#library of jesse project
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okay (probably) final plan for the library of jesse project prep:
-finish making any needed accounts tomorrow (saturday)
-start taking notes on all the stuff i wanna screenshot at my earliest convenience (probably sunday)
for reference, the current day as of posting is friday, september 6th, 2024.
what have i already done?
-made the carrd with all the links on it, added it to the pinned post for my main blog and sideblog
-made the lojp sideblog (accessible from the carrd)
-made the flickr-based gallery
-made a progress tracker on google docs and a volunteer image submission form
-took minimal notes for s2 e1 screenshots yesterday afternoon before realizing there was more to do and burning out for the night (they're physical, but they'll be going on the progress tracker doc soon enough)
-wrote some image submission guidelines
-came up with a few ideas for the sideblog's banner (no idea what the pfp will end up being though)
i'm real excited to get into the meat of this project! while tedious, it'll be great for artists like myself, and likely writers as well.
oh, and stuff i wanna do that will likely be part of tomorrow's account-making shenanigans (helps to have a to-do list!):
-make a discord or something (not sure how i feel about discord, we'll see after i'v read their tos and done some research)
-make accounts on a few more image sharing sites to spread the gallery far as i can get it
-find or make something for lojp's banner and pfp across all sites i put it on
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Cheers to anyone who gets the reference
#judai yuki#yuki judai#jaden yuki#johan andersen#jesse anderson#spiritshipping#ygo gx#yugioh gx#ygo#yugioh#projmoon#project moon#library of ruina
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hokma propganda call that hokmaganda
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Punch To Love || Yan Delinquent x GN Reader
Characters: Bone
Summary: School Delinquent wants your attention
Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness, violence
a/n: He's a softy. This is Jesse's rival.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦
Yan Delinquent who doesn't really go to class. Only goes when he needs to keep himself from getting expelled. He doesn't want to worry his mom. Or his sister. He manages to keep his grades up enough too.
Yan Delinquent who meets you early on in the semester when a group project was assigned. He honestly wouldn't have thought you would pick him to be your partner, especially when the pink weirdo is stuck to your side.
Yan Delinquent who ends up putting in more effort than he thought he would have when with you. He's even more shocked when you take interest in him after, wanting to stay and get to know him. He's usually alone, so this is a complete switch to what he's used too.
Yan Delinquent who after a couple of weeks when the project finishes, can't seem to forget you. You were different. He liked that a lot. Whenever he smoked on campus, he imagined what it would be like to kiss you right after. Oh god he's screwed.
Yan Delinquent who denies he has the biggest crush ever on you. Sure he stalks you from a distance. Sure he wishes he could punch the pink weirdo. Sure he fights behind your back when someone insults you. But that's just because he's repaying your kindness. Nothing more.
Yan Delinquent who takes a lot of time to accept the fact that he's completely whipped for you. It only takes one of his buddies to point out how puppylike he is when you're around. It's embarrassing at first, but he's so happy.
Yan Delinquent who finds himself coming to the classes you share more often. He often finds himself also seeking out your help to study and on topics he doesn't understand. Man he relishes the disappointed look the pink weirdo has when you tell him that you had to study with someone else.
Yan Delinquent who loves staying late in the library with you. The smell of his coffee is a lot more calming than his cigarettes, but he can't help the cravings. He's trying so hard to fight them back to look more studious in front of you.
Yan Delinquent who gets harassed by the pink weirdo you call your best friend the day after. The pink haired boy is taking pictures of him and saying he could never be good enough. Well that may be true, but he would treat you so much better than your pink loving best friend.
Yan Delinquent who watches your best friend showcase the pictures he took of the delinquent smoking, cutting class, and beating up a not so defenseless student. In awe, he watches you deny your best friend's claims and actually show your trust in the delinquent. He needs you to marry him right now.
Yan Delinquent who hangs out with you a lot more now. He invites you to ditch class with him and leave campus with him. He even feels more comfortable to smoke around you. You don't judge, and it makes him so fuzzy, though if you express your distaste for the smell then he'll try to avoid doing so in front of you.
Yan Delinquent who gets interrogated by his mom about you. He's so embarrassed when he has to explain why he's so smiley now and that he's been more motivated when around you. She's so happy that he finally has a good influence in his life though. His litter sister is even more curious.
Yan Delinquent who runs into you outside of school when he takes his sister to the park. He gets all blushy and lets his sister run around the jungle gym when he talks to you. He's so different outside of school. He's so much softer and less broody.
Yan Delinquent who has to stop his little sister from embarrassing him when she sees you. She asks you so many questions and if you're the person that he was telling his mom about. You were flattered, and she became so attached to you.
Yan Delinquent who is so good at hiding the fact that he gets into fights for you. Sure he gets a few cuts and bruises, but it's so easy to lie. Some bitch was encouraging on his area and he was defending himself. Your naivety is his best friend at this point.
Yan Delinquent who comes to you when he does get injured. Your hands are so delicate when handling him, he can't help but blush when your fingers feel like feathers against his skin. It alleviates all pain he feels. Even when it's just a small paper cut, and you're putting on a silly cartoon band-aid on it.
Yan Delinquent who becomes surprisingly whiny when you won't treat his wounds. What do you mean he doesn't need a band-aid and your gentle touch when bumps something against a door? Maybe you should kiss it better and he'll stop whining.
Yan Delinquent who threatens freely. He will glare and snarl at anyone who tries to get close to you. The only one bold enough to never back down is that pink haired weirdo. He can't stand him! Though he can't express his distaste for your best friend.
Yan Delinquent who introduces you to his mom after she pesters him enough. He brings you over to dinner and has to sit through so many embarrassing questions and anecdotes. He did not need you to know that he cried when he was 5 because Santa didn't bring him what he wanted for Christmas.
Yan Delinquent who is very clearly becoming your guard dog. Scary boyfriend privileges. He can't help but want to keep you safe. You're a pure rarity in his world, and he'll be damned if he loses it. Especially to that pink haired weirdo who is trying so hard to keep you two apart.
Yan Delinquent who finally throws hands with the pink weirdo. Both take and deliver punches like no tomorrow until you come to break up the fight. Now, they're both sitting in the nurse's office glaring at each other with you taking care of both of them. It would have been a dream if that cute prick wasn't here ruining his day.
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Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!
#🪸.mermaid time#🪸.mermaid ocs#🦴.Bone | Softy Delinquent#yan oc#yan oc x male reader#yan oc x gn reader#yan oc x reader#yandere oc x male reader#yandere oc#yandere oc x gn reader#yandere oc x reader#yandere#yandere x male reader#yandere x gn reader#yandere x reader#yan delinquent#yan delinquent x male reader#yan delinquent x gn reader#yan delinquent x reader#dead dove#dead dove do not eat#male yandere#male yandere x male reader#male yandere x gn reader#male yandere x reader
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obsessed w ur gilmore girls EVERYTHING, would love some more logan whenever ur feeling up to it 💖 (even tho im a jess girlie at heart)
[ ʟᴏɢᴀɴ ʜᴜɴᴛᴢʙᴇʀɢᴇʀ ] ᴄʟᴀꜱꜱ ᴀꜱꜱɪɢɴᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ
summary: logan is in your business economics class and he absolutly does not work in class—except when you're involved of course ;) TW: none note: i'm also a jess girlie at heart, but im definitly team logan when it comes to rory lol, also i dont know what this is but i hope you enjoy it anyway.
♣ you're pretty much the only reason he even attends this class ♣ he just sits in the back and watches with interest as you participate in class discussions. ♣ if Finn and Colin notice how his seat keeps getting closer to yours every lecture they dont comment on it ♣ speaking of Finn and Colin—they're both little shits (affectionate) ♣ the kind of guys to ask you the most stupid questions, and when you ask them why they even took this class they just shrug and reply, "it sounded fun." ♣ like what about business ec sounded fun to you?? ♣ (in reality they just followed logan)
♣ when the blessed day finally arrives and you ask him if he wants to work on the group assignment together he's over the moon ♣ (he has selective observation skill and ignores the fact that the only reason you asked him was because him, colin and finn basically had you surrounded in terms of seats) ♣ he obviously agrees and you exchange numbers to meet up and work on the project
♣ now, lets get one thing straight, logan does not work ♣ if there is anyway this man can slack off and get a passing grade without doing anything he will do it ♣ but now its you and there's no way he's making a bad impression by makign you do all the work (he will tell colin and finn to make up some stupid excuse to not be there (they have an entire book on them))
♣ you get a consecutive one hour of working in before he suggests that the two of you go get coffee (more than you expected honstly) ♣ he lets you order, pretends to point to something very interesting outside and pays for the food ♣ he also has the most satisfied smirk on his face as you tell him you're gonna pay him back ♣ "suureeee~" ♣ he also memorizes the drink you'd ordered and shows up to the lecture ten mintues before time just to give it to you and make small talk before the professor starts droning on about whatever's on the agenda that day
♣ once the assignement is finished (you and logan did most of the work) you expect to go back to sitting next to him in class for half the lecture and him leaving once he's bored ♣ like it was before ♣ and that does happen. sort of. ♣ except now everytime he leaves, logan sends you a message that afternoon asking for the notes on the lectures (he just wants an excuse to draw you out of your dorm to the nearby coffee stand)
♣ eventually, after he's spent an entire month making up the most ridiculous excuses for meeting up with you ♣ claimed he didn't understand a paragraph once—he was talking about a paragraph of his human recources class (this boy has no clue which book belongs to which subject) ♣ anyway, after a month of ridiculoussness that kinda makes you smile he's succesfully become a part of your everyday life. one day he's bringing you coffee, another he's asking you to meet up with him in the library to study ♣ so now that that part of his plan is successfull he finally asks you out.
♣ when you just smile and say yes, rolling you eyes as you tell him 'it was about damn time' he thinks he's fallen in love with you just a little more.
#logan huntzberger aesthetic#logan huntzberger fanfic#logan huntzberger x reader#logan huntzberger headcanons#logan huntzberger moodboard#gilmore girls#gilmore girls x reader#gilmore girls fanfiction
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Keep Silent - Jake Kiszka x F!Reader
SMUT. 18+ ONLY! MDNI!!!
PAIRING: Jake Kiszka x F!Reader
WORDS: 7.5k
SUMMARY: It's been raining for days on end, and your boyfriend Jake suggests a romantic trip to the library to help pass the time. Knowing him, however, things don't stay innocent and cozy for long.
WARNINGS: Dom!Jake. Exhibitionist/voyeur kink, fingering, filthy dirty talk with lots of degradation (slut, whore, dirty, desperate...) and praise (pretty girl, good girl, sweet girl, etc). Rough unprotected sex.
A/N: OKAY, WOW.... this fic is a long time coming. I've been working on this one for the last couple of months and I am so unbelievably excited to share it with all of you. First of all, I have to make some shoutouts-- this fic is dedicated to @jakesguitarsolo as a VERY late birthday present, ILY Jess!!! And an EXTREMELY special thanks to my beta reader and actual moon to my sun @sinsofstardust .... so many of my ideas are built alongside your equally dirty mind. I LOVE YOU COURT!! Another special thanks to @sparrowofthedawnsworld for all the encouragement as I slowly wrote out this passion project, ILY Sparrow!!! And thank you all for being so patient and reading my work... this is so incredibly fucking self-indulgent, I can't even begin to express. FIC BEGINS BELOW THE CUT!
It had been raining for over a week.
Not just a drizzle, either— it was day after day of heavy winds and sheets of rain that lashed at the window panes, with any view of the sky repeatedly choked out by lumbering, ominous gray clouds.
It wasn’t that you particularly minded rain, not really, but after days on end of being stuck indoors, the cabin fever was beginning to get to you. The apartment you shared with your boyfriend, Jake, was on the small side, and you’d already had to reschedule numerous date ideas this week that would’ve only been possible had you been able to go outside.
He must’ve noticed how antsy you had been getting, however, and today, he had a new idea— suggesting a trip to the library to pick out some books to read and movies to take home, to help pass the time while you waited for this goddamn endless rain to pass you by.
You had been so grateful for his suggestion, and not just because the weather outdoors had been making things feel a little too much like Groundhog Day. The thought of snuggling up with Jake in a cozy library for a while, reading your books and people-watching, was certainly enough to make the rain feel a little more appealing.
That had been during breakfast, a couple of hours ago. After the both of you had showered and gotten changed into some comfortable clothes worthy of a lazy Sunday but stylish enough to go out in, Jake had driven the two of you to the public library. His playlist of vintage rock was the soundtrack to your leisurely drive through the rain, but despite the unhurried pace and relaxed atmosphere, he didn’t waste any time before his flirtatious touches began– his left hand on the wheel, the right settling to rest on your upper thigh.
The touch could’ve perhaps been interpreted as innocent, but Jake clearly had other plans for the physical contact. He gently flexed his fingers, squeezing your thigh just enough for you to notice, smiling to himself at your tiny, sharp intake of breath… but never once taking his eyes off the road. All of a sudden, your heartbeat was skyrocketing. What a fucking tease.
He didn’t escalate things any further, but the feeling of his touch was nevertheless electric. As always, once he got your heart racing, it was near impossible for you to get your pulse to slow— just one example out of so many that revealed the effect he had on you. Once he got your mind in the gutter, his presence alone became something that could make you squirm. With a rush of heat to your lower stomach, you wondered if that had been his plan all along.
Your heart and mind were still going a mile a minute even a quarter of an hour later, when the two of you walked into the library hand-in-hand, heading towards the display of new fiction. As you two browsed through the titles, you found yourself taking numerous glances over at him, feeling unable to help it. He was wearing one of his softest shirts, buttoned just barely higher than usual, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, flipping through a dystopian novel with interest in his expression. His hair looked so soft… you loved those two silver necklaces dangling enticingly from his neck… and you were still close enough to take in the scent of his cologne.
While your eyes were on him, his gaze flashed up from the page, a knowing smirk forming on his face upon catching you staring. Your face immediately flushed with heat, realizing how lost in thought you had become, as you offered a bashful smile and a little shrug… to which he winked in response, which really didn’t do much in the way of helping you collect yourself. Very much the opposite, actually.
Blushing, you glanced back at the book you were holding, trying to focus your energy on reading the summary and reviews on the back cover— but god, you were horribly distracted, by both your thoughts and Jake’s awareness of the way he was already making you feel. After a few more minutes of the two of you browsing titles and picking out two each (between numerous glances that felt far too charged to be taking place in public), the two of you finally headed upstairs to find a comfortable couch where you could read and watch the rain in relative privacy… at least, that’s what you were telling yourself.
The first floor had already been relatively quiet, with only a few scattered clusters of people browsing the titles, but the second level was even more so. Looking across the numerous couches and desks nestled between bookshelves, the two of you were essentially free to take your pick of whichever spot you wanted. There seemed to only be a handful of patrons up here, no less than ten people across the entire floor; all of whom seemed to be lost in their own worlds of studying or reading, many of them wearing headphones. Your hand was in Jake’s, your fingers interlaced, and as you attempted to slow your racing heartbeat, you gestured across the room, in the direction of a more secluded corner hidden behind the biographies that you knew well as a favorite reading spot.
Jake’s eyes seemed to be scanning the room, taking in your surroundings, and you tried not to let your already wandering mind take that fact and run with it, knowing how adventurous he liked to be— in every sense of the word. You swallowed hard. Down, girl. Breathe…
To save time, instead of taking the long way around all of nonfiction, you tugged on Jake’s arm, pulling him towards a particular aisle between the shelves, saying quietly to him, “Shortcut.” He chuckled endearingly, looking down at you with that familiar twinkle in his honey-brown eyes and saying at a similarly low volume, “Lead the way, baby… show me all the secret passages.”
It was entirely subconscious that you bit your lip in response, but the way he arched his eyebrow back at you and offered a smirk as a retort made your legs feel like jelly. It was clear he was picking up on what you were feeling— regardless of whether you were communicating it intentionally. And maybe, just maybe… the fact that you couldn’t help your reactions… that was turning him on, too.
As you led him through the aisle, he had shifted so he was behind you— and you just couldn’t help walking with a bit of an extra sway in your hips. You knew where his eyes would always just happen to fall if he was right behind you… and why not take advantage of that? Without turning your head to face Jake just yet, you bit your lip playfully in anticipation before making a point of sticking your ass out towards him now that you were hidden away between the shelves, even shaking it back and forth a bit to ensure you’d catch his attention.
With that, you glanced behind you, unable to resist checking to see if he was looking… and, sure enough, you turned your head just in time to catch those half-lidded eyes of his flashing right back up to meet your gaze from where they had certainly been lingering on how nice your ass looked in those leggings. You gave him a smirk of your own, and he stepped forward just enough so that he could —so quickly you hardly processed it taking place— slip one hand just under the hem of your sweatshirt and t-shirt, letting his fingers rest against your bare skin and causing an immediate shiver to wrack your body. You were both now standing right in the middle of the aisle, but the intoxicating touch of his calloused fingertips against the sensitive skin just above your hip had left you frozen in your tracks, rooted to the spot.
Jake took another step closer to you, which left him pressed up against you from behind— the feeling of his heartbeat and heavy breaths against your back overwhelming enough without the added factor of his desire being made astonishingly clear as he pressed his hips up against your ass. With that simple action, you were both hit with the first delicious shock of friction, and your mouth immediately dropped open as Jake leaned right into your ear, his voice like velvet as he spoke, low and raspy… “You’re such a goddamn tease. Fuck… I love it.”
With Jake’s firm, hot chest right up against your back, and the overwhelming nature of the contact his hips just made with your ass, the fact that the two of you were still standing in the middle of the aisle had become something of an instant afterthought. It didn’t matter. None of it did– your mind had gone entirely blank beyond what you felt against you. Nothing else even existed besides the man who had his body pressed up against yours– and the way his lips were right up against the shell of your ear as he breathed out,
“Do you know how fucking cute you are when you’re all hot and bothered for me?”
An involuntary, high-pitched noise almost resembling a whimper threatened to escape from you– and though you were able to catch yourself before your entirely unintentional desperation ended up being loud enough to draw attention to what was going on, your body was hit with an overwhelming shock wave of arousal when you suddenly felt Jake’s hand clamp directly over your mouth. His body was still flush against yours, the feeling of his increasingly obvious erection against your ass in combination with his filthy words making you lightheaded.
“Careful, my dirty girl… unless you want everyone to know exactly what I’m doing to you…”
As he spoke, Jake’s free hand began to first stroke down your arm, then back up… before flattening his palm out just between your collarbones, making sure his long fingers were spread out wide, the feeling making your breath catch in your throat. He then continued his public exploration of your body by letting that same hand stroke right over both of your breasts, gently groping and squeezing each of them just enough to make you arch your back against him— which prompted Jake to chuckle darkly into your ear, before he began to whisper to you once again.
“What is it, baby? Does it turn you on when I grab your tits like this… right here, where anyone could walk by and see us?”
Jake’s words sent an instant shiver down your spine, the hunger in his tone immediately causing wetness to pool between your thighs— and the chuckle that rumbled from deep in his throat made it clear that the way your body trembled hadn’t only been felt by you.
“I think I’ll take that as a yes,” Jake said lowly, his voice thick, hot, and heavy– and though he was still behind you, you could hear the smirk in his voice. He hadn’t stopped feeling you up, moving from one breast to the other as he squeezed and massaged you, letting his thumbs gently begin to tease at your hard nipples through the fabric of your sweatshirt. Already, the pleasure was so fucking much, and you arched into his touch, pressing your tits up against his exploring hand. His volume lowered even further, and the breathiness in his voice was damn near overwhelming as he rasped directly against your ear, “My dirty little exhibitionist…”
Your head was spinning. Through your haze, you were aware that there wasn’t anybody walking by, that the few people present on this floor of the library were entirely occupied with their own activities… and yet, if anybody just happened to wander past this particular aisle, there was absolutely no way to provide an innocent explanation for what was going on. Not with Jake so blatantly and shamelessly exploring your body… and not with your face so red and legs already beginning to tremble at the result of his actions. And yet, the most dizzying aspect of all… was that you didn’t care. Not in the least. You couldn’t give a fuck where you were, as long as you could be assured that Jake wouldn’t stop touching you.
Thankfully, or perhaps dangerously, enough… it seemed that Jake was thinking the same thing.
While his left hand continued its relentless teasing and massaging of your breasts through your sweatshirt, Jake’s right hand fell to your hip, gripping it firmly and possessively. Your breaths had evolved into heavy, short gasps as you felt your arousal building, and the sound of your boyfriend’s low, satisfied chuckle right in your ear left you squeezing your thighs together, lightheaded. That was when he spoke again, low and commanding, the hunger and heat in his voice making your heart stutter within your chest—
“Your back. Against the bookcase. Now, pretty girl… for me.”
You didn’t even have to think. When Jake talked like that, his voice so dominant and raspy, it was as though your body just gave into him entirely on its own— no consideration required. With his hand still on your hip, guiding you, you felt him turning you around to face him for the first time since he started touching you, and the sight of his dark, lust-blown pupils right on you were enough to make a tiny whimper slip involuntarily from you.
Immediately, Jake’s long index finger was pressed directly against your lips, and before your body was even able to process the power of that simple action— he spoke again, his tone intoxicatingly condescending and his face inches from yours.
“Shhhh, now, honey… and listen to me. No matter what I do to you… you’re going to be silent. We’re in public, pretty girl… and nobody gets to hear those pretty moans but me. Is that clear?”
Your eyes had gone wide while Jake spoke, the combination of his filthy words, that intense fucking stare, and his finger against your lips only fanning the flames that were already burning deep within you. Keeping your lips pressed together out of breathless arousal, you nodded in a manner that, based on the way Jake began to smirk at you, came across far more desperate than you had intended to show— but likely exactly as desperate as you actually were feeling.
“That’s my good girl,” he breathed out, and your jaw tightened instantly as those few words sent shock waves directly between your legs, your knees beginning to shake as all of your energy went towards keeping yourself quiet. Jake’s expression was devious, cocky, a look you knew all too well… one that would always inevitably make your head spin and your panties wet, and the fact that he so clearly knew exactly what he was doing to you was only intensifying your desire. His voice remained just as quiet and firm as ever as he continued teasingly, “So… where was I?”
Your chest was heaving as Jake’s hand slid from your hip to your waist and back down, the look in his eyes making it obvious that he was enjoying himself, watching your reactions as he teased you. Every touch left your heart pounding, but you were aching at this point. You needed more, and you did your very best to communicate this to Jake without words. Feeling yourself surrender further to your desire, you looked up at the man in front of you with so much need that he let out a quiet, patronizing chuckle, dark and dangerous and unbelievably hungry.
“Oh, honey… you want it bad, don’t you?”
The instant shiver that coursed through your body at his words spoke loud and clear, eliciting another dark chuckle from Jake. “Well… how could I not…” he began, letting his hand begin to slide horizontally from its position on your hip, “...when you’re being so good for me?”
His other hand also shifted just slightly, replacing the single finger over your lips with his entire hand, so large it covered the majority of your jaw, right as the hand now against your stomach began to move downwards. He arched his eyebrow at you teasingly, giving you a flirtatious wink and murmuring, “Just in case.”
He was going to be the death of you.
The passionate eye contact never ceased or let up in the slightest as Jake’s hand continued its way down your sweatshirt, and his touch was already overwhelming enough through two layers of clothing. As his hand drew closer and closer to the hem of your leggings, the thought of how much closer he’d be, how he’d surely bypass the edge of the thickest fabric you were currently wearing within seconds, certainly wasn’t making things any easier.
The instant Jake’s fingertips were no longer dragging down your sweatshirt, he was slipping his hand under the waistband of your leggings, flattening out his palm and beginning to creep even further downwards. The sudden heat of his large hand stroking right down over your panties made you let out a gasp— one so sudden and involuntary against the fingers over your mouth that it made Jake’s smirking lips part with arousal, a soft “goddamn” slipping out from somewhere deep in his throat. That would’ve been enough to send you reeling, and yet, it was at that moment that his fingertips made their first contact with your clit, with nothing but the thin fabric of your everyday panties in between— and immediately, your eyes rolled back into your head, knees beginning to tremble as Jake studied your expression with a kind of hungry fascination that you couldn’t believe he still held for you after all this time.
Jake was rubbing your clit in tight circles now, and your breaths were already coming fast and hard. This wasn’t going to take long, not after all of his teasing, not with the thrill and the rush of your back against the bookcase and the knowledge of people just out of sight. He slid a long finger down to your still-covered entrance, and his mouth immediately fell open with desire when he realized just how soaked the fabric was under his touch.
“Fuck, pretty girl. Do you want me to make you unravel right here?”
You desperately wanted to cry out, to beg out loud, to whimper out a plea, anything that could tell him just how much you needed that. When he was craving your sounds, he’d encourage you to be as loud as you could— and he’d work you and pound you until you were screaming his name. But now, today… with his hand so firmly planted over your mouth, possessive, stifling… all you could manage was a shaky nod, overwhelmed with the feeling, the silence, his control.
Jake’s soft, dark chuckle reverberated through you as he murmured, “That’s my dirty girl.”
With that, he effortlessly managed to push the dripping fabric of your panties out of the way despite not once letting his eyes leave yours— and the moment his fingers came into direct contact with your heat, you felt the entire world around you melt away. Holy fucking shit.
His movements were so languid and intentional, like he had done this to you a thousand times… and, well, he probably had. And yet, somehow, it still felt just as dizzying as the first time when Jake’s long middle finger immediately parted your folds and buried itself deep into you, your thighs instantly tightening around his wrist as his mouth dropped open once again.
“Fucking eager little thing,” he breathed out, “goddamn.”
And as he started pumping his finger in and out of you, not wasting any time when it came to picking up his speed and intensity, you knew what he said had been right. You were eager for him to make you cum, and you didn’t even care admitting it. In fact, you’d scream it from the rooftops if it meant Jake wouldn’t cease his movements, wouldn’t stop staring at you with those dark eyes, as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. When he curled his finger inside of you in a come-hither motion, stroking that one particular spot that he knew so well, you were seeing stars, bucking up your hips against his hand in a frenzied chase for the orgasm you knew was threatening to overtake you at any moment. It was all so overwhelming, so fucking good, the feeling of that long finger sliding in and out of you over and over again, Jake’s hand so firm over your mouth, those eyes watching you all the while.
And that was when he added his ring finger.
You were practically gone, almost incoherent, leaning back and allowing the bookshelf behind you to be your support— there was no hope of keeping yourself upright on your own now. The trembling of your thighs and the fluttering of your walls around Jake’s fingers clearly communicated your teetering proximity to the edge, and he grit his teeth together as he made sure not once to relent in his fingers’ pace within you. Your vision was blurring, your chest heaving, and Jake could read every signal your body was giving him. It was intoxicating, how well he knew you. Never once slowing his pace, finger-fucking you relentlessly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispered,
“Gonna cum for me? Right here in the fucking library? Do it. Cum on my fingers like the exhibitionist slut you are. Fucking cum.”
His words were all it took. Ecstasy overtook every inch of your body as you clenched down around him, your mouth wide open against the fingers Jake still had covering your lips, legs all but giving out beneath you as you rode out wave after wave of pleasure.
“Fuck, that’s my girl. Goddamn,” Jake was groaning softly into your ear, but you could barely even process the words falling from his lips with the intensity of the orgasm that was currently overtaking you, only heightened by the fact that Jake made sure to maintain the pace of his fingers all the way through your high, his eyes even closing for a moment in aroused disbelief at just how hard you were cumming for him.
Shaking, trembling, your orgasm astounded you in its length and intensity, and by the time you were coming down, you were gasping for breath. Jake finally slid his hand away from where it had been covering your mouth, drifting it off to the side and cradling your cheek, as he gazed at you with an expression that mixed adoration and staggering desire.
“Holy fuck, baby,” Jake breathed out, shaking his head a little. “You…”
His voice trailed off at the sudden, unmistakable sound of footsteps. Your eyes went instantly wide, and you glanced in rapidly developing panic at the entrance to the aisle the two of you were standing in— the aisle he had just made you cum all over his fingers in.
But if Jake was feeling any of that same nervousness that was threatening to overtake the post-orgasmic haze you were feeling, he was doing a damn good job at hiding it. In one fluid motion, Jake had pulled his hand from your leggings, and quickly scooped up your selected books that had been laying forgotten on the floor with the hand that had, until recently, been covering your mouth. The loss of contact would’ve been enough to make you whimper in any other situation, but in this moment, you couldn’t help but thank your lucky stars for Jake’s adaptability and cool demeanor. You only hoped you looked a fraction as put together as he did, which, frankly, you doubted very much now that he had already brought you to one orgasm and didn’t really seem like he intended to stop there. Your head was still spinning as Jake quickly sucked his fingers clean with a wink, just in time for a stranger likely over twice your age to walk right by the aisle that he’d been finger-fucking you to orgasm in moments earlier.
Once the stranger had passed you by, you let out a long, shaky sigh that you couldn’t be sure whether to attribute more to your relief or your desire. With your back still against the bookcase, your gaze met Jake’s once again— and the mischievous, hungry look in his eyes had returned, seductive and unmistakable. When he spoke again, his voice was a whisper. “Goddamn, baby… drives me fuckin’ crazy how dirty you are.”
Having regained your composure somewhat, you managed a playful smile of your own, biting down on your bottom lip in the flirtatious way you knew Jake loved— savoring the way his tongue darted over his bottom lip as you said, voice breathy, “It’s all for you, Jake…”
“Fuck,” Jake cursed under his breath, his tone thick with desire, his darkened eyes never leaving yours. He moved a step closer to you, his voice soft and raspy as he asked you with obvious intentions, “...where can we go?”
A shiver went down your spine as his meaning hit you loud and clear. Your mind was racing, and you were responding before the thought was even fully formed— “There’s a secluded corner behind the biographies… it’s where I was leading us before…” you trailed off, and your cheeks reddened as you gave Jake a little smirk. “...before you distracted me so nicely.”
Jake grinned at you wickedly, before leaning in and whispering right in your ear. “Take me there now, baby, so I can distract you some more…” letting his lips drag across your velvety skin, making you gasp when he grazed your earlobe with his teeth. Your ability to think flickered like a faulty switch, but you were able to hold yourself together long enough to grab Jake’s wrist and murmur teasingly, “I could, if you weren’t so damn distracting already…” making him smirk at you while you giggled in response, before adding, “...now follow me, Jakey, I think you’ll like what comes next.”
As he let you take your first couple of steps ahead of him, he managed a final soft, teasing whisper, his voice heavy as he said, “I’m already liking the view…” making you blush before you led him out of the aisle on legs that still weren’t entirely steady, passing one or two oblivious people on their laptops. The thought that they had been there the entire time, and would likely continue to be there, while remaining none the wiser to what was happening between you and Jake, was making you even more lightheaded than you could care to admit. Even though you were a few steps ahead of him, you could feel your boyfriend’s presence behind you; his steady gait and comforting yet commanding presence unmistakable and dizzying. You wanted all of him so fucking bad, and you were about to give it to him right here. In public. You almost couldn’t believe yourself, and yet, it was no surprise that Jake was bringing out this side of you. There was something about him that just made you want to be as filthy as possible, no matter where you were— and you knew Jake loved that just as much as you did.
After what seemed like a tortuous amount of time winding through labyrinthine aisles of nonfiction and biography, your destination came into view. It was your favorite reading nook in the whole library, specifically because of how hidden away it was behind the stacks. Tucked away in a corner behind the biographies, surrounded by tall bookshelves and sporting what you considered to be the comfiest chair in the building. However, the highlight of this particular spot was that it was in an area of the library that nobody ever seemed to wander into. There had been times where you’d managed to curl up in that recliner and read an entire book over the course of several hours without seeing another soul, despite knowing that there were certainly people right on the other side of the shelves.
Of course, it had now become apparent that the hidden nature of this particular nook had some other benefits beyond being a quiet place to read. When you turned to face your boyfriend after arriving at your favorite corner, the look on his face was almost incredulous with anticipation, eyebrows raised and tongue rolling against the inside of his own cheek. “Goddamn… this is a nice little spot, isn’t it?” he said mischievously, his pupils somehow having dilated even further, betraying the depth of his own arousal. He set the books that you two had chosen down on the chair, his hands falling to hook around his belt loops.
“I’ve always wanted to show it to you, Jakey…” you breathed out, never once letting your eyes leave his, as he began to walk towards you, getting closer and closer, one step at a time. The distance between the two of you was shrinking by the second, and before you knew it, Jake was close enough to be brushing your hair out of your face with his long, delicate fingers, that naughty look in his eye that always made you shudder.
“I love it, baby…” he murmured, his heavy-lidded eyes flickering down to your lips as he let his fingers move from their place in your hair to stroke down the side of your cheek. A teasing smirk made its way onto his face, one that you knew all too well. “...but tell me… is there any… particular reason you wanted to take me here? Hmm?”
“Jakey…” you sighed softly, arching into his touch as his fingers traced your cheekbone, then your jawline, before starting to run down your neck. As his fingers explored you in a way that felt shockingly sensual for where he was touching you, he continued, “Come on, now, baby… use your words… before it’s time for me to cover that pretty mouth with my hand again…” You let out the tiniest squeak of a whimper, making Jake chuckle darkly, as he added, “Well? Why did you want to bring me here to this hidden little corner, baby?”
As he finished his question, his hand came to rest at the base of your throat, in the exact spot he knew would always make your knees go weak beneath his touch— and your body proved him right, shuddering instantly. The hunger in Jake’s eyes was enough to have every inch of you burning for him, and as his gaze bore into you, the words were finally able to fall from your lips, soft and breathy and just for him. “Oh, Jake… I want you to fuck me right here… right here, in the fucking public library…” letting your voice fall to a whisper as you breathed out your final, most indecent fantasy. “...right up against the bookshelves…”
Jake’s soft groan of need would have been enough to make your head spin on its own, but clearly, hearing you give voice to your desires had lit a flame within him that he wasn’t going to attempt to restrain any longer. All of a sudden, he was pushing you up against the bookshelf with strong arms, his hips beginning to roll against you while whispering harshly right into your ear, “Goddamn, you are a fucking dirty girl, aren’t you…?”
The way your mouth instantly and wordlessly fell open gave Jake the answer that he needed while the two of you were so indecently involved in public. He caught your lips with his— roughly, passionately, kissing you with a silent ferocity that almost knocked you off of your feet, and potentially would have if he didn’t already have your back pressed up against the bookshelf. His hips didn’t halt in their motions against you, and your mind and body were struck by the realization of just how hard Jake was. You could feel him, solid and burning against your upper thigh, even through the thin fabric of both his jeans and your leggings, and the sensation was so intoxicating you felt your eyes roll back into your head involuntarily.
He was nipping at your bottom lip, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin, and you were immediately starting to buck your hips in response to the way he was setting your body alight with arousal. With both of you now grinding against each other, still devouring each other’s lips as though starving for it, it was more obvious than ever just how badly you both wanted this. Just how much it turned both of you on to be fully giving into your desire, just yards away from strangers who knew nothing of what was going on. To know that things were about to escalate even further. Right here, right now.
Jake’s hands were sliding down your body and hooking around the waistband of both your leggings and your panties. A surge of arousal rushed to your head as you realized what he was doing— and when he pulled back from your lips just long enough to give you a look that clearly requested a final confirmation that this was what you wanted, you nodded so hard that his expression returned to its smug dominance instantly. Glancing back over his shoulder one last time before looking you right in the eyes, Jake yanked both your leggings and panties down in one hard tug, pushing them as far down your legs as they could go. His chest was heaving with desire as he stared at you hungrily, before stepping back just enough to take a good look at your exposed body as his hands moved to the button and zipper of his own jeans. Whispering darkly, Jake breathed out, “Look at you… so fucking pretty when you’re stripped down for me… showing off that gorgeous body right fucking here…” his filthy words making your knees tremble.
His voice was still a whisper when he asked, “Fucking turns you on so much that we’re doing this in public, doesn’t it?” cocking his head to the side with a lust-clouded smirk as you nodded. “My dirty girl… you want me to take it out? You want… you need my cock inside you right here, right now?”
As he spoke, you were biting on your lip harder and harder to stop yourself from moaning aloud, doing everything you could to force yourself to stay silent, while nodding harder and harder, growing desperation in your eyes. Jake chuckled patronizingly, chewing on his own lower lip as he pulled his zipper down, murmuring, “That’s my good little whore… now keep your eyes on me, sweet girl…” He didn’t need to tell you twice; hell, even if he hadn’t given the order, you wouldn’t have been able to look away from the now-exposed hint of his boxers, from where his beautiful hands were now moving to the waistband of his jeans. Those long fingers of his, just as they had with your own clothing, made quick work of the thin layers of fabric separating your gaze from exactly what you craved. And once he had his cock free, you had to cover your mouth with your own hand in order to keep yourself silent.
He looked achingly hard, his cock thick and waiting, the rosy pink head already slick with his own arousal, and you felt yourself trembling in anticipation as Jake moved towards you, spitting into his hand in a way that felt downright obscene— especially considering where you were— before giving his cock a few languid strokes just as he found his position right in front of you. His eyes were practically darker than you’d ever seen them before, and Jake used the hand that had been stroking his cock to grab your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart for better access. Your heart was pounding in your chest as his free hand slid up your chest and neck to cover your mouth completely once again, never once letting his intense stare lessen or cease. He leaned right in, until the tip of his nose touched yours, opening his mouth to speak, his voice hushed. “Ready to get fucked like the exhibitionist you are?”
The way your body immediately shuddered at his words told Jake everything he needed to know, lining his cock up at your entrance, with his mouth falling open involuntarily upon feeling the intensity of your desire for him. “Goddamn, you’re fucking soaked… is that all for me? All because anyone could walk by and see us when I fuck that slutty little pussy…”
And then, giving you no rest or reprieve whatsoever, the moment he finished his sentence, Jake was pushing his cock all the way into you, his pace unhurried but steady, stretching you out and filling you up so deliciously and perfectly that your eyes rolled all the way back into your head, your knees almost completely giving out underneath you. It was only the pressure of Jake’s body keeping you pinned to the bookshelf that was keeping you upright now.
Jake’s jaw immediately tightened, his teeth clenching, as he leaned right into your ear for a moment just to groan out a restrained “Oh, fuck…” that seemed like it may have slipped from his lungs entirely involuntarily. You could hardly breathe. He was so fucking thick, and the feeling of him stretching you out so perfectly was almost overwhelming already. And yet, once he started to move, his cock beginning to pump in and out of you over and over again— slow at first, but rapidly picking up speed— the intense shocks of pleasure were so staggering that your mind went entirely blank beyond the feeling of Jake’s cock inside of you, fucking you just right, stretching and pounding into you in a way that you wouldn’t ever be able to get used to.
He was really fucking you now, and it was like the rest of the world had melted away. All there was, all there ever would be, were Jake’s dark eyes, his filthy words, his fat cock slamming into you over and over and over again— and the way you were already beginning to feel your pleasure building towards your second orgasm of the day with your back against a bookshelf. After all of his teasing, you weren’t going to last long, and the way he was practically growling under his breath right into your ear as he pounded into your cunt was enough to send your mind reeling along with your body.
“Such a dirty fucking girl… voyeuristic little whore… you want to get caught, don’t you? You want strangers to see you getting your tight little pussy fucked…. To see me fucking railing you against the bookshelves… is that it, baby? Are you my slutty little exhibitionist?”
His tone was already patronizing, but coupled with the fact that his hand was so firmly over your mouth that there was no possibility you’d be able to respond, the sheer condescension was making your head spin. Your thighs were beginning to tremble, your mouth falling open against Jake’s long fingers as you felt the heat in your core beginning to increase exponentially. He was relentless, fucking you hard and deep, his breathy sighs and groans in your ear only spurring you on further, encouraging you to completely lose control. As you grew closer and closer to your high, you felt your walls beginning to flutter around Jake’s thick cock, and his eyes damn near rolled into the back of his head. He leaned in and pressed his lips directly to the shell of your ear before he spoke again. “Goddamn, baby, I feel you clenching… are you gonna cum again for me? Right here? Gotta be silent, though, pretty girl… keep nice and quiet… fuck… I’m not far behind, baby… gonna cum for you, too… gonna fill you up…”
You couldn’t even nod your head as tears began to well in your eyes. Jake’s cock was hitting your g-spot over and over again, sending overwhelming waves of utter bliss through you with every thrust. Of course, Jake knew your body so well— he didn’t need to hear an answer from you. With the free hand that wasn’t covering your mouth, he dipped his fingers between your legs to rub your clit in tight circles while continuing to fuck you at his same dizzying pace. That was all it took. Within moments, you were completely unraveling, clenching down onto Jake’s cock uncontrollably as your second orgasm overtook you, practically sucking your boyfriend’s long fingers into your mouth to keep yourself silent. The combined sensation of you reaching your high all around him, rippling and fluttering, alongside your hot mouth on his fingers, pushed Jake over the edge. He bit down on your shoulder to stifle his low, blissful grunt as he exploded inside of you, filling you up completely, fucking every last drop of his cum into your pussy.
You couldn’t have any idea how long your orgasm lasted, the pleasure reaching a point almost beyond overwhelming while Jake held you close throughout both of your intense highs. The way he was biting down on your shoulder turned into open-mouthed kisses against both the fabric of your sweatshirt and the flushed skin of your neck as the two of you slowly but surely returned to earth, gasping for breath in a way that probably was nowhere near as quiet as you had hoped— not that it really would matter much now anyway. As if reading your mind, Jake’s hand slid down from its place covering your mouth to grip your upper arm in a way that was both a little possessive and entirely comforting. It must have been at least a minute or two of heavy breathing and clinging to each other’s clothing and skin before you finally felt able to think again— breathless giggles slipping from your lips as the reality of what just happened began to sink in. Jake looked up from your shoulder, a similarly dazed and cheeky grin on his own face.
When he spoke, his voice was still soft, but it was steady, astonished, adoring. “Goddamn, baby. That was fucking unbelievable… I love you so much.”
You bit your lip shyly, looking down towards the floor for half a second before letting your gaze flash back up to meet Jake’s, breathing out a bashful, flustered, “I love you too, Jakey… it’s just what you do to me.”
“It’s what you do to me,” he murmured with a smile, leaning in to capture your lips with another kiss, this one slower, less hurried, less frantic. Patient, loving, home. You melted against him, almost forgetting where you were for a moment, until you were suddenly aware once again of the exposed lower half of your body against the bookshelf, which made you start giggling again against his lips. When he pulled back to look at you endearingly and curiously, you gestured downwards, and Jake couldn’t hold back a little laugh of his own. “Okay, so we should take care of a few things…”
Carefully, he pulled himself from you, making you shudder, as he quickly made sure to tug your bottoms back up your legs— and you felt your cheeks begin to burn as you felt the familiar shiver of Jake’s cum dripping from you into your panties. He gave you a mischievous wink as he zipped up his jeans, whispering, “Just a little something to remember me by…” prompting you to roll your eyes and giggle, leaning in to tease him with a playful nudge, “As if I could ever forget, Jakey…”
Jake took your arm and helped you walk over to the big comfy chair on your trembling legs, the both of you sharing numerous flirtatious glances that would inevitably turn into giggles. The chair was so large that there was enough room for the both of you to fit sitting in it, as long as you swung your legs over Jake’s— and that was something you’d never pass up an opportunity to do. As you two settled in with your books, you leaned back, resting your head on Jake’s shoulder. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as a thought you’d never expected made its way into your mind. “Hey, Jakey?”
“What is it, baby?” he asked, turning to you, looking satisfied and affectionate— beautiful beyond compare. You stifled another giggle, leaning in to press your forehead to his.
“Let’s hope it rains again tomorrow.”
//
TAGLIST: @sinsofstardust @jakesguitarsolo @losfacedevil @sparrowofthedawnsworld @gold-mines-melting @texas-bbq-pringles @mountain-in-springtime @alwaysonthemend @tripthelightfatality @tommie-gvf @runwayblues @shutupdevvie @heavens-hearken @godly-sinsx @sacredjake @ignite-my-fire @kiska-enthusiast @songbirds-sweet
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like a french girl 🎨
part 3 - french girl | art major ellie x dance major reader
last chapter | next chapter
ao3 link
summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you.
18+ MDNI | 3.8k words | slow burn(?), mutual pining, loser ellie, recreational drug use (weed)
a/n: this took so long because im an intp AND a taurus *makes excuses for myself* also tysm to everyone who commented on the last chapter ur amazing and ily ♥
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Ellie’s in nothing but her underwear, legs criss-crossed on her navy comforter; holding a joint between her lips as she tunes the strings of her maple wood guitar. It’s a lazy Saturday, the one day out of seven where Ellie isn’t constantly tormented by homework and art projects.
These days are practically therapeutic for her. Being able to strum her fingers against the nylon strings and relish in the relaxing, skunky smell of cannabis can fix all of her problems. Minus one, of course: getting to know you better.
For now, she’s at peace with doing nothing, that is until a loud ding goes off and the brightness of her phone flashbangs her otherwise dim-lit room. She scowls, exhaling a puff from her lungs as she reaches over for the device. Ellie has friends, but she’s no social butterfly. Her phone is usually dry, especially on weekends. Jesse is definitely with Dina, so unless it's serious; there’s no reason for her to be getting a text.
Naturally, her scowl deepens when she reads that the number is unknown.
???: hii
ellie: wrong number
She opts to toss her phone away, but the next message throws her off track.
you: it’s — !
Ellie’s eyes widen at her screen like your name is a hypnotic spiral. She can feel her heart swelling well within her chest, and she’s left wondering if the weed she’s smoking is laced or if she somehow manifested you. Ellie quickly transfers her blunt in one hand and her phone in the other, straining her thumb trying to type as fast as she can to you.
ellie: oh hdy!
ellie: hey*
you: dina gave me ur number, i hope that’s okay
ellie: yeah ofc it is :-)
ellie: i was planning on giving it to you
Ellie typed that half-lie slowly, weighing how true it really was as she pressed send. It was on her plan of things she’d like to do before dying, but even then she doesn’t think she would ever gain the courage.
you: oh thank god
you: i thought i might be intruding 🙁
ellie: never, what’s up?
you: can i ask you something?
ellie: yes of course aks me anythign
ellie: ask* anything* shut sorry
ellie: SHIT
you: lmao are you okay??
ellie: yeah… forget about that, ask away
you: well i was wondering if you could help me study? im failing my anatomy class..
you: if u can’t it’s okay though!
A sheepish grin spreads across Ellie’s face, as she thinks about all the scenarios that could lead to. To think she’d finally have an excuse to see you after weeks of hoping, of praying for the opportunity. You asked her for help instead of taking other options, especially considering how much easier it would’ve been for you to.
ellie: its no problem, id be glad to help :-)
you: really?? ur a lifesaver els, tysmm
you: when are you free?
ellie: Right now.
ellie: or whenever .
you: let’s meet at the library in 20?
Almost instantly, Ellie’s excitement warps into anxiety. She wasn’t particularly ready to see you and twenty minutes doesn’t seem like nearly enough time to get her shit together. She thought you’d ignore her impulsive desperation of “right now” and set plans for a later date, but, alas, you didn’t.
Ellie rubs her forehead with her blunt holding hand, trying to scratch the itch of her worries away with just her pinky and thumb. Despite her increasing knowledge of you over the past few weeks, she was still incredibly nervous to be around you.
Ellie takes one final hit of her joint before snuffing it out in a doob tube on her nightstand. She sets her guitar against her bed and nearly falls off trying to get up in a rush, even though she has more than enough time to get ready.
She stumbles around the room to put something on, settling with a gray hoodie and a pair of jeans. She attempts to keep her balance as she hastily shoves each leg through her pants; simultaneously eyeing around her room in an attempt to remember where exactly she put her anatomy textbooks.
Ellie hears a familiar ding from her bed and she snaps towards it to pick up her phone, peering at the screen.
you: ellie?
Ellie curses under her breath, scolding herself for forgetting to text you back. She taps on the keyboard, quickly making sure she doesn’t manage another typo before hitting send.
ellie: sorry! yeah i’ll see you in twenty!
you: awesome :)
—
You weren’t ready to see Ellie either, you figured, since it took you hours to actually text her. You made up far-fetched scenarios with the worst outcomes; the one where she immediately deletes your number tormented you for quite a while. Now you’re trudging across campus to meet her, internally at war with your mixed emotions. On one hand you get to hang out with a cute girl and on the other you’re hanging out with a really cute girl. Alone. Zero friends around.
There’s a chance you two might not have anything to talk about. You guys are only mutual friends after all. Even if you guys somehow manage to start a conversation, what if she comes to not like you by the end of it, or vice versa? Not to mention the window incident you’re both hoping the other forgot.
You hesitate in your steps as you reach the library doors. It’d only take a few seconds to spin around and walk back, but how could you leave her there? You thoughtlessly chew on your lip, eyes worriedly shifting around.
You can’t recall any moment you’ve been so anxious about meeting up with a girl before. Not once, not even in a distant memory. You’ve always been the bolder one in your endeavors. The fact that Ellie is the only girl to make you feel this way has to mean something. You slowly pace in front of the doors in an attempt to dissipate your worries, nodding to your inner thoughts and ignoring the probable concerned stares in the distance. You’re the one who invited her, so you’re gonna stick it the fuck through. You couldn’t bail before testing the waters, you’d never forgive yourself.
So you barge into the building, letting the cool air hit your face from the swinging doors; granting you a waft of leather and drying ink. The building was decorated with freakishly tall dark wood bookshelves; so high, there were beige ladders in place to reach the top shelves. As expected, it was quiet, empty and definitely overfunded. Studying has never been your forte and you’ve never stepped in this building; save for a few dance history books. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case for everyone else. Thankfully, one pro definitely outweighs those cons. Ellie was going to help you study. Ellie is the reason you’re here at all.
You tidy up your outfit that you diligently put together and roam farther into the library, trying to hold down a smile that’s impossible to hold down. In fact, it completely takes over your face. You need to simmer down your giddiness before you start skipping around. You purse your lips and briefly steady your eyes on the dark, olive carpeted floor ahead of you.
You head towards the front desk that’s just a sunken step away with the intention of asking for directions to the study hall. An older lady is sitting there, glowering with obvious annoyance definitely because of your loud entry. It’s been ages since you’ve been in the library— your failing grade proves that— and clearly you’ve forgotten all the rules with it.
A flash of guilt passes through you and you force an apologetic smile. She returns it with a grunt and you immediately redirect yourself further into the library; aimlessly in search for the study hall.
-
You’ve been walking around for a solid five minutes and you swear you’ve passed the same fantasy section a million times now. It’d be smart to text Ellie and tell her you’ll be late, but your ego won’t let you.
The looming large, ornate bookshelves certainly don’t make it any easier for you to navigate around.
The question of why the school spent so much money on all this occupies your mind as you venture further. You make a turn around a corner you’ve definitely made before, and you sigh at the familiarity of the area in front of you.
You keep pressing forward anyway, hoping you can manage a new route this time around.
Before you can make another turn, you’re interrupted by drowned footsteps behind you blending into your own, followed by a tap on your shoulder. You flinch at the sudden touch, sharply turning around only to see Ellie looking at you with a downward smile.
“Lost?” She sarcastically presumes, her viridescent eyes taking in your shocked yet relieved expression.
You fiddle with the straps of your backpack between your fingers, shyly glancing around you. “No, I was just… looking for more textbooks.” You nod sagely at your own words, as if you’re trying to convince yourself too.
“Oh? Next to—“ The auburn-haired girl squints at the shelf behind you before adorning a wide grin, “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets?”
Your brows raise and you follow her eyes onto the obviously fiction-filled bookcase. “Uh, yeah? I’ve got Professor Snape at four.”
Ellie narrows her eyes at you in amused disbelief, trying not to laugh at your adorably dorky excuse.
Dramatically sighing in defeat, “Fuck, okay, you got me.” You say lowly, a bashful smile developing on your lips.
“You passed the study hall five times. I counted.” Ellie goads.
You partially suppress your laugh, mindlessly giving her arm a light smack. “Oh, my god. Don’t tell me that!”
She dotes on your laughter and your touch; whether it was intentional or not. Either way, she’s feeling good about herself now and her previous worries about this encounter floated away, and you could safely say the same.
“It’s a good book though, we can go back and get it. No need to be shy about it.” Ellie quips.
“Shush!”
—
With Ellie as your guide, the trip to the study hall was much easier than you made it out to be. You recognized the big glass windows you passed by often and when you stepped into it, you flushed with embarrassment. It was a direct contrast to the old-fashioned, mahogany colored library you’d been meandering around.
Ellie really could’ve counted the times you walked by, and she really did. The first time, she thought you must’ve seen a friend and left to catch up with them. However, the second time around she realized you might be lost.
She was going to text you and tell you to turn around, but she thought it was cute seeing you walk in circles, ignoring literally every sign in your way. By the fourth time, she could tell you thought you were in a time loop and she found it fucking hilarious. Someone like you, seemingly exceptional in everything but directions. The fifth time came and, of course, she decided she was being cruel and had to come help you herself.
Ellie leads you to the desk where she’s set camp at, and the amount of books and paperwork makes you dizzy. “Jesus, Els. Are you teaching me the entire course?”
She takes a seat before giving you an answer, “Well.. That depends on how bad you’re failing.”
You take a seat across from her, setting your backpack on the floor before resting your forearms on the oak table. “My teacher said I was dumb as fuck and essentially called me a homophobic slur.” You’re exaggerating, obviously, but that was exactly what it felt like.
Ellie scoffs out a sound, unsure of whether to laugh or be offended for you. “Damn... It’s Bill, isn’t it? God, that guy is a fuckin’ prick.” She questions, clearly unsurprised by his actions.
You sit upright in your chair, relief shining through your words, “Yes! Is that his thing?”
Ellie casually leans back, thinking back to when she was a student of his. “Oh, yeah. He’s a blunt guy, shitty filter,” She continues, and somehow you’re both meeting each other’s looks, “But he’s fair with his grades, n’ I know it doesn’t make it any better, but he has a husband. He’s just… old.. and grumpy.”
You try to consider that he is letting you retake a major grade. You guess you could appreciate that somewhat. “True... still, the comment was unprovoked. You must know him well though?”
“Yeah, I took his class last year. We were at each other's throats about coursework n’ shit. Really hard to reason with that guy.” Ellie purposely leaves out the part where she was being unreasonable too, but only for the sake of storytelling, of course. “Then that summer, I saw him at a family gathering.” She finishes off with a dramatic shiver in disgust and you laugh at how endearing it was.
“Anyways, his gaydar is somethin’ else. I can never tell.” She admits, carelessly waving a hand in the air. Ellie’s radar in particular is broken. Shattered, even. She can’t keep track of the amount of times she has stood in the shower, realizing a girl was flirting with her only days later.
“Even with me?”
“Even with you...” She speaks with artificial sadness and a slight sulk.
“Ouch… I’m wounded.” You fake a frown, slightly dropping your shoulders.
Ellie’s eyes fall to your nails; some suspiciously shorter than the others, and all painted in your favorite color. “But… that I know for sure, I can definitely tell.” Ellie comments.
A swarm of butterflies suddenly parade your belly, and you shine a coy smile her way. “They’re not short because of that…” Your half-hearted attempt to defend yourself drips in the lightness of your voice.
Ellie briefly raises her eyebrows with a sly smile plastered on her face, folding her arms over her chest; which, unbeknownst to you, was to shield how hard her heart was thumping. She’s shocked she hasn’t turned into a pile of mush yet, probably thanks to her smoke session earlier.
“I’m serious! I keep my hands to myself.” You continue on, putting in a little effort in your voice for your defense this time. For the most part it is true, lately your mind has been on Ellie, and Ellie only. The thought of random flings didn't excite you, but she did. However, it wasn’t not true that you’ve had a fair share of hookups. You’re in an art school, how could you not?
“C’mon, just yourself? I’m sure you've cared to share.” Ellie playfully pokes around you with her words; nonchalant and prone for a reaction.
Your jaw slightly drops, making your head tilt to the side incredulously. “Wow. What makes you think that?”
Ellie unfolds her tattooed arm to rub her palm against the back of her neck, responding unexpectedly timid, “Hey, ‘m not blind. I know you’re popular.”
You snicker at her explanation and shake your head. “They’re friends. You can be friends with girls even if you’re gay, Ellie.”
“Friends don’t touch you like that.” She notes with an uncharacteristically stern expression.
It surprises you for a second, but all it makes you wanna do is poke fun, tease her, and see where it’d go. “Like what?”
Ellie sighs, reluctantly explaining further, “Like they’ve touched you before.”
“Straight girls are touchy.” You shrug, purposefully ignoring what she tried to imply.
The way you said it so matter-of-factly makes Ellie’s eyes roll. “You know I don’t mean it like– ugh, my judgment is usually fucked up, but that? That I can tell the difference with.” Ellie states with surety.
You narrow your gaze at her, a teasing grin forming on your lips. “What are you jealous or something?”
“Of you or the girls?”
“Oh, the girls were an option?” You playfully remark, but also with honest curiosity in how she’d answer.
Ellie clears her throat and leans forward to place her textbooks into view, trying to hide the blush spreading across her features. She’s not doing a great job at it and you’d love to tease her some more, but you can settle with taking the win for now.
—
Night crept up faster than you both anticipated, the ambient sounds of paper printing and carts rolling by were no longer prevalent. The only thing filling the room is the buzz of the light fixture above and the words you two exchange. The table is cluttered with Ellie’s open notes and some textbooks with neon page markers poking out the sides. It wasn’t organized by any means, but it was a mess you both found easy to work around.
Surprisingly, Ellie is a great tutor. When she saw your paper, she didn’t make fun of you like you thought she would. Instead, she expressed how grating it is to remember all that crap and you shouldn’t give yourself a hard time over it.
To help you memorize the muscles of the body, you guys settled on one area and made up silly rhymes for it. She tried to argue that brachiosaurus was perfect for brachialis even though it didn’t even rhyme. You even gave her the chance to pick a different one, but then she said brachyceratops with a mockingly straight face and you knew she couldn’t be trusted for the task anymore.
The air between you two wasn’t stuffy or silent like you feared it’d be. Ellie made you laugh, not in the breathy forced way you’ve unknowingly gotten used to making.
She made sure you listened to her tips & tricks, made you review your mistakes so you wouldn’t repeat them again.
You hadn’t picked up your phone for anything other than to google things on the subject, and your ringer? Off. Your attention never strayed far from her. That made her undeniably nervous– sweaty, and hard for her to breathe normally, but she could acknowledge how well she was doing.
Ellie’s head is dipped down to a paper you two were working on and you’re openly ogling, wondering how she’d look in a pair of glasses. Flipping through papers, tapping the back of a pen on her inviting lips. You tell yourself you snap back to reality before your mind strays any further.
“If we keep this up, you’ll remember it all in no time” She encourages, eyes still glued on the paper. Secretly, she hopes it takes a little longer. Just a little.
“Thanks for helping me out, Els.” You say, face tilted into the palm of your hand.
Ellie looks up from the paper to give you a smile, but she doesn’t hold her gaze for long. A millisecond later and her blush would have you thinking she had a sudden, terrible fever.
“It’s no problem. It helps me out too.” Ellie points to the examples she sketched out for you with her pencil. She pauses before speaking again, trying to get rid of the sudden dryness in her mouth, “Can I ask you something?”
Studying her expectantly, you lift your head off your hand. “Yeah?”
Ellie fidgets with her pencil, trying to muster up courage. Her mouth feels dry trying to push out the words. “I’m also struggling with a class and uh,” she twirls her pencil in one hand, tucking a sliver of her hair behind her ear with the other, “I was wondering if you could be the model for my art final?” Her question came out whinier than she’d like it to, making her freckled-face wince.
You can sense how nervous she is about asking, but you can’t place your finger on why she ever would be. This is the first time anyone has ever asked you something like this, so in your mind it’s nothing but exciting, especially coming from her. You can already imagine yourself sitting prettily still while Ellie studies you and paints long, fancy strokes on a yellow canvas. “Ellie, are you kidding? I’d love to.”
Her lashes flutter in disbelief, “Really?”
“You’re helping me, so why not? It’s fair.”
“It’s kind of a weird thing to ask. I mean, we barely know each other.” Ellie murmurs, unaware that you have absolutely no idea what she’s on about.
You lift a brow at her. “We will eventually, right? What’s weird about a portrait anyways?”
“It’s not a portrait… Well, I guess it is–“ Ellie sighs into her palm, “I’m drawing you, but…” She cringes before she can finish her sentence.
“A portrait in pencil? What am l missing?” You slowly question.
“Think Titanic.” She grimaces as she waits for your reaction, trying not to bang her head on the table for picking Titanic of all movies.
“Titanic? What does that have to do with…” Your voice trails off, quieting down so you can process what Ellie said. Think Titanic. It's hard for you to connect what the 1997 romance movie had to with this, but when it connected, it connected. The infamous drawing scene was memorable. You’re in awe, not quite sure how to react.
“You don’t have to be fully… y’know..” Ellie insists.
Your face is still unreadable, as if you're lost in thought, and it’s freaking her out. Too many what-ifs are going through her head, all of them gradually getting worse the longer you stay silent. She thinks she got too close to the sun when she had more than enough warmth. She's already preparing herself for rejection, worryingly scouting your face for a hint of revulsion; however, it never comes.
“Oh. Okay.” You calmly respond with a shrug, your face still unreadable; the only difference being a light smile. You could’ve thought about it longer, but you’re so flattered Ellie wants you to pose for her that you rather worry about it later. She wants to sketch your body onto paper. Yours. It sounds vulnerable and a little nerve wracking, but she’s your friend. A friend you have a crush on, sure, but you wouldn’t want to inconvenience her over it. Plus, you owe her now. Really, you’re purely being selfless. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself.
“Okay?” Ellie repeats to make sure she was hearing things right.
“Like I said, you’re doing this for me, so I’ll do it for you.” You reassure, gesturing around to the study session laid across the table.
“Are you sure? You know I’ll still tutor you, even if you say no–”
“— Do you not want me to?” You pout your lips, hoping she hasn't changed her mind already.
“Are you shitting me? Of course I do. I just… didn’t expect you to say yes.” Ellie finally says, absolutely dumbfounded given her hand movements.
You laugh melodically, “Didn’t think that far, huh?”
“Nope.” She answers with a cute embarrassed smile, her blood rushing to her face.
Your phone buzzes, probably a text or notification. You reach out and shove a few papers to the side to get to it before taking a look, only for your eyes to be drawn to the time. “Shit. It’s late. I think the library closes soon…” You murmur regretfully, feeling all too comfortable where you were.
Ellie presses her tongue against her cheek in annoyance, upset that time dared to pass by as fast as it did. “We should get going then, I guess.” She says dejectedly, not wanting to leave you just yet.
You peep her suddenly gray aura and smile warmly towards her. “Can you walk me back to my dorms?”
She nods with subtle enthusiasm and pushes out of her seat, immediately packing all her belongings to join your side. “Yes! — I mean, sure. Yeah.”
—-
The lamp post lights are warm and waning, complimenting the shadows on both your faces. You two walk down the dark flagstone path towards the housing area, chatting about nothing. It’s nice to be able to spend a little more time with her before the night is over. Unfortunately, you guys were drawing closer and closer to your dorm and the feeling of loss came as quick as it left.
“Hey, Els?”
She glanced at you and hummed in response, giving you the signal to continue. “I was wondering if you were gonna be at some party tomorrow? Apparently Dina’s co-hosting it.”
Ellie looks at you quizzically before looking off elsewhere to think. “Why the fuck would they party on a Sunday?”
You snort out a laugh before lifting and dropping your shoulders, “I don’t know, senioritis or something. Will you come though?”
“Mhm, I’ll be there.” She smiles as she speaks, loving how your face lit up by the end of it. Ellie isn’t too fond of parties, but for you? She can make an exception.
You cheer in a whisper tone and it makes Ellie smile harder, her features creasing in adoration. You two finally approach your dorm building. You walk up a step before turning to wave goodbye. She raises a palm in return and you flash her a smile that makes her heart leap before turning into the building.
If Ellie couldn’t tell before, she’s completely enamored by you.
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a/n: fuck jk rowling but i rlly couldnt think of any other commonly known fantasy book :/
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#ellie x reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#ellie x you#ellie x y/n#ellie x fem reader#tlou2#ellie the last of us#ellie williams x female reader#ᝰ like a french girl
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Miguel O'Hara is a world-renowned professional boxer, and Hobie's other best friend. One night he finally makes the two worlds collide and sparks immediately fly between the two of you. But will he distract you from meeting your publisher's deadline? And will you distract him from getting World Champ?
before you follow. m.list. Iron Fist gfx library. series m.list. tag list.
Prologue. I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. Epilogue.
wc. 1.5k
an. hi. its me! Giselle, or gi, or gigi to few (not to be confused w gg, that is one of my moots. she makes really cool art.) n e ways here is the awaited Prologue for Iron Fist. Oh goodness I'm so nervous. I just want to make a few things clear. the reader is an author (obvs). She's recently graduated uni and is Latina! I write with a woc!r in mind always. I try to be as inclusive as possible, pero porque soy Mexicana, r might lean towards being more Mexican but I'll try to keep her Spanish standard and not be too specific to my family's culture. much love! hope you enjoy <3
please don't forget to reblog! likes do nothing to boost engagement.
Your foot taps against the floor. The damn blank document stares back at you. Mocking you is what it’s really doing. Fuck you, you think, I achieved my goal. I published a book and it is a damn bestseller! Only problem is that the readers want more. It’s been… some time since your first book. And sure, Jess said you can take a break before starting a new project. But you also know that it’s good to ride on existing publicity. At least be able to make an announcement that you’re writing something while all this excitement lasts. Maybe you should write something about vampires. You love vampires and how they fit into romance and how them drinking blood is a euphemism just a bit away from, the whole cannibalism-equals-all-consuming-love trope and how when a vampire attacks it’s often an allegory for rape and— but you have nothing to add to the conversation. You have nothing new to say, no new perspective or hot take, or twist. You have nothing. No ideas.
Not a single word on the page.
You have an idea, leaning forward to peck the keyboard. “F-u-c-k. T-h-i-s!” You highlight the text and italicize it.
Fuck this. At least it’s words on the page.
You reach for your cup and take a sip. “If all else fails I can ride on the rest of the signing bonus and royalties for a bit since the book is doing good, and once that dries up, I can apply to be circulation assistant at a library or something.” You sigh and take another sip. “But nobody has to know for now.” You get up, searching for your phone. You find it resting on the arm of the couch, you grab it, sliding onto the cushions, resting your head where your phone just was. “God, don’t make me a one hit wonder, I wanna be a star. I wanna be the one to push that bitch Colleen Hoover into obsoletion. Please God. Please.”
You open your phone and look for your mother on speed dial.
“Hola, nena!” Your mama’s voice is happy, she must be having a good day. You move into the kitchen. You need a snack.
“Hey, mama, how are you?” You hold the cell with your shoulder as you look through your pantry.
“Good, good,” you find a pack of roasted seaweed snacks and grab it.
“I went on a date anoche.” Your shoulder drops and the pack of seaweed slips out of your grasp.
Mi mami fue a una cita. Con un man! You stand there, trying to process that she is actually back on the dating scene.
“How did it—” you aren’t holding your phone anymore. You use the wall as support to lower yourself to pick up your phone and snack.
“—ay, mami, lo siento, mi cellular se cayo de mi mano.”
“Todo bien, hija! I’m glad you’re ok.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m ok, I’m ok. Anyways— how was the date? What’s he like? Am I going to have a stepfather soon?” you joke.
“My time for marriage is gone, muñeca, I’m just looking for companionship, pero, tu lo sabes.” You hear some subtle clinking in the background of the call, she must be stirring her coffee. You open your snack and park yourself on the couch. “Are you writing?” Ugh. Not you, too.
“I was, just finished for a bit before I called you.”
“You called me to procrastinate.” You choke on your seaweed from the accusation.
You clear your throat, “I called to check in with you. I call you practically every day.”
“But right now you called me to check up on me as an excuse to not write. Nena, I know you.”
“Okay, fine. I might be having some writer’s block,” you admit, sighing.
“And that’s okay, nena, but then you need to get out, get some inspiration. Allow the world to give you a story.” There’s mama, with her easier-said-than-done advice. But, maybe you should get out of the house.
“Alright, I’ll go out soon.”
“Tonight,”
“—I will go out to the Chinese place across the street and nothing more. I’ll talk with Hobie when he gets back to see if he has any ideas.” You hear your mama make a noise in her throat.
“You still live with that boy?” Here it comes. You’ve lived with Hobie Brown for three years and have known him for five. She’s always been apprehensive of him, since he’s radical and looks like he’s been in jail, with all the metal in his face, and why does his hair look like that? But Hobie is the one who’s kept you sane all these years. He’s held you while you cried and pushed out of your comfort zone when you were getting too stuck into your routines, most likely by dragging you to a concert or a protest. You help him thrift and flip clothes and ever since that one time his stylist had an emergency and canceled, you now help him tighten his wicks every so often. On days like that the two of you stay in, watching nostalgic movies and listening to any demos he’s recorded recently. He’s like a brother to you at this point.
“Yes, mama, I still live with Hobie. Nothing’s changed.” You move the phone down to your chest and take a deep breath.
“I didn’t like him when I first met him,” you clench your jaw as she continues— “…and although he’s one of those kids, I can tell he is a good boy. I’m glad he takes care of you.” You relax. “But it wouldn’t hurt to have someone you could kiss.” “It would be nice, but right now it’s not happening.” “Alright, muñeca. I’ll leave you alone for now, but keep your eyes open for a nice man.”
“I will, con cuidado, mami, besitos.” You make a kissing noise into the phone, and she responds with a goodbye of her own, and you wait for her to hang up the call.
You sigh, and look at the coffee table. Hobie left his song book at home, weird. It’s open to the song he was working on the other day. It’s a slower song, you can still hear the melody. You drum your fingers to the tune. He’s on an unfinished verse. You pick up a pen from the little catch-all dish and scribble down a line or two.
…
Hobie weaves through the roar of chattering, anticipating fans and into the tunnel, and walks past employees and into Miguel's prep room to see him tying his shoes. “Hey,” Miguel looks up. “Hey.”
“Are you excited?” He moves to sit by the boxer, shimmying up against his shoulder.
“Haven’t really been excited for one of these in a while.” Miguel breathes.
“Well, one step closer to retirement!” Hobie bounces out of his seat. He turns to face his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna do great, you big fuckin’ bear of a man.” He ruffle’s Miguel’s hair.
Miguel gives a half-ass hum in response.
“Well then, I’ll be out there, mate, cheerin’ you on.” He puts his hands in his vest pockets and walks out the room.
As he reaches the empty doorframe, Miguel speaks up. “Thank you, Hobie.”
“Anything for you, mate.” Hobie nods and goes to join the audience. Miguel fastens his gloves and puts on his robe. He warms up waiting for his coach.
“Ready, O’Hara?”
Miguel turns around. “Always ready for a fight.” He clenches his jaw. Walking down that hallway, the festive colors lighting up his path and the music blaring, he does his little bit, the movements molded into muscle memory.
This is it. This is his last year fighting. If he gets world champ again, he’s free.
Soon, he gets to fight his last fight. And dammit, the world championship will be his last match. Then, he’s never gonna have to come back.
He weaves under the ropes, entering the ring. Sitting on the stool, he shrugs off the robe and lets Carlos put the mouthguard in.
“You are going to show this guy exactly why people call you el oso!” Miguel beats his gloves together and nods. He might not like his job right now, but he really wants to hit something and goddammit if his opponent doesn’t look so beatable right now.
Coach Carlos steps out of the way, and Miguel stands to walk to the ref as he calls for him to center.
“We went over the rules in the dressing room.” Right before Hobie got here. “I want to remind you to protect yourself at all times, and obey my commands.” Ring the damn bell already. “God bless you both,” I don’t need it but this kid might. “Touch up,” here we go. He touches gloves with his newbie opponent and each goes back to their respective corners.
Miguel takes an orthodox stance.
The bell rings.
Miguel lands the first punch. He also lands the last.
#Iron Fist 🥊#my writing#boxer!miguel o'hara#boxer!miguel#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#boxer!miguel x author!reader#miguel o'hara x you#across the spiderverse#spiderman atsv#spiderverse#atsv#atsv x reader#atsv x fem!reader#atsv x you#age gap relationship#miguel my love
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Hello M! slashers for a crazy boy s/o ♡
Not sure what you meant, but enjoy
PRETTY LITTLE PSYCHO
Your personality attracted them. When society deems you a problem, a danger to its very foundation, they are there to praise the very soil you walk in
You aren't afraid of the unconventional, quite the opposite. You look for it, never shying away from the gruesome facet of reality.
Hannibal is one such admirer: he knew from the first time he met you at the library that you were different. It took just a glance. Predators knew each other after all. In your eyes he saw a dangerous curiosity. He knew you knew who he was, yet you held such fondness that he could not help himself. He longed for you, deeply. And it made his heart beat faster when he found sculptures dedicated to him. A declaration of love, bathed in the blood of the lambs. Pure and unconditional love.
You were like a God walking amongst the proselytes, and he was your fervent disciple. You grace his presence with love and blood, and he can't help but offer you more of his arts, hoping to declare in the most candid way what he felt. Love was ablaze, and the heart he served you was the loudest form of love you have ever been graced by
Jesse knew you were different, in fact you never questioned why he had so many snuff films or why he had to go away on business trips so often. Nor the numerous and quite impressive collection of knives. He told you one night what he did and you only shrugged, asking him what he wanted for dinner instead.
He fell hard, and he asked you on such day to marry him. Blood reflected off your shirt, making you an ethereal sight. An angel of war, born by steel and blood. His own little psycho. He loved you, so much that it hurt. And the little piggy you gifted him for his anniversary? If he ever had doubts about your dedication, they vanished that day. Killing together had never been so intimate and meaningful
Asa studied you. A teacher of taxidermy was so unlikely that he had to understand you. You were like him: you kept to yourself, never going out of your way to be a social bee, and yet when you taught how to preserve dead bodies, your eyes gained a different shine. They glowed in the dark. He wanted to see for himself the difference, he attended one of your classes. When your gaze locked, he felt a shiver go down his spine. Impossible. He was a killer, he was cold and tough, yet a mere glance from you put fear in his heart. But something hidden behind it told him something else.
He had to know you better. He knew he had been recognised, he felt it in the way you talked to him, almost like you knew what he did as a hobby. But he didn't expect to be asked out in the most macabre yet fascinating way possible. A new addition to the hotel was left for him, in the form of one of his favourite arachnids. Only you knew that one, and only you could do something like this.
He had never been more glad to be married. He didn't have to hide with you, he could talk with excitement about the projects he had for the hotel, and you would stand there smiling, admiring the man in front of you with such fervent regard and passion. He had found his equal, his partner, his own little butterfly.
#slashers x male reader#slasher community#slashers x gn reader#slashers fanfiction#slashers imagine#hannibal#the collector#jesse cromeans
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heyyyyy, what are you mcsm headcannons. You’re art is very cool and I’m intrigued 😋
Your*
Teehee anyway
I have a LOT i'm not getting into rn but. These are my blorbos I have a whole LIST
Mostly will be surrounded around Jesse (green suspenders ftw), Lukas and Petra since they're my favorites
To start, which is something i think should be more popular:
JESSE IS A THEATRE KID!!! You cannot convince me otherwise. That guy is dancing and singing around to the waitress soundtrack and I'm not taking no for an answer
Lukas' favorite animal is NOT an ocelot it's a serval but his idiot friends didn't care enough to put any thought into it (and servals don't exist in minecraft 😔) serval Lukas supremacy
Petra's prolly got a whole lotta scars under all those freaking layers she wears. Adventuring in the Nether, especially alone is not easy and you probably wouldn't come out of there unscathed
I'm a firm believer in Lukas was pining over Jesse for a while so he tried to not be mean to his friends but his own friends suck so bad. Aiden literally made me want to punch a hole in the wall and I left him to die in sky city <3. Lukas fell first for a while and it was bad. It was real bad. My guy was oblivious to his own feelings but Jesse was even more oblivious </3 he's a little slow in that department but they get there eventually
I'm also hopping on the gay Lukas and bi Jesse bandwagon. Petra is a lesbian, Olivia is pan and Axel is prolly straight. Idk I don't find him to be very interesting past his main arc in s1 but I haven't seen s2 yet so. NO SPOILERS!!
It's been foreshadowed before that Lukas is somewhat interested in history (Jesse makes a comment on how much he loved seeing the statues in Soren's cave and the giant library, he's so silly) when he isn't going on adventures or being a fag he's reading some kind of history book or looking at ancient artifacts he collects (like rocks <3) (can you tell im projecting) (im not trust)
Jesse can't sing for shit and neither can any of his friends. When they harmonize it's so bad it sounds astonishing - compared to Lukas who's va can sing his ass off. Angelic voice x the sound of god dying solidarity <3 (also the gorgeous brown eyes + the blue eyes that stare into your soul)
The amount of TENSION when Jesse and Lukas had that last talk before Lukas went to find his friends was so thick. I could feel it through the screen. "I'll always find my way back to you" HELLO? (ik that isnt the direct quote but its close) they shouldve kissed. Fuck you
There's just tension in general. Everyone can sense it except for them. Even Axel. Who's prolly straight or smth idk i'm working on that
Olivia is both their wingman. She confronts Lukas first and he can't deny it without looking stupid, and then Jesse starts questioning his life choices and she gets to work. It is a very long. Slow. Process. But it's worth it!!
That's all I can think of for now, tune in next time for more on the next episode of dragonball z
#mcsm#minecraft story mode#lukas minecraft story mode#jesse minecraft storymode#olivia minecraft story mode#axel minecraft story mode#jesskas#mcsm headcanons#maybe i'll draw smth. idk
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okay so most of the organization for the library of jesse project is done. considering everything, i think i'll pick this back up at a later date. my brain is just steaming whenever i try to do anything for it rn. everything's in order for me to just get started when i'm ready. right now though? i just got a bunch new silly little guys to play with in my brain, including the one from yesterday's post, so i think i'll go make stuff for them. my hyperfixes usually last like 4 days to 3 weeks so if i feel myself slipping i'll try to come back to this.
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The book you binded looks so cool!!! I've been meaning to get into book binding as well, especially for One Piece fics and I love the format you did it in with Zoro's logo. How did you edit it? Would you be willing to share tips on how you did it? Did you watch book binding YouTube videos?
Thanks, anon! I'm glad you enjoyed! And I'm absolutely willing to share what I learned!
For the general book-binding, I used a couple book binding how-to videos.
Turning Fanfiction Into the Hardcover Book it Deserves by Jess Less
This one helped with:
How to use an old book cover/used book for the cover of the fanfic (you can also MAKE covers, and she has another video on this as well, but I love the idea of recycling old unwanted books into something new and loved)
The basics for formatting the pages (her bit about adding a compass design for the chapters is what inspired me to use Zoro's flag logo)
How to print and prep the pages/signatures
How to finish putting the whole thing together and add some interesting design elements
I especially liked this video because it's very beginner-friendly and casual, which helped the whole project feel a little less daunting. You can get special tools for book binding (there are kits online) but as shown, it's also simple enough to do with a thumbtack and some corkboard if you're low on cash.
That said, I found the stitch in this video a bit confusing, so I used the stitch from this video instead:
Folding & Sewing - Rounded and Backed Cased Book // Adventures in Bookbinding by DAS Bookbinding
Stitch prep is specifically around 7min in if you just want to skip to that. But the whole thing is an interesting watch too. This is more professional bookbinding and he has a lot of other interesting videos if you want to do some more complex things. However I found this stitch to be very straightforward and easy to follow and assemble, so I ultimately used this one when I put together Seven Deaths.
As for my personal tips and things I learned while doing this project?
Turns out Google Docs is kind of useless for this. You'll want actual word processing software like Microsoft Word. If you don't have the cash to spend on Microsoft's ridiculous subscription policy, you can use LibreOffice which is free (I did, and it works very well).
Fics are way longer on paper than they are digitally. Seven Deaths is 'only' about a 50K fic (less, in fact). But it still makes a 200+ page book. Pic a smaller fic to start with while you figure out everything you want to do.
Do some research on good book fonts for the body of your text. You can get crazy with other things (chapter headers or title pages) but pic something recommended for your text body so it's legible.
To add character symbols (like Zoro's flag) you'll need a transparent copy of it to save as a png. Once you pull it into the word doc you can resize and arrange as needed.
Also look at other "real" books you have lying around for ideas for things to add to your book! I turned an author's note into a "Forward", added an "about the author/publisher" section at the back, put in a table of contents, etc. There's other things I want to experiment with next time. Go wild! Have fun!
Test print a couple pages before printing the full project, just to be sure it's actually the right page size, your font is legible and spaced well, etc. If you don't have a printer and you don't want to pay a print shop for some expensive test pages, try your local library! Many let you use their computers and printers for an extremely low cost.
If you don't have a printer (or not one that can do quality printing for 200+ pages) you'll need to go to a print shop. DON'T bother with places like Staples or OfficeMax. I tried this, but their machines automatically staple "booklets" out of your signatures, which messes up your paper and costs extra for this "service." Instead, track down a local print shop in your area. It's easier to talk to them directly about what you want and the quality is better anyway.
On that note, this is an expensive hobby! Printing for Seven Deaths was about $87USD. The quality was worth it, but definitely do not start if you don't have your own printer or a little bit of spending money.
You do not need as much glue or thread as you think you need. Go less. Waste not.
A lot of the end stages is just...waiting...for...glue...to...dry.
You will inevitably, invariably, mess things up on your first project. I sure did! I underestimated the sharpness of some tools and put holes places I didn't mean to; some things glued in a bit sloppily; I didn't set up my page organization exactly right my table of contents ended up on the left page when I envisioned it on the right. But you know what? It doesn't matter! Because at the end of the day you have a book that YOU MADE. And it's still fucking awesome! And now you've learned some things for next time. Do it anyway and have fun with it!
Happy crafting, anon. I hope you are able to add some personal favorites to your bookshelf soon :)
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I want to know more about the m9 artist au!! I remember reading a post or two about it a billion years ago (and would love to read them again) 💜
hi jess!!!! thank u for being interested hehe :")
so ever since i drew that lil thing of essek painting a frank stella inspired painting (or even before), ive been thinking of what kinds of art each of the m9 would do. essek ofc is inspired by a minimalist show that i went to here, all the big names from that movement were shown, but those really dark, sinkhole-like paintings are speaking to me. another artwork of boxes made of mirrors also seems like the thing he would do too
there's a kiln here that we visited which was huge, and surrounding it were artists' studios and some other ceramic sellers, i imagine the clay family having a place like this in the middle of nowhere amongst the trees, and caleb would do his work there
anyways because at heart im a shadowgast luver its centred around them,, they meet at an artist residency or something like that and its an incredibly slow burn that involves talking and not-talking and looking and not-looking. in the end i am but a simple wong kar wai fan so. that kinda vibes would definitely influence this, i would describe it as a quiet burning i guess?? time skipy and words that are not said
i think im gonna rant a bit more about their different mediums and styles so i'll keep it under the cut
i think caleb sculpts figures and portraits, but in a sad, kathe kollwitz charcoal vibe. maybe some funky looking animals, perhaps some pots and vases to look at the pretty glazes. he's interested in using fire to burn texture into different mediums, like ive seen it being used on shellac to make a really cool net of ink looking structure.. but yknow, just seeing the aftermath of glazed ceramic from the kiln is enough, and probably better for him to keep his distance anyways
the clay family produces most of the ceramic to sell, vases, pots, plates, cups, teapots, yknow just a whole array. and its really colourful too, depicting every family members different style. i think caduceus would do some matte glazes with a lot of different colours, theyre all a little wonky but theyre better off that way anyways. he does some really mean ink calligraphy and painting though
jester definitely does,, everything, whatever her heart desires kinda thang. she makes pastel textile installations and lighthearted cute paintings, but theyre always so contemplative and soothing. she gets m9 a lot of work cus her mom has connections, etc etc. i really love the idea of jester creating works that talk about the female body and femininity (definitely not projecting no)
beau is a printmaker and photographer who's really experimental, she loves cyanotypes and printing flowers (for yasha), idk she seems like she would put fabric and rocks into the washing machine to see what would happen. u would probably catch her in someone elses studio learning about what they do or in the library learning about what old people did
veth works in a museum as a curator, getting beau to help her sometimes with gathering artworks and artists etc. she probably organises community art projects for kids and public art installations. her house is full of m9's artworks and various other artists shes worked with.
yasha does bouquets as her post-retirement part time job, prior to that no one really knows what she did ("she probably murdered a bunch of people and is now hiding from the government"). fjord draws comics for fun but is also not a job for him, molly is a question mark for me. but these guys probably wont be in it as much anyways
im still not sure what format i wanna do this in, im actually having fun just writing it in my notebook now (digital does not facilitate the creative juices) but i do want to do some visuals like fake movie stills or storyboards. maybe they will work together well???? dunno. working on the other shadowgasty thing im doing made me realise how much easier it is to draw when there's a script already there, so im writing the script for myself
im definitely not as practiced in writing as i am in drawing, but idk im just gonna have some fun and see where that takes me, meanwhile try not to feel too bad that its fanart HAHA (very bad habit)
edit: i just saw my previous thoughts on beau being an art journalist, but i kinda like this better.. but maybe she can do both muah
#working tag for this ->#the kiln#honestly if u had any tips for writing#i'd love to hear..#i was insulted once on my writing and never wrote again HADHSFHF#oh and also emo smoking#that is somethng i want to draw more of
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Hey! This is super late but congrats on your follower milestone 🎉 I love your Blackdale fics so much (especially anything post ChoT!) and I was wondering if I could request a fic where Lucie and Jesse go on holiday for the first time? I thought it could be fun to see since Jesse hasn’t gotten to travel before 🥹💛
Thank you very much, I'm humbled! 😊💜 Here I finally am, with the fic. I hope you like this because there were several cities ideas for them, but once I was sold on the two I chose, I thought they were perfect. 💖
Read on A03
Farewell. Farewell! One Kiss and I'll Descend
February, 1905: London
A bright winter morning, Jesse decided that it was time for him to make another one of his dreams come true. Dreaming was the only thing he could do while he was a ghost. He could only long to be under the sun again, the warm rays grazing his skin even during the cold seasons. He could only crave the food he saw on people’s tables during their meals, or the satisfied expression of children when they ate their favorite dessert. He could only long to touch someone or to be held, or simply being seen and acknowledged.
Ever since he had been granted another chance at living, he decided to use it to the fullest. He had several things he wanted to accomplish, but he was aware that he couldn’t do everything at once. Some things needed time, like this project that wouldn’t leave his thoughts. The idea of it scared him a bit, but he thought it was time to think about it, make it real. He needed to face his fears. He had been thinking about that plan for weeks, but for one reason or another, he thought it was better to postpone it. He didn’t even talk about it to anybody. Not directly, at least.
He stirred in his bed, his joints cracking when he curled his toes and fingers. He was still amazed by the sounds his body could produce. Things moved about him, inside of him, never ceasing to remember him that he was alive. He yawned. He was up awfully earlier than usual, but Will gave a task and it would offer him the perfect occasion to research for his dream. That was what it still was. A dream. He needed to organize, otherwise, he knew he would delay this idea even more.
He got ready and he headed to the library. He sometimes liked to be an early riser, and he started taking notice of the small habits of the inhabitants of the London Institute. He knew that Bridget never rose before seven, and she tended to a small garden in the backyard before she cooked their breakfast. Will was the earliest riser of them all. He was often up at five thirty, to go out to ride on his horse Balios for an hour or two. Lucie told him that Will gifted Balios to her, but he loved the horse and when he had time, he tried to ride before the city would wake up.
The day before, Will asked him if he could help rearrange a section of the library. Jesse didn’t think twice before saying yes. He thought that he could research on his project while being there. It was the perfect moment. Lucie would be away for the whole day with Cordelia, and she wouldn’t disturb it. She wouldn’t find out about the dream, either. She couldn’t. Yet.
Jesse rummaged through the shelves of the library in search of books he could use for his specific research. The library of the London Institute was so big and very stocked, that it was like looking for a needle in a haystack, but he was sure he would find something before nightfall.
First things first, though. He needed to start rearranging the books before researching for his own ends. He decided that for every twenty books he would rearrange, he would take a break to go to the section where the books he needed were located. Funnily enough, that section was better organized than the one he was looking after, and he wondered why.
He found several photo albums with pictures of the Herondales when they were younger. They loved to take photographs, even though they used to take more time to develop when Will and Tessa got married. He found their wedding invitation in a small blue album. There was also a collection of photos of them with James and Lucie.
He heard footsteps behind him and he turned, nodding his head to greet Tessa who had just entered the library. She was another early riser, he learned. “Good morning, Jesse,” she greeted him with a sincere smile, eyeing the albums he was looking at. “She was so cute, wasn’t she?”
Jesse smiled. He always smiled when he thought about Lucie or someone just mentioned her. Just thinking about her filled his heart with glee and adoration. He glanced at the photographs, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I hope it’s okay I was going through these,” he said apologetically. “But I couldn’t help myself.”
“They’re here for a reason,” Tessa grabbed another box where some more pictures were stored. “Oh, this seems like ages ago,” she sighed, and Jesse saw that it was yet another photo of Lucie as a little kid, wearing her gear for the first time.
Jesse grabbed another album, this time one that looked so old and worn. On the front there was a small inscription: Paris, 1879. “I like looking at old photos,” he muttered shyly, “it’s interesting to see how people or places changed through the years.”
“This was the first time we went on a trip together,” Tessa said, touching one of the pictures affectionately. It was a photo of her and Will in front of the church of Notre Dame. “We still weren’t married by then, but we still wanted to go on a trip,” she chuckled, as if she had just told him a secret. “Will had just turned eighteen,” she added, and her voice made Jesse think that it hurt Tessa to be the only one stuck in time, the only one time that didn't change. She looked at the photo with melancholy, but then she turned to him. “Were you looking for something specific, Jesse?”
“I would love to go on a trip as well,” he said honestly, putting the photos back where they belonged. “Go somewhere just for a few days – for now. I’ll have my travel year to stay longer. When I decide where I want to go,” he stated, realizing he was probably rambling. “I was looking for maps and Baedekers,” he added.
“A trip sounds like the perfect break from the London routine,” Tessa tilted her head to the side, as if thinking. “Have you already thought of a destination?”
“I have a place in mind that’s not too far,” he mulled over with a frown. “But I’ll have to check the guides to see if it’s feasible. Also,” he scratched his chin, “I didn’t plan to go by myself. I wanted to leave with Lucie,” he revealed, feeling his cheek heat up. “She still doesn’t know that I want to go on a trip. I needed to be sure of a few details before asking,” he sighed, “in case, uhm, it doesn’t go well.”
“Why shouldn’t it go well?” Tessa wondered, focused on the shelves before them. “Listen. I can help you if you tell me your idea,” she offered, “I’m more familiar than you are with this library, and I’m here to help you rearrange the books,” she said.
“In case you, uhm, don’t give us permission to go,” he confessed.
“You don’t need our permission to go on a trip, Jesse, even though I’m glad you asked,” Tessa replied with a smile, and he grinned. “Lucie, however –” she left the sentence hanging. Perhaps she was thinking about it, but didn’t have an answer to give him. She probably implied she had to ask for permission to leave.
He was independent, and he would turn nineteen in a few weeks. He knew that he could go and leave wherever he wanted, if he wanted to. And Lucie could too, but he realized that their situation was slightly different. They would be away from home together for a few days. And they would be alone. Unsupervised. Will and Tessa asked them to keep the doors to their rooms open whenever they wanted to be together at the Institute. This way, they wouldn’t be tempted to do things they shouldn’t do. He wondered if they would let their only daughter leave with her boyfriend to go on a trip. He still thought it didn’t hurt to ask.
“I know it is an improper thing to do, and that we will be by ourselves” he said quietly. “Because we are not married,” you also weren’t married either when you went on your first trip, he wanted to add, but held his tongue. He didn’t want to look like he was trying to bribe Tessa, so she would give them the green light to leave. “I still thought it was worth trying to ask.”
“Dear, no,” Tessa touched his shoulder lightly, guiding him to the right section of the library. Why did he miss it before? He waited expectantly for her to continue with a pensive expression. At least, he hadn’t told Lucie. She would be devastated if her parents said no. “I meant that wasn’t the right aisle to look for Baedekers and maps,” she reassured him, and he relaxed a bit. “We’ve known each other for a year, Jesse,” she started, “and you’ve been nothing short of reliable and delightful to be around. We only established rules because we know our daughter can be,” she looked for the term, “quite convincing when she wants to do something, but I think you realized that yourself.”
Jesse laughed. “I would do anything for Lucie,” he said sincerely.
Tessa seemed pleased by his answer. “We trust you, Jesse,” she replied. “I always did. And I know Will trusts you too, but you should talk to him too,” she leaned closer to the shelves to search for a book. “Start looking here,” she suggested, “and talk to her too. I’m sure she will be the one begging her father to let her go as soon as you tell her your idea.”
“I sure will,” he sighed, glancing at the books, noticing something about the country he wanted to visit already. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Tessa.”
Jesse spent the whole morning with Tessa in the library. Lucie’s mother found a few books that could be useful to plan his trip, but they didn’t have the latest editions. She suggested he look for them in an actual bookstore, and that was what Jesse set himself to do after lunch.
“Are you free this afternoon?” he asked Lucie once they finished eating their lunch. Tessa rose from her chair, smiling at the both of them.
Once her mother left, Lucie shifted on her chair so she would face Jesse, who sat in the chair next to hers. “I was hoping you’d say that,” she beamed at him. “I need to buy some writing supplies, otherwise, I won’t be able to write tonight.”
“That would be a catastrophe,” Jesse joked, getting an eye roll from Lucie. “Did you already run out of paper like the other time?”
“I did,” she huffed. “I’ve wasted a lot of paper because I just can’t get this scene right. I wrote it so many times, my brain started to hurt. Can brains hurt?” she wondered, but he shrugged. “It’s supposed to be set in a foreign country, but this time, my imagination just won’t work. I feel like it looks fake. How did Jane Austen manage?”
Jesse shrugged, putting his fork in the empty dish on the table. “I don’t know, why don’t you ask her?”
Something lit up in Lucie's eyes, and she gaped at him. “Should I call for her ghost, you think? That would be a great idea.”
“Lucie, no,” he shook his head and stood up. “Let her rest in peace and let’s enjoy the world of the living, since we can,” he stroked her shoulder with fondness, and she nodded.
They went out an hour later without the carriage. It was a beautiful spring day and the weather was warmer than usual, so much so that Lucie wasn’t wearing a coat on her dark pink day dress. Jesse himself ditched his wool coat in favor of a cotton jacket in a dark green color. In the front pocket Lucie put a handkerchief that was the same color of her dress because it was made from the same material, and was supposed to go with the bag that matched it.
“It’s better if you have it, Jesse,” she carefully folded the material and adjusted it in his pocket. “So you and I will match.”
“Won’t you need it?” Jesse asked then, an eyebrow raised. “In case, you know, you have to clean your nose or you just need a tissue.”
Lucie patted his chest lightly and grinned, and he knew that the argument was closed. Well, if she ended up needing the kerchief, he would give it to her.
They decided not to use any invisibility runes on themselves, since they needed to buy things. They couldn’t simply take things from shops, lest they would scare the mundanes present.
Lucie took his hand when they exited the Institute, and he accepted it giddily. This was yet another thing he enjoyed as a living person. He loved when she did these small gestures of affection, like when she held his hand as they walked casually through the streets of London. He loved when the onlookers thought they were an ordinary couple of young lovers just trotting in search of the perfect place to eat or to buy a new hat, or simply going to the park for a picnic.
He never took these things for granted. Even though they did mundane things, they meant the world to him. He used to desire them at night, while he was still half himself, part human, part ghost. He still couldn’t believe he could now hold her hand whenever he wished to, and feel her warmth radiating through him like a balm. It was like coming back home every time.
He kissed her hand as they walked, and Lucie grinned at him, and gave him a questioning look.
“I just wanted to do it,” Jesse said, almost knocking into someone to stare at his girlfriend.
“You can do it again, if you like,” she offered, her cheeks rosy. “Let’s be scandalous.”
“This is not very scandalous, I’m afraid,” he brought her hand to his lips again, “But still intimate to me, to do it in front of a crowd.”
“You also did it while we were at parties and danced. A few guests most likely saw you doing it,” Lucie retorted.
“Yes, but we were among acquaintances, Lucie,” he said. “Now we’re among strangers — ah, whatever. I forgot what I was meant to say, but we’ve arrived.”
Lucie nodded, and they entered the big four story shop. Jesse knew that Lucie loved this place. It not only had a floor dedicated to books, it also had a whole area with notebooks, pens, and other supplies. Sometimes, when he accompanied her to get paper and such, he stared curiously at the various objects that they sold, wondering if he should take on a hobby too. Glancing at the glass containers full of pencils and bottles with acrylic paint also distracted him from the chaos of the store, which teemed with mundanes about that hour.
Once they were done, they set for the bookstore floor. Jesse thought that he would tell her about the trip as soon as they found what he needed. He wanted to surprise her, but he didn’t know how she would take it. He would know soon enough.
“Where are we headed?” Lucie asked.
“The guides and maps section,” he answered with the hint of a smile. He was sure that he had peaked Lucie’s interest with that, in fact –
“Oh, how come? Do you need them for the library?”
“No, I need them for myself,” he said as they finally found the right section of the store, which was the quietest area. He stopped in front of the first shelf, where he noticed some guides. “This must be the right place.”
“I didn’t know you were interested in Baedekers, Jesse,” she commented as he started looking. He saw with the corner of his eye that she was expectant and curious. Good. “I mean, among the many things you read, it didn’t look like you liked this genre.” Her face lit up suddenly, and she grinned. “Now I understand,” she mused, “you want to help me with my writing, don’t you? To research the place where that part of the book is set.”
“In fact, I don’t,” he turned to her.“They’re meant to be used when you go on a trip.”
He heard Lucie sigh next to him, but it was quiet. “Are you planning to go on a trip? And where?” she asked, her voice rising on the second question. An old woman who was walking in the same aisle gave her a disapproving glance. She managed a smile. “If you want to tell me, of course.”
“I’m looking for maps and guides on Italy, Lucie,” he revealed. He started walking slowly along the shelves because he still couldn’t find any. “Can you help me find some?”
“Of course,” she replied. He glanced at her, trying to gauge her expression. She was a mix of sad and disappointed, but also a little mad. It was easy to read Lucie. She wasn’t good at hiding her feelings, even though she was trying now. But he knew from her mouth. She was pursing her lips – he really wanted to grab her by the waist and kiss her right there and tell her everything, but he decided to wait.
He mouthed a thanks, and pretended to be engrossed in the books in front of him, when he really wanted to see what she would do. He was teasing her.
“There it is!” she said giddily, pointing her finger at one of the top shelves. She rose on her tiptoes and tried to reach for it, but she couldn’t. “By the angel, how should short people reach for books if they put them so high?”
Jesse spotted the book she was trying to grab and picked it himself along with another one that was right next to it. “These could be helpful, they need to be. I wonder why they don’t have more,” he opened the volume and showed what was inside to her. “Well, we have to settle for what we’ve got.”
“May I borrow them for my research once you’re done?” she wondered brightly, hands tight on her small purse. “You know that part of my story is set in Italy. It could be useful.”
“It could be useful indeed,” he said. “But it would be even better to see the real thing with your own eyes,” he teased her, even though she didn’t know he was being serious.
“It would, surely,” she managed to say quickly. “Then you must write down everything you see and tell me once you return. Because you will return, right?” There was urgency in her voice, and fear. She was afraid that he would leave for good, and settle down elsewhere.
He didn’t have the heart to continue his charade anymore. “Or maybe you can come with me,” he offered, touching her hand gently. “I’ve been meaning to ask you the whole time.”
“Then why didn’t you?” Her brow furrowed, clear surprise on her face, but also relief. “I would love to go on a trip to Italy with you,” she covered his hand with hers. “Of course, I would love to come. I’m delighted you asked me, Jesse. Even though you’re such a tease!”
He grinned at her. Seeing how her face lit up, she was eager as much as him to embark on this journey. “In my defense, I wanted to wait for spring to come,” he shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about traveling outside of London for months, but I needed to mentally prepare,” he sighed. “And I think I’m ready.”
Lucie grinned, and he knew she understood. He had spent the first weeks after he returned to the world of the living getting used to being around people again. “Then let’s get ready! Let’s buy these books and start packing,” she said excitedly, tapping her foot on the wooden floor.
“Don’t be in such a hurry,” Jesse warned, holding the books in one hand and Lucie’s hand in another. They started walking to the counter where they could pay. “We’ll need to ask your parents for permission.”
“Do we?” she sighed. “By the Angel, you’re right. Even though I’m almost eighteen and I could be considered an adult, I should still ask. I don’t want to repeat what happened when I left for Cornwall,” she shook her head slightly.
“I completely agree,” he nodded. “It’s not fair to them, Lucie. You’re still living with them, and you’re their only daughter. They still feel like they need to protect you from the world, even though you’re not little anymore. It is better if you tell them that you desire to go on this trip. Your mother already knows.”
She opened her mouth in disbelief, while Jesse was paying for the books. “Does she? What did she say? If mama gave us the green light, then papa might too. Or she might convince him!” her voice rose a little, and the old cashier coughed.
“Your mother seemed positive about it,” Jesse replied, thanking the cashier and turning to leave the shop. “I found an album with your parents' photographs in the library. They went on a trip to Paris the year before they got married.”
“Very sly of you, telling me this, Jesse,” Lucie giggled. “I might use it to my advance.”
Jesse shrugged, and nonchalantly said: “You didn’t hear it from me.”
After they got back to the Institute from the bookstore, Lucie couldn’t wait to ask her parents for permission. She didn’t even take her coat off. She ran directly to her father’s office on the first floor, Jesse in tow, trying to tell her that they should refresh first.
Not a chance. Lucie wanted to storm into Will’s office without knocking, but realized it wasn’t a good idea, nor would it work in her favor. She needed to calm down. She stopped abruptly before the door, and Jesse almost slammed into her.
“I believe you’re right, Jesse,” she sighed, starting to open her coat. “We should get changed first, and then we should come here. Or maybe I should come alone. I don’t know. My father could be with somebody right now, and I need to think –” she stopped mid sentence, because the door to Will’s office opened. “Papa.”
“Lulu, Jesse. What a surprise,” Will smiled at his daughter. “Did you need something, fy nghariad?” And she spilled the beans. She told him everything she wanted to do.
“Going on a trip to Italy,” Will mumbled behind his desk. “You and Jesse,” he added, wide-eyed. “All by yourselves,” he underlined the last word.
“Exactly so, papa,” Lucie tried to charm him with a smile and a sweet voice. It worked when she was a child, she wondered if it would still work. “Jesse expressed the desire to travel to Italy, and he wishes to go with me.”
“And you, naturally, wish to go with him,” he said, frowning. “I mean, I shouldn’t even wonder. Of course, you are.”
Lucie nodded. “I don’t find it weird, papa, to want to travel with the person I love,” she said, and her father sighed. “It could help my writing as well. I would get to see places I only ever saw in photographs. It’s an occasion I can’t miss!”
“It isn’t odd at all, on the contrary,” he tapped his fingers on the papers in front of him. “I was expecting you to ask me that, sooner or later. Perhaps after you and Jesse got engaged, though.”
She rolled her eyes, and moved closer to the desk. “Two people don’t need to be engaged to travel together,” she protested. “And everyone knows that we have an understanding. They won’t find it unlikely. It’s not like they have to know we went on a trip together, papa.”
Will massaged his temples, and he was about to reply, when Tessa entered the office with a smile. “Tea is ready,” she announced, and he instantly lit up, stood from his chair. Perhaps he needed to get a break. “We can talk about this in the drawing room,” she offered, and her husband couldn’t refuse her proposal.
They sat at their usual spots: Will and Tessa on the blue sofa by the fireplace, and Lucie and Jesse on the other blue sofa in front of them. They often sat together in that room after dinner, so much so that it turned into a routine. At times, they would engage in discussions about random topics. Other times, the two couples would be lost in their own world and talk among themselves. That afternoon, however, it felt as if the air was charged with tension.
“I know you’re trying to protect me, papa,” Lucie said to break the ice. “And I love you for it, but,” she sighed. “I think you should trust me and let me have this experience. And you should also trust Jesse, a person you also know is worthy of your trust.”
“I trust Jesse,” he confessed, his arms crossed on his stomach. “And you know I trust you, Lucie. But –” he sighed again. Will was fond of Jesse, and he treated him as if he were a member of the family already, and Lucie knew that. But she also knew that her father was also worried about her reputation. They were still unmarried. “Aren’t you afraid of people’s judgment?”
“Were you afraid when you took mam to Paris in 1879?” Lucie bounced back with a smirk, and her father looked defeated. “Look, papa. I understand you. I know that you don’t want me to – you don’t want me to end up like cousin Eugenia,” she said. “And I won’t. I love Jesse. Jesse loves me. He is the most respectful person I know and I trust him. And I trust myself. We — I promise that nothing will happen while we’re away from home,” she glanced away, embarrassed. “We will be on our best behavior. Or I will hit him with my handbag,” she said, and Jesse frowned at her. “I am able to defend myself.”
“There’s no need to hit anybody with anything,” Jesse intervened, his voice rising at the end. “I attest to everything Lucie said,” he told Will and Tessa. “But I understand your concern, and I’m willing to commit right now, if you need solid proof that I’m going to cherish and respect your daughter during this trip, as if my life depended on it.”
“What do you mean –” Lucie started to say, but he was already taking his family ring off and he was staring directly into her eyes. “Jesse, what –” she stopped when he took her hand and knelt in front of her.
“We don’t need any proof to trust you, Je –” Will began, but Tessa silenced him with a: “Don’t ruin the moment, Will!”
“Lucie,” he muttered kindly as he always did. “You know I love you, and I know you wanted to wait until your book is published to get engaged to me, but,” he giggled, “given the circumstances, might we pause that promise until we return?”
“Yes,” she said with excitement, “I say yes.” And so Jesse slid his family ring on her fourth finger. In their world, it meant that they were promised to one another. Lucie leaned him and she kissed him on the lips, uncaring of her parents watching. It was Jesse who broke away, and sat back down next to Lucie, holding her hand.
“You didn’t need to do that for us to believe your good intentions,” Will said. “I trust you. And I trust that you won’t let anything happen to Lucie and that nothing compromising will happen,” he coughed and glanced away, as if only thinking about that embarrassed him too. “between you and Lucie. Which means, separate bedrooms and always being around people until it’s time to retire to your rooms to sleep.”
Tessa patted her husband’s shoulder affectionately with a grin. “What he means is that you are free to go on this trip, my dear,” she told them.
“Thank you, papa,” Lucie bolted from the sofa to go hug her father and then her mother. “I love you, mam. I promise you won’t regret this choice.”
Will just nodded, and then the argument was settled, filling both Lucie and Jesse with joy.
The preparations started the following day. The first thing they needed to do was decide which cities they wanted to visit. Lucie wanted to see some medieval places to be inspired by the scenes in her book, and she didn’t know which cities were best.
“I remember you said you enjoyed the recount of Matthew’s voyage in Venice,” Jesse said. “Shouldn’t we go there first? It’s a peculiar place, I’m sure you’re going to love it.”
Lucie said yes. “I was also thinking about Venice,” she revealed, so they settled to go there first.
Will and Tessa said they could only be away one week, since this was their first trip solo. They wouldn’t have time to visit a lot of places. Jesse would’ve wanted to see Rome or Naples or go even more South to Sicily, but they would need more days to visit all of those cities.
“We’re going to visit after we’re married,” Lucie promised, and she vowed to keep that promise. Once they were married, there would be no one to stop them from going whenever they wanted, and to make Jesse's travel wishes and her own come true. “I say this time, since we don’t have much time, we should just go to another city in the North.”
“Milan?” Jesse offered. “Wait, I think I know a more meaningful option,” and Lucie couldn’t agree more.
March, 1905: Venice
They decided to leave on the first day of March. It took them a few weeks to prepare everything they needed for the trip, but it was better to take more time to organize should something unexpected happen during their travels.
“Did you put everything you need in your trunk, Lucie?” Will asked. He and Tessa wanted to be present when they would leave.
Lucie huffed, but she knew her father meant well. “Yes, papa. How many times do you have to ask?”
“As many times as I please,” Will frowned. “Here, take this,” he offered a red velvet pouch to his daughter, who looked at him quizzically.
“What’s this?”
“Money, dear,” Tessa said with a grin. “A gift from us to you both. We thought it could be useful, since you may want to buy souvenirs and the like. Spend it however you see fit,” she glanced at Jesse too.
“You shouldn’t have,” he said. “But I’m thankful. We’ll use them wisely.”
Luck was on their side, because Magnus was in town and paid a visit to Lucie’s parents. “Portal is ready,” he announced proudly. “This will take you to the Milan Institute. I’m afraid Venice doesn’t have one. Even so, I could’ve opened one in the city, but you said you wanted the experience of taking the train to take you there, I guess,” he shrugged.
“Don’t worry, Magnus, you were already kind enough to accept this favor,” Tessa told him. “They can manage from there, I’m sure.”
“Or I could come –” Will started, but Magnus rolled his eyes at him.
“William, you know you can’t,” he interrupted. “You have to help me here, that’s why I came. Word’s on the street that the king is ill, and people are in turmoil,” he stopped, seeing that Will was frowning. “Anyways, I’ll tell you all about it in your office, but now, let’s see these young lovebirds cross the portal. They have to catch a train.”
Will repeated three times that when they were on their way to return, they had to send them a fire message so Magnus would know when to open a portal in the Milan Institute to take them back to London. (Magnus seemed very bored but he was going to comply anyway.)
Lucie and Jesse waved them goodbye, and went through the portal. They found themselves in the aisle of a Gothic building that resembled the London Institute a lot. The head of the Milan Institute, an old woman named Giulia Bianchi, was waiting for them. She knew they would come because Will had fire-messaged her.
The woman directed the couple to the station where they would find a train that would take them closer to Venice. It was Jesse who made the wish to take a train, because he had never been on one. Lucie hadn’t minded, of course. She loved traveling by train and she wanted to get the mundane experience of getting to their first destination as if she and Jesse were just an ordinary couple in love who was doing the Grand Tour – or at least a piece of it.
She found herself stealing glances at the Blackthorn family ring on her left hand as they sat in the train. She knew that it wasn’t a proper engagement and that it was just temporary, but the thought still made her feel fuzzy and warm inside. Jesse caught her once, and he offered her a genuine smile, before taking her hand in his. He seemed quite fine to her during the ride in the train, but somehow, she was a little worried about him. They had barely been out of London during the year he spent at the London Institute. And if they went somewhere, it was always through a portal and for not more than a few hours. This time, however, they will be away for a week…
Jesse confessed to her he had had a hard time adjusting to being around people during the first months he came back to life. She would make sure to look after him and be there for him, in case he would need help. She really wanted him to enjoy this trip, because he deserved it.
After four hours, they finally reached their destination. Since Venice was built on over one hundred islands, there were a series of bridges that lead to the various sides of the city, and there were some places that can only be reached through little ferries or with gondole. Venice didn’t have an Institute, otherwise they would have stayed there. Even if it did, Jesse had also asked to have the mundane experience of booking rooms in an inn as if he were a casual tourist. Just for the first city, because they would find accommodation in the Institute of the second destination.
They couldn’t stay more than two days. After searching in the Baedeker, they decided that it was ideal that they stayed near the historical center, in a small city overseeing the isle of Venice called Mestre. The first thing they had to do was look for a place to stay the night, but it hadn’t been an easy task. They had already looked for a room in three inns out of the seven the guide cited, but there weren’t any available.
“Buonasera, how can I help you?” a woman behind the counter cheered with a welcoming smile in heavily accented Italian mixed with English. This was the fourth or sixth inn. Lucie had lost count by that point.
“We would like two rooms, if it’s possible,” Jesse told her, speaking in Italian. “We’ll be staying two days.”
“I’m desolate, sir, but unfortunately, we only have one double left,” she explained. “It’s the Carnevale season, and a lot of people come here to celebrate. You’re lucky we even have a spare room!” she shrugged. “And, uhm, aren’t you two married?” she chanced, pointing at Lucie’s left hand. Right. She had his ring on her fourth finger.
He shook her head and looked at Lucie. “She has one room left because it’s Carnival,” he sighed. The woman replied in Italian so he translated for Lucie. “What should we do? Should we look elsewhere? There’s still one place on the Baedeker.”
She sighed. “We could try, but if it’s the high season, what luck do we have to find a room somewhere else? We should take it. It’s our last chance. Imagine if, while we go to the last place on the guide, someone comes and gets this room. Then,” she raised her eyebrows, “we would have to sleep in the streets like two beggars. It would be quite the experience, but –”
“But your father –” she put a finger on his mouth.
“I’m aware of what my father said,” she sighed. “But he isn’t here, is he? And it’s not like we haven’t lounged on a bed together in the past,” she put a hand on her hip and shrugged. “He will never know, Jesse. And we will just sleep, we just need a place to sleep,” she looked him in the eyes, and touched his arm. “It’s late, and we are both tired. I think we should take it.”
“You’re very good at convincing,” he smiled at her, even though Lucie could feel that he wasn’t completely sold. “Alright, let’s get this room.”
Lucie was amused because she didn’t know he had been learning Italian. She told him when they retreated to their room, after eating chicken broth and some vegetables in the kitchen of the inn. Jesse replied that the language fascinated him, so, in the prospect of coming to visit the country one day, he learned the essential phrases.
“I am no expert in Italian language, but you sounded very competent,” she complimented him, and he couldn’t help but smile, as they both set on the task of arranging their valises.
Lucie opened hers. Her hairbrush and pins and other hair accessories were in the top box, in a beauty case that she had ever since she was little. She remembered taking this to Cornwall as well, more than one year prior. The thought made her sigh. How different things had been back then. How much things had changed ever since then.
She found her night attire next, and her mouth gaped open. “Oh,” she said without thinking.
“What are you oh-ing about?” Jesse wondered. She saw that he had also gathered his night attire and toothbrush in his arms.
Lucie bit her lip and sighed. “I have to change into my nightgown,” she said, showing him the white material and the light blue robe that went over it. He frowned, but before he could speak, she continued. “You’ve seen me countless times in my night clothes,” she began, “it isn’t an issue for me to show myself in such a state of undress, and it never has been, because –” she tensed, pacing the room as she spoke. “I trust you. I love you. And soon, someday, this will be our routine, part of our daily exchange. Part of our lives as a married couple. But we’re not a married couple yet,” she glanced at the ring on her hand, “and even if I’m comfortable being like this around you, I wondered if you,” she sighed, avoiding his stare for a moment, “you may be uncomfortable seeing me like this.” She took one last breath. “So, I think it would be better if I sleep in my clothes and ditch the night attire.”
Jesse’s eyes widened, and he put his clothes on the bed. “You are thoughtful,” he walked closer to her. She had stopped in the middle of the room, and he took her ringed hand in his. It was clammy, but he didn’t seem to care. “And this, among many reasons, is why I’m in love with you, Lucie Herondale,” he stroked her fingers with his thumb. “But you said it yourself. I’ve seen you countless times before you went to bed, that it has already become part of our daily routine. To me, this is ordinary like breathing. A comfort that not many people have the luxury to have. What I wish to see for the rest of my days,” the corners of his mouth went up.
Lucie took a long sigh and she sat down on the bed with him, their hold on each other’s hand firm. “I told you to ignore my father’s words when the woman told us there was only one room available,” she said, a little flustered. “And here I am, being bothered by them!,” she chuckled, glancing at Jesse, who offered an understanding smile. “We’ve never been alone for so long. We barely have time to be alone in London.”
“What are you afraid of, Lucie?” he wondered, and she shook her head. “Perhaps, of losing control because we are alone? That being in the same bed and unsupervised will prompt either of us to do things before their time?” He didn’t say which things but she understood what he meant. That they would kiss, and things may escalate, and they wouldn’t be able to stop. She wouldn’t be able to stop.
“Maybe,” she admitted, looking at their intertwined hands.
“You have so little faith in yourself,” he confessed. “You’ve made it so far, and I’m confident that you can make it through this trip,” he kissed her hand.
“I don’t even know why I’m thinking this,” she covered her forehead with her other hand.
“Because you’re human, and you’re very much in love with the likes of me,” he touched her nose with his finger.
“Thank you, Jesse,” her face flushed every time he mentioned that they loved each other.
Eventually, Lucie convinced herself and she wore her night attire. The bed in the room was narrow, but Jesse tried to give her all the space she needed. The following morning, she opened her eyes to a sleeping Jesse. He was facing her. Close enough, but none of his limbs touched any of hers. She marveled at the beauty of him. His black lashes fan out against his cheeks created a stark contrast with his pale complexion, and he looked like a sleeping hero, waiting for his princess to wake him up.
His eyes fluttered open after a few minutes, and he stared back at her, a grin quickly forming on his lips. “You should have woken me up. We have only today and tomorrow to explore the city.”
“You were sleeping so peacefully, it would’ve been a pity,” she muttered. “We can make it, don’t you worry,” she said. “I’ll be going to wash up first,” she announced, grabbing the light blue nightgown from the chair nearby and covering herself. He turned to follow her as she walked in front of the bed, and she beamed at him.
Like the woman in the inn had informed them the evening before, Carnival celebrations were in full swing in the city. There were already a lot of masked people while in Mestre, but when they reached the historical center of Venice, groups tripled in number and it was hard to walk in the crowd without risking losing each other. They held each other’s hand firmly as they walked, and Lucie tried to avoid crowded places at all costs, even though it was barely impossible, given the partygoers in Carnival masks making it everyone’s business they wanted to celebrate.
The beauty of the city stunned them. They visited St. Mark’s basilica and San Marco’s square, surprised at how big and massive it was. “We don’t have a place like this in London, I think,” Lucie said, taking in the grandiose cathedral. “I mean the square, not the cathedral. The Institute is bigger than this.”
They were enamored with the gothic and rococo style of the buildings in the area, like the Doge’s Palace. “I imagine it’s really pretty inside,” Lucie commented. “We can visit inside,” Jesse told her. They spent the next two hours roaming inside the rooms, where there were several statues and paintings. They also looked from the infamous Bridge of Sighs, which connected the Palace with the prison. “They say it’s called like this because this was the last view of the canal before the prisoners were taken into custody,” Jesse said, “it was Lord Byron who bequeathed the name to England.” Lucie, obviously, took notes.
There were several other things they saw. They returned to the inn late, ate whatever was left for dinner, and went to sleep. The following would be their last day in Venice, and they decided to visit some other popular places like the Rialto Bridge, which they couldn’t see properly the day before because of the sea of people. That day, they were relieved to see there were less people in that area. Maybe the partygoers had moved somewhere else. (Someone told them that Carnival had ended the day before – if they only had known!). They enjoyed their view undisturbed, and then set out to buy some traditional masks for themselves and their friends and family.
The last thing they did before returning to the inn was going on a ride in a gondola. Lucie had been on ships before, but never on something like this. Jesse wrapped his arm behind her shoulders when they sat in the velvet seats of the small, odd, boat, and she let her head rest on his shoulder. The sun was setting, and it made everything even more romantic. She glanced up at him at some point, and he bent his head so he could kiss her.
“I thought you didn’t like to kiss in public,” she teased him.
“I wanted to be scandalous,” he smirked, repeating what she told him once. She rolled her eyes at him. “And we’re not in public, Lucie,” he raised an eyebrow. “Our only audience is the gondoliere, and the buildings flanking the Canal, but I don’t think they care that much. I think he lost count of the people kissing during the boat rides.”
“If you say so,” her eyes were bright, and her heart pounded fast in her chest. “Then he wouldn’t mind if we kissed again, would he?”
Jesse shrugged, but he was smirking. That was all it took for Lucie to cradle his face in her hands and kiss him more vehemently than he did.
When they broke apart, the man was blabbering something Lucie couldn’t understand. “Ah, queste coppie di sposini novelli pensano solo a baciarsi e non si godono il panorama!” he said, and Jesse giggled.
The last day went well, in Lucie’s standards. She often glanced at Jesse when they were in the streets, squeezing his hand every now and then to make sure he knew she was there and everything was okay. He seemed like he was enjoying his stay, but you never knew with him. He tried his best not to make her worry, but she was still worried about him, and she had been ever since they were on the train. He managed well the day before, but they avoided all the crowded spaces. Today, the frenzy was less, but still.
They repeated the same routines of the day before. Lucie went to wash first, changed into her nightgown, and then it was Jesse’s turn. This time, it was easier to fall asleep. They had had a long and tiring day, and when Lucie put her cheek on the stiff pillow, she was out in less than five minutes. The last image she remembered seeing was Jesse’s angular face staring right back at her from his pillow, his own eyes threatening to close.
Sleep, however, didn’t last long. Lucie woke up with a start, hearing muffled cries. She opened her eyes to the dark room, and tried to understand the source. It could’ve been a thief, it could’ve – It wasn’t. Lucie realized that it was Jesse mumbling something she couldn’t understand by her side. She took her witchlight to see better. He was holding his throat and was breathing heavily. She noticed that his forehead was wet with sweat, along with his collarbone.
“Jesse,” she called him softly, stroking his cheek, trying not to panic. “Jesse, I’m here. Jesse.” He heard her. He gaped his mouth open and gazed up at her, the witchlight still in her hand, blinding him. She moved it away so she could see him but he wouldn’t be bothered by the light. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she kept caressing his cheek and forehead.
“I don’t know what –” he began, but couldn’t continue, his voice broken. “I don’t know.”
She took his hand and helped him lie down, then placed her cheek on his chest, trying to calm him down. “Your heart is loud, Jesse,” she muttered with care after a few seconds. He also felt himself trembling, but she didn’t say it.
He hesitated, chuckling softly in the darkness. “I don’t know how to slow it down.”
“You shouldn’t,” she said, and tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle herself, “I mean that, it will slow down by itself once you feel safe again. Just – breathe,” she tightened the hold on his hand. “I’m here.”
He nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. A few beats passed. He took a deep sigh and then another, and then – “I don’t know what’s gotten over me,” he said apologetically. “I –” he sighed, “woke up and felt my heart in my throat. I think it was a nightmare.”
“Must have been this new experience,” she pondered. “Traveling. Being far from home for the first time, not sleeping in your bed, eating food you’ve never tasted,” she began. “Being alone with me for the first time. It all came up while you were unconscious.”
“You’re probably right,” he was playing with a lock of her hair to distract himself. “I didn’t think I’d be homesick, but I’ve never been outside of London, how could I know?” he asked rhetorically, more to himself than to her. “This is the main reason I waited months before taking up the courage to leave,” he added. “I still feared it could happen, but I would’ve wanted it to do with you anyway.”
“You couldn’t know,” she told him. “And I’m proud of you for still wanting to follow through with the trip, even though you were afraid. I’m proud of you, Jesse,” she patted his chest.
He decided he would be proud of himself too, then. For making it there. For crossing the continent to get to another country he could only dream of visiting through the pages of old books he found in his grandfather’s library. I’m proud of you, he told himself in his head. For making it this far.
He bent down to kiss Lucie’s head. “Thank you, my love,” he whispered into her hair, and she rubbed her cheek against his chest. “I believe we should sleep. There’s a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Can we stay like this?” she asked tentatively. “In case, you know, have another nightmare?”
Jesse managed a smile in the dark. He tried so hard to suppress his fears, but they caught up with him. And now, he felt like he needed support, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. I’m proud of you.
“Just for tonight,” he conceded, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s sleep like this just for tonight.”
Lucie nodded, and covered them with the heavy sheets again. She tightened her hold on Jesse’s frame as if she was holding on for dear life. And that night, they both had a peaceful sleep.
March 1905: Verona
On the third day, they left the inn. Lucie asked Jesse if he wanted to go back to London, considering what happened the night before, but he was firm that he wanted to continue. They still had roughly three days left before Magnus would open a portal in Milan to take them back to London, and he wanted to make the best of each.
They said goodbye to Venice, and vowed to go back there in the future. They needed to get on another train to reach their last destination: Verona. The choice of Verona came to Jesse when they were deciding where to go. He knew it was a popular tourist destination, mostly because Shakespeare made it famous.
“You still haven’t told me why you wanted to go to Verona, Jesse,” Lucie said when they were on the train. “Not that you need a reason to travel, that is.”
“Romeo and Juliet is set in Verona,” Jesse told Lucie, who nodded. Of course, she knew. She grew up with a family obsessed with literature, and the main theme of discussion in the drawing room was often literature. “It has a – a sentimental meaning to me.”
Lucie had frowned, curiosity taking over her. “Oh, yes,” she said, remembering why Jesse had thought about that. “You likened our families and ourselves to the tragedy while we were getting to know each other,” she told him. “Said it would be a tragedy if we loved each other.”
He crossed his arm on his chest in protest. “I did, I won’t say I didn’t,” he tilted his head to better look at her. “But it was all I knew back then. When we met the first time and even the second, I was truly convinced that our families despised each other. And out of loyalty to the Blackthorn family, I also needed to despise the Herondales. That was what my mother convinced me to think all those years. ”
She patted his forearm. “And our story turned just like Romeo and Juliet in the end, except we survived,” she smiled at him, and he chuckled.
The Verona Institute was situated in front of the Scaligeri Tombs, a group of gothic monuments where Juliet staged her death in the tragedy. “That’s the first thing we’re going to visit,” Lucie announced, and Jesse nodded eagerly.
The head of the Verona Institute was a man around her father’s age named Riccardo Ferrari. “Welcome in fair Verona,” he shook their hands. “I reckon you are the Blackthorns from London, am I right? We were waiting for you. We’ll prepare your room,” he said in Italian. “Francesca!” he called the maid, presumably. “You can wait in the drawing room, in the meantime,” he added, and then he disappeared. So much for welcoming them.
They sat by the fire, and Lucie frowned at Jesse because she didn’t understand anything of what Riccardo had just said. “He welcomed us in Verona and said they’ll prepare our room.”
“Our room?” she inquired, eyebrows raised. “But we’re not –” recognition dawned on her. “He also thinks we are married, doesn’t he?”
“I think he does,” Jesse said with an apologetic smile. “We fire-messaged him by signing Jesse and Lucie Blackthorn. And I’m sure he saw the ring on your hand.”
“By the Angel, you’re right,” Lucie gasped. “Do you think we should tell him?”
“Do you?” he wondered, but she shook her head. “Then it will be our secret,” he winked at her, and she blushed.
Riccardo Ferrari surely showed them to their room an hour or so after, but not before offering them a cup of hot tea. They refreshed themselves – they made quite the journey from Venice, and then decided it was time to visit Verona’s important landmarks. The Shakespearean ones, obviously.
Verona was completely different from Venice. Like the former, it had several gothic buildings. But where Venice was crowded, Verona had the normal amount of people one would expect from a town that wasn’t as big as London. This was a relief for Lucie, and she was sure it was a relief for Jesse as well. She clutched on his arm while they started roaming around the city, laughing about ordinary things, like an ordinary couple.
They visited Juliet’s house first. The building was not too far from the Institute, in a street named Via Capello. The famous balcony where the lovers saw each other at night was here. “The Baedeker says that rubbing Giuletta’s statue outside of her house brings good luck,” Jesse commented before they entered the two story house. The statue was near the entrance.
“Then we should do it,” Lucie shrugged. “What do we have to lose?” And they did it. There was no certainty that this couple really existed, but they were legendary anyway.
There was nobody but them visiting, so Lucie wanted to lean out of the balcony and pretend she was the tragic heroine. She asked Jesse to pretend to be Romeo. “Pretend you’ve just fallen for me,” she encouraged him. “That I’m the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen and my eyes remind you of bright stars that lighten up your day.”
Jesse shook his head at Lucie’s suggestion and smirked. “Why pretend,” he glanced up at her on the balcony – she wasn’t that distant – “when you know, as well as I, that I love you? You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he almost shouted. “And you sure do light up my day and my night – you’ve lightened up my whole life, and my love burns for you!”
Lucie blushed from the balcony, and managed a shy grin. Those weren’t the original lines, but she melted anyway. Next to Jesse, a group of people – presumably tourists – clapped their hands. She didn’t think they would have an audience, and decided it was time to leave.
They continued their walk to Romeo’s house, but unfortunately, the building was not open for visitors. They could only admire the medieval house from outside. Lucie had collected a lot of information already, but she was hungry, and Jesse suggested they go to the Scaligeri Tombs, the place where Juliet staged her death. They went back to the institute to eat. Riccardo Ferrari prepared a feast for them, which they enjoyed because they were both tired and starving.
Come night, they said goodnight to Riccardo and his family and retreated to their room. The bed of the Institute was more comfortable than the one of the inn, and they didn’t have trouble falling asleep. Even so, every once in a while Lucie woke up because she wanted to make sure that Jesse was fine and he wasn’t having another nightmare. She was secretly happy to share the bed with him again, because she could look after him. She knew that, had they slept in separate rooms, she wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep worrying about him. She was grateful that Jesse didn’t seem to be haunted by his dreams for the whole night.
Their second day in Verona started with a generous breakfast. Riccardo was the talkative type, but Lucie didn’t know Italian nor did he know much English, so they couldn’t interact much. He talked to Jesse a lot, and he made them lose a lot of time, but they thought it would be rude to interrupt him and say time was running out. It was duty who brought the man to his office and freed them to go about the town.
They tried to see everything worth seeing in the hours they had left. Lucie itched to see the real tomb where Juliet’s remains were, and Shakespeare’s bust. Jesse wanted to see the place where Tybalt, Juliet’s cousin, killed Romeo’s best friend Mercutio. After they had enough, they went to eat local food in a tavern in the last neighborhood they had visited instead of going back to Riccardo. “It’s our last day here, we should breathe the air of Verona as much as we can,” Lucie confessed, and Jesse agreed.
“I can’t believe we have to go back tomorrow,” she added with a tinge of sadness in her voice, after their bellies were full.
“It didn’t last long and we had to rush, but I wouldn’t change it for the world,” Jesse said. They were walking in a street where a lot of the houses had flowers outside their windows. “I’m the type of person who prefers quality over quantity.”
“Quantity doesn’t guarantee quality, yes,” she halted mid-step, and Jesse observed her with a questioning look. “I have an idea. Come,” she prodded, and took his hand to drag him close to a short wall encased in Roman columns that united in archways covered by wildflowers. “Sit here,” she told him, and Jesse did as he was told with a puzzled expression. He was even taller than her after he sat on the wall. “Can you put your hand on my hips?”
“What do you want to do?” he wondered, an eyebrow raised. He put his hands where he would hold her if they were dancing at a party. Or tried to. He was too tall.
“I’m recreating the balcony scene,” she told him excitedly. “I mean, we are recreating the balcony scene.”
“But this is not a balcony,” he said, looking behind him. “It’s the wall that delimitates a park. And I thought we already acted that one this morning for the Verona crowd to see?”
Lucie blushed at the memory. “The scene we did this morning was the lovers professing their love to each other,” she clucked her tongue disapprovingly, to which he snorted. “Use your imagination, Jesse,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re Romeo and I’m Juliet. We’ve just spent our last night together, and it’s morning. You have to leave, otherwise –” she pretended to be scared. “My parents will find you in my room and they will kill you. And I won’t just lose my lover, but my reputation will be tainted forever. I’ll be kicked to the streets.”
“So you want me to kiss you goodbye or jump from this impromptu balcony?”
“Whichever you want first,” she sighed. “Better the kissing before the jump,” she decided.
He smirked but rolled his eyes at her antics. “I can’t kiss you,” he admitted. “You can’t reach me if I’m sitting on this wall, unless –” he stopped, and got off the fake balcony. Lucie started protesting, but when she realized what Jesse was doing, she shut up. He grabbed her by the hips and helped her up on the wall where he’d just descended.
“Now I’m Romeo and you’re Juliet,” she said, surprised to be able to look him in the eyes directly from that height. “My dear Juliet, let lips do what hands do,” she cleared her throat, trying to imitate a masculine voice, and touched Jesse’s face sweetly. She knew she didn’t say the right line, but she couldn’t remember it well.
He went along with her plan. “Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.”
“Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take,” Lucie muttered gruffly, and she bent down to find Jesse’s warm lips. “Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged,” she smiled against his lips, her hands on his shoulders.
“Give me my sin again,” Jesse urged, saying Romeo’s line in her place. He cradled Lucie’s face in his hands to give her another, more intense kiss.
“You kiss by th' book.” Lucie closed with Juliet’s parting line, and bent down to kiss him a third time. Luckily, there was no Nurse to interrupt them.
“Farewell, farewell. One kiss and I’ll descend,” Jesse whispered softly, his face still inches from his girlfriend’s. He dove on her lips again with hunger.
“I thought that was my line,” Lucie argued when they separated. He helped her down the wall and she dusted the back of her dress with her hands. “I was Romeo.”
“A Romeo who mixed up the first kiss scene with his lover, with the scene before he had to leave for exile,” Jesse offered a big grin. “It’s understandable. I also would rather be with my lover forever than be forever parted from her.”
There was melancholy in his voice. He was probably remembering another time, the time when he used to be a ghost, Lucie realized. A time where, like the two lovers in Verona, they could only see each other at night. Romeo and Juliet were star-crossed lovers because of their families. Lucie and Jesse used to be star-crossed because he was a ghost and she a living girl. They belonged to worlds that intervowed together and yet, whose threads never truly met.
“You are with your lover,” Lucie said, holding his hand. They started walking back to the Institute. It was getting late, and the streets were deserted. “And your lover will never let anybody nor anything tear us apart,” she stopped and looked him in the eyes. “Only death do us part,” she vowed solemnly.
“Sounds like a threat,” Jesse joked, and Lucie rolled her eyes and started walking again.
“You know, you can back out of this relationship before we’re officially engaged, Jesse,” she groaned, while he was chuckling. “What are you laughing about?”
“My lover,” he asserted giovally. “My beautiful lover I intend to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”
Lucie gaped her mouth open in awe. It wasn’t lost on her that he had just quoted the vows mundanes used during their marriage ceremonies. “Sounds like a threat,” she teased him cheekily, and they both chuckled as they walked back to the Institute.
By noon, they arrived at the Milan Institute. Riccardo Ferrari wished them goodbye and told them to greet Will and Tessa, whom he hardly knew but he believed to be nice people. He also added a line that Lucie didn’t understand and that Jesse pretended not to understand – but he completely understood – which was: “auguri e figli maschi!”
They had already sent a fire message to Will, and he told them Magnus would arrive in London around three p.m. to open the portal. This gave them the chance to do a quick tour of Milan in the two hours they had. But Magnus, as usual, didn’t follow a tight schedule, and not even an hour passed from Will’s fire message, that the portal had already been opened before them and they had to give up on their plans. They thanked Giulia Bianchi for letting them wait in the Institute and went through the portal, bidding Italy goodbye.
Will and Tessa – but Lucie’s father, especially – wanted to know everything that happened in Italy. Will was excited to know about it all the evening they were back, but Tessa reminded her husband that even though they had come through a portal, Lucie and Jesse went on a journey and needed to rest. So they delayed their tales of travel to the next day.
Jesse described how Venice surprised him and how colorful it was because of the people dressed for Carnival. He told Will he would have liked the Bridge of Sighs because it was also linked to Shakespeare, and Will said that he would definitely take Tessa there someday. However, she wasn’t of the same idea. Tessa didn’t know how to swim and she didn’t like to go close to water, so Will resorted to going somewhere else, then, like Verona.
Lucie said that she had enjoyed both cities, but, unlike her mother, she would’ve liked to jump into the Venetian water to swim, but she had been equally happy just riding in a gondola.
They told them about Verona and how exciting it was to visit Romeo and Juliet’s homes and the streets where blood was shed between their families, to which Tessa seemed very enthusiastic to hear about. They gave them the masks they bought in Venice and other souvenirs from Verona as well as Riccardo Ferrari’s greetings and wishes to see them sooner or later in Verona.
They told them everything they could have possibly shared, and kept most of their experiences to themselves. There was so much one couldn’t share with their parents.
“I know that I told my parents I enjoyed the gondola ride,” Lucie declared merrily, “but you know what I enjoyed the most? How it ended.”
Jesse, who was sitting next to her on their sofa in the drawing room, frowned. “Then you lied to them,” he stated, “if you liked when the experience was over?”
“No, no,” she said quickly. “I meant that I liked the way it ended,” she fixed her gaze on him. “I meant the kiss part, Jesse. That was one of the most romantic things I’ve ever experienced.”
He gave her an enigmatic smile. “More romantic than the reenactment of two important scenes from Romeo and Juliet in fair Verona?” he questioned. “Because those, if you ask me, are my most favorite moments from the trip.”
She gazed up at him lovingly. “Of course I also adored those romantic moments,” she stroked his arm, the Blackthorn ring still there on her finger. I loved every kiss with you. “But there was this one moment that I will cherish in my heart, while building my future.”
“What is that?”
“When we said our vows in the deserted street,” Lucie confessed coyly. “I know they aren’t our vows, shadowhunter vows, I mean, but –” she bit her lip. “That was a meaningful moment to me. It made me think about how far we’ve come. How far we still have to go,” she gesticulated with her hands. “How much we’ve promised to achieve before we will say those vows in front of the people who also love us. How much we don’t need those vows to know that you and I – nothing will ever part us, not even death.” She took the Blackthorn ring off her fourth finger and took Jesse’s hand to gently put it back on the fourth finger of his left hand. The finger where the vein connecting to the heart was. “I suppose this is yours.”
Jesse glanced at the ring, then at Lucie, and managed a grin. “One day this is going to be yours,” he simply said, caressing her hand. The hand where his ring had just been. “Until that day, I’m also grateful for what us – you and I as single people and as a couple – have achieved. You gave me back my life, Lucie. But you are also my life. You gave me something I never thought possible to get back,” he kissed her hand. “There is still room to grow. Still time to learn. Still time to –” he licked his lips, looking for the right word.
“Time to kiss?” Lucie proposed cheerfully.
“Why do you have to –” he rolled his eyes. “Decidedly, there is never going to be enough time for kissing,” he kissed her forehead for emphasis. “Thank you for coming on this trip with me, Lucie. I don’t think I can thank you enough for that.”
“And you don’t have to,” she smiled. “Haven’t I told you? I enjoyed myself a great deal,” she yawned.
“Someone needs to sleep,” he guessed. “You haven’t slept much these last three days.”
Lucie’s mouth went slack. “How did you know? And, Jesse, are you –” she twisted the hem of her sleeve nervously. “Are you okay?”
He knew why she asked. “I enjoyed myself considerably, but I can’t wait to sleep in my bed tonight,” he also yawned. “Maybe it’s better if we retire to our rooms now.”
“Can we stay five minutes more?” she pleaded, and he nodded.
“Just five,” he conceded, yawning too.
They drifted off to sleep on the sofa as the flickers of the flames in the hearth finished burning the remains of wood. It was Tessa who found them. They were peacefully resting there, Lucie’s head on Jesse’s shoulder and his head bent on her daughter’s hair. She found a thick blanket and gently placed it on the legs of the tired couple with a content smile. She turned off the candles and lamps, and went to sleep.
I know, I know, this one shot was quite long. But I couldn't stop myself while writing it, and I hope you made it here and you enjoyed it.
Translation of the two sentences in Italian: - The one by the gondoliere: "“Ah, queste coppie di sposini novelli pensano solo a baciarsi e non si godono il panorama!” "Ah, these newlyweds only think about kissing and never enjoy the view!" - The one by Riccardo Ferrari: "Auguri e figli maschi!" "Well wishes and may you have boys!" This is more of a Southern Italy saying (from where I'm from) that people usually tell to couples when they get married. They wish the couple happiness but also that their first kid is a boy. This is because the boy could carry on the name of the family, so I thought that since Riccardo thought Lucie and Jesse were a couple of newlyweds, he would wish them happiness in a very Italian way that was common at the time. Some facts about the things I said in my fic: - There is a real Carnival celebration in Venice, during the week of Mardi Gras! And there are several exhibitions and a lot of people go there, so it's very crowded! - The Romeo and Juliet painting by Sir Frank Dicksee inspired the scene where Lucie and Jesse reenact RJ's kiss. That's how I pictured them :) - The lines from this scene are from Romeo and Juliet, Act 1, Scene 5. The title is from Scene 3, Act 4
#tsc#tsc fanfiction#tlh#lucie and jesse#lucie herondale#jesse blackthorn#will herondale#tessa gray#wessa#blackdale#ghostwriter#chain of thorns#chain of thorns spoilers#chain of iron#chain of gold#jesse and lucie#tweety.writes#tweety's celebration
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this is the samandy anon and omg i def would also love the during Stanford thoughts 😱
Ah okay hold up. So there’s this whole giant thing I typed out, this one’s highly specific to the best friends to lovers trope. But academic rivals to lovers is also a possibility but it doesn’t seem like either of them to be rivals.
But anyway for their majors:
I personally always have this headcanon that Sam was an arts major, specifically art history, or journalism, I also feel like he would dabble in moral philosophy. (I’m projecting).
Andy gives off computer science vibes (just trust me), or he’s like a super weird computer science major with a minor in Theatre. (I firmly believe arts majors and science majors are attracted to each other because they are attracted to the idea that the other person is studying something they don’t entirely understand for context) also Andy transferred to Stanford after his first year at community college (mad respect, that’s hard work)
I feel like they’d meet in an arts class, particularly English since of course English is a requirement. And Andy would fall first, he’d seeing him reading a book in the back of class and be intrigued. The book is like something on moral philosophy or a book about environmental law (since Ofc hes “prelaw” which means absolutely nothing btw)
So first:
Andy would introduce himself, I feel like he’d be super confident. And he’d ask what book Sam was reading, and then suggest they study for the next weekly quiz. Sam would agree and study in the library.
Or Andy would buy the book and randomly talk to Sam about it; Sam would be like “did you get the book I’m reading” and he’s find that really romantic. Or maybe he’s confused by his romantic feels cuz he’s like “omg I’m not straight?” That’s up to you. Maybe Andy would even annotate the book and gift it to Sam.
But Sam would start to fall for Andy, noticing how smart and cool he is. He’d go see Andy do improv, and he’d sit beside him in the English lecture.
And Sam would make excuses to hang with Andy in the library. Sam and Andy would have weekly coffee get togethers, Sam would memorize Andy’s order. Andy would wait outside sams lectures and surprise him with a muffin and a coffee, since he would know that Andy has back to back classes on Wednesday. Andy would do the same, but specifically on days when he had three hour classes.
Also Andy starts to fall in love with how grumpy Sam is after courses and always tries to make him feel better and Sam starts to realize that Andy brings out his inner child and he’s like “holy shit nobody has known me this well” and people always hear them laughing together outside lecture halls, and they’d be so comfortably silent.
But also they’d be pining secretly and watching each other date other people because they think both of them are either straight or not into each other. Cuz you know it’s hard to tell if someone’s gay or well…into you.
Andy would start to borrow sams Stanford hoodies, and then Andy’s friends would tease him and be like “you have a crush on him” and he’d deny it so much. Sams friends would do the same, especially Jess. They’d both deny it, just figuring out their sexualities. Or maybe they know they’re queer up to interpretation again.
Then one night after Sam and Andy finish watching a movie in sams dorm, Andy would lean on the door frame on his way out, and he’s looking at Sam like he’s supposed to kiss Sam goodbye, but he doesn’t. And as Andy’s walking out back to his dorm, he goes “oh.” And that’s when he realizes he likes Sam.
And andy confesses after he avoids Sam for a while. Andy avoids Sam cuz he thinks Sam doesn’t like him and Sam finds him in the courtyard and is like “what’s your problem man” and andy tells him “I like you! I’m avoiding you cuz you obviously don’t” then they kiss.
Anyways that’s all I have for now. There’s a million different samandy Stanford scenarios I could talk abt.
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4*Town Update!!!!
I just had to do my final character design of Jesse so that I can add some of the illustrations to the story. In this one, Jesse is a 28-year-old singer-songwriter who is currently studying in university for his art degree while also becoming a father to his two children with his wife, Daphne Brock. In this story, he struggles with being a member of 4*Town while also being a father at the same time which emphasises that having this celebrity lifestyle isn’t easy, but as it progresses, he learns to take it easy and to choose his own path in his life.
Now some extra things about Jesse:
He calls Tae Young his “little paintbrush” since they both share the same artistic traits.
His adopted father was an artist who inspired him to get his degree and to observe the world of art, before he died, he originally wanted to take Jesse to an art exhibition to help him research for his project.
He and Daphne met at a college library when he was looking for a book to read, they became friends since and then got married in 97, which led to two children entering the scene.
Jesse was originally a model for children's clothing on magazines in the late 80s and early 90s.
Sometimes, he can be very distant from 4*Town whenever there is a huge conflict (most specifically between Aaron Z and Robaire.)
When it comes to songwriting, he would normally start with a conversation with the group before writing the actual song based on their ideas.
Also, he nearly wrote all the songs in 4*Town discography.
During the "Breaking Free" Tour in Toronto, his wife and his two children went to see him perform however during Pandapocolyose, he escorted his whole family outside the stadium in order to keep them safe.
He and Robaire tend to talk to each other a bit more in the studio when it came to songwriting since they both have similar experiences that lead as inspirations behind some of the group's biggest hits!
#4town#4town aaron t#4town aaron z#4town jesse#4town robaire#4town taeyoung#disney#turning red#4*town#4town fanfic#wattpad#writeblr#creative writing#writing community#writers of tumblr#4town fanart#fanart#digital illustration#illustration#drawing#character design
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