#but some of the books are just outrageously expensive

[gatheryepens]

Books are really expensive here lmao...

[eats-the-stars]

being an adult who makes my own income is also realizing i can actually buy some of the pretty art i see online. some day i might even be bold enough to directly commission an artist.

[solradguy]

Learned about photogrammetry apps today. That means I could make 3D models of anything in my room which could then be 3D printed.

[webslingingslasher]

Care less

for the frat!peter girlies.

Peter blames his aunt. 

May went and raised him to look forward to the middle of february. She would make little boxes and handwritten notes tied up with a fun-sized candy bar. May told him it was a day to celebrate love in its entirety. For a friend, for a teacher, for just the sake of love existing everywhere you went. 

Except, not everyone likes valentine's day. Some even hate it. Some would loathe the day so much that Peter feels like an idiot for caring. Dinner reservations that were going to be ignored, flowers that would go wilted and chocolates that were never going to get eaten. 

Peter has a handful of nothing and the one time he really wanted to outperform himself, it was brushed off and it was his aunt’s fault for getting his hopes up about valentine’s day. He had been so thoughtful too, planning weeks ahead to book a dinner slot and a fun date. Not to mention the mini fortune he spent on roses, not that you were a giant fan of roses but every girl deserves a bouquet on valentine’s, even if they triple in price. Peter even bought a second bunch of your favorite kind, just to prove he cared. 

It meant nothing. His efforts meant nothing and maybe he shouldn’t have assumed, but he never thought that you’d hate the holiday. It was a day entirely built around feelings, around love- and you just rolled your eyes at him. 

“I fucking hate valentine’s day.” You said it like it was nothing, taking two bites of a banana and handing it over to Peter. He asked if you were excited, maybe even hinting at that you should be excited. Peter Parker was about to romance the hell out of you. But not anymore. 

“Explain that one for me?” A toss, the peel falls into the trash can. You shrug as if you’ve never thought about it before, but it’s something you’ve held in your chest for as long as you can remember. 

“It was a holiday created by girls who didn’t feel loved enough by their boyfriends, or something. I think the practice is stupid, you should treat me good and do nice things for me everyday, not just once a year. And everything is crowded! Everyone has the same lame idea about dinner and a movie and flowers and… it’s just not something I buy into.” 

Peter feels every bit of him curl up and die inside. Valentines is his third favorite holiday, he adores the pinks, reds, and purples. He loves seeing couples of every stage, the beginning stages or lifelong partners. They all love the same; with everything in them. 

“Well, actually, I do have a confession. Chocolate covered strawberries. They’re outrageously expensive, but I buy them every year. If you’re wondering, I was hoping we could boycott the baby holiday and eat some strawberries or something.” 

A small lift in his heart, it’s something. You’d be happy with one thing and he could deliver that, but first he has to try and sway you, right? Peter needs to preach what valentine’s is about, he needs you to understand how lovely it is. 

“I’m surprised you hate it so much. I figured you’d love it, since it’s pink and feelings, and stuff.” You wink at him, you think it’s a joke and Peter’s in the same boat as you. “I know, right? It always seemed so gimmicky to me, I think.” 

“That doesn’t mean it’s bad.” You pretend gag, Peter feels his heart sink into the hollow of his chest. “You’re right, it’s cringy and that makes it so much worse.” Peter doesn’t agree, not even in the slightest. Nothing about it is cringy, there’s nothing embarrassing about showing you love someone. 

“Right. It’s cringy and a gimmick and everyone who participates is stupid.” Maybe he’s a little cynical, it hits harder when you nod with exaggeration. “So glad you agree, petey!” He doesn’t. Peter couldn’t be further away from your opinion but he’s really not in the mood to be shut down or judged, so, he just changes the subject and tries to ignore everything crumbling apart in the back of his mind. 

“Isn’t this cute?” 

You squint your eyes when you read the card, a tiny smile shows. “It’s cute. Not worth…” You snatch the glorified cardstock and flip it, your eyes widen, you pretend to choke on the dollar amount. “Ten dollars, holy shit. For some glitter? Fuck that.” 

You want it out of your hold, scared that if even a speckle spread you’d be forced to buy it. “What happened to the good old days of making your own card? My mom used to eat that up.” 

Peter delicately sets the card down, he tries to see it how you do, but he can’t. Sure, it’s wildly marked up, but wouldn’t your partner be worth the price? Peter would buy the moon for you if he could, a ten dollar Hallmark card won’t be his holdup. 

But, maybe you’d like a handmade one more. He can do that. 

Peter’s trying to be mindful of your opinion while also planting the seed that valentine’s isn’t all that bad into your brain. It’s days away and all he can hear in the back of his mind is ‘I fucking hate valentine’s day.’ 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Peter- do you fucking see this?” 

A romantic gesture? A public display of love and admiration? Dozens of carefully inflated heart shaped balloons? A girl crying into the arms of her friend while her partner showers her with flowers. Is it the love? Is that what you’re pointing out? 

“Yeah, it’s-” 

“Disgusting.” 

“-cute.” Peter frowns, is that what you really thought of valentines? Nothing was swaying your mind, Peter thinks that you’re more solidified in your mindset than before. 

“I’m sorry, trouble, but I’m finding it hard believing you hate valentine’s day.” It’s like he just called you a slur, you pull your hand from his and stuff it into your jacket pocket. 

“I don’t hate it, I loathe it. What do you see watching that? Personally, I’m seeing gravel covered flowers and wasted space that turns into deflated balloons. Fuck that.” Peter shakes his head, you’re seeing it wrong. “It’s about the gesture.” 

“It’s about how you love someone so much, there aren't enough things in the world to buy to show it, and there are never the right set of words to say it quite right. I’ll buy all the flowers in the world for you, and I’ll use all the air in my lungs for these balloons but it’ll never match the love I have for you.” 

Peter clears his throat. “That's what I see, anyways. I think valentine’s day is an excuse to be a little cringy and basic because we all want that sometimes.” He might’ve finally broken through, but you crack a grin and bump your shoulder into his. 

“Ah, yes, because I’m so unfulfilled that a man has never gotten me a teddy bear for valentine’s day.” Would you want one? He could get you one. Or could that be a reason you might detest the holiday, not that he’d ever take your opinion for resentment or bitterness. 

“Have you ever had a valentine?” A small stumble, your hand is tied into his again. “Besides elementary, nah. And honestly, I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.” 

‘I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.’ But, now you do, don’t you? 

“Trouble, you do realize you’re my valentine this year, right? And I’m yours?” You feel your breath catch, no, you hadn’t realized. It’s always just been another day for you and you assume the same for Peter, it’s not like there was much to celebrate. 

“It’s also just a day that ends in Y.” Is that really the answer you have? It’s just another day to you, even if you finally have someone to claim? You might not care about the holiday, but Peter does and he’s going to get his valentine’s day, no matter what. 

And you’re going to enjoy a handmade card. 

And a teddy bear. 

Peter’s finger-combing his hair after a shower, he’s had the reservation for weeks, but he also wasn’t aware of your detestment towards red hearts and arrows. 

“Wanna grab some dinner wednesday?” If he didn’t say it by name he’s hoping you won’t scream bloody mary on him. “Sure.” A smile washes over Peter’s face, it drops in a second. “Wait, isn’t that valentine’s day? Ha, yeah, no thank you. You, me, and the entire city? Fuck that.” 

‘Fuck that, fuck that, fuck that.’ Weeks boiled into nothing. “But, if you wanna cuddle and watch a movie I’m down.” It’s something. He’d get to give you flowers and a card and a teddy bear and he can’t forget the strawberries. You told him you loved them. 

“Good with me, trouble.” 

Peter tried to sway your mind, he tried to make you enjoy the love and glitter and colors. But you hated it all. So all he has to do is ditch the flowers and the dinner and just… do nothing. 

Peter’s first real valentine and all he has to do is… nothing. 

Three rose bouquets tossed onto his closet floor, it was haphazardly done. Petals scattered around the cellophane, some even reached to his shoes. They were thrown in without care, they were hidden. 

But they were beautiful. A few front buds have taken a beating, but the others were fully blossomed and lively. You’ve never seen roses in such a vivid red, their petals almost like velvet under your fingertips, their smell unlike any other. 

The thorns have been expertly shredded, nothing but smooth, soft stems in their wake. It doesn’t matter if Peter didn’t mean to have you see them, they were too gorgeous to leave locked away in a dark room. They deserved the affection water and sunlight would give them. 

You clutched all three in your arms, the weight welcomed. You laid them out nicely across his bed, the third bouquet dropped a small card and you picked it right back up. 

‘Trouble- 

This day was made for you. 

Charlie’s at 8. 

Yours, 

Peter’

You bit back a smile. Charlie’s? It’s nice, too nice. And expensive. Peter got you reservations at Charlie’s? Holding the card to your chest you nearly squeal, you have no idea how he kept the secret from you. Or the roses. 

When you hear his bedroom door open you spin, waiting for him to be in the doorway so you can place a thousand kisses. Instead it’s Ethan and he looks surprised. “You’re here?” He points to the flowers, “Peter gave you those?” 

“I found them in his closet, he just tossed them in here! And he must’ve forgotten to tell me about Charlie’s.” Ethan doesn’t smile with you, he’s not sharing any joy. For a second you start to wonder if you were the person who was supposed to receive the gifts. 

“He didn’t forget.” You scrunch your face at him, “I think he did and I need to start getting ready now. Ethan, do you know how nice Charlie’s is? It’s fucking fancy.” You’re not prepared, you don’t have anything that screams Charlie’s worthy in Peter’s closet. 

“No, you’re not hearing me. There is no Charlie’s and there weren't supposed to be roses. I was supposed to get them before you got here, but, here we are. No roses and no Charlie’s.” You smack at his arms, pulling at his fingers to drop your flowers. 

“They’re mine!” Ethan’s on a mission to steal them, and he’s not being gentle. 

“No, you didn’t want them.” 

You watch him for a second, how could he say that, of course you want them. Thirty six reminders of Peter, how could you ever say no? You fight for what's yours, Ethan allows you to keep one bouquet. 

“I do want them!” 

Ethan’s not being nice to you tonight, he’s gruff with his response. “No. You didn’t.’ 

“You keep saying didn’t! I never said I didn’t want…” 

Except you did. Just like you said you didn’t want to get dinner with Peter. You feel terrible, you feel like crying. He’d had this planned for weeks and the whole time all you did was poke fun and degrade the holiday not knowing you were crushing him behind the scenes. 

You wanted the flowers, but you didn’t deserve them. You hand over the last bouquet silently. 

“I think it’s best if you pretend you didn’t see these.” You can’t imagine the ache Peter must have in his chest, he planned something out just for you to stomp all over it. It’s not about the value, it was the gesture. He can’t tell you how he feels, but taking you out to one of the nicest places in the city, where you know it has a month minimum reservation list makes you understand him just a little bit better. 

“This is so bad, Ethan. This is so,” you suck in air, “so bad.” 

“It’s not terrible,” a crinkle when he shifts weight. “But it’s not great.” You wince, if you could, you’d go back in time and shove your foot in your mouth, or tell yourself to shut the fuck up. 

“Well, I mean, what the fuck?! It’s fucking Peter! How was I supposed to know he was pro valentines day?”

“How was he supposed to know you were anti valentines day?” 

You sink to the bed and hold your head in your hands, “I just want Peter right now.” You want to hug him and kiss him and tell him how sorry you were. Ethan hesitates for a second, before stepping closer to lay the flowers across your lap. 

“You found them. They’re yours.” You protect them from being taken, but still have self-pity. “I don’t deserve them.” Ethan scoffs, “of course you do. Everyone deserves pretty flowers.” 

You pout at yourself in the mirror and fix any smudges. Brushing out any stray wrinkles your newest dress might’ve made on the way over. Ethan had very kindly instructed a pledge to pick you up an outfit so you could change before Peter got back. 

With minutes to spare, he’s back and taking a deep breath at your appearance. “Wow.” A surprised hum when you kiss him, you wipe red from his bottom lip while you apologize. “I’m so sorry, petey.” 

“For what?” A look around the room, red roses give him the reason. “Oh. Hey, it’s no big deal and I-” A frown when you silence him by holding a finger to his lips. 

“I’m sorry. I found those flowers and all I could think about was you and how much it meant to me that you got those for me, then I saw the card and I couldn’t believe you got us reservations and I just felt… special. I’ve never had a valentine, but I get it now. It’s just a day you get to dote on me extra hard.” 

Another surprise kiss, “and if you didn’t already cancel I think we can get to Charlie’s on time. But if you did, that’s okay. Because I think those are the most lovely flowers I have ever gotten, and I might have seen a little teddy bear in there but I didn’t wanna get too presumptuous.” 

This time, Peter kissed you. “There’s also a homemade card.” 

“You didn’t!” You fall in closer to his chest, his hands can have free reign tonight, you wore the dress just for him. 

“I did. I even wrote a little poem.” 

A chaste kiss, “just when I think you can’t get better.” 

“There’s also glow in the dark mini golf planned for after.” A peck, “so thoughtful and handsome.”

A whisper, he’s got blown pupils and hoping he’d get another kiss. “And your strawberries are in the fridge.” 

Your hearts about to explode, “fuck, I love-” you stop yourself, but you heard it and so did Peter. He brushes it off, “love?” Fuck it, you’ll both keep circling around it. 

“Yeah, I love love.” 

A hungry kiss, a squeeze to the back of your thighs. “Yeah, I love love, too.” 

[timmydraker]

CW: use of R word

Tim who, as much as he doesn’t want it to be true, is a poster boy for typical Neurodivergence. He’s more logically thinking that emotionally and needs obvious signs of someone’s emotional state that he can put together to understand how he should respond to help them.

But that’s not what bothers him because that doesn’t bother his parents.

Instead it’s his passion, though not in technology and detective work as they quickly found use for that in their business, but for bugs.

Ever since he was a kid Tim has been enamoured by insects and arachnids and even fungi. He would only read books that talked about bugs or had one on the cover, but since it helped him learn to read at a steady pace his parents didn’t mind.

At least, not at first.

When Tim got into coding just so he could make his own little web-journal for all his bug finds, they were happy he was learning how to organise and structure at just six years old, but when he only did those things regarding bugs…

Tim had his first panic attack when he watched his father pick up his terrarium filled with Diapheromera Femorata (Stick bugs) and chucked it into the bin. The glass shattered as the corner his something hard and he was forced to watch his bugs struggle to navigate the glass and rubbish, most of them injured.

His mother had gagged when she saw them and demanded the whole bin be burnt with the bugs still inside.

Tim had been so heart broken, but mostly confused. His parents traveled the world to dig up dirt and old items that were mostly the same yet they didn’t like bugs?

When he asked one his Nanny’s she gave him an answer that he would never forget, “Well, you see… only those people like bugs, y’know? The… special ones, like re-“

Tim never even let himself think of the last word she spoke and from then only forced himself to only focus on his computer work. He still loved photography but now he took photos of skylines and trees, not the beautiful beehive a few yards behind his house or the spider webs that sat between branches like art works. He took photos of Batman and Robin and for a long time that was enough to make his longing bearable.

If he still followed several pages and articles about bugs either a secret email account, that didn’t matter.

His parents were happy with him even if they still made remarks about his ‘stupid little fixation’.

It’s when they are going over the paper work for Bruce to be Tim’s legal guardian while they weren’t home with Tim’s older brothers hanging around as moral support (bodyguards) that his parents mock him.

Janet is signing some paper with a stupidly expensive pen and chatting to no one in particular when she says, “You’re all lucky we killed this nasty little bugs of his so you don’t have to deal with them.”

Everyone else in the room freezes, beside Jack who huffs a laugh and adds, “Good thing we did, he’d probably be more of a retard otherwise- talking about ‘habitats’ and bloody spiders.”

All of the members of the Wayne family are dead quiet as Tim sits there with a clear look of disassociation coming into his eyes. Alfred has a calm look on his face that tells all who know him that he’s furious and Bruce is strikingly similar.

Jason looks ready to attack and Dick isn’t even moving to stop his brother or calm anyone down.

Damian is holding onto Titus’s collar like a lifeline but seems to give the hound some kind of silent order as the usually calm dog begins to growl low and dangerous.

Jack and Janet tense and stare at both dog and master, Jack ordering him to control his dog.

Bruce stands, letting Titus growl and taking the half signed papers and throwing them in the bin, “I changed my mind, I will be taking you to court for full custody of my son. Leave my house now so I may obtain a restraining order.”

Janet genuinely flounders for a moment and begins to shout about outrage and audacity but when Dick sees that Tim is starting to cry he stands up and reminds them that he is a cop before moving to pick up his second youngest brother and leaving the room.

Tim doesn’t hear much else, only muffled shouting and the sound of a door slamming.

He distantly realises he’s in the family room, not the one they use to have guest but the real one with beanbags and a snack draw, and is being cradled by his brothers. Even Damian is beside him, holding onto his hand tightly as they wait for Bruce and Alfred.

Tim sobs into Dicks chest for Alamos a whole hour before settling more, Bruce coming into the room and Jason and Dick reluctantly hand him over to he can be held by their father.

“Tim, chum, it’s alright. We’ve got you.”

The boy in question shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t talk about the bugs I promise-“

Bruce squeezes him tighter and kisses his head, “I don’t want that. What I want is to hear about your bugs.”

Stunned, Tim looks up at him with confusion and barely gets his mouth to move enough to ask what he means.

Dick coos from beside him on the next couch and runs a hand through his hair lovingly, “My sweet baby brother we love you, and you love bugs! So of course we want to hear about it. I’m so sorry we didn’t know how they had been treating you but it was wrong. There’s nothing wrong with you, I swear it.”

Tim sniffled, nodding absentmindedly. They gave him a moment for their words to sink in before Damian spoke up, “Timothy, I demand you tell me about your bugs.”

Jason makes a noise and elbows Damian as if to tell him to shut up, probably thinking the other was being rude, but Tim knows his brother well and just smiles. “I can do that, Dami. I… I don’t think you’ll be very interested though.”

Damian scoffs, “I will ignore that statement as it implies I would waste my time with something I don’t care for.”

Bruce smiles at his youngest and holds Tim’s hand, “I agree. Could you maybe tell us about why you like them? Or your favourites?”

It takes him a moment to respond, but when he looks at all their open expressions and gets an encouraging nod from Alfred, he stutters out a response before gradually gaining confidence as they ask genuine questions to his facts and descriptions.

They each make an effort to ask him about bugs, Jason asking a few times if he wants to check out some books that he knows use bugs as symbolism’s and Dick asking if he can tell him the difference between insects and arachnids several times. Damian and Bruce are both a bit more subtle with their support at first, but after a month Tim enters his room to find a giant terrarium with several different sections so he can have multiple bugs that might not get along with each other.

Bruce and Alfred don’t even make any comments or give disapproving looks when Dick and Jason reveal they each got a tattoo of the bug that Tim said he associates with them.

[crypticminx]

Enemies to lovers au ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Felix Catton was a popular student body that seemed so utterly artificial to you.

From his lean, supermodel like body to his outrageous facial piercing and even his ridiculously expensive clothes—everything seemed to irk you to no end.

Even the man’s whole life and every teeny bit of information you heard from gossip sounded like something that sprung from an unrealistic movie.

What made it even worse was his attitude, one that wasn’t too far off from the cocky cliche types you had no patience for in high school.

While you would sit and mind your own business, your mind attentively focused on the information in your textbook, you’d see him happily stroll on by—his hand always intertwined with a girls, of course. It almost infuriated you how those girls would chase him around like love sick puppies, a poor character trait on their part.

There were so many other men on campus, but only one Felix and that was the problem.

Felix this and Felix that, couldn’t you escape him for just one second?

It appeared not, as when you found yourself smoking a cigarette to escape the party filled atmosphere for a quick minute on the balcony of a flat, which belonged to someone’s name you didn’t even know, in walked the man himself.

“Got a light?” he asked you, interrupting the peace that was supposed to be your only moment of freedom from the obnoxious drunks inside.

Taking a minute to observe his flushed face, a result of one too many beers, you hesitantly handed your lighter to him after fetching it from your purse.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, taking a few clumsy seconds to light the cigarette poking through his lips.

In perfect unison, you both painfully stood in silence, keeping your distance from each other as nicotine would slowly trail down both yours and his throat and release with each exhale. The two of you creating quite the cloud of foggy smoke.

“I’ve seen you around, y’kno,” he took a small drag, gently tapping off the ash growing on his cigarette.

If this was his way of starting a conversation as an attempt to bring you home with him, he was doing a miserable job.

“I’ve seen you too,” you replied, sounding disinterested as you continued to face the distance ahead as opposed to Felix.

“Always got your head in a book, drinking beer by yourself,” he slowly dragged his feet as he circled around you. “…giving me dirty looks whenever you have the chance.” You couldn’t see it, but you knew he had to be sporting one hell of an arrogant grin.

No, he wasn’t trying to take you home, he was flat out insulting you.

Rolling your eyes with a disdainful expression, you tossed the remaining cigarette to the stone cold ground, crushing its entirety in one stomp.

Okay, if he wanted to play this game, so be it.

“What’s your point,” you questioned him with hostility, feeling your blood boil when his face was sporting the exact look you pictured it to.

“My point is,” he swallowed, his structured jaw clenching, “even with all the drinking I’ve done, I can sense you don’t like me.”

You found it comical, not even ten minutes with him and he was getting to all the nitty gritty. You absolutely pitted any girl who spent more than twenty minutes with him. you could probably name a few.

“And do I need to like you, Felix?” You inched yourself closer to him, not caring if you crossed some sort of stupid boundary that was created between the two of you.

“No no, of course not darling,” he shook his head while you cringed at the subtle name calling. “But nobody likes a bitch.”

Oh, he was a fucking piece of—

“However, you’re the fine exception.”

Your eyes squinted with confusion, finding yourself surprised that you weren’t about the cuss the tall man out. Instead, pure tranquility roamed through your composure as your mouth didn’t budge.

“What if I kissed you?” He interrogated you, his voice was loud and serious, not one ounce of alcohol collided with his system to say the things that flew out of him. “Would you still dislike me then?”

“Excuse me?” You aggressively spat out, starting to feel more frustrated than full of your previous rage.

“I said, what if I—“

“I heard you!” you profoundly interrupted him, coming to your senses that all your douchey assumptions about him were right.

“Wait,” he called out, almost sounding desperate like he had some good point to be made.

You refused to let this silly conversation continue for any second longer. Dashing straight for the the door, but one swift tap of your shoulder and suddenly you found your back against the brick wall and Felix’s lean arms alarmingly barricading you from exiting.

“I also know that you’ve got the highest grade in our lit class.”

Great, so he was gonna make some joke out of that too.

“And when I read your work that was on display, I found myself in love with how beautiful your writing was.”

It was a simple assignment. A poem based on a classic Shakespeare play, you just happened to have chose a midnight summers dream. Felix’s favourite.

“You….,” confused eyes scanned him up and down as you tried to picture him reading any sort of literature, “like poetry?”

“I like pretty girls who can write,” he flashed a confident smirk before his body mindlessly pushed him to do something he hopefully wouldn’t regret.

He leaned his tall frame down to the perfect level of letting his lips slowly embrace yours. The second you felt the softness from them, you wanted to pull away with all your might, but a weak part of you felt curiosity win you over.

As his tongue danced away with yours in circles upon circles, the taste didn’t stench of alcohol. Instead there was some sort of sweetness to it, something that made it all seem worthwhile.

Closing your eyes in an amused way of defeat, you savoured the moment from the long kiss. Soaking up his touch that maybe felt too alluring once his hands smoothly made way to your hips. You could feel the ambience of enjoyment twinkling it’s way in the air and you wondered how the hell you got here.

Felix was as good of a kisser as he was an asshole.

Breaking free from a passionate kiss turned make-out, you witnessed a side of Felix that almost made every negative aspect of him vanish from the depths of your mind. You trailed back to the very feeling that was his lips on yours and you wanted to possibly continue as you noticed Felix looked just as stunned as you.

Until—

“Felix, mate,” a man with piercing blue eyes and dark locks popped his head out the door, looking at the two of you dusting yourselves off while trying hide your sheer content that sprouted in the form of rosy cheeks. Luckily, his pal didn’t seem to pay any sort of mind. After all, this was typical Felix behaviour.

“Been looking for ya, get your ass inside and have a shot with me!”

“Duty calls,” Felix whispered in your ear, holding your soft hand for a quick second before letting go, even though it was clear he didn’t want to.

As he was about to part ways from you, he stopped before he turned to you for one last time before the two of you would go your separate ways into the long night ahead.

“See you around, if you’re not too busy with all your books.” He blew you a cheesy kiss.

You didn’t say anything to his antics, instead you tossed him your final smile, while on the inside, you were squealing with foreign joy.

Fetching another cigarette to help you process what just happened, maybe he wasn’t so bad after all…

[pinksturniolo]

If I Can’t Have You, No One Can - Part One

Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader

Summary: Matt can’t seem to stand the fact that he can’t have you to himself. He knows it’s wrong to want you. After all, you’ve been dating his best friend for the past few months. But he never claimed to be a good guy. And he’s more than willing to show you just what you’ve been missing.

Content warnings (not in every chapter): smut, oral, fingering, raw sex, cheating, unhealthy relationship, obsession, spanking, use of alcohol

word count: 3,887

written in first person pov

Spring 2023

I never liked L.A. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice city. Besides the cost of living being outrageously expensive, the weather was almost always nice and there were a lot of fun things to do. It’s the people that are insufferable. The increasingly large number of influencers and rude celebrities make me want to move away to a small town where nobody knows me, somewhere with a lot of nature and miles of land between you and your neighbor.

I grew up in Pasadena, moving closer to the city after my parents divorced and my mom switched me to a different high school. After I graduated, I got a job in merchandising downtown working for a clothing brand. It was always my dream to work in fashion and I was lucky to be in a spot I wanted.

Working in the fashion industry and living in L.A., I was bound to end up in the circle of today’s social media stars and to be quite honest, there were only a handful of people I actually liked. One of my coworkers, Jackson, became my best friend and he was very outgoing, always dragging me along to influencer parties and events. He had a lot of connections which were good for work but as far as I was concerned, I tried my best not to get involved with anyone on a personal level.

But life has a funny way of throwing you for a loop. Jackson introduced me to Mark who was also in the same line of work we were in. We instantly clicked, the conversation flowing easily. He was attractive, funny and nice. It didn’t take long before we became exclusive and our friends were over the moon, saying how good of a couple we made.

A few months had passed, and I was content. But there was something missing. He was a good boyfriend and treated me well, but I just didn’t feel… passion. I didn’t feel those fireworks. That heart racing, mind bending, butterfly inducing feelings that were portrayed in every romance movie or book you’ve seen or read.

The only person who ever made me feel like that was Matthew Sturniolo.

Matt and his brothers Chris and Nick happened to be really good friends with Mark, and I was introduced to them once me and him started dating. I found them charming, hilarious and some of the nicest influencers I had met so far. Me, Jackson, and Nick became inseparable, hanging out almost every weekend.

Mine and Matt’s friendship started out innocent. He was a little shy at first, but it didn’t take long for him to open up around me and we found that we had many things in common.

Maybe more than I have with Mark.

The more time I spent around him, the more I liked him. And it was rarely ever one on one interactions. Most of the time, we all hung out in a group setting but I found myself looking to him when something was funny or observing his reaction when we were watching a movie, and hanging on to every word he said when he joined in on conversations.

As much as I tried to deny the fact that I had developed a huge crush, I couldn’t help that my mind was constantly filled with thoughts of him.

Thoughts of his smile, his laugh, his eyes. The way he looked in the mirror when he fixed his hair, the way his pinky lifted from the cup whenever he took a sip of his drink. I found myself wandering how well his lips would fit against mine. How his hands would feel on my body, the sound of his voice panting in my ear if he was on top of me-

It was sinful. I felt horrible and disgusting and I’m sure there was a special place in hell reserved for me.

So, I tried to back off as much as I could. Whenever Mark went to the triplet’s house to hang out like we did almost every week, I made some excuse that I didn’t feel good, or I just wanted some alone time. He was a little concerned at first but then stopped questioning it after a while which I was thankful for.

Matt and Nick constantly blew up my phone, asking why I suddenly stopped coming over and I kept my responses as dry as possible. Even Chris called me a couple times, but I ignored it. I felt bad but I knew it was for the best.

 I wanted to respect Mark because even though it pained me to finally admit to myself that I wasn’t in love with him, I did care for him, and I didn’t want to break up. We had only been dating for a few months so obviously we weren’t that serious yet to consider moving in together or even discuss marriage but that didn’t mean that he deserved for his girlfriend to lust over his best friend.

And then one night, when they were all at Top Golf, Jackson called me. I knew I would never hear the end of it if I ignored his call, so reluctantly, I picked up.

“Y/N! Get your bum ass over here, I’m sick of you avoiding us. You’ve had enough alone time. You need to come back to reality.” He scolded.

“Jackson, I’m not avoiding anyone.”

“You sure about that? Cause I could argue there is a certain someone-“

“Jackson.”

“Y/N. I’m serious. I miss you, everyone misses you.”

“I miss you guys too…”

“Okay, so why can’t you come out?”

“It’s… complicated.” I sighed in frustration, unsure how much longer I could keep dodging the situation without explaining it properly. I had a feeling Jackson knew why. He was my best friend, and best friends always knew.

“Complicated how?” He pressed.

There were a few seconds of silence as I tried to find the right words to say, but I just couldn’t come up with anymore good excuses and I knew I was fucked.

“Well, I’m not hearing any good explanation, so if you’re not at the triplet’s house by the time we get there, I’m literally coming over there and dragging you out of the house myself.”

Click.

Yeah, I was fucked.

I walked up the driveway to the entrance of the house, my heart racing and legs feeling like Jello. I really needed to get my shit together. I hadn’t seen Matt in a while, and I found myself extremely nervous as I entered the front door. I walked up the stairs, seeing everyone at the kitchen table. Everyone except Mark and Matt.

I smiled, setting my purse and keys on the table and greeted everyone.

“Mark said he had to finish up some work at the office. Something about a deadline that was coming up soon.” Jackson said, noticing the curious expression on my face.

“Okay…” I replied. That was weird, he’s usually good at communicating with me and I had assumed he had come back with everyone after Top Golf.

Jackson just shrugged, taking another bite of his chicken finger. Once I saw the familiar styrofoam box with red lettering, my jaw dropped and I put a hand over my heart, acting like I was just utterly betrayed.

“Wow, you guys got Cane’s without me?” I asked.

Chris rolled his eyes while Nick gave me a dirty look. “Excuse me, you haven’t been here in fucking 6 months.” He spoke.

“Don’t be dramatic, Nick. It’s been 3 weeks.” I replied.

“I’ll save you my last piece of toast if you promise to stay and watch a movie tonight?” Nick said, giving me puppy dog eyes.

My heart dropped and I gave him a soft smile. “Maybe.” I replied.

“Don’t get your hopes up, it took some threatening just to get her over here.” Jackson added, glaring at me.

“Whatever, you’ll only be breaking Matt’s heart if you don’t stay.” Chris said, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t read.

“What do you mean?” I asked. Did it really matter to Matt that much whether I was here or not?

Chris started to speak but then Nick stomped on his foot which caused him to hunch over in pain. “What the fuck dude?” Chris said, rubbing his hurt foot.  I raised an eyebrow and looked over at Jackson. What the hell is wrong with them?

He simply shrugged again, a small smirk on his face and went back to eating. His nonchalant attitude was starting to bother me. I was definitely having a talk with him later.

“What he means is… Matt misses you. He said you’ve been ignoring his calls. And don’t get me started on that. You have a lot of making up to do.” Nick said, referring to the fact I’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls.

“I know, I’m sorry… Where is Matt anyways?” I asked, looking around.

“He’s in his room if you wanna go talk to him.” Nick replies, and I get nervous again, butterflies starting to form in my stomach.

I nod and walk away, towards Matt’s room.

I had only been in his room a few times and it was usually with Nick or Jackson, never just me and him. It wasn’t even a big deal but for some reason, the thought of being alone in his room with him scared me.

I knocked on his door softly, waiting for his response. After a few moments of silence, I knocked again, calling his name quietly. “Matt?”

He still didn’t answer. I was about to give up when I heard him respond, “Come in.”

I slowly cracked the door and could see it was dark in his room, the only light coming from the TV. I walked in and saw that he was in his bed, submerged under his comforter, only his head peeking out. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were barely open.

“Oh shit, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” I said and started to move back towards the door.

“No no, its okay. I needed to get up anyway.” He rasped, sleep still thick in his voice.

He sat up slightly, moving the blanket down and I tried not to stare because he didn’t have a shirt on, and I was getting a full view of the tattoos on his arm. Even though he had just woken up, he still looked so handsome.

 He pats the spot on the bed next to him, inviting me to sit down. My heart is still beating faster than usual as I sit on the edge of his bed, making sure there was more than enough space between us.

“All that golfing got you tired?” I ask teasingly, smiling at him. He laughs, a sound that I hadn’t realized I had missed so much.

“To be honest, I’ve been tired all the time lately.” He responds, running a hand through his hair.

“Me too.” I say, looking down to my lap. This small talk was killing me.

“Is that why you’ve been declining my calls? You sleeping too much?” He gets straight to the point, and I can feel his eyes on me.

I laugh nervously, unsure how to tell him the real reason I’ve been avoiding him.

“I’ve just been really busy with work. You know how that goes.” I say, hoping he won’t question me further.

He hums and nods his head, as I finally make eye contact with him. “I don’t really believe you… But that’s fine. I just hope it’s not because I’ve done something wrong.”

“No, of course not. It’s not that you’re doing anything wrong…” I reply, stopping before I say anything I regret. You’re just consuming my every thought and desire.

“So, it is something I’m doing then?” he asks, wanting me to clarify.

My words seem to get stuck in my throat as I look at him, unsure how to even answer that. His eyes are burning into mine, making my heart race faster.

“No.” I simply reply, and he raises his brows at my dry response.

“Yes.” I blurt, and his face is now plastered with confusion and hint of amusement as I get flustered, pinching my nose and closing my eyes in frustration.

“Yes?” He asks.

“No- fuck, I meant-“ I start and Matt interrupts me, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Yes or no, Y/N?” He says, now enjoying the fact I was making a fool of myself.

“No, Matt. It has nothing to do with you, okay?” I say, getting up from his bed. Lies.

“Now can we go watch a movie before Nick starts throwing a fit?”

✿

A couple hours and three bags of popcorn later, we were all sat on the couch as the credits of Edward Scissorhands roll on the screen. I checked my phone and to my surprise, Mark still hasn’t texted or called. I’m sure he’ll just call me in the morning.

Jackson yawns and stretches his arms out in his seat next to me, announcing it’s time for him to go home. “We’ll talk later, yeah?” He says to me, and I nod as he gives his goodbyes to Matt and Nick. Chris passed out halfway through the movie until me and Nick started spraying whipped cream smiley faces on his forehead, annoying him enough to make him storm off to his room.

Once Jackson is gone, Nick scoots next to me and throws his arm on the back of the couch behind me, giving me a suggestive look.

“Sooo… are you gonna spill the tea? What’s up with you and Mark?” He asks, nudging my shoulder.

I furrow my brows in confusion as his question. “What do you mean?”

I can feel Matt staring at me from his spot across the other side of the couch.

“Well, Mark barely even mentioned you tonight and then he randomly left saying he had to finish up some stuff at work. And I’m guessing he didn’t even tell you because you keep checking your phone like you’re waiting for his call.” Nick says.

“Wow, you’re incredibly observant.” I respond and I hear Matt chuckle.

“I know. Also, that would explain why you’ve been MIA the past few weeks. Are you guys gonna break up or something?” He asks.

I shake my head. “No, it’s not that.”

He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to elaborate.

“But something is going on with you two?” Nick questions.

I hesitate and look at Matt, an unreadable expression on his face. He’s leaning back on the couch with his arms crossed, his legs spread slightly in his sweatpants. “Please stop beating around the bush, Y/N. We just want to make sure you’re okay.” He speaks.

I sigh, throwing my head back and tucking my hair behind my ears. “Okay. Look, we’re not breaking up. But I’ve just felt different recently… like… I don’t know, like I don’t feel the same way about him like when we first met. Maybe we rushed into things too quickly. He has been working a lot lately and I just feel… lonely.” Empty. Bored. Unsatisfied.

Nick hums in understanding, tilting his head. “See, that makes sense. You guys have zero chemistry. At least that’s what I’ve always thought. Right, Matt?” He says, looking to him.

“Zero.” He replies instantly. His eyes have not left me since we started this conversation, and it makes me want to melt into the couch.

Suddenly, Nick gets a face time call and jumps up. “Shit, I have to take this. But we’re not done with this conversation, okay?” He tells me and I smile at him as he walks off upstairs.

I look at Matt, who now stands up and walks over to me, sitting down and putting his arm on the back of the couch, the same spot Nick had it in just moments earlier.

The way they switched places so quickly had my head spinning and the closeness of him next to me made my heart skip a beat.

“You know, you can sleep here if you want. I’m sure Nick won’t mind if you stay in his room.” He said politely. I smile at him, shaking my head. “It’s okay. I prefer my bed much better, no offense.” I reply and he laughs. “I won’t tell Nick you said that.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring your calls Matt… I guess my head’s just been a mess.” I tell him, looking to my lap, playing with a loose string on the rip in my jeans.

“It’s cool. You can talk to me anytime you need to though, you know. About anything.” He says ducking his head to try and make eye contact again. I give in, looking at him and his soft expression tugs at my heart strings like I’m a lovesick puppet.

“Thank you.” I reply. “But I don’t know if you wanna get caught up in that. I’ve been a little… frustrated, to say the least.”

His arm flexes behind me, and I see his jaw clench, a curious look now in his eyes.

“Frustrated?” He says and I realize I might have implied something with that statement.

“Uh, I mean, stressed, you know? Like I have all these pent-up emotions.”

Shit. What the fuck was I saying?

Matt is silent, and the way he’s looking at me has my heart beating a million miles a minute, my palms feeling sweaty and my head spinning.

Finally, he says, “Like you need a release, right?” My eyes are still locked on his, floating in a never-ending pool of icy cold blue that makes me feel warm in the palpable tension now filling the room.

“Mhm.” I say, afraid to speak, because I might continue to say incredibly stupid things I’ll regret.

I feel his hand ghost over the back of my neck, which causes chills to run down my spine.

He tilts his head slightly, his eyes travelling down my face, pausing at my lips. “I could help you with that too. If you asked.” He said quietly, almost whispering and looks me in the eyes again, a playful fire burning there and a sly smirk on his lips.

Before I can even process what he said, the next second, Nick comes bounding down the stairs from his room and Matt removes his arm from behind me, clearing his throat.

I jumped up, causing a weird look from Nick. “I-I need to go home. I forgot I have some things to do.” I blurt, going to grab my purse and keys from the table.

He looks back and forth from me to Matt, one eyebrow raised in confusion. “Okay… I guess I’ll see you later?” He asks and I give him a hug before walking to the front door past Matt, avoiding eye contact with him. “For sure. Later!” I say, trying to rush out the door as fast as I can.

Once I open the door and step out, I hear Matt run to catch up and I turn around while he shuts the door behind him.

“Y/N. Wait.” He says.

“Yes?” I ask, my breath coming out in short puffs.

The cool air of spring is blowing, leaves falling from the trees and flowers starting to bloom in the grass.

Matt looks at me in the same way he has all night and I notice he’s hesitating, his mouth opening but no words coming out.

“What?” I say, wondering what he could’ve possibly followed me out of his house for.

“Tell me you don’t feel what I feel.”

“What?” I say again, sounding like a broken record.

He moves closer to me, his body now a few inches from mine and I see his chest rise and fall quickly, his next words coming out breathlessly.

“Tell me you don’t feel something between us. I need to know the real reason why you’ve been ignoring me.”

My heart is pounding at his boldness, and I clutch to the keys in my hand so hard my skin stings with pain. I was not ready to have this conversation and all I could do is freeze as he waits for my response.

“Y/N, tell me you feel nothing. That I’m just a friend to you and nothing more.” He says softly now, reaching his hand out to brush his fingers against my jaw with the lightest touch.

I want to tell him that yes, you’re just a friend and nothing more. That I don’t have any feelings for you and I don’t think about you every moment I wake up and every moment before I go to sleep. That I feel nothing.

But I just can’t. I can’t say or do anything but stare back at him, my eyes surely saying the complete opposite of what I’m thinking.

He closes the gap between us, now grabbing both sides of my face in his hands, brushing his lips against mine. “Tell me you don’t want me.” He breaths, and my knees feel weak as I clutch onto his shirt. “Matt…” Is all I can manage and I’m not doing a very good job of convincing him that I don’t.

He groans at the needy sound in my voice, and I can’t take the tension anymore as I press my lips to his, kissing him. He instantly kisses me back, his grip tightening on my jaw and I’m not even sure how I’m still standing.

He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, our mouths moving in sync and it’s electric. His lips are so soft but firm in the way he leads, and when his tongue glides against mine, I moan lightly from the feeling. His hands now slip to my waist, mine still on his chest.

The kiss is becoming heated as we pant against each other, his fingertips digging into my hips and pulling me even closer to him. I feel his heart racing, the world slipping away like nothing else matters.

He kissed me like he couldn’t breathe, and I was his oxygen.

I wanted more and more, unsure that I will ever stop before a little voice in my head tells me that this is wrong, wrong, wrong. But it feels so fucking good.

No. This is bad.

“No-“ I say, suddenly pushing him away from me, catching my breath.

I shake my head, backing away from him now. “This is bad.”

His cheeks are tinted pink, lips swollen and red, his hair a mess.

“Y/N.” He says, taking a step towards me.

“I can’t, I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened.” I responded, stepping further from him. “I have to go.” And I turn away, practically running to my car and slamming the door, taking off before I can change my mind.

As I drive home, the look on Matt’s face replays in my head, and I touch my lips, the feeling of his kiss still there.  

I’ve never felt this strongly before, and as I drive further and further from him, I feel an invisible string tugging on me, willing me to turn around.

It’s a dangerous game to play, whatever we’ve started.

a/n: matts pov and disgusting smut in part two 😁

feedback and thoughts appreciated 💕

taglist:

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo

[rottenpumpkin13]

AGSZC manage to piss Lazard off and as punishment he sends them all to run a convenience store for a day

• Angeal appoints himself the store manager and automatically starts compulsively cleaning the store.

• They have Sephiroth man the cash register.

• Cloud is given a position of authority—walk around and survey the store to catch anyone trying to steal.

• Zack is given a moogle costume and a glittery sign. His job is to stand outside the store and attract customers.

• Genesis is at the hot dog counter. He's outraged.

Genesis: Why anyone would think to have me be in charge of hot dogs is beyond me. Do I look like a sausage expert to you people?

Sephiroth: You look and act like you have a PhD in sausages.

Genesis: .....

• A child goes to the cash register to purchase some candy and a comic book. Sephiroth insists that they take it for free, no payment required.

Angeal: Why on earth would you do that??

Sephiroth: Childhood is a delicate stage in a person's life that must be treasured.

• Cloud is following an elderly man around the store because he's convinced he's stealing.

• Someone drops a jar of pickles in aisle 3 and Angeal nearly has a heart attack. He rants to the customer about the expense of the pickles and the additional cost of cleaning supplies required to clean it up.

• Meanwhile a single mother and her child go up to the cash register to pay for some groceries. Sephiroth lets her take the groceries free of charge.

Angeal: WHY?

Sephiroth: It's inhumane to charge her for basic necessities when she has a child to care for.

• Cloud tackles the elderly man to the ground. The elderly man was not, in fact, stealing.

• No one has bought a hot dog yet and Genesis is once again outraged.

Genesis: I'm in disbelief. Why is there such a lack of interest in my hot dogs? Are my hot dogs not up to par? Does my presence not exude the allure necessary to entice customers to purchase my hot dogs?

Sephiroth: That's exactly what you sound like when you're lonely.

Genesis: SHUT UP.

• Cloud is still following the elderly man around the store because he's convinced he's stealing.

• Meanwhile a man goes up to the cash register to pay for a bottle of liquor. Sephiroth lets him take it for free.

Angeal: WE'RE GONNA GO BROKE.

Sephiroth: WE ALL NEED TO NUMB THE PAIN IN SOME WAY, ANGEAL.

• Cloud chases out the elderly man (still not stealing) with a broom.

• 1 minute later Zack comes back in looking very upset.

Zack: Someone stole my sign!

Angeal: Who?

Zack: The old dude who ran out of the store just now.

Cloud: I KNEW IT.

[animationmovieshipps]

Goodbye Gift - Part 1/3 (OPLA Luffy x Reader)

Since you were younger, you used to read geography books about the four corners of the world and were amazed by how fascinating those places seemed, full of islands you'd never visited and exotic things you'd always dreamed of seeing in person.

It was always your dream to explore the incredible world you lived in, experience things you never had before, and learn new things about other cultures.

But unfortunately, you were forced to give up what you always dreamed of, when your mother died and you started helping your father in the family restaurant, which you would one day take over managing.

It would be very selfish of you if you left your father on that island alone, you weren't the only family he had, but you were still his daughter.

You pretended to him that your dream was nothing more than a silly childish thing, the last thing you wanted was for him to feel guilty for keeping you stuck on that island.

Seeing that a small group of people had arrived at the restaurant, the restaurant's cook stopped stirring the sauce pot and went to talk to you, who was distracted reading a book.

"Hey, new customers just arrived." He warned you, with the ladle in his hand, he accidentally dropped a drop of tomato sauce on your book.

You were outraged and it was no surprise, you had saved three salaries to buy that book.

"Do you have any idea how expensive that book is?!" You raged.

"Sorry, so sorry." He quickly apologized. "I'll manage to clean up, but someone has to go take orders now."

Still in a bad mood, you huffed and left the kitchen, while taking out your notepad and a pen from your apron.

You were afraid of being rude to a customer, as you had done before, but the angry frown on your face quickly disappeared when you laid eyes on one of the boys sitting at the table.

He seemed like the type of person who brought joy wherever he went. Moreover he was so handsome, and had such a bright smile that it made your heart flutter.

"Hey, if you want I can take their orders for you." Aisha, another waitress who was also your friend, asked.

"No!" You quickly denied it, which surprised her. You had never refused when someone offered to take orders in your place. "I mean, leave it to me, I have to work too."

She looked at the table where the group that entered was sitting and chatting and quickly understood your special interest.

"One of those cute boys caught your eye, huh?" She said in a suggestive tone of voice, lightly elbowing you.

"Shut up." You mumbled, ignoring her and went to the table.

You had to stop in the middle and take a deep breath to stay calm and not do anything that would embarrass you in front of the boy with the straw hat.

That wasn't the first time you had felt attracted to a client, but for some reason, none of the previous times compared to what you were feeling for him.

Flashing a smile, you walked over to the table where he was sitting, trying not to freak out when you saw him looking at you.

"Hello there, beautiful thing." The blonde boy hummed when he saw you. You looked at him and he blinked at you.

"Hello." You greeted him with disinterest. "Welcome to 'Tropical Flavor', can I take your orders or do you need some more time?"

"Oh." A young redhead raised her hand to indicate that she was the one ordering, before looking back at the menu. "I think I'll have the..."

You were about to write down her order, when you dropped the pen when you were startled by the loud noise the door made when it opened.

The reason was soon discovered, three threatening men entered, one of them had a gun, which he started pointing in all directions, which left customers terrified.

Except the last ones who arrived.

You picked up the pen from the floor and placed it with the notepad on the table, before approaching the man with the gun.

"Can I help you guys?" You asked with all the calm you had.

"Is she really talking civilly? To the bandits?" Nami asked in a loud whisper. "We have to do something..."

"No." Luffy quickly said, not taking his eyes off you for even a second. "Let's see what she does on her own. If things get serious, we'll intervene.”

Nami didn't believe what he said, but decided not to question it.

"Pass everything you have at the cash register and no one will get hurt!" He pointed the gun at you, trying to sound even more threatening than he already did.

"Okay, okay, nobody has to get hurt." You said, raising your hands to look like you were protecting yourself.

Waiting a second until he was distracted, as soon as you saw him look away from you, you quickly disarmed him and hit him with a punch to the face, which made him fall to the ground unconscious.

Realizing what had happened to the boss, the other two robbers who spread throughout the restaurant to take other clients hostage, soon came to his aid.

"Finally something interesting is happening here." You said, taking a defensive stance and preparing to fight again.

It wasn't difficult to defeat everyone else, they might be bigger and have more physical strength, but you were smaller and more agile and you knew how to use that to your advantage.

You received a round of applause for saving the restaurant from being robbed, while the last people who arrived were still dumbfounded that you had handled that situation alone. All but one.

"I knew she was a good fighter." He murmured, his interest in you growing even more after what had just happened.

"And we never doubted that." Nami joked.

You took some ropes from the pantry, tied the four of them together and asked one of the employees to go and tell the police.

Soon after, you returned to the table and took the notepad and pen back.

"Sorry for the delay." You apologized briefly. "Is everyone already ready to order?"

They placed their orders and you wrote down each one.

"I'll be right back with the drinks." You said, turning to head back to the kitchen. But you had to turn around again when you heard one of them shout your name.

The cute curly-haired boy smiled at you again. Until that moment you had never noticed how beautiful his eyes were, so big and bright, they seemed like they were looking straight into your soul.

"Name's Luffy." He introduced himself.

You smiled, even his name was cute.

"Nice to meet you then, Luffy." You said, before finally heading back to the kitchen, not knowing how you had managed to look away from him.

Timeskip...

After he and his group ate and paid the bill, they left, but Luffy remained in the restaurant, buying not very expensive drinks just so he could stay there, seeming to wait for the end of your shift.

Luckily for him and for you too, he didn't have to wait much longer. You looked at the clock hanging in the kitchen's wall and were happy to see that it was already 8 pm.

"Well guys, my time has come." You said, as you carefully took off your apron.

"Look how rushed she is to leave today." One of them said in a suggestive tone of voice, which made you groan in frustration when you saw that it was the beginning of yet another provocation.

"Does it have to do with a certain boy who didn't leave until now even after he finished eating?" Aisha joined.

"I hate you guys." You grumbled, as you went to the staff room.

"Oh stop, you love us." Aisha laughed.

You changed your uniform, which was basically a flowered blouse, pants and an apron, for the dress you arrived there in and let your hair down, which always needed to be tied in a bun to prevent your hair from falling into the food.

When he saw you again, this time with different clothes and hair down, the expression on his face suddenly changed. It felt like he was seeing a completely different person, but he knew it was you.

"Hey, wanna go somewhere else?" You asked him.

He smiled and got up from his chair, leaving some coins on the table to pay for the last glass of juice he had had.

You held his hand in yours and led him with you to the exit.

Across the street, there was an open bar on the beach. Whenever you left the restaurant, you would see people dancing to the loud music and drinking colorful cocktails from glasses decorated with pieces of fruit.

But it wasn't for you, you hated environments with loud music.

"Seems cool." Luffy commented to you, noticing you looking over there. "You wanna go there?"

"Honestly no." You replied, turning your face to look at him again. "I'd rather be somewhere where it's just you and me."

He was surprised by what you said, but it didn't take long for him to smile. That's what he wanted too, but he didn't know how to say it.

"Well then lead the way."

[santaasi]

VIOLENCE

pairing: boxer!jj maybank x gf!reader

summary: jj maybank wants to put the whole world at her feet, but the only way he knows in this life is violence

warnings: angst, a lil bit of fluff, (kinda) violent behavior, some language, no use of y/n, jj calls reader kitten, english isn’t my first language

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this work was originally conceived as a small drabble with a maximum of 1.5k words but it became a full one-shot. i guess i can't be brief. as always, I recommend you to listen to this amazing song while reading: Eden - Suffering for Love. Have a good time <з

She hated what he was doing. She hated this little ring, which looked like a cage when even animals could not be kept. She hated being in a crowd of sweaty men drinking beer and shouting his name. She hated watching his face, which she loved to cover with kisses, get hit after hit. And she hated that she felt a vague pleasure when his fist flew into his opponent's face.

All in all, she hated violence. And JJ Maybank's lifestyle was full of this violence.

But more than that, she hated the fact that she was the cause of this violence in JJ's life. Everything he did was for her and because of her. He kissed the ground she walked on.

Therefore, he was ready to do anything just to give her a bouquet of her favorite flowers. Or to arrange the most unforgettable date for her on the beach. Or to give her that rare and outrageously expensive book for her birthday that she had dreamed of for so long. And for all of this, money was needed, which JJ did not have. But there was hatered and violence in his veins, which for the first time in his life came in handy.

At first, these illegal fights were just additional earnings for him, when he had to make ends meet, to repay debts, or when he just wanted to pamper his princess (always). But then... the high-stakes, wins, the big money, her smiling face - pulled him into a place he didn't want to get out of. And JJ Maybank knew perfectly well that if she found out about his new little part-time ‘job’, she wouldn't like it. So, he kept it a secret. Violence was his little secret.

But she was never stupid. She found all these little gestures on his part sweet and innocent. She didn't wonder where he got the money from, because he had a job. In this godforsaken car repair shop. But when Mr. Joyce, his boss, called out to her on the street, asking her to send her ‘errand boy’ to take his share after he was fired, she began to suspect something was wrong.

With his first big win in boxing, he rented them a small cozy house on the outskirts of the cut. It was a gift for their second anniversary. And she moved from her parents' huge mansion on Figure 8 to this small house to be near him, to love him and to spent her whole life with him.

They never talked about JJ's new job, she didn't ask where his money came from, or where he got new beatings every week right after the previous ones had just healed. She didn't want to get into his soul with questions, having already understood perfectly well for two years that if he wanted to, he would have told everything himself. But all this bothered her, because of which she did not sleep well, she always walked around sullen and gloomy. And at some point she just couldn't stand it.

She remembered this day as if it were yesterday. She going down the dark stairs to the basement, standing in the crowd, looking around for the top of his blond hair, and how her heart stopped for a moment when she saw him in that cage. She stood frozen with horror and fear for him, unable to say even a word. She saw how he struck blow after blow, how his eyes burned with determination and how he grinned triumphantly into the crowd, enjoying himself after winning.

He always enjoyed the taste of victory and the roar of the crowd shouting his name at such moments, because it made him feel needed, noticed and appreciated. But as soon as he saw her frightened look at him, everything inside him turned upside down. She was standing there, looking at him with her big, frightened eyes, like a little deer that had met with a gun pointed at her in the woods. And the air was knocked out of his lungs in a second just from one of her looks, which stabbed into his heart like a knife. He watched her slowly squeeze through the crowd, trying to get out, trying to escape from what she saw.

For the first time in his life, JJ Maybank didn't know what to do. He understood that she needed time to make sense of everything, but he didn't want her to make some hasty decision without him.

So, he quickly took his salary and things and left the basement, meeting with the cold wind and with her. She stood hugging herself, trying to warm her body, which was shaking either from cold or shock. JJ draped his jacket over her shoulders and lit a cigarette, waiting for her to speak first.

Everything inside him was shaking with fear that she would leave, that she would not want to be with him anymore. And this thought terrified him more than anything else in the world.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" she asked in a barely audible voice, concentrating all her attention on the flashing light at the end of the road. A tiny cloud of steam escaped from her lips.

"It didn't matter, kitten," the guy croaked, looking at her. JJ had never seen her so seriously cold before. There was a lump in his throat. "You never cared where I took the money so I..."

"It didn't matter? Doesn't it matter to you, JJ?!" her voice rose and she turned to him, looking at him in rage with tears in her eyes.

"’Cause it does metter to me! ‘S metter to me where you are, if you're okay, how y’feel.… And after everything we've been through, did you jus’ decide to hide that you're engaged in illegal fighting now?" her chest heaved and her fists clenched. She did not understand at what point she stumbled, that he no longer trusted her. What did she do wrong?

"Why don't you trust me, Jay? I thought... we..." her lips trembled and her voice cracked. All the rage seemed to have disappeared in a moment, leaving only pain and resentment. Resentment against the person she loved most, for whom she fought for so many years and went against everyone, even against her parents. And for what?

JJ stood next to her in a daze. He watched her body shudder from the cold and saw tears begin to shine in her eyes in the light of the lanterns. She looked like a little kitten who had been kicked out of a warm and cozy house onto the street, where she was surrounded only by a big world filled with fear and horror. And to tell the truth, that's how she felt. All those relationships filled with love and trust that she had tried to build brick by brick between them were now slowly crumbling before her eyes. She never asked questions. And maybe that was her mistake. Maybe that's why her JJ decided she couldn't be trusted. Maybe that's why he decided to hide part of his life from her?

But that wasn't the case for JJ. He has always trusted her and will trust her no matter what happens, because she is the one for him. She was always there for him in the most difficult moments of his life. She pulled him out of the swamp of darkness and pain that he had been immersed in all these years. She took him under her wing, took care of him and loved him. JJ always believed that she was his guardian angel. That at some point in his miserable life, God, if he really existed, sent her to save his, JJ Maybank's, worthless life and give him a reason to stay.

She was always perfect in his eyes. Innocent and pure. He couldn't let all the dirt and violence he was dealing with show on her. But even more, he couldn't bear the thought that after recognizing him as so evil and cruel, she would abandon him. That's why he's hiding it. That's why he didn't tell her anything.

"Jay, please say somethin’.… this silence is drivin’ me crazy," her voice was hoarse and helpless. She looked at him with her big tearful eyes and JJ felt his heart breaking. Did he really do this to her? "What did I do wrong?"

Maybank could have sworn he barely heard her last words. The phrase swept past him like a cold wind, leaving behind a wave of goosebumps. He wished he hadn't heard them. He wished he didn't feel that stabbing feeling in his chest that they caused. But JJ heard that soft voice, broken for a second, which, like a blow to the gut, forced the air out of his lungs.

JJ Maybank had done the most terrible thing to her. He made her doubt herself. And he hated himself for it. The guy frowned, trying a couple of times to open his mouth and say at least something ... at least something so that she would understand him.

"That's what I thought," Dana whispered softly, nodding and turning around and walking in the same direction from where she came.

The sound of her footsteps echoing down the empty street brought JJ out of shock and he immediately started running after her. He couldn't let her go. She was his world. His everything.

"Kitten, wait! Stop! I'll explain everythin’, okay?" catching her hand, he gently turned her around.

The girl's face was pale and lifeless. For the first time in all this weeks, JJ noticed blue circles under her eyes, and a lack of shine in her pupils. She didn't say anything, just stood there waiting for his explanation. The girl knew that she would never be able to leave him without listening. No matter how many times JJ Maybank messed up, she would always accept and listen to him.

"I jus’ wanted to give you better life, kitten. I- I-... ‘n that was the only way," JJ whispered, taking her hands in his. His fingers moved slowly and soothingly over her palms.

"I know you don't like... all this. I know ‘s too much. But ‘s worth it to see y’smile..." JJ looked at their joined hands and let go of one, reaching into his pocket and showing her a stack of greenbacks.

"There's a thousand bucks here. I got a thousand dollars for jus’ one fight, kitten. ‘S enough to cover all our expenses and there will still be..." Maybank looked up at his girl, smiling, but when he met her sad expression, his smile immediately faded.

Her name came out of his mouth, but she just shook her head as she came closer. Her hands gently touched his face, tracing each wound with her finger. A split eyebrow. A bruise on the cheekbone. A bleeding scar on the bridge of his nose. A split lip. She flinched a little every time her finger touched a particularly badly bleeding wound, as if all these wounds were hers.

"Do you really think that this money is more important to me than you are? Do you really think that this money is worth all your injuries to me?" Dana whispered softly, frowning slightly. Her voice was soft and soothing, but her eyes were shining.

JJ saw her bite her lower lip to keep from crying. His heart ached. JJ saw her pain. He said her name again, but she shook her head, taking a deep breath.

"You still haven't realized in all these years that I don't care about money, Jay?" She cupped his face with her hands and looked him straight in the eyes. "I left my parents, I left my life behind to be with you. I don't need money, I need you."

JJ's arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him. He needed to feel her next to him. To feel that she would never leave. JJ rested his chin on her hair, inhaling the scent of floral perfume.

"I know, but I don't want you to live in need, kitten. I promise it for a while.… I'll figure something out"

JJ kissed the top of her head, holding her close. And she believed all his words again, hoping that he would really end it soon. She had no desire to watch him torture himself because of her.

"I can't do this anymore, Jay," the girl confessed months after their first encounter. This time his ‘performance’ went worse than expected.

She stood behind him with her arms crossed over her chest, looking at him through the mirror. JJ slowly treated his wounds on his face, sometimes spitting blood clots into the snow-white sink. He looked terrible. His entire torso was dotted with red bruises, and there was no living place on his face. Even after the worst fights with his father a couple of years ago, he didn't look that bad.

She watched as he slowly applied the alcohol-soaked cotton wool to his bruised eyebrow, pressing it too hard, which made him cringe in pain. She suppresses the urge to reach out to him and take everything from him, treat his wounds properly and kiss every bruise on his face, as she has done since the very beginning of their relationship. First because of Luke, and then because of his... his job. But she remained standing behind him, leaning her head back against the cold tiles on the wall. It seemed to calm her down a little. But all these thoughts about JJ, about these illegal fights, about what their relationship had become because of it, did not give her peace of mind. She didn't want to support this violence anymore. She doesn't want to see him suffer.

"You know 'm doin’ this for ya. For us, kitten," JJ said wearily, putting down the cotton wool and turning to the girl. Her gaze swept over his features again, which she did not recognize because of the swelling and bruises, and the girl frowned even despite his soft smile. "'m doin’ this so that we have the money to pay for this house. And for the bills. And for the food and all other stuff that ya need"

"If I get a job too, then you won't have to fight..."

“No! I have everything under control. You're not gonna work in some diner just ‘cause I..." the guy swallowed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Just ‘cause I can't provide for the life you had before me."

She shook her head and frowned. That was the whole damn problem. The fact that before her relationship with him, she was a kook, lived in a large mansion with a cook, a maid and a gardener, had an unlimited golden card and could do anything. And JJ was a pogue. And he didn't care about it until they decided to move in together a year ago, and since then he has set himself the goal of doing everything possible so that his kook princess doesn't lift her finger a day in her life. Although she didn't mind, she was never one to be afraid of getting her hands dirty. She was willing to work in the most God-forsaken eateries twenty-four hours a day just so that JJ wouldn't enter this fighting ring anymore. Because to see him like this almost every night…

"I'll figure it out, kitten. It's okay," she felt JJ's hands wrap around her cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs, which she didn't even notice how they flowed. She focused her gaze on him and shook her head, biting her lip, suppressing a sniffle.

And again she hears "I'll figure it out." Sometimes it seems to her that she has heard this phrase from him every day throughout the year. Although it probably is, because all they've been doing this year is fighting. Then make up. And after that they quarrel again. So in a circle.

Her whole life over the past year has become like trash day, from which she can not get out.

"No, Jay. Nothing's gonna be okay as long as you go there," she couldn't even bring herself to say out loud the place where her boyfriend went almost every night. She swallowed the lump in her throat and put her palms on top of his. "With each new time you come in a worse and worse state… 'm afraid... one day… 'm afraid..." her voice trembled and she had to take a couple of breaths before speaking again. "I'm afraid that one day you won't come home, Jay. And I don’t wanna know... I don’t wanna know how I will live after that"

She felt a new wave of tears roll down her cheeks, and Jay cursed softly to himself before moving away from her. Over the past two months, these conversations have become more frequent and it annoyed the guy. None of these talks ended well. And JJ Maybank hated fighting with his girlfriend because she was the only one he lived and did everything for in this world. There was no point in his life without her. But despite this, he said what he considered necessary at that moment. Pause. They needed a pause.

The girl's eyes widened and she stared at the guy in shock. He couldn't offer it. Couldn't he?

"I'll stay with John B. until... until you calm down," the guy came out of the bathroom, opening the closet, taking out a pre-packed bag of things. She followed him out, watching him pull on his hoodie.

"What the hell, Jay? Are you leavin’ me?" her voice broke into a scream, and her heart began to beat at breakneck speed. He couldn't leave her. He won't leave her.

"This is a pause. ‘S just a pause for a few days. I'm tired of fighting’ with ya," JJ breathed wearily, without even turning to her.

"If you stopped goin’ to that damn basement, all the quarrels would be over!" the girl shouted, watching him leave.

"I'll text you" was the last phrase he threw before the front door slammed shut and she fell to the floor sobbing.

She didn't understand at what point everything had changed so much. At what point did all their lovely quiet evenings turn into this? At what point did their I love you’s and happy morning cuddling turn into JJ deciding to leave her?

It all looked like a terrible nightmare and she didn't know how to deal with it anymore.

Two weeks have passed since their last fight. It was the most difficult and terrible two weeks of her life. After almost three years of a relationship, she had to relearn how to be on her own and live alone.

For the first few days, she woke up in the morning in the complete silence of their small house in a cold bed, remembering how the door slammed after he left. She walked from room to room like a zombie, trying to occupy herself with something just to avoid thinking about him, but every time she was distracted by something, her thoughts returned to JJ. When she brushed her teeth in the morning, she looked in the mirror, hoping to see him in the reflection and laugh at the mean faces that he made to make her smile. When she was cooking in the kitchen, she remembered JJ quietly whistling some silly tune from an ads, which annoyed her. Even when she was lying on the couch reading a book, she always remembered how JJ would lie down next to her, wrapping her in his strong arms and asking her to read aloud. Maybank didn't give a damn what kind of book it was or what it was about, he just liked listening to her voice and heartbeat.

In those two weeks he wrote to her only a couple of times. She couldn't find a place for herself, only occasionally asked Sarah how JJ, who lived in her and John B.'s house, was doing. From her, she learned that today was his another fight with a man who was famous for his special cruelty. And that scared the hell out of her.

That was exactly the reason why she was standing now among shouting and jostling men, as she had been a few weeks ago. Beer and drool flew in all directions while some young boys were fighting in the boxing ring, who were put on the "warm-up" before the main fight. The fight between her JJ and Broady Harington aka killing machine. And her heart leapt in her chest at the very thought of it.

She wanted to see him before the fights. To apologize. To say that they can solve everything. That her life doesn't make sense without him. And that he doesn't need to participate in this fight. But the bully guard at the service entrance wouldn't let her in. He pushed her out of the room, forcing her to wait for the end of the fight. So she stood in the crowd, fiddling with the hem of her white dress that Jay had bought her for their first anniversary. She thought it would reduce the degree of tension between them.

The girl in the red swimsuit and the referee entered the ring, announcing the start of the fight and then the world around her stopped. It was the first time she had seen him in two weeks. All the wounds on his body and face had almost healed and he looked so young but determined that she didn't even recognize him at first. There was something wrong with him... something was definitely wrong. His gaze focused on the mat under his feet, the way he put on gloves with special slowness, and how the muscles in his jaw moved and tensed. He didn't even look into the crowd, as he did before every fight, to see her and get an encouraging smile. JJ Maybank was completely focused on his goal and in some way it scared her.

When Sarah told her on the phone that JJ had been preparing for one main fight of the season for a month. She didn't believe it. He usually chose small daytime fights that earned him a good income. But over the past month, he began to disappear in the evenings, and he began to bring more money, even began to offer her to look for a real house. Not a rented one that they had now, but their personal home. And she was surprised by that, but she did not attach any importance to it. But now... now she realized that all his evening absences and visits with particularly severe beatings, and all this talk about a private home…

A loud roar knocked her out of her thoughts and she turned her gaze back to the ring. JJ lay on his back, covering his face with gloves, while his opponent delivered a series of strong punches, trying to break through the defense. The air seemed to be knocked out of her lungs and she leaned forward, clinging to the bars, breathing heavily.

"JJ!" she screamed before one of the guards forced her to move away.

The guy's whole body tensed up when he heard her voice for the first time in two weeks. And as if at the behest of some force unknown to him before, he turned the man sitting on him over, making a blow. The girl exhaled in surprise, looking at her boyfriend's bloody face. At the rage that distorted his beautiful features, and a wave of goosebumps went through her body. She missed the whole fight, wandering in her thoughts. But now she was watching JJ snatch his victory from the hands of a man who was famous for his violence. And she was even a little proud.

The referee's voice starts counting down to the end. JJ continues to strike without noticing anything around him. The man lies exhausted under him.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

JJ Maybank wins. The crowd is shouting and rejoicing. Drops of beer break and soak into the fabric of her white dress, but she doesn't care. She pushes through the crowd, heading out of the ring to meet him. Her winner and the beloved guy she missed so much.

His arms close around her waist, pulling her to him. She feels the metallic taste of blood in her mouth when he covers her lips with a forceful kiss and for the first time she does not resent it. Her heart beats in time with his as he holds her in his arms and looks into her eyes.

"The last one," he whispers into her hair, kissing the top of her head. She raises her head uncomprehendingly, frowning slightly. "It was the last fight. I... I won't participate anymore."

"Why?" she asks softly and naively, childishly, fluttering her long eyelashes.

The guy grins. She sees his eyes glisten and feels her heart begin to beat faster. Just like that first day when she bumped into him on Midsummer and he spilled the entire champagne tray on her expensive dress. Even then, she somehow realized that she had found the very love here that they write about in books and make films. And it was at that very moment that she already realized that JJ Maybank was her man.

"I don't wanna see y’worry and cry ‘cause of me. I don't wanna see you on the other side of the cage among these nasty men, ‘cause you came to support me. I don't wanna quarrel with you anymore, kitten" His voice was soft and gentle, and so soothing that she felt a rush of butterflies in her stomach again.

"So I found a regular job ‘n I'm gonna be the most ordinary person with the most ordinary life, but with the most fuckingly perfect girl in the whole damn world."

She giggles through her tears and pulls him closer to her, dragging him into another kiss. He doesn't resist. When had he ever refused to kiss her? JJ Maybank was created to kiss and please her. Therefore, at this very moment, he couldn't care about anything more than her in his arms and his lips on his lips.

"Hm! Maybank, I don't want to distract you from your entertainment, but come into my office and pick up your check. Unless, of course, you want to leave me 600 thousand dollars," the head of the bookmaker's office in which Maybank worked chuckled, which made him take his mind off his girlfriend.

He lets go of her waist, and is about to follow the boss. But before that, he turns back to her, pulls her to him, kissing her on the cheek.

"I hope you chose the house, kitten, ‘cause tomorrow we are gonna buy it. Now you definitely won't get rid of me, princess," the guy whispers in her ear, and then disappears into the crowd.

She stands there for a couple more minutes, trying to understand everything he said to her, before breaking into a loving smile and heading for the exit from this evil place, to which she hopes never to return. JJ finds her sitting on a bench outside a couple of minutes later, and they return home, where for the last time, she will heal his wounds and kiss each scar so that they don’t sting so much.

And when the next evening, or a week, or even a month later, JJ Maybank does not go to the basement for another fight, but stays with her in their own house to watch a movie, she can do nothing more, but only enjoy life. And to love a guy who now represents only gentelness, not violence.

JJ Maybank was her gentleness, and she would never let him go.

thankx for reading <3

i'm a little dissatisfied with this work, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway! you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

[smittywing]

WIP Wednesday - Marriage 101

I thought I'd post a little more of this while I was thinking about it.

First part is here: | 1 |

Tim wore his favorite black suit - the one with the pinstripe that was just a notch shinier than the rest of the fabric - to their appointment at City Hall. It was probably too expensive a suit, given the motivation behind their...appointment. He thought of it in euphemism, because it was fake, it was pretend, but the legal ramifications were very real and this was supposed to have been a very big decision that he’d made in practically no time at all. 

“Hey, um. Hey.”

Tim looked up to see Jason skid into the hallway. He straightened from his contemplative position with his elbows on his knees and stood up. 

“Hey,” he said. 

Jason was wearing a black suit too, and a white shirt and a red tie. He’d done something to his hair - something with product that didn’t exactly work, but it looked like he’d tried, and Tim tried to smother the grin a wave of fondness pushed up to his face. 

“Do you - I mean, do we have time to talk for a sec?” Jason asked and Tim’s anticipation plummeted. Jason was going to back out. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Of course.” 

There was a little corridor where the bathrooms were and they ducked in there, past the marked men’s and women’s to the back wall. 

“So listen,” Jason said, rubbing the back of his neck and not looking directly at Tim. “You doing this, it means, I mean - “ He stopped and took a breath. “You being willing to do this means a lot to me. But if you have, you know, ideas. About marriage. And you don’t want this to be your first, I totally understand. And you shouldn’t feel you have to. Because it’s kind of a big deal. To some people.”

“Is it a big deal to you?” Tim asked because that hadn’t really occurred to him before, that Jason might have a traditional romantic side and that he might one day have hopes of a wife and family. 

It was kind of a weird thing to think about. 

“Me? No. I - No,” Jason said. “I’m barely even a legal entity.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, messing up whatever careful but ineffective work he’d done with the product. “I just don’t want to fuck things up for you. Like, if you want to date Blondie again. Or someone else. I don’t want to cramp your style.”

Tim shrugged. “I think that ship has sailed with Steph,” he confessed. “And hey, we’re already kind of family, right?”

And this would help Jason out. A lot. And it would let Tim see his face light up talking about English Lit. “So,” he concluded. “Let’s do it.”

Jason’s face split into a genuine grin - not a smirk or snarl or sneer but an actual grin. “There’s probably no favor big enough to pay you back for this,” he said. 

“That’s okay,” Tim said, jamming his hands in his pockets and easing Jason back out to the main hall. “When you’re a rich and famous novelist, you can put me in one of your books. As the star,” he specified. “Not the cannon fodder.”

“I’ll give you a whole series,” Jason promised. “Tim Drake, Secret Agent.”

“I like it,” Tim said. “But please give me a better drink than a watered down martini?”

$

“I thought you guys were Punking me,” Dick complained when they stepped back into the main hallway.

“Would we do that?” Jason asked. Tim admired how he could sound offended, outraged, and sarcastic with four words.

“In a hot second,” Dick returned. 

“Am I late?”

“For the love of little fish,” Jason muttered, good humor lost. “Did you invite the whole damn family?”

“I invited myself,” Barbara said, poking him in the chest with her finger. “It’s cute how you think you have secrets from me.”  She glanced back at Tim.  Tim waved.  “And you,” she added.  “You should know better.”

Tim shrugged.  He hadn’t actually been trying to hide from her.  He’d just hoped she wouldn’t sound any alarms.  “Should we be expecting any more guests?” he asked.

Jason glanced back at him, realization flashing on his face and he turned quickly back to Barbara.

“I didn’t forward the info,” she said.  “But I know some people are going to be pissed if they hear about this from the Gazette instead of from one of you.”

“<i>Some people</i> can just butt out,” Jason snapped and Dick looked pained.

Honestly, Tim hadn’t really thought Bruce would care too much, beyond the optics of it and he had a plan for that, and he was going to tell Steph, but later, for this very reason.

“Alfred?” Dick sounded angry for the first time and Jason went white and then red.

“I’ll talk to Alfred,” he muttered.

“What do you want us to say to Bruce?” Barbara demanded.  “Did either of you think this through even a little?”

“What do you want us to say to Bruce?” Jason asked.  “We’re getting married to get money for college because you’ll just want to pay and I don’t want you to?”

“Just because he’ll take it badly doesn’t mean you shouldn’t tell him,” Babs said.

“We’ll just tell him it’s a practical arrangement,” Tim offered.  “For practical purposes. He should understand that.”

Jason shot Tim a look Tim couldn’t even begin to interpret and then looked back to Barbara.  “Will that check the box, Barbie?” he asked.

Barbara narrowed her eyes. “I suppose.”  She slapped a redweld against his chest.  “Congratulations on your wedding.”

Jason frowned and unlatched the folder, peering inside.  “Huh,” he said.

That was unhelpfully vague so Tim took the expandable folder from him and pulled out a handful of paperwork.  Birth certificate.  Social security card.  Passport.

“Hey,” he said.  “You’re a real boy Mr. Peterson.”

“Yeah,” Jason said.  He looked back at Barbara.  “Is this - ?”

“Airtight,” Barbara said with her first smile of the day.  “Every piece of it.  It’ll stand up to an intensive background check.  Just give me a heads up if you’re joining the state bar because those people look for everything.”

“Deal,” Jason said and then, to everyone’s surprise, maybe even Jason’s, he hugged her, resting his chin on the top of her head.  “Thanks, Barbara,” he whispered.

“

“Mr. Peterson and Mr. Drake?” someone called from the wooden doors.  “The magistrate is ready for you.”

“That’s you,” Dick said unnecessarily.  

“We know,” Tim assured him.  

“Yeah,” Jason said. “C’mon, we need you two to be our witnesses.”

“You only need one witness in Gotham,” Barbara corrected.

“Yeah, well, make sure this guy doesn’t mess it up, okay?” Jason asked and then squared his shoulders.  He looked at Tim and held out his hand.  “C’mon,” he said.  “We have to pretend like we like each other.”

“Oh yeah,” Barbara said.  “This is going to be the best marriage ever.”

$

And so they got married. There was an awkward part where they were supposed to kiss and they both tilted their heads the same way and it was absurdly clear they had never kissed each other before, but no one said anything and they escaped with their dignity intact. 

“So,” Tim said, out on the street after. “What now?”

Barbara elbowed Dick. Dick elbowed Barbara back. This escalated. Tim ignored them. 

“I’ll submit my paperwork and hope for the best,” Jason said doubtfully. “And I guess in August, I start crashing at your place?”

“I wasn't sure if you needed to crash there before,” Tim said. “Or want to get your mail sent there, at least. So I made you keys.”

“I don't need keys,” Jason scoffed but took them anyway. 

“Jason Peterson needs keys,” Tim countered. 

“Okay, yeah,” Jason conceded. “I guess I’ll have to stop by for my mail now and then.”

“You’d better,” Tim told him. “If Gotham U sends you a ginormous envelope, you have exactly one hour to get over here and open it or I’m doing it for you.”

Jason dropped his head back and laughed. If Tim watched the ripple of his throat, well, he was married to the man. “Fair,” he allowed with a grin. “So, uh, see you around, I guess?”

“Yeah,” said Tim. “See you around.”

And that was that. 

[darklinaforever]

I've had ten people mention to me that "You have the books" whenever I talk about my disappointment with the Michael(a) change. And I find it so hypocritical because it would be so insensitive if someone adapted a sapphic love story and then decided to change the gender of one of the characters. The very same people crying about "you have the books" "bffr it is just a show it's not that serious" would be throwing hissy fits if the opposite was done. One girl got bullied and made fun of because she had stayed up all night to watch Bridgerton and ended up crying. She was disappointed with how Polin was handled and then was even more shocked with Michaela that she started crying. Like?? Please have some nuance. You can't act like it isn't "serious" but at the same time talk about how important LGBT (and other diversity reps) are important (they are!!). Because if it isn't that serious than it isn't that serious to care about a show not having LGBT characters as a lead? The logic isn't there.

I am angry about Michaela. Just like how I would be FUMING if any of my LGBT ships were altered or messed with. My OTP is literally Nico and Will from Percy Jackson series. If someone decided to make one of them into a girl, I would fucking riot.

It is very simple.

I would have the same reaction for any type of character.

If we change a woman into a man. Or if we change a queer couple into a heterosexual couple.

I would have the same type of reaction if we did this to any franchise with characters that are close to my heart and of whom I already have a precise image formed in my head.

The worst part is that I'm not completely outraged.

Part of me is happy to tell myself that we will have a central queer romance between women in future seasons. It's always cool to see representation when you're a queer person yourself.

But with Bridgerton I don't feel like it was the right place for this type of central romance.

Because there was already a story for Michael and Francesca. Which will surely be very different from the book in the show. While once again, it's literally the best of the lot and for which I hope for a fairly high level of loyalty. But Netflix also decided to go into fanfiction mode for WHWW.

And yes it disappoints me a little. And I'm not ashamed of it.

Who cares if I'm ironically called queerphobic for that / or for hating queer people. Or that tumblr is apparently a gay website, under the pretext that many members of the queer community are there, and therefore it is not the place to make this kind of comment.

I remind that I'm bi and that I love tons of queer romances and that I actively hate queerbaiting. I'm still not over Supercorp to this day by the way...

The fact is that the situation is very simple but many people deliberately do not understand our discontent. We have loved a male character established within a specific story for years and we do not appreciate that all of a sudden, we are deprived of the expensive and bone vision of a Michael Stirling that we have already waited a long time.

Besides, for the most part we would hope that they would not screw up the trio Fran, John and Michael, as they were able to do with Anthony Kate and Edwina (seriously, the madness with Edwina went too far in season 2). Well it looks like it's also on the verge of being destroyed. Fran didn't seem to enjoy her first kiss with John, but she seemed to have an instant crush when Michaela appeared, while Michaela didn't seem to have any particular reaction. And that already goes against all the foundations laid between these three characters... and that annoys me even more.

[angelcakealec]

Alec found the fae. Which really wasn’t all that difficult at all. And Alec did stop to wonder if it had been Hayden’s intention for them to actually find him when he’d sent them out in the first place. Or if it had merely been an underhanded tactic of getting Alec and Jace out of his hair for a while. Which offended Alec to be looped in with the likes of Jace in the first place.

He’d followed him though. Jace hovering somewhere out of sight as he often did. But a steady presence at his back. The fae seemed to be purposefully heading somewhere. And Alec did realize where they’d ended up. Outside Priam Books.

Alec not feeling particularly charitable towards the fae sent an arrow hurtling towards him. Expecting him to catch it, but he did not. And it embedded itself in his shoulder. Alec momentarily stunned fumbled for a second arrow more for show than any actual intent on releasing it. But a moment passed. And Alec realized with a cold shock of something unsettling, that he was now alone. Jace was no longer there.

The moment of hesitation sent a jolt of adrenaline through him as he reeled back a step at the sudden appearance of the enraged fae. He towered over Alec like he was particularly small and insignificant which Alec was not. He wordlessly took aim but the fae snarled and tore the bow out of his hands and simply broke it over his knee.

Alec stared at the broken bow with a look of astonishment. “That’s expensive!” He snapped. “I do hope you’re insured!”

The fae peered at him like he’d just done something interesting. Then sneered. “I suppose you think yourself funny.”

“No.” Alec muttered, crossing his arms darkly. “I don’t.” Because Alec never had been funny. Not like Jace or even Isabelle.

The fae narrowed his golden eyes at Alec. And Alec thought perhaps in some alternate universe he could have been good looking. He straightened a bit. Still eyeing Alec with a cool interest. Then he glanced around, as if he expected more nephilim to appear.

Alec glanced around with him, then raised an eyebrow. “Expecting someone?” Then he let out a yelp of surprise as a ball of energy shot past him. Which if he hadn’t moved, would have hit him full force. He sputtered a bit. “What did you do that for?” He demanded, outraged.

The fae who looked as if he hadn’t just thrown a fire ball at Alec considered him again. “You shot me.” He said.

“Of course I shot you!” Alec glowered. “I suppose you expect to just simply let you go rampaging through a bookstore? Books are priceless. And not meant to be trampled over.” He didn’t bother to include the bit about it being Helenus’ bookstore. That was none of his business. “And!” Alec straightened. “You. Are under arrest.”

“Am I?” He asked, apparently deciding to be amused with Alec. “On what grounds?”

“Disturbing the peace.” Alec told him matter of factly. Still a little bothered he was forced to converse instead of letting Jace simply swoop in and handle it. But Alec was adaptable. “And you dented that Mercedes over there.” He pointed. “So vandalism as well.”

The fae followed his finger to the car in question. Seeming to just realize it was there. When he looked back at Alec there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

Alec stiffened, readying himself for when the fae flung himself at him. Alec never was particularly gifted at hand to hand combat. He was a distance fighter. But he managed to hold his own for a while. Blocking and striking at the fae until he’d ended up pinned to a dumpster, the fae’s hand curled around his throat.

The fae changed tactics suddenly, burying his face in Alec’s hair.

Alec made a disgusted face. Because how dare he. He head butted him and the pressure around his neck released and he fell to the ground with a thump.

But the fae was on him again. Apparently deciding physical force was more enjoyable for him and jerked Alec upside down by his leg. And flung him back into the dumpster.

Pain erupted in Alec’s leg as it got pinned at an unnatural angle underneath him. He let out an outraged scream though it was in as much pain as anything else. And damn Jace. Damn him to bloody hell for leaving Alec to deal with this mess.

@singingshadowshelenus

[lizzie-queenofmeigas]

The injustice to Laena’s (especially her !!!) character in HOTD is soooo outrageous and TB has so much role in this because the way she was BLATANTLY written and sidelined to prop up Daemyra or TB just use her as a gotcha against Rhaenicents likeee.

The racist writing in reducing Laena into this 2nd option that Daemon settled for + him not gaf about his black daughters with her. Remember Driftmark, Daemon giggling at Laena’s funeral, sleeping with another woman when Laena’s body wasn’t at the bottom of the ocean, standing there enjoying the show and completely ignoring his daughters while they were all bleeding and beaten but rushing to Rhaenyra and her son & blocking Cole.

But Rhaenyra’s stans just chooses to ignore that blissfully when it’s been 2 years already since the show aired, they should’ve realize that already. It’s time to also admit that the white characters who benefits from this reduction of Laena, her daughters and the Velaryons as well include Rhaenyra. Let people criticize that how she was written is bad and racist instead of just dismissing them.

It should be acknowledged within the fandom long ago how harmful this is instead of blindly praising ships and counting points for TB at the expense of the black characters yet some people cannot get their heads out of their assess like pls do better.

At the end of the day, what’s the difference between TG hoping that HOTD will erase Daenaera and TB hoping that Nettles will never appear ?

I personally don't see how making Daemon a terrible husband to Laena benefits his character, probably because it doesn't. And while the treatment of Laena benefited show! Daemyra (I don't see it, but that's probably because I am a book fan that can see how terrible the show is and how they fucked up everything) it benefited the Hightowers way more. They sidelined the Velaryons for the Hightowers, mostly for Otto and Alicent.

They erased TB kids personalities to give them to the TG kids (Aegon, Aemond and Helaena). Erased everything regarding Daemon's relationship with his daughters, but they kept a bunch of stupid scenes with Otto and Alicent. Erased the friendship of Laena and Rhaenyra to further the Rhaenicent agenda and make Alicent more sympathetic. They erased young Laena's scene with Vaghar in favour of Aemond's, they also changed the age Laena was when she claimed Vaghar probably for Aemond as well. They opted to not put a single scene of Rhaenys and Corlys with their kids and yet we got a lot of Otto/Alicent scenes.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

A storm is brewing and since I'm stuck indoors, I thought I could have some fun. Big emphasis on fun, for my sake and everyone else's. Please. So, without prolonging this too much, I'm down for some theories and speculations today and when I do it, either call me Columbo or a clown, but what's important is that I do it in style.

I've observed that these days, some idols have been a bit careless with their watches. Are they using them simply as expensive accesories? Do they need to know the time or they have their managers to do that for them? Oh, to live an idol lifestyle....nothing but idleness, right?

Or is it? The suspects today are Park Jimin, Choi Minho and Lee Taemin. My assistant to this case @peppertaemint and her reliable sources brought to my attention something we've briefly talked about a few weeks ago. Actually, we made some jokes. The situation was as follows.

Was the Rolex broken and the guy didn't know? It seems a bit silly given that the watch is not cheap at all. And usually, with an item like that, you do cherish and take care of it. It's a status symbol (I'll expand on that below). Also, Minho is known for posting on Bubble at specific times. His birthday or SHINee anniversary. It's not part of the fandom's collective imagination. They don't need to invent their own math in order to come up with the number they want. It's pretty straightforward.

Now, what does 11:55 mean? Nothing for now, but it's close to 12:09 which is Minho time (thank you pptm again). Anyway, the jury is still out on this one. It might just be that Minho needs to fix his watch.

But well, well, well, what do we have here? Taemin himself showing the same negligence as his boyfriend Hyung.

In Taemin's case, I wouldn't be surprised he just didn't care that his time was wrong, but then what is going on? Do 2Min need to buy new watches? Did the Rolexes skip quality control and somehow these 2 idols are victims, scammed of thousands of dollars? Is it a trend? A secret code between them? I'll say that all of the above should be taken into consideration.

Finally, the third victim (?) of faulty watches, Park Jimin-ssi. In his case, we're dealing with a Patek Philippe. It's the type of watch that a media mogul like Logan Roy would appreciate, or at least that's what Tom Wambsgans thought.

Logan did not care at all about the watch and it ended up as the equivalent of hush money for a kid that they all made fun of when they offered him a million bucks if he scores at a game. Oh, I miss Succession so much.....

Back to Patek Philippe. As Tom said in his rehearsed funny line, everytime you look at it, it tells you how rich you are, aka a status symbol. Or in Jimin's case, it tells you Jungkook's birth hour?

Like Minho, we also know that Jimin has his Jimin hour, he knows his way around the date calculator and so on. And given all the investigative work already done by other people (like the thread I linked), would it be so outrageous, so hard to believe that it was intentional? I don't think so. It's a sweet gesture and it shows Jimin's attention to details. He did talk about Jungkook's birthday and was among the reasons why he was livestreaming.

Pre-recorded or not (or whatever excuses/conspiracies weirdos like to engage with) Jimin wore the watch in his home and it somehow it was Jungkook's birth hour. Could it all be just a massive coincidence? Maybe. Could the Patek Philippe be faulty? Maybe, but damn, these idols should stop buying expensive watches then.

Is it such a harmful and delusional theory that needs to be buried because some fans are either pussies or plain stupid? No. This fandom loves numbers so much when it involves 20 other pairings within BTS. I think it's fine to talk about an additional one. I'm not the biggest fan/follower of the number theories, especially when it comes to I-jikookers (they work those numbers like they're trying to fix the books), but it doesn't mean that everything is absurd or completely ridiculous.

I'm not ready to close the case, my work as a detective is not done yet. I'll put it on hold, who knows what other evidence I might find myself in posession of in the future?

[bleedingcoffee42]

so many wips! need to hear about casablanca <3

I did too much research into Lewis Nixon I and have to use it. Nix comes homes to his parents divorced, Stanhope being Stanhope and most of his grandfathers estate sold off. The will still not anywhere near a probate court. He's staying at the Yale Club and struggling with how much has chanced. Dick isn't back yet. Kathy is now the ex-wife. He doesn't have his dog. He has drinking and a bit of nostaglia and a family who owned a house damned near everywhere. Except---not anymore. There are articles in the paper about Grandpa's estate, he needs something to get his mind out of a fog. Starts looking into it, I mean what else does a former intelligence officer do? Some habits are hard to break.

The scene is set: The house in Monmouth Beach. It always seemed a little sketchy to him that the 'hotel' next door burned down because the town had been after the owner to shut the illegal hotel down. Even taking it to the NJ Supreme court. Still, the Nell Grace Hotel remained open. The town, filled with men like Grandpa who had outrageously large and expensive homes, probably were not happy with the operation of the hotel next door. So, it always struck him as convenient that the place burned down. And that they used the water spicket on Grandpa's house to fight the fire, a house he wasn't going to be staying at because it was winter and was winterized, yet the hotel was occupied and water was frozen. He's known the men in this neighborhood all his life, he wouldn't put it past them to resort to arson.

Why does it matter if the neighbor lady's house is gone? Well, probably nothing except that the records on Grandpas house list Mary Nixon selling it to another rich widow. Mary using an address in Newark he's never heard of. Mary who has been busy selling off everything. He's a little suspicious that the will left everything to her, without a single thing to his grandkids or Joel. He thinks there could be another will hidden somewhere and his guess would be the house closest to the ocean, the old sailor was always in a better mood when he could breathe in salty ocean air.

The problem was the house was sold and sold again. And the great hurricane of 1944 had battered the shore, destroying roads and houses. When he drives by so many houses are gone and another era of Jersey history forgotten. However, he remembers good times sitting under that red and white striped awning on the porch listening to stories of the sea, stories of Grandpa going to school with the King of England, meeting the Czar, having Stanhope meet the Pope(Lew is convinced it was for an exorcism) and a slew of other insane stories that were packed into amazing life of his Grandpa. Someone he wished he could have come home and talked to about everything that haunts him.

It doesn't make sense he got nothing. That Blanche got nothing. And Joel, nothing? He adopted that kid, named him after his own father, and leaves him nothing but the Nixon name? None of them needed money, but there was a lot of sentimental value lost. And something feels wrong. So he buys the house, and comes up with a reason to piss off whatever neighbors are left so he can find out who exactly was behind the Hotel burning down.

So why not make it a bar? Maybe some illegal gambling thrown in to really twist the knife. He has just watched Casablanca with Blanche, and he drank enough to get through it that he started to blur the lines of what was on screen and any fantasies he had of Dick looking fabulous in a tux and him being some snarky investigator who clearly was more of a love interest than Ingrid Bergman. Hell, that movie was about those two guys ending up together, wasn't it? Screw the girl, let her leave with the text book husband and the dog and save the world, who needs her when you have a buddy who has a gambling and drinking problem and sharp whit? So he names it Dick's Cafe Americana and has the arch thing from Holland built over the sidewalk to the house. Puts up dick's picture. Uses the bar that's already there because grandpa was a fine gentleman. Has the piano tuned. Adds tables. Hell, the place looks like it was sold full furnished, so he starts looking for hiding spaces he remembers to see if there is a copy of the will somewhere.

And Dick finally comes home and is a dick about not calling. So Nix has to call him and ask why he doesn't want the job he offered him. Instead of meeting in New York, take the train to Monmouth Beach I have something to show you--

And Dick Winters thinks his friend has gone insane but he's glad he's not drunk. Owning a bar seems like a bad idea, owning a bar because you want to piss off an arsonist even worse. Dick's been locked up in his bedroom for a week so he's not really upset at the change of venue and Nix tells him he can go swim in the ocean if he wants. beach is next door. Nix plays the piano for him, As time goes by, and Dick is 100% gone and agreeing to all of it.

Dick takes the job at the factory, and spends weekends with Nix on his little project. It feels like good times, working together. It feels like purpose. The struggle to blend back in at home lessens when he's too busy being a host to Nix's neighborhood parties on the weekends. He gets to see a little of the old Nix, the Nix who he met at OCS come through as he works the crowds for information and gambles and drinks with the rich neighbors. And he is weak for Lew playing piano....

Maybe it just ends up being another Winnix and a gay bar fic.