#but mostly he's just really happy she's doing better

[arc-misadventures]

Friends AU side story: How does Jaune react to a Whit thanking him for the advice for his date with Fiona, and how are the Happy Huntresses dealing with a bubbly Fiona bragging about her date with Whit?

The New Hot Couple

Jaune was at the, Schnee Manor, he was waiting on, Whitely to come by to check on his progress on his new exercise regimes. But, he was tacking a while so, he decided to do some warmups by doing some simple pushups.

Jaune: One... Two... Three... Four... Fi...?

Whitely: Jaune!

Jaune: Whit, you're late, where were you? Ten... Eleven...

Whitely: Oh, sorry... I-I was just talking with, Fio.

Jaune: Oh? Fifteen... Fio? Sixteen... You mean, Fiona right? Seventeen...

Whitely: Yeah, I meant, Fiona. She calls me, Whit, so I call her, Fio. I thought she would be upset when I called her that, but she really likes it when I called her that!

Jaune: Forty... Pet names? Forty one... You better be careful, Whit. Forty two... You may be rushing into things, you don't want to jump down a hill only to realize you've jumped down into a gorge now do you? Forty eight...

Whitely: We're being slow. We don't want to rush things, sure we're at second base, but we're no where close to going to third base.

Jaune: Fifty...?! T-Third base? Whitely, you two have only gone on two dates, and you've already kissed her?!

Whitely: W-W-What!? We haven't kissed?! We haven't even held hands yet either!

Jaune: You haven't...?! Haa... Oh gods, Whitely... If you two haven't kissed yet that means your not even at first base!

Whitely: Wait, kissing is first base?

Jaune: Yes. Fifty two...

Whitely: T-Then what's third base?

Jaune: Fifty three... Second base is physical touching... Fifty four... Typically above the waist. Fifty five... Third base is physical touching, only this time it is below the waist. Fifty seven...

Whitely: B-Below the waist?!

Jaune: Or, more commonly know as getting laid. Fifty nine...

Whitely: Laid? What does that even mean...?!

Jaune: Sex, Whitely. Sixty one... Third base means you had sex. Sixty two...

Whitely: S-S-S-SEX?! W-We even haven't held hands yet?! Let alone kissed?! W-We're no where even close to having sex!?

Jaune: Sixty four... That's obvious, ya blushing virgin. Sixty five...

: SEX?! Whitely, what the hell are you talking about?!

Whitely: Ahh, it's nothing!

: Jaune! What is he talking about?!

Jaune face was mostly stuck on watching the ground as he was doing his push ups, but he didn't need to look up, and see who was emanating that cold icy rage.

Jaune: Seventy two... You better tell her, Whit. Seventy three... It won't hurt as much if you tell her yourself then it will if, Weiss finds out by accident. Seventy six...

Whitely: Okay... W-Weiss...?

Weiss: Yes?

Whitely: I... I have a... it's only been two dates... Does this count as having a girlfriend?

Weiss: A girlfriend?!

Jaune: Eighty... Ask her first if you're her boyfriend. Then you can say she's you're girlfriend. Eighty two... After the third date... Eighty three...

Weiss: Who is this 'girlfriend' you're talking about?

Whitely: Her name is, Fiona Thyme she's a sheep faunas, a huntress, a Happy Huntress actually, and she's she's really... She's really cute...

Weiss: What?! This is bullshit!

Whitely: What's bullshit about it?! I'm dating a sheep faunas, what's wrong with that?

Weiss: It's bullshit because my brother has a girlfriend, and my sister has a boyfriend, and I got nothing?!

Jaune: One hundred... Technically, Winter, and I aren't dating... One hundred, and one... I'm not sure what we are honestly. One hundred, and two...

Weiss: It still don't change the fact, they've had more action than than I've had!

Jaune: That's on you, but you don't hang out with other people to ask out on dates. Unless your secretly gay for, Ruby, or something. One hundred, and seven...

Weiss: Preposterous! I have no interest in the female form, much less, Ruby's! Although... Yang's on the other hand...?

Whitely: She's just a girl I have a crush on who I've asked out on a couple of dates. We actually have another date today this afternoon.

Weiss: You do?!

Jaune: You have another date? Then start your exercises! You need to work on building some muscles you twig! One hundred, and twenty five... And, count off out loud so I can here you!

Whitely: On it! O-One...

Weiss: ...

Whitely: T-Two...

Weiss: ...

Whitely: T-T-Three...?!

Weiss: Well, considering he never had to do any hard labour before... this is to be expected.

Jaune: Yeah, he's improved at least. One hundred, and thirty... He's capable of doing a pushup, before that... yeah. Hopefully he'll be something like me one day... One hundred, and thirty one... Granted I just keep upping the number of pushups I do because It's so easy. One hundred, and thirty...?!

: If it's so easy for you, then allow me to give you a challenge~!

Jaune: Huw? What are you planning to... GAH?!

Jaune grunted out in surprise as he felt a sudden weight upon on his back. He almost buckled, and fell when this sudden weight was placed upon him. He turned his head, and out of the corner of his eyes, and he saw what this sudden weight upon his back was, or more accurately: Who.

Jaune: What the...?! Winter, what are you doing?!

Winter: Giving you a challenged: Now start counting, Specialist Arc.

Jaune: Grr...! Yes, Ma'am! One... Two... Three... Four... Five... Six...

Whitely: Is this flirting?

Weiss: It's certainly looks like flirting... or, at least some kind of flirting?

Whitely: Do you think I could do this one day?

Weiss: Try to get at least one proper push up done, before you plan on picking up a girl, little brother.

Whitely: What? I could totally do it!

Weiss: Not unless you're as buff as, Jaune is. I mean look at him! He's doing push ups without sister on his back, and he's barely breaking a sweat!

Winter: What?! Are you taking this easy, Specialist Arc?!

Jaune: Twenty... No, Ma'am! Twenty one... Twenty two...

Winter: Then why isn't this more of a struggle for you, Specialist Arc?!

Jaune: Because, Ma'am. Twenty four... My grandfather told me that to be a, Huntsmen is to hold up the weight of the world on you! Twenty five... It's just...

Jaune turned his head to smile at, Winter.

Jaune: He never told me that the world would be so light~!

Winter: Eeep?!

A fierce blush spread across her face as she reeled back in shock.

Winter: W-Where do you get off saying something like that?!

Winter smacked, Jaune's head, startling him, and causing him to loose his balance, and drop down on his face.

Jaune: GAH?!

(Smash!)

Winter: Oh no?! Jaune?!

Whitely: Oh? That was smooth! I should remember that line...

Weiss: What?! Winter gets that kind of pick up line?! Where was this when he was flirting with me back in, Beacon?! This is totally unfair!

~~~

Back at the, Happy Huntresses 'secret' base a trio of, Huntresses watched as their resident faunas, a sheep faunas named, Fiona Thyme humming a too as she skipped about with a smile across her face.

RJM: ...

Fiona: Hmm~! Hmm~! Hmm~! Hm-Hmm~!

May: Sus?

Joanna: Sus.

May: Sus.

Robyn: Very sus.

The trio of huntresses walk towards their resident faunas, and fanned out, around her coming in from three separate angles of attack.

Fiona: Hmm~! Hmm~! Hmm...? Oh! Hey guys~! What's... what's up...?

The sheep faunas, lived up to their nature as she cowered under the gaze of three angry wolves staring down the defenseless little lamb.

Fiona: G-G-Guys...? W-W-What's wrong...?

May: She's happy...

Robyn: Too happy...

Fiona: Uhh...

Joanna: It reminds me of when, Robyn was happy...

May: Happy... Just as happy when, Jaune kissed her...

Joanna: But, even more so...

Fiona: Uhh...?

Robyn: That means she is happy because of something romantic...

May: Something romantic with that, Schnee boy.

Fiona: Uhh...?!

Joanna: But, the question remains then... Why is she so happy?

Robyn: A date...

May: Hmm?

Robyn: She's so happy, because she has a date~!

Fiona: UHHHHHHH?!

RJM: Tell what's going on!

Fiona: EEP?! I have a date! I have a date with, Whitely later today!

Robyn: I knew it!

May: She has a date?!

Joanna: Okay, lady spill the beans!

Fiona: H-He asked me on a date, a-and we're going to the carnival being held in, Unity Square! He's never been to a carnival before, s-so he asked me to go on a date with him to the carnival! A-And, I haven't gone to one in years, so I'm looking forward to this date with, Whitely!

Joanna: Okay... second question: Why, Whitely Schnee?

Fiona: Huw?

Robyn: Yeah, that's a good question. I still don't understand why your so... enamored with a, Schnee?

Fiona: Whitely! His name is Whitely!

May: She's defending him, and with such vitrail at that?

Joanna: She's fallen for him hard~!

Robyn: But, why? I mean... Whitely Schnee is the son of that bastard, Jacques Schnee? Why are you so interested in him?

Fiona: He may be, Jacques Schnee's son, but he is not his father! He may have been influenced by his father at first, but he is growing as a person, and is a kind, caring person. He wants to know what is afflicting the people of, Mantle so he, and his mother can help them. The SDC is getting ride of all the corruption it once had, and are now working to better help the people. And, Whitely is the heir apparent to the, SDC so he is making, Mantle, and Atlas a better place!

Fiona: He's kind, sweet, and a caring person! Sure I may be a bit older than him... but, he is more mature for his age! And, he's really cute little skinny twig~! I like, Whitely for who he is, not what he stands for! And, as angry as you, and others may be, I am going to keep dating him for as long as I wanted to!

Fiona: Besides... It's kinda nice to know that the worlds enemy of all the faunas son is dating a faunas... Honestly... I find that kinda hot~!

RJM: ...

Robyn: Fuck, she's got it bad...

Fiona: Huw?

Joanna: You got it bad for him girl~!

May: And, it is kinda hot that the enemy of all faunas son is dating one.

Robyn: Can you imagine it, the two of them get married, and the next head of the SDC is a faunas! Talking about pissing all over, Jacques' legacy!

Joanna: Oh gods that would be the peak of petty revenge!

May: The bastard would be rolling in his grave!

Fiona: A faunas as the head of the, SDC...? Having, Whitely's baby...? W-We're a little young for that guys!

May: Uhh, what?

Fiona: It's a little too fast for that too! I mean... I haven't held his hand yet, we haven't had our first kiss yet?! And, your recommend that I should have his babies?!

Joanna: N-No, Fiona! We're just saying how funny it would be if a faunas became the next head of the, SDC!

Fiona: But, Whitely is so cute~! Having a little mini version of him, with sheep ears... Oh, that would be so adorable~!

Fiona cupped her cheeks as a blush spread across her face as her mind ran wild with adorable little fantasies. Leaving the rest of the members of the, Happy Huntresses to look on in utter bewilderment.

RMJ: ...

May: Oh shit... she's gone baby crazy...

Joanna: Way to go, Robyn.

Robyn: Wha? Why are you blaming me?!

May: You are the one who lost it when you learned, Jaune was a father!

Robyn: N-No I did not.

Joanna: You two got into a heated debate with her on who would get his next kid!

Robyn: You heard that?!

May: EVERYONE DID?!

Robyn: Oh... Ohh shit...

///

I've done it, @lar-mx took a while, but I made a post with this photo! I even edited so his eyes would be blue!

Side note: What would be a good ship name for, Whitely x Fiona?

[fashionteahouse]

Ooo I got one can u do one where reader and Paul r in a long distance relationship due to the reader being in uni and they always have phone sex or sexting and reader surprises Paul at his surprise birthday party and they end the night with uknow and Paul’s like the real thing is better ❤️

ofc ! hope you enjoy :)

crushed velvet - paul x reader

His grumpy face was still cute in your eyes. You hug him again.

“When am I going to see you again?” he asks.

“Soon…Really soon.”

“Your next break isn’t until the summer.” he says sadly.

You rub his back as you both look at each other. He kissed you, not caring that people were looking. He had to savor the last bit of feeling of you.

You wave to him as you walked off to go on your journey back to school.

It was hard. It was always hard.

That night as you held the phone to your ear, his deep voice rumbled through the device.

“I miss you…What are you doing?”

He already asked it already but you smile a bit as you tell him again, “I’m in bed.”

He goes quiet for a moment before he speaks again.

“What are you wearing?”

Your heart speeds up as you know where it’s going to go.

“Just a night shirt.” you say quietly.

“Just that?”

“Yes.”

You hear him hum out a response and then he speaks again in that devilish voice that made you do unholy things.

“I miss touching you…”

“I miss touching you too.” you whispered as you heard his breath start to go heavy.

“Can you do something for me?”

“Of course.”

“Close your eyes.”

You do so. He instructed your hand to trail down your stomach and into your underwear.

It was your turn for your breathing to become heavy.

Soon, you were crumbling apart as your fingers were the substitute for his. Your quiet moans as you pleasured yourself, were right in his ear as he groaned while stroking himself.

“Don’t be quiet….” he speaks.

“Louder..For me.”

It drove you almost insane and you wanted him there.

“I need you so much.” you whine out as you climaxed.

Night and day felt so lonely without him.

Paul was surprised with a picture of you in your desk mirror. The golden hour let your body shine that he almost drooled. He closed his eyes as he wanted to so badly touch the skin that was teasing him.

He sends you a video. You watched in the dark before you went to sleep.

By the time he was done stroking himself, he looked like a child who had spilled milk all over himself.

The ache was deep inside of you. No matter how much masterbaiting that one did, it wasn’t enough for you. You just wanted him. He just wanted you.

Especially when he was fresh out of the shower, he hung out as you wanted to know how that veiny flesh felt inside of you as you stared at the picture.

“So are you coming?” Emily asks you over the phone.

A surprise party for Paul was being thrown. You had no classes and you had a free weekend.

“Of course! I miss him so much…Don’t tell him I’m coming.”

“Of course, of course. He’s going to go crazy.” she tells you. Your smile was bright.

You send him one last picture at midnight before you were about to leave. Showcasing the finger that touched the wetness.

“Happy birthday”

You were impatient as you were traveling to go back to La Push. He texted back.

“I miss you. This is going to be the worst birthday ever.”

You look at your phone with a smile. The sun was starting to rise.

You finally made it to La Push.

Emily pulled you into the home with a big hug. She was finished baking the cake.

“Help me put the icing on?” she asks you. You nod.

As you do, you gush to her about how you have been. It mostly contained of how much you missed Paul.

“That’s all we hear from him. How much he misses you.” Emily says with a smile.

The pack started to come in one by one. They grinned as they seen you, giving you hugs of love. They missed you too but not as much as Paul. The balloons filled in the air.

Paul was the last one to come in and Emily made you duck behind the island.

They turned on the lights and everyone yelled surprise.

You decided to stay hidden for added effect.

“I’m going home.” you heard his voice say.

Soft groans filled the home.

“Come on, Paul. At least have some cake.”

“I don’t want no damn cake.” he grumbled.

You cover your mouth with a hand to keep yourself from laughing.

“Paul. Get some cake and stop acting like a baby.” Sam says.

You heard footsteps and you rise slowly up.

“Surprise?”

He dropped his fork.

Scooping you up in his arms and kissing your face.

“You’re here.” he kept saying happily.

He didn’t dare to let you go throughout the party.

“I’m going home”. he says after the time started to get late.

He rises and your arm is still around his back.

Your feet follow him as you heard the pack argue among themselves about who is going to clean up the mess.

You chuckle to yourself and Paul lifts you in his arms as you both make your way to his house.

You laugh again as his lips touch your ear. It tickled.

You slide down his body as you both made it inside of his home. He brushed against you and captures you in a sensual kiss.

Your hands dance in his hair as he moves you both, “Here or the bed?” he asks against your lips.

“Your bed.” you whispered.

He lifts you in his hands, your legs around his waist and you felt your back touch his soft bed. You looked up at him and he almost came right then and there.

You both waste no time to become naked. He lays on his back and grabs your wrist to bring you over him. He scoots you up his body, his breath was soon blowing against your wet center.

You gasp at the sensation of him eating at you. Your hips slowly rolled against his tongue before they started to rock in rhythmic motion that made you roll your eyes so hard.

After trembling for so long, you slide off of him to ride out the high of your orgasm. You whisper his name as he continued to touch your shaken body.

He hovered over you as he pressed an open mouth kiss to your ear. You felt him line himself up with you as your head turned to the side, seeing his clenched fist in the sheets. You hold onto his strong wrist as he slowly pushes himself inside of you.

You both moan out loud. He rolls and rocks his hips as you turn your head side to side. It was overwhelming but in a good way. He snakes his hand forward and around your stomach, trailing downward, making small circles that made you moan out incoherent words.

He grunted in your ear. He grunted how good you felt. He grunted how the real thing was better. With that, you’re flipped over, your knees are pushed beside your head as you look at his animalistic expression.

His tongue made you quiver as he ate at you again. This time, his grip on your legs made them impossible for you to move. The only thing that could move was your hips that pressed against his face. You felt like you were going to die. But in a good way.

He finally sinks back in, his hips snaps to reach all of you, making sure you felt all of him. He squeezed his eyes shut. It felt like he was in heaven as he felt tingles throughout his body like electricity. The crushed velvet pulsated around him and he moved faster to get the last bit of feeling before he, himself came as well.

You both lay side by side. You both catch your breaths.

“This was the best birthday ever.�� he says quietly.

You chuckle quietly.

“This…This is what I’ve been missing.” you whisper.

“Me too. The real thing is always better.”

You give him a smile as you give each other passionate smooch and you lay on his chest as he holds you.

[grapejuicebrat]

champagne coast - r.c.

where rafe has to watch you moving on.

warnings: mentions of smut, kissing, swearing, heavy angst, might be a happy ending, rafe tries to be better.

notes: SHES BAAAACK. and a little reminder: english is not my first language so be nice! x

my masterlist

———

“i want you to be happy rafe, that’s all i ever wanted”

but what if he can’t be happy without you? what if just your presence made rafe smile? if you want him to be happy, why did you leave? those questions were never asked but god, rafe still do want to know all the answers.

watching you moving on is hard. the first time rafe saw you after the break up, your eyes were red from crying. you never smiled. never wanted to pretend that you’re ok. you still loved rafe after all. even if he was a drug addict, even if he was a mean grumpy man. you really wanted to see rafe as an old rafe who tried to not hate on pogues. who tried to catch up with his sister and be a good older brother.

he really tried to be better. for you. for your future family.

he even wanted to marry you. of course, part of him understands that all those thoughts were in his head because he wanted you to stay with him. maybe he could get you pregnant with his baby. having a little copy of you with those big doe eyes was everything he ever wanted. but looking back, it wasn’t possible. not anymore.

sitting in a country club and watching you working hard was difficult. in the beginning of your relationship rafe made that clear. he never ever wanted you to work there again. not because he wanted you to be in a golden cage, just because men in this club were disgusting. rafe would never forget how you cried in his shirt about another nasty comment about her body. that’s why you decided to quit your job and instead of being a waitress you waited at home for rafe, making a dinner for you two and being like a housewife.

you changed rafe in a lot of ways. so now he doesn’t even want to punch this motherfucker jj in the face, because he is clearly flirting with you. after all, he promised you to fight with his anger.

the last thing rafe wants to do is disappoint you again.

“bro, there many other bitches, just forget about her” kelce said to rafe, laughing.

rafe’s eyes shifted to kelce, anger bubbling up in his blood. nobody gets to talk about you like that. even if you were the one to break up with him, you did it for best.

“if you try to say stupid shit like that again, i won’t even hesitate to punch you in a fucking face. you don’t know anything, motherfucker”.

it was the first time rafe didn’t let his friends say something disrespectful towards a girl.

you would be proud of him, that’s for sure.

after two shitty weeks of your break up, rafe saw you smiling for the first time. and he could swear, his heart melted. of course he wanted you to be happy to, even if it does mean that he won’t be included in your life anymore. as much as it hurts to say, maybe in some time you will start a family with a guy that really deserves you. and rafe always said to you that he didn’t deserve you. well, that’s true. he never deserved your kindness, your patience and mostly, your love.

after a long month, rafe could proudly say that he didn’t do coke for a month and two weeks. he didn’t drink either, except one bottle of a beer at the party. he wanted to start a new life, to try to be someone who would deserve you even if you doesn’t want him anymore.

and of course, you knew about this changes. you promised yourself to keep an eye on him if anything happens. and you were really happy to see him like this. without his stupid friends, that you never liked. without being high and drunk. at some time you would think that it’s your old rafe. who you used to know. and your heart would skip a heartbeat. after all, you still loved him. you will always love him.

sometimes you wanted to kiss him like you used to. to hug him, whisper an “i love you” and kiss like there was no tomorrow. you wanted to feel his hands on your neck, on your waist, everywhere. you missed this feeling of being loved by him, you missed his big eyes and his perfect smile. you missed those rare times you two made love to each other. of course you were obsessed with his dominant side in sex but oh god, when he would lay on you and hug you, and his dick was buried deep in your pussy and only god knows how many times he said that he loved you.

you would look at him in a country club, scared that some chick would hug him and sit in his lap. but not in a month, or two. not after a year after your break up, he still didn’t bring anybody. and if topper told you the truth, he refused to even look at some girl. except you.

there were still some rare moments when you would just sit in your kitchen and there will be only one question.

“what if we were still together”

you tried to imagine your life with rafe, how would everything be okay. and you cried. every time.

after another long night in an empty bad you’ve had enough. even if it is the biggest mistake you’ve ever made, you didn’t want this to be the end. not like that. when everything could possibly be better. when rafe at least tries to be better. because you still love him and some part of you hopes he still does love you. so you made your choice right away, getting your phone from the table.

notes: end sucks, i know. but i am still proud of this one. waiting for your comments!

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Lizzie's birthday party does not exactly go according to plan.

Word Count: 5,443

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, body image issues, violence, sexual assault, sexual content, and references to past rape.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 12: The Ballad of Sorrowful Souls

Lucy rested her hands flat on the wood of the little vanity, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Almost without her even noticing it, her hair had gotten longer. It was something that, looking back on things, she realized had happened gradually over the years. Letting it go a little longer between trims. Taking off less and less each time. Where the red locks had once only come down to her chin, they now rested a few inches below her collarbones. Brushing her shoulder blades in the back. 

Running her fingers through the fluffy curls, she pursed her lips. When did you get so bloody long? she asked the hair, to no answer.

Sighing, she picked up a few ornate pins, carefully gathering her hair up and sliding them into place, until her hair was entirely pinned up in an elaborate chignon at the base of her neck. Satisfied with her work, she adjusted the straps on her dress and checked her watch. Polly would be there to pick her up on her way to Arrow House for the party soon. Reflected in the mirror behind her, pale and lovely as always, Grace watched her.

“You look beautiful.”

She smiled at the ghost. “Thank you.”

“How are you doing?”

She looked over her shoulder. “I’m fine.”

“Sleeping alright?”

“Yep.”

“Those bags under your eyes say otherwise.”

“Fuck. Are they really that obvious?” she turned, squinting at herself in the mirror, fumbling with her small collection of makeup. Grace came up behind her, peering over her shoulder. 

“Try this one,” she pointed to a little bottle. “Rub it in gently under your eyes.”

Lucy followed her instructions, letting Grace tilt her chin up to examine the results. The blonde nodded. “Good.”

Hiking her dress up, she began to slide an array of knives into the garter sheath at her thigh. Holding the last knife in her hand, she twirled it mindlessly between her fingers, examining the sharp edge. Without even thinking, she gripped the handle tightly and brought the blade to rest against the pale, freckled skin of her inner left wrist. She bit her lip. One little slice was all it would take. 

“You really want to join me that badly?” Grace’s voice startled her out of her trance. The blade pulled away from the skin to slide into the sheath with its sisters. “Not that I’d complain. But I think Tommy would be very upset with both of us.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, checking to make sure her gun was loaded and putting it in her bag.

“Lucy,” Grace’s voice was stern. “What is it?”

She ran her hand over her hair, then cursed quietly and did her best to rearrange it back into place. She should be happy. Her plan had succeeded, after all. Things between Lizzie and Tommy had seemed to have mostly smoothed over. Tommy…seemed happier. That was what she had wanted, wasn’t it? And yet it hurt, to now know that all that was needed was her absence to have made that possible. 

Maybe she really had become nothing more than a burden. Someone Tommy kept around out of pity and duty. Perhaps he’d gotten bored with her. He had practically begged her not to go when she had left Arrow House, but maybe over the time that she had been gone, he’d come to the realization that she was right. Things were better this way. Perhaps he was secretly relieved that she had left.

“You’re being silly,” Grace said. “Tommy loves you.”

Did he? Or was it all just a ploy to keep her close because she was useful? Or maybe he never really had. Maybe she’d been nothing but convenient, up until now. A warm place to shove his cock when he was bored. 

“I’m not so sure anymore, Grace.”

“Oh, love,” Grace drifted across the room to her, hands cradling hers. “Remember when you left? He was distraught. He begged you not to go,” she offered Lucy a small smile in an attempt at reassurance. “Who would’ve thought, hm? Thomas Shelby, begging,” she shook her head, blonde waves flying, hand cradling Lucy’s cheek. “Okay?”

Lucy let out a shaky breath and nodded. Grace’s cheek dimpled with her smile. “No crying, now, love. You’ll ruin your makeup.”

Lucy let out a hiccupping little laugh and nodded. “‘Kay.”

Grace let her go so she could riffle through her jewelry box, putting on her earrings and rings. Her fingers hesitated over the large garnet necklace resting in the middle of the box, the one Tommy had gotten her to match Grace’s sapphire. Her brows furrowed, lips pressed together. Perhaps it would be too much to show up with a token of Tommy’s love hanging from her throat. And to Lizzie’s birthday party, no less. She let the lid of the jewelry box fall closed.

“Tommy will notice you’re not wearing it.”

“Maybe.”

Grace sighed, but apparently decided that it wasn’t worth it to argue with her. The sound of tires outside announced Polly's arrival, and she was quick to wrap her shawl around her shoulders and grab her bag. The jingle of the lead had Asher rising to his feet, tail wagging as she clipped it to his collar.

“C’mon, boy,” she said, pausing a moment at the door and turning to Grace. “You’ll be around, if I need you?”

Grace smiled. “Always am, love.”

Her heels clicked against the stairs, a quick wave offered to Charlie and Curly in the kitchen before she was making her way to Polly’s car.

“You’re bringing the dog?” Polly questioned, eyebrow raised.

“Mosley’s going to be there, I figured we could use all the backup we can get,” she explained, ushering Asher into the backseat before getting into the front beside Polly. “And Tommy said that the kids were asking about him. Figured they’d like having him visit.”

They pulled out onto the street, beginning the familiar route to Arrow House.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

“It’s no problem,” Polly said. “Though I have to say, I was surprised to hear about this sudden change in living arrangements.”

“I’m sure that you were popping champagne when you heard the news.”

“Now why would I do that?”

She gave her a look. “Polly.”

“Just because you’re not my favorite person in the world doesn’t mean that I can’t acknowledge your usefulness to Tommy and the company.”

“I’m touched.” 

Polly glanced over at her. “And you make Tommy at least somewhat bearable to be around.”   

That pulled a tiny laugh out of her, shaking her head. Polly reached out a gloved hand, patting Lucy’s arm. 

“Maybe it’ll be good for you,” she offered, “to not be chained to him all hours of the day.”

Lucy’s knee bounced anxiously as she shook her head. “I’ve never fully understood any of you. The way you talk sometimes. About getting away, about being chained. I’ve never wanted to get away.”

“I think you might be the only one of us who’s never really tried to leave.” 

“I’ve never wanted to.”

Polly hummed, tilting her head to the side. “You’ve really never thought about it? Not even once? To go off, have a normal life?”

She shook her head. “What do I do, if I don’t do this?”

Polly tsked. “You and Tommy. Unable to pull away even for a simple holiday. You really are perfect for one another.” Lucy didn’t respond, just looked down at her hands, tugging her shawl tighter around herself. “How’s he been taking it?”

Lucy shrugged. “He seems fine.”

“Really? I heard from Ada that he showed up at her doorstep at two in the morning in the middle of an emotional meltdown.”

“He feels bad about the whole thing. But…” she shrugged. “He seems happy. From what I’ve seen.”

Polly shot her a funny look that she chose to ignore. 

“You’re angry with him.”

“What? No I’m not.”

Polly gave her a knowing look. Lucy ran a hand over her hair and cursed.

“I gotta stop fucking doing that,” she muttered, smoothing her hair back down.

“Your hair looks fine. Spill.”

“I’m not…angry with Tommy, Polly.”

“Why did you leave, then?”

She shook her head. Took a small pause. “I…I just couldn’t stand to be somewhere where I felt so…” she struggled to find the right word. “Unwanted,” she finally finished.

“How do you mean?”

“They made this…deal that has a direct effect on me and Tommy’s relationship and they…” she chewed on her bottom lip. “They didn’t even give me a fucking heads up about it. And Tommy agreed to it,” she shrugged. “He had to know what it would mean for us and he agreed to it anyway.”

“He didn’t fight for you.” 

Lucy shook her head.

“No, no. That’s not it,” she ran a hand over her hair again and shook her head. “I don’t know, maybe it is. We’ve been so busy lately. Sometimes I feel more like just a coworker than a lover.”

“Maybe you should tell him that.”

“He has enough that he’s dealing with right now. When this current business is done, we can worry about…whatever this all is.”

“You’re very good at that.”

“At what?”

“Pushing your feelings down to deal with the task at hand. It’s part of what makes you so good at what you do.” Polly cast her that motherly look of disapproval that she often saw her giving her nephews. “But even you can’t keep your emotions locked up forever, Lucy. They have to come out and be dealt with at some point.”

“I know.” She glanced back over at Polly. “Sorry. I don’t mean for any of you to be pulled into the middle of this.”

“It’s alright. I’d much rather deal with you and Tommy’s mess than Arthur and Linda’s.”

“Right. Talk about a fucking disaster.” 

Polly hummed in agreement.

They rode in relative silence after that, car bumping along the road. As soon as Arrow House came into view a small shudder went through Lucy.

“Fuck.”

Polly shot a glance at her. “Have you been back since you left?”

“No.”

The older woman made a sympathetic sound, patting her on the arm again. “Well, look alive. We’ve got a fascist to impress.”

“Ugh,” she made a gagging sound that made Polly snicker. “He makes my skin crawl.”

Polly parked the car and opened her door. “Come along.”

She leapt from her seat, opening the door to the back. “Come, Ash. Good boy,” she coaxed the dog from where he had been laying with his huge head on his paws. He jumped down to trot dutifully by her side, his lead clutched tight in her hand. Polly came around the other side of the car, giving Asher a few scratches behind the ear before linking her arm with Lucy’s. 

“Ready to face the music?”

She eyed a few ballerinas making their way towards the tent set up on the grass. “I can’t tell if you're being literal or not.”

Polly chuckled, tugging her along towards the entrance of the place that had once been her home. 

∗ ∗ ∗

The party was in full swing and Tommy and Lizzie were nowhere to be found. Guests were arriving, chattering, sipping on drinks, and nibbling on food. Lucy remained close to Polly, not in much mood to socialize and grateful for the Shelby matriarch’s willingness to take point on greeting and conversing with the guests. 

For a brief moment she caught sight of Michael and Gina, raising her glass towards them in greeting, earning a small nod of acknowledgment from Michael. Gina sneered. Fucking kid.

She tugged on Polly’s skirt to get her attention. “By the way,” she cleared her throat, keeping her voice to a low murmur. “Mosley fucked Lizzie.”

“What!?”

“Mhm. Told Tommy allllllll about it at a meeting they had to discuss Mosley’s invitation here. Apparently it was while she was a nightclub hostess. Years ago. Thought you should know. It might come up.”

“Jesus, alright,” Polly said. “You find out anything else useful about him in your research?”

“Just that he’s fucking most of his wife’s family.”

“Charming.”

“Yep,” she popped the p in the word for emphasis. Taking a sip from her glass, her eyes trained on the door where the guests were filtering in. She elbowed Polly. “That’s him. With the mustache.”

“He looks displeased.” “I don’t understand how he gets so many girls. He’s so…” she searched desperately for the right word, “slimy. And his mustache looks stupid.”

Polly laughed, choking on her drink as a result. The MP was looking around, scowling.  

“You should go greet him before he has an aneurysm,” Lucy suggested. Polly disappeared with a smirk, heading for Mosley. Sipping again from her glass, Lucy rose up onto her toes, eyes scanning the crowd for Tommy. She had left Asher with Frances, and she was suddenly greatly missing the comfort and security that having the dog by her side brought now that Mosley was here.

Moving briskly, she began to weave her way through the guests. She hadn’t cared to go interrupt Tommy and Lizzie where they were likely fucking in one of the many dark corners of the house, but now that Mosley had arrived and was already sulking at Tommy’s absence, she needed to find him soon or risk the MP’s wrath. The last thing she wanted was to be alone in a room with Mosley. 

“Miss. Winters!”

She froze, grinding her teeth. “Oh, fuck me,” she muttered under her breath, plastering a smile on her face and turning around. “Mr. Mosley. So glad to see you.”

His eyes raked over her and she had to fight the desire to tug her red shawl tighter around herself. “You look lovely, as ever.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, could you please tell me, where is Thomas?”

“I believe he was dealing with the caterers. Something about some last minute problems, you know how these things can go.”

“I was hoping to be announced upon my arrival.”

“Apologies. If you’d like, I can take you to the study. Mr. Shelby had something he wanted to discuss with you privately. Before the performance, if possible.”

Mosley’s expression of displeasure remained. “Very well.”

“This way,” she inclined with her head, leading the way to Tommy’s office. She opened the door with her key and stepped aside to let Mosley in. “Is there anything I can get you?”

His eyes raked over her again. A hand suddenly shot out, tightly grasping a red curl that had fallen from her pins to rest against her cheek, stroking the lock and then tugging on it sharply. “Oh, I can think of many things, Miss. Winters.”

She had to resist the urge to lean over and vomit all over his expensive shoes.

“I’m afraid that I’m working tonight, Mr. Mosley.”

“Hm.” His hand slipped down, moving so quickly that she had no chance of stopping it. His cold fingers slid down her throat, around her shoulder, and promptly grasped her right breast, squeezing so hard that it hurt.

Lucy completely froze, heart leaping into her throat, too shocked at the sudden movement to do anything. 

Mosley grinned, eyes alight with sadistic glee. Just as quickly as he’d grabbed her, he let her go, smile remaining firmly in place. “Well, if you’re sure. Just Thomas, then, my dear. Quick as possible.”

She nodded, spun on her heel, and left the room, closing the door behind her. For a moment, she allowed her back to rest against the wood of the door, a sudden spasm of panic flooding her from head to toe. She took in deep, heaving breaths, thinking for a moment that she might actually vomit. Learning forward, she rested her hands on her thighs, forcing herself to breathe deeply, thankful that this hallway was hidden from the view of the guests in the dining and sitting rooms. Memories flashed behind her eyes, of hands on her in a dark alleyway, voices laughing and jeering as they pushed her down, a blade slicing through her skin, hands pulling at her hair. 

Lucy shook her head sharply to dislodge them. Instead, she tried to force her brain to focus on the feel of the wood against her back. The color of the rug beneath her feet. The sound of clinking glasses and muffled voices a few rooms over.

Her heartbeat was still more rapid than usual, hands trembling a little bit. Fuck. She hadn’t had an attack like that in a long time.  

On still somewhat unsteady legs, she began to make her way down the hall, going through her mental checklist of all the places Tommy and Lizzie could be. 

As if hearing her thoughts, she made out voices coming from a storage closet in the hall. Freezing, she hesitated, recognizing the familiar deep rumble of Tommy’s voice. Her fist raised to knock, but stopped. And even though she knew it was wrong, the fist uncurled, planting itself on the doorframe as she leaned closer to press her ear to the place where the door met the frame, listening. 

“--so that’s why you brought me in here. To lay your claim,” Lizzie was saying. 

“Yeah.” She could imagine the fond way Tommy probably smiled at her, eyebrow raising in a way that was both sheepish and cocky. 

“Well, it’s a start, I suppose.”

There was the rustle of movement. “He lays a fucking hand on you, he will be meat for Johnny Dogs.”

He need not specify who he was talking about. She already knew.

With a shudder, Lucy pulled back, unable to bear listening to anymore.

It was not that he was dedicated to protecting Lizzie that so wounded her. It was that, while he was fucking her and pledging his protection over her, Lucy was out here. The very man that Tommy had just promised to defend Lizzie from having just touched and spoken to her in a way that had triggered her to have a panic attack. 

She wasn’t even worth Tommy laying a fucking claim on, anymore.  

What would Tommy do, if he found out how Mosley had just touched her?

She already knew. The same thing he’d done when McCavern had leered at her: fucking nothing. 

He probably wouldn’t even care. It was clear he didn’t want her anymore, anyway. 

She took another step back from the door, intending to leave them be rather than ruin their happiness with her presence, when the door opened, and the pair stepped out hand in hand. Lizzie was smiling brightly while Tommy’s own lips were twitched upwards. When they saw her, they both froze, looking at her like two deer caught in headlights.

“Lucy,” Tommy said, smile falling and brow furrowing as he looked at her. For a moment, his eyes dropped to the middle of her chest, right below her collarbone, brows pinching together. She cleared her throat.

“You need to go to your office. Mosley’s there.”

“Are you alright?” Lizzie asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Hi, Lizzie. Happy birthday.” She hoped that her smile was convincing and not as shaky as it felt. From the way concern flickered in Lizzie’s eyes, she didn’t think that she succeeded. Tommy reached out a hand to her, and she flinched violently away from him. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” she gasped, breathing momentarily kicking back up a few notches. The idea of anyone’s hands on her right now made her feel faint with panic. A flicker of hurt and confusion passed across his face. 

“What happened?” his voice dropped an octave, ice blue eyes narrowing a fraction. 

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, gripping her shawl tighter around her like a lifeline. “Nothing.” She opened her eyes. Tommy was still staring at her, searching her face for clues as to what she wasn’t telling him. “Just. Please. Go now. He’s throwing a fucking hissy fit over you not being there to greet him when he arrived.”

Tommy’s expression turned guilty. He hesitated only a moment more, looking her up and down as if checking for injuries, and then turned to Lizzie. “This’ll take just a minute,” he told her, and headed down the hallway. Lucy sighed out a breath as he opened and closed the door to his office. There. Disaster averted. Hopefully.  

“Lucy, are you alright?” Lizzie repeated.

“I’m fine. Go enjoy your party,” she nodded in the direction of the dining room. Lizzie frowned. “Please.”

The taller woman looked unconvinced, but headed down the hall. Finally alone, Lucy slumped against the wall. Her breathing was mostly back to normal, though the attack itself had unnerved her. She had dealt with Mosley on her own before, and yet she’d never had such a blatant, panicked reaction to his advances. Granted, he had never outright grabbed her like that before, but still…

 It had to be the combination of tiredness and stress, she decided. And the fact that Mosley at times reminded her unnervingly of Matthew. Or maybe it was the emotional turmoil of being back inside this house. 

She drew in a deep breath, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, drawing the smoke greedily into her lungs. It helped to stabilize her. If only a little. 

Finally feeling a bit more like herself, she began to head back towards the dining room. 

Lizzie was easy to spot, tall and gorgeous where she was standing next to Polly. Lucy paused in the doorway, leaning her shoulder against the wall, hands fiddling with her rings while she watched her. She was near fucking ethereal in her ornately detailed gown, her dark hair styled in stiff waves around her chin, features impeccable. 

No wonder Tommy had chosen her over Lucy. Where Lizzie was tall and slim and striking, Lucy was short, curvy, and plain, with skin almost as freckled as it was scarred. And of course there was her flaming red hair–she’d always had a sneaking suspicion that Tommy preferred brunettes–her eyes that were too big to be in proportion with the rest of her face, and her scars. Any man would find her repulsive in comparison to Lizzie.  

“Yes, that’s why he’s always been so enthusiastic to get you naked: because he finds you repulsive,” Grace’s voice spoke up, dripping with sarcasm. Lucy turned her head towards where the voice came from. Grace was leaning against the opposite wall, looking at her with a deeply unimpressed expression on her face. 

Lucy ripped her gaze away from the ghost, ducking her head down and pushing past a few guests to make her way over to Polly and Lizzie. Polly was shaking her head.

“Lizzie, if we were to strike from our guest lists every man in Birmingham who you-”

“Fuck,” Lizzie muttered, eyes focused on where Tommy and Mosley had just appeared in the doorway. The sight of Mosley made Lucy shrink back behind the other two women. Polly raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to Lizzie. 

“Yes or no?”

“Fucking yes,” Lizzie grumbled, turning to set her drink down. Both she and Polly muttered “shit” quietly under their breath as the men approached them. 

The introductions were awkward, to say the least. Especially since Mosley insisted on smugly bringing his past with Lizzie up. But Lizzie, to Lucy’s surprise, actually managed to swipe back at him. Reaching into her handbag, she pulled out a coin. 

“For the champagne and brandy you bought me, as I recall it was the booze that put you to sleep a little prematurely,” she tossed the coin into Mosley’s glass. Lucy’s chest spasmed, forcing herself to cough to cover up what would have likely been an inappropriately loud cackle. Polly patted her on the back, no doubt trying to sell the image that she was just choking on her drink rather than being near incapacitated with hysterical laughter. 

“Ladies and gentleman,” a man from the ballet company called. “The dance is about to begin.”  

Mosley looked a little shell-shocked, staring down at the coin now resting in his drink before turning and silently walking away. Like a dog with its tail between its legs. 

“Mr. Mosley!” Tommy called out, “a toast, if I may. To the end of our deal, and the beginning of something more,” he raised his glass and turned. “Happy birthday, Lizzie,” he shot her an approving wink and clinked her glass with his. Facing Mosley again, he held a hand out as he guided the man away from them. “This way.” 

Lucy rested her hands on Lizzie's shoulders from behind, stretching up on her toes to whisper into the woman’s ear. “I love you,” she told her. Lizzie shot a somewhat bashful yet proud grin over her shoulder at her. She let Polly and Lizzie drift ahead of her in the crowd, walking on her own outside to where the tent had been set up with the stage for the performance.    

By the time she got to the tent, a good share of the guests had already been seated. Tommy and Lizzie were sitting in the front row. But he had an arm subtly draped around the empty chair next to him on his right, keeping anyone from taking it. She was painfully aware of him trying to catch her eye but ignored him, aware that she was being childish but not able to muster up enough energy to care.

Instead she walked right past him, Lizzie, and the seat that he’d been apparently saving for her. Making her way around the rows of chairs, she found a spot that was about as far as she could sit from them as possible, tucked way in the back. Sitting down, she pulled her shawl as tight around herself as she could, suddenly wishing that she’d worn a warmer dress than the simple black gown she’d chosen. 

When she finally chanced a glance over at Tommy and Lizzie, it was to find Tommy staring at her as if she’d just turned around and shot his dog. His blue eyes were wide with hurt, jaw tensing as though he were trying to restrain anymore emotion from leaking onto his features. Lizzie looked stunned, her brows creased together and lips pouting slightly. 

Lucy only met their gaze for half a second before she had to look away. 

The rest of the guests quickly filled in the rest of the seats around her. The people who sat near her were complete strangers, but she’d take that over having to sit by Mosley or Gina.

Ballet had never really been of much interest to Lucy, but even she had to admit that the performance was quite lovely. But it simply could not hold her attention, try as she might to focus on it. Her gaze kept sweeping over the audience.  

She saw Lizzie take Tommy’s hand, gazing at him with happy, hopeful eyes. He didn’t remove his gaze from the ballerinas to look at her, but he didn’t pull his hand away either.

Husband and wife. Happy together at last. Lucy looked down at her hands, clasping them together tightly. Until her knuckles turned white. Tears had to be blinked hastily from her eyes at the realization that no one would probably ever hold her hand again. And especially not like that. 

Towards the end of the show, she spotted Polly stealing away with Aberama, ducking under a string of lights and vanishing into the dark.

Gaze scanning over the crowd, she rolled her eyes at the sight of Arthur slumped over, asleep. Tommy and Lizzie were still holding hands. Michael looked bored. Beside him, Gina’s eyes darted away from the stage, glancing over at Mosley, who had been rather blatantly staring at her. He looked away quickly at their eyes meeting, but Gina’s gaze lingered on him a bit too long to be just simple curiosity. Interesting.

Lucy made mental note of the odd interaction. That would be a thread to pull on later. To see if there was anything of value or intrigue attached to it. 

Something tugged at her mind to do another sweep of the crowd, and when she did, it was to find Tommy staring at her.

The expression on his face was imploring. Desperate and worried. She thought that she might’ve seen longing there, too, but told herself that it was just wishful thinking. 

She wanted to tell him that it was alright. He didn’t need to feel guilty. He didn’t owe her anything. And he should not feel obligated to continue to be with her out of some misguided sense of duty. She understood. Things change. People change. Feelings change. It wasn’t his fault. 

She had always had a sneaking suspicion that this would happen eventually. It was her own bloody fault for not more properly preparing herself for it. 

Tommy seemed to be trying to tell her something with his eyes. Like they used to be able to do all the time. Their little mind reading trick. But she couldn’t read him anymore. When she looked into his blue orbs, she could not make out any words. 

Somehow, without either of them realizing it, the bond between them had broken. Lucy wondered if it could even be repaired at this point.

Not that there was much point in ruminating over that. He was happy with his wife. Why would he want to waste time and energy trying to fix anything between them when he had Lizzie? 

A flash of car lights in the distance, on the front drive, caught her attention. Odd. She couldn’t think of anyone who had been on the guest list that hadn’t arrived. In the corner of her eye, Tommy shifted, having spotted the car lights as well. He leaned forward, looking down the front row at Arthur. When he caught sight of his brother asleep, his shoulders heaved in a sigh, features turning exasperated. 

His eyes returned to Lucy’s. She could see the silent scream echoing behind them. She gave him a sympathetic look. Had she been sitting closer to Arthur, she would have been able to kick him awake. 

She kept an eye on the approaching car while Tommy leaned back in his seat to catch Michael’s eye. He was the closest of any of them to Arthur’s seat. Tommy gave a small jerk of his head in a silent order, spurring Michael to reach in front of him to nudge Arthur until he woke. Lucy watched as the two Shelby brothers shared a glance of silent communication before Arthur stood, discreetly shuffling away towards the front drive to deal with the approaching car. She kept one eye trained on Arthur’s disappearing figure, another on the ballerina spinning on the stage.

The car had stopped but the lights were still on. A person exited and moved to stand in front of it. Lucy leaned forward, eyes narrowed, trying to make out who it was. A flash of pale blonde hair caught the light. Shit. It looked like Linda.

She stood abruptly, walking behind the rows of guests, moving briskly after Arthur. If anyone had reason to crash the party and ruin everyone's evening, it was Linda. The woman was likely justifiably furious over what Arthur had done to her friend, but the last thing they needed was an altercation between Linda and Arthur with all of these people around. 

She shot a quick glance over her shoulder at the tent. It didn’t seem like any of the guests had taken notice yet, too enthralled by the performance in front of them. Except for Tommy, who had stood from his seat and was following after her. Lizzie was watching them, expression curious. Lucy looked away, quickening her pace towards Arthur and Linda. 

Linda moved suddenly and…was that a gun!? Lucy broke into a run that was more of a jog. Fucking heels. She should have just worn her oxfords, even if they didn’t match her dress. She almost made it to Arthur, who despite having a gun aimed at him hadn’t moved, when a gunshot rang out, loud enough to hurt her ears. There were footsteps behind her, Tommy and Lizzie skidding to a halt beside her. For a moment, everyone was still.

Then Linda crumpled over onto her side with a soft thud.

“Arthur,” Tommy gasped. His older brother spun around, shocked eyes scanning over each of them. His hands were empty. It wasn’t him who’d shot Linda. Lucy looked at Tommy. No gun on him, nor on Lizzie. 

And behind them, her weapon still raised, face pressed into a stern, protective expression, not unlike a lioness protecting her cubs, stood Polly.

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[wallcreeper-and-oro]

connection.find(omni_net) connection established omni.id.vericode(Y/N) (Y) {vericode entered} connection verified - lancer 910372

⋆𖦹 (haha i did it!) uh but i agree!!

okay okay i think i know the origin of almost everyone's callsign!

i'll start! mine is Ouroboros, like the curly snake that bites it's own tail, Liza says it's originally some pre-fall thing but but i got it because i have a habit of looping songs... like a lot (Thebe says "ya a lot", thanks... ) and enough jokes about me doing things over and over and... ya but i think Oro (which is what i mostly get called if someone's not using my name) is pretty cute! so im happy!! much better than just "greenie"

uuum next up is Kanmi's! he's Rosy, firstly because his favourite drink is a rose (the e has a fancy tick but i dont know how to do that), and it's what he'd ask Dido for when she was ordering supplies, so it kinda stuck! but the other reason is kinda funny, because he gets flushed really really easy, like whenever someone compliments him (especially Dido...) he gets beet red and it's funny to watch, so Rosy!

okay Thebe's walked off! her callsign is Neutron, like a neutron star, because... i love her but she's a bit dense sometimes - it's fine we went through the academy together i can say that -, not that i want her to see it, also Liza says it's cause she can be self-centered but i think that's just mean..

speaking of! Liza's callsign is Sour Patch! or just Patch if someone is yelling for her (which happens often enough), and okay apparently it's a reference to some pre-fall cradle thing i don't get, but i think it's just cause she looks sour all the time (she's quite sweet though under that, not that she'd be caught dead admitting that)

and uh Dido i have no idea, she's just Dido, Liza says it's an old cradle queen? cool?

This is Ouroboros signing off!

Does anyone else find callsign naming conventions hilarious?

You get stuck with a boring one at first, then something interesting happens--some unique quirk of yours gets picked up on--and just like that, enter stage right: your new name.

Well, I do love to make an entrance.

|| FOXGLOVE ||

[the-maddened-hatter]

Starlight and Peppermint

He's trying to show her how to pose

[dykedvonte]

Curly had two days to act and Swansea had two months.

I think it’s just interesting that every defense of Swansea not immediately acting are the same ones that are argued against for Curly. “He didn’t want to alert Daisuke or makes things worse for Anya either Jimmy!” I mean people also assume that about Curly and the crew. “He has to think about his plan of action and a right moment!” Again so did Curly, power and authority aside, he still would have to think of what he had to do. “He makes sure he doesn’t have to be around Jimmy!” So did Curly and they only do this to an extent, both give Jimmy more than a few opening to keep harassing Anya.

This isn’t defense of Curly nor a damnation of Swansea. Their actions are very parallel to each others in tragic and sour ways when it comes to how they approached helping Anya. In the grand scheme of it all they both did the same thing: Nothing. No action either took stopped the inevitable outcome of her death nor Jimmy’s continued damage to themself.

The only real difference is Swansea didn’t like Jimmy which is pretty substantial, but also just as damning as Curly knowing how bad Jimmy could get to an extent. He had even less of a reason to wait, even more of a reason to act seeing as he was now worried for Anya AND Daisuke. He is not bound by the possible procedure as Captain and actively does not care about what happens next. So what does it matter if he acted in the moment? Why did he wait? I think he’s just as morally complex and grey as Curly and we hold him on a pedestal that still perpetuates things in rape culture the game critiques.

It’s not just enough to dislike and be abrasive to predators/abusers like Jimmy. It’s not enough to just put yourself between them and the other person. It’s not enough to hold tensions when you know someone is vulnerable. He and Curly do the exact same things but on different sides of the coin. I ask how is it better to not turn a blind eye but still not really do anything about what you are seeing? Not until it affects you atleast…

The game makes a big point to not put men doing the bare minimum or who wait to do more on pedestals and I’m actually surprised so many are missing that point.

[sysig]

Wuh oh (Patreon)

Bonus:

The novel experience of being crushed by a giant rock, a visual metaphor

[moth-ink]

I feel like they'd have such varying reactions but it'd all boil down to just not understanding how to handle emotions properly, not only because they literally aren't HUMAN but also because they've all bottled up things for so long, I mean there's only so much you can bitch and moan about what you are when you know it isn't going to change (AHEM, Edward, AHEM)

I think Bella might be a little mad at Edward for leaving her, but as I said before she'd have an easier time forgiving Edward because he was at least trying to have her interest in mind even if he was wrong.

And I mean he literally tried to delete himself when he heard Bella died, so I think she'd just be happy he's still even on earth to come back to her.

Huge yap fest about the rest of the Cullens under the line

Alice as her supposed 'best friend' probably was only forgiven in that time during New Moon because she was slapped in the face with her coming back and then kicked in the ass at the fear of Edward oofing that she didn't really have time to be upset at Alice, but after everything calms down, she might start to be a little bitter.

I think Alice would go back to normal, I wouldn't be surprised if her visions affected her emotional intelligence (she started loving Jasper before she even met him, so clearly visions affect her present feelings) since she's seen everything be okay again, she's seen herself already forgiven.

It might take her a lil bit to realize that everything isn't entirely okay, maybe even triggering a vision of Bella getting upset at her, prompting her to act but not exactly in the right way.

Lots of gifts, I think she'd kind of think that money will solve this problem because shopping and buying outfits makes her feel better, she thinks she's showing Bella that she does care, look at all the pretty things she got for her! Don't you feel better?

Although I don't think you'll get this soft, heartfelt apology from Alice, a serious conversation might get her to pump the brakes and try to think more in the present instead of just thinking about presents, although that'd be unlikely since Bella isn't exactly that confrontational so Alice most likely would have to receive guidance from someone else.

Jasper wasn't particularly close to Bella, but he'd harbour some guilt as he is the reason they even left in the first place.

He wouldn't try to act like everything was normal as he can literally sense that everything is definitely not normal, but he's a bit too awkward to outwardly do anything about it.

Although he does care about Bella to some degree, he'd mostly just be worried about Alice, he could sense how she'd get progressively more and more distraught the longer her love bombing doesn't fix anything.

He wouldn't like to use his gift to lighten the situation, but he might use it to coax Bella into talking about it, since she has a tendency to shut down instead of discussing her feelings (theres a possibilityyyy)

Mostly he's just worried about Alice and the other family members who are more affected by her distance.

Surprisingly I think Emmett would be one of the first to actually get to the root of the problem, he's a bit of a meathead I know I know, and at first I think he'd also try to pretend like everythings okay, going back to that sort of big brother type but maybe upping it a bit more to try and win her back.

Lots of bear hugs, noogies and general big bro shenanigans.

HOWEVERRRR as I stated before, he had a little sister growing up, and since he's not as ancient as everyone else he still has some connection to his emotions as a human, especially ones that come from a lil sis.

He was the breadwinner of his family, when he was turned he was worried sick about them, hence the huge donation Carlisle made to them, but I still do think he worries that they think he abandoned him.

Although he's not really good with words, and might come off as kind of an awkward dad, he'd empathize with Bella and her feelings quicker than the others would, protecting her from anyone who dares to say anything negative.

Rosalie would not care, she might even think that Bella is being a bit overdramatic about her feelings, I think it stems from the fact it takes Rose awhile to build a strong relationship with someone, so she treats it as less of a deal since Bella hasn't known them for that long.

If anything she might be a little happy that Bella is distancing herself, that maybe being more seperate from the family would deter her from wanting to be a vampire.

HOWEVER, this could potentially bond them a bit better, one thing that I think will connect them is abandonment issues.

Think about it, Bella's parents divorced and her father didn't even fight for any custody of her, and then her mother got remarried and gave Bella the ultimatum to leave and let them travel or stay and tie them down.

Of course you could say 'Bella chose that!! Renee didn't want her to leave!!' but Renee knows how much Bella cares about her, she's always put Renee's needs before her own (*cough* parentification *cough*)

You can't argue that Renee didn't know that Bella would choose to leave, even if it made her miserable, she was the parent and easily could've said no, put Bella before her new husband and waited until she grew up enough to be on her own.

Bella's always been the one chasing, never the one being chased.

The Cullens leaving would only reinforce that, part of her clinginess to Edward would probably stem from the fact she's been taught that she needs to hold on with two hands or they'll leave her.

How would Rosalie relate to this? well look at her backstory, not only did her fiancee abandon her (among other terrible things that happened that night) and left her to die on the streets, imagine someone you love throwing you away so easily.

And her family wasn't that much better, Rosalie only stayed with Carlisle because she didn't want to be alone, even if she resented Carlisle for what he'd made her into.

She could've easily rejected him, go back to her family, but she didn't, maybe it was because she didn't want them to see what she'd become but it could also easily be because she'd already been abandoned.

Maybe they never tried to figure out what happened to her, her fiancé was a powerful man from a powerful family, and Royce never faced any consequences, it could be because he'd paid off her family to not kick up a fuss about her disapearance.

This could be a moment of relating to each other, the feeling of being left or forgotten in some way could bring them a little closer, although I doubt Rosalie would go all soft she might be more receptive to listening to Bella, granted that Bella listens as well.

It isn't much, but they might be able to have a stable conversation for once.

Esme, oh Esme, she'd be so guilty, even if Bella wasn't mad, she'd probably still be distraught, but she'd feel 100x worse since Bella IS upset.

Although she wouldn't dream of disagreeing with her feelings, I think she'd overcompensate so hard she'd miss the point of why Bella is upset in the first place.

Home cooked meals, presents, constant invites over to family activities, anything to include her back in the family.

If there was a discussion about it, Esme would break and probably beg her for forgiveness, if vampires could cry she'd be red faced and bawling, there might be a smidge of guilt tripping and accidentally making it about herself, oh Bella, she never wanted to leave you! she'd wanted to call so many times, it'd just break her heart if you kept her at arms length.

While Carlisle wasn't super close to Bella, his empathetic nature would leave him feeling terribly guilty, especially when he see's how distraught his wife is.

While he does have some grip on his emotions, he'd also lean a bit more into the buying gifts side of things, however I think he'd target the things that Bella likes and use that to sort of weasel his way back in.

Oh, Bella likes reading? why doesn't she come over to his very extensive library with only the plushest reading chairs then, and he just so happens to be taking a break from his paperwork when she's in there.

Although he would probably apologize in that adorable soft voice of his, he would try to ease back into acting normal however he'd probably be a lot more gentle and attentive.

The last thing he wants is for her to leave, however it stems more from caring about Edward than about her specifically, he doesn't want to lose the one thing that brings his son joy.

He would care a lot about her feelings, but I also think he'd register that she's not really one to talk about them, a bit of his doctor training would come out and he might gently coax her into talking more about it.

He might unintentionally treat her like a bit of a younger kid, but more in a way of being attentive than condescending, always there to help, to listen, to fix up any boo boo's no matter how minor they are.

I also think he'd fund things that brought her joy, like she wants to re-pick up her ballet skills, well it just so happens he's invested in a new dance studio being built for Forks.

He'll deny having anything to do with it, but when it eventually gets revealed to be named Bell Studio there might be a little suspicion.

But that's between him and the new car (that Rosalie is fixing up) for Bella in his garage :)

Bella distancing herself from the Cullens after New Moon because they up and left her (She had an easier time forgiving Edward because he actually had a REASON) and they desperately try to win her back (esp Alice, Esme and Carlisle) but don't know how because they're emotionally constipated vampires is an idea i'm normal about

[quadrantadvisor]

Sometimes I still think about The Owl House Gang all trying to watch ATLA together but then Zuko's backstory in The Storm retraumatizes Hunter so bad they have to stop

[thoughtpeek]

I'VE FINALLY FINISHED BROTHERSHIP IT WAS SOOOOO GOOD!!!!!!!

[yoohyeon]

If my parents learned how to apologize, 90% of the fight we have wouldn’t happen….

[bethanydelleman]

I'm really tired of the "woman sad about her arranged marriage" trope, especially if that woman is royalty.

I am sure that many women across time were sad about their arranged marriages, but I'm sure a lot of others were excited, ambivalent, or resigned. Again, especially if you were royalty! I am sure if you were born a princess, you were trained from birth that your whole purpose in life was to marry someone important to solidify the power of the person on the throne. And honestly, it's an important job, if it wasn't, they wouldn't have tried so hard to do it.

That woman isn't just marrying another king or prince, she's going to be an ambassador of her country. She's supposed to be there promoting good relations. She isn't just a woman being sold off, she has a job! Also, if she is marrying the reigning monarch (or the heir), she may well end up running the country if the king is off at war or he dies when the heir is really young. That happened a lot throughout history! (or maybe she marries the third son and helps him find his way to the throne. Good for her)

It just feels like a modern sentiment being projected back. In Romeo and Juliet, when Juliet's mother first brings up marrying her to Paris, Juliet's basically cool with it and says she'll try to like him. She would have known this was going to happen because that is what rich women do, they marry into another family so their two families can be buddies. What else would she even be expecting?

It wouldn't bother me so much except that it's all we see! Give me a story about a woman who is like, "Cool, I shall give it my all!" Or she's like rolling up her sleeves and planning how she's going to get the court on her side and rule France, power behind the throne style (these women are mostly portrayed as villains, but who is to say the king would do a better job?). And also, have a little faith in women's fathers? You think men in the past didn't occasionally consider the happiness of their daughters? Not even a little bit?

[yaniluvs]

⋆˙⟡ ⌇ 방찬 : UNDERNEATH THE SHEETS ── aftercare with your boyfriend, after a particularly long and rough night.

𓍯 idolbf!chan ʚଓ fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ）0.8k ── ༯ HEADCANON, fluff, humour, care, req. by anon, mdni! . ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ okay, this may have come as a surprise since i don't post any mdni content.. however it is mostly unexplicit ! thank you to my lovely anon for requesting this, hope i have written it to your expectations! (╥﹏╥). though i may have had a hard time writing this lmao. comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated ! happy reading <3

“are you sure you’re okay?” his voice was soft, but there was a slight tremor in it — a clear indication of how worried he was.

the room was steeped in a comforting silence, the only sound being the faint hum of the air conditioner and the rustle of soft sheets as his girlfriend shifted slightly. the glow from the moonlight filtered through the blinds, casting silvery streaks over the rumpled bed. chan, who was nuzzled in the curve of her neck, looked up slightly to see her flushed-and-fucked-out face, breath heavy. his eyes, apologetic and half lidded, his expression a mix of concern and tenderness.

her hair was a mess, cheeks flushed, but her eyes sparkled with affection. she reached out, cupping his jaw in her hand, thumb brushing against his cheekbone. “i told you, i'm as good as ever, chris.”

he frowned, clearly unconvinced, his brows furrowing in that adorable way that always made her heart flip, as he lifted himself slightly to look at her better. “was i too rough? did i hurt you? can you walk? you don't need to lie i can delay my schedule tomorrow-”

"what? no, no!" y/n frowned, and leaned in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “chan, baby, i literally told you it was amazing, like, five times already. you didn’t hurt me, at all. i told you i was okay with it and i really am.”

“if anything, i’m kinda hoping for a repeat performance sometime soon.”

that made him flush a deep crimson, his ears turning a shade of pink that she absolutely adored. he groaned, burying his face in his hands, muttering, “oh my god, you’re gonna kill me.”

"really, can't believe that you're all shy now considering how you were practically cho-"

he groaned, falling back down and nuzzling into her neck as his hands covered his crimson ears, while the girl under him only laughed.

she tugs his hands away so she could see his whole face. “i mean it, though. you were incredible.” her fingers traced gentle patterns along his forearm, grounding him. “but,” she added with a small smile, “i do love seeing this side of you, too. all soft and caring and…” she paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “a little overdramatic.”

“overdramatic?” he echoed, feigning offense, though the corners of his lips twitched upward. “i’m just making sure you’re okay! is that a crime?”

“not at all,” she said, leaning in to kiss him softly. her lips lingered against his for a moment before she pulled back, resting her forehead against his. “but seriously, chan. i’m okay. i feel… happy. loved. really, really good.”

he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing a little. “okay,” he murmured. “if you’re sure.”

“i’m sure.” she smiled, tucking herself closer to him, her head resting against his chest. his heartbeat was steady beneath her ear, a soothing rhythm that made her feel completely at ease.

chan wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer. his fingers trailed up and down her back in slow, gentle strokes, the gesture both comforting and intimate. “you’re amazing, you know that?” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “i don’t deserve you.”

y/n tilted her head to look up at him, her expression softening. “don’t say that,” she murmured, reaching up to brush her fingers through his curls. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, chris. i’d choose you a thousand times over.”

his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, emotion flickering in his dark eyes. “you’re too good to me.”

“i think it’s the other way around,” she teased, poking his chest lightly. “you’re literally the sweetest, most thoughtful person ever. and, not to mention, ridiculously handsome.”

he chuckled, his cheeks tinting pink again. “you’re biased.”

“maybe a little,” she admitted with a grin. “but that doesn’t make it any less true.”

they lay there for a while, wrapped up in each other. chan’s hands never stopped moving—one smoothing over her hair, the other tracing invisible shapes along her spine. y/n felt herself relaxing further, her body melting into his warmth.

“do you want some water?” he asked suddenly, his voice cutting through the comfortable silence. “or hot cocoa to make up? i can get you something if you’re hungry.”

she laughed softly, shaking her head. “i’m good, just tired. just wanna stay here with you.”

his lips curved into a small smile as he pressed another kiss to her forehead. “okay. but if you need anything, you tell me, yeah?”

“i will,” she promised, nuzzling closer. “you’re such a worrier.”

“can you blame me?” he said, his tone light but sincere. “i just… i care about you. so much.”

her heart swelled at his words, and she tilted her head to capture his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. when she pulled back, she rested her hand against his cheek, her thumb brushing over his skin. “i care about you, too. more than you know.”

they stayed like that, tangled up in each other, sharing soft whispers and quiet laughter. chan’s initial worry had melted away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. he held her like she was the most precious thing in the world, and to him, she was.

[solelifauna]

Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt. 3

Finally getting a tiny bit of Bruce's monologue!! And uh oh, looks like you've gotta clock in!

As the car began to move, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of panic. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on you. You tried your best to focus on anything but the Waynes, your mind desperately attempting to process what just happened in the parking lot. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, staring out the window as the city lights blurred past. It was then that Damian decided to break the awkward silence.

“Father, what is the meaning of bringing her along with us?” Damian spoke curtly, disdain marring his voice when mentioning you.

As much as you disliked him as well, he had a point. Why the hell are you sitting here with them?

Bruce glanced at Damian. Truth be told, he didn't quite know why. While you were his child, one out of the only two biological children he had, he had never really had the time or care to acknowledge you. You coming into his life abruptly disturbed everything, so he paid you no mind. He’ll admit, it wasn't fair of him to do so, but he had bigger things to worry about. He was tired, and a child that wasn't involved with his night business, who did not understand what his life of vigilantism took out of him, would never understand the sacrifices that he's had to make. It wasn't until seeing you on the football field, happy, talking to your friends and acting in a way he'd never seen you do, he'd begun to realize what he missed. 

When did you get so tall? He could have sworn you were no taller than his waist. And when did you join the cheerleading team? And who was that girl throwing her arm around you? Who was that boy? Gods, just how much has he missed? 

But he couldn't say all of that. So instead he just replied, “She's a part of this family, Damian and she needed a ride back home.”

He could feel Cassandra’s knowing stare, she could read him better than anybody and she knew the inner turmoil brewing in his heart. That's coupled with Stephanie’s smirk and Dick’s predatory grin. Jason grunted in response, clearly not pleased with the arrangement. Lastly, he could see the disbelief on your face, as if you couldn't believe you'd even be considered part of this family. And he’s mostly to blame. 

He internally sighed. He'd have to work on that. You were his daughter. His. It was his job to keep you safe and happy. It was his job to make sure you felt loved. And right now? He was no better than Jannet and Jack Drake leaving poor Tim to fend for himself. But that would all soon change, starting with himself and his children.

You on the other hand were still reeling from Bruce’s words. “Family”? Is he fucking kidding or what?

Dick, always the one to break the tension with his charm, spoke up next. "Hey, (Y/n), when did you become a cheerleader? I didn't know you were into that sort of stuff." Dick said with that condescending tone.

Your eyes twitched. You did not like his tone.

“That's none of your business Dick.” You shot back before you could even think.

Everyone looked your way. Whoops, that was your bad. 

It was Jasons turn to get upset, “Watch your fucking mouth.” He growled, ever possessive over his older brother.

You immediately froze up, offering a quick and quiet apology before retreating into your own head. Jason–Jason scared you more than any of the others. You knew about his pit rage, you knew about the bloody and beaten bodies he's left in the wake of his rage. You knew he’d never dream of hurting his family, the pit often aiding in his possessive tendencies over the rest of the bats but– you weren't family. And you'd hate to be on the receiving end of Jason’s wrath.

If anyone had continued talking to you, you wouldn’t know. The sound around you was muffled like your head was filled with cotton and you could feel yourself shaking. You wanted out. Now. Thankfully, the rest of the ride was mostly quiet. Sure, everyone would occasionally turn their eyes towards you, making you shrink further in on yourself, but you were almost at the manor. The vehicle barely came to a stop before you were throwing yourself out the door and into the manor. You bid Alfred a quick “goodbye” and “thank you” before bolting up the stairs and into your room. 

You locked the door, not that anyone would bother coming up to your room, but still it gave you security nonetheless. You stripped and hopped into the shower, the soreness in your body now making itself known. God it was gonna suck tomorrow. Why? Because it was Friday today, that meant tomorrow would be Saturday, and that meant that you'd have to go to work at the ass crack of dawn, 5 am. Plus, you didn't even have your bike, so you’d have to rely on Alfred to take you and bring you back. Great.

So with a heavy heart and heavy limbs, you tucked yourself into bed ready for the worst sleep of your life. 

You wake up to the grating sound of your iphone alarm, as you groggily get up to brush your teeth, shower and get ready for the long day ahead. Making your way down for a cup of coffee, sleep still in your eyes, you fail to notice the looming figure of Tim Drake already sipping his own coffee. It was dark downstairs and you were still fighting off exhaustion from the day before, so who could blame you for not seeing the corner of the cabinet. Before you knew it, you were hunched over on the floor grabbing your pinkie toe in pain. 

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, that hurt! Holy shit, kill yourself, kill yourself! Who the fuck puts a cabinet there, oh my god.” You wailed in pain, cursing at the damn cabinet. You’d blame it on delirium and exhaustion. Honestly, it was an expected crashout.

You laid pathetically on the floor for a couple of more seconds before you heard a monotone, disinterested voice make itself known.

“Are you done now?” Tim says from behind you.

You yelp in surprise, before clumsily scrambling up and turning around. And there he was, sitting at the counter, coffee in hand and an almost (dare you say) amused look on his face. You blanche. Shit, how long has he been sitting there? Oh god, please don't say he’s witnessed the entirety of your embarrassing crashout? 

And as if reading your mind, he cryptically answers, “Yes, I've been here this entire time.” All while sipping his coffee as his calculating eyes scarily bore into your figure.

You don't know what to say, embarrassed out of your mind, so you just apologize. 

“Right–um, sorry about that. I’m just tryna get some coffee. I'll be out your way.” You hastily say before turning, tail tucked back towards the coffee pot. 

You could still feel the weight of Tim’s stare on you but you're too tired and embarrassed to care. You pour yourself a big cup of straight up black coffee and proceed to chug it while walking towards the sink. After finishing it, you proceeded to gag for a few seconds, the bitter taste still permeating your mouth. God you hated the taste of black coffee, but you’d do whatever it takes to not fall asleep on the job. You discard your cup into the sink before you decide to find Alfred, it was 4:37 am and you needed to clock in by 5:00 am or else your ass was grass. You conveniently ignore Tim who has watched all of your misfortune happen this morning. He doesn't say anything when you leave the dining/kitchen area, just eerily watches. 

God, he made you nervous.

Anyways, your quest to find Alfred was short lived as he seemingly appeared out of nowhere, Damian in tow (you could feel the scar on your face burning). Great, was everyone up at this ungodly hour or was it just them two? You avoided the heat of Damian’s glare as you relayed to Alfred your predicament, apologizing profusely since you did ask him last minute. He simply smiled at you, letting you know that “it is never a hindrance when you need something Master (Y/n).” You smiled back in relief, thanking him once more as Alfred got ready to drop you off.

But of course, Damian just had to break the silence. 

“What could you possibly need to do at this hour? Alfred has better things to do other than encouraging your galavanting.” Damian spoke sharply.

You just sighed, “Not that it's any of your business, but I have work.”You don't offer any more information as your hand unknowingly caresses the scarred tissue on your face. 

Damian’s eyes draw to your face at the movement, seemingly fixated on the scar he left on you. He doesn’t think much of it, but sometimes, something green and dangerous purrs inside of him. Yes, his mark. It was his mark on your face. As much as he hated you, you were his only other blood-sibling no matter how weak and useless you were. He had bested you, and usually would pay you no mind, you knew your place and would typically remain docile. But recently you’ve been showing a new abrasive side, one he is not particularly fond of.

He’d have to talk to father about it.

Silence permeates the air as he doesnt bother to dignify your disrespect with a response. You’re saved when Alfred comes back with keys, both you and him rushing to whatever vehicle he's pulled out from the large, large selection of coveted cars Bruce owns. Looks like it's a BMW today. You practically throw yourself in, as Alfred speeds away to the cafe you work at. You arrive at work in record speed, bidding Alfred a “goodbye” before rushing to throw your apron on and clock in. 

You’re greeted by the one other person working your shift, Matheo. He’s a sweet boy, very soft-spoken and mostly sticks in the back near the kitchen to bake the pastries while you work the register. Of course he comes and helps with drink orders when it's particularly busy, he’s too kind to leave you to fend for yourself. Regardless, you have a pretty straight forward agreement, which is what spells your doom. It was a regular Saturday shift, with the pilate moms coming in, middle schoolers loitering, and the occasional customer with an attitude. Everything was fine and dandy till three familiar faces walk in.

You were ever the busy body, finishing one last drink before yelling out a quick “I’ll help y’all shortly!”, to whoever just walked in. You quickly rush over to the register, not even bothering to look up from the register.

“Sorry ‘bout the wait! Now what can I get you?” You said in your regular customer service voice.

“Well, well, well, turns out you were right Dami, she does work here.” A chillingly familiar voice jests.

You freeze, slowly looking up only to be met with Dick smiling at you. It was not a kind smile, no, there was something dangerous about it. Behind him, you could see the familiar figures of Cassandra and Damian. What the hell are they doing here? God, you should have never mentioned anything to Damian, now you had to deal with this.

“R–right, what can I get you?” You shakily say, putting back on your customer service persona. 

Dick’s smile grows, his teeth now visible, almost as if he was baring his teeth. Danger. Something inside you screamed.

“I’ll just have a vanilla cold brew, extra cold foam. Dami, Cass, what do you want?” Dick grinns.

“Tch, I don't want anything from this place.” Damian says, uninterested.

“Cass?” Dick asks, looking at her.

She comes up to the register, giving Dick a one-off-glance. Worryingly, her eyes seem to be fixated on you. She doesn't say anything for a few seconds, holding immensely uncomfortable eye contact with you before relaying her order.

“Just a caramel latte.” Cass says, still looking down at you.

You frantically fill in their orders on the register.

“Will that be all?” You ask. You hoped that was all, you didn't want them spending another minute talking to you.

Dick says a quick cheerful “no” before you ring them up and get started with the two drinks. It doesn't take too much time before you’re calling out their names to come get their drinks. You hope they leave right after. But of course, nothing goes according to your wishes as they grab their drinks and seat themselves at a table. Great.

The minutes after result in further disaster. After a couple of more customers, a lady comes up to you, face already molded into a scowl with a half empty drink in her hand. Oh great, a “karen”.

“Hello ma’am, how can I help you?” You kindly say.

“You! I need a refund. Right. Now!” The lady booms, wagging her finger in your face.

“A refund, right, is there a reason you’re requesting a refund?” 

“A reason!? You made my drink wrong and I want my money back!”

“Please correct me if i'm wrong, but I believe you ordered a double mocha cappuccino, correct?” You ask slowly.

“Yes, that's what I ordered! Why are you asking me all these questions?!”

“Sorry ma’am, but that is the drink I gave you. Is there something specifically wrong with the drink?”

“The drink that you gave me is wrong, you made it wrong! It doesn't taste anything like regular coffee!”

“Oh, well sometimes different cafes use different recipes for the same drink, i think maybe that's why–”

“–Well I don't care! I want a refund!”

You could feel eyes on you as the other patrons start to notice the commotion brewing.

“Ma’am, i'm so sorry but i can't give you a refund, you’ve already drank half the drink. If you would have let me know sooner, I could've remade it for you, but–I'm sorry ma’am I can't give you that refund.”

“Are you serious! Why I never!? It's always bitches like you who try scamming people out of their money!”

“Ma'am, I'm really sorry, it's the company policy. I just work here–” You gently say, trying to calm her down.

“–Go to hell you bitch!” Is all you hear before you’re doused in the face with warm coffee. 

You just stand there is shock, blinking through the coffee. There's no way that just happened. Theo, comes out having heard the commotion (albeit a little too late), only to be met with the sight of you covered in coffee.

“Oh my gosh (Y/n)! I should have come sooner, are you okay?”

“Peachy.” You say, voice audibly watery and cracking.

“I'll take care of everything up here, you go take some time in the back. Clean up or honestly if you don't feel like it, just rest in the back–”

“–It's okay Theo, I–I just need a couple of minutes. I'm fine.”

He gives you a quizzical stare.

“I'm fine. I promise.” You smile, although you could feel your eyes starting to water. 

You hastily walk off to the break room and proceed to cry for a good 2 minutes before deciding to start cleaning yourself up. You do your best to get the coffee that's dried into hair out while wiping down your now sicky arms and face. Changing your apron gets rid of most of the mess, but your shirt underneath still has a couple of large patches of coffee. Sighing, you tidy yourself up as much as possible before heading back to the counter, Theo worriedly waiting for you. You just shoot him a thumbs up and let him know that it’s okay for him to retreat back to the kitchen; he lingers for a moment, hesitant to leave you alone, but drudges back regardless.

There are eyes on you. You look up perturbed, only to find Dick, Cass, and Damian still sitting at their table, sharp stares pinned on your figure. They saw all that happen, didn't they? You mentally cringed. 

Checking your watch, you realize that there are still four more hours left on your shift. Great, that's great–just another four more hours, which is technically thirty minutes eight times, which is technically fifteen minutes sixteen times–and you’ve lost it. Jesus you were losing your mind, which was understandable (honestly you're surprised it hasn't happened sooner) during one of the worst shifts of your life.

It’s fine. You got this. Just four more hours, and you can have your “Mental Breakdown Part Ⅱ™”.

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[clockwayswrites]

Birdritch... something. I hurt so much. It's some number. You'll figure it out. You're smart, darlings.

masterpost over on @clockwaysadmin

Danny stayed at the back, trailing after the rambunctious flock of Waynes as they made their way behind the stage and to the other, hidden side of the theater. It made Danny smile, to see the family bumping shoulders, teasing, and laughing with each other.

His life in Gotham was something that Danny loved. He’d clawed it out from the proverbial grave of his death and everything that came with it: nearly failing high school, his failing health after, the trauma it left him with, the relationship with his parents he left behind. But he’d gotten to the surface. He got his Bachelors and Masters and PHD. He got a job that he traded for another and another until he rose up to where he worked at an amazing company and got mostly left alone to dream up new ways to make the world better.

Danny loved it.

But that didn’t mean that Danny didn’t miss the close friendships that (metaphorically and physically), Danny had moved away from to achieve what he had. Visiting Jazz and Taylor, Sam and her brood, or Tucker and his partners wasn’t the same as living with them close. He missed what the Waynes had with an ache so deep that he had to push it aside so that it didn’t swallow him whole.

“Cass!”

Tim calling his sister’s name shook Danny out of his rumination. He found a little out of the way spot of wall to lean against between some boxes and rolls of scenery.

“You were amazing, darling,” Bruce said as he leaned in to kiss Cass’ cheek.

Bruce handed over the bouquet of white roses and babies-breath that he had brought from where it had been stored in the sitting room. Cass basically buried her face in the flowers and inhaled.

“For real, little sis, your moves were amazing. You have to show me how you hold some of those poses so still,” Dick said.

“As if you could stay still,” Barbara teased with a well placed poke to Dick’s side that made him squeak and move defensively behind Cass.

“Pretty sure she beats you in flexibility now too, dickhead,” Jason said.

“It is okay, love you still,” Cass said in her soft tone. She pulled out one of the roses from the mass of flowers and tucked it behind Dick’s ear.

Dick looked momentarily torn if he should be insulted or fond, though fond quickly won out and he pressed a little kiss to the top of Cass’ head. It seemed to be a signal, somehow, and suddenly all of the family was talking to Cass or to each other. The fatigue was starting to pull too heavily on Danny for him to make out most of the chatter, so he simply closed his eyes and let the happy voices wash over him.

There was a gentle pressure on his arm. Danny blinked his eyes open to a worried Cass, dark brows furrowed above the dramatic white and glitter of her stage make up. Danny smiled, though he knew it probably looked a little drawn.

“Hello, Cass,” Danny signed.

The furrow between the bows only grew as she signed. “You okay?”

“Okay. Tired,” Danny replied before he gave up to talking verbally. The sleep clouded his mind about signs right then. He really would have to practice. “I’m just a little out of sorts, but I’m very glad I came. Thank you for inviting me. You danced absolutely wonderfully. I don’t know much about ballet, but even I could see how skilled you are.”

“Thank you. I am glad you came. Could have not,” she said.

“Of course I had to come, you invited me and it’s an important night for you. It should be!” Danny made himself stand up away from the wall and put a bit more energy into his smile. “I’m fine, really, fatigue just gets me sometimes.”

Cass turned his frown away from Danny and directed it at her father.

“I already talked Danny into letting us give him a ride home,” Bruce replied.

“I really would be fine,” Danny couldn’t help but argue. “I’ve made it home in worse states than this.”

“Oddly enough,” Jason interjected, “you really aren’t helping your case.”

Danny couldn’t do anything else but give an unrepentant little shrug to that. He probably wasn’t, but it was true. Besides, he had already agreed to the ride, not that he felt he had much choice. It was too easy to be swept along by the Waynes.

Barbara may be right that they did absorb people.