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harryforvogue · 2 years

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a harry and mia blurb in which mia drags harry to a halloween party and it ends up being not so bad? 3k words fank u. takes place only months after h and mia get back together <333

***

Halloween dress up party tonight at Zack’s. I’ll meet you there at 8

Harry sighs as he looks down at his phone. He types back a reply:

I am not going to any Halloween party. Especially not tonight.

Yes you are. You don’t have any plans for the rest of the night.

I just don’t care much for Halloween.

But Zack is, like, your best friend!!!!!!!!

After me, though.

Right?

RIGHT?!

What's the point if I don’t even like Halloween.

You don’t have to like it to celebrate it.

That makes no sense, Mia. You go and have fun though.

She doesn't text back for some time and he thinks she’s gotten over it, but minutes later, he gets a text that he reads in a very threatening voice.

You promised me a relationship, Harry. Get up and get ready for this party. You have plenty of time.

If she’s on the verge of an angry rant, he needs to brace himself. He’s never been a fan of Halloween, and he’s especially never been a fan of the couple-y part of the holiday. What was wrong with watching a nice horror film back at his place, under some blankets, drinking hot chocolate? Maybe he can use that to bribe her.

Let’s say I decided to go. I don’t even have a costume. I do, however, have plenty of horror movies at my place.

I don’t like scary movies :(

I also have the Scream movies, you nut

Still scary :( Just wear a suit with a bow tie and call yourself James Bond. Easy fix

If he had a nickel for every time someone said this to him, he’d be richer than he already is.

That’s so boring though.

His phone suddenly rings as Mia calls him after his text is sent. When he picks up, she starts talking immediately, but her voice is far away as if she’s put him on speaker. He can hear the shower running in the back.

“I don’t care what you wear. You are coming with me because I want to go and you promised me we’d go out more,” Mia says. He hears something fall.

Harry sighs, rubbing his forehead. “You are so difficult.”

He can imagine her grin when she says, “I am. I also have costumes I want to wear so I’m not taking no for an answer. Come on. You still have so much time to get ready. You don’t even have to do much at the party but drink and pretend to be interested in all the ghost stories Amara wants to tell. And trust me, she has a lot to say about ghosts and paranormal stuff in general. You know up until the age of 13, she swore she was some kind of mediator? It’ll be fun.”

“Mm,” Harry says half heartedly. “Sounds like so much fun.”

“It will be. I’m going to start getting ready now.”

“What are you planning to be?”

“A surprise.”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Will I like the surprise?”

“I think you’ll love it more than anyone.”

“If we go to this, then you have to stay over with me tonight and watch some movies.”

“Okay! But no scary ones.”

“Only scary ones.”

“I don’t like those!”

“I’m compromising, Mia. It’s my only day off this week.”

“Fine!”

“Good. See you soon then.”

Harry should have known something was up her sleeve.

Ever since he started spending more time with Mia, it’s been hard to concentrate on anything else. He loves that she feels so familiar to him still, kissing and loving him as she always used to. A part of him feels sad about never realizing just how much she loved him when they were in their previous relationship, because everything she does now resembles what she used to do.

And if she loves him this much now, she must have been holding herself back from suffocating him with love months ago.

He ends up being a decent outfit. Since it’s his day off, he doesn’t want to put himself in a suit. It’s too boring, like he said, and he’s just not in the mood to wear formal clothing tonight. It’ll also mess up his planned outfits for the upcoming work week.

It’s all thanks to Google that he finds a costume that he has the clothing for, and something that he thinks Mia will appreciate.

He shaves his face first, because it’s what Mia likes and because it’s a part of the costume, and then he takes a shower.

He has pomade in his cabinets, but this outfit in particular requires heavy duty gel. He doesn't have any, but Mia’s kindly left some over from one of her previous visits, as well as some hair spray.

So he stands before the mirror in just a towel after his shower. He reaches for her gel and opens it, scooping some out. He looks at himself in the mirror and sighs. The things he does for this girl.

Carefully, he begins to smooth the sides of his hair back until the strands rest flat against his head. It’s difficult to do since his hair is so curly, but he finally manages. Anything that doesn’t rest flat goes behind his ear. The top of his hair gets more gel, and it’s combed over to one side, the long lengths at the front getting twisted so they hang over his brow.

He scowls. Yup. That’s a greaser look.

“Good enough.” He washes his hands.

The black jeans and white shirt combo isn’t hard at all to gather, and he has plenty of belts, but he really has to dig through his closet for that leather jacket he was once gifted all those years ago. He recalls telling himself to donate it, but in that moment he’s glad he didn't. He throws it on, as well as some perfume.

He calls Mia as he’s leaving.

“You better not be calling to back out of this, Harry,” she says upon picking up.

Harry sighs and locks the door behind him. “Why don’t you ever say hello when I call?”

“I need to be on my feet at all times around you.”

“I’m just calling to let you know that I’m leaving now and that you need to bring a jacket because it’s bloody freezing outside.”

“I’m from New York, I can handle some cold weather.”

“I brought you an extra jacket because I swear I knew you were going to say those exact words.”

There’s a smile in her voice. “You’re the best.”

“Mhm. See you soon. Bye.”

“Bye!”

***

Amara really does love her ghost stories, Harry realizes as she seamlessly transitions into a new story about some paranormal activity she noticed when she one stayed overnight in a hospital as a child. Harry calls bullshit on it because how is it that only her room lost power and not everyone else’s? Someone must have been playing a prank on her. But he doesn’t say anything because 1. that’s Mia’s best friend and 2. Zack’s glaring at him from over Amara’s shoulder.

Zack isn’t someone who should be messed with when it comes to his girlfriend. That much Harry understands. He respects it.

Mia texts him that she’s here ten minutes after he’s arrived, and he looks over at the entrance, waiting for her. Unfortunately, the moment he does, Zack hauls him over to grab a drink, and Harry has no choice but to comply.

“Amara said Mia is coming as well,” Zack says as he pours Harry a suspiciously fruity drink that Harry has no plans on drinking. Even garnish it with a bit of mint.

“I know.”

“How are you guys doing?”

Harry looks at Zack skeptically. “How are my girlfriend and I doing?”

“Don’t bust the messenger’s balls, Ponyboy.”

“Why can’t Amara just talk to Mia about us? Isn’t that what they love to do?”

“Amara is under the impression that if something is wrong with your relationship, she needs to be ready to sweep Mia away if necessary. She doesn't think Mia will talk to her that openly if you are having problems.” Zack takes a long sip of his drink and then grimaces. “Wow. That’s sour.”

“I appreciate your girlfriend’s concern, but no, Mia and I are just fine.”

Zack smiles. “Good.”

“And I’m offended that she’d think I’d be the problem.”

Zack raises an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you be?”

“Fuck off.”

His friend tilts his head back and laughs, and Harry can’t help but smile along with him as he takes a sip of his own drink, forcing it down his throat when his tongue is assaulted with sourness. He pulls a face and Zack gives him a “I told you so” look.

“What’s so funny?” a soft voice behind them says.

Zack looks over Harry’s shoulder, and Harry turns around to find Mia there, leaning against the counter, reaching for her own red cup.

“Hi,” she grins, her eyes flashing behind her black mask. “Sorry I’m late.”

In that moment, Zack is gone, the party is gone, and Harry no longer cares that his taste buds were just ruined for the entire night, because Mia is in front of him, leaning all sexy against the counter on her hip, in a skin tight black suit, her hair down, and her mouth painted red. Her eyeliner is sharp, and her nails painted black, filed sharply.

“Fuck’s sake,” Harry swears beneath his breath.

“Hi, Mia. I’ll tell Amara you’re here.” Zack walks away from them, giving Harry a pointed look over his shoulder as he heads back to Amara. Mia’s grinning still, sweeping up closer to Harry.

“Hello, handsome greaser,” she says, touching Harry’s lapels. She pulls on them slightly to bring him closer. “I was preparing myself for James Bond, but this is so much better. And look! We still match! Even more now, I think. Wow, we look so hot!”

Harry has to put his drink down and place his hands on her waist. She never wears clothing this tight, and he nearly groans to himself when his hands touch the smooth latex around her hips. His grip around her waist hits perfectly, as if it’s meant to belong there, and then he crushes her against his chest.

He leans down and presses a slow kiss to her red lips. “Catwoman, hmm?” he murmurs. “You look fucking ravishing.”

Mia giggles as Harry kisses her neck, tilting her head back to take a sip of her drink. She doesn’t wince like Harry did, and he feels her throat work when she swallows. He pulls back and kisses her mouth again, tasting the sour mix. When he pulls away, her lipstick slightly ruined, but he runs a thumb under her lip to fix it.

“I knew if I showed you what I was wearing,” she whispers, “you’d show up to my place and never let me leave.”

“You’re so right about that,” he growls softly. “Would have locked you in my room.”

Harry's hands travel a bit south until Mia giggles and pushes him away. “There are people here!”

He pulls away and rests his hands on the counter on either side of her now. True, Zack’s house is now filled with more people and the music is louder. He slides his drink over to hers.

“I don’t want mine.”

“It’s so good though.”

“It’s too sour.”

She takes another sip of hers and then reaches up onto her tiptoes to kiss Harry’s jaw. “I love when you shave, you know?”

“Mhmm. That's why I did it.”

“You do so much for me.”

“I do.”

“What an awful girlfriend I am,” she quietly teases. “Making you come out on your day off. To a Halloween party, hm?” She drags her hands down his chest. “Making you get all dressed up just to drink sour drinks.”

Harry smiles. “You’d be the worst, but everything gets better when I look at you.”

Her eyes light up. “You haven’t even seen how amazing my ass looks.”

“Don’t have to see it to know it.” He raises her chin to kiss her softly, wanting her lipstick on him. “I would love to see it though. Just to make sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Show me.”

She shivers at his voice, but only smiles coyly. “I want to go join the party, actually.”

“Mia,” he warns softly.

She reaches for his hand and turns around to lead the way. He does exactly what she expects him to do, look down at her ass. He groans and swears again, reaching for her soft waist, tugging her back to him. She squeaks when he squeezes her extra tight, pressing her against his cool belt.

“Behave,” she throws over her shoulder softly.

Harry kisses her temple, gently dragging his fingers over the base of her neck. “Are you really going to be the one telling me to behave?”

“Yes or there will be consequences.”

He chuckles. “I’ll behave only because it seems like it’s hard to take that suit off of you. Or I would be dragging you off already.”

She shivers again. “It was hard to get into so I bet it’s harder to get out of.”

“You’ll need some help, hm?”

“Shh,” she says, since they’re nearing people. She has to let Harry go to hug Amara. Harry is absolutely and shamelessly looking at how beautiful her thighs look in the latex.

He knows tonight is going to really test his patience, but he’s ready for the game.

***

He does manage to sneak her off to a vacant room upstairs, pressing her against the locked door as he kisses her fervently. She’s had a few to drink, so she clings to him even more, her hands running through his hair, messing up his style.

His own hands roam all over her body, lifting her hips to meet his, and her legs wrap around his waist.

“You are fucking killing me,” he whispers, digging his fingers into her thighs. “This suit. You never told me you bought it.”

“Told you it would be a surprise,” she gasps, her eyes fluttering shut when Harry’s lips migrate down to her neck and collarbones. He gives her a small bite that has her whining and bucking her hips into his, desperate for some type of friction. He’s never been one to be very interested in latex, but his mind is reeling right now, racing with several thoughts of things he wants to do to her, positions he wants her in, the sounds he wants her to be making.

“I’ve,” he whispered, “endured enough of this party for you. Let me take you home.”

“We haven’t even taken any shots yet,” she complains half heartedly. “I wanna take some. Amara spent all night making jello shots.”

“You are so difficult. And it drives me insane that I love that about you.” He pulls away, grabbing her face between his fingers. He kisses her hard, messily. “So much.”

Mia tugs on his hair, whimpering into his mouth. He presses his hips against her to relieve some of the ache, but it only makes matters worse.

He can’t breathe, overwhelmed by her presence. Finally, he loosens his grip on her face and slows their kisses. He releases her back to the floor and then rests his forehead on hers, both of them catching their breath.

“I bet you like Halloween now,” she says, grinning. When she tilts her head just right, he can see her lipstick smeared all over her cheek. He makes no move to fix it this time.

“Love it,” he murmurs, holding her tight to his chest.

“You’ve gotta stop grabbing my ass though. Amara keeps laughing at me about it.”

Harry drops his hand and gives her a squeeze. “Can’t help it.”

“Ouch!”

Harry pulls away and gives her a look. Then he slides down to his knees and wraps his arms around her thighs. “That does not hurt. Little liar.”

Her voice comes out all breathy. “Oh. What are you doing?”

“Showing you what really hurts.” He kisses her right thigh sweetly before biting it, sinking his teeth into her flesh.

She whimpers and grabs his hair, wrapping it around her fingers tightly. “Fuck.”

He grins when he releases her, but he doesn’t come back up to his feet immediately. Instead, he pulls out a little comb from his back pocket of his black jeans and hands it to her. “You ruined my hair. You fix it.”

She takes the comb with shaky hands and then works it over the sides of his hair, perfecting it back into its signature greaser look. She messes with the top a bit until it falls over his right eye, the gel now dissipating. The curls in his hair are returning, making him look even more attractive.

“Thank you,” he says, kissing her thigh where he bit, finally standing back up. “Back to the party?”

“Mm?” Her eyes are a bit glassy.

Harry smiles. “Or do you want to go home?”

She blinks out of her stupor. And then scowls. “You can’t trick me! You can’t just do something sexy and expect me to go home with you.”

“Mia, you are definitely going home with me. It’s just a matter of when.”

“You’re so cocky!”

“Am I? Or am I just correct, Catwoman.”

She shivers. “You…you can’t take me home early!”

“No?” he says innocently. “Good thing that’s not at all what I was trying to do.”

“Liar! I can see right through you. I’m so much smarter than you.”

She reaches behind her to grasp the door handle, yanking it down to open the door.

“Of course you are,” he chuckles, reaching for her hand, tugging her closer to him as they walk out side by side. “So much smarter, my love.”

#harry and mia #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles x oc #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #no smut because EW #anyways yes here you go i hope it's good

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solar-halos · 7 months

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ballad appreciation post

i’m so happy :D. i’ve watched ballad twice this week. the second time i watched it w my brothers i didn’t have anything to say about it bc i was mostly just on edge about not getting kicked out of the theatre but since i teased a breakup over this Boyfriend was on his best behavior so i actually got to watch the movie without anyone asking a million question a scene. in related news we have another lucy gray truther on our side. here are some of my thoughts

1. tom blyth opening screen …. i still got jumpscared seeing him in the nude

2. the way they pronounce lucy grays name still catches me off guard. i’ve been ignoring the “i” completely and just say “bard” in my head (yk bc she’s The Bard). with that being said i know the mayor was in like 2 scenes but i think he did a really good job picking out lucy grays name he looked crazy

3. hunter schafer is my eyebrow inspo. also i’ve mentioned this before w the bathing suits having a 1920s and 50s vibe but she’s giving 1940s to me. but obviously glamor 1940s not war ridden 1940s

4. watching this w someone who hasn’t read the book is so enjoyable. when lucy gray dropped the snake down mayfairs shirt Boyfriend got SO tense “waitwait did she just try to fuckin murder her??” god forbid women do anything

5. okay sorry but the first time i watched it i was trying not to smile (in a laugh-y way) when lucy grays singing part came on. when i read it i thought that part ate but actually seeing it was so different for some reason. i think this feeling might be amplified if you’ve never read the book bc my sister felt the exact same way she said it was kinda fuckin cringe. idk if it was just bc we were at home or she was just feeling silly but she started singing that one camp rock song that’s like “we can’t back down.” which ok yeah that was kinda lucy grays song in a nutshell but it kinda did piss me off bc the “you can kiss my ass!!!!” part was coming on soon and i was stressing over them missing it. also didnt lucy gray have a full on dance break in the book?? god. they should have kept that in

6. okay that scene where she bowed and d12’s nasty ass coal industry being in the background is still one of my fav scenes. ugh loved it

7. wovey idk what it was this time but when she was like “im rlly good at climbing” i almost burst into tears. guys she’s really good at climbing

8. hunter schafer literally killed this. i’d argue that tigris is just as much of a product of her environment as snow is but i don’t rlly know how to articulate that

9. speaking of the reading vs watching thing i mentioned earlier: it rlly jumped out with grandmaam. idk why but when i was reading it grandmaam was SO scary and intimidating to me but watching her so frail and skinny and slightly senile talk about how lucy gray is a killer just seemed so crazy. especially since we know snow believes her

10. “they’re gonna get bombed aren’t they” wtf i walk into every movie clueless how are ppl straight up predicting entire events. but again w the reading vs watching i was GAGGED when they got bombed in the book but in the movie it seemed weird?? like “get the camera on her” and then it just feels like they’re trying to take up space until the actual bombs land. but whatever im being so bitchy i wasn’t surprised bc i literally knew it was gonna happen

11. “i want coral making my latte” and i want tanner on the grill

12. i think it was tanner, but i rlly liked his outfit. i liked all their outfits actually. i’ve been watching so many reels abt the costume designer explaining her inspo for the costumes (like tigris and her 1940s glamor thing going on)

13. okay seriously why did they cut out the kiss… and then when they actually did kiss why did they have lucy gray pull away at first…… i know francis lawrence saying this was a love story was icky but he did a bad job at portraying that so maybe we were worried for nothing (jk we were worried for all the right reasons bc if i had a nickel for every time someone said “i thought they were gonna get married!” about lucy gray and snow i’d have two nickels. which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice). also not to be a hater but snowbaird fans actually fucking irritate me. like the fans that are like “but what if it was wholesome 🥺🥺” what if lucy gray tried to kill him and he tried to kill her back? what if he managed to track her down and she bit him again? what if they hate each other so much that they’re only together bc they wanna see the other person suffer? what then

14. tbh seeing billy taupe made me feel a bit guilty 😭😭. almost terminated my ao3 acc but i get that feeling every time someone mentions something im obsessed w in a very casual way so it wasn’t rlly that serious. also someone either on tiktok or insta was like “was i the only person who preferred snows curls to his buzz cut?” and i genuinely couldn’t tell if they were joking bc like. everyone prefers snows curls to his buzz cut. even snow prefers his curls to his buzzcut. with that being said billy taupe needed to lose the cap

15. ngl the ballad of lucy gray baird actually did make me cry a bit… lucy gray was only 16 she needed to be on tumblr

16. where’d she get that guitar from tho

17. i wish they would have kept in the tributes death parade. that part was icky

18. okay there was a scene where lucky had a drink and then he flicked something off it and pup (i think that was his name) flinched cos it landed on his neck that was so fucking funny i hate that this was the first time i noticed it

19. okay seriously why did they make dill get poisoned. also that cornocopia scene. hmph

20. the first time i watched it i remembered being really confused why lucky called mizzen Merciless Mizzen. but omg after he tried chasing lucy gray down in that vent i understood that was crazy of him. and it did seem like he was an actual teenager which actually made it more unsettling. i feel like rachel zegler has a baby face (i actually think she was 17 in west side story and she looks the exact same now) but mizzen’s actor sing singing her name was perfect

21. lamina at the beam… didn’t she manage to kill someone in the book??

22. “does this mean we get to go home??” god i wish

23. but also “please lucy i can’t have killed all of them for nothing” i liked that she didn’t call her lucy gray that was a nice touch. but also. what a crazy thing to ask. i wonder if she thought lucy gray would be chill w that

24. take this with a grain of salt i haven’t read the books in so long but when snow snuck up on lucy gray in the meadow didn’t she level her guitar at him and then be like “sorry lol i still have one foot in the arena :P” they should have had her hit him in the face w it

25. the old therebefore still hits. i wish they would have included scenes where snow is shown to genuinely dislike her songs like in the books. in the movies he seems more disinterested in what she’s doing which is still bad but also it doesn’t seem as overt as him literally hating on her for no fuckin reason. which i guess is bc we have no insight into his head, like i think someone pointed out that in the book and movie he cried over sejanus being dead but in the book we know it’s bc he was scared it was gonna be him next but in the movie it just looked like he was sad. which i get it he’s perceived as nice by other people but the audience is not supposed to be other ppl we know what his motives are. im not sure how that’d be solved, cos i guess it would be pretty annoying to have him voice his thoughts and you also don’t wanna spoon feed ur audience but like. idk. seems like something you’d wanna make super clear bc to me it didn’t seem like you were supposed to like / sympathize with him, but the way it was done kinda seemed half baked

26. speaking of that… Boyfriend did not get the memo that snow was fucking crazy. “i thought he was gonna marry lucy gray in d12” WHY? like why would you even think that. were u not paying attention during the hunger games trilogy marathon where would lucy gray fit into that. since my sister thought the exact same thing she tried being like “see? it’s confusing” but it actually isn’t. that’s still a better reaction than my brother he was actually being a fucking weirdo about it cos when snow found lucy grays scarf in the woods and then the snake bit him this mfer went “she tried to kill him” no!!! but i think there might be something to be said about how snow, completely sober, came to the same conclusion as my brother, who was so high he couldn’t even remember who sejanus was

27. okay that’s a lot of sibling lore so atp i think i better end the post. bye

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #long post #i can finally stop posting about my damn rainbow dress now i wore it and it was very warm

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quietbluejay · 3 months

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Vengeful Spirit 3

oh another immortal what are they called again not eternals (note from future bluejay: YES I KNOW THEY'RE PERPETUALS DON'T @ ME)

i like her this is going to be a theme, isn't it Alivia is currently living in a disaster movie

is there like, a reason there's more sex in this novel than in like every single other horus heresy novel combined? and by that i mean "the incestuous couple who are secretly chaos cultists and rule the planet get up to undescribed sexy chaos stuff" "alivia is sleeping with the guy she fake married and caught feelings for" and this so it's not explicit at all lmao maybe i should have said "acknowledgment that sexuality exists" is the running theme about responsibility (for children) and sons and fathers going to mean horus has an illegitimate child running around he needs to take responsibility for? lol

welp purple prose is out rip sexy dream dude

this is very funny given i was complaining about explicit depictions of cannibalism but no swearing (it wasn't explicit in this book, i was thinking about different books lol) but also, point of order!!! swearing by the throne is a 40k thing not 30k!! the throne is a deep dark secret in the bowels of the imperial palace

man Mort's really been taking a lot of damage in this book

diversity win! chaos forces allow freedom of religion!

also i forgot about this but during the scenes with horus and abaddon all i could think of was the "zeke, my pecans" "your pecans father"

raeven: eyyy lyx: drops animal guts in his lap like a cat

l m a o

wow well are they gonna turn them all into daemonhosts? honest question

oh the possessed dudes slow down time wack

you know given the amount of leeroy jenkinsing horus has done it's really a surprise he wasn't killed before this, when he didn't have the plot armour unless it's meant to be a recent behaviour he's picked up? but no he did it in False Gods even if I thought that was very stupid and ooc you know if i had a nickel every time a primarch fought a Knight I'd have two (…point five) nickels which isn't a lot but huh

do not fold, spindle or mutilate

tubal is right and should say it

(Morbus, huh) (....heh) I loved the part where Grulgor grulged over everything

HAHA WEEB

i have a bad feeling about this oh phew okay it's just draining his blood

hahahaha lmaooo get rekt eugh degloving (don't google that)

just so you know that new coke horus may be a pal but he's still evil

also, doctor lady is cool oh yeah another thing, McNeill has finally managed to be mostly normal about women!! we love to see it

lol

i love it oh joy strangling women im really getting some fate vibes hmmm we know mcneill is for real a weeb given the FMA stuff in The Crimson King…. bluejay, having only seen one media (fate/zero) where women get strangled by an angry man who has lost everything and was sort of doing it for them but not really: getting a lot of fate zero vibes from this

i mean shocker who'd have thought the incest couple didn't have the healthiest marriage

OWO OWO OWO OWO

OWO

augh the last hope that something good could have come from it

WHAT is this metaphor dude at least it didn't involve milking this time

solitude doesn't mean introspection but also lmao she's right perturabo hates introspection

Horus enjoys explaining things!

he's just like me fr

tfw you go back to your childhood home after you went NC with your parents

#bluejay reads warhammer #warhammer 40k

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ruth-posts-pokemon · 6 months

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If I had a nickel for every time someone asked if I was scared of insert-team-member-here hurting me I’d have a very annoying number of nickels. Those are my FRIENDS you assholes.

So what if Red Tide is big and tall and strong, I don’t see y’all questioning champion Dragons Georg about his trio of Dragonites, and yet they can use fricken hurricane if they want on top of being ridiculously strong and fast! Maybe my partner just wants to hang out and eat beans and photosynthesize, you ever thought of that? Huh? Maybe you shouldn’t judge an entire species based on the biased storytelling and such you see on TV and in movies as if they aren’t like any other Pokémon with various personalities and temperaments and goals. Have you ever seen a Dhelmise go silly mode like a Meowth on catnip? I have.

So what if Soul is an Aegislash, he’s also constantly startled by the doorbell and gets freaked out by the vacuum cleaner and rarely changes into blade form for any reason other than being able to “hide” behind his shield. “What if he possesses you to control your life” he doesn’t even like making his own decisions for his own life, I’ve seen him have the others pick out what treat he wants, I don’t think he would willingly take on the pressure of being in control of a whole person. He’s content to be a follower rather than a leader, and that’s ok! It just means he’s usually about as imposing as a Hoppip.

Lumen

So what if Kazoo is a big spider who can shoot lightning, he’s also a silly little guy who sounds like his namesake and doesn’t always pass the mirror test. He’s the type to get in the sink under the faucet and take a few minutes to figure out where the water is coming from and piece together that if he moves he will stop getting dropped on. When he was a Joltik he used to try and sit on top of Red Tide’s wheel and keep going around and around every time it turned and ended with him upside down, like an unintentional reverse Morpeko wheel. He’s also fuzzy and likes being pet and tries to share electricity with Cheerio. One time he freaked out because a balloon got stuck to his abdomen via static and he didn’t know what to do about it.

Ok joke aside, Lumen isn’t gonna go around burning souls indiscriminately, nor are most Chandelure if we’re being realistic. People tend to notice when you bring grief everywhere you visit and usually don’t respond in a way that’s beneficial. She prefers outdoor potted plants, candles, and whatever will get someone’s attention quickest. She’s an agent of chaos, not a harbinger of death. Unless you’re a lawn or plant that’s already seen too much sun and not enough water. In which case I’m very impressed that you’ve managed to read this far; mayb

Hold on I gotta go real quick there’s tomfoolery afoot and I probably need to stop it

#pkmn irl #rotomblr #ruthrambles #ruth’s creachers #I gotta… figure out a tagging system huh #this is what happens when you don’t post and then decide to start posting #no interference from my Rotom phone’s resident prankster yet at least #here’s to hoping it stays that way so I don’t have to explain incomprehensible meme posts #that I didn’t create or upload myself

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novelmonger · 1 year

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1, 7, 13, 14

Okay, you specified FMA or LotR, but I'm gonna do both because I can and because no one else is sending asks in.

The character everyone gets wrong

FMA - I think Hawkeye may be the one most likely for people to get wrong. If I had a nickel for every time I started reading a fanfic where Hawkeye is a trigger-happy lunatic that everyone in the office lives in fear of, and/or is a strict taskmaster who is perpetually annoyed with everyone, I'd be rich. She's a very complex and layered character, but so many people don't seem willing to look any deeper than the surface of a sequence that was played for laughs, and they make that her entire personality. Never mind all the examples we have of her being gentle, being someone children feel safe enough around to share their hopes and fears, getting emotional, relaxing and joking with friends, teetering on the razor's edge of suicide.... There are so many sides to her, and it's difficult to get her right, but it's also astonishing to me just how badly some people characterize her.

LotR - There are a few contenders, but...maybe Merry? Most of the blame can be laid to the movies, I think, but a lot of people seem to take him as "the more boring but less stupid Pippin." That does him such a disservice, because when you really pay attention to him (especially in the book), there's so much more going on than being part of a comic relief duo who eventually manages to kill a Nazgul. In actuality, he's debatably the most capable all-around of the four main hobbits, and he deserves much more recognition than he gets.

7. What character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because of how the fandom acts around them?

FMA - Hmm...you know, I'm not sure I hate any of the characters, really. Even the villains are at least interesting and well-developed, so I don't mind them as far as that goes. They serve the purpose they were made for. The character I come the closest to hating would probably be Kimbley, but that's entirely for what an awful person he is in canon. I will say I find certain prevalent descriptions of characters to be annoying because everyone uses them and they stopped being amusing twenty years ago. Like saying that Envy's hair makes him look like a palm tree. I've never liked that. But Envy is actually my favorite Homunculus in the manga/Brotherhood version, so....

LotR - The Show That Shall Not Be Named is almost enough to make me dislike Galadriel. Almost. Not quite. (And I haven't even watched said show!) Faux-Galadriel is a hateful abomination that I want to kick off a cliff, and any time a fan tries to defend her, I hate her that little bit more. Real Galadriel is super cool, though. I'm hoping that my current re-read of The Silmarillion and LotR will cement the real Galadriel in my mind again. This is what happens when you butcher a character and flaunt it like you're better than the person who created the character in the first place.

13. Worst blorbofication

FMA - I'm not entirely sure I understand the term "blorbofication," but I must confess I've never understood the obsession with Greed in the fandom. Like...yeah, it's a pretty cool concept for a villain and an interesting departure from the rest of the Homunculi because he's a rebel. But I don't personally find him that likeable; he creeps me out as much as the other Homunculi, and he's more unpredictable too because he's got his own agenda going on. I appreciate his help in the fight against Father, but I don't understand why he gets so much focus by certain circles of the fandom.

LotR - This is actually really hard, because all of the characters are so good, it's like...yeah, of course that's someone's blorbo. But if I have to pick one, I think I'm actually going to go with Legolas. Not because he's a bad or uninteresting character - by no means! But I think - partly because of the way he was handled in the movies, where he's little more than a pretty face who's good at shooting things - when fans latch onto Legolas as their blorbo, they forget a lot of details that make him so much more than that. Like how sassy he is. Or how just kind of...weird he can be, as an Elf in a party of beings who are much more down-to-earth.

14. The one thing you see in fics all the time

FMA - Ohhhh, there are so many dumb things to pick from ʘ‿ʘ I mean, there are good things (or at least things with the potential to be good) that crop up a lot too, like turning a character (usually Ed or Mustang) into a chimera and the rest of the characters having to deal with it. Or there are the things you see in fics from most fandoms, like self-inserts and "my super special OC tags along with the protagonists for some reason and basically nothing changes in the plot except that the protagonist falls in love with them." But one that's more specific to FMA is the fic where Ed randomly starts singing (sometimes with the accompaniment of a piano or maybe a guitar), even though there isn't the slightest indication in canon that he has any musical ability or interest whatsoever. It's usually very emo and angsty, and almost always features a Vic Mignogna song.

LotR - Confession time: I hardly ever read LotR fics. Mostly that's because no one can write as well as Tolkien, and whether the writer attempts to or not, it's often quite jarring when you compare it to the books. (I say this as someone who is currently attempting to write an LotR fic with the full knowledge that I will never reach that pinnacle of excellence. Generally, stories centered around hobbits don't stick out to me as much as ones about, say, Elves.) Anyway, I don't think I have enough data to really point to any trends. But one thing I'm pretty confident I can say, even without having read that many fics: Too many fics are focused on shipping.

Send me more spicy asks!

#ask and you shall receive #ask games #x-i-l-verify #full metal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist #fma #lord of the rings #lotr

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ken-f-cker · 1 year

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Drive the book facts!

following his head-on collision with the mustang, a guy in a pickup truck offers him a ride because 'I’m guessing is you may have good reason not to be around once the Man arrives'

pickup truck guy takes Driver out for lunch and then brings him home as well. if I had a nickel for every time Driver missed that someone wants to fuck him I'd have like a dollar by now

driver drinks with the guy at his trailer until the guy passes out. driver steals his truck and leaves him a 'thank you' note and a stack of $50 bills

one of the memories driver has of his mother is of being nine or ten and watching her put together a mail-order accent table, with her first being happy about it then being upset that it didn't look like it did in the catalogue

also mentioned in this memory is 'Always agree. That was the first rule.' and 'Watch closely: that's the second rule.'

he has his hair 'buzzed almost to the scalp' at a barbershop and then picks up oversized clothes and 'wraparound mirror shades' next door before going to Nino's

at Nino's, he kills a young security guard who's out for a smoke with wire around his neck and leaves a Nino's coupon with 'we deliver' circled in his pocket

that being said the bag wasn't mentioned but there's a line about you got your money back so I think he might have dropped off the bag with the money with the security guard?

Bernie Rose (Bernard Wolfe Rosenwald) and Nino (Isaiah Paolozzi) have known each other since they were six; 'Izzy' is an old childhood nickname Nino had but Bernie's never used it for him until now, telling him that he's going to be out from business with Nino after they take care of Driver

like the movie, stealing the money was also something Nino did on the side without telling bernie

there's also a line about, after they finish a bottle of wine together, 'Old days, they’d jam a candle into the neck, put it on one of the tables. Goddamn romantic.' which I'm choosing to believe means they're divorced™

driver follows Bernie to a Chinese place and breaks into his car while he's eating to get his address from his car registration. he leaves another Nino's coupon, this time with a smiley face drawn on it, taped to the steering wheel

#driveblogging #I Should tag these lmao so. driveblogging it is #drive 2011 #not ken

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auxiliarydetective · 2 years

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Since you infected me with A-Team brain rot, what would their musical AU be like?

Ooooh, this is actually a bit of a challenge. Something tells me The A-Team and musicals aren't supposed to mix - well, unless you're looking at Murdock. He thinks he's in a musical either way. I won't be mentioning all of the songs on the show, but they have to be a part of the musical au. Finding 100% accurate songs will be hard sometimes, but I'll still give you vibes.

Speaking of Murdock, since he already sings on the show from time to time, he should be able to sing longer and you'll never know if it'll turn into a full-on number with choreo and everything or if B.A. will interrupt him with a record scratch or smashing his casette player. In taking all the songs I know that have been sung on the show and that I thought would fit, I saw that most of Murdock's were Beach Boys songs, so... That's his show-assigned vibe, I guess. Something that I think would be super funny would be a huge, flashy number of Happy Pills by Weathers in the VA - or literally anywhere - , led by Murdock of course.

B.A. probably wouldn't sing but I can see him doing a spoken word piece, like something Hamilton-esque. I could totally see something like My Shot, except less about US independence. That kind of song could also work for plan-making or building something, so maybe he only ever "sings" in those group performances.

Now, Face. Oooooh boy. You just know Face's songs would be good. The first song I thought of was Joel Grey's cover of Razzle Dazzle from Chicago, but that's honestly also a Hannibal song, so... both it is! His song, the song that would be his "character theme", so to speak, is definitely Good Old-Fashioned Loverboy. On a darker and more symbolic note, I could definitely see him singing Take Me To Church, interpret into that what you will.

Hannibal, as I said, gets Razzle Dazzle together with Face, but I could also totally see him sing something older or something that shows his role in the team as the dad figure. Something a bit sad, but maybe Smile by Mikky Ekko could work. Then again, he also has huge vibes for Feeling Good. You know, THAT song my Michael Bublé. Perfect for scheming Hannibal. Another song I think could work is Specialization by Marilyn Monroe and Frankie Vaughan - something older, something that has to do with movies, old Hollywood... I don't know who'd sing Marilyn's part. Amy doesn't really have the vibes, but she's my first pick for now.

Amy would slay Face with Womanizer, let's be honest. She's got the attitude and it could even fit her voice. Similar vibes: Confident by Demi Lovato. She's a queen, no doubt about it.

And because I love her too much...

Kit gets songs too. Her introduction song could so be The Greatest Show because her circus background is so vital to her character. One more cheerful and upbeat one would be I'm Still Standing by Elton John. Maybe even as a duet with Murdock, just for the vibes? Staying with duets, she could sing Faith by Stevie Wonder and Ariana Grande with Face or, even better, Do I Wanna Know. Another great song: Do It Like A Dude with B.A. as her hypeman. She could also really belt out Church by Fall Out Boy.

Group songs! The first one might be an odd choice, but... California Dreamin'. Simply because of Murdock's show-assigned Beach Boys theme and because it sounds like something they could sing in the car. Maybe Murdock starts it or Hannibal does and the others join in or do backup vocals. Or in B.A.'s case, he might just tap the steering wheel in the rhythm. The second one is even weirder: You Are My Sunshine. If I had a nickel for every time this song appeared on the show, I'd have two nickels, which isn't much, but it's weird that it happened twice. Because of this, I image them quietly singing or humming it at some point. But this last one should really fit better: Walk on Water by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

So, without further ado: Here's the playlist and the story behind it

We get introduced to the team and Hannibal and Face make a plan to get Murdock out of the VA. Then, the whole team hops in the van and we get to my fanfic on how the team meets Kit during Children of Jamestown. The story is pretty much the same as in the fic and she joins. Now, we get some more Murdock shenigans and Kit and B.A. bonding. After this, Murdock and Face do their little bit with surf city, showing Face's attitude towards women and setting up the beach theme of the whole musical/movie. Face tries to flirt with Kit but she declines, causing Amy to comment on him being a womanizer. The team arrives at their beach destination of choice and the audience is shown that Kit and Face do have feelings for each other but Kit is just blocking everything out and Face doesn't wanna be pushy because she's a team member. After that, more Murdock shenanigans and Hannibal making a plan, the attempt at executing it and its failure, after which Hannibal tries to "cheer up" the others. Face and Kit are still very much in love and we get a mashup between Church and Take Me To Church to show that. The two of them team up to save the rest of the team and we get a super fun happy end for both the idiots in love and the team as a whole.

#the a team #howling mad murdock #b.a. baracus #templeton peck #hannibal smith #amy amanda allen #oc: kit kelley #musical au

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farmnap · 3 years

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Fluff Alphabet-Sapnap

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

He likes your humor. He likes your beauty. He loves everything about you. Mostly, though, he loves your kindness. You are just so nice to him. You hold him, whisper sweet things to him, and make him feel like its all alright.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

He definitely wants a family, obviously not anytime soon though. He believes that he’d be a good father and that you’d be a good parent as well. He doesn’t tell you this, but sometimes he dreams about having a child, their little hands and feet. He goes through baby fever like every two months.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

He prefers to hold you most of the time, it makes him feel like he’s protecting you. He will spoon you most nights or hold your head to his chest and wrap his other arm around your body. Sometimes tho he lets you lay on top of him and just sleep. He likes your weight on him, thin or not.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

i assume they'd be chill or more just hangouts. Like going to an arcade or an escape room. If it was a special occasion, birthday or anniversary, he’d take you to a fancy restaurant. He’d hate getting dressed up and eating food that isn’t worth the money, but he’d do it forever if it meant he got to see you happy.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

My lifeline. You make his world turn and his heart keep beating. Everything he does is for you (In a non weird obsession way) he just wants you to be happy

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

He knew he was in love when you showed up at his house to hold him after he sounded upset on a call. that's it, no questions asked, you were just there.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

He’s so gentle it’s almost infuriating to you because sometimes he wont even touch you. Like when y’all first started dating, he wouldn't hold your hand because he didn’t want to squeeze to much. He wouldn’t cuddle you because he didn’t want to suffocate you. He treats you like a doll

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

after he got over the hand holding fear stated previously, he holds your hand tightly, almost afraid to let go. He holds your hand whenever he can: in the store, in bed, on walks, in the car, on dates. He always has his hand in yours.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

His first impression of you was probably about your appearance. He’s only a 20 okay so he probably looked at your butt or chest first. Obviously when he actually talked to you, he would realize you were funny and nice. But yeah, purely physical at first.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

omfg yes. He gets so jealous. Sapnap’s not the kind of bf to get like toxic or rude when jealous tho. He just gets insecure and sad.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

You kissed him first, he was way too nervous to make the first move. He kisses you softly and with his hands on your cheeks. He loves holding you when you kiss, holding you close. Once Y’all are more comfortable with each other he may even put his hand on your neck while kissing you. It makes him all giddy.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

He would say it first, on accident. probably after being intimate and having you on his chest. Too lost in his mind, it just comes out.

“I love you”

“What?”

It scared both of you at first but then you smile and cuddled closer. It didn’t matter to him if you said it back right then or not, he knew you cared for him.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

When you guys stayed in on your 6 month anniversary. The plan was to go out and eat at this super fancy place but you guys missed the reservation. Instead of being sad, you guys stayed home and watched a bunch if princess movies and cuddled. It was sweet and the first time y’all actually just hung out.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

He doesn’t spoil you too much actually. He knows you can buy your own stuff and doesn’t try to take over if you don't ask him too. BUT on special occasions you are getting everything you even look at. he once dropped about 2,000 dollars on jewelry as a gift on your birthday.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Pastel yellow. Its a color of friendship and trust, which is what your relationship is built on.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

He uses the usual babe a lot, i cant see him using darling im sorry. He also 100% uses baby and sweetheart. Honey is also used. But mostly he would use variations of your name.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

He likes castles and royalty. Obviously there is still queens and stuff but he loves the whole castle fantasy. He thinks about being a knight in shining armor to save you.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

He uses this as an excuse to stay in bed and cuddle. Like that’s all he would want to do. No food, no responsibilities, just snuggling.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

When he was single he would just sleep or eat. We’ve all been there and there's nothing wrong with it. But now that he has you he would rant to you or cry. If you were upset he would listen to any and all problems you had without comment. He would just be there for what ever you needed.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

he talks about school, his family, his friends, and a shit ton of random Minecraft. Even if you got sick of it, you stick around bc he’s cute when passionate.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

in the most respectful way, he likes to have sex. it makes him happy and calms him down. Obviously if you weren’t feeling it, he wouldn’t make you and would go for just kisses and cuddles, also watching Moana bc he loves that movie.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

he shows off his set up and shoes. He splurges on those things and will be damned if the whole world doesn't know.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

He wouldn't propose for a while and surely not until y’all are both out of college and stuff but when he does its a whole thing. He takes you to a beach saying something like, “I heard the boardwalk food is amazing” or something like that. He would probably invite dream along to record and also being there for the biggest moment of his life. Obviously, you say yes and its so cute.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

(I’m sorry about this one I’m not a big music person)

"I'm Gonna Love You Through It" by Martina McBride is what i picked bc he would always be there no matter what, he just loves so much

Y = Yikes (Do they ever mess up in the relationship?)

Sapnap has made many many mistakes. He can be rude sometimes without even realizing it, he can spend more time with George than you, he can ignore you for a week for something petty. Thankfully, he comes to his senses after a while and talks to you about it. He tries to be as good as he can and communicate to you but he’s not perfect.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

oml he would beg you for a dog everyday! he just wants a German Shepard named Bently is that too much to ask?

#sapnap #sapnap x reader #sapnap smut #dream mcyt #mcyt

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bored-mumma · 3 years

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Sebastian Stan - Fluff Alphabet

MASTERLIST

Bucky Barnes version

A = Attractive. What do they find attractive about the other?

He loves your passion. How even little things in life can get you excited and happy. He also loves your strong will. You two being in the lime light takes a strong personality and you match that perfectly.

B = Baby. Do they want a family? Why/Why not?

He really wants kids. He likes to imagine Sunday mornings, your children waking you up and you all making breakfast before spending the day playing games and just being a close family. Nothing makes him happier than thinking of his future family.

C = Cuddle. How do they cuddle?

No matter how warm the nights get, Sebastian likes to be snuggled entirely under the blankets. Usually one of you will be spooning the other but if its too hot then just either your legs or arms are slightly tangled.

D = Dates. What are dates with them like?

Sebastian doesn’t do ‘little’ dates. He sweeps you off your feet every single time. You’ll come home from work expecting a normal evening at home to find some new fancy clothes and jewellery lying down on your bed, along with a note telling you what time to be ready by. Bang on time, Sebastian knocks on the door (you live together but why not be romantic and come pick you up like he used too) with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. Before driving to a beautiful restaurant, champagne sitting there waiting. All evening he would throw compliments at you, repeating his love. If you felt like it, you two would go for a walk along the sea front or just drive randomly and talk away.

E = Everything. You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)

You are my light.

F = Feelings. When did they know they were falling in love?

He couldn’t really give a proper time when he knew he was falling for you. It just kind of happened! He knew he missed you when you were gone, even if you spent all day together. He knew he dreamt of waking up to your face everyday and he knew his heart skipped a beat every time you kissed him. One day he just realised ‘holy shit, i love you’.

H = Holding Hands. How do they like to hold hands?

I = Impression. First impression/s?

You two got along very well. Your personalities just clicked and the two of you became friends fast. It took a few months, but that friendship soon turned into love.

J- Joker. Are they into pulling pranks?

He loves them, a lot more than you did. Barely a day went by that Sebastian didn’t play some sort of joke on you. Usually you find it funny and playful but other days you want to slap his pretty face.

K = Kiss. How do they kiss?

Most of the time Sebastian will hold your chin with his finger and thumb, tilt your head up and kiss you deeply. Although sometimes he’ll be a little more rough and grab your waist, pulling you towards him.

L = Love. Who says ‘I love you’ first?

You do. After a particularly breath taking date and nearly six months together, you finally felt as though you were ready to say those words. When you uttered those words, Sebastian grinned at you before saying it back.

M = Memory. What’s their favourite memory together?

You two were walking home from a lovely date night a restaurant. You both had a few drinks so couldn’t drive and you were struggling to catch a taxi so decided to take a longer walk across the parks. It was a stunning night and half way home, he placed his jacket on the ground and the two of you lied down, watching the stars and resting your feet. Feeling merry anyway from the drinks flowing through you, you lied there for nearly an hour, just joking together and sharing kisses. Going from the last letter, this was the moment you looked up at each other and said I love you for the first time.

N = Nickel. Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?

You are so, so spoilt. Literally anything your eyes land on, Sebastian will buy it for you. Even stuff you had never seen or even heard of, if he thinks you’ll like it, he’ll buy it, Date night? He’s got you some new clothes and jewellery for it. Anniversary? You cant see the floor in your home from all the gifts. And birthdays are just insane with the amount of stuff he gets you.

O = Orange. What colour reminds them of their other half?

Sky Blue. A lovely calm, stunning colour that reminds him of summer days. Days he loved to spend with you. He would often buy you some sky blue jewellery, making a matching dress too.

P = Petnames. What petnames do they use?

You two are cringe as hell and like to think of the most sickening names for each other as possible. Bunny, sugar-plum, precious. Just as cringy as possible to make each other laugh.

Q = Quaint. What is their favourite non-modern thing?

Sebastian's a simple man and loves the simple things. One of those things is a gentle bike ride. On a hot day with the cold breeze cooling him, he loved to just bike through the country and forget about life's trouble for a while.

R = Rainy Day

A busy man leads a busy life. Rain or shine, his days barely change. Although on the rare days you both have a day together with nothing to do and its pouring it down outside, he was known to drag you out in it. Whether to just dance in the back garden or to go for a quick run, Sebastian loved to just be out in the rain for a while with you. It felt like a reset for you both and it was those moments you treasured the most.

S = Sad. How do they cheer themselves/others up?

As most people know, Sebastian talks to his therapist often. You try not to pry too much, knowing if he wants to share his feelings with you, he will. But you can always tell when he’s feeling a bit down. It’s usually cured with a cup of tea, cuddles and you dragging your nails gently across his skin to make him feel relaxed. Sometimes he’ll talk to you about what’s bothering him, other times he just wants to feel your touch.

T = Talking. What do they like to talk about?

You two are low key conspiracy theorists. You will often find you both having deep conversations about a theory you saw online or about a new documentary. Whether it was something like aliens exist all the way to the queen is a lizard, you two would have debated on it.

U = Unencumbered. What helps them relax?

As said above, he loves to feel your nails dragging across his skin. He felt most relaxed when lying in bed on his stomach, you lying beside him and dragging your nails along his spine. He would get Goosebumps from it and always felt like he could fall asleep right there and then.

V = Vaunt. What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?

You and your career! Sebastian was your number one fan and would brag about your acting success every chance he could. Even if he’s doing an interview about his own movie, he’ll still slip in there how proud he is of your new project. He couldn’t help it.

W = Wedding. When, how, where do they propose?

It was your two year anniversary and you two decided to take a week off of work. Nothing special planned, just a week to relax and actually get to enjoy one another's company. Sebastian watched you with admiration as you cooked dinner, watching the way you sung along to the radio and how you refused to let him help, insisting on spoiling him. As you stood at the stove, Sebastian walked to the bedroom and grabbed a little box from his bedside drawers. Going back to the kitchen, he stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, head resting on your shoulder.

“This wasn’t how i planned it,” He said, letting go of your slightly to open the box and show a beautiful ring. “But i couldn't wait any longer. Will you marry me?”

X = Xylophone. What’s their song?

wonderful tonight - Eric Clapton

Y = You. You are the ___ to my ___ (e.g. the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

You are the honey to my bee.

Z = Zebra. If they wanted a pet, what would they get?

Sebastian has always wanted a dog! You two ended up adopting a puppy together.

#sebastian stan #imagine sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff alphabet #fluff alphabet #bored-mumma #fluff #sebastian stan alphabet

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wandawxdow · 4 years

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Billy Russo A-Z Fluff

A = Attractive, what do they find attractive about the other?

Other than the obvious (your body) Billy loves your eyes. He often finds himself in a trance when looking into them and is mesmerised by the love and adoration apparent when you look at him.

B = Baby, do they want a family? why/why not?

Billy does want a family in the future, and he wants it with you. Though absolutely terrified to have children, some of his fear is removed with the knowledge that you’ll be by his side. He knows that he wants to be better than either of his parents ever were so that his child has a better childhood than he had.

C = Cuddle, how do they cuddle?

Billy wouldn't openly express his love for cuddling, but he does love it when the two of you get the time. He always finds it comforting and calming when he wakes up and falls asleep with you in his arms.

D = Dates, what are dates with them like?

With both of you leading busy lives, most dates are at your shared apartment. But whether it be takeout after work, a romantic home-cooked meal or a movie marathon, the both of you cherish the time. When both of you have free time, Billy makes an effort to take you out for a proper meal at whatever new restaurant has opened.

E = Everything, you are my ____ (e.g my life, my world…)

Billy believes that you are his light. He’s been fighting his entire life and can get swept up in the violence, but you serve as a reminder of the good.

F = Feelings, when did they know they were falling in love?

Love is a foreign concept in Billy’s life; it hasn't been something he’s experienced or felt as much as he should've. And so, with his lack of knowledge, Billy didn't realise he was falling in love with you until he was already well on his way.

G = Gentle, are they gentle? If so, how?

Billy Russo and gentle are two words that are not often associated with each other. Billy is violence, seriousness and bloody fists yet he allows you to see a softer side. He does little things that matter: making sure you’re covered by the comforter, ensuring he’s there when your sick or stressed, and other things that help your day-to-day activities.

H = Hand/Hold, how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?

Billy doesn't hold hands when the two of you are at Anvil and surrounded by his employees. He doesn't mean to, but once in the building, he’s in work-mode with his serious, business persona. Other times he regularly holds your hand, particularly when the two of you are out in public. It's comforting that he has a grip on you so he can pull you to safety if something were to happen.

I = Impression, first impression/s

Billy first met you at a local bar. He’d been there to blow off some steam and you to drink away the bad day you’d had. He first saw and approached you when overhearing some man hitting on you despite your protests. Billy thought you looked beautiful in the red-illuminated lights with your curled hair and black jeans.

J = Joker, are they into pulling pranks?

Billy’s not big on pranks. Sure, the two of you will joke around, but you never plan elaborate pranks against each other. He’s done small things like hiding behind a door and scaring you as you walk past, but that's pretty much as far as it goes.

K = Kisses, how do they kiss?

Billy’s kisses are either slow and delicate or passionate and rough - there's no in-between. It all depends on his mood and the situation. If he's happy and content, then he peppers you with gentle kisses that express his love. If jealous, angry or filled with lust, his kisses are rough and passionate and often leads to other activities.

L = Little things, what little things do they love/notice?

Billy’s trained to notice small and often overlooked details about people, and so it's no surprise that he picks up on your quirks rather quickly. He noticed and loves how you prefer old movies when in a bad mood and how you hum under your breath when bored and happy.

M = Memory, their favorite moment together

Billy has many favourite memories with you, but if he were to choose one, it would be the morning after you first spent the night together. He woke to see your angelic face illuminated by the light shining through his bedroom windows. You'd both spent the morning in that bed together, admiring each other and talking.

N = Nickel, do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?

It's no secret that Billy is rich, and though he works hard for his money, he has no qualms about spending as much as it takes on you just to see you smile. He’ll spoil you every day, gifting you things you do and don't need because he believes you deserve it all. To him, he wouldn't be a good partner if he couldn't provide for you and spoil you.

O = Orange, what color reminds them of their other half

You remind Billy of the colour white. It's pure, innocent and untainted, just like you. To some the colour may been cold but to him, it's fresh and complete.

P = Petnames, what petnames do they use?

Billy’s preferred pet names for you are ‘love’ and ‘darling’. He uses them most when the two of you are alone and being domestic: “what do you want for dinner, love?” and “darling, stay in bed a little longer.”

Q = Questions, what are the questions they’re always asking?

Billy almost always queries why you're with him. You're so perfect, innocent and bright and he's dark, broken and violent. To him, you're way out of his league, and he could never truly deserve you.

R = Romance, how romantic are they? Cliche or creative?

Billy is a ladies man, and as such, knows how to woo someone. On date nights and especially anniversaries and birthdays, he pulls out all the stops to make the night memorable. To be honest, there's nothing he wouldn't do for you. Billy prefers to express his emotions in a more unique way than the cliche red roses and teddy bears. But if that was the sort of thing you liked, you can be certain he’d do it.

S = Sad, how do they cheer themselves/each other up

If Billy’s in a bad mood, all he needs is you. You can't fix whatever started his mood, but being there helps him clear his head and find a solution. If you're in a bad mood or sad, he knows cuddles and night spent together will help.

T = Talking, what do they love to talk about?

Billy loves to talk about your day - not because it's overly interesting, but because he loves to see you so passionate and happy. He also loves the conversations you have when you both wake and the playful banter after a long day at work.

U = Understanding, how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Billy knows you well, really well. He’s good at picking up on details and accommodating to them in a relationship. Billy is empathetic with your experiences, however, sometimes not immediately. Sometimes he gets angry at first, vowing to hurt whoever hurt you back. But after he's calmed, he recognises that you need comfort like he has many times before.

V = Value, How important is the relationship to them?

Billy hasn't had many people in his life who love and care for him without strings attached. So, when he finds someone who does, it's important to him. He believes your relationship is one of the best things that ever has and will happen in his life.

W = Why, reasons why they love each other

Billy loves your nature; your forgiving, gentle and peaceful nature. It's a contrast to his and one he adores. He loves how you stop to pet any dog you're allowed to, how your nose scrunches when you yawn and how you look wearing one of his shirts in the morning.

X = Xylophone What’s their song?

Billy loves the song ‘Tiny Dancer’ by Elton John because it reminds him of you. Like in the song, the sight of you dancing and singing is always stuck in his mind.

Y = Yearning, how do they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Billy misses you from the moment you have to leave. At first, he throws himself into his work to attempt to mask your absence. However, as time passes, he grows irritable and on-edge; taking his feelings on others. When you return, the two of you spent some time together to make up for the distance then things go back to normal.

Z = Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

You're one of the only people who genuinely loves Billy for who he is. Because of this, he would do whatever it takes to preserve your relationship. He would kill any enemy that threatened you with ease, ditch all material items for the chance at a life with you, and ensure he's worthy of your love.

#billy russo #billy russo drabble #billy russo fic #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine #billy russo x reader #the punisher drabble #the punisher fanfic #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher imagine #the punisher x reader #writing

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 3 years

Text

tuesday again 11/23/21

vacation problems, baybee

listening pitch black, by sencit feat. lady blackbird (deathloop soundtrack). i do not think i will be playing this game since a particular twist was revealed to me (if i had two nickels &tc) and my backlog is already...very long, but this track is a banger. i like this more than many “real” james bond movie opening songs

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youtube

reading mawrth valliis, by EPHK. the schtick is “presented in the original martian” which i think could have been a stronger creative choice if there was less dialogue? the lettering is very pretty, but it’s sort of a frustrating read. i fucking hate the character design and the twist, but the art is lovely in a very textural way, and i’m a sucker for pages like this. 126 p is not a lot of my time wasted

watching the anime otherside picnic is based off the light novel (and manga adaptation) of otherside picnic by iori miyazawa, itself based off the novel roadside picnic by the strugatsky brothers. in short, otherside picnic is a gay genderbent college AU isekai that manages to capture some of the psychological horror and financial desperation of the original. still with me? available free here (legally, even! you’re welcome).

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dailymotion

i care about these girls in a way i don’t usually with anime. part of this is bc this anime does tick all my boxes- young lesbians figuring themselves out, who grow into a well-oiled pair that also goofs around on their off time, a perpetually exasperated handler/patron, The City Is Alive And Will Get You, it’s an adaptation of one of my favorite things, jokes about the availability and type of guns in open-world RPGs that made me laugh like a hyena. there’s a bit about someone growing their hair out that genuinely gutted me. i am probably going to buy physical copies of these light novels bc apparently the POV voice is Quite Something and they’re more explicitly gay.

the animation is Fine, the sound mixing is quite good imo, the emotional arcs were satisfying, i really love halfhour shows bc it’s so easy to watch a whole season in like three days if you’re not careful. hour-long shows are Appointment Television. that’s a Time Investment i simply do not always have

this show (unfortunately) features the US military stationed at okinawa (the marines ARE the ones most likely to get themselves into this sort of situation tbh) and therefore cannot let anything really bad happen to them although i really do think they should just be left to tear each other apart in the Zone/otherside

playing still having a Time with meshes not meshing in sable (also a piece of graffiti i needed to follow to start a quest simply...wasn’t there?) but it’s very forgivable, imo. i am willing to put up with a lot for a pretty game with mysterious solar-system spanning mysteries and wrecked ships to climb around. 4/6 of the way done with the ship AI quest and i am extremely excited and also pre-grieving what i think happened

ANYWAY. BIG DISH YAAAAAAY

making found :) dead :) moths :) in :) my :) new :) sewing :) machine :) cabinet :) so that’s been fumigated to the best of my ability, please cross your fingers i did not introduce clothes moths to my house bc that’s the last fucking thing i need (sewing machine backstory here)

so i haven’t actually started sewing anything yet, and the first thing i was going to make was a new ironing board cover, so it’s hard to prep anything. am i starting with any of the half finished projects i have already cut out? heavens fucking no we’re going to do something with this dreadful flag print i picked up in the summer. setting invisible zippers, truly my beloathed

pattern companies: it’s a shift dress...with a TWIST!

me, every time: it’s a shift dress... with a TWIST!!! :0

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #Youtube

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nightwcngs · 4 years

Text

Jason Todd Fluffy Alphabet

A = Attractive (what do they find attractive about the other?)

Jason loves your legs. Of course, he loves all of you, but the leg thing started when you joined him at a gala and the dress you wore had a slit in it.

B = Baby (do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Jason secretly wants to have kids someday, he's just afraid of becoming a shit dad like his own. He's told you this a few times and is thankful you're understanding of his situation. He just needs some time before he sees himself as ready to become a dad.

C = Cuddle (how do they cuddle?)

Jason is usually the to hold you when you cuddle. He has to touch you in some way. His favorite though? Is when you're laying on your back and he can rest his head on your chest or stomach. One arm is wrapped around you. You know when he does this, he's having one his bad days. Run your fingers through his hair as he falls asleep, he'll talk when he's ready.

D = Dates (what are dates with them like?)

Dates with Jason are always fun. He's willing to try something new if you want. He loves taking you to bookstores and thrift shops. His favorites, though, are when you stay at his apartment, watching cheesy romance movies with take out.

E = Everything (You are my ___ e.g my life, my world...))

"You're my whole heart"

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love)

It was a random day, nothing special. The two of you haven't even been dating that long, just a few months. You randomly stopped by, giving him a small gift you picked up from the store. Jason couldn't describe the feeling in his chest when you told him you had to get just because it made you think of him. It was only after you left he realized what he was feeling. He called Alfred afterwards.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

He tries his best. Jason has rough edges all around. A lot of built up anger and sometimes he doesn't know what he's mad at. He feels like shit when he takes his anger out on you, you don't deserve it. He's working on it with your help.

H = Hands (how do they like to hold hands)

Jason doesn't really like to hold hands. When you asked him why, he told you it was so he could have faster reflexes. Gotham isn't the safest city, you both know that. He'd do anything to protect you and that requires his hands. He opts for keeping an arm around your shoulder or having you hold his arm.

I = Impression (what was their first impression?)

He knew right away he had to get to know you. There was something about you that drew him to you.

J = Jealousy (do they get jealous?)

Is water wet? Jason get jealous pretty easily. His brothers are one thing, he knows Dick means no harm in flirting, it's part of his charm. But when a stranger starts hitting on you? They'll be lucky if Jason doesn't start a fight in the physical sense. If someone isn't taking the hint that you're spoken for, Jason isn't afraid to land a punch or four. It only escalates that far if a hand is touching you or you're uncomfortable. He's getting better at telling people to back off.

K = Kiss (how do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Jason is a very passionate kisser. Very handsy. He definitely initiated the first kiss, not wanting to take his time.

L = Love (who said "I love you" first?)

You do. Jason was sure he loved you, he just couldn't bring himself to say it.

It was one night after a really bad nightmare. It was close to the anniversary of his death, and that time was always hard for him. Once he finished explaining everything that happened to him, he was sure you were going to leave. But when you told him you loved him despite everything else? He was a mess all over again.

M = Memory (what's their favorite memory together?)

See above.

Jason doesn't like to think back to days where nightmares riddle his memories, but he makes an exception for this one. He doesn't know what he did in his second life to deserve someone like you, someone who isn't afraid to love him despite his flaws. But you're here, you love him. That's all he could ask for.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

He tries his very best. He doesn't always buy himself things but if he sees something he knows you'll like, he'll immediately grab it from a shelf.

O = Orange (what color reminds them of their other half)

Calming colors. His life is so hectic a majority of the time. The only time he really gets to be in a sense of calm is when he's with you. You're the calm to the raging storm inside him

P = Pet Names (what pet names do they use?)

Princess is used the most, but he'll call you baby when he knows you're upset with him

Q = Quaint (what is their favorite non-modern thing?)

Jason loves the classics, he'll read them over and over

R = Rainy Day (what do they like to do on a rainy day?)

If you're not with him, he reads. Jason tries to drown out the sounds of the storm outside, the loud noises of thunder bothering him immensely.

When you're with him, the two of you stay cuddled up in bed. You could be watching a movie or some other activity.

S = Sad (how do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Jason bottles everything up until he's practically ready to explode. When he doesn't feel like talking, he's training. Each time his hand hits the bag, he slowly feels the anger fade away. He only comes to you when he can't take it anymore, needing every ounce of comfort you can provide.

For you, Jason takes you to a little diner. You two frequent there a lot, and it's become a safe space for the both of you. You'll talk about anything and everything in the back of the diner. Plus, sharing a plate of greasy food with your favorite person is always a plus.

T = Talking (what do they like to talk about?)

Everything except his family. While he's working on patching up his relationships with them, there's still some sore spots. He'd much rather hear about some random animal you saw on the street then that.

U = Unencumbered (what helps them relax?)

Baking. Jason's love of being in the kitchen started when he was a kid and had to take care of himself. While living at the manor, Alfred helped him improve his skills. With you? He loves to bake. He really enjoys himself when he's with you, making a mess together. He definitely starts fights with flour, really enjoying when he gets to help clean you up.

V = Vaunt (what do they like to show off? What are they most proud of?)

You. He loves that he has this amazing person by his side and he doesn't care who knows it. You're his, and he loves you with everything he has.

W = Wedding (when, how, where do they propose?)

It's not something that's a big deal, just a question that's thrown around one day. When you two decide you want to get married, he takes you down to buy a ring.

X = Xylophone (what's their song?)

Death In My Pocket - Machine Gun Kelly

Y = Yes (do they ever think of getting married/proposing)

He's never really thought about it until he met you

Z = Zebra (if they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Maybe a lab or golden retriever. Could also see him with a cat

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #dc comics #dc comics imagine

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stevesharrlngtons · 4 years

Text

picking out the stitches.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: after letha’s death; peter’s departure; shelley’s disappearance; and a brutal fight with subsequent break up with roman; you escape to the empire state for college and a fresh start. though, after thinking you have been given the space to move on with your life, your father’s unexpected death sends you back to hemlock grove. there, you are forced to confront the reason for your pained departure.

word count: 14.1k (oopies)

warning: mentions of an abusive father

a/n: this is a long bitch, with a possible part two (?) if this is enjoyed by you all! (: i hope the length of this makes up for it taking so long lol. also prob ooc roman bc i love him just being soft

please if you read this and like it, know that feedback is greatly appreciated and i’d love to hear any thoughts you have!! also im bad at editing

Tuna, turkey and swiss, BLT.

No option offered sounded particularly tasty. You had come in search of egg salad sandwich, a surprising delicacy from the Hemlock Grove Grocery Deli that you had been craving since your departure months ago. It felt like comfort food, a way to make being back in town bearable.

But the stockboys seemed to be sending you a message: there was no good reason to be back in town, and no sandwich was going to remedy your pain.

“(Y/N)?”

You flinched at the sound of your name as sweat prickled the back of your neck. The last fucking thing you wanted was to be recognized the second you got back into town. Being forced to interact with any of the waspy bitches or rednecks that attended your high school, especially now, seemed like a personal affront punishable with only your meanest of glares and most backhanded of compliments.

But, who you found had called your name was not only a surprise, but a pleasant one. Not a bitch or mouth breather in sight.

“Peter?” Your eyebrows perked up as you said his name, no doubt unable to hide your complete shock at his sudden appearance.

“In the flesh.” He smiled. That same boyish smile that he always gave especially when you needed to see it.

Your body worked on it’s own violation as you shot yourself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug. He thankfully returned the gesture, gripping the fabric of your dress in his fingers to keep you close. Peter pressed his nose to your temple and you buried yourself deep into the crook of his neck. It wasn’t until a voice cleared behind you that the two of you pulled apart.

“Excuse me,” A man holding a wire basket interpreted, seeming less than pleased to have been forced to witness your reunion.

“Sure, after you, sir.” Peter said, theatrically waving the man past.

“Stupid fucker, couldn’t even go through another aisle.” He watched the man leave with a scowl.

“Shut up about inconiquestional people and tell me what the hell you’re doing back in town!” You said with a wide smile while slapping his chest playfully.

“I think that’s a better question suited for me to you, don’t you think? Last I heard you fucked off to N-Y-C.” Peter said, leaning against the display of sandwiches.

“Yeah? And who told you that?”

“Destiny.”

You smirked and rested your shoulder against the display, “She’s got a big mouth.”

“Big mouth? Who cares if she does! New York is a big deal. NYU, even bigger.”

You roll your eyes at the compliment.

“Hey, no, I’m serious! You always were the scholar out of us. Fucking valedictorian while Roman and I barely managed C’s.” He continued.

At the mention of Roman, you sucked in a sharp breath through your nose, eyes breaking from Peter’s only long enough for him to see your pain at his name.

“You still haven't answered my question, you know?” You said, trying to seamlessly change the subject, fiddling with the ends of your hair to keep your hands busy.

“Yeah, well, it isn’t a happy answer.”

“Enlighten me anyway.”

Peter gives a heaving sigh, a signature of his, “Lynda got pinched for some shit and was transferred out here... I followed.”

Your heart sank. Lynda had always been exponentially kind and understanding. To you, Shelley and even Roman.

“Shit, Peter. I’m so sorry. How’re you holding up?” You placed a comforting hand on his forearm.

“As well as I can given the circumstances. I’m staying with D, so at least that’s good.” He gives a forced smile.

“I’m glad you’re with family at a time like this.” You drop your hand and slouch against the display, matching his relaxed posture.

There was a brief pause between the two of you, before Peter spoke again.

“Usually, when one party enlightens the other, they are obligated to do the same.” He leans in ever so slightly to emphasize his point.

“That is usually the deal, yes.”

“So?”

“My dad croaked a few days ago. Heart attack.”

“Holy shit, (Y/N/N),” Peter interrupted, face falling into a concerned frown.

“No, no. It’s fine. He was a piece of shit,” You shrug.

“Still, he was your dad.”

“Yeah, he was my dad who hit me and my mom and loved booze more than either of us.”

“He still was your dad, (Y/N).” He reiterated.

You purse your lips and sigh.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I have to be all fucking weepy about the whole thing.” You say, grabbing a turkey and swiss from the display and pushing off to walk toward the register.

“No one said you had to be,” Peter appealed as he followed behind you, “But don’t let everything get all clogged up in there.”

He motioned to his chest and you roll your eyes, setting your sandwich on the conveyor belt for the cashier.

“I promise you, the moment he is six feet under I will let all my emotions out. Mainly rejoice and relief.” You sent Peter a smile as your sandwich rang up.

“Four forty, even.”

You reach into your purse, but Peter beats you to it. He hands the cashier a crumpled up five dollar bill.

You give him a glare, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did. It’s gonna be my lunch too.” He snatched the sandwich from the bagging area and saunters to the exit, leaving you to gather the nickels and dimes.

Parked in a gravel parking lot looking over the lake, you and Peter sat in the cab of his tow truck. Both eating a half of the mediocre turkey and swiss while sharing a warm cherry Coke from the center console in silence. After a brief session of catch up on your lives over the past few months, you were both happy enough to just sit quietly in each other's company. Simply enjoying the comfort of being in the presence of someone you love.

“You ever hear from him?” Peter spoke up, mouth full of bread and slimy meat.

“Who?” You at least have the decency to cover your mouth as you spoke.

“You know who. Don’t make me say his name, you got all squirly last time.”

You sighed as you finish chewing the food in your mouth, savoring what you could of the cheap flavors as you avoided Peter’s gaze. Once you swallowed, you took a long gulp from the Coke can before answering.

“No. He’s been out of my life since that night. Really prefer to keep it that way, too.” You replied clippedly, not wanting to talk about him any more than necessary.

Peter belows a raspberry in response.

You looked over to glare at him, “What?”

“I just find that hard to believe.”

“That I don’t want to see the man who broke my heart?” You snap.

“No, that Roman has been able to keep his distance from you.”

“I thought we weren’t saying his name.” You abruptly look away and out the windshield once more.

“Apologies.”

“You don’t have to sound so sincere about it.” You scoff.

“What happened between you two, anyway? Before I left I could practically hear wedding bells.”

“Destiny didn’t tell you?” You press your lips together firmly, hoping Destiny had just made up a lie on your behalf to tell her cousin.

“All she said was that you and Roman supposedly got into this huge fight and you left a few days after. Nothing more, nothing less.” He explained.

“Yeah, well huge fight is an understatement.”

“Then what happened?”

You sigh deeply, reclining against the headrest and wrapping your arms around your middle for some misplaced search for security.

“It happened a few days after you skipped town. It was his birthday…”

Music echoed around you as you placed gentle kisses along the expanse of Roman’s neck. You ran your fingers through his hair gently, collecting grease and pomade on your fingertips and under your nails as you did. He had an arm securing you tightly to his side, the other had been holding you too, but he had retrieved it to light a cigarette.

After the traumatic week you two had undergone, you didn’t fight Roman much when he insisted all he wanted to do for his eighteenth birthday was drink, watch a movie and have you sleep over. You were happy he at least let you buy him a cupcake to commemorate the day, but wouldn’t see to any more festivities. He told you that now more than ever wasn’t a time to be merry. You didn’t blame him, no matter how much you wanted to celebrate him today.

So, you let him share his birthday cupcake with you in the bottom of an empty swimming pool and hold you in an uncomfortable lounge chair for as long as he wanted. Fortunately, this was as calm as you’d seen him in days and you hoped that continued; at least until midnight.

Roman lulled his head on top of yours and placed his hand on your hip, making sure every part of you that could be touching was.

The sound of a door opening resounded in the distance and the distinct tap of heels on tile followed. You felt Roman deflate next to you as you both recognized who the sound belonged to.

In sauntered Olivia, in a beautiful floor length gown with a sparkler in hand, painting patterns in the dark with the fire illuminating her wicked smile.

“Happy Birthday, my darling.” She chimed, looking down at the both of you.

You and Roman both shifted under her unwelcome gaze, neither responding. You turned further into Roman’s neck and you felt his fingers press harder into the flesh of your hip.

“It can’t be a party with just the two of you, can it?” Olivia said, dropping the sparkler to lay by her side.

“Well, three’s a crowd. So if you’ll excuse us.” Roman waved his hand that held his cigarette dismissively.

“One is the loneliest number, but two can be just as bad.” Olivia replied in a musical lit.

Again, neither of you respond. You busy yourself fiddling with the collar of Roman’s tank top.

“(Y/N), darling, you do look beautiful tonight.” She turns her attention to you after the silence she received. Something Olivia knew Roman disapproved of her doing.

“Thank you, Mrs. Godfrey.” You reply politely, glancing at her briefly before going back to Roman’s shirt.

“Is that the dress Roman bought you some time back? I remember hearing you tell Shelley about it over dinner.” Olivia continued.

“What is it that you want, again?” Roman snapped, making you flinch at his volume increase.

“I have a surprise for you. In the attic.” She gestured using what’s left of the dying sparkler at the ceiling.

“Can’t it wait?” Roman said, wholly disinterested.

“No, it cannot, Roman. It is your birthday surprise and I would like to give it to you now.” Her voice became more stern by the word.

Roman moves to look at you and you do the same. His eyes are inviting you to a conversation Olivia isn’t privy too. An almost psychic communication you’ve had together since the day you first met.

Do we go with her? Or wait her out until she leaves?

Just see what she wants. Once she’s shown you we can get back to doing whatever you want.

Roman pursed his lips before letting out a dramatic sigh, “Fine.”

He got up from the chair before offering you his hand to help you up.

Olivia watched as you both climb the ladder out of the empty pool and onto the landing.

“Let’s get this over with.” Roman gave his mother a firm glare.

He placed a hand on the small of your back and started for the door when Olivia stopped him.

“I’m afraid, this gift is for Godfrey eyes only.” She looked at you with weakly masked distaste.

You felt Roman’s fingers once again probe into your skin, “She is a Godfrey.”

“Not in name or blood.”

“But she will be so it doesn’t matter.” Roman retorted, harshly.

This wasn’t the first time he had alluded to your future together, and at the time, you didn’t think it would be the last.

“Well, she isn’t yet, is she? When she is, then she will be welcome to engage in all Godfrey birthday present exchanges.” Olivia sneered.

“There is nothing you could show me that she can’t-” You placed a gentle hand on Roman’s chest before he could continue.

This fight certainly wasn’t worth it. Especially not over a fucking birthday present.

“It’s fine. I’ll wait in your room.” You offered.

“Off the premise.” Olivia chimed in curtly.

“Excuse me?” Roman spat.

“(Y/N) can go home and see you tomorrow. This gift needs much explanation and discussion.”

“This is beyond fucking ridiculous!”

“Ro, it’s OK. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile up at him.

You didn’t want to leave him. Not now, not ever, but never with Olivia.

“I’ll see you later tonight.” Roman stressed.

“Tomorrow would be-”

“Let’s just call it a see-you-soon, then?” You cut off Olivia, never taking your eyes off Roman.

He just tightens his jaw, so tight you’re afraid he might crack a filling. But he nods.

“Fine. I’ll call you.” He says. And he says it with such sincerity that you know without a doubt he will, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He kisses your forehead and you kiss his cheek, not overly keen on giving him the proper goodbye kiss you wanted to infront of Olivia. As you walk away, you spare Olivia a last glance and the look on her smug face is one so self satisfied it made your stomach churn.

Roman never called you that night, or even the next morning. The calls you gave him were left unanswered; texts and voicemails the same.

You would have called Peter, Shelley or Letha to see if they’d heard from Roman at a time like this, but all were depressingly dead ends.

Under the circumstances that you left under the night before, you took it upon yourself to drive to the Godfrey residence and find out what the hell was going on yourself. You didn’t trust Olivia as far as you could throw her, and you didn’t put any heinous act past her.

Your worry beat out any common sense you had to stay away and wait for Roman to come to you.

When you arrived and knocked on the door, several times to be exact, it seemed no one was home. Though, both cars were in the driveway and you knew neither Roman or Olivia would take a cab anywhere. With balled fists you slammed against the wood of the door, kicking your foot against it as well for good measure. You had been in your knocking rhythm so long, when the door finally opened you stumbled forward.

You caught yourself on the knob and looked up to see who answered.

Roman stood above you with expressionless features and down turned lips.

“What?” He asked.

“Don’t ‘what’ me! ‘What’ you! You never called and you haven’t been answering.” You said, straightening yourself out.

“You’re not my fucking keeper,” Roman scoffed and turned his back to walk down the hallway.

Your face screwed up in confusion as you stepped over the threshold into the mansion and slammed the door, then followed him through the house.

“Excuse me? What is up with you?” You exclaimed.

Roman had stopped in the kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator while trying his best to seem unbothered with tense shoulders.

“Nothing is up. I just didn’t want to call you.” He spoke into the crisper drawer.

“Since when?”

“Since now.”

“What the fuck did Olivia show you? Must have been really messed up for you to be acting like this.” You let a humorless laugh through your nose.

“Or maybe I was just happy to be rid of you and now that you’re back, I am pissed.” He slammed the door to the fridge, its contents rattling inside.

Your surprised expression hadn’t wavered as Roman glared at you, his eyes dull and unfamiliar.

“Ok, so, yesterday you’re talking about marrying me, and today I am some parasite you’re happy to be rid of? Is that right?” You took a step toward him.

“I was never going to marry you, you delusional whore.” His first real hit, chipping away at your weak armour. The armour he had weakened himself with his love and care for years.

“If I’m whore, I’d hate to know what that makes you.” You spat.

“It makes me the fucking billionaire who mistakenly kept around some boring girl with a mediocre cunt.” His second hit.

“Wow. You’re right, Roman. I am a whore, but I must be an idiot too! To stay with such a man who calls my pussy mediocre when he can’t even fuck me right.” You provoked.

“Fuck you.”

“Yeah? Why don’t you? Because for as long as I can remember I’ve been faking my orgasms just to get your pathetic little prick out of me. Is that why you cry after Roman? Because you know about that weak excuse of a dick between your legs?”

You were being cruel and frankly, spinning lies. But he was hurting you and you wanted to hurt him back.

“No, I cry thinking about all the other guys you let between your legs. Maybe that’s why daddy hits you, huh? Hoping that one day he hits you hard enough to rattle that whore brain so hard it kills you? So he won’t have to live with the shame? Or maybe he hopes if he hits you enough you’ll finally drop to your knees and show him that head everyone in town talks about.” The last hit, and the one that broke you.

You close the last few steps between you and strike him as hard as you can muster across the face, cranking Roman’s head to the side with the impact. The slap rings loudly through the room, so do your sniffles.

“How can you be so cruel? How could you ever say that to me?” You scream through tears.

“Just speaking the truth.” Roman said smoothly, his head still rotated.

“What is going on with you? What happened last night?”

“I came to my senses, that’s what happened. I realized that I was sick of wasting all my time on a miserable little bitch when I could be out fucking real women.” He says through gritted teeth, “Real women who don’t need so much tedious validation from me.”

“Are you done?” You snapped, your throat thick with tears.

“With you. Yes.”

You couldn’t think of anything else to say. Malicious words spun in your head, ready to fire off your tongue and tear him apart, but you knew you would never be able to get them out in one piece. You would stutter and sob and shake and it would give Roman even more satisfaction at seeing you crumble. So, you turned on your heel as fast as you could, holding your hand over your mouth to silence your cries and fled the Godfrey home.

“Shee-it.” Peter said, looking sick.

“Shee-it, indeed.” You nod.

“So, that was it?”

“That was it. I was there barely five minutes when it was all said and done… then I went home, cried my stupid eyes out and packed my shit. It was always the plan for me to do online courses and stay here with him, but, y’know, things changed... So, I left.”

“I know that feeling.” Peter says, giving the river a thousand mile stare.

“I know you do. Let’s not forget you abandoned me, too.” You said, far more harshly than intended. The topic of the break up having brought old wounds to the surface.

A pained expression crossed his face, “(Y/N)... Fuck, I’m sorry. I am. I just… after Letha,”

“You don’t have to explain. I’m sorry I snapped. I forgave you the minute you left, for the most part, anyway.” You shrugged.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You sigh and look over at him, “If I had been in your shoes I would have hightailed it the second I could have.”

He offers you a sad smile, “But you needed me, and I left.”

“It’s really OK. Because you’re here now. And it all worked out.”

“New York that good, then?”

“Better than good. I’m alone and broke-.”

“And that’s better than good?” He chuckles.

“Surprisingly, yeah. I’m learning and figuring things out on my own. I’m finding things that make me happy without having to worry about anything else. It’s just nice.” You smile as you speak.

“That makes me happy. Man, it really does. All I ever wanted for you was happiness. I thought I had left you with the silver you had left of it.” Peter says, resting his temple to the head rest.

“You did what you had too and so did I. I’m sure Roman did too, in his own twisted way,” You reply, “I don’t want to focus on the past anymore. I am purley looking forward to the future from now on.”

Peter dropped you off at home after hours of milling around the streets of Hemlock Grove in his truck. You kept asking if he had to go back to work, but he would dismiss your concern each time. Telling you that he was spending time with you and he’d worry about towing later. As much as you knew you should pressure him to take you home, you were happy for the company, especially when that company was Peter.

His reappearance in your life was unexpected, but wholly accepted and appreciated. You didn’t know the next time you’d be able to see him again, so you were going to enjoy his companionship while you had it.

Hopping out of the truck and brushing residual crumbs from the turkey sandwich from your dress, you shut the door. The window rolled down and Peter leaned over the console to look at you.

“Don’t be a stranger.” He smiles at you and you can’t help but return it.

“Never again.”

“If you have time, come by Destiny’s before you head back up north. I know she’d love to have dinner.” He proposes and your smile widens.

“I’d love that, I’ll keep you posted.” You start to back up toward your front door.

“And let me know if you need anything, anything at all. I know losing someone is tough.” His smile falls slightly as the funeral is mentioned again.

You knew Peter was worried about you and he had good intentions, but he didn’t know your father like you did. You were going to this thing for appearances and to make your grandmother happy, if you had had a choice you would have rather stayed at school.

“Got it. Thank you, Peter.”

You wave him off and you watch as he double takes to look at you until he is out of sight, only then did you enter your house.

The house isn’t much and it wasn’t the home you grew up in. When your mother finally left your father, she promptly moved you both into a smaller place on the west side of Hemlock Grove that was better suited for your new family dynamic.

It was a dated burgundy one story, with bland beige carpets and no overhead lighting in the bedrooms, but with two bathrooms. That was helpful down the line when your mother began dating again and her multiple suitors would stay for weeks at a time. You never wanted to be alone with any of them, so that meant crossing the boundary into her room to use the en suite was always out of the question.

Your bedroom was somewhere you always found solace and comfort, even now it felt more like home than anywhere in the world. It had a small excuse of a bay window that looked out over a small and shallow creek. One of your mother’s more involved boyfriends had built you a window bench years before underneath it, upholstered in red velvet. You had run your fingers over the soft fabric so many times, certain places were now rubbed raw and threadbear.

Roman used to sit on your bed while you sat on the bench, reading to him from a litany of novels, some for pleasure and some for assignments. He’d look at you and tell you the light from the window haloed you like an angel. You’d tell him he was just talking out of his ass to get you to stop reading and fool around. Then Roman would smirk and shrug, like he wasn’t sure who was more right. His memory seemed to be etched into every detail of your bedroom, unfortunately.

There was the small heart he had carved into your headboard with an unclicked pen, your initials carved around it. There was your small Ikea vanity, that was stained with nail polish from the time Roman insisted he could do your nails better than you could. There was your closet, just big enough to hold you both inside; where you would steal kisses when you first started to sneak him into your room at night. There was the faded paint on the wall in the shape of a rectangle, where a picture frame of you and Roman at your first homecoming together had once been. There was your fucking duvet cover, that you and Roman would hide underneath on bright mornings. Where he’d hold you and kiss you softly, whispering sweet affections until the muggy air between you became thick and he’d push your noses up over the edge of the blanket to take in giggling gulps of breath.

Roman Godfrey had left painful reminders of himself everywhere. There were too many for you to erase fully. His memory was like a Hydra, repress a recollection of his and two more would pop into your mind in its place.

Now, all the bench held your small suitcase that you had packed early this morning for your short trip down to Pennsylvania. Just some toiletries, a few changes of clothes, a black cocktail dress and a few textbooks. Just because your father died didn’t mean your school work would lighten because of it.

While it wasn’t very late, you had been up early to catch your train and hadn’t expected to be out all day with Peter. You excused your premature exhaustion and decided it was best to take a shower, have a snack and then go to bed. Tomorrow was to no doubt try your nerves, so a full night's rest was likely your best option.

After your shower, you slipped into a pair of pajamas and went down the hall to see if your mother had left you any suitable food. She was still on vacation with her current boyfriend and wouldn’t be able to make it back until Monday, a full day after you were set to leave. So, all you could hope was that there was something edible left in the pantry.

Tussling your damp hair in your hands, you padded through the kitchen to try and make something with the odds and ends your mother had in stock.

As you settled on a half eaten bag of tortilla chips and a jar of salsa, there was a knock at the door. Your mother’s car was missing from the driveway and anyone who would drop by unannounced knew she was out of town. Assuming it was a solicitor or a package delivery, you ignored it and continued on with your pre-bed snack. But the knocking didn’t let up.

Begrudgingly, you made your way to the door in the hopes of shooing off whoever was bothering you. Though, when you opened it, you debated simply closing the door like it nothing had happened. To just shut the door tight and pretend that you hadn’t seen who was standing on your doorstep. All six feet four inches of him.

With his back to you and a large bouquet of roses in hand, Roman glanced over his shoulder when he heard the door open. He looked about as startled as you felt when he laid eyes on you.

“(Y/N).” He blurted out, his body swiveling like an owl to face the same direction as his head.

“Roman.” You gave him a forced smile, cursing that you had lost your opportunity to run and hide.

“I, uh, well, wow. I, these are for your mother,” Roman whipped out the bouquet from behind him, “I heard about your dad. I just wanted to see how she was holding up. I know they aren’t close or anything, but y’know, it’s still the father of her child.”

You took the flowers from him carefully, making sure to avoid where his fingers lay on the stems.

“She’s not here, but thanks. I’ll make sure to let her know you stopped by.” You continued your kind facade before moving to shut the door.

But Roman was quicker as he placed a large hand on the wood to keep it ajar.

“I’m sorry for you too, you know? I know how it feels to lose a father. So, I’m sorry.” He said, like he was trying to keep you in his company as long as possible.

“Wish my dad would have eaten a bullet when I was a kid. You got lucky.” You joke, once more trying to shut the door.

And Roman continued to keep it open.

“Well, I know things ended… bad- But! I’m still here if you need me. For anything. Have all the preparations been taken care of?” He asked.

“Yeah, my grandma and grandpa took care of it. Nothing to worry about. But thanks, Roman.”

Roman’s eyes widened and his mouth puckered, the way he always did when he had a million things to say and no idea how to say them.

You began to notice his attire as he loomed over you, with no seeming intention of leaving you or your front stoop alone.

He wore a thick winter coat over a black three piece suit, tailored to perfection. His hair was parted on the right and smoothed down with gel. It certainly wasn’t your favorite look on him, but your input hardly mattered anymore. He wore Oxford dress shoes that were spotless and without a crease. You realized just then that he must have come right from The White Tower to bring the flowers to your mother, and these were his work clothes. These were the clothes and fifty dollar haircut of a fresh faced CEO.

You had known that he was set to secede the throne of Godfrey Industries once he turned eighteen, but you never gave it much thought after you moved to New York. The Roman who haunted your dreams and took residence in your thoughts was always your Roman. The boy who wanted to smoke and dance and kiss and laugh. Not a business tycoon out for blood.

“I didn’t know you would be in town. I would have stopped by.” He said, finally finding words to give him a reason to stay.

“You already have.”

“I know, but I would have made it more deliberate. More to see you and not to just give my condolences to you mother.” Roman explained, his hand still on the door.

You snort, “Yeah, well I don’t know why you’re giving her flowers anyway. She doesn’t like you. Not after I told her everything.”

“Yeah, uh, I didn’t know that.” He laughs uncomfortably, finally taking a step away and relieving your door of his hostage.

“Well, it was nice of you to come by. I’ll see you around, Roman.” It was clear from your tone that this incommodious conversation was over.

Though, Roman still was outwardly ignoring your brusque attitude, “Could I come in? I would love to catch up for a moment? For old times sake?”

“I don’t know if that is such a good idea.”

“I won’t be long, I promise.” He bargained

You watched him for a long moment, debating on what to do. On one hand, you craved his presence. You craved him after just one sighting and wanted him to come in, to talk, to listen, to heal. Because like you said to Peter in the car earlier, you did believe that Roman had done what he had for a reason, it was just no doubt a fucked up and selfish one. You couldn’t hate him forever, you didn’t want to. It would destroy you before it did any good.

On the other, all you could do was hear his voice echoing in your mind, explaining his disgust for you.

But, you wanted to look to the future. You wanted to free yourself of the burden of grudges and hatred. You wanted to forgive Roman, the best you could, and leave him and his faults to fester in the past while you moved on with your life.

So, you pushed the door open wider with the tips of your fingers and walked back to the kitchen, while Roman eagerly followed.

“I’ll have to find every vase in the house for these,” You quietly joked.

“I could buy a big vase to hold them tomorrow and send it over if you’d like?” He was following closer than you would have liked as you searched the cabinets for vases and empty jars.

“No, it’s alright. I think I’ll like how eclectic they’ll look in mismatched glasses.” You said, “And then I could put them all around the house. It’ll be a nice surprise for my mom when she gets home.”

You undid the thick satin ribbon holding the bouquet together and found a pair of scissors to cut off the ends.

“Want me to fill these with water?” Roman asked, nodding to the empty vases.

“If you don’t mind.”

Roman nodded, shedding his wool jacket and blazer, depositing it on a chair. Then, rounding the island to stand next to you to begin filling each receptacle from the sink.

He was closer to you now than he had been in months. You could smell his woody cologne that clung to his skin, mixed with cigarette smoke and the night air. He must have been driving with the top down. You hated that only his scent could send your heart into somersaults and make your hands quiver with need. All you could think about with him in such a proximity was looking up into his green eyes and him looking down into your (Y/E/C) ones. Looking down at you with that stupid fucking smirk. Then with that smirk, Roman would place a hand on your cheek and gently press it to your lips and you would be in heaven.

Anything Roman did to you was heaven.

Expect when he was hurting you. Which you had to remind yourself, he very much did.

“So, where’s your mom?” Roman asked, placing a mason jar next to faux crystal vase.

“In Florida with her new boyfriend.” You commented.

“Yeah, I heard she was seeing someone.”

“You know if he’s any good?”

“Nah, just that she was seeing someone. I keep an ear to the ground to make sure she’s doing alright.” Another glass filled.

“You don’t have to do that, Roman.” You paused cutting stems for a moment to glance up at him.

He was already looking at you.

“I know. I want to. It’s the least I can do.”

You hold eye contact for a few beats, Roman’s eyes boring into yours in that hyponic way that always left you weak in the knees.

“Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” And you both went back to your tasks at hand.

It was obvious that you were more than willing to work in silence, and it was clear that Roman wasn’t.

“So… how’s NYU?” He prompts.

“Good. I really like it.”

“Enjoying your studies?”

“Very much.”

“And the city? Is it treating you alright?”

“Yes, I think after I graduate I’ll stay for a while.”

Roman only hums in reply. Like that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that you’re doing well.”

“Thank you.”

The conversation lulls as the sound of water and sheers fill the room.

Roman is chewing his cheek and bobbing his head, and you know he won’t let up his chatter anytime soon.

“I’ve been working at The Tower. I took over a few months ago.” He says, eyes darting to you like he was looking for praise.

“Oh,” You reply like you hadn’t already figured it out, “How’s that going?”

“Fine. I mean, it’s a lot of work. A lot of stress, but I’m glad I’m doing it.” He sounds unconvincing as he rambles on about Godfrey Industries and Pryce’s lab while you focus on the flowers.

“Do you ever wonder what you would be doing if you hadn’t been told your entire life that you would take over Godfrey?” You ask, somewhat out of the blue.

Roman stops talking abruptly, his hands pausing under the tap.

“Not really.”

“Isn’t there anything else you would have wanted to do? Like in a dream scenario in a perfect world?” You elaborate.

Roman seems unsettled by your questioning, like these were things no one had ever asked him. Things he had never even asked himself.

“I think in a dream scenario, I would be rich beyond my wildest dreams. And I already am, so why waste time dreaming?” You can tell he isn’t even satisfied with his answer.

You don’t reply, leaving the subject where it lay in the air to go back to working in silence.

“So...” Roman begins again, refusing to let the conversation die down.

“You seeing anyone?” Roman tries to sound blase, but you know this question lays heavy on him.

You barely withhold a scoff as you set your scissors down to look at him once more.

He double takes in your direction, not wanting to look at you for fear of your answer, “What?”

“I’m just surprised you held off this long without asking the question we both know you wanted to ask the second you saw me.”

“Not really an answer…” he murmurs.

“Not really your business.” You counter.

“So there is someone?” You could hear a twinge of anger in his voice.

“Not that it is any of your business, because I want to stress that it really isn’t, but no. I am not seeing anyone.”

“Oh.” Roman’s lip twitches into a smile that he tries to conceal from you.

“Yeah, oh.” You roll your eyes and finish with your clippings and begin to arrange the rose into glasses.

“Aren’t you going to ask me?” Roman, with his work now over, turns to look down at you, a smirk on his lips.

“Ask you what?”

“If I’m seeing anyone.”

“I don’t care, Roman.”

“Really?” He leans closer to you.

“Well, what constitutes seeing someone, to you? A one night stand? A hooker? An actual multiple date relationship? What is your definition?” You jeer.

“How would you define it?”

“Different from you.”

“Oh come on,” He pokes, “Tell me.”

He was becoming far too chummy with you for your taste.

“I guess I would define it as multiple dates.”

“By that definition, then no. I’m not seeing anyone.”

“But if I defined it by hookers and one night stands?” You inquired.

Roman doesn’t answer.

You can’t help but laugh, “And you said I was a whore.”

The air between you changes, then. It was calm, if not slightly awkward before then, but now it felt tense and uncomfortable.

“(Y/N), I…”

“Don’t.” You reply before he can say anything else.

“But I want to say this, I need to.” Roman persists, reaching out to grab your shoulder.

You shrug off his advance quickly and take a few steps back from him. Roses and vases completely forgotten.

“I need to apologize to you.”

“You need to apologize to me for what, Roman?”

“For that night, what I said-!” Roman starts.

“No. What I mean is, are you apologizing because you’re actually sorry? Because you think that’s what you’re supposed to say to me? Or because you want what you did off your conscious?” You raise a single eyebrow.

“Are you kidding? I’m saying this because I am fucking sorry! I hate what I said to you, it fucking eats me up!” Roman throws his hand in the air as he yells.

“So it is option C.” You replied.

“Jesus fucking- no! It’s not! It’s A! It’s fucking A. You think I wanted to do what I did? Huh? You think I wanted you to leave?”

“Yes, I did. I do.”

“Then fuck you if you think that. Fuck you if you think that I wanted to say all those things. Maybe you don’t really know me at all.” Roman sneers.

“I already concluded that.”

He scoffs.

“Is this why you wanted to come in? Force me into conversation? Ask me if I’m dating anyone, give me a half assed apology and insult me?” You crossed your arms.

“No! No, that’s not why I asked to come in.” Roman shot back.

“Then why?”

“Because I fucking missed you, alright? I fucking missed you and I needed to be near you, even if only for a moment.”

Roman’s voice echoed in the kitchen, his words hanging in the air and ringing in your ears. You could hear them dance in your mind and slide down your back with a chill, taunting you and making your emotions tear in a million different directions.

“Roman, I think it’s time for you to leave.” You say, running your tongue over your teeth.

“No! I’m not fucking leaving. Tell me you don’t miss me too.” Roman took a step toward you as he ran a hand through his slicked down hair, ruining it’s perfection.

“I have to get up early, so I just really think you should go.”

“(Y/N), tell me you don’t miss me and I’ll leave right now. You’ll never see me again, I swear.”

You don’t respond, just cross your arms over your chest. You rub your hands over the skin of your arms, peaking your fingers beneath your shirtsleeves and gripping the fabric tightly.

“Just tell me.”

You meet his gaze as Roman closes the gap between the two of you. He was close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin and the warmth he radiated. An unwarranted chill set through you.

All hope of forgetting the past and moving on was gone, you didn’t care anymore. All you wanted was for Roman to leave. You wanted him to leave so you could wrap yourself in blankets and cry until you couldn’t see anymore.

“Roman, just go.” You whispered, your vocal chords straining to even do that.

“It’s because you can’t say that you don’t.” Roman raised a hand a single finger tracing the features of your face and causing your eyes to drift shut.

He traced your orbital bone and the angle of your nose and your eyebrow and ear. He traced your jaw and your chin and the shape of your ear and stopped to caress your lips.

With each swoop of his finger tip, he was erasing hurt and anguish and pain. He was soothing you and giving you an old form of intimacy that you had craved. He was regaining his sense of self in your mind, reminding you that he could act like he had before that night. He was twining his roots back into your mind.

When his finger finally stopped, you opened your eyes and saw tears had gathered in Roman’s. They were threatening to breech from his lash line as he stared at you with a drumming heart.

“Tell me why you hurt me first.”

And Roman dropped his hand and said nothing for a long moment.

“It’s a long story.” He replies, sniffling loudly through his nose.

“I’ve got time.”

“It’s not pretty.”

“I don’t care.”

You had moved to the dining room for Roman’s story. You both sat on opposite ends of your mother’s old mosaic table that you had both eaten many meals at. It was covered in vintage tiles and you picked at the surrounding grout as you listened to him. You ground your fingernails between the titles, filing them into powder as Roman told you about his birthday and everything that had happened since the night you left him.

Of Letha. Of the child. Of the razor blades embedded into his arms. Of his mother’s tongue. Of the bloodlust.

Of the loss.

“This is some fucking Twilight bullshit.” You said once Roman had gone quiet.

“This isn’t fucking funny, (Y/N).” Roman replied, bouncing his knee and pinching his chin.

“No, it’s not fucking funny at all, Roman. Not even a bit, but it is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my life.” You snort a laugh from your nose.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Oh, I believe you. After all that shit with Peter, of course I believe you. Doesn’t make it any less ridiculous.”

Roman raises his eyebrows in understanding with a slight nod.

“So, what? You saying all that shit to me was because you thought you were going to suck me dry, or something?”

“Stop making jokes.” He growled.

“I’m being fucking serious, Roman! What was it?” You stood from your chair to impose over him.

“You deserved better. It would have been too much for you.”

“Oh, don’t be such a martyr, Roman!” You fumed, “Since when have you ever got to decide what was good and what was bad for me?”

“You don’t understand!” Roman pushed up from his chair with such force it tumbled to the floor, “I could barley fucking handle this, OK? I had been living a lie, I had become a monster overnight! I was fucking scared for you- scared for me. What I could do-”

His voice began to quiver and his palms shook as he wiped his clammy palms on his slacks.

“You would either have left me or I would have killed you. I don’t doubt that for a second, and I couldn’t lose anyone else. Not after Letha, not after Peter and Shelley. I just couldn’t.”

“So, pushing me away was the answer?” You asked.

“At the time, yes.”

You just shook your head, and collapsed back into your chair.

“I did it because I loved you.” Roman said, tears streaking his flushed cheeks.

“Stop, Roman...”

“I fucking loved you so much so I made you leave. I fucking love you more than anything.”

He spoke like he was taking his last breath and collapsed to his knees like a dying man, his bones smacking loudly against the linoleum as he crawled to you, tears still leaking from his eyes.

“You have to believe that I’m sorry. I am, I am, I am.”

Roman rested his head on your lap as he wept, his hands clutching your calves.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think or speak. All your mind could comprehend was Roman’s deep and encompassing sadness and his wayward soul.

You could barely grasp the story he told, so it was unimaginable to you how it must have felt to live it. Your heart ached for him so profoundly.

Of course you didn’t agree with what he had done to you, not for a moment. He had resorted to cruelty out of fear and you hated it. It was inexcusable.

But, you folded yourself in half and covered his body with yours anyway, and let Roman cry in your lap. You let him cry out the fear and sadness and the exhaustion he had felt these past months.

You had let Roman cry himself dry before escorting him to the door. He held your hand on the way and you didn’t stop him. When you reached the door, Roman was the one to open it and step out into the cold Pennsylvania night. Though, his hand stayed intertwined with your own as he walked out onto your porch.

“What time is the funeral?” He asked.

“10 AM.” You replied.

His skin seemed to glow against the night sky, his milky complexion contrasting beautifully to the dark nature behind him.

“I’ll be there.”

You shook your head, but squeezed his hand, “You don’t have to, really. It’s going to be long and boring.”

“(Y/N),” He looked at you with a crisp sincerity, “I’ll be there.”

You didn’t know what to say, because you weren’t entirely sure what you should say. You wanted to beg him not to come and make a spectacle at his attendance. You wanted to beg him to come and hold your hand and ward off the demons your father had sewn into your psyche.

“Please, Roman, it’s not a big deal. I swear. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

He pursed his lips back at you, like he was deciding if arguing with you on the matter was really worth it. Or if he would win or not. In the end, he said nothing. Just nodded and glanced over to his bright red Jaguar in the driveway.

When Roman looked back to you, you both knew a goodbye wasn’t needed. Your love-telepathy coming back just for a moment to bid each other adidu for the night. An intimacy you didn’t even know you missed until now.

Roman was the first to step away, pulling your hands apart as he did. You felt each finger detangle from his own, until your pinkies were the only things tethering you to each other. When they detached, your hand fell listlessly to your side and Roman watched you intently as he walked to his car, got in, and pulled from your drive away. Only looking away when he finally drove into the night.

You smoothed the dress over your hips as you smiled politely at guests entering the church. They offered you watery smiles and condolences as they spread out into the pews.

You wanted to spit in their faces and scream. Scream and sink your nails into your skin and tell them that he had painted bruises on your skin and installed his hatred for you into your heart before you were old enough to know it was wrong.

He wasn’t a good man. He was far from it.

But no one who was crying tears for him and shaking your hand knew this, and if they did they didn’t care. He was good at hiding what he did, what he had become.

You felt like your head was in a fish bowl with the more people who entered. Their faces blurring and distorting before you, their words muffled and useless. You began just nodding at everyone’s words, refusing to listen to anything else they had to say about Heaven and God’s good will. You wished you had a good excuse to leave and never come back.

It wasn’t until someone wheeled in the casket that you found your escape from the line of mourners and made your way outside. Because the second you laid eyes on the box of shiny mahogany, your stomach dropped to your feet and bile threatened to spill from your lips.

The man you had hated your entire life, the one who had hurt you, the one who struck you, the one who had belittled you, the man who hurt your mother. That man was dead. He was in that fucking box, seperated from you and the living by a few inches of wood.

That man was your father and he was supposed to love you and now he was filled with stuffing and had waxy skin covered in blush and a heart that would never beat again. A mouth that was sewn shut and would never speak again. To never yell, to laugh, to tell you he loved you.

It was over.

Then why were you so sad?

Maybe Peter was right... maybe you’d even tell him.

As you made your way outside, you sucked in as much fresh air as your lungs could take. You let the cold air chill your exposed skin and the grey skies calm your overstimulated senses. While gulping in the breeze and pressing your fingernails to your palms to ground yourself, you gazed out over the parking lot. It was then, that you shed your first tears of the day.

Because there, all in black leaning against his car was Roman Godfrey, looking right back at you.

He’d come.

Because he cared.

Because he loved you.

You didn’t think twice as he ran down the church steps as fast as your heels could take you to him, needing to feel him. Roman did the same, rushing across the asfalte to you, wrapping you in his arms immediately as you collided with his chest.

“You came,” You sobbed into his button down, “You came, you came, you came.”

“Of course I did.” He cooed, nuzzling close to you.

“I needed you and you knew and you came.”

“I’ll always come, even when you don’t call.”

As you both went back to the church, Roman stood with you to greet people coming in. His hand on your lower back and his grandiose stature and expression keeping people from dawdling too long to speak with you.

The service was bleak and full of lies, but you mustered through it without a scoff or outburst for your grandparents sake. Roman sat next to you the entire time, his arm over your shoulder and his temple resting against your head. He’d occasionally place a gentle kiss to your hairline or stroke his fingers over your arm as a reminder that he was with you.

And you loved him for it.

When it was all over and your father’s casket was being rolled away, everyone dispersed. Some to follow the hearse to the graveyard, some to just go home. You and Roman stayed in your seats. You had decided you didn’t want to see your father put in the ground. Not because he didn’t deserve it, but because you couldn’t handle it. You weren’t sure exactly all the reasons why, maybe Peter would know the answer to that, too.

You both waited until no one was left in the church, just watching the sun gleam through the stained glass windows at the ceiling and enjoying each other's company.

“You alright?” Roman asked once he was sure everyone was gone.

“I don’t know. I’m still figuring that out, I guess.” You said with a half hearted shrug.

“It’s OK. You have time.”

You gave a nod before leaning closer to him, resting your head underneath his own, letting Roman sit his chin on your crown.

“I thought I would be overjoyed when this day finally came… but I’m not. I’m not really happy and I’m not really sad. I’m just here.”

“I think that’s just fine.” Roman replied, rubbing gentle up and down your arm.

“Thank you for being here.” You remove yourself from under his chin to look at him, “It would have been so much worse without you.”

Roman offered you a soft smile and placed his unoccupied hand on your cheek.

You placed your own hand over his and shut your eyes, reveling in his soft touch.

It was so quiet and all you could hear was the sound of your heart in your ears and Roman’s rhythmic breathing.

“What now?”

“I’m not sure,” You open your eyes to see he’s already looking at you, “Where are you going?”

“Wherever you are.”

You smile, “Then take me there.”

As you walked through Roman’s front door, you tried to hide a frown. The old Godfrey mansion had been so intricate and full of character. With crown molding and warm golds and rich browns, and history in every nook and cranny. Roman’s new home… it was sterile and bland and grey. It felt cold even with the hum of the radiator. It felt large and imposing, much like it’s owner. It was the type of home that echoed with loneliness.

“So, what do you think?” Roman asked from where he stood close behind you.

“I like it,” You said, “It’s very…”

“You hate it.”

You turned to face him and he was looking at you fondly.

“I wouldn’t say hate. Just, not my style.”

He nods and takes a step forward, “Yeah, I sort of knew you wouldn’t like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You always loved the old house. Said it felt like you were in a victorian novel.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his memory, “And you always hated it.”

“I wouldn’t say hate. Just, not my style.” He grins at you and you can’t help but smile back at him.

“So, you decided when you moved out you’d make your new place the antithesis of it?”

“Something like that. Anything to erase the memory of my mother.” Roman says this with the cadence of a joke, but his eyes darken at the mention of Olivia.

“I can’t say I blame you.” You reply before he quickly changes the subject.

“Have a seat and I’ll make us both a drink,” He says, gesturing toward his large loveseat in the living room.

You do so, and as you sit down, you admire him standing over the wet bar. He had shed his blazer from his suit on the kitchen table, and through the fabric of his button down (an expensive silk blend from the looks of it) you could so the movement of his broad shoulders and the expanse of the muscles in his back.

The memory of running your hands across the peaks and valleys of his back stuck you. The memory of his smooth skin under your palms made your fingers burn with yearning and twitch with need to reacquaint yourself with the velvet that was Roman Godfrey’s skin.

Roman had finished making your drinks. Both crimson in crystal tumblers. He walked to you and handed you the beverage, which you accepted with a thank you. As you took your first sip of your drink, you couldn't help but smile as Roman sat down next to you on his couch.

“Vodka cranberry?”

“Like I’d forget your favorite drink,” He says, smiling against the rim of his tumbler, “Well, second favorite. I don’t really have the ingredients for a Long Island iced tea.”

“I think this works better under the circumstances, anyway. Drinking a Long Island iced tea after a funeral feels a little morbid.”

“Yeah, but your dad would’ve hated that you were drinking one.” Roman pointed out.

You chuckled, because he was right. Your father hated drinks where the alcohol was masked by chasers and sugar. He deemed them feminine and embarrassing for anyone to drink, ridiculing anyone (no matter their gender) if they ordered one.

“That is true,” You take a pull from your glass, “He would have hated that you went to his funeral, too. Because, well he hated you.”

Roman gives a wide smirk, “I can’t say that doesn't bring me some joy.”

You could count on one hand the number of times your father met Roman during the years you dated. Though, everytime he had, he made his distinct dislike for your boyfriend overwhelmingly obvious. He thought of Roman like most other people in town did. A spoiled, rich, entitled, sauve asshole. But, for your father, he felt like he had a personal stake in hating Roman. He masqueraded like he didn’t like Roman simply for dating his daughter, but he didn’t give a shit about you or your well being. Your father, the pathetic drunk that he was, was threatened by Roman more than any man you had ever met. He was the one person who he couldn’t intimidate and feel superior too, because Roman didn’t feel intimidated or lesser to anyone in the world.

“Me too.”

You both drink in silence for a moment, and you pretend not to notice Roman as he inched closer to you on the cushions.

“Do you remember,” Roman says, swallowing a gulp of his drink, “that time we snuck into that club in Philadelphia? And you and Letha, just got, like absolutely abliderated on Long Island iced teas?”

You smiled at the memory, your lips parting with glee the more you remembered about the night.

“Yes! Oh my God, I had totally forgot about that.”

Roman had paid off some bouncer to let the three of you into some club downtown and it had been a spectacular night. You and Letha were guzzling drinks like it was the end of the world. Roman was only encouraging your recklessness with jokes and bankrolling the bottomless teas. Letha had danced on the bar top while singing you an off key Elton John song while you drunkenly squealed with glee in a hysterical Roman’s arms. You had never seen Roman laugh so much until that night.

You all danced and drank and laughed and smiled. You had all hid in a corner as you had fished out cocaine from a baggy with your pinky nail, and held it to each Godfrey’s nose like you were giving them communion, before blessing yourself.

You distinctly remember hanging off Roman like a kola most of the night. Giving him sloppy kisses and groping him in the crowd with whispered promises of more when you were alone. You remember him smiling down at you and always having a hand on your ass. You remember Letha’s happy screams and giggles and how she was twirling so much on the dance floor she tumbled.

“That was a really good night.” You said.

Roman nodded, “It was. It was one of those rare times I could get Letha out of her shell.”

The mood dipped from happy memories to grief as his cousin's untimely death was remembered. It was written clear as day on Roman’s face that he was far from healed from her passing.

“I miss her, too.” You placed a hand on his.

“Yeah. Life isn’t far, huh?” You saw he was trying to ward off a wash of emotion, not wanting to wallow in her death, because it wasn’t an easy pit to push himself out of.

“No, it really isn’t.”

If life was fair, Olivia would have been long deceased. Roman wouldn’t have ever been coerced to do any heinous acts. Letha would be alive. Shelley would have never vanished.

You didn’t dare bring up his missing sister to Roman, because that pain was almost worse than the wound Letha’s death had inflicted. For the both of you.

You had learned from Peter the previous day that Shelley was still missing with no leads in finding her. You had nodded but said nothing else and he had let you.

You had always been close with Shelley. She was so kind and sweet, and incredibly understanding and thoughtful. You were the only two women Roman truly loved and that bonded you in a way, to be the only ones to have his unfettered devotion. The thought of Shelley, out in the world alone, scared and labeled a fugitive made you sick. You couldn’t think about it for long without your nausea sparking and tears forming in your eyes.

“What I said to you… that night? That wasn’t fair either. It wasn’t fair of me to hurt you like that.” Roman says, his eyes cast down.

“Roman, we don’t have to do this again. It’s fine, no worries.” You said as casually as possible.

“No, but it really wasn’t,” Roman shakes his head and rotates his body toward you.

“I said those things because I was scared, not because they were true. You have to know that.”

You swallow thickly and nod. Rationally, you knew that was true. After Roman had explained to you yesterday the reason for his vicious one-eighty toward you, you knew that he was only being cruel to push you away. But the words still hurt, they were still brutal enough to feel like there was an ounce of truth to them.

“I was wrong, I can see that now, yknow? I was really wrong for all of that,” Roman lamented, “I fucked up.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). That’s what I really want to say, what I really want you to know. And you know me, probably better than anyone in the world, maybe even more than I know myself,” He huffed a laugh, “And you know that I don’t apologize. Because I’m not wrong. I’m just not. I don’t say I’m sorry, not to anyone… but this, I gotta own up to. Because I was wrong for hurting you, pushing you away.”

You listened to Roman with baited breath.

“You were the only person who ever really saw me. Looked into my eyes and saw past the bullshit and accepted me, loved me… and the idea of you hating me forever killed me, fucking killed me so much. But it was better than you sticking around and seeing that all that bullshit was true, and maybe I was even worse.”

“Roman,” You rasped, gripping his hand tighter, your fingernails biting into his skin.

“I promised to never hurt you, to protect you, keep you safe. And I failed.”

Roman had always been protective of his loved ones. He hoarded them like a dragon with gold, prowling in front of them with bared teeth and spitting fury. You still remember the first time he pledged his devotion to you, his undying protection and loyalty.

It was after the first time he had met your father. A dinner at the Godfrey mansion with your parents, Olivia, Shelley, yourself and Roman. It was an evening requested by Olivia to meet the parents of the girl who had bewitched her son.

She had been her typical elitist self, turning her nose up at your middle class parents with joy. You were sure she was vibrating in her seat with happiness that she could feel so superior to your average parents. Likely hoping Roman would see this too, and kick you to the curb.

You mother had been aimable, mostly quiet. You always thought of your mother as a very charming woman, who could talk to anyone no matter the circumstance. But, Olivia would barely let her get a word in, so she took the hint. Though, you could tell Shelley liked her, and that warmed your heart.

The night’s conversation was dominated by Olivia for the most part, regaling the Godfrey wealth and stories of her privileged life. When she wasn’t boasting about herself, your father would be the one to chime in. Either with an offensive comment or with his poor table manners. It was like having a wild boar in the Shangri La and you felt your face heat with consistent humiliation. You could see your mother twitch uncomfortably across from you whenever he would act, and you knew she was in the same boat.

You were already planning your apology to Roman when your father spoke up. You had been too busy stewing in your mortification to follow the conversation being had at the time.

“Well, I tell you something, Roman. This one over here,” Your father stuck his fork over to you, “Isn’t gonna be a good little wife, not like your mother is.”

Your father threw a smarmy grin to Olivia.

“You’re gonna have to wipe her into shape. Always wants to back talk and cross her damn arms and stomp her damn feet at you.”

Your father laughs and nuges your mother with his elbow, like he had made a joke. Like he thought this joke about you as Roman’s meek little wife would please Olivia and your boyfriend.

Olivia laughed along and made a comment about her predisposition to wifehood because of her upbring, while Roman seethed. You could see his jaw flexing and hear the sound of his ragged breaths through his nose. You discreetly placed your hand on his lap, doing your best to calm him, but it did nothing as your father continued to make comments about your disrespectful personality, all with the cadence of a joke.

“Why don’t you go out for a smoke?” Roman said to your father through gritted teeth.

“Excuse me?” You father said, stopping mid sentence and glaring at Roman.

“I said, why don’t you go out for a smoke and cool off? And when you come back, be a little fucking nicer?”

Roman’s eyes bore into your father’s as he spoke. Your father looked furious at this teenage boy’s demand, and you were sure there was going to be a fight. Both men were incredibly hot headed, that this evening might even end in a physical altercation. But, your father just pushed up from the table and left the five of you in awkward silence. Roman relaxed once your father was gone, taking your hand from his lap and intertwining your fingers together on the tabletop. Your mother soon struck up a conversation with Olivia about the antique chaise lounge in the living room.

Roman held your hand for the rest of the night. When your father returned, he stayed silent.

When it was time for your parents to leave, Roman offered to drive you home. Though, the minute both you were out of sight of his home and your parents, he pulled over.

“Roman, I am so sorry about-” You began, but Roman stopped you by placing his hands firmly on your cheeks.

“Don’t apologize. Not for that fucking man.” He said, his tone turning venomous when he mentioned your father.

“The fucking nerve of him,” Roman spat, his hands tightening on your face, “The fucking nerve of him to speak like that about you. And to me! To me in my fucking home. I’m going to kill him, I’ll fucking kill him.”

Roman spoke sincerely and you wondered for a moment if you asked him to kill your father, would he?

“He’s not worth it, he’s not even worth your anger.” You sighed, placing your hand on his wrist and stroking his skin with your thumb.

“He isn’t worth shit. That fucking cunt.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched your boyfriend speak obscenities.

“What?”

“You look very sexy when you’re this mad.”

You could see Roman’s face visibly relax. You knew he was still angry, but your comment had placated him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You grinned at him and began to lean in for a kiss when Roman stopped you.

You looked into his eyes again and you saw this serious demoaner was back.

“I will never let him say anything like what he said tonight to you again, OK? Never. I’ll never let him fucking touch you again,” Roman came to rest his forehead to yours, “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. I will keep you safe forever.”

And you believed him. You believed him more than you had ever believed a single person in your life. There wasn’t an ounce of you in that moment that could argue with him. You trusted him fully.

“Ok.” Was all you could say with the emotion that was brewing from his confession, before he finally pulled you to his lips.

It was the first time you realized you loved him.

“All I have ever wanted is to keep you safe.” He said it with the same vigor and sincerity that he had in his original vow to you in his car on the side of the road.

And again, you couldn’t help but believe him.

“I forgive you.” You really did.

He was swathing you with the salve of love and honesty, healing the wounds he carved into your skin with his earnest.

“You were scared, you had just had your life turned upside down… I get it. It’s OK. I’m not blameless either. I said some nasty things.”

Roman looks up from where your hands are connected and gives you a signature fierce stare.

The weight of his gaze on you feels heavy as he leans forward to set his glass on the coffee table. His eyes never leave yours as he does. As he moves back to the couch, he uses his movement to his advantage to seamlessly reach out to cup your jaw, as he settled back next to you, much closer than before.

Goosebumps bit across your flesh as the feeling of his broad palm engulfed your face and his breath began to fan across your lips. Roman was smooth, he was graceful and agile in everything he did. Everything including the set up to a kiss, especially a long awaited and important one.

Roman glides his middle and forefinger up to cradle your ear, to anchor himself to you before using his thumb on the underside of your jaw to tilt your chin. You blood was rushing loudly through your ears and all you could think of was him as Roman’s other arm came to rest across the back of the sofa and ecase you in his arms. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip before he descended for yours.

And you felt euphoric. A warmth in the pit of your stomach that only Roman would kindle.

Roman nuzzled his lips against your mouth, the tip of his nose brushing your own. Your hands migrated to lay purchase on his shoulders as you let Roman pull you impossibly close to his body. You could feel his heated cheeks against your face and you could feel his racing pulse beneath your fingers as he tipped your face up and opened his mouth into the kiss. His tongue dipped past your lips and you accepted him with a soft whimper.

Your sound of pleasure surged Roman on as he began to kiss you harder. Sweeter. Messier. Hotter. Just like he always had.

Soon, you were flat against the couch cushions, Roman above you as his hands explored your body. Your legs bracketed his hips, pushing the heels of your feet against the tops of his thighs to keep him snug against you. Your hands clutched his back tightly, the very same back you had been craving to get your hands on since you walked through the door.

Roman’s lips detached from your own to drift to your cheeks, your jaw and your neck. To bite, to suck and lick with his sinful tongue. You keened and moaned at his attentions, your back arching into him. The spit he left in his wake met the air in a chilling exchange that cooled your fiery skin.

“My baby,” He said to your skin.

“My girl,” He groaned.

“Mine,” He bit the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“Mine, mine, mine,”

You didn’t want to be present while listening to his possessions. You wanted to let them grip you and own you and continue to make your stomach flutter. You didn’t want to have to tell Roman right now that you didn’t know if you could be his again…

“You’re mine, always, always, always,” Roman moaned against you, his voice pornographically seductive.

“Yes, please,” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but you just knew you didn’t want the feeling of Roman to stop.

“It’s me and you, we’re together again, it’ll all be OK now,” He says before giving you another sloppy kiss.

“Be with me, be here. We can make it work.”

Roman goes back to attacking your neck with his petal soft lips, but you were finally snapped from your the haze of pleasure he had accosted you with.

“Roman, hold on,” You pushed your hands on his shoulder, “Stop.”

“What?” He pulled away from you quickly, chest heaving as he looked down at you.

He looked so boyishly innocent. His lips flush from kissing and his once perfect hair askew from your ministrations. Eyes wide and questioning. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

“I,” You took a pause, “I can’t stay here, Roman. I just can’t.”

He looked like you’ve shocked him, stuck his finger in an electrical socket and watched. Roman pushed himself further up, but still hovered over you.

“What do you mean you can’t stay?” He says your words back to you like they were a personal affront.

“I live in New York now, that’s where my life is. I can’t just leave.”

Roman’s jaw flexes and you watch him swallow.

“What? So, this means nothing?” He gestures between your bodies.

“No, of course not. Of course it means something.” You replied hastily.

But, Roman was already getting up off of you and started to pace the length of his kitchen. You pushed up to watch him with concern.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, I said I was sorry and I am. I really, truly am! So, why can’t you just stay with me? Be with me?” He argued.

“I know you are! I do, but just because I know you’re sorry doesn’t change the fact that I have a life somewhere else now, Ro. I can’t just abandon it.”

“Why can’t you? Just come home!” Roman threw his arms up in anger.

“I don’t want to abandon it, Roman. I don’t want to leave. I like it there.” You move yourself onto your knees as you speak.

“Jesus fucking-” Roman looked away from you and tugs at his hair, “I can’t believe you right now!”

“Roman,” You sigh.

“No! You know what? I have been declaring my fucking love for you for the past two days and that just means nothing to you? Because it doesn’t mean nothing to me.”

“It means something-!” You begin, but Roman talks over you.

“And that, that on the couch, that fucking meant something to me! Because you mean something to me, (Y/N). You always have and you always will.” He’s shouting now, if he had any neighbors you’re sure they would be able to hear.

Your eyes filmed with tears as you watch him.

“And fuck, while I’ve been going on like a bitch about how I love you, how I’m devoted to you, and you haven’t said shit! Not a word.” Roman’s eyes are beginning to wet as well.

“Is that what this is? You don’t fucking love me?” His anger cracks as his voice quivers.

“Roman, no!” You spring from where you knelt on the couch and rush to him, “I do, you know I do. I love you! I love you so much I ache.”

You cry freely now as you try to clutch his face, but Roman brushes you off.

“I love you, I have always loved you Roman. I always will. But,”

“But what? How is that not enough!”

“I need you to love me enough to know there is nothing for me here.”

“Not even me?” His lip quivers.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Your hands shake and so does your breath, “I mean there is not real life for me here. You have The Tower and that’s you life, but what about me? What could I possibly do here that would make me happy?”

Roman says nothing, just swallows a hiccup that threatened to burst from his throat.

“I need you to love me enough to let me leave.”

Roman’s face crumbles into a drastic frown as he fights tears, “I can’t. I can’t do that, not again, I can’t. I can’t let you leave again.”

“Baby,” You choke out.

“No! I can’t, I love you. So, please, just love me enough to stay. I’ll give you everything you could ever want, anything you could ever dream of to make it better here.”

“Roman, I love you. I do, I always will. But, maybe this will be good for us. Have time apart to be our own people. I think it might even be healthy?” You say your last words with a watery smile that Roman doesn’t return.

“I don’t want to have time apart. I had time apart from you and I was fucking miserable.” He states.

The thought of Roman all alone in this house, heartbroken and stewing in pity and anger makes your heart convulse with pain. You thought of all the nights you slept in your dorm room, silent tears streaking your cheeks as you held your hand over your mouth in hopes to not wake your roommate. You wondered if on the nights you cried for him, if Roman had cried for you? Had he cried at all? Or while you were pouring yourself into your studies to forget him, he was fucking whores to forget you?

“Roman, please just… I love you, just please,” Again, you had no idea what you were begging for. For him to let you leave? For him to convince you to stay? All you knew was that this day had been so catosphroticlly emotionally draining and all you wanted was to fall into his arms for comfort.

“Do you want to be apart from me?” He asked bluntly.

“Roman, just-”

“Answer me. Do you want to be apart from me anymore?”

Your mouth was thick with discarded tears and phlegm. All you could do was look at him and hope he understood you. To tell him you didn’t.

His eyes softened and you knew your mental tether was still intact.

Roman takes a step toward you and moves his head to be level with your own, “Then we’ll make this work. I’ll convince NYU to let you take online classes from here, OK? I’ll build them some new buildings - hell! A new campus. I’ll be their new biggest donor, their new favorite fucking person. I’ll give them whatever they want as long as they give me you in return.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Roman.” You look down at your feet.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

You pierce your teeth into your bottom lip and look back up at him. Back at Roman with his pink, glossy eyes and hopeful gaze.

“I love the city…”

“Then we’ll fly up every weekend, no exceptions. I’ll buy us a loft in the heart of Manhattan.You can design it to your heart’s content. Make it will feel warm and old and us. The opposite of this place.” Roman says quickly like he knew that would be your next rebuttal.

You gasp a sob and close your eyes tight. You feel Roman close the distance between you both and cup your face in his large hands.

“And we will figure the rest out, whatever else is holding you back. We’ll find you your dream job or your passion or whatever you want.”

You crack your pulsing eyes, to see Roman’s face now streaked with tears.

“Just tell me you’ll stay.”

You knew this was a risk. You knew he was a risk. You knew leaving New York and NYU sounded naive and utterly foolish to someone on the outside of your and Roman’s relationship. You knew that you would fight with him, that you would get angry with him, that he’d work too much and that he would have to reschedule trips to the city. You knew you would get irritated with each other and you’d say something snarky and Roman would say something mean. You knew there would be nights you went to bed angry and days where you gave each other the silent treatment. You knew it would be hard. Most things involving Roman were. Expect loving him.

You knew that even with all the bad that came with a relationship with Roman, it was eons better than being without him for a moment longer now that you had him again.

You had wanted to look to the future, to forget the past and forge a new way for yourself. Truthfully, you still did. But maybe you could start over with Roman by your side? Wash away the pain of his indiscretions and learn and grow and heal together? You hoped you could. You hope you weren’t letting your overwhelming love for the man in front of you cloud your judgements.

So, you placed your hands on his neck and watched his face turn hopeful and said:

“Ok.”

i really wish i could say i loved this, but i am really on the fence about if this story is even good at all? it was better in my head. but! i hope you enjoyed it anyway and pllsss if you did, gimme some feedback <3 it makes me happy :-)

#i still have other one shots in the works so hopefully those are better than this!#also prompts will be opening soon (:#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey imagines #roman godfrey fanfic #roman godfrey fanfiction #roman godfrey x you #hemlock grove fanfic #hemlock grove fanfiction #hemlock grove imagine #hemlock grove imagines #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgård fanfiction #bill skarsgård imagine #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard x reader #stevesharrlngtonswrites

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ebaeschnbliah · 4 years

Photo

Still at the centre of the web ….

For the 10th Anniversary of Sherlock BBC (July 2010) the Royal Mail released a lovely collection of six stamps, that display key characters from several episodes of the TV show, as well as hidden messages only revealed under UV light. (X)

I took a closer look at those stamps in the Anatomy of a Stamp Series: A Study in Pink The Great Game A Scandal in Belgravia The Reichenbach Fall The Empty Hearse The Final Problem

Alongside those stamps and in partnership with The Royal Mint (X), a special medal has been crafted as well to ‘celebrate Sherlock’s genius – and his nemesis’ ... to explore Sherlock’s ‘turbulent relationship with arch-rival Moriarty’ as the description says.

A little sideways glance at that medal and the collage of images with which it is surrounded couldn’t be wrong, I thought. :)

TBC below the cut .....

That anniversary medal is available in two versios (cupro-nickel&sterling-silver) and it displays:

on one side - Moriarty’s message ‘Get Sherlock’, the note he carved on the Crown Jewel glass case in TRF, to invite Sherlock to play his game

on the obverse side - ‘The Game is on’, which is meant to be Sherlock’s modern take on the literary version ‘The Game is afoot’

James Moriarty is known to be the famous archenemy of Sherlock Holmes. Contrary to canon, Sherlock BBC introduced that character already in the first episode A Study in Pink and Jim commits suicide (alongside Sherlock) in the sixth episode of the story, which consists of 13 so far. According to canon, Sherlock fakes his suicide and comes back after his hiatus. Although Jim is considered to be really dead for years by now, notes and messages of the character turn up repeatedly on various data carriers ... electronic as well as paper.

Interestingly, it has been chosen for the 10th anniversary of Sherlock BBC to create fan memorabilia which focuses mainly on the confontration between Sherlock and Jim, whose life ended rather quickly at Bart’s roof in The Reichenbach Fall. A great honour for a character who is long dead and seems to be irrelevant for the ongoing story of this adaptation, in which another character - Mary - married John and shot Sherlock and therefore became a sort of new archenemy. Nonetheless, not only every stamp is - in one way or another - linked to Jim Moriarty, the medal and the collage of images with which it is surrounded, displays also mainly text messages connected to Sherlock’s (in)famous nemesis Jim Moriarty.

Here’s a summery of those texts + the corresponding screenshots in the episodes. It surprised me though, that I couldn’t match all of them. There are some interesting exceptions. First the obvious ones:

A Study in Pink

Two images have been used to create this manip for the medal collage. Both are visible thoughts out of Sherlock’s mind palace. And both screenshots don’t turn up side by side. Sherlock’s entire thinking process lies between them. Jeff Hope, the man who killed the lady in pink had been sponsored by Jim Moriarty.

RACHE German (n.) revenge

The correct letter settles into place ... Rachel

He squats down beside the body .... wet

He reaches into her coat pockets and finds the umbrella ... dry

He moves up to the collar of her coat ... wet

He inspects the delicate gold bracelet on her left wrist ... clean

... then the gold earring attached to her left ear ... clean

... and then the gold chain around her neck ... clean

The wedding ring ... dirty

Conclusions appear in front of Sherlock’s eyes ... married ... unhappily married ... unhappily married 10+ years

While the outside of the wedding ring is still showing ... dirty

the inside registers as ... clean

Sherlock has reached a conclusion ... regularly removed

The final deduction about her ... serial adulterer

The Great Game

Three different scenes from this episode have been used for the collage. Two are connected to a serial killer called The Golem, who asphyxiates his victims. One is directly connected to Jim Moriarty, who has planned all the cases in TGG.

1- The Golem killed Alex Woodbridge, security guard and hobby stargazer. That killer appears for the first time on Sherlock’s radar when he searches on his phone for ‘most wanted’ criminals:

JOHN: He’s dead about twenty-four hours – maybe a bit longer. Did he drown?

Sherlock has called up on his phone: Interpol Most Wanted Criminal Organisations Regional Activities LESTRADE: Apparently not. Not enough of the Thames in his lungs. Asphyxiated.

2- The Vauxhall Arches turn out to be the hiding place of the Golem and Sherlock gets the address from an informant of his homeless network. It’s a note written on a piece of paper:

SHERLOCK: Hold that cab. (John trots back to the taxi while Sherlock goes over to the girl.) HOMELESS GIRL: Spare change, sir? SHERLOCK: Don’t mind if I do. JOHN (to the cab driver): Can you wait here? (The girl hands Sherlock a piece of paper. Unfolding it, he sees that she has written “VAUXHALL ARCHES” on it. Smiling briefly, he turns and walks back to John.)

3- The third image out of this episode is one of the exceptions, because they’re not imagined or written words but an actual text line spoken by Jim Moriarty during his showdown with Sherlock at the pool.

JIM: I’ve given you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I’ve got going on out there in the big bad world. I’m a specialist, you see ... like you!

A Scandal in Belgravia

It is Jim Moriarty who adviced Irene Adler how ‘to play the Holmes boys’. It is Sherlock though, who wins that game and is able to get access to Irene’s camera phone. The confirmation of his success appears on her mobil phone screen:

IRENE: Everything I said: it’s not real. I was just playing the game. SHERLOCK: I know. And this is just losing. (Slowly he turns the phone towards her and shows her the screen. She looks down at it, tears spilling from her eyes as she reads the sequence which says: I AM SHER LOCKED

The Reichenbach Fall

Three different scenes from this episode have been used for the collage.

1- Jim Moriarty sends Sherlock his invitation to play the game, while sitting inside the smashed glass cage of the crown jewels, dressed as and equipped with the insignias of a king. The message appears on Sherlock’s phone. This starts the game.

JOHN: Sherlock ... SHERLOCK: Not now. JOHN: He’s back. (Sherlock lifts his head and takes the phone. The message reads: Come and play. Tower Hill. Jim Moriarty x.

2- Sherlock searches for the traces hidden inside the residues of the kidnapper’s footprints. What might be the fifth element? Those five big questionmarks+the number 5 appear as visible thoughts out of Sherlock’s mind palace and are embedded between Sherlock’s rememberence of Jim’s threat ‘I owe you’ and Molly asking about this afterwards. It turns out to be the clue to find the kidnapped children and it marks the beginning of Sherlock’s downfall.

SHERLOCK: I ... owe ... you. SHERLOCK: Glycerol molecule. He sighs heavily as he struggles to identify the item, seeing it in his head as: 5. ????? SHERLOCK: What are you? MOLLY: What did you mean, “I owe you”?

3- Claudette Bruhl, one of the kidnapped children, seems to recognize Sherlock as her kidnapper. The seed of doubt is sawn at Scotland Yard. Then the letters IOU appear on the windows of a building opposite. This message proves to Sherlock that it is indeed Jim Moriarty who is behind that kidnapping case.

LESTRADE: The kid’s traumatised. Something about Sherlock reminds her of the kidnapper. JOHN: So what’s she said? DONOVAN: Hasn’t uttered another syllable. JOHN: And the boy? LESTRADE: No, he’s unconscious; still in intensive care. (In the building opposite Scotland Yard, all the lights in the offices come on. On the second floor, spray paint has been applied to three of the office windows. Sherlock stares at the enormous letters that have been painted: I O U

The Empty Hearse

From this episode two different words out of one of Sherlock’s mind palace deductions have been used for the collage. Sherlock is working on the fake Jack the Ripper case (How I did it), which had been planned by Anderson to lure Sherlock back to London because he firmly believed the detective not to be dead. Sherlock notices the trick though. He comes to the conclusion that the fake corpse is only six moths old and its Victorian outfit had been exposed to first: sun and then: fire damage. (Sun exposure, fire damage, undead .... it’s a bit hard to not get ideas about Dracula here ... X X X :)

The words ‘pine & cedar’ are displayed again as visible thoughts out of Sherlock’s mind palace. And just like in ASIP those words lie several screenshots appart. For some reasons ‘spruce’ has been ignored:

LESTRADE: This one’s got us all baffled. SHERLOCK: Mmm. I don’t doubt it. (..... Sherlock sniffs at the body and tries to decide what he is picking up: PINE? SPRUCE? CEDAR NEW MOTHBALLS Moving on, he sniffs again: Carbon particulate ... He sniffs more deeply: Fire Damage

The Final Problem

Images of three different scenes out of this episode have been used for the collage.

1- The movie Mycroft is watching in his private cinema at his place is interrupted first by images of an old family video, then by Eurus’ message on screen ... “I’m back”. It announces the return of Eurus, the secret sister.

I’M BACK VOICE: Mycroft ... Mycroft ... MYCROFT: Why don’t you come out and show yourself? I don’t have time for this. CHILD’s VOICE: We have time, brother dear. All the time in the world.

2- Sherlock stands in front of the ‘funny gravestones’ at Musgrave Hall and puts together the dates on the stones until he has a long string of numbers in front of him ... visible thoughts out of Sherlock’s mind palace. This brings Sherlock finally the solution to Eurus’ riddle.

.... 1520 1818 2426 1617 1822 32

3- Just like the numbers, the four verses of Eurus’ riddle appear as visible thoughts out of Sherlock’s mind palace. He connects the string of dates from the gravestones to the verses. It is the second verse that has been used for the collage.

I that am lost, oh who will find me? Deep down below the old beech tree Help succour me now the east winds blow Sixteen by six, brother, and under we go! Without your love, he’ll be gone before Save pity for strangers, show love the door. My soul seek the shade of my willow’s bloom Inside, brother mine - Let Death make a room. Be not afraid to walk in the shade Save one, save all, come try! My steps - five by seven Life is closer to Heaven Look down, with dark gaze, from on high. Before he was gone - right back over my (h)ill Who now will find him? Why, nobody will Doom shall I bring to him, I that am queen Lost forever, nine by nineteen.

The exceptions ...

So far, these have been the obvious links between the images used for the collage and the corresponding episodes of Sherlock BBC. Beneath follow the less obvious and the ones I failed to find a match for.

Blue chemistry ...

There are two episodes in which chemical formulas are displayed in the form of drawings.

1- In The Hounds of Baskerville (S2/2) Sherlock is looking for a monstrous hound from hell. Instead he finds the H.O.U.N.D. project in which experiments had been conducted with a deleriant drug, based on fear and stimulus. The informations on this project are key-coded by the name MAGGIE (short for Margaret Thatcher)

2- In The Six Thatchers (S4/1) Sherlock tries - with the help of Toby the bloodhound - to track down the person who smashes plaster busts of Margaret Thatcher in order to find a hidden flash drive with secret informations about A.G.R.A. a group of terrorists. One of the four members had been Mary Watson.

Although there exist several drawn chemical formulas in both episodes, very similar to the one used for the collage, and despite I scanned those scenes screenshot by screenshot, I wasn’t able to find a perfect match. Maybe I still missed something. Maybe that formula on the collage is indeed just an unrelated decoraton .... But it’s interesting to note that the story connects this kind of ‘chemistry’ always to Hounds and Thatcher. (more about chemistry)

Red drop of blood ...

That blood drop used for the collage appears actually in each official episode (TAB as well) because it’s part of the intro. And for the creation of the medal collage, that image has been used two times. In the background there is a smaller and paler version, which is overlapped by a bigger and darker version in the foreground. Of that one, only the lower half is visible. Using two times the same image in one picture, always reminds me strongly of the many Pairs, Twins and Double oh’s mentioned in Sherlock BBC.

Mostly I connect that ‘sign of two’ with John Watson. In my theory he represents the ‘fixed point in a changing age’, the ‘eternal just-friend and still stubbornly ‘not gay’ Watson, the very aspect in Sherlock’s experiment, that needs to be transformed into a modern version of the same character. In other words: the old king has to make way for the new king. According to the original meaning of the Musgrave Ritual that says about the crown of a king: “'Whose was it? His who is gone. Who shall have it? He who will come.”

With this in mind it was easy to compare the drop of watery liquid that falls onto a drop of blood in Sherlock’s experiment, to John in the well, drenched by the water Eurus exposes him to. Emotional context indeed. :))))

When a drop of emotions/chemistry brings the blood to a boil ... (1 2) Drop of blood

Search: London Bridge ...

That’s the most mysterious addition to the collage. While all the other words and images can be linked to the show .... this one is the absolute exception. A ‘search for London Bridge’ doesn’t happen throughout the whole story. Not once. London Bridge doesn’t even play a role in Sherlock BBC. At least not yet ...

Bridges of Sherlock BBC:

In ASIB Irene Adler texts Sherlock that she can see Tower Bridge from her room. In TST Sherlock stands on Vauxhall Bridge while he realizes the involvement of fake AMO, Vivian Norbury.

In TLD Culverton Smith gives the cryptic advice ‘We must be careful not to burn our BRIDGES.’ ... at the same time Sherlock walks with Faith through London and crosses Millennium Bridge and Golden Jubilee Bridge beside Hungerford Bridge.

In TFP little Sherlock stands on a small wood-bridge while he is searching for his lost dog Redbeard.

‘Bridge’ as extension of names:

In TGG security guard Alex WoodBRIDGE is found dead at the bank of the Thames, between Waterloo Bridge and Southwark Bridge.

In TSOT guardsman Stephen BainBRIDGE consults Sherlock and starts the case of the Mayfly Man. He is the first of the three guards (Bainbridge, Sholto, Mary) in this episode. (Changing of the Guard)

London Bridge though does not appear in Sherlock BBC so far. This leaves the question ... why is the note to search for that bridge even on the collage? Where does it come from? And why is it so closely connected to the episode spanning double image of the blood drop from Sherlock’s experiment? The words are displayed inside the smaller, paler blood drop. One wonders .....

(Thanks @gosherlocked for deciphering ‘London’ in that bridge’s name. :)))

The blue ribbon ...

Something that looks like a ‘blue ribbon’ runs through the lower part of the collage. The very distinctive loop, right under the name Moriarty, gave me the idea that this ‘ribbon’ could be the river Thames. And really, my assuption turned out to be correct, it is the Thames. What’s even better, at this distinctive loop the river coils around the peninsula named ... Isle of Dogs.

It surely isn’t an unusual thing to add a part from the map of London, including the Thames, to a collage of images related to Sherlock Holmes. After all, Sherlock is a most famous residient of London. It it is also quite fitting, especially for this adaptation, to display Jim’s name side by side with ‘dogs’. Dogs and hounds do play a major role since the beginning and are closely linked to Jim, John and Sherlock. The barking of a dog in the night can be heard right after John wakes from his nightmare in ASIP, missing shoes lead right away to the villain (very similar to the original Baskerville case) and TFP is all about a lost dog/boy. But there is a little bit more that came to mind, when I recognized the Isle of Dogs.

TheGameIsNow ...

During the run-up to TheGameIsNow-Escape Room Event, (summer 2018) a video was released .... a call-out from Mycroft Holmes to recruit volunteers for The Network. As a part of that call-out, Mycroft mentions a ‘rush of incidents across the capital’ and while he speaks, a map of London is displayed on screen on which a red line runs along and strings together the involved locations, which are marked with the ‘eye-sign’ of The Network. And that red line stops exactly at the Isle of Dogs. That’s why I recognized that peninsula immediately.

Again ... one wonders ...

All in all, one can not deny that a lot of considerations, of work and also of knowledge regarding the show, have been put into the creation of those stamps, the medal and the images used for their presentation. And as usual with Sherlock BBC, some little intriguing mysteries have also been woven into it. :)))

I leave you to your own deductions. Thanks @callie-ariane for the scripts.

January, 2021

#sherlock bbc #still at the centre of the web #10th anniversary #royal mint #medal #get sherlock #the game is on #collage of images #jim moriarty #isle of dogs #the game is now #drop of blood

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