#veronica hastings imagine

[oneshotnewbie]

Can you do one where reader is Veronica's shy girlfriend and reader has a panic attack and veronica comforts her

Authors note: It took me really long to post it & I'm very sorry about it. Hope you like it, nonnie!!

ᕚ---ᕘ

The sun shone through the delicate curtains, bathing the bedroom in a warm, golden light as you stood at the warderobe trying to figure out what to wear to the elegant dinner. Today was a special day - the annual family reunion was coming up. Normally you were excited to see your family again, but this time it was different. This time you were bringing your girlfriend with you, and that was making you increasingly nervous.

Veronica wasn't like the other women you'd dated before. She was more mature, more experienced and almost twenty years older than you. Even though you had fallen in love with the lawyer, you weren't sure how your family, especially your father, would react. They were traditional and conservative, and the idea of you as a daughter dating an older woman would probably be met with very little approval.

With a sigh, you stood up from your spot in the bedroom and began to prepare. You put on a simple but elegant black suit and as you looked at yourself in the mirror and waited for the hair straightener to warm up, you couldn't help the doubt that rose within you. What would your parents think? And your siblings? Would there be an argument?

While you were lost in your thoughts, you didn't even noticed Veronica coming into the room. Only when her hand gently touched your shoulder and she pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek did you return to the present. "Ready for today, darling?"

It didn't take long for her to get a response while placing a hot cup of tea in front of you. "I'm nervous, very nervous." You spoke, leaning back, your head resting on her stomach. "Don't worry, love. We can do this together. I look forward to meeting your family."

You smiled weakly and took a sip of the warm drink before getting to work straightening your hair. Veronica was always so confident and reassuring, even in the most difficult moments. She gave you the courage you needed to get through this day.

After you got ready and took one last look in the mirror to correct yourself, you walked downstairs where your girlfriend was already waiting for you, ready. She grabbed the car keys and together you made your way to your family house. The drive there felt like an eternity and you could feel the nervousness in your stomach as you got closer.

Finally you reached your parents' house and the lawyer parked in front of the driveway. Your heart began to beat faster as you got out of the car and walked with Veronica towards the front door. When you opened the front door, you could already hear the muffled voices of your family inside.

With a deep breath, you entered with your girlfriend and were immediately greeted by your mother, who hugged you with open arms. "It's good to see you again, my child," she said lovingly. You returned the hug, forcing yourself to smile even though your insides were raging with nervousness. Then you turned around and saw your siblings also walking towards you, smiling.

"Y/n!! You're finally here!" your younger sister shouted, taking you into a big hug as well. "And who is this?" She added, pointing to Veronica who was standing behind you.

You swallowed hard and turned to your girlfriend, who was standing quietly behind you, a friendly smile on her lips and a slight air of authority surrounding her. "This is Veronica, my girlfriend." You introduced nervously, searching for her hand, which you quickly found.

There was an awkward silence, followed by curious looks and whispered conversations. You could literally feel the tension building in the room and your heart began to beat even faster than before. But then your mother stepped further forward and smiled warmly at her. "It's nice to meet you, Veronica," she said kindly, holding out her hand.

Veronica returned the smile and shook your mother's hand. "Thank you, it's a pleasure to be here," she replied politely and a sense of relief washed over you when you saw how kindly your mother responded to her. Maybe everything would be okay after all.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The air was heavy with tension as you all gathered at the dinner table. Your parents, your siblings and you. And of course Veronica, your girlfriend, who is now getting to know your family for the first time. She sat next to you, her grip on your hand under the table light, and you could feel her meeting the tension with ease. Just like she had learned as a lawyer.

Your father, a serious man with a sharp look and a stern expression, immediately started asking questions as soon as the food was served. "Veronica, it is? How long have you known each other?" he asked, fixing her with a piercing gaze.

Your girlfriend took a sip of her wine with pleasure as she met him with a smile. "We've known each other for about two years," she replied calmly, squeezing your hand when she felt it start to shake. Your father, on the other hand, frowned as he examined her. "And how exactly did you meet?"

You felt an uncomfortable pressure building up inside you. These questions were not just curious, but had an underlying threat. You knew how strict your father could be, especially when it came to such personal matters.

Veronica paused for a moment before answering him. "We met in court. She was testifying in a murder case, as she was the lead detective on that case. I'm a lawyer, we worked together at the time."

Your brother, who was sitting next to you, looked at her with a skeptical look. You could practically feel him trying to read between the lines, looking for any clue that something was wrong with her. Meanwhile, you felt more and more uncomfortable. The pressure that your family was slowly but surely building seemed to be crushing you. You knew they were worried, but it felt like they were suffocating you in the process.

As your father asked more questions, you felt your breathing become shallower. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest and you could feel a panic attack building up within you. You tried to calm yourself, but the tightness in her chest became more and more intense.

Suddenly you couldn't think straight anymore. Your family's words blurred into a slurred murmur and you felt tears gathering in your eyes. "I... I have to... excuse me for a moment," you mumbled and jumped up before leaving the dining table and walking into the garden.

Your hands were shaking as you leaned against the pillar of the patio, trying to take a deep breath. The sounds from the dining room were muffled, but you could still hear the quiet hum of your family's voices.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself, but the pressure in your chest kept getting stronger. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you fought against the overwhelming feeling. Veronica hurried after you as you stormed out of the dining room and found you sitting on the patio, trying to calm your troubled thoughts. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked softly as she walked over to you and sat down on the stairs.

You sighed as you played with the rings on your fingers, your hands sweaty and shaking. "I'm sorry you have to endure this. I didn't want you to feel like you were being interrogated."

She let out a deep breath and wrapped an arm around your shoulders before pulling you closer to her. "It's okay, after all I didn't become a lawyer for nothing. You don't have to apologize, I'm doing this for you and you know I wanted to meet your family."

You smiled weakly, grateful for her support. "Thank you for being here and doing all this," you said and she squeezed your hand gently, looking deeply into your eyes. "I love you, and I'm sure your parents will like me. They're glad you have a family that cares about you."

You felt somewhat strengthened and determined by Veronica's words. You knew you had to pull yourself together to go back and face the challenge that lay before you. She stood up and held out her hand. You accepted it with a grin and she pulled you up, placing a quick kiss on your lips before heading back into the house, where you prepared to face the stares and questions of your family again.

As you approached the dining table, you noticed your father walking towards you. His expression was still serious, but there was also some relief in his eyes.

“Come here, my child,” he said gently, hugging you tightly. "I'm sorry if I put pressure on you by asking your girlfriend questions. I've been thinking about your relationship with Veronica for a long time, and I have to say, I see more clearly now. She's a remarkable woman, and I see, how happy she makes you."

You were surprised and touched by your father's words. A wave of relief and gratitude washed through you, and you knew that you had finally found the acceptance and support of your family.

With a smile, you turned to Veronica, who was standing next to you, and took her hand. He also turned to the older woman. His look was serious, but also full of recognition. "Veronica," he began, "I hope you take good care of my girl. She means everything to me and I trust you will make her happy."

The person addressed smiled warmly and nodded resolutely. "I'll take good care of her, I promise," she spoke, holding you tightly in her arms, and in that moment you both knew that you would not only take care of yourself, but each other as well, no matter what.

As the family reunion progressed and you both returned to the dinner table, you found yourself becoming more and more relaxed next to Veronica. You laughed with your parents, swapping stories and enjoying each other's company. Despite the initial concerns, everything felt just right.

At the end of the day, as you headed home, Veronica gently placed her hand on your thigh and smiled. "They seem really nice," she remarked quietly as she drove calmly through the streets. You nodded and smiled back, a tired but pleasing smile also reflected on your lips. "Yes, they really are. And I'm so glad you get along with my dad."

And as you enjoyed the sunset together on the way home, you knew that with Veronica by your side, you could do anything - even the family gatherings that were about to happen more often.

[tmlwattpad19]

I Hate Writing Sometimes!

The 1:200 ratio of what I actually write vs what I brainstorm is insanely infuriating.

Like, I have so many story ideas for so many different characters for so many different fandoms, and it is so infuriating when my add/overstimulated brain crosses over from one to the other.

Like, there are soooo many.

To R: Stop being a part of so many universes, please. I beg of you! Take a damn vacation!

Melissa Schemmenti (series/imagines)

Agatha Harkness (series)

Wanda Maximoff (series)

Wanda Maximoff / Regina Mills (series)

Regina Mills (series/imagines)

Rita Castillo (imagine)

Ava Coleman (imagine)

Gloria Mendoza (series)

Olivia Benson (series/imagine)

Olivia Benson / Elliot Stabler (2 series)

Chessy (series/imagine)

Addison Montgomery (series/imagines)

Rachel Green (series)

Monica Geller (series/imagines)

Phoebe Buffay (series)

Phoebe Halliwell (series)

Piper Halliwell (series)

Prue Halliwell (series/imagine)

Spencer Hastings (series)

Veronica Hastings (series/imagines)

Natasha Romanoff (series/imagines)

[sweetie-bri]

*Quietly slips you $20*

How about a caption about a woman who finds out how to grow by disenfranchising money from people and then she finds out how to get money by doing the same to corporations. And then she gets very big by doing the same thing to governments?

Upward Mobility [Giantess Growth Caption Commision]

Despite the process being BAFFLINGLY simple, Veronica was an airhead and requested myriad re-explanations of how her new implants worked. The scientists had perfected explaining it in 2 sentences for her as they awaited the dreaded 7-word sentence.

"So... What did you do to me exactly?"

"Imagine that inside of your body is a bunch of little house guests! These guests are powered by *money* in *this* bank account to make more of themselves. Now, since they're polite house guests, they dress up the exact same as your normal body, so they become more of *you!*

"So... The implants eat money and... become more of me?" There was no chance anyone could explain to Veronica the currency gas-cycling e-mechanism so... they just nodded. Veronica was overjoyed! "Then I'm going to get *all* money!"

On impulse she immediately pumped the account full of her entire savings. $60,000. pulsed through her veins and her body began slowly inflating her feminine curves. She didn't mind at all that her underwear was all that remained of her cute outfit as she continued to ascend, eventually totaling about 12 centimeters taller. The height looked good on her, and the scientists were relieved the job was well done. After much of what Veronica probably thinks is contemplative thought. The epiphany dawned on her, realizing how small-time she was being.

Veronica left out for bank after bank post-hast. Not even bothering to change clothes. She had credit as a notorious impulse purchaser, so many banks were dying to put a credit card in the girl's hands. She signed any contract that gave her a 6-figure credit limit. She must have felt like a genius when she pumped 12 maxed credit cards into her body. $1.2 million dollars.

Her body trembled, but not painfully as she struggled to maintain footing. No clothes fit her figure anymore, but she wanted to see her results anyways. It wasn't stopping. Watching her veins swell, her muscles tense, her curves explode. It was exhilarating! Eventually finalizing with her being over 12 feet tall! But 4+ meters wasn't enough for her! She had another of her "good ideas."

"I bet supermarkets and stuff have money!" The eager giantess streaked from building to building. Unsurprisingly. It was a giant woman screaming "GIVE ME ALL YOUR MONEY" worked to great effect and she was raking in thousands more. Veronica was *juuust* smart enough to know that items cost money, too. So, she was quick to snag expensive goods and make it off like a literal bandit. As the cash flowed in, her growth was exponential.

She began with a few centimeters, then grew meters and now was growing tens of meters. Once she hit 100 feet tall, the milestone put an excited pit in her stomach, she wanted more... But she'd looted most every convenient place... "Who has the *most* money?" The titan knew just who to ask.

She knocked on window after window until she found someone who claimed to be a CEO. The mass hysteria and her total ignorance that the police were trying to arrest her was endearing if anything. Veronica was looking for sponsorships. She would sign any contract that would give her cash up front. As afraid as these shrewd businesspeople were, they were more excited by the possibility of *not dying.* Millions of dollars were given to this newfound giantess. Veronica was so excited! She had no concept of how much money was a lot, but she knew her "house guests" would be happy.

Bigger, BIGGER. The ground was so far away that it was often blotted by clouds. Roads couldn't fit one of her feet. No scientist imagined that Veronica could get a hundred million dollars as quickly as she did. The only place left to ask, wasn't too far. Not that anything was far away from her anymore. Veronica collapsing on her knees in front of the buildings sent a huge rumbling earthquake through the capital. She stooped low enough that her huge face wasn't obscured by the sun anymore.

"Hey... You guys *make* the money, right?" She asked the entirety of the federal reserve at once. Rumbling the building with her voice. "Can I make a withdrawal? All of it?"

Reasons to Tip Sweetie-Bri 1.) She loves positive reinforcement. 2.) It's fast, it's easy and it's free. 3.) She- Wait, isn't 2 like... 3 reasons?

[the-yandere-cryptid]

tbh I know next to nothing about Horvath, but would love to hear some of your general headcanons!

DELIGHTFUL.

Idk why, of all the Molina stuff I've watched, Horvath is my favorite character. Is it the slick fashion sense? The selfsure confidence? The raw sexual energy? Who knows but I would love to share my headcanons with you, dear anon.

Maxim Horvath/Reader Headcanons:

♠️ Can be a backstabbing snake, or can be fiercely loyal. The more interesting your game is, the more likely he is to follow your lead.

♠️ Given that he's over 1300 years old and has traveled the world, he's pretty well versed in the art of seduction. ♠️ Likes dancing. Will only ever admit it if you bring it up first. ♠️ His favorite thing in the world is you falling asleep on him. Despite himself he can hardly relax with you close, but when you're passed out, vulnerable and entrusting yourself in his care, it melts him.

♠️ His Love Language: Gift Giving. Calling Maxim emotionally stunted would be an understatement. He prefers showering you in gifts, ranging from expensive clothes and jewelry to buying you a fancy coffee and breakfast every. Single. Morning. Will attempt to settle any issues you might have with chocolate/flowers/etc. ♠️"What do people like these days? Phones? I got you one of your fancy phones." / "Maxim I already have a phone." / "Well now you have two." ♠️ Any relationship with him is sure to be tumultuous. He would never admit to it but the incident with Veronica and Balthazar still stings him even 1300 years later. There's a reason he never pursued another relationship seriously, and even if he decides it's time to move on with you that doesn't mean his inferiority complex disappears. ♠️ Expect to see his controlling nature in full force. Any time he can justify spending with you, he will. Potential suitors are taken out of your life and with haste. He's already lost the game of love once, he refuses to go through it again. NSFT below the cut:

♠️ THIS. MAN. IS. KINKY! You would think because he's been in holding for the last 100 or so years you would need to explain new age fetishes to him but he'll just "Oh yeah I did that once at a fuck party in 1479. Not my thing really tbh."

♠️ 100% Unwavering dom. He's a control freak, and while he definitely fantasizes about handing over the reigns in the bedroom, trust issues make it almost certain it'll never happen.

♠️ Favorite Kinks: Corruption, Sadomasochism, Humiliation, Master/Slave Dynamics, & Gags/Drool

♠️ When you introduce him to the modern world of porn, he finds himself drawn to erotica. Lets him utilize his imagination a little more.

♠️ Not the best with aftercare, at least not until your very close. The more affectionate he grows with you, the more willing he'll be to stay in bed after sex instead of wander over to the window, his desk, wherever he escapes to after the frightening experience of intimacy.

[neon-vocalist]

get what you deserve - c.2

Eight days later, Heather hasn't heard from Veronica whatsoever.

It's starting to worry her. Has Jason put her in the hospital? Killed her? Cut off her contact to the outside world? Not knowing is driving her insane. Imagining Veronica helplessly at the mercy of a sociopath... she can't get her mind off it.

Tear him limb from limb...

Her fantasies have started getting bloodier and bloodier. She can't help it. The urge to protect Veronica surges through her veins. Even just the sight of Jason's cocky little face makes her thirst for pain. Never Veronica. No one hurts Veronica.

She does her best to keep her mind away from the idea of Veronica, beaten and bloody, thrown carelessly to the wall of an alleyway. She's taken up hobbies; poetry and weaving and swimming fill her days. She's almost never home anymore, there's simply too much to do, and she'd much rather be beating her time record for a 50 yard free than idling at home on the couch. It's a small miracle that she's there to answer the door when Veronica knocks.

This time, her clothing doesn't look as bad. There isn't any dust or bloodstains on her shirt this time, and her hair isn't tangled at the ends. However, looks can be deceiving, and somehow Heather can tell: this time it's worse.

Veronica wastes no time throwing her arms around Heather and sobbing into her shoulder. "Oh-" Heather awkwardly picks up Veronica, making as much use of her two inches of height difference as she can. "Hey, hey, what happened?" she asks worriedly, taking the younger girl to the same couch they were on a week ago. Her eye is mostly cleared now and her nose looks... fine? Less bloody for sure.

"Don't hold me like that," Veronica murmurs.

"Oh." Heather immediately gets off the couch. She doesn't want to- she'd be completely happy to stay with Veronica, skin on cold skin- but her friend comes before herself, no matter how badly she'd like to be with her.

"I didn't mean don't hold me," Veronica says, exasperated. "Just don't do it like that." She gingerly turns over, rubbing at her eyes, and weasels down into the space between Heather and the back of the couch, leaving her legs awkwardly tilted on top of Heather's, which is not lost on her friend.

"Are your legs okay?" she asks. Veronica avoids her eyes. Heather sighs, gently getting off the couch and kneeling down to look at them. "Can I?" she asks, hands hovering over Veronica's loose pants. She just nods, so Heather adds "This might hurt just a little" before ever so carefully sliding her pant leg up over her knee.

Do. Not. Make. This. Sexual. The internal stern mother is almost unnecessary when Heather actually sees the damage. She draws in a sharp, quick breath.

"What happened?" she whispers.

"I don't know," Veronica replies, her eyes filling with fresh tears. "Well, I do know, I just... I don't know. I was in shock. I tried not to look at it, and it didn't hurt, but it stings... really bad..."

"Okay. Okay, it's gonna be okay. I'm gonna get you a cold, wet towel to put over that, and we're gonna deal with it as it comes. Can you stay here tonight?" Veronica shakes her head. "Of course you can't. Alright. Don't go anywhere."

As if she could, with the massive burn on her leg. Heather runs off into the upstairs bathroom to grab some aloe and soak a towel in ice water. Something tells her that putting straight ice on that wouldn't go so well. It's not that it's particularly bloody or blistered, but a huge part of the front of Veronica's lower leg is angrily red and peeling. It looks like it hurts. She can almost imagine the Goth Psycho laughing while he inflicted it.

As Heather sprints around the upstairs hallways, it dawns on her that she hasn't run this fast since the mile in sixth grade. Ah, the things we do for love. "Come on... where's the frickin' aloe?" Eventually she climbs onto the counter and starts rifling through the cabinets in the laundry room. "No... no... there we go." In her haste to get the little green bottle, she accidentally knocks four others onto the floor, one of which breaks and spills all over everything. "Zut!"

"Everything okay up there?" Veronica asks, her voice thick with pain.

"Good! Yep, everything's fine!" Running on pure fever dream adrenaline, Heather quickly wipes up the spilled rubbing alcohol and flies back down the stairs to her friend. "Right here." She kneels in front of the couch and starts gently rubbing the aloe into Veronica's leg. She hisses as Heather makes contact with the tender skin but exhales slowly when the cooling gel kicks in.

"Thank you," Veronica says, staring into Heather's eyes and hoping she can pick up on everything she's not saying. I love you. I've always loved you. I'd leave him if I could.

"It's no problem," Heather replies, giving a microscopic nod. I love you too. As Veronica's eyes overfill with tears yet again, Heather simply holds her, letting her lie limp over her shoulder and cry her broken heart out.

"I should go," she eventually says, stretching out her aching legs. "Thank you for everything."

"Anytime," Heather replies, fighting the urge to pull Veronica to her and never let her go.

"Well, bye."

"Bye." A small, sad smile stretches across Heather's face. "Stay safe."

"I'll try."

"Do more than try."

This time, Veronica doesn't agree, closing the front door behind her with a click and starting the long, rainy walk back.

The two miles from Heather's house to Jason's don't seem like that much until Veronica's walking them with one of her legs essentially out of commission. Her hand drifts down to her pocket. Maybe... could she? It's worth a shot. She pauses under a bus stop and dials her boyfriend.

"Hello there, my love," comes his familiar voice. Veronica resists the urge to chuck her phone into the street. "Are you okay?"

Genuine concern peeks through the deadpan of JD's tone. This is not your ally. Veronica takes a deep breath. "I'm alright, I'm just a little lost. I really wanted to spend time with you tonight," she improvises, laying the sweetness on thick, "but it's cold and raining and I'm really tired. I don't think I'll make it back to your- I mean, back home." The realisation hits her as soon as she finishes her sentence. JD's house isn't home to her. Heather's is. She's not going back home, she just left it. "So I was wondering if maybe you'd be alright with me crashing at Heather's?"

"Heather Chandler?" he asks, voice darkening. "Ronnie-"

"Not Heather Chandler," Veronica quickly replies, texting Heather Mac at the same time with shaking hands. If Jason calls, tell him I'm at your place. "Heather McNamara."

Jason sighs and Veronica can hear his scowl over the phone. "Fine. I expect you home by tomorrow though. I love you."

"I love you too," Veronica says, forcing out each syllable. "Jason?"

"Yeah?"

"Record the next episode of the Big Bang Theory for me?"

"You nerd," he says playfully. "Of course. Bye."

"Bye." Slumping against the back of the wet bench, Veronica calls up Heather Mac, who answers nearly instantly. Thank God.

"Are you okay?" Heather asks. A baby screams in the background. "Sorry, that's Sadie, she's angry."

Veronica laughs. "It's completely alright. I'm okay. I just... if my boyfriend calls or texts you, tell him I'm at your place. Please."

"Why? Why would you be at my house?"

"I'm going to Chandler's. It's cold and it's getting dark and I can't make it all the way home, but Jason won't let me stay with her. I told him I'd be with you. I know you hate to lie, but I don't-" I don't want him to hurt me even more.

Heather only thinks for a second before agreeing. Obviously Veronica needs this. She wouldn't just call her out of nowhere to ask her to lie to her boyfriend, would she? No. This must be important. It's cold and it's getting dark... "Of course I will. Is that all you needed?"

"Yes," Veronica says with a relieved sigh. "Thank you so much. You're an angel."

"Anytime." Another baby scream from Sadie punctuates Heather's affirmation. "I need to go tend to the child."

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Have a good night and tell Riley and Sadie I love them."

Veronica's words finally fully sink in and Heather's breath catches in her throat. But Jason won't let me stay with her. She fakes a smile to try and sound as positive as she always does, quickly hanging up with a peppy "Will do!"

Veronica pockets her phone and runs faster than she probably should be running towards Heather's house. Every car that comes up behind her makes her heart stop with the fear that Jason found out and is coming to get her. Every shadow makes her mind speed up.

By the time she reaches Heather's door, she's even more of a wreck than she was the first time. She tripped in her frenzy and her hand is still bleeding, her leg pulsing angrily with her heartbeat. She leans against the door for a few seconds before knocking, just to catch her breath, and it takes a second to register that the high-pitched wheezes ringing through the air are coming from her chest.

"Vera!" Heather shouts, opening the door. A startled Veronica goes crashing to the floor. "Crap! I am so sorry. Oh my God." She hurriedly helps her friend up, running her hands quickly up and down her body to make sure nothing's broken before coming to rest beneath her chin. "Are you okay?" She takes Veronica's hands and gently turns them over. "Oh, zut, you're bleeding."

"I know," Veronica whispers back with a shaky breath, trying to calm the sounds she's making so it stops seeming like Heather's hitting a very small dog.

"Does it hurt?"

"I honestly couldn't tell you," Veronica murmurs, flexing and unflexing her fingers. She's sort of captivated by the blood trailing down her palms. "Probably."

"You sound way too calm," Heather observes as she heads into the kitchen to get some bandages. "What are you doing back here? Isn't- well, isn't Jason gonna be mad?"

"He thinks I'm at McNamara's," Veronica replies mildly, still bending her fingers into strange positions. "He or she or both may text you later tonight. It's fine. I've never lied to him before. It's sort of fun."

"Who are you and what have you done with Veronica Sawyer?" Heather asks with a little laugh, gently wrapping Veronica's hand and wiping away the excess blood. "I'm kidding. I'm glad you're standing up for yourself." Before she can chicken out, she takes Veronica's other hand lightly in hers and kisses her on the forehead before leading her to the couch and turning on the TV. "If you're only here for tonight, we're making the most of it. Popcorn?"

"Sure," says Veronica, still riding the high of escaping her boyfriend, even for one night. She'll have to go back tomorrow, but... she can burn that bridge when she gets to it. Burn. Her eyes go immediately to her bandaged leg. It's like it didn't hurt until she thought about it hurting, but now the pain is vengeful and inescapable. She takes a few breaths to calm down, pulls back the bandage, and screams.

"What is it? What happened?" Heather comes running back into the room faster than either of them knew she could go. "Oh, Jesus Christ, that looks... oh God." What was she getting? What should she be doing? She doesn't know. All she can do is stare at the blistered mess. Veronica takes a panicked breath and screams again, wrenching Heather's eyes back to her friend.

She covers her eyes with her hands and digs her nails into the sides of her cheeks and forehead. "Hey," Heather says softly, wrapping her hand around Veronica's and using the other to gently straighten and relax her fingers. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay." Veronica opens her mouth to scream again and, thinking quickly and probably stupidly, Heather sticks her finger in it. Veronica confusedly bites down and her eyes slowly open.

"Uh..." she hesitates for a second, her eyes flicking from Heather's hand to her eyes. "What are you doing?"

Heather blushes and tries to remove the finger, but Veronica has it trapped between her teeth. "Um... I didn't know what else to do... I figured it would shut you up and I mean, I was right."

"I suppose you're correct," Veronica replies around Heather's fingertip. "Are you gonna..?"

"I can't, I'm stuck."

"Oh! Oh. Sorry." Veronica opens her mouth enough for Heather to take her finger out of it and tries to look down at her legs and messy clothes. Heather gently takes hold of her chin and tilts it upward, forcing Veronica to look at the ceiling.

"Ah, ah, ah. No looksies. I'm gonna go get you a fresher towel. And we're gonna have to disinfect that, so I can either go for the alcohol or the hydrogen peroxide. I'll give you something to bite on that isn't an appendage of mine, but it is gonna hurt a little. I'm sorry."

Terror instantly flickers across Veronica's expression, but she bites her lip and nods for Heather to go ahead. "Any preference?" Heather asks. "One hurts bad for a few seconds and then calms down, and one hurts less bad for a while and is also gonna tickle."

"Oh, God," Veronica murmurs, analysing the cracks in the ceiling. Who wants to pick which way they'll experience even more pain? "Uh... go with the alcohol, I guess."

"You sure?" Heather asks, pausing at the end of the couch.

"I'm sure," Veronica says, taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, fiddling with the bandage around her palm.

"I'll be right back," Heather promises. "Don't do anything stupid." She gives Veronica a quick kiss on the forehead and heads back to the laundry room only to be faced with broken glass. Right. "Hey, Vera my love?"

Wait. Crap. Did I really just do that? "I mean- uh- I dropped the bottle of alcohol and it broke. I'm sorry."

"Okay. It's alright." Veronica pushes the 'my love' out of her mind. So what if she sees Heather as her home and her heart? So what if everything lights on fire when Heather's hand touches hers? So what if the stupid little nickname she gave Veronica makes her smile like a fool? She can't have her. She can't even have herself with JD around. And she can't get rid of him or he'll...

He'll kill me. Veronica knows this to be true the second the words even come to mind. The look in his eyes when he hits and hurts her doesn't hold a speck of remorse. The quiet words he whispers to her feel more like threats than endearments. You're mine, he'd say. And no matter what, you still will be.

Jason Dean would have no qualms about killing her.

The thought sends a chill down her spine.

"This is a fine kettle of fish," she murmurs to herself, silent tears falling down her cheeks. She doesn't care about the pain anymore. It's become a constant. But the knowledge that she's really and truly stuck feels like a million stones weighing down every inch of her body. It's the bowling ball in her lap again, but it's all over her, and all she can do is stare at the dark spots appearing and spreading on the couch, splaying out into strange snowflake shapes. The second realisation hits her almost as quickly as the first.

The one person she can't have is the only person she wants. Her boyfriend hates her best friend and she's pretty sure the feeling is mutual. Even being at Heather's house can get Veronica in trouble. It's not fair.

"It's never been fair," Heather says with a sad smile. "That's just how the world works."

"Jesus Christ!" Veronica yelps, sitting upright and meeting Heather's eyes. "I didn't mean to say that... out loud."

"I figured."

"Um... how long have you been there?"

"Long enough," Heather replies, moving closer to Veronica and kneeling by the couch, lifting her leg up and sliding a towel under it to protect the cushions. "Straighten your leg. This is going to hurt." She pauses for a second, uncapping the bottle. "Are you ready?"

"Okay," Veronica replies, taking a deep breath.

"Here's my hand," Heather says, carefully lacing her fingers into Veronica's. "Don't hesitate to break my fingers."

"Okay," Veronica repeats.

"I'm gonna count down so you expect it."

"Okay."

"Three... two... one." Veronica's eyes pop open as the hydrogen peroxide makes contact with her skin. "Hey!" Heather yells. "Keep that leg down, you're gonna slosh it all over the floor." She puts the hand that Veronica isn't digging her nails into on her ankle. "It's okay. You're good."

"I'm good," Veronica whispers breathlessly. "Holy hell, that hurts."

"I know. You did great."

"Thank you."

"Anytime. Can I have my hand back, please?" Veronica and Heather both glance down at their intertwined fingers, Veronica's white knuckles looking about ready to burst out of her skin. She doesn't reply, only pulls her fingers free one by one, and though she did ask for it, Heather pouts at the absence of warmth.

Well, either that or the absence of Veronica.

"How long do I have to leave this on?" Veronica asks after a while. This is something that Heather doesn't know, and she can't very well look it up right now, so the best thing to do is clearly to make it up on the spot.

"Uh, you can probably take it off now, let me just-" she gently folds the sides of the towel up over Veronica's shin and pats it dry. "There," she whispers softly, barely even making a sound. She gives Veronica a quick once-over and, satisfied with her appearance and carefully so as not to hurt Veronica, goes to sit birdlike on the back of the couch. "Do you need anything?" she asks from her perch.

"Stay with me," Veronica pleads, not even looking up at Heather in slight humiliation. This having to be cared for is new. She's not sure if she likes it. And if she was only stronger, she'd be out of the situation. If she only had the guts to stand up and leave...

"Always," Heather promises, cutting off her internal spiral. "No matter what. Hey. Look at me." Veronica forces herself to meet Heather's greenish-blue ones. "Good. You can trust me, okay? You can always come to me. I'm always here for you. Always. I'm never leaving, Veronica, no matter how hard you try to push me away. I'll take care of you forever if you'll only let me."

Veronica's eyes widen in stunned silence and Heather instantly regrets her words. She frantically tries to backtrack. "Uh, um, I mean... not in a, like, well, I- I mean, not like that. I'm not- you're not- well, I mean, I don't want-"

"You don't want me," Veronica says, her voice completely devoid of emotion as she finishes Heather's sentence. "Is that right?"

"Well, that's not what I was gonna say."

"What were you gonna say, then, Heather? What?"

"I- well-" Suddenly I don't want to date you isn't looking any more positive. Heather sighs. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Sure you didn't," Veronica replies, leaning heavily on one shoulder to turn off the lamp behind her. "How did you mean it, then?"

Heather makes a solid attempt to turn the conversation away from her screw-up. "I could have gotten-"

A stone-cold voice interrupts her before she can even finish her fourth word, and it's almost more scary than if Veronica was screaming and insulting her. She sounds... empty. Like Heather's comment, or maybe the entire night, completely drained her of any emotion. "I got it, okay? I got it. The lamp is off, okay? Jesus, you act like I can't do anything myself." Veronica scoffs. "You probably think I'm as worthless and cowardly as everyone else."

"I don't think that," Heather desperately assures her, grasping at straws to rebuild the bridge between Veronica and herself. "I think you're-"

"I don't want to hear it," Veronica says. "And for the record, I don't want you either." She pulls the towel from under her leg and throws it in Heather's general direction. "Good night."

"Listen, I'm sorry," Heather whispers. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"You weren't," Veronica replies, even more annoyed than before Heather opened her mouth again. "I need you to- no. Never mind. I can do it myself."

"What do you need?"

"I leave in the morning." With that, Veronica turns over to face the wall. Heather stands by the end of the couch, staring helplessly at her. God, I really messed up.

That one thought follows Heather up the stairs and into her bed. What made her think that was a good idea? Would she rather have had Veronica thinking she loved or hated her? And worse, what if she never came back?

It doesn't take long for Veronica to drift off to sleep, but it's not a peaceful one. Her leg hurts. Her head hurts. Everything aches, whether physical or mental, and sleep feels more like a begrudging distraction than a welcome relief. Her mind won't leave her alone. No one likes you. She thinks you're stupid. She thinks you're helpless. She thinks you're a burden.

This is what happens when you get your hopes up.

[breedsmisery]

lets talk about how spencer hastings is literally monica trying to steal rachel's mother

[sunnys-rewatch-blog]

S1, E12

"Salt Meets Wound"

TW: Unalive mention

I fucking hope I can get through Emily's coming out. I might need to be un-sober for this. I altered my mental state to watch this episode and I'm still dwelling on my coming out now.

Veronica Hastings might just have enough redeemable qualities. At least she sometimes uses her Karen powers for good.

"Please don't say things like that with my parents, they won't laugh"- Emily, she's not making the joke with your parents. She's making it with you.

Am I supposed to think Noel is a bad guy in this situation for blackmailing Ezra? Like...you realize this is more than a reasonable trade-off? This is literally one essay for a class that will not matter outside of the school year. Giving him an "A" isn't signing off on his references to Harvard, you aren't signing over your family fortune to the kid. Yeah, I'm sure it feels like shit to be under some kid's thumb, but I don't know how I'm supposed to feel sorry for someone who started a relationship with one of his students, for the reason of "make her fall in love with me so she'll tell me about Alison." Stop whining or eat shit, Ezra.

The Fields are having both seafood and pot roast to meet Maya. This dinner had to cost, like, $40-$50 easy, just for Pam to mope around and try to find things not to like about Maya. Does this woman not realize that maybe, just maybe, some things are not about you? Oh, I know she gets over it, but I wonder if what happens in the later seasons was some kind of wish fulfillment from here.

Lucas was drunk before he showed up to Hanna's party. The writers really slept on this guy, he could have been the perfect fucking villain and they just looked right past him and said "Nah, we're just gonna do the 'separated at birth for no real reason' again."

Putting Toby on house arrest...not so sure they have enough evidence to do that. I thought you had to be convicted of something to get that, but there's a good likelihood I'm wrong. I don't even think they have enough on him to call him a suspect, not if Brian Laundrie was only considered a "person of interest" in the Gabby Petito case for the entire time he was missing. I don't really want there to be a whole fuckload of focus on the legal process though, because at the end of the day the legal process is not going to find us our culprit.

This "blood on the sweater" thing means absolutely nothing in terms of guilt/culpability. There's a thousand ways her blood ends up on that sweater and none of them mean the person who owned the sweater killed her- namely that she was bleeding at some point while she was wearing it. If she had bled on her own clothes, would they have assumed she kill*d h*rs*lf? Now, if Toby was wearing it, that would be a different story.

But I'm not even sure this blood was properly confirmed to be Alison's, so what do I care? They couldn't even identify her body. I'm not sure what might happen to a bloodstain over the course of a year but I would imagine it would be difficult to get a certain reading- double difficult if the person you're comparing it with is in dry decay and no longer has blood. I don't know how they would match this up (*that doesn't mean there is no way, just that I don't know about it).

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 55 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Thanksgiving went on for 17 million years. (AKA 5 Chapters) We laughed, we cried (did we cry? I don’t think we cried – except for Adore maybe), we fucked on some stairs until our knees gave out...

This Chapter: Pearl makes a getaway, Raven carbs up, and Violet returns to work with help from a very special assistant.

***

“Pearl! Pearl, wake up!”

Pearl stirred, a hand shaking her, and opened her eyes. Fame was leaning over her, a sleep mask pushed up on her forehead, a frantic expression in her eyes.

It had been a long night. When Pearl arrived at the townhouse, they’d at down and had a long heart to heart, Pearl tearfully confessing the whole sordid tale of her and Adore over tea and leftover cranberry apple crisp, Fame even going the extra mile and topping it with an uncharacteristic scoop of ice cream--she must really have seemed pathetic. Pearl told her everything, and while Fame was understanding, she didn’t hold back or let her off the hook either, pointing out where she thought she’d fucked up, how she could have done better, and why Adore was justified in her hurt and anger. It was difficult to hear at times, but Pearl appreciated her honesty. Most of all, she appreciated that Fame stayed to listen, giving her the space to talk it out, sometimes resting a hand on her thigh just to let her know that she was still there.

After that, cried out and emotionally exhausted, they’d climbed into Fame’s bed to snuggle and watch TV, Pearl’s eyelids soon drooping heavily. When Patrick got home, Pearl had offered to leave, of course, but he saw how tired she was and insisted she stay, Fame sleeping in the middle of the bed.

Now, it was morning and Fame was apparently in a tizzy over something. Pearl rubbed her eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“The chef’s idiot assistant let in my in-laws without asking. I have no idea why they’re here so early, we clearly said brunch was at noon!” Fame fretted, Patrick buttoning his shirt in the background.

Pearl tried to catch up. “The chef?”

“Oh my god, what are we going to do?!” Fame explained, hands pressed to her cheeks.

“She could go out the window…” Patrick joked.

“Yes!” Fame turned back to Pearl. “Get dressed, you’re going out the window.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Pearl asked. “That’s dangerous!”

“Use the trellis!”

“Darling, I was kidding,” Patrick said gently.

“Well, I’m not!” Fame snapped her fingers. “Where are her pants?”

Patrick handed over Pearl’s skinny jeans, shaking his head. “Can’t we just say that one of your employees came for an early meeting?”

“Oh yeah Patrick, an early meeting on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Here in our bedroom. Sounds totally respectable. I can’t believe this, we’re never using chef John again! Pearl, hurry up.” She got up and walked to the window that overlooked the backyard, unlocking it and opening it wide.

“Was he supposed to let them just wait on the front stoop?”

“Patrick,” Fame said sternly, in that tone that told them both that she was not fucking around. “If you’re not going to offer any other solutions, you can just go downstairs and entertain your stupid family.”

“I’m gonna let that one slide,” Patrick said as he walked to the door. “And Pearl, godspeed. Try to avoid the rose bushes if you fall.”

“So, is this your way of telling me that I’m not staying for brunch with the fam?” Pearl asked, putting on her jacket and slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder.

“Pearl.” That same tone again, entirely unamused.

Pearl stepped up to her at the window, looking out. The good news was, there was a high cement wall that would likely break her fall before the ground. Worst case scenario, she’d break a bone...or two.

“This is the first time I’ve done anything like this since high school,” she giggled, then reached out and touched Fame’s hand. “Thanks for last night.”

“Of course,” Fame replied, softening for a moment, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss on the mouth. “Anytime.”

“Anytime except right now, you mean?”

“Exactly,” Fame said, helping her climb onto the window ledge and over to the trellis. “Once you get down to the garden, make sure to go around that way,” she pointed, “And duck when you pass the windows.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

***

“Now,” Juju took the dinosaur tray from the counter, handing it to her son, his pancakes carefully cut up, “take it slow when-” Juju was cut off as Owen grabbed the tray, practically spinning around in his haste to make it back to the family room. “Hey! I said take it slow young man!”

It was a Sanderson family tradition to spend the Saturday after Thanksgiving with pajamas, pancakes and TV, and even though Kelly had gotten too old to join, their teenager leaving the house almost as soon as they had made it back from Boston, Juju knew with absolute certainty that she’d find a toddler under each of her husband's arms, time with dad something the twins valued above anything else.

“They grow up so fast.” Raven smiled, her best friend sitting at the kitchen counter in a set of soft pink silk pajamas, twirling a bit of hair around her finger.

“Don’t even say it,” Juju sighed, cutting up the last of the fruit so she could make Raven a plate too. “It feels like we just left the hospital.”

“You’ll have another little one soon.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Juju smirked, and Raven laughed, taking the offered assortment of fruit that Juju handed her, but then, something crazy happened. Raven grabbed two pancakes too, putting them on her plate.

“Hey girly, what’re you doing?” Juju didn’t normally care about Raven’s diets--actually, she tried not to be involved in them at all whenever she could, but she had already spotted her best friend putting creamer in her coffee. Juju worked in fashion as well, several houses and magazines using her on shoots, but she didn’t think she’d ever really understand the sacrifices models went through. Sure, it was part of their job to go to the gym, but she didn’t think she’d ever be able to do it, even though Raja had made it seem effortlessly easy when she had been in her prime. “I know Sutan isn’t here, but I don’t believe the warden has relaxed the rules that much.”

“Well.” Raven looked uncharacteristically insecure for a moment, crossing her arms. “I’ve decided I’m done doing swimwear.”

“Oh?” Juju knew Raven had campaigns coming up in December, her friend complaining about it the last time they saw each other.

“Yes.” Raven nodded. “I’m done. It’s not worth the money, when it’s killing me to stay in runway shape year round.”

“Okay.” Juju nodded, sort of understanding where Raven was coming from. When she wasn’t walking fashion weeks where everyone had to fit sample sizes, the industry loved her curves, Raven smoking hot when she allowed herself to get to a size 4 or even a 6, which was a much more accurate representation of what her body actually looked like. “And Tan is cool with it?”

Somehow, it worked for Raven to have her fiancée’s brother as a manager, but Juju knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would have killed Detox if he ever tried to make decisions on her career, even the idea of Raja, Fame, heck, even Bianca moving in on her turf making her genuinely uncomfortable.

“I…” Raven clicked her tongue. “Might not have told him yet.”

***

“Urgh,” Sutan groaned as he flopped on the couch, face first, a white t-shirt clinging to his chest. “Fuck.”

“Hello,” Violet was biting her lip in an effort not to smile, her boyfriend absolutely exhausted, his duffle bag thrown somewhere on the floor. “Did you have a nice time at the gym?”

They had been in the middle of breakfast, Violet making her way through a coconut yogurt when Sutan had gotten a call, his eyes widening to an almost comical size when he recognized the number, the horror on his face telling the clear story of how he had completely forgotten.

“My trainer is an absolute sadist.”

“Mmh?” Violet had never seen him move so fast, Sutan drowning his coffee in one big gulp, barely pressing a kiss against her temple before he had rushed out the door, grabbing what was apparently an emergency gym bag from the hallway closet.

“He made me do 25 extra sets of everything for being late. Can you believe I’m paying someone to torture me?” Sutan toed his shoes off, winching at the movement as he got on his back, putting his head on her thigh, his hair still slightly damp. “I thought I was going to die.”

Violet had wondered why Sutan had never let her be around when he went to the gym, the man only going on nights or mornings when they weren’t spending time together.

Now, it seemed like she had her answer.

“Poor you.” Violet smiled, running her fingers over his forehead, the TV playing quietly in the background.

“I know you don’t mean that,” Sutan looked up at her, “but I’ll take it.”

“You know,” Violet bit her lip not to yawn, the smallest of efforts almost taking her out, putting their breakfast away and getting to the couch feeling like enormous tasks. “I’m going to be so jealous once I’m off my pain killers.”

Violet tried not to think too hard about what a broken bone actually meant, not being able to run or even do yoga to manage her emotions a complete nightmare.

“Seriously?” Sutan lifted an eyebrow, and Violet ran a finger over it. “When I was 23, you couldn’t force me to go to the gym.” Sutan smiled. “Not that Raja’s model diet made it necessary.”

“You were on a model diet?”

“Beat having to cook for myself.” Sutan grinned, and Violet could totally imagine it, the Amrull twins chugging their way through green smoothies side by side.

“How long did you actually live with Raja?”

“Literal decades,” Sutan snorted. “God I’m ancient.”

“I like to think of you as finely aged wine.”

“HA!” Sutan laughed, and Violet couldn’t help but smile. She loved watching him laugh, loved seeing his face scrunch up with happiness. “For that lovely eyes,” Sutan pointed up at her. “You get to stay another week.”

“Oh…” Violet paused, “I, umh, I didn’t…” She had felt so happy just moments before, but now, she could feel the uncertainty crawl up her spine. “We never actually talked about… You don’t have to do-”

It wasn’t like her at all, but Violet had simply not considered the week to come, hadn’t even thought about where she would be staying, what she would be wearing, what she’d be doing with herself beyond believing Sutan when he said he’d get her to work Monday.

“Violet.” Sutan reached up, grabbing her neck, his fingers easily holding her. “You live on the 5th floor with no elevator.”

“And I appreciate your help, but I’d never want to-”

“You’re staying here. No argument. I’d be a terrible boyfriend, fuck, I’d be a terrible friend, if I wasn’t cool with you staying here.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Sutan nodded. “Besides,” He pulled on Violet’s neck, forcing her down so he could press a kiss against her lips. “I like having you around.”

Sutan smirked, and Violet couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks.”

***

“Where do you think you’re going?” Katya was whispering as she looked over at her fiancé. She and Trixie were in the movies, Annabelle playing on the screen.

“I have to pee, I had an extra large soda.”

Katya placed her hand on Trixie’s chest, pushing him down into the seat, keeping him in place. “No.”

“What?!” Trixie hissed.

“I said no.”

And in that moment Trixie saw how Katya was smiling, and he felt a surge of arousal go through him.

“Okay…”

Trixie leaned back in his chair, Katya’s hand on his chest ending up on his stomach where it rested, keeping him in place.

Trixie couldn’t help but squirm, arousal and the need to pee getting mixed up in his head, a heavy sensation settling over his entire body, his fingers drumming on the seat, restless energy filling him as the movie continued.

“Katya, please…” Tixie hissed, the stupid movie not even halfway done. “I’m about to explode.”

“No.”

Katya smiled, picking up her drink, her lips closing around the straw as she oh so slowly drank the rest of her own small soda, the sound causing chills to run over Trixie’s spine.

Katya held him in seat through the credits, and Trixie had tears in his eyes, he had to pee so badly, but Katya had told him he couldn’t, so he wouldn’t, because he was her good boy.

The very last name ran over the screen, and Katya removed her hand, Trixie shooting up from his seat, his jacket and even his bag forgotten as he ran to the bathroom, a sense of euphoria rushing over him as he could finally, finally, finally pee, his entire body shivering in delight.

***

When Bob heard the design floor door open, he instantly perked up, whirling around in his chair.

“Well well well!” he exclaimed, yelling out to the floor, his oversized coffee mug in hand, a pencil tucked behind her ear. “Look who’s back!”

“Hi everyone,” Violet came through the door, a happy but unsure smile on her face. It was clear that she wanted to wave, but she was stuck with her crutches, a bulgy cast on her ankle.

Violet looked over her shoulder, and Bob felt his eyes bulge out as none other than silver fox of the year, Sutan Amrull, came through the door in an impeccable suit, Violet’s purse and what had to be both of their jackets on his arm.

“I knew it!” Bob cried out, slapping his desk with his hand. “I knew those two were dating! No lipstick my ass!”

He looked around triumphantly, everyone's attention now divided between Bob and the pair at the door, Sutan looking on with a raised eyebrow and a smile on his lips, while Violet seemed like she was wishing that the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

“Good work, Sherlock.” Jovan drawled, his head in his hand as he was sitting backwards on his chair. “How’d you figure that one out?”

“Well you see-” Bob grinned, just about to go on a tangent, when he was cut off by his boyfriend, Maxwell leaning against his desk.

“I literally told you they were dating a fucking week ago.”

“Right.” Bob huffed. “But you’re always wrong about this stuff.”

Sure. Max had told him that about the whole Violet falling thing, the drama with Aiden the talk of the department, but he hadn’t actually believed it when Max had said he had seen Sutan Amrull press a kiss against Violet’s temple, the two of them apparently leaving together.

“Are your coworkers always this much fun?”

Bob’s head whipped at the sound of Sutan’s voice, the man smiling as he looked down at Violet, one of his hands in his suit pocket.

“Don’t answer that Chachki!” Jovan yelled out, making everyone laugh. “Just come on over here!”

Violet looked extremely relieved to be called for, and Sutan followed behind her as she swung herself across the room on her crutches-- No hobbling for that bitch.

“Man, look at you go!” Bob grinned, walking over to Jovan and Violet’s desks, his own work completely abandoned. “It’s like you’ve been using those things all your life!”

“Thanks Bob,” Violet replied drily, even though she was smiling. She looked a lot better than he expected, her hair and makeup done to her usual perfect standards, curls cascading down her back. She was wearing a long sleeved black dress with a high-waisted skirt, and even a heel on her good foot, Violet Chachki as always picture perfect.

“I cannot believe you’re wearing heels with crutches. You’re an icon, and we should all aspire to your standards.”

“You’d fail.”

“Ha!” Jovan snorted, the man giving Violet’s shoulder a quick squeeze before he returned to his computer.

“Besides.” Violet pulled out her chair, sitting down with as much grace as she could muster, shaking her head disdainfully. “It’s only 2 inches.”

“I promise you,” Sutan smiled, putting Violet’s bag down on the table. “I tried to tell her it was a terrible idea.”

“Good to know.” Bob bit his cheek not to give too much away, but on the inside, he was dancing with delight at all the delicious gossip he was gobbling up. “Hi, Bob Caldwell.” Bob held his hand out, nearly shrinking on the inside when Sutan took it. “Design Project Manager.”

“Sutan Amrull,” Sutan smiled, shaking it firmly. “Elite Model Management, though around here I’m probably better known as Raja’s brother. I assume you know her very well.”

“We sure do.” If Bob was honest, he had forgotten that Maxwell had followed him over, but what he wouldn’t forget was the ridiculous grin on his boyfriend's face as he shook hands with Sutan. “I’m Maxwell Heller. Designer.”

“I’m familiar with your work.” Sutan grinned, pulling back to take a seat on the edge of Violet’s desk and Bob wiggled his eyebrows at Max, who nudged his elbow into his side.

“What do you have there, lovely eyes?”

Bob’s eyes widened in delight as Violet looked up like she had fully forgotten they were all still there, her embroidery frame already in hand, the massive skirt she was working on tethered to it.

“The dress.” Violet smiled, the worry Bob had seen on her face when she first walked in all gone now that her work was safely back in her hands. “The couture one.”

“This is your couture dress? Let me see.” Sutan reached into his jacket pocket, taking out a pair of glasses that he quickly slipped on before he carefully picked at the skirt, taking a section that was already done, examining the work. “This is very impressive.”

“Did you hear she’s closing the Spring runway?” Bob grinned, the morning only getting better and better.

“Well,” Sutan pushed his glasses into his hair, a big smile on his face, “with a gown like this, how could she not?”

“And that’s enough for you!” Violet reached out, her cheeks pink as she took the dress from his hands, her tone stern even though she was smiling. “Thank you for fulfilling your duties as a full time boyfriend by carrying my stuff. You can leave now.”

“Boyfriend?” Maxwell squeaked, and this time, it was Bob’s turn to nudge him.

“Am I a little too old for that title?” Sutan smirked, looking between them.

“Well,” Violet interjected, her tone completely dry. “You can be my man friend if you’d prefer?”

“Ha!” Sutan snorted, a grin on his face. “And I think that’s my cue to go. I’ll text you.” He leaned over the desk, giving Violet a quick peck on the lips before standing up, shaking hands with Max and Bob and waving to Jovan as he grabbed his jacket and left.

“Damn Chachki,” Bob watched as Sutan left, his arms crossed over his chest. “We gotta hand it to you. That is one sexy fucking man.”

“Umh…” Violet paused, looking up at them, her embroidery needle already in hand. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.”

***

“Morning, Jackie!” Sutan waved, stopping in the assistant bullpen to check if he had gotten any physical mail. Jackie was a new girl, had originally only started out as a temp, but she had done a shockingly good job, so Elite had officially hired her a few weeks ago.

Sutan didn’t have his own personal assistant, and had never had one even though he was sure Tamisha would give him one if he asked.

“How was your Thanksgiving?”

“Great, thanks.” Jackie smiled, her brown bang swept across her forehead. She was wearing a green and yellow sweater, her nails painted in a deep orange.

Sutan loved Jackie's style, the woman always dressed like she was living in the 60s, but his favorite thing was that she was cool, calm and collected under pressure, and unlike the baby temps, she was a woman in her late 30s who hadn’t just taken the job in the hopes of becoming a model.

“Also,” Jackie lowered her voice, leaning over the desk. “Ms. Petruschin is waiting for you in your office.”

“Hmm?” Sutan raised an eyebrow. He had an open door policy, and everyone was always welcome, but usually, they were welcome when he was actually there. He hadn’t stopped for coffee after dropping Violet off at work, and now, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had made a mistake.

“She didn’t want to wait at reception, so I let her in.”

“Ah.” Sutan nodded. That sounded just about right for Raven. “Don’t worry about it. You did the right thing.”

Sutan walked over to his office, not even trying his key in the door since he knew it’d be unlocked.

“Raven!” Sutan put on his best game face, his voice light and happy. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence?”

Raven looked up from where she was sitting-- not sprawled on the couch where she’d normally be, but at a chair in front of his desk, spine ramrod straight, her Birkin carefully placed on the floor.

“... Everything okay?” Sutan shut the door behind him, quickly flicking the lock. Normally when he had his models come by, he’d take a seat behind his desk, but today, that didn’t seem like the right option, so instead, he sat on the corner of the table, looking down at his sister in law. “Raven?”

“I,” Raven bit her lip, her white teeth sinking into it. “I have something to tell you.”

“Okay?” Sutan kept his voice level, doing everything he could not to let his worry show on his face. The last time Raven had come to him like this, it had been with an absolute disaster involving several talks with a lawyer, but Raja hadn’t said anything, hadn’t given him any hints or sent a single text, so it couldn’t be that bad.

“So,” Raven took a deep breath, lifting her chin as she looked directly at him. “I don’t want to do swimwear anymore.”

“.... Okay?”

“It’s not worth it, and I hate it.”

Out of everything Sutan had dreaded. Of all the things that had flashed through his mind. This was not what he had expected at all.

“Well, that’s not a problem.”

“You’re not mad?” Raven’s eyes widened, surprise and anxiety painted on her beautiful face.

It was clear that Raven had expected him to be disappointed, or even upset, and Sutan couldn’t help but remember the inexperienced young girl he’d signed at only 17 years old.

It had been a long time since he’d been reminded of that, the Raven of today much more likely to slam a door or yell in his face, but the tough act had always been and would always be a facade to hide her obvious vulnerability.

Other agents had sometimes asked how he dealt with her, how he could remain calm in the storm of Raven’s emotions, but he had always felt responsible for her well being, and had always felt protective of her.

“Raven.” Sutan crossed his arms. “It’s your career. Your body. Your decisions. How I feel, and how the brand feels doesn’t matter if you hating it is your genuine emotion.”

Raven nodded, swallowing, and Sutan could see that it wasn’t an easy decision for her.

“As your agent, it’s my responsibility to make sure that you stick to your commitments, but cancellation fees exist for a reason.”

At that, Raven winced, two cancellation fees taking a hefty chunk out of her next paycheck, half of the money going to the brand while the other would end up in Sutan’s pocket but she didn’t protest, sticking to her decision, and that was when he knew she was serious, that she had thought it through.

“Rave,” Sutan reached out, touching her shoulder. “We’re okay.”

At that, a smile finally cracked through, a relieved sigh coming from her. “Good.”

“You know,” Sutan pushed up from the desk, walking around it. “We just got the potential for a Clinique campaign.” Sutan picked up the sales pitch he had received, Clinique sending over a courier with the products they wanted to focus on, Raven being one of their top five picks for the campaign.

“Clinique?”

“I wasn’t going to offer it to you because it conflicted with your December shoots, so I’ve been pulling alts for them, but now, it seems like we can say yes.”

“They pay well, don’t they?”

“That they do,” Sutan had to hide a smile at Raven’s obvious enthusiasm. “You haven’t filmed any commercials in a while, and I know you generally avoid speaking.”

To say that would be an understatement, a director once telling teenage Raven that he couldn’t understand her because of her Russian accent. Raven had gone directly to a speech therapist after that, even though Sutan had found it completely unnecessary, the director just a bigoted jerk.

“Consider it.” Sutan handed her the pitch. “You’d be absolutely fabulous.”

“Maybe,” Raven smirked, “if the offers are lucrative enough to be worth my time.” She tossed her long dark hair over one shoulder, and Sutan grinned.

That was the girl he knew and loved.

“Only the very best, top tier gigs for you.”

“Exactly,” Raven laughed, standing up, the pitch still in hand as she cleared her throat. “Well, guess I’m off.”

“Off to celebrate with some bonus desserts?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing.” Sutan smirked. “Just remember that you’re still a model.”

“Yeah, yeah yeah, stop yapping,” Raven said, her sass fully back as she sailed out the door with a flurry of air kisses.

“Leave it open!” Sutan sat down at his desk, his plans for the day suddenly shifted around. First of all, he’d have to call up the magazine who had booked the shoots and break the news that Raven wouldn’t be available.

It’d require some smooth talk, but it was what he did best.

The real challenge of the day was convincing them to switch to another model, and hopefully, a model that resided under his own wing.

Sutan pressed the button that called for Jackie, the woman showing up before he had even opened his computer. She really was incredible at the job.

“You called?”

“I need the best possible portfolio we can make for Symone, and I need it stat.”

***

“Oh dear god…” Fame covered her eyes with her hands. “Please tell me that this has been handled, Raja, I cannot-”

“Of course it’s been handled. Trixie let Aiden go on Tuesday, and Rita took care of everything with the hospital. We’re making an attorney available to Violet if she wants to press charges.”

“Do you think she will?” Fame asked, concern creasing her brow. “That’s the last thing we-”

“Listen. We obviously can’t do anything to dissuade her, or we face an even bigger liability.”

“I know that, Raja,” Fame snapped.

“-But, my guess is that she’ll want to wash her hands of the whole thing, certainly not become embroiled in a lawsuit.”

“Right. Right…” Fame sighed. “And we’ve covering all medical costs, taxis, whatever she needs right?”

“Of course. It’s a worker’s comp thing now, so everything’s covered by insurance.”

“Good. I should probably send her something, too. Flowers, maybe. Or a little spa treatment?”

“That would be nice, I’m sure she’d appreciate it. She’s staying with Tan if you want to-”

“Courtney!” Fame called out, pausing for a few moments before shaking her head. “I swear, that girl left her head at home today. Courtney!”

***

Courtney was obsessing again, reading her last text exchange with Bianca for about the 75th time since Friday.

COURTNEY: Have a good flight! <3

BIANCA: Thx! See you next week. XX

It was so mundane, so trite, and Courtney found herself cringing inwardly every time she looked at it, wishing she’d said something deeper or smarter or more sophisticated. And the “see you next week” - did that imply that Bianca didn’t want to talk to her while she was away? It certainly sounded like it. But Courtney wanted to send her another message, wanted desperately to let her know that she was still thinking about her.

She’d been racking her brain for something, anything, to say. She could ask her a question about their upcoming meeting at Marie Claire on Friday, but something told Courtney that would be transparent and dumb, and in no way sexy anyway. What she was really thinking about, nearly constantly, was if she’d ever get to feel Bianca’s hands on her again, the heat of her mouth, the press of her perfect body. That she was ready to sell her soul for one more night together, one more exhilarating night...

But she couldn’t very well say that. She didn’t want to appear needy or crazy, even if that’s how she felt. What she’d said to Adore was tragically true: the ball was entirely in Bianca’s court. And if she was done, if she didn’t intend to see her again except at work-related events or casual encounters, then that was something Courtney would just have to live with.

The one source of hope that Courtney had, maybe a false one, was the way Bianca had kissed her goodbye. Soft and tender, cradling her face, a kiss that promised more.

Even if she’d made no such promise out loud.

Even if Courtney was an absolute idiot for thinking that’s what it meant.

“Courtney!”

Her head snapped up, realizing with a sinking feeling that Miss Fame had called her name multiple times. Shit. She grabbed her notepad and jumped up.

“Coming Miss!”

***

[constant-creative-chaos]

Fandoms I’ll write for and how to request them

Bold - Personal Favorites

Supernatural

Dean Winchester - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Sam Winchester - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Castiel - Platonic, Sibling

Jack Kline - Platonic, Sister, Romantic

Gabriel - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Charlie - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic (female reader )

Jo - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Ellen - Platonic, Child

Bobby - Platonic, Child

Claire - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

The Walking Dead 

Rick Grimes - Platonic, Child, Sibling, Romantic

Glenn Rhee - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

T-Dog - Platonic, Sibling

Shane Walsh - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Michonne - Platonic, Sibling, Child, Romantic

Maggie Greene - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Beth Greene - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic 

Tara Chamlber - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic (female reader)

Rosita - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Abraham - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Noah - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Daryl Dixon - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Carl Grimes - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Carol - Platonic, Child

Andrea - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Negan - Plationic, Child

Enid - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Jesus - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic (male reader)

The 100

Bellamy Blake - Plationic, Sibling, Romantic

Clarke Griffin - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

John Murphy - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Raven Reyes - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Wells Jaha - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Finn - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Octavia Blake - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Abby Griffin - Platonic, Sibling

Jasper Jorden - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Monty Green - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Marcus Kane - Platonic, Child

Lexa - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Indra - Platonic, Sibling

Anya - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Echo - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Lincoln - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Harry Potter

Harry Potter - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Hermione Granger - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Ron Weasley - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Cedric Diggory - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Draco Malfoy - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Fred Weasley - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

George Weasley - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Percy Weasley - Platonic, Sibling

Bill Weasley - Platonic, Sibling

Charlie Weasley - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Ginny Weasley - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Young!Sirius Black - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Young!Remus Lupin - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Young!James Potter - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Young!Lily Evens - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Sirius Black - Platonic, Sibling, Child, Romantic

James Potter - Platonic, Sibling, Child, Romantic

Remus Lupin - Platonic, Sibling, Child, Romantic

Lily Evens - Platonic, Sibling, Child, Romantic

Minerva Mcgonagall - Platonic, Child

Marvel

Peter Parker - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Natasha Romanoff - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Tony Stark - Platonic, Child,

Steve Rogers - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Bucky Barnes - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Wanda Maximoff - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Shuri - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

T’Challa - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Carol Danvers - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Loki Laufeyson - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Riverdale

Jughead Jones - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Betty Cooper - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Archie Andrews - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Veronica Lodge - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Cheryl Blossom - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic (female reader)

Toni Topaz - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Sweet pea - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Fangs - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic (male reader)

Kevin Keller - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic (male reader)

FP Jones - Platonic, Child

Fred Andrews - Platonic, Child

Chilling Adventures Of Sabrina

Sabrina Spellman - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Ambrose Spellman - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Nicolas Scratch - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Prudence - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Dorcas - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Agatha - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Harvey Kinkle - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Roz - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Theo - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic (male reader)

Caliban - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Zelda Spellman - Platonic, Child

Hilda Spellman - Platonic, Child

A Series Of Unfortunate Events

Klaus Baudelaire - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Violet Baudelaire - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Duncan Quagmire - Platonic, Sibling

Isodora Quagmire - Platonic, Sibling

Montgomery Montgomery - Platonic, Child

Kit Snicket - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Hunger Games

Katniss Everdeen - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Peeta Mellark - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Gale Hawthorne - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Finnick Odair - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Primrose Everdeen - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Haymitch - Platonic, Child

Effie Trinket - Platonic

Pretty Little Liars

Toby Cavvanah - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Caleb - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Ezra Fitz - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Maya - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic (female reader)

Emily Fields - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic (female reader)

Aria Montgomery - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Spencer Hastings - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Hanna Marin - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Alison Dilaurentis - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Shadow Hunters

Alec Lightwood - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic (Male Reader)

Jace Herondale - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Isabelle Lightwood - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Clary Fray - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Magnus Bane - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Simon - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

The Vampire Diaries

Damon Salvatore - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Stefan Salvatore - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Katherine Peirce - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Bonnie Bennett - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Caroline Forbes - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Jeremy Gilbert - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Tyler Lockwood - Platonic, Sibling

Klaus Mikealson - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Elijah Mikealson - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Rebekah Mikealson - Platonic, Sibling

Kol Mikealson - Platonic, Sibling

Marcel - Platonic, Sibling

Kai Parker - Platonic, Sibling

Alaric Saltzman - Platonic, Child

IT

Young!Bill Denbrough - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Young!Richie Tozier - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic (Male Reader)

Young!Beverly Marsh - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Young!Eddie Kaspbrack - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Young!Stanley Uris - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Young!Mike Hanlon - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Young!Ben Hanscom - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Bill Denbrough - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Richie Tozier - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic (Male Reader)

Beverly Marsh - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Eddie Kaspbrack - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Stanley Uris - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Mike Hanlon - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Ben Hanscom - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

The Haunting Of Hill House

Young!Steve Craine - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Young!Shirley Craine - Platonic, Sibling 

Young!Theo Craine - Platonic, Sibling

Young!Luke Craine - Platonic, Sibling

Young!Nell Craine - Platonic, Sibling

Steve Craine - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Shirley Craine - Platonic, Sibling

Theo Craine - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic (Female Reader)

Luke Craine - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Nell Craine - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Hugh Craine - Platonic, Sibling, Child 

Olivia Craine - Platonic, Sibling, Child

The Good Place

Tahani - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Chidi - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Eleanor - Platonic, Sibling, Romantic

Jason - Platonic, Sibling  

How to request

For a oneshot:

Leave an ask or message me with the character(s) you want, your pronouns (he/him, she/her, they/them, etc), the plot, the relationship between you and the characters, the ages, and any other character relationships! For oneshots and imagines I’ll only use Y/N.

Example - one shot, Cedric Diggory, They/Them, Cedric helps them study in the library and they end up getting detention for being out after curfew, Romantic (pre established), reader is a 5th year hufflepuff, Cedric is the same age, no extra character relationships!

For Imagines:

Again, leave an ask or message me with the character(s) and plot.

Example - imagine, Dean teasing you about your crush on Charlie!

For headcannons:

Leave an ask or message me with the character(s) and the scenario!!

Example - headcannon, growing up with Alec and Isabelle

For preferences:

Message me or leave an ask with the fandom and the scenario!! Even if the characters aren’t listed above I’ll add them to the preference!!

Example - Preferences, Marvel, your first date.

For mood boards:

Leave a message or an ask with the character(s)/fandom and the scenario!!

Example - Mood board, Being the Co-leader of The 100 with Bellamy and Clarke

For Playlists:

Leave a message or an ask with the character/characters/relationship/setting/scenario/etc and I’ll create a playlist for you! You can add a preference for genre of music but I can’t promise that the playlist will be entirely that genre.

Example - Playlist for fighting walkers with the prison group (Classic rock or alternative please!)

(you can also ask for a playlist for one of my fics!)

Rules for requests:

I will NOT write any r*pe or s*xual assault scenarios, I can do someone making someone else uncomfortable but nothing beyond that!!

I will NOT write and something that involves pedophilia either, age gap is fine though!

I MIGHT write smut

I am happy to write queer relationships, I can use they/them pronouns, and polyamory is welcome!! If you use neo pronouns, I can use those too!

I will always be able to deny requests

If it says male/female/enby reader, I will NOT write a requited romantic scenario with a gender besides the mentioned one

If it doesn’t have a specific gender at the end I will write romantic scenarios with any gender 

[duplicitywrites]

Hello, could you tell us more about Heathers AU (Damaged)? I really liked the first chapter and would love to hear more about it :-)

okay a long while ago @top7879 was playing 'heathers: the musical' songs on voice chat in my discord server and that was what got me to finally listen to the soundtrack.

cue me going on a spiral while i bingewatched youtube videos and listened to the soundtrack for like an entire month. AND I KNOW most people have seen that really cool fanart of tomarry with the lyrics from "dead girl walking (reprise)" and IT ALL MADE SENSE. FINALLY IT ALL MADE SO MUCH SENSE.

so i decided i had to write an AU of it because it was just too good not to. i love musicals so much gkdvdbkddbnd and this one is so amazing.

obviously tom isn't exactly JD and harry isn't exactly veronica; the motivations are different and so i am gonna take a few liberties with the plot. i haven't decided if i want to go with the original canon ending, either. so there is wiggle room for some deviations for sure.

for this harry, he's not looking for a protector the way veronica sort of was—he doesn't romanticize who tom is. instead, he's drawn to it. tom's coldness as a coping method is something harry has never been able to manage. when harry looks at tom, he sees the strength he wishes he had.

when tom looks at harry... is it cliche to say he feels hope? harry is something good in the world, someone to protect.

i imagine they can be kindred spirits, both misfits unaccepted by their family members. harry can live with tom's darker tendencies because he understands the pain behind them.

anyways thank you for the ask, honestly you dragged me right back into the mindset for this story so you will probably see a new chapter in a short while. in the meantime... have a snippet:

“Should have kept your head down.”

Harry nearly smacked his forehead into his locker in his haste to close it. “I’m sorry, what?”

New Kid was standing a pace away, hands in his pockets, bland expression on his face. “You don’t need to cater to them. It makes you weak. You’re better than they are. Prove it to them.”

The conflicting statements danced around in Harry’s head. Was he being insulted?

New Kid was already leaving, evidently finished talking now that he had said his piece.

“Hey,” Harry said, irritated, slamming his locker shut and taking a few steps forward. “You don’t get to just judge my life choices and walk away like that. I didn’t even catch your name.”

A smirk and a sideways glance over the shoulder. “I didn’t throw it.”

Harry was speechless. He watched the retreating form of the trenchcoat, frustration was burning in his chest. Not only frustration at his fixation, but frustration at himself for being drawn to it.

Whatever. If this guy didn’t want to share his name, fine. Harry didn’t need to know it.

[oneshotnewbie]

REQUEST ;

Are you okay with doing a Veronica Hastings x 20 something female reader one shot, where even though they are in a relationship , the reader is shy and scared to talk or tell Veronica things because Veronica has a very dominant personality. So when Veronica figures this out from someone else, maybe Spencer, she goes and confronts the reader about it ( in a concerned type of why) so Veronica decides to show her how much she loves her and it gets spicy. I know you don’t write smut, so however far you are comfortable with taking it is fine with me.

Love you and no pressure whatsoever to get this done❤️

Authors note: Here's the first part of the story. Don't worry, the second part will be uploaded in five minutes right after this one! ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

Veronica Hastings and Spencer sat at dinner together, the dining table was finely set as the warm light from the ceiling lamp bathed the room in a cozy and inviting atmosphere and the gentle clinking of dishes and cutlery filled the quiet silence. The older one turned the pages of her files while, experienced in the nuances of life, she occasionally looked at her daughter with loving eyes.

The smells of freshly prepared food enveloped the two woman, but the anticipation of dinner and the quiet moment was accompanied by the seriousness and tension of a difficult case that the older woman had just landed. The experienced lawyer had been handling a particularly difficult case and it was obvious that she could not wait to share her thoughts with her daughter, who still young and so full of curiosity, looked at her mother impatiently, waiting to hear what she was thinking.

"Is the case really that difficult?" she asked with a gentle tone, her eyes curiously glued to the white paper, hoping to decipher something overhead.

Veronica sighed slightly and began to describe her impressions of the challenging case. "Complicated litigation that raises many ethical and legal questions," she explained with passionate conviction, and the brunette listened intently as her mother laid out the details that had occupied her mind throughout the day. “My client claims that the company BioGenesis used her genetic data to develop medication without her consent.”

“And what does the company think about that?” the younger brunette asked, taking a sip from her glass. As they worked on their plates together, the conversation developed deeper and Spencer listened intently to her mother, letting her mind wander further about the case.

"The defendant denies the allegations and maintains that my client gave tacit consent. My client never expressly consented to her genetic data being used for research.” she answered bluntly, surprised by her daughter's pointed questions to get a better understanding of the matter. For Spencer it was a fascinating insight into the world of law. "But she participated in several clinical trials without objecting to the use of her data. She provided all the necessary consent forms without reading the fine print."

As the conversation about the case progresses, it becomes clear to Spencer why you were so afraid to tell your girlfriend some of the things that were occupying your thoughts. Her mother had a strong and dominant personality and spoke with a wide range of conviction and confidence that influenced some people to be afraid of her.

"Mom, I admire you for your determination and commitment to justice, but now I know why y/n is afraid to talk to you about certain things and tends to come to me instead," spoke the younger brunette carefully, and dropped the fork back on the plate to fully delve into the topic. Even before you started dating her mother and showed up as just a friend, she had taken you into her heart and treated you like a full member of the family.

Spencer had watched her mother slowly but surely fall for you, and she was happy about it, which is why she hated watching you hide things from her that you should normally discuss openly with her. But she knew from the start that it was not your fault but rather Veronica's personality that made you shy away.

"Spencer, what do you mean by that?" she had now received her mother´s full attention as the lawyer closed her files and pushed them far to the side. With an not entirely understanding look, she cocked her head to the side and smiled, but it was more of a thoughtful than a sincere smile. Despite her intelligence, she did not know exactly how to understand the sentence, which had left Spencer´s mouth.

"Well, in the position of a lawyer, you sometimes forget to put aside your dominant personality at home. That does not mean that you are not empathetic or compassionate towards y/n, but sometimes you scare her just a little bit."

Her eyes were wide and she suddenly seemed agitated and slightly shocked by the last bit of the sentence. She puts her hand to her forehead and rubs her wrinkles as if trying to organize her thoughts. Her expression holds disbelief. Focusing on one object, she stares at the steaming coffee that had caught her attention.

“I never really realized it.” Veronica watched the steam rising from her cup before burying her face in her hands, shaking her head agitatedly. "How long have you known?" she added the direct question to her previous sentence. Raising her head only slowly and distractedly, Veronica looked directly into her daughter's eyes, but her expression remained stone.

"A few months. We have-"

"And you never told me anything about it? You know how important it is to me to do everything right with her so that I can hopefully have her by my side forever," the brunette said sadly, feeling upset that Spencer had not informed her right away. The younger one nodded ashamedly, feeling guilty for not saying anything. She simply did not want to interfere in her mother's relationship, knowing that it was never the right solution. "I am sorry, Mom. I did not want to-"

"Interfering? I know, do not worry. I am not mad at you, I am just afraid I will lose her if I do not show her that she does not have to be afraid of me if something bothers her and that she can talk to me."

[tmlwattpad19]

Another “currently thing”… I think I’m gonna make these a series. Anyway…

Currently thinking about writing a story/series about Veronica Hastings x Reader, where reader has had a crush on Mrs. Hastings since high school. They don’t do anything until the friends are graduated from college…

I don’t even want to elaborate anymore because I think it will spoil my ideas but…

Let me know what y’all think. Any additional information/concerns/comments/brainstorming ideas.

[agelessrp]

so today's the day we release our first preview - member groups! on los ageless, our member groups are based on old hollywood films. we don't expect every character to perfectly fit into the member group and in fact yours might have characteristics of several groups. just choose the group that most meets their personality and aesthetic. we put some handy character parallels to help you make the choice and if you're still torn, feel free to contact a member of staff to help you decide! we recommend you view the groups on the blog itself instead of the dashboard since tumblr's coding isn't playing nicely with us and won't seem to show everything. ♡

A STAR IS BORN #60A5b2 expressive / moody / romantic / highly strung

smiling through tears, unsent love letters, a heartfelt ballad, oversized sweaters, late night phone calls, a face that gives everything away, the patter of raindrops on glass windows, passionate kisses lingering on your neck, diary entries tucked away, picking at scars until they bleed again, acoustic guitar melodies, stargazing with a lover, checking horoscopes everyday PARALLELS: stefan salvatore, lara jean covey, lucas scott, buffy summers, randall pearson, adena el-amin, paula proctor, magnus bane, romeo montague, norma bates, david rose

BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S #D48FB1 aloof / magnetic / charming / flirtatious

cat-eyed sunglasses, all black outfits, tinder on tap, dancing all night, coffee on fire escapes, never settling and always moving, months old clothes with the tag still on, a startling smile, smooth pick-up lines, bare feet in the morning, red lipstick smudged on a takeaway coffee cup, unfinished books, the touch of crushed velvet, soft pillows, late night gossip sessions PARALLELS: serena van der woodsen, ambrose spellman, veronica lodge, dionne davenport, peter kavinsky, joey tribbiani, jordan baker, rafael solano, nick young, maggie vera, cher horowitz

REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE #C33F4A defiant / passionate / loyal / careless

leather jackets and doc martens, messy hair, the smell of a bonfire, protesting until your voice is hoarse, drunken tattoos, sharp red nails and a sharper tongue, neon signs lighting up the night, the sound of the ocean during a storm, empty beer bottles, old record players, everything is a competition, easy laughter amongst friends, emotions control everything PARALLELS: eleanor shellstrop, han solo, nakia, steven hyde, katniss everdeen, archie andrews, tim riggins, kat edison, diego hargreeves, maia roberts

ROMAN HOLIDAY #79AF79 adventurous / optimistic / generous / overly sensitive

an overflowing passport, reading a worn out classic on the train, untouched made beds, salty hair and sun-soaked skin, vespa rides down the coast, giving away your last penny to charity, running at dawn, always believing the best will happen, late night drives, the echo of a contagious giggle, the smell of freshly cut grass, the mom friend, summer days at the beach PARALLELS: piper halliwell, scott mccall, bilbo baggins, theo putnam, caroline forbes, jake peralta, chris traegar, joyce byers, moira strand, phil dunphy

THE GODFATHER #925192 mysterious / explosive / clever / unpredictable

impeccable suits, the smoke from a cigarette, frown creases, holes in walls, perfectly thought out plans, dingy dive bars, silent glares, stacks of books hidden away, street smarts, a cross necklace hanging between their collarbones, clenched fists, pretending to be fine, street smarts, dark academia, boiling hot summer days in the city, an energy that you can't pin down, always seeking revenge PARALLELS: ryan atwood, faith lehane, damon salvatore, erik killmonger, henry winter, jen harding, daenerys targaryen, annalise keating, katherine pierce, rosa diaz

SUNSET BOULEVARD #D18556 dramatic / deceptive / resourceful / egocentric

smashed crystal vases, faux fur coats, a perfectly organized home, silk pyjamas, lying with ease, overflowing champagne, a dream always in sight, spa appointments, afternoon migraines, expensive cologne and perfume, bubble baths, fingers dipped in gold, knowing what you want and getting there, rose gold everything, perfectly styled hair, every entrance is a performance PARALLELS: blair waldorf, jackie burkhart, isabelle lightwood, regina george, harry bingham, littlefinger, beth boland, titus andromedon, apollo, sophia burset, moira rose

WIZARD OF OZ #D4C153 imaginative / eccentric / naive / brave

flower crowns and daisy chains, fairy lights strewn across a room, creating a whole world in your head, believing the wildest of stories, cheeks flushed pink, kill them with kindness, freshly baked muffins, the easy splatter of paint on a canvas, bursts of unexpected intelligence, bubbly laughs and bright smiles, bright colors painted on walls, surprising moments of bravery, living a simple life PARALLELS: luna lovegood, kira yikimura, simon lewis, phoebe buffay, elle woods, judy hale, kimmy schmidt, jane villanueva, willow rosenberg, klaus hargreeves, lando calrissian, dustin henderson

WEST SIDE STORY #547294 intelligent / caring / disciplined / leader-like

matching tattoos with friends, organised chaos, a band of misfits, a commanding and loud voice, chatter at a dinner party, knowledge held between shaking fingers, white flags, deep meaningful conversations, an overcrowded house, quiet moments tucked away, seasons changing, light academia, standing up for everyone but yourself, competitive PARALLELS: remus lupin, spencer hastings, t'challa, raymond holt, jon snow, annabeth chase, allison argent, alex romero, luke garroway, athena grant, bonnie bennett, spencer james

[screamingintosilence]

A/N: I started this at 8am this morning all because I saw the Dior Homme ad with Robert Pattinson and Camille Rowe in the elevator and felt compelled to write this as a Bughead drabble. I have no regrets. Sorry I didn’t finish sooner, I actually had to do work so I don’t get fired, oops.

She had been unsuccessfully trying to ignore the hormones coursing through her body for weeks now. 

He was her boss, after all. Not only that, he was founder and CEO of the entirety of Triple S Enterprises, while she was merely his personal assistant.

It didn't help that he was deliciously gorgeous - mid-thirties, all dark, brooding looks, silky tresses that she wanted to sink her fingers into as she held his head between her thighs, a toned, lean body that she dreamed of licking whipped cream off of. 

Down girl, she chidded herself. It was far too early in the morning to be getting so worked up, especially when she had yet to even face her boss.

Betty made her way through the crowd of bustling workers in the main lobby that were vying to get into the main bank of elevators leading to the upper floors of the skyscraper. 

She thanked her lucky stars that if she had to do office work instead of her dream job of investigative journalism (thank you very much post-grad New York job market), at least she was able to land working directly for a bigwig that had the finances to lease a private elevator for his upper level staff and their assistants.

“Ms. Cooper,” a deep gravelly voice greeted her as she passed the guard station by said elevator. Gerald “Tall Boy” Petite tipped his uniform hat to her as he did every weekday morning.

“Hi Jerry!” She beamed back as he blushed. Betty was the only person besides his wife allowed to call him that because no one was immune to her Betty Cooper charm. Well, except him, she thought bitterly as her mind once again turned to the image of her boss’s devilishly handsome face.

“Boss man hasn't been in yet, ma'am,” Tall Boy - as he was referred to by nearly everyone else - informed her as she continued on toward the elevator.

“That's fine, thanks Jerry.”

She hummed to herself as the elevator doors opened, running through her mental list of things she needed to get done today and what was on the agenda for her boss as well.

While she would rather spend her days researching into leads on breaking cases, freelance writing to get her foot in door didn't pay the bills on her 1 bedroom apartment. She knew that she could downgrade to a studio, but after 4 years of college in said living arrangement, she had refused. Hence needing a full-time gig that paid well enough to cover her expenses.

Her mind drifted to her best friend Veronica's offer to let her move-in, but Betty was intent on making it on her own as a way to prove her parents wrong. Always so stubborn, it'll get you in trouble if you're not careful, her nose scrunched at the voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like her mother.

However, she did take up Veronica's offer of helping her find a job in which they would accept her Journalism degree instead of the usually preferred Business Admin one. V’s father, Hiram Lodge, was a bigwig himself and had several business associates in high places, and it was thanks to him and his connections that she found herself in her current predicament of constant arousal over Forsythe Pendelton Jones the Third.

Who knew such a pretentious sounding name could very well fit a brooding bad boy type, who thankfully was in no way an asshole to his subordinates. It was only to his business rivals that he was truly ruthless. And if Betty was being honest with herself, his domineering tone he used during those business dealings had her panties soaked. His emanating power was her ultimate weakness and she wished she could just bang her head on her desk in utter embarrassment over how her insides turned to jelly.

“Hold the door!” An all too familiar commanding voice had her hand shooting out to block the doors closing right after she heard hold.

“G’morning, Mr. Jones!” was heard. 

A rushed “Tall Boy” the only response, before the tall frame of the man who haunted her dreams and played a starring role in her dirtiest fantasies crowded the doorway of the elevator, pulling up short at the sight of his PA.

“Ms. Cooper,” his voice like velvet caressed her as she felt her nipples go hard and her breasts grow heavier from it alone. “Perfect, you’re here.” His smile nearly had her falling to her knees at his feet.

Get it the fuck together, Cooper, she berated how easily he undid her without even knowing. Or caring, the voice in her head added snappishly.

She had been late getting up this morning, which hasn’t left her enough time for her normal daily AM self-care session with her favorite vibe that she had found extremely necessary since starting at Triple S. In the month of being his PA, she hadn't missed a day, but her she was, stuck on an elevator ride with the one man she wanted to get utterly lost in.

He leaned past her, hitting the button for their floor where his office was. It was all she could do to keep breathing normally, something she regretted at once when the intoxicating scent of his cologne washed over her senses and she felt a gush of wetness at the apex of her thighs. The doors slid shut and the box started to rise.

Fuck, not now, Cooper. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a terrible idea on her part as the lace of her underwear only made the friction more intense. She could feel her arousal painting the inside of her thighs.

You're such a horny mess, she squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment. As attuned as she was to her own body, she could practically smell herself and her face flushed at the realization. She only prayed that the scent of his cologne would mask the smell from the object of her arousal.

She tugged at the hem of her shorter than normal pencil skirt, her brain once again cursing itself for sleeping through her alarm. She realized too late how terrible of an idea it was. His eyes snapped to get at the movement, taking in her form and where her garter belt peaked out from under the skirt.

She watched in horror as his nostrils flared and he took a deep breath to compose himself. It was the wrong, or right, decision on his part as he caught the unmistakable whiff of her excitement. His eyes fell shut for the briefest moment before opening once more. 

To her shock, his normally green eyes were nearly overtaken with the black of his irises blown wide. “Ms. Cooper,” his voice was so deep she could feel the vibration of it to her core.

He stepped towards her, all but backing her into the corner. Her breath caught in her throat as her chest heaved, drawing his eyes down to her cleavage that was nearly spilling out of the low cut shirt that she had thrown on in her haste to not be late. She watched as his tongue darted across his lips, a soft mewling sound dropping from her own unwittingly.

There was a soft growling sound in response as a soft “Sir” fell from her mouth. 

She could see the tether snap in his eyes as they flashed at her unbidden address, his right hand grasping the nape of her neck as his left wrapped around her waist, hauling her lithe form to his.

Their lips were millimeters apart, her eyes having fallen shut at the sensation racing through her veins. She could feel his lips hovering over hers, but moving no further. She pried her eyes open, confused by his hesitation, and then she saw it. 

The unspoken question his eyes of if this was ok, if she wanted this, if she wanted him. Her heart stuttered and her whispered “Yes” was all that was heard before his soft lips came crashing down in the most passionate kiss she’d ever experienced.

He knew how to kiss, soft pecks littered between passionate dances of his tongue tangling with hers. He tasted of the spearmint gum he chewed and tobacco of the cigarettes she had been trying to get him to quit. It was an intoxicating flavor combination and she couldn’t get enough.

Her hands had tangled in his silky hair, she noted in the back of her mind how it felt so much better than she had ever imagined, as her knee rose and hitched itself over his hip. His hand that had been around her waist dropped to her ass, pulling her somehow even closer into his embrace. His hips rocked, grinding his stiff erection into her core, the sensation causing her brain to short circuit and her lips broke away from his as her head fell back against the cool metal of the elevator box.

Uncaring that his lips were no longer on hers, they attached themselves to her neck, kissing, biting, sucking until they reached the top swells of her breast. She was moaning at each kiss, feeling like she was about to become completely boneless in his arms as her hands, still gripping his hair, pulled him tight to her bosom, never wanting this feeling to end.

She was so lost in everything he was doing, she didn't even notice the elevator starting to slow. Thankfully he was aware enough of where they were that he pulled back slightly as he felt the box of metal reaching its destination. He pecked her lips twice more, tucked her hair that had fallen out of her bun back behind her ear, and lowered her still hooked leg back to the ground.

They both straightened their clothes and hair as he folded his suit jacket which he had yet to put on over his arm to hide the evidence of how much she excited him. He gave her a quick wink before guarding his features as the elevator pinged to signal their floor and the doors slid open to reveal a matronly Ms. Grundy at the executive receptionist’s desk.

He placed a hand at the small of her lower back which caused her to shiver with delight.

“Morning Geraldine,” he greeted the older lady warmly. “Looking beautiful as ever.”

“Good morning, Gigi!” Betty added brightly.

“Morning Mr. Jones, Betty,” the lady blushed at the young CEO’s greeting.

“Please hold all my calls and reschedule any visitors for me this morning, Ms. Cooper and I have a very important last minute meeting that is expected to last for a while. I'll let you know when it's done.” Betty’s eyes flashed to him in surprise. What meeting? Did he mean? Oh God. His face gave absolutely nothing away.

“Of course, Sir. Have a wonderful day!” Her face showed absolutely no sign of suspicion and the tightness in Betty’s chest receded by a fraction. 

His hand, still pressed to her lower back, pushed her forward, ushering her down the hall. They passed her desk and he guided her into his office. His sound proof office, she reminded herself. Closing the door and flipping the lock, as an extra precaution, he guided her until her back was pressed against the mahogany and his arms were caging her in.

A cage you very much don’t mind being in, her mind was racing at all the possibilities of this unexpected turn her morning took.

“Now, Ms. Cooper, where were we?” His hooded gaze weighed down on her and she bit her lip at how his voice washed over her.

Her hands grasped his tie to pull him closer and she looked up at him through her lashes. “Mr. Jones.”

[aubreycasuallyobsesses]

Sweet, Sweet is the Greeting of Eyes pt. 1

Lady Veronica x Forsythe Pendleton Jones III

Summary: It’s 1819 England—two young adults have found a mutual admiration for each other over hours of exchanging words about poetry, literature, science and the arts. The first, Lady Veronica, is wealthy beyond imagination, but so isolated in her country home. The second is Forsythe Pendleton Jones III, an academic who thrived while educating the underprivileged youths of London. The bond they slowly form over time is what they both want and crave...but what did it all mean for their own futures - both together, and singularly.

Notes: Oh my god. This is my first ever actual fic, let alone a regency!au, I hope you like it @kindnessinpain2000 , time got away from me this month, but this was fun to create! I really loved all your requests, but this vibe really stuck in my mind. I think I’ll probably do 1-2 more parts if you love this...Happy Holidays love! Also, I know the title is from a John Keats poem he wrote in a letter in June 1818, to George and Georgiana Keats - which was first published in 1925, but I swear it’s something they’d exchange in this fic, so I’m going with it. 

Warnings: Honestly none, maybe just some major slow burn, and a touch of the typical moody Jughead we know and love.

X

It was 1819 and spring was finally here. As he approached Pembrooke, hired on as a tutor by one of the wealthiest families on this side of Oxford, he couldn’t help but miss the city. The constant change of faces, never-ending booksellers and his students. He taught underprivileged teens and young adults how to read. Watching each come alive while reading his favorite literature was fascinating to him. Leaving London for permanent employment at a country house didn’t spark anything thrilling for him, but the financial security felt like a need due to unforeseen familial issues that recently arose. Little did he know his entire future would be upended soon enough.

Forsythe Pendleton Jones III was an academic who had a way with words. Compared to others of a similar age, he was incredibly well educated. With a swath of floppy dark brown waves, a stare that could pierce one's soul and an air of mystery behind his eyes. Women of all ages noticed him. He was never one for romance, he could be, but no one intrigued him longer than a few minutes. That is until he walked into the entrance hall of the country home. He was greeted by The Lord and Lady Pembrooke and more specifically their only daughter, Lady Veronica.

As the weeks passed and time turned to months, he fell into a simple routine, or as simple as one could get existing within this environment. His mornings consisted of tea, reading alone in the study prior to making his way to the north library for daily education. He tutored Lord Pembrooke’s young nephews from Spain, who now lived in England year-round. Although compared to his typical London pupils, they had been exposed at an early age to some of the best literature, art, music, mathematics, and sciences one could afford. However, just like his former pupils, the boys still had that spark in their eye and an excitement for learning. Most days were spent this way, with evenings in the library, where he often read aloud to the family and distant relatives or friends of the Lord and Lady who spent weekends in the country.

During the seemingly endless evenings immersed in a book, he grew to look forward to Saturdays most. This was when Lady Veronica read to the boys in the afternoons while he prepared the lessons for the following week. Oftentimes he found himself distracted and lost in thought while she took over the study with her voice, which was so unlike him. Where were these thoughts creeping in from, why her of all people, it’s not like he had a chance to ever publicly declare he had these thoughts about her. They were from two very different backgrounds, while he was well off and had some slight social advantages, her father would never allow for their lives to intertwine romantically.

It was after one of these weekend afternoons, while he was lost in a recently published science essay for the boys Monday lessons, that he looked up just as Lady Veronica passed by the desk and softly dropped a small envelope on his never-ending stack of textbooks. After they shared a mutually discreet glance, she was gone from the room. Although he was anxious to rip the parchment open and delve into whatever she had written to him, he slowly collected his papers, books, quills, sure to not forget her mysterious note and with haste escaped to his living quarters in the north wing. Once inside, he settled at his chair near the window to unseal the unassuming note. He was immediately caught by her graceful and quickly scrawled words. It was not known that he had a fondness for the romantic sonnets of the past and present, but more specifically Lord George Byron. How she had known this, he assumed was purely coincidental.

And like music on the waters    Is thy sweet voice to me: When, as if its sound were causing The charmed ocean’s pausing, The waves lie still and gleaming, And the lull’d winds seem dreaming:                Meet me in the garden at half-past dusk tomorrow...LV.

Moving from the window to his desk, removing a quill, some parchment and settling in to contemplate how to reply. He needed to write something in such a way that conveyed every thought of her that occupied his mind, without seeming entirely too infatuated or overbearing,  he scrawled down, not his own words, but Percy Bysshe Shelly.

Thy gentle words are drops of balm

  In life’s too bitter bowl;

These choicest blessings I have

       known.

Harriet! If all who long to live

 In the warm sunshine of thine eyes, -F

After sealing the small note, Forsythe needed to find a moment to slip it to her unnoticed. The family resided in the east wing, which he rarely ventured to. It needed to be inconspicuous; however, he could hardly ask her lady’s maid, Elisbeth to hand off the note to her without stirring up whispers among the others. He decided to wait until after their shared family meal, and while he selected a book to read that evening. She routinely wandered the library and would choose favorites for him to read passages from, while Lord and Lady Pembrooke said their goodnights to the boys prior to joining for the evening. Tonight while he handed off a Wordsworth’s An Evening Walk and Descriptive Sketches, to her, they shared a quick glance and brushed fingertips. With his small token of admiration tucked inside the cover.

The night passed excruciatingly too slow for him. The following day, while he enjoyed the time spent delving into their expansive literature collection, he wanted nothing more than to somehow speed time and space up to get through the next day. Although he had a leisurely day of riding with Lord Pembrooke in the northeastern Cotswolds, on which Pembrooke sat with all of its stately, silent power - his mind was consumed entirely by Lady Veronica throughout the afternoon outing. Lord Pembrooke continued to engage in conversation with him throughout the day gone, most of which consisted of him trying to convince Forsythe into participating in his humorous antics with his valet and the young men who rode along. It was a pleasant escape from the normal academic rigors of the last weeks, but he wanted nothing more than for dusk to finally arrive.

With time finally on his side, he made his way out the north side exit to the sweeping gardens south of the home, he couldn’t help but feel a small sliver of anxiety. This is not something he normally did. Secret stolen glances, mysterious garden strolls with a woman of her caliber were just not things Forsythe Pendleton Jones III participated in. But there was something different about Lady Veronica. She was an enigma. Other ladies of a similar age were already well acquainted with love and romance, oftentimes already marrying a gentleman of significant family power and notoriety. Yet, here she was, sharing mutual glances with him over literature. Discussing the works of today’s most influential authors and poets with him in the study throughout the days. How had fate placed her in his path, was this to be a fleeting moment or the start of something more.  

Lost in wandering a section covered in soft moss and wildflowers near the outskirts of the garden, he hadn’t heard her approach. Suddenly she was next to him and he was unable to form a coherent thought to create a sentence. Luckily for him, she took the lead, “Hello Forsythe, I see you have found yourself in my absolute favorite section of my mother’s garden, shall we walk?” She slipped her graceful hand into the nook of his arm and thus began their secret conversations.

As they wandered aimlessly throughout the Pembrooke’s unparalleled garden, they shared slowly about their favorite topics, uncovering what made their minds operate. When each realized, unbeknownst to them, that this was not going to be a singular incident. They were discovering that there was another soul in the universe that related to their own mind, even heart, so closely. Just as they were rounding another corner of the labyrinth they had aimlessly strolled into, thunder was heard above. Soon enough it was a ceaseless rainfall. Removing his tailcoat and draping it over her small frame, they found refuge from the summer storm, in the small garden pavilion.

While waiting for the rain to cease, they sat in comfortable silence. Each reveling in the absolute quiet that always happens during a particularly hard rainfall. While she watched the garden and contained all the words that he too was holding back for fear of breaking the magic spell that fell over them. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander again. To all of the countless times he had admired, not just her mind, but her outward beauty as well. She had dark hair, just a shade darker than his own, nearly the color of a raven’s feathers. With facial features that he saw as almost exotic compared to other women he saw while living in London, yet her face was also so familiar to him. Lost in his own mind yet again, he hadn’t noticed that she glanced over while he leaned back against the pillar of the stone pavilion. With a smirk on her face and a devilish glint in her eye, “Forsythe, dare I say we escape this cold night and make a run for shelter?”

After giving hardly any thought to the inquiry, “Oh, Lady Veronica, I thought you would like to stay here, with me and exist in this freezing realm of silence forever?”

With a laugh and a shake of her raven-haired head, she said, “I should never leave if I didn’t have to Forsythe.” Taking her hand, he whisked her into the storm across the garden, in the direction of Pembrooke.

As they ran towards the warmth of the fireplaces and dry clothing that awaited each of them inside. Unknown to each of them was what fate truly did have in store for them. The neverending hours wandering the gardens, learning the deepest feelings of one another. The endless laughs exchanged over comedic books, reading poems, literature and countless notes covertly exchanged. What it all meant for their own futures - both together, and singularly.

[swindlersstole]

Panda! Faremma for 6 plz

you can’t see me but i’ve been squint emoji-ing this since i got it so watch me just queer eye erdrea flip this bad boy around

also please look at this comic i had this in mind the whole time

6. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

~

Gemma knew she might never be as... well acquainted, to put it lightly, with the oddities of Erdrea as Nova was. At the very least, she wouldn’t be as inoculated to the inherent quirkiness of the world nearly as quickly as he had been--but she knew enough from listening to old Chalky’s stories about his travels to understand that while the lives of people outside of Cobblestone were sure to differ from her own, those differences were to be shared and celebrated, rather than met with scorn. Gemma knew this. 

She did not think what was happening now was the fault of a Gallopolitan cultural exchange.

Prince Faris was eccentric. She realized that the first day she met him, but it was endearing, and Nova spoke of him highly enough that it didn’t deter him away. Erik and Veronica were another story, but those two didn’t seem to like much, so Gemma had to take that with a grain of salt. Regardless, the prince had been a great help with Dundrasil as far as the land itself went (he was a natural green thumb, who knew!), and he was polite and charming and funny towards her, Gemma didn’t give the more off-center aspects of his personality much thought.

Granted, even if she had, she still didn’t think that it would have explained why he was standing in her guest room at the castle in his drawers. She supposed she had to be thankful for that, at least--and for the fact that Faris himself didn’t look like he wanted to be there.

Their eyes had met for what felt like the longest minute of her life before Faris, with a panicked yelp, ducked into her bed and threw the covers over himself, desperate to hide. Even standing in the doorway, Gemma could hear him softly whining in embarrassment.

Yes. Alright. So if nothing else, this definitely wasn’t intentional on his part. That did put Gemma at... a significant amount of ease. Enough ease that she felt alright closing the door behind her--but it still raised a multitude of questions.

The princely lump on her bed seemed to tremble as she stepped closer, and that trembled turned into a quick jump when Gemma seated herself at her bedside. She allowed him a moment to collect himself before finally breaking the silence. “...Faris.”

He startled again, but less violently so, at the sound of his name. Gemma wondered if perhaps she should have used his proper title, but he had insisted she didn’t, and it might have made him more skittish. “M--Milady.”

“Is there... a reason,” she started, slowly, “you’re naked in my bed?”

“I...” The lump went silent a moment, before speaking up again, quietly, “I am not... naked.”

“You’re down to your breeches under there, aren’tcha?” That earned Gemma another whine, and she nudged him gently. “C’mon, up and at ‘em. What happened?”

Another moment of silence followed; the lump rose rather noticeably with Faris taking in a great deal of air, before he slid one arm out from under the covers, pointing to his left. “Altair.”

He pointed towards a window in the guest room--one that Gemma hadn’t noticed had been open this whole time--and without any further explanation, she rose from the bed herself, and went to the window to investigate.

She knew what to look for, in any event; Altair was the name of Faris’ horse, a rather spirited and playful stallion that Nova had been tutoring Faris to ride on. Nova had thought they’d been a good match for one another--it was important for a rider and their steed to have similar personalities for ideal teamwork, but even from one sit-on on those lessons, Gemma had thought that Nova had missed a rather crucial hiccup in that logic, for this case. Normally, other people dealt with Faris; Faris, per se, did not deal with Faris.

It didn’t surprise Gemma, in that sense, that Faris was having problems with his horse. What did surprise her, though, was seeing that horse trot around the royal training grounds with nary a care in the world, with just layers upon layers of colorful silk stuck in his saddle. And if Gemma squinted, she was sure she saw a turban lying half-trampled in the dirt near the gate.

The pieces suddenly clicked into place, and she spun around with a gasp. “He--but how?”

“I don’t know!” Faris finally emerged from the cocoon himself, face flushed and hair askew. “I do not know. One moment, we are trotting, and everything is well, and then the next...”

He trailed off, but Gemma didn’t need him to continue. Instead, Faris pushed his face into a nearby pillow in shame. “I did not think--it seemed so simple, and Nova is a fantastic tutor, I thought I had at least that mastered! It would have been a fine way to show my progress--but look at me! I cannot let him see me like this, he’ll think me a lost cause!”

“Oh, come on, now, he’d never think that!” Faris sounded absolutely dejected at the idea, as nonsensical as it was. On some level, Gemma was sure he knew that, too, but it was still a bit relieving that this was the reason behind this little surprise. “Is that why you’re in here? To make sure he doesn’t see you?”

“...him amongst others.” The lump sighed again in defeat. “It was my intent... my hope, rather, that I would find something to wear before retrieving my things. Often times, we leave clothing in these rooms for guests for their use. Not everyone comes to the desert prepared.”

“I guess I can follow that...” She was not stranger to the idea; Serena had recommended a store she’d been to on one of her first visits to Gemma, and Gemma might have bought a matching dancer’s costume for herself to wear while out and about. “But--why my room? I thought you were tryin’ to keep away from people.”

Faris was silent again for a long while, but slowly he sat up, still bundled in blankets as he answered. “I cannot lie. I... forgot that this was the room we gave you.”

Gemma snickered. “You thought it was empty?”

“T-To my credit, it was empty!” He stammered. “You were not in here when I... arrived!”

“When you climbed through the window in your knickers, you mean.”

Faris’ entire body deflated, and he pouted at the marble floor. It was a move that reminded Gemma much of Nova when they were children, and he was doing his best to spin the yarn that the slimedrop had just fallen on his head, he didn’t put it in there, Gem. The thought made her giggle again, and Faris in turn huffed.

“Milady makes it sound so uncouth.”

“It would be a little, if it were anybody else.” Though Gemma doubted he would have had the chance to explain himself if it were anybody else, so truly, Faris lucked out in many ways this day. “So it’s a good thing for you it was me! I can take care of this.”

Faris’ pout lightened very quickly, fading away to bewilderment. “Take... care?”

“Nova’s not the only one who grew up around horses, y’know.” Gemma spoke while she hoisted herself onto the window pane, swinging one leg outside the palace walls. “I’d reckon I can get your things back before anyone even knows you went ridin’.

“You--really?” 

Faris was on his feet in an instant; he stumbled towards Gemma, still wrapped in sheets, but his demeanor was already back to overly cheerful and excited. It was much more of the charming disposition Gemma had been so taken with before, not entirely prince-like to her imagination, but very boyish and sweet. It added a layer of endearment to the situation at hand.

“Gemma, you are truly a miracle worker!” He praised. “I owe you a great debt. Name anything, and it shall be yours post-haste.”

“Well, let me get your clothes back, first!” Gemma rolled her eyes with a grin, and brought her other leg out the window. “Then we can talk business.”

Perhaps it wasn’t the best phrase to use, but Faris’ laughter followed in turn as Gemma hopped onto the grass below. “I await my fair hero’s return with bated breath!”

The term gave Gemma another fit of giggles, but she waved Faris off as she took off for the grounds, cheeks tinged a rosy, flattered pink.