#I also side note since I’m rambling here wonder why some people feel reality is what you make it and turn to hedonism | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tsukifanbase · 4 years

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Obey Me! Brothers Realize They Don’t Want M/C to Leave Devildom

Authors Note: aaaaaa not much to say here except.... enjoy!

Warnings: fluffffyyyy, lil bit angsty but like so is all of my writing hehe, nothin too bad

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Lucifer:

- idk i feel like luci already kinda suspected he had fallen head over heels for you

- i alsoo feel like he probably tried to push you away after he noticed you had stolen his heart

- never fear though, dear (m/c)! because lucifer didn’t quite account for how difficult it would be distance himself, either because you kept popping up at just the right time or because he subconsciously missed you :)

- anywhosie roll the tape lol

- lucifer vaguely wondered where all the time had gone

- just a few moments before, he was grinding through a ton of paperwork for your return to the human realm, and it hit him like a ton of bricks

- you were leaving

- it stunned luci, sure, he had known you were leaving at some point, and he was literally signing papers confirming that very fact, but it hadn’t quite clicked for him yet

- for a moment, he felt no sadness about your leaving, only shock and confusion

- not about how fast the past year had moved, more so, luci found himself hating the thought of not having you by his side

- it stunned him, keep in mind, all this time luci thought he was keeping you at a distance, when in reality, maybe you were so easy to love that he hadn’t even noticed when he let you get closer

- lucifer snapped out of it, and glanced around his office, his eyes landing back on the paperwork that he had abandoned

- the date printed across the paper was the same one he had memorized so long ago, the day you were leaving

- luci pushed himself away from his desk, and practically ran walked quickly to your bedroom

- you didn’t notice when he walked into the room, you were distracted, staring at a framed photo of the brothers and you at some event you went to in the past

- you were smiling, and lucifer felt himself melt when he saw that

- and in that moment, it didn’t matter that luci used to see you as a distraction

- because he realized that he loved you

- and with that new knowledge, his next move came easily

- after all, lucifer would never allow someone he loved so dearly to ever slip through his fingers, ever again

- “lucifer?”, your voice broke his train of thought, he was smirking at you, you weren’t quite sure when he had begun observing you, it wasn’t that you really minded though

-”is something troubling you?”, although he had that flippin gorgeous smile spread across his lips, you always had a knack at knowing when something was wrong

- lucifer didn’t stop smirking, but he made his way over to you

- “may i?”, luci gestured for you to hand him the photo, which you did pretty much immediately

- luci lifted the photo up closer so he could see you better, and then he chuckled as he handed the item back to you

- he pointed at mammon, “i seem to recall having to pour my drink on him that day”, lucifer chuckled to himself

- you looked surprised for a second, then squinted your eyes at mammon in the photo, his shirt was half drenched in an unknown, red liquid

- “i always wondered how he got soaked!”, luci smiled at you, then crossed his arms knowingly

- “do you want to know why?”, lucifer’s eyes remained glued on you, you were seemingly caught off guard, you then nodded

- “why?”, you asked, tilting your head slightly

- “he planned to ask you to dinner with him that evening”, luci seemed embarrassed for a moment, then his smirk returned

- “so why did that warrant getting a drink poured on him?”, you questioned, and lucifer took him eyes off you for the first time since he had entered the room, he sighed, then brought his gaze back to yours

- “because i recognized how much i hated sharing someone that was mine”, he chuckled, a light pink spreading across his cheeks, “especially with mammon”

- now i wish i could say you looked shocked, you didn’t, you looked smug as hell lolol

- “i don’t want you to return to the human realm”, lucifer lightly picked up your hand that wasn’t holding the photograph, he figured he would be straightforward

- you grinned at him

- “then i guess i’m not going back to the human realm”

Mammon:

- okay okay so lets be real here we all flippin knew mammon had a crush on you

- that included mammon actually

- he didn’t suppress his feelings like luci, in fact mammon had always been pretty open about the fact that he liked you, a lot

- mammon also realized you were leaving soon

- and that put faze one of his plan into action

- his logic was pretty flawed on this one y’all, but mammon figured, you couldn’t leave if hypothetically your transfer papers weren’t signed, or you were late for school that day, orrrr... i think you can see where i’m going with this

- mammon was determined, he would not let you leave devildom that day

- and that brings us to you, an hour late for school already, because your alarm hadn’t gone off

- you pulled on your uniform, and double checked that all your bags were packed, before making a mad dash out of the house of lamenation

- you checked your watch as you ran to the school, yes, you had definitely missed most of first period, but as long as you were in the school by the end of the day, you would be returning to the human realm without an issue

- or so you thought, turns out mammon had a million different things planned to keep you by his side indefinitely

- he had bribed your first period teacher to give you detention for being tardy, since he knew the teacher probably would have let you off the hook, seeing as it was your last day

- and yes, mammon spending his money on someone other than himself was usually unheard of, but who can say? desperate times call for desperate measures

- sometime before lunch hour, you wandered into the bathroom, making sure you looked decent, after all, you hadn’t really been able to check your appearance that morning

- in the mirror behind you, you saw three lower class demons wander into the restroom, giving you an evil smile that you just knew meant you would be late to your next period

- it was then that you realized something abnormal was clearly wrong

- the demons that had entered after you hadn’t said anything, nor made any more to hurt you, they simply stood by the door, knowing you weren’t going to take any chances with trying to get past

- they were keeping you in there, so what was their motivation?

- someone must’ve put them up to it

- eventually you were able to leave, the demons seemingly lost interest, you sighed and made your way to detention- it took place during lunch hour

- you took your seat in detention, and after a bit, you heard your teacher, that was supposed to be monitoring you, leave the room

- the teacher didn’t return, and the bell for your next class rung

- you walked over to the door, and attempted to open it

- the door was jammed

- because of course it was

- instead of yelling for help, you sighed and pulled out your phone

- you had a pretty good idea of who could’ve been behind all the bad things that had happened to you that day

- your phone barely rang once, before mammon picked up

- “hey, (m/c), what’s up?”, you could almost feel the nervousness dripping off his voice

- “mammon, why am i locked in a classroom right now?”, you replied, and just as you could hear mammon’s nerves, he could nearly hear the absolutely terrifying, ‘im gonna kill you’, smile that you had on your face

- mammon chuckled nervously, “sorry (m/c)! it’s for your own good!”, then he hung up

- you scowled at your phone, then went to call levi to tell him to come let you out

- it was pretty clear that mammon didn’t expect to see you sitting in your last class of the day, one of the classes the two of you shared

- he walked in with a big, smug smile on his face, which very quickly turned to a look of surprise, then fear

- mammon nearly walked out of the classroom, luckily the teacher was there to drag him back in by his jacket

- he sat down next to you, and attempted to pretend like nothing was wrong

- “hiya (m/c)! how’s my favorite human’s day been?”, you stared at him blankly

- the teacher still hadn’t started the lecture yet, so it gave mammon time to finally admit and explain his master plan to you

- he was sheepishly glancing away from you by the time he was done whisper rambling, he mumbled out a quick and quiet, “’m sorry, okay?”

- the teacher finally started lecturing the class about devildom history of something, when you broke out into a fit of quiet laughter

- mammon completely disregarded the teacher, blushing furiously, he thought you were laughing at him

- “hey it’s not that funny”, he pouted a bit before you seized your laughter, and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself

- “you know you could’ve just asked right?”, you giggled a bit after you whispered that to him

- “huh?”, that caught mammon off guard

- “you could’ve just asked me to stay here with you”, pink dusted your cheeks, “i like you too mammon”

- you just killed him good job

Leviathan:

- ok ok ok levi is bb

- it took a little while for levi to actually trust you

- cos we all know that it takes a while for babe to warm up to people

- but hun when he finally does start wanting to be around you, you can bet that you’re his new bff

- it’s so cute like

- by the end of your stay in the devildom, you’re hanging out with levi pretty much every day (i say pretty much bc he is an introvert, he likes his alone time, so while you spend most of your time together, expect that he’s gonna want to be by himself sometimes)

- anyways

- you two got to know each other really well through hanging out so much, and levi caught feelings really quickly

- you were the first real person to ever show interest in the things he liked, and the first person to really listen to him

- you were kind to him, and also assured him that you enjoyed your time spend together, even when levi tried to insist you would never want to hang out with a yucky otaku

- so that brings us to the day you had to leave

- you had spent the morning in levi’s room, and had noticed that he was being clingier than usual (although ‘clingier than usual’ for levi literally just means that he was sitting like an inch closer to you than usual lol)

- the two of you were just about to beat the final boss in your favorite video game

- you hadn’t really noticed how much levi was staring at you, after all, your focus was completely trained on something else

- but i assure you, levi found himself glancing at you every few seconds, almost like he was trying to make sure you were still there

- it flustered him, and levi found himself blushing at the thought, but he cared for you more then he ever could have imagined

- remember, levi hadn’t ever really had a true friend, other than henry, of course

- he had been lonely for so long, and now that he had someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life beside, who could blame him for not wanting to let you out of his sight?

- and while that could’ve been deemed as possessive, it seemed levi was just acting out of fear

- he was afraid, because he really didn’t want to see you go

- you dealt the final blow to the boss, causing the credits for the game to roll, and you let out a sigh of relief

- you turned to grin at levi, and give him a high five in celebration, you lowered your hand when you noticed that levi was already staring at you

- his expression not quite blank, levi looked sad

- “levi?”, you tilted your head at him curiously, that seemed to snap him back to reality, and caused a deep red blush to settle on his face

- you smiled briefly before standing up to put the controller on a side table

- “is something wrong, levi?”, you turned back towards him to ask your question, “you’re not exactly as happy as i thought you would be after beating that boss”, you giggled to yourself when levi covered his blush with his hand, he was probably embarrassed that you had noticed

- “no, nothing’s wrong”, you could barely hear him, he was mumbling

- you went back over to where levi was sitting, kneeling so you were at his level

- “you’re sure that nothing is wrong?”, you placed a hand on levi’s knee in a soothing manner, his blush deepened, any physical contact usually did that to him

- levi was covering his face with both his hands now, then he said something, his speech was muffled by his hands, you couldn’t make out what he said

- he huffed, then dropped his hands from his face to cross his arms across his chest

- “could you stay with me?”, levi whispered, “please?”, this time you heard him clearly, and you smiled in a way that made him go fuzzy

- you carefully raised one of your hands up to levi’s cheek, cupping his face, then you pressed a kiss to his other cheek

- “i thought you’d never ask”

Satan:

- okay so pretty much here’s the run down

- satan typically wasn’t one to share his reading time with anyone else

- while it was extremely easy to ignore outside distractions while he was concentrating on a book, satan still preferred to read in isolation

- something about the calming atmosphere, no other care in the world but his book, it was satan’s getaway from the hectic life he lived

- he never was willing to share that getaway until he found you reading in the library about a week into your stay in the devildom

- it was the first time that he wasn’t even remotely annoyed by another person’s presence during his reading session

- of course you weren’t silent, but he found himself comforted by your being there

- ever since that point, it was pretty common to find the two of you reading in the library together

- although satan found himself drawn to you even when neither of you were reading, sometimes he would find himself sitting on the edge of your bed, doing his schoolwork while you played a game on your d.d.d.

- if satan was being honest with himself, you were probably the first person he had never gotten angry with

- you never gave him any reason to get upset, and he adored that about you

- you were like a breath of fresh air

- that brings us to the evening before your departure

- you had slipped into satan’s room while he was sitting at his desk doing schoolwork, he noticed you entered, but it was so normal for the two of you to seek each other that he really didn’t feel the need to comment on it

- you settled yourself on his bed, and quickly lost yourself in your book, not noticing when satan would occasionally peer back at you over his shoulder

- it was probably about an hour after you had entered the room that satan finished up the paper he was writing

- he glanced over at the clock, internally sighing at how late it had gotten, then he turned in his chair to look over at you

- you had your head propped up on your hands, but your eyes were closed, and your breathing steady- you were asleep

- satan walked over to where you were lying on his bed, lightly taking your book from you and placing it on the bedside table, before he pulled the covers over you

- satan sat down on the bed beside you, carefully, so he wouldn’t wake you

- he smiled when you mumbled something in your sleep, and moved a strand of your hair from your face

- “i wish you wouldn’t leave me yet, my dear”, satan turned away from you to turn the lamp off, allowing the room to be engulfed in darkness

- “so who do i ask to rip up my transfer papers?”

Asmodeus:

- hmmm well we all know that asmo adored you in every way

- he finally had someone to go shopping with! someone who wouldn’t eat his things or steal everything once he paid

- the two of you were pretty much inseparable, it was cuttteee

- you were a regular on his social media, and all his fans loved you just as much as he did

- asmo insisted on helping you do your makeup and choose your outfit one day early in your stay, and from that day on, it was pretty normal for him to burst into your room each morning to help your fashion game

- and pretty soon he was taking you to all his favorite shops and treating you to delightful food (he wanted to take pictures of it for his fans)

- the day you were supposed to leave the devildom, asmo woke you early, as if this were just any other day

- he decided to treat you to a special going away shopping trip, and said that anything you desired was as good as yours

- let’s get to the scene!

- asmo was holding up a shirt that was exactly your style, he had always been good at picking things you liked

- needless to say, you weren’t really focused on the shirt, and asmo would’ve been delighted to know that he was clouding your mind

- you didn’t want to leave the devildom, not only because you had come to see the brothers as family, but because you didn’t want to leave asmo

- all the time you had spent together had made you realize just how much you cared for him, and you were pretty much just waiting for asmo to ask you to stay

- “hmm? what’s this? my dear (m/c) you’re not getting distracted by my beauty, are you?”, he teased, glancing over the shirt before placing it back on the clothing rack.

- pink spread across your cheeks, and you shook your head, before going to look through the accessories

- you were close enough that you heard what he said next

- asmo let out a deep sigh, “i just can’t seem to focus today, knowing that i won’t be able to shop with my dear anymore”

- you turned to face him quickly, speaking before either of you really recognized what you said, “then why don’t i stay?”, you covered your mouth after those words slipped past your lips

- you looked up at asmo nervously, and found him staring back at you with utter awe, then it turned to joy

- asmo dropped whatever clothing he was holding and ran over to hug you, his grin brightening the room

- “do you really mean it?”, asmo asked hopefully, to which you nodded, and he squeezed you into another hug, you sunk into his embrace

- “i’m so glad”

Beelzebub:

- ok other than asmo, i think beel was probably the fastest to warm up to you

- although that could’ve been because of your talent with cooking (honestly you could just be making box mac and cheese and beel would still love that you were cooking for him XD)

- it was probably a few days into your stay when beel was casually complaining about being hungry, he was usually ignored by his brothers when his stomach rumbled, so needless to say, he was a little bit surprised when you offered to make him something

- he nodded, followed you to the kitchen, and boom you got yourself a lovable, hungry boy as your new bff

- from then beel pretty much came to you ever time he was hungry between meals, because while he could make himself food, he enjoyed your company and honestly just liked it when you cooked for him

- that means we talkin about midnight snacks, brunch like every day, afternoon meal, you and beel were spending a lot of time together

- beel started coming to you not only because he was hungry, but because he wanted to see you

- you would tell him stories about the human world and about your life while you made cooked, and beel started to love the faraway look in your eye as you reminisced

- he found himself drawn to you, your familiarity, something about you felt like home, although he wouldn’t have put it that way

- beel only realized that he liked being around you, and when he found out you would be leaving him soon, he only seeking you out more

- you guys were sitting in the kitchen, it was early in the morning, before breakfast

- you were making pancakes, still rubbing the traces of sleep from your eyes

- little did you know, that was probably the first time ever that beel didn’t really feel like eating, and he zoned out staring at a pancake thinking about that very fact

- if he wasn’t hungry, then why did he ask you to cook for him? why did he seek you out, and wake up early to go ask you to do something that wasn’t necessary?

- “beel?”, you asked, noticing that the pancake you had set in front of him a few minutes prior was still untouched

- you walked over to where beel was sitting and placed a hand on his shoulder gently, he felt himself relax into your touch, “are you okay?”, you asked him quietly, you were just a tad bit concerned that he wasn’t eating, you had never seen a piece of food survive in front of him for more than three seconds before

- and just like that, beel spoke before he even truly realized what plaguing his mind himself

- “can you stay in the devildom?”

- you stared at him in brief surprise before your face broke into a smile

- “sure, if you eat the pancakes i made you”

Belphegor:

- ok ok ok ok so we all know that belphie had some trouble with humans when he first met you

- butttt as soon as you two became friends, he started noticing all the things he used to love about humans, all within you

- you found joy in little things, lived your life taking on every new challenge, one after the other gracefully

- you were empathetic, and it always stunned him, but you never got angry with belphie after he tricked you

- if anything, you treated belphie with more kindness than he deserved, because you recognized that he tricked you, and kinda sorta tried to kill you, because he was in pain

- because he needed to blame someone else for his sister’s demise, so it wouldn’t break him

- anyways, once belphie began trusting you, he wanted to be around you constantly which you were totally okay with haha

- you reminded him of someone who was dear to him once, and it made him want to stay by your side forever

- okkkk so needless to say, belphie was 1000% a bad influence on you haaa

- like he was clever enough to get away with things he shouldn’t have gotten away with

- for example, lazy boyo was lazy, so he would show up to class late pretty much every day

- however, unlike other students, belphie would just kinda appear in his seat at some point during the class

- it made the teacher question if they were going crazy or if belphie had just been there all along and they hadn’t noticed

- like the teacher would literally do a double take, like they’re scanning the room to ask someone a question and their eyes land on belphie, and they just go, ‘hang on’

- you rarely saw belphie doing his school work, yet he would always have perfect grades

- anyways back to the original point

- belphie had curious ways of getting what he wanted, and that was no different the day you were scheduled to leave

- the two of you were sleeping, it was nearly noon, and you had been contemplating your escape from belphie’s arms for the past hour

- you had to be at RAD by the end of the school day, and at that rate, you would have missed the goodbye ceremony completely

- so it was either risk upsetting diavolo, prince of the devildom, or your sweet, sleepy boy

- you decided to take your chances with the one you knew better, and began the process of removing yourself from belphie’s grasp

- you took a deep breath of relief once you were out of bed

- it wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy cuddling with belphie, deep down you probably wished you could stay curled up with him forever, but you knew that you had to leave

- you wandered into the bathroom connect to belphie’s room, and started brushing your teeth

- when you finished brushing, you turned back towards the bathroom door, where belphie was leaning, rubbing his eyes and yawning

- you froze, and then you gave belphie a guilty smile, “good morning, bel”

- belphie crossed his arms, “where do you think you’re going?”, he never liked being woken up early, it always put him in a bad mood

- you looked at belphie curiously for a second, had he forgotten you were leaving? now that you thought about it, he really hadn’t ever acknowledged that you would be returning home, not once had you ever talking about it

- “i-”, you started, unable to finish your train of thought, as bel interrupted you

- “you’re leaving?”, he asked, but instead of sounding angry like you expected, his tone with playful, and you finally noticed a folded slip of paper bel was holding between his fingers

- you tilted your head at him, “bel?”, he smirked at you and stepped closer, holding out the paper for you to take

- you took the paper from him carefully and unfolded it, scanning over the printed words

- it was a document, one regarding your residence in the devildom, and at the bottom of the paper, was lucifer’s signature

- “bel? what is this?”, you glanced up at him, he was staring at you in the most loving way you could imagine

- “the paperwork that means you can stay”, belphie said carefully, picking up your hand and playing with your fingers

- you stared at him in disbelief before pulling him into a hug, “thank you, bel”

595 notes · View notes

angeldormante · 3 years

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Hi!! Im the Leo-withdrawal anon! I didnt ask anything prior to the one you just answered, but I'm so happy you responded! I'd honestly listen to anything you write--I think you have a wonderful way of expressing yourself, and the way you write is just... *chef's kiss* I guess, a question I'd have for you is this: What sort of hobbies do you headcanon our fearless leader to have? Quirks? Both endearing and... less so? I think that'd be a fun start!

hokay.... finally getting around to this!! sorry for the wait and thank you for bearing with me, anon! (ty for the compliment, too -- i'm very flattered jfjflk i just like talking about turtles ok (•̥ ̫ •̥) )

now... lemme talk blue to ya.

if we're talking about hobbies, well. stop me if you think you've heard this before -- leo loves training. for all of the guys, ninjutsu is a way of life; it's how they survive the world, how they connect with themselves and one another; it's their entire culture that the foundations of their family is built upon. and that's super neat. but watch 2k3 for like, one episode, and you'll very quickly see that the only one that fully leans into it is leo. mikey and don have their own interests that they often can't get to quickly enough once the day's training session ends. i think raph actually enjoys training recreationally as well -- but he's more interested in the physical aspect, spending his energy, bulking up, not necessarily focusing on skill or technique. i like to imagine that growing up, leo and raph spent a lot of time in the dojo together doing their own thing, kind of "separate but together"; before casey came along and raph got into hanging out topside with him.

leo, though, he throws himself fully into training. he's incredibly dedicated to it not only because of his sense of responsibility, but because he genuinely enjoys it -- he enjoys improving his technique, his skill. he enjoys the repetition of learning, which helps to calm and center him. he enjoys meditation, which helps him focus and clear his mind. as an introvert, and precisely because his family doesn't hang around the dojo as often as he does, leo's solo training time is his time -- it's his chance to relax and decompress. i think it's exactly why he spiraled harder and harder in season 4 no matter how much training he did: at that point, it was no longer a hobby, but an obsession. leonardo normally uses training as a healthy outlet, but when he channeled his exodus trauma into it, he removed his main method of decompression and replaced it with the intent to fuel that exact trauma. (sidebar, though i've talked about it before: i also feel like this is why fast forward is so excellent at showing leo's character growth. he is extremely zen and such a huge advocate of healthy self-reflection in the way he coaches cody and his clone. my sweet boy, so proud of him in that season.)

now i know what you may be thinking. and you're right. there's more to leo than his life in the dojo... so let's talk about some other hobbies i like to think he has!

so here's the thing, and i think it's something else i've touched on before... but i think leo actually has a very strong bond with donnie. their temperaments are very similar, they feel similar burdens when it comes to protecting the family, etc... and to be honest, i think they bond a lot over the same nerdy hobbies too! i think leo is a huge freaking nerd.

i legit think that donatello has probably absorbed his brother into more than one of his hobbies, both unwillingly and not. some things click for leo, and some things don't. some things he has a hard time getting into until he discovers a certain aspect of it or views it from a different perspective. but he is very often willing to try anything.

for example, i imagine that growing up, leo and don played a lot of chess together. don used to overwhelmingly win, until they got older and older leo got deeper and deeper into the tactical aspect, and soon he was beating don quite soundly more often than he wasn't. don started getting into engineering manuals and physics books, while leo started getting into history texts and military treatises, but both shared a love for novels and would swap their favorites regularly. and they still play chess, of course.

don got into nerdy sci-fi shows. like, really into them. and leo couldn't quite pick up the thread on that one, but he was content to endure every fourth movie night when it was don's turn to pick. and slowly he began getting drawn into it, the same way anyone does -- he enjoyed the campiness of the plot, how absolutely ludicrous the fight choreography was, how sometimes there were actually deep and thoughtful moments. it was both a welcome respite from the intensity of his reality and something he could put to practical use if he had to, like, steal a spaceship one day, though the odds of that happening seemed pretty low⁽ˡᵒˡ⁾. he was never able to quote any of the episodes verbatim like donnie, but it was something they could discuss and lightly bicker about during the times when leo is mindlessly helping out around don's lab. (more on that in a sec.)

also? i can absolutely. totally. easily see leo as a tabletop game enthusiast. i think i'll refrain from getting lost in the weeds on that once, since this is already starting to run long, but i just want to put that in your mind. tmnt dnd gaming nights. let that sit for a second.

okay moving on.

i genuinely think that leo just likes existing in the general vicinity of his family and extended family. not necessarily doing anything; just being there, doing something with his hands. if don is working on a project, leo may drift in, and don will ask him to hand him certain tools or read aloud certain notes on the screen, because he knows the deal. if raph is lifting weights and leo wanders over from his own training session, raph may ask him to spot, or set up the next pair of weights, because he knows how it is. if mikey is sitting in the living room playing video games and leo appears on the couch next to him, he might toss him a controller, or he may just start blabbering about what game he's playing and what level he's on, because he's got it. if april and casey are tidying up her shop for a new shipment of merchandise and leo just randomly appears in the window, feathered duster in hand, april smiles and puts on water for tea and casey teases him and throws him a broom instead without blinking. because that's just how leo is.

the thing is, leo is one of those people who have such a strong presence that -- as long as he's not trying to hide it, of course -- you know he's there because he carries such an atmosphere with him. on the other hand, leonardo is the type of person who is genuinely content to just be in the background. which may sound totally at odds with the whole leader schtick, but i think it's just kind of this duality he has: he can be both at the forefront and in the background, depending on the situation and what is needed from him. does this mean he doesn't have his own hobbies or interests? of course not! but even canonically, throughout the series leo is shown to be just as happy with his hands off the reins so long as there's not a mission in front of him. and i think it's precisely this lack of that constant need for control that shows just how whole and rich leo's inner life is, how he feels full and complete without his leadership/big brother role completely defining him, and how season 4 rips that carpet from under his feet to show the unhealthy side of that particular coin.

so as much as a cop-out answer it may sound like -- i think that leo just enjoys doing things with his brothers. he likes rooftop runs with them. he likes pizza and cards with them. he likes movies, sports, and games with them. but he's also his own person, and he enjoys being in his head, and he has hobbies that help him make his head a healthy place to be; his family absolutely respects that quality, and leonardo is a much more well adjusted person for it.

er.... i didn't really get into quirks or bad habits, but this has run really long already and it's getting late, lmao. so i think i will stop here for now. =w= thank you for letting me ramble again about my blue boy, anon; i know i'm slow, but hopefully i rambled enough to make up for it!

#tmnt #tmnt 2003 #leonardo #meta #long post #if u aren't sick of me.... ofc i'd be happy to talk about the rest sometime flkjfds

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fredweesleyismyslut · 4 years

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Fred & George Weasley x reader Poly!headcanons

A/N:

Okay, so this might suck really really badly but bare with me I haven’t really written many headcanons before and me being the talkative little pig I am I ramble too much because there’s so many thoughts flying around and then I end up writing a whole bunch so I’m sorry and I will definitely try to improve in writing more headcanons but for now...I hope you enjoy!!!!

request: Hello if you write for poly relationships could you please do nsfw and sfw headcanons of the Weasley twins x chubby slytherin reader who is just the purest thing on earth and she wears cute skirts and resses in pastel colours and loves cute plushies pretty please?

SFW

Okay okay so, everyone is very surprised first year when you’re placed into Slytherin.

This is because during the train ride you just seemed so pure you were wearing your favorite pastel colored dress and looked basically like a real life doll

Essentially you were the human embodiment of an angel and no one could imagine you hurting a fly

You met the Weasley twins on the train ride and thought they were funny and as you were placed into Slytherin they both shared glances with each other clearly surprised as most thought you’d be a Hufflepuff

Well, yknow, as they say don’t judge a cover by it’s book

You were, however, the nicest Slytherin, you were constantly helping others, giving compliments as you passed people in the halls

Anyways, let’s get to the juice details now, you stayed friends with Fred and George all the way up to your fifth year, when they both started acting weird around you

It was as if they both couldn’t be around you at the same time, or else it was as if they were competing for your attention like two cats

Then, one fateful day, they came up to you at separate times and confessed to you, you spent the whole day thinking, stressing, not able to focus on your studies, until finally your friend asked, “What’s wrong?”

“How do you pick between your two favorite things, like let’s say you want cookies but you also want to have the yummy pastries on the side as well?”

Her response, sent a bell ringing through your head, “Why not both? I mean is there a reason you have to choose?”

As soon as she said that you shot up, “I gotta go do something.” You found Fred and George and pulled them aside, “Do I have to pick between you two? Because I love you both...and I don’t want one without the other…”

The twins shared a glance with each other, eyes glinting with mischievous, as they responded in unison, “Yes, we quite like that idea, darling.”

Since then, you were dating both boys, whenever, you had classes together, they would send little notes flying your way ranging from cute things like, “You look wonderful today, y/n.” “You look great in that dress.”

- You could tell apart the twins easily, unlike everyone most of the time, which resulted in them trying to play tricks on you a lot

You would play along for a bit before finally saying, “I can tell you two apart ding dongs, I’m not your girlfriend for no reason, now stop it or I’m ignoring you both for the rest of the week.” After that threat, they would immediately stop, begging for attention

On days, that you were feeling down about yourself because you didn’t look like the other pretty, popular girls they would cheer you up

They would bring your favorite treats, snuggle you between them, and say sweet things like, “Well, you look absolutely divine, y/n. And we love you, we prefer you this way it’s perfect for both of us.” Then, they would immediately start to tickle you, till eventually you accidentally kicked one of them off the bed then they’d burst in laughter

They are also especially protective of you knowing how kind and pure hearted you were and get quite heated if anyone insults you. As soon as someone even utters an insult your way it’s like their ears twitch and they turn around immediately, defensively standing in front of you ready to throw a punch.

Due to this there have been plenty of times you had to hold them back from beating someone to a pulp, and having to calm them down in a corner telling them it’s fine to which George responds, “It’s not fine. They’re insulting you and honestly you shouldn’t be fine with it either. You shouldn’t be fine with them walking over you because imagine if someone said stuff about us, you’d be angry right? You should be that angry when someone says that to you too...but we won’t go throwing punches if you don’t want us to? Right, Fred?” As Fred huffs before nodding and pulling you closer to calm his anger.

Dates with the boys are usually very light hearted you would go down to Hogsmeade and eat snacks together, or they’d set up a little picnic for you with cute foods that they tried, keyword tried, to make knowing that you like cute things

They also buy you cute plushies or clothes that they think you’d like and bring it on your dates saying, “It reminded us of you so….we got it”

Next thing you know, you have like 50 different plushies crowded in your room and you don’t know how to nicely tell them to stop bringing you so many plushies because it’s too cute but eventually one of your roommates tells them off when the plushies start to fill up on their side of the room too

One time they made cookies which were very cute, but almost broke your tooth off as you took a bite, resulting in you having to go to Madam Pomfrey

After that incident, they usually just buy the snacks or have their mother send them food as you love her cooking as much as she loves you especially because you keep her troublemakers in check

Sometimes though they will purposely make nasty things to see if you’d either pretend to like it and keep eating or actually tell them off, it’s their little mini social experiment/prank on you, which you catch on eventually, and whenever you notice that evil glint in their eyes you purposely play along and make sure they eat their nasty food first to see how long it takes till they break

Basically, these boys are just really sweet and treat you like you’re a freaking empress

NSFW

Now onto the spicy spicy details….

Fred usually initiates the contact, as he does with their pranks

He’s more so the dominating one as George follows along or sometimes watches before he jumps in, not able to handle the teasing you give him

Anywho, whenever you’re feeling down, especially being self deprecating, they both take you and show you just how much they love you, let me paint a picture:

As said, Fred usually initiates contact, you’ll be studying in the library and he’ll slide his hand up your thigh, watching as you shiver slightly from the contact goosebumps rising on your skin

Nonchalantly he asks, “Is it cold in here, darling?” Playing his game you reply, “Nope.” and smile smugly

This will, of course, set off his slightly competitive spirit as his hand goes further, tracing the outline of the fabric covering where you need the most friction

Then George comes into play, being just as mischievous he’ll play his brother’s game, sliding his hand up your other thigh as they both continue to stare at their books as if potion ingredients were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world

A slight moan escapes, as Fred’s finger starts circling your clit, wetness pooling in your center as they both tsk, “Y/n, you’ll have to be quiet, we are in the library after all.”

Anywho, ahem ahem, there’s usually a cycle you have going to make sure everyone gets the equal amount of attention, first it’ll be you and Fred as George, next you and George as Fred, lastly, all three of you

Fred will be pounding into you relentlessly, to blow off steam, especially if they lost a quidditch game, as George plays with your clit as you suck on his cock.

However, rough or gentle these boys are the aftercare is to die for

It’s filled with cuddles and jokes as the boys talk about what pranks they’re working on or new things for their joke shop

They usually clean you up, offer to give massages, and even if you decline they’ll both caress your bunched up shoulders working out any knots, as they trace your skin softly with their lips

But be careful, sometimes they’ll offer you drinks but in reality, it usually has some type of thing they’re planning for their joke shop, so sometimes you might end up being a guinea pig(They do test it on themselves before they test it on you though they’re not complete monsters)

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dexi-green · 3 years

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Okay so wrap up thoughts for ep. 4:

Where is Zemo? Do not let this man loose. Also bless marvel for releasing the longer cut of Zemo dancing earlier 🙏🏽

We love the Dora. However I wonder if the arm thing was a gag or if it’s going to come back. I could definitely see Buck having some questions and beginning to wonder whether they actually freed them or just put him under Wakanda’s control with a longer leash. He obviously has reason to be skeptical about people’s intention with him (see; how Zemo used him) I can definitely imagine them explaining that it was impossible to wipe out the WS controls but rather they just changed them and just never intended to use them, making him a sort of unintentional sleeper agent White Wolf for Wakanda. He is clearly very thankful and grateful to them, and is very close to the Dora, especially Ayo, so I could see that distrust being a good future character arc. But I stand by that with T’Challa in charge they would never seek to take advantage of Buck in that way. Also I was never a HUGE fan of Stan’s acting, I felt he got too hyped up for just brooding, like he was good but not Oscar worthy as some on here tried to say (you can just say you think he’s hot, you don’t have to lie about his acting to justify your adoration of him and watching his whole filmography, it’s okay I promise), but that scene at the beginning was actually amazing. I love the change between fear to relief and realization. Chef’s kiss.

As I mentioned several times, I love that this show is carefully exploring warring ideals, and actually saying them pretty plainly. It’s giving me what Civil War could’ve been. In Civil War there was just too many blatant misunderstandings and things that could’ve been cleared up if the Avenger’s didn’t share one (1) brain cell and it somehow ended up with Peter Parker who had homework to do. In this show, the ideals come from very understandable different perspectives, different lives lived. I know I want a conversation, but that alone won’t truly solve this like it would’ve in Civil War. It comes from very real criticism of our very real govt and society which I thinks helps cement this so much more in reality in a way that isn’t boring to watch like some other comic things that try to be gritty and realistic. The only part that has taken me out so far was the so very subtle cop scene in the second episode, which leads me into my next point

ISAIAH BRADLEY! Loop his story back in, let’s get some backstory and information and all that good stuff. Obviously Isaiah has made it pretty dang clear he wants nothing to do with any of this but obviously that’s not gonna happen, and it’ll be a tremendous waste of an absolute amazing and groundbreaking story to just bring Eli in at the end in some shoehorned way or something. Isaiah needs to be a part of whatever solution this story/season comes to. I’ve seen a theory floating around about either Isaiah being Wakandan (either like killmonger with one or both of his parents being from Wakanda, or more distantly) or perhaps Erskine’s secret ingredient for his serum was derived from the heart shaped herb (which would’ve made Cap White Panther 😬) which I think would be an interesting way to completely tie in Wakanda but perhaps a little unnecessary, specifically the first theory, we don’t need every future black person in the MCU to be secretly Wakandan. I just need his story to be more prominent then it has so far. It’s very important and not something that should just be a basically D grade side plot at this point.

I feel like we have shifted away from much focus on Sam. But I feel like the focus has pulled more on Zemo, Karli, Walker and Buck. Like Sam is doing what he needs but we aren’t getting as much insight into him as we did in the first episode. Which is why I think I liked his talk so much with Karli. We went back to his history of counseling and got to see how it uses it, how he calms down a situation, and his own insight into Karli’s ideals, he agrees but wants to go about it in a different way. We have constantly seen him offering help to others, but hasn’t really received much in return. I feel like now every time the shield comes up it’s just Bucky being all pissy that Sam gave it away which really turns me off his character. Sam already explained that maybe he made a mistake, but also Buck is so set in his way and his ideation of Steve that he can’t for a second consider Sam’s side. Like at this point it’s getting kind of annoying how Buck is being with Sam about it. I want more insight into Sam’s feelings about Steve, and Cap, and all that. Hopefully these last couple episodes with shift the focus back. At this point I feel I know more about Karli and John as people than I do Sam and that’s not great considering the title of the show. This was one of my earliest concerns for the series when it was announced, that it was going to focus too much on Bucky who has had his story almost front and center for almost all of the Cap films, they almost all in some part revolve around Bucky. Perhaps I need to rewatch and there has been some bits of Sam’s I haven’t appreciated enough, but it feels unbalanced, not in favor of him.

Sharon is being sketchy I fear. I do kind of like the idea that she is the power broker, but it’s hard to wrap my head around her threatening Karli like she has been. I mean she obviously has changed a lot, but if she is the power broker her motives have to be something different than what she is trying to lead people to believe. I think what’s more possible is her working for the power broker or perhaps working for/as the power broker as a cover for Fury or some other person/organization. She’s worked undercover for Fury before, she is obviously loyal to him, which might’ve changed since she talks to much about being abandoned by everyone, but I don’t know. It’s obvious something else is going on with her character, and while I love if she had just pivoted to this crime lord role, I just think of her speech at Peggy’s funeral and her loyalty to Cap and Fury in TWS. It’s possible she flipped on a dime like that because everything done to her and what she’s been through, and it may be too predictable for her to have the exact same storyline as TWS but who knows... that or she’s a skrull, always a possibility, can’t be too careful.

John Walker is clearly becoming the actual Anti-Cap. They are getting storybeats to line up. A ‘good’ soldier, turned propaganda tool, turned govt lap dog, serumed up, best friend dies, then what? Switched on by society? I love the moment with him and the flag smasher. It brought me back to when I was in the theater watching Civil War and I swore Steve was going to chop Tony’s head off with the shield. Steve just smashes the arc reactor of course, but John straight up murders this guy. And people are watching, the world is, people were recording. Definitely some purposeful similarities to our very real recording of police brutality irl. Which makes me think what will the govt response be? Will they spin it and try to get him out of this (which will feel really...weird? With the trial going on rn) or maybe will they abandon him completely and leave him high and dry? Hopefully we will see whoever the current MCU president is (prolly maybe Thaddeus Ross??) speak on it as well as the flag smashers and GRC. Walker is obviously not a good person at heart. I theorized before that he had already been given the serum, which clearly isn’t true so he has just taken it but there is something about his background that needs to be revealed. It has to be more than just “‘we did bad stuff while we were deployed” like... yeah it has a profound and damaging effect on people, but I feel like when he was talking to Hoskins it felt like they were remembering what went down slightly differently. I don’t know why, I’ll have to rewatch the scene. Either way, I think there is some stuff we still don’t know about Walker, something so terrible about him that made the serum change him like that. He was already clearly on edge, feeling insecure about people not giving him the respect he thought he deserved just from putting on the suit and carrying the shield, feeling that same imposter syndrome Sam did/does, and his pride was clearly DECIMATED by the Dora. He has this seeming obsession with super soldiers... he’s just giving weirdo vibes.

One thing I noted is that I think this series is taking apart Steve/Cap and spreading him out over several different people, and having them all pick at and dissect what makes/made Captain America the symbol he was, and what happens when you dig a little deeper. Karli seems to be the embodiment of the kindness/concern for others. She is fighting for the people, to protect them, as Cap was. But she is not holding back and is willing to put everything on the line, but where Cap was putting himself in the line of fire to protect people, Karli is putting others. Buck may be the classic idealism and Steve himself, I’m not 100 sure, but he seems to embody the kind of idea that people need something to put hope in, something to lean on, the idea of true good. He always brings up what the shield means and represents, doesn’t ever actually get specific though which is interesting. This may be because Bucky has a hard time separating Steve from Cap, since he saw the two grow up, when he talks about the shield and Cap he IS talking about Steve, there is no symbol or hidden meaning, just the Steve he knew. He conflates it all together. So I guess he represents whether or not the classic ideals can survive, the idea of hope, and Young Steve. Sam I think could be change. Where change is unwavering, like Cap’s fight for freedom never changed, but also where it is inevitable, in Steve and Cap’s place in a time that isn’t their own. How the idea of Captain America needs to be updated for modern times, or whether it should be thrown out altogether. I don’t know this is all ramblings. I though I had something but it’s almost 5am 😩

I believe we have 2 more episodes left so it’ll being interesting to see what they do with it. Fingers crossed 🤞

#tfatws spoilers #tfatws #tfatws liveblog #marvel #mcu #captain America #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson #Zemo #dora milaje #Karli morgenthau #Sharon carter #agent 13 #powerbroker #spoilers #episode 4

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cloveroctobers · 3 years

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LEVEL 1 — Perception

A/n: to make things easier due to my hectic work schedule...I’m deciding on writing blurbs or short fics for right now, to get content out in a timely manner. I’m open to writing pairings but I notice those don’t get that much attention but I’m attempting to do so anyways...at least at the start of this series which is absolutely inspired by we’re not really strangers. I love the game, it’s very personal and intense so if you have the chance, get it if you’re open to connecting with the people you care about in a passionate way. I’ve also decided to make the characters a little bit older...college wise/around the actors ages based on these questions lol even tho these teens are already dramatic + have a lot going on.

Synopsis: a interviewer that Spencer is very familiar with, Rochelle Mosley has resurfaced to complete her senior year project at Claremont as a journalist. Rochelle is all about going big and never going home, so the first person on her list is one of the guy’s that intrigued her the most not so long ago. So she reached out to Thee Spencer James and to put the word out to anyone else that might be interested. And here we are!

::: S. James + O. Baker ::: All to me

Rochelle is seen running her finger over her pearly whites, making sure they’re squeaky clean after eating her brunch which consisted of a poached egg, an açaí bowl, served with lemon water. She already spent twenty minutes brushing her teeth and whitening them last night to prepare for this moment. She knew this idea would guarantee her nothing but a A+. She had friends from the film department around helping her with the equipment and due to this Panasonic it made things chaotic opposed to having this interview face to face.

Rochelle knew that she could have at least met with Spencer for his half but decided to do what he was comfortable with. She wouldn’t push any boundaries...yet. Regardless it would have to be a video call since Olivia attended MassArt and appeared that she would not be coming back to California any time soon, according to her insta stories that is.

Nonetheless Rochelle knew how to negotiate so here she was working on their terms. With a sigh, she straightened out her posture, fixed the waves in her hair, reapplied some matte lipstick—again, glanced around her to make sure she liked her set up and eyed her friends to make sure they were doing what they were getting paid for, and plastered on a commercial smile as she connected the video call waiting on her two guests.

It only took a minute for Spencer’s face to pop in.

“Spencer!” Rochelle greeted which he replied with slight raised brows and a smile at her volume, “so glad you can be here and punctual at that.”

Spencer answered, “well you know, if I agreed to be something I don’t want to waste anybody’s time ya know?”

“Always the wise one aren’t you?” Rochelle commented before continuing on, “how are things? How is UCLA?”

“I really like it here, uh. I’m almost done with my sophomore year, but with the way things are looking right now? Might have to switch to remote this spring semester...we’re all basically on standby at the moment. It’s crazy times but we gon’ get through it, I know it.” Spencer chatted with ease.

Rochelle was multitasking looking to the side at her phone to keep track of time. Olivia Baker was five minutes late now, which was slowly working Rochelle’s nerves. The girl had her number and although they didn’t talk much through texts or through anything really, it was common courtesy to let someone know if you were going to be late or couldn’t make it.

“Yes! We have to keep a optimistic attitude as best as we can. I hope you’re being safe out there?” Rochelle met Spencer’s eyes, after silently debating if she should send Miss. Olivia a text.

Spencer dipped his head, “absolutely. And yourself?”

“Oh yes, honey. This thing is ruining lives unexpectedly but it’s insane to me that people believe this isn’t real. It’s the denial for me. Especially here in California! Then when they catch it, it’s suddenly a different tune. Sure the numbers might be a little questionable but not too much is a lie. Read the facts, do the research. But—

Olivia showed up. Eight minutes later...

Rochelle forced a smile, “Olivia Baker! How nice of you to join us.”

“I know, I know. I’m super late and I’m sure you don’t want to hear the excuses so let’s just dive right into this social experiment project thing you have going on. Sorry by the way.” Olivia rambled which Spencer chuckled at.

Olivia paused, “hey, Spencer.”

“Hey, Liv.”

Rochelle picked up on the chemistry or tension or whatever you want to name it. It was all still there and oh so fresh. She knew this would be good and knew they had to be the first on her list. Sure Rochelle maybe a year or two older than these two but she also had friends that were younger and gossipers like her so she always had the inside scoop when she needed it. So yes, she knew all about spelivia.

“How’s Boston?” Rochelle asked politely, breaking the two’s stare contest.

Olivia inhaled, “it’s better than California, that’s for sure. It feels like I’m getting a fresh new start and it’s just what I needed.”

“Yeah i see you’re at your best there. You seem to be thriving.”

“well yeah, because it’s new. Sometimes you need to get away, I mean I’ve been in California for eighteen years of my life. I always knew I wanted to be somewhere else...don’t get me wrong, California is still very much my home.”

Nice save there, Olivia.

Rochelle clasped her hands together with a wide smile after a small silence filled the air after Olivia’s statement.

“Moving right along, I’ve sent the both of you a series of questions that you both should have received correct?”

Spencer pulled the padded envelope from the side and waved it in front of camera. Rochelle smiled at how organized this guy was and shifted her glance to Olivia who widened her doe brown eyes.

“Ah, yeah I’ve got that. It should be around here somewhere? Hopefully. If it’s not then it’s definitely in the car.” Olivia pointed.

Rochelle sighed, “very well. Please proceed on retrieving the envelope, it’s crucial to this interview.”

Olivia scooted back from the desk and held up a finger as she disappeared from the screen. Rochelle turned back to the brown boy who was toying with the tan object.

“Have you read any of the questions, Spencer James?”

“I really haven’t had the time to, no.”

“Great!” Rochelle quipped, “this will make this experience truly authentic.”

Spencer thought about what was said, wondering where this would get him. He understood what Rochelle informed him in the email and she answered all of his questions. He knew this wouldn’t strictly be about him and Olivia since he invited his friends along for the ride as well.

“Please open the envelope as we wait on Olivia. BUT only read the first question on the first card, we don’t want you to get too far ahead of yourself since that wouldn’t be fair to Olivia.” Rochelle instructed while Spencer took a small inhale before doing so.

Spencer read over the card, his eyes flying over the words as he read them pretty quickly. He hummed at that which Rochelle began to question him on but Olivia announced her presence.

“I’ve got it!” She let out in a sang-song voice.

“Olivia, please open the envelope but only read your first card’s question. Spencer has already done so while we were waiting for you,” Rochelle instructed before turning back to the sophomore, “Spencer, whenever you’re ready please read the question and answer.”

How would the person closest to you describe you in three words?

Olivia halted as she pulled out her own card as Spencer showed the card while reading it from the side.

“I’d think they would say I’m...compassionate, hardworking, and...loving?” Spencer announced, taking his time on thinking that over.

It was Rochelle’s turn to hum as she asked, “Do you agree with his choices, Olivia?”

Olivia was confused. “W-what?”

“Would you say Spencer is: compassionate, hardworking, and loving?”

Olivia quickly recovered, “we don’t know if Spencer is referring to me on that question.”

“Spencer, when answering this question who are you saying is the closet person to you?”

“I—uh—I consider a handful of people that are close to me.” Spencer expressed, “but I’d be lying if I didn’t say Olivia isn’t the first person that came to mind. Even though there’s a shift right now in our...relationship due to the distance—among other things...we’re still the closest and that speaks for itself.”

Rochelle gave a smug smile as she looked at Olivia who opened and closed her mouth. Before Rochelle could encourage Olivia to read her question, she already went forth after clearing her throat a few times.

What reality show do you think I’m most likely to binge watch? Explain.

Olivia peered up at Spencer.

“Oh? I’m supposed to answer this about her now? Aight. Lemme see...i don’t know you seem to find a lot of free time to watch things...maybe it’s a film major thing? Months ago you were watching ‘I love New York, then you told me you and Simone were watching ‘Love is Blind’ or—

“It was actually ‘married at first sight’.” Olivia cut in.

Spencer widened his eyes and pointed at the screen with a small laugh, “that makes sense.”

“Why?” Rochelle wanted to know.

Spencer’s answer was firm, “that’s not our business to tell.”

Rochelle scribbled a quick note on that, ruling these two out on that question to ask later. She made sure to circle Simone’s name and put a question mark next to it.

“To answer your previous question,” Spencer redirected the interview back, “since a lot of these were love reality shows...I know that’s not the only genre you watch and you listen to a lot of podcasts. So I’m gonna say this show called, ‘alone.’”

Olivia blinked.

Rochelle waved her hands as she signaled for one of her friends to find the show on the laptop they were on, “have you watched this show, Spencer? And please elaborate on why you chose this show for Olivia?”

“No I haven’t. I only saw the trailer for it randomly when I was on YouTube watching lebron’s greatest moments clips.” Spencer replied earning a snort from Olivia and a eye-roll from Rochelle, “I picked that show because Liv feels that way, always. Like she’s never been seen before, truly seen. And this show tests these guys to survive on their own in the wilderness, putting not only their bodies but their minds through a lot. It’s mainly about survival that much I gained from the trailer. Liv’s always been a loner for as long as I’ve known her and feels that’s how she knows how to survive by doing it all on her own when she doesn’t have to. I see that and I understood that from my first day at Beverly.”

...

#all american #spelivia #Spencer James #Olivia Baker #all american cw #spencer x olivia

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cher-writes · 3 years

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Aphrodisiac | Vladek Klimov X Reader (18+)

Read part 1

Word count: 4.5k

CW: NSFW, Drugs, Blood, Self inflicted wound, Choking, Ritualistic sex

A/N: This one is a wild one, people. Read the warnings carefully and skip this one if you don't feel like it. Reader discretion is advised.

When you woke up, he was gone. The emptiness beside you sank into your skin and turned into a bottomless pit in your stomach. You slowly sat up and looked at the lonely clock ticking on your wall, 12pm. Orgasm induced sleep was always one of your greatest sedatives, but straight six hours after a night full of sleep? That was a bit too long. But after last evening and this morning, you couldn’t blame your body either. You wondered if you dreamt it all but the blood stains on your sheets told you otherwise. You lowered your nose and inhaled deeply, it smelt like him.

Ever since that day melancholy stained your whole existence. You had Vladek out of nowhere, in all that he is, but just as quickly he might as well have vanished from existence. The memory of him smiling softly and stroking your cheeks with his thumb before leaving you, came back to you afterwards. You were confused about whether or not you were imagining it to make yourself feel better. You wanted to be angry at him for leaving you without saying anything, but all you could feel was sad and empty. It was undeniable that you wanted him, more than you’ve ever wanted anyone or anything. Night after night you laid awake in your tub or the couch, thinking of him. There was a void in your heart, as if you’ve lost someone you’ve known for centuries. The pain was so intense that the ridiculousness of the situation didn’t quite register in your mind. He left you a mess in his wake. It felt at times, he took half of your heart with him. Everywhere you went, your eyes looked for him and before long, they found him.

You were sitting at the local restaurant that day, having breakfast as you didn’t feel like cooking. Well, more like fiddling with the food as your appetite was more or less dead ever since then. You were looking out of the window distractedly but your reverie broke when the waiter came by to offer you more coffee. After declining him,you were getting ready to jump right back into your woolgathering but something caught your eyes. It had become a second nature for you at that point to look for him, and at first you didn’t believe your eyes, after all you had been more or less delirious ever since he left you. But sitting a few tables in front of you, it was unmistakably that coat which you helped him out of that fateful evening. Those curls, you’d recognise them anywhere, you could almost feel those at your fingertips. Without a doubt it was him, you were taken aback by how quickly you recognised his back since all of this happened in the matter of a few milliseconds. He was talking to a town cop. You felt blood rush to the back of your neck as he soon got up, all the fervid memories from that morning flooding your mind. He turned around to leave and as he was walking by, he caught you in his gaze. He halted and smiled at you softly. By that point your brain had stopped working but for some reason your body decided to stand up abruptly, so quick that you almost knocked over the plate of food on the table. You walked up to him and stood inches away from his chest, your face completely blank. “Hey” he said with that heavy accent and ever so calm voice. “Hey um why did you leave without telling me?” you practically blurted out, voice shaking and breathless. He raised his brows slightly and said “Can we talk outside? In private?”. Your brain was a puddle at this point but you nodded quickly, somehow. Vladek flashed you another gentle smile and gestured to follow him.

You had been walking in silence for a while when he took a sharp turn into a dark desolate alley.

Being obsessed over a man you've known for less than 24 hours in total, was one thing but following him into dark alleys was a whole 'nother ball game! Even in your passionate malady you understood that fact but you just couldn’t stop yourself. His magnetic field pulled you in and like a lemming, followed his trail. When he stopped, you almost bumped into him but saved yourself from the embarrassment at the last moment. “Sorry i left that day without telling you” Vladek spoke up as he looked into your eyes, “I needed to be somewhere, it was urgent and i didn’t wanna wake you up. You look so pretty when you’re asleep”. It infuriated you how vague he always was. What did he mean exactly by ‘needed to be somewhere’? But you didn’t have it in you to ask him anything further. It was just like if God appeared in front of you out of nowhere in all his splendor, you wouldn’t be able to ask why he made things the way that he did. Besides him calling you pretty, basically killed every ounce of objection you had against him. “Oh. I see. I’m sorry i, um, i shouldn’t have lashed out like that” you meekly said in return. “It’s okay, (Y/N). It’s not your fault” he said and indeed it wasn’t your fault. He had this strange effect on you that made you do things you had no control over. He was staring at your eyes, breaking the eye contact once to look down at your lips and back to staring again. It was chilling cold outside and the tension between the two of you was agonizing. You could feel his warm breath on your face. You were inching closer, wanting to seize the opportunity and bask your lips in the heat of his lips. But he spoke up and jolted you back to your senses again, “Will you, em, help me with something?”. And at that moment if he asked you to jump off a cliff, you would.

You were walking in circles around the mattress which laid in the middle of your living room. You did as you were told. You were taking deep breaths, trying to control your breathing but you could practically hear your heart, beat out of your chest. You didn’t quite remember what exactly he explained, you couldn’t pay attention. All you heard was “ritual” and “sex”.

But like a diligent student you mentally noted down the few instructions that he gave- put a mattress on an empty floor, do not ingest any substance and wait. He said he’d arrive as soon as the sun went down on the new moon evening. It was quite cold inside due to your damn heater malfunctioning but you were on the brink of sweating as you stared at your front door in anticipation and before long, you could hear knocks.

When you opened the door, cold wind washed over your body but you didn’t feel a thing. Vladek was standing there in his mask and glasses and for a split second all the murder and the rumors flashed through your mind. Yet you weren’t afraid, cause you believed, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was there to save you and the town. You stepped to the side to let him in. As soon as he was inside you closed the door and awkwardly stood leaning against the door frame.

He promptly took off this mask and his coat. One look at that face and your heart was racing at a thousand miles per hour again. “Hey (Y/N)” he said, his face unreadable. You greeted him in return.

-“Do you mind if we start right now?”

- “No, no. Not at all”

He nodded and then crouched over the bag that he brought with him. There was a silent rush in his movements. After a little bit of rifling through, he pulled out a small bottle.

He walked up to you with the bottle in his hand, you could feel the air getting heavier. The bottle was clear and you could make out some sort of an oil inside. “I need you to anoint yourself with this before you cleanse yourself”, his voice was quite raspy. His fingers brushed against yours as you took the bottle from his hands and your skin burned at thiat slight contact. “What type of water?” you almost whispered. He raised his brows slightly at your question, the corner of his mouth curled up a bit as he said “huh?”. “Do i use cold water or warm water? Do I take a bath or a shower? Also do i-” you were rambling on when he chuckled and said “okay okay (Y/N), calm down. Just wash your body in any water, however you want. If anything specific is to be done i’ll tell you, yeah?”. You nodded meekly. You were beyond nervous and you felt detached from your body. But when you looked at him, all you wanted to do was to touch his face and then maybe throw him against the wall. But you couldn’t do that, not yet. So you collected all your thoughts and yourself then made your way to the bathroom.

When you were done taking a shower, your body felt more relaxed. All the tension built in your muscles for the past couple hours, no- past couple of days, washed away with the warm water. Although was that because of the warm water or the fact that he was waiting for you in the living room, was debatable. Your body smelt of strange wild flowers from the oil. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you were on your way.

You were deliberately walking slow. With every step that you took, your heartbeat started going up again. The reality of the situation was just setting in, you were about to participate in some sort of a sex ritual with vladek. The thought in itself sent shivers down your core. You were contemplating turning around and running out the back door when your feet finally arrived at the entrance of your living room. Your breath hitched and you stopped in your tracks when you saw him standing there in white pajama pants. The room was dark, there were candles circling the mattress. A skull decorated with blood red fathears sat facing the mattress. A knife rested by the side of the mattress. The warm yellow glow of the candles reflected off his smooth body as he turned around, a chalice in his hands. He looked ethereal and adrenaline rushed your body. Whether out of fear or lust, you didn’t know.

Vladek walked up to you, took a sip from the chalice and then handed it to you, “here, drink this”. And you did without much hesitation. It tasted quite bitter and you wondered how easily he could poison you. And as if he could read your mind he said, “Don’t worry, i’m not poisoning you. It’s an aphrodisiac mixed with mild relaxants”. His presence in itself was anesthetic for you and his voice more of an aphrodisiac than any substance will ever be. He took the chalice from your hands and put it on the floor. As you watched him you thought to yourself how cruel he was for using you like this even if it was for saving the town. At this point you didn't worry about the town or your own life, he could stab you with that knife for all you cared. He was cruel for using your infatuation and you'd be damned for eternity if you said you didn't relish every moment of it. “Is there anything you want to ask me (Y/N)?” he said in a mellow voice.

-“Why do this ritual?”

-“To save fortitude”

-“But how does this help?”

-“You see, only a woman is the most wise and powerful, feared by all. Loved by all the shamans.The knowledge of good and evil is tied at its root to sexuality and it is only through the height of orgasm that Gnosis can be achieved. And when the woman orgasms the veil between the worlds collapses and communicating with them is possible. I need to talk to them and ask for strength for what i need to do next”

You wanted to ask him what it all meant. What was gnosis, who are “they” and how the fuck could you possibly collapse the veil but again, you didn’t have it in you to ask him more than two things at a time. “Are you sure you want to do this? (Y?N), I want you to know that this is only for spiritual purposes and you can say no now or at any time during the ritual if you want to. I need you to be fully willing”, the softness in Vladek’s voice was hurting you this point. You nodded a yes quickly. You two then stood in silence staring at each other for what seemed like a lifetime to you until he extended his right hand to you. You figured he was asking you to disrobe. You unraveled the towel and handed it to him which he swiftly discarded. You were completely naked under his stare yet you didn’t feel a hint of embarrassment, there was something so sacramental in the ambience or maybe it was just the drugs. “Okay step in the circle carefully” he said and you complied. “Now get down on your knees over the mattress”, you obeyed like your life depended on it and sat facing him. He picked up sage from his bag and lit it. Soon the room was filled with smoke, you could barely see anything. He was going around you in circles, occasionally bringing the sage so close that you could feel its heat on your skin, all while chanting something. His movements were ceremonial. Then he stopped, laid the still burning sage on the chalice and stepped in the circle, murmuring through out. You were unnaturally calm for your nature, your heart was beating in a soothing rhythm. When you looked up, he was standing, towering over you. In the heavy fragrant smoke and dull candle lights his frame looked celestial, you couldn’t quite make out his eyes. He then slowly lowered himself until he was on his knees too, eye to eye with you. The close proximity to him kicked something in you and adrenaline flooded you once again. He reached to your side and grabbed the knife. Vladek was looking directly into your eyes, his stare supernatural, as he slashed a bit over his collarbone. Blood oozed out and then started dripping down his chest, soaking his white pants. Your jaw dropped at this sight, yet he didn’t move a muscle. He closed his eyes and uttered something then proceeded to draw symbols in some ancient language on his chest with the blood. When he was done he opened his eyes and said “trace these glyphs with your tongue”, his voice was commanding yet tender. It was getting hard for you to keep your thoughts together so you did as you were told.

You started at the top, he hissed slightly when you licked the wound. The coppery taste of the blood and his warm skin were creating a sensation in your tongue you had never felt before. His silky smooth chest rose up and down slowly while you were tracing all the strange symbols. When you were done you sat back waiting for the next instruction. Instead he cupped your face and wiped the blood from your lips with his thumbs. At that exact moment you understood what was wrong with you since the day you met him; He put a spell on you by his beauty then cursed you by his touch. Your head was rattling like crazy. He pushed you back gently until you were lying half down, supported by your elbows. Vladek climbed on top of you like a serpent. You were feeling dizzy, your eyes felt too heavy to blink. What snapped you out of it was his voice against your ears, your own flavor of aphrodisiac. He was chanting something, you didn't understand what he was saying whether it was because of the language or the drugs you couldn't possibly comprehend at that point. He started going down; ghosting his lips over your neck, nape, collarbones, chest, stomach, chanting some crude ancient hymn. You would kill at that point to have his lips on your skin but he carefully kept just enough of a distance that you could feel his sultry breath burning holes on your skin but not the touch of his delicate lips

You were wanting and waiting for even the slightest bit of contact when whatever “they” he talked about, answered your prayers. Vladek slipped his left hand under you and started laying you down further as he caressed your stomach with his right hand, kindly pushing until you were lying completely flat against his hand on your lower back. Your breath jerked when you felt his warm hands spreading your thighs. Even the drugs this time couldn’t stop the white hot rush that rose from embarrassment and submerged your whole existence. You were trying to take deep breaths and calm yourself down, reminding yourself that what was happening was purely spiritual yet the intrinsic responses of your body held other beliefs. As you were trying to hobble your heart, you felt his fervid lips on your cunt and electricity shot through your spine straight into your brain. For a moment you felt like your brain would melt into a liquid.

Vladek’s warm tongue glided up and down, making your body quiver at every small movement. You weren’t sure if your heart even existed at this point, either it stopped beating or was beating so fast it didn’t register in your brain. You felt your core tightening, almost on the brink of a collapse. Your breathing was becoming shallow and irregular, you were waiting for the bliss when he suddenly stopped. You’d whine and ask him why if your body didn’t feel like it was under a thousand miles of water. He slowly sat up and said “Get up”. Not a bone in your body felt like they were solid enough to support you. He probably sensed something and helped you get up. You were swaying mildly from the lightheadedness, rubbing your thighs together coyly to relief yourself from the edge and the aching that consumed you. He grabbed your arms firmly and gave you a quick shake to steady you, and it worked, as much as it was possible for a high, aroused woman on the edge of an orgasm, to sit still. Vladek reached for that knife again, and you wondered if he’d slash your throat this time as a sacrifice or something, not that you would be able to run right then even if you wanted to and you didn’t either. You’d happily die by the hands of a man like him. As your questionable morbid thoughts ran, he held the knife right in front of your face. “Cut your right index finger on this”, his honey like accent made that sound much more appealing than it actually was. You’d raise your brows if you could feel them. You were sure it wasn’t you who lifted that finger and slid it across the knife, your brain wasn’t controlling your body anymore. Blood started dipping down your hand, yet you didn’t feel any pain, again probably the drugs. He grabbed your hand with his right hand, you tried but couldn’t anticipate where it was going until he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. He put your finger on his tongue and drew some symbols again. His warm tongue was fluttering ever so slightly under your touch and you wanted to grab his face and slam him against the floor, crashing your mouth into his, but, not yet.

After drawing the symbols, Vladek licked your wound to stop the bleeding and when he let your finger go you very quickly started missing the warmth of his mouth. His lips were glimmering from your fluids in the flickering yellow lights and you decided to keep this memory in the depth of your, probably not beating anymore, heart. You were pretty sure you were thinking in slow motion because when you were done thinking that, you were lying on your back again somehow. And just as soon, his soft tongue was back on your cunt again, only this time it was circling your clit in languid motions. It was almost as if he picked up where he left cause your body was just as quickly on the ledge again. It was getting difficult to breathe with every passing moment. You tried really hard but you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, it took you a bit of an effort but you slid your fingers in his lush curls, holding onto them for dear life. His mouth worked skillfully on you, licking, sucking, driving you to the point of madness. You were almost there and as if afraid that he’ll stop again, you thrust your hips upwards which resulted in his nose pressing at just the right angle, resulting in your orgasm to push you down a cliff into a valley of pure bliss. You moaned out and shuddered vehemently as you rode through it. It was unlike any other orgasm you ever had. The room felt like it was crumbling down, the atmosphere falling apart. You couldn’t even feel his presence anymore. The candles burnt brightly and It was just you, violent euphoria within you and euphoric violence outside of you. Your back arched up, your head on the brink of snapping from your neck. You opened your eyes and it met with the hollow caters of the skull. A bright light flashed before you and you passed out.

When you came back, you were lying perfectly still. Your head was clear as a summer sky, your body felt like you had just come out of an ice cold bath. Which was weird considering the experience you just had was only comparable to a volcanic rapture. You felt vitalized, as if you’ve been sleeping for a few decades. You sat up quickly to find Vladek sitting crossed legged facing you, eyes closed and praying. You tried to cover yourself with your hands, feeling awfully naked. The candles were burnt almost to the ground, the air now mostly clear of smoke. He opened his eyes slowly and smiled at you softly. “How are you feeling?” he said in his gentle voice. “Good, feeling good, great um are we done?” you said abruptly. “Yes, yes we are” he replied and then got up. He quickly mumbled something and went out of the circle. He picked up the towel and handed it over to you which you promptly wrapped around yourself. You got out of the circle, standing awkwardly besides him. “Did it, um, work?” you said, trying to cut the uncomfortable silence.

-“Yes it did, thank you”

-“No problem”

-“I’ll clean all of this, don't worry, you can go to sleep if you want to. It’s a bit late”

-“I’m not tired”

-“I see”

-“I’m sorry by the way, for um, grabbing your hair back then impromptu”

-“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it”

-“Are you gonna leave afterwards?”

-“I do have things i need to tend to”

-“Oh. Okay”

You two nodded at each other like workplace colleagues who barely know each other. Which was unnerving for you, considering what just went down. The idea of him leaving made your heart ache, which was surprisingly still beating. If it was up to you, you’d chain him to your bed and never let him go but you were too young to be known as the town’s freak criminal. You wanted to say something, ask him to stay but could barely think about the concept of words. You awkwardly grabbed his wrist, surprisingly slow in your action. He looked down at his wrist then back at you again with amused but questioning eyes.

You were trying to gather all your thoughts, trying to say something, anything when Vladek spoke up, “Do you want me to stay?”. “Yes”, you answered a bit too avidly. Suddenly there was razor sharp tension in the air you both shared. You blinked and the next moment you were on your toes, cupping his face and forcing your tongue down his mouth. His hands lingered on the small of you back as he lowered himself to kiss you back. You were trying to devour him as you bit his lips, drawing a groan from him. Soon you were up against the wall as he was leaving marks all over your body. The ceremonial energy was nowhere to be seen in his being anymore and at that point he was indistinguishable from a wild animal. Your eyes met with his, both panting, bare chest to chest, there was instinctual longing in the way he looked at you. You reached down to feel his hard cock over his pants, stroking roughly making him grunt in response. “I want you, inside of me, like right now” you managed to blurt out and with that you were pinned on the couch. His tongue colliding with yours, your hands tugging at his silky curls. You were lost in the kiss when you felt him inside of you, stretching you out. You gasped in his mouth and he chuckled softly. But soon he was in rhythm, rough yet kind in his thrusts. Your nails were digging deep in his back. You could feel your orgasm building up again so you flipped him and got on top. Riding him to your heart’s content as he watched you in awe, your right hand wrapping his neck and the left one clutching his shoulder for support. You could feel his muffled groan under your palm. When you came you were looking directly into his eyes, moaning his name, your hands clenching a bit too intensely that you intended. As your high slowly calmed down you loosened your grip. Still thrusting sloppily trying to make it last as long as you could, when you felt him come inside of you. His chest rose as he kissed you through it. Soon after you were lying by his side. You wanted to rest your head on his chest, tell him that you liked him. But it was ridiculous to say that to someone you’ve known for such a little time. It was him who reached out and intertwined his fingers with yours, which took you by surprise. He was smiling softly at you. Vladek was shining like a god in the afterglow, he smelt divine and it pained you to fathom him not being with you for eternity. “Will you wake me up before you leave tomorrow morning?”, you almost choked while saying that.

“I wouldn’t dare to do otherwise.”

But you didn’t really want to wake up the next day. This was as close to heaven as you’d get and you wanted it to last forever. As you were falling asleep you decided to chain him to your bed if you woke up, pandemonium could swallow the town for all you cared.

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cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

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Was It A Dream? (Sungchan Yuta x reader ft doyoung, jaehyun)

A/N : hello again!! This is a light, and fun fanfiction. It’s intended to make you just imagine how fun and chaotic it is to live with two brothers like Jaehyun and Doyoung. You have your eyes on Sungchan and Yuta, until one day they notice you. Join the fun of bickering and expect some plot twist okay!

WARNING : none, it is not rated and Yuta is flirty here. Doyoung and Jaehyun are your brother, but they’re also finding their way to win their s/o’s heart.

HERE WE GOOOO!!!

"Drooling over those two soccer players again?" Your second brother snickers when he finds you sitting on the podium watching the school's soccer team practice. You don't take your eyes off the two young men who look super charming to you especially when they are playing soccer.

Without looking to your older brother you reply "So what? Like you're not eyeing that cheerleader boy too?" That hits him right on the spot, Jaehyun has no words to attack you back. Just when you thought you can gaze on the two princes of your life; your oldest brother surprises the two of you.

"Yak! Doyoung stop doing that! We can have heart attacks!" Jaehyun wipes his shoulder as if cleaning himself from his own brother's touch. You don't get surprised that much and still watch at the two man, the tall Korean guy from your math class Sungchan and the Japanese guy who shares writing class with you, Nakamoto Yuta. They were both older than you but you've fallen for their charms. Both are the aces of the team and you always stay after school on their training days to just watch them from afar.

"Let's go home! I can't believe my sister and brother are this creepy." Doyoung shudders when he sees how focused Jaehyun is in watching that cheer squad leader, Taeyong and his sister (y/n) is sending laser beams to Yuta and Sungchan. 2 men at the same time! Doyoung just shakes his head and notes his watch, it's time to go home. It's almost five and as a student on his last year, Doyoung has extra classes to attend and he was tired. He wants to just go home and sleep, unlike Jae and you who still have the energy to sit there and look like a creeper.

"Okay we're going home now." He stresses his words and pinches yours and jaehyun's shoulders before walking away to the parking lot. "Aish why Doie can't let us have our time?! He's just jealous he doesn't have anyone to look at." You complained Jaehyun reluctantly picks his bag and stands up "Come, I am not walking home." He reaches out his hand for you and you take it. He pulls you to stand and you reluctantly leave the stadium.

"Oh she's going home already?" Yuta asks to his friend when there's a slight break and he sees you being dragged by Jaehyun. The tall man looks to the area Yuta's watching and nods "Guess Jaehyun brought her home by force."

Yuta smiles "She's never taking her eyes off you." Says Yuta and playfully punches sungchan to tease him. Sungchan laughs "I thought she has her eyes on you! I swear she's always sending you that heart eyes when you're running on field."

Yuta smirks "Was she checking out on both of us at the same time?"

Sungchan shrugs his shoulder and finishes his last bottle "I don't know, shall we see who is she actually crazy for?"

Yuta ponders but curiosity takes over his mind "Actually I am curious of that! What do we do?" Sungchan whispers something to the Japanese guy's ear and his smile widens when he imagine how fun will this be. "That sounds interesting!"

---

"Hey (y/n)-" Sungchan taps your shoulder before you stand up from your chair to leave the class. You turn to look at the man tapping your shoulder

"Oh Sungchan-" you look a bit surprised. The tall guy smiles "I saw you yesterday on the podium, guess you like soccer huh?" Your mind wants to scream "no i'm just there to watch you and Yuta...." but you'll just creep him off so you nod your head "Um yeah I grew up with two brothers so I'm more into sports than drama." You lied. Your brothers don't watch soccer :")

"Cool I have a ticket for you so you can watch us. It's the VIP pass. You can come meet us when we're done." Sungchan hands you a ticket and you can't contain your happiness. Well the VIP ticket is expensive and hard to get, even if you have the money sometimes the tickets are sold out already so you're super happy when you get this.

"Woah thank you! I'll definitely come and watch you!" You keep the ticket and walk with Sungchan in the hallway. Your heart is not calm at all, you're going to burst any time soon if this guy did not stop talking to you. "What's your next class?" Sungchan asks you since he also has another class to attend. "Writing, I gotta go." You nervously squeeze your bag and Sungchan did the most unexpected thing. He nods and brings his hand to ruffle your hair "Okay then, guess I'll see you again on my training day." He winks and walks away leaving you speechless with his words and act.

Before your mind can work again someone else has already place a hand over your shoulder. "Hey writing starts in 5 minutes, if we don't rush there, we'll be late." Another deep voice greets your ears. You shake your head, trying to get rid of all ridiculous hallucinations you're having but when you feel your shoulder heavy and someone is breathing next to you.... your legs feel like giving up. "Yuta?" You stammer Great… Sungchan just left you after his heart fluttering actions and this flirty Japanese guy is here.

Well Yuta's known for his flirty side and his tsundere side looks like he is on his flirty side today. "Come (y/n) we need to rush." He squeezes your shoulder and drags you to walk with him to the class. You follow his large steps, your heart beating even faster when you feel his body sticking into yours. You made it on time to the class. The last chairs available are the one in the back and you're sitting next to Yuta for the first time. Yeah you never have the balls to sit beside him, you'll just get distracted and you don't need that right now. But here you are! Seating next to Nakamoto Yuta who's laid back on his chair, playing with his pen, and then focuses on scribbling something. You try to keep your eyes on the board but his hand movement you can see from the side of your eyes caught your attention more. In the end, like attracted to a magnetic field, you turn your head to find out what is making him super focused.

Yuta caught you staring into his paper, trying to figure out what he is scribbling and before you can look away, he holds your hand rips his notebook and places the paper on your hand. Then he pushes your hand to you, and you stare at the paper on your hands. There Yuta just drew a sketch of you holding a hand banner with his jersey number on it. On the bottom corner right, he added his signature and a small note "For my number 1 sweetheart fan

You want to gawk at him that no you're not his number one fan, or yes you are but your mouth can't say anything. "Wow this is nice. Thanks Yuta..." you look into the Japanese guy and wonder just how many more talents he had that you never know. You know Yuta's great in writing, especially since this class is about fictional writing, he aces this class. His plots and imaginations are wonderful and now his drawing skills can make him a successful comic writer if he did not want to be a soccer player! Really Japanese people are mostly great at arts eh?!

"You like that?" Yuta asks when he sees the glimmer in your eyes. You nod "I love it! Gosh Yuta you can be an illustrator and even make a comic out of your stories."

He chuckles "I know, but that's not what I want."

"So what do you want?" You curiously ask him and the man smirks "I want you to come with me this afternoon to a cafe I love."

Boom! Yuta just asked you out on a date. "Me? You're asking me?" You point yourself Yuta nods "Yes you, who else am I talking to?"

You stutter "I- I mean yes I'd love to." He closes his notebook and picks his pen "Okay then, see you at two on the union building."

He leaves after throwing a sweet smile to you and you're once again glued to your seat. You squeal secretly when there is no one and what did you dream of having two of your stars hitting on you. You meet Yuta that afternoon, he treats you on a coffee and both of you ramble on your favorite anime that he watched too. With his Japanese tone he can tease you with some of the male lead lines and you're really dying inside. "Yuta, thank you for the treat, it was great talking to you!" You bid farewell because he needs to attend his soccer club.

"No problem, you're going to watch me?" He asks while standing up and picking up his bag. "I want to, but I have essays to write." You frown.

Yuta ruffles your hair "Himnae! You can watch me in the real match this week. See you!" He waves when he sees your ride has arrived. Yes Jaehyun picks you up and you disappear behind the door.

“Pinch me! Hyung pinch me!!” you shake Jaehyun’s shoulder. He looks at you with an annoyed face and pinches you on your cheeks.

“Happy?” he mischievously grins and pulls your cheek harder. You wince at the pain and slap his hand away “Enough!”

“You ask for it!” he taunts, and you bring one hand to soothe the red cheeks, “I AM NOT DREAMING!”

Jaehyun just shakes his head at your antiques, he drives safely back home while you’re busy opening your bag to check the ticket Sungchan gave and Yuta’s drawing. When you find both of them in your possession, you kiss both papers and laugh happily. Jaehyun really looks at you like you’re being possessed, and he should slap you to reality, and he did that on the red light.

“WHAT?!” you yell when he slaps you hard enough.

“I thought you might be possessed.” He shudders

“I am not. Look, I got a VIP ticket for this week’s match and a nice portrait of me from Yuta!” you show your brother the papers and he pulls out an “Eeew you’re like a crazy in love teenagers.”

You taunt at him, “Admit it if you’re jealous. I don’t care what you say. I am not dreaming; today is not a dream and this week I’ll be seeing my men up close!”

Jaehyun laughs at you nevertheless, well he is happy as long as you’re happy and Doyoung? Guess he’ll just stay quiet until Doyoung watches you boast about the same thing to him too.

“For your information, you just got a ticket right?” Jaehyun suddenly asks you when both of you are taking the lift to the sixth floor.

You nod your head and Jaehyun just smirks, “I won Taeyong’s number already.”

If the lift door is not opened, you will already scream out loud “What?! When?”

But since the door is opened and other residence and your oldest brother comes in view you decided to stay quiet.

Doyoung notices the fishy look on Jaehyun’s face and your surprised face. He wonders what silliness he should deal with again today, but he won’t ask if no one is going to tell.

In the end, Doyoung figures out about your meeting with Sungchan and Yuta. He also hears Jaehyun boast around about his closeness to Taeyong now, and he’s tired watching the two of you bicker about being closer to have them in your hands.

“You two, actually (y/n) bet to me that Jae wouldn’t get Yong’s number but he did, so you owe me 20.” Doyoung suddenly smirks as he hands out his palm of hand and you roll your eyes as you stand up to get your wallet and pay him.

Doyoung then turns to Jaehyun, “And you, when did you win Taeyong’s number?”

Jaehyun thinks for a while, “Yesterday?”

Doyoung smirks, “I have gotten Jeno’s since last week. Pay up!”

You hang your mouth when you realize just how smart and tricky Doyoung is in making you lose and Jaehyun lose too.

Jaehyun felt cheated, but in the end he has to pay up too. Both you and Jaehyun look cross to Doyoung and together mutter,

“JUST WAIT AND SEE.”

end.

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silverducks · 3 years

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Game of Thrones - Jaime Lannister

A rambling character study of Jaime Lannister from Game of Thrones.

Part 1a – Jaime’s Character Arc

This post is going to look at my thoughts on exactly how I see Jaime’s character arc in Game of Thrones, based on just the show. But it’s also to set up my future posts where I explain why I find it so darn hard to understand why he had the ending they gave him. At least beside the obvious - because the writers wanted to.

Yeah I know; I’m late to the GoT train wreck of a final series. But I have a lot of thoughts and hence why I’m here typing away.

(And this is where I start to really go all English Lit exam analysis on you, so a warning for anyone who actually might be reading this post, LOL!)

My Intro to this series of posts btw, is here.

So, spoilers be below.

Ok, so to help explain why Jaime’s ending makes no sense, I firstly need to explain what exactly his character arc is in the show, or at least how I perceive it. As mentioned in a previous post on honour vs loyalty, for Jaime I see his character arc being about two, interconnected things – redemption and identity.

In series 1 and 2, he’s not a nice character – he’s a self-righteous, proud, full of himself, snob. He’s arrogant and cocky and says pretty cruel, snide things to characters we do like. And as we see him through the PoV of characters like *Mr Honourable Eddard Stark, Jaime is pretty despicable to say the least. And that is before we even get started on the whole pushing a boy out of a window because he caught Jaime having sex with his own twin sister. Oh and just as an FYI, Jaime is also called the Kingslayer because he killed the King he was sworn to protect. So yeah, most people watching the show don’t like him at the start, and neither do most of the other show characters we do like.

And from a story telling perspective, Jaime’s character can either get worse, better or stay the same as the show goes on. And in this story, he gets better, with a few slip ups along the way, and it’s fascinating and glorious!!

Like, I can think of nothing that even comes close to the amazing way Jaime Lannister’s character develops in Game of Thrones and how we as a viewer change in our perception of him.

But that only makes his ending so much more frustrating and disappointing…

Before I start rambling away though, just as a point to note; I’m using terms like good and better person and right and wrong quite loosely here. Obviously the world, even in a fictional world, isn’t all that simple. As that would be a whole other massive thematic and philosophical thesis, and it’s not really that relevant, just take the “general” meaning of the ideas, but with the understanding I know it’s a bit more complicated. Where I think it does become more relevant, I’ll expand on the ideas in that particular context. If I sound a bit flippant at times, it’s because of the whole black vs white vs grey, and how there are “rules” in storytelling that wouldn’t necessary apply to our own, real life reality. There are things that we need to take into account when we analyse characters in stories vs actual, real people. And on a side note, this is one of my favourite things about Game of Thrones, the complexity and moral ambiguity of both its characters and its story themes. But yeah, that’s a whole thesis in its own right.)

Redemption Arc

So, redemption. In order for us to start to like this character, and see him as a good guy, he has to go through a redemption arc. Like pretty much rule number 1 of storytelling. That means we have to watch him and believe in him becoming a better person. Conversations like the whole oath vs oath issue, or his chat with his father about his nicknames in series 1 makes us take notice of a character, maybe even be more invested in a character and their shades of grey, but it’s not really redemption. And considering how far in debt he is in the good vs bad guy department, he has a lot of work to do.

And my goodness, he does it. Like, I mean, this guys’ redemption arc is astonishing! He goes through so much, rethinks and challenges everything he once thought/knew about himself and his world, faces all his past wrongs and bad character traits and becomes not even a better person, but a hero! He goes from a bad villain who kills kings and pushes kids from windows, to becoming one of the main heroes we’re rooting for by the end of the story.

(A quick disclaimer here, like I’m not saying Jaime is ever, or ever will be perfect, heck, he’s human and this is Game of Thrones and Jaime’s more messed up than most. But when you think back from where he started and where he’s been, it sure is impressive – if we ignore his actual ending that is, LOL!)

And his glorious redemption arc all pretty much starts around the time he starts his fun road trip with Brienne in series 3.

So, just to give a few of his finer redemption points (and just remember his series 1 and 2 actions and our opinion of him in contrast):

He stops Brienne from being raped and gets his hand cut off for the trouble (Ouch! But suffering, especially from doing something good, gives lots of redemption points.)

He risks his life to save Brienne from being mauled to death by a bear. Like, he’s recently lost his sword fighting hand and has no weapon, but he jumps in the bear pit anyway and puts himself between the bear and Brienne. He then helps Brienne out of the bear pit first and then only just makes it out alive himself. Oh and if that wasn’t enough, he basically tells the bad guys that he’s leaving with Brienne, or they will have to kill him. Like he says this to the guy who not so long ago chopped his hand off. (Just think on that one a minute ok.)

He keeps to his promise/oath to Catelyn Stark and continues to help her daughters by giving Brienne a priceless sword and some stunning armour so she can find and help them. (This also helps Brienne, because he knows she’s not safe in Kings Landing, and gives her a purpose, because he knows that’s what she needs.)

Firstly offers to sacrifice his own life needs and goals and those vows he’s now starting to hold more dear to save his brother. When said brother then screws up that opportunity, Jaime then also helps said brother escape from being killed, going against his sister and father, who want his brother dead. (Yeah, the Lannisters are an interesting family… And you wonder why Jaime is a little messed up?)

Takes RiverRun without any bloodshed. (Like pulls off the perfect bluff in GoT siege history so that he can make sure his army succeeds, but no one is killed. (I don’t count the Blackfish, who chose to fight to the death rather than escape/get taken prisoner.)

Joins the fight for the battle against the dead, even if it also means renouncing his entire house and lineage and putting himself at the mercy and judgement of pretty much all his enemies and all he has wronged. (One of which has a habit of roasting her enemies alive with Dragon fire)

Oh and also risks his life in above mentioned battle against the dead.

A pretty impressive list imho, lots of redemption points there and that’s not even including everything else he does. Following the general storytelling themes of forgiveness and redemption, Jaime basically ticks all the boxes by all the good deeds he’s now done. And that’s one of the major reasons why we as viewers now love him so much as a character.

But that’s not all, of course. As we discover also in series 3 (a pretty important series for our Jaime), it’s not even just about him doing good things, but we realise as an audience we’ve (intentionally by the show) completely misunderstood him! Yes, he did kill the King he was sworn to protect, but only because said King was mad and was about to blow up the entire capital city where hundreds of thousands of innocent people live. And not only did he do this incredible honourable thing, but because it did go against his vow as a Kings Guard, he’s ever since been derided as the Kingslayer, Oathbreaker, Man without honour. A horrible set of nicknames that he’s borne, because he doesn’t think people would care or understand anyway. (Of course, I want to add in here that it’s partly the negative trait of pride too, thinking himself as the Lannister Lion, above having to explain himself to the sheep.)

Anyway, all this has worn him down a lot over the years and it’s messed him up good and proper. It kinda makes your own initial dislike of Jaime through *Mr Honourable Eddard Stark’s eyes seem a little unfair. Especially when the guy was barely more than a kid at the time (16 or 17 I think). And his defence mechanism to deal with this is one of the reason’s he is so cocky and arrogant – he uses his dry, often cruel humour, to mask that he does actually still care. In fact, it’s worked so well, I think at the start of the show, Jaime believes it himself; that he is a horrible, hateful person. But he did have that honour inside of him once; he did care and try to do what was right. And when you think back to his scenes in series 1 and 2, they take on new meaning now. He’s no longer such an evil arrogant, cocky knight we all pretty much immediately hated.

And as this revelation happens around the same time as he starts doing all those good deeds, it all helps work together to make us re-evaluate Jaime and grow to love him and become invested in his redemption arc even more.

(*I feel the need to add a disclaimer here, I do like Ned Stark a lot as a character. But it is interesting that as the show goes on, he almost does the opposite to Jaime – we see he actually isn’t always as good as we thought, that perhaps honour tripped into bitterness and prejudice a few times. That perhaps Ned, as much as we like him, is less full white and more speckled in shades of grey after all...(which makes him a more interesting and nuanced character imho, so rather than undermine him, it makes him more human.))

And when I rethink Jaime’s scene with Robb Stark when he’s captured, where he gives Robb the choice of ending the war if Robb can beat him in single combat, well, it adds even more depth to his character. Of course, Jaime knew he would likely win, as did Robb, so Robb refused. And as a viewer who was all Stark=Good, Lannister=Evil (except Tyrion) at the time, I was glad Robb wasn’t stupid or arrogant enough, like the Kingslayer Mr Jaime Lannister, to fall for that.

But then I remember the parallel in series 6, when Jon Snow (Stark=Good) gives exactly the same choice to Ramsay Bolton (Bolton=Spawn of Satan). Ramsay can either fight Jon in single combat, or they can all send their troops to die in their war. And as a viewer now, NOW! I think Ramsay is weak and awful for not agreeing (because he knows he can’t win too) and so sending all these soldiers to an early grave. Which is like 100% opposite for pretty much the same scenario of its series 2 counterpart. Of course, we HATE Ramsay and he has no, I mean literary NO! redeeming qualities, unlike Jaime, who we never, ever hated in the same way. But it does make you think about the whole idea of perception as well as actual deeds here. And that actually Jaime, you could argue, was doing the honourable thing by asking Robb for single combat, to spare the lives of both of their armies… I mean, obviously he wants to win the war, but maybe, he also wanted to spare as many lives as he could, too – like Jon in the series 6 equivalent. Maybe not so arrogant a request from our Jaime after all…

And another point to add in here, which further adds up to Jaime’s redemption arc, is Lady Brienne of Tarth. Yes, I’ve saved her to last for a reason, as she is, imho, THE catalyst for this amazing change we see in Jaime. If you’ll notice, a lot of Jaime’s good deeds involve Brienne and start happening around the time the two characters meet. And that very fact further proves that Jaime was and can be a better person.

He does not like her at first and she’s not quite your typical maiden. Not only is she a “beast” (to quote Jaime), but she’s a fighter, full of honour, self-sacrifice and steadfast in her purpose, and more than a match for him. Oh and she’s also his captor, dragging him to Kings Landing with a rope around his hands so they can trade him for the Stark girls.

So yeah, not the most cordial of first meetings. He pokes fun at her, trying to get her to snap, to prove she’s not as good as she seems. But she doesn’t, because she is that person, she is true to herself and not pretending. Unlike so many people Jaime knows, she is genuine.

And he’s impressed by her skill and courage as a fighter as well. She is able to best him in the sword fight (granted when his hands are tied and he’s been sat in a cage for over a year, but he is like renowned for being one of the best sword fighters in the entire realm). Also when she fought the men who had murdered the women they found hung along the road – both as justice and to give the murdered woman a proper burial. She isn’t all talk, she can, and does fight. I bet Jaime wasn’t expecting that! And as sword fights are his thing, what he pretty much defines himself by and is most proud of, that’s a pretty big for tick from Jaime for Brienne right there.

Basically, she is a) an honourable person b) sticks to her oaths c) also able to fight (and therefore protect people) and d) refuses to let him get the better of her. The perfect, chivalrous embodiment of a brave, honourable Knight. A true Knight in all but name, whilst Jaime is now a Knight in nothing but name.

Now, I’ll discuss this more in the identity arc bit, but basically all this challenges Jaime, makes him rethink his own bitter images of himself and his world. She reminds him of his younger self, when he wanted to be that honourable Knight. And seeing this reflection of his younger, naïve and less world weary version of himself in Brienne, it helps to trigger this change in Jaime. It makes him remember who he once was, what he once stood for and believed in; that ideal that Jaime once believed is actually possible - of the brave, worthy Knight people sing songs about. And it started to make him want to be that person again. And this in turn, makes him want to start to do the right thing, to start to put honour first, which paves the way for his redemption arc very nicely.

I won’t talk too much more about Brienne here, because I think her relationship with and influence on Jaime deserves its own post. But I do think it is the specific personality of Brienne, together with the very fact that she is an ugly, “beast” of a woman, that triggers Jaime’s arc in just the right way and enables it to be so profound.

One last note on his redemption – I’ve said before it was partly his Lannister Lion pride that caused some of his suffering in relation to his nicknames. And indeed part of his arrogance is because he does think he’s better than everyone else (although not to the extent we first thought). He is the Lannister’s golden son after all and the Lannisters are basically the most powerful and wealthiest House in Westeros. It is a bad trait, yeah. But even this, even this! gets sorted out in series 8. From my list of redemption points, see the second to last point above – he faces judgement. Like a guy who had too much pride to admit he actually killed a King to help save hundreds of thousands of lives, actually, of his own volition, faces his enemies to be judged and to atone for what he has done wrong. Yeah, he also offers excuses at said trail, but if I’m honest, they do sound quite genuine to me. Is it any worse than what your typical soldier would do in a time of war? Fight in a battle and kill people? Try to capture the person (Ned) who’s wife captured your brother to avert a war? And we already know now he was justified in his killing of the mad King.

So, all in all, with this new insight into Jaime’s character, especially also seeing him through the increasingly positive eyes of Brienne (more on that later), who we know really is good and honourable, we have both a better understanding of his past actions, see his ongoing internal struggles and conflicts as he strives to do what is right and along with all his good deeds as the show goes on, we see him slowly (with lots of unfortunate set backs as well) become a better person. So come series 8, his redemption arc up to THAT scene, is glorious and basically complete.

And then there’s his identity arc. The other side of his character development, which is just as important for me and very much interconnected with his redemption.

(Like, seriously, there’s so much going on with this character that I could write essays, no a whole thesis I bet! I seriously can’t wait until I get to read him and Brienne’s chapters in the books and discover even more sides and shades to this character.)

But I’ve rambled on for far longer than I intended on his redemption arc, so I’ll save his identity arc for another day. (And hopefully it won’t be as long). Then we can get into the fun stuff like that hand he lost, that famous bath scene and his, how to put this, interesting relationship with his sister…

#If you were brave enough to get this far #Thanks for reading #And hope this made sense #Just my rambling thoughts #Yeah, I have a lot

#Game of Thrones #Jaime Lannister #Brienne x Jaime

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 3 years

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I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Six

Ao3, Masterpost, C.1 C.2 C.3 C.4 C.5

Relationships: eventual queer-platonic intruality. platonic dukeceit, creativitwins, and dlampr.

Yet again there are no italics. its new years eve sue me. oh also happy 2021 nobody question my priorities thanks <3

Warnings: so much softness, implications of self-isolation, swearing, Lots of Feelings, sympathetic everybody, descriptions of the sides having non-human features.

Word Count: 3,962

Something Remus came to realize was that he, a bit paradoxically, was not used to people being in his space.

It was weird. Not weird in the way that people usually felt when he was the one interrupting- he wasn’t scared by it, or disgusted, or even really annoyed. It was just… surprising, to have somebody else hanging around him, unprompted by anything.

Remus wasn’t known for having boundaries- or respecting them, for that matter- but he’d at least been attempting to restrain himself just a bit after being accepted by the others. Out of courtesy, if nothing else.

And apparently he didn’t need to. Not after what happened with Patton, anyway. Now that Patton had deemed the two of them ‘close’- something he was absolutely happy to agree with, for the record- Remus’ world had flipped sort of around. Back to no boundaries, only he wasn’t the one crossing those lines, and nobody was running screaming. Least of all Patton!

Remus ran the thoughts over in his head, feeling like that day was shaping up to be a great example of the change:

He and Patton were sitting side-by-side in the living room, content, with the rest of the sides spread around in different seats and configurations just the same. The unlikely pair were at the fringe of the circle, close enough to be part of things but far enough to zone in and out at will (as both were prone to do). It was nice, amiable.

But minutes before- forty of them at most- Remus had been up in his own room, happily dissecting some gooish creations and only vaguely aware that there was a meeting that day. His attendance to group meetings varied from week to week- sometimes he was bored and could use an argument, and other times he was having fun on his own and knew that it wouldn’t be all that important if he ditched. He joined more often than he used to, sometimes he was even asked for, but he was optional still. A favored option, suggestions taken now, sure- but still not mandatory.

He was going to stay upstairs for that one, but Patton had come to get him. Had dragged him down in that sweet, puppy-dog way of convincing that worked so well and, knowing him, was totally unintentional. And even if Remus didn’t care about arguing his way through content production right then, Patton had promised that it was important for him to be there.

That was the word he’d used for Remus. Important.

How the hell could Remus say no to that?

At least the meeting was going by without a hitch, for once. He assumed it was- Remus was honestly paying very little attention- but the lack of anger or tension was practically palpable. These things were usually so spiteful that even Remus, renowned lover of chaos, could almost taste his headache when everybody started shouting and hissing and fighting. It just got sad.

But not that time, apparently.

As Logan went on his third ramble of the evening, smiling widely at a surprising lack of interruption, Remus turned to Patton. He whispered:

“Okay, when are they gonna snap? Did they all finally get lobotomized?”

Patton frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean where’s all the screaming and crying? Specs and Prince Priss haven’t had a single one of their horny yelling matches, what gives?”

Patton smiled in a way that said he was trying very hard not to laugh, rolling his eyes.

“These meetings have calmed down a bit, I guess,” he shrugged.

Remus glanced around the room with narrowed eyes. While that certainly seemed like the truth, he couldn’t buy it.

“Yeah, I give it until one of them vaguely insults the others, and then everybody’s gonna shut down for the next week. That kinda tension doesn’t just go.”

Patton didn’t say anything. Half-gazing at the carpet, he didn’t look like he’d even heard. He was smiling, but it was one of those jumbled up expressions, the type that tried to span a hundred different feelings. He had so many expressions like that, that seemed bottomless and swirling and so intricate on a humanoid face that, in reality, wasn’t built to display something like that. It was uncanny- not like an eerie doll, but like something with unearthly beauty. This face, though, had tones of upset.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been around everybody,” Patton said.

It wasn’t a question and it didn’t need to be. While Remus wasn’t exactly known for keeping to himself, he couldn't be called sociable either. He dropped in to say something, usually random, and then he was gone as soon as he’d visited. Even before the first Patton incident, fuck, it had been weeks since he’d actually stuck around through something.

Since The Acceptance, now that Remus thought of it, he’d been spending more time alone than ever. Not all of his time- he remembered being surprised at Logan talking to him, willingly, like friends, and after that had even come Virgil and Roman. He saw people, talked to them, yeah. The time spent was friendlier, more welcoming, but it was so much less.

Well, it was obvious why: they visited him, but- like he’d mentioned, he’d been trying to give them some space.

“Sure, it's been awhile,” Remus admitted, “But I never expected shit to change so much around here, still.”

The haze on Patton’s face thickened like fog on the moors, a soft and sympathetic mist over his eyes that Remus knew was aimed at him (even if it was pointed more to a sort of middle distance).

“I don’t think I did, either,” Patton’s mouth barely moved, his voice less of a whisper and moreso a fragile breath. “I was hoping for it, but… I’m still trying to get used to stuff being allowed to change, you know?” He picked at a loose thread along the seam of the couch. “I haven’t done this stuff in a while, either.”

Remus’ head shot up, and he almost forgot that they weren’t the only two in the room. Somehow, he stopped himself from shouting:

“You- it has?”

A tiny smile. Something built up behind Patton’s eyes; a wave, dark and lonely and filling his bright blues with cloudy gray. “I just needed some alone time, after everything changed so much so fast. I still feel, I dunno, weird. I don’t know what’s wrong with me- but…” he swallowed, his head lifting. “I’m really happy for them,” he was staring- so very loving- first at Logan, then Roman, then Virgil and Janus. It was a wonder none of them felt his gaze on them, Remus thought, because he was sure if anyone looked at him that way, he’d burn up like a fae upon iron. “They deserve it so much. I know that not everything is perfect still, but, I’m just so proud of us anyways. I- I think maybe-”

He cut himself off, blinking rapidly. Remus gave the room a quick once over to make sure nobody was looking their way- and nobody was: Virgil was very resolutely trying to get everyone to stay on topic despite Janus and Logan’s continued tangenting, and Roman was scribing furiously on several different pieces of paper- before he inched close enough to curve his arm around Patton. Touching like that had steadily become familiar to both of them, and it didn’t take long for Patton to fall untense against his side. He leaned into him, muttering: “I mean, they’re all doing a lot better than me, that’s for sure. I- I don’t even know what I’m for anymore. Maybe that’s why I’ve been… ditching, really.”

Remus squeezed his shoulder. There were so many things he could’ve said and done, but all of them loud and fervent and definitely not subtle enough to go unnoticed by everyone. So, for the sake of Patton’s privacy, he settled on this:

“That makes two of us, Morey.”

The meeting that was planned to take two or three hours took the entire day, just as always. Hours and hours were spent in a room filled with excited conversation, of which the subject oscillated wildly between relevant topics and complete nonsense- which Remus and Patton did, eventually, tune back into (and contribute to as well, mainly in the nonsense department). Eventually, even Virgil gave up on trying to keep anything in order.

But the meeting ended on a good note anyway. Lots of good notes, actually, if the stacks upon stacks of paper they’d scribbled up were any indication. Mess, the sides had come to believe, was usually a measure of their productivity: if crumpled pages were strayed across the room, if forgotten pens and pencils balanced on every surface from coffee table to TV stand, and if- in the process of snacking- they’d accumulated enough dishes to fill the sink for days on end? Shit. Got. Done.

Remus stared over the chaos with unfocused eyes. He felt distantly proud of the stormish state the living room was in. Draped over the back of the sectional, he gnawed idly on a wood pencil, stripping its yellow into beige. The paint fell off in bitter chunks, and the taste made him think of grabbing some non-acrylic dinner before closing the night off. Maybe he’d steal some of whatever saccharine sweet Patton usually made in the late evenings, and then spend the rest of the night with him, anyway. Remus debated what would be the most fun (or if he was tired enough to sleep yet), partially aware as he did so that he’d chewed and swallowed the metal-eraser end of his pencil.

“Ugh,” a drawn out groan broke his thoughts, petulant and whiny. “Do you have any intention of helping us clean up this, the common area?”

Roman was kneeling beside Janus on the carpet, the pair surrounded by papers and binders and trashbags, the former of which they were sorting into either of the latter two, depending on how useful each page was. Roman had stopped working, however, to stare up at Remus indignantly. Remus glared right back.

“I’ve never had an intention in my life,” he answered.

Janus shrugged, smiling in that I-told-you-so way at Roman. But Roman, ever the nuisance, wasn’t letting it go.

“Come on! It’s not like you’re even doing anything!”

“I’m doing something,” Remus’ words were wide and wobbly as he stripped another line of paint off the pencil, breaking some splinters off into his teeth.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes,” another chunk of wood, down the hatch. “I’m flaying all these leftover pencils until they’re lead-sticks.”

Roman hopped up from the floor and dropped himself onto the couch, shoving himself into the way so jarringly that it reminded Remus of himself.

“Well, now you’re going to help us clean.”

Janus rolled his eyes, not even glancing up. “Roman, just leave it alone, we-”

“We are all parts of this whole now, including him! Remus-” Roman rounded on him again, “If you’re going to come down here and help us make all this mess, with all of your numerous contributions that we have to write down, you’ll help clean it like anybody else. Do you think that I like any of- of-” he gestured, flamboyantly, at the room, “This? Ugh, please, I’m a prince! But, fair is fair, and fair means everybody.”

And that was the point of the conversation in which Remus would cackle, push Roman backwards off the couch, and proclaim how much it’d go against his very being to clean a mess instead of cause it. He’d tell Roman how funny it was that he thought he could boss him around, because it always had been- that full-of-it Older Brother kind of attitude that had never worked. The Prince had never once managed to get him to do anything, and each attempt only got funnier than the last.

He didn’t say any of that, though.

Roman was bitching at him, not to go away this time, but to stay. Stay and help the group, because he was a part of said group. So he was asked to help them, the group that he was a part of, because he was part of it. That group.

“Okay,” he blurted, “Okay, I’ll- alright.”

Roman blinked at him, a look of disbelief spreading across his face. “You- oh!” he smiled, utterly baffled. “That was- very easy?”

Janus, too, was looking up at Remus with bewilderment, his task of paper-sorting all but forgotten. Remus couldn’t blame either of them, but he still huffed, trying very hard not to be embarrassed by that whole… moment.

He shook it off, rolling off the couch and standing up, jittery.

“Whatever, just- tell me what to pick up, okay?”

They seemed not to hear him, the gawking continuing on until he started working unprompted, and longer than that still. Each time he (begrudgingly) shoved something into a trashbag, it earned him another Exchange of Glances from the pair.

They got over it eventually, though, because there was a fuck-load more to clean than there was room to stare. So they cleaned.

Remus thought it would get old after a minute, and he’d finally gather up the guts to bail on them, but it just… never happened. It felt unnatural to be getting rid of a mess- like an animal having its fur brushed the wrong way, continuously- but by some point the sensation was distant. The rest of him was still busy processing, experiencing, maybe possibly overthinking this kind of recognition he’d never gotten before. It was handed to him now like it was something normal. The three of them worked together, and it was normal.

Acceptance, as it turned out, wasn’t synonymous with ‘soulless assimilation’. In fact, it was pretty fucking great, getting to watch his brother and best friend find documents from the floor with his ideas on them, then tucking them into a binder marked important, instead of a trashcan marked to burn. It was… surreal.

But the tidying was over in just an hour and a half- oh wow, never in a million years would Remus have thought an hour and a half of cleaning would be too little for him. He made a note to absolutely destroy something big and important later, to balance the universe out again.

Roman sank through the floor as soon as they were done, complaining loudly about how very exhausted he was. Remus teased him on his way out, but it was just for the habit- he was way too mushy to think of anything properly mean at the moment.

Janus watched him go, silent. He sat beside Remus on the couch, and despite his obvious tiredness, he waited a good few minutes before saying anything.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Remus shivered. Janus pulled him up into a hug (one that maybe dragged on for a little too long, but who was counting?), and it spelled out all the pride and care that he’d never been good at verbalizing. With that, he gave Remus a short nod, and then was gone as well.

Which made everyone else upstairs, probably in their rooms and halfway asleep. Then there was Remus, antsy in the living room, itchy with feelings.

Everyone but Patton, of course, who could still be heard humming in the kitchen; who never went up until he knew everyone else was in their rooms, true to the protective parent persona. Remus suddenly didn’t think he wanted anything else but to see Patton after what had happened, to talk to him, to…

He walked to the kitchen.

“Pat.”

Patton looked over his shoulder at Remus, up to his elbow in sudsy sink water. A smile fell naturally across his face.

“Hi,” his voice was low, delicate. “You about to head up?”

Remus watched his friend work, trailing into the room slowly. He grinned, “Are you kidding? I could stay up all night, if I wanted.”

“Do you want to?” Patton asked him.

Remus thought on it for a moment. He shrugged, iunno, leaned against the counter by the sink. Patton turned away again.

It was so quiet. No wind. No footsteps. Not a muffled voice upstairs, even- just the sound of water and ceramic hitting ceramic. Everything was still.

Remus hated it. Silence was fragile, and he crawled with the need to break it. He felt it get tense as it stretched out, and he just wanted to tear the air apart with sound. It felt like nothing mattered anymore, when peace was so easily able to drown it all out. Cold and alone. He hated it.

Sometimes, Remus imagined that if the silence went too long, he’d never be able to make a noise again. There were few things that made him so unhappy, but the quiet…

“What’s on your mind?” Patton asked.

Remus jolted. Patton was staring, concern gathering in his eyes the longer he did. Remus took a deep breath- he remembered something, something small and unimportant that Janus had told him once.

When one is so intensely happy, they can fall to agonizing upset even quicker than if they’d been mildly perturbed in the first place, because of the ferocity of the feelings. Something like that.

“A lot more than I’m willing to throw on your shoulders, Pops.”

Patton pouted. Actually. Fucken. Pouted. The worst part was, his puppy-face was actually working.

“Ugh,” Remus rolled his eyes, “Just- could I- I dunno, have a hug, or some shit?”

If Patton was surprised, he hid it well. God knew, that wasn’t exactly the kind of thing Remus would ask for. He almost never asked to get attention- taking it was much easier, and much more entertaining. Besides, if he’d ever asked before that point… well, he already knew what answer he would’ve gotten.

Patton’s smile only widened, until it was positively melting. “Of course you can,” he shut the sink off. “Of course.”

He reached haphazardly for a hand towel, to dry his arms. Remus, riding the high of that enthusiastic permission, absolutely could not wait that long. He latched his arms around Patton’s middle before the side had even finished talking, burying his face between his shoulder blades and hugging tight.

Patton went still, like he didn’t know what to do. After it became clear that Remus had no intention to move, Patton laughed, dreamy and soft, and shook his hands as dry as he could. He patted Remus’ forearm; bead-bracelets clattered under the Duke’s sleeves.

“Hey,” Patton said.

“Mmh?”

“Not that this isn’t lovely,” he laced his fingers with Remus’, squeezed them, “But I’d like it better if I could hug you back, ya know?”

Remus let go, reluctantly. In the true fashion of intrusive thoughts, there was a second he was so convinced Patton would run, now that he was freed. Make an escape from him, an escape from his claws.

He didn’t. He spun right around and pulled Remus against his chest- one arm linked around his torso, the other winding into his tangled hair. Anyone, at a glance, could see that Patton was huge- but up close the difference was dizzying: his wide chest, encircling arms that seemed to be made of nothing but muscle and padding, and that height, all made him so… comforting. Big and strong, a body that disguised power in soft edges and fat. If he squeezed just a little too tight, in fact, Remus wouldn’t be surprised if Patton could make splinters out of his bones. Which Remus definitely, definitely wouldn’t mind, but the knowledge that Patton not only could do that but also wouldn’t ever do that- that was what really did him in.

And he’d hugged Patton before- months ago, and somehow Patton had seemed so small then, when everything had started- but being hugged? Properly, too, not underwater while one of them was drowning- it was a world of difference. No panic, no breakdowns, just a real, solid hug.

He could just ask for this and then have it. He could smell sugar cookies and candle wax, and feel somebody- a willing body- pressing in. It was weird. He thought that someday, he might get used to it. He wanted a chance to get used to it.

“Do you wanna talk now?” Patton prompted, forcibly reminding Remus that he had a bloodhound’s nose for emotional distress.

“I don’t know.”

Patton hummed, his fingers scratching through Remus’ hair. “Today went better than I thought it would.”

“You didn’t have to bring me, if you thought it was gonna be bad.”

“I wasn’t worried because of you! I was worried because of me. Things have been… a lot for me, lately.”

“Oh,” Remus angled his head to the side, looking up at him. “Yeah. I feel ya.”

“But they were all so much more patient, weren’t they,” Patton’s eyes went a little misty, the way they always did when he talked about his family. “Everything’s different now, and I guess that scared me, but I think that now… it’s a good different, you know?”

“Like us, right?” Remus laughed, “This is the craziest difference, if ya think about it.”

Patton chuckled, the sound reverberating in his chest so that Remus felt it more than heard it.

“I don’t think I would’ve gotten through with today without you, you know that?”

It was deeply honest. There was a beat.

“I-” Oh fuck, Remus was choked up, when did that happen? “I wouldn’t have even had a day like today, without you, so. Do with that what you want.”

Remus buried his face in Patton’s sternum, just to avoid the sad understanding in his eyes.

He- he wasn’t exactly made for the care he was getting, not the kind of softness in that face. Not when Patton was still patiently untangling his matt of hair while they hovered in the stillness of the dark, empty kitchen, and Remus desperately didn’t want to cry.

Patton gave him a minute to breathe, at the very least, before:

“They like you, though. Janus loves you.”

“Yeah, okay, but it’s not-”

“I know how you feel,” said Patton, and did. “Like they couldn’t actually care about us, even though it doesn’t make sense for them not to. It’s one of those things that’s easy to forget,” Remus could hear the smile in his voice. “So it’s good we have each other, when we need to get out of our own heads. At least, it’s like that for me, I don’t know if you even-”

“No,” Remus curled his claws in the back of Patton’s shirt, something dark and emotional flooding like tar through his chest. “Nah, you’re right, Morey. This is good for us.”

Remus shook his head at nothing in particular. He forced his hands unballed, pulled back, and wormed his way out of Patton’s hug after way too long.

His skin felt like paper from the affection, like he’d been electrocuted, and while that was fun- was amazing- for a while, he didn’t think he could handle much more in one sitting.

Patton let him go, smiling warmly, leaning back against the counter. His eyes were shiny and wet, but he was content.

“Thanks,” Remus said.

“What for? The hug?”

“No- I mean, that too, but I was saying ‘thanks, for caring’. For giving enough of a shit about me to try and help.”

Patton smiled, solemnly.

“I told you so,” he breathed, “I promised I would like you when I got to know you, and then I did. I do!”

Remus felt a grin returning to his face, sliding across his lips more naturally than anything else he’d had to deal with that night.

“Yeah. You aren’t too bad yourself, Pat.”

Chapter Seven

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @donnieluvsthings @intruxiety @thefivecalls @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @gayformlessblob

#sanders sides #ts #fanfiction #fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #ts fanfic #intruality #qpr intruality #platonic intruality #remus #patton

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magioftheseas · 4 years

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One thing I don’t really see a lot of people mentioning is how in his first meeting, Tsukasa was pretty easily banished by Nene throwing tea at him.

In hindsight this is...incredibly weird because we later see that Tsukasa is super overpowered as he’s capable of previously thought impossible tasks, namely killing a wonder in their boundary. Even in his next confrontation with a (human) character, we see that he’s anything but a slouch when it comes to combat.

So, why is he so weak in that first appearance? Well, there’s this line that strikes me as really weird...and please don’t mind Tsukasa’s weird rambling about fish.

“I still can’t move around that well yet.”

Doesn’t this imply that Tsukasa hasn’t been around for that long? If he’s a supernatural as old as Hanako, you’d think he’d have the same capabilities that Hanako does from the start, but as we’ve seen, he’s actually really weak in his first appearance.

However, he not only gets stronger but he gets stronger at a rapid pace considering we go from “weak to the tea” to “literally kills a supposedly invincible supernatural”. We do know that Hanako is freakishly strong despite being young by supernatural standards, but even with him as a comparison, Tsukasa’s much, much stronger in his current state. Getting back to that line, “I still can’t move around that well yet”, it’s important to note that Tsukasa can also enter boundaries without expressed permission, another thing that Hanako’s incapable of doing. What is the explanation for this fast and exaggerated development in Tsukasa’s capabilities?

Other things to keep in mind is how Tsukasa isn’t exactly common knowledge among the supernaturals.

Considering Tsukasa’s...everything, I feel like he wouldn’t fly under the radar for long. Especially not when his similar appearance to Hanako would draw attention, as seen here. Not to mention, we know that the rumors going into disarray was a recent development at the start of the series. How did that start? If it was Tsukasa, then why then? Why now? Tsukasa’s shown to be pretty eager about starting rumors and generally comes across as impatient and overzealous.

While the radio is shown to be possibly taken from the Yugi Household, it’s still unclear if Tsukasa had always owned it...and if it always had the ability to change rumors.

(Side-note: If Tsukasa’s old radio can literally warp the fabric of reality, what the hell can Hanako’s kokeshi doll do... I’m afraid to ask...)

Another thing that makes me feel like Tsukasa hasn’t been around for long is, well, another line of his.

“How many years has it been? Ten? Twenty...?”

This implies the twins haven’t seen each other in decades and that the meeting on the rooftop was likely the first time they had seen each other since, well, before dying/being murdered. Considering Tsukasa’s...EVERYTHING...it’s hard to believe that he’d purposely avoid seeing his brother for that long. Tsukasa does mention he got there with Sakura’s help...

And there’s a roadblock here because it’s unclear how long Tsukasa and Sakura have known each other. I feel like it’s safe to assume it’s recent...but then that brings to question how they were able to come together at a time where Tsukasa’s capabilities were possibly far more limited. Mind you, it’s still unclear if Sakura is human or a supernatural, although there is more evidence towards the latter as Mitsuba explicitly compartmentalizes her as one. Still, there’s hardly anything conclusive about the nature of their relationship.

While Sakura does state that the two are bound and she’s beholden to him, and while Tsukasa has certainly shown himself to be opportunistic in Hell of Mirrors and Picture Perfect, the timing still comes across as strange. Again, why now?

Yeah, here’s where I come up completely dry. There’s no reason, stated or otherwise, for Tsukasa to be acting up now and not like, ten, twenty years sooner. But the idea that Tsukasa’s only been active for a short amount of time interests me.

In part because there is a possible explanation for where Tsukasa would’ve been until recently. Within Hanako’s boundary, because he’s most likely Hanako’s yorishiro. Similarly to Sumire, he may have been trapped and living in a recreation of their past. Or maybe he was wholly unconscious? I do think that the Broadcasting Room is at least attached to Hanako’s boundary in some way, going by the Tea Party chapters.

If Tsukasa, being Hanako’s yorishiro, was previously confined to Hanako’s boundary...then I wonder how he escaped, and if someone or something assisted him in doing so. And if that someone or something is responsible for Tsukasa being such a strange force.

But these are just ideas. That I like to think about. I don’t have any real faith in them being canonically confirmed but...they’re at least fun, right? :’D

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #jshk spoilers #tsukasa yugi #meta #Magi Blah

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playitaagain · 4 years

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pretend enough (and it may just become reality)

For: @lemon-patches

Prompt: #31 “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

Warning: underage drinking, swearing, JJ kissing a lot of people that aren’t Pope, so some angst for sure, i’m a terrible editor, so probably some grammar/spelling errors

Author’s Note: Thanks so much for requesting! I really appreciate it. Kie is my go to matchmaker (literally wrote a fic about it called matchmaker) and here she is doing her thing and trying to help these idiot boys realize their feelings.

This takes place after the season final minus the whole Kie/Pope thing that happened. I’m pretty much ignoring that.

Feel free to request. Here is my post about it.

If JJ squeeze his eyes closed tight enough, he can pretend there are a pair of dark eyes in front of him, chapped lips pressing against his. They’re the same dark eyes that he swears can look right into his soul, read him without a word. The same pair of lips that can build him up in moments, encouragement and warmth and home lingering in the air every time he talks, even if it’s an insult on his tongue. JJ never knew an insult could sound so good, but he also knows that Pope never means it harshly.

JJ’s hands slide down a smooth back and he pretends that they’re sliding down Pope’s muscles, the one he has the pleasure of seeing almost everyday on the boat. It’s near impossible to tear his eyes away from Pope. It doesn’t even matter what they’re doing. He could be making a sandwich. It didn’t matter because JJ always found his gaze drifting toward the other.

The soft curves were hard to ignore though and it instantly brings JJ back, out of his fantasies. The girl sitting on his lap is easy, warm and inviting. She’s everything JJ used to want in a boneyard party, but he hasn’t in a long time. Actually, longer than he is ever willing to admit to himself. There was no way he would have passed this opportunity up before everything, before the gold. There was no way he would have let his mind wonder to Pope like he let it now, even thought he had known long before the gold he held some feelings for his best friend.

JJ pulls away when a soft moan leaves the girls lips, frown tugging down his lips as she latches herself onto his neck. He sighs, giving the girl a soft push away from him. She furrows her brows and he simply shake his head. The huff that leaves her lips just has JJ sitting back, allowing the girl to slip off his lap and go find another person to latch onto.

“I’ve never seen you turn down a willing touron before,” Kie says, sitting next to him. She has two solo cups and she goes to hand him one. He downs the liquid in the cup as he shrugs his shoulders.

“Didn’t feel like it,” he mumbles, digging around in his pocket for anything to get his mind off of Pope. He comes up empty handed though, supplies hidden away from the Heyward’s in the back of Pope’s closet. He forgot to grab it on their way out and he’s cursing himself now.

Kie doesn’t seem to fall for his statement though, frown tugging down her lips as JJ pushes himself up. The keg is only a few feet away and he is quick to fill his cup, Kie’s voice loud over the sound of the music. “That’s not it. What’s wrong?” And JJ wants to tell her, wants to tell someone, but he glances over at Pope, sitting awkwardly on the other side of the fire. There is a girl next to him, but he doesn’t look too engaged in the conversation. He actually looks pretty annoyed, like he just wants to get away from her.

“It’s nothing. I’m going to head out actually. It looks like Pope needs your help more than me.”

He leaves without another word.

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

The hand on JJ’s shoulder catches his attention and he frowns, turning to find a beautiful touron smiling at him. She’s everything he used to go for, but he isn’t really in the mood right now. The fire is starting to go out, the party fading in the background as he talks to Kie. They had recently gotten an update from John B in the Bahamas and the two of them where in a pretty deep conversation about it.

“Do you want to dance?” JJ can hear the innuendo in her voice, because he knows she doesn’t just want to dance. She’s here to have a good time and she wants JJ to give it to her.

He can’t help but glance over though, Pope on Kie’s other side. He’s been worried about his summer reading the last few days and is sitting with a notebook in his lap as he scribbles down words for a report on one of the books. It was the only way JJ could convince him to go, but it also met that Pope was occupied most of the night. He had barely even spared JJ a glance when JJ asked if he wanted to smoke.

JJ glances at Kie next and she looks a bit confused, eyebrows raised as she glances over at Pope and back to JJ. JJ has always hated how perceptive Kie was, always able to read the three of them. He can see it in her eyes, the questioning look, the way she just knows something is up. JJ has been kind of shit at hiding his feelings lately, because Pope was Pope and JJ couldn’t help but find himself watching the other closely, listening to the other ramble on about school and college and work.

He doesn’t linger on it though, simply glances back to the girl as he nods, letting her lead him out to dance. If he tries hard enough he can pretend Pope is in front of him, body presses close and lips on his neck.

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

Kie watches JJ walk away, frown pulling down her lips. JJ has been acting weird the last few parties they’ve attended. Kie has never supported his sleeping around, but it’s unusual for JJ not to. The other was known around the cut for sleeping with anything that walked.

It’s one glance over at Pope that seems to solidify her suspicions. The other has finally looked up from his notebook, pen in hand and knees draw up as he looks over the top. He looks dejected, sad and Kie is pretty sure she has seen that same look on JJ’s face the last few weeks directed at Pope.

Shit. She can’t believe she didn’t realize this sooner. The two boys had only grown closer since they moved in together. Kie had started to notices there were some lingering glances and more touching on JJ’s end, but she hadn’t realized how much it was affecting the boy.

She was going to have to help these two idiots get together.

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

JJ is pressing the touron into the nearby tree, lips dragging down her neck, eyes closed as he pretends to drag his tongue over dark skin. He lets his finger wonder down her side, rest along the strip of bare skin between her short ass shorts and her top. It’s always the noise though, high and annoying that seem to get to him, causing him to pull away. It’s hard to pretend it’s Pope when they start to make noise, not that he would even know what Pope sounds like in a situation like this.

He doesn’t even have to tell the girl to go away, because Kie is tapping on his shoulder, giving the girl a death glare until she tugs down her shirt and walks away from them. He wants to turn and tell Kie to fuck off, like he would have before the gold hunt, like he should be doing now to cover his tracks, but he doesn’t have it in him today.

“You’re being a fucking idiot.” And ok. JJ probably deserves that, but he isn’t exactly sure what she is referring too.

“What did I do this time?” Because he just wants to go home now and curl up in bed. He would prefer to curl up in Pope’s bed, has after a nightmare, but he knows he can’t so he’ll settle for the makeshift bed on the floor, because being close to Pope is better than nothing.

“Stop hurting Pope you dumbass.” And that confuses JJ even more. His face must show it too because Kie is smacking his arm, turning to point to the boy in question. JJ doesn’t think he looks much different than usual, a bit awkward and out of place. At least he didn’t bring his notebook this time around to do his school work.

“How am I hurting him?”

“You’re an idiot,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. She doesn’t explain further as she walks away from him, plopping herself down next to Pope. She takes the beer out of his hand and takes a long sip before handing it back.

JJ doesn’t dwell on it as he makes his way over to the two of them. Pope looks up at him and he swear he can see the hurt in his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced by a small smile as the beer seems to settle in.

JJ doesn’t go home with a touron that night

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

The hand on his shoulder startles him, lost in thought as he absentmindedly makes shapes in the sand. Pope takes the seat next to him, glancing back at the party. JJ would usually be in the middle of all those people, flirting with anything that walked, but all he wanted to do was go home and hang out with Pope. The parties and drugs used to help turn his brain off, forget about his hard life, but after a while, Pope started to do the same thing. He was able to make him forget about his shitty life.

“That touron was cute,” Pope says, awkward and a little uncomfortable. JJ had recently brushed off a touron, annoyed and simply done with her persistent cries for help.

The way Pope is looking at him though, a little hurt and awkward. He looks like he didn’t actually want to ask him, was simply asking him to make conversation, what used to be normal conversation between the two of them. It didn’t seem so normal now though.

JJ thinks back to Kie’s words the other night and searches Pope’s face. He doesn’t know why, but he feels like now is the time. “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you,” JJ says, not taking his eyes off Pope.

He watches the shock play over Pope’s face, multiple emotions flickering as he searches JJ’s. JJ lets him process the words, knowing Pope will need a moment to formulate his own. The other has never had much of a talent with words and JJ knows he just dropped a bomb.

He doesn’t expect Pope to lean forward, to finally feel those chapped lips press against his, soft and tentative. He can tell Pope’s nervous, knows the other hasn’t kissed many people and JJ takes the lead, head tipping slightly for a better angle, finger moving to brush the other’s cheek.

For the first time, JJ doesn’t have to pretend. He doesn’t have to guess what it would be like to have Pope kissing him. He doesn’t have to pull away because the wrong sounds are leaving the wrong pair of lips. He doesn’t have to because Pope is actually kissing him, nervous and warm and JJ suddenly regrets not doing this earlier. Kissing Pope felt like home, like this was where he was met to be. This was everything he wanted.

The low groan that leaves Pope’s lips has JJ shifting closer, handing dragging up Pope’s back and suddenly he gets to touch those muscles that he has spent weeks admiring. It’s nothing like kissing a random touron, pretending to know what the other felt like under his finger tips.

Pope is the first to pull away, breath heavy and forehead pressed to JJ’s. “Shit,” he mumbles and JJ can’t help but agree.

JJ lets his eyes flutter open, blue meeting the dark brown in front of him. This is everything he could have imagined and so much more. “Wanna head home?” Pope nods, letting JJ take his hand as they walk along the beach. They text Kie when they get back, telling her not to wait up. She texts back a few seconds later. It reads ‘FINALLY.’ They simply chuckle as they fall into bed together. JJ finally gets to sleep next to Pope without the excuse of a nightmare with the added benefits of lips pressed against his as they drift off.

#jjpope #jj x pope #mayward #jj #pope #outer banks #this is much longer than i thought it would be #i hope you enjoyed #the question is #will this show up in tags #cause my stuff usually doesn't #not that i have may tags #e writes

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thelioncourts · 4 years

Text

title: the mannequin gallery fandom: captive prince pairing: damen/laurent rating: (eventually) explicit words: 4695 for chapter one (1/?)

story summary: If things would have gone the way they were supposed to, Damen and Laurent would have never met. But things didn't go the way they were supposed to, not at all, and their meeting ended up being the equivalent of skydiving with a malfunctioning parachute. Damen tried not to complain. After all, he was now living his dream; he was travelling with his best friend without having to make sure their "I"s were dotted and their "T"s crossed. And, sure, Laurent was difficult to work with, to work for, but he was also great to look at and they made it work well as long as they were anywhere but in Paris. But when Laurent's past begins to cause present-day problems, Damen finds out those difficulties Laurent constantly displays were a bit more warranted than he could have ever imagined. And Laurent? Laurent finds out the truth -- and finds out how to smile.

chapter one note: hi, guys! so -- this fic is my baby. i've been fiddling with the idea a bit over a year now and i'm finally debuting it in all its mistakes and all my love for it. before i ramble too long about anything else i feel like i should put a disclaimer here in saying that: this is by no means near finished. i have a plot and major plot points written out in detail and i have the first three chapters completed (prologue doesn't count as a chapter), but that is it. i know how a lot of people feel about WIPs (i feel that way in many cases with WIPs too) and i just want to get that out there for anyone who does want to wait until it's a finished product.now! i fear the summary makes this sound really lighthearted and, while it is and will be (i hope!) it is also going to delve into some darkness, namely in canonical captive prince fashion of pedophilia and rape and molestation. i'm not sure it that will be mentioned or if it will be described or anything, but i feel like that needs to be said for anyone looking for a fluff-fest.

Damen knew what people thought about him. Damen knew that people thought he wasn’t living up to his full potential. Damen knew that people thought he was relying too much on his ‘fifteen minutes of fame.’ Damen knew that people thought he’d be left with nothing in five years. Hell, he had heard it enough from his own father, from his brother, from his ex-girlfriend who was now his brother’s fiancé. Nik had heard it all too.

But Damen knew a lot of other things too. Damen knew that ‘lucky’ didn’t even begin to describe his current life and Damen knew that one wasn’t meant to look a gift horse, or lucky horse, in the mouth. Damen knew, after all his experience, how to cultivate fleeting moments into events to be remembered. Damen knew, after all his experience, that networking was by far the most useful career tool. Most importantly, Damen knew he’d never be happy sitting at the head of a boardroom table or behind a desk in an office eight hours a day. And since the opportunity to do what he did had landed in his lap, he knew he would have been a fool to not take it and run with it. Even knowing what people thought, Damen didn’t regret it, not once.

Still, despite what Damen knew, it didn’t make his brain stop replaying every argument he’d had with his family in the past or, in this instance, about an hour ago via phone call. It didn’t matter how many times Nik told him every harsh word out of their mouths was all out of worry on his father’s part, all out of jealousy on his brother Kastor’s part, all out of regret and envy on Kastor’s fiancé’s part. Each argument always left Damen’s head spinning.

It took the chill of the mountain air rushing against his face to pull him back to reality. He and Nik had been in Cortina d’Ampezzo, a ski town in northern Italy, for just over a week. Today was their last day and they were using it to actually enjoy themselves as opposed to creating content. It’s why they were hitting their favorite ski slopes one last time and why there was cold wind ruddying Damen’s cheeks and why specks of snow were hitting his goggles, leaving them streaked with condensation.

Finally where the ground began to level out, Damen turned his legs, shifting them to just the right angle, before he allowed himself to slide and slow down to a gentle stop. Everything felt wobbly under his feet.

“Quit thinking about it.”

Damen looked up to see Nik who had been right behind him on the course. Nik was already pulling at his goggles, at his hat, and he shook his hair free of both bindings. His nose was red. Giving Damen a pointed look to back up his words, he waited a beat before moving to unbuckle his feet from the skis.

“I’m not thinking about it,” Damen said, copying Nik’s movements.

“Yes, you are. You almost veered off course back there.”

“But I didn’t.”

[Continue on AO3]

“You should really let me photograph you when you’re like this,” Nik said. “We can do a whole thing, call it ‘The Real Damen.’ Let everyone know you’re not always big smiles and no shirts, that sometimes you’re a pouty loser.”

“I’m not a pouty loser,” Damen argued, face screwing up with the insult.

“See,” Nik started quickly, snapping and pointing. “That face. Let me take a picture of that face and we’ll show off the human side of you.”

“You’re a dick,” Damen said. “And what do you mean ‘human side’ of me?”

Their feet crunched across the snow as they made their way back to the ski lodge they’d grown fond of in their week here. They’d grown so fond of it that they made sure to take plenty of pictures outside and inside of the place, of the food and drink offered, of the cute-as-a-button ski instructor who had freaked out upon seeing Damen the first time and who had shown them all the tricks to having a successful ski-filled week.

Just before walking in, Nik clapped Damen on the shoulder and said, “You know what I was thinking about while we were skiing? I was thinking about how you’re going to be lucky to even get a pity invite to your own brother’s wedding.”

“You’re a dick,” Damen repeated, but he was laughing. That was something they were both glad about.

Beyond their dinner reservations that night, Damen and Nik had no other plans for their last day in Cortina and so they spent it wandering aimlessly as opposed to how they wandered about the other seven days, like men on a mission. There wasn’t an urgent need to get content out given how their system worked. They were almost always two weeks ahead, minus the times that they needed to post in real time, though whether that came from posting on Damen’s Instagram story or from carefully, but quickly, edited shots Nik completed in double-time depended entirely on the ‘what’ and the ‘who.’

For the next few hours, they meandered around the streets doing the fun things that inspired them to do just this all those years ago. They ran inside local shops, seeing things that weren’t found in every store across the globe, they took in the talented musicians all along the streets – even in the snow – singing heart-pulling melodies, plucking at echoing strings, pounding on drums that were felt in one’s soul, and they ate so much finger food, making themselves nearly sick. Around them were the Dolomites, larger than life and covered in snow, and sometimes Damen looked up at them and remembered how cold it had been up there, how thin the air was. He also looked up and thought about how awesome those pictures were going to look once Nik got around to editing this stop.

By seven o’clock they were back at their hotel, the Hotel Miramonti, which was made famous for being in a James Bond film (For Your Eyes Only (1981) starring Roger Moore). For their final night, final photos, and for that once-in-a-lifetime thing that had been the inspiration for two teenagers’ bucket list, they decided to dress up for dinner in the best suits they could find in such a town and live it like they were James Bond...because you could do that when you were them.

“Do I look like I’m ready to fight international crime?” Damen asked, stepping out while artfully checking his cufflinks.

“You look like a tool,” Nik deadpanned.

“That’s at least the fifth time you’ve been mean to me today” Damen said. He swiped their room card, tucking it into his black leather wallet, and elbowed Nik as they exited the room. It was cold outside in the mountains in January and Damen was grateful for the coat he’d gotten here as well. He shoved his hands into his pockets, watching as air left from his mouth and rose to form clouds in front of his face.

“Only the fifth time? I’m slacking then,” Nik said. They walked in silence, letting the feeling of being in this place wash over them. Cortina was lively at night. Its restaurants and shops were full of laughter and song, people warming their hands near fires and their blood with alcohol, and Damen wondered how many of these people came here every year and how many were first time visitors, equally as awed by the beauty as he was.

Nik was a step behind him, had been a step behind him all day really, and Damen tried not to dwell on it; but, given how his own conversation with his family had gone, he couldn’t help but think about Nik’s own. He was definitely acting like something was wrong, but he hadn’t said a word about any of it.

“Did your dad give you a hard time again?” Damen finally asked.

Nik huffed out a laugh, that familiar one that said everything he didn’t have to. Still, he said “Not as hard a time as your own gave you.”

A car full of young women drove by them and three of the girls had gloved hands extended out the windows, braving the cold for a ‘hello’ at two well-dressed strangers on the street and Damen, ever the charmer, yelled his own ‘hello’ back at them. They laughed as though he said something awfully funny.

There was a small bar just up the road that was clearly the place to be in Cortina on a Thursday evening. The line, careening out the door, was bubbling with impatience, excitement, and the desire for a packed room of body heat to fight the cold. Damen and Nik both watched as a couple talked animatedly to one another before she moved in, pressing what was clearly an ice-cold hand on her boyfriend’s forearm, making him jump. She laughed and he laughed and the guy behind them mocked them both.

“If this place we’re going to ends up being like that one restaurant back home, we should stop by here afterward and get something good,” Damen said.

“I still maintain that one place is lying about their Michelin star,” Nik said as agreement.

“When you’re a Michelin star restaurant with a three-star Yelp rating, something’s up,” Damen said. “Maybe we should change up everything and talk about food instead. We get real heated about food, I think it’d be great.”

Nik hummed and Damen turned, just so, to look at him. He had his phone in hand, eyes scanning the screen like a teenager waiting for someone to text them back. Damen hit him with an elbow, watching as Nik fumbled once to keep his phone from landing on the snow-wet ground.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Nik said, pocketing his phone.

Damen shushed him. “You’ve been weird all day.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Yeah, you have.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Nik,” Damen huffed.

Nik sighed deeply, his chest rising high underneath the fitted suit jacket, and he looked up to the sky, watching the cold air moved by the disturbance of warmth.

“Look,” he said after a moment’s pause. “I have something I want to talk to you about. It’s something I should have talked to you about weeks ago, but no time seemed right.”

Damen stopped right in the middle of the walkway they were on, but the few people anywhere behind them just walked on by as though not bothered by the brief interruption in their own journeys. “Spill.”

“No, it can wait until we’re on our way to –” Nik trailed.

“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about at dinner. But let’s talk about this first,” Damen said.

“We need to get on the same page for where we’re going next,” Nik argued. “You know we’re a mess if we don’t have at least ideas in place before we get somewhere.”

“I know, but if whatever this is has you stressed, we should talk about it now.”

“Damen, come on, this is the first dinner we’ve had in seven days that’s not going to be cold by the time we eat it. Let’s just enjoy this, figure out our plans for –”

“I’ve got a few ideas.”

“Right. And then we’ll talk.”

The doors were opened for them because it was that kind of place and they were greeted by a too-gorgeous hostess and an equally stunning coat check attendant who both smiled at them in the dim lighting of the restaurant. They were led to their seats, the way between tables spacious, and just as they were about to sit, Damen put a hand on Nik’s forearm.

“Hang on,” he started. “You’re not bailing on me anytime soon, are you?”

Nik, with his lifetime of patience, didn’t roll his eyes, but the desire to do so was there.

“I knew it,” Damen said with the confidence of someone acting like they had it all figured out.

They ordered wine because they were in Italy and how could they not, and every item on the menu was so tempting Damen spent a good twenty minutes struggling to decide on just one. He decided to voice that fact out loud.

“I know that, at this rate, we’re going to be until the sun rises, but I could genuinely eat everything.”

“Well, choose one of the everything you could eat and get on with telling me about our next destination,” Nik said, having long decided on a nice risotto.

Taking Nik’s words to heart, Damen spent another minute or so finalizing a decision before landing on a bollito misto to pair well with the Barbera wine they had already drained a bottle of.

“Alright. I know we’ve been talking about exploring the more eastern parts of Europe, but given that I’d actually like to have the time to research it and to also not go there in the endings of winter, I’ve decided on a new place in a familiar country,” Damen explained. “Berlin.”

“Berlin?”

“Yes. We’ve spent time in Frankfurt and did that tour of Rothenburg a few years back, but it’s been some time since we’ve been to Germany and Berlin is full of things to do. I could also really do with some of that schnitzel we had that one time.”

“You don’t even remember the schnitzel,” Nik reminded him. “You were so drunk because we were there during Oktoberfest and you were competing against veteran Germans at their own holiday. I told you the schnitzel was good.”

“Well,” Damen started with a laugh, “then I’d like to try the schnitzel and remember it this time!”

They were about to start a meaningless bit of banter, something they always did, like brothers who couldn’t keep their mouths closed and their thoughts to themselves, when Nik’s phone rang, causing a few glances from other patrons in the restaurant. It wasn’t uncommon for them both to get a slew of phone calls throughout the day. They had plenty of family, friends, and acquaintances all around the world to keep them busy, and none of those categories included the times they got called for interviews or received offers from brands to advertise in their posts. When they were out like this though, they were both pretty good at giving their eyes and brains a rest from social media so Damen was surprised to see Nik’s hand jump to his phone as though it was a lifeline, or a ransom.

“I’ve got to take this,” he said after remembering to breathe, and he didn’t wait to get a ‘No problem!’ or ‘What’s going on?’ from Damen. Instead he quickly and politely stood from the table and excused himself out the door that led to the currently empty outdoor sitting area.

Damen couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward in his seat like a nosy ya-ya watching the neighbors from her open kitchen window. It was dark out and the lighting of the outdoor seating area was minimal given nobody was going to brave the cold just for dinner and a view; it made it hard to see Nik who was swathed in an already-dark suit. Still, Damen watched, hoping to see something akin to relief or peace or excitement or something good take over his best friend’s face and replace the anxiety that had been there as they had talked on their walk to the restaurant.

For the first few minutes, Damen, continuously sipping on his wine and munching on the bread sitting on the table, could just see him through the throng of people between their table and the door, through the smaller windows of the door itself, through the decorative greenery falling into perfect place just beyond the entrance. Nik was standing there, back to the window, with one arm up and holding the phone to his ear and the other crossed over his chest, hand clenching at the fabric of his newly rented suit. In the time it took Damen to order another drink and wait for its arrival, Nik moved, his walk and talk taking him out of Damen’s eyesight. So, Damen continued to sip on his drink, waiting.

And waiting. And waiting. And ordering another drink. And waiting. And waiting.

It was safe to say Damen’s head was appropriately fuzzy when Nik came back, goosebumps on the exposed skin of his wrists. Damen watched him carefully, looking for familiar signs of something good, but the only thing Damen could recognize was a thrumming anxiety he hadn’t seen since Nik hit the decline button on his acceptance to university all those years ago.

“What was that about?” Damen asked. The words felt heavy – no, furry – on his tongue.

When Nik finally looked up at him and took in the almost-emptied wine glass, he physically shook his head no, as though telling himself instead of Damen. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Are you sure?” Damen asked. The tablecloth was moving with the shaking of Nik’s leg.

“Yeah, it can wait.”

Even though Nik said it could wait, it clearly couldn’t. The remainder of dinner was tense. It felt weighed down by the phone call that had Nik all discombobulated. Damen had tried for conversation, had tried explaining plans for a stopover in Germany, but he was drunk, and things were coming out jumbled and Nik was only responding with disinterested sounding hums, so Damen stopped trying. He opted for more wine instead.

The walk back to the hotel was even worse than the remainder of dinner. Nik seemed to do everything he could to keep with the day’s pattern of staying one step behind Damen at all times and Damen was so focused on walking in a straight line that he couldn’t keep the energy about him to care, not until they were back at the hotel and attempting a climb up the staircase to their room. 407.

Damen tried swiping the room card once, twice, and he was too uncoordinated having exhausted all the energy on walking. Nik gently pried the card from Damen’s hands and, once inside, beelined straight for the bathroom, hands pulling at the suit that felt sweltering in northern Italy’s chilly January weather, and Damen sat down on one of the beds, fingers fumbling with the fine laces of his shoes. It seemed like an eternity until Nik came back out, the whole scene nearly identical to the one at dinner, but Damen had had time to come up with something to say this time, even if his brain was still fuzzy – furry? – with Barbera wine.

“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked, the laugh in his voice unavoidable with the wording, but the honest fear behind the words tangible.

“What?” Nik asked, incredulously. He looked a lot more comfortable, dressed as they usually did in shorts and a thin t-shirt. It was his old football tee from school, the number on the back almost completely faded and the lion of their team name not near as ferocious as it had once been.

“Did your family finally get to you? Did you finally get a real job? Are you going to be a salary man now? Are you going to wear a suit like the one tonight all the time?”

There was a beat, then two, and then Nik was laughing, the sound so wonderful after hours of strained silence. And it was such an infectious laugh – though whether that was because the situation was actually funny, because it was late in the evening, or because Damen was still drunk, he wasn’t sure – that Damen started to laugh too. They laughed so loud and so long that someone in a room next to them banged twice on the wall, shouting something indiscernibly Italian through their laughter.

“You really think I could give up all of this for a desk job back home?” Nik asked, though they both knew the question was rhetorical. They had talked about it enough in their travels for it to be too familiar a topic. “I’m not going anywhere. But you might after I tell you about that phone call.”

“Try me.”

Nik sat down across from him on the other bed, leg shaking like it had been at the restaurant. He looked like a man standing at the gallows, allowing himself to be subjected to his fate. And Damen was quite confused and continued to be confused even as Nik started to speak.

“Do you remember three months ago when we were in Morocco and I woke you up at three in the morning and dragged you out to take pictures until after the sun had risen?”

“I definitely remember that because I was not happy. You didn’t even let me get coffee.”

“Do you remember how you told me that that whole thing was really weird and the day after you said it was even weirder that I spent over twelve hours going through all the photos and getting them edited the way they needed to be?”

Damen hummed. “Yeah, you’re not usually that anal about it all.” Nik sighed heavily at him.

“I was finishing my portfolio to send to,” Nik sighted again, “well, a lot of places. Places in Paris. For Paris Fashion Week.”

The raising of Damen’s eyebrow said everything he didn’t have to and Nik put his hands out in an almost defensive manner, face mimicking Damen’s own of surprise, as though he was surprised by himself for saying it, for doing it.

“I know I’ve never shown interest in photographing the fashion world, but the opportunity can’t be overlooked. Especially if I want to stand out from the thousands, or millions, of social media photographers out there. I saw Lazar, that French photographer we ran into last year, talking about it and the impulsivity hit me.”

“You’re never impulsive,” Damen said.

“But I was.” Nik stood and moved to the window, eyes searching the barely illuminated night of Cortina. “I spent a day thinking about how I was submitting my type of work to a bunch of snobs in the fashion industry who don’t care about anything we do. Then I forgot about it. We were busy enough and it wasn’t the most important thing to be focused on, so it fell to the back of my mind. It wasn’t until I saw Lazar say Dior had called him that I started to try and brush it off as a lost opportunity, but two days later I got an email from a man named Estienne asking if I would be available for a phone call. A phone call from Etoile whose owner called at dinner and offered me an opportunity to come shoot for them.”

“Wait, which brand is Etoile?” Damen asked.

“You’ve seen them before. They were big in the news about two years ago for a floral design they did for their fall collection. They’re also the only all-male modeling and clothing agency in Paris,” Nik said.

“And they called you? They want you to come to Paris and photograph their models and their clothes during the,” Damen struggled for a moment to find a good comparison, “fashion Olympics?”

“Calm down,” Nik said, but he was smiling; he couldn’t help smiling. “Because this time is such a big deal for all the brands and because they get so many applications, they’ve called ten photographers back. They want us all to come to Paris early and attend a few photoshoots with their runway models. They want us to get to know them, to familiarize ourselves with the models and the fabrics. The owner says he believes photography is best when the subjects are familiar. After that, they’re going to choose four photographers to stay for fashion week.”

“Nik,” Damen said once. “Nik! This is amazing, this is –” he got up, coming up next to Nik at the window, and smacked him hard in the arm. “Why they hell didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t you want to tell me tonight?”

“I didn’t want to tell you when I was putting it together because I didn’t want it to be a thing. You get intense about anything that could remotely be viewed as a competition and I didn’t want you getting caught up in something that, honestly, I thought had little opportunity to be a success. And then tonight I was just nervous for the call and then it happened, and I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“You didn’t know how to tell me you got offered the opportunity of a lifetime?” Damen asked incredulously.

“No, I didn’t know how to tell you that I’m going to be in Paris for at least a whole month,” Nik said. “I know you can do some of your own stuff, but also most of your ‘stuff’ is you doing shirtless workouts on your story. And while that keeps your followers, you’re a shit photographer and a whole month without new content might be too long. I was going to wait until I could contact a few people who could maybe meet up with you in a few places and be temporary fill-ins for me.”

“Dude,” Damen said, starting to laugh again. He smacked Nik’s shoulder even harder this time. “I don’t know what you’re talking about because I’m not going anywhere without you anytime soon.”

Nik’s eyebrows furrowed close together, wrinkling his forehead and squinting his eyes, and he looked ridiculous. “But it’s going to be an entire month, Damen. I don’t think you’ve stayed in the same place longer than a week since you came down with the flu while we were in Wales.”

“I’ve never had a reason to stay in one place longer than a week. But to miss out on seeing you around a bunch of highbrow models and their high maintenance lives? I’d regret that the rest of my life.”

It was Nik’s turn to smack Damen in the shoulder. His hit was harder than any of Damen’s had been, but Damen didn’t even flinch. He smiled, the smile of a proud brother that just watched his own kin graduate or a father having taught his child to ride a bicycle, and it made Nik turn away from him to hide his own smile.

“Besides, I think Paris has plenty to offer us for a month. I’m all about once in a lifetime opportunities and front row seats at Paris Fashion Week seems like one of those, even if I don’t quite get it. And who knows, Nik,” Damen said, getting Nik’s attention back on him. “It’s the city of lights, the city of love.” He waggled his brows. “Maybe we’ll finally get you a girlfriend and you can stop saying photography is your only love.”

Nik smacked him again.

Surprisingly, Nik fell asleep first just an hour later. It gave Damen time to come down from the wine, to let the chill from the room sober him up, and he laid there, letting his mind wander freely and his eyes get heavy when two far too sobering thoughts hit him at the same time.

Reaching under his own head, Damen pulled at the pillow and flung it with perfect precision so it hit Nik in the face with a resounding thwack, making Nik yelp and snuffle with a startle.

“Wha—?”

“Are we going to Berlin tomorrow or not?” Damen asked. “We never decided.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Nik said, definitely half-asleep and thinking of nothing but falling back to complete-sleep.

“Hey.” Damen threw another pillow with the exact same perfect precision.

“Damen, I swear to god,” Nik grumbled into the pillow that was now on top of his face.

“I’m mad at you.”

“About?”

“You’re doing something our families would consider worthwhile now,” Damen said. “This goes way beyond social media. Now my dad’s going to call me going ‘Why can’t you be more like Nik? Why don’t you have any skills beyond standing for pictures? Why do you insist on shaming the family name?’”

Nik was laughing. “Go to sleep, Damen.”

Damen was laughing too.

#captive prince #damen of akielos #laurent of vere #captive prince fanfiction #capri fic #my writing #mannequin gallery 'verse #the mannequin gallery

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parkeraul · 5 years

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anatomy | oneshot

a/n: i don’t know what it is but i had this stuck in my phone’s notes and i’m going to give it a try lol. i got inspired by a post here on tumblr and another one on twitter (both different, both NOT what you’re thinking they are) and this is like... nerdy!shawn? college!shawn? student!shawn? idk read it to find it out. plus, this is a work of fiction, so the situations named in here aren’t exactly what happens in real life, my dudes. i don’t know if this is how it happens, i’m assuming stuff just to give them an atmosphere. all built up for shawn and reader’s relationship to go somewhere on this imagine. sorry in advance to any medical students lmao.

shawn x reader warnings: cursing, smut (?). words: 7.272

It’s nearly 10pm in a saturday when he knocks on her door with his free hand, holding his book in his other hand kind of nervously. She tiptoes downstairs, quickly knotting the strap around her robe to cover her recent showered body. Her mind goes confused, wondering who might be standing outside at this time. Peeking through the magic eye, she can barely recognise the tall figure standing in front of her door with what she figured out as a backpack hanging on his back and something under his tattooed arm. She wasn’t expecting anyone from college because the finals were still happening and she finally managed to get home after passing hers, so everyone else should probably be stuck in their houses half studying, half praying. When she saw his hand coming up to curl in a fist next to the wooden material, she flicked the keys to the side and made sure to hold the upper part of her robe, pulling the edges together to cover her breasts and collarbone. Opening the door, she meets him wearing a desperate expression on his flushed face. He sighs in relief before putting his shit together. “Shawn? What are you doing here?” She asks smiling insecurely, he doesn’t follow her though. “Thank God you’re home!” He vents and exhales heavily. “I know this is super weird and random, but I honestly don’t know who else to look for. I’m really sorry. God... I shouldn’t-“ “Spit it out, Mendes!” She giggles, opening the door a little bit more to show him somehow that she’s welcoming him. “You know you can count on me to something more than just having my veins available for you to train your blood-removal skills.” She winks and he smiles shyly, remembering how insecure he felt when first asking her to volunteer and be his pair to this class in specific.

They’ve become pretty close, always getting paired for the classes because they knew that they were responsible and worked greatly together – always hitting high grades even in the most difficult subjects. Medical school is hard already, so they’ve found in each other an easier way to go through it all by supporting each other since their class is filled with so many selfish people. Shawn and Y/N were rarely hanging out when not in college – but more than friends, they are also something like partners in crime. Although he had a very serious crush on her at first sight, he kept on doing his best to get rid of the feeling eventually, even though he knows he’s not 100% there, he thinks that he’s seen everything he could and his rational side is working constantly to make him get used to live next to her like a normal person would do (seeing her as a nice classmate who’s there for him, not someone who he wants to trace every single inch and experience his daydreams with). She finds him attractive, she can’t even lie. But she would never make a move considering how reserved he is, fearing that he might reject her right at first and never look at her face again. Things couldn’t get this awkward.

Y/N opens some space for Shawn to step inside her living room and gives him a gentle smile, always reassuring him wordlessly that he can feel comfortable in her presence to ask whatever he wanted to ask – she felt more than glad to solve his doubts, actually.

“I’m sorry for showing up so late and...” He finally sees that she’s wearing nothing but a black cotton robe and her hair is wet, clinging to her back. “Well, s-sorry for interrupting your s-shower, I-“ Shawn facepalms and rubs his forehead, trying to brush his nervousness off and find the right words to say. He doesn’t want to look like a creep. “Mendes, you’re rambling,” She warns him and closes the door, grabbing his stuff for him to have free hands to take off his coat and shoes. Knowing it, Shawn rapidly does it all before putting both hands together to wait for further instructions. “Stop apologising! You know I don’t care about it.” Shawn knows that Y/N doesn’t really give a shit about things that some other people would do. She always says that a body is a body: it’s not an object and that a body and sex should be seen as something natural, not something who demands silly and unnecessary jokes when you look at it. And considering the partnership they’ve been developing, she felt more comfortable to talk to him about these things without stuttering or feeling embarassed. If they wanted to build a professional career, they had to deal with bodies normally.

Maybe this is one of the reasons why they’ve never sat down to spill the tea about their secret little crushes. Shawn is a gentleman, of course, and that’s what keeps him fighting his willing to love on her like he never did with anyone else. He is misunderstanding her words, perhaps. She always talked to him about how much she hates when their classmates started joking and sexualizing human bodies like they were made for nothing more than sex. But that didn’t mean that she’s not into finding out how their touches can melt delightfully, because that’s been currently taking over her imaginations more often than she’d like it to – debating with her own mind how wrong is this, how awful it is of her to imagine Shawn maping her body with those intentions that she wishes her whole class could stop feeding. Maybe she had forgotten to say that, if they’re both agreeing on doing this, if their feelings are matching, then it’d be a whole another story (that she’d love to live intensely, thank you very much). This is such a hot mess.

She trails her way to the kitchen and he follows her before he can miss the sight of her. She points to the big island in the middle of her kitchen for him to sit as she places his book and backpack on top of it. “What’s going on, Shawnie Boy?” She asks while opening her fridge to look for something to eat to offer him. “Thank you for being way too nice, Y/N,” He chuckles to himself, also thanking the universe for crossing their ways. “I couldn’t pass Sally’s latest test and she’s going to eat me alive if I fuck up with the upcoming final exam.” Y/N grabs a box of grape juice to put on top of the island along with some Doritos she found on her cabinet. She thought he might probably want to sink down in unhealthy garbage to calm his damn nerves. “Sally is really unpredictable, isn’t she?” Y/N jokes and also grabs what’s left of her chocolate cake inside the oven to join the other stuff. “What was it about?” “Anatomy,” Shawn says unpleasantly, grabbing the glass that Y/N is giving him so he can pour some juice to himself. “Women’s body kind of anatomy, more specifically. It makes me wanna give up on this damn class.” He opens the box and starts filling his glass with the deep purple liquid. “You actually can’t. This subject is... How do they say? Obligatory.” She says, staring at him and finishing setting the island with tiny plates and forks. “See? I know I should be studying music or whatever doesn’t envolve vulvas and labias.” His tone expresses all of his disappointment. Shawn hates to fail and also hates the whole process of learning from his mistakes. He never allowed himself to fuck it up even though he had no previous knowledge to execute something perfectly for the first time. “Keep thinking like that and you’ll end up seeing your own hand for the rest of your life.” Y/N is effortlessly pushing him over the edge of his stress, but he knew she was only playing around so he pretended not to care that much. He thought of replying her as boldly as she’s doing, but when she leaned forwards a little bit to cut a piece of cake, he accidentally saw her skin underneath the dark fabric – almost getting the view of the swell of her breasts. He swallowed harshly, immediately searching for his book to find the pages that have been driving him insane over the past weeks. ‘It’s fine. This is fine. Everything’s okay.’ He quietly warns his own body. Shawn shakes his head and takes a generous sip of his juice and tries hard to blink and miss the view of her not even noticing what just happened and still trying to cut a perfect square to place on a plate. “I... Mm... Have been reading from page 45 to page 97 over and over again for two weeks straight and-“ He starts with difficulty and, as if it wasn’t hard enough for him now, she’s licking and sucking at her fork she used to set under her piece of cake to lift it up and off the tin while looking him deep in the eyes, waiting for him to conclude his first doubt of the night. She didn’t mean to seduce him on purpose, but if she only knew the way she is messing with his head right now, she’d probably do something much worse.

Shawn feels like cursing all the words he knows out loud.

He’s been managing to keep his first impressions controlled for years. Why is this shit coming up again like he’s seeing her for the first time in his life? His brain, always hungry for coherent answers, figured things out in a matter of seconds. When he understood it all, he came back to earth and denied his own instincts angrily. Hopefully, he would never ever need to explain this reason to anyone else.

“And?” Y/N snaps him back to reality, removing the fork out of her mouth and clicking her tongue to finish the small taste she had from the tiny crumbles that were glued to the steel. “And... I...” He keeps on turning the pages frantically, not wanting to waste time. Who knows that she wouldn’t get him lost between running to the closest bathroom to splash some water on his face and staying frozen in his seat to never get up again until he stops hardening against his sweatpants during this quick lack of words? “I c-couldn’t quite understand and memorize these parts and their functions.” Shawn fixes a single curl back to its place and then he points to the figure on his book. “Really?” She frowns. How a smart and handsome guy like Shawn can’t understand simple explanations about a vagina? “Why have you circled this so many times? You can barely see what it is.” She points to a messy grey sketch. “It’s the clitoris,” Shawn rolls his eyes and clears his throat before moving on. “Need to remind myself that this shit is killing me mercilessly with this stupid amount of nerve endings.” “You wish, Shawn,” Slicing her cake, she jokes and wraps her lips around the fork once again. Shawn can literally feel the palms of his hands sweating and he swears to God he could explode at anytime. Why anatomy of the reproductive system? Why not microbiology or pharmacology? He knew he should be a pro by now. “You better take notes about this little thing in particular if you want to pass or make a girl squirm under you.”

Can she stop? Great. Now he’s picturing it.

“Plus, I can guarantee you that, once you get to find where it is and how it works, you’ll wish you could reciprocate the merciless part everyday.”

This is not study. This is torture. Bad grades and bad thoughts. The “perfect” combo. Shawn gets his notebook and pencils out of his bag and works fast to find a blank page to start writing.

The time flies by with her careful explanations. Y/N might joke a lot with him but she knows when to talk seriously. She’s patient to describe every single detail and say things once more in a different way for him to see it all in a different way. She speaks; he writes and asks again. All happening in a loop and Shawn’s pretty surprised that the chills that were taking over his lower region were gone now. He’s been doing his best by looking down at the paper all the time, refusing to peek at her. “No! Nah-nah-nah...” She says and stretches her arm to grab the eraser next to him. He falls out of his concentration and reacts by traveling his eyes from her fingers to the expansion of her covered arm and finishing at her now exposed collarbone. The scent of her moisturizer escapes her robe to invade his nostrils. He can’t help but inhale deeply as she brings the eraser to rub the words he’d been writing. “What’s that on your clavicle?” Still studying her skin, he asks impulsively. Shit. She looks at him and then down at her own body. “Oh... This?” She sets the fabric to the side a little bit more, now almost showing her entire shoulder. Shawn feels like choking on his own air. “It’s just a little scar. Got it when trying to run away from my cousin once. Nails strong enough to mark me,” She remembers and giggles lowly. “Unfortunately not as cute as this one you have on your face.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit.

She just noticed that she revealed loudly one of her favourite things about him. For the first time in the night, he smiles. He feels his chest burning – still shyly – and she can’t take her eyes off his beautiful teeth, perfectly shaped and getting her missing the patterns of her breathing.

From there, the tension between them seemed to grow more and more and the emotions blooming up from this atmosphere were screaming louder than words, intensifying not only their desires but also the other feelings coming to their surface. It was like throwing alcohol in a bonfire. And it’s certain that the flames were getting higher and higher. They tried to focus one more time on whatever they were doing now (neither of them cared to understand exactly what it was), Shawn a lot more lost than her, already writing things that weren’t even about anatomy, he thought.

“Nope!” She says again. Erase, wipe the dust, explain again.

The clock is ticking.

“Shawn, no.” By now, he was finishing his third glass of grape juice and she had completely given up on her cake. Fork hitting the plate aggressively as she bends over the cold marble to repeat her actions. Shawn rubs his face and runs his fingers through his dark curls. Erase, wipe the dust, explain again.

“Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell are you doing?” If she was patient before, she’s not losing her shit for fucks sake. “Vulva is this external part, not the inside. The internal part is the vagina, down here in this entrance, see?” She’s pointing with his pencil and circling the spots with caution, because otherwise she might rip the page apart. Shawn drops his arms against the island and tilts his head to meet the hard surface, hitting his forehead and his sighs turns into a deep growl.

Erase, wipe the dust.

“God! Have you ever seen a pussy in your life?” He freezes in place and doesn’t get up, hoping she’s going somewhere else with this question. “Seriously! C’mere, I’ve got this kind of a plastic mould and you’ll touch this shit until the information gets inside your head somehow.” She stands in her feet and she knows that she’s being kinda rude. He doesn’t care, he knows he’s not going anywhere if she keeps on being all nice and shit but at the same time he’s so nervous that he wishes he could stay in that kitchen for the rest of his life until his problem goes away. “I don’t really-” His voice comes out muffled by the white marble under his face. “Mendes, you’re coming whether you want it or not!” She grabs his arm and pulls him off his seat. “I told you I’d help you and you know I won’t stop until I get my work done. Come on!” He seizes the last seconds where his face is still hidden to smile. He loves how much she cares about him now and it seems to vanish away all of her impulsive attitudes before. She just wants him to succeed and once she gets a goal inside her mind, she ain’t stopping until she makes it happen. Shawn gives up and she’s practically dragging him upstairs to her bedroom, steps punishing the degrees under her feet.

“Get yourself comfortable, I’m gonna find this thing.” She says as if he even could. Shawn falls in her bed while she turns the lights on and goes to her shelf, eyeing all the spaces where that mould could be hiding into. She tiptoes across her bedroom and checks every part of it like her life depends on it.

Wardrobe? No. Drawers? No. Desk? No. Under the bed? No. Bookshelf? No.

If the bedroom was even larger, she’d be running a marathon across it and the way she’s walking with powerful footsteps and picked up rhythm makes the hem of her robe swing and get loosened, sometimes showing the back of her thighs a little bit more and gradually exposing her chest. And if Shawn felt like dying before, now he’s sure that he’s floating between heaven and hell so quickly that he can’t do anything else but widen his eyes in desperation, fight his own mind and press down on her mattress for dear life. “You can’t think like that. She’s your friend, she’s not a piece of meat. Control your damn hormones.” He whispers to himself and closes his eyes. He doesn’t want her to think that he’s just another one of those stupid classmates of theirs or some kind of a weirdo who acts like he had never seen a semi-naked body before. Although that yes, he had never. Y/N might be cool about talking of sex and stuff, but he managed to just nod and agree. He never told her he was a virgin and something about the way she messes with him so easily makes him feel like organising a whole speech – in the most polite way ever – about how much he wants her to teach him everything: where to touch, how to touch and what to do to have her feeling not only relaxed in his presence but also pleased. If he only had the braveness, he’d be on his knees right now divided between begging for mercy or for a chance.

She closes the last drawer where she guessed the plastic cast could be inside of and turns around with her hands covering her mouth. Shawn looks at her concerned expression and concludes that she’s thinking, considering how fast her eyes are running across the room.

“Y/N, you don’t have to. It’s okay, I can find some other way...” Shawn tries to calm her and she tugs some strands, pulling them back and then dropping her arms down. She can’t think of anything else than this and she knows she might be taking a risk in here. She steps backwards to close her door and it gets Shawn frowning, gasping and blinking rapidly. What the hell is she doing?

If he could’ve only guessed that some dreams can come true sometimes...

“Mendes, don’t freak out, okay?” She looks at him worriedly and his grin is filled with doubts. He thought she was joking about his study routine or whatever happened a few seconds ago. But when he sees that her face ain’t changing to something more playful, he gulps once more. “You’re gonna have to do this in anyways in the final exam and, since you can’t even name things correctly, there’s no other way to do this. Tell me if you don’t wanna do this and I’ll stop.” She finishes and grabs the knot of her robe. In one fluid motion, she undoes it and the black fabric is pooling down around her feet. Right now she’s not thinking about her crush on him, she’s not trying to get him moaning her name. No. She’s trying to get anatomy inside his head because she’s been there before and she knows that, if he touches the wrong places, Sally is definitely not going to give him any other chances. There’s no dirty in here, there’s no seduction. She’s offering to a test just like she offered her veins once; or like when he let her feel his temperature and see if his throat was sore. “What are you doing? Y/N, seriously...” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Cover up, you don’t need to do it for me.” “Is that what you want? I’ll do if you’re feeling awkward on doing this,” She reassures him and catches her robe from the floor. “But I want you to know that I’m okay with it. It’s totally up to you.” Shawn can feel his limbs turning into cold stones and his leg starts to shake uncontrollably. He feels like someone just threw a ball on fire to him and he knows he’s got the opportunity to put the fire down. He just doesn’t know how. “C-Can you... like...” He rubs his face, still not looking at her (who’s covering her front with the robe now) and tries to make a smart decision. “Get under your covers so I... can... t-touch you without looking at you?” “Is this going to make you feel more comfortable?” “Y-Yes.” “I’ll try to guide you then.”

An inconvenient silence takes over the place and it had never been so annoying. He gets up, turning his back to her and she goes under her blanket, trying to feel less unsuited. “Hold on. I’ll wash my hands before... you know...” “Second door to the right.”

A few minutes later, Shawn is back and not so afraid. She looks at him and sees that his hairline is wet, he might probably had splashed some water on his face before returning. “Are you okay?” She asks, feeling her chest heaving in concern. “I’m good,” He closes the door with his foot and keeps his hands in the air, away from any object. “Sure you wanna keep going? You don’t have to-” “I’m sure,” She nods and he sits at the end of the bed. “With that I’m even feeling like a real patient now.” She points at his hands with her chin and chuckles bending her knees. He follows her and giggles too. He can’t even believe how amazing she is, he feels like nothing in this world can gift her enough for being this good to him. “You can, like, start from my pubic bone and then you can say what you remember, you know?” She incentivates him. “When you get to touch those parts we were seeing down in there, you’ll tell me what it is and what is it for.” He nods and she shifts her body up closer to the headboard, making some space for him to come forward and slip one hand under the blanket. “Don’t you want me to wear gloves?” “I’m out of gloves in here but I don’t really mind.” She says and he’s just going with her flow. “Showed you my exams before the tests, so you also know that I don’t have anything you should worry about.” She’s giving him so many reasons to leave his nervousness behind that he’s feeling like he’d forgotten for a moment that, on top of it all, they’re still friends. They’re not strangers. They should count on each other and this is what she wants him to do, this is what he wants her to do. “Go on, I trust you.” Her sweet tone reaches his ears and he smiles at her, so happy to know that she’s there for him and, more than anything else, she sees in him a person that she can trust. It’s just priceless. “And I trust you,” Shawn responds and she smiles back at him, feeling more comfortable against her pillows. “Excuse me.” He asks before touching her and she nods in confirmation, allowing him to go on. Shawn knows that this is not his body, so he must have her approval and excuse to touch her. His palm is softly sliding along the expansion of her shin to her knee and inner thigh, looking her deep in the eyes, attentive to any sign that she’s not liking it so he can stop. He wants to show her that he doesn’t wanna hurt her or do something harmful, so he rubs his thumb from side to side, caressing her and showing that he’s being so careful. She looks at her own ceiling, trying to keep her breathing calm and remain herself that she suggested it, so she must stay true to her pure intentions and leave her dirty thoughts locked and forbidden. He reaches the spot she told him to look for. He stops moving when he gets there and waits for her to give him another permission. “What’re you touching?” She asks. Shawn gets it as a chastise and lifts his hand up, widening his eyes. She slips her arm under the blanket and places it back to where it was, making him gulp and miss a heartbeat. “I’m not asking you to leave, Mendes,” She laughs. “I’m asking you what’s this specific spot you’re touching right now. This is still a test.” His eyes are still wide as ever, comprehending her words and looking for the answer in his mind. “The pubic mound... Okay...” He answers more to himself and tries to remember the words she made him take notes about. “It’s... a fibroadipose tissue that stays on top of the bone and it divides into the labia majora on either side of the pudendal cleft.” “Very good,” She praises and he smiles, actually wanting to scream in happiness for answering correctly and in tension, because her words made his nerves sparkle somehow. ‘Just breathe’ he says to himself as a mantra. “You can feel it if you want to.” The tips of his fingers press lightly against it, choosing random spots to feel and then he lets go of it. He can read about it in the books where his gravity is going to be centered. “Should I keep going?” He asks. “Yes, please.”

Oh God, not please.

Both of them getting a type of disquietude after this word in particular. She didn’t mean to say it, she knows that ‘please’ doesn’t even fit correctly to the moment but somehow it escaped from her lips nearing a state of beg. She couldn’t let him know. This is still forbidden. He swallows harshly and moves down slowly, almost reaching his next stop.

“Okay, stop.” She says and he immediately stays still. “I’m gonna ask you something very embarassing but necessary.” “...Alright?!...” Shawn eyes her with concentration, trying to understand if he did something wrong at any point. “Lick your finger before touching this next spot,” Unable to look him in the eyes, she asks and covers her face. This makes him comfortable to remove his hand and lick his index finger before she can see him doing it. “You shouldn’t do this to your patients, but I’m very sensitive and when it’s all dry it might hurt a little.” “Okay,” He gets back to where he was before and sets his hand back down on her. “Was I here?” “Yup,” She says popping her ‘p’. “You can touch it now.” His touch is now wet and cold, making her shiver slightly and it glides easily. She removes her hands from her face but keeps her eyes shut to focus on not getting wetter than his finger. “Clitoris.” “Nope.” “No?” “Try to remember about the first time I yelled at you downstairs.” “Oh, alright.” He tilts his head down and laughs to himself. His finger is moving so delicately that it’s nearly tickling her heat. She shifts her ankles further just a little so she can see that flushy face of his, eyes now looking up as he tries to find a blank spot where his sight can help his imagination to picture what it looks like as he touches her. “Clitoral foreskin? Clitoral hood?” “Hood is better.” “Fine,” He grins. “It’s a mucocutaneous tissue that covers and protects the clitoris. It can fully cover the clit sometimes, but it also can just partly cover it.” “Thought you’d never get it right, not gonna lie.” She confesses and he moves his pretty greenish eyes to look at her, and she finally reciprocates. “Thought you trusted me!” It’s so good to interact as they typically do. It’s so good to feel more normal and less awkard. The two of them could now feel their bodies relaxing and free to get back to joking and playing. Nothing’s really planned for ages before acting, it’s just natural. This is what they were looking for. His cold calloused finger goes down shortly and she lets a sigh fly from her lips, instantly biting at her bottom one. She writhes sparsely, trying not to do what she’d normally do if they weren’t studying. “Clitoris? Is it here?” “M-hm.” “Erectile nub placed at the top of the vulva. It has around 8.000 nerve endings and blood supply. Would you mind if I see it?” She shakes her head in denial and grabs the cover up to reveal her lower half, making it rest on her stomach. Shawn takes his finger away for a moment to see the little nub and memorize where it is. He thinks he’d never seen something so beautiful in his life; he never thought it’d look this beautiful. Totally compelled, he licks his digit again and touches her clit, differently from before. Now, he’s softly drawing tiny circles around it and she accidentaly moans lowly. The tip of his finger is sliding so deliciously that she couldn’t even notice the time when she showed such weakness. “If you keep doing like this, you’re gonna turn me on and-” “How sensitive is it?” He cuts her off and, to be honest, he wasn’t even listening. All of his concentration got directed to her clit, now swelling under his control. “What?” “How sensitive is it? With so many nerve endings, it must be really delicate. Isn’t it?” She’s not quite understanding. Shouldn’t he know this already? Or was he one of those guys who never finds a clit during sex? “It’s sensitive enough to get me excited,” She warns but it’s not like he’s giving a single damn right now. “But if you press it hard, then it’ll hurt me bad. Like... you can add a little bit more of pressure...” And he immediately does, watching the way his finger works carefully but performing firmly now. She exhales strongly, trying so hard not to lose her shit. “A little bit more...” She demands and he obeys. Where is this going? She can’t answer herself now that this feels so good. His touch rounding her clit, sometimes going from side to side and he takes his time feeling all the extension of it. “Don’t go further than this, otherwise it’ll only harm me.” This amount of pressure was just perfect for her taste. Shawn doesn’t even know about this, but he keeps going and he even leans closer to see it better. Now there was no hell, it was just heaven. Heaven in the way her face contorts everytime he hits the center of her clit; heaven in the way her chest is moving up and down, trying not to lose the pattern of her respiration; heaven in the way her eyes squinted – but no completely – peeking at him with some struggle. He stops eyeing her heat, saving the last information he got from it and looks at her, eyes practically dark. “Let’s move on to-” “Can I put my mouth on it?” Her jaw falls. Such a question she didn’t know she needed to hear today. She knew she wanted to, but never knew she needed it so bad. “Are you asking to eat me out, Mendes?” For a minute there, she thinks she’s dreaming. Dreaming wildly. She promptly supports her body on her elbows and tosses her blanket away from her body. “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry,” It’s like a force pushed him back to earth. He felt so intoxicated by her that his attention flew out to somewhere else. “I’m such a-” “Do it.” “What is it?” “Do it,” She insists. Can’t miss the chance, can’t have him going back now. Not now. “You want it?” He nods kind of desperately. “Then show me what you can do.” She tilts her head to the side and smirks at him. His mouth forms an ‘o’ shape. Jesus Christ, she can get him around her finger so easily that he feels lucky that he was the one to get her around his finger previously. But how is he supposed to do this? He decides to get started by kissing the inner part of her leg, planting wet kisses along her smooth skin and it feels so satisfying to have her skin exposing goosebumps under his touch. He’s getting closer and she sighs so sweetly that he’s hoping he’s doing the right thing. The scent of her is driving him crazy, he can’t wait to know the taste. “I-” He starts that old speech of explanation. He doesn’t want to but he feels like he needs to be honest with her and tell that he’s still a virgin. Lost and anxious to find himself. Find her. “I know. I’ll guide you, don’t you worry about that.” She’s just perfect. There’s no better definition inside his mind right now. He’s the opened book she loves to devour every single page of, absorbing the details and letting herself get immersed. She arranges her body on her bed to give him more space to lay down on his stomach and between her parted legs. When he finishes his trail of wet and hot kisses, she stands in one shoulder as her other arm goes to reach his brown curls that she loves so much. “You can kiss it first,” She directs him. “See what it feels like against your lips and oh,” She moans because he wasted no time on licking his lips and kissing her clit. “G-Get yourself used to it, take your time to adjust yourself, no need to hurry.” But she didn’t really mean that. She does need the hurry, ‘cause she might collapse from this torture at any second. Shawn tries the kissing, doing it from her clit and covering every inch of her lower lips then going back to the smaller ones. Over and over again, until he gets kinda bored. He wants to make her squirm like she said before in the kitchen. He wants to put his daydreams to a proof as quick as possible. “You’re so wet,” He notices and is unaware of the effect it had on her. Her glistening pussy is inviting him and he wants to live in this for the rest of his days. He knows he has no experience, but this time, he doesn’t wait. He sinks his head down on her and his tongue is flattening against her heat to lick a stripe from her entrance to her clit, covering her with his mouth in order not to miss a single inch. And fuck she tastes so fuckin’ good. Nothing compared to his imagination. “Oh my God,” Another moan slips out and she drops her head backwards, gotten my surprise. “That’s it...” He embraces her thighs and her ankles are now resting on his back. His head buries in her pussy and she returns to look at him. It’s the best view in the world. Cheeks flushed and eyes closed, looking so serene and enjoying the taste of her like he never did with anything else. Shawn pulls her hips closer to him, growing hungrier and obsessed with this moment. “Shawn!” She calls out and giggles, thinking that he’s also in the mood to play. Not now. “How hard can I suck you?” He pulls away, not going very far just to breathe and ask her. “Hard enough to show me how bad you want me, not hard like a crazy animal would probably do.” He groans against her heat and frowns in what he thinks it must be suffering. How can she get him so fragile to her? He feels his head spinning and she hasn’t even touched him back yet. “What are you doing to me?” Shawn whispers, thinking out loud. He drags his tongue up and down against her boldly, mixing the wetness of his tongue with her wetness and it’s slow, painfully slow. She tugs his hair when she feels that tingling sensation down on her entrance and it spurs him on to try his first suction. He does, giving her the best job he could do for the first time in his life. “Close your mouth a little and suck harder.” She recommends and he promptly does. His lips are wrapped around her bundle of nerves as he licks her before, tongue gliding in circles and he’s keeping his tongue relaxed, what makes her see stars with this pleasant sensation. It’s so smooth and so tender that she’s afraid she’s going to pass out from the pleasure. He tries sucking for the second time and earns the perfect reaction from her: toes curling, eyes rolling to the back of her head and she gasps, body giving up against the mattress. She feels her clit throbbing and the way he sucks it is pushing her over the edge. It’s wet, it’s warm and so precise. “Fuck Shawn, fuck!” Her lungs are supplicating for air and she makes a good effort to look down at him again – eyeing her through his eyelashes – and, although he’s still finding a way to please her, he knows he’s being good, so he gives her a devilish smile. “Keep doing like this, baby, don’t stop...” That’s it for him. He tries to suck her again. It’s long he’s deliberately repeating series of suctions, having her crying out in her bed and arching her back. He tests it harder and faster and her hands instantly fly to grab his curls. Her moans are gradually turning into frantic screams and she’s trembling. Shawn Mendes never imagined he could get his friend shaking hectically with his mouth on her heat, sucking and licking her with his whole body and soul. His member is so hard inside his sweatpants but he doesn’t care, as long as she’s enjoying it, then he didn’t need something more. And he thinks she looks impossibly prettier with her beautiful lips parted to free her whimpers, sometimes smirking down at him to tease him; hair getting messier than her body quivering and being stopped by his large hands, caressing the sides of her waist and traveling down to the sides of her bum and legs, holding them forcefully so she wouldn’t escape from his touch. “Shawn,” She gulps before moving on, throat dry from moaning uninterruptedly. “Pull away, I’m gonna come.” With her clit gently tugged between his plump red lips, he shakes his head from side to side in denial lazily and it’s a new sensation to her, so so so good that her vision gloes blurry. Shawn just revealed himself not only stubborn in his studies but also in bed, and she’s so eager to dominate him like this... He remembers about all the things they should be studying right now and maps her core to find her entrance with his index finger. Just as she taught him, he licks the digit and thrust it inside of her as soon as he finds it, bringing his mouth back to her clit to suck rapidly as his finger moves slowly. She fights back a loud scream, covering her mouth as she feels her pussy aching deliciously, searching for its release. “Can you take two?” Shawn feels her walls squeezing his finger and doubts that she can keep another one. “Yes, please.” She says through gritted teeth and it’s good to give this word the real meaning she wanted to give before. He pushes another finger into her and she moans once more, she doesn′t know how long she can wait. He thrusts the fingers so gingerly, not sure about what to do and what pace to pick. Was he hurting her? “You’re so tight...” He comments so innocently, he thought that it wouldn’t be this constricted. He starts to imagine how heavenly his cock would feel hugged by her dripping pussy. “Mendes,” She says under her breath. “I need you to go faster.” “Like this?” He picks up his rhythm shyly. “More.” His digits are covered in her juices and moving with ease. She feels that knot on her stomach tightening and about to explode. “More.” She begs and broken sobs are slipping past her lips. He goes deeper, fingers completely disappearing inside of her. “Right there! Oh, right there,” He finds her spot and her eyes roll to the back of her head once more, making Shawn dig the nails of his free hand into the skin of her thigh and suck at her bundle of nerves as fast as his fingers are working now. “Do it like this.” She can’t raise her hand right now to show due to her weakness but Shawn’s eyes are quick to find her fingers moving in a ‘come here’ motion and he immediately gives it to her. He can’t comprehend exactly where he’s taking her, but when she stops moaning and her legs starts shaking, he understands it. She’s feeling every inch of her core pulsating as her orgasm washes over her body and he can’t believe he just made her come. His fingers are slowing down and he pulls his mouth away, looking at her body coming down of her high. He removes his fingers slow and carefully and gives one last lick, catching what she released, and one last suck, her back arching for the last time. He waits for her to settle down and get back to her senses before doing anything else. And when she does, she glances at him and silently invites him to come closer. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” She taps his strong chest as he crawls over her, knees supported by the mattress under her parted thighs and upper half covering her front. He must be kidding. “Not really...” He vents, embarassed but glad that he provided her something nice. “But did... Did this just ruin what we have?” “I honestly couldn’t care less if it did,” She spits out and he fears her next words. “I couldn’t fucking wait to have you like this since the very first day we spoke.” “Would it be weird if I told you I feel the same way?” “Nope. But that’s something you can save for later,” She pulls him by the shirt and pecks his lips, savouring the taste of herself on his lips. “I wanna make you feel good first. What do you think about that?” “Glad you finally asked.”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfics #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes blurbs #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes masterlist #mine #ficsofmine #I NEED HOLY WATER AND I KNOW IT

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heartofsnark · 4 years

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Black Market Wonderland (Chapter Eight): Here Comes The Sun

Notes: After 9000000000 Years Tsuneko returns, sorry for the break, I’d say it won’t happen again but it will. I know me, sometimes I try to write and my brain says no, you won’t be doing that. Plus, grad school and internship and everything else that is life. I have three chapters written, including this and I also have a new series I’ve been working on. So, i promise Snarky is writing.

Word Count: 11, 621

Warnings: Angst (is that even a warning here, like everything is sad man), mamo is a gross man who eats garbage, lying and cursing?

Missed the last chapter? Link Here!

She saw the man beneath the Mad Hatter costume. For just the briefest second, she saw him. There and gone within a blink of an eye. She could almost convince herself that it didn’t happen, that it was a shadow or a weird flicker of light, she’s tired and seeing things, but she knows better. Any hope of reforming that odd connection they had before has been dashed now that she’s seen the human beneath the costume.

One look at his panic-stricken expression and she can’t see him as anything other than painfully human. He may still be disconnected from her life and the world outside of Wonderland, but he’s not as far removed from reality as she once thought.

And that’s for the best. Seeing him as anything less was wrong, she knows that.

But, what does she do now?

She drums her fingers along the box of pastries, biting her lip, trying to figure out her next step. He doesn’t seem fond of the idea of her seeing him like this, he ran away for god’s sake. Following along with it would be easy, write a note, put the cupcakes down and pretend she never saw him.

Is that for the best, though?

Hiding away from reality, from everyone, and hiding behind a character. That’s not healthy. It can’t be. Granted, Tsuneko is far from the authority on mental health and maybe she’s in no place to help anyone else, but…

Ignoring would be bad, she’s saying ignoring is bad.

Being delicate isn’t her strong suit, her approach to life is more akin to a bull in a china shop. But, ambushing the Hatter with reality doesn’t strike her as the greatest idea. He seems fragile, to say the least, the proverbial china she’s trying not to break.

She strengthens her resolve with a deep breath and takes the few steps towards his bedroom door, knocking on it. There’s a small sound of rustling, like he’s panicking. Tsuneko chews her lip for a moment before she speaks.

“Hey…are you a friend of the Hatter?’

She gives him an out. It’s not avoiding it, but she’s giving him a chance. He has the choice, play along or tell the truth. She’ll meet him where he’s at. The door opens just a small crack and heat floods her face and a small noise of exclamation catches in her throat as she gets a second good look at the Hatter.

He’s adorable. Ridiculously so. Big dark doe eyes that widen at the sight of her. Thick glossy black hair just starting to dry. His facial features are soft and delicate for a man, his skin is not as ghostly white as the Hatter costume, but he’s pale enough that she can see a few faint traces of blue veins.

“I’m…a friend of the Hatter,” he finally says, the voice is the same but softer. The flamboyance and vigor of the Hatter has been replaced by shyness and uncertainty.

A part of her is disappointed that he takes the out. But patience is a virtue that she desperately needs to work on. Considering how it wasn’t that long ago that she was yelling at him, she can’t be shocked that he’s not ready to be vulnerable with her.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she offers, but he doesn’t seem any more comfortable, he seems desperate to hide back in the bedroom.

His eyes shift downward to the side, not meeting her gaze for a moment longer. For a moment his mouth gapes open, but no words come out, stuck in his throat despite how clear it is he has something he wants to say. A soft bite to his lip before his whisper of a voice meets her ears again.

“What…what are you doing here?”

There’s a tremble to his voice and she wonders for a moment if this is normal for him, or if her tirade from before has made him more fearful of her.

“Oh, uh, I actually wanted to talk to the Hatter…to apologize. I, kinda snapped at him the other day and said a lot of stuff I didn’t mean to.”

“Oh…”

“I, uh, brought lemon chiffon cupcakes for him, figured might make him feel better. I’m, uh sure, he wouldn’t mind if you had some, if you want ‘em.”

She’s rambling. She knows she’s rambling, why isn’t her mouth stopping, who made her like this?

“I mean, I don’t know if you two have the same taste or whatever, but who doesn’t like cupcakes, so-”

“I’ll….,” his whisper makes her shut up, “let him know you stopped by.”

“Okay, uh, I’ll leave the cupcakes on the table, for whoever wants them.”

The hint of a soft smile pulls at his lips and it feels like she’s seen a new plushie, every fiber of her being screaming at her to hug him and coo over how cute he is.

“Night, Alice…”

His whispers again, before shutting the door. She takes a deep breath and puts the cupcakes out on the table, this isn’t exactly how she wanted this to go. But, given the situation, she’s not sure what else she can do.

A more proper talk or apology would have eased the tension tight in her chest. The cool air does nothing to soothe her as she makes her way back to her dorm. It’s late and the dormitory is desolate, it seems like by the time she returns every night the building has become a ghost town.

Since she’s been working at the hotel, her only constant companion has been Kiyo, which is her own fault. She’s kept people at a distance. The Hatter has locked himself alone in Wonderland with just Cheshire to stave away loneliness. Maybe that’s why she wants to help him. She keeps telling herself time and time again that she needs to get her shit together, but then something sends her spiraling right back to that dark place.

Within the same week, she went from being determined to get out of this and get her life back on track to questioning if she should end it all within less than a week. It’s erratic. She’s stuck in her own head and destroying herself.

She lets Kiyo free roam while she grabs a shower. The hot water and steam help clear her mind, letting her relax for a moment. Her mind continuously drifts to the situation of everything. Both with the Hatter, the penthouse guests, and what comes after all of this.

A part of her wants to help the Hatter, another part of her thinks she can’t help anyone if she’s a mess herself. A part of her wants to get back into University, another part of her says it’s not worth it, just wants to end everything.

Her emotions and thoughts are constantly ricocheting and contradicting each other, she can’t seem to get a handle on what she actually wants or needs to do.

The water runs cold and she forces herself out from under it. The air is cold on her skin and she groans, running a hand over her face.

She might have been content with being a maid, the job and benefits itself are fine, but with the auctions she wants as far away from the hotel as possible.

Helping the Hatter would be nice, but she can’t. It’s not her place nor her job. Her life is in shambles, she’s in no place to play savior. Helping with a robbery is one thing, addressing his mental health is too much. She can’t get involved.

But, if she wins the bet, what does she want? Logically, she knows suicide is no answer. She knows that she doesn’t really want to die, but she can’t help thinking it’s better for everyone.

Tsuneko dries off and pulls on pajamas before leaving the bathroom. Falling back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Every time she thinks of what she wants, her brain drifts back to one childish answer.

She wants to go home. Kyushu, back to her childhood home, not dorm rooms in Tokyo. She wants a hug from her dad. But, he doesn’t know about her expulsion. He thinks she’s still in school, working on her degree. She’s avoiding talking to him for almost a year now, because she doesn’t want to tell him. Doesn’t want to disappoint him.

So much of her childhood, she talked about getting out of there, being a child, he could be proud of and she failed. Then she lied about it. Why would he want anything to do with her? She’s took her shot and missed. Now, she wants to go running back home to her dad. It’s pathetic, what if he doesn’t want anything to do with her.

Despite her ignoring, he still calls and leaves voicemails regularly, she just doesn’t answer. She’ll shoot quick texts about being busy with school, enough that he knows she’s not dead. He’s so proud of her for working so hard. If he doesn’t know, she keeps that. But, if she tells him the truth, she risks losing it, losing him. What if he hates her for it?

What is he going to tell people? His daughter who went off to become some hotshot lawyer cleans bathrooms for a living now. He’d be just as embarrassed as she is, he’d never want to talk to her again.

But is this any better?

She doesn’t know when tears started, hot and wet on her cheeks. It’s not the panicky sobs she’s had lately, a soft quiet sort of melancholy. She scrubs a hand over her eyes.

She’s been afraid of losing her dad, but she’s basically already lost him if she’s cutting him off. Hasn’t she?

There’s a tug on her hand where it hangs over the bed, Kiyo’s teeth wrapped around her fingers. Not enough to break skin or hurt, he squirms backwards trying to steal her away from her thoughts.

“What are you doing, baby boy?”

She lets him lead her by the finger, having to hunch over to do so. Kiyo takes her to his little stash of toys. It’s a mish mash of toys bought specifically for him and stuffed animals he’s decided are now his, plus whatever he’s stolen.

“Yes, I know, I got you- are those my socks?”

He excitedly let’s go of her hand to show his new toy, a pair of her socks.

“Not only are you a thief, you’re stupid enough to show me what you stole? Really, Kiyo, are you that proud of yourself?”

She makes a grab to get the socks out of his mouth, but he promptly runs off with them. Eyes still rimmed red with tears, she laughs and chases after him. Peals of laughter and Kiyo’s dooking noises fill the dorm as she runs after him. After nearly knocking into her dresser, she manages to scoop him up in her arms. He lets go of her socks and snuggles against her. Her fingers scratch over his fur as she sits down on her bed.

“You’re sick of seeing your mommy cry, aren’t you baby?”

She holds him out in front of her, he makes a soft noise and she considers that a confirmation.

“Well, I’m done throwing a pity party. If I have time to cry about it, I have time to do something about it. I’m gonna win the bet, then I’m biting the bullet and coming clean about everything to my dad. Then I’m gonna get to work to actually change my life.”

He makes an excited dooking noise, the sound of it strengthens her resolve even more.

“I’ll go in early tomorrow, to ask Kenzaki about looking at security footage, get the information from the Hatter, and have a proper talk. I’m not gonna get too involved, but I’m not gonna keep anymore distance than normal.”

Kiyo yawns, tongue sticking out of his mouth when he closes it again. His eyes are starting to drift shut.

“Okay, time for bed then, good talk.”

Tsuneko smooches the top of his head then gets him settled in for the night. She reads over the auction items again and paints her nails. The sparkly red polish is replaced with a deep dark indigo. She’s managed to clear her head a bit more before she finally goes to sleep.

Having caught her second wind, Tsuneko walks with confidence into the Tres Spades. It’s early morning, even earlier than usual, but she doesn’t sleep much. There’s not a lot if activity in the lobby at this hour and Kenzaki is at the check in desk.

“You’re here early, Tomori,” Kenzaki comments with his usual serene expression.

“Yeah, I was actually hoping to help out with the guest in the tea room, is there anyway I could look at the security footage for the back lot?”

“That shouldn’t be necessary anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Security isn’t something you need to concern yourself with, Tomori.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’ve never had an issue with safety here,” she grumbles under her breath and turns to leave.

“Actually, there was something I needed to speak with you about as well.”

“Hm?”

“Do you remember the Renard family?”

“Yeah, they were here a month or two ago, right?” Tsuneko nods, the little girl Anais ended up clinging to Tsuneko’s side for a good portion of her stay since her parents were busy.

“Yes, they checked in late last night. It appears you made quite an impression on their daughter, they’re requesting you attend to their room and watch over her during their stay.”

“Aren’t they VIP guests?” Tsuneko raises an eyebrow, VIP’s are specifically Erika and the twin’s responsibility.

“Yes, which is why it’s important to fulfil their request.”

“Fine by me.”

Unlike the penthouse maid, this is something she’s actually earned, and Erika isn’t going to ruin it for her.

“Please meet with them in the lobby at the beginning of your shift.”

“Understood.”

With that Tsuneko starts to walk down to Wonderland. Hopefully, the Hatter has had a chance to write down what she asked of him. There should logically be a list of people who’ve participated in the auction and what they’ve sold, assuming Ichinomiya isn’t running a disorganized shit show. If the Hatter remembers what the March Hare and Dormouse were carrying or even what date it was, she could ask one of the penthouse residents to check it against the list of participants. It’s a long shot, but since Kenzaki won’t let her look at security footage, it’s her best bet.

She takes the stairs down two at a time, her steps echoing. As she’s nearing the bottom, she realizes her steps aren’t the only ones ringing out. Along with shuffling and muffled talking. Anxiety creeps up her spine and settles in the back of her mind. Did those men come back? Who else is down here? Her pace quickens and she jumps the last few steps, her feet hitting the concrete with a heavy noise.

Two men are packing a familiar bronze statue, they pause and shoot her confused looks. She never saw the Dormouse and March Hare out of costume, but it would be odd to return the items they’ve stolen. The strangers shake their heads and pack the statue into Wonderland, the door open for them. She trails in after them, there’s even more men she doesn’t recognize in Wonderland, all packing items that belong to the Hatter. Her eyes narrow, what is happening?

“Excuse me, Miss.” Someone says behind her, carrying what looks like a broken globe, and she moves out of his way and utters an apology. At least they’re polite, whoever they are. Though, some of them certainly look terrifying.

“Alice~! Good morning!”

The Hatter’s sing song voice rings out over all other noise, he’s back in costume, no signs of the shy young man she spoke to last night. Tsuneko avoids the men moving items, making her way to the costumed man.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“Isn’t it wonderful? All my treasures are being returned~!”

“That’s fantastic, but how…?”

It had to be the penthouse guys, there’s no other explanation. But they didn’t seem to care about it yesterday. Did she manage to get through to Ichinomiya? That seems…unlikely, no, impossible. Tsuneko is stubborn and annoying, but even she’s not strong enough to get through Ichinomiya’s impenetrable wall of bullshit.

“I’m so happy, Alice~!”

“I’m glad, I know it’s been a rough couple days for you,” she murmurs, scratching at the back of her neck.

His expressions fall, like he suddenly remembers the fight. Perhaps he was caught up in the moment. He won’t meet her eyes, instead staring at a random spot on the ground like it’s the single most interesting thing in the world.

“I’m really sorry about the way I snapped at you, I said a lot of mean things and you didn’t deserve that…” Tsuneko murmurs, why are apologies so hard, “I know it doesn’t make it okay, but I was just in a shitty place, then you came in and started calling me ugly, and I just, I don’t know, got pissed.”

“Called you ugly? I would never.” He looks up at her like she’s just scalded him.

“What do you mean?”

“I said your tears are ugly, not you…I don’t like seeing you cry. Tears and pain are ugly things, so I want you to be happy, especially in Wonderland with me…”

A soft look comes over his face and guilt pangs in her chest, this whole thing was a misunderstanding. She snapped at him over nothing, Tsuneko has always been the type to go for the jugular, to cut people down at the slightest sign of cruelty. It’s not healthy, but she’s never managed to stop it.

“For someone who stresses the importance of words, you’re not the best communicator, huh?”

She flashes him a soft smile and hopes it gets everything across. That aching desire to just forget it all and move on like it never happened. Tsuneko fiddles with a lock of hair, waiting for his response.

“Maybe not, it seems I hurt you, I’m sorry, A-” His words dye in his throat and she can slowly see him acting more like the shy boy from last night.

“You can call me Alice; I didn’t mean that.” In all honesty the only thing she genuinely is hurt about in the long run is the being sold stuff, the Hatter’s complacency in that. But, unlike the penthouse guests, he didn’t buy her and isn’t holding her to the arrangement. So, if nothing else, he remains the lesser of evils and she’d rather keep their relationship civil.

“Really?” He smiles bright and some of the guilt that’s eaten its way into her chest fades away.

“Really. Now, I have to go get ready for my shift, but we’ll hang again soon, celebrate your stuff being returned, I promise.”

She touches his back for a moment in what she hopes is a reassuring gesture, before they say their byes. There’s a bit of time before her actual shift, but she wants to talk to the penthouse guys about what happened with the Hatter’s things. Tsuneko walks about the men, feeling a twinge at guilt at not offering help, before making her way up the stairs.

The elevator ride is spent fiddling with her phone, playing Monster Lovers, her crane game, and checking social media. Just finding idle things to pass the time through the long elevator ride, it seems to take forever given the sheer height of the hotel. She tries not to pout when she sees that Shinobu still hasn’t bothered to message her back.

She’s scrolling through Instagram with one hand and fiddling with the good luck charm in her pocket with the other when the elevator comes to a stop. Tsuneko tucks her phone away and heads to the lounge, seeing the group of men in their usual spots.

“You’re here early, Princess.” To the shock of no one, Baba is the first person to greet her.

“Yeah, I wanted to check on the Hatter, all his stuff was found?”

“Ugh, I heard enough about that freak last night,” Kisaki grumbles.

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black, now isn’t it?”

“Are you seriously comparing me to him?” Kisaki narrows his eyes and scoffs in disgust.

“Yeah, that’s not fair to the Hatter.”

“Sor and Mamo were working all night to get Maddie’s stuff back.”

“Really?”

“He’s being dramatic, as usual, it didn’t take that long,” Oh cuts in, not bothering to look at Tsuneko, “the slacker managed to get their plate number from security footage and with the information the Hatter wrote down we were able to get a name.”

“It still must have taken most of the night, I mean you probably didn’t even start looking into it until late.”

Smirks play across Oh, Baba, and Kisaki’s lips, like there’s something they know that she doesn’t. Dread pits in her stomach and she finds herself looking over at Ichinomiya, the only one who isn’t currently smirking like a wiseass, unless you count the sleeping Kishi. Instead of a smirk, Ichinomiya is scowling, and she can’t help remembering him covered in cupcake frosting.

“Boss told them to start looking right after we left the tea room,” Baba tells her and she clenches her jaw, he was having them help the Hatter the entire evening. If she had known that she never would have thrown her little tantrum, probably. Seems like lashing out when she didn’t have all the information was the theme of yesterday.

“He made sure to help your boyfriend as soon as possible,” Kisaki teases and she resists the urge to kick him.

“Fuck off,” she groans out instead, rolling her eyes before directing her attention to Ichinomiya, “so…. I guess I probably might owe you an apology for the cupcakes thing, huh?”

“That suit costs more than you make in a year.”

“Well, who’s fault is that, boss.”

He narrows his eyes at her, glare intense, while the rest of the men snicker. She meets his glare, this is mostly his fault anyway, he could have just said they were looking into it. If he had just told her, everything would have been fine, probably.

“Was that your attempt at an apology?”

“Yeah, but then you went and ruined it,” she crosses her arms over her chest and pouts, “besides, this isn’t all my fault.”

“Is that so?”

“Literally all you had to do was tell me you were having it taken care of.”

“I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“Would have saved your suit, though.”

“Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going, asshole.”

She leaves them to snicker and cackle at Ichinomiya like hyenas. Tsuneko spends the elevator ride back down to the main floor reviewing photos she took of the auction item list, reviewing it for what feels like the thousandth time. Overall, she’s on cloud nine, compare to the past couple days. Her issues with the Hatter are resolved, as well as him getting his stuff back. She has a clearer idea of what she wants, how she’s going to move on from this whole ordeal if she gets the chance. With being asked to look after Anais today, she’s getting something resembling a promotion she’s actually earned. And, moreover, this is officially the seventh day of the bet.

By midnight tonight, she’ll be halfway through and if anything, she’s proven to Ichinomiya why she’s a detriment. She’s thrown cupcakes at him, for god’s sake. Tsuneko’s done nothing of value that’s unique to her. A part of her is just waiting for him to tell her she’s not worth the headache, just let her go, but he’s the stubborn type, sadly. But, she’s feeling good about her odds of winning in the moment. If nothing else, she’s in a significantly better headspace. For the first time in a long time, she feels like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Just the tiniest iota of hope.

The female locker room is empty when she arrives, and she goes through the routine of changing. Slowly a few other coworkers trickle in Chisato is the first of her two friends, the older maid gives Tsuneko a soft smile before speaking.

“You look like you’re in a better mood.”

“I am, thanks again for, uh, baby sitting my drunk ass. I promise it won’t happen again,” Tsuneko tells her, making a note to lock the door next time she drinks.

“It’s fine, you were pretty entertaining.” A smirk pulls at Chisato’s lips and heat crawls up Tsuneko’s face.

“Yeah, I uh, owe Sakiko an apology.” Tsuneko scratches at the back of her neck, she’s fucked up a lot in the last couple days.

“Speak of the devil.”

Sakiko enters the locker and fast walks to her locker, not stopping to make eye contact with either of the maids. Despite no one saying anything to her, a blush is already creeping up her cheeks.

“Hey…sorry about the whole, uh, drunk thing.” The blushing is contagious, her face feels like it’s on fire.

“Let’s not talk about that, it’s fine, let’s just move on.”

“I didn’t know you got like that when you drink,” Chisato says, not letting them move on.

“Everyone acts weird when they’re drunk, shut up.”

“What’s that saying, in wine there’s truth, maybe deep down you just really like making out with people.”

“Shut up!”

Tsuneko’s face flushes cherry red as she shoves Chisato, barely jostling the older maid. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, but Tsuneko thought it was just a fluke. Maybe, drunk Tsuneko is just a kissing machine. Chisato and Sakiko laugh at Tsuneko, making her face flush brighter.

“She’s so violent,” Sakiko teases.

“I’m not violent!” She yells violently swinging her fists at nothing in particular.

Once they’re all dressed and ready for their respective jobs, they leave the locker room, Chisato and Sakiko still laughing at Tsuneko’s expense. They drift into the lobby, a steady slow thrum of activity there. She needs to wait on the Renard family to drop off Anais and give Tsuneko her schedule.

“Hey! What’s the meaning of this!?” Erika screeches as she marches across the lobby towards them, stopping in front of Tsuneko with the twins behind her.

“What the meaning of this?”

“Good morning to you too.”

“What is this about you watching the Renard’s daughter?”

“I’m watching their daughter; you literally said all the things that need to be said about it.”

“They’re VIP’s, you have no right to be working with them.”

“No right!”

“I mean they specifically requested me, so…”

“What kind of stunts are you pulling for this to keep happening?!”

“I’m just doing my job, what’s up your ass?”

“First it’s the penthouse position and now you’re stealing VIP’s from me, that’s what’s ‘up my ass’,” Erika bitches and pulls out air quotes at the end.

“You’re the one who said I shouldn’t throw away opportunities, right?”

“I didn’t mean steal them from me!”

“It’s not my fault you scare children.”

“I do not scare children!”

“You screech like a demon and hang out with The Shining twins; no kid wants to deal with that.”

“What’s going on here?” Kuroba is the one to cut in, where Kenzaki is, Tsuneko’s not sure.

“I was just saying that with her new position, Tomori might be too busy to watch over the Renard family’s daughter.”

“I’m sure she’ll be able to handle it.” Kuroba flashes a soft smile at Erika and puts a hand on Tsuneko’s shoulder as a sign of solidarity.

“I can always take some of her rooms, if she needs it,” Chisato chimes in.

“Well, I’m happy to see it’s under control then.” Erika forces a smile before storming off, the twins scrambling to follow after her.

“Why is she always on your case, I swear to god,” Sakiko complains.

“Like, I know.”

“I know, but nobody listens to me.” That earns Chisato a glare from Tsuneko, is she still thinking Erika has some sort of crush? It’s ridiculous.

“You’re one of the few people who talk back to her,” Kuroba adds his two cents.

“And it makes her want to smooch you,” Chisato grumbles.

“Huh?”

“Don’t worry about it!” she pushes at Kuroba’s shoulder flustered that Chisato will push her inane ideas on him, “thanks for the help, we’ll talk later okay.”

Chisato and Sakiko find her frazzled goodbyes hilarious, because everyone loves mocking Tsuneko.

“Can you two chuckle fu-Ah!”

“Tsuneko!” A soft French accented voice rings out as Anais nearly topples her over with a hug, a blur of white blonde hair. She laughs and scoops the girl up, spinning her and making her giggle before putting her back down.

“How are you sweetie?”

Anais is adorable, around seven years old with bright blue eyes and white blonde hair pulled into a little ponytail. Tsuneko fights a pout when she realizes the child isn’t even a full foot shorter than her

“We’ll leave you to it,” Chisato calls out before her and Sakiko go on their way.

“Mommy and daddy took me to the Pompompurin café, look at what I got!”

She holds out a keychain that has a little plush of the yellow dog character. On their last stay at the hotel Anais fell in love with Tsuneko’s cute stationary, so she made sure to recommend the family visit the cute Sanrio themed restaurant.

“That’s so cute, so is Pompompurin your favorite?”

“Yes! I love him, my mommy even let me get the big sundae with his face.”

“That’s awesome, the desserts there are so good.”

“Anais was in heaven, thank you so much for recommending it,” a woman’s voice thanks Tsuneko and she looks up to see Esme and Julien, Anai’s parents.

Tsuneko doesn’t keep up much with the rich and famous, but Sakiko was determined to give her an unwanted crash course on the family last time. Julien is an older man, perhaps too old to have a seven-year-old daughter and a young wife, with graying hair in a simple conservative suit. He owns a publishing company, that’s pumped out a few bestsellers.

Esme is glitzier, long white blonde hair curling over her shoulders and makeup that brings out the blue of her eyes. She’s an actress and former model, who started her own modeling agency at the age of 30. As such the two are often traveling with their daughter, for scouting authors and models for their respective jobs as well as Esme’s acting.

“I’m glad she enjoyed it, I know a few other spots she might like, actually I think Puroland is having a show this weekend with special ticket deals,” she suggest the Sanrio themed amusement park, it has an array of restaurants and rides, along with parades and shows.

Anai’s eyes go wide and she looks at her parents in excitement, not asking, but her plea is clear.

“Can you write down the times and where it is for us? I’m sure we can manage a day off,” Julien offers and ruffles his daughter’s hair.

“No problem, I’ll make a note of it for you.”

“Thank you so much for watching her, I know it’s a lot to ask, we have a schedule for her. Just take her back our room when it’s time for her lessons and for meals, so we can all eat together, then her bedtime of course,” she explains as she hands Tsuneko a neat little schedule of when Anais needs to be back at their room.

Esme and Julien are busy, but they always ensure they can eat lunch and dinner with their daughter. Despite not always being able to spend much time with her and taking Anais all across the country, the couple does make a genuine effort to always spend at least some time with their daughter. Busy rich parents are something she’s seen time and time again since she’s started working at the Tres Spades. Many just leave their children at the hotel while they work, then spend the rest of the time in the casino neglecting their children in a new way. It’s refreshing to see parents who try to make that effort.

“That’s fantastic, since I need to clean the penthouse.” Tsuneko has no desire to bring the little girl anywhere near the penthouse or its residents.

“You’ve been promoted?” Julien raises an eyebrow, they’re well aware that she hasn’t been with the hotel long in the grand scheme of things.

“They must really want to keep you around here,” Esme beams.

“You have no idea.”

The couple gives Anais hugs and kisses, before asking her to behave then leaving for work. A soft pout pulls at the girl’s features as she watches her parents leave, even with them making an effort, she must still wish they could spend more time with her. Tsuneko gently pokes at Anais’s cheek, earning her a half-hearted glare.

“You’re gonna be my little helper today, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you have to smile,” Tsuneko points at her own soft smile, “it makes everyone else around you feel better and you’ll feel better too.”

Anais tries to smile wide, but because she’s trying t0o hard, it looks awkward. As if her cheeks are being unnaturally stretched, Tsuneko can help but laugh, making the girl pout again.

“Don’t laugh,” she whines as Tsuneko gets a small candy from her pocket.

“This might help you.”

The girl takes the little strawberry candy and eagerly pops it into her mouth, a genuine smile now stretched across her face.

“Much better, now let’s get to work.” Tsuneko types alarms into her phone for each time Anais needs to be returned to her parent’s room, before taking the girl with her to get a cleaning cart.

Anais steps on the edge of the cleaning cart, riding along as Tsuneko pushes it, giggling when she makes it move quicker. Since other than the penthouse, it’s the only room out of her way, Tsuneko takes them to the Renard’s VIP room to clean first. Anais is eager to help, even with the most mundane tasks, the Tres Spades doesn’t offer much for children, even cleaning is entertainment.

Tsuneko makes sure to do the more arduous or grosser tasks, such as cleaning the bathroom. She’s watching Anais, not traumatizing her. The Renard’s room isn’t bad by any stretch, but she knows once they get to normal guests’ room and later in the day, the rooms will get progressively more difficult.

They’re working in the third regular guests’ room when Tsuneko needs to leave a note, they’re out and she’s left a stack of brochures they’ve requested. She gets out a pad of bunny shaped notes and a pen, Anais’s eyes sparkle at the stationary and the sight makes Tsuneko smile.

“Anais, you can write in English, can’t you?”

“Yeah, I have neat handwriting too.”

“Great, can you just write out, ‘The brochures you requested, hope you find something that catches your eye’ on here?”

“Yeah,” Anais agrees and neatly writes the note, her handwriting clear and easy to understand. Tsuneko takes a moment to try to doodle little spades around the words.

“What are those?”

“They’re little spades, like the Tres Spades.”

“They look like deformed hearts.”

“Well, who asked you,” Tsuneko sputters, cheeks red.

“Why is the note in English?”

“English is the guest’s first language, so leaving notes in English and speaking to them in their native language helps them feel more at home while they stay here.”

“You can write and speak in English?”

Tsuneko works as Anais bounces around to follow her, filled with questions. She can’t help giggling at the young girl’s excitement.

“I’m good at writing in English and can speak it alright, thanks to school, I bet you know lots of languages, since you travel so much.”

“I know French, Japanese, English, Italian, Spanish, Russian, and I’m learning Mandarin.”

A cough sputters out of Tsuneko’s mouth and she can’t help blinking at the child, six languages and working on the seventh. She assumed her parent’s status could afford Anais a fantastic education despite the frequent travels, but that seems unreal. A seven year old is more accomplished than her, fuck.

“That’s impressive, I only know Japanese, English, and JSL.”

“JSL?”

“Japanese sign language, it’s talking with your hands, it’s used by people who can’t hear.”

“Oooh, that’s really cool.”

“Yeah, um, for example this means, my name is Tsuneko,” she recalls the old college course and signs an introduction, to the delight of Anais.

“Woah, I wanna learn!”

“Okay, you’re here for around a week, right?”

Anais nods her head, ponytail bobbing with the quick motion.

“Well, I’ll try to teach you some JSL, if you teach me some languages you know too, enough to greet guests and talk a bit to them.”

“Yeah, I can do that!”

“Sounds like a deal.”

Tsuneko has language books and sometimes tries to use google translate, but guests have told her it can be a little rough. They usually appreciate the effort, but Tsuneko has always wanted to learn more and doing it while she works with the Anais will save time.

Her phone goes off, the first alarm to return Anais back to the room for lessons and lunch. Anais has taught her some basic greetings in French and Italian, though her pronunciation is rough, meanwhile Tsuneko has taught her a few yubimoji signs. She takes Anais up to her parents’ room and gives a less than stellar goodbye in French.

Between lessons and her eating lunch, Tsuneko has around two or three hours before she needs to come back and get Anais. That should be enough time to clean up the penthouse and maybe grab something to eat, but she might have to eat late.

She spends the elevator ride up reciting what Anais taught her; she’d look crazy if anyone else was around. Tsuneko feels like she has the greeting understood and her pronunciation at least marginally better.

Walking into the lounge, Tsuneko knows she made the right decision not to drag poor Anais up here. Oh and Ichinomiya are gone this time around, but Kisaki, Baba, and Kishi have made an absolute mess. Poker chips and cards are strewn about, liquor bottles despite it not even being noon, and overflowing ashtrays. Baba and Kisaki are playing cards, while Kishi is sitting up on a couch, puffing on a cigarette. She considers it a miracle anytime she sees him and he’s not napping.

She pinches the bridge of her nose and resists the urge to groan, walking into the lounge feels like stepping into a chimney thanks to Kishi. Even with how large the room is, his presence seems downright noxious, like he sweats cigarette smoke.

“Hey, pretty lady.”

“You don’t need to talk to me every time I enter the room.”

“As if I could ever resist talking to a beautiful woman when I see one.”

“You see a beautiful woman somewhere, Kishi?”

“Just you two jackasses and a kid.”

“I’m gonna open the window and get some of the smoke smell out of here.”

“Might as well just ask Kishi to leave.”

“Hey, it’s not that bad.”

Tsuneko continues to ignore them and opens the large windows to the lounge, the ones that overlook the Tokyo Bay. The sun feels warm against her skin and there’s a gentle breeze coming through, the water seems to sparkle where the light hits it. It’s shame such a wonderful view can only be seen from such a shitty place.

She forces herself away from the window, no matter how much she wants to soak up the sun. Maybe if she gets a chance to get away, she should go to the beach. Relaxing and sunbathing sounds nice. Tsuneko instead gets to cleaning up the absolute mess the three men have made.

"You owe me for last night, kid," Kishi's raspy voice interrupts her.

"Excuse you?" She stops what she's doing to raise an eyebrow at him, the hell is he on about?

"I had to work all night to get your little boyfriend's crap back."

"Firstly, the next person who throws the boyfriend word around is getting strangled. Secondly, you're a cop, dealing with robberies is your job,” she grumbles, returning to cleaning as she talks.

"Robberies ain't my department, you owe me, brat."

"You did your job; you want a cookie?"

"I'll take lunch."

"You make more money than me!"

"I'm just a humble public servant," he tells her with a shit eating grin.

"Humble public servant, my ass."

"I gotta tell you Mamo, if this is how you try to get dates, I'm a little disappointed," Baba cuts in with an overdramatic look of disapproval.

Kishi chokes on his cigarette and sputters out a cloud of smoke. Tsuneko rolls her eyes, god these men are idiots.

"Don't be stupid, someone would have to be real desperate to date a kid like her."

"Ugh, between the Hatter and the old men, you really attract freaks, Koro.

"You say, still treating me like a dog."

"You know it would be so much easier if you just learned to behave."

"It would be so much easier if you lost the ability to talk."

"Then who would give you commands?"

Tsuneko rolls her eyes and bites her tongue, she’s cleaned up the majority of the mess, though she knows it will be a disaster when she returns in the evening.

“Do you want me to leave the window open or close it before I go?”

They give her the go ahead to leave it open, mostly because Kishi shows no sign of slowing down on the smoking. With that taken care of she ventures towards the suites. By the time she’s finished with them, thanks to Kishi’s suite mostly, she only has around half an hour before she needs to pick up Anais again.

She can grab a little lunchbox or something quick at a convenience store, it’s not much, but it’ll be food in her belly. The cafeteria is closer and has nicer food sure, but the line of employees makes it take longer.

Tsuneko ventures the quick walk from the Tres Spades to the nearest store, the same one Baba apparently works at part time. She scans the aisles and shelves; she’s looking over the freezer stuff when she sees something. Generally, convenience store food is pretty good, but among the refrigerator areas there’s a little boxed sushi lunch jammed back in a corner. Like, someone crammed it back in there and it’s been stuck.

Just a peek at it through the clear plastic lid, she can tell it’s gone bad. The sushi is discolored, and it just looks slimy, mushy. A smirk pulls at her lips and she pries the little meal out of its corner. She can practically smell it through the container. Kishi wanted lunch, right.

The cashier looks down oddly at it, the clearly bad sushi meal for Kishi, while she grabbed some hot skewers of karage and a bottle of juice for herself.

“Uh,” they stammer, “I can switch that out for a fresh one.”

“No, that’s fine.”

Another strange look before they just shrug and ring her up. Tsuneko eats her own food on the walk back, finishing the skewers and juice by the time she returns to the hotel. A double check of time lets her know she has time to run back up to the penthouse and drop off Kishi’s ‘lunch’.

By the time she’s gotten back up to the penthouse, a part of her is just eager to dump off the gross lunch. The smell of it is making her stomach churn just a little bit. Whoever crammed it back into that fridge, it was there for a while.

“You’re back already, princess?”

“You think we’re that messy?”

“You wanted lunch, right, Kishi?’ She’s grinning as she drops the nasty meal into the old man’s lap.

“How did you find something that smells worst than him?” Kisaki covers his nose with his head, but he’s cracking up.

“Shut it,” Kishi grumbles out as he inspects the meal, she expects him to turn his nose up at it, call her a brat or something, but he opens it instead.

“Oh god.” Tsuneko dry heaves at the smell coming from the sushi meal, just the ungodly stench of rotted fish. She shuffles closer to the open window, hoping the breeze will blow away some of the stench.

“Where did you even find that, princess?”

“It was just jammed back in some corner of the shelves, like someone hid it.”

Baba and Kisaki are faring about as well as she is, but Kishi doesn’t seem remotely bothered. He unwraps the chopsticks that come with the meal, he’s not seriously going to eat it, is he?

“Eh,” he shrugs, “I’ve had worse.”

“Don’t be-Oh god!”

There’s a crunch from the rice, the nasty hardened rice, as Kishi bites down on a piece of sushi. She can’t imagine how disgusting that must taste, hard rice and slimy rotted fish. Tsuneko nearly pukes up what little lunch she had, as Kishi just swallows it, going for another piece.

“That’s disgusting,” Kisaki comments, but he’s laughing, mostly at Tsuneko’s reaction.

“How can you eat that?!” She manages to ask through gags.

“What else would I do with it?” Kishi says with a mouthful of rotten sushi, the smell wafting out of his mouth could peel paint, Tsuneko nearly vomits.

“Tell me to fuck off and throw it out, like a normal person!”

“He literally eats out of the trash.”

“Why would you do that!?”

“Food is food.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“I think the cigarettes killed your taste buds, Mamo.”

“My taste buds are fine,” Kishi starts to shove another piece in his mouth and Tsuneko snatches the meal from his hands, “hey, I was eating that!”

“The hell you are, I’m not cleaning up puke.” She tosses it in the trash, wiping her hands off on her uniform apron.

“If anyone here is about to blow chunks, it’s you.” Kishi starts to reach over for the trash, then his hand stop, he can’t reach.

“The only thing stopping you from eating that out of the trash right now is the fact you’d have to move, isn’t it?”

“Shut up,” he grumbles as Kisaki and Baba start snickering, lighting up a cigarette.

“So, what did you get us?” The youngest of the three men suddenly asks Tsuneko.

“Nothing…”

“It’s not fair to only get him a gift, especially since we’re right here.” Kisaki sticks his tongue out, playful and annoying.

“You wanted bad sushi too?”

“I mean, I’d cherish any gift you gave me, but that meal was a little much.” Baba grimaces.

“Uhh,” she rummages around in her pockets, getting a handful of candies she keeps for kids and throws it at the two of them, “you can have those.”

Kisaki glares as a butterscotch bounces off his forehead, but Baba catches some candies in his hand and gives her a bright smile.

“Sweets from my sweetie, I’ll treasure them forever.”

“I’m gonna be sick again.”

“Ugh, old men trying to act like kids is just nasty.”

“You’re so cruel, Ota, I’m not that old.”

“Oldest man here.”

“Huh?” Tsuneko tilts her head to the side, there’s no way, she glances over at Kishi, yeah, Baba can’t be older than him. Kishi’s hair has already gone gray for god’s sake.

“Baba’s the oldest out of us,” Kisaki tells her, smirking. She gives another aggressive side-eye to Kishi.

“Yeah, right. I’m not that gullible.” She rolls her eyes; he has to be fucking with her. Kisaki and Baba immediately start cracking up.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Kishi grumbles glaring at her. Her phone alarm buzzes to life, giving her ten minutes to go get Anais.

“Welp, time for me to head out.”

For the second time of the day, she’s leaving them to laugh as she scurries back to work. It’s odd, the light feeling she has these past two visits, no pit of dread in her stomach. Teasing them and joking around with them isn’t awful. At the very least they haven’t seen quite as mean spirited lately. She shakes her head at the odd thought and finds her way to Anais’s room.

Her shift passes by quickly with Anais playing her sidekick. When guests stop Tsuneko with questions they coo over the small girl. With every room, the two teach each other more of languages. She hates to admit it, but the Anais is teaching her more than vice versa. But as long as the work is getting done and their time is beneficial for both of them, Tsuneko will consider it a win. Before she knows it her phone alarm is going off again, time for her to return Anais for evening lessons, dinner, and bedtime. The end of their day together.

Tsuneko leads Anais to the room by the hand, her tutor and parents are already there to answer the door. The little girl excitedly runs to hug her mom, the sight of it brings a smile to Tsuneko's face.

"Mommy, Daddy, look what Tsuneko taught me," Anais babbles excitedly before signing her name in JSL, "I just said my name!"

"What's that now?" Esme asks with an arched brow.

"Japanese sign language, I figured she'd be bored if all she did was watch me clean all day, hope you don't mind," Tsuneko explains.

"Oh, that's wonderful." Esme flashes a brilliant smile and Julien gives a softer one in kind.

"I also wrote down the information for the Puroland event." She hands down the written note to the pair.

"Oh, Thank you so much. For everything."

"It's no problem at all. Have a lovely evening."

They say their goodbyes and Tsuneko excuses herself to return to work. She has to go clean the penthouse again, then maybe she'll drop by Wonderland and have a celebratory tea party with the Hatter after she clocks out.

Everyone is there when she returns to the lounge. Ichinomiya working on a laptop. Oh is reading a book, look like one of the detective novels he seems fond of. Kishi looking over a newspaper, while Baba and Kisaki are still playing with cards. No one greets her this time, seemingly focused on what they're doing.

Ichinomiya always has the same request when he sees her, so she makes a beeline for the espresso machine. She makes his coffee and remembering the drinks the others have requested before, she decides to make those as well. Plain black tea for Oh, black coffee for Kishi, rose tea for Baba, and coffee with just a bit of sugar and cream for Kisaki. She arranges their drinks on a tray and brings it out.

"Coff-," Ichinomiya starts then pauses when he sees Tsuneko placing his drink down in front of him.

"Aww you're already know my favorite drink, thanks pretty lady."

"I'm just fortunate enough not to have the attention span of a goldfish.”

There’s still a soft breeze coming in from the open window, cooler now as the evening comes in. The temperature of the room hasn’t dropped significantly, but it’s much cooler and if the window is left open for much longer there will be a definite chill. And she’s sure Ichinomiya will be bitching about it before she knows it.

“Can you close the-” Ichinomiya’s words stall at the click of the window being shut.

“Maybe, she’s finally learning her place,” Oh comments, a cruel little smirk drawing across his face.

“Fuck off,” she grumbles as she starts to clean the mess that’s built up since the last time she was here.

She cleans up the mess of cigarette butts, trash they’ve tossed aside haphazardly, and general mess. Tsuneko has started dusting when she hears the peanut gallery start whispering, gazes on her, but she can’t make out the words. Her head whips around so fast, she nearly gets whiplash. She doesn’t trust these men as far as she could throw them.

“What are you doing?” She narrows her eyes at Baba and Kisaki who’re snickering like the bozos they are. All of the men giving shit eating grins. Smug bastards.

“Bettin’ on if your top’s gonna bust open,” Kishi answers, but he’s no less guilty than the others she’s sure.

“Well, jokes on you, I got a new uniform, so.” She sticks her tongue out at them.

“Shameful.” Oh shakes his head, she’s not sure if he means her or the men betting on if they’ll get a peek at her bra. Kisaki and Baba groan, digging yen from their wallets to hand over to Ichinomiya.

“That’s not even fair, boss.”

“He probably already knew she got a new uniform.”

“As if I could let an employee walk around like that.”

“You ordered me a new uniform,” she raises an eyebrow, “I figured Kenzaki was sick of my shit.”

“It shouldn’t be on other people to make sure you’re dressed for your job,” Oh comments, not bothering to even look at her, she hates that he’s not wrong.

“I’m gonna go clean the suites,” she murmurs and starts to head out of the room.

“Wouldn’t you be better off cleaning, boss’s suite first?” Baba asks, the questioning look on his face and the lilt of his voice tells her he’s being genuine and not trying to micromanage. She can see where he’s coming from, Ichinomiya’s room is only accessible through the lounge, since it’s on the highest possible floor.

“No, Kishi’s is the biggest mess, so I have to clean it first or it’ll never get done.”

“I bet his room is disgusting.”

“It is.”

“Hey, I ain’t that bad!” Kishi blusters to defend himself.

“Poor grandpa can’t even clean up after himself.”

“Why is everyone on my ass today?!”

“It’s national pick on the elderly day, you didn’t know?” Tsuneko can’t help grinning as she teases.

“I’m not that old!”

“Be careful, I don’t think getting upset is good for you at this age,” Baba joins in on the teasing.

“You’re older than me!”

“Bullshit.”

“What do you know, ya damn brat.”

“I know lying about your age is just plain sad.”

“Don’t you have something to clean?”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

Tsuneko waves him off before heading to the suites. It's odd thinking of how much she's learned about those men in such a short amount of time, given the situation. Cleaning people's rooms tends to do that to a degree, seeing what everyone keeps in their living quarters, how they take care of themselves. Obviously, she doesn't know the finer details of their lives and who they are, she doesn't want to know. But, having any sense of familiarity with the men who bought her...It's odd. It doesn't seem right.

They're ruining her life; she wants to keep a distance. But, inane little details about each of them keep sticking in her mind. It's impossible to avoid, it seems.

How can she not know Kishi's favorite brand of cigarette when she's the one who throws away all the cartons?

Or that apparently Oh likes detective novels, when she's the one who's tucking away the dog-eared books when he leaves them out in his suite?

There's tarot cards and astrology books in Baba's room, so she knows he likes that kind of supernatural occult stuff, also from cleaning his closet that his signature red suit is far from his most garish one.

Kisaki's brassy strawberry blonde hair is thanks to bleach she's seen the boxes of in his bathroom, he could afford a salon, but must prefer doing it on his own.

Ichinomiya is picky with temperatures, as he is with most things. The thermostats in his bedroom, living room, office, and even limousine are all set to the same exact temperature.

There are so many little things she's learned about them, it's taken her almost a year to learn as much about Sakiko and Chisato, the closest she has to real friends. Yet, he's learned these things about the auction managers in a week. A hazard of the job, she tells herself as she finishes up the last of her work.

She's clocked out and in her casual clothes when she heads down to Wonderland, making good on her promise to see the Hatter again soon.

“Alice!~” He greets her, loud and vibrant as soon as she walks in. She can’t help but notice the stark contrast between the booming voice of the Hatter and the soft murmur he used out of costume.

“Hey, Mads, want me to make some tea?”

“Yes, that’d be wonderful!”

She busies herself in the kitchen area, making his favorite Assam tea with milk. Her thoughts constantly drifting back to last night when she saw him out of costume.

She resolved to meet him where he’s at.

She said she wouldn’t get involved.

But, fuck, she wants to know more.

“So, about last night-” She starts as she’s pouring him a cup of tea.

“Alice!” He jolts in his seat and nearly knocks the table over, Tsuneko flusters to avoid spilling tea everywhere, “I’ve forgotten something very important!”

He’s out of his seat, vivid blue eyes wide and frantic, her heart sinks. It’s his choice, but it’s clear, he’s avoiding the subject. He doesn’t trust her, probably doesn’t have a reason too, especially after her tirade. She shouldn’t pry and she even swore she wouldn’t get involved, but her curiosity, or nosiness, has a way of getting the best of her.

“You need to try on your costume, Alice!” He grabs her the second she sets the tea pot down and drags her towards his bedroom.

“Huh?”

“It won’t be long now before the auction; we have to make sure it fits properly!”

She’s pulled into his bedroom, all his odd little treasures now returned to where they once were. Her attention is drawn to the clothes on his bed, a frilly baby blue Lolita style dress with a variety of accessories along with it.

“Ah…”

She doesn’t like this… Tsuneko is a twenty-two-year-old grown woman, she can’t pull off that kind of thing. As much as she loves cute things, more extremely adorable stuff is reserved for wearing alone in the privacy of her dorm. She wouldn’t dream of parading around in something like that around other people, no one would ever take her seriously again.

“It just arrived earlier today, I’m sure it will look wonderful, try it on ~!”

The door shuts behind him as he gives her some privacy, she sighs, running her fingers over the material. It’s soft and obviously high quality. She toes off her sneakers and socks, it’s not as exposing as the bathrooms in the penthouse suites with the huge windows, but it still feel odd stripping in someone else’s room.

She runs her fingers along the soft navy fabric of his bed spread. The Hatter, when he’s in costume, there’s always the scent of heavy makeup powder. But the smell is notably absent in his room, it was absent when she saw him out of costume. The scent coming off of his skin more reminiscent of cinnamon cookies, his room has that kind of smell mingled with the must of old artifacts, like one would smell in an antique shop. It suits the collection of random old stuff, but also shows he spends most of his time in this room out of costume. The presence of that soft-spoken boy with dainty features can be felt, even with him being away.

Tsuneko starts to undo the fastens of her short overalls, stepping out of them. Her oversized tee shirt joins the pile, her nerves alight at being in nothing but her underwear. Every little creak or noise of the room makes her scared the door is about to swing open. She knows the Hatter would never peep on her, but it doesn’t stop her anxiety.

The pair of white stockings catch her eye first, pure solid white and soft in her hands. She carefully pulls them up, terrifying of catching the delicate fabric and ruining them. They’re tight, but not uncomfortable, as she pulls them up the thick of her thighs and the plush of her ass. There’s a full-length mirror in the Hatter’s room and she sighs at the sight of her black strawberry printed underwear showing through the white fabric. Not that it truly matters, but she dislikes the visual and makes a mental note to wear white ones the day of the auction.

Tsuneko appreciates the soft baby blue of the dress, the white lace across the collar and at the bottom of the short-puffed sleeves. It takes her a moment to find the opening through the layers of blue and white frills, petticoats giving the costume a full fluffy look. She brings it over her head, it’s on the heavy side with the full skirt. It falls just above her knees and she struggles to pull up the zipper on the back. Not because it doesn’t fit, but because it’s hard to reach.

Once she thinks it’s done up, she turns to the accessors laid out before her. A white lacey apron that goes over the dress, she ties it securely around her waist. There’s a pair of little wristlets, Baby blue with a bit of white lace, a little silk white ribbon, and tiny twinkling star charms. All that’s left are shoes, black glossy platform Lolita shoes with bows on the toe. And two black ribbons, one longer than the other. She decides to contend with the shoes, sliding them on and fastening the little buckles.

She frowns at herself in the mirror, feeling simultaneously like a little girl playing dress up and an old woman trying to look like a little girl. A part of her is humiliated that anyone will see her in this, the other part is mad at herself for not hating the dress. It’s cute. She loves cute, everything she owns is cute. But she doesn’t want to be cute, because the things that come with being cute suck, because the world sucks.

“Are you finished in there, Alice?” The Hatter’s cheerful voice cuts off her internal rant about being cute.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

The door swings open and the Hatter strides into the room, eyes stopping on her. He pauses for a moment and her face flushes at the attention.

“It looks just as beautiful as I thought it would, absolutely gorgeous, but,” he pauses and seems to think for a moment, like he’s picking his words carefully, “it’s missing something.”

“I wasn’t sure what the ribbons were for,” she admits, pointing to them.

“Ah.”

He nods in understands and gracefully swoops up the ribbons in his gloved hands, then his steps halt for another moment, his gaze on her back.

“It’s not fully zipped, Alice,” he says suddenly close to her back, breath tickling her ear, as he zips it up the final inch. Then his hands are in her hair, gloves brushing the nape of her neck as he undoes her ponytail.

His touch leaves her for a moment, then he’s in front of her again, in her space. He brings one of silky black ribbons around and under the collar of the dress, tying it into a little bow just at the collar. The Hatter takes the other ribbon and moves it to between her hair and the back of her neck, back behind her ears as he ties it at the top of her head. He adjusts and plays with her hair, she focuses her eyes at a spot on the ground, the direct eye contact is too much. Then he’s cupping her cheeks and forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Absolutely perfect, take a look at yourself.” His smile is radiant, and she feels her face warm when he drops his hands.

She takes a look in the mirror. The ribbon in her hair is tied to look almost like bunny ears on top of her head. The way he’s done her hair is cute, the ribbon keeping her sidelocks and everything back out of her face, her bangs left alone.

It’s all adorable and cute. She’s cute and adorable, and no one will ever take her seriously in her life, especially not after seeing her in this. And she hates that but does genuinely love how cute it is. A confusing tug of war to be sure, but if her biggest dilemma of the day is struggling with being cute and easily patronized, she’ll consider it a win.

“Of course, during the auction you’ll need a mask or face paint, but-“

“Here comes the sun, doo doo doo~ Here comes the sun, and I say~”

The Beatles song buzzes from her clothes on the floor, cutting off the Hatter. Tsuneko freezes, the custom ringtone for her dad. Her earlier thoughts of wanting to see and talk to her dad come to mind. She’s been ignoring his calls for so long and she doesn’t want that anymore.

“Sorry, I need to answer that, I’ll be right back.” Tsuneko rushes to get her phone from her pocket and scrambles to answer her dad as she leaves Wonderland. The oversized chunky heels nearly send her plummeting a few times as she presses the phone to her ear.

“Uh, Chipmunk?” Her dad’s loud clear voice, saying that nickname is the cherry on top of what’s been a surprisingly good day. She sits down on the stairs that lead from Wonderland to the rest of the Tres Spades, taking in the moment before she speaks.

“Hey, dad, sorry about that. I had to get away to talk.”

“No problem, I’m more surprised you answered. I was startin’ to think you forgot all about little old me.”

She laughs, her dad’s voice is like pure nostalgia and sunshine. The only thing she wants is to hug him right now. Come clean about everything and just have her dad. But she can’t do that, not yet. She can’t tell him she’s been lying over the phone; her dad deserves better. Not to mention, she still doesn’t know what’s going to happen after this next week.

“Like I could ever forget you.”

“I’m still not use to you talking like you’re from Tokyo,” he teases the change she makes in her dialect, using different Japanese pronouns.

“Sorry, I’ll cut the shit,” she grins as she switches, the Kyushu dialect much more comfortable on her tongue.

“How has everything been, you must have been real busy the past year or so, couldn’t even spare a conversation for your dad.”

“Ah, I’m sorry, I just had classes and, uh, I got a new internship.” This is why she’s been avoiding taking his calls, lying to him is so much harder when she has to say the words and hear his voice. She hates being dishonest as a whole, but she can lie to anyone else in the world without batting an eyelash. Her dad is an entirely different story, every lie makes her heart constrict.

“It’s fine, I swear, you’ve apologized more in the last five minutes than you did your entire childhood.”

“I just feel bad, okay. I know I’ve been MIA on you, but I promise I’m okay. I’m still working hard, still love my dumbass dad.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less of my chipmunk, I’ve been thinking of sending you another care package, help keep your energy up.”

“Actually, if that’s the case, my address has changed,” the idea of a care package from her dad sounds so nice right now, “my internship is actually with the legal department of the Tres Spades, y’know that giant hotel, so I’m staying at their employee dorms right now to save money.”

That sounds kind of believable, she thinks. She hopes.

“Ah, that’s sound wonderful, if you can get a job there, you’d be set for life, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, it’s a really great place to work.”

“Do you know when you’ll be graduating yet? I wanna make sure I don’t miss it.”

“Uh,” she stutters, “I’m not quite sure yet, but it’s still a while off, so don’t stress.”

“You’re not keeping me away, so I don’t embarrass you, are ya?”

Her heart sinks, that he could even think that.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, you’re the least embarrassing thing in my life, I promise.”

“Ah, shit, look at the time. I gotta get some sleep, and I’m sure you have work to do. I’ll get out of your hair for now. Love you, be safe.”

“I’ll try, love you, bye.”

She lets out a soft sigh as she hands up. It’s just past midnight. The first week of the bet is officially over, one more week. She can do this. If she can get a few more days like this, she knows she can charge through it all. Tsuneko lays back out against the stairs, feeling them dig uncomfortably into her back. The hum of the ballroom floor overhead is dulled but drifting down the staircase, below her the Hatter and Wonderland are waiting for her. She spends a moment in the in-between, appreciating the peace she finds there.

#kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #mamoru kishi #Mitsunari Baba #eisuke ichinomiya #rhion hatter #soryu oh #kbtbb baba #kbtbb mamoru #kbtbb ota #kbtbb eisuke #kbtbb rhion #kbtbb soryu #black market wonderland #tsuneko tomori #Ota Kisaki

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