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fbfh · 11 months

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curiosity is a wonderful thing - ch. 6

wc: 2.8k

genre: slowburn, best friends to lovers, painful tooth rotting fluff

pairing: Audrey x Ben, eventual Ben x daughter of alice!reader

warnings: ben's deeply repressed feelings looming ominously in the distance, audrey being an absolute bitch but what's new, op fixing the lore with nail glue and packing tape, Evie is a fucking icon as always

summary: After a long day fighting your way through a mountain of paperwork, you find yourself unable to sleep. Sneaking into ben's room always does the trick. Mal can't find a love spell in her spell book, but she finds something that should work almost as well.

song recs: spring fever - sub urban

a/n: the one thing that pisses me off is that there is no canonical use of love spells in the disney universe outside of descendants. they literally don't exist. genie says no making someone fall in love with someone else. you'd think they would know their own lore /lh

anyway fangz to cici as always (i am so sorry about buggy) and also as always, an optional fit for your viewing pleasure

tags @yesv01 @magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @strawberry-cake1 @dustyinkpages @kiara7777

You spend the next several hours by Ben’s side as you bounce between various meetings, and of course, your etiquette lessons that you’ve been attending since you were no older than a twizzleroot blossom. They're not really etiquette lessons, not anymore. They were when you were young, you would attend a few times a week with all the other kids your age. You’d learn how to drink tea, how to write thank you notes, and all the other things you need to know to feel comfortable in royal high society settings. By the end of middle school, most of your peers were no longer in attendance.

You and Ben, however, used the opportunity to learn about more and more of the nuanced aspects of politics, social graces, and media training. Your parents were both glad for this, and since you seemed on track to be real politicians and not just socialites, it was a perfect fit. However, saying that you have to go to your class for advanced political studies, world history, social graces, and media training is a little too clunky for your taste. You and Ben never grew out of calling them etiquette lessons, so the name stuck to this day.

On this day in particular, you now find yourself sitting next to Ben at a large table in one of the many makeshift conference rooms on campus. You’ve been in and out of meetings and lessons and debriefings about the Isle kids’ arrival, and now you’ve finally made it nearly to the end of your to do list. Ben insisted you didn’t need to stay late with him to do all this paperwork, but you insisted equally as much that you wouldn’t dream of leaving him to do it all himself. Now as Ben skims the monotonous text, signing on lines and initialing boxes, you dig through a seemingly endless database of forms, trying to find the right one.

You bounce increasingly obscure form titles back and forth for a few minutes. After coming up with nothing, Ben lets out an amiable laugh. He should have expected something that seems straightforward would take at least ten times as long as it should. That’s government for you, that’s what his dad would say. A knock at the door draws both your attention, and Jane pokes her head in awkwardly. She tucks a section of her dark blunt bob behind her ear, then speaks nervously.

“Uh, hi. My mom sent me,” she says in a quiet, hesitant voice. “She said she’s going to be about half an hour late. There was a problem with some ducks in the forest, or something?”

Ben smiles at her politely.

“Thanks, Jane.” Ben says politely. Jane nods and leaves quickly, fussing with her short hair. You let out a puff of air from between your lips.

“Even more delays…” you murmur, clicking onto page 23 out of 66 of forms to look through. “How fun.”

Ben chuckles, agreeing as he stands up to stretch his legs. He walks around for a moment, and turns on an extra lamp. It’s starting to get dark out, and the last thing either of you need right now is eye strain. Wait, it’s already getting dark out? He stops in his tracks.

“Shit.” He mutters, reaching for his phone on the table. He completely forgot about dinner with Audrey, but he has to find these forms and get them filled out tonight. You try not to look like you're listening too closely as the phone rings, but Audrey’s voice is quite hard to ignore. Before he can greet her, she’s already demanding to know where he is and why he’s late.

“No, no. I- I didn’t forget. I… well… uh, no. It’s-” Ben rambles around Audrey’s interjections. He gets up, pacing around a little, and walking across the room away from you. He doesn’t want you to have to hear this.

“We’re just running behind. No- No! I would never intentionally… stand you up… I-”

“Right!” Audrey snaps on the other end, forcing a smile. “Well then. Maybe we should just cancel!”

“Wh- uh, okay. I- I’ll make it up to you. We can… uh, later this week? We’ll - before the next tourney meet? I…”

Ben sighs and pulls his phone away, looking at the screen. Call ended. He walks back over to the table, sitting down to continue trudging through the task at hand. You wordlessly slide a teacup over toward him, the colorful porcelain filled with warm chai, perfectly sweetened. He cracks a smile, and accepts the cup.

“Thanks, bunny.” He says quietly. You hum warmly in response. You settle back into your comfortable silence, trudging through forms and digging through documents. As you sit across from each other, the pile of completed paperwork steadily grows taller. Hours pass, and you don’t realize how late it is until you’re finally ready to call it quits for tonight. You stumble through your bedtime routine, grateful that you have your muscle memory to carry you through. As soon as your head hits your soft pillow… nothing happens. You toss and turn for a few minutes, trying to get comfortable, then let out an irritated sigh. You managed to get through such a long day and mountains of paperwork, and you still can’t sleep.

In the opposite wing of the dorms, Ben has no trouble winding down. He’s cozy in his silky royal blue and daffodil yellow sheets, and he’s satisfied with a long day of hard, productive work. He lets out a soft breath, feeling himself teetering on the brink of sleep. Then he hears his door creak open. Soft, muffled footsteps creep across the wood floor, then grow silent as they meet the expansive carpet covering the majority of the floor. He doesn’t move, doesn’t open his eyes, but he can feel someone crouching next to his bed.

“...Ben?”

He cracks a smile at the sound of your voice, how quiet and tiny you sound in the lateness of the night. You smile a little too when you see him fighting a little grin. After a moment, he answers.

“Yes bunny?”

“Are you asleep?” You ask carefully. You wait in the darkness for him to answer.

“Yes.”

You smile at his sarcastic response, letting out a little breathy giggle through your nose. You kick off your bunny slippers - complete with little tophats - and crawl into bed next to Ben. He’s already scooching over and lifting up the blankets for you, pulling them over your shoulders the way he knows you like.

He doesn’t need to ask if you couldn’t sleep, he already knows you couldn’t. You’ve been doing this, sneaking in for sleepovers when insomnia gets the best of you, for as long as he can remember. Something about his presence comforts you, relaxes you through even the longest, most never ending nights. No matter how tired he is, he’s always happy to be there for you on nights like tonight, he’s always happy to keep you warm and talk you to sleep.

And that’s just what he does. He lets you lead the conversation, rambling about whatever springs to mind, emptying out your brain so you can rest. He’d like to think he knows you pretty well by now. He knows just what to do to help you settle down, to give you the best chance of having a restful night. It’s no surprise to him that you mostly seem to be thinking about the Isle kids.

“I mean, this is real. Our actions mean they get a chance at a better life.” You mutter drowsily. Your cheek is squished against his pillow and your words are heavy with fatigue. Ben can’t help but think it makes your Wonderland accent that much… cuter.

“Yeah,” He agrees. He traces his hand along your back soothingly. He glances down and notices you’re wearing the white button down shirt you sometimes wear as a pajama top. He asked you about it once, and you said it made you think of him. He smiles a little as he settles back into his pillows.

“I just hope they’ll be able to assimilate well.” You say, a tone of worry now present in your words. “The only thing worse than doing nothing would be having their decisions made for them because of social pressure…”

“We’ll keep a close eye out for that.” Ben says. His voice is husky and drowsy. It fills you with warmth, with an appreciation for him and the way he stays up with you even though you know how tired he must be. You nod a little, then find yourself rambling again.

“I just wish there was a way to guarantee that they felt welcome and not… ostracized.” You mumble. You inch closer to him, snuggling into his warm chest and listening to his soothing heartbeat. It speeds up almost imperceptibly as you do.

“Make sure they know that we know them as people. As individuals, and not just…” You continue, cutting yourself off with a yawn. You stretch a little as you do, then curl back up. Ben looks down at you, smiling a little at how sweet you are, at how clingy you get when you’re sleepy.

“As the children of their parents…” You finish. Ben hums in agreement. He notices how heavy your eyes are getting, how your speech is slowing, how the flow of your thoughts have gone from a fully blasting garden hose to a subtly dripping kitchen sink. You’re about to fall asleep, which means he can let himself sleep too. He couldn’t have gone to bed before now if he wanted to. If he knows you can’t sleep, he won’t be able to either. But feeling your soft breaths across his skin, feeling the way your chest rises and falls as his hand lays comfortingly on your side, knowing that you’re warm and safe here, with him… Ben feels more relaxed than he has in a long time. Probably since… the last time you couldn’t sleep.

Sometimes when it’s just the two of you like this, all drowsy and late at night, in the moments before he falls asleep, Ben sometimes gets… weird thoughts. Weird, random, impulsive thoughts that are not at all like him. Totally out of left field stuff, like… wanting to kiss you. Like, really, really wanting to kiss you. Sometimes that turns into wanting to hold you, too. And not like this, not holding you platonically, like a best friend, but… holding you a different way. Maybe wanting to hold you tight in his arms, and lay you down in his big, silky bed, and…

Ben squeezes his eyes shut tight for a moment before relaxing his face. He puts a manual stop to that train of thought, absolutely refusing to let it continue anymore. He won’t entertain it, he won’t let it heat up his cheeks anymore. He doesn’t like thinking things like that about anyone, and he certainly won’t let himself think anything like that about you. He sighs softly. These crazy thoughts will be gone by the morning. They always are. They have to be.

Besides, it’s so late, he won’t even remember this by the time he wakes up. That’s what he always tells himself. The last thing he would never admit to anyone - not even to himself - surfaces right before he falls asleep. It must be the late hour, where everything vulnerable feels completely abstract and intangible, but he thinks it’s a lot easier to stop himself from thinking those things about Audrey than it is to stop thinking those things about you.

While you and Ben drift off to sleep, safe and sound in each other’s arms, someone else is wide awake. Sitting in the dorm she shares with Evie, Mal sits on her bed, scouring her spell book exactly like she’s been doing since Ben left earlier that afternoon. After hours of hitting brick wall after brick wall, Mal is met with the back cover of the book. Again. She lets out a frustrated noise, and flips back to the beginning.

“There’s not a single love spell in this whole fucking book!” She exclaims. She looks over the first few pages, reading them more closely in hopes that she somehow missed something. Evie sits across the room in front of a lit up mirror, plucking meticulously at her eyebrows.

“Are we…” She winces, then inspects her skin and eyebrows again. “Are we sure we need a love spell?”

Mal rolls her eyes at the question. Yes, obviously they need a love spell. Evie is oblivious to her irritation, and continues thinking out loud around her careful use of the sharp tweezers in her hand.

“I could… just work my charm on him. All it would take is one look into my…” Another wince. “Hypnotizing eyes, and he’d be wrapped around my finger.”

She leans back, taking a final look at her work, more satisfied with her appearance now.

“I mean, he’s not really my type, but…” she shrugs, and looks at Mal, waiting for some kind of reaction from her. Mal doesn’t look up at Evie’s eyebrows, she just keeps digging through her book and ignoring the sound of Carlos and Jay playing videogames.

“No, we need a spell. This has to work. It has to be foolproof.”

Evie grabs a jade roller and some hydrating gel. She still can’t believe how amazing the makeup and the skincare in Auradon is. She hasn’t seen one half wilted aloe plant, and this gel is infused with roses from Aurora’s moors, glacier water from Arendelle, and caviar fished from the Caribbean. She can’t wait to get her hands on a decent blush, and a lip liner that doesn’t double as eyeliner and an eyebrow pencil.

Evie notices the scowl on Mal’s face as she hunches over the spell book. Normally she would scold Mal for making faces that will give her wrinkles, but now that she has her hands on retinol, hyaluronic acid, and hydrocolloid patches, she can fix any stress wrinkles Mal brings upon herself. After what feels like an eternity of searching the same pages over and over, something catches Mal’s eye, causing her to stop in her tracks. It’s more of her mothers rambling annotations and scrawled notes, this time on the topic of hypnosis.

Hypnosis can be useful as long as you’re stealthy with it. Jafar got sloppy, he kept hypnotizing that stupid sultan over and over, not bothering to use hypnosis for it’s true purpose - a means to an end. If you’re an evil genius like I am, and you use hypnosis sparingly, no one will be the wiser. Don’t get me started on that oversized calamari - Ursula has to be the best example of what not to do when you’re hypnotizing a bonehead prince to make him think he’s in love with you. Something as easily breakable as a necklace? Please. Besides, everyone knows the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

Her mother’s scratchy handwriting goes on for a while, some anecdote about her and Mal’s father, something she’d rather not read. Ever. She thinks back to what Evie said about wrapping Ben around her finger, and in one desperately needed moment of clarity, everything falls into place. A plan begins to form in her mind.

“This… this could work.” She says. Those three, quietly spoken words get the attention of everyone in the room. Evie sets down her gua sha stone, and Carlos pauses their videogame. They all walk over, hesitant and eager to hear what Mal figured out. Mal lets out a laugh of disbelief. It seems so simple now, she wonders why she didn’t think of it sooner. She can just hypnotize Ben into falling in love with her. She can trick him into thinking that he loves Mal more than he’s ever loved Audrey, then - boom! Front row seats to coronation, which means front row seats to stealing the wand out from under their noses.

While Mal silently hashes out the details so she can tell her friends, Evie inspects her cuticles. She really should push them back. She stands up, grabbing a cuticle pusher and an orange wood stick from her pencil cup before making her way back over to Mal’s bed. As the three of them wait with bated breath, Mal looks over the hypnosis spell again and again. After a few moments, she tucks a piece of paper between the pages, marking her spell to reference later. She slams the book shut, and looks up at her friends.

“Come on guys. Let’s go bake some cookies.”

#curiosity is a wonderful thing #ben florian #ben florian x reader #descendants #descendants x reader #liddell!reader

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userpeggycarter · 8 months

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hiiiiiiiiii 🥺 i can't believe i've reached this milestone, it's still wild to me i have even one follower at all let alone 4k of them. i'm so grateful for you all being interested in my blog and my work, you make the internet so fun for me! and i'm even more grateful for the friends i've made here, even if we don't talk much or at all ❤️

to celebrate such a milestone, i will create using YOUR prompts! 🥳

to participate, you have to follow me (duh) and send me an emoji + prompt:

🌈 based on your url 🎨 my favorite creations (any type) of yours (mutuals only) ❤️ blog appreciation let me gush about you and your blog! (mutuals only) 🎥 send me a show (+ episode?) or film 🔮 send me a theme (character, ship, genre, celebrity, etc.) in general 🎵 send me a theme + lyrics/quotes 🌗 make me pick between X or Y (anything) 👽 misc. (icons, headers, graphics, other categories, etc) 🐶i'll post a picture of my dog Evie! :)

you can send as many as you want! there's no deadline for sending requests, for now at least, i'll edit this post when i decide an end date!

i can't promise exactly when i'll finish your request or if i will make them at all due to Life™️ and/or if i get too many of them, but i promise you i will try my best. i also want to say in beforehand thank you to anyone who wants to participate in my celebration, ilu 💘

if you don't know what to ask but want to participate anyway, here's a list of things i like and i'm willing to gif. you can also check my film & television tags or navigation page in general (a bit out of date 🙈). you can also ask me for suggestions, it's no problem at all!

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hannahssimblr · 9 days

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thanks @sirianasims for the tag!! It was hard to come up with something, seeing as my story is the way that it is, but anyway.

This was fun and I am curious what y'all will pick, because even those who read Lucky Girl don't truly know the answers to any of these hehehe

Tag yourself if you haven't been tagged already! I'm going to tag @rebouks @earthmoonz @thebramblewood @swiftviolets and @honeyjars-sims

#tag game #2 truths and a lie

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fallenclan · 10 months

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"Okay, so I'm Bluefire and you can be my apprentice, Newtpaw. We're training to prepare for-"

"Apprentice? No. I want to be a warrior."

"Then what's your warrior name?"

"Newtscratch."

"Okay, Newtscratch. . . " Bluekit crouched, wriggling her haunches. "Then I'm an enemy warrior coming to attack you! Raaaah!"

Newtkit rolled out of the way just in time as Bluekit lunged for her, resulting in Bluekit pouncing face-first into the ground with a tiny oof! Newtkit snickered, swiping at Bluekit's tail. "Some warrior you are. Maybe you should be the apprentice."

Without warning, Bluekit sprang to her paws, slamming her head into Newtkit's chest and knocking her off balance. Before Newtkit could so much as open her mouth, Bluekit had pinned her to the ground. "Admit that I'm the better warrior, Newtscratch!"

"Never!" Newtkit squeaked indignantly. She swatted at Bluekit's face, jabbing her hind legs into Bluekit's belly at the same time.

"Ow!" Bluekit scrambled off of Newtkit, wincing. Newtkit stuck out her tongue, which only caused Bluekit to start giggling.

"Bluekit!" Rabbitkit, who had been haring around the camp with the other kits up until this point, scrambled to a halt in front of his littermate. "Can I play with you and Newtkit? Molekit's being mean to me again."

"No," Newtkit sniffed. "I only want to play with Bluekit."

"Bluefire," Bluekit corrected helpfully.

Rabbitkit turned a pleading gaze towards Bluekit. "Please?"

"I don't see why not. Playing warriors is more fun with three cats than two, anyway." Bluekit could have sworn she noticed a brief flash of hurt in Newtkit's gaze, but it was gone almost as soon as it appeared.

"Fine. Whatever."

"Don't be mad, Newtkit," Bluekit whispered. "You're still my best friend."

"Forever?"

"Forever."

...

Bluepaw padded into the medicine den and was immediately greeted with the soft smell of lilac. Silverbelly had taken to decorating the den with it in an attempt to block out the more unsavory herb scents, such as garlic.

"Bluepaw." Newtpaw's head immediately turned towards the other apprentice, ears perking. She had to fight to keep a smile off her muzzle.

"Hey, Newtpaw. I brought you a thrush. Caught it myself!" Bluepaw flopped down beside Newtpaw with a dull thump, shamelessly pressing her pelt against Newtpaw's in a way that made Newtpaw's heart flutter.

"Thanks." Newtpaw inspected the thrush instead of dissecting her feelings, picking feathers off its wings.

"Your wound has almost healed, right?"

"Yeah. Silverbelly says it'll probably scar, though."

"Cool!"

"I guess." Newtpaw took a bite from her thrush, chewing slowly.

"My ma says you were doing really well with your training. Your warrior ceremony will probably only be delayed one moon."

"One moon feels like an eternity," Newtpaw huffed, knocking her head into Bluepaw's shoulder. "And you'll be a warrior while I'm still an apprentice!"

"Only for a little bit. Maybe I should start flunking my assessments so we can be warriors at the same time?"

It took Newtpaw a few moments to realize Bluepaw was joking (she wasn't), and upon realizing she only rolled her eyes. "Just don't do anything stupid or exciting without me, okay?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Bluepaw promised solemnly.

"Mousebrain," Newtpaw scoffed, but she was grinning nonetheless.

...

"--and this is the honey spruce," Bluefern announced.

"Why's it called that?" Evie tilted his head, peering up at the great tree. It stood out starkly in the meadow, despite there being plenty of other spruce trees nearby.

"There's a bee's nest. Can't you see it?" Newtscar flicked her tail towards one of the tree's highest branches. "Unless you want a mouthful of bees, I'd suggest you keep your distance."

"Oh." Evie's eyes widened. "Have either of you ever tasted honeycomb?"

Bluefern and Newtscar exchanged glances. "No," Bluefern replied. "Have you?"

"No, but I've heard it tastes really good."

"Good to know," Newtscar mewed sarcastically. "We should move on, unless you want to spend all day gawking at one tree?"

"I think I could get us some honey," Evie stated, gaze never leaving the bee's nest. "I'll just wait until all the bees are out collecting pollen, and then I'll sneak up and swipe some of it. They'll never even notice."

"That's a stupid plan," Newtscar retorted at the same time Bluefern exclaimed, "You're brilliant!"

Later, Evie was confined to the medicine den after receiving many, many bee stings. (He didn't manage to obtain any honey.)

...

"You like-e-e-e-e him," Bluefern cackled, causing Newtscar to swipe at her ears.

"You like him too!" Newtscar hissed.

"Well, yeah, but it's more embarassing that you like him."

"Shut up, Bluefern."

Bluefern did not shut up.

...

"Oh." Bluefern had only found herself speechless a rare few times in her life. This was one of them. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! I wouldn't have asked you to be my mate if I didn't like you." Newtscar was beginning to feel the telltale signs of panic. Does she not like me back? Why won't she stop staring at me with that stupid, dumbstruck expression?

"Uh," Bluefern replied intelligently.

"Do you not feel the same way?"

"No, no! I do. I want to be mates." Bluefern shoved her face so close to Newtscar's that their noses were practically touching. "You just caught me off guard."

"Why?" Newtscar flattened her ears but didn't move, secretly enjoying Bluefern's proximity.

"I thought you had a thing for Evie."

"I thought you had a thing for Evie," Newtscar fired back, suddenly defensive.

"I mean, I do." Bluefern leaned back. "I like you both."

"Can cats have more than one mate?"

"I think so. I mean, why not?" Bluefern shrugged. "As long as we're all honest with each other. You like Evie too, right?"

"Unfortunately." Newtscar sighed.

"Then maybe the three of us can be mates."

"Maybe," Newtscar assented, thinking for the first time that perhaps it didn't need to be two against the world. Perhaps it could be three.

...

"I like you both a lot. . ."

"We know."

"Shhh, Newtscar! He's confessing." Bluefern shoved Newtscar. "Please continue."

A playful smirk was beginning to tug at Evie's features, and the tom felt himself emboldened by Bluefern's encouragement. "So I was wondering if you two-"

"Yes," Newtscar interrupted. "But if you snore I'll change my mind."

"Okay. That's fair." Evie and Bluefern were both purring while Newtscar was doing her best to look indifferent.

She failed. (The three proceded to have a long discussion about what the future would look like, with all three of them as mates.)

...

Mistyfish's fever wasn't going down. She had been sick for moons, her symptoms only getting worse and worse. Surely, surely, she would recover. Bluefern couldn't let herself think any differently.

Outside, Newtscar and Evie were engaged in a hushed conversation with Stormsight and Silverbelly.

Mistyfish was gazing vacantly at Bluefern. "Ma? Don't come too close. I could get you sick."

"I don't care, sweetling." Bluefern wrapped herself around Mistyfish, around her precious kit. "It's going to be okay."

"Sweetling . . . ?"

"Your grandma used to call my littermates and I that, sometimes."

"Oh." Mistyfish snuggled closer to Bluefern. "I like it. It's nice." The smell of sickness wafted about the den in a thick, permeating cloud. Bluefern did her best to ignore it.

"It'll be okay, Mistykit," she repeated, not even noticing her slip-up.

"Okay, Ma. I believe you." Mistyfish closed her eyes, letting out a soft breath as she drifted off to sleep.

Mistyfish never woke up.

...

"His name is Sunnykit. He's sleeping right now, but I'll introduce you in the morning." Willowsplash's gaze was brimming with love, as if she had already spent a thousand lifetimes being this kit's mother.

"Looks like we're grandparents. . . again," Evie grinned, placing emphasis on again.

"Newtscar is going to be so excited!" Bluefern exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement herself.

"I don't think Mom's ever been excited about anything," Willowsplash chimed in, causing Evie to snort in amusement.

"Well, she'll be excited about this," Bluefern decided firmly.

"We'll see," Evie replied, giving Willowsplash's shoulder a reassuring lick. "I'm proud of you, kiddo."

"Thanks, Dad."

...

"We have matching scars now." Sleepycloud chuckled. In truth, his face still stung where the ShallowClan warrior had raked her claws. She had missed his eyes by less than a spider-leg. Likely, she had been attempting to blind him. The thought was disconcerting.

"I wouldn't call them matching." Newtscar was inspecting her son's new scars, triple checking that they had healed right and weren't going to start gushing blood at any moment. "I still don't see why you won't at least describe the cat who did this to you."

"Mom."

"What? I just want to give them a 'matching' scar of their own," Newtscar sniffed, expression never changing.

"I don't even remember what she looked like," Sleepycloud lied, trying to get Newtscar to let it go, though he knew it was a futile effort. She was like a bloodhound when she caught scent of something she felt was important.

"She? So it was a she-cat?"

"Mom!"

...

"What mischief are you two plotting?" Newtscar narrowed her eyes, gaze flicking skeptically between Pebblefreeze and Evie.

"Us? Mischief? How could you accuse your loving mate and darling daughter of anything treacherous?" Evie gasped dramatically, feigning hurt. Newtscar was unimpressed.

"You both have your 'scheming' faces on. I know because you got it from your father," Newtscar grumbled at Pebblefreeze, shooting a pointed glance at Evie.

"Did she?" Evie drawled.

"She did."

"I did not," Pebblefreeze pouted, nose scrunching up in the same way that Newtscar's did when she was annoyed. "We haven't done anything. Yet."

"StarClan help me," Newtscar muttered. Evie shot Pebblefreeze a conspiratorial wink.

...

"I still think about them." Bluefern didn't want to cry. She couldn't. Yet she could feel her gaze watering as she stared up at the pelt of stars spanning the sky.

Newtscar pressed herself against Bluefern's side, and Evie wrapped his tail around both of them.

"What would their names have been?" Bluefern continued. "Would they have been warriors? Medicine cats? Mediators? Why couldn't we save them?"

"There wasn't anything we could have done, Bluefern," Evie murmured.

"Wasn't there? Why did we let Curly defend the nursery?" Bluefern's voice wobbled. "One of us should have stayed behind."

"Then maybe one of us could have died," Newtscar replied gently. "Who knows what would have happened? The past is past, Bluefern. It's too late."

"I know." Bluefern squeezed her eyes shut. "I know."

The three stayed there for half of the night, pressed together in their silent grief over the three that were lost too young.

Ravenkit. Icekit. Smokekit.

Three stars shining down upon three parents.

...

"So, you and Cherrydust, huh?"

"Dad!" Ripplefade hissed, mortified. "Lower your voice. Someone could hear you."

"What? I'm just saying. Being mates with the deputy is no small thing," Evie chuckled.

"She isn't my mate, Dad."

"You like her though, right?"

"Pebblefreeze likes her too! Why don't you go harass her?" Ripplefade kicked a pebble across camp. Where were his mothers when he needed them?

"Eh. Pebblefreeze doesn't fluster so easily. You're fun to tease." Evie nudged Ripplefade affectionately. "I could go talk to her for you, if you're too nervous. . ."

"No!"

. . .

"You drooled on my fur last night," Newtscar complained, running her tongue over her matted shoulder fur.

"Probable. I woke up with a mouthful of your fur, anyhow."

"Ugh."

"Guys, look. Cherrydust is calling patrols," Bluefern chirped. "Think she knows to put us together?"

"Of course. It'll always be the three of us. We're iconic," Evie grinned.

"Hm. Maybe she'll let us hunt near the Sky Pine. I hear prey's good down there lately," Newtscar spoke, finishing her pelt cleaning with a few final licks.

"As long as you don't get stuck up there," Bluefern purred.

"That was one time, Bluefern," Newtscar grumbled.

"Don't worry, Newtscar. If you get stuck, Bluefern and I will rescue you."

"Both of you stop talking."

Neither of them stopped talking.

Newtscar didn't mind.

-🐉

(whoop whoop, the polycule! last of the three requests. hope i did these guys justice in a collection of moments w/ them and their kits teehee

they're so silly i love them)

DRAGON YOU DID THEM JUSTICE AND SO MUCH MORE OH MY GOD MY HEART,,, THIS IS SO UNBELIEVABLY PERFECT HOLY FUCK.

"you like him too!" "yeah but its more embarrassing that you like him" ITS SO THEMMM ITS SO THEM IM ON THE FLOOR SCREAMING CRYING. google how to get a fic tattooed onto the insides of your eyelids

#fallenasks #fallenfic #dragon anon

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panthera-tigris-venenata · 5 months

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Okay since I'm apparently not getting anything done today and I finally named the Tremaine girlies, have some Evie & Tremaines & Charmings drama for Soulmark AU.

Okay so. Evil Queen should have a power to fake soulmarks via magic alchemy or what. Y'know, as a little treat.

Since Ursula got the ability to see souls (for drama purposes), it is only fair EQ can have some fun too.

Also I gotta figure out some soulfuckery for the Faciliers too.

Anyway. She passed this knowledge on to her daughter. Banishment does that to you, yeah? She was bored. Also, Evie is her heiress, not her husband's daughter.

Banishment - Evie spent ten years with only her mother. Now she's entering the Isle society with zero knowledge of the Drama (tm) and in dire need of an alliance.

And, you know. A soulmark would make for a neat alliance. It's like marriage alliance but on crack. And she has a very convenient means to fake it as she wishes.

She goes for Anthony Tremaine, the reasons being "reasonably pretty, rich for Isle standards, runs a neutral territory"

Now, Anthony already has two soulmarks. However, Evie doesn't know that.

She learns this by Anthony going "Again?" And his cousins teasing him about getting a harem and whatanot.

... this scene also includes Anthony and Dulcia having to explain what "foreplay" is to the younger ones. For closely unspecified reasons.

„Wait, have Harriet and Ginny stopped trying to kill one another? I though it was like foreplay or something.“ „Not really, they have not.“ „So it IS like foreplay?“

Evie reacts to this by saying „Okay I'm not doing that, I faked the mark, I'm gonna give you the tincture to make it go away tomorow.“

The Tremaine girlies want the tincture to fake soulmarks.

Anthony desperately does NOT want them to get it.

Unfortunately he does NOT get a say as Evie still wants the alliance. So she gives them the potion-thingy. (You spread it on your skin and if you touch other person's skin, it'll react and leave a mark that looks like a soulmark.)

Evie is now basically adopted by the Tremaine girls. It's adorable.

(it's not. It's terrifying)

And when she gets to Auradon, well, let's just say. This girl has a type.

The type being "Rich, influential, and owns a lot of mirrors".

So yes, she immediately goes for Chad Charming.

Now, I cannot emphasise this enough, they're SO bad for eachother and for everyone around.

Chad thinks he's using her and meanwhile she's looking at him with poorly concealed murder in her eyes. She thinks she should have added "can carry out a semblance of inteligent conversation" to her list.

The Tremaine girls support her anyway, they think it's funny.

And NO Evie will not be dumping him. She's Evil Queen's daughter. She can save actual feeling for extramarital affairs and not get caught, please and thank you. Or maybe just kill him once ut won't be too suspicious.

In fact, Anthony has a bet going on when the murder is gonna occur. He didn't tell that his sisters and cousins, though the reaction of the older ones would be along the lines of "Well good for her" and "Girl power" and "Slay, queen." (You see, they younger ones would be upset.)

#disney descendants #Soulmark au #evie descendants #anthony tremaine #chad charming

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astronomiaa · 11 months

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Headcanon (theory?): Jacob's shilling necklace was actually Cecily's

It feels like there's always been a bit of a mystery to why Jacob wears the shilling necklace, ranging from it could just be a unique design choice or Jacob keeping a lucky coin on him since he has a tendency to try his luck. It's always felt like it's held some sort of significance - at least to me? Jacob's seen wearing the necklace even before he and Evie head to London, when he's still wearing his Simply Jacob outfit (his starter-mon outfit, if you will). A physical copy of the necklace was also included for anyone who pre-ordered Syndicate.

So it's kind of bumbled around in my head, until I discovered victorian love tokens while doing some research and it's like the dots have connected.

For anyone who doesn't know, like I didn't, love tokens were coins that were handcarved by a family member, a suitor to be, or friends, and given to a recipient to convey feelings. They weren't just romantic! They have a long history, but the victorians were crazy for them and love tokens became a pretty popular physical embodiment of ones love for another person. (Especially so, because they were usually made using coins - and the British already had a tradition of keeping lucky coins in their pocket? Fun!)

Most often they would be carved with names and dates, words to describe the relationship between the two, etc. In rarer cases (or at least considered rare to find for collectors of today), they would be carved with pictures that would be symbolically important for the giver and recipient.

I bring this up because for anyone who was lucky enough to receive an actual Jacob Pendant from ubisoft, or just bought of a replica off like... etsy or something, you know that Jacob's pendant actually has the Assassin symbol carved onto it.

In my opinion, this definitely makes the shilling a token of some sort! It could possibly be a token carried by all English Assassins, a way to recognize one another, but I like to believe that it may have been a romantic gift from Ethan to Cecily. After all, they were both two VERY devoted Assassins who were considered to have come the closest to freeing London from Templar rule before Henry, Jacob, and Evie. Whatever reason for the token, we can at least assume the token was Cecily's!

How do we know it's Cecily's? How it's meant to be worn!

Since tokens were made out of coins, which were in turn made out of semi precious metals, tokens could be turned into jewelry. It was common for women to wear them as bracelets, pendents, necklaces, and earrings. Men would wear them as cufflinks and put them on watch chains.

Jacob's shilling pendant is well... a pendant. It's traditionally womens jewelry (though I don't think Jacob could care any less about the way jewelry is meant to be worn in relation to gender).

So yeah! Even if I'm connecting dots that may not quite be there, the thought of Jacob having something of Cecily's is... nice. Especially since... Ethan and Jacob did not have uh, the best of relationships.

Anyways, thanks for reading my silly lil headcanon and have a nice day!

#weeeeee #jacob frye #cecily frye #assassin's creed #assassins creed syndicate #astra talks

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everwitch-magiks · 4 months

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OKAY EVIE. The epic rivalry between a flashy spellcaster and the person who has to complete all the restoration paperwork after the quest is complete. xoxo MJ/kiwiana-writes

Why, hello MJ! Wow, time flies. How about we don't think too hard about how it’s been five or so months since I reblogged this ask game and you sent me this ask.

There is something of a reason why this took me an amount of time: so I decided to make this one more fun by fleshing it out into a little story and also telling it in reverse order. The latter turned out a little challenging. But without further yapping, here it is. Five fun facts from (... more like parts of) a spellcaster/spell restorator (that's a word, right?) AU, told from ending to beginning. Enjoy! ♡

5. Except the very next day, Alex receives a handwritten letter sealed with wax. The seal is the Fox family's. The penmanship is delicate and measured, nothing like the radiant man Alex knows is behind it.

The letter contains both an apology and an invitation. Henry is asking Alex to meet him on the summit of the mountain.

(Alex does.)

4. It goes on like that for months. Henry keeps stopping by, keeps lingering, keeps laughing at Alex's jokes - even when they're mediocre. There's something there. Something beneath the surface. Something that's slowly blossomed this whole time.

One morning, Henry comes early. Before one of his quests. He wants to know if he may visit Alex late that evening, after his return. 'The sunset will be pretty at that time of day. Perhaps we could get up above the treetops to get a good view?'

Alex's heart races in his chest long after Henry has left.

But Henry doesn't come that night. Possibly, his quest went on for longer than he'd anticipated - or possibly, he found something more worthy of his time than Alex.

It'd make sense. Alex can't even claim he's surprised. A common restorator was never a good match for a legendary spellcaster.

3. Henry's pretty when he smiles. He's even prettier when he laughs. He's been spending more and more time simply sitting in Alex's kitchen between quests. It's a little unnerving. Henry has hundreds of admirers who'd happily entertain him during his time off - yet instead he's drinking tea at Alex's table, listening to Alex's rants about the incompetent archivists over at restoration headquarters.

'Anyway, I shouldn't bore you with the details-'

'I like it when you tell me the details.'

That's annoyingly sweet. 'Careful, Fox. I might fall a little bit in love with you.'

Henry's smile softens a fraction. 'I'm sure I shall find some way to bear that.'

Fuck.

Maybe Alex's fantasy of heading up the mountain with Henry could someday become reality.

2. Henry’s off on another quest. Something to do with a flock of wild unicorns inconveniencing a nearby village. Small stuff. If it'd been anyone else the paperwork would've been a piece of cake, but since it's Henry it'll probably take weeks.

Alex isn’t dealing with any of that today. He's off on a stroll up the mountain; the clearance to restore Henry’s most monumental mess hasn't come through yet, so Alex might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

Yet when Alex returns home, Henry is there. He's outside Alex's house. That's so odd. Henry hasn't deigned to stop by since they were first thrown together as partners from their respective guilds - even though, at the time, Alex had thought they'd hit it off pretty well.

Henry smiles bashfully when Alex says as much. 'Work has kept me very busy.'

Alex snorts. 'Yeah, well, me too. All thanks to you. You sure don't do things by halves.'

'... Maybe there's someone I've been trying to impress.'

Oh.

1. Alex has fucking had it.

He's knee-deep in trying to obtain clearance to reverse Henry’s latest disaster: a mountain moved from one side of the kingdom to the other while on a quest to save a young boy from a dragon. Moving mountains is a level five restoration. And moving it didn't even help with the fucking dragon. Ridiculous. Henry’s such a showoff.

Never mind that moving mountains is kind of impressive.

Never mind that the mountain is Alex’s favorite in the kingdom, and now the foot of it sits next to his backyard.

Alex’s whole life revolves around following Henry’s tracks and covering them up. And he’s damn good at it. Best in the guild. But sometimes, he wonders what the point of it all is if Henry always remains just out of reach.

Never mind that Alex told Henry once, in a moment of weakness, that he's always dreamt of being asked for his hand at the top of that very mountain. Henry probably doesn't even remember. And even if he does, it'll never be him who takes Alex up the mountain to make it a reality. That’s just a silly fantasy.

... There we have it! Thank you - belatedly - for the ask! ♡

#ask game #answered #a queen is never late everyone else is simply early

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choicesmc · 5 months

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CEDAR STATION - MEET THE MCs - DROP ONE

What’s this, you ask? Well, @aria-ashryver is doing this wonderful little series called Welcome to the Jungle! [here’s the latest episode], I thought it’d be a cool idea to make moodboards of all the MCs featured in the series. I also made this decision after episode two when there was only six MCs. Episode 3 added a couple more MCs whose moodboards regrettably will not be on this post. …Instead, they’ll be in the next post [DROP TWO] (<- I’ll link it here when it goes up.)

You cannot imagine the amount of fun I’ve had learning about all of y’all’s MCs and trying to create moodboards that are 1) cool and 2) reflect them and your vision of them. I hope I’ve done all these wonderful MCs literally any justice so without further ado onto the moodboards!

(It's under the read more)

ANITHA

tagging: @lover-also-fighter-also Can I just say? More Anitha content? Please? Especially about her childhood? Absolutely fell in love with the fact that she sings and plays soccer and used to ride motorcycles with her dad.

DORIAN

tagging: @/aria-ashryver (<- i wasn't sure whether or not tagging the same person multiple times in a post would show up multiple times in your notifs and didn't want to risk it)

Dorian is lovely. It's kind of embarrassing how many times I've poured over literally any mention of Dorian on your blog. I took the wants to be a hero and fucking ran with it. anyway please enjoy the fruit of my obsession.

EVIE

tagging: @cadybear420 Admittedly, you were expecting this. I wanted everything to be a surprise but I also wanted to make sure I especially got Evie right. I hope this one is miles better than the prototype I sent you like forever and more ago! (Can you tell l adore Evie's style? Can you?)

LUCA

tagging: @/aria-ashryver + @lilyoffandoms (that's their amazing work smack dab in the middle of the board!!)

Love Luca, don't think I can say much more than that about it 😭 (Wanna know the inspiration for the main background? -> Luca always having a cracked screen. the minute I saw that the rest of the board fell into place xD)

MARIANNA

tagging: @rosesnink

My stars. Prior to this project, I'd briefly come across Marianna in tidbits and snippets. I regret not knowing this brilliant woman sooner. I fell in love with her and your writing! It reminds me of soft kisses and secret trysts. Thank you so much!!

RIN

tagging: me + myself + i

look. I couldn't not include Rin??? I'd be a monster to do that!

So, really hope y'all like your moodboards! Like I said, I have another big post planned (though it'll take a hot minute before it drops xD) It was so so hard keeping myself quiet. You do not want to know how many times I almost leaked this 😭 or the urge to post each on individually!! But I am so glad I resisted! It's so much more fun in a big post like this :D

#gifts for friends #welcome to the jungle!

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offside-the-lines · 9 months

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tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier | Ep 5. Evie's Birthday

This is a completed series! Read Full Fic | 🧸 Series Cover Page/Masterlist 🧁 | 🎵 Playlist 🎶 << Previous Episode || Ep 5 || Next Episode >>

Chapter Summary: Sometimes the music moves you. Sometimes the bass pounding in your chest makes you do things you wouldn’t do. Fuck it, it’s your birthday. That’s what Evie tells herself anyway. There are gifts given, but there are also secrets kept.

A/N: You can refer to cover page for the series summary, author's notes, tropes, general warnings and other fun tidbits. This series contains mature themes. Minors DNI. Warning: mature content in the form of very sensual dancing, alcohol consumption. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team.

Word count: 5.6k // 44.5k

Requests (open) | Masterlist & Who I Write For | Join My Taglist

Evie’s Birthday

Tito — April 5

His conversation with Mat ran on a loop in his head; he had not thought about anything else for the last four days. Not on the flight back from New York. Not when he quietly crept into their— her bed. Not when he blankly stared at Instagram, rubbing her ankle that she had perched in his lap as she worked on her book. Not when they were cooking dinner together, working in practiced harmony. Not when she was cuddled up next to him on the couch, watching TV.

He could barely stop thinking about it during training, so distracted that he was missing passes and fumbling drills.

He curses Mat over and over again in his head for forcing him to think about the what-ifs. He curses Mat for making him question everything they do together and whether it’s just friendly. He curses Mat for making him look for signs in everything Evie did, any changes that might mean she may no longer think of him as just a friend.

Tito sighs, looking at the bartender pouring his drinks.

He should be careful not to drink too much; he has a back-to-back to play this weekend.

Tito downs both of the shots he ordered anyway.

PRYSM is a massive club filled to the brim with people on a Friday night. But no matter how crowded it is, when he walks back to the dancefloor, his eyes find her immediately. Tito can’t help that his eyes have been following Evie all evening as she dances with her friends; the way her body moves, so confident and carefree.

She looks happy. Tito’s glad that he decided to come to Evie’s birthday party despite his game tomorrow because he gets to see her look like this.

He stands to the side of the dancefloor, not ready to be pulled into her orbit again. She’s got her head thrown back, laughing easily at something Kelsey was saying. He thinks about the Evie he met on Christmas morning; she looks so much lighter now. It all but confirms for him what he has been thinking: he can’t tell her.

It would be selfish of him to tell her right as she’s starting to feel at home in Chicago, not after knowing how hard it was for her the first few months, how hard it was for her to feel like she belonged. But, here she is, with a small crowd of her friends, a mix of work friends, other writer friends, and even some of the couples from the team.

His thoughts are interrupted as he watches a man come up to her, whispering in her ear. He feels his guts twist and the vodka in his stomach taunting him.

Fuck— that’s new.

It feels like torture, but he can’t look away, even as they start dancing, moving closer together. The man’s hands are on her body— fuck. Tito’s thankful for the dulling blur of the vodka seeping into his mind. He thinks about just leaving for the briefest of seconds before he catches himself.

He’s only got sixteen more days with her. And he's not going to waste it on stupid, selfish jealousy. He made his choice, and he’s going to deal with the consequences. So, if that means being her wingman and feeling the pieces of his heart get torn out of his chest, it’ll be worth it for just a little more time.

Fifteen days and seven hours. The guilt rises in the back of his throat like bile; he still hasn’t told her he booked his flight. He swallows that down, too. Not on her birthday. He’s not going to ruin her birthday by making it about him.

Across the dancefloor, Evie’s eyes snap to him, and he has to breathe through the litany of emotions that bubble to the surface when she smiles so brightly at him. Having spotted him, she starts to push through the crowd towards him, her dancing partner forgotten. A small— evil— part of him rejoices.

“Tito! Oh my god, hey! Where the hell did you go? You were gone for fucking ages!”

“Bathroom, remember?”

She leans in close to his ear, her voice a low growl, “What? Were you getting a handy in there?”

He swallows and squeaks out, “What?”

She throws her head back and laughs, leaning into him, her hands landing on his chest. “You were in the bathroom for so long! I missed you.”

She beams up at him, and he fights the clench in his chest. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone for that long.”

She pulls away and studies his face, her eyes glistening in the club lights. “Hang on a second, did you get a drink without me?” she accuses, jabbing his chest lightly.

“Uh… yes?”

She gasps, “Anthony! It’s my birthday! That’s so rude.”

Her eyes are so wide, looking up at him so seriously that he can’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry, ma chouette. Tell you what, if you want a drink, we can go get you one now. I will pay for whatever top-shelf tequila you want.”

“You better!” she yells, dragging him away by his arm before he can even respond.

Evie —

Evie's pressed against the bar, protected from the pushing and shoving crowd by Tito’s solid body against her back. She’s waiting for their tequila shots when the thought occurs to her.

“Hey, Tito?” she glances back

“Yeah,” he leans in to hear her, filling her senses with his cologne.

“When did chouchou become chouette?”

He laughs, “Yeah, chouchou. Because you’re my cute little sugar-sweet owl. Big eyes, and so smart.”

She pouts, picking the only part she even remotely knows how to respond to. “I’m not that little.”

“To me, you are,” he says, tucking her under his chin. His body presses her into the bar, and the pressure sends a shiver down her spine. She’s glad that he can’t see the bright blush on her face.

“Fine, then. I get to call you something stupid, too.” She pauses as she thinks. “Solours. Like the yellow Care Bear.”

“Okay… The one with a smiling sun on its stomach? I’ll take that. It's so cute you remember his name,” he says, nuzzling her cheek with a laugh.

“At least you think I’m cute,” she tries to grumble.

She thinks she hears him say, “I really fucking do,” right as the bartender returns with their shots.

Tito spins her around and holds her hand in the non-existent space between them; he sprinkles some salt on it before handing her the lime and a shot. She waits for him to do his own hand but is caught watching his big hand move. She doesn’t realize she’s staring until her eyes flicker back up to meet his gaze, barely a foot from her face; his pupils swallow the normally serene blue as he focuses on her.

He holds her gaze as he licks the salt off his hand, slow and exaggerated, sending a prickling wave of heat through her body.

Her mouth dries up watching his throat bob as he swallows down the shot.

Her eyes snap up to his lips as they wrap around the lime, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucks on the juice.

When she follows a drop of juice roll slowly down his chin, she almost leans in to lick it away.

She’s able to snap herself out of it before she does something stupid. She quickly takes her own shot, blood rushing in her ears. Her whole body feels like a livewire, buzzing. She barely even tastes the harsh slide of the alcohol or the tart sting of the lime. Even though she’s been standing absolutely still, her breathing is heavy.

Although only the edges of her mind are hazy, it still feels like wading into honey as she tries to figure out what they're meant to be doing next.

She says the first sane thing that pops into her head.

“Did you know this place has another dance floor?”

“Oh yeah?” his mouth twitching.

“Yeah! I think it’s downstairs. It’s more for dancing; they move the tables on Fridays, so there’s more space.”

There’s something alight in his eyes as he takes a step back, taking her hand in his. “Let’s go then.”

His expression settles in what she can only call a smolder; it looks so sinful compared to his usual, sweet smile. Evie can’t help the nervous giggle that escapes from her. Seemingly satisfied, he leads the way, keeping her close to him as they move across the room, down the stairs, and into the thick press of bodies on the crowded dancefloor.

The music down here is different: dark and sensual. Once they’ve gone deep enough into the crowd, Tito pulls her close and loops her arms around his neck. She feels the tequila coursing through her veins; her body suddenly warm all over. She can’t help but lean into his space, breathing in the intoxicating concoction of his sweat and cologne.

The crowd around them pulses in time with the music. When he pulls her even closer, she's so startlingly aware of the broad expanse of his shoulders that her forearms are resting on. In front of her eyes, a deep sliver of his chest glistens with sweat; his skin glows in contrast with the black shirt. The soft hairs at the nape of his neck keep brushing her hands and she just wants to bury her fingers in it.

Tito’s arms, locked together on the small of her back, tug her in close. Suddenly, all she can hear is her own breathing; the music of the club sounds far away and muffled like she’s underwater. She refuses to look at him, instead fixing her gaze on a point over his shoulder. She second-guesses the shot she just took because her mind feels too hazy, out of focus, and out of control.

Or maybe she should've taken more shots, enough to get her out of her head like last time.

She promptly dismisses the blurry memories of last time. This isn’t like last time. Last time was just two people with alcohol coursing through their veins, getting lost in the heat of the moment. Neither of them had ever even brought it up again. She shouldn’t expect a repeat of their drunken misdeeds.

The next song plays, even more sultry than the last. She presses impossibly closer to him, their bodies slotting together perfectly. She presses her cheek to his and feels the small puff of air that brushes against her ear. It makes goosebumps erupt across her skin.

Evie tries to not think and just moves to the music, a small roll of her hips to the beat. Tito moves with her: hip to hip, chest to chest, cheek to cheek. She thinks about how easy it would be to move her head to the side and kiss him. She wonders if he would let her press their lips together again and just get lost in the overwhelming sensations, even without intoxication as the excuse.

She thinks she can feel the edges of his lips against her cheek where his hot breath tickles her skin, and it becomes all she can think about. What would those lips feel like on hers again? On her neck? On her shoulders? On every inch of her feverish skin?

Heat builds in her cheeks from that one minuscule point of contact, spreading south rapidly. She suddenly feels desperate and needy but unable to make a move, afraid of breaking whatever fragile balance they have at this moment. If this is all she gets, she’ll take it.

Her hands move as if magnetized to the curls at the nape of his neck that she can’t stop thinking about; when her fingers finally bury themselves in his hair, giving it a gentle tug, she shivers at the shaky sigh he lets out at the sensation.

Her head starts to turn of its own accord, her lips brushing against his cheeks as they seek contact, but he pulls away so suddenly her vision swims. He spins her around between one breath and the next so that he's pressed along her back, his chin hooked over her shoulder, and his hands firm on the bone of her hips.

She moves to make a comment but is unable to when her breath catches in her throat as she feels the heat of his lips pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across the top of her shoulder. He moves up the column of her throat when she drops her head back onto his shoulder, granting him more access.

He finds a sensitive spot right under her ear, drawing a whimpering moan from her lips as her hand flies back to grip his hair. The sound should be lost in the thrumming bass of the club, but she can feel him hear it when his fingers dig into the flesh of her hips briefly.

“Is this what you want?” he growls in her ear. The hand not in his hair reaches down to grasp the corded muscle of his forearm wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her flush to his front.

She nods weakly, her mind scattered as she tries to process every single point of contact. In the haze of tequila and adrenaline, it takes a moment for her to register the hard shape that's pressed lightly against her.

It becomes the only place she can focus on. She feels her frustration build; Tito isn’t doing anything, not rocking his hips into her or seeking any friction, just seemingly content to be glued along her back.

Evie can feel her heart racing to the loud thrum of the bass filling her chest; she starts to shift her hips to the music more boldly. There’s a sharp intake of breath before Tito freezes her hips with his arms, his teeth gently scraping the side of her throat.

“Chou,” he growls in her ear.

Sugar. Baby. Sweetheart. Her brain unhelpfully supplies in English.

God, she's going to think of this moment every time he calls her that from now on.

Her hand, the one still buried in his hair, fists the curls hard, pulling him even closer to her neck. He needs no further encouragement as he groans, scraping his teeth along her exposed neck.

His forearm ripples under her hand as he spreads his large hand, covering so much of her ribcage it makes her dizzy; his pressure is utterly unyielding as his thumb brushes under the soft slopes of her breast. His other hand snakes down her body, parting the slit of her dress, until she feels his hot palm digging into the exposed skin of her bare thigh, effectively pinning her to him.

She feels wild; her attention split between his firm hands, his wet mouth, his hot and sweaty body against her back, the thick bulge pressing against her ass. She can feel him everywhere. It’s still not enough.

She slides her hand down his forearm and interlaces her fingers over his, pressing lightly as she encourages him to slide his hand further north.

“Chou— We— Ah, fuck.” His voice is rough in her ear, a whine lacing the edges of his words.

The thing is, she doesn’t need him to say it. He’s right. They should tone it down, but she doesn't want to. In the back of her mind, the knowledge prickles at her that their friends could find them like this on the dancefloor at any moment. She can’t bring herself to care as his hand follows her lead. Pleasure zings through her body when his fingers brush over her nipple before coming to rest against the hollow of her throat.

There’s probably a limit to what she should ask of him as two friends overwhelmed by carnal sensations and the intoxicating atmosphere of the nightclub.

She grinds her hips meaningfully as he tilts her head, kissing her jaw and cheek.

She can’t tell where the line is anymore. She doesn’t care. As long as Tito keeps going.

“Chou, God, you’re so fucking— We probably shouldn’t—” he rasps in her ear.

Evie wants to hear none of it.

She surges up and captures the lips she’s been reluctantly thinking about night and day for the past three weeks.

Impossibly, it feels even better than she remembers. Tito's stunned for a second, but he goes easily when she turns in his arms to pull him closer by the collar of his shirt. It’s a relief when she feels him hum and melt into the kiss.

When they part, he just looks at her with a lazy smile that sends a jolt of fondness through her body. The longer he looks at her like that, the more she feels like a shaken-up Coke bottle. Waiting for what comes next. Building. Anticipating.

Her eye catches on a bead of sweat as it rolls down his face and neck, and she doesn’t stop herself from leaning in and chasing its salty path with her tongue. The sound he makes in response comes from so deep in his chest that she wants to climb into his body to see if she can make him do it again.

His hands, which were resting on her waist, slide down her back and over the swell of her ass— pausing for a quick squeeze— before they settle just below her cheeks, on the back of her upper thigh. She feels his fingers flex as he lifts her onto her toes, and she gasps when his hard length aligns with the valley of her hip.

“Oh my god—” Evie chokes out, throat tight with desire as she catches Tito’s smirk, his eyes so dark there’s barely any brilliant blue around the edge. They pause, lips barely touching, and breathing each other's air; it makes her dizzy.

Falling back into his embrace feels like a flaming star caught amidst the gravity of a black hole called desire, their lips pressing together in a desperate plea for more. There’s a hook in her ribcage that tugs so strongly towards him it makes her ache.

As their tongues swirl, she finds herself wishing that this was real. That this was happening anywhere but here: a few drinks deep in a nightclub. That this was different than every other hook-up they’ve both had on any number of generic, replaceable dance floors.

She wishes this was happening in their bed, in their home—

On her bed. In her home.

The thought hits her square in the chest. She pulls away; their lips separate with a wet smack. Her vision was fuzzy, and she’s gasping for breath as Tito kisses down the column of her throat, unaware of her sudden turmoil. Her head swims with the reality of who she’s doing this with.

This isn’t a stranger. Or an acquaintance.

This isn’t even just a friend—

This is Tito. Her Tito. Her Care bear, sunshine, as she had just called him earlier.

What the fuck are they doing? What the fuck is she doing? This time, she doesn’t have the inebriation as a justification to placate herself with. Just misplaced desperation.

Her mind suddenly feels too clear.

It’s when he gently nudges a thigh between her legs that she's struck by a need so strong that the feverish heat licks at every cell in her body, her skin crackling with it.

They have to stop— She has to stop before Tito does something she’s sure he’ll regret tomorrow. She jumps back so abruptly that she almost pulls them both to the ground.

Frantically, Tito searches her face, brows creased in shock and concern. He steadies her firmly, holding her a foot away from him, fingers digging into her arm desperately as if he’s unwilling to let go.

“Whoa, what’s wr—”

He's interrupted by the squeal of Kelsey calling to them from a few paces away in the crowd.

Evie jolts, eyes wide with panic as she pulls her arms away.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she says to the approaching group as she slips into the crowd.

She faintly hears Alandra say, “I’ll go with her,” before her hand is on Evie’s back, guiding her to the bathroom.

She’s grateful that they do not speak; Evie only suffers her assessing gaze for the time it takes her to wash her hands and freshen up. She carefully puts on a neutral face and shrugs at Alandra’s quirked eyebrow through the mirror.

When they get back to the group, Tito isn’t there. Before she can panic, Jason squeezes her elbow to tell her he just went to sit down. She doesn’t think she can face him yet, not while she can still feel the hot brand of his hands all over her body.

So she stays and dances with the group for a while before following the majority of the group back to the VIP booth, where she finds Tito sitting, hunched over and staring into a glass. She sends him a soft smile and watches his shoulders relax when she slides down the booth so she’s next to him. She nudges him with her shoulder amiably.

They both stay in their spots for the rest of the evening. Evie occasionally jumps into the conversation while Tito sits next to her, both uncharacteristically quiet. Eventually, she feels herself flagging, leaning more and more into Tito’s shoulder. When he finally speaks, it’s only to ask her if she’s ready to go home. She nods eagerly.

They wave goodbye to everyone, and he guides her gently outside to a waiting car, his hand never touching her back even though she can feel it no more than an inch away. They sit in silence, listening to the quiet radio, both looking out the window.

She tries to not let their slight jilted awkwardness bother her as they get ready for bed, moving around each other as they do every other night. There’s only one moment where her hold on herself slips: she almost tells him to just fucking come here when he walks into the bedroom shirtless, having forgotten to take it with him to the bathroom. She slams her mouth shut before any words can leave her lips.

“Good night,” she says instead, giving him a soft smile as she settles into the bed, turning towards the wall. She doesn’t even close her eyes and pretend to sleep, tension creeping back into her body.

After a moment or two, the lights turn off, and the bed dips beside her. She feels Tito lay on his back, stock still. For an excruciating minute, they both just listen to the sound of their measured breathing in the stagnant air of the bedroom.

It’s Tito who breaks; he sighs and rolls towards her. He slides an arm around her waist and pulls her close.

“I think it’s past midnight,” he whispers into her hair, “Happy Birthday, chouchou.”

“Thank you, Solou.”

“Good night.” He chuckles at the nickname and presses a light kiss to her temple before settling back down.

With the weight of his arm around her waist, she falls asleep fast.

Evie — April 6

Evie wakes up on the morning of her 29th birthday to an empty bed. Her stomach drops as the weight of last night hits her. For a moment, she looks at the empty pillow next to her and feels the panic seeping in.

Her chest loosens when she sees a note left for her on her nightstand:

Good morning! Happy birthday mon chou. Sorry I can’t be there when you wake up BUT!!!! I made you some tea in a keep-warm mug (first present) ◡̈ I’ll see you when I get back after morning skate. — solours ♡ ☼

She just stares at the note for a while, her finger lightly tracing the heart and sun Tito drew on the page. She smiles when she picks up her new copper-colored Ember mug. She has been looking at getting one for a while and never took the plunge; $200 was a ridiculous amount of money to spend on a mug, even if it keeps her tea at the perfect temperature. She supposes Tito noticed her opening and closing that tab on her computer.

She snaps a picture of her sitting in bed, holding the cup of tea, and sends it to Tito:

To tito 🧸🌞: [attachment: photo] I can’t believe you got this for me. Thank you. I love it.

Her tea is perfect when she finally takes a sip. She closes her eyes, head resting against the headboard, and just sinks into the feeling. The lingering remnants of the panic in her chest are replaced by a warm tingle that spreads from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

Some time later, she's still cradling her empty mug while scrolling Instagram when she hears her front door open. There's some rustling in the living room and kitchen before Tito quietly pokes his head into the bedroom.

“Hi,” he smiles brightly.

“Hi,” she whispers back.

His face disappears from the doorway for a second before he returns, holding a small bag and a bouquet of flowers. Evie feels the air leave her lungs as he sits next to her on the edge of the bed.

“Happy birthday, ma chouette,” he says, voice impossibly gentle as he hugs her. She has to breathe through the wave of emotion that hits her, trying very hard not to teeter towards tears.

“Anthony, what the fuck?” she scolds quietly, releasing him from the hug, “I told you you didn’t need to get me anything.”

He shrugs. “I know, but I wanted to,” he says, handing over the bouquet.

She picks up the bouquet of flowers and inhales their sweet scent; it occupies her so that she wouldn’t do or say something stupid.

“Well, thank you for the flowers. They’re so beautiful. How did you know I loved chrysanthemums?” Evie asks as she reverently brushes her fingertips over the spray of petals. It’s probably the most beautiful bouquet she’s ever seen, a bright contrast of colors between the mums, spray roses, peonies, and snapdragons.

“You mentioned it when you sent your mom a bouquet for her birthday. You made a terrible joke about ‘mums and moms,” he chuckles softly.

She looks up at him and searches his face. “That was in February.”

“Yeah,” he shrugs like it was no big deal. Like recalling the most inconsequential tidbit hidden in a joke months ago is a given.

“How do you even remember that?”

He smiles sheepishly, reaching for the bag and handing it to her. “Here. Open the box first, before the card.”

He helps her put the bouquet and mug down on the nightstand before watching her delicately unwrap the box, his leg bouncing in nervous anticipation. When she finally has it open, she gasps.

Inside the velvet jewelry box is a gold chain with three charms hanging down the middle. Evie’s fingers hover over them, almost scared to touch it as if the necklace would disappear if spooked. Eventually, ever so gently, she moves the charms so she can see them better: a tea bag, an ice skate, and a book. When she tilts it towards the light, she can see the title on the book is blank, but her name is engraved where the author would be.

She can’t bear to take her eyes away as she croaks, “Solours, this is…”

“Do you like it?” his voice fragile next to her.

Her eyes flicker up to meet his, “Yes, of course I do. This is— This is beautiful. I love it.”

The smile that lights up his face is blinding; her breath catches in her throat in response. He doesn’t seem to notice the effect he has when he reaches out to poke at the book charm. “The book charm is blank right now, but when you pick a title for your book, they can engrave it on for us. Right above your name.”

A small squeak slips out of her mouth as she fails to contain the tears that well up in her eyes.

“Woah, hey, hey, what’s wrong? It’s okay if you don’t like it. I can get you something else,” he says quickly, hugging her to his side.

Her hands tighten on the box on reflex, pulling it close to her chest. “No— That’s not. Tito, I love it. I love it so much. It’s just— The mug, and this— I think this is the best gift anyone has ever gotten me. It’s— It’s too much.”

He squeezes her tighter, “Don’t be silly. It’s not too much, okay? Only the best gifts for my best girl.”

She makes a noise somewhere between a whimper, a sob, and a groan. It makes Tito laugh, and she sinks into the rumble of his chest against her cheek.

“Here. Would you like me to put it on for you?” he asks, pulling away slightly.

“Yes, please,” she whispers, her voice barely audible as she hands him the box.

He stands and places the box on her nightstand, gingerly lifting out the necklace. She knee walks to the edge of the bed, her back facing him, and pulls her hair to the side. His fingers lightly brush her collarbones and neck as he gingerly puts the necklace on; every single hair on her body is standing on end as he works.

When he finishes adjusting the necklace so it’s centered on her chest, he places a tender kiss on the top of her head.

“Perfect. Just like you,” he murmurs to himself against her soft hair.

“What?” she says, looking up at him upside-down with a smile crinkling her eyes.

He clears his throat. “Go take a look in the mirror, and then you have one more thing to open.” She leaps off the bed and places a soft peck on his cheek before skipping to the bathroom.

When she comes back into the room, he's sitting on the edge of the bed, fidgeting with the envelope in his hand.

She beams, “It looks beautiful, Solou. I love it. Truly. Thank you.”

He shrugs and presses his lips together, holding the envelope out. “Here, open this.”

She comes to stand between his legs as she slides the card out of the envelope. A piece of paper flutters to the ground; she bends down to pick it up while she reads the card.

Evie— Ma chouette, I hope today can be at least a top 10 birthday for you. Because that’s what you deserve— the best. You are #1 on my list of favorite people (don’t tell Barz I said this, he will be fucking insufferable). You’re the best person I have ever met and I feel so lucky to call you my friend every single day. I don’t know how I would’ve done the past few months without you. You’ve done so much for me and my career, so I wanted to do something for you. I hope this isn’t overstepping. I know that you probably know plenty of people in the industry, but I figured a few more contacts can’t hurt. On the piece of paper are the contact details of Zach Hyman and his book agent. Zach— because he knows what it’s like to publish a book. And his agent— well. You know how I asked if you had a brief for your book? Well, I may have asked Hyms to pass it along to his agent and she wants to meet you!!!!!!!!!!!! Fuck, I’m so proud. I can’t wait to read your book. Happy birthday, chou. Love, Tito

She stands there, slack-jawed, just reading the card over again and again until the handwriting on the page blurs.

“Chou?” Tito’s worried voice asks. His hands come to squeeze her hips as she stands in front of him.

A tear escapes when she looks up at him, breaking the dam. She’s 99% sure it isn’t a pretty cry.

“Chou— Evie, hey!” his voice is increasingly urgent as he quickly grabs the card and paper and puts it to the side. “Woah, please— Please don’t cry. What’s wrong?”

“I— I can’t believe you did this for me,” she gasps out between sobs.

His hands reach up to wipe her cheeks. “Do what, chou?”

“You— I—” She takes a heaving breath to try to steady out the sobs as she looks down at his furrowed brows. She leans forward, her knees resting against the bed, as she smoothes them down and cradles his cheeks in her hands.

“I’m sorry I’m crying,” she laughs wetly, “I’m very happy. This just happens sometimes. I’m—”

Unable to form any of the words she wants to at that moment, Evie just envelops him in a hug so strong it knocks him back on the bed.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she chants as she crawls into his lap. They both hold each other tightly, unwilling to let go.

After a few minutes, she startles, becoming aware of the position that they've ended up in, and loosens her hold to roll off him.

Next to her, Tito asks, “You hungry? I was gonna make you some French toast for breakfast.”

Right on cue, her stomach rumbles, and she feels his laughs reverberate in her own chest. He taps her thigh gently, encouraging her to sit up, “Come on, let’s go.”

With an outstretched hand, he pulls her up.

“God, Tito, how are you such a perfect—” She catches herself, thinking back to his card, “How are you such a perfect friend? It’s ridiculous.”

He chuckles tersely. “Practice,” he mumbles. Evie misses the bitterness underlying his tone.

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recreationalfanfics · 2 years

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For Assassin's Creed hc how would the Connor Kenway, Jacob Frye, and Ezio having a pletonic relationship with a fellow assassin who is younger then them and is a medic in training?

Just strictly pletonic yandere with a female assassin

AAAH, THANK YOU FOR MY FIRST AC REQUEST!!

Platonic Yandere! Connor:

- No because Connor has dad vibes or at the very least, protective older brother vibes and that is EXACTLY how he'll be with you.

- Maybe you joined the Brotherhood and he took you under his wing or maybe he was assigned to be your teacher but either way, he will always be nearby and watching you just to make sure you are safe.

- He will also help educate you in your medical education as best as he can, introducing you and getting you familiar with helpful plants that have medical uses and such.

- He also insists on being the one to teach you how to fight properly because even though he knows your main focus is healing and helping injured assassin's recover, he'd never forgive himself if he allowed something to happen to you. Don't worry, he's a gentle teacher who eases you in and has a lot of good advice.

- He has killed people for you. Templars who tried sneak you or drunken men who tried to hit on you. When you panic and ask him why he did that, he says that he had no other choice. You think that maybe he could've just knocked them out, tied them up somewhere and left them, but...it IS Connor. He usually chooses the most peaceful and diplomatic options.

- Maybe...maybe you're overthinking it. After all, Connor would never lie to you...right?

Platonic Yandere! Jacob:

- You definetly meet Jacob when he's brought in by the Brotherhood with some new injury he got that was probably from doing a stupid stunt. Either way, it's not too bad and it was good practice.

- He's a fun and lovable guy, honestly. He's cracking jokes and making you laugh and asking about how long you've been with the Brotherhood. You feel relaxed with him, he's so much more casual than other assassins and you're more drawn to him.

- He lets you hang around him and the Rooks, all of them love you like a little sister and are always happy when you come around. Sometimes Jacob calls you in if one of them needs to be patched up and he jokingly says that maybe instead of the Brotherhood, you should just work as a healer for him and his gang.

- You laugh it off and so does he but he's actually deadly serious about it. Jacob isn't gonna act like the Brotherhood is all peachy and perfect because they're assassins and some of those heartless bastards wouldn't feel any guilt leaving you behind on a mission or something, but...if you worked for him, you'd be much more safer. Everyone loves you, everyone adores you, and everyone (especially Jacob) would ensure your safety before their own.

- Most definetly has started fights over you, like some drunk tells you that you'd be a better whore than a medic and Jacob loses his mind, both Evie and Henry and even some other rooks have to pull him back as he beats the man shitless for saying those things about you.

- He kinda treats you like a kid, which is ironic because he hates being treated that way himself by older Assassins and Evie, but he can't help it. You're still so innocent to this world, too innocent to even be an Assassin, so just leave it to Jacob and keep everyone happy with that adorable smile of yours, yeah?

Platonic Yandere! Ezio:

- NO BECAUSE HE'D THE W O R S T OUT OF THESE TWO AND MORE NOTICEABLE AS A PLATONIC YANDERE. ESPECIALLY IF YOU REMIND HIM OF HIS BROTHERS IN ANYWAY, SHAPE, OR FORM.

- You'd be way too star struck to notice it, though. After all, you're meeting THE Ezio Auditore! AND HE SEEMS TO NOT BE ANNOYED BY YOUR INEXPERIENCE LIKE THE OTHER ASSASSINS.

- Unlike Jacob he won't deter from being an assassin and he'll also teach you to defend yourself like Connor but you just fill in a gap in his heart that he thought would always be empty after what happened to his family.

- You start to notice his yandere tendencies when an Assassin snaps at you because you might've done something wrong and Ezio just threatens them with death straight up. He charms his way out of it but the even still kinda lives in the back of your mind.

- NO BECAUSE BOTH TEMPLARS AND ASSASSIN'S FEAR YOU. Because if a Templar captain sees his troupes bring in an Assassin Prisoner and it's YOU, the captain will start crying as he asks his men if they know what they've done. Other Assassin's have seen the injuries Ezio has given to those who ALLOW you to get hurt and for that reason, you are to stay close to them at all times for fear they might meet the same fate.

- Depending on which Ezio we're talking about, he'll literally make it so that you're always under his protection and that he can always have his eye on you.

- Bonus thing: he does not trust boys, given his background and how he played with women, he'd much rather choose one of his own assassins that are your age than risk having you get your heart broken, he's a good dad that way.

#Assassin's Creed #Yandere Assassin's Creed #Yandere Ac #AC x reader #Connor Kenway x reader #Ezio Auditore x reader #Ezio x reader #jacob frye x reader #yandere connor kenway x reader #yandere ezio x reader #yandere Jacob Frye x reader #ratohnhaké:ton #ratohnhaké:ton x reader #yandere ratohnhaké:ton x reader #tw yandere #yandere male #platonic yandere

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shesmore-shoebill · 10 days

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I read your shourtmanda rpf ideas i would totally read any of those as fics. very fun. especially courtmanda first and they loop shayne in. i love it.

ah thank you! :D i mean. ill make zero promises on if i actually write these fics or not. i love doing this kind of mapping/puzzling/dynamic exploration/plotting thing where I take characters and rattle them around in jars/put them in situations and see what i think they'd do. I find it very fun. But, it's not the same as actually translating it into a readable fic, sadly. 😔

anyway, you didnt ask for it but. sure i can keep talking about shourtmanda that starts courtmanda first.

obligatory "rpf F for fiction". Not about real people, these are all my little rpf universe characters I am Putting Into Situations.

Anyway, Courtmanda first....... I know i've talked a decent amount about how I imagine Courtmanda in rpf, so I'll try not to dedicate a few paragraphs to it but like. Ghhh so much fun. Okay lets see.

In this world- maybe Shayne and Courtney who have been around each other long enough to trust each other, where romance with each other isn't even an active question- not in an unsustainable, unhappy way. Just people who know the other has their back, who haven't had to question it for a while, who have settled into.. something comfortable with each other. Maybe dabbling in dating, and they like to keep each other updated. But there hasn't been anything serious for a while.

And then Amanda comes in, and.... Courtney likes her. A lot. And look, its all fun and games, it's fine. Courtney has a little admiration crush on Amanda and mentions it to Shayne but its, not a big deal, really. Amanda flirts with everyone. Courtney loves a lot of her coworkers! Is there a lot of flirting. Yes. Does it FEEL weirdly sincere at times. Yes. Have the fake bit-kisses been drifting closer and closer. maybe. Things slowly get more intense but it never feels scary. Just surprising. The friendship and trust between them continues growing alongside everything else, and if Courtney's feelings don't exactly subside even as she gets to know Amanda better- that's fine.

And then. Shayne befriends Amanda, and they're doing the pod, and. Getting closer. and its like. Oh. Fuck. First of all. He hears her talk about Courtney and how she'll gush about them on a whim, he gets to witness how, yes, Amanda flirts with everyone but there's a different quality to this. After all the time of Courtney admitting and then playing off her feelings. It seems like. Maybe. Those feelings are not unrequited. Shit.

And also, despite himself. Despite all odds. He gets why Courtney is enamoured with her, where those feelings came from, why they haven't gone away. Because maybe he likes her too. Double shit.

How this plays out/how much everyone is personally aware of depends on personal preference for angst levels, probably. I lean towards Shayne being the most aware of his feelongs, but in a way where he's hopefully not agonized over it as much as "ah shit. ah fuck. that's not great." I want Shayne playing matchmaker to an extent between Courtmanda because both of them are...... either unaware (Amanda?) or convinced it won't/can't happen (Courtney, maybe Amanda too) and he wants them both to be happy. It maybe takes some time for him to feel as confident on his read of Amanda's feelings, but once he's sure its kind of like. My friends are great and like each other and I want them happy. This could solve itself, or they should at LEAST talk to each other about it. #communication.

Either way. Courtmanda agree with each other first. And then figure out how best to talk to Shayne about it, because they know he wouldn't otherwise. OR they DON'T plan it out very well, and instead are flirting with him and Shayne is losing it a little because what the Fuck are they Doing He is In HELL. These are his friends who should be happy and dating each other and who he MAYBE he feelings for. and they KEEP FLIRTING WITH HIM. And is he evil for enjoying it but also they're together and he shouldn't be- oh god. Sorry Shayne. (Ladies!!! COMMUNICATE!! WITH!! HIM!!)

They do eventually talk. And more than talk. and they keep talking. and some way- some how- their feelings towards Shayne come to light. I'm open to lots of things in these scenarios, but I will say I don't see a world with my characterizations where Shayne is the one to try to bring himself in vs Courtney/Amanda making the move. Maybe Amanda talking to Courtney making Court realize their friendship with Shayne IS invaluable but their love isn't strictly platonic. Maybe Amanda realizing her own blossoming friendship with Shayne feels like its morphing into something different. Maybe Amanda feeling guilty because Shayne and Courtney should be each other's first and foremost. Courtney and Amanda both feeling guilty because theybhave each other! and yet. and yet. They both keeping wanting to talk to Shayne about it all. They both keep wanting Shayne around, maybe more than they should.

Shayne feeling odd because- he did it! He got his friends together and now has two happy friends, this should be objectively good. and yet.....

anyway. it all works out in the end either way. fun :) sorry i got a lil carried away lol.

#sorry its long i just got excited about details and forgot i actually needed to get somewhere with it lol #writing this while waiting for some food to heat up. its literally just me thinking up fun plots. great pasttime #amanda lehan canto #shayne topp #courtney miller #shourtmanda #smosh rpf #smosh au #courtmanda #shaymanda #shourtney #?#i love a stable friendship as backdrop to people making poor decisions in relationships so a benefit of shourtmanda is getting to use that #dynamic lol

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justagalwhowrites · 1 year

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Lavender No Outbreak AU - Ch. 5

The Miller family grows. The final part of the Lavender No Outbreak AU, continued from Ch. 1-4 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut :), Some slurs (anti-LGBTQIA+ - they are immediately rebuked). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 4.3k

Tuesday, September 14, 2021

“Hey Doc?” Jess slid up beside you at the nurses station where you were reviewing charts. “That one kid from Boston is here for the trial? She’s that special case?”

“Oh right,” you said. “God, thank you for reminding me. Swear I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached this week, I’m just all over the map.”

You’d been scrambling for weeks to get everything in place for the first clinical trial the hospital was facilitating since the COVID-19 pandemic. You hadn’t fully realized just how much the pandemic had taken out of you before that, just how much had changed.

It was like you’d been in total crisis mode for a year, all the time. It had damn near fried your brain. You basically lived at the hospital. When you were home, you slept in the garage, where Joel had set up a cot and TV and a loveseat, too afraid of getting him or Evie sick to go in the house. You smiled at your husband and daughter through glass, wanting more than anything to just touch them. The second everyone was vaccinated, Joel held you for hours, clinging to you like a man at sea clings to a life raft.

It was so hard, now, to do anything normal. Your mind kept scattering, trying to find the crisis that needed solving first before it could do anything like planning or building things out. Arranging the trial had been an uphill slog.

“What’s this kid’s name again?” You asked.

“Ellie,” she replied. “She’s a character, I think you’ll like her.”

Jess knocked once on the door to the hospital room and opened it. Inside was a small girl, maybe 12, playing a video game on the TV. Something where she was shooting zombies. You smiled a little. She paused it.

“Hi Ellie,” Jess smiled. “I wanted to introduce you to Dr. Miller, she’s going to be running your trial and the lead doctor on your case.”

“Hi Ellie,” you smiled. She looked you up and down.

“Hi,” she said. “So you’re the one who’s going to go poking around with my blood and junk?”

“Yup,” you popped the p. “We’re going to run some tests, steal as much blood of yours as we can to feed the vampires in the basement, and then hopefully get you so that you’re not coming in and dealing with people like me quite so much. Sound good?”

She considered you seriously.

“You really think you can make a difference?” She asked. “Because going to the hospital all the time is kind of bullshit.”

You laughed a little.

“Yeah, that must get old real quick,” you said. “And it’s probably not fun having to give up your blood and stuff all the time, huh?”

“Yeah, that part really sucks,” she slumped back in her pillows.

You frowned, getting the sense that she wanted to say something else.

“Want to tell me all the stuff that sucks about it?” You asked, coming and sitting on the edge of her bed. “I might be able to help.”

“Can you help find me parents who will deal with taking me to the hospital all the time if this doesn’t work?” She asked. “Because I’m pretty sure having a broken kid is a deal breaker when the people who want to adopt someone start shopping around.”

Your heart broke a little in that moment. Her face was hard, her small chin jutting out defiantly, but she was hurting. You knew she was.

“Well if they wouldn’t take care of you when you’re not feeling well, they’re not the kinds of parents you’d want anyway,” you said.

“How would you know?” She muttered.

“I don’t have parents either,” you shrugged. She looked at you, skeptical. “And not just because I’m old. I never had parents, my dad left before I was born and my mom left two months after she had me. It sucks, I get it.

“But trust me, there are a lot of parents I see in here who are good and a lot who aren’t. And the not good ones? It’s better to have no parents than them,” you said. “So really, you just have built in protection. Immunity from the extra crappy parents.”

She laughed once.

“Maybe I should keep the screwed up blood then,” she said.

“Nah, think we’ll fix that,” you said. “Make sure you’re all set and ready to take it easy once you’re a grown up. Just give all the potential parents a really tough questionnaire. See if you can trip them up. You seem smart, I think you can weed them out with enough practice. OK?”

“OK,” she half smiled at you.

The rest of the day went by and your mind kept drifting back to Ellie. You grabbed Jess on her way down to the cafeteria.

“Hey,” you said quickly. “Ellie, where is she staying while she’s here for the trial?”

“One of the group homes,” she said. “It’s not ideal but it’s the only arrangement we could come up with and the trial would be really good for her…”

You nodded slowly and thanked her before ducking outside and calling Joel.

“Hey Baby,” he answered. You were almost surprised. His contracting business had picked up quite a bit in recent years and he spent most of his days running from job site to job site to manage progress. He couldn’t always answer the phone on the job.

“I know you’re busy so I’ll make it quick,” you said. “How would you feel about becoming foster parents?”

Tuesday, October 5, 2021

You got your third daughter for your 43rd birthday.

Jess had helped speed you and Joel through the process to get approved to take her home, Sarah almost strangely OK with you dismantling her old room to make it something Ellie would like, excited about getting her new sister.

You’d given Ellie your tablet one day during lunch, letting her go on Amazon and pick out bedding and decorations for her room. You’d had to transfer care for her to another doctor - though she still got to stick with the trial - but it was worth it.

She and Joel became such fast friends it almost made your head spin. You introduced the two one day when he came by to meet you for lunch. Ellie was playing her zombie game and he asked if he could join in.

“Don’t want you dragging my stats down,” she said.

“Think I can keep up,” he replied. She looked skeptical but handed him the second controller, anyway. Joel, you were happy to say, did surprisingly well. He even tallied more kills than Ellie did.

“No way,” she said. “We’re trading controllers, mine doesn’t work right.”

“Tellin’ ya,” he said. “Nothin’ to do with the controller and everything to do with how you handle the scenario…”

He traded controllers anyway. He bested her a second time, shrugging with a slight smile.

“You dick!” She laughed. He laughed back.

When you left the room he put his hands in his back pockets and sighed.

“Can’t let her go to a group home,” he said. “Just throw her in the car and bring ‘er home, fuck the rules.”

You kissed him, not sure you’d ever loved him more.

“Oh cool, you didn’t say you had a pool!” She ran to the sliding glass door, pressing her nose against it before looking back at you. “Can you teach me to swim?”

“Sure,” you smiled. “Might be a little cold to now but…”

“Think I can handle it,” she replied.

You showed her around the house, introduced her to Evie, left her to settle into her room and sat next to Joel on the couch.

“Happy birthday, Baby,” he kissed your temple. “Been a good one?”

“Oh cool!” Ellie stuck her head into the hall. “There’s a freaking telescope in here?”

She ran back into her room.

You smiled.

“Pretty damn good.”

***

Tuesday, August 29, 2023

Joel wasn’t exactly thrilled to get a call from Ellie’s school when they’d barely been back a week.

“Mr. Miller,” the woman on the phone said. “I’m afraid we couldn’t reach your wife but Ellie has been fighting at school…”

“On my way,” he replied, yelling instructions to Tommy as he jogged to his truck.

He wasn’t quite sure what to do here. Sarah and Evie had hardly been scrappy girls. Sure, they had some behavioral issues here and there - Evie got into the bad habit of sneaking out of the house her senior year of high school, something that worried both you and Joel to no end.

But neither of them had ever thrown a punch.

At least, as far as he knew.

Ellie, strangely, was more like him than either of his biological daughters. He saw it when she played her video games, the way she got worked up and invested in them. He saw it when she noticed some kind of injustice and stomped off to try to handle it herself, resorting almost immediately to physical solutions instead of trying to talk it out. Joel understood her better than you did.

But even though Ellie was on the scrappy side, he doubted she’d have started hitting someone unless she had a damn good reason. He just needed to figure out what it was.

You pulled into the parking lot behind him, parking alongside his truck.

“Hey Baby,” he pulled you in for a quick kiss. “They said they couldn’t reach you.”

“Yeah, I was closing when they called,” you replied. “I got the message only a few minutes later and just got changed and ran over… There has to be a reason, right? I mean, Ellie is Ellie but she wouldn’t hit someone without a damn good reason.”

He smiled a little at you.

“Told you lately that I fuckin’ love you?” He asked. “Because I fuckin’ love you.”

You led the way into the building, beelining for the administration offices. Joel recognized the look in your eyes. It was the look you got when something had pissed you off and you were going to fix it, come hell or high water.

It was a look that had made you advance at the hospital, knowing exactly when to use your tenacity to go after something you thought needed to change, knowing exactly how to go about it to make it happen. Whether it was making nice with the right people or going scorched earth, you always seemed to find the right way to navigate it.

Joel almost felt sorry for the staff as you walked into the office. He knew your scorched earth look when he saw it.

“Hi,” you said. “We’re the Millers, Ellie Williams’ parents. We were told she was here?”

“Of course,” the woman led the two of you back to a counselor’s office.

Ellie was sitting in the corner, arms crossed, her eye black. She looked pissed, like she was on the verge of tears.

“Oh Baby Girl,” Joel went and dropped to his knee in front of her, taking his face in his hand. “Who hit you?”

“Stupid girl,” she muttered.

“Mr. and Mrs. Miller,” the counselor smiled tightly. “I’m afraid we have a problem here.”

“Yes,” you said, not taking the woman’s outstretched hand. “I’m afraid we do. Is there a reason my daughter clearly hasn’t been to the nurse’s office? She doesn’t have an ice pack for her eye, who knows what other injuries she might have…”

“Well, the girl Ellie hit is in the nurse’s office now,” the woman responded, defensive. “We can send Ellie down after…”

“No need,” you replied. “She’ll be coming home with us until we can establish whether or not your school can provide competent care for our child.”

“Well, your child hit another student,” she said. “In front of several teachers. She threw the first punch. The first several, actually…”

“She started it!” Ellie yelled. You gave her a look and she sat back in her chair, muttering. “Well, she did….”

“Did you talk to this other girl?” You asked the counselor, eyebrows raised. “Or did you just blame my child because she’s newer to the district and in foster care?”

“I can assure you, Ellie’s status had nothing to do…”

“Ellie,” you turned to her. “Why did you hit the other girl?”

She looked at you for a second before looking to Joel, her eyes pleading.

“Come on, Baby Girl,” he said. “You have to tell us what happened or we can’t help you.”

“It… it involves bad words,” she glanced at the counselor.

“You can say them,” Joel said, looking at the counselor too, all but daring her to try to tell him otherwise.

Ellie sighed.

“She called my friend Riley a dyke,” she looked to the floor. “Said she was going to burn in hell…”

“And that’s when you hit her?” You asked, voice calm.

“No,” Ellie looked up. “Then she said that she wanted to kill all the dykes to send them to hell faster. Then I hit her.”

Joel felt his blood get hot. Didn’t matter that it was toward another teenager, Joel wanted someone to hurt. He glanced to you, your jaw squared, and you looked back toward the counselor.

“So you just let children in your school use genocidal language toward other students?” You asked.

“Mrs. Miller…”

“It’s Dr. Miller, actually,” you cut her off. “Since you apparently didn’t bother to look in Ellie’s file and see what her foster mother does for a living, I’ll fill you in. I’m the chief of pediatric surgery for the largest hospital system in Austin which means I know every single social worker in the county. I’ve treated the children of some of the most powerful people in the state because they seek me out. I am more than willing to call in every single favor that I have - which I promise is a lot - and leverage every single cent I own to personally destroy you and everyone in this district who allows such behavior to run unchecked. I will orchestrate a PR nightmare so thorough you won’t recover for years. You will have to beg Ronald McDonald for a job slinging fries by the time I’m done with you, do you understand me?”

The woman glanced at Joel who just shrugged. He wasn’t about to help her. She was lucky she was dealing with you, you were just threatening her livelihood. He was tempted to threaten her life.

“If you want to keep your job,” you said. “You’re going to investigate this incident as thoroughly as possible. You are going to remove that other girl from this school before she hurts anyone else. You are going to institute new training procedures so your faculty and staff know how to handle incidents with LGBTQ students because, apparently, that needs some improvement around here. Think you can handle that?”

“I’ll discuss it with the principal,” her eyes were a little wide. Joel smirked.

“Good,” you replied. “I’ll be in touch to follow up. In the mean time, I’m going to take Ellie home as an excused absence to make sure she receives appropriate medical attention for injuries she received while under your care. I’ll also be reaching out to my attorney to make sure any and all liability in this case is appropriately considered.”

You stood up and Ellie stood up with you. You put your arm around her.

“Come on,” you said. “We’re going home.”

Ellie pressed herself against your side and gave you a quick hug before she climbed in Joel’s car.

“For the record,” Joel said. “Not sure I’ve ever wanted to fuck you more than when you were chewing out that counselor.”

“Good to know I can still turn you on,” you teased before you sighed. “So, Ellie’s friend…”

“Always kinda figured,” he shrugged. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

“Yeah,” you said. “See you at home?”

He kissed you.

“Hopefully more than see you.”

That night at dinner, Ellie only picked at her food, moving it around on her plate.

“We’re not mad at you, Baby Girl,” Joel said, looking at her. “You know that, right?”

She sighed.

“I know.”

“Want to talk about anything?” You asked.

“You called me your daughter,” she said.

Joel looked at you for a moment.

“Well yeah,” Joel shrugged. “That’s how we think of you. We can use another word if you’d rather but…”

“OK but if I’m your daughter why haven’t you tried to adopt me?” She asked, looking between you. “I mean, if you just don’t want to…”

“Oh Baby Girl,” Joel leaned in closer to her. “Do you want us to adopt you? Because we just didn’t want to do anything that you weren’t askin’ for. We’d love nothing more than to adopt you.”

“Really?” She asked.

“Of course!” You smiled. “What, you think we let just any ol’ gremlin come in here? Just the special ones.”

She smiled a little at that.

“Cool.”

You started the paperwork in the morning.

Saturday, October 7, 2023

Joel had been looking for a good reason to take all his girls camping and your birthday seemed to be a good a reason as any.

Sarah came with Brandon and Carson, who was now five. Evie was happy for an excuse to get away from college after a bad breakup with her girlfriend. Ellie was just excited to get to spend more time with her sisters. Even Tommy came with his wife, Maria. Just when they’d started to expect him to never settle down, he met the perfect woman. Unlike Joel, he wasted no time in locking her down, a fact he loved to rub in.

And Joel? He was just happy to have all his favorite people under one roof.

He’d rented a cabin big enough that you and him would have some space - since he fully intended on making you cum until you couldn’t see straight - and grabbed steak and hot dogs and enough junk food to feed a small army.

Sarah still lit her marshmallows on fire for Smores but Joel caught her stealing some of Brandon’s less burned ones when they were all around the campfire one night. He took Carson and Ellie down to the lake and taught them both how to fish while you and Sarah stayed back at the cabin to chat, the two of you still the best of friends decades after he’d first hired you to be her nanny. He made the mistake of letting you pick the hike one day and he paid the price when Evie - who’d always been clumsy - twisted her ankle. Joel had to carry her back to camp, you cursing yourself for not packing more first aid supplies in your hiking bag. Ellie set up her telescope in a clearing and spent hours looking at the stars, far enough from the city lights that she was in awe of them.

“Good birthday?” Joel asked as you climbed into bed beside him the last night there.

“Perfect birthday,” you kissed him.

His hands drifted to your breast and you smiled against his mouth.

“Some things never change, do they?” You teased.

“You stop wantin’ it and I’ll stop doin’ it,” he replied, sliding a hand over your body to your leg, hitching it over his hip.

“You know me so well.”

He undressed you slowly, taking his time touching you everywhere he knew you loved his fingers to linger. When you tugged his pants down, you took his length in your hand, working him up and down for a moment, before you took him in your mouth, so hot and wet he had to stop himself from moaning too loud. You sucked him slowly, working your way down his thick shaft until you were nearly choking on him before going back up again, moving harder and faster each time, your tongue pressing against the thick vein that ran on the underside of him.

“Fuck, Baby,” he groaned. “Tryin’ to make me cum before I’m even inside you?”

You choked out something that sounded like a ‘no’ from around his cock and he groaned.

“You get just another minute of that,” he said, straining to keep his composure. “Want to cum inside your pussy, not your mouth.”

Just when he felt like he couldn’t take anymore, he grabbed your hair and pulled you off him, panting for breath. You wiped your mouth.

“Here I thought you liked that,” you whispered.

“More than liked it,” he muttered, grabbing your hips and yanking you toward him with a quiet yelp followed by a giggle. “Gonna have to do something to make sure you keep bein’ that good to me…”

He dipped his fingers into you, making you groan. He smiled.

“This wet just from suckin’ me off?” He breathed. You moaned in response. “Fucking hell, you really are the perfect woman…”

He added another finger and leaned down, taking your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking you while his fingers opened you until you came so hard it felt like you might snap off his fingers.

Joel slipped his fingers from you and ran them over his cock, using your wetness to make him slick enough to enter you. He notched his head against you and settled between your legs, pressing into you in one firm, demanding stroke.

“Fuck,” you panted, your back arching. “So full…”

“Love you full of me,” he said, grinding himself against you before pulling back and pushing into you again.

Your arms went around his neck as he picked up the pace, pressing his cock all the way into you with each stroke. You pushed yourself up off the bed and he smiled, kissing you as he helped you to straddle his lap while he was still inside you. He held you close while you rose and fell over him, thrusting up to meet you with every firm stroke. Your breasts bounced with the force of it, your head tilted back in pleasure as he sucked and licked his way up and down your throat.

“Joel,” you breathed. “Want to cum with you. So close…”

“Fuck Baby,” he groaned as you moved harder, faster, angling your hips so his stomach pressed into your clit while his head caught on the spot inside you that made you moan. He liked to think of that spot as his place in you, where he’d been made to reach and satisfy. Never did he feel as complete as when he was inside you, making you cum around him.

“Joel,” you gasped as you started to cum again, clinging to him with your whole body. He thrust into you once more before filling you.

“Love you so much,” he kissed you, your body pressed tight against his own. “Fuck, I love you.”

When things went back to the normal routine after the camping trip, Joel printed off a picture that Sarah had taken on her phone during the hike. It was just before Evie had twisted her ankle and everyone was smiling, the frame filled with the faces of everyone Joel had ever loved.

He wrote on the back of the picture, as though he’d ever forget who any of you were to him: “My girls + Carson, Me, Tommy, Maria and Brandon - October, 2023.”

You worked until after seven that night. Joel made dinner - nothing like what you could do but you kissed him like you thought it was a gourmet meal all the same - and Ellie was out with her friend Riley.

“Anything you in the mood for this evening?” He asked, pouring you another glass of wine.

“Nothing in particular,” you smiled. “Oh, we could watch When Harry Met Sally! Such fantastic fall vibes…”

“I think I can handle that,” he smiled a little.

“I mean, it is your favorite movie,” you smiled back. “I’ll clean up if you want to get it queued up?”

He found the movie on the Apple TV and was about to set it to play when he glanced at the record player in the corner. You’d painted little purple flowers along one side of it. They’d faded and chipped a bit since but he still loved those little flowers, a physical representation of you. He lit the candle on the coffee table - lavender scented, one of your favorites. He pulled out Slowhand and set it to play Wonderful Tonight just as he heard the water cut off in the kitchen. You laughed, leaning in the doorway to the living room.

“Clapton, hm?” You asked, eyebrows raised.

“Well, when the song stops bein’ true, I’ll stop playin’ it,” he held his hand out to you. You smiled hugely and took it, tucking yourself against him. He held you close, swaying in time to the music, the smell of lavender on the air.

You stretched up to kiss him as the song ended and Joel turned the record player off before settling in beside you on the couch, glass of wine in hand.

“I think our little ‘how we met video’ for this movie would be fun,” you said during the opening credits. “Me, a college girl with a crush…”

“Me, an old man who was practically head over heels for you from first sight,” he said.

You laughed.

“Think we’ve made a pretty good go of it though,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

He smiled and kissed your forehead, surrounded by your warmth, the signs of the children you’d raised with him, and the smell of lavender.

“Wouldn’t change a damn thing.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this overly long exercise in "What would happen if?" I like to think this version of Doc and Joel are living in Austin right now, happy with their girls.

Thanks for being here, thanks for sticking with it, thanks for being a part of this. Love you all!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic

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palepinkgoat · 22 days

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Today we're talking about birthdays! BECAUSE ITS @energievie's birthday HAPPY BIRTHDAY EVIE!!! 💖💖💖 Thank you for the tags @deedala @energievie @michellemisfit

When is yours? August 12

Where were you born? Minnesota

How do you feel about your legal name? Are you using it online and/or IRL? Right now it's not a good time to be a Karen. But I use it anyway. I was called Kay or KO for a long period of my life. Now I'm called KOE by the people who used to call me KO. (It's a last name initials thing) My family sometimes calls me KayKay.

How about your sign? Do you feel it "fits"? Leo. Pretty much yes indeed except that I don't care about the way I look. I'm a Sagittarius moon which I feel is accurate as well. Double fire baby.

What's your earliest memory related to your birthday? Not my earliest, but one of my favorites. I turned 9 and was at this lake town on vacation with my family and grandparents and cousins. My mom and grandma took me into town. It was raining and they bought me a rainbow umbrella and then I had cheesecake for the first time! Also because of that memory I have kept track and it has rained on my birthday every year since!

What's one of the best gifts you've ever received? my children.

How about one of the best you've given yourself? my children.

What's your favourite cake flavour? lemon!

How about your favourite flowers? lilacs for scent and memories and yellow tulips for looks

Have your ever thrown a birthday party? If yes, tell us about your favourite one. I have! Well, very small ones for my kids. Like I'm talking two friends or something. We never had giant parties with party favor junk or anything. They stress me out and the idea of them stresses out my autistic son, but my daughter had a sleepover with 4 girls this year and it was ok. As long as we have a cake, it's fun.

What's the ultimate birthday song? You HAVE to listen to this song because a) it's fantastic b) they are from Chicago c) the guitarist/vocalist Alex is my friend and d) it was my daughter's favorite song when she was little.

And last but not least, pick a celebrity with whom you share your birthday. Peter Krause from Six Feet Under and 911 fame! We are also both from Minnesota. Basically best friends. tagging @celestialmickey @wehangout @mybrainismelted @gallawitchxx @francesrose3 @blue-disco-lights @suzy-queued and you!

#Spotify

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hannahssimblr · 11 months

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Chapter Seventeen

I know it’s morning, because the incessant thumping bass music starts up in tandem with the bird song. I lie with my eyes closed stubbornly insisting on sleeping through the noise, but when Claire gives up, stretches and starts to crawl out of her sleeping bag, I know it’s time that I admit defeat.

“Good morning.” She says to me as soon as I stir, she’s bright as a bell.

“Morning,” I croak, rubbing my eyes. “and happy birthday to you!”

She makes an excited squealing sound. “Thank you! It’s so weird! I’m a legal adult now!”

“Do you feel different?”

“Yeah, maybe a bit. Usually when people ask me that I’m like ‘no’ but today… maybe I actually do. I feel mature.”

“You have the whole world in your hands now, you can do anything.”

She looks down at her palms as though they’re suddenly magical, and I laugh and reach for the bag of food in the corner of the tent, no thoughts in my head but the chocolate brioche we bought in Aldi.

We lope outside and start eating it on the camping chairs, and we must be the first ones to wake up in the entire place, because the whole field is deserted. Last night it was buzzing with chatter and music, people everywhere dressed in colourful outfits, coming over to our little campsite and sharing a drink with us, people singing songs, letting off firecrackers somewhere, but today it’s a wasteland. A battlefield of cheap supermarket beer cans litter the dry, dusty soil and there are pieces of what is presumably someone’s feather boa strewn all over the place. It reminds me of the time that my cat mauled a bird to death in our garden.

“Did you have fun yesterday?” Claire asks me with a mouthful of soft, chocolatey bread, and I nod. “Yeah it was fun. It hasn’t been what I expected but like, in a good way.”

“I know, it’s a little bit chaotic.”

“And the horror stories about the toilets are true.”

“Ugh, yeah. Don’t remind me. I’ve been holding in my pee for ages.”

I lower my voice a little and lean toward her. “And how is it with Shane?”

“Oh, fine.” Her cheeks turn pink. “It’s been good, he’s really nice. I think I like him a lot…” She trails off. “I hope it’s not weird for you.”

“Actually it isn’t.” I admit. “I’m happy for you.”

She sighs. “I hope everyone else will be too.”

“Everyone, meaning Kelly?”

She shrugs “Well she hates me anyway now so I suppose there’s literally nothing that could make it worse, I just can’t help but feel a bit bad.”

“She hates me too, I think.” I lament. “But I suppose we can’t make decisions based on her, otherwise we’d both be bored and miserable.”

“We’re way better off without her.” She decides. “She’s always been a bitch, and we just ignored it because she wasn’t being a bitch directly to us until now.”

“She always was to me.” I admit. “Ever since I’ve known her she’s been a bit like…. Aggressive. I feel like it just got worse this summer.”

“Yeah I know, there was that thing she said about Liam and you at the barbeque, that never sat right with me.”

“She said a lot of mean stuff. I think she sort of meant well, but it doesn’t always come out of her mouth sounding that way.”

“She’s jealous and annoying, let’s not make it complicated.”

I hesitate for a few moments. “Do you remember what she said to me the morning that I broke up with Liam?”

“Hm? When was that?”

“A few weeks ago. You were both there, and she said that I should stick to boys like him, because… other kinds of boys would end up hurting me.”

“Actually, yeah. I remember.”

“Do you think she was right?”

She looks at me thoughtfully, blue eyes searching for something in my face, like weakness or naivety, maybe. “I don’t know…”

“But…” I prompt.

“But sometimes it’s good to know when something is going to be too much for you too quickly.”

“So you agree with her.”

“Maybe, Evie. Why? Do you still fancy him?”

“I dunno.”

“Well, do you think there’s a chance he’d feel the same?”

“I dunno that either.” I feel my face starting to get hot, and I’m agitated, too warm and too hungry. All of the things that seemed right last night seem a bit muddled this morning, and as I think of Jude, and the places where his hands were, his mouth doing those things to mine, it’s freaky to imagine that the person he was kissing into the wall was me. In the chalk white of this Saturday morning, I find it hard to rectify that. I’ve remembered who I really am now; a girl who never does things like that, she’d be way too shy to.

The zip of our neighbouring tent flies open then, and Jude’s torso spills out onto the ground. He’s wearing an old t-shirt, stained slightly pink in the wash, and his hair is tousled. The abruptness of his exit makes my skeleton nearly eject itself from my skin. I sit pinned to the spot and pray that he didn’t hear any of our conversation.

He’s rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes, and his voice is croaky. “What are you guys eating?”

“Brioche.” Claire tells him.

“Is there enough for me too?”

She tosses the packet to him, but she has a bad aim and it lands about two meters away. He has to get up and get it himself. He comes out of the tent with a pair of sports shorts on, and even though I’ve seen the expanse of his long tanned legs a dozen times before, I still feel shy and have to look at something else.

“Such a good shout, brioche.” He says, tearing open the plastic wrapper and taking a bite out of one.

“Are you forgetting something?” Claire says to him cheekily, and his head jerks up to meet my eyes for just a moment. He looks alarmed, but then relief comes over his face as he realises I’m not expecting him to do or say anything.

“Oh, It’s your eighteenth!” He says to her “Happy birthday! Welcome to the club.”

“Thank you!”

He gives her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then instead of taking the seat next to me, he sits way down across the circle. I’m immediately acutely aware of him, and his demeanour is throwing me. He hasn’t said anything directly to me yet, nor is he really looking at me at all. He’s looking off somewhere distantly, just eating the bread with glassy eyes. A pit of uncertainty settles in my stomach and I start to feel slightly panicked. I don’t want to be around him anymore, it’s too stressful. I wish that I could make myself disappear. Eventually I make up an excuse about needing to get something in the tent, and I crawl in there and stay until everybody else wakes up.

Shortly enough the campsite creeps to life. Bodies crawl out of tents and begin their trudge to the horrible toilets and down to the coffee stands, moving past our campsite with grey complexions, like a crowd of benevolent zombies. Jen and the others eventually come out too, and when I re-emerge from my cocoon we all sit around tucking into what little food Claire and I bought until it’s nearly gone. I don’t mention that we didn’t plan to feed everyone, and in fact the food we brought was supposed to last us for the whole weekend, because I think it might be uncool to say that.

Shane fumbles in his pocket and produces a single birthday candle, which he sticks into the last piece of brioche indelicately, lights it and places it in Claire’s hands. “Happy birthday” he grins. “You can drink legally now.”

She laughs gleefully. “Yes, legally. And vote, more importantly, and get my licence.”

“You’re not going to learn to drive though, really, are you?”

“Why would I do that when I have you to taxi me around?” She blows out the candle and we all cheer for her.

Then Shane turns to me, having to make a dig at me as usual. “Now Evie’s the only one who’s still a little child.”

“I’m not a child.” I grumble. “I’m eighteen in march.”

“Such a wee baby, sure march is seven months away.”

“Yeah, ha ha. Shut up.”

I glance over at Jude and he just looks awkward. “What’s on the agenda today, Jenny?” He asks, swiftly ignoring us.

She takes out her trusty band schedule and starts listing off the names of who’s playing today. “That rave thing is on later on” She adds. “Starting at like midnight, so we can go to that if you’re all up for it.” We all agree that it would be fun, and if we’re not going to stay up all night and party on Claire’s birthday then when will we ever.

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#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #writing #fiction #romance #sims 4 storytelling #sims4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 1

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