#at least the insane bright makeup kids I had as a kid (that I would eat and then throw out) had such garish colors I’d never mistake it for

[faithless-companion]

This is literally so boring looking. Not like children (or anyone) needs makeup in the first place but like, at least make it fun and garish. Or sparkly and fun flavors like others have mentioned. Give the kids some goddamn lipsmackers

Letting kids go bare faced would be an even better way of highlighting natural beauty

[aizenat]

I’m at a point where my sympathy for women who choose to do that shit too is dwindling. I had this thought the other day about how everyone these days are so COMMERCIAL.

Everyone acts like they’re a model in a commercial. Gotta have perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect body, etc. And because of that, the rebellious spirit of youth is completely gone. Kids have always struggled to fit in and at least previous generations had fucking alternative subcultures to seek solace in. But that doesn’t exist today! Fucking marvel is calling Joe Locke in Agatha goth! Bitch where???!!!!!! Black eyeliner, nail polish, and a black hoodie over ripped jeans is not fucking goth! I feel like I’m in 2007 having the whole goth vs emo debate again! Like hello? If anyone wearing those things immediately made them goth then me and my friends in hs were super goth (we weren’t; we couldn’t even afford to dress like the emo kids we were lol)!

Kids don’t rebel anymore! They don’t sneak out to meet boys and girls. They don’t skip classes to smoke behind the football stands or hang out at the mall. They don’t read books their parents would clutch their pearls at. They don’t read dark and macabre shit like Edgar Allen Poe and Stephen King. They don’t dye their hair black and take selfies licking knives or lying on train tracks with black and white filters over them. They don’t let their nail polish chip and let their vans get scuffed, and steal their parents’ liquor and shoplift from the drug store after school or loiter around stores until managers kick them out. They don’t steal each others boyfriends or get in screaming matches in the middle of the hallway. They don’t rebel in anyway that isn’t hyper consumeristic (Sephora kids) or melting down over not having their iPads.

And so they all have to be commercial. Bright eyed and marketable so brands will pick them to push their useless products. And this has trickled into celebrity culture too. Where are the rebellious nepo babies like the Osborne siblings with their filthy mouths and regular looking bodies in a sea of Hollywood skinny celebs? Where are the Pinks singing about not wanting to be a stupid girl? Where are the Ciaras with a tomboyish style so they can DANCE (other than twerking)? Fuck even Jeffree Star (MySpace era; not yt era) had an appeal at one point because he was an androgynous man with bright neon pink hair and eyebrows with emo makeup and styling.

This lack of rebellion means everyone gets in the industry and just falls in line. Fuck a rebel. A REAL rebel (if one of you mention that white girl from the Midwest with constant foot in mouth syndrome I will smite you with the power of 2000s linkin park, my chemical romance, and limp bizkit istg); everyone just has to be perfectly commercial. It’s why ice blew up despite being incredibly untalented.

And it’s why these girls enter the industry and just immediately be like “oooh lemme get plastic surgery so I can look like every other bbl having ig model/baddie these niggas wanna fuck; that’ll sell records!” Which is insane because female rappers marketing to women over marketing to men will go a LOT farther. So who are you doing it for? And don’t say yourself because you would love yourself if someone didn’t tell you not to. So who told you and why are you listening to them instead of going “you know what? I’m good as I am. Fuck you, I ain’t changing for a hater.” Yall rapping about opps and fucking getting cut open and starving and working out like crazy and taking ozempic and lying about it just to what? Hope some nigga in the industry will collab with you?

Ain’t no way fucking with fake tits and ass feels good. Ain’t no way that nose job helping you with your breath control. No way them veneers helping you eat better. Like be for real. The industry/society told you to conform and you did like sheep. It’s so hard to take the boss bitch/I’m that girl messages to heart when I don’t believe you. If someone told you you laughed weird, you’d change it. Someone told you a certain color looked bad on you, you’d stop wearing it. Someone says they hate your natural hair, you become addicted to the buss downs.

You’re literal sheep. Shepherd says go here and you say baa baa shepherd say less.

And then if someone calls this behavior out, people want to fight to the death for their right to conform to what society says without question. Fight to the death for their god given American right to buy products they don’t need and cosmetic surgeries they don’t need (and don’t know the long term effects and consequences of) with the lie of “I’m doing it for myself.”

No desire to redefine beauty standards by daring to be different. No interest in questioning why we as women are expected to do all this while men aren’t. Head empty other than a repeating mantra of how it’s for you, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to spend thousands of dollars radically and fundamentally changing how you look. It’s totally not self hatred to the highest degree that you should be spending those thousands on therapy unpacking instead of plastic surgery. None of it. Just a dread of feeling like you HAVE to do it, it’s “maintenance,” but yet don’t question why you feel you HAVE to do it.

I need real rebels in music again. Tired of all the perfectly curated, well manicured, conformists masquerading as revolutionary. I need heavy metal and pop rock and messy hair and super thick eyeliner and girls wearing leather jackets over baggy tripp pants and band shirts back. I need rebellion back. I need girls who are willing to fight back against standards and say fuck you to anyone expecting them to change. I need the women who would gag at the idea of conforming to be like Britney back. I need the women rapping about Escalades (the Bentleys the hummers the Benz) instead of sucking dick and their fat asses. Give me Gwen Stefani and her Alice in wonderland esthetic trying to motivate herself talking about whatcha waiting for! Give me Ciara talking about sometimes I wish I could act like a boy. Give me Hayley screaming once a whore you’re nothing more I’m sorry that’ll never change. Give me a rock band singing so darken your clothes and strike a violent pose about the youth.

Fucking give me REBELLION. I need these modern girls to fucking get off their knees AND STAND THE FUCK UP.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Uncertain Certainties P2

Series Masterlist - Pietro Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: After waking up in a room you don’t know and discovering you are married to a man you don’t know, you feel reality slowly slipping away from you.

Pairing: Pietro x Fem!Reader / Wanda x Vision

Warning: Mention of character death.

‘Are you almost ready,‘ a voice calls from outside the bedroom. You feel a shock go through your body, as if someone just caught you doing something you shouldn’t be doing.

‘Yes, nearly done, just finishing up my makeup,‘ you call back. You bite on your lip when you hear the door open. Damn this house and its lack of locks. Pietro’s face peeks around the corner. Your Pietro. This isn’t right. Pietro is dead.

‘You look stunning,‘ he awes. You feel your whole body cringe at the lack of accent in his voice. No Russian endearment in his sentence like he used to put into every single sentence that related to you. Hell, your Pietro was unable to speak to you without calling you his princess every other sentence.

‘Thanks.‘ You reluctantly look back in the mirror. You feel like you’re seeing a shell of yourself, a caricature even. Yes, you might be a nurse for the Avengers but you’d never think of dressing as a “sexy“ nurse for Halloween. You wouldn’t even do that before you became a nurse.

‘And what do you think of mine,‘ Pietro questions. You look at his outfit, which is merely a t-shirt with a duct tape lighting bold over the chest and shorts with tights under them. You chuckle at his appearance. At least that’s one thing you can laugh about in this insane situation.

‘You look wonderful,‘ you smile at him and run your fingers through his hair as if it had to be that way, ‘maybe we should mess with your hair a little. Complete the look.‘

‘What do you suggest?‘ You point at the bottle of hairspray on your makeup table. He raises his eyebrows in question. ‘You sure about that?‘ You nod and push him towards it, laughing all the way. Why are you laughing? You want to cry and lay in bed all day.

‘Come on, let me brush your hair,‘ you tell him. He sits down for you and lets you work on his hair. When you get to the front, he puts his hands gently on your hips to keep you steady. You look into his eyes. 

It’s as if your mind wants you to see Pietro but your eyes see another person. Your mind takes over and you lean down to press a chaste kiss on his lips. He grins when you move away and continue to work on his hair.

‘All done,‘ you smile and lean onto the dresser to have a look at your work. It almost looks like he has two animal ears peeking up from his hair. Another chuckle slips from your lips and you try to hide it behind your hand.

‘Woman, what have you done to me,‘ he laughs, going to ruffle his hair with his hands but you stop him, taking his hands in yours. He pulls your hands towards him and presses a kiss on your knuckles. ‘We should get going. I promised the boys to join in their trick or treating.‘

.

‘Wanda, hey,‘ you smile and hug your friend, ‘you look stunning. Scarlet witch, right?‘

‘Indeed, thank you very much,‘ she smiles and pulls you inside. Vision walks down the stairs and you have to suppress a laugh. His face is bright red and he looks like he doesn’t know how to wear basketball shorts.

‘My dear, what did she do to you Vision,‘ you snort a laugh. He rolls his eyes and sighs. Pietro is already more than happily playing with Billy and Tommy. Videogames. Hm. You never thought Pietro would like those that much. They never move as fast as he does.

‘Well, you have fun tonight, darling,‘ Vision says as he starts to walk towards the door. Wanda whips her head around, following him closely with her eyes.

‘What? What do you mean? You’re all dressed and ready to go.‘

‘I’m undercover,‘ Vision dramatically explains to her, ‘Halloween is a bacchanal for adolescent trouble-makers and the neighborhood watch is the only thing that stands between the trees and the toilet paper.‘ Wanda looks confused and annoyed.

‘No, that’s not what you’re supposed to-‘

‘What?‘

‘Well,‘ Wanda sighs and crosses her arms, ‘you didn’t tell me you had plans.‘ A storm is brewing. You feel out of place, like you’re not supposed to stand behind her. So you move to the couch to watch Pietro play games with the boys.

‘Well, I am telling you now,‘ Vision replies calmly. For a second, you feel as if you’re zoning out. As if the world has gone to a standstill but you can see Billy move and talk. Pietro can see it too. You see him move.

‘It’s their first Halloween. You have to be there,‘ Wanda argues with Vision. Pietro jumps up and gives you a wink. He walks up behind Wanda and Vision, trying to defuse the situation.

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’s the big dealio? Big guy has a conflict, twins need a father figure for the night. Don’t sweat is sis. I got the old XY chromosome. Uncle P to the rescue,‘ he tells Wanda as if that should calm her down but Pietro would never say that and you know.

‘There you go,‘ Vision says and pats Pietro on the shoulder, ‘problem solved. You have a spooky time tonight, kids.‘

‘Goodnight, dad!‘ ‘Bye, dad.‘

Vision turns back to Wanda and gently puts his hands on her shoulders. ‘Wanda?‘ He presses a kiss to her cheek but she seems reluctant and confused. ‘Be good.‘ Something’s very, very off.

You don’t get much time to think about it, because as soon as the door closes you hear Wanda scream, making you scream in fear. You turn around to see Pietro scaring her. ‘Don’t do that!’ We call out in synchrony. 

‘Where do you keep your water balloons?‘ It’s as if he’s in a totally different world. He doesn’t care about you or Wanda. He’s just here to make a mess.

‘What? We don’t have water balloons,‘ Wanda tells him.

‘Where are we gonna put all this shaving cream?‘ You still feel like you’re outside the scene. Tommy is standing up to join the adults in conversation but meanwhile you and Billy are just staring at an static TV screen.

‘Wanda?‘ You call out to her as she starts walking to the kitchen. She turns back around, again looking confused as to why you’re speaking just as she had looked confused at Vision’s plans.

‘What is it dear?‘

‘Something’s not right,‘ you tell her. She sits down on the couch with you, looking concerned as ever. ‘That is not my Pietro. That’s not your brother. My Pietro died in Sokovia.‘

‘No he didn’t, he’s right there,‘ Wanda chuckles away your worries but you grab her hands to stop her from leaving.

‘Wanda, listen to me,‘ you say sternly, ‘that is not my Pietro, I have never been next door before today, and I would never marry a man like him, whoever he may be.‘ She sighs and rubs her thumbs over the backs of your hands, looking caring but disappointed.

‘I’m so sorry. I thought we could be happy here,‘ Wanda tells you, ‘all of us. Together.‘

‘What are you talking about,‘ you question her, tears springing into the corners of your eyes, ‘I was happy.‘

‘But Pietro-‘

‘What about him? I loved him more than anything but he would’ve wanted me to  move on. Keep living life,‘ you tell her. Everyone around you freezes. It’s as if time stands still. Wanda shakes her head.

‘I’m sorry I have to do this,‘ she softly tells you. Suddenly, the air is knocked out of you. You see all of Westview fly past your eyes until you are spit through a barrier and land in the grass. You cough and wheeze, trying to get your breathing normal again.

Suddenly, there are people with guns standing around you. All of them ready to shoot. 

‘What’s going on,‘ you ask them. They share conflicted looks between each other until one finally speaks up.

‘We don’t know.‘

[clubyukhei]

drunk in love (m)

pairing: wong yukhei x (f) reader

genre: smut, fluff

summary: ever since he saw you in your deep red bustier dress at the start of the night, he made it a mission to let the world know you were his, and as he had whispered to you at the start of the night — to ravish you once you both got home.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: hi!! this is my first one-shot that’s really just a smutty continuation to this drabble (but you don’t need to read it beforehand)!!! i had a lot of fun writing this self-indulgent piece sdhfjshdfjs some feedback would be greatly appreciated!! i hope you enjoy drunk+needy yukhei :))) as always thanks for reading <3 

–

“baby… where did you go?”

the sudden sound frightens you for a second, making you tighten your grip on your cup of water as you walk down the dark hallway of your silent apartment. it’s past midnight, and the only source of brightness is the bedside lamp in your bedroom. a soft groan comes from there, and you quicken your steps.

just as you enter your room, you hear your name being whined needily in a deep voice.

propped up against the headboard and still fully dressed in his now crumpled suit, your boyfriend pouts at you like a kid whose candy got stolen.

“i was just getting you some water, yukhei,”  you sigh.

“you left me alone. come back here,” he mumbles, even though you’re just two steps away from him.

you stare at him in amusement, enjoying his drunk self who’s three times more desperate for your affection.

to be honest, you knew you were going to end up in a situation like this. in fact, you pretty much saw this coming a few hours ago when the two of you were at sicheng’s wedding — where yukhei had one too many.

he shrugged you off each time you eyed him as his wine glass had a refill, squeezing your thigh with his hand that had been resting there the entire night. it definitely didn’t help that kunhang was sitting on yukhei’s other side, too. the two boys kept joking around with their own drinking challenge, but unlike your boyfriend, kunhang was actually capable of handling his liquor.

by the time the newlywed couple came over to your table, yukhei was half-gone, giggling at every single thing that came from sicheng’s mouth.

but as humiliated as you were over your boyfriend’s drunk antics, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. after all, it had been a long time since you last saw him playing around with the gang — and you weren’t going to dampen the mood on such a joyous occasion. even though yukhei’s antics earned you a few weird stares from the other guests, it was nothing you couldn’t handle.

“dude, you know sicheng’s mum just passed by us right?” dejun snickered at yukhei, who had been throwing peanuts at yangyang sitting across the table.

he went on like this, entertaining the boys till the end of the night. after most guests had left, ten offered to give you both a lift home out of concern. you thanked him in relief just seconds before yukhei pulled you onto his lap, refusing to let you get up and making everyone erupt in laughter.

but only you knew that yukhei wasn’t just drunk.

ever since he saw you in your deep red bustier dress at the start of the night, he made it a mission to let the world know you were his, and as he had whispered to you at the start of the night — to ravish you once you both got home.

but now, as you watch him down the cup of water in one go before placing it on the bedside table with a thud, you’re pretty confident your boyfriend is going to doze off anytime… which means that the anticipation that had you buzzing throughout the night would unfortunately just have to die.

“so hot,” yukhei mumbles.

his hand reaches for his neatly done tie you had helped him with earlier, pulling the knot as if it was going to loosen right away.

a sigh leaves your lips as you take a seat next to him and help him undress. his eyes are droopy, and you keep glancing at him to see if they’re shut, but he’s just observing you quietly.

“arms up.” you tell him when you finish unbuttoning his shirt.

you expect him to comply, but he doesn’t move an inch.

“trying to get me naked, hm?” he chuckles incoherently, and you just snort and brush his comment off.

he lifts his arms anyway, and you quickly remove his shirt, dumping it on the floor. by now, the drowsiness is getting to you. you’re dying to take your makeup off and finally hit the sheets — it’s all you can think of as you undo the buckle on yukhei’s belt and pull his pants off, which almost has you sweating.

just as you stand to head to the bathroom, yukhei’s large hand circles around your wrist and pulls you back onto the bed in a swift moment.

“baby, come here. i wanna tell you a secret.” yukhei murmurs, and you stare at him, waiting for a joke.

“no, no. come closer.”

and you do, shamelessly taking a seat right on his crotch which makes his lips twitch into a smirk. his hand leaves your wrist and runs up your arm to the back of your neck, where he pulls you even closer until you feel him breathing by your ear.

“you’re so pretty.” he whispers.

you turn to face him with a lazy smile before pecking him on the cheek. “thank you, yukhei. you told me so many times.”

and he did, he was showering you with compliments all night, each one getting cheesier than the last.

you’re about to move away again, but his grip on your neck tightens as he whines at you to wait. this time, you comply when you notice his gaze darting from your cleavage to your lips, and then your eyes. there’s a hint of lust that you recognise all too well.

“i keep thinking about ripping this dress off and fucking you until you can’t walk.”

just like that, a fiery heat lights up your entire body and you almost gasp, but your breath hitches in your throat. the satisfaction of realising yukhei didn’t forget about his promise makes you dizzy, and all the excitement floods your entire being at once.

stunned and speechless, you rest your forehead against his, thinking of what to say. but you’re very much distracted.

his hands curve around your bum, moving your core against his obvious hard-on, and every bone in your body instantly turns weak. you feel like putty whenever his hands are on you like this, and right now it’s taking everything in you to not grind on him.

“yukhei, b-babe... you’re too drunk.” you stutter, but your body only betrays you as your hips slowly begin to move with his guidance.

“i can still make you come,” he says seriously without an ounce of doubt.

the tension in the air thickens when his hands smooth over the soft skin of your thighs, moving beneath your dress and pushing it up in a slow and teasing manner, almost like he’s daring you to say no.

but you know you’ll say yes anyway — and he knows that too.

so you nod shyly, as if you haven’t been anticipating this moment for the entire night, as if you weren’t bummed at the thought of not being fucked tonight.

yukhei doesn’t waste a single second. his plush lips practically attack yours as he rolls you over to the empty side of the bed hastily.

you feel his hands slide down your spine, desperately in search of the zipper, and you arch your back to help him. just as you’re beginning to taste the champagne on his lips, he pulls away and rushes a trail of wet kisses down your neck.

then he’s dragging the zipper downwards, and you sigh in content when your dress finally loosens after hours of clinging onto your skin. the sucking against your neck stops abruptly, and you watch yukhei sit on his knees clumsily as he expertly tugs your dress off.

you’re thankful for the dim lighting in the bedroom when you feel the heat on your cheeks. yukhei just kneels in front of you, marveling at your almost bare body like a work of art he’s never seen before — except he has, on too many occasions.

“fuck… you’re so beautiful,” he muses, his gaze heavy with lust. yet when he leans down and kisses you, it’s sweet.

you’ve lost count of how many times he has complimented you tonight. but it doesn’t matter, you realise, because this one makes you feel most powerful.

he kisses down the valley between your breasts to the only piece of clothing left on you — your silk panties, that are already drenched.

there’s no time to be embarrassed about it. yukhei moves quickly until the tip of his nose is grazing the wet spot on your panties, and you feel hot breaths of air against your opening.

the mere heat drives you insane, and all you want is for him to be inside you, stretching and filling you to the brim already. but you have a feeling he’s got other plans.

“not tonight yukhei, i need you to fuck me n-now,” you say desperately, and he raises his head to look at you.

“and you said i was too drunk,” he chuckles.

“babe…please,”

“at least let me eat you out first, baby.”

before you can protest, you feel his fingers hook onto your panties and drag them off your legs. his warm hands run up your thighs, spreading them apart until you feel your leaking center exposed to the cool air in the room.

there’s a moment of silence before he lets his tongue glide along your wet folds teasingly, and all you can manage is a gasp.

“you’re so wet, baby.”

yukhei squeezes your thighs when you don’t respond.

“you’ve been waiting for me all night?”

you hum pitifully, not bothering to pretend anymore.

“my baby is so needy, hm? let me take care of her.”

and then his tongue dives into you without warning, curling against your walls in a manner that has a series of broken moans escape your lips.

your hands slide through his long locks as yukhei eats you out like a starving man, his strong hands holding your quivering thighs down.

you’re reeling in pleasure when he suddenly sucks on your clit and adds a finger in you, throwing you off guard again. in a split second your back arches, but he holds your hips down.

yukhei groans when he sees the wrecked state you’re in — you’re writhing against the bedsheets, your hands now gripping onto your pillowcase for dear life.

dragging his long fingers against your soaking walls, he rubs your sensitive bud softly and watches as your mouth starts to hangs open with not a single sound coming out.

“you’re so sexy like this,” you hear him say, but you’re too overwhelmed to even acknowledge it.

it only takes a minute before he feels you reach your climax, and his fingers move faster. you’re chanting his name when he suddenly climbs over you to press his lips against yours. his fingers leave just in time for your wetness to flow out of you.

“fuck,” yukhei mumbles as he pulls away.

you watch him lean back and lick your arousal off his fingers lewdly, the image only making you crave for him to pleasure you again even though you just came.

a curl falls over his forehead as yukhei sheds his boxers off. you bite your bottom lip as you take in the view of his ridiculously handsome face, his abs and the deep v-lines leading to his hard, throbbing dick.

as if he’s reading your mind, yukhei moves to situate himself between your thighs that are still spread open. you’re still reveling in the bliss of your orgasm when he runs the tip of his shaft against your glistening lips and lets out a curse.

impatient, you rest your hands on the sides of his hips and pull him close to you. he gets the message right away, sliding all of him into you in one go at a slow, delicious pace. your wetness welcomes him with ease, and you sigh at the feeling of your walls hugging his thick length.

yukhei’s eyebrows furrow as his hands move to hold up the back of your thighs. he bends down to peck the corner of your lips, shifting himself inside you a little, which makes you moan.

“you feel so good… so warm and wet for me baby, fuck.”

“i’m all yours,” you say and he groans, rolling his hips slowly.

growing impatient, you tighten your grip on his broad shoulders and run a hand down his chest. you open your mouth to tell him to fuck you already but his lips crash into yours, silencing you. you mewl as he swiftly pushes your thighs against your chest and rests your calves on his shoulders, interlocking his hands with yours.

then he’s thrusting into you slowly, just for a few seconds, and pounding into you without restraint.

your eyes shut out of pleasure as you revel in the way his length hits you deeper in this position, brushing against your sensitive spot. yukhei buries his face in the crook of your neck, where he grunts lowly.

you lie on the bed helplessly, folded into half, letting your boyfriend fuck you the way he loves. the sinful noises he makes along with the sound of skin slapping in the air rings in your ears. your walls are tightening around him as you feel your second orgasm building up again.

“b-babe,” his pet name leaves your lips in a whimper.

“come for me baby,” he tells you in a husky voice, his pace picking up as he thrusts into you without a care in the world.

“want you to come for me again,” yukhei mutters, one of his hands reaching to cradle your face.

the euphoria hits you on cue like a wave. you sob softly, freezing for a moment as one side of your face presses against your pillow.

you can’t see your core but you know it’s a huge sticky mess, and you hear your arousal splattering onto the sheets as yukhei continues pounding into you hard and fast. you know he’s reaching his own high — it doesn’t take him long when he’s drunk.

his hand turns your face towards his and he kisses you, this time sucking on your bottom lip. you feel his length twitching before it sinks into you one last time, filling your insides with his warm release.

a few minutes pass as you both stay like this, listening to each other’s breathing and calming down together… until you accidentally move your sore thighs, which makes you wince.

yukhei shushes you immediately, giving you a quick smooch before reluctantly pulling himself out of you. then, he straightens your legs, pausing whenever he hears you hiss.

you shut your eyes for a few moments before gathering whatever strength you have left in your body to sit up on your elbows. doing your best to ignore the soreness of your thighs, you watch as yukhei makes his way to you with a towel and your sleeping gown in hand.

as he cleans you up gently, you observe him in awe, realising that this man was behaving like a giggly drunk just earlier. it amazes you that even after that many glasses of wine, he had the energy to fuck you like that, instead of having you do the work.

yukhei grins devilishly when he catches you staring at him, deep in thought. he climbs over you carefully, avoiding your thighs, and kisses you softly — nothing like the man who folded you into half just minutes ago.

“i need to pee,” you mumble in embarrassment when he finally pulls away, which makes him let out that deep chuckle you adore so much.

“then go pee. you need me to carry you, baby?” he asks sweetly as he gets up, and you know what he’s playing at.

but you’re too tired to bicker with him, so you just open your arms and wait for him to lift you into his embrace — which he gladly does, with extra care, smirking at you the entire time he’s carrying you to the bathroom.

he waits for you to pee and helps you wash your makeup off. when he hands you your toothbrush with a smudge of toothpaste on top, your heart leaps and you want to be back in bed, snuggled up against him already.

your mouth hangs open as you’re ready to brush your teeth, but a huge yawn comes out instead. yukhei’s lips lift into a lazy smile as he giggles at you. you don’t think much about it as you start brushing your teeth, but when you glance at the mirror and see him just grinning at you in adoration with his own toothbrush still in his hand, your movements come to a halt.

“what?”

“i love you, my kind and beautiful goddess sent from above.”

“i love you too, but you are so drunk babe.”

“yeah,” he says, smiling so wide that all his teeth are showing now. “drunk in love.”

–

[residentanchor-writes]

Downside Ch. 2

Summary: Clyde tries his hand at ‘robbing’ a bank. << Chapter 1 Watch the animatic here. Check out the Downside au @robinsdownside! TW: Cursing, mental manipulation

Clyde was anxiously sitting in his trashy car in front of the bank. He wasn't too sure of the thing he was about to do. But he needed the money and he couldn’t crash at Remy’s place forever.

Checking his face in the rearview mirror again, he gladly noted that the makeup still hid his scales that seemed to like to appear more often on his face than anywhere else now. He also let his hair grow out quite a bit to hide them a little behind bangs that fell over the left side of his face. By now he nearly looked like an emo. Working with that style, he wore a gray scarf that hid the scales that had appeared on his neck as well.

Looking down on himself he wondered if his yellow shirt and black leather jacket were casual enough.

Yeah, probably. He was thinking too hard about this. Or not hard enough.

Breathing in through his nose and letting the air slowly out through slightly parted lips, he got out of his car. He could see his breath in the air in front of him. It has gotten pretty cold since he left his parents with the most valued things he had, including his pet snake, a few weeks ago.

With a faked confident walk as he squared his shoulders, he got closer to the glass door and stepped into the building.

He was extremely lucky, there were only three other people inside. Two women who worked there as the tellers and one man who was talking to the woman on the left, so Clyde went to the other teller on the right.

“Hello, sir. What can I help you with, today?” the brunette in the white blouse asked with a sweet smile.

Clyde put on as much charm as he could muster as he smiled back. “Hello there, I hope you're having a lovely day. I'm here to make a withdrawal.”

He was good at pretending to be a more likable person than he actually was. He always wanted to be an actor, but never went to any auditions for school plays because of his social status as one of the “cool kids” that smoked and drank alcohol behind the school. The entire thing was an act in his school days, but he was good at adapting to change.

“Very well, your name sir?”

“Oh, no.” He chuckled “I was under the impression that you just wanted to give it to me,” his smile widened a little.

The woman gave him an amused sound, taking it as a joke. Out of the corner of his eye, Clyde could see the other man leaving the bank. It was just him and the two tellers alone, now.

“Good one, sir, but this would be easier with a name,” The woman spoke with a chuckle. The other teller woman went into a back door and slipped away for the moment. Perfect.

“Well if you want to call me something, I think you could just go with Deceit,” He spoke with a calmness he wouldn’t have thought he could muster at this moment. He felt his hands shaking and start to sweat as he held down his nervousness.

The woman’s smile faltered a little. “Excuse me?”

Clyde looked back over her shoulder to make sure the other girl was really gone. Then, he looked back into the sweet face in front of him which got more confused by the second.

The perfect opportunity.

He looked in her deep blue eyes.

“You wanted to give me $50,000, right? That’s why I’m here.”

His left eye shimmered and glowed with a light yellow and he noticed the familiar sensation of an itch on his left forearm.

He still looked at the woman who stared back with a face he couldn’t quite put into place. It was nearly blank but still a little puzzled at his words.

That happened every time but he always felt the nervousness at that moment again and again. A million thoughts rushed into his head, like what if it didn’t work (again) or what if he phrased it wrong? Happens to the best, and this scenario was new to him.

This was the first time he did something really bad. Usually, he used his powers to get out of trouble for smaller things or to get free booze, but stealing $50,000 directly out of a bank, in bright daylight? That was insanity!

He had felt a weird sensation in his gut since he began ‘planning’ this. Honestly, this whole ‘rob a bank’ thing was an idea he and Remy had the night before while they were balls drunk in the basement of Rem’s parents. His parents that had no clue Clyde was even hiding there.

Rem was two years younger than him but was a pretty chill dude he had hung out with in school. He was the only one he could count on that wouldn’t snitch him out to anyone about his powers and where he was, because, well, he had powers too. Powers Remy’s parents weren’t very fond of, so they generally stayed away from the cellar.

The woman blinked as she awoke from a daze. The moment surely wasn’t longer than a second, but to Clyde, it felt like years.

The brunette locked eyes with him again and put her smile from the beginning back on.

“Of course, I remember now. It will only be a second, Mr. Deceit.”

--------

“Fuck! I did it!”

Clyde opened the basement door so fast he nearly broke it out of the old, rusty hinges. A very startled Remy, who looked like he had just been woken up, fought his way out of the blanket that had been lying on him.

He had been sleeping on his disgusting makeshift bed, which was made of just two stacked mattresses on top of the cold concrete ground. The basement looked like it should have been finished years ago but no one ever bothered to finish the job. At night, they took one of the mattresses off and slid it onto the floor next to the other so that Clyde didn’t have to sleep out on the bean bag. They had tried that the first night, but it resulted in a stiff back and a very grumpy Clyde in the morning.

Clyde-- er, Deceit moved a few steps forward, to click on the floor lamp that only had an old light bulb screwed on top and no lamp shade. The lightbulb was a normal, fluorescent bulb which somehow exclusively produced greenish light. Clyde had asked about that the second day he had stayed here but Remy too didn’t exactly know why either, not that he cared.

With the light, the messy room had become a little more visible. It was even dirtier than Clyde's old room had been, especially since he had moved in. They both didn’t really care enough to clean all the filthy clothes of the ground except when they ran out of fresh clothes, in which case Remy had to go upstairs with a decent sized pile that was unsuspicious to his parents since they didn’t have to know about Clyde’s existence in Remy’s room.

If they found out about the other kid with powers in their basement? That would mean massive trouble for both of them.

Remy’s guardians were already not on best terms with their son since he had intruded their dreams by accident on more than one occasion. They didn’t hate him but Remy had sometimes messed up their sleep so much that they were first confused what was happening, then they screamed at him to stop and at last, they started to get him out of the way.

He was ok with that. He was just in his basement room, enjoying his life without the worry that his parents would storm in.

But if they knew that he invited someone else to live at their house without their knowledge, they would be very mad. They would probably scream at him again and would call Clyde’s parents, even though he was actually old enough to live on his own, as a 19-year-old. Clyde just didn’t have the money to live on his own. He had been fired a few months ago from his job at the pet shop.

He had to leave his home weeks ago in order to hide his powers from his family as the scales became more and more obvious, so he came to the only one he knew that would at least understand.

It wasn’t much fun sleeping next to someone who had the ability to go into your dreams whenever both of them slept at the same time. Rem didn’t do it on purpose of course, the closer you sleep next to him the more likely it is that he just stumbles into your dream by accident. That's why he had to sleep in the basement, while his parents slept on the third floor. They simply wanted him as far away at night as possible.

What the two did all day now was lying around in the dirty cellar on the green bean bag and the mattresses and talked about everything and nothing. Somedays they played games on the old arcade machine Remy had or they had matches on his kicker, all while smoking pot or drinking beer Clyde brought back every time he went out.

But not this time. This time he brought something better. Money. And lots of it.

Remy tried focusing on the guy with the weird scales in front of him as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, “Wha-?”

Deceit ripped away the blanket and threw a full plastic bag him. It hit him in the chest, where you could read ‘Never SLEEP again’ on a gray shirt, and caused him to lay down again with the bag sitting on top of him.

“I said I did it! I actually did it, I stole the money!” Deceit stood proudly next to the ‘bed’, hands on his hips, with the broadest smile Remy had ever seen on the guy. It kinda creeped him out, to be honest.

Then the bank robber turned around into the direction of the old foosball table and lifted his arm triumphantly into the air and tilted his head back so he looked at the ceiling.

“Oh my god! I feel great! This was way better than drugs!” he screamed in euphoria.

Remy leaned up on his elbow and let the bag fall next to him on the bed.

“Flippin’ shut up, man! You're gonna wake the whole street shoutin’ like that.”

Deceit turned his head back to his friend, puzzled.

“It's 5 in the afternoon?”

“Oh really? I'm up early,” the sleepy head grinned.

Deceit made a face at him that could only have meant ‘you fu**king serious?’

Rem's eyes fell on the plastic bag next to him. With one hand he lifted a handle and looked inside. His eyes widened, only now had he realized what Deceit had actually done. He shot up straight on the mattress and put the bag on the ground so he could take a bundle of hundred dollar notes out. He ran a finger across the stop slowly as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

“Jesus Christ, you actually did it?!” he looked up shocked at the criminal who now faced him again. With the head movement, the green shade sunglasses that had apparently been lying on his purple dyed and messy hair the whole time he slept, fell onto his nose.

“Hell yeah, I did! And it was so easy too! Like stealing a lolly from a baby.”

The seventeen-year-old sitting on the mattresses gathered himself enough to get a little of his sass back.

“Cliché.” He looked back down to the pile of money. “Jeez, how much even is this?”

“50,000 bugs,” Dee’s eyes sparkled saying that.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, I can't believe it! I thought we were just joking around yesterday! We were drunk for fucks sake!”

Remy would have never thought that Clyde would actually do something this incredibly stupid. They just talked like idiots about how they could have anything they wanted if they used their powers more, not that he ever actually considered doing so.

“Come on, just imagine what we can do with that much money!” Deceit stepped closer to him, gesturing with his hands.

“With the stolen money.”

“No one knows that!”

“Babe, don't you think 50k will be missed? Where did you even get that from? The bank like we said?” he took his shades with his forefinger and thumb on the rim of the glasses and slid them down a bit so he could look into Deceit's eyes.

“Yeah and no, no one knows I took the money. I made sure the woman was the only one there and I just made her give it to me.”

“50k in cash. Someone will miss that! They’re going to notice that much missing! Did you think of the cameras?” Rem’s eyebrows furrowed as he put his shades back on properly.

“I do not like to repeat myself. She just handed it to me! It looks completely innocent on camera. And as far as she knows, that money belongs to me.”

Deceit got frustrated with his friend. Just the night before he also loved the idea and now he was lecturing him?!

“You can't keep the money here, babe. I'm not ok with that much stolen cash under my roof!”

“It will be gone soon anyway.” He tried again to reason. This was a good thing, why couldn’t he see it?

“You need to leave,” The voice sounded monotone.

Deceit’s shoulders fell. “What?”

“Clyde, sweetie, don’t get me wrong. I'm totally up for all kinds of stupid shit but that's a bit too far man and I really don't want to get in trouble because of you.”

“So, you're throwing me out?”

“You have enough money to rent a hotel room,” he said gesturing to the bag at his feet.

Deceit looked with disbelief into the green-tinted sunglasses that hid Remy’s emotions pretty well.

How could he just throw him out? He thought the other would be happy about the money. He would have even shared it with him for letting him stay here, but now…

He growled “Fine. I'll leave. I don't need you anymore anyway. I can do whatever I want without you. Just don't come crawling back to me when I'm ruling the city.”

“Sure thing rip-off Disney villain.”

“You've seen the last of me.”

With that Deceit took his luggage, bound the bag of money to it and lifted a small terrarium with Terrence in it under his arm and left the basement.

Remy let out a shaky breath into the stifling air of his room.

For a second there, he had been afraid that Clyde- no, Deceit would use his powers on him.

---- Chapter 3>>

[sign-from-god-complex]

Self-Control

Summary: The sound of footsteps pad across the landing above and though Virgil has come all this way he’s suddenly struck with the feeling that he’s not ready. It’s been 15 years since they’ve seen each other—so much can change in 15 years; so much has changed in 15 years.

Though, maybe things haven’t changed quite as much as Virgil thinks.

(AKA, a past-punk moxiety AU)

Pairing: Moxiety!

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, smoking, homophobia and nondescript injury. Vague allusions to past abuse (or at least mentions of terrible parental figures). Brief discussion of a parental figure having died.

AO3 Link

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It isn’t at all the place Virgil imagined for him. The flower pots all sit in a row on the steps, red ivy climbing up the fence like spider webs and a garden hose curled up on a perfectly manicured front lawn. Everything about it is picturesque—almost to the point of insanity—and as a butterfly floats by and lands delicately on a ladder leaning onto the fence from the backyard, Virgil wonders what in the world could have changed Patton so drastically to have led to this.

There’s an image, in his head, of teenage rebellion—of 2 am milkshakes and stolen bicycles, of broken glass and laughter, so much laughter, as they took advantage of what time they had left to live. It doesn’t fit in with this pastel blue sky in this pastel blue neighbourhood full of pastel blue people but he knew that it wouldn’t. He knew things would be different.

Though, that doesn’t make it all that much easier to comprehend.

Vaguely, Virgil hears the sound of excited squeals coming from the yard and he ducks his head over the fence just a bit, catching sight of a young girl flying off of a trampoline at a hundred miles an hour—hair a mess and grin bright.

The kid must be Patton’s—it’s unmistakable, that dark skin and reckless look, like she’s ready to take the world on at any moment—and Virgil can’t help but remember the nights the two of them spent drinking and talking and vowing to never tie themselves down to anyone or anything. 

He supposes no one really does know what they want when they’re young.

It takes Virgil a while to gather up the courage to knock—he’s all too aware of his leather jacket and patches, his dyed hair and piercings. He couldn’t feel more out of place in this suburban neighbourhood and he hadn’t thought that around Patton he could ever feel out of place.

In the end, though, the choice is taken out of his hands. The young girl throws open the door, clearly looking to haul ass across the street to the park—the kind of place he and Pat would have smoked, once upon a time—but is stopped short as she notices Virgil standing in her way. There’s a moment where he’s afraid she’s going to scream or cry or something else he would have no clue how to deal with but instead, she just grins cheekily.

“Dad!” she yells, barely turning her head to face the soft white interior of the house, “There’s a man here for you!”

The sound of footsteps pad across the landing above and for a moment Virgil is so afraid that he’s gotten the wrong house or that Patton won’t want to see him and though he’s come all this way he’s struck with the feeling that he’s not ready. It’s been 15 years since they’ve seen each other; so much can change in 15 years.

“Riley, what do you mean? What ma-”

And then, there he is.

His face is void of any of the makeup he used to wear, his hair faded from turquoise to its natural black and left curly in a way he wouldn’t have been caught dead with once. And, over the top of a graphic t-shirt displaying some characters Virgil doesn’t recognise and unripped light-wash jeans, Patton had thrown a familiar blue flannel.

Virgil remembers that flannel, worn under heavy coats to help fight the evening windchill, tied around Patton’s waist as they scaled fences just to see if they could and left in a pile on the floor in his room as they finally escaped back to comfort and warmth. Honestly, he’s just surprised it still fits.

Patton does nothing but stare at him for a moment, his lips parted in shock and his eyes big and wide and god, looking at him now is like falling in love all over again.

“Virge?” he breathes, a melody of disbelief in his voice. Virgil can’t exactly blame him—it isn’t as if he’s someone Patton was expecting to see.

Virgil rubs over the fabric of his jacket, a nervous tick he’d had even back then. “Hey, uh… surprise?”

And in an instant, has Patton pitched forward right into his arms. Virgil catches him—of course, he catches him, he’ll always catch him—and Patton laughs, displaying some level of joy Virgil hadn’t known he’d needed to hear until now. He can feel Patton breathing against his neck as they hold each other and, distantly, the sound of light footsteps echoes away and up the stairs.

They pull apart, eventually, the separation like trying to peel a sticker off of a concrete wall—the easiest kind of graffiti to enact while still being tricky to remove. The distance Patton puts between them seems almost reluctant and Virgil wishes he had the courage to tell him to stay.

“What are you doing here?” Patton asks. It’s soft, like the white fuzzy carpet of his new home and Virgil realises suddenly he’d been so caught up in him that he’d forgotten that this him wasn’t the same.

Patton had always been soft but not soft like this. He’d been soft in redirected conversation and distractions, in Virgil’s favourite TV show on in the background and stolen chocolate bars in his pocket, guiding hands mimicking steady breathing. This Patton seems soft around the edges—worn down, almost—and Virgil feels those 15 years as more of a lifetime.

He doesn’t answer the question—truthfully because he’s not sure how, not sure where to start with the mess of events and near-misses and regrets that finally brought him here to Patton’s doorstep—and instead replies with one of his own. 

“My mom died. Did you know that?” It’s a stupid thing to ask, they hadn’t spoken to each other in 15 years, there was no way he could have known. Virgil asks it all the same though. “I have her money now. Didn’t write me out of the will even after everything we went through. Guess she didn’t want how much she hated me and my “lifestyle” to come out even after she’d kicked it.”

Patton just looks at him. There’s something sad in his eyes, maybe, something regretful or sympathetic, something holding years worth of apologies and love confessions in not so many words that every night they'd pretended they hadn’t said.

Maybe not, he isn’t sure. He’s never been very good with stuff like that. 

“You owe me a party,” Virgil continues impulsively. Patton grins and shakes his head and the urge to kiss him is so strong for a moment Virgil can’t breathe. “You promised me when she was dead and I didn’t have to worry about her anymore we’d have a party. With cheerio sausages and expensive liquor and-”

“Sparkling juice and bad karaoke,” Patton interrupts, “I remember.”

Nobody speaks. Patton doesn’t invite him in and Virgil doesn’t ask for fear of being turned away. 

He knows there’s an element of worship in the way he looks at Patton. It’s worship like the way farmers pray for rain in a drought, worship like how sailors are drawn to the rough turn of the sea and worship like teens relishing in the night when they’re bored and alone and angry, yearning for freedom that only comes in years they feel they don’t have left.

But now, dark eyes gazing at him and breath catching in his throat, Virgil thinks maybe he isn’t the only one who feels it.

“I have a kid now, you know?” Patton asks and Virgil knows instantly that question isn’t about the party but everything that comes after it—all of the hundreds of possibilities that stem from this decision that neither of them can quite voice out loud, “Single parent. I made a lot of bad choices in those 15 years—gave myself away to a few people who didn’t deserve it, maybe—but she’s… helped. I want to be better for her.”

Virgil nods. It’s a little hard to reconcile teenage Patton with this one but he tries anyway. He has to; he owes him that much.

(In truth, he owes him so, so much more than that but right now this is all he feels he can give.)

“Yeah, uh, Riley, right? Seems like a sweet kid, if not a bit mischievous.” Virgil smirks slightly, somewhere between teasing and nostalgic. “Kind of like you were.” 

At that, Patton grins and he laughs and it feels right—feels like early morning rainfall and crackling log fires, like the burning in your lungs as you run and the way your eyes slowly drift shut against your will when you’re up too late, like every ending and beginning in just a moment. 

He shakes his head again, almost affectionately chastising and there’s a stuttering of Virgil’s hand as he goes to reach out, to brush a strand of hair away from Patton’s face but stops himself halfway through.

Patton doesn’t seem to notice. Virgil once thought Patton never noticed—never saw the longing in his eyes and the flushed red of his cheeks as they sat side-by-side on a park bench in the middle of winter, running from the heat of harsh words and high expectations.

He wonders if maybe that was naive. 

“Well, I’ve gotta make sure to raise her right,” Patton jokes and his smile is amused—fond and familiar like the worn leather of Virgil’s jacket between his fingers, “If she’s not questioning authority and getting me called down to the office at least once a term then I’m doing something wrong.”

With that, there’s a flash—just a moment—of principal visits and angry rants, of cutting class to sit with the other in the silence of the school office and knowing, that outside of the two of them, there was no one else to come. And he thinks of Patton—this Patton, not his Patton—taking up the empty space of that office with kind reassurances and defensive words, protecting and protecting and protecting, fighting for Riley the way he had Virgil.

Parenthood suits Patton more than he’d first thought, perhaps.

“Ah, office visits.” Virgil nods sagely and can’t resist the quirk of his lips as Patton giggles. “A hallmark of a punk child. Next thing you know she’ll be dyeing her hair, running off to the park in the middle of the night to meet up with boys.”

It’s obviously a joke but still, Patton quietens, taking on a more contemplative look. It seems as if he’s remembering something and Virgil needs, all at once, to make sure he’s more to Patton than simply that expression on his face in the midst of just another day.

“Yeah,” Patton finally says, “Yeah, she was thinking purple actually.”

Virgil doesn’t reach up and drag a hand through his own purple hair but it’s a near thing. He hums—soft and low. “Good taste.”

A heavy silence rings in his ears—an echo of all the memories they share and all the memories they don’t, a collision of black and pastel blue on a canvas already painted with teenage angst and first love—and Virgil can't stand the way it feels like it may be too much to overcome. It isn't; he won't let it be.

He takes a step closer and Patton doesn’t move away, just lets Virgil crowd him against the doorframe till their chests are pressed together and each shuddering breath is a joint effort.

“I’d like to get to know her. If you’ll let me,” he murmurs and he’s so close that he can hear Patton’s heartbeat pick up as he slides a hand up to brush at the strands of hair against Virgil’s neck.

The air between them is tense and pulled tight—gazes tracing over freckles and foundation, their skin warm with each point of contact and the rushing of blood in Virgil’s ears drowning out the pounding of his heart. Each second that goes by without comment feels to Virgil like sinking into quicksand, like fingers losing their grip on the edge of a building and threatening to let him fall.

But, before he can draw away, throw up his walls and stumble his way through apologies like they’re nothing more than kids again, Patton tugs him forward and, softly, he brings their lips together.

The kiss is a teenage fantasy come true, the culmination of every moment—under streetlights or under blankets or under nothing more than the cover of night itself—where Virgil longed to reach out and tell Patton that he wanted to kiss him until the world faded away and all that he could focus on was the taste of cherry red lipstick and the joy and love pounding in his chest like a second heartbeat.

It's the comfort in late-night knocking, Patton taking Virgil in and patching him up and holding him as he cries because he has a mother that doesn’t love him and a father that’s always absent and a world that doesn’t care, muttered reassurances a quiet backdrop to his sobs.

It's the warmth in drinking their way through meagre retail paychecks, Patton’s soft touches like fire against his skin and the thread of restraint holding Virgil back from blurting out a love confession worn down to something as thin as a spiderweb and just as delicate.

It's the exhilaration in grocery store runs with no money and bags filled with spray paint cans, their gloved hands clasped tight as they race against the biting evening wind, giving in to the urge to let out a cry of victory that bounces off the empty alley walls.

So, yes, it’s the culmination of years of pining but it’s more than that too. It’s an apology, it’s acceptance and it’s an offer of a future, to stay here with them. 

“I think I’d like that,” Patton gasps as he pulls away and Virgil’s so enamoured even after all these years that he barely knows what to say, “For you to know her, I mean. She’d like you. She’s like you, or at least the way you used to be—always a bit loose with self-control.”

Virgil doesn’t tell Patton that all his self-control had been going towards keeping himself from telling him he loved him. He doesn’t think he’d know how.

Slowly, Virgil blinks and he nods and it’s all he can do to keep himself standing as Patton beams up at him with a smile reminiscent of stars colliding—bright and beautiful enough to take his breath away. And suddenly Virgil feels like maybe he can fit in here, that maybe he can fit in anywhere he needs to if Patton keeps looking at him like that.

He smiles back, smaller than the one he’d received but the way Patton’s eyes light up makes Virgil feel like maybe that doesn’t really matter. “Okay, yeah. I want that; I want to stay.”

“Okay,” Patton parrots and he’s barely holding back giggles, Virgil can tell. It’s okay though because he feels it too—that sense of happiness and disbelief that has almost no other way to present itself—and giving in feels more like an inevitability.

So, laughing and hands joined together, Patton pulls Virgil inside to the soft white of his suburban home. And he closes the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @sandersships @camcam774 @autism-goblin @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @rainboots-are-for-snobs @welpweregonnadie @spirits-in-my-thoughts @hold-my-hat @goodandbadisallmadeupnonsense @stop-it-anxiety @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @poisonedapples @sanders-screams @another-sandersidesblog @do-not-just-see-observe @mychemicalpanicattheemo @harleyquinnamiright @localtransgrape @fandomsofrandom @gattonero17 @airiervessel @ollyollyoxinfree @tired-and-probably-crying .

[tricksters-captain]

Roman Sionis / Victor Zsasz imagines - Make You Forget

AN: I gave up towards the end I’m sorry!! I hope you still like it though!!

Overall Summary: You just started working for Roman Sionis and once he and his partner take notice of you, everyone knows you’re in trouble. After being broke up with, Roman takes his chance...

Pairing(s): Roman Sionis x Fem!Reader x Victor Zsasz

Word count: 3,397

Warnings: Smut. Threesome. Strong language. Submissive reader. 

“New girls. We open in ten minutes. Ground rules...” A older woman who had interviewed you for this gig gathered you and two other girls in front of the bar. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as she looked down at a notepad in her arms. Were the other girls this nervous for their first shift too?

“...First rule, smile; look pretty. If you smile, you’re approachable, you keep the atmosphere happy, happy customers buy more drinks. Sell as much as you can; how well you do at selling drinks equals whether you’re good enough to stay. You have a month trial for this. If anything happens during the night to do with Mr. Sionis, you do not react or leave or question it. If Mr. Sionis wants you for whatever reason, you say yes. You do not speak to any cops, detectives or journalists without my permission and my permission comes when I get permission off Mr. Sionis for you. It’s sink or swim here, ladies. I suggest you grab your life jacket and try to swim.” 

You couldn't say you were surprised at the rules. This was Roman Sionis’s club and Roman was known for his temper and mob deals.

“Appearance is also important. Make an effort. This is one of Gotham’s top clubs, not a goodwill.” You felt her judgemental eyes scan you over which prompted you to go to the bathroom before the doors opened finally. 

You tightened your ponytail and took out your eyeliner pencil and lipstick to top up your makeup. 

Your uniform was revealing and very uncomfortable. A metal-like frame hovered over your short skirt and nude colour top and you could tell you’d have to get used it to quickly in order to not stand out. You pulled at the fabric to try and cover you a bit more but it didn’t do much. 

“You ready, girl?” One of the other new girls smiled at you as she too fixed her appearance in the mirror.

“Here’s to working for Roman Sionis.” You exhaled with a forced smile before you both left the restroom. 

You couldn’t help but celebrate as the month came to an end and your name was one of the top positions on the girls board in the break room at the club. 

All the girls who served at the club had a leaderboard for who could make the most sales (just for some healthy competition) and so that your manager could kick the ass of whoever wasn’t pulling their weight. 

“Damn girl. Took me at least three months to make top 5 girls.” One of the more experienced employees approached you and slung her arm around your shoulders as you looked up at the board. 

“Guess I’m just naturally talented.” You smirked playfully, 

“You mean just insanely gorgeous.” She winked at you but you just rolled your eyes at her compliment. 

“I gotta head home. Anniversary to celebrate.” You pulled your bag onto your shoulder and zipped up your coat. 

“Have fun.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you and you responded by lightly pushing her shoulder as you also wondered about the dirty thoughts in both of your minds.

It was your three year anniversary with your boyfriend and even thought things had been hard, you were actually quite excited. 

It didn’t take long to get across the east end of Gotham to your apartment but by the time you opened the front door, you expected to be greeted by your boyfriend, he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. 

You frowned, slumping your bag onto the floor and kicking your shoes from your aching feet. 

“Chris?” You called out, placing your keys and phone onto the countertop before getting a glass from the cupboard for some water. 

Suddenly, you could hear whispers and scuffling around in the bedroom. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You sighed, placing the glass onto the side as you mentally prepared yourself for what you already knew you were about to see. 

“Could you have been a cheating asshole on the day that wasn’t our anniversary?!” You stormed through the door to see Chris pulling his shorts up his thighs. 

“What are you talking about?” Chris looked up at you as he tied the drawstrings. 

“Don’t act dumb.” You opened the door to the closet to see a half naked girl. There wasn't many other places to hide in the small bedroom.

“Get out.” You ordered her to move as you reached for your suitcase.

“I’m sorry––” The girl was quick to leave the room and the apartment. 

“What are you doing, (Y/n)?” Your boyfriend tried to approach you but you swung around, shooting him daggers as tears built in your eyes. 

“What are you doing, Chris?!” You snapped. “Because I’m leaving. Now.”

“Fine! I’m sure you’re earning plenty with Roman Sionis’s as your boss... So, maybe it’s time for you to move out.” 

“Yeah! Maybe it is!” You retorted. 

You almost winced at the way he said Roman’s name like it was almost dirty to work at the Black Mask Club. 

“You know, I knew things weren’t right between us but I didn’t expect you to bring a girl home to our bed in our apartment, Chris.” You admitted as you rushed to gather your things.

“Don’t act so innocent, (Y/n). You work for Roman Sionis in that god awful club.” 

“Yes! I work for Roman Sionis but I haven’t slept with him!” You were enraged that he would even dare say something like that to you. 

You reached for your phone, tossing the keys from the counter at your boyfriends head as you made your way out.

You were fortunate that you didn’t have to work the following day but you knew you'd be back soon enough and you considered if you could even cope with facing crowds of men. 

The breakup hit you fully when you laid down that night on your friends’ couch. You tossed and turned as you replayed the relationship in your head, torturing yourself until the light streamed through the blinds and filled the apartment. 

“You look like shit. What happened?” Was the first thing said to you when you walked back into the club. 

“Me and Chris broke up.” You managed to say. 

You knew you looked a mess. Your eyes were puffy and ringed with dark circles. Your hair hung down where it would usually up and styled for a shift to keep it out of your face. 

You glanced at the rota as the girls tried to hug and comfort you but you only felt worse when you saw what duty you were on. 

“Kate, can you swap with me just for tonight? I can’t bare with being a ring girl tonight.” You cringed at the hoop tray that hung up on the wall. 

“No problem.” She sent a weak smile your way with sympathy in her eyes. You tried to return it before you started to apply makeup which didn’t manage hide how rough you looked. 

You ran your hands through your hair trying to add some volume but gave up after hearing your manager yell for you to get out on the floor. 

“Here. You need it.” One of the girls passed you a shot before you left to go to the door and you downed it gratefully; holding onto the burning taste

You felt even more uncomfortable in your uniform that night since you knew you weren’t looking up to standard. 

You were grateful that you’d only be clearing tables and taking the occasional orders rather than prancing around in the hoop but it wasn’t even halfway into your shift when you started to let your mask slip. 

You ran your hand through your hair and sighed deeply as you made your way through a crowd with a tray of empty used glasses. 

You regretted not keeping your eyes up when you felt yourself hit something, sending you and the glasses to the floor. 

“Shit.” You cursed as shattering glass scattered everywhere and bringing everyone’s attention to you.  

Your head shot up as you apologised, praying you didn’t bump into anyone important when you met eyes with Victor Zsasz, of all people. 

“Shit.” You let the word escape under your breath as your eyes went wide. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Roman rounded Zsasz from the booth he was sat in and starred down at you. 

“Mr Sionis. Mr Zsasz. I am so sorry. It’s my fault.” You rambled as you rushed to pick up the shards of glass. 

Roman starred down at you with a studious look as you hissed, cutting your hard on a large piece of glass.

He recognised your face as he had noticed you before (which was rare with his workers). Within the first two weeks, the girls had warned you that Roman and Zsasz had been watching you as you worked. You just excused it as him watching you to see if you were doing a good job as his new waitress but even you had to admit getting attention from an attractive man like Roman was flattering. 

“Oh mistakes happen! Darren! Get a broom and a mop! Get this glass off the floor so we can all continue dancing!” Roman’s bright smile returned to his face as he put on his show. The bartender, Darren, didn’t waste anytime doing as he was told. 

“Come here, little bird.” Roman took hold of the hand you hadn’t injured and brought you off your knees. “Now go back and deal with that nasty little cut you’ve got there. I’ll send Mr Zsasz to check on you.” Roman beamed at you. 

“I’m really sorry, sir.” Your skin was on fire as Roman cupped your hand with both of his. 

You tried to best to get to the back room as fast as you could where Dinah helped you with your hand. 

“I’m so dead. I can’t lose this job.” You felt as if you were going to break down and cry again. Could more go wrong?

“You’re a top girl. If anything you’ll get a slap on the wrist and a warning.” Dinah didn’t sound too convincing as her eyes flickered up to yours.

“Or I’ll get knife across the wrist.” You were panicked by the fact that Roman said he’d send Zsasz back to check on you. He was Roman’s right hand man and you had heard all about his adulation for knives. 

“Knock knock.” Zsasz appeared in the doorway, his shoulder leant against the frame while he looked down at the both of you. 

“Mr Zsasz––” You jumped to your feet but he was quick to interrupt. 

“––Roman wants to talk with you upstairs.” 

You felt your stomach drop and all you could do was bob your head ‘yes’. 

Zsasz lead you back out onto the floor with a nod of his head to follow. 

You walked through the crowded club to a backdoor which you knew was the stairs to Roman’s apartment above. 

You peered over your shoulder to see Roman meet Zsasz’s eyes and nod his head all the whilst speaking with one of your coworkers by his usual booth. 

Fuck.

“Take a seat.” Zsasz licked his lips as he too sat down on one of the sofas. 

You sat down on one of the empty couches and tried your hardest to slow your heart to avoid a panic attack. 

Zsasz’s eyes seem to burn through you like Roman’s touch did.

“Miss (Y/n) (Y/L/N).” Roman’s voice coerced your eyes away from your hands and straight to the man himself as he sauntered in. “My girls seem to like you a whole lot. Practically begging me not to fire you. Not that I’d dream of it. You make me a lot of money, Miss (Y/L/N). Not to mention that I am a fair man.” Roman spoke as he walked down the hall toward you and Zsasz. 

“One of the little birdies told me that you aren’t exactly having a great time right now; couch surfing, long term boyfriend cheating on you.” 

“How did you?” You already knew the answer. The girls downstairs told him hoping he’d cut you some slack. 

“See what I don’t understand is, why any man would throw such a sweet face out onto the street?” Roman approached you, lifting your chin with his gloved finger. You couldn’t tell if you were even breathing at this point.

“I––”

“––Shhh.” Roman hushed you, “Don’t you worry anymore, little bird. I’m here to make it all better.” Roman crouched down, running his finger up your jaw to your cheek. 

Zsasz smirked as he watched.

“Mr Sionis.” You started, 

“Call me Roman. Please.” Roman’s finger dropped to your plump lips. His eyes watched as his name glided off your tongue. 

“Roman. I don’t know what’s...” You could barely speak with Roman being so close. His smell was intoxicating and his touch was electric. 

“It’s okay, little bird.” Roman repeated his actions from the club where he took hold of your hand and brought you to your feet. 

You couldn’t look away from his eyes. A blue like nothing you’d seen before, only highlighted more by the thin dark liner. 

“This can’t be comfortable. Let’s take it off.” Roman’s fingers brushed over your the cage of uniform. 

Roman waved Zsasz over with a spin of his finger and soon Zsasz was behind you pulling off the metal overskirt and top off your body. 

You were then left in your nude-coloured undershirt and skirt stood in-between Victor Zsasz and Roman Sionis. 

“Tell me, little bird. Do you find Mr. Zsasz, here, and I handsome?” Roman has a mischievous look his eye as he watched you. His tone was playful and it only excited you further.

Your mouth was completely dry as you struggled to find the right words to answer.  

“She does, Boss. I caught her watching you just last night.” Zsasz stepped closer to you, brushing your hair off your neck as he placed his chin above your shoulder, smiling at his boss. 

“Is that right, Mr. Zsasz?” Roman step forward himself. 

“That’s right.” Zsasz’s laugh rang in your ear as he answered.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back slightly as your chest rose and fell whilst your heart raced. 

“Well I think we should help our (Y/n) here forget about that stupid old boyfriend. What do you think, Victor?” Roman suggested, 

“Please.” You were almost shocked that the words left with your breath.

Roman chuckled at the unexpected answer but didn’t waste anytime. 

He circled his finger once again at Zsasz and stood back.

Zsasz’s lips brushed against the back of your shoulder causing a shiver to ripple across your body. 

He sucked and nipped along your neck as you leant into his body. Your hand automatically reaching up and wrapping around the back of his neck to bring him even closer.

Zsasz kept his hands on your hips, his nails digging into the skin through the thin material of the skirt. 

You could feel how hard he was against your ass as he held onto you. 

Within minutes, your skin was then enflamed by a different touch. 

Roman placed his hands on your waist, above Zsasz’s. He brought the both of you closer as he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath hot on your cheeks. 

“Now that’s a good girl.” Roman purred as he admired how you looked giving into Zsasz’s touch. 

Roman guided your hands away from Zsasz and brought them to his own bulge. 

Your eyes snapped open to see the lust dark in Roman’s eyes. 

You leaned forward, kissing Roman with a desperation. 

Zsasz let you move forward, letting you go just to rip the back of your shirt and skirt, leaving you in your underwear.

You rushed to unbuckle Roman’s belt and dug your fingers into his boxers, taking hold of him. 

Roman deepened the kiss, hungry for more. 

 As you went to pull down the man’s pants, he suddenly spun you around.  

You gasped at the sudden change but willingly reached towards Zsasz who had slowly started to unbutton his shirt as he watched you and Roman. You finished the job by pulling it down his arms, his lips on yours immediately after. 

You moaned into the man’s mouth as his tongue explored yours. 

Roman’s hands slithered round your stomach and cupped you, rubbing the wetness of your panties and smirking against your neck. 

“Victor.” Roman pulled away, pushing his hair back off his flushed face as he caught his breath. 

Zsasz took the hint and kicked off his pants, pawing himself through his boxers as he took your hand and walked slowly backwards towards the bedroom. 

Roman poured himself a small glass of whiskey and threw it back as he followed you both. 

The minute you stepped inside, Zsasz backed you up against the wall, pinning your wrists above your head as he rubbed himself against you. The delicious friction almost enough to make you cum on the spot. 

Roman placed his glass down on the bedside table and the sound seemed to send a signal to Zsasz as he pulled from the wall and pushed you down onto the bed. 

You fell back, starring up at the men still stood above you. 

Your stomach fluttered as you saw the desire in their eyes and their erect members poking through their boxers. 

“She was your pick, boss.”  Zsasz looked between you and Roman. 

Roman's eyes devoured your body before he joined you on the bed. 

His lips fought against yours as you both kneeled up on the mattress. 

Zsasz placing himself behind you again.

“Enough.” Roman growled as you pumped his cock with your hand. 

He forcefully turned you onto your stomach, your ass facing the man and your face in line with Zsasz’s waist. 

“Fuck.” Roman cursed as he slid his tip against your slit, his cock twitching against your wetness.

You exhaled a shaky breath as he pressed himself against your entrance, stretching you out slowly. 

“What a naughty little bird.”  Zsasz cooed as his hands tangled themselves in your hair, raising your head to look at him. 

Zsasz removed his length from his boxers, he wrapped his hand around it and brought his tip to your lips. 

“Is the naughty little birdie gonna be a good girl?” He asked as his pre-cum wetting your bottom lip. 

You closed your eyes tight as Roman began to pump in and out of you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. He groaned at how tight you were around him. 

“Good, Boss?” Zsasz teased his boss’s moans with a thick smirk on his lips.

You took that moment to lick up Zsasz’s tip. 

But Zsasz didn’t like teasing. 

He thrusted your head forward with his hands in your hair. 

You didn't object as you took his member into your mouth. 

“Fuu...” Zsasz closed his eyes as you began to suck. 

You let pleasure overtake you as Roman picked up his pace, you matched his pace to Zsasz and soon you were all a sweaty, panting mess. 

Roman slapped your ass as you pulsed around him and let out a loud growl. 

Roman’s thrusts were getting so fast and a rough you had to take Zsasz from your mouth and use your hand. 

Roman rolled you over and propped one of your legs up onto his shoulder. 

You looked up at Zsasz as he placed a thumb in your mouth, hooking your cheek as you pumped his cock above your face. 

Roman grew sloppy as he neared his end and you cursed as you too came undone. 

Zsasz finished before Roman, cumming into your mouth as he threw his head back.

It didn’t take long for Roman to spill his seed onto your stomach as he pulled free. 

“That’s our dirty girl.” Roman held your chin between his thumb and fingers as he praised you. 

Zsasz left and returned with a towel as Roman pulled his pyjama trousers on over his naked half. 

“Here.” Roman handed you a yellow pyjamas shirt that seemingly had his face printed on it. “Mr Zsasz please take our little bird to the shower so that she can get cleaned up.” 

[august-anon]

Complete Masterpost (as of 12/09/2020)

Here is a complete rebloggable masterpost of all my works sorted by fandom. Beneath the fandoms, they are sorted in order of when I posted them. You can also find these on ao3 under august_anon, or on the Masterpost Page on my blog (which is sorted better tbh). Thanks for reading my works!

Total Works: 126

Avatar: The Last Airbender

(’20) Tickletober Day 3 - Stocks - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Aang, Ler!Sokka, Katara, Toph, Zuko - What else is Aang supposed to do when he finds a set of stocks in an abandoned town? NOT see if he could fit in them? 1151 words

(’20) Tickletober Day 9 - Ganged Up On - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Zuko, Ler!Aang, Toph, Katara, Sokka - They'd been plotting all week, and it was driving Zuko insane. The actual reason turned out a lot more innocent than Zuko was worried about. 713 words

Boku No Hero Acadamia (My Hero Acadamia)

(’20) Tickletober Day 18 - Holding It In - [ao3] - EraserMic - Lee!Aizawa/Ler!Yamada - Hizashi demands Husband Cuddles on their day off, but Shouta is being difficult. Luckily, Hizashi knows how to get his way. 799 words

Detroit: Become Human

(’20) Tickletober Day 16 - Massage - [ao3] - RK1000 - Lee!Connor/Ler!Markus - The new software patch has come through, and androids can now feel sensations a lot more similarly to humans. Markus plans to use this to treat his overworked boyfriend to a massage, but things don't quite go as planned. 1770 words

Gravity Falls

(’20) Tickletober Day 1 - Unusual Spot - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Dipper, Ler!Mabel - Mabel not-so-accidentally reveals one of Dipper's tickle spots. 610 words

(’20) Tickletober Day 13 - Wake Up! - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Dipper, Mable, Ler!Stan - Stan may have difficulty recalling anything now, but at least he knows the kids will be a constant. 1691 words

Miraculous Ladybug

(’20) Tickletober Day 15 - Stuck - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Adrien, Ler!Marinette - Thanks to a little yo-yo malfunction, Ladybug finds out something very interesting about her partner. 989 words

(’20) Tickletober Day 17 - Revenge - [ao3] - Gen - Switch!Marinette, Switch!Adrien - In Marinette's humble opinion, this was one of the most ridiculous scenarios she could imagine them finding out each other's identities. 799 words

Sanders Sides(/Cartoon Therapy)

Still Got It - [ao3] - Prinxiety - Lee!Virgil/Ler!Roman - Roman is frustrated that he's never heard Virgil laugh. Logan presents a solution. Turns out, after all these years, Virgil is still ticklish. 2350 words

You Brought The Laughter Back - [ao3] - Prinxiety - Lee!Roman/Ler!Virgil - Virgil may not have the experience Roman has, but his fingers definitely work magic, if Roman's reactions are anything to go by. 2170 words

I’m Not Ticklish - [ao3] - Logince - Lee!Logan/Ler!Roman -  Logan has had a thing for tickling as long as he could remember, and he’s rather good at hiding it. It only takes one slip-up for Roman to find out and make his fantasies come true. 5588 words

Calorie Counting - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Patton -  Roman is struggling with his new system of trying to lose weight. Luckily, Patton is always there for him. 1496 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 1 - Feather - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Logan, Ler!Patton, Roman, Virgil -  Someone's been sneak-tickling Logan, and he's determined to find out who. 727 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 2 - Fingers - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Logan, Ler!Patton -  Logan is ever so rudely awoken from his nap. 278 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 3 - Unusual Spots - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Patton, Ler!Roman -Roman finds a rather unusual method of warming his hands, leading to the discovery of a rather unusual spot for Patton to be ticklish. 278 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 4 - Stocks - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Logan - Roman agreed to help Logan with some of his "experiments." He would never admit how much he loved it. 864 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 5 - Tools - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Logan -  It's Virgil's turn to help with an experiment, and he's getting a little impatient waiting for what he truly wants. 684 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 6 - Gang Tickling - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Logan, Roman, Patton -  Virgil's been in a certain kind of mood for a number of days, now. It's a shame no one's noticed enough to take advantage of it. 674 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 7 - Light Tickles - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Logan, Ler!Virgil -Logan isn't sleeping. Again. Luckily, Virgil has a remedy. 461 words 

(’19) Tickletober Day 8 - Hard Tickles - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Patton, Ler!Logan -  Patton really wants to be wrecked. Logan is happy to oblige. 455 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 9 - “I’m not ticklish” - [ao3] - Prinxiety - Lee!Roman/Ler!Virgil -  Roman insists he's not ticklish. Virgil insists that's impossible. What else is there to do except test it out? 446 word

(’19) Tickletober Day 10 - Arms Up - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Patton - Virgil did ask for this, after all. Now all he needed to do was actually hold out. 218 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 11 - Sneak Attack - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Patton, Ler!Logan -  Patton is really much more sneaky than anyone gives him credit for. They really should start expecting it by this point. 233 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 12 - Unusual Tool - [ao3] - Royality - Lee!Patton/Ler!Roman - A not-so-peaceful moment together of doing chores leads to the discovery of a new possible tool of torment for Roman and Patton. 269 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 13 - Feet - [ao3] -  Virgil can finally get his revenge on Patton for all the tickling, with the help of a few little piggies. 289 words

(’19) Tickletober 14 - Favorite Spot - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Roman, Patton, Logan -  It was no secret that everyone in the mindpalace had their favorite spots, whether to tickle or be tickled. The rare thing was that, for one specific side, the favorite for everyone was unanimous. 194 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 15 - Cuddles - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Logan, Ler!Virgil, Patton, Roman - Logan's been overworking himself and refuses to relax, even when everyone forces him to take a break. Luckily, his fellow sides know just what to do. 661 words

Work of Art - [ao3] - Logince - Lee!Logan/Ler!Roman -  Roman just really wants to paint on his super attractive boyfriend. Logan, surprisingly (or not so surprisingly), is very willing. 1357 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 16 - Tickly Kiss - [ao3] - Moxiety - Lee!Patton/Ler!Virgil -  Patton's having one of his "bad for no reason" days. Luckily, Virgil always seems to know what to do. 578 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 17 - Tickle Fight - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Patton, Ler!Roman, Virgil, Patton -  Virgil wasn't sure how it started, but he was going to try his hardest not to lose. 211 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 18 - Chase - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Patton, Virgil, Logan -  Roman may have wanted it, but he certainly wasn't going to make it easy for them. 194 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 19 - Stuck - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Patton -  Roman probably should've thought this through before he did it... 242 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 20 - Hysterical - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Logan, Ler!Virgil -  It's Virgil's turn to experiment. He wants to know what it takes to make Logan hysterical. 343 words

The Attack of the Garra Rufa - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Patton, Ler!Roman -  Roman recently acquired a new spellbook and he is very excited to test out the new spells inside. 712 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 21 - Accidental - [ao3] - Logicality - Lee!Patton/Ler!Logan -  Logan didn't mean to brush against Patton's side, but he definitely didn't expect the reaction it produced. What did Patton expect him to do when he realized the mind palace's tickle monster was ticklish? NOT tickle him? 642 words

(’19) Tickletober Day 22 - Tickly Massage - [ao3] - Logince - Lee!Logan/Ler!Roman - Logan's been overworking again, which was causing his back pain to flare up again. Roman comes by to make sure he has a break. 994 words

We’ll Be Here, Always - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Patton, Ler!Logan, Virgil, Roman -  Patton can't always be happy, as much as he loathed to admit it. Sometimes he had bad days. Sometimes, those bad days had no rhyme or reason or cause. Luckily, his family's always there to support him. 5039 words

Could Use a Laugh - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Patton -  Patton's got his hands on Roman's new spell book. He can't wait to put it to use! His first target? A grumpy little side who could use a little more laughter in his life. 1063 words

The Prettiest Monster - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Virgil -  All Roman wanted was to teach Patton makeup. He didn't expect to be playfully attacked in response. 1054 words

Feathery Feet - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Roman -  Roman has decided it's his turn to play with his new tickle spells on the mind palace's favorite emo. 664 words

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Bright - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Patton, Ler!Logan -  Logan knows that Patton is plotting on coming for him next with those silly new spells. He figures the best way to counter that is by getting him first. 892 words

It’s Christmas, Wake Up! - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Roman, Logan, Ler!Patton -  Patton thinks his fellow sides are taking a little too long to wake up, and he's ready to start the day's festivities. Luckily, he has the perfect idea for getting them out of bed. 1224 words

Even Santa’s Elves Need Naps - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Patton, Ler!Roman -  Patton's been attempting to take on the monumental task of planning and setting up Christmas all on his own. Roman has decided he needs a break, and maybe a good laugh. 751 words

Dancing Around the Issue - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Logan -  They were supposed to be rehearsing. It wasn't Roman's fault he was so ticklish. 1665 words

Prince Feathersword - [ao3] - Logince - Lee!Logan, Patton, Virgil, Ler!Roman -  Roman’s been on a bit of a nostalgia binge, recently, and couldn’t help but remember a special sword a certain tickly pirate had... 3878 words

The Tickle Monster Always Wins - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Patton -  Roman really shouldn't have doubted Patton's skills as a ruthless tickle monster. He was really in for it, now. 3220 words

Broken Logic - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Logan, Ler!Virgil -  Logan had done enough ticklish "experiments" on the others to know that they would be ruthless in their revenge, but truly? He wasn't complaining. And he certainly wasn't complaining when he heard Virgil's threat to absolutely break him. 2689 words

Content (Valentickle) - [ao3] - Prinxiety - Switch!Virgil/Switch!Roman -  It was meant to be some cuddling after a Valentines Day well-spent. Not that either of them were complaining with the playful turn things had taken. 1605 words

Kitten’s Got Claws - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Logan, Ler!Virgil -  Virgil’s suspicious of Logan’s motives now that he’s started using Roman’s tickle spellbook as well. He figures he might as well be proactive and get the nerd, first. 895 words

Giddy Kisses - [ao3] - Logince - Lee!Logan/Ler!Roman -  Roman has a quite the sweet gift for Logan. It’s not his fault his boyfriend is so ticklish. 599 words

Scooch - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Roman - The couch may be a comfortable place for a nap, but Virgil is sorely mistaken if he thinks he'll be able to commandeer it for long. 401 words

Joyful Noise - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Logan, Roman, Patton -  Virgil tiredly lets something slip on his Christmas list, but it doesn't turn out as bad as he fears. 1222 words

Cold Fingers, Warm Laughter - [ao3] - LAMP - Switch!Virgil, Logan, Roman, Patton -  Maybe Patton was right and Roman should've worn gloves during their snowball fight, but was that going to stop him from starting something? Absolutely not. 1109 words

Color By Tickles - [ao3] - Gen - Ler!Virgil, Lee!Roman -  Virgil was feeling more confident with these spells, now. Meaning it was the perfect time for revenge on a certain Prince they all knew. 961 words

Connected - [ao3] - Gen - Ler!Logan, Lee!Virgil -  What, did Virgil think that Logan wouldn't get revenge? 596 words

Fluttery Feelings - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Magic(?) -  Roman had planned the perfect prank for movie night. He just really hadn't anticipated it backfiring on him. 2229 words

Professor Feathersword - [ao3] - Logince - Lee!Roman/Ler!Logan -  Roman didn't expect revenge, but he wasn't necessarily complaining. 2107 words

Provoked - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Patton, Ler!Logan -  Patton should have known to provoke Logan so far, but really, maybe that was exactly what he’d wanted all along. 967 words

TacTickle Advantage - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Patton -  Virgil should know better than to accept a challenge from Patton when he has that devious grin on his face. 716 words

Distraction - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Emile, Ler!Remy -  Emile slips up and gets a bruise. Remy has just the thing to distract him from the pain. 512 words

So Close - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Logan, Ler!Roman, Virgil, Patton -  Logan was so close to winning the bet, all he had to do was not laugh for another five minutes and he would be in the clear. Of course, it was at that moment Patton had to drop the secret to one of his biggest weaknesses. 945 words

Asking for Attention - [ao3] - Prinxiety - Lee!Roman/Ler!Virgil -  Roman's been pulling pranks all day. Virgil knows what he's really after. 509 words

Patty-Lee - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Patton, Ler!Roman, Virgil, Logan -  Patton's in a dangerous ler mood, but the others decide it's high time he got a taste of his own medicine. 1137 words

Learn Your Lesson - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Patton, Ler!Virgil -  Patton should’ve known better than to go after Virgil alone. Now he was really in for it. 1181 words

“Feared” Ler - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Patton, Logan, Ler!Virgil -  When Virgil gave you that grin, you knew to submit yourself to your fate. 1660 words

Get Up - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Patton - Patton just wants to get up and have breakfast! Roman, unfortunately, is being a little stubborn. 1076 words

Changing Channels - [ao3] - Gen - Switch!Logan, Switch!Virgil -  Virgil’s sick of Logan’s documentary, but he’s not exactly keen on changing the channel. Needless to say, a playful little fight breaks out. 846 words

Dance if You Can - [ao3] - Prinxiety - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Roman -  Roman held the unofficial title of “Best Dancer” whenever their friend group played Just Dance. Virgil, the new addition, was about to show him how it’s done, but Roman was nothing if not competitive. 2975 words

Broken Rules - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Patton - Virgil knew the consequences if he broke the rules of the challenge, he really did. And yet, here Patton was, needing to give him his “punishment.” Maybe it wasn’t a punishment at all, based off Virgil’s reactions. 702 words

Helpful - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Logan, Ler!Virgil -  Logan’s neck has been hurting him. Virgil’s only trying to help. 551 words

Prince Gigglee - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Virgil, Patton, Logan -  Roman’s in a very giggly mood. Logan finally figures out why. 1021 words

Not So Fast - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Logan -  Virgil isn’t quite as sneaky as he thinks he is, asking for something indirectly. 634 words

Let’s Hang Out - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Logan -  If Roman was going to (albeit accidentally) ignore him, then Virgil was going to ignore Roman right back. He just didn't expect the consequences that followed. 2085 words

Shark Attack - [ao3] - Gen - Switch!Virgil, Switch!Logan - Logan and Virgil are together again for summer break, and Virgil decides he'd like to play one of their childhood games to reminisce. 1210 words

Countdown - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Logan, Patton, Ler!Roman - Roman has a favorite game he likes to play with the other Sides. While most of them would never admit it, they like playing it with him, too. 1085 words

Bedtime - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Patton, LerLogan - Patton is refusing to go to bed, but Logan has a few tricks up his sleeves. 685 words

If You Do... - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Virgil - Roman had asked Virgil to do his makeup, but he hadn't anticipated how much the makeup brushes would tickle. 536 words

Bonding Exercises - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Emile - Emile thinks that he and Virgil need to bond, and he has the perfect idea as to how. 699 words

Better Than Coffee - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Logan, Ler!Virgil -  All Virgil had really been after was a hug. It wasn't his fault Logan was so sensitive. 280 words

Losses and Laughter - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Logan, Ler!Virgil -  Really, Logan should've known better than to make that bet. But was it really the worst way to lose? 332 words

Tricks and Teases - [ao3] - Analogical - Switch!Virgil/Switch!Logan - Logan had been planning to tickle his boyfriend silly. Not have it go the other way around. 548 words

Instincts - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Patton, Ler!Roman - It wasn’t Patton’s fault he squirmed so much at even the threat of being tickled! 316 words

Delicious Laughter - [ao3] - Logicality - Lee!Patton/Ler!Logan - Patton had the perfect plan set out to get Logan to tickle him. Logan just happened to go a little off script. 425 words

Fall of the Fortress - [ao3] - Logicality - Switch!Patton/Switch!Logan - Really, all Patton had wanted to do was cuddle. But when a tickle war was started? He was not going to go down without a fight. 733 words

Bully - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Logan - Logan's been teasing Roman all day, and he really hopes there's a laughter-filled payout after all this. 400 words

Begging For Lies - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Roman - Virgil should've known better than to provoke Roman, seeing how ruthless he could be. But maybe that was exactly what Virgil was counting on. 469 words

Cookie Monster - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Patton, Ler!Virgil - Virgil helps Patton pass the time until his cookies are done. 560 words

Dr. Monster, M.D. - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Logan, Ler!Roman - Well, if Logan thought his ideas were too fantastical and unrealistic, Roman would just have to use that against him, wouldn't he? 458 words

Please? - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Virgil - Virgil isn't normally so bold, but with Roman looking at him like that, how could he resist? 390 words

Noisy Giggles - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Patton - Patton had no idea that vocal cords could tickle someone so well. 503 words

Learn to Lie - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Virgil - Virgil just wants his makeup back. If only Roman would own up to his thievery. 425 words

It’s Okay to Laugh - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Logan, Ler!Virgil - During some late-night bonding, Virgil decides to help Logan loosen up a bit. 586 words

Cuddle Time - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Virgil, Ler!Patton - Patton’s in the mood to cuddle. 202 words

Strange Spot - [ao3] - Remile - Lee!Remy/Ler!Emile - Emile makes a fun discovery about Remy. 265 words

Glittery Giggles - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Logan - Logan thinks he deserves some payback after Roman’s latest prank. 522 words

Lazy Day by Law - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Patton, Ler!Roman - Roman's made it his job to make sure Patton obey's the laws of "Lazy Day." 425 words

Problem Solving - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Logan - After a long day of Roman being purposefully irritable, Logan finally finds out the reason. What kind of friend would he be if he didn't help Roman out? 537 words

The Labyrinth - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Roman, Ler!Patton - When Roman finds himself in a certain kind of mood, he knows who to ask. 677 words

Bready or Not - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Logan, Ler!Roman - Logan should've known that Roman noticed his moods. At least he was willing to help out. 795 words

Star Trek: The Next Generation

(’20) Tickletober Day 5 - Drawn On - [ao3] - DaForge - Lee!Geordi/Ler!Data - Data had only wanted to experiment with a new form of art, Geordi couldn't fault Data for his own sensitivity interrupting them. 674 words

Star Trek: The Original Series

(’20) Tickletober Day 14 - Light Tickles - [ao3] - Spirk - Lee!Spock/Ler!Jim - In a quiet moment, Jim discovers something new about Spock. 961 words

Supernatural

(’20) Tickletober Day 12 - Hard Tickles - [ao3] - Destiel - Switch!Dean/Switch!Castiel - Dean should know better than to start a tickle fight with an angel. 349 words

The Adventure Zone: Balance

Touch - [ao3] - Taakitz - Lee!Taako/Ler!Kravitz - Touch and Taako have always had an interesting relationship, but it was time he started figuring it out with this new world, since they seemed to be sticking around. 2349 words

Not-So-Silent Treatment - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Taako, Ler!Magnus - When Taako decides to give Magnus the silent treatment, he decides that that just won’t do. 324 words

Taaco Fight - [ao3] - Gen - Switch!Lup, Switch!Taako -  Tickle fights aren’t exactly an uncommon occurrence between the twins. 346 words

Need Something? - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Taako, Ler!Lucretia - Taako is the type to annoy people until he gets what he wants. Lucretia isn't the type to take that sort of behavior. 484 words

Attention and Affection - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Taako, Ler!Magnus - Magnus knows exactly how to deal with Taako when he's looking for attention. 418 words

Don’t Stop - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Taako, Ler!Magnus - It wasn’t the response Magnus was expecting from Taako, but who was he to deny such a request? 301 words

Sore Loser - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Taako, Ler!Lup - Taako lost the bet, and now he had to deal with the consequences. 460 words

(’20) Tickletober Day 8 - Interrogation - [ao3] - Gen - Lee!Magnus, Ler!Taako - Taako's hat is missing and he's going to find the culprit, no matter what it takes. 707 words

(’20) Tickletober Day 11 - Death Spot - [ao3] - Taakitz - Lee!Kravitz/Ler!Taako - Kravitz had long know Taako's death spot, having found it far too easily. Taako has to work a bit harder to find Kravitz's. 1096 words

Witcher

You Like It - [ao3] - Geraskier - Lee!Jaskier/Ler!Geralt - For a man who claims to know what tickling is "in theory," Geralt certainly has a lot of questions. He might even require a demonstration. 2018 words

Maybe I Like It, Too - [ao3] - Geraskier - Lee!Geralt/Ler!Jaskier -  Jaskier knew that everyone had to be at least a little ticklish somewhere, and he wasn't going to give up until he had Geralt laughing underneath him. 3239 words

Just Let Go - [ao3] - Geraskier - Lee!Geralt/Ler!Jaskier -  Geralt would never admit it out loud, but he quite enjoys the touches that Jaskier blesses him with. And then Jaskier figures out that he's sensitive to a different kind of touch. 1470 words

Fresh Discoveries - [ao3] - Geraskier - Switch!Geralt, Switch!Jaskier  -  Jaskier makes a rather interesting discovery while helping Geralt during one of his baths. 617 words

Get His Attention - [ao3] - Geraskier - Switch!Jaskier/Switch!Geralt -  Jaskier was determined to get Geralt’s attention, no matter what it took. 905 words

Wake-Up Call - [ao3] - Geraskier - Lee!Jaskier/Ler!Geralt -  Geralt is awake and ready to go, now the only issue is getting Jaskier up. 819 words

Beauty in Strength - [ao3] - Geraskier - Lee!Geralt/Ler!Jaskier - Jaskier's found a new game: brushing against scars and asking after them. If only it wasn't so ticklish when he did so. 2271 words

Snickers and Snorts - [ao3] - Geraskier - Lee!Geralt/Ler!Jaskier - It was one of Jaskier's favorite games to play, "How Long Until the Big Bad Witcher Admits He's Ticklish." As of yet, Jaskier hadn't technically won, but that didn't mean he was going to give up. 1119 words

Dissonance - [ao3] - Geraskier - Lee!Geralt/Ler!Jaskier - Geralt thought that Jaskier should know better than to annoy him. Jaskier proved to him that Geralt should know better than to provoke him. 906 words

Does This Tickle? - [ao3] - Geraskier - Lee!Geralt/Ler!Jaskier -  Jaskier insists that he’s not that ticklish. Geralt proves otherwise. 599 words

(’20) Tickletober Day 2 - Feathers - [ao3] - Jaskier seems to have misplaced his quill. He finds himself in a rather ticklish position once Geralt finds it. 1663 words

(’20) Tickletober Day 4 - Spidering - [ao3] - Geraskier - Switch!Geralt/Switch!Jaskier - Geralt is not nearly as amused with Jaskier's Halloween decorations as Jaskier thinks he should be. 1216 words

(’20) Tickletober Day 6 - Kiss - [ao3] - Geraskier - Lee!Geralt/Ler!Jaskier - Geralt's a bit weird about having his neck touched. Turns out, it wasn't for the reasons Jaskier thought. 1863 words

(’20) Tickletober Day 7 - Unusual Tool - [ao3] - Geraskier - Switch!Geralt/Switch!Jaskier - Jaskier's impulse-buy leads to a rather giggly evening, in the Rivia-Pankratz household. 854 words

(’20) Tickletober Day 10 - Feet - [ao3] - Geraskier - Lee!Jaskier/Ler!Geralt - Jaskier's complaining about the roughness of Geralt's feet, so Geralt gives him something else to complain about. 317 words

[manychocolatefactories]

CatCF: White Chocolate

And here is my White Chocolate retelling!

About this version: This version could take place in something between the 90s and the 2000s. It has been strongly inspired by both the world of cartoons in general, and "A Series of Unfortunate Events", as strange as it may seem. In this version, you have Seven Platinum Tickets.

Reinterpretation of Augustus Gloop:

Augustus Gloop, first Platinum Ticket winner. This Augustus, I imagined as a bully.

Physically, he is a very round boy. His belly is round, his torso is round, his face is round, his arms and legs are round, he basically looks like a bunch of balloons tied together, or a mass of spheres/globes. He has two great "beaver teeth". In terms of clothes, he eithers wears hoodies too small for him and of bright, vivid, flashy colors (orange, yellow, pink) or he wears striped shirts that are not slimming at all (such as the red and white stripes shirt of Augustus Gloop in the 2005 movie).

To all adults, Augustus plays the part of the cute, happy, innocent boy. But to all the other kids, he is a horrible, nasty, brutal and greedy bully. He likes to torture and dominate others - though he is not a sadist. He just seeks power and dominion, he loves to strike fear and submission in the heart of other children. A good exemple of his double-faced nature are his beaver teeth - he can actually speak perfectly fine with them, even though they gave him a slight lisp that is quite cute to adults. But with children, he worsens his lisp on purpose so that he would spit and splutter all over their faces, and when said children complain, the adults keep saying things like "He can't help it, he is just different, don't discriminate".

Augustus actually used to be a regular-sized kid (even though taller and bigger than his comrades, but not that fat). He regularly beat up, gave wedgies or other typical bully tortures on his peers to get their money or their toys. But it all changed when one day a boy had the idea to offer him his lunch instead of his money. Augustus was a big eater you see, and he seized the opportunity of having a free lunch. And since all the other kids preferred to give up their lunch rather than their money of their toys, they all started to "encourage" (as in, subtly manipulating him) so that he would racket lunch and food instead of money out of them. As a result, Augustus grew immensely fat on all the free food he got each day - and with his bigger size he could intimidate and crush other kids more easily. But at least, they didn't had to steal money from their parents anymore.

His demise will be with the Exploding Candies (remember those?). I think they would be going by a section of the Factory where some of Wonka's candies are stored, and Augustus would see another kid holding an Exploding Candy. Not knowing what it is, he would bully said kid (maybe Charlie?) into giving it to him. He would swallow it and then...

BOOM! HE EXPLODES INTO LITTLE PIECES!

No, I'm kidding Xp Actually I went with something much more cartoony (this Augustus himself being cartoony - in fact I based him in "fat Chuck with beaver teeth" from the cartoon "Chuck's Choices". It may sound weird but it makes kind of sense in the series Xp). He would  suddenly be all distended and inflated like a balloon, and then deflate completely (again, like a balloon), reduced to a flat, pancake-like boy, with smoke coming out of his mouth, nose and ears.

Reinterpretation of Violet Beauregarde:

The character is named Violet Strabismus, second Platinum Ticket winner. For her, I tried to think about what kind of people/archetype/stereotypes were seen chewing gum all day long, and I ended up finding this idea upon seeing a girl on a train that corresponded exactly to that.

This Violet is the typical embodiment of the cynic, "pseudo-edgy" teenager that seeks everything that is bleak and dark. She is a mix of goth, of emo, of punk and grunge. She only wears and surround herself with things dark, creepy, sinister or sad. She romanticizes notions such as despair, death, suicides, and the like. She is the kind of teenager that claims her whole life is just a series of pains and losses, that she seeks comfort in the darkness and the morbidity, and she disdains everything joyful, innocent or happy. Her two favorite hobbies are chewing gum, and trying to destroy other people's dreams and hopes with depressing talk.

The irony in all that, however, is that despite Violet's claims that she has a miserable and sad life, she actually has a very happy one. She has loving parents that support her in everything she does, and siblings that also love her. She comes from a wealthy background, which allows her to buy all the chains and piercings and extremely complicated goth/punk clothes she wants at specialized stores. She is quite a pretty and good-looking girl, even with her creepy clothes and dark makeup. She even has a huge house, and in fact despite her claims to adore death, never went to a funeral ever in her life, and never knew anyone that died. Still, she keeps repeating that she is a "misunderstood, bullied, rejected loner". And she is not suicidal herself, mind you, nor depressed. She is perfectly fine. She just wants to look like she is, to "fit her style".

Her demise, as with all the Violet variations in my stories, relies on the Three-Course Meal gum. But here, the dish used is the ice-cream. I had the idea that the gum would actually turn Violet's flesh into ice-cream. As a result she is immediately put inside Wonka's cold storage room and freezers, so she doesn't melt. And she is condemned to live her life alone, in dark, cold, locked up places, exactly as she pretended and wished to.

Reinterpretation of Veruca Salt:

Now, I am not much satisfied with this Veruca Salt, but well, it is still worth a shot, even though the idea itself may be not so original.

Veruca Salt, third Platinum Ticket winner. For this Veruca, I envisioned actually a character based on Darla Dimple from "Cats Don't Dance". She is a small, cute and child-like girl, that looks almost like a pretty little doll, but who is able to scream with an insanely powerful voice and can act like a total brat by throwing extremely destructive tantrums and breaking everything everywhere if she doesn't have what she wants.

Her demise was actually suggested by ArtMakerProductions - the Geese Room. The Geese Room from the 70s movie would return, with a full room having geese lay chocolate eggs for Easter (I also think Wonka would be disdainful of this silly idea according to which rabbits laid the Easter eggs). And when Veruca would throw one of her usual tantrum, one of the goose would believe her to be one of her children (due to Veruca's screams sounding like a goose' screams) and just sit on her, crushing the little girl. (Not to death of course, but that's one big goose Xp).

Reinterpretation of Mike Teavee:

This one was hard to think about, but I finally found something I'm quite proud of.

Mike's character is obsessed with television, right? And he wishes to be INSIDE television, right, that's the core of his demise. Well... what about a Mike Teavee that is obsessed with television not as a watcher but as an actor?

Henry Trout, fourth Platinum Ticket winner, is a former child actor who used to be the star of numerous teenager sitcoms and other televisions shows by Disney-like productions. All this fame turned him into a spoiled, arrogant and selfish brat, and when he was kicked off the shows, for both being too old AND being just too much of a jerk, he couldn't let go of the past. He believes that everyone knows him through his work as an actor, and that everyone is a fan of him. He spends a lot of his time looking at his old television shows, and television is his only topic when speaking with other people. He still dresses and acts like a star - and never once realizes that a good lot of people don't know or even remember him. As per ArtMakerProductions, his parents are also his agents, and they desperatly try to find back their son's former glory, by "overselling" him to get a lot of media exposure, and still doing a lot of advertisement and promotion despite him not getting any real work - the finding of a Platinum Ticket was another attempt at becoming famous once more.

Take the characters of "fallen stars" such as Norma Desmond in "Sunset Boulevard" and Jane Hudson from "Whatever happened to Baby Jane?". Mix them with the former Disney or Nickelodeon child and teenage stars, especially if they had a dark turn in their life (the Spouse twins, David Henrie, Cameron Boyce, Zac Efron...). And you get Henry Trout.

His demise is still the Television Room, like all the other Mikes. However his variation is that the television Wonka used was prepared to teleport and air objects, such as Wonka bars. It is still a technology in working, and they only focused on the material and visual parts. They haven't worked on the sounds. As a result, once Henry Trout gets on TV, he is insanely happy because now everyone will see him and nobody will kick him out... but then he realizes he can't speak, because there is no sound. And when rescues from the television, he discovers he turned completely mute.

Reinterpretation of Charlie Bucket :

Charlie Bucket, the seventh and last Platinum Ticket winner.

For this one... I actually don't know. I wanted to do a Charlie based on the "brown-haired Charlie" as illustrated for exemple by 2005's Charlie. But I hesitate. On one side, I haven't used yet the idea of "the too-saint Charlie", aka a Charlie Bucket so good and so perfect he becomes a male Mary Sue, unrealistic and annoying, an exaggerated caricature of a good boy. I thought I could potentially use this with the brown-haired Charlie, especially since 2005's Charlie was criticized for being a too-perfect child.

On the other side, I also liked the idea of a crippled Charlie, in the mind of "Tiny Tim" from A Christmas Carol, and I also thought it would be fitting for him...

So I'll let it float for now.

Reinterpretation of the deleted kids :

# Terence Roper. Since this one had barely any personnality in the original drafts, I decided to include him (especially since I already reinvented the two other kids part of his trio - Clarence Crump and Bertie Upside).

I think of Terence Roper as the typical "hot bad guy" archetype. He is a criminal kid, and a little delinquant, that drives despite not having a permit, that steals, that robs, that like to spread chaos and destroy shop windows and tag walls etc... I think he is the son of two famous criminals, and thus thinks of crime as the "family business". But he is also a very good-looking, very charming, and very popular boy, which resulted in him not only being leader of gangs and the like, but also having a sort of cult or worship around him - similarly to how "bad boys" in high schools can be idolized. I think something very similar appened with his parents - I want to explore with this character how people worship criminals, with very successful bandits, mafioso or drug dealers ending up as popular and romanticized and idolized as movie stars, singers or the like.

He is the blousons noirs of the 50s and 60s, the old-fashioned troublemakers pachucos, the greaser delinquants of the movie Grease, and all other fashionable kind-of-criminal groups you could think of.

But the irony here is that Terence actually got his Platinum Ticket by legal means, by buying a chocolate bar - and in fact, for him to have found the Golden Ticket and not stole it is a great disappointment and shame.

For his demise I thought of re-using the Fizzy Lifty Drink. He would stole it in an act of bravado, and drink it without realizing what it was - which would result in him getting a perpetual case of bad gazes (frequent burps, farts, and other stomach noises). This would completely ruin his cool and good looking image, as well as any kind of grace or discretion he may have.

# Miranda Mary Piker. Sixth Platinum Ticket Winner (Terence Roper was fifth). She is based on the character as most know her : a school-obsessed, fun-killing girl. The original incarnation was a stern, no-nonsense, very strict girl that basically acted like any cruel headmistress or teacher from those horrible British boarding schools. However, given that this character was alreayd beautifully reintepreted by Danguy96, I wanted to do something slightly different. This Miranda is more like an "annoying moral guardian". She is still obsessed with school, good work and being an obedient and good child, and she still disdains silly things such as games, entertainment or fun in general, but instead of being a stern and harsh girl, she would rather be a nagging and annoying pest, that keeps giving speeches and sermons to everyone about why you should act a certain way and not another, a walking moralization that keeps trying to teach "proper manners", "maturity" and "basic knowledge" to everyone in a very condescending way. I also thought she would try to dress up as an adult, and thus with adult clothes - but since she is just a cild, said clothes are much too big for her, resulting in her looking kind of ridiculous.

Her demise would, of course, be the Spotty Powder. I can't remember if this was an idea that was suggested to me, or one used by someone else in their reinterpretation, but I like the concept that instead of falling inside the machine and being crushed to death, Miranda (and possibly her school director father) would actually fall into a big pile of the Spotty Powder, and thus develop all the symptoms of a contagious disease and be forbidden from setting a foot in school for a very long period of time.

Reinterpretation of the rival chocolatiers :

This is the big defining feature of White Chocolate. In this version, the rivals of Wonka have a big part to play.

They don't appear in themselves - but they sent emissaeries, messengers and spoekpersons to contact each of the kids that won a Platinum Ticket, in a similar way to the 70s movie, and each chocolatier tempts the kid with a different "treat".

Slugworth seems to be a chocolatier involved in the criminal underworld - his emissaries at least seem to have some criminal undertones, and act through fear and violence rather than seduction. In fact, I think his chocolate and candy business may actually be a "cover" for darker criminal activites, and "washing" of dirty money.

Augustus Gloop receives the visit of a man with "icy blue eyes and nasty purple scars on his cheeks". He passes off as a waiter in the restaurant in which Augustus is celebrating, even though it is just a disguise. He tries to convince Augustus by both subtle threats, and the promise of a free pass and unlimited offer in all the restaurants and buffets of the town.

And Terence Roper, due to his criminal connections, actually is invited to the house of a wealthy man with ties to the criminal world, a creepy man in fancy, wealthy suits, but stuck in a wheelchair and with a fake eye shining like a silver dollar.

Slugworth's purpose seems to be the destruction of Wonka. He tries to convince the children to sabotage or put maybe bombs and things like that inside the Wonka factory, or to ruin batches of candy, stuff like that.

 Prodnose rather keeps sending women as emissaries. In fact  even thought of making Prodnose actually a female chocolatier, but I don't know yet... I thought of Prodnose as some sort of media mogul, that tries to spread their brand to everything (there are Prodnose television shows, book series, toys, sport equipment, gardening tools, etc...) including candy-making and chocolate-making.

One "messenger" contacts Veruca Salt. She is one of the journalists interviewinv the young girl after she found her Ticket. Based on Cherry from the musical, she is a happy, charmant, pleasant woman. But her face has something... weird to it, almost unnatural, as if she had a bad surgery job done to it. And she keeps smiling all the time - her smile seems completely stuck.

Henry Trout is the other one to receive a messenger from Prodnose. As Henry goes to have a new suit tailored for him (because of course Henry only had tailored suit perfectly to his size), the tailor reveals herself as a messenger of Prodnose, who could easily bring back Henry in Prodnose-made television series and shows. The tailor herself is a tall and thin lady all dressed in black, and with long, spindly fingers with long and pointy nails - her hands in fact look like creepy spiders.

I thought of probably Prodnose trying to cause a huge scandal inside the Wonka factory, and thus asking the kids to find out Wonka's dirty secrets, and if not, to invent some that they would "reveal" upon leaving the Factory. Where Slugworth tries to ruin physically and economically Wonka, Prodnose tries to ruin his reputation and to discredit him on moral ground.

 As for Fickelgrubber, he is actually envious of Wonka. I think he is a very young person hailing from a very wealthy and powerful family, and his dream was to become a candy-maker, but he was very bad at it. However he refused to give up - especially when seeing how Wonka was succesful. Fickelgrubber is an envious and jealous child-minded young person, and he refuses to admit Wonka can succeed where he fails. Fickelgrubber has tried to copy and steal Wonka's inventions for years now, but all his attempt ended up failing miserably - he copied the ice-cream that never melt of Wonka, but they had a tendency to turn into rock-hard material. He copied the gum that could create gigantic balloons of Wonka, but he mixed up the recipe, and the gum actually made kids inflate and pop like balloons. And when Fickelgrubber released glow-in-the-dark candies, it was later revealed they contained a huge dose of radioactive components.

Fickelgrubber's emisseries are creepy kids (I still don't know if they are "friends" of his or merely all sorts of cousins of his real family - as I said, Fickelgrubber is quite young, both in spirit and mind).

Violet, upon visiting her local cemetery, is contacted by a beautiful blond teenager standing on the wall of the cemetery. He acts flirtingly, seductively, playing the "good cop" (and he also actually acts like a cat, meowing, purring and sometimes even moving like a cat - I thought of him as a parody of Cat Noir from Miraculous). And when Violet is not receptive to this, the boy presents his sister, that is waiting behind Violet. A big, burly, muscular girl with a bulldog-like face.

Miranda is also contacted by Fickelgrubber emissaries - twin girls, identical, but "perfect", as in with perfectly clean and ordered clothes, identical beautiful hairstyle, and the like (I thought of them as inspired by the twins from The Shining). They are basically the kind of "perfect" and "proper" kids Miranda seeks to create in the world. And they try to convince her to join them (they even have prepared for Miranda clothes identical to their own so that they would become their new sister). I don't know however how would Miranda react to that - either she refuses, due to stealing secrets being perceived as cheating and she is against it  ; either the sisters actually convince her to go along with the plan by the simple argument that Wonka is an excentric, ridiculous man that gets success without hard work, and Miranda hates both goofy/clownish and not-hard-working people.

As for Charlie Bucket, he will actually be visited in turn by one messenger from each chocolatier (in fact, he may even escape them when they start fighting each other).

Slugworth's emissary... I actually don't know. Xp I thought of maybe a kind olf man, almost grandfather like, that acts all nice and doting, but then reveals that inside his cane, there is a blade.

Prodnose's emissary is a loud-talking woman with a lot of makeup and wearing a huge coat made out of crocodile (I thought of her as a mix of Cruella and Ursula).

As for Fickelgrubber's emissaries, Charlie meets at first a beautiful Japanese teenager (male or female?) dressed in a refined suit, something between a fashion model and a succesful business owner. And when their smooth talk fails, they present their brothers - because they are triplets. And appear from the darkness two huge sumos, teenagers yes, but the size of elephants. (This was again inspired by usual sumo appearances in cartoons, from JCA to the Simpsons passing by Shuriken School).

[obxhoe]

Leather and Lace || Rudy Pankow {1}

Lovers forever face to face My city your mountains Stay with me stay I need you to love me I need you today Give to me your leather Take from me my lace

(eek i’m nervous about this. hope y’all enjoy. message me if you wanna be on my taglist!)

CHAPTER ONE

ZOE’S POV:

Sophie’s alarm clock is blaring yet again after the third time she had snoozed it this morning. I can hear it in my bedroom… across the freaking hallway. I pad into her room,

“Soph.” No response. “Soph!” I whisper-yell. “Sophie!!!” She jolts up, ripping her eye mask off.

“I’m up. I’m up.” 

“I’m leaving in 20 minutes for class, I won’t be home until at least 11 tonight, I told Liv I would have dinner and a wine night at her place.”

“I’m probably sleeping at Aaron’s tonight so…” I raise an eyebrow at her. Aaron is this new guy she met over Bumble and the two of them have been seeing each other every day since their first date 3 weeks ago.

“Alright well have fun and try not to do anything dumb”

“You know I always do” I laugh and shut her door, walking to my vanity to quickly put on some makeup and grab my stuff. 

I’m about a quarter way through my senior year at NYU, and about a quarter away from an existential crisis. I’m not sure what I want to do with my life yet. Basically every single one of my friends have boyfriends and they talk about marriage and babies and all that shit. And it’s cute. But I’m fine on my own. My last boyfriend Peter always had me feeling suffocated. The constant “Babe” and “Baby”. The obligation of having to FaceTime someone all the time. Having to be around someone every minute of every day. I was exhausted all the time. Currently, I’m an international business major with a minor in accounting. Taking a full course load, and working a part time job in an accounting firm on top of that. I don’t exactly have time for anything else. 

I check the time and see that I’m running 5 minutes late. I slip on mom jeans, a giant t-shirt I stole from my dad years ago and run out the door. The walk to school is always my favorite part of the day. The West Village was my dream neighborhood to live in and once I saved up enough money from working throughout school, I finally was able to rent a tiny two bedroom apartment. I mindlessly scroll through social media as I speed walk to “campus”, it’s really just a few buildings in the city, there’s no open space or anything. Unless you count Washington Square Park. I pass the West 4th street subway station and my phone fumbles out of my hand as a result of someone walking straight into me.

“Fuck. fuck fuck fuck.” I say grabbing my phone and seeing the screen cracked. This is not exactly what I need at this moment.

“I am so sorry” I hear a voice above me, “I’m not from here, which I guess you can tell. Uh, I’m a little lost. I think? I’m not sure where I’m going or what uptown and downtown mean on the subways. Sorry, I’m rambling. Oh my god!” He sees my phone. “I’m so sorry. Shit. I can get you a new one.”

“Ok chill for a sec dude” I stand up brushing my hair out of my eyes. “At least buy a girl coffee before you offer up a phone.”

“Oh you’re not mad. I thought most people who live here have a stick up their ass all the time” He says, and I finally look up at his face. Those eyes, those fucking eyes. My breath catches in my throat as I realize I’m staring at him. Something about him looks or feels familiar but I can’t place my finger on it.

“Uh yeah most people are like that.”

“So are you not from here?” He asks “Cause ya know, you’re nice and stuff.” 

“Oh no I live here. I go to NYU, I’m actually on my way there now.” I look at my phone to check the time but I can barely see due to the cracked screen. 

“Uh it’s 9:0-”

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me” I groan loudly, class started at 9.

“Late for class…?” he asks cautiously, not sure if he’s going to make it worse or not.

“Yes. I have to go, like right now.” I say starting to turn to walk away.

“Wait. Let me buy you that coffee so we can discuss the phone thing. Today isn’t great for me, how does tomorrow sound?” I nod and he hands me his phone. “Put in your number.” I quickly type in my information and hand him back the phone. “Well Zoe,” He says looking down at my contact, “I hope to see you later.”

“You too, I didn’t catch your name though.”

“Rudy. Rudy Pankow.”

“Well Rudy,” I look at him, flashing a small smirk “I’ll be looking forward to your text.” I turn and walk away as fast as I can. Of all the things that make me anxious, being late to class is pretty high up on the list. But I think the idea of meeting Rudy for coffee is consuming my mind more than the fact that I’m late is. I slip into the back of the lecture hall about 15 minutes late, luckily not drawing any attention to myself. I take out my notebook and try to take notes, but my mind is elsewhere.

RUDY’S POV:

I don’t know where the hell I am right now. Chase was completely wrong when he said the New York subway system would be easy to figure out. I have to go film a few interviews for Buzzfeed about season two and I’m lost. Totally lost. 

“West 4th street-Washington Square” The crackle comes over the speaker. 

“Fuck it” I mumble and get off. I can just take an Uber, so much for trying to get the whole experience. I walk up the stairs trying to order an Uber, getting more and more frustrated by the minute. All of a sudden I slam into what I can only hope is another tourist, the last thing I need is someone yelling at me for looking at my phone. 

“Fuck. fuck fuck fuck.” I hear a voice from next to me mutter.

“I am so sorry” Fuck. She’s beautiful, and I’m just straight up dumb. “I’m not from here, which I guess you can tell. Uh, I’m a little lost. I think? I’m not sure where I’m going or what uptown and downtown mean on the subways. Sorry, I’m rambling.” For fucks sake Rudy shut the fuck up. I look to her hand and see that I shattered her entire phone and my stomach drops. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry. Shit. I can get you a new one.” Yes good job. Just offer up an entirely new phone, that’ll help. I mentally smack my forehead. 

“Ok chill for a sec dude” She stands up, locking her eyes with mine. My eyes can’t decide where to look. Her eyes? her lips? She’s stunning. “At least buy a girl coffee before you offer up a phone.” My face turns bright red. I’m a fucking idiot. She’s running late and I decide to just shoot my shot. I shove my phone at her offering up coffee. A smile breaks onto my face when she takes it and types in her contact info. Zoe. 

“Well Rudy, I’ll be looking forward to your text” She smirks at me. God dammit I have never seen anything like her before. She spins on her heel and rushes away. I slide into the nearest taxi, not getting the chance to order an Uber. What the hell just happened?

ZOE’S POV:

I can’t get him off my mind. This isn’t like me at all. Usually I turn random men on the street down, I mean who doesn’t? What if this guy is a serial killer. God Zoe what did you do. Ok but he seems nice enough right? Ugh. I stare at my glass of wine, mind wandering.

“Earth to Zoe” Liv waves her hand in front of my face. I blink and look up.

“Sorry I’m exhausted. Too many unhappy clients today.”

“Uh huh sure.” She rolls her eyes and my friend Katie laughs next to her.

“What?!” I say, a little too defensively.

“Who’s the guy? You only ever act like this, all out of it and daydreamy when there’s a guy”

“There’s no gu-” I get cut off.

“Oh don’t even try. Who is he.” Katie slides next to me and pours more wine in my glass.

“It’s really no one. I met him on the street, he sort of smashed my phone. Well I guess I did. When he ran into me. And then he offered to buy me a new phone just like that. I was like well at least buy me a coffee first, you know, jokingly. But then he actually made a date for tomorrow to get coffee. He said he’d text me, but it’s been hours so I doubt it’ll actually happen. Probably is just being nice.” I mumble the last sentence. 

“A guy on the street?” Liv raises her voice.

“Are you crazy?” Katie says, setting her wine glass down a little too hard.

“I know I know. But something about him just felt familiar. Like I had seen him before or something. He seems our age, he had these insane blue eyes. I couldn’t stop staring.” I look down at the table. “I probably won’t even go, it’s a dumb idea.” 

“Dude, you’ll find someone. I promise. It just takes time” I look over to Liv.

“That’s the thing though. I don’t even want someone, I’m fine on my own right now. If I started seeing a guy, I wouldn’t have time for him, the two of you, work and school. I would literally have a mental breakdown.” I laugh. Part of me knows I’m lying. I don’t want a boyfriend, that part is true. But if that boyfriend was Rudy, I would have to reconsider. That’s crazy right? I’m definitely going crazy. I don’t even know this guy.

“Ok well let’s get drunk and watch hot boys on TV. There’s a show Liv and I wanted to watch on Netflix called Outer Banks. Have you seen it yet?” Katie asks me as she goes to the couch.

“I don’t have the time for that.” I plop down next to her.

“So that’s a no” She grabs the remote.

“I’m so fucking excited. I keep seeing stuff about the show everywhere, season two is coming out next week.” Liv squeals. Katie starts the show and I start chugging my wine so I can get a new glass. I choke on my wine and spit it out all over the ivory rug.

“Zoe! What the Fuck?!” Liv yells, obviously pissed I just ruined her rug. But I can’t stop coughing. I look back to the TV to make sure I’m not seeing things. It’s him, I could never forget those eyes.

“That’s him” I choke out, “That’s the guy who I ran into today.”

“Rudy Pankow? The guy on the TV right now? Are you sure?” Katie looks at me.

“There’s no way.” Liv shakes her head.

“I’m dead serious. That’s the guy.” My phone vibrates from across the room and we all look at each other. I run over to look at it.

Meet me at Think Coffee in SoHo tomorrow at 3pm. Apple Store right next door ;) -Rudy

“No. Fucking. Way”

Taglist: @pink-meringues​ @x-lulu​ @perkeusjackson​

[plus-size-reader]

All Dolled Up

Carl Grimes x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1555 words

Warnings: none 

Summary:  Playing around with Jessie's makeup and shocking Carl when he sees you wearing it for the first time

———————————————————————————————————

Carl had never seen you all dolled up.

Prior to moving to Alexandria, you had never had a chance to dress up. Hell, you were sixteen years old and you'd never worn a shred of makeup.

It just wasn't something you'd ever even thought about.

You were curious.

It was something that you didn't have any experience with, but you wanted to learn.

...So naturally, you went to the one person that you figured you could find the answer to all your questions.

Jessie.

The only problem was that you didn't want to ask her about it due to the embarrassment. It was a stupid thing to worry about...all things considered.

Instead of checking with her like a normal person, you just went to her closet.

The whole situation was rightfully sketchy, you knew that. However, you were desperate to figure everything out.

Your mother had died long before she could teach you about all of this...And you were on your own.

The stash that Jessie kept in her closet was a small one but it was still more makeup than you had ever seen. It was more than enough for what you needed it for.

The entire spread was overwhelming to you but luckily, before you could in too deep, Jessie intervened.

"I'm so sorry" you repeated, over and over again. You were embarrassed, terrified that she would be angry. After all, you were standing in her home, unannounced and uninvited.

However, Jessie wasn't upset with you.

Instead, she smiled.

In the way that you didn't have a mother, Jessie had never had a daughter. She hadn't been given an opportunity to help shape a young woman's life-and she wanted to.

You deserved that.

"You like that stuff? It was just a little bit I kept after everything" she shrugged, She didn't really have a use for it anymore.

There weren't really a ton of occasions for red lipstick around here after all.

"I've never seen so much makeup" you laughed, hiding your embarrassment with a giggle. You were just so nervous but you knew that Jessie wasn't upset with you, she wasn't angry or anything like that.

In fact, before long, you were sitting across from her.

She wanted to teach you all about the makeup she had and how to wear it. When she was your age, she had so much fun playing in the different colors and powders. It was only right that she share that joy with you.

"This is eyeshadow, it goes right here" she grinned, swiping the color over your closed lid.

It was an odd sensation, but you were so excited that nothing else even mattered. The whole process was a long one, from all the eyeshadows Jessie had to every single lipstick.

Your eyes were wide as you let your fingers glide over all the tubes, each one a different color.

It was crazy.

"I have to ask, why wouldn't you just come to me? I would have loved to teach you" she assured, speaking as she searched for her blush compact.

It was a fair question, especially since you had snuck into her home. There had to be a reason you didn't just ask her. Jessie just hoped that you weren't afraid of her. If anything, she wanted to be someone you could rely on.

You shrugged at first, thinking over her words.

Asking her help for something so unimportant seemed stupid. Of all the things you could be focused on, makeup shouldn't have even made the list.

It didn't help the community in any way.

"I guess I just thought you'd have better things to do" you hummed, after thinking for a second. It was the truth but it made Jessie upset to hear.

You were so focused on surviving that anything remotely normal filled you with shame.

It wasn't right.

You, and all the other kids should have been allowed to be kids-apocalypse or not. "Nonsense, I'll always make time to help you-with anything" she smiled, dusting a fair amount of blush on your face with a fluffy brush.

All you could do at first was smile back, thinking over what she had said.

Your group had recently joined Alexandria and you hadn't really bonded with them quite yet. However, Jessie had just changed that. You two were relatively strangers but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that she had helped you and you really appreciated it.

It had been a really long time since you bonded with someone like this and you enjoyed it.

You enjoyed it so much that you forgot about having lunch with Carl.

It had become a bit of a tradition since moving into the community. Carl would pack a few things in his bag then you two would have lunch outside the walls. It was something you enjoyed, something you wanted to do, every moment or every day.

You relied on seeing Carl to keep you sane, but thinking about seeing him right now made you panic.

Not only had you never worn makeup but Carl had never seen you wearing makeup.

You had no idea how he was going to react but you knew you had to go. Jessie helped you finish up your lipstick and then sent you on your way.

Your footsteps were heavy as you made your way over to the Grimes household. There was something bright and brand new today that made you feel good. You had never felt this confident and happy-at least not in recent memory.

Now all you had to do was see how Carl would react.

...which was the scariest thing in the entire world.

You could deal with the dead, and all the evils that other survivors brought. You were never scared of any of that, but Carl's rejection was different.

Carl was your favorite person in the world, the man that you loved. So naturally, the idea that he could hate anything you liked filled you with anxiety.

You couldn't imagine what you would do if he hated it.

~ 

By the time you made it to his house, Carl was waiting for you on the steps, just sitting there. He knew that you would come, but it was odd that you were late. 

You were never late. 

“Is everything-” he started, worried that you had run into some kind of trouble that made you late. However, before he could finish his sentence, you were close enough for him to see the paint all over you. 

That was certainly brand new. 

“Hi” you smiled, closing the space between the two of you. You could tell that he wasn’t sure what to say. Makeup had never really been a huge part of Carl’s life anyway-even before. 

Lori never really wore much of it but after all this time, he had pretty much forgotten that it existed. 

It wasn’t really something either of you were used to. 

“Do you like it?” you hummed, after a few seconds of just standing in silence. You weren’t sure if he hated it or what but if you had to just keep staring at him like this, you were going to go insane. 

You were sure of that. 

“Jesse helped me, I just wanted to try it” you shrugged, thinking that maybe making an excuse would lessen the blow if he hated it. 

You never thought you’d get a chance to get all dolled up like this. When the opportunity presented itself, you ran with it. The worst that could happen was you needed to scrub it off. 

That was all it would take. 

Honestly, the more you stood here waiting for his opinion, you wanted to run away more and more. You couldn’t shake the feeling that Carl was going to send you away. 

He had always thought you were beautiful just as you were, but what if he didn’t like this version as much as you did? 

Luckily though, before you could completely rip yourself apart with teen angst and nerves, Carl spoke. “You look really pretty” 

It was honest, and real if you’d ever heard it. 

As soon as he said it, the stress you were feeling melted away. It was as if a fifty pound weight had been lifted off your shoulders and you couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on your face. 

“You really think so? You like it?” you grinned, happy that he felt that way. 

All he could do was nod before an idea popped into your head. Without missing a beat, you closed the space between the two of you, a huge grin spread over your face-from ear to ear. 

“You wanna know what else?” you hummed, your face only half an inch or so from his. There was mischief shining in your eyes and you clearly had something on your mind. 

You only ever got that look on your face when you were really riled up about something. 

“I can do this” you sing-songed, peppering his face with big smooches, leaving red prints in their wake. You were pretty proud of yourself for putting the pieces together and Carl couldn’t help but laugh. 

It was clear that getting this off was gonna be a bitch but he didn’t care. Right now, all he cared about was letting you have your fun.

[artificialqueens]

Come Home to My Heart, Chapter 3 (Lemyanka) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 ✨| chapter 1 2

A/N: hi! I hope you like this new chapter as it goes deeper on the feels™️ I really wanted to give the characters more background (and a little bit of angst whoops) and finally, there are new names dropping yay! Again, there’s a time skip of two years this time. Enjoy & thanks for reading <3

-3-

When Priyanka turned fifteen, she discovered new things she loved. She loved dying the tips of her hair with bright colors every two weeks and a half, she loved skateboarding, she loved being the center of attention and a little bit of a class-clown at school, she loved hanging out with her group of friends, she loved the phone calls with Lemon to catch up and talk shit about everyone…

“Okay, can you hear me now?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s better.”

Priyanka peeped through the hallway hoping no one would decide to interrupt them. She nervously removed the shiny red nail polish with her teeth as they tried to re-connect, if her mother saw her she would’ve scolded her on the spot. The landline phone was solid red plastic with buttons and wires, it was age-worn but at least it wasn’t like her grandparent’s phone with the rotary dial system or it would take hours to get all those area code numbers correct and get Lemon on the other side.

“Thank God. I’m literally inside the closet just like in The Parent Trap. I told my mom I was calling my grandma because last time our phone bill had several zeroes.”

Priyanka chortled and entangled the curly wire with his fingertips. “Sorry about that… so, you were saying… about the audition?”

“Oh, right! I’m trying to get into this dance academy that’s supposed to be the best of the best and the audition waiting list is a nightmare… but they called me the other day and said I’ll have shot in two weeks.”

“Oh. My. God. Lemon that’s awesome!”

“I know! I feel it, Pri. I know I can do it but… I don’t want to assume anything until I get there. I’m confident in my skills but what if they perceive that confidence as cockiness or something like that. I was talking to Jan the other day and she said-”

“Wait, who’s Jan?” Priyanka frowned before the unfamiliar name.

“Jan. Jan! My friend Jan? We have Biology and Math together, remember?”

“I don’t think I’ve heard her name before.”

“I’m sure I have mentioned her… anyway. Jan is madly talented –like, she can sing- and she auditioned for music school like a year ago and told me that…”

Jan. She hadn’t mentioned a Jan before… it was weird for Priyanka that knew all Lemon’s New Yorker friends’ names and she was pretty sure Lemon remembered all her friends’ names as well.

“… anyway, I’ll keep my head high and hope for the best. I’m training extra hard these days to make it. My muscles are sore and I can’t feel my legs right now but hey, no pain no gain.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Thank you.” She paused as if she wanted to say something else, Priyanka could hear her breathing, but then she continued chattering. “Also, my mom got promoted again and now she bought a computer I can e-mail you the day of the audition. But tell me, how are things over there? Did the girls work their differences yet?”

“You know Scarlett, she won’t shut up and-”

“Priyanka, it’s dinner time.” Her mother announced from the kitchen.

She sighed. “Shit. I have to go or my mom is going to cut the phone wires. She says this time is for real.”

“Oh, okay… I’ll call you soon then.”

“Yes, please call me right after the audition or before if you wanna talk… you know. Break a leg or whatever… make sure is figuratively speaking, please.”

She heard Lemon’s giggle on the other line and something inside her went softer.

“I will… and I will be there for Christmas this year, I made my mom promise it.”

“Fingers crossed.” She said before hanging up.

When she looked at herself in the mirror she had a silly grin on her face that couldn’t be erased.

Lemon hadn’t been back in a long year and a half. After spending the first holidays after her parents’ divorce with her dad in Canada, she had to spend the next one with her mom in the Big Apple. Plus, her father got to travel to New York quite often those days and got to see her a lot. She sometimes sent things for Priyanka with him, a nice hoodie, a makeup bag, one of those stupid tourist t-shirts with the Statue of Liberty printed on it, sometimes a pair of dangling earrings or a simple letter and a picture of her. She treasured each of those little trinkets.

Priyanka was saving money from her allowance and was hoping to get a job soon so she could buy a car someday and visit her friend in the big city, they might even go on a road trip over the summer, it was a nice thought to hold onto until they could hang out again.

On the day of Lemon’s audition, Priyanka was restless. She got kicked out of one of her classes because she kept fidgeting, twitching, moving around, and chewing gum. It drove her teachers insane. Scarlett and Kiara mocked her from the window of the classroom and then got a warning as well.

Later that day she cleaned all her room to avoid thinking. She found several pictures of her and Lemon over the years –including that one time they tried Lemon’s mom makeup for the first time, Lemon was missing her two front teeth-, there were some photos from their first days of school and even Lemon at Priyanka’s plays. She was so pissed when she got that old lady role instead of the main character but she had managed to steal the scene anyway.

As the sun was setting, she didn’t know what else to do. She did the dishes without offering resistance and then got into an argument with her little sister who wanted to watch Hannah Montana while Priyanka just wanted to watch the new episode of America’s Next Top Model. She had to admit it though, the intro of Hannah Montana was kind of catchy (something she would never admit to her sister).

It was almost quarter to nine and she still didn’t have any news. There was a two-hour time difference with New York but still… it was gnawing her from the inside.

Right when Tyra was about to reveal which model got to stay for another week, the phone rang in the hallway and she couldn’t jump out of the couch fast enough.

«You have a phone call from-» Press one to accept, yeah, yeah, she knew that.

“Lemon?” She didn’t even wait for a «hello».

“Pri? Is it you?”

The sound of her voice brought her back to life, she could hear the sound of her heart beating again.

“Yes, it’s me! How did it go?”

“Oh my God, Pri… I’m calling you from a payphone in the middle of Times Square, this is insane. The girls lend me some cash to call you.” Priyanka could hear the sound of the traffic and even some giggles coming from outside of the phone.

“And? You’re killing me here, Lemz.” She had her fingers crossed even when she couldn’t see that gesture through the call and was holding the phone against her ear with her shoulder.

“It was so difficult I thought I was never going to learn the steps I’m literally so exhausted right now but…”

But.

“I got it, I got the spot!”

Priyanka started screaming.

“Priyanka!” Her mother shouted.

“Sorry…sorry!” She covered her mouth with her hand.

Lemon was cackling.

“Lemz, I might get in so much trouble for this but… Congratulations, I’m so happy for you!”

“Thank you.” She sounded truly happy, Priyanka wished she could see her right at that moment. “Jan, can you give me another quarter? Thanks, doll.”

That girl Jan again.

“So what are you girls are up to?”

“We’re going to get some pizza to celebrate. Jan is here as you heard, so are Goona, Rosé, Jackie… They say hi.”

“Tell them I said hi too.”

“She says hi… No, I’m not telling that, shut up…”

“What is it?”

“They are being assholes as usual… Listen, I have to go, I’m running out of coins and I still have to call my mom.”

“Okay, we’ll talk soon… I’m so happy for you… Love you.”

“Love you too! See you in a few weeks.”

“Yeah. I can’t wait.”

“Bye, Pri.”

She hung up but stood next to the phone for a moment, staring at it.

Just a few more weeks.

Priyanka kept begging her older brother to teach her how to drive. It took a few weeks of insistence until he gave up and the lessons started. They only stopped when the snow got too thick and the roads too slippery to practice. Still, by that time Priyanka was almost an expert. She needed to perfect her parking skills before turning sixteen and that would be it.

She also needed a car but that was the least important part.

“So when’s your girlfriend coming to town?” Scarlett asked.

Priyanka choked on her hot chocolate and coughed a couple of times. “Lemon’s not my girlfriend.”

Kiara rolled her eyes.

“Ah, yes, I can’t wait to finally meet her!” Juice –the latest addition to their group- said.

They were at the coffee shop, outside was freezing cold and the smell of fresh-baked pastries had dragged them inside the warm environment. Scarlett was having a black coffee while Priyanka and Kiara had their respective hot chocolate with marshmallows and Juice ordered a cappuccino with whipped cream and sprinkles on top.

“So?” Scarlett arched a brow.

“Her flight is booked for next week if the snowstorms allow them to fly.”

“I remember you two from primary school; they were joined by the hip, even before you shared diapers or something.” Kiara mocked.

“Oh, that’s right. You were in her classroom in kindergarten back when Ilona prevented everyone from playing with her.”

“That’s because Lemon spilled some paint over Ilona’s drawing… it was kids’ things. We all forgot when some random kid wet his pants or whatever.”

“And when did the crush began?”

Priyanka shot daggers at Scarlett with her eyes.

“I don’t have a crush on her. She’s literally my best friend, you guys are delusional.”

“Sure…” Kiara stirred her chocolate. “But it’s been what? Almost two years since she graced us with her presence?”

“Yeah, her parents didn’t want her to travel alone last time so her father flew to New York.”

“All jokes aside,” Scarlett changed her irksome ‘let’s pick on Priyanka’ tone for a minute. “Are you going to tell her about…?”

At the age of fifteen, Priyanka discovered she didn’t like kissing boys.

It had been at a lame party in a basement, her classmates had invited her and one of them suggested they should play seven minutes in heaven. Priyanka was about to skip it and refill her paper cup with cheap vodka and orange juice when she got dragged by the wrist and pushed into the closet with a guy from the hockey team. She suspected he had a crush on her for the longest time and this was instigated by his friends but the moment the door was locked, she panicked.

Her friends tried to get her out of there but there were a few underdeveloped brains and much muscle blocking the door. So she guessed she was doing it. The guy wasn’t that bad –she liked to believe- he told her they didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to and he was what most girls of the classroom referred to as «handsome». Priyanka shouted she was okay to calm down her friends and figured the best she could do was getting over it once and for all.

It was her first kiss.

The guy had rough lips and a slippery tongue and it was in the middle of all that smooching when his hand went under her lower back that she knew, she wasn’t enjoying it at all. She pushed the guy aside and used the back of her hand to clean her lips, she’d need some mouthwash as well. He asked if everything was okay but she was too condescending and told him that she was feeling dizzy.

The door was unlocked when he asked his friends to do it. Priyanka walked back –ashamed-to her group of friends as Kiara told them they were all disgusting and how stupid the game was. Priyanka called her brother from a phone upstairs and left soon after. For the first time, she was quiet on the way back home.

Later that night when she was laying on her bed in the darkness, she couldn’t stop thinking about it, thinking about how she was supposed to feel kissing that guy -any guy- or thinking about the fact that she wasn’t even remotely attracted to boys but mostly, thinking how she so wished that guy was someone else, how she wished that guy was a girl.

The following week at school the not-so-nice-guy had told everyone that Priyanka was basically a slut and if it wasn’t because she was so wasted, they could’ve gone to third base in that closet that very night. Priyanka wasn’t ashamed anymore, she was angry. Very angry. During lunch, she walked directly towards him and exposed him in front of everyone, not only denying the absurdity of those rumors but also stating that she would never even consider touching his small dick.

After that, Priyanka was done with guys, boys, and men in general.

She had a heart-to-heart conversation with her friends afterward but –to no one’s surprise- she ended up with the least heterosexual and most supportive group of friends in the world.

Still… she hadn’t been able to tell Lemon yet. She had tried but there was something about phone calls that didn’t help at all, she wanted to tell her in person, she wanted to see her face and know that everything was okay. And she planned to do it during her visit.

“I’ll try.” Priyanka stated, hoping the universe cooperated with her.

“Good. So you can make out under the mistletoe next.” There she was again.

“Okay, you two,” She pointed at Scarlett and Kiara. “you have to stop it or I’m going to do you guys dirty and you know I can.”

They started laughing, clearly taking Priyanka’s threaten lightly.

“That’s it! You,” She directed toward Kiara. “I have seen you drooling over Kyne the entire semester.”

Kiara went pale.

“And you two…” She turned back to Scarlett and Juice that were cackling sitting on the couch. “Yes, I’m talking to you, do you really believe I haven’t seen the way you look at each other, those stolen glances, the subtle touches? Please, is this a Jane Austen novel or what? You ain’t that smooth.”

“Hey! I didn’t say anything!” Juice protested.

Scarlett’s mouth turned into a thin line and her ears were suddenly pink colored. She murmured something Priyanka couldn’t catch but rhymed with «witch».

“Sorry girl, I warned you heads would roll and I’m not leaving any survivors if that’s what it takes.”

Scarlett put her hands up as a sign of surrender. “I respect it, you’re a bitch but I respect it.”

So that was the word she used.

Lemon would arrive at any minute now.

Her father was picking her up from the airport, they would have lunch at some fancy restaurant in the city center and then he’d drop Lemon at Priyanka’s house until sunset –that was when she had to leave again to have dinner with her relatives.

Priyanka kept moving her right leg, restless while sitting on the couch, eyes nailed on the window.

“Priyanka, take the trash out, it’s your turn.” Her mother told her casually as she directed upstairs.

“Mom!” She complained. “I’m doing important things.”

“You’re sitting on the couch.”

“My point exactly.”

Her mom gave her the glare. “Trash. Out. Now.”

She grumbled but did as asked.

Priyanka put on an extra thick coat over her jeans and knitted orange sweater, adjusted her wool socks and boots, and adventured to the exterior world of the Canadian winter wonderland. She only had to walk a few steps but she could feel her body freezing with the icy breeze. The snow was blinding white and she could hear the whistle of the wind blowing and the sound of her own teeth chattering.

She didn’t even hear the sound of the car stopping right at the entrance of her house nor the door closing or the steps.

She barely had time to turn around when an identified running person hit her like an asteroid. Lemon was small but she still got the strength to tackle Priyanka down with a hug. She didn’t even notice whether the snow was cold or not.

“Hey!” She was still down on the ground and needed to turn around once Lemon moved. “You’re here…”

The vision was dazzling. Lemon’s face, her eyes, her smile from ear to ear with full teeth showing, her blonde hair falling like a cascade over her rosy cheeks. It was as if she had been taken from an Andersen fairytale or a Tchaikovsky composition, ice queens and fairies fluttered around Priyanka’s head.

“I’m here! Can you believe it?”

She was still pretty much straddled on Priyanka, making the brunette blush and hoping she could blame it on the weather. Finally, Lemon got to stand up and helped her friend to get on her feet again.

Lemon was irretrievably tiny but there was something different about her since the last time they had seen each other. She looked less like the little girl Priyanka remembered and more like a teen pop star of the magazines they used to read with her slightly curled lighter hair, pink glossy lips, longer lashes… She was wearing a yellow sweater and a white puffy jacket with matching fake fur around the neck, corduroy pants, and cream boots. Even her glasses were stylish now.

“Wait, are you taller?” She observed.

“No, you just shrunk in the washing machine.”

Lemon elbowed her and then turned to wave at her dad that was still in the car.

“He told me he saw you in the supermarket the other day and asked what does your mom feed you with so I could get some too.”

Priyanka laughed at loud. “He got you there.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“But enough with my height, let’s go inside, I think I got snow on my socks and I don’t want to catch a cold or wait until another short person attacks me.”

“Hey, you said enough with the height.”

“No, no. I clearly said mine, not yours.”

Lemon rolled her eyes and there it was the old Lemon she knew so well, the exact dose just a little less sugary and a bit sour.

They went to Priyanka’s room, she shared it with her middle sister but she was currently busy practicing at music school with her cello for her end of the year concert, there were a few trophies, certificates, and distinctions on her side of the room meanwhile Priyanka’s was a collage of pictures with the girls, an album cover Avril Lavigne, one large poster she got from the local cinema when Spice World was brought back for a special feature and she forced her friends to watch it for the millionth time, some random doodles she did in class and of course, photos and postcards Lemon had sent to her.

The blonde smiled when she spotted a picture of them from their first day of primary school, their backpacks were bigger than them.

They removed the heavy coats, Priyanka changed her wet socks for new ones and a pair of slippers. Lemon was prying into the mess that was her desk, her fingers roaming through her school books, comic books, magazines, and scattered papers as if she tried to figure out if she still knew the owner of that space in the way she used to.

They sat on Priyanka’s bed on the nothing-like-Priyanka flowery blanket one of her aunts got her for a birthday. Priyanka’s mom dropped by to say hi and left a tray with two smoky cups of tea.

“I love your mom, she read my mind.” Lemon said, wrapping her hands around the warm porcelain.

“She’s being nice only because you’re around.” Priyanka took a sip of her tea. “I wonder if it’s a good time to tell her that I broke one of her flowerpots when I was practicing with the skateboard.”

“You’re the worst.” Lemon giggled.

“Certified. Three years in a row.”

The blonde shook her head. “Does she still make that incredible curry with potatoes?”

“Yeah, once in a while.”

“Oh my God… I tell you I’ve dreamt about it. You know I love Christina to dead but she can’t cook at all.”

Lemon, at some point after the divorce, had stopped addressing her mother as “mom” and now she called her by her first name.

“Do you remember she always made dinner with dry spaghetti and can sauce?”

“You laugh all you want but that’s my comfort food till this day.” Priyanka defended her.

“She doesn’t even cook it anymore, now we buy it all pre-cooked or already cooked. She might even forget how to boil water. Anyway, we’ve tried a thousand restaurants but I swear to you, Pri, no one can cook like your mom.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve missed one of us.”

Lemon threw a pillow at her face.

“Of course I’ve missed you, dumbass.”

They did each other’s nails, Priyanka ended up with a light blue shade Lemon had brought for her and it was allegedly the same color as Tiffany’s, and the blonde insisted she had to draw a white ribbon to make it look like the jewel’s teeny tiny boxes.

From there, Priyanka could see everything. Lemon frowning, concentrated on her task, the way she batted her lashes, her pretty eyes, the little freckles she had over her nose, the shape of her cupid bow turned into an unintentional pout… her lips.

Priyanka gulped and then Lemon caught her staring.

“What is it?” She looked for some hint in Priyanka’s face. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No… I’m just making sure you don’t fuck up the design.”

Lemon rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly. I’m almost done.”

While Priyanka’s nails got dried, they talked about school, classes they liked and disliked, teachers that they loathed or loved, then about their plans after turning sixteen, Priyanka told her about the driving lessons and Lemon told her she wanted to dress up as Cher Horowitz –of course- for her birthday and by the time Priyanka started with Lemon’s nails, she was reviving her dance audition.

“I tell you, Pri, there was a moment I doubt I’d got in. It was a flash but I felt it in my stomach I thought I was going to puke and mess everything up.”

“Hey, but you didn’t. I’m sure you nailed it.”

The blonde sighed. “Still, New York is like… everything’s so fast and everyone’s competitive to the point where you can’t get distracted or someone else will go after what you have. It’s nice to be here for a change, this is the only place I can really relax. It sucks that I can only stay for a week and five of those seven days I have to visit my dad’s relatives out of town.” She met Priyanka’s eyes. “I wish I could get to spend more time with you, you know?”

Priyanka’s heart skipped a beat. At that moment what she suspected but didn’t dare to say at loud became a reality, all those corny songs from the 90’s suddenly made sense, all the movies Hollywood had sold labeled as «romance» acquired a new meaning and she finally understood what «to have butterflies in one’s stomach» really felt like.

She liked Lemon. She liked her best friend…. And she liked her a lot.

That was the reason she hadn’t been able to tell her about what happened earlier that year at the party because it wasn’t just that she wanted to kiss a girl instead of a guy, she wanted to kiss one particular girl and she was right in front of her at that very moment.

They never warned her about it, they never told her that she would live normally until the day she’d realize she could harbor such feeling inside, that one day she’d just… know.

She almost dropped the nail polish bottle over the blanket.

“Oh, careful.” Lemon grabbed it just in time. She looked at her friend with concern in her eyes. “Pri, are you okay? You look… pale.”

“What? Ah, yeah… it’s nothing. I’m recovering from a cold I caught, that’s it…” She shook her head and took a breath of air. “I’m sorry, you were saying…”

“About the dance academy,” Lemon resumed her story. “the girls think I can make it through the next three years, and then I can major in dancing, I might even get a scholarship if I do outstandingly well.”

There was something, a little detail there that wasn’t… right.

“I hope you can visit me soon, you gotta meet the girls; you’re going to love them. Rosé and Jan are also Geminis, I guess that’s why I get along with them so well. Luckily, Jan would be my roommate if she gets her scholarship as well and…”

“Roommate?” Priyanka asked.

“Yeah… for college? We’re thinking about moving in together because rents are expensive even for the smallest studio apartment advertised. It’s a nightmare.”

“But wait… what happened with the plan? Our plan?”

Lemon opened her mouth to reply and then shut it.

“You forgot about it…”

“No! You know I didn’t… but… my options are wider now, I have to think forward and… did you seriously think-?”

“Yes. I did.” Priyanka didn’t even let her finish speaking.

Her soul had been just crushed.

“Pri, that’s not what I mean. We made that promise when we were ten, things have… changed since then.”

“Maybe they have changed for you but I’m still stuck here, I’m still counting on our plans… our promises. I’m still counting on you. The only thing that has changed is you and your pompous New Yorker glamorous lifestyle.”

“Oh, so it was so easy for me, right? It’s not like I had to attend a school where I didn’t know anyone, being the new girl and sitting alone during lunchtime for months while going through my parents’ divorce… I hated it the first months, Priyanka, I really did and I swear that talking to you on the phone and dancing were the only things that kept me alive…” Her voice cracked. “It wasn’t until I met my friends that I felt like I could do it… that it wasn’t completely waste of time and that I wasn’t a totally useless person.”

“Lemon… you never said-”

There was a single sparkly tear falling down her cheek.

“Well, I hope you’re happy now. There you have it, my life isn’t a glamorous as you thought, is it?”

“It’s because that’s what you’ve told me! Maybe if you didn’t sugarcoat things I could’ve helped you…”

“And do what? And then what? You’d get tired of me with all those problems and we’d eventually drift apart. I’d become a burden for you.”

“What? Where did you get that from? Let me be your friend, that’s what friends do… they help each other during the rough times too, they tell each other things.”

“Oh, and you surely have told me everything that’s being going on here.”

Priyanka remained silent.

“I still talk with some people from school here and there… why didn’t you tell me about what happened at that party?”

“Lemon, that’s completely different…”

“Is it? Because from my perspective, it looks like we’re hiding things from each other now.”

“And breaking promises as well for what it seems.”

Lemon looked at her, she seemed hurt and it broke Priyanka’s heart to see her like that.

She wanted to reach her and hold her hand, hug her and tell her that everything was alright but at the same time, she was angry. She couldn’t have it both ways. It wasn’t fair.

Priyanka’s mother called them from downstairs; Lemon’s father was there to pick her up.

“I better go.” She grabbed her coat. “I’ll be back in five days if you want… whatever.”

She was gone before Priyanka could say something and frankly, she felt that if she opened her mouth it was going to get worse. It wasn’t until the girl left the house and she heard the car getting lost in the distance that she collapsed on her bed and started crying on the closest pillow she had.

Five days after, it was a New Year already but little had changed since they last met.

Lemon visited Priyanka’s house only to discover she wasn’t there.

“Could you please tell her I came to say goodbye?” She bit her inner cheek to contain a sob.

She had a flight to take back to New York.

Priyanka had taken the family’s car without permission and she had driven for a few hours, making sure there was no chance of their paths crossing. It was petty; she knew she was being childish avoiding her rather than talk things through and she was going to regret it and hate herself later, damn, she was going to get grounded for months but who cared? At that moment, the only thing that was on her mind was that she couldn’t see Lemon.

Not like that.

She did her wrong but she was partly right. Priyanka wasn’t being honest with her and she couldn’t tell her all the truth to restore their friendship.

She couldn’t tell her that she was gay and that she was in love with her because it would change it all.

It would destroy their friendship entirely.

Lemon would never reciprocate those stupid feelings of her.

Maybe if she put enough distance between them, those feelings would simply fade, go away, and right now, New York sounded distant enough.

If it was on her to do the hardest part for the sake of all the years they’ve been together, then she was going to do whatever it’d take.

Tears scorched her eyes.

At the age of fifteen, Priyanka loved her best friend Lemon but she also hated her.

[ivystjamess]

𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑰𝑵 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑩𝑨𝑫 𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴𝑺...

WHO: @davisgools @riverwashington @kennagiardi @ivystjamess ft. @jazziejazxo, @julienschuester and the other new directions. WHERE: mckinley high auditorium WHEN: monday, 1/25. WHAT: vocal adrenaline tries to knock the new directions down a peg. 

ALL WEEKEND vocal adrenaline had done near nothing but rehearse for this specific number. truth be told, the idea only popped into ivy’s head after julien schuester had ghosted her, but the drive increased tenfold after a game of spin the bottle during friday evening’s party. it had finally gotten through to her she should just stop trying to prove she wasn’t as harsh as she was coming across. ivy st.james was harsh and no longer was she afraid to lean into it. hell hath no fury like a woman scorned...so all weekend long they rehearsed their asses off. no matter how many times amber near puked or kenna cried. this number was going to scare new directions. this number was going to make a statement. 

bright and early monday morning, clad in 80s work out gear and their standard blue vocal adrenaline jackets, they made their way into the mckinley auditorium. they were in no rush to draw attention to themselves, so they stretched and chatted and warmed themselves up until jaz evans could be spotted passing the auditorium, doing a double take, and running off to the choir room with a shout, “emergency! vocal adrenaline is in the auditorium and they look scary AND sexy. move it people!” 

the plan was working. 

it wasn’t before long the new directions began to file into the auditorium. and by the time they were, vocal adrenaline was standing strong, a steel wall of focus and talent with their arms crossed. ivy could tell that they were nervous, and they hadn’t even gotten to the performance yet. just as she noted julien uttering a “you gotta be kidding me” under his breath, davis began speaking “hello new directions.” he began, a devious smirk dancing it’s way across his face. “we heard you did mash ups last week...” davis paused, just so he could smugly look out at the lowly mckinley kids. after taking in their panic, he concluded, “we thought we would show you how it’s actually done.”

in an instant, that solid wall of bodies turned their backs to the new directions as the lights in the auditorium dimmed. notes of each song played, overlapping one another as one by one each member of vocal adrenaline shed their blue jackets to reveal the 80s work out gear beneath it. in perfect timing, river, who was at the end of the line threw hers off only to turn around and begin singing “common love isn’t for us.” as she passed each member of vocal adrenaline, they each turned around to get in formation for the elaborate choreography they had put together.

completely in sync, they began their routine with near perfect vocals and movement. vocal adrenaline was a well oiled machine, and just in case anyone had forgot, this number was sure to remind them. 

river continued to sing, dancing at the front of the formation. though the reaction of the new directions as a collective wasn’t lost on her. while she might have had her reservations about the whole situation and whether or not it was a good idea she continued to belt out her parts to physical while flawlessly executing the choreography. despite her sudden reluctance to the number, she did her part with what seemed like effortless excellence. 

ivy, on the other hand, was basking in the impact this number was having on her former teammates. it was exactly what she had wanted. with each move, she was sure to give 1000%. she was on a bit of a power trip, and if it wasn’t obvious already, the invigorating feeling that washed over her as she emerged from a formation to sing “but i got smarter, i got harder in the nick of time, honey, I rose up from the dead, i do it all the time” made it all the more obvious.

while as a whole this had been a page taken by ivy out of her father’s book and she wanted it to mess with the new directions as a team, she didn’t shy away from making eye contact with julien during her solo just so he knew that dangling that carrot of a phone call in front of her face resulted in, ‘yes this is my doing, yes i’m mad at you, and yes i want you to lose at regionals.’ she shamelessly stared him down until the choreography swept her away into a different formation while river sang the chorus of physical. even in another group singing supporting vocals to river, ivy put an angry fervor into everything she did. 

when the physical chorus wrapped, ivy emerged center stage once again at the center of a smaller formation comprised of herself, kenna, and river to continue singing look what you made me do. it was the perfect message to her former teammates, and she hoped the intricacy of this routine vocally and physically scared them. if it didn’t, well then she hadn’t done her job well enough. 

now cutting in with a “i don't wanna live another life, ‘cause this one's pretty nice” kenna swapped places with ivy to be front and center.

There were a lot of things Vocal Adrenaline was good at. Insane choreography and performances would be the first thing to come to a person’s head, but there was nothing like a good old fashion psych-out and Vocal Adrenaline knew just how to deliver such. The weekend was dreadful, so dreadful in fact that Kenna had cried multiple times, and skipped out on some McKinley party, but any and all tears and dread were gone from her mind as soon as the team was filing in the auditorium. Kenna had skipped her last period of the day to have her mom do her hair and makeup. At first, Kendra Giardi thought she was being insane but once Kenna explained that they were doing it to psych out New Directions, she was already teasing Kenna’s hair and pulling out neon eyeshadow.

Once New Directions had settled into the auditorium, music started, jackets were pulled off, and as soon as River’s voice echoed through the auditorium, Kenna’s body began following to the beat of the music in the perfectly choreographed routine. After River and Ivy’s verses, Kenna pulled herself up to the center of the stage to begin her part of the song while keeping up with the choreography. She may have looked like a baby bird waiting for its mama to come home, but in that moment, she looked scary and as Kenna finished her portion of her solo, she came to one conclusion. Vocal Adrenaline would win Regionals.

as the number reached a mash up of bridges, davis could be heard singing an oddly fitting ‘know that you’re toxic’ then joining amber in singing the iconic background ahhh’ing, also from toxic while kenna and river took the vocal part for physical, while ivy repeatedly oh’d. not once was anyone out of sync, flat, or lost as how to proceed. vocal adrenaline was undoubtedly tearing it up on stage and tainting the mckinley auditorium in the process. (though some, like davis, likely considered their presence alone a blessing.) if this didn’t psych out at least some of the new directions well...it was difficult to say what would then.

when the bridge reached it’s climax, ivy cut in with ‘i don’t trust nobody and nobody trusts me, i’ll be the actress starring in your bad dreams.’ as she repeated it steadily, davis and amber continued sounding with the ahh’s from toxic and eventually river and kenna cut in with another ‘all night, i’ll riot with you’ and continued on with physical as ivy delivered the staple line from ‘look what you made me do’ in a “i’m sorry, but the old taylor can’t come to the phone right now. why? oh, ‘cause she’s dead!” 

with the peak of the song reached, vocal adrenaline carried on with their respective parts and absolutely killing their routing. by the time it wrapped, they were all left a little breathless, but the team stood triumphantly, knowing they couldn’t have done a better job. when the lights came up, some members began whispering to another, others moved to grab their jackets, but ivy stood center stage staring at the stunned new directions, obviously very pleased with herself. “cat got your tongues?” ivy asked, quirking her head at their silence. it was apparent at this point she was just trying to rub everything in. “hopefully you guys like find your voices in time before this weekend.” she said with a condescending pout, “good luck at regionals, by the way.” ivy added, taking her jacket from davis who was handing it to her and gesturing they should go. “don’t choke.” ivy advised with a petty smile before being ushered off stage. 

so without another word, ivy, kenna, river, and davis along with the rest of vocal adrenaline proudly walked out of the mckinley high auditorium, leaving the new directions to sit with (and hopefully shake in fear at) all that had just happened.

THE END.

[threeletterslife]

[Finale] 20 | 143

→ previous | series masterlist | masterlist

→ summary: Not to get all philosophical, but life is just a rollercoaster from start to finish. You’re happy to say that you’ve been cruisin’ at the top for a while now. Who knows when you’ll hit rock bottom again? You’ve gotta live that nice life while it lasts. It’s just the question of who will join your fun...

→ genre: 85% fluff, 10% crack, 5% angst | text!au

→ warnings: profanity

→ wordcount: 912 

"Ujin!" you call. "Come downstairs!"

"Mommy, I can't!" your five-year-old daughter calls right back. "My cookie!"

You and Jimin exchange nervous looks.

"Shit, Y/N," Jimin mutters urgently. "You said she would forget about it!"

"Well, apparently not," you whisper right back. "You should've left at least half of it!"

"You told me to eat all of it!"

"Okay, I'm sorry, but what are we gonna do now?"

"Mommy!!!!!! Daddy!!!!!!!"

"Fuck," you and Jimin both whisper.

"Ujin, honey, are you looking for your cookie?" you call.

"Yes! It's gone!!" Ujin screams. She sounds close to tears, which is definitely not a good sign for both Jimin and your ears.

"Mommy and I'll help you find it, Ujin!" Jimin says. "Come downstairs or we'll be late for your godfather's play!"

"Godfather?" Ujin perks up at the mention of Seokjin. "Will auntie be there too?"

"Of course," you say. "Your uncle never goes anywhere without his wife, you know."

"Will Kalista be there?"

"Yes, Ujin, she will," Jimin says. "So will uncle JK."

"But what about uncle Tae and Yoongs?"

"Yes, yes, they'll be there too! Hurry, Ujin! We don't want to be late!"

"Okay, mommy!" your daughter yells. "You can help me find my cookie later!"

You and Jimin give each other a look.

"If it isn't my favorite little girl!" Jungkook laughs as Ujin giggles and rushes into his arms. "How have you been?"

"I'm been great, uncle JK!" she squeals. "Mommy and daddy are going to help me find my lost cookie!"

Jungkook gives you and Jimin a knowing look.

'He ate it, not me,' you mouth at him as Jimin gives you a little shove.

"Well, that's quite nice of them!" Jungkook laughs, "but we should go and see the play now, right?"

"Yes!" Ujin squeals as Jungkook hoists her up and takes her away.

"Sometimes, I think she likes him more than us," Jimin whispers in your ear.

"He's just really great with kids," you whisper back, snorting. "Besides, he doesn't eat her cookies!"

Jimin mocks hurt as he places a hand on his chest. "Y/N!"

"What?" you grin. "I'm just saying the truth!" Your husband huffs as you laugh and link your arm with his. "C'mon," you say, "we should catch up, don't you think?"

"Or... I can take you out on a date... alone," Jimin giggles. "It's been a while since we've had alone time, don't you think?"

Your eyes brighten as you process the insanely ingenious idea. "You know what? Yes. Ujin's in great hands right now. Where do you wanna go?"

"I was thinking... Wattbucks?"

"Even after all these years, that place never gets old."

By the time you come back from your date with Jimin, cheeks flushed and eyes shining, the play is over. You and your husband make your way over to the backstage where you find your friends and daughter.

"We're back!" you say enthusiastically.

Your cousin snorts. "She didn't even notice you were gone."

He's right. Ujin and her friend, Kalista, are completely emersed in some book as Uvin and Jungkook read it for them, reenacting the voices and actions to fit the characters.

"Ujin wanted to read the original book of the play," Seokjin chuckles. "She really liked it."

"You're influencing her too much," you laugh. "Pretty soon, Park Ujin's gonna be begging me to join the drama club."

Jimin snorts. "She wouldn't. With all that math blood in her, she's bound to choose the STEM path."

Seokjin grins. "Sure... Sure."

Ujin is already in seventh grade. When people had said 'they grow up so fast,' you hadn't thought they meant that quickly. It's insane how the once toddling toddler and screechy child had grown up to a rather mature pre-teen.

Now, Ujin was happily attending her junior high school with stellar grades and high confidence. She was your and Jimin's daughter, all right.

Math olympiad tryouts were just around the corner too—but you weren't worried at all. Well, that was until...

"Hey, mom? Dad?" Ujin asks as she rushes downstairs. She's been getting her hands on your makeup these days, and honestly, she resembles a clown at the moment with her red cheeks and bright pink lips and too-white foundation. But she'll learn with time.

"Yes?" Jimin says as he looks up from his morning coffee. "Oh honey..." he mumbles as he sees her clowned-up face and flashy clothing. "Are you sure you want to go to school like that?"

"Why? Do I look weird?" Ujin asks as she puts a hand on her hip. "I think I look great. Right, mom?"

You stutter over your words. "Well, uh, Ujin... Uh, I mean, you don't look too horrible..."

Your daughter sighs. "It's art, mom. I'm just testing out my artistic capabilities!"

"Yes, yes, okay," Jimin quickly agrees. "What was it that you wanted to tell us?" He glances at the clock to make sure none of you are late to get to school or work.

"Well, you know how I wanted to join math and science olympiad?" she asks.

"Of course!" you reply, eyes brightening. "Not bragging or anything, but when your mother was younger, she was the captain of the team!"

"Yeah, well, about that..." Ujin sniffles. "I mean..." she trails off.

You and Jimin look at her expectantly.

"Well," Ujin sighs. "I really, really hate math. I want to be a screenwriter. Can I join theatre?"

You don't know who fainted first; you or Jimin.

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 43

~*~Emma~*~

 I remembered Will from a couple of parties and Kirk and Boone's wedding. Nice guy. Apparently, he and some of his friends thought I was the extra in a three-way with Eli and Angie. Eli didn't see a reason he should correct them. Angie invited Alissa out on one of our girls’ nights and she became one of the group. It had probably been six months since I’d last seen her. I liked her and we got along well. The friendship had never progressed past those nights. I can't remember if I met her before or after Jimmy and I broke up. Either way, I moved, and we only ever saw each other on nights out. Now I find she's married to one of Sebastian's best friends. We have at least three friends in common and our friends' group overlaps. Very cool, but very weird. Almost like we were supposed to meet.

 Wednesday I got the photoshoot "before" picture about fifteen minutes before my kids arrived. Looked like Sebastian in the morning. Hair a little messy, a crease on his face from his pillow, and his eyes not quite awake. His beard had grown in more and I ran my fingers over it in the picture, knowing it would be gone in the after. I didn’t dislike either version. I was just used to the way I’d met him.

 My aide took the kids to lunch and I went in search of my after. The first thing I noticed was his beard was trimmed super close, where it was long stubble, but it was still there. I guess they'd changed their mind. His hair was styled not that different than he did except every hair was in place and I was betting it was fixed where it wouldn't move. Makeup perfected his skin tone and somehow made his eyes even bluer. Maybe it was the dark blue robe he was wearing. It had been hours since he'd sent, but I still sent a text telling him how handsome he looked.

 I grabbed my lunch out of my mini-fridge and headed down to Mallory's room. I'd made some pasta salad loaded with veggies while talking with Sebastian last night and was looking forward to eating. Our secretary was walking toward me with a bouquet of cookies. They were shaped and iced like crayons, rulers, apples, notepads, and glue. Outside of teacher appreciation week that usually signaled a parent had gotten pissed at a grade or consequence and sided with their kid. At least, until they got both sides of the story. Cookies were good apologies and could be shared with the other grade level teachers who were sure to know every word you said and the tone of voice you used.

 "Who got yelled at this time, Jamie?"

 She lifted an eyebrow, "You."

"No one’s yelled at me." That meant they were from Sebastian.

"Then your new boyfriend sent cookies instead of flowers."

I laughed, "Good possibility." I took them from her. "Take one for you and Kim."

"I was hoping you'd say that. They smell delicious."

 I walked into Mallory's room with my healthy pasta salad and not at all healthy cookies. "I brought dessert." Our lunch group made appreciative noises.

Cindy laughed, "Who's parent did you piss off?"

I shook my head, "No one."

Mallory snatched the card while my hands were full, "I believe these are from the new man." I went ahead and sat down, trusting the card would be G-rated. Mallory read, "Halfway into the last full week. Hope this helps you all make it through. Sebastian." She looked to me, "Sebastian? That's a mouthful."

"Yes, he is."

 Before we dug into the cookies, I had everyone take one and gather together. I'd send the picture as a thank you. They'd heard about him Monday after the tournament and I talked more about him today. I wasn't ready to share him yet. I was a little surprised word hadn't traveled from the tournament, but I guess there wasn't enough overlap. Outside of my team, where I worked wasn’t common knowledge. This was an advantage of not working and living in the same school district. If there was gossip it was more than likely identifying me as the setter on that team than a teacher. The moment his last name entered my school it would be a topic of conversation in all three buildings. I don't know exactly what that would mean. I'd been here four years and it was common knowledge where I went over winter break. Ed may eclipse Sebastian, but not when you throw Marvel in the mix. We have superhero day during our anti-drug week. I see the Marvel costumes and t-shirts. There'd be a lot of talk. Once the kids were gone, I’d feel more comfortable sharing who this new man is. The kids could make this a zoo.

 Mallory, Cindy, and I were the last left. Cindy asked, "Will we ever meet this Sebastian? See a picture."

 "I’m sure." I smiled, "We haven't known each two weeks yet. It's good and I'm protecting the new relationship like you do a new kitten. It needs to grow a little more."

 Mallory agreed, "You know the Barbie Bitches at the high school are going to want all the details."

 I did know that. "I’m not ready to share."

Cindy took our trash to the cafeteria while Mal and I cleaned up the tables. We sat down to finish our drinks, stretching out our break as long as possible. Her kids coming into the room was my cue to head back to my room as mine would be a few minutes behind them. It wasn’t quite time yet.

My text alert went off with a picture of Sebastian. I reached for my phone, but not so quick that Mallory didn’t see. Her eyes went wide and I held up a finger, “Give me one minute and I'll show you.” He was wearing a dark blue suit, with an unbuttoned white shirt, and an untied bow tie. He looked amazing and about two seconds away from sex. I put my hand over the screen and pushed it toward Mal, "Can I trust you to tell no one. I'm not ready for this to be here."

 Mal put her hand over mine, "You know I'm not telling anyone. If that's who I think it is, the kids finding out will make Field Day crazy. Too much unstructured time to gossip and ask you questions." She started lifting her hand, "Let me see."

I moved my hand from the phone to my mouth.

Mallory looked at the picture a long time before she said, "Yep, that’s a Sebastian. Damn, Emma, you met him," she tapped my screen, "in the grocery?"

I nodded.

"Now I really wish I would have come to volleyball. Although, I probably would have just stared."

 "No, you wouldn't. A few minutes and you would see he's like anyone else. Nothing special."

 She grinned, "Except to you." Her kids started coming into the room.

 I stood, "Except to me."

 As I headed to the door she called out, "We're sitting in the back at faculty meeting."

 Sebastian had sent another picture by the time recess rolled around. He was in black jeans and a t-shirt a least one size too small.

 Emma ~ Might have to cut you out of that shirt. This is not a complaint.

Sebastian ~ It was stretchy.

 Emma ~ How is it going?

Sebastian ~ Good. I'm sitting in a chair having my hair changed.

 Emma ~ What are they doing to it?

 Sebastian ~ Making it look like it did when I got here. Apparently, people sleep in very expensive watches. I' II be done soon. No tommorow.

Emma ~ What will you do with the unexpected free time?

Sebastian ~ Clean my apartment.

 Emma ~ I was going to say you don't have to, but you do. Ha Ha, the first time at least.

Sebastian ~ Exactly. I’m pretty neat. Bathroom is a wreck.

Emma ~ Bathrooms always need cleaning. I have to run. Argument on the monkey bars.

Sebastian ~ Talk to you later.

 It would be Thursday night before we talked. Real-life set in. I had a volleyball game Wednesday night and Sebastian went out for drinks with the photographer once the shoot was over. I got home and was exhausted. We lost. I don't like to lose.

 Thursday during the day there were no texts. My guess is he got home late and drunk. Overslept. Busy at gym. Returns home to sleep off the night before. I was driving home when a call from Sebastian came in.

"Buna ziua, Sebasti-an.” <Good afternoon>  

 “Ce mai faci?” <How are you?>

 Thankfully he kept it simple. “Bine, tu?”  <Good and you?>

Sebastian switched to English. “I broke my phone. I pulled it out to text some woman, got elbowed by a guy on the sidewalk, and threw my phone on the ground. Screen shattered and I held it in my hand watching it slowly die. It just glitched and sputtered away in front of me."

"My poor, baby. Are you mourning the loss?"

 "Nope, an hour in an Apple store and I have a shiny new iPhone. They were able to transfer my data over. Good as new. That's why you hadn’t heard from me."

I smiled, "I thought you were sleeping one-off."

"I barely drank. Too much to do today. Sheets changed, bathroom clean, kitchen has some food, and the family room is clean. When are you going to be here?"

 "I got permission to leave a little early. I’ll definitely make the three o’clock train, but I’ll try and do the two. If that's ok with you?"

 “I'm not going anywhere after the gym. I'll be here waiting."

 "I'm excited. Seeing you. You with my friends and your friends. It’s going to be fun."

"It is."

Just to be sure. "Most excited about you."

"I like hearing that."

 I set my alarm a little early to give myself time to finish packing. I’m not normally an over-packer, but I couldn't decide on a dress for dinner. Or anything else. Insane. At least today wasn't a theme day I need to wear a costume for. I wore a pair of black capris and a bright pink top with rolled sleeves and a long zipper up the front. Up for school, a little less so for Sebastian.

 First text of the day.

Sebastian ~ Are you here yet?

 I had nothing but fun things planned for the day. Yesterday I'd had them vote for their favorite books and we read those at the top of every hour. We played math games, a science and social studies game show, and our top music and movement videos. I ate my lunch getting the STEM Lab cart and prepped everything for my assistant. The kids had been wonderful all day and I didn't feel the least bit guilty when I fled the building when she took them outside for recess.

 I waited until I was safely on the train to text Sebastian.

Emma ~ On my way

Sebastian ~ Early!

Emma ~ I’ll beat the worst of the traffic

Sebastian ~ Exactly what I was thinking.

Sebastian ~ I should shower.

 I put in my ear pods, clicking shuffle on my "Current Faves" playlist. This one changed all the time. Some never left the list. Recently there'd be an influx of happy love songs and sexy mood music. I think I even dozed off a couple of times. The closer I got the more butterflies were in my stomach. I was excited to see him, but a little nervous. I was going to his place. It would be different than surrounded by my stuff. I’m nervous about stupid stuff like where do I put my toothbrush, is it ok to look through the books in his extra room, what I do with my dirty clothes, and what if I get thirsty in the middle of the night? It's making me think back and wondering if I'd made him welcome... comfortable.

 I took a cab from the train station, looking out the window at the city I used to call home. I wasn't familiar with where he lived so I watched the numbers on the buildings. His building from the outside looked like an old converted warehouse. The brick was red with a gray stone line between every floor. Looked about seven floors. He'd texted me the entry code and I hopped on the elevator to the fifth.

 Sebastian opened his door so fast it was like he was standing beside it and I almost fell over. He was barefoot in ripped jeans and a Rutgers t-shirt. He held the door open with a hand high on the door. Add in the finger styled hair, bright blue eyes, and a smile that said he was happy to see me and he was the sexiest thing I'd ever laid eyes on. It was the barefoot part that got me.  "I'm here."

[bennyboyjones]

The Getaway (Ben Hardy Fanfic) Chapter Four

A/N: Hi! So, here is chapter 4 to my Ben Hardy AU Fanfic! There are currently several chapters written, which you can find on Wattpad, but I’ve decided to also upload it here as well. It might be a bit behind, but you’ll still get all the chaps eventually.

What it is: basically, a girl from a small town who is bored of her life decides to take a trip to Nice where she runs into ben, who is also running away from some shit and some romance ensues.

Word count: 3.7k

in this chapter: hahahaha just read it pls

WATTPAD LINK IF YOU WANT TO READ AHEAD

Spotify playlist

In case you missed it: MASTERLIST

day four

We were taking a walk up to Jardin des Arènes de Cimiez which was a gorgeous garden with ruins and was where the Cimiez Monastery was located. Ben let me decide what we were doing today after I shot down his idea of café hopping which I was sure he had suggested just to make fun of me.

It was going to be a relatively long walk up to the garden but I didn’t mind since it was a really nice day. We were planning to meet at Brassiere L’Olympia, which was where the place he was renting out was located (well, the place he was staying was above it) at around one in the afternoon.

I had woken up early so I could finally take a trip to the grocery store, had a breakfast that consisted of two coffees and two croissants, and went through at least four outfits before landing on one that was comfortable enough to survive the forty-five minute uphill walk and cute enough that it would make a better impression on Ben than what I had worn the night before. My dress was short, hitting an inch or two above my mid-thigh, it was a-line, only leaving a bit of wiggle room between my lower body and the fabric and had a small ruffle running around the bottom edge. It was white with lemons and green leaves and the top was tight, a small ruffle running at the neckline which showed a little bit of my (almost non-existent) cleavage and the straps were thick, tying into bows on my shoulders. It was sweet, but still a little sexy and matched well with white sneakers. I styled my hair into soft curls even though I knew I was going to end up putting it up at some point and kept my makeup as simple as I did on my first night: a red lip and a little mascara.

I had about an hour until I had to meet him and was a bit surprised he never called or texted to confirm.

Last night, before we parted ways, he personally entered his number into my phone and sent himself a text just to make sure that it worked. We had talked about our plans for today for almost thirty minutes last night, planning the day down to every detail, but I still felt uneasy about the fact that I hadn’t heard from him yet this morning. I knew that just because he didn’t text me or call me to make sure we were still on didn’t mean that we weren’t, because I hadn’t reached out to him either and I was pretty sure of our plans. Still, to settle the nervousness in my stomach, I picked up my phone and shot him a text letting him know I would be heading there soon. If he wanted to cancel, this was his chance.

I was completely lost in the excitement of something new. I called my mom last night, after getting back from the date to tell her about everything. All she did was laugh at me and tell me that I was way too deep into something that had only just begun. I knew she was right, but I didn’t stop myself from concocting romantic scenarios in my head last night about all the things that could happen today. This was my problem: I fell extremely easily. It took almost nothing for me to be completely enchanted by someone. I found myself crushing on guys I passed by once on the street, on guys who simply dressed nice, or wore chains (this really got me). But something about Ben felt different, like it was more than just a crush or infatuation. It felt as if it could really turn into something despite our inevitable doom in the form of my trip being over. When I said this to my mom, she laughed harder, “The amount of times I've heard this same speech while you were abroad…Don’t take my laughter wrong,” she said when she heard my annoyed sigh on the other end, “I’m happy for you, I really am—just slightly worried too.”

I had also texted my friends about him and they were requesting daily updates which I was more than happy to supply. I was in the middle of texting Annie back when I looked at the time and realized that I had to leave in the next five minutes if I wanted to be on time. I also realized that Ben never responded.

I went anyway and waited for him a lot longer than I should’ve. At the point where he was thirty minutes late, I decided to go without him, refusing to let being stood up spoil my day.

I really couldn’t wrap my mind around it; why go through all of that yesterday to stand me up? It didn’t make any sense and I knew that there had to be a good reason. If he genuinely didn’t want to see me or wasn’t interested he could’ve made it so much easier for himself; he didn’t have to speak up when he saw me in the cafe, he didn’t have to sit down or ask me to dinner, he didn’t have to ask me to get a drink, or call it a date, or demand to see me today. The only reasoning that made sense was that something had actually come up, but he could’ve given me a call, or answered my text to at least let me know that he couldn’t make it.

The walk up to the garden was taxing, it had only been fifteen minutes and I felt my breath getting short and my calves start to burn. I had my headphones in, the lady from Google Maps interrupting the voice of Matty Healy every few minutes to tell me where to turn.

I loved the style of the buildings and their colors, I loved the little patches of green and flowers in between car lanes and that heavily trafficked bridge I needed to cross had a footpath. I was about halfway there when my phone ‘dinged’ with a text.

*text pic*

I swiped back to the maps and locked my phone ignoring it, trying to focus on the landmarks I could use to find my way back without Google so I wasn’t costing myself an insane amount in data charges.

It was nice that he was sorry and I knew that I should be nice because he probably did have a good reason, but I was still mad and slightly hurt. Also, he just noticed the time? It was almost two p.m, what was he doing that an entire hour slipped by?

I took a deep breath when I got another notification.

*rest of text pic*

I told myself I wouldn’t go to dinner, that I wouldn’t give in without any kind of fight, but I knew myself better than that. I knew at some point today I would ending listening to his apology and explanation.

I let out a big sigh of relief when I saw the sign for the garden; I was sweating and out of breath and having to face the fact that I was severely out of shape. There were a good amount of people milling around the park that was just on the outside of the garden. There was a family playing some game with large ceramic balls, a few older men playing chess, and a few kids running around while their parents spoke to each other a few feet away.

The garden was filled with ruins, large white buildings falling apart and short walls of stone that may have at one time been tall, creating a grid-like maze over the field of grass. Arches were crumbling and I carefully made my way under them, easily getting lost in the field of stone. There was moss growing between bricks, some sprouting small flower-like weeds. I took pictures to send to my mom and then a few on the disposable, knowing how fairytale-like the garden would look on film, because it was fairytale-like. I could see it in a movie, or as an illustration in a story book. I found myself taking careful steps, afraid of disturbing the peace that seemed to belong there. It was quiet and I was the only one there, wandering around, running my hand along something ancient and beautiful.

I found a set of cement steps that seemed relatively new in comparison to the other paths I had walked and followed them up. There were a lot of steps, which took me further uphill. At the end, there was a large gate made of metal and stone which opened to the monastery. It was the color of copper but lighter, and looked so gothic with its arched windows and sharp spires. The architecture was beautiful, with stone laced over stone, ornate designs covering the entire outside. I moved past it and into its garden which was in full bloom.

I walked under arches covered in green, rows of blue, pink, red, and yellow flowers, bright under the sun and dancing with the breeze that came from our height. I strolled under latticed bowers and thought of Coleridge and his Lime Tree and took a deep breath, trying to make myself relax. I felt a well of emotion inside of me—it was all so beautiful and peaceful. I could hear the wind rustling leaves and whistling as it went through arch ways.

When I finally reached the ledge, I felt my breath get caught in my chest. It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen: all of Nice, laid out in front of me like a picture that needed painting. I sat on one of the benches that faced the view and took all of it in. I could see the mountains and the beach, the multicolored buildings filling the space between. I saw trees and patches of parks and gardens. I saw churches and cars the size of my hand.

And I started to cry. I had seen this view before and it had moved me in a way that I couldn’t explain, just as it had done now. There was something in that, being alone, on that hill, seeing everything in the quiet. There was something humbling about being there and seeing everything, having the view of a god.

I closed my eyes and let the breeze brush over my face and wished I could stay there forever. I never wanted that moment to end. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to get that feeling back, but I was reliving it as if it were the first time. It was in moments like that I stopped worrying about the shit that brought me there in the first place and just felt immense gratitude. I felt it weigh heavy on my chest, reminding me how lucky I was to be there, how lucky I was that I got to experience that level of beauty.

I felt someone sit at the other end of the bench causing it to tilt with the welcome of their weight. I opened my eyes and tried to sneakily wipe my tears away so whoever it was didn’t think I was crazy. I didn’t look at them, keeping my eyes trained on the view in front of me.

“I’m sorry I stood you up.”

I looked over at the sound of his voice and saw Ben sitting at the end of the bench. I wasn’t very surprised, since he seemed to have a habit of showing up in places I didn’t expect him to. I didn’t say anything, but stared at him.

“I really wanted to do this with you today. Really, I did—I guess I still kind of am.” He tried out a light laugh but stopped once he saw that I didn’t react. He moved closer to me so we were only a few inches apart. “Seriously, I wanted to be here. I wanted to see it all with you, I did. I just…” He trailed off. When I still didn’t say anything and turned my attention back to the view, he rested one arm on the bench behind me and ran his other hand over his face.

I knew I was being cold and a huge part of me wanted to lean into his side, let him wrap his arm around me and accept his apology without any explanation. That part of me didn’t understand what the big deal was if I was so sure this would only be a fling, if none of this really mattered in the long run. But the part of me that was winning wouldn’t give it up that easy. I didn’t like being stood up and if I just let it slide without putting up a fight at all, what would stop it from happening again?

“I got a call from an ex…fiancé.”

I turned to him, “You were engaged?

“For a really short time, like three months and it ended almost a whole year ago. Calling it off was kind of the start of the reevaluation of my entire life.”

“You called it off?”

“Yeah…I didn’t even want to get married.” He laughed lightly.

I turned my entire body towards him, completely interested in this story, “So why get engaged?”

“We had been dating for two and a half years and I was twenty-six, it just seemed like what I was supposed to do—I don’t even think I was really in it anymore, you know? Like, I wasn’t there because I even wanted to be, but because it was easy.” He shrugged, “I know that sounds awful.”

It was my turn to laugh, “Oh, trust me, I know.” I took a breath, “I’ve been on and off with the same guy for years and I’ve come to realize that it’s been out of comfort and not so much love.”

He furrowed his brow, “So, right now, are you on or off?”

“Definitely off. I broke it off for real before I came here.”

“Oh, so I’m your rebound?”

I hit him lightly in the chest, “You’re not a rebound—well…” I joked.

He lifted his hand off the bench and twirled my hair around the ends of his fingers, “If I am, I’m okay with it.”

We were walking around the garden when I realized I was missing a huge chunk of the story, “Wait, you never told me why she called.”

“Who?” He looked confused before realization dawned on his face, “Oh! Well, obviously, we shared a flat while we were together and she stayed when we broke it off. My name isn’t on the lease anymore, but she still calls me whenever something is wrong as an excuse to talk.”

“Ah, she’s still not over you.”

“She was the one who wanted to get married, who was still in love and…I really hurt her, so I always take the call. She called because my mum told her I was here and was upset that I didn’t let her know about my trip.”

I nodded in understanding.

“It wasn’t a fun conversation to have. Then I called my mum and I lost track of time talking to her. I’m really sorry. I know I’ve said it about seven hundred times, but I’m not going to stop.”

I nudged him with my shoulder and told him he was forgiven.

“So your guy,” he offered his arm to me and I linked mine through, “what exactly am I up against?”

“Not much,” I admitted. “His name is Liam and I met him at school. He’s a business major, never really understood the writing thing, he’s good looking but,” I looked over at Ben; looked at eyes, how blond his lashes were, the way his Adams apple bobbed when he swallowed, the soft sunburn coloring his light skin, the way he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, “he doesn’t look like you.”

He stopped walking, unlinked our arms and pulled me into a hug, “My ego just sky rocketed!”

“I didn’t know it could go any higher than it already has!” I laughed into his chest—which was broad, and hard, and the feeling of his arms around me left me burning. He pulled away, pretending to look insulted. “What?!”

“Wha-“ he started but I cut him off.

“C’mon, Ben! You have enough confidence for the entire continent of Europe. That night in the restaurant? Drinking out of my cup at the cafe? Showing up here?”

“But it’s sexy right?” He raised his eyebrows and tried to hold in his laugh. I pushed him away and kept walking but not before giving him a dramatic eye roll.

When he caught up to me, it was my turn to ask. “What about me? What’s my competition?”

“Pfft…” he looked at me as if I had to be kidding, “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I want to know!”

“Babe, there is no competition.”

“I hope that means I win.”

“It means you’re fittest girl I’ve ever seen.”

I shrugged and forced myself to act nonchalant, “I’ll take it.”

We walked around the garden a few more times, taking pictures of the view, the flowers, and each other. When I asked him if he was ready to go, he held up his phone, “Not until we get one of us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, us. I just told you my entire life story, I think that makes us close enough to take a picture together.” I couldn’t argue with a good point. We stood at the edge in front of the view and he held up his phone, snapping several pictures before I was ready. After I complained and demanded retakes, we took ones smiling, making funny faces and a few of him with his arm around me kissing my cheek.

On our way back down, he asked if I wanted to have another picnic on the beach, to make up for last night.

“Make up for it? I don’t need a do-over, I thought it was amazing.”

“Josie, we sat on a bin bag!” He spoke slowly as if I wasn’t understanding his reasoning.

“I know, but it was still really sweet.”

“C’mon, please? I found a perfect spot on my way here. It’ll be great, I swear!”

“Fiiiiine.” I gave in, because it was still gorgeous out and I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to be alone with him. “But,” I started, “I need to go back and change first. I definitely smell and look all melted.”

“I think you look beautiful.” He said before throwing his arm back around me as we made it out of the garden and onto the sidewalk. I rolled my eyes. “Fine,” he said, “but I’m coming with you.”

Despite my half-baked protests the whole walk back about him coming back to the AirBnB, he ended up inside, sprawled out on the bed while I was trying to pick out an outfit. I already knew what I wanted to wear but was trying to stall having to get in the shower with him there. It was a studio, meaning there was no where for me to really hide and although I trusted that he wouldn’t try anything, since he swore it over and over again on the way down and since he still hadn’t tried to kiss me, I was still a little nervous.

I turned to him and held the apartment key out, “Why don’t you go and get the supplies while I get ready. I’ll send you the key code for downstairs.”

He smiled knowingly, “Sure, love. I’ll be back in a bit.” He rose from the bed and left quietly.

I let out a nervous breath, feeling so much more comfortable with him gone. I wanted to kiss him, and definitely fuck him, but him being on the other side of the door while I was in the shower was a level of intimacy I was not ready for.

It felt good to shower, to feel all the sweat and dirt slide off my body. I stepped out and wrapped the towel around my body while checking my phone to see whether or not Ben had gotten back yet. I didn’t see a text from him asking for the code (I was purposely waiting to give it to him so I knew when he was back and it was safe to leave the bathroom) meaning it was safe to step out.

“Oh, wow…” Ben’s eyes locked with mine and I jumped, not expecting him to be sprawled out on the bed as he was before.

“Fuck! Ben, you didn’t tell me you were back!” I pulled the towel tighter around my body.

He sat up, obviously sensing my discomfort and put a hand over his eyes, “I knocked on the door and told you I was back!”

“You didn’t text and ask for the code!”

“Someone was going in when I got back! I didn’t need it!” He stood up, hand still over his eyes, “Sorry,” he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, “I’m just gonna…” he held them up to me, “just text me when you’re okay with me coming back.”

I stifled a laugh as he backed out of the studio.