#and I didn't even get to everything I wanted lol

[lee-laurent]

T'es ben chix - Luke Hughes

Summary: Amélie decides Luke Hughes is the cutest boy she's ever seen, but she doesn't know how to tell him.

wc: 7k

content: fluff, a little bit of angst, kissing, panic attacks, anxiety, quick make out session, a couple dirty jokes, long distance relationship (let me know if missed anything!)

notes: don't let the title fool you, this fic is still in english!! i realized the other day while doing schoolwork that i don't have a fic that discusses being french-canadian. so... here we are! this fic was super fun for me to write and i incorporated experiences and challenges i have faced over the last few years. a lot of the mistakes that amélie makes are mistakes that i have made or that other french speakers make when speaking english bc sometimes we try to directly translate things and it just does not work lol i reallly hope you guys enjoy!!! and to any other francophones out there: let's be friends!!

just finished writing and it's about 5k words more than i was planning

Amélie honestly wasn't the biggest fan of going out back home, so going out in a place where she could barely speak the language was even worse. But a few of the girls she'd befriended had convinced her it was a good way to get to know more people and to let loose. She sat with the three other girls at a small table, her fingers drumming against the glass of her cocktail.

"Yeah, what did you think of that guy that presented today, Am?"

"Hm? He did... good."

"No, silly. Did you think he was cute?"

"Oh, um, he's... how do you say... not my type?"

"Not your type? Then what is your type, Am?"

"Probably that guy she's been making googly eyes at all night," one of the others teased.

"Who? The tall, curly haired guy in the corner?"

Amélie blushed, sipping at the alcohol for courage.

"Ooo, she's totally into him!"

"You should go talk to him, Am!"

"No... I tell you... no American boys," she waved them off.

"Well, that's too bad. Cause it looks like he's comin' over here. We'll be at the bar if you need us."

"Guys..."

But it was too late, the other girls were already up and headed towards the bar.

"Calisse," she mumbled, trying to ignore the tall figure approaching her table.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked. She looked up at him, her lips pursed. He had the same curly hair and boyish smile that her friends had been teasing her about. She really hadn't planned on talking to anyone tonight, let alone any boys. The girls knew her rule: no falling for any boys while she was in America.

"Uh... sure," she replied, gesturing to the empty chairs across from her.

He smiled, sitting down casually, rubbing his palms on his pants. "I'm Luke. I, uh, I thought I'd come introduce myslef since we, uh, made eye contact so many times."

Amélie bit her lip, nodding as he spoke. She barely knew enough English to follow what her friends were saying, and now she had to talk to some random guy at this bar she didn't even want to be at. "I, uh, I am Amélie."

"Amélie? That's a really pretty name. Did I, uh, did I say it right? Amélie?"

Her cheeks flushed, her eyes flickering down to her drink. "Yeah... that is right. Thank you." Her fingers tightened around the glass, trying to think of something to say next, but everything just came in French.

Luke could sense her hesitation, suddenly becoming way more nervous about coming over. Maybe it had been stupid. Maybe he was making her feel uncomfortable. "I just thought... I don't know. You seemed nice. Do you, uh, want to talk, or...?"

She met his gaze, taking a deep breath. He was trying and he seemed nice, like he really wanted to talk to her. "I... my English, it is not very good," her accent thickening as she spoke. "It is... hard for me."

Luke nodded, leaning forward slightly. He had teammates that didn't speak English as their first language, so he kind of knew what to expect. "That's fine. I'm sure it's better than my French. That is your first language, right? French? Sorry, I just assumed cause your name-"

"Yes, French," she cut him off, giggling at his rambling.

"I can barely say anything in French, so you've already got me beat."

His attempt to make her feel better worked... a little. "It is easier... to write. But speaking... more pressure, I forget the words lots."

"I get that. But we can just... talk slowly."

She sipped at her drink, waiting for him to continue.

"So, what brings you to Jersey? Not a lot of French people here."

"Exchange... at Rutgers. I am from Québec. Saguenay. But I come here... and I work on my English."

"That's super cool. It's awesome that you're pushing yourself to get better. I, uh, I went to Umich for a bit, but-"

"Umich?"

"Oh, right. University of Michigan. I lived in Michigan before I lived here."

"You move here because..."

"For hockey. I play hockey."

"Oh... that's cool. I like Les Canadiens. You play in the LNH?"

"The NHL? Yeah, I do. You like hockey?"

"Everyone in Québec likes hockey. Very popular."

"But you didn't know who I was," Luke teased.

"Only like Les Canadiens, sorry," she shrugged.

"Well, that's fair, I guess. The Habs are pretty big in Québec, huh?"

"Yes! My family... all big fan." She felt comfortable talking about her family, talking about home, the things she liked. Her dad watched every Habs game on TV and sometimes he'd even drive down to Montréal for a weekend to see them play.

"My family loves hockey too. Everyone plays. My mom, my dad, me, and both my brothers. It's like in our blood... or something."

"They play for... the same team?"

"One of them does. Jack, he plays with me. My other brother, Quinn, he plays in Vancouver," Luke tried to keep it casual, not wanting it to seem like he was bragging.

"Ah! The Canucks!"

"See, you know a bit about other teams," he teased.

"Shhh," she giggled. "Your family... they seem very... what's the word... talented."

"Guess you could say that."

She took another sip of her drink, her mind buzzing with questions to ask, but none of them coming to her in English. She wanted to ask more about his brothers, about how he started playing hockey, but her mouth just couldn't keep up with her brain. She also didn't want to come off as rude or obsessed with him because of his title, so she just nodded.

"You don't have to worry, you know. I'm not judging you," Luke comforted. "So, what do you do when you're learning English or watching the Habs? You got any other hobbies?"

"I like to... read. And bake... when I have time."

"Reading and baking," Luke mused. "What do you bake?"

"Everything," she giggled. "Tarte au sucre is my preferred. My mom... she always bakes with me."

"Tarte au sucre? What's that? Sugar pie?" Luke's eyes lit up. "You'll have to make me that one day. I've never had it."

"Maybe. You will have to see."

"Challenge accepted."

Amélie went to respond, but her phone buzzing stopped her. It was her friends calling, probably ready to head on to another bar. She didn't want her conversation with Luke to end, but she knew she couldn't stay there all night.

"I have to go. My friends... waiting," she sighed.

Luke's face fell a little but he nodded. "Yeah, I get it. But I, uh, this was fun."

"Me too."

There was silence for a little, neither of them wanting to be the first to say goodbye. "You should give me... your phone number. So you can try my tarte au sucre."

"Sounds like a plan," Luke said, handing his phone over for her. She typed in her name and phone number, adding a '<3' next to Amélie.

"Text me," she giggled, waving goodbye as she joined the other girls at the bar. Luke watched as the four of them started talking amongst themselves quickly, giggling as Amélie told them about her conversation with the hockey player.

He finally stood up, making his way back over to the table where his teammates were sat. Curtis raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Well, how'd it go, Romeo?" He leaned forward, failing to conceal his grin.

Luke rolled his eyes, "Good, actually. Really good."

Nico raised his pint, "Told you. You just had to go for it."

"So... what's next?" Curtis nudged him. "You ask for her number?"

Luke nodded, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, we'll probably meet up again."

"Probably?"

"Okay, fine. Yeah, we'll see each other again. I'm going to try her sugar pie she was talking about."

"Sugar pie? Is that what we're calling it nowadays?" Nico teased, causing the whole table to erupt in laughter.

Luke shook his head, letting the teasing slide. His mind was too focused on the girl with a French accent and promises of baking him pie. He had to see her again.

~~

Luke found texting Amélie way easier than he'd imagined. She wasn't lying when she said her writing was better than her speaking. Her texts barely ever had mistakes, in fact sometimes they were worded better than his.

They texted back and forth constantly, which earned Luke some teasing from his colleagues. In writing, Amélie was much more confident, returning his flirting with practiced ease. Her personality really shone through in a way it hadn't at the bar. She'd occasionally crack jokes, usually about how he didn't know any French and that she'd have to teach him. Their conversations flowed, talking about their days, sharing stories, discussing the schoolwork that Amélie had, and sometimes sharing pictures of their meals. Although Jack did most of Luke's cooking, he'd never admit that to the girl.

You have to come and try my tarte au sucre soon! Only if you're brave enough though ;)

Luke grinned at his phone, his fingers furiously typing back a reply.

Oh, I'm brave enough. Just let me know when, and I'll be there.

I will. Maybe next week? I need to make sure it's perfect first.

Deal.

~~

Amélie paced her apartment, making sure that everything was in order before Luke came over. She was even more nervous than she had been in the bar. She really wanted things to go well. They had decided to label the event as their first date, and although a bit informal, she was still shitting herself.

The pie was sitting on her kitchen island, untouched. She didn't want to eat any of it until Luke was there to eat it with her. She was worried he'd get in trouble because it wasn't part of his meal plan for work, but he had reassured it multiple times that it wasn't a big deal if he had a little pie.

Just as she was about to rearrange her throw pillows for the third time, there was a knock at her door. She froze mid-step, wiping her hands on her jeans as she made her way to the door.

It was just a pie. And it was just Luke. Nothing to be too worried about.

She hesitated for a moment before she pulled the door open, tilting her head back to look up at Luke. He was standing there in a Devils hoodie and some track pants, a baseball cap covering his curls. He looked relaxed, his hands tucked in the pocket of his hoodie. Amélie hated how nonchalant he looked in comparison to her.

"Hey," he greeted. "I brough my appetite, as promised."

"Good. I hope you are ready," she joked, stepping out of the way to let him in. He pulled off his shoes, taking in her cozy apartment. He laughed when his eyes landed on the big Québec flag hung behind her couch.

"I'm sure it'll be amazing. I'm looking forward to it, don't worry."

She nodded, though her nerves didn't disappear. She led him into the kitchen where the pie sat waiting. The smell of it filled the small space, warm and sweet.

"Wow, looks good, Am. Guess you weren't kidding about being a good baker."

"It's like you with hockey. My talent," she giggled, blushing as their eyes met.

"I don't know. Your baking skills may be miles ahead of my hockey skills."

"Don't lie. Let's see if it tastes as good as the smell," she grabbed a knife, finally cutting the pie into pieces. She placed a generous slice in front of Luke, taking in how comfortable he looked in the situation. She really admired how easygoing he was compared to her. It was their first date, but his demeanor made it seem like they'd been seeing each other for months. Meanwhile, her heart hadn't stopped racing since she opened the door minutes before.

Luke picked up his fork, flashing her a grin before taking his first bite. His eyes widened and he let out a pleased hum, "Holy shit, this is so good."

"You like it?"

"Are you kidding? This is like the best dessert I've ever had... don't tell my mom I said that. But really, Amélie, you've ruined all other pies for me. Can I take some home to show Jack?"

"Of course! I'm glad you like it. Is my mom's recipe."

"You should probably teach me how to make this, so I don't have to beg you every time I want some."

"I wouldn't mind," she giggled, taking a bite of her own slice. The taste reminded her of home and she suddenly felt a lot less nervous about messing up her English in front of Luke. They continued to eat their pie as they talked, shifting the conversation to more personal topics, wanting to know everything about each other.

Luke told stories about growing up with his brothers, sharing embarrassing moments from their childhoods and the occasional hockey-related mishap. Amélie found herself laughing more than she had since she'd arrived in America, her body filling with warmth.

"And that's how Jack ended up chipping his tooth. Our mom was furious, but Quinn and I thought it was hilarious," Luke explained, shaking his head at the memory.

She laughed, her shoulders shaking. "You and your brother... troublemakers," she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she listened to him talk. God, she could listen to Luke talk for hours. His accent was the cutest thing she'd ever heard and his smile curved up more on one side than the other, almost like a smirk. He was so perfect.

"Yeah, we were. Still are, I guess. But what about you? You got any fun stories about your family?"

"One time my dad, he take us to Montréal for a Habs game. And my older brother he had... he liked one girl he saw. But she was anglophone, no French. He goes up to her and he tries to talk English. But it was soooo bad. Even worse than me. He only knew maybe like three word. I think he said like 'Hey, you pretty, drink?' and she looked at him like he was... insane! He... he panicked and ran away. We bullied him for years after. Our dad, he will still talk about it at dinner sometime."

"That's brutal," Luke laughed. "Glad our first conversation didn't go like that."

"I am just better than him."

Luke shook his head, flashing his lopsided smile that made Amélie swoon. "Clearly. You've got the charm, no doubt about it."

"Maybe a little. But still I get nervous. When you arrive, I think maybe that I would die."

"You hid it well. I didn't even notice. I was the nervous one."

"You? Nervous?" she raised an eyebrow, placing her fork between her lips .

"Yeah, you were... well you are, like the prettiest girl I've ever met," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't want to mess it up."

"Is that a joke? You did not... mess up. I like talking with you."

"I like talking with you too, Amélie"

~~

It was their fourth date and they were back at Amélie's apartment. Luke was sprawled out on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he playfully scrolled through one of Amélie's French-to-English learning apps.

"Come on, give me a word," Luke teased, turning to look at the girl sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her.

"Alright. Alright. Um... try... 'papillon.'"

Luke squinted, trying his hardest to translate it. "Papillon," he reapted slowly. "Uh... sounds like pasta, maybe? Wait, no, wait... um, balloon?"

She let a burst of laughter, learning back against the arm of the couch. "Non! It's butterfly!"

He groaned dramatically, throwing his head back in mock anguish. "Butterfly?! That doesn't even sound like butterfly! What?!"

"You are needing more practice," she giggled, comfortly placing a hand on his thigh.

Luke's eyes widened at her touch, but he couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, clearly I need a lot more practice. You might have to become my full-time tutor."

Amélie smiled, her fingers lingering on his thigh, sending a warmth through both of them. They'd been spending more and more time together, and things were less awkward, but still full of nervousness. The banter between them was easy, but there was an ever-growing tension gnawing at them both.

Luke reached for a throw pillow next to him, lightly tossing it at her. "Give me another one. I swear I'll get it this time."

She swatted the pillow away, but her focus had moved on from French. The space between them had slowly been shrinking and she had just noticed how close they were. She tilted her head, her eyes flickering up to meet Luke's. "I think... maybe you are better at other things than French."

Luke's grin faltered, his breath catching in his throat at her new tone. He glanced down at her hand still resting on his thigh, then back at her face, then back to her hand again. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Like... this."

Before he could question what she meant, she leaned in, her lips brushing his, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, hesitant, but the second their lips connected, everything they'd been holding back snapped into place.

Luke's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened quickly, no longer hesitant, but instead filled with the feelings they'd been dancing around for weeks. Amélie sighed against his mouth, her hands sliding up to his chest, gripping his shirt in his fists. Luke groaned softly, the sound muffled by her lips.

Their kisses turned hungrier, more urgent, as the tension in the room built. Luke shifted, gently pushing Amélie back against the couch as he leaned over her, his body pressing against hers as their kisses grew sloppier. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and Luke's hands slid up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing her cheek as the kiss deepened.

Neither of them wanted to pull away, not wanting to be the first to end the kiss. Luke realized he couldn't hold his breath any longer. He gasped for air before kissing her again, harder this time, his lips moving with more urgency than before. Amélie let out a soft, breathless moan in reponse.

They pulled away again, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to catch their breath. Luke brushed a strand of her hair, that had gotten stuck between them, out of her face. His eyes were still half-closed as he whispered, "I've wanted to kiss you for so long."

Amélie smiled, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to fill her lungs with air. She looked up at him, her lips still tingling. "Me too. I... I did not expect it to feel... like that."

"Good or bad?"

"Good," she whispered, her fingers tracing the back of his neck before pulling him in again, her lips finding his once more. There was no hesitation this time, just unfiltered desire as they gave in to the kiss.

~~

"Where you goin'?" Jack asked, pausing his video game as he heard Luke head for the door. He turned around, noticing his brother wearing his Michigan backpack. "And why do you have a backpack?"

"Amélie's place. I'm spending the night."

"Damn, Lukey boy's finally getting laid."

"Shut up, Jack... there's no confirmation that that's what happening. She just asked if I wanted to sleep over."

Jack smirked, leaning back on the couch with a knowing look. "Uh-huh, sure. You don't pack a bag just to sleep over, bro."

Luke rolled his eyes, adjusting the straps of his bag. "It's not like that. We're just hanging out, maybe watching a movie or something."

Jack snorted. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, lover boy. But just in case, be safe."

"It's not like that," Luke groaned, grabbing his keys off the counter, trying to escape Jack's teasing.

"I'm just saying! Good luck, bud!"

Luke mumbled to himself as he stepped into the hallway, heading for the elevator to the parking garage. His heart was racing more than usual, not just because of Jack's teasing but because tonight did feel different. Spending a night together was a big step in their relationship, especially since they weren't officially official yet.

They hadn't even discussed labels yet, and although they were very close, there was an unspoken worry of figuring out where things were heading. Luke really, really liked her, but he didn't want to rush anything. If Amélie wanted to take things slow, then he would take things slow.

He sat in his car, getting ready to leave when his phone buzzed.

Just picked out a movie. Hope you like rom-coms ;)

Only if we watch it in French so I can practice

Deal.

When he pulled up to her building, he practically leaped out of the car, taking his backpack with him. He knocked on her door, his heart in his throat.

Just go with the flow. No pressure

Amélie giggled when she opened the front door, dressed in one of Luke's Devils hoodies and a pair of shorts he couldn't see from under the large sweatshirt.

"Hey. You look cute," he leaned down to kiss her.

"Hey! Missed you."

"It's only been three days," he laughed, allowing her to wrap her arms around his waist, propping her chin on his chest. "You ready for my horrible French?"

"Ready for anything," she giggled as he ran a hand through her hair.

They stood in the doorway for a few moments more, before she grasped his hand and pulled him into the living room. They settled on the couch, a blanket thrown over their entwined legs.

"Am, I've been thinking..." his thumb brushing lightly against her thigh. "I don't want to overthink it anymore than I already have, but... we've been spending lots of time together. And I really like you."

"I like you too, Luke. A lot."

"Good. Because... I want this to be official. I mean, us. I want us to be official. I don't wanna be just 'hanging out' or 'seeing where things go' anymore. I want you to be my girlfriend." His voice softened at the end, his heart out on a silver platter just for her.

"You really want that?" she gushed.

Luke nodded, "Yeah. I want you. I want... us."

"I want that too," she smiled, shuffling impossibly closer to him, pecking his lips.

Luke pulled her back in for a deeper kiss, relief flooding his body. When they pulled apart, Amélie rested her forehead against his, her fingers gripping the front of his hoodie.

"So, it is official?" she whispered.

"Officially official. You're my girlfriend now."

She kissed him again, laughing into his mouth. "Well... now that we have... figured that out. You have French to practice... boyfriend."

"Let's get started then, girlfriend."

~~

"So... when do I get to meet her?" Jack grinned, knocking Luke's shoulder.

"Oh, um, I can ask her."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You can ask her?" he teased. "What, you haven't mentioned me?"

Luke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have, Jack. I just... didn't think you'd be so excited."

"Dude, of course I'm excited! My little brother has a girlfriend now! And you know I've gotta approve, see if she's good for you. Duh."

"She's not a test subject, Jack. I'm not bringing her so you can interrogate her."

Jack snickered, loving how flustered his brother was getting. "Relax, I'll be nice. In fact, bring her out with us and the guys this weekend. Some of the other girlfriends will be there."

"I can ask her. Just... don't be weird about it. She get's nervous."

"Me? Weird about it? Never. I'm charming."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Come on, it'll be fun. She'll get to meet everyone, and you know the guys will love her. Plus, if she can survive a night out with us, she's a keeper."

"Look, I'll ask. But I know she's been busy with schoolwork. I'll ask her tonight. But seriously, Jack, don't freak her out. Please."

"Scout's honour, man. I'll be on my best behaviour."

"You're not a-- never mind. I'll let you know what she says."

~~

Luke laid next to Amélie in her bed, his arm draped over her waist. She was scrolling through TikTok, laughing at French words he didn't know yet. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, peeking at the screen where some girl was speaking rapid French while doing her make up.

"Hey, Am."

"Hmm?"

"So... Jack and some of the guys are going out this weekend, and a few of the girlfriends will be there too," he paused, thinking over his next words. "Jack was, uh, wondering when he could meet you. He kind of suggested you come along."

She blinked, "Meet... all of your friends? This weekend?"

"No pressure! If you're too busy with school, I totally get it. I just thought it might be fun. Only if you want to, of course," Luke quickly added.

She bit her lip, thinking it over, and Luke could tell she was weighing her options. "I'm nervous. I would... like to meet Jack. To be... part of your world."

He pulled her body closer to his, pressing more kisses to her shoulder. "You're already part of my world, Am. And trust me, Jack's been bugging me about meeting you since our first date. He's... well, he's Jack. But he means well."

"Okay. I will come. But if Jack, he makes me feel awkward, you owe me a very good dinner."

Luke laughed, "Deal. And don't worry, I'll be there the whole time. Plus, survivng Jack means you can survive anything."

~~

"C'est très cute, non?" Amélie asked, showing her outfit off to Luke.

"You look like a millon bucks, baby," he replied, leaning down to kiss her.

"What?"

"It's... it's a saying."

She tilted her head slightly, repeating the words back to herself. "A million... bucks."

Luke thought her accent made it all the more adorable. "It means you look beautiful. Like super, super beautiful."

"English says, they are so strange. First you tell me it rains cats and dogs... now I look like I am money. You explain me all of these sometimes, yes?"

"Of course, baby. But I mean it, you looks amazing."

"Thanks, Lu. We should go?"

"If we have to," Luke pouted, leaning down to give her another kiss.

~~

Amélie gripped the straps of her purse so tightly that her knuckles were white. She had never felt so nervous in her life, not even on their first date. She had so many people to impress tonight and probably less than half the words they had in their vocabularies.

Luke was quick to notice her anxiety. She usually walked with so much confidence, but her posture was slumped and her lip was held between her teeth. "Hey, you okay?"

She nodded, but her choked voice betrayed her. "I... I don't know if I can do this."

"You'll be fine, Am," he whispered, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Jack's going to love you, I can promise you that. And it's just a few of the guys--nothing big. And hey, some of them aren't even native English speakers themselves."

Her eyes were still full of uncertainty, her fingers busying themselves by picking at the skin around her nails. "But maybe I will say something wrong. Or they ask me things, and I do not understand them? Or they will all laugh at me."

"You've been doing so well with your English, love. And if you're ever feeling stuck, just squeeze my hand and I'll come to your rescue."

The bar was pretty empty for the most part, just a few tables of friends talking and sharing drinks. In the back corner, Jack was sitting with a few of the other guys and their better halves.

"There they are!" Jack cheered as soon as he saw them approaching, standing up to greet his brother as if he hadn't seen him in weeks. His tone was loud and confident, and Amélie could feel every set of eyes at the table move towards her and Luke.

Luke gave his brother a quick bro-hug before turning to his girlfriend. "Jack, this is Amélie. Am, this is my brother, Jack."

Amélie felt like all the moisture in her mouth had disappeared, her hand gripping Luke's with a vice-like strength. She opened her mouth to speak, but all her words got stuck. "I, uh, I... hi."

"Nice to meet you, Amélie," Jack said. "Luke's told me loads about you."

She gave him a tight lipped smile, her mind scrambling to find a response, but nothing came. She felt like the weight of everyone's expectations were holding her down. She wanted to wow everyone with perfect English, but all she could do was stand there, frozen.

"She, uh, she's a little nervous," Luke interjected. "Amélie's from Québec, she's here in Jersey to learn English. But her French is like the most impressive shit ever."

"No worries. We're just happy you're here," Nico spoke up.

Amélie forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She sat down beside Luke, her hand still gripping his with immense force. The conversation around the table picked back up, but she remained quiet.

The guys were easygoing, laughing and joking with each other, and the other girlfriends seemed just as relaxed. The more they spoke though, the harder it became for her to follow. She could pick up on bits and pieces of what was going on, but she couldn't seem to form a complete sentence in her head.

"So, how do you like Jersey so far?" one of the other girlfriends, Lexi, asked with a warm smile.

"It... it's very different. But I... I like it," she replied, her eyes not leaving Luke's hand in her lap.

"She thinks back home is wayyyy prettier. Right, babe?" Luke helped to direct her.

"Yes. Québec is very beautiful."

"So what brought you here?" Jack asked, desperately wanting to know more about the girl that had stolen his brother's heart. "School?"

She bit her lip, trying her best to think of how to reply in English. "Yes... I.... study at Rutgers. Exchange."

"That's awesome. What're you studying?"

Her mind went completely blank. She'd even rehearsed answering that exact question, but now, with everyone looking at her, the words were gone. Her hand tightened around Luke's again, taking a sip of water to clear her throat.

"She's studying communications and media. But the point of her exchange is to work on her English skills."

"That's sick," Jack nodded along.

The conversation around her continued, a few questions being tossed her way but her responses were usually just a few words, the gaps being filled in by Luke. The group eventually moved on to a story that Nico was telling, and Amélie used the shift of attention to shrink into herself further. She let Luke rest his hand on her bouncing knee in an attempt to calm her nerves, but his touch felt foreign in the situation.

After what felt like hours, but had most likely only been half an hour, she leaned close to Luke, whispering in his ear. "Je vais aux toilettes." She stood up before he could respond, scurrying off to the bathroom.

Jack shot Luke a curious glance, but he just shrugged, trying to mask his own worry.

Amélie slipped into the bathroom, pressing her hands against the sink as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She felt like she was suffocating, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She hated feeling like an outsider, not being able to connect with Luke's world outside of her.

She wiped under her eyes, praying that her mascara didn't run. She didn't want anyone to know she'd been crying in the bathroom. She just wanted to be like the other girls at the table--relaxed and confident, going with the flow of the conversation.

With one last deep breath, she made her way back to the table. Luke looked up at her as she approached. He could tell something was off.

"Everything okay?"

She just nodded, falling back into her silence at the table. She laughed when everyone else laughed, smiling politely when someone made a remark towards her. Luke had never seen her so quiet in his life, not even on the first day that they met. By the time everyone had left the bar, her anxiety was so bad she thought she might puke.

Luke opened the car door for her, and she slid in, staring blankly out the window. The silence between them was heavy. Luke could feel it too, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel.

"Am, what's wrong? You've been quiet all night. You barely said a thing."

The tears that she had been fighting so hard to keep at bay finally spilled out. "I... I feel so stupid. I-I couldn't even talk to them. I couldn't even... act normal."

He reached out, placing a hand on her thigh. His heart clenched at her words. "You're not stupid, Am. You're doing amazing. You're learning a whole new language, that's huge."

"But I had to have you help on everything. I could... not even answer Jack's questions. They normally think... I'm dumb. Not good for you." She wiped at her eyes, frustrated with herself for crying.

"Amélie, baby. No one thinks you're dumb. And you are more than good enough for me--don't you ever doubt that. Jack loved meeting you. Everyone did. I could tell. They don't care if you need some help speaking English. Hell, some of those guys could use the help speaking English."

"I wanted... to be better. To show I can do this. But I feel...lost."

"You don't have to show anyone that you can do anything. Not to me, not to Jack, not to anyone. I love you for--"

"You love me?"

"Of course I do, Am. I... I didn't want to admit it like this. But... I am so in love with you, Amélie."

"I love you too, Luke. Sorry if I... embarrass you tonight."

"You could never embarrass me, Am. Never ever."

"I-"

"Nope, that's enough out of you. Let's go back to yours and watch that stupid cop show you like."

"Mensonges?"

"If that's what it's called, then yes."

"I love you, Lu."

"I love you too, Am."

~~

"I don't know, Jack. She was so nervous last time..."

"But last time there were other people there too. Just tell her you've got the place to yourself for the night and then I'll walk in a couple hours later and be like 'Oh! Sorry, my plans got cancelled.' And then we can all hangout," Jack suggested.

"I'm not going to lie to her. I'll just ask if she wants to spend the night."

"Come on, Rusty! You know I'm just trying to help her relax around me. You're making it sound like a big deal. It's not! She's your girlfriend, and I want to get to know her. Plus, I'll make it fun! I'm good with people."

"I appreciate the thought, Jack. But I want her to feel comfortable, not tricked. So I'll just ask her if she wants to come over and spend the night. No tricks."

"Fine, fine. Let me know what she says."

"I will. Just... don't be an idiot."

~~

Amélie followed Luke into his apartment, her backpack thrown over his shoulder. She looked around, noticing how painfully obvious it was that two men lived there.

"I'm just gonna put your bag in my room. You wanna go make yourself comfortable on the couch?"

"Sure."

She sat down, curling her legs under herself, glancing around the living room. She picked up the remote off the coffee table, fiddling with while she waited for Luke.

"You good?"

"Yeah. Just... taking in. It is very... you."

"What, you mean messy?"

She giggled, then tension in her shoulders disappearing. "Maybe... un peu."

"Hey, it's organized chaos, baby. I know where everything is. Well... most of the time."

"I like it. Feels... comfortable. Like you."

"That's all I want, babe. For you to be comfortable."

"Where's Jack?"

"Probably in his room. Why? Wanna talk with him?"

Amélie quickly shook her head, her eyes widening. "No, no... just wonder. I don't want to... bother him."

"You're not bothering him. He's probably playing video games or doing some stupid shit. He'll come out here eventually."

The last time she'd been around Jack, she hadn't been able to shake her nerves. Tonight, she was determined to make a better impression, even if she still felt like puking.

Luke gently nudged her with his elbow. "Hey, you're good, Am. Jack's chill. You don't have to be nervous."

"I know... just... want him to like me."

"He already likes you," Luke reassured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "He wouldn't shut up about how cool you were after the last time."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I wouldn't lie to you, silly."

"Love you, Lu."

"Love you too," he leaned in to kiss her when footsteps pulled them apart.

"Aww, did I interrupt a moment?" Jack's teasing voice came from the doorway.

"Relax, Jack. We were just talking... about you."

"Oh yeah?" Jack pushed himself off the wall, making his way to the couch. "All good things, I hope."

"Duh," Luke squeezed Amélie's hand, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. "Amélie was just asking what you were up to."

"Probably nothing interesting compared to you lovebirds. Was talking to Trevor--can't let Luke get ahead of me in the whole having a life department."

She tried to think of a quick response to his joke, but came up with nothing she deemed funny enough.

"Luke tells me you like studying here cause it's different. How so?"

"Um, everything... is feeling bigger here. The city, the campus. And obviously... English. There is like... zero English in my town. We use some words... but not lots."

"Well, seems like you're doing great. Don't stress it. Plus you've got this guy," he gestured to Luke, "to help you out, right?"

She blushed, "Yes, Lu is... super."

Luke grinned, leaning in and whispering, "Told you he likes you."

~~

"I don't know how I'm gonna survive without you, Am," Luke admitted, wiping the tears from his face. His usually calm, relaxed demeanor was gone, replaced with a raw vulnerability.

Amélie had told herself she wasn't going to cry, but seeing Luke cry made that impossible. Her tears had started as soon as his had. "You will, Lu. You are so strong. And... I will not be gone forever."

He shook his head, intertwining their fingers. "I know, but... shit's gonna feel so different without you here. I'm used to having you here all the time. And now I won't see you until summer. I don't know how to do that."

"You'll have Jack, the guys, your family. I'm just... a plane away. We will FaceTime, and before you know... I am back. And I will meet Quinn... and your parents."

Luke rested his head in her lap, letting her run her fingers through his hair. She could feel his tears soaking the fabric of her jeans. "I'm gonna miss you so fucking much, Am."

"I'll miss you too, Lu. So, so much."

They stayed like that for a long time, just wrapped in each other's embraces. Neither of them wanted to let go. Neither of them wanted to admit how hard the next few months would be. They just wanted to stay together... forever.

~~

Amélie was sitting at her desk, her phone propped up against her water bottle as Luke's face filled the screen. His hair was a mess and his eyes drooping. She could tell he had just gotten home from practice.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted.

"Hey, you," she replied, resting her chin on her hand. "How was practice?"

"Exhausting," he groaned. "But seeing your face makes it better."

Amélie blushed, biting her lip as she smiled. Before she could respond, she heard her brothers' voices coming from down the hall.

"Ah, c'est qui, Amélie?" (who is it, Amélie?)

"Son chum?" the other laughed. (her boyfriend?)

"Ahhh, mais Luke, t'es ben chix." (Ahhh, but Luke, you're so hot.)

"Ferme ta gueule!" Amélie shouted. (Shut your mouth!)

Luke burst out laughing at the look on his girlfriend's face. "What're they saying?"

She huffed, rolling her eyes. "They're being idiots. Teasing me about you."

"Teasing, huh?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "What did they say? Come on, tell me."

She sighed, getting closer to the camera with a small smirk. "They said you're... how would that translate.... that you're 'hot.'"

"Oh, did they know? You must have good pictures of me hanging up then, huh?"

"They're just being annoying. They think it's funny to tease me because I love an American."

"Well, tell them I appreciate the compliment. And tell them I say 'hi'," he teased.

Amélie shook her head but shouted, "Luke dit bonjour!"

From the hallway, her brothers responded with exaggerated greetings in their broken English, making the couple laugh.

"They're something else, huh? I can't wait to meet them one day."

"They'll probably want you to ask Cole for free Habs tickets. But... in a few weeks, I'll be back and I'll get to meet all of your family."

Luke's eye lit up at the thought. "I know! I've been counting down the days, baby. I can't wait for you to be here again!"

"Me neither. Excited to meet Quinn and your parents."

"Yeah, my mom's super excited to meet you!"

"I'm a little nervous though."

"Don't be! They are gonna love you so much, Am!"

"I love you, Lu."

"I love you more, Amélie. Only a few more weeks, then we'll be together again. I can't wait."

"You promise?"

"I promise. And I'm gonna spoil you so much. Just you, me, and the lake."

"Can't wait."

[redwylde]

Forcing my two ultimate faves to interact by thinking about how Silver would definitely be interested in biology and the natural sciences because many original ecosystems wouldn't have been able to survive in a world dominated by fire.

In the future he was very interested in history and had to rely on books to learn about anything that came before, but whilst visiting the past he explores and follows field guides in his free time because now he can experience it all for real. Enter Knuckles, who is the most qualified person he knows to teach Silver all about the unique biomes of the world.

At first it just starts out as Silver visiting Angel Island every so often to ask questions and compare notes in his field guide with what Knuckles has seen, which Knuckles enjoys. An excuse to talk about his adventures with a genuinely interested party and they end up bonding really quickly over it. Until Knuckles gets tired of talking about books (and not all of them are correct) so he says fuck it, you can't learn everything from a book and starts taking Silver on forays into the world and shows him everything he dreams to see - ruins reclaimed by nature, entire ecosystems existing on a single type of tree, underwater worlds hidden by algae and sediment.

[kingkat12]

hickeys (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, mentions of sex, softcore-y smut, tw!bullying, Roman using his powers for no good, he's being so weird about virgin!reader, angsty fluff lol

summary: after having sacrificed your friendship with Letha for Roman's limited understanding of love and affection, you suddenly learn the consequences of your actions...

word count: 7,406 (you know me, not sorry anymore)

a/n: this is part 4 of my series seven minutes in heaven! click here to read; part 1, part 2, part 3! enjoy!!!<33

Roman had a hickey right on the side of his throat. Thankfully, I knew who gave him that one-- me.

It dawned on me that I had never seen him with one before. Despite how easy it was for me to get lost in the feelings of joy, finding a sense of pride at being the only one allowed to do that to him, I remembered Roman hadn't always been open to these sorts of things. He had warmed up to it gradually, with everything starting as a small incident at my place a week ago.

We had been splayed out on my bed, my face buried in his chest as I took a casual mid-day nap on top of him. It had become a habit-- Roman would come over, we'd bicker about something, then make out for about an hour until he decided to take his smoke break on my balcony. But today was different; the both of us had just finished a rather hard math test, so we were absolutely spent by the time we hit my bed. Roman didn't even have the energy to smoke, and seeing how tired he was, I decided to be bold and cuddle up to him; however, I hadn't expected us to fall asleep like this.

Weirdly enough, he didn't resist my advances. He'd usually start feeling uncomfortable as he wasn't used to affection like this, but today, Roman had his arms around me as I laid with my head on top of his chest. I had been a little embarrassed to wake up to the sight of a tiny puddle of my drool on his sweater, and I tapped the spot with my fingers as though that would make it go away.

Roman awoke, groggy. He let out a low grunt as he raised his head, trying to get a look at what I was doing. "Is that what I think it is?--"

"No," My words barely came out louder than a whisper, now covering the spot with my palm as I looked up at him with a soft smile. "Did you sleep well?"

Roman, being the stubborn asshole he was, didn't even register my question. "Did you drool on me?"

Oh God, this was mortifying. I figured he'd find out anyway; I slowly removed my hand from the spot, sliding off him. "Sorry..." As I rolled over, my back against the bed, I could only sigh. Being Roman's unofficial official girlfriend was hard, especially now that I didn't have any friends to discuss it with. 

However, there were moments where the hardships were worth it. Moments like these ones, where Roman now flipped over and unexpectedly snuggled up to me, his face hiding in the crook of my neck. "I've never been drooled on like that before," he said, his words muffled in my hair. "This is my favourite sweater."

With wary movements, I brought one hand up to his brown locks, gently stroking through them. I wasn't sure what the next sound from Roman was, but the closest thing would be a purr. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, my other hand running up and down his broad back. "Want me to buy you a new one?"

Roman huffed; "Don't be stupid. I'll just leave it in the washer here if you don't mind," 

"The washer?" My hands froze, no longer ghosting over his skin with gentle touches. "It will dry up in a second, Roman, get yourself together. And even worse, I might get the urge to wear it if you leave it here." I immediately regretted that joke the second it slipped past my lips-- in hopes of brushing over it, scared he'd climb off me and go back to being his usual self, I resumed running my fingers through his hair and up his back.

To my surprise, Roman didn't react much. The only thing I could notice was a rather shaky breath against my neck, almost as though he had just had a really tempting thought. Eventually, he spoke; "It wouldn't fit you very well,"

I did my best to shrug, although that was hard to do with someone on top of me. "That's not the premise," I huffed. "People usually wear each others' stuff when they're into one another. It's a cute thing."

"... So you'd want me to leave my sweater here?" Roman eventually propped himself up on his elbows, meeting my gaze. "Why? It's not like you'd be able to wear it anywhere."

It was in moments like these that I realized how little Roman actually knew about girls. He was supposedly very good in bed, but with feelings and affection? He was like a very aggressive puppy with gorgeous fur-- some men you simply have to train to be soft. "I'd wear it at home," I said, reaching out to brush his messed up hair away from his green eyes. "Especially when it's stormy outside and I'm doing my homework."

Something about my words seemed to be leaving small cracks in Roman's shell-- had I not been so observant, I wouldn't have noticed the way his pupils dilated or the way his features softened as he looked at me. "Would it be a one-way thing?" he asked; was I imagining things, or did he sound shy? "You get my sweater, and I get..."  Roman propped himself up further, taking a quick glance around my room. It didn't take long before his eyes landed on the plain, black hair ties on my nightstand, and he wasted no time reaching for two in one go. "I get these."

Seeing him so serious about this exchange was too funny-- I couldn't help the giggle building in my chest, suppressing a rather obnoxious laugh. "Yeah, I think that's smart," I murmured, stroking my thumb over his cheek. "Your hair is getting a little long... Would probably make your life easier."

Roman rolled his eyes, huffing. "It's not exactly like you have anything else lying around here!"

There was no way in hell I was about to tell him that my room was this clean because I had predicted he'd come over. "Okay, but it still works," I reached for his hand, taking the ties into my palm before rolling them over his fingers, watching as the rubber bands now sat comfortably at his wrist. "There you go!" I exclaimed, beaming up at a rather perplexed Roman. "Sweater, please."

It took a few seconds for him to react-- his eyes fixated on the black rubber ties around his wrist, and before I knew it, I saw slivers of pink appearing on his cheeks. I had never seen him react to anything like this before, and I had no idea why Roman was suddenly unmistakably blushing. "Fuck," he breathed. "That's cute." 

To hide his blush, he quickly wried his sweater off his body, throwing it away on a chair nearby before burying his face in the crook of my neck again, putting his whole weight back on me. "Promise to use it for dirty stuff too," he grumbled, probably to save face, before pressing a kiss to my neck. 

I was happy Roman didn't see how brightly I was smiling-- I would've been told off immediately, and he'd most likely retract right back into his shell. It was unusual for him to accept any sort of affection, and I wondered whether he had let anyone this close before. The more I got to know Roman, the more he was sleepy and babbling around me, I realized that I had to gradually ease physical kindness into his life to make our weird whatever-ship work. 

The whatever-ship I had sacrificed everything for.

And I would've spiraled deeper into thoughts about it, but the sudden pressure I felt against my neck made me snap out of it-- I realized he was giving me a rather hefty hickey, a familiar tingling sensation coursing its way through my body. I let out a satisfied sigh, my fingers burying themselves deeper into Roman's hair as he moved elsewhere on my neck to make a second one. "These will go well with the sweater," he purred against my skin.

I held back a shiver-- The hate I had once felt for him had quickly turned into whatever this was. All I knew, was that it felt good enough to distract me from the guilt that kept gnawing at me after betraying Letha the way I did. ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next day at school actually marked a month since the last time Letha and I had spoken on the bleachers. A month of staring at her longingly from afar like a kicked puppy and asking our mutual friends how she was. It didn't take long before they all heard what had happened between Roman and I, and they suddenly became Letha's friends only.

I didn't know how lonely I would be after I chose Roman, and it was slowly breaking my heart. Being blacklisted by nearly all the girls at school was tough, to say the least. 

So as I rummaged around my locker, getting ready for my next class, I didn't expect Letha to approach. There was no way I could imagine she'd do that, especially after the way she had been denying all my attempts of reconciliation. But here she was, blonde hair styled to perfection, and her green, stern eyes meeting mine the second I closed my locker door.

I stared right back, at a loss for words despite opening my mouth to speak. 

Letha cleared her throat, pressing her books tightly against her chest. "It's been a month," she tried, something about her softening with the weight of her words. "I think I might be ready to... talk."

My heart jumped up like never before, immediately thrown into a feeling of ecstatic victory. "What?" I squeaked, unable to stop my beaming look of joy. "Are you serious?" 

Letha shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek to suppress her smile. "I think it's time to try, at least?--" Her words came to a halt the second I turned to face her fully, and her green eyes immediately found my neck. 

My hair had moved to behind my shoulders as I turned around, revealing the hickeys I had tried my best to cover with setting powder and foundation. It didn't take long before Letha's softening look became one of horror as she took a step back, clearly repulsed.

I immediately went into panic, piecing it together. "No, Letha, wait!--"

There was no stopping Letha before she turned on her heel, bolting down the corridor with heavy steps. 

I turned back towards my locker, pressing my forehead against it. There was no way in hell I'd let everyone see me cry in public again. It felt as though Letha had dug her hand into my chest and ripped out my heart, now squeezing it until it finally popped. My breath hitched as I stepped away from the locker, sniffling as I felt a sob build.

Just as I was about to leave and get to class somehow, the familiar scent of cinnamon entered my system. "What did Letha want?" Roman asked, his hands tucked into his pockets as he approached. His brows were drawn together in a disapproving look as he watched Letha disappear down the hallway in unmatched hurry, and I got a good glance at him when I finally turned around to face him. How long had he been watching me from afar?

Roman's glare quickly faded away when his attention shifted and he noticed the way my eyes had glossed over. His whole tough look disappeared within a sliver of a second, and I was unsure whether he noticed it himself. "... Nothing good, I see?"

I shied away from his gaze, my eyes darting down to my shoes. "She wanted to make up all until she saw... well," To demonstrate, I turned a little, showing Roman the once blank canvas which was now covered in about six hickeys that I counted last night. It was clear to me that my attempt at hiding them had failed.

Roman could only sigh, an infuriating grin now spreading across his face. "I'm going to say sorry now, but know that I don't fully mean it because... the sight of you like this is so damn hot," He leaned down, pressing his lips against my forehead as he took my face into his hands. I couldn't help but notice that he was still wearing my two black rubber bands just as my breath hitched at the loving gesture.

Something about the kiss made my heart skip, but another part was ripping at me; Roman clearly cared more about the fact that he had marked me than how upset I was. I hummed in response, not knowing what else to say before much later; "Don't do that,"

"Do what?"

"Don't kiss me like that," I mumbled, pressing my back against my locker to make as much space between us as possible. "Just... Don't." 

Roman's first reaction was on display with a stunned expression, up until his brows drew together in what I could only read as annoyance. "Fine," he said, teeth gritted. His hands fell down at his sides, trying to save face as he took a step away from me; "I'm just trying to make you feel a little better, it's not that fucking deep." In true Godfrey fashion, he also proceeded to storm down the hallway, clearly flustered after being shut down.

I had to take a long breath-- this was a lot to take in for one day. Roman being in denial about his feelings also didn't help much. I wanted to run after him, grab his hand and tell him that he could do absolutely whatever he wanted with me, that I'd love for him to kiss me like that once more, but I knew I couldn't.

It was hard to believe how badly I had fallen for a guy who could barely regulate his own feelings. Someone who insisted on making it apparent to everyone that I was his without actually wanting to put a name to it. I let out a sigh, watching Roman get further and further away. Something told me I maybe should've followed him, at least asked him whether he wanted to come to my place later and sleep next to each other, but my plans quickly fell apart when I witnessed the one thing I hated seeing most in the world.

In the midst of his angry storm-off, Roman managed to turn his head to allow for his eyes to follow a girl with an exceptionally short skirt passing him by. 

I wanted to throw up-- the hungry look in his eyes made me nauseous. Everything about Roman looking at someone in the way he usually looked at me made me want to burst into tears all over again. 

No matter what I felt for him, one thing would never change; I hated Roman Godfrey. I hated him and the way he made me feel like a stomped bug. Hated the way he'd look at me after he'd make me cum around his fingers, the way he'd stroke my hair away from my forehead with the gentlest touch as I fell asleep, and the way he'd insist on driving me everywhere just to spend some extra time together.

I hated him. I hated this feeling, and especially what it had done to me, my friendships, and my reputation.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

... Thoughts of my reputation went out the window now that Roman was back in my bed. Nothing suggestive, of course-- he was currently half asleep next to me. Even more heartwarming, was the fact that he still wore my two hair ties around his wrist, and I could get a proper look at him now that he was resting. I loved this feeling; we were both wearing the items we had exchanged.

"It looks good on you," he mumbled, tugging me closer with the arm he had around me. "My sweater. I thought I would hate seeing you in it, but it's not so bad."

My body was halfway on top of his, and I couldn't help but giggle as he pressed me closer to his chest. "Why did you think you'd hate it?" I adored the feeling of being completely engulfed in Roman-- the lingering scent of his perfume stuck to the gigantic sweater I was in, and his big arms around me made all my pain feel worth it. 

All up until Roman hummed, eyes still closed as his hands raked through my hair; "You wearing my stuff makes it real... Like you're mine. I don't know whether I want that responsibility,"

I could only sigh, unsure whether I should let my heart sink just yet. Sometimes, it was best to dig around in Roman's mud of a brain before settling for the version he wanted me to believe. "So you would be okay if I was with someone else?"

Roman opened one eye, glancing down at me as he raised a brow. "Are you with someone else?"

"... No,"

"Would you want to be?"

What an odd question; one he didn't need to know the truth of. "Would you care if I did?"

Roman opened his second eye, now scouring my face to check for cracks in my facade. Something told me he wasn't buying it, but that he wasn't about to take any chances. Eventually, he scoffed, rolling his eyes before closing them again; "Fuck off,"

"Fuck off yourself," I mumbled, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I tried to dull out the fact that his arm automatically wrapped itself tighter around me before I spoke once more; "Answer the question."

"Why?" Roman shifted, pulling my whole body on top of his, letting out a satisfied sigh now that all of my weight was laid on him. "It's a stupid question. Why can't we just enjoy this moment?"

He had a point, sure-- I just didn't deem it enough. "I hope you remember that I have a lot on the line here," I placed my hands next to his head, pushing myself up to get a proper look at him. Roman eventually opened his big, green eyes, and they quickly rounded out as they met mine. Everything about looking into his eyes made me want to squeal and pepper him with kisses; this was dangerous territory. I knew had to pull myself together; "I have, like... zero friends because of this. Because I chose you. And you not wanting to take on that responsibility or whatever it was that you called it, makes me feel like crap. You make me feel like crap." 

It was clear that Roman was holding his breath without thinking about it. He stared up at me, unsure what to say; "... All the time?"

"What?"

"Do I make you feel like crap all the time?"

That was certainly a way to spin it-- taken aback, I furrowed my brows as I pondered the question. "Not... all the time, no,"

Roman hummed; he seemed content with that answer. "I know you're upset about the whole Letha thing," he said, his big hands traveling down to grab at my hips as he shifted me to sit in his lap. "I also see that I'm not exactly helping the situation, but... you can't keep blaming me for your decision."

"... Okay," His request was simple enough-- I was ready to adhere to his wishes. "But then you have to say it out loud."

"Say what?"

"That you like me,"

I watched as Roman's eyes widened, his grip on my hips tightening. His whole body tensed up, unsure whether to speak or not. It was clear that he was conflicted about how to tread forward, and I held my breath the second his plush lips parted. Roman sat up, his back now supported by my headboard. Like this, I was sat in his lap with my arms draped around his neck, and he connected our foreheads with a sigh. Roman's words eventually came out like a slow, warm whisper; "I don't know what I feel," 

It felt as though my heart had lodged itself into my throat-- what? I was about to start arguing with him, cursing him out for dragging me through the mud for nothing, all until Roman suddenly reached for my hand. He placed my palm over his heart, his eyes finding mine as he steadied his breathing. "I don't know what I feel," he echoed. "But I know that looking at you makes my heart beat faster. Feel how hard it's going?" He pressed my hand further up against his chest, something about his touch giving away the sincere nature of this gesture. I hadn't seen Roman doing anything this romantic before, and everything was practically perfect all up until he opened his dumb teenage mouth; "I'm serious. It usually only beats like this when I look at pictures of Sydney Sweeney in a swimsuit."

That's it-- I groaned and ripped my hand out of his grip. "Okay, that's enough. You need to leave, it's almost midnight," In an attempt to climb off him, I almost made it out of his lap before his hands grabbed my hips once more, forcing me back down as I yelped. My eyes widened as they met Roman's, watching his signature smirk spread across his lips. 

"Where do you think you're going in my sweater?" he purred, suppressing a chuckle. "My sweater, my rules. Give me a kiss before I leave, at least."

I huffed as I snaked my arms around his neck, feeling his hot breath against my lips. "And why should I kiss you?"

"Because you want to?" Roman didn't care to try to suppress his grin, gently nudging my nose with his as his grip on my waist tightened. His voice dropped, getting airy as he whispered against my lips; "You want to so bad."

Everything about him made the butterflies in my stomach flutter-- it didn't help that his hair was tousled in a classic heartbreaker look, along with how ridiculously soft his lips suddenly looked. 

Roman definitely noticed the reddening of my cheeks, concluding why I had gone mute. "Don't be like that," he teased, not doing a good job with hiding his amusement. "Just kiss me first, for once. Have you noticed that you never initiate anything?"

I held my breath-- "I just... don't know what I'm doing," My confession was unexpected, but it felt nice to get it off my chest. "I don't want you to think I'm clueless."

"But you are?" Roman's chuckle was one of mischief as his hands shamelessly trailed down my body, now grabbing my ass as he pushed me closer to him. "It's not a bad thing. Just means I can program you to my liking."

I didn't even act as though I wanted his hands off of me, giving in to his antics. Something about the way he was holding me made me feel awfully warm-- maybe it was time to take off the sweater? "Tell me what you like, then," I purred, putting my hands on his chest. I figured that if I had gone down this route, I'd continue my path with conviction. 

Roman's smirk only grew, letting out a breathy laugh against my lips as he gave my ass a firm squeeze. "That's my girl," he cooed. "We'll start simple." He nudged his nose against mine once more, his lips parting before his words came out in a hot whisper against mine; "Kiss me."

His words were too alluring to deny-- I leaned forward, my hands carefully laying against his broad shoulder as I kissed him. A sigh of satisfaction escaped Roman, who immediately dug his hands into the flesh of my behind to tug me closer. Everything about the way he was reacting to me reminded me of our first date, and the way he had held and kissed me in the alley when we were hiding from Letha. 

The kiss was slow, almost lazy; something about the moonlight hitting us was making it more intense. It mostly consisted of small, loving pecks, and many pauses to simply smile against one another. I wondered whether he had ever kissed anyone like this before, with a softness I didn't see in him very often. 

It was hard to believe that this was the same guy that had me running around scared for him to prick me with needles. The only thing pricking me right now was the hardening of Roman's cock beneath me. With every twitch, every time his hands dug into my hips in an attempt to grind me against him, I could only grin into the kiss. There wasn't exactly anything sexual about this kiss, but he would always get hard from the smallest little things-- I couldn't help but find pride in it. At least this was another confirmation that he wanted me.

Roman eventually grew frustrated, now trying to rut up against me just for any sort of friction. With that, I grabbed the headboard, raising myself with my knees so that he wouldn't succeed. As he groaned, I had to bite down on my growing smile; the look on his gorgeous face was too damn thrilling.

Roman's eyes were round, his chest sinking with a shaky exhale as a rosy flush lingered in his cheeks. "Anything," he breathed. "Just give me anything. I'll take it."

"Anything?" I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at; "What do you mean?"

His hands grabbed at my waist, signalizing that he wanted me to sit down on his arousal once more-- perhaps that felt like a relief in itself? Roman stared up at me through his brows, his fingers digging into my flesh. "I'm not asking you for sex. I'm being nice. So I'm saying I'll take anything you'll give me... Even the smallest thing," He leaned forward, pressing a wet kiss against my neck which had me losing my breath within seconds, now whispering against my skin; "Just touch me." Roman's needy kisses trailed up my neck, jaw, and cheeks until his breath was hot against my ear. "However you want. Don't be shy, try it out."

Something told me that Roman was secretly into me being a virgin, after all this time of making fun of me for it. However, I wasn't about to say no to the opportunity to explore with the Roman Godfrey, and I eventually sat back down on his arousal, my cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red at the sound of his muffled grunt. 

My hands went up into his soft hair, pressing a kiss against his temple as my fingers stroked through his locks. "There's one thing I might want to try..."

Roman turned to nip at my jaw, his hands traveling back down to my ass. "Go for it,"

I didn't want to give him time to change his mind; my hand in his hair tightened, pulling him away from me with an unexpected roughness. I was about to apologize until I noticed the way Roman closed his eyes, and the way his lips parted in what looked like pleasure. It suddenly dawned on me that he might be the type to like a little pain, not only cause it. However, I wasn't ready to explore that at the moment-- I had another thought to attend to. 

Roman's head lolled back against the headboard as I leaned down to kiss his neck, and it was clear to me that he was enjoying himself. It was only when his fingers dug themselves back into the flesh of my behind that I got the confidence to pull through with my original plan; I sucked down on a particular spot, hard enough to leave a mark.

I didn't need to see his face to know that Roman's eyes were wide open with the realization of what was happening. I was ready for him to push me away, tell me off, tell me to stop-- but his arms only wrapped around me, pulling me closer in a swift motion that had me grinding up against his hard cock, and Roman let out a sigh of pleasure as he let himself be marked with a blooming hickey. 

Something told me I had to be somewhat special for him to allow me to do such a thing, and it quickly dawned on me that I had never felt this happy with anyone before, despite his shortcomings. 

I liked Roman more than I had ever liked anyone before, and I had an inkling that he felt the same. Who knew something so simple could feel so incredibly good?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Knowing I had Roman wrapped around my finger, despite him not being able to properly say it out loud, had me floating around in my own little bubble. Everything concerning Letha suddenly felt irrelevant, and it wasn't taking up as much space in my mind as before. All I could think about was the way Roman had smiled at me as he passed me in the hall, the red hickey on the side of his neck peeking out past his shirt. The cherry on top of it were the two hair ties he still wore around his wrist-- he was enjoying this, wasn't he?

However, I was yanked back into the absolute shitshow I had caused for myself concerning my girlfriends later that same day.

My previous friends had never done anything more than glare at me from across the hall. Maybe the occasional overdramatic huff when they passed me, an extra eye-roll my way, and so I did my best to not pay it any mind. 

Which is why I was so shocked when the proceeding followed. 

It didn't bother me to sit alone at lunch-- not anymore, at least. I wasn't about to reach out to Roman to ask where he was and whether I could join him either; but just as I picked up my phone, ready put away my nerves and text him, my gaze was diverted from the screen and to the three girls that sat down in front of me.

I held my breath, my eyes widening with the realization that my previous best friends were staring at me with the nastiest looks I had probably ever seen.

Oh no.

Breathing deeply, I did my best to harden my gaze and keep my guard up. "What do you want, Jasmine?" I asked, putting my phone down on the table as I stared down the girl in the middle. Jasmine was the one I had liked the least in our friend group, and I wasn't surprised that she was the one to take action-- the rest of the girls always followed her like dogs, and it had always made me sick; especially now that they were sititng by her like docile animals.

Jasmine cleared her throat, leaning further over the table in an attempt to intimidate me; "We're just here to make you aware of something,"

"Which is...?"

Taken aback by my lack of reaction, Jasmine's eye twitched just slightly as the girls next to her grew more and more uncomfortable. "Letha told me what she saw on your neck this morning. And sitting this close to you, I see it too... Do you not understand how it makes you look?"

There was no way for me to hold back my sarcasm; "How does it make me look? Do indulge, Jas," I couldn't even hold back my grimace at this point. "Why does it even matter to you?"

Jasmine's eye twitched once more, and she slammed her hands against the table with a loud thud. "What upsets Letha, upsets me! I'm just glad I found out what kind of person you truly are, and it brings me immense joy to realize everyone is starting to catch on to the truth as well!"

Despite how hard I attempted to stay neutral, unaffected, and unfazed, I couldn't do anything about the way my heart sunk. I couldn't even muster up anything to counter Jasmine's words, taken aback by the bluntness of my previous friend.

"Letha really wanted to reconcile, do you know that?" Jasmine continued, an evil snicker building in her throat. "But it's fucking disgusting that you walk around like you're proud to be fucking Roman Godfrey, especially when you know how much you've hurt her. Fucking traitor!"

Before I could protest, she reached for my phone which I had left unattended. There was barely any time to pry it out of Jasmine's hands before she stood up and smashed it into the table, the rest of her posse scurrying away from the table before the pieces of glass could hit them. I didn't have to look to know that the whole cafeteria was watching this scene play out; it was only when I heard gasps coming from around us that I truly realized the extent of what had happened.

As the glass from my phone had bounced off the table, the sharp pieces flying in every direction, I had covered my face with my hands. So, when I slowly pried them away from my eyes, turning them around to identify where the stinging of my skin was coming from, my eyes fell on the three pieces of glass lodged into the back of my hands. It wasn't too deep, not enough to scar or cause real damage, but damn-- it burned like crazy. 

With tears in my eyes, I watched as Jasmine snickered, clearly unaffected by the fact that she had caused me physical harm; "We're ready to make your life a living hell," she hissed. "That'll show you. Fucking whore."

Something inside me broke. Usually, I would've fought back, I would've said something-- but I froze. Completely. I had never felt anything like this, the mix of both physical and mental pain turning me to stone.

Fuck. Was this truly how everyone saw me? Nothing more than one of Roman's countless whores?

I knew this would haunt me for the following weeks to come, and I couldn't fight the way my mind shut down. The need to get away overcame me; with shaky steps, I got up from my table, realizing I was about to leave school despite the day not being finished. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I had avoided Roman like the plague for the rest of the day-- I was almost as broken as my phone. I held the pieces in my hands under the dim lights of my desk in my room, nudging the glass around on the table. My phone had completely shattered, now just a heap of technology I held onto for the sake of nostalgia in a deep state of shock.

I kept glancing at my hands, my fingers ghosting over the three thin cuts that had parted my skin. They were thankfully not that grotesque to look at, and I was quite sure I could play it off as a scratch from a particularly large cat if anyone asked. 

Or... so I hoped. 

I wondered whether Letha knew about what had happened. Did she condone it? Had she been the one who ordered Jasmine and her gang to mess with me? Everything about this situation made my head spin-- Choosing Roman might've been the wrong decision. I kept thinking about an alternative universe in which I had never asked him to kiss me in the first place, or one where I had told Letha about my feelings for her cousin before it was too late.

It dawned on me that I had mostly likely made the wrong choice-- how was I supposed to deal with this?

Just as I was about to toss the remnants of my phone into the nearby bin, I heard a few knocks at my window which made me turn towards the sound. There he was, the last rays of today's sunlight making the bronze hues in his hair shine through; Roman tapped against the glass once more, eyes round with an emotion I couldn't piece together from afar.

I walked towards the window and opened it, leaning against the frame as I spoke; "What are you doing here?" My tone was sharper than expected-- seeing him didn't exactly make me feel any better.

"You haven't answered my messages," Roman didn't seem to be in a hurry about getting off my roof, making himself comfortable by sitting down by the window. "All day. Radio silence. I'm not really used to that from you, so... just checking to see whether you're having a stroke or something."

I did my best not to roll my eyes; "A stroke?"

"I don't know?" Roman shrugged, his green eyes never leaving mine. "What other explanation is there for a girl not answering me?"

I grimaced as I watched his expression. It was impossible to push down the intense feelings of frustration when I looked at him, all my love for him manifesting back to its usual hate-- I wouldn't have been in this situation if I hadn't met him. This was technically just as much his fault as mine. 

Why did he look so confused? It suddenly hit me that he was being dead serious; he didn't get it at all. He genuinely couldn't find another reason for my absence. "Oh," was what I managed to say, clearing my throat as I sat down on the window sill. "Have you not heard?" 

Roman blinked twice, clearly lost as he looked up at me. "Heard what?"

My eyes darted down to my hands, which I had covered with the sleeves of Roman's sweater without even thinking about it. "I thought everyone would be talking about it," I mumbled. "I guess that's a relief, then."

"What are you talking about?" The green of his eyes nearly swallowed me, and I found a tiny trace of genuine concern behind them, so miniscule I could barely notice it. "What happened?"

I wanted to disappear into a heap of nothing; it was so embarrassing that I had let this happen. My pride was definitely trying to choke the life out of me. "My phone broke," I breathed, automatically reaching for the hem of the sweatshirt out of nervous habit-- I felt my cheeks flush, nervous to be revisiting the moment that had haunted me all day.

Roman's brows furrowed, unsure how to react; "You made it sound like something really bad had happened. I could buy you a new one, no problem," He watched me pick at the sweatshirt, now reaching out for my hands to stop my destructive fidgeting.

I let out the breath I had been holding the second our fingers intertwined, feeling the roughness of his hands against mine. My eyes rested on the black hair ties he still wore around his wrist, a blooming warmth igniting in my chest and wading through all my anger. I was so swept up in the moment, comforted by the way he squeezed my hands twice, that I didn't catch the moment the sleeves of the sweater bunched up and revealed the cuts on the back of my hands. "You don't need to buy me a new phone, don't be ridiculous," I said, watching a single strand of his brown hair slowly fall over his eyes as he glanced down. "I'd feel bad--"

"What's this?" Roman's grip around my hands tightened, now bringing them up to his face. 

It felt as though my breath had gotten lodged in my throat as I watched Roman's widening green eyes scan the surface of my hands. His brows drew together once more, thumbs swiping over the unhealed wounds. The touch made me hiss, attempting to get out of his grip, but to no avail. "It's the neighbour's cat," I tried. "I bent down to pet it, and--"

"This is not from a cat," Roman's gaze darted up to meet mine, suddenly a lot more intense than usual. "I'll ask you again, what happened?"

I tried to squirm out of his hold once more; "It's not important, Roman... Forget it, please. Actually, I'm going to have to ask you to leave--"

"Tell me,"

"No, seriously, drop it! Can't you just go?!--"

Roman's grip around my hands tightened further, almost to the point of making me wince. "Tell me," His pupils widened at an eerie rate, transfixed on mine. It felt as though his words were echoing through my head, and it didn't take long before I suddenly felt as though my inner monologue froze over.

And before I knew it, my mouth had a mind of its own; "They broke my phone,"

"Who?"

I really, really tried to fight it. Getting Roman involved in this drama was certainly not ideal, and I did my best to push away the urge to tell him; why was it so strong, all of a sudden? It almost felt as though he was controlling my mind, but it was ridiculous to even think so-- that was obviously impossible. Right? 

I eventually got around to answering; "Jasmine," 

"... Who?" Roman was beginning to sound like a really confused owl.

"Jasmine," I echoed. "Letha's friend. She brought a few girls over to my table and smashed my phone. Called me a whore."

Roman was silent for a few seconds, his face going unnaturally blank. "These cuts are from your phone?"

"Yeah,"

"And she did it because you're with me?"

"... Yeah," Did he just insinuate that we were together? I held my breath, unsure why my mouth wasn't adhering to my orders-- I so desperately wanted to point it out, but I physically couldn't. What on earth was happening?

Roman hummed, his grip around my hands loosening. "What else did she say?"

I blinked several times in an attempt to get out of the trance-like state I found myself in, but nothing seemed to be working as long as Roman's gaze was locked on me. "She said she's gonna make my life a living hell," As I sniffled, I realized tears were pooling in my eyes. I squeezed them shut, shaking my head to try to snap out of it once more. "I- It's fine, though." It dawned on me that the trick was to not look at him-- I finally started feeling like myself again. "I just need to talk to Letha and check out the options for a truce, or whatever."

As I dared to open my eyes, I watched his blank face. Something about the lack of reaction was unsettling, on the border of uncomfortable, and it almost made me want to squirm. It was in this silence that a thick, red drop of blood suddenly made its way down Roman's nose, and he didn't react when it met his lips. It was almost as though he had frozen to his place on my roof, and I couldn't remember the last time he had blinked.

My eyes widened, concern filling my body. "You're bleeding," I breathed, trying to get my hands out of his. "Let me get something for you, Roman, it's gonna run down to your shirt!--"

Abruptly, he got up with a quickness I hadn't seen in him before, still not saying a word. Suddenly, I couldn't help but notice it-- the hickey on the right side of his throat. One he wasn't even trying to cover up. Despite how much Roman kept denying wanting to be with me, here he was, getting up to do God knows what whilst quite literally baring my mark on his skin.

I watched him, my brows drawing together in complete and utter confusion. "Roman?" Calling out his name didn't seem to do anything; he let the stream of blood run down his chin, now dripping down onto his shirt. I could only look up at him, unsure why he was acting like this.

Finally, Roman spoke; "Living hell, you say?" His voice was low, threatening-- it was suddenly clear to me that he had gotten a very dark idea.

These sorts of proclamations coming from a guy who had an affinity for pricking girls with needles genuinely concerned me. I got up from the window sill, ready to climb out onto the roof to join him. "Come on, Roman, let's just talk!--"

It was as though he was on auto-control, rushing to the edge of the roof before turning around to climb down. My heart beat hard in my chest as I nearly lunged out of my window, hoping to reach him in time. "Hey, where are you going?!" 

I didn't make it-- Roman had already managed to land on the grass beneath him, his long limbs an apparent advantage, and he was now storming down my lawn towards his car. 

"Roman!" I yelled, crouching down on the edge of my roof; this was definitely not looking good. My mind kept racing as I gave up trying to catch up to him, burying my face in my hands. 

I was screwed. I was so screwed. 

(a/n: check out part 1, part 2, and part 3 if you haven't!! thank you for reading, more to come!!<33)

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hey there! Hope you’re having a wonderful day!

Could I request a classic Grumpy and Sunshine duo? lol

Just picture Donna being her usual grumpy and mean self while reader tries to lighten her mood.

Maybe Donna acts like she doesn’t appreciate the reader being clingy, but deep down, she secretly loves it.

But One day, reader decides to playfully distance themselves to tease Donna, only to realize it makes Donna really upset. Even though Donna is reluctant to admit it, she ends up begging the reader to stop ignoring her.

Thanks a bunch!

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

You were the Sun, she was the Moon

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, maybe a bit of angst

Word count: 8,787

Summary: She's like darkness, you're like light...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Good morning…” you hummed as you turned on the light, the only thing you could do to enlighten that dark bedroom. “Donna, Donna…”

A grumpy growl came from the brunette as she tried to fight your always effusive morning kisses.

“No…” she sighed, turning around in a childish way, moving away from you.

You rolled your eyes but you weren't going to give up so easily. A new day for you was always a reason for joy and… Well, everything for you was a reason to be happy, to adorn your face with an eternal smile.

“No? Come on honey, it's time to get up,” you hummed again, pushing the lady with more effusivity, making her growls more intense. “It's a new day.”

“I see,” Donna hissed, slowly getting up, unable to resist your insistence. “(Y/N)…”

“Mm, you look so pretty when you have that grumpy face,” you joked, stealing a kiss on her lips that caught her by surprise.

The lady looked at you with a frown while you, teasingly pinching her cheek, pulled back the sheets.

“Hey, wait…” she whispered, trying to cover herself again, with a sleepy voice. “Are you in a hurry?”

“Yes, a new day is waiting for us, and we have to take advantage of it,” you said with that same smile, stretching in an exaggerated way.

Lady Beneviento shook her head, with the seriousness not wanting to leave her face. With a tired sigh, she stretched her hand towards the small clock on the bedside table, squinting her sleepy eye.

“Gods, (Y/N), it's seven in the morning,” she said with a tired, defeated tone. “Why?”

“Mm, well, the earlier we get up, the earlier we have breakfast, the earlier you get to work on your dolls and the earlier you finish. That way we can spend more time together, isn't that great?” you said, searching through the closet for the appropriate clothes for that day and throwing the lady's black dress on the bed.

“Great… It's not exactly the word I was thinking of, tesoro…” she whispered, shaking her head and getting up from the bed listlessly.

“Come on, don't be grumpy,” you said in a petulant tone, approaching the lady and hanging on her neck while tilting your head. “You're quite a Lord…” you joked near her lips, kissing them slowly while she sighed again, reluctantly returning the kiss.

“I'm not grumpy,” she said with a tone and expression that obviously agreed with you, as always.

With an amused laugh you winked at her, moving away, something you certainly didn't want to do.

“Hey, you look gorgeous with your hair down, have I ever told you that?” you commented with flushed cheeks, while you slightly adjusted the sheets.

The woman rolled her eye, sighing unpleasantly.

“I think about forty times…” she murmured, finally sketching a brief smile, helping you to place the pillows. “Do we really need to get up?”

“I'm sure Angie is already up,” you said, smoothing the bed, removing even the smallest wrinkle.

“Angie doesn't sleep,” Donna said, looking at you with her always inquisitive and almost distrustful face.

You shrugged, shaking your hands. You never lost your smile.

“Can you imagine what life would be like if we didn't sleep?” you asked, looking at the ceiling so the inventive part of your head would start working. “We could do more things during the day.”

“How funny…” the brunette sighed, looking away from you and grabbing her dress.

“Isn't it?” you said, nodding enthusiastically.

The answer was another sigh accompanied by a gesture of denial. The lady turned around, walking towards the door.

“I'm going to take a shower,” she murmured, an opportunity that you took to grab your clothes and run to her side.

“I'm going with you,” you said with a radiant smile, getting the corners of her mouth to bend slightly upwards with your tender words and your insistence, a sweet smile was gracing her face.

“Va bene…”

Given the place where you lived, that sinister village, surely what was expected of a young girl like you was that bitterness was always present on your face.

Of course, it wasn’t like that.

Unlike most villagers, you had been born with the gift of optimism, of joy. You were always smiling, always seeing the good side of things. You were incapable of getting angry, of feeling sorrow, rage, regret... Your life was a gift and you knew it.

It was as if you had stolen all the happiness from the place, as if the happiness of all its inhabitants had passed to you by a spell or a whim of the Black Gods.

That different, irreverent and cheerful attitude never gave you the opportunity to improve your life. You were never special for being that way.

One day, in the middle of one of your walks, you stumbled across the waterfall mansion, the Beneviento House.

You were happy, cheerful and optimistic, but you weren't stupid. You knew who lived there, what happened to the poor wretches who dared to walk there. Fortunately, your natural gift helped you not to end your life among hallucinations and screams of pain.

The owner of that mansion, the Lord, servant of Mother Miranda, the lady in black, Donna Beneviento, was a dangerous, sick, disturbed woman...

Nothing you had heard about her was good but, luckily, that day she didn't seem to be in a bad mood. Maybe she was or maybe it was due your bright smile and your funny excuses about how you got there, how your hand slipped on the elevator button.

She saw something in you, something that caught her attention. Maybe it was your smile, your joy for life, you weren't sure, but you knew that your hand would slip on that button more times, and that you wanted to do it.

Love was something almost impossible in a place like that, with a woman like her. But, as your philosophy said: impossible is nothing.

Of course, you also decided to give yourself a chance, to give yourself the chance to discover what it was like to really love, to love her. Kisses, caresses, words... Everything led, over time, to your hand to no longer rest on the elevator button and starting to touch her body every night.

Donna was... Strange. She definitely had problems that you tried to mitigate with some success. She was a... Well, dark, gloomy woman.

Her terrible childhood, her years of loneliness had overshadowed the character of a fairly healthy person when it came to socialization.

Always serious, whispering, with a cold look, with a hoarse but soft voice at the same time, that was Donna Beneviento. Not even Angie's different attitude was an excuse for the lady to put a smile on her beautiful face from time to time.

You two just did honor to the symbol of her family: the moon, and the sun.

Maybe you exaggerated. Yes, you saw her smile, yes, she kissed you, she told you that she loved you, that she couldn't live without you, she cried when she thought she was losing you.

She was emotional and affectionate but... She didn't show it very often, as if something inside her stopped that impulse to feel comfortable with another person, as if something in her mind forced her to appear serious so you wouldn't dare to break her heart.

Maybe it wasn't that big of a deal. It could simply be the contrast between your attitude and hers. Maybe Donna wasn't the grumpy and unspoken woman. Maybe the odd one of that curious couple was you.

If so, you would be the odd one, and she would be just a normal person. You didn't want to fool yourself. You knew that wasn't the case at all.

Still, hanging on her neck, sitting on her lap while she made dolls, bathing her skin in kisses, her ears in sweet words... Well, that was your way of being and you didn't think it would change, no matter how much Donna complained about "how clingy you were."

She loved you. She loved you more than life itself. It was just circumstances, or her natural way of being that forced her to behave as if those kisses didn't matter to her, to pretend to look upset when you didn't leave her alone.

You didn't have to think about it too much, since, very often, her protests were accompanied by a tender smile, one that you didn't know if she wanted to hide. Of course, she didn't manage it.

There were times, like the shower that morning, when her mood allowed her certain liberties, like hugging you affectionately under the hot water. Without speaking, but saying it all with her caresses, with her kisses on your hair.

“Mm,” you murmured, moving in place, with a natural smile on your face due to her silent displays of affection, to that tacit promise of always being with you, of you always being with her. “Donna…”

She laughed briefly, and, as if the mere fact of hearing you speak was a kind of spark that reactivated her normal behavior, she moved away from you, leaving the shower after a quick kiss on your shoulder.

“Hey… Come back here,” you protested, pretending to pout, gesturing with your hand. She looked at you and shook her head, covering herself with a towel.

“Weren't you in such a hurry?” she joked with her eyebrow raised, in a petulant tone.

You snorted amused, turning off the shower tap and doing the same, pretending to shiver.

-Yes, well… - you whispered, a little confused by her intelligent response, by that grumpy tone again. She certainly didn't like getting up early. -What would you like for breakfast, honey?

“Mm? Coffee,” she said dryly, combing her hair while looking at herself in the mirror, sighing sadly as she did every time she saw her reflection, the defect in her face that tormented her so much.

You, realizing that detail, approached slowly, hugging her from behind with a tender smile. She moved her hand towards yours, but didn't look away from her reflection, shaking her head.

“You're beautiful, Donna,” you whispered in a sweet voice, looking at your own refection. “Look, I suit you,” you joked.

Her face relaxed and that smile you adored accompanied yours in the mirror. Well, at least that time it had been simple.

“Could you leave me alone for a moment?” the lady asked in a kind but somewhat broken tone. Surely if you saw the tear forming in her eye, you would stay until Donna calmed down, but that overwhelmed her, even if you managed to cheer her up.

“Okay,” you said with a tired sigh, kissing her back and slowly moving away. “I'm going to make you a breakfast that will blow your mind, my love.”

She simply nodded, without looking at you, lowering her face to the sink, breathing deeply to try to calm herself down. As much as it hurt you to see her like that, you couldn't do anything. The problems in her mind weren't fixed with smiles, unfortunately.

Preparing breakfast, setting the table, making sure everything was perfect... That was a routine you loved. You always made great efforts to make everything shine in the same way as your smile, so those dry words from the lady in black would be sweetened with the love you always showed.

A silent breakfast, a few unimportant phrases about the weather, about Angie, about your friends… It was always you who spoke. Donna always just listened to you, or pretended to. She wasn't very good at pretending tough.

Your joy always remained strong, your desire to live, to be happy, was not intimidated by the grumpy behavior of the lady, by her always cold and stoic expression.

No, nothing, nor anyone could ever change you but… Could she change? Sometimes you wished it with all your soul, sometimes you dreamed of the lady in black telling you that she really loved how you were, that she love an attitude so different from hers.

But that day never came, that full smile never reached your gaze. Sometimes you seemed nothing but a nuisance to her, but it didn't make sense for that to be the case. Why would someone like her, a powerful Lord, put up with someone she couldn't stand? Why live with a nuisance?

There were two possible answers: It could be loneliness, it could be that fear of the woman in black of not being left alone again, settling for the first stupid woman who didn't run away when she saw her face without the veil.

Maybe she just wanted company, even if she couldn't stand you.

Another option, the one you told yourself was the right one, would be that Donna truly loved you, that she cared for you, that your senseless encouragement lifted her spirit, that your joy made her see things in color, and not with a black and white filter.

Once again, it was impossible to know, to read the doll maker's mind and finally find that longed-for answer so your mind, with the passage of time, wouldn't start making painful assumptions.

“I got you!” you said triumphantly, finding the Angie doll under a sofa.

The afternoons could be many ways, but normally, because your power of persuasion to take a walk with Donna was at its weakest point, they were fun times with the living doll.

Okay, maybe not even Angie could match your level of cheerfulness and optimism, but at least she wasn't the grumpy mess her owner was. Angie was irreverent, shameless, not afraid to speak her mind at any given moment. You wondered if she was real part of Donna’s mind, or a lost virtue that the lady could never get back.

“You're fast, silly,” Angie whispered, crawling comically under the couch. “I think this is a tie.”

“Tie?” you asked, hands on hips. “As far as I know I've found you seven times this week.”

“Oh, yeah, but... Do you remember when you got here?” the doll joked, pointing at you. “I went two months without losing.”

“That was cheating, I didn't know the house that well,” you said, pushing the puppet playfully, making her grunt in a way suspiciously similar to her owner, something that made you look at the clock and sigh. “Oh, it's tea time.”

“What tea?” Angie asked, tilting her head.

“Donna's tea,” you said, with an anxious smile, walking towards the elevator.

“Hey, leave Donna alone! You know she doesn't like you disturbing her when she's making my friends,” the doll said, following you down the hall.

You nodded amused, rolling your eyes.

“Yes, but she always finishes the tea I make for her,” you said in your defense, moving the elevator bars.

“I guess that way she can stop hearing your voice…” the doll mocked, making you frown, but, when you wanted to protest, the elevator was already going down to the basement.

Ignoring the doll's potentially-hurtful words, you prepared the tea while humming, wanting, as always, to give the brunette an awkward cuddle session. You wondered how she would react that day…

“Donna,” you sang, entering the workshop without knocking on the door, startling the lady, who groaned like every time you woke her up at early hours.

“Tesoro, I've told you a thousand times that you must…” she whispered in a hoarse voice, with labored breathing.

“Yes… I must knock on the door, I know,” you said, dragging out the words and hugging your lady from behind, leaving the tea on the table and leaning on her shoulder. “Mm, I love when you're focused…”

“(Y/N), is there any moment of my life that you don't like?” she asked with a serious face, not looking at you, working on a sinister porcelain doll.

“Let me think… No,” you said amused, kissing her cheek repeatedly, passing by her nose, briefly by her mouth…

At first the lady didn't protest against that rain of kisses but, after a moment in which it seemed that you didn't want to stop, she coughed, moving her face away from your lips.

“Ugh, lasciami…” she whispered annoyed, gesturing with her hand as if she were pushing away an insect that was flying around her.

You laughed, shaking your head and sighing, planting a kiss on her cheek, well, one that contained several more, making the sound in an exaggerated way, preventing her from running away from you by holding her by the shoulders.

“Mmmm, gorgeous…” you said, with a last loud kiss, an unpleasantly cheesy one.

Donna growled, passing a hand over her wet cheek and lips and shaking her head.

“Why are you that clingy?” she protested, her gaze fixed on the porcelain, with an annoyed expression.

You, ignoring her complaints as always, shrugged, sighing and settling yourself on her lap, so she groaned again, leaving the brush in a glass, knowing that, otherwise, her work would be ruined because of you.

“I made you some tea,” you said amused, moving one of your legs, swinging it as you made yourself comfortable in that position grabbing the lady by her shoulders to support yourself.

“I see that,” she whispered, taking the cup. “I didn't ask you for it.”

“No, but you never do it,” you said amused, turning to play with her black hair, making her protest again. “After all, you drink it, so I guess you want it.”

Donna shook her head, letting out the air slowly, surrendering to your excessive affection.

“Okay, whatever,” she said nervously, with a darker look.

“Have you seen how perfectly I've made that slice of lemon?” you said amused, pointing to the inside of the cup. Donna looked at the same place with a frown and then at you.

“What's wrong with the lemon?” she asked impatiently, moving due to the apparent discomfort of your body on her lap. “Get down…”

“No,” you said, ignoring that abrupt request. “I mean it's a perfect circumference, don't you think?” you joked, with an expectant look.

“(Y/N), don't you have anything better to do than distract me?” Donna asked, fed up with your comments, gently pushing you off her lap.

You snorted and your smile relaxed for the first time in months

“I, I really don't…” you sighed with a slightly different tone, which led the lady in black, now with the brush in her hand again, to look at you slowly.

“Weren't you playing with Angie?” she said, dipping the brush in paint and picking up the porcelain head.

For a moment you thought that your boredom would be a concern for her, but it wasn't. Maybe that's why you felt less like smiling.

“Yes, but…” you murmured, scratching the back of your neck.

“Why don't you go for a walk with your friends?” she suggested, without looking at you again, giving more importance to that doll than to you.

“Mm, yes, perhaps, perhaps I will,” you said, her smile returning little by little. “I'm sorry if I disturbed you, Donna.”

With a soft kiss on her lips, one she accepted along with a brief caress, you turned around, walking towards the workshop door.

“(Y/N),” the lady interrupted, making you turn around slowly. She looked at you and sighed, with a tender and tired smile. “Thank you for the tea.”

“You're welcome, my love,” you said with an affectionate tone, smiling back at her as you closed the doors.

Well, maybe some time with your village friends would clear your mind about those thoughts that were beginning to harass you, about those questions your subconscious was asking you, ones you didn't want to answer.

“Are you sick or something?” your best friend asked as you sat by the lake. You looked at her with a frown.

“Why do you say so?” you wanted to know, swinging your legs over a rock.

“You're not smiling,” she joked, giving you nudge. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course,” you said nodding, looking into the distance. Maybe she could help you with those strange thoughts… “Well…”

The girl looked at you, blinking in confusion.

“What's wrong, (Y/N)?” she asked kindly, with a slightly shaky voice. “Lady Beneviento isn't treating you well? Has she hurt you?” she whispered, looking around.

You groaned at that insinuation, at having everyone worried about your well-being when it wasn't necessary.

“What? Of course she hasn’t. Donna would never hurt me, Olivia,” you said with a slightly brusque tone.

“Oh, okay, okay, I'm just asking,” your friend excused herself, making a reassuring gesture with her hands. “But something's worrying you…”

“Yes, well, it's just that…” you said, with a slightly shy tone, not knowing if you should really tell her your worries or if they were worries at all. “We are, we are so different…”

“Of course you are, she's a Lord,” Olivia said, with an amused laugh. “What a novelty.”

“No, I don't mean that, it's just…” you said, nervous, also looking everywhere. “Donna is always… She's always complaining about everything, it seems that my presence is annoying  to her.”

“I don't think it annoys her, (Y/N), I, I'm afraid that if it did, you wouldn't… You wouldn't be here,” the girl said, with a slightly scared tone.

“Okay, you're not helping me,” you protested, crossing your arms.

“You'll have to be a bit more specific, I don't know that woman and the little I know about her... It's not very... Flattering, let's say.”

“You're wrong, Donna is such a sweetheart, I'm sick of saying it,” you said in a serious, sincere tone. “Her problem is that... She, she doesn't seem to really like me. She always says that I'm annoying her, that I'm very clingy...”

“Oh...” your friend sighed, with a confused look.

“And I don't know if she really thinks that way or... If on the contrary, maybe, maybe she's just like that, you know? I don't know. I'm starting to think that she just loves me so she won't be alone.”

“Mm,” Olivia murmured thoughtfully. “I guess the best you can do is to clear up your doubts.”

“Oh, what a brilliant deduction,” you said with irony, spreading your arms in a comical way. “Yeah, thanks, but I don't know how.”

“Well… Maybe if you stop being so… You, you can check it out,” she murmured, making you turn your head quickly.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what they say: you don't realize what you have, until it's gone,” the young woman commented, looking at the sky. You nodded for her to continue. “Try leaving your affectionate and clingy side behind for a while, so you can see how she reacts.”

“Interesting,” you murmured, narrowing your eyes. “You mean to ignore Donna?”

“Yes, well… I'm sure that if she really loves you, she'll end up asking you to go back to the way you were, and if not… Well… If not…”

“No, don't say it, Donna loves me, I'm sure,” you said nervously, thinking about the risk of that test, the risk of it not going well.

“Then she'll have to prove it to you,” your friend said, with a haughty tone.

At least that conversation was useful to you.

At first that idea seemed silly, it went against your way of being, against the love you felt for the lady in black. Ignoring her could be dangerous, but it was true that you had never tried it either. You weren't capable, you just weren't capable.

As you walked back to the mansion, the idea was spinning around in your head, sounding better and better, even considering it funny. You trusted in the love that Donna said she felt for you but… The truth is, you were very anxious to check her reaction.

“Mm, Donna…” you purred in her ear as she read in bed, kissing her lips, her cheek, her neck…

She frowned, moving to get you to move away.

“I'm reading, tesoro, leave me alone,” she whispered in a voice that wasn't harsh, but somewhat stern.

“Well, you'll read tomorrow,” you whispered, insisting on your desire for nightly cuddles. Donna shook her head, letting you kiss her on the lips before placing a hand on your chest to stop you.

“(Y/N), I'm tired,” she growled, looking at you briefly and returning to her book.

You sighed, finally pulling away and shaking your head. Normally you would insist a little more, just enough to bring down the brunette's defenses and enjoy a night of passion but… The words, the advice of your friend echoed in your mind. It would be a good time to put your plan into action.

“Okay, good night,” you said quickly, covering yourself with the sheets, turning your back to her.

You could notice how the brunette put down her book. She was probably looking at you with a frown. You didn't know, but you hoped she was.

“Are you okay?” Donna asked, putting a hand on your shoulder.

You, with your eyes closed and a mischievous smile, nodded.

“Yes, I'm fine,” you said with your best dry and cold voice. “I just realized that I'm sleepy.”

“Oh, um, well, in that case…” she said, apparently confused, leaving the book on the bedside table and turning off the light. “We'd better sleep.”

“Yes,” you answered with the same coldness.

You noticed how the lady moved suddenly, surely alerted by that tone, but she didn't say anything, she just sighed, lying down next to you.

“Buonanotte”

Well, apparently your behavior unsettled the doll maker a little, but that strangeness and confusion weren't enough, besides, you didn't know if it was for better or worse, but... The truth is that it had been terribly funny for you.

The next day started like any other, or almost.

When you caressed the hand that grabbed your body from behind, you had to make an effort not to turn around and devour the lady with kisses like every morning, so as not to provoke those grunts of protest that you found adorable.

Biting your lip out of anger at not being able to act like always, you took her soft hand, slowly moving it away from your belly as you subtly got out of bed. Donna didn't wake up, so your plan could continue its course.

You showered, dressed, and walked to the kitchen. There was no sign of the brunette, she hadn't woken up.

Time passed and you whistled quietly in the kitchen as you ground the coffee beans. Yes, ignoring her was one thing, but neglecting her was something quite different, and after all, you loved making her breakfast, the only meal she allowed you to make.

“(Y/N)…” a hoarse voice interrupted your cheerful whistles. A comical figure, still dressed in her nightgown appeared at the door, Donna.

The lady, still sleepy, rubbed her eye, looking at you in confusion. You smiled wickedly to yourself as she yawned loudly, smiling tenderly, as usual.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” you said in a soft voice as she approached with a frown, fixing her messy hair from just waking up.

You quickly gave her a kiss on the lips, one that she didn't return. She seemed confused, good…

“You… You didn't wake me up,” the sleepy lady said with a voice broken by tiredness, trying to focus her vision on you.

“Of course I didn’t,” you said casually. “You told me you didn't like it so…”

“I don't like it,” she said quickly, frowning more. “I just, I just thought it was… Strange.”

“I didn't want to wake you up you, my love,” you said affectionately, running a hand over her face. “Look, I made some orange juice, do you fancy it?”

“Mm, yes, yes, I…” Donna stammered, blinking several times, as if something didn't fit, as if she suspected that your behavior had a reason. You hoped it wasn't like that. “Oh, you, you took a shower…”

You looked at yourself and nodded amused, putting the ground coffee in the old coffee maker and turning on the stove.

“Yeah, I take showers every day, honey,” you joked, shaking your head, pretending she was talking nonsense.

“You didn't wait for me, I thought you liked showering with me,” she commented, putting a hand on your shoulder, watching you toast some slices of bread.

“I couldn't wait for you to get up, Donna,” you said with a soft tone, but a mischievous look. “Did you want me to take a shower with you, my love?” you said with a fake pout, with a condescending voice that she, luckily, didn't know how to interpret. “I thought you liked to do it alone.”

“I like doing it alone,” she said, frowning again, stepping back proudly. “I just found it strange.”

“Mm,” you murmured with disinterest, looking away from her. “Go to take a shower, my love, I'll set the table.”

Donna looked at you strangely again, but nodded slowly, scratching her head and walking towards the door, giving you one last disoriented look.

“Um… Okay…” she whispered, finally disappearing from your presence.

You sighed in relief. Yes, it was funny to see Lady Beneviento confused, but your inner self screamed for you to throw yourself into her arms to don’t stop kissing her like every morning, telling her how much you loved her.

You would have to be strong if you wanted the strategy to work.

Donna went up to the dining room, where you were already waiting for her, having breakfast. Her black dress was already on her body and her silky hair was up in its usual updo, but her gaze was a little more serious than usual.

Without saying a word, well, as always, she sat down in front of you, moving her chair closer to the table and lifting her gaze briefly, as if she were analyzing yours.

You smiled innocently, taking a sip of your coffee.

Time passed slowly, and the lady didn't move, she didn't do anything, she didn't pour herself coffee, she didn't spread toast in oil, she simply looked at you nervously, you knew perfectly well why.

“Are you okay, my love? Aren't you hungry?” you asked, pretending a worried face.

She blinked, snapping out of her thoughts and shaking her head.

“Yes, I... I was, I was waiting,” she stammered, without taking her eye off you.

“Waiting?” you asked amused, pouring some sugar on you cup. “What are you waiting for, darling?”

“Um, well… Aren’t..? Aren't you going to do the usual?” she asked in a rougher tone, with an unpleasant gesture, crossing her arms.

“Mm? What do you mean?” you asked, holding back your laughter, keeping your composure.

 She groaned, looking away again.

“You know, that nonsense of ‘preparing my morning coffee with love and lots of kisses so I can have a good day’,” Donna said in a mocking, almost unpleasant tone.

You opened your eyes wide, pretending to realize it and shook your head soon after.

“Oh, but that's just cheesy to you, isn't it?” you asked in a calm tone, picking up another piece of toast. “I thought you hated it.”

“I, I…” the doll maker stammered, changing her confused face to a proud one, which indicated to you that your strategy was paying off from the first moment. “I hate it, tesoro.”

“Really? I can do it for you if you want,” you joked, taking her cup of coffee, which she suddenly snatched from you, shaking her head effusively.

“No, no, I've already told you that I hate it,” she said without looking at you, serving herself the coffee.

“Sure, sure,” you sighed, biting your lip at her nervous attitude. “Do you want some juice?”

You didn't know if she was really disoriented, if she really missed your sentimentality, but it was still too early to tell. Deciphering her behavior was always a task worthy of research.

The rest of the day didn't give you many more opportunities to test her patience and your feelings, until the afternoon came.

The afternoon was the moment when you always went down to the workshop with a cup of tea in your hand, ready to cuddle your girlfriend as much as you could, to hug her, sit on her lap and caress and kiss her while she worked.

It was tempting, Donna was tempting. Her stoic pose, her shy caresses, her annoyed sighs that betrayed a certain comfort… Of course, that was the hardest part for you. Not even a day had passed and you were already crazy for her kisses, for showing her your love. Again, you would have to be stronger.

“Ha, you lost!” Angie mocked, pointing at you while you clumsily hid behind a piece of furniture.

You didn't really feel like playing hide and seek that day, but if you didn't, you knew Angie would destroy your ears with her protests.

“You found me, again,” you said, dusting yourself off and looking at the clock, sighing. It was time, time for your way to the basement, for a well-deserved ration of annoying kisses and hugs to the brunette.

That day you wouldn't go down.

“Loser, silly loser…” Angie mocked, humming childishly and walking towards the sofa. “I plan to beat you every time.”

“Really?” you said amused, arching an eyebrow. “We'll have to see about that…” you whispered with a challenging look. “Come on, it's your turn.”

“What?” the doll asked confused, also looking at the clock. “Do you want to keep playing?”

“Yeah, sure, why not?” you said nodding, with a fake smile.

Angie approached you with a slow step, looking you up and down.

“Aren't you going to go see my Donna?” she asked with a different tone, as if the puppet herself was confused.

“No,” you said, letting yourself fall on the sofa, picking up a book that was on the table. “I don't want to disturb her. I know she doesn't like it.”

“Um… Of course, she doesn't like it…” Angie murmured, making you frown. “You're very strange, silly, silly…”

“No, I’m not. I just want to be nice for once and let her work in peace, I know I'm very annoying,” you murmured, checking to your dismay that the book wasn't in your language. Great, you couldn't be distracted by it.

“Yes, you're a sticky pain, but…” Angie said, with a nervous voice and pose, lowering the book so she could look at your face.

You looked back at her, studying her gestures, and her words.

“But?” you asked curiously, with a more serious tone.

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” the doll said, getting off the couch and waving her hand, moving away from you.

“Okay…” you murmured with an amused smile. “Come, help me find a book I can read,” you said, clapping your hands and getting up.

So you had a fun time, reading that adventure book with Angie. You had almost forgotten that in the basement there was someone who hadn't had her tea…

A sudden sound alerted you. The elevator door suddenly opened and nervous heels quickly approached where you were. Donna appeared in the living room, breathing heavily, looking for something everywhere. That nervousness ended when her eye made contact with yours.

“Cazzo…” she hissed, sighing in relief. “(Y/N)…”

“Oh, hi, honey, are you okay?” you said, putting the book aside and walking towards the lady in black, who was rubbing her eye while shaking her head. “What's wrong, my love? Is it a crisis?”

“No, no,” she denied, sighing again and looking at you strangely. “You’ve scared me.”

“Have I scared you?” you asked amused, with your hands on your hips. “I haven't done anything, Donna.”

“Yes, that's it, I…” Donna said, interrupting your performance. “You, you haven't gone down to the workshop,” she said in a small voice, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“I didn't want to disturb you,” you said simply, with a tender smile.

“Oh, okay, I…” the lady in black stammered, with an exaggerated look of disinterest, nodding slowly.

“What's wrong, honey? Did you miss me?” you said with an amused look, pouting. Donna stood proudly, with a serious expression, shaking her head.

“No, of course I didn’t. It's been a while since I was this calm,” she said looking at her nails, her worried expression changing radically.

“I'm glad to know it,” you said, pretending that those words hadn't cruelly pierced your heart.

Hold on, (Y/N), hold on…

“Mm, I just found it strange… You didn't come to disturb me, I thought maybe… Maybe…” The pride in her words diminished little by little, closing her eye before finishing. “I thought you had left.”

“Where? You know that if I go somewhere I have the courtesy to let you know, Donna,” you said with a calm, soft and tender tone.

Again, you had to suppress the desire of your hands to cup her face, to caress her soft skin. It was much harder than you thought.

“Yes, that's why I thought, that, that maybe…” she stammered, darkening her gaze, avoiding yours. “Nevermind, it's, it's nonsense.”

“Okay,” you said, calmly. “Don't worry, my love, I'm not going anywhere, I was just reading.”

“What…? What were you reading?” the lady asked, with a strange expression, playing with her hands, as if she was terribly nervous about something.

You ignored those gestures, ones that only confirmed your small victories, and walked towards the sofa.

“Mm, this one,” you said, showing her the book. “It's quite entertaining.”

“I see,” Donna said with a slightly uncomfortable smile, coming a little closer, slowly, as if something had scared her. “Maybe, maybe you'd like me to… Read with you.”

“Do you want to read with me?” you asked with genuine confusion.

You certainly didn't expect her reaction to be that fast. It's true that you often read together, but Donna always ended up getting tired of your kisses and your nice words. It was very rare that she asked you to do it, you always did it first.

“Yes, well... It's been a long time since we did it,” the lady whispered with a smile that seemed almost pleading to you.

You shrugged, appealing to your strength. No, you couldn't fall yet.

“But Donna... You always complained that you couldn't read a paragraph with me by your side,” you said calmly.

The lady in black opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped at the last moment, nodding defeated.

“Besides, I'm sure you've read this book a thousand times. You're just going to get bored,” you commented, looking away and sighing listlessly, sitting back down on the couch.

“Certo, you’re, you’re right…” she murmured, sighing tiredly as you pretended to continue reading, watching the lady from the corner of your eye.

Donna shifted, sitting curiously beside you, as if she didn’t know what to do, what to say, or if she even wanted to do it either.

There was a tense moment of silence until, out of surprise, a soft hand placed your hair behind your ear, her hand.

“I got really scared,” Donna whispered, moving closer, taking your hand. You frowned, glancing at her briefly. “I thought you were gone, that you had abandoned me.”

“What nonsense, why would I want to leave?” you asked distractedly, without looking at her, something very complicated, but that you managed with less and less effort.

“I don't know but...” she whispered, taking the book away from your hands, so you pretended to grunt in protest.

“Donna, I was reading,” you said, subtly imitating her protests. You hoped it was subtle enough.

“I know, but... I... I want to love you so much...” she purred seductively, starting to kiss your neck, something that made you repress a pleasurable gasp. Of course, that attitude wasn’t very common in the doll maker. “…To thank you for being here, with me...”

“Mmm Donna,” you said, interrupting her increasingly ardent kisses just as she did, with a hand on her chest. “No, okay? I don't feel like it now.”

“Why? You always feel like it,” she protested, not in a cold tone, but in a melancholic, sad one. “Tesoro… Please… I want to make love to you…”

“I don’t feel like it, Donna, I’m tired,” you said, pleased by that sudden submission, amused, perhaps excessively, by the quick effect your strategy had.

Yes, seeing Donna begging for your company was pleasurable. It was too soon to give up, even though you were wishing for it.

“Ugh, get out…” you said abruptly, pushing the lady away, leaving her completely disoriented. “Don’t bother me, Donna.”

“What? Don’t bother you?” she asked, standing up abruptly, shaking her head, mouth agape. “Qual è il tuo problema?!”

“Excuse me? Donna, the language…” you scoffed, hiding your evil smile behind the book again. “Come on, don't be mad.”

“Don't be mad?” she asked, with a nervous laugh. “This is unbelievable…”

“Come on, what's wrong with you? Didn't you say you were sick of me being clingy?” you asked, pretending to be focused on the words that, obviously, you weren't reading.

“Yes, and I am, you're a pain, (Y/N),” Donna said with a hurtful tone that your heart quickly dodged, you knew she was just nervous.

“So what's wrong with you? Shouldn't you be relieved because I left you alone?” you asked with the same gloomy tone.

The lady laughed nervously again, running a hand through her hair, but relaxing immediately.

“Yes, I'm very happy to be able to breathe,” she said with a mocking tone, with a dark look.

“I see that,” you scoffed. “Shh, be quiet, I want to read.”

“Arrgh!” Donna growled, clenching her fists tightly on either side of her hips. “Have a good time!” she shrieked, walking quickly towards the hallway again.

“You too, my love!” you shouted in a tone devoid of annoyance, ignoring her shouts. “And don't be mad, you look very ugly when you are!”

“Vaffanculo!” she shrieked from the hallway with an angry growl.

“What does that mean?” you asked in a whisper to Angie, who looked at the scene in astonishment as if she were watching a tennis match.

“Do you really want to know?” the doll asked, in her usual mocking tone.

You laughed amused, turning a page and shaking your head.

“Mm, I don't think so,” you whispered, arching your eyebrows.

“Hey, silly girl, start talking,” Angie said, putting your book down again and climbing onto the couch.

“Mm?” you murmured, frowning.

“I know you're up to something, and I don't like it at all,” she hissed, pointing her finger at you, staring directly into your soul.

“Me? I'm not up to anything,” you said passively, looking at the hallway where Donna had gone, wondering if she had really gotten that angry and above all, why.

“Liar...” the puppet hissed. “Be very careful, silly girl, Angie is always watching.”

You smiled with an innocent look, returning to that book, or rather, to your thoughts.

Your strategy had been a complete success. The lady in black had been completely disoriented and confused by your change of attitude, and that was what you wanted. Her irrational rage only told you that you didn't have to worry, she loved you, but your incipient insecurities made you continue with that behavior for a few more days.

The lack of affection, hugs, caresses... Took its toll on you, but, determined to prove to yourself that she liked the clingy way you were, you wanted to pull the rope a bit further.

There were no romantic breakfasts or visits to the workshop, there were no cuddles, affection, kisses... There was nothing. The brunette's attitude was distant, as always, but with a touch of annoyance, anger.

Bearing that cold look was increasingly difficult. Not giving in to your impulses to go down and cuddle Donna was already unbearable. Reading no longer served as a distraction so, during one of those afternoons, you decided to leave the house for a walk in the woods.

While you walked, you meditated on your actions, you thought about Donna, about whether she was really suffering as much as she seemed.

You thought you were just being cruel, that you were torturing her, but when you thought about previous weeks, about her subtle contempt, about her apathy, your desire to continue with that reprimand didn’t diminish.

You were never vengeful, you never let yourself be carried away by that dark side and you began to discover why. It was addictive, dangerously addictive.

The sun shone less intensely as you threw stones off the cliff. The afternoon had passed quickly. Thinking, planning, meditating... That made you completely forget about the time. At least the temptation to run into her arms had gone unnoticed by you.

You opened the door of the mansion and walked slowly. The silence of that place was always disturbing but... What you heard was even more so.

An agonizing sob reached your ears, making you stop in your tracks. Your legs trembled when you recognized it.

“Donna, Donna…” Angie's voice sounded calm, too calm. “Donna, no…”

“She's gone! Porca puttana! She's gone!” Donna screamed, making you freeze in fear.

After that furious scream, loud noises accompanied by a furious panting ran through the old walls.

“Donna, stop breaking things!” Angie yelled after another noise which revealed that something fragile had broken into a thousand pieces.

You shook your head with a hand on your mouth in shock. It had been a long time since the lady lost her mind like that, a long time. You couldn't help but think it was your fault.

“Donna, you cut yourself, you silly, silly Donna!” Angie shrieked, surely trying to control her owner's rage.

You took a breath and began to walk slowly, with shaky legs.

Your little reading corner was a mess. The table was upside down on the floor, the cups and books that were always there were scattered on the floor, broken in a thousand pieces.

Donna was in a corner, her back against the wall and her head buried in her knees, crying inconsolably. You approached slowly, not wanting to draw her attention.

“È colpa mia…” the doll maker sobbed, with a muffled moan. “She left because of me.”

Angie shook her head as she hugged her tenderly, trying to get her to come back to her senses.

Suddenly, the puppet turned her head and looked at you, gasping in surprise.

“Oh, you silly, silly!” she shouted euphorically, pointing at you as she jumped up and down on the wood. “Look, Donna, look, it's the silly, silly girl,” she insisted, pulling the brunette's hand, who slowly looked up.

“Donna, my love…” you sighed, with a sad, regretful look.

“(Y/N)…” she whispered, looking at you, blinking quickly and breathing nervously. “(Y/N)!” she shrieked, crawling on the floor and grabbing your legs in a pathetic way, which made you step back. “Don't leave! Don't abandon me!”

“What? Oh, please, my love… Re-relax, I haven't gone anywhere, I was walking through the woods,” you said nervously, bending down to take her away from that pitiful hug, taking her hands and helping her sit on the couch “Donna, my love, react, come to your senses, my precious Donna…”

“You wanted to leave… You're gone,” she stammered, blinking erratically, shaking her head, unable to stop crying.

Your heart broke just like those tea cups, into a thousand pieces.

“Shhh, no, no darling, I'm not going to leave, I'm still, I'm still here with you…” you said, caressing her face, her hands, staining yourself with a red moisture that came from a wound, probably the cut Angie was talking about.

“Oh, wow, darling… you're bleeding,” you whispered worriedly, repressing your desire to cry. “Wait a minute, I'm going, I'm going to heal you. Angie, please, keep an eye on her.”

“Aye!” the doll shouted, taking your place on the couch.

There were no words. You simply healed that horrible wound in silence while the brunette sobbed more and more weakly, ashamed of her madness, unable to look at you.

“Donna, my love,” you whispered while you healed her, looking at her out of the corner of your eye. “How could you think that I had abandoned you? There's no place I'm better off than with you…”

“It doesn't seem like it,” she murmured, wiping away a tear, looking away, fighting back her sobs. “You don't want to be with me.”

“Oh, wow, so now you dedicate yourself to guessing people's feelings, huh?” you joked with a tender, amused smile. “Then change your job because you're not doing it well…”

“Stop with the stupid jokes, you know perfectly well why I'm saying this,” the lady snapped, removing her injured hand from yours.

You snorted, gripping it tighter again.

“Stay still, will you? I have to heal this,” you murmured, shaking your head. “Donna…” you growled when she struggled against your grip again.

“Leave me alone, stop pretending you love me,” she protested. “If you don't want to be here with me, tell me.”

“You're stubborn, huh?” you said, sighing, with a colder look. “Stop talking nonsense.”

“It's not nonsense!” Donna shrieked, making you back off. “You've shown me this last week. You you don't love me anymore, you don't kiss me. You’re, you're not with me when I work on my dolls. It seems as if I disgust you…”

“I'm not disgusted by you,” you said in a serious, almost brusque tone. “I love you with all my soul.”

“Do you? Then why don't you show it to me anymore?” she asked furiously again.

It was time to be honest.

“I could ask you the same thing, Donna,” you whispered, shaking your head, passing a bandage over her injured hand. “I've always, always tried to give you all my love but you… You seemed to reject it. You always complained about me being too clingy, you hated it, do you know how it made me feel?”

“I don't hate it,” she murmured, with a different tone, with a dark but tender look. “I don't hate it… I don't hate it!”

You nodded nervously.

“I love your kisses, your hugs! I love when you come to see me, when you sit on my lap and say nice things to me! I love your smile, your joy! I love that joy I don't have and can only see in you!” she shouted nervously, confessing the truth you wanted to hear, one you ignored, one for which you caused all that suffering in poor Donna.

“Do you…?” you asked a bit surprised, relaxing Donna with your caresses on her cheek while she shook her head. “Do you...? Do you really the way I am?”

“Yes, I love the way you are, I, I like you being clingy. I love when you don't let me breathe, when you remind me that you love me... you always try to cheer me up… I love you, I want that light that I'm unable to transmit, I want the light in your eyes, the love you give me, the love I can't live without…” she said not looking at you, pressing her lips together to suppress her shame at those words, words that moved you.

“Wow, that's very sweet, Donna,” you said, smiling, bringing her face closer to yours to kiss her lips softly, lovingly, like you had wanted to do for so long. “Forgive me, I was the one who acted that way because… Because I thought it really annoyed you and…”

“You've never annoyed me,” she said, interrupting you. “If I've behaved like an idiot it's because… Because… I'm, I'm scared.”

“You're scared…” you repeated in a soft whisper.

She nodded.

“I'm afraid of letting myself be carried away by your addictive love and that, that one day you won't... won't be by my side,” she said with a sad tone, taking your other hand. “I know, I know I don't... I don't know how to love the same way you do, I know I'm a grumpy fool but it's just that... I've never known what love is until... Until I met you.”

“I understand, darling,” you said with an understanding tone, kissing her again. “Relax, it's all over now... I'll give you all those overwhelming affections that I now know you love...”

Donna smiled at your mischievous caresses, laughing at last, nervous and shy, lighting you up with the joy on her face, one that soon vanished, when the lady grabbed your hands tightly with a pleading look.

“Per favore, (Y/N), I’m begging you. Don’t do this to me again... Don't ignore me ever again, please...”

[olsenmyolsen]

Hey!!! So im finally gonna send a request from that prompt list lol.

May i please request. absentmindedly playing with their hair at all times

I dont mind either elizabeth or wanda, but can I ask that yn has a buzz cut on her sides back back of her head. And as she just had it redone yn makes a comment about her feeling like a sheared sheep lol

Just got my hair redone and I always say that after touching the back. I just wish I had someone who would stroke my hair also;_; id melt if wanda/elizabeth did.

If that's not too much trouble ;_; please and thank you

A Sheared Sheep

maroon master list . dark master list . request marvel master list . short n’ sweet master list

No Powers AU - (Female Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Summary: You got a haircut without telling your girlfriend, Wanda Maximoff.

Word Count: 1.3K

Content: Girlfriend Wanda Maximoff, Meet-Cute, Baking, Haircuts, Fluff

You had met Wanda Maximoff only a few months prior. It was a classic meet-cute moment.

A lapse in thinking had led your iced latte to go from your hand to her shirt. An exchange of apologies, small talk, quick glances, some light flirting, and a dinner to make up for it all led to the two of you dating.

It's been bliss and wonderful. You two have only grown stronger and more comfortable. Sharing details about your lives and what you want for the future.

Wanda was very upfront in talking about kids, and she said she didn't care how it happened but that this was something she wanted. That made you feel better when you pointed out through some laughter that you didn't have the parts to help her in the department.

Wanda shook her head and hugged you tightly before running her fingers through your long hair.

An action that always made you smile.

And yeah, sure, talking about kids a few months into a relationship might seem forward, but within the last year, Wanda had recently called it off with her fiancé. Plus, she was older than you. Not significantly, but enough to where you needed another hand to count the years separating you two.

Anyways, like I was saying.

What you and Wanda have is clearly special. And you know she loves you for you. Not a whole lot could change that as of right now.

Well, that's what you keep telling yourself as you close your eyes in the hairdresser's chair. "We really don't have to do it Y/n." Your favorite hairdresser and good friend Natasha pointed out for the hundredth time.

You see, every once in a while, once your hair grows past the point of driving you crazy, you usually just buzz it. Well, at least most of it. Normally, Natasha styles it or just trims one side. Today, the two of you were talking about buzzing the sides and back of your head, but then Wanda popped into your mind and stopped everything.

No, she didn't telepathically communicate with you. As cool as that sounds.

No, the thought of her popped into your mind.

She has only ever known you with your long hair. Would she even like you if you didn't look like... like you?

You shook your head and told yourself that, of course, she would still like you. Hell, she loves you!

Thus, the thought cycle repeats.

"Y/n, why don't you just tell her you want to get it done?" Natasha asks as she watches you look over yourself in the mirror. "Because I want it to be a surprise." You answer back with conviction. "Okay, so then why aren't we doing it?" Natasha asks another question, making you close your mouth.

You sigh.

And after a few moments, you tell Natasha to start cutting.

As your hair fell to the tile floor, your stomach began doing flips and tangling itself up, waiting to be in front of Wanda.

"Wanda?" You called out into her condo as you closed the front door behind you. "I'm in the kitchen!" Wanda yelled. You smiled at her voice and kicked off your shoes by the front door before making your way through her space.

It was just as soft and cozy as she was.

The smell of cinnamon and apple pie filled your nose as you walked closer and closer to her green-tiled kitchen. That backsplash was the first thing she did to make this place her own.

You loved the color.

"Smells amazing!" You said as you appeared around the corner of the kitchen as Wanda pulled out a second pie and set it on a stand to cool.

Wanda briefly glanced your way with a big smile. "Thank you!" She turned back and turned off the oven as she started moving around to put some dirty dishes into the sink. "I made two pies. One for us and the other for Agatha. I think she and Ralph are having some trouble, so I thought I would bake her a pie, too." You leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen with a warm smile, watching as your girlfriend.

She really was beautiful inside and out.

"It took me forever to find the specific brand of apples I wanted. You know, I didn't want it to be too sweet or sour, and then-" Wanda shook her head after wiping her counter down. She let go of the rag and chuckled. "Sorry." She glanced towards you again.

Still not noticing the WestView Witches baseball cap you're wearing to cover up your haircut.

"I'm rambling." Wanda brushes her apron and quickly unties it before fast walking to you with a spring in her step. She quickly kisses your lips and pulls away as she hangs up the apron. "How was your day?!" She looks towards you, and then that's when you see her notice in her eyes. Her mouth goes from a smile to a shocked look. She takes a step back and looks over your face before she reaches out and gently takes your chin, moving your face from side to side. "Y/n- I- when-" She can't form a sentence as she lifts her hand to the baseball cap. "Can I?" She asks after a beat.

You nod, afraid saying anything will spook her.

Slowly, Wanda grabs the end of the cap and lifts it off your head. You hear her breath hitch as she looks over your very short hair. Her fingers slowly run through your hair before she brings them down along the backside of your skull, where the buzz is prominent, making you shiver slightly at the contact of her nails brushing you.

Wanda notices as her eyes move to meet yours. "Does that hurt?" She asks carefully. You laugh through your nose and shake your head. "It feels good. Really great, actually." You say in the same tone as her. Wanda nods, glad that she isn't hurting you.

She brings her hand back up and runs through it again with more pressure. "How does that feel?" Wanda asks.

"Good. Touching the back is the best part." You say before making a joke. "I feel like sheared sheep." Wanda can't help but smile and laugh quietly before she removes her hand and brings it down to yours. Holding you. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise." You say, looking to Wanda, who looks to you, waiting for more. "It's just something I've always done. Do you hate it?" You then question, and just as quick as you ask, Wanda shakes her head, giving you an answer. "I don't hate it. I just wish I would've known." She squeezes your hand.

You nod.

After a few seconds, Wanda grips your hand. "How about while we let the pies cool, we can go sit and relax," Wanda says, making you nod and following her to the living room, sitting next to her on the couch in your usual spots.

Wanda flips through some channels before coming across a marathon of her favorite sitcom.

The two of you relax and cuddle into one another. Letting the surprise of your haircut fall into the back of everyone's mind.

After an episode of the show, you feel Wanda's hand move from scratching your back to up your neck and through the back of your head, stroking your buzz. You smile and let out a satisfied sigh that makes Wanda look over at you with her own smile. "I like it." She states making you feel warm and happy with your choice.

You turn to her. "I'm glad." Wanda leans into you and kisses you as her fingers scratch your head. "My little sheep." She jokes as you two part, making you roll your eyes. Playfully.

All in all, that joke wasn't as bad as when you brought Agatha her pie, and she turned to Wanda and said: "So how many Y/n's do you have to count in your sleep to you fall asleep?"

dividers by @/benkeibear

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Cupid doesn’t gamble

Summary: Leon, a mafia boss whose empire dominates all casinos on the west coast, meets a young girl amidst a game of poker. What would happen if he threw all his chips and gambled his love for you?

Warning: Mafia!Boss!Leon x Female!Reader. Eventual smut (I know y’all want this so bad). Slow burn. Romantic. Leon is a gentleman. Characters are 21+ (makes sense for casinos). Researched topics. Mentions of violence. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 6,620

A/N: So, I’d like to start off with saying that being in the Mafia is not okay. Al Capone was NOT a good guy. But, this is fiction. None of this is real so before I get myself canceled (pls don’t) trust that I did my research. I thought of Salvatore by LDR writing this lol.

[II] [III]

“The summer's wild and I've been waiting for you all this time I adore you, can't you see, you're meant for me. Summer's hot but I've been cold without you, I was so wrong not to doubt your Medellin, tangerine dreams,” - Salvatore, Lana Del Rey

Poker isn’t just a game of gambling and betting your money away. It’s intimate and personal, in order to win you must read your opponent. Strip each other bare until the other shows a sign of vulnerability, only then will you find a loophole and win.

But nobody seems to understand the arts of chips and card decks. To be given an awful hand and turning the game to your favor is powerful and uplifting. There is great danger with gambling but there are also great rewards.

Leon was a famous man, known for establishing the most successful casinos of, dare I say, the nation. He’s a businessman, driven by the need to make a statement of himself. To hold power over people’s head with a flick of the wrist. He’s ambitious, cunning, but also respectful.

Coming from nothing but rags and the slum, he swore to his parents that he will earn everything he ever wanted in life. To provide for his family, to become one of the richest and notorious men of America. And he did.

He easily became a member of the mafia after being taken under the care of a kind man. When his parents died and he was shunned away by society, he never expected a man from a dangerous world to take him as a child and teach him to become the man that he is today.

And now here he was, engaging himself in a long hour of poker with a rookie player. You’ve never been keen on gambling your savings away, you deterred yourself from gaining the addiction. But, you did like to play every once in a while, especially since the casino you were in was quite lavish, courtesy of the man who built the casino in the first place.

You didn’t know anything about it, you didn’t even know that the man in front of you was the very own man who built his life step by step.

"You're good with your hands," he said in a rich and low tone as he stared at you from across the table.

“Thanks,” you muttered as you moved on forward with the game. You glanced at him, narrowing your eyes as you tried to guess what he was going to move with tonight.

A low, amused chuckle escaped his lips as he continued to watch you analyze him. He knew damn well you had no clue how to play, yet you were trying your best. It's what drew him to you.

He noticed you stealing glances his way as you thought of a plan. *Adorable.* He leaned back into his seat, eyeing you closely as he waited for you to make your next move.

"You're a bad bluffer," he pointed out with a smirk.

“And you’re a talker,” you quipped back with sass. You were silent for a moment before you decided to either go big or go home, “Raise,” you said to him.

Your eyes were glued to him, watching for his reaction. Was he going to fold or call? Either way, you believed you had a better hand than him.

"And you're cocky, too," he returned with a hint of humor in his voice. He raised an eyebrow slightly, surprised by your bold move. Even if you didn't know how to play, you had some guts.

He studies you for a moment, his eyes lingering on you before returning to his cards. After a moment of contemplating, he pushes a stack of chips forward, adding to the pot.

"Call. Let's see what you've got," he challenges you with a sly smile.

You turned your cards over, revealing a Diamond Queen and Clover King. You put them down and crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at him with a smirk.

The bet was a high number of money. Probably worth more than your limbs being sold in the black market. But you were here for a reason, to earn some quick money. The man in front of you looked quite wealthy, wealthy and rich men weren’t uncommon in this place but it still made you feel a bit inferior with everyone wanting to show off.

Leon leaned forward, inspecting your cards closely. The smirk on your face said it all. You thought you had a good hand, and he wouldn't deny that you had a decent one. But, it wasn't enough to beat him. He leaned back into his seat once more, his expression unchanging, as he revealed his own cards. A Spade Queen and a Diamond Ace. A straight flush. His eyes met yours, his smirk turning into a cocky grin.

"I'm afraid you've lost this round, darling," he said in a teasing tone.

Your smirk immediately fell as you saw his straight flush. Wow, you lost again. You didn’t even notice him calling you by a pet name. Did you owe this man money now? How did you not see it coming? That bastard was cocky and confident as hell! You should’ve known he had a good hand.

Leon chuckled once again. The look on your face was priceless—a mix of frustration and disbelief.

He loved it.

"Looks like I win again," he said teasingly, gathering up the chips on the table, "And don't worry, darling, you don't owe me anything. Just better luck next time."

He leaned back in his seat, his gaze still fixed on you as he smirked. He found your reaction absolutely adorable.

You furrowed your brows confused, you didn’t owe him anything? “Wait, are you serious?” You asked confusedly. He was different from other guys around here. Was he really willing to forget about your loss and even wished you better luck?

Who was this guy? There was something about him, though, that seemed dangerous and suspicious, “Why?”

Leon tilted his head to the side as he observed you, noticing the confusion on your face. You were clearly surprised by his words. It seems like you’re *not* used to men like him.

He chuckled softly at your question. "Why? Because I'm a gentleman," he responds with a smirk.

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving your face, "And I'm not in the business of taking money from pretty young girls like yourself. I'm not that heartless."

Your cheeks flared, did he just say you were pretty? You’ve never met a man so… straightforward. You cleared your throat and nibbled on your bottom lip, “Thank you,” you muttered quietly. Leon's gaze softened as he watched your cheeks flush and saw you bite your bottom lip. *Adorable.*

He’s a gentleman, he’s not *that* heartless? You didn’t understand him. He wore expensive clothes and his aura was confident.

“Is there anything else you’d like in return?” You asked as you looked at him, your arms on the table, “I’d feel guilty if you went back home empty handed.”

He leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his lips. "There is... one thing," he replied, his voice low and smooth.

He paused for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once more. "Your name," he said simply, his smile widening, "I'd like to know your name."

You stared at him for a few moments before you nodded slightly, “Okay,” you muttered. You extended your hand towards him, “My name is Y/n,” you said softly. He was truly a gentleman, wasn’t he? He doesn’t take money from girls and he was respectful. He’s one of a kind.

Leon looked at your hand for a moment before taking it gently in his own. His rough, calloused fingers wrapped around your small, soft hand. He loved the contrast between your skin and his. The way your slender fingers fit perfectly in his grasp.

"Y/n," he repeated quietly, as if he was testing the way the name felt on his tongue. He let out a soft chuckle before bringing your hand to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your cheeks flushed even more red when he kissed your knuckles. Did he come out of a book or something?! You’ve never met a man that screamed rich and respectful man. It was attractive. You were a bit speechless. Most guys met wouldn’t even be bothered to know your name and yet, here he was, treating you like a lady. Did he time travel or something?

You didn’t even try to move your hand away, it was like you got stuck in a trance. He was an enigma, who knew your poker opponent was so… you didn’t even know how to describe it. He chuckled softly at your reaction. He wasn't surprised, after all, most men don't have manners these days. Not men like him.

He slowly released your hand, though he couldn't bring himself to completely let go just yet. He continued to hold onto it, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles.

“Can I know your name too?” You asked a bit hesitantly, you wanted to know but you didn’t want to seem disrespectful. He felt so fancy, like a true gentleman. The kind of man you read in romance books where you could only dream of being treated with such care.

"Of course, darling," he replied in a low tone, his gaze still fixated on your face. He could tell that you were completely taken by him, though he couldn't blame you, most girls were. He could tell that you were captivated by his mannerisms and demeanor. It seemed like you appreciated his old-fashioned actions and chivalry, not that he was surprised. But something told him that you were different than the others. You weren't just after his wealth or status, he could see it in your eyes.

In the game of poker, it was easy to fall and lose. But for some reason, you like playing with him even if it means losing most of the rounds.

You didn’t even notice the two bodyguards approaching him from behind since you didn’t know what his occupation was like. You were strangers. The two bodyguards were ready to jump into action if you tried anything suspicious. But what could you do? You were completely harmless.

As his bodyguards approached from behind, Leon glanced over his shoulder at them. He held up a hand, silently signaling for them to hold off. The bodyguards stood a few feet away, far enough to not listen to your conversation but close enough to jump to him if he got into a dangerous situation. Leon's lips curled into an amused smile as he watched you realize the presence of his bodyguards. They were there to protect him, after all.

"My name is Leon," he finally replied, his voice just above a whisper. "Leon Kennedy."

“Leon,” you repeated, tasting the way it rolled off your tongue. It was a fancy name, suiting him very well.

“Nice to meet you, Mister Kennedy,” you said politely. Leon suppressed a chuckle as you repeated his name, the sound of it on your lips was like music to his ears. It was as if you were singing his name, rather than simply saying it.

He smirked when you called him 'Mister Kennedy,' finding your use of a formal title both amusing and endearing. "Please, call me Leon. 'Mister Kennedy' makes me feel old," he teased, his voice low and smooth.

You couldn’t help the small smile from reaching your lips, just minutes ago he beat you in a game of poker and yet, he didn’t make you feel bad for losing. You nodded at him, “Alright, I won’t.”

Then, one of the two bodyguards approached Leon, leaning down to his ear to whisper, “Sir, your presence is being requested on the tenth floor,” he whispered. Leon's expression, although unchanging, darkened at the bodyguard's words. He knew exactly what it meant for his presence to be "requested" on the tenth floor. But he didn't want to leave just yet. He was enjoying the time he had with you, he was enjoying your company and your sweet demeanor. If only he could stay a little bit longer.

He nodded at the bodyguard, silently signaling that he understood. He looked back at you, his expression softening once again.

"I have business to attend to," he said quietly, a hint of regret in his voice.

“Oh, right, yeah,” you muttered quickly under your breath as you stood up, fixing your outfit that you were wearing, “I shouldn’t take more of your time,” you said softly and politely, “It was nice meeting you, Leon. I hope to play with you in the future.”

Leon looked up at you as you stood up, his gaze following every movement. He could feel his heart skip a beat, he found you truly adorable. He felt a pang of disappointment when you mentioned not taking up more of his time. But he understood, he had responsibilities to take care of.

"The pleasure was all mine, darling," he said quietly, his voice slightly strained. He didn't want you to leave, but he had no choice.

“Sir,” one bodyguard spoke up from behind him, “Should we keep an eye on her?” He asked as the bodyguard’s gaze remained on your form, you were already standing by the bar drinking a damn fountain drink.

It was clear that the bodyguards were good at their job, they wanted to keep Leon safe since he was a mafia boss and enemies could be everywhere. Leon's gaze shifted from yours as he focused on his bodyguard's question. He could sense the slight tension in the air, the bodyguards were always cautious. But that was their job, to protect him at all costs.

He shook his head slightly, "No, that won't be necessary," he replied coldly, "She's harmless," he added, his eyes fixated on you once more.

“Yes sir,” the bodyguard said before the two bodyguards began to escort Leon to the elevator to get to the tenth floor. As Leon walked towards the elevator, escorted by his bodyguards, he couldn't help but glance back one last time, his eyes settling on your form at the bar.

He felt a twinge of something, was it concern? He wasn't sure. The thought of you being approached by someone else made him uneasy. But he had to remind himself that you weren't his responsibility.

He stepped into the elevator, his mind still occupied with thoughts of you.

"Watch her," he muttered to his bodyguards, "make sure no one goes near her."

The bodyguard nodded before stepping out of the elevator and went over to watch from a distance to not scare me off.

He was left with the other bodyguard and as they reached the tenth floor, the doors opened to reveal a very expensive suite, “Ah, Leon,” the voice of a man rang as he approached Leon.

The man was no other than a guy that went by an alias, “Kyle”, for safety reasons, “Glad you could make it,” he was dressed in nothing but a bathrobe, the belt tight around his waist to keep him from flashing anyone. Kyle was a character, that much was clear. Greeting Leon as if they were old friends.

"Cut the pleasantries," Leon replied coolly as he strode past Kyle, into the extravagant suite. Despite his cold exterior, his mind was still occupied by thoughts of you.

Kyle laughed and followed after Leon, “Always cutting to the chase, huh, amigo?” He said the Spanish word in a terrible accent, he didn’t even know Spanish.

Kyle was truly one of a kind but he was an ally to Leon’s mafia. Matter of fact, he provided Leon with the newest weapons from an Italian manufacturer. Illegal weapon trafficking.

“Got some new ladies you might want to see,” he said as he walked in front of Leon, guiding him to his room. As he entered his room, the sheets were messy and two naked women laid on the bed. With a flick of his wrist, the ladies stepped out of the room, giving Leon a wink.

As they entered the room, Leon couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of the naked women on the bed. Was this really necessary?

"I'm not interested," he said bluntly, his cold tone sending a clear message. Despite his outwardly tough demeanor, Leon disliked the lifestyle that Kyle embodied.

Kyle definitely had a typical lifestyle of a play boy, always finding girls to sleep with as he spends money on expensive champagne and clothes. But he was a good provider for the mafia. Kyle was needed; a necessary evil.

But Leon wasn’t a womanizer like that, especially with the way he treated you. Kyle chuckled and shook his head, “Oh, I think you will,” he muttered before I retrieved a box and opened it. Leon's expression changed. The sight of the new weapons in the box piqued his interest.

“Got these new ladies fresh from Rome,” he said, revealing new manufactured guns, “These are in beta testing but their purpose isn’t like regular guns—no. These babies hold up to thrice the ammunition and can fire double bullets at the same time.”

He could already see the potential these guns held. The extra ammunition and the ability to fire double bullets at once could give his men an advantage in a dangerous situation.

"Interesting," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the guns. Despite his dislike for Kyle's lifestyle, Leon had to admit he knew how to source the best weapons.

"How did you get your hands on these?" he asked, his voice now lacking any hostility.

Kyle shrugged and leaned back, “I sent a blueprint last month over to my manufacturer in Italy. Said he’d give it a try. He experimented here and there right before he sent me these prototypes.”

“But I don’t recommend using them yet,” he said as he walked over to stand next to Leon, draping an arm around Leon’s shoulders as if they were best friends.

“Something about them probably not working and backfiring. Blah, blah, blah. You know the nerd stuff,” he said.

Leon's brow furrowed as he heard Kyle's words. Using untested weapons could be risky, especially if they had the potential for a devastating recoil. He pushed Kyle's arm off his shoulders, his expression turning cold again. He wasn't fond of being touched, especially by someone like Kyle.

"Then why show them to me if they might not work?" he asked with a hint of irritation in his voice. He preferred to focus on proven weapons, not experimental ones.

As his arm was pushed off his shoulders, Kyle wasn’t a bit ashamed, “Well, before we proceed with the testing, we needed your approval.”

Then, Kyle grew a bit serious, which only ever happened once a fortnight. He leaned closer to Leon to whisper in his ear, “I’ve heard that there’s been recent suspicious activity up north where the colony is. This is just a precaution because I don’t want anyone stealing my guns.”

Ever since Leon became the new mafia boss, which was years ago, many other bosses have tried to take him down. Even if it meant stealing his resources. Despite his disdain for Kyle, Leon couldn't ignore the serious look on his face. He knew that when Kyle spoke like this, he wasn't messing around.

"Suspicious activity, you say?" he replied, his voice low and calculating. He didn't appreciate being targeted, especially by other mafia bosses, "Any idea who might be behind it?"

He shrugged and shook his head, “No, there’s no idea who it might be but I’ve heard rumors that it’s someone who’s after your territory.”

Kyle sighed and stored the guns away once more, “In any case. Call me up if you change your plan, I’ll send word to Italy to keep producing and testing. Until then,” he said before he patted Leon on the shoulder and walked out of his room saying, “Alright, ladies, who’s ready for some sexy time on the jacuzzi?”

Leon watched as Kyle left the room, rolling his eyes at the man's behavior. Despite Kyle's eccentricities and playboy lifestyle, he couldn't deny that he was an asset to the mafia. As the sound of laughter and splashing water came from the jacuzzi, Leon turned his attention back to the matter at hand. The possibility of someone targeting his territory unsettled him.

With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts once again drifting to you. He couldn't seem to get you off his mind.

“Do you want to go back to the main floor, Sir?” His bodyguard asked. Leon's eyes went to his bodyguard, and he nodded.

"Yes," he said simply. He had to go back to the main floor. He knew that his bodyguards had been instructed to keep an eye on you, and he was curious to see if you were still there.

As he stepped out of the room, he couldn't help but glance over at the bar. He could see you sitting there, sipping on a Dr. Pepper. Despite the presence of his bodyguard, he took a subtle step closer, watching you from a distance.

Now the three men were watching you, Leon with his two bodyguards behind him. They were no longer on the tenth floor and instead were on the main floor where you were.

“Who is she, boss?” One bodyguard asked. They had seen Leon play with you for a few rounds but they didn’t hear your conversation. Of how he forgave your debt and asked for your name, but they did see him kiss your hand. Leon's gaze never left you, his eyes watching your every move. He could feel the curiosity of his bodyguards, they had clearly noticed his interaction with you.

“Do you know her?” The other bodyguard asked. They still kept professional but their curiosity was high. They’ve never seen Leon talk to a woman before, he’d usually brush them off because he knew they were after his money.

"She's nobody," Leon replied, his voice cold and distant. Even though he had shown you a rare moment of humanity, he didn’t want his bodyguards to think he had a “soft spot”, especially towards a stranger.

"She's just a poker player, that's all," he added, dismissing their curiosity. But his eyes told a different story, he couldn't tear his gaze away from you.

“A terrible one,” one commented, “A Diamond queen and clover king against your straight flush… she’s got confidence.”

“Or maybe she didn’t know. Our boss holds a really good poker face,” the other replied. Which was true, Leon was a damn good poker player but you also didn’t play like a professional. You barely knew what you were doing.

You turned around to get your bag from the stool next to your standing form, seemingly finished with your drink and getting ready to pay for it.

Leon's eyes followed your every movement, his mind racing, "She was a challenge,” he said quietly, his voice betraying a hint of amusement. Despite your lack of skill, he had enjoyed playing with you, it had been surprisingly fun.

As he saw you turn to retrieve your bag, he felt a strange pang in his chest. He didn’t want you to leave yet. He took a step forward, his bodyguards following closely behind him.

You were too busy looking through your bag, pulling out your wallet and counting the bills you had to pay your tab. Would it even be considered a tab if you got non-alcoholic drinks? You didn’t notice Leon returning at all, his bodyguards didn’t say anything. They knew better than to prod at his life choices. If anything, they’d just keep a more careful eye on you to make sure nothing bad happened.

“Hold on—“ you said to the bartender as you counted your coins to give him the exact number of your total.

As you began counting your coins to pay the bartender, he couldn't help but step forward and reach into his pocket, "I'll cover it," he said, his voice firm and commanding. He felt strangely compelled to take care of you, even in this small gesture.

You straightened up at the sound of his voice, your heart jumped and beat quickly as you whipped your head to look at none other than Leon. Always a true gentleman.

“I—“ you said as yoi looked at him and the bartender before you looked back at his blue eyes, “No, it’s okay. I’ve got this,” you said quietly. He’d already forgiven your debt and now he wants to pay for your drinks?

Leon's expression remained stoic as he heard your protest. He didn't expect you to be so modest and determined to pay for your own drinks. But he found it endearing.

"It's not a problem," he replied, his voice firm. He could sense your guilt, but he didn’t want you to feel like a charity case. He genuinely wanted to take care of you, even if it was in small ways. He slid a few bills to the bartender, paying for your drinks and closing the tab before you could argue further.

Your cheeks blushed again as you looked away, you’ve never had anyone take care of you like he has, “You’re too kind,” you muttered in a flustered tone.

He was already breaking his own rules because the bodyguards seemed to have picked up on some details. It wasn’t common for them to see Leon be so… interested in a woman. Much less someone like you but they found it oddly endearing. Secretly cheering for their boss.

Leon was taller than you so you had to look up at him, “Did everything go well with your business?” You asked genuinely. Leon's expression softened slightly as he saw your flushed cheeks and your sincere question. He was unused to caring about someone’s well being, but he found himself wanting to share a bit with you.

"Yes, business went well," he confirmed, his voice remaining cool and collected. But there was a hint of tiredness in his eyes, the stresses of being a mafia boss often taking a toll on him.

He studied you for a moment, his gaze calculating but not unkind. "And how have you been?" he asked, surprising himself with his own question.

“Oh, you know,” you faintly shrugged your shoulders as you pointed towards the bar, “I stayed there the whole time. I don’t like wandering on my own. Lots of… creeps out here, y’know?”

But he wasn’t a creep. He was far from it. Leon was a gentleman, a man who knew how to treat women right.

Leon chuckled, a rare sound coming from him, at your straightforward answer. He found it refreshing how honest you were, unlike the fake smiles and flattery he usually received from people.

His eyes swept the casino floor, full of various people, men, and women. He knew you were right about the creeps that roamed around, especially with a pretty face like yours.

"You're right about the creeps," he agreed, his voice low and protective. "A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be out here alone."

Your cheeks blushed again when he said you were pretty, why was he so casual with the compliments?! But nevertheless, you couldn’t stop the smile forming on your lips, “Yeah… I was about to leave since it was getting late, actually,” you said as you quickly remembered what you were doing.

“I was going to get an Uber and go back home. I should probably practice my poker skills too,” you said with a small smile. Leon's gaze darkened slightly at the mention of you leaving. He didn't want this night to end, not when he'd enjoyed your company more than he thought he would.

He took a step closer, shortening the distance between you. "An Uber?" he repeated, his voice taking on a hint of disapproval. "With all the creepers out there?"

He paused, seeming to consider something before speaking again. "Let me give you a ride home," he offered, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your eyes widened a bit and your breath hitched when he stepped closer to you and offered you a ride home. You should’ve said no but for some reason, you felt safe in his presence. You slowly nodded your head, feeling like you shouldn’t reject his offer. He’s been kind to you and you wanted to be kind as well, “Only if it’s not a burden.”

“I’d hate to shift your plans for the night. I don’t want to be an inconvenience,” you said with a nervous laugh as you played with your hands.

Leon couldn't help but chuckle at your words and the nervousness in your laugh. You were clearly unused to being cared for like this, but it was almost endearing to see you flustered. He shook his head, his expression serious. "It's not a burden," he reassured you. "And you're not an inconvenience. I wouldn't offer unless I meant it."

He motioned for his bodyguards to follow as he put a hand gently on your lower back, beginning to guide you towards the exit. You gathered your things, which was just your purse, and let him guide you towards the exit. His bodyguards were shocked to say the least. They knew Leon didn’t like to be touched or touch other people but here he was, gently putting his hand on you to guide you out of the building. They were in for a fun ride.

As you made it out and stepped outside, you were met with wind. The wind blew over your form, goosebumps on your skin as you wrapped your arms over your chest to give yourself some heat. Leon noticed your body shiver, the cool night air obviously getting to you. He was so used to suppressing his own physical needs that he had briefly forgotten that you weren’t built for the harsher elements like he was.

"Here," he said gruffly. He removed his black jacket and gently placed it around your shoulders, his fingers lingering for a moment on the fabric.

The black suit jacket was big on you but it was so warm, it even smelled like his cologne and you felt your cheeks flare up. He smelled good, “Thank you,” you said as you looked up at him.

A black car pulled in front of you, it was fancy and the black was matte. No doubt, the latest car. Just how rich was he? One of the bodyguards moved towards the door and opened it for the two of you. Leon nodded in acknowledgement of your thanks, his eyes never leaving yours, "After you," he said, gesturing for you to get into the car first. His voice was gruff, but there was a warm undertone in it.

He waited, standing by the car door, until you climbed in, before he slid into the seat beside you, closing the door behind him. The bodyguards climbed into the front seat, the engine purring softly to life.

No one would’ve believed them if they said that Leon was warm and kind. They’ve seen the type of ruthless man he could be, he was a mafia boss! Hence why the bodyguards were shocked. They’ve never seen him act this way with anyone.

You sat next to Leon, your thighs pressed together and your form still wearing his black suit jacket, “Thank you,” you said before you climbed to sit next to him. You were new to the whole taken care of thing. Leon felt a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest when you thanked him again. It was as if you weren’t used to being treated like this, but he found himself wanting to give you more. He felt the strange urge to wrap you in his arms, to keep you close and away from the world.

He let out a low hum of acknowledgment. "You don’t need to keep thanking me," he said quietly, his voice low and rough.

You softy laughed at his words despite his low and rough voice, “Sorry, force of habit. I’m not used to people being so kind to me. Especially after playing Poker with me,” you replied with a small but genuine smile.

“Most guys would either just get mad at me for beating them or they would humiliate me further for beating me,” you said quietly, your hands laying on your lap as you looked down at them.

Then you glanced back at him, “But you’re different. I think… I like to have you as my opponent… if you’d let me,” but it was more than just Poker, right? It was about connecting, about seeing him again. His expression softened as you spoke again, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "You like having me as your opponent, huh?" he said, his voice holding a hint of amusement.

He reached out, his hand gently resting on top of yours, his touch calloused but surprisingly gentle, "You don’t even know what you’re asking for."

Your breath hitched and you looked down at his hand on top of yours. Even though he’d held your hand and kissed it, you still got flustered.

But he was right. Essentially, you didn’t even know him. You met him today and lost a poker game. But something in you wanted to keep seeing him, you didn’t want to let such a kind man go.

“I can learn,” you whispered. This went beyond poker, even though you spoke about it, hidden words were conveyed. You didn’t know what you were asking for, not knowing he was in the mafia. Leon's smirk grew at your words, a hint of something more behind it. He could hear the double meaning in your words, and it sent a thrill through him. Here you were, this timid, pretty thing, wanting to get to know him better.

His fingers gently squeezed your hand as he spoke, his voice low. "You’re a fast learner, I bet," he said, his eyes never leaving yours.

But then his expression darkened slightly, the reality of his world intruding on the moment. He was a mafia boss, and you… you were innocent and pure.

You nodded, “I like learning things. Knowledge is power, is what George Orwell said once,” you muttered. Leon's smirk turned into a half-smile at your mention of George Orwell. This girl was full of surprises. It seemed to him that you were more than just a pretty face working as a pit boss.

His grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if reflexively trying to keep a grip on you. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, he should let you go before you get swept into the dangerous world he lived in.

But something about you was making him greedy. The Mafia Boss never had to worry about letting go before, now, he didn’t want to.

You felt his hand tighten around yours and you didn’t want to let go yet. Once you reached your apartment, you looked at him and leaned towards his face to whisper, “Think it over,” you whispered, your brows furrowing a bit before you let go of his hand and got out of the car.

Leon's eyes widened slightly at your whisper, your unexpected boldness sending a jolt of surprise, and something else through him. You'd just told him to think things over, as if it was a date that you were asking him on. But before he could open his mouth to reply, you had already slipped out of the car, leaving him a bit taken aback.

He stayed sitting in his seat for a beat, his fingers clenching the leather, his eyes fixed on your figure. You were playing with fire, and you didn’t even realize it.

You were about to walk into your apartment when you realized you were still wearing his suit jacket. You quickly ran back towards the car and slipped it the jacket off, giving him an awkward smile, “I, uh…”

“Almost forgot this,” you muttered softly, the pink hue on your cheeks not leaving any time soon. Leon took the jacket in his hands, his gaze lingering on you as you handed it to him. He took in your flushed cheeks, your awkward smile, and it sent a pang through his chest.

He wanted to reach out, to touch your cheek, to do something to keep you from leaving. But instead, he simply folded the jacket over his arm, his fingers tracing the fabric.

"Keep it," he said, his voice rough. "It looks better on you."

Your eyes widened a bit and your lips parted into a small ‘Oh’ when he gave you the jacket once more. To which you slowly took, you didn’t want to be greedy but you loved the way it smelled.

“Thank you,” you whispered sincerely, “For tonight.”

The offer still stood. You were willing to throw yourself down into a fire if it meant getting to know him better. Isn’t that what Poker is about? To understand your opponent? But this wasn’t about Poker anymore.

Leon clenched his jaw as he watched your expression, your sincere thanks only making it harder for him to let you go. Your naivete was like a double-edged sword - it drew him in but also made him hesitant.

But he wasn’t some saint. No, far from it. He was a Mafia Boss, and he wasn’t used to denying himself.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking with yours, his voice a rough, quiet murmur. “When can I see you again?”

You stared at him through the window, a bit surprised that he wanted to see you again. You were just some idiot poker player and yet… was he actually considering seeing you again?

You stood there in shock for a few seconds like an absolute idiot before you realized you hadn’t said anything. Your cheeks flushed and you quickly cleared your throat, “Uh—“

He paused, his eyes roaming over you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your uncertainty. It was a new sight for him, having a woman so clearly out of his world be so... vulnerable.

“You want to see me again?” You asked unsure. Leon’s lips quirked up into a small smirk at your reaction, your surprise and confusion only endearing you to him more. You were just so damn endearing. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze sharp, “Yes, I want to see you again.”

“Well, I’m free this Saturday… if you want to—I dunno—go out…?”

“Saturday it is, then. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

This time, you couldn’t help the smile that reached your lips. Was he truly taking you out on a date? You nodded your head at him, your lips curling up into a genuine smile, “Alright…” you muttered quietly, “I’ll see you then. You know where I live anyway.”

He offered you a ride and now knows where you lived, but somehow, you felt comfortable with him knowing, “Goodnight, Leon.”

You walked backwards, looking at him for as long as possible before eventually turning around to get into your apartment. Leon watched as you retreated back into your apartment, his gaze following your every move. There was a strange flutter in his chest, something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Something that he thought he had lost.

When you disappeared from sight, he let out a low, rough exhale, running his hand through his short hair. This was dangerous, getting close to you, but he couldn’t seem to find it in himself to care.

“Goodnight, doll,” he murmured, watching your door close behind you.

[shiphappen-s]

Ok so like brace yourself bc I haven't read the brick and I'm playing fast and loose w canon here but you know that line in Bring Him Home where Valjean is looking at Marius and is like "he's like the son I might have known, if God had granted me a son"

What if Marius and Cosette swapped places. Marius was always a sensitive boy and he always had his quirks and such (personally I HC him as autistic / on the spectrum but like again fully fanon/musical based pls don't come for me). And where those more vulnerable sides of him would have been mostly squashed under the care of his grandfather, valjean nurtures them. And Marius just looks at valjean like he hung the stars in the sky, he's everything Marius wants to be when he grows up. A man who can protect himself and his family while still being kind and generous and sometimes nervous just like he always is. This guts Valjean because he feels so unworthy of this love and innocent childlike devotion. Marius should want to be so much more than a convict on the run from the law, which actually results in him telling Marius about his past early on in an effort to quell this thing but only ends up making Marius love and respect him more lol. Anyway I'm getting off topic

Cosette who was never taken from the Thenardiers, who grew up hungry and cold and right next to Eponine. They had a vicious rivalry until their early teens but once Eponine stopped getting daughter privileges and started getting punished the same if not more than cosette they formed a quick alliance. Eventually they became thick as thieves, often dreaming about the day that Fantine would come for her child and cosette would convince her to take them both out of this hell. Eponine is eventually the one to find out what happened to Fantine. Learning that her mother died alone and cold and abused because of the thenardiers simultaneously broke and forged something in Cosettes soul. Eponine became more and more bitter about life and the world but Cosette could not watch idle as the thenardiers continued to ruin people's life. She starts stealing from them and distributing it to the poor, purposely botching their jobs under the guise of being clumsy/stupid, subtly taking their attention so that Eponine or gavroche could nick food or medicine or whatever they needed. This eventually puts her on the path to bump into the Les amis and she quickly joins them and rises in the ranks. Her and Enjolras, though from completely opposite upbringings, are a United front when it comes to ideals. She is merged into the inner circle and becomes close with all of the boys, becoming a mix of big sister and little sister to all the students in attendance. Grantaire gets on her nerves a bit but he's so similar to Eponine that she can't stay mad at him. Especially bc he's never cruel and she can see his point most of the time, it's just annoying to be interrupted all the time lol

Cosette would fall immediately for the shy well read rich boy who spends his days giving to the poor and helping the needy as best he can. Marius would fall instantly for the girl with fire in her eyes and bruises on her knuckles who speaks passionately about equality and freedom for all.

(There would also be no love triangle with Eponine here bc she's had her eyes on the good looking intellectual man who serves as the right hand of Enjolras. He helped her in a tight spot once and he didn't flinch at her state or even ask for any kind of repayment. She doesn't know his name yet as she hasn't crossed paths with her sisters group all that often but the people in that group sometimes call him the guide. She usually keeps her cards close to her chest on this kind of stuff but she's planning on tagging along to the next meeting of his so she can see this man in his element and determine if his kindness was a fluke or not)

[thebramblewood]

I got a very nice ask from @charsimsalot asking about my process for taking screenshots, but before I get to that I wanted to share some of my favorite pre-Simblr screenies. These were stories I was making solely for myself, and I feel like I owe a lot to them. I didn't know it at the time, but they were my practice runs for everything I'm doing now! I'm very glad I can always look back at them. Yes, there are things I would have done differently, but they mostly fill me with warm and fuzzy memories. I love all these pixels very much and would like to return to their legacy eventually. 🥰

I'm always reluctant to share links because I feel like it's a little embarrassing I was doing so much for almost no one to see. But it's an important little piece of me, so if you're curious, here's where you can actually read their stories. You can even see how dodgy my graphic design skills were in the banners, lol!

Stranger Than Fiction A Place to Call Home The Future of Sulani A Magical Bond

More rambling on my current process and how I feel like it's evolved to come, but give me a couple days to put it together! ❤️

[adoresia]

Imagine…

coming to the end of your date with Satoru and you want to film a TikTok video of yourself in memory of the view and also how good you looked. But for extra effect you wanted the wind to blow your hair so it looked like it was flowing in the wind in front of the setting sun, unfortunately there was no wind. So you had to take matters into your own hands…

“Omg toru, I didn't get any good videos wait.” You paused everything you were doing and ran up to the balcony of the restaurant he took you too. The sun hastily setting creating a warm hue in the sky

“We can go take them now look the sun is setting and everything! Might even take some videos of myself ngl.” Gojo exclaimed excitedly, he never wanted to miss out on an opportunity of doing stuff with you, whether it be filming a TikTok, baking, shopping… he liked what you liked.

“Who is we? Boy come help me take this video.”

“Lame, who wouldn’t want to see videos of me I’m literally the strongest.” He argued smugly.

“The only person who would probably like your video is Me, and possibly Megumi out of pity.”

“Your so mean to me I literally brought you on this date” he sulked

“Stop complaining and come blow on my face, there isn’t enough wind.”

“Why the hell am I blowing on your face.”

“Because I did my hair extra good today and I want it to flow in the wind like those beach girls on TikTok.”

Without questioning you again, Gojo positions himself standing a little bit to your side making sure he wasn’t in the frame of the camera. And blew with all his might.

“Why are you blowing so HARD… you are NOT the big bad wolf.”

“IM LITERALLY DOING WHAT YOU ASKED ME TO DO.”

“I ASKED YOU TO BLOW NOT CREATE A SPITTING HURRICANE WITH YOUR MOUTH.”

“Stop screaming at me you’re making me sad.” He cooed playfully

“You play too much. Never mind, let’s just go I give up.” You brushed off, you reconned you could just do it the next time he brought you out on a site-seeing date.

“No, please okay I won’t play around this time. I’ll do it properly.”

You stopped for a second debating if you really wanted to retry since you had already closed the app and put your phone away. However you gave in (very easily probably because of the forced pout Gojo had on his face.

“Omg okay fine stop making that face you’re scaring me.”

And so you go again, this time Gojo blows more gently, the air was more caressing as it blew past your face and through the strands your hair. However he stopped before the video had ended which confused you, causing you to turn slightly ready to be met with a harsh blow. But to your surprise, Gojo had walked into the frame dropping a gentle peck on your soft lips before taking your phone and smiling at the camera.

“Aww how nice, toru. I thought you were gonna start playing around again.”

“You didn’t expect me to kiss you huh? I’m so unpredictable.”

“No you’re just really silly, I already knew you were gonna do something like that.”

“Don’t lie now baby.”

You both watched as the video played on repeat, Gojo staring intently locking onto the features on your face and how the aroma of the sun setting behind you had enhanced your beauty even more. You were so enticing. He thought, he could never keep it to himself. That would be selfish

“You’re so beautiful, can I get a kiss back?”

— I saw this TikTok before going to bed and was like wait this is kinda cute imagine how funny it would be with satoru, so here is my thoughts basically LOL. I’m tired now goodnight this drained me omg.

Video inspiration below!!

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

How about a Regina George x fem reader (I'm not a writer just a reader lol, the best I can do is song lyrics so I'm sorry if this idea has been taken or sucks)

Rivalry Turned Romance:

Your character and Regina are rivals in some way.

Initially, their interactions are filled with snarky remarks and subtle sabotage as they try to outdo each other. However, beneath the rivalry, there's a mutual respect and fascination.

As they spend more time together, they start to appreciate each other's strengths and vulnerabilities. Their competitive banter gradually turns into playful flirting, and they realize there's more to their relationship than just rivalry.

Rivalry Lights the Spark for Romance

|| Regina George x fem!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, brief mentions of getting drunk, reader and regina rivalry, enemies to friends and lovers mention, long fic

|| Summary; reader and regina never got along. Like, ever. It would be a cold day in hell if they did. There was always something for the girls to argue over... until there wasn't.

Requests open!

Started; September 17th

Finished; September 17th

~~~

Regina George. The two of you were in a stare down from across the cafeteria. You sat with your group of friends, she sat with hers. Regina and you have had a long standing rivalry that dates back to sixth grade. When Regina stopped being human. Your friend group and hers used to be one big group that hung out together all the time. Then the Janis incident happened and you and your friends sided with Janis.

You, Prudence Ollia, Savie Lane and Nyla Caves were deemed 'weirdos' for doing so. While Regina, Gretchen and Karen grew in popularity. Janis was left on the side lines. You and her haven't hung out at all in the more recent years. Since highschool you've just lost touch with each other.

Which brings us back to present day.

"So. What's our next sabotage plan for Lilith over there?" Prudence asked. Lilith was the code name which your group had made for Regina when you talked about her in public and didn't want others to know.

You didn't take your eyes off Regina. It was like the two of you were in some game of chicken. First one to look away loses," huh?" You asked, not really paying attention.

"Next sabotage plan." Prudence simplified.

"Oh!" Savie grinned as she slammed her hands on the side of the table, looking at the three of you with mischief in her eyes," we replace her shampoo with hairdye. Give her green hair."

"Classic." Nyla nodded with a laugh," but none of us would even be able to step foot in Regina's house."

"Actually, I'm pretty certain her mom still thinks Lilith and I are absolute besties. Maybe I could give it a try, make an excuse like she left something in her room for me to pick up or whatever. Lilith's mom probably wouldn't even think to ask for details." You stated, eyes still on the blonde. You swear she hasn't even blinked once this whole stare down.

"I'll buy the hair dye," Savie did an excited clap. She was usually the most hyped up when it came to the sabotage plans.

That night, you did exactly what you had said you would. Luckily Ms George did think the two of you were still friends and Regina happened to be out at a party. So you were able to pull things off pretty smoothly.

The following day, Regina George showed up to school with bright lime green hair. But instead of laughing, people were in awe. And lime green hair was a trend over the next couple weeks.

Regina remained unaffected, which annoyed you to no end. How does everything you do just boost her popularity? It was infuriating. Though you couldn't help but respect her just a little. Only a little.

She walked by your locker as you were grabbing your trumpet out for music class," What? Too cool for green hair, L/N?" She smirked at you when she noticed you hadn't dyed yours to follow the trend. That technically you started.

"Shouldn't you be off trying to steal Christmas, Grinch?" You replied, trumpet case by your side.

Her eyes widened just slightly in annoyance and she snatched your case from you, flicking it open and taking the mouth piece. She handed your trumpet back," good luck in music, loser." Regina winked at you as she walked away. Mouth piece in her fist.

You sighed deeply. Honestly surprised she even recognized that piece was important. You didn't think Regina knew anything about music. Though the only grievance her act actually caused you was a lecture from the music teacher about not "losing" pieces to your instrument.

So it didn't bother you all that much. Which annoyed Regina, but she had a small respect for it. But it was only small.

Things like this would continue to happen between the two of you throughout the rest of the year. Each of you gaining a little bit more respect for the other.

One day, a few weeks before the Christmas talent show, Regina passed by your locker and gave you her signature smirk.

"Hey, L/N. Signing up for the talent show?" She asked, clearly she wasn't really interested. However, unless you were seeing incorrectly, her eyes scanned your body. It was quick and easy to miss if you didn't happen to be looking in her eyes when it happened- what? Pfft, no you weren't staring into Regina's eyes. You hated her.

"Yeah, actually. You still doing that tradition of yours?" You replied, arms folded across your chest as you leaned against your locker.

Regina scoffed, folding her own arms," obviously. Bet it's better than whatever you're doing."

"Playing the trumpet without a mouth piece. You know, when you stole it it gave me the idea to actually give it a try. Kinda fun," You grinned at her. Yes you did it specifically so you could rub it in her face that you were unbothered.

You saw her eye twitch ," whatever, loser."

Christmas was nearing, the talent show was here. You were on before the plastics and Mr Duvall called your name to the stage.

You walked on and took a seat, trumpet held in front of you. You took a breath and got ready to play. Only no sound came out when you tried.

"What?" You muttered to yourself and turned your trumpet around, looking down into it. Apparently someone had stuffed it with pink slime. Not the runny kind, but the kind that looks more like rubber. You rolled your eyes. You didn't need the pink to tell you who had done this," Just a moment."

You got up and took the slime out as you headed back stage, looking for Regina. When you found her; her and her crew were laughing. Presumably at you. They hadn't noticed you approach, so you took your chance.

You threw the slime directly at Regina, it slapped her in the face and landed in her hair. Getting stuck. She screamed and her eyes snapped to your direction.

"Oh you're so dead!" She immediately walked towards you, you stood your ground even after getting a solid bitch slap from the blonde.

The two of you were now in a full on brawl, you knocked Regina to the ground but she pinned you there. The both of you wrestled each other.

Gretchen and Karen shared a look while Cady encouraged it. Being the fake she is.

It didn't take long for Ms Norbury to find you and Regina and separate the both of you.

"She attacked me!" Regina yelled.

"You punched first!" You yelled back.

Ms Norbury sighed deeply," I don't care who started it, ladies. You are both just as involved as the other." Her eyes landed on the slime in Regina's hair," Regina, go get cleaned up. Y/N Mr Duvall's office. Regina you'll meet her there. You have ten minutes before I come get you to make sure you go."

"Ugh. This is so fucking stupid," Regina muttered.

"You're fucking stupid," You muttered right back as you both walked out. Narrowing your eyes at each other.

Soon enough, the both of you are in Mr Duvall's office. Just waiting for the talent show to be over as Ms Norbury waited with you. Keeping an eye on you both in case another fight started.

When Mr Duvall finally joined you, he looked... more disappointed than anything. Or maybe he was just tired.

"How many times must we do this?" He asked. This was not the first time you and Regina had been in his office together.

You and Regina gave each other a side eye.

"It put slime in my trumpet," You pointed to Regina.

"'It'?!" She looked ready to fight you again.

"Girls! Please." Duvall sighed and leaned forward, arms rested on his desk." Both of you are in the wrong. Both of you are being punished. You'll have detention with each other for the rest of this week and next. And you'll be given tasks from the janitor. Maybe if you work together on it... you'll at least tolerate each other more and I won't get so many headaches."

You did not tolerate each other more.

At least, not at first. The first few clean up tasks were absolutely hell.

That was until the janitor trusted you and Regina with floor cleaning machine. (i wish it had a better name but i could not find anything. they're those zamboni things. i'm just gonna call it a zamboni 😭)

You don't know how you earned his trust to use this but you did. School was out for the day and you and Regina had to stay behind, the janitor left already. Leaving the two of you to work alone with this.

You glanced at Regina and grinned. "Bumper cars?"

Regina raised an eyebrow," you're so stupid."

"Come on! You know you want to~!"

"Absolutely not." She folded your arms and started walking away.

You got an even better idea." Slip and slide?"

That got her to pause and consider it. She looked back at you," if it will get you to shut up."

"Definitely." It wouldn't.

You and Regina worked together to get the floor of a hall cleaned up with the cleaning zambonis. Once it was done, you took a running start from around the corner then sprinted down the hall. Sliding the whole way down and trying to stay on your feet. You did not. You landed on your ass about half way down.

Regina laughed as she watched you and thought 'screw it' as she did the same thing. She made it about the same length as you, then fell on her front with a thud.

The two of you laid on the floor and laughing, looking at each other with smiles on your faces. Maybe Regina George wasn't so bad. What you didn't know is that Regina was starting to think the same about you.

"Hey. Wanna ditch this and go get bobas?" You asked, you doubted she would even agree.

Regina seemed to hesitate for a moment before she got off the floor," yeah, sure. But you're paying."

"Aw, whattt? You're like a billionaire." You stood and followed her out of the school.

"So?"

You rolled your eyes but smiled. The halls didn't get cleaned that night, but it seems Mr Duvall's strategy worked a little better than he thought it would.

The two of you rekindled your friendship, you still annoyed each other to no end but on a less... chaotic scale. It was more controlled and less sabotages.

And later it even became more as you and Regina had a very intense drunk make out session.

[jeonscatalyst]

Hi there. Thank you for your wonderful posts. I enjoy reading them.

I don't care if their relationship is platonic or not as long as Jungkook and Jimin are happy, but there's one thing that makes me think they might be more than just friends. It’s that they “don’t” talk about why they chose to enlist together. When it was announced that the two of them would be enlisting together, I had no doubts that there was some explanation for why they chose that. But, as you know, they never talked about why they chose to enlist together, at least directly. Of course, I don't think they have an obligation to explain to us the reasons for all their actions, and if they don't want to talk, that's fine too. I want them to do what they want to. But I think it’s natural that many people wonder why only two out of the seven chose to enlist together and they should’ve known we were wondering but they chose not to explain the reason to us. To me, NOT explaining seems like the answer in itself. Does what I'm saying make sense? If not, Sorry English is not my first language.

If they were just very close friends, I think they would have easily explained the reason. Like, it's reassuring to have friends nearby, or that being around each other helps calm anxiety, etc.

But they didn’t. The fact that they didn't give a reason leads me to believe that they simply didn't want to be apart from each other.

As I said at the beginning, I don't care whether they're more than friends or not, but if they want to be together, I hope that happens. Thank you for listening to my strange rumbling.

Hey anon,

I don’t think Jimin and Jungkook need to explain why they choose to enlist together regardless of whether they are a couple or not. Let’s normalize not getting explainations for everything the members decide to do and us not getting an explaination from them doesn’t necessarily mean that they are together. We might still get an explaination sometime but even if we don’t then that’s fine. I don’t care why they decided to enlist together, all that matters to me is that they are together and they are happy being together. We can speculate here and there about why they chose to do it but it doesn’t really matter and even if they did decide to one day tell us why they did it, do you think they would ever tell us they did it because they couldn’t bear to be apart from each other for 18 months? Absolutely not lol.

“If they were just very close friends, I think they would have easily explained the reason. Like, it's reassuring to have friends nearby, or that being around each other helps calm anxiety, etc.”

I think this is most likely the explaination we are going to get if we ever get one lol.

I get what you mean anon but I don’t necessarily think that the fact that they haven’t spoken about it means they are together. Maybe they don’t see the need to and tbf, I think Jimin might have mentioned something about it when he spoke of how relieved he is having Jungkook by his side to rely on. Maybe to them, that is explaination enough.

Just like you, i’m not crazy about if they are lovers or not, I believe they are but at the end of the day what I enjoy most about them is their beautiful bond and friendship and them possibly being lovers is just a added bonus.

Thanks anon💜

[vidavalor]

Hello lovely! I'm wondering if you have any thoughts about Maggie in Final1 5? Isn't it weird that she wants to go back to talk to Az and Crowley while Nina's working? Something about it feels off to me.

Hello right back. 💕 There's chamomile mint tea and shortbread since we're on a Maggie theme, if you'd like some. Maggie's behavior from that scene on is super fucking weird, I agree.

Before the milk run-- when Maggie becomes the only involved character whom we lose track of a bit during The Final 15-- versus how she behaves when she returns is so strange as to be something that I consider maybe additional proof that things are not at all what they seem to be in The Final 15.

On Maggie and Crowley's weird Final 15 behavior, a possible meaning to all the allusions to robbery in S2, and what Maggie and Nina might be able to tell us about what happened at the end of S2.

TW: brief mentions of show's non-consensual possession/rape analogy.

Think for a moment about how truly weird Maggie's request for her and Nina to go back to the bookshop in that moment actually is...

It's only been a matter of minutes since Maggie and Nina were basically hostages in the bookshop who were almost killed by Michael and Saraqael. Crowley saved their lives in getting them out of the shop maybe, what? It's been a minute since I rewatched that bit of it but it couldn't have been more than 15 minutes prior?

The beings in the shop but for Maggie and Nina are supernatural and so left magically without using the door but while we the audience know that these people are no longer in the shop because we were watching it, Maggie and Nina do not know that. When Maggie suggests to Nina that they go talk to Crowley and Aziraphale, they have no way of knowing if the beings that just tried to kill them are still in the shop. They didn't even see Aziraphale leave with Whoever Derek Jacobi Is Playing yet because Nina was all "where's the other one?" to Crowley when they arrived back in the shop.

Maggie is literally like: Nina, I know you opened the business you own late and are the only one working right now and have a line of 20 people waiting for their morning, pre-work coffee but what if-- just hear me out-- we just made them wait an indefinite amount of time to voluntarily go back into the place where we nearly died a matter of minutes ago that could still be full of the people who wanted us dead and we did this for no other purpose than just to tell off my beloved adopted godfather and his partner, who just risked harm to save both our lives? And to maybe then also stick our noses into their love lives in return or something?

I mean... WHAT?!?! lol

Consider, even, how even more weird that is when Maggie, just *prior* to having gone to the mini-mart, had never been more on the same page with Nina and never more understanding?

She sacrificed her own want to go sleep behind the counter of her shop to offer to help Nina. It's a big moment of change in their relationship and shows a lot of growth for Maggie. She's gone from someone who is caring but has a tendency to only think about how things make her feel to seeing things from Nina's perspective. She's matured through the season into being someone more ready to be a partner to Nina. Maggie offering to help Nina with her morning rush-- and Nina accepting the help-- is the sweet, romantic moment showing that these two are heading in a positive direction, both individually and together.

When Maggie gets back with the milk, though? After she's been out of our sight for a few minutes? She's behaving very differently.

During S2, Maggie is shown to be a pretty guileless character. She might have the occasional judgemental moment but she's not deceptive or tricky and she really wouldn't hurt a fly. When Maggie comes back from the milk run, though, her insistence on Nina dropping everything and going with her in that moment is not just weird behavior but manipulative in a way that could not be more out of character for Maggie.

Nina has been in an abusive relationship where she was afraid of displeasing Lindsay. Maggie is aware of this, as it's been the subject of multiple conversations between them throughout the season. So, when Maggie gets so bizarrely insistent on Nina dropping her work-- her livelihood, her purpose, her job-- to meet Maggie's demands in that moment? When this isn't an emergency of any kind and isn't at all time-sensitive and there is no objective reason why Nina should be halting her job to do what Maggie wants in this moment? Maggie is being controlling in a Lindsay-like way. She keeps at it, knowing that Nina will give in and agree to go with her because Nina is used to doing that with her partner.

Nina hesitates and isn't sure whether or not to go with Maggie for a moment and I don't really blame her? This is the complete opposite behavior to Maggie before she left for the mini-mart. Maggie is suddenly acting quite a lot like her polar opposite-- the Lucifer-and-Heaven-paralleling Lindsay.

Maggie is also literally on Nina's shoulder like a devil the whole time in the scene in which she's convincing her to step away from the shop and go across the street with her to the other shop for a chat and...

...listen to what we just said there...

...it's a parallel to the thing that Whoever Derek Jacobi Is Playing is doing with Aziraphale, is it not?

So, what happened on the milk run?

Who did Maggie run into at the mini-mart that we couldn't see in the ending of S2 without it giving the game away? I wouldn't be surprised if, on this mirror-happy show, on the other side of learning in S3 that it was The Devil with the coffee in the bookshop in The Final 15, we also had a scene that showed that, while on her milk run, Maggie had a run-in with Sister Teresa's killer.

Did Hastur possess Maggie as part of Satan's plan? Was the idea to use Maggie and Nina to further trip Crowley and Aziraphale towards disaster to get Aziraphale? If so, it kind of half-worked. I'm not convinced that anything Maggie and Nina said to Crowley really mattered-- I think they weren't telling him anything he didn't already know or feel and that it's largely misdirection for the audience. What was effective, though, was the impression Aziraphale got upon seeing them leave as he was coming in.

Maggie and Nina being back in there at this weird time and then rushing out with smiles and comments like that they were "just leaving" and they were sure Crowley and Aziraphale had "a lot to discuss" seem to have led Aziraphale to assume that Crowley had asked them to come back and to the conclusion that he must have done so to tell them of his intent to ask Aziraphale to marry him. It's Maggie and Nina leaving the shop that reinforce to Aziraphale the idea that, when Crowley stands up afterwards, takes off his glasses, and says he supposes he has "something to say", that Crowley is only trying to communicate a proposal and not a plan.

It's what helps-- big time-- to lead Aziraphale to not listen for a shred of coded language for the entire scene. Neither he nor Crowley are listening for that with one another, which is why neither of them can truly understand what the other is saying, but Aziraphale's part of that is really fucked to Hell by the presence of Maggie and Nina in the shop when he came back. That's all pretty suspicious since Maggie was out of our sight for a few moments and came back fixated on the idea that she and Nina needed to go to the bookshop right that very moment and that it couldn't wait.

The Final 15 is a dark parallel to The Baby Swap plot and Maggie and Nina are full of shadows of Sisters Mary and Teresa to a point that the final shots of both of them in the series are mirror images of the final shots of their S1 characters. Nina looking through glass at Crowley departing is the last shot of Sister Mary both in 2008 and 2019, while Maggie's last shot?

To me, it's one of the most eerie moments in the entire series because of how much it visually resembles Sister Teresa's death.

Basically two minutes after we hear about The Second Coming... in the same season where Maggie and Nina's partial-vavoom gives way to a (possessed?) Gabriel saying: the dead will leave their graves and walk the Earth once more... we are shown Crowley and Aziraphale's apparent adopted goddaughter unresponsive on the counter of her shop.

Is Maggie dead?

Is Maggie asleep, like we were led to believe she wanted to do earlier in the episode? Maybe. Is she comatose/unconscious? Maybe. It's just that, best I can tell, she does not take a breath during the shot which I feel had to be intentional on the part of Maggie Service, and she's in the same position as we last saw Sister Teresa in S1...

Then, there's the robbery theme and how Maggie and Nina foreshadow so much of the end of S2 back in this scene here:

In Good Omens, the shop is the character. Maggie is, symbolically, the records she sells. The show also explains that Maggie's shop used to be a part of the bookshop. Now, there are three characters, not two, who are A.Z. Fell & Co.: Aziraphale, Crowley and Maggie. At the same time, Aziraphale is also The Small Back Room. The shops are intertwined as the characters are, essentially, family in the story. The fate of one is the fate of the other, which makes what Maggie and Nina foreshadow when talking about Maggie's shop while trapped together in Nina's not just the fate of Maggie's shop in S2 but also of the bookshop.

Maggie says that if she can't close the door to her shop, someone could walk in and take records. Maggie is the records she sells so, symbolically, this means someone could take Maggie. We got a bit of a preview of that when Shax appeared to get into her mind during the attack on the bookshop and Maggie also became the one who unintentionally "let the robbers in."

These robbers, Maggie frets... they could empty her till-- take all her money on a literal level... take her mind, or maybe even her life, on another. (Not to mention the now chill-inducing use of money-related words and coins with regards to the paralleling Crowley...) These robbers could take forcible ownership of Maggie's shop-- so, of Maggie. Maggie's shop was born of the bookshop... so, they could take forcible ownership of the bookshop, too.

Not just the physical bookshop, though that, too. The symbolic bookshop. Which is not only Aziraphale but Crowley and Aziraphale.

But, if The Small Back Room was originally part of the bookshop, then the bookshop really isn't just Crowley and Aziraphale-- it's Crowley, Aziraphale and Maggie.

If the robbers come for the bookshop, they've also come for The Small Back Room because it is all born of the same, symbolic shop.

Is that what they did?

Is that why Maggie is last shown to us non-responsive in her shop?

Now, Nina's even more foreshadowing reply:

Nina said that, if she owned a record shop, she'd be more concerned about "someone breaking in and leaving more records behind."

What are records? They're the literal records in the musical and old film sense that Maggie sells, yes, and also Maggie herself. They're also books, like what Aziraphale sells, and Aziraphale himself. But they're also a third thing that's very much of note in S2.

They're also the life's work of a scrivener, like what Muriel does.

Nina foreshadows someone breaking in and leaving "more records behind"... which is exactly what happens in The Final 15.

Elspeth's graverobbing. Bildad stealing Job and Sitis' wine and food. The 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery. Aziraphale having the missing Shakespeare Robin Hood play in the box in 2.06. The robbery-based fantasy Aziraphale was telling Crowley in Lockdown: ...the other night, when a couple of young lads broke into the back and tried to steal the cash(cache)box!

The Final 15 is a robbery.

The last two episodes see the shop attacked during The Meeting Ball and into the next morning. Aziraphale is robbed blind of his entire life. Characters are taken hostage. Signals for help are tried and fail. The cop, it turns out, was a stooge for the robbers. Whoever Derek Jacobi Is Playing broke in through the open door and robbed the place blind, as Maggie foreshadowed. As Nina foreshadowed he would, what did the robber leave behind?

More records. Muriel.

To rob, as we know, is to steal. It's to plunder or strip a place from someone through force and/or violence. That is why it was once, in addition to being descriptive of physical goods stolen from a person, also a word that was used for rape, for which non-consensual possession has been analogous since the show's first episode. That is why some of us think that the music goes insane on the look to Crowley in the scene below. Satan is robbing Crowley-- forcing him to identify him as The Metatron to Aziraphale and the angels and to let Aziraphale go alone with him.

Satan attacked Crowley in front of Aziraphale and, while Aziraphale pretended he didn't see it, he did, which is why he led "The Metatron" straight out the door in an effort to get him away from Crowley. Because, speaking of characters behaving very weirdly... anyone have a better explanation for why guard dog Crowley sat in that chair like he couldn't get out of it and encouraged Aziraphale to go alone with a guy who once tried to kill them? It just doesn't make any sense unless his words are not really his own and there's only one character we've seen do that to him.

And if Crowley's not the only one behaving out of character, then what else happened to Maggie at the mini-mart but something similar?

What happened in The Final 15? Satan robbed the bookshop.

He and The Metatron don't give a toss about the shop itself and plan to destroy it alongside everything else once Armageddon gets rocking. They're there to get Crowley and Aziraphale out of the way for Armageddon by dividing and conquering. Just because we've yet to see blood doesn't mean this wasn't robbery by force.

Satan took hostages at the start-- letting the ones go he didn't care about go and keeping the ones most likely to influence the shop's owner: Crowley and Muriel.

Satan and The Metatron sacrificed Muriel to their plan, not caring if Muriel explodes along with the shop when they kick off Armageddon a matter of *checks watch* basically any minute now after S2. We think Muriel is better off in the shop at the end of S2 but I'm not totally sure they are. I think it actually might be one of the most dangerous places to be in right now. The bookshop didn't burn down this time-- it was burned as safe space in every possible way. It's a crime scene.

The Metatron and Satan are here for revenge. The Metatron is letting Satan have Aziraphale to get Crowley and Aziraphale out of the way for Armageddon. There is no real job offer-- it's all Satan tempting Aziraphale into falling. Satan's revenge on Crowley and Aziraphale is to force Crowley to help him take Aziraphale right out from under his nose. That's the start of it, anyway.

Besides Armageddon and daring to have a relationship and a sense of self outside of the demonic collective of Hell what is Satan really pissed at Crowley and Aziraphale about?

His kid. Adam. Crowley and Aziraphale helping Adam against him.

If Satan has been lying in wait, still very, very angry at Crowley and Aziraphale for turning his son against him and if he's now here for revenge, then who else besides Aziraphale is then most in peril here?

Yes, my Job-and-Sitis-paralleling poppet... your big, cross duck and your kids are most imperiled here and S2 showed us that your kids are not just humanity writ large but, specifically, Maggie. The Small Back Room is of the bookshop that is you and Crowley. Maggie is your Adam. Will Satan come after your daughter? It's a concept posed in your paralleling/foreshadowing story earlier in the season... actually, it was also the entire plot of that paralleling story earlier in the season as well...

I feel like not going with Ennon and Keziah's theories on Satan's behavior is probably the best way to form a Good Omens theory 😂 so I'll stick with the idea that Satan very much would dare leave a revenge body count of Crowley and Aziraphale's adopted kids, as the Job minisode proved he'd do even with the spawn of "God's favorite human", let alone anybody else.

As, speaking of foreshadowing lines, this is really even more S2 than it was about S1:

Satan will even have a whole pseudo-philosophical chat about it with you first, amused that he's standing in a place called Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death and ordering a coffee while the plan is likely for this place, the women making him the coffee, and everyone on this street and on most of the planet to be dead by tomorrow.

Maggie is the only character who actually asked for coffee using that exact word in S2.

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Wednesday wonderful readers. It's hard to believe we’re on 6x08 already. Thanks for hanging in there with me. 6x05-6x07 are not easy episodes emotionally. So appreciate you all reading these. 6x08 is an emotional ride all its own. This entire season is really. We get a beautiful moment at the end for our ship though. One that still makes me weepy. With the perfect song to go with it. So let's begin shall see?

6x08 Punch Card.

The ep name is punch card when it starts out with a punch to the heart. We see a reminder come up on Tim's phone. It’s about Lucy’s birthday *sad sigh* Not only a reminder but he has 'Birthday' in all caps. Wanted to make sure he didn’t forget. Also and this is just shippy conjecture... Was he did so he could do something special for her. That’s what that reminder represents to me. He quickly swipes it away and tries to swipe the feelings along with it. His sigh and tongue click has me emotional. It’s all through this episode we start to see the regret really begin to sink in for Tim .

I know people were upset he didn't seem as upset as Lucy in 6x07. Trust me that man is WRECKED. He showed signs last ep. But this episode marks the beginning of him truly showcasing all of that. Tim is starting to feel the immense loss he’s inflicted on himself. *phew* I wanna cry. Which has been a theme since 6x05. He is broken out of his emotional revere by the elevator opening. It’s Mad Dog and Blair. The tension is palpable in there but you’re not sure why. Only that something feels very off and wrong about the whole thing.

Tim is so caught up in his Lucy loss he doesn’t pick up on it. Had that reminder not come up he would’ve been sharper. His cop gut screaming out a bit more. But as of right now it's subdued with sadness. Kills me how he wants to rectify things with M.D. Breaks my heart really. He hurt more than just Lucy with his actions. Mad Dog is short with him and not in a place to receive these amends. Tim breaks my heart a little more when he watches him depart. Oh Timothy. He finally acknowledges Dr. London asking if she's getting off here? When she says she took the wrong elevator my red flag was going OFF.

Now comes the scene I know made everyone uncomfortable. I don't love it I'll be honest. But here’s my take on it. Last episode we talked about defense mechanisms a lot. What Tim and Lucy’s were. Why they use them. To me this scene right here is displaying Dr. London’s. I believe she uses flirting as her defense mechanism. They showed her flirting with Aaron at the bar in the recap for a reason. Side tangent about the recap. This will be a small detour to my point lol. They also showed the breakup again in the recap too. Hate that. I'll have PTSD from that scene for life. Like damn recap I don't need the reminder. Don't worry we haven't forgotten I promise you. It's seared in my memory for life thank you very much....

Anyways I think that scene at the bar with Aaron in the recap was to set up this scene. Very intentional of her manipulative flirting. Tim asks about Mad Dog which sets that in motion. So in order not to blow her cover she flirts with Tim. Under the guise of ‘Checking in on him.’ Turning it back around on him by asking how he felt seeing him? She’s doing this to shield herself and deflect further questions about what just happened. Tim is clearly upset and she takes advantage of it. It’s a mixture of the Lucy reminder and now seeing Mad Dog. The manifestation of two relationships he destroyed with his actions in 6x05-6x06.

So even though I don’t love this scene. I get the why and mechanics behind it if that makes sense. I know some people thought him replying back was flirty. I think he was just doing his own investigating. His gut kicking on in this moment. He’s clearly not comfortable with her trying to do therapy outside their sessions. Also his face when he exits the elevator tells me everything. It’s not of a man who flirted. It's one who’s is still deeply hurting. Also conflicted because his cop gut IS going off and he doesn’t know why…. He is feeling as off as we were about her.

We hop over to our girl in Grey’s office. Asking her how her new roommate is working out? That being Celina of course from the previous ep. Reason he’s asking is he needs her to ride with her today. Lucy is so adorable saying she’s not a T.O. though… This is where the scene gets real cute. Grey all but anoints her LOL Lucy’s face when he does is hilarious. Couldn't fit in but was very Lion King vibes up in here haha

Lucy continuing the adorableness asks if he can do that? Wade replying he is all powerful lmao I think this scene is great for a couple reasons. First off thank you Wade Grey for giving her a position of power and authority like this. If anyone has earned it it’s our girl. I also think this is really good for her self esteem. For him to trust her enough to give her a leadership opportunity is huge. Shouldn’t have taken this damn long honestly. But she has been very UC driven since S3.

Regardless I love this so much for her. To prove her leadership skills. To rebuild herself a bit post breakup. Lastly I think this moment is a wee bit of foreshadowing. With the time elapse, I’m sure is to come with the s7 premiere, she could be one by then. This is straight speculation. Since we don't know a damn thing bout s7. But I think it would be real good for her. She would be a superior teacher to new rookies. Far better than numb nuts Nolan…. Grey is MVP two eps in a row I will say.

Tim enters the chat immediately after. He’s so lost in trying to delete his reminder he doesn’t realize Lucy is there. That Lucy smile of his ever present. He literally can’t help it. Man is so damn gone for her. It oozes out of him whenever she is present. Ugh. My heart. Lucy almost returns it because she has for so many years prior. She stops herself midway and reminds her body she’s still mad at him. Tim tries to break the ice a little with his joke. Lucy doesn’t engage as much as he would like of course.

Still picking up the pieces of her broken heart my love. Also the awkwardness that still exists between them is ever present in this short scene. Couldn’t get away fast enough and Grey notices this of course. His reply of 'Wow.' saying it all. The way Tim watches her until she is out of sight *heart clutch* Just watching his entire heart walk out the station….Ain’t no thing…Doesn’t affect me at all. *sniffle* *phew* I’m fine.

This hurts no matter the time that has passed. Hate seeing them like this. I know with s7 in the works we are on the road to recovery. But until said recovery happens, these post breakup eps are gonna hurt like a SOB. There's no two ways about it. Even after they get back together these will still sting. Cause Eric and Melissa did an incredible job with these episodes. This short scene wrecking us shows us their skills. Elevating the material in a way only they can.

Grey notes how awkward that was. Tim telling him it’s better than it has been.... That’s not enough for Wade though. Honestly it shouldn’t be. That he need again to fix this ASAP. This will only continue to breed dysfunction. Which in turn will be a disaster for team cohesion. That he isn't going out that way as Watch Commander. Wade reminding him he NEEDS to work it out with Lucy.

Otherwise it’s going to force him to choose between them. Now you know I love my Tim. Love this man to death. Would fight anyone who knocks on him. But I friggin adore Grey choosing Lucy in this scenario. Tim caused this mess he either needs to clean it up. Or it’s time for him to go. Hurts my heart to write that but it's true. Even though he is senior officer, worked there longer, been under Wade longer it doesn’t matter. He will be the one shipped off. Taking her side is the right thing to do.

Makes me wanna cry the thought of him being sent away. I remember first time watched this it started a deep ache in my gut. One of massive anxiety. Of course it would be friggin North Hollywood. That damn station been haunting them since s2. Just looming overhead ready to take one of them. Almost happened in 5x12 too. Anyways does my heart good he sides with Lucy in this matter. This is Tim’s mess to fix and no one else’s.

Lucy meets up with Celina and asks if she’s ok with this? Ever the amazing empath our girl. Celina looks psyched as hell to have Lucy. How could she not be? Wealth of knowledge to give her in a kind but commanding way. Getting to see Lucy show off her leadership skills is making me giddy. On a solo character level was my fav part of the ep. (Clearly not counting the Chenford stuff)

Her leadership style is right there with mine. Where I am 90 percent Tim her being a T.O. Is all me. Her style is pretty damn identical to mine. Telling her she wants to ‘Invest in her success.’ Is me all damn day. Thats all I ever wanted for my team. For them to see I was investing in them and there to make them better. It’s cute how excited Celina is for this. Hell of an upgrade from the bumbling bone head she usually has.

The Aaron and Tim show begins and I’m here for it. I’ve always enjoyed their dynamic. Aaron pushing Tim a little more than most would. We know Lucy has softened him to the point where he doesn’t kill Aaron. ha Asking why he has to be the one to be in uniform and not Tim? Lmao Because you are the rookie dearest haha These two are goobers together and I love it sfm. You can tell he is dying to ask Tim if he is struggling right now. Because he went from QB to water-boy for Metro.

Like I said earlier it’s really starting to hit Tim the relationships he fractured. The regret is coming at him from all sides in this one. First Lucy and now this. Aaron can’t help it and asks anyway even though he shouldn’t. Tim gives him the company line of course. Pulling some S1 Tim out in this van. Telling him he does what he’s told without complaint. Ok babe yes, but that doesn’t mean it’s not upsetting you….

He went from running this entire team. Making calls on the fly to this. Boring grunt work. Tim bounces back with his sassy comment about his deodorant. I’m cackling because Aaron’s reaction is so damn funny. He gets so distracted by this he doesn’t write anything down. Tim’s face when he asks why isn’t documenting this is so funny. The most Aaron thing he could do. Be derailed by Tim's comment and not pay attention. Oh I will miss you Aaron Thorsen.

I am enjoying Lucy’s teaching so much. Partly because it reflects how I teach. She corrects without crushing her confidence. She also does it afterwards as not to ding her confidence in the moment. Exact reflection of what I used to do for my work kids. Lucy is kind but confident in her correction. Doing it in the moment so it sticks, but waiting till after they’re done for her to properly receive it. Celina receives it well because even though it’s one she is told in a kind manner. I just love it sfm.

The other reason I love it is because Lucy is out here crushing it. Zero T.O. Training but picking it up like she’s been doing it for years. She is going off instinct and what she would’ve wanted as a rookie. I had zero training when I was told to train new hires as a manager. So I went based off my experience and what I would’ve loved to know when I was new. So her tactics are very similar to me and makes me happy to see it.

Already light years ahead of Nolan it’s insane. Tim would be so proud of her if he could see it. We all know how seriously he takes training new officers. The sacred duty that it is and needs to be treated as such. Lucy is doing all that and more. Feels like more foreshadowing for her to become one in s7. Would crack me up if she got one of the new ones and Tim got the other. They could compare and contrast their leaderships styles. See who does better. But I’m daydreaming with that ha

Tim’s phone goes off again. Reminding him once again Lucy’s birthday is tomorrow. Tim is hit with a double gut punch in this moment. First grunt work for Metro then Lucy loss as the second one. Aaron noting he must’ve set it quite a few times... Which is heart breaking to think of in this moment. It is sweet he set it up so many times so he wouldn’t forget it. I think pre-breakup Tim didn’t want to lose track of this important day.

Also my guess is he wanted to make a big deal of it too. Their days are unpredictable so makes sense he would set so many. That’s pure conjecture on my part. But watching him through out their relationship this lines up. Seeing how he doted on her and brought her thoughtful gifts. He was most definitely going to do that. Like I said earlier this ep is starting to reflect the cracks in his foundation.

His facade of pretending to be okay after their breakup is starting to fade. The fact that he says ‘Girl you broke up with.’ Not his ex is speaking volumes to me. It’s starting to dawn on him truly what he’s lost and done. Because you would say ex if it was something to move on from. The regret is starting to seep in and breaks my heart to watch it. But also it’s good to see him feeling it. Now that’s he’s regulated and going to therapy, his clarity on what he’s done is coming up for air. It’s weighing on him, and we can see that clearly in this scene.

This next part really gets me in the feels. Tim asks if he got her anything? Being vulnerable for the first time in their convo. Look at that puppy in the first couple gifs. Aaron tells him yes. A spa day at the Four Seasons. It’s the smile here that gets me. Even thinking about Lucy brings about that smile of his. The one that only comes up around her or about her. He knows exactly how much his girl is gonna love that. Enjoy it. Also thinking how much she deserves such a gift.

The smile has me reeling. He just loves her so much. He can’t help but do that in love smile when he thinks about her. *screams into a pillow* Then his smile ends with sadness. Eric be killing me for a 4th ep in a row. We watch the smile tail off with a tinge of sadness. Because he’s not going to see how happy that gift makes her. How she would’ve dragged him along with her most likely. It’s really hitting him he’s lost her. Lost access to that part of her life now.

The happiness to heartbreak in that smile is masterful on Eric’s part. Just look at him in that last gif. I was feeling all that from his smile. It’s subtle but impactful as hell. Eric and Melissa’s speciality at breaking our hearts. Especially this season. His reaction is screaming how much he still loves her. Carrying the burden of what he’s done is becoming more and more evident. Mourning the loss of what he hastily threw away. Hurts so good. Maybe they’ll be together by her next bday and he can make up for it. A girl can dream right?

The boys share a nice moment and I love it. Aaron pushes it with his final question though. You can see him drawing up the courage to ask Tim. Wanting to know what everyone wants to know. Why they split up? Tim’s reply cracking me up. He is as sharp and curt as can be. No more emotion left in his tone. ‘No’ LMAO Vulnerable Tim is gone now. Took it too far Aaron...

The balls on you sir to ask that my god. Lucy doesn’t even know why. You sure as hell aren’t going to get that answer…Honestly you’re lucky you got Tim as vulnerable as you did good sir. But gotta love him trying and failing super hard. Makes a bittersweet scene end on a funny note that made me chuckle.

This scene with Mad Dog hurts my heart. Tim is facing the repercussions of his actions so hard in this episode. From both barrels of Metro and Lucy. It’s good for him to feel and see what he’s done. That doesn’t mean it does hurt me to watch it. I’m still protective of him even though it’s what he needs to see and experience...

My worry was something like this happening. Working with Metro was going to reopen a wound that’s hasn't even begun to heal. We know what happens with M.D. later. So, a part of this is projection is because he knows he’s walking his guys into a trap somewhat. Worried Tim is going to find him out through his OP plan. That being said doesn’t make it easier to watch him dismantle Tim.

I will say it is yummy to see him in street clothes and jeans. That badge prominently on his hip. Mmmm gimme. Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t gawk at him a little would it? Also haven’t done it in a minute due to the non stop heartbreak since 6x05.

The OP goes sideways in the worst way. They’re ambushed and his guys end up in the hospital. Nash is in surgery due to the explosion. Tim comes to see Mad Dog and it feels all kinds of off. He’s expecting Tim to flog him for what he’s done. That his OP lead his men into danger. Almost as if he wants Tim to reprimand me for what he’s done. But he’s in the dark to what’s going on so Tim can’t possibly do as such.

Tim’s cop gut is kicking into high gear during this scene though. Between M.D. acting completely different post OP and his reaction to Blair appearing. Tim questioning how in the hell she even knew about this? She comes up with a pretty slick answer that pacifies Tim for now. But it’s seeing Mad Dogs reaction that has his red flag going up.

He can barely look at Blair in the eye. Tim noticing and bringing it up. M.D. plays it off as being tired. That he doesn’t want to talk about his feelings right now. Tells Tim they shot him full of painkillers. He’s gonna shut down for awhile. Tim understands and doesn’t linger. I remember knowing at this point she was dirty. But could also see the internal struggle going on inside her. Which intrigued me to why she was dirty in the first place? All things to come in later eps...

Now comes the best part of the entire episode. One that we all still think about. How could we not? Eric and Melissa were once again surprised how much we loved this scene. What’s not love? What's not lose our minds over? Return of Kojo, the song that is utter perfection, and the fact that Tim reached out through him to say Happy Birthday. Makes me teary just thinking about it. I'll never be over this scene. How it felt like a true start to healing our shipper hearts. Because they've been in ROUGH shape for awhile.

We all needed this moment. After such utter heartbreak and turmoil the last 3 episodes. This was like coming up for air for the first time to truly breathe. Melissa killing us right off the bat. Her face was all of us in this moment. The way she lights up when she sees Kojo. Their cute fur-baby just sitting in the hallway with a card in his mouth. I’m not crying you are... Also makes me giggle a little thinking how Tim had to run from the door after he knocked. To make sure only Kojo was there. It's the sweetest thing. *happy sigh*

Killing me softly with how she pets him. Asking how he is. Telling him she misses him. Just like Tim in the van her smile morphs. It goes from happiness to sadness. Because Kojo is an extension of Tim. Her saying she misses him is having a double meaning here. Despite all the hurt Tim caused her she misses him so much.

It’s reflected in how she is loving on Kojo. Her words have an extra meaning to them. Of course she misses her fur-baby. But she also misses her person. A piece of her heart is missing with him gone. This scene has me teary from beginning to end. We missed this good boy so much. Such a tearjerker of a moment when she reunites with him.

When Kojo takes off back to Tim it’s like watching a part of her heart go along with it. Knowing where he is running back to. The ache in her heart that is still there. She knows he’s in that hallway. It's bittersweet because even broken up she brings the best out in Tim. This wonderful gesture is due to how he’s grown because of her. If you weren't crying in this moment you're dead inside lol I'm sorry.

Tim wrecks me with how he’s looking toward that same hallway. He can only imagine what her reaction is. Hoping it's a good one. That what he's done here is having a positive effect on her. It is. What a way to bring this sweet boy back in. They really killed it with this scene. I love Tim keeping his distance. Respecting her space in this moment. But knowing he couldn’t let her b-day go without acknowledging it. This was the best way to do it.

Also the fact that this is happening in that hallway. One that represents so many seminal moments for them. I just wanna sob at the beautiful symbolism of this. You can see the regret building on Tim’s face once again. The distance he can feel between them. It's like he’s finally grasping what he’s done. The regrets he feels starting to truly mount in this moment.

Melissa’s reactions after Kojo leaves are absolutely killing me. The tears in her eyes as she picks up the card. Evoking so much emotion out of me just watching her. This is where the lyrics had me bawling. Because it so perfectly represents Lucy in this moment.

"When the sun won't shine and the words don't rhyme And there's mountains you can't move.

Something's on your mind And it's been some time since you felt like you were you.

When it all caves in, feeling paper thin And the pain might cut right through. "

This has been Lucy since the end of 6x06. Hell it was the fandom. The sun has not shined since that day for her. She hasn’t felt like herself in what feels like eons. Her pain feeling so very paper thin. The smallest thing cutting right though her. What happened between them rocked Lucy to her very core. She’s still sitting in the pain of it all. Him giving up on them so easily is haunting her. Probably wondering if he loved her as much as she loved him? Those intrusive thoughts running on an endless loop in her brain since it happened.

“When you feeling like you ain't got a friend, And you wondering' if you ever gonna' smile again. Every little things gonna be okay.” This one getting me in the feels as well. Another perfect reflection of how Lucy is feeling. I know what it’s like to feel this way. Alone in your pain. Wondering if you’re ever gonna smile again. Be happy. It seems so far off. These lyrics were so perfectly poignant. They were very intentional in using this song. As much as these lyrics made me cry they also filled me with hope and comfort. Particularly the line in that last lyric. That everything is going to be ok. If you haven’t downloaded this song. I highly it recommend it. 'Lift Up Your Head. by Esabalu'

What makes the rest of this moment so beautiful are the following gifs. Lucy opening that card and seeing what Tim has done for her. This is also the first time we’ve seen Lucy cry about them. And it hurts like hell to watch. Like I said she’s been sitting in this pain. Wondering if this relationship meant more to her than it did Tim. Then he does this. Acknowledges her birthday in the perfect way. It does a couple things. One it shows he wanted to make sure this day didn’t pass without him acknowledging it. That’s he’s thinking about her.

Two it shows Lucy he stills cares about her. The gift in itself shows the level of care. He’s reaching out to her without physically doing so. I mean the effort he put into this is immense. He was so creative and thoughtful. Having it come from Kojo and not himself. Executing the perfect delivery on-top of it as well. The way she touches the paw print has me bawling. Just mopping up my tears at this point. Knowing what this card meant. What it represented. Lucy no doubt has been torturing herself still about why it ended.

How he didn’t care for her the way she did for him. She really needed this. Because it shows it has nothing to do with Tim's feelings for her. You don’t put this kind of effort in if you don’t still love someone. Her reaction is the second gif screams that. Lucy still doesn’t understand why. But she can rest little easier knowing it wasn’t about his feelings for her. This shows her he still cares deeply for her. Man owes her a conversation still but this was a beautiful start towards that. Towards healing.

Tim’s face KILLS me. I think the writers intentionally wrote him to come off as if he wasn’t as affected. That this breakup wasn’t killing Tim. When it absolutely was. He needed time to regulate and some therapy to get here. Also it makes this scene hit a little harder doesn’t it? That man’s face above is one of absolute regret. It’s truly hitting him what he’s done to her. Eric once again murdering my feels. They both are.

You can see the myriad of emotions splayed across his beautiful face. It’s here he’s finally grasping what he’s thrown away. Knowing he should be there right now. Celebrating her birthday along side her. That bath bomb she mentions earlier in the scene should be been shared together. This hurts so good. I commend them for the buildup to this moment. We needed that episode previous to get to this point.

For Tim to finally feel the regrets raining down on him right now. That is the face of a man who knows he ruined everything. Fucked up a perfectly wonderful relationship. Destroyed his happiness and hers. Hurt his favorite person in the process of his spiral. It's killing him he can’t be there for her like he used to be. Shut that door when he tossed them away. As much as this moment hurts it's huge step towards reconciliation. Tim coming to the realization of how he’s hurt her and the regret he feels due to it.

Also only Eric and Melissa could have SO MUCH chemistry and not even been in the same room. These final two gifs say it all in that regard my god. You can feel the anguish and emotion between them. Just emanating from them and to each other. I love our ship. I love the actors we are blessed to have portray them. Look at our beautiful babies above. Their on screen chemistry leaves me in awe of them. They aren't even sharing the same space and are exuding chemistry. These final lyrics of this song left me with so much hope.

“All these troubles only gonna last for a while

Yeah, we're gonna be alright, oh, child, lift up your head (yeah, the light, yeah, the light's gonna find you)

And the light's gonna find you”

These troubles are only gonna last for awhile fandom. This season felt like an eternity of pain after 6x05 but we’re gonna be alright. S7 is gonna be that light I just know it. Gonna be worth all this pain and heartache. When we're on the other side of it gonna be so much better. We are so lucky are babies get to be front and center and get these growth SL's. Have depth like they do. I'll take that over blah puddle deep Balian any day. S6 hurt so much. But this too shall pass it'll pass like a kidney stone but it'll pass for us.

Our beautiful moment is interrupted by a text from Mad Dog. He’s asking Tim to come find him to talk. They’re on a roof and that immediately made me nervous. Mad Dog tells Tim one of their guys Nash is paralyzed… I mean this adds to M.D's guilt. To why he ends up killing himself later in this scene. Tim tries to comfort him and let him know it could be temporary. This is where his confession starts. Saying it wasn’t supposed to go down like it did. It never does when you dirty like that…Tim asks him if he compromised the OP?

Tim is in absolute shock as he asks this of his former brother in arms. This is a hard scene to watch. Tim is seeing a man he used to trust his life with be revealed as dirty. That he was compromised. What a gut punch for him. I know Tim struggles with his mistakes still. But the difference being is his were always with the best intentions. He may not see that yet but his honor was always intact with them. His good intentions still present. Tim asked who he told? We all know at this point even Tim does but he needs confirmation. M.D. replies he can’t tell him. She knows all his secrets….Ugh.

Then he kills himself. Last thing this poor man needed was to see this. I do think it’s an interesting parallel to Tim. Why you ask? This could’ve been Tim if had ZERO honor. Zero integrity and moral compass. Had no one there to help support him. What he sees with his mistakes as being un-honorable was never this. M.D. is a person without the fortitude Tim has. It’s why he was turned and can’t live with himself after. I hate it being Dr. London I really do. But if not for her sessions how he reacts after this could’ve been so much worse than it was. His face when he looks over the edge is a knife to my heart...

Thank you once again to you all for reading, liking, commenting (Keep em coming I love them.) and reblogging these reviews. They mean the world to me. I shall see you all in 6x09 :)

Side notes-Non Chenford

Blair being crooked SUCKS. No two ways about it. I fought the idea so hard when the season was happening. Not because I liked her but because of Tim and Aaron too of course. But at this point it was for Tim. He had been vulnerable with her. Started therapy because of her and I was really worried that would be tainted.

Nothing really other than that just Nolan and he doesn't matter lol

[elsecrytt]

gojo only ever being needed and not wanted broke my hearttt noooo. i just love gojo x mundanity so so much. all he wants in life is a quiet peaceful life with someone who just sees him without his six eyes. there will always be something so bittersweet about that mostly cuz he'll never allow himself to have that life completely:/

i've seen that one post going around that's like "“if i cannot be wanted, i will be needed and if i cannot be needed, let me be used until there’s nothing left of me” and although i don't think gojo is actually that self-sacrificing, i do see a bit of him in there.

like, we know for sure he treasures "youth" and in particular his own "youth" very deeply. we see the s2 opening with him in high school with geto and the other students, doing just regular things, looking genuinely happy and having tons of fun.

gojo used to smile and laugh with people. people who were his peers. and maybe that was mostly possible because they were peers then, instead of him being the pinnacle of sorcerer society. when kenjaku shows up he gets a minute-long internal flashback of all those old times. it meant a lot to him.

on the other hand, though, gojo is absolutely a bit of a bully deep down. he was still a jerk sometimes in high school (though he DID have a good heart - hence the thing with riko) and he clearly has fun when he's fighting curses lol. he takes a lot of joy in his power, and why wouldn't he? it's kinda all he's got going for him. self-fulfilling prophecy and all.

ngl a bunch of the lines in that piece came from this yandere!gojo wip that's still in the drafts. basically gojo wants a non-sorcerer to play house with and he's ecstatic about this whole "relationship building" thing. he has no hobbies bc everything is easy for him, but his personality - and the circumstances - make winning your love an actual challenge that he can have fun with.

but internally his logic is actually kinda sad and understandable. gojo is worried he'll go insane like geto did. lose all sympathy for regular people, and for other sorcerers, too - maybe his own students.

and if gojo loses it, who's going to stop him?

if gojo loses it, and gives up on humanity like geto did, then what was the point of killing geto in the first place?

that can't happen if he has a non-sorcerer lover. and honestly? i do think gojo genuinely does like people, in the general sense. he likes getting specialty sweets and playing baseball. he takes his students out for meals. the memories we see of his youth? him in the arcade, walking home from school, eating out with his friends.

i think he likes ordinary, mundane things a lot, even if he loves the other parts of his life. he probably loves bugging baristas and fast food employees and passerbys in his life. he is lonely at the top, but with regular people, he can pretend he isn't.

it's tragic, but in a way, it's also an issue of his own making. i don't buy gojo's whole "you can admire a blooming flower, but you can't ask it to understand you" crap. gojo, loneliness and isolation are a part of the human condition. you are NOT the first or only person who feels this way. i'm optimistic that he could get through it if he tried... if gege didn't have it out for him LMAO

[writing-whump]

Inspired by your answer to my last question could you write a fic where Isaiah is like feeling really bad (maybe a really high fever that makes him delirious) with hector as the caretaker taker and he accidentally calls him mom?

If you feel like this doesn’t fit currently in the timeline I’ll wait.

And if you don’t want to write it no hard feelings.

Way too sick

Isaiah sick with a raging fever part 2. Hector as main caretaker. This was such a great prompt, I loved it on the first sight! Just needed to get to a good point, lol.

Isaiah was dizzy.

Everything was twirling, the bathroom tiles creating a nauseating colourful collage.

His stomach wasn't just cramping. No, there were pauses between cramps. This was more like switching between more painful teeth grinding cramps, those that forced up more stomach acid up his throat and those that just made him curl up and take them quietly.

He was tired. His arms didn't hold, his neck didn't hold and everything was so cold and uncomfortable. The wall against his back, the porcelain bowl in front of him digging into his arms. His knees were getting numb from being folded over them for so long.

Isaiah had this thing where he could zone out when the real world became too painful. He learned it during training with father, kept him sane.

He couldn't tell where he was of what day it was. So he retreated into the back of his mind. No point in panicking. This surely had an explanation.

He just had to hold out until it got better. It always did. That's what a wolf's sturdy healing body was for. Taking pain.

What did they plan for holidays? They should go somewhere, it was too warm in Vienna in summer. He should read more poems. They were very meditative and he could always stop and mule over words in times like these...

Something cold on his cheek made him blink. His senses returned to him, swarming him back with nauseating precision. It made him gag immediately, stomach muscles slamming against his ribs.

Hector was there, leaning next to him. "Hey, easy, easy. Deep breaths."

"What-" he gulped, trying to make his scratchy throat to work. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here, duh," Hector huffed at him, amber brown eyes unusually close to Isaiah's face. He could see all the honey and brown hues swiling inside.

Isaiah was even more confused, but his head felt too floaty to decipher the meaning. He slumped to the side, Hector quickly catching him, hand around his shoulders. "Yeah, this is way too high. Arnie get the bath going- Yeah, mild temp not too cold- He would get into a shock-"

Isaiah felt Hector's massive frame underneath him and let go even further. Everything hurt. Hector was too cold and too edgy to lie against.

"I'll give you 'edgy'," Hector grumbled, both hands around Isaiah as he dragged him upward. "Let's not wait, we can start with a shower and wait until the bathtub is full."

Isaiah must have been floating, cause the walls and the ground disappeared as Hector lifted him up. That was nice. Less things to dig into him.

Getting into the bathtub under the freezing water was less nice. He struggled against the strong arms, trying to get out, but Hector pinned him down into a sitting position. "Oi, oi, oi, stop it. Stay still."

Isaiah didn't want to stay still. He was missing a shirt and trembling with the cold. Water was rapidly filling the bathtub and he still had his pants on and Hector was pushing him down - was he trying to drown him?

Isaiah trashed around, trying to get away. What was this? Did Hector finally lose patience, wanting to get rid of him for his betrayal? Did father order this and Hector listened? Did the pack decide this and Hector was executing their will?

Suddenly there was Arnie, both his hands on Isaiah's cheeks. Saying something. Isaiah tried to focus on his little brother's pale face, green eyes wide withe emotion. Lie still, lie still, lie still.

Arnie wouldn't be angry at Isaiah. He wouldn't listen to father or the pack, cause he never listened to anyone. No, Arnie was here so it meant he was safe.

Isaiah relaxed, falling back against the water. Another pair of hands were holding him up, so he wouldn't sink.

***

Hector worked mechanically. 10 minutes in the cold bath. They needed new clothes. He send Arnie to get some of his old ones. T-shirt and boxers, so Isaiah wouldn't be too warm.

He didn't have time to freak out. Isaiah would drown himself if he did.

Hector helped him out of the bathtub, then the pants and socks, drying him up with the towel. Isaiah was too out of it to be scared this time, eyes completely unfocused.

When they got him into the bed, clean and relatively dry, Arnie went to get more of wet towels to wrap around him. That's when Hector let himself slump against the side wall.

Hector knew Isaiah had a lot of forgiving him to do. That Hector needed to win his trust back.

Arnie never gave up on Isaiah the way Hector did. Arnie never doubted him the way Hector did. Never hated him the same way.

Of course that would leave scars. Hector expected- maybe ignored it willfully? Was it not good they didn't talk it over?

The thing was, Hector was sure if they started to talk, they would argue. On the surface they were very different and would disagree on bunch of stuff - from pack size, training regiments to what school was useful and how a wolf should act. But he felt like their hearts were connected. That they both felt how much the other cared.

Hector felt rejected for so long, but it was all an illusion. Isaiah always cared. He looked like he didn't because he cared so much. And Arnie always believed in him with that blind devotion of his.

The only one in the wrong was Hector.

But he never felt so useless and so distrusted as at that moment in the bathtub. Where Isaiah, feverish, out of control, logic and reason fried away, looked at him - recognised him - and trashed in terror.

There was a hollow pit forming in his stomach. Hector buried his hands in his hair, pulling at the strands.

He felt do disgusted with himself he just wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

***

Isaiah's breathing was all wrong. Too fast and erratic.

Hector went closer, despite himself. He put a hand over Isaiah's forehead gently.

The fever was a lot better after the bathtub, but now it was climbing again. He opened the window and readjusted the wet towels around Isaiah's ankles and wrists.

His heartbeat was too fast too. Like a small terrified bird, beating in his chest, trying to come out.

Isaiah's stomach gave a loud gurgle, a bubble of air coming up in a soundless burp. His face scrunched up in pain. "Ugh."

"Hey." Hector was torn. He felt incredibly protective, seeing Isaiah this helpless and out of it. He wanted to be close. To guard him, to hold him.

But he also felt like he was too close, too much. That he should get the fuck away if Isaiah could get scared of him.

Arnie told him about what their eldest brother said about stress stomachache that prevented him from realizing he was getting sick. Sobbed himself to sleep right after in the living room, when cleaning it up.

Tonight was really brutal.

Isaiah rolled to his side, face still a mask of pain. He opened his eyes blearily. Then he was heaving, before he could even lift himself up on shaky arms.

Hector sprung up to help him lean over the wet towel at his side, so he wouldn't choke. Isaiah heaved and heaved, but only a clear string of bile came up.

He fell back in exhaustion, breathing all ragged. "Ow, that hurt."

"You are running on empty, man." Hector quickly retracted his hands away, leaning back against the wall.

Isaiah didn't move, but his eyes slowly turned towards Hector. He lifted his hand clumsily to rub against his chest. "Hurtssss."

"Your chest?"

"My hand."

"Hand?" Hector leaned closer in surprise.

Isaiah reached his right hand over to him as if he expected him to see an injury. "Ow."

"Did you hit it in the bathroom or something?"

"No. Broken. More places. Last week."

Hector braced himself against the bed to inspect the hand. It looked completely alright to him. Maybe echoes of the pain? "You are fine now, Zaya, I promise."

"Hurts."

"Okay, you know what?" Hector grabbed one of the wet towels from Isaiah's left ankle and wrapped the hand carefully inside. "Like this. It will get cooled down, is that better?"

Isaiah made a satisfied noise at the back of his throat and gingerly put his hand back against his side. "Thanks."

"Anything else?" Hector said, a little amused at the whining. He had never seen Isaiah like this.

"Head's killing me," Isaiah said with a pitiful frown.

"Go figure. You were puking your guts out for over an hour nonstop." Hector reached for the glass with the rehydration solution Arnie made in preparation. "Think you could manage a few sips of this? Would help a ton with the headache."

Isaiah eyed it wearily. "Can't get up."

"True," Hector said with a sigh. "I'll get you a straw, just wait a minute."

He rumbled through some drawers until he found the colour straws Arnie collected. They never drank alcohol at home or outside, since Hector hated it, but Arnie liked drinking juices and sweet drinks with cool cocktail glasses and straws.

Isaiah didn't change positions until Hector returned, sitting down at the edge of the bed. He helped Isaiah to lean forward a bit to catch the straw between chapped lips and take a two slow careful sips. "There. Careful. If you keep it down, I will give you more." He eased him back to bed, sliding away from it immediately as well.

"Uhm..." Isaiah blinked, eyelids falling heavily.

"Get some more sleep."

"Why are you...so far away?"

Hector scowled then chuckled. He was a hand away, not wanting to crowd Isaiah after the bathroom thing...but the words made something fluttery and heartwarming flood his chest. The blond wolf shifted closer.

Isaiah wiggled out his left hand towards him, fingers outstretched. His eyes looked so much like Arnie’s when he looked up.

Hector clasped his hand with a sigh. "Here. All close, not going anywhere. Sleep."

***

Hector expected the worst to be over after the little whiny, but somewhat coherent episode.

No such luck.

The fever went up again, making Isaiah gasp and shake in his sleep like a leaf.

Hector threw the covers over him at one point, when his teeth started to chatter audibly but Isaiah was kicking them away soon after.

He had to change the shirt he sweat through two times. There was a constant sheen of perspiration on his forehead and neck. A battle Hector wasn't about to lose, wiping it away.

In-between, Hector held Isaiah’s hand, trying to anchor him. The sick wolf trashed around, but the hold calmed him.

When Isaiah turned his head with a whimper, a crease between his eyes, Hector dared to lean closer. He massages the frown gently with his forefinger and thumb, the way he would do for Arnie with a particularly bad migraine.

Isaiah's face relaxed after and he slept a little less fitfully.

It was around 4 in the morning, when Isaiah's eyes opened again. Hector slept in bounds of 20 minutes tops, checking on him, shifting and waking with every little sound or roll.

Isaiah's eyes were open, two big endless pools of dark green. There was something different about them this time. Too smooth and dark, like his pupil wasn't there.

"Mom?"

Hector gasped for breath. The word felt like a punch against his ribs.

"I feel really sick," Isaiah rasped, his look all dull and vacant. "Don't think I can get up."

Hector wanted to let go of Isaiah's hand, flinching away like it burned, but the other man held on to it with surprising force. "Mom. You gotta tell Hex...tell Hex and Arnie not to play in my room, okay? I don't want them to catch this."

His eyes closed again and he let out a quiet whimper. "Dad's gonna be disappointed I can't train with him today. Will you say I'm sorry?"

For better or for worse, Hector couldn't find his voice. He just sat there rigidly, while Isaiah dug his fingers into his hand.

"I was really looking forward to it..."

"Shhhh," Hector managed, brushing the sweaty hair out of Isaiah's forehead.

Isaiah let out a shaky breath, before it evened out.

Hector held his hand all tight for another half an hour, hot little tears dripping onto the sheets.

[d8tl55c]

oh boy !! ! ! ! !!! ! thANK y0u all for the kind words on my last art posts. you all get it and i was/still am so happy about it

as promised, here's some close-ups of the comic for image quality's sake, and other screenshots i rescued from the community whiteboard (and something else)

first up another sketch of mystery gender-ambiguous being. (please send me more name ideas for them if you got one- i like to hear em! (reminder it's the side character that appeared for <10 seconds in AvM Ep. 30))

a few fav scenes

emotional support cwab

they weren't meant for this purpose exactly, but i do have countless "fluffy sticks" loose in my notes and homework sheets from the school years.

papery critter.

even when i wasn't confident in fur or feathers, they helped me practice posing and create some satisfying gradients/flowing poses. (im a sucker for good tail poses) (oh yay! i found a good pic...)

and finally, little sneak peak for you for reading so far ;3

i realized that whiteboardfox is pretty great for my working needs. simple and to the point and all. feels nice with the mouse and the tablet.

so i started hashing out a big project idea just to see if it holds up and

[

several hours later ...

]

oh

oh man

it's a little bigger than i expected

<next>