#and she FREAKED and i was like 'i live in the nicest neighborhood and this is at like 10am okay chill' lmfao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jasonsthots · 3 years

Text

Almost hiding the darkness within

I have no clue how to post this properly but here we go-

Big thanks to @jaybirdsdarling like without her I definitely couldn't have made this or even posted it so thanks babes 😘

Warnings- smut- lots of it, yandere peoples, slight noncon to dubcon? Violence, slight gun play, voyeurism, cuckolding--- basically bring your holy water (there might be more but not sure 😚)

It all started with the landing. Ya' know the one. That superhero landing. The one that looks like it really hurts the knees. When that, a brown leather jacket, red helmet wearing man landed like that in front of her like a human shield. Those that had been trying to mug her, knew it was over before it had started. Before they had a chance to run, he was on them. Limps, noses, all broken when he was done.

When he was done, he just simply stood up and turned to her. She was smiling dumbly, she knew that. Her cheeks hurt, dried tears stained her cheeks, nose stuffed from running and she was sure her hair was a mess from the tugging the men had done. But she didn't care, her savor was right there-

"Miss, always put your money away inside when it's given, not when you're outside. Honestly. I thought this was common knowledge." His mechanical voice rang through the alley as he passed by, his back now to her as he looked over one last time. "And especially not in an alleyway with 100 different kinds of graffiti." And with that, he grappled away.

Y/n's pout was deep as she looked on. Giving a swift kick to one of the robbers that laid on the pavement. "Maybe next time..."

_______

It was like she had planned it. He had to start watching her. He had to. She was like a magnet for trouble. It was almost a nightly thing. Like she would purposely find the most dangerous part in Gotham to go and act like a ditz. She wasn't though. She knew better. He'd seen it. The simple smacks she gave to guys at the diner who got too handsy. She wasn't defenseless. Yeah those were small slaps to the hands, but they were a sign that she definitely could handle herself enough to know not to go into that damn alley. And there she went. In the damn alley. So like he had for the past few weeks, he swung down.

He should know better. He has bigger problems. Like that big fuckin' mafia guy who's selling drugs, weapons and people for gods sake. But there he was. Once again, kicking ass for the same girl, night after night. The simple finger point doing nothing as this time, she walked up- and grabbed it. Bringing his hand close to her face and resting it on her cheek. An unfamiliar touch that had his heart swelling and any bit of anger he held to her disappear in an instant.

She looked up to where his white covered eyes were and smiled, the grime on her face and wrecked hair not taking from the beauty she possessed. Her eyes twinkled under the dim Gotham lights, her smile twisted, breathtaking. "You always seem to be here just in time huh?"

A groan was heard from the men at their feet, earning a kick from her.

Jason's eyebrow tweaked at her action, a small smile creeping to his lips.

"Seems like it, you should be more careful, doll."

A nickname that came so easily. Her heart accepted it with open arms as she pushed her body closer to his, craning her neck back to look at him properly. "But then, how else would I see you Red?"

The man smirked under his helmet, a low chuckle coming out almost like static from the voice changer. Him too taking a step forward. "So, you admit you do this on purpose?"

A low groan erupted from the men again, this time Red kicking them to silence. Y/n hummed and rested her other hand on his waist, their chest pressed gently to each other. "Is that bad? I didn't really know how to work a signal in the sky, so I settled."

"On getting mugged?" The black haired man asked amused, the girl shrugging in response with a small giggle. Jason couldn't hold the smile that spread across his cheeks as he finally snapped the helmet off, the domino mask coming as a disappointment to the shorter girl. Still, she appreciated having something more than an off putting helmet to get off to from now on.

"It worked didn't it?" She spoke softly as she caressed his now exposed cheek.

"There were safer ways." He spoke back, barely above a whisper as their faces neared. Jason felt like his heart would pound out of his chest. Did she really do that for just a chance to see him? She... put her life on the line- for the possibility to see him? That-

That was the nicest thing anyone had done for him.

"Worth it."

Just like that, those last few inches were gone, their lips finally meeting in a soft, heart warming kiss.

Cough. Cough. "Fuckin'-- psychopaths- uggh-" Kick.

_________

Weekly visits became nightly, nightly became daily, and before they knew it, they lived together. Suddenly it became as easy as breathing, being together. Y/n's dumb plans didn't need to happen to get his attention, he was already there. She had his number. She had him in her bed. She had him. Jason knew this. And he was thrilled. He was worried at first. Was he moving too fast? Slow? No. She reassured him. It was just the right pace. She felt the same. They felt like all the pieces to each other's puzzles were finally falling into place.

Until the day happened.

Y/n, was, to put it lightly, odd. The girl had intentionally gotten robbed multiple times just to talk to the guy for god's sake. This, of course, led to her developing a certain set of.....skills.

See, to the common eye it would have looked like she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But she always knew when to go. She knew when he was watching her and when there was something....more important than her that needed help. So when she felt a new set of eyes on her. She knew something was up. It wasn't the other Batfamily members. They honestly....had a hard time wrapping their heads around her and deemed her tolerable at best. No. These were prying eyes.

These eyes didn't leave her. No, no. They stayed. For weeks. She felt them. They were learning. Listening to everything she said, everything she did, seeing everywhere she went. They picked it all up. They were picking up any information from when she got off work to how long she took showers.

And she liked it.

She felt guilty. She felt dirty. She didn't know why she didn't tell Jason. He was her everything after all, and boy would he be furious if he were to learn such things were taking place.....yes....furious.

Boy would she not want that.

So there she was, her wrist tied to a cold metal chair. Her struggles are no longer a problem, her shit talking too due to the gag they placed after the hundredth "when my boyfriend finds out" shtick. Her blindfold long removed as the man responsible sat in front of her, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked at every detail of her exposed skin. Her dress shredded into pieces from the whole ordeal. Y/n held back the smile that tried to spread as she saw him shuffling uncomfortably as his eyes raked over her lower half, her thighs that were spread wider from being tied to opposite legs. Her lower region on display.

The man cleared his throat as he scooted closer, his legs wedging in between her spread ones. The light shone perfectly to every curve of his dark covered face. The only seen color being his eyes and the tips of his cheeks. "So. Shackin' up with Red huh? It must be fun. I imagine you play his therapist a lot? Heard he has alotta daddy issues."

The tied girl let out a huff as she turned her head. How dare he speak like that. He has no idea what Jason has been through. To put it so lightly.

The man tilted to the side to meet her gaze that had turned cold. He laughed. "Oh what? Did I hurt your feelings? Suddenly you feelin' tough or somethin'?" He leaned forward. And that's when she finally gasped. The gag of course muffled it, adding to the already hard to breathe problem she was having. "Yeah. Don't be. Ain't in any position to be acting all high and mighty."

When his hand raised on to her shoulder, his thumb brushing against her pluses before wrapping his hand around her neck to face him, her mind couldn't care less about the man getting physical. The only thing she could think of was what she was looking at. How....she knew how. There was a man who looked like a human but was actually an alien flying around, anything was possible.

So this was the man. She had of course heard of him. Not only from her significant other, but she did use to live in a not so friendly neighborhood. Even then, if you didn't know who this was, well, welcome to Gotham, where there's a Bat running around and a man whose face is literally a black skull. Yes. Black mask.

She mumbled.

The man sighed heavily and took the gag out. "If you say one more thing about the fuckin' Redhood- I will say fuck this whole plan and just send your head instead."

"Just wanted to say I didn't know death took vacations."

The nicely suited man barked a laugh as he stood and straightened his jacket. Y/n's smirk fell as he lowered his face to level with her, his hand resting next to her head dangerously close. "It's going to be fun breaking you."

____________

Jason was losing it. He had pretty much torn the house brick by brick searching for her. His love. His doll. His darling. She wasn't here. She hadn't been for days. Weeks? God what was he kidding. He knew exactly how long. He felt it. When she was taken. Like a sixth sense. He knew something was up. And sure enough, when he got home- she was gone.

He should have put the tracker in. He had talked to her about it, and she agreed to do it. It was safer. But he just...never got around to actually doing it. He had thought about performing some light surgery on her arm, nothing major, just putting it in her arm. That was a bit much. He had thought about putting it into a needle and doing it that way. Decided he didn't want to hurt her. Wanted to put it in her food. Didn't want her to choke. Thought about in a small box! Didn't want her to freak out and think he was proposing. So- here he was. Panicking because he had no idea where she was, if she was alive, and why she was even gone in the first place.

Jason tried to keep his mind from going to a dark place. The place that wondered if it was on purpose. She'd done it before. Stressed him out by putting her life on the line. He thought it was cute almost. "It's not cute anymore." He spoke to no one. The house was in ruins. His fists were bloodied and bruised from all the ass he'd been beating. There were no leads for weeks. Every stone was turned but nothing made sense. Friends couldn't get a word in, Jason created this whole new world where it was just him. "It's not fuckin'- cute- any- more-!" Each scream coming with a new hit, objects and people blending together. He was getting to that place.

What if she actually left? Not a game she played. Not some weird attention seeking act. She.....left.

It wasn't looking good, and it just kept getting worse.

__________

Her h/c sweat covered hair was swooped to the side, her fight dying down. There was no use, it was going to happen either way. "C'mon, don't pretend you don't like it, doll."

She winched. "What? Isn't that what he called you? Doll? Nothing special about it, you are a fucktoy after all." A laugh ripped from Roman's bare chest at his own twisted joke.

Yeah. There he was. Proud of the almost broken woman in front of him, naked and in charge of the situation. The blinking light at the end of the bed was a reminder of how fucked she really was. Both figuratively and literally. His fingers were gilding through her folds with an ease she was ashamed of. The sounds made making her stomach turn. She didn't like this. She wasn't turned on. She didn't want him......

These were the things she used to tell herself.

She was ashamed at how quickly she had felt herself give in. Was that what she always wanted? To be used as some fucktoy for some scumbag that hurt and used her and others however he wanted?

God no. She couldn't have.

She wanted Jason.

Then why....

Why did she spread her legs wider?

They spread as far as she could get them, her soaked core on full display for the camera to see, the man behind it zooming in as they themselves got closer. Getting a quiet growl like warning from Roman not to get too close.

The moans that followed were nothing short of pornographic. Her back was arched off the bed as her legs shook, those wrist restraints keeping her from getting a hold on the man who was putting her through euphoric torture. "Roman..." Her whimper sent a shock straight to the man's cock.

On full attention it stood, bobbing up and down as he moved to unhook her, repositioning her to face the camera on all fours. Her face was.....sinful. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth gaping opening, her hair tousled. Her body was even still shaking from her previous orgasms leading to her almost falling as Roman began his painfully fast and hard thrust. Her moans rippled straight from her chest out of her throat. His hand wrapped around her hair and yanked it back, her chest heaving and back painfully arched. Sweat dripped off their bodies from what seemed like hours long of pure fucking. His other hand came to her front to rub at her clit in fast motions that had her hips bucky in an unruly way as they couldn't find out to get away or push back. Opting for the latter.

She met his thrust hungrily every time as best she could, the room filled with moans and the sound of skin slapping together at harsh speeds. Roman's pace was unforgiving, it didn't let up after the next orgasms hit her.

"Where should I do it now, huh? You want me to cum in your tight hole again? You can't waste it like you did last time though. If you do, you won't be getting my cock for a long time. And a whore needs their masters cock now don't they?"

Y/n's mouth formed wide Os as she tried to form some words to satisfy him. "Fuck- yes Roman- fuck I promise-" Her moans ripped through. "T-to no-not waste any-of- ohh~"

This seemed to be enough because the next thing she knew, she felt it. His cock twitched violently as his hips lost rhythm, his cum spilling inside of her, filling her once more. His grip on her scalp burned, but she didn't stop from that twisted and sinister smile to spread on her face as she grinded her hips back. A sharp slap being delivered to her ass cheeks as Roman barked out at her, "Stop being such a cock whore." This threatening tone dropped almost immediately as he soon laughed, grappling her chin and tilting her back to kissing her, a sloppy wet heat filled kiss. "Now that video's a keeper."

_____________

Jason finally lost it. Be felt dumb. He felt hurt. He felt utterly betrayed. His sweet, poor darling- the actual fucking cumslut. For Roman. Sionis. He had been hunting her down for months. And there she was. Accepting- no asking- no- begging for Black masks cock. For his cum. The things she did for Jason, she was now doing for that scum. He was pissed. How fucking dare she? After all he's done for her? No- he couldn't think that way. There was no way. It was his darling. His doll. She loved him too much for that. No. It was all an act. It had to be. She would never do that to him.

This is what he wanted to believe as he watched the hour long videos that kept making their way to him. Her lips wrapped hungerly around another man's cock. Being pulled away just for her to stick her tongue out to get another taste, receiving a slap to her cheek. "Don't be such a greedy slut." Was Romans words.

Videos on videos of Roman fucking Jason's girl. Cum filling up every hole the scum could want, all eagerly accepted from the girl he swore would be crying to be saved, instead relishing in the fuck fest she was dealt.

His fist clenched around his cock, furiously stroking away. God he missed her.

Her face was covered in the white ropes, her mouth taking in as much as it could as Roman pumped himself in her face. Jason fucking hated it. But god did she look fucking hot. He hated it. He hated him. He hated her. But that didn't stop him from unloading on his computer screen. His brow furrowed as pure rage coursed through his blood. He was getting her back. And she would see who she fuckin' really belonged too.

______________

Y/n knew it wouldn't be long. She played with herself, her fingers dancing across her wet slit showing just how wet she was. Her moans gentle as she spread her legs wider for the camera. "C'mon closer, get nice and in there." Her voice coaxed, of course Roman shouting orders for the camera man not to move. Her pout aimed towards the angered man. "Well if you won't let him touch me will you at least? You know I can't do it myself, you ruined me Roman~" She cooed.

The man in question groaned out and walked over, his cock next to her face as he claimed to a kneeling position on the bed. "Well, warm me up first, doll."

"Yes sir~" Her free hand came up to stroke the semi next to her. Her smile was anything but sweet and innocent like she feigned. Her tongue poking out to taste the precum that had been building up from the show. "But it looks like you're already good to go." The wink that came after did something different to Roman. God. When had he become so fuckin' turned on by watching her? When did he get so hard by her just existing? When did he want to see her asking- begging for him and it not being about fuckin' with the hood?

He wasn't sure. But he didn't hate the feeling. Especially when he buried his cock deep inside her. Her legs were spread and the angle was perfect, her back to him and front to the camera. Was this guy a director or what? Surely this would make the hood pissed off. Even if not- damn was she a good fucktoy.

_________

It wasn't the middle of the night. No. It was broad daylight when he broke in. It had taken him way too long for his liking. He had gotten a dozen more videos before he had finally found Black masks place. It's not like he could have asked for backup, they wouldn't understand. Not like they cared for her anyway. No, he had to do it on his own. And damn was that a good idea.

'Cause there he was. Bullets flying everywhere. It didn't matter who, how many. Each one had a special bullet for them in his head. Each one of these fuckers responsible for her kidnapping. Her torture. Torture. That's what it was. She didn't like it. She hated- she hated it. Yeah. She hated it. Was ridiculous how many times he had to remind himself of that. Yeah the videos were convincing. But he knew her better than those videos. He knew she wouldn't actually be begging for scum like that.

"You ruined me, Roman~"

Kept replaying in his head. That same line.

"I'll fucking show you ruined."

_______________

There they were. Two guns. One trained on a man in a designer italian suit. The other trained to an all to calm on the inside girl. "Now now. You wouldn't want to waste your time just by having me kill her would you?" Roman threatened, the gun he held pushing further into the girls head, the same gun Jason had seen her sucking on in multiple videos.

The Y/n's head was throbbing. Not just from the gun in her head but because she was- so excited.

She really played the long game, huh?

Jason clenched the gun tighter. His mask was doing a great job of keeping it together, because he certainly wasn't. "How 'bout you just make this easier for both of us and. Let. Her. Go. Like you said- I don't want to waste my time." Whether you were on the receiving end or not- it sent chills down their spines and a certain tingle down below for the h/c haired girl.

Roman clenched his jaw tight. His arm that's as wrapped around her tighter as he backed up. And backed up. And backed up. "Now now Sionis. I've never taken you for someone who'd rather kill themselves then hand someone over. Must have really gotten desperate." His last words a growl as his eyes flicked to the girl in his arms.

Roman looked down, his arms more....slack as they fell more into a hug from behind. His eyes softened. "You have no idea..." The girl met his eyes with the same fondness.

Red. No not Jason's helmet. The color he saw. Pure rage rippled through him as he pulled the trigger. Not once. Not twice. Over and over and over again, unloading a clip that not only undoubtedly killed Roman ten times over, but regrettably, knocking both out of the large window that laid behind them. As fast as the rage was there it disappeared, leaving only panic as Jason launched out of the window without a thought other than, "God- no!"

Was it?

Worth it? That's what she was thinking. Y/n. As the smirk crept to her face, placing one last kiss on her now corpse kidnapper and lover, she pushed him further, a subtle pay back for his words and treatment to her for the last months she had spent with him. Her arms wide open as he hit the ground first. Her eyes slowly closing, the wind whipping by.

"Worth it."

___________

She was an odd one. The Batfamily deemed her actually crazy. Jason never listened. Why would he? She had such a good heart. She supported him in his vigilante ways. She had even said she might join him. She understood what it took to get what you want. Maybe that's why he wasn't so pissed at her. Because he finally understood as he watched her naked sleeping form on their bed. Right where it belonged. She wanted all of this. He should have seen it. The very first smile that almost hid the darkness within. Twisted, yet so sweet. Like cyanide in candy. He knew from the beginning she wasn't a normal girl.

But then again, he wasn't a normal guy.

But there was still punishment to be dealt.

Y/n awoke with a harsh yank to her ankle, her ass suddenly on the edge of the bed. Forcibly sat up, her eyes level with the stomach of the man she had been missing. Her eyes met the storm that raged through Jason's eyes and he grabbed her chin to look at him. Even out of her peripheral vision she could see he was fully nude, her bottom lip finding a place in between her teeth as a smile took over. "Hey Jay." She cooed.

He was ashamed at how eager his cock was the moment his name left her mouth. His eyes glared daggers at her as his grip tightened. "Don't act like that." She opened her mouth, spewing bullshit like always. But he wouldn't let her. Not this time. "Like you're this innocent sweet heart. No. You're not that are you? You haven't been for a long time, if ever."

She let out a mock offended gasp. "Jay....he did bad things, that has to count for something. He made me do so many bad things to him." She pouted, her puppy dog eyes that would normally get him having no effect- at least not the kind she was hoping for.

His palm slipped from her chin to her neck, lifting her slightly with the force as he bent at the waist. "Baby, I got all the videos. The only forcing I saw was him trying to fit his cock into your tight pussy. But you still begged him for it. Because you wanted it."

He was shocked to see her eyes hood at the memory, her lust filled look deepening. His stomach turning from it. "It did feel pretty good to be stretched out again. It had been so long." Fire burned through him as he practically threw her on the ground to her knees. He didn't let her settle before he had her by the hair, forcing her mouth to open as he shoved his fully ready to go dick down her throat. The action making her gag and fling her hands to his thighs. He caught her hands and held them with one hand while the other dragged her head back and further on his length.

"How fucking dare you?" He spat with venom. "Do you know how fucking worried I was? Huh? Just to find out you're just being a whore----- to that fucking low life!?" Y/n couldn't answer, her throat being abused by his unpleasantly harsh thrust that was gonna make it hard to talk later. Her breathing was already none existent.

"So many fucking weeks." He groaned out, his eyes finally looking down. Her eyes already meeting his stormy blue ones, tears spilling down her cheeks. Her mouth stretched painfully full. But she never made a move to leave. No. She was taking this punishment like a champ. "So many months of me searching for you. Then I see uggh--" Her tongue ran along the under part of his shaft, clearly he wasn't deep enough. So he pushed further. Her breathing became hard with each thrust. "Then he sends those fucking videos. You begged for his cum princess. You fuckin' cried for it. You wanted it all. Inside you. On you. You wanted to taste it mixed with yours. Well don't worry doll." Her lips moved, unable to smile properly around him, her heart swelling. She missed him.

His grip tightened as he leaned down slightly, his cock going impossibly further down, her lips touching the base, breathing no longer an option as he smirked down. "You'll finally get daddy's cum, the cum you really needed. And maybe if you're good, I'll let you cum too, so you can suck it off me again." And with that, he stood up straight, let her catch some of her breath, then fucked her mouth until he felt that much needed relief spill down her throat. Coating the back in white liquid with a loud throaty groan.

He released her head which she immediately swung back, hand to her chest as she greedily gulped down air. But not for a moment longer than needed. She was back in front of him stroking him, her eyes leaking tears as her legs became soaked with the flood that was her arousal. "Thank you sir." She smiled.

Why was he so pissed off at her smile? Because. It was the same smile- the same mouth Roman had used. He needed to make her his all over again. She was his. He picked her up by her arm and tossed her to the bed. "You're not done yet." He gruffed out as he pushed her chest to the bed and pulled her ass up. "How many times?" He asked running his two fingers along her slit collecting all the juices that poured out.

She poked her head around. "I'm....not sure?"

He scoffed. "You let him cum so much in you, you don't even remember?" Her head nodded slowly. He whistled lowly. "Well. I cause that just means we have a long night don't we?"

The excitement- genuine excitement that she radiated was almost enough to make him no longer pissed off. Almost. "But remember." He leaned forward, his hands going to her hips as he massaged them. Placing gentle kisses down her spine and along her shoulder. The more than welcomed touch considering the past few months spent with pure hate fucking and all around rough sex. "You still get punishment for being such a cock whore." Too soon.

His soft touches left almost immediately followed by harsh smacks to the ass. Before she knew it her ass was almost the same red as his helmet, only occasionally palming it to slightly sooth the pain. But this wasn't a pleasant punishment ment to make you more turned on. No. It was harsh and real. She knew she did wrong. She knew she needed to be punished. But boy did it fucking hurt. By the time he was done, she was a sobbing mess. Her ass would be sore for sure. But it was all worth it as the tip of his cock pushed past her puffy folds into her tight heat. A long vulgar moan was realized from both parties as he sat for a moment, relishing in the feeling he missed so much.

His hands gripped her tightly as he pumped every last inch of himself he could. The movement so painfully slow but so necessary. They needed each other. She didn't realize how hard it was being without him. But she was so fuckin' happy when he came to her. She held out and here they were. One again. She loved him, and he loved her. It was fucked up. But- they did.

His veins dragged deliciously inside her tight walls, the tip of his dick hitting that one spot just right. "I- ohhh- missed you Jay-" She moaned out softly.

Jason's pace was slow and gentle, just enjoying the feeling of being inside her. Fuck did he miss her too. "You better have." But it wasn't anymore. The speed picked up along with the force and before she knew it, she was a sobbing blubbering mess. Her only thought- Jason's cock ruining her. "Now. I'm going to ask a question." He reached down and wrapped a hand around her throat, bringing her back up to his chest. The angle made her cry out. "And you better answer the right way." His speed picked up as he guided her back into his thrusts. Each word emphasized with a harsh thrust. "Who do you belong to?"

It was a simple question. One they both knew. One she should have never made him question. One that from day one, they both knew the answer. There was never an option. There would never be an option.

"You." She breathed out, her stomach making a familiar feeling. Her walls clenching and unclenching with every harsh thrust of Jason's ruthless hips.

His grip tightened before flipping her over to her back, her legs immediately being upped to his shoulders, the new position making her scream out in pure pleasure. "Not good enough, doll." He growled, his lips latching onto her neck and shoulder. Marking the answer down...

She gripped the bedsheets as her back arched into him. "I'm yours Jason! Only yours I fuckin' swear it!" And with that, Jason smiled. His hand reached between to rub her clit and a matching pace.

"Good girl. You're mine." He leans down to her ear, pecking behind it. "and I'm yours." One final kiss to her lips and she melted. Her walls squeezed and her eyes rolled back. Her orgasm washed over her like no other as her legs threatened to capture and never let go of Jason. His high soon followed and he let himself go freely in her. Every last drop would stay there. Because she was his. And he was hers.

________

"We're not done yet princess."

#tw dubcon #tw kidnapping #tw yandere #jason todd smut #yandere jason todd #x reader #yandere Roman Sionis #jason todd x reader #crazy reader #tw suicide #tw violence #voyerurism #cuckholding #tw noncon #yandere reader

216 notes · View notes

kaunis-sielu · 3 years

Text

Take the Money: 3

Steve is feeling rather pleased with himself for the next couple of days. He keeps expecting you to call but when you don’t he swings by the building to see if you’ve been around.

“Steve, what’s up?” Wanda asks when he walks in.

“How’s Saint?”

“Fine? A little weirded out.”

“Weirded out?”

“Did she ask you to break into her apartment and give her a bunch of new furniture or did you just do it?”

“It was a gift.”

“Ya came on a bit strong there bud.” She says flipping a page in her magazine.

“What do you mean?”

“Saint has some sort of backstory that I don’t know yet but if what she’s been doing is any indication she didn’t want your gift.”

“What has she been doing?” Wanda laughs and hops off the stool that she’s been sitting on, one that looks familiar.

“Come on.” She says leading him up the stairs and to your apartment. Wanda unlocks your door and steps aside to let Steve see inside. The apartment is as empty as it was the day Steve met you.

“What the hell?” He asks stalking into the apartment, “Was Saint robbed?”

“Nope, she’s been living up to her nickname and has given everything away.”

“She’s been doing what?”

“She knew that Peter and May needed bed stuff, the school needed the couch, one of the guys Louis works with needed a new table so she’s been giving people what they need.”

“This woman.” Steve says shaking his head but there’s a smile on his face. “What else does she do for the community?”

“Buys day old bagels at Pietro’s shop and brings them to work with her for the kids she works with. Um, gets food for those who need it, tutors kids in her apartment, does some soup kitchen thing on Sunday and is the nicest tenant in the building. To all the staff and other people who live here.”

“You mentioned a backstory?”

“One I don’t know.” Wanda says pulling the door closed, “I have a gut feeling just from watching how she interacts with people but you know I’m not one to spread rumors.”

“Wanda-“

“No Steve.” She shuts him down quickly, “if you want to get to know Saint you take the time and do it.”

“You said I’d freaked her out.”

“So apologize dummy.” Wanda is one of the very few people that Steve would allow to speak to him like that.

“When is she usually home?”

“After six and no I will not help you further.” She tells him before flouncing away. Steve growls lowly in irritation but understands her hesitation to get involved.

Besides if he has made you uncomfortable he probably should apologize. He checks in with a few others in the building and gets some of the money he’s owed while he’s at it. He never has to threaten, his reputation is enough, people know not to mess with Captain or Sargent will come next time and it’s not that Buck isn’t nice, he’s just, less nice.

By the time Steve has done all that it’s almost six, you should be home soon. He meanders his way to the stairs and by pure luck you’re climbing the stairs, shoulders drooped and a small frown on your face. You look exhausted but when you hear him and glance up the look changes from tired to concern.

“Saint.”

“I’m sorry. I can pay you back if you want.” You blurt as you come to a halt on the steps.

“What?”

“Wasn’t that you? Who put all that stuff in. My apartment?”

“Yea, but you don’t owe me anything. Why are you sorry?”

“I-um, I gave everything away.”

“For a woman who had pretty much nothing, why?”

“I don’t need much.” You tell him shifting your bag on your shoulder. “Other people needed things more than I did.” He takes a couple steps toward you and you shrink back in on yourself. Steve suddenly knows what Wanda meant by you being skittish. He holds his hands slightly up so that you can see them,

“I was just going to offer to take your bag if you wanted. It looks heavy.”

“Oh, um I’m okay thank you.”

“As for the stuff, that’s on me. I should’ve asked if you wanted the stuff, can I buy you some things? As a gift.”

“I’m okay thank you.”

“So you kept the bed?”

“Uh, no.”

“The couch?” You shake your head no and he raises an eyebrow, “so what are you sleeping on Saint?”

“The couch I traded the one you left for.”

“And how old and terrible is that one?”

“It’s fine.”

“Saint that’s not what I asked.” He says keeping his voice low and gentle, “I just want to help.”

“But why?”

“I’ve heard what you do for the neighborhood, for the kids you work with. I just want to pay it forward.”

“Then pay it forward to the community.”

“Can’t I do both?”

“I just don’t know why you’d want to. I’m nothing special.” Steve would have to disagree with you there. You seem pretty special to him.

“What can I donate money to? Something you’d like to help fund? I can do it in your name.”

“Maybe just call the school. There are lots of kids that need food.”

“Saint’s food shelf?”

“Oh please don’t. I don’t want all the attention.”

“Okay. I’ll donate anonymously, now will you please let me at least buy you a bed?”

“Nothing super expensive.” You concede after a moment. “That’s all I need. Nothing else.” He nods but doesn’t agree, he’s going to furnish that place how you deserve if it’s the last thing he does.

“I’ll let you go, why don’t you find a bed you like and just text me. I’ll take care of everything else.”

“Uh, okay.”

“Before the end of the weekend Saint, or I pick and it’ll probably be too expensive.” He warns with a smile, this gets a little smile back from you. Then he heads down the stairs, when he reaches the bottom he glances back but to his disappointment you’re already gone.

Tag list:

@memyselfandmaddox @thefanficfaerie @patzammit @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @killcomet @thesassmisstress @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @scuzmunkie @giggleberts @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @valsworldofcreativity @strangersstranger

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader imagine #steve rogers imagine #imagine steve rogers x reader #mobster!steve rogers x reader #mobster!steve rogers #mob boss steve rogers #mob boss!steve #mobster!captain america #Steve Rogers x reader #captain america x reader #Steve Rogers x reader au #wanda maximoff #mob au #take the money story

134 notes · View notes

backtobackbakubabe · 3 years

Text

Leaving my Love Behind Part 2

Bakugo x Reader

Words : 2031

Reader hasn’t seen Bakugo in almost ten years but when her boyfriend goes missing she all but begs him to help her find him and get him back from a notorious gang leader.

************************************************************************

You had insisted you could get an uber back to your place and meet Bakugo somewhere afterwards. You honestly just didn’t want him seeing where you lived. It wasn’t in the nicest neighborhood and you knew he would probably think less of you for living in such a shabby place.

“No that doesn’t make any sense. It just waists time. Just let me give you a ride and we can leave from there.” He had his arms crossed now and his feet set. You knew this stance well. It was his ‘I’m a stubborn ass who isn’t going to budge or compromise in way’ stance. You had seen it many times before, whether it be in training or even on one of the many nights you hung out after class.

“We’re not in high school anymore Bakugo. You can’t just stomp your foot and get your way. I told you I’m fine with meeting up later. I need to shower and pack and you’ll just slow me down by nagging me every 5 minutes about how long I’m taking.” You mirrored his stance, looking him dead in the eye.

He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. You both stood there in awkward silence just staring at each other. Neither of you planning to give in.

Out of nowhere he let off a small controlled explosion off of his palm. The sudden loud noise startling you and making you blink.

“HAH! You blinked! I win, I’m driving. Let’s go.” Bakugo was grabbing his keys as he slipped his shoes on.

Your mouth gaped as your eyebrows knit together, “You CHEATER!”

He just shrugged as he held the door open waiting for you to follow him out of the apartment, “Look at who’s stomping their foot now? Stop being such a brat and let’s get moving. You’re burning daylight.”

You made your way to the door, stopping just before you crossed the threshold looking at his feet. “Fine… Just… Just don’t judge me okay? Not all of us get paid an obscene amount of money to play hero.”

You could feel him tense up a little before giving you a light shove through the door. “Joke’s on you because I’d make fun of you regardless.” He turned to lock the door behind him. “But because you asked so nicely, I’ll call a temporary truce until after we’ve left your house.”

He followed your directions back to your place. His grip on the steering wheel getting tighter the closer he got. He had promised to not say anything, but he also hadn’t expected it to be this bad. The thought of you living here made his skin crawl. But what really got to him was the overwhelming guilt churning in his stomach knowing that this was somewhat his fault. What you did for him all those years ago allowed him to live his dream as a hero, but it had also condemned you to this life. When you said he owed you yesterday in the rain, you were right. He did owe you, and it wasn’t until now that he realized just how much.

He finally pulled into a visitor spot outside your apartment building. Your fingers nervously fidgeted with the edge of your shirt, “Uh, you can just wait here. I won’t be too long. Fifteen minutes tops.”

He gulped. On one hand he didn’t want to leave his car here unattended, but on the other hand he didn’t really want to leave you unattended either. Knowing you’d never let him in if he was being overprotective, he told a white lie. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to come inside. I need to use the bathroom.”

You hovered with one foot out of the car. “Sure. I guess that’s fine. Just like I said before, try not to judge me. I know that goes against every cell in your body, but please try.”

He followed closely behind you and you could almost feel the disapproval rolling off of him in waves. You had to walk up 3 flights of stairs before reaching your floor and the whole time you were trying to remember what state you had left you place in? Had you remembered to wash the dishes in the sink? Or were they still ‘soaking’? Had you put your clean laundry away or were they still in a pile on your couch? Did you even remember to take the trash out? You were in an absolute spiral.

You took a deep breath while giving him one last pleading look before unlocking your door. You tried to hold the door close to you as you peaked in, in an awkward attempt to check the status of your living space while hiding it from Bakugo’s view.

Impatient as ever he huffed as he pushed the door all the way open. “Tch. Let’s just get this over with.” You glared at him but all he did was shrug, “What? I told you I needed to take a piss.”

You rolled your eyes before pointing in the direction of your bathroom. “It’s that door there. I’ll pack first, and I’ll shower when you’re done.” Without waiting for a response, you sprinted to your room and started packing. You didn’t know what you would need but you tried to stay practical and pack light. The only thing you packed that wasn’t an absolute necessity was your switch so you could kill time while on the road. It didn’t take up much space so it should be fine.

You took one last glance around your room. You made a silent promise that the next time you were here, it would be with Kiyo back home and safe.

You rejoined Bakugo who was being busy being nosy. “Does Bilbo live here with you?” He picked up a picture of you as a child and studied it.

You groaned as you took the picture back from him and put it back in its place. “Yes. KIYO does live here as well. Why?”

He didn’t seem to like that answer. But he just shrugged, “No reason. Just found it odd that there’s no pictures of him. Or like any evidence at all that a guy even lives here.”

You pushed past him on the way to the bathroom, “I don’t know what you’re suggesting, but he does live here. In fact, he paid for most of the furniture.” You slammed the bathroom door a little harder than necessary. What was he trying to imply? You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it made you uncomfortable anyways.

Your shower was quick. You were in a hurry to get on the road. You braided your wet hair before once again rejoining Bakugo who this time was rummaging through your refrigerator. “What are you looking for?”

His head had been so deep in the fridge he hadn’t heard you coming and he jumped slightly at the sound of your voice making his bump his head on the door. “Shit! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

You leaned on the kitchen counter putting your head in your hand. “I thought you were supposed to have some crazy bionic hearing now or something.”

He looked at you like you had two heads, “That’s not how hearing aids work dumbass. I hear better with them then I do normally, but I can’t hear shit normally so…” You could feel a blush hint at the tips of your ears. You didn’t mean to upset him. “I was looking for anything we could take with us as road snacks but… you have like no food here that’s not microwavable.”

“What did I say about judging me?”

He raised his hands in defense. “I wasn’t judging, just making an observation. I personally could never live on such a disgusting diet. But then again you never really did care what you put in your mouth.”

You picked up the closest thing to you which happened to be a bag of chips. This teasing wasn’t anything new. This is how you used to be in high school. The two of you had been best friends, practically inseparable at one point in your lives. He was a hot head and you were sassy. You fed off each other’s toxic energy and were always either fighting or joking with each other, and if you were being honest there was rarely a difference between the two.

He caught the chips without a problem, “I’m sorry y/n. I was wrong… you do have something that’s not microwavable.”

You just glared at him. “I refuse to stoop to your level, you immature porcupine. Can we just get going already? You were the one crying about burning daylight earlier.”

You could see he was trying to hide the smirk on his face, “Oh yeah, for sure. We can get gong as soon as you tell me where it is we’re going.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but then you realized you actually didn’t know. “Uh… I was kind of hoping you would have a lead. I mean you told me you were already investigating Big Shadow right? Where do you think we should start?”

He rolled his eyes as he pulled the map function on his phone. “Okay so there’s five known places that he and his men operate out of. A casino, a restaurant, an auto shop, a bar, and a strip club. I say we check them out one by one and see what we find out.”

You nodded as you looked all the locations he had marked on the map and pointed to the restaurant. “I think this one is probably the closest to his last known location.”

Bakugo narrowed his eyes, “That also happens to be the furthest one from us. By like a lot. That’s half a day’s drive from here. What the hell was he doing all the way out there?”

“He works for some security company. He installs security systems. Sometimes he has to travel really far to do it.” You shrugged as if that wasn’t suspicious.

The more Bakugo learned about your boyfriend the more his suspicions grew. Cheeto probably had a secret side job that wasn’t exactly legal and Bakugo think’s he pissed off the wrong guy. You would be lucky if you even found him alive, but he wasn’t going to tell you that. You needed the closure.

So that’s how you found yourself back in his car playing 20 questions. He had said it would help pass time while also catching up on what you guys had missed out on the past few years. You were hesitant at first because the Bakugo you knew was never the talkative or sharing type. So, the fact that not only was he willing to play this stupid game but was his idea., well that really freaked you out.

Little did you know he was using this game to basically integrate you to learn more about your shady boyfriend. It grated on his nerves how happy you guy while talking about him. How your eyes lit up as you said his name. He tried to convince himself it was because you were his friend and he didn’t want to see you get hurt by some asshole. But deep down he had to admit there was a more logical source for this irritation. There was a chance he was jealous.

Bakugo had had a crush on you almost all through high school up until the day you were forced to drop out. He didn’t see or talk to you after that. The guilt ate him alive that he never even tried. Part of him wondered what would have happened if he had. Would your life be any different now? Would you still be living on the shitty end of town with a dead-beat boyfriend and an empty fridge?

He’d be true to his word. He was going to help you find your boyfriend. But he was also going to help you realize all the ways you don’t need him. He was going to use this time to remind you who you are. A strong ass independent women.

**********************************

Tags : @spicy-therapist-mom @runrabbitrun3

#bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugou imagine #mha #mha x reader #mha x y/n #my hero academia

35 notes · View notes

mrs-theirin · 3 years

Text

understanding.

so uh this originally started as “hating rebecca hours”, then it was loving nate hours, and then suddenly at the last second it became.......mutually respecting adam hours??? so here we are. @magebastard this one’s for you <3

calliope langford x nate sewell / calliope & adam du mortain, 2585 words. mommy issues paired with getting to know your stuffy leader better (also on ao3 <3)

The apartment is quiet.

Mind-numbingly quiet, actually.

“Stay home and enjoy yourself,” Tina had said, practically pushing Calliope out the door, a wide smile plastered on her face that said if you don’t go home right now I will end you. Even Verda came out from the lab to say goodbye, his gentle eyes hardened in a way that let her know there was no fighting him.

She needs something to do. The apartment just isn’t the same without Farah’s laughter, Adam’s groans of distaste, the irritating clouds of Morgan’s smoke—which still lingers on everything she owns. Honestly, she’s going to take Morgan’s cigarettes and shove them somewhere unpleasant—and Nate’s warm, calming presence. She debates sending him a text, maybe asking him for coffee, but the idea leaves as quickly as it came.

He’s probably busy. She’s sure he has more important things to do than—

Im bad at this texting thing. Coffee

Calliope laughs. Before she can respond, another text from Nate comes in.

That was supposed to be a question. I cant find the apostrophe or question mark. I would like to have coffee with you.

Another text, separate from the last.

Now, if you can. I heard you were sent home from work and I know how much you like the pastries there.

Her heart races at the thought of Nate frantically typing away at his phone, confused but determined to send her a text. She must admit, it’s a hilarious image, and she laughs as she sends her response.

relax and look for the “123” on the left of the keyboard. you’ll find all your punctuation needs there. and yes, i’d love to go get coffee. meet me there?

Ah! Found it. Thank you. And no, I’m outside your apartment.

Calliope straightens, deigning to push aside the curtain and peek out at the sidewalk. Sure enough, Nate stands awkwardly outside, staring down at his phone. His gaze flickers up as her hand makes the curtain dance, and he waves politely. She waves back. She mouths “be right there” and pulls away, cursing herself for looking outside in the first place. Did he just run here? Was he just outside her apartment when he sent the original text? Did he just assume she would say yes?

She rushes to her bedroom, ripping the nicest—and hopefully subtle—thing she owns out of her closet and throws it on, stopping in front of the mirror to undo the messy bun she has her bright orange hair in and tussle it into something appropriate. She glances at the panicked look in her eyes, and tries to calm down. What is she freaking out for? It’s just Nate.

I would fight through any form of technology if I knew you were on the other end.

Nate, who can make her face flush with just a few words. Nate, who towers over her, his warm brown eyes staring into her soul. Nate, who is patiently standing outside waiting to take her to coffee. She tries not to hold out too much hope that it’s a date.

“Hey!” she says when she finally makes it outside, unconsciously taking too large of a step and standing uncomfortably close to him, which she quickly rectifies by inching backwards. They both laugh nervously. “Did you—”

“I was in the neighborhood,” Nate rushes out, his face flushing. “It’s a beautiful day out.”

She accepts the obvious lie with a face full of heat. “Let’s go then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She loves the way he laughs.

At Haley’s, he relaxes; his shoulders slouching, his gaze softening. He is no longer scanning every person on the street, trying to gauge if they’re a threat. He is talking and he is joking and he is smiling and he is laughing. And every time he throws his head back to laugh at some stupid sarcastic joke she makes, she melts.

He sighs dreamily, then faces her with soft, kind eyes. “I really missed you, Calliope.”

Her heart thumps in her chest. “I missed you too. You could’ve called, you know.”

His smile fades. “I wasn’t allowed to. The Agency thought it was better if we just...left you alone for a while.”

“So I could recover?”

Nate turns away, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah. That’s it.”

Before she can ask him to elaborate, she hears a familiar clack of heels behind her. Her body tenses. “Calliope,” her mother’s voice says, clear and professional, though surprised. She wasn’t expecting her daughter to be here.

Calliope doesn’t even turn. Her hand clenches around her coffee and she clears her throat. “Rebecca.”

Something in her dies when she sees Rebecca take the seat next to her. It is crushed to ash as she turns to Nate, who is smiling kindly at Rebecca, ordering another pastry for her, inviting her to stay longer than Calliope prefers. Her mother hums gently. “Coffee date?” she asks, though there is something else in her voice. Something resentful. Something...cautious.

“And what if it was?” Calliope mumbles into her coffee, as Nate replies, “Oh no, just catching up.”

“You should be careful about how much time you spend in the open, Agent Sewell,” Rebecca offers, and it’s obvious why she’s saying it. Calliope begins to shake, as she always does around her mother, and washes her resentment down with her coffee. The warm liquid contrasts the coldness of her bitterness.

It wasn’t always this way with Rebecca; there was a time where they laughed and smiled and shot each other with water guns. But eventually laughter dies out, smiles fade away, and water guns change to Glock 22s. Love changes to resentment. Dads die.

She understands why secrets were kept. She hates that Rebecca doesn’t understand why she would be upset by the secrets that were kept. The way Rebecca’s eye twitches when Nate leans into Calliope is sign enough on its own. Can’t even be happy with the circumstances she has, apparently.

“Of course,” Nate says, professional as always. “Understood.”

“Let the man...or, vamp, live,” Calliope retorts. “We’re just having coffee.”

Rebecca presses her lips together tightly. “Calliope. Do I need to remind you why you’ve been wearing turtlenecks for months?”

She chokes on her coffee, slamming the cup down on the counter, the paper crunching in her hand. Typical of her mother to remind her of trauma, trauma that deeply affects her, as if it’s just a statement she can throw out at any given moment, like a quick anecdote or conversation starter. How can one look at their daughter having her neck torn out by a killer vampire and think, “This will be good for future scoldings”? And her scoldings, well, of course they aren’t scoldings, they’re concerns. Worries from a concerned mother. A mother who was so concerned about her daughter that she left for years with no contact, leaving the local librarians to raise Calliope.

Calliope tenses as she feels a hand on her shoulder, but deflates when she realizes what side the hand is on. Nate squeezes her shoulder affectionately, and she cannot thank him enough for being a rock. If Rebecca is the storm—cold, predictable, unrelenting—then Nate is the hearth; warm, welcoming, reassuring. He smiles softly at her.

“Of course you don’t,” she finally speaks, subconsciously scratching at the scars. “But considering I’ll be working with the Agency again soon, getting coffee won’t matter much, will it? Or are you trying to say that I can only put myself at risk if I’m not having fun?”

Rebecca’s eyebrow twitches as she sighs. “I’m only trying to look out for you—”

“No, you aren’t.” Her voice is stern, but quiet. Don’t want to draw too much attention. That’s the way it’s always been, right?. “You’re looking out for yourself and your reputation as a ‘good mother’, but it’s all crap anyway. If you wanted to preserve that, you wouldn’t be begging me every 5 seconds to tell you you’re doing a good job.”

“Calliope,” Nate gently warns, and she slowly shrugs his hand off of her shoulder. Now is not the time for another one of those sad, soulful looks he gives her when she argues with Rebecca. She doesn’t have the effort.

Rebecca’s lips are thinned again, in that disappointed scowl Calliope’s seen so much of since this whole Agency business started. “Sweetheart,” she starts, and Calliope is already cringing away, already preparing herself for whatever pandering crap Rebecca is about to spew. “I want you to be safe.”

“But not happy, clearly.”

“Calliope Langford.” Rebecca’s voice is harsh, but it only manages to enrage Calliope more. Her mother isn’t stern often, usually grabbing for the ‘soft and meek’ route, but on the occasion she does show annoyance, it’s never a pleasant feeling. Not because it upsets Calliope, but because she knows it’s a ruse. If she holds out, her mother will give in, because they both know she can’t stand being the bad guy (despite making herself the bad guy in every single conversation they have). “This is dangerous business. I don’t want to see you hurt. I do love you, whether you believe me or not.”

Calliope stands abruptly, slapping a $20 bill on the counter. “Why don’t you concern yourself less with whether I believe you, and more with whether you believe yourself. Come on, Nate.”

She starts to walk away, but hesitates when Nate doesn’t immediately follow, out of his seat but hunched over, like a kicked, obedient puppy. A twinge of betrayal tugs at Calliope’s chest, but she waves it off, instead holding up her hand, exasperated. She leaves without another word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The phone rings.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Calliope sighs in exasperation, about to hit the red ‘end call’ button, when the phone finally clicks, a stern, professional voice coming through as clear as day: “Special Agent Adam du Mortain. Is this something important?”

She rolls her eyes, unable to keep the smile off of her face. “It’s just me, Adam. You don’t have to answer the phone like that.”

“Is this something important,” he repeats, though this time it’s less of a question.

She gives in. “I was wondering if you wanted to spar. You said you were...less than impressed with my combat skills, so why don’t you teach me?”

The line is silent for a moment, before Adam lets out a small huff. “Where?”

She blinks. She hadn’t thought of that. “...Here?” she offers, uncertain.

He sighs heavily. “Open the door.”

The call ends and she is rooted in place for a moment before she springs up from her couch, opening the door and peeking out. Adam is standing on her stairs, looming over her, and he raises a single eyebrow, making the action of entering her apartment. She steps aside and watches him analyze the living room. “Move the table,” he says.

“You’re the one with the super strength,” she jokes, closing the door behind her. “Can’t you do it?”

He glares at her. “Are you serious about training with me?”

She straightens under his gaze, nodding sharply. “Yes,” she responds, though it comes out like a nervous question.

“Then move the table. And slide the couch away too. We need plenty of room.”

She salutes him, tying her hair back into a high ponytail. “Can do!”

He groans.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why didn’t you call one of the others?” Adam asks, crossing his arms and staring down at the panting, sweating Calliope, who is holding onto her knees for dear life.

“Oh, you know—” she says between heavy breaths. “You’re starting to grow on me.”

“Your form is poor.”

“Oh, I know!” she wheezes. “You actually told me that, a bunch of times, like two seconds ago.”

If she didn’t know any better, she can swear she sees a ghost of a smile threatening to appear on Adam’s lips, then it’s gone as quickly as it came. He regards her with complete and utter disappointment. “They would’ve been nicer.”

“Ah, but nice isn’t what I need. I need to learn how to fight.”

This time Adam does actually smile, though it’s still not quite a full smile, more like pride over seeing a lesson learned. He cocks his head to the side. “It could also be that you’re fighting with Nate.”

She hesitates for a moment before scoffing. “I’m not fighting with Nate. Fighting would require words, of which there were none.”

Her two seconds of hesitation were enough for Adam, because he nods his head sharply, and scowls. “Figure it out. I don’t want you two at odds next time we’re all together.”

“Why?” Calliope drags the table back to its original spot, collapsing on the couch with a heave. “I thought I was a distraction.”

He joins her on the couch, his posture as formal as ever, the distance an obvious sign of something. “You are a distraction. But you’re more of a distraction when Nate is running through his mind trying to make up a list of ways he can make it up to you.”

“Make what up to me?”

“You’d have to tell me that.”

The two stare at each other before Calliope sighs, smiling. “Thank you for coming over. You didn’t have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything I don’t wish to,” he simply says, and she rolls her eyes.

“Loosen up a little sometime, huh? I think it would do you good.”

“Then you and I will have to have differing opinions.”

A knock sounds at the door, and Calliope starts to stand, but Adam takes the lead instead, gesturing for her to stay put. She doesn’t put up a fight, after all, her body is aching and all she really wants is a nap right now, maybe a 3 day slumber. When the door opens, she strains her ears to hear the soft mumbles of whoever is at the door. Adam’s voice is strong, and overshadows the meeker, much quieter voice of the person—no, woman, that’s a woman’s voice—standing at the door. A few more minutes pass until Calliope finally hears Adam say, “I think you should leave,” and shuts the door. When he returns, she gives him a curious smile.

“Who was that?” she asks, and he shakes his head.

“No one important. It’s late, I should leave. Goodnight, Detective Langford.”

She stops him before he can zip out. “Adam, honestly. You can call me Calliope. I promise you won’t implode.”

He hesitates, gears in his head clearly turning, then gives in, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Goodnight, Calliope. You did well.”

“You’re lying to me!” she calls after him, and he says nothing as the door shuts behind him. She lets out a soft, incredulous laugh. Well, at least one good thing happened today.

She heads to the light switch, peeking out of the window just for a second to try to catch a glimpse of the woman Adam had sent away. Her heart drops into her feet as she sees the car she knows too well. Rebecca sits in her car, taking a deep breath, and eventually starts it up and drives away, shaking her head. Calliope is frozen at the window.

It was Rebecca at the door. Rebecca, who Adam...turned away? Told to leave?

She takes a moment to suck in a deep breath, letting out a loud sigh. Huh, she thinks, turning off the light and heading to her shower, eager to wash off the grime and sweat of training. Maybe he’s not so bad after all.

#just for you marty <3 #calliope langford #detective x nate sewell #detective x nate #nate x detective #detective & rebecca #detective & adam du mortain #nate sewell #rebecca #adam du mortain #the wayhaven chronicles #wayhaven chronicles #wayhaven #twc #fic #quill's writing

22 notes · View notes

comingtothetree23 · 4 years

Text

Frozen Heart

Paring: Peter Parker x Ice power!Reader

Warning: Swearing

Word count: 3.4K

Summary: Having a frozen heart hurt others but protected you, What happens when someone warms up your heart for the first time ever?

A/N: Do you guys like these? I mean to myself so I don’t know if these are actually good or not. I hope you like it anyways!

"Finally." You sighed as you took the hood off of your head, You walked over to the kitchen and started putting the food away. You lived by yourself for many reasons one reason is that you're too cold for a roommate. You let out a small groan at the open fridge, you always forget to close it. It annoys you but it doesn't mean anything, with a wave of your hand everything is good.

You sigh as you get to work on your homework, You lived in a small cabin since your parents were gone. Despite being alone you were happy, you didn't really have any friends. The closest one was M.J, you two were the outcasts but you wouldn't say you were friends. A sudden knock on your door made you look up at the door with a raised brow. You walked over and opened to door to see two adults standing in front of you. You acted like you didn't notice how they shivered when you opened your door.

"Hello, Ma'am." The blonde male starts, making you narrow your eyes at them. You sighed and leaned against the doorway at the two.

"Hello, Do you need anything?" You asked as you looked at them questioningly. Why would they be here at this hour? Scratch that, Any hour!?

"Are your parents home?" the blonde asks trying to look over your shoulder to see inside of your house. You blocked his view of your house with a glare.

"No, actually their not." You grabbed the door, "So if you two would just." You tried to close the door in their faces but one of them put their foot down before you could close it.

"We're here to talk."

"Not interested!" You groaned as you tried to close the door with all fo your strength, You silently curse not doing anything in gym class.

"We're looking for (Y/n) (L/n), You know her?" Your eyes widen as you looked at the two before frowning.

"Why do you care!?" You ask as you back away from the door, You shiver a little as you frown. You looked down to see the floor under your feet is starting to freeze.

"We have reason to believe she has powerful magic." They explained to you, making you even more nervous. You wouldn't call your magic powerful but it was something.

"N-nope, haven't seen her. You must have the wrong neighborhood. Buh-Bye!" you tried to slam it again but it didn't work. The two look at each other before gently opening the door.

"(Y/n)? It's alright, you can come with us and everything will be okay. I swear." The blonde said quietly trying to make sure you don't freak out.

It didn't work. He started to walk into your house, making your breathing quicken.

"L-Leave me alone!" You yell as you throw down your arms, freezing the floors and making it snow inside the house. You gasp as you make eye-contact with the two. Half of their bodies were frozen, making you frown but you were quick yo grab your backpack and pack important items in it.

"I'm sorry, I really am." You muttered quietly while you were half-way out your window. You looked at them before sighing and making the ice go away from their bodies. You jumped out the window and ran into the woods.

"H-Hey Kid, wait!" You heard the two yell as you run. When you were far enough you fall on your knees and pant quietly.

"What am I supposed to do now?" You whisper to yourself, You hug yourself as you lay down on the floor. Looking at the stars above.

You walked into the school with a small groan, you were luckily wearing different clothes from yesterday so no one questions anything. Well, except for the bitch who won't leave you alone. Ever.

"Hey, (N/n), How you doing?" Flash asks as he puts an arm around your shoulder. You look at him with a frown as you move his arm off your shoulder and goes over to your locker, "Hey what's with the silent treatment? Don't you know that's rude?"

"Cause you would know what's rude." You rolled your eyes as you put some books into your lockers, "I've been the way you talk to kids." You started to put your gloves on but frowns as Flash takes one of your gloves, "Hey!"

"Why do you always wear these, (N/n)?" Flash asks as he looks at the (F/c) gloves, "It's like 80 degrees outside."

"Don't call me that and Give me that!" You growl as you reach for your glove, being careful with what you do with your ungloved hand. You didn't want anyone else to figure it out.

"C'mon you can tell me, Nothing to be scared about," Flash smirks looks down at you as he holds the gloves up high. Your eye twitches as you stare at the annoying boy. You could feel the hall becoming colder and colder by the minute. You take a deep breath and look up at the boy.

"Flash, just give me the goddamn glove and you can move on with your life." You refuse to jump but to reach the glove but you seriously needed that glove. If you weren't careful you would freeze anything you held. Suddenly the glove was In your hand and you looked up with a puzzled expression.

"There you go, (Y/n). Flash just stop, it's not funny." There stood Peter Parker, the one who gave you back your glove. You quickly put it back on before it can be taken from you again. You looked at Peter questioningly as you two never really talked. You tow have talked once or twice as he also talked to M.J.

"Aw, Penis Parker helping his girlfriend?" Flash mocked as he looked over at you, "You can do way better (N/n). Good luck, Babe." He winked at you as he walked away, You noticed the way he hit Peter's shoulder.

"Thanks." You say as you both watch Flash walk away, "He was being really annoying, You know more than usual." You let out a small chuckle at that.

"I-It's nothing." Peter shuttered making you look at him, he does that sometimes and it was kinda...cute, "Why did he care about your gloves?"

"I dunno, actually." You held up your arm to look at the glove, "I guess it's because I only wear them at school?" You asked more than stated looking up at the boy.

You both look up as the bell rings, you groan as you look down at your books. You look back up at Peter to see he had a smile on his face, He held his arm out with a shy smile.

"Walk to class with me?" He avoided your eyes as he asked that, making you give a small smile at that. He looked up in shock as you link your arm with him with a sly smile. Peter gave you a shy one as you two walk over to class.

You just hoped you weren't too cold.

~~ You were walking down the streets of Queens, it was nighttime. You couldn't go back to your cabin since those men now know where you lived and after that stunt, they must be mad now!

'Maybe I can go by Parker's?' You asked yourself before mentally slapping yourself. You bearly talk to him! Why would he help you now!? You weren't the nicest to him. You were so deep in your thoughts you didn't even hear the footsteps behind you.

"It's you." A young voice said from behind you, You yelped and looked behind you to see the mighty Spider-Man hanging upside down from a web. He was just staring at you. You give him an awkward smile.

"Yep, It's me." You point behind you, "Now If you excuse me. I gotta go! Bye!" You give him another smile before trying to walk away from the Spider.

"No, Wait!" He squeaked out before he gently grabbed your hand to stop you. You flinch and look over at him with a questioning gaze, "We've been looking for you."

"That sounds really really really creepy!" You yell, trying to pull your hand away from his but he wasn't budging, "Please, just let me go!"

"We want to help you, (Y/n)." Your eyes widen as he said your name, why did he know your name!? You look up at him with fear in your eyes.

"H-How do you know my name? Who are we!?" You yelp out trying to calm yourself before you freeze this hero. You didn't want to do that again even if you could semi-control it. The eyes on his masks widen for a second before he sighs deeply.

"The Avengers, (Y/n). I know it sounds creepy but they think you could really help the team." Your eyes widen, "Captain America and the Falcon went to look for you but they said you freaked out and ran before they could talk." You start to feel yourself become cooler and cooler by the minute.

It was becoming too cold, too cold to be normal.

"(Y/n)?"

You needed to calm down, you tried to control your breathing but it didn't really work.

"Are you okay?"

You help arms on your shoulders, making you look at the eyes of Spider-man's masks. You silently wondered whose eyes you're looking at.

"You need to calm down, okay? Nothing bad is going to happen to you, We just want to help you." You slowly nodded at him. Wondering what your going to do. As you slowly calmed down the world around you started to warm up, a little too warm for your liking, "(Y/n), what's wrong now?" He didn't sound annoyed, just worried.

"Too warm..." You mumbled out before closing your eyes gently and going to sleep. You were content with sleeping when warm.

Cold is always better for you.

You sighed as you sat down on a couch next to the avengers with Tony Stark talking to you. You shifted uncomfortably at their eyes, it was until you felt a hand gently take yours. You could already tell by how it felt it was Spider-man's, the room started to warm up as you squeezed his hand gently.

"So, I'm gonna assume you know why you're here," Tony said as he pretended he didn't notice you and Spider-man holding hands. You give him a look before looking around.

"Uh, Because you stalked me and found out about my power?" You gave them all a look as you looked all around the room, "And I was tattled on." You looked directly at Steve and Sam, oh yea you learned their names. Expect for Spider-man he was a mystery. Which made you interested in him more.

"Basically." tony shrugged at you, making you give him a look.

"We know you kind have a handle of your powers but we think it'll be good for you to train here," Steven spoke up, making you look up at him, why was he so tall!?

"What do I get in all of this?" You asked crossing your arms while raising a brow at them. They all looked at each other before Nat looked at you with a small smirk.

"How about a place to live?" Your eyes widen and you look around the tower before looking at them with a smirk.

"I'm in."

"Ha! Ha!" You laugh as you sent an ice blast toward your opponent, making them fall to the ground. You've been having a pretty okay time at the tower. You've been getting better control of your powers.

"Can I have a try?" A voice rang out the room, You look over to see Peter Parker. you figured out that he was Spider-man causally actually, You accidentally walked into his room when he was just in his pajamas. (Hello-Kitty)

"You gonna use webs on me?" You smirk toward the boy as you put your hand on your hips. The boy just raised a brow at you.

"Maybe. Unless you wanna do without powers for once?" Peter smirked at you when you just looked at him offended.

"What do you mean by that!? Are you saying I can't fight without my powers?" You crossed your arms in mock anger, too be honest Peter kinda grown on you. Peter just smirked at you making you smirk, "Bring it on!"

You two start to fight, (I suck at writing fight scenes so I'm kinda not going to. Sorry) You let out a breathy laugh as you and Peter stood in front of each other, panting from the hit and punches.

"Y-your doing good." Peter pant as he smiled at you, You smile back at him. He stood up and held an arm for you, you made and linked your arm with him walking to the kitchen.

"What are you two up to?" Sam asks as he entered the kitchen, seeing you covered head-to-toe in flour while Peter was trying to conceal his laughs.

"Trying to make breakfast." You gritted your teeth glaring at Peter who just smiled sweetly at you. You pouted as you crossed your arms, knowing you had to take a shower now.

"What happened?"

"He happened!" you angrily pointed at Peter who held his arms up in defense.

"I didn't know you wouldn't catch it!"

"How was I support to catch it!?" You two looked at each other in mock-anger, you honestly found his funny. You tried to conceal your smile but failed as you let out a few small giggles. Peter started to laugh too making you laugh even more. Sam watched with amusement as you and Peter tried not to tottle over each other, silently hoping he'll win his 50 dollars.

"Breakfast!" You put down some pancakes in front of Steve, "Food!" You put it in front of Nat, "Whatever this is!" You put some in front of Tony, making him frown at you before looking at his food.

"I'd be careful eating those if I were you," Peter smirked as he looked at all of the pancakes. He looked toward you who was happily munching your food.

"You're just jealous I made some bomb-ass pancakes!" you chirped happily as you continue to eat your food. Your smile became even bigger as you heard Peter's giggle from next to you.

"How did you manage to make these?" Sam asks with a raised brow, he saw the mess you two made earlier. You looked over at peter with a look making him giggle again.

"We make a good team." Was all that you said before taking another bite of your food. Sam shared a look with everyone at the table.

"You nervous?" Peter asked from next to you, gently holding your cold hand. You were going off on your first ever mission. You gave a little hum, "Hey," Peter took a gently hold of your chin, making you look at him, "I've been you improving, you'll be amazing. Trust me." He gave you his dorky smile that you loved Liked so much.

"Okay, I trust you." You smiled at him. You two spent a moment just staring at the eyes of each other. Did you ever mention how much you loved his brown eyes, they were like honey, they were so pretty.

"hey, Lovebirds!" Tony shouted at you two, making you look toward the group, "You two are paired up together. Think you can handle it?" Tony asks with a raised brow.

"Of course!"

"then, let's go, team!"

"wow...It's pretty warm in here, isn't it?" Peter asks as he looks around the darkroom. You were stumbling a little from the heat, it was really hot in here.

"Y-yea, it is." You put a cool hand on your cheek to try to cool yourself off. It was better than before but still not good enough, "What are we looking for?"

"The hostages." Peter answered looking around for anyone, "Karen, is there anyone here?" there was a slight pause, "besides us." You quickly turned around as you heard something, you looked and saw someone in the distance.

"Ah Ah Ah Ah." You heard a voice sing, You narrow your eyes at the figure as you feel peter staring at you.

"We are not doing this," you growled as you raise a cold hand, blasting ice toward the person. You heard then grunt as they tried to get out of the ice, "Go get the hostages, I'll deal with this fucker."

"You sure?" You have him a nog and that was all he needed before he started running in the other direction. You start walking closer to the man, each step making the ice around him go further up and up.

"What is your plan?" You ask as you stare at the dark mask. They didn't answer you making you sigh, "Didn't want to do this." You raise your hand and make a fist, tightening the ice around him, "What. Is. Your. Plan!?" You growled through clenched teeth. Instead of answering the person starts to chuckle you looked at him confused before you realized he presses a button.

"Wha..." Your eyes widen as it started to get hotter and hotter in the room, "What are you..." You started to stumble as you tried not to realize him.

"Elsa doesn't like the heat, is that it?" A deep gruff voice rang out, making you look at the man. Your knees gave out as you fell to the ground. Your vision started to darken as your eyes start to droop, "All is going according to plan." You hear one last thing before you fell into darkness.

"(Y/n)!!"

~~ You woke up with a gasp sitting up in the darkroom, that wasn't yours. You look around the room and it seemed more like a void. You hugged yourself as you realized that it was freezing.

"W-Where am I?" you ask the darkness and frowning when you heard your own ego. At least you felt better, you preferred this over that oven. You just felt like you were forgetting something, "Peter!" You yelled as you stood up and ran forward when you felt a wall you started to bang on it hard, "Let me out! Wheres Peter!? Is he okay!? What happened!?"

You were gasping and panting as you felt tears sting your eyes. After a couple of minutes, you let out a sob as you put your forehead on the door. You felt a tear run down your cheek before it fell it froze. You let out a small gasp as the door opened making you fall forward.

"(Y/n)?" You heard a familiar voice asks, You look up with a smile as there stood Peter Parker (Out of his Spider-suit.) He looked down at you with a small voice that you loved so much, "Are you alright?"

"Peter!" you sobbed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him close to you, "I thought you were hurt! O-Or something!"

"Why would I be hurt?" He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around your waist. God, That chuckle was adorable!

"I-I don't know!" You pulled away and put a cold hand on his cheek, "The last thing I remembered I was knocked out you were fighting that guy all by yourself. We didn't know what he could have done."

"Well, don't worry your pretty head about it." He ruffled your hair, making you huff, "We got the hostages out and the guy was arrested," he smiled softly at you as he gently stood a hold of your chin to look at him, "Were you really that worried about me?"

"Of course, You're my best friend." Peter smiled as you admitted that you were friends. He always tried to get you to say it but you wouldn't budge. That gave him enough courage to place a small gentle kiss on your cold lips.

Before he could pull away but kissed him back passionately, making him chuckle and pull you close to it. The kiss lasted for a while until you both pulled away, smiling at each other.

"I've been meaning to tell you but it just slipped my mind."

"I swear to god, Parker!"

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #spider-man x reader #spider-man x avenger!reader

37 notes · View notes

vikingpoteto · 4 years

Text

we don’t have to dance (to the beat of their songs)

Chapter 5 on AO3

______________________

Relationships: (Gen) Tim Drake & Jason Todd

Tags: Battle for the Cowl, Alternate Canon, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Neglect, Domestic Fluff, Canon is not valid I am, and I want them to be friends goddamnit

Summary: In the middle of their battle, Jason asks Tim to leave the nest and be his Robin. Tim decides it's not a bad idea, after all.

________________________

Jason Todd is many things. A street rat. A literature nerd. A former hero. A crime-lord. Dealing with anger issues. Ignoring a whole lot of other issues. But he isn’t an idiot. And, while he’s been bamboozled more times he can count, he realizes Tim Drake is a bigger conundrum than he anticipated. He isn’t about to be fooled again.

He thought he had Tim figured out. Rich kid. Too smart for his own good. Smug beyond repair. No regard for his own well-being. Incapable of holding grudges. He thought the kid couldn’t surprise him, not in a way that mattered, until that first night.

That’s when he starts taking note of the small things.

Saturday is uneventful. Jason wishes he could say he forgets he isn’t living alone anymore, but, even though Tim makes little to no noise as he sleeps the morning away, Jason is painfully aware that he has a roommate. He can’t focus on his book, he can’t focus on the absurdly detailed report Tim made him. He definitely can’t focus on anything else after Tim flies down the stairs like a speedster, blurts out something that could’ve been good morning and disappears in the kitchen. Jason heads to his room, assuming the kid is getting himself breakfast, and he tries to take a nap. He fails.

After giving up and heading downstairs to make dinner, he finds the kitchen as clean as he left — did Tim do the dishes? Did he eat at all? — and he can barely hear faint noises downstairs. He makes a mental note to fix the sound proofness of his walls as he climbs down.

In his Office, like Jason calls it, he finds Tim wearing headphones. The music is loud enough that Jason can clearly hear muffled heavy metal. The computer is half dismantled, half loading something somehow, and Tim is carefully tinkering with the suit Jason gave him.

Instead of throwing something at him like he wants to, Jason walks into his field of view and waves at his face. Tim takes off the headphones.

“The fuck you doing?” Jason asks.

“Fixing stuff. I know you love Jane Austen, but do you have to use the same software she used to write?”

Jason punches him in the shoulder. He regrets it instantly and curses at himself inwardly. Tim, however, doesn’t even flinch. He snickers as though that was the reaction he expected.

Huh. Jason files that away for later analysis.

He gets Tim to suit up and they head out for the night.

They don’t go together per se, as Red Hood is still laying low, planting the seeds subtly so no one notices until he’s ready to make an entrance. He gets intel. Ruins the plan of a very misguided small dealer. And finally saves a pair of prostitutes from a harasser. He wears nothing but a domino mask all night, because there are only a few key players that must know Red Hood is back. He smiles at the girls after he’s done and they get excited asking him if he’s the Red Hood. He takes off without answering.

Red Hood has always been popular with prostitutes, as weird as that sounds. What can Jason say? The girls that worked near the street he grew up in were the nicest people he knew; he has a soft spot for them.

He meets up with Tim near the end of the night and he finds that Tim’s spoken reports are a lot briefer than his written ones: he stopped some muggings. Probably broke the kneecaps of some creep near the park. Confirmed intel he got from his research. He actually saved a cat stuck on a tree too, which makes Jason roll his eyes. They go back to Jason’s place without further ado.

Sunday is more of the same, except Jason manages to actually sleep. That is, until the sound of a hammer wakes him up.

He finds Tim in his living room dismantling an old television he got from God knows where. The shouting match that follows should make things more awkward, but instead it makes them easier.

Turns out Tim doesn’t mind exchanging insults or having dusty pillows thrown at him, and Jason feels more at ease by the time they swallow cold sandwiches and head out.

He has this unreasonable pang of anxiety when Tim vanishes into the shadows, but he shakes it off. The Red Robin suit is getting better everyday and, thanks to the cowl, Tim looks older and more menacing than he actually is, meaning no one is going to fuck with him.

It’s fine. They have a plan. It’s working. There are rumors that Hood is back, though nothing but whispers. Enough to stir his territory without getting unwanted attention from the better neighborhoods.

It isn’t until Monday at around 1pm that the other shoe drops. Jason wakes up scratching his belly and walks past Tim on the way to the kitchen.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Tim mumbles.

“Fuck off, Replacement,” he says back.

The kid is fucking with something that smells like oil on the kitchen table. Jason thinks to himself he should have words with him about it… after his morning tea. Morning tea at 1pm, but still.

He’s boiling water and staring blankly at Tim when he realizes: it’s Monday.

“Wait, what the fuck are you doing here?”

Tim stares at him. Back at the myriad of circuits spread around the table. Then back at Jason

“Wrist computer,” he says.

“No, here !”

“The kitchen?”

“Home! You’re, like, 17, right? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

Tim stares at him as though he’s grown a second head. “Jason. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I stopped going to school after my father died again and I traveled abroad to work with an organization of murderers.”

“That was a fucking month ago. You get a month of skipped classes, your dad died. Now that you’re here, you can go back.”

His chin actually drops and Jason is greeted by the sight of a nearly white chewed gum threatening to fall from Tim’s open mouth.

“I’m not going back to high school. Are you insane?”

“Are you insane? Of course you’re going back to school. Don’t you have, I don’t know, friends or a girlfriend or… whatever!”

“No, I don’t?” Tim scowls. “You want me to go to school so I can date? Why don’t you go to school?”

“Everyone thinks I’m dead.”

“Oh, heck off, you don’t get to pull the death card with me,” Tim rolls his eyes. “It works with Dick and Bruce, but I’m immune.”

“The fact that you still say heck off means you definitely should be at school around people your age. Get some bullies. It builds character.”

Tim’s pale cheeks go crimson and Jason has to bite back a grin. Knowing that Tim blushes like that opens so many teasing opportunities.

“Shut up, I got used to it because Alfred got mad at us for cursing! And I don’t need school to get bullied, I have you right here.”

Jason decides to test a theory. It’s a wicked idea, but Jason isn’t known for fighting fair.

“Tim. I ain’t raising an uneducated goblin.”

“I’m seventeen ! You’re not fucking raising me! You’re like a muscular child sharing a place with a slightly smaller child!”

“If you don’t go back to school, the deal is off. I’m not keeping you around.”

And, just like that, Tim closes his mouth and all the color drains from his face. Jason expected this. He doesn’t feel great about it.

“Y-you… Dick will notice if I start going back to school,” he tries. “This is against the plan. Batman will know we’re working together.”

“No. He’ll know you’re back in town. Make an excuse. I know you’re great at it.”

“This will affect my productivity. I won’t be able to upgrade your gear as fast and I’ll have to sleep more. This is-”

“Non-negotiable. School or no partnership.”

Jason knows it’s too late for him. It might be too late for Tim, too. But not late enough that Jason will let him give up. Tim may never have a normal life - the fact that he’s working with his almost murderer more than proves it. Jason selfishly wants to make sure he has at least a little normality.

This is about Jason, not Tim. Jason doesn’t think he can live with another deadman walking.

“Fine,” Tim says, like he’s agreeing to a death sentence. “I’m going back to school tomorrow. You happy?”

“Hella,” Jason says. He turns back to his tea. “And Tim? I’ll know if you’re skipping and I’ll kill you if you do.”

Tim starts listing a colorful collection of insults a lot worse than heck off. Jason grins at him and Tim, in his teenage rage, doesn’t seem to notice that the smile doesn’t reach Jason’s eyes.

So Jason's theory is confirmed. Tim Drake doesn’t care about attempts on his life. He isn’t afraid to fight an armed man. He isn’t afraid of having a familiar person taking a swing at him, so Jason doesn’t think that he has issues with physical abuse.

Nothing freaks him out as much as someone critiquing his work, though. And not in the asshole way, that would be way too easy. As cocky as he is, Tim doesn’t look like the type to think he can do no wrong. He wouldn’t get irrationally angry over someone pointing out he can do better. He does, however, flip out at the mere possibility that he’s done something wrong and didn’t own up to it already.

Jason thought he knew Tim until he jokingly complained about him sleeping on the job and saw genuine horror in his eyes. Horror like never before, not even when Jason beat him and tried to leave him for dead. Hell, at that point the kid said he was a better Robin right before passing out.

Who did this to him, Jason wonders? Who convinced Tim that the worst he can be isn’t a high school dropout or even a dead boy, but a person who messes up? His biological parents? Bruce? Is Tim even aware of it?

Jason doesn’t know, and he isn't sure what to do about it. Can he do something about it? He remembers far too well, thinking Bruce brought him in because he wanted another Robin. How every time he made Bruce laugh, or solved a case, it felt like a victory. How every time he got scolded, he expected Bruce to send him back to where he came from. He remembers having that fear confirmed when he heard from Talia that he’d been replaced.

Is there really something to be done?

Despite a good deal of complaining about work hours, Tim starts going to school. Jason hounds him to make sure he isn’t lying and he’s pretty sure he’ll have to keep checking regularly, because, if he learned anything about Tim, is that the kid is scarily patient and spiteful.

He stalks him all the way to school on the first day, making it painfully obvious that he’s there even if Tim puts a lot of effort into pretending he can’t see him. He pops at Tim’s classroom window and waves cheerfully as Tim flips the bird at him. Waking up early was hell, but Jason finds it ridiculously fun to make Tim annoyed.

On Friday, Jason decides to pick Tim up after class just to keep him on his toes… then he almost crashes his motorcycle into a lamppost when he sees a fancy car and a familiar man leaning against it.

Dick Grayson.

Despite the fun distractions Jason came up with, his whole damn body still remembers the beating he took. He wonders if Dick took as long to recover after that night.

His fake second death would be really short-lived but, lucky for him, Dick is preoccupied with something else. Jason parks around the corner. His height wouldn’t allow him to hide among the flux of rich kids walking out of school looking for their chauffeurs, but he has to come closer.

Well, time to get those stealthy muscles to work.

Ironically, it was Dick who taught him that the best hiding spot was in plain sight, and that’s how he casually walks behind the sports car and heads towards a beaten phone booth.

Dick doesn’t notice him.

Whether it was thanks to Jason’s skills or the fact that the older man looks like he’s having an internal anxiety attack, Jason may never find out. He does, however, hear it when Tim’s voice lets out a long word that definitely isn’t heck . He risks taking a peek at the duo and sees Dick smiling. He looks tired.

“Timbo,” he greets.

“Don’t call me that,” Tim groans. He would’ve sounded like your everyday grumpy teenager, but there’s too much tension in his jaw.

“Welcome back,” Dick says. “Were you planning on telling anyone you’re around?”

“I’m assuming you don’t mind, since you kept paying for my school. I was also checking to see how long it’d take you to find out.”

Jason almost snorts. Who knew the kid had it in him? Furthermore, it’s impressive how Tim methodically and deliberately hid all signs of displeasure. He looks earnestly happy to see Dick and he almost makes his barb sound like friendly banter.

“Timmy, you were gone for almost two months. Where were you?”

“I was pursuing a lead. It didn’t pan out. So I’m back.”

Dick is quiet after that. Jason assumes he knows damn well Tim isn’t one to give up just like that. At the same time, Jason can see Dick assessing the differences between the kid in front of him and the kid he last saw.

“Let’s go home. We need to talk,” he says finally.

“Sorry, I can’t. I’m heading to a friend’s house so we can do homework together. I have a lot to catch up.”

“Tim…”

“You were right, Dick.” Tim smiles softly. “Damian needs you now. I don’t.”

Dick flinches. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” he chuckles. “Let me rephrase that: I’m fine. You know, when you first asked me to help Bruce, I planned on staying for a few months. A year, tops. I was always supposed to go back to my normal life.”

“Timmy, you’re family,” Dick pleads. “Your normal life doesn’t include going home?”

Tim’s expression is empty of emotion when he replies: “I need space now. I’m not going back, Dick. I’m sorry. I have a place to stay. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“ Where are you staying? Do you need help setting up anything or…”

“I’ll text you the address later. Right now I really need to go, though.”

Dick presses his lips into a tight line. He hesitates before reaching out to hug him. Surprisingly to Jason, Tim allows it and even hugs him back, even if not as tightly as Dick does.

Jason didn’t realize that. The whole time, he thought Tim needed his older brother and Dick was painfully blind to it. It never occurred to him how Dick also needed Tim. He wonders if Dick felt lost when Tim went away, or if he realized how messed up it was to rely on a teenager.

And Jason’s file on Wayne drama keeps growing thicker.

“Come over for dinner tomorrow?” Dick tries again. “Alfie misses you.”

“And annoy Damian in the process? I’d love to.” Tim deadpans.

Dick finally pulls away from the hug. “He’s made a lot of progress. You’d be surprised.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t remember I punched him before I left.”

“Tim. Dinner?”

“Why would I say no to free food?” Tim gives him a crooked smile.

Dick moves as though it’s painful to let Tim go. He retreats to his car as slowly as it’s humanly possible, like he expects Tim to change his mind and join him. Tim smiles and waves until Dick vanishes around the corner. His look turns hollow, but none of the kids walking past him seems to notice it. Not even when Tim calls out:

“You can come out now. He’s really gone.”

Jason pretends not to hear two girls letting out startled little squeals when he leaves his hiding spot.

“That was cold blooded, Replacement,” Jason says, stretching his hand to Tim. “I knew you were a liar, but that was impressive.”

Without blinking, Tim takes out a tracker from the collar of his shirt and another from his hair. He hands both to Jason. “I didn’t lie, mostly,” he says. “I did plan on leaving after Bruce got better. Or at least when we found a better replacement. That didn’t work like I expected.”

Jason doesn’t say anything as he casually crushes one of the trackers under his boot and places the other on a random kid passing by. He knows how magical it feels to be Robin. He doesn’t think he could quit out of free will. He still remembers the addicting adrenaline that makes you feel like you’re really a bird soaring across the sky.

Until you’re not.

He notices it when Tim looks down at his own feet. Without thinking, he reaches for Tim’s head and messes up his hair.

“C’mon. I got the parts you asked. You can finish tinkering your suit tonight.”

They take the night off. It’s too risky going patrolling the night Dick found out about Tim’s return. Instead, they sit in the living room and Jason turns on the TV while Tim finishes adjusting the suit. The documentary about fish only keeps Jason’s attention for about five minutes before he notices Tim is butchering his cowl. Of course they start bickering.

The new mask isn’t quite a domino. It still has a nose guard similar to a bird’s beak that creates the illusion that Tim’s nose is more aquiline rather than a small snub, which is good to hide one’s identity. Still, Jason thinks going out without head protection is fucking stupid and Tim goes on a rant about looking like he’s wearing a condom on his head. Jason didn’t say anything when Tim replaced the old bandoliers with yellow ones with more compartments. The condom head thing hurts, though, and he ends up beating the shit out of Tim with a couch pillow.

A good deal of screaming and kicking each other later, they return to the task of redesigning. Tim replaces the RR in the middle of his chest with a bird-like symbol that hides a panic button. He switches the black gloves for sleeker red ones, although the middle finger and indicator are black. Jason thinks Tim is trying to make it more dramatic when he flips the bird (heh. Robin flipping bird) but Tim punches Jason’s shoulder and says the new gloves allow him to use his wrist pad more easily.

Jason hits him when he notices he weakened some of the defenses, and they bicker some more before Tim gives in and puts the shin guards and knee protectors back.

The cowl and the cape are gone, much to Jason’s annoyance, and he says Tim’ll look stupid. Tim calls him a knock-off Iron Man. Jason tries to smother him to death with a pillow when Tim doesn’t stop laughing.

It’s the most fun Jason had in… God, how long? He doesn’t remember the last time he could just joke back and forth like this. It doesn’t do good to your reputation as a crime lord if you give the drug dealers a noogie. Tim, on the other hand? Tim gets at least five noogies a day because he’s a dumbass.

It isn’t until they head to their rooms, later that night, that Jason realizes he hasn’t thought about his fight with Dick at all since they started working on the suit. He would've never guessed Tim’s presence wouldn’t be a bitter reminder of everything Jason lost, but rather than a good distraction.

Another week goes by before the suit is finished.

Jason swallows his pride and admits (to himself, at least) that getting rid of the cape was a smart move when he and Tim stand next to each other in full uniform. Tim’s new outfit doesn’t look out of place near Jason’s bulletproof vest and leather jacket. They’re a lot less dramatic than the Bats, and Jason likes that. They’re their own team, not one of them .

“Comms?” Jason asks.

“Tested and protected. Even Oracle would have to manually tinker with them to get into our frequency.”

“And you decided your field name yet?”

Tim hesitates. “I… Red Robin is fine.”

Jason nods. “Plan?”

“Break into Black Mask’s warehouse through the vent, plant…”

“Red Robin,” he cuts off. “Plan.”

Tim sighs. “Make Roman our bitch.”

“Atta boy. Let’s go.”

It’s an operation as simple as it is petty: Black Mask thought he could take over one of Hood’s warehouses. Jason was going to prove him wrong. It wasn’t a key hideout, but it was a relatively safe place if you were in the business of laundering money — discreet, easy to access without being noticed by the pigs, with most of the sewers around it hadn’t been blown up, which was always a plus. Hood was almost sure Roman took it just to show that he could and turned it into a drug warehouse to spite Hood. The fact that he disliked drugs wasn’t exactly a secret, after all. Szazs probably was involved in the process, Jason was sure.

In the end, Tim convinced him the stealthy approach was better. Just get in, ruin the whole operation and, by the time Black Mask realized it, he had lost a ton of money. Poetic justice and all that.

Jason complained about the plan being boring, but, as they get on their bikes to head out, he feels almost jittery. He doesn’t know if it’s just the thrill of being on the field again after so long — sue him, he’s an adrenaline junkie — or the prospect of the petty revenge. Either way, Red Hood grins under the helmet and, almost as though he can see his expression — or as though he’s feeling the same — Red Robin smirks back.

Just like that, they take off into the night. The wind howls past them as Hood leads the race, fast enough that it seems like he’s riding aimlessly. It doesn’t mean he isn’t choosing the way methodically. He knows he’s picking the right streets, the dark ones in which the dark red leather merges perfectly with the shadows. They rush past buildings with closed windows, sure that no one is stupid enough to glance at the two suspiscious riders.

Red Hood makes a sharp turn that would’ve made a less experienced driver fall into the asphalt. He hears Red Robin whooping excitedly behind him and he can’t help but laugh.

When they’re just a few blocks from the warehouse, they stop. At this point, Hood almost considers throwing the plan away — crashing the motorcycle into the place would make for an excellent entrance — but, as though reading his thoughts, Red Robin gives him a pointed look before getting off his bike.

“You’re such a wet blanket,” Hood says, even though no words were truly exchanged before that.

“And you’re a drama queen,” Red Robin retorts. And he grapples up to the nearest rooftop before Hood can give him a noogie for that.

Lighter and more agile, Red leads the way now and Hood is happy to be his shadow until they reach the strategic spot they picked — the two story building next door.

“Thank god this place didn’t crumble,” Hood comments absently. “The other buildings are too far for a clear view.”

Red gives him a strange look. “I checked whether it was still standing while we were planning the attack. Do you not verify the surroundings when you’re making strategies?”

“I like to leave room for improvisation; I’m not a stick in the mud like you.”

Red rolls his eyes under the mask as he reaches for the binoculars in his belt. Hood does the same. There shouldn’t be a lot of activity tonight if their intel is correct, and it looks like it is. They can’t see the inside of the warehouse — which is why Red Hood liked the place so much, damn it — but they can still see the roof as clearly as they can see the vent they chose to… Hood freezes.

“Hey Hood?” Red Robin calls.

Jason pulls a face under the hood. “Yes?”

“Remember our plan to lay low so Batman doesn’t notice us?”

“Hmm.”

“Remember how I wanted to check on the rogues and you told me to stop being a stick in the mud?” He hisses.

“No one likes a bitching vigilante, Red.”

“Freaking Poison Ivy is here.” Red Robin gestures widely at the roof of the warehouse, as though Red Hood can’t see the green lady trying to get in through the very same vent they planned on using.

“See, that’s the beauty of crime fighting. You make a plan. The plan goes wrong. You throw the plan away.”

“Oh my freaking God,” he groans, “this is Young Justice all over again, but worse.”

Despite the complaining, they seem to be in agreement about what to do next: they take their grapple guns and shoot at Ivy’s blindspot. Red Robin is already getting his rebreather to filter whatever toxins they’re about to face.

The boys land almost silently all things considered. Without thinking, Hood points at the other side of the roof and crosses an X in front of his lips, before closing a fist. Red Robin nods and sprints without a question.

For the second time, Jason freezes. The instructions were clear — take the other side, we’re going for a surprise attack after cornering her — but they shouldn’t have been. He didn’t realize he kept using those gestures to give orders, because he hadn’t had anyone working this close to him in literal years. He didn’t realize he still remembered the whole language — ASL, but also specific gestures that only made sense among Bats — until he had Red Robin following his orders. Something in his stomach feels heavy.

“... Hood ? Do you copy? ” Says a hushed voice in his ear.

Shit. Get it together, Jason.

He presses the comm button. “Listening.”

On the other side of the line, Red Robin sighs. “ Oh thank god, I thought the comms were suddenly fried. I’m in position. ”

Shit . “Hang on,” he says. He finally starts moving, extra careful not to make any noise.

“ You good, man?” Red asks, and Hood can practically see the confused furrow of his brow.

“Yeah, yeah, be quiet before Ivy hears us.”

He finally gets close enough to see her — she’s unscrewing the air vent cover to get in, even though she could probably just get a giant peach to roll over the place or something. It looks like Red Hood and Red Robin weren’t the only ones trying to be stealthy tonight.

He takes one step closer, and many things happen at the same time: the metal roof creaks under his boot. Ivy goes stiff for half a second. Then Jason is doing a backflip to avoid being bombarded with freaking thorns? When the hell did Ivy add a machine gun of thorns to her arsenal?

“Red Hood?” She stands, frowning. “Huh. I heard you were dead.”

“I get that a lot,” he says.

He reaches for his guns as Ivy waves her hand gracefully. Red Hood watches, with mild disgust, as what he thought was a weird belt snakes its way up Ivy’s torso until she has two venus flytraps settle on her shoulders.

“Fucking gross,” he says.

“I get that a lot,” she quips.

When he shoots at her, she’s ready. A branch grows fast enough to take the bullet for her and, before he realizes, she’s already inside his personal space. Hood dodges a punch in the throat but she keeps advancing. She knows better than letting him keep her at shooting range.

Welp, brute force it is then.

Hood puts his gun away at the same time he dodges a kick to the face. He takes a swing. One of Ivy’s pet plants almost bites his fist and he barely has time to retreat before the pesky thing takes a piece out of his glove.

“Huh. My sixth grade teacher told me those things are only lethal to flies,” he huffs.

Ivy grins. “My children are special.”

She presses and attacks again, and this time Hood lets her. When her knee hits his stomach, he grabs her by the calf and uses her own momentum against her. She barely weighs anything when he throws her hard at the ground, her back hitting metal and her pained groan muffled by the loud clang. He cringes. So much for stealth.

He makes to kick her before she recovers her wits, but apparently plants are more resistant than they seem. Hood feels his foot stuck to something and he curses when he looks down and sees thick vines holding him back. Shit, why didn’t he consider she had traps prepared around her?

“That was kinda rude, Hood,” she grins, slowly sitting up. “But I’m not mad. I might even give you a little kiss.”

By then, his resistance is futile and he wishes he hadn’t put his guns away so fast, because the vines quickly wrap around his whole damn body and he can’t even shoot the b —

A flying staff hits her on the side of the head.

“ACK!” Ivy shrieks, falling to the side.

“What are you doing, Hood?” Red Robin hisses, pressing a batarang into Red Hood’s hands.

“The hell?” Ivy groans, now looking dizzy. “I thought you worked alone.”

“I’m the intern. They call me Red Robin.”

And he stands over her, looking all heroic and ready to fight. Ivy, however, stays where she is, gaping at him.

“Bullshit. You’re regular Robin,” she says. “I thought you died. We all did when we saw the smaller Robin.”

Hood snorts.

The kid deflates a bit. “How the hell do you know who I am?”

“You’re Harley’s favorite Robin,” she says simply. “She got really grumpy when we heard there’s a new Robin again.”

“I’m Harley’s — Wait, you guys have favorite Robins?”

“Of course we do. Mine’s the girl one. She didn’t die, did she?”

That’s one of the most surreal conversations Red Hood ever witnessed and he’s leading an unusual second life. Fortunately, Ivy is distracted enough — or at least hurt enough — that she doesn’t intervene while he cuts himself free.

“What are you doing here, Dr. Isley?” Red Robin asks. “Are you aware that this place is Black Mask’s?”

She scowls at him. “Are you aware that Sionis is a misogynistic jerk and he’s doing a lot of damage to the environment in this stupid warehouse? I’m going to take this thing down.”

“Hey, fuck off, this place was mine before Sionis stepped in,” Hood protests.

“I don’t care if you’re his landlord.” She gives him a scathing look. “I want him out.”

“This is great then!” Red Robin smiles. “We also want him out. And we have eco friendly plans for the place after Black Mask is out of the equation.”

Ivy gapes at Red Robin as though he started speaking a foreign language out of the blue. Red Hood is thankful for his helmet because he’s sure his expression isn’t much better.

“Are you suggesting we team up with Poison Ivy?”

“Why not?” Red Robin smiles as if he’s suggesting they should have burgers later. “The enemy of my enemy, right? Plus, I used to give her a free pass here and there because sometimes she’s right, you know?”

“Huh. So that’s why you’re Harls’ favorite.”

Red Robin shrugs again and stretches his hand to her. “Friends for the night?”

To Red Hood’s utter shock, she hesitates for less than a second before taking the kid’s hand and letting him pull her back to her feet.

“Just tonight, though,” she says.

If anyone told Jason tonight he’d be working with no one other than the Poison Ivy to take down one of Black Mask’s drug labs, he’d call them insane.

Nonetheless, he watches as Ivy throws caution to the wind — there’s no way the people inside didn’t hear their little scuffle — and uses one of their sentient plants to rip off an entrance on the metal roof. Right before jumping in, however, Red Robin squeezes his shoulder.

“What was that?” he whispers low enough that Ivy won’t hear them. “You were off. That wasn’t like you.”

Hood shrugs his hand away. “We’ll talk about this later. Come on, we can’t let Ivy have all the fun.”

They can already hear the screaming inside, so Red has no option other than compliance. Time to crash the party, he was looking forward to this.

And it’s fun. Having Tim around is fun. Watching a bunch of crooks run terrified of a plant lady is fun. Rounding up his former employees — those traitors — and watching their comically horrified faces upon realizing he isn’t dead is fun.

So much fun he completely misses the fact that there was someone else tailing Ivy. No one sees it when a young boy clad in bright colors rushes away from the place. Robin doesn’t know what to make out of what he witnessed tonight.

#red hood #jason todd #red robin #tim drake #batfam #red bros #poteto writing

6 notes · View notes

angel-deux-writes · 4 years

Text

I don’t think I’ve ever talked about this On Here, but I really want to tell the story of the guy who put in my kitchen floors because it was terrifying

im putting it under a cut bc it’s probably not that long, but who knows.

(scrolled back up after i actually wrote it to confirm that it is in fact long)

Some backstory is that I was INCREDIBLY lucky and got my condo very cheap in a neighborhood I already knew I loved. The other unit I’d looked at was a full 30k over my budget, but this one was perfect because the owner hadn’t updated ANYTHING since it was built in 1985, so it was just...awful. Awful rugs, awful floors, awful walls. My dad is like...the dad who loves a project, so he was all “I can fix all of this except the floors!!! it’ll be great!!”, so I bought it. We hired a local company to do the floors, not wanting to go to Home Depot or whatever (Which i still support in theory, just......not this company lmao). Everything except the kitchen and bathroom was originally carpet. Hallways, stairs, every single room. And it was cheap industrial carpet, too. Like the kind in office buildings. The dude who did the carpet was like “what the fuck were they thinking???”

Also, one of the carpets had a truly upsetting rusty stain, so. My guest bedroom might be haunted.

Anyway, the carpet guy was great. He was the owner of the company, and he was older and very kind. I had my mom come over with me when he was doing the carpets, but I didn’t even need her there. He was cool. His son was in charge of the hardwood portion (I say “hardwood”. I mean, like, the cheapest laminate while still looking nice lmao). He was less great. He had a team of like 3 dudes and 1 lady who would show up and work, doing my office/dining room and upstairs hallway. I know carpet is easier, but the carpet guy took one day, and these guys took a week and a half. They messed up a few times, and it was kind of stressful, but overall it was okay. They had to redo all the subfloors, because condos built in 1985 were almost universally built in buckwild, impossible-to-explain ways, so it took forever. The hardwood guys were loud as hell, but they were nice!

At one point, one of the nicest guys accidentally broke a few of my kitchen tiles while putting in the transition from the wood to the tile. I was cool with it, tbh, but he offered a discount on a new kitchen floor because, shocker, the subfloor under the broken tile was really jacked up, and it wouldn’t be as simple as taking a tile from under the fridge and replacing it. I was like, okay, cool! We set it up.

I did not hear from them for four months. Which, I get it. It was a discounted job, so obviously they wanted to do full-price jobs first. I have no problem with that. The same hardwood guys came back to do the subfloor, and then they were like “okay [the owner’s son] will contact you about the tiles. That took about a week. Finally, I got a date. It was a Friday, a day when my sister was already working from home, so she was like “yeah, I can handle it.” She works in interior design, so she’s used to dealing with construction people, and she was REALLY useful when it came to talking down the son of the owner, who was like...every bad stereotype about contractors meshed with a used car salesman.

So I’m at work the day the tiling is supposed happen. My sister is fine at first, texting me about how the son showed up with one single guy, and then left, so it was only the single guy working. She was annoyed like “it’s supposed to take one day, right? That’s what they said? There’s no way he’s finishing at this pace. Why are they making this guy do the whole thing by himself?”. She called him “nice, kind of cute, but a very slow worker”. I was like ‘well, if they have to come back tomorrow, whatever, that’s fine’.”

Around 10:30 she starts texting me increasingly insane shit.

“He’s talking to himself downstairs? Maybe he’s on the phone”.

“He keeps dropping stuff and yelling SHIT really loudly.”

“Someone just showed up with a bag, and he let them in, and they chatted in the kitchen for like ten minutes, and then the person left, and they didn’t take the bag with them”.

“He’s standing outside using the tile cutter and SCREAMING whenever it’s on.”

“He’s out in the rain and shout-singing something while he’s cutting tile”

“He is BARKING LIKE A DOG TO THE TUNE OF THE RUGRATS THEME SONG CAN YOU PLEASE COME HOME”

I’m half convinced she’s making this shit up, but she’s uncomfortable so I tell my boss what’s going on and race home. When I get there, there’s a vaguely adam driver looking guy who seems nice enough. A little startled to see me, but we make pleasant conversation, I see that he’s not very far along, and then I go upstairs to see my sister. I brought her takeout as a treat, and we sit there for a while talking about normal things. Gradually, downstairs, the dude starts talking to himself. I’m thinking that’s still not THAT weird. Then he starts singing and clapping along. Okay, a BIT weird, but not terrible. I decide to go downstairs into the living room and play some Playstation. Like, maybe he thinks we can’t hear him upstairs and he’ll be more chill when i’m down there? NOPE! HE ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT! He does the barking thing again (and it is, in fact, the rugrats theme song), he’s working at a pace of about one tile per hour, and he starts singing a song that consists only of the word “bitch” over and over again.

I’m texting my dad, freaking out, and he tries to get in contact with the owner or his son, but nobody’s answering the phone. My other sister and her friend are on their way for game night. My sister’s boyfriend should be home soon from work, but not soon enough. It is, at this point, 7 pm. There is absolutely no chance he’s getting these tiles done today. He’s not even halfway done. My kitchen is VERY SMALL, by the way, so this reasonably could have been done in a day with two people, but I suspect that because it was a discount job, we got the discount treatment.

My other sister and her friend show up, and the guy is perfectly pleasant and normal to them. We all go upstairs into my sister’s room, and we sit there, waiting in silence for it to start again, hoping that maybe with more people in the house, he’ll be okay.

NOPE! He starts singing the “bitch” song again. I distinctly remember my other sister whispering “I love this song” and pretending to groove, which was kind of funny but NOT THE TIME. I’m sitting on my sister’s bed clutching a camp axe like a maniac, because I’m like “we are going to be killed by this giant kylo ren asshole”. I’m still texting my dad, who’s like “if you need me to come over, I can, i’m out of work”, but at this point it’s almost 8 and I’m also thinking about my neighbors. Like, he can’t be here at night. He just can’t. He’s so loud even just doing regular tile things!

I muster up LITERALLY EVERY IOTA OF COURAGE THAT I HAVE, and I head downstairs. I ask him when he’s planning on wrapping up, because I know there’s no way he’s going to finish tonight. He tells me it’ll probably take about two more hours. That is 1) absolutely not true and 2) not something I’m willing to deal with because I live in a condo with neighbors on either side of me, and one of my neighbors is a truck driver who gets up at like 4 am! So I explain that my friends and I have an obligation to get to, and I would love it if we could arrange for someone to continue the work tomorrow. He’s SUPER NICE ABOUT IT and is like “oh, okay, no problem!” He leaves. Just...walks into the rain. Leaves all his tools and his tile cutter. I move it inside because it was on my front porch and it is, again, raining.

My sister, a Nancy Drew Game fiend, starts searching the entire downstairs and eventually finds the plastic bag that someone brought him. My other sister, who is a nurse in a hospital that primarily treats overdose patients, is like “yep, that’s drug residue for sure”. I’m like, okay, so he didn’t hurt any of us, and he was nice, just....high and weird. But it’s over now, so whatever. My dad says he’ll call the owner’s son the next day, and everything’s cool. He also says that he, my mom, and my brother will all come over to watch the football game at my house the next day just to be there (which...im less than thrilled about the football part, but sure). I also beg my friend to drive up from the Cape to pick up his hat that he left at my condo over the summer just so he can chill for a few hours in the morning.

The next day, the same guy returns, with the owner’s son this time. The owner’s son is like “why did you only get this far along?” but otherwise doesn’t really say anything. The barking guy is TOTALLY FINE, totally polite. My friend lingers as long as he can, but there’s an ice storm coming, so he peaces out eventually. I’m alone for about an hour with the guy, and nothing happens. He’s quiet, even when the owner’s son peaces for a bit. My parents show up, we watch the football game, and nothing happens. I feel like A LUNATIC, because my dad is like “he seems fine now” and I’m like NO BUT YESTERDAY WAS TERRIFYING.

Anyway, so that’s the story. I didn’t end up saying anything to the owner’s son, but my dad reamed him out a bit for sending only one person to do a job meant for two. And now every time I drive by that business I suppress a shudder, and sometimes the barking version of the Rugrats theme song still gets stuck in my head.

#genuinely it was so so scary but he never even did anything? he was just weird #and almost definitely high #the barking thing was almost funny? like it would have been funny if he wasn't in my house

16 notes · View notes

shae-la-hyene · 4 years

Text

I freaking love my town. For real. It literally won competitions over the nicest place to like and I’m not fucking with you.

And it is GREAT to live there. There is nothing extravagant, nothing special, everything is kinda ordinary, but it is NICE.

People are nice. Respectful. Trust-worthy.

I stopped shaving almost two years ago and I was terrified of going out showing hairy legs and armpits after that because I was afraid of the hate or disgust in other’s people reactions.

But it didn’t happen. People don’t care. My body, my choices. If they react, it’s with surprise, but they respect it and stay the fuck out of it. I saw a few people looking proud of that ballsy choice. When I talked about it with people here, it was “wow I could never do that” but ultimately don’t really care cuz it’s not their body. People are self-conscious, but don’t give a fuck about other’s appearance.

I wear dreadlocks. I love them, making most of them myself so I’m proud. Several people came to me to tell me they were beautiful and suited me, and asked what it was, how it was made. I was always happy of it, because if I told them to fuck off they would have done it in a second, but they went out of their way to tell me they found me beautiful.

Two days ago, at a pharmacy, a little girl tried to get her mom’s attention by pulling at her sleeve and telling over and over again “mom the lady, she’s wearing a costume”. It made me smile behind my mask. The mom didn’t have the ‘don’t show we’re intolerant, don’t look at strangers, don’t gather her attention she may attack’ or whatever. She rolled her eyes and said ‘no it’s just her hair get over it’ and it made me laugh.

There is a huge percentage of the population that comes from different countries of Africa, often being refugees. None of them, ever, came to me to tell me that it was disrespectful, or that I had no right to wear dreadlocks because of my white ass. A couple poc came to me to tell me they were pretty.

I have NEVER been catcalled in my town. Or touched without permission. Or groped. Or harassed. The weirdest encounters I had in late night public transports were people that felt a little lost and alone in their lives and wanted to talk with someone. Once, a fucking elder guy in a tuxedo that told me he had lived a full life of being a famous author and politician, and who was coming back from the premiere of his friend’s opera. I went out of that bus asking myself if that really happened.

I was flirted with, once by someone coming to compliment my dreads. All 15 of my african neighbors tried their luck. I can’t blame them. The poor guys are immigrate, struggle to find jobs, had left all they ever knew behind, have to acclimate themselves to a whole new world and feel alone. They just want a girlfriend. But none of them insisted after I said ‘no’. One was so shy he left a paper note on my car’s glass. It was cute, asking me if I wanted to start knowing more about each other. I never answered, he never insisted. They all saw me in different stages of undress as I do not deal well with heat and clothes are a bother. They never took it as an invitation and respected it. Respected me.

I lived in the two ‘more dangerous’ neighborhood in the town, and really they are not. They are just more poor and with more african people. But a little racism goes a long way and they never lost their reputation.

I always feel safe. No matter where I am. No matter what I wear. No matter how early or late, how many people there are on the street with me. I once crossed the whole town at 2am passing places barely lit, in a short. Except for fatigue, I felt nothing negative. I never felt fear to be harassed or assaulted.

I once did a body painting work at the exit of a mall. I was only wearing shorts. The rest was either bare or being painted on. I wasn’t catcalled for it, didn’t have any lewd comments, but rather awes and wow and curiosity. When that white button up woman came toward us with her three kids trailing behind her, I thought ‘oh shit this is the moment I get screamed at for offering such an obscene display.’ But no. She came and was curious and impressed and complimenting us. Asked if we were artists. I’m not sure Gishing fits the definition, but I answered ‘yes’ with assurance and that rolled. One guy invited us to come to festivals doing body painting as guests. There wasn’t a single negative reaction. A couple guys told me I had great boobs, because I do, but not in a catcall way, just “hey thanks for showing them, made my day” kind of way.

When I tell people that I sometimes take my car to the beach and spent a few days there, sleeping in my car, people from outside, mostly americans, tell me how reckless I am and how I’m putting myself in danger and I should be more careful cuz I’m gonna end up raped. But people here ? Their only concern is “and you don’t shower at all ??” because we don’t do victim blaming here. If it ever happened that someone touched me without permission and that I broke their nose, nobody would blink a eye or tell me I over reacted and that ‘it was not that bad’. They would just ask if I was okay.

There are a lot of gardens and green places. Half the town has trees that have been there two hundred years and have never been groomed to be squared and just live their lives. Even in the best public gardens, there are a portion with wild flowers for the bees and butterflies, and no one ever think to complain of unkept because who doesn’t like wildflowers ?

I had never feared a dog here. There is no dog here that had been groomed to be aggressive. Not a single one. So even if people forget to reattach their dog when I cross their path, there is never a problem.

My favorite market is a little Marakesh and a mess, full to the brim with people. And we all respect each other even in the confined space so it’s always a good experience.

I have seen women exchanging recipes in grocery stores, one white button up, one in hijab, because damn that sounds delicious.

We smile to each other. I smile every time I cross someone’s eyes. And often they smile back and we are all a little happier. NEVER ever someone took it as an invitation to flirt with me as it was unwanted. It was just nice to smile.

There is no honking. Not unless there is immediate danger. In dense traffic, we are all patient because, hey, we are all late for work, but there is nothing we can do about it. Honking, forcing your way in, trying to bypass the others, are all dick moves that we just don’t do. We have the common sense to each wait for our turn because forcing only slows it all down more. Everyone respects the road code. Even the walkers. When I walk and want to cross the road, I do it on the markings, and if there is a car, I wait until it passes to cross. If they stop for me, I smile to them, make a thank you wave, and pass. But I stop, because I know it’s not always possible to stop, or they could have not seen you. It takes two seconds, and no one is angry after it. I heard a man after I did that turn to his wife in the car and say “see ? That’s how it’s done”.

And, unsurprisingly, we were all smart enough to respect the confinement even before it was official, so there is only a handful of covid cases in the area.

We are all respectful of the others, and worthy of that respect and trust.

So, if you wonder what you can realistically expect and demand of the world around you. If you tell yourself it’s “not that bad and others have it worse”, and consider that it’s the best you can have, remember.

This is what you are entitled to have. Respect, trustworthy behavior, safety, kindness.

This is not impossible. So demand it.

#respect #cat calling #cat calls #dreadlocks #harrassment #assault #fear #racism #mysoginy

6 notes · View notes

sparklyaxolotlstudent · 5 years

Text

Ladybug Puppet Show

How to Succeed Thanks to Spite Part 3

“what”

That was the flat reaction of Nino during lunch break, when Alya had checked the Ladyblog after sitting with Marinette and him to get lunch, and had told them the number of views their video had gotten.

“A million views.” Said Alya, still not believing it.

“But we just posted it yesterday! Even your most popular video hasn’t passed the thousand views in a day!”

“Well, like 20 views of those views are mine” confessed Marinette.

“Same” Replied Adrien, putting his tray down and sitting at Marinette’s side. “That video was hilarious, and everyone seems to hate the movie, so it’s natural it went viral.”

“Viral? We went Black Plague!”

“Oh yeah, other ladybug blogs are linking to your video too” informed Nathaniel, who sat at the other side of Marinette.

“… You follow other ladybug blogs?”

“… well, the Daily Ladybugle did pay me for some art for their headers, soooo…”

“Traitor”

“Cheapstake”

Alya and Nathaniel blew a raspberry at each other and then laughed at their own in joke.

“Weren’t you freaking out?”

“Oh right, sorry. A MILLION VIEWS?”

The day went normally after that, with Alya checking every now and then the ladyblog, with the views numbers getting bigger and bigger each time. Even Miss Mendeleiev congratulated Nino and Alya during class, although she did point some of the weak points the video had, which at first annoyed Alya, but she took her advice seriously when Ms. Mendeleiev had told her “Good Work”.

The day of classes finished, Miss Bustier dismissed the class and while everyone was gathering their things, Alya’s phone buzzed, indicating a new e-mail. She decided to look at it.

“WHAT THE… bug” she quickly corrected when she noticed everyone was looking at her. Luckily their teacher was gone already, as was half the class.

“What’s wrong?” asked Marinette and Nino almost in unison.

“That… GUY!” said Alya in a very angry tone. Marinette immediately motioned to reassure her friend, not wanting her to be akumatized. Alya gave her phone to Nino, who read quickly through the e-mail.

“Whoah dude! That’s not nice at all!” Half the people who had gathered around them questioned what wrong, with the other half giving reassurance to Alya. “It’s a cease and desist letter from the lawyers of the director of the Ladybug Movie. Apparently they saw our video and want it down. They even say that if we don’t delete the video they will take the whole Ladyblog down”

Everyone started to protest.

“They can do that?”

“Legally no, but I don’t doubt they will make it very very hard for Alya to keep it” Answered Adrien. “That guy is a real piece of work.”

“But it’s not fair, we worked hard in that video!”

“Unfortunately, you guys used material from the trailer and that is most likely copyrighted”

“It should still fall under ‘fair use’ as a parody”

“Still, if this is really real, we can’t afford That Guy suing us.”

“Well, your video is awesome. Why don’t you make it again but without any of his material?”

Everyone looked at Kim as if he had grown a second head. Alya was about to protest the unfairness of having to work again, but relented, as Kim’s idea was actually good. Nino seemed to think the same.

“That’s genius! That way we can claim we are making a parody of Ladybug and Chat Noir themselves instead of that awful movie!”

“Wouldn’t that be a little mean to them? Like, it will look like you’re making fun of our heroes”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine with that” Marinette added, but Alya was thinking.

“No, no, Rose is right; it could be seen as something mean. I’ll ask Ladybug and Chat Noir when I can, until then, that video is going down.”

“I’m pretty sure they’ll be fine with you making a parody of them. They probably already saw the original video too!”

Alya and Nino looked at Adrien weirdly.

“Holy cat, I never thought of that! What if they didn’t like the video? What if they thought we were making fun of them?”

“Oh my phone! What if they agree with That Guy?”

“Guys relax, as Ladybug’s best friend, I’ll ask her next time I see her”

And now everyone looked at Lila. Alya had to use all her willpower to not laugh at her face. She muttered a “thank you” and along with her closest friends, she went out of the classroom and the school.

<('-'<) ^('-')^ v('-')v (>'-')>

Ladybug was a bit nervous. How would she be able to convince Chat to patrol near Alya’s, when they almost never got there? She lived in a nice neighborhood without many incidents, so unless an akuma or another trouble got them near her, they barely went there.

She saw Chat very near the bakery, almost giving her a heart attack. Damn cat was too close… she should be more careful or he could end up thinking she was in love with ‘Marinette’ or something even more awkward.

“Hey Kitty”

“M’Lady, How are you in this purrecious night?”

“Good good. Uhm..”

“Hey, I was thinking about Alya’s video, and I think we should swing by and tell her how much we loved it!”

Ladybug smiled; she loved it when Chat and she were in the same wavelength. She nodded and they went right to Alya’s, which, unsurprisingly, was looking out for them.

They talked about the video and Ladybug had to feign surprise at the cease and desist, while Chat had some words of choice that he would probably don’t repeat in front of kids. Luckily Etta and Ella were playing in the living room and he had to censor himself, after both girls glared very effectively at him.

“It was a cool video. We laughed a lot at it yesterday”

“Really? It didn’t offend you guys?”

“Nah, you were making fun of that awful movie…”

“And even if you were making fun of us, it would be cool. It sort of humanizes us, unlike that movie who tried too hard to make us otherworldly and unapproachable.”

“So… my friends and I were thinking about maybe doing another video without material from the movie… but I wanted to ask first because it might look like we were making fun of you guys and.. “

Ladybug raised her hand and placed it in Alya’s shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, it humanizes us, and I bet you and your friends will make an amazing work with it.”

“Yeah, you have our blessings! Just make sure to get my rugged handsomeness and witty humor right” said Chat while doing some poses. Etta an Ella giggled and approached him.

“We made this for you Chat!” they said in unison. It was a similar drawing as before, with Chat sporting nyan cat attire. They giggled again and left the living room.

“Hey, it seems they did capture your rugged handsomeness exactly right” Chat was staring at the drawing, when Ladybug noticed tears were starting to form on his eyes. “I’m joking, I’m sure they didn’t mean to…”

“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever given to me ever. I should totally get a nyan cat suit.”

-------------------------------

Had some trouble writing this one. The adventure start next one!

Also no, Lila will not get a call out this time. Everyone knowing she is delusional is more fun for this particular fic.

#miraculous ladybug #ml au #ml fic #Ladybug Puppet Show #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #Nino lahiffe

118 notes · View notes

charlieswan-squad · 4 years

Text

Twilight Rewrite First Sight (ii)

Thick fog was all I could see out my window in the morning, and I could feel the claustrophobia creeping up on me. You could never see the sky here; it was like a prison cage, that after sixteen years was finally locking me in.

Breakfast with Charlie was a quiet event. He wished me good luck at school. I thanked him, knowing his hope was wasted optimism. Good luck tended to avoid me. Charlie left first, off to the police station that was his wife and family. After he left, I sat at the old square oak table in one of the three unmatching chairs and examined the familiar kitchen, with its dark paneled walls, bright yellow cabinets, and white linoleum floor. Nothing had changed. My mother had painted the cabinets eighteen years ago in an attempt to bring some sunshine into the house.

Over the small fireplace in the adjoining handkerchief-sized family room was a row of pictures. First a wedding picture of Charlie and my mom in Las Vegas, then one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, taken by a helpful nurse, followed by the procession of my school pictures up to last year's. Those were embarrassing to look at; missing front teeth, the horrendous haircuts, the braces - I would have to see what I could do to get Charlie to put them somewhere else, at least while I was living here. It was impossible, being in this house, not to realise that Charlie had never gotten over my mom. It made me uncomfortable.

I didn't want to be too early to school, but I couldn't stay in the house anymore. I donned my jacket - thick and unbreathing like a biohazard suit - and headed out into the rain.

It was just drizzling still, not enough to soak me through immediately as I reached for the house key that was always hidden under the eaves by the door, and locked up. Only in a town like Forks, would it be normal for the chief of police to keep his house key in such an obvious place. The sloshing of my new waterproof boots was unnerving. I missed the normal crunch of gravel as I walked. I couldn't pause and admire my truck again as I wanted; I was in a hurry to get out of the misty wet that swirled around my head and clung to my hair under my hood.

Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. It was a strange combination, but not totally unpleasant. The engine started quickly, to my relief, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Well, a truck this old was bound to have a flaw. The antique radio worked, a bonus that I hadn't expected.

Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I'd never been there before. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it to be the Forks High School, made me stop. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-coloured bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see its size at first. Where was the feel of the institution? I wondered nostalgically. Where were the chain-link fences, the metal

detectors? You know, all the homely aspects of a school in a city like Phoenix.

I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading Front Office. No one else was parked there, so I was sure it was off limits, but I decided I would get directions inside instead of circling around in the rain like an idiot. I stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a deep breath before opening the door.

Inside, it was brightly lit, and warmer than I'd hoped. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, as if there wasn't enough greenery outside. The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly colored flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, friendly-looking woman wearing glasses. She was wearing an orange t-shirt, which immediately made me feel overdressed.

The woman looked up. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Bella Swan," I informed her, and saw the immediate awareness light her eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. The Chief's daughter, the one with the unstable mom, come home at last.

"Of course," she said. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school, Isabella." She brought several sheets to the counter to show me.

“Um, it’s Bella, please.”

“Oh, sure, Bella.”

She went through my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day. She smiled at me and hoped, like Charlie, that I would like it here in Forks. I smiled back as convincingly as I could.

When I went back out to my truck, other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, following the line of traffic. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. At home I'd lived in one of the few lower-income neighborhoods that were included in the Paradise Valley District. It was a common thing to see a new Mercedes or Porsche in the student lot. The nicest car here was a shiny Volvo, and it stood out. Still, I cut the engine as soon as I was in a spot, so that the thunderous volume wouldn't draw attention to me.

I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorise it now; determined I wouldn't have to walk around with it stuck in front of my nose all day. I stuffed everything in my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder, and sucked in a huge breath. It won’t be that bad, I lied to myself feebly. Seriously Bella, it’s just high school, it wasn’t like anyone was going to bite me. I finally exhaled and stepped out of the truck.

I kept my face pulled back into my hood as I walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers. My plain black jacket didn't stand out, I noticed with relief.

Once I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. A large black "3" was painted on a white square on the east corner. I felt my breathing gradually creeping toward hyperventilation as I approached the door. I tried holding my breath as I followed two unisex raincoats through the door.

The classroom was small. The people in front of me stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. I copied them. They were two girls, one a porcelain-colored blonde, the other also pale, with light brown hair. At least my skin wouldn't be a standout here.

I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name - not a particularly encouraging response - and of course I felt blood rush to my cheeks. But at least he sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow, they managed.

I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me. It was fairly basic: Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. I'd already read everything. That was comforting… and boring. I wondered if my mom would send me my folder of old essays, or if she would think that was cheating. I went through different arguments with her in my head while the teacher droned on.

When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair black as an oil slick leaned across the aisle to talk to me.

"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type.

"Bella," I corrected. Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look at me.

"Where's your next class?" he asked.

I had to check in my bag. "Um, Government, with Jefferson, in building six."

There was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes. I wondered if this is how animals felt in the zoo.

"I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way…" Definitely over-helpful. "I'm Eric," he added.

I forced a smile. "Thanks Eric."

We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. Several people seemed to be walking too close behind us - like they were trying to eavesdrop or something. I hoped I wasn’t becoming paranoid.

"So, this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?" he asked.

"Very.”

"It doesn't rain much there, does it?”

"Three or four times a year."

"Wow, what must that be like?" he wondered.

"Sunny," I told him.

"You don't particularly look like you grew up in the sunshine." he laughed; most likely referring to the fact that I don’t even have freckles, or that, despite the rain, I wasn’t in shorts and flipflops with a baseball cap or something. I never did fit any of the Arizona-stereotypes.

"Well, you know what they say about vampires."

He studied my face apprehensively, and I stifled a groan. It looked like clouds and a sense of humour didn't mix. A few months of this and I'd forget how to use sarcasm.

“I’m joking, Eric.”

He began to laugh too loudly and forcefully to be real. I could still read the confusion in his eyes, suggesting he didn’t understand my joke, but at least he hadn’t run away screaming that the new girl is a freak. Just give it time.

We walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked.

"Well, good luck," he said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." He sounded hopeful.

I smiled at him, in what I hoped was not an encouraging way and went inside.

The rest of the morning passed in much the same way. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated anyway just because of the subject he taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I stammered, blushed, and tripped over my own feet on the way to my seat.

“Nailed it.” I thought snarkily.

After two classes, I started to recognise several of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I tried to be diplomatic, but mostly I just lied a lot. At least I never needed the map.

Every one of my teachers called me Isabella, and though I corrected them immediately, it was depressing. I had decided at the age of three that I was Bella, and had refused to answer to anything else until Mom and Charlie got the message. At home, no one remembered that Bella was just a nickname; but now I had to start over again.

One girl sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me to the canteen for lunch. She was tiny, several inches shorter than my average height, but her hair was pulled into a very tight ponytail on the top of her head which made up a lot of the difference between our heights. I couldn't remember her name, so I smiled and nodded as she rattled about teachers and classes and what gossip I had to catch up on. I barely listened let alone try to keep up.

We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, who she introduced to me. I forgot all their names as soon as she spoke them. At least I couldn’t complain about the manners here. They all seemed to think it was really cool and brave of her to invite me. Eric, the boy from English, waved at me from across the room, and my neighbours all laughed. I thought it must be a new record for me, already the butt of a joke. But none of them seemed nasty about it. That was something at least.

It was there, sitting in the canteen, attempting to make conversation with a bunch of strangers, that I first saw them. I was surprised it had taken me so long to notice them.

#twilight rewrite #charlieswan-squad #first sight #first sight part two #twilight #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn

1 note · View note

eluvisen · 5 years

Text

OC As Companion Meme

(look at me, perpetually late to the party)

NAME: Kaelyn Prescott

FOUND: Diamond City, after Road to Freedom has been completed.

COMPANION PERK: Friends in High Places - 20% increased accuracy with sniper rifles.

WEAPON OF CHOICE:

Silenced 10mm

Sniper rifle

I THINK WE SHOULD TRAVEL TOGETHER:

“Is this for... official business? Full steam ahead, then.”

“I hope you’re taking me somewhere nice.”

“My husband would disagree, but he’s not here. Let’s go.”

“Of course, but I have to be home by six. Family dinner tonight.”

“What trouble do you have planned for today?”

“Good timing. A desk job can be tiring.”

“I’ll just leave a note for my husband. He’ll understand.”

USE MELEE:

“To think I left my swatter at home.”

“Close quarters isn't my specialty, but...”

“If that's where you need me.”

“So we're hitting and running, is that the plan?”

USE RANGED:

“Back to my favourite spot on the battlefield.”

“I’m more than happy to keep my distance from the things that want to kill us.”

“Now we’re talking.”

“I’ll be watching your back.”

OPEN INVENTORY:

“One person's junk is another's treasure, I suppose…”

“What do you want me to carry?”

“Take a look.”

“Anything you need?”

IF OVERENCUMBERED:

“You'll break your back at this rate.”

“I can lighten that load for you.”

“You really do have one of everything in your pockets, don't you?”

“We need to move faster than this. I don't want to be caught in the open.”

“Maybe we should invest in a brahmin to carry all that.”

STAY CLOSE:

“Right behind you.”

“I'll stay close.”

“Better we stick together around here.”

KEEP DISTANCE:

“Can do.”

“I'll keep my distance.”

“I'll be back there with my sniper rifle.”

“I’ll follow your lead.”

STEALTH:

“Now we're talking.”

“We'll take this carefully.”

“I'll be right behind you.”

“They'll never see us coming. Or at least they’ll never see me coming.”

BACKUP:

“Can do.”

“Sorry. I’ll take a step back.”

BE PASSIVE:

“I’d rather not pull the trigger if I don’t have to.”

“Sure, we can try talking first.”

“Pacifism is worth a shot. No pun intended.”

“Let’s try not to make any new enemies.”

BE AGGRESSIVE:

“Ready to fire when you are.”

“We’re going the fire and blood route today?”

“This doesn’t look like a friendly neighborhood we’ve wandered into.”

“If you insist.”

“Diplomacy too boring for you, I take it?”

USE STIMPAK:

“Ah, that feels better. Thanks.”

“Thanks, I needed that.”

“Gonna feel that tomorrow…”

“Nate’s going to freak when he sees this…”

WAIT HERE:

“Waiting.”

“I’ll stay put.”

“Don’t take too long.”

FOLLOW ME:

“Good, you’re back.”

“Let’s not waste daylight, then.”

“Lead on, then.”

DISMISSED:

“Don’t be a stranger.”

“I go, then. See you later.”

“It’s time I headed home, anyway.”

“If you need me, you know where to find me.”

“Not going to lie, I’m looking forward to seeing my husband again.”

ENEMIES (LONG RANGE)

“A part of me feels bad, but I know they don’t!”

“Let’s teach them a lesson they'll never forget.”

“Sometimes I feel bad for them. Not today!”

(Raiders) “They won’t get a chance to hurt anyone else!”

(Insects) “I hate these things!”

(Insects) “At least they’re easier to hit when they’re this big?”

(Synths/Robots) “Where’s the self-destruct button?”

(Synths/Robots) “You're off to the scrap heap!”

(Super mutants) “Super mutants? We should pick them off from a distance.”

(Feral ghouls) “Best put them out of their misery…”

(Feral ghouls) “Don’t let them close in on us!”

(Critical Kill) “Good shot!”

(Critical Kill) “Like something out of a comic book.”

ENEMIES (CLOSE RANGE)

“You should have run while you had a chance!”

“Enemies closing in!”

“Coming in hot!”

“Hands off!”

“Oh no you don’t…”

(Insects) “I need a big flyswatter.”

(Insects) “Ugh! Disgusting.”

(Synths/Robots) “Think a factory reset will work?”

(Children of Atom) “Atom’s wrath? We’ll see about that.”

(Super mutants) “They’re somehow uglier up close.”

(Feral ghouls) “Don’t let them swarm us!”

(Mirelurks) “Great, now I’m covered in crab guts.”

WHEN ENTERING:

GOODNEIGHBOR

“Goodneighbor used to be even shadier, if you can believe it.”

“Watch your back as well as your caps stash. Both are good targets.”

“This isn’t my idea of a night on the town.”

DIAMOND CITY

“Home sweet home.”

“I need to check in on my family while we’re here.”

“Huh, D-Sec patrols have been switched up again...”

“If you look past the mud, rust and politics, it’s one of the nicest settlements in the ‘Wealth.”

BUNKER HILL

“Watch your wallet. Bunker Hill has all sorts of ways of parting you from your hard-earned caps.”

BOSTON AIRPORT

“Can you imagine all the places these planes could reach? If only we could still travel that far.”

“I wonder how many planes were in the air when the bombs dropped?”

(After Reveille has triggered) “Look at those fortifications. The Brotherhood establishing a foothold here.”

(After Reveille has triggered) “Is anyone else nervous that a foreign army is camping in the Commonwealth?”

(After Reveille has triggered) “Whatever else the Brotherhood is, they’re serious about protecting their base.”

THE PRYDWEN

“How did they build something like this?”

“The Prydwen sure is impressive. And alarming.”

“Be careful around the Brotherhood, okay?”

THE CASTLE

“When the Minutemen lost the Castle, it was the beginning of their end.”

(After Castle is restored) “I never thought I’d see the Castle restored, but here we are. Maybe we can turn the Commonwealth around.”

(After Castle is restored) “If the Castle fell once, it can fall again. I hope the Minutemen are ready to protect it.”

(After Castle is restored) “The view from the walls must be breathtaking.”

QUINCY

(Before clearing Quincy) “Quincy used to be one of the larger settlements in the ‘Wealth. Damn Gunners…”

(After clearing Quincy) “Good riddance to the Gunners. Maybe one day Quincy can thrive again.”

THE GLOWING SEA

“You know, I was planning on having children.”

“Whenever I saw the glow on the horizon, I never thought ‘it would be nice to see this up close’.”

“This place doesn’t feel real. It’s hard to believe there was ever anything else here.”

“Ground zero of the bomb…”

CONCORD

“If you ousted the raiders and put up some walls, Concord could be a decent place to settle.”

LEXINGTON

“Word is Lexington is overrun with ferals. If you trip over one, don’t scream. I don’t want to be chased through the streets by a horde.”

“If we’re quiet, we might not wake up the ferals in the streets.”

SALEM

“Salem is a good place for a witch hunt, I hear.”

“We’d best not linger here.”

LYNN WOODS

“I’ve heard this is deathclaw territory. Be on your guard.”

“A bad place to step on a stick. We don’t want to alert something nasty that we’re here.”

NAHANT

“This looks like it used to be quite the neighborhood.”

“I imagine this isn’t the same ocean view that they used to have around here.”

“There’s a rumour that a raider gang claimed the peninsula. In case the threat of sea monsters wasn’t enough for you.”

CAMBRIDGE

“I hear there used to be places of learning around here. It's a shame they're gone.”

SANCTUARY

“It would have been nice to live here. Maybe it can live up to its name again.”

AGGRESSION: not aggressive/aggressive/very aggressive/frenzied

CONFIDENCE: cowardly/cautious/average/brave/foolhardy

ASSISTANCE: helps nobody/helps allies/helps friends and allies

LOSE AS COMPANION PERMANENTLY:

Too many dislikes

Attacking the Railroad

Selling Billy to slavers in Kid in a Fridge

Killing Kent Connolly in The Silver Shroud

Siding with Covenant

Destroying Acadia

Destroying Far Harbor

Raiding the Commonwealth for Nuka-World

PERSONAL MISSION:

After Graygarden has been recruited as a settlement, Kaelyn receives a message from her mother asking her to come home. When the player and Kaelyn enter Diamond City, they are directed to the greenhouses where Eromi works. She will show them her sickly crops and request that Kaelyn and the player find her some pesticide to curtail the problem before it creates a food crisis.

The player and Kaelyn can go to either Graygarden or Vault 81 (if the Vault is open) to collect the pesticide. Upon their return to the greenhouses, the player and Kaelyn assist Eromi fix the water distribution in the greenhouses, and, with her thanks, the quest ends.

Later, Kaelyn will receive a message from Nate that she has to return home at once. If the player does not agree to immediately travel to Diamond City, she will leave of her own accord. In the city, the player discovers that Eromi is sick from an unknown poison, more crops are dying, and Nate has been ordered to crack down on smugglers selling food in the Lower Stands.

With some investigation, the player learns that Erica Beattie, a prominent Upper Stander who owns the greenhouses, is the saboteur. She has been manufacturing a food crisis to drive up prices and cull the population of low-income citizens. When confronted, she threatens to have both Eromi and Nate fired and blacklisted to stop Kaelyn from exposing the plot.

The player can either encourage Kaelyn to fight for change (thus keeping her family in Diamond City) or protect her family (resulting in the family moving to Vault 81 to join Nate’s family). In either instance, the story is leaked to Piper, who prints a Publick Occurrences article on the sabotage, triggering protests in the Lower Stands. If Kaelyn’s family remains in Diamond City, both Eromi and Nate are fired and become the unwitting faces of the protests. If the family returns to Vaults 81, they are safe and Eromi’s expertise allows the Vault to increase the amount and quality of its produce, while the protests in Diamond City eventually fizzle out.

Tagged by @mrninjapineapple (a very long time ago)! Given I’m so late to the party, I won’t tag anyone but if you haven’t done it, feel free to give it a go!

#fallout 4 #oc companion meme #i may have also gone overboard with this #kaelyn prescott

46 notes · View notes

shineonyoucrazyyandere · 5 years

Note

I would love another Giorno yandere post! If you can do love bits and making out then that would be awesome! Maybe a childhood friend who moved away and meets him again when he is a Don? I also love the way you write and I am excited to read what you come up with for any request you get and write for. Have a great day!

Ooh Pbftfbt Thank You and - I just saw this, Don’t mind me haha…It’s a definite done deal so let’s start this thing! Oh and don’t mind the formatting guess this is a scenario thing, kind of devolved from headcanons into a little story on accident.

Yandere! Don! Giorno Giovanna /childhood friend (Scenario/a few started headcanons)

-Giorno would likely be very obsessive if you had anything to do with his awful childhood

- His charisma would come off very strongly in a sweet sickly way

-If you’re in Naples you’re likely staying there if he’s there

Little hope was left for the young Giorno Giovanna. A neglectful mother who spent her free time partying, and an abusive father at home. Bullying from neighborhood kids, it was a hellish scenario for a young boy. Safe to say these events made him think very lowly of himself.

He was slightly surprised when someone didn’t act that way. You. Another neighbor didn’t swing at him in discontent, nor sneer in mockery. No, you were eager for a friendship. Was he not scum to you? He didn’t quite understand at first.

You didn’t seem to mind that he didn’t talk much, rather you’d try your best and ask about things nearby. You’d point out you liked the color of the ocean, a specific species of flower that a person had been growing, or a peculiarly shaped rock you found messing around on the sidewalk. It seemed something fit for someone younger but he found himself to enjoy it oddly enough.

Much so it became something that made his heart flutter with happiness. Each and every time he was kicked to the ground, beaten by his father, or bullied he’d think of those moments you’d play with him, or give him a little trinket.

Though normalcy seemed short lived after those precious weeks.

He found your mother one day looking around for you frantically. He offered to help since he was around you the most. Yet when he and your mother did find you it…was horrific. The passion in your mother’s eyes as she screamed and came to grab your frail and battered form off the ground. Your hair had been cut by scissors, blood was sleeping down several places on your body.

Her profuse cursing was drowned out by his rapidly beating heart. Why would someone do this? Innocent. You were innocent. Did they not care? He was the scum they were supposed to beat. What was he supposed to do about it?

After that he didn’t see you, only your mother going in and out of your home with other people, until even her presence was gone. She must’ve moved you out of the house after the hospital trip.

He’d continually look at the small item you gave him after that. Obsessing over it and how you were harmed.

Giorno even tried to inquire about you after he saved that Mafia affiliated man’s life. You had already left Naples to a rural town in Northern Italy by that point.

As disheartened as he was he could wait…he’d see you again eventually.

After events that lead to Giorno to Passione and eventually becoming Don of said organization after* (Giorno is aged up to 18 from here on out btw)

By some sheer amount of ungodly luck Giorno spots you at a restaurant in Naples. He reassures himself that it’s you over and over in his head.

He’d casually introduce himself to your table out of the blue. You would be spontaneously surprised at his presence and the change of his hair color.

You two would catch up on details of your lives (naturally he wouldn’t let on about him being the Don of the mafia).

Just about everything that leaves your lips is internalized into his memory. Even your plans when you were intending to leave Naples.

Giorno would end up paying for your meal and anything extra you wanted. He’d definitely insist on this.

His heart irrationally races after you leave, finally knowing you were safe and sound. He could finally keep track of you after all this time.

Speaking of he’d find your hotel and mode of transportation that you used quickly.

Although he’d be very busy with running a Mafia, every spare second he had would be spending time with you. The hotel room you were in would be spontaneously upgraded to the nicest suite in the hotel.

Anytime you need refereshers on directions (or just flat out short cuts to avoid crowds) He’ll be eager to guide you.

It doesn’t seem all that harmful at first but you’d definitely notice his presence more often than usual the longer you stay in Naples.

“Oh Giorno I didn’t see you there…”

He’ll give a lovely smile that absolutely exudes charisma, much so chills go down your spine. It was almost creepy how charming he became.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you y/n”

You could just barely pass that off as him knowing the city real well and you both just bumped into each other. But your mind ate up at you otherwise.

Then there was a couple days where you could totally relax simply sightseeing, a few museum visits and such. Though you would end up with a nice treat in between that people seemed to eagerly offer you.

On the night before you’d supposedly leave, Giorno ends up inviting you to dinner. Anything you preferred. It was a mere distraction as he was getting anxious at the thought of you leaving again. He could show you much more if you just stayed a little longer.

He could make you happy, just as the city of Naples had.

When you return to your hotel room you’d go straight to the shower and change your clothes for bed. By the time your usual routine was over, you were sleeping soundly.

Without you noticing your belongings, mainly your purse and phone would be turned into animals just small enough to get under the crack of the bottom of the door.

He’d take any physical passes for the train you had, anything scheduled out of Naples would be canceled. Of course he couldn’t have you abruptly leaving either…so he’d have to keep your phone on his person. Speaking of phones he already made sure the one in the room with you was hidden away from your grasp as well, while you were out earlier in the day.

Waking up you’d be horribly distraught over finding your phone. At first you wanted to call down at the desk but there wasn’t a phone in the room. Even though you were sure there had been one before.

You would be too late for the train that recently left twenty minutes ago. On top of that your passes were missing anyway.

By the time you were done searching the room you were panicked if you had been pickpocketed by somebody. Eventually you would bump into Giorno who happened to be very receptive to helping you.

He’d suggest looking up in your room one last time before going to the police.

About five minutes into searching again the blond claims he found it. You ask where and he responds it was simply tangled up in the blankets as he holds it up casually. Eagerly you asked for it back but he didn’t hand it back to you.

“Giorno. I need my phone back please”

He would merely hold the device towards himself refusing to. You would advance towards him and attempted to grab the phone out of his hand. Only to feel something furry moving in your hand before quickly dropping it.

A mouse.

“W-where’s my p-phone Giorno?”

He told you wouldn’t need it right now and you insisted why.

“There’s no reason for you to leave so soon”

You’d be both confused and horrified at what he was saying.

His grip returns to clutch your dominant hand that once held the mouse. The instinct to tell you to run would be screaming loudly but you just couldn’t. Something told you that he would figure out you’d try and run.

Abruptly he’d take your hand that was currently in his own and gently kiss the top of yours. You became even more nervous as you instinctively put your other hand out on his chest to keep him at bay.

His free hand of course would end up taking ahold of that one you were trying to push with as well.

“I-I…” was all you were able to stutter out

It would be the only partial thing you’d end up saying. His face would end up near the crook of your neck. His warm lips would gently fall onto the surface of your skin. Again, and again. All until your lips were almost touching.

He’d pause for a moment and directly look at you as you would jerk your head back freaked out.

““I only wanted to see what interests you had…just everything about you made me fascinated and well I don’t want to see you hurt by anyone else”

By some strange manner your head ended up closer to his and eventually his hold on your mouth was too strong to slip out of.

He’d let you get a breath in here and there since you weren’t used to it. Any moment you tried to fight you’d end up in a deeper kiss. All between your tongue being played with his and yours being danced around, to simple small butterfly kisses.

Your arms were at their sides with his hands still gripping yours, lightheaded-ness followed suit. In a short few minutes he had left you breathless.

The utter yearning in his eyes was a bit frightening.

“Let me do this for you,hmm?”

#giorno giovanna #giorno jojo #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere headcanons #part 5 jojo #golden wind #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jjba #yandere jjba

188 notes · View notes

dingoes8myrp · 5 years

Text

Gilmore Girls: Being Dad Takes Practice

This is a one-shot Gilmore Girls fanfiction set sometime after A Year in the Life.

Stars Hollow never changed. Every time Jess visited it was like stepping into a time capsule. 2002: perfectly preserved.

The streets were vacant, which was typical after midnight in a small town. Creepy, maybe kind of cool. He couldn’t decide.

His Jeep Cherokee was the only car parked at the diner. Slightly eerie.

He was hauling his rucksack and laptop bag out of the back seat when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He groaned and rolled his eyes.

“Of course,” he muttered.

He’d been driving for about three hours bored out of his mind, plenty of time for a phone call, but someone picked this moment to call. Probably Jason or Shawn trying to get him to come out to some bar, forgetting he was out of town.

By the time Jess unlocked the door to the diner his cell phone had stopped vibrating, and he promptly forgot about it.

He re-locked the door and headed up to the apartment, flipping on the overhead light. It was basically one room with a few strategically placed pieces of furniture. How Luke ever got Lorelai to go out with him after taking her back to this place was still a mystery.

Jess stopped at the bathroom to take care of some long-drive-related business. His next move was to dig his comfiest pair of sweatpants out of his bag. He emptied his jeans pockets onto the desk: keys, wallet, phone. He heard the damn phone vibrating as he changed into his sweatpants.

“Ugh. Really?”

He folded his jeans and set them on the edge of the bed. He noted the fresh comforter with a decidedly feminine but subtle floral pattern. He made a mental note to thank Lorelai. There was no way Luke would have picked that comforter out, or made the bed in a style he could only describe as aggressively hospitable. That bed had definitely been made by someone who’d spent the bulk of her adult life in the hospitality business.

Jess picked up his laptop bag and pulled out a rumpled manuscript he’d come across at work. They didn’t get a lot of hard copy submissions these days. Mostly digital. The typeface had caught his attention. There was a slight unevenness to the lettering that made him think of a typewriter. This thing was old school. Someone had bought paper just the right tooth and heaviness, typed and re-typed pages at a typewriter, roughly bound it themselves, and mailed it. Enough time had been put into this draft, it deserved to be read by somebody.

He was supposed to be writing. That was the whole point of this particular excursion.

Well, he didn’t need to write the second he got there. He could take a few minutes to flip through a piece he hadn’t gotten to before he left work. Sure. That was fair.

He sat in the rickety wooden chair that clearly wasn’t meant for comfortably sitting. He’d have to grab a chair with a cushion from downstairs or something.

He’d just flipped past the cover page when the phone vibrated again. A short burst this time. Probably a text. He ignored it and started reading “Firehouse” by Edward Ray.

I was eight years old the first time I saw a fire. A real fire that swallowed a house. It was my neighbor’s house. I’d seen it every day for as long as I could remember. Mrs. Ellis always smiled and said hi to me. She was the nicest lady in the neighborhood. I watched her house disappear in front of my eyes. The air smelled like burning wood for days and Mrs. Ellis never scrubbed the smoke smell out of her favorite robe.

The phone again. Jess’s eyes ticked over to its illuminated screen.

That was one too many phone buzzes too late at night.

He picked up the phone and swiped the screen to read the alerts.

2 missed calls.

1 new voicemail.

1 new text message.

He checked his missed call log and found a number he didn’t recognize.

He read the text message from the same unknown number.

Hey Jess. This is Logan. Sorry to bother you so late. I’m sure you’re asleep. If you get this please call me back. Not quite an emergency, but definitely important.

Jess frowned. He didn’t really talk to Logan Huntzberger much on a social level. They both came to the same family gatherings on occasion and they were mostly cordial, but he wasn’t somebody Jess exchanged texts and phone calls with. Jess called up his voicemail and listened. Logan’s familiar lighthearted tone came through, but there was a slight strain to it that was a little alarming.

“Hey, Jess. It’s Logan. I thought maybe I had the wrong number until I heard your voicemail message.”

A piercing scream in the background made Jess wince. Little Lori Gilmore was only really fussy when she didn’t feel good. But, she was hands-down the worst patient he’d ever encountered.

Logan’s voice had gone softer and sounded far away.

“Okay, sweetie. Shh, it’s alright. We’re gonna get through this, little lady. Promise.”

Jess could picture him cradling the red-faced toddler, trying not to drop his sleek cell phone. There was a fumbling noise on the other end.

“Hey, sorry. You probably heard that. Miss Lori is not a happy camper and, uh…”

Logan gave a nervous laugh into the phone.

“I gotta tell you, I’m struggling here. I know Rory’s got that D.C. thing so I’m trying not to bother her, and I don’t want to freak out Lorelai if I can avoid it.”

There was another tiny but definitely unhappy scream from Lori in the background.

“I, uh, I gotta hang up. Please call me back if you get this. I’m just… I don’t know, man. Help me out, here.”

By then Logan’s normal too-thick charm had worn off and he simply sounded tired and desperate.

Jess cut off the voicemail and sighed heavily. He couldn’t say he was terribly fond of Logan, but the guy was trying. He saw Lori every other weekend like clockwork. He came to every birthday and almost every holiday. The only time he’d ever canceled was that time he’d taken a client to a sushi bar in Denver, which had led to what Rory had referred to as “bathroom-destroying food poisoning.”

It wasn’t enough, in Jess’s opinion, but it was consistent. It was an effort, and that counted for something.

Regardless of how Jess felt about Logan, Lori was one of his favorite humans on the planet. She was definitely a Lorelai. She was bubbly and excitable, at times hyper as the Tasmanian Devil. She was stubborn, strong-willed, and smart. She was such a pleasant kid to be around, and it sucked that she was sick.

Logan could feel the heat coming off Lori as he held her. Fever. That was definitely a fever. Right?

Or was she just worked up from crying all night? That was a thing, wasn’t it?

Thermometer. He needed a thermometer.

Did he have a thermometer? He couldn’t remember.

He cringed as Lori screamed right into his ear and her little sobs shook her whole body.

“I know,” he cooed. “You poor kid.”

He bounced her gently as he paced his apartment. Well, it wasn’t really his apartment. It didn’t feel like his yet, anyway. He’d had it carpeted and furnished, but he hadn’t gotten to spend a lot of time there yet. It didn’t have a lived-in feel.

Logan was singing quietly under his breath. When had he started singing?

“What would you do if I sang outta tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me? Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song. I will try not to sing outta key.”

Her sobs softened a little, so he kept singing, kept rocking. He kissed her head and remembered something about kissing a kid’s head to see if they had a fever. Who had told him that? Surely it never would’ve occurred to his mother. Had he seen it on TV?

It didn’t matter. He’d try it.

Her head still felt hot. Fever. Definitely a fever, he decided. He didn’t know how bad a fever. Could you take a kid to the ER for a fever? Should you take a kid to the ER for a fever? Was that a panicked parent faux-pas?

Who the hell else could he call?

His cell phone rang and he looked around frantically.

“Where is it?” he gasped.

He checked his pockets, the counter, the coffee table. All the while it rang and rang.

“Alright, where’d your dumb dad leave his lifeline, Lor?” he muttered.

He found it on the kitchen table. He must’ve paced his way out there at some point. He felt a flood of relief when he saw Jess’s name come across the screen.

“Oh, thank God.”

He answered the call, cradling Lori carefully in one arm.

“Jess, hey.”

“Hey. What’s goin’ on?”

Jess sounded like he always did: kind of bored and slightly annoyed to be speaking. But Logan was happy to hear that voice.

“Oh, man. I’m unraveling over here,” he admitted. “I have Lori at my place. Well, my new place, and she seemed fine until about two hours ago. She just woke up screaming. I gave her some juice and some Cheerios to see if maybe she was hungry. Big mistake. She threw up everywhere, so I dealt with that. Then I changed her and that was another natural disaster that has yet to be named. But we dealt with that and she seems to be doing okay with the water I gave her. But she’s just miserable, and I think she has a fever. But I don’t have a thermometer – I don’t have anything here, man. I don’t know if I should maybe take her to the hospital or…”

Panic had been rising significantly in Logan’s voice as he talked, and Jess had listened carefully to pull out the facts.

“Okay, slow down,” he broke in. “How long ago did she throw up?”

“Uh… About an hour.”

“And the diaper situation?”

“Same.”

“Alright. What’d she eat today?”

“Uh… This stuff Rory packed. She didn’t seem to want to do a meal, so she was kind of snacking here and there. She had some yogurt, some cereal with milk, cereal without milk, applesauce. I tried to cut up a banana for her, but she didn’t go for that.”

“Oh, yeah. She doesn’t seem to like the texture,” Jess said. “Loves to mush it into the couch, though.”

Logan laughed.

“Yeah, I lost track of the banana pieces. That’ll be a fun surprise later.”

Jess sighed on the other end.

“She could just be sick. It happens. Do you have any liquid Tylenol or Motrin, anything like that?”

Logan tried to think.

“Uh, hang on.”

He set the phone down on the coffee table so he could hold Lori while he dug through the bag Rory had left him. He pulled out a storage bag with what looked like a medicine bottle in it.

“Flintstones vitamins,” he muttered.

He also found cream for diaper rash, band-aids, and a tiny tube of sunscreen. He rocked Lori as she let out another wail. He’d almost gotten used to it at this point. Logan walked quickly to his bathroom, knowing it was useless, but he had to check. After ransacking his medicine cabinet and bathroom cupboards, he finally got back to Jess on the coffee table.

“Jess?”

“Yeah.”

“Man, I got nothin’.”

There was a stretch of silence just long enough to make Logan’s heart pound just a little.

“Where’d you say you were again?” Jess asked.

Lorelai sat curled up on the couch in about four-thousand blankets.

Okay, it was more like four, but she’d literally grabbed every blanket she set her eyes on and wrapped them around herself like some crazy blanket hoarder. Crumpled tissues littered the coffee table. She’d given up on trying not to contaminate her surroundings as soon as Luke started sneezing.

The kettle whistled in the kitchen where he was making tea. They’d both given up on sleep hours ago, and they’d moved downstairs when trying to sit up in the bed failed to prevent the post-nasal drip or stave off the nausea.

“Alright,” Luke announced. “I double-brewed you a chamomile and put some ginger in there. It’s gonna taste disgusting, but there should be enough honey in there to make it tolerable.”

His gruff voice was hoarse and nasally. He set the red mug down in front of Lorelai and she rested her head back against the couch cushion.

“Ugh. What happened to the foamy chai?”

“That has caffeine.”

“So? I like caffeine. Caffeine and I are the oldest of friends. I could genuinely argue that caffeine was my first love.”

“And milk.”

“What did milk ever do to you?”

Luke grimaced as he sat down. His muscles were aching.

“Milk creates phlegm,” he explained, “which isn’t good when you’re already making your own.”

He gestured toward the tissue massacre on the table.

“It’s also bad for nausea,” he concluded.

He sipped his own plain mint tea. Lorelai sighed and picked up the mug.

“Fine. But this better make me feel better,” she muttered.

She sipped it. It was indeed disgusting and it did not make her feel better.

The doorbell made them both jump and look at each other.

“Are we expecting anybody?” Luke asked.

He genuinely wasn’t sure. Suki tended to drop by at odd hours. Sometimes Lane, but she normally called. Lorelai stared at the door.

“No. I don’t think so.”

Luke stood up, putting down his mug.

“What are you doing?” Lorelai hissed.

Luke paused mid-step around the coffee table.

“I’m answerin’ the door,” he said.

Lorelai looked horrified.

“Uh, no you’re not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Luke! Have you paid any attention at all to any horror movie ever made?”

Luke rolled his eyes as he headed for the door.

“No.”

Lorelai stood, shuffling past the coffee table trying not to drop any of the blankets and failing miserably. She trailed a train of blankets behind her as she tried to beat Luke to the door.

“Luke! Stop! We can’t answer the door if we don’t know who it is!”

“How the hell are we gonna know who it is if we don’t answer the door?” Luke demanded.

“Liv Tyler!” she cried.

Luke stopped and turned to her, a confused look on his face.

“Excuse me?”

Lorelai coughed and held up a finger to tell him to wait until she stopped. He did, but he glanced over his shoulder when the doorbell rang again.

“Lorelai.”

“Liv Tyler,” she repeated. “Liv Tyler got murdered horribly by those creepy mask people in The Strangers.”

“Oh my God,” he groaned. “What are you talking about?”

Lorelai smacked his arm.

“The Strangers! Liv Tyler and Scott Speedman go to this cabin and he’s in a tux, she’s in this beautiful dress, and he has everything all set up with candles and rose petals…”

Luke gave up and turned back toward the door. Lorelai got the rest out in a rush.

“And it’s super romantic and awkward because he asked her to marry him and she said no, but then somebody rings the doorbell and Scott Speedman answers and it’s this creepy girl and she’s all ‘Is Tamra home?’ but they don’t even know Tamra.”

“I’ve aged fifty years standing here. What is your point?” Luke barked.

“They got murdered, Luke! Like, really hardcore murdered. I am Liv Tyler in this scenario, and it’s worse for her because she didn’t even answer the door and she got murdered anyway.”

Luke paused to think about that.

“Wait a minute, if they both got horribly murdered, how is it worse for her than for him?”

Lorelai sighed, annoyed.

“Because she wasn’t the one who answered the door, inviting the murder into the house!”

With a huff, Luke opened the door.

Jess blinked back at him.

“Hey. Sorry, I thought you guys were up.”

“We are,” Luke said. “What’d you just get in? You get into the apartment okay?”

Jess frowned.

“You didn’t get my texts?”

“No,” Luke said. “What texts? What’s goin’ on?”

Lorelai came up behind Luke. Her nose was red and raw.

“Hey Jess,” she said. “Everything okay?”

“Here, come in,” Luke said.

He stepped aside. Jess took in the scene as he walked into the house.

“What happened to you?” he asked.

Luke shut the door.

“What? Oh. I dunno, some kind of bug.”

“The flu,” Lorelai insisted.

“It’s not the flu,” Luke argued.

“It feels like the flu!” she called.

She coughed as she headed back to the couch, flopping down with her mountain of blankets.

“We got flu shots. It’s not the flu,” Luke said.

“Actually, just because you get the shot that doesn’t mean you won’t get the flu,” Jess said.

Luke gave Jess a wide-eyed look.

“What are you doing to me?” he whispered.

Luke had been trying to convince Lorelai she didn’t have the flu, even though admittedly it did feel an awful lot like the flu.

“See? I told you!” Lorelai said.

“It’s not the flu!” Luke called.

He coughed and Jess backed up a step.

“Well, this explains Lori,” he muttered.

Luke frowned.

“Lori?”

“Yeah. Logan’s got her and she’s sick.”

“Oh no,” Lorelai said. “Oh, poor Lori.”

“Poor Logan,” Luke added.

“Oof. Yeah, that’s not gonna be pretty,” Lorelai agreed.

Jess shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Yeah, he needs something for her fever. I guess he hasn’t completely moved into his place in Hartford yet. I figured I’d run him over some stuff.”

Luke and Lorelai looked at one another and Luke studied Jess.

“You’re gonna run a few things over to Logan,” he repeated.

Jess looked from him to Lorelai and shrugged.

“Yeah.”

Lorelai laughed.

“Oh, boy. If my granddaughter wasn’t sick and I wasn’t actively trying not to puke this would be a little funny.”

“Wait, why’d he call you?” Luke asked.

Jess sighed.

“He didn’t want to bother Rory ‘cause she’s working that thing in D.C., he didn’t want to freak you guys out, so he called me. Anymore questions? Can I loot your house for sick toddler supplies now?”

“Okay, but leave the liquor and the cash,” Lorelai said. “I got big plans for those.”

Logan’s right shoulder was killing him. Any time he put Lori down she started screaming. At least if he held her she seemed to stop now and then. Singing seemed to help, too, but he was running out of songs he knew all the words to.

“Alright, how ‘bout this one?” he said. “Dear Prudence, won’t you come out to play? Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day. The sun is up, the sky is blue. It’s beautiful and so are you. Dear Prudence, won’t you come out to play?”

He searched his brain for the words.

“Dear Prudence… Dear Prudence… Fuck, how’s the rest go?”

He cringed and looked down at his daughter, her face all red and puffy.

“Ooh. I probably shouldn’t say ‘fuck,’ huh? That’s probably a bad dad move.”

She scrunched up her little face, her lower lip trembling. Logan held her close to his chest and rocked her.

“Okay, no more Prudence.”

Logan’s apartment was in Hartford. Expectedly, the building was nice. Modern. It didn’t have the charm of the New York City apartment building Jess lived in that dated back to the 1800s.

Logan buzzed him in as soon as he rang. Jess hopped into the elevator carrying a grocery bag of supplies in one hand and a big stuffed bunny in the other.

When Jess knocked he heard Logan’s quick footsteps and Lori’s inconsolable crying. Logan opened the door with Lori in his arms. They both looked worse for wear. Logan gave a strained smile.

“Please tell me you’re here to rescue me.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jess said.

He came into the apartment and shut the door.

“I just… I can’t get her to stop crying,” Logan said. “I mean, she has these, like, tiny moments where she stops for a second, but I think it’s just to get more air.”

“Yeah, when she’s sick she’s a totally different kid,” Jess said.

He set the bag and bunny down on the coffee table.

“Want me to take her for a minute?” Jess asked.

“Yeah, go for it,” Logan said.

Logan carefully handed Lori over and Jess held her against his chest.

“Hey, sweet baby girl,” he said. “What’s going on, pal?”

Lori buried her face in his neck and he touched her head and her back. She was sweating and warm. She sobbed and cried. Jess moved side to side to rock her a bit.

“Alright, you’re okay,” he said.

He turned to Logan.

“Go into that bag right there and get the thermometer please.”

Logan nodded and rifled through the bag. He came back with an ear thermometer. Jess took it.

“You turn this on, wait for it to start flashing, then you put this part in her ear, wait for it to beep.”

Logan nodded and watched as Jess took Lori’s temperature. When it beeped they both looked at the screen.

“Oof,” Logan said. “A hundred and two.”

Jess handed him the thermometer.

“Yup. Go back in the bag and get the Infant Tylenol and the little plastic syringe.”

Logan pulled out the box of Tylenol and read the back.

“So I just suck it into the syringe. Got it.”

Logan went into the kitchen to prepare the dose while Jess rocked Lori. She still fussed, but she’d stopped screaming. Logan came back with the syringe.

“You gotta show me how you got her to stop crying,” he said.

“I just rock her side to side like this. Almost like you’re swaying more than rocking. Puts her to sleep too.”

Logan handed Jess the syringe.

“I’m assuming there’s a technique to this.”

Jess smiled.

“Not really. Just hope she swallows it before she realizes it tastes like shit.”

Jess held up the syringe in demonstration and Logan watched as he repositioned Lori and put the plastic syringe between her lips. In a moment the liquid was gone.

“Look at that. What a trooper,” Jess said.

He shrugged, handing Logan back the syringe.

“That’s all there is to it.”

Logan nodded.

“That’s gonna take care of her fever?”

“It should,” Jess said. “Just wait and see. I also brought some other stuff and that bunny’s one of her favorite snuggle buddies.”

“Awesome. Thanks, man.”

Logan stretched his neck.

“Hey, do you mind if I hit the bathroom?” he asked.

“No. Do what you gotta do,” Jess said.

He sat down on the couch with Lori.

Rory took a break from typing to wipe her nose, which had been running pretty steadily for most of the day. She tried to focus on the piece she was writing. Her laptop screen seemed so bright. Her eyes stung.

Her phone dinged on the bed beside her and she picked it up to read the screen.

Mom: What does the flu feel like?

Rory frowned and typed out her reply.

Rory: Dare I ask?

Lorelai: Does it feel dizzy and sweaty and maybe slightly pukey?

Rory called her mother, who answered immediately.

“Hi. I might be dying.”

Luke yelled out in the background.

“You’re not dying! She’s not dying, Rory.”

Rory tried not to laugh.

“Well, now I’m all confused.”

Lorelai sighed.

“We’re sick, kid. Like, really sick. Room spinning, head throbbing, stomach churning. Luke’s bones are aching.”

“Ick.”

That didn’t bode well for Rory’s runny nose.

“Indeed. Huge ick,” Lorelai agreed. “And I need to apologize in advance for infecting Lori.”

“Lori? Oh, no!”

“You promised you wouldn’t say anything,” Luke called.

“I can’t not tell her, Luke!” Lorelai replied.

“Tell me what? What happened?” Rory asked.

“All I know is she’s sick. I’m expecting a full report soon.”

Rory stood from the bed, laptop forgotten.

“How sick?” she asked.

“I don’t know, honey.”

She broke away for a coughing fit and Rory had to hold the phone away from her ear.

“Mom?”

She heard Luke talking, but didn’t catch what he was saying.

“Hello? Mom? Luke? Axe murderer?”

“Hey, Rory,” Luke said. “Sorry. Your mom’s hacking up a lung because she dumped my tea in the sink.”

“What?”

“That tea was disgusting!” Lorelai called.

Another coughing fit commenced in the background.

“Is she okay?” Rory asked.

“Yeah. She’s getting a cough drop out of her purse.”

“Oh, God. That could take a while.”

“Oh, she dumped it all over the floor already.”

“Yikes.”

Rory looked out the window of her hotel room. There wasn’t much of a view. She was on one of the lower floors, so she could see a dumpster and a parking lot.

“So, what happened with Lori?” she asked.

“Well, Jess came by--”

“Jess?”

“Yeah, I guess Logan called him to ask for some help.”

Rory creased her brows, not sure she understood correctly.

“Logan called Jess?” she asked.

“I know, must’ve been desperate.”

“Why wouldn’t he call me?”

“I guess he didn’t want to worry anybody. Maybe he’s embarrassed. Kid’s used to being good at everything. But, being dad takes practice, you know?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“He’ll get it,” Luke said. “And Lori’s gonna be fine. It’s gonna be a rough night, but she will get better and she will be fine.”

Rory smiled.

“Thanks, Luke. I’m gonna call Logan.”

“Oh, you can’t call Logan because your mom promised not to tell you.”

Rory rolled her eyes.

When Logan came out of the bathroom Jess was sitting on the couch holding Lori, patting her back with the TV on low. Logan looked at the screen.

“What’s this, Law and Order?” he asked.

“Doesn’t matter what you put on. She likes the TV. I think if it’s too quiet it freaks her out.”

“Right,” Logan said.

He studied the other man, who looked so natural sitting there holding Lori, so calm. Logan was a mess. He felt a pang of envy, but he also felt humbled.

“How do you do it, man?” Logan asked.

Jess looked up at him.

“You’re good with her,” Logan said. “Look at her, she’s feeling like crap but she looks so relaxed, ready to sleep.”

Jess shrugged.

“I’ve just had more practice,” he said.

He looked at Logan for a moment.

“I just know her routine, what she likes, what she doesn’t like. You just need more time with her.”

“Yeah, well, if I could clone myself that’d be no problem.”

Logan flopped down on the couch beside him and looked down at his daughter.

“That’s the thing,” Jess said. “It will be a problem.”

Logan frowned at him.

“Right now she doesn’t get it,” Jess said. “She’s little. All she knows is who’s around a lot and who’s not around a lot. So you have time to figure out who you want to be. You wanna be the guy his daughter wants at all her soccer games and birthdays? Great. Then be that guy. Or you’re gonna be the guy who works a lot and sends her expensive gifts she doesn’t want because you don’t know what she likes.”

Then Jess looked up, and Logan was ready to be mad at him. But the look on Jess’s face was sincere and warm, if a little hard.

“Don’t be the guy she can’t count on,” Jess said. “You don’t have to know what medicine to give her, or what her favorite stuffed animal is. You just have to be there.”

Logan nodded. Jess shifted to hold Lori out to him.

“You wanna take her?”

Logan was nervous to disturb the tranquility that had descended since Jess came in the door.

“She might start screaming.”

“She might,” Jess agreed.

Logan considered it and sighed.

“Alright, Lori. Cut your dad some slack. He’s kind of a dipshit.”

Jess handed her over and Logan cradled her like Jess had. She stirred and fussed, so he put her back on his shoulder. Jess stood.

“Keep an eye on the fever,” Jess said. “If it doesn’t come down in a few hours, call Rory. You might have to take Lori to the hospital, and Rory will be pissed if you don’t tell her.”

Logan nodded.

“Let’s hope we don’t have to go that route.”

Jess watched him for a few seconds.

“I’m gonna get going,” Jess said. “You got this.”

Logan smiled.

“Thanks, Jess. Seriously.”

Jess gave a nod and headed out the door. As he shut it he heard Logan singing to his daughter.

#gilmore girls #jess mariano #logan huntzberger #lorelai gilmore #luke danes #rory gilmore #fanfic #dingoffgg

4 notes · View notes

monokuroo · 5 years

Text

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Or at least post-Valentine in my part of the world. I hoped you have a wonderful date with your significant other.

But if you’re like me who’d rather hang out with my 2D husbandos (yes I have a sad layf lol), then let the eligible dads of Dream Daddy be your date!

If you tell me 2 years ago that I’m going to play and love Dream Daddy, I would probably laugh my ass off.

Released in 2017 by Game Grumps, Dream Daddy is a dating sim where you can customize your ‘dadsona’ and as the name suggests, you can date different kinds of dads. There are 7 dads in total but let’s start by making the dadsona who will date these dads.

At the start of the game, you’d be prompted to customize a dad to your liking. Think of it as the simplified version of the Create-A-Sim menu in The Sims.

So here’s my dadsona, Bae Summers.

Isn’t he good-looking? I loved that egg nipz shirt! hehe

Once you meet all the dads, it’s time to date! You have to message them on the game’s version of Facebook, the Dadbook. Each dad has 3 dates that need to be passed. Aim for S or A rank to ensure a good ending.

Or, if you’re like me, you can turn to guides such as these https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=1085165969 and https://allgamers.com/article/2932/dream-daddy—guide-to-unlocking-all-dad-endings.

You’ve done all the things above and now you’re ready to push that message button. So the next question would be…

Who is your Dream Daddy?

You’ll see mine at the end. 😉

Craig Cahn

The main reason I got this game! After watching Kelsey from this video I had the urge to get his end!

MC’s college buddy and partner-in-crime. But when they meet again, Craig is already a responsible father of three.

Wait, there’s more.

He’s also a businessman, running a sports business. Also, he’s a health junkie. He trains every day, jogging around the neighborhood with his baby strapped on his body. To top it all, he coaches his twins’ softball team. Such a busybody.

Bae: My ultimate sexual fantasy is you. 😏😏😏

Craig’s ending, his route, heck even his kids did not disappoint! I would play his route again and again just to see his daughter River. She’s, like, the cutest kid in this game!

Seriously, though, I’m shipping MC with Craig because their bond is something. I love the whole bromance to more-than-bros going on. The confession scene at the end is sweet and cute. Too bad the game’s pretty short. I would have liked to see more of these two.

That third date, though. 🤩

Another reason to love Craig’s route is that, unlike the other dads, he has none of those minigames. So you can just safely play through this route without worries of a failed date.

(There’s a mini-game where Craig invites you to do the treadmill. But in my game, it didn’t appear on his route. Rather, he invites you when you are in another dad’s route.)

Mat Sella

Mat is the owner of the coffee shop in the neighborhood. He loves music, coffee, and his daughter Carmensita.

After ogling at Craig, I’m not sure I’d like Mat. But there’s a certain charm to his awkward personality. Like how he looks flustered when meeting people, which, at first glance, is totally unlike him.

Bae is so thirsty I kennot. 😂

But Matt’s really sweet and thoughtful to everyone. Contrary to his belief that he doesn’t like crowds, he’s rather good at taking care of people. It’s nice to see him complimenting MC’s personality. Together, they look like cute awkward teens and that’s…adorable.

The last date and the scenes leading up to the ending are so sweet. I loved how they get so flirty with each other. Mat is just giggling and flirting with the MC. That’s the happiest I’ve seen him in the game.

Brian Harding

Brian is MC’s rival dad. From the first time Brian and MC meet, this dad keeps on one-upping our MC. So for the rest of the route, they work through their rivalry thing.

Hence, this route contains the most nerve-wracking minigames! Brian invites the MC in different activities such as playing golf and fishing. And since, MC is competitive as ever, you as the player have to win them all!

So if you’re planning to get all of Steam’s achievements, I can only wish you luck. I admire you for having the patience I can never have. Because you’ll need a lot of it to finish Brian’s minigames, especially the golf part.

As for Brian and MC as a couple, I find it hard to see any chemistry between them because of their constant rivalry. But once I realized what Brian is doing, I found it cute. It’s nice to see them sort out their differences in the end.

Also, his daughter, Daisy, is a bit of an uptight at first. She keeps on correcting Amanda’s jokes which had me rolling my eyes a lot of times. But Amanda’s really chill so she teaches Daisy to be a bit more laid-back. Then, the two of them makes an adorable pair of siblings.

Robert Small

Robert looks wild and gruff, someone giving off a dangerous vibe.

MC’s first encounter with him is when he and Amanda visit Mat’s coffee shop. There, Robert checks out MC, staring darkly from the corners of the shop. I admit, he gives off a creepy vibe on that scene.

If MC decides to go out at night, he’ll go to a pub where he’ll be properly introduced to Robert.

Anyway, the other characters call Robert as an enigma. He’s such a mystery to everyone due to the cryptic way he speaks. You can never EVER get a straight answer from him. I can’t help but roll my eyes every time he speaks like that…

One of those rare moments that get him to speak what he really thinks.

…I guess I really am no good with people like him because it feels like he’s belittling other people with the way he speaks.

Surprisingly, I loved the ending. Robert did have some baggage. But I think he has the most realistic ending. I appreciated his no kiss-and-tell personality because at least he’s really clear with what he wanted in his relationship with MC.

Another surprising part of this route is Mary. It is already weird to have her hitting on MC on his first night in the neighborhood. Being friends with Robert, she is not someone to be messed with.

But Mary’s actually a really good friend. She doesn’t look like it, but she cares for Robert. And I appreciate her for that.

Damien Bloodmarch

When I watch Let’s Plays of the game, whenever players meet Damien, they’ll all have the same reaction — “Vampire Dad? No way!” But whenever I scrolled through the comments, everyone says that Damien is just misunderstood.

Those mixed reactions are really intriguing.

Damien dresses and acts like a Goth and has a love for the Victorian Era. Because of this, he gives off a standoff-ish vibe.

Damien is a sweet and romantic guy. Underneath his classy look lies a cute cinnamon roll. He proves that you can’t judge a book by its cover. His route is like watching a slow and old-school romance unfold. Like, how he prefers handwritten letters (with seals!) over Dadbook messaging.

And I loved how everyone could tell that they’re sooo in love with each other to the point of teasing them. I even love the part where Amanda saw them kissing in front of their door because that’s like a reversal of their position as dad and daughter.

Also, he’s a fudanshi. 😏

He has a collection of SasuNaru fic? 😏

Hugo Vega

Hugo is Amanda’s teacher. Being a person of authority, he’s pretty uptight.

Hugo is, well, nerdy. Other than teaching middle and high schoolers, he writes scholarly stuff and he’s very knowledgable with high brow lit.

He’s knowledgable. Period.

But he has another hobby: wrestling. He’s got a room of wrestling things. And it goes without saying that he knows a lot about it, a huge fanboy. That and those teach-me-wrestling-moves had me 😏.

Thing is, I enjoyed Hugo and his son, Ernest moments more in Damien’s route. Unlike Damien’s son, Ernest didn’t really show his appreciation for Hugo in his dad’s route. Meanwhile, in Damien’s, due to certain events, the relationship between Hugo and Ernest have a big leap. They have a more familial atmosphere around them in the end.

Or maybe, Ernest is busy on other things…

Joseph Christiansen

I have mixed feelings about this dad.

Joseph freaking Christiansen is a youth minister at the church. He’s the husband of Mary and father to the freakishly looking kids, Chris, Christian, Christie, and Chrish.

My initial reaction when I meet him and his family: YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU CAN DATE HIM!?

Just look at their names. I feel like I’m committing a sin.

Also, he spends most of his route being extra sticky to MC, like being sweet and clingy. I could definitely picture him staring longingly to MC, giving off mixed signals.

It’s uncomfortable knowing Joseph is married to Mary. She’s not the nicest neighbor. But after playing Robert and Damien’s routes where she is a good friend, she’s grown on me.

AND NOW I’M SNATCHING HER HUSBAND.

You’re being such a good friend MC. 🙄

So other than the names and his wife’s existence, Joseph intrigues me in the previous routes. During Amanda’s graduation party where MC talks to each character, Joseph asks MC to hang out with him anytime he’s free. He’s not telling MC that in a casual way. It’s more of like this:

… which is like silently pleading MC to notice him.

When MC did, he so brilliantly dumped him.

Which brings me to another reason why this route brings me discomfort.

Joseph’s best end is in the opposite direction with the other dads. After flirting around, he’d tell you that he’ll go back to his wife. And that’s perfectly okay. That’s a good thing, mending a broken family.

But it feels like MC is subjected to a needless embarrassment and rejection for someone who’s only stringing him along. He’s just a rebound, a one-night stand.

I couldn’t help but compare Joseph with Robert, because of their internal issues and how they treat MC. Thanks to this, I ended up liking Robert more, mainly because he’s very clear with what he wants and puts a distance from MC as he fixes his life.

Now I kind of regretting leaving Joseph for last since it taints a charming game. It’s like Joseph lives in a different world, far from the sweet worlds of the other dads.

===

So to answer my question above:

Craig is the love of my life in this game. Though I loved everyone, in all fairness. I just especially loved him. Even MC agrees,

For my favorite in the game – Craig > Damien = Mat > Robert = Hugo > Brian > Joseph. Or it can actually be Craig = Damien = Mat = Robert = Hugo >Brian >>> Joseph.

Everyone is farrrr better than Joseph. lol

So who’s likely to be your date among the dads of Dream Daddy?

As of this writing, Steam is having its Daily Deals and Dream Daddy is included. Snag this game over there and have a fun post-Vday celebration!

Next post will be my one and only reason to play Dream Daddy.

The Eligible Dads of Dream Daddy #dreamdaddy Happy Valentine's Day! Or at least post-Valentine in my part of the world. I hoped you have a wonderful date with your significant other.

#Dream Daddy #Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator #Dream Daddy: Dadrector&039;s Cut #English VN #Game Grumps #visual novel game

2 notes · View notes