#Two weeks together in an enclosed space for them
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i would love to hear more headcanons you have about chosoyuki after everything has been settled, what do they do? how will their relationship change as they settle themselves into normalcy? Would they travel the world together? what are their favourite mundane activities to do together BASICALLY DOMESTIC AU
Okaaaaay, welcome to my TED talk.
Well, of course everything depends on what we define as "everything is settled". Honestly, I genuinely think that at the end of jjk manga they’ll find the way to get rid of cursed energy and curses, and my headcanon is that THIS IS how Choso will die (as he is a half-curse), but we ignore angst headcanons, we are here to talk about fluffy, unrealistic, absolutely random (and tbh not really domestic) ones.
ARE YOU READY?? 1.3k (wtf) words text + illustrations under the cut:
I don’t know if you can see that from the way I draw chosoyuki, but I don’t headcanon them to be deeply in love or something like this, I think of them more like of friends with benefits (whose “friendship” might have gone too far after some time spent together). So, after everything is settled they can just as likely separate and forget about each other or end up growing closer to one another, catch up some feeLiNgS and continue whatever is happening between them.
Anyway, I think Yuki’s scientific curiosity is in ecstasy from meeting infamous death painting, she bombards him with questions about everything: about his abilities, his brothers, his memories, his body. Not everyday you meet someone you read about in history textbooks! I can imagine her suggesting him to do some experiments on him, but he freaks out - he doesn’t want to be an object for experiments anymore. “Toji, Choso……all men I’m interested in always turn me down” :_(
Yuki is most likely teaching Choso fighting or some jujutsu tricks as we speak. (Maybe Gege will finally show us them in the next part of the arc?)
Yuki: “nature was cruel enough to make me bisexual so I’m attracted to mEn, and my standards have fallen even lower so now I’m attracted to the (half)curse?? it’s probably because of adrenaline rush caused by oncoming end of the world...”
I don’t think Choso is totally unaware about how modern world works, I headcanon that he has some vague memories and some automatic skills left from the previous owner of his body(“wow, I can ride a bicycle?”), but some skills become completely forgotten - so he has difficulties reading and writing, doesn’t understand technologies, and obviously doesn’t know a shit about mass culture. Teaching him how to write a text message is like teaching your grandparents (everybody has this experience, right?? it's hard!)
Choso has never held money in his hands, and moreover never earned them himself, so Yuki is kinda sponsoring him at first (sugar mommy, ha).
The question “what do they do?” is interesting, because it depends on whether they got rid of curses or not. If not, I guess Choso could start working on jjk society (well, on its updated version with new higher ups, I’m sure old ones would just exorcize him), kill curses and stuff like that. But if they find a way to get rid of curses and sorcerers are not needed anymore, I bet all sorcerers will have some identity crisis: they lost their job, the meaning of the whole life, they don’t have skills for other jobs, and WHAT jobs? What do they want to do in their life? WHO THEY ARE without their sorcery work?
OF COURSe Choso would travel with Yuki! He was in a tube for 150 years, Yuki thinks it’s sad and unfair, and says to him: “I’m gonna show you the world”. I think he’s easy to impress, everything is new to him: new places, cultures, food, basically everything, even mundane things, and Yuki is kinda discovers all these things again with him, even though she might have seen them dozens of times before, got used to them and stopped noticing.
I think they would be like this meme: Yuki is talking too much and Choso is listening. She’s like a walking encyclopedia, tells facts and stories and thoughts about everything, kinda teaches him a course of modern human culture, shows him her favourite films, books, etc. (Choso would hate reading though, it’s too hard with all these kanji…She would probably read him out loud sometimes)
Choso takes Yuji Itadori’s surname for a fake passport and other documents, because he hates the very idea of having the same surname as his shitty father Kamo Noritoshi.
Yuki always comes up with the craziest, definitely not safe and sometimes illegal ideas, and Choso is like: “I’m in, because why not.” (Were they deported once from some country for breaking the law? Probably)
Choso is touch-starved, super clingy, always touching, always stays too close, embarrassingly sincere with everything he says. Sometimes gets jealous, when Yuki starts to flirt too much with someone (and she does it quite often).
I headcanon Yuki has never had romantic relationships with people who was a part of jujutsu world, or those who she could tell about this part of her life. Her partners weren’t happy she was always hiding something, couldn’t stand her random work schedule, her constant “work trips”, her sudden disappearances without warnings or with some half-assed excuses. As a result, even those partners she was serious about broke up with her at the end. So in relationships with Choso she finds absolutely new levels of openness and trust.
Sometimes they go to the training room to beat the shit out of each other.
Yuki, realizing she accidentally chose a tearjerker movie with some siblings drama for their movie date night: daaaaaaaaaaaaamn
Once, when Yuki is abroad without Choso, she opens him a world of nudes and sexting (he’s awkward as hell with it)
I think that if their relationships got serious, Choso would like to have a proper family with a lot of kids, but I’m sure Yuki is a childfree, so their different views on their future could cause some tension or conflicts or even break up (but we ignore angst headcanons here, and move on)
Random headcanon about Yuki which is based only on my overthinking: I think she doesn’t go on missions, not because she’s careless or irresponsible or whatever, but because something terrible and traumatizing happened on a mission in her school days. In fanbook it’s said that her stress source is missions, which is kinda strange, because a) according to fanbook she’s the only sorcerer who is stressed about missions b) she’s special grade! Why stressing about missions? To experience something terrible because of curses, start avoiding missions and then come to the conclusion that the only way to not experience it again is to get rid of the very origin of curses - cursed energy - sounds reasonable. But maybe I’m just overthinking, and she just doesn’t like to work! (and I agree, work is shit!!)
Random headcanon about Choso: I think he will always feel a bit lonely in any company. He will never have the same bond he had with his brothers. Yes, he has Yuji, he will find other people he cares about and who care about him, but it will never be the same. He will always feel a bit off, a bit lost, a bit out of place, not understanding what people are talking about, not understanding how to treat them. And even if he’s happy with the life he has, he will always feel - somewhere deep down - that he doesn’t belong to this place.
Okay, this headcanon is absolutely terrible, but: WHAT IF Choso can’t age and die of old age because of his curse nature, so if they live a peaceful life after manga events, he outlives all people he cares about and sees them die?????(“we ignore angst headcanons here” I said, you know, like a liar).
Yuki: “Wow, the man who has no idea about gender roles and stereotypes in a society, how refreshing!”
Can I insert here my cat lover Choso headcanons? Yes, I can. One day when Yuki is away, Choso adopts a cat. Yuki has to accept it.
Yuki: my girl❤️ Choso: my girls❤️
___________________________________
Thank you for coming to my TED talk! I have no idea, how I managed to write such an embarrassing amount of text. When I read this ask for the first time, my first thought was: “damn, I don’t have any headcanons…”, but I decided to give it a try and lost control, it turns out I have A LOT!
Looking forward to Gege ruining all of them!
#ask#chosoyuki#it’s kinda embarrassing to make up so much shit about characters who just stood together on a couple of frames#But on the other hand#Two frames for us#Two weeks together in an enclosed space for them#I SEE THE POTENTIAL OKAY#DONT LAUGH AT ME#Gege please make them friends#The rest I will do myself
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the gate girl!dadstarion, 1.5k
He knows vaguely where the building is - he’s sure he’s passed it on one of his late night jaunts - but you’re coming along too. He knows he’s prepared for this moment, down to the most minute detail.
-
astarion is a school-gate dilf on his first pick-up adventure with you.
wc: 1.5k
a/n: dadstarion fridays! wooooo! hope you enjoy - love, dal x
“Come on. We’ll be late.”
Your hand meets his with a toothy grin.
Astarion teeters a little.
He knows vaguely where the building is - he’s sure he’s passed it on one of his late night jaunts - but you’re coming along too.
He knows he’s prepared for this moment, down to the most minute detail.
Weeks spent designing the overcoat now covering his clothes - almost feltish in texture, a deep blue with gentle golden threading. Brass buttons. The smallest red ribbon detailing in the seams. The fit is immaculate, despite the fact he had to take his own measurements. The gloves match beautifully, just as he’d intended.
Shoes polished within an inch of their lives. Shirt and trousers pressed to perfection. Hair neatly coiffed with assistance from your gentle hands.
He grimaces.
“She’s going to think I’m weird.”
“Is this for her, or you?’
He takes a moment. Examines both sides of his glove with a flex. Sniffs pointedly.
‘She’s not going to think you’re any weirder than she already does. She’s your little freak.” You grab at his sides playfully and he shimmies around your clutches, breaking into a timid laugh.
The dark skies of Deepwinter are primed to allow Astarion his first ever school pick-up.
He hasn’t slept, you know that. Bag in hand holding the gift he’d spent the short day hidden away working on. Your matching scarves around your necks. The biting chill beyond the threshold of your hearth.
Eyes round in a contemplative lax as his hand rests atop the door handle.
“I’m being stupid, aren’t I?”
Your eyes roll fondly into your skull.
“Yes. Now, get moving.”
It takes you enclosing your hand in his for the door to open, immediately facing a brutal fracas of ice-cold winds lapping at your face.
“How in any realm is a child expected to walk home in this? Ridiculous!” He shuffles from foot to foot as he chunters while you lock the door and pocket the key, looking up to the stars.
“With a coat. And gloves. And…’
You point to the bag in his hand as you interlink your arms.
‘A scarf.’
Astarion gives a small smile, pressing a chaste kiss to your head.
‘Come on, now. We might get there in time to see her out the door.”
-
The walk there isn’t the leisurely gander Astarion had dreamt of when he’d thought of this moment.
In his head it was always late summer. Sunblushed.
And yet as you turn your head to him in your giddy half-canter; cheeks flush and breath clouding the space around your perfect head, he can’t believe he ever imagined it any other way.
The stars overhead are familiar as they always have been. The slightest slippy tread of frost on the cobble. Windows around you lit with candles and the loud taverns you pass en-route seem well hunkered-down.
He finds himself pulling you closer with each corner turned, stumbling to keep with your gait.
And then, there it is.
A huddle of parents waiting out in the cold, hands rubbing together; a low hum of chatter. School gates still closed. When you greet some of them with familiarity - one or two even getting a hug as you make your way to your preferred circle - and introduce him as your husband, his heart swells.
He didn’t realise you were friends with these people. That these fellow parents could be people to have anything in common with in the first place. Astarion is hardly the enigma he used to be within the city walls and they know of him. They know you’re with him.
But none have ever seen him in the flesh.
There’s a minute where he ponders what they think of him. How you’d described him, how they may have looked at your daughter under the orange gloaming light of Leaffall and wondered which features of hers came first from him as opposed to you. How they’d pieced him together in their minds.
He feels a little out of place as you chatter - hyper aware of each stolen glance in his direction. The whites of new eyes flickering in the darkness.
It isn’t often he meets new people anymore. Even his client roster is exclusive.
“Why would I tell you how good-looking he is when he isn’t even here to hear it?”
He tunes back in. They all look, you included.
“Hm?”
“Marta-’
A faux accusatory glance on your face as you look over to the human who - Astarion presumes - is Marta.
‘Asked why I hadn’t told the group just how attractive you are.”
The way the most blinding smile breaks over your ruddied cheeks. He melts behind a scoff.
“Actually darling, Marta has a point. I’m hurt, frankly.”
Gods. They’re all laughing. Your gaggle of school-gate friends and he has them laughing.
“No, it’s just dark. See him by light. Then you’ll change your minds.”
You huddle closer despite the brazen lie and the group laughs away. He throws in a small chuckle for good measure and presses a kiss to your head once more.
They’re all relatively harmless, he decides.
What do school gate friends do? Why have you never invited them over for wine or something?
“I mean - Astarion, what do you think?”
“Hm?”
“They’re showing a rather keen interest to come over one evening for dinner. Inconspicuous, I’m sure.”
He looks around warily. Can they read his mind? Is someone here a weird school gate mind reader freak? What the fuck?
Your eyes narrow at Marta in jest.
Oh.
If you’re even showing the slightest hint at wanting the doting husband, the doting husband he will give you. Freely and willingly. Far too easily. Naturally.
“Oh! Whatever you want, my love. Anything.”
Astarion takes your head in his hands and brings you close for a warm kiss, eyes softening as he holds you in place. A gentle smile against the harsh wind.
“What’s in the bag?” Another asks in a jarring fettle. Your head whips round. He answers softly.
“I- I made the little one a scarf.”
A coo arises from those huddled around the two of you.
“He’s a tailor. A good one, too. Really good.”
You nod with a smile, looking at him. You’re mid-cycle and the idea of your daughter spotting him with those big eyes makes you a bit weak.
A saccharine voice from somewhere in the mix - “He’s immaculate, honey. I’m a little jealous?”
If he can blush, Astarion feels one coming on. This feels staged.
“He can’t take his shoes off without kicking them up the wall. Or catch spiders.”
-
As you resume your quiet chatter amongst the group, Astarion catches the door open in the near distance and a soft amber glow pouring from it from the corner of his eye.
It’s a trance. He looks over the heads obscuring his view, the tips of his toes touching the ends of his pristine shoes.
And there she is.
Absolutely perfect. Small, searching the crowd for the parent she knows will be here.
Then she sees him.
It’s not difficult from afar, even in the dark - she recognises the shock of white hair anywhere - and the look of sheer confusion painted on her face shifts to unfettered joy in seconds.
Gods. She’s running. Tiny legs, bag flailing in her hand. Shouting-
“DADDY!”
As she hurtles towards him, he realises he’s never seen her run like this. She can’t run like this in the house. It’d be enough to make him sad if he weren’t so wholly elated.
He crouches just in time for her to barrel into his open arms.
The way he cups the back of her head is as if he hasn’t seen her in years, spinning her as he stands and holds her at his hip. She’s babbling something wicked and all of it sounds like utter nonsense and he’s so besotted it doesn’t even matter.
His little girl, out in the world. Being a person.
And it’s him that she chooses to run to.
“Charming! Hello love!” You shuffle closer and plant a large kiss on the back of her head, taking the bags from her hand and hoisting them up over your back in a routine twirl.
You take Astarion’s hint of a glance toward his bag and roll your eyes fondly, feeling for the scarf and slipping it back into his hand.
“My little darling! Hello! I have something for you - close your eyes.”
He haphazardly wraps the scarf around her neck with one hand as she bristles against his hip, wiggling her shoulders in some impromptu happy dance.
“Look now! You match us!” He exclaims.
She opens her eyes and squeals with glee you haven’t seen at the school gate before, ever.
And true to his word, the scarf wholly matches both of yours. Embroidered with small golden stars on navy fabric. Her name in some immaculate loopy hand. Far too big for her at present, but warm on this coldest of evenings.
“I love it daddy. I want another one.” She nods acutely and smatters his face in small kisses.
As you look to Astarion, he raises both brows in amusement at her request. She tucks her head in under his chin.
“Come along now. Let’s get you warm by the fire.”
✦
#my writing#astarion x reader#dadstarion#astarion baldurs gate#baldurs gate astarion#astarion ancunin#bg3#astarion#astarion bg3#astarion x tav#tav x astarion#dadstarion fridays#tailor dadstarion
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To Have And To Scold
♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It’s just that… you don’t really get along all that well, do you? At least, that’s what you think.
CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers, slooow burn, language, rpf, fem!reader, panic attack
Author’s note: when i reached 7K i kind of knew the poll’s results wouldn’t matter to me anymore – there is going to be a part 11, or an epilogue if you will, because there’s just... it’s just too much. I need to thank @thebellenouvelle for the inspiration behind eyelid kisses, and @alwayslindie for fisticuffs (ifykyk) SO SORRY BUT THIS IS NOT THE END pls enjoy
Wordcount: 7.1K
part one - part two - part three - part four - part five- part six- part seven - part eight - part nine- part ten - epilogue
Today was not the day you expected to find yourself in a dark coat closet of a hotel suite, hiding from your friends with Joe's hand covering your mouth as you made big shocked eyes at him.
Today was about Poppy and Mark.
The happy couple. Getting married. Mark, and Poppy. Poppy, and Mark.
It was about them. Full focus just on your friends. Just on his friends. Nothing else. No one else.
So then why the fuck had Joe hurriedly pushed you into a closet in a full scuffle of frantic limbs when he heard Poppy and Mark outside the door? And why did you, despite still being so angry, and hurt, and so fucking embarrased - why did you like it?
Joe had to recount his steps. How did he get here? How did he find himself in a small, enclosed space that instantly created a sense of intimacy and closeness which intensified all and any existing feelings he had towards you?
Joe remembered having looked himself in the eye in his hallway mirror that morning, right before he headed out, and had sighed deeply at his own reflection.
Today was going to be impossible.
He thought about setting reminders on his phone because he knew, he fucking knew his mind would be with you all day. Guilt and shame and embarrassment and, God he felt so awful.
As he should. He was well aware.
But today was about Poppy. Poppy and Mark. And yes, he was going to be seeing you again, which... ugh, he could eat himself alive at the prospect.
For two and a half weeks after he'd gotten to touch you, and smell you, and taste you - Jesus Christ Joe had actually gotten so much more than he'd ever even dreamt of - he had almost reached out thousands of times. Had hovered fingers over a text thread. Over your name in his contact list.
But what was he going to say?
How was he going to break the ice? The thick, thick, thick thick ice that had frozen over because of his doing. He'd known the second your front door fell shut behind him that he'd done the wrong thing. That'd he had fucked up in a way he knew he could never come back from.
Joe was the worst.
When Joe thought of you now, it didn't involve swooning or tender romantic feelings. Instead, it was all gut-wrenching guilt and violent shame that made him want to hide himself away.
The thing he'd been so scared of, the chance of things going wrong and ending badly between the two of you, had happened before anything had even really started at all. He'd been left humiliated by his own actions, and couldn't even begin to imagine how you must have felt. Left disheartened by the vast impact of his mistakes and the loss of something that he had never even had made him want to get away. To leave. To move abroad and not tell anyone. If he could, Joe would happily disappear and skip this whole wedding all together.
Obviously, he couldn't.
Today was about Poppy. Poppy and Mark.
And Joe was the maid of honour after all. And so, after a last stern look at himself, Joe walked out and made his way over to where Poppy and her gaggle of bridesmaids were meeting to get ready for the big day.
In your flat, you gave the e-mail a last once over.
Joe had e-mailed you a week ago. You still had to go over your speeches, and instead of being a normal person and perhaps reaching out to apologise, to maybe talk things through - instead of that, he'd gone and sent you an e-mail.
An e-mail.
And it was all professional too, which was... you couldn't even begin to organise your feelings about it. He'd attached his speech 'for your acknowledgement' and you'd had to drink three fat glasses of wine before you'd been able to read it.
It had the audacity to be good. Rude. It made you rewrite your whole speech with a clenched jaw whilst tipsy and you'd regretted not backing up what you'd previously written the next morning, because you definitely had only made it worse.
But.
Today was about Mark. About Mark and Poppy.
Not about how angry you still were with Joe. Not about all that weaponized disappointment you could feel sit inside of your chest that hadn't gone anywhere, because you weren't going to be the one to reach out to Joe, were you?
You were stubborn like that. Embarrassed like that. Because Joe had fucked up, and in doing so, for some weird fucked up reason, you now had feelings for Joe.
Very real feelings that were conflicting and painful and so, so stupid. It made it all too easy to pivot the anger and aim all of its arrows right at yourself, when, no. Joe had fucked up. Not you.
Joe was the one that fucked up and, Joe could be the one to fix it, too.
You know, if you'd actually let him. You weren't sure if you'd even let him, but you wanted to see him at least attempt it. It was the least you deserved, you thought. And then after that, you could just avoid him for the rest of your life. You'd work something out. Find a system. Something.
So then... how had you even allowed yourself to be shoved into a closet by Joe before he quickly stepped inside himself and closed the door, engulfing the both of you in darkness? And why did Joe feel that it was totally okay to press his full palm over your mouth in order to make sure you didn't respond when Poppy and Mark walked in and called out for you?
As you had made your way over to the hotel suite where Mark and his groomsmen were going to be getting ready, you tried to get rid of the exasperated feeling in your fingertips at the prospect of having to be near Joe all day.
But the feeling was still there when you walked in and got hugs from all the heavily-cologned men who were all scattered throughout the room, each attending to their own individual tasks. Some were carefully doing their hair, others were using lintrollers all over themselves, and you spotted two of them keeping busy polishing their shoes to a high shine.
The feeling was still there when you let a photographer into the room, to take some photographs of the camaraderie and brotherhood among the groomsmen as they joked and teased each other. Men being men, boys being boys, with you mixed in among them, the only one not in a matching suit.
And the feeling was still there when all of them made you help them with their ties.
All together they were a picture of elegance and sophistication, but beneath the surface, you could feel the excitement and anxious anticipation for what the day held. Everyone was a little nervous, and obviously Mark probably was a lot nervous, but fucking hell, why couldn't your hands stop shaking? The bottle of whiskey Mark's brother opened, because, "the girls are having champagne, aren't they?" really helped, and, yes, you hated whiskey, but fuck it, please, let's fucking go.
You used the excuse of having to put your dress on to slip into the bathroom. In there you took your sweet time, because the large bathroom gave you some time to yourself, and all the cool luxurious white marble that surrounded you in there was calming.
When you stepped back out, the groomsmen were just on their way out, following the photographer who was going to use them for test shots.
"My turn," Mark said to you as the door fell shut, leaving the large suite quiet, and he held out his tie for you to help him with.
You grinned and took it, glad you were given a task you could manage. Maybe that was the secret. Just keep your mind occupied the whole day. Right in the middle of doing a full Windsor knot, Mark suddenly placed both palms over your biceps and ducked his head down a little to force eye-contact.
"It's all going according to plan, isn't it? We're on schedule, right?"
"Of course we are," you said, but Mark could see your eyes find the clock on the far end of the room behind him to check.
"We're actually ahead of schedule, which is great," you said, finishing off his tie and making sure it was straight before you patted him over his chest.
"So, then... why are you shaking?"
You paused and curled both hands into fists to hide whatever shaking Mark had detected.
"It's just... my best friend is getting married today," you said quasi-casual, trying to make Mark laugh. "It's kind of a huge deal."
You looked up to see Mark's hair was flipping outward over his ears, and you used both your palms to flatten the hair, to push it back the way you knew Poppy liked it.
"Speaking of huge deals," Mark started, and for a second you made eye contact before stepping away. Off to find your make-up bag that you'd brought with you.
"When were you going to tell me that you've had Joe over at yours?"
Bent over your bag on the floor, your froze immediately. Who had said what to who and, what did Mark know?
He might not have known anything.
Just that Joe dropped you off at your flat the night of the stag do.
"Poppy told me," Mark continued after you hadn't moved from your position, hovering over your bag still, and you didn't know what to respond.
Of course Poppy had told Mark, because Joe had told her and Joe was the worst person alive, so that checked out. Of course that's what happened. The man couldn't tell his best friend about you sleeping in his bed fully dressed that one time, but this, this was fine.
Joe could go suck a thousand dicks.
"Joe said you kissed,"
Ah.
Just kissed, huh? Was that all he had said?
All right.
You cleared your throat and finally got back up, make-up bag in hand that you zipped open.
"We did."
You tried your bestest best to sound so very casual about it, but feared that the tone of your voice had just given away too much. You couldn't look Mark in the eye. Had to keep your eyes at the make-up bag in your hands as you searched for the lipstick that was a quintessential part of your look.
How did you ever think Mark wasn't going to see right through you?
"Do you like him?" Mark frowned through a small smile as he asked the careful question. There was no judgment. There was definitely confusion, though, and he stepped a little closer to not have this conversation across the whole room.
Did you like Joe?
Ugh.
Where to even fucking begin?
You bit both your lips into your mouth, squeezed the tube of lipstick in your fist and looked at Mark a second as he stopped right in front of you.
"Hey," he poked your arm with a finger by ways of showing affection, the way siblings would do. "It's okay if you do."
A loud, deep and very annoyed sigh left you as you frowned deeply, because you were meant be all angry with Joe, and you were, but, what the fuck? Yes. You liked him. It was confusing and infuriating, but you did. Joe had been weird and distant, but then also sweet and kind, and he'd hugged you and made sure you didn't have to walk home late at night all alone, and had let you spent the night in his bed and hadn't taken advantage, and then he had kissed you, and for three seconds, there had been more than kissing before all of it had ended and now...
Now?!
Now you wanted more.
Didn't people always want what they couldn't have?
Now wasn't the time, though.
Because today was about Mark and about Poppy and about them together.
Not about you. Or about Joe.
So you just shrugged, signaling that you didn't want to get into it and said, "Joe's a weirdo," which made Mark laugh. That, in turn, made you smile.
Mark looked good. Radiant and happy, tie all straight and his hair the way Poppy liked it.
"Got your vows?" you asked, trying to round this up, and thank fuck, Mark just went with it as he patted his chest over the pocket of his jacket.
"Rings?" you asked, holding your hand out, and for a moment, you were ready for a snarky comment. For the same joke you'd heard time and time again for months now. But it didn't come. Mark just went, "Yes," and found the little red box that held both wedding bands inside.
"Here you go. Guard it with your life."
"I will. Promise I won't–"
You were about to reference the joke yourself, but were interrupted by a knock on the door.
Mark went to answer it, and you stole the moment to quickly do your lipstick in the full sized mirror. Mark didn't look through the peephole before he opened the door, so there was zero warning, and you almost left a fat stripe of lipstick all across your cheek when you turned your head at the sound of his voice.
"Hey," Joe smiled politely, hand scratching the back of his head, in the middle of a deep breath. You could tell he was nervous.
Good.
"The bride has requested to talk to you,"
"Oh no, cold feet?" Mark joked and turned his head to find your face to laugh with you. Except you weren't laughing, because you were still applying lipstick and pretending that Joe wasn't standing in the doorway.
"Um- no, not you, sorry. Poppy needs some girl talk."
Poppy had seven bridesmaids.
Poppy probably hadn't had anything but girl talk all morning.
But sure. You could go talk to Poppy.
You didn't look Joe in the eye when you walked past Mark, touched his arm and said you'd see him in a bit. Told him he should probably also go see his parents before the ceremony, and snuck past Joe, who stepped aside and gave you all the space and then some. Which offended you.
He could've done whatever, actually, and it would have offended you.
As you made your way down the hallway, you heard Mark say, "Actually, now that I've got your here, can you..." before it trailed off and the door closed.
Interesting... not suspicious at all.
You had to promise yourself you weren't going to drive yourself insane today, weren't going to fret over what information Joe and Mark would share with each other, and instead went over the itinerary in your mind several times. It did a great job of calming you down a bit, especially since so far, everything was on schedule.
"I have a confession to make," Poppy blurted out the second you saw each other.
She looked gorgeous. Absolutely stunning.
"Uh oh," was all you managed to say before closing the door behind you.
"You are here for one reason, and one reason only, which is that Mark wanted to talk to Joe and I had to get you out of the room,"
You gave Poppy a blank stare before narrowing your eyes at her.
"What's with the secrecy... he could've just said–"
"They have... things to talk about," Poppy said, giving you a pointed look. "Don't they?"
You weren't sure what she was insinuating, but you had an inkling that she wanted you to spill the beans. Which you weren't going to do.
"Well... Mark's getting married to his best friend, I'm sure they've got lots to talk–"
"I've got another confession," Poppy frowned and waved a hand, dismissing what you'd tried to sell her would be their topic of conversation.
You couldn't help but frown deeply at her in response.
"I'm not sure I like all these confessions, Pop,"
"It's my wedding day," Poppy resonated, grabbing both of your hands in hers and wiggling them around a bit. "Let me get all of this out, please."
You closed your eyes and breathed through flared nostrils, keeping quiet, silently granting Poppy permission to confess whatever needed confessing.
You knew exactly what was coming.
"Joe told me you kissed."
"Yea, I gathered," you said flatly, letting unwilling laughter escape you when you opened your eyes to see Poppy biting down on her bottom lip to hide her excitement. This wasn't what you expected from her. "Mark let something slip earlier."
"No!" Poppy groaned immediately. "Ugh... Joe said I wasn't allowed to tell Mark, but Mark promised me he wouldn't tell you!"
It was official. This little group of grown ass whole adults could keep no secrets from each other, ever.
"Did um... did Joe tell you about what happened?" you tried, carefully, because this was meant to be Poppy's most important day ever and you didn't want to ruin it.
But your expression made hers falter.
"He didn't..." Poppy stared into space as she thought back a second. "But, to be fair, he told me you kissed and I... I kind of... even if he wanted to tell me more about it, he couldn't have, because I freaked out,"
You winced a little. Wanted to apologise, even though you knew within your soul you'd done nothing wrong.
"No, no, don't worry, it was the good kind of freak out. Are you joking? You and Joe? I knew something was up when I saw you hug outside that day, and now, this is so great, it's–"
"Pop..." you started, and shut her up instantly.
Besides the fact that you had never expected this reaction from her at all, Poppy clearly had only heard a very small little titbit of what had transpired that night. You wondered how Joe had even brought it up in conversation with her, and what the vibe had been.
Her eyebrows knitted together, copying yours, and you sighed.
"Oh no..." Poppy knew something was up. "What did he do?"
And yea, what did he do was the right question to ask, it kind of made your insides shriek. But this wasn't the time to answer it. Not the time to reveal to Poppy how her friend had done you wrong. Instead, you smiled and cupped Poppy's face with both your hands, told her she was beautiful and that today was about her and about Mark and that you'd talk about this later.
For a second it looked like Poppy wasn't going to accept the postponing, but an urgent raise of your eyebrows in question made her give you a little nod.
"Come here, you pretty bitch," you said, grinning wide before pulling her into a hug. "You look like a princess,"
"I feel like one," Poppy spoke, voice a little strained from how tight you squeezed her.
"I can't believe Mark gets to marry you," you said when you pulled back, and kind of meant it. Poppy was too good for him.
"Meh, we'll see," Poppy quipped. "I could still run." she shrugged one shoulder which made you laugh and then squeeze her even tighter than before. Poppy was far too good for him.
On your way back over to the groom's suite, you walked with stiff arms that held two hands with crossed fingers down at the end.
Please don't run into Joe. Please don't run into Joe. Please, don't run into Joe.
You turned a corner and...
There he was.
A mere few feet away from you.
For a split second you contemplated walking backwards, back around that corner, just, rewinding yourself in time and hiding somewhere so you wouldn't be forced to have whatever awkward exchange this was going to be. But Joe had seen you. You couldn't pretend you hadn't spotted each other, and so you didn't.
"Hey," Joe called, and it seemed a bit urgent. Like he was glad he had just ran into you.
You just gave him one of those polite nods. The kind you'd give a the driver of a car that stopped to let you cross at a zebra crossing. You even almost added the half-wave – just a raised hand with only the index finger flexed.
Joe'd stopped walking, but you were about to whizz right past him because you weren't going to do this – didn't want to do this.
But then Joe grabbed you by the arm and it stopped you in your tracks. His soft touch lit you full body on fire.
"This is yours," Joe said, holding out a white plastic card. The hotel key to the groom's suite. "Mark went to go see his parents."
You took it from him, eyes not meeting his. You couldn't.
"Listen, I need to– want to... I want to apologise, for– um, for not reaching out sooner, and, I mean, not that you–" Joe stumbled through his words and suddenly had to cough loudly after choking on his own spit. "Excuse me– sorry. I have to, um, apologise for–"
"Let's not..." you started and looked down at where Joe was still holding your arm.
Joe followed your gaze and startled himself, quickly letting go.
"Just... let's just stick to wedding stuff today, all right?" had this been a month ago, you'd have given Joe a polite smile at this point. But this wasn't a month ago. This was now, and Joe had humiliated you in the most extreme manner you had ever been humiliated – had left you dripping with your own arousal and his pre-cum with a full tit out in your kitchen. Said he'd see you around.
This didn't really count as around, you thought.
You saw how dismissing his attempt at an apology completely worked something behind his eyes before he gave you a quick nod.
"Yes," he looked down at his own feet a second before looking back up at you. "Of course. Did you– I sent over my speech, um, last week. Did you get–"
"Got it."
This chat needed to be over.
"You never replied."
"I didn't."
You couldn't muster up anything but coldness for Joe. Distance. The same type of harshness sharp by the edges that Joe had reserved for you for years. You were treating Joe the way he had treated you forever. It was kind of the only way to go about it, because you were angry and Joe needed to feel that you were angry, but you also knew, you fucking knew that the second you'd drop this hard exterior, you'd absolutely fold for this man.
"But I received it fine."
You would've stuck a thanks to the end of that sentence if you weren't so fucking stubborn.
"So, you ready for the day? Got your own speech? Got the rings?"
Oh, motherfucker thought he could be cute and joke, did he? You were mid-way through an eye roll when you suddenly stopped breathing.
No.
Your eyes grew twice its size.
No.
"What– what's wrong?"
You'd never quite felt a panic take completely hold of your entire being quite so fast. This was no slow-building storm but instead an instant raging tempest within your chest.
You were immediately sweating when you realised you didn't have the rings.
Where were the fucking rings?!
Mark had given you the rings, you'd applied your lipstick, and then you'd gone to visit Poppy in the bridal suite. Had you even taken them to the bridal suite?
Your chest constricted itself into a tightness you hadn't experienced so lucidly before, which made you only more aware of how fast your heart was beating and what the fuck was happening?
"Are you– Jesus, breathe," Joe grabbed you by both upper arms, and you spluttered through a big inhale, noticing the sudden heat within your face and why did it feel like you were on a rollercoaster ride hurtling towards an inevitable crash?
"The rings," you managed to squeak out before turning your head towards the bridal suite from which you came.
No.
It couldn't be in there.
You hadn't touched anything in there. Hadn't placed anything down anywhere. Groom's suite. It had to be in the groom's suite still.
"You lost the rings?"
Just for a second, you looked Joe in the eye, both entirely blank faced, faces reading nothing, before your brain managed to tell your legs to tell your feet to start moving and Joe let go of you.
Your dazed walk quickly turned into a frenzied run down the hotel corridors, and Joe followed you on your tail.
"Mark!" you called out, hurriedly knocking on the door when you reached it.
"Key, key, you've got the– use the key," Joe scrambled, about to take the plastic card from your hands, but you wildly evaded him and shakily opened the door yourself.
Inside, you immediately traced your own steps.
"Red box," you panted. "It's a little red box, square, rounded corners, bright, bright red,"
And without thinking, Joe started throwing pillows from the sofa, pulling sheets from the beds and tipping over whichever bin he could find.
The two of you turned the entire room upside down, all anger and awkwardness forgotten for a second.
But it was nowhere to be found.
No red box.
Fuck.
How could you mess up this fucking badly?
You felt your throat grow rigid, the panic intensifying and overwhelming you until it was too much to bear. Sliding both hands into your hair, you closed your fingers and pulled. You couldn't cry. Had to keep a level head. Think straight.
Mark was going to murder you.
You couldn't cry.
"Let's hit the bridal suite," Joe said, jumping from the bed, over the covers that were now splayed out across the floor, jogging past you towards the door.
"They've got to be either here, or there," Joe reasoned, and you knew he was right, but... but what if he wasn't?
"Come on," Joe said, beckoning you, and you were about to blindly follow him when suddenly, he stopped. He froze completely and you nearly crashed into him.
Voices.
Mark and Poppy.
No.
Joe pushed you back inside and quickly closed the door. You saw him look behind you, the room a full mess, and then, without much thinking, opened the coat closet to his side that he then shoved you into.
"What– Joe!"
"Quiet!"
Joe pushed you deeper into the closet, following you inside before quickly and quietly closing the doors behind you. It was all just in time, as you heard the small beep from the door unlocking as Mark and Poppy walked into the suite.
They called out for you and for Joe, and you could heard Mark go, "Jesus, what happened in here?"
All you could think about was that Poppy and Mark weren't supposed to even see each other before the ceremony. Not because anyone thought it would be bad luck, they didn't buy into that shit, but because you knew Poppy, and Poppy wanted that big entrance, that big reveal that would get Mark all choked up.
You were about to step out, about to say something, but Joe sensed it and so with both arms he held you in place, folding one palm right over your mouth so you wouldn't make a peep.
Your eyes were still adjusting to the dark, and you could barely make out Joe's face, but everything felt like he was being absolutely serious.
So there you were, pressed up against each other, both bodies impossibly tense, wholly focused on staying quiet.
"Well, they've clearly been in here," you could hear Poppy say.
"What the–" Mark's voice sounded far away, and you could picture him walking around the entire suite, taking in the mess that you and Joe had just created mere seconds ago.
"Did they fight? Like, full fisticuffs you think?"
"No, I think they were looking for this, look," you could practically hear the smile in Poppy's voice, and inside the closet, you and Joe frowned at each other.
"What are you..." Mark gasped. "Poppy! How did you get a hold of those?"
No fucking way.
You had touched one thing in the bridal suite. You had touched Poppy.
You peeled Joe's fingers from your face to mouth, "the rings," at him with wild eyes. As a precaution Joe raised his fingers up to his mouth, signaling you to stay quiet. Which you were. Joe could fuck off.
"Took them,"
"No, babe... that's not funny–"
"It's not meant to be funny, it's meant to create a little hiccup that–"
"A little hiccup?!"
"Mark, listen! Think about it... who is going to help her find them?"
Jesus fucking Christ.
Poppy could fuck off too.
"You're aware she's going to stab you with the cake knife later if she ever finds out about this?"
"She won't get the chance to, because she'll be too busy making out with Joe."
A silence fell within the hotel suite, and you were suddenly very aware of how the enclosed space you were in started growing hotter.
"Mark, he's been in love – like, actual love with her for fucking ages, if we don't help them out at least a little, nothing's ever going to happen,"
What the fuck?!
You saw in real time how Joe went from looking all stern, fully focussed on making sure that you kept quiet in every sense of the word, to his full face scrunching up before his head dropped down entirely, nearly head-butting you in the process.
"It's my wedding day. I deserve this." Poppy continued, and you heard Mark scoff.
"And I'm sure that for today, you'll be excused. But there's going to be a tomorrow," Mark was ever the voice of reason.
Meanwhile, Joe hoped the coat closet was dark enough for you not to see how his entire face had turned beet-red, or how his heart was trying to jump its way out of his chest. He still had you wrapped up in his hold, so he logically understood there was no hiding anything.
But still. Joe could hope.
"You know what he said to me?"
Fuck, fuck. Poppy shut the fuck up.
Joe was about to move his hands to cover your ears, but in a small scramble, you managed to grab hold of both his wrists and pushed them down.
Joe's elbow nearly knocked into the panel behind him.
"He said he cares too much, like, cares about her, and that he just wants to hold her hand and kiss her over the eyelids... he wants to kiss her eyes, Mark. You've never kissed me on the eyes before."
"Come here,"
"No! It's too late for you!"
"Too late?! We're getting married!"
Outside of the closet, the mood turned playful and you heard Poppy shriek followed by footsteps that chased each other.
Inside the coat closet, the air was thick. You were so aware of your breathing, of where your bodies were touching, and of Joe's eyes on you. He looked mortified.
"You care too much?" you mouthed, completely inaudible but for the movement your tongue made within your mouth.
Joe nodded, but it was careful. Insecure, almost.
You frowned and shook your head.
Joe couldn't care too much. Joe was a friend of a friend who never really took to you. Always remained aloof and stand-offish. Was weird around you. Made no contact, and then when he did, made misplaced jokes.
"You left me,"
Joe closed his eyes, and in the little light that the doors let in, you could see his jaw tense and nostrils flare.
"I didn't want to hurt you," Joe let a little bit of his whispered voice slip through as he spoke on an exhale
Your frown deepened.
"I care," Joe followed up, completely silent again, and for a moment the two of you listened to Poppy and Mark going around and putting the room back together. Shuffling of duvets, thumps of cushions being thrown, and had you not been staring into Joe's eyes whilst being pressed up against him in a space far too small for two adults to spend this much time in, you would've stopped them. They were in their wedding outfits. Tidying a hotel suite ahead of their own wedding. What the fuck were they doing?
But it just so happened to be that you were staring into Joe's eyes whilst being pressed up against him in a space far too small for two adults to spend this much time in. And then Joe's lashes fluttered as he looked down at your lips and...
Joe was in love with you?
Had that registered properly?
Were you able to process that right now?
Fingers then curled around your neck, and soft palms pressed up underneath your jaw.
For a moment, you just stood like that. Shaky breaths, trying to stay quiet still, and God, it was so fucking hot in there.
But there was not a chance you were going to break away now.
This coat closet suddenly was the exact right place you needed to be.
You were already so tense, were still sweating from the panicked search for the rings, and then tension built up even further as your noses touched.
"I care,"
You automatically closed your eyes and let your mouth fall open in a little gasp before you kissed Joe. It felt like he'd been waiting, because the frevour with which he returned the kiss was on a whole different level. Joe guided your head, turned it so he got the best access and licked his way into your mouth like a starved man.
It made all tension slip off of you.
The shakes you had earlier, when you had help Mark get ready? You could feel them pour from your finger tips. The anxiety you'd felt when you'd ran into Joe in the corridor? Ran down your frame like water off a duck's back.
Joe was making out with you, and it was a perfect push and pull of hot breath, wet lips and soft tongues.
It was really fucking hot, and you allowed yourself to forget everything for a second.
You couldn't forget that you had to stay quiet.
No noises allowed.
You couldn't make any sounds. If you didn't, this would last longer, so you really tried.
Your hands found Joe's hair, and you let your fingers slip into it, scraping his scalp as you did and it made Joe pull your face back a little.
"Don't," he mouthed, worried he was going to be the one to make a noise, but dove back into your mouth immediately.
It made your knees nearly give out. You were folding. Folding hard, and folding fast.
So.
You knew you were hiding in a closet with two of your friends on the other side of the doors somewhere still, but, how much convincing would you need to do to let Joe finish what he'd started weeks ago?
The second you thought it, you heard Joe's throat stutter.
Probably not a lot, then.
You wrapped both arms around Joe's neck and were about to hike up a leg, let Joe know what you wanted from him, but, that ruined everything.
Because your knee knocked into the panel behind Joe loudly.
The two of you stilled instantly, and your face grimaced. That hurt, but moreso, that was far too loud for Mark and Poppy not to have heard.
Shit.
You waited in complete silence, frozen on the spot, breaths held, both with huge eyes, and listened for a reaction.
But you got none.
It was silent in the hotel suite, and for a moment, you considered just opening the door and peeking out. Maybe they had left already. There was a huge chance you hadn't noticed.
But then, footsteps.
"Okay, let's go!" Poppy said, her voice raised to a volume it didn't need for Mark to hear her.
"The ceremony is in about half an hour, best not be late!" Mark replied, uncharacteristically chipper, voice becoming louder as he walked right past the coat closet that held the two of you inside.
You were holding your breath for fear of Mark hearing you and pulling open the doors to reveal the two of you completely entangled with each other.
That didn't happen though.
Instead, you heard the door open, heard them walk out, and then heard the door fall shut.
It took less than a second for the two of you to fall out of the closet into the cool air of the hotel suite.
And there it was.
Sat right in the middle of the hotel suite, promptly placed centre stage so you couldn't possibly miss it.
The red ring box.
Fuck.
They had obviously heard you.
You picked it up and turned to show Joe, but when you made eye-contact, the both of you gasped.
Your lipstick was fucking everywhere.
Joe looked shocked and anticipated your panicked state to fully grab a hold of you again. He was ready to go straight back into apologising. Reassuring. Calming you down. Comforting you.
But then you burst out into laughter.
This was so stupid.
Joe didn't know if you were laughing at the absurdity of the situation, or if you were laughing at what he looked like with lipstick smeared all over his face. He didn't care. You were laughing, and it felt like genuine, honest laughter. Sounded like music.
"Come here," you said and beckoned him to follow you into the bathroom where you still couldn't stop the giggles as you opened a packet of make-up wipes.
"Oh Jesus," you said when you saw your own reflection, and the laughter picked up once more.
Joe couldn't help but laugh along.
This was a delicious way to break any and all tension, and Joe knew he'd be apologising for... well, for forever. But it'd be worth it.
You knew Joe loved you now.
With a smile still plastered on your face, you took hold of Joe by the chin and with a wipe wrapped around your fingers, started cleaning off the maroon smudges.
"My eyelids, Joe?"
Joe grimaced, but let out a huffed laugh as he did. He blushed and looked down as he pursed his lips, trying to minimize the smile he had going.
"Well, anywhere, really," Joe couldn't lie. He didn't just want to kiss you on the eyelids. He kind of wanted to kiss you all over.
His answer made your breath hitch in your throat as your face slowly fell.
Joe was in love with you.
You didn't understand how that could be true. How that could even work.
Joe didn't say anything, but watched as the cogs turned in your head and you stared right at his chest with the make-up wipe hovering in front of him for a moment.
Joe was in love with you.
Suddenly your snapped back up at him.
"I'm still mad at you,"
"Yes, of course," Joe immediately accepted the fact that you were.
"That's going to take me a minute,"
"I'll make it up to you," Joe smiled sweetly as his eyebrows knitted together.
He looked cute like that.
"I'm not sure if you can,"
Another silence lingered, and you decided it didn't need more words from you. So you got back to ridding Joe's face off of your make-up, and then bent closer towards the mirror and cleaned up your own face. Joe gazed at you intently as you did, and when you made eye-contact through the mirror, he loudly cleared his throat and pretended something needed doing outside of the bathroom.
Joe was an idiot.
Made you smile.
Ugh. Fuck.
Yea all right. You guessed Joe's awkwardness could be cute now, or whatever.
Jesus Christ.
You finished redoing your lipstick, and you could still faintly see how the smears had stained your skin, but this was going to have to do.
You were going to go down and get through this wedding and pretend nothing had happened and you were ready for it. Were going to power through this. You were tough. And strong. You were going to give a killer speech, make sure the cake cutting happened at the right exact time, and would get enough people to fill out the dance floor in the right amount of time with the right music playing.
You were an amazing best man, and this was the time to really fucking prove it to everyone.
You stepped out of that bathroom, chest puffed out, shoulders pushed back with your back as straight as you were going to get it.
You felt like superwoman.
"Ready? Let's go." you didn't wait for Joe to answer as you marched towards the door.
"Um," Joe said, and you heard the soft snap of the ringbox closing.
"Oh my God,"
You were an idiot.
Joe threw you the box, and you caught it with one hand, impressing yourself as well as Joe. You gave the small little red box a once over in your palm as Joe walked past you, opening the door before stepping aside to let you through first.
"Hey,"
Joe stopped you right in the doorway, fingers around your arm the way Joe always seemed to stop you.
You looked at each other a second, and you could see his eyes flick down towards your lips again.
"Fresh lipstick, Joe," you commented, but couldn't help the curling of the corners of your mouth.
"I didn't say anything," Joe feigned innocence. Pretended he didn't want to bend down to give you another kiss. But in a second, you'd be at Mark and Poppy's wedding and it would be all about them.
About Mark and Poppy. About Poppy and Mark. Not about you. Or about him. Or about you and him. Him and you.
And you felt it. Felt what Joe felt. Almost wished you didn't, but not because you didn't want to, but because the timing of it was so awful.
"Here,"
You had an idea. A risky one. But you were going to go for it. Because Joe was in love with you.
You took hold of his wrist, and raised Joe hand to your mouth where you pressed a soft kiss right into his palm.
It made Joe groan as you made eye-contact with him.
You checked and saw you left a perfect kiss print on his skin, and just to be a little gross, because you really were angry with him still, you followed it up with a quick lick. It made Joe pull back his hand as he laughed.
"Let's go," you fought a smile of your own as you both left the hotel suite, ready to make your way down to see your best friends get married to each other.
Joe was in love with you.
And you couldn't fucking believe it, and definitely weren't going to admit it. Not to Joe. Not to yourself. Not to anyone. Not today, at least.
But Joe was in love with you, and you were in love with Joe.
Joe was in love with you.
And you were in love with Joe.
---
(just letting you know, once again, this is NOT the end, there WILL be a final part!)
---
The Taglisted:
@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-eddie @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsmunson @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl
(taglist currently full, sorry)
#Joe Quinn#Joseph Quinn#Joe Quinn x You#Joseph Quinn x You#Joe Quinn x Reader#Joseph Quinn x Reader#Joe Quinn Fanfic#Joe Quinn fanfiction#Joseph Quinn Fanfic#Joseph Quinn Fanfiction#rpf#icallhimjoey#To Have And To Scold#joe quinn x y/n#joseph quinn x y/n#part 10
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In defense of a line crosser
In episode six of Hidden Agenda, Joke crossed several lines. Kot told him he was being too demanding, Wave told him he was being rude, and Zo told him he was being aggressive.
But in Joke's defense, Joke isn't merely crossing lines; he is trying to break through the barriers Zo continues to enclose himself in.
Because although Zo will toe the line, he never fully crosses it, so Joke has to get inside somehow, so he can be with Zo.
For example, when Zo is witnessing the couple walking in the rain, he clearly has his walls up with a hard barrier between him and love.
Yet when Joke shows up as Zo is trying to leave without him, Joke has to enter Zo's space in order to be inside with Zo. Even when Joke provides shelter and safety, Zo is reluctant.
Even with his friends, Zo never fully puts down his defenses.
Unlike Nita's situation where the barriers and boundaries are absolutely necessary,
Zo is constantly on the edge of his own barriers, only to back off without warning,
Which requires Joke to close the distance.
And most of the time, Zo, who cozies up to the line, makes little fuss when Joke crosses it.
Yet when Joke crosses the line between the two colored panels later in front of others,
Zo exits the space quickly leaving Joke to figure out why his behavior was acceptable before but not now.
And this is the core of Joke's line crossing - the lines keep moving according to Zo's feelings.
Zo even tells Joke something to this effect when he lectures Joke about his behavior, in front of others.
Because Zo tells Joke that he needs to respect boundaries, but it's difficult to do so when Zo isn't clear about those boundaries.
When Zo is upset, the barriers emerge
but the moment Joke concedes, they are in Zo's barriers together.
If Zo initiates an action, the camera doesn't stay still.
It pans between the two, so no definite barriers exist.
But the moment Joke asks Zo to stay and to clarify his feelings for Joke, the camera stops moving, and the barriers become clear.
So, once again, Joke has to be the one to cross them in order to get some sense of resolution from Zo before Zo exits the space.
And this is a huge problem.
Zo will kiss Joke, then avoid him. Zo will say he is fine, but run away in the middle of the night. Zo will tell Joke to be himself, but not in front of others. Zo will get close to the line, but won't commit to crossing it. Joke has to interpret everything Zo does.
Because history has proven that Zo's boundaries can be moved with a little nudge.
Joke didn't win enough games to achieve the prize of Zo opening his heart to him, yet in the end, Zo wore the "Game Over Lover" shirt to bed indicating Zo was trying on the idea of it.
So even though the boys are sticking to their respective color-coded drinks,
It seems like next week Joke will push his way past Zo's defenses once again
allowing Zo to finally cross a line or two.
Because if Zo keeps putting barriers between himself and the outside world, while Joke keeps crossing all the lines, someone is going to end up hurt.
#hidden agenda#barriers and boundaries#episode 6#joke x zo#the 30 image limit is rude#there were so many barriers this episode!
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Drabble request: post-canon "happy" ending for Bill & Ford, but find some way to imply that something super fucked up is going on just beneath the surface. Mind control, dream bubble fantasy, idk, dealer's choice, just something messed up.
Fragments of what was once Earth drift through the empty vacuum of space. They sit together on a summoned-up couch, watching it all float by. Ford fidgets with his brand new eye-shaped gold cufflinks. His ornately-embroidered sleeves are drenched in blood.
The henchmaniacs are busy elsewhere, expanding their reign of benevolent terror to the outer reaches of the galaxy. This mostly entails eating space rocks and crashing planets into eachother. For the first time since Ford accepted Bill’s offer, they’ve had time to really sit down and chat.
Bill throws an arm over Ford’s shoulder. “Lemme tell you something, Sixer. It doesn’t really matter how necessary it was–and believe me, it was necessary! What matters more is that it was the most fun you’ll ever have! Now that you’re immortal, I won’t sugarcoat it: Earth’s entire existence is a blip in the grand scheme of things. It was like a really dry log: destined to be burned!” He pats Ford on the back. “So don’t let me catch you moping about it.”
“I’m not moping,” Ford bristles, leaning away from Bill’s touch. “I’m contemplating.”
“Hah! Contemplating! You hear this guy?” Bill asks an imaginary audience, gesturing at Ford with his thumb. “Well contemplate this: we’ve got ultimate power over the entire multiverse. You might as well be a god. You can spend an eternity studying everything that ever was and ever will be. This is a sweet deal no matter how you spin it!”
Ford makes a noncommital sound. “That very well may be true, and I am grateful to you, but… human emotion is not so easy to logic away, I’m afraid. I want to move on as easily as you did, but…” he shrugs helplessly. “It’s just hard to believe it’s gone.”
Bill pats him on the back. “A little bit of shock is normal! Took me a few weeks to work through. Of course, I was brand new to the third dimension too, so it shouldn’t take quite that long for you. But humans are more emotional than shapes, so I’ll be patient! Don’t say I never did anything for ‘ya.”
Ford doesn’t meet his eyes. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Now! You know what helps me when I’m like this? A good distraction! There’s bound to be dozens of my enemies tracking us down right now–it’s not exactly hard to miss a whole planet blowing up. So we’d better get a head start on things, attack first before any of them can put us on the defensiv-” Bill squints at something approaching from the distance. “Hey, what’s that?”
Ford looks up sharply. It takes a few seconds to spot it, but as it gets closer, it’s unmistakable: a steely-gray entirely flat object, no more than two feet wide and long, flying towards them.
Once it’s right between them, it slows to a stop. From above, it’s clearly shaped like a 2D spacecraft, except that all four walls are enclosed, not just the perimeter.
A stick-thin door opens up, and out floats a dozen multicolored geometric shapes, all with skin covering their bodies from above and below, not just around their perimeter.
For the first time in eons, Bill is too stunned to speak a single word.
The leader of the group, a irregularly-shaped silver isoceles triangle, speaks first. “It’s you! It’s really you! We were starting to think you died in the aftermath of our dimension’s death. But the energy signals we’ve been following over the past week… we knew it couldn’t be anyone else.”
Bill’s voice is very quiet, and much less echoey than usual, as he says, “I thought you all died. I made sure you all died.”
The little silver triangle laughs. “Nope! The cleverest of us were able to escape. Your destruction only took the lives of those unwilling to change, unwilling to adapt to the higher dimensions. And the lives we’ve led since then have been so much better than anything our homeworld could have ever offered to us. We owe you a great deal.”
As he listens to this, Bill glows brighter and brighter and brighter, until he’s glowing the brightest that he’s ever been. “I knew it! I knew the worthy ones would live, I knew there was a way out for ones like you!”
He turns to Ford with a brilliant gleam in his eye. “Ford, these are survivors from my home dimension! Do you know how long it’s been? At least a trillion years! These guys are persistent. More than worthy of joining the gang, right Ford?”
Ford looks just as overjoyed as Bill. “Absolutely—but this is incredible! Liberating my dimension didn’t just give me an eternity at your side, but it’s also allowed these shapes to finally find you!” He shakes his head in wonder. “This whole time, you were right, Bill. You were right about everything. If our first act as joint-rulers of the multiverse can accomplish something of this scope, then there’s nothing we can’t accomplish together.”
Bill embraces Ford in a hug that sends them both twirling through outerspace. “Isn’t it exhilirating? Being free from all those stupid little ties to a planet that’ll be dead and gone in the blink of an eye?”
Ford nods wholeheartedly. “There’s a whole multiverse out there for the taking. You’ve finally made me see that.”
He lets go of Bill, and looks back at the handful of shapes floating nearby. “You must have so many questions. I know I do. But I’ll let you catch up with Bill, first.”
Bill zooms back to face the shapes. “Boy do I ever!!! How long do you guys live now that you’ve adapted yourselves to a three-dimensional world, because we’re gonna be here for a while.”
The group settles in for a very long chat, exchanging stories and ideas and many cups of tea. And way off in the distance, far out of Bill’s line of sight, his little world’s edge glimmers with the iridescence of a soap bubble.
#gods drabbles#100 word requests#<-which are still open#just ignore the fact that this is 1000 words long lmao#i hope the implications are clear as far as what the concept is#the axolotl thinks this is a mercy :)#first thing i had to decide was 'is this a happy ending in bill or fords eyes' bc postcanon those are very different#and then i repurposed a scrapped idea for the beginning of my unwritten bill-brought-back-to-life fic#bill cipher
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I have been having this thot for a while
just imagine hoshi having a crush on cheol's gf, keeping it a secret from everyone, being hurt whenever he sees them together acting all lovey dovey with each other.
he knows that they love eachother but he cant help but think that if, what if it was him insted of cheol, loving u, kissing u, taking care of u, making love to u.
he didnt realize when his soft pure feelings for u turned into this intense passionate lust to make u his and his only.
having wet dreams about u two having this almost animalistic sex, he cant help but jerk off in the middle of the night.
oh....oh my.. the more i read on, the messier this got and yet i can't help but wish i found myself in a situation like this.... let me write you all the closest we'll get to this. and anon
pairing: soonyoung x reader (indirectly)
warnings: soonyoung is downright delulu for oc, shit ton of jealousy, fantasies of infidelity (fucking another man's girl), use of the nickname (sooyoo) and pet names (baby, sweetie, honey) NUMEROUS times, oc has size kink(loves how big sooyoo is, with that said...), dig bick soonyoung, "oblivious" cheol, lowkey not so humble bragger (loves letting everybody know 'you're his' type shit) cheol, jihoon & jeonghan feature, alcohol consumption, sorta subspace soonyoung??? (not proof read)
Open Arms - Kwon Soonyoung
soonyoung lazily turned the front door knob to his dark and cold apartment. The silence that enclosed him in the space made it all the more apparent that for yet another night, he was lonely and you were far from being his. the smell of his spirit-tainted clothes and mouth, clinging to him the way he'd hoped your body would've by the end of the night.
it's not that soonyoung wasn't happy for his friend seungcheol... actually, that's exactly what it was. he himself was taken aback by just how sincere-sounding his laughing along with everyone throughout dinner was, as you recalled how seungcheol had forgotten to transfer yours and his photos of your recent vacation from the disposable camera before he absent-mindedly threw it away this morning.
"well, excuse me, miss 'let's get a disposable camera to embody a true traveller's lifestyle' tsk" he pitched his voice a few octaves higher to mimic your statement from two weeks back. "ok bitch, first of all, I don't sound like that," you pinched seungcheol's cheek, leaving him scrunching his face in what the rest of the group members couldn't help but laugh off and interpret as pure agony "ow! damn what'd you pinch me for?" soonyoung rolled his eyes, "sickening..." he murmured to himself, dragging out a sip of his chilled bourbon, "and secondly, it's not my fault they haven't figured out a way to make 'em automatically transfer to your phone?! you'd know if what you had bothered to read the instructions token, mister" you playfully huffed.
"yeah, well, that'll teach us to never buy a two-dollar camera again. besides, I've got all those pretty pictures of you engraved in my mind" he chuckled, coming teasingly close to you, soonyoung with a frown less than containable, paying careful attention to the hand that danced its way around your waist from above the table. the hold on his glass visibly tightening, "ehem..." jeonghan pulled him from the boiler room of his thoughts. "you know, I never took you for the jealous kind." he jeered. "oh yeah? that obvious is it?" he placed his glass down on the table, the ice having burned his hand from how long it cupped it. "well, we've changed the conversation about three times and you've been staring at the...lack of a gap between cheol and y/n's waists for the past three minutes or so" his eyes now back to momentarily facing the place of general conversation, returning to see a ticked-off soonyoung. "c'mon aren't you of all people even a little grossed out by the excessive amount of pda right now?" he gestured his hand to the direction of yourself and seungcheol, who currently were giggling to yourselves about whatever seungcheol fucked up this time around. "I dunno, I think they're kinda cute" jeonghan teasingly knocked his shoulder against soonyoung's. he lived for the sole purpose of annoying his friends, and soonyoung was no exception.
"I'm gonna go get some fresh air." he abruptly stood up from the table, all eyes now on him, a mix of unphased and all-the-more apparent confusion splashed across the table's faces. "everything alright, sooyoo?" your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, glossy pillowy lips turned down all just the same. oh, how his heart ached and his ears perked all at once at the nickname. expression softening at your concern "just peachy!" a wide grin making its way unknowingly across his face, "let us know if you need anything bud." your boyfriend just couldn't help himself could he. always feeling the need to butt in and ruin things. the sweet gaze you'd bestowed him, he'd quickly tattooed in his mind, now turned bitter by cheol's genuine remark of concern. "will do." soonyoung thumbed up, not even turning to face cheol as he walked out the door.
"what was that about?" jihoon now sat adjacent to jeonghan, filling soonyoung's seat, "mmhhm," he shrugged, "something about bitter and sweet..."
it had only occurred to him now as he replayed the night's events that he'd never actually turned back and had gotten all the way home. "fuck..." he muttered. too drained physically and emotionally to turn back and apologize for taking long, even though the bar was across the street. "what's that asshole have that I don't?" he thought, taking his shoes off before placing them on their spotlit shelf before hurriedly moving to the primary bathroom. now disrobing himself and hopping into the shower, the tension leaving his body as the steam fogged up the glass of the box and mirrors.
he thought the anxiety had fully rid itself from him, only for it to creep back once he'd made his way out of the shower to see two notifications from you, one being a missed call. his mind raced, thinking of how upset or hurt you must've been for him to have walked out, judging by the time, he was almost certain dinner was long over by now. he hesitantly played the voice note, only to be pleasantly surprised with your honey-coated voice and the soft humming of the car. "hey sooyoo, you left your coat on your seat and you weren't back by the time dinner wrapped up so cheollie and I took your coat for you." a humph of satisfaction erupting from him but your boyfriend's nickname left a bitter taste in his mouth. "hey bud,' the male's voice interjected, blaring through the phone's speaker, turning the volume down in annoyance he continued to listen "y/n thought about dropping it off for you but we'll swing by tomorrow. i told her, knowing your rowdy ass, you're probably not even home yet so we figured we wouldn't bother you." he chuckled, to which soonyoung involuntarily rolled his eyes in distaste. "anyways sooyoo, drink some water and get some rest. we'll see you tomorrow around noon-ish... if you ever need anybody to talk to...I'm here."
he was in agony. oh, how badly he wished you wouldn't speak to him as a mere friend, how he craved for there to be space to drop the formalities, so desperate for you that he'd let you speak to him wherever and however you wanted. he loved your cute voice, how it deepened a bit in your fits of rage, how raspy and raw he'd imagine it to be if you had chosen to spend the night with him. in all the apparentness of his loneliness, the closest he had to physical consolement being his silk pjs and his weighted blanket. their respective embraces only prompting him to shift deep into thought.
how he wished it were him instead of seungcheol whose arms you found solace in. how he wished you'd laugh at his jokes with nearly as much relish as you did your boyfriend's. how he wished you wouldn't have to enlighten him of your support of him, how if it was you and him, you'd be there with open arms, and without the exchange of a single word, he'd fall into them as you encasing him tightly with your plush arms. he yearned for your kisses peppering his face as tears rolled down his soft cheeks. he ached for your words of comfort.
"it's ok baby, i'm right here." you rubbed his head, pampering him with soft pats and rubs along his back. "I'm all yours, I promise." you spoke softly to him, not wanting to break the intimate bubble encasing the two of you. "mine?" he sniffled staring into your eyes, the eyes that only softened when they saw him. the eyes he got lost in frequently upon your encounters. wanting nothing more but to drown in your pupils. "mhm." you agreed with a soft smile which only ever melted his heart. you found yourselves in his bedroom, standing at the foot of the bed, angling your head to close the gap between the two of you "but what about seungcheol?" the feeling of jealousy now replaced with genuine concern "like I said baby, I'm all yours." hesitance soon forgotten as he leaned in, your lips even softer than that of what he imagined, hints of cocoa now smothered on his top lip from your gloss, not that he minded.
he was in ecstasy, the one person he ached for most in this world, was right in front of him. he'd long forgotten seungcheol whose obliviousness he chuckled at, as he replayed your words in his head "yours..."
soon after, your figure was sandwiched between his thighs. his towel licking a long stripe up his length, your doe eyes staring up into his through your B9 false lashes, too lazy from the night's festivities to remove your makeup, you summoned the remainder of your energy to make him feel special and feel special he did, the maintenance of eye contact sending a shudder along his spine. "you're so nice and big honey, " you tease, leaving a kiss on his tip, staining it with your lip gloss "can barely fit you in my hands, let alone my mouth." soonyoung's chest heaving in desperation at this point. you'd teased him for what had only been a mere 45-second interval but to him, resembled a century. "please baby, don't tease." the sight of his own tip flushed an angry pink tone, precum threatening to leak and splotches of your glittery lip gloss had him ready to explode.
"so impatient..." you slapped his thigh lightly, his abs flexing upon the sting post-contact. before he could get another word in, you sunk your mouth onto his length for the first time that evening. "oh fuck," the sight of you so eager to please him, and so abruptly too had him in a frenzy. "I knew your pretty mouth was good for more than just talking" the globs of spit that remained on the sides of his cock each time you glided up soon forming a pool at its base. you collected some and used it as lube to tug at the parts of him you couldn't fit. "just like that, sweetie" he praised you as your hand and mouth worked rhythmically in unison. the pet name had your pussy drooling. you were so cock-hungry, the portion of him you already had filling your mouth wasn't enough. you took it upon yourself to push yourself all the way down on him, nose touching his pelvic bone and his tip reaching the far back of your throat "fuck that's it, baby, fuck-, just like that sweetie" soonyoung was nothing short of a gentleman, he wasn't one to be a pusher but he couldn't help but to be eager. especially when you sucked him off so good.
tears welled in your eyes as you repeated the motion, you wanted your baby to feel good, judging by how his hitched breathing and whines got more audible, you were doing a great job. "fuck sweetie, I love you so much" the rambling mess he'd become was a clear indication he was close, a few more tugs of his cock and you had him cumming all over your pretty face. the sight made his cock twitch. being the freak he was, he wanted nothing more than to kiss you, creamy white goodness and all.
the only thing stopping him was the sudden knock on the front door. pulling him into a void of post-nut clarity, allowing him to open his eyes to the pathetic sight of his empty, now un-fitted sticky bed sheet, with the only token of gratitude, he imagines you to have left him being a new stain on his favourite ivory satin sheet.
"well shit..."
AN: AHHHHHHH my first full length fic, fucking hell i'm so excited for you all to read this. like WHAT? I ACTUALLY LIKE MY WORK FOR ONCE (I'll definitely come back to proof-read my work in the morning and be like "what the fuck?").
to the person who mad this request. thank you so much my love, you;ve helped me regain my confidence and I'm so very sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you, I know you asked me in the early parts of this year and I just couldn't pull myself out of this slump. thank you and I hope you like it.
much love to you all and keep requesting!
xoxo,
gossip girl... just kidding
1-800-ye0sangspr1ncess.
#kpop#smut#fluff#angst#headcannon#drabble#fic#seventeen#choi seungcheol#yoon jeonghan#joshua hong#hong jisoo#wen junhui#hunhui#wen jun#kwon soonyoung#jeon wonwoo#lee jihoon#lee seokmin#kim mingyu#xu minghao#boo seungkwan#chwe hansol#hansol chwe#vernon chwe#chwe vernon#lee chan#lee dino#svt#svt smut
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Compartmentalizing
So I was re-watching Step By Step Episode 10 yesterday when I started to notice something. I was planning on writing about it today, but @chicademartinica beat me to the punch line.
HOWEVER! There is more I can build off of here and so I am gonna!
I was talking with @shortpplfedup today and she started a fabulous analysis of Jeng that I hope she will post…
When she mentioned that Jeng was trying to compartmentalize Pat from the rest of his life, and both of these things (chica’s post and Nini’s brilliance) spoke to an observation I had also had, and that I touched on in my post the other day.
Boxes.
Last week @respectthepettymade a wonderful post about how Jeng has always been boxed in, separate from Pat and the rest, and how the preview for Episode 10 had Jeng stepping past that barrier line
and well, you would think that after crossing that barrier, that Jeng and Pat would no longer be confined. You’d think that they’d have eliminated everything that was holding them back…
But instead, every single scene with Jeng and Pat together boxes them in. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.
And I AM TEARING AT THE CURTAINS BECAUSE OF IT
Scene 1
Pat has his third eye opened thanks to everyone’s favorite Gay Fairy Godmother, Chot and has decided it is time to get over the hang ups he has and be honest with Jeng about his feelings. It is Jeng’s birthday, so on the way to confess his mutual interest, he stops to get a cake (#anticarrotcake for those of you on tumblr following the carrot cake wars)
Pat is boxed in by the display case looking at a cake he is going to get for Jeng.
Scene 2
Pat arrives at the kitchen, and calls after Jeng, who at first remains with his back fully turned, unable to look in Pat’s direction. Until he gets the courage to turn around and
Here Jeng is, in his little box, all alone, but here Pat comes, approaching the edge of the barrier, stepping right up to the line
And collapsing over it, entering Jeng’s space, entering Jeng’s world, barreling right into it face first.
And that is where he and Jeng will stay for the entire episode, inside their own box, inside their own little world.
Scene 3
They finish eating each other and eat cake instead and are immediately trapped together here, walls on either side as they start navigating being openly affection with each other (and perform a phone screen ad) they don’t know it yet, but they’ve already sealed the fate on, and created an inevitable downfall for themselves…at this point though, they’ve merely missed the “turn back, unstable ground ahead” sign.
Scene 4
X amount of time passes and we see Pat and Jeng trying (and failing) to be discreet at the office, going so far as to hold hands, touch arms and legs, and play footsie under the desk
This is a little less obvious of a box but the arms of their office chairs and the side of the desk create a box inside of which their physical affection for one another can exist.
Scene 5
Work ends, Pat and Jeng get in Jeng’s car and the entire day’s worth of unrestrained sexual tension comes crashing together.
Here we actually end up getting a double box, with Pat and Jeng enclosed by the car window, and Jeng’s car, existing as a current space for intimacy with Pat is also sitting in between two barriers (the window support structures in the background). They have had to spend the entire day being aware of the people around them, and while they have ultimately failed to be completely separate in the office, the second they are alone, they re-enter their own little world. Closed off from everything around them.
Scene 6
Jeng is openly flirting with Pat during office badminton, and being so obvious about it that his assistant notices and Chot has to bail him out by asking Jeng for water too so it won’t look like he is favoring Pat. Notably, the three queer men in the office are closed in, closed off from the rest of the group, in their own world. Keep the fact that Chot can enter their box in mind as we continue.
(Chot's hair in this scene is one of the best parts of the episode)
This moment, these barriers are where Jeng and Pat have no longer accidentally missed the “turn back now, unstable ground” sign on their path of doom, but have found caution tape and ducked underneath it to press on.
Scene 7
We cut to Jeng’s condo, and the first image we see is of Pat standing alone inside the double barrier, admiring the view in front of him, we’re about to start heading towards Pat’s office homophobia journey and we’re getting a little foreshadowing here that Jeng is going to end up leaving Pat to his own devices.
But for now, Jeng enters the scene, enters the box where he and Pat can exist together, can share space together, can be open and affectionate and attracted to each other.
Jeng asks Pat to come with him to give some leftover food from the bakery to the homeless.
Scene 8
Jeng and Pat give away the food and go and sit together under the bridge, where they are immediately boxed in by concrete pillars and discussing cruelty. This is where Jeng and Pat are at their peak. At their strongest, and you can see that because they are literally sandwiched between two concrete pillars rather than thin metal lines of window panes.
They are at their strongest as a couple here, because this is the truest and most honest part of Jeng that he has shown to Pat since they started fucking. (And I will be referring to what they have now as fucking, they are in lust, they are in like, but they are not in love). This is where Pat has his first opportunity to get to know Jeng a bit better, what his mindset away from work is, how he is trying to solve the world’s problems. Pat gets to see the Jeng that Jeng has often had to tuck away, here in their own little world.
And then this person enters, the artist of the stick figure drawing that sits above Pat and Jeng’s head.
Remember Chot? Chot, gay man, one of three in the office? Remember how he was able to enter Pat and Jeng’s barriers at badminton? Alright, well, here again we have someone who doesn’t quite…enter the boundary, but does cross in to it, stands in front of Jeng and Pat in a way that does not place them all the way outside of it especially because his drawing is inside their boundary.
Why is this important?
Well, I wrote about this the other night but that person only says two lines to Jeng and Pat:
“That picture was drawn by me, you look the same,”
“It looks like us”
Which means I have decided to interpret this character confirming his own queerness. So a second queer person is able to join Pat and Jeng in their little bubble. Jeng and Pat have hiked the trail, they have missed one sign, ignored the other, and have found their pristine view.
But, remember, the ground is unstable and the earth is starting to quake (and not just from them...nevermind)
Scene 9
Jeng enters a work meeting with Pat, Chot, and his busybody of an assistant. Again, Jeng is boxed in, but this time he is alone. He is compartmentalizing, trying to compartmentalize his life, here he is trying to put himself back into the box of Boss, and on the surface he appears that way, but in reality Pat is sitting before him. So while Jeng may be trapped here, in the expectations of his family to run this part of the business, he is looking forward, looking forward to Pat.
And where Jeng’s box in this scene is made of glass (we’ve been talking a lot about glass closets recently with this show….anyway) the assistant is also boxed in…around wood. Something you can’t see through. Boxed in, however, by a door. Something that can be opened, something that can be opened and reveal something beyond. Pat has entered Jeng’s world and they have spent all their time together inside that world, inside that barrier, unable to look out, and unwilling to see what is happening around them.
Scene 10
One of the least obvious visible barriers and one of the most obvious emotional barriers
Jeng sandwiched between Pat and Pat’s Dad. But he’s still boxed in here, with the top of that window wall running just barely above his head. Visually, he is still caged in here. But this barrier is made up of potential family, and Pat is out to his father, in a way that I don’t think Jeng is to his. (By that I mean I think, no I am sure, that Jeng’s Dad knows he’s gay, but it’s not exactly like Jeng can take Pat around to meet his pops. Especially not after their first encounter….). Jeng is undeterred, refers to Pat’s father as “Dad” does not try to defend himself against his angry ranting or attempts at instigating a fight cause of how many nights Jeng left Pat crying.
Scene 11
Unsurprisingly I have many additional thoughts about this scene and the way they utilize the boundaries here, but I’m going to save the additional thoughts for a different post.
There are many many many many instances in this scene where Pat and Jeng are trapped in a frame, but I’m using this one for the Dutch angle, because Dutch angles make things seems off-kilter. And unfortunately for Pat and Jeng that’s the way this is going, their foundation has not been built up the way it needs to be for them to be strong and stable. But they are too wrapped up in each other to see the ways things are beginning to turn.
Scene 12
Boxed in yet again, this time with Ae and Kanon pushing themselves between them. But this barrier, this box wasn’t of their own making, this is one that Jeng and Pat were invited in to, (like literally invited to) and it is a box they can not stand together in, they must stand apart.
Scene 13
Jeng is riding the high of unlimited access to young, talented, and enthusiastic dick and starts imagining a wedding between him and Pat. Once again they are boxed in by the archway, and personally I think it is worth noting that the most intricate, decorated, and beautiful barrier Pat and Jeng are placed inside of this entire episode…is in a fantasy.
Scene 14
Jeng calls Pat into his office to talk about the Forge Project and a promotion to manager!
Now, obviously all visual media is up to the interpretation of the viewer. So if you will allow me to be absolutely ridiculous in my interpretation of this shot. The barrier around them here is a little less obvious (similarly to the barrier from Scene 2 when Jeng has Pat pressed up against the glass). The barrier here is made up by two separate walls, one at an angle, and one side of the barrier is hidden by Jeng’s shelves.
Personally, I think Pat and Jeng feel like they are being careful at work, they are certainly not maintaining healthy distances, and they are by far pushing their luck, but the affection we have seen them directing towards each other in the moments in the office are 90% eye contact, 10% everything else so I’m certain in their minds, they are like ‘yeah, no one knows’ and that’s reflected in way this barrier is framed. At first glance the scene looks open, like they have freedom to move around, the windows show the city beyond and so you have all this…space. But the barrier is there, because they aren’t capable of staying in the world outside.
Scene 15
Pat is left to his own devices, Jeng nowhere to be seen, and suddenly the real world is knocking at his door. Pat is left to view homophobic comments about him from the other side of a wall. From the inside, looking out, Pat is suddenly enlightened to the real world consequences of his relationship with Jeng, and those consequences are pressing right up against him. He is trapped here, he has no room to move around, he has no space to breathe in, he cannot fit anyone else in this space with him. He is alone and being crushed.
Scene 16
More homophobia, more vitriol thrown in Pat’s direction, and another box Pat’s found himself in. One he can’t leave, one that makes him a spectacle to others. Pat is on display. Not only does the window trap Pat inside it, but the way the whiteboard and the perpendicular dividers for the cubicles are placed fully makes it feel like Pat’s in an enclosure. Like he’s at the zoo, like he’s putting on a show. Ying and the woman in blue are on the edges of this barrier, the woman in blue peers at Pat in his enclosure, Ying reaches through the bars to keep Pat there. The only person who is fully inside that barrier with him?
Chot.
Once again, the other gay in the office is able to exist inside the boundaries. In this case the boundaries seem more sinister. These boundaries weren’t built by Jeng or Pat, they were created by the other people in the office.
Scene 17
Meanwhile, Jeng is being alerted to the fact there are rumors circulating about him and Pat. But Jeng doesn’t care. Because Jeng has money, has power, and has a second job should all of this go South.
It is as Nini said, Jeng is compartmentalizing hard. Here Jeng is initially standing outside the barrier. Refusing to enter the business side of things. He’s blending in with his surroundings here almost, like if he stood still enough people might not notice him. He doesn’t want to hear anything about the rumors, so he refuses to leave the barriers he has created around himself. But just like Pat in Scene 15, the walls around Jeng are closing in, that space Jeng has around him that is supposed to be for him and Pat is no longer big enough for both of them.
Jeng is told that Pat needs to be taken off the Forge project. Jeng is told the Board is going after Pat.
Reluctantly Jeng steps back into the corporate world.
Scene 18
A long, hard, emotionally taxing day at work for Pat and we get the next box
Okay, I lied, it’s not a box. Pat is standing at the end of a walking path and is no longer able to move forward. And though logically we know that there is legitimately space on either side of Pat that would allow him to walk around or exit, the way the cubicles line up make it look like they are trapping Pat in.
Pat cannot move forward, his next move can only be walking back.
Scene 19
Pat and Jeng are cuddling in the evening and the events around the office are clearly weighing heavy on Pat’s mind, but as we know by now, Jeng is compartmentalizing, Jeng is ignoring the world around him, he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. At the beginning of the episode Pat entered in to Jeng’s world, stepped through Jeng’s barriers, stayed in there with him.
But now?
Now things are changing. Now Pat has seen what lies beyond the walls they’ve put around themselves.
And when Pat suggests he and Jeng stay apart for a little bit, while Pat is laying in Jeng’s space, Jeng does not want to entertain the conversation and tries to shut it down in every way he can.
And he is only successful when he moves in to Pat’s space, but it’s not because Jeng’s successfully soothed Pat’s fears. No, it’s because Pat gave up trying to express his concerns to Jeng.
And Pat is left alone, stuck in his own head, while Jeng rests peacefully outside Pat’s world.
Scene 20
I have to give it up to Pat for valuing himself enough to ditch Jeng in the middle of the night, and then go over Jeng’s head to Jeng’s father and resign from the company. Pat’s pissed, Pat is being the responsible one, and Jeng knows he fucked up. When we see him sitting in that conference room he is moping. Full on kicked puppy dog, and I’d hope that that would be enough for Jeng to do some introspection, and to finally stop trying to keep Pat separate from everything else in his life. But we will have to wait and see how the next two episodes go.
We end the episode with Jeng, sipping coffee, stuck back between two barriers that can barely fit him.
SO
That is every single scene with Jeng and Pat together and even a few where they are apart, and this whole essay has been my evidence that they are throwing walls up everywhere this episode.
The lesson here, kids, is that Jeng and Pat rushed in to this too fast. They spent all this time in a slow burn because they were valuing the workplace, because Pat was trying to get over his crush on his boss, because there were a lot of fucking considerations that needed to happen.
But Jeng grew impatient, and got swept up in the moment, and Pat was stuck right in there with him. They closed themselves off to everything around them. They stopped paying attention to anything but each other, which meant they weren’t careful, which meant other people caught on, which meant that Pat, who has no power in this company, was forced to face reality and Jeng, who has power and is happy for the first time in who knows how long, stuck his head in the sand, refused to look at Pat’s reality, and ultimately let Pat down in a big way, and he’s gonna suffer for it. They are both going to suffer for it.
Onwards towards the Episode 11 Curse!
#step by step#step by step the series#step by step meta#step by step analysis#step by step ep 10#manben#benman#patjeng#jengpat#jeng x pat#pat x jeng#man trisanu#ben bunyapol#dee hup house
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🌙 lore: nests
Everyone nests. Nests are generally rebuilt every two weeks or so, to clean the blankets, pillowcases, and nest covers. Scented items may be changed out more frequently, to keep the scent fresh/strong.
There are several different types of nests, with three being most common:
The classic, built on a frame (generally round) or the floor. They’re often surrounded by canopies.
Dens, which are more built somewhere more enclosed—such as a closet or modernized victorian box bed.
Perches, which are built somewhere raised—such as a loft/bunk bed or hammock.
The materials and set up of nests vary. Some prefer soft and blush, others more sturdy. Some want fuzzy, others silky, and others more linen/cotton. I've got a pinterest board with several examples.
(The stereotype is that alphas prefer dens, betas prefer perches, & omegas prefer a classic nest. This is reflected in media, & marketing for the various types.)
Each dynamic can be very territorial over their nest. Entering without first being invited is a good way to get yourself bitten.
Victims of abuse, or who lacked stable lives, may show a lack of interest in nesting, doing only the bare minimum. Others become even more territorial and defensive of their nests, not even allowing pack in. Still yet others may hide their nests. It can take time for their instincts to realize they’re safe.
Omegas become very fussy nesters during pre-heat. Their nest has to be just right, and this can cause frustration, sometimes to the point of tears.
If there’s space enough in the home, a pack will have a special pack nest they’ve built together. These are communal lounging spaces. Pups spend a lot of time there. If there isn’t space enough, the pack leader’s nest will double as the pack nest.
Pups tend to nest with their parents/guardians for the first two or three years of their lives. After that, they generally share a nest with other pups until around ten to twelve, when they develop a desire to have their own space.
If there aren’t enough pups for a pup nest, pups may stay longer with their parents or rotate between nests.
Older packmates may also choose to nest together, especially in times of stress… but also just because.
Pups usually build nests with their parents and/or siblings, to teach them how to do it on their own.
Pups moving into their own nest is something of a coming-of-age event. If funds are available, a big deal is made of picking out and setting up a frame (if applicable), and pack members will all gift pillows, stuffed toys, blankets, etc. Some will be new, others hand-me-downs. The pup then assembles their nest, usually alone, and shows it off. They usually have company the first night, though some want to prove they’re Big and sleep alone. There’s often a bit of an adjustment period, though, and they may end up regularly back in their childhood nests.
Nests play a large role in courting rituals. Gifting nesting material is a popular early step. Gifting scented nesting material is an indication of more serious partnership. Building a nest together is one of the final stages of courtship, as it declares an intent to bond.
#omegaverse#omegaverse headcanons#a/b/o#a/b/o headcanons#alpha#beta#omega#behaviors#nesting#dens#pups#my lore#🌙
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You're Mine- Timo Meier
Part of the Loving & Leaving Series.
A/N: Okay you know I love this. Thank you for letting me use Timo and Emma for this! I immediately went to Timo being jealous. I tried to think of other angsty things but it always came back to jealousy. Like that is what is going to get these two to hate fuck each other. Inspo from this lovely request. P.S. Would you believe me if I told you I wrote this in public 😏
Word Count: 3.6k
Timo and I lock eyes across the bar. We both lean back in surprise, then grin at each other.
“Stay there.” He calls, beginning to work his way around to me.
We both arrived separately at a sponsorship event for the Devils. Me as his date and a business owner and him as my date and a player in attendance. He came from home, waiting for Lio’s babysitter, while I was already in the area doing some admin work and catching up with Rhea back in Switzerland. Arriving separately has proven to be fruitful. I have several business cards in my purse and follow up meetings next week for potential events to host in the coming months. Business in North America is doing better than I could have predicted.
“Hey.” Timo murmurs, kissing my cheek.
“Hi.” I smooch his cheek too, lacing our fingers together.
“When did you get here? I didn’t see you walk in.”
“I think I got here before you. I’ve been chatting with a bunch of people. I already have like four potential events to book. We might need to delay going home for a bit.” He shrugs like that isn’t a big deal to him.
“Of course you do. You’re the best.” I blush, chomping on my lip at his praise. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Um, just water for now. I’m so thirsty.”
“Be right back.” He says, leaning down to kiss me again. This time he lingers, hand drifting dangerously low on my back to skim across the top of my butt. “Can’t wait to get you alone later.” I open my eyes, drowning in admiration as I watch him leave.
I can’t wait for that either.
“Excuse me, are you Emma?” A voice to the right asks. I turn, taking in a tall, blonde with mirrored aviators. He extends his hand, showcasing a perfectly straight smile while enclosing his fingers around mine.
“I am. You are?”
“Colin. I’m the owner.” He motions to the expensive restaurant and event center.
“Oh! Yes, I was asking the staff members if you were here. My company is hosting an event here next month. I was told I needed special permission from you to bring in rescue animals as it requires a specific permit. I believe you as the group owner need to pull the permit with the city?”
“Excuse me.” Someone says behind me, trying to sneak through. I step closer to Colin. My heel falls into a crack and I get a bit wobbly. Colin steadies me by my forearm. I latch onto his in surprise.
“So sorry.”
“No problem. It’s a little tight up here.”
“Yeah, but the space is incredible. The Edison string lights really make the space.
“Thanks. You have amazing taste.” He chuckles. He takes off his aviators, tucking them in the breast pocket of his suit. “Tell me more about this event.”
I fill Colin in on our idea to have rescue animals at the event from a local non-profit to raise more donations for a vet program that helps homeless individuals receive care for their pets while living on the streets. Its a massive need in the NY & NJ areas.
“We are thinking a puppy kissing booth and a fashion show. I understand it is a lot to ask, but we know this would really help reach the fundraising goal for the night.”
“You’ve completely sold me. I’ll have to be in attendance to spend some money. I’ll have my assistant gather the permit paperwork in the morning. Would you be available to stop by for lunch tomorrow and we can iron out the logistics for the permit? My treat.”
“Yeah, that would be great. The sooner we can get it submitted the better.”
“Perfect. Do you have a card?”
“Unfortunately I ran out! Do you have your phone? I can put my number in directly.”
“Even better.”
He hands me his iPhone so I can click the numbers in. I hand it back to him and we shake hands. I ignored the way his hand lingers a moment longer, but bring my left hand up to brush my hair behind my ear. My large wedding rings are blinding in the sunlight and I know he sees them because his cheeks tighten a bit in disappointment.
As Colin is walking away, Timo is returning, frowning, with his hands full. He wordlessly hands me the glass of water.
“Thank you.” I say, immediately gulping down two sips. I stick my tongue out, faking a pant. “It’s kinda hot today. I didn’t think it got so hot in the Spring.”
“Who was that?” Timo asks. I can hear the tightness in his voice even as he tries to sound breezy. I pause, scanning his facial features, taking note of the muscle pulsing in his jaw.
“Colin. The owner here.”
“You know him?”
“No, just met tonight. We were talking about the fundraising event I’m hosting here next month.” I shrug, bringing my glass to my lips again.
“Really? And he had to stand that close to you?” I slowly lower my glass down, taking a calming pause before responding.
“It wasn’t intentional. The crowd was pushing us into each other because people kept trying to get by to the bar.” I place my hand on his forearm, giving him a squeeze. He pulls away.
“Your tits were practically bouncing off his chest.” I pause with my tongue partly licking my bottom lip. “Maybe you should go home with him tonight.”
“Oh my god.” I scoff, rolling my eyes at him. “I’m going to give you a one-time pass on that comment.” I flip my hair over my shoulder in annoyance.
“You’ve been ignoring me all night.”
“I’ve been networking! Which you told me was okay to do tonight because of who is in this room.” I clap back at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you when you walked in.”
“Didn’t realize it was going to be only men you talk to. Guess that’s why you picked that dress. Thought it was for me.”
“Wow. Yeah, I came here tonight with you, my millionaire husband, to hit on other men in a low cut dress to make a few extra dollars. I think I can afford to not sell my body for potential clients.”
Timo looks down into his drink as he takes a sip.
“Hey, Timo. I hope you don’t mind if I steal your wife. I’ve got an event next Fall I think she would be the perfect planner for.” Tom Fitzgerald says from my left.
“No problem. She’s all yours.” The insinuation in his tone makes tears pinch the back of my eyes as he walks away.
After talking to Tom, I end up going to the bathroom to let my tears fall. I come out of the stall, dabbing discreetly at my eyes with toilet paper. I no longer feel up to more networking. All I want now is to leave. So, I go find Timo.
“I’m not feeling well. I want to go.” I avoid looking into his eyes so he can’t see my red rimmed orbs.
“Okay, give me a few minutes. I have more people to catch before I can go.” Anger flares inside of my chest, a burning ball of injustice at him being such a jerk tonight.
“Forget it. I’ll have Nico take me.” I start walking away before he can respond.
“Emma, come back here.”
“No.” I snap over my shoulder as I walk to find my brother.
- - -
Nico ends up bringing me home. He doesn’t ask questions, just gives me a hug and assures me it’s going to be okay when he sees my tears. He comes in briefly to give Lio a smooch, then leaves to return to the party with the rest of his teammates.
Timo doesn’t come home until later, after I’m pretending to be asleep in our bed. He walks into the room, checking the comforter is covering my whole body. He carefully rakes my hair back into my pillow case, dropping a kiss to my temple.
“Love you.” He mumbles. I hear him go into our closet and change, then grab his pillow from the other side of the bed and leave for the couch- the sleeping arrangement I texted him about earlier. He doesn’t get to insult me then sleep in our bed like he didn’t cross a line.
The next morning, I awaken well into the morning. I glance at my phone, surprised to see its after 9:00am. Lio is usually up by 7:00am. I grab the monitor, not seeing him in his crib. Both boys must be up then. I take the peace and quiet, grabbing my breast pump to take care of the first session for the day. As Lio has gotten older, I’ve started to rotate between breastfeeding and pumping, mostly because I’m gone more frequently than when he was a newborn.
When the cycle is complete, I gather the bottles then head down to the kitchen. Timo is putting Lio’s bib around his neck. Lio has starting to enjoy more food in the last month, much to my delight. Timo hears me step onto the hardwood from the stairs. He glances over his shoulder briefly then looks back at Lio.
“Good morning.” He tries to sound cheery, but the frustration from last night is evident in his tone. I tilt my lips up into a half-assed smile. “He was up at 5. I gave him two bottles already, but he still seemed hungry so we are trying pumpkin.”
“Oooo a new flavor.” I smile at our son who’s gummy grin fills his face. “Pumpkin for our lil pumpkin.” I smooch Lio’s cheek and his giggle fills the kitchen. I press my nose into his hair, smelling the sweetness of his soft skin. Timo watches me, leaning against the counter. Our gazes connect but I look away. I place the fresh bottles in the fridge after marking the date on them.
“Are we going to talk?”
“Probably at some point.” I say, walking to the coffee bar to begin working on an espresso.
“Well I have to go to practice soon.”
“Good for you. You’ll need to take Lio with you to the sitter. I have a client meeting with Colin.”
“That douche from last night?”
“He’s not a douche. You were the one acting like a douche.” Timo’s eyebrows shoot up and he’s instantly seething. He walks back over to the highchair, giving Lio another spoonful.
“I don’t want you to go.” Timo suddenly whirls around, practically spraying pumpkin all over the white kitchen. “Can’t Rhea call and talk to him?”
“No. It’s paperwork for a permit. And I really don’t care what you want. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do.” I can feel my blood pressure beginning to skyrocket. He is being completely unreasonable.
“So my feelings don’t matter?”
“Not when it comes to my work.” I turn back to the espresso machine. “ End of discussion.”
“Uh, no it’s not.”
“It is.” I suck air between my gritted teeth, trying to stay calm.
“This is bullshit.”
“Timo.” I spin around, gesturing to Lio.
“He doesn’t know what I’m saying.”
“Until that’s his first word.”
“I want to talk more about this.”
“I don’’t.”
“We are no longer fuck buddies who get to play around like this. We are married. You’re my wife. And as your husband-”
“You better stop talking right now before you step into something you won’t be getting out of for days.” I turn back to the machine, watching the last few drops fall into the small cup.
“Emma, if you turn your back on me again when I’m talking, you better be bending over for me to fuck you.” His voice is low but razor sharp. I pause, sucking my cheeks in, glancing over my shoulder at his face. He is pissed. Absolutely seething with his arms crossed over his thick chest, Lio’s spoon in one hand and the jar of baby food in the other.
Our gazes stay locked in heated defiance. If Lio wasn’t here, I know how we would settle this. But he’s right there, wiggling for Timo to give him his next spoonful of pumpkin. I turn back around, showing him my back just like he told me not to. The spoon and jar clatter to the counter. Timo’s large hands swoop me up, throwing a shoulder into my thighs so I hang down his back.
“Timo, our baby.”
“He is fine.”
“Not in the high chair.” Timo slaps my ass, hard. I squeak, feeling the intense burning coat my backside.
“Shut your mouth. Or I’ll shut it for you.” It’s at that moment that I realized I may be a little in over my head with this.
“Put me down.”
“No, you’re being such a fucking brat.” He huffs as he hauls me back over his shoulder so I fall on the bed. “Stay here.” He points a finger at me. I oblige, listening to Timo bring Lio into his nursery. I’m shocked when our son willingly goes down. He must sense his dad’s exasperation.
My heart flutters and breathing intensifies with every thud of Timo’s feet coming back to our bedroom. When he walks in, my heart aches for him. I hate fighting with him. What used to drive me crazy with sexual tension, now fills me with terror. Losing him is no longer a livable option. Not since we made Lio.
“I’m sorry.” I begin to bubble as he pulls me down the bed to him.
“Sh. Don’t ruin this by being sweet now.”
I can tell he’s already over whatever was happening in the kitchen. All he wants now is to be buried to the hilt, feeling me squeeze him while dropping moans into his ear. He climbs on top of me, hands coming to dash through the sides of my hair. His mouth is on mine, greedy and possessive. As he kisses me, he shoves his hard erection between my legs, rutting into me until I give the whimpers he’s desperate to hear.
He grips the waistband of my shorts, ripping them down my body. I nibble my swollen lip, panting as I watch him hover his mouth above my clit. He locks eyes with me, then licks up my slit, maintaining eye contact. I look back as long as I can, but the ecstasy calls my head to the pillow. I whine when he roughly slurps at my clit.
“T. Fuck me. Please.” I beg.
“You gonna be good?”
“No.”
“Em, you know what I want from you.” He pulls completely away, smirking at the way I desperately cry to him.
“There is a vibrator in that drawer just as good as you.” I challenge. He sucks his cheeks in.
“Doubtful.”
“Prove it.” I hiss, gripping him harshly over his shorts. The control shifts back to me instantly. He pulls his shorts off, then settles back on his knees between my legs. I wrap my hands around his shoulders, making his lips meet mine in the middle.
His engorged head is perched at my opening. He presses in fast, bucking his hips into mine as I grip his neck for leverage to watch us connect. I'm so tight; he’s so rigid, I’m instantly moaning when his mouth connects our lips. His tongue drags along mine, practically choking me with how deep he’s going. Fuck, this is fantastic. But I want to be the one in control. I shove at his shoulders. He won’t relinquish. He pulls back up, fucking me harder until my hips are writhing off the bed to meet his.
“You belong to me.” He reminds me as he pounds deeper into my folds. I can’t breathe. It’s so good and intense and necessary. His grip on my hips is as possessive as his words. Nothing could pull him away from me.
“Then you better treat me like I do.” I pant out, reaching up his back to claw my fingernails down his back with his rapid fucking. “Fuck.” I sob, digging deeper. Raw, angry marks form under my nails on his back. Timo turns his face into me, sucking the sensitive skin of my throat before biting down.
“I treat you like a goddamn queen. You were a fucking brat last night, not letting me sleep in our bed.”
“You deserved it.” I am quick to quip back. He responds by bringing his hand up to my throat, holding it there and watching my eyes close with desire. He doesn’t tighten his grip, just holds me down as he pumps faster.
“Keep it up.” He whispers with an edge. His other hand comes down to my clit, two fingers feeling their way between my folds. His touch is light and has me writhing beneath him for more. “You want to come? You know what you need to do.” I think about fighting more, but the need is too great. I tangle my legs around his waist, keeping him close to me. He pauses, buried inside of me. “Baby.” His voice is coated with love now.
“I love you, T. I’m yours. Forever.” I bury my face into his neck as he begins to rapidly pound into me again. It’s so incredible. Fast and deep and ragged. His cock drags along my inner walls, fingers playing with my clit while he sucks at the nook of my neck and shoulder. Explosions sparkle along my black eyelids. “Ooo-oh.” I choke out into his ear, then suck in a short, staccato breath before exhaling a loud moan. My pussy tugs ribbons of cum from his tip as he tells me how fucking incredible I feel when I’m coming.
Our heavy breathing shakes the bed. I run my hand up his back to his hair, holding his face to where he kisses my shoulder. His breath is hot against the wet skin there. After a bit, he falls off to the side, rolling me with him. I curl into his chest as his hand travels down, cupping my butt. He rests his lips on my head.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know. I forgave you the second you slid into me.”
“It’s kinda our way, no?”
“Yeah. I’m okay with that.”
“Me too.” He chuckles. Some silence passes, our breathing starts to regulate. “I didn’t like the way he looked at you.” Timo says. I think about that for a second.
“Why does it matter?”
“Because you’re mine.” That one answer holds so much weight. As possessive as it sounds, it’s really about the fear he still has that I might not be here one day. The same fear I felt grip me when he walked into the bedroom.
“T, I’m never gonna leave you. Ever again.” He sighs after I say those words, crushing me to his chest so he can kiss my lips. “You proved to me that you’re better than the vibrator. So…” He snorts against my face, then throws his head back into the pillow to laugh.
“I’m gonna use it on you tonight so we can settle that once and for all.”
“If we close the blinds, it could be night time right now.” I wiggle my eyebrows excitedly. “Lio definitely went back to sleep.”
“Yeah, did you see his teeth coming in? Little dude is going through it. I hate it.”
“Ah, I felt them when I was feeding him yesterday. It was awful.”
“You should be done breastfeeding. Teeth on your nipples seems like more than you signed up for.” He jokes.
“You just want to touch my boobs again.”
“Yes. Duh. And put them in my mouth.”
I pause to consider, fueled mostly be selfish desire. It is probably getting to be time though. Lio seems to like bottles better these days, but the thought of being done with our journey makes me sad.
Suddenly, the doorbell sounds through the house.
“Oh fuck, Nico!” I sputter, rolling over and almost off the bed. Timo grabs my arm at the last second, allowing me to catch myself with my other one on the ground. “I forgot he said he was coming back this morning.”
I toss Timo’s shirt over my head, jumping around on my feet to pull my underwear up my legs, then rushing from the room.
“Babe, you really gonna answer the door like that? It’s your brother!” Timo’s voice calls after me. I ignore him.
“Hey!” I say breathlessly to Nico after swinging the front door open. Nico stands there, sunglasses cover his eyes and a twisted scowl. I can feel his judgmental gaze rake down my body.
“I see you’ve made up.”
“No I just slept like this.”
“I know what just fucked hair looks like, Em.”
“Ew.”
“Ditto.”
Timo comes strolling into the entry way behind me, Lio in his arms with sideways, matted hair after his brief nap.
“Oh, we got some grumpy gills back there.” Nico’s tone immediately changes seeing his nephew.
“Yeah, he’s not too happy with me.” Timo bounces our son a bit, trying to get a smile. Lio refuses.
“Lot of people not happy with you.” Nico snips, grabbing Lio from Timo and walking further into the house.
“Your sister and I worked it out.” Timo murmurs as I step into his arms, wrapping mine around his waist to give him a squeeze. His hands slide down to my ass, giving it a hearty squeeze. He spreads my cheeks a bit and I feel his cum sliding out of me. I wrinkle my nose, grunting quietly at the feeling. Timo laughs because he knows what is happening.
“Awww, you hear that Lio. You’re gonna be a big brother!”
“Nico Hischier, if you speak that into existence right now, I will end you.”
Nico hides his snicker with Lio.
#TM: Loving & Leaving#Timo Meier#Timo Meier smut#Timo Meier series#New Jersey devils#my writing#hockey fan fiction#hockey writing#NHL writing#writing request
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A new Jikook picture from military dropped and the reverse psychology Tkk are trying to pull is right on cue and straight up psychotic. Surprise, surprise. They got comfortable cause there hasn't been a new pic a a week or so. Now its here and they have resorted to purposely make posts saying Jk is making friends, while intentionally shitting on Jimin and cropping him out and do it with intentions on hoping people come to Jimin's defense, just so they can say people are triggered cause Jk is making friends and not on a honeymoon with Jimin. WHAT? You can't make this shit up. Just when you thought they couldn't get more desperate. Do they actually think they are fooling people? Do they actually think they have convinced people they are unbothered and not throwing up and crying? Their coping has gotten so out of hand that they have resorted to troll posts, just to trigger people on purpose, so they can appear to be unbothered. Mental illness. They are so mad they can't see straight and coming up with disgusting tactics to cope. Its been 5 weeks bitch. Move on. Jk standing next to a random person and they make a whole entire wattpad to get attention and do it with a straight face. They don't do that with Tae's pics coming out or say that about Tae. I wonder why. You can see right through these people & their Jikook bitterness. I would not want to fly with these people or be in an enclosed space with them. I would not want them to educate my kids if they are educators. If they are in the medical field I would not want them to work on me. Next time I have surgery, I am asking them if they ship Taekook. If they say yes, I am out. People like this are unhinged and not safe to be around. People like this take their problems out on you. People who live in alternate realities like tkk, end up hurting people. And Tkk are those people. ALL OF THEM. I bet some of them physically ripped their own hair out when it was confirmed Jikook enlisted together. Probably punched themselves in the face and banged their heads into walls. Physically hurt themselves cause they are not well in the head and made shipping TK their whole identities. Insane people make trigger troll posts, not sane people. Doing all this just to troll cause its all they have left and they think its funny to mock and harass queer people serving in the military. They saw they were being ignored and needed to create lies and chaos for attention. You can try and trigger Jikookers, report them, try to run them out of here, but the two biggest Jikookers on the planet, Jimin and JK, you will never phase. You have unsuccessfully driven a wedge between them, that you have tried to for years and guess what. You still won't drive a wedge between them, even if they had no supporters. They live their lives for T H E M, not you, not us, not their members, not their families, just for T H E M. So you cope by telling yourself Jk is making friends, while desperately ignoring Jimin is right there with JK's arm on him.
Such clowns 🤡 🤣
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Infatuation
Prompt: "You're so sweet."
Pairings: Luffy x Black!fem!reader
Warning: fluff💞, cursing, grammatical errors.
Tags: @closet-degenerate @euphofic @roronoaswifey @luffyinlove @itzgabz22
Note: i wrote this last year i was supposed to oost this before any smut in the dance club au series but i got too excited. Plus i kinda like this idk why i didn't post this earlier.
You quickened your pace trying to keep up with the energetic man, he seemed to forget your legs weren't as long as his. Shanks le roux, the principal of the infamous grandline academy known around the world to be a prestigious and well put school. "And here it is! Our dance studio."
Ah ha! What you were called here for, the dance club. One of the three popular groups in the school, the two being the student council and the debate club; this was because they represent the school in most major events.
Apparently the set of students managing the dance club were shit at it and they needed you; a very popular choreographer, to bring the dance club to its former glory.
"Thank you for this Y/n-san." He said enclosing your hands in his as he smiled softly at you. Your heart leaped what a man! "I-It's no problem at all sir! I'm just really honoured you considered me."
"Ah! Don't be modest! I'm just a really big fan is all" His face heated up waving his hands frantically at the admiration in your eyes. "I'll introduce them, then leave the rest to you."
He swung the doors open letting you see inside the big studio and the people inside. "A big circle guys! We have a new member!" He clapped his hands getting their attention immediately. "This is Y/n L/n! She'll be your new club president from now on, please make her feel at home." He left after saying that, leaving you with a small wave.
Murmurs of 'y/n l/n?!' 'She actually came!' 'Thank God now we don't have to embarrass ourselves any longer.' filled the studio as they heard your name. "Hi! Nice to meet you. I'm Portgas D. Ace call me Ace." Ace smiled charmingly stretching his hands to shake yours.
"It's nice to meet you, let's have a fantastic year together." You both shared sinister smiles. Oh ho ho you were both gonna tear your oppositions down.
You've completely become familiar with the school and the dance club but one thing you couldn't get familiar with was your heart rate speeding up whenever a particular strawhat boy appeared in close proximity. How did you fall for this boy without even spending more than four weeks in school? Well....
After discussing and arranging activities for the dance club you walked around familiarising yourself with your members; their strengths and weaknesses, but you were suddenly interrupted by the doors swinging open. A melodious laugh echoing around the dance studio caught your attention. You swore that was the most beautiful laugh you've ever heard.
You turned to get a glimpse of the person who owned such joyful laugh only to find dark brown almost black doe eyes staring straight in your (e/c) ones. Your heart jumped, face heating up as you noticed there was no space between the both of you. When did he get so close?!
"Hey! Have you seen ace?!" He asked his light voice sounded like wind chimes it was so refreshing you felt breathless. He backed away a little allowing you to see him fully and damn! His ebony locks fell at neck length covering his forehead slightly, a scar with two stitches underneath his left eye and he had a slim muscular build in short he was hot!
"I- A-Ace? Uh- um" Your heart was beating so fast and your face was heating up rapidly. "Huh? Hahaha! What's with you? You're weird!" Luffy blessed you once again with his laugh and suddenly you felt so faint. Simp.
"Hey! Luffy! You're all up in her face! Have some manners!" Ace appeared pulling luffy away from your face. So his name's luffy.
After that day he was always in your mind and it didn't help matters that he came to the club after school everyday with sabo to see ace. You later learned they were all brothers.
Now all you wanted to do was get his attention and you knew dressing up or flirting would just fly over his head, trust me you noticed when a certain college student kept using those tactics to win luffy over.
Another thing you noticed was that he was really popular and friendly, he was friends with the seniors, college students and even teachers! Plus he was never alone and was always with his friends. He was apparently called 'strawhat' due to his iconic strawhat that hung around his neck or on his head everywhere he went.
You watched him walk past you, his crew in tow as they teased him about something, all he did was pout, whining at them to stop before cutely stomping off. The sight of him sulking gave you butterflies, he was so cute! How could someone be so cute.
"Yo! Y/n we're gonna be late!" A friend of yours said dragging you to your next class. Sighing as you were dragged away you looked in the direction he ran to with longing. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be.
"What's got you so down y/n." You jolted almost choking on your water. After an intense dance session everyone was resting while you kept thinking of a certain strawhat boy. "Ack! What? Nothing... I'm alright."
Ace sighed. "Ever heard of the saying; 'the way through a man's heart is through the stomach?' Hah... Never thought my younger brother would date before me." He sulked as he walked away. "Thanks ace." You whispered a smile on your lips, you caught a little smile and nod from him. 'Go get him.'
And ever since that day you would always make an extra bento just to give it to luffy. He was confused at first until you told him you made excess and didn't want it to go to waste. So everytime you brought a bento for him he would assume you made excess again "Haha! You must make alot y/n!" He would comment as he ate happily.
He started to notice you a little more now, he would call your name in the halls and wave at you anytime he saw you. You were so glad when his introduced you to his friends, they kept giving you and luffy weird glances but all in all they were nice.
Today was a busy day and you had no clubs today so you couldn't give luffy his bento in the dance studio this time so you had to give it to him during the lunch period.
You had made a large five sectioned bento for him cause you knew how much he could eat. The bell for lunch rang and everyone started to head to the huge cafeteria. You walked with your friends, carrying a cute lunch bag that held the huge bento.
Four minutes into lunch and everyone was settled, the camera switches over to luffy and his mates. "Oi luffy slow down! You'll choke!" Nami nagged, fumes coming out from her ears as she shook her hands at him before sighing and turning to scold a laughing ussop.
"Oh my, luffy isn't that y/n over there?" Robin said teasing him. He froze narrowing his eyes before swallowing. "And what's that got to do with me?" Tilting his head innocently, about to dive back into his plate but sat up straight when robin answered him. "Well she's looking right here, right at you infact."
"Ohhhhh!" The strawhats hollered, teasing him as they took in his flustered expression. They noticed his weird fixation on you before he did himself, albeit surprised he had the ability to crush on someone they were really happy for their him, sanji was a little conflicted though.
They heard your friends giggling and turned their attention to you, only to see you walking towards them. Your lips set into a cute smile as your eyes made contact with luffy's before you looked away flustered, the bag in your hand swaying slightly as you waved. "Hi guys!"
You got to their table, greeting them and getting 'heys', 'hellos' and a flirty 'y/n-swan' from them. You chuckled before turning your attention to luffy "Um- i made a bento for you today, take it- Only if you want it i mean!" You chuckled nervously pushing it towards luffy, finally admitting you made a bento for him.
"Of course! I love your cooking y/n!" He said revealing his gums as he smiled at you. Wah! Was he trying to get you to pass out in front of all these people! Your heart skipped a beat at his smile and compliment- wait what? He loved your cooking?
Your heart swelled, your lips taking on a soft smile. "You're so sweet luffy, I'm glad." You turned to walk away before pausing in your step, turning back and pecking his cheek before rushing away. You heard both his table and yours holler as you walked out of the cafeteria too embarrassed to look back.
Not knowing that if you did you would've seen the rear sight of an extremely flustered luffy, his tan skin taking a pink tint, almost red as he caressed the spot he felt your soft lips land. "Shishishi, cute."
#monkey d. luffy#straw hat luffy#mugiwara no luffy#luffy#fem reader#luffy x reader#one piece#anime men#one piece fanfiction
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[ID: Sketch of Jacob Stone enclosed in a glowy blue column and sitting on a stool, holding one arm with a bandaged right hand, looking at Cassandra beside him, who is calculating something in her head, and with Jenkins in the foreground watching them. End ID]
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Day 6: Mind control
Ficlet explaining this below the cut
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Stone hadn’t been acting right.
First, he kept spacing out. Getting lost in thought in a way he usually only did if studying artworks, portfolios or works of literature. Except, when he sat down to actually do that after they’d finished an artifact retrieval, Eve didn’t see him write a single note.
He had dismissed her concerns with, as she expected, a kind but guarded smile, and a simple, “I’m good.”
That didn’t do anything to make her less concerned, but she did conclude that maybe it was something personal. He had a lot of pain in his past, and Eve barely knew the smallest part of it. Add that to his habit of thinking a lot…maybe he just had periods like this, triggered by something none of them could guess.
Except, then he showed signs of pain. Or, not pain. Discomfort. Pressing the heel of his palm over an eye, wincing from apparently nothing. And, when she picked him up on this, his, “Nothing’s wrong,” was sharp and unfamiliar. Nothing like the soft smile Stone had offered a couple of weeks before.
She backed off but kept close watch. Close enough that she saw when he recklessly - almost deliberately - threw himself at their claw-endowed foe in the middle of a fight. Ezekiel saved him from a very probably fatal injury, managing to use the distraction to pull the evil ruby from the back of the crab-looking, scaled created, just in time for it to crumbled into fragments before that massive claw could cut Stone in two.
Ezekiel had grinned as he held up the gem, said something expectedly cocky, and the day was saved.
Stone looked angry. Ferocious.
Eve only placed the expression hours after they were back, after Cassandra and Ezekiel had gone to grab victory drinks. Well aware of the sadness discord among the group caused Cassandra, Eve waited until then, grabbing Stone’s arm to hold him back from joining them.
She didn’t waste time with skirting around the question. What was wrong with him? Why had he been so reckless? He needed to get it together or someone was going to get hurt.
In short, an earful. The sort of lecture she rarely needed to give the librarians anymore.
He had responded with confusion, a hurt and lost expression, and then suddenly that ferocity again. No word accompanied the changing demeanour, and he walked away without saying a single word in his defence or apology.
“Did I miss something?” Jenkins asked, watching the empty space Stone had just vacated. The question was really just a prompt for the explanation he had to know was coming.
“Stone’s acting wrong.”
Jenkins hummed the ‘I believe you are right’ hum, “I too have noticed the change.”
She shook her head, “Today, in a fight, he almost got himself killed. And it didn’t look like an accident. He just threw himself into the danger without a plan or a decent strategy. Which, maybe two years ago, could be normal, but now…”
“And it takes no pleasure in art,” Jenkins added, “Is distant.”
“And angry. He looked angry when Ezekiel defeated that crab…thing. Like he wanted to be the one to do it.”
Jenkins hummed the ‘you are wrong’ hum.
Eve sighed, “Do you have any theories?”
“I may…but it would…”
“Baird! Jenkins!” Cassandra sprinted in, catching herself on the doorframe to keep from literally sliding beyond it in her haste, “We need your help. Stone’s…”
She broke off, choking on a sort of sob, and shook it off, “Just come!”
Eve caught Jenkins’ worried glance for a split second before they were both on their feet, running after Cassandra until they saw what she had called them for, and Eve sprinted ahead.
Stone was lying on the floor in the corridor, outside one of the innumerable rooms, a pool of blood beneath him and his left shoulder soaked in it. From years of habit, she assessed that along with several other wounds - his hand was scored in a row of three deep gashes, the left side of his head was reddened and grazed, and he wasn’t moving. Ezekiel leaned over him, his own shirt balled up and pressed onto Stone’s shoulder.
“He tried to fight that big ass scorpion thing!”
“The Aqrabuamelu?”
“Whatever!” Ezekiel moved back to let Eve and Jenkins take over, “We were going to ask him to join us and he just ignored us. We followed and then he just walks in. Stands there and the scorpion guy went for him. We dragged him out, but…”
But he had once again almost got himself killed in an act far too stupid for someone so intelligent.
The reasons could wait. Right now they needed to deal with the very severe, deep wound that cut deep into his shoulder. Deep enough she could see bone beneath the confusion of blood and flesh.
“Do we have anything in the library that can help with this? It’s not a magical wound, right?”
Jenkins pursed his lips, “Let us hope not…first we need to put pressure on the injury and bind it, hold the sides of the gash closed…”
Eve fell back into an old habit. She listened to the resident medic, did as they instructed to stabilise the injury, transport the victim, assist in the treatment, clean the victim up. It helped. Helped her not to think about the two pairs of terrified eyes watching everything, of what might be going on with their art historian to cause him to be so reckless.
In the past when this happened, with an injury like this, it often culminated in the soldier being sent to a proper hospital as soon as possible and from there home, or the soldier dying.
This time, Jenkins had a useful elixir that helped stem the bleeding and knit the wound partially closed, leaving only a moderately deep cut that they could dress and bind.
That part was better than any previous incident like this.
Worse, however, was that when Stone woke up a few hours later, he was back to that ferocious anger again. Silent, but with hatred in his gaze. Specifically, hatred for Ezekiel and Cassandra - the ones who had pulled him to safety.
Jenkins watched this thoughtfully, then, speaking over the indignant words of Ezekiel directed at their ungrateful rescuee, “Colonel, please bring Mr Stone into the annex with as much force as is required. Miss Cilian, if you could assist me, please.”
He walked off, Cassandra running after, with a final, worried, look back towards Stone.
Eve hesitated, briefly became the object of that angry gaze, and grabbed Stone by the back of his shirt collar and his uninjured arm to manhandle him after the former knight.
In the annex, Jenkins stepped in to take Stone from Eve and push him unceremoniously onto one of the stools.
Immediately, a blue light erupted from beneath him in a tall column of light.
“That should keep him from doing himself further mischief for now,” Jenkins said with evident satisfaction, “And give us time to resolve this matter.”
“The matter of Stone trying to kill himself,” Ezekiel clarified.
“No,” Jenkins held up a finger, “Trying to get himself killed. There is a distinction.”
“Not in the outcome.”
“The outcome is not the important factor here,” Jenkins continued, “Colonel, when did you say you first noticed this strange behaviour? About a month ago now?”
“Yeah.”
“Shortly after you retrieved the lead-covered tome from Malta.”
“I think so…”
“Just so,” Jenkins nodded, “He was distracted, lost interest in his passions, grew agitated, and finally began to put himself into fatal situations with apparent deliberate intent.”
“Yeah.”
“There is a creature…” he left the sentence hanging as he went to retrieve a book, returning and continuing as he leafed through it, “Called a remora-”
“The-”
“Ah, yes, no,” he cut off Cassandra’s exclamation, “A different remora. The fish was a…well, one should not undertake the classification and naming of creatures after two quarts of neat spirits.”
He stopped at a page and stepped back so they could peer collectively at the etched print of a slug-like creature with three rows of sharp teeth.
“This remora is a magical creature. Was, in fact, human once. Before Zeus took a disliking to him and, well, did what Zeus does.”
“One of the things Zeus does…” Eve muttered. Stone had been telling her some of the stories of Greek mythology while he was studying some recently uncovered pottery sent to be examined by one of his aliases.
Looking back to Stone where he sat now, she saw nothing of her friend there. Just cold anger. Hostility.
“The unfortunate human had been a particularly handsome sailor, reputed to be unrivalled in his ability to get the greatest speed from any ship, beloved and admired by all those who saw his abilities. On transforming, the creature was compelled to latch onto ships moving through the water, seeking what was familiar to him, and yet his doing so could stop the ship entirely. He became hated and feared by sailors.”
“That’s so sad,” Cassandra whispered.
“As is the fate of most who angered Zeus during the height of his power.”
“Okay, but this doesn’t explain Stone trying to kill himself.”
“Get himself killed,” Jenkins corrected, “The remora has been known to enter into humans, latching onto them as it will with any surface, and burrowing inside. Its home, where it wants to be, is the water. The open oceans, and on finding itself inside a host, it seeks escape. This it does by attempting to control the host. Just as it can control ships, to an extent, it can control living beings. Not entirely, but enough to eventually find its way out of the host. Pliny the elder, for example. Sailed directly towards an active volcano, impelled by the remora, and met his unfortunate demise.”
“And you think Stone picked this remora up in Malta?”
“It may have been attached to the book you recovered, or perhaps free in the water at the time Mr Stone went in. In any case, it found its way into him, and since then has been gradually gaining control over his mind.”
Eve looked again at Stone. The remora had his expression fixed in something cold and angry, but apparently indifferent to their presence and their discussion. It was watching, but not really seeing.
“So,” Ezekiel prompted when the silence had extended for too long, “How do we get this remora guy out of Stone?”
“Death of the host is the only means ever documented.”
“Well we aren’t killing Stone, so let’s find a new way.”
“An exorcism?” Ezekiel suggested, “Or, like, some kinda variation on one?”
“Exorcisms are very specific rituals, Mr Jones. Variations on them to the extent of eliminating formerly-human creatures with a physical presence in this plane do not exist.”
Ezekiel huffed and they fell silent.
Stone shifted in his seat, pressed a hand against the barrier containing him, glowering yet more coldly when it didn’t yield.
“Why did that thing get in him anyway if it just wants to get out again?” Eve asked.
“There would have been no intent behind the action. An accident. Latching onto a surface not as resistant as the hull of a ship.”
“So, maybe it just doesn’t know another way out,” Cassandra said with that spark of excitement that foretold some genius, “If we can guide it out the way it came…”
“How do we do that?” Ezekiel waved a hand in front of Stone’s face, and received that same empty coldness - aware but not really observing.
“We use something it wants. The ocean or a ship…do we have an ocean or a ship?”
“We have several rooms with some sort of oceanic portion to them, but they have existing uses. I would prefer not to introduce the remora into any of our occupied rooms.”
“And we can’t let it loose to do this to more people.”
“What about shipwrecks?” Cassandra said a stream of confusing statements about velocity and currents that apparently led her to the conclusion, “If we pass something that resembles the hull of a ship past Stone at a precise velocity in a body of water with salinity matching the ocean where we found the remora, it should move out of him and to that. The cut in his shoulder would provide an easy path so it should be able to reach the external medium before the falsity becomes obvious.”
“Okay…” Eve nodded, understanding enough and trusting in Cassandra’s judgement, “Then that’s what we do.”
-
Holding one of her best friends down, half underwater while simultaneously trying to stop him from drowning himself, at the same time as two other friends orchestrated a carefully timed motion of some copper-covered wooden planks over the immersed part of the first friend…Eve reflected once again that her life had become incredibly bizarre.
Stone’s relentless efforts to immerse his head in the water prevented her from any deep reflection, since she had to prevent that while also keeping him from knocking the fake ship’s hull and ruining the illusion. There was also the small matter of his very much open injury seeping blood into the water around him.
Somewhere beyond her head, Cassandra was using a pulley to move the object through the water, while Ezekiel and Jenkins used yet more string-linked objects to create the correct motion of water to suggest a ship to the remora. Cassandra had drawn out a diagram of the fluid dynamics required and how to create it, and now Eve was poised over the water - hanging from a harness Ezekiel assured her was secure - trying to move as little as possible as the obscure procession of wood began.
As soon as the wood moved close, she released Stone, trusting the calculations and theory that this would work and she hadn’t just let Stone go and drown himself.
The fake ship passed slowly over, Stone remained motionless beneath the surface of the water.
Ten seconds passed. Fifteen. Twenty, and the ‘ship’ suddenly stopped.
Beneath it, Stone moved, tried to sit up, hitting his head against the fake ship.
He scrambled out from beneath the immobile copper-coated wood, blood blossoming behind him, and emerged from the water coughing violently.
Eve unfastened herself from the harness, dropping the couple of feet to the water.
“Stone?!”
He was trembling, breathless and not just from the water, and suddenly very pale.
Gripping her arm, he nodded, and turned to look back at the wood, still unmoving in the water.
Beneath it, a small, dark shape lurked.
“Thing has…so much hate,” Stone murmured, voice weak and unsteady, “All this…built up anger. A-An’ it doesn’t even know why. It’s got no…no memories left.”
Those fractured, almost inaudible, words, were all he said of the remora aloud.
They treated his shoulder, made a room for the remora, and carried on. Bizarre and dangerous events were part of their daily life, and this soon became just another of those.
But not for Stone.
Eve knew that he spent a lot of time visiting it, sometimes with his laptop, sometimes with a book.
Several months later, when the entire incident felt like nothing more than a distant memory, Eve saw Jenkins reading an academic paper on little known Ancient Greek folklore, authored by one of Stone’s aliases. She skimmed over it herself, and found a detailed, sympathetic, extensively researched background to The Remora.
Stone’s way of helping the creature that was beyond help. Telling its forgotten story, and recounting the few times that a ship had been saved by its sudden, abrupt and inexplicable deceleration in the water.
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#ailesswhumptober2023#Day 6: Mind control#the librarians#cassandra cillian#jenkins#jacob stone#cw suicide mention#cw self harm#zeus is a dick
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Say It - Chapter 1: Shine
Summary: After Yang stopped laughing, her expression softened once again. It was a look that made Blake’s heart freeze in her chest, one that terrified her almost as much as it thrilled her. “I really am glad that you came tonight.” The grip of Yang’s fingers tightened minutely between Blake’s as she spoke, her tone quiet and low. Maybe a human would’ve had trouble hearing it above the music, but even with the bow Blake’s cat ears picked it up perfectly.
“Well, you did invite me.” Blake replied bluntly, ignoring the increased hammering of her heart in her chest. She considered telling her, sharing those thoughts she held so close. To tell Yang how much she appreciated the talk the other day, or how incredibly strong she thought she was. Or even to tell her about the forest and how grateful she was to have picked Yang as her partner.
Or
Many times that Blake and Yang don’t say what they’re thinking, and one time when they do.
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The sun was setting in the distance as the day drew towards a close, casting a steadily elongating shadow of Blake’s form across the ground. Soon it would vanish as the fragmented moon rose over the school and blessed the students with its soft rays of light. Though Blake’s hand was tucked securely into the crook of Sun’s arm as she walked, her mind had already wandered far from there. It drifted towards a sun of a different sort than either of the ones present.
Blake’s mind traveled to a memory from just a couple days before, when her partner had pulled her aside to talk. It hadn’t been a conversation that Blake went to willingly, but she didn’t regret it.
With a wink and a flirty line, Yang had invited Blake to the dance. That was normal behavior for Yang. If that was all she had done, then Blake would’ve ignored it. It would’ve been easy to roll her eyes and deflect that effort to lighten the mood.
But that wasn’t all she did, not by far. What wasn’t normal was the talk preceding it, the story Yang told about her mother and her childhood. The warm hug that Yang gave her in that classroom stuck with her, along with the emotions conveyed within it. Blake learned something about Yang that day, about her immense drive but also her restraint and caring heart.
The night before the dance, Blake went to sleep early.
Now, as the sun set above and she approached the front doors of the dance hall with Sun by her side, she felt more alive than she had in weeks. The doors opened in front of them, letting light and music pour out of the enclosed space.
The two walked forward into that light together, and Blake’s eyes locked on the person standing near the entrance. Any other person might’ve looked around at the decorations, like Sun was doing, or combed the crowd for people they knew. Blake didn’t that or anything else, just looked straight ahead.
She only watched Yang, who stood behind a podium and was examining something with her eyes narrowed in concentration. She tapped her finger against the slanted surface a couple times, lips shifting in a half frown. She wore a stylish white dress that showed off her shoulders and accented the vibrant purple of her eyes.
When the sound of the doors shutting echoed into the hall, Yang finally looked up. Her eyes locked onto Blake’s, and her frown shifted immediately into a bright smile.
“Welcome to the dance!” Yang practically glowed as she greeted them, gesturing with one hand towards the dancers behind her. Blake knew that Yang only actually glowed when she used her semblance, yet it was hard to believe that she wasn’t doing so now. “Glad you could both make it!” Blake allowed her lips to quirk up as she nodded in reply.
“Thanks!” Sun responded with the same high level of energy as Yang. “The place looks great!”
Yang’s eyes left Blake to move to him. “You can thank Weiss for that, she made the final touches juuuust before it started.” Her eyes twinkled with the extended word, as if there was a joke being left unsaid.
“I think I will.” Sun lifted his head and looked around the crowd, turning back to Blake after a moment of searching. “Want to come with?”
There was something she needed to do first, something important. “You go on ahead.” Blake gently removed her hand from his arm. “I’ll catch up with you.”
“See you on the dance floor.” Sun winked, gave a half wave, and then vanished into the crowd. Blake didn’t watch him go, instead turning her attention back to her partner. Yang, who was gleefully using a pen to check something off on her podium, looked back up at Blake.
For a few seconds, silence hung between them. Or rather, only the music emanating from the dance floor carried through the air past them. Blake inhaled to speak, but the words she looked for faded before they could leave her lips. She foolishly hadn’t expected this to be difficult. “How’s the dance been going so far?” She asked an easier question instead.
“Better, now that you’re here.” Yang’s smooth reply was accompanied by a toothy smile, one that stretched across her face. She looked at ease, unbothered by the tumult of the dance she had planned going on around her.
“Did you still want to, umm…” Blake could feel her cheeks warm as she tried again to put this question together, hoping she hadn’t misunderstood what Yang said before. A worse fear flashed through her mind, sending a cold chill down her spine. What if Yang had been lying to her? She had no reason to think that, no indication that Yang had ever been anything but honest, but it had happened with others.
For a moment Yang gave her an odd look, as if she didn’t understand, before her eyes lit up with recognition. “To dance?” She asked with a smirk.
Blake fought back an unwanted and unasked for wave of relief as she nodded her reply silently. When Yang extended one hand towards her over the podium, fingers outstretched and eager, she took it without any further hesitation.
The walk onto the dance floor was only a handful of steps, but with Yang guiding her by the hand Blake hardly paid attention to them. Yang’s grip on her fingers felt steady and secure, much like Yang was as a person. She weaved them effortlessly past the moving couples until they stopped in a relatively open space.
Yang turned back towards Blake, releasing her hand and stepping close so they were less than a foot apart. She gingerly placed her right hand around Blake’s back, while offering her left one up and to the side. Blake knew how she was supposed to respond. She lifted her left hand to Yang’s shoulder and brought her other one to meet Yang’s waiting hand. Their fingers intertwined in a way they hadn’t before, with those two points of contact spreading a comfortable warmth to Blake’s chest.
As the pair started to move, to step forward and backward in time with the music, Blake eased into the patterns of the dance. Her nerves and fears from before had been unfounded, now she could just enjoy the evening and their time together. That was what Yang had told her before, to slow down and relax. Blake was starting to realize that she truly meant it.
She kept her eyes on Yang as they danced, exploring her features and searching for something; she didn’t know what. She was always watching the people around her, waiting to see how they would react and what they would do. Even now, in this calm moment, Blake’s behavior didn’t change. Her partner looked serene as they moved in a way that was so different from her usual self. She hardly looked like the same woman who could take down a whole pack of Grimm by herself. Her lips were lifted up in a soft smile, eyes glimmering in the low light of the dance hall. Yang always wore her emotions clearly visible like this to anyone who took the time to look, even if Blake didn’t always understand what she saw. Her eyes swam with emotion, practically overflowed with it. They were purple now, as they usually were, but Blake had seen them red and angry.
The first time was when they became partners, all the way back at the start of the school year. Blake had decided to hang back and watch in the forest before committing to a partnership with anybody. After how her last partnership ended up, well, she was being cautious. When she saw Yang, she watched and waited first. After seeing her search for her sister and demolish a large Grimm in the process, Blake made up her mind and hadn’t looked back.
With every passing day she was gladder that she did. Somehow, she had found a partner who would be there for her, who would fight by her side. She found someone who would offer advice when she struggled, who would be a ray of light in the darkness. To have a partner she trusted to watch her back was a new feeling, one that filled Blake with comfort and warmth.
She hadn’t told Yang yet about the forest; there was never a good time. Maybe now as they danced, maybe she could muster herself to share a bit more with the woman who shined in her life like the sun.
Yang suddenly interrupted her thoughts by pulling her hand up to spin Blake around, much faster than the song they danced to called for. She laughed as they came back together, likely at the confused look on Blake’s face. Blake couldn’t help but smile back as the pair kept dancing.
After Yang stopped laughing, her expression softened once again. It was a look that made Blake’s heart freeze in her chest, one that terrified her almost as much as it thrilled her. “I really am glad that you came tonight.” The grip of Yang’s fingers tightened minutely between Blake’s as she spoke, her tone quiet and low. Maybe a human would’ve had trouble hearing it above the music, but even with the bow Blake’s cat ears picked it up perfectly.
“Well, you did invite me.” Blake replied bluntly, ignoring the increased hammering of her heart in her chest. She considered telling her, sharing those thoughts she held so close. To tell Yang how much she appreciated the talk the other day, or how incredibly strong she thought she was. Or even to tell her about the forest and how grateful she was to have picked Yang as her partner.
The song carried on around them, but the words didn’t come. The treacherous fearful part of her brain hissed to pull back, to flee, to not let these feelings grow. Blake shoved that feeling down but couldn’t stifle it entirely. “Thank you.” Was all she managed to say.
“For you, anytime.” From the look in her eyes, from everything Blake knew about her, Yang seemed to mean that.
A moment later when Yang pulled back for a spin, she also released Blake’s hand. This was the end of their single dance together. The two bowed once before Yang turned and walked away, quickly replaced by Sun.
Blake took up a very similar dancing position with him, resuming her movements to the music. It was different, dancing with him, but still fun.
Even as she danced the rest of the night with Sun, she wouldn’t forget that single dance with Yang. How could she forget her partner, the reason she came to this dance at all, and the person she was most grateful to have met.
Perhaps, Blake thought as she glanced over to where the rest of her team had gathered, she had finally met the right people. Perhaps someday she’d be able to tell them.
_________________________________________________________
Despite that, or perhaps because of it, there were many times that Blake and Yang didn't say what they were thinking.
Next Chapter
#rwby#bumbleby#blake belladonna#yang xiao long#rwby fic#flip writes#chapter 1 of what I hope to be a decent length fic#wish me luck#bumbleby fic#edit: added the line at the end#because my friend was scolding me#for having the framing device only in the summary#so now it's clearer
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RHW: Chapter Three
Story Page / Playlist / Wattpad / AO3
A/N: I am so unbelievably sorry that this is only just getting to you! I've been on holiday to the coast this week and totally forgot to schedule the chapter before I left. Then when I got there, I had pretty much no signal and no access to any decent internet so when I tried to post it, it failed. However, it does mean you get two chapters this week which is a bonus! Thank you for your patience.
And thank you, as always, to my saving grace during this whole writing process, @brayndilyn. You are amazing and I'm so lucky that you popped into my DMs that day last year. Life is brighter with you in it!
Warnings: Explicit language, narcissistic behaviours, rough relationships with maternal figure.
Word Count: 7.4k
December 23rd, 2021
Last minute work obligations for Taron and planning a book tour while also trying to continue her job for Liliana resulted in them not seeing one another since they’d had dinner and drinks. It wasn’t for lack of trying, either. They had both offered multiple dates that they were free but their schedules never lined up properly which neither of them enjoyed.
Despite their busy schedules, they had maintained their regular text conversations and it had reached a point that if Liliana hadn’t heard from Taron for as little as a few hours, she noticed she’d started to pout which worried her. The attachment she had for being friends with Taron again was growing stronger and his absence had begun to affect her more than she cared to admit.
It wasn’t a secret that she had been far happier since getting him back in her life. Though it only heightened how unhappy she had been before. If she was this sad not hearing from him for a few hours, she dreaded to think how she would feel if the happiness she’d only just gotten back was taken away. No doubt she would be worse than before the book launch. The thought alone scared her.
If Liliana had been completely honest with herself, not something she was regularly, she would have told herself that the feelings she had for Taron were slowly beginning to transform into slightly more romantic feelings of late. It had been Evelyn’s comment about them being a power couple that made her realise. She didn’t hate the comment her best friend had made, and found herself fantasising about a life with Taron on the tube home that evening.
It wasn’t difficult to imagine the future and what it could look like with Taron. Them being together and doing all the things; the small domestic activities like cooking together or watching TV curled up in one another’s arms, and the grand things like holidays abroad and attending events on one another’s arms. At work she found herself drifting off to think about him until Evelyn came into her office and knocked her back to reality with a thud.
Liliana’s feelings were unrequited. He couldn’t ever feel that way about her. He was an award winning actor and she was, well she was Liliana. She had a published book and that was as interesting as her life got. How could he ever think that way about her? He never did when they were younger. What would have changed in the years they weren’t in contact with one another?
As their road trip to Aberystwyth approached, Liliana couldn’t stop thinking about being in such an enclosed space with Taron for so long. Her stomach twisted any time she thought about it. Every night before bed she gave herself a peptalk, telling herself that she had to play it cool and see if she could get a read on Taron to decipher how he felt about her. If he felt anything about her at all.
It wasn’t the time to be making any grand gestures. They’d only been in contact again for a little over six weeks and she didn’t want to ruin what they had built back up. Especially not so close to Christmas.
On the morning he was due to pick her up for the drive home, she’d been a ball of nerves since her eyes opened. She anxiously flitted around her flat trying to get everything packed and tidied up before he got there. She cleaned every room twice and had reached the point of moving things from one place to another and then decided that she preferred them where they were before so moved them back. It was a vicious cycle that she couldn’t get herself out of. Until Taron arrived.
Taron had arrived a little earlier than planned to pick Liliana up, which was absolutely unheard of with London traffic, and Liliana wasn’t quite ready. She’d been in the middle of grabbing her toiletries when he texted to let her know he was there.
I’m just finishing getting my stuff together. I’ll buzz you in and you can come wait up here if you’d like? Instead of sitting in the car x
No problem. I’ll be there shortly x
No more than a second had passed between him pressing the buzzer and Liliana letting him in, pulling her front door open so he could walk right in without having to knock. Not that she would have wanted him to knock. All of her friends let themselves into her flat and she wanted Taron to feel comfortable enough to do the same.
With her suitcase now packed completely, she moved to the living room to get her handbag ready. When it came to roadtrips, no matter how short, she took them seriously. She stood in front of her bookshelf and stared at her many books to decide which one to take with her. Her own book, which was selling out everywhere at a rapid pace, sat front and centre staring at her and she smiled to herself.
‘I know you said your flat was tiny but this is petite,’ Taron commented as he walked through the front door into the narrow entryway that led to each of the three main rooms. He stepped around the suitcase Liliana had left and into the living room where she was trying to pick a book. ‘You know you’re only going for a week, right? That’s one hell of a suitcase for that short a trip.’
His words were light and teasing but Liliana went into panic mode. ‘If it’s too big for the car I can get a smaller one. It’s just got all of the Christmas presents I need to take and I don’t have any spare clothes at mum’s or anything.’
‘I was joking,’ he said quickly, putting his hands on her shoulders. ‘It’s fine. There’s plenty of space. Hello, by the way.’
‘Hi,’ she smiled, allowing him to pull her in for a hug. He smelled good. Fresh and clean and warm. Her arms tightened around his middle a little before she pulled away. ‘I just need to decide on a book to bring with me, or two because I get through books like I do cups of tea, and make sure everything is switched off and things are tidy and then I’m ready. Sorry I wasn’t ready to go when you got here.’
‘Don’t be sorry. I’m early. I was shocked at the lack of traffic, especially considering it’s the day before Christmas Eve.’
‘Merry Christmas,’ Liliana said, pulling two books from the shelf and putting them in her bag. ‘I can’t believe it’s already here.’
She walked through to the kitchen with Taron hot on her tail. The room was small and barely big enough for them both to stand in there at the same time. Their close proximity heightened their senses and Liliana had to clear her throat to break herself back into reality.
Taron cleared his own throat and offered to help Liliana check the switches. He himself had spent a good fifteen minutes checking each room of his flat to make sure that everything was in order. Liliana accepted his offer and asked if he could triple check the living room for her. He saluted playfully and headed back to the other room while Liliana took a deep, much needed breath.
‘I may have gone overboard because I got us some snacks for the road and I didn’t know what you’d prefer so there’s a selection of goodies from chocolate to snack bars to fruit,’ she confessed as she left her bedroom and pulled the curtain closed. ‘Knowing me I will also buy more snacks if we make a stop anywhere on the way there.’
Taron chuckled. ‘That sounds amazing. I’ve packed a couple of bits too and I always stop. I thought we could maybe stop for lunch? Even if it’s a drive-thru meal somewhere. You ready to go?’
Liliana nodded, reaching forward to grab her suitcase but Taron stopped her, his hand already on the handle pushing it down so that he could carry it easier. ‘I’ve got it, don’t worry. You just make sure that everything is locked up properly.’
‘You are a menace,’ she laughed as she followed him out of the flat. ‘But thank you. Make sure you watch me lock up. I will ask multiple times if I actually did lock up. I have already asked Marjorie across the way if she’ll keep an eye on things for me.’
Taron watched intently as Liliana locked the door and tried it to make sure that it was actually locked. ‘It’s locked. Come on, let’s get going.’
***
‘See that, that is why I refuse to drive in London. I hate how impatient other drivers are. Did you see the way he gestured at you?’ Taron had switched lanes on Wandsworth bridge over the Thames when a car sped in front of him and caused him to slam the brakes on. Taron had simply brushed the incident off but Liliana was baffled. ‘We’ve been on the road for five minutes and I already don’t know how you can drive so casually here. It’s awful.’
Taron chuckled softly from next to her, turning his attention to her when they hit a red light and he had to stop. ‘When was the last time you drove?’
Liliana thought for a moment. She had driven once in London, right when she first moved, and hated it so much that she hadn’t driven since. But even before that she rarely drove.
‘Oh god at least eight years,’ she laughed. ‘I never really enjoyed driving anyway. I much prefer being the one in control of the music. Which, by the way, I am excellent at, thank you very much.’
As they got in the car, Taron passed the auxiliary cable over, telling Liliana that she may be in charge of the music, just as long as her music taste was better than it was when she was a teenager. She’d laughed him off but quietly deleted three songs from the playlist she’d made the night before just in case.
‘You are going to have to give me some songs to add otherwise it’s going to be a Harry Styles road trip which personally, I wouldn’t be against. But that’s me who’s a fan of his.’
‘You know I met him once,’ Taron said casually, keeping his eyes on the road. Though he didn’t fail to notice her face turn towards him suddenly, no doubt with wide eyes. He’d just about seen her drop the phone into her lap.
‘You met him?’ She asked, blinking rapidly. ‘Harry Styles? What? When? Huh? How do I not know about this already? My two favourite men.’
She’d let the last sentence slip on accident but couldn’t take it back. Taron had heard it, and the twitch of his lips made it clear that he definitely had heard it. He laughed lightly and indicated into the junction so he could get on the motorway for the big portion of the drive.
‘It was a couple of years ago now in LA. It was this big meeting thing with Joni Mitchell. There were a few other people there too. Ellen Degeneres and Portia.’
‘Yeah, yeah cool. But you met Harry Styles?’
‘I did. We didn’t speak much but we had a good chat. Then there was this group photo that circulated the internet for a few days. He looked so much more put together than I did. I think he had this black cardigan on with a pattern on the front or something. I was there in a white t-shirt and a baseball cap.’
Liliana’s eyes widened. ‘I think I know the photo. Was it around this time of year? Joni had Christmas lights around her neck. I’ve seen a cropped photo of Harry and her. But you were there? Holy shit, Taron.’
She sits with the information for a little while, unable to process the fact that her best friend knows the man whose music got her through some of the hardest days of her writing process. Just as she thought about it, Sign of the Times started playing.
‘Do you think you could introduce us?’ She asked, letting her inner fangirl out. ‘That would make my entire life, honestly. Getting to meet Harry? Oh boy.’
Taron turned to look at her briefly, his eyes soft and full of adoration. ‘Absolutely not,’ he said, shaking his head before turning back to the road in front. ‘You’ll fall for him and I’ll lose you again.’
‘You won't lose me again,’ Liliana laughs solemnly.
Taron’s words sat heavy on her chest. I’ll lose you again. He’d lost her once before. She’d left him. What was once her strongest friendship with her favourite person on the entire planet had been thrown away so that she could run away to another country for a life where she didn’t have to be around her mum. The giddiness she experienced knowing that Taron knew Harry vanished and she was overcome with a solemn, uneasy feeling.
‘I’m really, really sorry,’ she whispered. She’d moved back to face forward and had let her hands drop to her lap. ‘For leaving. I’m sorry for leaving.’
‘Please don’t,’ he whispered back, sniffling once to rid himself of the tears pooling in his eyes. ‘It’s in the past. The only thing that matters now is that you’re here. I’m here. We’re here.’
Wordlessly, he reached over to grab her hand, resting them both together on the centre console. They weren’t holding hands but they were touching, and it was enough for them both to know that they were safe and with one another.
Taron didn’t need Liliana to apologise for leaving. He didn’t want her to. It may have taken him over a decade but he knew why she had to leave. He read her book. It told him things even he didn’t know growing up. It told him more than he could have ever imagined and his heart shattered into millions of tiny pieces as he read the intricate details of her childhood. The details she hadn’t shared with him before.
As much as he wanted to bring up what had been revealed to him in the pages, he didn’t want to make Liliana talk about it if she didn’t want to. He couldn’t begin to imagine how difficult it must have been for her to put everything down into words, to come to terms with what happened in her life. It can’t have been easy to publish that and have so many people read it and know about it.
He was in awe of the strength it must have taken her to bare her soul in such a way to the entire world. Reading the book that she’d so delicately written made Taron see Liliana for the strong, independent, powerful, yet softly adorable woman she was.
He didn’t bring it up for a little while. He let himself enjoy the comfortable silence, no matter how overrated he thought it was, and let Liliana have a few moments to herself. His hand remained touching hers the entire time and he wanted so badly to run his pinky finger over her to reassure her but he didn’t want to scare her or make her feel uncomfortable. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since their dinner and he was over the moon to see her again and spend a few uninterrupted hours with her.
‘Lil,’ he said after a little while, unable to keep it in any longer. She turned to him with red rimmed eyes and when he turned to her momentarily, his heart cracked just a little. ‘It’s none of my business, and we absolutely don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to but it’s been on my mind ever since I read your book.’
Liliana’s heart stopped. She knew that he would more than likely have read some of the book since she’d seen him last. But she hadn’t expected him to read the entire thing cover to cover with his busy schedule. She’d expressed feelings in the book that she hadn’t ever expressed with him and now he knew. He knew everything she’d been too afraid to tell him.
Taron was back to facing the road and he took a long, shaky breath. It was just as hard for him to bring up as it would be for Liliana to talk about. ‘I never realised the full extent of how bad you had it when we were younger. You always just threw your hair up and smiled like everything was fine when it really wasn’t. I wish I could have recognised it more at the time.’
‘Taron, it’s fine.’
‘It’s not fine, Lil,’ he sniffled. ‘It’s not fine. It was never fine.’
‘But it’s not your fault. We were kids. You were a kid. It wasn’t your responsibility to help me or see what things were like at home. I didn’t even realise the full extent of it until I was in Edinburgh and away from the situation. It took a lot of reflection, and a lot of crying in a therapist’s office, to realise what things were like. When we were kids, I didn’t know any different. It was just the way that I lived.’
A tear fell down Taron’s cheek and Liliana wiped it with the pad of her thumb, a sad smile on her face as she started to cry herself.
‘Look at us. I’m crying and none of it even happened to me.’ He took a long, deep, shaky breath and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his t-shirt. ‘I regret that we lost touch.’
Liliana squeezed his hand once to tell him that she agreed and he smiled a very small smile at her.
‘We just completely lost touch and didn’t speak for fourteen years. I hate that we didn’t talk.’ His words were quiet, barely above a whisper, almost as if he were talking to himself rather than Liliana. ‘Now that we’ve finally reconnected, I would love nothing more than to stay in touch. I want us to keep our promises this time. I think that’s why I offered to drive you back to Aber. It gives us some uninterrupted time to just be together and talk about anything. Or nothing. I just want to be around you, Lil. I want us to be friends again. Real friends like we were before.’
‘I would love nothing more than to be friends again,’ Liliana smiled.
‘Things will be different this time around,’ Taron said strongly. ‘I won’t let anything like that happen to you again.’
They fell into another silence and Liliana focused on the road ahead. She thought back to being a child and how different her life really had been from the other kids in her class. Taron’s hand on hers kept her grounded as she remembered.
While all of her friends were out playing on the street on their bikes or playing with a ball in the local field, Liliana was cleaning or cooking dinner for the family. Even when she was as young as nine. She would go to the shop daily when they had run out of bread or milk or sugar and they needed more. When her friends were being called inside to get in the bath, she was making her mum a cup of tea so that she wouldn’t get into trouble.
Liliana would do everything in her power to make her mum happy, just so she could feel safe in her own house. If Eliza wasn’t happy, she would brush Liliana off completely. It had started before her dad left but it only got worse when he did. Eliza resented Liliana and took her anger and frustration out on her. Liliana being the kid that she was, would always plaster a smile on her face and act as though nothing was wrong, using the free time she had to go outside with Taron or visit his family when she needed somewhere safe to be.
She wiped a tear away without Taron seeing and blinked hard to stop herself from falling apart right there in his car. Taron had remained quiet but he knew she was going into a place that would make her sad and he wanted to cheer her up so he racked his brain for things he could distract her with.
‘Tell me more about Matilda,’ he said, remembering how Liliana had lit up the first time she told him about her.
‘She’s a little firecracker,’ she laughed, pulling up a photo of her on her phone to show Taron quickly while there was no traffic around. ‘She turned ten in August but if you knew her, you wouldn’t believe she was any younger than 21. She’s so smart. Smarter than I ever was at her age, and she’s got these beautiful brown eyes that just scream innocence. It’s one of the only differences between us; our eye colour. And our height. She’ll be taller than me soon. Her dad is a giant though so it doesn’t surprise me. She’s everything I ever wanted. Tell me more about Rosie and Marie. We were cut off the other week.’
‘If Matilda is a firecracker then they are little rascals,’ he chuckled, his head shaking. ‘They are to me what Matilda is to you. They’re my half siblings but I would never call them anything but my sisters. I hate the whole half sibling thing. They are my sisters and it’s as simple as that.’
Liliana nodded furiously. ‘Yes! Matilda is my sister. I’d be so mean to be like ‘no she’s just my half sister’. She isn’t half a sibling. She’s a full sibling.’
‘Exactly. They are honestly so amazing and I can’t wait to see them. They’re similar ages to Matilda. Maybe one day we could take them all out somewhere and they could get to know another. Continue the legacy of friendship.’
‘That’d be cool. Matilda loves meeting and talking to new people. Another difference between the two of us. Thank you for cheering me up. I don’t know how you always manage to do it. Even when you don’t know I need cheering up.’
Taron grabbed her hand affectionately. ‘It’s because I know you, Lil.’
***
‘Do you want me to come inside with you for a little bit?’
‘I’m okay, thank you though,’ Liliana responded with a smile.
She turned to her left and looked at the house she grew up in. It still looked like the same house. The bricks were still red and the path from the steps was worn and full of weeds. Yet somehow it felt different than it had the previous year and she couldn’t quite figure out why. It was the only house on the street without Christmas lights outside but she didn’t think that was it.
‘If you need anything, just let me know,’ Taron replied with a smile. Liliana returned it and took a deep breath. ‘I’m here for you, Lil.’
‘I know you are, thank you, Taron. I’ll text you later?’
Taron nodded and watched as Liliana stepped through the gate and up towards the house. He didn’t know what was waiting for her at the other side of the door but he could only hope that it was something good.
Rather than use her key to get in the house, Liliana knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer it. Much to her surprise, Hudson, her mum’s husband, opened it with a smile, pulling her into an awkward side hug.
‘It’s nice to see you. Your mum’s just nipped to do some last minute Christmas shopping. I don’t envy her.’
‘Neither do I,’ Liliana said through a forced smile. ‘Merry Christmas.’
‘Merry Christmas. I’m sure your sister will be down any minute. She’s making some Christmas biscuits and is waiting for them to cool so she can decorate them. Every time someone’s knocked at the door today she’s come to see if it’s you. I think she’s more excited for you to be here than she is Santa. Not that she’ll believe in him for much longer. Especially with her starting high school next year.’
‘High schoolers suck,’ Liliana sighed. ‘You go get yourself in the house. It’s absolutely freezing out there and I don’t want to let it all in.’
Hudson walked through to the living room just as Liliana heard a door shut upstairs. She watched as her little sister, who wasn’t so little anymore, peered over the bannister and beamed as soon as she saw her.
‘LILI!’ she squealed as she ran down the stairs, launching herself into Liliana’s arms and knocking her to the floor in a heap of hugs. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you too, little bug.’ Liliana’s voice broke and she tried her best not to cry. She held Matilda close, swaying her lightly. ‘Come on, your dad was telling me that you’ve been making biscuits and you know I love a good old Matilda biscuit.’
Matilda stood up and waited impatiently for Liliana to join her before she dragged her through to the kitchen. The dining table was covered in biscuits and bowls of icing of different colours. Bowls that were used to make the dough were scattered across the work tops and the sink was full of trays and cookie cutters.
The amount of flour that was on every surface made it look like it had been snowing inside and Liliana was sure there was biscuit dough on the walls in places.
‘Oh my this is a mess,’ she commented with a beaming grin. ‘How about I help you clean it all up before mum gets back?’
Matilda nodded begrudgingly. ‘The biscuits aren’t cooled enough anyway so I guess I can help clean up. Do you think you could help me decorate them? Please? It’s been ages since we last baked together.’
Liliana nodded, turning the small kitchen radio up a little so that they could listen to the Christmas songs while they cleaned. All I Want for Christmas is You played into the room and the two girls smiled widely at one another, instantly breaking out into their best dance moves and singing along.
Matilda started to stack the pots she’d used next to the sink so that they could be cleaned while Liliana carefully wiped the walls that were definitely splattered with biscuit dough and scraped the sides of flour so that she could clean them properly.
Once the room was clean and tidy, and the biscuits were finally cool enough to decorate, Matilda grabbed two aprons from behind the door and threw one to her big sister.
‘If you wear this then we won’t get icing all over your nice jumper,’ she said, tying her own apron behind her waist.
‘When did you get so grown up?’ Liliana mused, holding the sides of Matilda’s head so she could bring it to her lips to plant a sloppy kiss. ‘How do you want to decorate these?’
‘With as much icing as we can!’ Matilda dipped her finger into the green icing and licked it clean, smiling so brightly as she did that she lit some of the darkness in Liliana’s heart.
‘I should have known. I forget that you’re little miss obsessed with icing. They’re your biscuits so it’s up to you what we do with them.’
Matilda thought for a moment, tapping her foot against the chair the same way that Liliana did when she was her age. Liliana smiled at her little sister, so in awe of the person she was becoming. When she was Matilda’s age, her life looked so different. She was glad that it was different for her sister. That she wouldn’t have to go through the things she did.
‘I’m taking some to Granny and Grandad’s house tomorrow so they need to look super good. Can we do melting snowmen on the circle ones?’
Liliana nodded enthusiastically. ‘Of course we can! I might have some spare chocolates in my bag if you want to go get them? We could use it for buttons? Or eyes maybe.’
‘Oh yes please!’
Matilda jumped down and ran through to the hallway to retrieve Liliana’s handbag, walking back with it on her shoulder and strutting as if she were the grown adult. Liliana laughed at her and took the bag to see what she had left from the car journey.
She pulled out a bag of M&Ms and some Jelly Tots, the perfect things for snowmen buttons. ‘These are perfect.’
‘Jelly Tots, my favourite!’ Liliana poured some of the jelly sweets into Matilda’s hand and watched as she ate them happily. ‘Thank you. Other than the snowmen I want to take to Granny’s tomorrow, I don’t know what to do with the others so let’s just do whatever.’
‘Aye aye, captain,’ Liliana saluted. ‘Are you excited to see your Granny and Grandad tomorrow?’
Matilda nodded. ‘Yeah. Are you coming with us?’
‘I’m not, sorry sweetheart. I’m going to stay here and either go for a walk or go and see my friend if he isn’t busy.’
‘Are you going to be here for dinner tomorrow though?’
Liliana shrugged gently. ‘That depends on if mum wants me here, sweet girl. Hopefully I’ll be here.’
Her mum walked into the kitchen and scoffed at Liliana. ‘What’s it matter to me if you come for dinner or not? You come and go as you please anyway.’
‘Mum, please let’s not do this right now,’ Liliana begged, already feeling tears forming. ‘It’s Christmas.’
‘When was the last time you asked if you could come, huh? You just turn up. Like you did today. You turn up and then you leave at the drop of a hat and we don’t see you for months at a time. You aren’t around enough so why should I care if you’re here or not for dinner?’
Matilda cowered into her seat and reached over to put her hand on Liliana’s, looking up at her through thick eyelashes. Liliana gave her a small smile and motioned for her to leave the kitchen, for her own benefit. She didn’t need to hear the horrible things her mum was no doubt about to say.
Liliana watched as her mum flipped the kettle on and grabbed a mug from the cupboard. It was a mug Liliana had made her in school and painted meticulously. She wondered if her mum remembered how happy she had been to receive it. Probably not with how she slammed it onto the work top.
‘I always come at Christmas. You know that. I would love to come more often but I have to put myself and my happiness first.’
Eliza rolled her eyes at her oldest daughter and put her hand on her hip. ‘Do you know how selfish that is, Liliana? You don’t care about Matilda, or me, or put us first. It’s always about you and how you come first. You should have stayed closer to home and not run away to Edinburgh and London. Look at what you moving away has caused. You’re selfish.’
‘That’s not true and you know it isn’t,’ Liliana just about managed to get out. Tears had pooled in her eyes and she knew if she stayed then things would only get worse and she didn’t want that.
She wasn’t going to be the reason that Christmas was ruined for Matilda so she grabbed her bag, walked outside, closed the door behind her and started to walk.
The last thing she wanted to do was leave Matilda again. She wanted to go back and get her but she knew that it was too soon to be around Eliza again. It wasn’t the first time that she’d left Matilda after a row with her mum, and it wasn’t the first time her mum had called her selfish either.
September 15th, 2011
‘North Road, please.’
Liliana sat back in the taxi and exhaled a long breath. The greying clouds above the car reflected her mood. Dull and ready to burst at any given second. She rested her head against the window as the taxi drove through the streets of Aberystwyth and to the house she’d grown up in. Her small suitcase filled with only the essentials was on the seat next to her and she put her hand on it for no reason.
Despite the deep rooted feeling of anxiety she had whenever she was home, she was excited to head back and start her new job in London. She started working at a publishing company, Between the Lines, at the end of the week with Evelyn, who she had met at university. The flat she was moving into was small and a good half an hour commute to work but it was her own and she could do with it what she pleased. Moving to London was all she had wanted.
The taxi pulled up outside the house with the red front door and Liliana thanked him and handed over a five pound note, telling him to keep the forty-pence change. He nodded his gratitude before driving off when the back door was closed, leaving Liliana standing outside the house on her own for the first time since she was a teenager.
She couldn’t tell if the house was bigger or smaller than it was when she was younger. It seemed taller, as if booming over her and showing her just how vulnerable she was in its presence. But at the same time, it seemed narrower, less scary than it once looked.
As she walked up the short, tiled path to the front door she breathed deeply. A whole other life was at the other side of the door. A whole other family. A family she wasn’t a part of. Not really. Her mum and stepdad were happily married with a new baby and it was the first time that she was seeing her new sister since she’d been born a little over a month earlier.
Something that she couldn’t quite decipher washed over her as she pushed the door open on its hinges. Her feet were heavy, stuck to the wooden floor and unable to move, but she felt like she was floating. As though she wasn’t really there. Like she was dreaming and nothing was really happening.
Everything looked the same as she slipped her shoes off and stacked them on one of the steps above her mum’s. There were old family photos on the wall, some of her grandparents and some of Eliza with her siblings. Out of all the photos, there was only one of Liliana. It was a photo from when she was a baby dressed in white with the most unfortunate looking bonnet on her head. She was both happy and devastated that it was covered by coats.
‘Liliana, is that you?’ Her mum called from the living room. Liliana psyched herself up and forced a smile on her lips.
‘Yeah, mum. I’m just putting my shoes away and then I’ll come in.’
The living room door was slightly ajar and as Liliana pushed it open, she could see her baby sister asleep in the moses basket next to the sofa. Even just the sight of the tiny baby curled up all small and tiny had Liliana fighting back tears. Guilt had built up since the day she was born that she hadn’t seen her and even though she was still so small, Liliana hated that she wasn’t there when she was even tinier.
‘Can I hold her?’ She asked her mum quietly, scared to wake the tiny baby.
‘Yeah. I’m going to go get in the shower while you’re here. I’ll not be long.’
Liliana nodded through a teary smile and dropped her handbag on the sofa so that she could take a proper look at her sister. Her hands were curled into tiny fists next to her head and her lips were pouted slightly, something that Liliana did when she slept. With one hand underneath her neck to support her head and one under her bum, Liliana lifted the baby from the basket and held her close, staring at her.
At almost twenty-two, she didn’t expect to have a new sibling but as soon as her sister was in her arms, she could feel the emotions manifesting wholly. Tears dropped down her cheeks as she sat on the sofa and just stared at the baby. She enjoyed the dumpy weight of her sister in her arms.
Liliana held out one of her fingers to stroke the little one’s fingers and they gripped around it tightly, not letting her go.
‘I’m not quite sure how it’s possible but I love you more than I’ve loved anything before,’ she whispered quietly, pressing a dainty kiss to her sister’s forehead. ‘I won’t let anybody hurt you, Matilda, I promise. I’ll always be your protector.’
Matilda stirred slightly but Liliana rocked her back to sleep, so in awe of the tiny human in her arms.
‘Look at you,’ Eliza spoke up from the doorway when she’d had her shower. ‘It’s about time you came to meet her.’
‘Mum, you know I’ve been finishing university and trying to get my life together. I haven’t been able to be here all of the time like I wanted to be and I am sorry.’
When Eliza told her that the baby had been born, Liliana went to book a train ticket straight away to meet her, even if it was just for the day. She wanted to help her mum and meet her sister and be there for her family the way she had always wanted to, but Eliza had continuously put the visit off for one reason or another.
Liliana could understand some of the time, like when she was too tired for visitors. But then the excuses that she needed to get used to looking after a baby after not having one for over twenty years, and needing to take time for herself, became more common and Liliana stopped fighting. She stopped trying to tell her mum that she could nap while Liliana looked after Matilda or she could have a bath or shower. Liliana would be there for whatever she needed. Eliza never let her though.
Eliza scoffed loudly. ‘You’re just selfish, that’s what it is. Spending more time away from us, your home, and swanning about Scotland as if nobody else matters. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Liliana’
Liliana tried her best not to bite. Instead she casts her gaze to Matilda who was so sweet and innocent and who she would do anything in her power to change the way she was treated. When she looked back up to her mum she saw just how tired she looked. For a second she felt great sympathy for her. She wasn’t used to not sleeping at night and waking up at all hours to look after a baby. And that’s what it took for her mind to race with thoughts of her mum being unable to look after Matilda.
She didn’t want the same things she went through to happen to Matilda. She wanted her sister to have the best childhood with loving parents in a loving home that always felt like a safe space and somewhere she could run to when she was feeling down. Liliana didn’t want Matilda to feel like she had to run away to a different country for university just to get away from their mum.
Eliza’s new husband, Hudson, worked long hours and was only there on an evening and night time when Matilda was a little more settled. He wasn’t there during the day when Matilda would scream for hours at a time with no let up. He wasn’t there when Eliza was rocking her trying to get her to sleep and growing more and more agitated with her and wanting to leave her on her own to cry.
‘Mum, I know that university has taken me away and I hate that I haven’t been here for the start of Matilda’s life but I’m here now. I’m here to support you however you need it. Even if it’s just to go shower in peace and make yourself feel like you again.’
She knew there was a chance that Eliza would blow up but she didn’t think it would happen while she had Matilda in her arms.
‘Why, are you planning on moving back home? Are you finally going to do what you were destined to do and get a job on the seafront and get one of the crappy flats in town? Which is it? How are you going to be here, Liliana?’
‘I moved to London last week,’ Liliana said calmly, rocking Matilda again. ‘I have a job with the same publishing company that I worked with for placement a couple of years ago. It’s a huge opportunity for me and I’m going to be a shorter train ride away than I was in Edinburgh. So I can be here whenever you need me. I want to be here, for Matilda.’
Eliza shook her head. ‘You need to stop butting into our lives here. Leave.’
‘What?’
‘You haven’t been here for the past four years so what makes you think you’re going to be here now? You’re never here and I don’t think you ever will be. You just want to say that you’re here. But you won’t be. I want you to leave my house.’
‘But mu-’
‘Out, Liliana. I mean it.’
Liliana was transported back to being eleven and hearing her mum scream at her dad to get out of the house. Her heart sank and anxiety built from the bottom of her tummy to the top of her head. She stood up carefully and kissed Matilda’s head again before placing her gently in the moses basket.
‘I love you, little bug. I love you so much.’
She cried as she pulled her shoes on and got her suitcase from the small cupboard, and she cried as she left the house and locked the door again.
***
Despite Autumn’s fast approach, the air was warm and Liliana knew exactly where she needed to go to clear her head. On top of Constitution Hill the sun was warm and she’d taken her jacket off to enjoy the rays against her arms.
The tree behind her was beginning to transform, its leaves changing from a vibrant green to a reddish brown. Another sign of the changing season. The bark of the trunk was harsh against her back but nowhere near as harsh as her mother’s words had been to her less than an hour before.
A sob escaped her and tears spilled down her cheeks and pooled on her chest. Her breaths were sharp and uneven, as though hands wrapped around her throat and squeezed her of every ounce of breath, trapping her in a world of darkness.
Fear was second nature to Liliana. It had been since she was a little girl. But there was something about the fear she felt on top of the hill that was unlike anything she’d experienced before. She sobbed to herself for what felt like hours but as she finally began to calm down and her breathing regulated again, she pulled her phone from her bag and unlocked it.
Her thumb hovered over his contact. The one person she needed to speak to. The person who would understand what she was going through and who would be able to talk her down from doing anything crazy.
She put her phone away, unsure as to whether he would have the same number as he did four years ago, or if he would even answer if she tried to call him. So she stared at the sea instead, trying to figure out what she was going to do.
She booked a train ticket home for that afternoon. It wiped her out of money until she got paid two weeks later but she couldn’t stand being in town any longer. She needed to leave.
To go home.
#rhw#right here waiting#taron egerton#taron egerton au#taron egerton fluff#taron egerton blurb#taron egerton imagine#taron egerton fic#taron egerton fanfic#taron egerton writing#taron egerton x reader#taron egerton fanfiction#taron egerton x oc#taron egerton drabble#my writing
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I'm on a cruise right now so of course I'm thinking about my blorbos going on a cruise too. Idk why maybe there's wraith demons aboard a particular ship and the company is trying to cover it up. The point is: Nuns on a Boat. I'm sure the Vatican forks over the necessary funds, probably for a week-long trip, enough time to investigate, plan, execute, and clean up. The original plan was to send a small team of two or three, but Ava probably pesters the new Pope into paying for the whole gang to go (she definitely plays the Jesus card).
It goes like this: the official OCS sisters enter as a group of 4 (Mother, Camila, Yasmine, and Dora) while the remaining 4 split into 2 pairs, Avatrice undercover as newlyweds on a honeymoon (it's good practice for the real thing, Bea!) and Mary riding as a solo passenger (hiding Lilith in her room). They probably have a contact in the ship's crew that sneaks them keycards and pass codes to restricted areas and makes arrangements for them to be in the right place at the right time for recon purposes. I don't know what the demons are doing, maybe planning some kind of mass possession within an enclosed space, but whatever it is will require asskicking through overpriced shops and probably flinging several pool chairs around to solve.
Assorted ideas:
1. The list of shore excursions has to be pried from Ava's hands by Mary because The Second Coming of Christ canNOT be trusted with them. Not because she doesn't know what she's doing, but because if they let her go unchecked she'll have their days booked 6 ways to the Sabbath with several activities overlapping each other. Baby girl wants to do EVERYTHING, time constraints be damned!
2. Beatrice is a little nervous about their cover story, not because she doesn't love Ava or doesn't see them getting married eventually, but because she's still battling some shame about being affectionate in public. This is, of course, in stark contrast to Ava, who is ecstatic over the chance to be shamelessly close to Bea with the tacit excuse of the mission. She drags them to every couple-y event aboard the ship and has no qualms about basically climbing her girlfriend whenever she can get away with it.
3. The God Squad is properly outfitted for just about every situation that could come up, and that includes swimming. For the actual nuns in the party, this means tasteful one-pieces that still earn respectful wolf whistles from Ava and the requisite number of sexy nun jokes. Ava wears a predictably tiny bikini that drives the boys and girls wild while Bea wears a more modest two-piece that drives Ava wild. Mary draws all the attention in her suit that shows off her killer arms and excellent abs. Lilith has to be coaxed into her suit because she's self-conscious. Jillian has probably come up with some way to either reverse or hide her scales, but the result is probably a lot of burn tissue that is difficult to conceal. Ava buys her a long-sleeve swim shirt with some silly design that Lilith threatens her life over but wears anyway.
4. Circling back to the excursions, an argument breaks out about which they should do, and whether they should stick together or split up. It gets a little heated until Mother shuts it down with "We will be doing the dolphin swim and that's final." "But why that one?" "Because I want to do the dolphin swim."
5. Ava is banned from the ship buffet after the third time she tries to dispense ice cream directly into her mouth
6. Camila gets a lot of attention from the fellas, and she gets permission from a quietly proud Mother to indulge them so long as she gets more information for the mission
7. Yasmine sweeps the trivia contests, winning all manner of silly knickknack prizes that she cherishes.
8. We don’t know much about Dora but I'm going to assume that she’s a prodigy in mini golf and collects a following of children who ooo and aaa every time she hits a hole-in-one. She and Mary clown on the competition in shuffleboard
9. Some guy sees Ava by herself (Bea is probably getting them ice cream since she's not banned) and attempts to shoot his shot. It's Ava, unfairly charming and distressingly cute, so he's practically bewitched two sentences into the conversation, but Ava's just being her normal, puppy self. Bea sees them and starts getting jealous, threatening to crush her ice cream cone to bits, but when Ava sees her coming back, she lights up with a "heeeyyy Boo-Bear, there you are! I missed you!" And immediately abandons the dude to press against her girlfriend. The guy makes brief eye contact with Bea before wisely choosing to walk away. Better luck next time, bro.
10. The tables turn when Beatrice is lounging in the sun while Ava is away (probably pestering Lilith) and an interested lady sits next to her and starts making small talk. Beatrice is extremely polite and doesn't quite pick up on the fact she's being flirted with, but Lilith has to punch Ava in the arm to stop her lighting up like an angry glowstick at the sight. Ava does march over there though and turns the puppy energy up to 11, wrapping her arms around Beatrice, nuzzling their cheeks together and pressing in until she's basically in Bea's lap. Bea is flustered and embarrassed, but the lady catches on to what's what and gracefully makes her exit. Ava drags Bea to their room for some quality time while Lilith does her best to look like she doesn't know them.
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(non gender-specific) UMA!MC Descendants x TWST hc
(pov I caved even though I really didn’t wanna rewatch the movies for this but brain rot wouldn’t stop man.)
-second pov-
The start?
Okay, what in the name of Posiden is going on? Cursing the God of the sea himself, you tried your best to ram into the... Door? Lid? Of whatever small enclosed space you’ve been trapped in.
A week on the shores of Auradon and you’ve been seemingly kidnapped and buried alive? Wow, even life at the docks was better, at least there, the only threat was being thrown overboard.
-Uma!Mc wakes up in a coffin, cursing the god of the sea trying their best to not want to die
-Grim opens up their coffin and Uma!Mc, not wanting to find out who took them, leaves. Not sparing a glance at the fire-y cat thing in front of you.
-Grim, of course, follows you.
-The mirror declares their magic unreadable. Prompting everyone around them to assume they’re magicless, and cannon happens as usual.
“Huh, charming, reminds me of home.”
-Uma!Mc sees Ramshakle, compared to the rest of the school, and is immediately reminded of Auradon vs the Isle and suddenly their hands itched to be around some bird's neck.
-being assigned as a janitor to the school, Uma!Mc has thousands of questions about the logistics of the school. Do they- Did they really not question the kid from another universe and just saw some free labor??
-Ramshackle seems pretty bad but I’d assume it is actually better quality than a lot from the isle (especially since the lack of overcrowding..), so U!Mc actually feels like they’re at.. Home
-Seeing the statues throws them for a loop. Their mother? A kind wish-granting witch?? As if, if you wanted wishes you went to that fairy god mother, that's common knowledge.
-also seeing Mal’s mother be practically worshiped as the most powerful stirs something within U!Mc, but remembering Mal’s lizard cage extinguishes those feelings.
-No doubt, U!Mc encouraged the fight between Ace and Grim. What they didn’t encourage was Deuce throwing Ace into the chandelier.
“I swear, not even Gil would!... no actually, Gil would do something that idiotic… and that is not helping your place in my books.”
-U!Mc and the trio venture off into the mines, where they promptly discover how horrid the boys are at working together. Poseidon's name! Not even their pirate crew was this bad, and they were pirates! From the isle!
“I swear! Even the worst children from at home work together better than you two idiots.”
-Ace, Deuce and Grim did not start off good with U!Mc…
-Taking control like any good captain would, the mines go by pretty smoothly, and while being annoyed at the fact they weren’t in the fight, U!Mc left somewhat satisfied.
-Maybe this could’ve gone much worse, but Twisted wonderland and NRC isn’t so bad? as much as you’d love to stay, hadn’t you just made it to Auradon…?
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland yuu#deuce spade#twst ace#ace trappola#uma descendants#descendants au#twisted wonderland au
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