#one of them obviously being minnie. i miss her every day and i hope she’s having a good time wherever she is now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bbugyu · 4 years

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how seokmin knew

a journey with yoon jeonghan, lee seokmin, and you.

from the second seokmin first saw you, he thought you were far too good to be true, and he hadn't even gotten to learn the best parts of you yet.

prelude | part one | part two | part three | epilogue

wc.8888 | fluff, smut, courtship, oh jeez where do i even begin, the beginning i guess, polyamory, fem reader, musician!seokmin sugar daddy!jeonghan escort!reader, threesome, fingering, oral (everyone receiving), creampie, cumpla (like gunpla but with cum), (sorry), (but seriously lots of cumplay), overstim, switch!seok dom!han switch!reader, phone sex, snuck in a babygirl, hell yeah fighting for dominance, let's talk BOUNDARIES, hi mingyu, sorry but seokmin being a special guest is hot as hell, the required listening for the last scene is the album "new edition (1984)" by new edition (which is a real lp i own and listened to while writing it)

hELLOO!! welcome to my poly seokhan au! i have been neck deep in this universe for weeks now and i am finally releasing it in three parts! i will be posting today (obvi), tomorrow, and friday at noon pst, plus a little bonus epilogue whenever i finish it! today is all about seokmin and how he fell in love. i really poured a lot of myself into this one, between the poly reader and the obsession with architecture and the record collection (three fun facts about me, but you get no more context), so if you like it, please let me know! i did my best to portray the relationship as realistic and as healthy as possible❣️ also this series lowkey became a “how many cameos can i naturally squeeze in” kinda piece so if you spot one u should absolutely let me know hehe. and i edited my masterlist to accommodate for serial aus, let me know what you think!

please read the prelude linked in the contents of this post! it gives important context for the beginning of this part, establishes relationships, and sets the general mood 😏

seokmin lived a fairly simple life. he held private piano and guitar lessons in the comfort of his apartment, vaulted ceilings and tall windows helping to bring a bright, airy, studio environment during the day that he felt suited musical lessons perfectly - not the mention the lovely acoustics the tall room provided when he sang, belting out improv musical theater riffs as he scrambled eggs for a sandwich. he genuinely found joy and pride in helping adults and children alike train their hands to achieve new heights. he also did some contract vocal lessons at an entertainment company, stopping by the studio two or three times a week to train young new hopefuls in the music industry. he wondered how different his life would have been if he had taken their path, but he enjoyed the quiet downtime in his line of work, and wouldn't trade it for anything

his simple life. he drank tea in the mornings as the sun rose over the skyline, rode the subway with his guitar bag over his shoulder and his groceries in two overstuffed ecobags, and enjoyed his days off by relaxing in his home, scribbling down lyrics and compositions on the legal pad that never left the music shelf of his upright piano. the less simple part of his life could be described simply as you.

the second time he had been summoned to accompany you, he had been at home, heating up leftover takeout and mindlessly watching some drama on a saturday evening after having gotten lunch and playfully wasting the afternoon with a friend, when he received a phone call. he answered it without giving too much thought, expecting an invite for drinks, as was usually the case when he heard from jeonghan. he put it on speaker and set his phone on his kitchen counter, leaning against it as he ate.

"hello?"

"minnie!" he had said, the smile obvious in his voice. seokmin responded with a short greeting before jeonghan continued. "are you busy tonight?"

"just watching tv," seokmin said, spoonful of fried rice in his mouth. "why? you feeling lonely?"

"something like that," jeonghan said. the architect must have been in the car, he thought briefly, hearing the static noise of wheels on pavement in the background every time he spoke. "listen, you remember y/n, yeah?"

he nearly choked. "uh, yeah. of course. did you think i would forget?"

"not really," he said matter of factly. "we're currently heading home after that exhibit opening and she's been asking about you all day. any chance you can get to my place in half an hour?"

seokmin blinked, staring at nothing as he processed. "tonight?"

a laugh. "yeah, tonight. she's been really sweet lately, i thought you could be her treat."

her treat. "right now?"

"yes," jeonghan laughed again. "right now. if it helps the decision making process, i've had my hand between her legs this whole time and she gets needier every time you talk."

seokmin swallowed harshly, imagining you squirming in the passenger seat of the car, huffing and desperate, begging for him with jeonghan's fingers curled into you. he adjusted against the counter, his pants suddenly feeling slightly tighter. "i'll get a cab."

then he heard you, your signature whiny moan as jeonghan no doubt worked you into a mess despite his even tone as he spoke. "y'hear that, sweetheart? he said yes. i'll pay for the cab when we get there. see you soon?"

"yeah," he said, eyes still unfocused. "yeah, see you soon."

after jeonghan asked you to be an angel and hang up for him, seokmin stood and looked around at his leftover fried rice and the drama that continued playing, remnants of his simple life that he found plenty enjoyable and fulfilling on its own, but fell to the shadows as you came into the light.

the cab ride felt too fast, and jeonghan's car pulled into the driveway of his luxurious home only minutes after seokmin arrived. he emerged from the door of the cab and stood in the late november air as the other car parked, the passenger door swinging open in a hurry.

"seokmin!" you squealed, heels clicking against the drive as you ran up to him in a shoulderless, long sleeved jewel toned dress that was not at all suited for the current temperature. your arms wrapped around his neck and he laughed into the hug. "i missed you."

"it's practically snowing," he chided, pulling away to wrap his coat around you, and you happily fell into his chest. he didn't stop you when you pulled his face to yours, kissing him briefly but deeply. you tasted familiar, memories of eating you out entering his mind as he thought about how jeonghan had likely made you clean his hand in the car, and despite your forwardness and his generally shy nature, it wasn't the winter air that sent chills up your spine when he muttered "i missed you, too," against your lips.

"okay, kids, get inside while i pay the nice driver," jeonghan said, holding out your coat to seokmin. he took it, draping it over your bare shoulders. you grinned at him, working your fingers between his and leading him towards a side entrance of the home.

he felt a flash of embarrassment, wondering what the cab driver must have thought about the interaction he was witnessing, but seokmin figured that he had probably seen much stranger and decided to not worry about it, especially when you were regaling the events of the evening.

"they were playing classical," you groaned, punching in the door code with the hand that wasn't fiddling with his fingers. "from a cd. at a modern art exhibit. what part of that makes sense?"

seokmin laughed. "is that why you were thinking about me?"

you smiled as he followed you through the doorway, revealing a grand kitchen with a large island countertop. he had been here before, but on halloween, when it was full of life and the counter was covered in food. "jeonghan may have let me watch some videos," you said, and seokmin felt heat rising on his neck as he thought of you asking to learn more about him in his absence. you stepped out of your heels and walked towards the large fridge as you spoke, retrieving a water bottle. "that jazz piano number you did, jeonghan said it was at a bar? that would have been so much better, especially considering the artist's vision. his stuff was so full of life, i'm honestly surprised he allowed them to do anything other than live jazz - classical was too stuffy."

"it was a commentary," jeonghan reminded you, closing the door behind him as you offered a bottle to seokmin. "juxtaposition of traditional museum atmosphere with outlandish architecture and colorful, emotional art pieces," he said, sounding rehearsed. "the music was supposed to feel stuffy compared to the visuals."

"you guys worked too hard to settle for that," you shot back. you may have held a little resentment for the fact that jeonghan hadn't even asked for your opinion on the matter, considering you were less than a year away from a degree in musical theory. "if i hear clair de lune at one of these unveilings one more time, i'm gonna tear my fucking hair out."

seokmin laughed, but jeonghan only gave you a tired chuckle, and only after you quirked an eyebrow at him. he should have known you were only acting impressed at the exhibit because you wanted seokmin around. jeonghan could be cruel, but not so cruel as to invite a friend over to make his lady's night, only to deny everyone the pleasure after he already arrived, and this was a fact about him you were completely aware of. now was your chance to act out with little to no sacrifice - the most he would do is punish you in bed, and that, you were willing to handle.

jeonghan tsked when he saw your laptop and schoolwork spread across the kitchen island. "didn't i ask you to not do this?"

you eyed the counter, noting the teasing tone he took. "not do what?"

"leave your shit in the kitchen. you have a whole room to do schoolwork in, make a mess in there," he scolded, clicking his tongue as he flipped a textbook shut.

"i work better in bright, open spaces," you said quickly.

"i gave you a window to the sunroom."

"and i love it," you stated obviously. "and the desk you chose is nice, and the chair is super comfy, but it's still too dark in that room. it makes me want to fall asleep." you turned to the musician. "how have you been, seokmin? i haven't seen you in weeks, and jeonghan purposefully keeps secrets when you guys go out."

seokmin said close to nothing of substance as he said he was doing well and leaned against the kitchen island, focusing more on the way you shrugged the fuzzy coat off your shoulders and setting it in the counter to tuck your arms into his, wrapping them around his torso and resting your chin on his shoulder to give the man of the house a flirtatious look. jeonghan simply rolled his eyes at you with a faint smile on his face, taking off his own outer coat and going to hang it in a closet. you hummed as seokmin spoke about anything he could think of, smiling when you felt his gentle, hesitant fingers rubbing circles into the small of your back.

and that night, seokmin was perhaps too eager to secede control, allowing his friend to gently order the two of you to do whatever pleased him. currently, you were between his thighs as he laid out comfortably in jeonghan's bed, the architect fucking into you from behind as your voice went hoarse from sucking seokmin dry. his thick cock stretched your jaw to its breaking point, but your neediness for his cum on your tongue outweighed the soreness you knew you would feel the next day as you bobbed your head, your hands wrapped around what wouldn't fit. he choked, his fingers itching to reach out to you, but remembering jeonghan's firm words of no touching and gripping the sheets instead as he came into your mouth and you moaned around him. jeonghan had stopped you from swallowing completely, a hand around your throat as he pulled you against his chest, forcing your neck to crane around so he could share the treat. seokmin watched, hand involuntarily going to pump himself again despite the sensitivity, as his release dripped down both of your jaws between the feverish kisses. you whined, jeonghan continuing to thrust into you as he stole the gift seokmin gave you straight from your mouth, his fingers finding your clit, making your knees shake as he came in your pulsating cunt.

that was the first time in his life that seokmin had ever cum twice in one session, having been too turned on at the sight to even think about not having you ride his face, cum seeping out of your precious hole. too turned on by the way your fingers dug against his scalp and the way you tasted to even think about turning down jeonghan when he asked to touch him, groaning against your core as he slowly and teasingly jerked him off. too turned on by it all to even think about not cumming when he was told, fist clenching the now familiar sheets as you rolled off him, panting from the overstimulation. your face was wrecked, tearstained and flushed, as you collapsed into his side, wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your hot face in his neck, his own face not much better. jeonghan proudly announced he was off to take a shower, sucking a line of cum off his thumb before saying that you lovebirds were welcome to stay as long as you would like, fully expecting you two to continue without him as he walked to the bathroom.

seokmin felt shy, for some reason, despite having just having taken a shower with you, and just before, having had sex with you both. you had asked him if he wanted sweats or a shirt to sleep in, saying jeonghan wouldn't mind if he borrowed some. he turned you down, but watched you tug a far too large shirt over your otherwise bare form, and let you lead him back to bed.

"it's a custom mattress," you told him, giggling as you pulled him onto the oversized bed, kneeing yourself to the center and plopping down next to where jeonghan was wasting time on his phone. you planted a kiss on his cheek and he looked up to smile at you before you turned back to seokmin. he noticed the duvet changed, and he wondered if jeonghan had swapped it out after the mess they had made on it. you maneuvered yourself under the covers, gesturing for him to join you. "c'mon," you said. "we cuddle here."

seokmin had never even considered the idea of spending the night in bed with two other people, but found it surprisingly comfortable for it being his first time.

he did a lot of firsts with you, as it turned out.

you started to text him when you were alone and bored, which was something you and jeonghan had discussed with the strict understanding that you would have open and honest talks about it frequently, and that you would let him know any time you reached out to the musician. the first time he ever had phone sex, seokmin was busy at the company he did contract work for, and he had even told you so after the first suggestive text you sent him, but that didn't stop you from sending him increasingly dirty ideas and photos, making him silence his phone and shove it in his back pocket as he tried to focus on his students. when he finally slipped away to a private bathroom, he groaned at the way you looked, laid out on a plush couch and squeezing at your own breasts, with your back arching just so, and he quickly called you to ask if you were trying to get him fired.

"maybe if you get fired, you can come work with me," you whined, fingers already teasing your slick folds just at the low tone in seokmin's voice. his mind whirring as you gasped suddenly, revealing that you had already started. "jeonghan's been too busy for me this week, please don't tell me you are, too."

seokmin's eyes squeezed shut, back hitting the bathroom wall as he pulled himself out of his pants, trying not to drop his phone from his ear as he imagined how absolutely delightful you must look in that moment. "i'm never too busy for you, baby."

jeonghan took him out to dinner. it was normal, mostly, and not the first time since seokmin had seen his dick, but he noticed the older was acting slightly different as seokmin turned the meat on the grill.

"about y/n," he said finally, and seokmin fumbled with a chunk of pork before clearing his throat.

"yeah?"

jeonghan smiled. "she hasn't said it yet, but i think she really likes you."

that made seokmin freeze, suddenly thinking about how he was at dinner with his undefined sext buddy's long term partner. "really?" he squeaked out.

"listen, i want you to know," he said, picking off some cooked meat and chewing it casually. "whatever happens between you two, i'm okay with it. she promised to keep me in the loop, and i trust her."

seokmin nodded, putting down the tongs and grabbing his chopsticks, continuing to avoid eye contact. "okay."

jeonghan laughed. "stop acting like i'm her dad. you and i are in the same relationship with her at this point."

he swallowed, a smile creeping across his face. "well, she does call you daddy."

the next time he saw you, you came to him, appearing at his apartment one early tuesday evening as his last client was leaving. he greeted you casually, but still snuck a quick kiss on your lips as he let you in, his student packing up their guitar. he took your winter coat and told you to make yourself comfortable as they finished up, telling you where the restroom was if you needed it, but in a tone that made you think he was saying it more to announce to his student that you had never been there before than for your comfort, which pulled a quiet giggle from you as he quickly organized his loose leaf sheet music into their designated folders. you watched him from the piano bench as he made short conversation with his student, accepted a check, and bid the aspiring guitarist farewell, closing the door behind them. when you were finally alone, seokmin blushed at the realization that you had been smiling at him the entire time, thinking about how his client must have thought their teacher had gotten himself a cute girlfriend.

you were less forward this time. less needy. you flirted, but not in the outright ways you had every other time seokmin saw you. you stood and joined him by a bookshelf as he put away materials, asking him about his day (quite lovely, especially with this to look forward to), what he had eaten for lunch (he'd gotten ox tail soup delivered as a celebratory meal for a student that just had their first solo piano recital that weekend), and how he managed to command authority in all his students when he always looked so darn cute (he had pitched his eyebrows at you and went "yah," but was unable to keep a straight face long enough to argue with you). you smiled, taking a baseball off the bookshelf and turning it over in your hands, and asked why he invited you over. he cleared his throat, saying he thought it'd be nice to take you out on a proper date, but faltered when your shining eyes caught his.

"a proper date?" you asked, smiling slyly.

"i- uh, yeah, i mean-" he cleared his throat, hand finding the edge of a table as he tried to figure out what he was trying to say. "people generally treat you in exchange for your company, right?"

"generally," you agreed, focusing on his standup piano on the far wall as you thought. "i don't want you to, though."

“i didn’t mean-” he stretched his jaw - a nervous habit that you had begun to notice - as he readjusted his approach, not wanting to imply that he wanted your exchange to be purely transactional. "i just wanna take you out. for real."

you gave him a small smile, knowing what was the case despite your teasing. "okay. it's a date."

to change the subject from one that seokmin clearly didn't know how to continue - and besides, you weren't hungry enough for dinner yet - you returned the baseball to it's display and asked him how he taught his lessons. he laughed, not because your question was funny, but because he didn't know how to answer it in a way that didn't sound like a pitch to a potential client.

"then teach me like a client," you demanded playfully, skipping to sit at the piano bench and turning to grin at him.

seokmin took a moment to look at you, with a knit sweater tucked in the front of a pair of loose jeans - a far cry from the tight fitting, short dresses he normally saw you in - sat in his apartment as the last remnants of sunrays dipped behind the skyline. "you know how to play," he said finally, but walking over to join you anyways.

"teach me like i don't," you said as he sat beside you, scooting over slightly to accommodate. "i'm very good at acting incompetent."

he laughed again. "normally, people pay me for this kind of time, but i'll give you an intro. we'll start with hand placement," he said, gently putting his hands on the keys. "starting position is important, even though you'll be moving around the keys a lot when you actually play. your thumb," he said, wiggling his right thumb and smiling when you giggled. "it starts on c. that's your root."

"oh, right," you vocalised, placing your right hand similarly an octave up from his. "music has a bunch of letters, huh?"

"only the seven," he joked, pulling his hands off the keys as you comfortably set your fingers where they belonged, a motion you clearly made often. "wow, are you sure you're a beginner? you picked that up fast."

you knocked him with your shoulder, giggling. "quick, what do i do next?"

he smiled. "try pressing the keys in order. c to g, thumb to pinky. be firm, this isn't an electric keyboard. it can sense fear."

you sucked on your cheek, smiling at the way seokmin explained things as you played, but used your pinky to strike the black key instead of g, giggling at the flat note. "oh, that sounded wrong. this piano must be out of tune."

"stop," seokmin said teasingly. "beginners don't have that kind of pinky dexterity, by the way."

"maybe i'm a prodigy," you said, grabbing his sleeve with both hands excitedly. "you have to teach me, mr. lee! you're the only one that can help me hone my gift."

"stop it," he repeated, laughing, giving you a fake glare. he put his hands back on the keys. "lesson over."

you pouted, but it was short-lived as he began to play. you watched his hands effortlessly move over each other as you listened to the gentle flowing melody. despite being classically trained yourself, back when you were young and your parents felt you needed the discipline of regular lessons, you found yourself being impressed by his deft finger movements. your eyes shut, and you let your temple fall to his shoulder as you listened.

"yiruma," you said when he stopped playing despite the song not being over.

his arm went over your head, allowing you to lean into his chest as he planted his hand on the bench behind you, your eyes still shut. "you know your stuff."

"it's one of my favorites." you smiled, eyes fluttering open again. "you play well."

your breath stopped in your throat when you realized how close his face was to yours. "have to. people pay me to teach their kids."

"jeonghan pays me to be nice to him, doesn't mean i'm good at it."

seokmin couldn't help but laugh. "how did that even start, by the way? he would never tell me when i asked."

you sighed, straightening your posture. "i suppose you should know, considering this is becoming a regular thing."

"you don't have to if you don't want to," he assured quietly. you smiled at the thoughtfulness. "i'm just curious, is all."

"i don't mind," you said, shaking your head gently at him. you inhaled, organizing your thoughts - this wasn't a subject you explained very often. "i had a scholarship for the first two years of uni, but i would have to pay tuition afterwards, so i decided to become a paid escort to save for it." you paused to study seokmin's reaction, but for the first time from someone other than jeonghan, you found no creased brow, no vague frown. no judgement. "men would hire me through a broker to accompany them to dinner, go to parties, the general stuff. i even played golf a couple times - terribly, obviously, but rich men really enjoy teaching young pretty women how to play golf. i always got a cab ride home at the end of the night, though. never did anything more. jeonghan was one of my clients."

seokmin nodded. "how long did you do that for?"

despite how you would normally take that question, you knew he meant no shame in asking. "ten-ish months? jeonghan was only for the last month or so, though."

"before he asked you to quit?"

you laughed lightly. "actually, someone else asked me to quit. this guy that had been hiring me regularly for almost my entire career. he wanted me to date him properly. i think he wanted a trophy wife. he was young, like, only a few years older than me, and he was nice, y'know? a little awkward in the beginning, but paying someone to go out with you is always a little awkward, and we got comfortable with each other pretty fast. he wanted to take the next step with me, but he wanted the end goal to be marriage."

seokmin adjusted as he thought. "but you said no?"

"i said yes." his wide eyes made you laugh, but you understood his shock. "i was ready to quit anyways, i guess?" you shrugged, shaking your head. "i wanted to go on real dates instead of getting paid to eat with men my parents' age. yukwon felt realistic to me. someone i could see myself with." you sighed. "i went out with jeonghan during my last week of escorting. when i told him i was quitting, he asked me to choose him instead."

he watched you when you paused, pursing your lips. "and then you said no?"

you giggled, bumping against his chest as he laughed with you. "i tried! but jesus, when that guy gets an idea." you shook your head again. "he asked how much yukwon was paying me - which he wasn't, by the way. we were going to do it for real, even though he was still gonna support me financially and pay for my schooling. i was gonna sign a prenup and everything - but jeonghan kept saying he would double it. said i didn't have to marry him, and that he just wanted to keep spending time with me, and if i wanted to call it quits later, i could. no pressure, no sex, no commitment… he gave me a choice, and i realized i didn't love yukwon. i thought i could, but i didn't."

"so he saved you?"

"from a lifetime of settling? i guess so. he's funnier, too," you admitted sheepishly. "i always had the most fun on nights i was with jeonghan."

seokmin smiled. "he is good at lightening the mood."

"and," you said, eyes wide. "he didn't even want us to be exclusive, said i could keep escorting or go on dates with other guys if i wanted, as long as i promised to make time for him when he wanted me. it was kind of the perfect arrangement."

seokmin nodded again. "was, being the operative word?"

you laughed, remembering how well he knew jeonghan. "lasted less than a month. we spent too much time together, and i quickly realized that every time i went out with someone else, i wished i was with him. to be honest, when i met you, i thought this would be a one time thing, so i may have tried to make it seem a little less involved than it is." you sighed. "we never really defined what we were. i think we've both always known that he was more than a sugar daddy to me, but he does basically pay me so that i can keep my schedule open for him, so i guess it's easier to tell people that? instead of everyone assuming i'm some gold digger taking advantage of his money?" you shrugged. "i do love the guy. i'm about 94% sure he loves me, too."

that made him laugh. "how long have you been together?" he asked, trying to figure out the timeline in his head. he had known about jeonghan's relationship with you for quite some time, though not the exact nature of it, or that you were so fantastic, for the mass majority.

"about a year. right before halloween, actually," you said, smiling as you leaned into him. "you were technically an anniversary gift."

his lip quirked upwards, watching you. "was it a good gift?"

"the best," you whispered, placing a slow kiss on his lips. your hand went to his sharp jaw, and you sighed against him as the kiss deepened, suddenly feeling needier than you had previously.

"does he know you're here?" seokmin asked quietly, mind flashing back to when him and jeonghan had gotten dinner together. "like this, i mean."

you nodded slowly, a hand on the bench to steady you as you leaned into him further. "he's in japan this week, told me i could see you as often as i want. just asked that i call him when i can, we spoke this afternoon."

"promise?"

you giggled. "you act like i would risk it. i like you too much, and you know he would make us both regret it if i was seeing you behind his back."

he examined your face, a smile on his lips, knowing it wasn't the part of the statement that he was meant to focus on but unable to think of anything else. "i like you, too."

so he kissed you, sitting on the piano bench in his loft apartment, and despite it being nowhere near the first time, something about it felt special. new. different.

later, though much sooner than later would imply, when the two of you were unable to stop yourselves from undressing each other, he had you seated firmly in his lap on the couch in his living room. the way he filled you out made you incapable of doing much outside of digging your hands in his hair as he rolled his hips up into yours, rambling about how perfect you were. how well you took him. how he had never seen anything as breathtaking as the way your brows stitched together and your mouth hung open as he fucked you. you huffed, twisting your hips slightly, triggering a groan from you both.

"so beautiful," he muttered, hands on your bare hips, rubbing circles into the soft flesh above the bone. "fuck, you're incredible."

"shit, seokmin," you exhaled, forehead falling on his. you knew he wasn't even using all his length, but he was thrusting deep enough into you to make you see stars. "god, i'm close."

you watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips as he focused on you, pulling himself off the couch and sitting up straight as his hips steadily rolled into yours. "come on, babygirl. you know i love the way you feel."

you cursed, arms winding around his neck as you pressed your chest against his, desperately kissing him as you felt yourself falling over the sweet edge. he groaned when you squeezed at him, arms wrapped around your waist, fingers gripping any amount of you he could as he worked you through your bliss. he only slowed to gently put your back to the couch, your legs wrapped around his waist as he curled over you, arms under your body to pull you into his chest, and a hand at the base of your neck to hold you steady as he firmly fucked you into the cushion.

"fuck, baby, you're so good to me," he groaned, forehead pressed just under your jawline, his mouth latching onto your neck as soon as he managed the words. you were gasping for air, arms over his shoulders, wondering if seokmin always made love this deeply and genuinely, or if you were just special.

afterwards, he discarded the condom that he insisted on using (you asked what the point of you getting something shoved into your cervix was if you couldn't enjoy his particularly bountiful creampies with no consequence, but he said he was not getting cum on the couch his clients sit on), pulled his underwear back on, and returned to you quickly, kissing up your body after pulling your panties back over your hips. you ran your fingers through his messy hair, causing him to look up at you. he said sorry, a laugh on his lips, asking if you wanted to get food delivered instead of going out.

"that sounds perfect," you giggled. "don't apologize."

"i'll take you out for real this weekend, i promise," he said, sitting up and stretching out his shoulder. you watched, quietly admiring how gentle and soft he seemed, with surprisingly firm muscles hiding under his usual large sweaters and shirts. "and i'll pick you up so we don't get tempted. but for now, kimchi soup and bibimbap?"

you nodded excitedly, sitting up to wrap your arms around him and planting a kiss on his shoulder. "sounds delicious."

he tried not to get excited by your touch, thinking about how you had said this was becoming a regular thing, and therefore he didn't need to get as much of you as he could before you slipped through his fingers like he had the first few times you met. he couldn't help himself, though, when his eyes met yours and you smiled gently at him, and had no choice but to put an agonizingly slow kiss on your lips before he stood to announce he was changing into something comfortable if you were just going to stay in. you giggled and grabbed your sweater from where it got discarded, pulling it over your head as you told him there was no chance in hell you were putting jeans on again before the morning, and he smiled at the implication that you would be staying the night with him.

"i have lessons tomorrow," he reminded you softly as he gathered up his clothes and walked to the stairs. "if you'd like, you can stick around, but it'll be boring."

you hummed. "i don't have class, but i should do schoolwork," you mused, watching him walk up the steps to what you could assume was his lofted bedroom. "it's been lonely at the house, though."

"if you wanna bring your things here, you can," seokmin suggested, his voice projecting easily through the space. he pulled on a pair of shorts and a more casual shirt than the one he had been wearing for his work day. "it would give you something to do while i teach youths how to play chopsticks. do you stay at jeonghan's when he's not around, too?"

you laughed, thinking about your all but abandoned apartment as you meandered towards the stairs. "lately, yeah. i used to spend more nights at home than in his bed, but he gets really busy planning stuff in the winter and has less time to take me out." you stretched your back. "i think he likes knowing i'll be there when he gets home late. makes the day easier."

seokmin nodded as he came back down, running a hand through his hair, thinking that he, too, would find his days easier if it meant going to bed with you every night. "that's very kind of you."

"it's selfish, i promise." he laughed. "if you saw how tiny my place is, you would choose jeonghan's too. besides, i get cold in bed alone."

he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. "is that why you're here?"

you giggled. "no, i'm here because you invited me over. but that might be a factor in why i'm staying," you teased, hugging him tightly.

the next day, you were sprawled on his bed, writing an accompanying essay for your composition project as he taught lessons down below, only emerging to refill your water glass and use the restroom as infrequently as possible, trying to not disturb his lessons. parents often accompanied the children, usually reading a book and listening to their child practice. a college friend of his stopped by, as he tried to do at least once a month, accompanying his niece, and seokmin recalled that he was the one that had given jeonghan his number again over a year ago, feeling like he should thank him but not knowing how.

"seokmin," you called down softly when you heard him chatting casually with his friend. you padded down the steps with your empty water glass, spotting the young girl at the kitchen table with a marker and a sheet of paper, smiling when you remembered her slightly clumsy, but surprisingly advanced keystrokes, considering her age.

"what's up?" seokmin asked, pushing off of the counter he was leaning against, and he ignored the quick, questioning nudge mingyu pushed into his side.

"hi, sorry," you said, waving lightly when you noticed the tall man beside him. "i was wondering - if you have time - if you could listen to my composition piece and tell me if you think it leans more romantic or more post-great war?"

seokmin nodded. "absolutely. do you need me now, or can it wait ten minutes?"

"it can wait," you assured, eyes darting between the two men. you lifted the glass in your hand. "i needed a break."

he smiled, taking your glass and moving to pull open the fridge. "this is mingyu, by the way. mingyu, y/n. he's an architect, also."

"also?" mingyu asked, eyeing you. seokmin stared at you, realizing what he said.

your brows ruffled as you studied the tall man's face, not recognizing it. "we must not be in the same social group. i'm a friend of jeonghan's."

he gave you silent thanks for keeping the relationship ambiguous. mingyu, however, nearly yelled. "yoon jeonghan?" he laughed. "you know, i didn't even see that guy at his own halloween party. you still keep in touch, i assume, seokmin?"

he nodded, putting your filled water glass on the counter beside you, and you wondered how you never saw mingyu at the party, either. "yeah, we hang out fairly often."

"he introduced us," you interjected. mingyu smiled between you two. "thought we'd match well, i guess."

"well, you just asked a music teacher to review your composition, so," mingyu laughed. "he was right?"

seokmin studied you with a crooked smile on his lips. "have you ever known yoon jeonghan to be wrong?"

you stayed another, more innocent night, but when seokmin woke the next morning, his face was pressed against the side of you neck, and you were pushing your ass back against his morning wood.

"fuck, good morning," seokmin groaned, hands gripping at your hips where they had already been aimlessly floating.

"oh, thank god you're awake," you panted out. you spun in his grasp, pushing his shoulder back on the bed and climbing atop him. "you must have been having a fantastic dream, because you would not stop touching me."

he couldn't help the whine in his throat, mostly from embarrassment. "i'm so sorry."

"don't be," you rushed out, peeling off your shirt. "i just need you now."

considering this was his third time seeing it, he didn't think he would be so awestruck still, but the snapshot of you, topless, seated on his lap with your hands on his chest was a view that seokmin would likely never get over, because it felt like he was the dorky, awkward protagonist and you were the long-shot love interest that was way too cool and way too hot for him in this cliché coming of age comedy.

you kissed him, and he pushed your hips down to grind against his lap, pulling a gasp from your lips. he took the opportunity to bring a hand to your neck, pulling you into open mouth kisses. you moaned without shame as you rolled your hips.

"you know what jeonghan told me?" you asked, pulling back to tug his underwear just far enough down to release the member you couldn't stop thinking about.

you straddled his lap, hands on your thighs. seokmin pushed his bare cock against your core, the wet fabric sticking lightly to his length. "what, baby?"

"he told me he wanted you to plug me up," you breathed, biting your lip when seokmin used a thumb to pull aside your underwear and drag your wetness across his dick. you moaned. "he wanted you to fuck me senseless and tell him all about it."

seokmin groaned, neck stretching out. "i can do that."

"no, baby," you said, bringing his free hand to your face and putting a kiss in his palm before you lifted yourself up, his thumb still hooked on your panties as you rubbed the head of his cock through your folds. "i wanna fuck you."

you sunk down onto him, jaw dropping. he smiled lightly, running his hands down your thighs. "i'll let you if you can."

your toes clenched, and you tried to maintain face. "i can."

seokmin folded his arms under his head, trying to avoid the temptation of fucking up into your warmth. he sighed, breathing out a "go on, then."

you put your hands on his chest and bounced on him several times, biting at your lip at how wide he stretched you out, but taking too much pride in the way his eyes hung half lidded and his breathy groaning to stop.

your hands went to his neck, leaning forward, lifting his head slightly off the pillow to kiss him, his hands falling from behind his head to hold yours, stopping you from pulling away.

he moaned into your open mouth, and you backed up for only a second to blearily meet his eyes as he panted. "baby."

you nodded, stealing a few more messy kisses. "yes?"

he groaned again, your hips twisting over his. "you're like a dream."

you could feel the heat radiating off your neck and cheeks, but you just pushed on his chest to sit upright, hands landing on his thighs. you moaned again, unapologetically, as you rotated your hips over his, and he bucked into you at the angle change. "if this is the dream, please don't wake up."

seokmin had a sneaking suspicion that he was in love with you, or at the very least falling towards it. the confirmation of this fact threw itself in his face, not when you proved that you could fuck him, sitting deeply on him to push his cum further in, or when you squealed and giggled as he threw your back onto the bed so that he could pull your underwear off proper and bury his tongue in your heat, but afterwards, when he wandered into the kitchen after using the restroom and found you wearing one of his shirts, waiting as his electric kettle bubbled to life, his favorite blue mug on the counter beside a white one - the white one, he realized, with the finger heart design that he had chosen for your coffee the day prior. and he told you so, rushing to explain himself and assure you that you didn’t have to say it back, but you just hushed him and smiled, saying that you loved him too.

seokmin had to go to the entertainment company that afternoon. you walked with him to the station near his apartment and he sat you in a cab, a kiss on your lips, before he hurried down to catch his ride to work. he breathed heavily when he could finally lean against a wall in the train, having to run to catch it before the doors closed.

seokmin❣️: almost didn't make the train 🙃

you: but you did!!! proud of you 👍

seokmin❣️: thanks 🥴💕

you were both smiling after that.

he took you out to eat that weekend, as promised, and you had honestly forgotten what it was like to date people that weren't jeonghan. you liked riding the subway with him (you couldn't even remember the last time you took it), and you thought it was cute that he let you stand against a wall to keep easy balance as he stood in front of you. you were slightly impressed that he barely rocked with the movement, only grabbing an overhead loop when the train was pulling into a station.

"wait, you're especially pretty right now," he said suddenly, leaning forward to inspect your eyes.

your head hit the wall gently in reaction, flushing at his comment, wanting to bury your face in your scarf. "thank you."

he gave you his signature crooked smile. "of course."

it was cold out, but seokmin wrapped his hand over yours, shoving the whole ordeal into his coat pocket as he walked you down the street towards the restaurant he had picked. you giggled, squeezing his hand in his pocket, but he just continued telling you about which of the trainees he was working with seemed like they would debut.

"jiyoon composes, too! i'm really impressed with her actually," he said, trailing off when he saw the sign for the restaurant. "ah, here it is."

you thanked him when he held the door open for you, and you were immediately struck with the smell of tomato, cheese, and bread.

"i haven't had pizza in ages," you said excitedly, following him to a table.

"don't tell me," seokmin said, helping you take off your jacket and hanging it on a hook at the end of the booth. "you guys don't order pizza?"

you shook your head, sliding into the booth comfortably. "not often. jeonghan likes asian food."

seokmin froze as he was pulling off his jacket to stare at you. "what about you?"

"i like eating."

he laughed. "well, i like pizza."

after dinner, you insisted he come back to the house with you. he said he didn't know, thinking that you would probably need your energy for when jeonghan got home the next day. you pouted, knitting your fingers with his as the two of you stood on the sidewalk outside the pizza place.

"but i really wanna show you my record collection," you said, batting your eyelashes at him.

that was all it took.

you discovered that there was a bus stop near jeonghan's home, and while you would likely never take a bus without seokmin, you thought it was a good nugget of information to tuck away as you marched through the front door of the estate you practically called home.

"welcome to yoon manor," you joked, spinning to smile at seokmin.

he looked around, and despite having been here before, it felt grander coming through the main entrance and without the distraction of party guests. he had seen it empty briefly, from a different angle, when you were pulling him up to your bed a few weeks prior, but he realized he hadn't actually been able to see much when you were the focus of his attention.

"the kitchen's that way, there's a bathroom," you said, pointing at the opening past the stairs as you pulled off your scarf. you folded it over your arm as you walked further into the home, seokmin following you closely. you walked past a partial wall, pointing further down the hall that held the secondary living space that he originally met you in. "there's a bathroom to the left there, and if you go to the end of the hall there's an open sunroom."

seokmin looked around the room you stood in, recognizing it in bits and pieces, but it looking much different without a crowd and flashing lights.

"and this is the living room," you said, spreading your arms as you spun to him. "tv, couch, bar, and most importantly," you giggled, tugging him towards the far wall of the room, which was covered in deep toned shelving, speakers, and a record player. "my record collection."

you took off your jacket as seokmin looked around in awe, noticing you had select autographed records displayed alone on picture ledges with spotlights pointed at them. one picture ledge was empty, centered just above the player. you tossed your coat into the couch, pulling seokmin's off his shoulders as well, despite his distraction.

"these are all yours?" he asked, turning to look at you after you had discarded the coats.

you nodded, spinning the felt of the record player mindlessly as you looked around. "i actually had started a collection years ago, but i couldn't make an excuse to spend the money on it very often. jeonghan gave me a pretty good excuse. also, whenever he pissed me off, he knew he could take me to a record shop and i would forgive him."

seokmin laughed. "does that happen a lot?"

"not as often as you'd think, considering what an ass he is," you teased. you gestured to the collection. "this is my baby, though. the house is his, but this wall is mine."

"well, play me a record," seokmin requested plainly, making you smile into a laugh.

"okay," you said, scooting past him to pull out one of the many cube drawers amidst the shelving. you flipped through a few. "dancing music?"

seokmin watched your hands, humming. "slow dancing, but, like, in a nostalgic discoteque."

you thought for a second, then closed the drawer to move to a different one, quickly flipping through and finding the record you wanted. you pulled the lp out, putting the bright blue sleeve with five smiling men on the empty picture ledge.

seokmin wrapped his arms around you as you set the record, striking the play button and enjoying the whirring as the lp spun, the needle connecting and the speakers scratching to life. you spun in his grip, laying your arms over his shoulders as he pulled you away from the record stand, into a more open space to playfully dance to the soulful bass lines and pop melodies of new edition.

"this house is insane, right?" seokmin asked, squinting at you as you laughed and nodded.

"it really is. the craziest part is he's still working on it."

"really?" seokmin looked around. "what else could he wanna change?"

you let your eyes wander. "i think it's a work in progress for him. the sunroom was brand new when we met, and he added this record display last winter, when i told him i always wanted to collect. the bar is new," you pointed. "he finished that in october. the kitchen was a summer project."

he blinked heavily, trying to register. "does he do all the work himself?"

"his team helps him," you explained. "he has a few contractors he works with and they manage the construction projects, but every once in a while i wake up on a sunday and he's cutting wood in the garage because he got an idea. he drafts all the changes, usually participates in the build, and picks most of the furniture, but he has people to collect the options for him."

"and he also does all that for other people, too?" you nodded, giggling. "and has time to take you to events almost every weekend?"

"i know. i didn't understand how he found the time until i realized that he just gets paid to do his hobby."

seokmin nodded. "me too, i guess."

you grinned. "me three. you should stay with us more," you suggested, rocking with him gently. "he'll be late tomorrow, but he's working from home this week…"

"hush," seokmin chuckled. "i have to work. besides, i'm sure he wants you alone after letting me claim you while he’s been gone."

"about that," you said, pulling away slightly to give him a cheeky smile. "i haven't gotten him to admit it yet, but i think jeonghan has a crush on you."

seokmin choked out a laugh. "what? me?"

"seokmin," you started, giving him a look. "he wanted you to join us for sex. more than once."

"okay," he scoffed lightly. "people have sex just for the sex sometimes," he pointed out, but in a tone that had no chance at convincing anyone.

"sure," you giggled. "but think about it. he kept me to himself all this time, and suddenly he's encouraging us to see each other without him? asking me about everything we do together..."

he swallowed. "everything?"

"everything," you breathed, eyes trained on his lips. "he knows i'll always go back to him, and i think he's hoping i'll bring you with me."

he blinked at you, processing. "is that what you're doing? bringing me back to him?"

"only if that's something you're interested in," you stated, cocking your head.

"him, you mean?"

you thought a second. "yes?"

you watched him blink repeatedly, seemingly considering the concept. he thought back to all the nights that became early mornings, laughing and joking with the architect since before he had even an ounce of notoriety. he thought of how jeonghan had reached out to him again a few long years later, and the way he had insisted on paying every time they got food. he wondered if there had been something happening that he hadn't noticed, his oblivious nature getting the best of him again. he thought about when things changed, when they met less often and jeonghan seemed quieter around him. and months later, when he started mentioning you.

"maybe," he said finally, mind whirling. "i don't know, i've never thought about it."

you nodded, putting your arms over his shoulders and swaying lightly to the music. "take your time," you said, smiling when his forehead pressed against yours. "we'll wait for you."

#this is my life's thesis #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagines #dokyeom fluff #dokyeom imagines #jeonghan smut #dokyeom smut #poly seokhan au #i wrote dis #hannie #sunshine #i love this one yall #my magnum opus #i cant wait to post the rest <3

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 4 years

Text

[that’s just what the cold really is]

Sometimes I wake up at one o’clock in the morning to drink some tea and write a briolet oneshot.

Don’t ask why because I don’t know what this is either.

Read on AO3

---

Frost kisses the glass, starting from the wooden frame and spreading across the window. Violet stares past the ice, allowing her mind to clear itself, content to exist and be. How long has she sat there, cross-legged on her desk, watching the stillness of the night? Who knows. Long enough for her nose to become cold enough it stung to breathe through it.

Pressing a finger against the foggy glass, Violet glides it across to draw two eyes and a smile. Dumb and lopsided, she thinks, before smearing away one of the eyes.

With a sigh, Violet climbs off the desk, stiff muscles wincing as her bare feet hit the hardwood floors, so cold it almost hurts to walk.

Another sleepless night in the beginnings of winter, not an unusual occurrence these days. Not when thoughts of the undead and loved ones long lost haunt the most inner workings of her mind, and not when the cold irritates her eye to the point where she could just rub it better.

If only she could put some pressure on it, warm it up enough to be uncomfortably comfortable, but the healing process for the loss of an eyeball is apparently a long and agonizing one. Possibly more so than the actual removal itself, though that’s debatable-- Violet doesn’t have nightmares about healing.

No, these days she still has nightmares about a cell much colder than her dorm, about disfigured faces holding her down as she struggles, spitting more curses than pleas. Lilly’s smug voice echoes in her ear from far away and a woman with a cold, dead stare hovers over her, knife in hand as she commands her to stay still.

Violet reaches her arm out to grab the bar belonging to the top bunk of her bed, the metal cold enough to burn her fingertips. She lets her hand drag along it as she makes her way closer to the door. She wouldn’t want to accidentally walk too close and stub her toe again.

The hallway’s just as dark and still, and it occurs to her that it might be dangerous to walk around here barefoot. Sure, the school’s clearer than it’s ever been thanks to Ruby putting her foot down about everyone being a bunch of pigs, but that doesn’t mean Violet won’t step on a missed piece of glass or a tracked in rock.

Does that scare her enough to turn around and head back into the forlorn darkness of her dorm to try and get some sleep?

Violet makes it down the hall with ease, keeping a hand dragging along to wall to steady her. Not that she really needs to do that. It’s not like she’s completely blind. She still has one eye that’s as good as new, but having only one good eye makes for some poor depth perception most of the time.

The outside chill cuts right through the thin material of her shirt, sinking down into her bones to bring involuntary tremors through her limbs. Rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm them, she ventures into the yard, setting her sight on the stairs leading into the admin building.

She doubts anyone will be in the music room tonight, though she is a little hopeful that Louis might be there. She’d enjoy a song or two tonight, she thinks. He could always was make her laugh, and perhaps that’s what she needed right now.

Louis has his fair share of sleepless nights, and like her, he wanders out here to the music room. Work out frustrations by ‘tickling the ivories,’ as he puts it, or to comfort himself after a bad dream. Violet just hopes that if he’s here tonight that he’s alone. While she enjoys the company of both Louis and Clementine, the two of them being in there together at this time of night probably wouldn’t be the most innocent outing. Violet’s lone eye can only unsee so many things.

“Jesus,” she curses. A particularly harsh gust of wind nearly knocks her down as she climbs the stairs. “Yeah, great, thanks for that.”

Well, if they are in there together, at least they aren’t freezing their asses off.

Violet glares up at the sky, wrinkling her nose at the thought.

Hell, even if they’re both back at the dorms, they’re still warmer together than Violet is out here by herself. Everyone who remains in their bed is warmer than her. Probably.

Her face softens, gaze falling down to the steps beneath her.

Maybe cold nights exist as a reason to drawer people closer to one another, to seek and feel the natural warmth only they could provide. Except what does that mean for those who are cold but lonely? Maybe that’s just what the cold really is, Violet thinks.

Loneliness. Huh.

Shit.

Maybe it’s her pride or the fact that she’s never felt weaker than she has the past six or so months after escaping the delta’s clutch, leaving her eye with them. Fronting that she’s tougher than she really is made her feel better, acting as though she’s content being alone or that she doesn’t need to rely on others for help even if she knows it’s bullshit.

Doing this always bit her in the ass on nights just like this one.

It’s silent within the admin building, so it’s safe to conclude that Louis isn’t here.

She’d never admit her disappointment aloud, but that doesn’t stop the feeling from tugging at her gut. She really hoped he’d be here, hoped they could talk for a while. For as loud and obnoxious as Louis could be, he could listen just as well, be just as quiet and sincere. It’s stupid now to think that she once thought him incapable of serious, deep conversation, not that she ever gave him much of a chance. Not that he gave her much of a chance, either.

Just a couple of dumbasses, she thinks. Oh well.

Violet turns the corner to see the door to the music room wide open, inviting her in. Moonlight leaks in through the curtain slits, reflecting off the floor and the old piano. Strangely, it doesn’t feel as cold in here. At least, not as much as it is outside, or even in the hallway.

She approaches the piano, contemplating if she should sit down. She has no idea how to play, nor does she have any desire to. Resting a hand on the worn-out wood, she curiously admires the inner workings of the piano with all its strings and doohickeys.

Louis offered to teach her once, and she told him that piano music sucks. He never made another offer.

“Vi?”

Violet nearly jumps a foot in the air.

Whipping around, she finds Brody curled up on the couch with a thin blanket over her leg and a mug in hand, wide eyes gazing up at her.

“Shit, sorry,” Brody apologizes, setting her mug on the table beside the armrest. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Just didn’t think you saw me and I didn’t want to be, well, creepin’ over here without ya knowin.’”

Violet presses a hand against her frantic heart, taking a deep breath and nodding.

“No, yeah, definitely didn’t see you. Y’know,” she motions to the patch over her eye, “blind spot.”

Brody seems to stiffen up, but gives an unsure nod, face falling as she glances down at her hands. She stretches out her legs, making like she’s going to stand but changes her mind.

Violet frowns, silently scolding herself.

“What’re you doin’ up?” Brody finally asks.

Violet gives a halfhearted shrug.

“Can’t sleep. Obviously.”

“Your eye?”

“Among other things.”

Brody nods once more, and Violet can’t help but stare at her, even though Brody can probably feel it. Even from here, and with her vision impairment, Brody’s scare is harshly prominent against her more delicate features. Right above her brow, long and discolored now, fully healed.

Violet almost scoffs aloud. Fucking Marlon. She hopes he’s freezing his ass off living down in the old train station now. After what he did to Brody, after finding out what he did to Minnie and Sophie, they kicked him out of Ericson. And even after everything with the raiders, after Marlon helped them escape the boat before it exploded, he’s still not welcome here.

Well, more so Marlon decided it’d be in everyone’s best interest if he didn’t live at Ericson anymore, instead settling in the train station so that he was close enough if they ever needed him. Everyone agreed, even Louis. That was a surprise, but he agreed that Marlon being here with them wouldn’t work anymore, and maybe knowing where Marlon was and that he was safe helped Louis be content with the decision.

Violet’s just glad she doesn’t have to see him every day, and that he’s far away from Brody, but even gone he’s left marks all over this school... all over Brody’s face.

“What about you?” Violet asks to break the awkward pause. “Can’t sleep either?”

“Nah,” Brody finally looks at her, tucking a wild strand of hair behind her ear. Bedhead, Violet thinks. Funny. “Tossin’ and turnin’ don’t suit me. If I’m gonna be awake, I might as well be outta bed and doin’ something.”

“Something like sitting in the dark like a weirdo?”

That gets a small smile from Brody.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that,” she says. “Just wanted some tea and a change of scenery. Wasn’t expecting company...” she trails off, but keeps her gaze on Violet as she quietly adds, “but it’s a welcome surprise.”

Violet almost smiles despite herself, having to bite the inside of her cheek.

Ever since they lost the twins, things have been rocky with Brody. After Clementine and AJ showed up, Violet felt for the first time in a so long that her friendship with Brody was salvageable, that maybe they could be close again. Clementine forced her to see what was really bothering her about Brody and why things were so shitty between them, and Violet found herself wanting to fix it.

Then the truth Marlon and Brody were hiding from them came out, and Violet was beyond pissed. Even with Brody lying in bed, bandages wrapped around her head and her skin sticky and pale, Violet hated her.

Yeah, hated her. Hated her for lying to her face for over a year, for keeping that secret to hide her and Marlon’s guilt, for trying to grow close with her knowing what she had done.

Violet never fathomed that she’d ever forgive Brody, but then Brody healed and could explain everything.

Then the raiders attacked, and she and Brody were taken away, forced to share a cell on the raider’s boat. When Violet failed to cooperate, and they... well, Brody was the one to hold her, sob into her shoulder from within that cell.

Suddenly, a lot of things didn’t seem to matter anymore.

“You want some tea?” Brody offers, holding up her own mug. “It’s minty.”

“No, no...” Violet shakes her head, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

“It’ll warm ya up. Can see ya shakin’ from over here.”

“Maybe I like the cold.”

“No one likes the cold.”

“Maybe I do.”

Brody rolls her eyes, throwing the blanket off and standing. Over by the fireplace, she lights a match to ignite her makeshift warmer to boil more water.

Violet abandons the piano, finding a place on the opposite side of the couch as Brody wanders about the room, humming to herself. She comes back with another blanket, this one heavier. Violet accepts gratefully, covering her body up to her chin.

Brody hands her to streaming mug, the scent of warm mint clearing her senses. Violet can’t help but groan after taking a sip, the heat spreading through her body.

“Good?”

“It’s okay,” Violet lies. ”I guess.”

Brody smiles. Violet wonders how close she’ll sit now that she’s here, but Brody doesn’t move to do so. Instead, she grabs one of the candles off the piano, flicking a match to light it. Violet raises a brow up at her, which Brody meets with a playful shrug.

“it’s cold,” she says simply, setting the candle down on the small round table.

Violet can’t help it. She laughs. That makes Brody smile.

Her laughter dies when the couch dips with Brody’s weight beside her.

“C’mon,” Brody grins, tugging at the comforter. “Don’t be a hog.”

Violet doesn’t bother putting up a fight, lifting the blanket to let Brody scoot closer. Shoulder to shoulder, they get comfortable.

“Y’know what I miss?” Brody asks.

“Summer?”

“No-- well, actually yes, I do miss summer, but that’s not what I was gonna say,” she brings her long legs us, tucking them beneath her. This makes her lean more into Violet and it takes all her concentration to not spill hot tea over her hands. “I was thinkin’ that I miss jerky.”

“Jerky?”

“Yeah. I used to go on these trips once a year with my dad to see my grandpa. Was always just to two of us, and we’d be on the road for hours, but we’d stop at this gas station-- the same one every time, and he’d get us these long sticks of spicy jerky that you could barely chew without feelin’ like ya were gonna break a tooth.”

“Gross,” Violet wrinkles her nose. “Ever break a tooth?”

“Nah, not really. Sure made my jaw sore by the time I was finished, though. Take ya about an hour to get through the whole thing properly. But Daddy said that was the point. Ya gotta chew it long enough to get all the flavor outta it, otherwise, it’s just a waste.”

“He couldn’t’ve brought you a hotdog or something?”

“You ever have a hotdog from a gas stop?” Brody makes a gagging noise. “Wouldn’t be surprised if those things were made of roadkill off the highway.”

“How’s that any different than what we eat now?” Violet asks, teasing. “It’s just in stew form instead.”

“I’ll tell him you compared his famous stew to flea-bitten roadkill.”

“Do it,” Violet challenges with a smirk, setting her tea aside. “I can take him.”

Brody snorts out a laugh, hand flying up to cover her mouth to muffle the outburst, managing an, “Oh god,” out.

Once Brody gets a hold of herself, Violet says, “Never had jerky like that. Though I didn’t go on many road trips.”

“We could go on one,” Brody suggests lightly, nudging her. “Get away from here, go find a beach somewhere and sit in the sun.”

“Only if I get to drive.”

Brody, a soft smile tugging at her lips, wraps an arm around Violet’s shoulders to pull her close, gently rubbing more heat into her arm.

Despite the heaviness in Violet’s stomach, it flutters at the feeling of her body pressed against Brody’s. She hesitates, but eventually leans into the warmth of her side, resting her head in the crook of Brody’s neck while slipping her arms around her waist.

“Can’t tell anyone we’re goin,’ though,” Brody mumbles. “I’m not spending days in a car with Louis and his singalongs.”

“Twenty-five bottles of beers on the wall, twenty-five bottles of beer-”

“Oh god.”

“-take one down--”

“No!”

“-pass it around-”

Brody’s hand presses over Violet’s mouth to silence her, all while the both of them laugh together. For the first time that night, Violet doesn’t feel a single chill prick at her skin. She pulls Brody’s hand from her face, holding it in her own. When Brody doesn’t pull away, she takes a risk in lacing their fingers together.

Brody squeezes her hand back in approval.

The laughter dies down. Brody pulls the blanket closer over them, and together they sit for a while.

Just as Violet’s eye begins to droop shut, the fatigue finally hitting her, Brody’s lips press against her forehead. Violet thinks to turn her head up to kiss Brody back, really kiss her, but doesn’t.

Too tired, too comfortable, too warm.

Violet allows sleep to take her.

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ericsonclan · 3 years

Text

A Halfling Jig

Summary: After a successful quest, the group settles in for a night of food and merriment.

Word Count: 1911

Read on A03:

The tavern was warm and bright as the group piled inside. Upon entering, the halflings’ eyes lit up. They were excited for food. Louis, Violet and Omar scurried over to place the orders while the others looked round for a table. They settled for a large one in the corner. While a booth would be cozier, it was better to choose seating where they could pull up as many chairs as possible and accommodate larger beings like Marlon. High stools were grabbed from over by the bar for the halflings while the harpies settled on perching atop the backs of others’ chairs. Eventually they had all found their places except for Rosie who had to wait outside. Though the tavern was race-inclusive, wargs were still not allowed indoors.

Marlon looked toward the door worriedly, his tusks sticking out even further as his mouth turned down in a frown. “I don’t like leaving Rosie outside alone. Maybe I should go out there with her…”

“And miss all the fun?” Louis exclaimed. “We should be celebrating! We just got paid! And we’re all alive!”

“That’s certainly a miracle,” Aasim muttered, straightening his robes in annoyance. “If I never see another owlbear for as long as I live, I’ll take that as a blessing,”

“Willy wishes we’d captured one,” Willy commented, his thin, pale arms draped haphazardly over the table. “Rosie could have had a friend,”

Prisha shook her head. “They were beyond domestication. Besides, there was quite the bounty on them. The villagers of Heldenfeld can rest safely now and we can eat well,”

“Speaking of eating…” Omar looked in excitement toward the full trays that were being brought their way.

“Here’s the first few rounds,” the barmaid said, setting the trays before them. “Extra cheese just as requested. The ale will be along shortly,”

They thanked her and began to dig in, some like Prisha and Aasim taking their designated portions while many of them simply grasped whatever pieces caught their eye and stuffed the food into their eager mouths. Their conversations continued, loud and jovial as food and drink were passed around.

Sophie noticed Marlon was still looking unhappy despite the good food. Brushing her feathers against his side, she drew his attention. “Hey, you wanna grab a plate and get out of here? We can go sit with Rosie if you want,”

Marlon’s face lit up at the offer. “Really? Ok, let’s go!” The two of them grabbed as much food as they could carry, ignoring the protests of their friends, and ran out the door. Though the food they took and their company were missed, the group appreciated the extra space Marlon’s absence left.

Mitch moved over to sit next to Brody, tossing his legs up on the table and leaning back, his arms behind his head. “So, Brody, didya think I looked awesome today or what?”

Brody paused in her conversation with Ruby, turning from the dwarf to give Mitch an unimpressed smirk. “What, when you tried to lasso that one owlbear and nearly got trampled? I think Willy showed more prowess in today’s quest than you. He actually rode one of them,” They both looked over at the goblin who was busy picking his nose as he talked to Tenn perched behind him.

Mitch scoffed. “Well, you obviously missed it! There was one point where I was standing right on top of one of those fuckers. You tell her, Minnie!”

Minnie looked up from preening one of her wings. “What?”

“Tell her about how cool I looked riding that owlbear!”

“Oh, that! Mitch is right. He did look pretty cool… until his pants started falling down. That’s what you get for using your belt as part of your lasso,”

All three girls were laughing at Mitch to his great embarrassment and annoyance. He downed his drink, mumbled something about getting more ale, and headed over to the bar.

Meanwhile, Louis was impressing A.J. with his ability to balance spoons on his face. Each time he added another, the child clapped in glee, asking him if he could fit even more. Clementine watched on with a smile. She was glad to see A.J. fitting into the group so well. The halflings seemed to have adopted him as one of their own even though at less than ten years old he already was beginning to tower over them. It was good to see him entertained and laughing, enjoying childish things rather than scavenging for food on the street.

Clementine still couldn’t believe this chaotic bunch had stuck together this many months. Every day they found themselves falling into another adventure and every night they camped together underneath the stars. She was afraid to think of it as such, but at times their motley group almost felt like a family. She hoped their good fortune would last.

Meanwhile, Prisha had found herself admiring the halfling Violet from across the top of her mug of ale. Over these last few weeks, she’d found herself noticing her striking features more and more: her sharp jawline, large upper lip, strong nose. Prisha hadn’t come across too many halflings in her years of roaming, but if Omar, Louis and Clementine were good indicators of common halfling features, then Violet was the anomaly. While their faces were soft, rounded and pleasant, hers was sculpted with keen edges. She certainly was a fascinating being.

Violet seemed to notice Prisha’s gaze. She looked up at her, silently pushing forward her plate of food. Had she thought she wanted part of her meal?

Too embarrassed to admit she’d been staring, Prisha took a piece of her bread, dipping it in her ale before quietly chewing on it, her observations less conspicuous now.

Her eyes drifted over to Aasim now, who was regaling Ruby with some of the theories historians had posited behind the origins of owlbears. The dwarf seemed to be listening with some interest, nodding along to his narrative and asking questions from time to time. Aasim’s head was turned away from Prisha, but she could just imagine the dopey grin on the high elf’s face. He truly was smitten. Now if only he could admit that fact to himself.

---

As the night drifted on and the drinks kept coming, the group found themselves pleasantly inebriated. Clementine and Minnie offered to put the younger members to bed, hauling A.J. and Tenn off of their seats despite their protests. No one was quite sure how old Willy was but he decided to join the early bedtime crew as well, scurrying up the stairs behind them to the rooms they had reserved. This left the rest of the group ready to have as much fun as they wanted till the wee hours of the morning.

Marlon and Sophie had returned after settling Rosie down in the stables for the night. Somehow Mitch got the idea into his head that a drinking contest between him and Marlon was a good idea though the half orc outweighed him by at least ten stone. With reckless abandon, the two embarked on their drinking contest, most of the others watching from the sidelines and cheering them on. Marlon was sure to be the winner but Mitch remained stubbornly oblivious to this fact, guzzling down pints of ale as fast as he could manage. He was determined to last as long as possible.

The halflings, while not participating in a drinking competition, were able to tuck their ale away at an impressive rate. Once the fervor of Mitch and Marlon’s competition had died down and both contestants laid back in a drunken stupor, the Meadowvale halflings decided it was their turn to lead the party. Stepping up onto the table, the three of them began dancing together, linking arms and twisting and turning round and round the table. As they danced their jig, they sang a tune together, a traditional reel about warm homes, tasty food and plentiful ale. Louis sang the loudest but Omar and Violet seemed to be enjoying the song and dance just as much, their faces shining from the ale and the exercise.

Prisha clapped along to the beat of their song, getting caught up in the excitement of it all. The halflings’ feet stomped upon the table, the emptied plates clanking and rattling underneath them. Seeing their appreciative audience, Louis motioned for the others to join in the dance as well. Mitch and Marlon were down for the count and Brody too shy despite the halflings’ pleas. The halflings looked round the table, wondering if they could convince anyone to learn their jig. Violet’s eyes caught Prisha’s. Perhaps on impulse in the excitement of the moment she reached her hand out in invitation before her eyes fell in embarrassment.

Prisha wasn’t sure what possessed her in that moment, whether the mirth of the moment or the way the ale and dancing had deepened the blush upon Violet’s cheeks, but she found herself taking the halfling’s proffered hand and joining her atop the table. The group broke out in raucous applause upon seeing the usually stoic wood elf letting loose. The halflings were elated, all three jumping round her and exclaiming how wonderful it was of her to join. They immediately began teaching her the steps to the jib, dancing and singing and believing in her ability to immediately follow along.

It was harder than Prisha had expected. Her feet were so much larger than theirs and seemed to misstep with each new move, knocking plates onto the ground to everyone’s amusement despite the innkeeper’s complaints. The halflings didn’t give up on her though and neither did Prisha. After a couple rounds of the song she had found the rhythm and was singing along to the tune, matching the halflings’ steps with her own. The others applauded as they watched the playful number once more, cheering the dancers on.

Now that there were four dancers there came a point in the song where the halflings split into pairs. Louis and Omar danced round and round each other, linking and unlinking arms in an endless cycle. Prisha and Violet found themselves paired together. Joining hands, they began to dance, circling each other again and again. Prisha couldn’t help but laugh, the joy of the dance bubbling out of her. Her braid spun with her, whirling out as she turned.

Though half her height, Violet continued to lead Prisha, her hands gently guiding her each step of the way as they crossed the length of the table. The introverted halfling seemed just as happy as Prisha to be dancing together. The smile never left her face as they danced, hearts pounding and voices loud as the jig went on and on.

When all four finally tired, the two girls turned to each other one final time. Not knowing what else to do, Prisha curtseyed, her head dipping low in thanks for the dance. Violet awkwardly returned the gesture.

Stepping down from the table, the dancers settled back on their chairs, calling for one last round of drinks to end the night on. The conversation turned to their next adventure: where to go and what they would fight. The truth was they’d take whatever quest fell into their hands but they could dream of whatever they wanted. The tavern lights remained bright and warm as they sat together, full bellies and hazy minds leaving each of them cozy and satisfied.

#twdg #fantasy hijinks au #fanfic #twdg marlie #twdg prisha #twdg violet #twdg privet #twdg moody

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pluviophile-bookworm · 5 years

Text

Thoughts/ reaction to AWAE 3x6

That opening scene of the preparations for the county fair makes me nostalgic for some reason. Also, I need this background music in my life. I love AWAE's cold opens.

And... we're off to a bad start. I have a terrible cold and so does Anne. I know exactly how that feels. And to have something important coming up as well... Poor Anne.

Matthew and his radish are the expected golden content of this episode and I'm all in for it.

If this episode consisted of nothing but the colourful everyday life at the Cuthbert household, I would still love it as much as any other episode. Maybe even more than some.

Gilbert is making me laugh. How is a white shirt key in making a good impression to anyone? If anything, I wouldn't seek the approval of people whose opinion of me depends on a white shirt. And what does he need Winifred's parents' approval for? Is he marrying her now? As far as I can remember, he wanted to marry Anne last week. Seriously, Blythe, make up your mind!

"Not thinking that far ahead", my butt! Last week, as far as I remember, you were thinking that far ahead. With Anne in mind.

And there goes our dashing young hero... Who can't figure out whom he likes. Seriously, I want to like Gilbert because I love Gilbert, but he's not making it very easy for me.

Anne is the classical Smitten Teenage Girl™ in this scene.

"Special occasion? - No, not really." Yeah, right, that's why you tried on every single one of your virtually identical white shirts a scene ago. But we wouldn't want Anne's family to think you're dressing up for another girl, would we now?

What is Anne sneaking out for? Since when does she need to sneak out to visit Diana? She's not Jerry.

Diana knows things about Gilbert's subconscious that he's hidden away so carefully that he doesn't even remember they're there: "Maybe it was an excuse... To see you."

Minnie May makes such a good Diana impression... Am I a bad person for thinking that maybe she could be the kind of daughter her mother wants, while Diana embraces her happiness with Jerry?

Look at Anne almost quoting the source material... and I think the comparison with Elizabeth and Darcy is quite accurate, at least on account of my reactions to both couples. I mean, you have two individuals who are very obviously made for each other but will go out of their way to convince everyone, including and especially themselves, that they’re not. Also, Anne reminds me so much of Elizabeth Bennet, AWAE Anne in particular. And of course, this line means that all the visual parallels were on purpose! Poetic cinema is coming full circle by acknowledging itself.

Ok, but Minnie May is such a typical little sister. I love her so much. But why won’t Diana tell Anne about Jerry?

Gilbert is dressing up for Winifred. Meanwhile, Matthew is dressing up for his radish. Spirit animal material much?

And all of a sudden Anne is the typical Smitten Teenage Girl with all the associated behaviours: awkwardness, embarrassment, noticing weird details about the object of her affections (the chin comment, anyone?), and now “he loves me, he loves me not”. Come on, girl, you’re different. You’re better than that. But, of course, the ways of love are mysterious.

The baby horse is still the cutest thing in the world. Along with baby Delly, of course.

And now Anne even has her hair done in the very same style as all the other girls. At least that was different before. I mean, I love the look on her, she’s as beautiful as ever, but I’m getting the rather unpleasant idea that she’s losing her uniqueness and it’s all because of Gilbert; and based on what we saw of him in this episode so far, he’s not worth it.

On the other hand, the books had her become more... conventional, or at least conventional-presenting, by the time she turned 16, so that might count as source material accuracy.

The fortune teller cracks me up. Cigarette smoke in an orb? Really? Also, Anne totally said what I was thinking: “I think I learned more from the daisy”...

“Does my hair look more auburn?” That’s Book Anne right there.

The background music... you can tell by it that the Baynards just entered the scene... also, Derry. Derry! Oh my goodness gracious, DERRY!!!

I love the subtlety of their exchange about the book and the handkerchief. They’re doing this secret romance thing very well.

Ok, a second ago everything was so beautiful and hopeful, and then... first, Diana notices Gilbert before Anne does - and in quite an unpleasant position. And then Diana’s mother goes on about “extricating” themselves from the Baynards... poor Derry. Especially poor Diana. I just wish all this classist behaviour would go to... Hartford, Hereford and Hampshire (bonus points to all those of you who get the reference, and to me for referencing a work about classism in relation to classist behaviours).

Miss Stacy is the epitome of feminism in this scene - wearing trousers and giving all the men a run for their money at shooting. Go, Muriel!

As much as I dislike Rachel Lynde’s general behaviour, the relationship she has with her husband just has to be admired. Maybe she just wants Muriel to have what she has, and she’s failing to see that maybe not everybody needs or wants the same things.

And... Billy’s back. I remember saying back when I was watching 3x1 that if i never saw him again, it would still be too soon. I don’t mean to spread hate, but I’m sick and tired of his sexism and racism and homophobia and toxic masculinity. But well. To each their own.

I love that Prissy is back as well. She made the right decision about herself when we last saw her, and she doesn’t seem to have taken a single step back. In fact, she appears to have moved forward since we last saw her. Good on you, Prissy! But now Josie seems to be headed down a similar rather toxic road to the one that Prissy barely escaped - and with Prissy’s own brother, too. I hope it all works out well.

This is the moment I realise how unfortunate it is that Prissy and Josie aren’t very close. If they were Prissy might have warned her against some signs of toxic behaviour that she herself didn’t recognise back then...

Of course, Billy. Of course the game is “rigged”. But not for Jerry, it seems. In your face, Andrews!

I. Am. Dying! I just want to shout “Derry!” from the rooftops.

The little dog matches her gloves, you guys! Also, every time Diana says “Merci, Jerry!”, I just melt into a big puddle of fangirl.

The county fair is treating my boy Jerry really well, I must say.

Can we talk about Diana’s boldness, though? She’s really living life to the fullest, if only in secret. I hope my daring girl is free to pursue her happiness one day. And that day better be soon.

This conversation must be so uncomfortable for Gilbert. And he’s putting himself through it for a girl that isn’t even meant for him. He knows it, no matter what he tells himself or everyone else.

I just pictured Matthew saying to Gilbert “What are your intentions towards my Anne?”, and now my heart is breaking at the thought that he might never get to say it.

I am totally with Anne on this one, but you have to admit that the fortune teller was right about one thing at least - “The universe works in mysterious ways.” As frustrating as this episode is Shirbert-wise, I stand by my ship and I hope they will both come to their senses soon enough. We wanted angst, didn’t we? We wanted pining and obstacles and a realistic development - well, there it is. Why are we frustrated about it? This stage is not final.

“That boy is not your fish.” No, but he is her lobster. Gosh, I’m full of references today.

“Classmate and family friend.” Oh please. I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I like Winifred better than Gilbert in this scene: “Do you spell it with or without an E?” I really wish Gilbert wasn’t in the picture right now because if it weren’t for his role in each of their lives, Anne and Winifred might just be friends.

This was awkward. Really awkward. Gilbert didn’t hesitate for a second when he introduced Anne as his classmate, but now he’s stumbling over what label he should put on his relationship with Winifred. If I were to put it for him, it would be “friend”, maybe even “mentor”, but who knows what he or Anne are thinking during that long pause.

The tension, the suspense... is this MasterChef? Last I checked it was not.

Ok, but Anne in this episode is so much like Book Anne, at least as far as I can remember. It’s been a while since I last read the books. Gilbert is as far removed from his book counterpart as can be, though, and I don’t like it.

Most unusual? What is that supposed to mean? Also, I agree with Anne about entering herself, but maybe not with the connotations of “unusual” she’s thinking about now. She’s all kinds of wonderfully extraordinary, I mean. I hope she never forgets that.

Oh, look, she came to that realisation. I love that; and Marilla is such a mood on the balloon. But seriously, I'm delighted to see Anne coming back to her old self.

Is that Gilbert dancing between Anne and Winifred? Poetic cinema.

Ruby and Moody? I ship it! They are both absolute cinnamon rolls and deserve each other so much!

“Pretty face”? Is that all she is to you? Whoa, things took a turn for the darker pretty quickly.

“I want your pretty face”... and I want you locked up. At the very least. He had no right to do that to her!

Ok, I know we’re in the middle of one of the darkest moments this series has shown us so far, but we need to talk about Ruby being oh so excited about Moody writing a song for her and the prospect of becoming Ruby Spurgeon. Wow, she moves fast! She deserves all the happiness in the world and I’m so happy she’s finally being noticed by someone... someone who is really right for her and will make her happy. #Rudy #Mooby #Spurgillis ?? Somebody please come up with a good ship name for them.

Now Anne is considering Charlie? “Sloane? Sounds like “moan”, “tone”... I guess Gilbert deserved that with today’s behaviour, though.

Miss Stacy asking Matthew to dance just to “drive Rachel mad”... I love it.

Could that be Diana and Jerry holding hands in plain sight in the dance? Could it be? Am I dreaming? Pinch me. Or better don’t. I never want this to end.

Good thing news travels fast so Anne could hear about Josie. Otherwise no one might have ever found out. Victims rarely ever tell and that’s a big mistake.

I so wished Anne would punch Billy in the face Hermione-style, though. The vibes she was giving off suggested she might do it, and yet she didn’t.

The next day at school, Anne is just... completely savage in the best way of saying it. “Need to catch a train to Charlottetown?” She has no time to waste worrying about Gilbert now, she has an important cause. I love it. Too bad nobody is listening to her, though. This is too much like reality. When the activist talks about the real issues and tries to find a solution, people just change the subject and talk about insignificant petty problems instead. And the worst part is that this isn’t just in that time and place - it happens today, it happens everywhere. People still haven’t learned not to cover their eyes when a real problem arises. This has to change.

To sum up today’s episode: the county fair pulls people back into their everyday work while also sparking the fire of youthful courtship among them; Gilbert is not Gilbert; Anne is Book Anne; Shirbert takes a giant step backwards; Jerry takes a cautious little step forward, Diana leaps into the unknown with open arms; Matthew’s radish and Anne’s person are most unusual in the best way possible; the Andrews family has some achievements and some issues; Miss Stacy is a feminist icon; Ruby and Moody are very much a thing; Anne is now an ignored activist.

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pitviperofdoom · 5 years

Text

Fundraiser Commission #2

Thank you for donating $20!

Prompt: “Shigaraki, Dabi, and Toga go to Disneyland (no ships please, unless you wanna include a bit of Dabihawks in which case I will love you forever)”

Sadly I couldn’t fit the Dabihawks in there, sorry! I ended up going AU with it, hope that’s okay!

---

Like most things that made Touya drag his feet and roll his eyes and desperately pretend not to care, it was Himiko’s idea.

She came prancing into the bar while Tenko was hard at work mopping up nose blood by Fuu’s table, because some drunk idiot thought it was a good idea to reach for her chest. “Ten-chan! Ten-chan, guess what!”

Instinct almost made him snap at her for using even a shortened form of his real name, but the only other people in the bar were Kuro and Touya, so he let it drop. “Himiko, I don’t care who you fell head over tits in love with today, I’m not helping,” he said without looking up.

She pouted, her face scrunched up in a way that made her nose even more button-like than usual. “You’re no fun, Ten-chan. Besides, it’s not even about a crush this time!”

“Stop the fuckin’ presses.” Satisfied that the floor was clean, Tenko plunked the mop back in the bucket. “What’s up?”

She bounced eagerly on the balls of her feet. “Want to go to Disneyland with me?”

For a moment he simply stared at her, blinking owlishly as he processed the question. “What.”

From the pocket of her sweater she produced two slips of paper and waved them about. “I got two all-day passes! Let’s go to Disneyland, Ten-chan!”

He squinted at her. “Where the fuck did you get two all-day passes to Disneyland.”

“I won a sweepstakes!”

Tenko stood there, still holding on to the mop handle, processing this slowly. “When did you enter—no.” He threw his hands upward. “You know what? I don’t wanna know. Fine, you won a sweepstakes. Let’s go with that. Disneyland? Great!” He caught his breath, already mentally calculating the fastest way to save up the price for a third ticket.

Blissfully unaware, Himiko tackled him with a hug around his middle and a squeal of delight.

---

Touya was doing inventory in the back when Tenko flung the door open. “Good news! We’re going to Disneyland.”

“Congratulations,” Touya answered, without looking up from his clipboard.

“You’re coming too,” Tenko informed him. “My treat! You don’t have to worry about your ticket, and I’ll buy you an obnoxiously over-priced lunch, courtesy of the mouse.”

Touya shot him a disbelieving look, and the pencil in his hand began to smolder. “Tenko, what the hell. Who else is coming?”

“Just you, me, and Himiko,” Tenko answered, and was cut off by Touya groaning loudly. “C’mon, it’s Disneyland! Haven’t you ever been to Disneyland before?”

“Oh sure, yeah, the old man used to take us every weekend. We got pictures of him posing with Goofy.”

“Great, then—wait, really?”

“No, you fucking idiot!” Touya snapped. “I wasn’t even allowed to watch movies until he decided training me was a waste of time!”

“Oh,” Tenko said softly, and for a moment Touya thought the conversation was over. “Ohoho.” Something about Tenko’s tone made him look up, and he found Tenko staring at him with wide eyes and a grin that showed just a few too many teeth.

“Tenko, what—”

“I get to show you Disneyland,” Tenko said gleefully.

“Yeah, no.” Touya turned back to the inventory. “Have fun with Himiko, bye.”

“Touya, come on,” Tenko gritted out, walking into the back room and closing the door behind him. “You have to come. You can’t make me go alone with her!”

“Why not?” Touya asked. “She likes you better than me.”

“Because I need you to help me rein her in so she doesn’t get me perma-banned from Disneyland!”

It was frustratingly hard not to laugh at that. “What do you need my help for?” he asked. “What makes you think I’ll be any better at keeping her from biting the park staff than you are?”

Tenko shot him an impressive stink-eye. “Oh, I’m sorry, which one of us was an older sibling again?”

“Oh, what, you think that means I’m genetically predisposed to wrangling infants? That’s weak, Tenko.” He turned away with what he hoped was finality. “Have fun without me.”

After a moment of silence, Tenko answered, “I mean, we will. I didn’t think you’d be so bent on missing the show.”

Damn him, that was a good point. “If you’re so excited to drag me to a corporate shitshow of obvious pandering to a target audience, then why do you want me to come on the one day you’re pretty much guaranteed to get kicked out?”

“Because everybody and their grandma will have a camera and internet access, and if we end up plastered all over the internet, there’s a chance somebody’ll look at it and say, ‘Hey, isn’t that Endeavor’s kid getting maced by Minnie Mouse?’”

Touya whipped around to scowl at him. Tenko offered a disarming smile.

“Bullshit,” Touya retorted. “The mascots don’t carry mace. Do they?”

“Nah. Disney’s kind of obsessed with their squeaky-clean image. Did you know that if you die in Disneyland, they won’t let the paramedics call it until you’re out of the park so they can pretend nobody has ever died in Disneyland?”

“How many people die in Disneyland?” Touya demanded.

Tenko blinked. “None, weren’t you listening?”

For a while, Touya stared at him. Tenko stared back. This was a losing battle, and he knew it. Tenko had the patience of a brick wall. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“No.”

Touya put down the clipboard with a thud. “God damn it. Why are we friends? I hate you.” He turned back to glower at him. “When are we going?”

---

Obviously Himiko pouted when she found out that Touya was coming along on their little impromptu day trip, which was why Tenko waited to tell her until they were about to leave. She liked his company enough to prefer it over anyone else’s, and that wouldn’t do. Exclusive one-on-one positive contact with Tenko and Tenko only did not a well-socialized human being make. Tenko wished he could have invited some more people, but Himiko had sprung this on him on incredibly short notice, so there was no time to bribe anyone else to do it. Besides, his pocket money was limited and a day pass to Disneyland was like, eight thousand yen.

So they were going with Touya, and if Himiko wanted to complain about it, then Disneyland had plenty of distractions available. Once they got through the line, of course.

Tenko and Touya passed through the security check without any problems, because they weren’t stupid. Himiko, naturally, set off the metal detector.

“God damn it,” Touya muttered under his breath. “Why did we bring her again?”

“They were her tickets,” Tenko hissed back. “Technically, we’re the ones who brought you along.”

“Oh, yeah. Why did you bring me again?”

“What’s left of my sanity,” Tenko said out of the corner of his mouth. On the other side of the security gate, Himiko offered a cherubic smile that showed off just a little too much gumline, as the long-suffering security guard pulled a small metal device out of her purse. It was a nail clip, with attachments: a file, a buffer, a cuticle nipper, a cuticle pusher—basically any metal tool required in a manicure. It was like a Swiss army knife without the knife.

With a sigh, the employee put the manicure set back in her bag and waved her through. Himiko joined them with a skip in her step, and together they made their way past the entrance and into the World Bazaar.

“Did you seriously need to bring that?” Tenko asked. “What, are you planning on setting up a nail salon in the Space Mountain line?”

“Nope!” Himiko chirped. “I just didn’t want them to look harder.” She kicked up one heel so she could reach it with her hand. From inside her sock she produced an actual Swiss army knife.

“Himiko, what the fuck—”

---

“I can’t believe you actually bought those,” Touya said, glaring as if Tenko had personally affronted him.

“Bought what?” Tenko said innocently, reaching up to touch his mouse ears. “These? I brought these from home.”

“You still bought them at some point!”

“I think they look cute, Ten-chan!” Himiko hung onto his arm, squeezing tight enough to measure his blood pressure with her bare hands. “Don’t listen to him, he’s no fun! They look super cute, especially with your hair!”

Tenko let himself preen a little, because at least someone had good taste.

“Are those rose gold?” Touya asked.

“Maybe.”

“And you seriously shelled out for that?” Touya pulled a face. “Last month you tore me a new asshole for wanting to buy hero merch.”

“Oh fuck you—hi.” Tenko paused to wave at the park employee who was leveling a cheerfully pointed customer service smile at him. “Touya, you wanted to buy the store’s entire stock of Endeavor merch just so you could burn it.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Touya said sullenly. Himiko pouted, because she usually tried to avoid agreeing with Touya on principle.

“Uh, one, pollution,” Tenko said, counting off on his fingers. “Two, your money management sucks and you need to get it together. And three, you’re still giving money to the guy you hate. If you really want to snub him, just shoplift it. Or bootleg it. And speaking of which, that’s exactly what I did.” He gestured vaguely upward.

“Those are bootleg Mickey Mouse ears?”

“Bought ‘em from an artist on Etsy,” Touya said proudly. “The mouse had just sent her a cease-and-desist, so I got a pretty sweet deal.”

“Ten-chan, can I wear them?” Himiko asked. “I’ve always wanted Disney ears!”

He tugged on one of her side-buns, making her squeak. “Don’t waste your money, you already got ‘em.”

---

“I’m in hell,” Touya said serenely, slipping further and further down in his seat. “This is hell, right? It has to be hell.”

“I’m getting more of a purgatorian wasteland vibe,” Tenko remarked. “Like, this isn’t quite on the level of, say, Chuck E. Cheese, in terms of children’s media hope-abandonment, but… I dunno. I can imagine this playing as I eternally wander in search of penance for my past sins, or something.”

“I’m just waiting for one of those furry bastards to step off the stage and straight-up eat a kid,” Touya said, earning a glare from a nearby grandmother. “Like that one, with the guitar and the pouty mouth. Imagine that guy just unhinging his jaw like a snake and swallowing a toddler in the front row.”

“Huh.” Tenko leaned on one hand, squashing his cheek to the side. “Yeah, I could see it.”

Two seats down, Himiko continued to bounce and sing along to the twanging country music, blissfully unaware of the dull-eyed mother of three popping an aspirin and glaring at her.

---

“Okay, so we’ve been through the World Bazaar, Westernland, Adventureland, Critter Country—”

“I wanna go on Splash Mountain again!” Himiko cheered, throwing her hands in the air excitedly. She nearly punched Touya in her enthusiasm, but he quickly sidled out of the way, pulling the map close so that she wouldn’t tear a hole in it by accident.

“We can do that later,” he informed her. “We’re in Fantasyland—hang on, why am I the map guy?”

“You’re the oldest,” Tenko said.

“This trip was your idea! I didn’t even want to come!”

“Really? Because that wasn’t what you said when we got off of Thunder Mountain—” Tenko spotted a nearby face character and hung an immediate left. “Oh hey, I just found our next stop.”

Touya lowered the map. “What? Where? If we want to fit everything in before the park closes, then we have to hurry up and get to—”

“Yeah-yeah-yeah whatever,” Tenko called over his shoulder. “This won’t take long, I just want a quick selfie with Alice.”

Touya caught up to him just so that Tenko would see his incredulous look. “Why?”

Tenko stared back. “Seriously? That’s my favorite Disney movie!”

“Since when?”

“Since I saw it! How do you not know this already?”

“I did!” Himiko piped up. “It’s my favorite, too! I love the Red Queen.”

“No, wait a minute.” Touya squinted at him. “You told me literally an hour ago that your favorite Disney princess was Aurora because, and I quote, ‘I, too, want to sleep for a hundred years and let some other asshole fight a rosebush while I enjoy my coma.’”

“Oh, yeah, I was just being a dick,” Tenko said. “Alice in Wonderland rules. No dead parents bullshit, just eighty minutes of plotless colorful mindfuck.” Before Touya could protest any further, Tenko ducked in to grab his selfie. To his credit, it did take less than a minute. Tenko wasn’t picky about selfies. Unfortunately, Himiko immediately wanted one of her own, which then became three, and then ten…

The Alice jumped, and for a split second she seemed to struggle to stay in character.

“Oops!” Himiko chirped. “Did I pinch you by accident? Sorry!” Before the Alice could reply, Himiko darted back to the boys.

“Okay, you both have your stupid selfies,” Touya said impatiently. “Now can we hurry up and get to—”

“There’s a gift shop!” Himiko shrieked. “I’m gonna go see the gift shop!” Before either of them could answer, she raced off through the crowd.

Touya groaned loudly before Tenko dragged him after her. “Yeah yeah, hurry up and let’s catch up before she stabs someone.”

It was easier said than done; the store was packed and the aisles were almost mazelike. “Is there a fake weapons section?” Touya asked. “We’ll probably find her there.”

“Nah, this is mostly clothes…” Tenko looked around. “Maybe… there! I see her!”

“Where?”

“By the costume dresses, come on!”

Sure enough, to their immense relief, they found her pouting over a rack of child-sized princess dresses, with minimal carnage left in her wake. “None of these will fit me,” she fretted.

“Duh,” Tenko said flatly. “Adults can’t cosplay in the parks or they’ll get confused with the face characters. Kids get a pass because nobody’s gonna mistake a four-year-old for a Disney employee.”

Himiko looked close to wailing as they gently herded her from the store. “But—but—”

“I’ll buy you one online when we get home, now come on before Touya throws a tantrum.”

Touya folded up the park map and slapped him with it.

---

“Guys! Guys! Ten-chan look! Look at that Cinderella! She’s so pretty!”

“Himiko, there’s a line!”

“You can’t just trample children, you’re gonna get us kicked out!”

“Me next! Me next! Ohhhh, I want a dress like that! Ten-chan, won’t I look pretty in that dress?”

“HIMIKO!”

---

“Personally,” Touya remarked as they stood outside the park gates near closing time. “I can’t believe we didn’t get kicked out.”

“We had some close calls,” Tenko said. “I thought we were done for back at the Cinderella castle for sure. Also five minutes ago. I can’t believe we actually got out of that.”

“You guys worry too much!” Himiko said blithely from behind a bush. “I’m very charming.”

Touya scowled. “Himiko, you literally had to turn into a different person and point security in the wrong direction.”

“And they believed me, because I’m charming!” Himiko stepped back out onto the sidewalk, once more clothed and wearing her own face. “Thanks for the clothes, Ten-chan.”

“I figured you were gonna need them at some point.” Tenko rubbed his eyes wearily. “Let’s just go home so I can take an aspirin and sleep.”

“And find a Cinderella dress for me online,” Himiko added.

Tenko’s headache kicked up a notch. “Damn it, I was hoping you forgot.”

“Nope! I remember everything you’ve ever told me.”

---

“Hey Ten-chan. Ten-chan.”

“Yeah, Himiko.”

“I just wanted you to know I was kidding about the princess dress. I don’t even need it!”

“Mm-hm.”

“Wanna know why?”

“Yeah sure.”

“You’re not even looking! You have to look.”

Distracted, Tenko turned to look at her, and promptly fell out of his chair when he found himself staring at the Cinderella face character from the park, smiling Himiko’s smile.

“Is it too much?” The disguise sloughed off of her, revealing the Alice face character instead. “How about this, Ten-chan? You said Alice was your favorite, right?”

“Himiko, what the fuck.”

#my hero academia #shimura tenko #todoroki touya #dabi #toga himiko #commission #fanfiction #tales from the pit #dad night au

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mrs-maximoff-barnes-smith · 5 years

Text

Peter Tingle part 2

Author’s Note: i finally did it! after weeks of writer’s block and quite a bit of caffeine the second part is here. coincidentally it is Spider-Man Day hehe so that’s cool. honestly this is just a little over a thousand words of soft content. i hope you enjoy! part 1 here

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: i think there might be one swear word?

***

It was nearly noon when (Y/n) woke up. Normally she wouldn’t sleep in but her emotions had kept her up most of the night. Thoughts kept running through her head about how stupid she had been. A note, seriously? She was filled with worry. He probably thinks I’m crazy or whatever now. Damn it! (Y/n) groaned and turned over in her bed. She looked at the clock on her nightstand and dragged herself out of the comfy shelter of blankets.

With a stretch and a yawn (Y/n) made her way to the bathroom connected to her room. She looked at her face in the mirror, stuck her tongue out, then decided to brush her teeth. While she was brushing her teeth (Y/n) reached out and grabbed her phone off the counter to check it. She scrolled through the little list of notifications on her lockscreen and paused mid-brush to reread her earliest text: We need to talk. Those four words made (Y/n)’s heart stop. She couldn’t tell if it was good or bad, it just sounded so urgent and demanding.

After finishing brushing her teeth, banging her head on the wall a few times, then pacing around her room for about five minutes (Y/n) decided to respond. She chose to be nonchalant with her words.

What’s up?

(Y/n) began to wonder when he would even see it. What if he’s asleep right now? You can’t just wake him up like that! (Y/n) quickly googled the time zone difference between the East Coast and Italy. Thankfully it was about six hours which meant Peter would likely see it whenever he and his classmates finished dinner. (Y/n) attempted to take her mind off of his impending reply by making some lunch. There was leftover pizza in the fridge calling her name so she popped it in the microwave for a moment, then planted herself onto the couch in front of the TV and pulled up Netflix. Every few minutes or so (Y/n) would check to see any new notifications from a specific spidey-being. Nothing new appeared on her screen except for a request to take out the trash and wash the dishes.

To pass the time, (Y/n) actually did the chores asked of her right away. She looked at the clock on the stove and saw it was a quarter to two. Maybe he’s having a late dinner? Or maybe he decided he never wants to talk to your weird ass again. She was getting anxious and she hated it. A brief ping came from her phone a minute later and she rushed to grab it.

Are you busy right now?

Nope, everything okay..?

Could I maybe call you?

(Y/n) chewed on her lip, hesitating. Why did such a simple question make her so nervous? Peter and (Y/n) had called each other multiple times before, why was this different? Because this time he knows you like him, idiot. A bubble with three dots appeared on (Y/n)’s screen telling her he was typing something new.

Minnie?

That six letter name made (Y/n) crack a smile. It had been a few years since he used the nickname on her, she was honestly a little surprised he remembered. Peter had only used it in the past when he got anxious and tried to lighten the mood. Memories of spending each Halloween dressed up as Mickey and Minnie Mouse all through elementary and middle school flooded (Y/n)’s mind.

Yes Mickey? Lol

Way to make a guy get nervous in less than a minute

Oops?

Peter sent back an emoji with squinty eyes and a frown but (Y/n) knew he was grinning on the other end.

To answer your question, yes you can call me, dork

(Y/n)’s phone instantaneously lit up with a picture of Peter cross-eyed, letting her know he wanted to FaceTime. She swiped right with little green button and met his face, this time without any eyes crossed, and she smiled. “So, miss me already?” Peter laughed and nodded, “Well yeah, there’s that.” (Y/n) grinned and scrunched up her nose. Peter’s laughter died down and he scratched the back of his head. (Y/n) crossed her arms across herself and started fiddling with the sleeve of her shirt. “So… you said we needed to talk?” Peter’s eyes met hers then shifted to the ground and back to (Y/n)’s face. “Uh yeah, yes, right. We need to talk.” (Y/n) started playing with the small chain necklace she was wearing. “About?”

Peter’s face made an expression as if to say, seriously? “Okay sorry, stupid question.” (Y/n) gave him a tight-lipped smile and waited for him to continue. Peter visibly exhaled and closed his eyes only to open them again a moment later. (Y/n) was getting anxious, why isn’t he saying anything? It was his idea to talk. (Y/n) started to think she might have to be the one to break the ice. “So you found my note?” Peter’s head shot up. “I-I mean, I’m assuming that’s why you wanted to call me, right?” He nodded slowly while chewing on his lip. (Y/n) cleared her throat and decided to continue, “Right, well… I might as well just say it, I like you, a lot. I have for a long time, I just never said anything, obviously…” It was weird to say out loud, but it didn’t feel wrong. (Y/n) sighed and began picking at the nail polish on her fingers, waiting for Peter to say something, anything.

“Why?” (Y/n)’s eyes met Peter’s in an instant. “Why did you wait so long to tell me? Why’d you wait till I was in a completely different country?” (Y/n) almost thought he was mad at her, but the tiny smile growing on his face told her otherwise. She shifted on the couch trying to think of how to word her reasoning: I didn’t want to lose you as a friend, I was scared of how you’d react, I didn’t want to be a cliche. They were all lousy excuses when she thought about it.

“I was afraid.” That was the truth, plain and simple. (Y/n) was afraid of her heart being broken by the one person she truly trusted with it, her best friend. Peter understood the meaning behind her words and was quick to reassure her, “You didn’t need to be.” (Y/n) let out a breath she forgot she was holding. “In case you couldn’t tell, I’ve been crushing on you for forever.” Peter’s cheeks were tinged pink and he had the biggest grin on his face (Y/n) had ever seen.

(Y/n) smiled back with the same amount of joy. He liked her back, he actually liked her back. A sassy retort quickly slipped out of her mouth, “Oh yeah cause I have super perceptive powers to tell me who has feelings for me and who doesn’t.” They both laughed at what she said until a knock on the door was heard on Peter’s end. (Y/n) could hear Ned’s voice start going on and on about his new girlfriend Betty. What happened to being a bachelor for all the European girls? After Ned left, Peter faced his phone again and looked at you as if he were crying for help. (Y/n) just laughed in response. “I honestly don’t know how I’m gonna survive here, especially without you.” (Y/n) tilted her head in admiration and smirked. “One day at a time, that’s how.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Plus, you know I’m only one call away.” A moment passed between the two teenagers, both of them softly smiling at each other. “I miss you.” “I miss you too.” A notification appeared at the top of (Y/n)’s screen diverting her attention momentarily; it was a text from her mom asking her to be ready soon, apparently they were going out to eat.

“Something going on?” Peter was curious about the brief distraction. “Apparently my family is taking me out tonight.” Peter nodded and pursed his lips, “I s’pose that means you have to go then.” (Y/n) nodded with a sad smile, “I can text you when I get back if you��d like.” “I’d like that a lot. Hopefully I won’t be asleep by then, well, even if I was I’d set my ringer super loud to wake me.” Peter and (Y/n) chuckled at the idea. “By the way, before I go, what does this mean? For us.” (Y/n) didn’t want to assume anything, nothing good had ever come out of that for her before. She blushed when Peter answered, “It means when I get back, I’d like to take you out… on a date, if you’re up for it.” Pink was visible on both of their cheeks as (Y/n) eagerly nodded.

After a few more minutes of sweet conversation, (Y/n) hung up and went to her room filled with elation and joy. Her thoughts were consumed with Peter and her impatience for him to return already. This is gonna be a long two weeks.

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #spiderman far from home #marvel #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader

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diveronarpg · 4 years

Photo

Congratulations, JULIE! You’ve been accepted for the role of LUCIEN. Admin Minnie: Goosie, I thought I loved Lucien’s bio and that it was the finest work I’ve ever read. But I was wrong. Your application for the very character you dreamt up, from your magical brain (and yes, inspiration from Shakespeare himself) is a whole new level I have genuinely yet to see from you. You have raised your own bar with this, truly. Lucien is every bit as human as he is an enigma; a man who walks among gods and demons, yet grieves like a small boy. He’s lost his family twice over, and I genuinely cannot wait to see what he’ll do next in your hands. Admin Rosey would also like to add: Julie what the actual -- this para sample is so impassioned I’m. In total awe. Wow. Again WOW. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Julie

Age | 20

Preferred Pronouns | She/her

Activity Level | I just quit my job, so I’ll have more time to be online instead of working myself into the grave! I’ll still be working on our new house, however, so I’m hoping to churn out at least a reply a day if not more once I get threads kicked up.

Timezone | MST

Triggers | Infertility, miscarriage

How did you find the rp? | I’ve been here for a little over a year and you can’t get rid of me now, baby!

Current/Past RP Accounts | N/A

IN CHARACTER

Character | Lamprius / Lucien

What drew you to this character? | I think that Lucien sort of just clicks in my brain like a puzzle piece. As I was writing the app, I was like, oh no, I won’t be able to finish it in time, but that was obviously a fucking lie, because I word vomited about four-thousand words onto a google document for him, and it was the easiest time I’ve had writing in a while. I think his narrative and potential character arcs are so fascinating to me that there’s no way I could get him out of his head, even if I tried, and I want to see how far I can go with that.

Even moreso, I want to figure out what’s all the way underneath him, who he is at his core. At the end of the day, I think that Lucien is hiding from himself as much as he is from other people, and there’s something incredibly human about that. So many of us have difficulties looking at ourselves from different angles in the mirror, but Lucien looks every day from every angle and still struggles to reconcile with what he is, who he is, where he is. I think he could be a catalyst, if he’d only let himself be one, and writing that just plain sounds like fun.

There’s an additional mystery and mysticism to him that isn’t seen a lot in Verona save for within the neutrals. The Montagues and Capulets, try as they might, are not always able to hide their cards when they really, really need to do their best to not give themselves away. I’m thrilled at the very idea of playing someone who doesn’t always know what they’re doing, but everything about them is shrouded in so many facades and riddles that it literally doesn’t matter, so long as he looks like he does.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

I THINK THE END OF IT ALL MAY LOOK A LOT LIKE THE BEGINNING: I’d like to establish how Lucien is handling the grief that comes with the death of the Witches. Grief does weird, bad, ugly shit to people, and the Lucien coming back to Verona isn’t the same as the one who left it, even if he wasn’t gone for that long. To him, Hecate, Circe, and Medea were family. His own flesh and blood, after working with them for over a decade. He lost all of them in a matter of mere moments, and I’m interested in seeing if maybe he could be swayed to favor the Capulets over the Montagues just on the basis that it was Damiano who orchestrated their deaths. To all of Verona, the Witches were gods among men. They were unattainable, out of reach - but to Lucien, they were real people with lives and stories and faces and names he never got to learn the full extent of.

I NEED SOMEONE TO REMEMBER ME: Lamprius isn’t an alias I think many in Verona are familiar with, but maybe it’s time that changed. It’s implied that Lucien operated entirely behind the scenes for the Witches, so while they garnered a reputation for themselves, he might not have done anything for himself in that particular area. As the city shifts, in order to survive, Lucien needs to change with it - so I’d like to explore ways in which the name Lamprius means something to people, something larger than just Lucien ever could.

I’LL BITE THE HAND THAT FEEDS ME: I’m interested in exploring Lucien’s relationship with Ronan, because as far as I can tell, Lucien hates the guts of the man he’s literally married to. I don’t think it was always like that. At some point, Lucien looked at Ronan with eyes clouded over by love, and that was enough to trip him up. There are advantages to being married to a member of the mob - namely, being looked over as inconsequential. But I think Lucien’s made it clear he’s not a wallflower, even to the Montagues, and stirs up trouble when given the opportunity. What happened along the way to get them where they are now? What broke?

YOU WILL OPEN THE YAWNING GRAVE: I’d be super interested in following this thread of figuring out just what the fuck happened to the Witches’ bodies, and if they left anything behind for him beyond what they didn’t give him up front. This could be prompted through the help of another neutral character, or maybe a sympathetic Capulet or Montague (potential blackmail?) - someone with resources, who knows what the Montagues do with their dead. He dug them empty graves, but there are moments where he can swear he hears their voices, and knows that he hasn’t left them behind yet. Not fully.

JUST GIVE ME A GLIMPSE, I HAVE TO KNOW: Who has Lucien helped, over the years? Who among the mobs has come to him, unknowingly, and asked for a favor, a pardon, aid in erasing their debt with the Witches? He’s been the sole deliverer and courier of misfortune and warnings that no one could have seen coming save for the Witches, and Lucien has tied himself to Verona and its residents just as much as they did. I’d love to see characters wrapped up in past affairs interact with Lucien, if there’s any chance he might have saved their lives or hurt their chances of survival at the bequest of Hecate, Circe, or Medea. They weren’t immune to influence from the Capulets and Montagues, as much as they would have liked to be, and by default, neither was Lucien.

WHO’S A HERETIC, NOW?: I think, to some degree, there are a certain number of characters realizing that the life they are currently leading in Verona is not sustainable, and not quite as golden as they thought it would be. Lucien’s well aware of the fact he can’t do what the Witches did all on his own. He needs people to lean on, those who can aid him in moments of moral weakness and lead him away from this path of revenge that is very slowly coming to the surface. He needs a guiding hand to aid him in his hereticism, because I think if he tries to do this all by himself, he’ll literally go mad. This is, of course, at the discretion of the admin team and members, but I’d love to see where this route could go after a while.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Sure!

IN DEPTH

I. When he is seventeen he goes to the police and tells them his father has been shot dead -- unintentionally -- and demands justice. He can’t remember the feeling out of it but his body can recall that particular anxiety with relative ease. The way he’d stood, spine straight, jaw clenched, hands clenched into fists with nothing to aim at. He can remember shaking, and after getting home to a mother who had stress-cleaned the kitchen three times, nearly vomiting on the not-newly polished floor.

When he says it, the police look at him like he’d told them he had been the one to shoot his father, and confessed. He’s resolutely aughed out of the station. One cop -- a tall, statuesque woman with hard eyes and ashen hair, skin mottled with acne scars and what could be a broken nose or just a crooked one -- leads him out with a guiding hand on his shoulder. He is sweating. His hair is sticking to the back of his neck. It feels like the whole of him is trembling.

They walk a ways before she lifts her hand, and he comes to realize she has led him to a quieter back alley. A metal door creaks open and a man in a butcher’s apron carries out a trashcan of meat entrails and sets it aside. Lucien looks away, but not before he sees a cat leap down from its perch to feast on the newfound opportunity. It has a pink collar, sleek golden fur, and a tag that he can see even from here which says Helios. A strange name for an alleycat, even if it is well-loved.

It is then that he realizes this woman could kill him. He swallows, hard. She lets go of him and comes around to look him in the eye. “I want you to listen to me, very carefully.” Her eyes are all steel, brow set low. He nods, because it’s the only thing he can think to do.

“If you go after this dog it will bite you and it will not let go until you are dead. You might think you have the resources -- a dog-catcher, a shock collar, a knife, a gun, a leash. It won’t matter what you use, and it won’t matter how long you try. It will be pointless.” She keeps her words at a whisper, voice scratchy. It’s only then that he notices the long, horizontal, thin scar dragging across her throat, the peek of a blue-and-gold hints of a tattoo at her collar, script that reads CAPULET--

She doesn’t miss that he’s looking, and she grabs his face by her whole hand. “If you are smart, you will go home, to your sad little life, and you will sit and be miserable and die choking on your dinner instead of your blood. But you’ll be safe. Do you understand?” He nods, hesitant, and she shakes her head, tightens her grip. “Tell me you understand.”

“I understand.” With the way she’s holding him it sounds more like I undershtand. He doesn’t know if he’s ever been so humiliated, shame and embarrassment burning bright in his chest.

She releases him, and Lucien stumbles backwards. He hits brick, feels cool clay against his back, and the woman leaves without saying another word. He doesn’t know how long he stands there, waiting for her to return and bury her teeth in him. She does not.

The cat, licking its chops, its whiskers dripping with the red of discarded carcasses, looks up and stares. He stares back.

II. He’s never been to the Roman bathhouse before, but with the sun gliding behind the mountains and settling in for the night, with the way the orange and gold glints across the stone, it looks like something out of a painting. When he steps through the doorway the torches are lit, guiding him further down the long main hall. There are sitting rooms to the sides, but no visible directions beyond the light licking at the wood-etched walls.

At the end of the hall, it splits off: women’s, and men’s. A golden-furred cat sits at the entrance to the men’s door. He opens it, and it slips through -- he follows, and is met with a pool of glossy-looking water. The architecture is beautiful: pillars spiral up towards the ceiling, and the whole room is like one giant flame, warm and welcoming. The water is -- steaming. The pool occupies the entirety of the room: there are only stairs into the water on one side, and stairs out of it on the other.

The cat winds its way between his legs and mrows. He kneels and scratches at the corner of its ears, and it purrs before wandering off into the dark, collar jingling as it goes. Lucien looks back at the water, and empties his pockets. When he sets his wallet on the floor, a door that hadn’t been there before on the other side creaks open. On the other side stands a figure, beckoning with an open palm. Fear leaps into his throat.

“If you cannot get around, then the only way is through. This is your first lesson..”

He kicks his shoes off and steps in. The water, at first, reaches his ankles. It’s pleasantly warm, and even clothed, it’s immediately tempting to derobe and stay in forever. He wades further into the depths, and when it reaches his waist, the edges of his brain feel pleasantly foggy. What was he here for?

The figure on the other side, robed only in shadows, waits.

The water goes no deeper. He keeps moving, feeling slow and sluggish. The water, which was warm before, is suddenly boiling. He looks at his hands and they are no redder than they were when he stepped in. The length of the pool feels infinitesimal, like he’ll never reach the other side no matter how much he wants to. Waves lap at the edge of the pool and move closer, foaming at the edges like ocean waves. There is something tugging at him, telling him to go back in. To lay down and hold his breath.

What is this?

He keeps going, though. When he places his foot on the first step up, something icy grabs at his left wrist, tugging him away. The figure waits and watches. The hand holding onto him tightens, even as he pulls. “Let go!” Lucien’s voice echoes around the room, loud, a little too high-pitched to convey peace. His head is swimming. His thoughts are swimming. He’s swimming.

The thing, whatever it is, pulls him under the water. He struggles against it, and though it is shallow, he cannot seem to rise the mere half-foot up out. It feels as though a thousand pounds are weighing down on his chest, individual pieces of steel. He kicks his legs. Not like this. Not like this! Black swarms at the edge of his vision. It’s a last-ditch effort, but he tries to set up regardless --

And wakes up completely dry, coughing, in a dark room. There is a mahogany table in the center, and three people gathered around it. They seem caught up in quiet conversation. Something about what to have for dinner? He rolls over, tries to stand, and finds he is too weak. He pukes, instead, and what comes out looks less like bile and more like inky-black ichor. Panic surges through him. He turns his head, at a strange angle, and looks at them.

They are all staring at him. He opens his mouth to speak and finds that words will not come out. Instead, there is only a strange croaking noise which spills out of him in a hurry. The tallest of them -- the one standing in the center -- smiles. “Congratulations,” they say. Their voice is a low timbre in their chest. “You made it through.”

III. For a man who so vehemently claims to hate Battista Tahan, Lucien’s husband seems to talk about him a fair amount. He’s not unused to idle chatter that Ronan likes to fill space with, but this is a new level of dedication to blathering words.

Lucien is staring out from the kitchen window and eating blueberries right from the pack over the sink. (Rinsed, obviously.) The gardener did something strange with the arrangement of the chrysanthemums and he can’t decide if he likes them or not. The sound of a lawn mower roars from nearby, and the front doors is open as the maid sweeps out the hall at the entryway.

Ronan is digging through the fridge. Judging by the sound, it’s probably the top shelf, where all their medications go. It’s only eight in the morning: he hasn’t taken them yet, if Lucien had to guess, but the details of Ronan’s routine are up in the air these days. He’s been spending more time at the apartment, unable to focus on his work at home.

The berries are good. Maybe if they planted roses instead of chrysanthemums next year? No, roses are difficult to dig out. He wouldn’t want to create that sort of problem for the next owner. He hates the color of roses, too, so there’s that.

“-I can’t even believe he asked me. I could have killed him right there. I don’t think I’ve ever been so angry,” Ronan is saying.

“Mhm,” Lucien replies. Who decided blueberries needed to be called blueberries? What a boring name. He wonders what the name for blueberries are in Scandinavian.

“Are you even listening to me? I just said-- are those all the blueberries?” Lucien turns, looking at his husband. He’s leaning against the island countertop. It’s early enough in the morning that he’s only using a cane, not his brace. He needs a haircut, too, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in a week. Lucien frowns, pops another berry into his mouth and chews. Ronan watches the way his jaw works with obvious hunger.

Eugh. Disgusting. The berries turn sour in his mouth.

“Don’t you have a job to do? I remember you saying something about Camilla Grieco at dinner last night. And it’s end-of-month.”

“I don’t care,” Ronan replies. “Are those all the blueberries? I was going to eat those.”

Lucien nods. Ronan outstretches his hand, reaching. He’s not wearing his wedding ring this morning. He immediately feels like twisting his own on his finger, an unfortunate nervous tell. Lucien turns to face the window again. The gardener is watering the flowers with a beaten-looking can, a wheelbarrow sitting three feet away. She has a nice sunhat. He’ll ask where she got it, he thinks. He dumps the rest of the blueberries into the sink and flicks the disposal on.

For a blissful ten seconds, there is no talking. Just the churning of blades and working mechanisms. It’s wonderful. Lucien goes to exit the kitchen, gives Ronan a neutral look as he leaves. Ronan, to his credit, is not balking, because they’re used to each other by now, but he’s gripping the counter so tight the edge of his hands are turning white.

“Oops,” Lucien says. “I didn’t know.”

IV. His mother remarked often that as a child he did not cry. He was quiet, snuffled more than he did sob - even when he broke his arm, he didn’t wail, he sort of just… whined. Lucien did not learn that a lack of emotional vastness was something to be cherished in Verona until his father died, and he was able to hold his mother while she shattered and still managed to stand after.

It’s good, the Witches always said, but it’s only a start. Hecate was the best at expressing their displeasure with his wide-ranging array of reactions, even if by comparison Lucien’s face didn’t do so much as twitch. They made him stare at his own face for hours, smooth out any lines until there was nothing there. Just a blank mask. No name, no face, no personality, no humanity. Just a shell.

“That’s what you need to be,” Circe had said, “if you want to avenge your father. You cannot be Lucien when you pull the trigger, or you’ll miss.” And Lucien had believed them. He’d dedicated himself to being nothing but a body, wandering through crowds and negotiating deals and stepping back from the table when necessary. He doesn’t think he even smiled on his wedding day. He didn’t even cry when his mother- when she-

Nothing. Keep yourself drained. You are a vessel that holds nothing.

He’d thought it sounded melodramatic, all those years ago, just starting out. But it was true. Anger and sadness make your hands tremor, betray hatred. Happiness alludes to pride, which can cause the bottoms to fall out of deals before they’re ever solidified. In the end, nothing on the inside matters. It doesn’t matter what he feels about things, who he is buried all the way down in dirt. The land is barren. Nothing grows.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

The bodies of the Witches swing on stage and the crowd screams in terror. He hears a couple a few seats behind him chuckle. For a moment, he can’t process - it doesn’t make sense. Nothing clicks. And then he realizes that those are their bodies, their faces, their tongues lolling out of their mouths. That is Hecate’s bracelet. Medea’s ring. Circe’s necklace.

The world breaks out into violence but for Lucien there is no sound save for a murmur. A whisper at the back of his head. It suddenly makes sense. They’d burned all physical evidence of their deeds, workings, misdoings. They’d given everything they had to Lucien. Had they known they’d die tonight? Surely not. Hecate would have tried talking their way out. Circe wouldn’t have come at all. Medea would have accepted it, stoic. Resolute.

It’s bizarre. Lucien is still, but Montagues and Capulets bite viciously at each other’s throats and don’t let go. Men and women alike limp out of the theater, their pride wounded and hearts broken. All Lucien can think about, perhaps manically, as he stands in an empty room with only three corpses to accompany him -

Hecate had been so excited to wear those shoes.

Lucien cries when he cuts their bodies down and leaves them there. He cradles each of them, if only for a moment, because if anyone is watching, it will be his own undoing. Their bodies are still warm. He doesn’t know what the Montagues do with the dead they don’t care about, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll dig them up, if he has to.

“I’ll come back,” he promises. “I will.”

He doesn’t ever find their bodies, in the end. But he digs them graves, six feet deep, with his own two hands. It’s gruesome work. The headstones are the heaviest thing he’s ever had to carry, but they deserve recognition. In the end, Lucien doesn’t think they could have been faceless forever, even if they wanted to be. Once their stones are standing, overlooking the city the Witches gave everything to, he does the one thing he swore to them he would never do: he leaves.

INTERMISSION: Wait. Hold on. That would be too easy, wouldn’t it? He wouldn’t leave things in the air like that, would he? Where would he go? What would he do? That doesn’t -- it doesn’t make any sense. I need another drink. Do they have champagne in the lounge, you think? No, leave my coat there. No one will steal our seats, that way. Where’s my purse? Is the fifth act really the best place to put an intermission?

V. He returns in mid-February to a city in turmoil, ripping apart so slow it’s like watching molasses move across an angled countertop. Anywhere else, it would be over quickly, but in Verona, the black treacle grips to the granite like it has nothing left to live for. And it doesn’t.

It rains, on his drive back from the airport, and he likes watching the city lights glimmer off the asphalt. He doesn’t bother going home - he goes to the apartment instead. They still haven’t fixed the elevator, so he takes the stairs, bags in tow, and fiddles with the sticky lock on his door. When he enters, everything is covered in a thin sheen of dust. Untouched. Not a fingerprint to be found. It’s dead silent. It’s exactly what he wanted to come back to: proof that no one has done anything they shouldn’t have. Reassurance that things have truly stopped in Verona since the Witches were so mercilessly slaughtered.

The time’s come to get the wheel turning again. He digs through the cupboards to find something to make tea with, and then settles in. The first thing he does is call Loretta, to say hello after a long period of radio silence. It seems like the right thing to do. She picks up after the first ring, and a warmth in his chest blooms at the sound of her voice.

They discuss plans of action, movement, maps across the entire city. And then they talk about the Festival, and the turmoil between the Capulets and Montagues. This whole thing is ready to fall apart, but no one is willing to let it.

Worse, still: Verona isn’t ready to change. It never will be, in the end. Lucien knows that. It’s been set in its ways for too long. He’ll rend it apart, if he has to. He’ll break the bone if that means the limb will set itself right again.

Extras: A playlist, a pinterest board, an inspiration tag.

#accepted #accepted: lamprius

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teruthecreator · 5 years

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💘 for macknerva!!

anon, you are a genius. you’ve basically just sent the magical question that has now unlocked for the world: macknerva origin story (bc honestly i realized i just start posting abt it without rlly explaining it??? and someone people are loving it??? so thank yall for being my ultimate favs but u deserve this origin)

also this is several days late (thank u Depression) and also super long (thank u Dumb Brain) so i hope you can forgive me for both of these things

💘: who developed a crush on the other first?

it’s time we take it back....Back To The Start.

so since this is my magical world of My Own Personal Canon (since i stole griffin mcelroys rights), minerva ends up in Kepler in a completely unnamed and not talked abt manner (bc im too tired to explain my general alternate theory hgkgldlgbfhke but busically she just got on a ship to earth to avoid dying) and is staying with duck until further notice. she doesn’t mind laying low at duck’s apartment until they’re able to figure out Everything and get her set up w a place of her own (spoiler alert: that never happens, but duck won’t admit he just misses having a roommate so they let it slide).

after about a month (which feels like eons in minerva’s mind), she starts to get antsy. she’s already been introduced to the pine guard and amnesty lodge, by this point, so she’s constantly trying to hang out with someone so she isn’t stuck in duck’s apartment all hours of the day.

which is how minerva ends up in the cryptonomica the day kirby has to run into his job at the theatre for a good portion of the day. it’s pretty empty in the shop--i mean museum, so it’s not like ned minds (plus him and mack have already struck up an agreement, which i explained in a previous post abt ned and macks friendship) especially when minerva’s around to willingly pick up the slack.

but this second job has minerva curious:

minerva: I assumed your assistant, Kirby, had only the singular position at your museum? ned, from behind the counter: Oh, for a while he did, but then the theatre opened up and his services were needed elsewhere. And who am I, Ned “Theatrical” Chicane, to deny such a marvelous establishment of the skills and technical prowess Kirby possesses?” minerva: Oh? A theatre, you say?

here comes some random personal hc: on her homeworld, minerva was involved in her planet’s form of theatre (which i’ve always pictured to be very greek-esque, thus explaining her naturally booming voice) and absolutely adored it as a hobby. she, obviously, understands there will be a difference between Earthen theatre and the theatre she once performed; but there is no denying that that thought barely crossed her mind as she proceeded to pester ned about the theatre until he suggested she get a part-time job there.

(ned knows mack’s struggles with keeping hires at the theatre, which is why he is quick to suggest minerva get a job there. that, and ned knows enough abt mack at this point to pretty accurately guess her Type. so let’s just say ned was doing this for both macks gain, but also for his gain to be able to harass her abt her hot new employee that he totally inflicted on her on purpose)

ned probably brings it up later that night, or the next day. just really casually drops that he has someone interested in a position at the theatre:

mack: Holy fuck--yes, Ned! Tell them they’re hired!!! What can they do? ned: Hmmmmm, well she’s quite fit, and has no qualms with getting her hands dirty. mack: Oh, perfect! I need some more set builders! Thanks a whole lot, Ned. I knew you’d always have my back. ned, knowing full well what he’s just wrought: Oh, of course, dear Mackerel. Anything for a friend!

cue the next day: mack is just going about the theatre, business as usual, staying sort of close to the house doors so she can be Right There when ned comes in with the new hire. she’s faced away from the doors, checking something on her phone (probably her texts with ned, to see if he’s arrived yet) when she hears the doors open and shut. mack turns around to witness the Hottest Woman She Has Ever Seen In Her Goddamn Life.

she’s tall--holy shit is she tall--with beautiful dark skin painted with these almost glowing blue tattoos that travel all the way across powerful arms and a prominent collarbone. but the tattoos don’t stop there, of course they don’t. they go all the way up to this woman’s bald head, perfectly framing her beautiful face. high cheekbones, strong chin, a wonderful nose (mack doesn’t have much of a preference for noses but this one is perfect she just knows it), masterfully-carved eyebrows that look like they were chiseled out of stone, and those enchanting, bright, beautiful bright blue eyes.

mack’s brain basically short-circuits once minerva smiles at her (with those pearly white teeth and a grin so inviting it feels like her whole heart is melting), so she’s barely able to process the smug ned beside minerva.

@goforduck drew this scene for me a while back and imma show it to u all bc i love him, his art, and the hot takes he gives my special lil ship:

needless to say, mack Is Attracted, but i wouldn’t necessarily consider it a crush. meanwhile, minerva’s pov, she’s so damn excited for this job that she’s practically vibrating on the way in. and then, like romantic poetic would have it, all of that energy halts as time stands still and minerva locks eyes with....mack.

mack definitely looks a little disheveled, but it’s like every fly-away hair crowns her head like a halo as those gemstones-for-eyes lock w minerva. she’s never seen someone she has felt so immediately attracted to in her life. but, that being said, she still does not Have A Crush.

so after all the awkward blustering (AKA mack tripping over every eighth word as minerva turns on the Charm to keep that blush on mack’s freckled face) mack starts to get minerva accustomed to the work environment and the tasks she’d need to do. eventually, she hands minnie off to kirby bc shes got work to do, and the rest of the day goes by uneventfully.

now minerva works at the theatre, and she’s Delighted w it. the job is easy but entertaining, she’s making friends, her knowledge of the world is expanding, and she now has a target for some very playful flirting and obvious showing-off of her muscles. because, listen....she has Eyes. she Knows mack always blusters whenever she’s around. and she knows herself, too. mack is cute and minerva likes making her blush. but there hasn’t been that moment where things are taken seriously.

until about a month in, when minerva walks into something she maybe shouldn’t have but also definitely should have.

you see, mack has a very important ritual in the morning. she arrives at the theatre at the absolute ass crack of dawn so she can get her yoga/stretching/vocal warmups in (since she is still a performer at heart and this has been her routine since college) and then sit by herself on the stage just sorta soaking it all in before kirby comes in with her coffee (which she needs in order to get up from her seated position on the stage bc she is that much of a coffee addict). just about every employee on staff knows not to even bother coming in this early bc 1. this ritual is very Private and Sacred to mack and 2. ur not even gonna be able to speak to her unless ur kirby w her coffee.

“just about” encompasses every employee except for minerva, who decides to show up before kirby to bring mack her coffee (that she memorized after cornering kirby for the specifics one day)

so she comes in the back entrance and is sort of at a loss as to where mack may be bc she doesn’t know mack’s routine. and she’s just kinda wandering aimlessly through all the shops and little rooms until she reaches the wings, where she hears the gentle strumming of a guitar.

she approaches, with all the caution of a woman who has spent years mastering the art of stealth along w her combat studies, and comes upon the following scene:

mack is seated in the exact center of the stage, eyes shut peacefully as her body sways to the tempo of the song she’s strumming on the guitar she’s playing (which minerva recognizes as the guitar that some idiot pit member left here about two weeks ago). she’s singing (the song is Dream A Little Dream of Me), and her voice is so soft yet so resonate that minerva feels as if she could stand right next to her or be 1000 feet away and hear the exact same thing. and she sounds so good, so completely in the song she’s performing and in her contentedness that it eases some subconscious unease minerva was holding. in the time minerva’s known mack, it’s the most natural she’s ever heard or seen her, just playing for an invisible audience in the dim lights of a theatre not yet awakened.

minerva doesn’t realize she’s drifting closer to mack until she steps on an uneven plank, and the noise snaps mack out of her little world as she turns to the noise. needless to say, she’s a little surprised that minerva’s here this early, but then minerva wordlessly hands her her coffee and so mack could care less. she accepts the drink w a smile and then decides to go to her office to get started on some business emails.

it isn’t until mack has already left the stage, and minerva is still stuck in the same position she was when she handed mack her coffee--heart racing a million miles a minute, face hot, and stomach feeling as if an entire colony of butterflies suddenly took refuge there--that minerva realizes that she is Endlessly, Hopelessly Fucked In Love.

So yeah, TLDR; Minerva was first.

#ignorance cloud on #mack attack tag #macknerva #fellow keplerians #long post #so uh yeah consider this my coming back from my hiatus lmao!!#i decided its easier to be active and sad on here than to be inactive and sad irl #my posting will probably be a little erratic still but uhhhhh whatever #sorry this took so long anon some shit went down

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matrixaffiliate · 5 years

Text

A Twist of Fate

Co-written with @hufflepuffmarlenemckinnon

FFN and AO3

Chapter 15

Marlene knew she shouldn't be kissing him, but she couldn't bring herself to care as his hand gripped her waist and his tongue ran across her bottom lip. She wasn't sure if this was a part of their fate, but she desperately wanted it to be. Suddenly her mind was flooded with possibilities of them. A life of both her powers and happiness because she had Sirius. And he only reinforced these feelings with his remorse when he brought his lips to hers. She wasn't some plaything to him, Marlene was sure of that. But all of these thoughts seemed immensely unimportant as Sirius’ lips caressed her.

She was content to lay with him for eternity on that cot, but the cell lock rattled and Sirius bolted upright, bringing her with him, just before the guard entered.

“You've been summoned by His Majesty,” the guard looked fearfully at Marlene.

She bit back her unhappy and conflicted feelings on being interrupted and assumed the character Sirius had worked to build for her.

“We will oblige him, but he will not find what he seeks in this meeting.” She put added emphasis on the word ‘we’. She wanted it very clear that she and Sirius were a package deal. The guard seemed to catch the edge in her voice and nodded to Sirius.

The walk back up to Minos’ main throne room was long and gave Marlene far too much time to think about what had just happened.

She had been shameless in her flirting leading up to Sirius kissing her, mostly to try and figure out where his feelings had been. Marlene smirked to herself, he had made that relatively clear. But now that she knew he cared for her as she did for him, there were decisions she had to make.

Sirius obviously had feelings for her, but they had known each other a grand total of five days. To be fair, they had spent almost every waking moment of three of those days together, and she'd confided in him things she'd not even told her parents, but they hadn't spent all that much time together. There was no guarantee that if they pursued a relationship after this they wouldn't tire of each other a month into it. She barely knew him.

You know him better than you know Giannis. A part of her argued. Sure Giannis was a guarantee of stability, but she'd spent all of four hours with him. Suddenly Sirius seemed less of a wild card. He didn't fear her. He was already her equal, she would give up nothing to be with him. And she indulged in admitting that the demi-god could kiss. But she would still be Fate's daughter with him, in that her mother could still pull these stunts, like sending her to kill the Minotaur with another halfling. Giannis was an escape from all that. Giannis was her choosing to be human. Sirius was her choosing to be an instrument of Fate. Did she really want to be that? Considering where it had got her thus far?

Her internal struggle was cut short as the guard opened the door to Minos’ throne room and marched them in. If Minos had been hoping to only see her, he didn't let it show on his face. Instead, he turned to a servant.

“Chairs, for our guests,” he smiled at Marlene and she wished her foresight would kick in. As if wishing were all it took, suddenly she saw herself and Sirius bound in their chairs heading back to Athens.

“How dare you?!” She thundered. Well, Sirius did tell him she had a temper. She turned to the chairs being carried over and concentrated. If this didn't work she'd just berate Minos. If it did work, then hopefully he would take them seriously. It took a great deal of effort, but both chairs splintered under her gaze. Marlene smirked, she could get used to this level of control over her powers.

She turned back to Minos who gaped at her. “You are too weak to deceive Fate, Minos!”

Sirius sighed and began tossing bunches of grapes at random people in the throne room as if he was bestowing blessings himself. “I did try to warn you, Minnie.” He tutted. “You had to go and make her mad, didn't you? Now she'll be a right terror to you. What were you planning? No sense in lying my pet, she already knows.”

Minos sputtered, “I, I, I only wanted to speak with you!” He insisted.

“One more lie Minos,” Marlene stared him down, “one more, and you will spend this day a leper, so as to let your Kingdom know the true nature of your mind.”

Minos choose to set the issue aside and try a new tactic. “I do not wish you to die at the hands of the Minotaur. Please, for your safety, return to Olympus.”

“That's sweet of you, pet,” Sirius walked up to some poor noble and took the man's goblet from his hands before taking a long drink. He grimaced and turned to Minos. “You drink this? Maybe you are as crazy as Miss Fate says, this is awful! Maybe after we kill your toy I'll teach you how to care for grapes, pet, because this won't do.”

“It is written in the Book of Fate that we will enter the maze with the twelve mortals.” Marlene had tired of these games. If Zeus was this bad she had no idea how her mother put up with him. “You can either allow it willingly, or you can face the consequences that come from disobeying destiny. There is nothing to discuss!”

Sirius had sauntered over to Minos’ throne and as Marlene gave her ultimatum, he plopped down on Minos’ lap.

“See, I told you not to make her mad, you naughty boy you.” He popped a grape off the bunch he'd been idly snacking on and bumped it against Minos’ nose, making a high pitched boop sound that nearly caused Marlene to break from her role as the cold and unfeeling daughter of Fate. Then Sirius proceeded to toss the grape into Minos’ open mouth. “Aw, what a good pet. See it's not so hard to be reasonable. If you do as you're told you might even get a reward.” Sirius leered before placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek and standing. “Oh, and those cots were quite thoughtful, Minnie. I think I'll be far more comfortable tonight.”

Marlene bit her cheek to keep from laughing at the look of total and complete disbelief on Minos’ face as Sirius flailed back across the room to her side.

“Are we clear, Minos?” Marlene asked in a tired voice.

He nodded silently.

“Then, good day,” she turned on her heels and stalked out of the room towards their cell, the guard running to catch up to her and Sirius.

“Soooo,” Sirius sang as they walked, “the chairs were impressive.”

Marlene sighed, “He was going to bind us once we sat down and send us back to Athens.”

Sirius grunted, “That would have been an inconvenience. Is he going to keep playing these games?”

Marlene tried to focus and took his arm so she could close her eyes while they walked. Her foresight suddenly seemed much clearer but her heart also lept at the feeling of his skin under her hands again. “No, we descend into the maze at sunset.”

“Wow,” Sirius’ voice had a bit of a tight edge to it and it was as if she had somehow turned her sight to him as she could see his desperately good intentions concerning her, and the conflict he had over her. Marlene immediately opened her eyes. As much as she wanted to pursue that conversation along with perhaps continuing their activities from earlier, the noon high sun told her they only had a few hours to figure out how the two of them were going to lead the twelve tributes into and out of the maze, along with the little problem of killing the beast.

The guard placed them back in their cell, and Marlene had an idea for the latter.

“I want to try something. Up for some experiments?” She smiled at Sirius, finally dropping her inhumanly bleak facade.

“Am I going to explode like those chairs?” He chuckled.

She rolled her eyes, “Minos upset me and I wanted him to know it.”

“Where do you think I came up with the story of you having a temper?” He smirked at her.

“You're ridiculous,” she shook her head before plowing on. “I'm going to close my eyes and turn to the wall. I want you to move around the room and then stop. I'll see if I can see it before you do it.”

Sirius nodded as she shut her eyes and turned away from him. She concentrated on Sirius and suddenly she could see him and the path he chose. She smiled and turned to see Sirius halfway to his stopping point.

“It worked,” she said excitedly.

Sirius stepped closer to her and took her hand, “Of course it did.”

She wanted to kiss him, desperately. She wanted to run her hands through his hair again and hear him groan as she pulled her nails along his scalp. But she had enough of her mother in her to somehow deny herself.

“I should try it with someone else,” she said quietly staring up at him, “make sure that I could do it with the Minotaur too. If you know every move before he does it, he won't be able to touch you.”

Sirius smiled, “And perhaps I might lasso a bull-headed death-beast in the process.” He chuckled as he looked down at the vine around his neck. “Father did say it would be both useful and fabulous.”

Marlene felt her heart soar. They had a plan.

She spent the rest of the day practicing, reaching out to the other cells and to the floors above them and while she was never able to see more than a minute into their futures, she could control her sight and she could direct it, that was what mattered.

However, walking down with Sirius and the other tributes managed to dampen her enthusiasm just a bit. The guards locked them in the entrance and Marlene turned to give the twelve the instructions to stay out from underfoot and they'd be fine.

“But how will we make it back out if you and the Son of Dionysus are separated from us?” One of the girls cried.

Marlene was about to assure her that it wouldn't happen when she felt her cloak catch on the wall and begin unraveling. And as her mother had promised, her destiny revealed itself to her, and he was standing to her right. In her foresight, she saw him step away from the dead bull and kiss her, she saw him standing next to her in her mother's home, she saw him standing next to her in a million scenarios all at once, and she knew she was fated to be the Instrument of Fate, with this Son of Dionysus by her side.

“My cloak was made to unravel,” she smiled at the girl. “Its string will be your guide out. Sirius’s nose will be our map in.” Marlene turned to smile at him and he took his cue, shifting into his adorable dog.

Sirius barked once and then started down the maze, their group close behind him, Marlene's cloak unraveling with every step.

#blackinnon #blackinnon fanfiction #sirius x marlene #sirius black x marlene mckinnon #sirius black #marlene mckinnon #GreekMythologyAU #GreekAU #we're off to kill the Minotaur #still laughing at the antics of the Greek gods #laughingatZeus'expense

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kngminho · 5 years

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mermaid!au: two different worlds .｡*ﾟ11

“minho, this is princess yerim. i hope you two could get along. you remember her right? from when you were younger?” his mother spoke. minho nodded, looking over at the girl around his age and showing a tiny, barely-there smile.

“of course, mother.” he answered.

“she’s the one we’ve been telling you about.” telling me about? he thought, not recalling anything. “the one you agreed to marrying.”

“... what?” minho’s eyes widened as he looked at his parents. he tried his best not to look shocked or offensive to the other family, but he genuinely couldn’t hide his emotions. “when did i... hold on, when did i ever agree?”

“... minho, are you okay, honey?” his mother leaned towards him to speak quietly, feeling embarrassed when she saw the looks on the family’s faces. they looked confused and a bit betrayed.

“i... i mean... i don’t... i’m sorry, i never agreed to this.” he shook his head, looking at his parents who seemed just as lost as he was. his mother looked like she was about to have a mental breakdown with how shaky she had gotten. minho felt terrible immediately. “no, mom, seriously, when did i agree? i don’t remember.”

that’s when his father excuse them from the other family and dragged minho and his wife further away from them to have a private conversation. “what is the meaning of all this? you agreed just last week to marrying her!” he whisper yelled.

“when?? i’m so serious, i never said i’d marry anyone!” minho argued back, just as quiet.

“you don’t remember our conversation at dinner?? that we were making marriage plans with the choi family?” his mother asked, and minho shook his head again. “minho, you really told us to go with it.”

minho stood there, a confused look on his face as he tried to rack his brain for any memories of doing so. his conversations with his parents at dinner were usually forgotten because they didn’t matter to him. all they did was talk about their friends and their future plans regarding the kingdom. “are... are you sure i wasn’t just zoned out? i genuinely don’t think i ever agreed to this.”

he saw his mother turn around, throw a smile at the choi family, and then turn back around with a panicked expression. “then what did i throw a ball for?? it was all for this occasion!” she complained, sounding so frantic and panicked.

“it was- huh?! mom, what?!” he looked at her in shock yet again. for being the son of the king and queen, and someone who should be updated on everything, he really had no idea about anything that’s going on.

“that doesn’t matter now. will you marry her or not?” his dad questioned, sounding urgent.

“i... no? what- no!” minho shook his head, his thoughts immediately taking him to the glowing boy swimming near the palace. “i-i... i don’t want to! you know that i don’t want to marry someone i don’t love!” his voice accidentally got louder, and he could feel some eyes on him. minho took a look around him, catching mina’s eyes nearby, who obviously knew why he was refusing, giving him an apologetic look. he then caught yerim’s eyes, who looked crushed. minho shook his head. “i’m sorry, i never wanted this.” he said, and walked away as fast as he could, catching eyes of the guests as he made a quick beeline to the gates of the large hall.

“min! min, wait- what happened?” kitae, who had just walked out of the balcony, caught minho passing by and called on him. he then looked at mina who was trying to catch up right behind him, looking so clueless with what was happening. “what’s going on?” and he started to follow mina when he didn’t get a response.

“he said he didn’t want to marry princess yerim. keep up, kitae.” mina answered urgently as they both followed the distressed prince.

minho had gotten to the main entrance of the building, and turned around to face his two friends. “you two knew what this whole ball was for?” kitae and mina looked at each other, then back at him, nodding slowly with worried looks on their faces. “why didn’t you tell me? especially you, mina. you knew i already had someone! why didn’t you tell me?”

“i- minho, i thought you agreed to it... i truly didn’t know. i thought you were finally taking someone your parents arranged for you... i’m sorry.” mina spoke, truly sounding like she felt terrible for not telling him.

“wait, you’re already seeing someone?” kitae suddenly asked, not feeling caught up to anything at all. “why don’t you marry them then?”

minho stayed quiet for a moment, his eyes starting to water at the thought of ever being with jinwoo forever. “i would if i could.” he said under his breath and turned around to leave again. “please leave me alone, i don’t need anyone following me.” he said before anything could walk behind him, and made his way out of the palace.

he ran and ran until he was far enough. the palace was so big, there was no way anyone could find him so fast if they wanted to.

he ended up at the garden folly overlooking the sea waters. he sat on the small stairs, eyes letting out streams of tears that he couldn’t hold back anymore.

minho wasn’t mad at his parents. he couldn’t be. with the amount of times they tried to get him to marry someone and he refused, they knew that he would only marry for love. they probably thought he had a thing for yerim when he unknowingly agreed.

he was mad at the world. at the fates for making him fall in love with someone so incredible that he couldn’t have like he could in a normal relationship. someone he didn’t have to hide so much and worry for their safety. someone who wouldn’t be in danger if anyone knew of their identity.

minho only cried harder when kitae’s words repeated in his mind. why don’t you marry them then? minho wanted to scream. no one would ever understand how he would do anything just to do that. just to be with his favorite person forever. if only it was that easy.

“m-minnie...” minho’s head snapped up when he heard the voice, looking around, thinking someone found him. only to realize who the voice belonged to, and looked at the water to see jinwoo slowly swimming towards him, a small frown on his face. “minmin, why- why are you crying?” he sniffled, as if he was going to cry too just by seeing the sight of his loved one.

“what? i’m not... i’m not crying, baby. i’m fine.” minho tried to smile, attempting to wipe his tears away quickly. “see?”

“don’t lie...” the mermaid said softly, voice so sad as he reached his hand up to wipe his thumb against minho’s cheek. “it’s okay to cry, i just... i got sad when i saw you like this.”

“i- i’m sorry, little fishy. it’s just... a lot of feelings right now.” minho sniffled, looking down at his knees. he could feel jinwoo coming out of the water and sitting next to him, shining so much brighter now that it was dark and not the usual mid-day sun that they were used to meeting under. minho didn’t care if the other boy was drenched in water. he leaned against him, seeking comfort. he immediately relaxed once he felt jinwoo’s strong arms around him. he truly missed him so much every time he had to be away from him. and he really wasn’t liking the plan of seeing each other twice a week at most.

“what happened? you looked fine when i saw you at the ball... why are you suddenly so sad?” jinwoo asked, voice so quiet and so soothing. it made minho want to cry more. he explained to him what happened. everything, without leaving anything out. he couldn’t lie to jinwoo. and as he spoke, he watched as his expression turn from concern, to confusion, to sadness. “oh... i...” and for the first time, jinwoo started to cry.

he’s never cried at all before, let alone like this. he lived underwater, he couldn’t even feel the tears that streams down his face until now. he started to touch the droplets of salty water on his face, smudging them and then looking at his wet hands with confusion. he never thought he would truly feel what it was like to be extremely and utterly sad. “it’s... it’s okay. y-you-... you h-have to. it’s o-okay...” he started to say, bottom lip trembling.

minho started to shake his head, letting go of jinwoo’s hand that he was holding and turning to face him properly, now holding his soft cheeks in both of his hands. “i don’t want to. jinnie, i really really would rather not marry someone i don’t love.” he clarified, his own tears coming again now that he was watching jinwoo cry like that. “we were destined to be together. this... whatever it is that we have, i’d rather have this for the rest of my life.” it was his turn to wipe jinwoo’s cheeks for him this time, and he smiled softly, but it was extremely sad. “i’d rather leave this place and maybe live on a deserted island just so we could be together. all alone”

there was silence. they sat there, crying in silence, foreheads leaning against each other. minho kissed him softly and wrapped his arms around his waist, now leaning his head against his shoulder.

“i... i might know a way.” jinwoo spoke after a long silence. minho looked up at him questioningly. “you... you can be like me...”

“... what do you mean?”

“well... you believe in merpeople, maybe... m-maybe you can believe in magic too.”

#mermaid!au #prince!au #two different worlds .｡*ﾟ #–– Γ self para ჻

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 5 years

Text

[black eyes and busted lips]

Day 21: "I missed you.” #twdgdrabblechallenge

Note: This took so long to finish. I had two different ideas for this that I tried to combine but it wasn’t working so I had to rewrite it. Anyway, here’s some more Mitch.

AO3

---

Justin’s in his bed.

Which is bullshit because Justin has his own damn bed not even five steps away, a bed that he hasn’t even slept in for the past two weeks!

But no, he’s lying face first in Mitch’s pillow, spread out across Mitch’s mattress, and rolled up in Mitch’s blanket.

He’s never wanted to kick Justin’s ass as hard as he does now, and that’s saying a lot.

After the initial shock of the sight before him, Mitch makes sure to slam the door shut extra hard, the wooden frame vibrating with such force that it makes Justin jump, but not much. He keeps his face hidden in the pillow and groans.

“Hey, dipshit,” Mitch scowls. “What the hell are you doing?”

No response.

Mitch kicks the frame.

“That’s my bed.”

“Don’t see your name on it,” Justin snaps back without any real bite, words partially muffled by the pillow.

“My name-” Is he fucking serious?

Justin socks him in the face and then doesn’t talk to him for two whole fucking weeks- two weeks!- goes out of his way to completely avoid Mitch, going as far as to sleep in one of the empty rooms by himself, and now he’s back and curled up in his bed?

No, he doesn’t just get to do that after the shit he’s pulled.

Gripping the blanket, Mitch yanks it off.

Justin doesn’t move, but he lightly shivers, curling in on himself.

Fuck.

Rolling onto his back, Justin stares up at the top bunk, forcing himself to avoid Mitch’s hard stare rubbing his face with his hands. The spotting of healed over wounds still kiss his knuckles, red and angry.

Arms folded over his chest, Mitch kicks the frame again.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Mitch demands, forcing his voice deeper, an attempt at being intimidating.

Justin’s dark eyes dart towards him quick beneath the mess of curls, but the weariness weighs heavy in them and through the contours of his thin face.

“Hiding,” he answers quietly, unnaturally timid.

Fuck.

Mitch doesn’t even need any more of an answer.

After the whole thing with Minnie blew up in Justin’s face- just like Mitch said it would- the news spread around the school just as fast as Minnie could run her mouth.

It started out small and truthful: Justin asked Minnie to teach him how to dance, then he kissed her. Minnie got mad, pushed him away, and stormed out.

By the time it got to Mitch, the story was that Justin professed his undying love for Minnie with a terrible dance, shoved his entire tongue down her throat, and cried when Minnie kicked him in the nuts. Then, Mitch confronted him about it because, apparently, he’s in love with her now, too- Jesus fucking Christ- and their little fight in the courtyard was about Minnie’s honor and affection and nothing else.

And that’s just one of the stupid fucking versions.

A miserable two weeks on all levels, but he didn’t bother explaining himself to the others. He wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of taking his words out of context to play their little drama-filled game of telephone.

He knows why he wrote that shit all over Ericson, he knows why that fight broke out between them, why he busted Justin’s lip open and tackled him to the ground, he knows why he’s pissed off.

He does.

Justin’s an asshole. That’s why. That’s the reason.

Mitch’s got nothing to prove to anybody, no reason to explain himself.

At least the others knew to leave him alone.

Justin wasn’t so lucky.

Most of the girls are avoiding him, opting to say nasty things about him rather than have any interaction with him. The guys were another story, most of them not caring about the stupid nonsense buzzing around and still willing to talk to Justin.

Except for Mitch. He hasn’t talked to him since the fight.

Never a dull fucking moment at Ericson.

Their room is quiet, awkwardly so, damn uncomfortable- Mitch has to roll his shoulders, turn away from the depressing sight of Justin and move.

Justin’s gym bag rests on desk, dirty clothes pouring out from the opening along with a book- that’s where his bird book went the fucker- and something shiny. Snatching the book, Mitch inspects it for any sign of damage until a noticeable clang falls upon the wooden surface.

A watch?

A disgustingly expensive-looking watch, heavy with real silver and chip in the glass, one that Justin nor his family could ever afford in their lifetime.

“What’s this?”

The guilt is immediate.

“A watch, dumbass.”

“Uh-huh,” Mitch frowns. “Where’d you get it?”

“Found it.”

Justin’s good at a lot of things, theft being one of them, but he’s a shit liar and always has been. That paired with his sticky fingers is what got him sent here in the first place.

Mitch sighs, looking the watch over in hands in hopes of finding a name or something. A watch like this is usually engraved but not this one. Shit, he’d have to snoop around and see just where Justin “found” this later.

He pockets it, waiting for Justin to throw a fit, but he doesn’t. He only stares at Mitch with such a despondent stare that Mitch wants to deck him in his stupid face, then maybe they could have matching black eyes.

“How’s your face?” Justin asks suddenly as if reading his mind. Or maybe the bruising’s still that noticeable. “You can see, right?”

“Obviously.”

“I just mean it’s not swollen anymore, asshole,” Justin pulls himself up, slumping his shoulders, stare fixated on his hands. “I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.”

“Yes, you did.”

“...Yeah, but only because you’re a dick.”

“Oh, I’m a dick,” Mitch scoffs. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you!” Justin’s off the bed, stumbling over the blanket curled up on the ground. “You wrote that shit all over the place! Everyone saw it! ‘Justin fucked a walker,’ God, what’s wrong with you!”

“Yeah, well, you attacked me first!”

“Because I knew you did it! And now Minnie won’t talk to me and every- everybody hates me-”

“Oh, shut up, no one hates you!”

“God, you’re so-” Justin chokes, and Mitch finally realizes that he’s crying. Justin falls back onto the bed, face in his hands as he sobs.

Fuck, fuck, fuck-

That’s not-

He didn’t-

Justin wipes his nose on his sleeve, practically hyperventilating as he tries to breathe through his tears. Mitch is frozen, heart hammering too hard and brain malfunctioning with the question what am I supposed to do?

“I didn’t even kiss her,” Justin chokes out. “I tried to but she didn’t want to because she doesn’t like- she doesn’t like me and I got mad and kicked her out and then she told everyone and then you- you’re supposed to be my friend and you write shit like that for no reason because you think it’s funny-”

“I-”

“-and now no one wants to talk to me except fucking Louis and God, I hate him so, so, so much I-” Justin hiccups, eyes red and glossy as he motions towards Mitch “-I’m- I’m such-”

He’s off the bed again, and Mitch thinks he’s going to hit him, and he’s going to let him, but the impact isn’t what he expects. Instead of a fist colliding with his jaw, arms are wrapping around his waist and his chin tickles with the brush of soft curls.

The heat of it, the contact, it melts through his clothes, his flesh, and seeps down into his bones. His pulse vibrates in his cheeks, blood pumping so fast he might pass out.

“I fucking missed you, man,” Justin shakes his head, “even if you are an asshole and I hate you because I got no one else.”

What the fuck...?

What the fuck?

Mitch is hugging him back, he realizes, and it’s awkward and weird but it’s not terrible, not really. Except for the crying part, he could do without that.

When Justin pulls back, he’s cold despite the heat staining his cheeks and neck.

Justin slaps him.

“Ow, fuck!”

“That’s for being a prick,” Justin sniffles.

A fuck you is on the tip of his tongue, but Mitch bites it back, reaching out and yanking on a chunk of Justin’s hair.

“Hey!”

“That’s for the black eye.”

They glare at each other, but that hostility breaks when one of them snorts out a laugh. Mitch doesn’t know if it’s him or not, but they’re chuckling together with only Justin’s swollen eyes and Mitch’s flushed cheeks remaining from the fight.

“Sorry,” Justin wipes his eyes. “Didn’t mean to turn into such a girl.”

“Eh,” Mitch shrugs. “Not much different than you usually are.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You’re like a clingy girlfriend.”

“Fuck you, don’t be gay.”

A jolt shoots through his gut, making him cough and quickly and loudly retaliate, “Then don’t be such a girl, dickwad!”

“Jesus, okay,” Justin rolls his eyes, pushing him out of the way to begin filing his clothes back into their respective drawers.

A sense of relief washes over him.

Mitch wouldn’t ever tell him, not in a million goddamn year, that he had missed him, too.

Justin, this little shit who thought he was six feet tall and unbreakable but really, was fragile, who felt impulses to take what wasn’t his and then would lie horribly about it when caught, who has lived in this room with him since their first days in this hellhole, who was too scared to move out because he hated being alone, who wanted nothing more than Minnie to look at him like he hung the moon in the sky and gave it it’s beautiful glow.

Justin, who was an asshole but who was also his best friend, whether he liked it or not. Who helped him take care of Willy even though he could barely stand the kid, who hated Louis for little to no reason just because, who once called Ruby a fat, hillbilly troll then cried when she whacked him with a wooden spoon so hard that it left a welt on his arm.

Justin, who liked comic books and kept a gross porn collection under his bed, who thought Almond Joys were the best candy bar in the world, who couldn’t shoot a bow straight to save his life, who gave Mitch a dumb book on birds, who told Mitch through his tears that he missed him.

Justin, who Mitch had missed so damn much these past two weeks it nearly drove him to uncover that secret stash of booze Justin keeps under his bed and drink all of it, even if he loathes the taste of alcohol.

Justin...

“Can I have my watch back?”

“Your watch?”

“Finders keepers.”

“Well, in that case, I found it and it’s mine now,” Mitch smirks. “Finders keepers.”

“Asshole.”

Missed you, too, he thought.

#twdgdrabblechallenge #twdg mitch #twdg justin #twdg willy #twdg minerva #twdg louis

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surveyyyys · 6 years

Text

1.if someone wanted to really understand you, what would they read, watch, and listen to? Read -- I don't know if this is a contemporary definition of who I am, but I think The Sirens of Titan by Vonnegut would be a good example of what kind of content captivates me. Watch -- Maleficent is a really good movie because it matches my take on love and friendship pretty well. The Devil Wears Prada is also a good movie because it's basically everything I want for my own life. But they would have to stop just before Andy quits her job like I do LOL Listen to -- easily “Evelyn” by Kim Tillman and the Silent Films. I heard that song and I felt like it described me better than I could describe myself.

2.have you ever found a writer who thinks just like you? if so, who? I don't think so. I've read a lot of books and really admired how those other people thought. And I connected with the messages that the books sent. But I don't think I felt that my thought process measured up to theirs LOL.

3.three songs that you connect with right now. Adia Victoria's cover of Laissez Tomber Les Filles Hurricane by 76th Street Hospital Beds by Florence and the Machine

4.would you have sex with the last person you text messaged? LOL nah. She's not very trustworthy and she seems a little passively judgmental in bed. Plus I'm straight LOL

5.have you taken someones virginity? Yes!

6.how many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? None LOL

7.if you could, would you take back your last kiss? I wouldn't! I think it was necessary.

8.who would you like to see in concert? Probably Marina. I think that would be a really fun concert.

9.what was the last concert you saw? I went to Warped with a few other people 2 years ago.

10.would you ever want to swim with sharks? LOL hell no

11.do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months? I hope so! I want to be the kind of person who's always changing.

12.what was the last thing that made you laugh? Probably something silly my mom said.

13.a song you’d listen to during soft/slow/passionate sex? I don't really listen to music during sex... but probably Tadow by Masego.

14.have any pets? My sister has a cat! I like to consider her partially my cat.

15.do you want to have kids? How many? Not now obviously, but eventually. I don't think I would want more than 2.

16.do you have piercings? How many? I only have 2 ear piercings.

17.do you miss anyone from your past? Of course I do. I think that's just part of being a person though.

18.what are you craving right now? Nothing really... maybe the energy to get me through this next semester?

19.have you ever broken someone’s heart? Probably. Not like seriously broken their heart, but done a little damage to it.

20.have you ever been cheated on? Yes.

21.have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? I mean, his actions often made himself cry. But I was the one who was affected by his actions, yes.

22.do you believe in true love? I believe that true love is unconditional love, and that it only exists when it comes to family. Blood is always thicker than water.

23.favourite weather? The first few weeks of fall when it's still warm out, and the leaves are still changing color. After that it becomes a gross playground for seasonal depression.

24.do you like the snow? LOL nope never did

25.do you wanna get married? Someday. But I don't want it so much that I'm going to sit around waiting for it to happen, you know?

26.is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? Sure, depends on who it is.

27.what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? LOL the weird tense we speak in.

28.go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! It is physically impossible to lick your elbow.

29.what’s your favorite pasta dish? I like a well done spinach ravioli.

30.what color do you really want to dye your hair? I don't really want to dye my hair that badly. But when I'm old and my hair gets white anyway, I'm gonna dye it pink. Nobody's gonna argue with an old lady with pink hair, you know what I mean?

31.what’s your favorite eye color? I think this is a very "White People" question since most other ethnicities have brown eyes by default.

32.talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. LOL I get a bag like that each year. I don't really buy expensive branded bags for this purpose since I know they're gonna end up in the armpit of New Brunswick, on Rutgers bathroom floors, and on nasty buses by the end of the year. I don't love them to pieces, but I'm glad I have them. This year's bag is a small white sling bag with a pink and green floral design on it. It carries everything I would need or want on a daily basis (ex. phone, wallet, extra phone charger, gum, whatever liquid lipstick I'm wearing that day, mini Swiss Army knife, earbuds, compact mirror, etc.). I take it everywhere with me.

33.are you a morning person? Not in the slightest.

34. what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? I've never broken in anywhere LOL

35.what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? I don't wear a particular pair of shoes with every outfit. I think the oldest pair of shoes I own are these tattered gray boots that I got in like middle school LOL. I rarely wear them.

36.what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. I never really invested in like cute or fun socks because they're always expensive and I think it's kind of a useless thing to invest in. But everyone always has these interesting fuzzy socks on and I'm like "hmm, maybe I should get a pair of those." But I never do. In terms of socks, I prefer function over fashion for some reason.

37.tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. Nothing really interesting happened after 3am. There are usually 3 different post-3-AM scenarios: either I'm talking to someone for so long that it's approximately 4 to 5am before we realize it, we were drinking and someone got too drunk and blacked out/threw up, we were drinking/doing drugs and we actually survived the night without blacking out/throwing up.

38.do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! LOL I just go to Starbucks man.

39.who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? I don't go stargazing with anyone. I just notice them by myself and it makes my day better. It's more of a personal thing for me.

40.what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? I was always really scared of bugs. I still am.

41.do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? Nah I don't buy either. I don't have a CD/record player.

42.think of a person. what song do you associate with them? I always used to associate the song "Belle of the Boulevard" with my older sister. I don't think it applies anymore though, since she's in a relationship now.

43.what are your favorite memes of the year so far I like the lil spiderman one. I also thought the "some of you never ____ and it shows" ones were fun until they reached mainstream meme sources (Buzzfeed, Instagram, etc.) and they became unfunny.

44.do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? I don't like poetry.

45.what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received? A Pottery Barn gift card when I was in middle school. For both instances.

46.what are some of your worst habits? I care too much about what other people think. I also grind my teeth.

47.describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. They're really short, probably one of the shortest people I've ever met. They're an INTJ through and through, and usually pride themselves on telling it like it is. Sometimes though, they "tell it like it is" during inappropriate situations which can be annoying. They really want to be a writer, but they're working in Marketing now for the money. They're a good student, and are motivated to succeed, which is a breath of fresh air in an environment where nobody seems to care about where they're going or how to improve. Behind their IDGAF attitude, though, they give many fucks. They tell me that they care deeply for their friends, and most of the time I actually believe them (which is saying a lot for me, since I never believe that anyone cares about anyone). They have a lot of insecurities and they can try to cover up those insecurities with male validation.

48.tell us about your pets! My sister has a cat named Minnie. She's a brown cat and she's getting to be on the heavy side LOL. She screams between 3pm and 6pm because that's when she's hungry. She also likes sitting outside closed doors and screaming. She really likes boys and she'll be super sweet to them. She's pretty indifferent to girls though.

49.is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? Actually, no. At most, I should probably be working on my case study or getting my shit together before school starts. But these are the last two days of my winter break. So it's okay if I relax a little bit.

50.are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? I don't really care about minions LOL.

51.what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? My coworkers threw me a little birthday party and put up streamers and got me cupcakes this past summer. It really brightened my day, since no one had done that for me in years.

52.describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. I don't really gaze into my friend's eyes like that.

53.what’s some of your favorite album art? War Eternal by Arch Enemy, Broken Machine by Nothing But Thieves, How to be a Human Being by Glass Animals, Villains by Queens of the Stone Age, Heritage by Opeth, and probably a few others.

54.are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? I want to get a tattoo on my upper back next summer. It's going to be a mountain range with a few birds flying over it, and 2 lines written in this language I made up underneath it.

55.do you like concept albums? which ones? I like the idea of them! I don't think I listen very much to any concept albums though.

56.what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? Memento and Forrest Gump.

57.list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. Oh No! by Marina, Hurricane by 76th Street, The Wolf by Phildel, Shake it Out by Florence and the Machine, Orbiting by the Weepies, Pretty Little Head by Eliza Rickman, Elastic Heart by Sia, Big Girls Cry by Sia, Cellophane by Sara Jackson Holman.

58.if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? Definitely to go 5 years into the future.

59.what do you do when you’re sad? I usually just listen to music and wallow.

60.what are some things you do when you can’t sleep? I play this one specific podcast called Dan Carlin's Hardcore History. I'm usually asleep within the next 30 minutes of playing it.

61.what was the best (non-romantic) night you’ve had? There are a few contenders. There's the night I did acid for the first time. There's any of the nights we had those parties in our suite last year where no one threw up/cried. There's that night I legitimately fell off the bed laughing, and we drove to another campus in the middle of the night in someone's pickup truck. Any one of the nights during my winter community service break trip where we cooked/got sentimental/bonded. I'm sure there are others.

62.who is the last person you told a secret to? The same friend I described in this survey.

63.what’s the best piece of advice you ever received? Many people have told me this. But it's to stop trying to jump to the finish line and enjoy the present.

64.what’s your favorite food? I don't have one specific all-across favorite food. But I really like breakfast food out of all others!

65.what’s your secret dream? I want to go on a several-day-long trip with a bunch of close friends. I don't want to tag along with my sister... I want it to be my own trip with my own friends.

66.three songs you were recently obsessed with. Despicable - Grandson OBLIVIUS - The Strokes Broken Machine - Nothing But Thieves

67.three songs that remind you of the person who sends this one --

68. three favourite old songs A Well Respected Man - The Kinks Shout At The Devil - Motley Crue Rust In Peace... Polaris - Megadeth

69.three last songs you listened to Overdose by Grandson and two other random songs I didn't pay much attention to.

70.worst possible time to get horny: During an exam (it's happened before).

71.have you ever had a friends with benefits? Yup a couple times. Didn't last very long though.

72.do you believe in soulmates? Consciously I don't, but subconsciously I do.

73.Is there anyone you would die for? My sister and my mom.

74.whowas the last person you cried in front of? My sister's cat LOL

75.do you give out second chances too easily? I actually don't give out enough second chances I think.

76.is it easier to forgive or forget? Forget.

77.is this year the best year of your life? Nope, that was definitely 2016.

78.do you have trust issues? Very much so.

79.who/what was your last dream about? I don't actually remember... I knew it was set in a university environment though.

80.would you go back in time if you were given the chance? Only if I could go back to my first year of college and relive it.

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