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#I JUST KNOW she was being mean to waitstaff
lugosis · 10 months
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Mike Nesmith - 1967 - Taken by Micky Dolenz
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ozzgin · 6 months
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The Mean Girl Bully Reader x Nerd Loser Yandere story sparked another red flag reader idea I had 😈
Imagine a Bratty Female Reader x Well Mannered Wealthy Male Yandere. Unlike our favorite monster whore gal, and two-faced bully, this new reader insert is super vocal about her distaste in just about everything. Hardly anything is up to her “standards.” She not only complains, but whines too! 🥳
Then her poor beau weirdly loves her despite her horrid personality. I don’t know how, I’ll leave that part of imagining up to you, but there’s my request 🥺
I just like morally grey or blatant antagonistic readers. A lot of times, it’s more fun if the reader is attractive this way to a yandere, than having stereotypical good traits, like being compassionate or respectful 😔
So please, a Bratty Female Reader x Well Mannered Wealthy Male Yandere?
-👘
I was wondering if I should just incorporate this into the Yandere CEO draft I have, but I had this sudden idea for a downright shameless relationship between a beloved, well-respected politician and a perverted, needy brat of a Darling. (I don't like politicians but alas, I needed a high-stakes public profession for this)
Yandere! Politician x Bratty! Reader
Mr. Politician is a true rarity in his field of work: well-mannered, articulate, and most importantly, genuine in his dedication. He works tirelessly for change and improvement, earning the adoration of the people. There's only one exception to his loyalty: no country ever comes before his Darling. And what a demanding Darling you are...
Content: female reader, older yandere, NSFW, some exhibitionism
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Many would describe their interactions with Mr. Politician as follows: he's disciplined, confident and resourceful. A natural born leader, you can tell within seconds of meeting him that he is a man to rely on. He's spent many years in the game, and nothing can shake him out of his signature calmness. He keeps everything in pristine order, and nothing escapes his scrutiny.
There is, however, one quirk only few select people know about. A detail no one dares to discuss. It is common knowledge that Mr. Politician has a partner, yet the particularities of it are kept private. His beloved is a much younger girl, rotten to the core. It is unclear how this pairing came to be; the day Mr. Politician won his place in his prestigious office, he showed up with the mysterious feminine figure at his side.
What's certain and obvious to all witnesses is that his vocabulary quickly discards any meaning of refusal whenever he's dealing with you. It almost feels like the man worships you. He's never alluded to being religious, most likely because that role's been taken already. His eyes soften whenever directed at you, gleaming with raw adoration.
Splurging on expensive things is a given. Money has never been an issue for someone of his status. In fact, it's a handy and convenient tool he frequently uses to dampen the damage of your tantrums.
"Disgusting", you spit between your teeth, pushing the plate away and crossing your arms. The renowned chef of the Michelin star restaurant can only stare in horror before Mr. Politician intervenes with a chuckle. "Not feeling it today, huh?", he coos at you with loving strokes. "May I ask that you bring everything else from the menu?" he says in a sterner voice to the employee. "E-everything, Sir?" the waitstaff questions. "Well, naturally. I can't let my Darling starve."
"I'm bored. Let's leave now", you mention bluntly, standing in front of the heavily ornate table with a huff. "Are you sure, Darling? It's an important meeting for the country", Mr. Politician tries to plead. Around him, the other men sit baffled, observing the outrageous exchange. "Now!" you conclude louder. Before anyone can protest, your boyfriend stands up obediently and reaches out for your hand. "Then allow me to guide you, love."
A paradox. His earnest work is put to a halt if you require anything from him. Somehow, he has until now managed to juggle the two with little effort, and to his credit, there have been many instances requiring nerves of steel. Such as you paying him an unannounced visit to the office, and disliking the fact he was unavailable due to a meeting. So, you marched over to the window and promptly flashed your chest against the glass. Everyone else was focused on the opposing whiteboard; he was the only one who immediately noticed your arrival. "As you can see, the expected result is irresistible", he continued with a professional smile, tapping the graph with a marker.
Everyone knows Mr. Politician is fervently devoted to his principles. Take his last public speech, for example. Knuckles white from gripping the podium, he'd nearly choked during an eloquent -but passionate - conclusion. His face was red, his jaw tightened. He needed a moment to recollect himself, and the public waited with bated breaths, visibly emotional. Of course, they couldn't tell the outrageous truth: that you were shamelessly kneeling at his feet, pumping and teasing his erection until, at last, he let go all over your face.
"I wanted to see if you'd stumble on your words", you explain afterwards, wiping the sticky liquid off with a damp cloth. "That would've been unpleasant", he responds with a shiver. "It was live on national television."
He does not seem too bothered by the potential risk of being caught. Truly, his nonchalance knows no bounds when it comes to you. Or perhaps it is part of the charm. There's something quite depraved yet tempting about this perpetual contrast.
To return your daring favor, he gently places you onto his desk and spreads your legs, leaving trails of kisses along the inner surface of your thigh. A quick glance down confirms his suspicions: your bare bottom lays on top of confidential, rather important documents he dutifully signed hours ago. How thrilling of a feeling! He already smiles in anticipation, picturing himself as he hands over the folder to the oblivious party. He's not breaking any rules, now, is he? Nowhere in the book of etiquette does it state you mustn't fuck your beloved on top of official papers.
You gaze at the disheveled face underneath you. "One day I'll get you in trouble", you blurt out between whines. "Me? Oh, Darling. You know I always have everything under control." He lifts himself up and gives you a quick, desperate kiss. "Including you."
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the-iceni-bitch · 1 month
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Chemical Override, Ultraviolet. You Could Be Mine Tonight…
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Relationship: lawyer!amazon Natasha Romanoff x plus size!short female!reader (Big Red and Peach)
Words: ~2.3k
Summary: It’s your birthday, again, and Nat really can’t help but spoil you.
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (w/w sex, strap-on use, pussy eating), established relationship, kind of idiots in love, they’re just really fucking cute, SMUT!!! NO MINORS!!!
A/N: I love them and I’ve missed them terribly. They really are so goddamn adorable.
I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all my fics follow my sideblog, @the-iceni-library , and turn on notifications!
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“God, do we really have to go?” You pouted at Nat while she grabbed her purse. “We could spend the day at home and do dirty stuff.”
“Baby, it’s your birthday, a big one,” she chuckled when you huffed at her, “Listen, just trust me. I know you, I know what you like. I promise you’ll have a good time. You’ve been wanting to try this place forever, right?”
“I guess…” You had, but it was always so busy, and your loving but occasionally overbearing girlfriend was probably going to make the waitstaff sing to you.
Before you had a chance to whine any more she was shoving you out the front door. At least it was a short walk, but that didn’t mean you were going to quit being a brat about this. Every time you were about to complain she would just kiss you, though. Then you would forget what you were going to make a fuss about and get pouty about that. Damn her and her ability to predict your behavior! Why couldn’t she let you be grumpy? Of course, it was always hard to stay grumpy when your gorgeous Amazon of a girlfriend was holding your hand and smiling at you like you were the whole world. You were going to give it your best shot, though. It’s not like she didn’t love you cranky ass anyway.
When you reached the restaurant you let out a loud whine, stamping your feet a few times and pouting while Nat just smiled and dragged you inside. You braced yourself for the crowd and the noise and all the shit you didn’t want to deal with on your birthday.
But it was empty. It was Friday night and one of the most popular restaurants in the city was empty.
“Nat…” you squeezed her hand when she led you to the only set table in the place. “What did you do?”
“I decided to spoil my little peach for her birthday.” She just shook her head when you sniffed at her holding your chair out for you. “C’mon sweetheart. I already gave the chef and bartender a list of what you wanted to try most so you won’t have to see anyone else except when they bring out the next dish.”
“Jesus Christ,” you were still getting used to how well this woman treated you, but looking at the smoked salmon tarts and pink cocktails you couldn’t help but smile. “Are they gonna bring all the rosé cocktails?”
“You bet your fine little ass they are,” she kissed your hand as she sat down next to you. “Just don’t get too drunk. Can’t have you falling off my dick later tonight.”
“Nat!” You slapped your hand over your mouth when you snorted and felt your Paloma go up your nose. “Will you ever stop bringing that up?”
“Not ever,” she grabbed your hand when you slapped her shoulder and kissed each of your fingers, growling playfully and nibbling on your thumb when you snuggled up to her. “Your adorable little squeal when you tumbled off the bed is forever ingrained into my memory. My little girl was just so sure she could ride the big boy.”
“Shut up,” you let her feed you a tart and scrunched up your face when she kissed your forehead. “I would’ve been fine if I was sober.”
“Whatever you say, birthday girl,” Nat took a sip of her vodka cranberry and wound her arm around your waist. “Not like you get overconfident whenever you’re drunk or anything.”
“Hey, if I can take it lying down I should be able to ride it!” When you realized how loud you were talking you were suddenly very grateful that the restaurant was empty, your face getting all kinds of hot as you took a long drink of your Paloma. “I mean, logically.”
Nat really did know you and what you liked, and it didn’t piss you off like it used to at all. You could talk to her about anything when it was just the two of you. You could laugh that stupidly loud and screechy laugh you did when she reminded you of something stupid you did that she insisted was the most adorable thing in the world. The food and the drinks tasted amazing when you weren’t feeling overwhelmed by people surrounding you. Just you and her, and goddamn you were in love with her.
“This cake is fucking ridiculous,” you giggled when she wheeled out some pink flowery monstrosity with sparklers sticking out of it. “It looks too pretty to eat.”
“But eat it we shall,” damn her being so cute and cheering while she filmed you blowing out the sparklers then helped you pull them out of your cake. “I got the dark chocolate cherry you wanted to try. So eat a slice then we’ll pack it up and take it home.”
“Well,” you beamed at her when she cut you a nice big slice. “If you insist. Holy fuck, this is soooooo good!”
You could have eaten the whole thing. You would have if Nat hadn’t made a cryptic comment about a special surprise when she started to box up the cake. As much as you loved cake, you loved surprises from your girlfriend even more. So you just kept that ridiculously goofy grin on your face while she somehow managed to both hold the box of cake and keep you from wobbling when you tried to walk home on your semi-drunk legs.
“So bubbly when you drink your little pink drinks… shit!” Nat threw her head back and laughed heartily when you pounced on her as soon as she had put the cake down once you got home. “My my, aren’t we the eager little thing?”
“Mmhm,” you kissed all over her face and made needy sounds. “Need my birthday spanks from mommy.”
“Dear lord,” she gave you another lovely laugh and then threw you over her shoulder, slapping your ass as she started carrying you up the stairs while she counted off. “One… two… three…”
By the time you had reached the master bedroom she was finished and you were so worked up you could hardly breathe. You squealed when she tossed you on the bed and tore off your dress, your face getting warm when she looked at you like she was going to eat you alive. It still gave you the butterflies in your stomach whenever she looked at you like that, you always had a little bit of trouble believing she was real and in love with you.
“Wait, where are you going?” You propped yourself up on your elbows when she was suddenly gone. “Hey, I’m naked and it’s my birthday, what the fuck, Romanoff?”
“Be a little patient, pretty peach,” your sassy retort died in your throat when she walked out of the closet wearing nothing but lacy red panties, thigh highs, and a very large black strap on you had never seen before. “You really think I would leave my best girl hanging on her birthday?”
“Hehe, nuh-uh,” you squeaked when she grabbed both of your ankles and yanked you down the bed, gasping and wiggling when she nipped at your heel before kissing her way up the inside of your leg. “Mommy…”
“Mommy knows, baby girl,” she smiled against your skin when you kicked and giggled at her sucking on the sensitive spot on the back of your knee. “We have to make sure you’re ready for mommy’s cock, peach.”
You just mumbled nonsense in response as she nibbled her way to your throbbing core. As soon as her mouth met your slit your entire body shuddered violently, your breath coming in such fast, short pants you were worried about hyperventilating. But hey, passing out when your amazing sex goddess of a girlfriend was licking your pussy would be far from a bad thing. It hadn’t even been thirty seconds and you already felt like you were right on the edge, your eyes rolling back in your head and your hips grinding against her face while she fucked your with her mouth. When she gave your swollen clit a little nibble you broke, sobbing and squirming wildly as your cunt fluttered and gushed all over her face.
As soon as you were finished she was crawling up your body and stealing what little breath you had left in your lungs with a kiss so passionate you were quite sure you were going to faint. Then she was inside you, and goddamm. You were so overwhelmed all you could do was babble incoherently and clutch at her shoulders as she drove into you over and over again.
“Such an eager little girl for mommy, aren’t you?” Nat chuckled when your only response was a hiccup as she ground against your clit. She kissed your lips again, then kissed your neck, and then she was sucking on one of your nipples and oh look at that, you came again already. “That’s it. I bet your little pussy is squeezing mommy’s cock so hard right now. You are making a mess all over mommy’s thighs right now, peach.”
How you were supposed to actually respond to her was a mystery. You were nothing but a writhing bundle of sensations at the moment, sobbing and gasping while she fucked you with that strange mix of ferocity and tenderness that made submitting to her so damn easy. The occasional glimpse of her gorgeous face hovering above you managed to break through the fuzzy haze of your vision but then the world just turned back into a warm, golden glow as she somehow managed to wring even more pleasure out of your spent body.
“Fuck!” Your third orgasm made your body spasm so hard you were almost in pain, drool leaking from the corner of your slack mouth when she kissed you and started to pull out. “No, wait… nononono, don’t go…”
“Peach, baby,” Nat chuckled when you lifted your hips to try to keep the strap inside you. “You can hardly keep your mouth closed right now, birthday girl. Mommy thinks it might be time for some aftercare.”
“But…” you gave her a cute little scowl then rolled over onto your stomach, arching your back and pushing your hips up so you could wiggle your ass just a little. “It’s my birthday. Can… can you just fuck my ass a little bit… pretty pretty please?”
“You are an insatiable little minx, Jesus Christ,” she shook her head affectionately and gave your ass a firm smack, groaning appreciatively at the jiggle of your generous curves before spreading your cheeks and spitting right on your asshole. “I’ve spoiled you, haven’t I?”
“Mmhm… fuuuuuuuck…” your eyes rolled back again when she slid her finger inside your ass, rocking your hips so you were basically fucking your own hole on her hand while she gave you a few more quick spanks. “More…”
Nat really couldn’t say no to you, smacking your ass one more time as she slid a second finger inside you. It was hard not to give you everything you wanted when you were this fucking responsive, your pussy gushing and your voice leaving you in an adorable squeak when she pushed in a third finger. She could feel your desperation in the way your insides fluttered and clenched around her digits, leaning over your perfect, soft body and kissing the back of your neck while she stretched you open. Her fingers were gone without warning but you only had a moment to mourn the loss because then she was slamming the strap inside you so hard you saw god for just a second.
You had to bite the sheets underneath you to keep from screaming like you were being murdered as she started to fuck your ass in deep, long strokes. Her teeth were digging into your shoulder, her hips were grinding against your cheeks, and your ass was so full of her dick your guts were most likely going to be permanently rearranged. Then she was touching you, her hands were everywhere and maybe you could have held out a little longer but then one of her hands was between your legs and you were lost.
“There we go… that’s it, baby girl,” Nat crooned and slammed into you one last time as you came with a shriek, rubbing your clit gently while you shuddered and wailed from pure ecstasy. “Such a perfect girl for mommy.”
She pulled out of you slowly once you had collapsed into the mattress, undoing the harness around her hips and waist quickly and tossing the toy aside before wrapping you in her arms again. You just took a few short breaths as you struggled to get yourself under control, sighing when she rolled you onto your side and held you close to her chest.
“God, that was a pretty good fucking birthday present,” you giggled when she kissed your forehead and wound your arms around her waist. “Not gonna lie, I was thinking you were going to propose when you made such a big fucking deal about this one.”
“Were you?” Nat tilted your head back with a finger under your chin and beamed at you. “It is a big birthday, peach, but I wanted today to be all about you. Besides, I don’t like surprise proposals. That’s why I’m doing it at Christmas.”
“Oh, haha,” you snorted and rolled your eyes, your throat suddenly getting tight when she just kept smiling at you like she knew something you didn’t. “Nat… Nat, say ‘haha’. Nat, don’t you fucking joke around with me right now, that’s not nice,” you felt the blood run from your face when she just kissed your forehead and stood up while murmuring about running a bath. “Nat?! Natasha?!!!”
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cordeliawhohung · 9 months
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WAIT ✋ YOU SAY THAT SHy!READER IS A WAITRESS? Well i just KNOW simon books a table in a dark corner in that very restaurant you work at for one person (himself) and he sits there for your whole shift sipping on some whiskey and watching you as you run around working and making sure his girl is safe <333
i was actually thinking more of a hostess! so like, someone who greets guests and manages the seating chart for the wait staff, maybe manages take out orders, etc. i think shy!reader would have a much better time with that than having to actually serve and talk and sort of entertain customers lmao.
but!!! doesn't mean he still doesn't keep an eye on you <3 he's sipping on his whiskey, maybe orders some appetizers (and tries to sneak some to you even though you told him that you get free food during your shift!). at first your shift manager was a bit annoyed. "you've got this guy hanging around you like a dog." but then when someone got up in your face over some miscommunication about reservations, and they weren't listening to your manager when she told them to get out or she'd call the cops, Simon took care of them, and ever since she's never once complained about him lurking around lmao.
also! imagine how the waitstaff would fight over who gets to serve him. Simon is very much aware he's being a little over bearing, but he's always so kind to the waitstaff and he tips BIG (because while he loves fucking with the upper class pricks, he has a soft spot for anyone in the working class) and they want that money lmao. you have to seat him in different areas every time he shows up otherwise you'll get complaints. <3
he keeps telling you that you need to quit your job at the restaurant and work as a bartender at John's club. (he just wants to see you flustered in a skimpy outfit lmao) think of the tips! and he'd be right there to watch over you <3 you tell him you'd rather stub your toe than work in a place as busy and scary as that so, alas, Simon is stuck helplessly watching you as he nurses a glass of whiskey in the back of your big chain restaurant ):
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jnnul · 1 year
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five questions
a/n: and here is the first of the wips! i know this was supposed to come out on friday and now it's almost wednesday but it's out and that's worth something, right? i hope you love this little fluff piece + mark as much as i do!
word count: 5.1k
tags: finance bro mark and y/n, slice of life, mostly fluff, kinda your typical suburban modern day couple, idk they’re just good ppl who experience a slow and sweet romance, oh! and mark sucks at beer pong
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sorry, is this seat taken?
you pride yourself on not being a very superficial person. you always look deeper into a person of interest and in the past, your friends have made fun of you because you never seemed to find the people they thought were attractive very hot at all.
he seems like he swears at his mom. they give off the impression that they are rude to waitstaff. i don’t care how hot she is, she’s literally fighting with a customer service worker for no reason.
did it mean that your ability to look past superficial identity led to you giving some pretty sketchy people second chances? maybe. but usually, it did more good than harm.
but for all of your in depth thinking, you realize that you’re just as superficial as every last one of your friends when the man of your dreams asks you to marry him.
what he really says is, “is this seat taken?” but it all sounds the same when you’re half in love.
with dark eyes that are bright and shine with innocent curiosity, slender lips with a slight pout, and tousled black hair that falls into his eyes, you realize this man looks like nothing short of an angel.
you stutter out a squeaky, "no, go ahead!" before moving your laptop a little closer to you so that the hot stranger could have space to put his things down. he offers you a sweet smile before sliding into the seat next to you.
"my name is mark, by the way," he says once he's settled into his seat. he's about to ask your name but he nods to the keychain that's attached to your lanyard. "i'm guessing your name is y/n? that's a cute keychain."
"yeah," you say, flipping the keychain so that mark could see it properly. "one of the kids i teach made me it a couple years ago and i've carried it around ever since."
mark's eyebrows furrow at that as he checks his calendar to make sure that he's in the right class. "you're an education major? what's an education major doing in a business statistics class? this class is an upper level business class i thought?"
you nod and close your laptop so that mark could see the sticker on the backside of your laptop. you point out the biggest one that has 'ucla - anderson school of management' written in bright yellow letters. mark's eyebrows knit as he reads it and you can't help but laugh softly at how utterly confused he looks.
"i'm a finance major. i just really like kids so i spent last summer juggling between an internship at apple and volunteering at a learning summer camp for kids who are underprivileged in education," you explain, watching as mark's confusion turns to awe, his dark eyes glinting as you explain.
"damn. that's so cool of you, y/n. i'm sorry i assumed you were an education major. turns out you're just an angel instead," mark says, almost offhandedly. you freeze at the last sentence and immediately, mark's ears turn bright red as he realizes what he had said.
you to turn to face forward as mark rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and if you weren't so damn flustered, you would take a picture of how incredibly cute he looks.
mark had pretty privilege, as far as you were concerned. if any other person said that, you would probably just laugh it off and thank them but a single comment from mark had you blushing and internally combusting. the worst part? you didn't even mind it.
the two of you are silent for another couple minutes before you turn to him once more, a corner of your lips tilted upwards, a teasing look in your eyes.
"you know i definitely don't mind being called angel by a pretty boy," you say casually. you try not to let your voice give away how nervous mark actually makes you but there's still a little shake when you say the word 'pretty'. because really, mark was so pretty. just...too pretty to be good for your heart.
it doesn't really matter though because mark looks at you like you've personally put the stars in the sky.
"you think i'm pretty?" mark says, his voice soft and tentative. you look at him strangely. surely he had heard that many times over the course of his life? why did he sound so surprised?
"i think you're very pretty, mark," you say matter-of-factly. mark wants to say something else but everyone has filed in and it seems as though the professor is starting the lecture soon as the lights begin to dim in the hall.
mark has heard that he was attractive many times before. in fact, he'd probably become synonymous with the word handsome, as his superlative in high school was 'most likely to become a famous singer' and 'most likely to win prom king'.
so why did his heart flutter so much when you called him pretty?
can you help me with this one?
turns out, mark is shit at statistics. he's great at the business part, as you have learned over the past three weeks of sitting next to each other and working on the practice problems together. but the actual statistics? you might as well be working with a victorian child.
"i still don't understand why you can't just assume that this condition applies in all scenarios," mark says as he reads through the question once more. the two of you had grown pretty close over the past month or so, and often, you would go to the library after class to work on the assigned homework or projects together.
mark was a good study buddy (he always brought good snacks) and he had a great work ethic that made you feel guilty about not studying when he was. not to mention that he was gorgeous eye candy to look at whenever you needed to take a break from your work.
which was pretty much all the time if it meant looking at mark lee a little while longer.
your friends had teased you when you described your encounters with mark thus far. although they never really crossed the line between platonic and romantic relationships, just the fact that you were practically dying of anticipation was enough to rile your friends up.
you had had a few partners in the past but most of them ended at the situationship stage - very few of them become actual relationships. so, you had put a pause on dating for good (much to the dismay of your gossip mongering best friends) and had been happily single for the past year or so. unfortunately, that was when you met mark lee and your heart decided to rebel against all sense of logic.
besides his pretty face (your friends were very surprised to hear that you had developed a crush on a good looking man for once; you had a seriously incriminating track record), mark lee had a pretty heart. he was so incredibly humble and kind to everyone he knew - which was a lot of people, as you came to learn. he was super friendly and great at remembering little details about people that made them feel as though he truly cared about them.
which he really did. it seemed like mark truly cared a lot about every single one of his seemingly thousands of friends and went out of his way to make them feel loved. for you, however, it seemed like he went above and beyond.
it seemed as though after mark (and you, really) had gotten over the initial shyness and awkwardness, the two of you were rarely seen apart. you weren't sure if the two of you were toeing the line of romantic relationship yet, but it just felt like you guys were having fun. even without a label or anything, you and mark tended to gravitate towards each other in social situations and even made consistent efforts to see each other outside of your respective friend groups.
for example, you really didn't belong in the frat scene. you had expended all of the energy and patience you had for frat house parties during your freshman year and quite frankly, as a junior in college, it felt kind of embarrassing to go to them without having any real connections to brothers themselves.
but mark was a brother in nu chi theta so within the first month of your friendship, you found yourself at the NCT house with a red solo cup and an uncomfortable top on.
"hey y/n! i'm losing over here! can you help me with this one?" mark calls out from behind you. you turn around to see him extending a ping-pong ball (that smelled like it was coated in beer, vodka, and...laundry detergent?) in your direction. you look to see if your friends, who you had dragged along to the party, were going to save you from death by beer pong but you're on your own when you see two of your friends making out with the same boy.
you would stop them but the image was far too gruesome and downright hilarious. and in their drunken state, you doubted you could really separate the lovebirds (?) anyway.
"alright, but it's gonna cost you, lee," you sigh dramatically, setting your cup down on the counter before accepting the ping-pong ball, your fingers brushing over mark's.
"name your price," mark says confidently as you line up your shot, ignoring the heat that radiates off of mark's body as you realize that mark was a lot closer than you had previously anticipated. his words sink into your skin and you involuntarily shiver when you feel his breath on your neck.
"hmm...i'll have to think about it..." you trail off, finally throwing the little ping-pong ball into the cup. you turn so that your chest was pressed against mark's front and all your thoughts have been replaced by the look of his eyes in the dim lighting. the words tumble out of your mouth before you even realize what you're saying.
"go on a date with me?"
your heart drops as you see mark's face turn from confusion to shock and then back to confusion. he rubs his neck awkwardly (a habit, you had noticed, that tended to present himself when he felt particularly confused) as he licks his lips nervously.
"was...was us hanging out everyday not...dating? i kinda thought we were already going on dates," mark mumbles, his cheeks flushed. you stare at him and a strange gurgling laughter rips out of your mouth before you clamp your hand over your mouth, your eyes wide in horror at the sound that came out of your mouth.
"does this mean you like me?" you ask, and once again, you're graced with the sight of mark lee looking just all too angelic under the strobe lighting as he nods before tentatively making eye contact with you.
"uh...if you asked me on a date, am i safe to assume that you like me too?" mark proposes and the way that he says it, almost like he was presenting a business pitch to a potential investor, makes you laugh once more as you lean a little closer to mark, your lips barely brushing against his.
"more than you realize, mark."
can i come inside?
the first time mark came with you to help out with the kids at the school, it was completely unexpected. another one of the student teachers had suddenly fallen ill (you found out a few months later that at his girlfriend's baby shower that he was not, in fact, sick) and no one else was available to help out.
your supervisor was a sweet old lady who was dedicated to helping as much as she could before 'her joints gave up on her' - which meant that oftentimes, she tried to take on more responsibility than she really could. and then that meant that she often didn't hire enough staff to keep the place running, hoping that she could do all of the administrative things herself so that all of the people who did come in could focus on working with the kids. needless to say, as one of the only volunteers who had been with the organization for more than four years, you knew more than well that the sweet old lady needed more people to help her out.
so, you forced your boyfriend of three years to help you out. well, not really forced. mark had the day off from work because it was the day before july 4th and really didn't have any plans for the day. so when mrs. varghese calls you frantically at nine o'clock the previous night, mark offered to come with you.
"we've been together for the past three years and we've been living together for the past one and a half. i lose my girlfriend every monday and thursday evening to kids. i gotta meet the little suckers who've been monopolizing my girlfriend." which was mark's stupid way of saying i love you. let me help you out a little bit. let me be part of your world. maybe in the disney princess way.
and you're a sucker for kids and your boyfriend, even after dating for three years, so you agree and the next day, you're piling into the passenger seat at seven in the morning to teach young children addition and subtraction.
not really how the two of you (mostly mark) were planning on spending on of your rare days off but you could never deny mrs. varghese of anything. especially if it meant more time with the kids.
mark always joked about how you should've become a teacher but as much as you loved the children and the interactions with them, you were not a fan of the underpaying salaries. so you made it a point to become successful in your career and dedicate a percentage of your paycheck to donate to the school you volunteered at instead.
which had caused some struggles when you first moved in with mark, given that it was only the two of you rather than you living with three of your friends and your share of the rent went higher. but you figured it out and mark definitely wasn't the type of person to hold it over your head that you weren't able to pay your full share of rent for the first two months.
because that's just who he was. he would cover for you, covering up all of the little parts of yourself that you didn't like. and you would help him see that those blemishes he thought he had were just things that made him more lovable to you.
so when mark steps into the little school and immediately, kids are swarming to the two of you, trying to find out who the attractive boyfriend was, you're not even surprised. mark had a natural, comforting air about him (not to mention the fact that the kids were overly invested in your personal life) that made people want to draw to him like moths to a flame.
in fact, he's so overwhelmed by the love that the kids are showing him, he's still hovering around the door awkwardly, semi-bowing to mrs. varghese, who's watching him with amusement.
"can i come inside?" mark asks, trying to take a step forward while not hurting any little kids. you snort at his awkward shuffle before clapping your hands together, taking it upon yourself to relieve your poor boyfriend from the possibility of death by enthusiastic children.
"can you or may you?" mrs. varghese says with a humorous smile and mark's eyebrows furrow as he contemplates the question. the kids are slowly making their way over to you, where you're starting to distribute fruit pouches as a morning snack and mark finally feels as though he's only carrying his own body weight - as opposed to ten other children's.
"it was 'can i' at first but now i think it's more of a 'may i'. mrs. varghese, i presume?" mark says, extending his hand for the old lady to shake. she just looks at it strangely before gathering mark in a tight, bone-crushing hug.
for such a frail old lady, she had a lot of strength.
"get out of here with those manners. y/n's told me a lot about. and anyone in y/n's corner is family here, alright?" mrs. varghese says, and mark has to blink furiously to push back the tears, although he can't really tell why her words are hitting him so hard.
"thanks."
you mean that?
mark was really easy to love. that's just the type of person he was. in everyone else's eyes, he was a good guy who just always tried to be better at the things he was already incredibly good at. he was always polite with strangers, babies cooed at him, and was the type to be the person to start a 'pay-it-forward' queue whenever he could afford to do so.
and for all of his perfectness, mark was a very flawed man. he was a little bit of a miser - he hated to spend money on himself, even if he would splurge a little more on you. he was a little bit on the insecure side, and no matter how many times you told him that you loved him all the more for his quirks, he still got down about it. mark was also really bad at communication when things made him upset. he was just so easy-going that he would let the smaller things accumulate and build until he's practically bursting.
and mark was kinda mean when he got angry.
he would never hurt you, of course. mark didn't think he could ever live with himself if he knew that he had laid a hand on anyone - but you in particular. and he really, really was trying to work on his communication skills so that he wouldn't let it build and then get so angry.
but when mark got angry, he seemed to just turn into a different person. it had only happened once in your relationship before, almost right after you had moved in together
it was about something incredibly stupid but the tension had been building for a while prior to that. technically, before you moved in, the apartment had been mark and one of his friend's, johnny seo from school, before johnny had moved out to move in with his own girlfriend. and mark and johnny weren't exactly...the cleanest people. you didn't really mind the mess but soon it turned into an unhealthy balance of mark leaving things around the house and you having to clean up after him.
not to mention that a lot changes when a couple moves in together. naturally, tensions were running a little high. for all your cleanliness, you had a really bad habit of leaving unfinished meals in the fridge until they went bad and started to smell, which made mark upset because that was a waste of a valuable meal. and so on and so forth.
one day, the tensions just burst and the two of you ended up in a screaming match going back and forth and back and forth about cleanliness and not eating properly and soon, it escalated from a conversation about living together to being together in the first place.
mark regretted it almost immediately, cursing himself out when he saw you just completely shut down in front of his eyes. he knew his anger got the best of him sometimes, and when he was in the moment, all he could think about was winning the argument, no matter what he needed to say to win.
that had been the worst fight you've ever had. after that fight, you got a lot better about portioning your food to eliminate leftovers and mark made a more conscious effort to clean up. you also started talking more to each other about what things did or didn't make you happy.
but even as mark was getting better at communicating with you, he still didn't know how to raise up issues with you. usually, you would tell mark what you were up to and then you would naturally ask him yourself if he was comfortable with what you were doing. he would then reply with a simple yes or no with an explanation and that would be the end of that. he always hesitated to raise up an issue with you though. he didn't want you to think that he was trying to control your life or be one of those possessive boyfriends.
one day, though, you were out clubbing with your friends (your friend had recently broken up with her fiancé and she really needed her girlfriends) and you had come home pretty late. mark had stayed up, watching a movie (barely), worried about you making it home safely because he knew that your friends were prone to trying to get you as wasted as possible.
mark never told you explicitly but you had a feeling that's how he felt. it frustrated you though that he never said anything to you and wait for you to bring it up to him instead. so that night, you decided to drink a little more than usual (but not as much as they tried to make you drink) so that you could finally, finally get mark to talk to you about his issues.
really, for your behavior, you were expecting to have a round two of what had happened when you first moved in with him. you were imagining a screaming match like no other but instead, mark just looks at you, sighs, and pulls you into a hug when you come stumbling through the door. confused, you begin to pull away, but mark just continues to hold you tight.
"i was so worried that you might not get home safe. and i promise we'll have a proper conversation about this when you're sober in the morning but i love you so much and...let's just talk about this in the morning, okay?" mark mumbles into your hair. you let mark just rock you gently side to side as he clings onto you, completely opposite from the reaction you were expecting.
"mark, i'm not drunk. i just...i'm tired of always being the one to bring up issues. i know that you don't like it when i get drunk outside because you're worried for me but i'd rather you tell me that than me having to guess that by myself. i can make my own decisions and i'm a big independent girl but you're the singular most important person in my life. i would never consciously do something to make you uncomfortable but i make mistakes sometimes. i need you to be open and honest with me when something makes you uncomfortable - because i know it takes a lot to get that far in the first place."
mark steps back to look you in the eyes, his eyes glittering in the shitty lighting of the apartment. "you really mean that?"
"i mean it with my whole heart."
do you promise to love me for the rest of our lives?
mark tries not to trip. he tries really hard to hold in his sneezes, tears, and any other bodily fluids that are inappropriate for the situation. but the nearly fifteen feet from the entrance to the where the officiant is standing is enough to make mark want to puke all over the very expensive carpet you bought for the wedding.
when you first proposed having a backyard wedding, mark was extremely opposed.
a wedding was a once in a lifetime day where you could celebrate your union together with your partner and start the journey to the rest of your lives together. in fact, it was mark, not you, who had the pinterest board (although, to be fair, it wasn't actually a pinterest board and was rather just a folder on his phone of screenshots from pretty tiktoks). he had a vision for the wedding - one that included all members of your friend circle, your families, and your family friends as well.
and well, that wasn't really in the budget. rather than spend 100k on a one day event, you proposed having a backyard wedding that would be significantly more economical and using that 100k to buy a starter home.
"you still get your expensive venue and we have a place to move into. a real home that we can start a family in, mark," you had argued as mark paced back and forth in the small, almost cramped apartment the two of you shared. mark stops when he realizes that it only takes fourteen steps to make it from one side of the room to the other side and back.
and that was the biggest room.
so mark agrees on one condition: there are no lacking traditional elements of the wedding. the both of you worked together on the pain-staking process of planning a wedding that included portions of your culture and his culture to put on the wedding of a lifetime. hopefully the only wedding of your lifetimes.
well, the only wedding for you and mark, at least. but that was about the future and in the present, mark can barely keep from keeling over right there at the beautifully decorated altar that you and your mother had spent hours on.
after so long of being together, mark can't help but feel just so incredibly lucky and overwhelmed to be finally marrying you. you. the person of his dreams. the person who taught him that love isn't always fireworks and euphoric thrills; that love can be huddling together when gas bills were too high to pay and wanting nothing more than to see your significant other when it's been a long day.
love was you and mark really, really can't wait to finally show the world how much he truly loved you.
unsurprisingly, mark almost cries when you finally enter, the picture of the stunning bride as you clutch your father's arm for the last time as y/n l/n instead of y/n lee. mark isn't sure the last time he saw you this nervous but when you meet his eyes, he can feel the rest of the world melt away.
just normal people with enough love to fill the world, is what you say in your vows. just a guy and a girl in the same business class who never travel business class because the two of you are such money minders - something that my soon to be husband has rubbed off on me.
"i will never forget the moment that i knew i was so irrevocably love with mark. it was two days after we fought for the first time. i remember that i was so incredibly angry and scared that that fight would be the end of y/n and mark. that i would have to move out and redownload tinder and just be miserable again for losing one of the best things in my life over a little sock in the wrong place and leftover pizza."
"but two days after we fought, mark came up to me, hugged me and just said, 'we're gonna get through this. i love you too much to not get through this.' and even though everything just seemed so uncertain, the moment mark said that, i knew instantly that we really were going to get through it. because mark had faith in us. and i have faith in us. i love you, mark lee. from the moment you sat down in that ucla business class. i have loved you for so long and i will continue to love you forever."
there isn't a single dry eye in the house (quite literally) after your vow. mark has to clear his throat four or five times before he can start his vows, too afraid that his voice would give out on him in the middle due to how much emotion he was feeling.
"y/n, you asked me one day when we were binging american horror story and pigging out with a family sized bag of chips when i started falling in love with you. and i couldn't answer then so i just said that for as long as i can remember. and that's true - i still don't know when i fell in love with you. i just remember that one day i woke up alone in bed (don't worry mr. l/n, i have never slept in a ten mile radius of your daughter...please don't make her divorce me) and thinking that i would rather wake up next to you instead for the rest of my life."
"but i do know when i realized you were my soulmate. five moments when i knew i found the one. when i asked you if i could sit down next to you in business class. when i asked you to help me with statistics because for being a business major, i'm horrible at math - go figure. when i volunteered with you for the first time with mrs. varghese. mrs. varghese! - where are you - mrs. varghese! may i marry y/n? then i'll be real family."
mrs. varghese blows into a handkerchief unceremoniously, waving mark off through her tears, making the crowd and you laugh a little. mark's smile grows when he sees you laugh and continues on nervously.
"and the fourth moment was the time when you gave me a reality check. when you reminded me that love doesn't work without communication. you've changed me so much for the better, y/n, and i truly could not thank you enough for it. so, i have one last question for you. one last moment for me to know that we're soulmates."
mark takes a deep breath, holding one of your hands in both of his as he looks at you with soft eyes, so filled with love that your breath catches in your throat. "i promise to love you and stand by you for as long as i breathe. can you - can you promise...do you promise to love me for the rest of our lives?"
it seems as though everyone in the venue is holding their breath before you press a sweet kiss to mark's cheek and say the words that everyone has been waiting for.
"i do."
and with those five questions, mark lee had found his soulmate.
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blorbologist · 5 months
Note
“I know you” with Vex and Scanlan?
[Getting to these late oop, busy last couple of days; Send me three words + a pairing/character and I'll write up a scene! Not Perc'ahlia please <3 ]
--
Their usual table looks a lot bigger with only a handful of Vox Machina present. Actually, it looks positively huge thanks to Scanlan being here, which… Scanlan, yeah.
Someone - Percival, probably, given how neatly even each glass is lined up - got them too many drinks before most of the party left. Vex’ahlia works on the last one now. It might be Direheart, though she can’t quite identify all of Whitestone’s liquors yet. Not for lack of trying, especially with how today is going. 
The Meat Man, who is Scanlan, who looks about as un-Scanlan-ish as Scanlan could probably tolerate for this long, is rubbing his sternum. Like he’s having chest pains - which means Scanlan is rubbing his forehead through the illusion? 
Yeah, she’s nursing quite the headache herself. Thank you very much.
“So - tell me,” he’s saying, and he sounds nothing like Scanlan. Except for the moments where he almost does in the same way Kaylie sometimes resembles him. “How could you see it was me?”
Scanlan taps a little rhythm into his glass with a nail. Scanlan, but taking up too much space and yet just as much as he should. Tap-taptap-tap. 
A few more tap-taptap-taps as Vex thinks. Or doesn’t - her mind feels willfully blank, an empty shot glass. Everything meaningful in her gut where it churns, happy and sick at once.
He elaborates: “I mean - this thing has held up to a lot of scrutiny! Including from mages, because they really like their antiques apparently. And I had an audience with J’mon and they didn’t say anything either, and they’re a dragon!” (tap-taptap-tap) “Is the hair not realistic enough? Or the clothes? I really practiced. If there are any weak points to my disguise, you really should let me know.”
The pace of his fingers finally falters. Tap. Tap. Almost like he’s worried. “How could you tell?”
There were so many little tells, which is part of what is making this post-reunion drink so unsettling. How he talked about himself, and the fake-grandiose talk, just all the talking. The gait of a gnome in legs far too long for him. That big grin made just Scanlan’s size that fit this face just right, but not right enough. 
She does not say any of that. Maybe because, who fucking knows, he might do this again. And she might need to use these tricks again.
“Well, darling.” Vex’ahlia drowns her drink (her own nails go tink) and throws it back with deliberate nonchalance. Scanlan surely sees through it just as she saw through him. “I know you. So.”
“We all do,” Vax’ildan interjects at her shoulder. 
Fuck! When did he vanish? How long has he been back? She realizes she’s decently tipsy when she actually gives him the satisfaction of jumping. 
“You fuck!”
Vax grins, clapping her on the shoulder. “Barkeep gave me a bottle so we’d leave and stop freaking out her waitstaff with all the day drinking.” His eyes flit towards Scanlan, who was regarding them warmly. Like he missed this. The gnome-but-not deflates as Vax says, “Oy, Scanlan. Mind if Stubby and I just have a drink, us two?”
“Of course not. The hugging was getting a bit much.” Like he could make them stay, in her city.
Which reminds her -
“I’m glad he’s back,” Vax says quietly as the door swings shut behind them. “So glad. But - gods, what’s with all the fucking lies?”
Vex’ahlia smiles weakly. “I know, right?”
Tap-taptap-tap go her nails on her finger, where a ring would rest.
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wardenparker · 1 year
Text
Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 12
Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​
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When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.    
Rating: Mature! 18+   Word Count: 17.1k   Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Anxiety, accidental hurt, panic attack (symptoms based on my own personal experiences), intrusive/racing thoughts, physical symptoms of anxiety, hurt/comfort. *Author chooses not to disclose all warnings so as not to spoil a plot point! It has been spoiled in the tags if you would rather know ahead of time!* Summary: An impromptu trip with the girls leads to a lightbulb moment that you wish had never come.  Notes: And you guys thought everything was smooth sailing after the proposal? Oh no...we can’t have that...
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue
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It was something of a joke the first time it got brought up. One night long after dinner service was over when you and Jack had Sophia and Tex over for drinks. You had sat out on the back porch refilling your glasses and chatting about weddings when Tex randomly asked a question.
“Ain’t there a tv show for that? For buyin’ wedding dresses?”
“You mean Say Yes to the Dress?” You had asked, laughing and leaning into Jack’s side. It had been almost the only thing you watched with your sister for months when she was engaged. “Yeah. Why, do you want to watch it?”
“Naw.” He has shaken his head pensively. “Y’all should be on it.” You had laughed. All four of you. Delighted by the silly idea of you and Sophia being on TV together. It had seemed like an idea that came and went like summer breeze. Two whole weeks ago and while you’d fantasized a little, you hadn’t brought it up again. It hasn’t been brought up at all before today.
******
When Sophia blows into a building, people know it. Her tendency to throw the doors open and yell seemingly fits right in with the Statesman group far better than she ever had with Kingsman. So when she bursts through the double door leading to your kitchen, no one on your staff even bats an eye. “Pack your bags, we are getting on the plane!” She squeals, nearly giddy with excitement.
The sound of banging doors hasn't bothered you in your entire life, considering you grew up with noisy siblings, so you are perfectly leaned over a soufflé plate to put the finishing touches on its presentation when Sophia appears in a tornado of activity. "Oh yeah?" You ask, raising an eyebrow that is meant for her but very carefully placing a quenelle of homemade ice cream on the plate to hand off to one of your waitstaff. "Where exactly are we going in the middle of my dinner service?"
“Kleinfield.” She’s smug as she smirks at you and reaches out to pluck a shaving of chocolate off the line to pop into her mouth. “They have a cancelation two days from now and you and I are taking it!”
The spoon you had in your hand promptly clatters to the counter as you stare at her, jaw nearly unhinging from your face in shock. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Would I joke about that?” She gives you a horrified look. “I have Tex’s credit card and need to burn a hole in it!”
“But he—I thought—it was just a joke?” A passing comment from your friend while drinking under the stars. Nothing more. But the look on her face is fully aghast and you shut your mouth for long enough to realize that she’s talking about your day off. “Two days?” You ask, knowing that no, she would never joke about this. As boisterous and excitable and unconventional as Sophia is, she would probably be perfect for Kleinfeld.
“You don’t want to do it?” She asks, knowing that some people talk about doing things and never get the nerve when presented with the opportunity. “It’s okay if you don’t.”
"No, I just...I'm honestly shocked they had an appointment available." The disappointment in Sophia's face is obvious, and you grab a dish towel to wipe your hands on before throwing your arms around her. "Maybe we'll get to be in a background shot of an episode if we linger by a camera long enough."
“Either way, we are going to drink champagne and try on wedding dresses!” The hug rejuvenates her and she’s immediately crushing you in a return embrace. “I want an emerald green Zuhair Murad. Unless I find something I love more.”
"Oh god, you even know what designer you want." If Sophia has faults, preparedness is not one of them. She's always fully informed and ready to go at a moment's notice. "I suppose I should actually look at some designs before we go, shouldn't I?"
“No.” Sophia decides, grinning at you. “Choose whatever dress speaks to you.” She holds up a credit card, sleek and shiny. “I’ve got Whiskey’s card and there’s not a limit.”
"You already went and got his card?" That has you doubled over laughing, so taken aback by her approach and yet you have no idea why. This is who Sophia is. And it's why you love her. The woman is unapologetic about her enthusiasm. "You know I have to work tomorrow, right? And the appointment isn't for two days." Regardless though, it earns her another hug. It might be good to go back to New York for a happy reason...try to form new memories there that have nothing to do with what happened last time...
She pouts at you, clearly wanting to go to New York with her friend now. “Fine but we are spending the entire next three days.” She warns you with a pointed finger. “I need to see the sights.”
"I have a restaurant to run, you know." You just shake your head at her with both hands on her shoulders, barely smothering another laugh and sighing happily. "I'll make it work. Pick out the places you want to see the most and I'll see if my brother is going to be around or if we can crash an event at his art gallery. How does that sound?"
“Perfect! Oh! I asked Diana about coming but she’s insisting she will stay behind and make sure that the restaurant runs smoothly while you are gone.”
"You thought of everything, didn't you?" She always does. It's not as if it's a surprise. "Alright." One more hug and you pull back, shooting her a knowing grin. "Are you staying for supper or should I pack up a to-go order for you to take home to your man?"
“Ohhhhhh dinner.” She moans. “Not having the hour long ‘what do you want for dinner?’ conversation.” She laughs. “Please. Whatever you want to pack up, I’ll buy.”
"The chicken pot pie soup is even better today than usual." And it's one that they haven't tried yet, so you immediately go to pour two to-go containers. "And the biscuits are fresh." You add two of the apple hand pies and a small container of whiskey caramel for good measure, wanting to make sure that they're well fed tonight. "I'll put it on Tex's tab."
“That sounds amazing.” She groans, rolling her eyes. “But everything you make is amazing. I’m just never cooking again.”
"Glad to be of service." The compliment is like a giant fuzzy blanket you can wrap yourself up in, and you hand her the full bag of food with your restaurant's logo on the side. "Now go home and make a list of everything you want to see while we're in New York."
“Don’t tell me that.” Sophia grins and leans in to steal another hug. “Or I’ll plan it like a mission.”
"I can think of worse things." Throwing her a grin, you shoo her toward the door with a laugh. "I'm gonna come by your office before my shift tomorrow and I want to hear at least three ideas, otherwise I'm dragging you to every museum I can possibly think of. Deal?"
“Deal.” Sophia turns back towards you with a grin. “This is going to be great. We are going to have so much fun and the added bonus is that we will drive the boys crazy wondering what we are getting into together.”
"You're the only person in the world who can give Tex a run for his money in the troublemaker department." With one last squeezing hug, you really do have to get back to work. "Go on, Soph. I'll see you tomorrow."
“Bye!” She shouts as she blows out of the restaurant just as eagerly as she came in. You’ve given her more food she hasn’t tried and she’ll be damned if she’s going to let it get cold.
******
Going home to Jack that night is basically falling into a lump on the couch beside him as soon as you walk in the door, but at least you're the happy kind of exhausted. "Good day at work?" You ask, sighing a little as you tuck into his side and steal a sip from his glass on the coffee table.
Jack rolls his eyes slightly. “Alright, but Champ has decided that I need to be tested, make sure I’m up for going back to the field after months away.”
"What kind of test?" It's a fair thing for his boss to insist on, but you can hear the annoyance in Jack's voice.
“Every-damn-thing.” Jack grunts, shaking his head. “Man seems to think I’m getting old. Got me trainin’ with the recruits.”
“I’m sorry I kept you out so long.” You know it’s at least partially because of the trouble you had with each other in the beginning, and you turn your chin to look up at him on the couch. “He’s just doing his job, baby. A boss had to be a boss, even to his best friend.”
“It’s just aggravating.” Jack admits. “The younger group doesn’t mind. But they are in awe.”
“Bask in their admiration then, my love.” That makes you grin, knowing that Jack loves to show off when the opportunity arises. “Have someone other than your fiancée coo over how impressive you are.”
He grumbles under his breath, but it seems to do the trick. Tomorrow’s training not seeming quite so bleak as it has been looking. “Sophia find you?”
“She came by during dinner service.” He seems mollified, and you pick up his hand to kiss his palm before grinning guiltily. “I thought we might talk a little about wedding stuff before she and I leave tomorrow night?”
“What do you want to talk about, sugar?” He had gladly handed over his card to Sophia and told her to make sure you bought whatever you wanted.
"Well...we haven't really planned anything yet." Other than convincing your mother that no, you really can't fit into her wedding dress without major alterations and knowing that he had mentioned a family veil in a conversation ages ago, you've just been too busy with the restaurant to bask in the glow of being engaged. "We haven't even talked about where to have it yet."
“Honestly?” Jack chuckles. “I had anticipated you wantin’ to have the wedding here.”
"Here as in the house, or here as in the Statesman campus?" Either one is fine with you, but you want Jack to be excited for the wedding, too. Just because this will be his second doesn't mean it should be less meaningful.
“I meant here at Statesman.” He corrects. “Or up with your family.” He offers. “It doesn’t matter to me, if I’m honest. As long as you are there and we are happy.” He winks and leans in to press his lips to yours.
"Here at Statesman, then." It's come to mean a hell of a lot to you as a place to live and work anyway, there's no reason not to celebrate it. And your lips twist into a grin that you can't deny at the thought of having the wedding back in New Hampshire. "We threw my sister's wedding at my parents' house. It was so much fucking work, I think they'd be glad to just show up to this one instead of throwing the whole thing."
Jack nods in agreement. “That’ll be a good thing. The whole crew will want to be there.” He warns you with a grin. “It’ll be a big party.”
"A big party, huh? Sounds like fun." It's just teasing, you know it will be. Everyone at Statesman loves Jack, and your extended family will make plenty of fuss. "Do you..." You bite your lip and sit up to actually look him in the eye. "Do you want to do it before or after we go to Montana? I don't mind either way, but I know it's going to be an emotional trip and I don't want you to feel awkward about anything."
“Sugar…” Jack reaches for your hand and he picks it up to kiss the back of it. “I want you to plan this wedding for whenever you want. If we were to do it my way, it would be at the courthouse next week.”
"I mean...we could do that, but you're the one who's gonna tell Sophia that the trip to Kleinfeld is off." You have to bite your lip again, but this time it's to keep from bursting out laughing at the stricken look of worry on his face. Jack clearly does not want to be the one to deliver that news. "I don't mind how long we're engaged, love. I just want us to both be happy. So...since you're being so terribly practical...how about I talk to Diana about what would be the best time once I find my dream dress and find out how long it will take to get? Since I hear those things can take ages to come in."
“That will work for me.” Jack murmurs indulgently. “So you’re plannin’ the weddin’ and I’m plannin’ the honeymoon?” He asks with a teasing grin. He knows you will want his input and he won’t be the type of man to let you take on everything yourself.
“If that’s what you want.” Leaning in to kiss him has you grinning. “I imagine you’ll be choosing someplace where I wear as little as possible?”
“It’s like you know me.” Jack jokes, actually thinking about making one of your dream trips possible on your honeymoon. While time in bed is a must, he also knows you want to see the world.
“I’m happy as long as you’re there.” You promise him. “Just let me know when you pick so I can pack accordingly.”
“Would you prefer Paris or Thailand?” He asks with a smirk. “Was thinking we could do a week in Bangkok and then set ourselves up on an island resort. Or we could do the classics.”
Eyeing him like you think he might be teasing you, you decide to just roll with it and see what he says. "Depends on when the wedding is. If it's winter? Thailand, no contest. But summer? That's Paris."
“Then I guess we better figure out if you want a winter or summer weddin’ then, don’t we?” He chuckles. “Somethin’ to be said for both times of year here.”
"Guess I better talk to Diana, then. And figure out a dress." Leaning in, you steal a small kiss and relax against him again. "You...you had mentioned a veil...a while ago. And I wondered if it might be something that I could...take to New York with me? Or at least see it beforehand? I would hate to pick out a dress that it doesn't look good with when you said it was important to you."
Jack squeezes your hand and gets up with a grunt. “Come on, sugar. The veil is in the safe. Let’s see how it looks on you.”
You set the security system and Jack shuts off the lights on your way upstairs, ready to settle in for the night. The safe is in your bedroom anyway, so there won't be any reason to go back downstairs. "I assume you'd prefer I pick something white?" There's teasing on the tip of your tongue as you climb the stairs together. "I mean...who knows what I could find while Sophia is looking for her green dress."
“Sugar, I want you to pick out whatever catches your eye and makes you feel like a Princess.” He murmurs as he leads you towards the bedroom. “As long as you don’t mind there being a cowboy hat on me and all my groomsmen, we’re good.” He teases.
"I'd be disappointed if you went without." The feeling of his large hand around yours is soothing and grounding so you turn down the hall at the top of the stairs. It's automatic now, having slept in that bed with him so many times even before you were officially moved in. "Have you decided who you're going to ask?"
“Tex is gonna be my best man– if you’re good with it.” He turns and watches you carefully, wanting to make sure that you don’t hide your feelings towards it. “I was kind of hopin’ you might consider Champ officiating?”
"What if we did...couples? Kind of?" The thought is worth chewing over, and you sit down on the bed while he opens the safe. "Champ to officiate and I'll ask Diana to be our planner? Tex and Sophia as best man and maid of honor. Astrid and my brother for your other groomsmen and Gabi and my sister for my other bridesmaids?" It's like a perfect split of your friends, and you had always said that you wanted your siblings to be in your wedding party if you ever found your soulmate. After all – you were in theirs. "Does that sound okay?"
“Anyone else you want to invite?” He asks, punching in the code for the safe and swings it open. He knows exactly where the veil is, packed away in a box for protection and safekeeping. He pulls it out and turns back around to face you. “Friends from before?”
"Maybe a few. But I brought a couple of them in for the restaurant, to be honest. My best friend from culinary school is my front-of-house manager, and my closest friend from the pastry circuit back home is my pastry sous. So...aside from my extended family, most people really are already here." It's something that actually makes you more comfortable than you had realized, and bringing in your friends to help you run your dream restaurant only made it all the better.
Jack nods. “Whoever you want. We can make sure that everyone comes, even if we have to set up huge reception tents outside.”
"Is that it?" The box in his hands is cradled with care, and you know it can't be anything else. There isn't much in the safe besides weaponry and a few valuables, and that box is the only thing you haven't seen yet.
“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to wear it.” Jack offers before he hands you the box. Despite what he had said about this being a family tradition, he wasn’t going to insist on it if you hated it.
"Unless it's a literal tablecloth, I can't imagine disliking it." And even if it were, you would still wear it if it was important to him. He looks nervous as you lift the lid, but the second you reveal the lace to the light you gasp in awe. It's simple and stunning - classic in the way the scalloped lace at the edges is full of beautifully woven flowers that ease into the body of the veil to give way to simplicity. When you lift it out you can see that it has an attached clip, encrusted with beautiful, crystal-clear rhinestones. "Jack..." You look up at him on the verge of another gasp. "It's gorgeous."
“You like it?” He asks, shuffling slightly and wondering if you are just saying that. He had family pictures going back generations with this veil and if you decided you didn’t want it, he would be disappointed but understand.
"I love it." You're practically in tears over it, and immediately stand up from the bed to go in front of the mirror and get an idea of what it would look like in your hair. The gold and rhinestone clip and floral lace are giving you ideas that you never would have imagined for yourself. "I'm going to pick something simple for a dress." Whether you're telling yourself or him is up for debate. "So this can be the center piece." Without having any family at all to invite, it's the perfect way to still have them with him at the wedding.
“It looks gorgeous on you, sugar.” Jack swallows, not wanting to compare you to his late wife, but you both look like angels wearing the family veil. It’s been a long time since he’s even looked at it. “Probably needs to be cleaned. But I’ve kept it as safe as I could.”
"I'll ask Diana. Something tells me that she will know a place that can handle something this delicate." It's silly, but you really don't want to take it off so quickly. But he's right, it's an heirloom and an antique, and should be handled with care. "I'm honoured that you want me to wear it, honey. It's beautiful, and a beautiful memory to have."
“I will admit.” He reaches out and touches the lace. “I was hopin’ you’d want to wear it.”
"I absolutely do." Leaning over a little, you leave a kiss brushed on his cheek and rub his arm gently. "I'm going to take some pictures of it, if that's okay with you? I don't want to risk something happening to it on the trip. It's more delicate that I had imagined."
“No, you take it with you.” Jack insists. “It’s a lot tougher than it appears. It’s been through more than most family heirlooms.”
“I’ll pack it up in something safe and padded,” you promise, already trying to think of your laptop case will fit the bill. Either way, you carefully take the clip out of your hair and wrap your arms around him as soon as the veil is back in its box. “I’m glad we have something of your family’s for the wedding.” You wish you could do more than that - find some way to have them there - but some things are beyond even your determined reach.
“She woulda liked you.” Jack admits in a quiet voice. “Woulda boxed my damn ears for how I treated you, but if there was some way for you two to be in the same time, she woulda joked about the two of you runnin’ me ragged.”
"If there was some way for us to be in the same time, I know she and I would have been friends." Though you don't really know how you know it, all of the things you've ever learned about Abigail Daniels all add up to the kind of person you would have loved to be friends with. "She'd give me shit about the whole thing with Tex, and she'd love Sophia to death just like I do. And..." You sit down on the bed with him again and pick Jack's hand up in both of yours. "And I hope that sometimes I remind you of her. Even a little bit. And that sometimes you're just like that cook from Boston."
“That might be what scared me the fucking most.” Jack whispers quietly. “You do remind me of her. That same spirit. Caring nature.” He lifts your joined hands and puts your arms around his shoulders. “But I love you. For you.”
"I love you, too, Jack Daniels." It always makes you smile, the way the sentence rolls off your tongue so naturally and makes him blush, pushing that lone dimple up into the meat of his cheek. "But I hope you know that giving Sophia your credit card means she is gonna make sure I come home with the most expensive wedding dress New York City has to offer."
“It’s why I gave it to her.” He pouts at you playfully. “You either wouldn’t have accepted it or resolved to spend as little as possible on it.” He grumbles, unsure of why you disbelieve the fact that he can afford to spoil you. “She’s under orders to have them remove the price tags from the gowns before you try them on.”
"Tex is convinced they're going to put us on camera." Later in the night he had texted you to thank you for dinner and excitedly gushed about how he was dead certain that if two ravishing ladies such as yourself walked up into that salon with fancy fiancés and unlimited budgets, they would be fools not to put you on the show. "I don't think it works like that, but I didn't want to dash his dreams."
“Hardheaded fool.” Jack shakes his head and sighs. “Sophia can’t be on the show.” He explains softly. “At least not featured. She’s an active agent.”
"She's the most special thing to him in the world and he likes to dream about it. It's sweet." His exasperation is endearing - brotherly, really - and you grin. "He's sappy and in looooove."
“Yeah. He is a sap.” Never one to turn down a chance to insult Tex good-naturedly, he chuckles. “He’s gonna cry when he gets the bill for her dress.”
"She's going to look spectacular." You know that without hesitation. Even if she weren't a statuesque beauty to begin with, her assuredness and vivacity would make her a knock-out no matter what. "It'll be the most unconventional wedding dress you've ever seen."
“The boy said she was wantin’ a green weddin’ dress.” He hums, looking at you curiously. “Are you thinkin’ something along the same lines or traditional?”
"I think the wildest I'll get is a flower pattern or something in the fabric. No colors or anything over the top for me." Somehow you have a feeling that Jack wouldn't say a word if you wanted to be untraditional, but he's hoping for white in his heart. And honestly? You never imagined anything but white on your own anyway. Maybe ivory - but that is hardly a stretch of the imagination. "My mom and my sister had these very elaborate dresses with lace and rhinestones and bows and stuff and I just...I don't know. I think I want to do something simple. And definitely something white."
“Simple is good.” Jack slides his hands around your waist and pulls you closer. “Simple lets the gorgeous bride shine. Instead of just looking at the dress, they will be lookin’ at you, sugar. Envious and wonderin’ how the fuck I got so lucky.”
Your immediate impulse is to protest that you’re the lucky one in this situation, but you know you’ll just end up going back and forth flattering each other. “We’re both lucky,” you insist, leaning forward to press your lips to his.
He can concede that, smirking slightly against your lips. Tilting his head and sliding his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss and groans when you immediately respond. The way Jack kisses you will never cease to thrill you. Reverent and wanting but always playful. It makes you smile into the kiss and ring your arms around his neck to pull him in closer. “I’m gonna miss you while I'm in the city.”
He frowns slightly and pulls you closer. “I’m going to miss you too, sugar.” He admits. He’s worried. Worried that you might not react to being in the city where you were tortured, but he’s not going to bring it up. If you aren’t thinking about it, he doesn’t want to put it in your mind. “But you will have a lot of fun with Sophia. You two are gettin’ along good.”
“She’s great.” You tilt your chin back to kiss the tip of his nose and smile, trying to wipe the frown off of his face. “And I know I’ll be safe with her.” It’s not as if you hadn’t thought about where you’re going. But you can’t exactly shun the city where your own brother lives for the rest of your life.
“You will be.” Jack looks down into your eyes seriously. “Please wear the bracelet and your earrings?” He begs softly.
“Cross my heart.” You nod earnestly, pressing another kiss to his lips. “And if I never go to Brooklyn again it’ll be too soon.”
He hums, tightening his grip on you slightly. “I would offer to come but I think there’s some rule about seeing the dress.”
"There's a very big rule about it, and I want you to be surprised." Although you can't deny that you always feel safer with him around, you know that Sophia will be able to take care of anything that comes up. If anything does at all, which it shouldn't now that Jack had taken care of the Rollins boys. "Unless...maybe Astrid could come with us? If she wanted to, and Gabi was okay with it? Then I'd have two of the baddest ass women I know looking out for me and you might feel a little calmer?"
“You take whoever you need to, sugar.” It’s sweet that you want to calm him down but he will always feel a little anxious when you aren’t in his sight. He’s already come to terms with that fact.
"It'll all be fine." You assure him, solidly reminding yourself of it as well. "We'll both be a little unsettled but I'll be fine with Sophia. And I'll wear my bracelet and my earrings so you can watch my little tracker dot circle around the dress shop a bunch of times and grin about it."
“I think you’ll find your dress in under an hour.” Jack predicts.
"You want to be more specific?" The idea of a little bet is intriguing to you and you pull apart from him to start undressing for bed. "Make a wager, maybe?"
“You know what you like and what you don’t.” Jack explains. “Even if you don’t have any particular style in mind before you go in, I wager an extra week on our honeymoon that you find your dress within an hour.”
"So if you're right, we add an extra week to the honeymoon." Tossing your socks in the laundry basket, the t-shirt you were wearing joins it next. "If it takes longer than that, which I think it will because I have no clue what I'm looking for other than 'not what my mother or sister wore', then..." You think through it, trying to think if there's anything you've wanted that he has ever said no to. Which of course, there isn't, so you go for something silly instead. "Then you and I are going to take an extremely silly engagement trip somewhere. Disney levels of silly."
Jack chuckles, knowing that it would seem extremely silly, but it would be worth it. “You’re on, sugar.” He hums happily, watching as you strip down and he starts to unbuckle his belt. “It’ll be great having you on the honeymoon for an extra week, but—” He points at you playfully and wags his finger. “You can only call to check in on your restaurant once a day.”
"Twice." You immediately pop up, turning to throw him a pout in protest. After all, pouting topless has never steered you wrong before - even if you're a little too anxious tonight to be thinking about sex. For the last several days, actually. "Once at the beginning of business and once toward the end of the night."
“One call, one text.” Jack haggles with you, smirking slightly although his eyes are squarely centering on your tits at the moment. Not sure if he’s smirking at the conversation or at the sight of your beautiful breasts.
"One call and one text. I can deal with that." You'll conspire with your sous chef later to communicate far more than that, but that's for later. "See something you like, cowboy?" It does make you smile, even though you're currently digging into the dresser to pull out an oversized t-shirt to sleep in.
“You can’t expect to pull out your tits and not have me stare at them.” He huffs dramatically, although he’s noting that you are already putting clothes back on, the universal signal for ‘not tonight’. To be fair, there has been a lot of sex and he doesn’t care if you want to have a rest. Instead of stripping down completely, he leaves his boxers on as he pulls back the covers.
"You're always allowed to stare at them, babe. Just like I'm always allowed to stare at your ass." Grateful that he doesn't seem to be fiercely ready for sex tonight, you crawl into bed beside him and snuggle up tight.
Curling his arms around you and pulling you into his chest, Jack presses his lips to your forehead. You seem perfectly content to let tonight be a snuggly affair and he’s perfectly okay when that, sighing softly at your warmth against his chest. The beating of your heart that he can just barely hear. “It’s a good thing you like it, cause it’s barely there. Better narrow your eyes to see it.”
“I’m gonna have to get a very powerful glasses prescription from Astrid,” you joke, giggling when you look up at him in bed and he frowns dramatically in response.
Jack reaches between you and pinches your nipple. “Brat.”
“Ow.” You’re laughing until you’re not, confused as to why the normally playful gesture hurts tonight. Jack must have accidentally pinched harder than usual. “Now I’m a pouty brat.”
“Shit, sugar.” He goes to rub your breasts to apologize but you twist away. Instead he strokes your back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He promises, feeling guilty for being too rough. He must have pinched harder than normal.
“S’ok.” You shrug, but also shrug out of his touch, slipping down beside him with a soft smile. “Kisses make things better, ya know.”
“I’ll give you as many kisses as you want.” He keeps his hands away from your chest, settling them on your sides as you lean in so he can kiss you.
“Sounds perfect to me.” Determined not to let your nerves about going to New York seep in, you just hope you get a good night’s sleep tonight. You’ve been restless lately – who knows why.
“Let’s get some sleep, sugar.” Jack suggests, unwinding one arm from around you so he can turn off the light. “You’ve got some big weddin’ decisions to be makin’.”
******
When you actually depart for New York it's early in the morning two days later, and you and Sophia have Gabi along with you for the trip. The idea of inviting Astrid was well-meaning for Jack's comfort, but since both of you had actually planned on asking Gabi to be your bridesmaid individually you had decided to make this trip a sort of event. The three of you sit over breakfast on the Statesman jet, talking over what Sophia wants to see and all the little things that you think you might look for in a dress or for your weddings. It's a calm flight, all things considered, but you still find yourself picking at your breakfast and wishing your upset stomach would subside.
“Are you good?” Gabi reaches out and touches your elbow. “I know the food isn’t as good as yours, but it’s not worth shredding the bagel.” She teases with a grin.
"I felt kind of off yesterday, too." You admit, looking between your friends with a sheepish expression. "I think I'm nervous."
“It’s okay to be nervous.” She promises. “I kept choking on my own spit the day Astrid and I got married. Broke out in hives.”
"Oh god..." As comforting as it is to know that even the happiest couples you know had plenty of wedding nerves, that just makes you groan in the moment. "Don't tell me that. Tell me everything's going to work out and the stuff that goes wrong will be little and unimportant and we'll laugh about it later."
“Everything turned out amazing.” She assures you with a smile that can only be from a person still completely besotted with their soulmate. “One of the best days of my life. And it will be yours as well.”
"Gabi's official role as bridesmaid for both of us is to be the calm one." Sophia jokes, sitting back at the table in the belly of the jet with her hands wrapped around her iced coffee. "Which reminds me," she grins, eyes flashing mischief at you before focusing on Gabi. "Hen parties. What did you and Ginger do?"
Gabi snorts and shakes her head. “Uhhhh….” Her grin is devilish and she shrugs. “We went to a male strip club.” She admits with a cackle.
"Seriously?" You almost do a spit take of your herbal tea, which would not help your stomach in the least.
“What?” She gives a shrug of her shoulders as if it was nothing surprising. “Just because we are desperately in love doesn’t mean we don’t like to look at dick.” She huffs playfully, dropping her voice on ‘dick’.
"So you like to look but don't want to touch men?" Human sexuality is such a fucking spectrum that you typically don't ask questions, but now you're curious. Plus, it's probably the first time you've ever seen Gabi blush. Ever.
“Ummm….” She shrugs again and gestures uselessly with her hands. “All of our kids were, uh, conceived naturally. So sometimes we do like to touch.”
"So..." This is breakthrough information that has you sitting up in your chair, practically giggling in delight. "Jack just...assumed you're a lesbian and no one ever corrected him? Because he definitely thinks you're a lesbian."
“To be fair, we are in a committed relationship and don’t really talk about anybody before finding each other.” Gabi defends lightly. “And we were very discreet with the fathers of our kids.” She giggles. “Plus, if Jack knew, he might have volunteered to get one of us pregnant and while I would have gone for it….Astrid would have worried it would affect their work relationship.”
"He absolutely would have volunteered." And rather than making you feel awkward in any way, you can absolutely laugh about it. "Well it seems I learned something about my friends today!”
Gabi shrugs and smirks. “So don’t feel bad about wanting a male dancer for my sake!” She jokes. “I’ll be upfront since it’s been a while.”
“Oh!” Shrinking back in your seat a little, you shake your head and laugh nervously. “I wasn’t planning on having a bachelorette party. No dancers or strippers or whatever for me.”
“What?” Gabi immediately shakes her head. “You are having a bachelorette party. Even if it’s just a spa thing with the girls.”
“No one’s saying we’re dragging you to Vegas for a Magic Mike show and endless rounds of cocktails by the pool.” Sophia waggles her eyebrows. “Although that does sound grand.”
“That’s what we’ll do for you, then.” That kind of party is much more styled to Sophia’s outgoing personality, and you’re definitely more up to planning something like that than being the focus of it. “Mine will be the low key version of things.”
Gabi nods. “Noted. Sophia wants naked men, you want pedicures.” She teases. “But you will stuff some dollar bills in a g-string if given the opportunity?”
“I promise to stuff at least two bills into two separate g-strings.” You snort, shaking your head at the very silly bargain.
“At least.” Gabi agrees with a grin. “Who knows, maybe Astrid and I will have the motivation to start looking for another donor for baby number three.”
“Your third baby donor and my brother’s second husband,” you half-joke, knowing full well it’s only half. If your brother knew you were going to a strip club he’d be there in a heartbeat. Sophia cackles at that, gleefully enjoying the image it brings to mind, and you snort a laugh that brings the whole table into a fit of giggles.
“So.” Gabi leans in and grins. “A little birdy told me that you and Jack have a little wager.” She hums. “I am to act as timekeeper.”
“Oh god.” Despite your embarrassed laughter, you do sit up and reach for your tea. “If I find a dress in under an hour, he’s adding an extra week to our honeymoon. If it takes over an hour, I get to be treated to a silly little engagement trip. He’s convinced I’m going to find one in no time.”
“So you win either way.” Sophia looks impressed, sore that she hadn’t come up with something like that with Tex. “Bravo.”
You shrug, knowing the compromise is really just a win for both of you, and it’s really just about when to have an extra week of vacation. “I know it’s going to take me forever, so you two will have to help me come up with someplace extraordinarily silly for him to take me.”
“Knotts Berry Farm.” Sophia immediately pipes up. “Or Disney World. And make him wear the ears!”
“If I bring that man to Disney World, I’m dressing him up like Woody and absolutely no one can stop me.” It would certainly qualify as silly, and your beloved cowboy soulmate would undoubtedly have you dressed up in something equally silly the next day as revenge. “And I would take so many videos.”
“You would have to!” Gabi laughs at the mental image and shakes her head. “There’s a snake in my boot!” Sophia cries out in an exaggerated imitation of Jack’s voice.
“Excuse me, ladies.” The flight attendant that welcomed you all on board and set out your breakfast comes over with a smile, having clearly recognized the impression Sophia was doing. “We’ll be landing shortly. If you wouldn’t mind buckling in, I’ll just clear this away. You’ll be on the ground in twenty minutes or less.”
Sophia looks giddy as the plane starts to descend, looking out the windows although the clouds still cover up the view. “Thank you for coming.” She says suddenly. “I am excited for this.”
“You made this happen.” Reaching over to hold her hand tightly, the way she grips yours back eagerly is full of excitement and anticipation. “We’re glad to be here for the ride. And I am also very excited about this appointment.”
“I am just here for the free champagne.” Gabi teases, honored that both women would include her in such a big event. Even better, she gets a mini vacation that is sure to rejuvenate her.
******
The ride from the airport to Kleinfeld is animated, with all three of you mashed into the backseat of the Statesman SUV that came to pick you up at the private airstrip. Apparently, having three agency soulmates fly into the city for a few days landed you some privileges, especially since Sophia is an active agent - and the best perk might actually be having a driver at your disposal.
“So Sophia already has an idea of what she wants. What are you thinking?” Gabi asks. “I know you have Jack’s family’s veil with you.”
“Yes, I do. And it’s non negotiable. If the dress doesn’t compliment the veil, it’s not the one.” The tote bag you’re carrying today holds any number of things, but your laptop case containing that veil is the most precious by far. “I just want something simple. As vague as that is.”
“Simple can always be wonderful.” The only married woman in the group insists. “Especially when on such a gorgeous woman.”
“Flatterer.” A sly grin in Gabi’s direction makes both of you laugh, and you reach for the front door of the bridal salon with a sharp intake of nervous breath. “Okay, ladies. Here we go!”
“Reservation is under my name.” Sophia turns towards you two before a woman in a tailored pantsuit walks up to the group. “Hello.” She watches as the woman seems surprised by the accent and smiles. “We have a reservation. Andrews.”
"Of course. Welcome!" The perfectly coiffed platinum blonde smiles broadly and waves you all over to the desk. "My name is Ellie, and I'm actually your consultant today so this was perfect timing to run into each other." She laughs, but instead of being put-on or polite, she sounds genuinely amused as she glances down at the computer behind the counter and back up again. "Now this is a double appointment, right? You, Sophia...and...?"
"And me." You put out your hand out to her and find yourself smiling in mirror to the woman – Ellie is one of the consultants frequently featured on the show but you would be hard pressed to actually say anything. She probably gets enough of that every single day from other brides.
“I already know what I am looking for.” Sophia announces, motioning towards you. “She is the one who isn’t quite sure what she is looking for. Although she has brought a family heirloom veil from the groom’s family that she wants to use.”
"Oh wow." Ellie looks suitably impressed and waves the three of you toward the belly of the salon. "Well let's go and get you ladies set up, and we can talk a little about what we're looking for and what our budgets look like." She moves through the space with ease and the three of you follow easily until you're shown to a soft, blue loveseat in one corner of the salon. "Since we have two brides trying things on I have a seat here for our third friend, and two pedestals for trying things on. But for now," she grins and pulls up an extra chair. "Let's have a little chat. Fiancés, weddings, budgets, all that good stuff."
“Budget is no concern.” Sophia hoots, pulling out Jack’s card. “Her fiancé is the CEO of Statesman distillery.”
"And hers," you side eye Sophia with nothing but love. "Is Head of Security." Tequila's return Stateside and good work at Kingsman had come with a step up in his civilian job title, much to his delight. It corresponded directly with his accolades as a senior agent. "They're best friends, and close with our friend Gabi's wife. Who is also a department head at Statesman. We're a big work family. But, um...yeah. Our fiancés are footing the bill, and they said no budget."
"My goodness." It's pretty clear Ellie wants to swear but she's too professional and she nods along with what you're saying. "So let's talk weddings, then? And fiancés? Sophia, you said you already know what you're looking for so why don't you tell me a little about everything?"
“I am not traditional.” She flashes a sardonic smile. “Trying to throw off my Britishness.” She jokes, you and Gabi laughing. “My fiancé is a huge cowboy and his engagement ring for me is a good indicator of our whimsy. I have decided I would like an emerald green wedding dress and my bridesmaids will wear white tea length gowns. Emerald green accents.”
"Okay!" Ellie nods, obviously a little thrown off by that idea but ultimately undeterred. "We don't have a lot in the salon in green, but what I can do is pull dresses that I know the designers are willing to do in colours and show you a fabric sample of what that colour would look like. How does that sound to you?" If it isn't satisfying to this bride Ellie will have to pull out her Hail Mary very early in this appointment.
“I was hoping for a Zuhair Murad gown?” Sophia suggests. “If that’s possible?”
"It's definitely possible." The excitable blonde nods her head and looks around the group of the three of you conspiratorially. "He's actually here today. We have a trunk show of his gowns going on this week and he's in store to meet with brides and consult on some things. I definitely think it would be worth bringing him into this appointment so that you can get that emerald color you want. His coloured gowns are stunning."
“Are you serious?” Sophia looks positively star struck and she can’t nod quick enough. For her, the designer is the entire reason she had wanted to come here.
"In that case." Ellie's eyes flash and she turns to you with a grin. "Let's talk about you, my dear. What are you looking for? What kind of wedding are we thinking of having?"
"Our situations are very similar in most ways, but in some ways we're the total opposite of each other." You explain, laughing a little when Sophia shrugs unapologetically. "We're both marrying Statesman execs, both having our wedding on the Statesman campus. I think we're both going for a sort of elegant Southern vibe. But where Soph is vibrant and extroverted and more of a party girl, I'm definitely looking for something simple and classic. My worry, though, is that everything simple is going to end up being a little boring."
“Your friend said the veil was going to be a part of your look. May I see it?” She asks, eager to see what kind of style the veil is designed in.
"The veil is an heirloom." Carefully digging into your tote, you unzip the case you have it in and lift out the antique lace to show the consultant. "This is the only thing that is non-negotiable. I could walk out of here with the most expensive and elaborate dress you sell even though I came in wanting simple and chic, but it has to work with this veil. Every bride in my soulmate's family for the last hundred and twelve years has worn it."
“It’s beautiful.” Ellie’s eyes widen and she reaches out to examine the lace. “This is hand sewn.” It is much better quality than most veils brought in that were from the 70s or 80s and the bride's mother wanted them to wear. This piece is timeless. “Simple, you say? This would look magnificent against a satin bridal gown.”
“I’m open to trying anything.” It would be silly to point out that you’re not used to wearing gowns so anything she suggests to try would be new for you. You can’t imagine most women wear an excess of gowns in their lifetime. Some, of course. But not most.
"Do you have any preference for cut?" She asks, eyeing your figure. "I have a selection of gowns that would be gorgeously simple and not clash with the veil but rather work with it to give you a wonderful bridal look."
“I just want to be able to dance,” you tell her with a grin. “He’s an amazing dancer.”
Nodding, she gently lets go of the veil and smiles at the three of you. "I will get you set up with some champagne and then start pulling dresses for you to see." She promises as she stands up. "I feel like you both will find exactly what you want."
It's a few minutes before your consultant returns with a tray of drinks and shows you that your dressing rooms are the ones right beside where you're sitting. She disappears again with an excited grin, headed into the belly of the salon to the stockroom to pull some dresses. It seems like the three of you have barely had a few sips, though, when a tall man with dark features and an easy smile sidles up to your area. "Miss Andrews?" He asks in a thick Middle-Eastern accent, looking to see which one of you answers. "Ellie told me you were interested in one of my colored gowns for your wedding dress."
Sophia’s eyes widen and she is immediately standing, rushing to shake the hand of one of her favorite designers. “Yes.” She gushes happily. “I am in love with your designs.”
“The very highest compliment I could ever receive.” Murad smiles warmly and shakes Sophia’s hand with both of his. “There are a few gowns here that could be dyed. I will help Ellie pull those for you and we will see what you think of them. But,” he flashes her a grin. “If we do not turn up anything here, then we will come up with a design all your own, together.”
“The only thing that I care about is that the dress matches the color of my ring.” Sophia can’t help but grin back at the handsome man.
"A beautiful piece," he praises, letting the emerald catch the light and dance. "Your fiancé has excellent taste."
"Thank you." Sophia beams and twists the ring on her hand. "We were joking that I should have a dress to match and I absolutely fell in love with the idea."
"It is not a joke, it is genius." The designer flashes a grin at Sophia and then at you and Gabi on the plush little loveseat. "Let me see what is here that can be dyed, and I will come back with Ellie to see what you think."
Sophia giggles nervously and nods, turning back towards you and Gabi when he walks away. "Oh my fucking god! I cannot believe I just met him!!!!" She squeals, nearly apoplectic with glee.
"I think that was more than a meet, honey," you wrap a giddy Sophia up in a hug and let her giggle fit ride itself out naturally. "He just offered to custom design your wedding dress if you don't like anything on site."
"Oh god, he did, didn't he?" She's completely awestruck and nearly spills her champagne as she plops down on the cushioned chaise lounger. "I missed that. I just– oh my god, do you think he would find it strange if I invited him to the wedding?"
"I don't know if he would be able to come, but I think it would be a very nice gesture." She's completely overcome with the encounter and you can't help but laugh softly. "How about if I meet my dress's designer too, we'll both invite them. And then we can be weird together?" It's such a silly suggestion, but kind of a sweet one. Like a big thank you for a day that is already so wonderful.
"Maybe he can design something simple for you." She bites her lip and looks around in complete starstruck awe. "I cannot believe I am here. We are here. We are going to be getting married!"
“She’s gonna take off to outer space.” Gabi laughs, carefully extracting Sophia’s glass from her hand while you hug her.
“Can’t say I blame her.” There’s activity all around you, consultants toting dresses and other brides giddily browsing the pieces hanging in the sales floor, and you look around with a sigh. “It’s like bridal Disneyland.”
Gabi snorts and can't deny that. "It is bridal Disney, isn't it?" She hums, amused by the idea. "We need to see about adding a bridal boutique to the Statesman label." She chuckles. "Have it be an all in one wedding venue."
“If we had a bridal label we’d be unstoppable.” The very idea of it makes you grin, as if you don’t have enough on your plate already with the restaurant just opening and the event planning taking off at the same time. “Champ would either throw resources at us or realize he’s created a monster.”
"You don't think that man is aware that he has created a monster?" Gabi asks you, raising a brow even as she grins at you. "He's fully aware."
“Jack’s the one who keeps encouraging me to dream,” you shrug like it means nothing, but it’s honestly one of the more sincere and romantic things he could possibly do. “Champ’s just the facilitator.”
"Maybe one day." Gabi offers, leaning over to tap her glass to yours. "Lord knows our Statesman family is going to be growing."
“Still thinking about baby number three?” She had seemed to glow with the idea after joking about it on the plane, and you could definitely see Gabi and Astrid deciding to give Ricky and Carmen a little brother or sister.
“I kind of am.” She admits with a dreamy smile. “I know Astrid would let me carry the next one, so I just– I want to talk to her about it and see what she thinks.”
"You guys are the cutest parents. I'm sure she'd be excited for it." Aside from your sister and brother-in-law, Gabi and Astrid are the parents of young children that you've spent the most time around and that both makes you ache and anxious all at once. It would be wonderful to have kids, but you have no idea how you would be as a mother or how Jack would respond to the idea of being a father again.
“Are you okay?” Gabi’s soft smile turns concerned as she scooches closer to you. “You suddenly look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
It hit you like a ton of bricks - the horror tinging your realization with fear. When was your last period? "I'm okay." Unfortunately it's a flat out lie, but you just smile and set your champagne glass back on the tray when Ellie reappears with her hands full of gowns. Gabi doesn't need to know. No one needs to know. No one needs to know that you can't remember the date of your period. Getting an IUD had never made them stop completely, only made them dramatically lighter. But it's...it's been months. Shit.
She doesn’t question you any more, but she side eyes you. Wondering if you are feeling nervous about the dress or if it’s something to do with children. “You know, I think Jack will be a wonderful father.” She murmurs reassuringly right as Ellie starts to talk.
"I have a few of our simpler gowns here in a variety of silhouettes so that you can get a better feeling for what style you might like, and we can go from there," she tells you with a happy smile before looking to Sophia. "And you, my lucky friend, Zuhair just pulled a few things from the stockroom. He's right behind me."
She is practically bouncing in her seat, excited, although she turns towards you expectantly. “Are you ready to find your dream dress and have an extra week of honeymoon?” She teases, having fully sided with Jack.
"We'll see." Forcing yourself to paint on a smile, you push out of your seat and follow Ellie into the small dressing room. Everything on the hangers is delicate and focuses on your body instead of obscuring details, and now all you can think of is how you might be pregnant and trying to do the goddamn math on your cycle.
"Do you have one you want to start with?" The bubbly consultant asks, but the best you can do is chew your lip in concern. "How about something classic?" She suggests when you look more worried than excited. "A simple satin ballgown for that princess feeling?"
"Sure." You nod, reminding yourself how, and start to slip out of your jacket. Focus. You need to focus.
Whisking you off towards the changing area, Ellie starts listing off the attributes of the gown in question, making up for your decided lack of questions. Something has changed but it’s not her place to ask.
The first dress you come out in is...large. It's a poofy princess dress if ever there was one, and with the terror that you're now feeling your mind has wandered to thinking about what any of these gowns would look like on a pregnant woman. "Let's see what they think," you suggest, instead of admitting that you don't like it very much. It's too big and you know that a baby bump would only make it worse.
The moment you step outside the little changing area, both women can tell you don’t like it. They each shake their heads. “It’s too…poofy.” Gabi offers politely and Sophia snorts. “You look like a cream puff.”
“Thanks, guys.” The way you roll your eyes at both of them is a half-assed attempt at humor, and you shake your head. “So ballgown is out? No Princess Sugar?” Humor is good, you tell yourself weakly. Humor will help.
“I think something sleek, more fitted, Princess Peach.” Sophia smirks at you with a wink.
“Now, I know who Princess Peach is,” Ellie laughs, helping you down from the pedestal in the gown that has been dubbed too much “But who is Princess Sugar?”
“Sugar is the nickname that Jack – her fiancé – coined for her.” Gabi explains, throwing you a smirk. “Very southern.”
“I own a restaurant.” Is the explanation you give, stumbling over your words like a nervous weirdo. “I was a pastry chef when we met…I make cakes…it’s a whole thing.”
“It’s sappy and adorable.” Sophia flutters her eyelashes dramatically as you disappear, but jumps off the couch immediately a second later as Murad reappears with three enormous dresses for her to try.
“Here are the ones that I think will be best, if you don’t like them, I can sketch a design.” He offers.
Sophia is giddy as she lets herself be swept into the second dressing room while you go to change into your second dress. Gabi can hear her cooing with glee behind the thin wall, but she didn’t miss the way you hadn’t had any light in your eyes at all when you came out in your first dress. Something happened, she just doesn’t know what or how.
“The dress can be dyed if it is not quite what you are imagining and I have taken the liberty of pulling all emerald green fabrics I have.” Murad calls through the curtain as Ellie helps Sophia into the first dress.
“Sounds like you’re in heaven over there,” you call out through the wall between dressing rooms, enjoying the gleeful sound of Sophia’s giggling next door. The second dress that has been pulled for you is a trumpet gown that you would probably have loved if you weren’t feeling a roiling stomach and the weight of the world on your shoulders. Sophia emerges from the dressing room with a strapless gown with all the most beautiful embellishments and a sweetheart neckline to die for, looking like an angel come down to earth. You remind yourself to smile again, not wanting to spoil your friend’s unbridled excitement.
“What do we think?” Sophia asks, biting her lip as she looks in the mirror at her reflection and dying a little inside as she sees herself.
“You look like a dream, honey!” Gabi squeals, sitting up on the sofa with her glass clutched in both hands. “Tex would lose his mind to see you in that dress.”
“Okay, so I love this, but….” She tilts her head and glances at Murad in the mirror. “There was one that was off the shoulder sleeves, right?”
"Are you thinking of the sleeves from that gown on this one?" He tilts his head at her like an artist considering their muse and grins mischievously. "Let me..." The thought trails off as he ducks out of sight, going to grab a veil from the nearest display and manipulating the long length of fabric in his hands. Each end is somehow magically transformed into a small, loose sleeve that hangs off her shoulder like an elegantly fallen strap. It falls just around the middle of her arm and makes the whole thing look positively refined. "Like this, you mean?"
"Yes." She nods, biting her lip as she stares at herself in the mirror. "That is what I am looking for. The way that it sits has always seemed so refined and luxurious to me."
You stand and watch, taking in the way Sophia’s face lights up and tears well up behind her eyes as she talks with the designer and customizes her gown. He shows her the shades of green he could dye the fabric and they coo over the design together, and you really feel like you might be sick as the room spins around you in anxiety instead of happiness. There have been times you’ve been sick lately - days you haven’t eaten because you’ve been sick to your stomach, extra headaches, back aches, cramping. There was the incident two nights ago with your breasts being overly sensitive… How long has it been? Two months? Three?
Gabi just happens to glance over at you to see the absolutely crushed look on your face. Setting her champagne glass down, she quickly stands and crosses the floor to where you are seemingly doing an astrophysics problem in your head and touches your arm lightly. "Honey, what is wrong? What happened?"
“Nothing.” The answer comes far too quickly and far too sharply, and even Ellie looks concerned on your other side, but you can’t just — oh god, you were drinking…you’ve been drinking alcohol this whole time…and so much caffeine… “I’m not feeling great,” you murmur finally, knowing that it’s half-assed but not daring to spoil Sophia’s moment.
"I have some Tylenol in my purse." Gabi offers helpfully. "Do you have a headache?"
“It’s — m-more of a stomach ache.” It’s an aching feeling everywhere of complete dread and fear, but you make yourself smile for Gabi as though it can be brushed off. “It’s okay. I think I’ll just…lay off the liquor until it subsides.” Or for the next six or seven months…
Highly skeptical, Gabi discreetly glances around the boutique to make sure that you haven't seen someone who has spooked you. You look scared, not like you have a stomachache. "Alright, but if you need me to call Astrid, I can. She can run a diagnostic of you in the Statesman truck."
“If it keeps up.” You nod like you would ever agree to that, even though the idea of being hooked up to anything medical on a Statesman vehicle makes your skin crawl with memories from a month ago. And that’s when it hits you - like a freight train coming right at a cartoon character. If something has gone wrong and you are pregnant? It can’t be Jack’s…
"Oooookay." Gabi grabs you as your knees threaten to buckle and she waves Sophia off. "Let's get you out of this dress and into the bathroom, okay?" Astrid has been concerned that memories from a month ago would resurface and cause issues and from the way you look like you are going to puke, that has to be it. "Okay, come on sweetheart. We can manage everything." She promises. "I have a Valium in my purse just in case something like this happened."
“Is that safe?” You ask in earnest, letting Gabi bring you back into the dressing room like you’re on the end of a set of leading strings.
"It's fine." She assures you quietly. "Astrid gave it to me just in case you had problems."
“I’m okay.” Getting out of the confining dress and back into your own clothes will help, so you don’t hesitate when Gabi shuts the door behind you. Your head is spinning too much which makes the room turn on its axis and the feeling of panic in your chest is making everything more urgent and terrifying.
Maybe that Valium isn’t such a bad idea after all — Astrid sent it because you were attacked here, why did you think this would be a good idea? Everything inside and around you is moving so fast that you don’t even realize you’ve dropped to your knees. Quick, sharp breaths are going to have you hyperventilating in no time but you can’t stop them, and the way your skin is crawling makes you want to scratch your skin clean off. You drag your fingernails up your forearms with purpose, and if you didn’t have short nails from decades of culinary work you might actually succeed in tearing yourself apart.
“Let me–” as a mother, Gabi always carries a bottle of water or a juice box in her purse. Grabbing the oversized bag had been a stroke of luck as she starts to rifle through it until she comes up with a small bottle of water. “Here, drink this.” She kneels down beside you and twists the plastic cap off to hold it up to your lips. “It’s okay.”
It’s a small mercy but still a notable one, mostly because you have to stop scratching yourself to hold the bottle. Gabi gently takes your other hand in both of hers, holding onto it to keep you from spiraling even harder as the tears start to fall and you swear you’re going to choke on the water you just swallowed.
“Come on. It’ll be okay. I promise. No one is going to hurt you.” She murmurs softly. “Our driver is an agent. Sophia is here. Say the word and we’ll have Jack here.”
"No!" The panic that you feel has nothing to do with what happened a month ago and everything to do with the position you would be putting Jack in if what you fear is true. "No–no, I mean...that's not necessary. I'm just..." You feel like an absolute nutcase, but you don't know how to tell her that without sounding silly. "I'm just not feeling well."
“Okay.” The best thing she can do for you is to calm you down. Agreeing with you makes you relax so she doesn’t hit the button in her bracelet yet. “Okay, we’ll just take a few deep breaths, sound good?”
"I'm sorry," you curl in on yourself, not having made it out of the sample wedding dress before the panic started, and wish you could make yourself disappear so you wouldn't feel so damn embarrassed.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” Gabi tells you firmly, cupping your face in her hands. “Nothing at all. Do you understand?”
"I don't want to ruin this for Soph." Or ruin life for Sophia. For your friend. The last time you had your period was the week before your cousin's wedding...Isn't there some kind of old wives' tale about being extra fertile after your period? Or is that before? Shit shit shit.
“You won’t, she wants to be here for you too. She and Tex are so happy for you and Jack.” She insists.
"I'm okay," you insist again, despite it obviously being not true. The best you can do right now is force yourself to refocus. Force yourself to function. Pray that Sophia is so wrapped up in picking out her wedding dress that she never notices that anything was wrong with you in the first place.
“Here.” The small pill is offered to you. “Take this. It will help you relax. Short term.”
"I–um– thanks." Still a little shaky, you manage to take the offered medicine and have another sip of water without too much fuss, and breathe deeply as you stare at your knees. Could it be real? Are you really...pregnant?
It’s long minutes before you start to calm down. Your breathing returns to normal and Gabi takes the now empty water bottle and shoves it back into her purse. “You need another drink? I have a juice box.”
"Would you..." You turn to look at Gabi for the first time since this whole thing started, seeing the concern drawn on her face and the determination that you recognize from seeing her take care of her kids. "Would you just tell Sophia I'm okay if she asks? If she didn't notice then I don't want to worry her."
“I– you don’t think Sophia noticed?” She asks, shocked you would think that.
"Why?" It makes your head spin again in a way that jolts your stomach. "How long have we been in here?"
“Not long, but she’s an agent.” She reminds you gently. “And your mood went from happy to nearly frantic in an instant.”
"All the more reason to let her know that I'm okay, then." It's a miracle that you can think straight, if you're honest, but at least your skin has stopped crawling and you didn't do anything to damage the sample dress still clinging to your body. "I'm sure she has her dress sorted out by now. I'll just..." You blow out a breath that you hope sounds encouraging instead of wavering with fresh tears, which is how you feel. "Change out of this one and try the next. Since this one now has...questionable memories."
"It's not your style anyway." Gabi jokes, sending you a small smile as she stands and holds her hands out to you to help you to stand. After you get back to the hotel tonight, she will discreetly call Astrid and let her know that another therapy session would be good for you.
"Thanks, Gabi." You squeeze her hands before letting them go and refocusing yourself on the dresses that are hanging from the bar on the other side of the small dressing room. Thank god you elected not to wear make up today, or you'd probably look like a raccoon right now.
"This one seems more your style." Gabi offers, although you could never tell when the dress is on the hanger. "Do you want me to help you into it?" She asks quietly, willing to step out if you want.
"If I haven't frightened off our consultant, I'm sure she can help." It's less scary to have to face a near stranger with what's going on in your mind. Ellie doesn't know anything about what's happening in your life. She can't read you like a book the way your friends can. And she'll more than likely buy the story that you just aren't feeling well without pressing for more details.
"Okay." Gabi frowns but she is moving toward the door. "I will send her in."
Sophia is sitting on the loveseat in her regular clothes when Gabi comes back out, fidgeting with her sleeves and frowning heavily. "Is she okay?" She asks quietly once their consultant has gone back into the changing room. "She had an episode, didn't she?"
"Yeah." Gabi knew that Sophia would have noticed you. But she's happy that the other agent didn't push her way into the dressing room knowing it would have embarrassed you even more. "I gave her a Valium. Maybe we need to make it an early day?" She suggests softly. "Or maybe she'll be better once she's let the medicine kick in."
“She wants to keep going?” Sophia can’t tell if she’s surprised or not, knowing you to be both stubborn and usually fairly in tune with yourself. “No crazy partying tonight. Maybe a room service and a movie? And a museum tomorrow. She loves museums.” The laundry list of things she wanted to see can wait. Her best friend’s well being is far more important than anything else.
"That sounds like the perfect, low key evening that we need." She nods and bites her lip. "What about you, hun?" She reaches out and touches Sophia's arm. "Did you find something that you like or are you needing to have something designed?"
“We made a few tweaks, but the first dress was nearly perfect.” She keeps her voice respectfully low, but clasps Gabi’s hands eagerly. “It’s going to be beautiful, and one of a kind. I just hope our girl in there isn’t so overwhelmed that she doesn’t get to enjoy this appointment. Or this trip.”
"She's a trooper." Gabi smiles, excited for Sophia. "I know she will find the perfect dress." She prays that whatever is going on with you doesn't spoil the experience for you.
A few minutes later you emerge again with red eyes looking tired but forcing yourself to smile - knowing that today is about more than you. You’re just going to have to make sure you read the return and cancellation policy on this dress very carefully in case the worst happens.
"Oh." The dress is stunningly simple and yet it is completely breathtaking. The way it drapes over your form brings the soft folds of the dress and shimmering of the satin. "It's perfect."
“Yeah?” If you’re honest, you barely noticed anything about the dress you put on. It’s comfortable, sure, and simple. But past that? You couldn’t tell what the silhouette was or anything about the details if you tried. Still, you like that they like it. “Gabi picked it.”
"Yeah, love." Sophia stands and walks over towards you with a soft smile and reaches for the package with Jack's family veil in it. "Let's see if it's as perfect with this as I imagine it will be."
It’s nerve racking to see the veil come out now. You’re scared and trying not to show it, like in the back of your mind you know something is wrong and that it might affect Sophia’s relationship as much as your own. Who the fuck knows what will happen if you turn out to be pregnant with Tex’s baby. It will turn your whole world upside down. And hers. And Jack’s. And Tex’s.
Sophia freezes, trying not to immediately demand to know what is wrong. She knows you will deny anything is wrong. Instead, she moves slowly as she takes the veil out and drapes it over your head.
It is beautiful. You can’t deny that even if you have trouble looking yourself in the eye in the mirror. The low cowl neck of the dress makes room for a necklace and the even lower back keeps the focus on the veil, and on any other day you would be gasping right along with Gabi and tearing up for a good reason instead of a stressful one. “It’s…” your hand drifts to the edges of the veil and you try to banish the question mark of what this dress would look like on a pregnant woman. “It’s beautiful.”
Sophia knows that something is wrong. She can tell, but she's cheerful, trying to be your support. "It is beautiful. I know, I know that you shouldn't be pressured and it's all about what you want, but this is the one." She gushes, fluttering the veil around you. "Jack will lose his mind when he sees you in this dress."
“It’s exactly what I said I wanted.” You won’t deny that, even if you’re barely looking at your reflection. Your eyes just keep going back to your engagement rings over and over again. Thinking of Jack and hoping that you haven’t completely ruined your lives with recklessness.
"Do you– do you not like it?" Sophia asks softly. "Because if you don't, Ellie can pull more dresses. We will find something that you love."
“No, I do.” Thinking as quickly on your feet as you can, you force a smile and touch the edges of the veil again. If this is the only time you’re going to get to wear it, you want to at least appreciate its beauty again. “It will need a good necklace. And you two have to tell me if the back is too low.”
Turning you around, Sophia whistles. "That is a sexy back, love. No, you should show it off and this is the perfect dress to do so." She hums and Gabi jumps up to chime in. "Oh it's just lovely. Perfect. What do you think?" She asks you seriously.
“I think it’s right.” If you were thinking with a clear head right now, you would be in happy tears. It really is exactly what you said you wanted in a dress and you do look great in it, but your mind is just too cloudy at the moment to recognize that. “And I think even Louisville is too cold for this dress to be at a winter wedding.”
"Spring or summer?" Gabi asks, not willing to mention that she has clocked you choosing the dress at fifty-two minutes, thirty-five seconds.
“Spring, I guess.” When you finally look up to find your friends smiling at you, you try not to pull in on yourself self-consciously. “Soph and Tex already called dibs on this summer.”
"A spring wedding." Gabi grins conspiratorially. "That will make Jack happy as a pig in sunshine."
“Engaged for a whole year?” Sophia grins, suspicious but trying to cheer you up from whatever is bothering you. Because you are bothered. “You’ll have plenty of time to plan and dream, mate.”
“I think so.” When you nod it’s slow, but definite. “I think this is it.” They like it. Right now that’s the best thing you have to base a decision on, because there’s no way in hell that you can be objective or make the choice with a clear head.
“Great!” Both women cheer, trying to interject as much enthusiasm into the event as possible. They don’t want Ellie to think anything strange, although Sophia knows she has seen plenty of drama.
"Did we remember to keep the time?" You have no intention of letting Jack know what kind of chaos happened here this morning. None whatsoever. So you turn your mind to things that seem normal. Like the bet.
“Under an hour.” Gabi admits with a shrug. “Although if you have your heart set on that engagement trip…” She breaks off teasingly. “I can be bought for the price of a Manhattan in Manhattan.”
"No...he won, fair and square." It would have taken even less time if you hadn't freaked out, and you're not about to lie to him about things that don't matter. There are too many things that do matter at stake.
“I bet if you give him that Soul Snatcher Three Thousand when you get back and ask him for the engagement trip, the man will dance towards Disney wearing the ears.” Sophia waggles her brows suggestively and barks out a laugh a second later.
“We’re going to Montana in fall,” you tell them both quietly and reach to take the veil out of your hair. You’re going to hang on to every bit of normalcy and every promise as hard as you can right now. “That’s sort of going to be the trip, I think. Though…it won’t be silly. It’ll be good for him.”
“Oh….” Sophia had been told the story, the real story in its entirety and she knows that it will be emotional for both of you. “If you need to talk to someone, I’m here for you.”
“It will be good.” Maybe if you tell yourself that enough times, it will be true. You can hope, at least. “His hometown does a big Labour Day festival every year, so we’re going to go for that.”
“That will be fun.” Gabi smiles. “Something fun to look forward to.”
“I’m going to get out of this so I can buy it,” you announce, hoping you sound excited. “Then we can go celebrate?”
“That sounds good.” Ellie ushers you towards the changing room and Sophia turns towards Gabi. “What are you thinking?”
“She won’t look us in the eyes,” Gabi murmurs sadly. “If I wasn’t convinced that that is the most perfect dress for her, I’d be insisting she wait to buy and we all go do something to distract ourselves.”
“She didn’t get a text, no one called.” Sophia looks around the room of mostly women and frowns. “Do you think something reminded her of the kidnapping?”
“I don’t know what else it would be.” Gabi admits with a sigh. “I gave her the Valium, and I’m going to let Astrid know what happened. But other than that? I’m not sure what to do.”
“All we can do is support her.” Sophia frowns, making a note to text Jack if you still are off kilter by dinner time.
“We’ll get her through it.” It’s as much of a promise to Sophia as it is to you without you even being there.
“Yes we will. And if we need to head back tonight, I will have the plane ready.” Sophia won’t put your mental health at risk. She won’t.
******
Your dress purchased and arrangements made for you to be contacted when it comes in so you can be fitted, Sophia and Murad exchange information to work on her custom made dress, then the three of you pile out onto New York’s streets. “Where to now?” Gabi asks, looping her arm through yours. “Anywhere you want to go.” She tells you.
"Sophia made a list." It's less deflecting than it is just angling to not have to think about much of anything - and that includes decision making. But Sophia isn't having it, and she shakes her head as the three of you pile into the waiting Statesman car. "Anywhere you want to go," she insists, keeping hold of your hand in the backseat. They're a stubborn pair when they agree on something, and you look between them with a sigh. "We could go to a museum?" It's your go to. Museums and food tourism. And right now you can't stomach the idea of food.
“Why don’t we do one of the smaller museums?” Sophia offers. “Near the hotel in case we want to go back and rest?” The unspoken part of it suggests that you might want to go back, to not participate and it gives you an out if you need it.
"I know you guys don't want to be dragged around the Frick Collection or some other intense little art museum." It's sweet that they're trying to be kind after what happened in the dress shop, but you really don't want this trip to be about you and you know at least half of Sophia's list. "Why don't we do Madame Toussad's? Selfies with wax people sounds like a silly as hell way to spend the afternoon."
“Yes!” It sounds like just the type of activity to get you out of your head so both women nod eagerly. “Let’s do that and we can decide what to eat afterwards.” Sophia decides.
“Times Square has tons of places. It will be great.” Gabi agrees, wanting things to go smoothly from here on out.
Each woman flanks you, wanting you to feel protected and surrounded by someone familiar. Each one believing that you are reliving the trauma of the last month. “Maybe we will find some inspiration for your menu.” Sophia encourages.
“We should take Soph someplace absurd and touristy. Super American.” You suggest, sitting back between both women as the car makes its way around Central Park. “Like Red Lobster or Margaritaville levels of absurd.” Silly will help, you decide, sitting on your hands so that they don’t move self consciously to your unchanged stomach. Silly is good.
“Ohhhhh we can get wasted in Margaritaville, right?” She grins. “Like that song?”
You’ll definitely be laying off the booze for the rest of the trip for necessary reasons, but you swallow it and add a smile as you nod. “Absolutely, Soph.”
“Great!” There’s practically nothing a little booze and girl time can’t fix, so she is immediately leaning forward to lower the glass to tell the driver to take you all to the Wax Museum.
******
Madame Toussad’s Wax Museum is plenty busy, full of families and groups of friends out for the same silly distraction that the three of you are. The staged dummies and their scenery providing just enough distraction to have you breathing normally and even laughing a little with your friends.
“This place is wonderful.” Sophia gushes. “Creepy, but wonderful.” She looks around at all the wax figurines. “We should do waxes of the agents.” She laughs.
“Tex would hide his all around the house to scare you.” Gabi snorts, thinking of how much fun the agent has been known to have, acting like an oversized child in some of his time off.
“God he would.” Sophia laughs, shaking her head. “Until I decapitated it and then he would pout.”
“You can’t cut off that beautiful face.” Gabi laughs, posing next to the model of actor Channing Tatum just like he’s Tex. They’re about the same size, so it works. “He’d be such a sad boy.”
“Tex’s ears are a little bigger but I swear they are brothers.” She huffs, stepping closer to examine the figurine of the man who looks just like her fiancé. “All that ridin’ I’ve been doing. Gotta hold onto somethin’.” She drawls, imitating a southern accent.
“Save a horse, ride a cowboy,” Gabi giggles, swinging her hips in an impromptu dance move that makes all three of you laugh. It is, after all, the unofficial Statesman motto.
“Speaking of…” Sophia smirks. “There’s been a lack of complaints around your house early in the mornings the last few days. Have you just decided to wear Jack out at night or did you turn the safe room into your sex room?” She waggles her brows outrageously.
“The restaurant starting up has changed our schedule a little.” You excuse, suddenly hyper focused on a speck of dirt on your hand. “And I’ve been a lot more tired.”
“I’m sure you are.” Sophia nods, reaching out and patting your hand. “Let me know if there’s something I can do. I did work my grandpa’s pub back across the pond.”
“Thanks.” Everyone here knows you’ll never ask. Not only do you have a great staff but you’re stubborn as hell. Still, it’s nice that she offered. “I just want everything to be perfect.”
“Everything is perfect. Have you not read the reviews?” Countless food critics for the area have already been out to try the newest addition to Statesman and each one of them have come away giving rave reviews.
“Then being tired is worth it.” You decide, flashing them both that smile that feels a little more authentic with that encouragement.
“Ohhhh look! There’s Nic Cage!” Gabi squeals, darting over to the next display. “This is– is it a wax figure or does he come and pose everyday?” She giggles, poking the figure’s waxy face.
“It’s his Dorian Gray statue instead of a portrait,” Sophia laughs, dragging you with her to the next display. “If you move the clothes you’d see horrible disfiguration.”
You jump from exhibit to exhibit, Gabi and Sophia making sure that there isn’t a lull in the conversation or jokes being tossed out. Wanting to make sure you don’t have time to think about being upset. By the time you’re through the Creepy But Fun (as you all agreed upon) museum full of uncanny wax people, you’ve calmed down a little. But only in so much as the panic has turned into a slowly simmering dread in your belly.
“Where to now?” Sophia asks, grinning at your obviously more cheered spirits and links her arm with yours. “I’m famished.”
"Do you still want to go to Margaritaville for dinner?" The thought of alcohol makes you queasy but you can just have a virgin one and soldier on. The point is for Sophia to have fun.
“Unless you have some little hidden gem that we have to try?” Sophia asks with a grin. “Have you been holding out on us?”
"There's always..." You bite your lip and shrug a little, deciding that it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to have a little fun. There's been a plan slowly forming in the back of your head all afternoon and it will take care of everything. Or at least...it's the best idea you have for not ruining the lives of everyone you love. "There's two places. In Chelsea...both are great but one of them is inside the theater for this crazy play, so you kind of have to do both to get the whole experience."
“Tell me more.” Sophia cocks her head curiously, intrigued by the sound of it.
“The play has a restaurant and a bar in it and instead of sitting down to watch you get up and run around and follow the actors everywhere. And the audience all wears masks, and you can’t talk, and then after you find your friends in the bar and talk about what you saw.” It’s something you’ve done with your siblings a few times and always loved it. No two experiences are ever the same, but it’s exhausting. “If you want a quieter night, we can go to the Argentinian restaurant across the street. The wine list is killer and if we name drop my brother they might make us something special.”
“The play thing sounds fun.” Sophia admits with a grin. “It’s not something I have done before. How about you?” She turns to ask Gabi.
"I don't think I've been to a play outside of Louisville since Astrid was stationed here." It had been very early in her time with Statesman, but back then they had loved to go to Broadway. "I'm in for a weird play where you run around."
“Then it’s decided.” Sophia would sing karaoke in a shoebox if it meant you would be happy, so the smile on your face as you agree means the world to her.
"Let's see if we can actually get three tickets." You pull out your phone as you walk through Times Square between them, headed to your hotel just a block away. "We can have the driver take us, which is a miracle because walking there sucks." The times you had gone with your siblings, you had done the combination of subway travel and walking which was less than fun. Sophia has one arm through yours to make sure you stay on the sidewalk while your face is in your phone and you make a small noise of surprise when there are actually tickets available for tonight. "Looks like we're doing it. I recommend lightweight clothes and your comfiest shoes. We're going to be running all night."
“We have time to go back to the hotel?” Sophia asks. “Or are we running into Target and buying what we need?”
“We have plenty of time.” The hotel is just around the corner and the three of you pop straight into the elevator easily. “It’s not really traditional, but it is based in Shakespeare. But it’s dancing. A lot of dancing.”
“I always like dancing.” Sophia’s eyes widen suddenly. “Ooooooh!” She squeals, “can we go to the Coyote Ugly bar?”
“Tomorrow night,” you promise, laughing when she looks as excited about that as she did about shopping for her wedding dress.
“Always wanted to go there since seeing that movie.” She confesses with a grin.
“We can make that happen.” Gabi chuckles on your other side. She opens the door to your suite with her key and ushers you all inside. “But if you get up and start dancing on the furniture, I’m taking video.”
“Oh absolutely.” She had already anticipated that. “And send it to Tex, hm? Make him regret telling me that I wouldn’t have fun.”
“That boy honestly thought there was any kind of scenario you wouldn’t make fun?” The dismissive sound Gabi makes as she digs into her suitcase for suitable clothing for the night is accompanied by a sigh. “He really is a clown.”
“A rodeo clown.” Sophia had giggled over the few photos Tex had shown her. It had been something fun to tease him about when he was wearing dapper suits that he didn’t find comfortable at all.
"From rodeo clown to super spy." You shake your head as you dig through your suitcase for comfortable clothes to wear tonight. Everything that you had packed was reasonably stylish, but at least you had thought to tuck your good sneakers in the bottom of your case so that you could keep up with all the adventuring Sophia wanted to do.
“So I’m going to wear leggings and a cute t-shirt.” Sophia offers, tossing out her clothes haphazardly. “That sound okay?”
"That works. I've got a pair of jeans and..." The shirt in your hand when you lift it out of your suitcase makes you swallow back an emotional reaction. "Jack packed me his Creedence Clearwater Revival t-shirt..." It's such a small gesture but it has you breathing shakily as you inhale the scent of his cologne from the stretched and worn cotton. "I–I'm going to sleep in that, I think," you murmur almost to yourself, replacing it in the suitcase and pulling out the Louisville Slugger t-shirt that you had bought at the factory tour. If Sophia noticed the expression of almost heartbreak, she doesn’t mention it. Wondering if you are just in your feelings because of where you and Jack were when you were last in New York.
“I’ll call the restaurant to see if they have a reservation left. If not, we’ll go to the place across the street.” You can’t possibly excuse yourself fast enough, heading into the suite’s bedroom to change clothes quickly and make the call. There’s someone else that you definitely need to talk to - but that will be face-to-face.
“She seems better.” Gabi immediately moves towards Sophia and frowns at the closed door. “Don’t you think?”
“Looked like she saw a ghost when she found Jack’s shirt, though. Didn’t she?” Sophia chews on her lower lip. “Hopefully this play thing will take her mind off whatever it is that’s got her so fuckin’ upset.” She wishes you would just talk to them, but there are glimpses of you feeling better that have her hopeful.
“That Southern accent is coming along nicely.” Gabi teases playfully. Sophia had said she was going to work on making her English accent less noticeable much to Tex’s disappointment.
“I put in for a transfer,” she admits with a sly grin. “Champ just has to have the board sign off on it.”
“Really!” Gabi squeals happily, knowing that Tex will be happy about that. “Becoming a certified Statesman agent?”
“I don’t want to take the chance that they’ll transfer me after we’re married.” She reasons, knowing that anything is possible when their jobs and lives can be so unpredictable. “At the end of the day, I always want to be able to come home to him.”
“I can understand that.” Gabi offers quietly. “Your jobs are very unpredictable. You spend time where you can.”
“I don’t want to miss anything.” It’s less of a concern for you and Gabi because of your lifestyles, but for Sophia and Tex? It’s a very real concern.
“You won’t.” Gabi reaches for a quick hug. “Champ is very good about balancing work and home. He won’t let you two stay apart for long, even on a mission.”
"We have Diana to thank for that." If not for his soulmate and his son, Champ would be just as much of a workaholic as most American men of his age. Thankfully, having loved ones to come home to had softened his opinion of home life completely and Diana had taught him balance.
“I just hope that we are all happy as larks.” Sophia hums, the soft smile on her face reserved for when she is thinking about her fiancé.
"We will be." Gabi has made sure she is, and she knows that Sophia and Tex already are. It seems though, unfortunately, that there are still bumps in your road. If not with Jack, then just personal ones.
"Dinner reservations are in thirty-five minutes," you announce when you come out of the bathroom in your casual clothes to dig out your sneakers. "I pulled up the menu on my phone so we can look at it in the car."
“If you enjoy it; we know we are going to eat well.” Sophia shrugs off the idea of looking at the menu. Your tastes are exquisite and you wouldn’t bring them somewhere you didn’t enjoy.
"And drink well." The sneakers you packed are favourites, lovingly broken in and tatty with affection, but strong enough to stand their ground against a few days running around the city. You pull them on and stick a double knot in the laces for good measure. "Everything at this place is good, but the cocktails are on a whole other level."
“Ohhh then we are having some drinks!” Sophia declares, although she won’t drink too much. Maybe one or two cocktails. She wants to be mostly sober in case you have another issue. She doesn’t want you to feel like you have to deal with it alone.
"Everybody finished getting changed so we can get across the city!" Gabi urges, moving around the room with purpose now that she sees you starting to perk up again and Sophia getting excited.
"I'll be ready to go in a second," you promise, moving your essentials from the large purse you had been carrying today to the zipped pockets of your worn jeans. No purse at this place is better - and in no time the three of you are back on the elevator, headed down to the street to have the driver take you to the theatre house.
Your stomach is still in knots as the driver brings you through the crowded streets of the city, and you look out the window while Sophia and Gabi gush about something that you weren't paying attention to in the first place. The idea that you could be pregnant has consumed you almost entirely since it entered your mind this morning and while it's eating at you, at least you have a plan now. One that you can't say you're particularly proud of - but you would rather bare a private shame than destroy the lives of the people you've come to love so much.
Back in Kentucky, Jack frowns at his phone. Since going into the consultation, it’s been nothing but radio silence. He knows you are safe, he can clearly see the ping of your location along with Gabi’s, Sophia’s, and the driver’s. It was a friend of Rye’s that owed him a favor. He sighs softly, wishing you had at least teased him with how much he was going to love your dress, but he’s more worried. You’ve been….off. And you being in New York has him on edge. Shaking off his regrets, he opens your messages and types out one to you: Hey sugar, I know you and the girls are partying it up, but I wanted to check in with you. I hope you are having fun. The restaurant is in good hands but this house surely is a lot more lonely without you curled up with me on the couch. I love you.
The vibration of your phone is unexpected, stirring you out of your thoughts and pulling your lips into a conflicted half-frown when you see Jack's name pop up on your screen. Being afraid of hurting him had made you entirely shut down from even texting him. Hell, if it had occurred to you at home in Louisville, you probably would have shut off from your friends instead. But they're here with you in the car and Jack is at home, so he had gotten the blunt end of your fear instead. You swallow a sigh as you open the text, nearly in tears as you read it through twice before replying: We're taking lots of pictures, so I can show you some when we get home. We're heading to the theater so my phone will be off for a few hours. I love you.
Love.
You love that man more than anything in the world. And that's why you're heading straight to see Astrid in her lab the second you're back on Statesman ground.
______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide​ @elegantduckturtle  ​
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act-nat-ural · 5 months
Text
Occupied
Prologue
(idk if posting on my phone makes the format look weird but if so please lmk. If you want to be added to the taglist lmk also!)
chapter 1
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You stroll into the small diner as if you have been there hundreds of times, due to the fact because you have. It is your first and only choice of a lunch date location with your dear friend, Eliza. You would say it is because it’s because it has the best food and the desserts are to die for, but it’s really because of how affordable it is. Despite the food being subpar, the diner is still very cozy and the waitstaff is friendly whenever you dine there. The place isn’t very busy today, with only an elderly couple and a young lady studying in the right corner being the other people.
You hardly need to scan the room before you see her in the far left corner, sipping quietly on her latte. You grin at the sight of the back of her unruly blonde hair and as quietly as possible, creep over to her. As you get closer you notice she has her headphones on, blinding her to any noise approaching her.
Perfect.
A hand quickly grasps her shoulder and she curses loudly, accidentally spilling a bit of her drink onto the table.
“Shit! Why! Why did you do that?”
You giggle and slide into the booth across from her, grabbing napkins and cleaning as you go.
“You make it easy,” you respond nonchalantly.
“No, you’re just a fucking ninja.”
“I don’t need to be a ninja to sneak up on someone who is making themselves deaf.” You respond eyebrow raised. She rolls her eyes and shrugs off her headphones. “So, what did you want to tell me about?” you question.
“What, no greetings? Hi, how are you, my darling friend?”
“I think we are beyond that point if we’re being honest. Besides, we were on the phone on my drive over here.”
“What I wanted to talk to you about was-“
Moving on then, I see.
“-you do not have to pay rent during your trip next week.”
You pause, interest immediately piqued. This could go one of two ways. One, the most probable answer, she has come up with one of her outlandish plans that we both know hold no real meaning to them, just to entertain you. Or, there’s a small chance it could be option two. She actually has found a valid, soundproof way to save you hundreds on hotel fees.
“… I’m listening.”
“I knew you would be,” She quips with a cheeky smile. “So you know my totally loser brother? The one who lives in England?”
Ah, yes. Adam. Her weirdo brother who chose to make bombs as a career. Not the most friendly or stable man you’ve met, but hey family is family.
“Don’t tell me you want me to stay with him. I think I would rather get shot down in a plane than have to converse with him for longer than an hour.” You groan and rest your face into your hands.
“Nooo, I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemies. Yuck. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, he’s going out of the country for a month or so, to Germany. Sooo…?”
“...So? I don’t see how this correlates.”
“Seriously?! You can stay at his place while he’s gone. Duh!”
“Hmmm… no.”
“Wha- no!? You can’t just say no! I already told him you would.“ Eliza starts raising her voice, accidentally attracting the attention of the student in the other corner. The lovely elderly couple either don’t notice or don’t seem to mind.
“Why in the WORLD would you do that? And lower your voice!”
“Because he wanted me to house-sit for him, and what’s the difference between me and you sitting in an empty cabin for a few weeks? Plus, not only is it not costing you money, you get PAID to stay there.”
Damn. She’s got you there. You sigh and rub your temples, feeling a migraine coming on.
“Okay, let me get this straight. I can just fly over there, live in your brother's cabin for up to a MONTH, for FREE, and get paid to do it. But he thinks it’s you staying there?”
“Yeah, but I mean a body’s a body,” she shrugs.
“Huh. I don’t know, Liz. This feels weird. “
“It’s not weird, I swear. I wouldn’t put you in a weird situation and we both know it. “
She does have a point, but you can’t shake the feeling that something unexpected is going to occur during your stay. Still, that could just be the nerves getting to you. This could be a really fun opportunity! You get to lay back and enjoy the nice open countryside, all by your lonesome.
“Okay, say it hypothetically agree. Where would I get a key to his place?” you question. “It seems suspicious to ask him to copy a key for me to use.”
“Just use mine. I had one made during my last stay, I’m pretty sure he knows about it. Like, 87 percent sure.”
You sigh. You can’t comprehend that she had a plan that made logical sense, let alone convinced you to go along with it.
“Okay. I’ll stay there.”
Yes! Let’s fucking go! We are going somewhere nice to dinner with the house-sitting money, by the way. “
You just smile and shake your head in return.
———
The day of your trip finally arrives and everything is going relatively smoothly. Although you about had 5 heart attacks every time you couldn’t feel your passport in your pocket, you landed in one piece. The flight was long and boring, but you had Chappell Roan and Podcasts downloaded to listen to. The drunk guy sitting next to you did end up spilling water on you, of course. Just your luck.
Nonetheless, your mood was sky-high. Months of planning and preparation have gone into this, and it better be everything you expected and more. Or else some tea is going in the damn harbor. You decided against using transport services mainly because of how remote Adam’s cabin was, it would be extremely tedious just to get a ride to go grocery shopping. Instead, you went with renting a vehicle. Sure, you initially entered the wrong side of the car and almost caused an accident or two, but hey! Nobody’s perfect.
You finally, FINALLY, pull into the small gravel driveway. There are hardly any neighbors around, the closest probably being a mile or two away, so you don’t feel self-conscious about your parking job. You inspect the cabin as you heave your luggage out of the car and onto the front porch.
It was a fairly large log cabin with a second story and a garden in the back. There were hardly any cobwebs on the porch, and the cabin looked well taken care of. The garden seemed to have a selection of different vegetables, but not any flowers. Figures, Adam was the kind to say taking care of flowers was a waste of time and energy. As you put Eliza’s spare key into the door knob, you felt a rush of excitement. You couldn’t wait to just do whatever you want for a few weeks. You turn the key and push the door open.
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mayapapaya33 · 1 day
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I'm rewatching Calamity and I just keep running into how dickish these characters are lol. I love them but wow they suck. We really did catch them at their best huh? Like Laerryn dropping that poison vial on the ground at the party. I am fully aware that that was just Aabria being #dramatic but for the character that's such an entitled rich person thing to do. Some poor member of the waitstaff is going to have to clean up broken glass covered in poison, and they don't even know it has poison on it! There are drunk people partying here, someone's going to trip and faceplant into a death trap. (Even if it was just a regular glass sans poison, it's still a dick move, the poison just elevates it to involuntary manslaughter).
Maybe she thinks someone will just magic it away or the waitstaff are all Automatons, or she's just not thinking about it because it wouldn't pose any problem to her, but it's so myopic and selfish of her. Someone could cut themselves and die because she wanted to be badass. Obviously, this all becomes irrelevant like 3 hours later of course, but she didn't know the Apocalypse was about to happen, that's normal behavior for her! Combined with her and Patia pulling a mean girl routine on poor Madara and she really is an asshole in her normal life. We caught these characters on their best worst day.
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hollyhomburg · 2 years
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Brain going brrrr about mafia lord namjoon again for my 3003939837th time of being an army, 
only this namjoon uses his many galaries for money laundering but secretly just loves art for arts sake 🥺 he’s really just a sweetheart who wants nothing to do with the mafia life, he buys art that he thinks is greatly undervalued for twice the price and secretly sponsors his favorite artists. his parents think he’s hopeless, he sneezed over a bag of co*kane the last time that he went to check the families product. and he litterally almost shoots off his own foot any time he has a gun in his hands, he doesn’t drive as much for his own safety as the rest of the family he’s...not cut out for the mafia life to put it bluntly. 
he’s not a monster (until you make him one) 
his parents are getting onto him to get married, his father has long since stepped down as the head of the family, preferring to split his year vacationing in monaco and macau. But once or twice a year- namjoon’s parents do meet up with him just to make sure that namjoon’s not running the family drug empire into the ground. 
it’s usually a painful meeting full of “why are you still living in an apartment and not a house” “you spend too much time on frivolous pursuits, you should take up something” “what, like murder?” “*insert weighty silence here*,  but the thing they get on him the most about- is marriage. 
namjoon’s never had much luck in the relationship department. hes had a few girlfriends and boyfriends through the years- then a few sugar babies here and there when he got tired of people pretending to only be into him for his money and would rather have that out-front. his parents Gesture to a waitress (our m/c) and say “you can choose any woman namjoon, even that one would do” as if on queue- the m/c spills a drink over a main table, but can’t get more than a simple apology out before the man starts shouting obscenities about does she know who he is and he’ll have her job for this. 
namjoon doesn’t like mean people. it’s a pity that he has to deal with them often in his line of work. 
So namjoon gets up, walks over to her and litterally punches the man out. ngl- i just love the idea of the waitstaff being all like “😅 we know who you are and we won’t call the cops” meanwhile namjoon’s never thrown a punch in his life, shakes his hand and almost cries. “if you wanted to impress me there are easier ways” are the first words she says to him. hands on her hips. and all of a sudden he feels like a schoolboy under a microscope. 
“how much money would I need to give you to walk away with me right now” and she takes one look at his Rolex and decides based off of that that yeah- going home with this businessman who has her boss quieting in with a single look.
It’s kinda love at first sight- or if not first sight- maybe first drink. they quickly find a secondary location- a bar- and get waisted together. it’s not something the m/c’s done since she was young and desperate- getting drunk with Rich men. maybe the world hasn’t been kind to her- maybe she views namjoon only as a wallet but when she confesses it he just- shrugs. “you don’t seem disappointed with me yet- you can stay until you get judgemental. then you’re out” 
“whats got you so certain that i’ll find you disappointing?” namjoon’s not used to people praising him and meaning it- or greeting him with such honesty either. 
She becomes his paid girlfriend pretty quickly after that, maybe she never goes back to her apartment only to his, empty and full of art. she tries to sneak out in the morning only namjoon stops her. “i actually have a family lunch today, if you come i’ll make it worth your while” 
the while- happens to be a brand new gyvanche dress and a matching pair of heels. namjoon (secretly) only brings her along because he knows with an outsider there- at least his family won’t talk crime and murder- it’s so painfully boring to him. 
only…there’s something off about her. Something that reminds him maybe of a cat- or like one of his assassins, something that’s figuring him out subtly piece by peice when she watches him. she’s not judgmental of him for laying in bed all day, or for talking about art too often if anything, she seems almost to prefer it that way. 
it doesn’t take her long to figure out that namjoon isn’t just a simple art dealer, that the detail that follows him and eventually her- isn’t just for protection from the paparazzi. But to Namjoon’s surprise, the first time his bodyguard jungkook takes out a would-be assailant, she doesn’t scream or act revolted at the sight of a dead body (namjoon might be soft but he’s also been conditioned for this since birth) simple peers down at it with a cool calculating eye.
The rest of the men are watching, and waiting for her to react, until she lifts her gaze to namjoon and raises a single eyebrow. and then one of namjoon’s men is apologizing and putting his coat down for her so that she can step over it without getting blood on her louis vitton pumps.  
it’s okay, she says, “they’re already red-bottoms anyway” 
it starts slowly from then, first she expresses an interest in seeing how the family business is run, then she starts to ask specifics about the money laundering and just how deep their connections run it the government as well as insurance about their police protection. the guards and henchmen quickly learn that she’s someone to respect and make happy- even before the boss (happy wife happy life and all that). 
Namjoon’s used to having a more hands off approach to the crime side of things- but he wakes up sometimes to the smell of bleach on the air, wanders down to the kitchen to find the kitchen and his wife as ordinary and as in place as possible. (she earned the ring pretty much one month in, it was a fast engagement and an even faster wedding. 
but even namjoon had to admit there was quite a-lot of work to be done and more important things to spend money on. 
its not until a few months into their marriage that namjoon realizes that the responsibilities and headaches of being the kingpin of the mafia haven’t come to call on him recently. He hasn’t been asked to make an appearance in a while or check the security of any of their bases, and he hasn’t been called on to deal with any moles or unruly employees. 
 it’s almost as if...someone else has been taking control of them for him, like someones been doing the job he never wanted. 
namjoon would be more upset only theres not much to complain about, he gets to walk art galleries every morning and purchase lavish paintings that he wants to have in his home or on his properties. he gets to go to the opera without any dignitaries trying to seek him out and make small talk. he knows that his wife...she must be behind it- but namjoon’s almost relived that she’s taken his job. 
At night when they’re lying side by side, namjoon rubs her shoulders and confesses, “you’re a better mob boss than i ever was” 
“Don’t sell yourself short joonie- it’s not that you couldn’t be- it’s that you don’t want to be.” 
“you say that like becoming a kingpin is the same as becoming a professor- you could get into grad school if you only applied yourself more” namjoon mimics a nasal voice just to hear her laugh. 
“okay- you might be right about that one- but at least becoming a queen-pin was less expensive than 5 years of education.” 
he’s happy to live his life like he’s unaware that he’s no longer the man in control until one day...she doesn’t get home on time- they’d had plans for their first wedding anniversary- namjoon commissioned an impressionistic portrait of her as a present as well as a very small original art piece because she’s been encouraging him to try and make art of his own. 
it’s not until he gets a call that makes his blood run cold. “boss...i think they’ve taken...our other boss” 
the thing about namjoon is that he’s not a monster- unless you give him a reason to be one, and taking his wife away from him is certainly a reason to bring out the monster. 
he finds her quicker than anyone expects- maybe because she’s charmed his men as much as she’s charmed him- and nothing ever did beat out loyalty like love. he finds her and she’s mostly unharmed, only...her enemy is someone namjoon hasn’t even heard off- even if according to his men they’ve been waging litteral war for the last 4 months.
 imagine her saying “i told you he’d come” all weak from pain- maybe drawn up with some chains. 
“a dog comes when called” her captor snears, gun shaking, but namjoon’s heart feels as cold as ice as he watches her- his strong beautiful wife in pain because of him, all because he couldn’t step up. she’s right- being a kingpin is all about motivation. 
“you say that like i don’t enjoy being hers, if i’m her dog then i’m fucking biting.” 
lets just say after that she starts to see him as an equal and namjoon discovers that he might not like being a monster- but he does like being /her/ monster. and the two of them lead side by side and live happily ever after 💜 thats all i’ve got <3 
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e-vasong · 30 days
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Ooooh, "light" for the WIP guessing game!
Only one instance of "light" - also in the pre-canon case fic! :D Unfortunately, searching for "light" did teach me that I use the word "slightly" way too much...
Straight to writer jail for me.
“She could be anywhere in here, then.” “We’ll find her,” Edwin promises resolutely. On their way in, he'd accepted a flute of champagne from one of the waitstaff, unbothered by the fact that he can’t drink a single drop. He’s mostly been twisting the glass in hand, occasionally holding it up to the light so he can examine the shining amber liquid. He seems positively enchanted by it, which is incredibly charming in a way that Charles can’t fully appreciate right now. “I can’t imagine that she’ll be easily missed. Babies aren’t exactly known for being quiet, especially not when—" He stops there, but Charles can fill in the blank easily enough. Especially not when they’re tired, frightened, and hungry. Not when they're almost certainly hurt. Charles has no younger siblings of his own. He’d wanted one for the longest time, though when he’d gotten older, he’d learned to be glad that he was an only child. The fewer people on the receiving end of his dad’s temper, the better. But as a kid, he'd been put on babysitting duty by his aunties plenty of times. He’s got dozens of cousins, almost all younger than him, so he knows quite well how fussy and needy infants can be. And this one’s been missing for nearly a week now.  Charles clenches his fists. “Right,” he says. He pauses, pretending to examine a vase that is supposedly—according to the plaque—500 years old and also the prison of a dangerous air elemental. He’s itching to just get going, but they’re supposed to be buyers. Which means they have to at least pretend to shop around. “Fuck.”
Send me an ask with your word of choice, and I’ll give you a WIP excerpt.
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The Adventures of Lee and Gracie - BONES AND ALL : part 2
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The Adventures of Lee and Gracie - BONES AND ALL : part 2
Warnings and such: some angst, especially sibling, talks about shitty past, stalker?, mentions of scars, jokes about dying and poor driving....?
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“And yesterday I met you. I think that’s all there is to tell.”
I don’t know why, but opening up about my life and talking to Lee felt like second nature, like the easiest thing to do in the world. It shouldn’t be, I don’t think. Despite feeling like I had known him for years, it had hardly been 24 hours. Maybe it was in the way he listened, how his eyes constantly flickering between me and the road. Or how he’d smile and nod along as I spoke, interrupting to ask questions or confirm that he was still following along with the people and places I spoke about. I never imagined people like that actually existed, not outside of the books I read at least. 
“That’s some heavy shit, not going to lie.” He chucked, pulling into a gas station. “But you seem to be handling yourself well, I’ll give you that much!” 
“Thank you? I think?” I laughed, getting out too. I watched him, again, as he got gas and walked circles around the parking lot. He was easy to watch- in a non-stalkerish type of way. 
“You hungry?”
“Ummm…”
Lee laughed, pointing to a dinner behind me. “I know better.” The idea of Lee eating regular food seemed like a foreign concept. I don’t think I can ever recall a time where my mother ate “people food,” outside of coffee and some junk food she had shoved in the back of the kitchen cabinets. I was learning, at an alarming rate, that I knew nothing. 
“You’re turn,” I smiled as we sat down to dinner.
“My turn?”
“Lee! Come on, tell me about you.” He chewed his food slowly, avoiding eye contact with me as he did. 
“Can it wait? Until we’re back on the road.” I tried to glare at him in a non-threatening type of way, if that was even possible. He smiled, holding a pinky out towards me. 
“Fine.” I turned his hand over, taking in his tattoos for the first time. “How about those? Can we talk about those now?” He laughed, taking his hand back.
“Honestly, there’s nothing to tell. I did them myself. When I was younger. For no reason at all…I was just bored. Why? You want one?” 
“I’ve thought about it…”
So we talked about tattoos, and hair and piercings…all the things teenagers toyed with and were typically done with by our age. As it turns out, the pink hair was actually supposed to be red, but he could never keep up on maintaining the color. ‘So pink it is.’ 
I learned 3 things about Lee over dinner;
The first was that he had an appetite. This boy could eat, and would eat, anything you put in front of him. He must have the metabolism of a God. He was probably, what? 140 pounds, soaking wet?! 
The second was that he was an absolute riot. He wasn’t loud, per say- quite soft spoken and monotone actually, but he could find a way to crack jokes at every word that came out of my mouth. Some of them were great- we were doubled over in laughter, drawing attention to ourselves a few times over the two hours we sat inside. Other times, the jokes were really, really lame. I’m talking kindergarten level knock knock jokes, but the way he told them…you had to laugh. And boy, did he have a beautiful laugh! 
The third was that he was unfavorably kind. This was more of a judgment call on my part, I don’t know that he would ever admit to being a kind person, considering what he was, but I thought he was kind. He held doors for me, let me order first, and asked if I had enough to eat more than once. He was overly pleasant to the waitstaff, though I saw nothing wrong with that, and he even asked the entirety of the dinner if anyone wanted the last piece of peach pie before he took it. I mean, who does that?!
“Alright mister,” I turned my full attention towards him once we got back in the truck, back against the door, feet on the seat. He turned down the radio and cleared his throat. 
“There’s not a whole lot to tell, I’m just going to say that now.” I nodded.
He talked. It was a drawn out story with bare bone details, and I could tell he was reluctant to share anything too personal, but in the moment it didn’t seem to bother me. I didn’t push him for details- I was just happy to hear him talk.
His voice stirred confusion throughout my body. Lee was human, of course he was, but I think he went his whole life believing he was a monster, or at least that’s how other people would see him. I couldn’t bring myself to see him that way though, outside of the cannibalistic tendencies, he and I shared very similar experiences growing up. The monsters I’ve read about in stories, the real ones you heard about on the news- they all had tragic backstories of abuse and neglect and abandonment. Lee didn’t get along with his dad, but he had a sister, a mother, aunts and uncles…never any real friends to speak of, but I didn’t either. I don’t know if any of that made it easier or harder on Lee to be ‘what’ he is, but I thought him to be far from a ‘bad person.’ 
We rolled to a stop at an intersection in the middle of nowhere. The red glow brought me out of my thoughts, my attention back to the boy at my feet. He yawned, looking around. I don’t think either one of us had realized how late it had gotten, and we didn’t make plans to stop somewhere. We’ll have to get better at that. Lee stuck his head out the window, like a dog, and smiled. 
“How do you feel about sleeping outside?”
“What?”
“There’s nothing here, I’m not sure where else to stop. We could find a nice spot to park, sleep under the stars?”
“Okay…” I hesitated, not sure if he was being serious or not.
He was serious.
We found a quiet spot at the edge of a field a few miles up the road. We pulled out our bags and the few small blankets we’ve collected and piled into the bed of the truck. Lee handed me the keys and a flashlight. 
“Gracie?” He muttered, trying to get comfortable. 
“Yeah?”
“Do you think we could stop in Kentucky? I promised my sister I would teach her how to drive…”
Domestic.
“Of course we can!” He smiled and rolled over without another word. 
I sat on the tailgate and tried to read. There was only a few chapters left in my book, but it was my last one and I wasn’t sure how long it would be before I’d find somewhere to get another one. The stars were beautiful. I was beginning to regret not sleeping in the bed of my truck before tonight, I had always slept in the cab, too scared to be out in the open and by myself. But I wasn’t alone anymore. I had Lee. 
******
“How long will it take to get to Kentucky?” I asked, watching as Lee’s fingers traced over the map. 
“If we don’t stop anymore than necessary, we could probably make it by tonight. Or tomorrow morning if you wanted to raid a bookstore along the way.” I smiled at him, eyes returning to the road.
The drive was long, but otherwise easy. Lee sang to every song on the radio, belted at the top of his lungs to his favorites, and groaned at every commercial. It reminded me of a road trip with a small child, except this was far more enjoyable.
We had to stop for gas one more time before the sun went down, and decided that this would be it for the day. We found the cheapest motel and walked across the parking lot to a convenient store for dinner. 
“You know, this is considered a delicacy in some areas.” Lee grinned, holding up a can of spaghettios. 
“In this area, we respect spaghettios!” I beamed, snatching the can from him and tucking it under my arm.
Lee continued looking up and down the aisles, but I could tell that he wasn’t excited about anything. There was something else on his mind. I could see it, the way he watched everyone who walked past him in the store. I’m not sure how often eaters eat, but maybe that’s what it was? Lee and I had been together for almost a week…
I slipped around the corner, gitty to find the last box of exactly what I was looking for. I returned to Lee, who was still watching someone at the front of the store. I stuck the box in front of his face and smiled. 
“Really?” He laughed. I nodded excitedly. “Will you do it for me?” The question caught me by surprise, it was an innocent request but seemed so…personal? Intimate almost? 
“Okay!” 
We perused the store for a little while longer, but Lee seemed to be more distracted than he had even when we walked in. I figured I would ask him about it later, when the only people who could hear us were the ones on the other side of the paper thin walls of the motel room. Strangers. People we would never meet face to face. Who cares what they thought. 
I noticed an old man who was watching Lee and I intently as we checked out. Lee must have noticed him too, because as we were leaving and the man made a step towards us, Lee put a hand at the small of my back and rushed us across the parking lot.
“Go. Go.” he whispered. The door slammed behind us and Lee locked it quickly, peeking behind the curtain.
“What?”
“That guy…” he started, dragging a hand through his hair. “I feel like I’ve seen him before.”
“Like, recently?”
“More than once. I can’t be sure though. He’s one of us- he’s like me, I mean. I could smell him.”
“Lee…” He began pacing in front of the door. He took a deep breath and stopped. “Do you think we should leave?”
“No,” he sounded much more confident this time. “We’re almost to my house, if I see him again…we’ll deal with it.” 
I nodded…not knowing what else to say. I tried to recall if I could smell someone like that too. I could smell Lee, he smelled nice… but I’m not sure if that was the same thing or not.
“Ready?” He asked, taking the box and walking towards the bathroom. I jumped up in excitement. 
“Look down, you’re too tall.” I laughed, reaching for the top of his head. 
“Have you done this before?” He walked away, sitting on the closed toilet seat. 
“It’s hair dye, not rocket science!”
“That’s a no!” Lee laughed. I looked around the bathroom, everything was smeared with a bright red hue, like someone had been- I stopped that thought, turning my attention back to what I was doing. 
“I think that’s all of it.” I smiled, taking a step back to look at him. 
“Are you sure? There’s still some in the bowl…” 
“There’s always extra, you should know that!” 
He chuckled softly, standing to look at himself in the mirror. He looked rather impressed that I didn’t get any on his face. I was impressed too. He smiled at me in the reflection, watching as I took off the cheap gloves and tossed them in the trash. 
“Gracie,”
I looked up. Lee was standing within arms reach, the rest of the hair dye on his fingers. I nodded, feeling a blush rise in my cheeks. He stepped forward, and grabbed a strand of hair from the underside of my head, fingers ghosting against my skin. He smeared the chemicals in, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. There was more left over than I thought there was, so I allowed him to dye a section in the front of my hair too- a section that would be more visible. 
He looked so proud of himself. 
We sat down to dinner and a movie, the comfortable silence engulfing me like a fire. I was starting to love it… I checked my watch and nudged Lee towards the bathroom to wash out his hair. He took a shower, emerging a short time later with the ends of his curls now a bright shade of red. 
“Not too bad!” He smiled in the mirror. 
“Oh my god!” I stumbled to my feet, walking towards him. 
“What?!” He immediately tried to look at the back of his head. I reached him and grabbed his arm.
“Adam, Eve and Steve?!” I laughed at the tattoo on his shoulder. He stilled for a moment under my touch. “I love that!” 
Until now, I hadn’t seen Lee shirtless. Not that I thought it was a big deal, but it let me find my new favorite tattoo of his. I could guess that it was a jab at sexuality, his or otherwise, but it was funny. A continuation of the jokes he loved to make. My fingers trailed lightly down his arm, not realizing that I was holding onto him the way I was. I selfishly let my eyes wander over his body, a well healed, but good sized scar on the left side of his chest. A bite. I reached to trace it, stopping when Lee took a deep, shaky breath. 
“Sorry.” I whispered, hands dropping from his body entirely. 
****
I tried desperately to peel my eyes open, the sun pouring into the room was overwhelming. There was rustling beside me, Lee was peeking out the window again. I watched him, assuming he didn’t know I was awake. This was quickly becoming my favorite way to pass the time. 
“You could take a picture, it would last longer.” He smiled, looking at me over his shoulder. 
“Sorry,” I yawned, looking around the room. Lee’s bed hardly looked slept in, or on. I worried that he had spent the whole night in front of that window. 
I stumbled to my feet, crossing the room without an ounce of grace in my body. Oh, the irony. I smiled at the new red strands in my hair. I quite liked them, actually. Not to sound all metaphorical and english-teacher like, but it felt like something that sort of…tied…Lee and I together. One in the same, but still different. 
“We should go, when you’re ready.” Lee spoke, standing behind me and pulling me from my thoughts. 
We only had a few short hours until we got to Lee’s house, nothing in comparison to the hours we had put in over the last two weeks. I was worried that things would be awkward, or that he would bring up the small moment we shared last night, but he didn’t, and I think I was grateful for that. 
“This is my aunt's house,” he said, pulling into the driveway. “She died a few months ago, so it’s empty. We can stay here. I live just on the other side of that plant, but my mom she’s…” He shook his head and smiled. 
“Say no more!”
“I’m going to go take Kayla driving…hopefully I don’t die!” 
“She can’t be that bad!”
“You’re right, I survived your driving-”
“Lee!” I swatted his chest playfully. 
“Any requests for dinner?”
“Are you cooking?” I raised an eyebrow at him, looking towards the kitchen.
“Absolutely not! But we got about everything in town. Just can’t be seen hanging around…do you need to know why?”
“Nope!”
“So?”
“Surprise me?”
Lee smiled. “Lock the door, keep the lights off! Snoop around if you want, fuck if I care. I’ll see you in a bit! Hopefully!” 
I snooped. I didn’t see any reason not to. It was clear this was something that didn’t bother Lee, he snooped through people’s things all the time- dead people for that matter. The more time I spent with Lee, the more questions I had about being an eater. My mind was still unwavering, there wasn’t a single part of me that wanted to experience any of that for myself, but I had questions nonetheless. I wondered how much Lee would be willing to divulge, if it wasn’t anything “personal.” 
I found a box with old photos and sat on the floor to look through it. These were all strangers, I didn’t recognize anyone in the photos, but they seemed to have a happy life. About halfway through the box I found a photo of a little boy, his smile screamed familiarity. Baby Lee! There was a stack of photos of him at Christmas and his birthday parties, at halloween and on a bike. He didn’t look much older than 10, but after that they stopped. No pictures of him at any other family events, school functions, carnivals…nothing. Maybe it all started around that age. Does his family know? They must know…or they don’t and that’s why he still sees them?
“Gracie!” Lee called from the door. I had lost track of time, the sun was setting and the street lights were coming on. “Food’s getting cold!” 
“How did it go?” I asked, watching him pick at his food. 
“Minimal deaths- could have gone worse.” He smiled. “Actually Kayla-”
There was a loud banging on the door, followed by a woman yelling.
“Lee, I know you’re in there! Open the fucking door.” I looked at Lee who simply rolled his eyes and stood up from the table. “Come on you asshole. Open the goddamn door!”
“Speaking of the devil!" He whispered. "Kayla, fucking chill!” He opened the door and a short girl with bright blonde hair came barreling in, shoving him back until he hit the wall. I stood in the doorway. 
“I found the note you left me, you’re leaving already?!”
“It’s just for a little bit, I’ll be back. Chill!”
“Why the fuck do you do this!” She continued to yell. “You’re just like dad you-” She stopped, finally noticing me. “Who are you?”
“Kayla, this is Gracie. Gracie, this is my sister. Kayla.”
“Hi-”
“Fuck you, Lee!”
“Outside, Kayla.”
“No! You-”
“I wanna talk to you outside.” Lee sighed through gritted teeth. “Please, just go outside.” 
My mind flashed back to the night I met Lee. To the drunk man in the grocery store and everything that followed afterwards. I could hear them arguing outside, but couldn’t make out what was being said. I sat down and waited, not knowing what else to do. 
“Fuck you, Lee!” Kayla yelled, and I could see her storming off towards their house. 
Lee came in, stress and frustration radiating off of him. His body temperature alone raised the temperature in the house a few degrees. He shed the button up he was wearing and I could see him sweating. His sister must really get under his skin. Either that, or just being back here was a lot. His leg bounced restlessly as he sat and tried to steady his breathing. 
“I think we should go…” he sighed. “She’s probably going to tell my mom I’m here and I just…I don’t want to deal with that right now, you know.” 
Dinner was abandoned, Lee grabbed a few things from the house and we set off once again. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, sitting idol in the driveway for a moment. I slid closer to him, hand resting on his. 
“It’s okay,” I tried to sound reassuring. “Siblings are supposed to get under your skin.”
Lee chucked softly, relaxing his shoulders. “Can we make another stop? Before we go?” 
“Of course.”
We drove to the far part of town, to a slaughterhouse. Lee smiled, parking the truck and turning off the lights. 
“What are we…”
“I used to work here over the summers. I wanna show you something.”
I followed him, over fences and railings and through doors. Lee knew this place like the back of his hand. He didn’t seem worried about getting caught. I guess there was only one security guard and he was old. ‘Deaf in both ears,’ as Lee put it when I asked. We ran down a few dark hallways until we reached a cafeteria. 
“Lee?”
“I can’t get into the safe, but they keep petty cash in the lockbox. Stand guard?” He ran through the back, returning a moment later with a good size stack of money and handed it to me. “You’re the bank.” He smiled breathlessly. 
“Is this what you wanted to show me?”
“Of course not! Come on.” He grabbed my hand and we were off again.
In the back of the plant there was soft music playing, and the distinct sound of cows. It was sad to think about, but otherwise peaceful. We climbed to the top of the walkway and sat, our feet dangling over an empty pen. 
“I used to hide up here a lot.” Lee smiled, looking around. I could see why. 
Comfortable silence. 
“What’s on your mind?” 
“Hmm?”
“You look like you wanna say something- ask something, so speak.” 
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to…” 
“Deal.”
“What’s it like?”
“To work here?”
“No,” I laughed, picking at the skin around my nails. “Eating…to have to do the things you do.”
“I guess I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
“I wouldn’t know…”
“It’s kind of like predator versus prey meets natural selection. I can’t speak for other eaters, and maybe your mom did it differently…but for me…I try to only pick the people who aren’t worth saving.”
“Saving?”
“Yeah. Like the guy in the grocery store when we first met? No one’s gonna miss him.” Lee laughed. “Only men, not married, no kids…”
I nodded. There seemed to be a method to who Lee “picked.” It wasn’t just a random, spur of the moment decision, but something he calculated meticulously in his mind. He didn’t want to hurt anyone- he didn’t want someone’s wife waiting for him at home, or some kids wondering where their dad was. Lee was kind like that- if there was a way to be kind in all of this. 
My hand found Lee’s, lacing our fingers together carefully as I found the courage to ask the next question. He seemed to sense this, and squeezed my hand gently.
“Do you remember your first time?”
“Yeah, it was with this girl when I was like 16? She was hot-”
“Lee!” I laughed, leaning into his shoulder.
“I was…10? Maybe? I don' t even remember if that was the first, but it's the first I remember. It was a babysitter. I don’t remember why I did it, or how it started…but I remember feeling this kind of rush- the blood vessels popping you know. I felt like a superhero. Until it was over anyway. I remember knowing what I did was wrong, but I wasn’t sorry…if that makes sense. I think I was upset that it was a girl.” Lee sighed, “I liked her too- she was good with kids!”
“So, do your parents know?”
“My dad does. He's one too, but I didn’t know it at the time. He umm,” He reached for the scar on his face, stopping himself and hoping I didn’t see. I did. “He made sure I wasn’t going to tell anyone. And I didn’t. For 12 years.” He smiled at me before chewing on his bottom lip. 
I let go of Lee’s hand, offering him my other one as I reached up to card my fingers through his hair. I tucked a few pieces behind his ear before he finally looked at me with the softest expression I had ever seen on a person. 
“Do you think I’m a bad person?” he spoke, barely above a whisper. I smiled but shook my head. 
“No, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”
My fingers rested on the back of his neck, eyes glancing between his and his lips. I pulled him gently towards me, waiting for a sign of protest. There wasn’t one. It felt like an eternity before his lips ghosted against mine, the faint smell of his last cigarette on his breath. He was…intoxicating. I gave him one final tug towards me and with it, time stopped. He kissed with such caution and softness. Nothing was rushed or ravishing and breathless. I supposed I had expected something more, but found myself much preferring this than the visions I had of how this was going to happen. 
Everything I knew about him, and all that I thought I knew came to life in that kiss. I wanted this feeling for the rest of my life-
Oh, shit!
Lee pulled away, his forehead resting on mine, eyes still closed. I didn’t have to look at him to see the smile on his face. I could feel it radiating off of his body. Our fingers were still intertwined, squeezing each other carefully. There was a loud ‘moo’ from one of the cows below us, causing both of us to jump slightly. He groaned, staring at the ceiling for a moment as if trying to commit this to memory. 
“We should go,” he finally sighed. 
“Where to next?”
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thelediz · 5 months
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Sonic Underground Episode 15: Artifact
I’m watching Sonic Underground in search of inspiration to finish a fic I’ve been writing forever. It’s a sad state of affairs. See the recap of the first three episodes here, if you're interested!
Translation thing here: in my dialect, ‘artifact’ is spelt ‘artefact’. I am absolutely going to switch between the two without meaning to. Sorry.
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The plot (for want of a better word): Robotnik claims to have uncovered the spoils of the Mobius spiritual ground Mobo-Pinchu! He tries to sell them off to the aristocrats, but the Sonic Underground have discovered they’re actually old weapons! Can they save the aristocrats and put a stop to Robotnik’s dangerous exploits?
Okay. The last two episodes have been incredibly demotivating. We’re going in with positivity and hope for a proper trashfire, okay? Okay.
“We like to believe the past doesn’t have any effect on us”. WOW. That is not the case anymore and I can’t even blame the writers now I think about it. Things have CHANGED, my friends.
World building, hooray! They’re undercover at a high society party and Sonia is panicking because she knows literally everyone here and isn’t even trying to hide her face. But as Sonic points out, no one even looks at the waitstaff.
I have terrible facial recognition, for the record, so although I do look at waitstaff, I wouldn’t recognise her either. Context matters.
Sonia’s in love with Bartleby +1
Mobo-Pinchu… SIGH. I love it, but SIGH. For the record, Machu-Picchu was an incan settlement with multiple temples, and current theory says it was an emperor’s estate. In Sonic Underground, it’s a lost spiritual centre.
So it’s kind of extremely funny in hindsight that the whole point of this episode is that the Mobo-pinchu artefacts are actually old weapons. It’s probably pretty true to life!
So this whole event is a fundraising event for Robotnik’s SWATbots. “For everyone’s peace of mind and security”. And everyone who doesn’t bid is suspect. Have I mentioned the worldbuilding? Because THIS WORLDBUILDING.
So Sonia apparently attended Mobo University. I remind you, she’s either twelve or sixteen. And she attended university. We smile and nod.
Manic’s black market tendencies Thievery Is A Problem +1
So the artefact is actually a weapon from the ‘last Mobian war’ about 500 years ago. Meanwhile, the other artefact is a still-live bomb that Manic’s contact has just set off. Round of applause for old Mobian tech, still running digital timers after five hundred years.
So the black market contact not only sells to Bartleby (pointing out that Bartleby 100% deals in crime, just quietly), but sells out the triplets because Sonic roughs him up. And he is almost immediately robotocised for it. HAVE I MENTIONED THE WORLDBUILDING.
I love that Bartleby asks Sonia when she’s going to grow up and stop fighting Robotnik. Like this is all teenage rebellion. It’s so perfect on so many levels.
Poor Bartleby’s home… completely trashed by both the Hedgehogs and Sleet. The show implies he deserves it, but I mean… honestly. Poor idiot.
Also, Robotnik threatens Bartleby for going to the black market, not with robotocisation, but telling the other aristocrats he cheated them out of SWATbot protection. The show makes out that this is just Bartleby not being able to go to cool parties, but for an aristocrat who deals in power, this is a HUGE threat. Bartleby is quite rightly horrified at the idea and immediately focusses on going against the Sonic Underground for at least this episode.
Have. I. Mentioned. I. Love. This. Unspoken. Series’. Worldbuilding.
A last minute song to save the day: You Can’t Own Everything. The singing leaves a lot to be desired but the instrumental is a bop! The lyrics themselves are very 80s environmentalism, so we smile and nod.
And… randomly, while escaping, the triplets find the real Mobo-Pinchu. It, unlike the real one, actually is a secret underground temple filled with gold, which the triplets say belongs to the People Of Mobius (and not the Resistance). The implication that I, problem that I am, take away being that they would only claim this treasure once they’re proper royalty again and can use it in actual service of Mobius.
You know, like Robotnik claimed to be doing.
Heheheheh
Anyway. Yes. Thank you, trashfire, I desperately needed this episode after the last couple.
The counters:
Sonic implying less than 100% American heterosexuality: 4
Sonia in love with Bartleby: 4/37
Sonia in love with someone who is not Bartleby: 1/37
Sonia’s got super strength: 3
Manic’s thieving Is A Problem: 3
On to the next.
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dragongodryss · 4 months
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Fairy Tail Tumblr
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🐝Bumblr-Bee69 (Sting) Follow
Its Pride month, you know what that means!
🗿DeathMetalBruh (Gajeel) Follow
No?
🗿DeathMetalBruh Follow
Do we slay gay dragons?
🌅SkyWatcher777 (Wendy) Follow
Please don't kill me
🐝Bumblr-Bee69 Follow
@DeathMetalBruh I prefer to slay dragons gayly. Your thing is stupid
Btw, are you a dragonslayer? So am I do we know each other irl?
🗿DeathMetalBruh Follow
@Bumblr-Bee69 Sting are you braindead?
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🔥NinNinIconic (Natsu) Follow
So, you guys know how the earth is flat, right? Like, is the sun also flat? Do we even know? It'll burn your eyes if you look at it for too long, so there's no way to know
🗿DeathMetalBruh Follow
This had better be a shitpost
🔥NinNinIconic Follow
why would it be a shitpost
🌅SkyWatcher777 Follow
I thought the earth was round?
🐸Catlover (Rogue) Follow
Fun Fact: It's actually vaguely squished! But round is pretty close
🐝Bumblr-Bee69 Follow
@Catlover Nerd.
🐸Catlover Follow
@Bumblr-Bee69 I'm in your walls darling
🐝Bumblr-Bee69 Follow
Flattered but I have a boyfriend
🔥NinNinIconic Follow
@DeathMetalBruh Answer the question coward
🐸Catlover Follow
@NinNinIconic Because the earth is roundish Hope this helps
🔥NinNinIconic Follow
I need to kick someone's ass.
🔥NinNinIconic Follow
Update: I kicked her ass.
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🌅SkyWatcher777 Follow
Romance side of Tumblr, I need help. I have a date in 30 minutes what do I do?
🐝Bumblr-Bee69 Follow
Assert dominance. Eat more than them. Drink more than them. Talk more than them. Dress up better. Hold doors open. Push their chair in. Ask more questions than them. Carry them if they let you. If someone else tries to talk to them, put them in their place. Take them home after (Good way of figuring out where they live)
🐸Catlover Follow
Don't do this.
🔥NinNinIconic Follow
Idk @Bumblr-Bee69 's advice sounds solid. I notice @Catlover failed to suggest an alternative. I know who I'm gonna trust.
🗿DeathMetalBruh Follow
This is how misinformation spreads. I hate tis goddam hellsite.
🐸Catlover Follow
@NinNinIconic @SkyWatcher777 If you're going out on a date with them, they're already interested. Do whatever it is you're doing and talk to them. Try actually listening too. Might help.
Other things that may help: Taking a shower first @Bumblr-Bee69 do it now. Clean clothes too
Not picking a fight with the waitstaff (always applicable when out)
Being a decent human being
🐝Bumblr-Bee69 Follow
@Catlover yo wft
🔥NinNinIconic Follow
@Catlover What If i did all those things while asserting dominance?
🗿DeathMetalBruh Follow
Yeah, that would work
🌅SkyWatcher777 Follow
Asserting dominance didn't work. My date's friend just called me and told me she doesn't want to see me if this is how I'm going to act.
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🌅SkyWatcher777 Follow
Romance side of Tumblr, how do I get my friend to talk to me? I acted like a jerk during our date and she'd mad and I miss her.
🐸Catlover Follow
The one where you took the romance side of tumblr's advice?
🗿DeathMetalBruh Follow
No need to roast them, chill
🐝Bumblr-Bee69 Follow
Buy her chocolate, Show her the thread, and Apologize. Works for me.
🐸Catlover Follow
@Bumblr-Bee69 Not for long if you keep giving bad love advice like it's gospel.
🐝Bumblr-Bee69 Follow
Well, I have a boyfriend, and he's a total catch, so I'd say I'm doing something right.
🗿DeathMetalBruh Follow
I'll show him your shitty dating advice and this post and we'll see if you stll have a boyfriend.
🐝Bumblr-Bee69 Follow
Fuck you! he wouldn't be with me if my advice wasn't solid. @SkyWatcher777 probably fucked it up somehow
🐸Catlover Follow
@Bumblr-Bee69 Go do your dishes instead of trolling.
🐝Bumblr-Bee69 Follow
What kind of comeback is that, nerd? I bet there aren't even any dishes, my boyfriend probably did them already.
🌅SkyWatcher777 Follow
@Bumblr-Bee69's advice worked this time.
🔥NinNinIconic Follow
@Bumblr-Bee69 It's been 20 minutes, were there any dishes?
🐝Bumblr-Bee69 Follow
yea
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Learned how to do this from this post
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richardsphere · 6 months
Text
Leverage Redemption Log: The Pyramid Job
Well either we're going to Egypt (not in the budget) the louvre (not in the budget) or a Bass Pro Shop (in the budget, unlikely). That or its an MLM. --- Woman is telling her MLM bosses about how she needs to leave the MLM. They tell her success is definitly on the way.
Huh an MLM that has a return policy. (i mean its definitely a shit policy that scams them but thats better then most MLM's)
And they reverse psychology the woman back into the pyramidcult. --- Scene opens with a person in an old london flat-cap getting thrown into a container of hay by Elliot. (this guy is so london that i'd be suprised if this doesnt somehow tie into the "Sophie Backstory" that is being slowly woven into the season-arc.)
Pick London Tweeds pocket full of diamonds, fund a school, pay off debts. Denouement for an off-screen adventure.
Huh, im right. Its just not the same guy but this "Billie the Gent" fellow is also wearing a flatcap (and this guy is even wearing something tweed-like) So i assume this scene is taking place in a London warehouse (the beautiful thing about warehouses, they're pretty standard regardless of geographical location. No need for expensive on-location shots)
Billy is worried about his daughter (she was a baby when Sophie sent him and Arthur to prison)
Elliot dated someone who bought the product.
Billie is doing a bit of a guilt trip, and Elliot doesnt trust him. So expect a third-act betrayal of some sort. --- Con starts in-medias-res. Breanna is an accountant. She does not like how much firewalls they've put around comic sans slideshows of babies.
The point of the Con (at least for now): Get a virus on the server. Automated "return true" to all attempts at a refund.
I dont think that the people working at the datacenters of an MLM are usually in the "level"-based structure. So we need a Diamond key... well if they're all on the funky little wristwatch-drives like Saphire here has? Thats a simple Parker Pickpocket. (seems that she's thinking along the same lines).
Also daily, streams from the boss bitch? Thats gonna make a return, and knowing the standard Leverage MO: That is gonna be her Confession Cam
Sophies scheme for Richard: Divide and conquer by convincing him he needs some more Toxic Masculinity in his life. But like, only a smidgen. So its a Harry job, not an Elliot.
--- Sophie arrives at the cult-fundraiser thing. (Parker is in situ as waitstaff) Thank god this show is willing to drop the C word. (Cult. Though though the other one might be apropriate as well) Ok so apparently the company just steals downlines whenever they want?
Richard exists stage to let Debra shine. Do some pseudo-inspirational brainwashing. We have found Billies daughter Miranda. Parker offers up the Venezuela Protocol. --- Operation Bromcom is initiated. I do not like the Tom Selleck stache on Harry.
Bromcom makes it into Phase 2 no problem. --- Debra reads through Sophies accent and really puts her on the spot, also she puts the spots on her. Cut for comercial as if Sophie doesnt have an earpiece. --- Ok we're not even bothering with the earpiece, Sophie is just gonna StageCultBS her way out of this.
But yeah Debra is onto Sophie. Which isnt really a problem? (Sophie is only here to keep an eye on Miranda and create an opening for Parker to do her thing. Being in the spotlight is kind of the point) --- Back with Breanna, Saphire very much is starting to see the dawning light Re:Pyramids. It's far from noon yet but its definitly twilight.
Ronald has a real "they've got skulls on them" moment when he sees the Teletubbies sunbaby on a giant pyramid in the logo. --- Sophie has Parker feign a pregnancy. (she named the kid after Hardison)
And we've just (temporarily) screwed over Miranda. (look there are no stakes here)
Seriously how many glass pyramids are on this table Miranda is standing at?
"I dont have a tissue but you can use my sleeve". 10/10. Well looks like Parker has succesfully convinced Miranda to leave. --- Meanwhile Billy is talking on the phone with someone in a foreign language. Meanwhile Elliot, not involved in our Con, is keeping tabs on Billy. Turns out Elliot can see a narrative throughline when its in his face and is gonna punch it out of Billy before the concequences of Sophies past come to blow our heroes' faces off. --- Back with Harry, Parker tells him to play the "manly emotional insecurity card". ("If only my dad had been able to tell me he was proud of me when he was still alive") Richard has a safe and Parker is ready to go. (so we're switching Diamond-bracelet targets from Debra to Richard) --- Back with Elliot, Billy is remniscing about old times. (turns out food works just as well as punches)
He doesnt trust Sophie, but also he doesnt have any grudges against her. (he understands that she didnt sell him out, he was going down anyway and he doesnt resent her, unlike Arthur) --- Back at Cultcon, Sophie is being politely interogated by Debra. (Debra sees a kinship/rivalry i think?)
Oh i see. (perhaps a bit late). its a maternity cult, about parenthood. And Sophie was always very maternal basically taking all of 2 episodes before becoming an all-out mom to Parker in the OG run. We're about to drop the "you abandoned your child" revelation aren't we? The narrative throughline of the season isnt the Duke she married, its the current duke/duchess that's gonna be the season finale. --- Back to Breanna and Robert, turns out the cheap bracelets cost 200 USD. Also he wants to play Jazz. Breanna knows where the Yes Virus needs to go (penthouse computer) --- Parker tells Harry to move it like a madagaskan lemur. Gold bars, land title deeds in Uzbek... (close enough to russia that it might have been a something Billy was covering up. Except then a reveal that Elliot knows he wasnt speaking russian cause Elliot speaks Russian.)
Oh god he's working with Billy. Thats our 3rd act complication isnt it? (yes a "sophie had a child" reveal would be a twist but it wouldnt be a complication to the con. But a betrayal by Billy...)
Richard challenges Harry to a duel. (who has spotted the bracelet. its in the mancave.) --- Oh Sophie is doing exposition about Nate, i thought we were gonna get into the Duke. (Or it could be both)
Richard just knocked Harry's earpiece out (quick, tell him its a hearing aid. You've spent too much time around loud cars and payed the price. He'll fall for it!) --- Back from commercial, It seems Harry is going for the lie i came up with (im starting to really get feel these writers)
Parker is compromised with her fake belly, and unfortunately Richard isnt buying the hearing aid story (worth a try) --- Breanna is so pissed that Harry's sword-fighting a viking and she's stuck as an accountant. (Ronald has gone home, grabbed his trumpet, returned to tell Breanna and now he's off again) --- "your brandy is watered down and your cubans are fake" hitting him where it hurts him most.
Harry gets to catch punch out a guy with a sword and catch a thrown axe with his shield. He's really getting into Phase 4. --- Meanwhile back at Sophie, we're she's stalling for time with expositiondumps to Debra. And the clock strikes (i think it was 4?) and Sophie turns the tide from reluctant admisions of past trauma to goading and baiting Debra into a confession. Oh she's calling for security after she just confessed to her actions on her own daily livestream? I do wonder what'll happen when we get back from commercials --- So yeah she was on broadcast (cause of course)
Breanna used Harry as a distraction to put her virus on Richards Wristband (man, if only Debra hadnt insisted on a Nuclear Missile-type 2-key situation she could've stopped all the returns from happening right now)
Harry runs into the Denouement looking like a fool because someone has to explain the logistics of the financial fallout (also he put in a call, the repoman works fast) --- Back at the theatre the Selleck Stache has been glued to a mixer. Parker is keeping the baby, and Harry is keeping the armor (it reeks but its probably expensive)
Richard spilled some beer in the car (which, is anticlimactic as far as "you ruined my car for the mission" jokes go), and Richard is playing jazz outside the theatre. ---
YES I KNEW THAT IT WASNT RUSSIA! It was the Uzbek deed after all! So our next mark is presumably this Ramsey guy. (if he's into runways, he's probably a plane-based smuggler) Final camera pan upwards to a devil-like statue. (not a Gargoyle as it isnt a waterfeature, and its mouthes and orifices are closed so it also isnt a grotesque)
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nitewrighter · 2 years
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I posted 13,228 times in 2022
That's 428 more posts than 2021!
2,199 posts created (17%)
11,029 posts reblogged (83%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@andthentheywilleatthestars
@telltaletypist
@hotvampireadjacent
@pyropiano
@spacepunksupreme
I tagged 7,507 of my posts in 2022
Only 43% of my posts had no tags
#we queue - 2,700 posts
#overwatch - 243 posts
#dracula daily - 189 posts
#dc - 176 posts
#asoiaf - 175 posts
#spy x family - 154 posts
#fe3h - 154 posts
#dracula - 149 posts
#elden ring - 142 posts
#sw - 104 posts
Longest Tag: 138 characters
#she shouldn’t even fucking have it you can bet your ass that ‘tswift’s plane’ is being used as a selling point for the rich fucks using it
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
hi! is there any chance of you writing a series/more snippets around the cinderella telling you posted a bit ago? i really loved it!
Continuing from this post.
---
The prince is sitting on the steps, his eyes aren't quite focused and he's turning over the glass slipper in his hands. What the hell was that? He's trying to place her face in his memory but everything’s just... fffft. Gone. Blank. He remembers what she said. But even the pitch is weird--it could be any voice.
“Your highness?”
The prince glances over his shoulder at the Captain of the Royal Guard.
“Oh--hey---” the prince blinks a few times.
“...awfully odd, that girl,” the Captain folds his arms.
“I--” the prince draws a breath in through his teeth, “ I need to find her.” 
“Understood,”  the captain of the guard nods, “I’ll send guard details on every road leading out of the palace.”
“What?! No--that’s insane! She’s going to think I’m--No, I can’t approve of that...” the Prince is pressing his fingertips to his forehead, his other hand still gripping the slipper.
“I gotcha,” the guard captain says with a wink, “’Don’t’ send horsemen after her.”
“Did you just--Brad--don’t--no. I said no. No winks. Don’t send any guards after her, I’ll look psychotic.”
“Eh. Little late for that.” Brad the guard captain shrugs.
“What?”
“Well she and her whole carriage slipped past security somehow, and she got into the ball without even being announced by the Master of Ceremonies. That’s a security risk. And she seemed suspiciously chummy with the waitstaff. And if she ditched the party in this much of a hurry, she might’ve taken state secrets or something. So, obviously, I sent the horsemen...” he checks his pocket watch, “3 minutes ago.”
The prince pales. “She just--she said she needed to get home before midnight. I think she has a messed-up family situation, if I make things worse for her...”
“Or maybe she needs to reach a drop off point for whatever she’s stolen.”
 “You don’t know if anything’s missing!”
“Not yet, we don’t.”
“Brad!”
“It’s protocol.”
“Protocol!? I’m the goddamned crown prince! And you’re sending armed guards after the love of my life!”
Brad blinks at him, not really sure how to process that. “Uh...”
“Ig-ignore that. Don’t tell my dad I said that,” the prince pinches the bridge of his nose, “Brad I swear to god, don’t tell my dad I said that. I was panicking and--and--You know how weird he gets about this stuff.”
“Yeah--no--totally, your highness,” Brad looks out over the palace gardens, “Look, we can just say we wanted to make sure she got home safely.... when we catch up with her, I mean.” 
“Send a messenger pigeon telling them to hang back from her actual house--but get her address--maybe I can find a way to--to explain things... figure out what’s going on...” He’s wrapped both hands around the shoe again. 
“That hers?” Brad nods at the slipper.
“...yeah...”
“Love of your life, huh?”
See the full post
7,164 notes - Posted February 1, 2022
#4
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Here’s the original thread from Twitter but I want all my followers protesting the recent supreme court decision to stay safe. 
[Image description: A screenshot of a tweet from Rh3t0ric (@avglibsoc) that says ‘In lieu of Roe V Wade being overturned, I’m going to compile a thread of any protest advice I can find’ followed by an infographic illustrating the following:
PROTESTING SAFELY
What to Wear:
-Nondescript, solid color clothing; cover identifying tattoos.
-Goggles & mask
-Heat resistant gloves
-Emergency Contacts written down
-Tie your hair up
What to bring:
-Water for drinking & tear gas
-Snacks
-Cash/change & ID
-Bandages & First Aid supplies
-Washcloth
-Earplugs
-Protest signs
DON’T BRING:
-Cell phone without first turning off Face/Touch ID, going into airplane mode, and disabling data
-Jewelry
-Anything you don’t want to be arrested with
-Contact lenses
/end image description]
15,521 notes - Posted June 24, 2022
#3
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38,194 notes - Posted September 8, 2022
#2
I was about to make a post about like... how my family has this lemon tree out front, and one of the funniest things about having a lemon tree is occasionally I’ll be out in front doing whatever and I’ll see someone walking past and quickly grab a lemon off the tree and stuff it in their pockets as quick as they can like they’re shoplifting. 
I was about to make a post about how that’s funny and how, y’know people can have our lemons, it’s not a big deal because the tree pumps them out like gangbusters, but I really can’t make that post without thinking of... them...
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50,633 notes - Posted March 10, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
“The prince just fell in love with Cinderella because of her looks!”
Wrong. Okay, picture this--
So there’s the prince, okay? He’s like, smack dab in the center of the ballroom, and he is like, horrifically aware that this whole ball thing is a result of his dad falling into a panic about the royal lineage or whatever and he’s stuck listening to highborn girl after highborn girl, all lined up, introducing themselves like, “Oh yeah my family’s been a longtime supporter of the crown, and I think you’re cute, *cough* I’ve been told I have child-bearing hips *cough* Who said that? Anyway--” and Princey boy is just smiling through it, he has been the center of attention for entirely too long, he misses his emotional support horse, and is just internally like “Someone please kill me now.” And then... he sees her--This isn’t a love at first sight thing, this is a ‘what the hell is going on over there’ thing, because this girl has not gotten into the Debutante line for a solid 45 minutes. 
She’s just at the hors d’oeuvres table going HAM on the prosciutto-wrapped asparagus, and like, she’s polite about it, she’s happy to move aside for other people grabbing punch and canapes (and she’s really so sweet with the wait staff, it’s kind of cute because they’re like... definitely not used to being acknowledged) but it’s like, “Damn girl, did you not eat today?” and then the prince is kind of stuck with the uncomfortable thought of ‘how many girls starved themselves to fit into a corset for this.’ And then the Prince realizes he’s missed the past 4 Debutante introductions because he’s watching Mystery girl hork down crab rangoons. So he’s like, “Excuse me” and manages to break free from the never-ending parade of girls who will hop on his dick for status.
 And as he’s approaching Mystery Girl, it’s kind of hitting him that something’s not quite natural about her. Not fake, but not quite real. But at the same time this whole evening’s been just a whole circus of people acting fake as hell, so like, someone seeming a little off doesn’t seem bad, necessarily. And he sidles up to her like, “Hi,” and she’s like, “Oh--hey, have you tried the tapenade?” and she points to one of the plates, and at this point, he could hit her with the “You don’t know who I am, do you?” deal or the “Very funny, I see your play” deal, but at this point it occurs to him that, no, he hasn’t had anything to eat throughout this whole damn ball, partially because of being stuck in the debutante parade, partially because of nerves, and there’s something so disarming about the question that he grabs a crostini and she still seems so food-focused that it doesn’t seem possible that this is a play. So they both grab little plates and ditch the party.
She pretty much clears her plate in under two minutes and then has half of his plate, he’s cool with it, mostly he’s just absolutely fascinated listening to her.
See here’s the thing about Cinderella:
1. She doesn’t know he’s the prince. Like yeah, he’s been at the center of the room, but she’s kind of spent half the party eagerly looking around everywhere she’s allowed to go (”Have you seen rose garden? Have you seen the solarium??” further confirmation that she doesn’t know who she’s talking to) and the other half stuffing her face with food. 
2. She assumes she’s never going to see anyone here tonight again, and no one recognizes her, so she has no filter.
So she’s just talking about whatever with this guy. He seems cool. She talks about her friends, who are rats. She makes little outfits for them. Sometimes they bring her little gifts. She is already the coolest person the prince has ever met because of this. She pretty much offhandedly talks about whatever is fucked up about the kingdom that would take his advisors two hours of hemming and hawing and watering down to address. She just says it like it’s nothing, just funky little things she’s observed, and again, she’s not aware that he’s the prince, but it’s still pretty damn bold to bring up at a literal royal ball.
She... seems to have the majority of graces that lots of girls from Respectable Families™ have, but there’s something strange about it, something simultaneously broken and hardened, like the way you can see where ice has thawed and re-frozen. Also the way she talks about her family, and the way she avoids talking about her family-- is raising several red flags, not in the “Oh this is another person trying to take advantage of me” sense, but in the “Oh fuck, something’s gone really wrong and you need help” sense and also lowkey a ‘damn is she even getting fed?’ sense. But he can’t say, ‘Hey, that’s not fucking normal for people to say that to you or treat you that way. We need to get you out of there,’ without sounding crazy himself, so for now, he’s just going to chill, make sure she’s comfortable, and keep enjoying the evening. She’s somehow befriended like 4 of the waitstaff so they’re willing to cover for them while they disappear for a little bit, and they get plenty of time to talk, but eventually it hits her that she hasn’t danced yet and she’s like “Come on! I bet we can make the prince jealous!” and he just bursts out laughing at that like “hell yeah, let’s make the prince jealous. He’s a real asshole.” Like clearly she’s having a good time, so who is he to make it weird? So they head back to the ballroom and they dance. And our girl, Mystery Girl, Cinderella, while they’re dancing, becomes acutely aware that everyone is staring. That doesn’t seem quite right. Like, yeah she’s hot, she knows she’s hot, but at least a good third of the party should still be focused on the prince, right? Where is that guy, anyway?
Oh.
Oh wait.
Oh shit.
And Princey Boy actually picks up on her realization and they whisper argue for like 3 minutes. “Why didn’t you tell me?! Now I feel like a goddamn idiot!” “I dunno it was nice being treated like a normal person” “Well me treating you like a normal person makes me a goddamn felon or something did you consider that?!” “Hey--Hey--it’s cool--you’re cool--I think you’re amazing, and if anyone says shit about you, I can shut it down.” “Well I don’t like that! That’s fucked up!” “I agree. It is fucked up, but I believe in you, and I think you should have a chance, and I’m here to back you up. I know power is fucked up right now. I know. But are you cool with working with me to change that?” And our girl Cindy pauses on that for a couple seconds, because.. she’s just spent hours with this guy and like.. she knows he’s a good guy, she knows he means well, so she’s like, “I don’t know how long I can actually work with you.” and the prince is like “Look, I know your home situation is complicated right now, but I really think we can--”
And then the bell starts ringing.
It’s midnight.
And then she takes off in a panic, and our prince just met the coolest person ever, and like, he’s pretty sure whatever situation they’re headed back to is fucked up, and all he’s got going to find her is a shoe. A shoe. 
94,718 notes - Posted January 29, 2022
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