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padfootastic · 2 years

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so, for s&h sarurday, we’ve got outsider pov of mob boss sirius and a bunch of scary looking mafia underlings showing up to a school play with inconspicuous weapons to see kiddie harry dressed as a tree. confusion & ‘oh my god the boss has a what?’ ensues. slightly crack-y.

Clark Forrest hadn’t planned on going into this line of work, not when he’d graduated with an honours degree in Business Administration. But the economy was…not doing great, bills had to be paid, and he knew someone who knew someone who had very enthusiastically hooked him up with this job so here he was.

Applying his hard earned education to being the accountant for a mob boss.

If only his poor mum, may the Lord bless her soul, could see him now. She’d faint right back into her grave.

To his boss—Mr. Black’s—credit, he wasn’t that kind of mafia, the one with the indiscriminate killing and plucking toenails off and kidnapping children. Clark was sure there was some kind of…illicit activity going on - he wouldn’t be a mob boss if there wasn’t, would he? - but he hadn’t seen anything of the sort as of now, so he could happily go on believing nothing was amiss.

Well, unless you counted the occasional blood on the rug.

That - was clearly one of the more, uh, colourful activities Mr. Black engaged in. He tried not to think hard about it. It could always be red wine?

Was it really a surprise then, that Clark thought it would be something similar, when almost the entire, er, gang was called in for an important meeting?

“Alright, this one’s important so listen up,” Mr. Black ordered.

Now, here’s the thing. For those who hadn’t seen the man, it would’ve been very hard to picture the kind of—aura he had. Outwardly, he was attractive, almost unnaturally so, with high cheekbones, a sculpted nose, grey eyes that were known to inject terror into the hearts of the toughest of men. His hair was cropped close to his head, and he had jewellery pierced through his entire right ear. Tattoos ran down the length of his arms, creeping up the hem of his shirt to skirt around his jaw, peeks of ink around the ankle when he walked.

He looked dangerous, yes. No one would dispute that.

But he didn’t—feel dangerous. Not at first.

Because Sirius Black had an accent as posh as the Queen, with a pleasant smile adorning his face, like he’d just gotten back from a walk. Clark had been under the mistaken impression that the man wasn’t fit to hold the position he did - maybe he’d just gotten it through inheritance? a placeholder, perhaps? - because someone who drank their tea with more milk than tea in it, who sniffed delicately into handkerchiefs and said ‘excuse me’ when he burped—that didn’t seem like a mob moss, never mind that Clark’s only experience with the underworld had been in the form of smuggled DVDs and pirated clips.

It wasn’t until he’d seen what happened when someone defaulted on a payment that he realised exactly how deadly the man was. The screams from behind closed doors still rang in his ears sometimes. The unbothered expression of neutrality on Mr. Black’s face as he exited the room even more haunting.

Coming back to the situation at hand, though, Clark’s back had automatically straightened at Mr. Black’s tone. His brows were furrowed in a deep frown, lips pressed into a line, and he was looking at all the assembled members intently.

“Tomorrow, 9am sharp, not a minute before and not one after—You’ll be outside Collingswood Primary. I want all of you dressed casual. Jeans, jumpers, t shirts, you get it. If I see a single obvious sign that you’re packing, I’ll have you strung upside down from the London Bridge quicker than you can turn the safety off, get it?”

It took a second for Clark to realise he was actually expecting a verbal answer and he hastily added his agreement to the chorus of ‘yes, sir’ and ‘affirmative’ ringing around the room. Mr. Black stared at them for a few seconds longer—seconds that felt like they were stretched into hours. Clark could feel the sweat beading on the back of his neck, not even daring to blink as Mr. Black’s gaze skimmed over the room, only stopping on his for a millisecond. Finally, he nodded and gestured to his right.

“Lupin will give you the address and be your point man for the event tomorrow. We’re going to be undercover in public, which means subtlety and respectability. I expect everyone to show it.” With one final nod, he swept out of the room without a glance backward.

It was like a collective breath was released in that moment because Clark could feel his chest deflating, eyes blinking rapidly in an attempt to understand what just happened.

Did the big boss just tell them to go incognito at a…primary school? One where actual, real kids went to study? Clark was confused because—he could’ve sworn they didn’t do that. Mr. Black hadn’t said it out loud but Clark had always gotten the impression that children were off limits. But that was clearly not the case here.

Maybe he needed to rethink his earlier ‘no kidnapping children’ conviction, and also his employment while he was at it.

Speaking of which, why was he there anyway? He was an accountant, had never been ‘out in the field’ so to speak a day in his life. He couldn’t even identify the parts of a gun if his life depended on it, for Christ’s sake.

Really, the only thing they all had in common was that they looked like they could blend into a crowd—as opposed to Mr. Black and a couple others who looked like they’d stepped off a biker gang catalogue at any given moment—which is, perhaps, why they’d been selected. All the better for going incognito.

“Alright lads, you heard the boss,” Lupin said, before rattling off the address for somewhere in Chelsea. Jesus. “Be there at 9 on the dot, you hear me? That’s when entry starts and it’s first-come-first-serve. Obviously, we want the best seats available. No excuses for being late because if you are, then that’s shop cleanup duty for a week. Alone.”

“But that’s a three man job, at least,” one of the others cried and the almost-sadistic smirk that flitted on the man’s face reminded Clark why, despite his mild mannered looks, he was one of Mr. Black’s main enforcers.

“Guess you won’t be late then, huh?” he replied with a nonchalant shrug.

Clark hastily swallowed all the questions he had at that.

The next morning, the sun was shining bright, the sky was blue without a single cloud and Clark was standing in front of Collingswood Primary—a large, sprawling brick structure with faculty members dotted around the grounds—at eight fifty seven, feeling exceptionally awkward in his polo shirt and khaki trousers.

He tugged at the collar as he surveyed the place. It was a posh neighbourhood, no disputing that. He couldn’t remember ever stepping foot in the area before today and it almost felt like even the air here was too expensive for him to breathe. It was making him even more nervous, then, to imagine what they could possibly be here for. Clark had spotted almost every single person from yesterday’s meeting scattered around the place.

McKinnon was leaning against a tree, phone in hand, and he was slightly envious at how comfortable she looked, while he was sweating in his loafers. Lupin, Meadowes and Longbottom were gathered around the far end of the lane, coffee cups in hand and periodically glancing around. Pettigrew was stuffing a bagel in his mouth, hunched over like he didn’t realise everyone could see him. Clark’s lip curled instinctively at the sight.

Another look around and he realised the man himself, Mr. Black, wasn’t here. Did that mean they had to do…whatever it was…on their own? He wasn’t prepared for this. He was just an accountant who’d taken a wrong turn in life and ended up in this position, both employment-wise and existentially, no matter how cushy the pay was or how many free coffees he got from the communal Keurig.

It was as he was spiralling in the thoughts of what could have been (what if he’d gone into trade school like his da wanted? what if he hadn’t failed third semester corporate finance and had gone into a different kind of cutthroat sector? what if he hadn’t thought a call centre was beneath him? what if—) that he heard a voice call out.

“Mr. Black! Welcome, welcome.”

His head snapped up just in time to look at the tall frame of Sirius Black standing beside a lady who was almost half his height—literally, the top of her blonde bun barely reached his chest—at the front gate. Mr. Black was dressed…differently. His usual leather-jacket-distressed-skinny-jeans look was switched out for a very respectable button down shirt and trouser, still skinny fit of course, and he looked—normal? Not like he was the head of the most terrifying organisation this side of the Thames, not even with the tattoos that were visible all the way from where Clark was standing. He could see him taking the old lady’s hand in a handshake.

“Headmistress Martin, you look lovely as always. I trust you’ve been well?”

Inexplicably, the lady (which—headmistress??), who must be as old as Clark’s grandmum, blushed. “I appreciate that, Mr. Black. You know, I’m glad to catch you here today, I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to make it.”

“As if there’s any way I can miss…” their voices trailed away as they made their way inside and Clark cursed the missed opportunity. He still didn’t know what was happening, and at this rate, his head was hurting because the most recent interaction was telling him there was something else at play here. It didn’t quite seem like they were here to kidnap kids for ransom or blackmail now.

Just as he’d shifted his worldview for the third time in so long, Lupin walked over the entrance and made a signal for the others to follow. Clark, being the closest, ended up directly behind him, which gave him the chance to…subtly listen—not eavesdrop, not his fault people talked too loud these days—to the man’s conversation with the teacher at the gate.

“Six for Harry Potter,” he said, handing over…tickets?

“I just saw Mr. Black go in too,” the teacher replied after writing it down in her clipboard. “Quite a popular kid, that one, isn’t he?”

“We’d like to think so.” Lupin smiled and walked in, seemingly familiar with the building and leading them like a line of ducklings to a door marked ‘Auditorium’. At this point, Clark was—yet again—calibrating his entire worldview. They were here for a…show? A kid’s show, at that? Were they going to drag a kid straight off the stage? Or, was he wrong, and were they here for a parent?

That would actually make more sense. Maybe they had a…client or someone who was hiding, but even cowards could be good parents, right?

He kept telling himself that as they took their seats somewhere down the middle, all in one row. He ended up squished in between Lupin and Longbottom, which was great, really. He could get all the inside gossip without any of the work.

“So when’s the kid coming up?” Longbottom asked, looking around curiously. “And where’s the boss sitting, anyway?”

“Sirius would be somewhere in the front row there. See.” Lupin pointed a finger towards the center of the auditorium, where a fancier set of couches were laid out. Mr. Black was sitting on one of them like he owned the whole place, with the Headmistress and some other distinguished looking officials in conversation beside him. “The lucky bastard, gets the good stuff while we’re stuck on these bloody chairs.”

Sometimes, Clark forgets that these two men went way back—no one else could dream of referring to the boss man like that.

“As for Harry, there’s some sort of a—choir, I believe? Then the play. Shouldnt take too long, it is primary school, at the end of the day.”

“Speaking of primary schools, do you know why we needed to bring our…pieces to one?” Longbottom questioned. Clark barely swallowed down the squeak that followed that line of query. He’d almost forgotten they were…packing. “Does Black think we’ll get attacked out here or something?”

“You know he doesn’t,” Lupin rolled his eyes. “But he’s not taking any chances when it’s coming to Harry. If you think you’re armed, you should’ve seen the assortment he strapped to himself today. If I didn’t know him, I would’ve had him chucked straight into a facility, I’m telling ya.”

“Mate, I know him and still feel the urge sometimes.” Both of them snort in unison at that and Clark is just sitting there, slightly terrified and mostly confused, at the turn of the conversation.

As the—program commenced, Clark keeps a tight grip on the handles of his seat, watching each child and member of the audience carefully. He doesn’t knew what he’d be asked to recount later, and he has no wish to make things harder for himself by losing himself in the spiral of wondering what the fuck was going on. His time at this particular…organisation had taught him two things, if nothing else: head down and no questions. It was how he’d skirted past everyone’s radar so far and he wanted to keep it that way.

The choir came up on stage and performed an—interesting variation on pop songs he’d heard on the radio. Lupin and Longbottom clapped politely when it ended and Clark joined in until the host on stage announced ‘Annual Play! Our little actors have put their heart and soul into this, so please, show them all the love you can’ which led to another round of applause, slightly more raucous this time. He could see Mr. Black was one of the more enthusiastic ones in the audience. Huh. He didn’t think he’d ever seen him smile so big before.

Just as he’s focused on now unnaturally white the man’s teeth were, Lupin leant forward to face their entire row.

“The boss’ kid is coming up now and he expects maximum participation from all of you.”

“The boss’ what?” Clark’s glad that McKinnon chose to voice what they were all thinking because he didn’t think he was brave enough for it, no matter how much he wanted to know.

“His kid, Harry. Keep up, Marlene,” Lupin sighed, like they were being the ones being unreasonable here and not the fact that an entirely new facet about their…organisation’s head had been revealed to them.

“Since when did Black have a child, what the fuck.”

“That’s not important, what is is the fact that Harry’s about to be on stage right now and if you get caught talking during his part, you bet your arse he’s gonna have you cleaning blood off the rug for the whole month.” With that, he turned back to facing the stage, considered the matter closed—no thought given to the others who were stuck in varying stages of disbelief and shock.

“How, er, how exactly are we supposed to know which one the kid is—and does he have a name?” Pettigrew asked, craning his neck around everyone between him—in the last seat—and Lupin.

“It’s Harry, didn’t you hear, Pettigrew?” McKinnon snarked.

“He’s just coming up, wait…” Lupin mumbled, looking intently at the stage where a bunch of kids dressed in colourful fairy tale costumes had arranged themselves. “There! That one.” He pointed towards the back corner of the stage where a small cluster of children were gathered. Clark squinted, trying to identify what was going on. Surely, Lupin didn’t mean—

“The tree?” Meadowes said, incredulously “That’s what we’re all here to see, a kid dressed as a common garden tree?”

Somehow, he didn’t think he could be more shocked and yet, when Lupin nodded, completely seriously, Clark was. His eyes zeroed in on the tree in question—not a hard task considering there was only one—and could just about make out a bunch of hair escaping the band sitting on his head. There was a pair of spectacles sitting on his nose, a bit too large in Clark’s opinion, and his face was pulled up in a wide smile. He was looking straight at the front row and even sitting as far back as he was, Clark could see the joy radiating off him. Cute kid, really, but did nothing to make sense of the befuddlement he was feeling.

Clark turned to his side, saw the varying expressions of confusion and shock lining everyone else’s face, and felt immediately gratified. At least he wasn’t alone.

He went through the rest of the performance barely registering what was happening, like moving through a fog, clapping when Lupin and Longbottom did—which was apparently whenever the tree, sorry, Harry so much as moved—and sneaking glances at Mr. Black all the other times.

It was astounding—the man was leaning forward, elbows planted on knees, an expression of complete rapture on his face like he didn’t want to be anywhere else except here, watching a kid dance around in a plastic shrubbery costume. He clapped frequently and loudly, even letting out a taxicab whistle one time that made Clark double take most comically. The guests on either side of him only smiled indulgently in his direction and that, more than anything, drove home how much of a regular Mr. Black must be among them.

An indeterminate amount of time later, the kids bowed, the host announced the end of the show, and everyone clapped harder than they had so far. Which was really saying something considering how much their group had contributed to the cumulative applause. And that’s not to even mention Mr. Black. But now, everyone was on their feet, and Clark could feel his palms stinging under the onslaught of his enthusiasm. Better that than be reprimanded later, though.

Once the cheers had died down and the host was finished with their closing credits, Lupin turned to them. “We’re going backstage, let’s go.” And promptly got up, walking down the aisle towards the stage. Clark blinked at his abruptness, used to it by now but still not quite, before turning to his other side where Longbottom was flapping his hand in a ‘well, go on then’ motion. He decided to listen and scurried away after Lupin, absently wondering if they looked like a bunch of ducklings following after mama duck. And wasn’t that a thought—the mighty thugs of the London underworld, relegated to animal metaphors.

“Wonderful event, Mr. Smith.” Lupin shook hands with an average white guy at a side entrance. “We’ll just go in here to see our boy, yes?”

“All…of you?” The guy asked, eyeing their procession dubiously.

“Well, of course, Harry’s our favorite little guy,” Lupin replied in the same pleasant voice. Clark didn’t bother to clarify that none of them even knew there was a little guy until an hour ago. If the boss wanted them to say his kid was their favorite, then that’s what they’ll say. It didn’t take long after that for them to be let in. Clark would be more worried about the school’s safety if he hadn’t seen Lupin walk circles around the smartest people he’d ever seen. School cops were no match.

“An’ an’ an’ did ya see the whole t’ing?” An excited voice was saying as they turned the corner. Clark craned his neck and felt his brows creeping up when he assigned it to their favorite little guy—Harry. Who was currently being cuddled—there was no other word for it—by Mr. Black. Harry had his arms wrapped around the man’s neck as he talked and Mr. Black was looking at him with a kind of laser focus Clark had never seen before. And considering he looked after their entire operation’s accounts, that was really saying something.

“I saw the whole thing, baby,” Mr. Black replied, voice soft. Clark and the rest of their entourage were frozen in their positions, not wanting to disturb their conversation. “You were beautiful.”

Harry bit his lip at that, eyes gaze falling to rest on Mr. Black’s collarbone rather than his eyes. “I was jus’ a tree, though, Siri.”

Mr. Black’s eyebrows turned down. “And you were the most perfect tree I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“But it—that’s—trees are boring. Anyone can be one,” Harry’s lower lip looked a bit wobbly there and Clark had just a second to despair, no matter that he was standing too far away to be expected to do anything, before Mr. Black took over, swift and practiced.

“Harry, my love, if anyone can be a tree, and yet it was you that was chosen, then what does that say about you?” Personally, Clark thought that bit of philosophy, while profound, was a bit too complicated for a child.

“But—“

“And,” Mr. Black gently cut in, “If you were boring, then I wouldn’t have cheered as hard as I did, would I? It’s a matter of pride for me that my godson makes such a lovely tree.” He tweaked the kid’s nose, making him let out a wet giggle. But, even Clark, inexperienced as he was around children, could see they weren’t out of the danger zone yet. The kid was still looking a bit troubled there. Clearly, Mr. Black had picked up on it as well because he turned to their little association with an expectant look on his face. Clark hadn’t even realised he’s noticed them but of course he did.

“And if that’s not good enough for you,” he continued teasingly, turning Harry towards them. “Then you can ask any of them and they’d say the same.” Mr. Black’s raised eyebrow was sufficient warning.

Harry, on the other hand, was unaware of the looming danger because he burrowed into his…parent? guardian? uncle? (Seriously, what was the relation here?) as he noticed the bunch of strangers standing there like idiots.

“Who’s they, Siri?” he whispered loudly.

“They’re my friends from work.” Clark pushed down the hysterical snort that wanted to emerge at that statement. “And they came here just for you!”

“Really?” Harry’s eyes—a bright emerald, now that Clark was closer—opened wide in surprise. “All for me?”

“All for you, baby,” Mr. Black reassured him before clearing his throat pointedly. Clearly that was the cue for Lupin, who’d been standing just as quietly, to jump in for he strode forward until he was right in front of the pair.

“Hello, Mr. Harry,” he offered a hand to the kid, who returned the solemn handshake with a grin tugging his lips. “I see you’re well.”

“You too, Mr. Loo-pin,” Harry giggled before leaning forward in Mr. Black’s arms. “Did ya see me pre-pef-peform?”

“I did, you were really quite something, kiddo,” Lupin ruffled his black hair, showing a level of familiarity Clark should’ve come to expect by now. “Thank you for letting me come.”

“But I din’t—“ Harry said, eyebrows furrowed adorably.

“We wouldn’t have seen such a great show if you weren’t acting in it, now, would we?”

“Hm.” While Harry seemed to consider that, Clark and the others had managed to get over their shock to make their way to their boss and his kid.

“Hello, Harry,” Meadowes grinned, bright and friendly, taking the lead. “You were so cool up there!”

The poor kid looked at her with rapidly reddening cheeks. Clearly he wasn’t immune to her charms either. Figures. “T’ank you, miss.” Clark could see Meadowes biting down on her lip, eyes softening in adoration.

“I thought you were the best one on stage, Harry,” Clark added, keeping one eye on his boss who was staring at all of them intently and another on Harry who couldn’t see to stop blushing. As he received another stammered thanks in reply, the others stepped up for their turn at congratulating the kid.

When all of them had finished their round of pleasantries, not that it was much of a chore—while a tree was certainly a forgettable role, Harry was adorable enough to win all of them over—Mr. Black smoothly stepped into the conversation. He ran a gentle hand over the boy’s unruly hair, smoothening it fruitlessly before tucking a few strands behind one ear.

“Will you believe your poor godfather now? Or do I need to shout from the rooftops?”

Harry swatted at his chest feebly, making a face at the gentle teasing. Despite knowing that this was just a kid—the boss’ godson at that—Clark held his breath in anticipation of how such an action would be perceived. Surprisingly (or perhaps not) the boss only grinned, a shocking display of emotions Clark hadn’t ever seen before today.

“So, ice cream in celebration then?” he asked. Clark, still stuck on the relationship reveal, almost replied in the affirmative before realising that would’ve been a supremely awkward thing to do. Clearly he wasn’t the one being asked here.

“Yes, please, Siri!” Harry chirped, bouncing a little in excitement. “Will—will your friends come too?”

“Will they, now?” Mr. Black repeated, looking at them with a raised eyebrow that communicated very well his feelings on the matter. The four of them, Longbottom and Lupin not included, immediately fell over themselves trying to communicate a variety of reasons for why they ‘couldn’t come, so sorry kid, maybe next time?’ in a way that didn’t hurt his feelings or get themselves strung upside down.

“Oh, otay then,” Harry blinked, looking a bit overwhelmed at the sudden onslaught directed at him. “T’ank you for comin’!”

Meadowes was unable to stop herself from cooing this time. Mr. Black snorted softly before inclining his head in their direction, saying ‘thank you’ and dismissing them in one smooth move.

Longbottom and Lupin stayed back, engaging Harry in conversation, while the others slowly walked away, trying to wrap their heads around the events of the day. He could hear snippets of Meadowes and McKinnon conversation, speculating on why they needed to be armed if they were just here to watch a kid’s play, and immediately increased his pace so he didn’t have to hear about things like that again. He really did not want to think about the unsavoury aspects of his job right now, not when he was equally baffled by everything.

Instead, he wondered if he should go job hunting again. All this stress surely wasn’t worth it, was it? Not if he wanted a place right next to his mother in the near future. Maybe he should think of going into the call center industry he’d written off earlier. It didn’t make use of his degree but it also didn’t have guns, the pay was decent, and there was no definitely no blood to clean up on the rug.

#sirius black #harry potter #remus lupin #good godfather sirius black #sirius and harry saturday #mob boss sirius black #an oc with the stupidest name on earth #literally used it as a placeholder but i can’t find anything better lol #outsider pov #look i finished it! a bit disjointed but the spirit is there i think #i started this like two months ago bc of this mental image of a bunch of scary thugs showing up to the school #for harry dressed in the most mundane outfit because sirius is a PTA Parent #and that fact remains true even in a universe where he’s a scary mobster #the ending is kind of meh but we’ve established i’m not good at those #but yeah. big terrifying man who’s super soft for his kid.#a+ concept. love to see it.#tumblr works #pen’s writing

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stsebastiens · 7 months

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going insane. going craaaaaazy

#ely.txt #they were like 'haha heehee show about mobsters'#except now we're unpacking mental health mortality and the strain of familial relationships!

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mirakurutaimu · 4 months

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some time during the stream last night Holly & wayne said something abt the alcohol turning u into either 1920s mob goon or an orc. anyway the mental image was visceral enough 2 break me out of an artblock so heres the mobster orc variant Mimi

ohhhh i saw this in the discord and fuckin loved it, thank u 😭

#askmi #impicture #her thick ahh

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christinebloodwrittings · 14 days

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To hunt or be hunted #8

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: The revelation that pulled off bits of your armor. Warnings: Song fic, violence, mental breakdown.

Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24 @martinys-world @alientee @jellyroom2 @jewelsrules @ladyzaunis @zealousllamawolf @kittycat246 @shamblezzz

(Picture belongs to Vivzie) (I’ll Never Smile Again, by Tommy Dorsey)

After taking a deep breath, you opened the duffle bag. A brown leather bag containing the clothes you died in, a man’s hunting attire you borrowed from a dead man, and your axe. You smiled, remembering when Charlie tried to lift it, the metal of the blade being far too heavy to carry, even with both her hands.

In yours it weighed a lot, but that gave you always the necessary momentum to cut a skull in half.

For this event, you would have to look like the Axe-man, for that you used the black corset, had a plaque of angelic steal embedded under the fabric. On top of the white dress shirt, your brown vest and long black coat. On one thigh you strapped your dagger and on the other a small pistol, both covered by the long brown skirt that matched your vest.

As you made your was back to the parlor, your serious aura called the attention of the members in the room, “Someone’s gonna die” Angel partially joked, essentially because your pupils weren’t dilated and you looked armed to the teeth.

“Oh darling, now that is how we kill in style” Alastor brought your eyes to him by directing your face with a finger under your jaw.

“Hopefully we won’t have to, but it doesn’t hurt to be ready” You noticed Alastor’s bow tie was slightly out of place, so you took it upon yourself to pull him to lean a little, undo it, and tie it to perfection all over again. He had left his tie crooked on purpose so you would fix it.

“Uuh, smiles got a date” Angel winked at you, “This will be more fun than a that, won’t it, Alastor?” he put his hand on your shoulder smiling sweetly, “Indeed chérie”, maybe you’ll admit to him that you adore the way he speaks French to you, one day.

“Be careful, with whatever you guys do” Charlie felt some of your pain, it would weight on her far too much if she did entirely. The thought of not seeing you again hunted her as the months got by, would never say that directly to you.

“We will princess, don’t fret, I would never risk an asset as priceless as our dear chef” he made you laugh, “Asset?” you playfully hit his side, “I mean it in the best of ways, sweetheart” in a way to fix his dumb joke, he took your hand and kiss your palm.

“Going out?” Lucifer walked down the stairs, you noticed he was fresh out of the shower, given hoy fluffy his hair looked, oh how you wanted to pat his head. “Y/n and I will be addressing a loose end, nothing that your royal highness should worry about” you rolled your eyes at the bitterness in the words ‘your royal highness’ coming from Alastor.

“Just visiting some mobsters, we will be back soon, my lord” he frowned, but he smiled through his discomfort. “Can I go? Maybe I can be of assistance, no one would be stupid enough to cross me” He tugged at the lapels of his jacket with pride, winking at you with a sly smile, ‘Would it offend him if I say no because I want to command respect for being me?’ you thought.

You ended up feeling guilty for even thinking that, so you just caressed his cheek, “Maybe next time?” he nodded into your hand, then repeated “Next time”.

“Shall we, my dear?” Alastor’s voice behind you reminded you, “Right, don’t wait up, okay?” Lucifer took your hand before it leaved his skin, “Be safe” he kissed your knuckles, “We will, I promise” the little king enjoyed to no end the angry face Alastor made when he smiled into your hand during the small kiss.

Alastor didn’t moved around town in conventional ways on his day to day, but for that occasion he got a sweet deal on a red and black Model T Ford, to take you with style to the meeting. “Al, sweetie” At some moment you just couldn’t hold your laughter, “Yes chérie?” his prideful face made your laugh worse.

“I love the intention, but it’s a shit car” you felt the need to caress his arm, but given the early morning activities, you decided to give him some space. “No it’s not” he opened the door for you, as the lovely gentleman he is, “Sugar, even if they made the pieces down here, which they don’t, it’s a shit design, you got scammed” he made a few old timey showbiz laughs as he materialized inside the car.

“You forget I’m the Radio Demon” he put in the key, the engine sounded like a rooster with asthma, something must have gotten stuck between the spark plugs because the hood popped and smoke clouded the windshield.

“DON’T you say it” he warned, annoyed when he heard your mocking laughter, “I told you” he was not having it, “Want me to fix this?” he groaned. He saw you tinkering the engine for a few minutes, then come back inside the car. He tried the key one more time, when it ignited, the purr the car made was similar to a Lamborghini’s.

“I learned that in a convent” he was flabbergasted, “I even fought a nun; I was such a rebel, hit her with what I thought it was a crucifix, turned out to be a satanic church” he chuckled, not saying a word because he still couldn’t believe what just happened.

“Ha! Now that I remember, Lucifer would faint if he saw how they portrait him” you looked into the glove box finding a pair of sunglasses, “Boy you do not wanna know how high I flew out though a stained glass” you stopped talking seeing his eyes shining, “What?” he chuckled, “You keep on amazing me” how you blushed made his heart sing.

Standing on the sidewalk in front of the building, you were out of breath for a second. “Nervous?” Alastor took your hand, helping you to regain some composure, “Either that or my corset is too tight” that too, but mostly nervous. “Just breathe darling” easy for him to say, “I haven’t done anything like this in thirty years” he pulled on your hand, hugged your whole body with a good loving squeeze and a twirl. “You’ll be great darling, just be your adorably deadly self” if you had your soul you would feel it swoon, “Thank you for supporting me on this” after a little kiss on your cheek he hooked your arm with his heading for the door.

“I will be out here if you need me” You appreciated his gesture, it was clear that he believed in your abilities and your strength, but that he would be there for you if you needed backup. Well if that didn’t made you confident, nothing will.

“Miss Axe-man! Wha-what-” one mobster shark shook in his seat after you kicked the door open, “Tony Redstone, my name is Y/n Lionheart” The office, a long room with a table of the same length in the center, mobsters of every caliber you can imagine sitting along it. At the end, in a leather chair, a man, a big man with a mustache so Italian that it said mamma mía by itself.

“The Axe-man of Louisiana” some of the men whispered, air caught in their throats as they processed the facts. “I gotta say kid, you got some nerve to stand here today alone” the raspy voice of Tony made it to your seat at the other end, “You sure have some nerve to receive me without a single pint or jazz playin’” one mobster ran to the cd player, making sure Miles Davis played in the background.

“I thought the murderer was a well, a man” laughed one before your axe went swiftly though his head and back to your hand, “Let’s get down to business, why are ya’ here for?” he played no mind to his comrade’s death, it made you laugh a bit.

“Does James Alden ring a bell?” his name on your tongue was like acid, “How could I forget? Poor fucker sold his own daughter to pay off his debt, what about him?” the spell you put around you was growing weary, the one that hides the corruption away.

“This is more about the child” now that raised suspicion, “What did you do with her?” there was some laughs at the table, “What is it to ya’?” asked one, “You’re exhausting my patience” you whispered as the multiple man started to question your intentions and seriousness.

“Look, it’s none of your business whore, now get outta ‘ere” you took a deep breath, “This will be the last time I ask politely” you never bothered to sit down, however that was the moment you did, making the chair squeak against the floor as you dragged it back enough to sit, “What did you do with my daughter?”.

“Alden married the Axe-man? Lucky bastard” again with the whispering, you lost a nerve, threw the axe around again, killing two more, “What did you do with my daughter?”. “YOU CRAZY BITCH!” yelled the next one to die, “What did you do to her? She was innocent, just a babe!” your voice started to pick up some volume.

“I wanted to raise her as my own, but my wife, she drowned her in the river” Tony blatantly said, ever so calmly.

As the sounds of breaking bones, screams and violence escalated, Alastor put the newspaper he was reading aside, regretting having done so when he opened the door to the room.

A chimera, or at least it seemed like one, had its horns destroyed, the tail of a normal lion instead of a snake, and the goat that should have been the second head did not exist. The noise that the creature's hooves made as it destroyed everything inside the office made goosebumps into his skin.

When the bat wings moved, Alastor had a clear view of your completely red eyes, completely animalistic face, a lion in all your glory, your roar silenced the static of his shivers.

That was the monster that terrified both Louisiana and hell before his arrival.

“I tried to stop her, I swear to god” you stomped on Tony’s legs again, “I TOLD YOU, I TRIED!” he screamed, making you smile, “What kind of monster accepts children as payment? I HELD HER ONCE, ONCE!” one last roar that pulverized his whole body.

“Al…Alastor” your distorted voice address to him, “I’m right here” he managed to say without choking on his own voice. Your body decreased in size as you approached him, breaking one or another skull that was on the ground, “Let’s go”, he nodded, following you to the street.

Neither of you said anything in the 15 minutes since Alastor started the car, driving around the city without necessarily getting anywhere. With his gaze he examined your body but everything was so perfectly covered, he didn't know whether to ask you if you were hurt or if you needed something, or what was going through your mind.

So he decided to drive towards Cannibal Town.

You didn't argue with him, when he parked the car and opened the door for you, offering his arm at the same time, you took it and walked together through the town.

“Would you like to eat something dear?” you shook you head, “I’m losing my mind” “I know a place that serves the best venison in hell, maybe just a bite, you didn’t touched your breakfast this morning”

“I held her once, Alastor, I’ll never get that back” your eyes tung, briefly the tears rolled down your cheeks, "I thought I could get fixed, with this the last piece of my fucking puzzle, to maybe die with some peace, yo know?" He opened his mouth to ask what were you talking about, but you didn't let him.

"But I felt nothing, just anger and emptiness, my daughter didn’t even had a chance at life, how is she going to answer for herself in purgatory with three days of being born?!" You let his arm go, to hug yourself, "Or maybe they waited a bit before they drown her, who the fuck knows?" He noticed your knuckles had gone white and your claws were sinking into your arms.

"Why God? Why! She was innocent, at least give me a sign she's there with you" you yelled to the sky, your vision clouded with tears.

"Why, if I tie everything together? I have tasted every drug ever created, met all the celebrities I wanted, had my fill of every kind of demon in hell, and I'm still missing something!" In a moment your fist made it to a wall, making a big hole where your fist landed and lots of cracks.

"I will die and I'm still...looking for something I have no idea what is" broken sobbing mess, that's one way to put your mind in, with cannibals looking at you like you had gone insane and Alastor not knowing what to do.

He made himself appear in front of you, offering his hand to you. Looking up to his unreadable face, you took his hand.

You were going to die? He thought, that sentence alone took something alive that grew next to his heart and rip it apart, how? Why? Was it related to your deal to the princess? If yes could he ask the princess to change it? To make it void? What could drive you to kill yourself if it didn’t?

He continued walking, he attempted to go to the gardens, but then had a better idea.

The shadows surrounded you and Alastor, movement seemed to pass through you, but when everything stopped and your feet hit the ground again, you were deep into what it looked like a swamp.

Alastor's bayou.

"Alastor?" you called for him, his hand was still in yours, but he didn’t faced you. "Is it your choice, to end your life?" no answer, just a nod on your part, "Why?" in simple words, "I can’t bear the pain anymore" he finally put two and two together, "Is that why you didn't wanted to talk to me? To be alone with me?" he carried pain on the word alone, "I didn't wanted to hurt you, and as of this morning I went a little selfish there".

"Y/n" he didn’t knew what to say, how could someone How could he help a suicidal person, when he’s brings death to others? "I gave a lot of thought to find a reason to live, after a while it became senseless" he turned around to see you, "Well I don't mean to be that kind of person, but...how about me?" his free hand made your skin melt, "You don't know what you're asking for".

"Or maybe you underestimate my understanding" despite his adorable face, you had heard that before, "Here we go again, don't try to tell me that suddenly you love me or anything" your laugh only made him scoff.

"Would it be too hard to believe? I do not love you as a fact, I have never felt such a thing except for...my mother" hugging him was the perfect move after mentioning his mother, even knowing how much Alastor appreciates her, even in death.

"Nonetheless, I enjoy being with you, being under your culinary care all these time" not that he knew who cooked, but he always thought it was specially made, "You would eat nothing but rotten meat if I didn't" he lowered to your ear, "I also don't sleep much, so there were a few moments in which I saw you turning my radio studio off and place a blanket over my shoulders" the way he felt you tensed up made him laugh.

"I just… I care too much" he circled your waist, "And this morning, was that just caring too much?" he really needed an answer, as to not regret it. "I told you; I was selfish...I just wanted to feel-" he interrupted you, his breath hitting your lips, "Loved" you went forward, pecking his lips, "Like someone cared for...me".

His staff made a static noise, then music played, the melody brought you a longing feeling, of a time when you waited patiently for his segment at the radio.

“I'll never smile again, until I smile at you” he begin singing, “I'll never laugh again, what good would it do?” he twirled you around, your back then pulled against his chest, “For tears would fill my eyes, my heart would realize, that our romance is through” his voice had moments without his static, sending a thrill down your spine.

“I'll never feel again, I'm so in sync with you” you followed the next line, his cheeks blushing as you did, “I'll never thrill again, to somebody new” he sang, placing a kiss to your temple, “Within my heart, I know I will never start” he turned you around waltzing you around “To smile again, until I smile at you”.

“Within my heart, I know I will never start, to smile again” your voices harmonized, “Until I smile at you” he joined his forehead with yours, “Until I smile at you” then he kissed you, the music turning into soft jazz.

"I hope I laid my intentions properly" he whispered against your lips, "Are you still staying with the king?" Due to his aversion to contact, he didn't really mind you having the extra attention, what did sting his pride was if he tried to win you over.

"I made him a promise so, yes" he hummed, "Is that wrong?" he shook his head, "How about we see to lunch? We can go out or I can cook for you" his alluring tone made you want to strip him, "It's almost dinner time, we might as well cook something for everyone, don't you think?" cooking with you? His tail almost broke a hole into his pants due to all the wagging, "Unless you don't want to" he chuckled, "Lead the way" he placed a kiss on your neck, night on where he bit earlier.

"You're testing my respect for your boundaries sir" he looked at you almost innocently, "Am I? I haven't noticed" you hit him gently on his arm, "Whatever you say, radio love".

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

Part 9.

Stay tuned ;3

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linkspooky · 6 days

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Hot take of the morning: Should superheroes kill?

Every time I see a superhero kill a villain, I always see people respond with "Finally. A hero just kills a guy. No "If we kill them we're not better than them handwringing."

Which like okay, there settle down bro.

People always talk about this in moral absolutes though, like heroes shouldn't kill the bad guys because they always have to be better, or heroes should kill the bad guys because retaliating against violence against someone who's trying to kill you doesn't make you as bad as they are.

However, my answer to Should Superheroes kill is - it depends on the hero.

Batman's an entire character is written around how he wants to redeem Gotham and save the city, most of his villains aren't even sent to prison they're sent to Arkham a facility that's supposed to rehabilitee the mentally ill so they can rejoin society. Batman has decided it's his place to stop crime, not his place to decide whether or not people have the right to live or redeem themselves.

Batman is also at risk for being just like his villains, that's why he's foils with Harvey Dent, someone who tried to prosecute people under the law who then snapped and went full violent mobster vigilante. Batman actually is at risk for walking the same path as Harvey if he decides murder is an option.

What inspired this post was Rogue dropping Trask to his death from several stories up, which like you go girl. A lot of people on the internet cheered her on for not showing mercy.

However, in this case killing makes sense for Rogue's character. Rogue didn't start out as a hero, she was raised by Mystique and Destiny, she was a violent terrorist in support of mutant's rights as a member of the brotherhood of evil mutants. She eventually found redemption with the X-men and became a hero insstead.

It makes sense for Rogue's character to take a darker turn and start killing because she's been there before, and now her attempts to walk the high road only to watch people continue exterminating mutants has left her bitter and falling back to her old ways.

In one sense killing a man who made a machine that led to the massacre of mutants on Genosha isn't making you as bad as him, he's the violent instigator here. On the other hand, considering Rogue's past it's a sign of her mental regression though completely understandable because honestly who wouldn't get sick of trying to walk the high road when the result is remy's death and so many other mutants buried.

It's a part of a character arc.

If Peter Parker were to drop a man from several stories up intentionally, that would be a betrayal of his character. Peter never wants to kill his villains, he's interacted with the Punisher before and been disgusted with the guy, he thinks the Punisher is a bully that's barely any better than the people he hates. But it makes total sense for Rogue here.

#Spooky Speaks #xmen97

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jubileemon · 1 month

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Striker having a more comedic tone in "Western Energy" is because we are seeing him in the privacy of his own home, where the only supposed witness (Stolas) to his less intimidating quirks is going to be dead anyway. Stella altered the hit dragged things out until M&M showed up. Suddenly, him gouging out Stolas' eyes makes a whole lot more sense.

He doesn't want anyone else describing what his home looks like and how he acts outside of his professional side in "Harvest Moon Festival". "Oops" further adds to this idea, as, when he's back out in the field, he's much more serious and threatening once again.

Striker wanting to get hired by Crimson makes sense considering what we saw of his home life two episodes ago. He's not even living in a house, just an old mine tunnel, meaning that he's most likely well below the poverty line. By working for a mobster, Crimson could easily keep the jobs flowing, and Striker would have a steady source of income.

Striker's sanity slippage makes a lot more sense when you look at his track record seen on the show. For someone who is shown to be and sells himself as the ace, he has lost to a washed up circus clown turned gunman, two Imps he'd written off as weak and the same clown turned gunman while another clown kept him distracted. These are people who, on paper, Striker could snap like twigs, and yet he just can't seem to win against them.

To add insult to injury, Striker keeps getting relentlessly mocked with kink humor and it's all chipping away at his cowboy machismo. No wonder he's becoming feral with rage.

Another reason why he loses to them is that I.M.P uses every trick both in and out of the book to get an advantage. He could do fine with against other serious opponents but against walking mental nutcases? He just keeps getting blindsided by their tactics and antics that no sane person would have done.

#hazbin analysis #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #helluva boss blitz #helluva boss #helluva #helluva boss analysis #striker #striker helluva boss #helluva boss striker #helluva boss stolas #blitzo helluva boss

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acewritesfics · 6 months

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Nothing Else Matters | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: No.

Warnings: Mentions of war. Not my favorite imagine that I've ever written.

Word count: 800

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. YOU CAN FIND THE ORIGINAL POST STILL FLOATING AROUND ON TUMBLR SOMEWHERE. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

"Nothing else matters as long as we are together," Tommy speaks softly to Y/N as they slow dance to the classical tune that is playing through the gramophone in the corner of their living room. "You make me forget about everything and everyone but you."

She shuts her eyes and rests her head on his shoulder. His arm around her waist pulls her closer to him as he sways to the rhythm of the music. His words make her heart skip a beat. Tommy hardly ever talked about his feelings. When he did, he was alone with her.

Y/N was his longest and dearest friend before she became his wife. Tommy and Y/N have known each other since they were babies since their mothers were more like sisters than best friends.

The two women became pregnant around the same time, with Tommy being born two months before Y/N.

Even though Y/N's affections for the Birmingham mobster deepened throughout the years before Tommy was sent to war, their friendship never blossomed romantically until Tommy returned home when the war was over. She didn't confess her love to Tommy until he was ready to board the train that was taking him away from her and his family. She pleaded with him to return home because she couldn't bear to live without him.

Throughout the war, the two exchanged letters between his visits home. Once his letters stopped closer to the end, she feared the worst. During his visits home she could see how much the war was changing him and the others. He wasn't the Tommy she'd grown up with but her love for him never wavered.

She hugged Arthur and John after they hugged their aunt and sister, kissing their cheeks, delighted to have them home alive. Her heart ached for John, whose wife had died not long before his return. She had helped Polly and Ada take care of the kids and Finn, the youngest of the Shelby siblings.

It wasn't until the most of the families had left the station that she spotted the Shelby brother, whom she had feared was lost. She was filled with emotion when she saw him standing there, bruised and broken but still alive. Her eyes welled up with tears as she ran towards the man she loves, his arms stretched out to greet her as she landed in his arms. Tommy kissed her before she could say anything, afraid that this was all a dream.

The couple's relationship was not easy. Tommy was overcoming the trauma he had experienced while in France and readjusting back into society. Tommy frequently awoke believing he was still in the French trenches and that he was still being tortured all over again. He tried numerous times to convince Y/N to leave him, but the more he tried, the more she proved she would not leave him. The nights he spent with her, the nightmares, the memories, and the mental scars faded to the back of his mind.

He realises in those moments just how much he loves her, how much he appreciates her, and how much he had been taking her for granted. It's always been her for Thomas Shelby. And for her, it's always been him. It took a war and years apart for him to realise it.

"Tommy?" she asks, lifting her head from his shoulder to look into his magnificent icy blue eyes.

He responds, looking intently into her eyes, "Yes, love?"

"I need you to be safe tomorrow," she says, recalling his meeting at the horse races. She is aware that things with the Shelby Brothers hardly ever go as anticipated. "At the first sign of trouble, you get out of there."

Her greatest fear throughout the war was Tommy not returning home. She still feels the same fear even though there is no longer a war.

"I may come home a little banged up from time to time, but I always return home to you," He makes an attempt to soothe her worries.

She moves away from him and says, "It's not only me you have to return home to, Thomas; I'm not raising our child without you." His gaze travels to her belly, to the small bump where his baby is growing. "And you still have to marry me. We can't be married if you're not here."

"Everything will be alright," Tommy promises her as he brings her back into his arms. He places his hand on her tiny bump, "Now, instead of worrying about me, you worry about Tommy Jr. in there."

He sways to the music once more as she puts her head back on his shoulder. "I'll always worry about you, Tommy, the both of you because I have no doubt this child will be his father's son."

#acewritesfics repost #tommy shelby x reader

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visenyaism · 2 months

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Do you think Tony Soprano was a true psychopath or did he have something else going on mentally?

psychopath suggests he’s abnormal and you cannot say that when he is the exact same flavor of violent, insecure about masculinity, racist, clinging onto imagined idealized tradition, father issues, misogynistic, suuuuper paranoid about being cucked evil that like. most conservative men (and all fascist men) have. it’s just most tony sopranos become cops or republican state senators and not mobsters

#alí and i both wrote our theses on early 20th century ethnonationalism so when tony started talking about retvrning to italy it was like.#well we know this exact type of guy nothing remarkable about that

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tomorrowusa · 11 months

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Don't think that patiently explaining the legalities and details of the Trump indictment will change the minds of the MAGA crowd about it. Those folks, like Trump, simply don't believe in the rule of law.

There may be some Republicans who secretly believe the charges have merit but are scared shitless of what may happen if they say so in public.

A reasonably healthy party might give its indicted leader some benefit of the doubt, while calling for judgment to be withheld before he has his day in court. But Republicans correctly understand that their party will consider Trump an innocent martyr regardless. The sickness of the Republican Party as it is presently constituted is that there is no conceivable set of facts that would permit it to acknowledge Trump’s guilt. What has brought the party to this point is the convergence of its decades-long descent into paranoia with its idiosyncratic embrace of a career criminal.

Yep, the GOP has been drifting in this direction for a long time. Trump's emergence finally nudged them into being a full-blown paranoid cult.

The Republican Party’s internal culture has been shaped by what Richard Hofstadter famously described as “the paranoid style” in American politics. Hofstadter specifically attributed this description to the conservative movement, which, at the time, was a marginalized faction on the far right but has since completely taken control of the party and imposed its warped mentality on half of America. To its adherents, every incremental expansion of the welfare state is incipient communism, each new expansion of social liberalism the final death blow to family and church. Lurking behind these endless defeats, they discern a vast plot by shadowy elites. In recent years, the Republican Party’s long rightward march on policy has ground to a halt, and it has instead radicalized on a different dimension: ruthlessness. Attributing their political travails to weakness, Republicans converged on the belief that their only chance to pull back from the precipice of final defeat is to discard their scruples. A willingness to do or say anything to win was the essence of Trump’s appeal, an amorality some Republicans embraced gleefully and others reluctantly. Trump, by dint of his obsessive consumption of right-wing media, grasped where the party was going more quickly than its leaders did. This aspect of Trump’s rise was historically necessary. All Trump did was to hasten it along.

This is Trump's legal philosophy (if you want to call it that) in a nutshell...

Trump was not raised in a traditional conservative milieu. He came into a seedy, corrupt world in which politicians could be bought off and laws were suggestions. He worked with mobsters and absorbed their view of law enforcement: People who follow the law are suckers, and the worst thing in the world is a rat.

Trump is basically a petty mobster. That explains why he hates the FBI.

It is the interplay of the two forces, the paranoia of the right and the seamy criminality of the right’s current champion, that has brought the party to this point. Trump’s endlessly repeated “witch hunt” meme blends together the mobster’s hatred of the FBI with the conservative’s fear of the bureaucrat. His loyalists have been trained to either deny any evidence of misconduct by their side or rationalize it as a necessary countermeasure against their enemies. The concept of “crime” has been redefined in the conservative mind to mean activities by Democrats. They insist upon Trump’s innocence because they believe a Republican, axiomatically, cannot be a criminal.

That Manichean view fits in well with the radical Christian fundamentalist tendency in the GOP. Though instead of Jesus Christ, the credo of Republicans is to accept Donald Trump as their personal Lord and Savior. By that reasoning, Donald Trump is incapable of wrongdoing.

#donald trump #trump's indictment #trump's guilt #republicans #the gop #maga zombies #the far right #the paranoid style in american politics #conservatives #election 2024 #jonathan chait

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 11 months

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Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Disclaimer: stories are fictitious and should not be taken literally, the behavior is entirely imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

Updated & repaired: 16/07/2023 (if a story won't load or something else, please message me and let me know)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Fluff🌺 Angst 🌩️ Smut❤️‍🔥

5/7 STORIES

5 Types Of Kisses🌺

MY HEADCANONS W/ OTHER CHARACTERS:

Speak In Flowers 🌺 Flowers speak their own words and show their actions. And your man loves to speak it out loud.

Visiting Your Hometown 🌺 how would your boy act when you drag him along to your hometown

Helping You To Accept Your Stretch Marks 🌺your boy helps you accept your beautiful stretch marks as they are...pure perfection

Explaining To Your Man Kdramas🌺I (V) wrote small drabbles that paired my favorite men and dramas that I absolutely love

Dating A Tattoo Artist 🌺 being a tattoo artist and your boyfriend being part of it

When Tough Times Occur 🌺Life itself can be a pain and with its obstacles, it can seem impossible to overcome it but that’s what makes us stronger as people.

Someone Rubs You The Wrong Way With... 🌺 how would your man protect you when someone doesn’t mind your business

Having A Shower ❤️‍🔥having a shower with your man sounds like heaven right?!

One Thing He Loves About You (Physically Or Mentally)🌺 the title spoils the ending a bit

No Nut November ❤️‍🔥in the glory of No Nut November, you make a bet with your liver saying if they fail you cuff them and use them to your liking but if you lose they get to fulfil one of their fantasies. And you are keen on it to make them lose, by any means.

ASKS

Movie Watchers 🌺Could you do a little something with him? He and the reader watch a movie but he wants to be close to her so she ends up in his lap and you know fluff ! 💜

Taking Off Their S/O's Makeup 🌺 (Could you do Duncan vizla,the joker and whoever else you’d like.)taking off their s/o makeup after they come from a nightout because they are to drunk to do it themselves 💛

DRABBLES FROM MY 🧠

Mysterious Cafe Meet Up 🌺 Bucky meets a girl who helps him with his writer's block

New Arm Who This? 🌺 The good old’ ‘Bucky is insecure because of his arm’ trope because I'm a sucker for it

Safe Haven🌺 You and Bucky share a secret place together where you escape when the world gets too loud.

Plum Market 🌺inspired by the gif where Bucky is holding plums

Fluff Alphabet🌺

Kiss Me Like You Miss Me 🌺Bucky wants Y/n

Bubble Bath Confessions 🌺Bucky + Bubbles = piece of heaven

Celebrating The New Year With Bucky🌺

Meeting Yoga!Bucky🌺

Did You Get Nervous Over A Rose? 🌺Bucky is building his communication with his love Y/n

Having A Secret Relationship With Bucky Barnes

DIFFERENT AUs

His Little Rose (Demon!AU)🌺

Feeling Complete(Mobster!AU)🌺

STORIES

Kisses In Front Of The Door (PART 1 OF 2)🌺 Bucky loves to kiss

Maybe A Wedding For Us? (PART 2 OF 2) 🌺 Bucky loves to ask you something while you two dance

Youth (PART 1 OF 2) 🌩️ inspired by Shawn Mendes’s song Youth

Youth (PART 2 OF 2) 🌩️Bucky’s thoughts after the snap

SHORT IMAGINES

Not The Marriage Type?🌺

Finding Bucky’s Old Videos🌺

Bucky Telling Steve He Has A Partner🌺

Reuniting With Bucky 🌺

Baking Cookies 🌺

#bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barns x you #winter solider one shot #winter solider imagine #winter solider x reader #bucky barnes masterlist #avengers imagine #avengers smut #marvel #marvel imagine

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astrronomemes · 9 months

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TEXT POST STARTERS V

a collection of quotes and quips from popular internet posts. change & alter as needed.

"I've been a prime suspect in over thirty murder cases."

"You'd be amazed at how many times I've fucked around without finding out a single thing."

"Well, you know what they say: you snooze, you lose. It looks like you snost and you lost."

"Bipolar disorder has nothing on the epic highs and lows of high school football."

"Without a queen to lay eggs, how will more British people be born?"

"Mentally, I am a little corn snake in a winter hat."

"If you pass the drug test at Domino's, they fire you."

"Mobsters are part of a mob. And so you'd think lobsters would be part of a lob. But life just isn't that simple."

"Dudes don't get lost at sea like they used to."

"Old McDonald had enough!"

"You are small potatoes to me, and brother, I'm about to start mashing."

"Every time I think I have a new hobby, it turns out I just like to buy stuff."

"As soon as she unblocks me, the wedding is back on."

"The word 'coward' should really mean 'to move in the direction of a cow'."

"Being bilingual means double the sad songs you can cry to."

"Here are some fresh ibuprofen pills for you to snack on."

"I'm so scared of bugs. A motherfucker could rob me with a centipede."

"I'm having the hamster urge to die tragically and abruptly."

"You swear on your life? Bitch, you're suicidal half the damn time. Swear on something else."

#rp meme #roleplay meme #rp starters #roleplay starters #dialogue prompts #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #rp memes #roleplay memes #sentence memes #sentence prompts #sentence starters

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whereianonymouslypostfics · 11 months

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The Flip Side Part 1

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~9.7k

Summary: Your motivation to continue working as a mobster in Chicago is dwindling after the birth of your daughter.

A/N: Here it is. The basically flipped script where Y/n is a mob boss and Wanda’s our adorable, lovable civilian. Overall this story has darker themes than the first one. There are a lot of references to alcoholism, violence, death, and past physical/emotional abuse. I’ll put warnings for each part, but if any of this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read!

Warnings: angst, references to alcoholism, suggestive content, domestic fluff (assume the first two will always be present unless stated otherwise)

The sound of Wanda’s screams reverberating off of the walls made you feel like you were crawling out of your skin. You hated to hear her sound so in pain, and knowing that she truly was made it even worse. You’d spent months, maybe longer trying to mentally prepare yourself for this day, and you truly never got to the point where you felt like you were ready. It was near agony having to just sit and watch and wait as Wanda did all of the work to bring your daughter into the world.

You and Wanda had wanted to have a baby since the day you got married. Honestly Wanda had wanted one earlier than that. She had always wanted to be a mom, and even though the foster dogs that ran around the penthouse counted as children, she wanted a baby. You’d been on board with the idea, but of course you couldn’t commit to it right then and there. A lot of preparation was required before you could feel ready to have a child. You needed to be at least a little more stable at work, and this was honestly the most time-consuming part of it all. Wanda had understood and you’d slowly done what was necessary to make sure you weren’t so front and center. You’d delegated until you felt like everything was out of your hands and you had very little control over it, but nearly three years later the day had arrived.

The equally important part of preparing for a baby that you conveniently had forgotten was arguably the most important. As you held your wife’s hand and tried to soothe her through labor, you realized that you hadn’t given being a parent more than the occasional thought. You knew that Wanda was over the moon and she was dying to meet your baby, but you were still a little nervous. You wanted this too, you hadn’t just agreed to make Wanda happy, but you’d forgotten how much pressure you would be putting on yourself by having a child with Wanda.

You feared every day that something would happen to her because of what you did, and you did everything you could to make sure she was safe. You had her tailed wherever she went, and you had gotten her to agree to being tracked in the least invasive way possible. You knew that Wanda tolerated it because she loved you, but you couldn’t help but want to put her and this baby on lockdown until the unforeseeable future. The idea of bringing your daughter into a world where she’s already at risk because of your less than legal occupation was terrifying. However, you’d agreed to this and now it was up to you to do your part and make things as safe as possible for your family.

“Y/n!”

You jerk away from whoever rudely shoved you awake, and you’re quickly reaching for your gun before you can stop yourself. You see Bucky out of the corner of your eye holding up his hands in surrender as he shoots you a look.

“Woah, it’s just me! Don’t shoot unless you want to drive yourself home.”

You frown as his words register and your hand drops from your hip as you sigh in exhaustion. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep here. You were supposed to be finishing up work before leaving on time to make it to dinner with your wife and child. It was mostly with your wife, but your now-6-month-old would be there, and you’re sure that Pietro would be as well.

You only take a second to wonder why you’d dream about Natalya’s birth of all things before you climb to your feet. You look around lazily for your phone and keys, and you curse when you see the missed calls from Wanda.

“She asked me to check up on you. You told her you’d be home earlier.”

You can’t help but groan in annoyance at yourself as you nod and follow Bucky out of the room. You had been swamped at work as usual, and as soon as you’d come back from an exhausting meeting this afternoon, you’d fallen asleep at your desk. You only cast a cursory glance at the mess you’re leaving before patting your friend on the back with a smile.

“Wanda’s cooking my favorite tonight. Do you want to join us?”

You have a feeling you know what his answer will be, but you wait until he tells you for certain that he’ll be busy tonight. You nod in understanding before following the brunette to your car. You sigh heavily as you get into the passenger seat and you close your eyes as you wait for Bucky to join you. He does quickly but he doesn’t start the car immediately as he turns to you with a frown.

You’d been really tired recently, and more so than when Natalya was born. Those first few months had been tough. You’d been sleep-deprived and as a result moodier than usual which wasn’t good for anyone. You’d wanted to drink more during this time than you had in the past 5 years, but you held off and tried to just find as much joy in having a young child at home as possible. Wanda had managed it a little better because she was able to take off work completely since she owned her restaurant, and she dedicated herself to her baby 24/7 for nearly 5 months. It wasn’t until recently that she started to talk about returning to work even if just part-time as Natalya got older.

Since your daughter had started sleeping a little longer at night, you’d recently had the luxury of sleeping through most nights. Despite having the nursery right down the hall, and enough baby monitors to start a store of your own, you’d been able to get more sleep recently now that Natalya’s gotten older.

So Bucky wasn’t sure what was going on with you. He hoped that you were just adjusting to everything still, or trying to figure out how to deal with the latest fire at work.

For the past 10 years, you’d been the head of one of Chicago’s oldest mobs. Your rise to power had been a treacherous one that included 2 assassination attempts, and multiple trips to the hospital as you tried to establish a name for yourself among a sea of misogynistic criminals. After being thrown to the wolves and proving your worth, you’d continued to build your wealth and reputation as you expanded your reach throughout the city. It had been the most difficult thing you’d ever done, and the stress alone had surely taken years off your life.

However, when you started drinking barely a few months into your reign, things became ugly quickly. You’d already learned to overcompensate for the fact that you were a woman by being more ruthless than your male counterparts. You’d killed too many people to count by the time you turned 23, and you’d turned to drinking and briefly drugs to deal with the stress and guilt that you brought upon yourself by staying with the mob.

You’d somehow made friends still, and they became loyal and eventually cared about you enough to try and help you beyond their loosely defined job requirements. You’d refused rehab and tried to handle things yourself, and that went about as poorly as it could have. You ended up in the hospital sick, and you’d eventually given up and started drinking again.

A few months later Pietro came to you asking for a job, and since you had a need for more employees and he looked strong enough you’d given him one. It wasn’t until you met his sister months later that you regretted this.

“Are you alright?”

You turn to Bucky in surprise, not realizing that you haven’t left yet as you drifted off. You shake your head before realizing what his question was, and quickly nodding instead.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m just tired…and hungry.”

Bucky smiles and accepts this answer for now as he starts the car up to get you home. You own a number of properties around the city that you’ve either been gifted or overtaken by force that you utilized on a daily basis. One of these included a modern high rise apartment building that you lived in with Wanda and your daughter. There were an obscene number of floors, 42 you think, and the very top is where your penthouse sits. You and Wanda moved there shortly after getting married, and it’s since been renovated and re-renovated before its final modification right before your baby arrived.

You had way too many rooms for any three people to use, and honestly a good number of them were for your dogs.

When you first met Wanda, you had two German Shepherds that had been given to you by a business partner. It was the first time someone had given you a living thing, well at least that you accepted, and you couldn’t help but be wary. They’d been puppies at the time and they were now both close to 10 and they spent most of their days lounging around the penthouse or very occasionally going to the exercise room you had built for them. Given the fact that you were so high up and dreaded the idea of taking your dogs out multiple times a day, you’d had the rooftop outfitted with an area where the dogs could do their business and have it cleaned regularly by someone else.

Most of the rooftop you’d kept for yourself and Wanda to enjoy whenever the urge struck. However, given how busy you were and the fact that Wanda spent every waking minute with your daughter, trips to the roof were going to be far and in-between for a while.

When Bucky leaves you to probably continue working for a bit, you step into the private elevator that will take you up to your home. You slouch against the wall as you watch yourself go up and up through the large window across from you. You’d flirted with the idea of making it completely glass, but you honestly weren’t a fan of heights. Usually you had someone to talk to and distract you from slight nausea or at least a phone in your hand so you could studiously ignore it. Today, you had neither because you couldn’t muster the energy to take out your phone, so you just stared blankly at the brief view of city lights and the darkening sky.

When the elevator dings signaling that you’ve finished your journey, you stand up straight and put on a smile for your wife who hopefully won’t be too upset with you.

“You’re late.”

You walk into your 6-bedroom 9-bath penthouse and immediately sigh in relief. You’re such an introvert that the mere act of walking into your house recharges your social battery, at least a little bit. You walk down the short hallway that leads to the kitchen and living room, and you’re not surprised to see your wife cooking in the kitchen while your brother-in-law’s in the living room with your daughter. You smile at the sight of them before you go to greet your wife first.

“I know, I’m sorry. I fell asleep.”

You don’t give Wanda much time to respond before you pull her in for a hug as you kiss her. You hear and ignore Pietro’s disgusted noise as you take a moment to look at your wife closely. She’s wearing comfortable clothing and her hair is thrown up into a ponytail as she cooks. Her face is bare of makeup, but she’s still the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. You kiss her cheek again before giving her one last squeeze as you look to the dinner she’s made.

“Thank you for making my favorite.”

Wanda’s gaze darts to where her brother’s holding her daughter up in the air while making strange noises before she looks to you with a small smile.

Wanda offers a slightly pained smile as you squeeze her tightly, but you’re quick to notice and can’t help but frown. You loosen your hold on her before looking for any obvious injury that you might have missed.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s fine. I’m just a little sore.”

You frown before humming in understanding. Wanda had just stopped breastfeeding a little while ago, and despite starting Natalya on formula and somewhat solid food at this point, she still hadn’t dried up. You’ve read a lot about it and Wanda’s spoken with her doctor, but it sounds like it could be a while before she stops producing and therefore stops being so sore. They were told that if it’s longer than a week, she could be started on some medication to stop it.

“I’m sorry, love. Is there anything I can do?”

Wanda smiles at you but mutters a ‘later’ under her breath as she looks back to her brother. You nod with a smirk before you kiss her cheek once more as you head to the living room to greet the rest of your family.

“Hi there, Little Nat. How was your day?”

Despite not spewing more than a few short sounds that vaguely resemble words, you still talk to your daughter as if she understands you. It’s hard not to when you talk to your dogs the same way, but apparently it was encouraged. Pietro lowers your baby so you can take her into your arms and kiss her forehead. You smile wider when she laughs happily as you squish her belly and start to tickle her. You bounce her on your lap, content to just hold her as you turn to your brother-in-law.

“Pietro. I hope she was good for you today.”

Pietro Maximoff, your wife’s twin, was the one you’d met first all those years ago. He’d been desperate for money, and a little reckless but you’d seen potential in him. You’d had him assigned as your security detail to see what he was capable of, but he never got beyond that. Despite liking him well enough and trusting him to be loyal, you’d quickly decided that he wasn’t going to be working for you once you met his sister.

You remember that night like it had happened just the other day. You’d been ridiculously stressed about a deal that was falling through, and you’d had plans to blow off some steam. You’d called on Pietro because he was going to escort you to the party, but once you realized that he’d been followed you had a change of heart.

You still occasionally apologized to Wanda for trying to shoot her at your first meeting, but you both know that this night changed your lives for the better. You’d immediately been drawn to her and in a few short weeks you were dating, and Pietro was fired.

He held it against you for a while, but at this point you were pretty sure he was glad to be out of the mob. He certainly saw the hours you worked and how it drained the life from you, but he was your brother-in-law, and he made it his job to give you a hard time every now and then.

“She was an angel. Even as she threw her grapes around.”

You sigh at the thought of this and how Nat’s not been doing a great job during her transition to solid food. Well, she was doing fine you supposed since she was eating more than she was throwing, but it was more of a game right now to her and she mostly drank her formula and picked at the fruits and vegetables she liked. Apparently, grapes were not on that list. You nod before asking the follow up question that you are reminded of as you hear the sounds of dog collars clinking down the hall.

“Did any of the fur creatures clean up after her?”

Pietro just laughs before he shakes his head and looks to the new arrivals that finally realized you were home. You smile at the two in front, your jack Russell mixes who hurry over to you with little yips. You reach out to pet their scruffy coats before kissing their heads as they jump up on you.

“Hello Rudy. Milo. How are you?”

The duo just pants happily before sniffing Nat and walking away. They aren’t super interested in her which is good and bad, but you’ll just have to keep a close eye on them like the vet and pediatrician said. The next dogs that come up are your two old shepherds that you swear are walking slower every day. You smile lovingly at them before you silently ask Pietro to take your daughter so you can greet the larger dogs.

Boone and Rogue were your 10-year-olds who you’d had since they were barely a pound. You loved them dearly and watching them grow older broke your heart. You remember the days where they’d follow you around as you worked, intimidating people and keeping you company. They’d saved your ass a few times when you were outnumbered and having to retire them a couple of years ago felt like the end of an era. You didn’t replace them because you didn’t need to at this point, but you made sure that they would be comfortable and happy staying in the penthouse for the rest of their days.

They had access to almost all of the rooms and they could go out on the roof whenever they wanted to sun, but most of the time they just slept. You scratch the pair and kiss both of their heads with a sigh. You let them greet their human sibling with a sniff or two before you get to your feet with a groan.

“Dinner time?”

You meant for you, but you felt bad when the dogs perked up excitedly at the prospect of food. After confirming that Wanda had taken care of feeding them, you only give them a little extra before setting the table and helping Wanda finish up in the kitchen. You can tell that she’s tired which isn’t new, but she’s also being quieter than you’re used to. You worry that something’s on her mind, and she just doesn’t want to talk about it with her brother here.

You of course insist he stays for dinner because he’s already here and he does so much for the two of you. Since Nat was born, he’d stopped working and was around for whatever was needed. He helped his sister take care of Little Nat while you were at work, and when your wife had run by the restaurant to check in, he’d stay to supervise. You wondered if he’d stay here full-time once Wanda went back to work, but that was something you could figure out later.

“I went by the restaurant today.”

You look up from your plate as Wanda says this and you smile when you see how happy she looks. She loved that place and you swore that as soon as she was old enough, Natalya was going to learn to cook there. It would become her new home away from home if Wanda had anything to say about it. As exciting as this sounds, for now, you focus on the present as Wanda tells you about how everyone is doing in her absence.

“Stella says that the new kids are doing well, and there haven’t been any fires since that first time.”

You smile at this for two reasons. One because when Wanda says ‘kids’, she really means anyone younger than her. The brunette isn’t anywhere close to old, but you swear that once she passed 30, she just started calling anyone younger than her ‘kids’. The two 21- and 24-year-olds that she’s talking about were hired just before she went on maternity leave. They were going to help in the kitchen and Wanda had taken a week to run them through all of the items on the menu until they knew how to make each one. They’d done a fantastic job and Wanda was going to keep them on even as she slowly started working again.

You’re glad to hear that she’s happy with how things are going at the restaurant and you’re about to say this when Pietro speaks up. You look to where he’s trying to feed Nat with a spoon, but she’s more interested in looking at what’s on the floor around her high chair.

“And how’s Bridget doing?”

Both you and your wife roll your eyes in unison at the predictable question. Pietro, despite being freer than either of them, hasn’t made an appearance at the restaurant for a while. He’d had a slightly awkward breakup with one of the hostesses that worked there and he’d been avoiding it like the plague. Wanda was annoyed because she’d warned him not to get involved with someone she worked with, but he hadn’t listened. He’d found it difficult to say no to this redhead’s…charms.

“I was very nice to her sestra. Just ask.”

“She wasn’t there today, and even if she was, I wouldn’t tell you. You weren’t very nice to her.”

You just watch in amusement as you wife chastises her brother about his failed relationship. It had honestly ended amicably, but it hadn’t lasted long because Pietro hadn’t been looking for something serious, and Bridget had wanted to settle down. Luckily, work wasn’t awkward for anyone and it only got a little dicey if Pietro showed up and tried to show off in one way or another.

The two start to argue in their native language and you just smiled as you picked up bits and pieces of it. Wanda wasn’t being very complimentary of her brother, and if you weren’t mistaken Pietro was being lewd. As usual. You sigh as you abandon your mostly finished dinner and get up so you can try and feed your daughter. Pietro’s mostly given up at this point, but you sit down beside her with a smile before picking up a clean spoon.

“Hi little one. This food tastes better than what’s on the ground. I promise.”

You scoop a little spoonful of it out of the bowl and hold it up to Natalya. She looks at you with a smile, but makes no move to try to eat, so you move to another tactic. You start to move the spoon around in an aimless pattern, pretending like you’re flying a plane and although it gets your daughter’s attention she’s still not interested in eating. You eventually give up and boop her on the nose before reaching out to try and clean her shirt. You’ll never admit this out loud, but she reminds you of yourself when she eats. She’s so enthusiastic that she sometimes gets more of it on her than in her mouth. At least she has the excuse of being a baby. You’re just guilty of being overzealous.

You don’t realize that the twins are done arguing and have switched to watching you try to tempt Nat into eating. After cleaning up the mess Nat made, you move her food aside before handing her one of her toys that was out of reach. You let her chew on it because it was sanitized right before dinner and you smile as she laughs happily between gumming the rubber ring.

“You’re such a cutie.”

You’re back in your seat and intent on finishing dinner when you realize that Wanda and Pietro are just watching you. You shoot them curious looks but Wanda just smiles before she takes a sip of her water with a shake of her head.

“Nothing, detka. You two are just cute.”

You sigh inaudibly at this but don’t argue even when Pietro looks at you with a smug smile. You focus on finishing your dinner as conversation about the restaurant continues. Pietro is the one who asks if Wanda will be returning soon, and she says that over the next two weeks she plans to go in a couple more times. You two had briefly talked about this but you hadn’t realized she’d made a decision until now. You’re glad that she’s not trying to rush things because although you know that she loves her work, you selfishly want her hidden away in the safety of your home.

While Wanda’s been with you, both before and after getting married, there are only been a few instances when someone has tried to come after her. It was on days where you were out late working, or you had a sudden change of plans. They hadn’t gotten too close either time, but even someone stalking Wanda was too close for you. These incidents are partially why you’d moved here and tried to make it as secure as possible. You knew short of building yourself and fortress that you demanded she stay in 24/7, there was no way to guarantee her safety. You just did your best by putting your best people by her side and making sure that you had multiple ways of tracking and communicating with her if necessary.

Your wife was very tolerant of all of this because she’d seen first-hand what happens to people who try to hurt someone you love. Although she knows it’s necessary to keep her safe, she wants to do everything she can to spare you from having to kill someone. It’s one of the many downsides of your job, and probably her least favorite, but asserting your authority by eliminating threats is something that you have to do often. She never wants to know how much time you spend a day torturing or killing people, but she can always tell when you come home at night how difficult your day was.

Whether you don’t bother to take off your jacket and shoes, or you look like you’d seen a ghost, she can tell that your work had been particularly rough on you.

She wonders how long you’ll want to do this, and if you have a backup plan for your next chapter. She knows that 10 years is a long time to be in something, and you can’t just leave it. Even if it was something else, like a desk job, she’s sure you’d have to plan your next step and take some time before making any changes. She’s not naïve enough to think that even if you wanted to leave, if you decided to, it would be easy. She’d seen you as you tried to take a step back from it all while she was trying to get pregnant. It had taken a toll on you and she still sometimes sees that you’re facing the backlash of your difficult decisions.

As much as she wanted to have this baby with you, she didn’t want the decision to make things more difficult for you.

Her desire to make your life as easy as possible is why she’s only going to go to the restaurant occasionally for the next month before steadily increasing her shifts until she’s working full time again. She knows that Pietro would be willing to watch Natalya until she was old enough for school, but she wanted him to go back to work too if he wanted it.

He’d started working with your friend Tony a few years ago, and despite not understanding the ins and outs of the technology he worked with, he enjoyed learning and getting to spend time with someone who was more similar to him than a 6-month-old was. This was a conversation for later though because as dinner finished up, Wanda realizes that you’re fading fast. You’d had a long day and you could probably sleep right now, despite your nap earlier. After exchanging a look with her brother, Wanda gets up and starts to clear the table.

“Oh no, wait. I’ll do it.”

The rule is that whoever cooks doesn’t clean, and this is something that you’ve stuck to even on your worst days. You actually didn’t mind cleaning because it was a very mindless, almost cathartic activity. Wanda smiles at you before she takes the stack of plates she has toward the kitchen.

“I know, I’m just bringing them to the kitchen for you while you get Natalya’s dishes.”

You obediently stand up and stack the tiny bowls and spoons before grabbing your daughter with your free hand. You hold her on your hip as you lead her to the kitchen to see the mess that you get to clean.

“Look Nat! Look at all the food, Mommy made. She’s going to teach you how to cook this as soon as you can hold your own spoon.”

Wanda rolls her eyes as she sets the dishes down by the sink, but she doesn’t deny it as she swoops in and steals her daughter. You smile and watch as she takes the baby into the living room. She leaves you to your dishes and Pietro returns from letting the dogs back in now that dinner’s over before settling on the couch.

“Come here, milaya. Let’s go play.”

You’re putting the last few dishes in the dishwasher when your phone rings from where you left it on the counter. You jump slightly at the jarring sound and you sigh as you dry your hands off before reaching for it. You don’t notice Wanda’s frown or Pietro’s look as you answer Bucky’s call with a sigh.

“Hey, Bucky. What’s up?”

You close the dishwasher and set the two pots that Wanda used aside to dry as you hold your phone to your ear. You listen to your friend tell you about what you’re hoping doesn’t ruin the rest of your night. Right before leaving ‘the office’ you’d made sure that everything was set for the hit that you had planned tonight against yet another politician that was trying to interfere with your business. He was trying to get legislation passed that would crack down on drugs in the city, and not only could that potentially ruin you but it would drive the prices of everything through the roof. You didn’t want to deal with that and you honestly didn’t mind taking this route to get ahead of the problem. When reading about the target you’d found that he wasn’t the most upstanding guy, and very few people except maybe his mistress and their kid would miss him.

“What do you mean he can’t make it? Did he double book himself?”

You try to keep your voice down and your anger under wraps as Bucky tells you about the flaky hitman you’d talked to about an hour ago. Apparently, he wasn’t available anymore and not only did that make him the newest addition to your list, but it left you in an awkward position. You weren’t sure who you could find to take his place so last minute. Glancing at the clock on the oven you realize that it was less than an hour before the hit was supposed to take place. You groan under your breath as you consider your options before you ask Bucky what he’d do.

Bucky has been your friend for a long time and you’d worked together for almost the entire time. You know that he always has a plan D while you occasionally get stuck on plan C. In this case, you want to hear what he thinks the best course of action is for this. You’d already had everything in place. His $300k, his spot on the guest list, and a getaway car were all waiting for him. Now, he’d be lucky if he sees tomorrow.

“What do you think, Bucky?”

You wait as your friend tells you exactly what you’d been thinking, but been reluctant to agree to. Not only was it risky, but it was going to cost you a lot more money that you didn’t currently have to throw around. You’d have to talk to Yelena to see if she could move her collection day up to tomorrow instead of later this week. That said, you didn’t expect to be able to cover this bill with that alone. You resist the urge to knock something off the counter top as Bucky gives you the bad news.

“Nat could do it, but you know her fee and I think she’s busy with a deal of her own at the moment.”

You head over to the fridge to look for something you know you won’t find before you take a deep breath. You know Nat is busy, she’s working on getting you drugs that you’d been promised last week. You couldn’t take her from that right now, not if you wanted to pay your employees on time. You reach for the leftover cake from Natalya’s half-year birthday and set it on the counter. You make the mistake of glancing up to see if your wife and Pietro were paying attention to you.

They’re watching you with very different expressions that make you feel equally ashamed and frustrated. Pietro’s eyeing you suspiciously because even after everything you’d done to get better, to prove to him and yourself that you’re doing better, he can’t completely trust you. You suppose you can’t blame him. You want to credit his reluctance to his brotherly duty to keep Wanda’s best interests in mind. He doesn’t want her hurt again, especially now that you have Natalya to take care of, and you don’t think he’ll ever forget how much you hurt her.

Whether intentional or not, a lot of the first year of your relationship had been hell for Wanda. You’d still been drinking and you had no control over your temper. You’d been acting so impulsively and recklessly for years that it had been difficult to just shut it off because of Wanda’s presence in your life. She’d suffered the consequences of your late nights, your random disappearances and your benders, but she’d still stayed. A lot had to happen for her to stick with you, but she did it and the idea of putting her through anything like that again wasn’t acceptable to Pietro in the least.

Wanda watches you with a worried frown as she tries to keep her baby from squirming in her arms. She knows it’s a work call because no one else would reach out at this time, and seeing how you tense and sound angry almost immediately, she realizes this isn’t good news. She waits to see what you decide and she would be lying if she said she’s not saying a little prayer that you don’t leave her tonight to do who knows what.

“She can’t miss that; we need the money.”

You bite your lip as you consider plan C. It’s not great, and you hate that you’re even considering it, but you’re running low on time. You grab a fork and start to eat the cake in front of you mindlessly. You’re not even hungry, but you need to do something with your hands that isn’t punching a hole in the wall.

“What about Steve?”

Steve had been part of your security detail early on because of a few reasons. The first was his experience. He’d been in the military before coming to Chicago, and he was a real asset that you’d been grateful to have. You’d met him and Bucky at the same time, and despite his intimidating stature, he was a kind and dependable friend that you trusted with your life. The other reason he was with you was because he was a crack shot. On the rare occasion that he wasn’t busy or watching over your wife which was the primary task you’d given him, he would help you with loose ends. If the situation called for it, much like tonight’s did, he’d off someone for you. He did it for free even if you ended up paying him anyway for his trouble, but he was one of the most efficient people in your employ.

The only issue with having him do something like this for you was that he was easily recognized at this point. Despite his best efforts and yours to keep him incognito, it was impossible for him to go completely undetected, and people knew what he looked like now. He was recognized by many, and only kept out of jail because of a deal you had with a corrupt judge. You’d negotiated his freedom upon certain terms, and these included not letting him commit crimes, especially murder.

You don’t know what to do. Short of going after Jacobs yourself, you aren’t sure who you can ask to infiltrate the party that starts in 20 minutes and get in and out without being caught.

Bucky is on the same page as you and he sighs deeply as he decides on what to do. He had a couple of things he needed to finish up tonight, but those could wait for a bit. He was privy to the original plan and he was less recognizable than Steve, so he could give it a shot.

“I’ll do it.”

You’re shaking your head as you drop your fork and give up trying to distract yourself. You walk out of the kitchen without a word and step into the closest room with a door. You take a deep breath as you look into the mirror in front of you and cringe at your appearance. You look like shit which is honestly not a surprise considering how shitty you feel. You’re tired, anxious, and now sick to your stomach as you realize what you have to do. You’re not going to let Bucky off the hook completely, but you don’t want him going after Jacobs tonight. It’s not worth the risk, and you’d like to know more about why this happened in the first place. It couldn’t be because someone was so bold that they thought they could change their minds and refuse you. The mere thought makes you want to scream, but you just take another deep breath before finally responding.

“No, Buck. We’ll just wait on it. For now, I’d like you to find Logan for me and keep him somewhere safe until I can see him. I have a few questions.”

Bucky agrees to have this done by morning and you hang up with a disappointed sigh. This is just not your day.

“Y/n, are you okay in there?”

You turn at the sound of your wife’s voice and you nearly curse yourself again for being so broody. You are certain she’s a little on edge because she always is when it comes to your business. She hated when you brought work home, honestly you both did, but sometimes you couldn’t help it. The last time it happened you’d had to leave in the wee hours and not only did Wanda hate having you leave her, but she knew that whatever got you out of bed at this time wasn’t anything good. She’d learned during your time together that delegation was a double-edged sword. It freed you up to do other more important things, like be home with her while staying out of danger, but it also made your anxiety near unbearable depending on what the problem was.

Wanda had learned how to help you manage this through the years of therapy you’d had. She’d helped you avoid replacing one bad habit with another, and encouraging you to focus on something positive is what she was attempting to do now.

You open the door to the bathroom to see Wanda standing there with Nat in her arms. Your daughter was smiling widely as she swatted Wanda’s hair with her grabby hands. You couldn’t help but smile and you reached out for her with a sigh. You kissed her face a few times until she giggled before turning your attention to your wife with a shake of your head.

“No everything’s going to hell, but it will work itself out.”

Wanda is surprised by how relaxed you sound, or rather resigned. She would have thought you’d start cursing and threaten to murder someone, but instead the majority of your focus is on your daughter who despite enjoying herself is starting to get sleepy. You kiss her forehead one more time before you start heading for her bedroom.

“Is it bedtime little one?”

Wanda follows behind you as you head back through the living room to get to Natalya’s nursery. Pietro’s still sitting in the living room but when he sees you, he stands up before looking to his sister. You don’t bother worrying about what they’re deciding as you stop just long enough to see what your brother-in-law’s plans are.

“Thank you again for today. I’m going to put this one to bed.”

Pietro only hesitates for a second before Wanda nods and he decides that he can leave. He, just like Bucky and Steve, lives on the floor just beneath them so they’re nearby if needed. Not to mention they live rent free. Pietro hugs his sister before telling her to call her if she needs anything before he leaves for his own apartment. He’ll be back tomorrow depending on if his sister goes to work, but for now he can tell she’s only worried about her wife.

“What story do you want to read tonight, Little Nat?”

Although she’s too young to understand what you’ll read, just the act of talking to her is good practice for her later months. You also like to tell yourself that hearing your voice will help her recognize you even if you’re gone often. You feel bad that you’re not very present, but you’re trying to do better, and you’ll be damned if you’re here for a bedtime and you don’t tell Nat a story.

You set her down and give her a moment to settle in her crib before you start to look through her books. They’re mostly picked out for when she’s older, closer to 1.5 or 2 years old, but you love these stories and want your daughter to know them. You start to grab the Yertle the Turtle book when Wanda steps in and sits beside you with a smile.

“You read that one two nights ago, detka. I think she’ll have it memorized soon.”

You smile widely at the thought and you go to open the book anyway before you look to your wife with a thoughtful hum.

“What would you have me read instead, Wands? Maybe the scary wolf book, or the sad fish who lost his scales?”

Wanda knows you like those books, but she forgoes the ‘traumatic’ books for one that might be your all-time favorite. She skims the bookshelf before finding it in the exact same place as last time. She pulls it out and hands it to you with a shrug.

“What about the one with all of the colorful animals.”

You can’t help but look interested in this one and you only hesitate for a second before exchanging your book for Wanda’s. You kiss her briefly in thanks before clearing your throat and opening the book. It isn’t until you check to see if your daughter is paying attention, that you realize that she’s already asleep. You chuckle under your breath before you close the book and set it aside with a sigh.

“Maybe tomorrow then.”

Wanda follows you to your bedroom once you make sure that Nat is truly asleep and good for you to leave alone. You make sure that your dogs are in their section of the penthouse before leading your tired wife to the bedroom. You know you’re going to have to talk about Bucky’s phone call, but for now you’d like to jump in the shower and rid yourself of today. When Wanda realizes what your intentions are she takes the baby monitor on the bedside table and holds it as you get changed.

“Would you like some company?”

Wanda rarely needs to ask, but you nod regardless as you shed your clothes and head into the bathroom with your wife on your heels. You let her get the monitor situated while you start the shower and get the hot water running. You sigh before you make sure that your wife is all set before reaching out for her. She shoots you a confused look, but you just bend slightly at the waist before asking dramatically.

“All ready, milady?”

Wanda rolls her eyes, but she takes your offered hand and lets you lead her into the shower. You adjust the water when you realize it’s too hot before letting Wanda lead the way and shutting the door behind her. You sigh in relief as the hot water sprays your sore muscles, and you shift slightly so you’re completely under the shower head. You open your eyes to see Wanda’s watching you as she reaches for the body wash, and you smile in anticipation as you hold out your hands.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

The brunette smiles as you start to lather her arms before carefully moving to her sore breasts. She groans before nodding slightly as she runs a hand through her wet hair with a smile. She hinted earlier that a massage might help, but she’d actually started earlier when you were on the phone and you can’t help but laugh at the image.

“I’m sure Pietro loved that.”

She slaps you playfully before emptying more of the sweet-smelling wash into her own hands so she can start to clean you up. She can tell you’re incredibly tense, and she wants to try and remedy this now if you’ll let her.

“He studiously ignored me and focused on Natalya.”

You smile widely at the thought of Pietro being such a good brother. You sigh once again as Wanda starts to squeeze your biceps as she runs her hands down your arms. You let your eyes fall closed as you let Wanda work her magic. You relax quickly and you have to remember to keep yourself standing upright as you feel the urge to lie down overtake you. Wanda has given you dozens of massages over the years, and it really was the only thing that could calm you down when you were stressed. Well, the only thing you were allowed to have. However, you realize that unfortunately as you get clean and calmer by the minute, this leaves you unprepared for what your wife asks you next.

“What did Bucky tell you earlier?”

You hesitate to answer and you contemplate pretending like you didn’t hear her, but the gentle squeeze she gives your side when a few seconds have passed in silence make this option less appealing. You sigh heavily as you think about your call with Bucky and how this was going to be a pain in the ass to replan. You don’t want to worry about this now. You just want to enjoy your time with your wife, but Wanda is asking you for something. You open your eyes and look down slightly at your wife who’s shooting you a curious look. You can tell that she’s worried and you feel badly about this, but there’s not much you can do about that other than reassure her that everything is fine. At least it’s not worse than it usual is.

“Something I had planned fell through and it’s going to be a bitch to reschedule.”

This was the most detail you would give Wanda, and you knew that she preferred it that way. She’d learned the extent of what you did only hours after meeting you. She remembers Google searching you and learning about all of the atrocities you’d committed and being afraid for her brother. He’d been working with you at the time, and she had correctly concluded that being anywhere near you put a target on him that Wanda was not happy about.

Once you started to care about what Wanda wanted, you made sure to fix this by firing him. He’d been mad at you, but making Wanda happy had overshadowed this and paved the way for you two to start dating.

Now not much has changed since Wanda first learned about what you did. The basics were the same. It was illegal and dangerous both physically and financially. You gambled a lot given how you trusted numerous people to do jobs for you, and sometimes they disappointed and you lost out. When things like that happened it was usually money you lost, but tonight you’d probably lost more than that depending on how successful Bucky ends up being.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s the only thing that Wanda can really say in response. She doesn’t ask for details. She certainly doesn’t want to know who you’d planned on killing tonight, so she offers you the only consolation she can. Once you’re both clean, you head back into the bedroom wrapped in towels as you look for your change of clothes. Wanda throws on a long t-shirt and you find a pair of shorts and a t-shirt before you slide under the covers.

“I’m so ready to sleep.”

You practically moan as you lie down on your very comfortable mattress and wait patiently for your wife to join you. As you look up at her, your gaze travels down to where her shirt stops mid-thigh and you can’t help but smile as you reach out to touch. Wanda settles on the bed before grabbing your hands to kiss them with a sigh. She lies down facing you and she looks you over carefully. The circles under your eyes are darker than usual and she can see your stress lines are more prominent as well. She can’t help herself and she squeezes your hands where she holds them to her chest with a sigh.

“How are you really feeling, detka?”

You expected this question much earlier, so you’re ready for it now even though you’re seconds away from sleep. You aren’t; however, prepared to see how softly Wanda’s looking at you. She’s only inches away from you and despite considering that she might think you’re buying your time, you lean forward and meet her lips for a kiss. She doesn’t respond immediately, but she doesn’t pull away so you take that as a win. You continue to kiss your wife, and your hands roam her body as you think about how to answer her.

You’re feeling as stressed as usual, but despite tonight’s hiccup you don’t think your mood is anything to worry about. You take your antidepressants and you do your best to focus on the good things in your life, like your family and friends, when you feel like lashing out at someone. You only crave a drink a couple times a week, but it’s manageable and you are still avoiding bars as much as possible.

You realize that this sounds way too rehearsed, but it honestly is just how you feel. You’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to relax with the job you have, and surely that’s a reason to rethink your occupation. You have a wife, and a child, you should be able to enjoy your time with them without having your mob responsibilities looming overhead.

You had to go to one last week to meet a client, and despite the fact that you just got water your nerves about this particular deal made watching him drink his Manhattan near unbearable. You’d gone home and immediately cuddled with your daughter, and if Wanda picked up on your weird behavior, she didn’t comment on it. She also didn’t comment on how you practically dragged her into bed later.

“Stress is a constant, but it’s not overwhelming.”

Wanda eventually just nods before she leans in to kiss you this time. You smile against her lips before you run your hands up under her shirt to graze her ribs. The resulting gasp makes you scoot even closer to your wife so you can tangle your legs with hers.

“I’m glad it’s not overwhelming you.”

You nod when Wanda says this and you mutter something in agreement, but your main focus is on your wife’s breasts. You are careful because she told you earlier that they were sore, but you can’t help but want to get your hands on them. Seeing how Wanda’s body changed was one of your favorite parts of her pregnancy. You’d been called a teenage boy for admitting it, but watching Wanda swell as your child grew in her made you insatiable. When the first trimester filled with sickness, cravings and poor sleep ended, you’d spent all your free time with your wife and a lot of it had been in bed. You think back on these times fondly, but you quickly return your focus to the present when your wife’s voice registers.

“Mhmm, it is.”

Wanda hisses and arches toward you slightly as you squeeze her breasts before slotting your leg between her thighs. You peek under the covers as you continue to push up your wife’s shirt and you can’t help but smile at what you see. You don’t think you’ll ever stop believing that your wife is the most beautiful woman in the world. As she lays beside you flushed and needy, you can’t help but want to spend hours appreciating the wonderful woman who gave you a beautiful, albeit sometimes exhausting daughter.

“You’re beautiful, Wands.”

You can’t help but smile as you break away from Wanda’s lips to kiss her neck. You feel her pulse quicken as you tease her heated skin with your teeth, and her grip on your arm tightens as she releases a breathy curse.

“Fuck, Y/n. You should really sleep.”

It came out as a question rather than a suggestion, but you still shake your head as you roll over so you’re hovering over your wife. She gasps again and you smile down at her as you carefully position yourself on top of her without moving your hands from her heaving chest.

“I feel great, Wands. Will you let me help you feel good?”

While that does sound appealing and the feeling of your hands on her sore breasts make her want to buck her hips, she’s hyperaware of your attention and it’s making her self-conscious. She knows that she’ll never have her pre-pregnancy body again. She’ll never be slim with a body free of stretch marks, and despite your insistence that she’s still perfect; that you don’t care about that, sometimes the voice in her head is louder than yours.

You know her well, and you can sense that her hesitation is due to her insecurity. It also helps that Wanda’s becomes tense beneath you as she squirms uncomfortably and you have to keep yourself from sighing in disappointment. Instead, you lean over to kiss your wife gently before your hands start to drift down her sides. She jumps slightly as you expected, but they keep wandering until they fall to her hips.

“I know I can say it until you’re sick of hearing me talk, but I love you so much. Do you know that?”

Wanda shifts to help you push her shirt up and off despite wanting to stay hidden. She curses when she feels lips against her breasts, and you wait until you feel her relax a little before moving down to her stomach.

“Well, I do, Wands. I love everything about you.”

Your hands squeeze her hips before you press a kiss against your wife’s tummy rolls. She’d lost most of the weight she’d been carrying with Natalya already, but she still had a little left that she’s not sure she’ll ever shed. Given how busy she is with Natalya and how exhausted she feels by the end of the day, there’s not time for any exercise. She doesn’t count running around while she takes care of her daughter, or the work out you occasionally give her in the bedroom.

Tonight’s not going to be one of those nights though because she can already tell by how tenderly you’re kissing her stretch marks, that you’re just trying to make her feel better. She feels herself relax under your touch, and after a few minutes she releases a tired sigh, and with it some of her anxieties. She reaches down to bury her hands in your hair with a smile. You look up at her from where you’ve rested your head with a smile.

“Thank you, detka. I feel better already.”

You smile wider before reaching for one of Wanda’s hands and kissing it with a questioning look. You’re nearly falling asleep as your muscles continue to ache in protest of your continued consciousness. You need to go to bed soon since you have an early morning, but you need to make sure your wife’s feeling better first. You hate that you may have stressed her out, and you want to fix it if at all possible.

“I’m glad to hear it, but is there anything else I can do to help you relax?”

Wanda smirks at you as she runs her hands through your hair carefully. You haven’t put it up yet, and she loves seeing it unkempt and wild like you are. She can see you’re fading but you’re watching her carefully and she knows that doing anything but telling you the truth will get her in trouble. She sighs as she shifts so she’s more comfortable against her pillow. Wanda meets your gaze with a teasing look that immediately makes you perk up. You’re never one to back down from a challenge.

“You can either hurry up and finish what you started, or you can come up here so we can sleep.”

You smile widely as you move up your wife’s body to kiss her deeply. She moans against your lips and is just short of pushing you away from her when you break the kiss with a sigh. You slide back down the bed before moving to sit between Wanda’s legs. You move so you’re where you need to be before teasing her with your fingers along her inner thighs.

“I’ll make it quick, baby.”

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #wanda x you #yelena belova #natasha romanoff #pietro maximoff #the flip side #mob au

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sashaisready · 5 months

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Chapter Two - No big deal

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

Series Masterlist

Chapter Three Warnings: References to being followed without consent/stalking

Later as you lock up and walk home, you couldn't help but replay the events of the day in your head once more.

Wanda had loudly squealed once they'd gone, not only was terrifying mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes in your bakery but you had stood up to him! Told him off, even!! And he'd TIPPED you a hundred dollar bill for it. What a badass! She'd jumped on the phone to her boyfriend Vis to recount (and maybe embellish) the entire shocking tale.

But you didn't feel like a badass. You felt scared, surprised by your boldness. What were you thinking?? Talking to a mob boss like that? You always got carried away when people riled you up, your big mouth getting you in trouble. It had been a problem your whole life, starting from when you'd stand up to bullies twice your size in the playground as a kid, often getting knocked on your ass in the process.

You'd held the money up to the light thinking it was a forgery, but Wanda reminded you that Barnes wasn't living on the breadline. Rumour has it he lived in a fancy townhouse with gates so high you couldn't see over them. He must be worth millions.

You insisted on splitting the money with Wanda but she had point blank refused, demanding that you keep every penny as you earned it by sticking up for her. You'd begrudgingly agreed after she eventually wore you down, but made a mental note to use at least part of it to buy a gift for her.

The money burned a hole in your pocket as you walked home. It felt like dirty money, as if accepting it had somehow welcomed Barnes and his world into the bakery. Yes he'd spent money on baked goods too, but it wasn't the same thing as a cash tip. Hush money essentially, after one of his goons had hassled your staff.

You didn't particularly want mobsters in the bakery, either. You hoped they weren't going to make a habit of it. You didn't want them scaring the other customers, or making veiled threats like his little protection gag. This was the first time you had ever hoped a customer didn't like your baking...

But still. It was definitely a bit excitement for a Tuesday afternoon wasn't it?

It was.

And there was something about Mr. Barnes.

You'd felt a thrill rip through you as you stared him down, going toe to toe with him. You'd never admit it to Wanda, Hell you could barely admit it to yourself...but when he'd glared at you there had been a tingle between your thighs, in spite of your fear.

You sighed deeply, shaking that train of thought off as you began to walk faster.

And there, across the street but unseen by you, a black SUV slowly crawled in your direction.

Bucky was pleasantly surprised by how good the cakes were at Pepper's Bakery, sneaking the last chunk of blondie into his mouth as he absent-mindedly glanced over some paperwork.

His attention was captivated by the spirited Baker who had stood up to him earlier. He'd thought you were cute when he'd walked in, dressed in overalls with a tiny smudge of flour on your chin. You'd smiled at them warmly when they'd arrived, treating them all sweetly rather than quivering in fear like so many others do. He liked your smile, he was drawn to the sparkle in your eyes. You weren't his 'usual type' by any means, but he was interested in you all the same.

He couldn't resist teasing you, his childish go-to when it came to women he was attracted to. He didn't like to appear vulnerable even for a moment in any scenario - and that included flirting with girls if there was a chance they could reject him. So he stuck with teasing and baiting, the perfect way to have a bit of fun without showing his hand. He only allowed himself to flirt properly when the girl was already eating out of the palm of his hand. Besides, he always enjoyed a bit of back and forth. Getting women riled up and angry at him. It was a type of foreplay for him.

But you held your own, not entertaining the idea of him getting the upper hand in any way. You gave as good as you got it, shutting him down, and that had impressed him.

He was only teasing you about protection. He wouldn't do that. Besides, he was courting Stark as a potential partner and he didn't need a business degree to know that threatening Stark's wife's employees was likely to put a dampener on their deal.

And then you'd told off Thor, standing up for your colleague like a proud mama bear. You weren't frightened of any of them.

At first he thought you didn't know who he was. Maybe that's why you weren't afraid to speak up. But you did. You knew full well. But you didn't care who he was, you had no patience for Thor's antics and made that very clear.

You had told him you expected respect in your establishment, and that you had only been respectful to them. You were right, that was reasonable. It was your turf. You had been good to them. Bucky understood the importance of respect. Thor needed to be reined in, often running his mouth with women at the worst possible times. Bucky had even intervened before. He was impressed that someone else had stepped in. That you had stepped in.

He'd arranged a few of his men to keep an eye on you. Nothing sinister. Just see what your routine looked like. Learn a bit more about you. He already knew your full name of course. Your age. Your address. He had told Steve to get all that the moment they'd left the bakery. It's no big deal. He just likes to know as much as he can about the people he deals with. He's an important man after all, he can't be caught off guard.

#mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #Sweet and sour fic

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sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee · 6 months

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Halloween HCS - Rogues Party

Alright everybody it's that time of year. My personal favorite time of year, the spooky season. So what better way to celebrate than to write Halloween headcanons for all the rogues? Going for general plus what they're doing this year specifically. Also surprise, I've added Music Meister (Clarence Rinette fan name is from @itsmalachitenow)

TW: spooky shit, murder, gore

Riddler

Thinks himself the belle of the ball, so to speak. Decked out in full elaborate costume. He has a ridiculous budget for this. Sometimes he stays in and gives out candy, but normally, he either wants to set a huge heist or go out to party. He needs to peacock every once in a while, or emotionally he'll start to wither. Matching costumes with his s/o are a must ;)

This year, he's assisting Jonathan in his haunted house venture (discussed below). The moment Jonathan announced to the dork squad what he'd be doing, all of them teamed up in their own ways to assist in making a horrific Halloween experience for the people of Gotham. Edward put himself in charge of animatronics and robotics.

The theme ended up being a literal haunted house, the entire building one giant horror maze save for several control rooms and employee areas- Which means a lot of hidden hydraulics in the walls and moving pieces Edward gets to crack his knuckles and puts together. He even rigs a set-up for an actor to fly across a room in ghostly pallor.

His pièce de résistance, however, is the start of the maze in the Library that has a hidden passageway that opens to the inside walls of the house. That plus some spooky elevators that transport guests to different levels- Jonathan couldn't have asked for better technical aspects.

The whole night he's hanging out in the control room, cackling when one of his devices gets someone. There will be parties on other nights he'll go to. He wouldn't miss this for the world.

Penguin

When he was younger he disliked Halloween because of bullying. That his face was horrific enough to scare anyone. It killed the fantasy and fun of wearing a costume. Even as his mother kissed his forehead and asked why he wasn't going out with friends-

Now he quite enjoys it. He doesn't really dress up per say, but there's always some fun parties to go to. Have some drinks, mingle, make some connections for the next big crime he's planning, then pass out in a pile of Halloween candy wrappers on his fancy chaise lounge. He'll do his best to save you your favorite if you tell him.

Now, if his s/o wants to dress up, it's a slightly different story. He'll be surprisingly anxious about it. Certainly it's not a lack of money or that the idea is displeasing to him. He doesn't want to be an "ugly" monster, but he "can't" play someone handsome. There's definitely a mental block there that he can't quite get past emotionally.

HOWEVER. If you suggest a mobster for him and being his little moll/arm candy? Period piece? He can do that. Big old cigar and everything. Probably commissions Jervis for the work. The guy will make sure it's all accurate.

He rolls up to the Halloween party at Harley's place with a box of "goodies" he has one of his underlings haul in. Expensive chocolates filled with liquor. Don't ask where he got it. Tonight is gonna be a fun night.

Mad Hatter

Halloween is a special time for Jervis when he can get really wild with costuming. Besides patching and creating things for other rogues, of course. If there is any kind of contest, he is likely going to win it. In fact, he's been banned from several around the city for winning too many times. If his s/o doesn't ask him to do their costume, he will pout a little. Even if he can't do the entire thing, let him help! He has an eye for this, you see. And maybe one year, they'll dress up as Alice, for him?

Of course he gets put in charge of costuming for the Haunted House production. Period accurate post-WWI clothing? Give him something difficult to do, why don't you? He does have to be told to keep eyes off some of the scare actors because they're all so pretty and lovely and look so good in his outfits, maybe they'd like some of his special tea- Jonathan helps him keep on point. There will be no Alice searches here.

For the majority of the night, he's manning the backstage area with Edward. Checking cameras that things are running smoothly. Then being available for actors who need a touch up! When one of the actresses comes in crying because some creep grabbed at her, Jervis is scuttling into the behind the scenes walls before Edward can stop him.

He comes back, slightly ruffled and helps the young woman calm down with (non-drugged) tea before sending her back off ready to go. The dork squad can drag the creep out from under one of the beds later and really put the fear into him. Maybe they'll kill him. Perhaps just a maiming. Depends on how lenient they feel later.

He's going to keep the costumes afterwards for different potential projects later unless an actor gets particularly attached. You never know when you'll need something like this!

Scarecrow

His Halloween consists of three things depending upon the year and the current situation: An elaborate spooky plot, a Halloween party to top all others, or a haunted house. Sometimes involving fear toxin! Sometimes not! Again, depends on how he's feeling.

Originally, he had intended on doing everything for himself for the haunted house. He's more than capable of doing it all himself, certainly. Yet, when he mentioned it to his closer companions (or as some call them, "the dork squad"), they all insisted on helping him. Annoying but... he supposes it's rather nice to enjoy this holiday with friends outside of Arkham. He's very clear, however, this concept is his and he has final say.

The story... Oh, he has fun with this. An old spinster and her daughter waiting for the prodigal son to return home from the war... several years too late. The daughter lures inhabitants to the home where the two women overpower them to keep them "forever."

His favorite part of the haunted house besides the writing, is the cellar. As the participants have been led upstairs, then faked out down to the cellar- it's a graveyard of bodies buried in the walls and the ground. Writhing. Trying to get out. They exit with the serial killer chasing them out of the hatch that leads back outdoors. With a ramp for accessibility, of course.

It's a hit! There's a line out to the street and the ten dollar ticket entry fee is definitely racking up some nice change as a bonus. He sets himself up as a scarecrow in the field at the exit, giving one last scare to the guests as they leave. He didn't even need to pump fear toxin in this time!

At the end of the night, the dork squad has drinks after the closing and Jonathan has to admit it wouldn't have been the same without his friends.

Reads "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" at least once. As is tradition.

Music Meister

Normally, Clarence Rinette is quite busy this time of year! If he's not involved with a stage production, he's decorating his home to the nines for trick-or-treaters. Big crafty, theatrical nonsense. Don't ask him how he paid for all this (he got an amazing deal through some vocal persuasion-). Someone once tried to suggest becoming a scare actor- but the truth is if he scared a child, it might actually make him cry. SO! He couldn't be a full on jumping at people scare actor.

Then he hears about Jonathan's plans for the season. Oh-ho-ho! A haunted house? For him? ("No," Jonathan quips, "it's not for you at all-") Well, he's got to be involved in this. It's a theatrical production-! ("It's not a full on production-" Jonathan informs him) ALRIGHT- but it's environmental storytelling. That's set-design. That's him!

People might not expect it of him, but he's done a bit of everything in the theater world. Backstage, lighting, sound, set design and building- and of course as a singer and lead, where he truly belongs. Yet, he's having a field day bringing in furniture for the haunted house. Setting up spiderwebs and aging some of the walls and props. Atmospheric sounds and smells for some of the rooms.

He's also in charge of assisting Jervis with makeup and making sure actors are ready- Before dressing up as an actor himself, you know. Gives himself a guide role in the Library to hype people up with the "history" of the house. Plus the hidden passageway reveal. Loves every second of it.

Victor Zsasz

Hardly registers Halloween. Every day is Halloween to this guy. Look at the people he associates with! He's surrounded by dead things all the time. How is this one time of year really that much different except everyone else is on the same page? What, he's supposed to dress up? He's got killing business to do.

Picture it. His target is walking around Gotham, feeling tipsy in their angel costume. The biggest Halloween party in town always spills out into the streets. A figure is closely following them in a full latex mask and black outfit. "Fake" machete at their side. The angel stumbles into an alleyway, the figure following close behind. The figure is Zsasz, in case you didn't guess, and he's got an angel to carve up for dinner. Cuts their heart in half as he leaves it next to their corpse. Takes a couple of their teeth for souvenirs. The rest he'll toss in the harbor. Have fun identifying that, GCPD.

If for some reason he IS home, he'll pass out candy to kids. Hawaiian shirt to cover his chest of scars. Spooks teens away that he thinks are too old. Gives handfuls of candy to everyone else. Has a straight face for every single person and the parents are definitely checking that candy when they get home (it's fine).

Might be convinced to dress up if his s/o really begs. He'd like it if they dressed up in something suggestive (for him) but he'd understand if they didn't want to. He will let them know that whatever they wear, he's probably taking it off with his knife by the end of the night.

Killer Croc

Normally, he actually doesn't like Halloween much. People assume his face is a scary costume which, frankly, is a pretty awful feeling. Sure, he can walk around easier, but it doesn't stop the stares. Now people feel inclined to ask him for photos. Or worse, they just take them without asking. More than usual.

Several parents at the daycare he sometimes works security at decide to do group trick-or-treating. They tell him he doesn't have to join in or... you know, he probably has plans, nevermind- He's already agreeing. Chaperone, he can do that. Better than staying home to watch the tube and not answer the door all night. He always leaves a bowl of candy but they always end up knocking anyways.

One of the kids gives him kitty ears and he rolls with it. If anyone asks, he makes a graveled, growling "meow" in his voice that makes the children giggle. Waylon watches the groups of people around them, glaring if any of them even look like they might try to pinch someones wallet or start bullying.

There is one Incident that occurs at a place with a porch in the downtown area. Waylon recognizes it from a mile away. A guy in a reaper costume is sitting on a chair. The other college kids are drinking beers telling kids to go up. That it's safe. They won't get scared. Then the man in costume scares the life out of them to the raucous laughter of all of them.

One of the parents seems to be trying to ask them if the children are going to get scared. Of course the people at the house lies. Instead of guiding the children away, however, Waylon grabs one of the kids by the hand and steps onto the porch to the man in costume. Leans down and gives his best crackling "meow" into the masked face of the man. Do it. Scare this fucking kid. He can smell the fear on the reaper as the kid pulls him away.

"Don't scare any more kids." He tells the college students. Shaking, they nod before going to check on their friend. Genuinely, he's very proud of himself for handling it in a way that didn't phase the kids.

Harley Quinn

If she's dating someone, there's a 90% chance they're doing some kind of matching costume situation. It's like. The rule for couples! They'll be really cute or really scary or both! Joker would NEVER do anything like this with her no matter how much she begged and pleaded. Consider this part of her getting to just be happy with herself and the things he wants to do with her life.

This year, she is throwing a party and it is going to be talked about for years afterwards. She figured if Jon isn't doing it this year, it's her time. She and Ivy attend his haunted house the night before in support. At one point she almost jumps into her friends arms with a particularly well timed jump scare out of the wall.

The theme for her party (that no one is expected to dress for) is undead glitz and glamor. We're talking the Hollywood Forever Cemetery kind of style. There's skeletons dressed in 40s and 50s red carpet affair around the apartment. Harley herself is a zombified Marylin Monroe type. Curled blonde hair and full makeup, one side of her face "split" to show fake teeth on her cheek.

There is a photo station for everyone attending with a camera she borrowed from Edward for high quality shots. Plus a polaroid. For funsies! It has props and a cardboard standee that Harley painted herself to look like an old fashioned hotel ballroom.

There's old halloween movies playing in one room for people who need a break. Food on the table in one room. Another is playing some spooky music for dancing. Everyone has a little something for them! Everyone gets a tad too drunk but overall it's a great time.

Poison Ivy

Pamela is always doing a sexy costume. She and Selina have a slight competition each year on who can show off the most tasteful amount of cleavage in an outfit and have the most heads turn. It's not malicious or catty (ba-dum), but rather a friendly thing where it's the two of them in on the joke. One year Harley convinced them to do a very cute-sy group look as the Gotham City Sirens. There's several lovely posed photos from the beginning of the night and then a very drunk selfie of the three of them at a pizza place at the end of the night. The latter is Pamela's lock screen on her phone.

For the party, Harley asked for some minor assistance which roughly translates to "keep me reigned in or I'll go way overboard." A lot of shopping and keeping in budget. Dressing up the skeletons and helping to decorate. She even allowed Harley to borrow some of her "spooky" looking plants to add to the aesthetic.

Pamela asked Waylon (who already had plans) for some recipes and added her own recipes to the mix. There's some that are more elevated since it is an adult party. There are plenty, however, that are incredibly cheesy- like crushed oreos to mimic graveyard dirt. She dresses up as a spooky Mae West with floral/vine theming. Full curves on display. There's several non-rogues who try to hit on her and she kicks them from the party.

Two-Face

His costumes are usually incredibly on the nose. Angel/Devil. Black and white vs color. One year they even did Roger and Jessica Rabbit from "Who framed Roger Rabbit?" Before you ask, obviously Jessica was played by Harv, one fake tit barely held in a dress. What normally starts out as a night out going to a party ends up with very drunk Halloween karaoke where Two-Face sings duets, both parts.

If they have an s/o, the dynamic changes a little. Do they want to do a trio costume? A couple costume and Harv and Harvey have to just agree on one harmonious look? Honestly they're fair game with whatever. It's not often they've had a third that wants to be involved in the holidays with them. Being a kind of sort-of trio can complicate things or put people off.

This year in particular they were a blend of rollerskating Ken and white fur coat Ken from the new Barbie movie. It is... hideous. It is garish. Who the hell agreed to make this- Harv is struggling with the one rollerskate on his side but at least Harvey has them standing upright. He agreed on a whim to be white fur coat ken and now it's kind of itchy.

The photos at the party, however, are fire and Harley makes copies for herself because it's so delightful. In hindsight, they had so much fun and it was one of the best years.

they do sing "Barbie Girl" by Aqua and "Barbie World" from the movie with Nicki Minaj and Ice Spice as a theme by the end of the night. There is video.

Black Mask

Ironic or no, he loves Halloween. The mythos of wearing the face of a monster to prevent yourself from being haunted or taken by spirits? That's SO his thing. Before the incident in which he "gained" his new face, he would drop insane amounts of money for costumes and sfx. Movie-quality for the big parties at Sionis. Due to being a makeup company, they had some big ones over the years for Halloween.

Now he tends to get busy, but appreciates the masks on the market. If there's a particularly good one he finds that can be set permanently, he'll add it to his collection. If an s/o happens to show him scare maze videos with their different sets and makeup, he might actually find a special interest in it.

When he finds out Harley is throwing the Halloween party this year, he's throwing his own opposing party. A better party. A party with blackjack. And booze!

The party ends up being a lot of underground folks and their partners trying to out-look each other and network. If Roman doesn't have a partner at this point, he has some arm candy in a "sexy" whatever costume to make him look good. When a partner is in the mix- he gets to drop the money on THEM on wild costume and sfx shit. Think of Heidi Klum Halloween but a team effort. Plus bonus: to do the sfx, he'll have to make a mold of your face that he gets to keep and look at amongst his collection.

Mr. Freeze

He's working, leave him alone.

Used to really like passing out candy to the kids with Nora. Fell out of it for a long time. Some years due to incarceration. Others, because of his own mourning. Now he tends to be working towards a cure in solitude far away from civilization to not be bothered for things like holidays.

What he does this year is very dependent on if he's seeing someone or not. If he's seeing someone, he rather wants to stay in and celebrate "normally." Small decorations around the house. A bowl of candy and he dresses up as a space man- The two of you sit in front of the house passing out candy. He delights seeing the kids and complimenting them on their costumes.

If he's by himself, he ends up going to Harley's party and sitting by himself with a drink in his hand for most of it. So awkward and uncomfortable but there is something about his friends not wanting him to be alone. They convince him to a group photo that he ends up framing to put in his lab next to Nora's picture.

Either way, Christmas is his time, so the moment it hits midnight October 31st, everything Halloween is GONE. Now that he's celebrating holidays this year, he's had to restrain himself hard-core so he's not that guy rushing everyone to Christmas.

Ra's al-Ghul

Does Ra's really celebrate holidays? Not unless he's with someone where that's important to them. Let's be honest, he's so old, he was there for some of these celebrations in their infancy.

His idea of celebrating Halloween is recounting the traditions surrounding it. And getting really creepy and ancient with it. I'm talking Samhain kind of thing.

He does not give out candy. If his s/o is into that, he'll kind of participate and not really Get It. Don't expect dressing up, either.

Lots of Edgar Allen Poe readings.

Bane

Didn't celebrate Halloween as a child and constantly forgets about it as an adult. Waylon reminds him to have a bowl of candy the week before because otherwise, Bane won't have anything. This has resulted in him opening the door to some very irate children wondering why he's a weirdo with no candy. Children are harsh, they'll tell you!

If he's out and about for Halloween doing villain stuff, people compliment his Luchador costume and he dies a little inside. While it sucks for him, it is one of the funniest things to see in person. No one is scared of the luchador in Gotham. The children are downright delighted. They want photos with him. There's multiple kids that run up to him speaking the most rapid-fire spanish you've ever heard in your life. There's several in their own luchador costumes that are losing their tiny minds at him. Changes his mood immensely for the better.

He absolutely gives extra candy for cute costumes and little kids, the sucker. He sees a toddler dressed as a pig and he's just cooing "pobrecito cerdo...."

Might go to Harleys party once the kids stop coming. Just to say hi and grab a beer. Feels pretty happy with himself.

#SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THERE'S SO MANY OF THEM #foxwriting #batman rogues #riddler #penguin dc #dc scarecrow #dc mad hatter #poison ivy #Harley Quinn #music meister #killer croc #Bane #victor zsasz #black mask #mr. freeze #ra's al ghul #two-face #Halloween 2023

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