#now she wants to pretend to be Mother of the Year and offer me money and shit to 'help' me fuck off fuckofffuckofffff

[allysunny]

Pls pls pls friends to lovers with an ass load of pining!!! I love the trope where literally everyone but her can see that he’s in love with her and they’re basically dating without the title. She’s in love with him too but a little more guarded/scared. They have fun traditions like a book club, and Bruce gives her the princess treatment. Pls pls pls, I’d literally love you forever if you wrote this

Obliviously in Love | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 15k words

Warnings: Friends to lovers, pining, two idiots in love but way too blind to see it, Alfred being a very sassy butler (I love Michael Cane sm), possibly OOC Bruce (I've never written for him before), some angst, love confessions, Christmas! and mistletoe, eventual romance of course! Not beta, we die like Harvey Dent.

A/N: Hey everyone!!! Sorry for the delay, but as I told you, uni was kicking my ass. I'm back now, and hopefully I'll be able to write a lot!

So, this is my first Bale!Bruce request, and I'm so excited, but at the same time I'm super, super nervous because I've never written for this man in my entire life? I love this trilogy so bad and even rewatched all the movies as I was doing this, because I wanted to make sure I got him right. Sure, he's a vigilante and a billionaire and a supposed playboy, but he's also just a man, and I sort of wanted to explore that.

There's so many layers to this man, it is insane. If there's anything OOC about him, please do let me know. I swear to god I tried my best, and I hope you like the finished result.

This is my longest word so far - I'm so sorry! It was supposed to be kinda short and sweet but I just ran with it! I don't know if it was for the better or worst, but I hope you guys like it nevertheless. Again, I'm sorry if it's somewhat OOC, I tried to get everyone's personalities just right. I'm scared of not doing these movies justice. I also took some liberties with this - Bruce and Rachel don't have feelings for each other, Bruce often goes to charity galas, etc. Small things.

Also, it's set somewhat in between Batman Begins and The Dark Knight!

Anyways, enjoy!

Bruce Wayne was a lonely man.

Not that he minded, really.

Ever since he was a child, he knew most people were after him and his family for the money. Family friends cashing in favours done ages ago, things as small as having once lent his father an umbrella, women pretending to befriend his mother to accompany her whenever she went shopping, kids at school getting closer to him only to get a peek at the famed Wayne Manor and all the wonders it hid inside.

He'd rather be alone than have such leeches around him, surrounding him like vultures, waiting for an opening.

Kids who'd mocked him would apologise profusely days later, having learned about his family, offering their friendship. Once Bruce made it clear he had no intentions of inviting anyone to his place (he was just shy, really), they'd take back their so called “friendship”.

He was better off without such people.

They were few, the people he could trust. And even those he called his “friends”, he didn't trust completely. His childhood best friend, Rachel, had grown up and busied herself at the DA’s office. She reached out to him after he’d returned after all those years in training, but she was a busy woman, and Bruce had found a new passion himself – patrolling the streets of Gotham dressed up as a bat. They would talk often, but it simply wasn’t the same. They were still friends of course – childhood could link two people – but he’d changed, and so had she. No matter how well they got along, they were changed people.

So, he was back to square one, with no people to truly confide in.

There was, after all, a reason only Alfred knew of his secret identity.

No, Bruce Wayne wasn't a stranger to loneliness.

He preferred the peace and quiet of his home office to the loud ambiences of the parties thrown by pretentious people who wanted to pass by as charitable, and found that sometimes, being by himself was a better option.

Bruce Wayne could count with his hands how many “friends” he had, and how many were simply greedy bloodsuckers trying to get to his fortune.

All but you, though.

Never you.

Bruce met you a few years ago, at the bakery you used to work at.

He wasn't a regular - hell, he didn't usually eat at places like those. Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, dined at the best restaurants - a truth universally acknowledged.

But after being stuck in traffic for about thirty minutes (he'd sent Alfred on a makeshift vacation, having miraculously been able to convince the old man to take some time for himself), he decided to exit the cab and go for a stroll.

It'd been a stressing day, with about a hundred reports coming in for him to sign at Wayne Enterprises, the prototypes for his new motorcycle had proved to be a failure, and he was simply exhausted. A walk would do him good, clear his head.

That's when he walked by the bakery, noticing the colourfully decorated cupcakes and pastries on the shelves. The pastel-coloured frostings seemed far too pretty to eat, and curiosity got the best of him, compelling him to go inside and purchase one.

That's when he first saw you.

You took a while to take his order, quickly informing him you were working all by yourself. One of your coworkers was in labour, the other on vacation. You were baking, cleaning and waitressing on your own.

Bruce was surprised, to say the least. You were taking over each station, keeping calm even under pressure and tending to each task diligently.

When asked who baked the frosted treats, you smiled and told him you baked those yourself. Apparently, it was your first time exposing them, the owner of the bakery finally giving you some leeway to try your own cakes and sweets.

“No one's tried them yet, though,” you said, sheepishly. “People don’t really want to try anything new. They’re scared my food is going to suck. I keep telling myself they’re just scared of change, you know. To keep my spirits high.”

“I hear that,” Bruce replied. If he knew anything about people, it was that they were all terrified of the unknown. “It’s Gotham – what can you do? You bump into lunatics every other day. I’ll have the one on the shop window, the one with the pink frosting.”

Your eyes sparkled then, and Bruce swore he’d do anything to see them shine again and again.

“Really?” you asked, a hopeful smile playing in your lips.

“Absolutely. It looks good.”

You gave him an enthusiastic nod and went to retrieve the cupcake, placing it on top of a small place along with a fork. He paid for the treat along with a cup of coffee and sat down on a nearby table.

Unlocking his phone, he found a few messages from Alfred, asking him if he hadn't burnt down the Manor yet. Sure, maybe he couldn't cook nor clean nor take care of himself that well, but that didn't warrant a fire brigade to go check up on him, now did it?

Burned to the ground, he texted back in a joking manner. All that's left are the red slippers I gave to you last Christmas. Hadn't you lost them? It's a miracle.

Alfred replied just as quickly.

Should've let them burn too. Hideous things.

Bruce chuckled, assuring his trusted butler all was well, and locking his phone once again.

If he looked from the corner of his eye, he could see you, nervously chewing on your lip while you looked at his plate expectantly.

Right, he thought. The cupcake.

Bruce tasted the coffee first, deciding it was far better than whatever he was drinking at his office, and slowly cut the cupcake with his fork (because why would he use his hands). HIs eyes widened once he finally bit into it.

It was good, really good. It tasted like strawberries - not that artificial strawberry flavoured crap he was sure was in most of the food out there - actual strawberries.

The frosting was sugary, but not too much that it became nauseous, and the mix of flavours melted in his mouth.

You’d approached him, breath hitched as you awaited his verdict.

“So?” You asked, after a while, giving him an apologetic smile. “How is it?”

“It’s good.”

“Really?” You graced him with the brightest of smiles, holding onto your little notepad. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Way to go, Bruce. Not corny at all. You’re the man.

Pulling the chair next to him, you sighed in relief and sat down.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me. I was so scared no one was gonna like them.”

“The people of Gotham are idiots if they don’t want to try these.” He took another bite of his cupcake and your smile only got bigger.

“Well, you said it. It’s Gotham. Even something as simple as a different coffee order will get their panties in a twist. Look at how everyone reacted to that Bat guy. He takes out a few criminals and cleans the streets, and suddenly he’s the bad guy?” you inquire.

“Bat guy?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know! Bat guy! They’re calling him the Batman. You’ve probably seen him on TV. Black cape, black cowl, black, well, clothes?”

“Ah,” he nodded, “The Batman, yes. I might have heard of him.” Might have. “What’s his deal anyway? I think the police are calling the guy a criminal.”

You scoffed, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. “A criminal? The guy’s doing a better job than most cops. I think they’re just jealous. And pissed that someone’s not up for briberies.”

Bruce nodded, before turning to his cupcake. You thought what Batman did was right. He brimmed with pride.

“I don’t know – he sounds like your typical Arkham resident to me. Dressed like a bat, running around with a black cape?” It was practically wired into his brain by now, the way he attempted to detach his Bruce Wayne persona from his Batman one. Even if he’d just met you, even if you seemed genuine, he couldn’t help but keep up the façade. “They should probably lock him up.”

“That’s nonsense!” you exclaimed. “He’s the only one willing to do something right for this city. The only one who’s not being compensated by turning a blind eye to criminals like half of the GCPD are. The streets are safer with him around.”

So, he made you feel safe.

Well, not him – Batman did.

Bottom line was, he made you feel safe.

And wasn’t that the reason for all of this? To make Gotham a better place? To clean the streets, to give people some hope in amidst all the chaos and darkness? Wasn’t that his goal – to give Gotham citizens their city back to them, and allow them to live unruled by fear? 

“Anyway - I’m sorry, here I am, sitting next to you while you probably want to eat by yourself. Gosh, I’m so sorry. Taking care of the shop by myself makes me feel a tad lonely.” You gave him another apologetic smile (although this one did not reach your eyes), and got up, hurrying behind the counter.

For a few moments, Bruce sat in silence, eating his cupcake, and sipping from his coffee. Good stuff – nothing like the ones Alfred prepared for him, but still good.

When he glanced back up, he watched as you quickly washed some dishes, brow furrowed in concentration. He took you all in, the way you carefully rinsed every dish, ensuring it was stable on the tray nearby before moving onto the next one. Once or twice, you looked up, observing the city through the windows. He saw you sigh softly and get back to work.

To say he was intrigued was an understatement. A big one.

It wasn’t only that you were strikingly beautiful – that helped too, quite a lot – but there was something more to you that Bruce couldn’t really pinpoint and wanted to get to know more of. He was tired of fake people. Of all the fake smiles and fake laughter and fake parties and having to pretend he was someone he simply wasn’t. It was all for the greater good, sure, but hiding behind a mask was draining. No one knew that better than Bruce Wayne.

Before he realised it, he’d stood up, placing his plate and cup on top of the counter. The soft “clack” of it made you turn around and your eyes widened slightly.

“Oh – “ you mumbled. “It’s okay, I usually just do that.”

“Lifting a cup and a plate won’t kill me, I assure you.”

You chuckled and took the dishes, turning to the sink.

“You’re not at all like what people say.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not like they describe you,” you said with a small shrug. A strand of hair fell from behind your ear and Bruce’s hand twitched slightly, perhaps wishing to tuck it back himself.

“So you know who I am?” he asked, a curious smile forming in his lips. He wasn’t expecting to be completely ignorant of him – hell, it’s impossible to be unaware of his existence when you live in Gotham.

“I have a television and friends who love gossip magazines. It’s preposterous to think of a person who hasn’t come across your face, considering it’s slapped in nearly every tabloid ever.” You chuckled, soaking his plate. “And there was the matter of your credit card – I thought American Express was a myth.”

Bruce remained silent, which prompted you to go on.

“Everyone says you’re an arrogant jerk – “ The words come out of your mouth before you can process them, and he chuckles mentally, finding the way you stumbled over your words quite amusing. “I mean, that’s what they say – I’m not saying that you’re one, I just – I’m just repeating what’s been told to me. Anyway, yeah. You don’t seem like that at all.”

“And what makes you say that? We’ve spoken for all but five minutes,” he cocked an eyebrow, eagerly awaiting your answer.

You think for a while, gripping the towel at your hands and shrug again.

“I don’t know.” You turn to him. “Call it intuition, but I just felt like you were being genuine. I mean, you don’t have a bazillion models hanging off your arms – and it looked like you walked all the way here. No fancy sports car like the ones in the magazines either.” Another shrug. “You just seemed like a random guy when you walked in. No fancy titles whatsoever.”

Just a random guy.

Sometimes it felt like such a thing was unattainable for Bruce.

In front of the cameras, he had to be spoiled, rich, reckless playboy Bruce who bought hotels on a whim, hung around with hot models and spent his money on useless luxuries such as cars and yachts. When no one was watching, he had the weight of Gotham in his shoulders as Batman, sacrificing his mind and body every night just to make sure his people were safe.

It was impossible for Bruce to be just a random guy, no matter how much he wanted to.

But the way you said it – like you truly believed it – made him think twice about it.

You weren’t grovelling at his feet. Nor were you pretending not to know him as many others had done, in order to appear mysterious and different, and therefore catch his attention. No, you were just being you – or what he hoped was you. You knew who he was, admitted to seeing his face and knowing of his affairs, but that didn’t stop you from treating him like a normal person.

Just a random guy.

“Or maybe I’m just biased because you liked my cupcakes.” There it was again, that lovely smile of yours.

And you were funny too.

“I’ll admit, that was my tactic all along.” Bruce allowed a hint of playfulness to tint his voice, and your smile widened at that.

“Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Wayne.”

“Please, just Bruce.”

“Alright then. Your secret is safe with me, Bruce.” You smiled and went back to cleaning the counter. (You half expected him to leave without saying a word – why’d a billionaire entertain your company for more than a few minutes? – and were surprised when he stayed.)

“I’m sorry if I’m crossing a line here, but,” he started, “Would you like to join me for lunch one of these days?”

You eyed him curiously and cocked your head to the side, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Me? Really?”

“Exactly you.”

“Why? I don’t exactly belong with your people, Bruce – whoever they might be.”

“I was actually just hoping I’d get some free cupcakes.”

At this, you snorted out loud, covering your mouth with your hand. The other clients in the bakery looked at you with a slightly disgusted face, and it only made you laugh louder.

Once you stopped giggling (and after having wiped some tears from your eyes), you nodded and turned to him.

“Alright, fine. Lunch sounds great. Although – I’m sure you’re followed everywhere. And I don’t really want to be the latest gossip magazine cover.” You crossed your arms. Bruce nodded in understanding. After all, he knew how troublesome the media could be, especially when they were looking for any crumbs that might get them any insight into someone’s life.

(Un)fortunately for him, they couldn’t see past the playboy persona.

“I’ll take care of that – don’t worry.” Was his honest response. “Let’s say it’s easy for me to… become invisible.”

You leaned against the counter, smile ever so present.

“And how are you going to do that? Gonna wear a cap and sunglasses? A wig? Do we get to wear disguises? Maybe you could wear a mask!” Funny.

“I’ll just leave the American Express at home. Do you think that new Pizza place everyone’s been talking about accepts hundreds?” Bruce joked.

Your snort resonated through the bakery again, and the couple that had glanced at you earlier left, shaking their heads and muttering something about “decorum”.

The rest was history.

You and Bruce had become inseparable from that day onward.

Turns out that around you, he could be just a random guy, like he always wanted.

He started going to your bakery more and more, and convinced your boss to let you experiment with your cupcakes however you wanted.

“How the hell did you manage that?” you asked him, mouth open in wonder. “She told me I had full control of the menu! Two weeks ago, she said she didn’t want to try my sweets!”

“I’m very persuasive,” he replied, biting into a banana flavoured muffin – one of your more recent experiments. “It’s a bit chunky. Kind of bland, doesn’t melt on your mouth like the others do.”

“Yeah, I think I went overboard with the flour…” you mumble, writing something down on your notepad. “Anyways, how persuasive can you be? This woman has drunk the same cup of coffee for like, 40 years. She hates change.”

“Let’s just say I worked my regular Wayne charm.”

At that, you rolled your eyes and hit him with your towel but couldn’t hide the smile that graced your lips.

He’d stop by every day after work, eager to try out your new recipes and have a nice chat. It was freeing to have someone he could call his friend, with whom he could have conversations that weren’t about his job, his money, or his other affairs. It felt nice to be able to share things with you, things he couldn’t find it in himself to share with other people.

It took him a while, but he eventually told you things about himself. Slowly.

He told you about his parents, how much he looked up to his father and how he adored his mother. He told you about his childhood, playing in the gardens of his Manor or watching his father fiddle with the stethoscope, hoping one day he could make a difference just like him. He told you how sometimes he would just watch his mother apply makeup in her face, marvelling at how beautiful she looked. Other women of the high society always looked like they had this world and the next worth of makeup on their faces, but his mother was able to enhance all her natural features with a simple eye pencil or some lipstick.

“Makeup shouldn’t be used to turn yourself into something new,” she’d once told him, applying some sort of clear powder on her face. “Just to complement the beauty you already have.”

He found it easy to relate to that. Not the makeup, necessarily, but the whole “turning into a new person”. Batman was no different than him, nor was he someone different. He just brought out Bruce’s biggest desires, to keep Gotham safe.

In return, you told him about your childhood. About your first years in school, your friends and family. You told him about your passions, your wishes. How you wanted to travel the world and read as many books as possible. How you liked to laze around some Saturdays but couldn’t stay home and just had to get up and leave in others.

Bruce found the duality in you quite entrancing.

Some days, you’d be running around the Manor, goofing around with Alfred, and whipping up new recipes with him, the both of you jamming to old jazz that played on the radio – Alfred had been teaching you swing, and you enjoyed spinning around the room with him as lively tunes played.

(In fact, Bruce had walked in on you and him dancing a few times, and couldn’t help but lean against the doorway, watching and you laughed loudly and tried not to fall whenever his butler spun you around.)

It also went without saying that Alfred was over the moon now that his master no longer seemed to be alone. You might only be one person, but the Manor came alive whenever you were in it, and he relished in knowing Bruce finally had someone he could trust besides himself.

At first, Bruce thought of you as a friend. Someone he could confide in, someone to have a good time with and relax. But as weeks turned to months, he found himself developing stronger feelings. It wasn’t about “having fun” and relaxing anymore, it was now about seeing you, making sure you were alright, listening to your every thought and feelings.

He thought it was normal, though. After all, aren’t friends supposed to care for each other and be eager to spend time together? After all, it had been a while since he had friends. At least ones that spoke to him on the regular, that were there for him. This whole thing was new to him. So, he kept these feelings hidden, convinced they were nothing but the norm, enjoying whatever silly activities you engaged in.

You two had, after all, your own little rituals.

You loved reading – always had, and believed to continue doing so until you were dead and buried. And despite not having a lot of time to do so, Bruce did too. So, it wasn’t long before you two created your own little book club along with Alfred.

You would prepare a batch of cookies, Alfred would make some tea, and Bruce would wait by the fireplace in the living room, since there was really nothing he could contribute with but his insight on the books you were reading.

“So, what’d you think?” he asked, taking a sip from his tea, and placing the mug on the coffee table by his feet.

“I think it was terrible.” You replied.

Bruce nearly spat the drink in his mouth.

“Excuse me?!”

“I said what I said – it was a terrible book.”

“I think you’re the first person ever to call The Great Gatsby a ‘terrible book’.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at Alfred, who was intent on hearing whatever you were going to say next. He too was quite curious, but he had an inkling he knew where you were going with this.

You just shrugged your shoulders and brought your legs to your chair, sitting on top of them. You felt at home in Wayne Manor. Bruce had told you to make yourself comfortable after the third time you visited, and you wasted no time in doing so.

“Jay Gatsby is one pretentious motherfucker,” you say.

“Language!” Alfred tutted.

“Sorry – I meant; Jay Gatsby is one pretentious douchebag.” You bowed your head towards Alfred and the butler nodded in acknowledgment.

“Wait – why?”

“Are you kidding me?” All you could do was scoff. “Gatsby is an obsessive narcissist, an egocentric pathological liar who cares about no one else other than himself, and much probably, a psychopath.”

Bruce was perplexed. Very much so.

“I – I – well. I see.”

“And the way he objectifies Daisy throughout the whole book – he doesn’t even love her! He loves the idea of her. He’s a jerk.”

Bruce couldn’t even interrupt you, because you were on a spree, gesticulating with your arms and talking fast.

“But let’s be honest here, it’s not like she loves him either.”

“She doesn’t?”

“Of course not! She’s a shallow, materialistic, spoiled brat and I can’t stand her!” You finished your little speech by taking a bite out of a cookie and crossing your arms.

“Huh. Right.” Bruce said, grabbing his copy of the book. “Well, I thought it was a great book. And I don’t think Gatsby is any of the things you said.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really. I think he is a misunderstood soul.”

You scoffed. Again.

“He’s a misunderstood ass – “

“Language – “

“He is Alfred!”

“Yes, but you aren’t, and I would like to keep this household clean, for dear Master and Missus Wayne’s sake.” He replied casually, giving you that look you’d learn to interpret as “do not test me you silly little baker, for I am British and have the high ground”, and to which you just stuck your tongue out.

Bruce ignored the both of you and continued.

“And, well, I think he truly did love Daisy.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No, no, and here’s why, he did everything for her.”

“Name one thing.”

“Well, he waited five whole years for her. I think that’s rather romantic. He went great lengths to impress Daisy and win her love. The parties, the money, his whole persona – it wasn’t him, but he did it all for Daisy.” Bruce explained calmly. Alfred looked at him with raised eyebrows and just sipped from his teacup quietly.

“Bruce, the whole thing was a circus.” You reached in front of you to grab another cookie and took a bite out of it, missing the way your friend’s gaze dropped to your lips and then returned to your eyes in just a millisecond. “He was just showing off.”

“Perhaps,” Bruce said, “But perhaps he was just trying to be someone worthy of her. I’m sure love can make people do crazy things.” He wasn’t one to talk. It’s not like he knew what “love” was. He’d crushed on Rachel as kids, but that’s all it was, a silly childhood crush.

Perhaps the love he had for his city could count. He did do crazy things for it. Dressing up as a bat was an example.

You nodded your head a few times, pondering his answer.

“Maybe, yeah. But I don’t think so. If he loved her, he should’ve just said it. There was no need for all the show.”

Alfred raised his eyebrows once again. A very you-ish reply. He was enjoying this immensely.

Bruce replayed her words in his head. He should’ve said it. Surely, it wasn’t that easy. Jay Gatsby wasn’t your average man. He was a mystery. He had secrets and things he needed to hide. It wasn’t as easy as just walking up to Daisy and telling her “I love you”. It wasn’t that simple. “You think so?” he asked.

“Well, yeah! Absolutely – I mean, why complicate things?” you replied. “He should’ve just dropped the luxuries, the parties, he should’ve just stopped with all of the eccentric millionaire thing, looked her in the eyes and say, ‘I love you’. Simple.”

"Absolutely! I mean, why complicate things? Just look someone in the eyes and say, ‘I love you.’ Simple.”

“Simple, huh?”

You nodded, taking another sip from your tea – you drank it sickeningly sweet, with lots of honey, while he preferred one or two spoons of sugar.

“Yeah. Simple. No need for the fancy parties, and mysterious acts. Just be genuine.”

“That’s an interesting perspective,” he mumbled. “But sometimes people have reasons for not saying what’s in their hearts. Sometimes they must hide their feelings.” It was true. You didn’t know he was Batman – you couldn’t. He needed to keep you safe. All you knew was that he worked a lot, plenty of times exhausting himself and arriving home super late. It was for the best.

Alfred hummed thoughtfully, which earned him a curious look from the both of you.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Please, do continue,” he said, gesturing for you to go on.

You gave him a weird look but simply turned to face Bruce once again.

“Reasons? Like what?”

Bruce couldn’t look you in the eye now. He shrugged and got suddenly very interested by the coffee table by his feet.

“Fear, maybe. Fear of what might happen if they open up. Fear of losing someone precious.”

You hummed, “Well, in my book, it’s always better to be honest and take the risk. Life’s too short for illusions. If Gatsby had just said it, maybe things would’ve been different. Who knows? But I still think he was one pompous son of a bitch.” You leaned back in your chair with a smug grin and finished the rest of your tea.

Alfred just excused himself and made his way towards the kitchen.

You certainly did bring some life into this once empty house.

You were lazing around in a Sunday afternoon, mindlessly scrolling your phone as a rerun of a show you liked played on TV. Even after a few years, it could still get some laughs out of you, and you’d look at the screen and smile.

All of a sudden, the couch dipped next to you.

Bruce had jumped over it, and landed next to you, sitting down comfortably, as if parkouring around Wayne Manor was something he did on the regular.

“Shit! Holy – Bruce!” You nearly jumped out of your seat, clutching your chest. Sometimes you wondered if Bruce wasn’t some sort of ninja. Being able to hide himself and be so silent wasn’t normal, and at times, to be frank, a little bit creepy.

He acted as if nothing was wrong and turned to you.

“Friday night, charity gala, you and me,” he said, matter-of-factly, as if he’d simply asked you what the weather was like outside.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, the Carringtons are throwing a big party this Friday. It’s supposed to be this big fundraiser. The profits will go for new police facilities. As if those corrupt idiots needed them…” He sighed. “And clearly, Bruce Wayne must attend. And, as expected, he has to bring someone.”

You whined and threw your head back in frustration. You’d been to a couple of galas with Bruce. Most of them were dreadfully boring, filled with fake people whose only purpose there was to flaunt their money and pretend to care about whatever topics seemed most controversial. You hated them. The fake smiles, the gross men leering on you, the women shamelessly throwing themselves at Bruce (not that you minded. After all, you two were just friends. It just made you uncomfortable that they were so forward about his advances. Clearly, he wasn’t alone. He had you. Could they not see it? But of course, you two were just friends. Which meant you weren’t jealous. You just felt sorry for them, and extremely uncomfortable whenever they looked at, spoke to, or touched him. Duh.)

“I can’t go.”

Bruce grimaced.

“Why?”

“I’m busy. Sorry Bruce, I have plans.” What a liar.

Your friend smirked and nudged his head towards the kitchen.

“Alfred checked your schedule – you’re free for the next two weeks.”

Your jaw dropped and you looked back at the kitchen, where Alfred innocently prepared a few sandwiches.

“Damn him! I swear that man must’ve been a British spy!” you muttered, shaking your head.

“So, are you coming with me?” Bruce pressed on.

“I can’t – I have to return some videotapes.” You replied smugly.

Bruce gave you a dry laugh and threw a pillow in your direction, which you failed to dodge.

“Very funny. I’m serious – I can’t go by myself. Look, I know what this is going to sound like, but the Carringtons are only doing this to show off. They don’t care about the police; they want to show Gotham just how rich their grandfather’s money has made them. They’ve been around for years and never once donated – why now?”

“Just because you have to go, doesn’t mean that I have!” you too threw a pillow at him, but as always, his reflexes were on point, and he managed to catch it mid-air.

“Look, you’d be doing me a huge favour.”

“I have literally nothing to wear.”

Bruce gave you a blank stare – that excuse did not stick anymore, not after he’d bought you a different dress for each party he had taken you to (“Think of it as a thank you gift”, he said).

“Just take a model. Or an actress. Or some other celebrity. You know me Bruce, I don’t belong with those people. They’re not my crowd.” You grabbed another pillow and prepared to throw it at him.

“I can’t stand another night of pretending to spend my free time buying hotels and yachts.” Bruce said your name softly and you let your guard down, lowering your arm. “It’s not me, and you know it.” You looked into those chocolate brown eyes that seemed to have soften – those eyes of his always made you melt, and you often found yourself saying yes to his every whim.

You pondered your choices.

He could take a model or an actress. The headlines would love speculating who the hell was Bruce Wayne messing around with this time. He’d have to pretend to be someone he was not for a whole evening – though you didn’t know why; only that, for some reason, he had a reputation to upkeep – and the next morning you’d wake up and seethe as you watched the shots paparazzi got of your best friend and some random floozy slobbering on top of him.

Or, you could go with him. It’d be a pain in the ass to pretend to like all of those people and to interact with those phony idiots who thought money was worth anything and would try their best to snake their ways in Bruce’s close circle. But you’d spend a nice evening with your friend, wear a pretty dress, drink some expensive champagne and be able to laugh at everyone else with him. There were worse fates than that, you were sure.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll come with you.”

Bruce did a small “yes” gesture with his arm, and then grabbed a nearby pillow. “Now, where were we?”

“Oh – OH don’t you dare, Bruce Wayne!” You lifted your arm once again, but before you could throw the pillow in his direction, he’d grabbed your arm and pulled you to him. You fell on top of his body, hands on either side of his head as they bore the weight of your body. Your face was inches away from his, and all you could do was stare into those brown eyes that had you so weak.

You blinked repeatedly, before quickly getting up. Your cheeks were flaring up and you grabbed your phone, standing up from the couch.

Bruce, on his end, was speechless. He watched as you stood up, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“I – I should go. I need to… yeah, I gotta – I gotta do something. I’ll see you later.” You mumbled, and within seconds, you were out the door.

When you were gone, Alfred left the kitchen and walked towards the couch where Bruce was sitting, still silently staring at the wall.

“Is everything alright, Master Wayne?” he asked, although he didn’t really need an answer. He knew exactly what was going on with him. After all, he’d raised this boy like his own son for years.

“Yes,” Bruce cleared his throat, nodding. “Yes, yes, I am. Everything’s fine. How about those sandwiches you were making?” He tried changing the topic, but it was too late.

As Alfred walked back to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but think that he should probably schedule an optometrist appointment for his master. After all, one can’t help but be concerned when such a smart, capable man was so blind to matters of the heart. Almost as blind as a bat, one could say. He’d keep this joke for later. Bruce would hate it. Even better.

Funnily enough, Alfred wasn’t the only one who thought Bruce was blind to his feelings.

In fact, it seemed like everyone could see how smitten the Wayne billionaire was with you.

When you two went out, he would look at you with this sparkle in his eyes, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

You walked into the party, arm linked with his, and it was as if the whole world stopped to look at you two.

Everyone knew about your existence – it wasn’t the first time you accompanied Bruce to parties – Bruce Wayne and his close friend. Friend. Yeah, sure. If the glances he stole were any indication, the Wayne heir was nothing but completely enamoured with you. In fact, it was incredible how much he’d changed. His whole attitude changed when he was accompanied by you. No longer was he the reckless billionaire who drank too much and humiliated himself, but the elegant man who liked to engage in conversations (as long as the topics were interesting) and had a heart of gold.

Yes, everyone seemed to spot the change in demeanour whenever you two were together.

“Bruce!” A voice could be heard from the distance, and Rachel Dawes made her way towards the both of you. She smiled and spoke your name once she noticed you were the one accompanying her childhood friend, before hugging you. “Oh, it’s so nice to see you here!”

You hugged her back and gave her a genuine smile. You’d met Rachel before more than a few times – she was a lovely young woman with a great sense of justice, and you were sure she was going to do great things for Gotham’s wellbeing. You also enjoyed her company greatly, since she had once told you all of the embarrassing stories about Bruce’s childhood. “I had no idea you were going to be here!”

“Yeah, well,” she looked around and smiled, seemingly looking for someone. “I was just as surprised as you were.”

Then, a very familiar face emerged from the crowd, calling out “Rachel!” and walking to her side.

“There you were – you left so abruptly; I thought something was wrong.” The man said, before turning to look at you and Bruce. You took him in. Dirty blond hair and a familiar cleft chin. You furrowed your eyebrows, before it finally clicked in.

“You’re Harvey Dent – I’ve seen you on TV before,” you said, and he smiled in acknowledgement.

“That would be me, yes.” He put forward his hand, and you shook it, introducing yourself.

Harvey then turned to look at Bruce, extending his hand to him.

“And you must be Bruce Wayne. Rachel talks about you a lot.”

Bruce shook it and nodded.

“Hopefully she hasn’t disclosed everything about me, otherwise I’d be ruined.”

The two men chuckled, and you took that opportunity to look at Rachel. You looked from her to Harvey, opened your mouth and wiggled your eyebrows, earning a laugh from her. Rachel moved to your side as Bruce and Harvey spoke about Gotham and took your arm.

“Well, well, Miss Dawes. Is there anything you’d like to tell us?” you asked in a hushed tone, still wiggling your eyebrows up and down. “How’d you meet?”

“At work. Harvey is running for district attorney. One thing led to another, and…” she trailed off, and you nudged her torso with your arm.

“And now you’re shagging future attorney Harvey Dent. Look at you go!”

Rachel covered her mouth with her hands and supressed a scoff.

“You’re unbelievable, and I never want to hear those words coming from your mouth ever! It’s just a casual thing, we’ve only gone on a few dates. Besides, you’re the one attending a charity gala with Gotham’s most eligible bachelor. I think every woman in this room has you on a death list.”

“Pftt,” you waved your hand dismissively, “You know we’re just friends. Nothing for those women to be jealous about.”

“Ah, I see. You’re just friends.” Rachel nodded, feigning seriousness in her voice.

“Yes, we are. Stop with that face!”

“What face?”

“That face you always do,” you motioned towards her face, nearly pouting. “We are! And that’s the end of the discussion! I don’t even know why we’re talking about my non-existent relationship with Bruce when you’re probably going to be First Lady someday – this is huge.”

Rachel swatted you with her purse and returned to Harvey’s side before giving you a cheeky smile – it felt nice to have a girl friend you could talk to in these scenarios. Usually, it was just you and Bruce, which, however pleasant, wasn’t the same thing as having a girl in there. You were happy to catch her off work – Rachel seemed like a different person at the office. While there, she maintained a strong and serious attitude, you were happy to see her when she had no work business to worry about and could simply be a girl with you.

“Well, I’m afraid I’ve wasted too much of your time, Mr. Wayne,” Harvey said, shaking Bruce’s hand again. “It was a pleasure to meet Rachel’s oldest friend.” He then turned to you, “And a pleasure to meet you too, Miss.” “Likewise,” you replied.

Bruce nodded.

“Of course. I’ll be sure to send you a nice bottle of Chardonnay when you’re elected district attorney,” he said in his best careless billionaire voice, and nodded at Rachel before the two walked away. “Who would’ve thought,” he muttered to you, beckoning a butler who was carrying a tray of champagne glasses close to him.

“Well, I think they’re lovely together,” you smiled and grabbed a glass, smiling once the liquid hit your lips. Champagne was always welcome.

“Well, you think everyone looks lovely together. You’re a sap.” You laugh at Bruce’s comment and hold onto his arm. He brings you close, absentmindedly, and the two of you walk around the party, occasionally being stopped by the average donor.

After eating some entrees and mingling with the guests, soft music started to play and ring throughout the room. You looked up, pleasantly surprised, and tugged at Bruce’s arm.

“Come on,”

You didn’t have to tell him twice – he was growing tired of pretending to share the same interests as these vile people. He wanted a respite from keeping the charade up, so he gladly took your hand and led you to the middle of what had become the dancefloor. You two weren’t the only ones in there, a couple more pairs having decided to dance.

Bruce gently held your waist and pulled you close to him, his other hand coming to lift yours.

“Thank you,” he spoke, ignoring the way everyone’s eyes glued onto the two of you.

“I could see you were about to actually punch that man right in the face,” you chuckled, looking at the person in question. He was a middle-aged man who could probably stand to lose a few pounds for the sake of his health, who was trying to talk Bruce into introducing him a couple of models. You just had to come to the rescue, because Bruce actually looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Thankfully, he was a good actor and simply promised the man he would surely hook him up with the woman of his dreams.

“I think it goes without saying I’m not introducing jack shit to him. I’m pretty sure he’s assaulted his female employers. I should have someone investigate it.”

“My, my. Bruce Wayne, ever the White Knight.” You smiled, and you could swear that for some minutes, the entire world faded away as the soft melodies of Camille Saint-Saëns filled the air.

He snorted at that but did not say anything.

The two of you kept dancing. You found looking into his eyes extremely hard, so you avoided his gaze, looking straight ahead at behind his shoulder continuously.

“I still haven’t told you how beautiful you look tonight,” Bruce finally broke the silence between you two, and you returned his gaze. He’d bought you a floor-length black John Galliano gown with delicate lace trim and a bias cut, and you had actually screamed into your pillow once you saw it – it was far too pretty.

“Thank you,” you reply, brushing some invisible dust from his shoulders. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Bruce lowered his voice and looked you in the eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“I mean it. You do look stunning.”

The two of you stopped dancing for a few moments, and you were unable to look away from his almost magnetic gaze. Time seemed to stand still, and you gripped his shoulder tighter, to make sure you were real, and he was real, and this whole ordeal was real.

He was just about to speak again, when you were interrupted by a loud, shrill voice.

“Mr. Wayne! Oh, what a pleasure to have you here!”

You quickly pulled away from him as Catherine Carrington, a woman in her mid-40s with long, blonde hair approached the both of you and placed two loud kisses on either side of his cheeks. You looked away, trying to figure out how to properly breathe again, and fanned yourself with your hands.

Harrold Carrington, Catherine’s husband walked to her side and shook Bruce’s hand, far too interested in talking to you. You stifled a laugh – whoever was in charge of his wig had tone a terrible job, because it was clear as day his hairline was receding, and the hair he had on was fake.

“Ah, you must be the mysterious friend everyone has been talking about. We’ve seen you around a few times, haven’t we Miss? But I don’t think we’ve properly met – I’m Harrold Carrington. And may I say, you look splendid this evening.”

None of the Carringtons seemed interested in their spouses. Catherine was fawning over Bruce, and Harrold’s eyes lingered far too long on your exposed collarbone and cleavage. So much so, that you turned from him uncomfortably. Bruce was quick to notice your discomfort, and pulled you next to him once again, wrapping a protective arm around your waist.

“I’d appreciate it if you could keep your eyes on the lady’s face, as opposed to her chest, Mr. Carrington,” he said with a smile that you could only identify as fake, and that smug voice he used when he was feeling particularly cocky.

All of the colour drained from Harrold’s face, and he stuttered, trying to form a coherent sentence – which he failed miserably. “I – I, well – I wasn’t – I would never! I – I was just –“

Bruce faced Catherine once again and gave her another fake smile.

“Lovely party Mrs. Carrington. Very nice of you to raise money for the Gotham Police Department. Very charitable, indeed. And the champagne is just splendid. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I heard someone was eating caviar, and it’s not a real party without it, now is it?”

Effortlessly, he brought you away from the couple.

Once you were out of sight, he looked at you with a worried expression.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah – he was just creepy. Shit, I hate galas.”

“Tell me about it,” Bruce sighed, before shaking his head. “How long have we been here for?”

“About two hours.”

“How about we ditch at three? I think it’d be a crime to abandon this party now. Especially when you look this dazzling.”

He was giving you that look once again, the one you couldn’t quite decipher, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

Bruce, on the other hand, was freaking out. You looked lovely, even more so than usual. He’d been dancing with you, and all was perfect, and then that hag Catherine had to go and ruin everything.

Was it too much to ask for a quiet dance with his friend?

Friend.

The word tasted wrong in his mouth.

No, you weren’t his friend. At least not anymore.

He thought about your dance moments earlier. How you’d held onto him, far too shy to look him in the eye, lips slightly parted and eyes sparkly. He thought of how easily you leaned into his touch and how he liked having you by his side.

He thought of how much he enjoyed spending time with you, how much he laughed in your presence, how free he felt when he was with you. He could be himself, something that he felt he couldn’t be anywhere else. You were his safe haven. You were everything.

It was that night Bruce Wayne realised he was in love with you.

One time the both of you went out to do some Christmas shopping.

(“In November?” Bruce had asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Christmas sales have already started! And I bet everyone’s going to start super soon, so we need to get to it!” Was your reply. Bruce could only sigh and agree, like he always did when it came to you.)

Besides, it was the first Christmas you’d be able to spend together after 2 years of friendship. The last two had Bruce way too busy with his company (at least that’s what he told you. In reality, he had been tracking down a few criminals who’d been wreaking havoc days before.

The main point was: after two years of being friends, you would finally get to spend Christmas together. It’s not that you’d suffered those Christmases without him; you had friends and family. But you wanted to spend the holidays with who you now considered to be your closest friend.

Bruce, however, wanted to spend Christmas with the woman he was in love with. He hadn’t found the courage to tell you – not yet. He was afraid of ruining things, of hurting you. So he kept silent, relishing in the friendship the both of you had.

Approaching the mall, you had a small list in your hand, filled with names of everyone you wanted to buy a gift for. He had around five people in mind, so he did not need all those preparations.

Once you were in the crowded mall, Bruce would hold you close to him, shielding you from everyone who might bump into you. His hand would respectfully be in the small of your back, and if he needed you to get out of someone’s way (people who refused to look up from their phones were the worst), he would slide it to your waist and gently pull you towards him.

You’d stopped at a beauty store, wanting to buy a new skin care package for your closest friend at work – heavens knew how badly you needed her to keep you sane – so you’d asked Bruce for his opinion on a myriad of perfumes.

“See, I like this one, but I think the smell is a bit too strong,” you mumbled, squeezing some of the hand lotion’s sample on your hand and applying it there. “Here,” you reached your hand to him, and nearly all the air was sucked out of your lungs when Bruce carefully reached for it, holding your pulse in his and bringing it to his face. His lips nearly brushed against your skin as he took the smell of the lotion in, and at least a dozen of women who were shopping nearby swooned.

Bruce let go of your hand just as gently and you blinked a few times, trying to wake up from your little trance.

“It is a bit strong, yeah. You mentioned she’s got a sensitive nose, so maybe something less floral?”

You were quick to nod and walk away, afraid he’d notice the way your cheeks heat up and your pupils dilated.

Once you turned away from him, focusing on the other hand lotions, he sighed, still feeling a buzzing sensation in his hand. It was as if he could still feel your skin against his, and he had to shake his head to return to the task at hand. Control yourself.

At a clothing store, you held up different sweatshirts next to him, asking for his opinion on a gift to your father. He gave you his earnest opinion, and insisted on carrying all your bags once you were done.

“Bruce – come on, I can carry them. I’m not a baby,” you’d told him, sighing in exasperation.

“Just allow me. You’re still picking up things left and right, it’s better if I carry these for you.”

You two checked out a jewellery shop – you’d been saving up to buy your mom a pair of earrings, and while you busied yourself looking through rows and rows of pairs, looking for the one you had your eyes on, Bruce quickly excused himself, and turned to a shop helper.

Approaching the counter, he placed the delicate pair of pearl earrings next to the cashier, glancing around just to make sure you weren’t paying attention to him.

“Would you like these to be gift wrapped?” The cashier asked.

“Yes please.”

Bruce continued glancing around. You too were speaking to a shop helper, pointing to the delicate pair of gold earrings you wanted to get.

“A gift for a special someone?” The cashier asked once again with a polite smile. Bruce wasn’t dumb. If he were anyone else, this would be a regular, standard question asked by shop clerks to keep a friendly conversation going. But he’s not just anyone else. He’d noticed the way the woman had glanced him up and down with a wishful expression and could bet all his money that if he were to reveal more than necessary, then she would turn to any gossip magazine as soon as he was out the door and spill whatever nonsense she thought it was going on.

He gave her a curt nod, paid for the earrings (now neatly placed inside of a box and wrapped with a pretty red ribbon), and returned to your side, hiding the box inside his jacket’s pocket.

“Did you find them?” he asked once he got to your side, and if it were anyone else, you would’ve jumped, but by now you were used to Bruce. You seemed to lean into his side and smiled, looking at the pair of hoops the shop helper brought to the counter.

“Yeah – she’s gonna love them! I was super scared they’d be sold out Bruce, I’ve been working my ass off to get these. I’m so proud of myself,” your smile was contagious, and Bruce found himself bringing you closer to him by the waist and giving you one of his super rare smiles. Once again, every woman within a five-mile radio sighed, basically eating him up with their eyes. It was no secret Bruce Wayne was a handsome man – not to mention Gotham’s most eligible bachelor – but to see him act so affectionate in public was a completely different thing, and it was clear more than woman had gotten jealous just looking at you.

(Their boyfriends were not happy with the way said women ogled Bruce up and down.)

“I’m proud of you too.” Bruce replied. It was true. You were a hardworking woman, and he beamed with pride at your accomplishments.

Of course he didn’t tell you he bribed the store to keep the earrings stored until you came along to buy them – he wasn’t about to let someone snatch the thing you’d been working so hard to get – but it didn’t matter. You’d earned it.

You grinned at him and reluctantly broke free from his hold.

“I’m gonna go pay for these, meet me outside?”

He nodded and walked outside of the store, hand coming to pat the box inside of his pocket. They’d look incredible with his mother’s pearl necklace, that’s for sure.

He carried your things to the limo, and upon arriving to the Manor, he distracted you with promises of hot chocolate and marshmallows, before handing Alfred the little white box and telling him to keep it a secret. The rest of the evening was spent with the two of you discussing presents, drinking your hot chocolate, and watching some Christmas movies as the wood in the fireplaced cracked piece by piece, enveloping you both in a cozy warmth.

Later that month, the two of you were sitting at an expensive café, having a few treats, and talking about your Christmas shopping. Although the place was very fancy and its prices had shocked you, so had the quality of their food.

“This is garbage,” you said, eyeing the cupcake on your plate. “Holy shit, who baked these? It feels like I’m chewing on a brick!”

“Yours are much better, yes,” Bruce agreed, taking his own cupcake, and looking at it carefully. “And that’s this awful taste?”

“I think she added lemon juice, but it doesn’t work in this recipe, not at all. You’ll see, it’ll basically nullify the sweetness of it, and the whole thing is just gonna taste like one sour cupcake. Gosh, people pay their rent’s worth of money for these?”

Bruce could listen to you talk for hours on end. The way your eyes lit up when you found a topic you were interested in, and how genuinely passionate you were about your hobbies. Your genuineness was something he praised and found himself looking for more and more. In fact, one of the reasons he’d taken you to this specific café was because he knew the cupcakes sucked – he’d eaten there before. He just wanted to hear you talk about them.

An old woman approached your table, wearing a Santa Claus had on top of her head, and a few Christmas related pins on her waitress apron.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked with a smile.

“Oh, no thank you, we’re fine.” You replied, returning it «.

“I see. Well, I’d just like to say, it’s a real gift to see such precious young love.” The woman gestured at the both of you, and your cheeks flared up. “This city can be so dark and gloomy sometimes; it warms my heart to know that love still prevails on top of all. You two are such a lovely couple.”

“We’re –“ you coughed, trying to clear your throat. “We’re not – we’re not a couple.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah, we’re just – we’re just friends!” you were quick to correct her and refused to meet Bruce in the eye.

Oh, right. Bruce. He was staring at the old woman, completely lost in thought. This woman thought you two were a couple. Did you look like it? And why had you shut her down so quickly? Did you hate the idea that much? Would it be so terrible if the two of you were to date?

“Oh, I am so sorry then, my apologies!” the waitress was quick to apologise. “It’s just – you two look rather lovely together. I’m sorry for the intrusion.” She walked away and you covered your cheeks with your hands, trying to mask the sudden blush that had overcome you.

Bruce, on his end, was still staring at where the woman had been. Did you two look like a couple that much? He wouldn’t mind it. No, not really, he wouldn’t mind being a couple with you. He could finally drop that stupid playboy persona, be one step closer to his real self. He could protect you and always keep you safe and closer to him. He wondered what it would be like to wake up to you every morning and be greeted with that dazzling smile of yours. Would you ask him for five more minutes in bed? Act all grumpy until you had your morning coffee? Would you drag him out of his bedroom to start the day and be productive?

“Shall we go?” you interrupted his thoughts, placing your now empty mug on top of your plate. “It’s gonna get dark soon, and I wanted to see the Christmas lights.” Your voice was lower, still tinted with some nervousness. Bruce snapped out of it and nodded, walking towards the counter to pay the bill.

While he was gone, you made your way to the bathroom and splashed some water on your face, to wake yourself up and hopefully cool down.

Once you were ready, you walked out of the café, strolling the streets of Gotham.

Sometimes it surprised you how pretty your city could be. Sure, there was chaos and corruption, and most of the times it was a fucking shithole, but it was still home, and the tall buildings and bright lights could still take your breath away.

You and Bruce walked side by side. You were still far too nervous to look at him, so you kept your distance. Bruce, respectful as ever, remained by your side, refusing to touch you until you gave him permission. As you were looking at the prettily decorated shop windows and houses, he could see the way your body shivered and trembled.

That’s what you got for refusing to bring a jacket because, “your outfit looked far too pretty to be hidden behind a coat”.

“Cold?” he asked.

“N-no. Not at all. I’m fine. I told you; these tights are really warm.” Your voice was trembling, and your teeth were close to chattering. A part of Bruce wanted to see you fight for your case just a bit longer, while the other just longed to envelop you in his arms and keep the cold away.

“Oh, really? Because I’m pretty sure the tips of your fingers are turning blue.” He said with a smug expression.

“No, I’m fine.” You replied, nodding eagerly. “I told you; I wouldn’t be cold. I’m not.”

Bruce just nodded and kept walking by your side.

After a few minutes, it was far too obvious you were freezing. Your body was trembling, your teeth were chattering, and he was sure he could see your lips becoming a dark shade of purple.

Wordlessly, Bruce began to remove his jacket.

“What are you doing?” you asked, turning to him in confusion.

“Preventing you from catching pneumonia,” he replied, handing it to you.

“N-no, T-that’s not n-necessary, Bruce. I’m fine. I’m n-not cold. I’m f-fine! See? Just p-peachy.”

Bruce had faced criminals and villains and corrupt cops, and they’d all lied to him at one point or another. None was as bad as you.

He gave you one of his “I told you so” looks, and you nearly pouted, spreading your arms as he helped you put the jacket on. Almost instantly, you felt warmth spread through your body and sighed in relief. Bruce also removed his scarf, and carefully wrapped around your neck, hands lingering on your face for longer than necessary when he brushed a few strands away from it.

“Better?” he murmured.

You looked at him through your lashes. He was close. Very close. So close, that you could hear your heartbeat hammering on your chest. You gave him a soft “mhm” and he returned to your side, keeping a respectful distance from you.

“Aren’t you cold?” you asked him. It made you feel terrible – it was freezing in Gotham, and you’d taken his only sources of comfort.

“I’m fine – believe me. I’d much rather have you not freezing on me.” He replied.

“Are you sure? It’s very cold.”

“I promise.”

You nodded and continued your silent stroll.

Suddenly, while crossing the street, some careless motorbike showed up out of nowhere. You shrieked in surprise, and froze in your place, closing your eyes in fear. A pair of strong arms pulled you away, and you collided with a strong figure. Bruce was holding you close, cursing the driver under his breath. Once you looked up to you look at him, he turned to you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking all over your face to make sure you were unharmed.

“Yeah – just – that dickhead –“

“I know. It’s like you can’t trust anyone with a license these days.” He muttered. It hurt to part from you. It was like you were made to stand next to him, body slotting perfectly with his. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, giving you space, but was surprised when you held onto his arm, like you usually do.

You looked at him, silently asking for permission, which he granted. You scooted closer to him, and he smiled.

The two of you continued walking through the streets of Gotham, making comments on the architecture, the lighting, the people. There were small stalls selling all sorts of trinkets and goods, a sort of small Christmas market, and you smiled as you saw kids running around with balloons or cups of hot chocolate. It was dark and gloomy, but once again, Gotham could be so very beautiful.

“A pretty flower for a pretty lady?” An old vendor asked, extending a pretty rose in your direction.

“Oh, no thank you – “ you mumbled, shaking your head, but Bruce was quicker.

“Thank you.” He nodded, taking the flower in his hands. He handed the man a bill (and surely a big one at that, because the man’s eyes widened, and he stared at it for quite a while before thanking Bruce profusely.)

Bruce turned to you and handed you the flower.

You weren’t sure if it was from his jacket, or if your whole body had simply decided to set itself on fire. You took the flower and brought it up to your nose, the intoxicating smell of it filling your senses.

“Thank you,” you said, still looking at it. No one had ever bought you flowers.

“A pretty flower for a pretty lady,” he repeated the old man’s words, and continued walking with you by his side, but not without hearing the old man say something about how “beautiful it was to see love bringing people together”. You didn’t seem to have heard it, but Bruce did, and he smiled.

It was Christmas Eve, and you were in Wayne Manor, having dinner with Bruce and Alfred (whom he begged to take a seat at the table with the two of you). There was wine and plenty of food, and the three of you had a great time, sharing funny stories and anecdotes and just enjoying each other’s companies.

You had promised your family to visit them the day after and were dead set on spending the Eve with Bruce.

After dinner, you sat near the fireplace, talking about books, movies, and whatever silly topic that came to mind. You, with your legs comfortably spread on the couch, Alfred on the big chair, and Bruce on the floor, by your feet. To him, that was the closest he had to spending Christmas with his family, and wondered if his parents would’ve enjoyed your company. Of course they’d have, he thought, you’re perfect.

After the three of you had played a few games (Alfred had won at charades, his Batman impression making you laugh for five minutes straight), you stood up announcing that, since it was almost midnight, you wanted everyone to open their gifts. It was more about you giving yours away than opening them, really – you were quite proud of the gifts you’d bought and wanted Bruce’s and Alfred’s reactions as soon as possible.

“Alright, alright, alright, me first! Here – Alfred, these are for you!” You handed him about five different packages, and he looked at you with a fond expression in his eyes.

“You didn’t have to, Miss.”

“Well, but I did. I need to spoil my swing partner, don’t I?”

He smiled at your antics and slowly opened the packages, one by one. Inside, there were a few woollen sweaters with matching-coloured ties.

“They’re really warm, you know. And it’s real wool – the quality of these is amazing! And you can even wear them without the ties, for a more casual look. What do you think? Do you like them?” you asked eagerly, hoping to get the response you wanted.

“I do, Miss. Thank you. These are lovely.”

You beamed and hugged him tightly. “Promise? There’s a receipt somewhere if you don’t like them – but I just thought they looked so cool and they were so pretty and the fabric is so soft, and – “

“Yes, Miss. I promise. Thank you. These are splendid.”

“Well, since we’re spoiling Alfred, I don’t really want to get left out.” Bruce joked, before reaching for an envelope sitting on top of the Christmas tree (decorated by the both of you on the first of December, thank you very much.) He handed his butler the envelope and sat back, awaiting his reply.

“So, you’ve finally decided to get rid of me.” Alfred said, looking at the contents of the envelope intently.

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just a few weeks.” Bruce replied smugly. “If anyone deserves a vacation in this house, it’s you.”

When Alfred didn’t reply, Bruce raised an eyebrow, worry starting to pool in his stomach.

“Alfred? Is everything okay?”

Alfred sighed and shook the envelope in his head.

“A ticket to the Maldives, Master Wayne? You’ve outdone yourself this time.”

Bruce grinned, nodding. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do indeed, but, if I may express a tiny complaint…”

“Of course, Alfred. You can always speak your mind.”

“You’re a bit of a cheapskate, Master Wayne.”

You burst out laughing, nodding along with Alfred.

“A cheapskate. I see. And why is that?”

“After all I’ve done for you, three weeks of vacation seems a bit stingy, don’t you think?” Although he was saying this, he had a smile playing in his lips. Clearly none of it was serious.

“It’s not like I can function without you Alfred. Can’t have you enjoying too much time off, now, can we? You might remember just how fantastic life is outside this place and never return. You’ll be here forever. You’ve changed my diapers when I was born, and you’ll change them when I’m old and gray.”

“I knew I should’ve never accepted Thomas Wayne’s job offer back then.” He muttered. But he then turned to Bruce and gave him an earnest smile. “Thank you, sir. This is very thoughtful of you.”

After that, it was his turn to give you your presents. He gave Bruce a (very expensive) bottle of wine, that he expressed “wanted it to be opened on a very special occasion” with a wink – which made Bruce clear his throat and change the subject. You received a burgundy scarf he’d brought from his latest trip to England, from a shop you’ve expressed your admiration for a few times.

“Holy – oh my god! This is incredible, I mean, look at it!” You hugged him tightly and wrapped the scarf around your neck, not caring that it was far too warm inside the Manor for you to require a scarf.

“Well, now, it seems to be getting rather late for me,” he announced, standing up.

“Oh? You don’t wanna stay here until midnight?”

Alfred shook his head.

“I’m afraid not, Miss. I’m quite tired. I’ll be retiring for the night.”

“Alright, Alfred. Goodnight.” Bruce said with a curt nod.

“Goodnight, sir. Goodnight, Miss.”

You’d turned away to investigate your scarf once again, you missed the look Alfred gave his master, which made him sigh and look at you fondly.

“Alright – now it’s my turn! I need to go get your gift, just wait in here!” You were quick to stand up and disappear into the hallway. You’d been gone for a few minutes, so Bruce went after you, wondering if everything was alright. He bumped into you near the grand staircase at the entrance, and you jumped.

“Christ – you need to stop scaring me like that!” you reprimanded him.

Bruce chuckled, and you shook your head.

“Anyway,” you mumbled, presenting him with a small black box. “This is for you. I know it’s not nearly as fancy as the ones you already have but – well, it’s Christmas and it’s the thought that counts, is it not?” There was a certain nervousness in your voice, Bruce could feel it.

He gently took the box from you, and opened it, revealing a fancy looking black Hugo Boss watch. His fingers trailed the screen and the expensive leather strap.

“I know you have a ton of those, but I thought, hey, this one’s special, this one’s from me!” Before you could keep on with your nervous ramblings, Bruce brought you close, hugging you tightly. You smiled against his chest and wrapped your hands around his torso. This was nice. This was comfortable and familiar and nice.

“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair, and you almost melted at the cadence of his voice.

“You’re welcome.” You replied.

When you two pulled away, something caught his eye. Looking up, he realised the both of you were standing right underneath a few branches of mistletoe. You followed his eyes and blushed furiously, your whole body heating up.

Bruce said your name and you turned to look at him, feeling as light as a feather.

“Look, I – there’s something I would like to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Bruce thought of all you’d been through together. Laughter, tears, giggles, and scowls. You’d had great times, reading books, walking around, spending time together, and bad times, when he blew you off, choosing Gotham city at night over you. He thought of all he told you, all he trusted you with.

“I just wanted to say that I really enjoy spending time with you,” he began.

“I enjoy spending time with you too.” You inched closer to him, hands still on his chest.

“You’re amazing, and I’m so glad to have you in my life. You see through my charade. I can be myself when I’m around you.”

He thought back on the charity gala, on you wearing that lovely black dress, dancing with him. He thought of holding your hand and pulling you close to him to keep you safe. He thought of your sparkly eyes and delicate lips, and how much he could stare into the former and how badly he wanted to kiss the later.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I guess what I’m trying to say is…”

He thought about how badly he wanted to always be with you. How much he’d love to wake up next to you, feel your skin against his, be able to shout from the rooftops that you’re his and his alone. He thought about dropping to one knee and seeing you walking down an aisle wearing the prettiest of white dresses. He saw a lifetime with you, side by side.

“What I’m trying to say is…”

He thought about Batman.

How he’d have to cancel date after date after date, prioritising the black suit over your relationship. He thought of you getting worried sick when he got home late, frowning as you looked at his scars and bruises. He could see it vividly, how you’d cry and beg him not to leave you, to choose you over the city for once in his life, and how he’d leave you to cry all of your tears as he put the cowl on.

“Is…”

“Is…?” You pressed further, eyes dropping to his lips.

He saw argument after argument, saw you screaming at him, accusing him of not loving you. He saw nights spent in the couch, because you were far too angry to let him in your bed. He saw your sad eyes welling up with tears in the middle of romantic dates after he’d told you he had to go because the bat signal was shining in the night sky. He thought about someone finding his identity and going after you first and foremost. He saw you tied up in some random chair, mouth gagged and tears running down your streak as some criminal tortured you to get to him.

He saw your lifeless body inside a coffin, skin devoid of colour, eyes closed, to never open again, and how he’d spend the rest of his life hating both himself and his mask.

He thought about Bruce Wayne, and Batman.

And he realised you couldn’t possibly love both.

“Is… You’re a great friend. Thank you.” He squeezed your arms in a comforting manner and walked away, leaving you wide eyed and speechless under the mistletoe.

Later, he’d gift you the first edition of your favourite classic novel and wish you goodnight with a polite nod of his head, going up to his bedroom.

Before he went to sleep, he locked the pearl earrings and his mother’s necklace inside his drawer.

Things were awkward between you two. Your friendship with Bruce was still there, but he was sort of distant. Your weekly book club meetings still happened, and he still dropped by your café to drink coffee and try new cupcake recipes, but everything seemed to have changed after Christmas Eve.

So, you tried to move on with your life.

A few weeks after Christmas, your bakery started to work with a new supplier, and you quickly befriended the delivery guy, Tom. While you started to look forward to his visits more and more, it still did not feel the same as when you were with Bruce, and you felt guilty for hanging out with him.

One day, Bruce came in for his regular cup of coffee and a cupcake and found you smiling and giggling at a guy at the counter. His first reaction was to punch the guy to next Sunday, but thankfully he calmed down and approached you with a polite smile on his face.

“Hey there,” he greeted you, not sparing Tom a single glance.

“Oh! Hey Bruce – this is Tom. He’s the delivery guy from the new supplier.” Tom’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he realised the Bruce Wayne was standing in front of him and tried his best to shake his hand nonchalantly.

“I’ll be right with you,” you told him, and continued your conversation with Tom.

Fucking Tom. Who even was this guy?

And why were you smiling so much? What the fuck did he have that Bruce didn’t?

Most likely, it was what Bruce didn’t have that make a difference – a mask, a secret identity, a promise made to Gotham.

After you were done chatting with the delivery guy, you placed a cupcake and a cup of coffee in front of Bruce, but instead of sitting down with him, you returned to the counter and resumed your conversation.

Bruce cursed himself mentally.

On Christmas day, after you’d left, Alfred had asked what happened.

Bruce told him everything. How he couldn’t be with you because of Batman, how he couldn’t risk your safety and life, how he pushed you away.

Alfred lectured him, telling his master that his mask was going to be the end of him, but Bruce refused to listen and went to the batcave to busy himself and get his mind off you.

As he looked at you now, radiant and smiling at someone else, he realised that he might’ve made a big, big mistake.

It wasn’t long until you two started dating. It was casual, nothing too serious, but Bruce still seethed on the inside. He found himself staring at you for longer, hands lingering on yours whenever he touched you, and his heart ached more and more whenever he saw you with Tom.

You seemed so happy with him.

Seemed.

Because the truth was, you weren’t doing as well as Bruce thought you were. Tom was a nice man, yeah, but there was something off about the whole thing. He was good looking, yes, and very kind. He listened to you and made you, his priority. He was a dream. But there was just one problem, he wasn’t Bruce.

When you two went out, you often found yourself wishing it was Bruce’s arms wrapped around you. When you two went shopping and you decided to go try on a few hand lotions, Tom simply bent over to sniff your hand, and you were brought back to that time last November when Bruce held you with such gentleness, you nearly melted.

Tom always reminded you to bring a jacket, and you did so diligently, unconsciously put off by the idea of wearing his. He’d once given it to you, and it just wasn’t the same. He didn’t wrap it around you securely, he didn’t brush the hair away from your face, he didn’t look at you the way Bruce did. He was an amazing guy, and you liked him.

But that was it.

Still, you kept your relationship going, hoping your feelings would change.

After all, it’s not like you had ever felt anything for Bruce, right?

He was just a good friend.

You enjoyed spending time with him, sure, but that was it.

So, you looked forward to every time the two of you hung out. And your heartbeat quickened every time he was near. You couldn’t get your eyes off him. You easily got angry or upset whenever other women looked at him, and even more so when he entertained their advances. You longed to have him hold you in your arms.

But that was all normal, right? It just meant you were great friends.

You mind goes back to Christmas Eve, and the way he hugged you. Standing under that mistletoe, there was nothing you wanted more than to kiss him. You remember looking at him and wishing so bad that he would lean down and press his lips against yours. Just friends don’t kiss.

And that’s what you were to him – just a friend. He’d say that himself.

So why were you so heartbroken?

Looking at an empty coffee mug, it suddenly hit you like a train.

You were in love with Bruce Wayne.

And he didn’t love you back.

So there was no need to feel guilty over going out with Tom, right? Even if you didn’t particularly want to kiss him and didn’t want his hands around you when you two went out. Even if you were reluctant to introduce you as “your boyfriend” and had more than once ditched him to stay home and rethink your life decisions.

Even if when the two of you went out on dates, you barely paid any attention to him, focusing on the times you’d sat down with Bruce over a drink and just laughed your asses off and spoke until the crack of dawn.

Even if you didn’t really love Tom.

Yeah. No need at all.

On a lovely April afternoon, you were helping Bruce do some spring cleaning. You were both wearing some casual, old clothes, and helping Alfred to make sure the Manor ended up spotless.

You were currently in charge of the spacious living room, carefully placing picture frames on top of the coffee table so you could clean the fireplace. You looked at the framed memories. Pictures of Bruce as a child, or with his parents. There was one with a young Bruce standing on his father’s shoulders, and another one of him hugging Alfred.

You smiled to yourself. What a cute kid, he was. He seemed so happy.

There were pictures of him with Rachel, knees scraped and clothes dirty from the mud, and some with you. Your gaze lingered on those.

There was one framed selfie with the two of you, faces full of flour and whipped cream. You’d been teaching him how to bake, but the whole ordeal ended up in a small food fight – which he’d won. You chuckled at the memories of trying to teach Mr. “I’m far too rich to cook because I have people to do it for me” how to measure cups of flour, and break eggs. You’d held onto his arms and guided him to make sure he got the measurements just right.

Something inside of you flared up the memory.

The other picture in your hand had been taken at the Carrington gala.

You were wearing your pretty (and extremely expensive) black dress and were smiling at the camera. You were leaning into Bruce’s touch, who was holding you close by the waist. Instead of looking at the camera, he was instead looking at you.

Somehow, tears had clouded your vision.

How you had loved dancing with him. Being held by him as if you were the only person in the world he cared about. Your fingers traced his figure in the picture, and a tear fell down your cheek, falling on top of the glass.

“Hey, are you done with the fireplace?” You jumped at the voice behind you, and dropped the frame, which fell on the floor and broke into a million little pieces.

“Shit!” you mumbled, quick to crouch and try to pick up each glass shard. Bruce was quicker though, and made his way towards you, pulling you away from the soiled floor.

“No, get away from this, you might get hurt. I’ll call Alfred and – “ he looked at you and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Tears were streaming down your face, and you couldn’t look away from the mess you had made. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you choked back a sob. “I’m so sorry – I broke it.”

“No, no. It’s okay, we’ll just get a new frame.” Bruce assured you, hands resting on your shoulders.

“No – fuck ­– it’s not okay! None of this is okay!” You cried, and he pulled you against his chest, running his fingers through your hair.

“It’s just a frame. We’ll get a new one. And we’ll clean the floor.”

You cried in his arms for a while, until your sobs subsided into quiet sniffs. Bruce didn’t really know what to do, so he stood there, holding you tight. He’d never let you go.

After a while, you broke the silence.

“I – “ sniff, “ – I broke up with Tom,” you mumbled.

Bruce’s expression was one of surprise. Really? Why would you though? You two seemed happy.

“I… I don’t really think I liked him…” you continued; voice muffled by his chest. “I think I was dating him simply because I wanted to forget you…”

What?

He looked at you, but you refused to face him, face pressing harder against his chest.

“I’m such an idiot, Bruce… Everything was fine, and then I went and fell for you… And now our friendship is going to be ruined, and I broke your picture frame…”

Bruce held you tighter. You fell for him?

“I’m sorry, Bruce… I’m so sorry – I promise I’ll fix this. I – I’ll stop loving you and we can go back to being friends, and – “

Bruce used his thumb to lift your face up and looked straight into your eyes. There was nowhere to run. You were trapped, and so was he.

“You love me?” he asked, voice as soft as you’d ever heard it.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words out loud, so you opted for nodding.

“But – Tom –“

“Tom was a distraction,” you sniffled, “And I feel terrible about it. But I didn’t really like him. I just wanted to forget about you.”

“You love me,” Bruce repeated, using the same thumb to rub circles on the skin of your cheek. His gaze fell on your lips.

He had two choices. He could let you go once again. He could walk away from you, tell you he didn’t love you back. He could watch as you eventually moved on with your life (this time for real) and protect you from having to choose between Bruce Wayne and Batman.

He could give up the love of his life forever.

Or he could kiss you. He could tell you how he felt. He could trust you with that darker side of him, and you two could figure it out along the way. He could take it easy. He could bare his heart and finally tell you how you felt.

Two sides of him fought against each other, but ultimately, one was stronger.

He bent down and took your lips in his, sliding his hands up to your face to cradle it.

You were surprised to say the least, but pleasantly so. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back with vigour, tears of happiness falling down your cheeks. How you’d wanted this. And now, it was finally happening.

When you two parted for air, Bruce refused to let you go, standing mere inches away from you. His nose nuzzled yours, and he whispered a quiet, “I love you.”

You don’t know wat surprised you more. That he’d say it, or that you said it back.

“I love you too,” you smiled, pressing yourself against him and kissing him once again.

Bruce wrapped his arms around you, attempting to convey all his feelings for you in a simple kiss. All the longing, the love, the desire, the friendship. Everything he couldn’t find the words to say, he poured into that kiss. And you smiled, accepting all his confessions, all his words.

“Well, it was about time, don’t you two think?” Alfred said from across the room.

You jumped and just stared at him, embarrassment overtaking you.

“Yes, I’m talking about you two. Do you know how bothersome it was to see you moping around and sulking because you hadn’t kissed her on Christmas Eve, sir?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I – You wanted to kiss me on Christmas Eve?” you turned to Bruce and gave him a soft smile.

“I did. I really did. I’m so sorry I didn’t.” he replied, before looking at Alfred. “Could you please leave us alone now? I don’t really recall paying you to mind my business.”

“You don’t pay me enough not to, sir.” The butler replied with a cheeky grin and that “I have the high ground, for I am British and old and wise” smug look of his. “I am glad to see the both of you are finally getting along. If you need me, I’ll be cleaning the Manor, since no one in this house does it.”

You laughed and faced Bruce once again, cupping his cheek.

“I thought you didn’t even like me. I mean, on Christmas…”

“I’m sorry about Christmas. I really did want to kiss you, it’s just… There are things about me – things you don’t know. And I’m afraid of telling you because I don’t want you to get hurt.” He replied, hand coming up to touch yours.

“You can tell me anything Bruce, you know it. Right?”

He nodded, and hugged you close one more time.

“I do. And I love you. I really mean it.”

Bruce could hear the smile in your voice when you replied.

“I love you too.”

For once in his life, Bruce Wayne did not feel completely alone. On the next room, he had his trusted butler, who had raised him as his own and acted like a parental figure all these years. And in his arms, he had you. The love of his life, the woman he loved the most in the world.

Holding you close to him, he knew he could trust you, no matter what. He knew you’d accept him, because if anyone would, it was you. And he would cherish that forever.

Later that night, a small white box was taken out of a locked drawer and placed inside of his pocket.

Bruce led you to the same spot you’d been on Christmas Eve, handed you the small box, and after carefully placing the necklace around your neck, finally kissed you.

There was no way he was ever letting go of you.

A/N: And that's it! I hope I was able to do both this trilogy and this request justice, I was really worried about it. I wrote most of it in one sitting, you have no idea, I just kept on writing and writing and writing and when I realised it, it'd gotten kinda long and out of hand.

I also hope this Tom character wasn't useless? I mean, he sorta was, he was just a plot device, but I hope he didn't feel rushed or whatever.

Anyways, I hope you guys liked it! I really do!

Have an amazing day, everyone! <3

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #nolanverse #the dark knight fanfiction #the dark knight fanfic #nolanverse fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

Come with me on this journey okay:

-Stay-at-home-wheelchair-Dad Jake Sully babysits literally all children. His own, whatever fosters Norm has at the time, Tonowari’s, and Tsu’sey and Sylwanin’s. He is the babysitting and parenting God. 

-When they’re really rowdy he puts them all on leashes and has them pull him around the street yelling “MUSH, MUSH!”

-Eytukan is retired, so he helps Mo’at run her free clinic. Jake spends like all his free time there, “helping out” with his hoard of children. It’s really just a nice open area for the kids to play in, big fields and equipment in clear view while Jake helps with physical therapy.

-The clinic is where he and Neytiri met, he didn’t have the money for treatment on vet benefits after he was paralyzed in the marines so he ended up at the free clinic. Neytiri volunteers for her mother on the weekends, and she bullied him into enjoying life again. 

-Sylwanin and Jake are pretend frenemies, she pretends to hate him because he stole her little sister AND managed to get married and have kids before her and Tsu’tey who have been dating for like, their entire lives. Jake says it’s because they have yet to be blown up, and he can help her with that. 

-Every time Jake wheels his way in with all the kids Sylwanin goes “Oh, it’s you,” and Jake says “Yeah yeah, just your brother in law, not like I should get any respect around here,” and then he hands her her exact Starbucks order and offers to have Lo’ak throw up on her most hated patient. 

-(when he was little Lo’ak could throw up on command)

-Sylwanin loves all her nieces and nephews equally but she especially enjoys Spider, because before he was adopted he was in the clinic fairly often for suspicious injuries. She hasn’t shaken the urge to watch him like a hawk yet. 

-Eytukan and Jake are Boys in a way that disgusts all the women in their family. They go golfing together, and Eytukan accuses Jake of cheating via proximity to the ground.

-Lo’ak was DETERMINED to golf with them for years and when they actually let him come he cried he got so bored.

-Neteyam would never admit this under pain of death, but he enjoys golfing. 

-Spider, Neteyam, Ao’nung, and Lo’ak are all deeply obsessed with American Ninja Warrior, so Tonowari, Jake, and Tsu’tey built a course for them. They then started to get a little into it and it got serious. To this day out of everyone they know Jake is the only one to have completed the salmon ladder, and then he hauled himself off the mat and back into his chair and Tonowari and Tsu’tey had to reconsider their sexualities. 

-When Kiri, Lo’ak, Neteyam, Spider, and Ao’nung were all babies Jake went to the store with them all strapped to him or in a basket on his wheelchair and someone called the cops cause they thought he stole all those varying ethnicity babies. 

-Jake calls it The Great Baby Heist of 2077 and Tsu’tey always responds to this story by asking what idiot would want that many babies?

-Sometimes Sylwanin gets too friendly with Jake and quickly pretends to get mad at him. 

-Tonowari and Tsu’tey became friends by both being confused as hell by their friend Jake. When they met him he was all depressed and rotting away alone in the free clinic. Now he’s so high energy he raced Lo’ak once and threw himself out of his chair to get extra momentum to beat Lo’ak over the arbitrary finish line. He had a pool installed for Kiri to just float in and stare at the sky. He bakes cookies with Tsireya balanced on his chair between his legs so he can help her crack the eggs. He beat Tsu’tey in a wrestling match in the gym the other day. His enthusiasm for life scares them, they spend a lot of time side eyeing each other behind him. 

-Sylwanin (secretly) likes Jake because he’s a good father and husband to her kids, and he’s funny and a good person, but she likes him even more for the energy he brings out in her husband. Tsu’tey is NOT GOOD at making friends, he’s awkward and he’s a weirdo. But now he plays tennis twice a week with Jake, Norm, and Tonowari and spends like every evening she has to work at the Sully house for dinner. 

#i'm really into stay at home wheelchair dad jake sully #started thinking about still alive tsu'tey sylwanin and eytukan #jake sully #norm spellman #tonowari #tsu'tey #sylwanin #eytukan #mo'at #neytiri sully #lo'ak sully #neteyam sully #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #ao'nung #tsireya #avatar #avatar the way of water #james cameron avatar #melissa og #melissa on avatar (cameron) #jeytiri #we are mindmelding get in #modern au (wheelchair! jake edition)

[angelwhisp3rs]

༺♥༻ royals

Pairing: re4r!leon x fem!reader

Summary: A regency era tale of two enemies lovers brought by a legend of the royal bluebell flower.

Tags: fluff; smut; p in v; fingering; leon is an asshole but just a bit.

This is the third part of my valentines advent! Check it out for the next couple of days for more stories!

Notes: I ALMOST DIED BUT IM FINE, feeling fresh after sh**ting and v**iting for two days!!! ALSO THIS WAS BASED ON A C.AI BOT AND I LOVE HIM

Those balls were all too pretentious, way too classy, and filled with people who pretended to like one another but, in reality, they were just hateful. It didn’t help that the event was being held in her enemy's territory: the Kennedy family.

The family was very prestigious and quite well known all around the realm, but they had a long-lasting feud with Ihelia, her family's kingdom - something about riches and lands centuries ago, but no one is quite sure. For now, they still didn’t see eye to eye for another reason: they were just way too snobbish.

God, especially the oldest, Leon. In a rare occurrence, the man was blonde with blue eyes - while some had one characteristic, this little asshole had both. To make matters worse, he was built like a freaking hero, his sparring abilities being renowned in all the kingdom. So yeah, the man was way too handsome and way too competent. To say he was egotistical was an understatement.

Her parents always told her she had to fulfill her duties as a princess to be wed, attending parties and mingling with the royals. Oh gods, how much did she hate it.

She was almost beginning to give up on keeping appearances as a nice old lady, the former queen of the Luterra kingdom - the one ruled by the Kennedys now. She was always known for her kindness, also being the one responsible for the truce period of Luterra and Ihelia. Doing a proper courtesy, she smiled at the queen mother. 

“Your majesty. It's a pleasure to attend such a beautiful event” Oh, how fake she was

“Oh honey, no need to keep up appearances. I always thought my son was way too obnoxious with his parties” she laughed, offering a welcoming pat on her shoulders.

The princess smiled relieved, looking at the former queen with the utmost respect. Gosh, what a wise woman. “I thought the lions were quite artistic. '' The princess jokes, as the queen mother laughs in agreement.

“So, you entered the age of finding suitors. Someone charmed you yet?”

“Not yet, your majesty. My father is busy telling me I should focus on the strategic side of relationships, while my mother just wants me to focus on a wealthy man”

“Oh dear, what about love?”

“Don’t think it is in the cards for me” the princess smiled apologetically.

“Of course it is. It's for everyone! Have you ever heard of the tale of the royal bluebell flower?”

The princess shook her head, curious about the queen's words.

“It’s a known tale in Luterra. Once in a lifetime, if destiny smiles upon you, you will be able to find a royal bluebell flower in the castle. Once you find it, the flower will guide you to your one true love if you still haven’t found it.”

“That sounds magical, your highness. Maybe I should roam around the gardens then” she joked.

For some reason, the queen gave the girl a knowing smile. The woman was wise beyond her years after all. “Don’t worry. Luterra lands are quite magical. They will lead you anywhere you are”

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Roaming the party his dad threw, Leon almost seethed as he watched his beloved grandmother talk to one of the lowlifes in Ihelia. He never understood her high morals of talking to the people who tried to steal their money and land. They weren’t to be trusted - they tried to steal once, which could guarantee they wouldn’t do it again.

He approached them, gearing himself with a knowing smirk, looking dashing in his red and gold ornamental suit.  

“Didn’t know our parties could be accessed by anyone. I think I’ll talk to dad to reinforce security next time”

The princess rolled her eyes, while the queen just snickered. She quickly excused herself, giving Leon a warning look to “behave”. As the young royals were alone, his nice facade dropped - he didn’t want to appear like a complete jackass in front of his beloved grandma, after all. 

“Genuely, why are you even here?”

“I was invited, idiot. If I could, I wouldn't have come here even if I was threatened”

“I forgot how my dad invited even the most needed ones. Such a charitable man”

“If he was charitable he wouldn’t have brought to Earth a menace like yourself”

Before he could answer, the orchestra began playing a more romantic and slow song. Finding it as another opportunity to tease her, he asked for her hand, knowing that she would look distasteful if she ever wanted to refuse his hand.

“My lady. Do you accept this dance?”

If possible, that was the pivotal moment that she almost killed the bachelor. Forcing a smile to not drop her etiquette, she nodded and held his hand, letting him guide her to the dance floor. 

By destiny's irony, they fit like perfect puzzles, his big and calloused hand wrapping against her delicate gloved one. Their bodies moved in synchrony, and the dance wasn’t as awkward as it was between other bachelors.

“I’m surprised you know how to dance at all, it looks like even in poverty lands they appreciate culture”

“Your grandma is so sweet, how are you even related to her?”

“Grandma is too kind, she always respects those in need. She doesn’t see the scumm your family is” he said in a cruel smirk.

She maintained the appearance, giving him a forced smile. “It amazes how you call yourself smart and yet still hold a grudge - that isn't yours - after centuries.”

“Ha, is that the best you could say to me?”

“Honestly, no. The way you act is so beneath me that I don't think it is worth it to spend so much energy on you”.

As I'd on cue, the orchestra stopped the song, and she did another courtesy and left the dance floor.

However, she failed to watch Leon pale, but for reasons she would be none the wiser for a long time.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

“Honey, the ball in Luterra must've been quite exciting”

“Ah, not much. Why do you say that?” The princess asks her father curiously.

“Because the oldest of the Kennedys just asked for your hand in marriage”

“HE WHAT?”

It was quite comical how her voice resonated in the castle, looking confused. 

“I know you might not like it, but it is a perfect marriage for you. It would solve the rift between the kingdoms and it would secure both households in influence”

The princess looked angrily at her dad, as he told the most absurd thing she ever heard, with even worse reasons.

“Do any of my feelings matter at all?”

“They do, but we have to be strategic. I'm sorry, honey, but I already accepted it”.

She lost her grounding, looking desolated at her father's words. It didn't matter what she felt or what she said, at the end of the day, she was a pawn to serve her father's wishes.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

The change into his castle was even more terrifying. But what she could never count was the complete change in Leon's behavior. Although he still wasn't overly friendly, he was much kinder - he was the one who started that lunacy after all.

They still slept in separate rooms until the wedding happened, but he made an effort to spend at least a part of the day with her. Whenever she asked him for his reasons for wanting to marry her, he always gave her the same answer.

“Please ask me after our wedding”

After some weeks of curiosity, the ceremony happened, and it was perfect. To everyone watching, it was a wedding to be remembered for years. Hell, even she felt like a true princess.

She warmed up to Luterra, especially the castle and its staff. Her assigned maid was absolutely lovely, and she honestly considered the woman a friend. 

Still, she vehemently ignored her family in the ceremony. If they traded her like a pawn, they can play that game by themselves, she doesn't want to be a part of it.

By the end of the night, Leon and she were finally sharing a room. She looked nervous, sitting up in bed with him. He was the first one to break the ice.

“You looked beautiful today. You always do, but you shined even more today”

“Thank you. And thank you for being at my side the entire day. I'm glad I didn't feel alone”

“I would never. I will always choose you”

Some moments passed, and she bit the bullet.

“Leon… why me?” 

He was a coveted bachelor, every woman would want him. Why his enemy?

He smiled, and looked down at the sheets, as if he was embarrassed.

“Your hair ornament at the day of the ball”

“What? Just because?” I asked giggling.

“No. It was a royal bluebell. That's when I knew”

She looked at him surprised. Just the tale his grandmother told her at the party. That's why she looked so cunning, she must've realized the flower she had on her hair.

“But Leon, anyone could've worn something with the flower-”

“No. I didn't want to attend the event, but I heard a staff member talking about destiny's surprises. I was already late to the event, and you were the first woman I saw.”

“Jeez, you take these things seriously. You honestly think I'm your soulmate”

“Wholeheartedly. And if you don't, I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you”

She was taken aback by his words. So moved, she pressed a kiss to his lips, surprising both at the spontaneity. Leon didn't waste any time and got over her - it was their honeymoon, after all.

In a mess of limbs and eagerness, both were naked as they explored each other's bodies, breathless and excited. Leon maintained eye contact and lifted her thighs to his waist, offering his fingers to her and letting her mouth soak them. Then, they moved down to her clit, circling and rubbing it slowly, drinking in the soft gasps of pleasure.

“So soft, baby… gonna make this pretty pussy love me just as much as you do”

As she was wet enough, one finger gently entered her needy hole, finding her g spot and rubbing it slowly, her entrance clenching around him.

His movements were slow but deliberate, and soon his pretty princess fell apart on his fingers. No time to waste, his other hand lifted her other thigh to his hips, giving easy access to her.

His hand pinched and circled her nipples, kissing her deeply as his tip began to slide in, causing both to moan in unity.

“Fuck, Leon… too much”

“You can take it, you are my good girl”

She clenched at the praise, making him smirk. He kept praising her, till she was ready to take cock. 

“My baby, gonna take care of you forever”

“Doing so good, just taking me so deep”

“Pussy made to be fucked by me

As he felt her more comfortable and turned on, he moved his hips at a consistent pace, the angled head of his cock hitting her spot just nicely. 

She scratched his arms and back, guaranteeing he henot be able to be shirtless in front of people for quite a while, but he didn't mind. He would take every mark she gave in, that's how much he loved her.

He moaned as his cock was swallowed by her gummy walls, her wetness granting a white creamy circle at the base of his manhood.

He positioned himself again, throwing her legs over his arms and bending her in half, letting him hit it deeper, making his wife tear up - in pleasure, of course.

“God, if you keep clenching I won't be able to hold back, baby”

“Please, please, just want you to cum. Please fill me up, husband”

Jesus, how could he resist? He was only a man after all. As his hips pistoned in her, he felt her contracting her walls and cumming all around him, triggering his orgasm.

She whined as she felt filled up, her body shaky as her orgasm just threw her on cloud 9. She smiled as he kissed her face as he came down too, appreciating and worshiping the body of his soulmate.

“Isn't that enough proof that you are my destiny?”

“Hmm, don't know that… maybe you should try again” She said smirking.

Leon didn't oppose her. After all, he had all eternity to prove his love.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #re4 #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake #re4 remake #re4r #re4make #re4 leon #leon scott kennedy #resident evil leon #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon smut #leon resident evil #leon x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #resident evil x you

[lifewithchronicpain]

I have been watching the Curious Case of Natalia Grace, mainly for the second season where Natalia actually gets to speak for herself. It is so beyond upsetting, do not watch unless you're ready to rage.

There is a Lot to the story but I will sum it up as best I can. Natalia is a Ukrainian orphan with dwarfism, specifically Spondyloepiphyseal dysplasia congenita. Because of her disability she would need many surgeries for her feet, and money concerns related to this is considered one potential cause for what was to happen. After being passed around, a family called the Barnett's adopted her.

According them, Natalia was really an adult that was secretly trying to kill them. If it sounds familiar it's because it's the plot of the movie Orphan. This poor girl wound up with an incredibly abusive family that eventually decided they didn't want her but because the mother was so concerned with her image, she couldn't be seen as getting rid of a disabled child. So she tried to pass Natalia off as an adult pretending to be kid, and after lies and faked drama the Barnett's actually got Natalia legally re-aged to 22.

Natalia was actually about 8 years old. Dental records, DNA tests, doctor's records, her own biological mother, who gave her up because she couldn't care for a disabled child, all say she was born in 2003 and was a child at the time of these events.

So Natalia was put in an apt at age 8, and Mrs Barnett forced her to tell people she was 22. Ableism and ignorance of little people plays a huge part here, otherwise no one would have believed her age was 22 nor would it have been legally changed. Even though neighbors thought she was young, they went with the lie and proceeded to view entirely childish behavior as weird and annoying. Because she lacked the fucking boundaries and sense of stranger danger of a typical 8 year old!!!!! They also said she said a lot of sexually stuff, and I don't know why I should need to explain to you what 8 year olds do when they hear things!!! An 8 year old with no adult, looking to anyone for company and just help. It's beyond upsetting to think of what it must have been like for her during this time.

Natalia was evicted after a year and moved to another apartment. Not too long after being there she met a family that recognized she was a fucking child, took her in, and called the goddamn cops. First people in Natalia's poor life to do something for her. She is still with them to this day, with what looks like a beautiful loving family.

The Barnett's were charged, the husband was ables to get acquitted in part because the judge decided her Legal age would stand, and he could only be accused of abandoning a disabled person and not a minor. Meanwhile no one could let the jury know she was really a minor when this happened. Huge miscarriage of justice and the wife was never taken to trial.

It's a hard documentary to watch, especially when you get a lot of the Barnett's story first without much dissecting of the facts. But then you do get Natalia's side, and the Barnett's lies are laid to waste. One of them being that Natalia had pubic hair and a period. She never did, the wife made her say it to the husband. I mean, there's a lot of fucked up shit that happened to Natalia that I have not mentioned. I'm also not getting into the drama within the Barnett family except to say the husband tried to blame it all on the wife, claims he was abuse and avoids accountability, and is the most pathetic excuse for a human being, honestly. The wife is no better, she's just a monster.

The thing that pisses me off so much though are the attorneys, especially this one guy that Knows Natalia was a child and acts like she has to take accountability for being a troubled child. Of course he offers up all excuses for his client.

And that's the rub, Natalia had her childhood robbed from her, then and now. She's not ever granted the view of her behavior as mitigated by being a child. They even showed one of her neighbors refuses to accept she was 8 and not 22, and she knows for sure because she was hussy and just knows how to put on an act. It just amazes me how quick we are to jump to the most negative explanation for something and ignore any evidence to the contrary.

I'm just glad Natalia was able to have a voice in this drama, and that she finally has the family she had always wanted.

#natalia grace #ableism #abuse #child abuse #domestic abuse #adoption

[greypetrel]

30. "I don't know where to put my love" for Raina c:

Oooooh, this was perfect for her, thank you!! (in this I discovered that a baby raccoon is called a kit)

Tis the prompt list

A good punch.

( 4.049 words | CW: blood - mentions of split lips and broken teeth )

So tell me where to put my love Do I wait for time to do what it does? I don't know where to put my love - Florence + the Machine, "My Love"

“I did want to punch him, dad.”

She uttered between her teeth, mumbling on the words because her lips hurt like hell right now. She glared stubbornly at her feet, hand clasped in her father’s and hating every step and how the skirt of her dress kept sticking to her bloody knees. She hated skirts, and she hated the feeling of her hair, long and tangled and dirty, sticking to her cheek. But her mother won’t let her wear breeches for the festival, and won’t let her cut her hair short as she did with Garrett, and she didn’t really understand why.

But, as much as her mother had been the first to find her and drag her away from Bobby Oswald who laid under her and had a black eye and lost his front tooth, and she sharply refused to say a word to explain herself… She couldn’t lie to her father. She didn’t want to lie to him. So, when he barged in, placated the Oswalds and Leandra alike and grabbed her hand to take her away and “Have a good talk, I’m sure she didn’t mean to punch Bobby”… she waited just until they were far from the crowd and told him.

Malcolm looked down at her, raising one eyebrow.

“You want to get me angry as well, young lady?” He asked her, but there was amusement in his voice. That note of amusement that was always there and she craved, right now.

“He called Garrett a freak, and you a failure.”

She confessed, anger still burning hot in her chest and raising tears to her eyes. Malcolm didn’t say anything, but answered in tow as her hand clutched tight on his, in a silent comfort. He didn’t say anything, and just lead her around the corner and deep between the stalls that were installed in the small square in front of the Chantry. People selling food, mainly, trying to earn some extra money during the fair even if they had no cattle to sell and show, no crops to offer. They already visited the stalls, and begged Leandra far and wide for a treat. Their mother had bought her and Garrett a full slice of pumpkin pie each, and the twins a big cookie with nuts and raisins she split in two for the three years olds. And that was it. The rest of the stalls kept being a dream, even if Raina asked and pleaded for some candy floss. It was coloured and it was sweet and it looked fluffy: surely it was good, even if she never tasted it. It was also pricey, and something only the more well to do could afford. Not them. The year hadn’t gone well, and she already had her more healthy treat.

So, she didn’t raise her eyes, pretending not to be interested in the food. Pretending that all those perfumes didn’t make her mouth water and terribly curious to taste everything. She hadn’t been good, her mother made it plenty clear as she yelled at her for starting a brawl and breaking Bobby’s tooth. She didn’t listen when her father stopped and started to chat with someone. She convinced herself she wasn’t interested, and her mind went flying and concentrating on other thoughts, fingers playing nervously with the cloth of her skirt. That was it: she decided to think of all the things she could do with her skirt instead of wearing it.

And yet, when Malcolm pulled gently at her hand to catch her attention, Raina could only gasp, mouth falling open.

He stopped right in front of the candy floss stand, and both him and the vendor were looking at her, expectantly.

“So? Red, purple or yellow?” Malcolm prodded, with a smile.

“But-” She objected, looking between the two men with suspicion. “But mother said-”

“Your mother isn’t here. Or do you wish me to go and call her?” Malcolm winked. “But if you don’t want it…”

“No!” She gasped aloud, and both men chuckled at her. “Red!” She declared, and stopped a while, adding a last, less concitated “Please.”

“Ah, I knew it!” Malcolm exclaimed with a big smile, and turned to the vendor again. “What did I tell you? Did I win a free stick for being such a good father to remember my daughter’s favourite colour?”

In spite of everything, Raina giggled, ignoring how the movement sent a jolt of pain on her split lip, and how she felt wet trailing down her chin from it. As her father winked and insisted a little with a vendor that wasn’t fooled by her father’s wit, she licked the blood away, quickly. It only made the wound bleed more, and she grew irritated by it.

She didn’t mind her father slipping some coins out of his pocket, absent-mindedly greeted the vendor goodbye, and trodded along her father. The more she licked, the more blood it seeped out, and the more she scowled at it. It just wouldn’t stop.

She paid little attention, too focused on stopping the annoying trickle of blood even if it started to hurt, to mind her father quickening his step all so minutely as they passed the Chantry. “Least those nasty Mothers see our treat and come to steal it!” He told her, whispering conspiratively. She nodded along and quickened her steps as much as the legs of a girl of 8 could go, following her father without looking where he was headed.

So focused she was, that when he stopped she bumped right into his leg, so hard it hurt her lip and bruised cheek.

“Ouch!” She yelped, stepping back and pressing a hand on her cheek.

“Shit-” He grumbled, stopping abruptly as he noticed the swear. “Fuck-” He grumbled. “For Andraste’s- Don’t tell your mother. I’m sorry, kit.”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“Mh.”

He hummed, and left her hand, nodding towards the low stone wall that sided the river. He offered to help her up to sit there, but Raina scoffed, puffing her chest up with pride. Chanting that she was not a kit, she climbed up on her merry self. Bobby’s tooth cut her knuckles something nasty, and even if the bleeding stopped, it hurt when she scraped it against the stone. She bit it down bravely, grunting for that and how sore she was, and complaining because the nasty skirt made climbing unnecessarily difficult. But she managed, rolling on her belly on top of the wall and collecting her limbs on top, so she could kneel and go sit with her legs dwindling on the other side, up the water. Malcolm was much more graceful, and as soon as he was sitting too, she scuttled closer

“Do you want to talk about it?” Malcolm asked, caressing her head.

“No.”

“Raina.”

“He was mean, dad!” She grumbled, crossing her arms on her chest and looking down at the water, legs moving quicker. “He picked on Garrett, he called him a freak and pushed him, and said you are a failure that can’t… I don’t know, he used a weird word. You can’t do something for us, and it’s not true, and so I told him you’re the best dad in the world and to leave my brother alone, and he called me a Bug-eyes and he just didn’t stop.”

A hand came around her back and closed on the opposite shoulder, keeping her still as she thrashed around on the ledge. She shoved him off: she wasn’t a baby, and she wouldn’t fall. She never fell when she climbed, not anymore. Understanding she didn’t want to be touched, now, Malcolm let her speak, listened to her as she kept on with her tale.

“He shouldn’t have said those things, you’re right.” He convened, in the end. “It still doesn’t make it right to punch him, kit. You hurt him pretty badly.”

Raina turned towards him, a deep scowl on her face, and looked in his eyes -the same blue as hers- as she told him, this time lowering her voice.

“He told he was going to call the Templars, dad. That’s when I punched him. And why I’m not sorry.”

She watched as his father’s face darkened, something harsh making his way in his expression. It was his serious face, and Raina knew he understood. He always understood, when her mother never did and only scolded her.

“Maybe he was joking.” He proposed.

“I am still not sorry.” She proudly declared, turning towards the river again. “I don’t want that you and Garrett will be brought away because Bobby is mean and stupid.”

“Punching him isn’t a solution.”

“I bit him, too.”

Malcolm stilled at the news, and as Raina side-glanced at him, she saw him with his free hand on his mouth, covering it as he tried not to laugh. She knew he was scolding her for what she did and he that he was serious, but she snorted too, covering her mouth with both hands.

“Raina, I’m serious.” He scowled at her, but his eyes kept an amused glint.

“But you told me I need to defend my little siblings!”

“I know, kit. But you’re not a raccoon. You’re a person, and people talk.”

“But I tried, dad. I tried to tell him he was mean, but he just didn’t listen. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Come here.”

He sighed, and pulled her closer to his side. More prone to be touched, right now, she let him, and turned to hug his bust, pressing her face in his side. He put the fancy waistcoat, the one he only wore for special occasions, and it was rough against her sensible skin. But it was warm and comforting enough, it smelled like the lavender pouches her mother kept in the wardrobes, and she didn’t mind that she was probably staining it. The comfort provided was more important, and the way he kept her close by her shoulder, rubbing circles with his thumb.

“Do you still love me?”

“Of course, kit, what makes you think I don’t?”

“Mom was very angry. Mom loves Garrett best.”

He sighed, heavily. It wasn’t the first time the topic came up, and it always made Raina cry. This time was no different, and she clutched on her father tighter.

“I do love you, kit. Very much. Your mother does too, I swear. Quite a lot. She gets angry because you’re always getting into trouble and she worries.”

“But she told me I had to be a good sister and protect my siblings!”

“I don’t think she meant getting into a brawl and splitting your lip open. That’s what she worries about.” Malcolm explained, gently pushing the child away from him enough so he could see her face. “Let me see.”

Her lip indeed left a stain on his waistcoat, darker than the grey wool it was made of. He paid it no mind, and didn’t let Raina either, gently pushing her face up towards his. She sniffed and blinked tears away from her eyes, putting up a brave face. She was 8, she was too old for crying, and she stood straight, offering herself for the careful examination like a big, brave girl. Stupid tears couldn’t really stop, but she did her very best. He gently pushed on her cheekbone with his thumb, and apologized when the pressure made her flinch. And rubbed her lower lip, without using any magic. Even with some pressure -and she was ready this time, she just scrunched her nose and eyes- the bleeding didn’t stop, and Malcolm huffed at it.

“We should really think of something better than punching, for you.” He grumbled, fishing his handkerchief from a pocket and dabbing her lip with it. “Defending the people you love is great and commendable kit, and I’m so proud that you jumped to it and that you stood up to your choices.”

A pause.

“Don’t tell your mother I told you so.” He casted her a look, but his eyes were still amused. “I am very, very disappointed you shut up the most annoying kid in the village, I’m absolutely appalled that you punched and bit him and kicked him, and I expect you to be very contrite and remorseful when we get back, ok?”

He winked at her, and she giggled, nodding enthusiastically. She took the handkerchief and kept on dabbing her mouth herself, heart lighter as her father huffed in satisfaction. As she did, with her feet kicking the air before her, alternatively pushing on the stone and skipping forward, she saw Malcolm ripping a piece of cotton candy, finally, and look at it, considering.

“My point is, you have all this love… We need to find a way to use it better than punching people that offend it, tho. Somewhere to put it.”

“Like a closet?”

He chuckled, and offered her the sugar. Raina looked at it, unsure, and at her father. When he nodded in encouragement, she was quick in picking the piece up and bring it to her mouth. It was sweet and crinkled under her teeth before quickly melting in the most thrilling way, and it was the most delicious thing she ever ate. Of course, it was red. Red things were the best. It made Malcolm chuckle more, as he too took a bite.

“We can try and put it in a closet, but closets get full so easily. We need to try something else.”

“Like what?”

She asked, not fully understanding his words, and how love could be stored or put somewhere rather than somewhere else. She shrugged it off, tho, not wanting him to think she was too little and didn’t understand a grown-up concept. She was the eldest and she was big, after all, even if Garrett had magic and that could maybe made up for a year less. She just stretched her arm, fingers sticky with sugar, to take another piece of the candy.

“I don’t know. Hug puppies. Take care of animals. Knit. Count to a hundred before you act. Run in the morning so you’re tired during the day and your love doesn’t burst. Let the bullies run after you until they trip and fall by themselves and you can keep clean. Insult them without them knowing.”

Raina considered, with her mouth full of sugar.

“So mom won’t get worried?”

Malcolm turned and poked her ribcage, annoyingly enough, and again until she turned to bat his hand away, laughing because it tickled. He laughed with her, and waited enough for her to stop thrashing -she did so much that he had to catch her by the shoulder lest she fell into the river. When it was done, he was there, a smile on his face and a look that was really serious in his eyes.

“So we all won’t get worried.” He told her, in his serious voice that meant what he told was important and she should listen.

She nodded and jumped forward, hugging him tight.

“I am sorry I got you worried, dad.” She told him, drowned as she was in his chest.

He caressed her hair, and right then, the world was good and she didn’t feel the urge to move somehow, to bounce her leg or play with her hands.

“It’s fine, kit.” He sighed, relaxing minutely. “Just keep in mind that if you put your love into punches, people you love won’t be happy, they will be worried. Ok?”

Raina considered. It made sense, even if the concept of love was still a little weird and abstract.

“… But what if I don’t let them punch me back?”

“Raina-”

---

Something less than twenty years later, a lifetime distant from that afternoon in Greenfell, Raina kept considering that day on the stream, eating red candy they couldn’t afford with her father.

She stepped forward, turning her daggers in her hands, bending her neck left and right quickly to warm up and get ready. Her heart beat hard and fast in her ears, in anticipation and, partly, fear. On the other hand, only an idiot wouldn’t have been afraid, in her place, to be doing what she was about to do. Maybe she was not as scared as she should have been.

It wasn’t the time to reason, tho, or to consider any better. She took her father’s words to heart, and had been mindful to put her love to good use. Ironically enough, she learnt to talk and outwit people, and she took up knitting and adopted a dog. And she stopped throwing punches so often, because she learnt to wield daggers.

She stepped forward in the throne room, bouncing from one foot to the other, turning fear into adrenaline and not thinking that she most likely chose the stupidest place to put her love. And yet, she kept her chin up, back straight, and looked the Arishok right in his eyes with a challenge.

Her love went into a city that didn’t love her, into a mother and Carver who both lied six feet under, Bethany in the Circle and Garrett that was about to be brought there too, since the Knight-Commander saw him. Her love went into a mismatched rag-tag groups of misfits, just like her. Her love went into them and into fucking things up for them and with them.

She put her love into turning her back to Merrill, screaming for her and beating her hands against the bars that closed the Alienage for the invasion. She put her love into keeping her safe, because after what she did, after taking advantage of her in such a way and leaving her as she did, that was all she could do to her. Perhaps it would have mildened her memory for the elf. Not that she would have been there to see.

She put her love, lastly and firstly and more stupidly, into a woman that didn’t want it, that told her from the start that she didn’t, but that had it anyway.

She put her love in Isabela and into a duel she couldn’t win, and she cared not for anything else. Kirkwall could go fuck itself: if it weren’t for Bela, she would have left it to the Qun and see if the Arishok could have found her a spot she could finally fit in.

She clutched her hands tighter on the hilts of the daggers, feeling the supple leather of her father’s gloves pressing on her skin. She wondered what he would have thought, and if he would still be proud of her. She guessed she was about to find out.

“Raina, please-”

She heard Garrett from behind. He was the only one, now, to call her by her name, and it was too little. She wasn’t a Hawke: Hawke had been her father, and she made a treasure of his words, she missed him like air, and she stubbornly decided that he was right, but not always.

Some people really needed a good punch.

#dragon age #dragon age II #da2 #female hawke x isabela #malcolm hawke #raina hawke #writing petrel #da fic #dragon age fanfiction #ficlet

[stars-of-kyber]

“I got you a present.” - Kanthony. Modern Au or Canon - I leave it up to you.

Look, I started with a short little idea on my head and it kind of… got away from me?

This is pure fluffy fluff.

Enjoy!

________________________________

Very early into her relationship with Anthony Bridgerton, or maybe even a bit before they’d actually been together, Kate realized that, although her now husband was very bad at expressing it, he was a person that loved very deeply. He was just truly terrible with words.

Anthony’s love language was not words of affirmation, nor physical touch. Actually, he was so touch starved that he looked awed every time Kate, who’s love language was physical touch, entwined their fingers as they walked or rested her hand on his tight when they sat down, a goofy, adorable smile lightening his entire face.

No, Anthony Bridgerton’s love language was acts of service and gift giving. He wouldn’t hesitate a moment to drop everything he was doing if anyone close to him needed him. Even before they moved together, Anthony always made sure to have his fridge stocked with her favorites, her shampoo and soap in his bathroom and he went so far as to change toothpastes when he realized she didn’t really like the one he used. He drove his siblings to their several extracurricular activities whenever he could, sometimes sitting to watch Hyacinth’s whatever her new hobby at the moment was. He offered to take Gregory to the mall when he noticed his brother was starting to outgrow his clothes. He made sure Francesca’s piano was always properly tuned every time she came home from Scotland on holidays.

But he was a little… excessive with the gift giving.

Greg wanted to go to EuroDisney on his birthday, so he took his brother to EuroDisney on his birthday. Violet had gotten expensive diamond earrings for Mother’s Day because they simply reminded him of her. Hyacinth had wanted riding lessons, so he just went and got her a pony. An actual, living breathing animal that now lived happily on Aubrey Hall’s stables.

She supposed one of the perks of having an exorbitant amount of money was that he could really splurge on his presents. And Kate, who spent her teen years managing a very tight family budget, had a bit of a hard time adjusting to it.

Every week since the beginning of their relationship, Anthony bought her a bouquet of tulips, because she made the mistake of once mentioning to him that nobody had ever given her flowers. She had eyed a pair of shoes in a shop, so he went in and got them for her. He gave her a new laptop for her first birthday as his girlfriend because hers was, admittedly, falling apart and she was too stubborn to get a new one herself. She once sighed because her work bag started to tear at the seam and two days later he showed up with a beautiful brand new leather bag for her that Kate had found out had cost more than her month’s rent. She made a rule of never checking the price of his gifts again after that.

Arguing with him over it didn’t work. He’d just tell her it was his money to do whatever he wanted with, completely unmoved to any argument she might have against spending his money on her. Refusing the gifts only led him to look very sad and dejected while he sighed “well, I chose it for you.” quite miserably and, really, Kate was not as immune to his sad pouts as she’d liked to pretend. So she learned how to quell her pride down and resign herself to his maniac, expensive gift giving.

So every time Anthony Bridgerton turned to her and said “I got you a present”, she’d steel herself to see whatever he’d done that time.

—————————————-

“Anthony, is this a car?” She watched as Anthony smiled happily by her side.

“Happy Christmas, love.” He replied shamelessly, kissing the hand where he’d placed an engagement ring just a month before and placing the car’s key on her open palm. She stared from his face, to the key, back to his face, her mouth agape.

“Babe, what the hell?” His smile dimmed as he tried to read her expression.

“You don’t like it? He ran his hand through his hair, shifting nervously on his feet. "If you’d like a different model, or another colour…”

“Anthony, it’s exactly the type of car I’d pick.” She sighed, her hand resting on his cheek. “But this is way too much.”

“You deserve that and so much more, Katie.” His lips pressed softly against her palm with a chuckle as she rolled her eyes at him.

“Anthony…”

“Hy and Greg helped me pick it out, so you can consider it their present as well.”

“Oh, now that makes it all better." Sarcasm dripped from her words, but he didn’t seem bothered by it.

“Honestly Kate, you needed a new car.” He had turned, walking back into the house they shared, dropping to the sofa next to a happy Newton with a pet to his head. “That thing you called a car is not coming back from the mechanics and you know it.”

“I was just going to take the tube like any normal carless person!” She crossed her arms in front of her chest stubbornly, looking down at her shameless fiancé and her treacherous dog.

“And now you don’t have to anymore.” He shrugged, unperturbed, making her groan. “Honestly, what’s the big deal?”

“It’s a bloody CAR Anthony!” He looked up at her for a moment, before tugging on her arm until she was tumbling into his lap.

“So?”

“You can’t keep buying me ridiculously expensive things, love.” She sighed, the fight clearly lost. Anthony would most certainly not return the car. He would rather let it sit unused in the garage for the rest of his life than return it. And, even if she loathed to admit it, a car would make her life terribly easier.

“Sure I can.” His lips were trailing a path of kisses from the side of her face to her neck. “I’m pretty sure I did, actually.”

“You’re infuriating, did you know that?” Her eyes closed as he bit softly over her pulse point.

“You like to remind me of it everyday. How could I forget?”

“I’ve only got you a suitcase and some lingerie for you to unwrap from me.” She could feel him still behind her, his muscles tensing, his intake of breath at her words hot on her ear.

“Honestly, I’d say I’ve got the best presents from the two of us, apparently." Anthony pulled on her neckline, trying to glimpse under it, his other hand sneaking up her waist under her shirt. “Can I see it?”

“The suitcase?” She asked, batting her lashes innocently, making him groan.

“Kate.”

“Come on, show me my new car, hotshot.”

————————————-

“Anthony! You cannot see the bride on the wedding day!” Daphne’s voice rang around the suite from the closed door, her brother’s exasperated huff following it.

“But I got a present for Kate!” She rolled her eyes. Of course Anthony would a present for her. She wasn’t exactly sure why she hadn’t seen it coming. She was half expecting him to give her something the night before, when Edwina burst into their bedroom declaring Kate would be spending the night with her in her room, since it was unlucky for him to see his fiancée before the wedding. He had scoffed petulantly, a little bit like an annoyed child, which Kate knew she shouldn’t find so adorable, before pulling her into a kiss that left her legs shaking and allowing her sister to tug her from the room. She imagined he’d just give her something after the ceremony or during the reception.

There was some movement and rushed voices in the antechamber before the door connecting the two rooms opened and Anthony was pushed inside. Kate’s heart melted at the sight of him, his tie still loose around his neck, his blue waistcoat unbuttoned and his hair carefully styled. Around his eyes, his sister had tied the string of one of the bridesmaids’ silky robe, covering them. It was so adorable it sent Kate’s heart beating wildly on her chest, reality sinking in around her. She was going to spend the rest of her life with this hot, ridiculous, lovely man.

“I swear to God, Anthony, if you remove that blindfold, I will know.” Her pregnant sister-in-law threatened menacingly, before closing the door behind her, Edwina and Eloise’s laughter ringing behind it.

“Couldn’t wait to see me?” She asked with a glint of humor in her voice, stepping close enough to him so he could reach out and touch her.

“Yeah, had to make sure you weren’t going to run off on me.” He laughed, his hand finding her arm, his fingers trailing down until he had his hand wrapped around hers.

“I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me anymore, Mr. Bridgerton.” Kate used his loose tie to pull him closer, their chests touching, before she pressed her lips to his in a kiss that ended way too soon.

“Thank God.” He mumbled into her mouth, his smile almost blinding. “I got a present for you, actually.”

“I thought you said we weren’t doing the whole wedding presents thing.” She raised her eyebrows at him, even if he couldn’t see it.

“Honestly, I didn’t really expect you to believe it.” He shrugged, unabashed, twirling the velvet jewelry box in his hand before offering to her. “It’s not exactly a wedding present anyway. I’m just giving it to you now in case you might want to wear them now.”

“If it’s a set of wedding rings, you’re going to have to wait until…” Her voice died in her throat as she stared at the set of earrings and necklace in the open box in her hand. The delicate, intrinsic patterns of green and gold of the jewelry matched perfectly with the bangles carefully placed around her wrists. Her mother’s wedding bangles. One of the only possessions she still had of her birth mother. Her eyes filled with tears as she ran her fingers over the green gems.

“I know how much you love your mother’s bangles.” He explained coyly. “I thought you might like to make it a set. Maybe something you could pass down to our daughter one day.” It was too much. The gift, the way he spoke so casually of their future together, not a doubt in his mind they’d be blissfully happy. She jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him soundly, pouring all her love into it.

“You are the most amazing man I’ve ever met.” She said, the words a bit choked by her tears, as she pressed her forehead to his, his content sigh filling her heart with so much joy she was half scared she might burst. “I’m so happy to be marrying you.”

“Not nearly as much as I am to be marrying you.” Anthony smiled, his arms wrapped carefully around her waist. “I’d offer to put them on you, but you know…” He gestured to his blindfolded eyes. “Unlucky and all.”

“Hum, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” She hummed, her nimble fingers pulling on the loose ends of his tie, tying it carefully as she used to do every morning before he left for work. “I actually got you a present as well.” She mumbled timidly.

“I thought we agreed on no wedding presents?” She could see his arched eyebrows under the satin sash, his lips curling in a silly, cocky smirk.

“You were right, I didn’t really believe you when you came up with that.” His laugh echoed around the walls and right into her heart. Kate watched as he traced his fingers over the silvery cufflinks on the box she had placed in his open palm, his smirk turning soft as he felt the little details on the circular silver links.

“Are these…?”

“Tulips. True love and all.” She hummed, pulling them from the box reverently. Kate had spent hours trying to come up with something to give her soon-to-be husband on their wedding. It was a bit difficult finding a gift for a man who had everything. But in the end she settled on something he could carry around on him, their flower, the ones he got her every week, the ones on her wedding bouquet, resting right over his pulsepoint. “I had our names engraved under them as well.”

She pulled his hands to her, carefully arranging the cufflinks in each of his sleeves with a smile. She had actually had her name engraved as Kate Bridgerton, which would come to be true in just a couple of hours anyway. She’d let him see that part for himself.

“I’m so happy sometimes I don’t really believe it.” He whispered, his lips pressing over hers tenderly.

“I know. I never knew I could be this happy before.” Her fingers trailed his cheek as she sighed joyfully. If, three years ago you’d tell Kathani Sharma she’d be marrying the love of her life, feeling that type of love she’d grown up admiring from her Appa and Mary, she might have laughed and told you that kind of thing wasn’t really for her. And yet, there they were.

She could barely wrap her mind around it.

“Time’s up lovebirds, the guests are starting to arrive and both of you still need to finish getting ready.” Edwina was by the door, her hand on her hips. “You’ll have the rest of your lives for cuddles, come on.”

“I’ll see you at the altar, I suppose.” He smirked, placing one last kiss on her cheek.

“I’ll be the one in white.” She laughed, as Ewdina started pulling him from her and outside the room.

“I can’t wait!” He called out, just before the door shut behind him.

And really, neither could she.

———————————————���—-

By the time they had been married for 10 months, Kate was mostly sure there was nothing Anthony could get her anymore, because she had absolutely everything she had ever wanted.

In hindsight, she shouldn’t have been so naive. He’d always find a way to surprise her, anyway.

Her husband had shuffled into their living room quietly, settling himself next to her and Newton on the sofa, something clutched tightly into his hand.

“I got you a present.” It wasn’t the usually lively sentence, full of confidence and excitement she was used to. This time it was nearly shy, his eyes darting a little nervously, the tip of his ears turning a bit red.

“From your day out with Hy?” She nested contently into his waiting arms, feeling the warmth of him envelope her.

“Hyacinth thought it would be fun if we took a knitting lesson together.” He scoffed, as if he’d ever refuse anything his littlest sister suggested to spend time together. “And I’ve made you this.” He pushed the thing he had been holding onto her hands, the blush taking over his entire face as he avoided her curious eyes. “They’re socks.”

“Socks?” In her hand, she had what would probably be the ugliest, most uneven pair of brown socks in existence. Anthony really wasn’t the most talented in the arts and crafts department.

“I was going to make them purple but Hy took the last bit of purple yarn they had.” He shrugged. “She knitted a pretty nice hat.”

“You made these for me?” She asked, her entire body flooding with affection for her embarrassed husband.

“Yeah. I know how your feet always get ridiculously cold at night, so I thought you might like them.” He shrugged, his voice so shy and unsure it only made the burning behind Kate’s eyes stronger. “They are not really great but…”

“They are the best gift I’ve ever got.” Her voice was raspy from the tears running down her cheeks. His eyes snapped to her face, surprised.

“Katie…” His hands immediately moved to her cheeks, pushing the wet tracks away. “They’re just…”

“No!” She snapped, pulling his free hand to her lap. “Anthony, you made these, actually created it from scratch, for me.” She pressed her lips to his fingers tenderly, fighting the fresh wave of tears pooling in her eyes. The idea of him, sitting in a class with his sister, thinking about her cold feet at night, putting an effort in a solution to it, was the most endearing thing she had ever heard. “I love them.”

“But they’re really ugly.” He mumbled lamely, motioning to the brown lump she had shoved up her feet.

“Do not shittalk my favorite pair of socks, Anthony Bridgerton!” She swung her feet happily, enjoying how actually pretty warm they were.

“Whatever you say, love.” He sighed with a chuckle, kissing her cheek, his hand caressing her hair softly, her back tucked tightly to his chest. He had learned long ago how useless it was to argue with her when she set her mind into things. If she wanted to love her hideous warm socks, he wasn’t the one to complain about it.

Watching the ugliest, most lovely pair of socks on her feet in the comfort of her husband’s arms, Kate couldn’t help but allow her mind to drift to the present she had made to him, the one hidden on a gift box between her sweaters in her side of the closet. To the cute little mug she had hand painted herself, the words Best Dad in the World painted in purple like a silly little cliche. She couldn’t help but imagine his reaction when he opened it, how his surprised face would light up beautifully as he read the words. Would his eyes fill with tears? Would his words be choked on his lips? Would he pick her up, spinning her around the room in joy?

Well, she would find out soon enough, she supposed.

She let her imagination fly free, conjuring a vision of the future, an image of a little baby with her curls and his smile, theirs. Of a little boy clutching her hand as they walked. Of Anthony with a little girl perched on his shoulders. The little family they’ve always talked about, always desperately wanted, so full of joy and love.

It was the best present she could have ever asked for.

Send me a pairing and a number and I'll write you a drabble.

#Kanthony #Kathony #kate bridgerton #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #Bridgerton #my writing #my fic #fanfic #bridgerton fanfic #Kanthony fanfic #Anthony Bridgerton is a simp for his wife and he’s not sorry about it #I’m sorry for any mistakes #Fluff #fluffy prompts #prompts #modern AU

[aromanticbuck]

The Platt Gerwitz Siblings

“You’d better behave while we have that girl in the house.” “Why do I have to live with some little sister I’ve never met, exactly?” “Because your father decided to screw around and make her.” “Then why am I the one being punished?” “Gregory, you are not being punished for your father’s behavior.” “Really? Because it feels like I am.” “It’s only for a few months until the media finds something else to focus on. I’m sure she’ll be out of our hair again by the start of the school year.”

When the whispers began around the city about Gregory Gerwitz III and his affairs, enough people dug a little deeper than the surface. Within days, the articles and blog posts were everywhere, sharing theories with plenty of evidence that there was more than one child in the Gerwitz bloodline. In a desperate attempt to save his reputation and his marriage, Gregory made the decision to bring one of those children into his home, offered a nice house, paid for an expensive education, and that was enough for his lawyers to negotiate for full custody of a daughter.

The girl, Kimberly, was the perfect addition to the household. She was a few months away from starting high school, one signed check away from being accepted into her first year at one of the best prep schools in the city, the perfect age to be taught everything she might need to know for her future, and now every family picture would have every key component - father, mother, son, daughter. She was the perfect solution to all of his problems, and he hardly had to do anything at all - just sign a couple checks, and the paperwork that would legally change her last name to Gerwitz, and one of the extra rooms could easily be converted into any teenage girl’s dream bedroom.

The thing was, Kim didn’t want to be a Gerwitz. She didn’t want to go to an expensive private school with a uniform. She didn’t want to move into the big house. All it held was a father she didn’t even know, a step mother who ignored her existence, and a half brother who would rather scowl at her than actually give her a ride school. It was miserable, and isolating, and she spent all of her free time hidden away in her bedroom with headphones and school books. If she could make it through the next four years until she was a legal adult, she could take the money in whatever bank account her father had set up for her and get out, as far away as she could.

At least, that was her attitude through the summer and the first months of the school year. Then, things started to change.

“Look, Kimberly, I-” “I know you don’t like me, Greg. You don’t have to explain it all to me.” “What? No, I wanted to say... I know my mother can be a lot. She has a lot of high expectations, and a plan for everything. And if anyone deviates from her plan...” “Like her husband moving his child into her home? That’s a pretty big deviation.” “Yeah. Like that. It’s nothing against you, personally, I’m sure.” “Right...” “Do you want to do something today? I have to stay late for practice, but after that?” “What, exactly, would we be doing?” “I don’t know. I didn’t think this far ahead.” “Fine. But your mother will kill us if we’re late for dinner.” “Oh, believe me, I know.”

By the time the first snow of the season started to fall, there was a new energy in the house. Instead of scowling, Greg smirked across the dinner table when certain comments were made. The morning drives to school weren’t spent in silence anymore. Once a week, after they were let out of school and he was done with his fencing coach, they took the long way back to the house and stopped for ice cream. It probably ruined their appetites for dinner, but they both preferred to spend an extra hour together than sit in a quiet house for all that time.

They were pretending less, when it came to family photos, and Greg knew the best hiding spots at the winter charity gala so they didn’t have to mingle and make small talk. He even wove through the crowd so smoothly that he could swipe two glasses of champagne from a passing tray without anyone batting an eye. For the first time, in a dim back office with a little too much alcohol, they were free. There was no family pressure when no one could see them, and there was nothing to do but talk, especially when the champagne ran out and neither of them wanted to risk sneaking out to get more.

Tipsy discussions just happened to lead to secrets and confessions, and a stronger bond than any member of the family could have foreseen.

“Wanna know something else? I think you disrupt my mother’s plans less than I do.” “I doubt it. You’re perfect, and she hates me.” “She doesn’t hate you. She hates what you represent. And I only pretend to be perfect.” “You have a perfect GPA, you spend weekends with homeless animals, and you won all of your matches last year.” “Yeah, I’m perfect, for now. After I graduate next year...” “You’ll be perfect at college?” “She wants me to get a business degree here in Chicago and have an equally perfect girlfriend where all the cameras can see.” “So? You get to take over the family business and have a perfect wife and perfect kids.” “What if... what if I don’t want that? What if I want to go to MIT and have a boyfriend, instead?” “Oh...” “Yeah...” “...welcome to the disappointments, Greg.”

They probably should have known from the very beginning - those first four years weren’t an obstacle to everything she wanted. They were the easy part.

#kim burgess #mouse gerwitz #greg gerwitz #greg mouse gerwitz #cpd #chicago pd #one chicago #the platt siblings #gerwitz siblings* #alex does moodboards #gregory gerwitz iii #thelma gerwitz #we hate the gerwitz parents here #but the kids are good #they're doing their very best #also if you want to know anything about this universe PLEASE ask #many thoughts all about them #they both just want out!!! #anyway yes my inbox is very open

[mermaidsirennikita]

Which romance novels where the heroine is a hustler or con artist?

Hmm, I haven't read that many but I have a few.

Baron by Joanna Shupe--historical, Gilded Age. The heroine is a fake medium who puts on this whole seance show, because she's supporting her younger siblings. The hero (a railroad baron, naturally) is super miffed about it because she's conning a political ally of his, so he sets out to fuck her over but ends up like... fucking her instead. I really liked this one, and it's quite hot.

What A Rogue Desires by Caroline Linde--historical. Heroine is a con artist who dupes the rakish second son guy, and ends up stealing something important from him. He's determined to not look like a total clown (again), especially since his brother left him charge while traveling, so obviously he KIDNAPS her and KEEPS HER CAPTIVE LOL. He's honestly not a very hardcore kidnapper, so they end up falling in love.

The Duke and the Lady in Red by Lorraine Heath--historical, a favorite Lorraine for me. The hero is this totally debauched duke guy who will never love, and he thinks he's seducing an innocent widow when in fact she is conning him. Once he realizes this, he catches her before she leaves, but he is so keen to fuck the shit out of her that he offers her all the money she needs in exchange for a week in his bed. Shockingly, but not because Lorraine, it's quite emotional.

Would I Lie to the Duke by Eva Leigh--historical, has SHADES of this. The heroine is more lying than conning, but she's still duping the hero. She has this family business she's trying to save, and she wants to present it at this sort of like small business expo thing for investors, but she can't get in. So she ends up pretending to be this upper crust lady, and the rakish hero falls for her. It's got a Cinderella vibe.

The Wolf and the Wildflower by Stacy Reid--historical, not so much a con as it is a MASSIVE LIFELONG LONG CON. The heroine was raised disguised as a boy by her mother, and has continued to live this disguise all her life. Her dad has no idea, and the heroine plans on continuing the bit so that she can continue to be a psychiatrist like him. She ends up being summoned to help treat the hero, who was like... shipwrecked and basically lived among wolves for years in the Yukon, I kid you not. WOLF DUKE!!! But because wolf duke has a keen sense of smell and can smell pussy, he immediately knows she's got a vagina, so it's on.

Heartbreaker by Sarah MacLean--historical, and somewhat. Adelaid uses her powers for good now, but she's an accomplished thief. The hero is a stuff duke who is uh, obsessed with her, and because she's known for "breaking" bad matches, they end up on a roadtrip together to stop his brother from making a shitty marriage. Many shenanigans and sex ensues.

#romance novel blogging #book recs

[nomorerww]

What was the most disappointing Christmas gift you saw someone get?

I get choked up telling this but I will. In 1987 I was 7 years old, my parents had divorced and my father paid my mother $20 a month for 3 kids. Now this was pretty pathetic already, but he had not paid her for 6 months. Anyhow my mother was struggling to make ends meet, we had very little food in the house and I did not know it at the time but my mum was starving so the food would last longer for us kids. Christmas day my father turns up and accuses my mother of being a drug addict (I assure you she's not) and told her I'm not paying cash anymore or she will spend it in drugs. He gave her a Christmas card and inside was 2 gift cards for the local supermarket totalling $200, he even said “Merry Christmas" to her as this was all the owed money and then some more. My mother did not care, she would have used $200 cash for food anyhow. She took what little she had in cash and used it to buy fuel for her car, we drove to the supermarket and loaded two trollies (1987 $200 went a long way) mum even purchased Froot Loops for us kids, it was a happy day…… Well until we got to the check out. The bill came to $199.90, mum presented the 2 gift cards, they were both declined. People stared at her, and the store accused her of stealing the gift cards, they told her to leave or they would call the police. People stared at us, and my mother left so embarrassed. My younger brother was 4, he was crying as the Froot Loops were taken from his hands.

What actually happened: My deadbeat father stole the gift cards from the store, however their is no money in them despite them saying $100 on each. You see if you want to purchase the card you need to take them to the counter and pay the face value, then the card is activated and can be used in the store. A few days later my mother collapsed from starvation, we had apple trees next door at the neighbours farm, we took some for my mother, she ate apples for 5 days straight. It gets worse however, when my father was confronted by my mother a big argument broke out, my father accused my mother of lying and then refused to pay her any child support for another 4 months as he had given her $200.

Over the course of 6 years my father paid a grand total of $60 for us 3 children. In 2002 when I was 22, out of sheer coincidence, I saw my father enter a bar. I sat next to him he pretended like nothing had happened, he offered to buy my drink I told him “I don't want anything from you" and paid for my own drink, the tension was so thick at this point. He started talking about how “that was the past and it's okay now.” I finished my drink, opened my wallet and pulled out $60. I sat it in the bar in front of him and said “that is everything I owe you, don't you ever f@cking contact me or my brother's again.” Then left the bar, I honestly have no idea where he is today, and I really do not care.

Update: Wow! 6500 upvotes, I don’t know what to think, or say. My heart hurts, I really had lost such faith in the human race, I just gave up and have not told this story for nearly 15 years thinking no one would actually care. To see this many upvotes is amazing, and the nice messages that people have left has really restored my faith in humanity. I thank all of you so much for this support. I'm going to see my mother in 3 months when she gets back from her holiday. I will definitely show her this post, and read her all the wonderful things people have said.

Update 21st March 2023: if this gets to 10,000 likes I think I will have a heart attack. My mother is doing really well for those who are wondering. Currently she is on holiday in Vietnam, and she is really enjoying herself. The Vietnamese are wonderful people, and they are treating her with such respect, they are always will to help her out.

Can everyone scroll down and please give Laura Dragon an upvotes. What her brother to her breaks my heart, I can only imagine the pain she must be feeling.

#jfc #men #fatherhood

[thislovintime]

Peter Tork, 1964 (photo by Bob Campbell); and 1965.

“When Peter flunked out of college, he went to New York, where he sang and played in pass-the-hat coffee houses. After a tour as an accompanist for the Phoenix Singers, he came to Los Angeles (‘I’d had it up to here with the Village, so when someone offered to put me up out here, I came. I worked around Long Beach as a kitchen boy and accompanist for different groups. When I heard about the ad in Variety, I didn’t want to go, but I had let my hair grow in the Village, so I was ready for the part. Now I’m glad. When The Monkees made a personal appearance in New York, and the girls screamed, “It’s them!”, it was thrilling. And now my parents are proud of my success. The last time I went home, I lorded it over the other kids. My little sister doesn’t even think of me as her brother any more - she thinks of me as a TV star.’) Peter’s father, Prof. H. John Thorkelson, says, ‘Naturally, we were disturbed when he went to Greenwich Village. But we always felt he should do what he wanted to do. However, we always thought he was college material.’” - TV Guide, January 28, 1967

“Peter Tork's ticket to stardom was definitely marked ‘round trip.’ Eight years ago he would pass the hat around an old folk's club and hope that it would come back full. Most of the time it didn't, so to pay the rent his folks sent him a few bucks every month. A few years ago money was the last thing on his mind: he was making hundreds of thousands of dollars and singing to millions, screaming millions. Today he dreams of $60 days as a street singer in San Francisco’s Ghiradelli Square, but they never happen. So last month his mother paid his dental bill. He spends most of his time now as one of over thirty choir members, who think of him as ‘Mr. Show Biz’... but he’s not. A few years ago he was one of four... and people thought he was dumb... but he wasn't. He was another Greenwich Village folkee in the days when there were a lot of Greenwich Village folkees. He worked there for three years singing and accompanying groups like the Phoenix Singers and he might still be back there today if it weren’t for Steven Stills. The producers of this T.V. show liked Steven Stills fine, his music and everything. Everything except his screen test. He wasn’t, in their words, photogenic enough. So they asked him if he knew anybody who was like him that photographed a little better. Steven Stills told them about this kid in the Village he knew who looked a little like him. Peter Tork. Peter Tork went down and got the part that Steve Stills almost had. Peter Tork became a Monkee. Each Monkee was allowed to create his own image. Michael Nesmith’s was that of a wise old country boy. Davy's was cool, cute and English. Micky was crazy and wild. Peter was dumb. It was an image he carefully nurtured and developed on the Greenwich Village stage. He found it easy humor. And he used it. One step behind the others. Smiling through it all. Peter drifts away amidst memories of those good times: ‘I was happy to be playing as a Monkee so I would allow myself to pretend that I was happy pretending I was playing.’” - San Diego Reader, December 6, 1973

Times: “Is the Monkees character something you came up with it? Or did they tell you to play him dumb?” Peter Tork: “It's a character I came up with during the personality tests, those black and white bits we did. It was a character I created on the Greenwich Village folk stages basically to protect myself from the crushing silence of a bad joke.” - St. Petersburg Times, June 23, 2000

#Peter Tork #Tork quotes #early 1960s #60s Tork #1960s #<3 #70s Tork #00s Tork #Fairfax Street Choir #Phoenix Singers #The Monkees #Monkees #long read #love his mind #1964 #1965 #TV Guide #San Diego Reader #St. Petersburg Times #can you queue it

[smilesvt]

the little magic music shop

hoshi x reader

genre: FLUFFFF

warnings: none really ! a lil bit of sadness, hoshi just being cute

8:32am. he was late, again. i had gotten used to it by now; there was really no point setting up meeting times with hoshi.

he always seemed to have some sort of excuse : 'i woke up late' 'i ran out of toothpaste' ' my hairdryer broke'. as i sat on the bench waiting, i wondered what he was going to come up with today.

a couple moments later, a bike skidded to a halt at my feet. looking up, the rider flashed a sheepish smile at me, rubbing the back of his neck.

'you’re-’

'late again. i know.' he finished my sentence.

'this time my hairdryer actually did break.' he pointed at the damp, curly mess atop his head. i sighed.

'at least i know what to get you for your birthday then .' i joked, sitting down on the back of the bike and smacking his arm.

'and for that, you can work the till today.'

'no PLEASE-' however i couldnt finish my sentence, as hoshi abruptly began pedaling away as i scrambled to hold onto his waist.

this was our daily commute to work: me on the back of hoshis trusty old bike that i had got him for his 18th birthday. we knew this route like the back of our hands, yet i never got bored of it. the morning breeze blew through our hair, and the sun was bathing the streets with pinks and oranges.

before we started working, neither of us had enough money to even buy bus fare with. hence why hoshi began picking me up and dropping me off at our designated spot.

and although we can afford it now, hoshis never mentioned stopping this daily occurrence , so i guess it'll carry on till his legs get too weak to carry us both.

~~~

'hey could you tie the bike up? i have to pop in somewhere quickly-' hoshi asked, braking outside our workplace and quickly jumping off.

i pretended to not see him rush into the bakery next door, assuming he wanted to surprise me.

sure enough, as i finished tying the bike around the lamp post, i turned around to see a satsified hoshi step out of the bakery door. his toothy grin seemed to be sparkling in the sunlight, and he rushed over to me, his eyes glinting.

'here's a lovely pastry for the equally lovely lady' he bowed slightly, handing me one of the bags.

'and a warm baguette for the handsome gentleman.' he wiggled his eyebrows, and i couldn't help but laugh at how dorky he is.

'why thank you good sir. should we head in now?' i giggled and gestured to the shop door and he nodded.

i fumbled around with the keys and managed to open the door.

'ah, home sweet home.' hoshi sighed, walking over to hang his backpack on the coat hooks.

we worked in a music store, as we had been doing for about 3 years now.

hoshi was right: it really was like our home. the store had belonged to his mother, and it was her gift to him before she moved away. as much as he resented her, he decided to keep the small business going. and of course, being hoshi's bestfriend and music being my passion, i wanted to help him out as much as i could.

the work pace was slow, with only the occassional customer coming in to buy vinyl for a loved one, or random teenage girls coming in and browsing at seemingly nothing. days were long and tedious, yet i wouldn't give it up for the world. something about the late candlelit nights with slow jazz playing in the back whilst i read and hoshi sang made it all worth it.

'deep in thought?' hoshi questioned, breaking me out of my reminiscing.

'just remembered something, dont worry.' i smiled at him.

he smiled back, curled up on the sofa we had once randomly found outside someones house. i remember us dragging it down the street in the pouring rain, our clothes soaked and muscles aching, until some nice man offered to pick it up for us. all was well, until we struggled to fit it through the door. i chuckled to myself at the memory: i seemed to be feeling nostalgic today.

'you seem to be in a good mood today love.' he spoke, though muffled, his mouth full of bread.

'and you seem to be a mess today.' i chuckled as i sat down next to him.

he jokingly rolled his eyes. 'shut up and eat.'

and we did, the silence only being broken by chirping birds or us bursting out laughing when we made eye contact. the pastry was my favourite flavour too: he always seemed to know these little things about me that i can never recall ever telling him.

however our eating was cut short by a surprising ring as the door to the store opened and a man walked in. we both shot up as i hurried to wipe the crumbs off my skirt.

'm-morning sir.' hoshi began to approach the older man, yet i noticed his face covered in bread. i quickly pulled him to me by the front of his shirt and wiped his cheeks.

'nearly embarrased yourself.' i tutted.

'i can always count on you honey' he flashed a smile at me and walked off to the customer, his upbeat, friendly persona swiftly showing as he spoke, 'how can i help you on this fine gorgeous day sir?'

i smiled to myself as i walked behind the counter, watching him talk away with the gentlemen, his smile never fading.

~~~

the rest of the day went by as always: only a few more people walked in and out, and it was beginning to grow dark.

'$90 today, not too shabby.' hoshi nodded as he counted the cash from the till.

'pretty good.' i agreed, lighting the last candle at the front of the store. the weather outside seemed to have gotten worse since i last checked, the rain now pattering against the window.

'are you still saving up for the new bike'?

'yeah, but ive got a little while left till i can afford it.' he chuckled, although solemnly.

'you know, we can always get the bus now.' i replied, laying down onto the sofa.

hoshi looked at me and laughed.

'never. not until i get old and cant pedal anymore anyways. what about your camera?'

'ill get it...someday.'

we made eye contact and laughed again.

the rain seemed to be getting louder, and hoshi sat onto a stool opposite from me. the low buzz of the radio seemed to be interrupted by talking, and he turned it up for us both to hear.

'torrential downpour... imagine we get stuck in here AGAIN.' i sighed.

'i mean it wouldnt be awful-'

'you dont remember last year when we got snowed in?'

it was awful. the snow was so high we couldn’t see out of our shop window. hoshi cried but i decided not to remind him. either way, we nearly ran out of food and had to huddle together for warmth. awful.

‘i mean, at least we had each other.’ he shrugged. i guess he was right: without him dancing and making it really awkward when we hugged i probably would have got frostbite.

‘60s soft jazz or 90s rock-indie?’ hoshi suddenly asked, stood in the corner of the store holding two vinyls.

‘hmmm... definitely soft jazz.’ i sat up from the sofa.

he smiled. ‘i should’ve known. you’ve always been after my own heart.’

i felt my cheeks flare up and a small smile forming at my mouth.

‘y’know, this is where my parents met.’ hoshi spoke, staring out the window as the smooth sounds of a swing band began to play.

‘this shop?’

‘yup. my mom worked here and one day, a fairly handsome man walked in. safe to say, after he kept coming in everyday my mum seemed to get the hint.’

‘did your dad like music?’

‘he was a musician. in a band. they never got anywhere or did much , but he really enjoyed it.’

he never spoke about his father much, so hearing this was all new to me. his voice seemed to be breaking every couple words.

‘im sure he’s proud of you, wherever he is.’

‘i’d like to think so too. after all, he’s the reason i always wanted to go to music school.’ my heart shattered at those words as i saw hoshi look down at his feet.

music school. his dream. i knew this was a touchy subject, so we never talked about it much. but i knew how much it hurt: hoshi had always talked about becoming a singer and dancer, performing up on stage with his loved ones and showing his passion to his fans.

so when the fees grew too big for a lone teen to afford, he knew he had to let it go. i remember feeding him when he refused to eat, as he blamed it all on himself. and since then, i made a promise to myself: always make sure hoshi has a smile on his face. that smile that i love the most. the smile that brights up even my worst days.

i walked over to where he was stood and placed my hand on his shoulder.

‘your still young. you have time.’

he looked down at me and smiled, ruffling the back of my hair.

‘but id rather be here.’

‘here?’

‘yup. i used to hate the place. it reminded me of my mom. but now-‘

he stopped and turned to face me.

‘it reminds me of us.’

‘u-us?’

i internally cursed at myself for being so awkward. i was never good with things like this, especially not from my best friend.

thankfully, he laughed as he held my hands .

‘yes us.’

he gently swayed them from side to side, in time with the piano softly playing in the background.

‘if your about to dance with me-‘

‘i know i know ‘you cant dance’ but-‘

he placed an arm around my waist and held the other one behind my head.

it was a warmth i had never experienced before. the feeling of a touch that i could never describe.

i placed my head on his chest. and suddenly, everything felt like it was supposed to feel. maybe he was right. maybe i did want to be here. with just the two of us.

we swayed to the slow rhythm of the jazz band, his feet and body guiding mine as he cradled me in his arms.

and as the streetlight bathed our intertwined bodies in a hazy glow, and the rain fell at the beats of our matching hearts, it felt right.

like our fate was

at our lil magic music shop.

#hoshi #hoshi fluff #hoshi imagines #hoshi seventeen #hoshi svt #seventeen soonyoung #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung imagines #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt imagines

[artemissaggezza]

To my Darling Tumblrinas. Friends, foes, and frenemies alike,

I reach out to you now to do one of the hardest and most terrifying things I have ever done: ask for help. Doing so has never been easy for me (if I explained all the reasons why I could literally write you a TLDR dissertation 😂).

Right now, my wife (@starlghtstarbrite) and I need it more than we ever have. Life is hard for everyone. It has been hard for us too. But she and I have always found a way through. We have survived so much together.

We managed to leave an abusive situation (albeit with a stab wound, nerve damage, concussions and horrible cases of PTSD). The physical trauma from this has left permanent scars for both me and my wife. Every day since then I have lived in severe, sometimes incapacitating pain. Being 12 years sober (😁) this is really hard to manage. My wife has nerve damage she will never recover from and phantom pain on a daily basis. I don't even know how much debt we're in because of this. Honestly, we are both terrified to check.

Beyond the physical shit, the emotional trauma from this has led to at least $10,000 in mental health treatment. Sometimes it was just therapy. But most of the time it was specialized treatment for Bipolar disorder, PTSD, and atypical anorexia leading me to be away from home and out of work for months at a time.

I started treatment for my eating disorder (for the 5th time) a year ago at this time. While I was in treatment my wife lost her job after the company realized they didn't need to pay someone to do her job when AI could do it for free. Bullshit, right?

If you can believe it, I lost my job in the beginning of December for even shittier reasons. Background: I used to work for the largest academic/licensure examination company in the world. I will probably get in trouble if I say their actual name, so I'll give you a hint. If you have ever needed to get licensed for your job, you'll know them as the intimidating people who watch you while you take exams and do "security checks" that make you feel like you're being arrested. For any students out there, they're probably the publisher of some of your most expensive text books and study guides. It rhymes with "ShmEARSON" 😂.

I literally got fired for accidentally LETTING A TOOTHPICK into the testing room. I was accused of "intentionally defying" my boss's "orders" by not following protocol exactly (this was after my male coworker had been accused of sexual harassment four times and still had a job).

Because of this, my wife and I are facing eviction in three days. And have nowhere to go. My parents are emotionally abusive and my wife's mother still introduces me as her "roommate". We've been living off of black beans and rice for a month because we don't have money for food. Nevermind our meds, that even with insurance (which I no longer have) cost hundreds of dollars a month.

Over the years we have struggled and been dealt a lot of bad hands of poker. But we've always managed to bluff our way out of it. We put our faith in each other and pretend there is a light at the end of the endless tunnel, at the top of the bottomless pit. Every now and then we've even been able to run two damp sticks together and make our own light.

But this time our bluff has been called. We've run out of sticks to rub together. Without help and support we won't be able to light the torch that leads us through the abyss and into hope.

So, here I am. Embracing vulnerability and asking for help. I know times are tough all around. So even knowing that my story has been read and validated is a great comfort to me.

If you're moved by our story, relate to it, or see yourself in it and would like to help out my CashApp is below.

I would also like to offer you the chance to get something in return, if you want. I have a lot of random skills I'm more than willing to offer.

I'm an artist (think Jackson Pollock style), an academic writer (specialization: psychology, criminal justice, sociology, statistical analysis and all the associated citation styles), an editor/proofreader, and a poet. Among a host of other bizarre things lol.

I know this was long AF and I do apologize. Mostly though, if you had the drive, compassion and attention span to get all the way down here I AM DAMN IMPRESSED. And more grateful than you could ever imagine.

Thank you, each and every one of you. For hearing my words and seeing me.

CashApp: $ArtemisSaggezza

#art for sale #my truth #being vulnerable #need hope #need help #light at the end of the tunnel

[a-crash-in-time-collection]

Chapter 48: Gaming Break

It seemed whenever they tried to take a break anymore, something happened. It was almost driving the group of toppats insane. From the discovery of what happened to the first Moonjumper, to Macbeth's potential future with the second coming, to Platinum getting close to getting fried, it just was building up in the background. They just needed a break. Get away from the station properly, away from Subcon. It wasn't exactly the forest's fault, but it just felt convenient with how everything happened there.

That was the main reason they were at Dead Bird Studios that day. The Conductor wanted Hat Girl to come out and play a secondary role alongside Mu for one of his future movies. She took the opportunity, and some of the others managed to sneak their way to getting invited to tag along. Offering to be extras in the background so it wasn't as strange, and so it wasn’t just these two characters that were human while the vast majority of the others were birds. It was easy to do once they got there, just pretend to do things once the camera rolled.

That was what Mu got from them anyway. She just agreed to show up because she was offered money, an opportunity she didn't get too often. The only member who had seemingly shown up just for the heck of it was some Blake person. She didn't speak to them, didn't have time. She just focused on getting her scenes done. It did feel nice to talk with Hat Girl again. It felt like forever since they saw each other. If she didn't know about what happened to her, she never would have known anything was wrong.

Eventually, it was the end of the day. The toppats were getting ready to leave and Mu wanted to get out of there as quickly as well. She didn't know exactly why, she did like being around the group. For a bunch of criminals, they treated her well. But she didn't want them noticing that. Maybe that was why she found herself in such a hurry. Maybe. She just headed to the door while everyone was talking, reaching for the handle, before pausing. Was that... rain she could hear outside? That didn't seem right.

She opened the door a little bit, and it sounded like hell. There was roaring winds and clashes of thunder, rain pouring onto the sand. She quickly closed the door. "You gotta be kidding me." She mumbled aloud, drawing the attention of the others. "Eye of Shinoloko." She explained, and immediately the Conductor facepalmed with a mumble. She didn't blame the guy for being frustrated, even if he could camp here all night, two of his grandkids were with him today. Who knows how their mother might feel.

"Eye of w'ot?" Right asked, going over and opening the door to get a look himself. He quickly closed the door after he got a look of the chaos that was happening outside. He seemed genuinely surprised for a second, before looking over at the natives of this planet. "Suppose t'is is somet'in' t'at just, 'appens now and again?" He asked, getting a nod from Mu. "Ya could 'ave at least warned us before we came out."

"Ye think if I knew it was happenin' again I would have Crow and Rosetta here? Or invited anyone?" Conductor snapped a bit, before shaking his head and mumbling. "The one day Grooves doesn't show up so he can deal with this too... This is some pecking natural event that happens once a year, normally. It happened a good month before yer ship crashed onto the planet, so we shouldn't have to worry about this until Spring." He glanced to the side. "Weather Penguins can't do their jobs.."

"Look, I don't understand half of what yo' saying right now." Macbeth sighed as he sat against the wall, taking off his hat and letting Alexsandera rest along his shoulder. "But it looks like we're going to be stuck here while, so let's just deal with it." He said, before shaking his head at his tone. "Sorry, I haven't been sleepin' well lately." He apologized before he started another quick fight.

Hat Girl was quiet for a moment. She allowed Rosetta to hold her hand, it was clear she got scared from the momment Mu first opened the door and they heard those winds. "Why don't we play a game or something. Just to past the time?" She asked, glancing at the others. Platinum gave a clear nod and the rest either didn't respond or just sorta shrugged. She then got an idea and turned to Blake. "Do you have extra phones with your mod on them?" She asked, Blake lighting up at the mention.

"Is now really the time for Among Us?" Van asked, jestering back at the door. Platinum gave a shrug and went to the edge of the hall, already pulling out his own phone. "...Wait, Blake, why do you carry multiple phones on you? I know you're a tech person but is that really necessary?" Blake began to sign with one hand while they got their backpack off with the other. "Y-You know I can't understand signs that quick..."

"Wait, is that the game Snatcher told me about the last time we were in the woods together?" Mu asked Hat Girl, who gave a nod. She paused when Blake tossed one of the spare phones over to her. She eventually sigh and booted up the app. She thought the game sounded dumb when she heard about it, but it wasn't like there was much else to do... She paused when she clicked through the inventory screen out of curiosity, seeing an outfit that looked like hers. "What in the-" She glanced at the others, confused.

"Oh, Blake’s been wanting to draw some outfits based on the people they've seen on this planet and add them into the game. Your one of the frist they finished." Hat Girl turned to Blake who signed to her, before turning back to Mu. "They hope you're not too weirded out by it." She added. Mu just looked at the screen. She was..a little. But, there was some weird, nice feeling about being considered for something like this. "Pops, Conductor, Macbeth. You guys going to play?"

Right let out a small sigh. He Agreed with Van that this didn't feel like the time for games. At the same time, he already had his phone out to text Reginald to let him know they'd be back late. And as much as he wanted to brute force his way through the storm, he had to remember he had limits. "Fine. But just for a bit. If this goes on all night I want to keep Reg updated..." He paused as the lights flicked for a moment, some going out while a few managed to stay on. "I guess that's normal too."

"Normally." Conductor said. "Although I could've sworn there was some blots of lightin' dancing around one of the bulbs, but even I know that's ridiculous. Either way, toss me that metal box." Blake tilted their head. "Yes, I am aware what a phone is, but I can make up slang." Blake rolled their eyes and toss one over... and for a second it looked like something zap from the light above into the phone before it fell on the floor. "...Ye think I would catch it after that?"

"Ok, so funny story-" A voice came from the phone, some of the group shouting from the surprised. Hat Girl and Platinum both looked at each other to see if they were thinking the same thing, before Hat Girl grabbed the phone. Hydratic adjusted his mask slightly before he glanced at her. "I left the ship just to get some fresh air, the storm cloud moved to far from the ship and the sea.." He shook his head. "Point is uh, do you mind me chilling here with you guys. The eye is too much for even me, believe it or not."

Platinum took the phone from his sister and showed it to Right and Macbeth. "This is the Hydratic guy we told you about from the cruise." Platinum said. A cheerful voice but a wink when he had said that. Macbeth slowly reached for his sleeve, he had that feeling again. The same one he got near Autiomaa and Legends. Right gave Platinum a knowing nod before Platinum placed the phone down. "I think it'll be fine. We were going to play a game... just don't cheat. I don't know how well your powers would allow you to do so, but trust me. No one likes cheating."

"Kid, do I seem like a cheater?" Hydratic asked, gesturing to himself.

"...I want you all to know all this has just sounded like gibberish." Crow said, earning a few chuckles from those in the room. "What, I'm serious! ...And also, what are we even playing?"

Mu shook her head slightly before she glanced back at the screen. She didn't remember the last time she got to play any sort of game... Maybe this will be fun.

-------

Once the rules were explained, they started the game. Mu sighed a bit in relief when she saw 'Crewmate' on her screen, being the impostor sounded exhausting. She picked her location on the map and took a look at her task. She saw she was right next to the vault and headed in to do the dress mannequin task. She was curious as she looked around the map. Sure, it wasn't the exact same, but she did hear that this was based heavily on where they lived before the station. Made her pictured how Hattie's early years with the toppats were..

She left records to go look around for her next task. She hadn't seen anyone around yet, and was a little confused about that. Sure this was a big map but it didn't seem too big. Surely she would have bumped into someone by now? She wasn't sure what to think about that... She let out a shout as the Body Report screen came up suddenly. "His body was in electrical." Macbeth said as he glanced around. Mu opened up the chat to see Blake asking if anyone was nearby.

"Electrical? I saw Van in there a minute ago." Right said, eyeing suspension at Van. The teenager paused and looked at him, as if surprised. "Didn't even look like they were near a task. Just was standing there." Van glanced at Platinum, who was looking down at the ground, tapping his hands against the floor. Van finally open their mouth to speak, but got cut off by the voting sound effect. "If ya had a case, ya would've made it by now." Mu gave a nod to that, Van did seem suspicious. 

"I-I haven't played in awhile, I-I'm not used to getting accused! I just left before Platinum even came in!" Van got out their words at last. But it seemed too late. Mu had already cast her vote in, and seemingly everyone alive was in a silent agreement. Van finally clicked to vote, one person voting to skip while everyone else voted the white crewmate out. "I didn't even do anything." They said as the screen confirmed they were not an imposter. "Just, be careful guys. Ok?"

Mu let out an annoyed sigh. Maybe she should have waited for a proper response. Sure they were still good on numbers for now, but who knows what would happen as the game went on... The conductor got killed not long later, Macbeth once again finding and reporting the body. Blake put in chat that they had last seen Crow with him, and Rosetta agreed. However, no one was as willing to jump into a mass vote over that after what happened to Van. The majority voted to skip, but there was a silent agreement to keep an eye out for that Cyan crewmate.

Mu let out a sigh as she finished putting the guns away, heading up and passing Hat Girl as she went into the engine room while the Rose crewmate went into cockpit. She walked through the main hall and began to pick up the towels on the floor. Mu really hope this was just for mechanics, and the toppats didn't actually just leave towels on the floor like this. She went into the proper shower section to grab the last one... and just barely caught the shape of the pod, before Hat Girl seemed to come from it. But she had just seen Hat Girl walk into cockpit.

"Shoot." She whispered before she quickly raced her character away before the impostor could react. She passed Hydartic's blue crewmate (himself??) and got onto the flying pad, panicking inside her mind until she could get up to the meeting room and press the emergency meeting. "Shapeshifter was on!" She blurted out, letting out a small sigh that no one had died that turn. "I saw Hattie in cockpit and then walked in on someone shapeshift into her. Didn't catch the color of the pod."

"Shapeshifter makes this a lot more risky. Thanks for the clear Mu." Hat Girl said, turning to her and smiling a bit. Mu smiled back, before looking eyes with Crow. She couldn't see his eyes, but she could feel him looking around the room nervously. She didn't know the Conductor's grandkids well, but she knew that wasn't like Crow in most situations. She cleared her throat. "We're already suspicious of Crow, I say let's get him out of here. Unless anyone was with him this past round."

"No one was.." Crow admitted, and the votes came in quickly. He threw his hand in the air when he was voted out. "I wasn't even in showers!" He said as the screen confirm his role. "...And Sorry about the kill, Grandpa.."

Mu had thought now that they had gotten one imposter out of the game, getting the other was only a matter of time... Yet the game kept going for a while. Lights got turned off for a good chunk of time, since it could be a hassle if more than one person tried to fix it. That allowed the living impostor to get multiple kills in each round, slowly lowering the comfortable distance between them and victory. And everytime Mu thought she had an idea who it was, they would be dead by the next meeting...

She was thinking about her latest suspicions when a new alarm sound started playing. She quickly checked the map and saw two points on it. She went to the closest point, but found Macbeth was already there. She cursed herself since the pad was on the left side of the screen, meaning she'd have to go the long way. Or have someone beat her there. She began to hurry as quickly as possible, and did make it to the end in time to input the code. Allowing a breath.. before Hat Girl's body was reported.

"Engine room." Right said, letting out a sigh. "Would 'ave been at t'e sabotage but I was lock be'ind so many doors."

"Wait, you were the one who got Van voted out in the beginning." Mu spoke as the thought came to her. "How do we know you weren't lying back then?" She asked, crossing her arms. Right just seemed to send her a glare while Macbeth glanced at them both. Everyone else in the room was either silently watching or, based on their typing, discussing what was happening in the ghost chat. "Macbeth, I saw you more than enough times. You would have killed me by now. I think Right self reported."

"'nd 'ow do we know ya didn't start the sabotage? Macbeth, it 'as to be 'er. Ya gotta vote 'er out." Right said  before casting his vote as soon as it started. Mu quickly cast her in relation, and waited. The votes came in, two votes for her. She held in a frustrated sigh as she watched herself get voted out... Only to have her eyes widen at the brown crewmate on the red screen. "Wait-" Right seemed just as surprised, before turning to Macbeth, who had a small smirk on

his face.

"Didn't expect me?" He asked. "I played it with the kids a hundred dozen times at least. I know the useful traps to avoid."

"Yea, as soon as I heard Pops and Mu access each other, I knew it was over." Platinum sighed as he led his head back against the wall. Hat Girl gave a small chuckle as he rolled his eyes. Mu shook her head, why did she fall into such a  trap? Now that she thought about it, she did catch a glimpse of the pod's color. It wasn't enough time for her brain to figure out what color it was, but it was far from purple. "Well, should we hop into the next round? I'd like to see if I can get payback on Crow."

"I was just playing my part of the game, if my teammate didn't report the bodies so often." Crow mumbled before glancing over at Macbeth, who gave a small shrug. Mu glanced at the ghost. She had this weird feeling about him. She didn't know exactly what, but there was just something that felt more.. divine about his presence. Not sure why it took him winning a game for her to notice. "But yea. Let's just get started, I don't think the storm is going away anytime soon. And not like we have someone who can control storms."

"Trust me, if I could call Anumand to clear this, I would." Hydartic's voice called from the phone. "They'd do a great job.."

After a few more minutes of talking just to settle down the nerves, the next round began. Mu thought she heard an annoyed sigh from somewhere in the room but didn't look up from her screen as she began to work on her next few tasks. She started to get the feeling of the layout in the back of her head, and that made it easier for her to relax. She only would tense up once she found herself in a room with some other players. Who knows when one of them could try to kill her after all. 

She got most of the task on the left side of the ship taken care of that she felt comfortable moving to the right side of the ship. It was a little longer than last time, no one must have died yet. Or if they had, no one had found their body. She learnt that the map had a few good spots for bodies to be hidden, even by accident. Blake must have designed it that way on purpose... She heard a sudden thud and while she had to remind herself not to look around, she figured she knew what that meant.

Sure enough, a small gasp came from Conductor and Blake's dead body appeared on screen. They were the only one who had died, and they looked annoyed about it. They crossed their arms and Mu shrugged when they made eye contact.

"I'm honestly surprised this is the first time any of us were murdered in the kitchen. Seems like the perfect killin' place if ye ask me." Conductor spoke as he leaned back. The rest of the group given him some glares and he seemed to pause a moment before he spoke again. "Oh, I didn't see anyone around. Believe me, I would have already accused someone if I did." The rest of the group sighed. "Let's just skip. It's just one death, we can take a few more before we need to vote."

"Why are you like this Grandpa?" Crow sighed as everyone skipped, not much more they could do. Mu picked records as her spawn location and went to take care of her task in the Lobby. Would have been nice to gotten more info but it didn't seem like anyone was going to trust any information the old bird gave anyway. She just needed some time to breathe... and she wanted to drop the phone when Platinum's dead body appeared on screen. It only been like, a minute or two? How was he already dead?

"I-I thought I saw someone but I didn't get a good look at them." Rosetta spoke as she placed her phone to the ground. "I haven't memorized everyone's color either.."

"Unless anyone's got any suspicions,  think it's best to save our voices and agree to skip." Mu sighed, and no one spoke up with anything. The only ones who were speaking were Blake and Platinum in the ghost chat. As the next round started, Mu would occasionally glance over at them. Wondering what was going through their minds as this all played out. She hadn't become a ghost yet... "Ok, this is getting ridiculous." Mu announced a minute later, once Crow had been found dead. "Let me guess, no one?"

"Actually, I think there's a chance the lass might be the impostor." The Conductor said as he pointed over at her, and she looked surprised. "I remembered seeing Crow with her last, and it wasn't that long ago." Hat Girl had typed out a message while he spoke, explaining she was with him but left a bit before the kill. "I thought we agreed Blake was going to be the only one using the text chat?" Hat Girl gave a shrug, Mu couldn't blame her. They took so long to talk sometimes. "We don't have to vote her now, I'm just pointing it out."

"I mean, you're just gonna make it harder for our team if you do." Hat Girl said. Only three people voted for her, so the game continued. Mu wasn't one of the people who voted her, but she had a small bit of suspicions. There was just something about the way Hattie said that final comment. It sounded like her normal tone on the surface but... There was a facepalm from across the room before the Conductor's body appeared on the screen. "Oh peck me." She said, Platinum breaking his silence to laugh.

"I-I saw her this time." Rosetta said, and Hat Girl just nodded. Mu couldn't help but hold in a small snort. Even Crow didn't make a mistake like that when they were playing. "Sorry.." Rosetta said to Hat Girl after a moment, but Blake shook their head from across the room. Platinum, the closest to the kid, quickly showed his screen that showed Blake saying it was just part of the game. "Still, she's so nice normally. I feel bad.." She said as the alien got voted out of the group.

"None of that matters in this game." Hydratic spoke. "It's all or nothing... But hopefully the game will be easier."

The game didn't get too much easier. It wasn't as bad as the massacre that was the last round, but there was still the occasional kill here and there from the Imposter. Mu had her suspicions for a while. She tried to be smarter about her guesses. She thought it could have been Macbeth, they seemed to have been bumping into each other a lot. But he was one of the impostor's last round, what were the odds the game would pick him again? He seemed to be in the right places for tasks as well.

She was suspicious of Hydratic for a while as well. He would run all over the map, and Mu was sure it was before he was trying to get a quick kill. During one of the past meetings, he said that he already got all his tasks done and was just running around to see if he could catch the impostor or find a body. Mu found it a bit strange that if he was doing that, why no bodies had shown up yet. But that wasn't enough evidence to make a proper accusation. And she didn't want the game to end with her making a mistake like that again.

The game started to feel like it was taking forever. The only reason she hadn't gotten her task done was the impostor kept setting up the crash sabotage what felt like every five seconds. She could swear Hattie giggled each and every time.

She let out an annoyed sigh as she finished the sabotage and then climbed up the ladder to dump out the trash. And she was done. She took a glance up at the progress bar, seeing it was close to completion. She tapped her hand on the screen as she waited for the inevitable next body to be reported... She thought she could hear a bit of muttering from nearby, but didn't look up... until a beep filled the room. "Alex!" Macbeth called, before the Crewmate victory screen played on everyone else's.

The room burst into a bit of laughter as the Dweller gently knocked the phone out of Macbeth's hands before resting in them. "Did they really just left the game for ye?" Conductor asked, Macbeth rolling his eyes but nodding as he patted the dweller on their head. Mu couldn't get the smile off her face. She felt robbed of a fairly earned victory, but there was just something about winning this way that felt a lot more funny. "Wait, I think the eye is claiming outside... at least a bit."

"T'ink yer right." Right spoke as he went up to the door and listened. "Still doesn’t seem safe to leave though."

"Could just be in the eye of the storm." Hattie said as Blake signed. Mu just sighed, she started to feel a bit tired. She should have been back in mafia town by now, or at least a decent bit away there. Hopefully she could get going again soon. But she was having a bit of fun here... why did her having fun have to feel so right? She should be focused on her sole duty. Yet... "Mu?" Hat Girl gently shook her shoulder, causing Mu to come back from the pit of her mind. "Are you alright?"

"Yea, just got a little worried for some people, that's all." It wasn't a very good excuse, she would have had names if it was a convincing sounding one. It was clear some people knew the truth about her statement, but didn't speak up about it. No point in risking starting a genuine fight after a bunch of light-hearted and playful ones. She glanced back at the screen of the phone she had. "Do you guys want to do something else... Or do more of this. I kinda wanna see if I can get lucky with the role I'm given." She gave a small smirk.

-------

They all slowly lost track of time as they played. Mu knew for sure she did. The longer she played, the more she enjoyed the game. Sure, she still thought it was a bit dumb, but dumb things can be fun sometimes. She did eventually get to be impostor, although she didn't get too many kills in before she was figured out. The role seemed a lot more stressful than she originally thought. Still, she enjoyed her time. It almost made her feel sad it would be over once the storm had cleared.

They started another round, finding herself as a crewmate once again. She spawned in the main hall, since that gave her the most access to the possible task she could do. She saw she had a few and started working on them. The game went on and Mu was expecting a body found screen at any moment. It almost made her feel uneasy that there wasn't one yet. Like she'd be the body that would end up being found. She wasn't the best at being patients during meetings, only able to keep her mouth shut by ranting her feelings in ghost chat. A lot of the others were similar.

The screen began to flash red and she sighed as she went to fix the sabotage. She didn't understand why everyone liked using this one so much, the lights seemed so much more effective... She got to the left first and quickly placed in the code and waited for the sight side to do the same... She heard a facepalm from somewhere in the room and by now that usually only meant one thing. Right Hand Man's dead body appeared on the screen. She looked up to see the man shaking his head.

"It's Crow!" Hydratic's voice came from the single phone laying on the floor. "He killed Right... hang on" there was a chuckle from the phone before he could finish, a bit of laughter in his voice. "He killed Right right in front of me." Crow just held up his hands in defeat. Mu shook her head a bit, holding in a chuckle as she sent in her vote. He could have at least tried pleading shapeshifter. "You think he would've picked up that being a bad idea." Hydartic said, before the votes came in.

"You know what, I think I prefer watching all this to playing it anyway." Crow said, leaning back as he adjusted his phone. Mu knew better than to expect good things from getting one impostor out by now. She glanced at her list of tasks and saw she only had the meeting room task to finish, and she was done. So she raced over to the room from her spawn location as fast as she could, and pulled down the lever. She let out a small sigh of relief as she knew she did her part.

She then shook her head and decided to focus. She might be able to figure out who the impostor was if she was careful. She began to slowly head around the map, watching everyone. If a room had two people in it, she would leave and wait, coming in to check if one of them had been killed. She was making a big loop around the orbital station, until she got to the security room. Right next to the cameras was Platinum's body. She couldn't help but feel bad, he had been through it a lot these games.

"Why did you do that?!" Hydearic called suddenly as she reported the body. "The impostor was shapeshifted as me and I was chasing them trying to make their timer run out!"

"Well I'm sorry, I wasn't aware." Mu said, rolling her eyes a bit. "Besides, I think I got an idea about who it is. Was anyone with Van at the last minute? Because I saw them with Platinum a lot this past round." Van seemed to freeze up as they tried to think of what to say. Mu chuckled a bit as she opened the in-game chat and saw Blake had put on a smirk. Soon the voting began. "You could’ve at least tried to defend yourself" Mu said once they were all casted.. only to sigh. "Are you kidding me?"

"I-I'm not good with these kinds of things, what did you expect?" Van asked, before sighing as they placed their phone down, likely done with their task as well. She rolled her eyes as she focused back on the game. Maybe it was the group's fault for being so quick to vote at first mention of who might be suspicious. But if half the people didn't freeze up or thought quicker they wouldn't be in those situations. "I'm stretching my legs. They've been on the urge of falling asleep, and I don't wanna deal with that when we leave." They said as they stood up, careful walking past Platinum.

Mu let out a sigh as she went back to her new routine of checking all the rooms, and seeing if she could catch any murders that took place. She was feeling tired, and not just because of her current gameplay cycle. It had been at least an hour, likely more, since they started playing. She wasn't keeping track of the time for once. She just wanted to go and lay her head down. She was thinking of after this round ends suggesting they just turn in for the night if the storm was still blowing outside.

She woke up a bit when Hat Girl's body appeared on screen. "I swear some people are faster than others, might have to look into that." Blake sent in the chat as Mu opened it. "Weapons. The upperpart near Burt's room. Just saw their Shadow." They typed out and Mu glanced over at them. She then glanced around, no one seemed to be acting guilty. "Mu, why have you been going in and out of rooms? You called Hydartic out on similar behavior earlier?"

"I'm a hypocrite and bored, what else do you expect from me?" She asked as she sighed. She knew Blake didn't have any useful info based on how they commented, so it was likely going to be a skip round, so why bother trying. They still had eight players left, so they were almost better off letting the impostor do the kills and try and catch them in the act. "Voting someone off will make it easier for whoever is impostor... we're at least able to travel in pairs now, that might help."

"Sure it would, lassie." The Conductor mumbled, sounding a bit annoyed as he skipped. Mu raised a brow at that, but didn't question it much. She saw Right nearby when she loaded in and started to follow him. For the next three or so minutes, everything was calm. Then suddenly, the Conductor mumbled "Oh peck this." Before the disconnect sound was played... and the crewmates won. There was a bit of quiet laughter from the teens as the bird crossed his arms. "It was impossible for me to get a kill!"

"You could have tried a little harder, Grandpa." Crow said, crossing his arms before pausing. "Hey, do you hear anything?I think the Storm's over."

"Wait, what- Hattie, take me to the door." Hydartic called out, a hint of what seemed to be panic in his voice. She nodded and picked up the phone, walking over and opening the door. It was still raining, and there were still winds with sand dancing about, but it was much calmer than before. Suddenly, a spark came from the phone, Hydratic appearing in the rain. A bit faded, but it was still him. "I'm sorry, but I need to go now. As much as I loved hanging with you, I rather get home myself and not make you do the work for me."

"Oh, it's no issue! Just be safe!" Hat Girl waved, before the strange figured disappeared, what seemed to be electricity bouncing between drops of rain into the sky. She let out a sigh as she turned off the phone he was in, her eyes widened slightly when she saw the time. Mu looked at the phone she used, and let out a small grone. Almost midnight?

Mu sighed as she got up. "I need to go." She said before she headed out.

Just like that. No dramatic leave. Just covering her eyes to shield them from the faint winds of sand and dust.

Life was like that sometimes.

#a hat in time #the henry stickmin collection #hat girl #hat kid #henry stickmin oc #a hat in time fanfic #henry stickmin fanfic #right hand man #topbot #ahit conductor grandchildren #ahit the conductor #henry stickmin mr. macbeth #mr. macbeth #ahit mustache girl #among us

[nityarawal]

10/5/2023

Morning Songs

Dia's Song

Sitting In The Woods

Once Again

Wondering Where To Turn

Thinkin' Of Our Moms

And Foul Play Done

Billionaire Heiress

Lydia Abrams

Disappeared

Now A Probate

Money Tied Up

By Court Fraud

Her Son Just Wants

Closure

Confirm

X- Sheriff Keith 

Harper Murdered 

His Mom

Dia And Her

Caretaker Jodi

I Called On Ad

To The Caretaking Ranch

Job

I Called On An Ad

And Spoke To Keith

Harper

For Bautista Ranch

Up Apple Canyon 

Hurkey Creek

Didn't Take The Job

Won't Go Out

And Investigate

A Already Solved

Case

He Already Murdered

My Bunky Jodi

And Dia Abrams

Why Does Becky Clark

Advertise A Murderer

Confirmed Sex Offender

She Offered Me $15

Dollars An Article

Before Idyology

Caged Me

And Pushes Academy

Moms On Pleas

Was The Advertising

Money

Worth It

For A Registered

Sex Offender

$15 Like An Article

To Buy Another

Murdered Caretaker

Why Would You

Do A Story

On Man

Who Murdered Two Moms

Not Get To The Bottom

Of It

Or Tie Up Loose

Ends

For Academy Graduates

Journalists

We Alerted The

Help Center

About Keith Harper's

Ad in Idyllwild Town Crier

For Another Caretaker

Sounds Like 

Another Journalist

Grad

From Idyllwild Arts

In Latest Video

From Jodi

Touring Bautista

Wedding

Airbnb Site

Garner Valley

Was Almost Sold

Out

Again

Take Down Your Ad

For Sex Offenders

Victims

Witch Hunting Mommies

For Proud Boys

Take Down Your Ad

We Work For Dia

Restraining Orders

For Sex Offenders

From Her Ranches

Not The X Sheriff

Or Officers That Need

To Be Fired

Raiding For Billions

We Work With

Dia

San Diego Probates

PNC Bank

BBVA Before Them

Wells Fargo

San Diego Credit

Unions

Fidelity

Refund Billions

Times To Thee

Mary Schmitz

Admitted Airbnb

Fraud

Murder

Management

400 Victims

In Idyllwild

Mountain Center

Pine Cove

Wrongfully Evicted

Idyllwild Realty

Wrongful Deaths

Sergeant Protero 

Pretends To Investigate

Lipstick On

With A Harem

Of Hitmen

Fraudulent Officers

Ignorant Of Laws

Raping Mommies

Away

Not One Good Probate

Judge

Not One Officer

Knows The Law

Diplomacy

5 W's

Citizen Journalists

So Charge

Harper And His

Accomplices

Sheriff Bianco

Enoch

With Fraud

DA

You Can't "OJ Murder"

Another Mom

On Cons

My Sisters

2nd Bunky

Witnessed Foul Play

Paris Hilton Whistle 

Blew

#FreeBritney And I

Don't Take Another

Heiress

For A Job

Our Taxes Won't

Cover

In-House

Murders

Domestic Terrorism 

Don't Take Another 

Heiress

Give 300k  Finders

Fee To #Nitya4Eternity

To Me

Starving Journalist

In Need

Needy

Who Tweeted

Until Elon

Joined Me 

On "X"

Just A Humble

Journalist

Nobody

Jealous

Of Merlin

Mommy

Nobody Jealous

Of Merlin Mommy

Give Us Back Our

Kids

Give Us Back X

You Can't Give Us

Back

6 Years

With King Kyan

Or Princess Anjali

Nor All The Oil

Stolen

For Iranian Women

Lives Matter

Now

And Always

All The Oil Stolen

In WW3 Bribes

Give It Back

To The Prople

But The Power

Is Now

And You Can't

Do That

Give It Back

Give It Back

Rewind Pendant

YouTube And

Watch That

Stole Our Time

On Apple Cons

Techy Bribes

Selling Starter Wives

Give It Back

Give Back My Beach

Home

Your Black Mary

With Her Pierced

Nose

Conned To Work For

CPS

Senator

Probate Judge Jackson

Candace Owen's Pod

Bribed My Mothers

Heads

On The Black Market

For Politicians

Send Back Your

Dancing Gigolos

To London

Jodi Was Flustered

As Keith

Tried To Burn

Through 

The Hoes

Enough

Peace

Peace,

Nitya Nella Davigo Azam Moezzi Huntley Rawal 

[theladyofbloodshed]

This might political or entirely wrong. This is simply what I feel and have experience in this cycle. When it come to the relationship of IC and its head, Rhys. I would say it is complex and I have seen this type of friendship before.

If we look to the OG IC member: Az,Cas,Mos,Amren, Rhys. They all same one thing similar : They are all in debt sort to Rhys.

1. Az and Cas are taken in by Rhys mother. If it is not for Rhys mother, they remained as bastard or maybe dead. Of course, they are friend but as someone who have been showed kindness too, sure Az and Cas would not take this issue lightly. Even better, their friendship resulted them in their later job. Oh, dont go to me and say, they are friends, of course nice to be good to each other. No, if this is brought real life, Rhys is this old money rich and have his friends got a job because he can, because his father have title and money. This two whole life rn is better because of Rhys, they re where they are because of Rhys. Of course, they remained loyal to Rhys. You dont bite the hands that feed you. Lets not pretend otherwise because in the book itself we can see how Cas looks up very highly to Rhys. Loyal? Yes, Patriot? Yes but also because of Rhys he gained all this life. And cas? He is a general despite his lowborn and 0 influence. The illyira hate and despise him but rhys still make him a general despite of the fact. Arent you touched? Having a friend to back you up even if everyone hate you?

2. Mor escaped the Hewn City and got access to Velaris and away from her father, from Eris. Need I to say more? If Mor dont keep her mouth shut, she could risk herself being kick out of Velaris. Who will support her if she if kick? Az? Cas? Who is also depended on Rhys? They can complaint but cant say much i guess. And what can Mor offer Rhys in return? She cant even face her own father after 500 years and manage her stress well. She depended on Rhys and Az to shield her.

3. Amren. Idk this woman. Protection from the prison? She escaped the prison right? This must have something to do with Rhys. Another reason why I think se is eager for Rhys to be High King. It secure her place and freedom and her cave of jewlerry

4. Rhys. He gave this people from no 1 -3 something they need and want. Yes, i know you are friends, you be good to friends. But rhys isnt nobody, he is a HL. He rule 3/3 of the NC. What he get in return? Loyalty and secure the IC mouth shut. Why havent any of IC reported to Feyre about her pregnancy risk? Because it is Rhys hands that feed them, take them in and care for them. Yes you are friends but do know they are grown adult with need and perhaps desperation.(maybe to avoid taxes too, lmfao)

Which is to Feyre. What feyre bring for IC (exclude Rhys)? What feyre have to get the IC member out of their desperation? Her power, her alliances? Her rich and coin? Now, we see why IC keep their mouth shut. This is an unhealthy dynamic because it will just made the people listed in number 1-3 nearly impossible to break out of this relationship. If you are aware, you will learn this people life are depended on rhys mostly. If rhys die, they all lose their position and comfort and title. And if feyre die? They grieve and mourn but their position and comfort remained (lets excluded the death pact).

This happen in our own world most of the time. We stuck in this cycle. One provided, one receivng. If handle well, it can be healthy and a help us to grow with a good support system. If the hands giving to us is abusive, well. Ready to cut or be cut.

Anon you are absolutely right. It's not what you know, but who you know! I think Rhys even says when he became high lord lots of his father's council opposed the appointments of the group but Rhys goes full Ron Swanson not to worry I have a permit. They are all in Rhys' debt in some shape or form!

#anon asks

[bridgertonbabe]

Here are a couple of honourary mentions which didn't fit into my three TED Talks haha

First, these two photos of Jacques & Gabriella of Monaco. Not sure what's going on, I just know that it's very on-brand for the Monaco royals

Second, I was gonna say that this could serve as inspo for Newton. But that felt like a bit of an insult towards the main character of season 2. Anywho, the Thai royals have way too much money but at least Siri offers entertainment in how much she spoils her dog

Third, we have my favourite royal, His Royal Cuteness Prince Charles of Luxembourg. The hardest-working baby in the world who's about to become a big brother next year! No real reason, I just want everyone to see how adorable he is

For those wondering, His Royal Cuteness together with Prince Alexander have been cast by me as Charlie (yes I know they look very different, never said my casting was gonna be logical), Prince Gabriel as Alex (let's pretend Alex was blonde the first couple of years) & now when we have better photos of Prince Julian, I have an excuse to picture him as Will. Haven't decided on anyone for Eddie, Miles, Mary & Vivi yet, suggestions are welcome! But, I nominate Princess Adrienne as Lottie.

Jacques and Gabriella of Monaco are definitely giving cheeky Prince Gregory and Princess Hyacinth vibes, though I could also imagine Princess Charlotte and Prince William having the sassy little troublemakers look about them. In the Royals AU they were born hours apart in the same hospital with their fathers running out into the corridor of opposite rooms to high-five each other when they were welcomed into the world. It would have been the only time Sophie had presented one of her newborns to the world, knowing there would be no chance of sneaking out of the hospital with the media camped outside waiting to be introduced to the new Princess Royal. She had found the prospect of the media interest invasive and had opted not to parade Charlie and Alex around hours after giving birth to them as a result, but seeing as William was her third baby and she didn't feel as overwhelmed as she had done as a brand new mother, she reckoned she could handle showing one of her babies to the world just this once. Then when Kate hopped into the hospital bed with her as they snuggled their newborns, she asked if Sophie would like to appear on the steps of the hospital with her and show their babies off together, and realising she wouldn't have to do it alone made Sophie agree to the offer instantly. She even had a bit of fun as Kate's glam squad dressed and made her up side by side with the queen while their royal husbands doted on their infants, before they treated the public to the four of them appearing on the steps of the hospital to introduce the newest little prince and princess of the family.

I could definitely see Newton ending up as the main star of the royal family's Instagram account. He's included in photos for Kate and Anthony's engagement, their wedding, pregnancy announcements, first baby pics, and of course their official Christmas cards. When they meet members of the public Kate and Anthony are always asked about Newton and the general demand of more Newton leads the royal family Insta stories to be filled with the corgi's day to day activities and general fluffy cuteness. (There's even a joke petition to make Newton the national animal of the country or for him to at least be knighted for his adorable services to the nation.)

Prince Charles of Luxembourg is the cutest!!! I can for sure see him as baby Charlie and while Benedict is thrilled that his hair initially appears blonde like his mother, Sophie is sure his locks will darken to the chestnut that the rest of the Bridgertons possess and much to Benedict's chagrin she's right. I can also totally see (your logic of) Prince Alexander as a bigger version of Charlie, with Charlie not wanting his hair cut so he can look just like his father (I'm envisioning Benedict growing his hair out for a time after Sophie one day mused that she fancied him when he was younger with his teenage floppy hair, and being the simp that he is he wanted to make his wife's teenage dreams come true).

#asks #royals au