage, if near the water the smell of drying seaweed and rotting wood also accompanies this. The higher up you are, the worse the air quality, which is one of many reasons no-one really attempts to bypass the mountains in the south of the Isle, the other reason being that it's where the evil-but-sentient-animals are. The cloud cover means that on a dull day it's hard to tell exactly what time of day it is. Sunlight never makes it through the cloud.

The streets are brightly coloured. Any spare paint that is brought over from Auradon is quickly repurposed to colour the exteriors of buildings. However, there are piles of trash, twisted scrap metal, broken boxes and other 'unusable' trash that have been left in alleyways. The streets and pavements themselves are dirty. Litter and graffiti are everywhere. Any paint is peeling, windows are broken or non-existent, rooves are leaky, buildings are dangerous, bordering on condemned.

Housing comes in different styles. Those without homes will live communally, sleeping in any public building they can find, or outside if it's warm. Weaker residents live in shacks made from wood and corrugated metal. These are often single rooms for an entire family. Tougher residents, or those with methods of defence live in terraced housing or apartment blocks, where they have access to an entire home or apartment, but they are in charge of defending it themselves and/or stopping other people moving in or robbing them. Important villains and people who have made a name for themselves can have their own individual housing. Some of these are villain lairs that have been transported to the Isle to keep them from being an eyesore in Auradon (Hell Hall etc.) and some are self-made (Ursula's chip shop having been placed in a natural cave with some wooden walls etc.). A detached, well-furnished house or lair is a sign of power.

Furniture is upcycled at best and falling apart at worst. As far as furniture goes, functional items are hard to come by. Having a couch at all is considered amazing, no matter how broken or lumpy. Tables are often too short, having had their legs sawn down to size to fix a wobbly one, or because one has had to be replaced. Chairs are always mismatched. Plates and cups are often cracked or chipped. Beds are usually just a frame with mismatched wooden slats, or rope strung across it. mattresses are also difficult to come by- any mattress they receive has already been used to the point of falling apart, so often springs need to be removed, or stuffing needs to be put back in. They are always lumpy and sagging, or otherwise broken or uncomfortable. People also make their own, using offcuts from clothing, straw and anything else they can find to pad them out. Bed frames strung through with rope are the most common form of sleeping surface. Most household furniture has been created or fixed on the isle. Nothing comes to the Isle whole.

The includes food. Food, when it comes, is half-eaten, rotting, stale or is otherwise literal trash. It is barely edible. Food is cooked only in restaurants, or over open fires. Most of what gets eaten on the Isle has already been cooked once or can be eaten raw. Almost no-one has a stove in their house and the few that there are are electric or wood burning (though often garbage is used instead of wood) and are reserved solely for businesses whose purpose is to supply food to the masses.  

Basic necessities are lacking or non-existent. Lighting has to be cobbled together, the most common form of lighting on the Isle are string lights that used to operate off battery packs but have since been wired into the mains, or paper lanterns and bulbs of coloured glass. Mains electric on the Isle is generated almost exclusively by wind and steam power. Steam power is generated by heating water using burning garbage and produces a high volume of pollution, so it is not used very often, only if there is a severe shortage of alternatives. There is no connection to the Auradonian electrical grid. Most houses on the Isle aren't connected to the mains electricity and do not have electricity at all. Energy is reserved for lighting the Isle at night and funnelling into the businesses that require energy to function and provide a valuable service, such as restaurants. It is an important commodity. Affluent or powerful enough villains can insist on having their houses connected to the electrical grid and it's common for lower class villains to highjack the system and steal power anyway, but ultimately only around 1/3rd of homes on the Isle have access to power.

Even less have access to running water in their homes. There isn't much in the way of fresh, running water on the isle to begin with, what natural water there is is funnelled from the mountains/hills in the south of the isle and collected there. Wells have been dug all over the Isle but proximity to the sea means they must be manually refilled regularly with water from the hills, or rain butts. Often the water goes untreated and residents must boil any water they intend to use for culinary purposes or risk using contaminated water.

Living quarters can be found on almost every suitable surface, especially in the warmer seasons you will find people sleeping on roofs or out in the open and in the cold months, indoor spaces that are usually marketplaces suddenly become packed with beds. Communal living is common and it's not unreasonable in exceptionally cold circumstances to find multiple beds pushed together and lots of people squeezed into them in an effort to keep warm. Personal space is a complex entity on the Isle and having your own separate living space is something only the most affluent and powerful villains are capable of doing, only because they are the only ones capable of scaring other people out of their space, or preventing them from accessing it.

This communal living extends to every aspect of living. Clothes that are not being worn are often taken by someone else. To have multiple outfits is considered a sign of power. Power is also denoted by the materials used (to be expanded on in a future post). Bathrooms are difficult to come by. There are often public baths, which is to say, there are baths with curtains around them in the town square and you can use them if you're brave enough and have a way to get the water there yourself (and can risk being publicly exposed or losing your top layer of clothing). Toilets are often communal too, though without running water, most operate on a bucket flush system, aka you fill a bucket with water from the nearest well and tip it down the toilet to 'flush', and hand washing is difficult to say the least. 'Sinks' are usually simply washbasins, that you can fill yourself or that may already be pre-filled but has also been pre-used. Washing clothes usually takes place in large tubs, or personal ones, with washboards. There are no washing machines on the Isle. Clothes often come out dirtier than they went in. Washing is hung above street level and due to the lack of sun, it usually takes several days to dry completely.

The sewage system is not great, which is why the need for public toilets came about. baths are usually not plumbed into anything and simply empty into the street, but toilets are set up to be connected to a system of pipes that leads to the ocean. It's not the most sanitary of things, but it's all they've got. Everyone avoids the area where it dumps out into the sea. No-one wants to go fishing or swimming near there. No-one would be willing to risk their health like that.

There is a total lack of trained medical care on the Isle. Though there may be a few residents that are trained medical professionals, there are no facilities for them to run safely. Clinics, surgeries and hospitals are virtually non-existent. Some residents have set up make-shift clinics in their homes, but the facilities are poor, there is no safe medical equipment and medicines are difficult to come by. There are occasions where someone in Auradon will throw away out-of-date medication, or won't finish their course of antibiotics etc and these end up on the Isle, but they are usually snapped up quickly. Bandages may be found on the trash barges or cut from fabrics. They are washed more thoroughly than anything else on the Isle, but that doesn't mean much. Most people make their own.

In fact, most residents take care of their own health. An illness (a cold, the flu, food poisoning, anything else) is usually combatted by rest alone (plus water if you have someone to care for you and fetch it for you). A strain or sprain is treated similarly, should the person be able to do so. A bone break is harder to fix and a rudimentary splint can be created, but there are no plaster casts. Walking sticks and crutches can be cobbled together out of wood. Physical wounds are easily the most dangerous injury. They need to be cleaned with alcohol, or in extreme cases fire. Stitches are generally avoided if possible, as making items sterile is difficult. If necessary, stitches are done with thread or, in a worst case scenario, dental floss. If painkillers must be taken, they are most likely to be self-prescribed. Alcohol is the most common. Natural bark can be used, despite the lack of flowering plants on the Isle and there are some opiate-like painkillers that the Heart family have been able to produce, but these are expensive and saved for those able to afford it.

The Isle is an extremely dangerous place to get an injury. But they're also pretty common. Any injury that would require surgery to fix is pretty much beyond what the Isle can offer. Limbs can be removed if gangrenous or otherwise infected, but that is the surgical limit unless you know where to go and can afford to pay. There may be a black-market surgeon or two on the Isle. A first-aid class is taught in schools to all the VKs.

There is a lack of education on the Isle, many residents are incapable of reading or writing at an adult level and most are unable to perform basic mathematic functions. Books are rare and when they do show up they are usually waterlogged, wrecked or immediately taken to Dr Facilier's library. Having a collection of books and being able to read is a sign of importance. Math is considered less important than reading. The system on the Isle is lacking in almost every area.

Originally there was only one school, but as more children were born, more schools started to open. Dragon Hall first and then Serpent Prep and the Witch Academy. Classes are taught on how to be as villainous as possible, but there is an element of survival included too. Skills like thievery and dark magic (theoretical only) are more highly prized than basic knowledge of math/english/science etc. Some children don't go to school at all, some are home schooled and some attend actual school- but even these classes are lacking. It is expected for students to turn up late and not partake in lessons or do their homework. Even children enrolled at school sometimes don't show up for class either because they don't want to, or because they have duties elsewhere. Most children above a certain age are expected to be in some manner of employment by or for their families.

The age a child is expected to work varies between households, but it is usually under the age of ten and by the time they are teenagers they are being given more complex, demanding jobs and/or being made to do backbreaking physical labour that the older villains can't or don't want to do. (I'll do a post about common jobs on the Isle in the future).

Mental health on the Isle is awful, never seeing the sun combined with all the other factors has led to depression being very common amongst all Isle residents. Though the adults are more likely to succumb to it and retreat into themselves and into their homes and stop interacting with the world, or to get angry with their children and raise a hand against them. With the lack of books, however, knowledge on the subject is rudimentary and basic. There is no real treatment for it.

While many residents are proud to be Villains or Villain Kids, no-one is proud of the Isle itself. The conditions are too awful. No-one feels like they really own anything so there's nothing for them to be proud of. But for a lot of them, it's still the only home they've ever known, so they're not going to be willing to abandon it in a hurry.

[cpd5021]

Unexpected - Chapter 16

This one is all over the place, kinda fluffy, a little angsty but not really, and definitely a little....rated M at the end 😉 . I wanted to move this along a little bit so we take a time jump in this chapter. Enjoy! 

A week had passed since Hailey and Jay had their heart to heart and things were good between them. Or getting there at least. Hailey was over at Jay’s apartment, which was soon to be Vanessa’s, helping him pack up the kitchen. Jay had told her he could extend his lease another month, give her more time and space to heal from his actions the week prior, but Hailey had told him it wasn’t necessary. They were talking and opening up more with each other than they ever had, which was saying a lot considering how much they had been through together over the years. But both of them were making a pointed effort to express their emotions and concerns to the other. Hailey was wrapping up some of his glasses in packing paper and Jay was working on his closest and dressers. They had decided to leave most of his furniture and, to Vanessa’s delight, his TV. Hailey’s house was fully furnished and Vanessa had next to nothing. 

“What do you think, should I leave this for V?” Jay asked, walking out of his bedroom holding a giant stuffed panda. 

“What the hell is that?” Hailey asked with a laugh. 

“That,” Jay said, setting the panda on the table and coming to stand beside her. “Is a long, drunken story. But, for the record, if Will ever challenges you to one of those claw machine games...just know, he’s the wrong Halstead for the job.” Jay winked and bumped her shoulder with his. 

“Noted.” Hailey nodded, still smiling. “I’m just about done in here. I packed all your collectible glassware but left the basics for her.” Hailey pointed to a box containing all of Jay’s NHL mugs. “Thanks again for letting her have all this stuff.” 

“Nah, no problem. I don’t have a use for it and if it helps her get on her feet that’s fine by me.” Jay shrugged it off, moving to tape up the last box. 

“Plus you’re saving me from having to go decor shopping with her. At least temporarily.” Hailey rolled her eyes when Jay chuckled at the thought. “Although she has been pestering me about baby shopping, even printed me out a list of baby necessities.” 

“It’s a tiny human, how much could it need?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“A lot apparently...” Hailey shook her head, thinking back to the full page list Vanessa had left on her desk. 

They finished packing up his bedroom and then hauled everything down to the truck, Jay taking more trips than Hailey when she found herself winded after the second trip. After everything was secured in his truck, they headed back to her house. To their house. Hailey would be helping Vanessa take her stuff to the apartment later but for now they just planned on unpacking the few boxes Jay was bringing. 

******

A few hours later, Hailey was passed out on the couch, seemingly exhausted from their afternoon of manual labor. Vanessa got home shortly after five, having been forced into some mandatory patrol detail by Platt. Jay sat on the couch, Hailey’s sleeping feet draped across his lap when the younger woman bounced into the room, her face immediately melting into a grin at the sight before her. 

“Awe, how cute.” She whispered, scrunching her face up with another grin. 

“Yeah, all that work knocked her out. I don’t think she’s going to be much help tonight.” Jay gave Vanessa a sheepish look, his smile faltering when he saw disappointment reach her eyes. “I can help you take your stuff over, that way you can settle in before you rope her into decor shopping.” Jay smiled, nodding towards Hailey’s sleeping form. “She’s super excited to go.” He knew he would pay for that later but he couldn’t help himself. Vanessa eagerly agreed, immediately turning to bound up the stairs to grab her belongings. Jay shifted Hailey’s feet off him, smiling when she didn’t even budge. He tentatively made his way up the stairs, unsure of how much Vanessa would actually have to take. He peaked into the room and saw her tossing a pile of clothes into a black garbage bag, the sight reminding him of some college kid and bringing a small smile to his face. She glanced up then, looking mildly embarrassed but quickly nodded towards a box in the corner of her room. Jay stepped in to pick it up and then carefully made his way back down the stairs and out into his truck. Vanessa joined him shortly after, stating that the bag and the box was all she had, looking embarrassed once again by her lack of belongings.

“When I got back from the Army, I spent almost a year bouncing around from place to place with nothing more than a duffel bag.” He told her trying to lighten the mood. 

“Yeah, I didn’t get to keep a lot in foster care and I guess it’s kinda stuck.” She shrugged, looking out the window. 

“Rest assured, you are now the proud owner of Chicago’s finest china, a giant TV and a prize winning panda bear.” Jay laughed as her face quickly went from excitement to confusion as he finished talking. 

 “Wait...what?” She asked with a laugh.

“Long story, but it’s one of my most prized possessions and now he’s yours.” Jay teased, earning another laugh. 

“I’m honored.” She fanned herself mockingly before clutching her chest. They continued in silence for awhile, neither having anything to really say. But Jay could tell there was something the younger woman wanted to bring up. 

“I feel like there’s something you’re holding back..” He finally pushed, using his newfound skill to state what was on his mind. 

“It’s not really my place...except it kinda is I guess because she’s the closest thing to family I have....just...just don’t hurt her Jay.” Vanessa spoke quietly, unsure of how he would respond. 

“She told me you were there for her in the hospital. I can’t thank you enough for that.” Jay tightened his grip on the wheel, remembering that night. “I should have been there. If something worse would have happened, I’d have never forgiven myself.”

“Yeah... It turned out alright though. And you two seem to be getting through it.” Vanessa sent him a small smile. 

“I promise I won’t do anything that stupid again.” He told her, but also promising himself at the same time. 

“And I promise I’ll kick your ass if you do.” Vanessa replied, half teasing half serious. 

“Deal.” Jay nodded, sending her a smile as they pulled into the lot. Jay helped her carry the box up into the apartment and then ceremoniously handed her the keys. “Take good care of it, it’s been through a lot.” Jay feigned emotion and pretended to wipe away a tear. 

“You’re a dork Halstead, but thank you.” Vanessa surprised him by suddenly stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his torso. Once he recovered he returned the gesture. “It’s the first time I’ve ever had my own place.” She told him shyly and he found her endearing. 

“Well I’ll leave you too it then. Have a good night Rojas.” He turned and shut the door behind him, unable to fight the smile on his face. He could see why Hailey liked her so much, there was something special about her. He jogged back down to his truck and quickly raced back home to Hailey, ready to settle into this new part of his life. 

                                      ****  (Months later) ****

“Hey mama!” Adam hollered as Hailey clambered the last step leading into the bullpen. Hailey huffed at his excitement and walked, or more so waddled, over to her desk. 

“Good morning Adam.” She said as she passed his desk. Jay bounded up the stairs after her, having dropped her off at the front door before going to park his truck in the lot. 

“Looking huge lady.” Kevin said, earning an immediate smack on the back of his head from Vanessa. “But still as beautiful as ever. Killin it mama.” He tried to recover, sending her an exaggerated wink. Hailey rolled her eyes but let him off with a chuckle. She plopped into her chair, letting out a huff of air as she hit the seat. 

“How much longer are you going to tough this whole work thing out?” Adam asked, nodding towards her protruding bump. At almost eight months pregnant Hailey’s stomach was more than noticeable, sticking out massively from her small frame. As soon as the words left Adams mouth, Jay was shaking his head behind her frantically, letting Adam know to late that it was a touchy subject. 

“As long as I please, thanks.” Hailey replied curtly, spinning to face her computer and effectively ending the conversation. Adam raised his eyebrows, meeting Jay’s look before shifting his attention back to his work. Jay settled into his desk and they all went about their morning. 

A few hours had passed, Hailey perched at her desk the entire time, working away at her suspiciously easy list Platt had left her. The tasks were getting easier and easier as the weeks went on and Hailey was sure Trudy was just trying to be nice. She glanced up to see Jay making his way towards her, a small bag of chips in hand. She smiled, happily taking them from him and pulling them open. 

“You should take a break, you’ve been sitting here all morning.” Jay smiled down at her, gently rubbing a shoulder. 

“I’ve been sitting all morning, how much of a break could I need?” Hailey replied teasingly. “I do have to pee though...” She chuckled, her frequent trips to the bathroom becoming a running joke between the two.

“You? Never!” Jay played along, earning another laugh. He reached his hand down to help her up, despite her brief look of protest she took his hand. When Jay pulled her up, Hailey felt the room sway and immediately leaned into him. “Hey you okay?” Jay asked, sounding concerned. 

“Yeah I’m...I’m good.” She blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her head. “Just really dizzy all of a sudden.”

“Here, sit back down.” Jay gently guided her back into the chair and then knelt before her. “Should we take you to Med?” 

“No Jay, I’m fine. Just stood up to fast.” Hailey tried to reassure him but she knew he wasn’t convinced. 

“Hailey you’re really pale..” He pushed, looking more worried by the second. Hailey looked around the bull pen, thankful that everyone else was out on something and her and Jay were alone. The last thing she wanted was more attention from her coworkers over being pregnant. 

“I’m fine Jay.” She looked up at him with pursed lips. “I am kinda nauseous though.” She told him weekly. 

“Do you want a cool rag for your face?” Jay stood as she nodded and hurried to the break room. When he returned, Hailey was bent over, elbows resting on her knees with her head in her hands. Jay knelt again, handing her the rag and then reaching one hand up to rub her back. “I really think we should go get you checked out. You look awful.” 

“Gee, thanks.” Hailey mumbled against the rag. 

“You know what I meant.” Jay replied, pressing his forehead against hers. 

“Yeah.” Hailey gave him a weak smile, the room around her still spinning. “Maybe going to Med wouldn’t be the worst idea, just in case.” 

“Agreed.” Jay stood back up, taking a hold of her arm and bringing her into a standing position. Her head instantly came to rest against his chest and her hands gripped his shirt, trying to steady herself. He kept a firm hold on her arms, making sure she stayed upright. Carefully, she lifted her head back up, a grimace on her face. 

“I need to go to the bathroom first.” She told him sheepishly. Jay turned them both and slowly helped her pad down the hall to the locker rooms. He led her all the way up to the stall, letting go when she gently shrugged out of his grip. He didn’t follow her in but lingered right by the stall door she had left open, just to be safe. Once she was done, he helped her stand back up and then they walked over to the sink where she quickly washed her hands. Hailey gripped the basin of the sink, face paling once again as she felt the room spin. Her stomach lurched and before she could realize what was happening she was sick into the sink. Jay rubbed her back with one hand, holding her hair back with the other. “Sorry.” She croaked out once she was done. Jay handed her some paper towels, his concerned eyes never leaving hers. 

“Don’t be, let’s just get you to Med.” Jay placed a gentle kiss on her temple. Once Hailey was almost certain she wasn’t going to be sick again, she let Jay lead her out of the locker room and towards his truck outside, his hands never leaving her body. Jay secured her into the passengers seat and quickly jogged around the front of the truck to the drivers side. On the outside, he appeared calm as he raced them to the hospital. But on the inside, Hailey knew he was freaking out. Both over her apparent ailment and the fact that he hated hospitals. They arrived, Jay parking the truck as close as he could to the entrance after she had refused to be dropped off and they slowly made their way inside. Hailey checked in and was instantly rushed up to the obstetrics ward after the nurse took one look at her pale appearance. The next hour was a whirl wind of commotion as nurses and doctors came in and out of her room, one hooking her up to an IV, another checking her blood pressure and looking concerned with the results, and yet another placing a monitor over her stomach to check on the baby’s well being. Finally, things settled down a little and now it was just Hailey and Jay in the room. He sat beside her bed in the chair and held her hand, gently stroking the back of it. 

“Thanks for being here.” Hailey looked over to him with a somber smile. 

“Of course!” Jay exclaimed, looking like there is no where else he would rather be. 

“I know you hate it...” She pursed her lips slightly, holding his gaze. 

“Don’t worry about me Hails, I’m here for whatever you need.” Jay dipped down and placed a soft kiss on her hand, just below the IV taped to her wrist. 

“You didn’t faint when they put that in, so that’s a plus.” Hailey teased, wiggling her wrist slightly in front of him. 

“I’m not that bad...” Jay scoffed, but quickly smiled because they both knew better. A soft knock on the door ended their conversation as a doctor came into the room. 

“Okay Miss Upton, I have a few results to go over with you.” He said, giving them each a quick smile. “First, baby is totally fine and appears to be happy and healthy in there. He’s got a few more weeks to cook so that’s where we need him to stay.” Hailey and Jay shared a look, both feeling relieved with his words. “You on the other hand, have developed high blood pressure, or the more technical term, pre-eclampsia. It’s not totally uncommon, but it is something that can cause more serious issues if it isn’t addressed properly. Luckily, you got here quickly and we were able to get it under control. Unfortunately, once an attack like this occurs it can likely happen again. So I’d like to put you on bed rest for the remainder of your pregnancy. Not saying you’ll actually need to stay in bed the entire time, but more of a warning to take things very easy. No heavy lifting, certainly no exercise, and no work.” As he finished his statement, Hailey’s heart sunk slightly at the thought of being stuck at home alone and unable to do anything. Jay gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and a look that said he would help her through it. Hailey nodded in agreement with what the doctor had said and after reviewing a few more results, he told them they could go home. Once he was gone, Hailey let out a sigh, fighting back her emotions. 

“Hey, I know this sucks. But it’ll be okay.” Jay tried to comfort her but the only response he received was a small nod. He helped her get dressed and then they headed out of the room, checking out quickly before walking to his truck. Hailey clambered up into the seat, brushing off his assistance and Jay made his way to the driver side. He shut the door and then looked over at her, his heart breaking when he saw the silent tears streaming down her face. He tossed the keys on the dash and scooted over to her, pulling Hailey into his arms as her tears turned into sobs. 

“I know..it’s stupid...to be this upset...” Hailey choked out between sobs, wiping at the tears running down her face. “But I just...I don’t want to sit at home alone...”

“It’s not stupid Hailey. And I promise you, you won’t be alone. I’ll tell Voight I need the time off.” He said, kissing the top of her head and rubbing up and down her arm. 

“You don’t have to do that Jay..I’ll survive.” Hailey let out a shaky breath, regaining control of her emotions. 

“I can though. Just say the word and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.” Jay squeezed her tightly, hating that she was this upset. 

“I know. It’ll be okay.” Hailey said, unsure if she was telling Jay or herself. 

“I love you.” Jay said, tilting her head up and planting a kiss against her lips. 

“I love you too.” She mumbled, returning his kiss. 

******

Hailey had spent, what felt like like, the longest week ever at home. The first day, she forced herself out of bed and into the shower. Deciding that even though she had no where to go, she might as well get herself ready for the day. After that though, she had spent the remainder of the day on the couch, watching Netflix until Jay had gotten home from work. The second day, Hailey attempted to be more productive and started by making herself a to do list of all the things that needed to be accomplished before their baby arrived. It was surprisingly long and Hailey felt overwhelmed as she added more and more items to the list. Platt’s lists paled in comparison to this one. She decided to start small and headed up to the room they had began converting into a nursery. Jay and Adam had spent a weekend hauling all of the furniture out of the room and preparing the walls to paint. As she stood in the doorway, taking in the empty room with it’s new, freshly painted light grey walls, she rubbed her belly and felt a smile creep onto her face. The boxes containing the crib, dresser and changing table, all yet to be assembled, laid in the middle of the floor. She started with the smallest box, which was the changing table, and pulled the pieces out one by one. The instructions didn’t seem to bad and she figured she could have it done in less than an hour. Three hours later, Jay returned home, Vanessa and Kevin in tow, along with two large pizza’s from Bartoli’s. The trio headed up the stairs and all stopped at the sight in the bedroom before them. Hailey sat in the middle of the floor, looking more that frazzled with her hair a mess, and tightening the last screw on the new changing table. Jay cleared his throat and Hailey’s head whipped around, smiling when she saw the group in the doorway. 

“I figured you’d be up here.” Jay smiled, recalling the picture of the to do list she had sent him earlier. “So I thought I’d bring some back up and some food.”

“My hero.” Hailey smiled, lighting up at the sight of the pizza boxes. “My hero’s, I should say. Didn’t you say you were a master at putting cribs together?” Hailey asked, looking towards Kevin. 

“You know it.” Kevin replied, rubbing his hands together and stepping in the room to get to work. By the time Hailey had finished her second slice of pizza, Kevin had almost the whole crib assembled. 

“Impressive.” Hailey smiled, taking in the new piece of furniture. Jay scoffed from his corner of the room where he was still figuring out the pieces of the dresser he had been tasked with assembling. 

“He’s good with his hands.” Vanessa mumbled, causing Hailey to choke on the sip of water she was taking. Her eyes bugged out as she looked towards the younger woman, receiving a shrug and a smirk that said, I’ll tell you later. Kevin moved over to help Jay finish his assembly as Vanessa scrolled through page after page of nursery decor items or baby clothes, excitedly showing Hailey each time she found something cute. Hailey smiled at the sight before her and was thankful for the makeshift family surrounding her. After another hour, all the furniture was put together and the four of them stood in the center of the room, taking it all in. Vanessa had informed Hailey she had tomorrow off and eventually talked her in to a shopping trip for decor and baby clothes, promising Jay they would take it easy and rest whenever Hailey needed. Hailey begrudgingly agreed, knowing she wasn’t going to win the battle anyway. After Kevin and Vanessa left, suspiciously together, a fact Hailey would be bringing up tomorrow, Jay stood in the entryway and drew her into a hug. 

“So, how far did you get on the list?” He asked, resting his chin on top of her head. 

“Ummm...I almost got number one done, which was assemble the furniture...” Hailey chucked against him. 

“In your defense, that stuff was impossible to get together. I swear they made it harder just because it’s for tiny people.” Jay shook his head, earning another laugh from Hailey. “What’s next?

“I think it was to get our hospital bags together, but Vanessa pointed out I can’t do that yet since we don’t have any clothes for him...” Hailey rubbed her belly and gave Jay a sheepish look. 

“I follow you. Well I think number two said that you need to relax after a long day of manual labor.” Jay grinned at her, an idea quickly forming in his head. 

“What did you have in mind Halstead?” Hailey quipped, tilting her head in question. 

“Maybe..a warm bath..some candles..a back rub?” Jay stepped closer, placing his hands on her hips and closing the distance between them.

“That sounds amazing.” Hailey smiled, biting her bottom lip and watching Jay’s eyes darken at the sight. 

“Good, follow me.” Jay took her hand and gently tugged her to follow him up the stairs, leading her to the bedroom where he instructed her to set on her bed. Jay dipped into her bathroom, turning on the tub faucet and lighting her array of candles before returning to her in the bedroom. He helped her to stand up, placing a soft kiss against her lips as his hands made their way to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her belly and then up and over her head. His hands rested against her waist and he gave her another quick kiss, running his hands up her sides before snaking them around to unclasp her bra. Hailey reached her hands up to rest on his shoulders, pulling him down so she could give him a proper kiss. As their mouths worked against each other, Hailey let out a soft moan and Jay took advantage of her open mouth to dart his tongue in, eliciting another moan from her lips. He pulled back with a grin on his face as Hailey pouted at the lack of contact. 

“You’re not relaxing...” He whispered, kneeling down in front of her to pull down her pants, tugging her underwear down slowly before helping her step out of the clothing. 

“You’re not helping...” She replied, tugging him back to meet her lips as he stood. Hailey reached down, undoing his zipper and pushing his jeans down. Jay pulled back again to look at her, his eyes filled with lust.  “Join me?” She asked, nodding towards the bathroom. Jay nodded and they walked into the other room. Jay helped her lower down into the water before stripping off the rest of his clothes and sliding in behind her. Hailey leaned back against his chest, rubbing gentle circles across her large abdomen as Jay moved his lips up and down her neck. His hands came up to her shoulders, pushing her to sit back up and then starting to rub them with expert hands. Hailey melted into his touch, arching slightly as his hands traveled lower, working the tight muscles of her back. Hailey gripped his thighs, resting on either side of her under the water, as he made his way down to her lower back. His mouth returned to her neck then, trailing lazy kisses under her earlobe and causing her to shiver. 

“Jay...” She breathed out when he nipped softly at the spot that always drove her wild. He slid one hand around to her chest, working her breast with his palm. Hailey moaned as he teased her hardened nipples between his fingers. His other hand moved down between her legs in the water, dancing around the spot she needed him the most. Hailey leaned back into him, feeling his growing excitement pressing into her back. Jay’s fingers found her core then and he entered her tantalizing slow. His mouth still nipped at her sensitive skin and Hailey was already close even though she knew he was trying to take this slow. “Jay..please...” She pleaded, needing the release he was teasing her with. At her words, Jay picked up the pace of his fingers, angling his palm to rub against her sensitive bundle of nerves. His other hand was still working her breast and she could feel her walls begin to tremble. 

“Are you ready?” Jay asked, already knowing the answer. Hailey couldn’t speak through the pleasure coursing over her body so she frantically nodded against him. Jay nipped at her neck again and it was enough to send her over the edge. She arched above him as her orgasm crashed into her, crying out his name as her walls shook around his fingers. He continued to pump into her, letting her ride out her orgasm, before finally slowing as she came back down. He kissed her neck, dipping forward to trail kisses along her jawline as she settled against him, her ragged breathing slowly evening out. Hailey reached her hand back to rub the back of his head lovingly. 

“I owe you.” She teased, eyes heavy and lips forming a small smile. 

“I’m only focused on you tonight. You’re beautiful Hailey.” Jay mumbled against her skin. 

“Let’s move this to the bed.” Hailey whispered, craving more of his body. Jay nodded and gently pushed her up so that she was sitting. He stood and stepped out of the tub, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist, barely concealing his excitement. He reached his hands down to help her stand and step out onto the rug. Next, Jay grabbed the other towel and began drying her off slowly, his lips trailing over the skin after the towel was done. He started with her arms, shifting down and across her chest. Hailey arched into him as his quickly sucked on her sensitive nipple. He padded the towel over her belly, kissing all the way down until he knelt before her. Hailey gripped his shoulders to steady herself as he dried one leg off, kissing the soft skin of her thigh before giving the same attention to her other leg. Once he was satisfied that she was dry enough, he stood and led her into the bedroom. Hailey sat on the bed, scooting back and then laying down on her back, stretching her hands out for him to join her. Jay’s eyes traveled up and down her body, a smile forming as he took in every inch. He came to the edge of the bed between her legs, leaning down to kiss her softly before pulling away once again, still hovering over her. 

“You’re beautiful.” He said again, moving down to kiss her collarbone. His mouth moved south, once again working the sensitive skin of her breast. He trailed kisses down her protruding belly before kneeling in front of her. Jay gripped her legs, sliding them apart and working his mouth from her knee to the part of her leg that met her hip bone, repeating his ministrations on the other leg before placing one soft kiss against her core. Hailey’s hips bucked up at the contact and she gripped at the sheets, knowing what was coming next. Jay’s tongue gave one long lick from her aching core up to her bundle of nerves, lapping at the wetness that had gathered there. His mouth closed around her bundle of nerves, sucking gently while flicking his tongue across her throbbing clit. Jay slid one, and then two fingers into her aching heat and she was quickly arching on the bed above him. Hailey breathed out his name, again and again, as he worked his magic, bringing her impossible close to the edge. 

“Ah...Jay...” She exclaimed as he sent her crashing over the edge once again. Once he was done swallowing her gush of arousal, he kissed his way back up her body, Hailey moaning when their mouths met and she could taste herself. She reached down, grasping his hardened member and working the tip with her palm. Jay’s hand covered hers, slowing her movements. 

“It won’t take much...” He sheepishly admitted, dipping down to kiss her again. Jay motioned for her to scoot back on the bed, allowing him to climb on as well. Her belly made certain positions impossible but they had managed to get the angle down as her stomach had grown. Hailey moved all the way back on the bed and Jay grabbed a pillow, expertly sliding it under her hips. On his knees, Jay shifted to come between her legs, gripping her thighs in his hands and lining himself up with her core. Hailey looked up at him, lower lip clamped tightly between her teeth as he slid into her. Jay’s full length entered her warm and they both moaned at the contact. He started slow, letting her adjust to his length but soon she was begging for more. He thrust into her, his own orgasm almost there. When he knew she was getting close, he brought his thumb to tease her bundle of nerves and watched as she arched below him, her orgasm hitting her quickly. A few more flicks of his hips and Jay exploded into her as her walls quivered around him. 

After they separated, Jay lay beside Hailey, trailing his fingers up and down her side as she curled into him. 

“That wasn’t very relaxing.” He teased, causing her to chuckle against him.

“It was perfect.” She whispered. Eyes shut but a smile on her face. “This whole staying home thing won’t be so bad if you come home and do that every night.” 

“Your wish is my command.” He said, earning a wholehearted laugh from her. 

“Good night Jay” She told him, stifling a yawn. 

“Good night Hailey.” He kissed the top of her head and felt her quickly drift off to sleep. 

[etraytin]

Quarantine, Day 236-238

November 2-4  Well, it's been a hell of a few days but I have to write the journal entry sometime, I suppose. Monday night I went to bed super early and last night I was exhausted and heartsore, and today I've got a nervous stomachache that just won't quit, but if I'm journaling this year, this is going to be a pretty important inflection point.  Monday was a day where not a lot happened, or not a lot I can remember at this point anyway. I made my butternut squash soup in the evening so I could take it to the precinct in the morning and put myself to bed at 10pm, several hours earlier than normal because I had to wake up at four. I didn't sleep great, but I used the Boring Books for Bedtime podcast to get me to sleep and I was able to get some rest. I also laid out my clothes ahead of time so I wouldn't have to wake my husband up at that hour just so I could get dressed.  Tuesday morning I woke up, showered, dressed and packed up my bag for the precinct, all in less than an hour. I wound up cutting it a little close at the end, so when I got to the car and realized I'd forgotten my piping hot travel mug of pumpkin spice coffee with pumpkin spice creamer, I reluctantly went on without it. There was coffee from a machine at the precinct, but it definitely was not as good. But I did arrive on time, so that was good. There is a lot to do in the hour between 5am and 6am when the polls open. 

My position this election was procedural specialist, which basically meant that whenever a situation cropped up that required a procedure, I was the one who went and did it. This was things like "voter with absentee ballot wants to trade it in for a regular ballot," "voter with absentee ballot does not have their ballot and will have to vote provisionally," "voter is not on the pollbook and is not 100% sure whether they are registered, but wants to vote provisionally just in case they are," "something about voter has changed, usually married name or address, and they need to fill out a new voter registration form while they are voting" and "voter has no ID/ voter wants to give us a hard time about ID and needs to fill out the confirmation of identity form before voting." There's a lot of stuff to remember, and I crammed pretty hard in the days before the election, as well as stuffing my manual with post-it flags for important topics. 

During a busy election, being a procedural specialist could be pretty daunting, even overwhelming. Every unusual voter has to be handled carefully, to give their vote the best possible chance of being counted. Lucky for me, our precinct had very heavy early-voting representation. Out of 2200 registered voters, more than 1300 had voted early in person or gotten absentee ballots in the mail. We only had 398 voters all day long, which is primary-light turnout. It was a little funny because we'd staffed for a contentious and complex presidential election and had nearly double the usual staff load for an election, and all of us sat around almost all day. I wound up with only six provisional votes all day, plus four ID forms, four or five voter registration updates, and three absentee-for-regular ballot switches. Unfortunately situations seemed to crop up everytime I went to the bathroom for awhile in the morning, but I had a lot of downtime.  We did have some extra staff positions that needed filled, so it was good we had some extra people. There was an outside team of four people, keeping an eye out for any trouble, handling curbside voting, and directing people to the correct door for voting or vote dropoff. We had one position for "drop box guard" because every precinct in Virginia was also an authorized drop-off location for absentee ballots on Election Day. The election board was quite concerned about the possibility that somebody might abscond with a whole damn ballot box, even though it's the size of a school-age child, so somebody had to sit next to it all day long despite the fact that we only got three dropoff ballots. And of course there were the sanitizers, people whose job was to follow every voter leaving a station and sanitize that station with disinfectant before the next voter arrived. Other than that, though, we had a lot of extra people and mainly used the day as an opportunity to train the newbies. I spent four hours in the afternoon not even working the pollbook, but watching other people work the pollbook to make sure nobody made any mistakes. It was incredibly boring.  The last hour of the night, after the polls close, is even busier than the first hour of the morning. Everybody really wants to go home, and of course the registrar is chomping at the bit to get the vote totals, but everything has to be done exactly right or we all get in trouble. In Virginia, there are a dozen boxes and envelopes that need to be filled, accounted for, sealed and returned to the office at the end of the night. Each envelope needs specific paperwork, and each paper requires the right signatures. The actual used paper ballots go in their own box, marked on the top, sealed with tape, and then further sealed with three security labels signed by every officer of election. Normally with 12 officials this is not a big deal, but getting 22 names onto those labels this time was an exercise in writing very small. We were in good shape at the end of the night because we'd had no discrepancies and only one incident all day (Laptop 3 crapped out around 3pm, leaving us with two pollbooks for the rest of the day but it didn't matter because turnout was so light that we never had any lines), but it was still a lot of work.  My particular job was to shepherd the provisional ballots and the provisional ballot log and make sure they got where they needed to go. I had to have a second officer of the opposing political party ("Hey, I need a Republican who isn't doing anything!") count the six ballots with me, affirm that there were six ballots on the voting log, and then sign and seal them into their envelope. After that I helped get documents into the correct envelopes and make sure that everything got sealed according to the extremely arcane rules. It was honestly the most exciting and fast paced part of the entire day, and we broke down and packed up the entire precinct in only ninety minutes.  I went home exhausted to watch results, and of course it wasn't what we'd been hoping for. I can't believe so very many people are still totally ready for more of Trump's bullshit and incompetence. It honestly boggles my mind how such a hateful man gets so many otherwise reasonable people to vote for him. Even though I understood in principle the idea of a red mirage with early ballots being counted late, I was heartsick when I went to sleep and despite being exhausted, I slept very poorly.  This morning the news was better, though not great. A close race means litigation, and of course Trump claimed victory overnight despite huge numbers of uncounted ballots. He is human garbage. Our Democratic congresswoman held her seat, and her opponent made a gracious concession speech that was actually eloquent and nice. It's bizarre how quickly something like that becomes an oddity. But most of the mail-in ballots were for Democrats, as predicted, and the outcome is better, though still far from certain. After all these failures of prediction, I'm afraid to believe in anything at this point. But maybe tonight I will at least get some sleep.  Despite everything, life went on today. The kiddo had a day off for teacher workday because it's the end of the first quarter already. Jesus. I cleaned up the kitten room enough that my husband can now use it as the office it actually is supposed to be, so he worked in there today and I got my bedroom back. That was a high point of the day, definitely. I got my period, so that sucked, but at least I could lay in bed for awhile and not be on camera for a bunch of college students. In the morning I drove down and transported a cat to the recovery room for spaying tomorrow, which closed up another TNR site. We're picking away at our list, slow but sure, but it just keeps getting longer. There are  so many cats!  Later in the day, I noted that the kiddo had been using a lot of screen time and we had a discussion about whether he'd done the chores to actually earn those points. He cleaned out the dishwasher and went to clean his bathroom, and I was just about to start dinner when I heard the terrifying dual noises of running water and "MOM! THE TOILET IS FLOODING!" And it sure was, with gusto! I ripped the tank lid off and grabbed the float to stop the water running, and made the guys grab every towel in the house to get water off the floor before we gave the downstairs neighbors a bath. The flood lasted only about 30 seconds, but it put quite a bit of water on the floor. I was able to get the flapper back in place and determine nothing in the tank was actually broken, the flapper had just gotten stuck when the overflow began and it had cascaded from there.   But what had caused the backup? There was no waste in the water, one small blessing, just lots and lots of disintegrating toilet paper bits. The kiddo admitted that he'd had an inspiration while cleaning the toilet. There was a lot of gunk under the rim, he had explained, and he thought that if he could get the water high enough in the bowl, it would wash away the gunk with no need to scrub. So he'd taken a bunch of toilet paper and shoved it in the toilet to block it up, gotten the bowl nice and full, and then immediately realized he'd created a situation he couldn't stop. (He seemed to have been planning to use the plunger to remove the blockage, not realizing quite how much toilet paper he was using.) He was extremely contrite about the whole thing and promised to run future brilliant cleaning ideas past a parent for review. The clog proved highly resistant to plunging, and after an hour I was almost ready to throw in the towel and call maintenance to snake the damn thing. As a last ditch effort, I completely emptied the bowl, then filled it with a bucket of the hottest water I could coax from the bathtub, and used that to plunge. It worked, and the toilet finally flushed. Whew.  And then I had to make supper! I put together a nice meatloaf and preheated the oven, only for smoke to come pouring out of the damn thing. See, yesterday while I was working the polls, my husband cooked something, chili I think, in the oven, and realized that the pot he was using was much too full. He put a pan under it, but apparently the pot was much-much too full, because it overran that and the pan and got all over the oven and set off the smoke alarm. He'd wiped out the oven, but I think he missed the broiler and that's why it smoked right up again. At this point I just sighed and started looking for microwave meatloaf recipes. I did find one, and though it was not as good as oven meatloaf, it was edible, and I was really very done with household tasks for the day.  Now it is getting late and I'm beat, but the nerves won't go away. It is so hard to be in the same position as four years ago, disappointed in your country, terrified to hope for anything, but clinging to the possibility that things will be okay. It hurt so badly before, even worse than now I think, because it was so shocking. I guess it's like the first time your home gets ruined by a flood versus the second time, both times your house is ruined, but the second time at least you weren't surprised that something like this could happen. I wish I knew how to get off this flood plain. On the other hand, my Tumblr post of kittens has really taken off and has over a thousand notes. Apparently I was not the only one in need of high-octane cuteness to give my brain a few seconds of peace and happiness. I'm going to try and get some sleep now, here's hoping for better dreams and better tomorrow. Please, please, please. 

[jlf23tumble]

Top 10 Niche Interests

Fixations? Obsessions? This is incredibly hard because I have wayyyy too many niche interests, so instead of stressing about it, I tried to channel the 10 things that immediately speak to me and maybe aren't so obvious from what I post here, like how much I'm obsessed with wigs, doll furniture, incredibly specific blogs, all forms of clothing with pockets, swimming pools, whimsical bus stops, over-the-top bathrooms, etc. etc Instead, I opted for some specifics that feel a little more evergreen and long tailed, like, so LIFE-long tailed that it's tough to nail down when or how they became part of the national psyche. I thank @alienfuckeronmain​ for the initial tag, and I'm tagging her AGAIN for round two because I know she has a billion additional niche things, and she'll post them, and I'll scream because it'll trigger five other things I neglected to post here, and I'll probably post my own round two, arggggh, insert aggressive sighing. Anyway, I tag ANYONE who wants to do it, just tag me so I can see! 

1. Indoor Trees

I have no idea why this concept PULLS so hard because houseplants are kind of meh to me, but you want to plant an entire-ass TREE indoors, in the place where you live? Me, too, and I'd add a conversation pit plus a combo gold/red bathroom, among other things, and, bam, we're in my imaginary dream home, which I have literally, constantly ALWAYS mentally constructed from the time I was about six or so. (If you're curious, it has multiple themed rooms, and the closest I've seen to it recently is the outstanding Dita von Teese AD feature, but Amy Sedaris’s apartment comes close, too). There are two (2) 1960s houses in Long Beach with magnificent indoor trees, but I can't find them online, so have this modern interpretation and cry with me about how I can't visit the multi-story fake tree inside Clifton's Cafeteria for a good long while:

2. Conventions of Fans of Any Kind

One thing that I don't think I'll ever lose is how much I *love* people who are fans of SOMETHING, people who have a passion and create something about it or cosplay it or simply gather to celebrate it and connect to other people through it. The Internet provides in all kinds of ways, but I'm talking specifically about IRL conventions and the way my heart pitter pats when I first walk in those doors, SWOON! And it doesn’t matter how big the convention is or how random, I've been to smaller events like CatCon and the My Little Pony convention all the way up to biggies like WonderCon and Comic Con, and I have yet to be disappointed. I might know jack shit about what I'm walking into, but I want to see the merch, hear about the panels, and check out the people who are fucking PUMPED to be there. Sadly, I think it's gonna be a lonnnnng time until these come back, but I can live vicariously through my old photos, sigh:

3. Dutch Wax Fabrics and African Fashion

I'm not the snazziest of dressers, but textiles, colors, and patterns have been an obsession that has soothed my visual soul for as long as I can literally remember. Wax fabric marries all three of those touchpoints, plus throws in a healthy dose of style, and I count myself lucky to have seen two big exhibits on the subject (this was one of them), oh, how I wish there were more! For sure, there's a fucked up underlying colonial/imperialist history here, but there's also humor and color and vibrancy, a reclamation of sorts, and multiple levels of fashion that take my breath away. I cannot do the different patterns justice at all, but the fan motif is one of my faves:

4. Hearst Castle vs. Madonna inn

These two fall into my #home tag because they're where I'm from, and they speak to me as equally sublime and ridiculous, camp and kitsch writ large and small, different (yet similar!) versions of Xanadu that two rich white men built as shrines to their own personal "taste." And the irony is that a lot of people shit on Alex Madonna for being tacky (the Madonna Inn is...uh, something else), yet praise WR Hearst for all the high-class art and architecture, most of which is fully lifted from desperate churches between and after world and yet they're both more or less the same concept (lodging for weary travelers, self-aggrandizement, questionable taste-mixing). Hearst Castle edges out slightly for me because it's bigger and has spectacular scenery and history, plus it gives me doses of LA noir thanks to the way Hearst killed a guy in a jealous Charlie Chaplin-related rage and Hedda Hopper covered it up, all kinds of old Hollywood shenanigans happened up there, etc. But I'm low-key an expert on both houses of the holy, I'm OBSESSED with both, and we can leave it at that. I mean, come on:

5. Snow Globes

I had to cull my personal collection slightly just to fit it all on the dedicated shelf in my bathroom, and I seriously need to refill all the water lines, but nothing beats a snow globe in terms of memorable souvenir, especially when you put it in a bathroom. The majesty!!! The jewel of my collection is the one from Sherwood Forest because WHY NOT celebrate a historic place and moment in the basic way?? He robbed from the rich to give to the poor, and the gift shop about 100 feet from the tree he hid in does the same! The circle of life! The irony of all the watermarks on this blessed image...protect:

6. Highly Specific Museums

Look, we can all agree that the more venerated museums in the world are a form of garbage in terms of what they represent, what they've done, and who runs them, but I'm here for the museums that collect and celebrate things that tend to get overlooked. There are too many to list that I love that are still thriving, so I'm going to say goodbye to four recently departed faves. RIP to the Pez museum, I'm so glad I saw you and purchased your stale candy souvenirs. RIP to the museum of terrible food, you were a pop up when Phoenix and I saw you, and I will forever think about the worker describing people literally vomiting during their visits. RIP to the currywurst museum in Berlin, I've had currywurst exactly once and it was not for me, but I respect the Journey you took me on, including obscure east German TV shows that helped make you so popular (??). Finally, RIP to the velvet painting museum, there's no way to mince words, the person who owned you was crazy AS FUCK and had zero clue how to run a business, but I'm so glad I saw you multiple times and purchased my own velvet treasure (not this exact one, but remarkably similar):

7. Liminal Spaces: Grocery Store Edition

Confession time for those who don't know me all that well, I'm a big time voyeur, and nothing fills my heart with joy like a walk at 7 or 8 pm, the witching hour when people haven't pulled the curtains, and I can scope out their decorations/furnishings without it being "weird." Another confession is how much I unabashedly adore grocery stores in other countries and will spend at least an hour wandering aisle by aisle, falling in love with how much everything is different yet completely the same:

8. Agatha Christie Novels:

As a child, I was a fairly compliant reader--I had to read something for school? Okay! For my mom? Sounds good! But the books that sparked the initial fire for me to read something purely for myself were second-hand (probably fourth- or fifth-hand, judging by cover art) Agatha Christie short story anthologies, which were the gateway drug to full Agatha Christie novels, then other mystery novels, and so on. But getting back to Agatha, I obviously loved all the stories, but every decade spawned incredibly good cover art (like, exceptionally good), and this particular artist's are right up near the top for me (I go back and forth on a lot of the '50s and '60s ones):

9. Scopitones

I link my obsession with scopitones both to my love of music videos in general and a shop in Austin, TX, that sold DVD compilations of them in particular, but either way, they're underappreciated and kitschy all in one! Francoise Hardy and the rest of the ye-ye's are my forever girls for this medium, but seemingly every country cranked them out, both actual set videos and "live" performances? If you don't know what they are, scopitones were machines that played music videos in French cafes in the '60s (??), so it was sort of your proto-MTV way to see your faves sing and dance. Oh, Francoise...so moderne!!

10. Cover Songs

I have so much patience and love for cover songs of any stripe, the more genre-bending and/or surprising, the better! My only minor beef is the trend in slooooooooowing down songs to make a point, but even those ones have a special place in my heart if they're effective. Live Lounge feeds my hunger the best, but my meta fave for representing this concept is Pulp's Bad Cover Version, which was already lyrically INSPIRED, a song about bad cover versions in terms of relationships, but then they did a video that was a visual "bad" cover version, with actors lip synching over an audio "bad" cover version, and all of it just worked? The cover for the single is someone in the band as a boy, making his own bad cover version of a Bowie album cover, it's meta meta meta, and I love love love, here's the video, if you're curious. In the more sublime cover category, I'm absolutely addicted to all of Orville Peck's covers, I truly hope he officially releases them sometime soon, but I wholeheartedly support any artist who does it:

[drunknihilist]

How’s My Life? I don’t know I Never Really Had One.

I was born in 1990, from 93 to 98 I was raised middle class in the country. Anything I wanted my dad bought it for me because he worked at Goodyear. My mother turned my word upside down from 98 to 2002 when she told me he wasn’t my real father and she was divorcing him. She wound up cheating on him and moving me in with an alcoholic former marine that locked me in a walk in closet for 4 years and for 3 of them when he wasn’t beating me I was his boyfriend and he never worked. 

If I chewed my fingernails he beat me. If I didn't turn the light switch off before I left a room he beat me. If he caught me trying to sneak food out of the fridge he beat me. He shattered a flashlight over my head for bringing home a bad report card in front of my mother. He gave me a handjob with my pants on while my mom was sitting in front of me a few times and even though she looked me in my eyes she didn't say a word just kept watching television. He made me read porn magazines and watch pornographic films with him since I was 9 years old. He would make me hold his cock when he went to the bathroom to take a piss. I would wake up to him in the middle of the night having sex with me so I start sticking objects inside of myself thinking that if I stretched out the area that maybe I would be able to handle it more easier. There were even times where I would feel unusually tired between 5-7 in the evening which was around the same time he was taking me on these gun shooting trips with a man named George Reynolds and I have my suspicions that he was giving me drugs and letting him have sex with me when I was passed out. He stuck loaded guns to my head threatening to kill me if I told any of my teachers about it. So I was kept in solitary confinement and fed one or two meals a day to keep me alive so they could get my SSI check in the mail to buy beer with it.

I spent my 8th grade year living at my grandmothers house away from all the abuse and I actually made the honor roll. So my mom leaves him and meets my little brothers dad and talks me into moving in with her again and I spend 03 to 06 repeatedly getting grounded while his family bullied and beat me so they could get my SSI check in the mail and buy more beer with it. To make matters worse when we had to move out of a place in west logan his daughters left my belongings on the property after they moved their stuff out and the property owner threw all of my stuff in the garbage. The only thing I had to my name was the clothes on my back and I didn't even know that it happened until my mother called me and told me about it.

Then I told my grandmother I had enough and I want to move in with her she welcomed me with open arms. I actually went to the dentist for once because my mother never took me in the past ten years and I figured out I had 11 cavities in my mouth. I didn’t know how to interact socially around people so the friends that I did manage to make became a second family to me. So from 06 to 08 I was more focused having a social life and having two short term relationships than I was on my school work so I barely even graduated high school.

A woman that I wanted to marry that I spent 9 months with off and on and I lost my virginity to told me to meet her across town so that she could go back to my grandmothers house to meet my uncle in the basement for a quickie out of revenge for me breaking up with her multiple times and only got caught because my step sister walked in on the two of them so I spent the end of 08 to 2010 getting a lot of casual encounters out of my system trying to forget about her but nothing made me feel better.

From 2010 to 2012 I tried to get a job but I have had such an emotionless thousand yard stare that it was like trying to give a job interview to a robot. So when nobody would hire me a friend of mine named David was paying me a little bit of money working and training me as an contractor plus I also got a second job because a man name Charles who was running a business in the back of his place said that he needed a second locksmith. My grandmother kept getting sick so I began to spend more time taking care of her than I was showing up where I needed to be. David replaced me with another coworker and they ended up opening their own business and Charles ended up relocating out of state.

Here I am 22 years old I’m broke and I have to be a caregiver to my grandmother. Boy I could really use a friend, but as months went by nobody called me, texted me, came by the house. It got to where I was so depressed I checked myself into a mental health facility for a week to try to cope with my situation. Then when I got home I decided I love my grandmother dearly but I need to leave this town. I ended up leaving early in the morning to catch a bus and my grandmother talked to me on the phone thinking that I was a son of a bitch and she doesn't have anyone that's going to take care of her. So I had family who lived in a different state that took me in and I got a job working as a telemarketer. My uncle back home ends his own life and none of my family is helping my grandmother with emotional support so I have to move back for over half a year. I go back out of state again and another uncle gets me a job working as a maintenance man. However he cannot stop his addiction to pain pills so whenever he got done blowing his paycheck he was always wanting me to give him most of mine. Then one day I put my foot down and said I’m not doing this for you anymore and he told lies to my boss and got me fired.

I got a job working as a caregiver under the table for a lady who lived across the street from me because all of her family was thousands of miles away. So 400 dollars a month was a lot better to me than nothing. And at this point I was taking turns being a caregiver for my neighbor, grandmother and the aunt I was living with. My aunt has MS and I had two cousins that were in their mid to late 30's that never lifted a finger to do dishes or clean house I was stuck doing all the house work for free and whenever I am not in Logan and I'm back home I'm still expected to do it.

I have to regularly travel back and forth to my grandmothers house because whenever I call her she says she doesn’t eat for days sometimes because even though my mom lives in the house directly behind her she cannot come over and cook 2-3 times a day. It’s not like my mother works because now that she is single she keeps my little brother in the house just like she did to me most of my life while she plays games and spends his SSI money. I can barely afford to put shoes on my feet and my grandmothers pet cat sat on top of a new laptop and soaked it in piss and she said that it was my fault because I didn't lock the door when I went to sleep. So I went back home and didn't wanna talk to her for a few weeks out of anger.

My real father comes back into my life in 2017 and a year later he actually gets me a job working with him for the mayor of a small town near Columbus renovating rental properties. I find out mom cheated on him with the man that worked at Goodyear. The mayor pays me 200 dollars for a week of work and I thought if this is the rate I’m starting out I’m just gonna move up here. So I worked with him for over a month but I was still calling my grandmother twice a week just to see how she is doing. I try to call one day I never got an answer so then I tried again the next day and a nurse answers the phone and tells me she almost died.

I told my father I need to go back and be with her so when I got back my mother said she was gonna pay me 50 bucks to help my grandmother get situated inside of a nursing home facility. I said ok when I get done with this dad can just pick me up and take me back when all of this is finished. Not only was I lied to but my grandmother fell and fractured one of her bones and had to lay starving in her own piss and shit for 3 days before any of my family bothered to come over and check on her. She only spent one day in the nursing home before she started crying and screaming she wanted to go home. I wound up having to spend 2 months living at her house again changing her depends cooking all her meals the whole nine yards. Funny thing was when me my aunt and my mom went to pick her back up from the nursing home they had a good laugh after making the comment that they should have just let the crabby old bitch walk back home with her depends around her ankles holding onto a walker.

Here I am 30 years old all of my teeth are rotten and I don’t have any money for a dentist. I have never been able to stay on one job long enough to even know the first thing about paying income taxes because my aunt and my grandmother take turns crying over the phone that nobody is taking care of them. I would rather sleep under a bridge than go on welfare. I have never owned a car or got a stimulus check. I have never had my own place and I have never owned a smartphone. And all my family can do is sit around and laugh at me when I'm not around and call me a loser, meanwhile their kids are going to college and are living out on their own, but if it was any of them dealing with this they would have put my grandmother away a long time ago. It’s like as long as she is my problem they don’t have to deal with her but the minute they hear she’s too sick to eat or doesn’t feel well they would be the same people to jump on the phone yelling, “WHY HAVENT YOU MADE HER NOTHING TO EAT!” I am not a danger to myself or anyone around me.

My father has not been back to see me or even call me because every single time he shows up my family asks him if he has any money, I have no friends and I have anxiety attacks that keep me from sleeping at night because I know I’m going to die homeless under a bridge because I’m at that age that nobody is going to want to hire me anymore. I do little jobs here and there so I can buy some vodka and cranberry juice so it’s easier to go to sleep at night. For the past two weeks yet again here I am at my grandmothers house. She goes through 3 pairs of pants a day because of bladder problems I have to change her depends 7-8 times a day. I have to comb her hair take her phone calls do her cooking. Sometimes I don’t sleep for 2 days straight just so I can sleep on the third day to be up early enough to help her to the bathroom.

Again I’m 30 years old but it’s like I spent 17 years of my life in jail for a crime that I didn’t commit. And I told my grandmothers caseworker back when I was 23 years old that people I've tried to talk to over the years have told me that I can get paid for the work that I'm doing with her and all she said to me was that I would interfere with the income she was getting from the government so she can't do it. My mom doesn't own a car and she lied about being disabled so she could live off of her children’s SSI and my grandmother doesn't know how to read or write and has never owned a car but got pregnant 8  times so she could live off their SSI and my grandfather could use it to get drunk with. My family does like the remind me though that because I don't believe in God that I'm going to go to hell. Scientists have long since proven that dinosaurs existed millions of years before humans. I finally understood that the enlightenment that the Buddha was talking about was actually another word for nihilism. I suppose I understand letting go of material possessions and not causing suffering to other living creatures. Nihilism for me is like Buddhism except I am still a meat eater. I think people who are vegan do not understand that if these animals were not in such a demand that they are then they would go away just like the rest of the other species we've had a hand in wiping out as we let our population grow larger and larger.

I love my 84yo grandmother very much and she tells me she loves me and my mother has not told me she loved me in over 22 years. And I'd like to think that I'm finally going to be free to be by myself and make my own choices for once by the time that my grandmother is dead. But I know all that is going to happen is I'm going to be one of those 40yo men that stand on the street begging people for spare change. Till one day a cousin of mine is gone drive up in a new car laughing at me telling me I should have went to college. It's February 2021, I got a birthday coming up in 4 month, I have never been to jail one day in my life, I have no criminal record of any kind. I've just always been this dog that gets is chain tugged on and I bark.

The only thing that the world has taught me is people only have time for you as long as it is convenient for them and even when they appear genuine I always wonder if everything coming out of their mouth is a fucking lie. I have fantasies about picking up the pieces that Hitler left behind after he shot himself in the head only I do not believe in a master race. I feel betrayed by my own empathy for other human beings, I don't care what color they are, they are destructive selfish semi evolved primates that are too brainwashed by their own bullshit to accept the fact that money is their God. And just because there are children across America dying in the hospital from cancer that doesn't mean that when they die they got a heaven to go to. 

After all those days trapped in my room when I was a child barely even weighing 90 pounds I never thought for one minute I was gonna grow up to be a loser. Lol if any of my family read this they would just say that if I was so damn miserable why didn't I just get out? Oh cool so that means you're gonna move her into your house? No??? Does that mean you're gonna help her with all of her daily activities so she doesn't cry to me on the phone every couple of days that she's not getting any help and all her home heath aides do is do dishes and sit on their ass? No??? Ok then what kind of Christmas card did you pick out for me this year? Whoever said we were getting you one, you need to get a job you damn loser. And it's actually worse now because they stopped all of her home heath aides last year because my mother gave her bed bugs and she didn't want to say anything about it.

I feel like a human trafficking victim with stockholm syndrome but when I look up what a caregiver is it actually says work without pay right in the description so it's not like I can take anyone for lost wages. I've never even got a present for my birthday party or for Christmas since I was 7 years old and the only time I do is when my grandmother gives me some money so I can put some new shoes on my feet or get a new coat to wear.

But I'm a man I'm not supposed to talk about my feelings I need to suck it up.