#self credit oops
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Carpe Diem | Michael Gavey x fem!reader
Summary: After himself being ditched by Oliver, they meet once again. Both seemingly skirting around what happened in the Common Room when they last saw one another. | Word Count: 5.1k~ (oops) | Warnings below the cut!
Part One: Quid Pro Quo
Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici
warnings: virgin michael, oral sex (f receiving), fingering
A/N: I feel...like the word count is overboard but FUCK IT it's my blog 😈
“Greek and Latin both belong to the Indo-European language family, which does not necessarily mean they are similar. The branches are totally different. Whereas Latin belongs to the Romance branch, Greek belongs to the…”
She half-listens to the lecture, caught between Professor Wardon’s monotone ramblings and scribbling whatever bits and pieces she can string together in swirly handwriting, trying to ignore Trevor two rows in front of her, typing loudly on his brand new Macbook that he no doubt got from his well-off parents for Christmas.
Pencil and paper for the peasants, she thinks bitterly.
The laptop she has back in her dorm is clunky, too thick for carrying in her bag, and any notes she makes now will have to be typed up meticulously later. She supposes it’s a good way of getting the information to be irreparably printed into her brain though. That’s the only thing keeping her from going insane.
Which is where she finds herself now, in the wee hours of the morning, her fingers so tired and eyes so strained she feels that all the letters and characters are beginning to merge together.
She's just about to close the damn thing when a notification blares in the bottom right corner of her screen.
‘m_gav_314159265359 is now online’
She presses her lips together to stifle a laugh at the username, it makes her giggle every time. Of course his username is fucking Pi.
After their little ‘happening’ in the Common Room, they'd talked for a bit over MSN, sometimes texting when she had enough credit and even more rarely meeting up at Trinity College campus. Their timetables never seemed to line up very often, so their meetings were quick and over before they could even get settled into really getting to know each other.
It felt strange to have done something so exciting and yet not really know someone.
The memory made her blush. She was never usually that impulsive and brazen. But she didn't regret it.
Everytime Michael saw her, his cheeks flushed almost without her even needing to try. And it felt nice to see someone act like that in her presence.
After lectures had started after Christmas into the New Year and then into Spring, she found herself somewhat self-conscious. Second guessing herself. Wondering if the freedom and calmness of the holiday period had given him a new sense of clarity.
After all, he'd not spoken to her once since lectures had started again.
A heaviness weighed in her chest, bitterly like rejection.
Maybe she was delirious from the time of night, but she felt a surge of courage, desperately wanting to just know if this was going to be more or not.
She felt her cheeks heat somewhat, rubbing the backs of her knuckles against her lips. There was no time to reply before he sent another.
And if what he'd said before didn't make her face burn, that certainly did. She nearly smirked when she thought to herself, 'you mean when I sucked you off in the Common Room?'
But she didn't type that. She decided to have mercy on him, if only a little.
His replies were so blunt and to the point that they were so quintessentially Michael. She found herself wondering if what he'd typed before had been for the intention of making her blush, but she doubted it. He seemed the type to be somewhat oblivious to how words could affect the opposite sex.
Or anything to do with the opposite sex for that matter.
Her stomach fluttered with excitement as she typed off a few quick goodbyes and with a soft, plastic tap, shut her laptop for the night.
“There are no fit guys in my class this semester, fucking livid,” Priya rolls her eyes, nursing a stale pint and a cigarette.
“Did you really expect Modern Languages to be teeming with attractive men?” She smirks in response.
“No. But I at least expected a good shag within the first three months.”
“Does they have to be within our course?”
“No, course not. I'm not lazy as fuck. Can’t be arsed to go off campus.”
She laughs, waving the smoke trail that's formed between their faces, the smell of cigarettes and damp, beer-soaked carpets fill her senses, nursing the only pint she's capable of downing.
“Don't shit where you eat, Priya.”
“Don't you fuckin’ start,” she grins with all her perfect teeth before checking her phone, “fuck, is that the time. Sorry mate you've got like half your pint left-”
“Don't be silly, just go. Whoever you're meeting is bound to have a bigger cock than me anyway.”
“You're a nasty bitch, you know that?” she smiles, standing and pulling her mini-skirt down, “see you later? Catch up?”
“Wouldn't miss it for the world. Have fun!”
“Oh I will!”
She smiles, sipping the stale beer as Priya rushes out the door excitedly tapping the keypads on her phone in reply to a guy no-doubt, nearly running right into a lamppost.
She pulled out her own phone, spotting a new message from the ex-boyfriend she hadn’t heard a peep out of since Freshers Week, groaning with a displeased expression at the first few lines of text that read as if he were desperate. Even over the crackling sound of the speakers and Daniel Powter’s ‘Bad Day’ lulling quietly through the pub, she was still sensitive to the sound of his voice.
“-get me another pint please, Oliver? Thanks.”
She had to crane her neck, half-swivelled on her chair, but it was undoubtedly him. Only one person had that hissy, direct way of speaking, had dirty, blonde hair that touched the nape of his neck and was likely to wear such an…interesting selection of clothes.
Her mouth was barely open before she realised it was Michael, and by then he was too far away to shout from across a busy pub. She found herself with a sort of stupid grin, watching him walk with such a lanky gait, as if walking were an inhuman thing for him to do.
It took her a few moments to text back a reply to her ex before she looked up again, eyebrows furrowed when she saw that whoever Michael had been with, was now umming and ahhing about whether to join the popular lot, for which she recognised Felix Catton amongst them, shockingly ill-dressed in a ‘what happens in Kassiopi stays in Kassiopi’ t-shirt, with a cigarette between his lips that had been inhaled to a nub.
She grimaced. Only rich people could dress so fucking shocking.
And then her heart leapt in a different way when she saw Michael look distantly at Oliver, his hand half-raised in an awkward wave, his face crumbling in a way where she knew he was disappointed and yet, not surprised in the slightest.
It was when Michael pushed his glasses up his nose in a way she couldn’t help but find sweet and go for the door, that she slipped from the stool she was on, a quarter of her pint left, and took off after him.
“Michael!”
The late winter air nipped at her skin, cursing internally that his legs were so fucking long he could stride a hell of a lot further than her.
“Michael!”
It wasn’t hard to see the glint of his glasses lenses off the streetlights once he’d turned to face her, his lips parted in surprise and a heat rising to his cheeks.
He swallowed visibly, “H-hey..”
She felt her own heart rattle in her chest at how easy it was to fluster him, “Hey, you alright?”
For a moment, the self-proclaimed mathematical genius seemed genuinely lost for words, his throat closing up on him like he was having a sort of allergic reaction to the opposite sex. So with all that, he simply nodded, his hands clenched as if not knowing what to do with them.
“Sorry about your mate, that was a shitty thing to do.”
“Oh, he’s…he’s not my mate.”
She nodded, rubbing her hands together to warm them from the chill, “d’you wanna go somewhere?”
Michael’s eyes behind his glasses widened, “like…together?”
“No, I’ll make you go off on your own,” she grinned, “yes together!”
He huffed an embarrassed but elated laugh, and only now her eyes studied his shirt, cocking her head in amusement at the ‘that’s how I roll’ shirt with what looked like a maths equation beneath it. The actual meaning was lost on her, but it was so dorky it made her smile.
“U-uh, my mum bought it me for Christmas...” he muttered quickly to which she cracked an even bigger smile, the two of them laughing quietly for a moment before he spoke up again.
“Do you wanna come to mine?” he asked, and it was so direct it made her blink, her lungs feeling as if they were fluttering, “I mean-my dorm.”
She wet her lips from the dry cold, watching how nervous and twitchy he was. And how it reminded her of the last time they were alone together.
“Like…catch up or something. I-I’ve got alcohol if you-”
“That’d be lovely, Michael.”
He at least seemed grateful that she’d actually replied to save him from rambling, and even cracked a thin-lipped smile himself, clearly and delightfully nervous. Thirty-minutes ago, he’d have never considered this to be the ending to his evening.
Michael’s room is disturbingly tidy, she wonders if he actually even lives here. It’s like those university rooms that they take photos of to advertise the ‘spacious’ and ‘community-driven’ atmosphere of campus life.
At least it was clean, she mused as Michael passed her a bottle of the only alcohol he had, which were lukewarm WKDs.
“Thanks,” she smiles, taking a sugary sip and looking about the room. Michael has since cracked open his own drink, but seems disinterested in it as it rests on his bouncing knee, looking up at her from where he’s sat on his desk chair from under his brow.
His laptop sits shut, pencils in a neat line next to it. His walls are bare, with what she can only assume are blue tack marks from the previous tenant’s last year. With the exception of a wall-mounted calendar next to his desk.
“No posters? Was hoping I could be nosy, see what you like.”
When she turns back to Michael he quickly looks down as if not wanting to be caught staring, “It’d just be maths stuff.”
“And Carol Vorderman?” she teases mindlessly, not catching the way his cheeks go alight.
She hums an amused laugh behind the bottle at her lips, “It’s very tidy.”
When he just replies with a shrug, she scoots off the bed to have a roam about the place, needing only a few steps to cross the room to his bookcase, filled to the brim neatly with books. She runs her finger along some of the spines.
“You’re not going to mess anything up are you?”
She laughs, coming out more of a snort, which makes her cheeks warm, “Sorry. Just curious about your books. ‘Mathematics of Language. Sounds like a bit of me and you.”
There’s that flush again.
That deer in the headlights look.
“Uh…just sounded interesting.”
“And is it?”
“Is it what?”
She smirks, “interesting.”
There’s a silence that for a moment neither of them are able to shake.
Michael swallows visibly, “don’t know yet..”
She sees something in his expression when a playful smile lifts across her face, suddenly the memories and implications of what they’d done before now weighing heavily on them. And all at once, he’s able to smell the body scrub she’d used in the shower that morning and eyes flitting to the glint of her stud earrings. He’d remembered brushing past them with his fingers when her mouth wrapped around his-
“And who says you’re not a languages man?” she presses with a teasing lilt to her voice. The tone and sing-songy nature of her voice has his heart doing backflips, feeling as if he could feel the erratic beating between his ribs.
Michael seems stuck in the position he finds himself as she lazily crosses the room, slipping back on his bed, one hand brushing across his bedsheets and the other setting the drink on his bedside table. For a long moment, his eyes couldn’t leave her. The whole situation was suitably extraordinary. A girl who had come onto him (to say the least) was now in his room, sat on his bed, touching his things…all while wearing something he personally deemed unsuitable for the cold, a dress with black tights beneath.
She turns her head to him, smiling, “you seem nervous.”
He swallows, trying to claw at any sort of reply, “is that an accusation?”
It comes out a bit harsher than he probably expected, but instead of recoiling, she bites her lip as if to stifle a full-toothed grin, “an observation.”
He shrugs, “just never had a girl in here before.”
“Worried I’ll mess up your feng shui?”
“My what?”
She genuinely laughs at that, nearly smacking her head on the bed frame, but a hearty chuckle all the same. And Michael doesn’t know why his own cheeks start to heat up at that, taking this opportunity that her eyes are shut to look down at her legs. For some reason, making her laugh just makes him want to try more.
He’s never had that feeling before. Wanting to make someone laugh.
“No, really, my what.”
She meets his eyes brightly with her own, “feng shui, it’s like…the vibe of a room, a space. Like, how you place your furniture or whatever.”
Michael raises a brow, his lip quirking on one side, “sounds like bullshit.”
“It probably is.” she laughs.
“Can I ask you something?”
The quick u-turn and tone in conversation has her eyes meet his nervously, her interest and curiosity piqued. Her hands find themselves nervously stroking her legs, the texture of the tights providing some level of comfort, “yeah sure.”
She can't quite figure out what expression he's trying to put on. His brows are furrowed in judgement and a curious sense of guarding himself. And yet he's sat back in his seat, looking at her like he is trying to figure her out, and yet wants to know why she is the way she is.
“Why did you do that?”
She blinks at the accusatory and monotone rhythm of his way of speaking.
“Do what.”
“Don't play stupid. Doesn't suit you.”
She nearly scoffs at that, “what? Why have you gone all weird all of a sudden?”
“Why did you do…that at the Christmas party?”
She shrugs and shakes her head, as if the answer should be obvious, “because I wanted to? And you didn't seem to mind either.”
“I didn't-that's not the point!” he retorts, “are you genuinely taking the mick out of me?”
“You've asked that before and no.”
“Well why then?”
“Is it not enough to really think that I find you interesting? And nice to talk to?”
Of all the things she expected Michael Gavey to go quiet at, it certainly wasn't that. But she watches him all the same, the line between his brow slowly disappearing as his frown vanishes.
She cocks her head, “and not bad looking either.”
“Stop it.”
“I mean it!”
“Nobody wants the fucking maths virgin-”
“Michael. I don't give a fuck about that,” she says calmly, “Hell, I was a virgin not that long ago. You keep saying ‘nobody wants the virgin’ but you can't keep using that as an excuse just because you're embarrassed you haven't done anything.”
He sighs, like he doesn't want to believe her. And she can hardly believe how self-deprecating and yet direct this man can be in a single breath.
“Look, if you don't want to talk to me, I can always go-”
Almost as soon as she is stood, he is too, one large hand wrapped around her forearm, “No.”
They've been sat so long, she had almost forgotten how tall he was, and the difference between them briefly has her tummy doing back flips. From here, she is able to smell whatever body wash he uses, and if she had to guess, probably blue radox.
“No, I didn't say I wanted you to go. Stay…”
He doesn't say ‘please’ once, and yet she's able to hear the desperation.
When she doesn't move, his grip loosens, and she feels tingly all over when his hand slides up her arm.
“Can I kiss you again like last time?”
She almost smiles in adoration at how he asks it, but for the sake of saving him the embarrassment of thinking she's laughing at him, settles for a simple and gentle nod of her head. She is sure she's not really thought it through. Weighing up the pros and cons isn't exactly the first thing on her mind right now though as Michael has to bend significantly to crash his lips to hers.
Much like last time, he is a bit endearingly clumsy, his lips moving quickly on hers like he's running a race with his mouth. This time there is no pool table for him to cage her against, but all the same his legs take him forwards until her knees hit the edge of his bed.
By the time he is on top of her, she's managed to weave her fingers through his hair, her nose nudging against his glasses every now and then, and guiding him with her own movements to slow down and enjoy the moment, with no need to rush.
She knows that secretly he's probably just excited.
But this time, his hands are extremely active.
She's unable to help the breathy whimper between desperate kisses as he tentatively squeezes her thighs, not quite brave enough to go beneath the dress yet and drifting upwards to her breasts, touching and clutching fondly, as if any harsh grip or movement and she'll get up and leave.
He's still unsure, maybe even nervous, she can feel it.
It's here she realises that whether he is doing it subconsciously or not, she can feel the strained bulge at the front of his trousers rubbing up against the inside of her leg, probably chasing friction that feels too good for him to feel lucid.
“Can I see you…” he asks as his lips break away.
She doesn't even reply, she just complies, pulling the sleeves of her dress over her shoulders and the bra straps along with it. The position she's in making it near impossible to reach behind her.
If she could print his face in her mind as she pulled her dress down to her ribs, she would. He looks entirely mesmerised in adoration, and once the only thing covering her breasts is the thin material of her bra, Michael looks at her with an almost dream-like gaze.
His hand moves before his mouth, or at least before he catches himself, “Is it oka-”
“Course..” she says far too quickly.
All she can hear as Michael pulls the thin straps of her bra fully down her arms, exposing her breasts, is his breath, staggered and uneven. His hand easily covers one of her breasts, squeezing experimentally, his thumb gently drifting over her nipple and watching them stiffen to needy buds.
She doesn’t need to look between them to see how hard he is, she can feel him against her thigh, where her dress has since ridden up to her hips.
His glasses knock against her chest as he leans down, all-too-carefully covering her nipple with his tongue, like he is trying to print the taste of them to memory.
There is an unconscious desire to press her thighs together, but she settles for rolling her hips, causing Michael’s voice to rumble against her chest where he mouths at her breasts. One hand forever stays at the one he isn’t paying lip service to, testing the weight and shape in his palms.
It feels like all sensitivity has been turned up to 1000. He is so slow, so unsure, that every languid movement has every nerve feel as if it’s on fire. A selfish part of her wants him to go faster, so used to the fervent, almost rushing nature of who she’d been with before. It was never like this, borderline worshipping.
“Michael…” she breathes, rolling her hips against him experimentally, rewarded with a low whine from him.
She watched as her nipple slips from his lips in the most erotic manner she’d ever seen, before his clear eyes are on her again.
“Is this okay? Am I doing something wr-”
“No,” she shakes her head quickly, “feels nice.”
Michael licks his lips, a sign of how nervous he is, “Can I do something else?”
He is so eager to please, to learn, that looking at his face as he asks she can hardly deny him. And her head moves without effort, nodding as she watches his hand disappear beneath the hem of her dress to pull her tights down her legs.
It then becomes obvious what he wants to do.
“Are you sure, I-”
“I’m sure.” he adds, rolling the black nylon down her legs until all that is left between Michael and her bare skin below her hips, is her underwear. A flush of embarrassment engulfs her face at the thought of how aroused she might be, knowing he has no experience, she doesn’t want to scare him off. The tender and yet needy way he’d mouthed at her breasts had her body all warm, and she can’t remember the last time she’d been this ready for anything.
“I just want to do the same for you as you did for me. Make you feel good.”
And that certainly doesn’t help that feeling either.
She’s not sure if she will get tired of the sight of his long, lithe fingers gripping her thighs apart, and for a moment she finds herself entranced by the view, until he is pressing sweet kisses to the inside of them. Open-mouthed, with an addictive cooling sensation when he pulls away, only to edge closer to the centre of her underwear.
Her breath remains stuck in her chest as she watches him navigate the female body, mapping it out in his head. She knows better than to say anything, knowing him as she does now, he is immensely competitive, and wants to get things right. It’s likely if she stepped in to instruct him, it would only embarrass him more. So she stays quiet, and lets him come to her.
His thumb dips beneath the leg hole of her underwear, “Can I?”
She swallows visibly, now for some reason it’s her being the nervous one. Possibly because the first time, it was her doing something for him. And now, it is very much the feeling of being studied, of being watched to see what made her tick. A feeling that has her desperate for some kind of fulfilment. Anything.
She lifts her hips to help him slide her underwear down her legs, her cheeks warming at being so utterly exposed to him herself for the first time. There is a finality to it that she just can’t quite put into words. A point of no return.
A full body shudder made its way through her when she felt his thumb trail across the spot where her leg met her hip, trailing the line there that led to her sensitive womanhood.
Michael looked as if he was being presented with an equation, she could practically hear the thoughts in his head. But beyond not entirely knowing what to do, it didn't dissuade his curiosity.
She could tell though, that he didn't know what to do.
Michael nearly flinched when she took his hand, encouraging his thumb to touch her bundle nerves hidden between her folds.
She watched him as his thumb cautiously collected the wetness that had begun to come out of her and used it to gently apply pressure to her clit. Breath was hot in her chest as he started slowly.
“Does that feel good?” He asked softly.
As soon as she nodded, confirming how pleasurable it was, Michael's first reaction was to go faster. And so he did. Like he was trying to light a fire.
“No, no, no, it's fine to go slow.”
“Shit, sorry…”
“It’s fine,” she smiled, “just more gentle.”
The panic on his face had been clear. But at her gentle instruction, she saw him relax, taking her words and applying gentle pressure in slower, tighter circles. And it seemed Michael was now fully aware of its intended effect, as his eyes were able to lift up to hers underneath the rim of his glasses to see her breathing had increased, and blood rushing to her cheeks.
It felt incredible to watch his expressions, she thought. Seeing the little thoughts rattling around in his head, to be able to awaken something in him for the first time. But it also felt utterly exposing, and every time his thumb drew circles against her clit, she heard the soft click of her arousal that made the room feel as if she were inside an oven.
Michael’s lips parted, his head moving as if pulled by an invisible string to her core.
“Can I…?” he asked again, but more uncertain this time.
The anticipation gnaws so much at her skin, combined with the way he is taking his time that she has become somewhat impatient, so it’s completely involuntary when she nods her head and somehow manages a whispered ‘yes’.
She doesn't really, really know what's wrong with her. She's had head before. But when he dives between her thighs so quickly and eagerly, his thumbs almost pulling her skin gently to expose as much of her as he can, and swiping his tongue over the centre. From her entrance, all the way to her bundle of nerves.
It has her breath stuck in her chest, instinctively reaching down to run her fingers through his sandy hair. Even the slightest tug on it has a low groan vibrating through her where his mouth moves slowly against her.
“Michael…”
At first he is careful, taking the instruction she'd given him before and applying it to tasting her instead. But his eyes flit up to her when she breathes his name like that, so he redoubles his efforts, gripping the underside of her thighs to tug her towards him in a teasing rhythm.
She didn't really know what to expect, assuming he hadn't done anything like this before. But Michael seems eager to please, as he nudges between her sensitive folds to tease her entrance with his tongue, the sharp shape of his nose butting against her bud with every movement, as little as it is.
With one hand in his hair, her hips move against his face, the glasses perched on his face hanging askew. And all she can see is that his eyes are closed as he tastes her, every now and then he makes a noise between a whine and a moan, as if he didn't want the experience to end.
Dragging his tongue back up to her bud to focus his attention there, Michael experimentally slides one long, slender digit easily inside her, pleased at the breathy sound it seems to elicit from her. Two feelings at once, just as she'd given him before.
“Oh, shit-”
He fights the urge to smirk when he hears that. She's so warm and wet, that it's easy to slide in the second, feeling her walls suck him in as they clamp around his fingers moving in and out of her. It's a feeling he couldn't describe if he tried, and he daren't think of what she'd feel like around his cock, or if she'd let him.
She can feel her stomach muscles tightening, an orgasm bubbling up to the surface when he gains confidence, flicking her swollen clit with his tongue and pistoning two fingers with a pornographically wet smack into her over and over. Brushing that sweet spot inside that he manages to find sometimes, seemingly without realising.
“Michael - fuck - I'm gonna-”
He groans as her fingers tug at his hair, her hips grinding herself against him and chasing that delicious friction as her high barrels through her, sparking pleasure down each notch of her spine until it fizzles out through her limbs.
She can feel Michael grinding himself against the bed, searching for his own, as he maintains his actions, lapping up everything she gives him with determination. When she dares to look down at him, as if he can sense it, his eyes open to watch her expression, the blue of his eyes nearly entirely eclipsed by black.
As if something had been awoken in him that even he couldn't recognise he'd wanted.
With one last swipe of his tongue over her centre, Michael withdraws his fingers, gripping her thigh with them and making the skin there glisten.
Her cheeks feel as if they're on fire when he rights himself to his knees before her, looking down at her with admiration at how she is still essentially half naked. The tightness at the front of his jeans makes it obvious how he felt about what he'd just done.
Engrossed by watching her breasts move as she breathes heavily, the slight shimmer of sweat on her collarbones, Michael raises his hand to his face, using his palm to wipe her slick from his lips and chin.
She breaks the silence with a tired laugh when he pushes his glasses back up his face, one half of the lenses completely fogged up. It prompts him to laugh too.
“Was I okay?”
This time she doesn't hold back her smile at the way he asks it. As if she hadn't just shaken with the force of her high all over his face.
She nods, “More than okay.”
He seems genuinely relieved.
She bites her lip as she looks at him, his cheeks all tinged pink, his mind reeling at what they'd just done.
He doesn't know what to say or do, and she can see it.
“Do you fancy having a girlfriend, Michael?” she asks.
“Uh…I've never had one, not properly anyway.”
“Yes, but would you like one?”
She watches the bob of his Adam's Apple as he swallows heavily, “Y-yeah…”
She pushes herself up to meet him where he's knelt, admiring his features for a moment, before leaning forward to kiss him, encouraging him to kiss her back. It takes a second for him to respond, but when he does, it's needy, teeth and tongues clashing as the musky taste of her is captured on him.
“Tell you what, after your exams, when you can relax, I'll be your proper girlfriend. In every way..”
His breath comes out shuddered against her lips, “what do you mean?..”
She wets her lips as she smirks, “I think you know exactly what I mean, Michael.”
She doesn't think she'll ever get tired of seeing him blushed and bothered.
And when they're both dressed, sharing awkward giggles and nervous kisses, she gives him a look with a cock of her head as he checks his wall-mounted Countdown-themed calendar.
“What you looking for?”
“My last exam is the 15th. There's exactly 12,246 minutes between now and then and all I'm going to be thinking about is whether you'll really be my girlfriend or not.”
She nearly smiles at the fact he does the maths so quickly. 8 days, 12 hours and 6 minutes until his last exam. And even though she's made it clear she wants him, he's still unsure.
She meets his gaze, unable to hide the grin off her face, “Better get studying then. You've only got 12,245 minutes left until you've got me.”
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The 4 times Jessie realized she loved you, and the 1 time she did something about it
j.fleming x reader
w/c: 1400
a/n: really fluffy, hope you enjoy xx
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1.) Innocent touches
In the quaint town where you and Jessie Fleming spent your formative years, movie nights were a cherished tradition. The sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the living room bathed in the soft glow of lamplight. The air was filled with the familiar scent of buttered popcorn, and laughter echoed as the both of you settled onto the plush couch, your eyes fixed on the flickering screen.
As you reached over to grab the popcorn bowl, your fingers brushed in a seemingly innocent gesture. "Oops, sorry," you chuckled, not noticing the subtle change in Jessie's demeanor. For Jessie, time seemed to pause in that fleeting moment. A gentle spark ignited within her chest, a sensation she struggled to comprehend. Lost in the movie, you remained blissfully unaware of the subtle shift
Jessie stole glances at her best friend, trying to decipher the warmth lingering in her chest. It was a momentary touch, but in that instance, Jessie felt the boundaries of your friendship expanding into uncharted territory. As the characters on the screen continued their antics, Jessie's mind was elsewhere, grappling with the newfound awareness. Could a simple touch hold the potential to redefine a relationship? She pondered the question, her thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty and curiosity.
The characters on the screen continued your antics, but Jessie's mind was elsewhere, grappling with the newfound awareness. Could a simple touch hold the potential to redefine a relationship? She pondered the question, her thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty and curiosity.
As the credits rolled, signaling the end of the movie, Jessie found herself lost in contemplation. The room, once filled with laughter and shared moments, now seemed to pulse with unspoken tension. It was a tension that Jessie wasn't sure she was ready to unravel, yet it lingered like a delicate thread, connecting her to a reality she hadn't fully explored.
2. The Shared Secret:
Under the watchful gaze of the moon, Jessie and you often found themselves immersed in late-night conversations. The symphony of crickets serenaded them as you confided a hidden passion. Jessie listened intently, not just to the secret itself but to the vulnerability in you's voice.
"That's amazing, you," Jessie responded with genuine enthusiasm. "I had no idea you felt that way."
you chuckled, a hint of self-consciousness coloring her cheeks. "Yeah, it's something I've kept to myself for a while."
As Jessie absorbed the weight of you's revelation, she realized the depth of the connection they shared. The trust and vulnerability exchanged under the moonlight created a bridge between them, revealing layers of each other's souls that went beyond the ordinary. It was in that moment that Jessie recognized her feelings for you were evolving into something deeper.
your conversation meandered into the late hours, topics shifting seamlessly between dreams, aspirations, and shared confidences. The night air held a certain magic, and Jessie couldn't help but wonder if this newfound intimacy was a prelude to a deeper connection.
As dawn approached, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, Jessie felt a mixture of exhilaration and trepidation. The shared secret had opened a door to unexplored territories, and she found herself standing at the threshold, contemplating the path that lay ahead.
3. The Comfort in Silence:
By the riverbank, where the flowing water created a gentle melody, Jessie and you found solace in each other's company. A lazy afternoon unfolded as they lay side by side, the sun casting a warm glow on your surroundings. The rhythmic sound of the river seemed to synchronize with the beating of your hearts.
"You know," you broke the silence, "these moments with you are some of my favorites."
Jessie smiled, her heart echoing the sentiment. "Mine too, you. It's like we have our own little world here."
In the tranquil intimacy of that moment, Jessie acknowledged the emotions she had been harboring. The unspoken language of your companionship revealed a longing that hinted at something more profound than mere friendship.
As you continued to bask in the serene atmosphere, Jessie couldn't help but feel a gentle tug at the strings of her heart. The shared silence spoke volumes, and she wondered if you sensed the same undercurrents that were reshaping your connection.
The rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds became the soundtrack to your contemplation. Jessie's mind, now a canvas of introspection, painted scenarios of shared futures and unexplored emotions.
4. The Unspoken Jealousy:
An unexpected wave of jealousy crashed over Jessie one day as she observed you engrossed in conversation with a new teamate. Trying to conceal her emotions, Jessie walked home with you, a subtle turmoil stirring within her. you, ever perceptive, noticed the change in her demeanor.
"Jess, is everything okay?" you asked, concern etched on her face.
Jessie hesitated before responding, "Yeah, just had a weird day."
you studied her for a moment, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"
The unspoken words lingered in the air, and Jessie, with a heavy heart, nodded in response. It was a moment of acknowledgment, a recognition that your relationship was evolving, and Jessie was beginning to grapple with emotions she had yet to fully understand.
As days turned into weeks, Jessie found herself navigating the intricacies of her own emotions. The unfamiliar pang of jealousy had unveiled a side of her feelings she hadn't anticipated. She questioned whether this emotional turbulence was merely a passing storm or a harbinger of deeper revelations.
The town, with its familiar streets and comforting routines, seemed different to Jessie now. Every interaction with you carried an undercurrent of unspoken tension, an uncharted territory that both fascinated and frightened her.
5. The Subtle Glances:
Subtle glances had woven an intricate language between Jessie and you. Across the bustling school courtyard or during family gatherings, your eyes would meet, linger, and then avert. Each stolen glance became a silent confession that spoke volumes.
One afternoon, as you sat on the porch, Jessie couldn't help but catch your eye. "What?" you teased, a playful grin on your face.
"Nothing," Jessie replied, her cheeks flushing. "Just... I don't know. Us, I guess."
you raised an eyebrow, a curious smile playing on her lips. "What about us?"
Jessie hesitated before admitting, "There's something about the way we look at each other. It's different, i just don't know why."
Your expression softened, and for a moment, your eyes locked in a silent understanding. It was a realization that they were navigating uncharted waters, and the unspoken language of stolen glances was steering them toward something profound.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the porch, Jessie and you remained in your silent reverie. The weight of unspoken words hung in the air, an invisible bridge that connected your hearts in ways words couldn't express.
You leaned in closer and kissed Jessie's lips, embracing the feeling of her body pressed against you as the tension between you both heightened. Her breath came in quick and shallow breaths as you held her close, your hands caressing her skin and your fingers digging into her arms as your lips embraced. You felt her heart race against yours as the heat of your passion overtook you both. With the sun setting below the horizon, you remained in a silent reverie together as the unspoken words hung heavy in the air, connecting your hearts.
With the unspoken words finally broken and the tension finally let loose, you found yourself carried away in a flood of feeling. Jessie's body pressed up against you as your lips embraced in a heated kiss. Her breath came in quick and shallow breaths, her fingers digging into your arms as she embraced you. You could feel her heart racing against yours, the heat of your passion overtaking you both.
As your lips parted and your bodies separated, you both breathed a shaky breath, trying to catch your breath as you processed the wild moments that had just passed. and as you locked eyes, a shared smile broke across both your faces. It was a moment of realization, a turning point in the silent dance that had been unfolding for so long. With the weight of unspoken feelings finally acknowledged, you both leaned into each other, foreheads touching in a silent promise of more moments yet to be shared.
#woso#woso community#woso fanfics#woso blurbs#woso fluff#woso one shot#jessie fleming x reader#woso x reader#jessie fleming#chelsea women#jessie fleming imagine
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Yknow what’s great about the Asmodean crystal? I think we have got it wrong. It’s not Stolas whose “love” is setting Blitzø free from the Full Moon Deal. It’s Fizzarolli’s love and gratitude.
I was saying to myself “wow fizz really holds the key to everything” the troubled past, complex about self worth, self hate, need to keep family around, and his soft side— and, yeah, canon:
He pirouettes him and Blitz stares at him with love in his eyes, then he shows us the key with the keychain on it. Established to be the thing he loves the most, horses. And this is what they used to play with, and used to live with, keeping horses as part of the act. The symbol freedom is frequently horses.
The golden colour behind the keychain is kinda interesting too.
Considering:
Blitz used his skill and his kind side to protect Fizz, keep him safe, apologise to him, and selflessly helped to reunite him with Asmodeus and says he’s happy for his relationship, despite the fact he himself is very much still in love with Fizz. Those two saved each other, not the royalty who the audience gave a lot of undue credit. Fizz without knowing anything behind why he needs the crystal, believes that through all his kind actions, and his remorse, that Blitz earned it, and gives him the chance to be free of the shackles Stolas put on him. Ozzie wouldn’t even give Blitz the crystal until Fizz gave him the ok. So its not just a gift from Asmodeus to Stolas to Blitzø it’s a gift from Fizz to Blitzø with the two royal demons as a go between. And B might never know that Fizz was at the heart of the decision.
Like im 100% serious when I say if Blitz hadn’t met Fizz that day, he might never be free of Stolas’ contract of transactional sex. A performance with no ending.
If Fizz or any of the events of Oops arent mentioned even once it would be a massive waste of this character work.
Viewing the timeline: fizz was there all those years ago at the circus when stolas saw him, blitz did a double take when he heard stolas mention the value of “my first ever friend”, he was there at Ozzies and was the catalyst for both the fallout and the strength blitz needed to stand up to stolas, he was the one who has given him the ability to finally leave the abusive relationship. Even if stolas won’t allow him, or forces him to stay. it still happened. It’s as if he’s been present or mentioned at every single key moment in that relationship. If you can call it that.
And you guys wonder why I love the blitzfizz ship! Lot of narrative importance
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pixels [newt x reader - modern text au]
ch. 4 - agoraphobia and burger king on 5th street
summary: a personal experience provides a way for newt to connect to y/n.
warnings: strong language, mental health talk, depression, medication (its my literal prescription i mention oops this is like a self insert fr), mutual pining, none really.
➥ m.list
--
THE GLADE
[ 10:52 am ]
y/n: it’s official yall
drugs saved my life
tommy: huh??
minho: same
newt: wow, i’ve never seen your name on my screen before 12 pm
y/n: shut the hell up bitch
newt: ouch, touchy
minho: woah
touchy 👀
are yallll..?
y/n: you’re sick
tommy: are we going to ignore the drugs statement??
like hello are u ok ??
newt: you’re annoying minho
minho: yea <3 😊
notice how they didn’t say no
y/n: you guys just don’t understand how a girl like me needs beauty sleep..
and no we aren’t
gally: all that beauty sleep and ur still walking around with that mug.. yikes.
y/n: 😑
i hate you i haete you i dhateoyifu
minho: great she’s having a fit
y/n: no one cares about me
and you think i’m ugly
this is so sick
and you don’t even care that i’m on drugs
☹️😭😭😭😭 done.
newt: no one said that love
gally that was rude
minho: BRUHHHHH
here she goes
tommy: I CAREE????????
DO I NEED TO COMEGET YOU????
y/n: yes 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
before i do something crazy 😭😭💣
minho: THE BOMB IS WILD
tommy: stay where you are
i have your location
newt: uhhh
y/n: pause what
minho: tommy why would you admit to that
tommy: im On my way! what’s the issue
sorry autocorrect
y/n: WHY DO YOU HAVE MY LOCATION????
gally: can you guys shut the fuck up
minho: the drama queen is here 😍
gally: stop
alby: I have it on Life360, I imagine Thomas does as well. In fact I have all of your locations.
y/n: oh
i forgot about that app..
minho: i didn’t. i get a notif that newt’s phone is at 5% all the goddamn time
even tho he said he deleted it
newt: just turn it off then
i redownloaded it don't track my app intake
minho: no it makes me feel less lonely
y/n: awwwww
idk how you do that newt
newt: do what?
y/n: not charge your phone
if my phone gets below like 15% then the monsters will get me
tommy: omg me tooo 🥹
newt: i was about to say you sound like tommy.
tommy: don’t say that!
she’s on drugs i don’t want to sound like an addict 😔
newt: she isn’t on drugs thomas
tommy: she literally said she is newt :/
5 mins and i’m there y/n
y/n: are you actually fr
thomas..
we live very far away sweetie
newt: i mean
if you were in trouble you don’t think we’d come get you?
tommy: ^^
but life360 says you’re at the burger king on 5th
minho: no that’s me LOOOL
y/n: NEWTTT ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️
tommy: wtf
i’m the one who’s coming to get u
why does he get the credit
minho: no tommy you’re coming to get me
tommy: oh yippee i get to see my friend 🤗
newt: ewwwwww
y/n: EWWWWW
tommy: OH STOP IT
y/n: why burger king of all places min
minho: why drugs of all things y/n
gally: she’s not doing drugs are you guys fuckin insane
y/n: yes i am
it’s 10 mg of fluoxetine 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
ONCE A DAY!!!!!!
IM ADDICTED
newt: no you aren’t, 10 mg is the smallest dose
minho: told y’all she was on drugs
y/n: ???????
minho: over the year
you’re too hyper to not be on some crack shit
tommy: oh stop that’s not nice.
newt: it’s not drugs like that minho stop.
tommy: uhoh he brought out the . at the end
y/n: it’s just for anxiety cuz i can’t leave the house without going into a breakdown
minho: she got acrophobia
told y’all she was mental
newt: what the fuck are you talking about
tommy: oh i know that word
fear of spiders 🕷️
minho: wtf no
fear of outside
y/n: i’m not afraid of outside
newt: that’s agoraphobia you fucking dumbass
y/n: 😍
i did NOT mean to send that lol oops
newt: ??
oh, okay
minho: when he’s a know it all 😍
when she’s agoraphobic 😍
y/n: when he’s at burger king on 5th because he has no food in his fridge and can only afford a $1.99 whopper with the coupons from the newspaper 😍😍😍😍
minho: 😒😑
newt: LMFAOOOO
GOOD THAT
minho: british people be so annoying
saying shit like gormless minger and good that be sooo real rn
newt: i have never said gormless minger in my whole 26 years of life.
y/n: you just did bro
newt: call me bro again
y/n: bro
brosive
brother
stepbro
minho: laughed until i saw the last msg :/
newt: 😑
y/n: ok youre the perverts
minho: cant you take your prozac and turn back to normal now
y/n: so you DO know what it is..
gally: wym 'back to normal' like there was smth before this??
y/n: real i been like this for life
tommy: i got whopper and two large fries and mozzarella sticks
newt: wow
y/n: wow just call him a fatass newt.
newt: i would never, stop
y/n: 2 large fries is kinda crazy tho
tommy: i have to get enough to share with my friend
minho
gally: surprised you have friends
tommy: yeah you are not one.
gally: RUDE?
y/n: WELL LMFAO
minho: i literally already ate also gally ur not my friend either
newt: same
alby: same
gally: well why tf am i in here
y/n: well you're my friend!
gally: great.
y/n: not with that attitude..
tommy: y/n you're ok though right??
y/n: yes tommy im fine sweetie
go eat your food
tommy: okay i wish you could share these fries with me
y/n: me too :(
minho: i don't
big back would eat em all
y/n: i actually hate you
__
newt
[ 11:45 am ]
newt: hey
y/n: hiii :D whats up??
newt: idk why but this feels like secretly texting you across the room at a party
y/n: actually tho
picture me giving u a look from across the room
newt: you would blow our cover immediately
i just wanted to let you know if you needed any like,, advice or something with your new medicine i'm here for you. i take the same stuff on top of lexapro
y/n: oh really?
newt: yeah i do
y/n: newt :( thank you
i am a bit nervous to start it tbh
newt: i understand, i was too
but hopefully it'll change things for the better
y/n: i hope so
i didn't realize you dealt with anxiety n stuff
newt: more than you know
you aren't the only one and you aren't alone w it
y/n: you're sweet newt, thank you
newt: don't mention it :))
sorry the smiley was creepy
y/n: lmao no i like it
if you need to talk or anything too i’m always here
newt: yeah?
y/n: of course ): you’re my pookie
newt: one day you gotta let go of that word lmao
y/n: but you love it tho
newt: you tell yourself that
actually are you free rn?
y/n: yeah! i’m just about home what’s up?
newt: i’m bored so pick up the phone
y/n: NEWT LMAO
ok fine 😒
#the maze runner#the maze runner fanfic#tmr#tmr newt#newt x reader#newt imagine#the maze runner newt x reader#the maze runner newt imagine#the maze runner newt#thomas brodie sangster#thomas brodie-sangster#thomas brodie sangster x reader#dylan o'brien#reader insert#text au#modern au#newt x reader au#fanfic#the maze runner imagine#newt tmr#thomas brodie-sangter x reader#hi#idk#reader is funny#tbs#tbs x reader#tbs imagine#thomas the maze runner
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HAND THREE - TWO PAIR
summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas. in this hand, a date is had.
wc: 2.5k
cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader, some swearing, banter and dialogue driven, fake dating, pining and tension, todoroki enji jumpscare LOL
note: the two wolves living inside me is one wanting to rush the hell out of slow burn and the other telling me to make it painfully slow. however, i broke a little and made the pining a little obvious in this chapter oops. one day i will achieve the emotional release of s2 bridgerton bee sting scene. hope you enjoy !!!!
likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3
“Show.”
“You first.”
“I’m royalty.”
“And I have the higher stack. Now, show,” you repeat and he scoffs, the corner of his mouth tugging upward and creasing the deep purple scars on his cheek. He turns his two cards face-up and, sure enough, you’d snatched another victory from the self-proclaimed Prince of Calculation. “I win again,” you smile and he begrudgingly pushes the pot to your side of the table, an amalgamation of garden pebbles, stray buttons, and a few gold coins you managed to produce. You were using whatever you had to gamble and the prince didn’t seem to mind. Touya, you remind yourself. You were supposed to call him by his first name throughout this whole charade, but it seemed as foreign on your tongue as a protruding third set of teeth.
“You’re a much more dangerous woman than you give yourself credit for,” he muses with a clever glint in his eyes. Over the course of the last month or so, you’d accumulated an immunity to his unwavering stares and scalding eyes; lately, it actually seemed you found a certain affinity for his intense nature, even when you were its only target. His sweetly poisonous words were the latest test to your composure. “If we dressed you as a man for the night, we could relieve an entire club of their purses before the clock strikes ten.” His pretty fingers dealt another two cards and you peeked at them from the bottom of your vision. Queen of hearts and two of clubs. Not the best hand.
“Hmm. How much of the pot would you use to bail me out for invading said club?” You lay out the first three cards, the flop, and flip the first over before betting a conservative amount. Four of diamonds.
“Who ever said anything about bail? I’d just sneak you out. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time,” he answers, calling your bet, and you can’t tell if he’s kidding. It was another piece you were still trying to solve of the puzzle that was the prince of the Todoroki family, how he joked so casually about breaking laws and dodging authority. The nonchalance of his recklessness made your stomach turn, sometimes, but you couldn’t tell if it was from fear or intrigue. You flip the second card of the flop. Two of hearts. A pair, if all else failed. You just had to hope he didn’t have anything either.
“For a royal, you seem to know a concerning amount about rule breaking. Do you have any intent to corrupt me?”
“By the end of our courtship, possibly.” Jack of diamonds. Not what you were hoping for as the third card, by any means. A flash of excitement lights up behind your opponent’s eyes, too purposeful to be genuine. You mentally added his poker tells to the never-ending list of things to figure out about him, right under the number of crimes he’s committed against the government. Tossing in a few medium-value flower petals, you’re unsurprised when he matches your bet again.
“Our courtship which, I’ll remind you, is causing quite the stir in the ton,” you point out while revealing the turn. Seven of hearts. You try not to let your disappointment in your current hand show on your face. The prince, you notice, looks like he’s trying a little too hard to contain his excitement. “You know, I suspect they might be rooting for us.”
“That’d be a new experience for me. Never received too much support in my endeavors before.” He places a high bet and you have no choice but to match it. If you were right about him lying, you would learn something new about his poker strategy; but, if you were wrong, you wouldn’t hear the end of it for the rest of the day. You flip the river and your heart stutters. Two of diamonds. You’re careful with your next bet, knowing that three of a kind wasn’t the best or worst hand you could create. The prince, however, pushes his entire hoard into the pot with a challenge in his eyes. He was trying to force you to fold.
You match the bet and reveal your hand.
Two pair versus three of a kind. The prince was bluffing, and you won again.
“At least this time, you’re not alone.” The admission is obvious but still catches both of you off-guard when you say it. You’re about to apologize for being too sentimental when that unreadable look passes over his face again, sudden as a lightning strike and gone just as quickly.
“I guess you’re right,” he murmurs, relinquishing the remaining pot of knick-knacks to you. “Though I will say, having my ass handed to me in a card game was not a part of my plan.”
“A woman with intellect is never part of a man’s plan, yet she prevails all the same,” you conclude and he hums in agreement, collecting the remaining cards and slotting them back into their box. A concerning thought occurs to you and you glance around the secluded palace courtyard with new-found suspicion. His eyes follow your own, watching you keenly in a way that was both comforting and unsettling.
“What is it?”
“Will the servants not whisper about a woman playing a man’s game?”
“They will whisper that you won, and that is what matters,” he states like a well-known fact. “Why? Is something bothering you about them?”
“No, I’m just mulling over this whole arrangement again.” You wave him off dismissively and take another sip of lemonade from your teacup. A drink which, when you’d finally agreed to meet the prince at the palace for a day, he ordered presumably because you both shared a distaste for tea. “How odd it is and how people gossip so.”
“A lady beating the prince at poker is hardly a scandal compared to what transpired last week,” he recalls with terribly-hidden amusement, breaking off a piece of scone and smearing a glob of berry preserves onto it. “Wouldn’t you agree?” Your cheeks heat when you think of the memory and you snap your fan open to cool yourself and hide your burning face. It certainly wasn’t your proudest moment, to say the least.
“Would you like me to retrieve a stick to keep your competition at bay?” You had jokingly asked, following his distracted gaze. It was your third ball of the season and your third public appearance with the prince; both you and your co-conspirator were forced to acknowledge the increasing number of interested suitors trying to pry you away. Dances, you found, were one of the few moments where other men weren’t climbing over each other for your attention. The only problem was being forced to share breathing space with him for an extended period of time. “Your Highness, why are you glaring like that?”
“I said to stop calling me that, and I’m not glaring,” he mumbled, very obviously glaring and avoiding your eyes. His hand stiffens around your waist, making your already-awkward distance from him more uncomfortable. It didn’t take long to notice that he was a fine dancer when he was with any other partner but you, and you figured it was because being in such close proximity was not part of your agreement. You raise a skeptical eyebrow, finally making him look at you when the silence indicates your displeasure. “Pay me no mind. I am only–”
“Moping like a kicked dog, that’s what you’re doing,” you interject and, in a blink, you’re back in another standoff with his intense stare.
“I don’t recall when you gained the right to comment on my behaviors so crassly.” Your eyebrows pinch, taken aback by his sudden hostility. His eyes were always burning, like embers in a fireplace, and it felt like the longer you looked at them, the less likely you’d be able to pull away. After a few moments of staring him down, you back off with a frustrated huff. You think you feel some of the tension leave him, too.
“If we are to keep up this ruse in a believable manner, I suggest you confide in me from time to time, especially if it causes you to act in unfavorable ways,” you state simply, your irritation obvious.
“You know nothing of my unfavorable ways.” The venom in his voice makes your heart sink, against your own judgment. His expression doesn’t soften, but his voice does. “Trust me. It’s not your burden to bear,” he says in a low tone and goosebumps spread across your arms, despite the fabric of your gloves and the sleeves of your dress. He meets your eyes and you could have sworn his gaze flickers to the neckline of your gown, but the action, like so many of his movements, is too quick to comment on. “So, let’s keep to our sides of the street, shall we?”
“You’re insufferable,” you hiss, letting your politely smiling face slip as the strings conclude the dance. “Enjoy the rest of the evening. I feel a bit faint.” The muscles in his jaw clenches and you turn on your heel to beeline for an exit when a strong hand grabs you by the wrist and pulls you backward. Before you can register where you’re moving, your hand is placed firmly on his forearm and you’re a split-second from slapping him when–
“Touya.” Shit. With a blank mind, you remember to curtsy from pure muscle memory, dipping deeply toward the ground while the prince bends at the waist.
“Good evening, Father.” Touya’s voice becomes empty, devoid of all sarcasm, teasing, and charm. A glance at his face tells the same tale, blank and emotionless. The only indication of his true thoughts came the slight shake in his arm and how he unconsciously tugged you closer and closer to his side. You let yourself be pulled in and your free hand moved on its own, coming to rest on top of his and running your thumb over his knuckles. He exhales shakily. “Father, this is–”
“I know who you are,” he says before you could be properly introduced, making your nostrils flare. The man besides you bristles and you wonder how such a hard-faced, stoic man could make such a reckless and carefree son. You’d never seen King Todoroki except in victory parades and newsprints of his alliance with King All Might, but you could recognize the family’s flaming eyes from miles away. You decided that, no matter how irritating the prince was, his father was lower on your ranking of the Todoroki royals. “Should you marry, are you aware of the responsibility of being the wife of a king?”
“I believe she is called a queen, Your Majesty,” you hear yourself say before you can stop yourself. From beside you, the prince makes a noise somewhere between a choke and a snort, and you direct your attention to the floorboards in hopes of surviving the king’s scathing reply. Despite the chatter of the party around you, it feels like your words were echoing off the gilded ceilings. The reprimand, however, never comes. The king turns back to his son with a look of suppressed wrath before turning and stalking away, a crowd of nobles crowing for his attention.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” he whispers in disbelief as he hurriedly guides you out of the hall and into one of the manor’s gardens, still within sight of nosy mothers but out of their earshot. Your hand hasn’t left his arm, nor has he tried to pry it off. If anything, you click into his side like a missing puzzle piece, and you’re confusingly reluctant to let go. “That was the worst possible way you could have answered that question,” the prince continues and your stomach turns.
“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” you reply with poorly masked shame, lowering your head and letting him walk ahead. Your hand detaches from his arm and you’re struck by the sudden lack of warmth. He turns sharply to look at you, looks back at his empty arm, and then back at you before closing the few feet between you. His eyes were burning into you again but he said nothing, watching you watch the blades of grass surrounding your shoes. Your voice is as quiet as the swaying summer wind. “If I have jeopardized our plan, I understand if you–”
“Stop,” he commands, and it takes a moment to register his gloved fingers under your chin, gently but firmly tilting your head to look at him. Your eyes trace the jagged lines of where his skin meets his scars and the world around you quiets. “I am…the opposite of angry with your actions.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not an easy task, talking back to my father. Yet, you performed it as easily as breathing,” he explains with a soft awe in his expression that made your breath catch in your chest.
“I guess I’ve had good practice, countering your arguments for the better half of the summer,” you agree hesitantly. What the hell was this feeling? For whatever reason, the world around you temporarily faded to static noise and blurred paintings, with the only decipherable images being the man in front of you. “So, you’re not unhappy with my behavior around your father?”
“I have never been prouder to be seen with you,” he reassures you and you finally crack a smile, his hand leaving your face and his feet stepping back to a respectful distance. “On another note, can you recall what we were arguing about before we were interrupted?”
“I can’t, unfortunately. I believe I was about to leave you alone on the dance floor to mingle with other suitors,” you joke and, though his expression remains relaxed, his eyes darken subtly.
“I wouldn’t let them so much as breathe in your direction,” he declares, your breath becoming stuck in your lungs again. “Plus, you were saying that you required a stick to fight them off.”
“I did not say I required a stick,” you counter, lightheartedly bumping your shoulder against his while you make your way back into the manor. He merely smiles, a rare, genuine smile. “Though, I would like to apologize for my brash observations.”
“You are forgiven.”
“Thank you,” you exhale, following him to the refreshments table.
“And…”
“Nevermind,” you backtrack, but he continues nonetheless.
“As reparation for insinuating that I act like an abused animal–”
“Which you do,” you retort quietly and he chuckles, shaking his head.
“Next week, you will accompany me in receiving a visiting ally prince,” he says. “As it would be dreadfully boring to do alone and you, thankfully, bruised my ego, I will be dragging you with me on his guided tour of the kingdom’s market district.”
“Must I really attend?”
“Who’s acting like the kicked dog now?” He smirks and you have no choice but to go along with his plan. Now, after several rounds of beating his royal ass in poker, it was time for you to leave and prepare for the social night between the Takami and Todoroki kingdoms.
if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
#dabi x you#dabi x reader#dabi x y/n#touya todoroki x you#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki x y/n#mha x you#mha x reader#mha x y/n#touya x you#touya x reader#touya x y/n#bnha x you#bnha x reader#bnha x y/n
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I know it wasn't intended by the writers and even from a purely in universe perspective it was likely not a conscious decision but...
It really does feel like Andre was setting Chloe up for failure.
There's obviously letting doing Sabrina most of Chloe's labor for her thing.
But we also have that whole aspect where he taught her explicitly to cheat, extort, threaten and bribe her way to victory. A strategy that works for him because he's not doing that stuff to the people he wants to vote for him, but that ends up making Chloe hated by her peers.
Similarly, there's encouraging her Audrey impersonation, which even if we ignore the creep factor. Still means he is rewarding her for engaging in damaging and anti social behavior that only serves to make her miserable and more dependent on him.
His total tolerance for Audrey's overt cruelty towards her can also feel like it feeds into this. Again I don't think he is necessarily aware of or planning it, but this still serves to, A, not make Audrey upset with him, and B, mean he remains Chloe's primary source of affirmation and affection.
Add in him in season 1 being willing to act against her if she impacted 'him' negatively and it really does kind of feel like he, at least subconsciously, wanted Chloe to need to hang off of him forever and to generally lack other support networks or avenues of self sufficiency.
I mean, yes. There's a reason I'm very much on the 'Audrey's behavior is bad and abusive, but André's is worse' wagon.
Audrey is openly abusive to those around her, that is clear. She also wants absolutely nothing to do with kids. She removes herself from her daughters lives. She does it out of selfishness, but the net result is she she does not *make* herself a role model.
André on the other hand loves having a kid! They play great with the press. They make for awesome photo opportunities, and now and then he can play family just like in movies! What he doesn't like is *raising* a kid. He himself is horrible an self centered, so he doesn't think that maybe he needs to change his behaviors for the child, so he passes all of his Andreness on to them.
I know guys who were pretty useless until they had a kid, I know guys who are pretty useless with anything that *isn't their kid, but both groups still realize that *parenting* is something you have to do right, something worth changing or at least concealing your worst-self behaviors from. André can't even go that far.
André goes past 'oops haha silly me' or 'overworked parent' tropes too. The man is filthy rich. He could *make* time for his daughter if he wanted to. He also fails so completely on the very basics of parenting when *he has the resources to get help*. It shows he hasn't even really tried.
Well, he tries like a 4yr old tries when they don't want to do something. One half-hearted attempt, then they whine.
How do we have obvious proof, canonically, that this is on André? Look at Zoé. She had as much if not more contact with Audrey, and we are not giving her credit for being a *good* influence, are we? So then it comes down to the influence of the other parent, and what differences does canon show us there? Hmmm.
Look like André is a net negative in a child's life.
Oh and miss me anyone who claims children are just 'bad seeds'. That line of thinking can go jump in a wood chipper.
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It Was Always You
Spencer Reid x Female!Reader (not explicitly AFAB…I don’t think…)
Established Relationship
Warnings: mentions of Lila Archer (Amber Heard by extension), but it’s in a negative light basically, also kinda anti-JJ? For plot convenience? Just a bit? But does it makes any sense? Maybe not Oops. Derek is mentioned possibly being his typical jerky teasing self. Also mentions of S1 Spencer being a bit of a creep technically (ooc? Maybe I dunno) but S5 Spencer is remorseful about it at least
WC: 506
Summary: Spencer is concerned being back in LA with the same detective as a case from years ago might bring up some memories for her…but some memories end up coming back for him instead (that’s…not what it sounds like lol I swear. Spencer feels nothing for Lila this is fluff not angst)
Eps: 1x18, 5x7
GIF credit: onscreenkisses
GIF credit: criminalmindscaps
🤷🏻♀️ it’s from the ep, it’s good enough
(Also neither gif was made by me I just found them)
“Does it uh…bother you? Being here? With…with the same detective as…that time?” Spencer asked you as you sat next to each other at the table in the area of the precinct that was set up for the BAU.
You glanced up at him.
“No. Why would it?”
“Well you…um…got quite upset last time…”
“I had no right to be upset.”
“Yes you did.” Spencer shot back.
“No. I didn’t. It’s not like you were cheating on me. We didn’t get together until after.” You shot right back at him.
“But if you hadn’t gotten upset and I hadn’t gotten concerned…we might not have gotten together.”
“That’s one way to think about it, I suppose.”
“Did it bother you that JJ brought it up?”
“Why would it?”
“She didn’t need to bring up that the detective was the same as the stalker case.”
“She was merely saying there was some familiarity.” You shrugged.
“No. She wasn’t.” There was a bit of a bite to his words.
“She wasn’t? What was she doing then?”
“Being antagonistic.”
“No. She wasn’t.” You shook your head.
“Yes she was. She knew what she was doing. You were in the bathroom and she asked me if I’d ever called Lila. It was completely inappropriate when she’d known we were together since a week after the case wrapped up. I mean why the hell would I call her when I’m in a relationship with you? And it’s not like she called me when she was in DC. She never really cared about me. I was just some…novelty toy to her.” He grimaced. “But you know I uh I never really cared if she called me or saw me again or not. I only cared about you…when she kissed me…I wished it was you. I know I told you that at the time but…it’s still true. And I told you this at the time too but I feel the need to reiterate it: I do not prefer her over you. You are the only girl that I have ever wanted to be with.”
“I know that, hon.” You reassured him as you placed a hand on his arm.
“And if Morgan says anything, I swear I’m gonna…” he trails off.
“What?” You ask, curious.
“Be very cross with him. Especially if he mentions bikinis.”
“She was in a tv show that took place on a beach, if I remember correctly…was it not appropriate for her to wear a bikini?” You questioned, slightly confused.
“I saw her in one and Morgan made fun of my blush but…I wasn’t exactly looking at her…I was imagining what you’d look like in a bikini.”
You chuckle. “What? Really?”
“Yeah. The more I talk about this, the more pathetic I sound…” Spencer turns away from you slightly, trying to hide his shame.
“No, no…well…maybe a little but it’s ok.”
“No it’s not ok. God I feel like such a creep.”
“Ok so yeah imagining another woman while you look at and kiss a woman is…kinda…two layers of…questionable…”
He groaned.
#Criminal Minds#Spencer Reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fic
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Dofus Movie novel small differences
The book is really close retelling of the movie there is only a few small differences !
A lot them is just the dialogue being slightly different. Some others are per example like the fact that Joris in the novel want to gift Khan a gobball instead of wanting one to be signed.. but there is a bit of new dialogues added to expand on a few scenes of the movie !
There's not a lot but I still think it's fun to share the most notable ones of them ! (And there's a really good chance I missed some after reading this book too much time).
I translated six of them (it's really not much) but I added some other things said in the the novel :)
(Small disclaimer, I translated all of this by myself so there's a good chance there's grammar errors)
I took screenshot of the translated text because it was easier to manage because I don't understand tumblr formatting ( I added ALT text to all of them in any case)
(The highlighted text is the part that I translated)
Some Joris thoughts about not knowing his parents (and Kerubim telling him absolutely nothing)
Small fun added dialogue when Dardonkal ask Joris to be his guardian :)
The Bonta's gobbowl mascot belonged to Jahash !
This next one is pretty interesting ! I think it's the biggest change in the book.
This scene does play in the movie but differently !
The first two sentences are the same but after Bakara says "This madness needs stop", in the movie Joris talks and all of this leads to the flashback narrated by Julith.
Here Bakara continue to speak and her next lines in this are said by Joris in the movie (while he doesn't say the exact same words, what he says his nearly the same things in the end). So the flashback does not happen.
After that Julith respond to Bakara (instead of Joris in the movie) and because of that her dialogue slightly differs. Bakara respond and after that the scene come back to the way it is the movie with some small modifications because of this change.
To put it simply Bakara took the role of Joris in this part. (You can compare it directly to the movie if my explanations doesn't make sense).
Now for the flashback ! It still appear in the novel but is instead played just after Julith slams the Ebony Dofus on the Ivory one. With Julith remembering and narrating the memory while she disappears. (and in the memory, it's said the Dofus went even more wild after the bontarian guards attacked it's guardian Julith and injured her. oops)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Joris nearly has moment of self-doubt when there's only Lilotte and him left during the final match
And... this one....at the end (sorry)
Anyway here's some other random things from the novel:
The statue of Jahash and the ceremony that takes place at the start is where the Dofus went wild 10 years ago, where it created a massive hole in the city. While not mentionned in the movie this information is also in the artbook
The area Kerubim and Joris lives is called "Le quartier de la Tour Fleurie" (The blooming flower tower district)
The tavern Bakara and Kerubim meet in the movie is called "Le Bontarien Rieur" (The Laughing Bontarian)
Kerubim thinks that the stealing of the Ebony Dofus is a ten (out of ten) on the Ogrest scale... a few hundred years before Ogrest birth...(oops)
During the first battle Bakara yell "For Jahash" instead of "For Bonta"
Bakara and Khan.. whole thing.. is less embarrassing than in the movie...
The post credit scene is not in novel
#dofus#wakfu#krosmoz#joris jurgen#julith#kerubim crepin#bakara jurgen#atcham crepin#khan karkass#if i remember other things from the novel i will add them later on :)#Writing this post took me way longer than translating everything 😭
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Tease (Fives X Fem!Reader)
You're a student at Coruscant U. The boys of the 501st are guest speakers for a class on galactic politics. But one particular ARC trooper gets more than he bargains for when he starts checking you out...
My first time attempting anything close to smut, hope y'all enjoy! Lmk if it's good enough that you'd want a continuation ;)
This also may be partially inspired by a dream i had oops
Words: 1.9k
Warnings: eye-fucking, teasing, showing off, making out, hints of both dom reader and dom Fives, suggestive ending
Rating: 18+ (minors DNI please)
Credit for the Fives divider to @freesia-writes with helmet art by @lornaka !
You have to stifle a yawn as you settle into your desk, stretching out heavy limbs. Your last lecture after a long day of classes. Galactic Relations and Conflict wasn’t really relevant to your major- you’d picked the elective on a whim, but it had proven to be your most interesting class this semester by far. Today promised to be no different: your lecturer had pulled some strings and arranged for some pretty interesting guest speakers.
You hear them before you see them: boisterous laughter echoing down the hallways. Then, the boys in blue file through the door. The one in front corrals the others into order as they come to stand at attention at the back of the hall. Five in total- two ARC troopers, two lieutenants and their Commanding Officer. Armour proudly polished where it isn’t scuffed or dented, painted helmets slung under their arms. Two things hit you in quick succession as your eyes cross the five identical faces. One: these clones are nothing like the carbon copies you’ve seen on your holoscreen. As alike as they look under their haircuts and tattoos, they’re individuals, plain as day, from how they style themselves to the way they stand and speak. Two: one of them is looking your way.
There’s a cool confidence in his demeanour, an effortless assurance to his movements, and he’s not at all embarrassed to be caught looking: though he’s still in conversation with the others, his eyes don’t waver from yours for a moment. It gives you ample time to take in the view, and what a view it is. The angle of his brow highlights the tattoo at his temple, and from there you follow the sharp cut of his jaw down to the well-kept goatee at his chin, up to the inviting curve of his mouth. Solid, square shoulders shift when he laughs at something another clone says. There’s a stray curl falling over his forehead you want to tangle in your fingers. You fight the urge to bite your lip as your eyes venture lower, sweeping down a broad, thick chest to his deliberately cocked hip. You force yourself to look away. Can’t be caught ogling the trooper, like the self-proclaimed “bucket fuckers” you see on your social media feed, lining up at 79s every weekend. You’re not that desperate. Subconsciously, though, you realise you’ve straightened in your seat, pulled your shoulders back. You’re even toying with your hair.
You cringe internally, chastising yourself for looking so eager. Calm down, you think, it probably doesn’t even mean anything that he’s looking. The lecture isn’t due to start for another ten minutes, and among the smattering of early students, you’re the only one in the front row. He’s just getting a look at his audience. But when you chance another look up at the ARC trooper, you find his gaze still locked onto you, even as the clone beside him continues to speak. Cockiness is a trait you usually find irritating. But much to your dismay, instead of scoffing when he arches his brow and quirks his mouth in your direction, you feel your pulse quicken and your skin heat.
He winks, and your mind is made up in an instant, caution thrown to the wind. It’s been too long since you’ve taken a break from your studies and had this kind of fun. If he wants to play the game, you’ll play. And you’re not going down without a fight.
You bring your eyes back down to your desk and pretend to be deeply focused on laying out your datapad for taking notes. Hot as blaster fire, his gaze still burns on you, but you refuse to give in. You’re no stranger to this dance, and you’ve gotten pretty good at it, even if you do say so yourself. Your lecturer enters soon after and begins the talk, introducing your guests. You get your first taste of the ARC trooper’s deep, gravelly voice when he steps forward in turn, as well as his name. Fives. It loops in your mind as you wrap your lips around it, trying it out. As Captain Rex takes the podium, you make your first move. Slowly, deliberately, you cross one leg over the other, and lean your elbows on your desk, shoulders pulled proudly back. The stars must have aligned for you this morning: you’d picked one of your lower cut shirts, and it frames your cleavage perfectly. A few carefully counted seconds later, you tilt your head away from the podium back to Fives.
Oh, yeah. You’ve got him.
He’s looking. He’s staring. His gaze has darkened, intensified. When his eyes roam down low and creep back up, you feel it like it’s his fingers on your skin. Your body warms under the stare, liquid heat pouring over you, pooling at the top of your thighs. Not wanting to seem too self-satisfied, you allow yourself a small, restrained smirk. A twitch of your eyebrow, just to gloat. Such a small gesture, but it lights a fire in Fives’ eyes. You’re enjoying the game, but you want to stretch it out, so you leave him hanging, and go back to listening to Captain Rex, your stylus working across your datapad, dutifully taking notes like you’d been paying attention the whole time.
You don’t let up on Fives, though. As his brothers each take their turn to answer questions from the cohort, you pull out every trick up your sleeve. Mussing your hair, adjusting your top. You swear you see his upper lip twitch into a growl when you shift your legs, gliding one foot up and down your calf. He has his arms folded now, the end of a thumb jammed into his mouth, chewing on the tip in a way that makes you hungry to replace that thumb with your lips. He makes no attempt to hide his want: he’s undressing you with his eyes, and you’re quickly getting drunk on the power. The killing blow comes when Fives has to wrench his attention from you long enough to take his turn at the stand. You can see him struggling to keep his focus on the rest of the lecture hall and away from you. At first, you feign innocence, letting up the act for a few short minutes, playing nice, giving him a reprieve. And in truth, it’s not hard to actually stop and listen to his words: he speaks with confidence, cracks a few corny but endearing jokes, and answers the audience’s questions with a thoughtfulness and insight that catches you off guard. Shit, you think, swallowing down the flutter in your chest, he might have the edge on you.
But in the end, he will get no mercy from you. The third time he gives in and glances in your direction, he finds you with your stylus poised at the corner of your mouth. Your pulse throbbing, you grind your thighs together, making a show of it. Your tongue darts out for just a moment and, soft and delicate, you press the stylus past your lips, teasing the tip. The effect is instant. Fives chokes on his last word, stifling a groan that quickly turns into a string of coughs. His eyes are blown wide, his cheeks several shades darker as he tries to regain his composure and remember what he had been saying.
You win.
You back off for the rest of the lecture, content to enjoy the feeling of his eyes on you and the playful glances you exchange from the moment he leaves the podium. He takes your little trick in stride, and even gives back what he gets, a sway in his hips as he walks back to rejoin the other clones, taking it slow to give you ample time to enjoy the view from behind. All too quickly, though, the talk ends, and so does your fun. You shoot Fives one last wink as he and his brothers leave the hall, and he fixes you with a cutting smile that’s equal parts charming and dangerous. You gather your things and leave with the other students, with full intention of returning to your apartment to take care of the ache between your legs alone. The memory of Fives’ gaze lingers on your skin, drawing an involuntary shudder.
The train home is going to be torture.
But you don’t make it to the station. You don’t even make it off campus. You’re rounding the corner away from the lecture hall when you hear him. He clears his throat, and your nerves thrill when you turn to see Fives leaning heavy against the wall, one hand propped on the inviting curve of his hip. The pathway he stands in is seldom-used, small and quiet, and the shadows from the towering buildings throw his face into shadow. His voice is pitched low when he speaks, thick and sweet, dripping like syrup.
“Quite a show you just put on,” he purrs, and the words go straight to your cunt. “What’s your name, gorgeous?” You give him your answer, careful to keep your voice in check while the rest of you quivers with anticipation. Fives repeats it, the sound rolling heavily off his tongue.
“Thought this gig was going to be boring,” he muses, “you certainly proved me wrong. Thought it would only be polite to return the favour. Show my… appreciation?”
The curling grin on your face is all the answer he needs: a thick hand on your waist pulls you into the alleyway, cold brick at your back and hot breath on your neck. You’re trapped in an instant, bracketed by his arms on either side. His lips hover an agonising inch from your skin, sparks of honey-sweet electricity dancing along your shoulders and down your spine.
His body is still angled away from yours, yet the tiny, twitching roll of his hips draws an answering thrust from you all the same. The lack of friction tears a tiny groan of frustration from your throat before you can stop it, and Fives’ chest rumbles with his answering chuckle. The end of your rope dangles so close. It would be so easy to just give in and let him win. Your defences weaken further when the warmth against your throat sharpens, searing breath giving way to the scorching wet heat of his lips at the top of your jaw. The dizzying thrill of finally feeling him against you is what gives you the strength to regain control. A firm hand at his cheek shifts his mouth away from your ear and onto your lips, kissing him hard and merciless. He moans when your fingers dip low to scratch teasingly through his goatee, and the sound sets your every nerve singing symphonies. In an instant you know you’d do anything to hear that sound again, to feel the high of him melting under your touch. With dwindling patience you reach out, grabbing at the belt of his armour and trying to pull him flush against you. He resists, breaking your kiss just barely and tutting against your lips.
“No need to rush, mesh’la,” he taunts, settling a warm, gloved hand on the swell of your hip. He’s firm but gentle, coaxing you back into the wall with just enough pressure to tease you. You recognise the Mando’a, though you can’t quite place its meaning. You find you don’t much care- not when Fives is kneading at your waist and mouthing at your collarbone.
“We’ve got plenty of time Besides…” With one fluid movement, he forces your legs apart, pressing one thick thigh between your own. It's your turn to moan, trying to shift your hips, though Fives' grip keeps you maddeningly still. ”You gave me a whole lot of grief back there. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
You swallow thickly, the shifting column of your throat catching against Fives’ teeth and making you gasp. This one might be harder to win than you thought. A devilish grin slides onto your lips.
You still won’t go down without a fight.
#fives x reader#fives x you#clone thirsting#clone thots#sw tcw fanfic#arc trooper fives#x reader#reader insert#sw tcw#drabble#fem reader#fives smut
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Welp, this turned into a @jilymicro-oops! Not that we mind those!
Prompt: Touched, March 11.
Word count: 1337
Content Warning: Negative self speech, a little angsty I guess.
The graceful swish of the A at the top of her Transfiguration essay seemed to laugh at Lily from where it lay among her many notes, scattering the library table she’d claimed for herself.
She had hoped to use the despicable grade as motivation to finish the extra credit work she had practically begged Professor McGonagall for. The professor had looked at her with concern but riffled through her desk for a moment before producing another essay for her to do. “You are under a lot of pressure. There is no need to worry about one A. Everyone misses one everyone once in a while.”
Her impulses had got the better of her then, and Lily had snapped back. “Everyone, really?” She bit her tongue before she mentioned the two people that she was certain never got a grade as pathetic as an A. Her jaw clenched to keep the flood of words from rolling off her tongue.
She was tired. Tired of always feeling like she had something to prove. Tired of the news that flashed before her eyes whenever she tried to sleep. Tired of the shudder that ran down her spine when she caught some of her fellow students looking at her with disgust. Of it happening more and more often.
She almost longed for a time when the word mudblood would phase her. Where it elicited more than just a tired sigh.
It wasn’t like it did not bother him anymore, but it no longer stung. Rather, is stuck to her like pitch. Making her feel dirty, stuck somehow. Like a bird trapped in an oil spill.
Her spiral of thoughts was interrupted by the strong gasp of her head of house. Her hands, though frail looking, were soft and capable, a surprising amount of strength still lingering in the ageing bones.
Minerva McGonagall offered her a parchment with questions for her to research and answer. The look on her face was reluctant. “Comparison is the thief of joy, Miss Evans,” she said with a warm smile she reserved for special occasions.
The words still echoed in her head, and she wished she’d had scoffed at them then. They always felt so disingenuous when there were things like class rankings to be considered. But she did not want to fight with the professor, not when the heat was already building behind her eyes, the threat of tears so much worse than seeming indignant or ungrateful.
Lily had pushed down these feelings as best she could, being snappy and short with people over dinner. The voice in the back of her head, the one that sounded an awful lot like Petunia, kept up a constant string of doubts and insults.
You’re useless. Can’t even do this right. Maybe they’re right about you, just pretending to belong.
Words that got louder and louder and louder every time she looked at the glaring A.
Worthless freak.
It was now, in the quiet of the library, that Lily finally allowed the mounting sadness that she’d battled from the moment she’d talked to Professor McGonagall to overwhelm her. Quiet sobs shook her shoulder, the corners of her lips down-turned like a Greek tragedy mask.
She folded her arms over her stomach protectively, rocking forward with the sheer force of her bereavement. All the while, that little voice still nagging her.
You’re crying over this? Really? Don’t you have actual problems? People are dying, you know? You’ve always been selfish like that.
Lily sat and shook quietly, her jaw clenched tight enough to make her ears ring and drown the world around her.
Maybe that was why she did not hear the footsteps coming closer. Not noticing that someone had come close enough to touch her when a hand landed on her shoulder. The sudden weight made her jolt, frantically wiping at her tear-stained cheeks.
She quickly tucked the failed paper under her stack of books, blinking furiously in the hopes of stopping the flow of tears. She did not want to look as pathetic as she felt, as the voice told her she was.
“You alright, Evans?”
Lily almost laughed at the cruel fate of James Potter being the one to find her in this remote corner, crying to herself. Just as she started to like him, too. The normal flutter his soft tone conjured in her stomach seemed to twist itself around like it wanted to wring out the rest of the tears.
Drawing in a deep, shaky breath, she nodded, not turning around to look at James. “Perfectly peachy. Thank you, Potter,” she lied, her voice strained.
She did not need to turn around to know his shoulders sagged. She did not want to see the disappointed look on his face. Barely able to bear the thought of having someone else’s disappointment weighing down on her already crushed mood.
Lily flipped open one of the many books she’d compiled on her topic, pretending to get on with things in the hopes he would just move on. Why would he care, after all? He was only nice to her because they were supposed to work together.
At least, that is what her inner Petunia told her. A sentiment she would usually fight. When she wasn’t already fighting, the weight of all the expectations she placed on herself collapsed in on her.
Her eyes lifted from the page at the sound of wood scraping against stone, a chair being pulled back. “What are you doing, Potter?” She could not summon the usual bite, though, nor the flirty quips that had permeated their conversations as of late.
“I am catching up on potions,” he replied simply, dumping half the contents of his bag onto the table.
The messiness irked Lily. She reached out to place a chocolate frog card, which had slipped onto her notes, back on his side of the table. When she was about to let go, his hand met hers, a not-so-subtle attempt to touch her.
James’ hand was warm and surprisingly soft, his thumb trailing along the side of her hand. The small gesture sparked something in her chest. A glow that she usually only associated with the people she held closest.
That had never been him, though. James had always been in her orbit. He had been nice. But there were degrees of separation. Apprehension and walls that kept his warmth at arm’s length. Lily wasn’t sure when that had changed.
“Look, James, I am touched that you want to… Help?” she swallowed, hoping that her voice would sound less thick with tears after. “I-” she started to say when he cut her off.
“Don’t. People only say that before a but. You don’t need to push me away, Lils. I am not here to check on you.”
Lies. “Then why are you here?” She watched as he pulled up his shoulder nonchalantly and motioned to the book in front of him. Right, potions. She had to admit, though, that the casualness of his motion was soothing somehow. Like the restless ocean in her was learning from his calm waves.
“I didn’t know we had homework,” Lily admitted sheepishly, leaning a little closer to look at what section he was working on. Eyebrows drew together in confusion when she noticed a chapter they’d covered nearly a month ago. “Personal reasons?”
James chuckled, the shake of his head causing his glasses to slip down even further and now balanced precariously on the tip of his nose. “I might not have handed in this particular essay. Sluggy finally caught on.”
She watched as his hand carded through his hair and could not help but roll her eyes at the motion, the smallest of smiles tugging at her lips. “You’ll be fine. Valerian Root is pretty straightforward,” she offered, turning back to her own assignment.
Lily paused for a moment, massaging her lower lip between her teeth before offering. “If you need help, I’m here.”
There was a pause, the silence between them blooming with promise.
“Likewise.”
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Originally, Shadow 05 was not going to be in this au. But then I came up with the funniest possible way to include it in the story, and I couldn’t help myself. So you know how Camp Green Hill is set up like an animated series, with seasons and episodes and such? Well, I present to you Camp Green HIll: Shadow the Hedgehog, a post canon movie spinoff featuring our beloved moody hedgie and his adventure of accidental self discovery. The details are a little in the air right now, since I’m still finishing the base plot of CGH itself, so doodle explanations under the cut <3
Title Drop: First doodle of the batch I made, featuring Shadow and Rouge. They still work together under GUN post canon, and are cool and badass and etc. Slight design changes to Rouge because I wanted to, and Shadow rocks the button up and suit jacket combo. And yes, of course, he still has a gun.
I Can’t Draw Omega: I tried. And it did not go well, I’m so sorry Omega truthers.
Weird Way to Meet Your Dead Beat Dad: I saw this scene vividly. After the opening sequence, Rouge and Shadow are going back to the apartment, only to be met by Shadow’s alien dad, who he does not remember.
In the Lab, All Alone: This one’s more of a stretch, a vibe doodle if you will. I wanted to draw him in emotional distress, so I stuck him back on the Ark in the classic shitty hospital gown while he tries not to cry tears of frustration. Why? Because I said so. I don’t think it’ll make the final cut, but I had fun drawing it anyway.
Sonic and Tails: As I said, this au takes place post canon! Now Sonic is 18, and Tails is 14! Shadow is 19 himself. However, because of just how many times Sonic has gone super, he’s begun to physically change a little. While coming down from being super has its emotional fallouts, he’s done it so many times he’s begun to grow electric yellow fur on his ears, hands, feet, and around his eyes. It also seems to be on his quills, strangely. Tails is as nerdy as ever, clearly.
Super Shadow: Unfortunately, Shadow goes super every once in a blue moon too, and it too is beginning to manifest. While at the moment the third eye is just a temporary thing while super, there's no saying if it may stick around if he does it again. A note on that as well: the only Hedgie that doesn’t go Super more than once is Silver. This is intentional, on his part, as while he was super, he found it quite a challenge to keep himself under control and has avoided it since. Who knows what his manifestations may end up looking like.
Expressions: A surprised (though not unhappy) Shadow, contrasted with a visibly aggressive Shadow.
Cuddle Pile: Request from the stream. Coming down from being super has its downsides, and a pretty rough mental fallout. Being a god for an hour doesn’t leave a guy unscathed, y’know. While Silver resists it initially (for various plot reasons), eventually the two are able to convince him to join the emotional recovery party Sonic’s closer friends throw him when he goes super. This usually includes blanket time, as seen here.
Post Credits Shenanigans: I have this very vivid scene in my brain that would take place after the events of the story. Earlier, Sonic gushes about how cool he thinks Shadow actually is, under all the bitey rough exterior. Rouge, naturally, gets a recording and after everything is said and done plays it for him. This obviously flusters him. Please excuse the poorly edited blush, I realized I forgot to turn that layer back on only after I had saved the file. Oops.
Remember, asks are open for the characters themselves, or about the au <3
#Sonic the Hedgehog#Camp Green Hill#Shadow the Hedgehog#Shadow 05#Shadow the Hedgehog 2005#Rouge the Bat#Black Doom#Miles Tails prower#Silver the Hedgehog#Lots of Super lore lately#niko.jpeg#enjoy!!
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Eeeee I got so excited to see your asks are open again! ❤ because it's valentines, could I request something where the reader has been super unlucky in love, never been someone's valentine, never been kissed, never felt desired, so always felt really sad and left out especially on valentines with all the couples and romantic ads on TV. Even though she's certain she'll be rejected and that Loki won't feel the same, she's faces the hurt of rejection and gets him a card and chocolates and maybe a cheesy valentines teddy bear anyway, because she doesn't want him to feel left out on the holiday the same way she's felt left out all her life 🥺 (he of course likes her too, though 👀)
Keep up the amazing fics ❤❤❤ you're wonderful 🫶
Aaaahhhh!!!!! Thank you so much!!!! I'm so glad you sent this to me and I hope I do it justice for you!! And as always thank you so much for all the love and support!!! It means more then you know!!! 🥰💚
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Chocolate Hearts
Pairing: Avenger Loki x assistant reader
Warnings: self deprecating thoughts, slight depression, sadness, teeny bit of angst....and fluff!!!!
Summary: you've always spent valentines day alone, always the the forgotten one. Until this year you realize you aren't alone.....
A/n- graphics by @harlequin-hangout. This turned out way longer then I first anticipated....lol oops!! Hehe
You ran through your list, making sure you had everything as you headed to the checkout "who needs that many pop tarts." You huffed, tucking the list away pulling out the black credit card Stark had given you. Being the teams official errand runner was interesting to say the least, but getting to know everyone was definitely worth it. Your shy nature had always made it hard for you to make friends growing up, but they welcomed you with open arms. Bonding quickly with wanda and Nat they became two of your closest friends. And when the Asgardian brothers joined the team, you couldn't help smile at Thor's always positive attitude, and as far as Loki went...well that was another story....you absolutely didn't have a crush on him....no way.
As you stood in line you glanced at the magazines "How to do Valentine's on a Budget" in bold letters across one "How to Drive Him Crazy" on another making you groan. You always disliked this time of year, the hearts...the flowers...boxed chocolates as far as the eye could see. Shifting your attention forward as the line moved you saw a young couple holding hands as they kissed. You would give anything to know what that was like. You'd always been awkward when it came to dating, some would even say unlucky. You had managed a few dates here and there in your adult life but definitely nothing spectacular. Your date always ending the night with a handshake and a "see ya around." You'd never even been kissed.
You looked down fidgeting with a box of Thor's pop tarts trying to get your mind off it, but being surrounded by all things love was a blaring reminder that no one loved you, and probably never would. You finally got to the front of the line, quickly checking out you needed out of there. Swiping your card you loaded everything into the cart and headed out to your car, you phone ringing as you shut the trunk, pulling it out seeing an unknown number calling you making you furrow your eyebrows "hello?" You asked "h..ello...y/n can you hear me?" He asked loudly "yes, I can hear you, who is this?" You laughed holding the phone out "excellent, this is Loki, Thor showed me how to make calls on this odd device." He said "oh ok, hi... did you umm need anything?" You asked biting your lip. "Ah, yes I was wondering if I could ask you something?" He asked making your heart race "umm yeah sure, what's up?" You asked.
"Well dear, I was wondering...if it isn't too much trouble." He said making your smile "yes Loki?" You urged, crossing your fingers "could you grab me some of that green tea you got last time? I quite liked it." He said as your heart sank into your stomach. "Oh...y..yeah sure." You said looking down "Thank you y/n. I very much appreciate it." He said "sure, no problem." You said hanging up. "Stupid...why would he ask you out..." you said to yourself walking back into the store. You made it back out to the car, tossing the bag in with the others you got in, looking at the people coming out, flowers and heart shaped balloons in hand. You sighed starting your car wishing this holiday would hurry and be over.
You made it back to the tower, beginning to unload the trunk when you heard footsteps "ah, lady y/n allow me to assist you." You heard, turning your head seeing Thor smiling at you "Thank you, I appreciate it." You huffed looping some of the bags around your arms "no trouble at all." He said grabbing the last of the bags he closed the trunk following you to the elevator "so, what are your plans for the day of love?" He asked as you rode up "oh, Valentine's day? Nothing." You said looking down "surely not, I'm sure your boyfriend has something planned." He winked making you laugh "I don't have one Thor." You said, wishing the elevator would let you out. "Surely you jest, a pretty girl like you?" He asked turning to face you "ha...yeah ok." You laughed awkwardly, wanting the conversation over "I'm serious y/n, you are.." he was cut off as the doors opened and you rushed out.
You reached the kitchen, hefting the bags on the counter as Thor followed you "you know y/n, if you are free, might I make a suggestion?" He asked smiling at you "look, Thor i..." you were cut off by another voice coming from behind you "Brother, leave the poor girl alone." You turned seeing Loki towering over you "Loki, I was only asking of her plans for this..Valentine's day." Thor said setting the bags on the counter "I'm sure her plans are not your concern." Loki said glaring at him. "It's ok guys, really." You said as they both looked at you, pulling the tea and pop tarts from the bags you slid them to them "ah, thank you dear." Loki smiled picking up the box looking at Thor "how do you eat those?" He asked as Thor ripped the box open "you do not know what your missing." Thor said winking as he walked down the hall.
You sighed, unloading the bags as Loki stepped around you grabbing the kettle "would you care for some dear?" He asked setting the box next to the stove "oh, no thank you." You said, maneuvering around him putting the groceries away. "I apologize for my brother's intrusiveness, he can be quite nosy." Loki said leaning against the counter "oh, it's ok he was just curious." You shrugged gathering the empty bags doing your best not to look directly at him "when is this...valentine's day?" He asked crossing his arms "umm next week actually." You said stuffing the bags under the sink "and it is traditional to buy these silly trinkets for your lover?" He asked "typically yeah, some people go out on dates or buy jewelry or flowers and stuff." You said finally glancing up at him seeing him nod
"and what if, hypothetically you wanted to ask someone to be your lover? What would one do?" He asked, his eyes meeting yours making you shiver "um, honestly I'm not sure. I think just do what you feel? Like, ask them to dinner or a movie or something like that." You said "I think the holiday puts too much pressure on people, just...be yourself." You smiled watching him nod again "who would say no to you." You mumbled under your breath grabbing your things walking around the island "y/n there was something else I wanted to ask you." Loki said making you turn back "yes Loki." You said biting your lip. "I was curious, would you.." he was cut off by Tony walking in "Hey horns, we got a mission so we need to head to the conference room." He said as he walked up to you.
"Hey y/n, could you do me a solid and pick this stuff up for pepper? With the mission I'm afraid I won't have time to do it before next week." He asked smiling handing you a small list "oh...yeah sure, no problem Mr stark." You said pocketing the paper "Tony...please." He laughed walking towards the hall. You looked up seeing Loki straighten and follow Tony "loki, w..what were you gonna say?" You asked fidgeting with your hands "oh, it wasn't important. I'll see you around yes?" He asked smiling "um, yeah....I'll be around." You said, watching him bow slightly before leaving. "Yeah...see ya around" you sighed heading to your office.
You spent the next few days doing your best to isolate yourself in your office. Everytime you got on your phone it was one romantic story after another "we're engaged"..."he asked me out"....to ads for flowers, sappy love commercials all over the TV, you couldn't even walk down the street without billboards reminding you you were alone. Since Tony's favor, almost every single team member had come to your office with a list of items for you to get them for their significant other. The only ones you hadn't seen yet were Thor and Loki, and you prayed to whoever was listening that Loki wouldn't grace your doorway.
You sat at your desk, tapping your pencil off the wood hearing a knock "come in." You said still sifting through everyone's lists "Hello lady y/n. I have come to ask a favor" Thor said as you looked up at him "sure, what's up?" You asked "Well, I have to go on a mission soon and was wondering if you would grab a few things for me for lady jane?" He asked reaching into his pocket. "Oh..yeah sure." You said sitting up "Stark told me to ask since you are doing the same for him." He said holding the paper out. "Yeah I can do that." You said adding his paper to the pile. "I very much appreciate it y/n." He said starting to leave "umm, w..when...do you know when Loki is going to bring me his list?" You asked, regretting the question immediately "my brother has never been one to participate in holidays. He tends to keep to himself mostly." Thor said turning back to you "he's not getting anyone anything?" You asked confused.
"I must admit he does not tell me everything, but since we have arrived here I have yet to see him court anyone." Thor said making you frown "so...he's alone...on valentine's day?" You asked, an idea beginning to form in your mind. "It would seem yes" Thor said sighing "was there anything else you needed y/n?" He asked "no, thank you thor." You smiled, watching him nod as he left, closing the door behind him. You sat back, thinking about what Thor told you. You had spent every valentine's day alone, wallowing in your own misery, but you hated the fact that he might be feeling the same. Alone on a new planet with no one. You grabbed the lists and your wallet, stuffing everything in your pockets you grabbed your keys, locking your office before making your way to the parking garage with a plan.
You walked through the store, making sure everything was checked off of everyone's list you sighed. "Ok, my turn" you said to yourself walking down the aisle filled with hearts and chocolates. "What do you get a thousand year old alien prince?" You asked yourself looking around when your eyes met a cute fluffy teddy bear nestled on the bottom shelf. You crouched down picking him up, he was soft to the touch, and fluffy enough to want to hug with large green eyes that shined in the light with a little smirk sewn on his face "perfect." You said to yourself putting him in the cart as you carried on.
You had noticed based on the shopping lists that Loki had quite the sweet tooth, leaning towards the chocolate covered caramel variety so you picked a decent sized box of assorted chocolates, as well as few caramel filled chocolate bars before heading over to the cards, each one cheesier then the last you picked a "thinking of you" placing it in the cart when you saw a dark green wicker basket nestled near the craft section. Snagging it you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face as you walked up to the checkout. You..for once in your life, were excited about valentine's day.
You sat at the kitchen table, separating everyone's things into separate bags putting their names on them as you pulled out your gifts for Loki. Setting the basket down you placed the teddy bear in the middle, the box of chocolates nestled gently in front of him before adding the chocolate bars when you pulled out the card. "Hey, there you are. I haven't seen you around." You heard Nat making you look up "oh, yeah I've been pretty busy." You said motioning to the bags. "I can see that." She laughed sitting next to you "whose that for?" She asked nodding at the basket "someone." You smiled pulling a pen out of your pocket "wouldn't be someone I know would it?" She asked nudging your arm "I have no idea what your implying." You said feigning indifference. "Hmm. Let's see...green basket...insane amount of chocolate..." She said rubbing her chin "does it begin with an L?" She asked as you glared at her.
Loki was walking down the hall heading towards you office practicing what he was going to say. He had become quite fond of you since he arrived, your kind nature was a balm to his heart. Where others met him with indifference and disdain, you offered him smiles and friendship. And when Thor had come to him telling him you had no suitor, he knew this was his chance to ask the question that had been burning deep inside him, he only hoped you had felt the same. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves when he heard your voice coming from the kitchen, stopping in the hallway when he heard the widow was with you. He knew he shouldn't eavesdrop but he couldn't help his curiosity.
"I can't hide anything from you." You laughed "comes with the job." She shrugged smiling "d..do you think he'll like it?" You asked biting your lip "I think he'll love it, I mean it's chocolate." She said making you laugh "well, I hope so. I'm so...what if..." She cut you off "no, no what if's, your a catch. And if he doesn't see that he's blind." She said nudging your shoulder. "Thanks nat, I just...im not good at this stuff." You sighed looking at the basket "just be yourself and you'll be fine. Trust me, he's a lucky guy." She smiled "now, finish up and go get your man." She said standing up "yes ma'am." You said saluting her making her laugh as she walked towards the hall, loki quickly teleporting to his room before he was seen, his mind running a mile a minute, feeling his heart sink remembering what he heard.
He sat in his chair running a hand through his hair, he was too late...you had found someone. He sighed sitting back looking out the window at the city below "he is a lucky man indeed." He said, as he closed his eyes, wishing he had had the nerve to ask you sooner when he heard a faint sound on the other side of his door, barely audible but just enough for him to know someone was on the other side. He got up, conjuring his dagger he slowly gripped the handle of the door, hearing the sound again he flung the door open being met by your wide eyes staring back at him "y..y/n?" He asked seeing panic etched across your face.
"H..hey Loki i..." you trailed off looking down "i..I didn't mean to disturb you." You said as his eyes traveled down seeing the basket nestled in your arms "I'm sorry..I'll go." You tried rushing off when he gently grabbed your arm "my apologies, I did not mean to scare you my dear." He smiled, the dagger vanishing into thin air as you turned to look at him "would you perhaps like to come in?" He asked waving inside the door "oh i..I don't want to impose, I was just gonna leave this here and go." You said quietly shifting the basket in your arms. "Please, I insist." He said stepping aside as you walked past him. You stood in the middle of the room, looking around you saw daggers displayed along the wall, his large bookshelf that practically took up an entire wall, various paintings hung throughout "wow, this is amazing." You said turning back to him.
"Thank you my dear, please have a seat and tell me what brings you here." He said waving towards the couch. "Well, you see i..." you trailed off sitting down "I was shopping for everyone today and I...I thought maybe..." you trailed off picking at the wicket basket as Loki sat next to you "thought what y/n?" He asked urging you on "Well, see I've never been good at this, and your probably going think it's silly...that im silly." You whispered when you felt his fingers under your chin, gently lifting your head your eyes met his "you are not silly darling, tell me.." he whispered watching you intently "umm..so I got you this." You said handing him the basket, his fingers brushing yours as he grabbed it placing it on his lap "t..the bear reminded me of you." You laughed nervously seeing him smile "he is devilishly handsome isn't he?" Loki asked making you giggle.
"This is very sweet y/n, thank you." He said standing up he carefully placed the bear on his bookshelf before returning to sit next to you "well um I should probably go, I'm sure your probably tired and..." he cut you off holding his hand up as his long fingers picked up the card that was nestled at the bottom. "Oh..y..you don't have to read that now it's ok." You said as your palms began to feel clammy. "But I would like to, if it's ok with you?" He asked. You nodded, closing your eyes preparing for the rejection you knew was coming hearing him open the envelope. "Look, I know.." he cut you off again holding a finger up as his eyes darted back and forth, a smile spreading across his face before he looked up at you "truly y/n? You wish to go to dinner with me?" He asked.
You felt like you heart was about to explode as you wiped your palms on your thighs "if you don't want to it's totally ok, I mean I was just curious If you werent busy, and I wasn't busy and if you were hungry...if you get hungry, that you know..food is always a good choice in that instance and..." you were halted in your incoherent rambling as Loki placed a finger on your lips "I would love to y/n." He smiled. You were sure you had died...your heart had stopped and you were dead "may I ask something y/n?" He asked leaning closer "y...yeah." you stuttered "would it be too forward if I asked to kiss you?" He asks making you freeze "er...um well...you see, i..." you huffed, attempting to regain any composure deciding to just tell him "I've never kissed anyone before." You rushed out watching his eyebrows furrow "you mean to tell me, no one has ever..." he trailed off watching you shake you head.
You watched him set the basket on the table, scooting closer to you his long fingers caressed your cheek, traveling down to your neck while his thumb rubbed small circles along your jaw "may i?" He asked looking deep in your eyes "y..yes." you breathed as he slowly leaned in, his eyes traveling to your lips and back as you closed your eyes, feeling his warm breath fan across your face as he genlty pressed his lips to yours. Tilting his head he deepened the kiss, slowly running his tongue along your bottom lip you parted them, feeling his tongue slide past your lips caressing yours you followed his lead hearing him moan, deciding you never wanted to stop hearing that when he pulled back, biting your lip gently.
"Are you ok y/n?" He asked when you realized you eyes were still closed "y...yes...mmhmm." you said seeing him smile "I must admit something to you." He said running his fingers through your hair "I have wanted to do that since we met." He said seeing your eyes widen "b..but im..and your..." you stuttered hearing him laugh "Darling, you are an incredible woman. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was afraid you did not feel the same" He said looking down "and I was afraid I had missed my chance this evening when I heard you speaking to romanoff." He said "Loki, I think your incredible too, and I thought you wouldn't feel the same." You said making him laugh "we are both oblivious I see." He said making you laugh "yes, yes we are." You agreed. "Well darling, how would you feel about watching a film and helping me eat this chocolate hmm?" He smiled "I would love that." You said as he leaned forward handing you the remote.
"Happy valentine's day Loki." You said kissing his cheek "happy valentine's day y/n." He said kissing your forehead as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders pulling you into his chest. You closed your eyes taking a deep breath, his cologne invading your senses making you sigh. You snuggled further into him deciding this was your new favorite spot.
@vbecker10 @mochie85 @lokisgoodgirl @springdandelixn @kinky-faerie @xorpsbane @midnights-ramblings @simping-for-marvel @holdmytesseract @kkdvkyya @slpnbty2001 @lokixryss @vane28282 @violethaze @coldnique @aniar4wniak @nate-ate-hate @buttercupcookies-blog @brattymum96 @dukes2581 @your-taste-on-my-lips @mybabyh @blog-the-lilly @irishhappiness @sinsandguilt @filthyhiddles @lovebyloki @kikster606 @javagirl328 @misunderstoodself @highkeysimpingforloki @eleniblue @commanding-officer @athalialaufeyson @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lokiandbuckysdoll @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @high-functioning-lokipath @kittiowolf210 @slytherclaw1227 @joyfullymassivewhispers @wolfsmom1 @libbybeaz @lokikissesmyforehead @goblingirlsarah @thomase1
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Who Kept Fizz and Blitz apart?
We've got at least three candidates on who could've kept Fizz and Blitz apart after the fire though I have at least one extra theory considering the medical professionals in Sloth.
In the episode Oops, Blitz mentioned that "they" said Fizz didn't want to see Blitz while Fizz was told by "them" that Blitz never came to see him in the first place. Someone was keeping these two apart intentionally and it makes their split even more tragic since Fizz would've forgiven Blitz or not been as angry at Blitz if he had been allowed to see Blitz. And Blitz probably would've had a better support system if he was allowed to see Fizz.
I want to put arguments for and against each theory to see where we could go from here and what we'll eventually learn about the truth when these two learn it.
Culprit 1: Mammon
Argument: Considering the placement of this sign in the episode Oops, it would be very easy to predict that Mammon would be the one that could have kept these two apart but also have a motive. Let's say he got word of Fizz's talents at the Buckzo Imp Circus through word of mouth and talent scouts. He probably had an eye on Fizz and would've recruited him to be his latest cashcow. He would have the money to give Fizz prosthetics that would help him perform again. Or hire Ozzie to give Fizz the prosthetics which would give a reason on how they met and fell in love. He wouldn't want Fizz to get distracted so he probably ordered any nurses in Sloth or wherever he was recovering to keep anyone out and isolate Fizz, making him easy to manipulate.
Counterargument: Mammon can be a bit of a dumbass so if Fizz auditioned to be his next star after he got his prosthetics, he probably treated him nice to start but the abuse would gradually happen over time. We don't know exactly how long Fizz was working for him but it's enough to make Fizz feel self-conscious about still being good enough to work for him. And he probably would've said something if he knew about Blitz trying to see his former friend. Mammon probably met and had Fizz working for him after he recovered.
Culprit 2: Cash Buckzo
Argument: I love this jackass but he's still a greedy jackass that cares very little about his own son while treating Fizz like the golden child. BUT I could see his ONE redeeming quality that he cares very deeply for his wife, Tilla. Using his son to steal riches from the Goetia and emotionally manipulating him so they could get treasures that he could sell to keep their family afloat. And I'll give him credit that he was disturbed enough by Paimon wanting to buy his son (at first) for Stolas. But his favoritism for Fizz and neglect of Blitz (we don't know how he treated Barbie) could've manifested into resentment for the accident his son caused with the fire. Buckzo not only lost his livelihood and wife but the kid he wished was his son was damaged so he could've kept the two of them apart out of spite and grief from losing the woman he loved.
Counterargument: He's also a bit of a dumbass and the alcohol might've scrambled his brain enough where he wouldn't be able to think of keeping Blitz and Fizz apart. And from the phonecall Blitz had in the episode Unhappy Campers, Blitz does seem to be on speaking terms enough with his father that he'd actually call him to try and figure out where Barbie was. And I think Buckzo would've been dealing with the loss of the circus as well as his wife so as much as he probably would've wanted to get back at his son and protect Fizz from getting hurt worse (since I think he does care about Fizz in some capacity), the grief he was going through probably would've made him unable to actually do it.
Culprit 3: Barbie Wire
Argument: We know very little about Barbie and what we do know is from the few mentions of her we've had in the show and pictures. But I think if her attitude towards her brother is anything to go by, I could believe she tried to separate Blitz and Fizz because of her own issues. We know she wasn't there during the fire and Blitz mentioned to Fizz that Fizz was all he had left. He lost his mother, his father neglected him, and there was probably a growing separation between Blitz and Barbie that hurt Blitz deeply, no doubt her drug addiction. When the fire happened, it seemed to happen when Blitz and Fizz were in their mid to late teens. Barbie could've either been sent away to rehab or gone off on her own, not being happy with the circus life. Maybe she felt resentment that her mother was close to Blitz and wanted to find her own path that isn't being a twin. Maybe she was manipulated by her father into seeing Blitz as the weak link in the family. Or maybe she felt anger that Blitz couldn't save their mother even though he was there when she wasn't there. It's hard to say if she was close to Fizz like Blitz was but if she got her father's attitude, she probably could've kept both boys separated out of spite and grief. She's familiar enough with the staff at the rehab center in Sloth that she could tell them to keep Blitz and Fizz separated "for their own good". And she purposefully used Blitz's old name even though she started with his preferred name when they saw each other, intentionally hurting her brother. Who's to say she wasn't capable of hurting him before? Maybe she felt resentment at how close Blitz and Fizz were and thought Fizz deserved better. Or maybe the drugs caused her to act out.
Counterargument: I don't want to throw Barbie under the bus since we only got a brief appearance by her and I hope she and Blitz will reconcile in some way. If Blitz can make up with Fizz, he can certainly make up with his sister. Since she wasn't around during the fire, maybe her anger at Blitz not being able to save their mother as well as anger at herself for not being there. I could see her deflecting her own feelings of guilt and grief onto her brother, blaming him for everything like her father did. But I could also see her wanting to run away from her feelings; she probably wants to get close to her brother but she just can't face him since I think deep down, she knows that isn't fully Blitz's fault. An accident is still an accident and they were basically children when it happened; Blitz has suffered enough and Barbie probably is trying to cope on her own. Maybe there's even some resentment of being a twin to someone that isn't as good or the lesser twin, feeling like she has to be better than him. If that's the case, she probably would want to separate herself from her old life and lashes out whenever Blitz tries to reach out.
Culprit 4: Sloth's Medical Staff
Argument: Okay this one might be a bit of a stretch (and I'm only using Barbie's nurse to make a point) but despite how nice and relaxing Sloth is and it being a hub for medical care and rehab, it's still a ring of Sin. They have a lot of drugs and use people like Barbie to get drugs from Earth to Hell. They're going to have their selfish parts to them too. It takes five years to get a Hellbies shot for Loona and they have staff that are really lazy that Blitz was ready to shoot them when he was losing his patience. And while people do give Barbie's nurse the benefit of the doubt in wanting to keep Barbie from falling off the wagon by trying to talk Blitz out of seeking her out, even using his preferred name, they don't seem very good at keeping people in rehab that should still be there. Verosika got out because she was still "famous" but it's very likely she got out because the staff were neglectful and got paid off. Who's to say they didn't get paid off to keep Fizz and Blitz separate, saying that Fizz didn't want to see Blitz or Blitz never came to visit. and they only seem to really get their asses in gear when a high profile demon is seriously hurt (ie, Stolas). Since Fizz is famous, they probably could've kept him guarded away where Blitz couldn't visit.
Counterargument: As much as her methods were harsh, Barbie's nurse did seem like she was looking out for Barbie and Blitz in a way. And the goat doctor was probably the nicest character we've seen in Sloth even if he used a needle that scared poor Loona. Whether there's actual malicious intent or just incompetence, we still don't know too much about this ring or the medical practices in Sloth but it's at least interesting to think about.
#hellvua boss#helluva boss theory#helluva fizzarolli#helluva blitzo#helluva barbie wire#helluva mammon#helluva cash buckzo#helluva boss sloth#sloth ring#blitzø#blitzo#barbie wire#fizzarolli#mammon#cash buckzo#helluva theory#theory
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I have zero self-control when it comes to creature!cas in any form so I saw a selkie!cas option for the @deancaspinefest and all other thoughts ceased to exist uh
I tried a mix of two styles for this fic's art by combining my usual thick black outlines with the crayon pen on Flipaclip to create layered colors, as per my author's request. this let me do almost like a children's story book vibe here but I think that's just the name of the pen talking. either way look seal Cas hdhfndi (and my attempt at drawing a boat but ignore that as well as the weirdly tiny credits)
here's Dean rescuing Cas who looks like he just woke up from a nap or something there. Dean's expression looked better before I erased half of it to make room for Cas' head and I'm now unsure what face Dean's really supposed to be making beyond exertion meets determination. I originally had a lighter blue sky here (as well as in the banner) but the author assures me the sky in Scotland only comes in grey, which has the added bonus of making this whole atmosphere a little more tense
it took me forever to get a decent angle for this one it was just weirdly impossible for no reason and I only got this after trashing six other partially complete sketches and it still looks kinda weird but it was unexpectedly impossible trying to get a view where you can see Dean and Cas. also just now realizing that the pipe on the showerhead leads nowhere oops
*obligatory image of Dean falling in the water while marine flavored creature!cas saves him (or, well, looks at him ig)*
still very bad at drawing water but an attempt was made though Dean's pose could be better and Cas looks too small to really be able to swim Dean back to shore. let's just ignore...all of that uh. I intentionally made Dean's outfit here symbolic and all that. in the other pics, he's wearing reds and greys but now he's wearing a tan not unlike Cas' trench coat (albeit darker) and his flannel is a mixture of blue and green, representing both the ocean and ofc him and Cas (desitle colors gjkdhdgf) because I'm weak and Dean was pining for so long that he subconsciously starting wearing Cas Colors ,_,
so yay style experimentation and double yay for Dean and Cas being dumb again 🎉
the fic this is made for is called "all out to sea" by @s7jacket for the deancas pinefest bang
(04/10/24)
#my art#supernatural#spn#spn fanart#castiel#dean winchester#destiel#my bang legacy#deancas pinefest#creature cas#selkie cas#fic art#art made for other people#animal spn#animal cas#seal cas
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*smacks table* mirror sex with crosshair
*stands up from table abruptly, letting my chair topple over behind me* Absolutely anon!
Another wonderful request ty for all the love everyone! Stay tuned as I work on a 300 follower celebration for yall (when i think of something to do oops) and as always feel free to send some more crosshair requests! Also let me know if you want to be added to my taglist via DM
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Mirror sex, Unprotected PiV not much else i dont think
Word Count: 972
You had splurged on a hotel room when Crosshair came to visit you on shore leave. You met him not far away from 79’s as he separated from his brothers with a self-satisfied smirk plastering his face and instructions of ‘not to wait up’ yelled over his shoulder as he wrapped his long arm around your waist and led you towards the hotel you had previously mentioned.
He couldn’t keep his hands off you the entire walk, alternating between squeezing your ass, to pressing you against the nearest wall to smother your lips with kisses, to soothing his hand up and down you side. It was torture, you wanted nothing more than for him to rip your clothes off and take you outside in the Coruscant streets where anyone could see, but you had to be patient. You spent a lot of credits on this room, and you intended to make the most of it.
And that’s where you found yourself now, perched on Crosshair’s lap like a queen as you rode him in front of a floor to ceiling mirror. He was seated on the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor, knees spread, your thighs resting over his legs putting you on full display.
You watched with rapt attention as his thick length thrust in and out of your entrance, your slick running down his shaft and onto his balls as he moves you up and down on top of him, right hand coming down to rub tight circles on your clit causing small whimpers and moans to leave you. His mouth leaving bites and hickies along your neck and collar bone that were sure to be visible for days to come. He paused his assault on your soft skin to lock eyes with you in the mirror.
“See that doll? See how perfect you look all spread out for me?” You have no idea how he’s so composed as he begins to fasten his pace in and out of you, sounding like he’s just having a leisurely chat with a fellow soldier as opposed to muttering filthy things into your ear as he spears you on his cock. He feels so good, but it’s not enough, and he knows it if the proud look on his face is anything to go by.
“Kark- Crosshair please… harder” you whine at him, hoping he would take mercy on you.
“Now, mesh’la, here I was thinking we were just enjoying the work of art in front of us, you can’t rush perfection you know” he purrs in your ear, eyes locked with yours in the mirror, blown pupils betraying just how badly he wanted you. Despite his words he does pick up the pace slightly, pounding into you harder, one hand grabbing your breast and pinching at your nipple while the other hastens his strokes against your clit.
Your eyes close slightly and your head lowers at the pleasure before he moves his hand up to your throat, forcing your chin up so you’re facing the mirror again. “Eyes open precious, I don’t want you missing a single second of this” he punctuates his statement with a harsh thrust of his hips into you. You let out another moan as his tempo increases, until you find yourself bouncing up and down on his cock, garbled whimpers leaving you.
Moving his hand back down to your chest to pinch and tweak your sensitive nipples, he moves his head down, sucking more marks up and down your neck, nipping and soothing his tongue over the heated skin.
You can hear Crosshair’s breath begin to quicken, and looking at his face in the mirror you can see the blush staining his face and the tips of his ears, a quiet groan forcing its way out from behind his clenched teeth. His half-lidded eyes find yours again in the mirror before he rakes them down your body, focusing on where the two of you are connected, taking in the site of your folds stretching to accommodate his girth.
His unrelenting pace as well as the friction of his fingers dancing over your clit has the coil in your belly snapping, writhing against him as your orgasm washes over you. Your clenching muscles cause crosshair to let out a long groan, his pace quickening further as he pounds into you before abruptly stopping and pulling out.
“On all fours, facing the mirror doll” he orders, stroking himself as he waits for you to get into position. He moves behind you and re-enters you in one swift motion, setting a rapid pace, the new position letting him reach deeper than before. The sound of skin slapping against skin and your mingling moans are the only thing that can be heard in the room as he fucks you into the mattress.
“Remember… eyes on us doll, I want you to watch as I fill you up” he all but growls, thrusting into you as far as he can go as he spills inside you, letting out a string of curses and praises as he empties himself in your slick walls.
As he pulls out you collapse onto the bed, utterly drained as he moves to lie down beside you. He reaches a hand out towards his discarded armour placing a toothpick into his mouth as you both work to get your breathing under control, a thin layer of sweat covering both your bodies.
You try to think of something to say but you don’t want to ruin the moment, both of you content just to bask in your post orgasmic hazes. Crosshair then sits up, moving behind you and spreading your swollen lips, watching his spend ooze out of you and locking eyes with you once again in the mirror.
“Round two?” he asks with a smirk.
@where-is-my-mind-tho
#crosshair x reader#crosshair smut#crosshair x reader smut#the bad batch smut#tbb crosshair smut#bad batch crosshair smut#the bad batch crosshair smut#crosshair x you#crosshair x you smut#bad batch crosshair#tbb crosshair#crosshair
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The Curse of Sight, Part 5
[Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]
Ao3 Link (only available to Ao3 members)
Summary: When Wes Weston meets Tim Drake-Wayne, the dots start connecting. And those dots form a bat.
xxXxx
Tim Drake first met Wes Weston not as Tim, but as Red Robin.
His initial impression of the kid was that he was either stupid or had no self-preservation, or a combination of both. What kind of person tries to make conversation with their mugger? Who just stands there and tries convincing their mugger that there’s no point in mugging them?
…Disregarding the fact that in a way, it worked. When Red Robin finally intervened, the mugger was only demanding Wes’s watch instead of a wallet. Wes had officially logicked his way out of handing over his mom’s “emergencies only” credit card.
Of course, he didn’t know the kid’s name until a few days later, when he ran into him as a civilian at Wayne Enterprises. And Tim won’t lie: he really only wandered over to him at first because he smelled coffee. Once it registered that the coffee wasn’t for him, he lost interest until he saw the exact predicament Wes was in: his hands were too full of coffee to press the elevator call button.
So Tim waltzed over and pressed the up button, then followed him in to press the kid’s floor number. He even took two of the cartons while the elevator started pulling them up.
It was during that exchange that Tim actually recognized Wes as the civilian who was too mouthy for his own good. Maybe Tim should have recognized him sooner, but he wasn’t exactly running on five hours of sleep, it’d been a few days, and Tim can’t remember every person he saves because then he’d have no room for important memories, like where to get the best coffee, and what insults annoy Damian the most.
After making the connection between the redhead civilian and the redhead intern, it amused Tim to note how Wes seemed more frightened of him than the mugger. But it made sense in the capitalist America they lived in: Tim is his boss, who holds much more financial power over Wes than a one-time mugger. Of course he’s more scared of one of the people who can determine if he’ll get into a good college and have a good job.
The interaction should have just ended with him helping Wes drop off the coffee to the PR Department, but then Jade Oswald started aggressively shoving the cardboard carton holders into Wes’s hands, and Wes just took it.
This was what Wes’d been so worried about.
Tim puts a swift stop to it, and makes a Wayne-typical flirty statement to Wes about bringing him a coffee next time he runs out. It doesn’t occur to his caffeine-addled mind until patrol that night that a baby intern might take the CEO’s words seriously.
Oops.
Well, they were going to have that meeting with PR in the morning anyway, so it’d be fine. He’d be able to correct it then.
But then he didn’t see Wes when he and Bruce went to floor 73, and the meeting was interrupted by Wes to drop off coffee, and Wes remembered his order.
And he ordered blond espresso because it has more caffeine, something that Alfred won’t let him have anymore for that exact reason.
Tim’s pretty sure there were stars in his eyes as he whispered, “You are a coffee god.”
After that, he couldn't just not enable Wes to bring him the nectar of the gods. He gave Wes his phone number and told him to inform him when he’s on a coffee run so he can tell Wes where he’s at. The next day, when Wes dutifully texted him, Tim jumped at the opportunity to escape from Lucius Fox’s coded scoldings about tearing up some of the Bat-tech he provides. As they walked and talked, Tim found that he actually had a lot in common with Wes, and that the intern was quick-witted even if a little anxious.
And, well. The rest is history, as they say.
“Did you finally ask Wes to the Pride Gala, Tim?” Steph asks gleefully at supper.
He resists the urge to sink lower in his seat. It’d be too big of a tell. Still, he can’t keep the grumble out of his voice when he says, “...Kinda.”
“Kinda?”
He mutters something under his breath.
“What was that, Timmers?” Dick asks. He’s still on a short leash thanks to being kidnapped as a civilian last week, so he’d compromised and agreed to drive in for supper a few times this week to put Bruce’s worried dad-heart at rest.
“I said I asked him and Rebecca to work the gala for TikTok!”
Everyone else’s side conversations halt at his words, and not even the clatter of silverware can be heard.
Tim allows himself to sink further into his seat now.
“So you have a crush on this kid and to spend time with him, you asked him to work an event?” Dick asks.
He shifts the piece of steak he’d cut around on his plate, “...Uh, yes. That covers it.”
“Wow,” Duke comments. “That’s gotta be some kind of abuse of power.”
Tim whips his head up at that, “You think so? Should I tell him never mind? I don’t want to—”
“Now, Master Timothy,” Alfred chimes in from his place at the table beside Bruce. “I don’t think there’s reason to panic. You spend a lot of time with him as equals, don’t you? If he didn’t want to work the event, I’m sure he would feel comfortable saying no.”
But now Tim’s nerves are fried, and he’s glad for the fork in his hand that prevents him from playing with the hem of his hoodie. “But I’m the CEO of the company he works at. How can I be sure that any of this is consensual on his end? I—”
“You’re worried about nothing,” Steph cut in comfortingly. She smirks, “Besides, I’ve stalked you two on multiple occasions now. It’s safe to say he likes you.”
He slams his fork onto the plate to point at her angrily, “I knew it! I got into a fight with Jason because of you!” She’d told him that the older boy was planning on stalking them for blackmail material, and he’d pinned the stare he could feel on the back of his head as Jason’s. He should’ve known it was psychological espionage.
Steph only grins innocently, “You two were really cute at Robinson Park. I mean, when you—”
He picks his fork back up and flings it at her. She dodges accordingly and the fork lodges in the back of her seat, right where her head would have been.
“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne!” Bruce scolds.
“Middle-named,” Dick hisses. “Ouch.”
“I didn’t know you were taking lessons from Damian,” Steph says casually, removing the fork from the wood and tossing it back to him.
He catches it and says simultaneously with Damian, “I would never.”
They exchange irritated looks at the accidental twinning.
“Don’t,” Bruce says when Damian opens his mouth. The younger shuts his mouth obligingly and returns to eating his food. Bruce turns back to Tim, “You know better than to throw silverware at the dinner table.”
Tim sighs, “You’re right. Sorry, Alfred.”
“Thank you, Master Timothy,” Alfred gracefully accepts as Bruce’s brow twitches.
“Really, Tim?”
“Really, what, B? You’ll need to be more specific.”
Bruce only sighs, and Tim and Steph snicker in response.
“Back to the matter at hand,” Dick says, “you should really work on your communication skills, Tim. You don’t wanna end up like Bruce, do you?”
“All of my relationships have been perfectly fine, Dick.” Bruce rolls his eyes.
Tim squints scrutinizingly at Bruce, “No, no. He has a point.”
Even Damian nods, “It’s true, Father. Even Mother says that you are not adept at communication in romantic relationships.”
“Gross, didn’t need to know that.” Steph wrinkles her nose, and Tim mirrors the action subconsciously in his own disgust.
“Yeah, way TMI, Baby Bat,” Dick says.
Dinner continues in much the same affair, and at the end, Tim follows Damian up to his room.
“Why are you following me, Drake?” Damian finally asks when he gets to his bedroom door instead of continuing to ignore Tim.
“I wanted to ask you something—”
“The answer is no.”
“You haven’t even heard me out yet!”
Damian sighs, long-suffering like he’s 80 and not 12. “What is it?”
“I had a meeting with Penny Rolland and others at PR,” he starts. He should credit Wes, but he knows that Damian will say no if he knows it’s just an intern’s idea. “We were thinking of utilizing WE’s new TikTok for some Wayne Family exposure that wouldn’t include the press. Our first idea is having you introduce your pets.”
The look Damian gives him is unimpressed, “You just want an excuse to have your crush in Wayne Manor without the paparazzi scaring him off.”
“That’s not true! I can invite him over without needing work as an excuse!”
“Drake, all you are is work. It’s disgusting.” Damian furrows his brow in emphasis, looking every inch the Wayne he is.
Tim rolls his eyes, “Okay, fine. I’ll have an interview scheduled with Grey Howard for you, then.”
Grey Howard was easily the most nosy, intolerable, and uncomfortable human being to have ever cursed the world with her presence. It was a punishment to even be in the same building as her, nevermind be interviewed by her.
Damian’s eyes narrowed, “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” Tim squares his shoulders back.
They glare into each other’s eyes for a good thirty seconds before Damian breaks with a scoff, “Fine. But Richard brings Haley and I get to approve of everything that goes in this plebeian ‘TikTok,’ understood?”
“Of course.” Tim knows how much of a sacrifice it is to have a public persona. Sure, there wasn’t any privacy in a place like the League of Assassins, but being surrounded by nosy assassins was a lot different from being in the spotlight of the demanding public. Public that felt like they were entitled to every space the Waynes could inhabit, even their home. “Thanks… Damian.”
“Tt. Whatever, Drake.” Then he backed into his room and slammed the door.
That actually went better than expected. Still, Tim is 80% sure he only agreed because he’d get to show off his beloved pets, and he’d get to see Haley.
Tim heads back to his room and shoots off a quick text to Dick about Friday, which he gets a quick, “Show off my baby Haley? Ofc I’m in!” in response. As expected.
He then finishes off a few WE emails and then heads to the cave to suit up for patrol. He’s been taking a new route lately, a route that passes over Wes’s home. And if he tends to linger there for longer than normal, watching for threats or maybe even just a glimpse of red hair, then well. That’s between him and Gotham’s smoggy sky.
xxXxx
The next day at work, Tim can’t make it to Wes’s coffee run, too caught up with the Board to swing down. But when his lunch break rolls around, he leaves his office.
“Sadie, I’m going out for lunch. I’ll be back at one,” he informs his secretary.
“You’ve been taking more breaks lately,” she notes, organizing a stack of papers. “Normally, you work through lunch.”
“Is this a bad thing?”
“On the contrary, Mr. Drake-Wayne.” Sadie pauses in her work to make eye contact. “I think it’s a very good thing. And I have heard that it’s for a good boy, hm?”
Tim’s ears grow hot. Damn office gossip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mh-hmm, of course, Mr. Drake-Wayne. Enjoy your lunch. I’ll hold your calls until 1:30.”
“I said I’d be back by one.”
“And I said I’d hold your calls until 1:30.”
So basically, don’t come back until 1:30.
God, she is just like Alfred. But that’s why he’d hired her and kept her on. Bruce’s secretary, Bev, is very similar, even.
“You got it. You enjoy your lunch, too.”
“Thank you, Mr. Drake-Wayne.”
Tim then rushes for the elevator and hits the summon button, trying to feel less hot.
Stop. Blushing.
The elevator dings and the door opens, and the space inside is blessedly empty. He enters and hits the 73rd floor. His ride is only interrupted once by two busy-talking suits from the law department, and he’s able to get away with minimal interaction.
When the elevator opens to the floor of the PR Department, he makes his way over to Rebecca’s cubicle, where Wes can always be found.
Only, he’s not there.
He frowns as he takes in the sight of Rebecca focused on her desktop, typing away on a Google Doc, and the empty stool that should be occupied by Wes. He knocks on the side of the cubicle for Rebecca’s attention, and her head whips to look at him.
“Oh, Mr. Drake-Wayne,” she says. “Looking for Wes?”
“Yes, would you happen to know where he is?”
“He’s with Ms. Rolland,” she answers. “They’re in her office.”
“Ah,” he says. With his mom. That makes sense. “Okay, thanks. While I’m here, I should tell you that Damian and Dick have agreed to appear on the WE TikTok to introduce their pets to the public.”
Her eyes light up, “Really? That’s great! Thank you, Mr. Drake-Wayne. I’ll draft up a narration, but it’ll still be the two introducing the pets and telling the audience about them. So it’ll be more like, ‘Ever wondered about the beloved pets of the Waynes? Well, let’s take a look!’ type of thing, and then your brothers would tell us about them and show them off, and maybe play with them a little.”
“That sounds great, Rebecca.” And it does because it’s low effort for Damian, who wants to stab a katana through a camera more than he wants to smile at one. “I’ll talk to you and Wes about it more later, okay?”
“For sure,” she nods vigorously. “Enjoy your lunch date, sir.”
Aaaaaannnnd the burning ears are back. “Lunch date?”
“Oh, sorry, is that not what you needed Wes for?” Rebecca blinks innocently. “I didn’t mean to assume….”
Wait. Hold on. If that’s what Rebecca was assuming, does that mean she—
Has Wes told her something? Confided a crush in her? Or… is this just teasing like with Sadie?
His stomach twists, and he vaguely thinks that maybe he should reprimand her—they don’t have a working relationship like he does with Sadie—but he’s Gen Z and much less uptight than his older employees, and he’s more concerned with the potential of what Wes thinks of him.
He opens his mouth to ask, and then clicks it shut when the movement brings a surge of fear.
“I should go,” he hears himself say, and then he walks at a perfectly normal and calm pace to Ms. Rolland’s office.
He clasps his palms over his cheeks a few times to tame the redness, takes a deep breath, and then knocks. At the immediate call of, “Come in,” he opens the door.
“Mr. Drake-Wayne,” Penny greets upon seeing him come through the door, and Wes’s head snaps up at him from where he’d been hunching over a laptop. “Here for my son?”
Well, at least it makes sense for her to ask that, he thinks despairingly to himself before clearing his throat, “Ah, yes, I was hoping he’d be alright with going out to lunch with me?”
Wes fiddles with his fingers, cracking the joints within them, “Yeah, I’ll go. Mom?”
“Where do you plan on going?” she asks, and Wes cuts a questioning glance to Tim.
“I was thinking Chinese?” he suggests. “Probably Chopsticks, since it’s close by.”
“Chinese sounds good,” Wes agrees, shutting his laptop and standing, then setting the laptop down on the chair he’d been occupying. “I’ll see you, Mom. Should we bring you anything back?”
“No, just have fun. Both of you.”
“You got it, Ms. Rolland,” Tim replies and holds open the door for Wes.
They exit Wayne Enterprises, keeping up a steady flow of conversation between them as they go, and Tim taking the lead. Chopsticks is only a few blocks away, but they have to cross a few streets to get there. Because Gotham traffic is nothing to sneeze at, it’ll take a while to get there.
“How’s work been? Find anything about the My Immortal fan?” Wes asks casually as the sun beats down on them even while behind gray clouds.
“No,” Tim snorts. It’s been driving B crazy. And Barbara and Tim himself, of course. The guy has no history—he’s brand new to the game. They didn’t even get a name from him, so Bruce has taken to calling him N—short for Neon, which derives from the toxic green highlighting his otherwise black suit. Dick, on the other hand, refers to him as Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way. Or just Ebony for short.
One of the misnomers has more character than the other. Bruce is, unsurprisingly, outvoted in Ebony’s name. At least when with most of his kids.
“That’s too bad,” Wes says. “But I guess you’re more worried about the gala, huh?”
“Yeah,” Tim agrees, even if it’s a lie. He’s had way too many sleepless nights analyzing the video of Ebony to be too concerned with the Pride Gala. “It’s… a lot.”
Wes nods, his lips turning down a tic, “I bet. I mean, you’re like, the glue of WE. And you’re only seventeen.”
If Tim wasn’t a Bat, he’s pretty sure he would have faltered in his step. But Tim is a Bat and so instead, his eyes just flick to Wes’s for a fraction of a second.
It’s true. He is only seventeen. But Tim feels much, much older than that some days. He feels older than Jason, older than Dick, older than Bruce. (But maybe not older than Alfred, who has the wisdom of the gods, really.)
“Yeah.” He swallows. His throat suddenly feels dry. “I am.”
Wes senses this sudden turn, and he gently elbows Tim in the ribs. “Hey,” he says. “You’re doing great. I mean, I couldn’t do half of what you do. It’s honestly exhausting to think about. My mom watches the news every morning before we go to work, and WE stock is way higher since you took over. Still, you could stand to act more like a teenager.”
“I could, huh?” He chuckles, but his mind is clouded. He thinks of how he was when he was eleven, ten, nine. He thinks of absent parents and empty mansions with empty pantries.
“Totally,” Wes nods emphatically. “We’ll work on it. We’ll– we’ll— I dunno, go to a stupid B movie or go to a carnival that took only twelve hours of set up, or something. Something normal dangerous, and not Gotham dangerous. And we’ll play dumb carnival games and spend too much money trying to win rigged games, and we’ll ride rides that are held together with duct tape.”
Tim’s lips quirk up. What Wes is describing sounds remarkably like a date. His heart sings at the idea, and his brain points out all the moments of Wes’s blushing and stuttering, like he was nervous around a crush. And Tim hopes.
God, he hopes.
“A carnival, huh?” he asks, and chickens out of suggesting that it’s a date. Because all the signals that Wes has given could be nerves from speaking with the CEO of the company he works at, the company his mother works at. “My brother might be a little offended over your description of a carnival, though.”
“He was in the circus, not the carnival. It’s totally different.” Wes shakes his head and slams his hand into the last call button for the crosswalk before they’ll be on the correct block for Chopsticks. As they wait, a few other Gothamites join them at the sidewalk corner.
“Is it?” he muses, even though he can hear Dick in his head outlining all the differences between a carnival and a circus.
“It totally is,” Wes insists. “C’mon, dude. I live in the most— I live in the middle of nowhere. All we have is the yearly carnival. I think I’d know. We did have a circus, once, but. It was this whole thing.”
“A whole thing?”
“Yeah.” Wes winces. “It was some scheme to steal jewelry, or whatever. So now we just have the carnival when it comes to town.”
Huh, interesting. Maybe he’d have to check that out, just to get his mind off Ebony for a while.
“Well, that sucks. What town are you from again?”
The light switches from an angry orange hand to a cheerful, white stick figure in the middle of walking. Wes answers as they begin to cross the street, “I’m from Amity Park, Illinois. It’s the middle of nowhere, like I said. But we did have Ember McLain come for a concert, once!”
Tim already knew he was from Amity Park, IL. And Tim knows a lot more than what Wes has told him, too. There’s so much a person can discover from just the internet and a phone number. Well, that, and Tim has access to a lot of employee information.
“Ember McLain?” he asks in surprise. He hasn’t done that much research into Amity, just enough to know more about Wes. But a town that size having a big-name celebrity like Ember come for a concert? That was odd.
Wes nods, “Yeah, it was really cool. A fan did almost fall off a billboard, though. Which, really. Dumb as hell. Could never be me.”
They reach the restaurant and enter, and as it’s a seat-yourself restaurant, Tim leads Wes over to an empty booth in the back corner of the establishment, where they will be less likely to be noticed. It’s dimly lit, but Tim can still make out every one of Wes’s freckles. Once they sit, they each grab a menu from the menu stand at the table and talk as they peruse their food options.
“That’s scary,” Tim comments idly, already planning to search for a newspaper article about the incident. “Did you go to the concert?” Did you see it?
“Yeah,” Wes says. “Pretty much everyone did. The guy was one of my classmates.”
“Sounds traumatizing.”
“He was fine. Dumb, though. Like I said, could never be me. His girlfriend was pissed, though. Or, well. Friend. They’re dating now. But not at the time. Sorry, that’s probably boring.”
“Ah,” Tim says. Small-town drama is fascinating. “Not at all! I want to hear more about your life.”
Wes looks away. His blush is somehow more noticeable in the dark than in Gotham’s poor excuse of sunlight. Tim hopes it means crush and not embarrassed to only have small-town stories. ���Really?” he asks.
“Really,” Tim reassures. “Honestly, we don’t get that kind of close-knit knowledge of neighbors in a place like Gotham. We just know about every villain’s drama, which. Less fun than knowing which of your classmates was a creepy celebrity-stalker.”
Tim is sure that he’s the classmate in this scenario. Which, well. Is unfortunate. But his first meeting with Wes was through mugging! Clearly, his friend needed to be looked after.
“Haha,” Wes giggles nervously, and Tim’s heart lurches in his chest. Cute! “I guess that’s fair. Okay, so there’s this guy—” Tim’s heart then stops, “—who is, like, obsessed with one of my classmates. Bully type, you know? It’s totally because he’s in love with him.”
Tim’s heart hesitantly begins beating again. “Oh?”
Wes nods, “For sure. I mean, you don’t give that amount of attention to someone unless you like them. We’re both on the basketball team, but Dash’s main focus is on football. Naturally. Anyway, he started getting tutoring from the kid’s older sister just to be around him more. Embarrassing, really. And pathetic. Just admit you’re gay and move on. And you’re not five anymore; pig-tail pulling is not the way to go. But he’s toned down a lot on the bullying since his parents divorced and his mom got custody, so. There’s that, I guess.”
“That’s good,” Tim says, and thinks, Please keep talking. Please stay with me.
“Yeah, I guess. Maybe he’ll finally realize that his best friend is super in love with him and they’ll get together.”
Tim looks at Wes and says, “Yeah, maybe.”
xxXxx
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