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#it probably wasn’t his only reason for going to law school
hxney-lemcn · 2 days
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Time for a Break — Housewardens x gn! reader
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summery: it's the end of the year and you have nowhere to go...
tw: slight angst (Riddle, Idia, Malleus)
wc: 1.7k (~230 per character)
Master List
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With nonstop overblots, exams, homework, studying, and keeping your friends in line, you hadn’t even realized that the end of the year was approaching rapidly. You could barely take in your end of the year grades before coming face to face with the fact that you have nowhere to go while everyone gets a summer break. Didn’t you deserve a break too? You felt like you were going to collapse and evaporate if you didn’t sleep in a bed that doesn’t have lumps. In a fit of despair, you go to the only person you can think of.
Riddle Rosehearts
Okay…so you are not allowed to come home with him. His reason for saying no is vastly different from his mothers reason. He doesn’t want to cause you any more stress, or have to hear his mother’s insults that she’ll inevitably spout towards you. No, instead he helps you ask Trey. Although Trey’s home already is a full house, his family welcomes you with open arms. All his siblings overcrowd you (no matter how much Trey tries to stop them), his parents ask many questions to get to know you better, and you end up sharing a room with Trey. All the while, you can’t help but think about Riddle, wishing you could find a way to get him out of his own personal hell. Over time, you and Trey visit Riddle, your only meetings being through his window. Every so often you’d bring Riddle a sweet treat that you learned how to bake either from Trey or his parents. As much as you enjoy having a break with such a lovely family, you can’t help wanting for the next school year to happen. Not for the school work, or the overblots (hopefully there won’t be any the upcoming year), but because you’ll get to see Riddle again, not through a window or with hushed whispers. But in person, speaking to each other freely once more. 
Leona Kingscholar
When you hinted about not having anywhere to go, hoping that the lion would take the bait and let you stay with him, he just ignored you. Didn’t even pretend to act like he was listening to you. Squinting your eyes, you stood up from his bed, announcing that Malleus might be willing to take you in…you couldn’t get far before Leona grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him and holding you close. Who said you could go and stay with that overgrown lizard? Wasn’t it obvious you were staying with him? You were scared of meeting his family, they were royalty and Leona had spoken bad of them. You had met his nephew, and little did you know that the boy had talked his parents ear off about you and Leona for a day before finding a new topic. Leona’s brother and sister in law welcomed you to their palace with open arms, greeting you warmly before excusing themselves. It was a bit to get used to, trying new foods, sleeping in a bed that was way too luxurious, being treated like royalty, becoming a nanny…yeah. You now realized one of the reasons why Leona dreaded coming back. As much as you adored Cheka…he could be a bit much. Overall, it's not the worst place to stay, but it would feel a bit lonely without Leona or Cheka around. 
Azul Ashengrotto
Oh boy…were you both that far in your relationship already? No? He’s just overthinking it? Okay, this was fine. He was a host after all, and he did owe you for basically saving his life…and being the one he loved. His only problem? His mother. As much as Azul loved his mother…he could not have her sharing his baby photos with you. He’ll have to work overtime over the summer to make sure that doesn’t happen (who is he kidding he can’t say no to his mom). How are you going to stay entire months under water? Who do you think he is? He’s got stocks of underwater breathing potions. When you meet his parents, you don’t have time to think before you’re swooped into a giant hug (probably the best damn hug you’ll ever get too). Then Azul is added to the hug and you're both being squished together. His mother loves you instantly, cooing over you both, feeding you some of the best food you’ve ever had while telling you embarrassing stories of Azul when he was just a little fry. Once again, you start seeing him in a new light, a much softer and loving one. He always tried to show you his gentlemanly and suave side, keeping just how soft of a person he was locked deep down, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.
Kalim Al-Asim
What do you mean you have nowhere to go? Weren’t you coming to his place? He would be honored to have you as a guest! Just think of all the sleepovers, dates, game nights, and kisses! Actually, he might’ve gone crazy if he was away from you for such a long time. Kalim’s family doesn’t mind either, they don’t even notice one more person in their extravagant palace. Instead of just being swarmed with siblings, you’ve got cousins and distant relatives around you as well. They have both good and bad intentions, some scheming on how to get closer to Kalim, and others scheming on how to get you to play hide and seek. Kalim is practically bouncing off the walls as he drags you down the halls on his grandiose tour. Laughing heartily over the feast his family calls dinner, then taking you on a breathtaking carpet ride above the Scalding Sands. Each day is a different adventure, and Kalim is the one leading you hand in hand into what awaits you both. Poor Jamil, Kalim only got ten times more impulsive as he tries to show you everything he loves (and buy you anything you eye for a second too long). Also…you are in a bit of danger being seen in public so close to Kalim and with how he shows how much he cares about you…
Vil Schoenheit
Do you think he’d let you stay at Night Raven College for months on end without supervision? You’re crazy. Just be prepared to be in a giant mansion alone for a bit. Vil goes without seeing his father for weeks on end, and he himself has a busy schedule. He’d love to take you with him, but unfortunately the media is as savage as a pack of wolves and would shred you apart without second thought. You didn’t mind too much, as long as you could get away from school for just a minute. With those warnings in mind, you were surprised to be greeted by servants taking your luggage to a spare room (right next to Vil’s) then being treated to a fantastic dinner with Eric, Vil’s father joining you two. Even Vil seemed surprised, asking his father about his latest movie. Eric only laughed, stating that he wanted to meet the person who caught his son's attention. You never felt too alone in the mansion, you’d get ready in the morning with Vil, seeing him off, doing your own thing for the day, and ending the night with a home prepared meal or going out to eat if Vil was feeling extra. On his days off, Vil would take you out, sometimes it would be to a spa, going shopping, or you forcing him to take a break and relax at home and watch some movies. You don’t think you could go back to that wack job of a school after getting a taste of luxury.
Idia Shroud
What. You want to go home with him? You do know where he lives right? You’d be totally isolated from all your other friends…you still want to come home with him? He supposes Ortho would be happy to have you around…fine, he just doesn’t like how excited his parents get when he asks for permission (after all he lives in a very secret location). He’s a bit overwhelmed at first, it seems like such an intimate scenario. You’re going to be living with him in the same house in a super secret base in the middle of nowhere. When you arrive, Idia tries not to shove you into his room and lock the door because his parents are non stop pestering you. Asking you about how you met Idia, how he was doing, and about you and your world. Thankfully for Idia, they had to rush back to work quickly, giving you a warm welcome and telling you to ask for anything if need be. To your surprise, Idia watched you like a hawk (and that’s the times you knew of). S.T.Y.X. was a dangerous place, and he’d be damned if he lost you like he lost Ortho. Be prepared to be trapped in a room lit with blue led lights and playing video games and watching anime until you feel your brain melting. Please bring some vitamin D…you’re not going to get enough sunlight. 
Malleus Draconia
Don’t worry child of man, he already has a room in his palace ready for you. Do you really think he was going to let you stay all alone (with Grim but okay) at Night Raven College? Of course not. You’re his precious child of man, he’ll make sure you get nothing but the best. Of course…he had to make sure his grandmother warmed up to you. You are a human after all, and she hasn’t had the best experience with them. Not to mention how his people will view him for bringing a commoner human into the castle and given the royal treatment. He doesn’t care. In fact, Malleus didn’t even think of such a thing, not until Sebek brought it up. When you arrived you felt overwhelmed as the servants bowed (you almost forgot that Malleus was standing next to you). He tried staying by your side for as long as he could, but as future king, he had many things to attend to. This left you on your own a bit, and you got acquainted with Maleficia. At first she terrified you, but over time you both warmed up to each other and Malleus found himself jealous with how much time you spent with her compared to him. All the while she found it amusing that her grandson was so hung up on a human…but she also found it heartbreaking. A fae falling for a human never had a happy ending, but she’s glad to know you’d take care of him well.
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mitskiluvr · 10 months
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soulmatism is phoenix only knowing miles for like 2 years in elementary school yet IMMEDIATELY knowing that something is horribly wrong when he sees miles in the newspaper years later being called a demon prosecutor
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piratefishmama · 3 months
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Just ONE chance
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Stephanie Harrington never intended to be a whole presence online.
She hadn’t even really understood the whole thing at first, it didn’t exist when she was a kid! An if it did it sure as hell wasn’t in every nook and cranny of the globe like it now seemed to be. Kids with iPads, hands glued to phones, six year olds who simply had to have the latest Apple thing.
It was all Dustin’s idea. King of the Gadget. Overseer of all things technology. Gargantuan nerd. Stevie’s little brother.
Not biologically, Claudia, Dustin’s mother had basically adopted Stevie when her own parents had tragically lost control of the wheel during a storm and wrapped their car around a tree back when Stevie was still a teenager. Back when Stevie was still Dustin’s regular babysitter and very suddenly found herself alone having been babysitting when the news reached her.
They’d been coming back from a business trip that she hadn’t been able to go with them on because of school. They’d been so close to home. She’d heard the sirens. They’d been that close.
It was fine though, in one fell swoop, yes she lost her parents, but she gained Claudia, and Dustin, and that was enough, because she sure as hell didn’t get anything else from them. It was all swallowed up, snatched away by her parents business partners because people are sharks and she just… wasn’t prepared to fight them on any of it, especially not when her parents had stupidly left her without a will.
Apparently they believed they’d live forever! The money vanished, the house was sold, she was left with nothing.
With growing up in the Henderson house, came choices, some great, some really stupid, and some that’d led to the very happy accident of Rosie.
To be fair to herself, she’d been in quite a long term relationship at that point! It was a happy one too! She’d thought he’d be it. Sure he’d been a lot rough around the edges, at the start, it’d been a shame cycle at the beginning since he was in fact, a colossal prick, but he was also the hottest guy she’d ever seen. Like, unfairly attractive considering his personality, and he knew exactly how to touch her to melt her icy resolve into a watery mess.
But once he’d gotten away from his dipshit of a father, his step mother dragging him with her when she escaped the man too, once Stevie had laid down the law of how little of the bullshit he’d learned from said father she’d personally tolerate before he’d get a boot out the door, he’d come around.
The racism had stopped immediately. The attitude had ebbed bit by bit as feelings set in, and he’d become a regular ol handsome teddy bear, he’d allowed himself to soften after he’d escaped the only reason he’d had to protect himself.
He’d even started getting along with his step sister, one of Dustin’s friends.
Then stupidity happened when they ran out of condoms, her cycles stopped, and three months in, two drunk idiots in a pickup ran a stoplight while he was getting her some ice cream. Doctors said he probably hadn’t felt a thing.
Rosie came along, a beautiful little thing, had her dad’s soft cheeks, his stormy eyes, thick dark lashes and soft curls, but she took after Stevie in everything else.
Stevie didn’t date after that. A personal choice really. She’d lost her parents, lost her love, and now she had a little girl to focus on, she was done. She felt herself complete! So what if she was still in her mid-twenties. Life had dealt her a hand, she was going to run with it.
Rosie would always come first, and she didn’t like explaining where Rosies father was, she didn’t like the look of pity on people’s faces, the apologies, the rinse and repeat cycle, and so she just. Didn’t bother!
It was easier! She had Rosie, she had her adoptive mother, she had Dustin, she had Billy’s sister Max and her other half Lucas, she had Susan, she had Robin, her co-worker and platonic soulmate from that dumb job at the mall she’d picked up to help Claudia with the bills, she had a whole support network, and she was fine.
Soon Rosie was in preschool, and then middle school, and the internet became a household thing, houses had computers, kids had phones, then smartphones, laptops, tablets, and suddenly the internet was everywhere and everyone had to be on it.
So there she was now. Mid-thirties, with a little girl, and a house paid for by her little brother.
Dustin had struck gold with a job at NASA, he’d put the downpayment on a little two bed house with a cute picket fence lined garden for her when Rosie was born without consulting her, just did it and “SURPRISE STEVIE, now get the hell out of mom’s basement, Jesus Christ.” Kept paying until it was all hers, and that was that… until he came round with computers and gadgets and then she had the internet because Rosie would need it for school because while libraries were awesome he’d had to suffer the five books at a time, Dustin rule one too many times and the internet had UNLIMITED books.
And now Stevie had a smart phone, and apps, and Instagram was fun! Doomscrolling the FYP took up chunks of her days off work while Rosie was at school! She never intended to be a name on there. She’d heard that people could become known for stuff, go viral or whatever.
She never intended to do that. She was a mother. Not even a hot young mom either. She was in her thirties! She remembered when the world didn’t have internet, she was there.
She posted work out videos, never having lost the competitive streak she’d always had as a teenager, sports were her thing back in high school, Gymnastics specifically, which led into cheering. She’d done some competition once with the team but nothing huge, she was fit, healthy, and the subject of many a thirst comment that she pointedly ignored.
She’d posted the occasional rant about Sally the PTA bitch with the self-proclaimed “best potato salad in the State” while doing her morning makeup, still never paying much mind to the comments section, the little rapidly climbing number that signalled followers, or the occasional DM from brands wanting to ‘collab’.
She didn’t care for that, she just wanted to post her little videos in peace. In retrospect, if peace was what she wanted, the lunch trend… probably wasn’t the best one to pick up. It was just a trend though! She’d seen a few moms doing it! Just posting little harmless videos online of what they’d pack their kids for lunch every day!
Harmless, fun! She loved making Rosies lunches, she saw no harm in sharing the fun!
They were always affordable, packed with healthy options, and creative too! She tried her hand at sushi, Rosie hated it, Robin loved it, so Robin got the sushi rolls in her lunches instead, picked up every morning when she grabbed Rosie on the way into work, they were both going to the same place after all, Robin taking on the music teacher role at the Middle school Rosie attended.
She tried noodle jars, cool wraps, made shapes and fun little animals out of fruit, she got creative, but they were all very cookie cutter videos, they all had the same vibe, similar content, it was something to fill her free time that she enjoyed so never in a million years would she have ever predicted that ONE of them, would cause so much chaos.
It started with the beeping.
The incessant pings sometime in the early hours of the morning. Notifications on her phone going off one after the other until she was forced to sit up, bleary eyed, and stare with squinted eyes at the far too bright screen of her phone, then she silenced it and went back to sleep.
With the chaos of the morning routines, getting Rosie up, washed, dressed, packed up for school, and out the door, she didn’t think about the incessant little beeping she’d silenced. It was a distant memory buried under the fog of a heavy sleep and continued to be a distant memory right up until Dustin appeared at her doorstep at around one in the afternoon midway through her afternoon workout, ruffled, stressed, flustered, and frankly just a little too sweaty.
He bypassed all niceties, as usual, bulldozing straight to the point, he pinpointed her phone, which sat comfortably on the countertop, seemingly oh so innocent, grabbed it, brandished it up as if to highlight its very existence and just “Woman, do you LOOK, AT YOUR PHONE?!”
Now, Stevie was not in the business of accepting a tone like that, especially not from her little brother. No matter how much he’d shelled out for the house, the attitude had to go. “Tone problem you little shit, fix it now or get the fuck out of this house and try again later.”
To his credit, he took a breath, and fixed it “Sorry, I’m sorry, but—look! Look at it, please, for the love of Christ, the internet is freaking out.”
“What?”
“Your video yesterday! The one with the like… teddy bear thing you did? With the rice an the—”
“Rosies lunch?”
“Yeah! Have you seen the comments on it?” Stevie rolled her eyes and went about picking up her things, workout sufficiently disrupted, she wouldn’t be able to pick that pace back up now. “Stevie?”
“You know I don’t look at those, people get weird on the internet, it’s like it gives weirdos the perfect place to be their weirdest selves and not in a good way.” She’d looked at them once, curiosity had gotten the better of her once upon a time and wound up having to ask Max what ‘OF?’ meant. She’d taken the win, let it momentarily boost her self-confidence, and decided to never look again. She was done with all that.
“Stevie, this time… one of those weirdos, is famous.” Since it was the age of the internet, Stevie regarded him with a look of disinterest, ‘famous��� could be anything, it could be some dweeb behind a computer screaming obscenities at a mic hooked up to some ridiculously overpriced gaming PC for likes. It could be a podcast bro with half a brain cell kicking its long since dead other half, it could be—“rockstar famous.” Dustin clarified. “One of the guys from that band I like? Corroded Coffin, they just—” he swiped the phone, letting out a soft scoff as the screen just flicked to life, no security pin to be seen of course, no matter, he’d probably berate later, he had a video to find and—“Ah-hah! Look!” and a phone to once again shove into his big sister’s face.
“That’s not even my video!”
“I know! They took the comment down already, but it’s EVERYWHERE, look!” Someone had screenshots. It wasn’t just one video covering it, Dustin scrolled, another popped up soon after, someone getting a little too excited about what was probably the most unfortunate of accidents.
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“Don’t they have like… I dunno, people running their accounts? A person? Maybe their internet person just forgot to log out of that account?”
“No! Eddie runs it! The guitarist? Eddie Munson, he usually runs it all himself so everyone thinks it’s him, AND—AND LOOK!” Dustin clicked on the Corroded Coffin’s account, then tapped on the most recent post. Just a big black square, with the word ‘Whoops’ in big bold white lettering, captioned ‘I regret nothing. Just ONE chance, sweetheart, just one.’ With a little prayer hands emoji. “He’s ASKING you out!”
“He’s being a freak on the internet” hands found her hips, the classic mom pose. Immovable, stubborn.
“He’s always a freak! But he’s really cool! He does like, Make A Wish stuff, and—and visits children’s hospitals dressed up like fantasy characters, and he runs DnD things on the account every few months an he’s just REALLY cool, I mean they’re all really cool but Eddie is really cool maybe—maybe you could—”
“Upend my life, Rosie’s life, for a guy I don’t know, who has a job that takes him all over the world, who probably has his pick of whoever the hell he wants so what exactly could I bring to the table to keep him around? I’m done with all that shit, Dusty… I had my time, I have Rosie, I have everything I need. What makes you think I’d even like him?”
“You liked Billy.”
“Get out.”
“No, wait, not like that, I mean, they’re the same! Well, okay, not the same, Eddie didn’t start out a giant prick an he’s never been racist, but they’re sorta similar, similar music tastes, shit fathers, he’s rough round the edges, lil scary looking sometimes but he’s just a big softie when you get past the whole, scary dog thing. Eddie’s like… if Billy never had a shit dad. I just think that maybe… if you looked him up, maybe you’d… I dunno, you’d like him… maybe he’d be your kind of guy… maybe you could finally find someone who appreciates you… you’re not supposed to be on your own, Stevie.”
“Yeah well, I’m not. I have Rosie, and Robin, an you guys… an y’know. Bob.”
“Bob?” One of her patented looks told him all he needed to know, he jerked back in revulsion “ew! God! Fine, could you just! I dunno, look him up or something? Just think about it, I swear he’s really cool an I’d—”
“You’d love free tickets to their next concert.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Alright then, nice to see you Dustin. Always a pleasure to have you round, please get the hell out of my house.” 
“UggGGGGGHHHHH, STEVIIIIEEE!!!”
“Uggghh, DUSTIIIIN! You interrupted my work out for internet pervert nonsense.” She began shooing him toward the door “Shoo, shoo. I have a family sized bar of chocolate to work off my hips before it gets stuck there.”
“He’d love your hips! With the addition of chocolate bars or not!”
“Weird! Out!” Out the door he went, it closed behind him.
That of course didn’t stop him from yelling through the door, “Just look him up!! I promise you won’t regret it!” But she mostly ignored him, until he went away.
Mostly because… Dustin never spoke up in favour of men before. He’d even gone through a period of hinting at maybe just switching sides and dating Robin when he found out Robin was a lesbian, but both women had promptly shut that down every single time he tried bringing it up.
He wasn’t a huge fan of men.
He’d been raised by a strong independent woman, he’d had a strong female role model in Stevie who’d pushed through every trauma life had thrown at her, he had Robin, he had Max, Jane, Erica, he had Nancy his friend Mike’s older sister, one of his friends had also been raised by a strong independent woman, he’d been surrounded by strong women his entire life with only one real solid male figure.
And that was his middle school science teacher, Scott Clarke. Which was kind of sad when you thought about it.
For him to really vouch for a man, it meant something! It wasn’t something to ignore, even if every instinct Stevie had told her to just. Leave it. What kind of man could a rockstar lifestyle have created. What kind of red flags could Eddie Munson be hiding that Dustin couldn’t (or didn’t want to) see.
Did he really even mean it?
Was it actually Eddie, and not someone else from the band? Would she be seen as foolish for even entertaining the thought? It wasn’t like she’d ever paid attention to the bands Dustin liked, so surely nobody would see her as a weird fan for thinking about it, right? She didn’t even approach him!
He approached her!
Shit like that didn’t just happen though. Or did it? Could it? Was she stupid to even entertain the thought?
Before she knew it, it was time to pick Rosie up, and she hadn’t even finished her work out. it was fine, her hips could handle a chocolate bar. For now. Its days were numbered.
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1d1195 · 10 months
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Dolcezza I
You know me and my need for love at first sight.
This is where I’ll keep her: Dolcezza
Warnings: mostly fluff, mentions of stalking
~5.5k words
Definitely multi-part. This part is mostly from the MC perspective. The very end peeks into Harry's brain and the second part will likely pick up more onto his POV.
Hope you enjoy!
“You really don’t need to trouble yourself,” she promised.
Harry turned pausing by the shelf pressed against the wall. “D’you really want me t’leave?” He asked with a frown. “M’sorry. I jus’... really want t’help you, kitten,” he explained. “S’like I need to. S’almost... compulsive... but I’ll leave if y’want me to.”
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“No, I’m totally fine, thank you,” she said into her phone.
“Are you sure?” Eleanor asked. “I can send Louis over.”
“No, no, that’s so unnecessary, El. Really. I’ll be fine.”
She could hear her best friend sigh heavily into the speaker. Eleanor was nearly a thousand miles away. She got a new job and while the benefits and everything about it were great, and would make Eleanor wildly successful, she was sadly away from her platonic soulmate. It was extremely hard to let her go. Worse, Louis would be joining her just as soon as he nailed down a new job out there.
But Louis was around for now, which was a great relief for Eleanor. Her best friend was a lot of things, but aware of how scary her situation wasn’t one of them. Louis knew he was essentially filling as best friend for the time being and he was expected to drop everything to get to her aid if Eleanor said so.
But that would only last so long.
Eleanor didn’t want to think about that right now.
She was carrying a box from her car toward the building. Her shoulder pressing her phone to her ear as best she could. Beside the building was a small little alley where her entry way to her new place resided. As much as it killed her to pay for it, she got a whole moving company to bring her furniture in already so at the rest was pretty standard. Her family, God love them, didn’t even think that she might need some help. If anything, she would have had to bribe them into helping her. Even if it was just for the furniture. If Eleanor was in town she would have helped with the boxes and other stray things she had heaped in her car.
Even with Eleanor’s presence closer, she felt alone. Eleanor had Louis and she would never fault her for that. Louis was everything she would want in a best-friend-in-law. But there was always this element of not fully having Eleanor—not like when they were in college and sharing a dorm room. It was different now. Not bad, but different. Her family was great but a little self-centered at times. Part of the problem, she dropped everything to help them whenever they asked but they rarely returned the favor. She did it all, so why would she need help?
Fortunately, moving allowed her to downsize quite a bit so her mid-sized SUV was able to hold almost all of her boxes in one trip from her storage unit to the new place. Maybe, this even helped her explain away her family’s lack of help.
But her brother was either busy working at the college dispatch center most of the weekend or playing beer pong at a frat party. Her sister was so wrapped up in her high school love life or maybe just being the princess her mom and dad made her out to be by never making her do anything of importance. Her parents were probably waiting on her hand and foot without even realizing. If not, they were probably creating some sort of computer-virus havoc on their home computer that for some reason her sister wouldn’t be able to fix. Or maybe they finally started fixing the kitchen up as they said they would for the last year waiting for their oldest to come home and fix all the little things they broke in the process.
If she thought about it too long, she would get annoyed. Her brother and sister were more than capable of helping and they just didn’t. It drove her nuts. So, at the end of it, she couldn’t bother her family for help. Because it barely felt like they could help themselves.
She was lucky because the alleyway wasn’t creepy. Not even at night. The whole street was a dream come true really. Part of her thought that despite the circumstance, this was actually a much-needed move. It was almost lucky that she found such an amazing place. Her own parking space right out front of the building, a coffee shop—a mere stone’s throw from said parking space—almost everything she needed was within walking distance. It was perfect.
Of course, the best and most wonderful selling point of all was by far that her new apartment was right above an Italian restaurant. It smelled like fresh pasta, garlic, and just the most comforting of scents. It reminded her of Sunday’s making meatballs with her dad and watching sports with her brother and sister.
When her coworker Mitch told her about the place, she thought it was too good to be true. But Mitch knew someone who worked at the restaurant. The owner, Antonio, was looking for a tenant after he informed Mitch’s friend that he was outgrowing the space. It was a generous size. But it was meant for a place to stay and keep watch over the restaurant—max two people and that was pushing it. The little place could not support Antonio, his wife, their first born, and another little one on the way. Four people was too big for this place.
But it was perfect for a girl who loved garlic bread and spaghetti who needed a new place and wouldn’t mind the smell of olive oil all hours of the day.
“How did you find this place?” Eleanor asked, her third-degree questioning tone was present in her voice.
“A friend of a coworker,” Eleanor already knew this.
“Mitch?” She clarified.
“Yes, Mom, Mitch,” she rolled her eyes.
“I don’t know how you can be so blasé about all this. It’s serious!” She reminded her. “I’m not even there to protect you.”
She didn’t need to be protected. She had a restraining order. The police in the area were well aware of the situation and she was almost always at home or traveling one day a week to work. If she ran errands, it was always in public spaces. She only ever worked out at a public female-only gym. Plus, she had given Louis her location. All of it was nearly a non-issue. “I don’t even know how I got a stalker,” she muttered grumpily. The whole thing was an inconvenience. If it wasn’t for Eleanor, she probably wouldn’t have even gotten the restraining order.
“You’re too nice,” Eleanor reminded her.
She sighed, tired of the story. It had been almost a year since the creepy sensation of the guy following her had started. Eleanor had approached him on more than one occasion to get rid of him. But the whole thing seemed like a bigger deal than it needed to be. The guy was basically harmless; if not just a little bit more on the creepy side. He couldn’t take the hint that she wasn’t interested and had a hard time letting go. He kept a huge distance from her—she wasn’t even sure she knew the color of his eyes from how far away he followed her. If he was around, she hardly noticed. “Well, I’m moving to a whole new place now so it should be fine now.”
“You didn’t tell anyone else about your address change?”
“Nope, just HR,” she promised. “As far as everyone knows I’m still living in that crummy apartment.”
“Well, maybe this is a blessing that you’re out of there anyway,” Eleanor sighed, relief in her voice. “How do you like this place?”
She smiled dropping the box in the middle of the room before she closed the door and descended the staircase back to her car to grab more boxes. “El, it’s literally perfect. It’s like the apartment of my dreams.”
“How come no one at the restaurant wanted it?”
“When you come visit, we can go and ask all the questions—”
As she entered the alleyway from her apartment entrance she was pushed to the ground. The rattling of glass bottles clinked, clattered, and broke on the pavement. She already felt the bruise forming on her tailbone from landing so hard on the ground. In the process she dropped her phone, and she could hear Eleanor shouting from the speaker. “Ouch,” she muttered.
“Don’t move!” She turned to the sound of the guy in the alleyway with her—he was hurrying to his feet having also toppled to the cold, hard ground. He was wearing all black. Short sleeves even though it was a chillier fall day—showing off an array of tattoos that lined his muscular arms. His black pants had fingerprints and handprints of flour on them. There was something dark colored—probably tomato sauce—dried on the half apron around his hips. He clearly worked in the restaurant. The bag of bottles he was previously carrying ripped open and was broken on the ground. “M’so sorry, Principessa,” his voice was smooth and warm. “Antonio told me y’were moving in today. Should’ve been more careful,” he frowned grabbing her wrists without a thought and hauling her to her feet to get her off the cold ground and away from any broken glass. “M’so sorry,” he repeated making sure she was steadily on her feet. He turned her hands over inspecting them so delicately. Like she was the glass that had broken at their feet. “Are y’alright, Principessa?”
The silence coming from Eleanor on her phone was nearly deafening. She blinked a few times as she gazed at the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life. His hair was the color of melted milk chocolate and looked like it had been sculpted of the very substance into the most unfairly beautiful curls any man should have been allowed to have. His cheeks were smooth except for the stubble lining his incredibly sharp jawline. His lower lip was chapped, and she realized how close she was to face to notice such a thing. Probably from the way he was biting it with the worry that he had hurt her. But they were still very rosy—like pink wine and much like the rest of him, very, very pretty.
He picked up her phone out of the debris. Wiping it on his apron then brought it to his ear. “Hello?”
“Oh, God,” she whispered to herself, trying to process the last two minutes. Eleanor was going to lose her mind.
“Uh... m’Harry... She’s fine—I think... Are y’okay, Principessa?” His gaze turned back to her.
It felt like her heart stopped as her eyes connected with the beautiful green ones looking back at her. It was unfair someone like Harry was that pretty.
She nodded, holding her hand out for her phone. He returned it to her immediately and she cleared her throat. “I’m fine, El. Promise.”
“Principessa?!” She gasped. “Oh. My. God.”
“I’ll call you later,” she whispered feeling her face warm as Harry inspected the mess.
“M’sorry, Principessa,” he repeated for a fourth time. If he called her Principessa again though, she might fall right back on her sore tailbone. “Wasn’t expecting you t’come out the door,” he frowned. “Did y’get cut at all?” He asked, scanning her quickly from head to toe. She was dressed for moving on a cool fall day. A chunky sweatshirt, a pair of joggers, and trainers. Her hair was pulled tight to keep out of her face.
She was the furthest thing from looking like the princess that he kept calling her. “Oh...no... I’m alright,” she promised. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
“Don’t apologize, kitten, s’entirely my fault.”
She shook her head rapidly trying to get some neural networks firing. “Really, I’m okay,” she smiled gently. “I should have watched—”
“M’serious, s’my fault,” he interrupted again.
“Harry, what’s the hold—” Antonio entered the alleyway but stopped his train of thought looking at the pair of them. “Oh, hi, tesorino,” he had called her that a lot since he spoke and met with her. “See you’ve met Harry,” he looked at the broken bag and the glass. “Did he hurt you?” He asked.
“No!” Harry glared at him, a frown adorning his pretty lips and a matching pinch between his brows. Harry looked adorable when he was angry. “I didn’t Principessa, did I?” He turned back to her looking apologetic again.
“No, I’m sincerely fine,” she promised shoving her phone into the pocket of her joggers. “I should have watched where I was—”
“No, no, tesorino,” Antonio shook his head. “It’s Harry’s fault. M’sure.” What kind of reality was this? Antonio reminded her of Louis or a much older brother—maybe even a young dad, but not like her dad. She imagined Louis saying the same kind of taunting thing to Eleanor or even herself. It was surreal. A cute guy bumped into her when she was starting fresh. It was like fate—a new start and a new guy. “I’ll get you a broom, Harry. Make sure she’s alright.”
“Yes sir,” he nodded firmly. Antonio disappeared back to the restaurant to get the broom.
“I’m really fine,” she promised.
Harry was smiling now, he bent down to get the big pieces of glass that shattered and carefully placed them on the broken plastic bag. “M’glad, Principessa,” he hummed quietly.
“Uh...” she smiled awkwardly and stepped to the side. “I should get out of the way...” she trailed off and started for the street to gather more of her stuff.
“Here,” Antonio reappeared with a broom and a new bag, passing it off to Harry. “Tesorino, are you sure you’re alright?” Antonio had an Italian accent. It made her smile and even if she was hurt, she was sure that she wouldn’t—couldn’t feel any pain because it was so comfortable being around an Italian restaurant where people worried about her.
“I’m really, truly fine,” she promised.
Harry was quick to pick up all the glass and took a few steps around the area to catch any of the broken pieces. It seemed this wasn’t the first time this had happened. It was like she was glued to her spot watching Harry take the collected glass down the alleyway to one of the dumpsters. “Do you need help moving your stuff upstairs?” Antonio asked.
“Oh no, that’s alright, I’m fine—”
“Harry, help her with her stuff,” he ordered, ignoring her brush-off. “Her car is out front.”
Harry handed the broom back to his boss and hurried to the front of the building. “Hey!” She frowned and looked at Antonio. “I don’t need help—”
“Tesorino, please. S’no big deal. Harry would be happy to help.” Harry was already coming back with what she knew was a heavy box labeled ‘kitchen’ and heading for the stairs. Truthfully, she was dreading carrying that one, so she was grateful Harry was literally doing the heavy lifting for her but didn’t want him to feel like he had to. “He helped us move our stuff out already and into our new home,” he shrugged. “Come down for some lasagna for dinner,” he said heading back toward the front.
The entire interaction had left her so completely confused. Harry was beautiful and clearly a cook of some sort in the kitchen of the restaurant. Currently, he was up in her new apartment putting her box in the kitchen. Right as she came to the door to head after him, he bumped into her again, reappearing from the door so quickly, she almost fell right back to the ground. This time, Harry caught her around the waist. “M’sorry, Principessa. I don’t know why I keep getting in y’way,” he frowned.
He released her waist just as quickly as he caught her before heading back for her car. The warmth of his arm around her body lingered as she followed him. “You don’t have to help.”
“S’no problem, kitten,” he shrugged grabbing a box labeled ‘bedroom’ that she knew had an array of random things including an assortment of old CDs, a few pictures, and everything from her nightstand—including a box of condoms. Just the knowledge of knowing he was carrying them was enough to make her face warm. She frowned, hurrying to grab a box herself. “Y’don’t have any friends t’help you?” He asked over his shoulder as he made himself at home coming to stop in front of the second door in the little hall at the top of the steps. Beside her apartment was a second office for the restaurant. Antonio assured her that he was the only person who used it and at this point in time, it was mostly storage. Either way, she didn’t mind. The place was a steal and beyond helpful for her new start. Especially with Eleanor breathing down her neck worrying about her.
“I don’t like to bother people with something I can do myself,” she explained quietly while pushing the door out of the way for Harry to enter—but he waited for her to go first. A silent direction in his eyes as he stood still with the box in his hands. After an awkward pause, she went in first.
Unfortunately, she was compelled to fill the silence with more explanation. “My best friend got a new job—so she’s unavailable. She offered her boyfriend but he’s working. My other friends... no one wants to help move. You know?” She explained. But it was hard to hide the catch in her throat while she spoke. No one wanted to help her.
It was weird to have a conversation with Harry like that. It was a little personal, nothing crazy. But apparently, it divulged enough. “S’unfair, Principessa,” his voice was so gentle. “M’sure you’d help if they asked—or even if they didn’t ask.”
How on earth could some stranger possibly know that about her without so much as speaking for more than ten full minutes? There was a jolt of sadness that washed through her. But she pushed it aside and frowned at the stranger who seemed to read right through her without so much as a second glance. “They would help if I asked,” she murmured. But it felt like sand in her mouth as she said it because she knew it was a lie.
Harry didn’t harp on it though. He glanced around the empty space. “Are y’new to the city?” He asked.
“No... not really,” she shrugged. “I used to live just a couple towns over.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “D’you have a lot more?” He asked.
She shook her head. “No, not really. You... you grabbed the heavy kitchen one. So, it should be easy from here on out.”
“Great,” he smiled. “I’ll get Niall, we’ll be done in half an hour.” Harry left her breathless for more than one reason. He hurried back down and stopped outside of the restaurant. She was practically running to catch up.
Dolcezza was written in cursive script above the big window showcasing the beautiful restaurant. Most Italian restaurants always seemed so darkly lit. This one looked so warm and cozy and on the brighter side. It reminded her of her grandparents’ house.
Harry pulled the door open. “Niall!” He shouted. Without waiting for whoever Niall was, Harry turned to her car to grab the next box.
Niall was a little less than half a foot shorter than Harry. His eyes were the color of the sky in the middle of June, and he had an adorable smile. “What’re you doing?” He asked Harry as he walked by with a box. “Hey tesorino,” he winked at her.
“Grab a box,” Harry nodded his head toward the open car and continued for her apartment once more.
What the heck!?
She stumbled to get a box herself and hurried to follow the two guys moving her stuff into her new place. But she had to give credit where credit was due. Harry was right. Thirty minutes, and everything in her car was now in the apartment. Niall headed back to the restaurant without a word, but Harry stayed behind. “D’you need help with anything, kitten?” He asked sweetly.
She couldn’t possibly imagine him helping her more than he already had. “N-no, thank you. That was...really helpful. I can take it from here.”
“Jus’ come grab me from downstairs if y’do think of something, kitten. Antonio won’t mind,” he promised. He smiled at her once more and looked around. His gaze stopped on the tall bookshelf. He walked toward it and looked at each side. He pulled a little bag of screws that were taped to the side and put it in plain view. “Make sure y’anchor that bookshelf before putting books on it. Don’t want it falling on you,” he mentioned kindly. She frowned. In her old place, her bookshelf was recessed into the wall. Having built the new shelf so the movers could take it the other day, she truly hadn’t thought about it. She only taped the little bag to the inside of the shelf so she knew what it belonged to when she created a junk drawer in the kitchen.
“Er... right,” she nodded—unconfidently.
Harry looked her over again, sizing her up, as if he knew she didn’t know how to do that and was too proud to ask. “I’ll come back up before dinner t’do it. D’you have a screw gun and such?”
“I can Google how to do it if I need to,” she assured him knowing that if he didn’t say anything, she wouldn’t do it. “I doubt I can put holes in the wall like that.”
Harry snorted. “Don’t worry, Principessa, I’ll tell Antonio. He won’t argue.”
“It’s really—”
“M’offering myself, kitten. S’nothing t’worry ‘bout. M’happy t’help. S’no trouble at all.”
It was jarring. That was the only way to describe it. It was as if Harry could read her thoughts and see on her face that she didn’t want to trouble someone on her behalf. “Antonio s’not kidding ‘bout lasagna either, Principessa. He’ll want y’down between five-thirty and six. Come down t’eat or he’ll make me come up here t’get you.”
*
“Who was that?” Eleanor asked in greeting as she answered the phone.
“Hi Eleanor, the move has been going well. I’m about to start unpacking boxes and arranging everything. How has your day been?” She answered with an eye roll.
“Shut up, tell me about the guy, principessa,” her voice was nearly hysterical. Her tone was almost mocking with the nickname Harry had bestowed upon her. It made her stomach flip to hear even Eleanor say it.
Sighing, she put her head on the counter of her new kitchen. She eyed the heavy box Harry had put there on the floor. “His name is Harry. He works at the restaurant,” she explained. “Antonio had him help me with all the boxes and stuff, his friend Niall too.”
“I don’t care about that. What does he look like?!” The pause was telling. She knew it. “Wow,” Eleanor sighed. “He is so hot, you’re speechless.”
Rolling her eyes again, she was glad Eleanor couldn’t see her cheeks burning red at the correct assumption. “He’s cute,” she managed.
“Oh puh-lease,” she gasped. “What a cute little story you’ll be able to tell your grandchildren.”
“Can you relax? I talked to him for twenty minutes and mostly about moving.”
“Mostly?!”
“Sweet Jesus,” she sighed pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes trying to think of the fastest way to get rid of her friend from making her crazy. “He correctly identified that I have shitty friends who wouldn’t help me move even if I had asked. He also got his friend Niall to help with the boxes in my car. And when I came back from the storage unit with a second load, they ran out in the middle of a lunch rush to help anyway.”
“You could sell movie rights,” Eleanor sighed dreamily.
She rolled her eyes. “His boss made him help.”
“His boss made him call you principessa too?”
“He called me kitten too.”
“Oh, you’re so going to marry him.”
“I have to unpack my house now.”
“What does he smell like?”
“You are insane.”
There was a knock on her door.
“Wonder who that is,” Eleanor practically sang. She glanced at the stove clock. It wasn’t even five o’clock. Not time to head down for lasagna. After the crazy afternoon she had, she wanted to make sure she didn’t give a reason to the funny cooks and owner downstairs that were helping her a reason to waste their time with her. She truly planned to head down for lasagna as they asked. But part of her thought Harry was joking about the bookshelf.
With the phone still against her ear, she pulled the door out of the way and found Harry. He was not joking. There was a screw gun at his side. “Hi Principessa,” he grinned so brightly it made a dimple in both cheeks appear. “M’gonna anchor y’bookshelf and then take y’down t’get lasagna,” he maneuvered right by her without so much as an okay.
“You really don’t need to trouble yourself,” she promised.
Harry turned pausing by the shelf pressed against the wall. “D’you really want me t’leave?” He asked with a frown. “M’sorry. I jus’... really want t’help you, kitten,” he explained. “S’like I need to. S’almost... compulsive... but I’ll leave if y’want me to.”
“Don’t you dare let him leave,” Eleanor said to her ear, her voice was practically a sigh. She and Harry stood feet apart gazing at one another.
But it felt so bad getting help from Harry. “Well...er... if you’re really sure it’s not a bother,” she murmured.
“Not at all, Principessa,” he smiled. “Promise,” he nodded. “S’jus’ a couple minutes and then I’ll bring y’down.”
“Eleanor, I gotta go.”
“I can’t wait to give my maid of honor speech at your wedding.”
She hung up on her friend. Harry was quick. He was shifting the bookshelf away from the wall. He snagged the little package of screws taped to the side. “Can I help?” She asked tossing her phone on the couch.
“I think m’alright, principessa. Thank you,” he said kindly, like he wasn’t doing her a favor by doing this. It was quiet while he worked. At one point he did drop one of the little screws and she was quick to grab it and place it in his hand for him. “Thanks, kitten,” he hummed quietly. His expression was so concentrated as he fixed up the shelf.
It wasn’t much, honestly. She knew that. It was just a bookshelf. But it was somehow so much more. Her heart felt so out of place. Her throat felt tight with emotion bubbling to the surface. No one had ever done anything like this before. A near stranger at that. Probably because it was so much more. It was a worry about her safety which people nearly forgot—unless they were Eleanor and by extension Louis.
She turned away briefly and busied herself with pulling throw pillows from the box labeled living room. Harry hummed quietly to himself. It was soothing. For a moment she forgot about who she was and that she had moved because she had a stalker. If she was a little more vulnerable feeling, she might have cried. It wasn’t the time, but she felt like she had known Harry her whole life. But she had barely spoken more than a hundred and fifty words to him. It was feeling extremely domestic in her new place even though hardly anything was unpacked.
The whole place was one wide open room kitchen and living area. There was a little space she designated for a table for sitting at and along the front wall by the window she planned on putting her desk. There was so much she needed to do. There were three doors along the back wall of the apartment. A bathroom, a bedroom, and a little alcove where a washer and dryer resided. She was lucky the owner lived here previously as she was certain there wouldn’t be a washer and dryer otherwise and that may have deterred her from taking the place. The idea of lugging her laundry up and down the stairs to a laundromat was not something she wanted to do in her late twenties.
“Oh crap,” she frowned. Realizing her state of being at the thought of walking up and down the steps all day.
Harry paused and turned to her. “Y’okay, principessa?” He frowned as well. His eyes looked her over with worry.
“Yeah...no, I just... I have to change before I head down there,” she sighed.
Harry smiled and turned back to his task. He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Oh, y’could go like that, I think y’look beautiful,” he said sweetly.
Her heart rate took off rapidly. She could feel her cheeks warming but she knew her hair was pulled back and little pieces had frizzed and fallen from the elastic. She knew she was sweaty and there was simply no way she looked beautiful.
She snorted awkwardly. “Uh...thank you,” she cleared her throat. “But I would feel better if I changed.”
“I’ll wait outside, then,” he promised. “Jus’ finishing this last bit,” he murmured his attention focused on securing the screws perfectly.
“I’ll be quick,” she promised.
“Take y’time, principessa. M’in no rush,” he stood after finishing the final bit. He stepped back outside the apartment. God, he was nice. It had to be the fastest time she had ever gotten ready for anything. Changing out of comfy clothes and into jeans and a blouse that she would wear to her team meetings, so it didn’t look like she was wearing pajamas to work. She slipped on a pair of the first presentable ankle boots she could find a pair of in the box of shoes that was still unpacked. After she found a clip to pull her hair back in a more presentable fashion.
“Oh, wow,” Harry smiled dreamily as she stepped into the hall and locked her door. “Didn’t know y’could get any more beautiful. In less than five minutes too. M’gonna faint when y’have more than a minute,” he smiled and headed down the stairs as if he hadn’t just stolen her heart.
She was a little surprised he went down the stairs first, but she was grateful because maybe he wouldn’t be able to tell she was shaky and gripping the railing to keep her upright after Harry’s sweet compliment. But she realized it was merely so he could open the door carefully and make sure she wouldn’t bump into someone in the alleyway. Once he decided the alleyway was cleared, he gestured for her to exit first. “Thank you,” she said sincerely.
“For what, kitten?” He smiled as he closed the door behind him.
“Being helpful and nice. I... I’m not really used to that,” she admitted.
The grin on his face was kind. He shoved his freehand in his pocket and shrugged. “Happy t’help y’principessa,” he winked and headed for Dolcezza, surely to open the door for her first.
“Why did he name it Dolcezza?” She asked following behind him.
Harry smiled and glanced over his shoulder to wink at the pretty girl. “It means sweetness. Antonio met his wife when he was studying business, called her la mia dolcezza. He always wanted t’own a restaurant but never knew what t’name it. He knew the second he met her,” he shrugged. “S’a cute story.”
“Very sweet,” she smiled as she walked by Harry to enter the warm and homey restaurant. She was correct in her assumption that he would hold the door open for her. He chuckled at her joke.
There was something about the girl he literally bumped into and proceeded to fall for instantly physically and emotionally. He wasn’t lying when he said it was compulsive to help her. The warmth he felt inspecting her hands for injury and the worry he felt when she didn’t seem sure of anchoring her bookshelf. The thought that she was just above the restaurant that he nearly lived at more than his own place was comforting. A tug on his heart he didn’t know where it came from but couldn’t help it. Harry had never felt such an emotion like this for someone he had just met. It was like he had known her his whole life and he hadn’t spent more than an hour in total speaking to her. But he wanted to spend forever talking to her now that he had a glimpse of someone so beautiful and gentle.
It took every bit of inner strength for Harry to refrain from telling her he would name every child, every restaurant, anything he could name, he would dedicate to her.
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dottores · 1 year
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HELIOTROPES
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pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments
summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.
genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.
warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, theta hurts reader but only a little, this was not edited sorry for mistakes 😭
notes: alrighty guys, this is officially the last chapter of the regular schedule—after this one, updates are going to be sporadic but they will at the very least be monthly. wish i could keep up the schedule but its not going to be feasible considering i start law school this upcoming wednesday </3 i'll update the masterlist to reflect the change too
SPIT IN MY FACE
“Excuse me?”
The masked man—had Gamma called him Theta?—kept a tight grip on your wrist, holding it up in front of you so he could look at it himself. He was stronger than he looked, you tried to rip your wrist out of his hold but failed. His nails dug into your skin in response to the attempt, drawing blood. You grimaced as you watched a thin line of red seep down your forearm. 
“You heard me.” Theta’s smile didn’t budge as his other hand came up to grab your chin, turning your head away from where Kappa was still buried in the crook of your neck to face him. “Was he trying to keep you hidden away or were you trying to hide from us?”
He wasn’t looking at your hand. He was looking at your finger or more specifically… where your thread was hanging from it, leading off somewhere to the left of you wherever Dottore was. You remembered how Kappa had looked down at your hand curiously before deciding to come over to you, the way he was so at ease with you for no reason. And Gamma. Gamma had looked at your hand before he started panicking and ran off.
Could they… see it?
“Hm?” Theta’s nails dug into your cheeks now, just like how he had with the aristocrat—you didn’t even know where they went, if they had taken the opportunity to flee or if he had done something to immobilize them, you couldn’t turn your head to check. You grimaced as you felt his nails break skin again. “Answer me.”
How was that possible?
You could all but taste the poison in his words, the impatience and the frustration. You were at a loss as to how to proceed—your arms were tied up with Kappa, one of your hands was stuck in his and he was forcing you to look at him, and that unhinged look in his red eyes was causing your brain to fog with fear.
Think. You had to think. You had to free your wrist from his hand. You had to get back to your room, or to Pantalone’s. 
Where was Pantalone? Livid, you realized that the man was probably still listening in on the show, not getting involved, leaving you to deal with this unstable bastard. 
Think. What did he want to hear? What would make him settle down at least enough to loosen his grip on you?
But how the hell were you supposed to know what he wanted you to hear? Even with just the way he spat out those two questions, you knew both answers were wrong and would set him off more. But you had to say something, the longer you went without answering his question, the more his eyes flamed with impatience—you didn’t want to know what would happen when that thin thread of patience snapped.
“I came here, didn’t I?” you asked quietly. You tried to relax your shoulders and upper body, exuding a type of faux-comfort with the man. “I came looking for you.”
Theta’s red eyes narrowed with suspicion, watching you carefully—his grip did not waver, much to your distress. 
“You don’t even know who I am,” he said coldly, speaking the one truth you’d hoped he wouldn’t. His grip on your wrist tightened and his nails dug deeper into your cheeks. “I hate liars.”
“I’m not lying,” you told him, grimacing as his nail dragged against your skin. Kappa shifted in your arms, bristling, you couldn’t tell if he was watching or not. “You can see the thread, no? I may not fully understand how you can see it but the fact that you can speaks enough.”
Theta hesitated, the corner of his lip dipping in doubt as he tried to decide whether or not he thought you were lying. You watched with bated breath, tongue kissing the inside of your teeth, as a flurry of emotions rushed through his eyes ranging from anger to hesitancy and hope. Then his eyes hardened, decision made, and your heart sunk to your stomach.
“Liar.”
Again, his grip tightened but it was painful now and your body begged you to pull away or do something but he was stronger than you. He forced you closer to him, turning you so that if Kappa wasn’t between you, you would’ve been chest-to-chest with him. You wondered if you should let him go, let him flee somewhere safe, but he was still clutching your shirt.
Theta leaned in close, you could feel his breath hot against your cheek and the cool ceramic of his mask nudging against your skin where his nose would have been. You grit your teeth together as you felt something warm and wet press against the skin of your cheek where his nails had broken through, lapping at the blood.
Your face felt hot, anger and humiliation curdling your blood as Theta let out a puff of amused laughter against your skin.
“You taste like a liar too,” Theta crooned. “Lambda thinks you’re a fake sent to distract us. Are you a fake, little liar?”
Us. He kept saying us but you don’t know what that meant or how it was possible—they could see the thread but as far as you could tell, they did not have a connecting one. You had never seen anything like that before, nor had you ever read about anything like that. 
You thought you should say something but your mind was reeling as you tried to piece together the puzzle and figure out what was going on.
But before you could do or say anything, Kappa squirmed and twisted in your arms, hanging over you to whack his small fist hard against Theta’s mask—with more strength than you expected from the boy. 
Theta grunted stumbling back—he wasn’t hurt but the force of Kappa’s swing had partially knocked his mask off, revealing thick scars similar to the ones you had seen on Gamma. He fumbled trying to straighten out the mask and as he did, you whirled around to rush to your room.
You didn’t get far. 
Not because of Theta, who was cursing as he fastened the mask back on, but because you slammed right into someone else’s chest, broad and dressed in dark clothes. You glanced up as a pair of gloved hands grabbed your waist, irritation rising at Pantalone’s thin, close-eyed smile. You wondered if you had passed or failed whatever test he expected from this situation. 
The pads of his fingers pressed into your waist as he shifted you over to the side and behind him, leveling his attention on Theta as the man straightened back, narrowed eyes still trained on you instead of the Harbinger. 
“Theta.” Venom dripped from Pantalone’s words as he spoke his name. “I suggest you make your way back to the Doctor’s labs instead of bothering my guest.”
“Your?” Theta spat out, taking a step forward. His eyes were wild again now, far gone from the hardened look he had directed toward you after he made his decision. You stiffened, watching as Pantalone lifted his chin, raising his eyebrows, challenging Theta. “She is not your anything, banker. Go back to counting your coins and sucking noble cock to get further in the world, stay out of our business.”
Pantalone, to his credit, did not look bothered by the dig—the only sign of anger was the way his lip twitched before he spoke: “Take it up with your maker, fraud. You have no authority here, you are not the Doctor.”
“I am-” 
Sharp and loud, Theta’s voice rang up and down the hall as he took two long steps forward as if to attack Pantalone but the Harbinger only let out a huff of amusement as he cut Theta off mid-shout.
“I am not one of the subordinates who you can fool into believing you are him. You are a rabid dog running a thin line between life and death. It is only a matter of time before you’re put down, I again suggest you leave before I make that day come sooner.” 
You thought that you shouldn’t feel anything for the man standing a few paces away but something deep in you clenched when Theta drew back as if he’d been physically slapped, red eyes wide with shock. The feeling did not last long though because as quick as the hurt appeared, it was gone, twisting into something far more sinister as a wide smile spread across his lips, teeth bared much like the rabid dog Pantalone claimed him to be. 
“You think you can kill me?” 
Something manic stained his words, deranged and challenging as if he meant for Pantalone to back his words right then and there. Theta did not have a vision, not one that you could see or feel at least, but you knew in your bones that he was far, far more dangerous than he looked—he was strong and he moved faster than any visionless human you’d ever seen. Briefly, you wondered if he even was hu-
Pantalone stepped forward and the air around the four of you crackled with an energy that made your skin crawl. You let out a shaky breath, eyes widening as you took a step away from the man, unconsciously trying to get away from the source of the energy, an unnatural and uncomfortable feeling spreading through you. 
What is that? 
It felt sick. Corrupted. The air tasted stale and rotted as it seeped down the halls like poison. Your vision was reacting in response to it, the purity of the hydro energy trying to repel the new, malefic energy but it was curling all around you, trying to find chinks in the thin shield your vision was providing you from the decay. 
You had to get away from it but your feet were rooted to the ground, watching the scene play out before you. Neither Theta nor Pantalone looked bothered by the energy—in fact, Theta looked thrilled, eyes alight as his impossibly wide smile widened even more, a giggle slipping from his lips as he raised his hand as if to summon something, but before he could snap his fingers, his eyes dulled and his knees hit the ground hard. Almost like he had been turned off, just like that.
What-
At once, the energy around Pantalone dissipated and you could move, confusion riddling your mind as you tried to figure out what happened to Theta and what that disgusting energy was. You took a step forward, eyes wide and trained on Theta first—was that Pantalone’s doing? But as you turned to look at him, your gaze caught sight of a figure down the hall. 
Dottore. 
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You were bleeding. 
Dottore could feel his cheeks stinging but he hadn’t been sure what it was until he got to the hall in Pantalone’s wing where Gamma had left you. Theta was on the ground, empty-eyed and still, turned off courtesy of Dottore, and Pantalone was standing to the side of you, seemingly unimpressed by the whole situation. 
But you were looking at him, and only him, and he could only focus on you, eyes tracing the blood as it dripped down your cheeks to your neck, dribbling down your skin. With creased brows and lips pressed together tightly, he couldn’t tell if the look you were directing toward him was suspicion or anger or something else entirely. The only thing he could feel from you was what he assumed were the remnants of the confrontation with Theta: fear, anxiety, skepticism, confusion, disgust. 
Disgust, was that directed toward him or Theta or both of them? It didn’t sit well with him. He wondered how much Theta had told you, and he wondered how much you’d been able to piece together from what he had. Dottore had been hoping to keep the existence of the segments a secret from you. 
The last thing he wanted to have to do was get into depth about what they were because if he knew you even half as well as he thought he did, he knew it would turn into an interrogation of all that he’d been up to with his research. Even when you were young, when the third phase of the bond had first manifested, he had to be careful about what he was thinking about so that it wasn’t transcribed to you. Countless times he received words from you that could have only been originally given by him: the names of the segments, residue, deactivate, and Dottore knew that you must be taking every word he sent you to relentlessly research into them. 
“Doctor,” Pantalone finally drawled as Dottore came to a stop in front of them, forcing his attention away from you just for a second. “It’s about time that you’ve leashed your mad dog, I’m quite tired of dealing with him.”
Dottore didn’t acknowledge his words. Instead, he focused his attention back onto you—the only apparent wounds were the deep scratch marks on your cheek and wrist, painful but mostly superficial. It would heal in a few days at most, he would pass along an ointment to Pantalone so he could give it to you to speed along the healing process. 
The issue for Dottore laid in the boy tucked neatly in your arms, hiding his face against your skin.
The Kappa segment. 
Dottore exhaled. That would be trouble trying to handle. The Kappa segment was skittish and nervous. He usually only stuck around Epsilon, Iota or Gamma, he even tried to avoid the other segments if he could. Dottore had a feeling that it was because they reminded him of their father but he couldn’t be sure. 
Either way, he had never latched onto someone like this before and Dottore had a feeling it would be an issue trying to get him away from you. He didn’t like shutting down the younger segments—or any of the segments for that matter because it tended to mess with their wiring—but he thought he might have to in order to get the kid back to the estate without alerting the entire palace to your presence and relationship to him. 
His eyes lingered on you, only for a few more moments, watching the way you held Kappa close, arms wrapped around him tightly as if to shield him from danger. Kappa seemed like he was on the verge of dozing off, his shoulders rising and falling steadily—he’d never seen him so comfortable with someone that wasn’t Epsilon before. Something unfamiliar tightened his chest. Longing? Desire? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. 
He looked away sharply, finally turning his attention to Pantalone. 
“Regrator, don’t act as if you spend all of your free time reluctantly handling my segments. You are usually asking for them, in fact,” Dottore said dryly. He barely spared you another look as he said: “I’ll handle this. Go back to your room and rest.”
Your face twisted and Dottore bit back a sigh, realizing that round three of his war of words with you was about to begin.
“I am not a child,” you shot back, voice tight. “You can’t just send me to my room. I have questions and you will give me answers now. I’ve waited long enough.”
Dottore had a feeling that you were not just talking about the past few hours. You were talking about the decade he had spent ignoring your existence. Unfortunately for you, he had no interest in answering your questions, not now or ever. 
He turned his attention back to Pantalone, ignoring the furious look that spread across your face at being blatantly ignored. Luckily—or unluckily, time would tell—Epsilon stepped in. He watched as your brows dipped in suspicion, looking between Epsilon and Dottore warily. If you hadn’t put together something was very, very wrong with the existence of Kappa, Gamma and Theta already, he had a feeling that Epsilon’s appearance just sealed it. 
Dottore turned away as Epsilon took your hand in his to press his lips to your knuckles before he gently led you in the direction of the door on the left. Gamma and Iota followed behind, the latter far more excited than the former. Gamma cast one last pleading look in Dottore’s direction just as Iota slammed the door shut behind them. 
Dottore, as he turned his attention to Theta’s still body, thought this might just be the worst case scenario. All three of the children. Theta. Epsilon. The last segments Dottore wanted meeting you all somehow managed to do just that within hours of you being in Zapolyarny. This would spread to all of the rest of the segments in no time and then he would have Zeta demanding to see proof of your existence and Rho lurking about curious; he’d have Delta bashing down the palace door to get Iota away from you, convinced by Lambda that you were only here to deceive them. And he’d have Lambda doing god knows what to try to remove your existence from their lives so they could continue their research without distraction. 
He needed a plan of action and he needed it fast but first, he had to deal with this. 
“What happened?” 
“Two aristocrats came up looking for the Kappa segment,” Pantalone said off-handedly. “Your soulmate interfered.”
“Interfered?” Dottore demanded. “What was she doing wandering around?”
Pantalone raised his eyebrows. “Was I meant to lock her in her room?”
Dottore looked at him coldly, silently telling him yes, he should have. They could not afford to have any of their subordinates run into you, much less any of the Harbingers and he knew that some of them would be searching for you. He remembered Columbina’s cryptic comment about you a few months ago, Sandrone’s fury at your presence in Snezhnaya, Arlecchino’s odd interest in you—and if Arlecchino was interested, it was only a matter of time before she sent her attack dog after you to find out whatever she wanted to know. Keeping you isolated from the rest of the Fatui was paramount.
“What happened with Theta?” Dottore asked after Pantalone let out an exaggerated sigh of agreement. 
“What always happens with Theta,” Pantalone said dismissively. “He gets set off and lashes out. Was going on about her faking the bond, apparently Lambda is going around convincing them she’s lying.”
Of course, Dottore thought bitterly. He knew that Lambda had been talking to Zeta, Delta and Rho but he thought the segment knew better than to get Theta wound up about this. 
He took a deep breath, taking a step away to calm himself down. Well, that made that decision: the first thing he had to do was talk to Lambda, he couldn’t have him turning the segments against you, least of all Theta, who was very liable to attack those that he thinks did him wrong. After that, he would figure out what to do with the rest of the segments because in stopping Lambda, he would have to admit to them all that you were his soulmate, that this was all real. 
That this was all real. 
Dottore shut his eyes briefly, unconsciously looking in the direction of where you, Epsilon and the kids had disappeared behind the dark door that led to your room. His body itched to follow them in there—the bond in work, surely, but he could feel it was getting stronger. It was stronger than it was while he had been dancing with you, and even stronger than it had been while talking to you outside of the washroom. He should just grab Theta and drag him back down to his lab, leaving Epsilon to deal with your interrogation, but his feet weren’t cooperating.
“You should speak to her,” Pantalone said as he turned to go back to his own room. “If you’re going to have me confine her to this wretched place, you should at the very least, explain to her why… lest you have a very unhappy soulmate on your hands. I doubt that would be conducive to productivity.” 
Dottore hummed dismissively, glancing back at the door once. He supposed should, he didn’t want to deal with your turbulent emotions, especially when he was going to be dealing with the segments. 
Distantly, a part of him wondered if he was just using that as a logical excuse to give in to the pull of the bond. 
“And Doctor, do get me that prototype by the morning as promised.”
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You felt overwhelmed. The older boy, Gamma, was sitting in the corner of your room, knees tucked to his chest as he watched you with the younger two. Kappa was fast asleep now, tiny arms slung around your neck as he slept—you had tried to place him down on your bed but whenever you tried to pull him away from you, his arms tightened and he started stirring awake. The other one, you didn’t know his name yet, was kneeling on the floor next to the bed where you were sitting, big red eyes peeked above the comforter, watching you with varying degrees of suspicion and distrust and longing.
He had the same scar on the upper half of his face that Gamma did, you couldn’t help but notice, down to the burn patterns and wrinkles. And they were identical, if Gamma was a few years younger, he’d be the spitting image of the kid. It was impossible. Not even brothers can be so similar as to be identical down to the wrinkles and patterns in scars. 
So, what were they?
You had to have been onto something when you thought it was some sort of experiment—Kappa was too young to have been born eight years ago, Gamma and the new kid were too similar in appearances, if you saw correctly when Kappa partially knocked off the mask even Theta seemed to have some scars on his face, and Theta and Kappa both showed a strength that did not reflect in their body.
A throat being cleared knocked you out of your thoughts, your eyes drew up from the kids to where the man was standing near the door. He gave you a small, apologetic smile as his eyes met yours—red and gentle. 
Who was this?
You watched the man with thinly veiled suspicion. He looked just like Dottore, silvery blue hair styled the same way and even wearing a similar dark button-up that he did. 
Except unlike Dottore, he was not wearing a mask. 
His skin was smooth compared to the scars of the children and instead of the ever-present frown of Dottore, the corner of his lips were turned up. You had grown used to the cold aloofness of your soulmate over the years, it unnerved you how someone could look so much like him and yet feel entirely different. 
You raised your chin as Epsilon came to sit on the edge of the bed next to you, keeping your expression stony, studying him to try to figure out what he wanted from you.
“Peace,” he murmured. “I’d just like to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” 
He had a white handkerchief between his fingers and you were acutely aware of the blood still dripping down your cheeks and arm. He raised his eyebrows, but sighed when he realized you weren’t going to budge, placing the handkerchief back in his pocket. 
“Very well,” he said quietly. “I’m sure you have questions. I can answer them if you’d like.”
Of course you had questions, but could you trust him to answer them? 
He didn’t appear as if he was trying to deceive you, his eyes were warm and his lips were lax, he had none of that tightness that Dottore usually had. Was he faking it? Or was he wanting to help you? You couldn’t tell, his demeanor was throwing you off.
“You’re really her?” a new, young voice said softly, voice hesitant but tinged with the slightest bit of hope that had your heart aching. You looked back toward the kid as he peered up at you through thick curls of hair cautiously. “Our soulmate?”
Our.
Your ears rang, distantly watching as the boy reached out for your hand, thin fingers playing with yours until he reached the one your thread was looped around. From the corner of your eye, you looked at the older man, who was watching you with a knowing expression.
Our.
How was that possible? He could clearly see your thread, trying to play with it and tug at it in the same way you used to as a child, but he had no connecting one, like the Doctor did. Did that make you his soulmate but he was not yours? Was there such a thing as unrequited soulmates? But you didn’t think it was that simple, there was a critical piece of information you were still missing.
But the kid was looking at you again, anxiously awaiting your response, and you didn’t have the heart to deny him. Even if you weren’t sure what was going on, he could undeniably see your thread.
“Yes,” you finally said, watching as he lit up, red eyes pooling with tears and lips trembling as he flung himself forward, burying his face into your lap. He jostled Kappa, who kicked his foot out instinctively, but the kid was unbothered.
“I knew you were real.” His voice was muffled into the cloths of your dress. “Everyone said you weren’t but I knew you were.”
Your throat tightened and your now free hand twitched from where it was laying on the comforter of your bed, coming up to pat his head.
You let out a shaky breath, lifting your gaze to focus on the man still sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you with an indecipherable expression.
“I’ve never seen them take to someone like this before,” he said softly. “I suppose it’s just further proof that you are who you claim to be. Some of the others thought it might be a ploy.”
Others, you wondered distantly but you were more focused on the last thing he said, face twisting.
“I would not fake a soul bond,” you said tightly, mind turning to your stepfather and your mother, your dead father and your destroyed family.
“I insulted you,” he realized. “My apologies, it was not my intention. I was not one of the ones that thought that way but I figured it was best for you to know and prepare, some of them might doubt you when they meet you.”
“How many of you are there?” you asked, but the more important question that you just couldn’t push out was what are you?
“Excluding the Doctor, there are nine of us. I’m called Epsilon. Kappa is the youngest, then Iota, who is on your lap, and then Gamma, who’s sitting over there,” he explained.
You looked back over to where Gamma was sitting. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, staring out the window into the dark night… or maybe he was. Amused, you realized that he was still watching you carefully through the reflection of the window. As soon as he realized that you noticed what he was doing, he turned his head away quickly.
“He’ll warm up,” Epsilon said quietly. You looked back toward him, watching as his lips turned up, red eyes glittering, as if sharing some secret with you. “He’s nervous.”
You couldn’t help the way you let out a puff of amusement, studying Gamma and the way he was digging his nails into the palm of his hand and tapping his foot against the wood of the window nook incessantly. 
“I don’t… really understand all of this,” you finally admitted, relaxing a bit with Epsilon. You let yourself lean back against the large, decorative pillows set up on the bed, watching the man that looked eerily similar to Dottore, wondering if this was what he looked like beneath the mask as well.
“This is new for all of us too,” Epsilon told you, “so I can’t really explain to you what all of the bonds might be or mean… but I’m sure that is not what you’re asking right now, is it?”
“Not entirely, at least. First I’d like to understand…”
What you are. What they are. Why you can see the thread and why the children think that I’m their soulmate too.
“Well, I’ll do my best at explaining then. You deserve that much at least.”
The heavy weight on your chest lifted, if only a little. You thought that this might be the first time in weeks, months, that someone was actually giving you answers. Your father passed and left you with only questions, the masked person from the inn gave you even more questions and not a single answer, and now even Dottore refused to answer your questions, he just sent you away for Pantalone to deal with. 
“Thanks,” you said softly, eyes meeting his again.
Epsilon gave you a small smile, lips parting to speak but before he could say anything, the door to your room opened again. Your gaze shot up, eyes falling upon a familiar masked figure standing in the frame, lips pressed together tightly. 
“Epsilon,” Dottore said coldly. “Bring Theta down to the lab.”
Epsilon sighed heavily, shooting you an apologetic look before rising to his feet. “Another time,” he offered, and you nodded, disappointed, ignoring how Dottore’s lips turned downward.
Epsilon made his way out of the room, slipping past Dottore, and Gamma threw himself off the nook and scampered after Epsilon, fleeing the room without another look toward you. 
The door slam shut behind them, an eerie silence sweeping over the room as he left you with Dottore.
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Dottore’s already sour mood worsened when Epsilon flung him a triumphant look as soon as his back was turned to you. He wondered what he said to you in those few minutes he was in here alone with you but for some reason, he doubted that you would tell him and he by no means wanted to add more fuel to the fire by appearing interested in you. Narrowed eyes followed Epsilon as he left the room, shutting the door harshly behind him and the Gamma segment so he could speak to you without unwelcome ears listening in.
The Kappa and Iota segments made no move to leave—one being fast asleep and the other now watching Dottore suspiciously, shifting behind you to peek over your shoulder at him. Dottore could see the boy clutching something in his hand, knuckles white around the object and arms tensed as if ready to throw it. Dottore raised his eyebrows, albeit knowing neither of you could see the action anyway. 
He ignored Iota and drew closer to the bed, taking a seat on the opposite side of the mattress that Epsilon had been sitting on as he observed you. You looked exhausted—your eyes looked heavy and tired, they didn’t have the same spark in them that they had earlier in the night, and the blood from the scratch marks on your was smeared messily, staining your skin and dress. 
Irritated, Dottore wondered why Epsilon hadn’t cleaned it up, pulling out a cloth from his jacket pocket and shifting a little closer. He grabbed your arm first, ignoring that tingling sensation as it reappeared as soon as the pads of his fingers were pressed against your bare skin, and especially ignoring the red thread tied around your finger. 
He could feel your eyes on him as he carefully wiped away the blood, distantly noting that Iota had shimmied out from behind you and was darting to the opposite side of the room. 
“He will not bother you again,” Dottore finally said, sparing a look to the side as Iota approached from the side, this time with bandages. He eyed the boy curiously, wondering if this room was one of the places he fled to those rare times he was stuck in the palace and got overwhelmed by the amount of people. Iota turned his head away pointedly and Dottore just shook his head, taking the bandages and wrapping them neatly around your wrist and forearm. 
You didn’t respond to him and Dottore glanced up at you, waiting for you to say something. You looked away, Dottore bit back an irritated sigh, tying off the bandage and moving a bit closer to look at your face.
“Thought they just called you a doctor for the irony,” you snipped half-heartedly, keeping your eyes averted as his fingers grabbed your jaw, turning your head to the side to see just how deep Theta had cut you.
Dottore let out an amused puff of air. “They do,” he drawled, “but I’m usually presented as one to acquire more willing test subjects. I must at least know the basics.” 
You gave him a withering look from the corner of your eye, bottom lip pushed out. He was grateful for his mask hiding the way his gaze lingered on it, focusing back on the scratch marks. They weren’t too deep but he didn’t have an ointment with him to spread over them, so instead he just pressed the handkerchief to the skin, cleaning up the blood.
“What are they?” you asked, eyes steeled for an argument. 
Dottore sighed heavily, considering briefly trying to avoid the subject but you did not seem keen on letting this slide and he was not in the mood for an argument. He wanted to get this done and get out of your room as soon as possible, even if his body was betraying him by allowing his fingers to linger on your cheek as he wiped away the blood. 
“They are me.”
Concise and to the point, as he always was, Dottore waited for the explosion of questions and demands to come from you but you only stared at him, studying him. Again, Dottore was grateful for his mask because he did not like the way he felt beneath your gaze.
“How?” you finally questioned. 
“Experimentation,” Dottore said dryly, your eyes narrowed as if that was an obvious answer. His lip unconsciously pulled up into a smirk. “I was able to isolate and extract my consciousness at specific periods of my life after years of study into-”
“Irminsul,” you finished for him, voice little over a breath and eyes darting down to your forearm. 
Dottore’s lips pressed into a thin line, watching you carefully—he did not like that, or did he? A part of him was impressed that you’d managed to put it together so easily just from the little he said and the words that had been transcribed to you through the bond. But on the same note, he thought that the fact that the bond had given you enough words to so easily string together how he had gone about his research was unnerving. 
Not for the first time since the bond appeared, Dottore felt distinctly violated. 
“Yes,” he said slowly. “Study into Irminsul. All I had to do was create vessels for the consciousnesses after extracting them.”
“And they are… you?” 
You were looking at Kappa with a different expression now, Dottore couldn’t figure out what it was but it made him uncomfortable, vulnerable. There was a reason why he made sure to keep all of the younger segments far, far away from people. Dottore let his hand drop back to his lap, folding the handkerchief and placing it back in his pocket. 
“Yes.” His voice came out colder and sharper, and you caught the change in tone, looking up at him quickly with furrowed brows. “I’ll be taking them back to the labs.”
You didn’t look pleased, frowning as you looked down at Kappa, who was still fast asleep. Behind Dottore, Iota let out a noise of protest but Dottore only had to turn his head to the side to stop the boy from speaking his complaint out loud. 
“So what? You’re just going to leave again?” you asked harshly.
“Did you think I was going to stay?” he quipped back, sarcasm dripping from his words. “That you and the younger segments and I were just going to be one happy family?” 
To your credit, you didn’t look too perturbed by the harsh words but he knew it affected you, if the way your grip tightened on Kappa had anything to say about it.
“You can’t just keep me here,” you spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m not-”
“You’ll find that I can do whatever I want,” Dottore corrected, rising to his feet. 
You didn’t hesitate, shifting Kappa down to lay on the bed next to you as you moved forward, fingers wrapping around his wrist to hold him in place. A commendable effort, but all it would take was one quick snap of his wrist to free it from your hold…
But he did not snap away his wrist. As easy as it would have been, instead he just stood there, staring down at you, waiting for you to say whatever you wanted to say. He tensed as if to pull away but his body didn’t cooperate—he blamed it on the bond but he wasn’t so sure that was the case.
“I’m not done,” you said. “I have more questions.”
“Another time,” he dismissed, finally forcing himself to pull his wrist back. Again, he felt a strange void as soon as the pressure of your fingers was removed from him. “I’ve wasted enough time tonight.”
Wasted?
“Wasted?” you echoed his very thought, scoffing loudly before shaking your head. “You know what, I don’t really care. What I do care about is knowing what that energy was around Pantalone—what was that?”
Dottore looked at her steadily from beneath his mask. “That is none of your business,” he said coolly. “Do not go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong lest you find yourself a guest here forever.”
The look you gave him was nothing short of murderous. “As if I won’t be already,” you spat, rising to your feet to take a few steps closer to him after he moved away. Dottore remained rooted in place, looking down at you. “I will not be kept here like a caged animal.”
“Then maybe you should not act like one.”
“Excuse me?” Dottore’s words held no weight, but he did very much enjoy goading reactions out of you, watching as your face twisted in fury at the insult. “I came here for a reason, Doctor, and that reason was not to be imprisoned by you. I have information I need to find and one way or another, I will acquire it. You can either-”
“You will do as I say so long as you’re in this palace,” Dottore said, cutting you off by pinching your cheeks between his fingers and tilting your face up to look at him. “Just because we have a bond forced on us by Celestia does not make you untouchable, control that tongue of yours before it lashes at the wrong person. Once I get the information I want, I will consider getting you what you want. Then, we will never have to see each other again. Until then, you have reaped what you sowed and it is no one’s fault but your own that you were not adequately prepared for the consequences of your actions, do you understand?”
Just for a second, he watched as a helpless expression spread across your face, eyes glassy and lips pressed together tight as you stared up at him. His tongue itched to say something else but no words formed on it before you snapped your face out of his hold, looking away. 
“Get out.”
A part of him wanted to refuse just to be spiteful—was it spite? Or was it something else, that heavy feeling weighing at his chest? That was a question he was not ready to answer, so instead, he smiled thinly:
“Gladly.”
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i promise they’re going to start warming up to each other soon more than just in their internal narration <.< soon as in very soon wait til you see the scene i have planned
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RBS APPRECIATED!
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miley1442111 · 6 months
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back to chicago-c.berzatto
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a/n: i'm probably going to make this two parts (or more) because I really like this idea so this is part 1. i imagined a fem reader and it's mentioned quite a few times but as usual, imagine what you like. SET AFTER SEASON 2
summary: a double date with your boyfriend at the Bear can only go well, right?
pairings: carmenberzatto x femreader (complicated relationship), platonicthe bear x reader, romantic oc x reader
warnings: general angst, mentions of mikeys death
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You and Carmen had grown up together, living across the street from one another. Your childhoods were wildly different, his filled with family drama and personal independence. Yours filled with absent parents and the necessity of independence. You went to school together, went to prom together (as ‘friends’), and you were each other's first kiss. Then, you went off to college for law and business and he went off to cook. You vowed to never go back to Chicago, but stayed in contact with Mikey until he died. Then you came back. You felt a debilitating need to see Mikey off. Watch him be put into the ground. You had hoped Carmen would show up. He didn’t. 
You had stayed in Chicago, you had the time and money. Being a successful lawyer in New York was a great gig. Straight out of college you’d gotten a job at a top law firm, and just last year you were made partner. Taking time off for personal reasons wasn’t questioned. Even if it had happened a year ago. Even though you were in Chicago purely for the reason of nostalgia. You’d gone last year for the funeral and this time it was just because something in you missed it. 
It felt good to breathe in the Chicago air again as you walked down the darkened streets, ready for a date at a new Chicago restaurant, The Bear. It was where The Beef had been. Devastating how someone just came in and wrecked all of Mikey’s work. You thought to yourself as you opened the door and searched for the man you were meeting. Adrian, an accountant you’d met at a jazz club, was a nice man. He was sweet and reliable, funny and kind and you both got along well. He was never too handsy and always on time… but you still feared full commitment. He waved you over and you sat beside him as he pressed a kiss to your lips, you smiled, greeting his friends. This ‘double date’ thing had been his idea. This restaurant had been his idea, and as you stared Richie Jerimovich in the face, a shocked dumb-founded look on his face, you remembered why you left Chicago in the first place You remembered Carmen always wanted to call his restaurant ‘The Bear’ and you remembered that there was no getting out of this. 
Shit. 
“Do you two know each other?” Adrian asked, a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back to reality. 
“Fuck yeah we do! Cousin, how are you?” Richie smiled, forgoing the formalities and pulling you out of your seat and into a hug. 
“Richie, how are you?” You mustered up your best fake smile, trying to keep the gaze of Adrian’s friends unsuspicious. 
“I’m great Bug, how are you?” he asked, using the wretched nickname you endured for all those years. 
“Bug?” Adrian smiled. 
“Childhood nickname,” you explained quickly. “I’m good, Rich, real good.”
“You're a fancy lawyer now huh? What was it, New York right?” 
“That’s right,” you smiled. You couldn’t ruin this dinner. Adrian had flown all the way from New York to see you. This was the first time in a month that he’d seen you. Adrian’s friends had to like you. You had to make them like you.
“Sugar’s going to freak out when she sees you,” Richie smiled. You followed Nat on instagram, but refused to like any of her pictures, not wanting her to reach out. You knew she was pregnant. “You won’t believe it, she’s pregnant!”
“Oh my god! I must congratulate her,” you smiled, not realising what that tiny statement would bring.
“I’ll take you to the back now! I’ll give the rest of you guys the tour after,” he smiled at the rest of the table and they seemed to be excited by the prospect of seeing the kitchen so you plastered on a smile, kissed Adrian’s cheek, and let Richie lead the way. 
As you edged closer to the kitchen, you could hear voices, but thankfully not Carmen’s. You turned a corner, pushed through the door behind Richie, and you were led to a small office. Inside sat Natalie ‘Sugar’ Berzatto, ‘Uncle Jimmy’, and Carmen fucking Berzatto. You let out a breath.
“Look who came in to say hi,” Richie announced, stepping to the side to stop covering you. Sugar and Jimmy’s eyes lit up and they immediately started to hug you, yet Carmen stayed frozen to his spot against the wall.
“My love, how’s New York?” Jimmy asked, his arms around you. 
“It’s great, everything I wanted,” you smiled. Your life was something you felt you could be proud of. You loved New York and you loved your job. You had great friends, friends that were practically family. You had Adrian, he was great and he loved you. Yet you still thought about the Berzattos daily. “Congratulations Natalie!” You turned to her, hugging her side due to her large bump. 
You exchanged small talk back and forth with Jimmy and Sugar as Richie and Carmen whispered in the corner. You couldn’t make out what they were saying but it worried you. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
carmen
There you were. Standing there, fucking glowing. And here I was, a stained white t-shirt on and a pair of fucking jeans on. You looked beautiful, the type of beautiful that would make me jealous of the guy you were going home to if I saw you walking down the street. What were you doing here? Why the fuck were you standing in my office, looking so damn beautiful, yet so unattainable?
“She’s here with a guy,” Richie whispered into my ear. 
“What?” I scoffed. 
“She’s here with a guy!” He whispered louder. I felt my blood boil. So you’re here, in my fucking restaurant, with some other fucking guy. Awesome. I searched your hands for an engagement ring, or worse, a wedding ring. I saw none and my ears refocused into the room. 
“So?” I sighed, feigning disinterest.
“ ‘So’? Your fucking girl is with another guy. In your restaurant!” Richie snapped. 
“She’s not my fucking girl anymore, stop talking outta your ass,” I shoved him, making him leave me alone. My words were deflections. Of course you were my fucking girl, you always would be. You were perfection personified in my eyes, even with any of your flaws. And I wanted you to be my girl, but I got so fucking in my head about it I couldn‘t ask, and then we left and went our separate ways. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You
“Look, I’d better get back to my table, my boyfriend’s waiting-”
“Boyfriend?” Jimmy cut you off. “I thought you and Carmy were dating?” 
“Yeah, when we were like 17-” You started but Carmen cut you off. 
“We never dated.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. Your smile faltered, then faded entirely and it was all Carmen’s fault. 
“Look, I’m sure my table is waiting on me to order, it was great to see you guys,” you smiled and left the room, walking back to your table, a sigh leaving your lips. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Carmen 
“You are such a fuckin’ asshole!” Richie shouted as Sugar and Jimmy sighed. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about ‘we never dated’? You’re still fuckin’ in love with her!” 
“Richie just fuck off ok! I don’t have to explain shit to you-” I started but I was cut off by Sugar. 
“That was such a shitty thing to say Bear! We haven’t seen that girl in fucking years and of course you had to fucking ruin it. We’ll probably never fucking see her again!” 
“I know that was shitty Sugar, I’mf fucking aware!” I started as I walked out of the office and into the kitchen. I wanted to make your food amazing. That was the only way you’d ever forgive me, right?
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You
You walked back to your table and answered any and all questions pertaining to your relationships with the Berzattos, leaving out that you had a crush on Carmen. You allowed yourself to peek into the kitchen window and you saw him furiously moving. He was mixing something? You couldn’t see. Adrian’s kissing your shoulder pulled you back to reality. Adrian was great. He knew how hard tonight was for you. He knew about what happened in your childhood. He knew about what happened with Carmen. Adrian’s friends, Emilia and John both got up to take a smoke break and he turned to you. 
“Are you alright?” He asked, squeezing your hand.
“Fine, it’s just… messy, I guess.”
“Well you’re doing great. John and Emilia love you,” he smiled and kissed your cheek. “I wouldn’t have picked this place if I knew, I just wanted to see you-”
“I know,” you smiled at him. “I wanted to see you too,” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips and he grinned. 
“You look so beautiful tonight,” he flirted. 
“So do you,” you simply said and he chuckled. 
“Such a flirt,” he joked and you laughed, a real laugh. He kissed you again, quick and sweet. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you said matter-of-factly and his face lit up. You truly had no idea if you actually loved him. Your commitment issues were constantly getting in the way of your relationships, so you had to do something, telling him you love him, I admit, might’ve been a crazy thing to start with but, you were running out of options.
He kissed you again, less quickly but still polite enough to not be seen as improper. John and Emilia started walking back in, so you pulled away to see him with a boyish grin on his face. 
That felt… good? Like it was right?
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Carmen
I walked out into my own restaurant, nervous as I was when I was 17, asking you to the prom. All you have to do is explain the dishes. I thought to myself. I know my dishes. Richie walked behind me with the other two dishes in his hands, and I took a deep breath. There you were, radiant as ever, laughing along with what someone said. I would do fucking anything to just have your number so I could just text you sometimes. 
I walked up, standing beside you and your smile flattened, looking fake. 
“Hey Carmen,” you greeted. 
“And how do you know the owner?” John asked, excited about all of the attention your table was getting.
“We were-”
“We dated in highschool,”  I said before you could finish and John chuckled as your boyfriend put a protective arm around your shoulder. I explained all the dishes and placed them in front of each of your table. 
“Thanks Bear,” you mumbled and my heart practically stopped. 
“Well, thanks,” your boyfriend gritted out. I smirked. 
——————————————————————————————————-
(PART 2)
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of-many-aus · 1 year
Text
Less Than Ideal Living Situations
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Summary: you and jake are put into a situation that is less than ideal
Warning: slight mention of violence
A/N: I’m kinda worried that this sucks; but also, feel free to send in requests for one shots for this series if you feel like it!!
Take Me Out to the Ball Game Masterlist
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.
You would like to reiterate the fact that this was completely Natasha Trace’s fault. Nothing about this did you do on your own free will.
She was the one who began the school year by commuting to classes after she got an apartment off campus with her boyfriend of two years, leaving you roommate-less.
True, she had apologized over and over again and even offered to keep being your roommate and give up the chance of staying with her boyfriend, but you wouldn’t let her. You were her best friend after all, and what kind of friend would you be if you kept her from happiness on your own selfish accords?
So, you reassured her that it was fine and you would find new living arrangements. She didn’t have to worry about you.
Turns out, she probably should have been worried. Because after posting up flyers all over the campus and social media- offering a room in your apartment for anyone who would like to accept your offer- not a single reply came your way.
That was when you really began to stress out.
It was one day until roommates had to be finalized, and you didn’t have one.
You had even begun to contemplate how you could trick the college staff into thinking that you were still with Nat, but not a single idea that could actually be done without breaking a couple of laws came to mind.
Then, a notification came through on your phone halfway through history class. Someone had accepted your offer.
The relief and joy that spread through you was almost too overpowering to even read the name of the person that would be your new roommate.
Jake Seresin.
Star player of your college's baseball team with an ego larger than the campus and a reputation to back it up.
The two of you had literature together. That is, when he actually bothered to show up. And when he did, he would mostly sleep through it. The only reason he wasn’t failing any of his classes was because your school couldn’t afford losing the best baseball player they had seen in over fifteen years. According to the gossiping group of girls you overheard in the dining hall, that is.
It was clearly too close to the final date to change it and desperately try to search everywhere for somebody else- anybody else- so now, you would just have to suffer through it.
“-and then, I went to go check on Jake, only to find him face down on the lawn.” Bradley Bradshaw, first baseman for the baseball team, laughed, shifting the box in his arms, “So naturally, we all just decided roommates without him. I mean, he should have seen it coming. There’s an odd number of us, including our manager, so of course one of us is going to have to find a different living arrangement- he just shouldn’t have missed it. It’s a good thing he saw your ad though, or else he might be living in the alley behind the campus kitchen-“
The man had been happily chatting your ear off for the last hour now, as he helped his friend unload all of his stuff into your apartment. And while he seemed nice enough, you just wished he would stop talking. You were exhausted and, quite frankly, nervous about the whole situation, so you weren’t exactly in a chatty mood.
Both of you walked through the door of your apartment after trudging up the stairs for the tenth time
“Rooster, leave the girl alone. You’re gonna scare my new roommate away.” Jake's voice floated smoothly through his lips and reached your ears in a way that made you shiver. You now had to live with this man.
Bradley grinned, “You don’t need me for that, Hangman, I trust that you’re gonna do that all by yourself.”
It was an annual tradition at your school that every athlete as a freshman in your sports centered college would get a nickname that would follow along with them for the rest of their years.
You gave the blond a tight lipped smile, “Not yet scared away.”
The man beside you dropped the box onto the ground beside all the other ones, “Welp, that’s the last of them, Bagman.”
Your smile morphed into a small, genuine one as you turned to face him, “Thank you for the help.”
He threw a playful wink at you, “Anytime. Just give me a call if Seresin is giving you any trouble. I’ll rough him up for you.”
A laugh left your lips as Bradley gave you a two finger salute before turning on his heel and exiting your apartment, ignoring the warning look his teammate was giving him.
There was a silence that followed Bradshaw's absence, as if any form of conversation had been taken by the hand and led out by the man.
Jake cleared his throat, drawing your eyes to lock with his devastatingly green ones, “Thank you again for letting me live here.”
There was a sort of sincerity in his voice that would have made you do a double take if you weren’t already looking at him. It was a tone that you never in a million years would have expected to hear out of him.
You coughed lightly, forcing yourself to roll your eyes, “Yeah, well, didn’t have much choice.”
His look didn’t falter like you had expected it to, “No, I suppose not.”
“Well, I’ll be in my room. Let me know if you need any help unpacking.” You desperately needed to get out of this situation.
He waved his hand dismissively, “I think I can manage.”
With that, you practically scurried off to your room, tightly closing the door behind you before sliding your back down it until your legs were curled up to your chest.
Your hand flailed to the side, gripping onto a pillow from your bed and bringing it into your lap before shoving your face into it and screaming, letting it muffle the sound.
So yes, this was completely Natasha Trace's fault. You were stuck in a small apartment with the last person you would ever had thought, and you would never let her hear the end of it.
Taglist: @djs8891 @pono-pura-vida @shanimallina87 @melllinaa @callsignbirdy @fogle97 @randomfandomgirl97
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talxns · 7 months
Note
omg just came across that post and pls pls share ur thoughts on 60s brudick
Don’t mind if I do!!!
Batman (1966-68) is such an odd little treasure-trove of content when you look at it with a particular lens. Of course there are meta aspects of the show that kind of support the subtle brudick reading– the addition of the Aunt Harriet character to create some kind of buffer between the two guys constantly being together, and the addition of Barbara Gordon in season 3 to try to add a (kind of?) consistent love interest for Bruce so he didn’t seem as bored with women as he kind of gave off since he barely spent any time with anyone who wasn’t Dick. And Dick’s actor Burt Ward supposedly stated in his autobiography that Bruce and Dick could be interpreted as lovers.
Compared to modern interpretations, the characters of Bruce and Dick themselves are lighter, which complements the “campy” humorous tone of the show. Reference to Bruce’s parents happens only once, and Dick’s backstory is never addressed. This Batman doesn’t prowl around every night, tormented by his demons and pushing his loved ones away. He only goes out as Batman when Commissioner Gordon rings for him, always brings along Robin, and a majority of Batman and Robin’s crime-fighting takes place during the day.
This Bruce Wayne is kind of a do-no-wrong character. He’s never rude, he’s insistently law-abiding, and he’s never shown doing anything truly debaucherous, and the implication is that he just… Never does anything debauched ever. He never smokes or drinks alcohol, but not as much as a virtue of control as it is upholding a strict moral code against it. (He will order juice or more commonly milk when any kind of drinking is expected). This Bruce is kind of insufferable in his insistence of upholding good moral standing, and will take precious time to teach a moral lesson to Dick whenever he can think of one. And basically Bruce Wayne and Brucie Wayne are one in the same in this universe. His demeanor in public is the same as his demeanor in private.
Dick is similarly one dimensional. He is a goody-two-shoes like his guardian, though he has his outbursts of frustration which Bruce immediately tamps down on with some good old fashioned moral instruction. Dick will never fight Bruce’s word, will instantly agree with everything Bruce tells him, and will stroke his ego afterwards (Gosh, Bruce, you’re right! x100). This Dick is an excellent student, has many different hobbies (some of which he is very much not good at but Bruce still insists that he practice them), but doesn’t seem to be very cool compared to his classmates. He’s actually rather awkward and embarrassing when he tries. It’s probably because he’s spending all his time with Bruce, like a vicious cycle of relying on Bruce because he can’t relate to the cool kids at school and not being a cool kid because he’s hanging out with Bruce all day lol.
In Bruce and Dick’s freetime, they are together. There are maybe 4 or 5 instances out of 120 episodes where Bruce and Dick are not spending their day together before Gordon calls. It’s delightfully absurd. It’s certainly for the reasons to ease the plot, so they can be in the same place to start the episode’s story, but it gives the impression that Bruce Wayne almost exclusively spends all his time with Dick Grayson.
The show does a good job illustrating just how incredibly loyal and devoted to one another these characters are.
In an episode taking place at Dick’s high school, the other students tease him for being the ward of a millionaire, and Dick gets pretty defensive over it. In one of the rare instances that Dick is not with Bruce (on a date with a classmate), he is called by him, and dumps a milkshake on his date so he can have an excuse to go to Bruce. (Instances of Dick not being afforded a normal dating life during his teens and young adulthood because Bruce needs him is kind of a long running theme with these characters, isn’t it.)
There are a couple episodes where Bruce refuses to fight against brainwashed Dick (though there is an episode where Dick doesn’t return the favor and punches a brainwashed Bruce after apologizing in advance for it lol)
Bruce is adamant about Dick’s place at his side. Two times, Catwoman feigns innocence and offers to work with Batman as a partner. Bruce always reminds her of Robin being his partner, to which she always offers to kill him, and it always unsurprisingly upsets Bruce.
Bruce states that he would give up his life for Dick and tries to swap places with him when he’s in danger.
Dick is willing to let a villian fall to her death if she doesn’t cure Bruce of a spell she put him under. He is willing to let her dangle on the ledge of a tall building if she doesn’t promise to make Bruce normal again. Savage.
In the series, Dick is around 15-16 years old, since at the start he doesn’t have his license and by the end he gets it, and Bruce gives him a shiny red convertible for passing his driving test. You can just tell that when this Dick goes off to college, Bruce is going to be a wreck without him. What is he going to do all day now!?
Basically, aside from the 1943 black and white Batman serial, this was the first time we see a live action Bruce and Dick. And they are shown in all their devoted glory. In my opinion, this is the best live action interpretation of Dick and Bruce together (Sorry Schumacher fans), even if it’s very silly and dated. Kinda sad that there aren’t many options to choose from.
And since this Batman works on kind of an on-call system and isn’t vehemently patrolling the streets every night, isn’t really tormented by guilt and grief and never-ending duty, it’s really easy to extrapolate lazy evenings where Bruce and Dick are just simply enjoying each other’s company. Drinking tea and milk, reading poetry, and not being able to stay away from each other. In this universe, Aunt Harriet would never catch on, but Alfred would know and give them his blessing. Dick would push for more physical affection, Bruce would chastise him and teach him some moral lesson about abstinence, Dick would immediately fold and they’d go back to their hand holding and closed mouth kisses. That’s just the way this Bruce and Dick are. And it’s kind of refreshing in a pure and soft way.
I urge anyone to give the 60s Batman series a shot. Yeah, it’s goofy, yeah, Bruce and Dick seem out of character compared to modern interpretations, but hey, they are still valid interpretations, and it’s easy to see just how transparently they care for each other.
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mana-jjk · 8 months
Text
thinking really hard about a college au because i enjoy them a lot more than high school aus.
yuuta - pre-med, in school to become a doctor
toge - divided between computer science and dropping out of college to pursue opening his own café with a garden.
maki - pre-law, in school to become a lawyer
panda - zoology
yuuji - business degree that he’s just doing for his grandfather, will graduate but goes on to be a firefighter.
megumi - animal sciences, going on to enter veterinarian school to become a vet.
nobara - fashion design/marketing degree
gojo - a sadistic physics professor with multiple degrees, both through education and honorary, because he got bored. sometimes he picks students out to give full-ride scholarships, because he self-proclaims having too much money.
getou - philosophy professor that enjoys playing the devils advocate and watching his students squirm.
shoko - oversees the university hospital and occasionally recruits for the pre-med program
nanami - graduated with a business degree, agreed to give yuuji an internship
ijichi - gojo’s overworked TA
i just think maki and yuuta would struggle through graduate school together. their cabinets would be full of instant ramen, cabbage, junk food, and ungodly amounts of coffee. the only real food they get is because toge cooks for them and gives them the stink eye every time he opens their cabinet.
toge doesn’t really have room to talk though, he overworks himself and ends up going far too long without sleep. hours on assignments that make him miserable, burned out from the moment every semester starts. too often does yuuta find him dissociating, something he’s all too familiar with. yuuta himself suffers from insomnia, so it’s not uncommon for him to settle on the couch and run his fingers through toge’s hair until his eyes close.
toge probably had a really difficult time getting the courage to either drop out or just really not use his degree as intended. i can’t picture him genuinely enjoying higher education. even in this happy, no one dies world, his family is with the second years for a reason. computer science was appeasing enough, but the unhappiness is so draining that everyday getting up and going to class feels so impossible. he feels his happiest at the gardening club, cooking for his friends, not sitting in a lecture hall with a preview to what awaits him. but ultimately, i think the independence and knowledge that he wasn’t alone or abandoned was enough to push him into the decision. luckily enough he was a scholarship winner (gojo lol) so he wasn’t in debt, and gojo even offered to fund him through culinary school with the promise of free sweets forever.
with yuuta, i think his history of being hospitalized and the accident with rika (who is not dead here !! but she was paralyzed and had to move with a different family member who was able to support her) definitely pushed him to medical degrees. he was probably stuck between being a physical therapist, nurse, and full-fledged doctor. he still keeps in contact with rika, who is one of his biggest supporters when it comes to his goal, but he has a mental breakdown every week thinking about getting a medical degree. shoko definitely takes notice of his talent, and has extended opportunities to intern with her. gojo also found that they were distantly related, and not only paid for his entire education, but also the apartment he rents with maki and toge. he tried refuting, but gojo kept insisting that he was tapping into the family inheritance that technically belonged to both of them.
toge is more than a little devastated when yuuta decides to study abroad in their undergraduate, i actually think that’s when the fully misery of college hits him. not having an unhealthy classmate and friend to look after forced him to focus on himself, his least favorite pastime. having the first years helped, but it also forces him to reflect how much he cared about yuuta past being a friend too.
anyway, i have so many ideas for this au so um please ask me so i can word vomit everywhere. also normalize more college aus so people like me can still relate lol <3
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cricketnationrise · 8 months
Note
hello! :) THIS IS SO CUTE I CAN'T WAIT FOR A POSSIBLE CRICKET EXCLUSIVE!! because i am obsessed with u fr but that's common knowledge. <3
for the ficlet fest, if you'd like:
time stamp: 2:23am
location: brownstone
character: alex/henry
song: this is me trying by taylor swift (only if you want!!!!!!!)
rating: whatever you'd like
but like you can go any direction with this I'm just always projecting my adhd/anxiety/not good enough feelings onto alex on a regular basis :')
my ao3: firenati0n | Archive of Our Own (same as tumblr user)
THANK YOU SO MUCH! SENDING LOVE XOXO
your cricket exclusive is here! i actually went full on henry pov with this one bc my brain got stuck on the trying of it all. so have some first post-canon fight make up. this is actually the longest ficlet yet, but somehow i don't think that'll be a problem 😂 💜🦗
read the rest of the ficlets here!
❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙
2:32am, brownstone
The brownstone is quiet when he returns, which is completely reasonable for just after two-thirty in the bloody morning. 
It’s also immaculate, which is decidedly less so, especially considering the state of the place when Henry stomped out a few hours ago. 
The hallway is clear of trip hazards, shoes neatly in the rack. The kitchen gleams in the range hood light; counters clear and wiped down, small appliances lined up as precisely as Buckingham guards. Peeking his head in the for-once dark office reveals two tidy desks, chairs pushed in, and both of their laptops plugged in and charging. 
The den at the base of the stairs makes Henry pause. The stacks of books have been put away. The coasters on the coffee table have been relieved of their burdens of half-drunk tea cups and abandoned coffee mugs. In the dim light from the street lamps through the window, Henry can even see vacuum lines in the carpet. A second glance has Henry taking cautious steps inside.
There is one thing out of place after all. 
On the couch, propped on a few of the numerous throw pillows Pez insisted upon, and tucked into the quilt Ellen sent them, is Alex. Like an anchor to the ocean floor, Henry is drawn into the room, and to Alex’s side. 
He kneels between the coffee table and the couch near Alex’s head and just looks for a long moment. Alex clearly hasn’t been sleeping well. The couch is too short, even for Alex’s shorter frame, so his legs are tucked uncomfortably. His curls are more of a wild mess than normal, like he’s been tugging at them. Alex is gripping the quilt as tightly as he normally clutches Henry, and there’s deep furrows on his forehead. 
Henry should let him sleep, probably—neither of them have been sleeping all that well. Increased paparazzi presence as Alex’s first semester of law school starts and Henry takes a more active role in the shelter has been stressful. But Henry can’t help but reach out and try to smooth those lines on his forehead. Something churning and tense settles inside him when his gentle touch has Alex’s eyes blinking open, a small smile on his face when he recognizes Henry.. 
“You came back.”
“Of course I did, love.”
Alex exhales messily, blinking back tears now. “I wasn’t sure— After earlier—”
Henry shushes him with a hand on his cheek. “I will always come back to you. Promised I was done being an obtuse fuckin’ asshole, didn’t I?”
“You still left, though,” Alex says.
It’s Henry’s turn to fight back tears. “I could hear myself sounding more and more like Philip at his worst. It scared me. I didn’t want to subject you to that, to even inadvertently use my knowledge of you as a weapon. So I left before words I didn’t actually mean could find their mark.” He sways forward, resting his forehead on Alex’s, needing to be closer. “You deserve more than sharply aimed words, especially when you haven’t done a thing wrong.” 
“Hen…”
“I’m sorry Alex. I shouldn’t have— I knew it would be different once the paparazzi got wind of our plans, but I wasn’t prepared for how much more invasive they would feel. I’m having a hard time adjusting to life beyond Kensington’s thick walls and I started to take it out on you.”
Alex’s hand pulls on his shoulder. “C’mere.”
Henry climbs onto the couch and sprawls undignified on top of Alex, tucking his head into the crook of his neck. Alex’s hands, as ever, hold him steady, rubbing large circles across his back.
“There were two people in our fight, Henry. You aren’t the only one struggling. Or taking it out on the person he loves.” He presses a kiss to Henry’s temple. “I could hear echoes of my parents, but couldn’t figure out how to stop the word vomit. And that scared me—I never want you and I to be like them.”
Henry pulls his head back to meet his gaze fiercely. “Never.”
Alex smiles at his vehement tone, but it's got a rueful edge to it. “We’re gonna have to figure out how to talk about this stuff before it blows up in our faces again.” 
“Not tonight, though?”
“Nah, not tonight.” 
They’re quiet for a long moment, curled around each other on the couch, when a niggling thought finds its way past Henry’s lips. 
“Alex?”
“Hmm?”
“Why were you on the couch? Did you— Did you not want to be in our room?”
Alex holds him tighter. “I— You left and— So I was cleaning, and I did this room last, and when I was done there was no way stairs were happening, so I just collapsed here. I didn’t  actually think I'd fall asleep, I don't usually when you aren’t right next to me.”
“So it wasn’t because you wanted space from me?”
“Fucking hell, baby. No, I never want space. I want the opposite of space from you. If I could figure out a way to crawl into your rib cage every night I would.”
“Oh.” The last bit of tension leaves Henry’s body at that and he relaxes fully on top of Alex. 
“Yeah, oh.” Alex chuckles. “But, as nice as you feel on top of me, it’s late and this couch ain’t big enough for the two of us.” 
“You fit on it better than I do,” Henry can’t help but tease.
“First of all, rude. Second of all, I also have to pee so get up before I shove you off.” 
Reluctantly, Henry stands and reaches down to help Alex up after him. Henry folds the quilt and hangs it over the back of the couch, smoothing the last wrinkles with his hand. When he straightens up, Alex is only halfway up the stairwell. 
“Meet you in bed?” Alex whispers.
Henry climbs up to meet him. “Always, love.”
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eremorte · 7 months
Text
Badwolf’s graduation day
So recently I’ve been thinking about the last episode of ever after high. Specifically the scene where Professor Badwolf warns his daughters about being too obvious about their heritage/relationship, and then follows up with
“Until graduation our family must remain secret.”
This makes no sense to me. What is he still worried about?
At this point in the series the Story Book of Legends is revealed to be a macguffin that is more symbolic than anything as if his family exsisting for roughly two decades wasn’t enough proof (I’m including his relationship with Red in this).
What, pray tell, changes for Ramona and Cerise between that argument and graduation? I’m sure the radical youth of ever after royalty will probably write a few new laws in place to be more just (or the commoners demand it) but ultimately it’s the same rule book pre/post graduation day.
Cerise has been at school the whole time and has befriended a lot of people (list below) despite her supposedly withdrawn persona. (Which I imagine is more a product of familial conditioning than what she would be like if she was allowed to breath) including literal royalty which should have an impact on how safe her family is if they were to every travel outside of the dark forest.
In no particular order Cerise has befriended🫂/cordial with 😊/knows her family secret 🐺 with the following:
Raven queen 👑🫂🐺
Cedar wood🫂
Madeline hatter 🫂🐺 (and her dad)
Lizzie hearts 👑😊 (spring unsprung)
Hunter huntsman 😊
The charming trio 👑😊🫂 (Darling and Daring both have a respect for Cerise and their own reasons to sympathize with her cause. Dexter would be fine regardless of how cannon the cerise and the beast book is)
Briar beauty 👑😊 (diaries)
Rosabella beauty 👑🫂 (doll box)
Ginger breadhouse 🫂 (doll box)
Jillian beanstalk 🫂 (Doll box)
Tiny 😊 (also the fee fi go fum deal has me believing that he knows Cerise’s secret but doesn’t say anything)
Kitty Cheshire 😊🐺 (I remember photos from epic winter which make them out to be friends, but like ehhh)
dishonorable mention: Blondie lockes 😊 (diaries and epic winter).
Idk how widely spread out everyone is due to the show not elaborating on what the kingdom borders are (if mentioned in the books I have since forgotten) but that shouldn’t matter much. And while Badwolf and Cerise might not get the chance to catch up all that much I’m pretty sure he’d be aware of at least Raven, Cedar Rosabella, and Ginger. Raven has a lot of power behind her and would be willing to go to bat for Cerise if for whatever reason some other royal Royalty has control over hood hollow and wanted to be petty and cruel about the hood/Badwolf union.
Why would they really need to care that much about all the other kingdoms knowing? Are they known to be this unhinged? This line also implies to me that the events of Unfairest of them (book) all haven’t happened in the show which is fine I don’t remember that many events from the series I am aware of discrepancies between cannon and IMO show wins out. But if they had they begrudgingly accept Cerise and Ramona.
The last obstacle I can think of is Milton. But that man fell into obsolescence that Spirng Unsprung if not Thronecoming he doesn’t appear to make anymore threats about destiny though I understand if his presence still holds weight.
I also refuse to believe that the events of way too wonderland SBOL being split up weren’t broadcast absolutely everywhere.
The only reason I can think of is selfish preparation on part of both red and badwolf. Like they can’t adjust their plans or badwolf is planning to quit his job and they all plan to move somewhere else. (In the event show cannon wouldn’t have lined up with book cannon regarding hood hollow acceptance) Or maybe it’s connected to why Ramona got sent to the reform school?
if there are any details I missed or someone has an answer I’d be glad to hear it.
Edit: 3/19
Reread Unfairest of Them All specifically the section(s) on Hood Hollow and I was partially right. The family is kinda just waiting for Badwolf to feel confident enough to show off his family.
"I could loose my job for going off script, but even worse your mother and I could be banished along with you."-Badwolf (Chapter 8)
EXCUSE ME? His fears are valid even after the basket run trial but the guilt trip? Wouldn't it be better if all three of you went instead of just Cerise? And Cerise is completely fine with it. Red says nothing does she agree with him? She was crying her eyes out at the idea of her daughter dying by mob a few sentences ago.
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shattersstar · 1 year
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hello!!! just wanted to send in a message that i have a meltdown every time I read one of your Jason pieces; so freaking good! its really special to find writers who can really get a feel for Jason without making him sound like a goofy caricature of a y/a trope or like. an incel LMAO. would love to see more of your thoughts or headcanons on Jason's opinion on college! I think he's expressed some sort of desire to attend university, but yk. the whole vigilante thing kinda screws with it. thanks again :)
college/university hcs + jason todd
a/n: aw tysm that’s so nice to hear <33 ive always wanted to know what ppl think of my take on jason bc yeah the fandoms consensus is not always. my fave. to say the least. dnejjfjdjd but im glad u enjoy it!! this was also a greatly timed ask bc im working on smth that has a section of robin jason talking abt his life n college so im gonna save some of my thoughts for when that comes out but…
i do think it’s definitely something jason’s always been interested even if his relationship with post secondary school has been fluid to say the least. sort of like: i might have a chance if i get a scholarship, to not even in school, to having a shot at going to any school, to missing out on that part of his life in favour of vigilantism and revenge
with his past briefly out of the way i definitely see jason being that person who just Attends lectures even if he isn’t enrolled. he’d go to classes with friends or someone he’s seeing if he had the time. but if anything, jason would take a course just because he finds it interesting. he’d sit in the back of the class and he 100% takes notes even if there’s no reason
if he is serious about going back to school i do stand with majority rule that he’d probably be an english/lit major.
i like to imagine jason did attempt to go to university after everything went down with bruce when he first came back though. a little scorned and confused about his place in everything. i could see him trying to play the part of someone normal and ordinary, what did people his age do again? oh yeah, go to school or leave the city.
i think he’d originally take something a bit more serious, respectable even. law, engineering, business, anything to emulate some version of himself bruce had expected jason to become. i think jason also knowing dick refused, finally agreed, then dropped out of uni would fuel him to go to spite his older brother and appease bruce even if it wasn’t conscious. like it’s an added bonus if jason really thought abt it (which he won’t ofc)
back to school: being forced to take those required liberal art courses would remind jason of what he loved in high school. he loved english class on whole and arguing with the history teacher and picked up languages surprisingly well that he did both spanish and french for a time. and while he really thought about switching majors he ultimately dropped out because he was still playing pretend and into the hands of a man his relationship was beyond complicated with.
i think jason would return when he was a few years older, a little less angry and less focused on his connection to bruce/batman. and this is when he’d major in english, im not enough of a lit baddie to pick a focus but im sure y’all can imagine <33
he’d start with night courses bc he’s already used to being awake so whats a 7-10pm lecture before patrol.
it only became an issue when courses jason’s wanted to take wouldn’t work with his nighttime plan. he started really feeling the burden of living a double life in those moments. and definitely gets antsy in class/studying when an important case is taking up his mind.
he was fortunate to take online classes that interested him greatly too but when school started becoming priority jason would have a moment with himself to decide if he wanted to spend a few years pursuing his degree with a bit more focus or go back to his life before.
and i cannot say what decision i think he’d make bc i know jason gains satisfaction from life by being red hood and cannot fully give it up but he’s also one of those people that is always dying to learn more, to know more and exercise his brain. it’s why his electives r insanely difficult mathematic courses or science labs bc everything interests him. the study of art just moves him a little more which is why he majors in it.
some other points:
- he’s not a fan of the education system and even if money is not a problem jason doesn’t rlly care abt going to elite schools and will gladly transfer around to take courses he wants or depending on where he’s currently is in the world. he’s done classes at most of gothams community colleges and at least one ivy league school
- jason’s doesn’t care how long it takes no finish school either, which works well with his vigilantism. he’s always had an unstable relationship with schooling and completing school in its expected time/format never appealed to him. jason will do it how it wants because he can :)
- he’s a handwritten notes kinda guy but understands that typing is more efficient
- will spend time at uni (and public) libraries just for funsies like he’ll b investigating new drug rings next to people studying for their midterms
- like most of us he really hates group assignments bc he’s too much of a control freak and will do all the work, hand it in and email the prof abt doing it alone without even contacting his group members bc he’s a little shit like that
- but will help in tutoring programs, be a note taker for certain courses and if jason’s fully dedicated to school he might just TA <3
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insertlovelyperson · 8 months
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We talk about this in a disorganized way on here and on the server (and obviously some version of your hc is in your fic) but what do you think the counselors’ families are like? Whose parents are still married, divorced, dead? Who has siblings and who doesn’t? Who’s best friends with their siblings and who has major sibling rivalry?
Great ask! Really interesting to think about since we don’t get a whole lot of insight into the counselor’s families… 
Starting off with Ryan since he’s probably the one with the most info in game: absent mother (root of his abandonment/trust issues) and dead father. In his conversation with Chris about animation school (unless I’m mistaken) Ryan mentions his mom but not his dad: “Whether or not I should like, leave my sister with my grandparents… and my mom’s not exactly around so…” I just don’t think he’d be worried about leaving his sister with his grandparents and not his mother if she was still present in his life. And the fact that he doesn’t even mention his dad suggests to me that the man probably died when he was younger, and might be the reason he latches onto Chris as sort of a surrogate father-figure. I think he’d have a good relationship with his sister before camp (outside of standard sibling squabbles), but after the night everything goes down, it becomes strained for a couple of years.
Next, onto a head canon partially brought on by the cut-content leaks: Abi’s parents are divorced (and she’s a middle child of three girls—but that’s just me). It was a nasty divorce the resulted in a split-custody agreement for alternating weeks. She preferred staying at her dad’s house because her mom liked her older sister more than her. And while her dad likes her little sister more, he wasn’t as obvious with the favoritism (that, and she actually has a good relationship with her little sister).
In a somewhat similar vein: Nick is the youngest of three boys that were all born within one or two years of each other. And similar to Abi, he often feels like his parents (happily married, unlike hers) prefer them over him. Maybe the eldest is some star, prodigy athlete and the second eldest is this genius that ends up being valedictorian. And Nick’s just… Nick. And it’s not his brothers’ fault that he feels this way, or even their parent’s favoritism, but he can’t help but resent them a little for it (maybe not helped by the fact the first girl he ever dated broke up with him and started dating his brother, and then his entire extended family made him feel like the crazy one for being upset by that). I could see him making an AITA post on reddit about it and then going no-contact for a year.
Jacob is the baby of the family. I see him having an older sister (older by 7+ years) and a single mom. And while he rolls his eyes and bemoans all the ‘nagging,’ he wouldn’t change it for anything.
Laura strikes me as someone who has an authoritative father and a mother that grins and bears it. And while she loves her mom, she can’t help but sometimes resent her for not sticking up for us. When she’s old enough, she leaves and never looks back. Meanwhile: Max is an only child with a great relationship with his parents. When Laura moves out, she moves in with them and they treat her like their own daughter (in law).
Emma is also an only child, but unlike Max, she has a less than stellar relationship with her parents. I feel like her mom and dad would be really devoted to their work, and while it earns them an extremely comfortable (and wealthy) lifestyle, she can’t help but feel like an afterthought sometimes. That being said, it doesn’t stop them from being overbearing when she needs it the least, and without any siblings to help shoulder the burden that that attention brings... its like a pendulum swinging from each extreme: suffocation or isolation.
I feel like I switch up Dylan’s family dynamic with each new WIP I start. In the first (very, very canon divergent) fic I ever wrote, it was an absent mother and a present (but emotionally distant) father. And while that interpretation is very near and dear to my heart, I feel like it’s not really cognizant of the canon version of him. To me, he grew up in a small town in the midwest as the only child of a pastor. He was in the church choir, attended every bible study, and told everyone who’d listen that he planned on being a youth minister. He was even in the Boy Scouts!  As soon as he turned eighteen, he packed a bag, took his cat, and left his parents a note with some things he thought they ought to know about him. He’s pretty sure they never bothered looking for him after that. He thinks they might’ve even told people he’d died.
Kaitlyn is the oldest of four (all brothers), and she has a pretty solid relationship with both parents. Her mom’s a mechanic at a local auto body shop that taught her how to shoot, and her dad’s a mild mannered accountant. She loves them all more than anything (though, she’s the closest with her dad). 
In conclusion, Kaitlyn and Max @ everyone else:
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wrenreid · 2 years
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Off Limits
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content warnings: none(?)
Part Thirteen
Off limits. He said specifically that she was off limits. Sure, he was talking to Morgan, but it applied to everyone in the room - hell, probably everyone on the continent.
And I kissed her.
Because I’m an idiot.
A doe-eyed-seduced idiot.
Hotch might literally kill me if he finds out. Like she said, she was raised my a man who carries two guns.
He could play it off as a case incident, convince the whole team that it’s the truth.
I’m being paranoid. If there’s one thing Jade is not going to do, it’s tell her dad about what happened.
And she was right. It was just kissing. Of course, it was wrong, but it was just kissing. It’s not like we were sleeping together or even touching like that. It was perfectly PG 13. Not a reason for me to be murdered, and not a reason for me to feel guilty.
But I do. I feel like I’ve just done something awful. I lie in bed, my stomach aching. It’s been an hour since I left Hotch’s apartment. 60 minutes since my lips were on his daughter’s.
My mind races with thoughts that attempt to justify actions. I compile a brief list.
One: alcohol was in my system. Alcohol causes us to do things that we usually wouldn’t, especially kissing.
Now, sure, I only had one drink, and it was hours before the incident, but I’m still adding it to the list.
Two: the door step affect. We were right in front of the door of her apartment. It’s a classic, a cliche move.
Three: we were around people kissing at the party. Seeing them was a psychological trigger that caused me to kiss her. It’s science.
My justification list is short, but I think it’s somewhat valid. These three reasons make me feel slightly less guilty about kissing her.
I also feel guilty for the way I left. It wasn’t the nicest thing to kiss someone then leave because it was wrong. It was hypocritical on my part. But I wasn’t wrong about it being wrong.
I just hope she’s not mad. She was upset, I could tell.
———
I’m an idiot. I totally misread the entire situation we’ve had going on, didn’t I?
He doesn’t like me like that. I’m just his boss’s daughter. Like I always have been. He kissed me because… well, I don’t know. Maybe it was the door step affect. Which is totally a real thing. We were at my door, and it was awkwardly silent, and I moved closer so he kissed me… because that’s the thing you do. It’s a total cliche.
Sleep doesn’t come too easily for me, especially since I can still taste him on my lips. He tasted like a mixture of mint and beer, and it actually isn’t a bad combination.
It’s not until at least three hours after he left that I get to sleep.
“When are you headed back?” Dad asks me in the kitchen while he cooks Jack and me breakfast.
I take a small breath. “I’ve actually decided I’m not going back to New York.”
I think Aaron Hotchner nearly had a heart attack at his still youthful, healthy age. “You’re dropping out of college? What about law school? What about you’re future. Jade Brooke Hotchner, you better be joking right now, or so help me-”
“Jesus, Dad, chill out,” I toss my hands up in defense, a slight laugh stifling from me. “I’m not dropping out of school. I’m going online for the rest of the semester. I’ve already talked to the dean and my professors. They understand the toll a death takes on a family.”
“And law school?” He questions, his voice much softer than a moment ago.
“Georgetown has a great law school, and it happens to be only 30 minutes away from home,” I say, a small smile on my face.
My dad ponders all of this information. He sighs, then looks to me with saddened brown eyes. “If this is because of me, I promise I’m okay with you being gone. It’s for your future, Jade. I can take care of everything else.”
“Well, yeah, it’s a little about you. I know it’s easier on you when I’m here. But I also miss you. And I miss the little shit over there,” I motion toward Jack who is coloring aggressively. “And New York’s great, but I like D.C.”
The smile that grows on my father’s face nearly makes me cry. He wraps his arm around me, kissing my head. “God, Jade, you don’t know how happy this makes me. I’ve missed you so much.”
I wipe away a little tear, because he definitely just made me cry. “Ew don’t get all emotional,” I tease, sniffling.
He rolls his eyes and our morning plays out as normal, but I can sense the relief and joy radiating through him.
There’s a knock on the door around noon. Dad and Jack are out on a quest to find lunch to pick up for us, so it’s just me in my pug pajama pants and a cup of coffee.
“Spencer?” I look at him questioningly after opening the door.
“Can we talk?” He asks, playing with his hands.
“About?”
“Jade,” he gives me that sideways-head-tilt look that says ‘You know exactly what I’m talking about.’
I let him in, and we sit on the couch.
“I’m sorry,” Spencer admits.
“For kissing me or for leaving abruptly and hypocritically?”
He sighs. “All of the above.”
I dart my eyes in his direction. “State your case.”
“It shouldn’t have happened, and it was wrong, but it was not considerate of me to leave the way I did,” he explains.
I think on his statement and nod. Acceptable. I suppose. “You’re forgiven.”
A small smile creeps up onto his pink lips. The pink lips that were on mine no less than twelve hours ago. Fuck. No not this again.
“Friends again? I mean that’s what we were, right?” Spencer laughs nervously.
“Right, friends,” I nod. “We’re friends.”
“Good,” he smiles, bumping my shoulder with his.
“Good,” I repeat, letting a small smile overtake my lips too.
“I can’t believe I convinced you to go to a party,” I laugh, looking up at him.
“You must be some wizard or something.”
I roll my eyes. “Or maybe I’m just a really good pre-law student.”
His smile grows, and there’s a tugging in my chest.
“Hey, sweetheart,” my dad comes into my room around 2am. I’m falling asleep, but not quite there yet.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, mumbling.
“Yeah. JJ just called me about a case. We have to leave now, it’s urgent,” he tells me.
I rub my eyes. “Oh. Okay.”
“Text me if you or Jack need anything. I love you.”
“I love you too, Dad,” I say.
He and his pre-packed bag leave the apartment quietly. I sigh softly and lay back down.
Before I can fall asleep, I text my dad a “Be safe.” message. And then I text Spencer the same one.
I hardly look at my phone, especially on cases, but I’m glad I do. Jade’s name is written on my screen along with me words, “Be safe.”
Those two simple words, those six letters, draw a smile on my lips. I don’t know why, but her thinking to send me that makes me happy. But we’re friends, so of course she’d want me to be safe. And by the looks of it, she sent her dad the same message.
Yet, the simple text message makes this way-too/early jet ride bearable. My head leans against the window as Hotch goes over the case. We all give our input and pre-mature theories as we wait for landing.
its my 18th bday🥳🥳
happy criminal minds evolution day!!!
fourteen
tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @scarredelirium @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz @tiredbut-here @skulzombiw @lena-1895 @eevee0722 @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @daydreamingqueen1 <3
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oneokkombat · 1 year
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I truly made this acc so I can ramble about my favs so I’ll start with random headcanons for my girlfriend Johnny cage <3
-> I believe he gets REALLY pissed when he gets called a “nepobaby” or something along those lines by the media because 1) his family wasn’t famous before him and 2) he is really prideful of the work he has put to get to where he is.
-> daddy issues..mommy issues…everything issues (it was obvious 😭) I do believe while he has complica feelings about it he does get along with his mom, keeps it very superficial tho. He definitely hates his brother and dad.
-> his parents divorced while he was a teen and it was MESSY part of the reason why his divorce with Cris crushed him so much was because he felt just like his dad
-> his family (including extended family) always had a very obvious preference for his brother, part of it is because growing up his brother was the more “charismatic” one and also he was doing excellent at school while Johnny struggling in most of his classes and he was an awkward kid.
-> also his family took his brother more seriously because he pursue “serious” careers while Johnny always wanted to be an actor.
-> part of me believes johnny was a child actor and that was probably the worst period of his life, he got taken advantage of not only by older directors and producers but also his own family.
-> all of the money he did as a child actor was never used on him, not even for important things, most of it went to payments for all the debts they had (courtesy of his dad) and the left over was focused on payment for his brother’s college since he was studying for becoming a lawyer (courtesy of his mother since “Jimmy is becoming a lawyer to help the law he’s priority”)
-> to elaborate more on his and his mom’s relationship: I do believe she later own realized her own mistakes although since she’s stubborn as hell she never properly apologized and also realized wayy to late so the damage is already very done. He still loves her dearly because she did showed more care to him than his dad, it’s just too complicated so he rather keep her at arms length.
-> since going through the burden of child acting, he have always advocated for them, when he has young co-stars he always treats them with respect and it’s even super friendly with them joking around and even offering them junk food or desserts. A popular backstage story about him is the time he work with a crew of teen actors and after a hard day of filming he took them to an arcade and paid for absolutely everything, till this day even after the kids grew up they still recall that story with fondness.
-> another popular story of his was when he stood up for a kid who was being treated unfairly by the studio of one of his films, stoping the whole production until the issue got solved and the kid was ok.
-> I just think Johnny likes kids man, he’s like the weird but cool uncle, he is lowkey afraid of being a father for the fear he will end up like his
-> in a funnier note, in his universe he was the one who said the legendary Tom hardy quote: “I’m an actor, of course i had gay sex”
-> bisexual Johnny 100% he’s not even officially out but everyone and their mother knows
-> he was in the “my wife and I saw you from across the bar” situation with a popular Hollywood couple but he won’t say who..
-> he met Cris when he was still a unknown actor, she was the producer’s assistant in the short film he was in, she was the first person who not only saw through his bs but also actually believed he was going to be a big actor one day, definitely one of his closest friends before dating. Unfortunately we all know how that ended..
-> I do believe some day long after their divorce Johnny does reach out and apologizes, they definitely never go back to date since she moved on and is genuinely happier with her new partner, but they slowly rebuild their friendship, at the end they were friends first and foremost.
-> Cris and him definitely gossip a lot after rebuilding their friendship, she constantly pokes fun at him once she figures who is his crush 👀.
-> he definitely has a big crush on kenshi, it’s almost ridiculous, sadly he is severely emotionally repressed (just like his man) and thinks kenshi deserves someone better than him he also still believes kenshi blindness it’s his fault for being too weak oops
That’s all for now!!
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choicesmc · 2 months
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tell me about rin's backstory pls
ALRIGHT
this took me a while because I wanted to get it just right
Starla Day nee Bishop (Rin's mom) was married to an active duty military officer who was deployed elsewhere. Around a year into their marriage, Starla had a boyfriend that her husband knew nothing about and within the next two years Starla was pregnant with Rin. And since her husband wasn’t around, it was pretty easy to hide her pregnancy from Jackson Day. However, pretty quickly Starla ran into a teeensy problem. Hospital bills were far harder to hide as the pregnancy progressed and a birth certificate would blow this secret wide open. So, what does she do to avoid these? 
Easy. 
Avoid hospitals and do a home birth. (With a hired midwife paid in cash only.)
Needless to say, Starla did not elect to get Rin a birth certificate D: which. which. was a Not Good Idea. (minor sidenote: Rin isn’t Rin’s name, her birth name was Renee Day)
No birth certificate = no formal schooling of any sort so Rin is homeschooled instead. Under someone more responsible, this wouldn’t be a bad choice but I hope I’ve established that Starla is anything but responsible. 
(sidenote rn: Starla as a mother was incredibly inconsistent. Sometimes she adored Rin and absolutely showered her in praise and adoration + sometimes she hated Rin so much she’d ignore and punish her harshly. <- terrible inconsistencies led to Rin developing an incredible attachment to Starla + always trying to ‘stay on her good side’ <- you woulda called her a mama’s girl if you saw her then.) 
Well, this scheme actually works right until Jackson comes home a little earlier than he should be and finds a four year old in his house and his wife shagging up with a stranger in the room next door. 
Starla + Rin + Mother’s Partner get kicked out with Starla + Rin making their way to Starla’s mother’s home. The divorce begins only a few weeks later. 
This is a terrible time for everyone involved!! Starla + her mother, Sherryl, had a horrible relationship. Starla got married straight out of high school in order to leave home + the only reason she’s back is that she has no where else she can go. 
Sherryl is overly critical + jumps straight to the jugular from day one. She doesn’t want Starla home. She didn’t even know Starla hadn’t gotten married until her prodigal daughter showed up on her doorstep six years after running away with a child in tow and a smirk so mean + smug it made Starla see red. 
During this time, Rin continued to be homeschooled. It got a little better though, maybe. Her mother’s inconsistency had melted into pure negligence tinged with a little hatred. But her grandmother did make sure she had a better curriculum now. Rin learnt to read, write, and do basic math during the five years she lived with her grandma. 
 After five years, Starla decided she couldn’t do it with her mother anymore and took Rin with her. They were officially homeless and without Sherryl to distract her mother’s anger, Rin ended up being the usual recipient of Starla’s anger. (<- has the scars to prove it + probably emotional baggage too…) 
And things were just like this, for a couple years (~2/3) until the homeless camp she was staying in was raided, her mom bolted, and Rin finds herself arrested. <- The trouble comes when they’re trying to book her but can’t find any identification in the state system. 
After combing through the state records with all the details they could get (<- Rin isn’t sure how old she is sho she can’t give them a year she was born so they have to make do with a rough time frame utilizing medical personnel advice…) and still not turning anything up, the police figure Rin’s just undocumented and toss her over to immigration court to figure it out.
Now. In US Immigration Court, you are not guaranteed the right to an attorney (<- only applies to criminal law) so 13 year old Rin is on her own in pleading for a right to stay in the US against an experienced lawyer. 
Rin doesn’t know wtf a citizenship is. Immigration law is second only to tax law in complexity. Rin, metaphorically speaking, is fuuuucked. With a capital F. 
As luck would have it, (she’s owed a little bit, okay?) Rin’s case is handed off to an immigration law clinic + she gets two good lawyers. Awesome. Perfect even. 
Long story short, Rin goes from facing deportation to who knows where to having a SIJ (special immigrant juvenile) Status and simply waiting for a spot to open for her. It only takes a couple years back and forth… to get approved and now she gets to wait five, ten? Years until the status is actually conferred to her. 
(under the banner is a more technical explanation) 
Starting off, Rin’s lack of birth certificate was key. The very first thing anyone would do is attempt to find it. Because if they do then the rest of this is unnecessary. Rin, by birth, is a US citizen. 
But Rin is thirteen and doesn’t have her birth certificate + isn’t sure it actually exists. So they try to find her mother to no avail before changing directions and trying to get a hold of Sherryl, Rin’s grandmother, instead. 
Which is another dead end because remember earlier: 
She didn’t even know Starla hadn’t gotten married until her prodigal daughter showed up on her doorstep six years after running away with a child in tow and a smirk so mean + smug it made Starla see red.
Sherryl can’t help. And Rin never went to school. There are, quite literally, no legal records of her birth and her life up until now and the only person who can testify to her birth is her mother who no one can get a hold of. 
(minor sidenote: on the plus side, Rin gets issued a Letter of No Record stating that they can’t find any information on her so now she has a legal record… stating that she has no others 😭) 
And no one knows what to do. Rin's in a limbo.
 SIJS has a couple requirements: (this is my simplified understanding + yes, i am taking a couple liberties)
You must be under the jurisdiction of a juvenile court in whatever state you’re applying in when the application is made (for some states the age cut off is 18, for others 21). 
The applicant must have been abused, abandoned, or neglected by one or both parents. 
It is in the applicant's best interest to remain in the US. 
The applicant must be physically in the US during the filing, adjudication, and adjustment period of the application.
1 + 2 + 3 + 4 can be easily met. The problem is that SIJS is not an initial status. It's something that you change status to. So, immigration prosecution argues that without an initial status Rin is still deportable while her team argues that Rin is an extremely special case and (at minimum) should be held within the US until her mother could be found (<- rin's not a fan of this plan for various reasons that I won't elaborate here because this is getting far too long)
its hell, y'know. Rin doesn't know any other life. Doesn't even really know why she's here and by the time the systems done and spits her out --she's approx. 20/21 (<- that's ~seven years going back and forth for her now precarious position)
Rin's tired man.
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