#Sometimes the kid just stares at the text box(s) whenever someone has something to say | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emmyrosee · 3 years

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give us a random headcanon go 👀

UHM OK

This got long and kind of angsty I’m SORRY-

Axel and Mark are brothers. Axel’s older than mark by a fairly big margin so he offers that good ol’ elder brother wisdom™️ and Mark isn’t always here for it.

Axel’s had to drag mark out of parties more times than he can count, some because he was worried about his lil bro, some because he wasn’t answering moms texts and axel wasn’t about to let him make their momma feel bad.

Like this one time, their mom was punishing Mark for being completely shitfaced and missing something for their grampa, and Mark straight up snuck out of his room, no note, no regards, nothing, and with his mom fearing the absolute worst, that she’d lost her son, her baby, Axel quickly tracked down his brother and hauled his drunk ass right back home, speeding so fast mark was puking in the truck, yelling at him so bad mark pouted, and by the time they got home his brother was just a needy, scolded mess, and their mom was all over him, taking care of him and letting him puke and whine about his tummyache, and if she needed Axel to get anything, he did, not questions asked.

When mark was going through his first serious breakup, Axel really stepped forwards to work him back to normal, doing things with him other than just drinking the problems away like his friends wanted to. They went to cheap bowling alleys and drank cheap beer, they would drive around at 2 am, blasting music as they passed a joint, and it was probably the first real time- like honest, true, raw- that Mark learned it was okay to be a man and cry. He was hitting Axel, screaming and telling him she was every terrible name under the sun and that Axel had no idea what the fuck Mark went through to try to keep her happy.

When Axel pulled over, he shoved Mark back a little, just enough to straighten him back, telling him to stop being a pussy and just embrace it. She was gone. She was no good for him, and she was gone. She broke his heart, it was okay to be sad, and Mark wore his vocal chords raw with his sobs and shrieks of despair. “Why doesn’t she fucking want me, Axe? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing, dude,” he promises over his brothers tears. “You’re at a stupid age where love doesnt mean shit to nobody. Fuck, I am too. But right now, you’re sad because you’re alone, and one day you’re going to find someone, and they’re going to make you fear a lot of things more important than just ‘being alone.’ Trust me dude. You’re too fucking young to get that.”

They don’t talk about that night often. Axel’s jacket collar had been permanently ruined from Mark’s tears and hot breath against the leather, but from then on, instead of just getting drunk off his rocker when he was sad, he’d just find Axel and cry it out.

Their dad passed away when Mark was young, and their mom never really recovered from it. Because of this, Axel really took the role of being momma’s fix-it man, getting an under-the-table job when he was young and making sure Mark had snacks and lunches while their mom took care of the house. When momma Cluney eventually remarried, she never ceased to thank Axel for all he did, and it always put Mark in a weird feeling. Not that he wasn’t grateful beyond words, he just always felt bad that Axel had to go through that at such a young age.

“You were in Kindergarten,” Axel says cooly, passing his brother a beer. “What were you going to do, sell dunk-a-roos for cold, hard cash?”

“I could’ve done more,” he mumbles, taking a long sip of his drink. “Like... I could’ve been more grateful for the toys and the lunch money.”

Axel chuckles and reaches over to ruffle Mark’s hair, “hey; you were fed. You didn’t give mom too much shit. And on your birthday, you got the Power-Ranger toys you wanted. You were grateful. You just didn’t get why you had to wait until your birthday.”

Mark snorts and shoves Axel’s hand away, sighing softly, “I wish I knew him, dude..”

“You look just like him.”

“What was he like?”

Axel hums and leans back in his seat, fingers swirling the lip of his beer bottle, “I remember when I was nine, I told him I was going to run away. Go live in the treehouse of our old house.” He paused to smirk, “bastard made me a lunch box with two peanut butter sandwiches, a bag of barbecue chips and a juice box and said ‘good for you! You’re a man now, do what you gotta do!’ I never made it off of the porch.”

Mark snickers and they get real quiet. “I miss him,” he admits. “I don’t remember him... but I miss him.”

Axel hums again, “he was moms great love. Never laid a hand on us, nor her. He was a good man.”

Mark raises his bottle to his brother, “you’re a good man too, dude.”

“Believe me, mark,” Axel chuckles sadly. “I’m only a quarter of the man he was.”

On a lighter note, Axel taught Mark to drive. He filled his truck with gas, drove them both out to the city limits, butt-fuck no where, with a bag of fast food and his gps.

“Okay,” Axel hums. “Get out.”

“Excuse me?”

Axel pulled the keys out of the ignition and tossed them to his brother, “you’re driving us back home. Oh, and to CVS, mom needs sugar and milk.”

And with those buggy green eyes, Mark just completely stares at Axel, freaked out and worried (mostly because Axel’s truck is his baby, and Axel was levelheaded enough at all times to hide a body if need be), so with a reassuring smile, axel slips out of the driver side, gesturing mark to slide over the bench-seat, and he slowly walked Mark through the process of starting the car and driving back home.

He hit a curb. And ran a stop-light. Nearly hit a squirrel, but never once did axel raise his voice to him. He would simply tell him it was alright and that “it doesn’t have to be perfect; I just want you to get us home.”

When they finally pull in a few hours later, Mark was so terrified Axel would tell their mom everything, but axel just shook his head. “If I wanted you to be perfect, I wouldn’t have just thrown you into traffic; I wanted to make sure you could drive if I wasn’t around and mom needed you. You got home. We’re alive. Tomorrow, if you’re feeling easy, we’ll go to a parking lot or something. But you did fine.” He smiles and leaves the truck, “but don’t puke in the truck; do it in the front yard, please.”

Which. Mark obeys.

Whenever Mark’s birthday rolls around, Axel drives them up to an old lake house their great-grandparents built, only bringing some clothes, booze and a gas can to get in and out of town, and they fish, make s’mores, and just be kids again. Again, Mark is much younger than Axel, so all the memories Axel has here, Mark doesn’t, so he wants him to enjoy the young years of his life that Axel really couldn’t.

Sometimes, if they’re bold, they’ll bring whoever they’re dating or smashing, but they’ve found it’s better to just have a guys weekend away, only them two in the middle of the woods, with only the fish in the lake to keep them company.

“So you had a treehouse and a fuckin’ cabin before I came along?” Mark asks by the fire, marshmallow clinging to his face childishly. Axel snorts, “dude I haven’t had a birthday party since I was seven, then you showed up.”

“Oh I’m sooo sorry,” Mark sings, rolling his eyes and plopping the last of his s’more in his mouth. Axel sighs dramatically, “don’t be. You made mom happy,” he pats his brother on the shoulder. “And she said I wasn’t allowed to try and return you anymore, so.”

Mark laughs before his brows furrowed, “anymore?”

Axel smirks. “Why do you think you’re so claustrophobic now, Markie?”

“The fuck did you do to me?”

“Shoved you in a box and left you outside.”

“You WHAT.”

“Three times.”

They bicker. They fight. But they’d fucking die for each other. As they got older, they really became best friends and Mark is open to that fact.

In fact, for Axel’s birthday, Mark got his hands on a pikachu doll from the 90’s that Axel was dying to have a kid but couldn’t get because he had to help his mom take care of mark, but every now and again he brought it up to joke.

Mark could tell that, even as an adult, he still wanted that pikachu toy because he wouldn’t shut up about it, so he finally saved up and got it ($150 mint-condition his asshole), and when Axel opened it on his birthday, there was not a dry eye from anyone except Mark.

Big, green eyes flip from the toy to Mark, jaw dropped in surprise and just completely at a loss for words. Mark grins, “now you can shut up about it; you own it. Live your Ash Katchum dreams, freak.”

Axel laughs around his cries, a tattooed hand coming up to stop himself. He wastes no time in stalking his way over to his brother, pulling him in for a tight hug while the younger just hugs him back, still smiling before shoving him off when people tried to get pictures.

“Cant have people who get our Christmas card think I like you or anything,” he snorts, making Axel laugh again before going back to his seat to finish his gifts, but everyone (including himself) knew that Mark won that year.

The first time Axel brings someone home, they’re a guy. Their mom was chillin, she had no problems with it (though she didn’t really expect Morgan to necessarily be a man), Mark was pretty confused. Like, sure Axel always had friends over, but they were never cuddly and touchy before, and it made Mark really curious.

He probably brings it up on one of their fishing trips years later, and axel barely has any clue what he’s talking about at first.

“You seriously don’t remember Morgan?” Mark asks in disbelief. “Like, how do I, but you don’t?”

“I’ve been with a lot of people,” Axel shrugs. Then, he tenses up and a slow grin spreads across his face, “oh. Morgan.”

“Yes! Morgan, the first person you ever brought home!”

“They’re not Morgan anymore,” Axel recalls. “Well, to me anyways. After we broke up, they became she, and her name is Bella. We’re still close, she’s just not Morgan anymore.”

“So... are you... like...?”

Axel smirks, “I’m nothing, dude. No skin off my ass for labels. If you learn anything from me, Markie boy,” he turns to his brother, “do what makes you happy. Love who the hell you want. Mom’s going to love you. I’m gonna love you. And fuck anyone who tells you you can’t.”

“I think I’m straight.”

Axel chuckles. “You’ve just never pursued anyone who hasn’t gone after you; just so happens only women have gone after you.”

Mark frowns and sinks lower in his seat, “do you think... not-straight-guys are afraid of me?”

“I think they’re afraid of your frat-boy-fuck-buddies who tease someone for having any sort of human emotions,” Axel says nonchalantly. “I’ve taught you enough about treating people with respect, your friends don’t have the same drive you do.”

Which brings me to my next point

Axel ABSOLUTELY taught Mark about the birds and the bees.

He drove them both around town not long after Mark turned 14, and he parked at their town’s high school and just... talked about sex. What happens, how does it feel, etc..

“You need to listen to her, Mark,” he says sternly. “The minute you hear a “no,” you fucking stop. The minute you hear a ‘I don’t want to,’ you stop. I don’t care if you’re balls deep inside of her, you slip out, tuck yourself away and apologize for making her uncomfortable.”

“But what if-“

“No.”

That’s the basics; like what happens when you have sex, what how to use protection, and the importance of consent. A while later, once Mark starts going to parties, he drives them out again, only this time to talk about when she says “yes.”

“You gotta work her up,” Axel hums, cigarette low on his lips. “Her body will let you know when she’s ready. If you go in dry, you’re going to hurt her.”

“How do I like... do that?”

Axel smirks, “play with her a little. Kiss her nice and slow... let your hands paw and squeeze, let her moan a little, let her purr... I’ve been with a few girls who like being tickled and picked up, some girls like it more rough and playful too, a smack on the ass, a few bites on their neck-“

“How will I know?” Mark squeaks. “If she like... likes what I’m doing.”

Once again, Axel grins, “believe me, Markie boy- you’ll know.”

Sjfhvdgbgh I WANT MORE, MY BOYS🥺🥺

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armywriter2605 · 4 years

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The Words You Uttered - Chapter 1

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↳ Pairing: Namjoon (RM) x fem!reader, Yoongi (Suga) x fem!reader

↳ Genre(s): fluff; LOTS of angst; eventually smut, idol!BTS x reader; Swearing / cursing

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Summary: Stress had been getting to Namjoon, yet when he explodes and says everything that had been in his mind, you’re left broken. When you come to the realization that maybe he was right, and do as he says, Namjoon starts to understand that everything he said was the exact opposite of what he truly wanted and that he needed to fix things between the both of you before it was too late. Maybe it already was, specially when there was someone else there to fix your broken heart.

↳ Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

It had been almost nine months since you had last seen your boyfriend face to face. You had missed him more than anything, and even though you had been calling, talking or face timing it just wasn’t the same.

Namjoon and you had been dating for almost 3 years now, which was the longest relationship you’d ever had, given the fact it was your first relationship in general. In the beginning everything had been perfect. The dates, the calls, the attention and affection both of you shared and showed each other. Everything had been okay until half a year ago. The ‘I love you’ that was once a spoken promise between you two, felt foreign more with each time you said it. It wasn’t because you loved him less, but the way he reacted to it was what forced you to sometimes, not open your mouth at all.

“Joonie, I love you!” You said as you stared at your phone, the face of your boyfriend filling the small screen.

“Mhm, alright. I need to leave now. Bye. Talk to you later, I guess.” He said as a forced smile took over his lips, before your phone turned dark, him ending the call as soon as it started.

You weren’t sure as to why he wouldn’t say it back. It worried you, but you had always trusted Namjoon. There could be many factors affecting him such as the stress from the tour and concerts or perhaps he was homesick and saying it only made it worse. There could be many things going on and maybe he simply didn’t want to stress you out as well. The relationship you two had been built on trust and you weren’t going to ruin that. Such thoughts filled your head every single day, yet you never managed to bring it up with Namjoon. You had talked with Hoseok, Yoongi and Jin about it and mentioned it to the younger members too, but you always made them promise not to tell him anything. And they didn’t. They noticed the change in their leader’s behavior yet tried to ignore it. They too believed it could just be small things that they shouldn’t put their own noses into. Whenever Namjoon was struggling he always opened up to them. They just had to wait until he was ready to finally open up the Pandora box that was consuming him.

Despite that, the younger boys always tried to bring the topic up. Small mentions or comments left their mouths from time to time, but Namjoon never missed them. He heard them loud and clear every single time even though he pretended not to. He knew he was acting cold to you, but he couldn’t help it. In his mind, his actions were justified. Was it the long texts you were sending him every day? Or the calls? Maybe it was the need he knew you felt. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on exactly what it was or the actions that were causing him to act this way, but in the back of his head he had the perfect two words for it. Needy and clingy. He knew those words were harsh and mean, but it wasn’t his fault. How could it be? You were the one acting that way yourself. The way you told him you couldn’t wait for him to get home. The way you called him because you wanted to talk. Every little thing that you did or said was ticking him off even more. That was why he longed to end the calls, or barely texted you back. Because he knew it was a matter of time until he exploded and your whole heart was shattered.

Namjoon couldn’t do that to you. Breaking your heart, would break his too. Despite the feelings he was feeling now, he knew that he loved you. He just wished you could be less…clingy, needy…annoying.

“Hyung, is everything okay?” Jimin asked as soon one of their concerts was done. It was almost impossible to miss how tense Namjoon had been or how agitated he seemed to be around everyone. Was everything with you really that bad and affecting him that much?

“Everything is okay, Jimin.” He simply replied as he made his way to the changing room, not giving any of the members or staff a second glance.

The last months of their tour had been like that. An enormous tension between the boys and their leader, who seemed to put on a mask whenever he entered the stage. They wanted this awful mood of their leader to just vanish, but they also knew it wouldn’t. Not until everything was fixed, and that meant you and Namjoon would have to talk urgently. Fix everything that was wrong in between you and be back to your normal lovey dovey relationship. Yet how could you fix something when you didn’t know the cause for its’ destruction?

Today was finally the day your boyfriend was coming back. You had been waiting for so long and you were more than thrilled to welcome him back. You knew he came back exhausted, so you’d of course only visit him tomorrow, which was totally okay with you. He needed and deserved his rest. On the other side of the town, all of the BTS members were making their way into their dorm, happy to be home.

“Are you going to meet up with Y/N, Namjoon-ah?” Jin asked as they all sat down on their couch. “You two should talk. It has come to our attention that things seem to be a little tense between you tw–”

“Please, don’t start Hyung. All of you need to mind your business and stay out of my relationship with Y/N.” Namjoon replied as he got up from the couch. He wasn’t going to sit there and take a scolding from any of the boys at the moment. He was exhausted and simply wanted to rest.

“Jin is still your hyung, Namjoon.” Yoongi raised his voice at the younger, who seemed to be crossing boundaries. Despite being their leader and extremely smart, Yoongi rarely let any of the younger boys disrespect their elders. After all, that was how he had been raised.

“Of course. I’m sorry. I just need to rest. I’ll speak to her and all of you tomorrow.” Namjoon gave his brothers a smile before excusing himself out of the common area and into his bedroom.

THE NEXT DAY

Namjoon had stayed in his bedroom the entire day, not bothering to leave to grab something to eat. You were filling his head and every thought. And that was annoying him extremely much. On the other side of town, you were picking up the boys’ favorite coffees and drinks before you headed to their dorm. You were excited to finally see Namjoon, but of course you wanted to meet the other boys as well. All of them were your friends after all. As you were almost at the dorm, you texted Jin informing that you were almost arriving. You had been given the key to their apartment as a present in your 2-year anniversary, so you were maybe thinking of surprising your boyfriend and fixing everything. Jimin had informed you of what had happened yesterday and honestly you didn’t think Namjoon would act that way towards his brothers. Despite that, you were sure he’d be calmer today and ready to talk like adults.

As Jin texted you back, he heard Namjoon’s door open, the make appearing after a whole day of hiding away. The other boys also looked to Namjoon, who honestly looked even worse than yesterday.

“Morning, hyung.” Taehyung said as ate his cereals.

“Hi…” Namjoon replied as he sat down, yawning. He was still tired, but at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to sleep any longer. He got himself a toast and poured some orange juice.

“So, are you going to talk with Y/N today?” Yoongi asked, going straight to the point. The others held a breath, admiring how straightforward the other was.

“Talk about what? I don’t get it. I have nothing to talk to her about.” Namjoon replied in the same tone, as he held his glad tighter in his hand. Did his hyung really have to start this early in the morning? Shouldn’t he be asleep anyways?

“You know you two have to talk. Honestly, you’ve been acting as a jerk towards your girlfriend who has been waiting for you to come back for almost nine months.” Yoongi said as he sipped his coffee, eyeing the younger who sat across from him. If he had to be the one to put some sense into his younger brother, then he would.

As you tried to open the door the quietest possibly, not wanting to wake anyone up if they were still sleeping, you heard voices coming from the kitchen. One of them you identified as your boyfriend’s which made you smile almost instantly.

“A jerk? How am I the jerk? She’s the one that has been acting so damn clingy and needy! She’s like a damn kid. I honestly didn’t think she’d act like this.”

“Namjoon, watch your words. That’s still your girlfriend who you’ve been dating for almost three years.” Yoongi said as he was now clearly annoyed about how the younger talked about you. All of the seven boys knew how Yoongi felt about you. It had been him who introduced you to the boys 5 years ago, and Namjoon also knew how much his hyung cared about you. In the back of his mind, Namjoon knew there was more to his hyung’s feelings just like all the other 6 boys knew. You, on the other hand, had always been pretty oblivious to that matter.

Being a good hyung and best friend, when Yoongi saw how close you and Namjoon got, Yoongi decided to step down and let his best friend and brother enjoy themselves. Even though it hurt him in the beginning, he was okay after a while. He knew you were in better hands, but now he was wondering his decisions.

“It’s true though. Am I not allowed to express how I feel? As if the pressure from the tour wasn’t enough, she puts even more pressure on me. Always wanting to talk and text. She’s become a burden in my life. Is it really my fault for acting this way? If I knew she would be like this, maybe I would’ve never asked her out in the first place three years ago.” Namjoon yelled as he slammed his hand down on the counter.

“It’s just so damn much! I can’t deal with all of this, okay? I need someone mature enough to be able to be alone for a bit. She knew what she was getting into when she accepted to go out with me. All I want is room to breathe! Why the hell am I the one wrong? A relationship doesn’t start crumbling down just because of one of the people. That person needs a damn reas-”

“Noona…” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with widen eyes, seeing you on the doorway holding all of the cups of coffee and a picked-up flower. Your hands were shaking as you stared at the back of your boyfriend, not wanting to believe the words that had just been shouted out.

At the sound of the maknae, Namjoon turned around to meet your face, tears running down your cheeks. If the sight wasn’t enough to break his heart, only then did he come to the realization of what he had truly said. The Pandora box had now been opened.

“I… haha. I see you all have already had dinner. Stupid of me. I should go, right? I’m sorry for disturbing your morning, Namjoon.” You said with a smile on your face as the tears kept running down your cheeks. You carefully put the tray with the coffees on the coffee table and turned around to leave as fast you walked in.

“For such a high IQ, you were pretty stupid now. I honestly hope your wish of wanting space turns real. You promised me that you’d treat her with care, but you just broke that promise of yours.” Yoongi’s tone was venomous as he got up and ran after you, giving his dongsaeng a last glance of disgust.

Namjoon sat in place as your words echoed in his brain. You had called him Namjoon and not Joonie. You laughed as you cried, you apologized even though you had done nothing wrong.

“I truly hope this is what you actually wanted, Namjoon. Y/N has given up a lot to be with you, and just like you know, it hasn’t been easy for her.” Jin said as he went to pick the coffees and flower you had brought them.

“Fuck! You think I wanted this? I only said those things in the heat of the moment. I love her…I really do…” Namjoon mumbled as he slammed his glass to the floor. He got up and ran to his room to pick his coat, his car keys and face mask before rushing out of the apartment.

What had he done?

Preview Chapter 8

“She’s my girlfriend, Yoongi-hyung. Stop interfering!”

“And she is my damn best friend. Leave before I force you to you leave.”

“Yoongs...I need to hear him out.”

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idkwhatawritingblogis · 5 years

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send me an otp / s+a

who hogs the duvet the answer to this is the dogs. like you can't even get this answer out of the two of them because pets run the fuckin' world for them.

who texts/rings to check how their day is going sierra more than axel. after her usual morning text to him before he has to dip off to work, she'll text him at lunch and around the time he usually comes home if he doesn't text her first to say he got in safe. she's a big worrier.

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts definitely sierra. not that axel is bad at giving gifts or anything but she's definitely more creative in the two of them.

who gets up first in the morning usually axel. he's deffo the early riser between the two of them and it's always si trying to distract him to keep him in bed. unless she's the one working, but. usually it's him.

who suggests new things in bed it usually is sierra. axel tends to let her take the reigns on that since she's So New to a lot of sex things. keeping it at her own pace.

who cries at movies .. well it sure as fuck ain't axel. it's always sierra. she's so goddamn emotional, axel needs to just keep tissues at his sides at all times and even more so at a movie. even if it's happy. he's just here like "..it's okay." "BUT THE DOG." ".......it lived."

who gives unprompted massages definitely axel cos he's a handsy little bastard and if she even stretches out on the couch or the bed and is just laying there minding her own business, there he comes to offer one up or to give one at all. which it's not like sierra is complaining or anything. he's too good with his hands and she should sue him for it tbh.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick sierra. she's a constant worrier, especially if he's sick enough for it to effect him heavy. so she's out here tryin to arrange a soup delivery and to make sure he's got meds and is taking care of himself. axel obviously cares as well, but. she's definitely a Lot More about it to the point where he has to be like, "i'm not dying, tash, it is okay, i will be asleep."

who gets jealous easiest axel. even after their split and the whole cheatin thing, if they got back together or something, it'd still be axel. not that she's not jealous but.

who has the most embarrassing taste in music you know what? it's axel. you see how hard he goes to the hot n spicy theme. it's the same for anything else, really. especially dropping off the kids for school in the future. so it's more his dancing than the music but imagining axel going hard to some weird german metal? oh man.

who collects something unusual sierra. axel thinks her crystals as a whole are fuckin unusual, but.

who takes the longest to get ready sierra takes this, between her trying to choose and outfit and doing her makeup. but it's not like axel is someone who is ready immediately either. like you know whenever they move in together, their bathroom has to be big. with double sinks. for all of their shit.

who is the most tidy and organised most definitely axel. he's got that on lock.

who gets most excited about the holidays

sierra. she loves decorating, especially as they get older. it’s fun to spin their home in a new way.

who is the big spoon/little spoon sierra WANTS to be big spoon at least once a week but he never lets her. so. he's big spoon, she's little spoon. #oneday.

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports axel is by far. even when they're out playing some arcade games or anything, he's just straight in for the kill. but he'll eventually let up and let her win a few rounds. very big gentleman.

who starts the most arguments sierra. she takes things so terribly sometimes and then things just kinda explode from there. it's a lot of emotion as a whole and also kind of letting a lot of things fester, especially with them being primarily LDR?? she's dumb.

who suggests that they buy a pet it's never really a suggestion. it's sierra saying she wants another pet and axel eventually relenting. she's good at taking care of them and they make her happy, okay. he can't deny her this.

what couple traditions they have for their anniversary, it's usually spent in germany together. exploring hamburg, doing to the park they were official in.

what tv shows they watch together i don't think they ever really .. have a tv show that they get invested enough in to sit and watch or make plans to watch. they've probably started a show on netflix but they just kinda go at their own pace and discuss episodes as they come and go.

what other couple they hang out with ..walter + v, mack and his lady and his little kid. usually just axels friends versus sierras. that didn't go well the last time. LMAO.

how they spend time together as a couple when they get to be together? it's a lot of everything. sitting on the couch to unwind, going grocery shopping. sometimes si'll even sit in the bathroom as he takes an incredibly long shower and read a book quietly or chat with him. it's just them being in the same place and getting the chance to relish in that since they rarely do. lots of soft moments.

who made the first move i think? axel kissed her first. when the two of them were just together in germany and in the forest when c+g fucked off elsewhere. he just kinda swooped in with si against a tree.

who brings flowers home axel. flowers make his girl feel special and he's always out here tryin' to do that for her, especially on days where he knows she's been going through it, or on days he knows she has to interact with her dad.

who is the best cook obviously it's axel because she can't cook worth shit. she's done cooking classes and gotten better, and hasn't poisoned anyone which is good, but. it's him. though i figure as they get older, they probably rely more on some food prep services or something like that. like meal boxes that're easy to put together and keep. easy instructions. ones you don't Fuck Up.

BONUS:

how they would get engaged i feel like axel's the type to plan that dream romantic getaway to pop the question. somewhere nice, with beaches and greenery and a lot of cool animal related stuff to do, a lot of places to explore. but their engagement probably comes on the worst day. whatever romantic thing they've had planned, like a nighttime candlelit dinner has been rained out, sierra probably ate shit trying to race out of the rain and the two of them are soaked to the bone and they just stop and look at each other and break out into laughter and he pops to one knee to ask. there's a lot of crying. probably masked in the rain.

what their wedding would be like it'd be some absolute lavish shit. like, they go all out because it's a Forever thing and they'll only be doing this once. axel wants si to feel like an absolute princess, so when he catches her trying to figure out if they can have either a photographer or videographer and not both, he's like mmmmm no. it's both. he barely tells her no with whatever she comes to him with, unless she is very obviously trying to test limits. (she did jokingly suggest a massive ice sculpture of the two of them and he just very much Stared. she didn't mean it!). it's not some break the bank level shit, but what they want, they get and it's a really pretty affair. bright, sparkly, tons of flowers.

how many kids they’ll have there's at least two. axel wants more than two, but sierra is comfortable with two once they have them, she doesn't want to end up too crazily overwhelmed, especially as a likely stay at home mum, since axel probably insisted. like damn. let her live without diapers for a bit, kindly.

#( s: s x a )

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arcticmaggie · 6 years

Text

Movie Night

Y/N (not so) secretly hates scary movies and Harry (not so) secretly loves Y/N.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: okay so this is a cute angsty but also fluffy one shot!! idk i was debating whether or not to post this one but whatever might as well make other ppl clench their heart over soft Harry. ALSO he’s like an american in this oof like i didn’t know how school works over in the uk so like aha america wooh. okay enjoy! pls feedback is amazing! IF THERE’S ERRORS I’M SORRY

“It’s my turn to pick! You made me suffer through Dear John last week.”

“How dare you disrespect Amanda Seyfried like that.”

It's a Friday night and Y/N finds herself back at Harry’s flat with a half empty pizza box on her lap and a grumpy expression on her face. Harry loves to tease her about her fondness over cheesy dramatic romances that carry elements that she will never come across in her own love life. She hates it. Especially because whenever they watch these movies, he never actually pays attention to it, choosing to play with her hair or hands instead. Which she actually wouldn't mind if it weren't for the fact that it was so distracting that she misses about half of the movie as well.

So she's grumpy and upset that Harry is sat beside her chewing on a pizza slice while searching through Netflix with disregard to how mean he was being (not really, she's just dramatic) as he keeps his free hand at her thigh, rubbing it softly and absentmindedly.

“It's not like my turn counted. You didn't even watch the movie,” she quips in, a frown still sketched on her face as she sees him completely skip over the romantic comedy genre.

He replies with a full mouth, “then consider us even. Since you’ll be too scared to pay attention to this either.”

Her frown of upset turns into a frown of confusion as she wonders what he means. But she sees him click down once more and begins to scroll through the horror genre, ominous thumbnails flashing up, making her heart begin to thump a bit heavier than usual.

She hates scary movies. She hates being scared in general. Harry knows it as well because she's found herself, more often than not, calling him in the middle of the night to comfort her because there was a noise in the kitchen and she could have sworn she saw a shadow pass by her closed bedroom door.

She whips her head towards him and sees the slyest smirk settled on his lips and she wants to smack it right off. She won't let him win this round. She needs to show her dominance in this friendship (who is she kidding, she'll do and listen to anything he says).

“I don't know what you're talking about, I love scary movies.” A snort leaves Harry’s mouth at that. She gives a weak push against his shoulder at his response.

“So you’ll love me if I put on The Conjuring tonight?” he asks, both eyebrows raised as he readies his thumb on the play button. His smug face makes Y/N want to attack him and refuse to watch a film of terror, but she won't give in yet.

A wide and obviously exaggerated smile spreads on her lips and she nods curtly, “Yup.”

She really doesn't know why she went along and did this though because Harry presses down on the remote control and the movie begins to play and Y/N knows she's fucked for the rest of the week.

And she proves herself correct as the movie reaches the third act and she finds herself wrapped around Harry’s figure. She had thought she saw a hand reach for her at her end of the couch so she pushed the pizza box off her and onto the ground, quickly scooted on top of his lap, and tucked her legs inside the blanket wrapped around them. Her head isn't turned towards Harry but she just knows he's smirking in amusement behind her from her sudden, but not surprising, actions. So with the arm that’s wrapped around his back, she lifts her hand and flicks the back of his neck.

“Ouch! What the heck, Y/N?”

“Oh hush, you already know why I hate you right now.” Y/N quips back as her eyebrows furrow with irritation, only multiplying more when a jumpscare occurs on screen and her heart skips a massive beat. She can't endure it anymore, so she turns her head and tucks her face into his neck, Harry quickly reacting and extending his neck out a bit so she can get more space.

She grumbles against his skin, “Why are you so keen on scary movies? Do you not realize it's only going to make me bother you even more with calls in the middle of the night?”

He lets out a small exhale through his nose as he softly laughs at her grumpiness. “You never bother me,” he lets out quietly, provoking a warm blush to rise in his cheeks, thanking the heavens that the lights are turned off so that it's not noticeable.

He likes to think he isn't so obvious about his feelings towards her. Even though everyone in their friend group always comments about how exhausting it is to see how absolutely infatuated he is with her yet he doesn't do anything about it. But Y/N is pretty good at missing signals and this ditziness of hers gives him more passes than he's deserved.

Like how he's constantly using his free time from his job to text her, call her, or hang out with her. Or like how he always says yes to her when she asks for a ride to her campus for her afternoon lectures because her car’s A/C doesn't work but his does, even if it means being late coming back from lunch to work. Or like how he never approves of any of the guys she mentions she's found cute or has ever asked her out. Or how whenever she sleeps over (or vise versa), he rolls over in bed and pulls her into his arms, rubbing his nose against her cheek with a dopey grin until she wakes up with a wrinkled nose from the sensation, rasping out, “Good morning, my sweet girl.”

Or like in this present occasion, how he always chooses a horror movie to watch after he feels like she hasn't been affectionate enough with him in the past two weeks. Because he knows that she always ends up in his lap, quivering under his gentle hands combing through her hair, comforting her and protecting her from the scary monster on the telly.

He feels a tiny bit guilty using her fear as a method of affection but her shampoo always leaves such a sweet mango scent in her hair and he can't help but inhale and forget all about it. And it's not like she ever complains about being in his arms. Which makes him giddy thinking about it but he pushes his hopes down. She seems comfortable enough being just friends, he doesn't think she's ever going to want more (this thought leaves a small sting in his chest and he tightens his arms around her a bit more).

They stay like this for the rest of the movie, his hand running small circles on her back and her hand running her fingers through his curls. As the TV turns almost completely black as the end credits roll, the room gets darker and Y/N shivers a bit.

Harry wants to coo at her.

“It's just a movie, Y/N. You're safe here with me. Nothing will ever get past my hold on you.” She doesn't respond right away, breathing softly against his neck as she tries to calm herself down.

It doesn't really work though because although she does start to forget about what she saw on the TV beforehand, she starts thinking about what he just said. You're safe here with me, he told her, nothing will ever get past my hold on you. That seemed like a recurring event in their movie nights. He always chooses a movie that will insinuate contact. Like how the previous time he chose a movie, he chose My Sister’s Keeper, Y/N burying herself into his chest with sobs escaping her mouth throughout it all.

She gets an idea why he does so, but this idea brings her cheeks to a flaming color and she internally shakes her head in denial. It's been too long that she keeps this hope inside of Harry possibly feeling what she wants him to feel for her. Since her freshman year of college when she came crying to him about how she was too dumb to be enrolled and that she should just drop out and get a job instead of wasting money on something she won't accomplish. And he pulled her into his chest and let her ugly sob against him for what seemed like hours, letting her muster out all that she possibly could before he began to whisper soft declarations of the pride he holds in seeing her challenge herself, not giving in to what everyone has told her she is, raising a middle finger to those who doubted her willpower.

Ever since then, she's found a new place in her heart for him that no boy has ever proven to be a worthy contestant for, even though she's tried so hard to find someone to do so. Because while Harry’s always been a blunt and straightforward kind of guy, he's never confirmed that her hopes were true and she'd rather not go through the embarrassment of waiting for him to come around only to find him fall for another girl in the end. So she's tried moving on, but even Harry can clearly see with every guy she meets, none of them are of real interest to Y/N, because not a single one of them is Harry.

They can't compare to the way he makes her feel. The way he embraces her when she's sad. The way he makes himself the little spoon when it's him who's brooding. The way she stays up alone sometimes, contemplating what would happen if she called him and told him how she felt. And then crying with his contact popped up on her phone screen because she spent 10 minutes staring at it but lacked the courage to risk their friendship and press the call button. The way that he always tries to make her happy but she knows this is the one thing that he will never comply to.

So her idea of why Harry chooses these movies is dismissed from her brain.

But still… she is curious as to why.

So she musters up a few seconds of courage to clear her throat timidly and raise her lips away from his skin to talk clearly, whispering out, “Why do you always choose movies that end up with us touching each other?”

And, oh god, she squeezes her eyes shut tight and buries her head right back into the crook of his neck because that was not how she wanted to word her question. She can feel Harry go a bit frigid and she scolds herself on the inside.

“What… do you mean?” he asks into the open space of the living room, the tone of his voice letting Y/N know he was just as flustered with her query as she was.

She thinks about how to reword herself and not accidentally embarrass herself even further, quipping up again, “Like… with every movie you pick, you always end up having me in your arms. And it's often enough for you to know what movies will make me do this, and you pick them anyways… So why?”

Harry gulps quietly as he goes into panic. Suddenly, the fear of her not enjoying this physical contact they always hold invades his mind and he tries very hard to seem cool and collected as he asks back, “Do you want me to stop?”

She's quick to react, eyes widening and head retracting back to hold eye contact with him, one hand reaching over to rest at his jaw. “I don't mind at all! I--I like it. It's, um, it's nice and comforting. I just kind of want to know what goes through your head when you do so.”

She can see how stunned he is now, truly, and she almost wobbles her bottom lips in awe at how absolutely adorable he looks with this facial expression. But she can also tell that he's feeling a bit embarrassed, and although it does make her heart skip a beat from the insinuation of why he’s possibly feeling embarrassed, she really doesn't want him to be uncomfortable with her questioning. So she tucks her head back into him, not as close as last time, but enough to lay her head on his shoulder, and moves her hand away from his face, leaving it against his clothed chest, giving him time to think.

He stays silent after this, just for a little while. He's blushing up a storm and his heart is now pounding very heavily and he's sure that she can feel it (she can, and it makes hers start pounding as well). He doesn't know how to respond without revealing his true feelings. Because really, there's no other explanation other then oh yanno, Y/N, it's because I’ve been madly and deeply in love with you since senior year of high school when you ditched your movie date with Evan Davis, the star player of the football team, to attend our movie session because, as you said, no boy was going to keep you from me and my mom’s hot pockets.

So it takes him a while to come to the conclusion that fuck, he really doesn't have any other option but to say what he's been feeling for 3 years now. A long overdue confession, which he can blame on the both of them. Him because he's so scared of rejection and a broken friendship, but also her because seriously, how has she not seen the signs?

He hasn't even been laid since the day he realized he's in love with her! Y/N knows it, and she knows how many girls throw themselves at him whenever they decide to stroll through her campus on nice sunny days, so she must also know there's a reason on his behalf of why the only girl he's ever gotten close to is her.

God, this is going to end in heartbreak, he tells himself because here he is, about to confess his feelings to the girl of his dreams who has been constantly showing interest to every other boy but himself. It's a recipe for disaster.

But he still musters up the courage, he mentally pushes himself off the cliff and blurts out all in one breath, “I’mkindasortareallyinlovewithyouandhavingyouinmyarmscompensatesforwhatIcan’teverhavesothat’swhyIalwaystrytomakeyoufallintomyholdI’msorry.”

And Y/N catches it. She catches it all because his mouth is almost touching her ear and her Psych professor also talks in a super human speed so she's adapted to quick explanations. But she doesn't say anything. She's too in shock to react in any way possible but to exhale through her nose against his bare skin like as if she was holding her breath this entire time.

He's in love with her. He actually reciprocates her feelings. Oh my god, she repeats over and over in her head. Tightening the grip she has on his shirt, she tries to formulate a response. But Harry is quicker.

With the softest and quietest voice he has ever mustered, he lets out, “I’m sorry.”

Y/N tries to stop him but there's no words coming out of her mouth. After a few more seconds of silence, Harry continues.

“I’m--I’m so sorry. I--” he's struggling so hard to not get choked up on his words. She's in his arms, frozen from the confession, and he can't stop the ache in his heart already forming a permanent residence. He's at least grateful that she's still facing away from him so he's not feeling much humiliation as tears fill up in his eyes.

“I shouldn't have fallen in love. You’re just so beautiful and---and brave and tough to break and kind and gentle and so precious. I mean how… how could I have not have fallen for you, yanno? And I’m just---” his voice cracks at the word just and he stops himself to recollect his thoughts and swallow down the sob that's threatening to spill.

He inhales and exhales shakily as he squeezes his eyes shut to stop his crying because at this point, a few tears have actually escaped. “I’m sorry I ruined this for us. I was selfish and now you won't even say anything and it hurts but I understand. I’m sorry,” he finishes off with the sorry whispered into the dark room.

He's, yet again, met with silence. It only hurts him more. He figures he should take Y/N home, hoping she'll at least silently comply and let him drive her back, so she can process this new information and he can curl up in his bed sheets and release all this hurt that's physically piling up and aching in his chest.

So he slightly moves his body in his seat to signify that he wants to get up, and he expects Y/N to slip off of his lap to let him. But instead, he’s greeted with her face retracting from his neck and now boring her teary eyes into his as she's inches away from him, letting her weight sink him down to keep him in place.

His eyes widen in surprise, which only accentuate the glossiness of his own crying eyes.

It breaks Y/N’s heart.

She tried so hard to stop him in his heart warming and heart wrenching explanation but she physically couldn't use her vocal chords. So she sat there in silence, tearing up from the words he spoke. He thinks I don't love him back is all that runs through her brain throughout the entirety of his speech and the silence afterwards. And she hates it.

And she hates that he accepted her silence as rejection because him trying to move away from here clearly shows he doesn't believe in her loving him back and can't bare it. So she quickly responded to his shuffling with pulling away from his shoulder, visually showing him all her emotions, her heart breaking as she see his.

The hand that was fisting his shirt is released as she brings it up to cup his cheek, Harry automatically leaning into it. The way his eyes are glossed over and his eyebrows are pulled down in confusion and discontent, yet still he gives in to her comforting touch, makes her begin to tear up once more. And this time, a meek whimper comes out of her lips.

This relief in finally making a noise makes her begin to actually cry.

It scares Harry a bit with the burst in sobs, especially since she squeezes her eyes shut and drops her head forward to lean her forehead against his. The close proximity to her face makes him tense up, but because of how awful it was to see her crying up close over him. He feels like he did a disservice to her, not letting her live out a perfect friendship without him going and ruining it. And that's what makes him close his eyes and cry as well, leaving them both as crying messes clinging onto each other in the moonlit living room.

Y/N tries so hard to recollect herself because she realizes after a minute of crying with Harry, she still hasn't said a single word. She imagines that's why he's crying as well; he thinks she's crying over hurting his feelings.

So she tries to sniff in all of her snot (she doesn't doubt she looks completely disgusting right now), and lets her mouth fall agape. She doesn't know how to relay all her emotions and feelings out right away, so she starts off with gasping out, “I’m sorry.”

But once these two words leave her mouth, she can't seem to stop uttering them. Traces of I’m sorry’s are left as she leans her head back, letting the free hand, that isn't already cupping his check, run through the front of his hair soothingly.

She's able to calm her cries into soft hiccups and sees Harry do the same as well, except he doesn't seem too keen on opening his eyes and facing reality just yet.

Y/N hates it so much.

So she whispers out, “Look at me, Harry.”

He slowly flutters his eyes open, first looking down into their laps before slowly trailing his eyes up to bore into hers, sadness leaking out of his facial expression.

She stays silent as she examines his soft face, already feeling her chin wobble in exasperation to burst into tears again. But she holds herself back because for the first time in a while, it's Y/N whose taking care of Harry. Sweet sweet Harry who she's been so in love with for so many years. And who apparently has been in love with her as well, after all this time.

She runs her hand through his hair once more before breaking into a soft smile at his angelic state of heartbreak. Only Harry would be able to look so beautiful after crying his heart out.

“I’m really sorry, Harry,” she begins, holding up her front and shakes her head when he opens his mouth to begin talking as well.

“No, sh, let me speak,” she continues, “I am so so sorry for not noticing. For being too stupid to not clearly pick up the signs about your feelings for me. Because, Jesus, Harry, I always had an inkling that it was the truth but I was too stubborn to fully believe in it. To believe that you would--you would love me--like that.”

Y/N can feel herself lose her composure with every word she utters, examining her own naive and ignorant past self who refused to see the signs and possibly stalled a wonderful relationship.

A tear slips out from her right eye and Harry is quick to reach up and wipe it away. Y/N melts and quickly places her hand over his to keep his touch there before he could pull away. This time it's Y/N leaning into his touch and she feels her heart clench. She doesn't know how to continue without fully breaking down again so she turns her head to press her lips against his palm, giving herself time to think.

But the feeling of his skin against her lips is too much, too real of a moment, too much of a reality check that this night could have been avoided if she just admitted her feelings for him right from the start. If she wouldn't have wimped out and just made it clear that it was him that she wanted, him and no one else. She could have been in his arms kissing more than just his palm for over 3 years now, if she just upped and blurted it out.

So she doesn't wait any longer. She gives his palm one last peck before moving her head back into its original position and clearly iterates, “I’m so in love with you Harry. Since freshman year of college, I’ve wanted to be your girlfriend. I've wanted to know how your lips would feel like against mine for so long, and I’m sorry for not getting the courage to find out for myself. I’m sorry I waited this long to do this.”

And she leans in and kisses him.

Fireworks don't go off outside, an indie pop song doesn't begin to play in the background, no applause or cheers are heard from an audience. But Harry lets out a small noise of surprise before quickly responding with both his hands wrapping around her waist, pulling her in to get as much of her close to him like as if this were a dream and if he were to let go, he'd wake up and never experience it again. And that makes all the fireworks go off in Y/N’s stomach while the main chorus of Sweet Disposition plays in her head, her inner self screaming with joy.

They run out of air to breath, their crying session making them too exhausted to explode into fiery and passionate kisses. But even as they pull away to catch their breath, they're both gasping in relief, feeling a big grin to break out onto their faces right after, reiterating the word finally to themselves.

Y/N drops her head back down to touch foreheads, closing her eyes in peace and harmony. She's never felt so exhausted yet so ecstatic at the same time like this before. She finally has him. 5 years of friendship and they've finally reached their happy ending in their friends to lovers trope. If there were an actual person reading their love story, Y/N thinks, they must be so exasperated and worn out from their idiotic naivety.

Really, it was stupid to Y/N. It took them this long to finally be happy. She shakes her head at herself a bit and feels Harry open his mouth to break the silence.

“So me crying was all it took for you to finally come around?” Harry lets out, evoking a small giggle from Y/N’s mouth as she playfully rolls her eyes. Guess he realized it just as well.

“You know I’m a sucker for romantic dramas.”

#harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #1d fic #ok idk what else to tag #senior year sucks and fries my brain #also im craving enchiladas rn #ok cool

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sassycassie-s-writing · 7 years

Text

Same Story, Different Versions (Version 1)

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Avengers - Peter Parker/Spider-Man, @moonlight-lyrics/Wonder-Pool, & @saviorsong/Nightsong

Rating: PG

Original Idea: I just like to write my Tumblr friends into stories.

Notes: (Masterlist)(About Me) “Same story, different versions, and all are true!” -Tia Dalma, Pirates of the Caribbean. Just Peter Parker asking Mattie out with her friends’ help a couple different ways.

^^^^^

Peter slid into Lyric’s room at the Avengers compound. “Lyric! I need your help!” he exclaimed, barely remaining upright as his velocity kept carrying him forward after his shoes stopped. Lyric looked up from her painting curiously, turning to see him.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“What kind of flowers does Mattie like?”

“Pardon?”

“Mattie. What kind of flowers does she like?”

“Uh… how would I know?”

“Because you’re her best friend here!” Peter cried.

“Hey Wonder-Pool!” the other girl in question called, swinging around the doorframe with one hand, hanging off of it. “I’m heading to the store. Want me to pick you up anything?” She caught sight of Peter. “Oh hey Pete.”

Peter squeaked out something that could have counted as a high-pitched, “Hi,” but Mattie didn’t notice; she was too busy looking at Lyric.

“Uh… nope. I think I’m good. Unless you run across something really weird for like, a dollar,” Lyric replied.

Mattie chuckled. “Okay. What about you, Pete? Want me to grab anything?”

He shook his head silently.

“Your guys’ loss. ‘Kay—I’ll be back soon.”

“Bye Matt!” Lyric called after Mattie’s retreating form as Peter kind of yelped, “Bye!”

Once Mattie was completely gone, Lyric snagged the Wonder-Pool plushie of herself that Tony had given her for her birthday and threw it at Peter. His incredible reflexes were apparently taking the day off because it nailed him in the back of the head. “Yowch! What was that for?” he demanded, rubbing the back of his head.

Lyric scoffed. “Oh don’t be such a baby. That didn’t hurt. You once took a hit directly to the face from Cap’s shield.” She threw something else at him—a hairbrush, the first thing her hand grabbed that didn’t involve her paint supplies—but this time he caught it. “What is with you Peter?”

“What do you mean?”

“Okay, I will admit your social skills are questionable, but you seem like you’re suddenly terrified of Mattie. And while I will also admit she could beat us both up at the same time—probably, if she was angry enough—she’s really nothing to be scared of.” As she spoke, Peter gently set the hairbrush back down on the desk where Lyric had thrown it from. “You’ve certainly never been the smoothest when talking to other people, but usually you hold a better conversation than just scared little squeaks.”

“I’m not scared of Mattie,” Peter retorted. “I’m just… really nervous.”

“What for?” Lyric asked.

“I’m planning on asking her out! What do you think for?!”

“So that’s what the flowers are for?”

“Yes!”

“Maybe you should have led with the explanation,” Lyric pointed out sarcastically. “Would have cut down the confusion.” She snickered and spun around on her swivel chair so she wasn’t twisting around to look at Peter. “Mattie likes roses. Any color but usually red. She’s a bit old-fashioned. She also likes lilies and snapdragons. But be careful. She has a weirdly extensive knowledge of flower language for a girl who spends most of her days training or fighting crime.”

Peter was still so nervous he couldn’t find it in him to laugh at Lyric’s humor. She was funny but he was distracted. He nodded vaguely at Lyric. “Okay. Thanks Lyric,” he said distractedly, mind racing and feet trying to remember how to walk.

She snorted. “Welcome Peter. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Slowly, he drifted out of her room like a ghost. Rolling her eyes and chuckling in amusement, Lyric went back to her painting.

Peter sat down on the bed in his room, staring blankly at the wall for a couple moments. At least he had an answer. But he hadn’t even remembered that flower language was a thing. Great. Add another layer of effort looking up what flowers were supposed to mean on top of actually asking her out!

Finally he got his head on straight and went over to the computer on his desk—the much higher-tech one than the one he had at home—to start Googling flower language. He didn’t want to offend her.

A really loud motorcycle pulled into the compound. Curious—Cap wasn’t supposed to be back for another three days at least—Peter peered out his window.

The figure on the bike was distinctly feminine. Small but athletic. The newcomer swung her leg off her motorbike and pulled the helmet off, releasing tumultuous green curls around her shoulders. Peter couldn’t help but smile as he turned back to his computer screen. Mattie and Lyric would be pleased that their other sister was back.

Mattie, Mel, and Lyric weren’t really sisters. None of them looked anything alike anyway and their powers weren’t in any way similar. But they treated each other like sisters and loved each other like sisters.

The door to the living area of the Avengers compound downstairs burst open and shut loudly. “Matilda! Lyric!” the familiar voice shouted.

In the room down the hall from Peter’s, Lyric leapt to her feet and bolted for downstairs. “Melody!” she cried excitedly.

“Hey!” Melody called back.

Peter chuckled as he read his flower-language search result page, tuning out the conversation of the girls downstairs who were exchanging happy pleasantries. He liked having his bedroom be right next to the staircase for access purposes, but sometimes all the noise that came through was really distracting. He shoved his earbuds in his ears and more seriously considered the screen in front of him. Melody and Lyric could catch up as loud as they wanted—maybe the older woman would even help him ask Mattie out if he asked nicely.

^^^^^

“So where’s Matt?” Mel asked Lyric as they collapsed onto the big king-size bed in Mel’s room.

“She went to the store to grab some unspecified stuff,” Lyric replied. “She left right before you came. Hopefully she’ll be back soon.”

“Hopefully! Gotta get the sisters back together!”

They both laughed.

“Hey guess what, speaking of Mattie, Peter’s gonna ask her out. It’s gonna be a surprise.”

“WHAT?!” Melody exclaimed. “Finally!”

“What do you mean, finally?” Lyric asked.

“That kid has been crushing on Mattie since they met each other. It’s about time that he did something about it! That idiot is brave enough to take on the Winter Soldier, Falcon, and Captain America at the same time and yet wouldn’t ask out the girl he likes for months.”

“How can you tell Peter likes Mattie? I’ve been here just as long as they have and wouldn’t have noticed.”

Melody snorted. “Oh please. You know what he’s like. His social skills may be super awkward, but he positively flounders whenever she enters the room. But enough about them. We can talk about that when Mattie gets back—or not, since you said it’ll be a surprise. Tell me about your training. How are you getting on?”

Lyric made a face. “I’m doing better. A lot better than I was at the start of the summer. I just feel like… no matter how hard I train, there’s no way I’m going to be as physically strong as everyone else here.”

“Well, honestly, probably not. But physical strength is where a lot of their powers lie. Yours are somewhere entirely different. And that doesn’t make you any less valuable. In fact, I think it makes you more valuable. We’ll always have someone else to punch the bad guys around if we can’t, but there’s no way we could replace what you do, got it?”

Lyric smiled. “Got it.”

“Good. Now tell me, Cap and Sam aren’t working you too hard are they?”

^^^^^

I tilted up onto my tiptoes, trying to reach the chocolate chip cookie dough Pop-Tarts. I hated being short when things were on the top shelves.

When I couldn’t reach it, I hissed in frustration and fell back flat onto my feet. Glancing around, I made sure no one was watching. I did a power-induced jump, snagged the box, and landed on the ground as if nothing happened. I set the box in my basket gently next to my one-dollar present for Lyric—a strange magnet with a cartoon of a penguin-dog—and carried on through the aisles.

Vzzt! Vzzt! My phone buzzed in my pocket.

A text from Peter.

Spider-Nerd: I changed my mind. Can you grab me a soda? Any kind. I’m kind of having a crash right now and Mr. Stark won’t let me have any coffee because he thinks it’ll make me bounce off the walls.

Me: XD Yeah it LITERALLY would so I don’t blame him. Sure I’ll grab you something. You REALLY don’t care what kind?

Spider-Nerd: Not at all. I’m not picky. As long as it’s not sugar-free or diet I’ll probably like it.

Me: :-) Okay!

Spider-Nerd: Thanks Mattie.

Me: No prob Pete.

I trotted nonchalantly back to the aisle where the soda was and peered at the colorful labels. Part of me wanted to prank him and get the weirdest-looking, worst-tasting thing I could, but I liked Peter. He was my friend and a good kid, so I grabbed something normal and added it to my basket. I’d get an opportunity for a better prank later anyway. There were always opportunities. Plus, with Lyric in the room next door to mine, the two of us were unstoppable.

Once I was done with Peter’s soda, I grabbed a quart carton of ice cream and went to check out.

The drive back to the compound was peaceful, the silence of middle-of-nowhere, Upstate New York broken only by my radio and semi-decent singing. Though, the farther I got from the town, the worse the radio got.

I unloaded my shopping bags into my room—hiding the ice cream in my mini-fridge since it just had to be kept cold for a little bit before Lyric and I devoured it—and glanced out the window.

A familiar motorcycle was parked on the gravel, a helmet balanced carefully on the seat.

My jaw dropped.

“Mel?!” I called.

“Hey! There she is!” my “older sister’s” voice exclaimed from downstairs.

I ran down the hallway, stopping only for a moment at Peter’s room to distractedly place his soda on his desk—“Thanks Mattie!”—before thundering down the stairs.

I did a flip on the last couple steps to land lightly on the ground floor.

At the end of the corridor, Mel and Lyric were emerging from the kitchen.

“Mel!” I squealed, bolting forward at full-tilt. She laughed as I barreled into her so hard we almost fell over and hugged her. She squeezed me back, my face buried in her green hair. “When we didn’t hear from you—I thought, I mean, I feared the worst—”

“Good to see you too, worry-wart,” Melody teased. “And c’mon, you can’t get rid of me that easy. Just lost my comm unit. Fell out of my ear during a fight. Nothing to worry about.” As she spoke, Lyric wrapped her arms around the both of us and we shared a group hug—that quickly also included a sarcastic Tony who appeared from nowhere and an embarrassed, unwilling Peter. Peter had come down to see what the ruckus was about and promptly got dragged into our squishy embrace by Lyric’s free hand. We all laughed for a moment and then released. Mel and I gasped. Being in the middle we were kind of getting squashed and the air had been successfully forced out of us.

“Alright kids, have fun,” Tony remarked before strolling off. “FRIDAY, we’re going to need to…”

“So! Tell us about your trip!” I said to Mel.

“You mean mission?” Lyric corrected.

“Yeah. You know what I mean.”

“I know. But we don’t have to talk like civilians out here.”

Before we could get anything more, the Wall intercom rang.

The Wall was the ten-foot slabs of concrete keeping the compound safe from ground attacks and unwanted entries.

“I’ll get it,” Peter commented, looking relieved to flee. We waved him off. Lyric and Mel shared a knowing smirk that I didn’t understand but didn’t think much of as we went upstairs to one of the big open areas full of sofas. We each took a separate spot—Lyric the armchair, Mel the big sofa, and me the loveseat—and put our feet up on the coffee table.

“So, I get to Kiev, and—” Mel launched into her story.

She only got a couple minutes in before we were interrupted.

Peter cleared his throat. “Uh… can I… can I borrow Mattie for a second?”

The three of us smiled. “Sure!” we all replied at the same time. I stood, flipped over the back of the loveseat, and followed him out of the room. We stopped outside his bedroom door.

“What’s up?” I inquired casually.

Peter seemed nervous. Then again, he usually seemed a bit nervous.

“I, uh… I was just… I was wondering…” He sighed and put his head in his hand, leaning against the doorframe. “This is going great…” he muttered.

“You okay? Is something wrong?”

“No. Just my social skills apparently.” He shook his head. “Sorry. Let me try again.”

“Okay…?”

He straightened up and looked me in the face, his hand reaching back into his room. A web shot from the device on his wrist. “Mattie, would you like to go—out—with me on Friday?” he asked. The web retracted back into his shooter, bringing with it a blur of color.

He offered me a bouquet of red roses with baby’s breath flowers interspersed between them.

I turned bright red, taking the flowers. “I would love to!” I replied excitedly.

Peter smiled. “Great! It’s a date!”

From down the hall, I heard Mel and Lyric cheering. “Let me guess, they knew?” I asked. Peter nodded. I chuckled and gave him a hug.

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cooperjones2020 · 7 years

Text

Nobodies Nobody Knows, chp. 2

Summary: She is the lamp in Hero’s tower, the scissors in Delilah’s hand, the blood in Guinevere’s bed. She is a million and one metaphors and all of them are his undoing.

Some of the scenes from Second City but from Jughead’s perspective. More a character exercise than a story.

NNK part one

Second City parts one and two (Ao3)

(ao3-->http://archiveofourown.org/works/11434950/chapters/25623927)

When he gets the email, his first thought is that it’s spam. He is sitting against a pillar in the United terminal, one leg drawn in, dicking around on his phone to pass the time, when he gets the notification.

“Hi Jughead,

This is Betty Cooper. I don’t know if Mary’s mentioned this, but I’m writing for The Chicago Tribune now, specifically writing features on the arts scene in the city. My editor and I were discussing you, and I was wondering if you’d be interested in setting up an interview, in advance of the publication of The Final Fissure’s sequel. I’ve attached copies of a few previous interviews I’ve done with other authors, so you can see if my style is something you’d be comfortable with. I can put together a more coherent pitch if you need more details.

Thanks,

Betty Cooper

P.S.—I got your email from Mary, just in case you were worried it was floating around on the internet.”

But it can’t be spam because only Betty would attach writing samples and only Betty would feel the need to clarify that she didn’t internet stalk him. Too bad he does internet stalk her and he’s already read those pieces. Her interviews are works of art. They should be in the Paris Review. They’re moving, funny, deeply insightful. They’re exactly how he wants someone to talk about his writing. Revealing in a way that leaves the interviewee vulnerable, unmasking them in a way their own writing does not. They’re exactly what he’s afraid Betty will see if she turns her full attention on him.

His thumbs rush over the keyboard, then hover over the send button. But the plane has begun to board and if he doesn’t respond now, he’ll spend the whole flight thinking about it. He needs to sleep. Sleep is hard to come by whenever Jellybean and her record collection are in his vicinity.

He hits send and immediately puts his phone on airplane mode. It does not seem like something that would be Betty’s idea. He doesn’t think she’d voluntarily want to spend more time with him than is necessary. But she asks, and he’s powerless like a moth to a flame. Or, like a mosquito to a goddamn bug zapper.

He does not sleep on the flight.

His first-day-back-in-Riverdale ritual consists of a long walk followed by the reward of a Pop’s cheeseburger, fries, and milkshake. He visits the river, the site of the former Twilight—sadly now turned into a horrendous strip mall—Sunnyside, both high schools. He doesn’t think about Betty. And if he fills a few pages of the notebook in his pocket, so what? It’s the nostalgia that inspires him.

He ends up at Pop’s and texts Archie a photo from his lunch with Fred. It’s not a selfie. JB takes it during her shift break, which she spends sitting on the edge of his booth, eating his fries.

When they were kids and he got sent to juvie for the summer for trying to burn down the school, he wasn’t that upset. If anything, it’s a moment in his life he counts as a win because it is the moment he knew unequivocally that Archie and Betty really loved him, that they were really on his team for keeps. They’d each been so angry. Archie had kicked over a table, and Betty had screamed at the guard who caught them, at the principal, at her parents.

He hadn’t been trying to burn down the school. They wanted to camp out at the playground and he was trying to light the bonfire so they could roast hot dogs and s’mores. Betty trembled with fury, accidentally dislodging some sticks and leaves that had gotten stuck in her ponytail. Alight with justice even then, she had been outraged that he got into trouble while she and Archie didn’t. They were all equally guilty. They all had set up the tent, gathered the sticks. Jughead may have been holding the match, but she was holding the box.

But that didn’t matter. His family had moved into the trailer park the spring before, just barely remaining on the Riverdale side of the school district line. His father had been coming home drunk more and more, wearing a black leather jacket with a green snake on the back more and more.

So when Archie and Betty got so mad on his behalf, he wanted to say, “It’s okay, I knew this was coming. I knew this was who I was.” He wanted to say, “Thank you for loving me even though I don’t belong with you.”

His first-day-back-in-Riverdale ritual mostly consists of a long walk rewarded by a Pop’s cheeseburger, fries, and milkshake. But, since he bought the house two years ago, it’s also consisted of waking up far earlier than his body is accustomed to, when he’s sure FP and Jellybean won’t be up yet, and sitting at his kitchen island in a chair he’d built drinking coffee he’d bought. He gets a perverse and vindicating sort of pleasure every time he’s in this house. It reminds him, more than the college degree and the book and the bank account with a comfortable amount of zeros that he’s not that kid in the trailer park anymore. And if he lost a lot on the way to get here, he can live with that. Nothing worth having comes easy.

The Skype call goes just about how he imagines it would. He considers it a success that he only really embarrassed himself the one time. After confiscating and hiding all the lighter fluid, he returns to his perch at the edge of the patio and resumes staring at the iPad’s darkened screen.

“It’s not a surprise, Jughead,” she’d said, so softly. “I have read the book.”

“I know—I know. And I didn’t try very hard to mask the details. But you haven’t read the second one yet.”

“Well, I will soon.” He knows she’s trying to lighten the mood, but she inadvertently touches on exactly what he’s afraid of. What’s he’s dreading. What he wants.

Then he’d taken her outside, in desperate need of a smoke to soothe the nerves she’d frayed. The inquisitive look on her face had been both heartwarming and heart wrenching. As had the realization that he could still read her like a book.

“It’s—uh—a little house off Pine. For Dad and JB. The down payment seemed like a good use of my first advance.” He needs to end this call asap.

“Look — I’ll be back on Monday night but I have some things to take care of. Would Wednesday be okay for you? Say around 8?”

“Yeah, that’ll be great.”

“Thanks. I’ll think of a good place and get in touch.” Then he’d looked up and seen the troupe of teenage girls heading toward the fire pit, sticks and lighter in hand. “Jesus Christ. Her friends have arrived. They’re heading for the fire pit.

“I’ll talk to you soon Betty.”

At some point after JB’s friends descended upon his house but before the party turns so raucous that he feels the need to hide, he walks into the kitchen and finds her alone.

“That was real subtle earlier.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Forsythe.”

“To Love Somebody?”

“I’m working my way through the discography of everyone who was at Woodstock” she says archly. Then, more gently, “So how is Betty?”

“She’s…Betty. Brilliant, blonde, beautiful. All of the positive b adjectives.”

“And how are you?”

“I’m fine, Jelly. I’m a grown up. It’s been more than ten years.”

“But you haven’t moved on.”

“Yes, I have.” At Jellybean’s look he continues, “I have. I have accepted that a part of me will always love her. But I’m not pining. I’m dating, remember? Remember that redhead you said was too hot for me?”

Jellybean rolls her eyes. “That was eight months ago.” They each prepare plates of food in silence for a few moments.

“Her mom and sister come into Pop’s sometimes, you know. With her niece and nephew.”

“That’s not surprising, everyone eats at Pop’s.”

“Polly said she’s single.”

“I don’t want to know why you and Polly were talking about that.”

“I’m serious, Jug. Look, what happened…happened. Maybe you should tell her. Maybe this is the universe giving you an opportunity to make it right.”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s moved on. Telling her would only hurt her all over again. We’re just going to work together, and then I’ll go back to being on the periphery of her life. An old high school boyfriend she runs into occasionally. Now, come here.”

He wraps her up in a hug and rests his chin on the top of her head. “I love you for worrying about me, but I promise I’m okay. Go back outside and drink whatever shitty beer your friends managed to sneak in.”

“We don’t have shitty beer, we have vodka.”

“Christ. Okay, don’t let Dad see it.”

“He won’t. It wouldn’t matter though. He’s doing so good, Jug.”

“It will always matter. And I know he is, I just want to make sure he keeps doing good.”

“He will.” Then Jellybean heads back outside, balancing a paper plate of food in each hand. “And so will you.”

#bughead fanfiction #riverdale fanfiction #bughead #betty cooper #jughead jones #riverdale #mine #second city

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