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consumeconstantly · 4 years ago

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A rose by any other name would(n’t) smell as sweet

Summary: “Please. Just buy me flowers once. Just once, that’s all I’m asking.” Marinette sits on her the cold metal of an outside chair at her favorite cafe. He never does. Not during her life. (But perhaps in death--)

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Marinette is not a trophy wife, although her husband would certainly like her to be.

She is an independent go-getter who builds a fashion empire from the ground up, takes in kids off the street and cares for them like they’re her own, and an ex-heroine who does just as much as a civilian as she did in a super suit. Some will argue that she does more. Marinette is the kind of woman that others aspire to be; care and love built into a frame made of steel, ambition, and values tempered by years of experience. Mothers point at her and tell their daughters and sons that they should emulate her, then attempt to follow in her footsteps as well.

Almost nobody in Paris hates Marinette.

But perhaps the man who sits across from her at the painted-black table despises her.

“I don’t want children,” she insists. “Not right now. When we do have kids, I want to devote my all to them right now. I can’t do that when I’m trying to branch out overseas.”

“But you’ll be such a good mother. And you’ve talked about having kids for ages. You mentor enough children as it is-- can’t you just divert some of the time and resources you spend on them and focus on us?”

Marinette stirs her coffee, spoon clinking against porcelain. She adds in one creamer. Then two. And a third, just for good measure. “Having kids and mentoring kids is different. And even when we do have kids, I’m not going to stop mentoring the ones that I’ve taken under my wing.”

“That’s not fair to our kids, though.”

“I don’t understand how it’s not.”

“Love and patience aren’t limitless. Even though you’re trying to help everyone, you can’t do that.”

She set her spoon to the side of the cup. “It’s true that I can’t help everyone. But I want to try. Besides, we have plenty of time before we ever have to worry about kids.”

“We don’t, Marinette. You’re almost thirty five, now.” He gestures to her face, which has gained a few number of wrinkles and sunspots. What can she say? Marinette embraces the process of aging, and stopping herself from laughing just to prevent a few lines seems like more trouble than it’s worth. “Not exactly a spring chicken.”

Calmly, Marinette sips her cream and sugar laden coffee. Despite needing the extra caffeine boost nearly every day, she’s never been able to stomach having the drink straight. “How many times have we had this conversation? I’m starting to feel like a broken record.”

He sighs. “And every time we have this conversation, both of us just get older and older. You know that the longer we wait to have children, the more likely they are to have… difficulties.”

“And if they do, we will love them just the same,” Marinette says, firmly. “Now please, can we stop talking about this? We haven’t had a date in ages.”

“Because you’ve been so busy,” he accuses.

“No, because you keep refusing to meet me. Why don’t we talk about something else?”

“What else is there to talk about? You won’t consider having children, and you won’t stop seeing Jason.” With a scoff, Marinette’s husband pushes back the seat, metal scraping against concrete. “If you want to have a good date, you need to be willing to talk about our issues.”

Marinette rests her head in a hand, closing her eyes as her husband storms off. The migraines have been getting worse, lately. She finishes her cup of coffee, and the server comes over with two slices of cake and a bouquet.

The server looks at the deserted seat nervously. His cup is left untouched, and the napkin lays rumpled. “Mme? What should I do with these?

She taps her nails on the table top. “Pack the cake in to-go containers please. You can leave the flowers with me.”

With a bowed head, the server nearly throws the bouquet at Marinette and quickly moves away to pack the slices up. Marinette shifts, taking the flowers and staring out at the streets of Paris silently. When they first started dating, the bouquets always had roses and tulips. Over the years, the tulips began to disappear, and the roses started getting replaced with forget-me nots. The silver-white of her ring sings against the blues and violets in her lap.

The small bouquet of flowers in her lap won’t be given today.

“Hey, Jace.”

Jason stills on the other side of the line. “Again?”

Marinette stays silent. He’s over to her apartment in five.

“I don’t understand why you’re married to the guy,” gripes Jason, letting himself in with a key Marinette made for him years ago. “He’s a complete and utter ass.”

Jason’s eating the cake Marinette bought for their anniversary. She still buys the cakes year after year, knowing that they’ll never make it through to the dessert round. Even though Marinette can’t bring herself to eat the cake without her husband at her side, Jason has no qualms about it; after three failed anniversaries and countless dates gone awry, Marinette started buying his favorite flavors.

Marinette fiddles with the silver band on her finger. “I love him, Jason.”

“So?” He tosses the cardboard boxes in her trash, then proceeds to wash the dishes in her sink for her. Marinette doesn’t let herself go that often, but she always has a hard time feeling okay when she and her husband are fighting like this.

She stares at a photo of her wedding day, the sheer elation in her eyes, the flush in her cheeks and ear-splitting grin. In comparison, her husband is demure. Almost unemotional. “Love makes you do crazy things.”

Ceramic and metal clink together. He places a bowl in the drying rack, then makes his way over to where Marinette sits on the couch. Her eyes are red, but at least she’s not crying anymore.

“That’s a line for romance novels, not for real life. He’s abusing you, Juliet.” Jason tightens his arm around Marinette’s shoulder, providing her support. The only reason they met was because Marinette ended up getting involved with a modern day retelling of Romeo and Juliet as the understudy. When the lead actress suddenly lost her voice, Marinette had to sub in.

“Juliet…” Marinette muses. “Does that make him my Romeo?”

She pushes away from Jason, moving to stand near a litany of dried bouquets. The latest addition still looks alive. Marinette caresses one of the petals with her thumb, then makes an indent with her fingernail. Forget-me-nots dry quickly. Roses take longer.

“No.” Jason’s eyes go dark, and for a moment, Marinette sees a flash of Lazarus green before he banishes it away again. “Not him. Never.”

“Please,” Marinette cries in the middle of the night, hand chasing an invisible phantom in her dreams.

Her husband stares at her from his spot on their bed.

“Don’t leave me--”

His hand lifts, ready to shake her out of the nightmare.

“Jason.”

Marinette’s arm falls back onto her chest, tears in the corner of her eyes. Her husband throws the covers off himself, dresses, and walks out of their apartment.

When the door slams behind him, a dried petal falls to the ground.

“Hey,” Jason murmurs, hand pressed against Marinette’s forehead. “You’re not running a fever or anything, but you don’t look too hot.”

Marinette waves him off. “I’ll be fine. Just didn’t get enough sleep last night. Paris Fashion Week is coming up, and you know how important that is.”

“Not as important as your health.”

“A little cold never hurt anybody.”

Jason looks Marinette in the eyes. “More people die from the common cold every year than you might expect. Don’t say things like that.”

Her body softens, leaning into Jason’s warmth. “You know me. I’m tough as nails.”

“I know.” His voice lowers.

“You bastard!”

Jason Todd is a person well known for his bouts of anger. Most of the time, his resentment is dry and cynical. Quick to burn, but easy to put out with the right tools.

Today, his voice is wet with rage, oil-soaked and smoky.

“Please sir, calm down. This is a hospital.”

He does not calm down, but he does get quieter. His voice switches from explosions to a blizzard. “How could you do this to her? She loves you.”

The man draws into himself. “Does she? Did she ever?”

“This is no time for your self pity. She’s dying, and it’s your fault for not noticing. If she got treatment earlier--”

“Don’t push the blame on me, Jason. Marinette spends more time with you than she does with me.”

“And why is that? Because you never show up when she needs you, because you forget every single important date, because you keep making her cry. She wants nothing more than to spend time with you. She doesn’t love me. Not like she loves you.” Jason’s hands are balled up into fists, and he’s this close to throwing down with the bastard who has the privilege to call himself Marinette’s husband. “You probably didn’t even notice, but she buys flowers for you every single anniversary that the two of you have had together. Every single anniversary for the past ten years. Up in your apartment.”

Jason pushes the other man up against a wall, eyes narrowed and jaw set. “Every single time she’s come home from one of your god awful dates, she cries. She used to ask why you never gave her flowers, or why you weren’t spending time with her. She doesn’t ask for things like that anymore.”

Scoffing, Jason body checks the man and moves towards the door of Marinette’s hospital room.

Marinette does not get better.

Her husband does not attend her funeral.

On the day of their anniversary, a single red rose appears on her gravestone.

@jasonette-july-2k20

#angst #you decide the male lead #use your *imagination~*#a single red rose #jasonette #could be sibling jasonette or romantic #however you read it #jasonette july #who is at fault here? i cannot say #they're all sorta not the best #moral ambiguity #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #jason todd

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servegrilledcheese · 3 years ago

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tag game!

lets go girls ! tagged by @astystole & @meksims

Nickname: nino

Zodiac Sign: cancer sun, capricorn moon, pisces rising

(i have no clue what that means but my that’s what my co--star chart says)

Height: 172 cm or 5′8″ according to my drivers license.

Last Movie I Watched: i don’t remember anymore. the next movie i want to watch is jurassic park (1993) bc jeff goldbum.

Last Thing I Googled: hbomberguy. i was watching his video essay about the origins of the anti-vax movement.

Favorite Musicians/Artists: according to my spotify on repeat playlist, mariah carey, olivia rodrigo, and slayyyter

Current Song That is Stuck in Your Head: i’m kissing you by des’ree bc of the romeo + juliet clip i referenced

Lucky Number: 12 i just decided

Currently Wearing: worn out white v-neck tee and blue and white striped betlog pj shorts

Dream Job: lottery winner or trophy wife

Dream Trip: paris again or tokyo probably. i want to replace all the water in my body with ramen soup and kohee.

Languages: english and filipino

Ocean side or Mountains: ocean! gimme that amalfi coast view.

Do you play any instruments?: i’ve been playing the piano for 9 years!

Current Favorite Song: touch my body by slayyyter

One random fact about yourself: when i walk my cat, i bring a plastic poop bag and toilet paper with me which are just props to make me seem like a responsible pet owner who picks up after his cat. (i am not and i do not). my cat conceals her shit exquisitely (she digs a hole, squats on the hole, and covers the hole). the other cats in the neighborhood do not, and i don’t want my neighbors to make the assumption that the shit lying around near the sidewalk is my cat’s. sometimes when my cat has finished shitting i roll out some toilet paper, pretend to get the shit out of the soil, and fold the unused toilet paper into the poop bag, but only when i’m visible from the security cameras.

Describe yourself as an aesthetic: static playing on a spray-painted baby pink tv from the 90’s with bedazzled antennas inside a trashed apartment unit.

tagging @kazuaru @aniraklova & @klayde!! do whatever you want.

#he’s losing it your honor #tag game #non sims #possible delete later #long post #sorry i wrote this on mobile oops

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calpalirwin · 4 years ago

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Tough Act

Summary: Lip may have finally met his match.

A/N: A season 4/season 5 AU of sorts. My first Shameless/Lip Gallagher fic too, so fuck off if it sucks.

Content: Swearing, fighting, fucked up-ness.

Word Count: 4.3k

And away, and away we go!

The door to the lecture room slammed open, averting everyone’s attention to the teenager rushing into the closest empty seat. Underneath the sea of unruly brown curls was a face red from the exertion of his run across campus in a blind hurry. There was a wild look in his crystal blue eyes as he tore his backpack apart, digging around for a notebook and pen, and a flash of agitation as he came up empty-handed. The adrenaline of his bad morning made all his movements swift as he frantically scanned around to figure out who to ask to help him out of his predicament.

“Psst,” he whispered, his rushing about coming to a standstill as he stopped on the girl seated to his left. “Psst… hey!”

“What?” she whispered back in annoyance, her lips barely moving, her attention still fully on the professor who continued with their lecture.

“You got a spare scrap of paper. And, uh… a pen? I seemed to uh…”

“Forgot to charge your precious laptop?” she questioned with the same note of annoyance.

“Oh, you think I’m one of these snobs?” he smirked, gaze flickering about the room. “Nah. Rough morning.”

Her eyes rolled as she reached wordlessly into her bag at her feet, producing a notebook with a pen tucked into the spirals. “Here,” she hissed, handing it over.

“Oh, I don’t need the whole th-”

“Don’t care. Now, shut the fuck up.”

“Thanks.”

“The fuck did I just say?”

The boy smirked again, but didn’t say another word, turning his attention to catch the rest of the lecture.

When the class was over, he ripped the pages free from the notebook, tucking the pen back in the spirals and handing it over. “Thanks again.”

“Keep it,” she said, pushing the notebook into his chest as she rose to her feet. “You clearly need it more than I do.”

Confused irritation flashed across his face as he followed her out of the classroom. “I was just trying to be nice. Fuck.”

She paused, turning on her heel to face him. Now that they were literally standing toe to toe, she got a good idea of just how tall he was as she found herself eye level with his chest. Or what would be his chest if it wasn’t covered in a white t-shirt sporting the words “Fuck you you fucking fuck” in blue block letters. The same color blue of the simple zip up hoodie he was also wearing. The kind of blue that really made his eyes pop as her chin tilted upwards to find his own gaze staring down at her, unchecked attitude in every sharp feature of his face. She crossed her arms, scoffing. “Are you saying I wasn’t nice back?”

“Look, if you’re gonna be a cold bitch, that’s fine. But why bother helping in the first place?”

“Right. Next time I’ll just let you keep pestering me, then.”

“I just said ‘thank you.’ What the fuck more do you want?! Jesus…”

“You’re welcome!” she snapped back. “Better?”

His temper gave way to cockiness as he flashed a grin. “See? Was that so hard? Can I buy you a coffee? Or like a new notebook?”

“Ugh, I don’t get you. One minute you’re pissed I helped you. The next you’re trying to flirt with me? Pick a side, loser.”

“It’s Lip, actually.”

Familiarity flashed in her eyes. “As in Gallagher?”

He chuckled lightly. “Yeah. How many Lips do you know? Wait… you know me? How?”

“Think you’re the only one from the South Side with a brain? I’m Mickey and Mandy’s cousin.”

“Oh shit! You’re a Milkovich?”

“A Y/L/N, actually. But yeah, I guess.”

“No shit, huh?”

“Yeah, what gave it away? The attitude, or the fact that I’m the only one in this place taking notes by hand?”

“Well, not the only one,” Lip chuckled, waving the notebook he had tucked under his arm.

“Right…” she said before walking off. After a few steps, she turned to look over her shoulder at him still standing there. “Well?” she demanded. “You buying me that coffee, or not?”

That trademark smirk graced his lips before he adjusted his backpack on his shoulder and jogged after her.

“So, how’d you end up here?” Lip asked as they pushed their way out of the building. He rubbed his hands together, blowing into them before digging into his pocket, producing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Lip shook the box at her in a silent question as he placed one between his lips and lit it.

She took one, and when she moved to take the lighter from him, he gave a small shake of his head. One of Lip’s hands cupped around the cigarette in her mouth, the other lighting it for her, before he took a long drag from his own cigarette. “You gonna answer my question?” he asked, pocketing the cigarettes and lighter.

“You didn’t really give me time before you asked a new one,” she responded, blowing a ring of smoke.

“Well?” Lip prompted, twisting his left wrist in a gesture to indicate for her to go ahead and answer.

“Like I said. You think you’re the only one from the South Side with a brain?”

“I mean… statistically no. But to get into a place like this? And afford it? What’s your secret? The Milkovichs fuckin’ got some dirt on someone? Can you get them to threaten them for me too?”

She rolled her eyes. “One, I got in here on my own. Two, I’m not a Milkovich. I may share a little blood, but I don’t share the name. Not that I’d want to anyway. Fuckin’ Terry trying to fuck the gay out of Mickey by having him fuck that Russian broad? Like he has several dipshit sons to pass on those disphit genes. Who gives a fuck if one of ‘em’s a raging homo?”

“Hey, that raging homo is fucking my brother. Watch it.”

She raised her hands in defense. “Like I give a shit who’s fucking whom. None of my damn business.”

“Whom, huh? Jesus, you are smart.”

“Yeah, and for a brainiac you’re fuckin’ slow. Smart isn’t a special Lip trait made just for you. Other people can have it too. Probably hard to see that though with your ego. Does that ever get heavy?”

“Ooo, she bites.”

“She happens to have a name. And I swear if you call me a Milkovich one more time, I’ll show you exactly how I’m not one by not pulling my punches for a Gallagher like some white trash version of Romeo and Juliet.”

It was his turn to hold up his hands in defense. “Shit, okay. Let’s see… a Y/L/N… My age, give or take a year in either direction… that makes you Y/N? Which makes you a junior. Impressive.”

“Is that an ‘impressive’ in regards to your stellar deduction skills? Or an ‘impressive’ in regards to me being a junior.”

“The latter. I’ve already almost dropped out like 6 times.”

“Mmm, then maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are, Lip. Spewing bullshit to illiterates is easy. Actually being smart though requires a little more work.”

“Alright, fuck me for being curious, but I don’t exactly see our kind around campus, do you?”

“That’s probably because we don’t go around flaunting that part of ourselves. We had our chance to get out, we took it, and then we didn’t bother looking back.”

“What like some take the kid out of the hood metaphorical shit? Wouldn’t the follow up to that mean that you can’t take the hood out of the kid?”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why I’m constantly busting my ass to keep up with these silver spoon trust fund brats. It was easy in high school. Pay attention every now and again, and you don’t have to bother with cracking a book to be labeled a genius. Big fish, small pond. Here? These kids have had nannies and tutors since before they could string two words together. Suddenly I’m just an average sized fish in a bigger pond. And out there in that ‘real world’ everyone keeps harping about? Do you see how as the pond gets bigger, you get smaller? But you think I’m gonna let that slow me down? Play into that self-fulling prophecy that I won’t amount to shit because of where I grew up? No. I’m gonna keep my mouth shut, and work my ass off because that’s what got me out in the first place, and that’s what’s gonna keep me from backsliding.”

“Did you just call me a small fish?”

“I’m saying you better get your shit together, Gallagher. This ain’t fuckin’ t-ball, it’s the big leagues. Back home, we might be the big shots. But here? We ain’t shit unless we do something about it. And showing up late to class without a fuckin’ notebook and pen isn’t how you make that happen.”

“Fuck, alright. If I wanted a lecture, I’d just call Fiona.”

“Just trying to warn you. One hood kid to another. But by all means, you could also contemplate dropping out for the 7th time.”

“Anybody ever tell you that you need to fuckin’ relax?”

“If they think that, they’re not stupid enough to say it to my face.” She took a last drag from her cigarette, blowing the smoke up in Lip’s face, before dropping the butt on the ground and grinding it out with the toe of her boot.

“Oh, yeah cuz I bet you’re real tough,” he deadpanned with an eye roll, stomping out his own smoked up cigarette, and pulling open the door to the school’s coffee shop.

Y/N scoffed. “Start putting those pretty eyes of yours to good use Gallagher, and you might just realize that in addition to being smarter than you, I can also do anything else better than you. That includes being tougher. And partying harder.”

“Pretty eyes, hmm?”

Her eyes rolled, but the way her cheeks flushed didn’t go unnoticed either. “That would be the only thing you heard… Friday night. 8 o’ clock. And if you have to ask… well… guess you better put that brain of yours to work.” The smirk on her face could rival his any day as one of her hands patted affectionately at his chest. “Bye, Lip.” And with that, she walked backwards from him out of the coffee shop, leaving him wondering what the fuck had just happened, and more intrigued than he’d ever been by any girl before.

~~~

Lip understood what Y/N had meant about not needing to bother with an address for the party. All he had to do was follow the sounds of loud music and drunk laughter.

He could feel the music vibrating in his bones the second he stepped inside, the room dark with the exception of the strobe lights bouncing triadic colors all across the party-goers, one of which was Y/N.

“Hey!” Lip said when he got closer to her.

“Hey!” she greeted with a grin. “Looks like you figured it out. C’mon, let’s get you a drink.”

He followed her deeper into the house, into a brightly lit kitchen that had him squinting. “Pick your poison,” she said, tossing him a red cup.

“So, I still owe you that coffee,” he commented after a beat, while they made their drinks.

“Oh, do you now?” she asked, looking up at him over the rim of her cup.

“I mean… I don’t do well with debts.”

“Who said you were in my debt to begin with?”

“You helped me out when you didn’t have to. What would you call that?”

“I’d call it being nice.”

“Yeah, well you know as well as I do that being nice comes with a price tag attached where we’re from.”

“That may be so. But look around Lip. Sometimes people do things for others without there being a catch. And it was a fuckin’ notebook and pen, not bail money. I don’t need anything from you, because I don’t want anything from you. Crazy concept, I’m aware.”

He took a pause to take a long drink from his cup. “I don’t get you, you know that? Like you’re nice, but you’re such a fuckin’ bitch about it too.”

“The duality of woman,” she smirked, bowing dramatically. “Some people aren’t so easy to pin down, Lip. God forbid you might actually have to get to know them. Or let them get to know you. Which one scares you more, Lip?”

Again, as a chance to get his thoughts together, he took a drink. He decided to take a page from her book. “Bye Y/N,” he called out over his shoulder as he walked away.

She watched him go in proud amusement, knowing that she’d be seeing Lip sooner rather than later.

It took about an hour for Y/N to be proven right.

“So less say you n me get outta here,” the drunk nameless college boy slurred, one hand propping himself up against the wall, the other getting dangerously close to her face.

“Let’s not, and say we did,” she replied, grabbing his hand and dropping it to his side.

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” he crooned, breath smelling like cheap booze and shit weed.

“The fun is that you walk away with the only part of you bruised being your ego,” Lip growled from behind.

Frat boy turned to face Lip, his movements sluggish. “And who the fuck are you?”

“Nobody,” Y/N hissed at the same time Lip responded with “Her boyfriend.” “Nobody,” Y/N repeated in a firmer tone. “Lip, leave. I got this handled.”

“Yeah, leave,” the other boy said earnestly. “Probably be best if you didn’t watch me fuck your pretty little girlfriend.”

“Ugh, you’re disgusting,” she spat while the muscle in Lip’s jaw ticked. “You can follow Lip in getting the fuck out of my face.”

“Mmm, feisty. Good. Just the way I like ‘em.”

Y/N’s hand cracked against his face, and then Lip was shoving him backwards. “The fuck did you just say to her?! Get the fuck out of here!”

“Oh, yeah? And who’s gonna make me?”

A snarl ripped itself out of Lip’s throat, before he was throwing a punch, his fist connecting solidly with the other guy’s jaw. “Lip!” Y/N scolded in disbelief as Lip took the next hit square in the face. “Hey!” she yelled, wedging herself in between both young men, each prepared to keep exchanging blows. “Leave! Both of you!”

The drunk frat boy stumbled off, but not before throwing Lip the dirtiest look he could muster. Lip huffed in disdain, but stayed rooted in place. “You alright?” he checked, the lights bouncing off the room showing the area around his mouth already starting the transition from red to purple. With a thumb, he wiped at the trickle of blood spilling from his nose, smearing it with the blood coming from his busted lip.

With both hands, she shoved him as hard as she could. “I had that fuckin’ handled!”

“Well fuck me for being nice, then!” he shot back, matching her anger. He turned on his heel, away from her.

“Where the fuck are you going?!”

“Away! Like you wanted!”

She grabbed his arm, whipping him back around and dragging him to the nearest bathroom. “Sit!” she instructed, as she locked the door and grabbed a washcloth.

“I’m fine,” he protested, but sitting on the ledge of the tub anyway. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

She slammed one of her hands on the counter as she turned on the faucet to wet the washcloth. “See?” she said, cupping his face and cleaning away the blood. “It’s exactly that type of thickheaded stubbornness that’s gonna keep you stuck exactly where you are.”

“Thickheaded stubbornness?”

“Yes. That chip on your shoulder that says the world is always gonna be against you, and that everything comes with a price tag. That fighter’s instinct you disguise as reckless bravery, but is really just a stupid desire to hit the world as hard as it hits you. The world isn’t as black and white as you were made to believe. If this was some piss poor attempt at saying we’re even for giving you a fuckin’ notebook the other day, congrats. We’re even. Thank you. Are you satisfied now, Lip?” She chucked the washcloth in the sink.

“I’m never satisfied. And wasn’t it you who told me that sometimes people can do nice things for others just because? I wasn’t evening a score between us, Y/N. I was just being nice.”

“Well, way to be a bitch about it…” she snorted.

“Oh, you liked it,” he taunted, rising to his feet. “Didn’t you?”

She rolled her eyes in disgust. “No.”

“Aw, not so tough when it’s me confronting you with the truth now are you?”

“Fuck you, Lip.”

“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He closed the distance between them in one step, lifting her up onto the counter, his lips finding that niche where her neck met the collarbone. When her fingers flew to tangle in his hair, he took that as his cue that he wasn’t pushing limits that shouldn’t be pushed. But erring on the side of caution, he pulled back to peel his shirt off, giving her ample time to stop him. When he got a throaty whine of protest instead of her slapping him senseless, he chuckled darkly. “Aw, look who doesn’t want me to leave now.”

Y/N pulled her own shirt up and over her head, tossing it to join his on the tiled floor. She hooked a finger in his belt loop, pulling him back to her. “Fuck me, Lip,” she breathed before their lips collided, heat radiating in every touch.

~~~

Lip’s chest heaved as he tugged his jeans back on. “Here,” he said, digging out his phone and handing it over. “So next time we can cut right to the chase.”

She scoffed but started to put in her number anyway, a warning about how he better call on the tip of her tongue, but the screen changed as the name “Fiona” flashed and his phone started to ring. “Uh…” Y/N said slowly.

He swore under his breath, taking the phone back and answering. “Yeah, Fi? Whoa, slow down. Ian did what? Okay, we’ll keep him there. I’m on my way now. I dunno, Fi, as soon as I can. I’m coming from campus. But I’m coming. Just… sit tight or something.”

“What was that?” Y/N asked as Lip hung up the phone, pulling on the rest of his clothes in a hurry.

“Family emergency. D-do you have a car? Can I borrow it? It’s faster than taking the L.”

“Yeah,” she said, redressing with the same hurry and dangling her car keys. “C’mon, I’ll drive.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” he rushed. “Come with me, I mean.”

“I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.”

Figuring that arguing with her would only only result in him leaving later, he nodded his head before letting them out of the bathroom.

The drive to his house was filled with tense silence as Lip bounced his leg and smoked the whole trip. As a quiet act of comforting the young man, Y/N rested a hand on his leg, and while he flinched at the contact, he allowed her hand to stay, the touch soothing even if it didn’t fully quit the storm raging in his head.

She hadn’t even put the car in park before Lip was bounding out, his boots racing against the pavement as he rushed towards the house. Y/N followed as quickly as she could, nearly colliding into his back as Lip froze in the small entryway of the house. “Where is he?” Lip barked, his brief hesitation breaking at the sight of his family huddled together in the middle of the living room while pounding and screaming sounded from upstairs.

“Up there,” a woman a couple years older than Lip directed, her voice cracking with fear and worry. “Mickey’s trying to break down the door to get to him. He’s been locked in there for like 2 hours, Lip. He stopped answering us. I- I-” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she pushed shaky hands through her hair. Behind her was a man and woman who looked to be even older than the woman talking, a teenage girl and boy of similar age, and a small toddler, all of them bearing the same terrified confusion.

Lip nodded once, understanding what the woman was saying without her needing to finish the thought. “Are all the knives accounted for?”

“Yeah, I think so. But… Fuck, Lip, I dunno what to do. Like I can’t just call the cops. I- I guess I could call Tony?”

“No, it’s fine, Fi,” Lip told her. “I’m gonna go help Mickey. You guys stay here. Actually, Kev, come with me. Carl, you too.”

As the men sprung into action and headed upstairs, the attention averted to Y/N who was still standing in the entryway. “Who are you?” the woman asked.

“Uh, I’m Y/N. I drove Lip. You must be Fiona?”

Fiona nodded numbly. “Yeah. This is V, Debbie, and Liam. Thanks for driving Lip. Uh…” She dug around in her pockets, pulling out a few crumpled bills. “Sorry,” she said, placing them in Y/N’s hand. “That’s all I got right now.”

“Oh, no,” Y/N responded, pushing the money back. “I- I go to school with Lip.”

Any chance for more small talk was interrupted by a loud splinting crack and an “Ian! What the fuck?!” before Lip, Kev, and Carl all came stomping downstairs, along with Mickey and Ian. “Y/N?” Mickey blinked, as he helped Ian onto the couch.

“Mickey,” Y/N deadpanned.

Mickey looked back and forth between Lip and his cousin, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ hell, Gallagher. You gonna fuck all my female relatives, or what?”

“Shut the fuck up, Mickey,” Lip and Y/N told him.

“Ian, are you okay?” Fiona asked, as Debbie went into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water.

“Yeah, I’m fine…” Ian muttered, gulping down the water, whatever that had transpired upstairs apparently long over in the red head’s mind.

Fiona’s gaze flickered over to the other boy’s for a more detailed answer. When Kev answered with a small whistle and twirl of his finger to indicate that Ian was off his rocker, V shoved him. “Kev!”

“What?” the man asked, holding up his hands in defense. “It’s true. Oh, and Fi… we’ll uh… fix the door tomorrow.”

“Don’t care,” Fiona responded, all her attention on Ian.

“I’m tired,” Ian declared.

“Okay, get some rest right here. I’m gonna talk to Lip real quick.” Her voice was soft, motherly even. A drastic change from the scared person she’d been 10 minutes ago.

“Okay. Hey, Lip. You home for the weekend?”

“Something like that,” Lip told him before following Fiona into the kitchen to talk out of earshot.

“What are you still doing here?” Mickey asked Y/N, not caring for the answer as he stalked after the eldest Gallagher siblings.

“Yeah, who are you?” Carl asked.

“She’s friends with Lip,” Debbie explained.

“Oh,” was the knowing reply.

V rolled her eyes. “Alright, Debbie, Carl, take Liam upstairs and go to bed. Kev, c’mon, let’s go home.”

There were some grumbles before the group dispersed, leaving Y/N alone with Ian. “So, you’re friends with Lip, huh? And related to Mickey somehow?”

“We’re cousins on his mom’s side. And I wouldn’t say Lip and I are friends, necessarily.”

“Mmm, right. Yeah, Lip doesn’t really do friends. Or relationships.”

“Good to know.”

“Hey, thanks again for driving Lip over,” Fiona’s voice sounded from behind as her and Mickey came back into the room. “We got it from here if you got somewhere to be.”

“Lover boy’s outside,” Mickey smirked.

“Not a problem. And thanks, jackass,” Y/N said, then headed in search of Lip, finding him on the back porch smoking yet another cigarette. “Hey,” she said softly, sitting down next to him.

“You’re still here?”

“Was I supposed to leave?”

He shrugged. “Everyone else does.”

“Ooo, dark…”

“Wasn’t saying it to seek sympathy points.”

“Does this tough act of yours ever get tiring?”

“Who said it was an act?”

“It’s not gonna kill you to let someone in, Lip.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it sure beats the hell out of watching them leave. Because in the end, they all do. I learned a long time ago that the only person I can count on is myself.”

“What a lonely way to live your life.”

“Better than the alternative.”

“Did you miss the part where I said I was tougher than you? That shit,” she said, jerking her thumb back at the house, “is a fuckin’ Tuesday. If anyone is gonna get the fucked up parts of you, it’s me, Lip.”

“Why?”

“Why do I get it?”

“No, why do you want to?”

“Because you get me back. Look, I know I’m abrasive. I know I piss people off. Because like you, if I push them away from the start, then when they eventually leave it hurts less. But here’s the stupid thing about that, Lip. It still hurts. Maybe this time it doesn’t have to.”

“You know that this is like a complete 180 from you berating me three days ago, right? Or even earlier this evening. Or right now.”

“That didn’t seem to bother you when you were fucking me in that bathroom.”

“How do I know you won’t leave?”

“How do I know you won’t?” she countered. “I’m not saying you gotta fuckin’ marry me, Lip. Just loosen up on the tough guy act. Not everything has to be a fight.”

“But what if I like fighting with you?”

“I’m sure we can find ways of making sure that still happens.”

“Wanna stay the night then? Maybe have a fight or two?”

Tag List

@frontmanash @goeatsomelife @flameraine @creator-appreciator @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @sparkling-calm @tea4sykes @youngblood199456 @5-seconds-of-obsession @gosh-im-short @aquarius-hood1996 @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @philthepegacorn @ashtonlftv @miirandaaa @karajaynetoday @myfavfanficsever @stormrider505 @cashtonisruiningmylife @another-lonely-heart-blog @cullen-collective

#tough act #lip gallagher #lip gallagher fic #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher one shot #shameless #shameless fic #calpal irwin

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cogentranting · 3 years ago

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Tier Ranking All the Classics/”Literature” type Books I’ve Read

Or at least all the ones I remembered to include/didn’t arbitrarily decide to leave out. (Within each tier the books are not ranked)

Other books wish they had what these books have

(The best of the best. )

Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoevsky) A Tale of Two CIties (Charles Dickens) Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen) The Lord of the Rings (JRR Tolkien) The Chronicles of Narnia (CS Lewis)

Love it

Les Misérables (Victor Hugo) East of Eden (John Steinbeck)- honestly I don’t remember much about it but I remember liking it a lot Frankenstein (Mary Shelley) Great Expectations (Charles Dickens) The Great Gatsby (F. Scott Fitzgerald) As I Lay Dying (William Faulkner) Sense and Sensibility (Jane Austen)- but if I reread this might very well move up a category. Haven’t read it since I was like 11 Emma (Jane Austen) Catch-22 (Joseph Heller) The Hobbit (JRR Tolkien) The Space Trilogy (CS Lewis) Til we Have Faces (CS Lewis) A Wrinkle in Time (Madeleine L'Engle)

It makes me think

(It’s not fun in the way you might think but it has really interesting ideas or elements that I enjoy engaging with)

The Brothers Karamazov (Fyodor Dostoevsky) The Stranger (Albert Camus) Night (Elie Wiesel) Grendel (John Gardner) The Sunflower (Simon Wiesenthal) Confessions (Augustine of Hippo) The Man Who was Thursday (GK Chesterton) Orthodoxy (GK Chesterton)

Good Vibes Only

(I don’t really remember it but I remember liking it)

Remains of the Day (Kazuo Ishiguro) Fahrenheit 451 (Ray Bradbury) Hard Times (Charles Dickens) Oliver Twist (Charles Dickens) Persuasion (Jane Austen) My Antonia (Willa Cather)

Really Enjoyable

Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats (T.S. Eliot)- It’s absurd and a delight. To Kill a Mockingbird (Harper Lee) The Martian Chronicles (Ray Bradbury) Cloud Atlas (David Mitchell) Life of Pi (Yann Martel) War and Peace (Leo Tolstoy) The Crucible (Arthur Miller) Hamlet (William Shakespeare) The Color of Water (James McBride) Beowulf A Separate Peace (John Knowles)- Also featuring not one but two movie adaptations of the “so bad they’re funny” variety Middlemarch (George Elliot) White Fang (Jack London)- except the ending. Let White Fang stay wild. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)- they’re trash people doing terrible things and it’s a good time And Then There Were None (Agatha Christie) The Silmarillion (JRR Tolkien)

It’s good BUT

(I like it but there’s one glaring exception to that)

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Victor Hugo) - Most of it is fun but also I’m pretty sure the one major plot point is very racist Gone with the Wind (Margaret Mitchell)

yeah, it’s good

(I like it but not strongly)

The Jungle Book (Rudyard Kipling) The Idiot (Fyodor Dostoevsky) Macbeth (William Shakespeare) The Possessed (Fyodor Dostoevsky) Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck) Moby Dick (Herman Melville) Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (Mark Twain) Paradise Lost (John Milton) The Bean Trees (Barbara Kingsolver)- respect the fact that between when I read this as a high school freshman to when I read it as a student teacher, it worked its way up from “bleh) to be here The Three Musketeers (Alexandre Dumas) The Hound of the Baskervilles (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle)

Sure

(I feel slightly more positive than neutral)

Animal Farm (George Orwell) Of Mice and Men (John Steinbeck) The Scarlet Letter (Nathaniel Hawthorne) Medea (Euripides) Antigone (Sophocles) The Odyssey (Homer) David Copperfield (Charles Dickens) Player Piano (Kurt Vonnegut)

That’s definitely a book that exists and I have read

(I have no emotions regarding this book)

The Portrait of Dorian Gray (Oscar Wilde) Tarzan of the Apes (Edgar Rice Burroughs) The Sun Also Rises (Ernest Hemingway) Death of a Salesman (Arthur Miller) Julius Caesar (William Shakespeare) Passing (Nella Larsen) Charlotte Temple (Susanna Rowson) Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)- I’m going to be honest. That category title is an exaggeration. I read a children’s abridged version when I was like 8 and that’s it. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)

Need to reread

(I feel like I missed something the first time through and would appreciate it more on reread)

Beatrice and Virgil (Yann Martel) Song of Solomon (Toni Morrison)- honestly though I think rereading would move it to “respect but don’t like” A Midsummer Night’s Dream (William Shakespeare) Canterbury Tales (Geoffrey Chaucer)

I respect it, but I don’t like it

(I fully think that this is a quality book, but for some reason or another, I don’t like it)

The Plot Against America (Phillip Roth) The House on Mango Street (Sandra Cisneros) 100 Years of Solitude (Gabriel García Márquez)

Bleh

Romeo and Juliet (William Shakespeare) The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood) The Metamorphosis (Franz Kafka)

Bad Vibes Only

(I don’t remember this book but I remember I didn’t like it)

Heart of Darkness (Joseph Conrad) A Portrait of the Artist as a Yong Man (James Joyce) Rose in the Heart (Edna O’Brien)

Strong Dislike

1984 (George Orwell)- It could almost go into respect but don’t like, because I think the world he creates and the idea of it all is very well done. And the essay on NewSpeak is brilliant. But the book is boring and the characters are bad and I don’t really care if Winston gets tortured to death. The Man in the Iron Mask (Alexandre Dumas)- There’s a reason why at least one movie adaptation looked at the plot and went “nah we’ll just write our own”. The first one is basically a swashbuckling adventure and then this one was like “hey want to see the musketeers sad and old and what if they went on one final mission which is deeply misguided where they all fail and die. Does that sound fun?” If I’m remembering it correctly.

“I can shoot the book physically but not conceptually and that makes me sad”

(I hate this book so much you don’t understand)

The Catcher in the Rye (JD Salinger)- this category was made specifically this book in mind.

#books #from your resident english teacher #tell me what I'm wrong about #or give me book recommendations #or you know ignore the massive ranking list no one asked for

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princesscatherinemiddleton · 4 years ago

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Ten Years Ago...

I have really fragmented memories leading up to the royal wedding - I remember hating Catherine’s engagement dress, I remember a craft shop near my house doing a “cushion making” workshop during the wedding (which two of my friends went to), I remember being in school and talking about what the dress would look like in English (we were doing Romeo and Juliet). I also have fragmented memories of the months afterwards; debating whether Kate was pregnant during her tour of Canada in 2011 sticks in my mind.

But I remember every moment of April 29th 2011. My excitement was threefold. One - I’d never seen a royal wedding before and I was fascinating (ngl, I felt the same about Philip’s funeral). Two - my family were coming around for the day. And three - I had spent the last few years reading about Prince William’s girlfriend in the papers and I had decided I loved her.

Nearly every house on my road put bunting up, and it stayed up until the end of the Olympics a year later, although we didn’t have a street party (someone tried to organise one for the 2012 Jubilee but no one wanted to go!). My family decided to have a tea party, making cucumber sandwiches and fairy cakes and scones.

My family started turning up at 8am and I remember my dad and uncles in the kitchen, making bacon sandwiches for those who wanted them. I remember sitting with my cousin’s son, playing Pokemon on my sister’s pink DS Lite. I remember watching the guests arrive and listening to my family’s commentary on people I knew (“Doesn’t David Beckham look lovely? What is Victoria wearing?”) and on people I didn’t (“Of course Tara Palmer-Tompkinson is there!” “Is that Elton John?”). I remember the reporters filling the gaps with visits to Bucklebury, speaking to old ladies in a gazeebo, and to Kate’s old primary schools.

I remember the royals arriving. My family’s disgust at Andrew (early adopters of the Andrew is trash campaign), their amusement at Eugbea’s hats, and their regular-as-clockwork hatred for poor Camilla stick in my mind. Carole Middleton completely won them over and they spoke a lot about how sorry they felt for the backseat she’d had to take at her daughter’s wedding. I remember we tried to guess the colour the Queen would be in - I guessed yellow, with a blue blanket - and I remember never guessing the Queen’s wedding outfit colour right ever again.

I remember Kate appearing and me almost crawling into the TV to get a better look. I particularly remember repeating things like “Alexander McQueen! Lace! Sarah Burton!” despite not knowing what the commentators were on about. My family spoke about how Kate waved “like a commoner” and by this point there were 15 of us in my tiny front room.

The wedding ceremony is a bit of blur. My family stood up for the national anthem and I’ve never forgotten that because I’m 100% sure they’ve never done it before or since. One of my aunt’s cried at Jerusalem because it played at her wedding. One of my uncle’s decided to be creepy about Pippa. There was a lot of talk about the Queen and how proud she was and “how dare Camilla sit so close to her” and “doesn’t William look handsome” and “when are we having cake?” - I was sat cross-legged on the floor at the foot of the TV, partially because there were no seats, and partially because I was lured in.

I adored the colour scheme - I still do. The red, white, and gold was so perfect (and so me!). Catherine’s walk down the aisle to “I Was Glad” moved me to tears (but I’ve also cried watching every bride go down every aisle at every wedding I’ve ever been to). The bells pealing as they left the cathedral touched my cold little ex-Catholic heart.

Almost as soon as they left the church, my family abandoned me and the TV for the cakes. Some of them returned not long afterwards - also with cake for me - but the rest started playing some game in the dining room. I watched the carriage ride and peppered my grandparents with questions and they spoke about the Queen and the war and their own wedding (which I paid no attention to until I decided to write about it at uni six years later). The noise from the crowds stands out to me. Hearing the cheers and watching this couple - and their fancy family - travelling in London in carriages was amazing. My aunts spoke about how Kate now had a “royal wave” and how they would have to call her “Catherine” now (reader, they never mentioned her again).

Even when the carriage ride had finished, I didn’t want to move. I was scared of missing something, especially since we didn’t have a TV which could pause or record or rewind, and I was not the most technical teenager. But I did leave to get more cake and to join the game, leaving my family with strict instructions to call me back in if anything happened.

The balcony. The waving. The crowds. The flyover. The first kiss, which made everyone laugh because “it was so quick! How could they have got photos?”. The second kiss.

We played on the Wii for a while after that. The BBC reliably informed us nothing would happen for a while, so we ate and had fun, and heard people partying in the streets of not-London. When we did switch back over, it was not long before the newlyweds appeared in Charles’ car. The pure joy of that moment was clear. My uncle started talking car and everyone else ignored him and were like “Harry must have done that!” We stayed until we saw Will, Catherine, Charles and Camilla returned to Buckingham Palace (unpopular opinion but Kate’s fluffy little jacket is the only thing that makes her boring second dress remotely interesting).

My memory of that day is family. It’s love and fashion and cake and games and fun. It’s spending time together and returning to normal the next day. I have never felt anything like the atmosphere in the run up to that wedding - the closest was the London Olympics but that suffered from being over 2 weeks, not one day. That’s why I bought a copy of the wedding on DVD (I also bought the London Olympics DVD) and that’s why I’m still here. No matter what happens, April 29th will always be a special day in my heart

#personal #mine #kate #will #wedding #10 years of cambridge

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the-invisible-queer · 3 years ago

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Yes, Romeo & Juliet inspired West Side Story. But that's only a starting point.

West Side Story has so much more context and nuance.

It's literally about Puerto Ricans being harassed for wanting a better life in New York.

Again I'll say THE SHARKS DIDN'T HAVE TO EXIST IF THE JETS WEREN'T RACIST CUNTS

IT DEALS WITH RACISM

So you belittling the Puerto Ricans and the Sharks by saying the ONLY dislike the Jets for being white YOU ARE PROBLEMATIC AND RACIST

Because that's literally not it.

This makes me so fucking angry BECAUSE ITS PERSONAL

I have family WHO ARE STILL ALIVE who went through that shit first hand.

My fucking grandfather changed his name to make it easier to find a job.

My grandmother was 10 being called dirty trash.

FOR WHAT FUCKING REASON??? RACISM!

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years ago

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Welllp These Are Books: the April 2021 Edition

I did not read Romeo and Juliet this month. I read a bunch of other books. Like, a bunch. More than one series. Because Big Bang burnout is real and grown adults missing their deadlines is a real good way to stress me out. So, I read a bunch. Good books, very bad books, books that caused limbs to flail. For positive and not-so-positive reasons. Naturally, all those reasons must be shared. Under the cut with occasionally long and rant-prone reviews, as well as spoilers. Beware of spoilers under the cut. Please keep telling me what to read, internet. My library wish list is almost comically long now.

GIVE ME ALL THE WORLD BUILDING AND SNARK AND FIGHTING! WITH MAGIC! AND SWORDS! IT’S MY FAVORITE THING IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD!

Shades of Magic Series by V.E. Schwab

Kell is one of the last Antari—magicians with a rare, coveted ability to travel between parallel Londons; Red, Grey, White, and, once upon a time, Black. After an exchange goes awry, Kell escapes to Grey London and runs into Delilah Bard, a cut-purse with lofty aspirations. Now perilous magic is afoot, and treachery lurks at every turn. To save all of the worlds, they'll first need to stay alive.

— Picture it, approximately twelve forty-seven am. My husband is asleep. I am reading. The second book in this series ends. And I say, right out loud, at what might now be twelve forty-eight am, HOLY SHIT IT JUST ENDED. Justin thought we were under attack. No man has ever snapped awake quicker. He was not pleased. At least not in the same way that I was about these books. Which I goddamn LOVED. Loved. The world building. The magic. The banter. Rhy and Kell’s relationship. Once more. RHY AND KELL’S RELATIONSHIP. Which I might have cared about more than the romance??? Maybe??? I cannot get over how good this world building was. I know people have quips with it, and that’s fair. I saw the “twist” coming in the first book, and I think trying to preserve that left some plot holes that are understandably frustrating. Because Lilah definitely needed depth perception to fight as well as she did. Also did Schwab really refer to her as a cross dresser in her author’s note? Yikes. She wore a dude’s jacket, like—c’mon V.E. Other than that though. I loved it. Also shout out to @peglegsjones for suggesting this one in my 2020 post and call out to me for taking so long to read it.

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Ketterdam: a bustling hub of international trade where anything can be had for the right price—and no one knows that better than criminal prodigy Kaz Brekker. Kaz is offered a chance at a deadly heist that could make him rich beyond his wildest dreams. But he can't pull it off alone. . . . A convict with a thirst for revenge. A sharpshooter who can't walk away from a wager. A runaway with a privileged past. A spy known as the Wraith. A Heartrender using her magic to survive the slums. A thief with a gift for unlikely escapes. Six dangerous outcasts. One impossible heist. Kaz's crew is the only thing that might stand between the world and destruction—if they don't kill each other first.

— I’ve talked about how little I cared about anything that happened in Shadow and Bone before, but I kept seeing gifs of the Crows in the Netflix show and my brain was like: huh, I could like them. So, after some help from the very helpful internet, I’m happy to report I do in fact like them. At one point, I slunk into the couch. Like that’s how overcome with emotion I was. Kaz ripped a dude’s eye out! For Inej! Matthias loved Nina’s laugh! I would like to hug Jesper. Seriously, this hit all my high points and world building and banter and I lol’ed at ��scheming face.” I would like my hold to come through faster on the sequel.

THEY DID NOT CALL INTERMISSION HALFTIME AND MY COLLEGE EXPERIENCE WAS WAY DIFFERENT THAN THESE KIDS

The Off Campus Series by Elle Kennedy

Hannah Wells has finally found someone who turns her on. But while she might be confident in every other area of her life, she’s carting around a full set of baggage when it comes to sex and seduction. If she wants to get her crush’s attention, she’ll have to step out of her comfort zone and make him take notice…even if it means tutoring the annoying, childish, cocky captain of the hockey team in exchange for a pretend date. All Garrett Graham has ever wanted is to play professional hockey after graduation, but his plummeting GPA is threatening everything he’s worked so hard for. If helping a sarcastic brunette make another guy jealous will help him secure his position on the team, he’s all for it. But when one unexpected kiss leads to the wildest sex of both their lives, it doesn’t take long for Garrett to realize that pretend isn’t going to cut it. Now he just has to convince Hannah that the man she wants looks a lot like him.

— The first book in this series was free on Amazon. So, I read it. And really liked it??? It was so chock full of cliches and badly written tropes and Garrett probably should have accepted that Hannah didn’t want to go out at the start, but like—he was cute? And as we all know I am TRASH™ for stories set in the same verse, so, like, I just kept reading these trashy college hockey books. Trashy is a compliment here. God, these kids had so much sex. So much. An incredible amount, really. I once had a guy tell me he was physically attracted to me, but not emotionally attracted to me in college. Like, that was my college experience. The first and second books were the best, I think. I didn’t really like Dean that much.

MAYBE IT WAS BECAUSE HE WAS A RABBI???

The Intimacy Experiement by Rosie Danan

Naomi Grant has built her life around going against the grain. After the sex-positive start-up she cofounded becomes an international sensation, she wants to extend her educational platform to live lecturing. Unfortunately, despite her long list of qualifications, higher ed won't hire her. Ethan Cohen has recently received two honors: LA Mag nominated him as one of the city's hottest bachelors and he became rabbi of his own synagogue. Low on both funds and congregants, the executive board of Ethan's new shul hired him with the hopes that his nontraditional background will attract more millennials to the faith. They've given him three months to turn things around or else they'll close the doors of his synagogue for good. Naomi and Ethan join forces to host a buzzy seminar series on Modern Intimacy, the perfect solution to their problems--until they discover a new one--their growing attraction to each other. They've built the syllabus for love's latest experiment, but neither of them expected they'd be the ones putting it to the test.

— Ok, I know that sounds bad. Again, I’m a creature of predictable habit and this was the sequel to The Roommate, which I absolutely LOVED last year. But where as the relationship in that one was kind of swoony, this one was...I don’t know, really. Everyone was a well-rounded character and the plot was good, but there was this semi-invisible something that made it difficult for me to get fully on board with the whole story. Honestly, it might be because he was a religious figure?? Also, they got together real quick. Like zero to sixty in twenty-six seconds flat.

I KNOW IT’S BAD, IT WAS BAD AND YET—I CANNOT STOP READING IT???

Too Wild to Tame by Tessa Bailey

Sometimes you just can't resist playing with fire . . . By day, Aaron Clarkson suits up, shakes hands, and acts the perfect gentleman. But at night, behind bedroom doors, the tie comes off and the real Aaron comes out to play. Mixing business with pleasure got him fired, so Aaron knows that if he wants to work for the country's most powerful senator, he'll have to keep his eye on the prize. That's easier said than done when he meets the senator's daughter, who's wild, gorgeous, and 100 percent trouble. Grace Pendleton is the black sheep of her conservative family. Yet while Aaron's presence reminds her of a past she'd rather forget, something in his eyes keeps drawing her in. Maybe it's the way his voice turns her molten. Or maybe it's because deep down inside, the ultra-smooth, polished Aaron Clarkson might be more than even Grace can handle . . .

— Last month I read the first book in this series and it was absolutely ridiculous. This one even more so. The Clarksons are still on the road trip (sans one sibling because she fell in love in a week in the first book) and Aaron was, like, not a root’able character? Very Edward Cullen I’M A BAD GUY, BELLA vibes and his relationship with Grace was so strange. Super rushed again, obvs. Meeting in the woods is weird enough. Professing love forty-eight hours later is decidedly unbelievable. Also there was a kidnapping involved? I totally put a hold on the next book in the series.

COME UP WITH DIFFERENT TRAUMA, I DARE YOU! OR NO TRAUMA. WHAT A CONCEPT!!

The Trouble With Hating You by Sajni Patel

Liya Thakkar is a successful biochemical engineer, takeout enthusiast, and happily single woman. The moment she realizes her parents' latest dinner party is a setup with the man they want her to marry, she's out the back door in a flash. Imagine her surprise when the same guy shows up at her office a week later -- the new lawyer hired to save her struggling company. What's not surprising: he's not too thrilled to see her either after that humiliating fiasco.

Jay Shah looks good on paper...and off. Especially if you like that whole gorgeous, charming lawyer-in-a-good-suit thing. He's also infuriating. As their witty office banter turns into late-night chats, Liya starts to think he might be the one man who truly accepts her. But falling for each other means exposing their painful pasts. Will Liya keep running, or will she finally give love a real chance?

— I had such high hopes for this one. Which is on me, I guess. Because I didn’t hate this one, but it was...not great. Maybe I’m just getting old and crotchety but I am BEGGING romance writers to come up with different trauma for their female protagonists. Not every woman has to have been assaulted to rationalize their current personality. Doesn’t have to happen. Like, ok, yes it does happen. Far more than it should. But that’s an entirely different story, and I am so tired of female characters getting absolutely destroyed by their past only to have that be their defining characteristic for so much of the book. Until a nice man they were initially mean to shows up and he’s UNDERSTANDING and he CARES and it’s just, bleh. It’s bleh. Tired and predictable and I’m over it.

IN WHICH I SHOULD HAVE LOOKED AT THE COVER

Much Ado About You by Samantha Young

At thirty-three-years old Evangeline Starling’s life in Chicago is missing that special something. And when she’s passed over for promotion at work, Evie realizes she needs to make a change. Some time away to regain perspective might be just the thing. In a burst of impulsivity, she plans a holiday in a quaint English village. The holiday package comes with a temporary position at Much Ado About Books, the bookstore located beneath her rental apartment. There’s no better dream vacation for the bookish Evie, a life-long Shakespeare lover. Not only is Evie swept up in running the delightful store as soon as she arrives, she’s drawn into the lives, loves and drama of the friendly villagers. Including Roane Robson, the charismatic and sexy farmer who tempts Evie every day with his friendly flirtations. Evie is determined to keep him at bay because a holiday romance can only end in heartbreak, right? But Evie can’t deny their connection and longs to trust in her handsome farmer that their whirlwind romance could turn in to the forever kind of love.

— Ok, so I had had this book on hold for so long that I genuinely forgot about it and forgot who it was written by. Samantha Young wrote that one book that I called the worst book I had ever read. Only I did not realize that when I started reading this one. So, you see how this sets us up for disaster. Because this book was a disaster. Everyone was goddamn annoying. And whiny. Shit, everyone whined. About everything. Also, the actual writing was atrocious. I am not usually one to be like “men can’t write,” but at one point I told both @shireness-says and @optomisticgirl that this book must have been secretly written by a man because no woman writing it would be so obsessed with pointing out where her cellulite was. Like, what??? Also the first sex scene? Oh my God, I laughed. Guffawed. The so-called love interest literally asked: “Are we going to have sex now?” And then they just did. It was so bad. Also there was a dog? Who went everywhere with the so-called love interest. And they just never explained that? I thought it was going to be part of some crushing and depressing backstory. Nah, he was just there.

HOLY SHIT THIS WAS SO DUMB I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS WAS A BOOK! A BOOK MEANT FOR YOUNG ADULTS! WHAT IS YOUNG ADULT???

The Queen’s Secret by Melissa de la Cruz

Lilac's birthright makes her the Queen of Renovia, and a forced marriage made her the Queen of Montrice. But being a ruler does not mean making the rules. For Lilac, taking the throne means giving up the opportunity to be with love of her life, the kingdom's assassin, Caledon Holt. Worse, Cale is forced to leave the castle when a horrific set of magical attacks threatens Lilac's sovereignty. Now Cal eand Lilac will have to battle dark forces separately, even though being together is the only thing that's ever saved them.

— Remember last month when I was like: can’t wait for my hold to come through on this sequel so I know what happens? What an idiot. THIS BOOK WAS SO DUMB I CANNOT BELIEVE IT WAS A BOOK. As always in my rage-induced rants, no apologies for spoilers because seriously do NOT read this, but Lilac (legit, that was her name) married some other dude but just kept fucking Cale??? Like she had a secret door? So he could come in and they could fuck?? I just—oh my God. So, all these things kept happening. Magic and bad stuff and horses were killed. Lilac’s mother was the absolute WORST. Honestly the most worthless character who at one point was like “well, my story is over, guess it’s time to leave,” and then just left?? Forced Lilac into a marriage of alliance and no love and then everything evil was defeated in point two four seconds. It happened so fast I wasn’t even sure it happened. So, then I’m like, ok, how are Lilac and Cale going to end up together? Because this is YA and that’s how it’s supposed to work. Only her being married and that marriage requiring an heir is something of a rather large hurdle. Don’t worry! Remember when Lilac and Cale were fucking? Everyone totally knew. Including the king Lilac is married to. Who is somehow like...ok with this? And tells Cale that Lilac is pregnant. ISN’T THAT WONDERFUL! Sure, because now they can lie and claim its the king’s heir. ONLY IT’S CALE’S KID! AND CALE IS COOL WITH THIS! His entire internal monologue during this is about how he realizes he might not ever be able to tell his kid he’s their father, but he’ll be around and that’s good. Wait, what??? But there’s more! Not only is Lilac having Cale’s kid, but the king she’s married to is in love with one of Cale’s spy associates. So the king and the spy are going to go hang out (and presumably have their own kids) at one castle and Lilac and Cale are going to go to another. Lilac and the king never get divorced or annulled or whatever. Everyone stays as is and married as is and—they all live happily ever after? This was presented as a good ending, I swear. What the shit, guys, seriously.

#book rec #book reccs #fantasy recommendations #rom com recs #laura reads books #i am still waiting for people to respond to my emails #and only vaguely stressed out about it #welllp these are books

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shining-red-diamond · 4 years ago

Text

Shallow Waters (Part III)

Words: 1.2k

Pairing: Hendery x Brittany (OC)

Rating: PG-15

Genre: fluff, some angst

Warnings: none

Hendery was fascinated by all of the bright colors and glittering lights the carnival had to offer. Some booths had different games humans were participating in, some stuffed toys hung from their ceilings, and food stands were around every corner. There were a few roller coasters, but it was nothing drastic. It was mainly a large Ferris wheel and a couple of fast rides. Hendery felt as if he were at a city festival.

“It’s cool, isn’t it?” Brittany smiled upon seeing his eyes light up as a child at DisneyWorld.

“Beautiful,” Hendery declared.

The two walked around the carnival riding a couple rides and eventually having some curly fries, which Hendery fell in love with because of its salty texture. Hendery had only ever watched events like these from afar but was always too nervous to make an attempt to sneak in. He was scared his teeth might freak other people out; Brittany reassured him that people in the area got body implants and modifications, so he wasn’t the sore thumb at the carnival.

After a few rides and chowing down on the curly fries, Brittany suggested two last rides to allow their food to settle.

“They’re both slow ones,” she explained as they tossed their empty food baskets in the trash bin, “so our stomachs won’t be slingshot around.”

Hendery nodded and pointed towards a large tunnel ride at the edge of the beach. A few couples were lined up to board two-person boats painted shades of pink with red and white accents. Hearts for alternating sizes lined the front of the boats and stretched all the way around towards the sides. Soft romantic music played in the background as guests were seated by an attendant in a baby pink vest.

“Tunnel of Love,” Brittany chuckled.

“It looks pretty,” Hendery smiled.

They both liked each as more than friends, and they knew it; but Brittany was nervous of how things will turnout if they take the ride. Would they feel weird? Would they just resort to just being friends? She wasn’t sure. However, she decided to just put her big girl pants on and take the chance.

The two stepped into one of the pink boats and carefully sat down. The water pulled them through the dark tunnel, and as they rode along the first scene they came upon was a bunch of hearts and pink neon lights with “All You Need is Love'' playing in the background. The walls were painted pink and red, and throughout the ride, multiple love scenes from various popular films were performed by animatronics. Johnny and Baby from Dirty Dancing were posed in the famous lift from the final dance scene, Jack and Rose’s “I’m king of the world” moment in Titanic, and even Allie and Noah’s kiss in the rain from The Notebook was displayed.

Hendery’s attention was taken by a wall painted black with miniature lights to mimic a starry night. Fake willow trees hung over two figures leaning towards each other as if they were about to kiss. From the vivid red hair and bright blue bow on the female figure, Brittany knew it was the “Kiss the Girl'' scene from The Little Mermaid.

“That was my favorite movie growing up,” she smiled.

“What is it?” Hendery asked as he made eye contact with her again.

“The Little Mermaid. It’s about a mermaid named Ariel who trades her voice for legs, so she can see the human world. She also falls in love with a human prince.”

Hendery frowned. “Ariel shouldn’t have to give up something to be in the human world.”

A chuckle escaped from Brittany’s mouth. “There’s more to the story, but she does get her voice back and marry the prince at the end. We’ll have to watch it sometime. I think you’d like it.”

“Hendery didn’t have to give up anything to meet Brittany,” he stated with his arms crossed.

Brittany lightly scoffed. “Hollywood has their own way of portraying different stories, but you’re right, you didn’t give up anything.”

The last stretch of the ride showed the elevator kiss scene from Romeo+Juliet. The mannequin’s had obviously seen better days as Romeo’s blonde locks were messy, and Juliet’s angel wings were crooked and a little yellow; but Brittany still played that scene over and over again in her head and finding herself picturing it as her and the man sitting next to her.

“What are they doing?” Hendery asked, his eyes fixed on the mannequins.

“Kissing,” Brittany replied matter-of-factly. “You kissed my hand, but they’re kissing each other’s lips.”

“Why?”

“Mostly, it’s how couples express their love for each other.”

Hendery stared back at the scene as they passed it, wondering how kissing another pair of lips would feel, specifically Brittany’s. Yet, he wasn’t sure if it was too soon to do so, and he respected the girl he was falling for so much. He wasn’t going to do anything without her consent.

The boat returned to the entrance, and Hendery helped Brittany out of the boat.

“Shall we finish our evening with the Ferris Wheel?” she asked in a humorous manner as they headed towards a giant, colorfully lit wheel in the center of everything.

“How high does it go?” the merman chuckled as he stared at it.

“It’s about sixty feet tall, but if you’re not a fan of heights we can just head home.”

Hendery held her hand. “Hendery has dove into many bodies of water from the tallest cliffs. He can handle a tall wheel.”

Brittany smiled with a nod, and they were able to climb into the car by themselves. The two sat shoulder to shoulder to where she let him wrap an arm around her. Romantic, she thought as the car ascended. Hendery looked over the railing and smiled at the view below him.

“The ocean is so beautiful from the sky,” he chuckled gleefully.

Glancing in his line of sight, Brittany nodded. She found herself staring at him. His face. His lips. How she wanted to kiss that beautiful mouth! She felt that want of that romantic trope of having your first kiss on the Ferris wheel, but Hendery was too busy watching as they ascended and descended on the giant wheel. Little did she know that the merman would stare at her when she wasn’t looking, and he was feeling certain desires he had only discussed with her briefly. He wanted to kiss her.

Once they were able to get off, they walked the five minute journey home. The moon was high in the sky as its luminescence danced on top of the ocean waves. A multitude of stars twinkled, and everything was calm and peaceful as Hendery and Brittany walked hand-in-hand.

“A kiss how humans do,” Hendery blurted out his thoughts.

“I’m sorry?” Brittany jumped at his voice breaking the silence.

“What does it mean?”

“Well, kisses can have lots of meanings,” she explained. “They all are a sign of love, but it’s different with who is receiving and giving them. When a mother or a father kisses their child, it’s a parental type of love shown. A greeting kiss is more typical in European countries. When couples kiss, it’s typically a sign of romantic affection. I’m the best at explaining things, but I hope that made sense.”

Hendery pulled her close and whispered in her ear, “Hendery understands.”

Brittany said nothing but smiled.

“Can Brittany show Hendery how?” the merman requested.

Staring into his eyes, Brittany held Hendery’s cheek and pulled him closer before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. For the first time in his life, Hendery felt his heart beating rapidly as new sensations took over his body. He was in love with her, and she with him.

Tagging: @dearyongs @mafia-nct @ezralia-writes @jaekissd @queen-of-himbos @neocitybyday @daybreakx @lilhwahwa @hongism @fantasywayv @dreamystuffers @the32ndbeat @philosopher-of-fandoms

#wayvhoursnet #kwritersworldnet #nct-writers #nctcreations #kpopscape #neothestars #kdiarynet #kdiner #kpopficsnetwork #wayv #wayv hendery #wayv x oc #wong kunhang #hendery #wayv fluff #wayv angst

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fansofvow · 4 years ago

Text

im here to clear up some things.

edit: just scroll to the bottom for the tl;dr cause this is a lot but i think its necessary so it doesnt seem half assed or glossed over.

if you can’t tell by the perpetual lowercase here, its mod galen! i figured i should address the drama coming on here from a different perspective. no, this isn’t mod atlas dumping all her problems on me, she’s already tried talking abt it herself - its me deciding to speak up on my own accord after seeing the shitfest my dash has become.

keep in mind - i will be happy to discuss any of this with you guys civilly, but im not going to be kind to nasty anon hate. dm us, or just send us a polite ask, and we can sort things out! if we’ve done something ignorant, i promise you we will educate ourselves and apologise sincerely.

the galen thing

first and foremost - i saw some people saying its sus that i, an nb mod, was added to the blog right after the galen debacle. it was not to save face or hide behind me! ironically, the reason i got added now of all times was because mod atlas and i were discussing what was going on, i gave my thoughts on the matter, she asked me if id be interested in being a mod!

mod atlas then thanked me for my insight and educated her on the issue and figured it would be a good idea to actually have someone in the lgbt+ community on the blog - that way, these silly ignorant mistakes will not happen again. i wont let it happen. not to mention she’s getting pretty busy in her personal life so she thought itd be a good idea to bring someone else on board.

i believe that people can learn from their mistakes - i was also hurt by that misgendering galen post. i bitched about it too. but i saw that everyone involved apologised, genuinely didn’t mean it, and promised to do better. and i’ll hold them to that! but im not gonna start talking trash abt them on other peoples blogs just bc they made a rly ignorant post. if you’re cis, i really don’t want you speaking up on this matter anymore. its not your fight. youre not in the position to forgive nor condemn any of these people. trans folk, im not going to tell you that anyone deserves your forgiveness, that’s up to you, but what they do deserve is your decent respect. unless they say theyre blatantly against trans people - aka make a deliberately transphobic statement rather than one made out of pure ignorance - in that case, all bets are off lmfao. i dont take that shit lightly and ill come for you too.

to the person who made the misgendering galen post - you know who you are, i dont want to send you any more hate than you’ve already been getting so im not going to @ you, but please. reupload your apology about the post, cause i scrolled through your blog for ages and didn’t find it - if i didn’t see it reblogged on this blog, i wouldn’t have known you apologised. i wouldn’t have felt like your blog is a safe space for nonbinary folk. its important you own up to mistakes and keep the apology there.

the nahara thing

look. im poc. im also straight up sick and tired of lovestruck’s mistreatment of dark-skinned characters, especially black characters (why do half of them look like recoloured white people....?) like nahara. its important for our representation that she does well! that way, we can get more diverse li’s on our roster in the future instead of every skinny white person getting the spotlight and 9238428903 seasons. (i love you onyx and juliette, but what the fuck.)

that being said - i dont think what mod atlas said was that bad, especially considering it wasn’t here on fansofvow, the only thing reblogged onto here being her english lesson on galen’s route with a relieved comment abt how thats a series started right.

please understand - we’ve been afraid of the new characters’ routes ever since the strike. a lot of writers left, a lot are likely to be leaving, and we’re concerned about the status of the app. this wasn’t to shoot down nahara, but out of pure relief that we’re not seeing a downwards spike in the writing quality post-strike.

that being said - if you think nahara’s route is well written, and great - thats awesome! please give her all the love for us, cause we do want her to do well. she’s just not our cup of tea. can we please respect that instead of slamming this blog’s name? nahara is still doing well, im seeing hype for her everywhere- one or two negative opinions wont change that. we’re not even going to a leave a review in-app, which is the most important form of community feedback to lovestruck.

the posts have been deleted. please, give it a rest. keep loving nahara. quit the drama.

the nikolai’s route in school thing

all the students that saw the screenshots were 18+, and none of the examples were sexual in nature. teenagers get shown romeo and juliet in school, a play ending in a double suicide, but showing adults a few lines of good writing from a 17+ app is bad? its not like she showed them a scene from a straight up porno, its just a story that happens to have sexual themes in it. its up to the students whether they read the whole story or not, and they’re mature enough to handle it. that’s all im going to say abt the matter, cause im no teacher,

and lastly...

i see a lot of people saying that we, fansofvow, need to “set an example” cause we think we’re a “fandom leader” or somehow think we’re on some high horse cause of clout? i have no idea where this started because ik for a fact mod atlas has never referred to herself as a “fandom leader” or anything like that, and guys, we’re not that up ourselves. we don’t even have tons of followers! we’re just doing our thing to support VOW. please don’t put words in our mouths.

with all that out of the way, i hope we can move on and make the community a happier place for everyone.

-mod galen

tl;dr: people make ignorant mistakes sometimes. mod atlas has apologised for reblogging the post abt misgendering galen, wants nahara to do well, only showed non-sexual writing examples of nikolai to 18+ students and never called herself a “fandom leader.”

#long post #mod galen #discourse #pls let this be the only time we have to use that tag

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onthepyre · 4 years ago

Text

virgil and roman try to bake. it doesn’t go well

warnings: swearing, there’s some light angst but like. not really.

word count 1.1k

romantic prinxiety

also i didn’t proofread. good luck folks

Virgil grins, and Roman can’t help but think how cute he looks.

There’s flour in his hair, making it a soft white. It covers the front of his shirt, too, and dusts the sleeves of his jacket. A mixture of butter and sugar is smeared across his cheek, and he smells of the vanilla extract that has spilled on the countertop.

“How did we fuck it up this bad, Princey?”

He’s right — Virgil looks clean compared to the rest of the kitchen, and their chocolate chip cookies, still raw but sitting on baking sheets, are mostly a buttery liquid.

“I’m not quite sure, my dear. But this definitely is not correct.”

Virgil leaps up onto the countertop, narrowly avoiding a pile of spilled brown sugar. Roman walks over and stands between his knees, resting his arms on Virgil’s shoulders. “No shit. Go put them in the oven, I want to know what they taste like.”

Roman complies. “Do you think fifteen minutes is alright?” Virgil shrugs, and Roman sets the timer for seventeen minutes — just to be safe. He returns to his former place, and Virgil leans down to place a soft kiss on his lips. He tastes solely of flour. Roman grimaces, exaggerating a bit for the sake of hearing Virgil's laugh. He gets what he wants, a soft chuckle as Virgil knocks his forehead against Roman's own.

"I'm that gross, huh?" There's no malice behind Virgil's question, just a joking sort of sarcasm.

"Downright disgusting. The flour you're coated in has absolutely nothing at all to do with it." Roman kisses him again, this time ignoring the thin layer of ingredients that coats them both. It takes a few moments — and Patton's footsteps nearing the kitchen — for them to separate. Roman doesn't hear Patton approaching, or doesn't seem to care, and is forced backwards as Virgil slides off the counter and scrambles to put distance between them.

Patton appears at last, and stands almost awkwardly in the entrance to the nearly-destroyed room.

"Oh, are you two baking? I'm so glad to see you getting along! What's in the oven?" He bounces over and turns on the oven light to glance inside. His investigation reveals little, and it takes Virgil's hoarse response for him to figure it out.

"Cookies. Chocolate chip. They, uh, aren't looking too hot." Virgil clears his throat, crosses his arms over his chest, glances over a Roman.

"Well, of course they're hot!" Patton announces. "They're in the oven!" Roman laughs, and Virgil shakes his head. "But I see what you mean. They should be fine though!"

Roman nods hopefully, hazarding another glance at Virgil, who raises his eyebrows.

"Sure, buddy." Virgil's doubt is obvious, but it does nothing to curb Patton's cheery demeanor.

"Well, you kids have fun. And good luck with those cookies!" Without another word, he bounds out of the kitchen.

Roman waits until he hears Patton running up the stairs to approach Virgil again. He still has his arms crossed, though Roman isn't sure if it's defensive or comforting — Virgil has been known to use the gesture as both. Roman gives a small smile, though Virgil is hesitant to return it.

He asks first about the thing he's most worried about. "Are you alright?"

Virgil nods, almost tiredly, and sighs. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm just not really comfortable broadcasting my feelings to the world. Or to Patton." His gaze focuses on some invisible point to Roman's left. Roman tries and fails to catch his eye, but deems it unimportant. He grabs Virgil's hand.

"That's okay. If this is how you're most comfortable, we'll keep it a secret. Besides, that could be fun! Just imagine, it's like a movie. We're forbidden lovers, from opposing families with a decades old rivalry. Gay Romeo and Juliet."

Virgil grins again. "So, we're both going to die is what you're saying?"

Spurred on by Virgil's hand tightening in his own, Roman pulls him into a hug. "You know what I meant," he says into Virgil's hair. He gets a short laugh in response.

"Yeah, I suppose." Roman can feel Virgil's breath as he speaks, warm and soft against his shoulder. Roman cups his cheek, kisses him gently. He gets only a second to admire Virgil's eyes and his light dusting of freckles before he presses his face into the crook of Roman's neck.

"Thank you," he says.

"For what?"

"For being you, you big dummy. And for not being an ass. I'm sure it took some effort." Roman can feel Virgil smiling against his skin.

"Of course, my darling." Roman's response is whispered, so quiet Virgil can barely hear, but his hands grip the back of Roman's shirt, and Roman knows he understood. They don't move for a while, each trying to drink in the other's presence and store it away for future reminiscing.

The oven beeps loudly and insistently, and Virgil again jumps away from Roman, this time searching for the elusive oven mitts. As he looks, Roman opens the oven door to peer in at the cookies, which look nothing like they did when they were put in. At last, Virgil returns with the mitts, shoving Roman out of the way so he can remove the cookies. He stops to stare at them after he's placed the tray on the stovetop.

"Roman."

"Yes, dearest?" Neither Virgil nor Roman takes their eyes off the cookies in front of them.

"What did we do?"

Roman, the braver of the two, attempts to lift one of the cookies from the pan, but it proves to be a challenge when he burns his hand. There also is no clear separation between individual treats — the tray is a blackened mess of burnt dough and sizzling chocolate chips, all blending into each other.

Virgil grabs a spatula. He tries to slip it under the mass, but it stays firmly stuck to its pan. He resorts to a knife as Roman holds back a laugh. Finally, he chips off a piece, which he snaps in half. He offers a part to Roman, who takes it, if reluctantly. They bite into the cookie at the same time, maintaining eye contact, an unspoken challenge — who can eat more of their collaborative monstrosity. Virgil wins when Roman spits the baked goods into the nearby trash can, mumbling about how he can't eat any more of this.

Virgil frowns as he chokes down the bite of charred cookie, and joins Roman at the garbage can to toss the rest of it.

"I think we should leave the baking to Logan," Virgil states. "Specs probably enjoys the chemical reactions or whatever."

Roman laughs. "Of everyone you'd expect to be good at this…"

"We should probably clean this up, though."

Roman groans, and Virgil reaches up to press a small kiss to his cheek.

"Maybe later?" Virgil can feel Roman's lips brushing against his own as he speaks.

Virgil closes the gap between them. "I suppose," he says against Roman's mouth. He feels Roman smile.

@dissappropriation

#prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #tss #fluff #baking #june's writing #patton sanders #forgot about him lmao

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ificanwriteiscannon · 5 years ago

Photo

Love Story (A Luca Changretta imagine)

ps: The lyrics, the picture and the characters dont belong to me. Picture found in Pinterest.

Yes, its cheesy and cliche, but I hope you guys like it. Sorry for any mistake that you may find.

_________________________________

We were both young when I first saw you I close my eyes, and the flashback starts I'm standing there On a balcony in summer air See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns See you make your way through the crowd And say, "Hello" Little did I know

Luca knew the second he laid eyes in her. She was the one. One of his men pointed that he didn’t even know her name, but that didn’t matter to him. And then he heard her laugh. Oh, he was done for in that second.

“Excuse me miss.. Could I possibly buy you a cup of coffee?” Luca was not used to this feeling. Suddenly this stranger turned him in a teenager all over again. She had her back to him and the gangster noticed her friends giggling.

“Well, now I’m having tea with my friends..” Luca chuckled humorless. She was a flower, but how dared she refuse him? He was lost.

“But tomorrow would seem to be a nice day to have coffee with a stranger” From over her shoulder she smiled at him, and Luca walked away knowing for sure that she was his flower.

That you were Romeo, you were throwing pebbles And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet" And I was crying on the staircase Begging you, "Please don't go, " and I said

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess It's a love story baby just say "Yes"

It took them a total of four dates to make them inseparable. He was all that filled her mind and she was the light of his dark days.

“Oh darling, those are beautiful” Her mother said joyfully, as her daughter got inside all smiles reading the card between the bouquet. “Who are they from?” The older woman worked faster than Y\N could and stole the small, delicate piece of paper. The romantic words animated her until she got to the end. “Luca? Please Y\N.. Luca Changretta? The gangster? Are you mad?”

Y\N knew her family would have issues, but this was never how she imagined this would go.

“DAD, YOU’RE TREATING ME LIKE A CHILD..” Her mother was crying for what felt like hours. Ever since she screamed for Y\N’s father and told him about his daughter’s lover.

“THAT’S BECAUSE YOU ARE ACTING LIKE ONE”

“Look, I know that..” Y\N started taking a deep breath, trying to calm the situation.

“YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT LIFE! AND I FORBID YOU TO SEE HIM..”

“You forbid me? You can’t do that, I’m a grown woman! I got a job..I ..I”

“You keep seeing him, you can forget about this family. That man is trash Y\N. He’s gonna get us all killed or worse”

So I sneak out to the garden to see you We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew So close your eyes Escape this town for a little while

Y\N walked the neighborhood watching her surroundings. She was supposed to be at her friend’s house for a ‘girls night’ as she lied to her parents. There was no chance she would ever go out again I they ever dreamed that she was going to her lover’s arms.

Lost in thoughts, Y\N gasped as a pair of hands pulled her waist to a dark alley. As soon as she turned to the man, horrified, she relaxed. The girl slapped his shoulder and they laughed as Y\N hugged Luca.

“I’ve gotta tell ya something, mi bella” He could feel her heart accelerating against him, and the gangster caressed her arms. “I got business in England. I’ll be gone for a while” Her eyes fell to the ground and Y\N distanced herself as far as she could, since Luca didn’t let her go.

She knew what those businesses were. She had heard him talk with his mother about it, Y\N knew how dangerous this could be. Vendetta.

“How long?” The girl asked harshly

“I don’t know yet.. Maybe four months, maybe more” She nodded as Luca observed her, he could practically hear her brain screaming and her heart breaking.

“I’m not gonna waist my breath in trying to stop you, because I know you won’t listen.. But you listen to me Mr. Changretta, you will come back to me. Safe. And you’ll marry me then. Dare to disobey that and I’ll hunt you wherever you are and kill you myself” Luca chuckled at his woman and her finger pointed at him. There was no doubt. Never could be.

“Yes, ma’am” Luca pulled her close and they stayed in each other’s arms in silence.

'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet" But you were everything to me I was begging you please don't go and I said

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess It's a love story baby just say "Yes" Romeo, save me, they're trying to tell me how to feel This love is difficult, but it's real Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess It's a love story baby just say "Yes" Oh, oh

Long were the months Luca stayed away.

The girl came clean with her family about her relationship with Luca, and much to her disappointment, her father kept true to his word.

Y\N was tired of them trying to control her feelings anyways, so she collected her stuff and Audrey was happy to open her doors to her future daughter in law. The Italian becoming a mother to her, and their worry over Luca their bond.

They received letters and phone calls, but none enough to calm their hearts. Of course, they trusted him, but neither would be calm as long as he was back and safe.

“Mi amore, soon this will all be done and we’ll be together again..” It broke his heart to hear her cry. Specially when Luca knew he was the source of her worry.

“Don’t you dare to lie to me Changretta.. I can hear it in your voice. Something is wrong, isn’t it?”

“These men are not to be intimidated, and it may take longer than expected, but I made a promise to you, mi bella, and I intend to keep it.”

“You better”

I got tired of waiting Wondering if you were ever coming around My faith in you was fading When I met you on the outskirts of town, and I said

Romeo save me I've been feeling so alone I keep waiting for you but you never come Is this in my head? I don't know what to think He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring

And said "Marry me Juliet You'll never have to be alone I love you and that's all I really know I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress It's a love story baby just say 'Yes'"

She had a dream one night. Luca died. Y\N didn’t remember ever crying that desperately, Audrey tried to calm her, but they knew that the only thing capable of doing so was miles away.

As soon as the hours permitted her, Y\N called Luca. She told her dream and he said nothing, he only hummed and soon said his goodbyes talking about a final urgent business.

Weeks passed and only letters came. Two to be exactly. A deal was made and Luca was free. Waiting was all she could do. And at this point, the small voices in the back of her mind got louder.

Distracted and with two of his men watching over her, Y\N walked back to the now familiar neighborhood with the groceries the Italian woman asked her.

“I do hope you can teach me this recipe Audrey, I had to fight two not so polite old ladies for this vinegar” The girl laughed remembering the ladies at the cashier.

When she received no response, she turned to the figure in the living room. The groceries falling from her hands as her body moved slowly at its own accord.

“You’re back” Y\N whispered with tears in her eyes. As Luca opened his arms with a smile in his lips, she ran. “Oh my god, it’s really you?” Her hands travelled between his cheeks and his neck

“I promised you, didn’t I? I hope you set up a date, mi bella” Luca said taking the little velvet box in his hand.

#luca changretta imagines #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic

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bailspogue · 4 years ago

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𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒: 𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐀

( 𝑗𝑗 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 )

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦. ─── When those hot summer nights come to a close — transcending within the early hours of those scorching mornings consumed with the presence of the troublesome Pogues you can hope for as good a day as any but when an inside joke between two best friends becomes ambitious JJ Maybank can only wonder if friends are all you both will ever be.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠. ─── swearing & underage drinking

𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑. ─── no

𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑡𝑜. ─── part one

Rays of golden sunlight disintegrated against the rugged surface of the shallow waters swirling beneath the depths of their joyful ignorance. Warmth deflected from those very same waters wallowing all else in a sunny summertime radiance as those rays of golden sunlight ignited your skin and all thoughts seemed to vanish from your mind — How blissfully unaware from all injustices committed in the world you lived in.

If only you could not have seen the truth burrowed deep within the golden radiant sunsets, sunkissed smiles — a paradise filled with heavenly promises for those who would pursue the lives they have so plentiful longed after. Desires left to the imagination as they stumbled across the pearly white beaches amongst their flawlessly sculptured landscapes — an ideal life to endeavour towards.

One not the many were blessed with — thoughts of the unfolding events of the night before had entranced your mind one more those faint bruises that had scattered amongst the many blemishes of the tanned skin of JJ Maybank along with those few days his presence was dearly missed at The Chateau had become a strain upon your conscience — A sense of worry had manifested within yourself.

❛ What we up to boys — m'lady. ❜ A delightful welcome fell from your lips smothered by the ferocious winds whirling through the loose strands of your hair only ever so slightly wavering your carefree stance — lowering your head benevolently to curtesy one of the closest friends you had ever had watching how she feigned an extravagant posh accent and emulated your elegant greeting while you could only laugh along with her words.

❛ Anything illegal? ❜ You questioned — breathless you remained standing beside the vessel a somewhat pleasant smile brightening your lovely features when a suggestive indication of mischief made itself known within your eyes.

❛ Most definitely not. ❜ Kiara answered a gracious laugh hidden within her joyous tone of voice while your eyes lowered towards the blonde sat beside her. Those captivating blue eyes caught within your taunting glance before he too extended his hand steadily — feeling the gentle touch of your fingers decorated with the splintered remains of rosy nail polish clinging to them while those skimmed across the palms of JJ Maybank's calloused by the many hours of labour.

Finding yourself deliberately stepping aboard the roughly polished deck of The HMS Pogue as your eyes wandered around once more — the sight before you warm your heart as you observed the people you had known your entire life enjoying the scorching summer air and the refreshing sensation those whirling winds brought to the shores of paradise.

❛ As if you wouldn't be up for some crime. ❜ JJ taunted a smothered laugh intertwined within the blatant sarcasm of his words — perhaps the fluttering of his aching heart brought on by your mere presence should have concerned him more but that sight of you, wallowing in a sunny summertime radiance along with those infamous sunkissed smiles adorning your lips, was more than enough to make those doubtful thoughts vanish.

❛ What would ever make you believe such utter bullshit? ❜ You laughed in disbelief with the slightest reminiscences of a smile lingering upon your lips — along to the words of his friend JJ had seated himself upon the very edge — bare feet scarcely touching the waves down beneath them before his eyes had found themselves attached to your lounged form once again.

❛ The breaking and entering last night. ❜

❛ Dumbass. ❜ You muttered underneath your breath while his eyes softened ever so slightly at the sight of your state of feigned annoyance — before a mischievous smile adorned his handsome features while he elevated his head to engage your whimsical glare with a reassuringly taunting wink of his own.

He lived for the seething glances however fleeting you had brought upon his form only fueling into his antics more all while he laughed along with his own words awaiting an answer from You that was more than a mere insult muttered underneath your breath — when all you did was roll your eyes and scoff ever so slightly at his antics, directing your attention towards Kiara who you had found yourself pleasantly lounging within the sunlight with. Limbs entangled amongst one another lost within a conversation he could only assume to entertain the pair of you for the coming afternoon — wasting time away with the brightest of smiles adorning both of your lips.

❛ Dude. ❜ You declared, the slightest tinge of amusement hidden within the blithe tone of you voice — his curious eyes along with those all around you were no longer wandering your form they had found their attention brought to your hands. ❛ I brought gifts. ❜

Moving nonchalantly as if to obtain an extensive engagement from Kiara Carrera and all those seated along with her upon the deck — regarding ever so suspiciously how those bitten fingernails sauntered amongst the rigid lavender material of the worn-down bag that had already been seated conveniently between your thighs to find the bumper sticker you had bought for her buried scantily beneath some disregarded clothes from the preceding day.

❛ If you leave trash — you are trash. ❜

❛ Thought you would like that one. ❜

❛ I fucking love it. ❜ Kiara declared whilst those reminiscences of a sunny simper converted toward those infamous sunkissed smiled unbeknownst to the many of them aiding to the lighthearted reputation that had become theirs — those carefree Pogues sauntering amongst the shores of the Outer Banks trouble pursuing wherever they stood.

❛ You are officially her favourite. ❜

❛ Don't get all bitchy. ❜ The tone of your voice had lowered threateningly so. Your fingers sauntered along with the saturated material — a desperate attempt to reach for the other one you had bought. ❛ I got you something too. ❜

When those beautiful eyes of JJ Maybank fell upon the feeble material you held in between your fingers — bright-coloured letters amongst an ingenious white background, the words in fair Verona written in cursive lettering. However confused he was by the meaning surely hidden behind it — the thought of him signifying within your mind brought that intimate fluttering of his heart, only ever seemed to be reserved for you.

When you stood there it all felt so unreal a world entirely different than the one he had left behind even just for a little while — all those intrigues that had devoured his conscience thawed those feelings of guilt that had held their aching grasp upon his heart. You had wished nothing more than to be yourself — unapologetically and truly you away from all those eyes. However, in those eyes of JJ Maybank, you had already become what you so feared to be. Perfect.

❛ Two households — both alike in dignity. ❜ Pope stated awhile JJ Maybank laughed in disbelief — his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly while a frown formed upon his features. Watching the edges of your lips twist upwards within an unwavering smile.

You had found yourself stood cautiously upon the HMS Pogue once more — reunited with those you cared for so dearly with the purest of smiles upon your features. You too distinctly remembered the many times they had been all they had finding reassurance in one another’s company — under the influence or not you trusted them with your life.

❛ In fair Verona, where we lay our scene. ❜ You joined in — holding onto the bottle tightly afraid as if to spill all upon the deck. Kiara laughed louder than she had ever before that evening when bittersweet beer poured over those delicately decorated fingers but rang the bottle against those of Pope and you once more — a lively sound remaining within the humid summer air.

You found yourself wishing for moments like this to last a lifetime — to be surrounded by those golden rays of sunlight warming your skin while all those around you laughed freely blissfully unaware of the violence brewing underneath the shallow surfaces. A desire of your own you cherished — however unattainable.

He sought an answer within her softening eyes — the adoration hidden beneath them brought him a discernment of overwhelming ardour seething his skin where yours had touched his so thoughtlessly.

You could no longer withdraw the sense adoring that had prevailed the corners of your lips to transform into an unwavering smile amongst the many thoughts of him that ensued within your admiring subconscious once more — eyes wandering amongst the wounds that devised their very own patterns across the delicacy of his blemished skin every detail of him had you mesmerised and falling ever so easily before you conversed once more holding onto that very slender hint of adoring within his piercing eyes.

❛ Romeo and Juliet. ❜

#Outer Banks #outer banks imagines #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj obx imagine #jj #jj obx #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow imagine #pogues #pogue life #The Pogues #kooks vs pogues #tuserscout

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batfamily14 · 4 years ago

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An: Jason Todd x Reader!70s chick. The reader meets a mysterious bad boy at party. Barley knowing each other more than a day the two fall in love. Will they last or is it too good to be?

Rating: Explicit

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Chapter 2

A thick white sweater hung loosely off the girl’s frame paired with low cut blue bell bottom jeans and black platforms. Her hair stuck out on either side of her wool knitted cap. Her full, pursed lips frowned as she could barely breathe, the fumes of marijuana invaded her nostrils. Her freshly wet shoes from snowfall sank into the shagged carpet inside the packed unfashionable cheap sorority home. She left a dark trail as she navigated through the crowd holding Barbra’s hand like a life line. Barbra’s fiery hair like a red river flowing behind the beautiful young woman as she squeezed through the guest.

The girl cursed under her breath as the drink she was holding sloshed around in her red plastic cup, the liquid dampening the sleeves. Slowing a moment Barbra glanced back. Her green eyes greeted Y/n’s own, a sly smile pulled at Barbra lips. “Great turn out, huh?” Barbra commented loudly over the droning of the music. Which had just changed from The Beatles to a more electrifying melody of Jimi Hendrix. Y/n only nodded , not bothering to waste her breath to yell over the sea of people. Barbra only offered a knowing smile, before she tugged Y/n’s again until the two eventually settled in the back. The red haired woman smiled gleefully as they approached a group swarmed in a tight huddle, deep in conversation.

“Hey, Richard!”Barbra chimes, sauntering up to

a handsome man who looked up from a small blonde. His eyes a brilliant mesmerising blue, they remind Y/n of gazing up at the sky on a cloudless day. He groomed a lazy hand through his tousled black hair, sweeping it from his tanned face. “Hey baby.” He smiled earnest, pecking a kiss to Barbra’s cheek. “Richard, I’d like you to meet Y/n.” Barbra gestured to the girl behind her. Richard gave another charming smile Y/n’s way, tilting his head playfully. “Hey, I remember you from the theater program, the fall showcase of Romeo and Juliet.” He beamed and offered his hand. “My name is Richard but I prefer Dick. It’s nice to see you outside college.” Y/n takes his hand shaking it. “You too.” She replied shortly and dropped his hand. She tasted her drink and grimaces trying not to gag at the distasteful mixture of different alcohols.

“Are there anymore shows this year?” He continued seeming to not notice. “ Not sure.” She croaked, her throat and mouth burning from the aftertaste. “The spring showcase maybe? That is if the school can afford it.” She shrugs. Dick nodded understandably.

“Yeah, I heard Romeo and Juliet was a bit of a bust.” he replied mindlessly. Barbra gasped and elbowed his side making him jump. “B-But I digged it.” He stuttered quick and flustered, his face tinted with blush. He slumped an arm around Y/n’s neck leaning forward, and she could smell his expensive cologne. The delicate scent somehow overpowered the musky heat of the party. “Well, i'm glad you...liked it.” She faltered , her voice small as she held her drink close to her chest like a safeguard. “How’s football?” She inquired. Dick rolled his eyes to the ceiling leaning away, he awkwardly pulled at the collar of his shirt. “We are definitely not making the playoffs. We only won one game this season, but there’s always a next time, right?” He shrugged. “And you know what? Hopefully there is another show, I know you’ll kill it.”

Y/n's smiled, but she shakes her head brushing off the compliment.

“I don’t know about that. I didn’t even get the part of Juliet, I played her mother.”

“Well, every role is important right?’ He chirped. He held her eyes smiling, leaving Y/n disorientated again. Barbra interjected, “You know there’s a lot of people I want you to know tonight, Y/n.” She steps between the two, separating them. “Let me finish showing you around.” She takes Y/n hand rougher than before nearly yanking her off into the crowd. Dick waved goodbye and shouted after them, “And a happy New Year to you Y/n!”

Barbra pushed passed the guest, and practically dragged Y/n along. “Since you met the oldest Wayne, it can’t hurt to meet the others.” She said, looking around. “There’s Tim.” Barbra points to a young long dark haired teen in a band tee and baggy jeans much too big for his smaller body. He sat on the stairs surrounded by a group of people. The same blonde girl from earlier is draped around his side. Her purple sheer dress flows down the steps where they sat. “He’s the youngest of the adopted brothers and that’s his girlfriend Stephaine.” She points to the girl. She and Y/n walk again into the kitchen, there they find themselves near the speakers. Marvin Gaye sings a soulful melody.

“It’s a great night.” Barbra commented as she rested against the kitchen’s island. Y/n agreed, and sipped her drink growing used to the acidic taste. Barbra nudged her, until she gave in looking at the red head . “Oh come on I know parties aren’t your thing.” She chuckled, causing Y/n to squint her eyes at her curiously.

“Then why invite me?” She puzzled.

“Because I missed having you around.” Barbra admittedly truthfully, shrugging her shoulders. Y/n frowns remembering just how much time had passed between the two. “I missed you too.” She said sincerely , and Barbra half smiled at the sentiment.

“So,...” Barbra began, leaning up. “Are there any guys who you're interested in? Ya know besides Richard.” Y/n cringed, letting her drink sit abandoned on the counter top. “Sorry about that, I didn’t know what to do.” She apologized. “ It’s not your fault. Dick flirts with everyone, it’s just his personality.” Barbra huffed. Y/n gives her a long look but she avoids her gaze. “I'm just hoping you get laid tonight.” Barbra changes the subject casually leaving Y/n dumbfounded.

“What?” Y/n coughed . Barbra laughed, sweeping her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know.” She sighs, looking off into the crowd in thought. “You’ve been a virgin ever since we met, haven’t you thought about it?”

Y/n scoffs, crossing her arms defensively. “Of course I have. Who hasn’t?” She retorted.

Barbra smirks, side eyeing her suspiciously but Y/n scowled at her and then breathed a breath of annoyance.

“Look, I’m fine with not losing it at the moment, especially to some drunken idiot.” She nodded towards the party goers. Picking up her drink she tossed it aside into a trash bin. “Too bad all the best of the Waynes are taken.” The red haired girl remarked. Y/n was about to agree but stopped for a moment thinking. “Wait...” She began. “Aren’t there like three of them?” Barbra’s face fell and she grits her teeth in annoyance. “Oh yeah, you mean-”

She’s interrupted by a loud voice calling her name. Barbra turned on her heels finding Dick waving her over. She shoots Y/n an apologetic look before hurrying off towards him. Y/n can’t help but to watch as Barbra's face lights up and Dick leans to kiss her, his hand entangled in her hair. He held her close, whispering in her ear, and the girl laughed full heartedly. Y/n forced herself to turn away.

Sometime passed and Barbra had yet to reappear, alone in the kitchen Y/n steals a bottle of alcohol, with its company in her hand she wanders through the crowd aimlessly. Her eyes observed the guest surrounding her, watching them in their own worlds and suddenly she felt small.

It wasn’t like Y/n didn’t want to go to parties, she just figured she didn’t belong in places like this. She wasn’t like Barbra, she didn't have an overflowing amount of friends or the perfect boyfriend. They were polar opposite, always had been, and Y/n constantly found herself on the outside looking in. Deep in thought she’s startled when a hand pressed firmly against her back. She whipped her head only catching a glance of Dick as he smiled at her, rushing out the front door with other boys. She wandered, sipping from the bottle carelessly until she found Barbra again slumping onto the stairs next to Tim. As she made her way over, the room seemed to spin and found herself feeling warm and light. Pink Floyd played drowning the house in drum and bass.

“Sorry, I left you.” Barbra groaned as Y/n plopped down next to her. “Dick needed to go practice with the guys late again.” She sighed. “It’s like all he does nowadays.” Tim offered her his beer, and she took it from him drinking. After nearly downing the entire bottle Barbra attempted to stand wobbly, using shoulder Y/n for balance. “I should really stop drinking when I'm upset.” She says aloud but more to herself. She shook her head angrily before taking a few deep breaths. When she glanced back at Y/n and Tim’s worried expressions her eyes shifted quickly before the two.

“ I almost forgot,” she said suddenly. “ Tim, this is Y/n and Y/n this is Tim.” Tim and Y/n shared an odd look before greeting another. “You like Pink Floyd?” Tim questioned. Y/n bobbed her head. “I like all music.” She responded. “Well, how about we dance?” He suggested. He reached down and gripped her by the arm, pulling her up and away before she could answer. Y/n looked back at Barbra who talked with Stephanie now, her head in hands as she spoke. Tim ushered Y/n to a space on the floor and Y/n pardoned herself as she bumped into the other dancers. Tim gripped her waist and Y/n followed in example by wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“So, It’s been a hell of a night.” He said. Pressing his body up to hers. “I heard from Barbra you're looking for some fun tonight!” He whispered loudly in her ear. Y/n rolled her eyes, pulling back. “I wish she’d stop telling people that.” She sighed. Tim laughed drunkenly and began. swinging himself to the music very unrhythmically. “Well, half of the people are too drunk to see straight, ‘tis not a good idea.” He warned. Y/n shook her head unfazed. “Trust me I wasn’t looking.” She grunted. Tim nodded as they began dancing again.

“So, it must be kind of crazy being Bruce Wayne’s son?” Y/n inquired. Tim gives her a strange look. “Probably more than you can imagine but I’m not different from anyone else here.” he says finally. The two slow down their movement as the song switches to a softer tune, Y/n sucks in her cheek before continuing. “Why is it crazier than I think?” Y/n questioned and Tim stiffen for a moment. He sighed and twirled her around before pulling her close again. “He’s.. not as he seems.” He hesitated.

Tim leaned in close, his breath immersed with beer. “Have you met him?” He asked. Y/n tried not to show her discomfort as his breath invaded her air. “No.” She answered quickly. “It’s just so interesting, your dad practically owns our school.”

He cocked his head, giving her a wicked grin.

“What about me? Aren’t I interesting?” He said slurring his words, coming dangerously close to her face. “I’m not boring you am I?”

Y/n‘s turned her head. “No.” She backs away putting some distance between them, but Tim flushed them close again. This time Y/n pushed him away, he nearly fell as he fumbled back. He looked at her bewildered and Y/n‘s eyes widened. “I’m sorry.” She said flustered. “I think I need a moment.” Y/n pushed through people, she breathed quickly, her anxiety setting in as she needed to escape or she’d suffocate in the tight room. She fled to the balcony doors, she struggled with the lock before finally stepping out and taking a deep breath. She hastily closed it again, the cold fogging across the glass. She barely noticed the man facing away from her as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself for warmth. The man smoked looking over the rail to the city below them. “Fuck.” she mumbled, rubbing her face frantically. “The Wanye are so weird.” She thought to herself. Her and the mysterious stranger stood silently for a moment, the distant explosions of fireworks the only sound between them. Now and then, someone near lit a firework that made the sky glow in brilliant colors above them.

Finally breaking the silence the stranger said “You don’t look like you’re enjoying the party.” She glanced over at him, only to meet the back of his head. She tilted her head, curling her lips in a thin line, his face was barely visible in the dim lighting. “Neither do you.” She retorted. The dark haired man continued to stare out at the city wordless. Y/n rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly before speaking again,“I’ve never seen you around before.” She continued.

The stranger huffed, “That’s not surprising.”

He took a small box from his pocket, pulling out a cigarette before he offered the box to her. She shook her head no, and the man chuckled before sliding the box away, lighting his cig. “Worried about your health, huh? While drinking a bottle of vodka?” He said pointedly. She looked down at the bottle in her hand, it was half empty. Y/n snapped her head at him.

“I don’t always drink.” She countered defensively.

“I don’t care.” He responded dryly. Y/n pulled a face at him, rolling her eyes to herself. “Look, perhaps we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.” She said and shifted until she was fully facing the back of him. “I’m Y/n.” She pulled her best smile offering her hand but the stranger didn't comply. In fact he took a long drag of his cigarette, purposely blowing it up into the air above them. Y/n let’s her hand drop feeling uncomfortable. She held the bottle closed to her chest and rocked on her heels.

“Well, can I at least know your name?” She insisted. “What would be the point of that?” He questioned. “You probably won’t remember by morning anyway.” His head nodded towards the bottle again. She felt herself beginning to fume from his rudeness. She became enraged and the bitterness of it churned inside her. Perhaps, it was the alcohol that made her suddenly brave or rather stupid but either way she strided over, poking the stranger in his back.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think are but you can’t just talk to me like that!” She exploded. The stranger suddenly dropped his cigarette onto the concert floor smashing it under his boot. He turned and rounded on her slow and menacing like a hunter on to its prey. The girl backed away now fully aware of what she just did and afraid.

The stranger stopped short remaining in the shadows as he glared at her. Her blood drained from her face and her heart hammered erratically in her chest. Finally his eyes met hers in darkness and she saw they were a piercing blue, narrowed, rigid, and cold. The fury inside them burned like hell’s fire. The sight caused the girl to stand frozen in place, her mouth dry as she tried to speak. All her words suddenly caught in her throat. The bottle of vodka hung loosely forgotten between her fingers before accidentally being dropped and shattering messily on the ground. The girl yelps loudly, gaining the attention of a few other guests as she tripped almost toppling over. The man suddenly moved again gripping her arm so she wouldn’t fall but she snatched it back. Struggling to inhale as she stepped away, her foot crunching on the glass

Before anything more could happen the balcony door flew open and Barbra glared at the man in dark. That's when Y/n remembered how to breathe, but was still unable to speak and she watched as Barbra and the man stood each other down and she looked dumbly between the two. Barbra glanced at Y/n and asked, “Are you okay, what happened ?” Y/n was speechless as her and Barbra’s eyes trailed down, looking at the broken bottle and Barbra shot an enraged look at the man again.

“What’d you do?” She bellowed, her brows creased and face tense. Y/n stared at her wide eyed and mouth open. She quickly latched a hand on Barbra’s shoulder turning the girl towards her . “It’s m-my fault, I d-drank too much tonight.” She stuttered. “I think I should go home.”

Barbra looked at her stunned, her eyes filled with worry. “A-are you sure?” She questioned holding Y/n hand. Y/n nodded, pushing passed her going back inside where everyone watched her unsettled and whispered in low murmurs before going back to the party. Y/n felt warm from embarrassment but didn’t stop walking until she reached the front door. Barbra closed the balcony door harshly before moving fast to catch up with her. Y/n walked quick and numbly, her head heavy from drinking. Barbra walked next to her as they both headed downstairs. She shoved herself through the door. Noticing a cluster of motorcycles on the lawn.

“What happened back there? Are sure you’re alright?” Barbra pressed on. “It's nothing, I’m fine.” Y/n brushed her off and shivered as they walled outside back into the bitterly cold streets of Gotham. “Thanks for inviting me, it was good to catch up again.” She sniffed, before she could turn away Barbra developed her in a warm embrace and Y/n closed her eyes savoring it. The two girls gave each other weak smiles as Barbra let her go.

“Hey, Barbra?” Y/n asked. “Why did you react the way you did back there?” Barbra cocked her head oddly surprised. “I thought you were in trouble.” She answered bluntly. “Yeah but I wasn’t.” Y/n blurted. “I’ve never seen you that way before.”

Barbra shrugged. “Well, I’m sorry you had to see me that way at all, he just has a way of getting under my skin ya know?” Y/n raised her eyebrows curiously. “He who?” Before Barbra was able to speak she was interrupted yet again by the entrance door flying open with a loud bang. Y/n and her whip around to two men standing in the doorway. A rugged dark haired man with familiar blue eyes glared at them. Behind him was a red haired hair man who just peered at the two.

The man in front pushed through the door and out into the snow nearly knocking himself in y/n his leather jacket brushes harshly against her. The red haired man follows quickly behind uttering a small sorry. The two leap onto the motorcycles and with the sound of the engine roars loudly making her slightly jump causing her to nearly fall over. Her eyes wide when the blue eyed man gave her a challenging look. She blinked back at him. Standing tensely. He drove away wordlessly with the red haired man on his tail. When Y/n turned around she found Barbra attention transfixed on the two, an unreadable look on her face.

“Barbra?” Y/n called. “Are you alright?”

“That was him.” She only said, still staring in the direction they rode.

“Who?” Y/n asked. Barbra turned to her. “What do you mean who? It was the guy from the balcony.”

Y/n heart stills. “ Which one?”

“The dark haired one ”

“And the other?”

“That was friend Roy.”

Y/n looked after the two as they vanished down the street.

“What’s his name?” Y/n asked almost cautiously, a feeling of dread sinking in her stomach.

“Jason...” Barbara started.

“Jason Todd, The last of the Wayne’s Boys.”

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason peter todd #red hood and the outlaws #x y/n #tim drake #dick Grayson #barbra gordon #bat family

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