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obriengf · 6 months

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Jubilee || Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: You find moments of clarity throughout your boyfriend's birthday. Words: 1.9k Warnings: totally added tay swift references - not really a warning (: Notes: despite the photo used in the banner, the reader is non-gender specific, non-race specific, etc.

April 8th, 1995 - Happy Birthday Stiles Stilinski ・❥・

You weren't sure what it was, exactly - maybe it was simply just how his eyes would widen with excitement, a childhood gleam that twinkled so exuberantly as he smiled. Or, it could be how his body jumped with so much positive energy, the balls of his feet built with springs as he bounded around with pure enthusiasm. Perhaps, it was really the way in which he couldn't stop talking, in absolute Stiles fashion, his mind and mouth running with stories and ideas and honest happiness. Selfishly, you would like to say that it was when he encased his body around yours and provided loving kisses with every 'thank you' during his never-ending expression of gratitude. Whatever it was, it made this time of year your favourite of them all. Nothing could beat celebrating your boyfriend's birthday.

His twenty-ninth year started with a tender peck - lips pressed to his cheek as they covered a freckled canvas, his skin warm as it remained settled under the morning sun that filtered through the blinds. It twitched from such a delicate sentiment and was followed by lashes dancing as the boy began to wake. He was so beautiful, and it prompted your heart to clutch in absolute awe.

His arm was heavy as it remained slung over your waist, despite pulling you closer to his chest in oblivious movements from his still-slumbered state. He hummed lightly against the shell of your ear, a sound of acknowledgement, wordless contentedness to the complacency you helped him feel. It made you kiss him again on the upturn of his nose and he groaned as it scrunched.

"Hi." You whispered so quietly, his caramel toned eyes fluttering once again as they tried to adjust to the morning light. Stiles smiled at you, completely loving with just a simple glance. A hum pushed past your lips, "Good Morning, handsome."

"It is now." He replied, so smooth, so swift. The truth embedded in such little words and encapsulated with sleepy raspiness.

Noses brushed as you giggled under your breath, your thumb rubbing gently under his eye, "And Happy Birthday."

He leaned into your touch as if it were moulded to fit his face, love exuberating from his features with ease, "Thank you, baby."

It was amusing to watch as Stiles shovelled his face with pancakes - the breakfast dish easily branded as his favourite, and seen quite evidently as he moaned loudly in satisfaction. The plate was stacked high and you knew that the sugar rush could potentially be catastrophic, but it was his day, and he deserved everything he desired.

An incredulous look was etched deeply into the furrowed brows and confused lift of Noah Stilinski's lips as he watched his son across the table. The coffee mug in his hand was teetering on the edge of lukewarm by now, but he couldn't tear his focus away. You'd think that after twenty-nine years, the man would be somewhat immune to the quirkiness of his son. Noah's eyes glanced briefly around your small kitchen space - an area where you and Stiles spent much of your time since you moved in together. He had always admired the varied elements representing you both and how easy it was for your lives to merge. It was as if soulmates were united, and this is how your beings were destined to be intertwined.

"You spoil him." Noah's deep voice broke through the silent chuckle you expelled toward your boyfriend, eyes managing to break free as they looked to the man beside you. Appreciation filled the small smile he shone your way and you couldn't help but release an elated exhale, your head nodding in agreement.

"I know." Your reply was simple but was spoken with the utmost adoration for Stiles, observing as a childish spark embodied him with joyousness; a light that took a while to finally settle within his heart after years of trepidation and great wars. A sigh pushed past your lips, "But he deserves it, all of it, after everything he's been through."

And you would give him the world on a silver platter if you could, but you knew that all Stiles truly wanted was to be content. He craved silly grown-up routines and times when he could relax without the threat of worry. He wanted to relive mundane moments from his teenage years that were short-lived due to monsters that lurked in the shadows. He yearned for endearment and safety and just simply knowing that you would be there every morning and night, curled up in his arms, loving him unconditionally. Stiles never asked for a lot, so days like today were ones you strived to make special. Because he deserved special, every last speck of it.

Noah snickered to himself, pride filling his chest as he looked between yourself and Stiles. "He deserves you most, ya know." His words struck a chord - one with melodic tunes, strummed hard enough to get your heart beating fast as a red blush pinched at your nose and cheeks. You reached across and placed a hand over his, your eyes bright as you looked at the older Stilinski.

"Thank you." That was all you ever wanted.

Stiles could work a room, especially when the buzz was centered around him. He had bounced across your living room several times by now, excitement filling his veins as he couldn't stop talking to the friends and family who came to see him for his birthday. You were standing off to the side, half listening as Scott was making conversation about his week at the Clinic - your focus was mostly on Stiles, admiring the way he was utilising his over-energetic nature and definite possible sugar hype from his breakfast. He had never looked happier as words flowed from him, a bottle of beer clutched between the fingers of his right hand as his left arm hung jovially over Liam's shoulders in deep narration.

"You're not listening, are you?" Scott spoke up, amused as his arms crossed over his chest and he leaned back casually against the wall.

"Sorry, Scotty." You offered a smile, apologetic tones seeping through and your friend couldn't help but shake his head as he returned your smile amiably. You took a sip of your own drink, making sure to turn your body slightly, attempting to provide full attention even though your mind still wandered whenever you heard your boyfriend's laugh. "I was, I just got a little distracted --"

" -- It's all good." He intercepted your explanation, a look of knowing putting you at ease. He knew well the effect that you and Stiles had on each other, for the most part, and how you were both connected so seamlessly by an invisible string that without fail drew you back to one another. It only made sense that a part of your focus would always be on him. "But kudos on the party. You definitely decked the place out, and Stiles seems to definitely be enjoying himself."

You hummed, eyes picking up the array of decorations that you so carefully placed only a couple of hours ago. "You know more than anyone that I'd do anything to just see him happy. After all, today is Stiles Day and honestly..." You trailed off, features already beginning to scrunch up as joviality shaped your words, "I think I like it more than Christmas."

You laughed, and Scott joined you. He agreed wholeheartedly as his hand splayed over his chest, head nodding and lopsided smile growing by the second.

It wasn't too long after when the crowd gathered around your dining table with Stiles perching at the head as he sat tall. The lights were turned off and the room became swallowed by darkness - building anticipation, creating an atmosphere of smiles and eagerness for the theatrics to follow. It was the sound of hissing that made ears perk and eyes swiftly track the source as it entered from the kitchen. You had gentle hands as his cake remained in your hold; silhouettes sitting against the walls from shoots of sparking fire that sat atop his cake. His gaze grew large, and the normal caramel tone of his eyes shifted to a glowing golden hue from the reflecting sparklers.

You placed the cake in front of Stiles before planting a tender kiss against the apple of his grinning cheek, your nose nuzzling into his favourite spot under his ear, "Happy Birthday, my handsome man."

The crowd began to sing, mismatched harmonies growing louder in the small space of your apartment. It was hasty as Stiles' large hands gripped at your waist, your body falling toward his own before he sat you in his lap. Legs dangled over his knees and it made you giggle against the curve of his shoulder. Stiles pecked your template before replicating your nuzzle, his nose dragging against your hairline, "I love you."

You watched as the sparklers danced patterns across his affectionate expression, completely mesmerised by him and the fortune you felt, before you smiled up at him, "I love you too. Now blow out those candles!"

It wasn't much different from your usual Monday night; the television played some reruns of comedies from the 90's, every light in the room was turned off except the dingy floor lamp beside the couch, and the coffee table was graced by Chinese takeout containers and leftover plates of birthday cake. Stiles slumped back against the soft cushions with his feet perched upon the table, socks cladding his feet as they moved in tune with the opening credits of an old sitcom. He was in complete comfort, only made better by your frame as it was situated under his arm with your head pressed to his chest and hands curled in the material of his t-shirt. His touch was absentmindedly dragging up and down your side with dancing fingers, the sentiment just barely felt as the movements remained delicate and featherlike.

"Today was amazing." He said so nonchalantly, voice hardly competing with the television as the sound remained low.

You burrowed yourself closer to him, tiredness beginning to takeover, "I'm glad."

Stiles grinned lazily, his lips puckered before pressing kisses down the expanse of your cheek as his nose trailed after them, "But this?Right now... full of cake and chow mein, us cuddling and watching Friends reruns... this is my favourite part. Without a doubt."

"But we do this practically every night." You mused, voice laced with humor and confusion before gently pulling away from him. Your brow was raised, but the puzzled expression across your features was captured with a smile.

"Yeah, we do, but... just knowing how much effort you put into making today the best birthday, it just makes it all mean so much more."

Your heart pattered, a rush of endearment and affection. It was loud and fast in your chest, but one would never have guessed from the quiet squeak of your voice that followed, "I only ever want the best for you."

"And all I ever want is you. Period."

The light from the television casted a blue glow as you leant forward, your arms encasing themselves around Stiles' neck as thighs straddled his own. The programme was long forgotten, and his face settled against your shoulder. You could feel him breathe you in as his own arms wrapped around to your back, his large splayed hands pushing your body further against him.

You kissed the crown of his head, fingers gentle as they tangled themselves in the loose locks of his hair, "Happy Birthday, Stiles."

#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski x you #teen wolf x you

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misty-caligula · 1 year

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We’re all sad to see Nat go, but I think it’s important to recognise, she’s gone because of decisions that she made, over and over.

S1E10 she made the choice to shoot herself. It wasn’t a GREAT choice, but it was one that she made, which Lottie negated against her will. In eerily similar fashion as Misty with the cocaine.

S2E1 Lottie talked to her about her bees, about how when a new queen was born she’d sting the others to death for the good of the hive.

For most of the rest of the season, Nat began taking the lessons of the cult to heart, despite her initial reservations. Some people wondered how sincere she was, but I genuinely think that she began to really work on herself, really believe in Lottie’s wisdom.

Then the poison came out. Immediately, Nat’s demeanour changed. I was wondering what that was about when Lott was trying to convince them in s2e8. She told Nat that she was in so much pain, and Nat didn’t even fight back at all. Just gave her this look...

I think that right here, at this moment, she recognised Lott for what she was. A danger to them all. She decided that she wasn’t capable of changing, of being helped. Just like she’d said to Misty, “We’re ALL like this, aren’t we?” I think that at this moment, Nat decided that once again, Lott wasn’t fit to be queen, that she’d have to take charge, like she did before, and that she should take the example of the bees.

I think she’s also ... angry. Angry that Lott can’t recognise the SOURCE of that pain. She recognises the reality, that it exists, but she’s blind to how responsible she is for it. Consider:

As far as Natalie knows (because of what Misty said in the cabin) Lottie told them that eating Javi was what IT wanted them to do. And then immediately made her in charge of the team, dropping that burden of responsibility and guilt directly on her shoulders. She’s smiling in the moment, when everyone’s bowing. See how much she’s smiling when the reality of that weight sets in, when the unbearable guilt of being in charge crushes down on her. When that PURPOSE is lifted from her shoulders and all she has left is the pain of what she’s done, what she’s made others do in her name. And now, Lott has the AUDACITY to point at Nat’s pain in public, without ascribing blame, as though it were simply ... a natural state of being.

In the beginning of S2E9 she says that Lott shouldn’t go back to the psych ward, but I believe that she never meant any kind of help should be offered. I believe that she had already decided to kill her. I think that she’d hoped that Lott would draw the Queen of Hearts, and it would’ve made it easy. She’d have submitted, I’m sure. Because when she drew the Ace, she looked SO crestfallen I’d actually assumed at first she got the Queen. Lottie wanted that queen so badly, wanted so much to help her friends. And then Nat would’ve made it quick, with the secret real blade she’d brought with her.

But it wasn’t to be. So Shauna HAS to be the centre of attention, as always, and everyone’s playing along, not realising that Lott’s brought her own real knife to the party. And when they’re chasing her, if Lott catches up she’s GOING to kill her, for reals. I don’t know what kind of 4 dimensional chess they think they’re playing, but they’ve RADICALLY underestimated the danger level here, and it’s only when Callie steps in that she calms it down a little (with a bullet wound of all things).

But still, Nat goes in for the kill.

And it’s not just because she thinks she’d be a better queen, it’s not JUST that she’s afraid. She’s ANGRY. Because, despite herself, despite all of her bluster and her cynicism, her worldliness, and all of it, SHE was the one who bought in to the cult. Shauna and Tai and Van and Misty are here, they’re playing around, they’re drinking and partying and kind of just taking a vacation. They’ll do the therapy for a bit of fun, but they’re not taking it very seriously.

Nat, in a very short time, has found a BELIEF. She’s gone from 2 seconds away from a bullet to actually having a meaning, a reason to get up in the morning. Sober. And nobody except Lott is taking that seriously. Is recognising that she’s making real growth here, that she’s really trying. They’re begging her to drink with them - HER, NATALIE, THE FUCKING ALCOHOLIC, and they’re peer pressuring her to drink.... and she’s saying no.

Because when Lisa said “Do you want to die?” and she said “Not today” she pushed away her drink. Because that’s what alcohol IS to her. It’s not a fun party, it’s not a joyful thing. It’s a curse, a burden, a poison that hurts less than the one she’s trying to drown out. And now she’s found a way to live without it.

And it’s all a lie.

These two women are doing VERY different things. Shauna’s preparing for a pantomime. Nat’s preparing for a murder. Shauna’s in the light, and she’s casting shadow with her dark thoughts. Nat’s bathed in darkness and the only light is the bright fire of her rage.

So she goes to Lisa, and she BEGS her to leave. I feel like there’s a bit of a comparison here with Shauna telling Javi to run from the doomcoming, like go, you’re not safe here. She’s trying so hard to make Lisa understand that she’s the real deal, that SHE got through to Nat, that she can be better than the cult. (And there’s a layer here too, because Lisa is so much just like teen!Nat, and she’s trying so hard to save herself from the cycle). And Lisa just can’t hear it. Just like teen!Nat couldn’t in her shoes. It’s all hopeless.

It’s meant to be a pantomime, but Nat says “Something’s HAPPENING tonight, and I NEED you to leave, while you still can.” What’s happening tonight? She’s going to kill Lisa’s god, and she’s NEVER going to forgive her.

She stops before she leaves and says “Thank you for trying to teach me about forgiveness. It’s a nice idea.“

But it’s not an idea she can get behind. She’s too far gone for that. She, like Coach, can’t let it go. She’s going to burn the motherfucker down. And in the lull that Callie leaves, she does EXACTLY that, she takes the lunge, and it would’ve worked ... if only Lisa had taken her advice.

And suddenly she’s her dad. Attacking Lisa’s mother figure, without context why. For raising her wrong. And Lisa comes to her defence. And Nat can’t explain. And it’s all too fast and too much and Misty doesn’t understand, doesn’t know her well enough, doesn’t have enough faith that Nat has the situation under control. And all she has is a split second to choose, and so she does.

Because Lisa, like Javi, is just trying to help. Overwhelmed by a situation too big, too dangerous. Stepped onto what looks like solid ground, unaware of the danger til it’s too late. But this time, Nat’s not going to let Misty or anybody talk her into letting someone else take her place, not again. She closes the cycle.

I can’t stand seeing people saying she died for nothing, she died for EVERYTHING she believed in. She didn’t die just as she was working on herself, she died BECAUSE she gave up on that work, she was in that situation because she chose violence, and then she chose to give it up in the last moment. She died because she couldn’t forgive. Herself. Misty. Lottie. Any of the other ‘jackets who stood by and let her live. Let her kill. She died because she decided that Lisa was more important than her, and that maybe just maybe she could do it better than she had.

But here’s the thing. Coach says “You’re not like the rest of these girls.” And she replies...

Cycles, cycles... will Lisa be able to forgive herself for surviving Nat? Only time will tell, but we have to have faith in her, like Nat did.

Tai in the car, with Shauna says “I have Simone and Sammy, you have Jeff and Callie. Who does Natalie have?” Nat had Lisa. And now, Tai has Van. Shauna still has Jeff and Callie. Lottie’s hopefully got help. Misty has Walter (thoughts for another day). And Lisa?... Who does Lisa have?...

Watch this space.

#yellowjackets #spoilers #pain and pain and pain again

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disregardcanon · 1 year

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thinking about that interview with jasmin savoy where she talks about how tai losing her sense of fashion as the wilderness story line progresses shows a loss of her sense of self, and like. if we assume that's an intentional costuming choice, that is soooo interesting with adult! tai.

before the crash, tai dressed in a way that was bright and bold and stylish. like it was feminine, but it was very bold. child! tai had brightly colored ponytail holders. she didn't dress in a way that made her... smaller, even though it was also more "feminine".

adult tai in season 1 when she's really in her I Am Going to be a State Senator and I Have This Figured Out, Yeah! it's feminine and professional and most of all unimposing. i think it's a great way of showing how much she's melted into simone in trying to shape what the adult tai she might have been would look like.

in later season 2, when she's back with van, we see her in all of van's clothes: 90s butch aesthetic. which is just another indication of that loss of identity. tai had a solid idea of who she was and who she was going to keep being before the crash, but she's spent so much time repressing everything that now she doesn't have a clue, it's just modeling herself off the women in her life. like ann perkins from parks and rec but with way more lesbian trauma

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets meta #taissa turner #god i love her so much #tai my wonderful girl #simone this isn't your fault btw #she was like this when you got her #taivan #taisimone

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 months

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Down Among the Dead Men

Bones in the Ocean Masterlist

CW: Captivity, creepy whumper, abusive parent, magical whump talk

Kira wore her body like a suit of armor beneath the old-fashioned dress she had been laced into.

She could have made a point, she supposed, by refusing to perform the spell. Refusing to give Lord Wentworth the prettied-up face he was planning to make his son’s wife - but really his own, unless she did what he wanted and remade the marks holding the siren in unending bondage.

The thought sent a chill down her spine, made bile rise in her throat.

She could have gone down the stairs in too-tight shoes, with her dress hanging wrongly off flat narrow hips and wrinkling over the missing bust it had been designed to politely emphasize, yet clinging too tight to wider shoulders. She could have sat hunched over and tipped her head so the light always hit just so along the angular jaw she had unwillingly grown into and its hint of five o’clock shadow.

She could have handed him all the harsher angles of masculinity she loathed and had worked so hard to learn how to undo every morning… but then she would not have gone down the stairs and towards the dining room feeling wholly herself.

She would have felt off-balance, and losing your balance in a fight meant a knife to your throat before you ever raised your sword. She knew that much.

She would not let Guilford Wentworth take away whatever advantage she had, and she certainly would not hand it over herself. Moving through the world in the body she wanted, the body that felt like hers, was the most important way she had protected herself in life. She needed that protection now.

Guilford Wentworth could stare all he wanted. His eyes could get no deeper than skin.

Not yet.

Not ever, she reminded herself, as nausea flipped and twisted, wiping away her hunger. Don’t let ‘yet’ be a word in your mind. Let it be not ever.

Kira Losna straightened her shoulders and spine, lifted her chin, and performed the spell. The intricate gestures that the spell required had been something she’d deciphered all on her own, and unlike nearly every other spell, she’d never had to use the paint to create it. She had always assumed it was because no one else had needed it as badly as she did, or maybe flattered herself with the idea that she was uniquely talented, but now… now, she wondered.

Was this wild magic? This shifting of shape, easing angles and encouraging curves?

Wild magic, the siren had called melting the fork in anger. Wild magic had been what he named the sense of heat in her palms that scorched the wall. Wild magic was the sort wielded by the children of gods, like the sirens who guarded oceans, dryads in the sprawling tai forests and the drendu in the rivers, the lumbering trolls in caves, the pahlomar in the thin air of the mountains to the far south… the children of the gods. Not… humans, whose magic has been stolen painstakingly through centuries of learning just the right symbols to pull its threads from the world around them. Wild magic was a power whose roots went deeper than trees and twisted through the currents of rivers, spread with the mycelium of fungi, spanned the huge breadth of the grand oceans and sang to the moon with wolves. Wild magic had been the siren’s birthright. The painted runes on the siren’s skin had twisted and corrupted that power from its natural state and made into a weapon in Guilford Wentworth’s hands.

Kira had never heard of such a thing before - and her heart went cold with horror any time she let herself think too long about how quickly men would leap upon the chance to take their own wild magic, if they knew it could be done. Humans had only what they could take, the inherent magic in them was so slight and faded it could do little more than warm a cup of coffee.

Then again, Kira had changed her body to suit her mind.

No one else had ever been able to do that, either.

Still, she was only human. Whatever strange magic Kira had must be something else. It was only that the siren knew only the one kind and couldn’t see beyond it. There were no humans with wild magic.

Were there?

Through all these thoughts, the servant girl Nadette had laced her up as if utterly unaware of her distraction. Nadette ignored how her hips suddenly curved out beneath her skirts, her bust filled the fabric, and acted as if she never saw the way Kira’s jaw softened. Maybe she had been spelled not to notice them by the siren on Lord Wentworth’s command. Or… maybe she was simply kind enough to see Kira as she was, not as birth had mistakenly formed her.

Instead, Nadette had been chatty, rambling with excitement about a new horse in the stables, a purebred that was all long lines and impressive speed. Bit of a bastard to handle, but the stableboy had him well in hand. “Lord Wentworth likes his horses spirited,” Nadette said brightly, finishing the laces carefully, ensuring Kira could still breathe well and deeply. “He likes them to be fighters.”

“Oh, does he?” Kira heard herself answer, her voice wobbling a little. Her thoughts raced ahead in time, threatening to drag her down.

“Oh, yes.” Nadette hummed, helping to pull the longer-sleeved overdress up, lightly belted at Kira’s narrow waist. It was all so… fussy. But Kira had to admit that it seemed somewhat difficult to stab someone through all these layers of boning and heavy fabric. “His lordship always says that if they don't fight back, then it's hardly worth the breaking of them. It is a harsh way to see them, I know, but his horses do all go on to win the races…”

Some part of Kira wanted to bark out harsh laughter, but she held it inside, staring at herself in the mirror. “That does sound like him,” She replied, her voice trembling with suppressed hysterical humor.

Nadette pulled her hair back and away from her face, caught with a ribbon that tried more or less in vain to contain the weight and wildness of it. Kira could only wish her the best.

Nadette stepped back, giving her a careful look up and down, and then smiled. “I think you’re ready. Should we go downstairs, Miss Losna? I believe the young men are already in the study waiting.”

Kira paused, turning to look at Nadette with her eyebrows slightly raised. “What? Young men?”

“Why, yes. Master Ford, of course-”

“Of course. Yes, I knew him, but who else? That b-... Lord Wentworth is not what I would call young…”

Nadette laughed. “Oh, he would not like to hear you say it so honestly! Indeed, Master Ford brought a friend over.” Nadette gave her an impish, winsome little smile. “Likely hoping to have someone close to take the measure of you, ma’am. One always hopes that one’s friends will get along well enough with their intended.”

The Ford she had met, by turns sullen and beseeching, seemed like he didn’t have a friend in the world. Kira tried to school her face, but wondered what other monsters she would have to meet here. What sort of friend Ford had who could be allowed to know what was being done here. What sort of evil person could be trusted to know she was held here against her will and still dine in style with Guilford Wentworth and his unwilling son?

“Of course,” She said, schooling voice and expression both into stillness. “Let’s go.”

Nadette fell in behind her as she stepped out into the hallway, walking past walls lined in paintings from over the past two centuries. Kira had to admit Guilford Wentworth was a slimy wretch who had an excellent eye for art. It was all beautiful. Landscapes of babbling brooks, mountains jutting harsh against the plain blue sky, children playing in rolling meadows and wheat fields seemed to blend all together with the occasional painting of a god’s child lingering in the shadows of its environment.

One of the dead wives was in a painting, and she paused briefly to look. The wife and the woman beside her had very different expressions as they sat for the painting, watching a young girl on the floor. Eliza, Kira thought - that one was Eliza, the first wife Guilford had taken for himself by magic, smiling with a dreamy, far-away look that seemed not to see the beautifully decorated drawing room around her, or even her own child. Beside her, the other woman. Her expression was darker, sharper, seeing clearly. Atabei, Kira reminded herself. Her name had been Atabei, the first magician to give him the siren.

“Will there-” Kira’s voice caught briefly in her throat, captured wholly by the look of something like the animal in a cage in Atabei’s face, masterfully writ in oil and brushstroke. “Will there be wine, at dinner, Nadette?”

She needed something to stop her hands from shaking. If there was no wine, she might scream, and scream, and never stop screaming.

Atabei’s eyes seemed to follow her as she moved. A chill down her spine and - she must be imagining it - a whisper of a smell like jessamine flowers from the colonies.

She would go mad here, surrounded by the women who had gone mad before her.

If there was no wine-

“I assume so, Miss Losna.” Nadette didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. “Shall I go ahead and pour you some?”

“Please,” Kira whispered, pathetically grateful. Atabei, she thought once again. Atabei, a woman knowing the very make of the bars of her cage but unable to undo the lock. Her future, reflected back at her from two centuries in the past.

Or perhaps she would be the pretty wife, Eliza with her dreamy far-away smile, her mind undone by the stroke of a brush and the siren’s song.

Her hands were shaking so badly that she could barely hold the wineglass as Nadette poured the deep red liquid into it. Her heart tried to race itself around her chest, and the world threatened ominously to spin.

Kira steadied herself as best she could and drained the cup in a few short gulps. She drank so much so fast she had to wipe drops from the corner of her mouth before they could run and stain her dress, bloodied tears.

“Thank you,” She said, hoarsely, and held the emptied glass out. “Another, please.”

Nadette paused, with the stem of the glass held carefully in her fingertips. Her eyebrows delicately raised in surprise. “Miss Losna…?”

“Please, Nadette.” She swallowed, her mouth already tacky with the overdone fruit-flavor, the wine too sweet, too heavy. But it was wine all the same. “Please.”

“... Yes, Miss Losna. Of course.” Nadette frowned, laying a hand on her arm. “Miss Losna, are you-”

She stopped.

Kira had looked away, unable to bear it if the pretty servant girl judged her for needing the courage wine could give. But now she looked back, and gods help them all… she saw as the contented fog that seemed to always cloud over Nadette’s eyes seemed to clear. “... Miss Losna-... Oh, oh no.” Nadette pulled back, eyes suddenly so wide Kira could see the white ringing them all around. Tears set them to glimmering like marbles with a spike of terror. “Oh-” Her voice was air, and then she grabbed back onto Kira’s arm with both hands, this time so tightly her fingernails pressed divots into Kira’s sleeves and the skin beneath. “Miss Losna, I-... I don’t want to be here-”

Hope bloomed in Kira, as painful and deadly as any blade through the ribs.

“I know,” She soothed, moving to peel back Nadette’s fingers one by one. “I know, it is the siren’s song, the magic. I know. The magic is fading, but it will take you over again soon. If you could just do one thing for me-”

Nadette didn’t quite seem to hear her. “I remember, Miss, I remember… it’s not a sea serpent at all! It’s-”

“I know!” Her voice was louder than she meant it to be, and Kira winced, pitching her voice to just above a whisper again. Warmth was in her cheeks and shoulders, the wine or the possibility of some escape from this beautiful hell. “I know,” She said again. “I know what he is. But listen, you must listen to me while you can hear me clearly, Nadette. Can you hear me clearly?”

Nadette swallowed, blinking back her tears. “I-... yes, Miss, I can hear you.” Her voice was thin and trembling, but her chin raised up, and Kira could have kissed her for that steel courage she showed beneath the fear that must feel all-encompassing.

“Wonderful. Listen to me closely. Go upstairs,” Kira whispered, her eyes flickering away towards the dining room, then back to the servant’s growing horrified comprehension. “Find me a window with no bars, one I can climb out of. Let me know which window it is. Write it down and put it under my pillow. I can fix this, I can free us all, but only with my tools and he has taken those from me and he will force me to remake the magic strong again. If I am not here, if I escape, he cannot do that and it will fade away and you will all be free. Find me a way out. Go, Nadette, please!”

Nadette did not move at first, only stood there. In a face that had gone ashen pale and a little green, two red spots glowed along her cheekbones. How long this break in the spell would last, Kira couldn’t begin to know. There was no time for Nadette’s terror. “You’ll leave? But-”

“Find the window! Go!” Kira grabbed her by the arm and shoved her back towards the stairway, and watched the girl take her skirts up in one hand and run.

Please, whoever may hear me when I pray, let the clarity last long enough.

She shouldn’t have turned her back on the door to the dining room. She felt his eyes on her before he even spoke, the slimy bastard. At least he would not surprise her. She was still struggling to get her breath under control, one hand over her stomach, when she felt the weight of his gaze.

“Miss Losna.” She could see a slick of oil on an ocean surface in his voice, hear it in the lilt of his falsely lordly accent. “Where is Nadette?”

Kira raised her chin and turned around, forcing her voice into a perfect calmness even as her heart raced too fast, left her dizzy for lack of air, her mouth tacky with the aftertaste of that terrible wine. “I sent her back to my room to bring me my book,” She lied, and somehow - thank the gods she believed in and the ones she didn’t - her voice was steady, even, and strong. “As I don’t intend to be much of a conversationalist, and whatever prisoner you kept before me was quite the reader.”

Guilford hummed, seemingly offended, and offered her his arm. Kira stared at it, then swept past him.

One thing to say about the heavy skirts, they absolutely made it easy to hold up your chin and feel as powerful as any queen as a man had to step out of your path to avoid being simply bowled over by their volume. Kira felt every bit of her womanhood, inside and out.

When she stepped into the dining room, Ford - seated facing her and with a glass of something that was very much not wine in his hand - pushed himself to his feet with a scrape of his chair, inclining his chin and leaning slightly forward. It wasn’t a bow, but it wasn’t not a bow either. “Miss Losna. You look lovely tonight.”

His voice was slightly slurred already with drink.

She envied him.

Seated just to the right of the head of the table was-

The siren.

Ah.

Ford’s friend. Just another spell, another bit of magic to hide from the servants what it was that truly gave Guilford Wentworth his power and influence.

The siren was slightly slumped in his seat, insolent hostility in his expression, although some of it faded as he looked up at her. He didn’t stand, or fake a bow. He didn’t even speak. All he did was look at her.

And yet it felt far warmer than Ford’s practiced manners.

“Good evening to you both,” She said, moving quickly so that Wentworth, who had come up behind her, had no reason to touch her to try and get her to move further into the room. She chose a chair and sat, graceless but it was worth it to catch a glimpse of Wentworth’s hand hovering, having expected to push her in and having lost his chance.

She saw something cold in his face. It was there and then gone, replaced by genial good humor, but Kira knew that look very, very well in certain men and women with ideas of what belonged to them. She was a toy not playing by his rules, and that could be a very dangerous kind of toy to be.

So she took a deep breath, until she felt the reassuring stability of the boning in her corset against her ribs - the strong lacing keeping her back upright. “What is being served tonight?” She asked, simply to break the silence.

“Mmmn, roast pork I believe,” Ford responded. His eyes were more than a little glassy, and she wondered when he’d begun drinking. Or if he ever really stopped. He was younger than Kira, he shouldn’t be living in his cups like this.

Except maybe that was his only way of surviving in this house.

Babbage came in, alongside two more servants whose names Kira hadn’t yet learned. All of them wore the same sweet, soft, fogged-over smiles that Eliza had worn in the painting of her. Before them all was settled a small bowl of a vibrant green puree with a spiral of white, lightly steaming. Kira could smell something garden-fresh.

“Spring pea soup,” Babbage announced. “With fresh cream.”

“Lovely,” Wentworth said, in the most genuine tone she’d heard him take yet. Kira, moving on pure thoughtless instinct, picked up her spoon, letting the green just touch the tip of the metal. Ford and Guilford picked their own spoons up as soon as she did and began sipping, Guilford humming happily and Ford clearly trying to sneak as many drinks from his glass as he could between bites of soup.

The siren stared at his bowl as if it might grow three heads and bite him.

She had to admit, once she gave in and lifted the spoon fully to her mouth, that the spring pea soup was indeed delicious.

Clearly, a very good cook indeed had been spelled into serving Guilford in his mansion.

“What do you think, Miss Losna?” Ford spoke formally, but there was a hint of a lazy smile on him. Being in the same room as his father hadn’t quite undone him. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” She said, refusing to look at Wentworth, knowing she’d see only the smug arrogance on him now. “It’s very good. How can you grow these? It is out of season for them.”

“Oh, we keep greenhouses so I may have the best whenever I want it.”

“... Of course. Well, it is delicious. I must have the recipe for when I head back to my home.”

Guilford Wentworth laughed. Ford’s hint of a smile faded and he looked down and away. Kira found herself idly wondering what Ford was like when his father’s gaze wasn’t on him, when he wasn’t in this house, this monument to Guilford Wentworth’s hold on a magic he should never have been able to touch.

“And so you shall,” Guilford announced cheerfully. “Once our business is concluded, of course, hm? And you?” He turned back to the siren. “Take a bite, Areyto.”

Areyto didn’t look at Wentworth at all - he was looking at Kira, openly and without a gentleman’s knowledge to keep his stare less than direct. He shifted uncomfortably even in the simple, loose shirt he was wearing, one hand twisting idly as the fabric on his other sleeve, picking at it with blunt nails she knew could just as quickly be vicious, sharp claws. His hand moved and picked up the spoon, pooled some liquid in it, brought it to his mouth. Kira watched him fight back a heave when he sipped. The spoon dropped back to the plate, splatters of green droplets across the soft pale white.

“Well,” Guilford said, playfully chiding. “That was quite rude, don’t you think?”

Areyto’s gaze darkened. “I do not eat your soups,” He said, something very like a growl underneath the human words. “Your food. You know that.”

Kira cleared her throat, leaning forward. “Lord Wentworth, may I ask-”

Wentworth’s expression had chilled at the siren’s insolence, but it warmed once he looked back at her, not quite leering. “Anything, my dear.”

She shuddered, and fought down her disgust. “I mean only to ask… what does-... he eat? If he doesn’t eat what you do?”

“Him?” Wentworth smiled. “Oh, we keep a pond well-stocked in the labyrinth. I’ve taken to calling it after one of my sons, who unfortunately drowned in it one night. Dreft Pond. It’s the word for three in the language they speak in Lahssa. His lovely wife had been born there, she called him Dreft as a bit of a pet name, I think. He had taken such a risk, night swimming alone… no one to hear you when you drown-”

There was a clang of metal against ceramic.

Kira jumped, and she and Guilford turned to see Ford looking wide-eyed not with fear, but with a fury that seemed to overtake him all at once. “How dare you,” He hissed.

Wentworth’s eyebrows raised. “I beg your pardon?”

“How dare you make light of what happened to him! How dare you mock my father right here in front of me!” Ford pushed his chair back and shoved himself to his face. “My father was a good swimmer, he knew never to swim alone at night, he knew!”

Guilford was a shark smelling blood. His eyes were gone from Kira in a flash, and entirely on Ford. He was playing at a father’s righteous anger but the smirk on his face gave away how much he enjoyed the excuse. “This is unbecoming. Sit, boy.”

“I am not a boy! I am a grown man, and I will not stand for your slander against one who cannot defend himself now!” Ford stayed standing, hands on the tabletop, glaring daggers at Lord Wentworth with a strength Kira hadn’t known he possessed. “If you want my good manners and my kneeling and my bullshit lies to match yours, then don’t talk about my father like that! He was a good man! He tried so hard to be a good man! And you-... you-”

“I said,” Guilford said, voice low and menacing now, ”Sit down. You will not be so rude before our guest. You will not spread such gossip. I am your father.”

“You’re not! You never were!” Ford’s words were less speech than a wail of anger, drawn out by the drink but fueled by a hatred that Kira couldn’t take her eyes off of. It burned in him like summer wildfires, all out of control, leaving only skeletons and ash behind. He picked up the glass, nearly emptied, he’d been drinking from, and threw it.

Guilford had to jerk his head to the side to avoid it - even drunk, Kira noted with admiration, Ford had wonderful aim - and it hit the wall behind him and shattered, liquid dripping down towards the floor.

“Ford!” Guilford’s voice was a roar, now, shocked out of his arrogant amusement. He stood also. Kira stayed seated, her heart racing, and looked at the siren for help.

He watched the two men, too, but without fear. Only with the expression of someone who had watched something like this before, over and over again, and knows how it will end.

Ford jabbed his finger in the air as if it were a sword. “You are not my father! You are the man who killed my father! He was your son! He, who you ordered to go into the water! Who you commanded your creature to feed on!”

Wentworth blinked. He went still. “What? How did you know-”

Ford laughed, hysterical and humorless. “You may have taken our mother’s memories of her husband, but you didn’t bother to take anything from Nathalie and I, did you? Didn’t even think of us as people who needed to be fooled!”

Wentworth was dumbfounded.

Kira found she enjoyed that very much.

Ford wasn’t done, though. He stalked down the length of the table until he stood only inches from Wentworth, on the other side of the siren’s chair, as if they kept the poor thing between them. “Tell me, are his bones still in the water? Are they? Did you command the siren to eat off all his skin, or was any left for the carrion feeders? Did my sister and I go to visit our father’s grave every time you told us to go and feed the fish? Did you think it was funny to have us do it? Did you laugh to see she and I at the very place where you murdered him?!”

Guilford swallowed, once. Twice. He seemed to be having some difficulty. “You will calm yourself-”

“No, I will not! I saw it all, you bastard.” Ford’s teeth were bared, as if he echoed the siren’s own anger even without the teeth to make the expression much of a threat. The siren, where he sat between them, looked… bored. But Ford’s finger was poking in the air again. “You, you ordered my mother to never remember her great love but you cared so little for my sister and I, you-... how dare you call me your son when you want to use me as you once used him!”

Wentworth stepped closer, and - with the siren still sitting down in his chair between the two men - slapped his son across the face with a crack that echoed through the room, harsh as thunder. Kira half expected it to rattle the windows.

The blow sent Ford sideways onto the tabletop, slamming into it so hard he seemed stunned, plates and wineglasses rattling. Kira’s wine spilled across the white tablecloth with a bloody stain, and Areyto’s soup spilled over the side of the bowl. Ford was breathing harshly as he pushed himself back up. His sleeve was soaking wet now from the spilled water, one side of his face nearly scarlet from the force with which Wentworth had hit him. He took in a breath.

“Oh,” Ford whispered. “I… I apologize. My outburst was… uncalled for.”

“You damn well should,” Wentworth said, voice low. Kira’s heart pounded so hard she could barely breathe.

“I… I shall take my leave,” Ford said in a strangled voice after a silence. “En-enjoy your dinner, Miss Losna. I-... I will tell Babbage I will finish in my room-”

“You will do no such thing,” Wentworth snapped. “Leave and starve.”

Ford stood, torn between instinctive obedience and whatever had propelled him to the fit of defiance in the first place. “I-”

“Get out of I shall have Areyto tell you to leave.”

Ford’s eyes went to the siren, who looked back at him impassively. Then he turned on his heel and stumbled from the room, hardly able to walk straight. Barely able to stand. Kira watched him go, and felt a wild, irrational urge to beg him not to leave her alone in here.

Not that he had much of a choice.

Even fewer choices than Kira herself had, really.

Something in Kira’s hint of hope faded as she watched Ford’s back disappear through the dining room doors and heard his shuffling, stumbling feet on the stairs.

“Disgraceful,” Wentworth muttered. “Absolutely disgraceful.” He seemed to come to some inner decision and sat back down, shaking his head as if shaking water from his ears. “He will regret that, later. Now.” He clapped his hands, one bright sound, and the door to the kitchens swung openly immediately and the three servants reappeared, nervously looking from one of them to another. “My son has chosen to leave early,” Wentworth said with false cheer. “Please clean up this mess and bring the next course, Babbage.”

“Of course, sir,” Babbage said, voice low, his eyes traveling over the debris on the table without comment.

Areyto alone looked wholly unmoved.

There was a long pause that drew out heavy as they waited for the dirtied things to be cleared and clean ones to replace them. The next course was set down, a bit of bread with a white cheese spread atop it, slices of tomato and basil on the side and a drizzle of something dark, sweet and sour. Kira’s pounding heart had taken all the room from her stomach.

Just as she thought she might scream just to break the silence, Guilford’s smile was back, as if nothing had ever happened. “Well, Miss Losna, you must tell me how the weather has been lately in your own hometown.”

Kira stared at him, her mind suddenly empty of everything but a confused screeching. “... what? The-... the weather? You want to talk about the weather?”

“The weather,” Guilford said brightly, “Or your upcoming wedding. You choose.”

A beat passed.

Then Kira exhaled, slowly.

“... The weather has been a little too warm this year…”

She had to find a way out of here, and soon.

Taglist: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump @shrimpwritings @there-will-always-be-blood @latenightcupsofcoffee @angelsproject

#whump #original fiction #fantasy whump #magic whump #magical whump #original fantasy #writing #original writing #captivity #creepy whumper #nonhuman whumpee #multiple whumpees #defiant whumpee #siren whump #siren #male siren #worldbuilding funtimes there in the beginning #bones in the ocean #trans oc

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zeezelweazel · 1 year

Note

i love love your blog!!! could you write a oneshot of best friend! lottie pining over fem! reader and confessing after she gets jealous when a guy flirts with reader at the party?

Lottie Mathews| I'll be yours, if you'll have me

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Thank you so much!

I've read a few fics like this with lottie so I hope this didn't turn out to be too similar to them

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"Ok Lottie, I love you but there's no way you're wearing this shity dress that you stole from TJ Max to Jeff's party. The whole damn school is going to be there!"

Lottie groans and puts that dress to the side while pouting. For a rich girl your taste is very shity Matthews, you're lucky you're cute.

"You only talk shit because you look good in everything."

You giggle at your best friend's childish behaviour and take her hand to pull her towards the closest. All of the deliberate fashion advice that you give her doesn't register to Lottie's brain, her head is already full of you and how gorgeous you look in this outfit and how your make up is flawless and how soft your voice sounds and how silky your hair looks and-

"Earth to Lottie? Do you like the blue skirt or the grey one with this top?"

"Um the blue for sure."

You only nod at her and continue looking through her accessories. Lottie is already stumbling with her words and you haven't even gotten to the party yet. She can practically hear Taissa's voice in her head. 'She's literally head over heels for you just confess to her already'.

"Easier said than done." She mumbles quietly as she stares at you trying to envision a pair of silver earrings with the outfit you've assembled and her insides feel warm.

When you arrive at the party, only 30 minutes late, majority of the people are drunk off their asses. You and Lottie move through the crowd keeping eachother in sight so you don't get lost. Now, when it comes to parties the Yellowjackets usually are spread around. Van and Tai are most likely having a make out session in a random room at Jeff's house. Speaking of Jeff, him and Jackie are probably together and where Jackie is Shauna has to be nearby. Nat is with her friends and Misty is probably not even here.

You and Lottie share a look and mutually decide that it's better to just hang with eachother for now. You enter Jeff's house and like you expected there are tons of people there, talking, dancing and drinking. Speaking of drinking...

"Hey Lot, will you go grab us some drinks? I'll try to look if any of the girls are around here."

Lottie just nods and makes her way to the kitchen where the drinks are, leaving you alone in the crowded living room. After you took a good look at all the people and didn't recognise any of the girls you decided to head towards the pool. That's usually were all the popular girls are and by extension the jocks and if the jocks are there Jeff, Jackie and Shauna must be as well. Sure enough, you spot the three of them sitting in the side of the pool. You start to head to them but someone calls your name and you stop in your tracks. It's a guy from the baseball team, his name is something like Martin..?

He cuts your path to your friends by getting in front of you and starts complimenting your outfit.

"You look so good in that... urm whatever it is! Even at school you always dress so nice. It seems like you know what fits you perfectly. You know what would fit me?"

You suppress a sigh as you heavily contemplate on saying no and just walking away but since Lottie isn't even here yet, and this guy has no chance at all you decide to humor him.

"What would?"

He chuckles and moves closer to you bringing his hand on your chin.

"You, of course."

You can't really hold your laugh this time as a giggle slips through. Unfortunately for you the boy took that as approval of his horrible flirting and got closer as he wrapped his arm around you. At this point you were ready to push him off you hear someone shout from behind you.

"Hey get your hands off of her Markus!"

The boy instantly turns around to look at a very pissed off Lottie coming towards you. She doesn't even wait for him to say anything before she tugs you on her side and glares at him.

"Get the fuck out of here. Now."

You can't help but be surprised at her aggression as you keep looking between her and Markus. Lottie rarely got so angry. As Markus leaves embarrassed Lottie is still following him with her eyes. You look at her face, trying to study her expression.

"Um, Lot? What was that?"

She looks at you surprised, as if she just now realized how obvious her jealousy was. She can even see Jackie and Shauna looking at her with a questioning look.

"Nothing, he was just being creepy and I helped."

You fold your arms over your chest and look at her with a 'do not bullshit me Matthews' look.

"You went like full beast mode there Lot. I've only seen you get like that, like, twice."

Lottie can't handle your questions or the looks from her teammates and there are just so many fucking people in this stupid pool area. So without another word Lottie just storms off, leaving as fast as she came in.

You follow after her as you keep calling out her name. You are even more confused now. Why did she get so angry at that boy flirting with you? And why did she get so defensive when you asked her about it?

You eventually manage to catch up with her in what looks like a guest room. She's sitting down on the bed and looks up at you with e defeated expression.

"Well damn Matthews now you really have to tell me what the fuck was that."

Lottie takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. There's no way out of this now, she knows that much, but still she's scared of telling you how she feels. She can't bear the thought of loosing you. You're the most important person in her life. The one who understands everything when it comes to her parents and her schizophrenia and all that comes with that. You're a good person so she knows that you won't be disgusted or anything but just seeing that pitying look on your face as you try to gently reject her would break her heart. Well it's not like you have any other choice.

"I um... I was jealous." She can see how you're even more confused now but thankfully you let her continue. "There's a reason why I never like anyone you date. Even when they're good people. It's because I get jealous. And I get jealous because well, I like you."

Your eyes widen for a moment and then soften as you look at her sweetly.

"Oh Lot, I like you too, you know that right?" Lottie is so surprised but excited to hear you say that, she almost can't believe it. "There's no way I would let any stupid boyfriend, or girlfriend, come between us. We're best friends."

Best friends

Of course, how did Lottie ever think that you'd like her like that? She feels frustration bubbling up in her chest. You didn't even understand what she meant. Well if she's going to confess might as well do it properly, so she can get rejected properly as well.

"I want to be your stupid girlfriend!"

She doesn't even mean to shout but her words shake you anyway. Holy shit Lottie fucking Matthews said she wants to be my girlfriend?! You are too busy with your internal panic to notice Lottie being on the verge of tears. All you see is a blur passing by you and heading for the door.

Oh hell no, you're not running away again.

You manage to grab her wrist before she makes her escape and spin her around so she's facing you. You don't waste a single second as you grab her face and bring her down so your lips meet in what definitely seems to be the best kiss of your damn life.

Lottie immediately gets the memo as she puts her hands on your waste. It's impossible to kiss for much longer because both of you can't stop grinning. When you pull back, you take a moment to just look at your girlfriend.

"I think we need to thank Markus for this."

"Oh fuck no."

____________________________________________________

#wlw #female reader #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets imagine #lottie x reader #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader

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alj4890 · 4 months

Text

Disbelief

(Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis) in a choices Crackship drabble

Inspired by the prompt: No one believes we're dating

A/N My writer's block finally eased up! Woo! This idea was originally part of my Crackship series involving these two, but I decided to go a different route to their reveal. I still wanted to write this scene for them and thought, why not share it? So here we go, an alternate universe within an alternate universe 🤣

Masterlist

"I've got to find a man." Penelope wailed.

While the other ladies of the court expressed their sympathy, Olivia merely rolled her eyes.

"Madeleine told me again that I needed to find someone after my mess up at the fashion show." Penelope slumped in her chair. "Even after I doubled the donation, she still insisted I make a match before the wedding shower."

Her violet eyes drifted over to where Riley was talking to Drake and Maxwell. A slight frown formed on her lips.

"I don't care what Riley thinks! I'm going to ask Maxwell to enter into a courtship with me." She glanced at Kiara. "And I think you should ask Drake!"

Hana's jaw dropped.

"Penelope!" Kiara gasped. "I don't think I--"

"You have such a crush on him!" Penelope argued. "Isn't it time to finally give in to your fan--"

"Tais-toi!" Kiara exclaimed, looking about to make certain no other nobles overheard their conversation.

"Perhaps," Hana gently interjected, "we should instead focus on why you think Maxwell is right for you."

Kiara breathed a little easier now that the conversation wasn't focused upon her own hopeless love life.

Penelope practically beamed as she went into a list of reasons Maxwell would be a good match.

"He's so sweet! He's always smiling, even though he's stuck with a scandal in his house." She sighed while staring at him. "He's also kinda dreamy. Those blue eyes of his are to die for! And--"

"And he's taken." Olivia declared.

Three pairs of eyes blinked at her in confusion.

"Taken?" Penelope repeated in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

Olivia finished off her glass of wine. Standing up, she addressed the clueless trio with a bit of smugness.

"I mean he is already in a committed relationship."

"With whom?" Kiara asked.

Penelope released a little cry that she attempted to muffle with her hand.

"It's Riley! He's in a relationship with her! That's why she didn't return to America after being caught with Tariq!"

Hana shook her head. "I don't think that's--"

"It isn't Riley!" Olivia snapped. "It's me."

"You what?" Penelope asked.

"I'm the one dating Maxwell!" Olivia announced.

Silence fell upon the group.

Then, a snicker slipped out.

Kiara and Penelope began to laugh to the point tears twinkled in their eyes.

"You and Maxwell Beaumont?" Kiara guffawed.

"Like that would ever happen!" Penelope wiped her eyes as more giggles burst forth.

Hana seemed to be the only one noticing Olivia's short fuse igniting. The longer the two ladies laughed and joked about how ridiculous the notion was, the more menacing Olivia became.

"Why is that funny?" She demanded.

"Because!" Penelope exclaimed. "He's super sweet and just adorable."

"You're more..." Kiara tried to find the right word to describe the duchess.

"Stoic?" Penelope offered.

"Hmm." Kiara tapped her chin in thought. "She is that, yet much more emotional."

The two pondered the notion a little longer.

"You don't like fun." Penelope declared.

"Excuse me?" Olivia bit out.

"Of course she does!" Hana argued. "Just because your idea of fun doesn't match up with hers doesn't mean she--"

Olivia silenced her with a slash of her hand. Though she was grateful for Hana's defence, she was more than capable of fighting her own battles.

"Regardless of what you think," Olivia hissed. "Maxwell and I are together."

"Do the Beaumont's owe you something?" Penelope teased.

Kiara laughed at the notion. "It must be an enormous amount of debt some ancestor of theirs was unable to pay."

"Unlike you," Olivia leaned forward, bracing her hands upon the table, "I don't need any reason to have a man want me."

She straightened her shoulders then smoothed her black dress down. "Maxwell's always been in love with me."

With that, she turned on her heel to join his group.

***************

"I'm so sick of these functions." Drake grumbled. "It'd be different if they actually fed us instead of these little appetizers they occasionally send out."

"I think it's called an amuse-bouche." Riley told him.

"Yeah well, I'm not amused." He mumbled.

"It's supposed to awaken your palate." Maxwell added.

When both Riley and Drake looked at him curiously, he shrugged.

"I heard it on some cooking show."

"Makes sense." Riley teased him. "I mean, it isn't like you grew up with all this fancy dining or anything."

"The lessons were boring." Maxwell explained. "But the food rarely failed to please. "

"Uh huh." Drake rolled his eyes. "Anyway. When do we actually get to have dinner?"

"Probably after Liam and Madeleine are done talking to our hosts." Riley nodded toward the far side of the room.

The trio quietly observed the group speaking to Liam. The way he stood, firm and unmoving let them know that negotiations were not going well.

"Ugh." Drake slumped back against the wall. "We are never getting out of here."

"We're going to starve!" Maxwell clutched his growling stomach. "I can already see a faint light growing brighter in the distance."

"We could always sneak out for a snack." Riley whispered.

Drake and Maxwell perked up at that suggestion.

"I'm game." Drake whispered back. "I hate to leave Liam, but the needs of the many and all that."

"I'll grab Hana." Riley added.

"I'll get Liv." Maxwell turned to leave to do that very thing, only to find himself yanked back by Drake.

"Why in the hell would you get Olivia?" He asked.

Maxwell blinked.

"Um, because she's my girlfriend."

Riley and Drake stared at him for two heartbeats before they burst out laughing.

"You almost had me there Beaumont!" Drake slapped him on the back.

"Your face!" Riley spluttered. "You were so serious!"

"But she is!" Maxwell argued. "Olivia and I have been in a relationship for a while now."

"Uh huh." Drake snickered. "And Liam's decided to make me his fashion expert."

Riley giggled even harder at that notion.

"It's the truth!" Maxwell declared. "I've been in love with Liv for ages. She realized we should be together and--"

"Stop!" Drake pleaded, doubling over.

"I can't breathe!" Riley gasped.

"Guys, I'm telling you the--"

Maxwell paused when Olivia slipped her arm around his waist.

"Kiss me." She demanded.

Without missing a beat, he pulled her into a long and tender kiss.

Riley, Drake, and the ladies Olivia had left behind stared in astonishment at the sight of the two entwined.

When the kiss came to an end, Olivia's smug smirk flashed.

"Want to get out of here?" She asked him.

"With you?" Maxwell's dimpled grin appeared. "Always."

She stepped out of his arms while glaring triumphantly at Penelope.

Lacing his fingers with Olivia's, Maxwell let her lead the way out of the banquet hall.

She led him near the table where Penelope and Kiara sat with Hana.

Pausing once more so they could easily hear her, "Max? How would you like to stay the night with me?"

"Absolutely!" He exclaimed with a grin.

"We didn't get to finish what we started the night before." She continued once she heard Penelope's frustrated squeal. "I think we'll need all night to finally get," she lowered her voice to a purr, "completely satisfied."

Before anyone could react to that blatant hint, Maxwell gripped Olivia's hand and dragged her out of there.

"Maxwell!" She snapped as he pulled her down the street. "Slow down!"

"We have to hurry!" He told her. "That bakery we went to last night closes in twenty minutes!"

She huffed, a slight smile forming at the wrong thoughts she'd planted in everyone's minds.

"You know, we could do more than eat our weight in macarons." She reminded him.

He paused, allowing her to bump right into his arms.

"I fully intend to." He captured her lips in a long, deep kiss. "But I need energy which requires sugar to make sure you wake up completely satisfied."

Olivia's lips curved into an amused smile.

Leave it to Maxwell to find a way to turn a simple dessert into fuel for sex.

Shaking her head in amusement, she takes his hand once more as they hurry on to a nearby bakery.

#choices the royal romance #maxwell beaumont #choices fic writers creations #olivia nevrakis #maxwell x olivia #can't take my eyes off you #choices crackship #the royal romance

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imsososolesbian · 2 months

Text

Clothes change everything

Jackieshauna x Transmasc!Reader

(Transmasc Shauna)

No warnings

Summary: It was time for the end of the school year project. You weren’t ready for what it would offer out to you.

Word Count: 3613

You knew since the start of the semester that the history, fashion and photography classes at your school were going to be doing one big project. Which you were somewhat fine with. That was until you meet with the two other classes your class would be working with.

You had spotted Nat and Tai first. You walked over to them but then you noticed Van was behind Tai, his arms wrapped around her waist, and he was talking to Nat.

You curse in your head and turn to look around, before Van calls out to you, “Go work with Shauna and Jackie,” a huge smirk on his face was what greeted you when you had turned around to look at him.

Van had known for a while that you had a crush on both of them. You told him a few weeks back when you had watched his soccer practice because you needed a ride, like you usually did. You had let it slip after gushing about how good the two were at the game.

You looked around once more seeing that there were indeed now only two people left, Jackie and Shauna. You could really not catch a break. Especially as you walked over because Shauna looked you in the eyes and you almost tripped over your own shoes.

“Hey, I’m Van’s friend.” You said and both of them nodded their heads.

“Yeah, we’ve seen you around. You watch practice all the time. And your eyes always seem to be on Jackie,” Shauna wraps his arm around Jackie’s shoulder as he speaks, his eyes bearing into yours, and all you can do is blush.

“No, I think it’s you, Shipman.” Jackie jokes, leaning into Shauna, her head resting on his shoulder as Jackie eyes you up and down.

Before you could even speak, the teachers started to explain what you were doing. The person in the history class would have to do research on a time period, the fashion person would have to make three outfits and you would have to document with your camera, and at the end do a photoshoot.

The three of you agreed to meet Friday night. You’d watch their practice and then Shauna would drive you all to Jackie’s.

After practice that day, Shauna and Jackie were walking to Shauna’s car, hand in hand. “She was pretty cute, yeah?”

“She was,” Shauna nodded, “You thinking what I am?” Shauna asked looking over to Jackie as he opened the trunk of his car, and tossed in his and Jackie’s soccer bags as well as their backpacks.

Shauna stayed over at Jackie’s that night, the two huddled together as Shauna got a head start on his research.

The two had showered and ate, before making their ways up to Jackie’s room. The two sat on Jackie’s bed, Jackie laying her head on Shauna’s lap as Shauna typed away on his laptop. Jackie’s head on one of his thighs as his laptop laid on his other. Shauna occasionally leaned down and kissed Jackie’s face.

Times like this was the only time that Jackie wouldn’t talk. Jackie liked looking at Shauna as he did work. It was calming. Shauna couldn’t even count on his hands the number of times Jackie had fallen asleep on his lap as he worked.

Friday had come sooner than you thought it would. You found yourself following Van out of class and out into the hallway. The two of you had lockers close to each other so you were tasked with coming with him and holding onto his backpack as he went to practice. You knew he did it to just get on your nerves, because every other time he would leave it in the locker room. You also knew that he kept all sorts of different snacks in his bag.

You walked him to the locker room, and then made your way out to the bleachers and took a seat. You sat on the bottom steps, and pulled open Van’s bag, reaching in and rummaging around before your hand stopped on something and you pulled out a bag of gummy bears, and read the package, score it was those fancy vegan ones, you weren’t vegan but you would never pass them up. You tore it open and tossed a few into your mouth as you waited for the practice to start.

Soon enough people were out on the field and you pushed the bag back into Van’s backpack. You watched the practice unfold, only going on your phone a few times. You even almost got hit in the head by the ball, but it stopped a few feet away as it dropped to the ground.

Soon enough you had a sweaty Van running over to you once changed and grabbed his bag. “Did you eat my gummies?” he asked as he took the bag from your hands. You shake your head.

“No, a squirrel got into them. Sorry Van. Gotta go. Have fun with your lover and Nat!” you say as you pick up your bag and start to walk over to where Jackie and Shauna were waiting for you. Jackie was pressed into Shauna’s side again, Shauna’s arm around Jackie’s shoulder.

“Let’s go, this one needs a shower,” Jackie pushes away from Shauna, a teasing look on her face as she then grabs onto you. Her hand wrapping around your forearm and pulling you closer to her. You look between Jackie and Shauna, you were surprised that all Shauna did was shake his head and run a hand through his hair as he watched his girlfriend.

Jackie pulled you along as the three of you walked towards Shauna’s car. Jackie kept a tight hold on you as Shauna trailed behind the both of you, holding both his and Jackie’s bag. You couldn’t help but be happy in the moment. You liked the feeling of Jackie’s hand on your arm. You could feel Shauna eyes on the both of you. It was nice.

Shauna had loaded your bags into the trunk of his car, a soft look on his face as he listened to Jackie talk your ear off about what had happened at the practice you had just witnessed. You let her, it was obvious she loved the sport and you thought it was cool how much she could talk about the subject.

“Jax, shotgun or backseat?” Shauna had asked as he pulled the passenger seat down and forward so you could get into the back. Jackie quickly got in after you, a huge smile on her face.

“I’ll sit back here with this one. Which means I guess we can listen to just your music,” Jackie rolled her eyes as she pulled her seatbelt on, and rested her head onto your shoulder. You have never met someone who could be this touchy with someone they hardly knew. But you had worked on the project during school hours the past couple of days so you guessed it was normal.

Shauna started the car and turned the radio on, he made sure his mirrors were sitting right before he pulled his car into drive and started on the way to Jackie’s. You knew it wasn’t a long ride, yet Jackie was still able to fall asleep on the way there.

“You think you can carry her? She had a rough day, I don’t want to wake her up. And she only lets specific people touch her bag,” Shauna says as he looks through the rearview mirror, a fond look on his face.

You nod, you may look like a nerd but you actually had a lot of upper body strength. So when the three of you finally made it to Jackies you carefully climbed over her body to get out of the back seat, from the passenger side. You unbuckled her, and gently brought her into your arms. You held her body bridal style as you walked over to Shauna who was gathering the bags from the back of the trunk.

Shauna shut his trunk as softly as he could and opened the smallest pocket on Jackie’s bag fishing out a key, “Come on,” Shauna mumbles as he walks past you, going towards the front door.

Shauna had pushed open the door, and put your bags down, before he kicked his shoes off and turned to start taking off Jackies, “Her mom isn’t a fan of shoes in the house,” Shauna explained. You nodded and quickly took your shoes off. You weren’t one who liked to anger others.

Shauna grabbed his laptop out of his backpack, and you asked him to get your camera which he did. You follow him up to Jackie’s room where he tells you to stay put before he wakes her up. Jackie almost falls out of your arms when Shauna gently shakes her shoulder.

Shauna guides Jackie out of the bedroom once she is on the ground. He told you the two of them were going to take a shower, and so you waited in the silence as the two took an hour to shower. When they came back in, Jackie laid down on her bed in a pair of sweatpants and a flannel shirt, where she fell asleep once more. Shauna walked over to Jackie’s desk where he got to work on his laptop top. You walked over to Shauna, and picked up your camera.

You quickly snap a picture to make sure it’s working well before deleting it. You and Shauna let Jackie rest, as the two of you speak quietly. You snap pictures as Shauna starts to type out the good copy of the history report part of the project. He added in photos when needed and little diagrams. He was a happy person in private, compared to what you usually saw of him in the hallways or when he was out on the field.

Two hours later Jackie woke up and she rubbed her eyes. Sitting up she looked over seeing the two of you talk as Shauna put the finishing touches on his information. She got up out of bed and walked over to the desk, wrapping her arms around Shauna’s waist, and burying her head into his shoulder.

Shauna laughed and closed his laptop finally, “She has awakened!”

You tap your fingers off of the desk, “Perfect timing. Shauna said you can start on the sketches now.”

Jackie smiles and pulls away from Shauna and opens a drawer, a few pencils and a sketchbook lay inside. She picks out a green, pink and purple pencil. She moves back over to her bed, and looks up at Shauna, “Laptop?” she asked as she opened her book to a new page.

Shauna opens his laptop and brings it over to Jackie. He points out what type of outfits would be best, seeing as they had the most information on those ones. He kissed her head before going back to sitting next to you.

“Can I have a mens outfit?” you speak up, picking at your fingernails. You weren’t out at school, no one other than Van knew you were a transmasc lesbian. You really didn’t want to wear a dress that was typical of the time period your group had picked.

Jackie looked up from her book, “I suppose so. We’d need to find you a binder. Shauna, where did you buy yours?”

“On a website, I could show you some options?” Shauna looked over to you, a smile on his face.

You nod your head, and watch as Shauna pulls out his phone. He opens up google and looks up a website. He passes his phone to you, “This is the type I have. It’s full length. It’s very comfortable for me, but there are many other types you could get. Also colours,”

You scroll through the options. You land on one you liked. It would only cover your chest, and it was also your favourite colour which you found very cool. You look up from Shauna’s phone, “I found one,” you say into the quiet of the room.

“Shauna, babe, grab my debit card please?” Jackie asked from her bed, not even looking up from her sketchbook. Shauna got up, and moved towards Jackie’s door where her purse was and pulled out her wallet. He opened the clasp on her wallet and took out her card, and put the wallet back.

Shauna walked over to you and took his phone back, and handed it off to Jackie who put her sketchbook to the side and started to order the binder for you, “You don’t have to buy that for me. I can buy it myself,” you try but get shushed by Jackie.

“It’s a thank you for letting me sleep on your shoulder on the drive here,” Jackie looked up from the phone with a stern look on her face, “Let me treat you to something.”

You nod your head, and go back to your camera. You bring it up to your face and take a picture of Jackie and Shauna looking at Shauna’s phone. You smile at the picture, Shauna was leaning over Jackie’s shoulder as Jackie typed on the phone.

Jackie hands Shauna his phone when she is done and goes back to drawing. You get up and take a picture of Shauna’s computer screen where his completed project was shown. You take a picture of it, making sure the lighting was right so the words on the screen could actually be readen.

Then you pointed the camera down at Jackie's sketchbook. She was working on a dress right now. “What’s that type called?” you put your camera down onto Jackie’s bed as you watch her draw, you were memorised by the skilled and easied of way that her hand gladied over the paper.

“It’s called a wrap dress. It was evening and day wear back in the 70s,” Jackie said, she didn’t look up from her work. She did have a smile on her face though as she replied to your question. “I think I’m going to put you in a more punk style. That was big, and Shauna is going to get a turtleneck and a pair of flared tight pants,” she explains, looking up quickly from her book to look at yours and Shauna’s faces to see if it was going to go over well.

You nod your head, “Awesome. I hate turtlenecks. Make me itchy,” you pick your camera up and walk around her room again.

“Oh yeah. Forgot to ask,” Shauna speaks up as he watches you walk around and look at Jackie’s room. “Are you transgender?”

You shake your head, “Transmasc… Transmasc lesbian. Like uh… like you Shauna. He/him pronouns and all,” you reply, your eyes wouldn’t meet Shauna’s as you spoke.

“Jackie must really have a type then,” Shauna laughs before his face is met with a pillow. Shauna picks up the dropped pillow and tosses back towards Jackie’s bed. “That wasn’t very nice of you Jax.”

“I’m sorry I have a thing for cute nerdy quiet transmasc lesbians… You are the reason it started Shauna,” Jackie mutters, her eyes drifting from her book to look at Shauna with a glare, that turned into a soft fond look as she took in the smirking face of her boyfriend.

You look between the two stunned. “What?” you ask, looking at Jackie and then at Shauna.

“You’re cute. That’s what it is,” Shauna tells you, a smile on his face.

“Oh uh, I- Thanks?” You say, you smile before looking away from the two of them. You start to mess around with your camera, not looking at either, but you could hear soft giggles coming from Shauna as he watched you.

The night was one to remember. You had been driven crazy by the two the whole night once Jackie had finished her designs. The three of you had supper together well you watched reruns of Modern Family. You had been squeezed in between the two. Jackie was settled into your side, her head on your shoulder and you had your arm around her. Shauna had a hand on your knee and you felt comfortable in life for once, it was the best day you could think of having in forever.

Shauna drove you home that night. His hand once more on your knee as you told him directions to your house. There was light music in the background, and he would squeeze your knee at random times. When he made it to your house he got out, and closed his car door before walking around to the passenger side and opening the door for you. He walked with you to your front door and before he let you go in he spoke up.

“Jackie told me to give you something. So if I may? Would you like to kiss?” He asks, his hands were behind his back and he had a soft and sweet smile on his as he looked at you. You nodded and watched as he moved in and placed a soft kiss to your cheek before he turned, “See you at school on Monday, Jackie and I don’t have a game or practice so we are all yours for the project and all you know?”

That night you fall asleep to the thought of Shauna and Jackie. You don’t think it was just a silly little crush anymore. It was something far bigger now. It was going to have to be dealt with sooner or later. And you wished it was later rather than sooner this time.

Monday and all other days after that were in a blur. Jackie did her dress first so she could get using a mannequin out of the way. She hated using those, she liked using human models. It was much easier. Her dress was beautiful, it was pink and had puffy like long sleeves.

The first time she showed you and Shauna the dress on her, the two of you were speechless. You and Shauna had gotten up and Shauna had kissed her, and then she turned to you, one eyebrow raised and you looked between the couple before you let yourself press a kiss to Jackie’s lips. When you had pulled back, you felt Shauna wrap his arms around you and he planted a kiss on your cheek.

Next was Shauna. He looked amazing in the turtleneck and he rocked the flared pants. You thought he looked so handsome and the two of you shared your first real kiss that night. You felt like you were living a dream. You had kissed the two hottest people ever in the same month.

Your outfit was the hardest to make. Jackie took two weeks on just the leather jacket. She outfitted it with pins and the like. It was the coolest thing you had ever worn in your life. The tight black pants were easier on her. She had ripped parts of the pants before she let you try the whole outfit on. You were so thankful you had a pair of Doc Martens before this project and you didn’t have to spend any money on it.

You had walked out of Jackie’s bathroom, your binder had come in and you had put it on under a plain white t-shirt, and your tight fitting pants. You put your leather jacket on after you left the bathroom. The two had cheered for you. They said you looked hot but most importantly was that you looked wickedly handsome.

The three of you had gone to a park. Jackie had done yours and Shauna’s hair before you left. The three of you looked amazing. You had taken photos throughout the project and now it was time for the final pictures.

You took separate pictures of all three of you. Then in pairs and finally in a trio. You made sure to even get photos for yourself, like Shauna and Jackie kissing and then you and Jackie and you and Shauna. It was a proud moment for you. You, your girlfriend and your boyfriend had an amazing day going around the park and around town dressed in your 1970 clothes.

Years later one the walls of your house hung those pictures of kissing. You sat on the couch, a bracelet of brown, pink and black wrapped around your wrists. It had been years since that project, so much so that Jackie had made the old clothes into bracelets.

Jackie was a famous fashion designer, Shauna was a professor of history, and you and Van had started a photography company together.

The three of you lived a happy life. You never could never have wished for a better wife or husband. Jackie would even flaunt you and Shauna off as her handsome arm candy of husbands at fashion shows when the two of you would join her. You would both be in suits, one with a tie matching the colour of Jackie’s outfit and the other with a button up of the same colour as the tie.

You and Shauna had top surgery years ago, and right after you two were healed Jackie had Van take pictures of the three of you in those outfits, with some adjustments now, and those to hang on your walls.

Your life was perfect now. Nothing ever could sour your mood. You had no worries left. It was just the three of you. That project changed your life for the better, and you never forgot it. It always came to your mind when your partners weren’t with you. It was one of your fondest memories ever.

#yellowjackets x reader #jackie taylor #shauna shipman #jackie taylor x reader #shauna shipman x reader #raphs writings

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rocknroll7575 · 10 months

Note

When Winter visits her mother with Jaune as her boyfriend, Willow can't believe that she hooked up with a blonde himbo. Then Tai comes out in just a bathrobe from the kitchen and well, now we know where Winter gets her taste from.

Honestly, I think that be funny and something that she and Winter can bond over while also seeing whose blonde himbo is far better, meanwhile, Jaune and Tai just chilling, grilling, and talking about gardening.

I can also imagine Tai teaching Jaune the way of the dad, aka the bad puns, the fashion, and everything else

#rwby #rwby meme #rwby asks #taiyang xiao long #jaune arc #winter schnee #willow schnee #tai x willow #jaune x winter

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misspoetree · 1 year

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So the lovely @haahka and I were talking about Tay and how it's a bit sad that the fandom only ever seems to send him on shopping tours or focus on his fashion (you guys know that I'm obsessed with the KinnPorsche Fashion myself, but it's just a little...unadventurous, you know).

And then I got waaay to deep into headcanons with the equally lovely @tumsa (I'm not even sorry for the spam 😌❤).

Now, there are two things I want to do: first, I'd love to hear more Tay headcanons - feel free to throw them at me (as an ask, in the tags, added to this post, whatever you prefer). Because I'm really curious. 👀

And second, I'm going to share a few of mine:

Tay is way more capable than anyone thinks. (But no one needs to know that.)

People treat Tay like a princess within the show - I mean, he isn't even allowed to help in the kitchen at Porsche's. But I don't think Tay IS a princess. I think it's a protective façade. Because letting oneself be underestimated is a (survival) strategy in a world of money and constant power struggle, and a smart one at that. Yes, Tay is really good at reading people in general, but I also feel like people tend to let their guard down around him. Because he's kind, and understanding, and compassionate - and he seems harmless, a bit spoiled even. His 'softness' puts people at ease, makes them talk, makes them more honest than they probably should be. He's not a threat after all. I bet he knows a lot of things he shouldn't. I bet he's smart enough to use that knowledge (to help other people, to help himself, if needed). And I bet Tay could be fucking dangerous if he ever chose to (and wouldn't that be exciting 👀).

I also like to think that Tay has a strong survival instinct that goes beyond 'pretending to be incapable'. He and Kinn have been friends for ages, their families know each other, he basically grew up surrounded by mafia. He probably witnessed Tankhun's kidnapping back in the day. The horror and trauma of it. Tay's family is rich. He's close to the Theerapanyakuls. To the future head of the family. But he DOESN'T have an army of bodyguards following him around. And the downside of 'being harmless' is looking like an easy victim. Tay is too smart to be unprepared. So in my headcanon he knows how to handle a crisis, knows how to deal with danger, knows how to survive. Knows how to get out of the country quickly, how to get money without leaving a trail, how to get an unregistered gun. How to land a mean punch even though he hates it, how to apply (good) first aid EVEN THOUGH HE HATES IT. (I do think that he really isn't a fan of physical stuff, so the princess image is not completely off. Or, well, he lets it work in his favour.)

Tay's reaction to being hurt, being really hurt, is to shut his emotions down completely.

I don't enjoy how Tay's often written as dramatic and over-emotional in his confrontations with Time after what happened at Hum Bar. He isn't sober when he catches his boyfriend shoving his tongue down another man's throat, and well, his boyfriend is shoving his tongue down another man's throat. So of course he's fucking angry. And emotional. Right then and there. But the thing is, Tay had time to think, time to cool off in those other confrontations. And that's just the way to describe Tay's demeanor then: cool, cold, like ice. I like to think that he just freezes over. Turns into a statue of neutral disinterest. Just imagine: someone like Tay, always so kind and compassionate, staring you down with an expressionless face, not reacting to anything you say, looking close to fucking bored. Imagine what that would do to Time, always so full of himself, always so used to getting reactions out of Tay. Walking straight into a wall of ice. Completely out of his element. Really forced to put the work in for once. And it truly is hard work to break through to Tay once he closes his feelings off from you. A little bit of grovelling might be necessary. (That said, dealing with his emotions like that isn't good for Tay either. Of course not.)

There's...'something' between Tay and Vegas, some kind of understanding

I never got over TAY asking after Vegas in the final episode. Or the way Tay watches Vegas as he passes him during the auction. So I'm having a lot of fun wondering about the 'relationship' between Tay and Vegas, or how potential interactions could have gone down.

I mean, Tay 'belongs' to Kinn. We know that Vegas wants everything that belongs to Kinn (I bet he thinks Kinn must have fucked a pretty boy like that at least once. Even though it's not his usual type. Why else would he stick around?). Tay's caring and understanding. We know how Vegas can react...to something like that. (Not him falling in love after one free therapy session or something like that.) Tay is really good at reading people, he is really good at reading Kinn. And we know Vegas is not so different from Kinn (in some ways), even though he would murder anyone suggesting something like that to his face. Or maybe that's exactly what Tay does. Telling that to his face. As Vegas tries to seduce him, in the earlier days. But Tay doesn't try to wound him with that, to be cruel or mean, it's just an observation, spoken in that calm and understanding tone of his. And a younger Vegas is so shocked by that statement that he just...stops? And stares at Tay who just keeps going with that warm look in his eyes and those observations that hit a little too close to home until he can't take it anymore and turns on his heel to...definitely NOT run away like a dog with his tail between his legs.

Vegas keeps his distance after that. That princess isn't worth the effort, he tells himself. Or maybe he doesn't. Maybe he stops trying to seduce Tay, yes. But they end up talking again. And again. Because Vegas desperately needs to know what Tay meant with those things he said. And there's just... something about their conversations that keeps Vegas coming back. Until (stealing some thoughts from @tumsa here <3) Tay tries to convince Vegas that the competition between him and Kinn is dumb. Vegas does keep his distance, then.

And Tay gives up trying to help, trying to make him see how futile all of this is because it's clear Vegas won't listen to anyone but his father. But he still cares about Vegas, and seeing all the things Vegas does to himself without realising, seeing that ever-growing self-destructive obsession with Kinn sits like a leaden ball in Tay's stomach. The knowledge that he can't do anything to help is a bit like its own form of torture.

Anyways, (stealing again from @tumsa) Tay definitely ends up going to the hospital to visit Vegas. In secret, of course. And seeing Vegas and Pete together, seeing Vegas being changed by love, seeing him try to be a better person for Pete, putting all this effort in to make it work - maybe all of this forces Tay to reflect on his own love life for once. To reflect on the things he wants. The things he deserves, after all.

Nearly everyone had a crush on Tay, one time or another

You guys know the thing we do with Vegas? Like how VegasPete is the holy grail of endgame ships but it's so much fucking fun to ship Vegas with everyone and to imagine all his possible encounters and escapades? Because he's manipulation, seduction and psychological issues stacked on top of each other and wrapped in a velvet shirt?

Well. I like to do the same thing with Tay. For more or less opposite reasons. Because he's understanding and warm and compassionate and smart (and really pretty). In a world full of violence and trauma and repressed emotions, only sharp edges. I mean, who wouldn't crave the warmth, who wouldn't want to bathe in the sunlight for a while? I'm pretty sure people are falling en masse for Tay. And I think Tay doesn't always know how to handle it. Or genuinely doesn't realise what kind of effect he has on those poor bastards for doing nothing more than showing them a bit of kindness. Or maybe he's simply choosing to ignore it because he only has eyes for one person and one person alone.

Anyways, a lot of fun directions to go with this last headcanon for now. (And I'm keeping it intentionally vague and without examples because otherwise, this would turn into a multichapter fanfic I don't have time to write just now. 🤡)

#it's a bad idea to post this when there's so many other things I should be doing #and I have to go back to work tomorrow #but that hasn't stopped me before has it 🤡#and I had way too much fun writing and thinking about this ngl #(was there infj projection involved in this? maybe. MAYBE IT WAS)#anyways - I'd love to hear and collect some more Tay headcanons <3 #and I leave it to @haahka to share that one headcanon with you that started all of this 😂❤#kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche headcanon #kinnporsche tay #vegas theerapanyakul #timetay #because the kinnporsche brain rot is still real

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