#glad my hair is back to its natural color
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Beach Daddy III. I can do it with a broken heart
Rich daddy!Joel x F!reader
Series Masterlist • Masterlist
Wordcount: 12,532
Summary: After a day of emotional turmoil, you find solace in a chance encounter with Joel, who invites you to his secret deck.
Warnings: 18+, Joel and reader get closer, Todd does fuckboy things, reader really goes through it in this one, it's like a lil baby soap opera up in here for everyone.
Notes: Welcome, welcome, dear friends. Sorry this is so long. I never know where to end the chapters 😂 so I just add more. Your comments, asks, and reblogs are always so welcome! I appreciate everyone who's in this with me.
You walk out of Amorebelle with light pink clothing bags weighing down each arm, wearing a new outfit. You can't remember a time when you've gotten this many new clothes at once. You also find it hard to wrap your head around the fact that these clothes cost more than you make in an entire year.
The saleswomen Jane and McKenzie won't let you look at the price tags, but as they're ringing up your picks, you catch a glimpse of the total on the computer screen. You can't help but wonder how you'll ever be able to pay Joel back for this shopping trip.
You also can't help but wonder how often he does this for women.
Jane, who's worked at the shop the longest, had recognized him when you walked in the door. You don't have time to contemplate this because you notice a maid you recognize from the yacht. She makes her way to you and starts relieving you of your bags. You make sure to keep the bag with your dress and shoes for the evening.
"Miss, I was told to take these to your room on the ship while you are at your appointment," the maid tells you.
"What appointment?" you ask her, confused.
"You have an appointment at the salon three stores up.”
"Did Joel set this up for me?" you ask, feeling even more surprised.
"Yes, ma'am," the maid says with a smile.
You're glad that the boutique you've been shopping in has a shower where you're able to rinse off before this appointment. They must be used to sandy beachgoers coming in right before a night out.
You make your way up the street and stop at the salon with floor-to-ceiling glass windows. From the outside, you can see the row of chairs, each in front of its own mirror.
You walk in, and the man at the front desk assures you that you do, in fact, have an appointment, full hair, and makeup, which is all prepaid.
The receptionist walks you back to your stylist, an attractive man whose hair color matches yours. "What do you have in mind today, sweetheart," your stylist asks you.
"I'm honestly not sure. Can I leave it up to you?" you ask.
"That's my favorite request," he says as he runs his fingers through your hair. "Your natural coloring is gorgeous, obviously, I am not going to touch that. So, I'm thinking a quick trim and a blowout."
He has your hair and makeup done within an hour, and you barely recognize yourself in the mirror. You're amazed that your hair is perfectly smooth, with not a single strand of frizz to be found. You gently run your fingers through your hair and can't believe how soft it is.
"What do you think?" the stylist asks you. He hands you a small mirror and turns you in the chair so you can get a better view of the back of your hair.
"Is this really my hair?" you ask, holding up the smaller mirror.
"Of course, sweetheart. You look amazing," he says with a smile.
"I didn't know I could love my hair this much.” You admit.
"So, go enjoy it!" he says with a huge smile.
"I will. I love it. Thank you so much," you say enthusiastically.
You walk out of the salon's front door in your midnight blue silk dress with shining hair, and you feel amazing. For the first time since the breakup, you feel like you can do a whole lot better than Todd.
"All I can say is wow," says Joel. He's been waiting for you outside of the salon.
"I hardly recognize myself," you say with a laugh.
"I wasn't commenting on the dress or your hair. I was impressed by your confidence. It looks good on you darlin," Joel says, looking you up and down unabashedly.
You feel your cheeks get hot. You don't understand how Joel always says exactly what you need to hear.
"But, I do have to admit I was right about that dress; it does look amazing on you," Joel says with a wink.
"I don't know how to thank you–" but Joel cuts you off before you can finish thanking him.
"Please, you don't need to finish what you were about to say. You deserved it. Simple as that."
"Okay," you say with a smile. "Well, then I just want you to know that today has been the best day I have had in a long time." You like that Joel isn't the kind of man who gives gifts because he likes the praise that follows.
"The restaurant is just a few blocks over. I can call for a ride," he says, pulling out his phone.
"Yeah, we could get a ride over," you say and grab his phone. "But, it's such a beautiful night; why don't we walk?" It is a beautiful night, but if you're being honest with yourself, you want to walk to soak up as much time alone with Joel as you can.
Joel smiles and offers you his arm. You notice his new suit jacket goes perfectly with your new dress. You bite your lip to keep yourself from asking if he picked it on purpose, but you secretly hope he had.
"This town is beautiful; I'm surprised that it isn't busier," you say, looking up at the bistro lights strung across the streets in a zig-zag pattern. The light is just barely fading, and the cool breeze catches the slit in your dress, making the end lightly flutter around your ankles as you walk.
"It is a well-kept secret," Joel says.
"For the rich and famous?" you ask.
"Well, kinda, but the locals who live here are what make this place so amazing. The restaurant we’re headed to has some of the best food I've ever eaten. But the chef is just a local man who perfected his art form. Never went to culinary school; just cooked because he loved it."
"How do you know all that about him?" you ask.
"My family has vacationed here for as long as I can remember. When I got tired of listening to my parents argue, I would go exploring the island. I’ve gotten to know a lot of the locals over the years," he explains.
You walk up to a building with a large illuminated sign reading The Coastal Hibiscus. The restaurant has a large deck area with a perfect view of the ocean. As you make your way up the front steps, you drop your hand from Joel's arm, not wanting Sarah to get the wrong idea.
You arrive at the restaurant last, finding the entire party already seated. As you enter, the conversation slows, and Todd's gaze locks onto you, a sense of satisfaction washing over you from the look on his face.
Only two seats remain, so you sit between Alison and Hudson. Joel takes a seat directly across from you, next to his daughter.
"I love that dress on you, by the way." Alison says with a little smile.
"Thanks," you reply as the waiter distributes menus.
"Where did you take off to? I haven't seen you since you went with Sarah's dad to find the dolphins," Alison asks.
"Oh, we never found them, so we just drove around for a long time looking for them," you lie, staring intently at the menu. You don't want to share the details of the intimate day you spent with Joel.
"That's too bad," Alison says, joining the group's conversation about where everyone plans to 'winter' that year.
You continue to look at your menu, overwhelmed by the number of choices. Finally, you look up to see Joel staring at you. You silently mouth 'What should I get?' across the table.
He smiles at you and mouths back 'The lobster.'
When the food arrives, you're grateful for his suggestion. His choice is amazing; the lobster is cooked so well that it feels like it melts in your mouth.
You sit peacefully sipping a glass of wine and listening to the group's conversation, stealing glances at Joel. The waiter brings around dessert menus, and you order a slice of cheesecake, one of your favorites.
A few minutes later, the waiter sets a piece of cheesecake in front of you, and placed delicately in the whipped cream is a stunning cushion cut diamond engagement ring. Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart stops. As you try to make sense of what's happening, you hear Todd whisper angrily to the waiter, "No, not her!"
No one seems to notice the mix-up, and a few seconds later, the engagement ring cheesecake is placed in front of Sarah instead. Her small squeak alerts the rest of the table to what's going on.
"Sarah, will you make me the luckiest man in the world? Will you marry me," Todd says, down on one knee next to Sarah.
"Of course, I will." Sarah immediately answers. She jumps up and hugs Todd, all the while letting out ear-piercing squeals.
You look across the table and see Joel's eyes locked on you. Did he see them place the ring in front of you and your reaction to it?
The restaurant feels like it's closing in around you. You have to get out. You quietly slide your chair away from the table, leaving your ringless cheesecake untouched, and walk out into the open air. You start walking toward the ocean; the water has turned from a vibrant blue to an ominous black. The glassy surface reflects the light of the moon, which sits alone in the sea of darkness.
You continue walking, your feet aching in the heels, but to your relief, you recognize the yacht docked in a nearby marina. The crew must have sailed over to this marina to drop off the rest of the group while Joel and you were in the shops. So you make your way towards it. However, even before you reach the docks, the tears have already started falling down your face. You wipe them away quickly, not wanting to stain your new dress. The sound of footsteps behind you has you hurrying to the yacht. Whoever is following you, you do not want to speak to them–not now.
Not even if it's Joel.
—
"Todd, I'm so glad we finally get to spend some time together. It seems like I barely get to see you anymore. I'm so sorry I've been so busy," you said, smiling at your fantastic boyfriend. You really missed him, but with graduation so close, you had to put all of your efforts into studying.
"I'm glad you finally found some time for me," Todd said in a flat tone. You guessed you deserved that, but the comment still stung.
"Where do you want to go eat? I heard there’s a great new sushi place just a few blocks over," you said, trying to switch the mood to a more positive one.
"Yeah, that works," Todd muttered as he pulled out his phone to send a text.
You started walking over, but you couldn't help but feel like something was off, and you relaxed as Todd's fingers locked with yours.
"So, how’s work going?" you asked. Todd had graduated with his Bachelor's degree the year before and started working for his dad's financial firm after that.
"It's been great. You would not believe some of the people I help with their investments. Every single one of them was a millionaire before they were thirty. That is going to be me; just you wait."
"I know you will be, Todd," you said as the hostess showed you to your table. "If anyone can make it happen, you will."
"It wouldn't hurt to have a rich wife. Then, we'd become millionaires together," Todd said and smiled at you. He had always been so proud of the fact that you were working towards being a lawyer. You were so relieved that he recognized your time studying was for your future together.
The waiter walked over to your table and asked if you were ready to order. Todd ordered multiple plates of sushi, and then the waiter turned to you.
"I'll have an order of the California rolls and a water," you handed the menu back to the waiter and looked up to see Todd with a strange expression on his face.
"California rolls?" Todd asked as the waiter walked away.
"It's the best deal on the menu. I'm saving for my books. I don't know if I’ll be able to qualify for another loan," you said, slightly defensive. You knew Todd hated how cheap you were, but you had to be if you were going to be able to afford to put yourself through school. You knew he didn't understand; his dad paid for his education.
Todd pulled out his phone again and sent another text. You tried not to let it bother you; it was probably something for work.
You spent the rest of dinner talking about the different investments Todd was making on others' behalf and how one of his clients had just purchased their first private island.
"I'm going to run to the restroom before we head out," Todd said and got up, not realizing he had left his phone sitting face up on the table.
As soon as he walked away, his screen lit up with a text message. All you could see from where you sat was the contact name, 'Her.' Your heart sank.
The screen went black, and you took a deep breath. Todd walked back from the restroom, smiling at you.
"You ready to go?" he asked you as he made it to your table.
"Absolutely."
"Why don't we catch a movie?" Todd asked, grabbing your hand again as you walked out of the restaurant.
"Sure. What do you want to go see?”
—
You slam the door of your room and rest your back against it, catching your breath. You had to get away from whoever was following you out of the restaurant. You can't face anyone after witnessing Todd's engagement to someone else. You take a few minutes to catch your breath, and when a soft knock on the door vibrates your back, you ignore it. The person doesn't knock again.
Your dress clings to your sweaty body, and you want nothing more than to take it off. You slip off the midnight blue silk gown and drape it over the chair in front of the vanity. Noticing the pink garment bags already hung neatly in your closet, you secretly wish that you fit in this world, this world of money. But you know deep down that you don't.
You walk past all of the new clothes and throw back on your usual attire of shorts and a T-shirt; you can't get comfortable in the fancy clothes. You make your way over to your bed and throw yourself on the comforter. Burying your face in the pillow and let the tears come. You cry until your eyes burn. You sit up in bed and wonder where everything went wrong with Todd and you. You had truly been in love with him. You had planned a future together, and even though he never spoke directly of marrying you, you always assumed it would happen one day. So when the waiter placed his engagement ring in front of you perched on a pillow of whipped cream, it hurt even more.
Your roommate had been suspicious of Todd cheating on you for months before you read that text. You went on pretending your relationship was stable, even though deep down, you suspected him, too, especially after the incident at the sushi restaurant.
You didn't confront him about the text until weeks later. He denied everything at first, saying it was his father's receptionist. She was a bitter older woman who was not the kind of woman you wanted to cross. He put the receptionist in his phone as 'her' as a joke.
You knew he was lying, but you were okay to keep on pretending. That was until you caught him texting 'her' again, right in front of you. Then, you exploded, and you got into your worst fight. He finally came clean that it was a woman he met at your birthday party.
He swore he wasn't cheating and that she was just a friend. You promised that you would work it out even if he was cheating on you, but he wasn't interested in that. He was no longer interested in you. He broke up with you the very next day.
With the memories replaying in your mind, you jump out of bed and run to the balcony. You breathe in quick gasps of the cold sea air. You just realized that you had invited Sarah to your birthday party. Todd had met her there, and they had been in contact ever since. Sarah told you that she'd been dating Todd for four months, but your birthday party was eight months ago. So Todd had been pursuing Sarah for eight months while he was still pretending to be faithful to you.
'It wouldn't hurt to have a rich wife; then we'd become millionaires together.' Todd's words ring through your memories. He hadn't been talking about you becoming a lawyer and the two of you becoming wealthy together. He had been talking about marrying Sarah, an heiress. This had been his plan all along.
This night of realization has your head hammering, and you need to calm down. So you walk back into your room, slip on your shoes, and walk out your door. You’re going to go out to the bar on the deck and make yourself a drink. The lights on the deck are already out, but you quickly realize you’re not there alone.
"Oh, Todd!" Sarah moans.
"You are so damn sexy!"
Two shadowy figures are pressed together in the pool, waves rippling around them, and you quickly realize you have just interrupted Sarah and Todd's after-engagement celebration. You immediately freeze on the spot.
Their moans grow louder, and you try to retreat before either of them sees you. Unfortunately, you don't notice the lounge chair behind you in the dark and topple over it in your rush to get away. You land flat on your back, and all the air is knocked out of your lungs.
"What the hell? Who's there?" Todd's voice yells behind you.
You pray it’s too dark for them to see or recognize you. Then, you start crawling back towards the door, and as soon as you think you are out of sight, you stand up quickly and run. Once you get through the door, you keep running down the hall, the tears stinging your eyes. You are humiliated, heartbroken, and defeated.
You get to a set of stairs and immediately start climbing as many floors as you can. You have to get as far away from the pool as possible. It’s bad enough knowing Todd is sleeping with Sarah, possibly for eight months, but to see it first hand is too much.
You end up in front of an elevator, and just as you stop to catch your breath, the doors slide open.
"Hey darlin? Are you okay?"
It's Joel. All you want to do is to run into his arms and feel his warmth surround you. But instead, you simply nod and turn to walk away. How could you possibly explain what you just witnessed? Sarah is still his daughter.
"I don't believe you. Somethin’ is wrong. I came to check on you earlier.”
—
Joel hands you a glass of red wine, and you follow him out onto his private deck. The elevator has led up to his room, and Joel, noticing your state, invites you up.
You lean over the railing and swirl the wine in the glass.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Joel asks with a note of concern in his voice.
"Nothing happened; I was just tired," you reply.
"You were so tired that you ran all the way back to the yacht?" Joel asks, clearly not believing you.
You don't say anything and take a small sip of your wine.
"And in the hallway just now? You seemed pretty upset," Joel says.
"I promise, I'm fine, but thank you," you say, trying to muster up a small smile.
Joel does not look convinced, but he lets the topic go. You both stand looking over the ocean for a long time in complete silence. The yacht has left the small island, and so the waves are bubbling lazily behind the propellers.
"When do we make port again?" you ask, finally breaking the silence.
"Tomorrow," Joel replies.
"I’m gonna miss you, Joel," you say quietly.
"What are you talking about, darlin?" Joel says as his eyebrows knit together in concern.
"I'm going to catch a flight back to New York tomorrow.”
Joel stares at you for a long time after saying that you’ll be leaving when you get to port the next day. Or at least you hope you will be. You don't even know where you will be, let alone if there is an airport or a ticket home you can afford.
"I would really hate to see you go, darlin," Joel says with a serious look on his face.
"I think it's for the best," you answer softly.
"The best for you?" he asks. You stay quiet for a long time. Are you deciding what is best for you and/or running from your problems?
"I don't know… " you answer truthfully.
You take another small sip of the wine Joel had poured you and watch the liquid as you swirl it around in your glass.
"You know wine always tastes better in the sauna," Joel says, watching you.
You turn to him, "That does sound nice, but I’m sure the staff who work the spa have already gone to bed."
"Well, good thing the sauna is in my bathroom," he says as the corners of his mouth ease into a smile.
"You have a sauna in your bathroom?" you ask, impressed.
"Of course, so what do you say?"
"I'm not really dressed for a sauna," you gesture down to your shorts and T-shirt.
"I have a robe that you can borrow unless you'd rather go without." Joel winks and starts walking away to grab the robe.
"So what else do you have up here all to yourself?" you ask, liking the distraction from the mess of a night you've been through.
—
You walk through a large sitting room, a bedroom with the biggest bed you've ever seen, and then finally to the bathroom. Joel calling the tub in his bathroom a soaking tub is an understatement; it's more like a small swimming pool sunken in the middle of the floor.
"You can get changed here." Joel leads you into an extravagant walk-in closet, complete with a large vanity table and chaise lounge. He hangs a white cotton robe on a hook next to the door, making it the only garment in the empty closet. You realize Joel's room must include his and her's closets, but Joel has no use for this one.
You undress down to nothing and slip the buttery soft robe over your skin. You could live in this robe. There are definitely some amazing perks to being rich. You walk out of the closet, and Joel is waiting for you in a matching cotton robe.
"See, it's a perfect fit," he says.
"I don't even want to know how much one of these robes costs," you say.
Joel laughs a little at your comment. "The sauna is through this door here," Joel says and pushes the door next to him open, holding it for you to enter first.
You don't know what you've been expecting when Joel had said he had a sauna in his bathroom, but the sauna you walk into is more than you could have ever imagined.
Every inch of the room is covered in light wood. The benches look as though they conform perfectly to your body and are accented with white pillows. The steam is warm and envelops you as soon as you walk into the room. However, the most breathtaking part of the sauna is the floor-to-ceiling window. It makes it feel like the sauna is open to the ocean itself, and the dark water reflecting the dim light of the room is extremely romantic.
"How do you ever leave?" you ask after a few speechless seconds.
Joel laughs again and takes a seat in the center of the bench, staring out into the dark water. You sit next to him and realize you might be too close, so you try to scoot away subtly.
"I don't bite, darlin."
You laugh awkwardly but remain close enough to feel the heat of his body next to yours. You close your eyes and try to let go of the evening. You think about watching the dolphins swimming in the cove while Joel sits next to you on the jet ski.
"You look like you're feeling a little better," Joel whispers.
"I am. This is exactly what I needed." You pause for a few seconds and add, "You keep saving me today."
"You've saved me on this trip too. Can I tell you a secret?" he asks, leaning in closer to you.
"Of course," you answer, and your heart starts beating faster.
"The rest of Sarah's friends drive me insane."
"That's your secret?" you bump his shoulder with yours. "That’s a really weak secret. They drive me insane too."
"If that’s not a secret, then tell me a better one," he says.
"What kind of secret?"
"Tell me why you’re leaving tomorrow?" he asks and looks into your eyes.
You pause, considering if you should tell him the truth, but he is getting Todd as a son-in-law. So you choose a different path.
"I can't afford to stay," you say finally. Taking Joel's silence as confusion, you elaborate, "I'm completely broke. I've put all of my money into school. I work as a bartender and live off of my tips and ramen noodles."
"I'm sorry, but I don't understand why that means you need to leave tomorrow," Joel says somberly.
That’s a fair point; Sarah and her father have paid for absolutely everything. It isn't costing you anything to stay on this once-in-a-lifetime vacation. You need to come up with a reason to leave before he sees through the holes in your story.
"I have to get back to New York, get ready to move to Cambridge, and find a job there before the semester starts. I only have a few weeks of living costs saved up." This is partly true; you do need to do all of those things, but going back early would actually complicate things for you. You can't move into your new apartment in Cambridge until two weeks before the semester starts. So going back early would just mean you'd sit in your old apartment with nothing to do. Plus, if you went back early, you would have a few more weeks of expenses to take care of, and you already quit your job.
"What if I could help you find a new position in Cambridge?" Joel asks.
"What do you mean?" you ask, surprised.
"I have some connections in Cambridge; if I helped you get a few interviews, would you be able to stay longer?"
You can't find any words to respond. You've been really worried about what you would do for work when you got to Cambridge. You don't know anyone there and planned on spending the two weeks before the semester handing in resumes at different restaurants.
"You would do that for me?" you ask.
"Absolutely. I’ll make some calls in the morning. You don't have to stay, but I would enjoy your company if you did. The Bahamas are beautiful this time of year. I don't want you to miss it."
"Okay, I'll stay," you say quietly. "Thank you, Joel."
You can't believe this man's kindness to you. If it's important to Joel that you stay on the trip, then you will figure out how to deal with Todd and Sarah for a little while longer.
"I'm glad to hear it," he says with a smile.
The sky starts to lighten in the early morning hours, so you stand and tell him, "I should head back down to my own room and get some rest."
"Probably a good idea," he says and follows you out of the sauna.
You go back into the massive closet and change back into your clothes, hanging the robe back on the hook. You walk back out into the main room, and Joel is waiting for you, still in his robe.
"Let me walk you down."
"That's really okay. You’ve done so much for me already," you say.
"How long will you stay?"
"I'm not sure. At least another week." You smile at Joel and walk out the door.
***
Joel shuts the door behind you as you walk down the hall. He's relieved that he convinced you to stay for at least another week, but he knows there's something else that's the real cause for you being so upset tonight.
He knows that you're not part of Sarah's usual friend group, but after talking to you tonight, he's confused about how you're even friends at all. You clearly have big goals and work hard to see them happen. Sarah doesn't have any goals other than becoming an 'influencer.'
The thought of you working at every spare moment to put yourself through school makes his stomach twist at how badly he's spoiled Sarah. You deserve so much better than to be just scraping by. He would do anything he could to help you find something better. Hell, he would have offered to pay for your tuition, too, if he thought you would accept it.
Joel pulls out his phone and sends an email to the connection he has at a law firm in Cambridge. He's done some business with them in the past and figures it would be a much better fit for you than making people drinks. With how much business he's given the firm, he knows he can at least get you an interview.
On his home screen, there's a notification of a phone call from his financial advisor, Alester, that he missed while he was in the sauna with you. Alester never calls at this hour, so he knows something is wrong. Joel calls him back immediately, waiting impatiently to hear his voice on the other end.
“Joel, I am so sorry for the early hour," Alester says.
“No need to apologize; what's going on?" He asks urgently.
“I am afraid it is not good news.”
“Just tell me, Alester," he says, doing his best not to get impatient with the man. He's worked for Joel for years, and Joel trusts him with his life. There's an infuriatingly long pause on Alester's end. He sighs before he finally responds. “Blaine is back, sir."
***
The sun is streaming through the glass doors of the balcony as you finally open your eyes. Your head is pounding from a lack of sleep and caffeine. You want to order coffee up to your room, but you need to shower too badly to wait. After running all the way to the yacht and then sitting in the sauna with Joel, you are salty with dried sweat. You probably should have showered last night, but, after reaching your room in the early morning hours, you collapsed on the bed and had fallen asleep in your clothes.
You walk into the bathroom, expecting to look like a mess from all the events of the night, your clothes are extremely wrinkled, but you are surprised to see your hair still looks flawless. "I wish I could afford to get a blowout more often," you say to your reflection, pulling on a few strands as you admire the style.
You put your hair up and step into the hot water of the shower, washing off the previous day. You stand under the steaming water until you are getting a little dizzy from the heat. As you stand there, you can't help but think about Joel. He's been so kind to you, and you can't help but wonder if there's a chance he wants more from your relationship than what one would typically expect between a man and a friend of his daughter's. You shake your head. You can't allow yourself to think that way. Joel lives in a world you know nothing about. Not only is he much older than you, he is also Sarah's dad. Besides, he can have any woman he wants. Why would he want you?
Returning your thoughts to reality, you finish rinsing your hair and turn off the water. You wrap a towel around yourself, and make your way back into the bedroom to cool down.
The screen of your phone is illuminated, so you pick it up and lounge back on the bed. You have several notifications from the group chat between you and your roommates, Aubrey and Lin. You know you need to let them know what's going on.
Aubrey: Hey? Are you still alive? We haven't heard from you in days.
Lin: Maybe she finally found herself a rebound, and that’s why she’s too busy for us. My guess is a sexy pool boy!
You: Sorry, you two. Signal has been spotty. A sexy pool boy, Lin? Is that your guess or your fantasy?
Lin: I think a sexy pool boy should be everyone’s fantasy. ‘Pool boy, refresh my drink, and while you are at it, come rub me down with some tanning lotion.’
Aubrey: Lin, you’re the reason I can’t let Gianni read our group messages!
Lin: Sorry, we aren’t as lucky as you to have an amazing boyfriend who kisses the ground we walk on. Some of us have to use our imaginations.
You: I miss you two so much! I wish you were here with me.
Aubrey: How is everything going? Is the boat as big as we are imagining?
You: Honestly, it is probably bigger than you’re imagining. It’s not so much a boat as it is a super yacht. The bathroom in my room is as big as our entire apartment, and I’m just in a guest room. I have my own private balcony! Oh, and yesterday, I got to see a pod of dolphins!
Lin: Dolphins? How cool! I wish I had a rich friend who took me on expensive vacations.
You: Yeah, it sounds good in theory, but in reality, that rich friend was the one sleeping with my boyfriend for months.
Aubrey: Sarah was the one Todd was cheating on you with?! Why didn’t you lead with that?
You: Oh, that’s not even the worst part. Todd is here on the yacht too. We had already left port when I found out, so I’ve been stuck here with him.
Lin: No way! What the hell did that scumbag have to say for himself when he saw you?
You: Well, he pretended not to know who I am, and I went along with it.
Aubrey: I’m so sorry!
Lin: Why didn’t you call him out?
You: I probably should have, but I didn’t want to make things awkward. Like I said before, I am literally stuck on a boat with these people. Plus, Sarah clearly doesn’t know. I didn’t want to hurt her.
Aubrey: That makes sense. Maybe she will dump him before things get too serious.
You: Oh, one more thing, they got engaged at dinner last night. I had a front row seat for the entire thing. And then their after party.
Aubrey: Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you? I don’t know exactly how I would find you, but you know I would figure it out.
You: Thanks Aubrey, but I’m okay.
Lin: Shit, this is really messed up. What do you mean by ‘you had a front row seat to their after party?’
You: I walked out to the pool deck and caught them having sex in the pool. Then I tripped over a deck chair trying to get out of there.
Lin: Did they catch you?
You: I still don’t know. I really hope not. I don’t know how I would show my face in front of either of them again if they did.
Aubrey: How did Todd even meet Sarah? It’s not like your social circles mix very well.
You: I was thinking about that a lot last night. I am pretty sure that they met at my birthday party.
Lin: So you're telling me when we were all celebrating you, Todd was off hitting on someone else?
You: Pretty much. I’m realizing a lot about who Todd really is. I think his whole plan was to find someone rich. I was thinking about it last night. I remember that towards the end of our relationship, he made lots of comments about how poor I am.
Aubrey: You’re not poor! You’re a college student just trying to make it through school.
Lin: Isn’t Sarah the one who dropped out sophomore year to become an influencer?
You: Yes, that is Sarah. She does actually have a big social media following. And as you both know, she comes from a lot of money.
Lin: Well, that’s pretty easy when you can buy whatever you want and post pictures of yourself on your dad’s billion dollar yacht.
Aubrey: So how long until you get back?
You: I think I’m staying another week. We’re sailing to the Bahamas. I was told that we will make port tonight.
Lin: Well, that sounds amazing. Do you know what you’re going to be doing?
You: I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to ask Joel what has been planned.
Lin: Oh, who is Joel?
You: Joel is just a friend.
Aubrey: I’m glad to hear at least you’re making friends. Then you have a way to escape from Sarah and Todd.
Lin: Me too. Any pool boys?
You: Haha Lin! Very funny. No, I have not made friends with any of the pool boys.
Lin: Well, maybe you should. There is no better way to get over someone than getting under someone.
Aubrey: I hate to say it, but I agree with Lin. Go get some! There have to be some island hotties at one of your stops.
You: I can’t believe you two. I have to go. Someone is knocking at my door. I miss you two so much!
Chuckling at the antics of your two best friends, you set your phone down on the bedside table, smiling to yourself. It's good to know that you have at least two friends you can count on for anything.
You wrap your towel tight around you and check the peephole in the door, relieved to see a maid at your door and not someone else since you're not even dressed yet. You open the door and are surprised to see she's holding a tray and a box in her arms.
"Good morning, Miss," the maid says with a friendly smile on her face.
Confused, you return her smile but look suspiciously at the items she's holding. "Good morning. I think there may have been a mix-up. I didn't call down for anything."
"Don't worry. There was no mix-up," she assures you, taking a step through the open door. "Where would you like me to set this?" she asks.
You open the door wider and let her in to set the tray down on the table. She sets the box gently on the bed and turns to exit, still smiling at you.
"Do you know who sent this?" you ask, tracking the woman with your eyes as she steps away from the bed. However, she does not answer your question. Instead, she continues to proceed to the door with a small knowing smile on her face that makes you wonder what she knows that you don't.
"Have a good day, Miss," she says, giving a small head nod as she flashes you one last grin.
"Thank you," you say and close the door behind her.
You make your way over to the tray first. Lifting the cover, you find a stack of pancakes and a side of bacon and eggs. There's also a small pot of coffee and a fluffy pastry. Your mouth is already watering at the sight of the food, and you inhale deeply, closing your eyes and imagining how good it will all taste, but you replace the cover.
The anticipation for what the box could contain is too great.
The box is tied close with a red ribbon, so you untie it and set it to the side. You remove the lid to the box and are surprised to find a white cotton robe. Immediately, a smile crosses your face, and a small giggle of glee escapes your lips. There's a small handwritten note resting on top.
Darlin,
Please meet me on our secret deck later this evening. Enjoy some time to yourself.
P.S. I wanted you to be comfortable.
Sincerely,
Joel.
You set the card down on the nightstand, right next to the little pink seashell, and you slip on the robe. It's even softer than the night before, if that's possible, and it smells like sandalwood - It smells like Joel.
The clock reads 4:30 pm before you finally get out of bed and dress for the day. You pick out a form-fitting sundress with a delicate blue shell pattern along the hemline. It's one of the pieces that Joel purchased for you at Amorebelle. You aren't used to wearing dresses, but you want to look nice when you see him.
You carefully do your makeup at the vanity table in your bathroom. As you step back and look in the mirror, you are impressed with your own appearance; you look like you belong – almost.
You make your way to Joel's secret deck. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you get closer. You stop as you round the corner to the private location; all you can see is the back of Joel's head as he holds a phone to his ear. The muscles in his shoulders are tense, and you can tell by his low tone that the conversation is not a pleasant one.
"What do you mean he’s threatening to contact members of the family?" You hear Joel say. "He has demands now? What are his demands?"
There is a long pause after what Joel says, and you watch him running a hand through his hair; he seems to be on edge. He listens carefully to whoever he is talking to, and you consider turning around.
"We need to start protecting the family assets. I need you to review my father's will again and ensure it is airtight. He will not get a dime out of me."
You know you should turn around and give Joel privacy, but your curiosity gets the better of you when he starts talking about his family. You lean against the railing to wait, and it squeaks. It squeaks loudly.
Joel turns his head and gives you a small half-smile. He waves his hand, gesturing for you to come to join him. You hesitantly walk over, taking as much time as possible.
"I agree that's a good plan. Lock everything down, and let me know if we get any more calls from him. I'm counting on you, Alester. Don't let me down," Joel says. He hangs up the phone and sets it on the table next to the lounge chair he is sitting in. He sighs, turns to the laptop sitting next to him, and starts typing.
"Hey, I hope I am not interrupting anything," you say and slowly walk up to him.
"Darlin," Joel says as he closes the laptop and turns to face you. "You're not interrupting anything; I was just getting caught up on some work stuff."
"I just noticed you were on the phone, and I didn't want to interrupt a business call or something," you say, trying to explain why you were leaning against the railing and eavesdropping on his phone call.
"Oh, that wasn't business. I just needed to deal with some family issues," he says as he moves a white and blue striped towel and a bottle of tanning lotion off of the lounge chair next to him, gesturing for you to take a seat.
"Are you feeling better?" he asks, and a natural smile finally mirrors in his eyes.
"I am because of you. Thank you so much for sending me breakfast, and that robe was amazing. I honestly can't remember the last time I let myself lay around in bed all day. I really enjoyed it," you say and sit as gracefully as you can manage in the lounge chair next to Joel.
"Good to hear. You deserved a day to relax like that. You don't need to thank me for the robe; after seeing you in it last night, I knew it belonged to you. It looked like it was made for you, so it was only right that I send it down to you," he says.
His words make your heart beat fast again, and your face flushes. You know you are getting too close to your friend's very handsome and single father than is wise. But, when he says things like that, it is hard not to.
You think about telling him the truth about why you were so upset, but you don't want to ruin the fun you're having together by unloading about your ex-boyfriend, who is about to be his son-in-law.
"So, are you excited to walk your daughter down the aisle?" you ask, quickly trying to change the subject, so you don't blurt out your history with Todd.
"Honestly, I'm not sure if I will walk Sarah down the aisle or if she will want her mom to," Joel answers.
His response surprises you, and it must show on your face because Joel continues with his explanation.
"I was only with Marnie, Sarah's mother, for a short time. Marnie got married to someone else shortly after and had Sarah. She believed that Sarah was biologically her husband's and not mine. I didn't even know Sarah existed. She had Sarah take a DNA test when she was ten; she was linked to some of the Miller family members who had also taken the test. Only then did we find out that Sarah was mine."
"I had no idea, Joel. Sarah never said anything about any of this," you say. You feel so sorry for all of them.
"When Marnie's husband died, she told Sarah and me the truth. However, Sarah had grown up with another man as her father, and I never wanted to try and fill his place in her life. So I never really took on that fatherly role with her. Instead, I bought her everything she ever asked me for, and that was the basis of our relationship for a long time."
You sit there staring at the pain in Joel's face for a while. He never takes his eyes off of the ocean but continues to tell you about his past.
"Over the years, we've tried to build our relationship, and I take her on vacation with me every summer, but we still don't have the typical relationship you would expect. At times, Marnie and I have a hard time getting along; we don't see eye to eye on a lot of things. So I stayed back and let Marnie raise Sarah; in a lot of ways, I don't agree with how she raised her," Joel says with a sigh. "That's why you're all here. Sarah and I don't know how to talk to each other because we have nothing in common and barely any memories together. So dinner gets a little awkward without others to fill the silence," Joel says, seeming slightly embarrassed about admitting this.
"I had no idea. Sarah always made it sound like her life was so perfect."
"In all the ways Sarah measures her life, it has been," Joel says, but you aren't quite sure what he means by it.
A maid with a tray of tropical cocktails interrupts your conversation, and she sets the drinks on the table between Joel and you.
"Thank you, Molly, these look wonderful," Joel says.
"Of course, sir," Molly says with a small smile.
"How's your sister doing? I hope she's making a speedy recovery."
"She is, sir. She should be back on her feet again in no time."
"When we get back, you should make some time to go and see her. I'll tell Reggie to add some more PTO for you," Joel says.
"Thank you, sir, I really appreciate that," she says and turnsto leave.
As you observe the interaction between Joel and one of his staff members, you realize you've never seen him treat an employee poorly. However, Sarah snaps at them to get their attention, and you suspect she doesn't even know their names or anything about them. She doesn't even treat them like they're people. This explains why you never felt like you fit in with Sarah and her friends, but you feel comfortable and want to spend all your time with Joel. He doesn't look down on you for being poor, but Sarah does. The irony of it all is that the only one on the ship who knows exactly how poor you are, is Joel.
You stare at Joel, and when he finally meets your gaze, you can't help but smile at him. "Thank you for telling me all of this," you say.
"Thank you for listening," he responds simply.
"It seems like we're making a habit of telling each other all of our secrets," you say with a small giggle.
"I hope that continues."
"Me too," you answer.
"Sarah has another dinner planned on the upper deck. Can I walk you up?" Joel asks you.
"I'm actually feeling a little seasick, I don't think it would be wise for me to eat right now," you answer. You don't feel like spending another evening with Sarah and her new fiance.
"Do you need a doctor? We have a nurse on the yacht, but we'll be making port in just a few hours; I can call and have one meet us at the dock."
"No, I'm okay, really. I just need to go back and lie down."
"Okay, if you're sure. I'll walk you down to your room," Joel said, checking his watch.
"No, no. I'm fine, really."
"Okay," he says reluctantly, "but please use the intercom in your room if you need anything."
"I will, I promise," you say with a small wave and leave to slowly make your way back to your room.
You take your time moving through the ship. You don't want to run into anyone heading to Sarah's dinner, where the topic of conversation is sure to be all about her recent engagement.
You're relieved when you see that most of the hallways are completely empty, so you quickly start toward your room.
"Hey!"
You turn and see Reggie walking up behind you.
"Hey, Reggie. It's been a while," you say with a smile.
"Where are you going?" he asks.
"I'm going back to my room. I wasn't really in the mood to spend dinner with everyone."
"Well, I was on my way to play some cards with some of the crew members. Why don't you come?"
Reggie must have seen the hesitation on your face. "Come on. It's actually fun to hang out with normal people every once in a while."
You laugh. You didn't realise that Reggie thought you were just as wealthy as the rest of Sarah's friends. "Reggie, I am a normal person. Let's go.”
—
Joel makes his way up to dinner alone, silently wishing you would be joining. You're one of the only ones in the group that he actually cares to have a conversation with. However, it might be for the best that you're not coming. Joel found himself always drawn to you, and if he wasn't careful, Sarah would catch on to his interest in her friend. He knows that would not go over well.
Joel's the last one to arrive, and he takes the only seat available next to Sarah's new fiance, Todd.
"I never got the chance to congratulate you on the engagement last night," Joel says as he shakes Todd's hand. "I rushed out because I had an urgent business matter I had to attend to."
Joel hoped that would adequately explain his quick departure the night before. He feels a little guilty that he didnt stay to celebrate and instead took off after you to make sure she was okay.
If he's being honest with himself, his evening spent with you, talking in the sauna, was much more enjoyable. He probably won't be winning any best dad of the year awards, though. He already smoothed things over with Sarah this morning. He showed up to her room with a pair of diamond earrings from Tiffany's. He'd bought them for her birthday, but they were perfect as a stand-in engagement present. Once he brought out the diamond, he didn't think she heard another word that he said. He’s happy to see that she’s wearing them tonight. She truly did look happy, and Joel prayed she would be in her marriage.
"Thank you so much, sir. I hope you approve of our engagement," Todd says.
Joel almost forgot that it was customary for a man to ask for his daughter's hand to get the father's approval of the marriage. "I think you two make a great couple. I'm looking forward to having you as part of the family, Todd," Joel says and then stands up. He taps his wine glass to get the group's attention. Everyone at the table quiets quickly and turns to him.
"I want to congratulate Sarah and Todd on their engagement. May they find happiness in each other and enjoy each other's company for many years to come." Sarah's friends all clap at this statement. Once the quiet returns he starts again. “As my engagement gift to the couple, I would like to throw you two an engagement party at my home here in the Bahamas."
This announcement receives a very excited response from all of Sarah's friends. Sarah's face is beaming at all of the attention she is getting. She smiles and stands up to make an announcement of her own. Joel notices she shakes her head gracefully from side to side, causing the earrings to catch the light. She is an expert at showing off wealth; no wonder she’s doing so well as an influencer.
“Thank you so much, Daddy! I'm so glad you approve, and an engagement party will be the perfect way to announce to the world that I'm about to be married. I am so excited about the upcoming wedding, and I would be honoured if all of you were part of our wedding party." Sarah is met with murmurs of agreement from the men and squeals of excitement from the women present. She sits down with a huge smile, clearly pleased with the group's reactions. “Daddy, can you hire some professional photographers for the engagement party? I need some really good pictures to post."
“Of course," Joel says.
“I wish we could have gotten some great shots of the actual engagement, but Todd didn't think about that part of it," Sarah says, with a hint of annoyance in her voice.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I told you it wasn't exactly planned. We had such an amazing day, and it just felt like the right time," Todd says defensively.
“I'm marrying a true romantic," Sarah says, resting her chin on Todd's shoulder.
“Is there anything else you two need?" Joel asks, trying his best to be supportive.
“I’ll need to pick one more bridesmaid so we have even numbers," Sarah says to Joel.
“Why not ask your old roomate?" Joel asks, confused as to why Sarah isn't planning on asking her most likable and attractive friend.
“Oh, I didn't notice that she wasn't here for my announcement. That sort of works out for the best, though. I’m going to ask someone different. She doesn't really fit into the vision I have for the wedding," Sarah says, sounding very much like a snob.
“And what exactly is your vision for the wedding?" Joel asks, annoyed with his daughter's uncouth response.
“I want everything to be glamorous," Sarah says as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I'll still invite her, but as part of the wedding party, you have to fit the aesthetic."
“That's true; it's not like she would be comfortable with the level of finery at the wedding anyway. It’s very obvious that she’s lower class. I think our guests would be able to sense that. If she can't afford to buy a new dress for her birthday party, it's not likely that she will be able to afford a bridesmaid's dress anyway," Todd says with a smug smile on his face.
Sarah giggles and then turns to talk to the woman next to her about possible venues for the wedding.
“Didn't you just meet her this week?" Joel asks Joel in a low voice.
“Yeah, Sarah told me they went to college together or something," Todd says and takes a bite off his plate.
“Then how would you know she couldn't afford a new dress for her birthday party?" Joel says with quiet suspicion.
Todd's eyes go wide in shock, and he nearly chokes on the food in his mouth. He takes a few moments to recover and then says, “I think Sarah told me that. She went to her birthday, and she had to borrow a dress because she couldn't afford a new one."
Although Joel doesn't doubt that Sarah would gossip about something as petty as not being able to afford a new dress, he finds it odd that Todd would remember something like that. Todd's reaction tells Joel that he is hiding something, and Joel's suspicion is only increased by his quick shift to join Sarah's conversation.
Do you and Todd know each other outside of Sarah?
Joel eats the rest of his meal in silence and makes an excuse about having work to do to get out of the rest of the evening's activities. Instead of heading back to his room, he goes to the captain to tell him about the change of plans.
After Joel's conversation with the captain, he makes his way to his office, which is located a floor below the guest rooms. He thinks about going and checking on you but decides it is best to let you get some sleep.
Joel's office on the yacht is a carbon copy of his office at home. It has a large wooden desk in the center and a large dark leather armchair. The only difference is the view is spectacularly better on the yacht. A large windowed balcony sits behind the desk, so Joel can watch the ocean as he works.
Joel sinks into his leather chair and opens the laptop on his desk. A notification glows on the screen, informing him of the one hundred and twenty-seven emails waiting in his inbox. He pulls out his phone instead and finds his event planner's phone number in his contacts.
“Hello, this is Jessica of Jessica's events."
“Jessica, this is Joel Miller."
“Mr. Miller, it’s great to hear from you again. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
“I'm calling to see if you can organize a party for me. My daughter just got engaged, and I want to throw her an engagement party at my home in the Bahamas."
“Congratulations, Mr. Miller. I would love to help plan such a happy occasion. When can I pencil in your event?"
“Two days from now," he says, knowing the absurdity of the request.
“Did I hear you right? You want me to plan an entire event in two days?"
“If anyone can do it, it's you, Jessica. I’m willing to pay double."
“You have always known how to close a deal. I will have everything ready for you, Mr. Miller. Does your daughter have a theme in mind?”
Joel hates that he has to say it out loud, “She said the theme of her wedding is…glamor."
He hears a small giggle escape from Jessica on the other end of the phone, and she quickly tries to cover it with a cough.
“I know how it sounds," Joel says, embarrassed. “That’s why I am trusting you with this event. I know you will make it tasteful. After the engagement party, I’ll have Sarah talk with you about wedding plans."
“That sounds great, Mr. Miller. I will see you in two days."
“Thank you very much. Goodbye," Joel says and hangs up the phone. This wedding is going to be expensive, and Joel already expects to foot the bill for everything. Extravagant is one thing, but Sarah's taste is beyond even that.
Joel turns his attention back to his laptop screen and the blinking email notification, but he can't get you out of his head. Instead of working, he pulls up his social media pages and searches for your name. He quickly finds your social media pages. You're not very active; most of your pictures are candid shots of you and your friends, two women that looke kind and a lot more down-to-earth than his own daughter.
Joels slightly disappointed that you don't have more pictures for him to scroll through and very little about your life. He wants to know more about you, but it seems like you're very private with your online presence.
He sighs and closes the social media pages, finally returning to the emails he’s dreading sorting through. The newest email in his inbox makes his heart sink. It's from an unknown sender and contains a single sentence.
I know who I really am, and the whole world will, too, if you don't meet my demands.
—
"I am a normal person," you say again, smiling as you walk with Reggie. He raises an eyebrow skeptically at you.
"You don't believe me?" you ask.
"Right, because us normal people get invited to one of the largest private yachts in the world as guests all the time. You don't have to pretend you're not rich to fit in with the crew. They will like you because you are actually nice," Reggie says.
"I am the furthest thing from rich," you laugh.
"Oh, yeah? Prove it," Reggie says with a teasing smile on his face.
You quickly pull out your phone and find a picture of you and your two roommates in your apartment and show it to Reggie.
"What does this prove?" he asks.
"This is a picture of me and my two roommates, Lin and Aubrey; we are sitting in the living room of our one-bedroom apartment. I’m a bartender at a little dive bar, and I currently have two hundred and thirty dollars in my bank account," you say matter of factly.
Reggie's expression changes from one of teasing to one of shock.
"Are you serious?" he asks.
"I mean, I can pull up a bank statement if you really want," you say with a smile.
"Then how did you end up as one of Sarah's friends?"
"Sarah and I were roommates during our first few years at NYU. I think Sarah was placed in the regular dorm rooms to teach her what it was like to be a regular person or something," you say, only half joking. You still haven't figured that one out. Maybe her dad was trying to teach her a life lesson. "Anyway, she hated it and dropped out her sophomore year, but we remained friends and have been in and out of touch over the years. She randomly invited me on this vacation, and I accepted. I didn't expect the yacht to be quite this big, though."
Once you are done with your explanation, you are on the lowest floor of the yacht. You're surprised at how nice the staff area is. Perhaps you'd been expecting it to be like a scene from the lower decks of the movie 'Titanic,' but the lowest level of the ship looks like walking into a lobby of a four-star hotel.
You make your way into what must be the staff dining room. There’s a large group of people surrounding a circular table in the middle of a game of cards. Music is playing in the background, and snacks and beer litter the table. It looks like this is going to be the most comfortable you've been on your trip so far.
"Everyone be nice; we have a newcomer," Reggie says as he pulls out a chair for you.
The mood changes slightly as you sit down, and Reggie sits next to you. You realize you’re still wearing the sundress that Joel bought you, and you must look like you are made of money.
"Hey, I'm Max," says a man with black hair and olive skin.
"Hey, Max," you stick your hand out to shake his and you introduce yourself.
"Nice to meet you. Tell us about yourself."
"There isn't much to tell. I'm a bartender at a little hole-in-the-wall in New York, and I'm trying to put myself through law school," you say nonchalantly.
"What bar?" a girl across the table asks.
"It's called McGregor's."
"No way! I've been there before," Max says. “You have the best nachos!"
You laugh. “Yeah, we do. I would eat an entire plate by myself if no one were watching."
You feel the entire table relax as they all realize that you aren't like the rest of the guests on the yacht.
"What are we playing?" you ask, grabbing a handful of popcorn.
"Strip Poker."
Your throat goes dry at the thought of undressing in front of a room full of strangers. You're afraid to swallow the piece of popcorn you just placed in your mouth. You look around, and everyone is still fully clothed, and your heart rate starts to slow. Max smiles, clearly finding enjoyment in your shock.
"Max, don't scare her off already," Reggie chuckles. “Do you want a beer?”
—
“You wouldn't believe what one of the 'Richies' asked me today,” Brenna says
"Oh, this is going to be good. Brenna always has the best stories," Reggie leans over and whispers to you. After a few beers and a hand or two of actual poker, everyone seems completely at ease with you.
"I was cleaning up a wine glass he'd dropped, and he started hitting on me. Obviously, he has no idea what the real world is like, so he starts asking questions as a way to talk to me."
"Oh no," Max says with a laugh.
"He asked me about living on the bottom deck of the yacht, and I tell him how it takes some getting used to because we are below the water down here. Then he asks me how we use our balconies if they're underwater."
You snort into your glass, glad you hadn't been taking a sip of the beer at the moment, or it would be flowing out of your nose. You set your beer down and ask, "Oh, please tell me you had a good comeback."
She smiles brightly, "I told him we could only use them at low tide. Then he nods and says, 'That makes sense.' I swear they are all clueless."
Brenna starts laughing, and the whole table joins in, but by the time you catch your breath, you have tears in the corners of your eyes. You have not laughed like this the entire time you've been on the ship.
"No offense; I know Sarah is your friend and all, but how do you stand spending time with them?" Max asks.
"Oh, trust me, it’s a challenge. I sneak off by myself whenever I get the chance. No one seems to really notice, especially after Sarah's engagement."
"Oh, man, her fiance is a real tool, isn't he?" Brenna adds.
"He's a social climber too, so they are actually a great fit," Charlotte says. Charlotte is one of the older staff members and hasn't said much throughout the night.
"Well, that makes sense about the fiance, but do you mean Sarah is one too?" Max asks.
They seem to have forgotten that you are there, or at least they forget that you know Sarah personally. However, you keep your mouth shut not because you want to know more, but because you are trying to act as if you don't care too much.
"I started working for Mr. Miller when Sarah and the horrible woman she has as a mother first came around. That same day, the staff was all told that Sarah was Mr. Miller's daughter and to make sure she had everything she needed. Marnie, Sarah's mother, spent the whole day ordering the staff around like she was the owner of the house," said Charlotte.
"From my experience with Marnie, that sounds about right," Max offers.
"Sarah was raised by another man by the name of Winston Radcliff. Some of the staff had been around when Mr. Miller first brought Marnie around. The rumor was that Marnie threw Mr. Miller aside for Radcliff right after she found out she was pregnant because Radcliff could offer her a better position in society."
You can't imagine someone who had the chance to be with Joel choosing another person over him. You can't help but ask, "What did Winston offer that Joel couldn't?"
"Radcliff was the next in line for an earldom. It turned out that the earldom came with a shabby little estate that cost Winston his fortune to keep standing. The marriage quickly turned sour, and when the earl died, Marnie was just as quick to get a paternity test for Sarah."
"In my opinion, Mr. Miller was better off not knowing the truth. Marnie always shows up asking for more money. Sarah has always wanted something, even though Mr. Miller buys her more than she could ever need." Charlotte says.
"Was Joel in love with Marnie?" you ask, not knowing if you really want the answer.
"No, I don't think he ever really loved her. Maybe he could have found a woman right for him if Marnie hadn't been around for the last fourteen years, scaring away every decent woman he has dated. She thinks that if she can keep him single long enough, he will fall back in love with her, but Mr. Miller will never forgive her for what she did."
You nod and turn to see Reggie staring at you with a strange, almost hurt look on his face. He turns away from you before you can ask him what's wrong.
"Well, I think I'm going to head to bed," Brenna says, and the others all stand up to follow.
"You should come play cards with us again," Max says.
"Absolutely! We are here every night, and you are welcome to join us," Brenna adds.
"Thank you. I will." You're happy to know they've welcomed you as one of them.
You say a quick goodnight to everyone and head back up the stairs to the upper decks. Reggie's room is on the lower deck, so you walk by yourself. It must be later than you thought because the lights in the pool area are already turned off.
You feel silly rushing across the dark deck, but it makes you sort of nervous being alone on such a big ship. You're careful to avoid the deck chairs this time, and you're relieved to make it to the doors leading into the guestroom corridor.
"Where the hell have you been?"
You stop dead in your tracks and don't want to turn around. You know that tone of voice from countless arguments. It's Todd, the last person on the entire ship that you want to be alone with. You slowly turn, knowing you're going to have to face him eventually.
He stumbles a step towards you, and you back up to avoid a collision if he falls.
"Are you drunk?"
"I believe I asked a question first," Todd stutters.
"I was playing a game of cards with some of the crew."
Todd laughs and rolls his eyes at you. He again stumbles a little closer, and you're trapped between him and your door. He leans forward and places an arm on either side of you, blocking your escape. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he laughs. He's beyond drunk.
"Just like you. A yacht full of every thing you could want, and you spend your time with the help."
"Get off of me, Todd!"
"You know you still want me," Todd says, lowering his face closer to yours. You push against his chest, trying to get him off.
Todd is suddenly ripped backward, so forcefully you know it wasn't of his own doing.
You see Joel standing behind Todd with a fist full of his shirt. “Get your ass to bed before I throw you off my ship."
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Random Headcanon!
Buggy Paints on his S/O
Support on Ko-Fi
• Buggy seems like a fairly artistic person. Naturally due to his interest in performing arts and him having an infinity of doing his own makeup
• This translating to him being a fairly skilled tradional artist as well- Mainly painting. It was something he did if he had spare time and often sold under a Alias to different art vendors or collectors.
• As his S/O however you were both his greatest model and his muse. Him often sketching you to get ideas
• or using the excuse of nude sketches to get you undressed ;3
• He never spoke about this Hobbie to anyone accept you.
• Sometimes Buggy would do light ink sketches on your arm or fingers if you asked or was bored enough. Nothing large or with color
• Till one hot summer day
• It had been by accident really, a lazy day on the ship due to the sudden heat wave that fell over everyone. Buggy had given the crew a day to themselves since it was too dangerous to sail and possibly give people heat strokes.
• So he was in his cabin. Shirt off, in shorts and his hair in a messy bun ontop of his head as he tried to do some basic gestures. You laying on the bed shirtless and only in your favorite underwear trying to stay cool as you red.
• Buggy glanced back at you. He stares at your naked back for a moment watching you read and mindlessly doze off into your own world.
• You snap from your thoughts momentarily as you feel the bed dip. Glancing back you see Buggy staring at you as he ran his hand over your naked back.
• A shiver goes through you as you can't help but blush at his actions.
• "Bugs?" You ask calmly? Him only humming a response as he seemed to make up his mind.
• "Can I paint on your back? I have those skin safe paints" He asked, however already heading over to were he kept some clean brushes and said paints. You chuckling at this
• "Alright but don't make a mess" You hum as you settle into the bed once more
• Buggy returning with the paints as he saddled himself on you. Sitting very lightly on your ass and clearly making himself comforble.
• "Ah no funny business l" You say with a giggle as you feel him getting very comforble.
• "Of course~ I'm a gentleman afterall" He says. This making you both snort a laugh.
• He soon started, a chill going through your body at the cold paint hitting your skin but soothed by the almost ticklish touch of the brush strokes going down your body.
• You glance back only once to see Buggy in full consideration.
• Your book long forgotten as you laid there enjoying the slow and well thought out feeling of brush strokes on skin.
• It was incredibly relaxing for you.
• You didn't know even but eventually you dozed off and fell into a light sleep while Buggy was painting.
• He would gently shake you awake once he was finished and pepper a kiss on your cheek. "It's Done Doll, Wanna see?"
• You stretch and nod softly still trying to shake the sleep from you.
• He helps you up and uses two mirrors so you could see the finished work. Smiling brightly at the beautiful sunflower and butterfly painting that decorated your skin.
• "Oh Bugs its beautiful!" You gush, Smiling brightly at the sight. Half thinking this would be a fantastic tattoo idea!
• "I'm glad you like it my Muse~" He purred out and kissed your naked shoulder. A blush going across your cheeks as you rolled your eyes
• "Pervert, If I didn't know any better I'd say you used this as a way to get touchy~"
• "What if I say thats true?~" He said with a smirk. Rubbing his hands over your unpainted form.
• "Then I'd say you did a damn good job~" You purred out, Buggy Laughing at this as he scooped you up and tossed you back onto the bed. Earning laughs from both of you as he kissed you ravenously.
• The heat effecting both of you in a different way it seemed-
• The next morning you were pissed at the dried paint all over the bed sheets- Which you forced Buggy to clean.
#x reader#one peice x reader#one piece#one peice live action#buggy one piece#buggy the clown x reader#buggy x reader#buggy x GnReader#one piece buggy#captain buggy#buggy#op buggy
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Inktober Days 22-24
Day 22: "Scratchy"
Saguaro, cholla, prickly pear, pincushion, hedgehog, barrel cactus—how magical are these amazing plants? Iconic, unique, perfectly tuned to their environment. The pleats on a saguaro help it bulge and shrink to accommodate water availability, and the inhospitable trunks provide shelter for desert birds.
Saguaro NP produces some of my favorite educational videos in the system, thanks in part to Feature Fridays with Ranger Freddy Gutiérrez Fernández-Ramírez. Just to add to the scritchy-scratchy theme of this prompt, some of the more unusual videos featuring Ranger Freddy show how to remove jumping cholla barbs from your skin and clothes. Rangers in Saguaro carry hair combs in their first aid kits—and it’s not to fix flat-hat hair!
Day 23: "Celestial"
In recent decades, park managers have come to recognize natural soundscapes and pristine night skies as tangible resources, just like clean air, land, and water. As I was entering the NPS field, a big effort was kicking off to designate certain units as Dark Sky parks, and Big Bend is the king of them all. It has the lowest levels of light pollution of any park in the lower 48 and is famous across the NPS for its breathtaking starscapes.
Protecting natural darkness opens up amazing new opportunities for visitors and rangers. I love assisting with night sky programs, because I remember how I felt when I first traveled away from the greater I-85 corridor and saw my first pristine night sky. It’s a primordial type of magic to see stars unveiled from urban lights and humid haze. And the good news is, unlike other endangered resources, dark skies are salvageable. When towns and cities take steps to reduce their light and air pollution, there’s no slow, agonizing recovery—the stars come right back. They’re just up there, waiting to peek at us again.
Day 24: "Shallow"
I have to confess—I used to look down on Congaree, despite it being the only national park in my home state of South Carolina. I thought of it as muggy, buggy, and a bit boring. But when I was researching wetland habitat for A Field Guide to Mermaids, I was stunned to realize just how special this landscape is. Our country used to be covered in immense floodplain forests along river corridors, but the natural flood cycles that made these lowlands so fertile also meant the land was prized for agriculture. Rivers were straightened, forests were cut down, and the rich soil was planted with crops. Because of this, Congaree protects the largest swathe of bottomland floodplain forest left in the United States.
And it’s a gorgeous park, as well. There’s something evocative and eerie about walking the elevated boardwalks over tea-colored water. Spooky cypress knees reach up through the water like outstretched arms, and several massive national and state champion trees loom up out of the thick forest.
This park may not have the accolades some of the grander, more storied parks have, but I’m proud that it’s my home state’s park and glad that it protects one of the last intact forests of its kind.
------
Another big thank you to the folks who have preordered Thirty-One Days of National Parks: The Artbook! The Big Bend page features a little guide to starhopping from the Big Dipper out to other stars!
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hawuuu don't mind my last one cause someone else did the same prompt with the same character so just change it to 11. "i wasn't blushing! it was hot out." "it is literally snowing outside as we speak are you joking." With Druig still
Thank u and happy new year
A/N - HAWUU! I love this request for him since he would be in denial and all ;)! Thanks for requesting this, dear friend!
Give It
Summary - Druig was afraid to give his heart away for the longest time. Maybe it was time for a change
Warnings - Mostly fluff
“Wow,”
“Never seen snow before, Druig?”
Druig glared at Kingo as he chuckled. The fresh fallen snow over the small London park was enough to make Druig look around in wide-eyed wonder. It was vastly different from the Amazon, the hot sticky humidity against his skin and the blazing sun on the back of his neck. He was used to the tall trees, the plenty of wildlife around him that would screech day and night, and even the rolling mountains and again river outside his little shack. Those 500 years away from the rest of the world were a protective bubble for him.
But London? That was wide-eyed for the Mind Controller.
The small park they were at was right outside of Kingo’s London flat, a lavish penthouse he just bought months before to stay in while he would shoot a movie. After it was decided to go out to find other Eternals in other parts of the universe, the group wanted to make a pit stop in London to say goodbye to Sprite and Kingo, and for Thena, Makkari, and Druig to see London and all its glory. It seemed tempting, though Druig was a creature of comfort. He would rather stay on The Domo, but knowing the rest of the group, a small stop in London was not a bad idea.
In fact, it was your idea.
Knowing that it was going to be snowing, you wanted to see the city covered in snow before you would be stuck on a ship with the other three. You loved the snow yourself, having the ability to control and manipulate water and ice with the tips of your fingers. It was no wonder when the group separated 500 years ago, you went off traveling to the North and explored some of the color elements of Earth. You landed in rural Russia, having your own cabin out in the middle of the woods. The group found you cutting down your own wood, thinking of you more like a lumberjack and in your natural element of the dead winter with freezing winds and almost below temps. But to you, it was home.
Sersi and Sprite had an apartment not too far away, the rest of the family went over to visit and see before they found themselves at a local park. Thena was perched on a park bench, enjoying the small peace not too far away and admiring the fallen snowflakes that were dancing in her golden hair. Druig was watching from the side, still in his black leather jacket and boots that were winking slightly in the snow and a small shiver was licking up his spine. He couldn’t help but shiver, not used to the cold himself, and was never a true fan of it. Inwardly, he was mentally glad they would be on the Domo with controlled temperatures soon.
Laughter was heard over to the left, Druig looking to see a snowball fight broke out with some of the group. Makkari, Sprite and you threw snowballs at each other, almost seeming like childcare yourself. Sprite was literally the only child, laughing her head off as she threw a massive snowball at you, but you dodged it with ease before launching back at her. Druig couldn’t help but watch, and if he was honest, he had his eye on you for some time.
But of course, being away for 500 years he thought those feelings were buried and no longer irrelevant. He had a small crush, that was for certain, and it lasted for quite some time back in the earlier days on Earth. Druig admired how raw you were, the stubbornness you had in the way you fought and the way you defended yourself. Your spitfire soul and the natural beauty you had in your cheeks and curves made him entranced.
Makkari called him a “Lovesick Puppy” a few times, but he would only shove her and let it roll off his shoulders. He ignored the side comments from the others, thought he would stay up at night, and wondered what it would be like to be with you. Would you even think of him the way way? Doubtful, though you were cordial with him all the time and always confided with him with your own insecurities. Not to mention you would stand up to him when the others, mostly Ikaris, would put him down and make him feel less than he was. You saw goodness in him, and Druig never knew that you cried when he walked away all those years ago. He never knew you had feelings for him and found him not only handsome, but kind and filled with a powerful urge to serve and help.
Neither of you admitted to the other.
Now, after saving the world and bringing peace to the very species that they protected for centuries, the feelings were coming back with both yourself and with Druig.
“You can’t use your speed, Makkari!” Druig heard Sprite chastise Makkari, whom was throwing out three snowballs back to back to back. You laughed as you grabbed some fresh snow next to your foot, making snowballs as fast as you could before Makkari slammed one into your forehead. Sprite roared in laughter as Druig smiled, seeing your face etched in snow and a wide grin on your face. He didn’t notice Sersi walking over to stand next to him, her kind smile as she watched Druig look on.
“You should tell her,” Sersi said to Druig, who looked over at her within a second with an asked brow.
“Tell her what?” He asked, Sersi only giving him a knowing look that an older sister would give. Your giggle rang in the air, both Druig and Sersi looking as you tackled Sprite to the ground and tried to get some snow down her backside. Kingo was taking pictures on his phone, though his face was then hit with a snowball thanks to Makkari and he ran off after her to retaliate. Druig’s eyes were on you the whole time, both you and Sprite sitting on the snow ground and laughing so hard tears were seen in your eyes.
He was a coward for so long in not saying how he felt, how he imagined what it would be like to have you in his life. He dreamt of it at times and daydreamed during most of Ajak’s meetings or on his patrols late in the night. Druig faced Deviants before, and facing the celestial Tiamut himself was intimidating. But he knew deep down that the scariest thing that he would ever do in his Immortal life, was telling you he liked you.
More than liked, he loved you.
“ ‘ Nobody has ever measured, even poets, how much a heart can hold’.” Sersi quoted to Druig with a gentle nudge of her shoulder against Druig’. Druig snorted as he looked at her.
“Who said that?” He asked in sarcasm, Sersi rolled her eyes.
“Mark Twain. That’s not the point!” She said as she pointed her finger at him, “You should say something before you regret it. And it’s quite obvious in how you’re looking at her! You were blushing a few minutes ago when she asked you a question!”
“I wasn’t blushing! It was hot out!” He tried to argue.
“Back in my flat it was, It is literally snowing outside as we speak, are you joking?” She asked him, seeing him about to roll his eyes as she laced their arms together, “Druig, for as long as I have known you since we’re been on his planet, I know deep down you have a massive and empathetic heart. We all see it and love it, especially her. You shouldn’t waste it, you should give it. Give it to her, Druig.”
She gestured to you, who was helping Sprite, Kingo, and Makkari make a Snowman together in the middle of the snowy meadow. Druig couldn’t help but smile, knowing deep down that Sersi was in fact right. He loved that about Sersi, her kindness and empathy for everyone around her was infectious and something he wished he had himself. But he also had to wonder if she knew all this time of his feelings for you, or if the others knew. They had to have known, and if they did they never said anything to neither you or Druig.
In the end, it was up to the pair of you to make it happen.
“Come on, Druig! Unless you’re scared!” Kingo was teasing him as he was getting a few snowballs ready. Makkari, yourself, and Sprite were behind him, already ready for a second round of a snowball fight and waiting for Druig to join. Druig look over at you, seeing the flushness in your cheeks and how you too were filled with a sense of joy and happiness in such a simple love for snow. Perhaps he would be brave, make the denial go away, and give his love to you.
He carefully reach down to take some snow in his hands, the bitter cold ice against his pale fingers made him shiver as he made a ball and cocked his hand back.
He was ready. Game on.
The End
January Prompt Session
#druig x reader#druig x female reader#druig x y/n#druig x eternal!reader#druig fanfiction#druig fluff#eternals#fanfiction#writing#barry keoghan#druig#marvel#the eternals#marvel cinematic universe fandom#marvel cinematic universe#marvel mcu#mcu phase 4#mcu fanfiction#mcu
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The Unusual Visit
Adam Warlock x Reader
Plot: You decide to show Adam around Earth, a place he was always curious about. A few shenanigans occur along the way.
Genre: PG-13
A/N: An amazing idea by @littlekidsteve 💜 I hope you don’t mind that I add in some ideas of my own on top of yours and I hope you like it😬! For the rest of y’all, do reblog and comment if you like it. Much appreciated!
Shameless Tags: @tom-whore-dleston
***
“So, remind me what this place is again?”
Adam stands beside you, in awe. The flamingoes in the open enclosure roam around freely, as the sunlight captures their magnificent pink feathers.
“It’s a zoo where you can see different animals.” You explained. “Which reminds me, there are plenty of other animals if we go further down this way,” you steer him in the direction of the lion enclosure.
With the Guardians taking a couple of days off, you decided to take Adam down to Earth. If he had to come for an official Guardian business, it would be great if he was acquainted with some of Earth’s customs.
After racking your brain on what was a good way to slowly introduce him to Earth, you decided on showing him what nature had to offer. You had Blurp to thank as the furry creature had slinked into your bed one night when Adam left his room unlocked.
A mixture of oohs and ahhs could be heard from Adam as the two of you visited various enclosures. He admired the elegance that the lions radiated, though you saw him standing slightly further away from the fence as compared to the other animal enclosures.
You received a multitude of questions when he saw a seal performing various tricks with a zookeeper. “Does the earthling have powers like us?”
“Well, kinda. They have to develop a bond with the animals and gain their trust first.” You were glad to see that he was clearly enjoying this visit. “Come on! I do want to show you that the zoo isn’t the only place where you can see animals.” You grin at Adam’s confusion while leading the way.
~~~
“People can eat and drink here? While playing with… puppies?”
“Dogs.” You corrected him, taking a sip of your blueberry ade. “Not everyone can keep pets at home like how you took in Blurp. But sometimes, they just really need the comfort of a furry friend for a few hours.”
Adam looks down to see a corgi with coffee colored fur circling his ankles. He picks it up with ease, holding it by its body for you to see.
“Why does this one look like bread?”
You giggled. “Almost accurate but not quite. That is a Welsh Corgi.”
“This dog has abnormally short legs,” Adam observes as he puts the dog back down. The corgi decides that his lap was the best sleeping spot and starts to doze off. “Do all dogs look like this?”
“Nope. There are many different breeds. For instance,” you took out a treat to entice a Daschund a few feet away from you. You take a look at the dog’s name tag. “Meet Sausage. He’s a Daschund.”
The dog wiggles out of your grasp, jumping into Adam who thankfully has quick reflexes. Wagging its tail, Sausage starts to lick his face.
“I think it likes you,” you smile at Adam’s futile attempts to fight off the onslaught of affection from the hyperactive Daschund. You decide to help him out, wanting to show him the other lovable dog breeds, big and small.
Preparing to leave for the day, you came out of the toilet to find two of the cafe workers looking anxious. Not thinking much about it, you prepared to meet Adam at the ship.
“Toast is gone! He never goes anywhere!” The girl with strawberry pink hair exclaims. “Boss is going to have a fit when she knows that he’s gone.”
“Calm down,” worker number two comforts her colleague. “I’m sure he couldn’t have gone far. Did you see anyone take him?”
“I was so busy at the cashier. But the last I saw him was with a guy… he was super tall and… out of this world…”
You furrowed your eyebrows at strawberry girl’s description, realization hitting you. You know exactly where the corgi has disappeared to.
~~~
“Adam!”
You entered the ship to have your suspicions confirmed. You find Adam tossing a squeaky ball across the main area where Toast, the Welsh Corgi was scuttling around.
“So this is where you ran of too you sneaky little bugger!” You picked up Toast and gave it a few pats. “Adam, this belongs to the cafe, you can’t take it along with you.”
He sees your slightly exasperated expression. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to find a friend for Blurp.”
You sit beside the God, letting Toast run for a little longer. “I know, Blurp has been kind of lonely. How about this? We can bring Blurp down here every week. I can talk to the staff to let us have Toast for a couple of hours. This way, we can see more places too.”
Adam takes in your suggestion slowly before nodding. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
“Great. How about we return Toast back home?”
You had apologized profusely on Adam’s behalf, but you couldn’t help but to notice the two girls sneaking glances at Adam who was too engrossed in saying his goodbyes to the canine.
As the ship takes off, you see Adam’s forlorn expression.
“Hey, Adam. Hold out your pinkie.”
As he extends his hand with his pinkie out, you wrapped your own pinkie around his.
“This is a pinkie promise. I think it’s sweet that you really love them, and I promise I’ll take you to see them. Not even Rocket’s last minute tasks can stop me. Okay?”
Adam looks at your pinkie intertwined with his, an unreadable expression on his face. He extends his fingers to hold your hand, satisfied with what he had just done.
“There, instead of a pinkie, this is a hand… promise?” The words rolled off his tongue naturally and Adam was pleased with himself. “That way you can’t break it.”
You laughed, holding onto his hand tight as the ship exits the Earth atmosphere.
“A promise it is, Adam. A promise it is.”
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My Everything
Pairing: William Vangeance x Reader
Summary: Still dealing with some issues after the conflict with the elves comes to an end, the reader shows her best friend, William, that they are there for him considering everything he has dealt with, and William shows the reader how much trust he has in them and much deep feelings...
Warnings: N/A (Just fluff!)
Word Count: 0.6k
First, the elves, then a devil.
Events took a sharp turn that I did not see coming, but I didn't let that stop me from fulfilling my duties and protecting my kingdom and its people. The aftermath was quite messy, but I tried to make the best of it.
"Y/N, what a lovely surprise."
I decided to visit my closest friend, William. He was sitting in a tree by the Golden Dawn's quarters, watching the sunset, his bright eyes flashing through his mask.
"Hey friend," I smiled up, climbing the tree.
"I can come down-"
"It's fine," Climbing up and joining him in the branch, my smile spread to his, "That wasn't much of a struggle."
"I'm glad," He nodded, eyes gazing back to the sunset, as did mine, the sight being one of nature's purest forms of beauty.
"The view from here is gorgeous," I whispered in awe, using that to ease into the conversation I came here to have, "Nothing like a nice view to clear your mind."
"Indeed," He whispered back, still staring at the setting sun as I looked at him:
"I know you recently had an important talk with King Julius. Are you doing better after everything?"
"I do feel better," He sighed, seeing the emotion in his eyes as the sky fell into a darker orange hue, "I feel lighter now if that makes sense."
"I understand," I nodded, taking his full attention as I rested my hand on top of his that was resting on the massive tree branch, whispering, "I know there are some others that may think differently than I do, but I want you to know, William, you're still the same William that is my best friend."
"I couldn't ask for a better friend," He sniffled softly but was still smiling, his hand beginning to shake, and it confused me till his hand started reaching for his mask.
We had been friends for a long time, but I'd never seen his face. However, I was happy that he was confident enough to show me, seeing a dark purple tone along the top of his cheeks, all the way up to his white hair.
"You were hiding a birthmark?" That's what I assumed it was. Only curious and not expecting his correction:
"It's from a curse that was placed on my mother's family."
He'd never been so open to me, putting his head down, holding my hand with both of us, a tear dropping into it as he whispered:
"I imagine you can understand why I keep it hidden. I do feel better now that the truth is out, but I still feel-"
My heart hurt seeing him crying; quickly scooting closer to him, his hands squeezing me harder as I took his cheek, lifting his eyes back into mine.
"William, I don't know a soul who's gone through what yours has," I began, fighting through a few tears of my own, but a smile on my face as I reminded, "But as I said, you're still the William that I hold dear to my heart. I know that your heart is pure, my dear friend."
"My face may be cursed, but I do have one blessing," He smiled back, sniffling as he took my other hand, "That blessing is you."
"Cursed?" I giggled softly, meaning honestly, as I kissed his cheek, "I think you're handsome. Curse or not."
"Is it okay if I continue to be honest with you, Y/N?" Getting confirmation from my nod, it felt as if a bright light was shining from within me when his lips found mine, the light shining brighter as I pressed my lips into his more, gasping slightly as our lips parted, his gorgeous purple eyes glimmering into mine, "You are my everything. "
My heart was beating calmly but so hard. Lost in his sparkling eyes, the purple in the sky coloring us and the tree, smiling more as I nuzzled my nose against his, interlocking our hands:
"I feel the same, William."
2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome
#black clover#black clover x reader#black clover imagine#black clover x y/n#black clover fluff#black clover fic#william vangeance#william vangeance x reader#william vangeance x y/n#william vangeance imagine#william vangeance fluff#william vangeance fic#read and enjoy
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I Am Not My Hair
What actually happens if I shave my head bald?
Why cant I see what I look like without hair?
Why do I have to be sick or have cancer or be dying?
Why am I not allowed as a woman to just shave my head?
Why do I need a reason, a justification, an explanation?
Why do I have to justify being hairless?
Why are people acting like Im dying and have cancer just because Im bald?
Nothing happens. Thats the gag.
Youve been taught to fear.
Its just my bald head. Why is that forbidden?
Verboten?
Why cant I ever see what my actual head looks like without all this hair on it?
Why cant I see what my face looks like without it constantly being surrounded by hair?
What if I like being bald?
What if I like not spending $1200+ a year on my hair?
What if I like not styling my hair?
What if I like not doing anything with my hair other than cutting it super short, about an inch or two, every few months?
Why does it threaten people for a woman not to care about her hair?
I dont want to go to a hair salon or barbershop.
I dont want to go back to an afro.
I dont want locs or dreads.
I dont want shaved sides, I already did that last year.
I dont want corn rows or bantu knots, Ive done that too.
I dont want to grow it out.
I dont want a $500 lace front wig.
I dont want a wig professionally installed by a stylist every 2 to 3 months.
I dont want to wash or brush my hair.
I dont want to put any products in my hair.
Why is it a sin for a black woman to not want to grow her hair out?
I dont want my "long beautiful" hair back.
I dont want it halfway down my back again.
I dont want it to my waist again.
I dont want to relax it again -- there are lawsuits against Loreal, black women who used Just For Me and other chemical relaxers to straighten their hair are being diagnosed with cancer, inferitility and fibroids.
The chemicals in a relaxer are strong enough to break down and destroy the natural texture of your curly coiled kinks and force it to be straight -- those same chemicals are also strong enough to literally peel paint off of cars -- why are you putting this directly on your scalp for an hour plus every 2 to 3 months from the time you are a pre-teen or in high school until adulthood, for decades, and thinking that there wont be health issues?
They target products to Black women that kill them.
Remember the little Black girls that sang the R&B pop jingle in the Just For Me commercial?
"Just for me...hair so healthy, silky and free."
Who was that song for?
This was the 90s and there were multiple Black girl groups back then -- TLC, 702, Blaque, Xscape, Jade, Total, MoKenStef, etc. -- they wanted to get us while we were young so we would keep using their products until adulthood.
I got my first perm, I am 4C, at 11. I was so glad my mother stopped burning me with the hot comb that she had tortured me with since I was 5. Anything was better than that as I had a very sensitive scalp or "tenderheaded" as it is called in our community.
I couldnt wait to go to Touch of Magic salon where my older sister already had her long, silky hair. I was tired of being tortured by a hot ass comb that was constantlu burning my fucking scalp and I was tired of being told to "sit still" while my scalp was being fucking burned. I couldnt wait for the Revlon Fabulaxer so the dreaded golden hot comb could be forever banished from my existence.
From 11 to 34, 23 years, I faithfully got a relaxer at the salon every 2 to 3 months. It was about $120+ (relaxer, deep condition, style, split ends, color, etc.). Over the years, that fucking adds up, over $100k I spent on my hair. Even when I went natural at 34, my 4c hair is extremely thick, kinky, nappy, unruly and very difficult to deal with. People have literally broken combs trying to comb through it. Needless to say, I couldnt manage anything myself but a wash and go so I spent thousands at the salon as a 4c natural on Senegalese twists, box braids, Bantu knots, corn rows, twist outs, twist updos and flat twists.
Then I shaved my sides and cut my hair super short and started going to barber shops but I was dyeing it fuschia back then so my hair was still costing me money.
Then last year, I finally just grabbed kitchen scissors out of my kitchen and hacked it myself and decided I was never going to go back to a salon or barbershop.
I was going to cut my hair with kitchen scissors myself every 2 to 3 months. I do like different looks so I have five cheap synthetic shitty wigs that are different colors (blue, blonde, green, black). Depending on the lewk and fit, either I just wear my hair natural and short or I slap a wig on.
But thats it. No maintenance, no upkedp, no hair care routines, no wasting away a Saturday at a salon, no barbershops, no wash and gos, no 15 hour sessions getting braided extensions.
Just literally cutting it with kitchen scissors every 2 to 3 months and slapping on a cheap shitty wig whenever I have a certain fit or lewk and thats it.
Then in August, I decided to shave my head bald. I didnt want even a few inches of hair anymore so I grabbed my husbands razor and shaved it. Didnt go to a barbershop or stylist. Had no idea how to even use the razor and just shaved it all off in under 10 minutes. I loved the bald look especially with thick ass winged liquid eyeliner, bold dramatic eyeshadow and colorful lipstick.
I have a few inches of growth that in a month or two, I will grab the kitchen scissors again and cut my hair down to an inch or two. Ill do that every few months. I love it bald but even shaving my head on a regular basis is more time than I choose to devote to my hair. Cutting it with scissors to an inch or two every 2 to 3 months is my absolute limit.
As a woman, thats not allowed.
Especially as a Black woman.
And I was raised by a Southern Baptist fundamentalist, so forget about it.
You have to obsess over your hair, products, styling, color, length, look, appearance, texture, curl pattern, thickness, volume, care routines, pre poo, deep conditoning, tea tree oil, diffusing, texturizing, blow out, straightening, relaxing, lace front wig installations, weaves, kanekalon, bundles, braids, twists, locs, dreads, corn rows, bantu knots...
You cant just not do your hair!
Only you can. Because thats exactly what I do.
Even as a Black woman and we are brainwashed to be absolutely obsessed with our hair.
Go back and look at the hysteria India Arie caused when she shaved her "beautiful curls".
Just like India Arie, I am not my hair.
#4c hair#natural hair#relaxed hair#black girl magic#black lives matter#bald head#bald girl#shaveyourhead#shavehead#head shave#i am not my hair#just for me#lawsuit#relaxer#loreal#revlon#black hair#beauty standards#feminist#black feminism#patriarchy#paternalism#internalized sexism#blm#melanin magic#anti capitalism#socialism#social justice#afro#feminism
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Fates Divine: Where it All Begins (Yennefer of Vengerberg x Reader)
Summary: What if Yennefer’s destiny wasn’t entwined with Geralt’s? What if another fate awaited her? And where does Princess Cirilla play into all this?
Words: 1183
Warnings: Witcher violence, AU (kinda?), language
A/N: This is the start of a new series I’m working on. The prologue of it, if you will. It will get longer from here but I thought a set up was in order.
If you want to be on this taglist, lemme know.
Series Masterlist
-X-
Gold eyes.
Unnerving, glistening, narrowed eyes were the first things Yennefer saw as she awoke with a start, clutching her aching breast with nimble, scab-ridden fingers. Tucked onto a hillside, shaded by the coloring leaves and away from the harsh view of both man and animal, there was nothing but stillness surrounding her.
“Witch,” you greeted gruffly, gaze flickering to her heaving, barely-covered chest before lifting upward again. “Glad to see you lived. That katakan nearly made you his next meal. Maybe don’t travel Oxenfurt or its roads at night for a while. Could still be plenty of the bastards roaming about.”
Yennefer blinked in surprise, back straightening as she finally took in the full sight of you. Bearing the obvious signs of a Witcher – stark white hair and cat-like eyes that sent most mortals reeling backwards – and the scars that tended to adorn your people, you weren’t quite what she’d imagined after hearing of a Witcher skulking about. The cocky twist of your smirk and the way your golden gaze lightened as she gaped left you almost youthful in appearance.
As though you hadn’t battled a thousand monsters; hadn’t saved a thousand souls (for coin, of course).
“Do you speak, witch?” you teased, biting the apple in your hand playfully. “Or did those fancy mages steal your manners in that big ole tower of yours?”
Yennefer glared, offended at such an implication, and it sent you into a fit of laughter. The apple in your grasp shifted, nearly crushed beneath the weight of your grip, so you simply tossed it to your lazing mare while you tried to calm your mirth.
“That is quite a rude assumption, you white-haired brute,” she scolded, though it held little fire as your amusement bled into her. “I was simply surprised to awake to such an…”
“Freak of nature? Mutant? Monster?”
She winced as your merriment drifted away with the flicker of flames, leaving behind what she’d come to expect from Witcher tales. The broody, cold demeanor and stoic expression – the face of a monster slayer bought entirely by the gold tucked in someone’s breeches.
“Well, you’re welcome. Consider this my one good deed for the year,” you huffed. “You can stay until daybreak. Wouldn’t want to have to save your ass twice in one night. Plus the blood from your oozing wound will only attract more trouble than its worth. Might even bring me the monster I was paid to vanquish.”
Yennefer’s brow furrowed. “I was not going to call you any of those names, Witcher. You are just an unfamiliar face to me. Though I can see why you would assume such hatefulness. I doubt the kind people of Oxenfurt have shown you much hospitality.”
“Humans,” you grunted disdainfully, gaze meeting the witch’s. “They fear the things they cannot possibly match up with.”
“I am Yennefer of Vengerberg. I believe I should thank you for saving my life.” She smiled softly at you, staring deep into your soul as thoughts swirled about your convoluted mind. She could see the obvious attraction, feel it buzzing across her skin the way it skirted about your own. Flashes of your rescue and subsequent healing flickered into view, the way your diligent fingers caressed her mangled flesh as you helped bind the weeping gashes.
You were certainly an interesting creature.
“(Y/N)… of Vizima.”
The hesitation was not missed but she did not dare to voice it.
“Well, it is lucky to have such a dashing savior,” Yennefer smiled shyly, deceptively innocent despite the things she’d been a part of, but you could see through it with ease. This woman was dangerous but you didn’t mind. Not really. “Though, I wonder. Could you help me with another task? With coin, of course.”
You thrived in danger.
“What do you need?” you murmured, the protective clothes you bore becoming uncomfortably sticky from perspiration, nerves alight from whatever this woman was doing to your sensibilities.
It was strange, to be so intimidated by someone so lithe and beautiful. You’d bedded plenty of elven women and humans alike, but this one witch…
“I’m in need of werewolf saliva. For a talisman. But few merchants stock such a rare item and who better to help me find it than a Witcher?”
Batting her eyes, she watched as your resolve crumbled slightly. The promise of coin was temptation enough but knowing this capable but injured witch would be searching for werewolves left you conflicted. If you were dumb enough to say no, then she could easily die.
And the world would be far uglier without her.
“You are planning to search for them whether I agree or not, aren’t you?” you inquired knowingly, chuckling at the mischievous uptick painting Yennefer’s lips.
“Is my coin good enough?” she asked in response, brushing past your question as though it’d never been spoken.
Smirking, you nodded. “All coin is good coin. We will begin our hunt at dawn. I’ve heard whispers of a town being plagued by the hairy beasts. We may start there.” Your gaze dropped to her bandaged chest, brows furrowing thoughtfully. “May need to clean your chest again. All types of nasty illnesses cling to vampires and the like.”
She ran her slender fingers along the parted neck of her dress, garnering your intense attention to the unmarked flesh glistening in the firelight, the tips of her digits grazing the pinking cloth.
“I have a few potions in my bag for such occasions. I am mostly aghast and embarrassed a vampire got the upper hand. You must think me a novice to earn such grave injuries.”
Leaning forward slightly, you caught her eye and shook your head. “I’ve been to every corner of this continent. Met creatures that nearly took my head from its place on my shoulders. I’ve seen novices and masters both killed without a thought. But you, Yennefer of Vengerberg, feel… powerful. As though I dare not underestimate what you could do in a moment’s time. I don’t know you, but I… feel you.”
Yennefer blinked slowly, taken aback by your confession and truthfully, you had no idea why those words befell your lips but there was no taking them back. You would not make yourself a liar.
“Let us sleep,” she whispered breathlessly. “I doubt this will be an easy task and at least one of us should be fully rested and healthy.”
Nodding, you glanced at your bedroll before peering behind Yennefer with a frown.
“Take my roll,” you offered as you stood, though it sounded more of a command. “You do not wish to agitate your wounds more than they already are.”
Lips parting, prepared to argue, Yennefer paused at the stern determination staring back at her. Handing her the blanket sitting atop your haphazardly crafted bed, you gestured at the bedroll before settling against the toppled log near the top of the roll. Arms crossed, your eyes closed and head lolled backwards as you listened.
“Damn Witcher,” she mumbled, crawling into the bedroll and tucking the warm, albeit worn, blanket around her shivering form. “Happy now?”
“Thrilled.”
#yennefer of vengerberg x reader#yennefer of vengerberg imagine#the witcher imagine#reader insert#reader imagine#yennefer vengerberg
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“You’d be a great dad.” + Marc?🥺
You'd be a great dad + Marc Spector
A/n: this made me very very soft
"Thank you!" You say to the barista, stuffing a bill into the tip jar on the counter before you grab your order - two iced coffees and paper bag of assorted pastries.
The foot traffic outside the bakery is heavy, the day of sunshine and warmth calling most London residents outside. You cross the street, scanning the crowds for Marc, who is decidedly not where you left him.
The streets are clogged with people - laughter and the energetic buzz of a nice summer day surrounding you. Condensation drips down your fingers, beads along the plastic cups in your hands, ice melting fast.
But you don't see the dark head of hair you're looking for, the soulful doe eyes you love so well.
A crowd of tourists passes in front of you, a couple of sunbathers glaring up at the shadows you cast across them, and you're thinking about stopping to pull out your phone to call him when you spot him.
Marc is stooped on the ground, hands on his knees, speaking to a child.
You carefully move forward, a smile tugging at your mouth. You can hear the low, soft cadence of voice, the placating way he speaks. The little girl holds a stuffed bear, hair in pigtails as she hiccups and listens to Marc.
"It's okay. We'll find your mom. Can you tell me what she looks like?" Tears still stream down her cheeks but she takes Marc's hand when he offers it to her.
"Hey," you say softly, "Who do we have here?"
Marc glances up at you, a slightly panicked look in his eyes. You smile and crouch down too. "This is Darcy," Marc says. "She can't find her mom."
Darcy nods her head, tiny fingers curling harder around Marc's. "This is my friend," Marc says, giving your name. "We'll help you find your mom."
"It's okay, honey," you coo when tears start to drip down her cheeks again and Marc swipes some of them away gently. Darcy reaches out for your hand too, settling her little one on where you grip the cups and snacks, "It's all right, even I got a bit lost earlier. We'll find your mum in no time."
You and Marc stand, clutching sticky little fingers between yours, Darcy between you, as she tells you in hiccuping little words what her mom looks like.
As you search, Marc asks Darcy questions to distract her, listening carefully to her answers. Does she like school? What's her favorite color? Her favorite animal?
He gives every question its due thoughtfulness and comment, his brow furrowing as he nods along with her, like it was incredibly dear and important that he knows she likes rabbits.
You're moving back in the direction Marc says he saw Darcy approach from when you hear a woman calling out - her voice high with panic. Darcy bolts out of your grasp and into the arms of the approaching woman.
The woman is grateful for your help, for helping her daughter when she was lost and alone. "Just turned my back for a moment and she was gone! So worried. I'm glad she found the pair of you."
When she and Darcy are trailing away, back towards a picnic blanket and snacks, little giggles drifting back toward you, a small, "Thank you, Marc," half-warbled through snot and quickly drying tears, you pass Marc his drink and fold his free hand between yours.
"Sorry it's a bit melted."
Marc shakes his head, tugging you along the path as you offer the bag of pastries to him. "Not your fault, honey."
"You okay?" You ask, watching Marc closely, sunshine and shade casting his face in and out of shadow. You watch the circles beneath his eyes fade and shift with the shift of light, like the pull of the ocean tide against sand.
"Yeah," he answers, sounding a bit unsure.
You bump your shoulder against his, squeezing his fingers until he sighs and his shoulders loosen. "It's just hard to be around kids."
You hesitate for a moment before the words on the tip of your tongue can escape. But, its something you think he should hear. "You were a natural with her though. You were so calm and gentle. I think she felt very safe with you."
Marc doesn't answer, doesn't look over at you, his gaze set firmly ahead, his mouth a grim line.
The shadows try to win, but they're battered back when you lean your chin against his shoulder. "I'm not just saying that either. You know me." You press a kiss to his cheek. "I think you'd be a great dad. If that's something you want someday."
Marc scoffs and doesn't reply, brow furrowing as he tugs you close.
When you settle on a free bench a few minutes later, slowly and lazily eating through the pastries in the sun. "She said her mom told her to look for someone that looks like they'd help her. Like another mom. But she picked me instead," he says suddenly. "Before you got there. She picked me, outta all those people."
You cup your hand around his wrist. "Good choice on her part. You handled her so well. She wasn't afraid, just upset."
"Do you want kids?"
"Maybe someday, I dunno."
He shakes his head. "I don't know if I can do that. I don't know if I can give you that," he says gently. "But if we did, I know you'd...I know they'd be safe with you."
The double meaning of his words is not lost on you, thoughts of his childhood flitting through your mind.
Your throat goes a bit tight, a lump forming at the back of your throat. "With you too, Marc," is all you can manage without tears slipping out.
Marc smiles, lets you touch the edge of his jaw, before he reaches for another pastry.
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Uninvited [ The Finale Part 2 ]
Uninvited. a short-ish series ft. Felix, Chan and Hyunjin (& a sprinkle of Jisung for a little razzle dazzle)
cw: 100% AU, afab reader, blood and gore descriptions, ritual self-bloodletting, supernatural creature themes/tropes, vampire theme/tropes, hybrid theme/tropes.
word count: 6.0k (woo dis a big boi!)
-
Part I - click here
Part II - click here
Part III (explicit content) - click here
Part IV - click here
Part V (explicit content) -click here
Part VI -click here
Part VII - click here
Part VIII - click here
Part IX - click here
Part X - click here
The Finale Pt. 1 - click here
--
SO IT HAS COME TO THIS. THE END OF THIS JOURNEY. I love each and everyone of you that took the time to read my story. This was so much fun! I really enjoy AU writing and supernatural tropes. Please be kind to yourselves ! <3
**taglist <3 (If I missed anyone let me know! it wasnt on purpose i tried to comb all my posts and make sure )
@planetdemon ; @a-person-with-void ; @haleyms ; @wonhottcakes ; @hydroyaksha ; @just-randomm-stuff ; @sooinvu ; @ninjaleeknow ; @thegoddessharmony ; @kittycatkrissa ; @ominous-crow ; @sikebishes ; @strawberriesandknives ; @violetpenguinkris ; @koovvie ;
-----
The Final Chapter (Part Deux)
“Don’t peek!”
“I’m not peeking, I promise.”
“I don’t believe you.”
You press your fingers together firmly resting them against Chan’s eyes as you guide him past the large cardboard boxes that were stacked alongside the walls, a few sit on the floor in the middle of the bedroom. You’re penguin waddling behind him and end up almost tripping.
“Hey! You’re supposed to have hybrid coordination here!” You chide as he laughs.
“I’m a hybrid, I’m not Superman!”
You make a face, even though he can’t see it.
“What’s Superman got to do with your garbage coordination when your eyes are covered?”
Although Chan’s placement is perfect for the surprise, right in front of the bathroom sink and facing the mirror; he can’t help the dismay at your question and he grasps your wrist, slowly removing your hands as he turns to face you.
“You don’t know Superman has x-ray vision?” He almost looks hilariously disgusted with you.
“Syu-puh-man yourself into the mirror and look at all my hard work!” You mock as you spin him by his shoulders to the sink.
“Are you making fun of my acc--” Chan finally faces the mirror, but pauses instantaneously, barely recognizing the beast reflected in front of him. He hadn’t had such dark hair in ages.
“Do you love it?” You say with a wide grin.
“Little witch I--” he runs his fingers through the deep brown, black hair. It was textured in its naturally wavy state after being freshly washed and towel dried.
“It's been so long... I love it.” He shakes his shaggy hair out, his bangs falling perfectly on his forehead. He looks so innocent and unsuspecting like this, especially with his new color. “Do you know how difficult it was to keep that blue? God...” he scoffs, and you giggle as he wraps his arms around you. He’s wearing dark pajama pants, and you’re comfortable in an oversized gray tee and an extra pair of his sweatpants.
“Well, you’re welcome.” You smile as his embrace tightens and he kisses your lips once, twice, before nuzzling his nose into the fine hairs that had escaped the front of your scarf, right by your ear. His breath tickles your jaw and neck.
“God I’m so glad you’re back.” he murmurs into your skin.
You can hear the pain in his voice. The whole lot of you were traumatized from the entire ordeal. Others carried this weight near-seamlessly; Hyunjin being at the top of that list if it were to be listed from best to worst at displaying a false mask of composure and balance.
It had been a little over a week since you and Jisung made it back from purgatory. Other than the gaps in knowledge that Hyunjin had about modern living, he appeared to be coping alright. He remained to himself, or in Felix’s study.
The next best person at hiding their trauma was, you guessed it, Felix.
He isolated himself, so he only truly had to keep his cool for brief moments in the company of others. You two had a few private conversations over the last few days. Sometimes, you’d notice his eyes glass over as he would disassociate. When asked about it, he would firmly insist he was alright and just dealing with the emotional aftermath of the incident, in such a self-aware way, that it would easily ward off any further intrusive questions.
Chan was where the scale began to tilt. Not only was he coping with the situation in his own, unique manner---he was also coping with the fact that he was going to be a father, in the most impossible of ways, and he was feeling all sorts of emotions he hadn’t felt in an extremely long time; and quite a few he had never felt at all prior to now.
It was Chan who pioneered the decision for them to move out of the estate they had been on for hundreds and hundreds of years. Through an old mutual supernatural friend of he and Jisung, they had secured a home on several acres about 4 hours away. Chan agreed to it right away, without even viewing it. He simply wanted to uproot the household and mask their whereabouts as swiftly as he could.
As far as he was concerned, you all could collectively figure out a forever home after the child arrived. The safety of all was his top priority.
He kept his ability to bring the spirits of others up, but he barely honored his daytime deaths, instead opting to stay up and vigilant. The events were trying on his psyche, and sometimes he would break, at night. You’d hear him crying, softly; sometimes you would feel what felt like a kick in your stomach (though according to mortal fetal development cycles, you were far too early to be experiencing such phenomena). It would wake you from your slumber and you’d sluggishly crawl across the bed to where he sat on the edge. You would wrap your arms around him, and hug him tightly, kissing the back of his head as he cried. Oftentimes you would cry too, but you would bite back your sobs, your nose pressed against his silken hair as you’d grip him tighter still.
Not only was Jisung’s ability to conjure severely affected by crossing the lines between the dead and the living an added time—he was experiencing a strange bout of dizzy and fainting spells that Felix was still trying to get to the bottom of. Until he was back to his full health, Chan didn’t feel comfortable allowing him to be alone at his home. Without the level of conjure he held prior, Felix also noted that the protection around the perimeter of his home might have new vulnerabilities.
Jisung refused to leave the guest room unless it was necessary. He felt extremely vulnerable the way he currently was and busied himself sick trying to find a solution alongside Felix.
You hadn’t escaped psychologically Scot free yourself. You suffered from nightmares of an unknown origin that you were trying to keep under wraps from the others. When Chan would ask why some days you would wake up in fear, nearly springing from the sheets, you simply blamed it on PTSD; which was half true.
The other half of the truth was that in the nightmares, you couldn’t see much, it was as if you had been blindfolded. You always heard the same two muffled voices, but it never became clear enough to decipher. What was ingrained deep within you from the visions was the fear and hopelessness that you felt. It was as if everyone had abandoned you, all at once. The darkness was overwhelming and began to make you feel so trapped you’d grow sick to your stomach, oftentimes, the nausea carrying over into your waking life.
Today was no exception. At the break of Dawn, you feel yourself growing groggy. You had been more tired than usual, but of course, this was how things went for pregnant women, right? It didn’t feel misaligned, the symptoms you carried. You fall asleep, feeling the peace of your body being put to rest. Yet what feels like only mere moments later, you blink your eyes open and see darkness.
You feel the rough fabric that’s tied tightly over your eyes. Your heart rate quickens, and you strain to hear the exchange of voices happening right in front of you.
‘...onl...ay’
‘br...a...store....power’
You capture a full word for the first time since your nightmares began.
Power
---
You end up getting a bit more rest than you had expected, which was a welcome recharge to your system. You don’t mention the context of your nightmares, or the full word you managed to catch last night. It would only make Chan more protective, Felix more curious, Hyunjin more stressed, and Jisung more terrified. You could tell everyone, hell even yourself included, were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Chan had told you in the entirety of his life, he’s never felt safe, things have never been normal. Ever.
So, for now, you keep your mouth shut and enjoy the cool, night breeze on your face as you have your passenger side window rolled down. You smell the Northeastern Atlantic Ocean shores, only yards away, the moonlight reflecting off the moving water. As Chan drives further, the tree line gives you brief glimpses of the ocean, but it’s clear, you’re heading far in the opposite direction of it. The forestry thickens and you soon smell damp moss and rotting wood more than the coastal sealine.
Hyunjin is sitting in the backseat, also staring out the window, his facial expression blank. He couldn’t shake off the feeling of being trapped in a world he didn’t understand.
“So, this is it? This is where we’re going to live?” Hyunjin asks, with a hint of sarcasm.
Felix, who’s sitting alongside Hyunjin in the roomy SUV, speaks up. “It’s a roof over our heads. It’s a start.” He replies coolly.
“We’ll make it work, Hyunjin.” Chan says, glancing in the rearview mirror at his fire-haired brother. “We always do.”
“We’re a family. We’ll figure it out, together.” You add softly.
Hyunjin doesn’t reply, but the tension in his shoulders relaxes slightly. You all drive in silence for a while, each lost in your own thoughts.
Finally, Chan breaks the silence as the car slows down on the dirt road. “We’ve been through a lot, but we’re all here now. We’re going to make a new life for ourselves. We don’t really have a choice but to move forward now. “
“Anyway then, here we are.” Chan twists the keys in the ignition and the low rumbling of the engine stops. It’s so silent, you could hear a pin drop at least a mile away. You lean forward, glimpsing the large, Victorian style dwellings. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the thick vines that seem to be growing out of every crevice. The moonlight casts an eerie glow on the overgrown plants, making the house seem almost...alive.
You can feel the discomfort in the car as Chan, who was driving, and Jisung, who’s in the backseat, exchange a look of concern. You can see the dust on the windows and the cobwebs in the corners of the house.
As you step out the car with everyone else, you can’t shake off the feeling of unease. The house seems ancient, and it’s clear that it hasn’t been lived in for a long time; but Chan and Jisung’s friend had assured them that it’s a safe location, and you trust them.
You try to put your feelings aside and focus on the task at hand, but as you walk up the creaky front steps, you can’t help but wonder what kind of secrets this old house holds. Chan wriggles the knob, expecting it to open, but to no avail.
“Hold on.” Jisung emerges, wrapping his slender fingers around the rusted knob. Without turning, you can hear the locks inside of the door turn slowly, as if there was someone on the other side. The way it opens, dust falling from the frame, you begin to second guess this decision to yourself once more.
“There’s no way you sprung me to live like this...” Hyunjin says, walking inside and glancing at the peeling paint on the walls. The rooms are large and empty, with no furniture anywhere. The floors are wooden, and a dark, cocoa color.
“Brother, we’ve lived in worse.” Chan says, his hands in his pockets as he walks forward, looking up and surveying the large chandelier that hovers in the foyer. He looks down at the rug underneath his feet and taps the spot with his toe.
“This is a recipe for a D-List horror movie accident just waiting to happen.” He notes as you join him underneath, slipping your arms around his waist, squeezing the fabric of his fleece jacket between your fingers as you also look up at the chandelier.
“It's almost a full moon.” You say with a grin, kissing him and moving on to explore the rest of the house yourself.
“Yeah?” Chan follows behind you, now that you’ve piqued his interest.
“Yeah, you get really paranoid about things the closer it gets, I’ve noticed....” Your voice trails off as you run your hand over an old hallway display cabinet. Dust clings effortlessly to your fingers, and you brush them against one another to scatter it away.
“You don’t think there’s any way Edith could like...come back, for me...or the baby, or anything, right?” You blurt.
Chan’s brow furrows. “No. We sealed her soul in purgatory, little witch why—does this have to do with your nightmares?” Chan’s gears begin to shift as he puts two and two together.
“No! I--” You look around before lowering your voice, “No, I’m just still afraid. Can you blame me? I barely got out alive, and now I have to keep myself and this...thing alive--”
“This thing? That’s my child that’s...our child.” Chan’s voice softens. He realizes his fuse is shorter around the Full Moon and tries to maintain control. He normally doesn’t let it slip, but he was feeling out of sorts the last few days. “You let me worry about keeping you, and our child, alive.”
You’re a little taken aback at his tone, but you blame it on the oncoming Full Moon. The last one didn’t go as well as it should have, and after everything, his body and emotions were tense. He seems to notice the shift in your demeanor and runs his fingers through his dark hair, now styled back slick and straight. He sighs as he places both hands firmly on your upper arms.
“All of this, its gonna take some getting used to for me, for you, for everyone here. She could be a vampire, a witch, a wolf, or all three. My father was a hybrid, and I came out as a wolf. There’s no rhyme or reason to this it's just...a wildcard, really. It’s a wildcard. I feel like I’ve been given a second chance to get it right this time.”
You can feel the neediness in his voice, you see his eyes, begging, pleading for you to understand him, to validate his reasoning, experience and existence.
Your big, bad wolf.
“Did you say...she?” You tease.
He’s caught off guard as you laugh at his expression.
“Did I? I said she? Did I really?” He asks in disbelief. “I didn’t even notice.”
“Do you want a little girl? Do you think you can handle that?” You say with a cheeky grin.
“No, absolutely not! That’s why I can’t believe I said it!” He touches his lips and looks at his fingers, as if the answer would be splayed on the tips.
“Hey lovebirds, it’d be nice to have some hybrid strength for some of these boxes, yeah?” Jisung slaps the doorframe that he’s looking out from behind as he hoists his box higher against his body to get a better grip. He takes it into the living room and sets it among the other boxes that Felix and Hyunjin had managed to use their unnatural speed to build up.
They didn’t bring everything from the old house, only enough to be able to live comfortably for a little while. The family estate was in their name and would always stand where it was built; but that area couldn’t be considered secure. People over the centuries had been guests, although there had been no disturbances, folks in certain circles close enough knew where they laid themselves to rest.
You were barely pregnant, and certainly felt strong enough to help. Your speed wasn’t up to par like theirs, nor was your coordination, but you had little boosts every now and again. You glance into the trailer attached to Chan’s truck. Figuring out that you could carry a box or two, you grasp one and make your way back up the creaky stairs and into your new home.
Chan’s about to approach you, to chastise you for doing too much, when Felix stops his brother, arm across his chest.
“Let her do something for herself, you can’t control everything, brother.” The white-haired vampire murmurs in an intimate tone. “You’ll drive yourself mad trying and drive her away in the process.”
Chan takes a few steps back, watching as you set the box down in the middle of the room and stand up, feeling more winded than you usually were. You shake it off and head back outside to join the others.
“I can’t escape the notion that something isn’t right, brother.”
Chan crosses his arms across his chest, the sleeves of his deep navy fleece jacket rolled up to his elbows as he stands beside Felix, near the staircase in the foyer. Hyunjin zips back and forth so fast, only the sound of his rustling clothing and dropping boxes can be heard. Jisung is struggling to carry heavier boxes, to get you to not worry about them. You find yourself stumbling along Jisung, trying to capture the other end of the boxes that were too heavy for him alone to conquer.
Felix watches everyone too, his arm resting against the wooden, curled start of the banister.
He wants desperately to disagree; but the brothers knew how their undead lives worked. Now they had a pregnant witch descendant of one of the most powerful clans in the world in their midst.
Felix chews the inside of his lower lip as his brain begins spinning the webs it always spun when it came to strategizing. He answers his brother, barely above a whisper.
“It’s not.”
Chan glances over his shoulder at his younger, pureblooded vampire brother. “Has something been ailing you?”
“The bloodlust.” Felix never takes his eyes off you all milling about, despite Chan boring holes into the side of his skull. “Normally I keep myself well fed, the blood of a witch, the blood of your little witch, it’s tempting but...” Felix’s gaze breaks as he glances down at the floor. His index and thumb rub against one another anxiously.
“The reason Hyunjin and I have stayed out of the way isn’t because of what happened. Well maybe, possibly for him but the bloodlust, it just feels almost out of my--”
“Shit!”
You wince, ripping back your hand from the edge of the box where you had just accidentally sliced the side of your palm with the box cutter. The box cutter clatters to the ground as you grip your wrist, sucking in air through your teeth. You’re pinned suddenly to the ground and look up to see Hyunjin’s eyes, an emblazoned amber, his sclera an ugly shade of blood red as he breathes heavily.
There’s no time to embody enough strength to let out a terrifying scream, as Hyunjin's body is violently propelled across the room and Chan is kneeling beside you, breaking the skin on his wrist and lifting your head enough to feed you his blood. You drink, chest still heaving with adrenaline as you observe Felix, holding Hyunjin up by his fingers tightly enclosed around his throat as the youngest brother thrashes against the wall. The wound on the side of your palm closes itself up as you close your eyes from the sights of it all and continue drinking.
Jisung’s hand lay against Hyunjin’s forehead like a priest performing an exorcism. With nothing but pure, ancient magick, Jisung sends a voltage-like stream of energy through Hyunjin that immobilizes and renders him unconscious; and afterwards, he crumples to the ground, powerless. Felix flits away in the blink of an eye, Hyunjin over his shoulder.
As Chan is overseeing everything and allowing you to heal, he suddenly feels a sharp stab from your mouth.
“Hey, hold on a sec...” He coaxes you from the blood spilling from his wrist, and he looks closer at your teeth, covered in blood and saliva, as you breathe heavily from the consumption of power. The tips of your canines were thinner, with a sharper tip. You had felt overwhelmingly in need of his blood for a while now, and you didn’t know what cravings you were dealing with until you had tasted it like this once more. You were dizzy with how good it felt. It soothed a need inside of you.
“Your teeth, little witch--” Chan says in disbelief and concern as he glances over to Jisung, still unconscious on the floor. In a split-second decision, Chan crawls quickly over to Jisung, placing his head into his lap and re-opening his wrist wound to feed Jisung and hopefully bring him back. You’re busy licking the blood from off your lips and fingers as you quietly watch them. You feel feral, but not in a good way. You feel impulsive, and your emotions are now rising to an uncomfortable place.
Jisung stirs awake groggily, coughing and spitting the excess blood on the floor as he pushes himself up to sit and look around, regaining his breath once more.
“Shit how long was I out for?” he asks Chan as he’s helped back up to his feet.
“A minute, maybe two at most.”
“What the hell was that? That wasn’t normal bloodlust, veins were popping out of his skull, he was being consumed by something else entirely.”
It's just like Jisung getting back to normal immediately after falling unconscious.
“It could be because of the baby, or how long he’s been in purgatory Jisung, I don’t know.” Chan drops his hands to his side in confused exasperation as he kneels next to you, helping you to your feet. Your carnal desires had weakened just a bit now that the aftershocks were settling in. You feel the fuzziness in your brain returning to clarity once more.
Felix is coming back down the stairs, and the four of you gather in the living room. He wipes blood from his fingers with his handkerchief as if it were a kitchen condiment.
“Little Witch, I need you to be honest with me, yeah?” Felix asks, looking directly into your eyes. “Have you experienced anything strange, or off since you’ve been back? Any foreboding feeling, visions, nightmares, hallucinations, cravings?”
You instinctively want to start out by lying, but with Felix’s ability to sense the shifts in your circulatory system; and Chan’s capability to literally smell your fear, you answer honestly.
“I’ve been having trouble controlling my powers and experiencing intense mood swings,” you admit, wringing your hands nervously. “I keep dreaming about being held hostage and hearing voices, last night they said ‘Power’. And to top it off, I’ve been having these cravings, like...I need to consume something that I know I shouldn’t.”
Chan doesn’t add that he witnessed fang like projections from your canines earlier. He decides to leave the others in the dark about it. You’re grateful, unaware of what it could mean for you.
Felix and the others exchange a look of concern, knowing the implications of what you just revealed. They were all well-aware of the dangers that came with pregnancy for a witch, especially when the witch in question was carrying a child of an unknown species.
“We need to keep a close eye on you, Little Witch,” Chan says firmly, his arm coming behind your waist from the side to pull you in. “We need to make sure that you and the baby are safe.”
“I don’t feel safe in an unprotected house, no matter what Minho told us.” Jisung says as he walks around the perimeter of the living room, observing the cracks in the walls, little scratches here and there.
Minho...
That was the first time you’ve ever heard that name before.
“He’s all the way in Russia, I don’t even know why you involved him in our mess.” Felix retorts. He’s now extremely cautious about what family friends they decide to include so closely into their lives. Anyone who joined them were at risk of death in any number of gruesome ways with the danger they attracted.
“You know the Lee family has safeguard housing up and down the East Coast, who else could deliver us enchanted real estate in a week’s time? Besides,”
Chan looks around, “Now nobody in America knows where we live.”
-----
The night before the Full Moon, the night of the Waxing Gibbous moon, progresses, and Jisung is busy using as much of his power reserve as possible to help with protection incantations and conjure to at the very least, make you all undetectable for a solid 3 weeks. With some rest, he could add catch-em's throughout the woods, to signal if anyone was encroaching upon them, and trap them until someone could investigate.
Three weeks would allow the brothers the time to procure a witch of substantial power to drain for the purposes of Felix and Hyunjin helping Jisung to finish the task. You didn’t allow yourself to use unnecessary magick until you could figure out what was going on with your body.
The energy of tomorrow’s Full Moon hangs heavily in the air, which was causing your powers to become increasingly volatile.
It turns out that you weren’t the only one becoming volatile.
The next night, you experienced not one nightmare.
Nothing.
In fact, you sleep quite well, the best you have had in ages. The large, four post bed in the room you and Chan chose is old, with its elaborate gold metal headframe but didn’t have a foul smell and had been covered with plastic. When you further examined the 6, close to 7-bedroom house, you discovered some rooms were furnished, and others left bare.
The loud bangs and clattering were what startled you awoke, followed by muffled voices yelling argumentatively. This house isn't as modernized as the former. The thick, heavy curtains that blocked out sunlight did the same for the moon and stars, unless you physically drew them back. The old place had fancy electronic drapes that rose and fell at the precise moment of sunrise and sunset.
You reach out and turn the bedside lamp on, rubbing your eyes as you stumble over to the curtains and draw them. The moon hangs high in the sky, big and full. You ran to the top of the stairs, clenching your robe closed, as you had little time to get yourself together.
Underneath the central chandelier in the foyer was the large wolf with fur blacker than souls that stir in the dead of night. Scraps of fabric were strewn on the floor, along with quite a fair amount of blood spattered along the walls and carpet. The wolf crouches down, readying for a predatory launch.
“Chan!” You shriek impulsively, covering your mouth when his yellow eyes snap at you, standing atop the staircase. He growls, a snarl from deep inside of his chest, and then he blows air from his nose, almost like a sneeze, backing up two paces with a whine before he’s off, out the broken front door at a speed far faster than an average wolf could manage, and into the night.
You run down the stairs and out onto the porch, but to no avail, he’s already out of your sight. The sounds of coughing and boards falling and creaking are what alert you to Hyunjin as he climbs out of the hole in the front porch, shaking the crumbled dirt and dust from his crimson locks and brushing his plum-colored button up, tucked into his black slacks.
“Well, that was a very rude way to say ‘no’.” he tilts his head to the right ever so slightly, and you wince from the crack that results from the realignment of his spine. “I guess I forgot how strong he was.” he murmurs to himself as he adjusts the cuffs of his sleeve around his wrist.
“Hyunjin, what the fuck happened to you last night? You nearly killed me, and the baby!” Your anger explodes in that moment, but didn’t you have every reason to? If bringing Hyunjin back means you were in more danger than before then maybe you were the only one capable of doing something about it...
You stop in your tracks from approaching him and physically shake your head to get rid of those awful thoughts.
You didn’t mean that.
Why did that even come up intrusively into your mind?
“You’re feeling it too, aren’t you, pretty witch?” Hyunjin hasn’t flinched from his spot, simply placing his hand into his pocket. He looks amused. “I’ve never seen you so fired up like this before. I kind of like it on you--”
You take in your breath and hold it to stop yourself from saying something impulsive.
“Hyunjin, think about what Chan can do to you, and magnify it by 300, I will wear your fucking insides as mardi gras beads if you don’t tell me what the fuck is going on—right—now.”
“You don’t have to sweet talk me that like to get information out of me, besides, I don’t know what the fuck is going on, alright? Christophe seemed to have transformed against his will and now he’s God knows where in this area none of us know anything about.” Hyunjin says crossly with his unique sarcasm.
“And I didn’t attack you on purpose, alright?” his demeanor shifts as he glances away, and you sense a little...worry? Sadness?
“I keep having these fucking...flashbacks of being sealed away. Those first few hundred years...I fought every, single moment I breathed. I – I bled out so many times, and would black out, only to come back impossibly weaker—forced to fight again, and again--”
“Hyunjin, I--”
You wordlessly bring him into a hug and his body stiffens at first, he doesn’t reciprocate.
“Pretty witch I can’t--”
His hands come up to embrace you in return.
“Pretty w-witch--”
His hands are quivering on your back, and you feel wetness seeping into your shoulder that makes you pull back and see the saliva dripping down his jaw, his fangs full and bright, needle sharp, just like Felix’s as he fixes his stare blankly ahead at nothing, his body beginning to slowly rock. He looks like he’s fighting a possession.
“Run.”
You take off down the porch stairs and into the woods.
You glance back as you run, the robe catching on the tree and ripping from your body. You manage not to stumble, but as you’re not paying attention, the remains of a hollow dead tree strike a gash in your shin that makes you cry out, hunched over, trying to keep some distance between you and whatever these wild creatures that you knew as close friends, family even, had become. This wasn’t them. You had to be hallucinating. You were in some nightmare. You stand to your feet again and come face to face with Felix’s hungry eyes.
“Are we playing a game, little witch?” he asks in a lively manner, with a disarming show of his teeth in an innocent grin.
“I win.”
Felix’s lips close, then turning into a smile that reaches his eyes, before he grips you up, his lips pressing against your neck, your pulse racing as you squirm against him, trying to manifest your strengths, your capabilities, your power.
“You smell like pure moonlight.” He says after taking a big whiff of your skin before you feel needlepoint fangs puncture your artery while you feel an icy heat emerge from your fingertips and onto his thigh that you were gripping behind your body. Felix yelps in pain, mutters mumbled profanity, and you hear the breeze through the branches as he disappears into the night.
You’re gripping your neck as its spurting blood all over the ground beneath you and you fall to your knees. You want to be strong; you want to cry out for help, but you blackout from the blood loss and pain from the venom, your body hitting the forest floor.
-------
“--manifesting differently in all of us--”
“-- dead!”
“--sealed her soul, you didn’t--”
You groan as you groggily open your eyes to see yourself back in the four-post bed of your room.
“She’s awake.” Chan exclaims at your bedside. You tilt your head to look at him and then sit up a little more.
He’s all human. All there. He’s cleaned up and well-dressed, which was a stark contrast to the beast you laid eyes on before you passed out.
You passed out.
You touch the side of your neck, but feel the skin totally healed. You move your head back and forth and feel no pain before you spot Felix sitting at the foot of your bed. Jisung is seated at an old desk to the right. Hyunjin is leaning against the window, staring up at the moon that continued its cycle regardless of what happened down here. It's a waning gibbous; at least the energy of the full moon had passed. You feel calmer, and the energy between the boys is subdued.
“Good, you’re awake.” Felix says as he lifts his head to look at you.
“First of all, about last night—I lost control of myself in ways I haven’t felt in hundreds of years. I can only remember what even happened through Jisung bringing my memories back. The last thing I remembered was Jisung and I in the woods, figuring out the lay of the land, and then, I smelled blood...I didn’t just, smell blood, I heard voices in my head. Collective voices like a swarm of bees, all telling me to follow it. The entire time I was fighting impulse and I couldn’t stop myself. I remember feeling a stabbing pain in my leg, and I tasted your blood on my lips and ran as far as I could with what little control I had.”
You listen to him, remembering what you could of the chilling events that occurred last night. The way he smiled at you, so friendly, so unassumingly, he could’ve taken candy from a baby with no consequence. This was only moments before he ripped a hole in your carotid artery.
“I’m sorry.” He murmurs.
“At least I gave her a warning.” Hyunjin shrugs as he continues to watch the trees blow in the wind.
“You call telling her to run headfirst into her death a warning?!” Chan snaps as he stands up, the chair he’s in scraping back against the floor with the haste of his aggressive movement.
You remember the conversation you had with Hyunjin last night before he told you to run, and you tug at Chan’s hand, shaking your head, signaling for him to stand down. He sighs as he reaches between his legs to pull the chair back and sits back down.
“How are you feeling? Is anything different?” Chan asks.
He wants to know about the baby.
“I’ve never been pregnant before but, I feel okay—a little tired but, nothing too crazy.” You grunt as you push yourself all the way up. “I guess this is what you meant by us never being safe, huh?”
Chan exchanges a glance with Felix, who stands to his feet.
“I don’t think there was a way to prevent this from happening, I don’t even know how it all works yet....”
You cling to each word as Felix speaks.
“I have a theory that Edith had a counterspell on her earthly remains. If they were ever to be destroyed, a curse is set loose to reign hellfire on those responsible, bringing out the worst in all of us. I don’t feel it at all today, neither do any of the rest of us. It must somehow work with the Full Moon.”
“Meaning its wolf-based?”
“There are other important things that happen during the Full Moon that don’t involve us.”
“I knew it! I knew she wasn’t gone!” You shove the blankets off of you as you stand up in anger, interrupting their discussion. You look at Chan. “You told me she was gone, you told me there was no way she could come back--”
“She is gone, and she won’t come back.” Hyunjin’s voice cuts between the room’s tension.
“If we can break the curse.”
End.
#bangchan#bang chan#chris bang#skz#stray kids#skz au#skz vampire au#stray kids vampire au#bang chan x reader#felix x reader#hyunjin x reader#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids fanfic#wolf chan#wolfchan#bangchan wolf au#bangchan hybrid au#felix vampire au#jisung#han jisung au#jisung fic#felix lee#hwang hyunjin
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emerges from the ether for 5 seconds before vanishing again--i don't post here often i go through phases, the moon has phases i have phases whatever but i've been playing a lot of b@lders g@ate and while i don't think i'll ever feel comfortable writing canon character content (maybe h@lsin??? g@le??? who knows) this one NPC interaction had me by the throat.
feat: tw: canon courtesan/sex worker NPC, kink!reader, second person narration since the game is like that, hunky sneezy drow man, honestly a lot of build up for little payoff im sorry idk what happened. i also don't know the word count im useless
(dialog is in-game dialogue up until the lil time skip to his room, then it's all me baybbyeee)
The drow is one of the most handsome you’ve ever seen. Not that you expected him to be ugly, of course. The fabled drow twins of Sharress’ Caress are known far and wide for their talents as well as their beauty. Its just, seeing them in person is quite different from sustaining on mere rumor alone. Sorn Orlith, as he introduces himself, is rather muscular for a drow. He stands nearly a good head taller than you with a broad, brazenly defined chest. His outfit is nothing more than a metal cage topped over his heavy shoulders and flared out down his sternum like witch’s fingers, pointing towards an abdomen taut with muscle.
His long skirt rides around his hips but you can still see the shadow of indents against bluish-gray skin there, as if they are inviting you to take a closer look. They likely are. Nothing about his appearance is not meticulously crafted to draw you in. From the slight sheen on his lips that are plush and naturally the color of ripe blueberries, to the way his wintry hair is falls effortlessly back from his face in perfect waves. He is a vision, and yet his eyes are not cold and imperious like you might expect. They’re warm. Inviting. Somehow kind, despite what kind of debauchery goes on in a place like this.
You ask him how he ended up here in the first place. Apparently, the Underdark isn’t kind to male courtesans. Also, he was bored.
“The entirety of drow culture is obsessed with bondage beyond reason. While such activities have their charms, I yearned to reach greater depths.” He gives a dazzling smile. “And there is no society on this planet more laterally, imaginatively and confusingly depraved as that of Baldur’s Gate. Although of late, I do feel I’ve seen everything. Perhaps you’ll show me something new?”
Your throat goes dry.
“I’m…glad you’re happy here,” you manage out.
Sorn laughs, but not unkindly “I’d have to restrain myself far more than any play-bindings do if I worked in another field. This is a place where I can be myself boundlessly.”
His arms widen, emphasizing the violet taut flesh of muscle in his shoulders and biceps. You do your best not to stare.
“There are so many who come to me speaking of a fixation that no one else has ever been able to share with them…” he leans close, “And never will again.
He smells of bergamot and brandy. It’s intoxicating. “A once in a lifetime moment of passion. Every day. What could be better? Don’t you want to try it?”
You do. And he can tell. His grin widens, almost wolfish.
“Trust me, you don’t want to miss my signature Menzoberranzan Love Trick.”
—
With the door to Sorn’s private room shut, you feel a sense of calm overwhelm you. The room is beautiful—long enough to be someone’s home, crystals and plants glowing in every corner, a bed surrounded by flowers, shadows in all the right places. It looks like it was plucked free from the most beautiful parts of the Underdark and brought here to Wyrms Crossing. It feels comforting. Safe.
“Now, are you going to tell me about this little secret of yours? Or would you prefer to keep me in the dark?”
Sorn’s voice startles you and he slips a hand around your waist, nosing at your neck as he comes from behind you. He releases you at the reaction, but doesn’t make a show of it. He’s masterful at what he does. Reading his partner, gauging their comfort level, adjusting and maneuvering as necessary. Your blushing cheeks must give you away because he gives you an encouraging smile instead and reaches for your wrists.
“Come, let us sit first. I find it’s easier to talk like that.”
He leads you to the foot of the bed. The sheets are luxurious, obsidian satin, and the mattress sinks with your weight. He sits close, angling his body towards you, but not so close as to crowd you. Your knees touch. You can see his breath flexing the hardened muscles of his torso and chest as he lingers there, expectant but not impatient. His hands cover yours in your own lap.
“It’s perfectly all right to be nervous,” Sorn continues, “But I assure you, your secret is safe with me. And not only that, it is *treasured*. I meant what I said earlier. There is very little that surprises me these days. Should you present me with something unexpected, I will be noting more than delighted.”
You avoid his eyes, despite how gentle they are. You’ve never said this in front of anyone. But he’s right. Odds are, there are multiple someones in Baldurs Gate who have stranger interests than you. Sorn has likely indulged them all and without complaint. As he said downstairs, he rather enjoys this aspect of his work. Still, your tongue is in knots as you work up the nerve to say it. Your eyes travel up from his chin to his perfectly shaped mouth, the cupids bow of his lips and then finally the long, aquiline shape of his nose. It’s a fine nose. Prominent on his face and somehow as elegant as the rest of him, it captivates your attention for a moment.
When you realize you’ve been staring for a moment too long, the confession rushes out of you in a breath, “Sneezing.”
Your face feels like it might explode from the heat. Sorn blinks. You expect him to laugh, or tell you to leave the room, or some other horrible outcome but instead he merely tilts his head. His hands give yours an assuring squeeze.
“And what about it do you like, my love?”
You lean over with a groan. You truly cannot believe you’re having this conversation—but his warm chuckle sends something fluttering in your chest and you gather the courage to straighten back up again and look him in the eye.
“I’m…not quite sure, I just know I enjoy it,” you say carefully, “And when my partners do it.”
“Mmm,” he says, contemplating, “So you’d like it if I sneezed for you then?”
Your lips purse, holding the answer hostage in your throat. You nod helplessly instead. He laughs again and releases one of his hands to brush a knuckle along your cheek.
“Look how red you are, it’s positively darling. Was that all, little bird? That was what you were so afraid to tell me?”
You nod again, nearly in tears. It’s off your chest now and it feels incredible, but it’s also freeing in a way that makes you feel raw and exposed. He’s being so kind about it that you’re not quite sure how to react. Emotions clash together, warring for dominance inside the confines of your skull.
Sorn seems to understand immediately. His hand skirts below your jaw and tips your chin up as he leans forward and captures your lips with his own. It’s a simple, nearly chaste kiss. So featherlight and innocent that it feels like the sun peeking through the clouds. “Shh, shhh,” he soothes as he pulls away, “I think it’s wonderful. I will say it’s the first time I’ve encountered it, but I think it’s quite endearing.” He pulls away a little further, leaving you breathless. His white smile gleams. “And what an exciting challenge besides!”
He releases you fully and stands from the bed, his hands on his hips. He looks about the room, brow furrowed in concentration. You’re still a little dazed from the kiss, wondering how he manages to taste like brandy and sweetwine and smell as good as he does while also trying to get your brain to stop swimming. You blink a few times to get your bearings as Sorn stalks to one of his shelves.
“Now, the only trouble is—“ he starts as he rifles through a few things, “There isn’t much that makes me sneeze, I’m afraid.”
Your stomach wilts a bit. Perhaps it was too much to hope that this strapping drow would have a terrible allergy to lavender. Though, to be fair, he hardly looks like the type to be beset by anything so pedestrian. Sorn is so maddeningly put together. From his perfect hair, meticulous ensemble and finely crafted expressions, he is clearly a man that keeps up appearances. Decorum is important to him. Should he ever be laid low by an allergy, you imagine he would fight it with the all the dignity and stoicism he so proudly displayed.
Still—you didn’t work up all this nerve just to get here and *not* have anticipated something like this happening. Shyly, you let your fingers linger over the vial in your pocket.
“I…may have something that will help,” you say.
Sorn turns from the shelf with what looks like a raven feather in his hand, his eyes bright. He looks positively delighted at the news.
“Oh I love when my clients come prepared,” he says, “You are a dream.”
“We could try that first, though,” you say, gesturing to the feather. There’s definitely something to that idea and it’s already stirring a feeling in your belly that has you shifting on the bed and your heart rising. There’s no possible way Sorn can know this, but somehow you sense he does, because his eyes sharpen their focus on you and his grin goes syrupy.
“Lovely,” he comments and returns to your side. As he sinks back into the mattress, he gestures a hand. “Is here all right? Or would you like to do it somewhere else?”
“Here is fine,” you choke out. The idea that this is happening, really happening, is making your brain turn to lightning. You can hardly wait.
He holds out the feather to you, “I assume you’d like to do the honors?”
You nod. The feather has little weight to it, and it’s gorgeous up close. The black shimmers with hues of purples and blues in the low light, glimmering in the reflection of your eyes. You run your eyes along the length of it and then find yourself starting at Sorn again, heart in your throat.
“Is it… all right if I touch you?” you ask. You lean forward, hand with the feather outstretched, but think you may need to position yourself a little closer and brace yourself on his shoulder to get a good angle.
“Darling,” he laughs. He suddenly seizes your wrist and brings you closer, lowering his voice near your ear. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
You gulp as he slides back, demure and innocent as if he hadn’t just made goosebumps appear along your arms and thighs with his words alone. A nervous smile paints your lips and you do finally take his shoulder in your hand. You’re kneeling almost into his lap at this point and to support you, he draws an arm around your back. It’s so intimate you’re almost dizzy with the closeness alone, and you haven’t even gotten to—
The feather brushes at the corner of his mouth and his mouth twitches in a smile. Even just that response alone makes your heart race. From there, you slowly move it up to the indent above his mouth, and then his septum. He wrinkles his nose, skin avoiding the stimulation on instinct before he wrests his control back. He smiles but says nothing, allowing you to continue.
You draw the tip of the feather around one nostril. It quivers in response, but otherwise, Sorn’s eyes remained focused on you. You test a bit farther, drawing slow, soft circles. There isn’t anything for a few seconds, and then he starts to blink, irritated tears prickling in his eyes. He sniffs a few times and then has to cough, politely turning his head away on instinct as he does so. “Apologies,” he says and then grins, “What a strange sensation.”
“Are you all right?” you ask.
“Very much so,” he nods, “Please, continue.”
You do, but to mixed results. You’re certainly irritating his nasal passages, but sadly not enough to make him sneeze. After a few minutes of attempting, all you’ve really done is making him cough and cry irritated tears. Disappointed, you’re about to give up when he takes your wrist again, holding the feather inside his nose.
“W-wait,” he says, “I had it for but a moment.”
Your heart stutters. Carefully, you twist the feather as you had been a moment earlier. His eyelashes, pale as new fallen snow, sweep his cheeks and a breath catches on the roof of his mouth. The hand that was around your wrist falls slack, fingers drifting down towards your elbow.
“Yes, I feel it,” he whispers.
His grip around your back tightens and he draws in another breath. His eyebrows crumple and hoist upwards and his nose practically twitches.
“Hh—hiiyh—“
As his expression snaps, you pull the feather away just in time. His head wrenches away as the sneeze whisks through him.
“Hi-ISSHh!”
It’s a spartan, nearly soft sound. Wet, given the amount of torture his nose has been put through for the last few unproductive minutes, but otherwise without frills or embellishments. It’s a very honest sneeze you think, but perhaps one he was not entirely prepared for. By his clenched teeth you think he might have held back at the last moment out of some sense of propriety. The way he lightly touches the backs of his knuckles to the underside of his nose in the aftermath and gives a delicate sniff further enforces your theory.
Still, it was a sight.
“Blessings,” you say, enraptured.
Sorn recovers quickly and smiles at you.
“Did you—snf—enjoy that? I am sorry it took so long.”
Your red cheeks are enough of a glowing recommendation, but you nod anyway. Feeling a little braver, and a little desperate for him now that you’ve seen him lose control the once, your hand slips down against his abdomen. The warm skin there flexes against your palm as he breathes in. He hums a soft noise of approval and clasps his hand over yours before leaning in to kiss you. There’s just the briefest moisture in the kiss, only you would ever notice it, and it sets your brain on fire.
“Perhaps we should try your method instead,” he suggests when he pulls away for a breath, kissing a line across your jaw and to your throat next, “It might be more…productive.”
You feel dizzy. His hand skirts along your thigh and meets the joint of your hip, squeezing with enough pressure to make you moan.
“If you’re sure,” you say, “It can be…strong.” It’s only fair to warn him, after all. Everyone reacts differently, but you’ve never not seen it work on someone.
“All the better,” he hums against the hollow of your throat, nipping softly at the skin, “I simply won’t have you leaving here disappointed.”
You shift upwards to get access to your pocket. Sorn discards the sodden feather and watches with curious, eager eyes. When you reveal the tiny glass vial, he smirks.
“I see,” is all he says before nodding his head toward the collection of pillows at the head of the bed, “Let’s get more comfortable first, shall we?”
Moments later, you’re lying side by side, both propped up by pillows and surrounded by the soft glowing plants and crystals that make a canopy of the bed. Sorn holds himself up on an elbow and examines the vial that looks comically small in his much larger fingers. You lay your cheek against one of the pillows and stare up at him, still feeling your heartbeat pound in your ears. You’d thought this would have gotten easier after seeing it happen once, but the idea of seeing it happen again is almost worst. Now that you know the sound, know how his lip curls a little, how his eyes flutter—all you want to do is see it more, see him unravel.
“So, just a pinch of this?” Sorn asks. He seems more curious than anything. Like he doesn’t quite totally believe that whatever is in there is actually going to be able to make him sneeze.
“Mhmhm,” you say.
He grins and sets to work. A hefty pinch between his thumb and forefinger is gathered and then quickly—and in a rather sophisticated manner—snorted up one nostril. It doesn’t seem to cause him any harm like you worried it might, and he merely clears his throat once it’s over and brushes his hands off.
“Oh, it’s lovely,” he comments, “Almost medicinal.”
You can’t answer him because you can’t breathe. You’re waiting for something. Anything. A flicker of his expression, a quiver of his nose, something to indicate that the powder is set to work. But nothing happens. Sorn merely looks back at you questioningly.
“When does it start to take effect?” he asks.
“Usually right away.”
He frowns, “Oh. Perhaps I should take more?”
You saw the amount he took. It was already sizable. Any more and you’d be concerned for him. You quickly shake your head, “No, I wouldn’t. Maybe it’s just…slow to start.”
Sorn huffs, his disappointment mirroring your own. He sets the vial aside and turns back to you, pulling you flush against his body. That’s still nice, sneezing or no. Every hard angle of him presses against you and the heat of his skin makes you shudder. He kisses you deeply and you can still smell the slightly earthy scent of the powder on him as you return it.
“I’m terribly sorry,” he murmurs close to your mouth, “I’ve done nothing but disappoint you tonight.”
You blink up at him, “That’s not true!”
He sighs and tucks a bit of your hair behind your ear. “It is, but I promise you, I will make it up to you. We still have plenty of time, and there are other things we can do, besides.”
Sorn dips an arm under you and pulls you flat against the bed, hovering over you. He grins down at you and starts to remove your top.
“Is this alright?” he asks softly.
You nod, nearly choking on your want for him. Everywhere he uncovers bare skin, he lavishes in kisses until you’re bare from the waist up and the two of you are flesh against flesh. His skin sears yours with warmth. He trails fingers down your sternum and then down to your bellybutton, then lower.
“You are a delightful little thing,” he says. His voice is velvet, and his warm breath paints down your ribs as he follows the path of his hand.
You feel the gasp as much as you hear it. It’s a sudden, reckless thing—so quick that neither of you are prepared for it. Sorn’s expression flinches for just a moment and he barely has time to turn his head to the side before a sneeze completely overtakes him—misting your side in the process. “hh-EDSHHH’iuh!”
You’re stunned. Sorn looks like he might be too, if not for the telltale signs of another impending sneeze close behind the first. He shifts and places a hand on your hip as he sits up a little. You watch as his upper lip curls over bright teeth and his nostrils flare once before he wrenches away from you successfully this time. “hhHH’RRSCCH!” This one is stronger than the last, more voice to it. It shakes him and you by extension on the mattress.
“Bless you,” you say, but he shakes his head. His hand squeezes your hip gently as if to say ‘not yet’. “Hih-ih!”
His fist goes to his mouth before you can stop it, and he squelches the last sneeze into submission. His eyes cinch shut and he bends at the waist, shoulders trembling as the colossal sound is contained to nothing more than a whisper. “hHh-nGXST!”
He opens his eyes, though somewhat warily. As if he’s not sure the tickle is quite gone yet. He gives a cagey sniffle and blots his knuckle under his nostrils, “Goodness.” Then, he turns to you and finds your gaze positively enraptured. He smiles.
“I suppose it does work ah-after all!” He rubs at the tip of his nose for a moment and then flutters his eyes, “I do hope you’re ready for more because it seh—seems…”
Your hand goes to his chest. You feel the swell of his breath deepen, the warm feeling of his skin moving under your fingers. Sorn seems to get the idea because his palm reaches up to cover yours. His fingers wrap around your palm as his breath continues to snag. You catch his eyes just for a moment before they slide back.
“hHH’RRSCh’euh!” He trembles under your touch with the force of it. He lifts his head just barely, eyebrows canted desperately, and then pitches downwards again, spraying your arm with abandon. “hh’AEEShhh’ah!”
“Such a tickle,” he says breathily as he recovers. He gives a wet sniffle and smiles at you, but it’s hazy, the look in his eyes already distracted by the mounting itch. But he doesn’t seem bothered by it. If anything, he’s enjoying the newness of the sensation. The break from monotony.
His nostrils flare and he releases his hand to rub his knuckle against his septum once more.
You feel a little bold for asking, “Are you all right?”
He nods, smiling. He tries to hold your eyes but the tickle steals his concentration once more.
“Quite!Just—hh…sn’tsCHh’eeze-hhHH! H’RRSHC’hu!”
You reach your other hand up to stroke through his hair and turn him a little more towards you as he prepares for another. He resists at first out of instinct alone, but adjusts in the moment it takes for the sneeze to have its way with him. As his breath snaps, he ducks his head in the space between you and releases it into your lap. “hh”hRRRASsh’chu!”
“Bless you,” you say, smoothing back his hair. You crawl into his lap and he welcomes you without hesitation, securing your thighs around his hips even as his head tilts back for two more with barely a breath in between. He ducks them between the two of you but there isn’t much space. His hands clench against your thighs with each outburst. “hh-eHH’SCCHE’uh! h’RRSH’ue!”
Blearily, he looks up. He’s dazed. Sniffly. His cheeks are indigo and the area around his nostrils is too. You kiss him, because he just looks so stupidly *kissable* and he murmurs a laugh against your mouth.
“It is quite comforting thatyou find me attractive in such a state,” he sniffs once you pull away.
“Very attractive,” you remind him.
He smiles, and continues smiling even as his expression flickers again. “Ah, one-hh more perhaps,” he says. He raises a hand in front of his face and a rather tired sounding sneeze ripples through him. “hH’EDShh!”
“Bless you.”
“I don’t thhhink I’ve ever snhheezed so much in my life-hh!” He leans his forehead onto your shoulder and does away with using his hand to cover, opting to simply hold onto your hips and let the sensation take him. “hh’UEHDSHH’iu!” You stroke his bare back and feel his ribs expand beneath your fingers before tightening twice in quick succession. “hh’NGXT! nG’ssT!”
He clears his throat after and lifts his head back up, adjusting you on his lap. “Ah, I should have asked, do you prefer if I hold them in or let them out? Often I don’t know which it will be until it happens but… perhaps I could try…try to—”
His eyes roll and he turns his head, giving you a clear view of his twitching profile. “If I could juhhst get through a sehh’ESsch!—sentence!”
“I don’t mind either way, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself if you hold them in,” you say to try and spare him.
“Oh, darling, it takes much more than that to hurt me,” he wriggles his nose handsomely and turns back to you with a devilish grin. His eyebrows raise. “And lo! A full sentence! The effects must be wearing off.” He sniffs experimentally and for the first time, his eyes don’t get hazy in the aftermath.
You feel disappointment sink your heart like a stone. It was bound to wear off eventually. But before you can even lament the course of events, he pats your thigh and shifts you off his lap.
“Come, where’s the vial?”
You blink. Surely he doesn’t want to do more of that?
He seems to know exactly what you’re thinking because he taps the bottom of your chin and winks.
“Oh, we’re far from finished, love. Ready for round two?”
#snzblr#snz kink#snz fic#i didn't proofread this and i probably wont until way too late and that's on me#i dont actually even like this but something in me had me at gunpoint until i posted it#anyway this stupid game is fun#idk if i'll write more for it#but this man demanded to be written#HOPE YOU ARE ALL WELL#SORRY IM NEVER HERE I LITERALLY GO FROM 0 to 100 IN TERMS OF MOOD#but this week the dogs be barkin
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“Ethereal Paintings”
14~ Be my muse co-artist☂️ | Word Count-> 1,465
Scaramouche x Reader Smau
Scaramouche has only ever been nervous and worried about two things in his life, one was his mothers approval and receiving love when he was younger. The second was when he started his rise to becoming happier, if he truly deserved the friends he now holds dear.
So this kind of useless bustling of nerves irritated his skin scorching pink neck up. He could tell himself that it was merely a meet-up to talk from one artist to the other.
Except he was dreading his fake facade of an artist title.
He was no artist. He was a coward who wanted the approval of one. With nothing but a computer screen to show.
Scaramouche eyed the clock hands tick as his restlessness increased with it. He ruffled a hand through his hair now anxiously biting his fingernails.
If he kept up with this any longer he would very much back out like the moron he is.
The button ringed from the inside of the studio echoing as anticipated steps clack more sensible towards the door between them. It swung open and your face greets him with a smile.
Scaramouche likes how easily your smile comes, but also hates how melty he feels towards you when it hasn't even been a whole 2 months since you both met.
“Glad you can make it Scara! Welcome to my studio” You wave him in quickly while the door closed shut and you ran back to the large empty canvas stand.
He hms at the loft-like studio. The opposite wall of the front door was fully windowed providing lots of natural light perfect for an artist. The second floor wasn't visible to where he stood since it was overhead, but he could imagine that's where your prized works were and maybe even a rest area where you could sleep in. The studio probably seemed very minimalistic when you first entered, but now the walls and floor have been coated in beautiful color splashes of paint.
Scara was in fact very impressed and in awe with how an artist like you worked, how your art studio is so bright and gorgeous. Truly a manifestation of creativity soaring past its limit.
When your friends told him that you dabbled in every art they weren’t lying.
White tarps laid out of the floors underneath the several canvases stands you had plus a large standing table you held a pc and drawing tablet on. The table held many other art mediums for your disposal.
You were shifting stuff around, hobbling the canvas stand and a few stools as well as more materials for paint and other materials.
“Scara, what medium would you like to try out here? I have every art imaginable” Busy looking through the shelves of art supplies, you couldn’t notice his subtle fear in his stiff movements.
“...Acrylic paint i guess.” He peered at your metal drying rack and saw the recent acrylic painting and choose that as his safe option.
You turn to him with a grin holding them up in a woven bucket, “That’s my preferred medium too”
He gave a slight sigh of relief.
Moving around to place the three stools, one stool for each of your canvases and the third stool for the basket of paint. Gesturing him to sit you gave him his painting palette tray, water cup if he so needed, as well as his brushes and palette knife.
“Let’s just have some fun painting whatever comes to mind, yeah? Whatever you feel like right now. Art therapy time if you will.” You laugh in joy, having a new art friend who would paint with you was nice in its own right.
He nods quietly enjoying your sunshine and the un-desired purpose in this painting.
As he squeezes the needed paint onto his paint tray his ability to color coordinate fails him. A murky purple was made instead of his wanted light pink.
His face narrows and scrunches up as the scraping of his palette knife grinds harder against the wooden tray.
Your iridescent laughter seems to erupt into the room and it draws Scaramouche’s attention away from his threatening stare down with his paint.
“Aren't you an artist?? Hahaa, are you not skilled in the painting area mouchie?”
He jolted at your unintended nickname where both you turned away to collect yourselves for a second. “Well— …yeah, but, i’m still not good.” He cleared his throat to feint embarrassment when he really was swimming in his own remorse.
“What color do you need then? I can make them for you.” He peered at your palette which consisted of pretty pastels. He didn’t want you to mix fresh new paint for his pathetic ass.
“I can just use some of yours. I wanted a small canvas anyways.” You nodded as he scraped some of your hefty mixed paint onto his tray. You got started on applying paint to the blank canvas and he followed along.
Chimes of piano music fill the room from your ongoing playlist playing on your computer. It was rather peaceful.
One of the rare moments Scara can feel at peace.
“If you don’t mind my idle chatter—having a nice chat while drawing is nice to me.” You put down the paintbrush for a second to look at Scaramouche.
“—would you like to hear the story about my parents? It’s one where thinking about it always fuels my art drive and how I'm so immersed in drawing all 99% of the time” His attention is pointed at you in obvious interest. Your fingers pick up the paintbrush and continue light strokes of paint, a bit abashed at his sudden attention to you. Starting off your story, Scaramouche attempts to multitask but finds himself staring off at you instead of his canvas.
“My mother was and IS an artist, my father was just a politician who loved good debates. Y’know like those old aged stuck-up political men.” Chuckles emerged from both sides.
“Father had strong feelings towards art since he thought it was but pointless. He couldn't find the meanings of art. So when he and mother met for the first time they butted heads a lot in debates. Father was that one stubborn lawyer man.”
“Their arguments were real heated and well put out points were favored on my moms side. When mom got an offer for a large project that caused her presence to be in Sumeru, dad was a little empty without the debate over art and how useless it is. He grew so used to the debates every week when he was able to see her working as they bumped heads. But he was too stubborn and high on his horse to even ask one of her friends when would she come back.”
“Years passed, like a good 3 years, and she came back to Inazuma as well as many of her paintings to show off her success. When they met again at a politically invested museum he saw mom again after weeks of her return. He saw her showcasing her works with the most grandiose and genuinely happy-in-life smile. Compared to her lesser smiles when she wasn’t profound in the arts.”
“It was then where he fell in love with mother. Her strong will for her crafts, her hands that hide all her calluses from hours of work. And the smallest detail on the piece even caught a mile away, he fell for it all. He told her of his admiration, though awkward with being in touch with his emotions, she was glad she got through to him finally. Mother always admired his stance of his opposing opinion, it was the big push for her to compose such a grand choice of risking a lot for art which gave her no stable income. Without him, her hopes to prove to the world that art is needed, she would have stayed hidden as ‘one of those disgraceful artists with no real job.”
“When they got married she taught him how to paint and they were so much in love. Still the debater, he challenges her to art history and how he knows the most about her large contribution to opening up the art world. The amount of times i asked them to repeat the story to me, haha i think I might have high standards now.”
“Enemies to lovers…”
“Hm? I don't know, having an enemy is kinda.. clique, no? And i honestly don’t think i can ever date an enemy i hate.”
Scaramouche shrugs as he attempts to brush up his awful attempt of a painting. “I don’t think I would be able to bear an enemy either.”
You smile and got up brushing your apron. “I have a bunch of snacks in my pantry. Let me fetch them.”
Previous | Masterlist | Next
Synopsis{2}-> Many study dates and flirting over weeks drew you both close. Awkwardness still drew a line between you both but it was enough for a start. Admiring him from the sidelines wasn't enough, however, pieces of the false facade start to shred; and fate has ways of twisting your heartstrings — Is he really– …
We love parents in love🫶and y/n following in their footsteps🤭
The plot is finally moving🥹🥳
Un-Ooc(ing) scara when the plot thickens
//Taglist//
@akagism2 @pokidot @feiherp @kyouzki @rmiyuki @infe-risk0 @sakurapeach @bluebelony @kichiyoshi @mikctp @kur44pika @cupids-chamber @crucnhice @neigesprincess @scaramoo @gojoandelsalovechilde @childeslegstrap @sakiimeo @d4y-dr3am3r @m3gitsune @scarletttcroww @sashiette @beriiov @rizakari @xiaossocksniffer @lxry-chxn @bryai003 @eunchaeluvr @goj0h
#genshin fic#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin smau#text fic#genshin impact smau#genshin screenshots#genshin x y/n#scara smau#scaramouche x you#scara social media au#genshin scara#genshin scaramouche#scara x you#scara x y/n#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x y/n#scara x reader#scaramouche
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With the reveal of an NB character in Ninjago, I feel that people are placing this theme on a pedestal because of this one single move of inclusion. Don't get me wrong— I'm glad that LEGO is including LGBTQIA+ identities into their themes, and I genuinely hope they continue doing so, but we're forgetting that they're investing a step forward into a theme that's always going two steps back.
I don't feel like pointing out the issues of Ninjago, especially because it's tiresome and it's not the point of this post, but I remember that there was an entire thread here on Tumblr about the problematic worldbuilding of Ninjago. I might write something about it as well, but it's unlikely.
Chima had a great amount of inclusion and diversity within its cast (though no canon LGBTQIA+ characters, unfortunately):
POC-equivalent characters (brown and blue crocodiles; vultures with tan and bright blue skin colors), of which a few of those are part of tribes that have a motif from predominantly white cultures (Longtooth and Lavertus, who are brown lions in a tribe with a roman motif; Ehboni, Eglor, who are black and dark blue respectively, alongside unnamed eagles of mixed origins [dark blue x white] in a tribe of greek motif, and even Ewald himself isn't white).
A majority of these characters are important to the plot and/or have reoccurring appearances;
Diversity in tribe lifestyles, with the Wolf Tribe being nomadic (and not going through the stereotype of nomadic traders).
Each vehicle in Chima follows the motif and lifestyle of their respective tribe. For example, crocodiles are ambush predators and require camouflage, thus their vehicles are heavily based on military vehicles, with camo colors and strong silhouettes;
Marginalized characters whose arcs actually end with them winning and gaining respect. The Ice Hunters vs. Phoenixes arc was an obvious allegory of colonization, and it ends with the Ice Hunters alive and thriving, while the Phoenixes (who started the war) lost and failed to 'educate' their enemies.
The Crawlers also have their arc finished with an anti-war and pro-diversity lesson, where Laval lends them Chi because it's not supposed to be earned, and instead is free for everyone, even though they had stolen all of Mount Cavora's Chi beforehand;
Characters whose appearance is distinctive and break barriers of ableism are not only present in Chima, but are also treated equally to other characters, without having their differences be a point, argument, or lesson. (Cragger with a blind eye, Crug with a prosthetic jaw, the Raven Tribe as a whole, Leonidas with distinctively shaped incisors and Longtooth with long canines).
However, the Rhinoceros Tribe is an unfortunate exception, as they're constantly depicted as dumb;
The Lion Tribe has a lot of diversity by itself, with lions having a variety of mane colors that represent hair colors in real life. Laval has red hair, Leonidas is ginger, Lavertus is blond, Lennox has brown hair;
Other cultural representations such as Dom de La Woosh being based on Brazilian carnivals;
There's Wonald, a vegan character;
My favorite fact of all: Chima and Chi are both real words who exist in multiple languages, and each of their meanings was instrumental to the interpretation we have in this theme. → Chi means: knowledge in japanese; water (literally) and source of life (figuratively) in chinese; god in igbo. Chima means "god knows all" in igbo → in LoC, the Phoenixes created Chi, which looks like water and is the source of life/knowledge in Chima, and they also sculpted Mount Cavora with each tribe's heads before they had even evolved.
All of this unfortunately flew over most people's heads, which is a bad thing, as all of the effort that was put on Chima's diversity was left unnoticed, but it is also a good thing at the same time, because everything was executed seamlessly and naturally, just like how people should view each other in real life (view one another without discrimination). However, this amount of care and thought put into adding a diverse cast of characters is probably not going to be seen again, in any lego theme or any story made by corporations/companies.
#lego chima#lego legends of chima#legends of chima#diversity#inclusion#inclusivity#diverse characters#inclusive design#inclusive writing#respect#anti war#anti ableism#equality#world building#worldbuilding#for chima#lego
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I wanted to request if you can make the version of reader where she's wearing a suit in you're fic of alice cullen "prom"
A near copy of this fic except with some tweaking
Alice Cullen x GN! reader
"Hello Mr. Y/l/n! Is y/n home? Were getting ready for prom." Alice was always a great persuader. You wouldn't say she had the world wrapped around her finger but definitely some influence.
"Y/n's up in their room, you both have fun!"
"Will do! Thanks!" She flew to your room many things in hand. "Y/n!"
"Alice!"
"I already have a suit, and hair ready to go!"
"Okay..?"
"Now all you have to do is let me dress you up and look pretty! So what you always do," she said with a wink.
"Where to start, where to start...," she was deep in thought when she snapped back into reality. "Actually Y/n were going to have a little fashion show before we start anything else." She unzipped the 1st suit from its bag, it was a deep onyx black, 3 pieces, and came with a tie.
And after slipping it on you walked out of the bathroom for Alice to see.
"What do you think?" She asked, you could tell she liked the suit a lot on you.
"I like it, but I'm curious about what's in those other bags." I gestured to the 2 other bags laid across my bed.
"Looking into every opportunity! What I love to hear," her optimism remaining thick as she reached for the second bag. This suit was a deep navy blue. The material was something you couldn't determine. All that mattered was that it was smooth and looked airy.
"Is your dress navy?"
"Yes it is," she smiled, "now go change!"
Walking out to Alice, it was like she understood the pleasure of this suit. "Is this the one?"
"Maybe but it's definitely high on the list."
"There is one more, if you want to try it."
"What's the trouble in trying?"
"Exactly!" And she unzipped the last suit. This last one was muted silver with a black shirt.
"Am I hosting a new years eve special?" I joked.
"Very funny. Now go put it on," she smirked and placed a short kiss to your cheek. "And if you were hosting a new years eve special, I'd watch every second!"
I came out in my gleaming armor. I didn't hate it honestly. When in keep in mind the navy dress that was going to be paired with the suit, it looked good.
"Alice?"
"Yes?" Alice was beginning to fold the bags up and put them in the corner
"Since you can see the future, did you see me liking this suit?"
"I saw you liking all three, so I decided to let you make the final choice. Speaking of, which one did you choose?"
"I really love the second one. I think the colors go well with my skin."
"Me too! Okay so now I'm going to go change."
After you both returned, you got to see what Alice chose for herself. It was a deep red, off the shoulder, thick short sleeved, floor length, velvet dress. It was beyond beautiful especially on her.
"Wow," that's all you really could say, she looked Wow.
"Thank you. Now, hair then were good to go." Alice was every gentle when it came to handling you so when she asked how you felt about a certain style, you were surprised anything happened. But when you looked you were quite pleased. Alice had managed to crown your head in ways that made you look exquisite.
"Alice this is amazing! Thank you!" Since she was standing behind you with her hands on your shoulders, she just bet down to place a quick kiss to your forehead.
Still stunned for words you're glad your delighted face sent the right message. "My turn." She flew through her final touches but there's only so much to do when your naturally a sight for sore eyes.
Once she finished she stood and looked at you with pure fondness in her eyes. Her cold hand cupped your cheek and brought you in for a short but sweet kiss. When she pulled away, to early for your liking, she said," what? We can't mess up our look y/n. At least not before prom," the final line sent with a smirk.
"Now let's go shall we?"
"But.." you trailed off in embarrassment.
"But?" Concern streaked her features.
Very quietly you muttered," I can't dance."
"Oh! Don't worry about that, you have me," though you didn't know what that could entail, her voice was confident enough you didn't investigate.
And with that you both had a very lovely evening.
#twilight x reader#alice cullen x reader#alice x reader#alice cullen fic#alice cullen fanfic#alice cullen#twilight fluff#twilight#mountkennedie
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I know everyone will most certainly be shocked to see Mukuro alive, but are they seriously not gonna talk about her red hair?
I LOVE it! It's such a good look for her!
You...really think so?
It is certainly different seeing you with long hair. When did you have a chance to dye it?
I didn't. That's actually WHY its red.
So it's your natural color?
Yes. I didn't keep that a secret for any particular reason, I just...felt it wasn't necessary to bring up.
Well, you look absolutely gorgeous. I'm gonna really need to think about which dress I buy you next! Something that compliments this shade perfectly.
...Can we...really just go back to normal like that? Even after I left, and faked my death, and caused you so much stress...?
I'm surprised you don't hate me.
...!
*Sayaka hugs Mukuro and kisses her softly on the cheek.
I love you Mukuro. And I don't care that you left anymore. I'm just glad you came back!
...I...couldn't exactly go anywhere else. This is where I really belong. You girls are the only real family I've ever known...
So...Don't worry...I'm not...going anywhere.
Mukuro...
*sigh* Dork...
*Kyoko, Sayaka and Mukuro break down as they engage in a tight group hug.
#danganronpa survivor#danganronpa#danganronpa 1#dr1#kyoko kirigiri#mukuro ikusaba#sayaka maizono#ask#the day the world stood still arc#kirizono#naezono#mukugiri#ikuzono
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The Tale Of The Butterflies - Now Out on AO3
CLICK HERE TO READ THE FULL FIC
"This goes out to my grandma
Who fell with the April breeze
And just like the autumn leaves
I hope she grows back to me
When butterflies migrate on to spring."
Grass creaks under their boots as they walk. It’s their one day-off, and Hanji had insisted on them going out the walls to explore.
“C´mon! It’ll be fun!”, they’d said. And Levi, though reluctant, had accepted in the end. He had thought about using the spare time to clean around headquarters. But the weather was too nice to waste. Besides, they had already fixed a cleaning-day a few weeks prior. A little sun wouldn’t hurt him much.
He sighs, stares at the clearing before him. It’s early spring, and the first-born sprouts begin to poke from the trees; branches dotted by shy specs of green. It’s a wonderful sight, he has to admit. Light seeps through the leaves, paints the fields of cellophane gold. And he thinks, he’s quite glad Hanji had dragged him out for a walk, after all. Even when, by walk, he means listening to their rambles or getting his clothes dirty.
“Look!”, he hears them call. They are pointing at a rare flower, lost somewhere in a midst of wood and brown. A butterfly floats around its petals; its wings fragile, fluttering in see-through yellow. “Isn’t this beautiful?”
Levi hums. Hanji had taken him discover the pretty to the world. The sparkle that laid in common-detail, so often invisible to the eye. He had a much more different stance at life before he met them, he tells himself. The Underground was harsh, and cold, and ruthless. And so, he thought he could only seek survival, then.
“It’s still a bug.”, he huffs. His voice is rather soft, despite the rough tone.
Hanji laughs at him, as if their fingers had caught the sweet within his words.
“I've never told you about butterflies, haven’t I?”, they ask; arms crossed over their chest. The afternoon light splatters over brown hair. Has turned their glasses into a stained kaleidoscope. “Come, quick! Get over here!”
Levi shakes his head, but does so, anyways. Truth is, they had shown him the colors of the wild, helped him understand rain and stars. It made him feel like he belonged, somehow. Like he could always find rainbows hidden in a universe that had unraveled to black and white.
"What is it?"
Hanji extends a finger. The butterfly has perched upon it, foolishly mistaken it for a flower petal. It makes them giggle; how its tiny legs trickle their skin. How Levi gives them a knowing stare, wide-eyed and curious.
“These babies”, they tell him, as they lift their hand up. “Only live for a single day.”
Levi frowns. His mouth parts open: an expression of sheer innocence. It’s almost as if he’s just starting to grow, like leaves that crawl from the mud. He doesn’t quite understand, yet, the way some things work. And he takes a guess, even if just to entertain the idea, that it’s nice to be a little bit naive, still.
“I call bullshit.”, he grunts. The butterfly sits in quiet; its wings shimmering under the timid rays of dusk. How could something so complex fade away so quickly?
Hanji laughs, louder this time.
“It’s true!”, they try to defend themselves. Their smile is warm and kind, wider than the open fields. “They start as caterpillars, first.”, they explain, though rather careful. “Then, they go through a transition process known as metamorphosis.”
Levi says nothing for a while, drinks in every trace of sunlight. He can’t help but think that they sound like an expert, indeed. That it’s just like they’ve spent their whole lives searching for answers to the mysteries of nature.
He looks at the butterfly first, and at Hanji, after. They’re holding their finger up to their nose, so near they’ve turned crossed-eyed and dizzy. He figures, probably, there’s tenderness about the ways they have for exploring. That his soul is left exposed at the sight of them: skewed glasses, clothes speckled.
“Ah, well…!”, he hears them speak again. “I just find it so incredible! A few months in and ta-da! They completely change forms.”
He scoffs. It seemed gross, in all honesty. But that, he wouldn't say. Hanji most likely knew already, anyways.
“All that and just to die within a day, huh...?”, he sighs, disappointed.
Hanji nods, and takes his hand into theirs for a moment. There’s a thin layer of dust that’s collected underneath their nails. A warm splotch of sweat that peppers over their palms, too.
Still, Levi doesn’t care.
"Super unfair, if you ask me.", he watches them shrug, ever so carefree. The butterfly's fumbled from their finger onto his, made a home out of his embrace. And he feels as though time has stopped, right there and then. Like he's cradling a daydream too good to be true. "So, pay attention, alright? We're probably never gonna see this again!"
He catches his breath. The butterfly spreads its wings, shows them every hue of golden and yellow. It's fascinating, he thinks, as he brings it up close to his face. He'd been told, the world was supposed to be one filled with despair. An irregular battlefield, where love could only come at the cost of loss.
Yet, he notices, there's a beauty that remains precious, even in the simple. Some kind of wonder that stays in moments of quiet: the fading sunsets, the blink of an eye. Hanji goes on adventures, smiles with their heart light. And he finds that it's contagious, really. That passion of theirs. That they can let joy bloom in places others had planted with sorrow.
How do they do it?
“I don’t get it.”, he complains. And they let out a giggle: a sound that drifts away with the breeze.
“You don’t have to, Levi.”, they tell him. The traces of their voice hang loose around the edges; his name a soft whisper on their lips. “To be frank, I don’t quite get it myself, either…”
He remains quiet for a minute, takes in the perfume that lingers in the air. A smile of his own has blossomed on his mouth, shy as wildflowers that push above-ground. He's aware of how stubborn he can be. How he can seem cool and unfazed, at times. Still, he decides that, maybe, Hanji can be right, if only just for now. That there’s some kind of comfort in sharing himself with someone who simply understands.
He exhales, and looks up at the butterfly: the way it floats off to the afternoon. It appears to him, somehow, the meadows feel emptier now that it’s gone. Yet, he’s certain, there’s not much he can do about what’s finite, after all.
Some things are meant to slip beyond one’s line of comprehension, anyways.
"I think we should start heading back.", he offers, as he gets up to sweep the mud that’s on his pants. The sun’s about to set, and all he really wishes for is a long, hot shower before dinner.
Hanji grazes him another smile, and helps themselves off the floor, as well.
“Then admit that you had fun, at least!”, they tease. And Levi figures, perhaps, to them happiness can be only but a butterfly, in the end. The brittle that's in beauty. The fleeting one yearns to keep from the sweet betrayals of time.
He huffs and turns around to stare at them, still walking a few steps behind. He did have a wonderful day, indeed. But that, he wouldn't say. Hanji most likely knew already, anyways.
"Don’t be stupid.", he goes, instead. And they laugh in response, loud, and wild, and clear. “We’re gonna be late for tea.”
#levihan#levi ackerman#hange zoe#hanji zoe#hange zoe lives#hanji zoe lives#hange zoe survives the rumbling#hanji zoe survives the rumbling#post war#post canon#canonverse#canon compliant#ao3 fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic preview#canon fix it#fix it fic#happy ending#post rumbling#canon alternative#canon divergence#fluff#angst#fluff and angst#tooth rotting fluff#first kiss#flashbacks#bathtub scenes#friends to lovers
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