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#but as i said.... hope they will learn from it and know what to do and dont next time
envy-of-the-apple · 2 days
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Fun Sized
Dark!Fairy!Gojo Satoru x reader
Word Count: 2k
Synopsis: You save a tiny fairy. Gojo Satoru decides that you and him belong together, regardless of how little he is and how little you think of him. 
(Warnings: Yandere, not many warnings in this one ngl)
The fae are a dangerous bunch. You've heard more than enough stories to be spooked. Sirens will sing beautiful songs before dragging you into the depths. Dragons will burn you to a crisp before a second's thought. Nagas would make sure you were alive until the very end as they feast on your organs. Centaurs would use their powerful legs to stomp yours to mere twigs. Driders would suck your blood until there's nothing left but a husk of your body. 
You've never heard anything about fairies. They didn't live in your region. Their lands were high in the mountains, where humans rarely traveled. Also, they were so tiny, according to the books. The biggest seemed to be barely the size of your hand. They were harmless, you concluded. Harmless to humans. Harmless to you. 
He had been harmless. At first, you thought it was a cluster of leaves in the stream, but as the current drew it closer, you noticed tiny arms and a tiny face. He was unconscious; you didn't even know if the poor thing was alive. 
The Fae are a dangerous bunch, but saving one tiny fairy couldn't hurt, right? 
Your guest quickly proved to be a bigger hassle than you initially thought. 
When you brought him to your cottage, he laid in a basket of warm linen, asleep for hours near the warm fireplace. The blueberry pie was still hot when you turned around and caught him staring at you. 
It was silent for a while, and then you said: 
"Do you like sweets?" 
That's how your tentative friendship with the other kind started. Gojo Satoru (you later learned his name) was a boisterous thing. He did in fact like sweets, which helped bribe his friendship. You're surprised that he ate so much despite his stature. Did all faires have black holes for stomachs? 
He healed up rather quickly. At first, you were afraid that his wings had crumbled due to the prolonged exposure to water. But after stuffing himself full of the blueberry syrup, he smiled widely before flitting out your window. 
You thought that would be the end of it, but then he just came coming back. 
Apparently, your baking skills left an impact on the small creature. He didn't visit often, but when he did, you would always make sure you had something. Whether it be cookies, brownies, or that blueberry pie he was so fond of. Anything was good enough for Gojo's taste palette. 
"In the fae lands," Gojo said when you prodded, "sweets are too sweet. Yours is just enough."  You weren't too sure what he meant by that, but you took it as a compliment. You were sure the fae wasn't something who'd give praises so easily. 
It's not like you were upset at providing food for your tiny friend. Quite the contrary. You loved it when Gojo visited. You found him fascinating, the way he could fly miles and miles above your head. How tiny he was. The amount of times you had to hold yourself back from squishing him between your fingers because of how cute he was scared you. 
And you hoped you were fascinating enough to entertain Gojo. You had to be; you don't know why else he'd keep coming back. Even after gobbling down your cooking, he'd lounge around your home, entertaining you with his stories. You learned of the other magical creatures he was in contact with, the students he taught, and how fond he was of them. You don't know why he was so open about sharing his personal life with you, in the stories fae hated humanity, but you would never complain. 
It doesn't click as to why Gojo's so invested in you until he comes out and says it himself. 
"Instead of me coming back and forth like this, why don't you just come live with me?" He says, "I would cut down my flying time by a lot." 
You stare at him in amusement, sure he's joking. "I'm not sure how I'd fit in your house." You tease. "I'd probably crush all your furniture." 
"I can make my house bigger." He announces. "Don't worry 'bout it, just say yes." 
You stare at him, slowly realizing that he isn't as amused. He's still smiling, but there's no joke. 
"No," you finally say, "I'm not doing that." 
He cocks his head surprised as though he's never had someone reject him before. 
"What?" He asks, "Why not?"
"Well." You clear your throat. "For one, I'm human, and you're a fairie. I don't think Fae would appreciate a human wandering around in their lands." 
"Who cares about all that?" Gojo waves his hands around. "You'll be with me, anyways. It'd be fine." 
"I don't get why you're so fixated on the human realm." His mouth turns into a sneer. "It's all so boring. Nothing ever happens. And our magic is much more advanced than yours." It's true. You can't disagree with that. Satoru didn't wear clothes made out of leaves or vines, unlike the common fairy stereotype. His clothing looked much more advanced compared to your loose cotton dresses. A black shirt with intricate buttons and long sleeves. Along with black trousers. You wonder what material could make his suit so shiny. 
You laugh at his disgust. At that time, you saw Gojo as a tiny child clutching their mother's skirts, a cute puppy. You hadn't yet taken Gojo Satoru as the threat he was. 
"It's because I am human." You say, not offended by his remarks. "So I like being near other humans." 
He groans as though your logic makes no sense. "Yuji and the others ask about you all the time, though. They've been dying to meet you." 
"You talk to your students about the giant that cooks for you? I'm flattered." 
"You're dodging," he warns. You roll your eyes. 
"Satoru, I'm not coming to live with you. It'd be too much of a hassle." You finally say. "Besides, you're not my type." 
"I'm everyone's type." He argues. 
"Not mine." You smile, and then you make your first blunder. 
"I like my men a little taller." 
He stiffens, and you know you said the wrong thing. Your smile fades as does the cheery energy in your cottage. He says nothing, but he's zipping out your window before you can apologize. 
He doesn't return for the longest time. You count the weeks. Guilt weighs on your shoulders, heavy and burdensome. Every day you bake something even tastier than the day before. Not even that is enough to coax him back. 
You think you've lost him forever, when he returns on one sweltering summer evening. 
"Hi." You blink. He's watching you, sitting idly on the window, kicking his tiny feet. 
"Hi." He smiles. 
You're happy enough to grab him with one fist and hugging him to your chest, but as always, you stop yourself. Instead, a shy smile rests on your face. 
"I'm sorry," you say, "I really am...will you accept an apology pie?" 
He grins wider, and you relax. 
He eats, and you're grateful. Something you once cherished in your life has finally come back to you. You might not return Gojo's feelings, but you still care for him. You'd rather die than ever hurt him again. 
"No, you're right." Gojo surprisingly concedes when you apologize for the third time. "We're too different. It'd never work out. Not as the way you are, right now." 
You nod, grateful he's so understanding. "Exactly." 
He's finishing up when he announces he brought you a gift. 
"I've been working on it for the past few weeks," he cheerily says. "It took a while, but it's finally safe for human consumption." 
He takes out a tiny glass bottle filled with something swirling and blue. When he asks you to bring a glass of water, you acquiesce. To your astonishment, when the elixer is poured, the entire water becomes a swirling mass of a color comparable to none other than galaxies. You're so mesmerized by the color, it's enough to stump your voice. 
"For you!" He declares. "You've always been cooking for me; thought I might return the favor, just this once." 
"What is it?" You ask, amazed by the color. You admire the glance, unaware of the glint in Gojo's eye. 
"It's kinda like the wine you have in the mortal realms, but a little less poignant." He gives when you glance at him. "Go on, tell me what you think?" 
You're too trusting, and so you make your second blunder. 
Once you start, you can't seem to stop. The taste is otherworldly, addicting. You drink and drink, not wasting a single drop. You're breathing heavily once the cup detaches from your lips. 
"Amazing." You say before looking at him. His eyes are too wide, but you're too distracted by the taste still on your tongue. "Seriously, what was that? Can I make it here?" 
He scratches the back of his head. "Not really, the ingredients are pretty hard to find." He shrugs. "Besides, it's supposed to be a one-time use." 
Your eyebrows twist, and then the world sinks. 
You're falling. You think you are. You don't really know. Everything feels like it's stretching. The walls of your tiny little cottage get higher and higher and higher. The floor gets more and more warped. You're sinking, sinking through the air. When you scream, nothing comes out. You feel like you're choking because you can't breathe, and then your vision grows black. 
The next time you open your eyes. It's still dark, and to your horror, you realize you're buried underneath something. 
You panic, clawing and tearing your way out. The material gives away easily. It's fabric. Cotton. But there was so much, an undying ocean of fabric. You lift yourself up from the pile and that's when you realize you're completely naked. 
The mountain of cotton you just climbed to the top of was your old dress. 
Everything was gigantic—the table, the chairs. The windows seemed endless. The ceiling looked miles above you, and you know what happened, but your brain can't formulate it because it can't be—it just can't be.
There's a flutter of wings. You always thought he was so quiet before. Now, he's all you can hear. Immediately, you wrap your body with the cloth. It's hard to keep still; your body is buzzing with nerves and you still can't understand. You have to force yourself to look at him.
You don't know why you expected shock, guilt, something other than the pure manic glee on his face. Satoru towers above you, head tilted. He bends down, cupping your trembling face in his hand because he's big enough to do that now. 
"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more adorable." He coos. 
You can see him now. His skin isn't pale, it's borderline translucent. His canines are sharp and pointy. And his eyes. Oh God you've never seen eyes so terrifying before—an endless mass of blue, threatening to swallow you whole. 
He wasn't a cute little fairy. He was anything but that. 
"Gojo..." You start, heart squeezing. "What did you do.." 
You know. He knows. That's why he ignores your question entirely. 
"I'm surprised it worked." He says, mainly talking to himself. "Shoko said it might be a dud, and she was so sure of it, that I mostly believed her." 
"But now look at you!" He roughly pinches your cheek. "You're the perfect size now." 
"Stop." You blubber, pushing his hand off of you. "Don't touch me. Change me back. Change me back." 
He frowns. "Why would I do that? You being human-sized was always such a hassle. Lumbering around. Way too loud. Don't get me wrong, I adore you either way." He proclaims like it's something benevolent. "But this has its charm."
He leans forward, and you scuddle backward in fear. His grin widens. 
"So, am I tall enough for you, now?" 
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bpmiranda · 3 days
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Honey III |l. howlett| nsfw
A/N: dbf!logan, recluse!logan, sunshine!reader, age gap, tiny bit of angst, mainly smut🤭, mild daddy kink, fingering, oral f!receiving, unprotected sex
Honey Honey II
“I can’t grow old with you.”
Those words felt like a dagger in her belly and she recalled deciding to leave. Not because she was upset that he was a mutant, but because she felt it was a cruel joke from the universe to finally meet a man whom she wants to share a life only for it to not be possible. The only thing she could think to do was finish this last semester of her first college year and she figured they would talk again when she returned.
They had to talk about this, right?
However, Logan wasn’t on the mountain when she came home for the summer. Her dad had told her that he went on a trip to that States not long after she left for school and her heart fell into the pits of her stomach. That night she cried silently into her pillow, the ache of having lost him just like that too much to bear. It felt like a part of her had been taken with him. Perhaps she shouldn’t have pressed him to share her feelings, perhaps she should’ve given him more time to decide on his own if she was really what he wanted. The moments they shared sure had convinced her that they were on the same page.
The days all blended together after that night. Nothing interested her anymore, but she had to put a smile on because she didn’t want her father to grow concerned. But he knew something was wrong.
“You miss him?” He asked her one day when they were opening up the store. Her eyes widened as she looked up from the box of candy she had been slowly organizing and he chuckled. “Haven’t quite been yourself since you found out he left.”
Her face felt warm and she shook her head. “I-Logan and I-we-” She struggled to find a way to convince him she was not in love with a man twice her age, but her dad put a hand up.
“Logan’s a good man.” That was all he said and she smiled, nodding in agreement. “I figured something was going on when he asked me to let you know where he was going.”
Now is as good a time as any, she thought. “Did he say anything else? Maybe about me?” She asked sheepishly and her dad gave her a slow head shake.
“Just that he wanted you to know he won’t be gone for long.” He said and that alone gave her enough hope to hold onto for the time being.
Late one night, while she laid wide awake in bed almost a month after learning of his departure, she heard a soft thumping outside her window and she sat up quickly. Her eyes were wide as she watched a large silhouette appearing in her window and she realized who it was almost immediately as she hurried to open the window and let him in. Logan landed in her room with a heavy thud and she shushed him with a smile. “Hey, honey,” He greeted her with a grin. His hand reached out for hers and she shyly took it, leading him to sit on the end of her bed with her. “I hope I didn’t have you too worried.”
“Just about.” She teased, her hand reaching up to caress his cheek softly, the familiarity of his face bringing her so much peace. It didn’t matter that he had left, not now that he was back with her, but she still asked, “Why’d you leave?” Her big, sad eyes gave away her the pain he had caused her and Logan shook his head, disappointed in himself for not having told her more, but he couldn’t risk her not being safe when he returned.
“Not because of you.” He said, bringing his lips to hers for a soft kiss. “I promise it wasn’t because of you.” Her face warmed up and she nodded, believing him. “An old friend needed my help.” Her eyebrow raised curiously and Logan knew what she was thinking. “His name is Charles.” Her smile returned and she looked away from him as she whispered a soft ‘oh’ and he laughed softly at her. Gently, he held her face in both his hands and he looked seriously into her eyes. “I do love you.” Logan said, regretting not having said it the last time they were together. “Honey, I love you. I’m-well-I’m just scared of something happening to you.” He said, not bearing the thought.
Her heart was full as he told her he loved her. Relief washed over her and she lightly kissed him as she moved to straddle him. “Is there any reason I should be worried about my safety right now?” She asked, trying not to make a lewd sound as she felt his shaft underneath her. Logan shook his head, his hands resting on her hips as he kissed her back. “Then let’s just enjoy tonight, and we’ll worry about tomorrow when we get there.”
Logan nodded, knowing he wasn’t going to change her mind, knowing she wasn’t scared of him, or of being with him. “What about growing old together?” He asked as she kissed his neck softly, his head hung back as he let out a soft groan while lying on her bed with her on top of him. His large hands rubbed her bare thighs slowly as he tried to hold back long enough to make sure they could have a proper conversation about their future before he made up for the pain he caused her with his absence.
“I’ll grow old,” She whispered, smoothing her hands down his toned torso and sucking a light hickey on his neck, watching the little bruise disappear moments after. “And you’ll take care of me, like I do for you now.” She resolved, lifting herself up a little, slowly dragging herself along the jean clad length of his cock until she felt his head throb at her core which was covered only by the thin material of her pajama shorts.
Logan groaned, digging his fingers into her hips as he guided her along himself. Her head rested against his and she hummed in pleasure. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He whispered, holding her close as she slowly rolled her hips against him. “I love you.”
“I love you, Logan.” She breathed out as her lips met his and he then sat up, lifting her up so he could lay her down on the bed. Her hands ran down his exposed arms and he removed his tank top so she could smooth her delicate fingers over his toned abdomen. Her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as he watched her with a little smirk. “Will you fuck me, daddy?” She asked quietly, those gorgeous eyes looking up at him pleadingly and he nodded as he dipped his head down and kissed her neck.
“‘Course I will, honey.” He whispered.
Their clothes came off and Logan had her spread her thighs for him so he could lap gently at her cunt. Her body was trembling as she tried to remain as quiet as possible. His hands gripped her ass and thighs firmly, massaging her lower half as he drooled into her. “That feel good, baby?” He asked as he began pumping two fingers into her tight pussy, his tongue still toying with her sensitive clit while she mewled with her eyes shut tightly, nodding desperately.
“‘S always good, daddy,” Her voice was shaky and he smirked to himself. “You always make me feel good.” She moaned, her back arched against her bed as she felt herself reach that point of no turning back, losing control as he made her cum. “Fuck!” She whined and he quickly covered her mouth, his fingers still knuckle deep inside her as he watched her eyes well with tears while he extended her orgasm.
“That’s my girl.” He praised as she kept her trembling legs open for him. “Missed seeing you like this.”
Her eyes were blurry from the tears of overstimulation as he pulled his thick fingers out and sucked them clean before slowly rubbing his head through her folds. The feeling sent a jolt through her body and she braced herself onto his broad shoulders as he pushed his tip into her. “Oh, yes!” She whispered, her mouth latched onto his in a passionate kiss and he groaned as he sunk into her in one good thrust.
“You want this?” He asks and she nods, her brows upturned as he’s fucking so deeply into her, relentless in his pace. Logan caresses her hair with one hand while hiking her thigh up over his hip, allowing himself to rut deeper into her and she cries out, muffling herself with her hand while holding onto his waist with the other. “You want me?” He groans, feeling her walls clench tightly around his girth and she nods again.
“I want you, daddy. I only want you.” Her voice trembles and he notices tears rolling down her face. Logan smiles as he kisses her, wiping her cheek softly while he’s fucking her roughly.
“I’m yours.” He promises, grunting as she suddenly claws at his chest while she writhes beneath him. Logan can’t take his eyes off as she reaches her orgasm, her eyes half-lidded from the pleasure, and her teeth biting down hard on her lip as she’s struggling to keep quiet. “Can’t quit staring at you, you’re so pretty, honey.” Logan sighs as he fucks her through her release, wanting to give her everything. “You gonna take it?” He asks and she nods weakly, so pliable in his hold now. Logan buries his face in the crook of her neck as he ruts into her harshly, chasing his own high within her tainted walls. Her hands rub his broad back as she pants heavily, her mind fuzzy from the feeling of him gliding along her walls, the smell of his natural musk mixed with his signature cigars, the faint taste of herself on his lips as they kiss while he pumps her full of his cum.
They fall silent as they catch their breathes, kissing each other softly wherever they can reach as they refuse to pull away just yet. Logan doesn’t recall ever feeling quite this attached to someone before, and though he still holds concerns for her safety, he realizes that not something that he will ever stop worrying about. “I want you for as long as I can have you.” Her voice brought him out of his thoughts and he nodded in agreement as he brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. “We can deal with the rest as it comes.”
“If that’s what you want,” Logan murmured, kissing her forehead softly. “That’s what I’ll give you, honey.”
🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯
I hope you kind readers enjoy this little happy ending for Honey and Logan:)
🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened
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Hello! Many people have said this but ill say it too, I LOVE YOUR COMIC SO MUCH ( ´ ▽ ` ).。o♡
I really wanted to ask you about how you do the backgrounds? (Something i struggle with) whats the process? Like from start to finish, also, to do the rise backgrounds do you use reference from the show and generally real photo of ny? Or do you come up with them? And last question- The shadow and light on the background- Like HOW
i know it’s a lot of questions but i’m just so curious qwq and wanna learn to be better, thank you again in case you read this and respond, in case you don’t, i hope you have a nice day and a wonderful life uwu keep up the great work! (≧◡≦) ♡
Backgrounds are a really broad subject and I'm always a little overwhelmed when asked this question. Just like drawing the human body, backgrounds take time, repetition, and practice!
My answer got a bit long, so it's going under a read more :) but if you digest info better in video format I found this on youtube
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It pretty much goes over everything I wanted to say, but in a much better way. I wish I had found it before writing all this out lol
ok, first of all, I'm not a teacher nor was I built to be one of those cool helpful art tutorial people who do a full coloured tutorial filled with illustrations. This is just going to be a messy "how I do backgrounds / environment layouts from start to finish." kinda thing.
... lets start with a sight tangent.
Sketch from Life!!!
If you want to get better at backgrounds I recommend doing some sketching out in the real world!
When I was first getting into doing backgrounds I went to cafes and parks to just sketch the buildings and objects. Sketch rocks, flowers, clumps of grass, garbage cans, bottles, tables, street signs, etc. If you are drawing a tree observe how the trunks twist, how the bark flows, or how the leaves are bunched.
If you can't leave the house the same still applies! Sketch the interiors of your house, the walls, or common objects like chairs and bookshelves. How are objects stacked? items on the floor?
If you aren't comfortable with drawing outside or in public you can take some photos to draw from! They are good for practice and you can use them again as references later. Alternatively you can find pictures online of buildings and objects to sketch as practice.
All spaces have objects in them, it becomes easier to draw those kinds of spaces when you already have spent time observing and sketching them.
ALSO! They don't have to be good sketches! It's just to build out your mental catalogue and strengthen your perception of perspective.
now the actual thing...
BACKGROUNDS
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(the pictures used for this are my own. I dug them out of my 2022 folder)
Backgrounds have slightly different rules based on what you are making them for. Videogame Environment Concept Art vs Animation Layouts vs Comic Backgrounds vs Illustration backgrounds.
They all follow the same basics, which I will go over here, but the intention and function of those designs are going to be different. It's all about how you set up the scene and what it's purpose is!
Brainstorming and Thumbnailing
I like to think about a location as though it is a character. An abandoned old house with creaky sagging floorboards is very different from a futuristic space ship with sharp metal floor panels. A gas station has a very different feeling from a library.
I usually start by asking what is this location's story? Why was it built and for what purpose? What kinds of things does this room need to fulfill that purpose? You don’t need solid answers, but its good to be thinking about it while you are working.
Next, sketch some ideas for how this place is going to look. For me, this usually involves drawing the idea from multiple angles and then making lists & small sketches of the objects I think should be filling the space.
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Example: The main character of my original work is a Wanderer. They collect a lot of things on their travels, but those items have to be small enough to be easily carried in a backpack. I wanted his room to be in the corner of an attic, walled off by curtains, and filled with trinkets. You can see some of my brainstorming above.
References
I only look for references after I've done some sketching and planning; this is to solidify my idea first so that I don't accidentally copy anyone else's work. I will make a moodboard with pictures of lighting, colours, items, rooms with specific ceiling beams, old chairs, etc. basically whatever I feel fits the vibe.
Honestly, I don't use references as much as I should. For ROTTMNT fanart I look at backgrounds and screenshots from the series to study the style. I also reference actual photos of NYC to get a feel for how Rise condenses the visual information.
In general, it's good to have references of real life objects/locations, because there are so many details like cracks in pavement, stickers on polls, crowning on buildings, fancy fencing, weird chair legs, etc. that you might not think of. It's the imperfect details that can make a location feel more alive.
Perspective
Once you have your chosen sketch we move to.... the infamous perspective boxes. Doing backgrounds is just learning to be comfortable drawing So Many boxes and carving items out of them.
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Many better artists than myself have made videos on perspective, vanishing points, and all the technical bits. Videos like THIS ONE and THIS ONE are helpful (this post is great too!!). There are probably a lot of classes to be found on Skillshare or Schoolism. I learned a lot of this in my college art course, so I can't give you a specific video which helped me.
You can get by and be a good artist without learning this stuff. There are quite a few successful artists who have admitted they never bothered to learn perspective (one of these people even made a whole graphic novel series).
I personally avoided properly learning this stuff until I was in my 20s because I thought it would be boring and difficult to do. tbh I really wish I had learned it earlier because it's so much fun to make those silly little boxes imo. It looks scary and complicated but, just like drawing humans, it just takes time, repetition, and practice to develop the knowledge and skills.
Cleanup
You have your boxes and lines! Cool! Now to make a scene out of it. Fill in the details, get everything placed were you want it! Generally, the lines of each item will point back towards the horizon line, but they can have different perspective points.
Generally you would want to clean it up and get your room completely sketched before doing the lineart. I tend to combine the steps (not recommended)
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Lineart
I've mentioned how I do this before. Closer objects have thicker lines and more detailed inside. Further objects have thinner lines and less detail. I didn't quite achieve that balance with the image below, but it's close enough.
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Colours and Shading will have to be a separate post. In the meantime, I highly recommend the book "Color and Light" by James Gurney. I used to borrow it from my local library and a good chunk of my knowledge was learned from it :)
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reidishh · 2 days
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Have ya'll seen the tiktok where the guy learns Chinese so that he could propose to his girlfriend in her native language? And he gets super nervous, and his hands start shaking, so his girlfriend holds his hands to keep them steady so he could read the translations he wrote down?
Yeah, I just watched that video, and my immediate thought was of jegulus.
Can you imagine James wanting to propose to Regulus, but he wants to make it super special, so he decides to propose in French???
James asks Sirius to tutor him in the language, and when Sirius is curious about his sudden interest in it, James blushes and stutters out some bullshit excuse because Sirius is Regulus' brother (and they're not on the best terms - never have been, really) and James isn't certain how Sirius will react to the news that James is going to be proposing to his best friends little brother. But Sirius knows. Of course he knows. This is obviously important to James, and nothing is as important to him as Reggie.
James spends months learning French with the help of Sirius. Months. By the time Sirius deems James competent in the language, James is certain he knows more French than he does English. Still, James translates all the things he wants to say to Reggie during the proposal and writes it on a piece of notebook paper because he's certain he's going to mess it up somehow.
When he finally gets down on one knee, James is hoping that it goes off without a hitch. But, of course, nothing really ever goes his way.
He gets through the first few sentences without having to use the paper, his hands clutching Regulus' as the words roll off of his tongue with practiced ease. But then the weight of the moment catches up with him, and all of the nerves he'd managed to keep suppressed finally bubble over because 'oh Merlin, this is the man I love. What if I fuck it up? What if I fuck it up and he says no?'
And, suddenly, every bit of French Sirius taught him is gone. But, Regulus is there, and he's holding James' hands, and there are tears in his eyes, and he's sending James the most comforting smile, and James knows he has nothing to worry about.
So, James lets go of Regulus in favor of digging the folded sheet of paper out of his pocket. His voice is shaky as he tries to read from it, but his hands are even shakier than his voice, and he can barely make out what he wrote. He's close to just giving up and switching over to English. Then, without warning, Regulus has his hands back on James', holding them steady.
James pauses his speech to look at Regulus, only for a moment, before continuing when Regulus whispers, "Keep going."
By the end, Regulus is sobbing, and James is worried he said something wrong. But before James can ask, Regulus is throwing his arms around him, saying that he just can't believe anyone would do something like that for him.
Regulus says yes btw.
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ashwhowrites · 21 hours
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Hiiii I’m so excited that ur requests are open again!! Could you do a fic with Eddie and reader that are enemies but are in a parenting class and get partnered to take care of a fake baby together this causes them to get to know one another better and eventually fall for each other
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Parenting class
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Eddie and Y/N did not get along and everyone knew that. Eddie wasn't sure why he hated Y/N but he knew he did. Y/N thought Eddie was loud and annoying. They bickered anytime they were in a room together.
They only had one class together and it was health. Most of the time Eddie ditched so Y/N lived in her small victories. But a new lesson was being taught- parenting. And to make it worse, they got partnered together.
Y/N groaned as she walked over to Eddie's table and slammed her books down.
"Well hello to you too, gorgeous." Eddie teased. He loved getting under her skin and driving her insane.
"Shut up," she rolled her eyes and sat down
They sat in silence as the teacher explained the project and then handed them a fake baby doll.
"Look, he's kinda ugly, like you!" Eddie smirked as he held the baby and shoved it in her face
"I would rather be a single mom than spend a second pretending to have a child together."
~~~
Eddie had the first shift with the baby. They flipped a coin and he lost. Now he was listening to a fake baby cry non-stop as he tried to sleep. He swore he tried everything, he fed him, changed him, burped him, he did everything Y/N wrote on the list, but the fucker wouldn't stop crying.
He got out of bed and turned on his lamp, he grabbed his dirty jeans off the floor and dug in the pockets. Once he found the piece of paper he was looking for, he walked out to the kitchen to grab the phone.
He tried to zone out the crying as the phone rang, sighing in relief when someone picked up
"Hello?"
"I can't get that baby to shut up," Eddie growled into the phone
"Eddie, I wrote everything down, just read. Goodnight," Y/N yawned
"You don't think I've tried everything? Trust me, calling you is my last resort. Can you come over and just help me?"
"Why should I do that?" she scoffed
"Fine, but if you ever need help I ain't coming," Eddie argued, he went to hang up but she stopped him
"What's your address?"
~
Eddie was cradling the baby doll as he waited for Y/N to arrive. He sighed in relief when he heard a knock on the door. He opened the door and Y/N slipped inside.
"My uncle is in bed so we'll go to my room," Eddie whispered, even though he was sure the baby woke him up
Y/N nodded and followed him into the room
"Hand him over," Y/N sighed, her eyes heavy as the sleep never left her body.
Eddie handed him over, watching with curious eyes as she tucked the baby in her arms. He watched in awe as she cradled the baby and bounced him in her arms, the cries dying out.
Y/N smiled as the baby seemed to calm down
"Do you have a magical touch or something?" Eddie joked, wiping the tiredness from his eyes
Y/N looked up at him, just noticing he was shirtless. She quickly looked at his face and gave him a smirk
"Wouldn't you like to know," she teased
Eddie rolled his eyes but he couldn't help smiling
"Not even if I was dying, dear," he joked.
"Where does he sleep? I'll set him down," Y/N offered as she stood up
"On the bed," Eddie shrugged. He stood up and pulled the sheets back, she stepped next to him. Her soft skin touched his as she set the baby on the bed.
"Hopefully he'll stay asleep until the morning," Y/N said
"I'll walk you out," Eddie offered, Y/N nodded and walked behind him.
"Thank you for helping," he said as he opened the door
"I was helping the baby, don't flatter yourself."
Eddie smiled to himself as she walked out.
~~~
Over the next few weeks, Eddie and Y/N found themselves calling each other for help. Which forced them to hang out and talk to each other.
They learned a few things about each other, which seemed to humanize them. Y/N learned things about Eddie that she liked, and made her look at him differently. Eddie knew that Y/N had struggles in her own life and maybe he was too hard on her.
They didn't realize how easy it was to get along. Eddie found himself enjoying Y/N's presence and wanted her around more. He liked how soft and gentle she was with the baby, it showed a different side of her that he didn't know existed.
Y/N liked seeing Eddie try at something and seeing him care. She even began to find herself attracted to him. He was more open with her and she found herself wishing she could heal all his wounds.
By the time they finished the project, they both formed a huge crush on each other. They got comfortable and began to flirt, testing the waters.
Eddie wanted to ask her out but he was a bit nervous she would say no. He didn't know if being together changed anything or if it was just him. With the project finished, they didn't have an excuse to see each other and Eddie knew the longer he waited the easier it would be for her to find someone else.
He didn't know that she was thinking the same thing. She noticed that he didn't pick on her to make her insecure, but more of picking on her to make her blush. Their comments were less harsh, and he began to compliment her.
Eddie was too chicken to do it in person, so he waited until he got home from school and could ask over the phone.
He gave himself a little pep-talk before he picked up the phone and dialed her number
"Hello?"
He smiled when he heard her voice
"Hey, it's Eddie, I was wondering if you might be interested in getting food together? Like on a date," he swore he was holding his breath once he finished his sentence.
"I'll be ready at seven, and I'd bring flowers if I were you," she said before she hung up, smiling to herself.
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whimsyfinny · 2 days
Text
He’s a Winchester
Chapter 1
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.
Slow burn (ish), mom!reader, eventual smut
Warnings: language, mention of drugs
Chapter Word Count: 2330
—-MDNI—-
A/N: wooooop new series! I'm trying something new with this one! As a mom myself I loooove reading mom!reader fics, so I wanted to write my own. It's a slightly shorter first chapter, but the following ones should be longer. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, reading your comments makes my day ❤️ and of course, this is proofread only by myself so pls pls let me know of any errors! I really hope you enjoy it. I also didn’t write this at 2am for once so brownie points to me hahaha
Photos from Pinterest
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Chapter 1
“Come on, (Y/n)! You have to tell me all about it! What was he like? Did you kiss? Hold hands? Where did he take you?”
I couldn’t help but smile at the rapidfire questions spewing from Kats mouth. Kat, the stunner sat opposite me with perfect dark skin and the inability to have a bad hair day, was my closest friend. We lived on the same street, drank at the same bar and both hated this small, slightly judgemental town equally. We bonded over the similarities in our lives - like both of us having fallen pregnant at a young age and being dealt the hand of having to raise our kids as single parents. Life was fucking hard sometimes (well, nearly all the time), but my son, Levi, and Kat, made this life worth living.
“Jesus Christ, ok! The date was ok.”
“Uh oh. ‘Ok’? That means it was awful, right?” she raised an eyebrow.
I took a gulp of my coffee.
“The date was ok. But he was…. Seriously not my type. He was too…perfect?” I winced as the words left my mouth, fully aware of how utterly ridiculous that sounded.
“Girl, ‘too perfect’? What the fuck kind of excuse is that?” Kat snorted slightly into her latte.
“I know, I know. But he reminded me of a Ken doll, ya’know? With his white jeans and his Armani sweater over his shoulders - that’s not really… me. The dude gets more manicures than I do. Plus he drives a Fiat Panda. Levi wouldn’t be caught dead getting in and out of one of those.”
“You can’t use your sons taste in cars to dictate the men in your life. That’s a low blow and you know it.”
“Ok then, you go out with Robert and tell me about all the kale facts that you never wanted to learn.” I leant back on the couch, clutching my coffee with both hands to bring some warmth to my fingertips. Kat did the same opposite me, leaning back in the plush armchair as we both took a second to glance out of the large café windows. This was our happy place, right here. It was the place we would come to when we first met and the boys were still in diapers. It was our happy place for the last nine years, and we would come here for every situation: be it a breakup, a catch-up, to discuss terrible sexual encounters or dire situations that need insane back-up plans. But we mostly came here to people-watch. Being the young, single moms that we were, we were constantly under the scrutiny of the small town, having every decision judged by the perfect Jeep-driving soccer moms and the old ladies from church. When we came here, to sit by this window in these comfy-as-fuck couches, it was our turn to do a little judging.
“Vicki Priestley isn't fooling anyone with those sunglasses,” I said, taking another sip of coffee as I watched the thin peroxide blonde across the street repeatedly wipe her nose with the back of her hand.
“Right? We get shunned for…well… fuck all, yet that Paris wannabe can snort coke on a Tuesday school run and everyone turns a blind eye? What a joke.”
“Amen to that,” we watched her for a few more seconds as she climbed behind the wheel of some monstrous four by four and sped off down the road.
“Did you hear that Mrs. Harris caught Mr. Harris with a young mistress? Apparently she works at the bank.”
“Oh my GOD yes I heard!” Kat exclaimed, leaning forward, “and as revenge she put Nair in his shampoo - he's completely hairless, even his eyebrows are gone.”
We both snickered as we raised our mugs.
“To Mrs. H for taking no shit.”
Conversation flowed as topics ranged from the new dessert parlour that opened last week down the road to the extortionate price of kids' Motocross gear.
“I mean the bikes are so tiny, why do they have to cost that much?”
“You're preaching to the choir babes, Toby just outgrew his boots for the third time this year,” Kat grimaced at the thought of how much money she'd spent already.
“Ouch, they're like what? Eighty bucks a pair?”
“Yup.”
“Yeah well, I had to get Levi a new helmet after that little dickhead from the tournament last month crashed into the side of him. That boy was more upset about the stickers he lost than the bruises he got,” I shook my head with a smile on my lips. Kat did the same.
“That's a tough kid you've got there.”
I sighed.
“Yeah I know. Despite never having met him, he's so much like his dad. It's a little concerning actually,” I laughed nervously, instantly regretting bringing up Levi’s father in front of Kat. I glanced up at her, taking a sip of my coffee in an attempt to hide behind the mug. The wiggling of her eyebrows being an indicator of her impending wrath.
“That man is the reason why you’re never satisfied with your dates. He set that bar waaaay too high.”
I scoffed. “He did not. We were young and he just swept me off my feet a bit, that’s all; with that ‘give ‘em Hell’ attitude and handsome face. Plus he had a great car.”
“Last time you said his face was ‘gorgeous’,” Kat cupped her face and fluttered her eyelashes, puckering her lips. I threw a sugar packet at her which she batted right back at me.
There was a moment of quiet as we both looked out the window again, my mind unable to stop itself from racing through old memories.
“Do you think he’ll ever come calling?” Kat asked, some sincerity to her tone. I sighed and slumped back further on the couch.
“I highly doubt it. He doesn’t even know that Levi exists. I tried calling him a few years back but some guy John W. had that number instead. I gave up after that. Plus, he had this kinda dangerous job, and normally if he showed up it was because something was going to go down,” I paused, looking into the dark liquid in my cup, “It’s probably a good thing that he hasn’t just shown up.”
“You say that, but you still have that photo you took together on your vanity.”
I shot her a look, pursing my lips and pinching my brows as she laughed, knowing she'd stumped me there. I quickly downed my coffee and checked my watch before standing and grabbing my bag.
“Come on, let's stop interrogating me and go pick up the boys before all Hell breaks loose at the track.”
“Mom it wasn't my fault, I swear.”
I slammed the car door closed and turned to the boy who stood close enough to be my shadow.
I turned around to face him with a stern expression, “so you did do it? After I called that boys mom a liar? LEVI.”
Levi, my son, looked close to tears, his bottom lip trembling.
“Mom, I'm so sorry! I'll never do it again!”
I narrowed my eyes at him before sighing, already exasperated, throwing the car keys into my bag.
“Did you at least stick to the golden rule?”
His answer was a vigorous nod, the tremble in his lip disappearing.
“‘Never throw the first punch; throw the second and finish the fight,’” he recited the words like a prayer.
“And…?”
“‘Always claim self defence.’”
I smiled and ruffled his soft brown hair.
“Good boy. What started the fight anyway?” I asked, guiding him to walk through the parking lot towards that new dessert parlour.
“He said I was weird for not having a dad.”
I looked down at him, eyes softening and I lifted a hand to rub his shoulder. It wasn't the first time he'd had this argument, and it likely won't be the last. Kids can be assholes. “And then he hit me when I said ‘at least my mom's boobs are real.’”
“Levi!” I stopped in my tracks and looked at him, mortified. I didn't even know where to start with that one. “Where-”
“Jamie from math class told me what ‘implants’ were… and he said that Brad's mom had them.”
He looked up at me innocently, and I knew then that he didn't fully grasp what he'd said to Brad - the kid he'd just punched between the eyes. I sighed for the umpteenth time and started walking again.
“Whatever, just… don't say that to anyone again, ok? You're gonna make me look like a terrible parent.”
“Ok mo- whoa! Look at that car!” It was Levi's turn to stop dead in his tracks as he stood in awe of the sleek black car parked by the sidewalk.
A black Chevy Impala.
“Oh wow,” my words came out slightly breathless, my mind suddenly racing to him and the conversation I'd had with Kat earlier that afternoon.
“So cool!” Levi gushed, walking up close to it but not close enough to touch.
“Yes, very cool. Now let's go inside before they run out of ice cream,” I ushered him to the door, reflexively looking over my shoulder, not knowing if I even wanted to see who could possibly be in the area.
The bell jingled as we walked in and Levi ran up to the counter, pressing his forehead to the glass. My eyes scanned the menu and I was pleasantly surprised to see they served coffee.
“What do you fancy kiddo?” I ruffled his hair again and waited for him to decide, and it wasn't long before he'd made up his mind. After ordering, we headed towards a small table-for-two at the edge of the room, and as Levi slumped down in his chair something familiar caught my attention.
A voice.
My heart quickly became erratic in my chest and my palms grew sweaty. I looked in the direction the voice had come from and was met with a slap in the face from memory lane.
There he was; the same wicked grin and mischievous eyes that had burned themselves into my memory. He dressed the same as he did nine years ago - right down to the necklace and leather jacket. He was engrossed in a conversation with another man, who looked slightly younger than himself, all whilst digging into a stack of waffles.
“Mom?”
The sound of Levi's voice snapped me out of the stunned fog I was caught up in and I quickly sat down, trying my best to focus on my son and not the man who was sitting only a few feet behind him. Levi looked like he was about to ask another question when a giant chocolate sundae and a coffee appeared at the table. I heard the waitress challenge Levi to finish the whole thing, but it was like I was listening to the world through water. My mind wouldn't stop racing. He's here. Do I talk to him? Will he remember me? Do I tell him about Levi? I hurriedly pulled my phone from my bag and sent her a hasty message before turning back to the boy in front of me, convincing a smile to appear on my lips.
“If you have room in that black-hole stomach of yours then you definitely could've finished your veggies earlier at dinner.”
He smirked slightly, like he always did when he knew he was getting away with murder, and it almost took my breath away. I saw the same smirk grace the lips of the man in the booth behind him. The mans gaze shifted to the side and when his eyes met mine - the same vibrant twists of green and gold that I have tattooed on my memory - I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart leaping in my chest as I tore my eyes away. I clutched my coffee cup, staring intently at the dark swirling liquid, praying to anyone or anything that I'd find the answers to my troubles in the bottom of this mug. The prickling on my skin was unshakable, like his eyes were on me and I was trapped under his intense observation, unable to breath. Minutes felt like hours, and eventually he and his companion stood before heading to the door. The moment they were gone with the bell signalling their departure, the air gushed from my lungs as I dropped my head into my hands, earning myself a confused look from my son. I offered him a reassuring smile which he accepted before returning to shovelling ice-cream into his face.
Just when I thought I was safe, I looked up and locked eyes with him. Our eyes locked through the window just as he opened the car door, leaning on it. It was like time froze, and for a few moments, despite my earlier urgency to not make eye contact, I was now unable to look away. My breath caught in my throat as a smirk pulled at his lips before he ducked down into the driver's seat, slamming the car door closed. I found myself chewing on my bottom lip as he tore out of the parking lol, that familiar rumble of the engine practically rattling the windows and, despite the noise, it was a comforting sound.
Once they were out of sight and the impala could no longer be heard, I sighed, pushing my hair off my face and running my hands through my hair. As Levi polished off the last of his ice-cream, my phone buzzed on the table. Opening it and reading the message, a small wave of relief washed over me as Kat confirmed that Toby would be at his dad's for once so she could come over to drink wine and discuss very important topics. She hasn't got a clue what I need to vent about yet, but I feel like tonight is going to be a very long night.
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m0chisenpai · 1 day
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Could you consider doing a fwb reader who refuses to be with them because she thinks that they are so toxic (but they are pinning over her HARD because i like my men obsessive over me)
(also i said "they" because i didnt knew who to pick 😭 but this just screams lestat or armand)
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The hunt
˚。⋆ lestat de lioncourt x black!fem!reader x armand
in which neither lestat nor armand can keep their eyes off box one
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You joined the theatre after watching your maker burn to a crisp. Truth be told you would have done him in yourself had they not stepped in.He was ancient and delirious. You posed as his distant relative, some nights you were his niece, other's his heiress bastard. And in return you lived a comfortable life of luxuries.
Though you had to bear his unwarranted advances. His unwanted pet names, it all made your skin crawl. Tonight he said he needed to attend to his affairs, leaving you to explore the city. You made unnecessary puchases on his account. New gowns, jewels, head pieces for the upcoming season
When you arrived to your Paris manor to find it in shambles and the man burning amidst it all, all you could do was sigh and use his flames to light the cigarette while you watched him turned to ash. They were a gift from an ambassador. New unlike the tobacco pipes which you hated. You hardly flinched when the carriage boy screamed for help.
What were you to do now? His accounts were already settled in my name, but I liked this home.
"Your maker is no more fledgling" his presence startles you, but you stand your ground against the elder. Honeyed eyes watching yu concealed behind false glasses.
"I can see," you tap the ashes into the flames.
"He violated the ancients laws. He disrespected my coven."
"Coven?" Now he has your attention. You step up to him. "He never told me about laws, or others. Just said to tell him if I saw any more of us in the shadows."
He knows. He searched your mind fromt he shadows. Watching you shed no tears for your maker. All you could think of was no longer having to deal with him anymore. No longer were you forced to share his coffin, feel his disgusting hands. Armand felt your disgust, it churned his stomach.
He saw himself in your eyes. A hunger to learn more. He holds his hand to you, "come. Join us. And I can gurantee you will not suffer the same fate."
You stare at his hand, discarsing the cigarette next to you. "Will I truly?"
"Yes, come." There was a softness to his voice. You brought a nuturing side out to him he never knew was there. As he guided you back to the theatre, not once did his hand leave yours. You would spend the first night in his coffin, just in case he did try and kill you.
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Armand presents you in front of the coven the next night. You found them off putting, but you would grow used to their presence.
"Lestat De Lioncourt, one of our actors and founding members," you bow your head to him but he takes your hand in his pressing a kiss to your hand.
"Will this beauty be joining us on stage Armand?"
"No, she will observe with me for the time being until she finds her place."
"Ah maitre, it is sin to hide such a beautiful face." He flashes you a cheky smile which you quickly brush aside.
"And I hope you put that charm to use on stage Mr Lioncourt" you retort stepping back beside Armand.
"You have a bite in you fledgling, don't lose it."
French boys. You can only shake your head.
They were all the same. Flowery words, thoughts of lust and poetry. Philosophy. Bu this blonde beauty, this one was different. No thoughts of heaven or hell, evil and good. No his thoughts intrigued you.
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The first year you find yourself being a production assitant of some sort to Armand. You have your own quarters in the theatre. Filled with your gowns, jewels, your riches. You offer him input in changes, or adjusting scenery his scripts when need be. Always sitting in box one of the performances.
He won't admit it outloud but he felt you were the fledgling he was meant to make. Not your old maker.
His affections grew into something else. Was it romantic? No, vampires felt more than just human emotion. This was supernatural. Primal. As he sat in the box, he watched your gaze upon Lestat. You sat up straighter eyes wide with pride.
He wanted you to look at him like that.
"He's off script again," Armand clicks his tongue, he looks over to you.
"Yes, but don't you think it sounds bette this way."
"It would had he done it during rehersal." His eyes watch as your fiddle with the cuffs of your gown. He takes your hand into his own, now he has yoru eyes which look up at him.
"Yes?"
"Nothing, I just wanted to see your eyes for a moment fledgling."
"Are you growing soft Armand?" You smirk up at him, sitting up and tilting your head as to suggest you were to kiss him which he anticipates.
"The next act is starting" you whisper situating yourself to watch the performance. His eyes open, looking now to the stage, where Lestat bows smirking up at the box as you stand to join the applause.
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You pace back and forth in front of Lestat who reads from his script. The coven look as dead as their hearts, the poor diva couldn’t get his line. He had been slacking lately as death, and he needed to improve for the upcoming performance.
You wouldn’t admit it, but he played death well. He was as vicious as death. But you needed death to have romance to it. Death was as beautiful as he was fearsome.
"Come now Lestat as though you are in love!" you exclaim. He reads the lline again but it sounds more...harsh than loving.
"Lestat surely you bedded enough women to know how to speak sweet love. Speak as though you wish to lure her, to drink her lust and her blood." You look up at him, he looks down upon you and in one big swoop pulls you to the stage.
"My bounty is as boundless as the sea," he whispers it tenderly, his hand cups your cheek the other srill holding the script in hand.
"My love as deep; the more I give to thee,The more I have, for both are infinite." He is closer now. "How was that?"
"Better, now do it with your bride of death tonight." You whisper Walking past him into the wings.
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Armand can't help but watch as you write at your desk, beside the new set of perfumes and fans he gifted you. He watches your lips move slowly. Your french has improved with hsi assistance. bUt you slip up, speaking in oor dialect as he calls it.
He feels a presence all too familar behind him.
"Shouldn't you be practicing your lines, puce."
"My apologies maitre," Lestat speaks in false humility bowong his head. "I wished to practice them with-"
"Unnecessary. I will be speaking with her performances and coven matters.”
“Ahh yes,” Lestat hums. Taking a bold step to stand beside Armand, who continues to watch your hand move with quickness across one of his scripts.
They don’t know, but you listen. You hear their thoughts. Desires to have you as their own. You know it. Felt it the moment both men entered your lives.
But no longer will you be held captive by another man’s desires. No, the fates of their hearts shall be in the palm of your hand this time. You give them your eyes looking at them now.
You smile, Lestat happily returns it. Armand merely bows his head to enter. He clearly has told Lestat something because he is gone in an instant.
For now, you’ll indulge them. Let them think they are winning. t’s fun when your food is unaware. That is what Armand tells you during one of your hunts. It makes the blood sweeter, and the hunt more invigorating.
Thus begins the hunt.
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deadsnakey · 14 hours
Text
𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔? 𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔!
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𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐘!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐱 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐱 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄
—> Mattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott love to bother you, it's so obvious they hate you. Do they really, though?
Check out the request here!
—> Enemies to lovers, kind of... Fluff, a little angst possibly and two idiotic boyfriends who think bothering you very clearly means they like you.
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★ Ok, this might be a little messy but just stay with me here.
★ since first year, mattheo thought you were so pretty and just adorable. though, he always kept his distance as much as possible.
★ it wasn't untill around third year that mattheo and Theodore started getting really close, eventually dating in 5th year.
★ but there was still a huge problem, you.
★ they both knew they liked you, they've talked about it voguely a few times and since then they've had to an understanding that you belong to them and no one else...even if you didn't know it yet.
★ unfortunately for you, they only knew one way to flirt; teasing and bothering you.
★ its not too long until you start trying to avoid them as much as possible, knowing you'll be teased relentlessly or the butt of their joke that you never found funny.
★ they always called you names like princess, sweetheart, doll or darling. nicknames in Italian from Theo that you didn't really understand.
★ Stealing your pencils, notebooks, homework or even your wand just to get your attention. They'd dangle it where you couldn't reach. Anything for your attention.
you were going to your last period of the day, hoping you'd be able to make it through without seeing them, the two boys. you've been lucky enough to go the whole day without seeing them but you still technically had two more hours before you'd be safe in your dorm for the night.
you've made it to class, and successfully made it through. walking through the halls, listening to music. your huffy puffy friend ended up stopping you for a few minutes to ask about the material you both were learning at the moment in potions.
once done, you quickly started walking again, about to press play on your music again when you feel someone lightly tap your shoulder. you sigh to yourself, hoping it wasn't the two boys whom you've been dreading of seeing; let alone talking to.
"hey, princess. where you've been lately? hm? avoiding us, weren't you?" mattheo taunted, a smirk stretched on the side of his lips.
you slowly blinked, in disbelief. "why? miss taunting your toy? can you guys just leave me alone? I've done nothing to you." they both huffed, "toy? is that how you really see it? you know it's quite saddening you'd think of us in such a way, darling." mattheo put his arm on theodore's shoulder, slighting leaning on it.
"yeah, okay." you harshly spat out, turning on your heel to get away from them. Theodore was quicker. he gently but firmly grabbed your arm and pulled you into his chest making you stumble; your back now touching his clothed chest. you were quickly intoxicated with the smell of faint cigarettes and cinnamon.
"what? got nothing to say now, tesoro?", "don't call me that. and let me go!" you struggled. "someone's feisty, eh? c'mon, lets go to my dorm. I think we need to have a little chat with you." mattheo said, gently putting his hand on the top of your head in a genuine gesture as Theodore started walking, mattheo in front as he led the way and Theodore making sure you're not trying to escape from behind you.
★ safe to say, you were scared.
★ but they really did just want to talk to you. they confessed their feelings for you although you were confused. they hated you.
★ they explained that they didn't hate you, they were head over heels for you if anything. they just...had a really bad way of showing it, hence the constant and brutal teasing.
★ you were shocked. but you told them that they needed to give you some time, you told them as long as they toned it down and stopped being so cruel with their teasing and jokes and actually got to now them, you'd consider dating them.
★ They finally got your attention and they loved it.
★ after 4 awful months of torture from these two, it payed off.
★ fast forward to the end of sixth year, you developed feelings from them both and heavily overtime. that's when you told them that you had came to falling for them and would love to date them both; now that you felt ready.
★ they were soooo happy, definitely lots of affection from these two the rest of the day and night.
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kingkat12 · 2 days
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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
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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)
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thewhumpcaretaker · 8 hours
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⚜ Marquis of Los Angeles: Ch. 2 - Domination
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ཐི♡ཋྀ Thank you for the beta-read, @evrensadwrn! ཐི♡ཋྀ
Summary: LaCroix briefs Vincent on the new world he has just entered into, with the expectation that he will be an obedient ghoul. But Vincent is still struggling to gain the upper hand.
Author's Note: I made myself sad writing this - I want Sebastian to turn from Whumper to Caretaker already!
TW: mind control, emotional manipulation, strangulation, kidnapping
It was not LaCroix’s habit to keep his subordinates close to him. If it was wise to keep enemies close, then it was wiser to keep envious inferiors at such a distance that they had no opportunity to become enemies. Ghouls ought to have no knowledge of their master’s weaknesses, and no importance as anything other than pawns. They ought to view him as a solitary, impenetrable figure, above even their understanding. But Vincent Bisset de Gramont proved himself an enemy from the start, and therefore, an exception.
LaCroix repeated that name in his head and smiled, rolling it and playing with it, along with the bullet in his palm which he had decided to keep as a souvenir. Vincent had become so incensed when LaCroix refused to use his title that he determined on the spot never to use it again. The man had to be taught a lesson. “You are no Marquis any longer, let alone an ‘Autem Imperator,’ Vincent. Those titles have no meaning here. You will learn new titles. ‘Prince.’ ‘Regnant.’ ‘Domitor.’ And they will belong to me, not to you - as do all things where we’re going. Know your place.” He leaned back into the quilted suede of his seat, letting starlight and the dimmed glow of the cabin play across his features to what he hoped was a mysterious and intimidating effect.
“Your hubris knows no bounds, Prince,” Vincent spat back, clutching the arms of his seat as if his wrists were lashed to them. “They’re looking for me even now. Do you think you can walk into a High Table duel and make off with the highest ranking –“
“No one is looking for you, because no one knows you’re missing. Everyone who saw me believes they saw a kindly priest who said his respects over your body before helping that fellow – The Harbinger, I believe you call him – lay you to rest in a casket for your mortician to carry away. Tomorrow, that empty casket will be buried.”
A flash of panic before his pretty green eyes lit up again. “The mortician will – “
“The mortician wasn’t your man. He was mine. I sent a local friend to take his place, and to oversee the proceedings. You’re as good as dead, Vincent. I’m dreadfully sorry.”
He went as ghostly white as his travelling companion then. He remained very quiet while Sebastian explained to him the meanings of those important titles he’d mentioned, as well as other relevant words such as “Masquerade” and “Camarilla” and “Ventrue.”
LaCroix’s hope of entertainment during the flight was very much fulfilled. Vincent made for a captivating (if pitiful) image, with blood still smeared across his forehead and wetness sparkling in his eyes. LaCroix couldn’t stop staring at him and wondering whether he’d really cry or not. It filled him with a strange mix of sadism and sympathy that kept the Prince continuously in suspense. It sent him inexplicably trembling to hear Vincent say, “You’ll have to forgive me, Sebastian, I’m just so confused. Please…help me understand everything.”
He was coherent enough to ask intelligent questions though, and always seemed to latch onto those subjects that were a little too top-secret for a first conversation with a ghoul, whilst sighing that he was just so confused and scared. Clearly, he knew his way around a syndicate like the Camarilla and went straight for the vital information. When at last the Prince tired of this game and started to inquire about Vincent’s own organization, he refused to divulge anything.
It confused Sebastian a little. Every other ghoul he’d ever created had hung on his words in an ecstasy that totally drowned out the loss of their former life. They typically begged to repay him for saving them and fell over themselves to please him until he was either amused or disgusted. They certainly didn’t issue desperate pleas and threats about returning to their old life, or try to ply information out of him, or protect their old secrets. But Vincent? Well…there was no doubt that Vincent was affected by Sebastian. Sometimes his eyes lingered on LaCroix as if he wasn’t quite able to look away. But the look there wasn’t puppy love, it was…horror. Hatred. As if Vincent was looking at an old grudge who had wronged him grievously. Something wasn’t right.
He wasn’t in deep enough, that was all. He’d only taken the first sip of vitae – two still remained to form a full blood bond. And he was hardly a pliant individual, that much was evident. For now, Sebastian supposed he’d have to secure the ghoul’s cooperation via commands. “Vincent. When I ask you a question about the High Table, you will answer me directly, honestly, and without embellishments. Do you understand?”
A glazed, vacant look replaced the pitiful one. “I understand.”
There, good. Sebastian let out a breath, only just realizing how tense he had become, and began his inquisition.
He knew a little about the High Table already. It was not so different from the Giovanni, but even larger by membership the Camarilla, and impressive for a human construction. It was difficult to be anyone significant in either the human or kindred underworld without running across the High Table’s activities at some point. But the Autem Imperator (Sebastian might not call him by his title out loud, but he wasn’t forgetting it for an instant in his own mind) offered a unique view of its proceedings. Within minutes, LaCroix knew who held each seat, how communications passed between members, how those communications might be intercepted, into which countries their influence had spread (it was most of them), and even where the Elder resided.
It had been no idle tip, he realized, that suggested he should pay a visit to his home country and rest in the basilica that day. It had been, in fact, pure gold in the form of an anonymous email. He almost passed it up as an attempted ruse or ambush, even with all the power promised by the stranger on the other end. But it also spoke to a Masquerade violation, and even the Nosferatu could not trace it. The sender must have had a contact, someone who could encrypt on their level. So he went personally, just for 24 hours, with the resolution that he would return to the safety of LA as soon as possible.
Remembering at last to the original purpose of his visit, LaCroix asked his ghoul one final question, shortly before landing.
“Do you have an associate who would go by the initial ‘C’?”
Even under domination, he rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. You’ll have to be more specific.”
Sebastian held out the message on his phone. “Who could this have been?”
“Is it true that you can help someone live beyond death? If you really are I’ve been told you are, then come at once, to Paris. Come to the Sacré-Coeur Basilica just before dawn. If you’re lucky and I’m unlucky, you will find a man there who cannot escape death any other way. If you keep him alive, he will offer you knowledge and power equal to your own, pertaining to a human organization you may know as the High Table. Take him away from me, change him, disappear him, I don’t care. Only save his life and make him happy, and you will have my eternal thanks. He does not know, and will never know, what he means to me.”
- C”
“My bodyguard, Chidi.” His voice was strained almost to the breaking point, and his eyes still fixed on Sebastian’s phone even after the email was closed. Sebastian had no questions about whether he was faking his tearfulness this time.
“A ghoul of your very own, of sorts! Where can I find him?”
Vincent closed his eyes for a moment before mustering an answer. “…He’s dead.”
“Ah, splendid. That saves me a great deal of trouble.”
And then Vincent did what no ghoul, whether on one sip of vitae or three, should have been capable of doing. He sprung forward and closed hands around his domitor’s neck.
.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸. ཐི♡ཋྀ.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.
It took Vincent much longer than it should have to recall that Sebastian didn’t need to breathe. By that time, he was already being dragged off by the enormous, visibly supernatural thing that Sebastian had introduced as “The Sheriff.”
“Get this brainless lump off of me!”
“Hey,” The Sheriff grunted. Vincent paid him no mind, and continued addressing LaCroix with exactly as much civility as he deserved, all the while straining against the boulder-heavy hands holding him back.
“You will not SPEAK to me that way and you will not – “ Fuck, he hated the way his voice was shaking… “You will not speak of my bodyguard’s death as – as ‘splendid!’”
“And you will not speak to me at all until you can behave yourself!” LaCroix retorted. “SILENCE!”
The voice seemed to go out of Vincent’s throat. All his resistance had been used up in the outburst and he sunk numbly back into his seat.
LaCroix was panting, a shaking hand against his neck. He adjusted his tie and recovered himself enough to laugh. “Imagine trying to strangle a vampire! And the one holding your life in his hands, no less. You’re one to talk of brainlessness. And just when I was beginning to respect your cunning.” Vincent opened his mouth and nothing came out, so he spat in LaCroix’s face instead.
“Oh for god’s sake - You don’t speak AND you don’t move!” Vincent smiled as he watched LaCroix wipe at his face with a handkerchief, scowling. But another wave of terrible compulsion spread through his limbs, and then he was paralyzed.
It was such a strange feeling, being “dominated.” It was the same magnetism that drew him to LaCroix when he first laid eyes on him (that must be the “vitae” he had spoken about), but stronger, and more concentrated. Making him capable of magnificent feats, making him motivated, drawing his focus, making things important to him. As if a power was bursting out from inside of Vincent. It wasn’t so unlike being high, and not wholly unpleasant. But it was not his to control, not a part of him. It was LaCroix’s, and he hated it for that, and he hated LaCroix for that too. Maybe, if he just held onto that hatred…
But LaCroix’s conversation with his Sheriff broke his concentration. “No, I don’t want him in a cell, much less his own apartment. He’s not fully dominated and it’s a security risk. I don’t understand it, but I need to maintain a tight hold over him even if I have to do it by manual override. He stays in the penthouse, with me.”
If The Sheriff understood that, he conveyed it only by grunting.
Damn it. Any chance to get out of LaCroix’s grasp was slipping away. Again, he struggled to protest, but it was useless. He couldn’t speak. His own body was refusing him. It felt traitorous and alien and there was no one to help him, no one looking for him, no Chidi ever again and absolutely nothing he could do. If he had a voice, he would probably be screaming, he realized. But instead, for the second time that day, he floated on a sea of bloody misery, gasping worse and worse by the second. As the jet went into final descent, its weightlessness hit him in the stomach and drove home a second wave of fear.
LaCroix was watching him, leaning over him, speaking to him, in much the same way one might speak to a broken printer shortly before kicking it. He lay a hand on Vincent’s chest to feel his shallow heartbeat and the very core of Vincent’s being rebelled against the way that it soothed him.
“Why are you not calm? You shouldn’t be feeling this way, I don’t understand why it’s not working…” He fixed LaCroix with the most hateful stare he could manage without moving his facial muscles. Why do you think, you useless fils de pute? He felt tears rolling silently down his cheeks. Fine. Good, even.
Again, LaCroix’s magnetic voice overpowered his will with a rush, even more hideously blissful than before. Perhaps it was more in harmony with him than the last had been... “Be calm, Marquis. I command you. Don’t be so afraid.”
And all the wild contents of his heart slipped away into a soft, empty, merciful void.
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forhappysake · 2 days
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Fluffy Surprise
Author's Note: Not proofread and the first fic I've written in like six months so read if you dareeee
Summary: Reader decides to give Spencer a present when he returns to their new home.
Warnings: People with cat allergies, beware! (?) Fluff ofc.
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You moved into the new house two weeks ago.  Technically, you moved all your stuff into the new house two weeks ago. In boxes. Lots and lots of heavy boxes.
Spencer had come up with a system, labeling each box with the room it would go into at the new house. You had worked together to pack everything, label each box, and unload the boxes into your new home. 
And it seemed like the moment he set the last box down and you were ready to start setting the place up, his phone rang. 
Spencer had been gone for one week. 
The case was halfway across the country, somewhere in Santa Fe. You couldn’t exactly be mad at him for being gone, but unpacking and trying to organize everything without his input was a nightmare. You were finishing the last box in your shared bedroom, carefully placing his clothes on wooden hangers and organizing them in the closet, when your phone rang. 
Spencer’s name lit up the screen. You answered quickly. 
“Hi, Spence,” you said, plopping down on the freshly made bed.
You could tell how tired he was from the long pause he took before responding. “Hey, honey. How’s the unpacking?” he asked with a small sigh. 
You frowned to yourself, worried about how tired he sounded. “Oh, it’s alright. I’d like you to look through all the rooms when you get home, just to make sure everything is where it should be.” You let out a soft laugh, “I also had a hard time hanging up all the pictures and paintings without you, so we may have to straighten some of them up when you get back.” 
Another pause followed, though this time you could envision him nodding to himself. “We can do that,” he said. “I’m sorry you had to do it all by yourself. I promise I’ll find a way to make it up to you.” 
You rolled your eyes. “It was fine, Spencer. Besides, I’m pretty sure chasing a serial killer or something gives you an excuse.” 
He sighed on the other end of the line. “That’s what I wanted to talk about. We caught the unsub this evening. I’m hoping to be home late this evening, but it probably won’t be until after you go to bed.”
You smiled, content with the thought of him coming home to your freshly decorated home. “Oh, I’ll be staying up. I want to see your reaction to the place.”
“Alright,” he said, clearly too tired to urge you to go to bed instead with a list of facts about the health benefits of a good night’s sleep. 
You sighed. “As much as I'd love to stay and chat, I’ve got about fifteen more boxes to go.” 
“I understand. I should probably get some work done, too. Files, reports, you know how it is,” his voice was barely a whisper now, the exhaustion beginning to get the better of him. 
“Don’t work too hard, Spence,” you cautioned. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. I love you.”
“I won’t. I love you too,” he answered. The end of his line promptly went dead.
You looked around the bedroom, discarding your phone on the bed. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was something you could do to make Spencer’s return home a bit more special. 
You sat up and leaned over, furrowing your brow and resting your head in the palm of your hand as you tried to think of things Spencer liked. Of course, Spencer liked a lot of things. He liked sweet coffee, puzzles, and a classic novel in some foreign language you couldn’t comprehend. 
None of those things were overly special, in your mind. As you sat and wracked your brain, a thought finally came to you. 
One month ago, walking by a local cat cafe, Spencer spotted the most beautiful calico. She had fluffy hair, one black ear, one orange. Her little paws were white and she was so well mannered. Spencer and yourself had gone in immediately and he had spent your time inside doting on the calico, whose name, you learned, was Calypso. 
You bolted up from the bed and out into the living room, finding your purse sitting among the unpacked boxes. You shot out to the car, and without a second thought, drove the ten minutes to the cat cafe. 
You said a silent prayer that the cat was still available as you pulled into a parking space across the street. As if on cue, you looked up to see the same cat lounging lazily in the window sill, green eyes poised on you. 
The adoption process was quick, quicker than you anticipated. Fifty dollars later, you were on the road with Calypso in the passenger seat, sitting demurely in the carrier the shelter had provided you with to take her home in. 
On the way home you had to stop at PetSmart to pick up a litter box, a few toys, and a scratching post with the hope that your new furry friend would not decimate your new furniture. Calypso remained in the carrier, watching quietly from the shopping cart as you agonized over which treats to get. 
Soon enough, you were on your way home. The moment you walked through the front door, you set the carrier down and allowed Calypso to wander free. She was tentative at first, gently sniffing the floor and getting the feel for her new surroundings. However, after ten minutes, she perched herself on the kitchen counter, looking quite like the queen of her own castle. 
You took this chance to open her new toys and scatter them about the house, as well as find a secluded corner for her litterbox.
For the rest of the day, the cat watched you unpack boxes. Beady green eyes noting your movements until you disappeared from her sight. Occasionally, if you left the room for too long, you would turn to find that she had followed you. In these moments, you would stop to offer her a gentle petting and giggle as she flopped down on the floor, furry belly up to the sky. 
It was six hours after his phone call that Spencer arrived at home. 
2:19 a.m. was the time on your watch when you heard the lock turn and rose to greet him at the door. Calypso, seated in the corner of the room on a side table, perked her ears up at the new noise coming from the entrance. 
Spencer locked the door behind him and turned to face you, reaching out and pulling you in for a long hug. 
You rubbed your hands up and down his back. “Are you happy to be home?” you asked, your voice muffled by his shoulder. 
“You have no idea,” he said. He pulled away only to examine the living room. Spencer nodded in approval. “It looks really good in here. You did a great job.”
You smiled warmly, nerves settling in your stomach as you realized he’d not yet noticed the cat in the corner of the room, who was still watching him with suspicious eyes. 
“Spencer, I have to tell you something,” you said, wanting to explain yourself for doing something as impulsive as adopting a cat while he was away. 
His face suddenly became very serious. “What is it? Did something happen while I was gone? Are you alright?” 
The questions came quickly and you shook your head to reassure him. “No, Spencer, it’s nothing bad. Here, come look.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him forward until the two of you were standing behind your couch in the middle of the living room. 
“Look around,” you said. 
Spencer’s tired eyes traversed the room. You watched as they landed on paintings, the television, the clock, and nearly everything but the cat who sat entirely still in the corner. 
“I don’t understand,” he said, brow furrowed. “Did you make some major change I don’t know about? If you did, I’m sure that it’s f-”
At that moment Calypso jumped off the side table. The soft thump that accompanied her landing on the floor was enough to stop Spencer in his tracks. Finally, you watched as the feline caught his eye. 
“You didn’t,” Spencer said, his voice barely above a whisper. His reaction wasn’t telling you much, and you were afraid that he was not pleased. 
You started trying to explain yourself. “Well, I knew that you had a long week. I wanted to do something special. I know how much you enjoyed spending time with her at the cafe and now that we have the space I figured…”
You trailed off. In the time you had spoken, Calypso had crossed the room, climbed the couch, and began butting her head up against Spencer’s hand. Panic was setting in. Why wasn’t he reacting? 
Just when you were about to push him to say something, you looked up to see a large grin plastered on his face. Spencer gently wrapped his arms around the cat and picked her up, holding her close and petting in between her ears. 
“This is the most thoughtful present ever. I love her,” he said. His excitement reminded you of a little child and pulled at your heartstrings in a way that could have made you cry. 
You sighed in relief. “I’m so glad.” 
With Calypso still draped over one arm, Spencer reached out for you, pulling you to his side. He planted a soft kiss on the top of your head. “Thank you so much. I love her. I love you,” he said, smile still evident on his face. 
“I love you too,” you said, turning to face Calypso, who looked all too content to be wrapped up in Spencer’s arms. 
“I think she’s trying to steal my man,” you joked, nudging Spencer on the side. 
Spencer laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry too much about that. My heart has room for two lovely ladies.”
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Online matchup 11
Summery: Jason said he was going to be out of town, but that doesn’t stop Red Hood from checking in once in a while. But there are more pressing matters Y/n is dealing with, and Y/n has live with what they learned and they’re not sure how to handle it.
Warning: fluff I think, swearing, reader is having a crisis anyways. So is Jason.
A/N: I’m trying to get my rhythm back after everything went to shit, so I am starting with a new chapter of this. Hope you like it, it’s the only thing I finished before everything happened with my mother-in-law. And don’t worry, I still plan on posting the other ficus I promised, I’m just trying not to overwhelm myself. Also, this was 100% inspired the new arc of Batman: Wayne Family Adventures on webtoon
Ao3
Master list
Taglist: @teapartydreams @adorabluesposts
——————
March 14
Roy
So
How goes it with Jason?
Y/n
Why?
Why do you have the need to keep my number?
Roy
Because one day we will meet, and we will have to be friends
Y/n
Because of Jason?
Roy
Because of Jason
But this way, we can get ahead of the game
And I don’t have to pretend to like you for I will already like you when that day comes
Y/n
You’re so weird
Roy
Yeah but aren’t we all a little weird in our own way?
Y/n
I guess
Roy
So?
Answer my question
Y/n
So demanding
Just ask Jason
He is your friend
Roy
Yeah, but he doesn’t like talking about personal things while working
Y/n
So you’re going to get information from me?
What makes you think I’ll answer?
Roy
I could always ask Conner
Y/n
Why would he know about my relationship?
Roy
He’s dating your sister
And he is friends with with Tim
Y/n
Damn
You’re right
Roy
Always am
Y/n
Mm, I don’t think so
But things with Jason is good
We’ve aired out our worries and continue to see each other regularly
Roy
Good
Y/n
Why’d that feel threatening?
Y/n
Your friend Roy is something else
Jason
What?
When the fuck did you meet Roy?
Y/n
Um
Technically I haven’t physically met him
But Conner made a group chat the other week and he was in it?
And now he has taken to texting me
It’s wild
Jason
This was not how I wanted the two of you to meet
Y/n
It is what it is
My mom always said I needed more friends
Jason
I doubt this is how she wanted that to happen
Y/n
It is what it is
Don’t be too mad
Jason
I’m not
You guys were bound to meet eventually
Just not like this
Y/n
Yeah but that’s okay
I kind of like Roy
Though sometimes it feels like he’s threatening me when he talks
But other then that he’s okay
Jason
Nice to know that you have other options in the dating world if this doesn’t work out
Y/n
Okay I wouldn’t go that far
He’s nice and all
But I’m not the type of person to go after my ex’s best friend
Jason
I’m just saying
Y/n
So am I
Jason
I mean, there’s always Red Hood you could go after
Y/n
I have many regrets
And telling you my crush on him is the biggest one
Jason
I think it’s cute
Y/n
I think it’s unattainable
Jason
Mm
Maybe, maybe not
Y/n
What’s that suppose to mean?
Jason
Nothing you need to worry about
Y/n
Okay, well now I’m worried
Jason
Mm, well that’s to bad
On an unrelated note,
I might be a little distant for a bit
Got stuff I need to work on
So our dinner date has to be on pause till I get back.
Y/n
We had a dinner date?
Jason
I love how that’s your takeaway from that
Y/n
Well I mean
I feel like that’s something I would remember
Jason
...
I didn’t ask you, did I?
Y/n
That seems to be the case
Jason
Well, I guess I’ll have to ask you when I get back
Y/n
What?
Booo
**
There’s a thump outside your window that has you looking up from your book. You freeze, waiting for something to happen. When nothing happens, you go back to your book.
Before you can focus on the words, you hear something from beyond your window. Head snapping to it, you narrow your eyes as if you could see through it.
When the sounds kept coming, so did your curiosity. Sighing, you set the book down and pushed your blankets as you got off the bed to investigate.
Drawing the curtains open, you come face to face with someone you thought you'd never see again. You blinked a few times to see if you were seeing things. But you weren't and it was Red Hood that sat on your fire escape.
Opening your window, you leaned out to see what he was doing better. He wasn't injured but he was heaving. Like he was running from something.
"Come here often?" you asked once your assessment was done. You watched in amusement as he jumped slightly, hand hovering over his holster as he turned around
“Why are you awake so late at night?" he asked instead. You shrugged and rested your chin on your hand.
"Wasn't tired," you answered, eyes straying down to the streets below when you heard shouts. "So, I thought you usually fight thugs. You don't seem to be the hiding type."
Red Hood shrugged and relaxed, leaning back on the wall. "Don't really feel like fighting tonight. Figured Batman can have this one.”
"I thought you hated him," you said, surprised.
"Love hate relationship I guess."
Silence fell as you watched the Gotham night bustle with life, enjoying the sounds. "You hungry or something?" you asked, and could see the hesitation when he realized that he'd have to remove the helmet. "I can turn my back if you’re more comfortable with that," you suggested. At his nod, you stood and beelined to the kitchen. Once the food was plated and warmed, you grabbed a water bottle and walked back.
"It isn't much, but at least it's something,” you said as you handed the food over. He granted and you turned around. Sitting on the floor back leaning against the window. You heard the click and hiss coming from behind. Though you were curious to see what his face looked like, you promised not to peak.
"So, do you feed everyone who stops on your fire escape or am I just special?" he asked around a mouthful of food. Your checks warmed and was very glad that he couldn't see.
"Only the ones I like,” you teased.
"That implies you have visitors," he pointed out.
"And if I do?”
"Then you should be worried." You snorted, hugging your knees to your chest.
"I'm on the sixth floor. I don't know who would come to my window.”
“Didn't stop me.”
"Guess you’re just special."
"So, should I be worried once your boyfriend gets home?" Red Hood asked when there was a lull in the conversation. You hummed and rested your chin on your knees
"I don't think so,” you answered, "I live alone."
"So no boyfriend? Or girlfriend?"
"No girlfriend," you confirmed, "I'm not sure if he's my boyfriend.”
Jason's heart leapt in his chest, and he rubbed his chest with nerves. "Sounds complicated."
"Not complicated,” you hummed, "I mean, I would like to call him my boyfriend but we've been talking and we've been on a couple of dates. But we haven't talked about what we are. Which is fine, I don't need a label to tell me how I feel about him."
"How do you feel about him?" he asked when you trailed off.
"I really really like him. And I trust him a lot too, and I could see myself falling in love with him. I just need to trust myself, you know? I'm just afraid to fuck it up with him. Like, I have his heart in my hands and I'm afraid l'Il break it. His been through so much and I don't want to be added on to list of how I fucked it up."
Jason's heart went out to you, and could understand where you were coming from. He is on the same boat as you.
"Sounds like this is a conversation you need to have with him," he said, voice a little rough. He cleared his throat and you nodded. "Not with some vigilante." You let out a wet laugh, and wiped your eyes when you realized you were crying.
“Yeah, guess you're right," you said. "Sorry for putting that all on you. You might have some relationship problems of your own."
"I wouldn't say that," he muttered, and you could hear movement from behind you. Once you heard the familiar click, you moved to sit on your knees and turned around, leaning your forearms on the window sill. "Thanks for the food.”
"Wasn't much but thanks for listening to a random cizitians worries.”
“It's what we do," he said, getting a genuine laugh from you and Jason smiled.
One of his favourite sounds and he'll never get tired of it. He gave you a two finger salute and ran down the stairs.
You stood up and watched as he disappeared. You bit your lip to keep from smiling and leaned out the window to grab the dishes. He was an interesting person, you had to admit
And if you meet him again well you wouldn't be opposed to that.
And meet him you did.
Three days later, you're in your room finishing some homework when you hear a thud outside your window. Setting your books aside, you crawl off your bed and towards your window. You opened your window with a smile. “One would think you're here to- holy shit! Are you okay?" you exclaimed when you saw his bleeding arm.
Red Hood looked up and you could feel the scowl behind his helmet. "Are you ever sleeping?"
"Do you ever not get hurt while being a hero?" you shot back. He bristled and nodded in satisfaction when he didn’t respond. “Are you okay though? That looks like it hurts.”
“Fine,” he grunted, “just a graze.”
“Just a graze,’ he says while bleeding,” you mocked, giving him a look. "You've been shot at, forgive me if I don't believe you.”
"Believe what you like. I don't care."
"Well someone's grumpy," you said and opened the way. “Come, let’s get that fixed before you bleed to death.”
“Are you always this sarcastic?" he asked, but didn't move. You stepped back and put your hands on your hips and raised an eyebrow.
"I don't bite," you answered, and quirked your lip. "Unless asked."
"I'll take that as a yes," he said with a laugh. Shaking his head, he ducked through the window with a groan. "You don't strike me as someone who invites people over,” he said, looking around the room as he followed you.
“I'm not, this is just repaying you for saving my life a couple of months ago." You gestured towards the chair as you went to the bathroom. "Have a seat. I'll be back.” After rummaging through your bathroom, you found the first aid kit and came back to find Red Hood sitting with his jacket off.
You pulled a chair closer to him, and set the kit down before opening it. "It’s going to sting a bit," you warned, and he only grunted. "Okay then," you said and started cleaning the bullet wound. "Good news, you don't need stitches."
"Bad news?" he asked and you startled, not expecting him to say anything.
"It might scar but I doubt it."
“What’s one more scar?” he questioned and you eyed him after you taped the gauze. “What?”
“Nothing,” you said, averting your gaze back to his arm. You rolled down his sleeve, only to give your hands something to do. “Hurt anywhere else?”
“Nah, that was the best of it,” he said and crossed his arms. “Are you a nurse or something?”
“Or something,” you answered. You’re unsure how you know, but you know that he’s giving you a flat look. “Engineer student,” you said with a little wave. “I happen to get injuries a lot, and instead of going to the doctors, I learned to treat myself properly. It’s come in handy a few times.”
“So you know how to do stitches?”
You shook your head and leaned back into the chair. “In theory, sure. But I’ve never had to do them. I’ve always gone to the doctors if I need them.”
“Guess I could be your practice dummy,” he mused and you leaned over slightly to poke his side.
“Don’t even think about it,” you said, poking him again. To which he slapped your hand away. “I’m not going to be responsible for scaring Red Hood even more.”
“I think if it came from you, I think I wouldn’t mind.”
Flushing, you turned away from him and sniffed. “Well regardless, this is a one time thing. Don’t expect it to happen again.”
Except it did.
Over the course of the week, Red Hood would come by unexpectedly. Whether to hide out from his partners, or in need of a nurse that he felt safe coming to you or simply to talk to someone.
And each night you sat in your room, waiting. It was never the same time but always early enough that you wouldn’t be going to sleep late. Despite your messed up sleep schedule, Red Hood was determined to fix it.
And every night, your feelings grew a little more. But you never acted on them, your heart belonged to Jason, even if you hadn’t realized it yet.
March 22
Y/n (10:20 am)
So you know that crush I have on red hood?
Ellie
The one that you squashed after falling for Jason?
Yes I remember
Y/n
It came back full force
I think I’m in love
Ellie
Y/n I swear
It’ll go away eventually
And how?
You’ve never met him
Y/n
I’ve met him twice
Ellie
The only time you’ll meet a hero or whatever is if one you’re a criminal or two you need help
And I doubt it’s the first one
Y/n
Hey!
I can be a criminal if I wanted too
Ellie
Yeah but your too nice and in love to be one
Y/n
Touché
Anyways, I’ve meet him and the second time we’ve talked
He’s nice
Ellie
You can not fall for people who are nice y/n
That’s how you get hurt
Y/n
What about Jason?
Ellie
I think he’s different
The both of you have been hurt too many times and you both know that
So you’re taking the time to get to know each othere
Y/n
When’d you get so wise?
Ellie
Someone had to when you moved out
Y/n
Listen here you little shit
Ellie
I’m listening
Y/n
Asshole
Ellie
You know what would be funny?
If Jason turned out to be Red Hood
Ha! You fell for the same dude twice
Y/n
Why would you say that?
ELLIE
WHY
WHY
WOULD
YOU
SAY
THAT
Ellie
It’s a JOKE
Y/n
IT'S NOT A VERY FUNNY ONE
IT'S LIKE SAYING CONNER IS SUPERBOY
Conner (1:30 pm)
WHY WOULD YOU TELL ELLIE IM SUPERBOY
Y/n
It was a JOKE
It’s not like you actually are
Conner
Y/n
ARE YOU ACTUALLY
Conner
NO
Y/n
Holy shit
It was suppose to be a joke
Conner
NOT A REALLY FUNNY ONE
Y/N
You don’t say
Conner
Why’d you even say it anyways?
Y/n
She started it
Telling me that Jason could be red hood
And that I fell for him twice
Which is insane
Conner
Absolutely insane
Doesn’t have a reason to be him anyways
I mean RH is mean and not really a hero, you know?
Who shoots at people and almost kills them?
That's not Jason at all
Jason’s sweet and caring and the total opposite of RH
Y/n
I’m telling Jason you think he’s sweet and caring
Conner
I can see why he likes you
You’re both the same
Y/n
Sweet and caring?
Conner
Go away
Y/n
Nah
Your dating my sister
Your stuck with me forever
Conner
Or until we break up
Y/n
True
But then you'll die :)
Conner
somehow, that smiley face makes it worst
Y/n
:)
You hated your sister. Like sure, you love her and any given time you wouldn't mind talking to her. But at this moment while you were pacing your room. You really hated your sister.
You know what would be funny? . If Jason turned out to be Red Hood. Ha! You fell for the same dude twice.
You couldn't stop thinking about her words, and your curiosity ran too deep for you to leave it alone. You opened your laptop ready to go snooping on Batman's computer but you stopped yourself and started pacing.
"If Jason wanted me to know, he’d tell me, right?" you asked out loud. "But then again, he wouldn't tell me because he isn't Red Hood." Turning, you walked back, hands moving in front of you.
"But then again, if he was him then he had good reasons for not telling me." Turn, walk. "But if it is him, does that mean the whole family's a hero family?" you questioned and groaned. "Oh! That would make sense. All those nights helping his brothers with something.”
Turn, walk. “It would be so embarrassing if he was. All the things I said to Red Hood about Jason. And vide versa,” you said in realization. You stopped walking and covered your face with your hands. “The conversation I should have had with Jason instead of Red Hood. Plus I told him I had a crush on Red Hood! Oh no!
“And if he is actually Red Hood, it would be an invasion of privacy if I look into it.”
You stared at your laptop as you chewed your lip in thought. "Fuck it," you said, and dived onto the bed. Moving your laptop to your lap, you began typing away praying that Batman doesn't notice your presence.
Once entering the back door you created, you began your search. It didn't take long to find what you were looking for and you spent the next twenty minutes reading everything Batman had on Red Hood
You closed your computer and fell back onto your bed, covered your face with your hands in defeat. Why? Why couldn't you leave well enough alone? Why did you have to let your curiosity run wild? And why did you have to listen to your sister? Questions you didn't know the answers to, and none were important. There was only one that needed an answer.
What are you going to do now that you know the truth?
You couldn't talk to anyone about it, and the one person you could, doesn’t know that you know.
Sitting back down, you opened your laptop with the intention of getting rid of the backdoor to Batman's computer. Just as you were deleting it, something caught your attention.
Still not knowing better, you followed it and covered your mouth in shock.
The Joker was out, and he was on the hunt.
Y/n (2:23 am)
I hope your doing okay
54 notes · View notes
clarisse0o · 3 days
Text
Camp Wiegman-Part 72
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
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Alternative Universe: Military School
Words: 5K
Masterlist
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Monday, March 21; 6:30 AM - Dormitory
The atmosphere on this Monday morning is very heavy. It isn't Lucy who came to do the daily check. It seems that information about last night's incident has been escalated higher than expected. It’s crazy how a minor altercation could have such wide-reaching consequences. When I asked Ingrid about it, she said it was beyond her control. Wiegman was apparently notified last night by students who complained, and it seems this has landed Alba in serious trouble. It looks like she’ll be stuck with Lucy all day. I find it excessive, but according to Ingrid, Wiegman wanted to impose a severe punishment on someone who is in their final year. I hadn’t noticed before, but it seems several people witnessed the dispute from behind their windows. Alexia is furious to learn we’ve been spied on like this. Fortunately, nothing serious was revealed. It’s safe to say there’s no point in discussing it with Ale this morning. I didn’t try to stop her when she stormed out of the room this morning. I did make sure to thank Ingrid for the information before we went our separate ways. I was about to join my roommate at that moment, but Misa intercepted me as I was leaving.
"Hey."
"Hi."
She seems really uncomfortable. I think I know why she’s here. We might not get along, but we’re connected by our loved ones who have issues. We witnessed a conversation that should have stayed private. The difference between her and me is that I know the answers to her questions, and she must suspect as much. I abandon the idea of joining Ale to stay with Misa, who looks quite worried.
"People seem pretty excited this morning..." she comments.
I smile sadly. I can tell she’s trying to make small talk. She probably doesn’t know what’s going on. If I know, it’s because I have good relations with the instructors. I nervously run my hand through my hair. If I were in her place, I’d appreciate being informed, so I go ahead.
"Listen, I just learned that Alba’s in serious trouble because of her outburst last night. She’s going to be stuck with Bronze for the day."
"Really?" she asks, surprised. "Damn... How do you know?"
"Uh, Engen. She just informed Ale. She left angry. I was planning to join her."
I congratulate myself on coming up with such a realistic excuse. If we know, it’s only because we hang out with our instructor outside of here.
"This is ridiculous! This situation is going too far!"
"I agree."
"Bronze did this?"
"No, Wiegman was informed. She’s just following orders, I suppose..."
"You seem close with her. Can’t you talk to her?"
"I’d like to, but when the orders don’t come from her, there’s not much she can do."
She bites her lip and shakes her head. She looks distressed. I hope they haven’t planned anything for the weekend because Alba is likely to be stuck here because of this situation.
"Thanks... You’re nicer than I expected."
"Uh, thanks, I guess."
We laugh together. In reality, I’ve never quite known what to make of her. She’s intriguing. She’s always been cold from the start. I was surprised that Alba was dating her, but then again, she must be nicer than we all imagine.
"We didn’t start off well; I’m sorry. I was afraid you might be interested in Alba someday. She’s always shown interest in you since you arrived, whereas I’ve had my eye on her for a long time," she admits.
I smile at her honesty. I suspected her behavior was related to Alba. She used to give me dagger looks every time she saw us laughing together.
"You don’t have to apologize; I understand. She made advances, but I turned her down right from the start. I’m in a situation I’m happy with my girlfriend, and I have no intention of looking elsewhere. So you can be at ease."
She nods again. I can tell she’s holding back questions.
"Go on, it’s my day of charity, so ask me the questions that are bothering you."
"Oh no—"
"Yes, I insist," I giggle. "Take advantage of it, it doesn’t happen every day."
"No, I was just thinking that you’re close with Ale. Alba really values your friendship. She thought Alexia was very lonely before you came."
"That’s true. We’ve become very close."
"She must confide in you a lot."
I smile, understanding where she’s going with this.
"Yes. I know everything that’s going on, but it’s not my place to say."
"Do you know her girlfriend?"
"Yes. I’ve seen her before. She’s from Manchester."
"Yes, Alba knows that, but she doesn’t know who knows, and I think that’s what’s bothering her. She realizes it’s serious and she doesn’t know if the girl is decent."
"She’s good for her, I can assure you. She’s the love of her life. If Alexia doesn’t reveal her identity, it’s because she’s afraid Alba won’t accept her. It would be a disaster for her; she’s only known her sister as family before her girlfriend and me."
"I see..."
"Well, you know what? Try to pass on this message to her before tonight so she can calm down. As for me, I’ll go see Bronze to see if I can change her mind about the confrontation tonight."
"I don’t think you’ll manage. They almost fought last night because of Alba. She’s out of control when she’s angry, and I doubt Bronze will let this discussion go on without a mediator."
"You think?"
"Definitely. Negotiate our presence at the meeting instead. Maybe our presence will reassure them."
She’s probably right. Lucy won’t risk leaving them alone after last night. I’ll need to persuade her not to repeat anything to Jenni then.
"Okay," I sigh. "We’ll go with that."
"Cool... Thanks for your help."
"You don’t have to thank me. I’m doing it for Alexia. But it was nice talking to you."
She gives me a shy smile in response. I think I might have at least managed to bury the hatchet with this conversation, so that’s a win.
"If you want to know, I was a bit annoyed that you managed to be so well-connected in such a short time. You hadn’t done anything to make friends, yet you were the center of everyone’s attention when you arrived. I never figured out how you did it," she laughs.
"It’s thanks to Ale that I got into the group. That’s why I owe her so much. As for the attention from other students, I could have done without it, you know," I giggle.
"Not surprising," she laughs. "It must have been really overwhelming."
"Yeah, but it’s all over now, and that’s a relief."
"People eventually get used to everything," she finishes with a shrug.
I nod and open the door to the cafeteria.
"Want to eat with us?" I offer.
"I’d love to, thanks."
"Just don’t expect a good atmosphere. I’ve never seen Ale in such a foul mood."
She laughs, saying she wouldn’t expect anything different given the situation. I really hope everything gets resolved quickly.
Monday, March 21; 1:45 PM - Classroom Building
I make my way through the students heading to their classes as I head to Lucy’s office. I haven’t had the chance to see or speak with her yet. However, just seeing her from afar with a tense expression and Alba slumped on the table at noon makes it clear that their morning wasn’t the most glorious.
-   Bronze,   I call out as she’s about to close the door to her office.
I see her frown before spotting me in the crowd. She relaxes and lets me in before shutting the door. Before I can say a word, I find myself pressed against the door with her lips on mine. I cling to her hair, but it’s quickly interrupted by a throat clearing. I blush seeing Ingrid in the room, but Lucy doesn’t seem bothered, sighing into my neck. Her friend watches us with a small amused smile while I am mortified. I don’t particularly enjoy public displays, but I endure it knowing Lucy needs affection right now. I don’t even dare to ask the question I came for, fearing it might upset her.
-   Can we just go back to the weekend?   she murmurs.
I laugh, running my hand through her hair and kissing her temple.
-   I’d like that too.  
-   Tell me you’re here to explain all this nonsense. Alba didn’t want to tell me anything, no matter how much I tried to break her this morning.  
I raise an eyebrow. I expected her to figure it out herself.
-   What?  
-   I thought you’d understand. Alba was worried because we came back just before the scheduled time. Since it had never happened before, she thought she was never coming back. She knows Ale is seeing someone, but she doesn’t know who it is.  
-   Oh... Is this all because she doesn’t know about Jenni? It’s absurd.  
-   Well, I’d be annoyed too if Joan didn’t tell me who he’s seeing. Can you imagine the worry she must have if she hadn’t come back?  
She sighs and steps back. I understand she might not get it since she doesn’t have siblings, but I do.
-   And so what? I’m not going to force Alexia to reveal Jenni’s identity.  
-   I spoke with Misa this morning,   I say, raising her eyebrow.   We’d like to be present tonight. At least we can help ease the atmosphere. I can’t see Alexia until tonight, so I won’t have time to talk to her before then.  
-   Okay,   she sighs.   Let’s do that. Now I’ll walk you to class,   she says, checking her watch.   You’re late after all.  
-   It’s not a big deal.  
-   It will be if he doesn’t accept you. You won’t get your weekend if Wiegman is in a bad mood.  
-   I have Johnson. I’ll just use your charm and we’ll be set.  
I give her a wink that makes her roll her eyes with a small smile. She kisses me one last time and waves goodbye to Ingrid. We head towards my classroom. This day feels endless; I can’t wait for it to be over.
  Monday, March 21; 5:15 PM - Lucy’s Office  
I’m slouched in a chair in front of Lucy’s desk, waiting for the others to arrive. Misa was the first to come. She chose the chair next to mine to keep the Putellas siblings as far away as possible, just in case. I managed to catch her between classes to tell her to come here after school. Ingrid isn’t here, but I’m not surprised. She never involves herself in problems that don’t concern her unless she has to. Lucy sips her coffee while observing us. Misa, who’s in class with Alba and Ale, let us know she was the first to leave the locker rooms after their sports session. She didn’t want to wait for them because she suspects they’re taking their time.
-   If this keeps up, I’m going to go get them,   my girlfriend says, annoyed.
Just then, there’s a knock on the door. Alexia is the first to enter, closely followed by her brother. You can feel the palpable tension radiating from them. When Ale sees me, she looks surprised at first but then relieved. She immediately sits down next to me.
-   Sorry for the delay,   she says to my girlfriend.
-   No problem. We’re just waiting for you, Alba. I don’t have all day.  
Alba clenches her fists and takes the last available seat next to Misa. No one knows how this conversation will end, but Lucy is the one who takes charge, opening the proceedings.
-   Well. We’re finally gathered after a fifteen-minute wait,   she says with a disconcerting calm.   Don’t think I’m thrilled to be here for such a ridiculous matter. What happened yesterday is unacceptable. Private matters should not be exposed like they were yesterday. I won’t force anyone to talk, but if you need to, now is the time. Misa and Ona insisted on being here to support you. We’ll act as mediators if needed. It’s not something that’s offered to you every day.  
Her opening statement leads to silence. For a long time, no one dares to speak. Alexia focuses intently on her nails while her sister turns her head away from us. I exchange a look with Misa that says a lot about our thoughts.
-   I don’t understand why you don’t just say who it is,   Alba says very calmly.
Lucy, who has been watching us, leans back in her seat, crossing her arms while making sure to keep her coffee in hand. She’s understood that she’s just started the discussion.
-   Because you always act excessively when it comes to my relationships. I’ve never been able to have a decent friend. Either they ran away because you were too protective, or you made me lose them by making us change schools.  
-   Oh, and you think I enjoyed doing that? You have a talent for always picking the wrong people! Most of them weren’t even worth associating with.  
-   Excuse me, but I wouldn’t have appreciated someone choosing my friends for me either,  I interject.
-   You have nothing to say,   she snaps at me.   You don’t know what kind of mess we were in. And besides, you’re not exactly good at choosing your friends either!  
Lucy sits up at these words. I knew she would defend me, but I didn’t need her to do it.
-   You don’t know anything about my life either! Who do you think you are to judge everyone around you? It’s honorable to want to protect your sister from the world, but we live in a world where suffering is not an option. We all go through tough times, but that doesn’t mean everyone else has to suffer too! Yes, I had a painful past, yes, I struggled to overcome it, but I did it! Alexia is challenging you to show that she’s finally ready to live without you in her life, and you’re having a hard time accepting it, that’s all! You’ll have to face the fact that she’s not the little girl you used to defend at all costs!  
My retort surprises her enough to silence her completely. When I catch Lucy’s eye, I notice her smile. I feel proud of myself for managing to say this without stuttering. I’m no longer that defenseless girl who arrived here at the beginning of the year. I’m finally starting to regain my confidence.
-  Ona is right, Ale murmurs.   You’re my sister, and I understand your intentions, but you’re really being a pain. I’ve never regretted following you here, but you really need to stop covering for me. I can make my own decisions now.  
-   I’m sorry you feel that way, she sighs.
She stands up, turning his back on us. Our words seem to have affected her more than she wanted. After a moment of reflection, she turns back around.
-   Are you afraid I’ll judge your girlfriend? Does she even exist?  
-   Of course she exists. If I’m not telling you who she is, it’s because I fear your reaction.  
-   If you say that, then I must know her. Are you back with Laia?  
-   Eww, no!  
I laugh at the image. It’s true; she did date her. I almost forgot how she no longer hangs out with us much. Ale sighs, casting a glance my way. She’s trying to figure out what to do, but it’s not up to me to decide. So, I shrug.
-   You know her too, Ona?   she suddenly realizes.
-   Well, yes. I thought I had already mentioned that we spend our weekends together lately.  
-   With your girlfriend, I assume, she murmurs, staring at my neck.
I turn around, burying my head in my hands. Lucy seems to find this scene amusing, even though it’s all her fault. She seriously needs to calm her bloodlust in the future.
-   Anyway, she grumbles.   If I promise to accept her, would you be willing to introduce her to me? We could have a man-to-man conversation that way.  
I roll my eyes. Alexia sighs and, against all odds, surprises everyone by conceding.
-   Her name is Jenni. Jenni Hermoso  
I turn to see Alba’s reaction. She doesn’t seem to recognize the name at first. I then remember she doesn’t know the names. There’s a spark in her eyes as she makes the connection.
-   Hermoso ? Instructor Hermoso ?  
-   You promised not to get angry,   I remind her.
She takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. Everything must have clicked into place in her mind.
-  You were the student who had a relationship with her? Are you kidding me? You let Luna get expelled in your place!? 
-  It was her idea,  Alexia defends herself.  She wanted to leave here. 
Seeing that she was starting to lose her composure despite her promise not to get angry, I glance at Misa to signal her. It’s her moment to act. She understands the message and stands up.
-  Remember what I told you this afternoon,  Misa says.
-  How can I believe that she’s a good match for her!? She’s much older than she is! 
-  Not that much, Lucy replies. Only six years. 
We all turn to Lucy. Her expression is cold. It’s clear she will defend her best friend at all costs. Alba turns pale, but the reasons are different from what I expected.
-  A-are you going to tell Wiegman? Alexia will be expelled if you do! 
That’s true; I hadn’t considered that option. She doesn’t know that Lucy is my girlfriend.
-  No,  she says.  The matter is closed, and I have no intention of jeopardizing a student’s future at this point in the year. 
She nods with relief. We exchange a small, discreet smile. Living our relationship in front of my loved ones is getting increasingly difficult.
-  I want to meet her. 
-  I’m not sure that’s a good idea,  Ale comments.
-  Why not? You want me to accept her, don’t you? So, I want to meet her. I want to make sure she takes care of you. 
Alexia looks at me with concern. It’s a good idea. I would have suggested that we accompany her for this encounter, but Lucy would never agree. Too many people already know about us, and we can’t risk putting ourselves in more danger. One wrong conversation and everything could be ruined. I still nod gently to confirm that she should agree. She bites her lip and turns to her sister.
-  Okay. But I’m warning you, you better not threaten her or anything. I really care about her, so you better not mess things up. We both know how you can lose your temper over nothing. 
-  Yeah, yeah, I’ll try to stay calm,  she mutters.
-  Well, I think that’s settled then. 
-  Yes. Thank you, Ale replies.
-  It’s my job. Now, you all better get out of here. I have other work waiting for me. 
-  Can I stay? For my homework. 
-  If you want, but I won’t have time to help you with your revisions tonight. 
-  That’s okay. I was told to slow down, so I’m not sure I’ll be studying tonight. 
-  I don’t know who told you that, but it’s very good advice. 
I laugh as I get up. The others follow suit and put the two extra chairs back in front of Ingrid’s desk. I tell them I’ll join them once I’m finished here. Unlike me, they are very eager to leave.
-  If you could avoid getting into fights before then, I’d appreciate it. 
-  We’ll try,  Alexia replies with amusement.  Have a good evening. 
-  Good evening to you too. 
They leave, leaving the door open. I would have preferred them to close it, but it’s not a big deal. Lucy is already engrossed in her computer, so I take out my things.
-  That went pretty well, didn’t it?  Lucy asks.
-  Yes, it did. I think it’ll be fine now. 
-  Hmm. Alexia realizes we won’t be there for the meeting between the two buddy, right? 
I laugh and nod.
-  I think she suspects as much, but I’ll remind her. 
-  Good. What a shitty day. You better not make a mistake this week. I don’t want to end up spending my weekend here as well. 
-  I’ll try to be on my best behavior,  I tease her.
-  It’s not funny. I have a meeting with Wiegman on Friday. I’m going to give her my resignation letter. 
-  Oh, really? 
I didn’t even know she had written it. Anyway, she must have prepared it during the day.
-  Aren’t you happy?  she smiles.  It feels like the end is near. 
-  It’s not that I’m not happy, it’s just that it adds more pressure,  I giggle.
She rolls her eyes with amusement. I’ve never had the blues about an exam. Even my high school diploma seemed less important compared to now.
-  It’ll be fine, don’t worry. You’re really putting too much pressure on yourself for nothing. 
-  Hmm. 
-  Finish your homework and then go join your friends. It’ll do you good. Alexia is probably looking forward to talking to you. 
I nod and get to work. She’s right. I could tell she hoped I would follow her advice.
-  Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you,  I say, making her laugh.
-  I don’t know either. I often wonder that myself,  she teases.
-  Oh, and by the way. You’re not planning to talk about what happened with Jenni, are you? 
-  I would have if it hadn’t ended so well. We’ll see how things turn out now. One thing’s for sure, it’s their problem, not ours. 
I bite my lip at her response. She’s right, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying about my friend. I hope everything will turn out okay for her. I really don’t want to have to pick up the pieces.
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Text
Based off Young Justice canon, the comic canon and canon by... Me 😊 want to make this apart of the fanfic I'm doing.
Nightwing stands a few feet from a man wearing a Red cloak, a hood over his head, a black mask covering his face.
Nightwing: Jason?
Red Hood remains silent.
Nightwing: I know it was you at the harbor. The real Jason Todd. Batman doubts it's you, but I'm believe you. You're alive... I missed-
Red Hood shakes with rage, quickly charging at Nightwing and attacking him.
Nightwing: Not the family reuinon I hoped for.
Red Hood (calm, angry tone): We're not fucking family.
He throws a punch, but Nightwing dodges.
Nightwing: I'm getting an hint you're mad at me.
Jason growls and throws another punch, striking Nightwing in the shoulder.
Hood: Mad? No. Mad that you let me die? Mad that you forgot about me when I died? Mad I was buried in a makeshift cemetery? I'm not mad. Filled with unmitigated rage, yes, but not simply mad.
With each question he went for another hit on Nightwing, managing to get a few strikes in.
Nightwing (confused and surprised): But that wasn't Hey- That wasn't me! Stop it!
Nightwing grabs Jason's fist mid punch.
Nightwing: I learned about all you've done and said, but I am not your enemy.
Jason breathes heavy trying to break free. In his anger he knees Nightwing in the stomach instead. On the ground, he crawls back as Jason stalks towards him.
Jason: Not my enemy? You weren't there to stop my death, you weren't there when I had to break out of a coffin. You weren't there when I wandered the streets with no memory, because I was declared dead. End of my story, right? Would've been until Talia found me, took me in, pushed me in the Lazarus pit. You know what sucks about that whole Lazarus pit dip though?
Nightwing (trying to ease the tension): It's sticky?
Jason: You're mind isn't the same. Especially when you remember the man who let your fucking murder live. Then there's you. You're not my enemy. You're an enabler, Dick Grayson.
Nightwing: I was broken when you died.
Jason (chuckling maliciously): That's a good lie. Hm, I've got a lie to tell you too, but you should see my face again. It was so busy at the harbor with Bruce denying my existence again. Let's change that, shall we.
Jason removes his face mask, he was the same man from the harbor, the man that was the former second Robin, the one who died and the one who stared at Nightwing with hatred.
Jason: I forgive you and I won't gut you like the rat you are.
Jason pulls out a large dagger, but before he can strike Nightwing kicks Jason in the stomach, knocking him to the ground.
Nightwing stood up.
Nightwing: I'm not going to hurt you, Jason-
Jason (chuckling): That's great, it must've been exhausting since you've done it before
Nightwing: Hear me out.
Jason: The stabbing you multiple times is a better option.
Nightwing holds out his hand to help Jason up.
Nightwing: Please.
Jason: ...You've got five minutes.
Jason swats Nightwing's hand away and stood up.
Jason: Mostly because I'm pretty sure Ra and Talia are distracted by your idiotic friends.
Nightwing: Oh yeah the titans. Awesome, I like your hair.
Jason: Not a good start.
Nightwing sighs.
To be continued...
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spahhzy · 2 days
Text
Ruby: Give up Cinder, it's over...
Team RWBY currently had chased down an injured Cinder, who has made her escape through the sandy streets of Vacuo
Cinder when she heard that just began to laugh.
Team RWBY looked at each other before suddenly a door could be heard, and boots echoed loudly against the chapel floor as a mop of blonde hair and narrow blue eyes stalked toward Cinder.
Weiss: Jaune....
Jaune paid her no heed, just marched at Cinder with a purpose.
Cinder, holding her injured human arm, continued laughing as Jaune.
Cinder: Oh Jaune~
Jaune said nothing continued his pace and finally met Cinder at the altar.
Cinder: What a night~
Jaune just grabbed Cinder with both hands and lifted her up by the hems of her shirt. She was dangling in the air.
Cinder: Fresh off a kill, and back for more, eh?
Jaune: Penny still alive.
Ruby felt relief wash over her as Cinder looked on in disbelief.
Cinder: Now that's not funny...
Cinder used her grim hand to suddenly rip away from Jaune's grip before manifesting a glass blade and swipe at him only for Jaune to block it with his own.
Team RWBY looked to want to help, but Jaune's glare at them said to 'stay out of this'.
Cinder: All this-all this rage! All directed at me, and for what!? You know, if you actually let me finish a sentence, you might learn something! You might learn that we're not so different... you might learn something about yourself!
Jaune: You need to learn to shut up.
Cinder: You know it's sad, really...it's like you don't care to see the good side in me... I mean, you did it for Neo... maybe I should try to kill her next, hmm?~
Enraged even further, Jaune quickly swiped at Cinders glass blade before raising a foot, which connected roughly against Cinders chest, sending her crashing into the pews as Team RWBY looked on in worry.
Cinder just laughed, slowly getting up.
Cinder: Is all this for you or for me? You must know that I'm a lost cause. Oh, but Jauney, I have hopes for you~yes, I got great hopes for you...
Cinder wagging a finger at him.
Cinder: Come on, Arc, don't stop now, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?
Jaune just grabbed Cinder again and tossed her into one of the stain glass windows, shattering it as her body fell to the floor, but still Cinder wasn't down for the count even as her aura shimmered.
Cinder grabbed two shards of glass as she saw Jaune make her way to her.
Cinder: You just can't get it through your thick skull!
Jaune stopped walking as he looked at the broken Crocea Mors before deciding to ultimately sheath it and looking at his gloved hands... before he removed his gloves, too, giving them a nice pop before resuming his walk towards Cinder, who had just risen up holding the two shards of glass tightly in her head.
Cinder: WE BOTH EXIST BECAUSE OF THEM!
Jaune: Give up! You've lost!
Cinder attempted to swipe at with one of the shards of glass, but he was able to easily grab her hand and delivered a shot to the bottom right side of her body, causing her to drop one of the shards of glass.
Cinder just giggled maniacally through the pain as she attempted to swipe at him with the other hand, but Jaune side stepped it and delivered a quick jab to her face, causing her to drop the remaining shard as her aura flickered.
Jaune just delivered three more body strikes to Cinder, who just took it before Jaune landed a thunderous haymaker to Cinder chin, sending her atop the altar.
Team RWBY still looked unsure of how this was going to go, as they wanted to incapacitate and lock down Cinder to get her maiden powers transferred from Ozpin old machine...but if Jaune was going to kill her than...she could very well give the powers to whoever she thinks of...
Cinder: Aww, Jauney, your time away from me has been so worth it~
Jaune says nothing as he struck Cinder across the face again.
Cinder: ooooh~ that's why you do it. You did the same with Tyrian... you like the way it feels...it's what you need!
Jaune just delivered another strike to Cinder face before grabbing her midsection and lifting her up with his strength, Cinder just dangled helplessly, all with a smile on her face as Jaune threw her to the ground hard.
The force of the slam cause Cinders aura to finally shatter, but Cinder didn't care as she scrambled to sit up.
Cinder: Come on, baby~ beat me till your knuckles bleed, but why stop their? You know theirs only one way to stop me! Come on Jaune Come on ki-
Before she could get a word out, a mechanicle hand punched her in the face, effectively knocking her out.
Jaune just huffed in and out as his anger began to simmer down.
Yang: I think she's talked enough.
Jaune just said nothing as he looked at Cinders unconscious body.
Ruby slowly walked up to her friend.
Ruby: Jaune... did you mean it? Did you mean it when you said Penny was okay?
Jaune slowly looked at Ruby before nodding as he suddenly felt Ruby hug him tightly.
Ruby: Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank!
Jaune was able to gently pry away from Ruby's grip as Yang hoisted up the fall maiden on her shoulders, Blake walked up to him.
Blake: Are you going to be okay?
Jaune just nodded, and Blake gave him a look over, not entirely convinced after seeing that display.
Jaune: I'll be fine, Blake...I promise. go your leader is just about to burst joy.
Blake said nothing but nodded as she followed her team leader and partner.
Jaune took one more glance at Cinder before leaving without a word.
Weiss watched briefly as he disappeared into a gathering crowd.
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lau219 · 2 days
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Enemies with Benefits
Part 21: (1 of 2)
Previous part here
I know I said that this chapter would be where we see some real vulnerability from Tommy, but I decided to split this chapter up. So here’s part 1 of 2. Part 2 coming very soon!
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“Look, what’s done is done, Tommy,” Polly said as she stood near the window in Tommy’s office, resting against the sill as she looked at him from across the room. “He’s already here, Arthur’s already given him the money. So the question now is, how do we move forward?”
Still looking at Tommy, Polly raised her cigarette to her lips as she waited for him to respond.
Sitting in his desk chair, Tommy was faced in Polly’s general direction, but rather than looking at her, he was focusing on the wall just beyond her shoulder, trying to force himself to calm down. Everything that was happening causing the blood in his veins to boil and rush, and he wasn’t sure he was able to speak yet without yelling.
Arthur. Fucking Arthur. The fucking moron was absolutely brainless.
After all these years, after all the false claims and repeated broken promises, he still yearned for their father’s attention and affection, and fell for it every time when Arthur Sr. would weasel his way back into their lives temporarily. Arthur always hoped and believed that their father actually cared for his children and that a reconciliation was in the cards, and every time, those hopes were quickly dashed when their father would yet again disappear as soon as he got whatever it was he really needed, once again dropping any and all contact for God knew how long, until the next time he’d inevitably present himself again.
The last time it happened, it had left a larger than ever dent in the family’s bank account and had thrown Arthur into an incredibly deep depression, not to mention causing the reactivation of Tommy’s involvement in multiple less-than-legal deals and connections that he’d spent the previous two years slowly trying to remove himself from. Arthur had yet again helped their father use their name and money to cover his ass for debts he owed and promises he’d broken to others.
Tommy had sworn that as soon as the latest bout was resolved, he’d make it so that all this could never happen again. Once he’d found out Ada was pregnant, Tommy had immediately begun the process of moving them all to the States. No way was he going to let all this keep happening and for his nephew to be subjected to the same toxic shit they all had been subjected to. He was ready to finally operate cleanly and never have to deal with their father again. It was time for a new chapter, which is what he’d promised himself the very first day he’d made the final return home from service. And then he’d finally accomplished it, cutting the old ties and creating a new home base for them all here, making his mark in more legal ways and managing to keep his father away for the last four years.
But apparently, four years was the longest Arthur was able to remember what a piece of shit their father was before forgetting again, and when he had evidently reached out to Arthur two months ago, Arthur had all too eagerly responded.
Just as he’d told Tommy, Arthur Sr. originally claimed the reason for his visit was that he wanted to meet his grandson and also congratulate his sons on their success and see for himself all that they’d accomplished. But, unable to hide his own idiocy, Arthur had admitted to the family the other day that he’d given their father over ten thousand dollars to pay off multiple gambling debts he’d been unable to talk himself out of back in Birmingham. And these apparently were debts that had formidable payees, some of whom Tommy was all too familiar with from his own previous interactions with them. They all knew the success Tommy had made himself, and therefore had granted his father the permission to head to the U.S. to get them the money he owed.
Upon learning what Arthur had done, Tommy had immediately frozen his ability to access or use any of the family accounts, and he'd warned John that if a single additional cent went unaccounted for, he'd cut him off, too. Over the last few days, Arthur and Tommy hadn't spoken or seen each other, as Arthur had made himself scarce since the reaming Tommy had given him. And although he'd gotten what he needed, their father was still hanging around, having joined Arthur wherever the hell it was he'd slunk off to.
As he'd told Y/N, Tommy had planned on giving him a very harsh piece of his mind and then sending him packing the couple days after he'd arrived. However, they ended up having not seen each other again yet, and it made Tommy all the more angry and tense that he was still around and undoubtedly filling Arthur's head with more bullshit.
"Stop stewing over this and just let it go," Polly spoke again then, cutting into Tommy's thoughts. "It's only ten grand."
Now moving his eyes to Polly, Tommy finally spoke.
"You think I give a fuck about the money?" he asked rhetorically, his voice filled with anger. "It's the fucking fact that he's here, that he's just stirring the pot and filling Arthur's head with bullshit, and that he fucks with everyone every Goddamn time and none of you ever seem to fucking comprehend that he's a waste of fucking life!"
Tommy's voice had risen the longer he'd spoke, and he felt his blood boiling again. For fuck's sake, why did Polly never get angry about the right stuff?
"Besides you, Thomas, no one knows better than me what a piece of shit your father is," Polly said then, keeping her cool as she took another drag from her cigarette and looked back at him. "But you can't undo what Arthur's done, and despite your best efforts to control him, you'll have to put a tracking device on that idiot if you want to keep him from ever engaging with your father again. I accepted a long time ago that it's pointless -- he's never gonna give up the perfect picture of Daddy being who he wants him to be."
Tommy gave a bitter scoff, turning back to his desk and lighting a cigarette before he then replied to Polly.
"Well, he's gonna give it up. Because when they finally get back here, that perfect picture is gonna be lit on fucking fire."
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