#( For Jacob's own answer feel free to send in another ask for it )

[fadingdaggerr]

omfggg I just finished reading truth be told and it was so amazing and good and wonderful and wow wow wow you're so talented!!! can you please please consider writing a part 2 where r and Mel slowly start dating and Mel starts bringing them back around her family and introducing them to the Abbott crew and everyone is like 👀👀 and then Mel asks them to marry her and everyone is Mel's family is like FINALLY.

truth be lived

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: part two of truth be told, based on request above | 9.6k

includes: useless lesbian disease, fluff, more fluff bc the last part didn't have enough

warnings: they/them pronouns used for r, slight insecurity, kissing/making out

translation: peluche (italian - teddy bear)

italics are flashbacks

note: god this took me so long i’m sorry. my brain is an evil being. but N E ways how shocked are we that this is way fucking longer than part one? we aren’t? that’s what i thought. swear my dumbass can't make it easy on myself, but i just really wanted to grow the relationship and not just throw it out there yk?? excuses excuses, i know

It’s almost worse than when Barbara made her go a month without caffeine. Scratch that. It’s fifty times worse. It’s been a week that Melissa has gone without getting to see you. The week that will finally come to a close once the clock strikes seven and you show up at her door.

Saturdays, as of late, the two of you spent nearly three hours in a coffee shop, talking endlessly until your macchiatos went cold. Catching up on over a decade apart was slowly patching the dam that gave out all those years ago. A month of this gravitated to getting lunch together during the week, sitting together on a bench in the halfway point between your jobs. A couple more weeks, and you started going to the bar on Fridays to get your whiskey sours to celebrate the end of a hard week.

It was over stealing a cherry from your drink that Melissa got brave enough to ask you what had been on her mind since she saw you again. She knew it had to be her move, after all that had happened before.

“Next Friday night, you busy?” Melissa asks as she picks the stem off.

Your tongue ghosts over your lips, “not at all. And for you, I’m always free.”

“Would you wanna go out? With me?” An exhale rattles her chest, “Like a- like a date?”

Scanning her face, all you can see is sincerity in her question, and not a touch of restraint. The corners of your lips fly up, creases around your eyes deepening as you take in the sight of a nervous, but hopeful, Melissa. What you wouldn’t give to cradle those flushed, pink cheeks and kiss her right now.

“I would love to go on a date with you,” you answer, “name the time and place, and I’m there.”

A grin that’s equally dorky as yours appears on Melissa's face, her smile prevalent in her voice, “you worry about nothing. I’ll pick you up.”

Green eyes flick from the Tucci mug in front of her to the clock over the door. Only eleven hours and forty minutes, not that she’s counting. A sigh passes her lips at her own desperation. She went nearly a decade without you, half a week shouldn’t be this hard. By God, though, it is.

By lunch, it feels like another week passed her by. A sense of freedom fills Melissa, finally able to dig her phone out of the bottom drawer of her desk where she previously jailed it, too tempted to check for texts from you or send her own. For added proof of her restraint, she doesn’t allow herself to look at the screen until she sits at the table next to Barb.

The moment leather pants meet the hard plastic chair, her phone is ripped from her pocket, glasses perched on her nose. Glossy lips stretch into a smile immediately.

Peluche: any idea how to make 6.5 hours into 0?

Peluche: asking for a friend

Tell your ‘friend’ if I knew, I would have done it.

The little smirk on her face does not go unnoticed by the others in the room, though none are brave enough to ask about it. Jacob eyes his roommate from across the room. He’s seen the weight on her shoulders fly off within the last few weeks, the oven door hasn’t slammed once, she didn’t even make fun of his new kombucha. Early excuses to retire to her bedroom were becoming more frequent, and after a very brave snooping session, Jacob heard tiny bits of a phone call. Breathy giggles coming from his roommate made him step away, an act to save not only his room, but also his life.

The little grin that would appear on her face, before she scurried upstairs, was the same one that she wears at this very moment. It takes the willpower of a thousand Ava’s in a hookah bar to not jump up and down at the thought that Melissa may be seeing someone again, someone clearly better for her. With all of his self-control, held together with sheer desperation, he glances at Barbara. God’s number one soldier is smiling to herself, giving a little nod as she feels his gaze on her. Confirmation.

There’s a certain pep in her step the rest of the day. Not one eye roll as Janine breathlessly recounted her walk back from the deli, no pinching the bridge of her nose when a student asked a question she’d answered seven times already today, not even one occurrence of biting her tongue to save herself an elbow from Barbara. Blissfully happy Melissa is almost more terrifying than angry Melissa, her stiff walk replaced with a certain bounce that didn’t diminish.

“Alright, little eagles, it is go-time! Move it, move it! If you’re not out the door in ten seconds, you’re spending the night with the Abbott ghosts!” The kids all run past Melissa in a flock of giggles as she mentally counts each one, making sure everyone is accounted for before locking up her room. Giddiness grows in her chest, T-minus four hours, and she finds herself just as motivated as the children to run out the doors. Uncharacteristically, she tries to avoid Barbara on her way out, trying to get home as fast as humanly possible, knowing she would be in a frenzied overdrive once she starts getting ready to see you.

“Melissa!” She cringes as she hears her name at the end of the hall, stalling her in her place. Turning on her heel, the redhead faces the floor to hide the pained expression she wears, before looking back up. “Girl, where are you going in such a hurry? You’re moving like the devil is on your heels.”

“The devil couldn’t catch me if he tried,” Melissa snorts, “and I’m just tryna get home, I got plans tonight.”

Barbara raises a brow, “plans, you say? With whom?”

“No one,” she replies, but the sly grin and pink cheeks give her away.

The kindergarten teacher hums, “well, you have fun with no one. I expect a debrief Monday morning, maybe Saturday if you find some free time.” Pink cheeks go as red as Melissa’s hair at the insinuation, only managing a little huff and nod as a response before slinking off to her car.

—☽—

Melissa had given you only one direction for tonight, being that you should dress warm. As much as she knew the limited information would bother you, she hoped you trusted her enough to go along with it, and you did without question, but not without a half-second of hesitation. She could already picture the game of eenie-meenie you would likely play when you went to pick out a sweater or sweatshirt.

And she would be right. With an hour left before Melissa was to arrive, you stood half-naked in front of the closet on your fifth round of the game in trying to choose what to wear. Though every time you reject an option, you’d manage to find a potential reason to go with it, and the cycle keeps going. Deciding to let fate take its chance, you throw an arm over your eyes and blindly swing the other to randomly grab something to wear, at this point you don’t even care if it’s the matching Bluey sweatshirt you share with your nephew.

Fate is on your side it seems, the blind reach procuring a loose fitting, dark grey sweater, one you’d owned over half your life. One that Melissa had stolen many times before, that you had to steal back from her. Without a second thought, you put a longsleeve on before the sweater, just in case it finds a way to pass ownership.

Similarly to last week, you find yourself tense and jittery, waiting on the edge of your seat for the text that tells you that you’ll be able to see her again. Bosco nudges at your hands to be pet, clearly noticing your nerves, attempting to snuggle them away. He’s an expert, your shaky hands stilling as you scratch gently around his neck, dodging his wet nose before it meets your eye. Utterly in the zone petting the spaniel, your phone pinging pulls you from your trance.

pretty girl: Ready when you are.

i’ll be right down, just a sec

pretty girl: Take your time hon.

You, in fact, do not take your time, but what Melissa doesn’t see, she can’t possibly know. Panting at the bottom of the stairs, you take a spare few seconds to catch your breath before walking towards the only car in the lot with its lights on. Leaning against it was Melissa, picking at her nails with pursed lips, a tell-tale sign of her nerves. The closer you get, the more clearly you can see her. Her bright pink hoodie is clearer now, contrasting against a pair of leather pants that almost rip the air from your lungs.

The words leave your lips before you can really stop them, “you’re beautiful.”

Bright eyes look up from the pavement, wide with surprise from your seemingly sudden appearance in front of her. Heat spreads from down her face to her chest at the compliment, feeling every bit of it from head to toe, reveling in the warmth of your attention. It’s been years since you’ve looked at her like this, much less spoken.

“You-” she breathes, “you’re wow.” A second wave hits her when she sees what you’re wearing, that fucking sweater. She’d stolen it more times than she can count, straight from the closet or even directly off of your body, and now it was within arms reach again.

“Should’ve asked first, wearing your sweater and all,” you say lightheartedly, hoping that it will calm the nerves between you both.

“I guess I can let it slide this time,” Melissa chuckles, looking down bashfully. “You ready to get going?”

All you manage is a nod, far too excited to be in her presence to get anymore words out. Ever the gentlewoman, Melissa slides in front of you to open your door, closing it once you’ve slid into your seat. You knew better than to ask where you were going, the redhead already told you three times that she wasn’t spoiling anything for you.

The entirety of the twenty minute drive, it takes a god-like amount of effort to keep from staring at Melissa’s hand on the gear shift. Shimmering rings just beg to be fiddled with, hand asking to be held, but you refrain from crossing the line. The late time keeps the road relatively empty, though Philly streets are never silent, a cacophony of horns and yelling seems to linger regardless of the sun’s presence.

The car pulls into a lot of a building, only a small deli on the first level, the rest appears to be utterly vacant. Slowly, you turn to face Melissa, looking at her with pure confusion and a need for an answer.

She peeks over, sensing your gaze on her. Putting the car in park she simply says, “just trust me.”

“I do,” you reply without hesitation.

It takes very little persuading for you to begin following Melissa, in through the deli where she greeted the man at the front desk. From the little Italian you still remember from being around her family, you pick up something about a door and the two of you being allowed to do something. All the fishing for translation in your mind halts when a hand goes to the small of your back, guiding you to the back of the shop towards the stairs. At the top floor, Melissa reaches around you to put the code into the door, opening the roof access. Three thick blankets stacked on top of one another, with a cooler holding them down, greet you when you turn after watching the redhead prop the door open with a brick.

A sort of wonder takes over, just following her movements as she sits on the blankets, patting the spot next to her. Taking residence next to her, you scoot closer without even an attempt of subtlety. Glossy lips curve into a smile at your action, Melissa immediately trying to hide it by reaching into the orange cooler.

From the cooler, she pulls out a shaker and a bottle of whiskey, peeking at you with a mischievous look in her eye. Without breaking eye contact, she lifts out simple syrup and lemon juice. Simultaneously, both your noses scrunch, leaning into each other slightly as you snicker, feeling juvenile in the excitement of it all. 

Despite taking the time to garnish both your drinks with maraschinos, you pretend to not notice the sly reaches to pull them out of your drink. As far as you’re concerned, she can have whatever she wants if you get to hear that quiet, satisfied giggle.

Reaching into the cooler again, Melissa pulls out a small radio, checking her watch as she fiddles with the dials. After a few moments, you hear what sounds like the opening credits of a movie. Knocking her knee with your own to get your attention, she points to a screen a little ways away, a small drive-in theater that you didn’t even know was in the city. Squinting a little to see the title from the distance, you see that it’s Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, one of her father’s favorites. The thought alone makes you smile, he’d gotten you both into westerns once you were ‘old enough to appreciate them,’ meaning when you were well into your twenties.

It takes little time for the two of you to end up pressed against each other, everything packed away and forgotten off to the side. The two of you stay quiet as you listen to the movie, both mouthing lines you remember. Your eyes long to look at her, so you look down to grab your drink, shifting your eyes to look at Melissa.

Once you do, all you can do is watch her, her hands, her eyes, her lips, how content she is written on her face. It’s hard to take your eyes off her, it always has been, but right now it feels more difficult than ever. Yellow street lights barely illuminate her, everything you can see is because of the sheer closeness of your bodies. The warmth radiating off of her is grounding, the chill around you nonexistent.

Feeling your attention on her quickly has Melissa turning towards you. She’s met with a nose brushing against hers, both of your eyes widening at the newfound closeness. Neither of you even attempt to move away, completely engrossed in each other’s gaze; the closest you two had been in a decade, here and now.

“Can I-” She doesn’t get a chance to finish her sentence.

“Please.”

Lips rush to press against yours, moving quickly, but so carefully that you can’t help the whine that crawls out of your throat. It takes even less time for your hands to slide up to her face, holding her close as her own hands wander to hold your sides. Needy fingers weave into her hair, tugging lightly at soft copper. Melissa groans into your mouth, tongue swiping against your lips, being met with instant entry and a cross between a sigh and moan.

Any remaining gloss that wasn’t sticking to the plastic cups was spread across your lips, giving you a taste of cherry and lemon, whiskey shared between you. The feeling of her tongue is intoxicating, and all you can manage is to haul her closer, wanting her entirely against you. Catching on, Melissa pushes further into you, leaning you down onto the blankets. The change in position seems to bring a moment of pause to both of you, parting for a moment to catch your breaths.

Slowly, you open your eyes, meeting jade eyes with blown out pupils. Detangling your hands from her hair, you bring them back to hold her face. Stroking your thumb over her cheek, her eyes flutter shut as a deep breath leaves her chest. You gently pass over her cheekbone, following the slope to her lips, kiss-swollen and lovely. Brushing against her lips, you see her eyes open again, watching your attention on her skin. You can practically feel the nerves radiating off of her.

Tugging her down gently, you press a soft kiss to her lips, easy and slow. A silent reassurance that you weren’t going anywhere, that you want this just as much as she does.

The entire drive back to your building, Melissa keeps her hand in yours, enjoying the feeling of your grip tightening around hers every now and then. Uncharacteristically, she drives the speed limit through the streets, wanting to prolong her time with you as much as she can. Pulling into the lot, she lifts your hand to press a kiss to it before hopping out, rounding the car to open your door.

“What a charmer,” you joke, voice bubbly and light from pure adoration for the woman. Humming, Melissa’s fingers tangle with yours as she walks you to the door. Leaning against the cold brick of the building, you pull her in closer, wanting her in your orbit a little longer.

Her thumb glides over your knuckles, “thank you, for tonight.”

“Thank you. Next time, though, I’m planning everything,” an easy smile crosses your face as you fiddle with her rings. You watch a barely suppressed excitement cross her features, feeling your heart swell at the sight.

Subconsciously, you both lean into each other, no words spoken between you. Your eyes flick to her licks, catching her attention. With a barely there touch, Melissa presses a kiss to your lips, lingering as you just barely keen into her. As she pulls away, she forces herself to take a step back, knowing if she stays close that she’ll never leave.

“Can’t wait,” she says, a smile on her lips that never fades when she’s around you.

“Text me when you get home?” You have to keep a hand on the wall behind to keep you in place, too drawn to Melissa for your own good.

She chuckles, taking a step back, “it’s a five minute drive.”

“Just text me, please,” your head drops to the side, looking at her through your lashes.

The only you get is a little nod, reveling in her little smirk as she turns away. Your eyes stay on her, intent on seeing her safely to her car, but she seems to have other ideas. Before she even reaches the fence, Melissa turns on her heel and quickly walks back up to you. Without so much as a warning, she holds your face in her hands and plants one more solid kiss to your lips.

When she pulls away she sees your brows raised and a dumbfounded look on your face, it leaves her with a little spark of pride in her chest. Her thumb passes over your lip before she steps back, slowly walking backwards, “I’ll text you.”

—☽—

The trudging of Jacob coming upstairs shakes Melissa from her last minute indecisiveness about her choice of shirt, registering her open door, throwing the green shirt over her bra-clad form. Quick feet land her in front of her vanity, plopping in the seat to seem busy instead of fretful. Silent prayers that he leaves her alone go unanswered, peeking in as she unscrews the wand of her mascara.

“What’re you up to tonight?” Jacob asks, practically hopping up to her.

She purposely avoids looking at him, “noneya.”

“Oooh, come on Mel-Mel! Spill!”

“Stop calling me that,” she lets out shortly, carefully blinking on mascara. “I’m just going out, that’s all.” Melissa promised herself the second you came back into her life, she wouldn’t refer to you as just a friend. Not until you told her that’s all you want from her, she couldn’t blame you for that choice after all of her own.

You are beginning to run out of things to fill the time until Melissa arrives. The kitchen was wiped down and swept, the living room vacuumed, shit, you even wiped down the blinds. A nagging part of your mind keeps ringing that maybe you should change the blanket over the back of the couch, but the others don’t match the pillows and that will only make your skin crawl more.

A slammed door in the hall makes you startle out of the near catatonic state you’re in, eyes glazed over as they stare unfocused at the coffee table. Your eyes jump to the clock, the little hand getting closer and closer to the seven, only twenty minutes until she’s here. You let out a deep breath before it hits you, only twenty minutes.

Nearly crashing to the floor as your socks glide on the carpet, you rip the top drawer of your dresser open, brain rushing to figure out if the fluffy socks are a bad look or not. Eyes clenching, you sigh at the immaturity of your own thoughts, feeling like a middle schooler trying to get their crush to like them. It’s all frivolous, really. But, God, you want her to like you.

With five minutes left to wait, you find yourself sitting on the couch, staring at the dark TV screen as your leg bounces hard enough to cause a six-point magnitude earthquake.

Unbeknownst to you, Melissa has been sitting in the lot of your building for ten minutes, working up the courage to walk in. If she didn’t get here early, she is sure she would’ve been late walking inside. Melissa stretches out her hand from the tight clenched fists they had been, crescents in her palm from her pink acrylics. She has to reread her text about a million times before sending it.

Just pulled in.

Peluche: i’ll be right down, give me 30 seconds

Creaking of a heavy metal door takes Melissa out of her thoughts where she stands on the steps, turning to see your head just barely popping out of the door. Neither of you can help the little grins that come to your face, both of your attempts to hide them being useless against the other. Wordlessly, you wave her in, and Melissa is quick to obey. It’s quiet as you both climb the stairs, until you arrive at your front door.

The moment you press one number on the keypad, Bosco is barking up a storm on the other side of the door. When the door opens, he is just as quick to start jumping on Melissa, clearly remembering his friend that he hasn’t seen in almost three months.

“Bobo, dude,” you almost whine, trying to tug him away despite his excited hopping, “alright, enough. Bed, now, little freak.”

When you turn back to Melissa, her face is pink from laughter, the lines around her eyes deeper from the smile on her face. Slipping her jacket off her arms, she asks, “is he like that with everyone?”

“No, not everyone,” you answer, stepping forward to grab her jacket from her to hang up, “he’s usually only that excited when I get home or when my neighbor stops by, but he never jumps on him since the man’s like eight thousand years old.”

Melissa tries to ignore the shivers up her spine, “probably just remembers me, or I’m just that special.”

“Two things can be true at once,” you say sincerely, taking the bottle of wine with you as you search for the corkscrew. “I’ve only got stemless glasses, that okay?”

“Blasphemous,” she jokes, leaning against the counter, resting her weight on her elbows.

Lightheartedly, you roll your eyes, pouring her glass first. Melissa’s eyes light up as you swirl the wine in the glass before handing it to her, something she does before she starts any glass. It’s a pointless little thing she has done since Nonna began allowing her a small cup of wine at dinner when she was fifteen, she never thought you would remember something so miniscule.

It takes less than two minutes of sitting on the couch for Melissa to realize that she had made the biggest mistake telling you that she didn’t care what you watched tonight, that you had full reign of choosing. The Conjuring pops up on the screen, the ominous tree makes her groan. Dropping her chin to her shoulder, she stares at you. The pursing of your lips and strict avoidance of her eyes makes the stare turn to a glare.

“You’re fucking kidding,” she says with a facetious anger, “you’re fucking with me.”

Turning slowly, you put on a failing face of innocence, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit,” Melissa laughs through her words, “you’re trying to get me to walk outta here.”

“No! You said I could pick whatever I want,” you gesture towards the TV.

Melissa heads tilts down, but her eyes stay on you, lips turning up, “you tryna get me all scared like a cliche little movie date? Real sly.”

“So what if I am?” Your expression is playful, but there’s something in your voice that makes Melissa feel warm.

A deep breath leaves her lungs, “if this jump scares me, I’m hitting you with a pillow.”

“Thankfully, I have several,” you mumble, a sated smile on your lips as you press play. 

Two glasses of wine later, you find yourself relaxed into the arm of the couch, while Melissa sits curled into a ball, fully leaned into the back of the couch. For someone so confident and brave, it has always humored you that she was so easily scared of horror films. She nearly suffocated you when she came over one night all those years ago, Candyman left you with the redhead clinging to you like a baby koala.

A pitchy squeak pulls you from the reminiscing you can’t seem to escape, eyes scanning the screen, seeing the exorcism scene, before looking towards Melissa. With her hands over your eyes, you can see her mouth moving, quiet mutters of God dammit and mother fucker leaving glossy lips. It’s impossible to suppress the little chuckle that bubbles in your throat, and squinted green eyes stare you down.

“Shut up,” Melissa mumbles, looking at you rather than back at the movie.

“I didn’t say anything,” you can’t even say it with a straight face, “you’re the one that said I could pick the movie.”

Melissa throws the pillow in her lap at you with a weak arm, “you know I don’t like this scary shit. I’ll never get to sleep tonight.”

“I’ll put Fox and the Hound on after,” you offer. Olive eyes give you an unimpressed look, but the corners of her lips turn up before she gives a little nod in silent thanks.

Her eyes don’t leave you as your attention falls back on the screen, watching as you become fully engrossed in the happenings she refuses to acknowledge. Melissa’s mind churns over your earlier statement, how you might’ve just chosen this for her to get closer to you, and she wishes she could say your not-so-subtle plan wasn’t working. Yet, here she is, thinking that if you were holding her, this would feel like a Pixar film.

Slowly, as if you were the spooked one, she slowly shifts closer. After scanning for discomfort that she doesn’t find, Melissa leans closer, praying you’ll catch on.

“Get over here,” you mumble through a huffed laugh, shifting to rest your back against the arm, putting a leg down on the floor to open up space. Not wasting a second, Melissa lays down on top of you, tucking into you enough that only one eye is able to see the TV, but only if she strains to look up.

It takes zero time for your fingers to find the ends of her hair, the feeling only making Melissa settle in further. Your free hand gets a hold of the remote, turning off the movie before it’s even ended. While you’re looking for the cartoon, Melissa fishes her phone from her back pocket, not bothering to move as she checks her messages.

Jacob: sooo am i leaving the porchlight on or are u coming back in the morning

Put the light on, please.

Jacob: am i allowed to ask questions????

The redhead feels your laugh more than she hears it, peeking up she sees your smirking face. You tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, “you’re right, he’s nosy.”

“Told you. If we were at my place right now, we’d be getting interviewed until next week,” Melissa grumbles. Your only answer is a hum, attention moving to the annoying task of typing out the name of the movie.

You just did.

Your chest rumbles with silent laughter at her response, only holding her tighter when her phone drops on the table and her nose bumps against your neck. The meandering fingers that twirl loose curls around them are a constant distraction for Melissa, the voices of Copper and Tod not even reaching her ears as she settles into a comfort she’s been longing for for years. Nothing will ever quite match the feeling of your lips pressing to her temple.

—☽—

Melissa Schemmenti is picky. Name a topic, she’s got a steadfast opinion on it. The Seahawks? Wanna-be Eagles. Mashed potatoes? Better when a little lumpy. Sleeping? Her bed is the only place she can feel rested. She’d grown all too used to sleeping in her own bed alone, it feels foreign to wake up with someone beside her.Well, her opinion may have changed on that last one.

Curled under a thin blanket, Melissa wakes slowly as the little rays of sun work their way under the curtains. Attempting to stretch her legs, she tries to turn on her back, but is met with resistance. Her movement makes the arm around her tighten, a head nudging into her shoulder blades. Her fingers run up and down the expanse of your arm, quietly asking for you to loosen up. With newfound freedom, she turns to face you, meeting half open eyes and a dopey grin. Tucking yourself into her, you press a lingering kiss to the junction of her neck, mumbling into warm skin.

“What was that, baby?” Melissa rasps out.

“Phone went off,” you grumble a little louder, shuffling closer to her.

Blindly, the redhead reaches around for her phone. Huffing, she forces her eyes open enough to catch face unlock, but they immediately bulge out of her head.

Jacob: hey u coming home tonight?

Jacob: mel mel?

Jacob: barbs said u were fine but can u just answer

Jacob: melissa?

Melissa flies up, your arm dropping limply beside her. A high pitched whine climbs out of your throat as you sit up, leaning against her side with your head on her shoulder. Glancing at her screen, your eyes go as wide as hers.

“If you need to call him, go for it,” you say quietly.

She sighs, “I don’t like lying to him. I’m just…”

“I know,” you reach to hold her hand, “just do whatever feels right for now. We’ll figure everything out later.”

Melissa only gives a nod in response, clearly still in her head. Giving her space, you press a kiss to her shoulder before climbing out of bed. Green eyes follow as you walk out of the room, nearly stumbling into the door as you go. She gives herself another moment to watch you by the coffeemaker before glancing back down at her phone.

Once you’ve taste tested the coffee you made for Melissa, you carefully walk back into your room, trying to not spill a single drop. Glancing up from the mugs, you see that Melissa’s eyes are scrunched, clearly hating the conversation that was happening, but accepting the consequences. Opening one eye and seeing you, she presses a finger to her lips as she puts the call on speaker.

“-ad me worried! You could’ve been dead in a ditch, or worse! I’m happy that you’re happy and having a good time, but you need to be safe! Wait- that sounded weird, I meant physically safe. But that kinda safe too!” Her roommate’s, well warranted, rant continues, leaving you both struggling to breathe from the laughter you try to hide.

Melissa takes a deep breath to compose herself, “Jacob, again, I’m sorry. Wasn’t looking at my phone, but I’ll be better about it.”

“Cross your heart!” The sixth grade teacher was clearly not playing games.

Despite him not being able to see her, Melissa actually draws an X on her chest, “cross my heart.”

Laughing inwardly, you leave Melissa to speak with Jacob as you pad around the room, grabbing your clothes for the day. You feel eyes on you as you move, chest warming under her affection. Peeking over your shoulder as you go down the hall to the bathroom, you send her a wink that makes her grin.

When she finally hangs up with Jacob, Melissa flops back onto the bed, mulling things over in her mind. Telling her friends about you couldn’t be so bad, could it? Starting slow could help, but that means starting at home, and Jacob’s mouth is far too big to keep anything to himself. Telling Barbara will be easy, she already knows about you, just not current events.

She knows that Barbara will love you, that you will love Barbara. Deep down she knows the two of you would be two peas in a pod, and the thought of that alone makes Melissa want to throw caution to the wind. As much as she hates to admit it, acceptance of you from Jacob is something that weighs on her. He’ll probably be obsessed with you, and you don’t even have to say how much you want to meet him, she already knows. It could be so easy.

The spiral in her mind comes to a halt when she hears the bathroom door open. Suddenly feeling full of energy, a giddiness in her bones, she jumps out of bed to find you. Finding you in front of the microwave, reheating your coffee, she wraps her arms around your waist. The light squeeze you receive makes you smile, turning in her grasp to face her, arms encircling her neck.

“Hey, you,” you say, fingers twirling her hair.

“Hey, yourself,” she doesn’t even try to hide the lovesick look on her face, “I’ve got a proposition for ya.”

You snort, “you’re propositioning me?”

“Don’t even,” a hand playfully pinches your side, “it’s a serious question.” The little grin on your face drops, and Melissa can feel your hands freeze where they play with her curls. “Not super serious… just wondering if you’d wanna meet them? Barb, Jacob, maybe the others?

“You want that?” She nods immediately. “Are you sure?” She nods again. “Then, okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

—☽—

How on Earth was she ever nervous about this? Seriously, how?

Janine had invited most of Abbott to her shoebox of an apartment for an end of year party, cleverly inviting Melissa and Barbara over early to get them in a cleaning mood. Everyone else wasn’t supposed to arrive for another half hour, you included. Melissa asked you to come later, hoping that there was less of a chance you’d be grilled if you arrived when the party was more full.

Forty sardines with master’s degrees fill the apartment, and Melissa is still finding little things around the place that need to be dusted and wiped down, but her momentum entirely ends when her phone buzzes in her pocket. Nearly dropping the vase in her hands, she fishes her phone out.

Peluche: i think i’m here

Peluche: the bouncer?? won’t let me in

An amused sigh passes her lips as she swerves through the sea of bodies to get to the front door, seeing Mr. Johnson with his arm barring the door.

“Mr. J, let them in,” Melissa laughs out, patting the man’s shoulder. He turns to look at her with scrutinizing eyes, but lowers his arm to allow space for you.

An arm wraps itself around your waist, immediately pulling you into her space, filling your senses with honey and the distinct smell of foundation on her skin. Guiding you carefully, trying to keep anyone from getting too close to you, she brings you over to where Barbara is fussing over a bookshelf. With a tap on the shoulder, the kindergarten teacher turns to Melissa before brown eyes land on you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone so excited to see you in your entire life, and you don’t even know this woman.

“By the good lord’s graces,” she gasps at her own outburst, thrusting out her hand for you. “I’m sorry dear, it is lovely to meet you. I’m Barbara.”

Shaking her hand, you reply, “lovely to meet you, too. I’m-”

“Oh, I know exac-”

“Barb!” Melissa cuts in, pinching the bridge of her nose. Your hand rubs her arm, trying to keep her from blowing a gasket, even if you’re fighting giggles next to her. Her attention falls back on you, all annoyance fading, “you want a drink?”

You nod, feeling her already beginning to tug you away. Rushing your words, you speak to Barbara, “it was nice meeting you!”

“You too, sweetheart. I’ll see you at brunch next week, I’m sure,” Barbara chuckles warmly. Accepting that this was the closest thing she’ll get to an introduction with Melissa.

Staying behind you with hands on your hips to guide you, Melissa leads you towards the kitchen. Everything feels like it’s underwater, with her hands on you, protective and, dare you say, possessive. For someone who had been nervous for days about you meeting everyone, she sure had no care in the world now. Quietly, next to your ear, you hear her counting down from five. Just as she hits one, a squeal pierces your eardrums.

“Oh my gosh. Oh. My. Gosh!” The voice is immediately recognizable to the one that had been lecturing the redhead over the phone in your bedroom only a few weeks ago. “Hi, hi, I’m Jacob, I work with Melissa at Abbott.”

“Also lecture her, from what I heard,” you joke, making Jacob pause.

Without a chance to blink, Jacob jumps up and down, “so you’re where she’s been lately!” Both you and Melissa wince and the sheer volume of it, but recover quickly when he calms, suddenly quiet and scanning you over, “you better be careful, not for her sake, but yours.”

There’s no malice in his words, it’s a pure warning. From the look on his face, it’s entirely about what he’ll do if she gets hurt, not what Melissa would do to you. From behind you, the redhead’s brows scrunch, mostly out of confusion, ready to tell Jacob off for talking to you like that. She feels guilty, she’s the one who messed everything up before, she deserves the questioning of her worthiness.

You take Jacob’s words in stride, “I’m counting on you to set me straight then, if I ever dare to step out of line.”

Jacob’s entire demeanor goes back to normal at your words, looking at Melissa excitedly, “I like them.”

“Yeah, me too. You ain’t special,” she chuckles, hand on your hip tightening, pulling you imperceptibly closer.

Within an hour, most of the partygoers are on the dancefloor, the two of you included. Cups with rum and whatever chaser Janine had left were teetering on spilling, holding your weight against her is all that keeps you from teetering as well. Sea Barbara stays happily to herself with her cardboard cutout dance partner, content to slow dance to the fast paced music. Singing and cheering around you feels far away as your drunken attention refuses to stray from Melissa, her attention staying on you.

It’s increasingly more difficult to not kiss you when you’re this close, but with warm bodies against her at every side, it’s less than ideal. If it were, it would just be the two of you. She’s so close to just asking if you want to get out of here, but she’s interrupted just as she ducks to speak in your ear.

“Melissa! Barbara! You’re supposed to be cleaning!” Janine yells, hands on her hips. You can feel Melissa groan more than you can hear it, loud music almost deafening you in the small apartment. Barbara tries to shoo the shorter woman away, but her drunk state doesn’t hold the same level of authority that it typically does.

“Janine, it’s a party. We’re partying,” Melissa says dismissively. Not once does her hand leave your waist, keeping you from being jostled by other people.

Her speaking up has Janine’s attention back on her, who quickly recognizes your presence. Brown eyes go from your face, to the hands on you, and back to Melissa’s face. Realization and excitement washes over her face, and the chattering that comes from her is hardly heard or understood from the bass boosts and liquor. Flapping hands keep moving as you try your best to gather her words, but she’s running off excitedly before you can even introduce yourself. You watch Janine bounce towards a lanky man, pointing in your direction, clearly telling him that Melissa brought someone.

Chuckling to yourself, you look back to Melissa, whose eyes are already one you. The universe seems to be both with and against her, because just as she tries to speak, the lights go out and the music stops. Warm hands pull you closer in surprise, and you can’t even be upset about your almost empty cup dropping to the floor. Murmurs around you get louder as everyone sits in equal confusion, but Melissa feels her opportunity.

Feeling lips brush your ear, heat rises to your cheeks, “wanna get out of here?”

“God, yes,” you say, shifting your hand from her arm to her hand, interlocking your fingers. Pulling you with her, she quickly gets to Barbara to let her know you’re both leaving, sneakily passing your phone to text Gerald while she gets her friend some water.

By the end of the night, neither of you could even find the energy to change out of your clothes after walking home. Melissa’s apartment being closer was a blessing, you didn’t even register that this was the first time you’ve been there. Neither did Melissa.

Brushing her teeth next to you in the mirror, pulling back sheets on the other side of the bed, becoming your personal pillow the moment you lay on the mattress. It just felt right.

—☽—

Bobbing your head along to Deftones, you mentally map out the drawing you’re supposed to be starting. The measurements they gave you make no sense, especially with the materials they requested. It’s like they’re asking for the building to concave on itself, not to house people. You’d pressed about giving them a consultation, see the inner workings of the old medical office yourself, but they rejected it ‘for time,’ which really means money. Little do they know they’re going to end up costing themselves more.

The song switches from Shove It to Mascara as knocking raps against your door, but they go completely unnoticed to you. So does the voice trying to get your attention without having to tap your shoulder, knowing it sends ten feet in the air in surprise.

“Boss… Boss… Boss!” Terrence gets no response for the third time before looking to the woman on his left, “you’ll have to go get ‘em, I guess. Lunatic keeps the volume to ear bleeding levels so they don’t have to listen to us, I swear.”

Melissa chuckles, “well, thank you anyways, hon. I got it from here.” Moving into the room, she shuts the door behind her, leaning against it to watch you for just a moment.

What she first notices is your button up, or lack thereof, disregarded on a chair on the other side of the room. Selfishly, she lets herself look you up and down, savoring bare arms and the hard look on your face. Melissa finds herself frozen, mind racing with images of you, subconsciously biting her lip as her eyes rake over you. Only pulled out of her mind by a groan that leaves your lips, she wills herself to get closer to you.

With your back still to her, you’re unable to see her slow movements as she tries to sneak up on you. Hands trail up your sides, clutching slightly when she feels you jump at the sudden touch. Turning in her arms, your bewildered expression dies when you meet green eyes, crinkled around the edges in amusement. Catching your breath, you wrap your arms around her neck.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you say softly, “but this is a pleasant surprise.”

“Missed you. I’ve barely seen you all week,” her arms tighten around your waist.

You press your lips together, trying to hide the giddy feeling in your chest that’s spreading, “I’m sorry, they’ve got me practically chained to the desk until this draft is drawn up. Fuckers think it’s easy turning procedure suites into apartments, it’s not.”

“Not your fault, sweetheart,” her lips press to your cheek as she tugs you in, missing holding you, being held by you. “I have dinner with my family tomorrow night, though, so I won’t be around. Just wanted to get my time in with you before I go into withdrawals.”

You laugh at her words, “Withdrawal? Little melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“Me? Never,” she tries to keep a serious face, but her smile overtakes as she watches you roll your eyes lightheartedly.

A finger twirls a copper strand around, voice weary, “tell everyone I said hi?”

“Well…” Melissa’s face drops a little, knowing she hasn’t told her family that you’re back in her life. Her eyes scan your face, seeing the smallest hint of sadness, and hurries to correct it. “You can tell them yourself, if you want.”

The twirling stops, “you mean that? Because you can’t offer that if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it, I promise,” her hands sit more firmly on you now, “they miss you, they just never mention it. But they do. Especially John Anthony. And Kristin Marie, but she’ll never admit that, even to herself.”

The only answer she received is a strong kiss pressing to her lip, her eyes immediately fluttering shut at the contact. The hand in her hair tightens as your entire body pushes into her, groaning at the feeling of her on you mixing with the emotions of it all. How easily she asked you to come with her, to see her family, to be by her side for real this time. It feels too early to say what you want to at this moment, so you just kiss her harder.

Melissa spent half the day and the entire drive to the house telling you that no, her parents don’t hate you, and that yes, they will be incredibly excited to see you again. She kept the knowledge of your attendance secret, not wanting to be slammed with questions, but mostly because she wanted to see the look on her mother’s face when she saw her favorite not-her-child from all those years ago.

“Are you sure you want me to go? I don’t want to if you only offered because you felt like you had to. If I’m impos-”

“You’re not imposing,” she almost whispers as she cradles your face, “I want you there. It hasn’t felt the same since you stopped coming.”

Pressing kissing to your knuckles every now and then, Melissa manages to take some of the anxiety off your shoulders. Turning onto the familiar street, you immediately sit up straighter in your seat, checking your outfit and fiddling with everything, desperate to pick off lint that isn’t even there. Melissa lets it go, knowing there’s no stopping this. Part of her feels guilty, knowing she’s the reason that you felt they could hate you, that they wouldn’t be happy to see you. All she ever told them was you had a mutual falling out, never that it was her fault, especially not that it was yours.

Pulling up in front of the house, Melissa’s fingers tighten around yours. Looking up at her, you see the silent question in her eyes, giving her a nod that tells her you’re fine. To prove yourself, you hop out of the car to jog to her side, opening the door for her with a grin. Shaking her head with a half-hidden smile on her lips, she takes your offered hand and pulls you into her, walking with you to the door.

No knocking required, Melissa steps in first, only letting go of your hand for a brief moment to shrug off your jackets before her hand is back in yours. Chattering in the kitchen leads you to where everyone stands or sits, sipping on beers and white wine. Clearing her throat, Melissa gets the attention of the room. Silence fills the previously loud air.

“Yooooo!” You hear someone yell, a voice that you recognize all too well. Without a moment’s notice, you’re immediately tackled, hand being ripped from Melissa’s. You hug the person back, still trying to figure out exactly who it is, but the exaggerated leaning side-to-side gives you everything. Little John Anthony isn’t so little anymore, not that he ever really was.

Feeling another body against you, one arm reaches behind to give some level of contact as acknowledgement. Slowly people let go of you while others come in, and all you can feel is glad that everything is so busy, no one will see the happy tears forming in your eyes. Annette’s noodle arms let go of you, moving as she feels a tap on her back. When she moves, Melissa’s mother stands before you.

“Finally,” she says, cradling your face in her soft hands, “I knew you’d be back.” Patting your cheek, she finally moves out of the way for others to get a hold of you. Melissa can barely see you most of the night, but the warmth in her chest grows every time she sees you talking with someone new, hugging someone else as you talk. Kristin Marie hides her excitement well, but not well enough, though you let her get away with hugging you tightly without saying anything about it.

By dinner time, everyone’s been reacquainted with your presence, and Melissa can finally get her hands on you again. Scooching her chair closer, she mumbles in your ear while the conversation carries around the table.

“Told you, nothing to worry about,” her hand squeezes your thigh reassuringly.

“I missed them,” you say, running your fingers up and down her arm, “I missed this.”

Family dinner ends the way it always does, with everyone talking in the living room, sipping coffee or the remainder of their drinks. You take your place next to Melissa on the couch, leaning your head on her shoulder as she talks to Toni about something you can’t remember. You haven’t felt this at peace in so long, you missed your family. Annette and Vinny fighting, music playing from the TV, chattering around you in a mix of Italian and English, it’s comforting.

Looking up from your perch on her shoulder, you keep your eyes on Melissa. Watching her hands move as she speaks, how happy she looks, how beautiful she is. Turning slightly to put her glass on the table, she catches your gaze, the corners of her lips going up as she catches the lovesick look on your face. Fully knowing she’s being watched, fully feeling the warmth in her cheeks, she leans in to press a soft kiss to your lips. Careful to not linger long, she pulls away and goes back to her conversation with her sister.

No more hiding.

—☽—

“Am I buying groceries for two people or three this week?” You ask as you walk into the kitchen, fidgeting with the pen in your hand,

“Mmm… Jacob mentioned maybe stopping by tomorrow night, so probably three,” Melissa answers, looking through the pantry, “and we need potatoes, I forgot to write that down.”

“Red ones?” You joke, coming up behind her to press your lips to the junction of her neck. Leaning her head back onto your shoulder, she lets you continue your path up her neck to her jaw, nipping at her ear. “I gotta get going before they close,” Melissa whines at the loss of contact, “I’ll be quick, might not even pay.”

She chuckles warmly, scrunching her nose, “right, sure you won’t, goodie-two-shoes.”

Pulling away, you jot down russets and give her another kiss, this one to her lips. “I love you,” you mumble as you part, “see you in a bit.”

The moment the front door shuts, the once cozy and nonchalant Melissa is replaced by a frenzied and excited one. Flying around the house, she begins to put her plan in place. Tealights are placed everywhere, the lighter checked for fuel, the small box from under her socks now buried in her pocket, she just had to open the bottle of Angel’s Envy. It took an embarrassing number of different liquor stores to find, but that was months ago, and this is now.

Melissa lights the last candle just as she hears your car door slam shut, then the trunk. Staying out of direct view, she watches you come in the door, looking at your feet as you walk. You’re in your own little world, completely walking through to the kitchen, dropping the bags off. Making your way into the living room, you almost drop the bouquet in your hands.

Candles all around the room, music playing softly from the record player, Melissa wearing your sweater. Your jaw drops, eyes wide as you stare at the redhead, utterly bewildered. She takes the chance to step a little closer, watery smile stretching across her face as you shakily hold out red chrysanthemums. Taking them carefully, she sets them on the table, grabbing your hand to pull you with her. Soft eyes watch her every movement, letting her move you around until you’re where she wants you.

“I love you,” Melissa says quietly, shifting from the couch to the floor, “I’ve loved you since the day I met you, and I haven’t stopped once. Even when I didn’t know, I loved you. When I wouldn’t listen to my own brain, I loved you. When I thought I couldn’t, I loved you.”

“Mel…” Your voice comes out cracked, a wobbly lip stuck between smiling and sobbing.

“Let me finish, baby,” she says softly, stroking the hand she holds in her own, “you are everything to me, and it took me too long to figure that out. But now, I’m not taking a single thing for granted, not you, never you.” Melissa reaches into her back pocket, pulling out a small, emerald box, “I wish I could’ve had you my whole life, but all I can ask you for is the rest of it.”

Tears spill down your cheeks at her words, fingers clinging to her hand like a life source. You so badly want to reach out, cup her face, and kiss her, her words playing the strings of your heart, but you refrain. Too much restraint goes into not pouncing on her the second she pulled out the ring box, your lips practically begging to be on hers already. You can’t help the frown on your face when Melissa’s hand leaves you, properly holding the ring to present it to you.

“Will you marry me?” The smile on her lips only grows as she asks, knowing what you’ll say just based on the look you give her.

What she doesn’t account for was that all your restraint would break, and she’s knocked to the floor as you pepper her face with kisses, lips smacking against her skin. Moving from her forehead, to her cheeks, and finally, to her lips. All love, all want, all devotion, all you.

“Yes, yes,” you answer quickly, lips barely parting from hers, “God, I love you. I love you so much.”

Chuckling at your overexcited babbling, she manages to sit you both up, keeping you in her lap. A warm hand pulls your left hand from her face, sliding the ring on without taking her eyes off of you. Your hand immediately goes back to her face, pulling her into your kiss once more.

Morning back pain be damned, neither of you leave the floor of the living room the rest of the night. Waking up with your heart beating under her ear is all the consolation she needs, your newly ringed hand in hers.

At the next family dinner, all the cousins take one peek at your hand, eyes widening. Melissa and you both brace for shouting and to be lifted in the air by one of her brothers, but you were wrong. Maria Christina groans as she passes a twenty over to Seamus, who was getting handed money by at least four other people. He peeks up to see a very shocked you and Melissa.

“What? We all saw it coming, I just picked the right week. Ma said tomorrow.”

note: time for sol’s monthly novel <3 hope you enjoyed

feedback appreciated as always

[countrymusiclover]

82 - Finding the Heretics

Part 83

Gemini Runaway

@icefrye19 @secretdreamlandmentality

“I still can’t believe that you and your brother are heretics. As far as I knew the remaining ones were long since destroyed.” Jo said, sitting at the edge of the bed.

The girls were asleep in their beds since it was almost midnight but we didn’t feel like sleeping. Jacob and I shared the same look of confusion where he asked her. “What do you mean remaining ones. Are you saying there were heretics before me and Rae?”

“Before the 1900s, Damon and Stefan’s mother fell in with a group of witches that were cast out of the Gemini coven.” Jo began explaining, putting her hands together in her lap. “They were known as heretics, siphoners like Kai, but not just that. Lily turned them, resulting in creatures that are both witch and vampire.”

Sending her a look I raised a brow. “If they existed during that time then how could the Original vampire family not know about them?”

“That’s a question for your husband, Rae. I can’t answer that. What I can tell you both is this. These are witches that have magic only when they siphon power from another source. As vampires…” She sighed, slumping her shoulders.

Jacob finished her sentence. “They have a constant source.”

“They can siphon off of themselves like we can.” I added on afterwards twirling the wedding ring on my left hand.

The current Gemini twin nodded. “They were on their way to destroy the Gemini, but the coven got to them first, put them into exile. Heretics are ruthless...Vampires with witch power, an aberration of nature….at least that is what my father told me growing up.”

“No wonder uncle Joshua was so angry at you.” Jacob glanced at me.

Tucking hair behind my ear I stared at my cousin knowing how her dad felt about siphons. All witch coven’s didn’t like them. But now it was especially dangerous if they were vampires like us. “The coven really doesn’t like people who aren’t like them.”

“They can never be allowed to escape. Imagine Kai with the bloodlust of a vampire. Now imagine 6 of them.” Josette warned my brother and I.

Leaning towards her I put my hands together in my lap, still slightly confused about one thing. “You said escape. Escape from where exactly, Jo?”

“Our coven created Lily and her heretics their own prison world. And it hasn’t been touched since the day it was created. As far as I know all the vampires should have died from lack of blood.” Josette revealed making the two of us go silent for the rest of the evening.

Looking around in some of the cabinets and drawers we had been looking for the ascendant for hours and found nothing. We were back at my uncle’s abandoned house. His place was the last where about the object since Kai was released. “Urgh. It has to be here somewhere. It wouldn’t just vanish into thin air.”

“Remind me again why we are even searching for the ascendant if all the prison worlds are soon to be destroyed once we make sure that Kai is actually dead.” Klaus learned against the doorway of my uncle's bedroom arms crossed.

Cami put some books on the shelf looking for a hiding hole but was finding nothing either. “Because Raelyn thinks that they might be a threat.”

“And anything like an army of heretics according to Josette was a bad idea to release.” Jacob added on after her.

Shoving my hands against the table I sighed, throwing my hair over my shoulders. “The reason we are doing this is to make sure that the other heretics are actually dead. Jo said that they wouldn't have enough blood so they should be but I’m not taking the chance.”

“And she’s afraid that if they are alive and if they get free. They will be a threat to the entire world.” Jacob crosses his arms over his chest pausing his search.

Alina ran down one of the hallways holding the object in question in her hands. “Mommy, I found it!”

“Thank you, baby. Now we just need some of Bonnie’s blood.” I take it from her hands with Missy and Hope coming behind her.

Cami reached into her pocket drawing a vile of blood handing it to me. “Bonnie actually listened to me without me having to do anything. I said that we needed her blood to unlink the sleeping spell on her and Elena. So she doesn’t know the real reason.”

“Thanks Cami. Now we just have to hope that my plan works and the ascendant registers our daughter's Gemini magic.” Placing the object on the table I sighed, slumping my shoulders.

Klaus moved away from the wall eyeing our daughters who were all looking up at us. “What do you mean I hope it works. They have Gemini blood magic in their veins.”

“But it’s usually the leader that has the power to control the ascendant. So the magic hopefully should recognize them. If it doesn’t then we just have to pray that the prison worlds are destroyed quickly.” I clasped my hands together leading our daughters outside since it was almost dark outside and we would need a celestial event.

Alina, Missy and Hope all held the ascendant in their hands with the moon and the stars over our heads. Glancing over to Cami I told her. “Cami, I need you and Jacob to stay here. In case something happens I want you to destroy the ascendant.”

“Got it.” She nods.

Placing one hand on Alina’s shoulder I offered Klaus my hand. “Okay girls. Say the spell I showed you earlier from Joshua.” Klaus placed his larger hand in mine and his other hand was on Hope’s shoulder.

“Sanguinem filio, sanguinem effurgarex perpetuum. Sanguinem filio, sanguinem effurgarex perpetuum. Phesmatos filio, phesmatos effurgarex perpetuum.” The triplets chanted together where we saw a bright flash of light before we were transported into a dark room.

Glancing around the room I recognized almost as clear as the last time. The dead vampires were still laying around desiccating. “Raelyn, it’s so nice to see you again. Oh and you have brought other visitors how lovely.”

“Lily Salvatore…So I really did see you when my daughters were born.” I trailed off grasping my husband’s hand

Klaus raised his head towards her while Alina sent the woman a skeptical look. “Why did our mommy’s coven send you here?”

“I was banished here because I was a monster. I drank with no remorse from whatever human I could sink my teeth into. But, locked in this cage, I was forced to confront the animal I had become.” She affectionately straightens upright with a smile on her face.

Hope asked her standing beside Missy who didn’t move her eyes away from the desiccating vampires around her. “So you’re a Ripper like our mother. Is that why you are here. Doesn’t that make you a bad person?”

“My eldest daughter does have a point. You must have been pretty bad if you and your um….friends were sent here. I don’t think it would be wise for us to stay here any longer.” Klaus squeezed my hand in his telling me silently that we needed to go.

“You’re right I was a monster. But I am not that person anymore…” Lily trailed off glancing around to the other vampires in the room. “And, as we ran out of resources, my friends sacrificed their rations for me. And, I knew if I drank everything, as every bone in my body demanded, there wouldn't be enough to wake them. So, I learned to control my bloodlust, for them. These people made me feel human again.”

Knitting my brows at her I pushed my daughters behind us not liking where this might go. “As much as I would like to believe that you have changed, I can't. Not all vampires can control their thirsts just like me.”

“I understand your hesitation, Raelyn. Yet I was hoping that if anyone would want to have a family that accepted what you are it would be you.” Lily dropped her smile to the girls. “Especially since one of your daughters will become just like you and my friends one day.”

Klaus vamped in front of Lily holding her by the throat. “My daughter will never become like you or your monster friends!”

“I only wish to protect my friends and be free of this prison. I have served enough time to know that what I did was wrong. Ah! Please give me a chance.” Lily winced under his grasp.

Missy moved around my leg placing her hand on her father’s leg accidentally siphoning him. He released his grip on her throat. “Daddy, we can’t let them die here.”

“Melissa, we can’t do that.” I warned her using her full name.

“Why?” She asked.

Alina and Hope said in unison. “Because she’s dangerous.”

Klaus tugged our youngest by her arm away from Lily and over to me. “Raelyn, we need to go now. We learned they are alive. Which isn’t good. So let’s go before Missy convinces us otherwise.”

“Daddy. Mommy, don’t you always say we should give people another chance. And if they want to be good we should help them do that.” Missy put her hands together begging both of us with puppy dog eyes.

Lily smiled towards Missy leaving the room. “I'll fetch the rest of the blood so we can revive them.”

“Missy…we…” I cut myself short where she started sniffing through tears making me cave. “Huh alright. Find the ascendant in this house and we will release them.”

Missy went searching while Klaus cupped my jaw in his hand sending me a stern look of discomfort. “Raelyn, we are the parents here. We can’t just release these people out into the world. So I urge you to just have Hope and Alina force us out of here and leave Lily here to rot.”

“Nik, look I know I’m weak when it comes to Missy. But it’s not like we can’t just put the creatures back in a new prison world. Our daughters can power the ascendant so long as we have access to Bennett blood.”

He sighed putting his other hand on my shoulder when Lily came back into the room slowly feeding each of her friends the last bite of blood. “I will forever respect you, Raelyn. You are helping my family. I will be in your debt.” Lily grins seeing as they start waking up.

“You better hope we didn’t just do the worst thing imaginable, Rae.” Klaus watched our daughters hold onto the ascendant that was in her prison world.

Squeezing his hand in mine we saw the flash of light returning to our time with seven new vampires waiting to wake up and seek blood. “I’m praying that I didn’t just screw up our lives now too, Nik.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[addictedtostorytelling]

Hi! How are you? 🤗

This might probably be the craziest thing someone has ever asked you hahahaha but...

From all of your favorite shows, if you had to pick some characters to be the friends you choose to hang out with, who would it be, and what would be your favorite way of spending quality time together?

hi, anon!

i'm doing well, thanks for asking! how about you?

i don't know that i have a great answer to your question, a) because i don't usually tend to imagine myself interacting with the stories i like in any way—i'm a spectator, not a participant, through and through—and, b) because i'm the kind of person whose idea of a fun social interaction is just sitting around and talking and telling stories; i'm not super "activities oriented."

so, with those disclaimers in mind, here's what i came up with:

i think i could have a good time going out to dinner with the teachers from abbott elementary every month or so.

like them, i'm an educator who works in a big, east coast metropolitan area, and one of the schools i teach at is a community college with a student body made up of graduates of title i public school districts, like the one abbott is in.

though we work in different areas of the education system (elementary vs. higher ed), i still think barbara, melissa, gregory, janine, jacob and i have enough in common with our work that we could easily pass a few hours eating and swapping our best teaching stories, talking through both some of the challenges we face working at under-resourced institutions—my community college literally just cut our free laptop loaner program that was meant to assist students who can't afford their own computers because the school itself can't afford computers—and some of the joys, like that the students themselves are really great and the community outreach is awesome.

i feel like i could especially learn a lot from barbara and melissa, who have been teaching for 30+ years and have all sorts of experiential wisdom they could share.

plus, they're all just kind and hilarious people, so i'm sure i'd laugh a lot and feel very welcome in their company.

aside from them, i also think i could get along pretty well with grissom and sara from csi, just because of our academic backgrounds.

though they're scientists while i'm a humanities person, we all enjoy learning new things and sharing fun facts.

maybe we could tour museums on the weekends.

just set us loose in the smithsonian system!

i'd love to hear them discuss/explain the exhibits in a science museum, and then maybe i could pitch in if we went to a history or art museum afterward.

alternatively, we could have a nontraditional book club, where instead of there being one assigned book we all read at the same time and then discuss, we instead all just convene to meet and talk about whatever books we are individually reading at the time.

i think we could all have a blast playing the "did you know—?" game and feeding one another trivia, explaining the plots to various narratives and dissecting the cultural and historical implications.

i know these activities probably sound pretty boring, but, honestly, these are things i often do with my real life friends. i dunno. it's just how i'm wired.

outside of those characters, though, i don't really know that i have any blorbos i'd get along well with or want to spend time with as friends. i'm not a very social person just in general, and i lead a very quiet life in comparison to most of the characters whose shows i watch.

ultimately, i like hanging out on my side of the fourth wall rather than being on the characters' side of it.

just like with the plexiglass at the zoo.

anyway, thank you for the fun (and unique) question, anon! please feel welcome to send another any time.

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

wiiaca asked : How does Jacob feel about Colm having met his due during the Saint Denis hanging? -Soka, obviously.

Unprompted asks. / @wiiaca​​ -- always accepting

       I’m answering this ooc because Jacob would be a little grump about it and not go into much detail regarding this.

       So, I sort of go into this topic here in this ask, but frankly, he isn’t crying over his gang leader’s death. Jacob’s place in the O’Driscolls was about money, yes, but what really drew him to it was their influence and notoriety-- or rather, Colm’s notoriety and influence. Jacob is ambitious, even if his father might not see that, but only when he feels passionate about something and becoming the next gang leader of the O’Driscolls is one of his passions. He wants to have control, to feel as if he proved himself, and all of the work he’s done throughout the years being a criminal wasn’t for nothing. It gained him something, even if it’s on the wrong side of the law.  Ethan, his father, and him are similar in the way that they want to gain respect, but in different ways, even if they both don’t want to admit this similarity. 

       Jacob has always been there for Colm. He is always one of the O’Driscolls that is there to save him from the noose, and he doesn’t care about it too much and does his job because he knows keeping Colm alive for a little longer serves him. When the O'Driscolls' luck runs out and Jacob feels like his place in the O’Driscolls is just a title, he has no benefits or privileges and Colm doesn’t give him an ounce of his time for all of the work he does, Jacob’s plan was to leave him to die there in Saint Denis. Jacob believes in his ability in a  gunfight but Colm went too far by thinking he’ll be able to escape the noose in Saint Denis with the heavy police presence there. So, Jacob was going to leave him to die and not feel regretful about it. This whole thing was a death sentence in itself and if the other two O’Driscoll members retaliated against him for not saving him, they would be easier to take care of than the police of Saint Denis and they wouldn’t be worth having around if they were going to be so loyal to Colm. So, he was going to take over the O’Driscolls gang with little remorse and a story that he did all he could to save Colm, but he went too far and he paid for it. He’ll make the gang better and give them a stronger leader and he would say Colm entrusted him with leading if things didn’t work out to soften the other members' view of their new leadership. (A British guy with a possible inheritance waiting for him in a group of majority Irish members? That wasn’t going to go well, even as he was Colm’s right hand man). 

       But, obviously, things did not go that way and the VLDG beat him to it and certified Colm’s death and with his initial hatred of Dutch stealing his train plan in the mountains, this new event soured his dislike for the rival gang even more. He’s still happy about Colm being dead but by it being the VDLG’s plan to see that Colm dead and how they succeded, it rubbed salt in the wound of their persistent feud. So I think this just pushes Jacob to target the gang further and gives him an additional reason for why he’s the O’Driscolls new leader. It sorta works out in his favor, but his pride is soured so he’s not a happy gang leader lmao.

[erismerald]

𝑰 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 (Jacob Frye x reader) 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 1

Hello, my lovely assassins, I've been away from writing for a while but I'm back! And I bring you a story of our beloved assassin Jacob Frye X F!reader, I don't know yet how many chapters this story will have but I hope you like it and have fun with it, I just want to remind you that I am open to requests if you want to send me a message!

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Some fluff and Near Rape

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔: 3306

𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎

You just got off the plane, you look around you, a feeling of excitement and euphoria fills your chest in a comfortable warmth, your gaze fixed on the incredible sight you had, you are amazed, it was your first time in London, and since you were a little girl you wanted to visit that wonderful city, You listened to the bedtime stories your grandmother told you, about the city, about what happened before it became as free a city as it is now, since you were 5 years old you have tried countless times to convince her to come with you to London, it was just you two against the world, she raised you in place of your parents, since they never cared much for you and your well being, and now you had just turned 18, and on this school trip you finally have the chance to make your greatest wish come true, you were so excited that it was hard to breathe, until you felt a hand lightly resting on your shoulder, it was your best friend F/n, she was looking at you with a huge smile, she knew how much you had asked your nanny to allow you to make this trip, In fact, you smiled as you remembered the conversation you had with her:

𝑭𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌

"Ahm nanny, can I talk to you? "You said leaning against the frame of the glass door of the living room, the atmosphere around you, was nostalgic, you loved the rain and the cold, your grandmother was sitting in a small brown armchair, old with time, in front of the big fireplace, the glass roof that both of you had built some summers ago allowed you to see the rain falling, even during the night, it was really calming, in her fragile hands was a book, you knew that book well "Ah that book ...." You approached slowly, and like a child you sat on the carpet looking at your grandmother with a gentle but mysterious smile.

"I know that look my dear, do you want to tell me something?" she asked already knowing what your look meant, you sighed through your nose and gave her permission for the trip "Y/n...." she said with a sweet smile, but before she could say something disapproving, you interrupted by putting both your hands on her lap on top of the book.

"Nanny you have told me so many stories about that city, why don't you let me explore, I.... I have saved enough money to be able to afford the trip, besides F/n will be there with me, can I go? I promise to draw everything I see, to show you nanny, but I want to find out who I am, so far I don't know where I belong..." you said sadly, it was true, you had a family legacy that tormented you for nights on end, your grandmother said it was a brotherhood that helped people but in your view they stole people's lives, to protect? It wasn't right, and you never accepted it, and preferred to believe it was just another bedtime story made up by your grandmother to make you a stronger person.

"Y/n... I wouldn't deny it dear, I encourage you to go, I'm too old to keep you here, besides it's only a month, what could go wrong? I just want you to be careful, and not to be fooled by anyone, and take this" she got up from the chair and walked to a wooden box hidden in the shelf, from there she took out a necklace, made with a coin? "This necklace belonged to a very important person, one that you know and that will make you know a better world and discover who you finally are" she gave you the necklace with a smile and let you enjoy it on your fingers.

"Who did it belong to?" you asked, curious about the small necklace that had been handed to you.

"Jacob Frye. That necklace belonged to Jacob" She said would be, but confident, you laughed a little, she looked at you confused.

"Nanny, you know I don't believe in bedtime stories anymore, Jacob Frye and Evie Frye are just characters in your stories, that you told me to put me to sleep, but they didn't exist but thank you for giving it to me, I will wear it proudly, even if it didn't belong to Jacob, it belonged to you and that's worth a lot, and Thank you for letting me go, I'll be eternally grateful," You said kissing her hand and smiling at her "Well now, how about I make you some tea and you read me some of your book of tales, remind me who was who?" she laughed and nodded, watching you disappear into the darkness that surrounded you.

𝑬𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌

"So excited huh?" she smiled and put her arm over your shoulder, as you laughed a little, it was a strange but warm feeling that you were in a place you had dreamed of so much.

"Of course, I am, you've seen the atmosphere! Can you imagine the adventures we'll have in a month here? I'm so excited I can feel my body energetic, I want to know, I want to visit, being here is just a demonstration that my journey to find out who I am, is going to go well!" you said excitedly as you picked up your bag and moved it to your classmates.

"I like seeing you like this, ever since you found out you were coming here, you've talked about nothing else" she laughed, you smiled shyly, grabbing the necklace your grandmother had given you before you left

"Where does that necklace come from anyway? Did your grandmother explain it to you?" F/n asked as she sat in front of you waiting for the teachers and the rest of the class to arrive.

"Well, she told me it would be useful to me in my future, I didn't quite understand, she said it belonged to one of the Frye twins, the ones she tells in the bedtime stories when we were little" you explained watching and twirling the pendant chained around your neck.

F/n smiled and thought for a moment before speaking, she seemed amused in her own thoughts, it was funny to see her like that you thought to yourself as you heard the teachers calling you to go to the bus.

"Do you think it could be true?" She asked getting up, and following the others, you stopped for a small moment, looked at the necklace, and smiled, Nah... it couldn't be true, could it? Since you were little you knew the story of the Frye brothers, their fight to save London from corruption, their adventures, your nanny loved to tell you those stories when you were younger, when she left the room you stayed awake for hours looking at the stars in the sky, closing your eyes and trying to feel the emotion they had, they were your heroes, you always admired them, but they were just bedtime stories, right? it couldn't be true, maybe your grandmother just said that to remind you of old times? You shake your head and go on your way.

*Time skip*

When you arrived at the hotel you were informed that you were going to make a night tour of the streets of London, you couldn't be more excited, you looked at F/n and she noticed your look immediately.

"I know that look," she said a bit teasingly "tell me what do you want to go and see?" you grabbed her hand and stormed out of the room "ahm calm down young lady, you are going to rip my arm off" you laughed a bit as you got into the elevator.

"You know I'd like to go see Big Ben at night and walk around there, what do you think? we could have dinner nearby, I want to draw the streets at night, to show my grandmother" you answered, going through the small backpack you had, confirming that you had everything there, pencils... sketchbook... wallet... watercolors... phone... you got scared when you heard F/n calling you, you were too lost in your thoughts.

"Hello? land call Y/n I've been calling you for 5 minutes" she looked at you with an amused smile on her face, you looked forward and finally noticed that you had arrived embarrassed, you looked to the side and smiled trying to disguise it "Come on let's go I'm hungry" she pulled you out of the hotel while signaling for a taxi.

As you walked through the streets of London, you imagined what it must have been like in 1850, you were always connected to history and literature, you loved to draw and your grandmother always fascinated you with her stories and her adventures here in London, it was here that she had met your grandfather, would the future also await you with unexpected adventures and romances?

*A few hours later

You were in a cafe near the big ban drawing the environment around you, in a way it seemed magical, it seemed that it wasn't real, you sighed happily while you put back the watercolors and your notebook in your bag, you looked at F/n and a group of friends that were with you.

"I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be right back!" you said, getting up and picking up your backpack, heading for the cafe's bathroom.

"Okay, try not to take too long, we'll be going to the hotel soon" F/n warned you as you walked away.

The bathroom was very rustic, it looked like it was from 1880, that was an interesting thing, when you finished doing what you had to do, you went to the small sink and looked at yourself in the mirror, your hair was tied up in a clumsy bun, and your eyes were more sparkling than usual, a small shade of pink adorned your face, you felt free, inspired, you were ready to have this adventure.

you made a little shell with your hand and took some water on your face to refresh it, when you looked in the mirror you saw a shadow behind you and the light had failed for a few seconds, suddenly you looked back afraid, but... there was no one there, could you have imagined it? Were you so tired that you imagined someone behind you? You took a deep breath, picked up your backpack and headed back to your friends' side, but something unexpected happened, when you left the cafe the atmosphere had changed, it didn't even look like the same cafe you had visited, the people were dressed in an old way, they spoke old English, what had happened? You felt fear invading your mind a little, still quite confused, you approached the bartender in an attempt to get an answer, but he seemed a little surprised to see you, he looked at you from top to bottom, with a disapproving look.

"ahm sorry, but what happened to the cafe? And did you happen to see a group of students on the outside terrace, do you know where they went?" He looked perplexed by what you had said.

"I'm sorry miss but, who are you? and what are those clothes you are wearing? And the student girl? I don't know where you come from but I don't want prostitutes or liars in my pub, if you can get out of here, I would appreciate it" you looked at him outraged, what does he meant by a prostitute? Clothes? Ahm you were really lost, but you respected the gentleman's answer and left, when you left you got an even bigger shock, the environment had changed, there were no cafes, the streets were badly illuminated, the people dressed differently, feeling a wave of fear invading your body you started to run like crazy, looking for someone who could help you, after many panicky minutes and without getting any answer you just sat down in an alley and started to cry, where are you? How could you have stopped there? Not even 10 minutes ago you were with your friends, and now you were alone.

You felt the raindrops wet your body and taking advantage that the rain disguised your tears, you hugged your body and tried to breathe, doubts and fears went through your subconscious until you heard the footsteps of someone approaching you, a feeling of hope invaded you but was soon replaced by fear.

"Hey there doll, want some company for tonight?" a man in his forties approached you, and crouched down beside you, he looked you up and down and examined your body, you tried to get up but he pulled you down and pinned you against the wall.

"You look strange, you don't look like you're from here... but I don't care, you'll do for tonight," he said trying to remove your clothes, you screamed and cried, while that pig undressed you and pinned you to the cold wall, the memories of your grandmother, your friends passed in your eyes while you felt your body being abused, you wanted to escape, you wanted to go home, you weren't ready for this... you should never have come .... out of nowhere you felt his body leave yours, he had fallen unconscious on the floor, you looked forward and saw another man, this one looked to be in his early 20's, his costume was different more hidden, he looked at you and helped you to pull yourself together, when you finally finished you looked up at him, his almond colored eyes bewitched you, he put his thumb on your face wiping the tears that were falling.

"I... I don't know... help me..." You fell to your knees on the ground but your body was held by the mysterious man who had saved your life, you felt safe and somehow protected in his embrace, but you weren't strong enough not to cry once again.

"Shhh love, it's ok" he hugged you tightly and pulled you closer to him "You look a little heated, do you have somewhere to stay?" His voice was husky but mesmerizing, but you couldn't answer as you had collapsed in his arms passed out, the fear, the cold, the pain had overcome the last thing you heard was him asking your name.

𝑱𝒂𝒄𝒐𝒃 𝒑𝒐𝒗

With a sigh the assassin took your face lightly, noting every feature of your face, his eyes slid down your body, it was true what he had heard, the rumors that there was a strange traveler roaming the streets was true, but your clothes looked nothing like what he had seen so far.

The rain fell on your bodies, he was afraid you would get sick, even though he didn't know you he couldn't leave you on the street after what had happened, in one movement he gently picked up your body and took your backpack, and went towards the streets calling for a carriage to take you to the station to take refuge on the train, and take care of you.

Getting into the carriage slowly, so you wouldn't be woken up, not that it would be possible to wake you up because you were fainting from exhaustion, but to prevent it, Jacob put your body on top of his, and with his coat wrapped around you, to warm you up.

"Evie will freak when she sees me... what the-" Jacob stopped his words as his gaze was drawn to the necklace that adorned your neck "How come she has this?" he said holding the necklace in his fingers and looking intensely at you "You really are an unexpected traveler."

The streets of London were bustling, the fight against Crawford Starrick, had not been won yet and there was still a long way to go, but still the streets of London was mesmerizing and agitated, the rain was a strange charm of the city, Jacob knew the streets well, he spent most of his time on the streets freeing people from the clutches of the templar.

But he was curious about this strange traveler, during the early evening some Rooks had told him about this mysterious girl who desperately asked crazy questions to people, some even theorized that she had escaped from some asylum, but Jacob had to see with his own eyes this strange girl who had stopped the city with her unusual appearance.

When he arrived at the station, he saw Grennie carrying some boxes of groceries into the train, and when he approached him with a girl in his arms, Henry ran to meet him helping him out.

"What the hell have you been doing now Jacob? Who this girl?" Henry placed his palm over her face, the heavy breathing and the heat she was eradicating were just signs of a strong fever "This girl is burning up we need to get her to a doctor" He said trying to pick up your body but Jacob refused.

"I am sorry my dear Grennie but unfortunately we can't take her to a doctor, she isn't from around here... I found her because of rumors of a strange traveler in town, but I didn't believe it until I saw her lying on the ground with a Blighter on top of her undressing her, the poor thing was terrified, I couldn't leave her there, but look at the way she looks" Jacob removed his coat a little from over you revealing the clothes your real look. "I don't know where she is from but inside her bag, there is some evidence that she isn't from here, I think it might be useful to us, on our mission... just..." Jacob looked at grennie's face with an abandoned puppy dog look.

"I...I don't know Jacob, Miss Evie will freak out about it, but since she might be useful, we can try to wait until she wakes up so we can ask her who she is" Jacob smiled at the answer, Henry opened the door to Jacob's wagon and helped him lay your body down on the small couch, where Jacob use for sleeping.

"Jacob I just got some news... What is going on here?" Evie said abruptly entering the "room" she looked at Jacob with a disapproving look, she walked over to your body examining you, you are burning up with fever.

"She was helpless with a Blighter on top of her doing God knows what, I wasn't going to leave her there alone, besides she's sick, I felt obligated to bring her here, besides Evie.... She is the girl of the rumors, if what they say is really true that she is not from here, she can be useful to us in this fight." Evie stood up and faced Jacob, she knew he was right but she didn't want to admit it, she knew well that her brother sometimes acted before he thought but at this moment he had the right thing to do.

"We'll take care of her until she recovers and we can get answers from her, we won't leave her on the streets, it's really dangerous, but try to consult me before you bring anyone else here, remember that we have a mission to accomplish, and "personal feelings, can compromise the mission" ". Evie said stroking your hair, "Now both of you get out of here, we can't let her sleep in her wet clothes or she'll get even sicker, and Mrs. Green can call a private doctor to come here to examine her?" Evie smiled sweetly in Henry's direction, who replied just as sweetly, walking off with Jacob, leaving you and Evie alone.

[doubleleoenergy]

iii. Cola, Lolita Series

My pussy tastes like Pepsi cola. My eyes are wide like cherry pies. I gots a taste for men who are older. It's always been so it's no surprise

Series Masterlist

Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Andy Barber x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, drinking, age gap (22 vs early 40s), oral (male receiving)

Words: 2419

Summary: Y/N calls Andy from the club and gives him a new lease on life.

Andy Barber is enjoying the most mundane adult evening of his life. It’s a Saturday night, the boys had all decided to go on a camping trip, guys only of course. Y/N was nowhere to be found when he got home from the gym, and he honestly enjoyed the thought of having a quiet night to himself.

He had taken a shower and afterwards had cooked himself a meal for one: steak, baked potato, and a salad. He washed it all down with a glass of wine, one of the aged bottles he had kept when Laurie was moving her stuff out. Andy had sat down on the couch, comfortably sprawled out watching some new action film that Jacob had recommended.

Not a thought ran through his mind as he sat and watched the first half of the movie, and honestly it was nice. He was tempted to turn off the movie and call it an early night, his plans interrupted immediately when he felt his phone buzzing in the pocket of his sweats.

He pulled the phone out and stared at the screen, his heart racing in his chest as he looked at the name displayed. “Hello?” He answered on the third ring, holding the phone up to his ear.

“Hi boss-man Andyyyyy.” Y/N sing-songed on the other line, Kendrick Lamar’s ‘Humble’ blaring loudly through the speakers behind her.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Andy questioned; concern laced in his voice.

“M’not.” She giggled, holding her phone out to yell at some dude that was trying to ask her to dance. “I went to the club downtown with a friend tonight and she left. What a bitch, right? Anyhow, can you pick me up pleaassseeee Andy. An Uber would be like sooooo expensive.” She moved the phone from her ear to shout out some of the lyrics to the song before coming back to the screen.

“Uh, yeah. Send me the address and I’ll come get you. Are you drunk, y/n?” He stands up, walking to his bedroom and shimmying out of his sweats to put on a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt.

“Not drunk, just a bit tipsy, ya know? I’ll be waiting for you on the dance floor!” She screams, and before Andy can protest, she’s hung up the phone, a loud sigh leaving his lips. So much for his mundane adult night at home.

It didn’t take Andy more than fifteen minutes with Google Maps on to get to the club, having a valet at the door park his Audi for him before waiting at the door for the bouncer to let him in. The minute Andy walked inside he was met by flashing lights and a DJ spinning a popular Dua Lipa song. He pushed his way past the crowd of people, eyes scanning for any sign of y/n.

She had mentioned she would be on the dance floor, and the closer he got the harder he looked for her. Finally, after a few moments and mistakenly touching the shoulder of someone with the same hair color and length as her, it was as if the sea of people had parted as his blue hues locked on her. She was obviously gorgeous, every outfit looking stunning on her, but this was something else. It was like the breath was knocked out of his lungs, the two-piece black bodycon skirt and cropped spaghetti-strapped top revealing every curve of her body. Where the seams would normally be sewn on each side of the thin fabric there lay open strips of rhinestones. The rhinestone strips left the sides of her top open to reveal a healthy amount of sideboob, the skirt revealing the curve of her ass, no panties or bra underneath.

Andy couldn’t help but watch her sway to the music. She looked so carefree, minus the occasional guy that she shooed off with a flick of her wrist. After the second guy had approached and left defeated, Andy walked up, tapping her on the shoulder. As soon as she saw him a huge smile spread across her luscious lips.

“Andyyyy.” Her eyes traveled up and down his body, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. She was devouring him with her eyes. 

“Hey, y/n, let’s go.” Andy nodded towards the door and y/n let out a huff, grabbing his wrist and tugging him towards her.

“C’mon, dance with me.” She purred, trying to tug him further into the crowd with her.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, y/n, besides you’ve had one too many drinks.” He contested, y/n’s eyes rolling back into her head.

“M’not messed up, I’m fully aware of my actions. I even drank some water before you came. Now.” Her tone is filled with lust, motioning him towards her with her finger. “Are you gonna dance with me or what?”

Andy’s head is screaming logically to not do this, she’s Jacob’s friend from school and he was also older than her, and her boss. But before he can protest his feet have a mind of their own and follow her deeper into the crowd on the floor.

He’s not sure what to do, standing there awkwardly as he watches her body shimmying in front of him. The song quickly changes, the new hit by Lil Nas X ‘Montero (Call Me By Your Name)’ blaring out of the speakers.

“C’mere.” The chorus of the song comes and y/n grabs Andy’s hand, tugging him closer to her until she turns so her back is flush against his chest. She moves the hand she’s holding to her waist, tugging the other down to the opposite side before grinding her body back against him.

Holy shit. This is really happening. Andy’s heart is pounding in his chest, rocking his hips forward into her, his hands gripping firmly against her waist now. He can hear her screaming out the lyrics to the song as they dance, tugging at the nape of his neck, craning her own so that she can meet his gaze finally.

Their eyes stay locked as the song ends and another starts, and Andy can feel his painfully hard cock in his jeans. Her eyes move to glance down at his lips and then back up again to his face.

“Come with me.” She whispers, grabbing his hand again and tugging him out of the crowd of people towards the back of the club. Andy is blindly following her, his cock still pressing against the front of his jeans. God, this was so embarrassing.

She snakes her way around the throngs of people until they reach the back wall, the bathroom sign hanging above their heads. The line for the women’s restroom is long, the men’s restroom door a few feet down a separate hallway with not a single soul in sight.

Glancing back at Andy she tugs him towards the door of the men’s restroom, looking inside and under the stalls to ensure that it was completely empty. She pushes open the door fully, motioning him to come in with her.

The heavy door closes behind them, y/n immediately pushing Andy until his back gently hits the wall beside the door.

“I see the way you’ve been looking at me. It’s hard not to notice.” Andy’s expression is a mix of both shock and excitement, his eyes trailing down to meet hers.

“We can’t…” Andy trails off, y/n shushing him with one of her fingers.

“We’re both adults here, and I can make my own decisions. And this is my decision.” Before Andy can protest again, y/n stands up on her tippy toes in her high heels, crashing her lips against his fervently.

He’s confused at first but quickly gives into the kiss, her lips tasting like rum and Pepsi-Cola. His lips melt into hers, moaning into her mouth as she parts her lips, his tongue exploring further. Her hands are roaming first through his hair, tugging lightly as they continue their kiss before roaming them down the taut muscles of his arms.

Finally, she presses her body against his, feeling how hard he is through the denim. She breaks the kiss, eyes wide like cherry pies and lips swollen from their actions.

“Get in the stall.” She commands, nodding her head in its direction. Andy’s breathing is ragged from their kiss, but he does as he’s told, walking into the stall as y/n follows behind and locks it after she enters. 

“Have you been thinking about me at night?” She asks, moving to stand in front of him and slowly undoing the buttons on his jeans.

“Wait, what?” He questioned, his cock twitching as the tension of his jeans were removed, y/n pushing them down along with his boxers, his hard cock springing free against his chest.

“I said.” She gripped his cock in her hand, looking up at him. He was definitely way bigger than anyone she had ever been with, which made sense considering Andy was all man, nothing about him being boyish.

“Have you been thinking about me?” She asked again, his breath hitching as she started to pump his cock in her hand, barely being able to grip it.

“Y-yes.” Andy stammered, a groan escaping his lips as she continues to pump him.

“Tell me you want this Andy, and I’ll get down on my knees right now and give you release.” She met his gaze, a choked-out moan escaping his lips.

“Please.” Those were the only words she needed to hear before she dropped down to her knees, the cold tile soothing the heat coming off her body.

“Wanna taste you.” She preened, taking Andy’s cock into her hand and lapping gingerly at the tip. He could’ve come just from the sight of her before him, but he wouldn’t, he wanted to savor this moment.

Y/N held up his cock, licking a stripe from the base to the tip before suckling on the head, eliciting a groan from deep in Andy’s throat. She tasted the precum leaking from his tip, her thighs clenching together. This wasn’t about her pleasure; this was about Andy’s. And she wanted to show him just how seductive she could be.

Her lips curl around his girth, bobbing her head back and forth along his length. He’s not just thick but long, and she struggles to take him down, eyes watering as she brings her face closer and closer to his pelvic bone.

Her eyes look up to meet Andy’s as she pulls off him with a wet pop. “Is this what you wanted? To see my mouth stuffed full of your cock?” She pursed her lips, her core dripping underneath her skirt. 

“Yes, god you look so pretty down there. My little Lolita.” He praised, keeping his gaze on her. Her lips curl into a seductive smirk, batting her lashes at him.

“Want you to use me, I know you’ve thought about it. Want you to cum down my throat.” Her words urge him on, his hand grabbing a tight fistful of her hair and guiding her back down onto his cock. 

Andy’s not going to last much longer, bucking into her mouth and listening to the sloppy sounds of her gagging on his cock. It’s a beautiful song on her lips and he watches as some of the saliva from her lips runs down her chin and onto the floor. 

“Fuck, y/n, m’gonna cum.” As soon as the words leave his lips he’s steadying at the back of her throat, holding her on his cock as he cums deep down her throat, giving her no choice but to swallow. Y/N takes it in stride, swallowing all the sticky substance and milking his cock before letting go of him. She stands back up, taking her thumb and wiping against the corner of her lips, rubbing it across her bottom lip before straightening her outfit.

“It’s late, we should head back.” Y/N turns to unlock the door of the stall while Andy pulls his clothes back on, her eyes meeting a man who she hadn’t heard come into the restroom, standing at the urinal with his jaw agape. 

After leaving the bathroom Andy and Y/N burst out laughing about the man in the restroom, walking towards the front door of the club and out to the valet where they waited for his car. As soon as the man at the valet brings his car back, y/n slinks into the passenger seat, tousling her hair with her fingers.

“That was…” Andy trailed off, roaring the car to life and starting down the road towards home. Y/N leaned her head back, looking over at Andy. “That was a one-time thing.” She stated, looking back out the window.

“Are you sure about that?” He quizzed, stopping at the red light on the street and looking back at her. 

“Guess it depends on if you’re worth it or not. You’ll have to wait and see.”

Andy didn’t know why, but he wanted more. He wanted much more with her. She made him feel alive, feel young again. She made him feel wanted, something he hadn’t felt with his ex-wife in such a long time before their divorce. He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing her shivering in what little fabric that covered her skin. Bringing his hand into the backseat, he reaches out and pulls out one of his buttons up work shirts, handing it over to her.

“You’re cold, put this on.” She silently thanks him, pulling the shirt on and buttoning it halfway, the shirt smelling strongly of his cologne. They sat silently for the rest of the ride home, y/n looking out the window as they drove. 

After about five minutes of silence they arrived back at the house, walking through the door in the garage and into the house. She knows things are complicated now, but she doesn’t care. She’s lived her life free as a bird, boys wanting her but never acquiring her. What would be the difference now? 

“Thanks for coming to get me.” Her voice is soft and honest, turning to look up at him. They’re inches from each other again, Andy closing the distance this time to kiss her lips, y/n pulling back with a smile.

“Goodnight Andy.” She heads towards the stairs, turning back to look over her shoulder one last time at him. “Oh, and feel free to jerk off to thoughts of me any time.”

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @midnightf @my-divine-death @saamwilsonn @fierylibraa @fuckandfluff​ @rattlemyb0nes​ @rootcrop @goldenboysteve​  @turtoix​  @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​  @ccmarvelxx

[all-my-love-for-harry]

Watching Twilight with Harry.

summary: y/n forces harry to join her in her Twilight marathon.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none! just tons of fluff

a/n: alright, folks. here’s the result of me going through my Twilight phase again. Enjoy! also, i should turn into a series watching tv with harry lmao

You can find the rest of my masterlist here

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

Life was full with guilty pleasures. It could be a movie, a TV show, a food, even a celebrity. Y/N’s guilty pleasure was Twilight. She wasn’t sure why, but there was something about those movies that made her feel all blissful and excited, like she was a teenager all over again. And she enjoyed that.

Enjoyable things was exactly what she needed in order to not lose her mind during lockdown. Two months in and Y/N thought there was nothing else she could do that she hasn’t done already, so it was safe to say she was starting to feel a little trapped

One afternoon, Harry was out getting groceries and some other things they needed for the house and Y/N was just chilling in the living room, waiting for him to come back. As she scrolled down her instagram, she received a message from one of her cousins. It was just an inside joke about how they thought vampires were so cool when they were younger, and as she giggled, her brain clicked.

I wanna watch twilight. She thought.

Without giving it a second thought, Y/N turned on the TV and searched for the movies on Netflix. Deciding she’d watch the first one, she got comfortable on the couch before pressing play.

You see, everybody would agree the first movie of the saga was poorly edited and overall not that great, and although she’d cringe a lot during it, it was hilarious to watch years after it went out.

Y/N was so into the movie, almost drooling over Robert Pattinson, that she didn’t even hear Harry open the front door. “Babe?! I’m home!”

Harry’s voice snapped her out of her focus on the movie. “In the living room!” she answered. The curly-haired man gave her a dimpled smile before running upstairs to take a quick shower. Every time one of them went out of the house, they’d strip out of their clothes and take a shower in one of the guest bathrooms as a precaution.

He came back around twenty minutes later to put the groceries away and after doing so, he went to the couch and left himself fall next to his girlfriend making a ‘plop’ noise. “What are you watching?”

“Twilight.” She said, not taking her eyes off the screen but moving closer to Harry. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, letting her fingers play with his hand without paying much attention.

“The one about the vampires?” He chuckled.

“Yeah, did you ever watch it?” she finally turned to look at him. For a split second he thought about teasing her about watching cringy 2008 cliché movies, but he noticed the way her eyes were light up with excitement, so he decided to shut up.

“I watched the first one, but because of Gemma.” He said. “But never watched the other ones. There’s other ones, right?”

“There’s five of them, and we’re watching them all.”

“Are we now?” He asked, squeezing her a little.

“You just said you’ve never watched the rest, you bet your ass we’ll watch them now.”

“Ugh, fine. Just because I love you.” He cupped her face with his free hand, forcing her to look at him. He planted a sweet kiss on the top of her nose before letting her eyes focus on the screen again.

To be honest, Harry couldn’t care less about what they were watching, but what he did love was the comments Y/N would make during it. She’d throw jokes, make fun of the character’s choices or mannerisms and while some people find it annoying when a person couldn’t shut up during movies, Harry happened to love that about her. He thought that without those little comments here and there, he’d die of boredom.

“Edwards is so cute!” She nearly squealed. “I swear to god he was like, the love of my life when I was fourteen.”

“I think I like the Jacob guy better.” He stated.

“No, you don’t. He gets annoying in the next ones so be prepared.” They kept watching in silence, until Y/N’s favorite scene came out. “God, this was such a cultural reset.”

“Babe, they’re playing… baseball.”

“Iconic.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the last scene of Bella and Edwards dancing at prom. “Holy shit, that’s awkward babe.”

The first movie ended and Y/N was quick to put the second one and this time, Harry paid a little more attention because he hasn’t seen it before.

“Oh my god, why would he throw her to the freaking wall when he could’ve just pushed the other dude out of the way.” He said.

“Am I right? That was so dramatic.”

They reached the scene where Edward leaves Bella alone in the woods after he told her he didn’t want her anymore. “But he was lying right?”

“Yeah, he did it so she’d forget about him.” She said. “But homegirl was depressed. I swear there’s nothing more Twilight than having life changing conversations in the middle of the woods.”

Y/N cuddled closer to Harry, wrapping one of her arms around his torso. She had to admit New Moon wasn’t her favorite out of the whole saga, but it was just because she didn’t get to see Edward enough, and God knows how much Y/N loves some Edward Cullen screen time. However, Harry was pretty much enjoying himself.

“Of course she went with my man Jacob.” He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows when Y/N looked up at him.

“Oh my god.” She snorted. “I hate that he’s a minor and Bella is already 18.”

“The vampire is like, a hundred years older than her.”

“That’s hot.”

Harry let out a big belly laugh, having a hard time to catch his breath. Now, he couldn’t be jealous of her little teenage crush, and he actually found it quite adorable and hilarious at the same time.

“So she’s trying to get herself killed or something?”

“She’s trying to see Edward.”

“Why?! He felt her alone in the middle of the woods!”

“He thought he was doing the right thing!” She defended. “You know, I actually cried in the theater when I went to watch it. My sister doesn’t let that die.”

“Should I send a video to Molly when you start crying?” He teased.

“Don’t be mean.” She pouted. Harry copied her before pressing his lips on hers gently.

“Look, the vampires are back, yay.”

She giggled but turned back to the television anyway. It was the scene were Alice went back looking for Bella, then there was the scene were Jacob and Bella were alone in the kitchen and the phone rang.

“I hate this part.” She said, clinging into Harry’s arm.

“He made him believe she was dead.” Harry’s lips went into an ‘o’ shape, surprised. “Is he going to kill himself?”

“That’s his plan. Keep watching.” She told him. “God, poor Edward looked so bad.”

“Ooh, I like that car.” Harry pointed at the yellow Ferrari Alice stole in Italy. “Should we get a car like that?”

“To keep it in the garage until we can go out again?”

“I won’t be needing your services after all, gentlemen.” They heard Edward said.

“He says that like he was ordering his own murder on postmates.” Y/N scoffed, making her boyfriend laugh.

“Oh my god, he flies.” Harry said when the vampires started fighting and Edward was sent to the other side of the room.

They were reaching the end of the movie, were Bella made the Cullens vote to see if she’d become a vampire or not.

“If I were a vampire, would you turn into one for me?” Harry asked suddenly.

“Why are you the vampire? I have the most knowledge.”

“Baby, Twilight knowledge is not vampire knowledge.” He pinched her cheek.

“Whatever.” She scoffed. “And of course I’d do it. You’d be a pretty grumpy vampire if I wasn’t with you.” She gave him a playful smile.

“True.”

It was the last scene. Bella, Jacob and Edward were in to woods again, and the two men were going to start a fight.

“… Don’t make me choose, because it’ll be him. Is always been him.”

“Girl, same.” Y/N said.

“Heeeey.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows playfully.

Y/N put her hand on Harry’s thigh, knowing what was coming next.

“He’s gonna do it.” She squealed.

“Do what?”

“I have one condition, if you want me to do it myself. And then forever. Marry me, Bella.”

“Hell yes.”

“It ends like that?” He asked.

“Yep. Imagine having to wait another year to watch the next one.”

“Didn’t you read the books? You knew what’s gonna happen.”

“I mean, yeah. But what’s the fun in it if I can’t see Robert Pattinson’s face?”

“Alright, that’s enough for today.” He took the remote from her hands and hid it behind his back.

“Give it back, we have to watch the next one!”

“All I’m seeing is my girlfriend thirsting over a bloody vampire!”

“C’mon, I’m thirsty over you too.” She rolled her eyes.

“Now we’re talking.” Harry came closer to her so their faces were only inches away. He looked down to her lips then back to her eyes, smirking when he noticed her blushing. “You’re not too bad yourself, love.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He chuckled, giving her back the remote but not without stealing a little kiss from her. He went out of the couch and Y/N protested immediately. “Lemme go to the bathroom first, woman!”

“Don’t take too long, we still have work to do!”

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Hello and welcome to a mulit-chapter story! basic info: Tubbo-centric, talk of contracted murder that never goes to fruition, kinda deus ex machina-y

If anyone wants to be part of a taglist for Assassinate But Nah, feel free to message me/send an ask/or mention it in reblogs.

Taglist: @sleepysnails

Ao3 link

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

“Tubbo! My boy! You’re my favorite agent.”

Toby Maron pulls out a chair at a private poker table at Quacksino. “I really shouldn’t be honestly,” he says to the leader of the Jays, one of the Mafia groups in Houver.

“Of course you’re my favourite!” Schlatt says. He gestures to Quackity, who’s acting as dealer tonight, to deal this looks-younger-than-sixteen year old into the next round. “You’re a cop’s son? Those guys never get caught.”

Quackity slides Tubbo a packet of M&Ms before dealing in Tubbo, Schlatt, and his two main lackeys Slimecicle, and Ted.

Tubbo grimaces. “Right.” He opens the packet of M&Ms and separates them into the six colours, acting as the six chip types. “Why am I here?”

Slimecicle looks at his cards and slides Tubbo a folder. “Right here.”

“Thanks.” Tubbo looks at his own cards. “Ten.” He puts his cards down on the table and flicks a candy to the pot. He opens the file, he sighs heavily. “Another assassin job?”

“Oh yeah.” Schlatt grins like the two of them are in on a little secret. “That’s why I like you.” He throws in a chip. “Call.”

Tubbo skims the reference sheet in front of him. “Thomas Rough?”

“Call,” Slimecicle says.

Schlatt’s grin stays on his face. He takes a swig of beer. “What do you know about him?”

“Thomas Rough? He’s the son of Dan Rough.” Tubbo continues to skim the papers in front of him; blond hair, blue eyes, 6’3”. “Dr. Rough was a kid from the Teenage Mall District, bad place for a kid to grow up.” Tubbo thinks back to his memory of headlines and research projects. Dan made some big advancement in microbiology, I don’t know what though. He now has his own lab and a nice house in the suburbs. The Houver Mailer called him a ‘Diamond in the Rough’ in their series on him.”

“Good.”

“Call,” Ted says.

Quackity puts down the flop.

“Two hundred.” Tubbo throws in the equivalent amount of candy.

“Playing it safe are you?”

“Mhm. Shoulda said that with my ten.”

“Call.”

Tubbo continues to rattle off information. “Thomas Rough spends the first semester abroad at Oak Park Academy, a Swiss boarding school.” He glances up from the papers to Schlatt. “Nice. He comes home for Christmas break, then spends the second semester in a local public school: Granite Bay.”

“Something about balancing rich kid privileged education and being a normal kid.”

“Call.”

“I can understand that.” Tubbo eats a couple M&Ms.

“Hey! Don’t eat your chips,” Ted jokes. “Call.”

“Chips? These are chocolate.” Tubbo seems to remember that he’s talking to the top guys in the Jays and shuts up.

Quackity burns the top card and places the Turn.

Tubbo’s eyes flick up. “Add another hundred.” He flips the page. “Who’s this?”

Schlatt puts his elbows on the table and leans in. “Ranboo Alastair. Nothing special about him, but he’s Rough’s best friend during the half year he’s in the city.”

“Does he need to go as well?”

“No. You just need to befriend him while Rough it’s around.” Schlatt looks towards his men. “Call.”

“But will you dispose of him once I kill--”

“Assassinate.”

“Kill Thomas Rough? He’ll be able to point me out in a line up.”

“Ideally, he won’t know that you disposed of his best friend”

“Fold.” Slimecicle slides his cards to the burn pile.

Schlatt continues. “You know Eret?”

“Yeah. Informant on the drag scene.”

“Ranboo’s her little brother. Your mark is Thomas Rough, but befriending Ranboo will be a warning to Eret as well.”

“Killing two birds with one stone.”

“More like killing one, injuring another.”

“Fun.”

“Isn’t it! And you’re a police kid, nothing will happen to you.”

“But won’t Dr. Rough want answers to what happened to his son?”

“We’ll deal with that. You deal with Thomas Rough.”

“Call.”

The next card gets burned and the River gets flipped.

“Five hundred.” Tubbo puts the fold to the side and tried to read Schlatt, not that he wasn’t already doing that. “So I’m supposed to befriend Ranboo, hope that Thomas Rough keeps he around as a friend, then kill him?”

“Yes. Call.”

“Fold.”

Schlatt turns to Quackity. “Burn these. Flip a new five cards please.” He then gestures to Tubbo’s pile of M&Ms.

“One thousand.”

Schlatt looks at his cards once more. “Call.” He sits back in his seat. “We’ll be putting you in Public School, Granite Bay, as you mentioned. You’re junior year I think.”

“It would be,” Tubbo says wistfully.

“If you take it--”

Tubbo cuts him off, “If? I have a choice?”

“If you take it,” he looks Tubbo in the eye. “This’ll be your last job. I’ll be asking your father to overlook first degree homicide. Even his debts have limits.”

Tubbo thumbs at his cards.

Schlatt flips his. He gives Tubbo his first proper smile of the night. “Flush.”

“Blue-Eyes White Dragon,” Tubbo says. He takes great pleasure in how Schlatt is visibly thrown. “I’ll take the job, but my cover isn’t in this folder.”

Ted hands Tubbo another thin packet of paper.

“Tubbo Jacobs?”

“That’s your name for the next year. You’ll be living with Karl Jacob’s, chief editor of the Houver Mailer.”

“He works for you?”

“Yes. He’s getting redeployed on another mission next year, so once you get the job done, Tubbo Jacobs will disappear with him.” Schlatt grabs a few M&Ms from his winning pot. “And Toby Maron will be allowed to go back into public school.”

“But not Granite Bay.”

Schlatt nods and drops the candy in his mouth. “But not Granite Bay.”

Quackity taps Schlatt’s forearm.

“What is it Flatty Patty?”

“The kid wins,” he murmurs. “Hands off the pot.”

“What was that?”

“The kid wins.”

Schlatt scoffs. “The nerve of some people. Fine. Take your candy and chips. Get out of here kid.”

Tubbo puts all his papers back in the manila folder and slips it into his bag. “Yes Schlatt.”

“You have until the end of next summer to get it done.”

“Yes Schlatt.”

“Good boy. Remember. Do the job, and it’ll be your last one. Chicken out, and you’ve still got a few years ahead of you.”

“Yes Schlatt.” Tubbo picks up his chips but leaves the candy on the table. He pushes the chair back in behind him and goes to the counter to cash out his two thousand, three hundred, and thirty bucks.

 “Bye Sapnap.” Tubbo may be an unwilling assassin due to debt, and he may hate it, but he’s still polite. Tubbo walks into his house, eyes downcast. His dad, Captain Maron, is reading in the newspaper. “I’m back.”

He tosses down the paper and comes to hug his son. “How was your meeting at the Quacksino?”

“Good. Schlatt’s sending me to public school.”

“What?” Captain Maron holds his son by the shoulders. “Public school?”

“Yeah. Catch s I have another assassin job.”

Captain Maron’s face falls. “At public school?”

“Thomas Rough, he goes to Griante Bay second semester.”

“Oh.” Jordan’s expression flickers.

Tubbo doesn't have the energy to even try to decipher it.” On the bright side,” he tries, “Schlatt says that this is the last job I need to do for him. Something about debt limits and that you can’t prosecute me.”

His dad gives him a tense smile. “Did he really say that? Or are you paraphrasing for your old man?”

“That’s what he said, he was very clear about it.” Tubbo pulls away and heads to the kitchen. “But you can’t prosecute me. I don’t know what I’m going to do after though. I feel like Schlatt has been setting me up to go crawling back to him for a sense of purpose.”

Jordan looks at his son sadly. As one of the top cops, he’s seen a lot, and he’s seen that very story play out so many times before. “I’m sorry.”

“No. No. Don’t apologize. It’s grandpa’s fault for getting tied with one of the Mafia families. It’s not your fault. He’s the one who died with debt to the Jays.”

Jordan comes to hug his son again. “Get some rest. You’ll have time to brush up before the school year starts.”

“Yeah.” Tubbo grabs himself a bowl of cereal, directly opposing what his dad just suggested. “I’m a new transfer. Tubbo Jacobs. Starting tomorrow I’m going to be living with Karl Jacobs, but only until the job is over,” he reassures his father. “And Lani will still be at home. Think of it as an exchange; like I’m going to school in europe or something.”

“I just. I don’t like the idea of you living with Karl Jacobs,” Jordan admits.

“It could be worse. At least he’s got a proper office job. It’s a good cover.” Tubbo shovels a spoonful of cereal in his mouth. “Relax dad. I’ll be fine. I’ve been fine. I will keep being fine.” His gaze softens. “Besides dad, this case file tells me to befriend some kid. So I’ll get that experience.”

Jordan smiles at his boy and ruffles his hair. “Goodnight son.”

“Night dad.”

- - -

Jordan walks up the stairs and goes to the safe in his closet. He spins the lock and opens the door. He digs up an old photo album and pulls it to his lap. He flips through old polaroids of him and his two childhood friends.

He pulls the last photo out of its clear sleeve. Then flips it to the back and reads the mailing address scrawled on it.

He mutters it under his breath and puts everything back in its place.

Jordan goes to find a pen, a piece of paper, and an envelope. He writes out the address and starts to pen two letters.

Dear Philip Wright, I’ve been in some trouble with the Jays for the past six years. Sorry for not mentioning it earlier. You know me, I’m stubborn. I’m a cop. I thought I had it under control. I don’t. Most of the debt has been worked off, but if you could advise me on how to proceed. That would be great,” Yours, Jordan Maron

Dear Daniel Rough, Just got a tip that Tom is in danger. Yours, Jordan Maron p.s. sorry for never returning your requests to catch up

[youreacowgirllikeme]

After Class

note: so, I wasn’t really able to get that image of Jake as a college/university professor out of my head and this kind of happened, idk if it qualifies as an AU but anyway, here is Professor!Jake for you

(sorry for the grammar, non-native speaker here)

warnings: professor-student relationship, swearing, smut (fingering, oral), nsfw

“Shit, shit , shit.”

You ran through the empty hallways towards the lecture hall, the old clock on the wall telling you what you already knew: you were late, almost 20 minutes. And just because you overslept after working on that essay for your political history class till 4 am last night.

Professor Tapper would be so mad, he absolutely hated unpunctuality. Just the thought of him being angry or disappointed with you made you quicken your step even more, because Jacob Tapper was the very man you desperately tried to impress more than anyone else.

He usually worked as the lead political correspondent for CNN down in Washington DC, but, as he stated at the start of his first lecture, decided to take a sabbatical after the 2020 election, using the time to teach at his alma mater as a guest Professor.

He was brilliant, a walking history encyclopedia and was considered to be one of the sharpest political minds of the generation. His lectures were the perfect mix of both of those subjects, and he was throwing in a lot of his journalistic expertise as well. You admired him and truly enjoyed having him as your Professor. And you would’ve loved nothing more than to take in every single brilliant thing he said. But there was one tiny problem.

Because above all, he was hot. Like, please-bend-me-over-your-desk-after-class-hot. That very fact was often making it incredibly hard for you to pay attention to what he was saying, so you spent your lessons staring at his back, his hands, his face from the last row, letting his deep, smooth voice wash over you.

Even if he was more than 20 years older than you, you really had it bad for him, which was one of the reasons you lost sleep every night. That, and his very demanding curriculum.

Out of breath, you finally arrived at the doors of the lecture hall, opening them as quietly as possible, trying to sneak into the room without anyone taking notice of you.

“How nice of you to finally join us, Ms. Y/L/N“

Shit. He had noticed you.

And as you looked to where he was standing in front of the class you could see a deep frown on his handsome face.

He was, as usually, impeccably dressed, wearing a dark blue suit and his glasses, which were a personal weakness of yours.

It took a small cough from one of your classmates for you to stop staring at Professor Tapper and actually addressing him instead of undressing him with your eyes.

“I am so sorry for being late, Sir, it certainly won’t happen again.“ you stammered, feeling like you might faint from the embarrassment of the situation.

"I will certainly hold you to that. Still, come and see me after class to discuss this, please.“ he said, his stern voice and intense stare making your heart almost burst out of your chest.

He turned to the blackboard again, continuing to talk about McCarthyism, his deep voice carrying effortlessly through the lecture hall.

You were still beyond embarrassed that he called you out like that, and even more so because it was very likely that he caught you staring at him. You hastily made your way to the nearest free seat, fortunately this was a Dartmouth senior class and not Highschool, so there were no snickers or silly comments, you didn’t draw much attention.

You spent the remainder of the lesson trying to focus on the actual topic instead of how broad your professors shoulders looked in that tailored suit jacket, or how perfectly styled his grey hair was. Unsurprisingly, you had no success as your mind wandered even further down the dangerous path of attraction you had for Professor Tapper, thinking about the things those long, elegant fingers holding the chalk could do to you or what dirty words he could whisper against your skin with this sinful voice of his.

You were so caught up in your inappropriate daydreaming that you totally missed your Professor ending the lecture and dismissing your classmates.

You heard your name being called, and looked up, startled. Professor Tapper was standing right in front of your desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, staring down at you with an unreadable expression.

“We definetly need to talk about your attitude regarding this class, Ms. Y/L/N. Not only have you been late for the fourth time this month, your participation is severely lacking, to put it mildly. I...I don’t get it.” He said, his voice staring to get louder. He ran his hand through his hair, looking exasperated.

“Your submitted papers are extraordinarily good, your analysis is always spot on, and you find a way of comprehending the topics that no one of your classmates seem to grasp. And yet you spend each one of my lessons not paying attention, you’re not able to awnser any questions and you never partake in discussions. What is the matter? Am I boring you?“

He grew more agitated with each sentence, now leaning onto your desk with both arms and staring directly at you. If he only knew how far from bored you were in his class.

You felt like you were frozen, held in place by the way his eyes were looking straight into yours. His fingers were gripping the edge of your desk now, it took everything in you not to stare at the veins on the back of his hand. And, worst of all, you felt a blush starting to creep up your neck. You couldn’t get a single word out.

“I asked you a question, Ms. Y/L/N.” there was sincere anger evident in his voice now.

„I’m...I’m so sorry, Professor Tapper. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. It doesn’t come from a place of disrespect, because I have nothing but admiration for you...” you stopped yourself before saying something you might regret. You could feel your blush intensifying.

A look of realization flashed over your Professors face.

“Oh, so thats what this is all about, I see.” he murmured, and turned around, walking towards his own desk in the front of the classroom.

“I’ll make the necessary arrangements to get you transferred to Professor Coopers class. This situation is highly inappropriate and it can’t interfere with your academial career, I won’t allow it.”

You were shocked.

Quitting Professor Tappers class? Never having another lecture with him again seemed like an impossible thing to even imagine. Before you could stop yourself, you began to speak again.

“No, Sir, please don’t do this. I’ll get a grip on it, I promise. It’s a silly crush, I won’t act on it, ever. I’ll never be late again, and I’ll participate, I’ll respond to every single question you give me, just please don’t make me quit your class.” you pleaded.

Your professor didn’t answer, so you got up from your chair and made your way over to him, coming to a halt in front of his desk. He was looking at you, eyes dark, an almost pained expression on his face. You took the paper you spent all night finishing out of your bag, putting it on his desk.

“This is my latest assignment, please read it before you make your decision. I am really putting so much effort into my work for this class, and I can’t imagine going to another professor with my questions. Please don’t send me away.” You were almost begging now, desperation evident in your voice.

Professor Tapper sighed and took of his glasses, the motion making your heart go fast you felt arousal starting to burn in your lower stomach. He was too attractive for his own good. You realized, too late, that you said the last part out loud.

“Sorry.” you whispered, not daring to meet his eye.

“Ms...Y/N” he said, addressing you by your first name for the first time ever.

You looked up to him.

“What you don’t understand is that I can’t allow myself to teach you anymore, considering this new...development. I just can’t do it.”

He took another deep breath, looking as if he was under an immense amount of stress. His shoulders were tense, and the crease between his eyebrows was more prominent then ever.

“But why?” you cried, “we can act like this whole conversation never happened. Nothing has to change, I’ll do better, I promise!”

He slammed his palm onto the table, the loud noise echoing through the empty lecture hall.

“Because it takes every damn ounce of my self control not to throw you over this desk right now and have my way with you, so how the hell am I supposed to teach you every day knowing that this is exactly what you want me to do? Staring at me like you’re doing it right now? I can’t do it!”

he was almost shouting now, breathing heavily. He was leaning over his desk so that his face was just inches apart from yours, close enough for you to see the small wrinkles around his eyes and how his lips were slightly parted.

And then you just leaned over and kissed him. His lips were soft but unmoving under yours. He was absolutely rigid for a second. Then he groaned against your mouth, and one of his hands reached out to cup your jaw and pull you closer, deepening the kiss.

A moan escaped your lips, and he broke free, taking several steps back from you. He was breathing hard and you could see a bulge beginning to form in his suit pants.

“Y/N, you have to leave. Now. We can’t do this.”

But there was no chance you were throwing away this opportunity. You’ve wanted this man for months, and this was your shot. So you slowly circled the desk and stopped right in front of Professor Tapper.

Gathering all your courage, you put one of your hands on his arm...and let the other one brush against his tight, close to his crotch. He let out a hiss, but didn’t make an attempt to remove your hands. His body was tense, but his eyes were dark and full of desire. He clearly wanted this as much as you did.

“No one needs to know. “ you whispered. “We obviously both want this, we’re both adults and you’re not even responsible for my final exam. You’re a guest professor, plus my graduation is only two months away anyway. I’ve wanted this, you, since I first stepped into your class.”

This broke his last resolve, he surged forward and started kissing you again, harder this time, his hands roaming your back, going downwards and squeezing your ass through your skirt as he pressed you against the hardening bulge in his trousers. "Fuck...are you sure you want to do this?“ he groaned into your ear. You just managed a breathy „Oh my god, yes.“

He instantly grabbed your hair to tilt your head back and cover your exposed neck with kisses and nibbles, making your skin break out in goosebumps and heat coiling in your lower stomach. You could feel yourself starting to get wet, and grinded your core against his erection again, your hands fisted into the lapels of his suit jacket. You moved against him, causing him to groan again, the deep, rumbling sound only fueling your arousal.

Your hands were shaking as you started working on his fly, opening the zipper and palming his cock through his boxer briefs.

While he continued to kiss your neck, his hands found their way under your skirt and he quickly pulled your panties down. As soon as your hot center was exposed, one of his long fingers parted your folds, gathering wetness.

Two of his digits entered you in a swift motion and the feeling of his fingers stretching you was like heaven. He was stroking that special spot deep inside you with every move as he plunged in and out of your wet pussy.

You buried you head in Jacobs (yes, you started thinking of him as Jacob, which was fair enough considering he had his fingers buried inside you) shoulder, muffling your increasing moans as you felt your orgasm approaching. The familiar tingling started low in your belly and slowly spread into every part of your body as Jake continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you faster and faster, the heel of his hand rubbing against your clit in the most delicious way.

"I’ve wanted to touch you for so long, feel you come apart under me. Come on, darling, come on my fingers.“ he growled into your ear and bit your earlobe. That was the last straw and you came with a cry, your walls clenching around his fingers as pleasure surged through you.

Your knees were weak as you slowly removed your head from his shoulder to look him in the eyes. His blown pupils and heavy breathing were making it obvious that this was affecting him just as much as you, which was also evident from the very prominent erection that was tenting his boxer briefs through the open fly. He carefully withdrew his fingers and quickly wiped them on his pants.

"Wow“ you said, still trying to find your breath. "That was...amazing“

Your head was still spinning a bit from the intensity of your orgasm, but you were already thinking about how to repay him for making you feel so good.

You reached out your hand to palm his erection again, making him utter a low groan. Leaning forward, you whispered into his ear.

"Let me reciprocate, please.”

"You don’t have to-"

You broke him off with a small smirk.

"Please, I insist.”

Without hesitation, you dropped to your knees in front of him. He watched you intensely, sucking in a sharp breath as you looked up to him from under your lashes while you slowly pulled down his briefs along with his trousers. His erection sprung free, and you wasted no time, putting your hand around the base and slowly started taking the head into your mouth. You could feel his cock heavy on your tongue as you slowly sucked him deeper. One of his hands fisted into your hair and he started thrusting in and out of your mouth.

You put your hands onto his thighs for leverage, softly scraping you nails across his skin, which only seemed to spur him on, his thrusts starting to become deeper.

“God, Y/N, your mouth feels absolutely fantastic. You look so beautiful on your knees, sucking me off, taking my cock between your pretty lips.”

You almost couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of your usually so eloquent Professors mouth. Who would’ve known he could talk so dirty.

It turned you on, immensely, and you increased your efforts, taking him even deeper into your mouth. You could feel his thrusts starting to quicken, and even if it was getting harder for you not to gag, you were enjoying this slightly rough treatment.

"Shit, I’m- I’m going to come, Y/N.” he gasped, locking eyes with you.

You nodded your head as far as it was possible, signaling him to not stop. Instead, you wrapped your hands around his legs and swallowed his cock deeper until it was hitting the back of your throat. He let out a deep, guttural moan and tightened his grip on your hair almost painfully as he came inside your mouth.

You released him, wiping the spit from your lips and looked up at your Professor. He was a sight to behold, dark eyes, tousled hair, leaning against his desk as he was slowly coming down from his high. You spoke first, getting up from the floor.

“I...liked that.” you said, unsure of what to say exactly.

He took a deep breath and rubbed a hand across his face.

“It was absolutely amazing. But we shouldn’t have done it. The very last thing I want is to take advantage of you. You deserve to be treated right.” he said in a low voice as he was readjusting his clothing. Hearing him say those things made a warm, happy feeling spread inside your chest. He cared. This hasn’t been just some quick way to blow off steam.

“You treated me exactly right, please dont worry...Jacob” you said, testing out the unfamiliar first name. He just nodded, and then his arms were around you, pulling you into a tight hug as he pressed a soft kiss to your hair.

“Thank you so much. But if you want this to continue, I must insist that you transfer into Professor Coopers class. Please, Y/N.”

his voice was heavy with emotion and he released you from the embrace to look directly at you.

“I agree. And I very much want this to continue, so I’m gonna transfer. It’s only for a few more weeks anyway. But, and this is my condition, you have to take me out for dinner this weekend.”

“Fair enough. I’d love to take you out properly. And please, call me Jake.”

[youngerdrgrey]

the mile don't die club // a Batwoman oneshot

summary: Slight canon divergence for 2x08 where Ryan and Sophie chat post-Coryana, first right after and then again at the clinic. (Some angst but let's have some fun. This was a rough episode.) WildMoore + read on ao3 notes: Pretend with me for a moment that they don't have to think about the Kate of it all for, like, a split second after the Coryana meltdown, okay? Like the news of Kate being dead isn't a thing. We get to have a split second of fun. We open on the plane with Sophie and Ryan-as-Batwoman, while Jacob Kane flies them home.

Ryan winces as the turbulence jostles her again. The heavy shaking reignites the fire in her body. One particularly strong one sends Ryan away from the window and spilling over partially into the empty seat beside her.

Sophie quickly unbuckles and crosses the row to sit beside Ryan. She softly lifts Ryan from the half-bent position and props Ryan against her shoulder.

“Sorry,” Sophie says. “It’s been a while since he’s flown a plane.” She chuckles, but there’s a nervous edge under it. “I think I’ll stick to commercial flights.”

It’s not a good joke, but the fact that Sophie’s trying is a comfort. Why joke when the other person’s dying, right? Plus, talking kind of helps Ryan stay awake.

Ryan swallows around her tight throat to say, “This is my second flight ever.” A labored breath. “I’m glad to have done it before dying.”

“Whoa, Luke has a cure. You’re not dying. And you’re not giving up. Kate was… one of the best people I ever knew, and I’d really like her legacy to continue.”

It’s a more honest side to Sophie than Ryan’s ever seen with her own eyes. They’re shoulder to shoulder for the second time tonight. The view of the burning Desert Rose was definitely better than the inside of this stolen plane, but the warmth and steadiness of Sophie beside her is the same. Still comforting enough that it stops up her emotions like a lump in her chest. Ryan’s breath shakes around it. Sophie takes her hand again over the gloves of the suit. If Ryan has to die on this plane, let it be like this.

Her whole body’s heavy, tired, and she sinks closer to the comfort Sophie’s offering so willingly. “Don’t look.” She’s dozing off, so she can’t fully tell if she says it aloud. “You won’t… like me if you look.”

Sophie stares down at her, and her voice comes out soft and contemplative. “Why’s that?” But Ryan can’t get the energy up to answer. She shrugs.

🦇

Ryan jolts awake with a gasp. She yanks at the cowl when Luke stops her. His hands warm and steady on hers. “Hey, breathe. Batwoman , wait.” His eyes dart towards the door to the clinic hallway. “We’re not alone in the building.”

Her whole face crumples in confusion. “Who—”

“Sophie. She, uh, waited for you… to wake up.” He looks more confused than worried.

Ryan’s adrenaline kicks in for a moment of clarity. “Did she look?” If Sophie knows, then everything gets more complicated. Their begrudging partnership, their very real world problems.

Luke shakes his head. “I-I don’t think so. I feel like your secret’s safe. But she did want to see you so…. Can I bring her in or…?”

Ryan blinks a few times to try and clear her head. Take stock of the room. Luke’s closest to her. Right at her bed. Mary is near the door. Mary saved her. God, she loves Mary. Best friend / roommate / illegal doctor around. Mary smiles at Ryan.

“I’m all for it,” Mary says. Ryan doesn’t remember asking, but it makes sense that she might’ve asked something.

Ryan clicks back on the voice modifier in the suit. “Fine. Bring her in.”

The Sophie who enters isn’t the Crow that Ryan’s interacted with time and time again. This is someone unsure. Someone curious and nervous and worried in a way that doesn’t feel misplaced or condescending. It’s confusing to see the way that Sophie’s face splits up with relief at the sight of Batwoman sitting up in the bed. Also confusing — Ryan recognizes the worry. She’s seen this crinkle around Sophie’s eye, this tension in her jaw that snaps free with a tiny sigh.

How long has Sophie cared about Ryan? And would she look this visibly relieved if she knew it was Ryan under the mask?

Ryan shakes her head to clear the thought, but then Sophie’s crossing a few more steps in to be close to the bed. Mary and Luke stay guard, on either side of the room, and they cut glances between each other like they can’t decide if giving privacy would be better or worse in the long run.

“At ease, guys. I just… wanted to see with my own eyes that you’re okay.” There’s a roughness in Sophie’s voice, a graveled out roughed up core like she’s been worrying herself into a lower register.

Ryan nearly smiles. “Thanks to you. You, uh…”

“Saved your life?” Sophie offers with a grin. “Repaying the favor.”

Right. Ryan had chosen to save Sophie rather than keep the map to Coryana. It’d worked out well in the end, given that then Sophie could get Ryan back out of there.

“Consider us even.”

“I’ll consider it,” Sophie says, a tinge of humor in her voice, “but getting you all the way back here without endangering your identity…”

Ryan cuts her eyes to Luke, as her eyebrows shoot up. He can’t see it with the mask, but Ryan would love to spit an ‘I told you so’ to him. There’s always an ulterior motive with someone like Sophie.

Sophie shrugs. “It’s gotta be worth a drink at least.”

Ryan sputters. Mary squeaks on the other side of the room. As everyone turns to her, Mary quickly says, “She can’t drink on medication. Even with a magical cure all. It’s just, you know, normal… doctor… stuff.”

Sophie nods. “Of course. Another time then.” It’s not a question, but she does turn back to Ryan like she’s waiting for a response.

But Ryan’s stumped. How does she respond to something like that? She’d expected Sophie to be intense. Sophie’s always been this person who favors responsibility and all this stuff over everything. She only makes jokes when she has the upper hand. She literally got Ryan to spy on her ex and cost Ryan the latest take with Angelique. And now, what, she wants to be friends? Or is she looking to add another Bat-shaped notch to her bedpost?

It should make Ryan upset, but honestly, Ryan wonders which version of Sophie would be there if they got a drink. If Ryan were in the Batsuit, then maybe Sophie would be more open, more like… talkative maybe. But the suit would be so uncomfortable. It’d be better out of it. Better at The Hold Up, or on the couch in the loft. Sophie’s raspy voice giving way to a rough laugh, and Ryan could be as warm in front of a very different fire than the wild one on Coryana.

Ryan blinks the images away. Her face burns as her brows scrunch. She doesn’t even have a fireplace. Why would they need it? Where would they have that? On a vacation, just the two of them. No flying this time. A boat maybe. Wind in their hair, some nice bikinis.

Wait. “No.” Ryan shakes her head. “No, thank you.” She needs to clear her head, and having Sophie here right now is not helping. Especially not when Sophie smiles at her after Ryan says no.

Sophie nods. “Copy that. We can pass on the drinks. We’re not done — not with looking for Kate, or this conversation.” Then she turns to Mary and Luke and sort of nods, like giving them her okay to keep going. Ryan can practically hear the ‘Take care of her’ in Sophie’s stare. Mary nods back, clearly accepting the mission. And then Sophie’s gone.

They can hear her footsteps get further and further away. Hear the clinic door shut.

Mary’s got a shit-eating grin on her face. She does this sound that’s somewhere between a squeal and a groan as she crosses over to the bed. “I cannot believe Sophie just asked you out.”

Ryan’s thankful for the cowl still covering her flushed cheeks. “Yeah, well, I’m not interested in eating Crow.”

Luke snorts, which makes Ryan rethink her words. Mary full on cackles. Ryan sits up to throw the closest thing across the room at both of them.

“Eat! I said EAT! Not eating ou—“

“I didn’t say anything!” Luke says, but he keeps laughing. Mary too, and Ryan joins in. Ryan wills her brain not to procure any images to follow that train of thought. The last thing she needs is to start having sex dreams about Sophie. Though, if it’s between that and the kryptonite nightmares…. There are worse ways to go.

🦇

[seblaine-rph]

While you're looking into rps can we talk about Devereux Academy for a minute? A basic look at their main and rules reveals Kristin Stewart as an FC but she's asked repeatedly not to be used in rp, people getting originally tested for being Dom Switch or sub at 17, the rp wording is almost an exact replica of another rp that ran for a while, and they are allowing the Motta family to be whitewashed with a white Robert Pattinson FC. I'm sure theres more i was just too disgusted to keep looking.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been told to take a look at @devereuxacademy or heard about it being problematic. I can’t tell you about the dash and I’m not going to troll through everyone’s blogs, so if there is something on the dash that anyone would like to share with me (problematic plots, not tagging triggers, admin behavior,etc) then feel free to send another ask. 

More than one person came to me when this rp first hit the tags, asking if I thought they had stolen parts of their rp. I reported this by answering multiple different asks about it and they never responded, which is very telling. Honestly, I think they did. Intentionally or not, they do have a lot of parts of other, existing roleplays in their plot and there are so many copy and pasted things that it looks to be done on purpose. You can say, “but it’s a D/s academy rp and there’s only so many ways to rp in a school, so of course it looks similar to other rps of the same genre” except for the part where even academy rps have their own unique plot points, including the history of the world, social economics, and the school as well as the history of the administration. And that wasn’t the last time it was brought to my attention, or the only reason. I do see it, if we’re looking for my opinion on the matter of stolen plot content. I can see at least three different roleplays that were already in the tags for a long time, weaved together to make this group. I don’t really see anything that is original in the plot or worldview info, aside from maybe the intense details on IVF as the reason for there being so many triplets. Don’t quote me on that, though, it may have been used before. I just haven’t seen it. 

It weirds me out that they have all of their characters being thrust into nsfw situations before 18, with what should be an 18+ concept like BDSM, and at the same time they’re a discord rp as well as a tumblr rp. It says on their application that the characters are tested to find out which mark they are at 17. That’s a minor, being tested in a nsfw way because however you slice it BDSM and D/s are nsfw and nobody under the age of 18 can legally or morally be allowed to even dip a single toe in and that includes taking a test to find out what kinks they like and whether they’re going to want to be catching or receiving when it comes to sex. It just makes me wonder what’s being hidden in the discord. I’d also like to mention that they do have the option to play teachers as well as students, which is just weird and gross to me in this instance. The content is nsfw, clearly some students are going to get with teachers. It’s weird enough when it’s a sfw college rp and students do not smut with teachers, but being a teacher is a respectable character choice so I can see why you’d want to do it. If you were going to focus on talking to other teachers and developing plots with other teachers. In this instance though... the power dynamic between teachers and students are way different and there is a sexual overtone automatically because this is a kinky smut rp. You can also play a character as young as 21, which just makes me hope there are no relationships being written out by naive 21 year olds with their 30-40-50+, way more mature, could be their parent teacher. That might sound like I’m making up something that would never happen, but I have seen someone try to play a 62 year old lesbian that was predatory towards 19 year olds and even claimed one in a D/s rp like this. We all know how Glee rps work, we all know this line has already been crossed. We all also know why that’s gross- it’s an abuse of power and there is no way that a teacher/student dynamic could be cute because there will always be a sense of one person being way more mature than the other and being in a seat of power. Another reason to wonder what’s being hidden on this discord.

There are incorrectly casted families. In particular, I’m seeing POC families with fcs that should not belong because they do not match. I’d really like to know how it is that two Filipino girls and a black girl are twins. As a general note to the admins, you can’t erase half of someone’s ethnicity either. There are other families where one or more character is half right but also half wrong in an offensive way. And some families that are just wrong. I do give them props on some of this being right, but that doesn’t erase the other problems. You can’t whitewash people. Not all Asians are the same. Not all Latinx people are the same. Brown people aren’t interchangeable. Let me just list these so they’re easier to fix:

In the Adams family, Alex Newell is African-American but the fc has a sister that’s  British, Polish and Caribbean. That might be picking at straws but I always find it offensive when people pick and choose how to group ethnicities- like deciding all Asians are the same so they can be related. Either way, she’s over half white which doesn’t match up. 

Laura Harrier is Rachel Berry, she is half black and half white with Jewish background so that’s a really nice choice but then she’s twins with two Haliee Steinfeld fcs? Hailee who is Filipino... She’s also been accused of using the N word and being racist so she’s on a lot of people’s banned lists for the same reasons as Lea Michele. 

Brianna Tju is in a Chinese family but she’s half Indonesian. She’s also a Disney Channel star, so some people find that problematic from the start, because most of her resources are from kid’s shows at an age that is too young to be roleplaying. She’s only 22 now, which is old enough to rp, however the only real resources she has are from something that aired in 2015 and was likely filmed in 2014 or earlier. When she was definitely a minor. 

Kaya Scoldelario is Brazilian. She’s whitewashed by being placed in the Clarington family.

Zoe Deutch is Jewish. Her siblings are Matthew Daddario (Slovak, Italian, Irish, Hungarian, and English) and Haley Lu Richardson, who has a white background that doesn’t include Jewish. This is the Corcoran family as well, which should be Jewish, since they’re all related to Idina Menzel.

Victoria Pedretti is Jewish and she’s in the very white Evans family.

None of the older Fabrays are Jewish, and Ashley Johnson is Native American but also somehow a twin of the white Frannie Fabray.

Principal Figgins is played by someone that is Pakistani but the Figgins on the masterlist is played by Dev Patel, who is Gujarati Indian. 

Tyler Hoechlin is also partially Native American, but he is placed in the Flangan (Irish, like straight out of Ireland) family that has Rory recast as Thomas Dogherty (Scottish) with an Ariana Grande (Italian) twin as well. 

Kristen Stewart is on the masterlist but she has asked numerous times not to be used in roleplay because it makes her uncomfortable. I just covered this for another roleplay, and I’ve seen other people mention it, so it’s common knowledge at this point. She has been saying this for a long time. She’s also placed as the twin of Danielle Campbell, who is Mexican and Cajun French while Kristen is just white and the canon family member (Gilbert, so Adam Lambert) is Jewish.

Zendaya is also placed as a twin to Samantha Ware. Zendaya is mixed race, half black and half white, while Samantha is black. 

Yvette Monreal is the twin to Demi Lovato. Yvette is Chilean. Demi is Mexican and Portuguese. 

Avan Jogia is a Hart, but he is Gujarati Indian and white. He would be a better family relation to Dev Patel than anyone else on the masterlist and vice versa. As a refresher, Samuel Larsen (the canon fc for the Hart family) is Mexican, Danish, Spanish and Persian.

Maddison Jaizani is Iranian, but she’s listed as a Holliday which makes her related to Gwyneth Paltrow... a blonde, white woman.

Jacob Elordia is Basque and his sibling on the masterlist is Marie Avgeropoulos, a Greek actress. 

Rafael Silva is Brazilian, but he is a Lopez triplet, related to a Mexican-Irish sister (Lindsay Morgan) and a Mexican-Jewish sister (Alexa Demie).

Sugar Motta is played by Vanessa Lengies on Glee, an Egyptian actress. Her family is whitewashed with two white fcs, Kelli Berglung and Robert Pattinson. 

Kaylee Byrant is Japanese but she is twin to Madison Beer (Jewish) and Daisy Ridley (white).

The Puckerman family has lost its Jewish heritage. The only two on Noah’s side are Adelaide Kane (white) and Luke Pasqualino (Italian). Jake Puckerman has been recast as Justice Smith, who is half black and half white but is not Jewish. His sister is Samantha Logan who is half Trinidadian and half white and Pauline Singer, who is full Fijian.

Antonia Gentry is cast as a Weston. She is Jamaican, her listed twin is half white and half African-American. The newest acceptance for a Weston is for an African American fc. 

Lili Reinhart is on the masterlist, but she’s problematic. She’s defended the abusive behavior of her cast mate, Cole Sprouse, who was very publicly accused of sexual assault and abuse. She’s also been accused of blackface annnnnnnd she’s used queer baiting to get people to watch the show. (She teased a girl on girl relationship publicly, telling people to watch the show because they might finally get to see something between Betty and Veronica, knowing that the fans wanted it, but then when she was asked about it in a later interview she scoffed and acted like it was absolutely impossible and would never happen, some would say she even sounded offended by the thought-- which is what everyone got mad at Melissa Benoist for doing with Supergirl.)

David Corenswet is Jewish, cast with Emily Browning as a sister, who is not.

I applaud the Brazilian change for Lauren Zizes, but Ashley Fink was a welcome representation of plus size actresses and the new fc is less than half her size. She’s still plus size technically, but she’s “model plus size,” which is not at all the same as Lauren’s body type. I ran this by someone that this change would affect and they were not pleased. They were the one that pointed this out to me, because it bothered them as a plus size person to see one of the few plus size characters recasted with a skinnier fc. 

Dove Cameron is also on the masterlist, but she’s on a bunch of people’s banned lists. She replied to a fan that said they wanted her to notice them that they were stupid and had no life if that was one of their goals. She’s been rude to cast and crew on set. Dove has also been accused of throwing a fit and making the writers change the Descendants script to take the relationship that was written out for a black actress. She’s being accused of yellow fishing, which I believe is the term for trying to look Asian. She wore a Native American headdress in a cultural appropriation type of way. She’s been accused of being fatphobic and hiding behind photoshop on her social media while saying she doesn’t photoshop, so she’s giving off a false sense of reality to her fans. She’s been talking badly about someone that is trying to get their sexual assault story out there. The latest thing that’s come out about her is a rant about how mental health isn’t real and that people just need to logic their way out of depression? Which would be coming from a seat of high privilege. She wrote a series of tweets on the topic, calling negative mental health and the feelings they cause “a choice.” There’s a whole hashtag on Tumblr for her. 

I’m not at all surprised to see that all of the diverse characters are open. No Artie, no Unique- who could definitely be recast as an actual trans woman, now that we’re living in the age of recasting for reasons of problematic natures- if we can have a new Puck, new Finn, new Rachel, and new Santana why not an appropriate Unique? She is literally the only canon trans woman, why not treat her with respect? They recasted Cooper to better fit the proper ethnicity, so... 

[a-square-minus-one]

Honey 5

Sexual suggestiveness ahead. Please be aware that this story is Rated M and meant only for those 18 years and older.

“Your brother?” Nightwing asks, leaning back in his seat. Raven watches as his eyes glaze over. He’s running through plans in his head before she even gives him a full account of their opponent. Raven nods, although Nightwing isn’t fully paying attention at this point. She looks at all her teammates who are much more attentive.

“I will assume that you do not hold brotherly affection for this man?” Starfire asks. Raven nods again. 

“Trigon has fathered hundreds of sons after me, but the six following me are the most powerful. Each of their powers coincide with the seven deadly sins.”

“But there are only six of them?” Garfield asks, his folded hands are supporting his chin as he leans in close. 

“I’m the seventh,” Raven says. That stops the questions for a few moments.

“But you powers aren’t-” Cyborg pauses, rubbing his bald head. “Sinly?”

Raven quirks her eyebrows. “Shooting black energy from my fingertips not dark enough for you?”

“You know what I mean,” Cyborg grumbles. Raven nods.

“The pride within you is tangible to me; I can manipulate it,” Raven says, crossing her legs. The team looks at her with parted lips. It was like their questions hung like weights on their lower jaw. She sighs. “I can play with the levels of pride in you so that it obscures all other systems. Biological. Mental. Emotional.”

“Wait, so you can sense how proud we are?” Garfield asks. Raven nods. “You must have a joy ride with boy wonder over there.” 

Nightwing scoffs. Garfield lifts his hands up, not even trying to erase his crooked smile.  

“Why have you never used this power before?” Nightwing asks, finally escaping the wheel that’s turning in his head.

“Why haven’t I turned someone into something they’re not?” Raven asks, hoping that in asking the question, Nightwing already found his answer. Nightwing seems to understand her as he leans back in his seat. Raven still feels the need to answer as the rest of her team stares at her expectantly.

“The villains we face rarely have a deficiency in pride. Besides, pride is a tricky thing. Given too much you will become foolish and illogical, convinced you have the right answer to everything. But given just enough,” Raven lets her eyes linger over Nightwing. “You become a detail oriented, confident leader.” Nightwing bows his head gracefully.

“The thing is, there is no set amount of pride that divides the foolish people from the well adjusted. Most of us have momentary spikes in our pride. There is no telling whether these spikes are good or bad. It’s dependent on how people use it. I don’t have the foresight to tell you how someone will react if they’re made more proud.”

“‘Cept for Adonis,” Garfield says, then blushes when all eyes turn to him. “What? That guy is always one spike of pride away from falling on his own sword.” Raven ponders that and shrugs.

“I’m not in the occupation of guessing someone’s limits. Besides it’s different when he’s in animal form.”

“How?” Garfield asks, leaning into the conversation. Raven pauses.

“My ability to sense emotions works best on humans.”

“You are able to sense mine,” Starfire chimes in. Raven nods at her.

“Things like happiness and sadness essentially feel the same in all beings. Between full human beings, the difference in how they feel emotions is almost imperceptible. But your body is wired differently. You’re Tamaranean and I have not enough access to Tamaraneans to get any baseline data on what your emotions read like. For example, your powers are connected with your ability to feel happiness. You practice happiness constantly, therefore your happiness is more potent. Because your happiness is so loud, it can be difficult for me to register the extent of your sadness.”

“It must be difficult to sense what I’m feeling,” Garfield says in a thoughtful whisper. Raven looks at him. “Every animal I turn into has different motivations. Some of them can be very strong.”

“Your animal forms are never permanent. While you can rearrange your DNA, it’s never fully stable. Your body will always want to revert to your human form,” Raven says. When she thinks about it though, Raven knows there is another form always pulling at Garfield’s control. She purses her lips, pausing to figure out where she’s going with this.  “No matter which form you take, there is always something essentially you that I can sense clearly because I know...well I know you.”  Garfield looks at her. Raven clears her throat. 

“And I know Star,” Raven says, moving her gaze from Garfield to Starfire. “I can sense what both of you are feeling but sometimes it can be a little harder for me to give it a name.”

“So the brother on the footage? Which is he?”

“Jesse. Envy.” 

The team is silent for a while. 

“Alone they’d be dangerous. Together, coupled with someone who understands centuries of mystical arts…” Raven trails off. Nightwing nods two times, evenly, militaristically.  Every once and a while Raven has to marvel at how certain Nightwing can be about things completely out of his element.

“Why are your brothers attacking now?” Nightwing asks in a way that makes it clear to Raven that not knowing is not an option. She pauses.

“My brothers’ motivations are tied directly to my father’s.”

“Cool so we’re up against old ass magic dragon, sin and evil incarnate,” Garfield runs a hand through his hair, tugging at his roots a little. 

“We need to cut this plan off at the roots,” Nightwing says, ignoring Garfield’s comment. “We start with Trigon.” Raven’s is rarely overcome with emotion but she has to fight to trap the sardonic chuckle bubbling from her chest behind her closed lips.

“Trigon is trapped in another dimension,” Raven says with a finality that would make anyone else drop the subject.

“So was Malchior,” Nightwing says quickly. His four teammates snap their heads to him. “Sorry,” he mumbles, looking to the floor.

“You’re not wrong,” Raven says after a moment, then shrugs one shoulder. “But Malchior’s escape is much easier than Trigon’s. Very few beings are able to traverse multiple planes of existence and even fewer are able to go where I put Trigon. Setting him free would be a marvelous feat indeed.”

“Never underestimate your enemies,” Nightwing says, pressing a fist into his palm.

“I don’t. I don’t deny that my brothers are more than likely searching for a way to free my father but he is not yet a part of the equation. We start with my brothers.”

“And if they manage to free your father?” 

“Then at least we won’t have to deal with evil incarnate and sin and an old ass magical dragon,” Raven says. Garfield raises his hand for a high five. Raven looks at it before tapping away at the touchscreen in front of the team. Garfield grumbles.

“We need to get supplies to protect ourselves and the tower from sinful influe-”

“Hate to interrupt sister but you were all moving at such a snail’s pace.”

Raven pulls up a protective barrier around her friends before they can even register that someone else is in the room. The man in front of her doesn’t even blink as he plops down on the sofa. Nightwing moves forward purposefully but Raven pushes him back with her powers.

“Leave the barrier and he will play with you like a toy.”

“Now, now, pretty vessel you know we can only enhance people’s natural inclinations,” Jacob says, propping one leg on the back rest of their sofa while the other hangs limply off the edge of the seat. He is sprawled out like a Greek god. His head rolls back. “May I say, this is quite the incestuous little family you have. The lust was rampant when I walked in the room. Although I shouldn’t be surprised Malchior has spoken of your...appetite.”

“Why are you here?”

“Oh why don’t you just drop the barrier? It’s not like you can hold it for much longer anyways. Besides, playing with your friends is not why I am here.”

“You expect me to trust you?” Raven’s voice wavers under the strain of protecting her friends. Even now she can feel Jacob probing the weakest parts of her barrier. 

“No I suppose not,” Jacob says, sending the group a crooked smile. He runs his hand slowly up his leg, over his muscular thigh, and drops it dangerously close to the bulge in his unitard. Then he chuckles.

“Our brothers have sent me to ask you to join our endeavours in freeing our father.” “I’d rather die.”

“Ah I said much the same to them. You are much too proud,” Jacob chuckles. It sounds like a bell. 

“Original.”

“Ooh your sentences are getting much shorter. I bet I could push through this barrier of yours now,” Jacob says, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically and sitting up properly in one quick, smooth movement. He eyes Nightwing from head to feat. “I’ve pushed through my fair share of barriers in this lifetime.” 

Jacob winks. Raven clenches her teeth.

“Alas, I don’t feel much like straining myself today although I can assure you my brothers do not know the same restraint. They wanted me to force you to join our side. But I think your high and noble friends wouldn’t let you turn yourself over to us even if I did say...peel their skin off in front of you,” Jacob says. He reaches for a lollipop in the candy basket they keep in the common room and peels off the wrapper. He swirls his tongue slowly over the confection. “Well, I will not waste my energy.” 

Jacob eyes run over the Titans one by one, watching as their muscles twitch with the desire to hurt him. He feels like laughing.

“Protect your tower, conduit. Protect your friends. But as I tell all my lovers, be prepared for the full weight of us.”

Jacob moves to walk out their front door and Raven feels her barrier weaken significantly. Before he leaves Jacob looks over his shoulder with a lascivious smirk.

“And do try to lay with the green one at least once. Your thirst for each other is simply pathetic.”

Jacob leaves.

[nobodyfamousposts]

Twilight Spite: When the Tables Turn

Well, since Midnight Sun is coming out later this year, I figured I’d dust this off and share a “what if”.

__________________________

Nobody quite knew what to say to Leah’s announcement.

“Bull.”

Well, almost nobody.

“Sam.” Billy Black called, a warning in his tone.

But the alpha didn’t seem to hear him, remaining resolute as he glared at Leah. “There’s no way that it’s true.”

“Well, it is.” Leah replied with a smile that totally wasn’t a smirk as she watched his growing outrage. It said something when not even the touch of his precious imprint could calm him. Leah could practically see the fur starting to form on his skin as he barely held back his transformation.

“You’re making it up. She has to be making it up.” He insisted, turning from Leah to the rest of the Council, his words taking on an almost pleading lilt as he looked to them for support.

But the Council members seemed hesitant. Uncertain, even. Because…well…it could very well be true.

“I assure you, I was just as surprised as you when it happened.” Leah proclaimed sincerely. Because, well, she had been surprised.

___________________________

“Hello, Leah! We come in peace! And with a special offer just for you!”

It all started with an appearance by an overly cheerful vampire bearing an offer she couldn’t refuse.

Well, that wasn’t quite true. Everything really started with her boyfriend disappearing, then coming back only to break her heart and dump her for her cousin she just met, and said cousin deciding it was totally cool to break her heart further by getting with him regardless. The whole reservation cheering them on certainly hadn’t helped. Nor had turning into a wolf and having to have their “happy relationship” shoved in her face AND her head. Nor her father’s death, which seemed to be her fault for reasons she hadn’t known of and couldn’t control, and no one would so much as give her time off to grieve for. Being used simultaneously as a scapegoat and wank material for a group of teenage boys was just the fucking cherry on top.

So yeah, the unexpected visit from the leech wasn’t technically where it all started.

Just where it finally started getting good.

Alice was…perky. Annoyingly so. The more time she spent in her presence, the more Leah was certain that was as much of a permanent, unchangeable aspect of her personality as her annoying and incessant need to know and control things.

Leah was apparently another thing to control. If that wasn’t a common trait shared with everyone else in her life, Leah would find herself particularly insulted and ready to attack.

As it was…well…at least Alice had an offer to make it worth her while.

Given that this offer was coming from the enemy of her tribe, the obvious answer shouldn’t have just been “no”, it should have been a clear and resounding “hell no” followed by a death gurgle. But Leah’s tribe hadn’t been the most loyal or supportive by this point, what with the cheating and disparaging comments and the constant degrading of her when she’d already suffered so much because of them. So no, Leah wasn’t feeling particularly loyal in return.

To the contrary, she was feeling particularly petty and vengeful—which they all knew and not only did nothing to help, but actually went well out of their way to encourage and nurture within her. So really, it was their own fault if she made the choice to give them the finger.

So that was why she decided to at least listen to the leech’s offer.

And oooooh, what an offer it was.

It was no secret that Leah….kind of hated her life at the moment. And could anyone blame her?

…okay, yes. They clearly did. Acting like what Sam and Emily did was HER fault, that them leaving her was deserved, and that her transformation—a traumatic experience for her, by the way and one that cost her her father’s life through no fault of her own—was something she should be happy with. So regardless of the situation and how much she never wanted it, she should just “shut up and deal”.

But could anyone who WASN’T part of the “all boys’ club”, only there for the free—if plastic-like food from Emily, or otherwise had their heads up Sam’s ass blame her?

Alice couldn’t, surprisingly enough. And maybe it was all a trick to get her guard down and have her help their enemies, but it kind of said something when the freaking soulless vampires offered more sympathy for her situation than her own family.

Yeah, thanks Mom. Thanks, Seth. THANK-FUCKING-YOU, EMILY. REALLY appreciated the support during her time of need. Always great to have your family with you...on the other side of the house, setting up dates with your father’s best friend, gushing about how “awesome” your ex is after he crushed your heart, and picking out wedding dresses to be married to your ex in not even a year after he dumped you for her. Family of the fucking year, let her tell you.

And yet she couldn’t help but love them still. How sick was that?

It was messed up. The whole situation was. She couldn’t deal with it there, not with them, not while everyone just wanted her to shut up and smile like she wasn’t being torn apart inside.

So when Alice approached her with a promise to help, Leah found herself surprisingly willing to at least hear her out. She expected to laugh at whatever she offered. She expected to tear her a new one. She even expected to go to the Council and warn them of the trick.

She…never expected she’d be agreeing to it.

“We don’t want a war.” Alice assured her, pleading. “We like Bella. And we like it here in Forks. We don’t want to fight. But the Volturri know about Bella now, and they are insistent she HAS to become a vampire to preserve the secret or else THEY will kill her, and possibly all of us.” She let out a breath, looking up at Leah in worry. “And possibly your people as well once they discover you.”

Okay, she had a valid point. But…

“Why not just go to Sam and the Council about this?” They were all about “keeping the peace” over all else—Leah was on the receiving end of THAT well enough to know. So surely they would be on board with this one sacrifice to keep everyone else safe.

“It’s the truce. We can’t come onto your land. And the wolves we’ve spoken with have been…very insistent on us not turning Bella.”

Ah, Jacob. Yeah, sounded about right. The brat had been doing nothing but moaning about Bella and her preference for dead guys who could give her immortality and a fancy life over him and his…him. Even in the same breath he shot snide comments at Leah for losing the relationship she—y’know…ACTUALLY HAD.

Not that she was resentful about the blatant bias and double-standard or anything as everyone coddled him for a relationship with a girl that was clearly never “in” to him in the first place. Not at aaaaaall…

“Why come to me with this then?” Surely they had to know that she…wasn’t exactly a pleasant person to work with right now. Even—especially with her own people, much less outsiders. And that out of everyone, she would be the least inclined to work with the monsters directly responsible for her people turning into wolves and effectively ruining every aspect of her life because of it.

YES, she was still bitter about it. And she would be for a long time. Maybe the tribe should invest in some therapy instead of a new house for the “happy couple”?

“Because you’re the best choice, Leah.”

AKA, “I used future sight and this was the result I liked.” Leah wasn’t sure she liked the idea of placing bets with someone who used visions for everything the way most people use their cell phones.

“You’re clearly not happy here, but you can’t do anything about it. We could help each other!” Alice explained, rocking on her heels. “I know you don’t like us, but you don’t want a war anymore than we do.”

There was a tense pause.

Then Leah sighed.

“Fair enough.”

Alice cheered up at that, smiling widely. “Great! So if this works, we’ll take you with us when we leave Forks in the next year. We’ll give you money and documents—anything you need to set up a new life! You could go to college! Ooo! You could go to a really fancy university and get a fashion degree and become a model and marry a rich socialite and—!”

Okay, cutting that off right now. “And in exchange?”

That got a frown—though whether it was because she cut off Alice’s gushing rant or because it reminded her of just what she was asking Leah to do, it was a bit hard to tell.

“In exchange, we need you to do just one thing…”

___________________________

“You can’t be serious, Leah.”

“Dead serious.” Leah replied, cackling madly on the inside. But on the outside, her eyes seemed to shine with a joy that anyone could be convinced was because of her claim. A claim that had half of the room sending one another glances of abject confusion, and the rest of the room as some variant of enraged and—in Emily’s case, probably secretly happy.

“It’s just…it’s not possible!” Sam insisted, sounding almost desperate.

“Neither was a female wolf, and yet here we are.” She said with a blithe shrug.

She’d been bitter and “a harpy”. Everyone knew it. Everyone held that against her, regardless of the reasons all of them knew yet none of them wanted to acknowledge were wrong. Even those that sympathized were pushing her to simply “get over it”, completely blind as to why she was acting the way she was.

It was only because she was stuck in a situation forced on her—one where she was trapped and degraded and imposed upon in every way possible, and forced to defend herself the only way she could.

But now she could fight back.

And by every single god out there, she was damn well going to use it. Even if she had to lie through her teeth. Even if she had to fake feelings she didn’t have for someone she didn’t like.

If that meant getting some sweet SWEET payback on her ex? And throwing his own actions and justification for those actions back in his perfect little face? Well…

“I imprinted on Edward Cullen.”

Watchu gonna do about it? 

[livesincerely]

it’s beginning to look a lot like... ch.3

Also on Ao3. Chapter two here.

00000

The Sixth Christmas

Jack nudges the door shut with his shoulder, stopping to stomp his boots against the mat in the entryway before making his way into the kitchen. 

His boys have been plenty busy in the half hour he’s been gone: Davey, Tony, and Charlie are gathered around the kitchen table in what has clearly become the designated Latke Zone. Charlie is sitting on top of the table, grating the last of the peeled potatoes, his brow furrowed in careful concentration, and Davey’s talking Tony through dicing an onion, instructing, “—and you keep your knuckles curled under like this, see, so you don’t cut your fingers.” 

The scene is underscored by the soft hum of Christmas carols playing on the radio and the flurry of snow visible through the window. Jack lingers in the doorway for a moment, a smile spreading across his face of its own accord as he takes it all in, fingers itching for a pen and paper. 

He shakes the daydream away.

“Delivery,” Jack announces, setting the grocery bags on the counter top. 

“Hey, Jack,” Davey greets, then has to catch Tony’s wrist in his hand when he starts to wave while holding his knife. “Careful, Tones.”

“Sorry,” Tony says sheepishly. “Hi, Jack.”

“How’s it goin’?”

“Pretty good so far,” Davey says letting Tony get back to his task. “I think we’ve almost got everything ready. Did you have any trouble finding the schmaltz?”

“I think I got whatcha wanted,” Jack says, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. Davey had given him the name and address of the kosher butcher he’d needed to go to and told him exactly what to ask for, and yet he’s still worried he’s messed it up somehow. “But I can run back out if it ain’t right.”

Davey peeks into the grocery bags, unearths the container, and gives an approving nod. 

“Perfect,” he says. “Thanks Jackie.”

It’s a little embarrassing how quickly those simple words make the flutter in Jack’s chest steady and settle.

“Yeah, no problem,” he answers.

“Davey, is this enough potato?” Charlie pipes up, shaking a cramp out of his hand, gesturing at the mound of potato piled in front of him.

Davey moves over, staring down at the mass with a critical eye. 

“Yeah, that should be plenty,” he says, scooping the potatoes up and dumping them out onto a dishtowel. 

“I think this is done too,” Tony says, carefully scraping the bits of onion that have stuck to his knife off onto the cutting board. 

“Looks good,” Davey says. He sweeps a few stray potato pieces off of Charlie’s shirt and into the trash can that’s been positioned next to the table, leans down to press a quick kiss to the top of his head, then goes back over to Tony and gives him the same treatment. “Great work, boys.”

“Do you need anythin’ else?” Tony asks, glowing faintly at the praise.

“I think I’ve got it from here,” Davey says, ruffling his hair. “But thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome,” Charlie chirps with a wide smile, hopping down from the table.

“Welcome,” Tony echoes. “Can we watch TV now?”

“Wash your hands,” Davey reminds them, spreading the onions out onto the same dishcloth with the potatoes, folding the mixture up in the towel and patting the moisture out. “But go ahead.”

As the boys skip away, Jack steps into the bit of clear space at Davey’s side. 

“Anythin’ else need doin’?” he asks.

“Can you grab the eggs for me?” Davey replies. “And the flour and the baking powder?”

“Got it.”

Davey gets the batter mixed together, seasoning it all with a good helping of salt and pepper, then carries the bowl into the kitchen, the container of schmaltz tucked under his arm. He sets a cast iron skillet on the stove and turns on the eye, scoops out a hardy spoonful of fat and lets it melt, then pours some oil over top.

“It’s good of you to do all’a this,” Jack says, as Davey drops the latke batter into the pan with a sizzling hiss. 

“It would’ve been good of me to remember to ask Mama if I could borrow some of her schmaltz before we left last night,” Davey says with a scoff, prodding at the batter with his spatula, flattening the drops out into little disks. “Then I wouldn’t’ve had to send you out to the store in this godforsaken weather.”

“Nah, I don’t mind,” Jack says, shaking his head. “I mean, you’re the one that’s doing the hard part. And when you didn’t have’ta.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Davey says, adjusting the temperature of the eye. “I just hope they turn out alright. Mama has this way of getting them perfectly crispy on the outside while keeping the insides soft⁠—I haven’t quite mastered it. But hopefully the boys won’t mind.”

“They’ll like them because you’re the one making ‘em,” Jack says, trying a different tactic. “Because you’re making ‘em special, just for them.”

“Well, they asked me to,” Davey says simply, still not getting it. “It’s not like I mind.”

“But you’re still goin’ outta your way,” Jack counters. “I mean, they gorged themselves on the things last night, practically ate your folks outta house and home, then woke up this mornin’ beggin’ for more, and even though we didn’t have the ingredients for ‘em, plus the fact that Hanukkah ended yesterday and half the city’s closed for Christmas, you still made it happen. I’m jus’ sayin’, it’s a nice thing to do.”

“Jackie, it’s just latkes,” Davey says, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t need to thank me, or whatever it is you’re trying to do⁠—”

“But I do need to thank you,” Jack insists, frustrated with his inability to get his point across. “I do ‘cause it’s… because I…”

He doesn’t know how to explain, doesn’t have the words to encapsulate how nice this all is, how different, yet familiar, and impossibly better this holiday season has been than all the others: how great it was to have someone to help him with holiday shopping, how much he loved getting to hang strings of blue and white lights across their balcony and put their first Christmas tree up in the living room, how every time he sees Davey’s menorah sitting on the coffee table with his and the boys’ stockings hanging on the wall behind the couch, he can’t help but smile, how strange and exciting it was to get roped into⁠ the Jacobs’ Hanukkah traditions—not asked, not invited, but folded right in, like it was never a question at all⁠ that he and the boys would be a part of it all—how he’d nearly cried last night, watching Les walk Tony and Charlie through their first game of dreidel, because he’s just been so desperately happy that he feels like he might burst with it.

And right at the center of it all is Davey: the best friend and co-parent and partner that Jack could’ve ever wanted or asked for. He’s so thankful, every single goddamn day of his life, to have Davey at his side. 

Jack wants to tell him, wants him to know how deeply appreciated he is, but he can’t figure out how to phrase it. There just aren’t words to encompass the depth of this feeling. 

How could there be?

But Davey looks at him and seems to read the heart of the matter right off of Jack’s face. His expression softens, his eyes warm with tender affection, and he curls his free hand around Jack’s forearm and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s okay, Jack,” he says with a soft smile. “Really. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” Jack says hesitantly. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Davey promises. “You and Tony and Charlie? You’re family. You don’t need to thank me.”

Jack swallows heavily, throat thick with sudden emotion. “Alright,” he whispers.

Blinking through the sting in his eyes, he continues, “Uh... speakin’ of family, are we still goin’ back up to your folks’ place for New Year’s?”

Davey watches him a second longer, a hint of concern in his gaze, but he lets Jack change the subject without comment because he’s good like that. 

“That’s what Mama said when she called this morning,” Davey answers, sliding the first set of latkes out of the pan and onto a wire rack to drain. “Though, she mentioned that if the weather ends up being bad, then she’d understand if we decided to stay in.”

“Are we supposed to be getting a lot more snow?” Jack asks, confused.

“Like, two inches, maybe, the night before,” Davey says. “I tried to tell her that, even if it does snow, the roads and sidewalks would be clear by New Year’s Eve, but you know how she is.”

“Well, we’ll see how it goes,” Jack says, fingers creeping casually towards the fresh stake of latkes as Davey gets the next set frying. 

Davey slaps his hand away without a hint of mercy. “Don’t even try it, Kelly.”

“Aw, Dave,” Jack whines. “Where’s your holiday spirit?’

“Holiday spirit isn’t gonna keep you from burning the shit out of your mouth,” Davey says. “There should still be some gelt in the cabinet above the fridge if you want something to snack on while these finish.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Jack says. 

He finds the bag of chocolate coins and immediately unwraps three of them and crams them into his mouth. 

“Do we need to bring anything?” Jack asks. “That’s like, the thing to do, it’nit?”

“We could bring a small something,” Davey says, working his spatula under a latke and flipping it. “Mama will have the mains covered, but we could bring cookies or chips? Maybe a liter of soda? I’ll ask her when she calls next.”

“Or, we could make somethin’ too, couldn’t we?” Jack says.

“Do you want to make something?” Davey asks, stealing a piece of gelt from Jack’s pile, tearing away the foil, and placing it right on the center of his tongue with a teasing smirk. Jack’s stomach jolts and jitters. “We can if you want to.”

“I could make a pan of cheesecake brownies,” Jack suggests, opening up another piece and offering it to him, watching the way Davey’s lips close delicately around the chocolate coin. “The ones I made when we first moved in? Do you think they’d like ‘em?”

“Those were fucking fantastic,” Davey says. “If they don’t like them, I’m perfectly fine eating them all myself.” He pauses, head tilting to the side. “You should make extras, so we can keep some here.”

Jack laughs. “Okay, remind me to get extra butter when we go to the store next and I’ll handle it.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Davey agrees, turning to Jack with a smile⁠—a gorgeous little thing that lights up his whole face⁠—and as he does, Jack notices a dark smudge on the side of his mouth.

“Oh, wait, you’ve got a bit of chocolate...” Jack says, reaching up without thinking about it, and he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until after he’s already dragged his thumb across the corner of Davey’s mouth, stopping to rest right on the fullest part of his lower lip, his forefinger curled under Davey’s chin.  

Davey looks back at him, his expression slack with surprise and his cheeks a bit pink. He’s probably wondering what the hell Jack is doing. Jack’s wondering much the same. 

“There,” Jack rasps out, finally connecting the broken fuse in his brain that’s responsible for all his terrible, terrible decisions and dropping his hand from Davey’s face. “That’s better.” 

What Jack should do next his wipe his hands clean or give ‘em a quick rinse in the sink or, hell, take a cleaver and chop ‘em off at the wrist⁠—anything except for what he does next, which is his stick his thumb in his mouth and swirl his tongue around it, licking it clean. 

Davey’s eyes go a touch wider, his face flushing that much deeper. He clears his throat a few times, looking distinctly flustered⁠; Jack can’t even imagine what he’s thinking⁠—he’s probably embarrassed on Jack’s behalf.

“Thanks,” Davey eventually gets out.

“No problem,” Jack breathes back.

“Uh…” says Tony. 

Jack stumbles back a step, his and Davey’s heads whipping around to look: Tony’s standing just behind them, eyes darting back and forth between him and Davey. He holds up the glass in his hand, which is almost empty. 

“I need some more juice?” Tony says, but his voice lilts up at the end in question.

“Sure,” Jack says, running a hand through his hair. The back of his neck feels hot, his heart pounding against his ribcage. “Yeah, sure, bud.”

“So, can I get into the fridge?” Tony asks.

“Go ahead,” Jack says.

Tony looks at him like he’s a complete moron. “Jack, you’re blocking the fridge.”

“Right,” Jack says, moving to the side. He accidentally bumps into Davey and his hands dart out instinctively to steady him, but he rethinks the impulse mid-motion, diverting at the last second and stuffing his hands in his pockets instead. “Sorry! Sorry, I’ll just⁠—” He backs up the other way and knocks into Tony. “Sorry! I can⁠— I’ll go⁠— I’ll just stand over here.”

“Idiota,” Tony mutters under his breath as he passes.

“Cállate, Tonio,” Jack hisses back. 

“The latkes are done,” Davey announces, mercifully oblivious to the exchange. His face is still distinctly pink. “Someone get Charlie.”

“I’ll go,” Jack offers immediately, latching onto the excuse. He needs a second away from Davey and his stupidly pretty eyes. “Dish me up a plate?”

“Do you want applesauce?” Davey asks.

Jack pauses, frowning. “Do we got any sour cream?”

“You absolute heathen,” Davey says mildly, and he’s starting to sound a bit more like himself, his voice dropping back into its usual register instead of the panicked squeak from before. “Les got to you, didn’t he?”

“Sour cream, cielito,” Jack says, the pet name slipping out without him meaning it to. Tony hits him with a look that’s twice as judgmental as the previous one. “Pretty please?”

“Fine,” Davey grumbles lightly. “I guess if I have to.”

“You’re the light of my life, Dave,” Jack says.

Tony sighs, loudly. Jack’s ears burn. 

“Be right back,” he mutters, then he turns on his heel and flees before he can embarrass himself any further.

Jesus Christ.

00000

Chapter four here.

[calumrose]

"I would've had breakfast ready, but you were sleeping on my arm and I didn't want to disturb you" with best friend!Ash pls Leah 🥺🥺🥺😴🙏

I feel like these requests are taking me a lot longer than what they should, so I’m sorry! I really wanted to make this romantic and had to remind myself that it was best friend!ash and not boyfriend!ash lmfao! Anyway, I hope I did enough and you enjoy it!

Prompt –   “I would’ve had breakfast ready, but you were sleeping on my arm and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You could hear the rain pattering against your bedroom window as you lay awake in the hours of the early morning, your eyes remaining closed as you basked for a few extra minutes in the peaceful ambience that engulfed your bedroom. 

It was Sunday from what you could recall, the memories of the night before being almost ignored, the late hour and long-lasting laughter carrying out into the night blurring the events as they remained as the only memories you were able to pull to mind. 

It wasn’t your usual way to spend a Saturday night, but what better way to spend it than tucked up on the sofa, blankets spread over you, snacks on the table, with a bad movie marathon filling up the empty hours of a quiet night. You spent endless hours, smirking and giggling at the cheesy romantic lines of Danny Zuko as he flirted with Sandy Olsson, making poor attempts at imitating the deep voice of Bruce Wayne, and even starting a semi-heated argument over whether you were team Edward or team Jacob. Let’s just say that you called it a night after that one…

But even throughout the laughter-filled movie marathon and the endless number of snacks you ate; you had probably the best company you could have asked for that night. He didn’t even have to be there, he had other plans – you knew he did, and yet, he still came when you called him. The intention had been for him to come over and hang out, to meet up and spend a few hours together since it had been a while since you spent the night just hanging out alone, but before you knew it, the clock shifted from eleven to three and the last thing you remembered was hearing the clatter of the remote connecting with the coffee table before feeling someone lift you up, strong arms holding you close to a warm chest as they carried you through the house.

You were still in the sweatpants and t-shirt from yesterday, the fabric still soft and warm against your skin, protecting you from the cold that threatened to coat the air from the outside of your window. Your cheek was pressed against the skin of his arm as you lay in bed, your fingers having slipped between him some time throughout the night, lacing together like the fitting pieces of a puzzle, your eyes settling on the dull sky that you could see through the glass, the patter of the rain reminding you of little light clicking of a keyboard as you’d type away on your laptop, the small, rapid raindrops subtly reminding you that you had a few things that you needed to get done, a few emails that needed answers, a few projects that needed to be sent off.

It’s too early to think about that, you told yourself. There would be time for that later.

And you weren’t the only one who thought so.

“Next time you suggest we watch all of the Twilight movies in one go, I’m leaving you to have your movie night alone,” The voice grumbled from next to you, causing you to turn your head in his direction so you faced him, the rough, gravelly nature that laced his voice reminding you of a deep bass riff, the sound vibrating through you almost beautifully. “You have absolutely no taste in movies.”

“That’s the point in a bad movie night, Ashton,” You couldn’t hold back the playful eye roll, an amused laugh escaping your slightly chapped lips at his remark, “We’re supposed to watch the bad movies and hate every second of it – it’s what makes it fun.”

“I have a feeling your idea of fun is very different to mine,”

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, you still don’t say no when I suggest it every time, and we always have this exact same conversation the morning after,” You pursed your lips, turning onto your side, your cheek still resting on his arm that was outstretched beneath you, the warm tattooed skin was soft beneath your own, your eyes catching a glimpse of the red and black moon tattoos that travelled along his forearms, your finger coming up and lightly tracing the circumference of each individual moon before prodding the largest one and blowing a raspberry in Ashton’s direction.

Your morning boredom was beginning to set in, the lack of stimulation starting to take effect as you lay in the quiet of your room, both not quite fully awake yet as the sheets lay half across your bodies and half on the floor.

“I don’t want to move,” You spoke into the room, not necessarily towards Ashton, but instead more out into the general universe, announcing your tired disapproval towards the act of getting out of bed. Although your stomach was not a fan of your statement, the low grumble feeling like a small balloon had just burst inside of your stomach as the sound made itself heard. Maybe breakfast wasn’t such a bad idea…

You flickered your eyes up towards Ashton, a friendly yet coy smile curling at your lips as you shuffled forward a little, moving your head slightly further up his arm, your cheek now resting in the crook of his elbow, nose merely inches away his bicep. Your eyes met as you lay there, the golden hazel of the black-haired man swirling around like a hypnotic tide had you mustering up the best doe eyes you could, silently sending the request you always made when he stayed over.

Will you go and make some breakfast please?

“Bat your eyelashes all of you want, I’m not getting up yet,” Ashton could read your mind, you were sure of it, knowing the silent request that was being fired towards him through the shine in your eyes, lashes fluttering lovingly towards your best friend as you tried to be as painfully sweet as possible. You were both unbearably sweet on one another, having the kind of relationship that burned like a gentle fire, the warm flames kindling from years before and continuing to burn comfortably as you grew closer and remained friends throughout the trials and tribulations you each faced throughout your life. 

“What do you mean ‘you’re not getting up yet’? Ash, you always make breakfast when you stay, it’s routine!” You couldn’t hold back the giggle that fell from your lips, fingertips playfully jabbing into his ribs, smiling at his reaction, his body naturally and sharply jolting away from you, attempting to get out of your reach although the weight of your head on his arm didn’t allow for him to move very far. 

“You see, I would’ve had breakfast ready, but you were sleeping on my arm and I didn’t want to disturb you,” Ashton spoke through a yawn, his eyes bunching closed as his nose scrunched up as his chest gently shook with the intensity of his yawn, his free arm tensing as he reached out, muscles bulging slightly as the limb was freed from the corner of the duvet. “You looked too peaceful to wake up.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?”

“I didn’t actually say that,” Ashton smirked, arm coming to rest between you, index finger pointing towards you, “You’re putting words in my mouth and you’re trying to start a fight you know you can’t win.”

“Uh huh, big man, we both know who wins the games out of the two of us,” Your eyes rolled, palm wrapping around his large index finger as you waved it around a little, smirking at the childish nature that slowly creeping into the atmosphere between the two of you. 

You both caught each other’s eyes from across the sheets, smirks twitching at one another’s lips, legs itching to move as you debated freeing yourself from the confinements of the falling duvet and racing downstairs like a child would do on Christmas morning. 

“Tell you what, I’ll make you a deal,” Ashton spoke up into the momentary silence, the smirk still threatening to spill from his lips, “I’ll race you downstairs and whoever loses has to make breakfast – or even better; loser gets the worst plate.”

“Oh god, you were one of those kids who looked between two plates and gave the smallest one to the other person, weren’t you?” 

Ashton looked at you with mock offence, hand coming to rest against his chest, jaw dropping slightly as he let out a dramatic gasp as he responded, “Am I really that predictable?”

“Just a bit.”

---

Send me a soft/blush prompt & I’ll write a blurb for it! :)

[georgescatcafe]

the rising chariot — 2

rating: t warning/s: none pairing/s: platonic dream team, karl jacobs/sapnap genres/tags: percy jackon and the olympians au, friendship, angst summary: Nick Pappas isn’t sure it’s normal for teenagers to be sent across the United States on a quest that could potentially kill them, but Nick has started to realize that everything he thought was normal is entirely false. George Davies doesn’t particularly want to spend three consecutive days with this new camper and that son of Hermes who snagged his win in Capture the Flag two weeks ago, but he knows he has to suck it up and go with them, no matter how irritating they may be. Clay Bryce just wants to prove himself and show that he’s more than that troublesome kid from Cabin Eleven, but even as the leader of this quest, he’s not sure how to when Nick has fire powers and George is practically capable of mind-control.

Yet what they feel and want will mean nothing if they don’t complete their quest. When a petty feud between gods has Apollo threatening to take the Sun from the sky, the three must head out to stop him, but not just that—they’re in a race against an ancient enemy of the god, one who definitely will try and kill him if it gets to Apollo first.

+ao3 +masterpost

Floris came by his house again the next day. Nick stared at him as he stood in the doorway. “School’s cancelled indefinitely,” Floris told him. “They said they’ll work on rebuilding as soon as they can, but while we still don’t have a physical school, we get summer break early.”

“Happy birthday to me,” Nick replied, though there was no mirth in his voice.

Floris smiled anyway before his eyes got all shifty, and he leaned forward, as if looking for something. “Are your parents home?” Nick wondered if Floris knew about his situation. He knew about Nick’s mom; or, at least, Nick assumed he somehow did. It wouldn’t surprise him that he knew about the rest of his living arrangement, either.

“I managed to get taken away by a deranged cop the day they left for their anniversary,” he answered. “And they aren’t putting that on hold for me.” His younger sisters—homeschooled, lucky them—were sent to their grandparents last week. The only reason Nick didn’t go was because he was old enough to handle himself. Or so he thought. “I’m home alone.”

“Nice,” Floris hummed, hand settling on the doorframe thoughtfully. “So about yesterday….”

Nick held up a hand, wincing as a headache bloomed behind his eyes. “I really don’t want to talk more about it.”

Floris made a face, but Nick was being honest. The whole ordeal just made him feel sick. “It’s good to—”

“Talk things out, I know,” NIck replies, “so you said. But, look, man, that was really traumatic, okay? And I think I hit my head too hard on the door because I was seeing things, and it was just really scary. I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

Floris studied him, gaze intense, and Nick straightened up under it, shoulders moving back and chest puffing up slightly. It wasn’t an intimidating look, but there was something… unnerving about it. He felt he had to prove something. Finally, Floris sighed. “It’s probably for the better for once. Just… if something like that happens again, you should take this.” He held out a small card, and when Nick took it, he realized it was a business card.

“Call me, okay?” Floris asked. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Nick stared at the card for another second before looking back up at the other. “Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll call.”

Floris gave him a final smile before pivoting on his heel. He was about to walk off when he spun back around. “Oh, uh, I made these for you.” He held out a baggie filled with what looked like lemon bars. “I don’t recommend eating them all at once. I’ve found they’re pretty good for when you need comfort food, or, like… healing. Or something.”

Nick accepted the bag. “Uh-huh. Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Floris said, before smiling for the last time for real and turning, heading down the walkway and taking off down the road.

Nick looked back down at the lemon bars. They weren’t his favorite. He definitely wasn't going to eat them all at once. Dumb of Floris to even tell him that.

He went about his routine like usual, now that school was out of the picture. It was a bit weird actually, sitting down to a day of mindless video games with no guilt, no homework to turn in or tests to study for. (Granted, most of his homework was left incomplete, and most tests were taken with no studying involved prior. Not that Nick was a dumb kid, school just… wasn’t for him. In case you couldn’t tell by the whole burning it down thing. Not that he meant to do that. Just to be clear. In case you missed that fact.) Nick sunk deeper into his beanbag chair, fingers flying across his Xbox controller as he focused on the small TV in his room. He wondered if his parents knew about his early summer already.

Probably not.

He played until the Sun went down, only stopping to pee or get food, and his routine looked very much like that for the next three days until his parents returned, and he found himself thrown into the monotony of chores and errands. It was preferable to reading-induced migraines, but he also missed the break from home school provided. The town he lived in on the edge of Houston was easy enough to navigate on foot, and his dad had started to give him driving lessons, but the lessons had to be put on hold for work, and walking around the city was a lot less fun when there was no one else to walk with.

The business card he’d taken to keeping in his pants’ pocket ever since Floris gave it to him seemed to become a paperweight then. Nick pulled it out.

Floris Larkspur Keeper Half-Blood Hill Long Island, New York (800) 009-0009

The information on it was terrible to read, in some fancy, looping font, but Nick understood it well enough once he squinted for a while. He frowned at the address and phone number. The number was obviously toll-free, meant more for business rather than personal use, and the location itself… New York? Nick frowned before returning the card to his pocket.

He’d have better luck running into Floris in the grocery store. Besides, the only bit of info on the card that didn’t leave him more confused than how he started was Floris’s name. Nick bit the inside of his cheek. Maybe Floris wasn’t the best person to walk around the city with.

Nick sighed, wondering if his stepmom would maybe send him on a grocery run. He was surprised when he walked into the living room to see his parents sitting on the couch, staring at him expectantly.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. “I didn’t mean to burn down the school. I promise.”

His stepmom rose from her place on the couch. “We believe you,” she said, hand coming to rest on his shoulder. His heart pounded as his gaze dropped to her hand. “You aren’t in trouble. Actually, the opposite.”

He stared at her before turning to his stepdad.

“Your birthday, Nick,” he said.

His birthday. He completely forgot about it. He looked at his stepmom.

“We’re sorry we weren’t here to celebrate with you,” she told him. “That was our fault. So we did something extra special for you.”

“You didn’t miss much,” Nick replied, even as she guided him over to the couch where his stepdad opened his laptop.

“With no school,” his stepmom said, “we figured it would be okay if spring break came early.”

And there, right on his dad’s laptop screen, a ticket to New York City.

Nick’s eyes turned to saucers as he stared between his parents, gaze going from his stepdad, back to his stepmom, then vice versa. “You’re kidding,” he breathed.

“Your flight goes out in two days,” his dad said. “A week there and straight back.”

“By myself?” Nick asked, hardly believing his luck.

“You’re sixteen,” his dad replied, even as his stepmom made a face.

“We have a second ticket,” she explained. “We can resell it, but… if you wanted to take a friend—a responsible one.”

Nick didn’t have many friends. Constantly switching schools did that to a kid. He stared blankly at his stepmom, who offered him a tentative smile in return. He tried to give one back, but his mind was reeling, wondering who to invite—if they’d really let him go on his own or not.

“Y’know,” his dad started, “there’s this one kid I’ve run into a couple times, at the gas station, the store, kind of funny looking, ginger, always asks after you.”

Oh, God. “That’s,” Nick hid his face in his hands, humiliation rising in his throat, “Floris.”

“A friend?” his stepmom asked, hopeful.

Nick nodded.

“Perfect!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “And clearly he cares about you. I think that’s a good one to take.”

“Mom,” he said, even as the name tasted bitter on his tongue, knowing his actual mom was still out there, “no. There’s got to be someone else—or I could go on my own, right? Right, Dad?”

His stepdad said nothing. So that was just a fib, then. Nick’s face fell.

“I think Floris would be good,” she urged. “You don’t have to spend every second together.”

“But you’ll want us to,” he argued.

“I just want you safe,” she said, “and I know your dad wants the same.”

Nick made a face.

Finally, she made one too, expression souring. “Nick, we just want to do something nice for you—for once. Can’t you just accept it?”

“I,” Nick made a frustrated noise deep in his throat, “why now? You’ve never cared. Is it because I almost went to prison?” He looks to his stepdad. “Do you feel guilty or something? That you couldn’t stop them from taking me, just like you couldn’t stop them from taking Mom—my real mom,” he added quickly, unable to stop the glare he shot at his stepmom, polite as she may be.

Her hand flew to her chest, as if stung, and his stepdad sat up, brows furrowing, lips downturned in a severe frown. “Nick Pappas, don’t you dare talk to us like that,” he scolded.

“Or what?” Nick snapped. “You going to kick me out? I bet you’d love that! You wouldn’t have to look for a new school anymore; you wouldn’t have to look at me and be reminded of her. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“What’s gotten into you?” his stepmom cried. “You’re never like this!”

“I’m just tired!” Nick shoved himself up off the couch. “Thanks for the trip, but oh my God, just leave me alone—please!” He stormed into his room and slammed the door shut, pressing his back against it and immediately pressing his face into his hands.

He almost died Friday, and they didn’t care. Of course they didn’t care! And now they wanted to act nice, and he was supposed to just accept it? Without a modicum of suspicion? It was so not fair. He brought his legs to his chest, hands sliding from his face and elbows resting on the tops of his knees. He buried his head in his arms. None of this was fair.

What felt like an hour but was probably just ten minutes later, a soft knock at the door startled him into lifting his head. He scooted away from the door, and it opened slowly. In the doorway stood his stepmom. Nick bit back a groan.

“What,” he said.

The petite woman lowered herself to the floor, closing the door behind herself and taking a seat across from him. “I’m sorry I’m not her,” she replied.

Nick glared at her crossed legs.

“I mean it,” she promised. “I’ve never tried to be her—”

“You wouldn’t want to be her,” Nick grumbled.

His stepmom paused before a hand came to rest on his knee. “I never met her, but if she was anything like you, she couldn’t be bad.”

“You’re just saying that.” Nick’s glare strengthened. “I can’t stay at one school; I’m always setting things on fire; I almost went to prison just last week. I’m a terrible son.”

She didn’t say anything to that. 

Nick flattened his lips. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “We’re… not good parents. I never wanted to be a parent. I am now, and I wouldn’t change it, but I’m not your mom, even with you calling me that, and I don’t want to replace her. And I could never be her because I know how much she meant to you, and I couldn’t do for you what she did.”

“You don’t even know what she did,” Nick snapped.

His stepmom sighed. “Can you please just accept this? I had to talk your dad into keeping the tickets after what you said.”

“You should have let him sell them,” Nick replied. “I deserve it.”

“No, you don’t.” She patted his knee. “You’re right. You did almost go to prison—you wouldn’t have deserved it, though. I think wrongful imprisonment deserves a trip to New York.”

Nick allowed a laugh to fall past his lips, bitter.

His stepmom took it. “Your flight leaves in two days. Tell your friend to come with you. You’ve got a whole week to run around NYC like the teenager you are. Have fun.” She gave a gentle shove to his shoulder. Nick rocked with the motion. “Okay?”

Nick stared at the floor.

“Okay?” she repeated.

He nodded.

“Good.” She pushed herself from the floor, running her fingers lightly through his hair before leaving, closing the door softly behind her. Nick squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a shaky breath.

Have fun. He can do that.

When he finally hunted Floris down at the grocery store the next day, he told him about the trip. “It’s short notice,” he apologized, “but it’s a week.”

“New York?” Floris asked. Nick felt like if the ginger had a tail, it’d be wagging.

“Yeah,” he replied. “A week and then we come home.”

“Got it, captain,” Floris said. “I’ll pack my bags tonight and meet you at your house bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“The flight doesn’t leave until noon.” Nick frowned.

“I like being prepared,” Floris replied. “Are you ready?”

“More or less,” Nick nodded, “not like I own much anyway.”

Floris stared at him, eyes narrowed, before nodding also. “See you tomorrow then.”

Nick gave him a mock-salute. “See you tomorrow.”