#I say formal but this is basically how they always dress. but now with vests | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

raydioactivegeorg · 2 years

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sobbing apparently there's a text limit in posts??? and i hit it??? so this will be a two parts but @graciecreates @pa-pa-pa-pa-papageno

so i didn’t just see a midsummer nights dream, but also a contemporary piece called hush, and the tchaikovsky pas de deux. also before the performances there was a class going on and a person talking about what was going on in the class which was very funny to me, my friend and my sister because we’ve all done ballet for Years (i stopped over quarantine but they’re still dancing) so the person was talking like “so now as you can see they’re doing a grand allegro, and a cool thing is they don’t know the choreography they’re just watching the teacher and then the teacher lets them do it on the other side without help they just have to remember it” and my friend and sister and i all just Looked at each other because we had done like. that exact thing before (specifically i had been thinking “i stg this is exactly what we used to do with That One Teacher at the end of class and then my friend and sister both said “hey this is exactly like what we always do with That One Teacher lmao”) but after that the person narrating the class ig? told us some history about the particular version of a midsummer nights dream that we were about to see which was really really interesting like how the costumes were based off wildlife where we live which is super cool, and like how normally in a midsummer nights dream the wedding is at the end, but in this version they had it so like the wedding is at the beginning, with everyone in formal clothes and doing conga lines and shit which was so funnyhsdbksja and then they’re like “hey lets do a play about love or something” and the white sheet wedding tent lifts up and you’re in this magical forest with fairies and its soooo gorgeous. but more on that in a bit.

SO. hush. it was really really good!!!! like genuinely i wasn’t expecting to enjoy it as much as i did aksdhdvbksj the dancing was very cool and unfortunately i can only find videos of one of the dances from it on youtube but luckily it’s a video of one of my favorite dances. take a shot every time i say “dance” or “dances /jjjjjj anyway basically the plot of it is it’s about this family of circus performers? at night? six family members; a mom and dad, older sister and brother, and younger sister and brother. i am going to talk about the costumes now. i really liked how the ages were portrayed not just in how the dancers moved but also through the costuming? like the younger sister and brother were in a short-ish white dress and red hat, (the sister,) and shorts and a short sleeved shirt with suspenders and a white hat, (the brother,) and then the older sister’s dress was longer but still short sleeved and the older brother had longer pants on and a waistcoat/vest, and the mom had a long sleeved dress and her hair was in a bun with a red flower (as opposed to the little sister’s braids and the older sister’s half up/half down) and the dad had a three piece suit with a red tie. don’t ask how i remembered that much! my favorite dance was definitely the one set to flight of the bumblebee, which takes place after the parents have their romantic moment or whatever after the kids go to sleep. it starts with the little brother waking up, and chasing around an invisible bee until he is joined by his older brother and they dance for a bit until the little sister wakes up and catches the bee and eats it??? i think??????????? it was a bit unclear as the bee was invisible. anyway i highly enjoyed it.

moving on, the tchaikovsky pas de deux

choreographed by george balanchine, (dont even get me started talking about him though, his nutcracker is waaaaay overrated and like the whole thing changing clara to marie like no who are you what why. also with the drosselmeyer's nephew thing like why???? why did we need to have that be part??????????????????? anyway.) and composed by tchaikovsky (duh) the music is sooooooooooo good and so Very tchaikovsky like if you’ve even the slightest bit familiar with any of the nutcracker or swan lake or smth you’ll recognize it. i wasn’t familiar with this piece specifically, but the music for it was partially taken directly from swan lake which is cool, and the rest of the music has a Very swan lake vibe (emphasis on the violin soloist for when the girl is dancing, and lots more brass and horns for when the guy is jumping around n shit, etc) and also my friend really really loves it so she was hyping me up a whole bunch, specifically for the coda (the last few minutes where the two dancers come together again and do a bunch of crazy shit like. fish dives which are literally insane!!!) the dancers were really good and really skilled but it seemed like they were a bit off their game? like they didn’t rehearse this piece enough/didn’t rehearse it together a lot, they didn’t hit all the notes and although their technique was really good (specifically the girl’s arms during her solo <33) they weren’t together completely which was unfortunate (no hate to them ofc, they were fantastic in mnd)

OK FINALLY WHAT YOURE READING THIS FOR: A MIDSUMMER NIGHTS DREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

here’s the music btw it’s sooooo gorgeous

so starting with the plot. as i said at the beginning, they changed around some of the events, but other than that i think it’s the same? we begin in a modern-ish wedding, and then the wedding tent rises and we’re in the magical forest with fairies and hermia and lysander are here they’re so in love!!! Nothing could possibly go wrong!!!! except what’s this? puck and peaseblossom are here and they are going to Cause Problems On Purpose!!!!!!!!! also demetrius is being angsty and helena is in love with him despite his 0 interest in her, or seemingly anyone until hermia comes along. (he does however really want everyone to know There Is A Skull In His Hand,,, idk maybe he’s like. reverse headless like they’re trying to find the headless horseman’s head maybe he’s trying to find the rest of the skull’s body) meanwhile in the kingdom of the fairies king oberon and queen titania are arguing over who gets the changeling boy (what they’re going to do with him i’m not sure, it’s tradition to switch them out with a regular human child to Cause Chaos in the human world or smth so maybe it’s just whoever gets to pick what baby they switch him out with??? idk.) so king oberon calls on puck and he’s like “yo puck lets play a really funny and hilarious prank on the queen ok so i want you to go get cupid, right? cupid will cast a spell on titania so that when she wakes up she’ll fall in love with the first person she sees. who will that person be? i’m so glad you asked remember those waiters that wandered into the forest and you tormented? remember the one you turned into a donkey guy? he’ll be the one the queen falls in love with won’t that be so funny” and puck has nothing better to do so he’s like yeah sure so he goes and finds cupid (who btw was played by this little kid who was so adorable?????? like oh my gods and she was really fucking good too like she Knew what she was doing and her acting was super good) and we go to queen titania and her fairies and they’re dancing and it’s gorgeous and mesmerising and there’s a choir too???? there was a youth choir???? and they were singing and they were so good it was aksjgdfshasbj it was so good and absolutely haunting and all the dancers are so together adn in sync and it’s amazing and then titania goes to sleep and puck and cupid come in and put the spell on titania and make sure bottom (the donkey guy) is there when she wakes up and then she does wake up and falls in love with bottom and they do an amazing tango. ALSO puck has these little fairies who follow him around and they’re all butterflies except for the two dragonflies and they’re played by students at the company and one of the dragonflies was played by one of my mom’s former students which is neat. what happened after that um RIGHT!!! ok so we’re back with the love square? z? who knows,, anyway. puck and cupid decide to Fuck Shit Up for them as well because for fun!!!!! so they make lysander fall asleep, and then cast a spell so when he wakes up he’ll fall in love with whoever he first sees, and who is it htat he first sees? HELENA!

so now lysander is following helena around like please love me and helena is like no fuck off i love demetrius and demetrius is following hermia around like please love me and hermia is like no fuck off i love lysander!!!! and cupid and puck are like yes we did a good job here. bye. side note i absolutely loved this dance, it was organized chaos at its best and the acting was so good and the dancers were all so with the music and it was incredibly well rehearsed as well. i wish i could show you guys it because seriously it was so good (maybe i’ll find a video!! if i do i’ll send it if yall want) anyway oberon calls puck over and he’s like “hm ok so maybe we should not have done all this. maybe we went a bit too far,,,, let’s set everything back to normal and all that.” and puck again has nothing better to do so he’s like ugh ok fine so he and cupid go and fix everyone’s marriages /j they make titania not in love with donkey man bottom anymore and they make bottom not a donkey man, and then the little fairies come and bring the four humans over and cupid makes hermia and lysander back in love again and they make demetrius and helena in love and they all get married or smth. oberon and titania decide they both get the changeling boy (or something idk????) and they have a beautiful pas de deux and it was so pretty and gorgeous and i loved it. the end!

moving on to costumes. the little fairies all had butterfly/dragonfly wings which were apparently all hand painted which is so neat like akjgvejhkbaj and they also had little lights below the wings that lit up at one point and it was. fantastic like seriously. puck was a lightning bug i think? his costume was soooo slutty though i loved it so much. he had like the shortest shorts ever and stripey black and green top with a v e r y deep cut neckline <333 i love him. i touched on hermia, lysander, demetrius and helena’s costuming here as you know, gracie, but i just. i loved it a whole lot like hermia in a pink dress and lysander in a white tunic with a pink cape and they’re the happy couple, they’re compared to romeo and juliet and then there’s demetrius, in purple and black and helena in a purple dress, and they’re compared to hamlet and ophelia and ashjdg it’s just such a nice touch. oberon and titania also had wings but they only wore them a couple times bcause it’s very difficult to dance with large things on your back dnwhjnds. also during their last pas they did

^this

and my friend and i both looked at each other like !!!!!!!they did the thing!!!!! the thing from the program!!!!!!!

i think that’s all i have to say atm but i will reblog this again if i remember more (also listen to the music it’s seriously so good)

OK I REMMEEBR ANOTHER THING!!!! bottom's costume when he got turned into a donkey man was a hat with donnkey ears and a tail and it was so funny he did like. the michael jackson thing?? with the hat and started moonwalking asjdghjbhkjs ok that's all

#my infodumps

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bloodpacks-archive · 3 years

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french gardens | jumin han

warnings: sheeesh (horny) again. uhh, yeah. they uh- they do be kissin. do they fuck? no. do they think about it? uhhhh

word count: 2.3k

note: hi guys hannah keeps tempting me to write horny shit and now i’m here and idk what to do. one day i’ll go back to non-horny shit i promise i prooomise

Jumin learns to live in the rain.

It almost never rains during galas. Jumin can’t remember the last time he heard the pounding of water against windows while he spoke in the tongues of negotiations. It’s a distracting noise, but not an unpleasant one, either.

Similarly, she stands next to him, a deep wine silk dripping off of her shoulders, pooling around her waist, and barely brushing the floor. Her back is exposed to him, and he finds his hand resting there as they speak with the other executives.

Well, Jumin’s doing a great majority of the speaking. Although she’s been trying her best to learn French with him as her teacher—spending many a night with only a faint city glow to illuminate her, whispering basic sentences and phrases until her accent is just right—she’s not quite there yet. Though she loves to listen. She had told him that it was better practice anyway, that no matter how many times she wished to hear him say fille intelligente with every correct sentence, it would never be enough for her to truly know it without hearing conversation.

Now, she listens to him speak in easy French, the accent curling around his tongue and fitting easily into his mouth. It’s not the French he speaks with her, not punctuated by his breath against her ear nor is it there to accompany the quiet moonlight. It’s a sharper form of the language, dotted by formalities and practiced smiles.

He notices her gaze in the corner of his eye, the way she looks up at him with delicate eyes and the beginnings of a smile. He glances down to her when he finishes speaking, notices how she gingerly holds the glass of champagne in her fingers.

Perhaps I should buy her some champagne back home, he thinks, watching as she raises the sparkling flute to her lips, a brow raising as his eyes meet hers. He turns back to the men that stand in front of him, but rubs his thumb into the divot of her spine. He feels her relax into his moving touch, glances down again to see her twist her wrist so the champagne flute sits closer to herself and her shoulder.

The conversation lulls for a moment, and Jumin takes the opportunity to excuse both them. He shakes their hands with a grateful smile, and then guides her away. He brings her through the crowd, his hand still steady on her back, and moves them to the top floor—a quieter part, where only a few people gather around paintings and sculptures.

They stand in the corner, a Monet painting only a few feet away from them and next to windows that lead out to a covered balcony. The rain does not coat the windows here, but he can see stairs down to a garden—covered in sculptures and archways—becoming drenched with the light rain of the night.

“Any reason for getting me alone?” She asks, champagne having found home next to her lips. His gaze returns to her, his back almost against the wall and she stands in front of him, chin tilted upwards to meet his eyes.

“No,” He replies, “none at all.” Though one of his fingers dips under the silk of her dress, feeling the bare skin that rests beneath it. Both her brows raise this time, her head twisting quickly behind her to see if anyone’s there, and then returning to him. He drags his fingers back up from under the fabric, and then his eyes flick to the balcony. She follows his gaze, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Awfully large windows,” She states, her voice low.

“I’ll be polite,” He replies. Her eyes flit over his face for a moment, narrowing at him, but then she nods, moving out of the way so he can separate from the wall, and then reaching a hand out for him to take.

“Then lead the way, my dear.” His fingers wrap around her hand, feeling the chill that forever coats her skin, and before he drags her outside, he raises her hand to his lips. There, he presses his lips to her knuckles. She hums at the touch, and he can’t help the way his mouth curves into a smile. Without another word, he moves to bring her out onto the balcony, the windows behind them.

Outside, the air is cold. With the rain and the night have come a gentle breeze, and he immediately looks to her. Bumps raise across her shoulders, and she brings her free hand up to rub the opposite arm, hoping to rid herself of the chills that have risen against her skin.

“Here,” Jumin says, and then begins to take off his suit jacket, leaving himself in only his shirt and his vest. He wraps his arms around her to place the jacket around her shoulders, and she whispers her thanks to him, pulling it tighter across herself.

Then he watches as she leans her elbows onto the railing, reaching a hand out, palm facing towards the moon, to let the rain bounce against her skin. He moves closer to her and brings his hand underneath the jacket that now lays across her shoulders, his warm hand moving to curve around the chilled skin of her back.

She hums at his touch, her eyes fluttering shut and her head leaning towards him until he can feel the soft touch of her hair against his chest.

“It hasn’t rained back home in a while,” She muses. Her palm is covered in droplets now, and she tilts her hand to watch as they slide down her skin.

“No, no it hasn’t,” Jumin replies. He bows his head to her, enough that the scent of her shampoo—chamomile and lavender—flows up and into his nose, sending his head spinning and his hands begging to be closer to her. With the cover of his jacket on her shoulders, he dips his fingers beneath the silk once more, his thumb rubbing over the top of the wine colored dress while while the rest of his fingers curl around her waist, pressing into the skin there.

“What happened to polite?” She asks, but her voice is sweet and she turns her head to gaze at him, looking up at him with a smile painted onto her lips.

“Please, my love,” He begins, “You’re dreadfully intoxicating.” He leans down then, until their noses nearly touch and he can feel the way her breath escapes her.

“You’re too much,” She says, though laughter breaks free of her lungs until the sound meets his chest. But then she shakes her head, looking at the windows once more. “We should stop now, I’d rather not have anyone see us like this.”

Jumin nods at her, and goes to move away, but then his eyes drift to the staircase that lays behind her, spiraling down to the gardens below them.

“Then let’s explore the gardens,” He replies, leaning back in to her until his lips are near her ear before whispering, “You’ve missed the rain, have you not?”

“Dear, you’ll be soaked-“

“Do you fear the rain?” He asks. He pulls far enough away so he can see the way she pulls her lip between her teeth, can see the way she shakes her head at him without ever moving her eyes off of his. “Then neither do I.”

He pauses to allow her choice, to allow her to deny him of his proposal, but rather, she’s the one to grab his hand and pull him down the stairs, both of her hands grabbing one of his. He allows her to take him, allows her to float down the stairs as though gravity means nothing to her, and he’s one to follow. Always one to follow.

Jumin watches as she steps out from the stairs and, within moments, is hit with rain. At first, droplets cascade down her hair and over her clothes, but then they begin to soak in—her hair becoming darker with the weather. She turns around to him, her lips pulled into a grin, water slipping over her skin and reflecting the lights from the gala and the moon. He notices the absence of her champagne and looks back up at the balcony to see it long forgotten on its railing. Yet here she stands before him, nothing but joy evident on her face as water drips over her eyelids and onto her lashes.

So he steps out from the stairs, feeling the rain gather in his hair and on his body. She brings her hands up, then, using one to cup his jaw while the other runs through his hair, letting the rain settle into the strands. Then she brings that hand down until she’s got both thumbs resting on his cheeks. His hands move to rest on her hips, begging to pull her closer, but then she moves away from him.

“Come, my dear,” She says, sliding her hand down to his, “You wished to explore, didn’t you?”

“Only so far,” He replies, and she turns, a knowing smile placed onto her face. So she guides him away from the staircase, allowing both of them to become even more soaked than before, but brings them to an archway tunnel covered in vines, a stone bench laying beneath it.

The leaves offer some shelter from the rain, but even still, he can feel the drops as they slip through and onto the top of his head. But he finds he doesn’t particularly care. She turns back to him, then, closer than before, and pulls him down to her until he’s only inches away from her lips. His eyes fall down to them before trailing back up, noticing the way a droplet slips down the length of her nose, the way her lashes are dotted by bits of water left by passing beads of rainfall.

“Is this what you wished for?” She asks, her voice nothing but a whisper. He leans closer to hear it, the tip of his nose hitting against hers. She laughs bumps their noses together again, and this time he feels just how cold it is.

His hands move to wrap around her before he speaks, finally free to touch every inch of her skin that she allows. While one hand moves up, going beneath the strings that tie the back of her dress to feel between her shoulder blades, dull nails lightly scratching along the skin there, the other hand does as he’s done all night. Finally, he dives beneath the dress, firmly pressing the pads of his fingers into the skin of her hip. Her eyes shut and she breathes in before laughing, oh so breathless against his skin.

“Please,” He breathes against her lips. It’s only a moment more when she closes the gap that lays between them, her skin cold against his, but a welcome chill. Her hands crawl up into his hair, messing with the strands that lay at the base of his neck. He feels as water drips down his spine, and he’s acutely aware of the fact that he surely looks like a mess right now, certainly no longer presentable for a gala.

For once, he finds he doesn’t care. He would be enveloped by rain or fire, heat or chill, if it meant he could feel the press of her lips against his. He would storm into any event, drenched in rain, shirt clinging to his skin, if it meant he could kiss her under nature’s tears.

He pulls his lips from hers to bring them to her jaw. He trails kissing from there down her neck, careful not to bite at the skin despite the dying urge to. He feels her tilt her head back, feels unsteady breaths leave her throat. Her hair falls down her shoulder, and he’s hit with chamomile and lavender again.

With the scent wandering about his nose, her hands pulling at his hair, the sound of her breathing quiet in his ears, the sight of rain upon her flesh so near to him, and the taste of her skin against his lips—he wishes for nothing more than to allow her to become the entirety of his senses. He would live and breath her if he could. He would do nothing but listen to every moment of her and live as nothing but something to perceive her.

His lips reach her collarbone, and he can’t help but run his teeth along the skin there. She intakes a sharp breath and he laughs, low, into her shoulder. There, he moves a hand away from her back to slip the strap of her dress down her arm. He kisses her shoulder now, moving across to the top of her breast.

“Jumin-“ She breathes, and he stops, moving back up to kiss her jaw.

“Let me do nothing but worship you, my love,” He whispers, and then kisses the corner of her mouth before pulling away. “Please.” She breathes in, her eyes slipping closed at his voice, but shakes her head, moving her hands away from his hair to settle onto his cheeks once more.

“Another time,” She begins, “But not here.” Jumin nods, and she leans in to press her lips to his. He grips at her waist once more and she laughs into him, burying her face into the crook of her neck.

As the rain continues to fall upon them, Jumin glances back to the gala building. He doesn’t dare unwrap his arms from her, letting her head continue to rest on his shoulder.

“I think it would be a poor decision for us to return the way we came,” He says, and he feels as she nods into him. He turns so he can kiss the top of her head, and then grabs his phone, already sending a message to Driver Kim.

#jumin han #jumin han x reader #jumin han x mc #jumin x reader #jumin x mc #mystic messenger #mysme #mysme fanfic

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pretty-setter-bois · 4 years

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elephant in the room

request; none! this idea popped into my head n i thought it was funny. also, this takes place during episode 4 ღ

summary; sexual tension between you and our resident ‘innocent boy’. but daisuke’s there too.

word count; 2611™

warnings; suggestive themes (no nsfw!), daisuke bby cuts his finger while cutting potatoes, maybe haru not being as innocent as we deem him to be ☛☚

prequel

DAISUKE’S PHONE RINGS as he walks along the roads on the private property he owned, eyebrows knitting and lips pursing as he looked at the contact calling him, answering nonetheless. “what?”

“you got some time right now?” haru asks.

wasn’t it his day off?

“yeah.” he leans forward in anticipation. “hurry up and get to the point.”

“sorry, to do this while you’re off duty, but could you help me with something? well, it’s not like absolutely need your help, but...” haru rambles.

“i don’t mind coming over, however...” daisuke looks at the road ahead of him, knowing the journey was long. “why didn’t you ask (L/N)-san? she lives much closer than i do, and-” a small, repetitive beep continued for a few seconds, cutting him off.

haru had hung up.

DAISUKE HAD SPOTTED haru on the bench, beginning to fall asleep. “hey. what do you need?”

“hey. sorry about this.” he jolts awake.

“hurry up and get to the point.” he replies, arrogant. “is something wrong with that child?”

the kid runs towards them, pointing towards daisuke. “is this the man?”

“yeah.” haru confirms with a nod.

“mister! please, can you find shiro for me?” he begs.

“what’s going on?” he turns to haru.

“shiro has gone missing!’ the boy exclaims.

“well, basically, a puppy named shiro has gone missing.” haru explains. “can you use your AI butler to find him?”

that was how daisuke got roped into this mess, following a wild goose chase in the shape of a white dog, without HEUSC.

he fools the kid into running off to find his dog, the smug smile playing on his face disappearing as haru drags him after the kid.

they meet an old woman on her yard, finding out that the dog the boy thought was shiro, was actually a cat.

they leave the yard defeated, taking tsuyoshi (the boy) to the police station to find out where he lived, and take him home.

THE DETECTIVE DUO were in the grocery store, daisuke pushing the cart as haru gathered the ingredients they needed for dinner. daisuke dangerously eyes the natto haru placed in the shopping cart, not wanting it near him at any cost.

you, on the other hand, completely oblivious to them, were happily shopping among the tiny store. you placed all your items in your basket, unknowingly standing behind them in line.

you had to admit, the crisp-ironed white dress shirt and dark, navy blue vest looked completely familiar. “kambe-san?”

“(L/N)-san,” he turns around casually, revealing haru behind him.

“what are you doing here?” your voice quiets down a little, shocked at the sight of the man behind him as you addressed daisuke.

“shopping. i wish you a pleasant experience while shopping in this... grocery store.” his nose crinkles while he tries to remember the name of the building he was in.

“yeah, you too...” your voice wavers, and you want nothing more but to return to your timid ways.

“you should have dinner with us. it would be nice to partake in an activity together outside of the office. this is what you would call a hangout, am i correct?”

“yeah.” you giggle at his formality and absence of knowledge for casual words, not yet noticing haru’s strong stare towards you.

“WHEN I SAID ‘yeah��, i was agreeing to your question about hangouts.” you jog on the side walk, trying to keep up with the tall men in front of you (though you would soon find out that daisuke was a lot closer to your height than you’d originally thought).

“i apologize, would you like to go home?” he asks as formally as he does bluntly.

“she’s already here, so she might as well eat with us, right?” haru says, and it’s the first sentence he’s spoken that was addressed to you.

his voice is so much softer, so much higher compared to the octaves it dropped to last time-

you squeeze your eyes shut, taking a deep breath and opening them as you try your hardest to focus on whatever the pavement was made out of and nothing but.

he was thanking whatever higher power above him that he was walking in front, as every single on of the features on his face was a telltale sign that he was on the verge of breakdown.

daisuke stops in front of the building, admiring it (or so you thought). you stop behind him, as the pathway to the stairwell was blocked, and you were more interested in what he had to say than being in haru’s line of sight.

“what are you doing?” haru turns towards him.

“this is where you live?” he asks.

“got a problem with that?” haru exclaims.

“no.” daisuke blinks, before the three of you set foot inside haru’s humble abode.

“it’s a bit cluttered, but don’t worry about it.” he motions.

“so you really do live here?” daisuke asks again, and you think about getting involved before haru kicks him out and it becomes just the two of you.

“stop pestering!” he becomes agitated, but leads you both to the kitchen. “i have to cook some rice first... alright, can you chop up the carrots and potatoes over there?”

haru hands his fellow detective a potato, as daisuke stares at it intently. you decide to intervene, feeling bad that you’d ended up in his house without him being able to make a decision. “i’ll help!”

haru nods, taking things out of his shopping bag as you focus on his eyes. they had returned to their usual, golden yellow, and his pupils were normal again.

they had darkened to a gorgeous light brown hue a few nights prior, his pupils largely dilating to a radius you’d never seen on eyes before-

you move to one of his drawers, the one he kept knives (and corkscrews, which you’d learned earlier) in to help daisuke with cutting vegetables.

daisuke noticed that you’d known exactly where it was without guidance, but brushed it off and focused on the task at hand.

once you’d found one, you stand next to him and begin to cut potatoes effortlessly, humming a small tune you’d heard somewhere on the bus.

daisuke looks over, trying to copy your actions, failing with difficulty. how did you make it look so easy?

“need help?” you ask with a smile, to which he nods, primarily focusing on the potatoes.

“like this...” you unknowingly stick your tongue out in concentration, sturdying his left hand around the vegetable and guiding his right hand with your own, all while standing beside him.

haru couldn’t keep his eyes off of the both of you, mentally cursing daisuke for using the opportunity to get closer to you. why was he jealous?

“ah!” he yells, being too distracted to notice the hot steam that tickled — and almost burned — his hand.

“are you alright?” you ask, peaking your head through the door.

you’d gotten comfortable with the situation, knowing that you’d be here for a while. might as well suck it up and act like an adult, right?

“yeah...” he breathes, ears twitching at your voice.

it was just as harmonious as it was when he’d heard it then, had you always sounded like an angel? you didn’t even have to speak words, incoherent noises being more than enough proof-

he tries to shake the thoughts out of his head, counting the grains of rice to distract him from being distracted. he was doomed.

you, completely unaware of his thoughts, decided that daisuke had had enough practice cutting and could do it on his own. not even a minute later, he speaks up.

“the first aid box.”

you look up, confused.

“i injured myself. bring me the first aid box.” he repeats.

“huh? like i’d have something like that. just lick it, it’ll heal.” haru shrugs.

you inspect daisuke’s finger, noticing that the cut was larger than an average cut you’d get from cutting vegetables.

you nimbly make your way to the shelf, opening it and reaching for the band-aids. damn it. even on your tippy-toes you weren’t tall enough to reach it.

you feel a presence behind you, one you recognize. you recognize it because it’s the only one capable of making your heart race, the speed of your mind competing against your heart with thoughts-

“(L/N)-san?” daisuke asked, eager for your return as he would not be able to cut the rest of the potato.

“yes?” you squeaked, glad he couldn’t see you trapped in between the sink and haru.

“where are you?” he continues with his question.

“i’m getting band-aids, give me a second.” you manage to speak.

so you knew where the band-aids were, too. he thinks.

at the mention of band-aids, haru gets them from above you and places them in front of you. you let out a small ‘thank you’, and get back to daisuke.

realizing that you had to get back to the kitchen to return them, and you couldn’t bare another awkward interaction, you place them on the table and continue with your work.

“THIS IS ALL you have?” daisuke asks, stepping out of the shower in haru’s clothes.

you couldn’t help but marvel at his appearance, how does his hair feel like? is it as fluffy as it seems? he looked absolutely adorable.

“you know, you’ve been complaining this whole time.” haru points out, and daisuke crosses his arms on his chest behind him.

you were also glad that daisuke took short showers, as being alone with haru made the elephant in the room grow bigger.

said man put your food on to plates, and the three of you carried your plates to a table, you being on either side of them.

“thank you for the food.” you nod, before beginning to eat.

you had to admit, this was much better than the packet-ramen you had originally planned to eat.

he looked at you while you were distracted, devouring something from hunger as he began to-

-eat his own food, shaking his head again. the three of you had finished your food, and you washed the plates and spoons as a token of gratitude for the meal.

you’d arrived at the table after finishing, only to be greeted by an awkward question from daisuke. “have you been here before?”

“what do you mean?” not quite comprehending it.

“haru’s apartment.” he tilts his head towards you. “have you been here before?”

your eyes widen, a shaking fist making it’s way towards your chest as you blushed red. “wh-why would you say that?”

“you know where everything is. the knives, the ban-aids, the sponge.” he bluntly deducts.

you looked at haru, who gulped and tried to avoid your stare. so this is how the night was going to go down?

“n-no, not at all!” you nervously chuckle. “all houses look the same in this area, so it was easy.”

“do all people put their belongings in the same places too?” daisuke asks. what he meant as a simple question became more evidence against your lie.

“um...” you shy away from the question.

“i got something you might like.” haru says, and like that, the conversation is dodged. for now.

dry-cured ham was thrown into the mix (and spit out by daisuke, to which you tried and failed to stifle a laugh).

haru gets up and goes to the kitchen, throwing in a bunch of ingredients to make something he referred to as a ‘kato family special’.

“a can of tuna, bean sprouts... pour some soy sauce with tons of wasabi in it... and lastly, some bonito flakes.” he explains as he cooks.

he serves it to daisuke, and you watch intently as the millionaire takes a bite. was he going to enjoy food that us commoners eat?

“are you going to have some, (L/N)-san?” he asks.

“ah, no thank you. i’ve had some befo-” you cut yourself off, realizing what you had just said.

“you’ve been here before.” he bluntly shrugs. “why hide it?”

you don’t respond, instead excusing yourself for water (and a change of dreaded atmosphere). after you return, you announce, “i think i should take my leave now... it’s getting late, and if i wait any later, i wont be able to leave.”

“your phone.” daisuke simply points out.

damn it. it had died earlier, and thankfully, you had a charger (so you wouldn’t have to ask haru for one). you’d come here walking, and since it was late, you didn’t want to leave without your phone at least at a decently charged number.

“i guess a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt...” you awkwardly chuckle.

“INSPECTOR ASANO, YOU are ordered on indefinite leave effective today.” the tv announces, the movie you’d been roped into watching coming close to an end.

haru and daisuke sat behind you, the only difference between you three is that you were the only one sober. you didn’t want another repeat of last time.

haru began rambling about justice, about how some people lived a life with everything given to them. daisuke, on the other hand, was on the verge of falling asleep.

his subconscious self made his way to wherever he ended up, saying that he wanted to sleep. you yourself had gotten up, knowing that you had to get going yourself.

as you were getting up, you felt something tug at your wrist. a drunk haru. “don’t leave. it’s late.”

“well, i kind of have too...” you nervously giggle while rubbing the back of your neck.

“why?”

“well, i can’t sleep here. there’s no where i can sleep.” you shrug; a lie.

“then sleep on the bed.”

“i’m pretty sure daisuke’s sleeping on the couch, and i’d hate to kick you off of your own bed-”

“i’ll sleep on the bed too.”

your face gets red, your arm gets limp in his and your brain can’t comprehend anything. “wh-what?”

“i said i’ll sleep on the bed too, why should it matter.” his words are slowly spoken. “i mean, we’ve done it before, right?”

haru was always bolder when drunk (proven by last time), and it only left you blushing and limp.

“b-but... daisuke’s outside, how-what is-”

he cuts her off, pulling her towards him as she falls forwards. their lips, the only thing on their minds, being a mere inch away, connect themselves as if having minds of their own.

what was meant to be an innocent kiss soon turned into a heated one, and then a make-out session, and then you staying over. you’d dreaded the repeat of last time to happen, but now that it had, you couldn’t be any more grateful.

extra;

YOU’D WOKEN UP early, lazily putting on whatever you’d discarded the night before. you dashed to the bathroom to at least try and wash up, before daisuke caught you and questioned you again.

you open the door quietly, almost letting out a shout of surprise. in the bathtub, daisuke was sleeping soundly yet in an uncomfortable position. you quickly scramble for your phone, thinking that he couldn’t get any more adorable than he was now.

you snap a quick photo, deciding that it was all the waking up that you needed, and made your way to haru’s room. you woke him up softly, watching as his eyelashes slowly blinked awake.

you give him a quick kiss on the cheek, before he mutters something incomprehensible and goes back to sleep. maybe one day, the elephant in the room would be addressed.

NOTES ☀♕❣⁂ღ

so um, this was a ride. i’m glad i finally have a haru imagine! our bby deserves some love! also, daisuke with his hair down, a whole BABY.

#haru x reader #haru kato x reader #kato x reader #haru kato imagine #balance unlimited imagines #balance unlimited #the millionare detective balance: unlimited #balance unlimited x reader

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pirchscientificllc · 2 years

Text

fashion/style notes with no sources because I need to be in bed in 2 hours

josephine: always on top of fashion, lots of new clothes all the time, LOVED jewelry. she's significantly more broke in modern times so this means lots of bright/upbeat colors, statement jewelry, gets a lot of joy out of finding dupes for high fashion or pieces that just look better.

napoleon: wore military uniforms most of the time, actively maintained a #brand, stopped giving a shit in exile. mows the lawn shirtless, mostly dresses for comfort, still owns a really nice suit for functions because you never know

kitty: wore very simple/plain clothing (dresses with no embellishments, plain white muslin) given that she was a duchess, didn't like being the center of attention. she spent most of her free time knitting apparently? usually wears her pirch uniform or has TJ Maxx vibes. only pirch member besides essie that usually leaves out part of the uniform if she can, partially because she doesn't identify that closely to what it represents and partially because it's based on menswear from her time period/place so it feels like crossdressing to her and only her

arthur: tailored outfits, subtle but actively coordinated colors, caused a stir in parliament by wearing a white cape, you just know that it was all expensive materials and ~construction~. wears more colors and patterns in the modern world and looks like a GQ spread. not averse to wearing/carrying things with visible logos or design trademarks like burberry check or prada triangles

franz: also impeccably tailored, grey black and navy suits for everyday wear and white/light grey for travel, plain or unobtrusively striped ties, also paid a great deal of attention to his hair and nails. did not wear a lot of heavy winter stuff despite living in fucking prague. he dresses basically the same in the modern world plus or minus jeans because formal menswear hasn't changed at all since he died. arthur's dream is to convince him to go get something tailored at savile row

ada: this is just going off portraits. she was dressed fashionably but strictly according to the standards for debutantes in her time because she kind of couldn't afford to ruin her reputation any more than it already was. now you may be wondering how the fuck this translates to egirl cosplay shit but they're both like very precise cookie-cutter styles designed to make the wearer appealing and unthreatening to straight men and the hemline is not that important

ros: again going off of pictures, extremely practical, used to both finer dressing and making do with nothing, more gnc af in modern times but not in the usual sporty or mechanic butch way, more like a puffer vest and fleece engineer way. practical women's wear that would be safe in a lab has gotten more conservative as labs now prioritize lawsuit avoidance over gender conformity. sometimes wears a mildly cosplayish or "geeky" thing because ada likes it

ching: like that video of the motivational japanese clam fisherman mixed with the random florals and elaborate prints (not actual embroidery or embellishment) that chinese women of a certain age are apparently required to wear. bucket hats and sunglasses are also required by law. accidentally incredibly trendy because of all the workwear but she actually needs it for work???

johann: technically professional (in the sense that like yeah technically it is a button up and khakis) and gender conforming but also a little too comfortable with the colors and cuts. drawn to embellishments that make little to no sense beyond depicting a noun. you look at him and know there's something wrong with him but he's in a good mood so you're not going to say anything about it

essie: mid 2010s instagram influencer that inexplicably dresses like it's somewhere between marilyn monroe and paris hilton. look usually leans towards the cute and flirty side of the spectrum. main thing separating her from a drag queen is the sincerity and effort put into being flirty in an understated, good taste way. her uniform is flashier than the other ones but she specifically asked for a modified uniform instead of something custom so it wouldn't ruin group pictures

alex: he was probably a dandy but he's broke again so he just looks like some guy now sorry

jeanne: long dresses in cute colors that cover the shoulders and knees at all times but also how to crossdress in a god-honoring way? unironic adidas tracksuit

mulan: proudly wears her uniform even when it's not necessary, dresses like a frat bro the rest of the time. t shirts with huge arm holes cut out, snapbacks and basketball shorts, sometimes modifies the uniform (chunky sneakers instead of black boots, wearing a red bandana around her neck). ironic adidas tracksuit. potent levels of both tboy swag and tboy cringe

manager: dressing formally all the time like hannibal for the same reasons as hannibal (people suit) but with none of the plaid or colors or pocket squares because he's not gay.

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musekicker · 3 years

Text

Consider this a part one for a Stolas/Blitz/Striker/Millie/Moxxie au formal event drabble.

Being the partners of a royal demon meant that Blitz, Moxxie, Millie, and Striker were in the public eye time to time.

It wasn't a scandal that Stolas had so many partners and while married at that. He and Stella had made it very clear to everyone that this was something they were on the same page on. The only reason they had not divorced were some very old laws that would not allow them to do so.

So they both had agreed to having other partners even when still married.

And Stolas had slowly ended up with more partners then expected. Blitz had came first into his life. Moxxie and Millie came very soon after since they already worked with Blitz.

Striker was a different story.

This imp had came into their lives via Stella of all things. It had been her attempt to try to look for her own other partners.

Striker was someone she had come across. She wouldn't say how, and no one pressed her on it. They just knew she had brought Striker over to the palace more then once with sexual intent.

Intent be dammed though as she found she couldn't quite bring herself to do it, even if she truly was fine with Stolas being able to. And she had tried multiple times. Each time it would end with one of the other inhabitants of the palace coming into the kitchen in the morning and finding Striker there, helping himself to something to eat after a night of basically talking and then a good sleep.

Stolas wasn't sure what to make of Striker at first. Somehow he felt like Striker was always sizing him up. Like looking for weaknesses.

But as time passed and Striker and Stolas got use to each other they eventually grew close. Especially after when Blitz talked to Stolas about his own interest in Striker. After that it had all kind of fallen into place.

It was something that worked for them all. It was almost cozy. As much as one could be in hell.

The being in the public eye was something the imps of the group were getting use to. And one of the more challenging things for at least some of the group were formal events that they now were expected to attend.

Tonight was such a event.

Striker scowled at himself in the mirror.

"I hate this." Striker said.

It wasn't as the out fit looked bad so much as he just hated wearing them.

The dress pants and jacket were the color of night. With gold buttons in the shape of stars and a gold tie finished the look.

Striker clearly was not enjoying the look though. Give him his usual look any time.

Blitz, who was also dressed in a elegant manner, though he currently had his dress jacket off, showing his white shirt and red vest over it, smirked.

"Aww what? You need that fringe and rhinestones?" Blitz teased.

"You shut the fuck up." Striker said, though there was no venom to his words.

"Hey, you're the one who had a hour long debate about wearing that old hat of yours." Blitz said.

"I still think I'm right." Striker said, crossing his arms.

"of course you do." Blitz said.

Blitz looked Striker up and down.

"You look good in that outfit though." Blitz said.

Striker did grin at that comment.

"Sure you don't want to see me out of it?" Striker said with a wink.

Blitz grinned.

"I think the guy who picked out the clothes and got us ready in the first place would have a panic attack if we did." Blitz said.

"Do you care?" Striker asked.

"Fuck no. But I do think Stolas would be bothered by it. Also we probably never hear the end of it." Blitz said.

"True." Striker said. "Not worth the shit."

As that was said Millie walked into the room, arm and arm with Moxxie.

"I love this dress!" Millie declared.

Millie let go of Moxxie's arm and twirled to show off all angles of her dress.

The dress was a darker blue, with gold constellations embroidered into the fabric. There was a gold ribbon at the back of the waist.

"And look... pockets!" Millie said.

"Fuck yeah!" Blitz said.

"Looking good, Mildred." Striker said.

Millie beamed.

Moxxie was wearing the same kind of outfit as Striker and Blitz. Striker took notice of this and smirked.

"Well one of us is going have to change." Striker teased.

"How dare you. I wanted to make that joke." Moxxie said.

"Got to be faster, little dude." Striker said.

One of the rare moments that Moxxie and Striker were not being snippy to each other. How long that would last was any ones guess.

Stolas strode into the room last, dressed in the same colors as the rest.

"Is everyone ready?" Stolas asked.

"Yeah, I had a jacket around here somewhere though." Blitz said.

"Found it!" Millie said, hanging the jacket over.

"Thanks, Mills." Blitz said, shrugging on the fancy jacket. "Can't party if you don't look good."

They excited the room and started down the hall, talking, laughing. Though Striker was fairly quiet.

Moxxie took notice, side glancing at Striker. He didn't say anything though. Knowing Striker it would get waved off as nothing. He got distracted by Millie asking him a question and the slight worry was put aside. With everyone else ahead of him, Striker took a moment at the top of the stairs leading down to the ball room.

He could do this.

A quick breath, then he took that first step.

#helluva boss

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liannadonuts · 4 years

Text

Dress up idea in Bakarina

You see, I had this weird idea that Katarina atleast played dress up with Keith and or Gerald once when they were kids cause she saw how cute and adorable hey were and would possibly pass a girls. So she had a big brain idea to dress them up once.

For Keith, she was probably able to persuade him much to Keith's disagreement but he couldn't really say no to his wonderful older sister.

For Gerald, that was totally a situation she had to think a lot about

I totally believe in the idea that young Gerald (probably around 11 years old) didn't mind growing his hair out at some point.

Katarina saw this a great opportunity to dress him up and she had the perfect white but formal outfit for him ready.

She panicked when the one time he visited her that he was planning to cut of his hair

So in a rush, she had thus huge plan to make him atleast dress him up

Of course, it was no easy plan to persuade that prince

She then thought, what if she challenged him

Of course challenging that genius prince would be like a suicide mission

Then she thought

TREE CLIMBING CONTEST

No one beated her a tree climbing, she was named as the wild monkey at her past life, this genius prince would't defeat her that easily

Katarina then planned everything on his next visit.

Prince Gerald arrived as usual in the parlor they have their talks

Katarina then talked about how amazing he was but of course he wasn't always amazing which kinda got the young prince interested

He suggests that was probably the case for Alan

Katarina thej says that there's one thing he can never beat her at and thats a fact

Smiling eerily he asks her what that was

Katarina: TREE CLIMBING

Ahh, Gerald should've seen this coming

Katarina then says that as proof she challenges him today and the loser gets to do whatever the winner says

Not backing out in a challenge, the prince obliged in a scary smile that kinda worried Katarina, but she was determined! She was basically 17 years old plus 5 years, she can beat some 11-year-old kid nonetheless a pampered prince.

He wasn't as good as Alan probably is anyways

Though, she forgot of the genius part for Gerald actually

She got worried when the contest started (much to Anne's worry on what the heck was Katarina making the prince do also Keith's constant stress) that Gerald wasn't as bad when Alan first started and he started catching

In fear, she released her secret weapon

POCKET SNAKE!

Then he fell and she realized her mistake

In fear being exiled, she immediately went down to check upon him, Anne also ran back to the mansion to get some first aid supplies. Katarina was worried when it took him a while for him to move as he winced at the pain at his head

"I'm really sorry! I shouldn't have made you climb trees!!!" She bowed in the form of a dogeza which kinda confused the 3rd prince but he simply chuckled at her form.

"It hurts, but a little rest will heal this away, though it wasn't quite fair that you were cheating"

"Cheating?!"

"Your toy snake- that you just threw at me-"

"Ahh...that was...precaution" and he simply sighs

"Then this a draw then" and she gasped, she fears at whatever the prince had in mind for her, she didn't even prepare her stuff for her exile yet so soon.

"But I was still leading-"

"You cheated-"

"It's not my fault you're scared of snakes..."

"You didn't clarify the rules either way, and my fear of such reptiles is something you already knew, thus you used to your advantage" he smiles, but she shivers seeing that angelic smile.

"Fine then! It's a draw! We both get turns to let the other listen to what they say." She pouts and he thought it was adorable

"Then in all fairness, I'll let you tell me what to do first then, as you were leading" and she grins, he might have mistaken it for a smile but Gerald knows a grin when he sees one

"Then let's play dress up!"

"Dress up?"

"But you can't complain on how I dress you up"

"Isn't that another order-"

"It's part of the overall thing!"

So Katarina was satisfied to have her dress up time with her fiancee

At first Gerald thought it was normal dress up

He was wrong

He should've asked her to do something for him first when he had the chance

Katarina's unexpectedness was still always a mystery at him

So when she showed him a pretty white dress with red vest and light green ribbons matching his colors, he feared what would happen

But then, fair was fair

He didn't like it really

But Katarina's face of pure adoration convinced him a little to bear with it.

Though he was gonna swear Keith to not tell anyone what happened or so help him his reputation is going to be questioned.

In fairness, Gerald then told her his order for Katarina

"I just want you to cling on me until I leave"

Katarina thought, that wasn't so bad, and he was so cute to be ignored so she gave him a big hug

Which resulted to red blushing mess of an angelic prince now princess

And Keith, Gerald, Katarina and Anne promised eachother to never speak of this day again

Though for Katarina, it might be one of her most favorite childhood memories.

Bonus:

Katarina: Keith! I have one here for you too!

Keith: No I-

Gerald: She's right, you should join in the fun

Keith: hahaha it's fine rea-

Katarina: PLEASEEEE?

Keith: ...dang it

#Hamefura #hamefura #bakarina #katarina claes #jeord stuart #gerald stuart #geordo stuart #keith claes #anne shelley #otome game no hametsu flag shika nai akuyaku reijou ni tensei shiteshimatta #My life as a villainess: all routes lead to doom #はめふら #random fic ideas really #this boys are too adorable not wear dresses #hamehura #i reincarnated as a villainess in an otome game with doom flags

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falseh0od · 4 years

Text

All They Really Need

It’s finally here.

Note: A reminder that this is being written Right Now in honor of a strike that is happening on TikTok! There's been an influx of toxic Fanders on TikTok who seem to think that Logicality, Prinxiety, Dukeceit, and Remile are the only valid Sanders Sides ships which is nowhere near the truth! So, a lot of Sanders Sides cosplayers (myself included) are going on a two-week Sanders Sides cosplay strike to stand up to the bullies, and I'm also writing this finally as well! Because I will *always* prefer Analogical and Royality above any other ship, especially Logicality and Prinxiety! So enjoy my boys being gay disasters and finally deciding to make a lifelong promise to each other!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22446493

Summary: Virgil decides it's time for the next big step in his relationship with Logan... no matter how irrelevant it may seem.

TWs: a couple swear words, some anxiety, but nothing horrible!

It was a quiet day in the Mindscape.

Virgil was quietly lounging on the couch in the living room, scrolling through Tumblr and generally minding his own business. On the surface level, it might’ve looked like Virgil was just indulging in his typical emo content on Tumblr.

However, the side was actually desperately attempting (with attempting being the keyword here) to pull together a date plan for the evening.

Today was his and Logan’s two year dating anniversary, and although Virgil had come up with his overall plan for the evening a month ago, he had been so anxious about pulling it off that he had been procrastinating it ever since.

This had all stemmed after Roman had suddenly actually proposed to Patton nearly six months ago. It had been a shock to everyone- Patton included! But the two were determined to take that next step in their relationship despite the fact that it wasn’t possible for Sides to legally be married.

Considering that they had basically everything they could possibly want at their disposal, the wedding planning had gone smoothly and had taken much less time than it normally would. As a result, the wedding had happened about two months ago. Virgil and Logan had been the ‘best men’, and Thomas had done his best to officiate.

And in all honesty, Virgil had never seen either side as happy as they had been for the past two months.

Did Virgil originally think that the concept of them, as sides, getting ‘married’ was unimportant because they would never be truly married anyway? Yeah. Logan had clearly felt the same right after the announcement had been made, too. But Virgil couldn’t deny the rising feeling of longing. He didn’t want anything big or over-the-top, but goddamnit, he wanted to make that lifelong promise to the one person he loved most.

He didn’t know how Logan would feel, but he was hoping Logan would agree.

So here he was, ring in his pocket, scrolling through Tumblr trying desperately to come up with a good way to propose.

That was until his peaceful mid-morning was suddenly interrupted by a very loud Prince.

“Yes, the wind blows a little bit colder!” Roman burst into the room, singing what had quickly become one of his favorite songs from Frozen II to sing (especially when he was doing a duet with Patton). “And we’re all getting older! Aaand the clouds are moving on with every autumn breeeeze!”

Roman continued to sing through the first verse of the song, giving both Anna and Olaf’s lines his all. Virgil just rolled his eyes, trying to put his focus back on Tumblr.

That is until he had an idea.

Besides, maybe Roman could help him, anyway.

As soon as Roman got to the start of the second verse, before Roman could continue, Virgil butted in.

“The leaves are already falling,” he sang (a rare occurrence indeed, but he could make an exception). “Sven, it feels like the future is calling.”

Roman paused for half a second, almost instantly catching Virgil’s drift. A wide grin almost instantly formed on his face. “Are you telling me tonight you’re going to get down on one knee???”

Virgil sat up and gave Roman a quick nod, continuing on. “Yeah, but I’m really bad at planning these things out- like candlelight and pulling of rings out.”

Roman plopped down next to him. “Maybe you should leave all the romantic stuff to me…”

Virgil just rolled his eyes. “Some things never change… like the love that I feel for him.” (yes, purposely changing the pronoun.) “Some things never change… like how reindeers are easier. But if I commit and I go for it, I’ll know what to say and do… right?”

Roman gave him a Look. “Some things never change…” He then smirked and stole Virgil’s last line. “Virge, the pressure is all on you.”

Virgil shoved him gently in response. Roman just laughed, deciding not to continue with the song. “So, I thought you two thought getting married was irrelevant?”

“I mean, I did,” Virgil muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “But… I’ve realized that I wanna make that promise to him.”

Roman nodded. “You know, Virgil, that was actually exactly my reasoning behind proposing to Patton, and sometimes that’s the only reasoning you need. I think, even if he still thinks it’s irrelevant, he’ll do it for you if you truly want it.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. The only problem I’m having is figuring out just how the hell to do it.”

“Mm, I see. Well, I have a few ideas, if you’d like to hear them.”

“As long as they’re not too extra, I’m all ears.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Virgil stood outside of Logan’s room, hand in his pocket, clutching the ring box.

It had turned out that Roman could actually have some down-to-earth ideas if he really wanted to, and had helped Virgil come up with a solid plan for the evening that could be easily amended if needed. It was simple and quaint, and Virgil was feeling pretty good about it.

Save for the butterflies in his stomach about the proposal, but that was normal, right?

Virgil took a deep breath and knocked on Logan’s door.

He had taken it upon himself to actually look somewhat decent for the evening. He was wearing the only tie he owned, which resembled his hoodie to a point, along with a purple button-down. It was similar to what he had worn in the courtroom, though Virgil had made a point to wear a black vest, too, to put some distance between the two events.

He was still wearing his hoodie, though. No amount of persuasion from Roman could keep him from wearing it. He was also wearing his signature ripped black skinny jeans as well because they looked good with formal outfits and Virgil would die on that hill.

The door opened, and Virgil’s breath suddenly disappeared.

Logan was looking even more dapper than ever and holy fuck was Virgil gay.

He was wearing a black button-down in replacement of his usual polo, along with his signature tie- but adding on a snazzy blazer that had a gorgeous galaxy print. Adding in the dress pants and shoes Virgil was starting to feel slightly underdressed but he knew Logan wouldn’t care.

“You good there, starlight?” Logan asked, almost teasing in a way.

Virgil finally found his voice. “Oh, uh, yeah, I’m ga- good. I’m good.

Logan just laughed softly and the two leaned in for a quick kiss.

Virgil spoke up after they broke apart. “So, I have a couple of things planned for the evening, actually. For after dinner.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I managed to convince Roman to let me borrow the imagination for the night.”

“That actually sounds wonderful, Virgil. I think that’ll be a nice change of pace for a date night.”

“Well, it is our anniversary. I thought it would be appropriate.”

“Indeed.” Logan put his hand around Virgil’s waist, and Virgil put his own hand around Logan’s as they walked down to the kitchen.

Where they were treated to a sight that Virgil was not expecting.

Patton was dressed up in a chef outfit, humming ‘Into the Unknown’ as he stirred a pot on the stove.

“Patton!” Virgil exclaimed. “I thought we had kitchen rights for the night?”

Patton turned to them and grinned. “Aww, you two look so dapper! Oh, yes, Virgil, you guys do have kitchen rights for tonight! I just thought I would do something nice for you two for your anniversary and cook dinner!”

Virgil went red. “Oh- uhh. Well, I guess that works. Thanks, Pat.”

“No problem!” Patton then winked at him and Virgil resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands and groan.

Of course Roman had gotten Patton into this.

He couldn’t complain though, because Patton was the best cook out of all of them, and he had just been planning to stick a frozen pizza in the oven. Roman had probably taken personal offense at that crime against romance at its very core and enlisted Patton for help.

“That indeed sounds wonderful, Patton. What are you making?” Logan asked.

“My secret spaghetti recipe!”

That recipe was not secret, but it was one of Patton’s best recipes, so Virgil couldn’t complain.

“Oh, cool,” Virgil nodded, walking over to the table and pulling a chair out for Logan (like a gentleman, of course). Logan sat down, saying a quick thank you to Virgil as Virgil went to sit down himself.

As they waited for Patton to finish, the two of them chatted quietly, talking about the day they each had, holding hands across the table and just generally being sappy.

After a while, Patton finally came over with two plates of spaghetti in his hands.

“There’s more on the stove if you want seconds!” he said cheerfully. “Don’t worry ‘bout the dishes when you finish, I’ll take care of them later!”

“Are you certain, Patton?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You two deserve to enjoy your evening, I can do the dishes for ya!”

Virgil gave in with a shrug. “If you’re positive.”

“I very much am! Now, enjoy your dinner, and if you need Ro or I for any reason whatsoever, we’ll be in the living room watching Mulan!”

Suddenly, in the distance, both left-brained sides heard Roman start booming out the lyrics to ‘Let’s Get Down to Business’.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Sounds good, Pat. Have fun.”

“I’ll do my best,” he grinned with a wink, walking off.

Logan and Virgil then dug into their dinner, which tasted even better than it ever had before. Patton had obviously made certain everything was perfect. It was mostly silent as they ate, both trying to be polite so as to not make the other have to talk with their mouth full or to have to wait awkwardly to finish chewing before they responded

Then, as they finished, Logan finally spoke up. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Well, Roman conjured a movie theatre in the imagination for me, and I picked out an astronomy documentary I’m 90% certain you haven’t seen.”

“An astronomy documentary I haven’t seen? What a concept.”

Virgil laughed. “Nerd.” Virgil then grabbed Logan’s plate and stacked it on top of his own, putting their utensils on top. He stood up, then held out his arm. “Shall we head out?”

Logan took his arm. “Indeed.”

The two stopped momentarily to share another kiss, which lingered longer than the one before.

“God I love you,” Virgil murmured.

“I love you as well.”

Virgil led them to the door to the imagination and opened it.

Logan gasped.

Virgil had spent a good two hours in the imagination with Roman making sure it looked absolutely perfect. They had studied star charts and replicated the night sky to the best of their ability with the time they had and made sure the setting was in the middle of nowhere. Virgil would’ve liked if they’d managed to figure out the whole ‘movie theatre in the middle of nowhere’ concept, but he digressed. He was still happy with how it turned out, and this was the Imagination anyway- things almost never made sense.

“Virgil, this is beautiful,” Logan whispered, almost even choked up a little bit.

“Roman and I spent all afternoon on this,” Virgil nodded. “I owe him one.”

“Yet Roman would never have been able to replicate the night sky to this degree of accuracy if you hadn’t helped him,” Logan added. “Don’t tell him I said that, though. I can clearly see the personal touches you added to this. I absolutely adore it.”

Virgil hardcore blushed. “Thanks, Lo. Shall we head to the theatre?”

“After you.”

The walk to the theatre was only a few minutes long, but it was a few minutes of blissful silence as he appreciated the company of his boyfriend… hopefully soon-to-be fiance.

As they got to the theatre, Logan took the opportunity to be the gentleman and opened the door for him. Virgil walked through and held out his own arm again in an attempt at the domination of the gentleman role again. Logan relented and let his boyfriend take the lead.

They entered the screening room, which was completely empty save for them.

“Any preference on where we sit?” Virgil asked.

“Might we sit right in the middle? I think that’s a prime spot for optimal view.”

“I agree, middle it is.”

They quickly took their seats and Virgil conjured drinks- iced coffee for Logan in his favorite mug, and hot black coffee for himself. Logan settled into his chair, putting his arm around Virgil. Virgil slid closer to Logan and put his head on the other’s shoulder.

The opening of the documentary came on, and Logan immediately reacted with “I can confirm that I have not seen this documentary!”

Virgil laughed. “Thank god.”

As the film progressed, both sides settled in even closer to learn about the stars some more together. As time went on, the two continued to move closer and closer together, until Virgil turned their two chairs and the one on the other side of Logan into a couch so they could cuddle.

Virgil could tell that not only was this a documentary that the logical side hadn’t ever seen before, there was also content discussed that Logan had not known before. Looking up every so often, Virgil could see metaphorical stars (pun) in Logan’s eyes as he listened intently to every word spoken.

Everything had turned out perfect.

And as the credits rolled, Virgil knew it was time.

Logan sighed as he sat up from where he had been sitting, leaning against Virgil. “That was thoroughly fascinating, Virgil. I can’t believe you managed to find a new documentary!”

“Well, sometimes it just takes a little deeper searching to find what you need. The internet is a wonderful place sometimes.” Virgil sat up as well and stretched as his heart began to race.

“Thank you so much for this, Virgil. Oh, did you have anything else planned, or are we returning to the mindscape?” Virgil’s heart melted at the pure hope in Logan’s eyes, knowing the side wanted to stargaze more than anything. Thankfully, Virgil knew the other side very well.

“You really think I would create a nearly-perfect night sky and not give you the opportunity to stare at it for hours on end?” Virgil teased. “Don’t worry, love, that was the plan all along. Right after one other thing.”

“Oh?”

As his heart pounded relentlessly, Virgil almost chickened out, losing a good portion of the confidence he had built up over the course of the evening in a matter of milliseconds.

But pushing past the thoughts in his mind telling him not to do it, this is a horrible idea, he’s going to hate you- Virgil cleared his throat and began to talk.

“I know we talked a lot about this when the topic first came up, and we both agreed at the time that it was kinda unnecessary, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the last few months, about all sorts of things. About how much better my life has been since I left the dark sides. Since I joined this family. Since… I first went out with you.”

Virgil swallowed. “And I’ve realized that my life would be nowhere near as incredible as it is now if you hadn’t asked me to be with you. You have made my life, which was pretty shitty beforehand, actually mean something, when four years ago, I would’ve said to anyone who asked that I wished I didn’t exist. Thomas himself said that ‘it’s a pretty big deal when someone makes you enjoy something you’d normally dread’… especially if that something is life itself.

“I know you might still see this as an ‘unnecessary formality that we don’t need to pursue in order for our relationship to be whole’, but even then… I want this, even if it’s only to make you a promise of forever. I love you with all my being, Logan Sanders.”

The butterflies were gone.

Virgil pulled out the ring box and got down on one knee on the floor in front of Logan. “Will you marry me?”

He opened the box to reveal the ring he had put so much time and effort into summoning. It was a simple black band, with purple highlights, decorated with small white diamonds resembling stars, forming some of Logan’s favorite constellations.

Logan was stunned speechless for a few moments, and Virgil suddenly had an influx of overwhelming anxiety.

He’sgonnasaynohe’sgonnasaynohe’sgonna-

Then Logan went red and buried his face in his hands. “I should’ve seen this coming. I should’ve known this was going to happen.”

“What?” Virgil was very confused.

Logan lifted his head up and Virgil was greeted with one of the most genuinely amused smiles he’d ever seen on the other’s face. Logan then reached into his pocket and pulled something of his own out.

Another ring box.

Virgil’s mouth fell open. “Oh my god.”

“Only we could pull this off.”

Virgil then buried his face in his hands. “We’re so useless.”

They then looked at each other in the eye and broke out into hysterical laughter. Logan fell onto the floor beside Virgil as they leaned against each other, laughing harder than either of them could ever remember.

As Virgil started to attempt to compose himself, wiping a stray tear from his eye, he asked, “So is that a yes?”

Logan nearly started laughing again. “Yes, Virgil. That’s a yes.”

Composure regained, the two of them then launched into a hug, holding on as tight as possible.

Virgil only pulled away for a kiss, and then to slide the ring onto Logan’s ring finger. Logan then finally opened the ring box he had brought, showing Virgil the solid black ring band with a sparkling purple amethyst donning the middle he had chosen for him. Virgil nearly burst into tears at the sight. It was absolutely perfect.

Rings exchanged, they leaned in for another long, perfect kiss. Virgil wrapped his arms around Logan’s neck, and Logan wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist.

When they broke apart, Virgil was the one who spoke first. “Ready for that stargazing I promised?”

“More than anything.”

Hand in hand, the two newly engaged sides walked out of the theatre and over to the field Virgil had chosen as the perfect stargazing spot.

The rest of the evening would be perfect as they talked about the events that lead up to this. Logan would even share that it was, in fact, he who got Patton to cook dinner, having informed the moral side of his plans that afternoon just as Virgil had with Roman. Patton had no idea Virgil was also planning to propose (and Virgil realized the winks were probably aimed at Logan, not him).

Which also likely meant that Roman hadn’t known that Logan was planning to propose. The other two sides were in for quite a tale when they returned.

But for now, Logan and Virgil just laid down in the middle of the field, the perfect spot for optimal view of the stars, cuddling close together as they enjoyed each other's company.

Yeah, maybe the concept of the Sides getting married was pretty preposterous.

But when it comes down to the bare essentials, marriage was just a lifelong promise to be together for each other, no matter what.

And that was all they really needed.

----

AAAAH IT’S DONE

I HOPE YOU ALL LIKED THIS

I LOVE MY CHAOTIC GAY BOYS

Taglist (of one person):

@cefinitely-rolo bless your soul

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ginger-and-mint · 4 years

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Holiday Homes

One part Thanksgiving fic and one part interactive game, this is the next entry in my real-world holidays series with Ginger and Mint characters! I’m trying out something new with the interactive component -- info on how to participate is under the cut. C;

- - -

“You stop that!” Ryder gently knocked Si’s hand away from the array of ceramic dishes he had arranged neatly on hot plates on the kitchen counter. “We’ll be eating in less than half an hour!”

Si popped the spoonful of mac and cheese they’d managed to snag into their mouth. “Yeah,” they said impishly, “but I’m hungry now. And I’ve been enduring the delicious aromas of our cooking all morning! How could you deny me a little taste?”

“Like this.” Ryder snatched their spoon and dropped it into the heaping pile of dirty pots and pans in the kitchen sink. His tone wasn’t unkind, but Si could tell there was a touch of genuine frustration behind it. The poor man was good at hiding it when he was stressed out, but not quite good enough to fool Si.

They put a hand on his shoulder. “Can I do anything to help?”

Ryder sighed and shook his head. “Things are basically ready. I’m just going to clean up these dishes. Why don’t you go get changed before Grayson and Kara get here? I doubt that is what you’re planning to wear to either one of our Thanksgiving dinners.”

Si glanced down at their flour-smeared sweatshirt and jeans. “No,” they agreed. “I’ll be right back.” They wrapped an arm around Ryder -- who had managed to keep his pumpkin-colored sweater vest perfectly clean, of course -- and gave him a quick squeeze before racing off.

They ducked into Ryder’s bedroom long enough to snatch their hairbrush from where they'd left it on his dresser that morning. Then they continued down the hallway to their own bedroom, where they drew the curtains shut, flung open the closet door, and began the difficult process of deciding what to wear.

It would’ve been one thing if the year’s Thanksgiving plans had only been the casual afternoon Friendsgiving meal with Grayson and Kara. But Si's extended family was having a Thanksgiving dinner that evening as well, and they had been invited to come and to bring Ryder along with them.

Si had a feeling that the invitation had something to do with Ryder’s simmering stress, although they weren’t quite sure why. Ryder had met various members of Si’s family before, when they’d stopped by the bar to watch Si’s performances, and they had always seemed to get along fantastically.

In any case, Si was determined to do whatever they could to try to make the day a big success. And success, they firmly believed, started with dressing for the occasion.

They had originally planned to wear a shift dress printed with a vibrant pattern of fall leaves. Not only was it seasonally appropriate, but it was also loose-fitting -- an important consideration, Si thought, when one was planning to eat two Thanksgiving dinners in one day.

The fun pattern would be perfect for the casual afternoon meal, but Si had a feeling at least some of their family would expect the evening affair to be a little more formal. So they were also considering a striped burgundy turtleneck with a pair of comfortable slacks. That outfit would be a little more put-together, and even though it was form-fitting, the material was stretchy enough that it would be forgiving on a full belly.

Those were the two sensible choices. But “sensible” was not always Si’s strong point, and something in them was really feeling their best dark blue waistcoat and a pair of dress pants. The stiff fabric and close fit of that outfit made it a pretty bad choice for a day that revolved around eating, but Si couldn’t help contemplating it anyway.

They pulled the three outfits down from their closet and laid them out on the bed, trying to make up their mind...

How to Play:

At the end of each story segment, you’ll be given a choice for how the story should proceed. Vote for one of the options by sending the corresponding emoji!

You may vote by replying to this post or by sending me a non-anonymous ask:

Anonymous votes will not be counted. This is to prevent one person from sending multiple votes.

For those worried about privacy, I will not publish any voting asks, so your username will not be seen by anyone except me.

Voting will close at the time stated below the question at the earliest. (It may happen later if I get busy, so feel free to keep voting until the post has been edited to say that voting has closed.)

What should Si wear to their Thanksgiving dinners?

👗the loud and loose-fitting dress

👔the snazzy but constrictive waistcoat

👚the form-fitting but stretchy turtleneck

(Voting for this choice is now closed.)

#gnm holiday fics #interactive2 #ryder #si #I'm not sure how this is gonna go #but hopefully it'll be a fun experiment!

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camillemontespan · 5 years

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suitor no. 6 [interview with camille montespan]

@moonlightgem7 @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @burnsoslow @pug-bitch @jovialyouthmusic @ibldw-main @emichelle @sirbeepsalot @saivilo @notoriouscs @katedrakeohd @mskaneko @gardeningourmet @dcbbw @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @sawyeroakleyscowboyhat

Knot Magazine has launched its series to shadow each of the suitors competing for the Prince's hand in marriage. Last week, we followed Lady Hana who showed us how to master embroidery and play the piano. The week before, we were taught basic French, Italian and Spanish by Lady Kiara.

Which brings me to ask what our last suitor can teach us. For this issue, we introduce Camille Montespan.

Miss Camille Montespan. Not a Lady. Not a Countess. Just Miss.

In case you have been living under a rock this past month, Camille Montespan was found in New York and brought back to Cordonia to compete against the best of Cordonia's noble ladies for Prince Liam's hand in marriage. She is being sponsored by House Beaumont, which in itself is a huge deal and shows that of Bertrand Beaumont has faith in Camille, then surely she is the true winner.

Camille bursts out laughing at this assumption. 'Oh honey,' she says, wiping tears away. 'Bertrand Beaumont has no faith in me at all.'

... If this was a documentary, the sound of crickets would be played right now.

********

Camille is 27 years old and a native New Yorker. She was raised by her grandmother and was a waitress before she came to Cordonia. 'I didn't go to college,' she tells me as we sit down for coffee. 'We couldn't afford it. My grandma always felt really guilty about that but honestly, I didn't mind in the slightest. I preferred working.'

Working as a waitress.

She blinks at me. 'Yeah, it's actually not as easy as it looks. You got to keep customers happy, keep service flowing, prioritise your workload, stand on your feet for 12 hours and all with a smile on your face.'

Potential Queen right here, clearly.

Look, I like the girl so far. She's polite and friendly, quite warm actually. I want to get to know her. But surely she finds it crazy that she is in this competition?

'Oh, 100%,' she tells me. 'I know it's insane. It laughs in the face of Cordonian traditions. But you know what? Sometimes, change is a good thing. It means you're evolving.'

I'll admit she's quite wise.

**********

For our first night together, we are attending a ball at the palace. Having lived in the palace for a month now, I wonder if Camille has become adjusted to her new environment.

She rifles through dresses in the boutique as she considers my question.

'Kind of but in a weird way,' she replies. 'I still find it strange having a maid come to clean my room and everything. I tried to help her tidy once and she told me off, apparently I should let her do her job..'

I ask if she is quite self sufficient. Camille nods enthusiastically. 'Definitely. Always have been. I do things myself and just get on with it.'

This is a far cry to the other suitors who have staff on call. Countess Madeleine has someone who's only job is to sort out her wardrobe. As in, keep it tidy. Picking clothes up off the floor. Glamorous, right?

'I always think the best way to judge a person is how they treat service staff,' Camille divulges. 'Basically, if you're rude to a waiter, maid, cleaner, whatever, you're a dick.'

She is also the only suitor to use.. colourful language.

She draws out a gold silk dress. 'Ooh I like this.. What do you think?'

I look at the dress and can't deny it's beautiful. I tell her it would suit her colouring. She has the most luminous, caramel skin. Camille blushes and hugs the dress to her body. 'This is the chosen one!'

She is like a little girl playing dress up. Camille may have gotten used to the palace but clearly, having a boutique is still a novelty.

'When all I wear are jeans and oversized sweaters, sometimes it's fun to act out a fashion montage in here,' she whispers conspiratorially. She throws a feather boa around my neck and cries, 'Fashion montage!'

She stops when she notes my confusion. 'Oh god,' she says, a look of horror etched on her face. 'I've been hanging out with Maxwell Beaumont too much..'

*********

Despite being a commoner, Camille manages to look regal once she is ready for the ball. Her dark hair is pulled up into a chignon, her eye makeup is smokey and she wears a delicate gold arm cuff.

I tell her she looks really pretty and a bright smile spreads on her face. 'Thank you so much!'

We meet with Bertrand Beaumont, the Duke of Ramsford, and his brother Maxwell, before we traipse down to the ballroom. As we walk down the corridors, I hear Bertrand whispering rules to Camille. 'Dance with Prince Liam, smile always, don't drink too much, always be on your guard.'

I ask Maxwell what he thinks of Camille. He flashes me a smile. 'She's awesome,' he says. 'Really nice and she isn't like the other ladies in the competition. Like, I can actually talk to her without feeling judged. She's become my friend.'

She is actually the most relatable suitor in the competition which gives her an edge over the other ladies. But relatable isn't the only thing a queen should be.

When we enter the ballroom and greet the Prince, Camille dips into a curtsey and addresses him properly. She acts like she is in control. When he takes her by the hand and guides her to the middle of the room to begin the Cordonian Waltz, everyone watches.

She moves fluidly. It's clear she's been practicing. I look around the room and see the other suitors watching her with distaste, except for Lady Hana who is smiling.

I spot a dark haired man wearing a denim shirt in the corner. He is nursing a glass of whiskey, the only person in the room who has rejected champagne. He is also the only one not dressed in formal wear which is unusual. His eyes are fixed on Camille.

I find myself unable to stop watching him watching her. His eyes never leave.

It is only when the dance finishes and Camille and Prince Liam break apart that the man averts his eyes. The journalist in me knows there is a story here.

I join Camille who invites me to sit beside her. We are joined by Lady Hana and Maxwell, who is carrying a bottle of champagne.

'Drake, come join us!' Maxwell calls out.

The man in the denim shirt comes over and sits on the other side of Camille.

I decide to ask what he thinks of my interview subject. Does he think she is up to the job of becoming queen?

He looks surprised to be asked. 'Uh yeah, I guess so..' he answers.

Camille rolls her eyes. 'Such glowing feedback!' she teases.

Drake smirks and tosses back his whiskey. 'That's the best you're gonna get out of me, Montespan.'

Camille nudges his shoulder with her own and he smiles softly.

There is DEFINITELY a story here.

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

The next day, we are going to a barn raising. I don't know why but it seems to be an event to show that the suitors can get down and dirty.

Countess Madeleine feigns a headache. Duchess Olivia is keen to use an axe to chop wood -she told me in her own interview that she happiest when weilding a weapon.

Camille opts to wear denim shorts and a black vest with converse. 'I've never built a barn before but hey, first time for everything,' she tells me, pulling her hair into a ponytail.

I ask her what she thinks of her fellow suitors. She chews her lip thoughtfully. 'Hana is really kind,' she tells me. 'We got on instantly which is really nice. I was worried I wouldn't make any friends here but she and Maxwell have proved me wrong.'

I ask if Drake is a friend. She shrugs. 'I think so? It's hard to tell with him..'

I push on, saying they looked friendly at the ball last night. Camille quickly picks up her rucksack. 'Enough talking, let's build barns.'

*********

The sun is boiling and everyone is sweating. Camille takes out a bottle of water and hands me it, which is actually quite sweet. 'I've got one for myself,' she says.

We join the group. Prince Liam greets her enthusiastically. 'Are you ready to build a barn?' he asks.

'Let's give it a shot,' Camille answers. 'I've not been to the gym in forever though so maybe don't count on me for heavy lifting..'

'Don't worry, I got your back, Montespan.'

Ah, it's Drake. Or, Denim Boy who is Hopelessly In Love with Camille as I like to call him. I called it first folks.

Denim Boy is not wearing his denim shirt. In fact, dear reader, Denim Boy is shirtless.

Camille looks at him. Her face turns red and she looks away to speak to Maxwell but her eyes keep looking at Drake and his lack of a shirt.

Nobody else notices except me and him. I know he has noticed because he is starting to look distinctly proud of himself. He occasionally looks over at her with a smirk on his face.

Is this going to be an issue, I wonder? Camille is in the competition to marry Prince Liam and right now, she looks like she has forgotten Liam even exists. And he's trying to engage her in conversation right now!

Oh this is awkward. So awkward. I've never written a love triangle before.

Okay maybe I'm overthinking. Maybe this is not a love triangle. Maybe this is just me trying to find a twist for this article. Maybe I'm seeing things that aren't there.

'So, who wants to join Drake to help him pull beams?' Liam asks.

Remember how Camille mentioned she hadn't been to the gym in a while so she can't be counted on for heavy lifting?

Remember?

She volunteered to help Drake.

*********

I am umming and ahhing over whether to include this next part. If I don't include this, I am failing at my job. So, I will write this next part and you will keep an open mind about our last suitor.

Camille breaks rules.

Suitors are to be chaperoned at all times by their sponsor. It keeps them on the straight and narrow and their reputation intact.

But this suitor is different.

I heard her door shut at 11pm. We are staying next door to each other while I shadow her and I hear everything.

Naturally, I open my door quietly to see what is happening and sure enough, Camille has snuck out. I would like to say that she maybe left her room for a midnight snack but she is wearing a coat and is walking quietly.

At the end of the corridor, Drake appears.

It is my job as a journalist to report on what I see. And what I see is Camille sneaking out of her bedroom to go gallivanting with Denim Boy!

I suppose I was half right though. She is going for a midnight snack.

**********

I ask her the following morning if she slept well. She nods and pours me a cup of coffee. 'I did, did you?'

Oh I bet she did.

Reader, I am caught up in this drama! Oh its delicious!

'Did I hear you leave your room last night?' I ask casually.

She keeps a straight face. 'I didn't leave my room last night.'

I like to think we are becoming friendly but clearly, Camille is sticking to at least one of her chaperone's rules. She is on her guard.

We are due to attend afternoon tea with the suitors and Prince Liam. Camille admits to me that she has never been to an afternoon tea in her life. She looks embarrassed by this admission. My heart tugs for her.

If there is one thing that's obvious about this suitor competition, it's that it's each woman for herself. Backstabbing and bitching comes as a side dish to our macaroons and cakes, but Camille stays out of it, instead choosing to socialise with the more friendly suitors such as Hana and Penelope.

I see Lady Kiara is talking to Denim Boy who looks like he would rather be somewhere else. I notice that Camille keeps her eyes away from Drake and instead engages in conversation with Penelope about poodles.

It is interesting to be here. I am an outsider looking in. Prince Liam always speaks to Madeleine and Olivia, however whenever he gets a free moment, he manages to speak to Camille.

I watch as he takes his chance and slides his chair over to Camille and Penelope, greeting them both with smiles.

Penelope soon leaves the two of them, which only prompts Liam to lean in closer to Camille. He is looking at her like she is only girl in the world. He pours her another cup of tea and hands her the cup; their fingers brush. Camille quickly draws away and sips her tea.

She is his favourite. I can see that now; everyone can. I look around and see Madeleine primed to leave her conversation with her mother so she can pounce on the prince. I see Olivia settled back in her chair, a glass of champagne held to her lips - Olivia told me she can’t stand tea- and her eyes are fixed on Camille and Liam.

Liam calls over Drake who joins the two of them, his jaw set. He stands behind Camille’s chair so he is facing Liam head on. Only I see his fingers brush the top of Camille’s shoulders, touching her bare skin.

Camille soon stands up and I see her make her way to the restroom. Liam looks after her. I seize my chance to steal a moment with the prince and Denim Boy.

I take Camille’s seat, introduce myself and Liam says hello to me with a warm smile on his face. He is a kind man, as everyone knows. He has laughter lines and his lips are always upturned in the corners so it looks like he is always smiling.

‘What do you think of Camille Montespan as your potential wife?’ I ask. I see Drake look away and he clears his throat, making an excuse that he needs to speak to Maxwell about something.

‘I think she’s got a very good chance,’ Liam says coyly. ‘From what I’ve seen, she’s conducted herself with grace and she is kind to everyone she meets. If I’m honest, I am actually in awe of her.’

I ask him to explain. He grins. ‘Well, she’s not a noble. She’s been thrown in the deep end, having to learn about Cordonia, our traditions, etiquette, royalty.. I imagine it hasn’t been easy for her and I think it’s a true testament to her character that she has managed to excel at everything she has been presented with. Clearly, she is a dedicated and intelligent woman.’

I wonder how often he gets to spend time with her. If she’s a favourite, surely Liam sees her all the time?

He laughs. ‘Hardly. To be honest, whenever I ask her to meet me in the evenings, she is always busy or tired.’

My mind flicks back to when she snuck out of her bedroom but I don’t say anything. Do I feel a sense of loyalty to this woman?

I am about to ask for more of his thoughts but I’m interrupted by Madeleine who has approached him. I take my leave and go up to my room to take notes.

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

That evening, I am sat with Camille at the window of her room. She is dressed in silk pyjamas and has her legs tucked up underneath her. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun and her face is free of makeup. She looks youthful but also quite tired. Clearly, this past month has been exhausting for her but she takes it all in her stride.

I ask what kind of princess she would like to be. Camille exhales. ‘That’s a loaded question..’ she says quietly. ‘God, I feel like I’m a child again, you know how some kids want to be princesses when they grow up? Um, I guess I want to be fair. Fair and kind. I also want to make a difference.’

Her voice sounds off.

Is she counting down to the ball when Liam makes his decision?

‘My whole life will change if he picks me,’ she tells me. ‘I’m actually really nervous. Is that silly? I just keep thinking, here is this man who could pick you, who has told you that he can offer you the world, but then you catch yourself wondering if you really want it.’

She breaks off, knowing she has said too much. I ask if she is having doubts because she isn’t a noble and this is a completely different world. A fairytale.

Camille nods, looking away from me to look out the window. ‘Yeah. That’s it,’ she whispers. ‘It’s because I’m not noble.’

She doesn’t sound convinced.

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

Camille turns out to be really good at sailing boats. She also rides horses well and can dance like she’s been waltzing since a young age. In this short space of time, Camille has learned how to excel at every task she’s presented with and Bertrand Beaumont is starting to be more complimentary about her whenever I see him.

‘At first, she was like unformed clay,’ he tells me seriously as we watch her ride one of the palace horses. ‘But I have moulded her to be good at everything. She is challenging ideas that commoners can’t do what we do. She is a wild card. A dark horse.’

He sounds like he likes her now. Bertrand chuckles. ‘I do, actually. She is good friends with my brother now and I always admire people who are keen to learn. At first, she was a little flippant but I think she decided to just buckle down and get on with it.’

I ask if he thinks she will win the competition. He shrugs and flashes me a wide smile. ‘I have no idea,’ he answers. ‘But that is a stark contrast to when I first met her and I thought, ‘oh dear god no.’

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

Camille dances beautifully tonight. She is wearing a green silk dress and her hair is tousled around her shoulders. I watched her get ready and she spritzed her hair with coconut spray that smelled delicious. For fun, she spritzed my hair too, and joked, ‘Don’t give away my hair secret!’

She danced with Maxwell, who twirled her around and they laughed constantly. I am aware of her secret shadow who is sitting in a corner, his eyes on her the whole time. I decide to join him.

Drake is wearing a suit. For once, he is dressed up which makes a nice change. He looks good. Really good. He is still drinking whiskey though, but hey, baby steps.

I ask why he doesn’t ask Camille to dance. He reddens and tosses back his whiskey. ‘I can’t dance,’ he tells me bluntly. ‘Plus she would only say no.’

Camille wouldn’t say no. Not because she likes him but because she isn’t rude. Of course she would say yes.

I tell him so and he smirks. ‘Trust me, it’s better this way.’

Liam soon interrupts Camille and Maxwell. Camille is handed to Liam and the two of them waltz around the room. I see Drake clench his glass. This whole tortured romantic persona is starting to grate. I want to tell him to just ask her to dance. But to do so would ruin this article. I am here to profile Camille and her efforts to win Liam’s affections, which she is doing. I am not here to encourage a love triangle, no matter how much I see this being the situation.

Camille bursts out laughing at something that Liam says. It’s a real throaty laugh and it makes some courtiers turn to look at her. Even when she isn’t meaning to, Camille commands attention.

That is what a princess and future queen needs to do.

Drake stands up and leaves the table without saying goodbye. He leaves the ballroom. His whiskey glass is still half full; I pick it up and sniff. It’s incredibly strong.

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

The following night, we are staying over at Applewood. The day was pleasant and Camille helped plant an apple tree at the orchard, flashing a warm smile to the cameras. The public are there and applaud. Out of all the suitors, she is the only one to crouch down and give the children cuddles.

I can see her winning this competition.

I was later back to my room as I was enjoying a drink at the hotel bar with Bertrand. He is actually quite fun once you get to know him. I now have an invitation to the next Beaumont Bash in my pocket and I will be sure to report on everything I see.

As I walk back to my room, I see a man I haven’t seen before running towards me, a look of sheer terror on his face. He has a black eye. I try to stop him but he ignores me.

I get to my room and hear crying from next door.

Concerned, I am about to knock on Camille’s door, but I’m stopped by the sound of a male voice inside, murmuring. I don’t knock. I can’t ruin her privacy.

This is when this article gets complicated. I want to report on everything I come across but to do so is an extreme violation of Camille. The woman agreed to meet me so I can profile her, not to air her dirty laundry.

Which is why I didn’t listen to the conversation next door. But I will phone my editor tomorrow and speak to her, telling her about my dilemma.

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

My editor wants me to report on everything. She wants my honest opinion If I don’t, I am lying to Cordonia who should know the type of woman Camille is.

This is what I think about Camille.

She is kind. She is warm and has no hidden agenda; what you see is what you get with her. She will happily chat to you and is interested in what you have to say. She cares about Cordonia already and wants to make a difference. She is intelligent and hasn’t been swept up in this grand lifestyle. Her feet remain firmly on the ground.

The next morning, we leave Applewood. Camille’s eyes are red rimmed and she looks exhausted, choosing to look out of the window of the car as we drive back to the palace. When we arrive back, she turns to me and apologises.

‘I’m sorry for being quiet,’ she says. ‘I just had a hard night last night. Someone got into my room and tried… well, it wasn’t nice. But it’s been dealt with.’

I’m alarmed to hear that someone got into her room but she waves away my concern. ‘It’s fine. I got help. But anyway, I’m sorry for being so boring today. I’m going to have a rest and we can meet in an hour? Palace bar? We can have wine, my treat.’

Am I about to have girly chats with Camille? Is it weird that I’m excited?

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

She looks refreshed when we meet at the palace bar. She has ordered a bottle of wine and pours me a large glass. ‘How long have you been a journalist?’ she asks.

I’m surprised that she is the one asking the questions. I tell her and she asks more about me, which is quite nice actually. We talk like girlfriends sharing wine after a day at work, not like a journalist and her interview subject.

‘Thank you for profiling me,’ she says, smiling. ‘It’s been great to get to know you.’

I am about to say the same but we’re interrupted by Denim Boy, who has entered the bar. He gives me a nod and he nudges Camille on the arm. ‘Can we talk?’ he asks.

She nods and throws me an apologetic smile.

I watch them both leave and I see Drake place his hand on her lower back as he guides her away.

They look like a couple. They look more like a couple than Camille and Liam ever have and that is one thing I need to be really honest about.

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

As this article went to press, Camille was told to leave Cordonia.

Pictures came out of her and the man I saw running down the corridor at Applewood in her room. Camille was clad in her underwear while he had her in an embrace. The pictures were broadcasted around Cordonia and Camille left the palace in humiliation.

I’m confused about this. It doesn’t make sense to me. I had never seen Camille ever speak to the man before and she never mentioned him.

The photo was taken from outside so clearly, someone was installed outside the palace and spied on her. That reeks of suspicion. Who would want to spy on Camille?

I wonder what this means for her and Drake.

Not Liam, no. Because I genuinely feel, now that the competition is over and Camille is no longer at the palace, I feel that she never had feelings for him. I think she liked him, of course she did, but there was no spark. It doesn’t matter now anyway; he is now engaged to Madeline.

But there was spark with her and Drake, who I lovingly named Denim Boy.

What will become of the two of them? Camille will no doubt go back to New York and Drake will remain in the shadows of the ballroom. Shame. I found myself rooting for them.

And that is my honest opinion.

#trr fanfic #drake walker

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readerficsbyhyaku · 4 years

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Blank Slate (Kazumichi Irie x Reader - Soulmate AU) Part 1

summary

You do not remember anything about who you are and what you did, and your memories start the moment you are taken in by Sybil’s forces, as an exception. Your Crime Coefficient cannot be measured, yet your hue can. Locked up like an Enforcer, you work as a consultant for the Criminal Investigations Department inside of the Public Security Bureau.

In this society where a complex neuro-psychological system rules the people, there exists a mystery that it cannot solve - soul marks. You were to meet the new team of Investigators and Enforcers when fate falls upon you. How will you react to something the system never accounted for in the first place ?

author’s note

I couldn’t find any fics with my baby Irie so… Here’s my try at writing one. It will be bad, since i don’t know how to write anymore, but here is my attempt at *plot*. Yeah, that and two stupid cliché ideas fused together because why not ? Hope you enjoy !

There WILL BE SPOILERS for Psycho Pass s3 so be warned !

You woke up to a voice in your room. It was your AI assistant, like everybody had nowadays.

« It’s 7 o’clock and we are Monday, your hue is Coral Pink and the weather will be sunny today ! »

Not that it mattered very much to you, since you couldn’t really go out.

« You have an appointment at 8 o’clock today with Division 1, in the Public Security Bureau’s offices. Don’t be late ! » the voice chirped again.

You sat up and rubbed your eyes to get most of the fatigue out. You weren’t used to getting up this early. At least, not anymore. It’s been a while since you’ve been sollicited by the Bureau, even though you were living inside the NONA tower. Jumping out of bed, you remove your clothes and proceed to take a shower to further clear your mind.

« Your energetic intake yesterday was 2000 kilocalories. I recommend a breakfast adding up to 280 kilocalories ! »

« Make it 300 » you mumbled, rubbing your scalp with shampoo. « And i want eggs, bacon, salad, french toast flavours in it. And coffee »

If your assistant could’ve judged you, they would have. You knew you needed to eat something solid before going to meet with the inspectors and whatnot. Some cases were nastier than others, and even though you doubted to be consulted that early on, it never hurt to be prepared. You had encountered a few unpleasant surprises before.

You ate your machine-made breakfast while still drying your hair and body, then went up to the mirror to dress up. There, you saw the bandaid covering your soul mark was peeling off. With a sigh, you rip it off neatly and fetch a new one, your eyes barely lingering on the name there. You didn’t really… care for it. As far as you remember you always had it, on the left side of your torso, on your ribs. Soul marks were not something Sybil could explain, yet it had to deal with them, because it couldn’t get rid of them.

Numerous studies had shown that Psycho-Passes could affect each other via soul marks, and deteriorate. Other studies showed that soulmates that were together had lighter hues, and could recover from clouded Psycho-Passes. So all in all, Sibyl recommended you find your soulmate, and there were a few methods to do so. You could search their name, since it was written onto you. They could also make a check to see if two people’s hues followed the same patterns, but considering area stress and about a ton other factors, it wasn’t a reliable way.

You hadn’t searched for your soulmate, or read any info about them, or even accepted Sybil’s services to find them. You figured it would only hurt you more to know who they were, or weren’t, since you didn’t have the freedom to meet with them.

You covered the name with another bandaid, the cream color a bit off from your skin. You didn’t need to cover it, but you felt better not having someone’s name branded there, like you belonged to them. But even with it covered, you knew what name it was. It had been impossible for you to evade the sight of your own body for so long, and when you caved in and read, you only felt about as lost as before. It was just a name. It’s not like you could guess what type of person was behind it.

The clock showed it was 10 minutes before your appointed meeting, so you dressed up quickly in a pair of thighs, formal shorts, a dress shirt and a vest. Right before exiting, you slipped inside a pair of black combat boots. The door slided, locked behind you and you headed towards the upper floors, where the meeting was held.

You arrived in the office, and everybody was there, or at least you assumed so. You were 7 in total so there must have been 4 Enforcers, and 2 inspectors. Excluding Karanomori Shion, whom you already knew, and Shimotsuki Mika the chief inspector. You greeted everybody with a curt nod, bracing yourself for the exclusion, and reminding yourself to not get attached to any one of them, especially the Enforcers. They had a bad tendency to get killed here, and you didn’t want to relive that. You had seen a few other generations of the division one staff, and only a few left unscathed, if you could even call it that way.

“Now that everybody’s here, I’d like to present myself and my colleague. His name is Kei Mikhail Ignatov, and I’m Arata Shindo. We’re very excited to work with you !”

The shorter of the two men was the one who spoke, his yellowish eyes glittering underneath his fluffy brown hair. He looked so… innocent. The other inspector named Kei was taller, sported a short cut of black hair and felt definitely colder… Especially with those blue eyes. What an odd duo, you thought to yourself.

The Enforcers then decided to say their names. The only other woman from the lot was Kisaragi Mao, and the timid-looking red haired boy stuttered out a “Hinakawa Sho, pleasure to meet you”. The older, white-haired man said he was Todoroki Temma, and pointed his thumb toward a grumpy-looking tall man with a goatee and an earring. You already felt like these two were troublemakers, and you sighed internally.

“And this guy’s name is Kazumichi Irie”

What

A loud buzzing noise had overcome everything else when you heard the name. Your mind was reeling, you knew that name, you knew that name ! You felt engulfed in a fog, everything veiled around you but that, and that loud, shrill sound in your ears. Heat rushed to your head, numbness to your body, and a physical pang of pain to your gut.

All the members of the first division were looking at you, expecting you to maybe say your name and present yourself, but you were too stunned to do so. Simultaneously, their watches activated and warned them.

“Attention, a hue is degrading quickly in your vicinity. It has exceeded authorized values. Please take action.”

The ringing in your ears became unbearable, and with a quick “excuse me” you rushed out of the office towards your room.

A few instants later, a call came in from Karanomori to one of the inspectors, and addressed everybody present.

“Sorry about that, she’s a bit special. I’ll do the presentations for her since she couldn’t.”

She pitched in your name with a drag of her cigarette.

“The alert is normal, as I said, she’s a bit weird. She’ll tell you more if she want to, but basically she’s confined like Enforcers are. She’s not a criminal per se, but her Crime Coefficient cannot be measured.”

Eyes widened in the room at that revelation.

“Her hue can be measured, as indicated by the alert, but it fluctuates a lot and usually settles in the clear tones, so no worries. She’s just an oddball and Sybil decided to keep her close because of that. She also has Mentalist abilities, so feel free to ask her for help about your ongoing cases.”

Behind her screen, Shion sighed again. Why were you letting her do all the hard work ? You’d have to repay her for that.

Back into your room, you frantically undressed and ripped the bandaid you so carefully and casually applied earlier, this time scrutinizing your mark in the mirror. Studying each letter, you compared it to the name you were just given and there was no doubt left. It was the same name. Fear, dread and anguish washed over you as the information settled in, like a stone in your gut.

“Of all people he had to be an Enforcer, of all people he had to be an Enforcer !”

You held your head in your hands and wanted to curl into a ball. Way to make first impressions too…

Feeling a bit cold, you put on the oversized sweater you wore during the weekend and laid on your bed, retracting under the covers. Why now ? Who is he ? Did you really want to know ? A myriad of questions rushed into your mind, until you managed to calm down a bit and popped your head back outside of the confines of your duvet. You checked your hue and yep, it was definitely darker. You let out a sigh and thought about the whole situation. What a shock, to hear that name out of all of names. As if sensing your unease, the marking on your ribs itched a bit, reminding itself to you in a way it had never before.

Your watch buzzed and you took the call, it was from Shion.

“What are you doing ? I had to present you to the new inspectors myself. God, what happened ?”

“Yeah sorry, I was feeling kinda shy meeting the new team” you lied “I’ll tell them I’m sorry tomorrow”

“Tomorrow ?!” Shion’s voice screeched at you “There is a case today, and if you’re not in my lab in 30 minutes to hear about it I’ll send someone drag you there !”

Gosh, she wasn’t cutting you any slack.

“Please ? I’d risk clouding their hues with mine” you pleaded, showing the crimson indicator for your mental state. The analyst narrowed her eyes.

“You know as well as I do that your hue fluctuates a lot because of your emotions. So either you tell me what was really the problem” she took a drag of her cigarette “or it was just a temporary stress and you’ll handle just fine in 30 minutes” she ended with a smile.

Defeated, you grumbled an “Okay” and ended the call. You didn’t really have a choice, did you ? You didn’t want to tell anyone about your soulmate. You didn’t even want to admit it yourself ! But for the sake of Shion and the trouble you had given her all those past years and today, you crawled out of your bed and prepared to go out, again.

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efortmanteau · 5 years

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TMA Headcanons

I sort of spoiled myself in terms of headcanons for The Adventure Zone, so now I try to finish/get caught up on podcasts and form impressions entirely in my head before introducing visual ideas via fanart. And lately I've been focusing on The Magnus Archives SOOOO here we go:

My headcanons for The Magnus Archives. A few were originally written after listening through s2. I've added my s3 thoughts below characters or in a new section. I'm only 3 episodes in to s4 so no spoilers after the end of s3.

Jon (I only recently discovered that there's no H in his spelling, whoops) aka The Archivist - Obviously Jon doesn't really have fun ever, so the main word I think of is 'austere.' He's a pale white guy with dark hair and greyish or brownish eyes who basically always dresses formally--collared shirts, slacks, maybe even vests, usually neutral colors. He's thin, but not fit--just the type of guy who doesn't put on weight since he doesn't focus much on food. Rectangular face, maybe has facial hair… I haven't decided, but if he does, it's like a goatee/mustache scenario that's always well trimmed. In my mind, he's young to mid 30s, but could look older. When he's scared or disshevelled though, he looks a lot younger. I think he's also kind of short, maybe 5'8", so he keeps really good posture to make up for it. Ben Whishaw is almost right, but he'd have to be homelier. S3 updates: Not really any? Although apparently it's Jon without an H. I've confirmed that he looks older than he is since the spider picturebook episode (which I would love Don Hertzfeld to animate, perhaps with assistance from Jules Feiffer who is 90 gd years old… that episode is so vivid in my head). Also I forgot Jon has worm… scars? Pock-marks? Not sure how that works, but you probably don't see them much, given I can't imagine him in short sleeves or shorts, although maybe he has a few on his neck visible pretty frequently, above collars. I'm was pleased to learn he is canonically asexual, but not all that surprised. Something about the way he interacted with Georgie in her apartment had me wondering… maybe it reminds me of me and my ex (I'm the asexual one, my ex isn't, but we still get along).

Martin - I immediately imagined Marty (Terry Gross Waters-Waters SAT tutor in Gayle) when I learned more about soft, sweet lad Martin, so Matty Cardarople has always kind of been in my head. That is probably just a similar name situation, but it's kind of perfect. Since Martin said he wasn't the smallest of guys but still made it into a basement window, I imagine he's kind of tall and chubby, but doesn't seem tall, slouchy, not the most confident person. Sort of a Neville Longbottom situation (before the glow-up). I think somewhere between Matty and Nick Robinson is around the correct appearance: a little more clean shaven and formally dressed than Matty often is with shorter hair (but still flippy), but softer than Nick is. This guy wears sweaters a lot. I guess he's canonically 29 at the end of s1--I had imagined him in his mid 20s somewhere, but I guess he was pretending to be older since he claimed he had a master's degree. S3 updates: Martin is probably the one who was most easy for me to imagine. I never really thought of his fixation on Jon to be a crush, which I'm really intrigued by in terms of character development. I was parsing it more of Martin being a bit of a subservient character, that he was like that to everyone in the office, but we only saw it from Jon's POV as the primary narrator. If I do a re-listen, I'll be very interested to pick out some Martin/Jon moments now that I have a different context.

Sasha (or maybe Sascha) - I sort of had Sally Donovan from BBC's Sherlock in mind initially. I tried to stray away from that and looked up "half black actress." I picked out Zawe Ashton without even realizing that she had in fact played Sally (in one episode, so not her main actress) because of her hair and skin and the fact that her face is pleasant, but not the typical hyper-button baby doll face that some actresses have. Sasha has natural hair with light curls (sometimes straightened). I originally pictured a small afro, but I think in s2, they refer to her as having long hair, so I guess not? I'm also not clear if that was Not-Sasha imitating her, or just straight up not looking like real-Sasha at all. She's slim, pretty posh/minimalist in style--grey herringbone peacoat, umbrella, boots. I imagine she's half Russian heritage-wise, since is a common Russian diminutive for Aleksandra. I would put her in the 25-27 age range. S3 updates: I caught on to Not-Sasha (partially because I saw the name in the voice actor credits, whoops), but I think I also caught something in Lottie's flat affect that clued me in. I thought that the imposter was just good at disguise, not that people had been cursed to forget what real Sasha looked like, so Melanie's introduction and take on Sasha/Not-Sasha threw me off a bit. I don't remember if the "long hair" comment was for real- or Not-Sasha. But I don't have any headcanons about Not-Sasha… just that she looks nothing like the original.

Tim - In my head Tim is the tallest main character, maybe 6'2", and pretty fit. He's imposing at first glance, but since he's so congenial and laid back (at least in s1 before Jon totally pisses him off) everyone who knows him knows he's a nice, fun guy. He's black, with fairly dark complexion, short hair, clean shaven. He probably wears sweaters too, but like… the thinner kind. None of this bulky knit from grandma that Martin rocks. I first think of Alan from Russian Doll (Charlie Barnett), but darker, just black instead of more mixed. I'd say he's around Jon's age. S3 updates: RIP in pepperinos. I guess him being fit is not unreasonable since he is… canonically? (does Alex and Jonny joking about it make it canonical) an outdoorsy adventurer. I certainly missed his friendly nature, but my headcanons didn't really change. He just looked a lot more tired up until the end of s3.

Elias - He is older than the rest of them, I would guess in his 40s or 50s, but given that it's canon that he rose in the ranks kind of quickly, maybe he's not that old after all. I don't really have a good mental picture of him, maybe because I can't differentiate his voice from John's a lot of the time until I piece the context together. In my mind he has a beard and mustache though, kind of full, and maybe dirty blonde hair that's greying a bit. S3 updates: I wouldn't be surprised if he carried a cane that was actually a sword or a gun (I'm American, so having a gun seems very easy to me, so I'm not sure if that would be rare in England). Also, did I hear something about having a grey bun? Maybe I'm completely confusing it with something else, but I'm chuckling about man bun Elias.

Michael - Well, he isn't human… but he looks kind of like a really pale guy who is mishapen and thus wearing a lot of clothing at first glance? He probably wears a lot of clothes so you can't really make him out under the trench coat, scarf, hat, etc. (I might be confusing him with someone else). I think it's canon that his hands are large and maybe have too many bones. For some reason, Michael reminds me of tourmalinated quartz--black and white for the most part, striations cutting through the clearer crystal--sort of like a metaphor for how he kind of… dimension hops? Ends up where he isn't supposed to? I imagine striations of his appearance sort of blip in and out when you look at him based on the static he causes on recordings. S3 updates: I now know that he was an assistant to Gertrude. I guess my idea of his human form is basically the same color and demeanor, just not other-worldly in proportions and bone count. Probably the tall gangly type of white guy. ALSO I guess he's kind of Helen now…? I'll do a separate one for Helen.

---BREAK to add characters I didn't write about until the end of s3---

Basira - I assume she is a Muslim woman, based on her name. I imagine she wears a hijab. I picture her as Middle-Eastern, perhaps Iranian, but she could also be black (there are a fair amount of black Muslims in America, not sure if it's common in England). Other than the hijab, she's not very feminine in her styling. Being on the force probably means you want pretty functional, utilitarian garments. I don't remember if she talked in great detail about how she joined the police, whether it was straight from school, but in my mind she's late 30s.

Daisy - I think I recall she has a back tattoo? She's a murderer so she has a tough air about her, but she's also a subtle murderer, so nothing about her screams that she's dangerous… you just get that feeling, you know? I imagine a white lady, short blonde hair, blue eyes. Kind of like Brienne of Tarth, but more plain than ugly. She's maybe early to mid 40s. I'm not sure if her relationship with Basira is supposed to be romantic or not. I kind of prefer this weird closeness that doesn't always equate to trust given their specific experiences. Regardless, I imagine they are around the same age.

Melanie - Melanie is probably the youngest, early to mid 20s. Typical build and height, maybe a little chubby, but not unable to climb fences or anything (gotta hunt them ghosts). She has a short, asymmetrical bob, dark hair, but part is dyed a bright color of pink, purple, maybe green. I imagine she has a go-to windbreaker that has some neon colors.

Helen - I'm so sad that we had to lose Michael to gain Helen. I really love the Spiral and the characters we've met who are involved with them. Helen in my mind was a badass realtor, ready to close a deal, very driven… and that carried over into becoming SpiralHelen. She sort of outsmarted it with the locked door, didn't she? I can't imagine that's very common for humans/avatars to get the better of their entities. She seems really strong willed, so I'm excited to see where she goes as a human who is becoming an avatar. I think her personality translates into her being 40-something but like lowkey hot? She probably rocks a suit with a skirt in bold colors that men's wear usually doesn't offer (all over red suit, tailored to her, pumps, straight brown hair, nice makeup). I'm not sure how the Spiral would affect her… maybe her angles just get a little more pronounced? She's probably not yet to the point of disfiguration that Michael was anyway.

Georgie - She is like a terrier who will bark at a big dog because they don't know to be afraid of it (or… how to be afraid of it, in her case). She is short, 5'2" or less (I just remembered that a lot of the listeners probably use metric measurements, so sorry for that, but I'm not going to bother converting). I imagine she is cute--she dresses up for her dates to Hungarian restaurants (my favorite detail omg girl get it) and wants to look hot, but really she can't get away from cute. Brown curly hair, big brown eyes, button nose. But resting bitch face… gotta ward off those catcalls and get taken seriously somehow.

Jergen? I can’t spell, it’s Jurgen - Jowly white guy. Wispy caramelly colored hair that's going white. Probably pretty tall, which I'm sure what an annoyance in those tunnels.

Gertrude - At first glance, just some old white lady. But after you get to know her, you realize she can probably murder you and is nowhere near as frail as you think. Curly, wiry grey hair.

#tma #the magnus archives

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roselukes · 5 years

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2800 Miles - Ch 4 - l.h.

Previously

Summary: Luke knows what he wants, but he also knows he can’t have it

Tag List: @sassy-asht0n @happycrimiscalum @rosesarered516 @hoe4hemmo @heartbreakashton94 @climatehood @calumspeachy @dukehoods @holidayhood @wrappedaroundcal @mistletoemichael @plainwhiteluke @irwinkitten @hereforlukescruff @astroashtonio @catchinqcalum @irwinvalentines @hollyjollyhood @biggestslutforcalum @calumhampton @angelmikeyy @hotmessmichael @curlyhairedpopstars @meloncal @lukeschestnuts @thecashtonexpress @calsjackets @boytoynamedcalum @alyssarester @ssophisticated-simplicityy @calistajs @merryashmas

Disclaimer: plot was inspired by the app Choices’ story The Royal Romance

The next morning, Gwen woke with a start. Michael was knocking repetitively on her door. “Gwen, come on. You’re gonna be late. We have so much to do today!” Michael groaned.

“Okay, okay, I’m up.” Gwen sighed, rolling out of bed. She had gotten to bed late after her time with Luke, but she wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Michael entered her room and went to the closet.

“Okay, the derby is today. You don’t have to dress very fancy, it might even help your image if you dress like a commoner, but a rich commoner.” Michael explained as he looked through her clothes. Gwen joined him at the closet and looked at her clothes.

“This.” She said, grabbing a long-sleeve crewneck and a white vest. She walked to the dresser and pulled out a pair of leggings. “Go away so I can change.”

“I wouldn’t mind staying.” Michael joked, sending her a wink.

“Mike, I’m serious.” Gwen sighed and crossed her arms.

“Fine, I’ll be right outside.” Michael rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. Gwen got dressed and pulled on her knee high boots before putting on her makeup. “Gwen, hurry up.”

“Shut up, I’m putting my face on.” Gwen rolled her eyes and applied chapstick instead of lipgloss. “I’m ready now.” She huffed and walked out to Michael.

“Did you even brush your hair?” Michael asked, looking at her.

“Nope.” She flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder and walked down the stairs.

“You’re killing me, Gwen. You’re supposed to win this, and you can’t do that with snarly hair.”

“Yes, I can. Just watch me.” Gwen giggled and walked out to the limo. Michael shook his head and held the door open for her. She slid in and adjusted her vest. Michael got in and gave the driver the address.

“Alright, so, you’ll see the press today. They’re going to want to talk to you, so you need to make sure you aren’t creating a bad image of yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah. Image is everything.” Gwen rolled her eyes.

“This is serious, Gwen. The press is your only way of making sure the townspeople are supporting you.” Michael crossed his arms. “You should also try to create some alliances with the other suitors.”

“How can I do that when they’re all under Alyssa’s thumb anyways?”

“Get them out. Empathize with them. Make them see how much of a cunt Alyssa is.” Michael scoffed.

“You don’t like her either?” Gwen raised an eyebrow.

“I hate her. She used to live in the castle with Luke and she wouldn’t let him hang out with us. He always had to spend time with her.” Michael rolled his eyes. “She’s a stuck up bitch that thinks she can get away with anything, just because she suffered a tragedy.”

“What tragedy?” Gwen asked, looking at Michael.

“I’ll tell you later. We’re here. Knock ‘em dead.”

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

“No, I have to go to my own spot. You just need to go find the white tents. Good luck with the press and have fun watching the horses.” Michael said as he opened the door.

“Bye, Michael.” Gwen rolled her eyes and got out of the limo, the press immediately surrounding here.

“Woah, Jesus.” Gwen mumbled, shielding her eyes from the flashing lights.

“Lady Guinevere, how are you liking Sydney?” One reporter asked.

“It’s absolutely beautiful. I’ve never seen views as exquisite as the ones here.” Gwen smiled softly.

“Why do you think you’re the one the prince will choose?” Another asked.

“Prince Luke and I get along wonderfully, and he needs someone by his side who doesn’t suck the life out of him.”

“Who are you wearing today?”

“Uh, I don’t actually know. The vest and the leggings are from Victoria’s Secret.” Gwen laughed softly. “I’m not one for designer clothes.”

“Why do you think you’ll be the best queen?”

“I listen to the voice of the people. I wouldn’t have to live with the policies, but they would. So, they need to get a say in them.” Gwen answered. “I’m here for the people, not the title.”

“You’re a strong representation of the working class. Thank you, Lady Guinevere.”

“Please, call me Gwen. Guinevere is too formal.” Gwen smiled and walked away from the press. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked around. She couldn’t see any white tents or a sign that showed the way. She shook her head and walked toward the stables, hoping to find someone who could direct her. “Hello?” She called into the stables, but the only reply was the neighing of horses. She walked in completely and looked around. “Hello?” She called again. She sighed and looked at the horses. “Do any of you know where I can go?” She asked, walking up to a gray horse. She rubbed her hand against the horses nose. “You sure are a quiet one.” She smiled, letting the horse nuzzle against her hand.

“I didn’t know you spoke horse.” Gwen jumped slightly and turned to look at the voice.

“Luke. What are you doing here?” Gwen smiled and looked at him.

“I needed a minute away from the press. They’re always just talking and talking and talking.”

“Well, you’re the prince. Everyone wants to talk to you.” Gwen walked over to him.

“They asked me about you. They called you the ‘Mystery Woman.’” Luke chuckled. “But, you’re no mystery to me.” He wrapped his arms around her waist.

“That’s what you think.” Gwen giggled and pressed her lips to his. Luke pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. “Mm, we shouldn’t. Someone could see us.”

“I wish I could show the world how much I care about you.” Luke whispered, rubbing his thumb along her cheek.

“Luke..” Gwen sighed. “You know we can’t do that. We may not even end up together.”

“We will.” Luke pressed a kiss to her forehead. Gwen took a step back as the stable doors opened and the jockeys walked in. “We should get out there.” Luke smiled.

“I’m supposed to go to the white tents, but I couldn’t find them.”

“They’re right in front of the tracks. I’ll be in the pink tents right behind you.” Luke smiled and squeezed her hand gently before walking out of the stables. Gwen smiled to herself and walked out of the stables, toward the white tents. “Hey, Gwen?” Luke called behind him.

“Yes, your highness?”

“I’ll see you at the picnic.” He winked and walked up the steps to his tent. Gwen giggled and walked to her spot under the white tent next to Hattie.

“Where were you?” Hattie asked, looking at Gwen.

“I got lost and ended up at the stables.” Gwen shrugged. “One of the jockeys had to tell me where to go.”

“I was beginning to think you left.” Hattie smiled.

“She should’ve. It’s only the second day, and you’re already getting lost.” Alyssa rolled her eyes.

“Fuck off, Alyssa.” Gwen said in a cheery voice. Hattie covered her mouth to keep from laughing.

“You’ll never become queen with an attitude like that.” Alyssa scoffed.

“That’s fine with me, because you won’t be queen either.” Gwen smirked. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to watch these lovely horses race.”

“I think Satin Silk is going to win.” Kira chimed in.

“No way, it’ll be Bright Star.” Paige added.

“It doesn’t matter who wins. They’re all pretty.” Hattie smiled and watched as the horses lined up in their spots. The gunshot rang around the track and the horses were off. Everyone watched as the horses ran. The race was over before Gwen knew it.

“Those are some fast horses.” Gwen smiled. “I’m glad the gray one won.”

“God, you’re so uncultured.” Alyssa rolled her eyes. “You can’t be queen if you don’t know how to watch a derby.”

“Did you guys hear something?” Gwen asked, pretending to look around. “It sounded like a little bitch trying to discourage me from making the prince happy.”

“You’re the bitch. Ever since you arrived here, you’ve been acting like you’re better than all of us.” Alyssa crossed her arms.

“No, honey, that’s you.” Gwen patted Alyssa’s shoulder as she walked off with Hattie. The two of them rode to the picnic together and found their table.

“I don’t know why Alyssa treats you so badly. Usually, she just keeps quiet but makes faces.” Hattie sighed.

“It’s okay, I’m used to girls like her. In the orph-. Where I grew up, there were always girls like her. They’d always make fun of me or try to get me to run away.”

“Were you about to say orphanage?” Hattie asked in a hushed whisper. Gwen looked down at her hands, but didn’t deny nor confirm Hattie’s suspicion. “Gwen, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because, the people here don’t need to know that. If they knew, they’d have so much more to say about me.”

“Does Luke know?”

“Yeah, he’s the only one here that does. Other than you, now.”

“I’m sorry. That must be really hard for you.” Hattie sighed, holding Gwen’s hand.

“Thanks, Hattie. Just, don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t, I promise.” Hattie smiled.

“Won’t tell anyone what?” Michael asked, sitting at the table.

“I’ll tell you later.” Gwen nodded.

“Okay, you need to get ready to meet the queen. Make sure you call her Your Majesty rather than Your Highness. Curtsey, smile, and remember your manners. Be careful not to swear around her, or you’ll leave a bad impression.” Michael explained.

“I know how to behave, Michael. Jesus Christ, I’m not a child.” Gwen huffed.

“Don’t act like that either.” Michael rolled his eyes.

“Wow, you two really do act like siblings.” Hattie laughed.

“Well, when Gwen wins this, she’ll be officially part of the Clifford family.” Michael chuckled.

“You mean, you’re gonna basically adopt me?” Gwen raised an eyebrow.

“Technically, yes.” Michael nodded. Gwen and Hattie shared a look before Michael spoke again. “You two better go get in line to meet the queen.”

“Right, let’s go, Gwen.” Hattie stood up and walked with Gwen to the line. “So, were you ever, you know, adopted before?” Hattie asked quietly.

“No, I had interviews with prospective parents, but they always decided I wasn’t the one.” Gwen sighed. “I’ve never known what it’s like to have a real family.”

“You will, when you win.” Hattie giggled. “Besides, I’ve always wanted a sister and becoming friends with you has been the closest thing I have.”

“Aw, Hattie.” Gwen giggled.

“Will you two be quiet please? I’m trying to listen to other girls’ conversations with the queen.” Alyssa rolled her eyes.

“Someone’s tampon is in a little too far.” Gwen mumbled.

“You are so immature!” Alyssa raised her voice, eyes turning to them.

“Alyssa, please keep your voice down. We wouldn’t want you disturbing the other suitors and their time with our queen, would we?” Gwen smiled sweetly.

“Yeah, Alyssa. You’re taking the attention away from those speaking with the queen.” Kira spoke up.

“Who’s side are you on, Kira?” Alyssa glared at her.

“We don’t need to choose sides, Alyssa. We can all get along here.” Gwen spoke, hoping the other girls would agree.

“Yeah, you don’t have to make us feel like we have no chance. We all have an equal chance here.” Hattie agreed.

“Oh please, we all know that Luke has already made his decision. And, it’s me.” Alyssa smirked and walked up to the queen. “Miranda, darling, it’s so lovely to see you again.” Alyssa smiled and curtsied.

“Lady Alyssa, your presence is always welcome.” Queen Miranda smiled. Alyssa giggled softly and turned to Luke.

“Good afternoon, Lukey. I look forward to seeing you again later on.” Alyssa kissed his cheek.

“You as well.” Luke nodded, glancing at Gwen. Alyssa walked away as Gwen walked up to the queen.

“Your Majesty, it is an hour to be in your courts.” Gwen smiled and curtsied.

“Ah, the mystery woman. Lady Guinevere, we are pleased to have you among our suitors.” Queen Miranda smiled. Gwen smiled and turned to Luke.

“Your Highness.” She curtsied.

“Always a pleasure, Lady Guinevere.” Luke grinned and kissed her knuckles. She blushed softly as she walked off to the join the others who had already spoken with the queen.

“You may think you have a chance here, but you don’t. No commoner has ever survived being queen.” Alyssa rolled her eyes.

“Say what you want, I’m not leaving. I’m staying until Luke makes his decision at the end of the season.” Gwen took a seat once more. After each suitor had their chance to speak to the queen, she stood on her pedestal and looked out at the suitors and other guests.

“It is now time for the prince and I to choose one suitor each to play a game of croquet. I shall choose Ruby of Melbourne.” Queen Miranda smiled, a gasp echoing from the crowd.

“She’s a suitor? Again?” Hattie widened her eyes.

“What? Who is she?” Gwen asked, looking at Hattie.

“She’s been a suitor for each of the Hemmings boys. She was even-”

“And, I choose Lady Guinevere.” Luke spoke clearly.

“You have to go, I’ll tell you about it later.” Hattie nodded to her.

“I don’t know how to play croquet.” Gwen widened her eyes.

“Just hit the ball through the hoops. It’s just fancy people golf.” Hattie said, pushing Gwen toward the queen and Luke.

“I hope you’re good at croquet.” Luke smiled down at Gwen.

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never played.” Gwen pouted up at him.

“Don’t worry, you’ll do great.” Luke chuckled and wrapped his arm around her waist, leading her to the field.

“So, Lady Guinevere, how are you liking our fair land?” The queen asked, smiling softly.

“Please, call me Gwen.” She smiled. “And, your kingdom is absolutely gorgeous.”

“Where did you come from Gwen?” Ruby asked. “Camelot?” She laughed softly.

“Very funny.” Gwen rolled her eyes slightly. “I’m from New York.”

“Ah, an American.” Miranda hummed. “Will you bring American ideals to our kingdom if you are to become queen?”

“I would like to bring some democratic pieces of American culture to the kingdom. Not to get rid of the monarchy, but just to make sure the people’s voices are being heard. The kingdom should be somewhere that people want to live, not where they’re forced to live.” Gwen explained. The queen nodded and hit her ball gently.

“How would you handle a crisis in the kingdom? Perhaps a famine or a natural disaster?” The queen asked.

“In the case of a famine, I would first determine what about the farms prevented a standard supply of food to the kingdom. Once that is determined, I will work with the people to come up with a solution. The people of the kingdom always have ideas, and I feel they should be heard.” Gwen nodded. “With a natural disaster, I would personally go to the affected areas to find out what they needed. I don’t believe in sending middlemen to do the things I could do just as easily.”

“Very good. It’s very important for a queen to help the people.” Miranda nodded. Ruby glared at Gwen as the game progressed, Gwen and Luke taking the lead. As the four of them played, Luke and Gwen stayed ahead.

“This is the last hoop, if we make it, we win.” Luke smiled at Gwen. Gwen chewed on her lip as she thought of how she should play her last move. She could either win the game, or purposefully lose so the queen would win. Gwen nodded to Luke and hit her ball through the final hoop, winning the game.

“I’m very impressed with you, Gwen. Most of the suitors here would have lost on purpose. It’s an important quality in a queen to be able to go against authority when necessary.” Queen Miranda smiled. “We’re very pleased to have you in our courts, Lady Guinevere.”

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #5sos smut #5sos writing #5sos imagine #5sos fanfic #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #calum hood #ashton irwin #michael clifford #my writing

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artisticestheticreads · 5 years

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WARNING THE CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE

It was Thursday morning, ten am actually, and we rehearsing for tomorrow night’s performance for Santino’s with Gabi, Demi and Jazz. I wore red leggings, a black Michael Jackson’s Thriller band tee with a pair of red and white nikes to relax my feet after practicing in heels all week. Amir was hanging on the wall on his phone, messaging with FLO Records about the details about AC Records. We were practicing “Jungle” when Charlie came in. She had on a short black skater dress, a pair of high tops Vans with her curls tucked behind her ears under a black beanie. Amir looked her way and began to talk.

“Hey, Charlie. What’s up?”

“Hello, Mr. Carter. I am here because I know that Ms. Mitchellson needed help to find some attire for tomorrow and Saturday’s night performance.”

I walked over. “Yeah, I actually was. Cassidy said you knew how to handle it.”

“That’s why I’m here”, she said with a wink and scrolling through her iPad. “So, tonight’s look we are going for is all about being a boss. We want people to take you as a serious artist as you are now. Hardworking, dedicated and ambitious. So, I put the most perfect look together for such a great artist. I also decided to get a look for Mr. Carter as well.” Amir looked confused and asked “why me? I’m not performing, Charlie?” Charlie smiled “yes, but according to my thorough research, in only a month you’ll will be managing your own successful record company. Not only that, but you are also one of the best new music producers to artists like Synclaire Kyle of Bronx, NY. She is a huge success because of you.” I nudged his arm and he smiled at me. He said, with his arms around me, “so what did you have in mind then, Charlie.” She scrolled through and showed us.

“Ms. Mitchellson, you will be in this super sleek business woman short bodysuit with classic plaid stripes, a leather five heel pump and a necklace set, five layered with a gold hoop and gold rings. Bonnie is still situating your make up and hair look.” I looked over the outfit and it was actually really cute. “Looks like something I would wear all the time. It’s really good, Charlie.” She smiled and thanked me.

“And Mr. Carter, you will be in matching suit with Veronica here. Exact print, dark red tie with matching handkerchief, plaid vest, white dress short, gold cuff links and watch, gold studs, and a black leather dress shoe. Since, it look like you already got a hair cut, you look good for this weekend.” Amir cover his mouth with his fist and said “damn, that’s a bad suit, Charlie. Good job.”

“Thank you. That’s what I get paid for. Now, Gabi, Demi and Jazz will all be in black mid length dresses, hair up in a ponytail and black heels. I will be coming by with your attire, Mr. Carter and Ms. Mitchellson around five o’clock and I will be with Bonnie as well. Be showered and ready by then. See you guys later.” With that she left.

AMIR

After rehearsal, my baby and I decided to go ahead and hit up Checker’s. After we ate, we sat in my truck watching the rain drop down the window shield. “So, I talked to Monte at FLO. Looks like they throwing a huge party down here for my 28th next month and for AC Records. My artist, Synclaire will be performing down here.” She said “I love Synclaire. She is really talented. My favorite track is ‘1991′. When I heard that beat the first time, I was like ‘daaaamn’. Amari was playing it her car when I first heard about her. Doesn’t Synclaire have like a few nicknames or something like that?” I nodded “yeah, when she first came to the label, she was originally ‘Syn City’ which was the name on her first album but she is basically known as the ‘Bronx Baby Girl’.” V smiled and said “oh, yeah. Didn’t she get signed when she was like 18.?” I nodded.

“We found her at an underground club in New Jersey called ‘Njay’s’. I actually got her on and did her beats since then.”

“Oh shit. So you did the one for ‘1991′ then?”

“Sure did, first beat I did forher .”

V looked at me amazed and said “so, the event...is it casual or formal.?” I looked at her then up and down her frame. “Who said YOU was getting an invite.?” I crossed my arms and she looked at me like:

“Excuse me?” I chuckled and move my arm rest out the way to grab her in my arms. “I messing with you, V. Honestly, everyone might be all dressed up but don’t worry. I know ya girl, Charlie gonna have us covered. But honestly, you can go naked and still look good.” She laughed with her back on my chest. “Really? You want other guys to see me naked?” I thought about it and with a straight face said “yeah. Never mind. I don’t wanna kill no nigga on my special night.” We both laughed and chilled some more watching the rain get lighter. My arms were around her and head on my chest. She rubbed the outside of my hand and got more comfortable. I can possible stay like that for so long and not give a damn.

We got back to our place to shower together and ready for Charlie and Bonnie to come; sure enough they pulled up as soon as we got out. V went out in a huge shirt and opened the door. I can hear their voices from our bedroom. “Hey, girls. Did you get here okay in the rain?” Bonnie said “yes, geez it is pouring so hard. But we made it alright.?” I heard heels clicking and the voices went to the island of the kitchen. “So, I have your stuff here and Bonnie will get started on your hair”, Charlie said.

“Okay, I washed my hair and everything to make it easy for you, Bonnie.”

“Thank you so much. Do you know how hard and consuming it is to do one’s hair when it is not prepared? Hours on in. But that’s just the life I have.”

I threw on a wife beater and my grey sweats to walked and chill with them for awhile. “Hey, y’all.” Charlie said “hello, Mr. Carter. Here is your outfit for the night. Everything you need is there.”

“Coo, when should I get ready?”

“Whenever is fine but probably safe to wait until Ms. Mitchellson’s make up is done.”

VERONICA

I sat in the chair at the island, waiting for Bonnie. She wrapped a cape around my neck as The Weeknd played in the background, running her hands in my hair. “Okay, Veronica. You have beautiful hair. Long, thick and full. Have you ever put heat in your hair.?”

“Hm, not since prom.”

She nodded and said “that’s fine. For tonight’s look, you will be rockin’ bone straight hair with a middle part. You also need a trim, about two inches. We want you hair to keep growing. For your make up, we are gonna do a dark eye and a bold red lip. Lets get started.” She started to sections my hair and ran the iron slowly through about 3-4 times on each row. Amir sat at the dining room table on his Mac Book and watched with a smile every once in a while. Charlie started to paint my nails a super dark black and placing my rings on after they dried.The heat of the flat iron kissed the nape of my neck. A hour and thirty minutes later, she began to trim the ends and I watched as the pieces fell to the ground. Bonnie stood in front to perfect my part.

“Girl, you got the magic touch”, Charlie said as she smiled with her hands in the mom jeans she wore. “Thank you” Bonnie said as she started to run a comb through my hair and spray a little hair spritz on. When she stood to the side, I had a clear view of Amir. He stood with his Mac Book under his arm closed and a look that I saw a look that I loved on his face; shock. “Whoa, Bonnie you did a- uh- a great job”, he said has he slowly walked to stand in front of me. I looked at him as he reached his hand under my chin. “You look good, baby.” He grabbed kissed the side of my temple and caressed my chin. He stood up straight and grabbed his bag. “If you ladies need me, I’ll be gettin’ ready.” He winked at me and went to the back. Bonnie and Charlie both looked at me, giving big smiles. “They don’t make men like that no more”, Bonnie said and we all nodded in agreement. “Let’s get this face beat.”

AN HOUR LATER..

AMIR

I was dressed in every thing but my coat and bored outta my mind so I decided to go to the studio and play around until they was ready. I sat at the piano and began playing the familiar sound that was close to my heart. I closed my eyes as I felt every key hit my fingertips. I started to think about Veronica, just starting to say stuff to myself. “It's the sunrise. And those brown eyes yes. You're the one that I desire. When we wake up. And then we make love. It makes me feel so nice.” I smiled the kept going as I felt the flow of it. “You're my water when I'm stuck in the desert. You're the Tylenol I take when my head hurts. You're the sunshine on my life.” I opened my eyes while I continued and looked to the left to see Bonnie. “That’s beautiful, Amir.”

I stood and straightened out my clothes. “Thank you, Bonnie. Is she ready?” She nodded and I followed behind to see Veronica. She looked amazin’. Her outfit fit her well, legs looked good enough to eat and her face was incredible but honestly I liked how she looked always. Charlie was finishing it up and talking to V. “So, then I just decided to do track. Running up and down that court was no joke.” V gave that warm smiling after her story to Charlie. Charlie laughed and said “giiirl, who you tellin’? You just got be like ‘nah, I’m good.’ “ They both laughed then she saw me with my hands in my pockets. “Hi, Amir.”

“Hey, V.” We both smiled at each other. “Good job, Charlie. We do look good” I said as I walked up to them with Bonnie following behind. “Thank you, Mr. Carter. Well, we will meet you both at Cassidy’s studio tomorrow at practice to discuss what I have in mind for tomorrow night. Good luck tonight, Ms. Mitchellson. We won’t be able to attend because we need all the sleep we can tonight.” With that, they left with their stuff, V locked the door and looked back at me.

“You ready, baby”, she asked while holding her hand out. I put my jacket, helped her in a trench coat, grabbed an umbrella before stepping out side; I had the umbrella over her head and mine as we got to the car. We soon arrived and our families were there; waiting. Teresa looked at us and said “well, look at tis. Lookin’ good.” She kissed our cheeks and Ahmad shook my hand. “Y’all good man. That’s a bad ass suit, dawg.” V smiled and said “well. I gotta get backstage to get ready. I’ll see y’all afterwards.” She kissed my cheek and made her way back.

VERONICA

I made my way back and felt something grab my hand; it was Brandon. He was dressed in an all black suit looking like he was getting ready for a funeral. “Brandon, what are you doin’ here?” He looked me in the eyes. “I actually heard about you being here. One of the younger kids on my campaign was talking about it and I overheard.” I held my head up and said “well enjoy the show then” but before I can get away from him, his grip got tighter.

“I miss you, Veronica. I miss- I miss us.”

“Well, keep missin’ us den. I already forgave you a couple weeks ago back at the church. So let me go if you wanna walk away alive.”

He got closer and I felt my other fist ball up; I can smell that hot scent of gin on his breath. “Veronica, was that a threat?” I yanked my arm and pushed him. I heard Gabi comin’ down the hall as I walked away towards her. She had a big smile until she saw me marching to her. “Hi, V. I was just lookin’ for you. Are you okay? What’s going on?” I looked behind me and he was gone; I looked back at Gabi who had worried eyes as I smiled to calm her down. “I’m fine, G. Let’s go get ready. You look good by the way, girl.” We turned the corner but I kept my eyes behind us.

The announcer stood on stage to introduce us. “Hello, every one and good evening. Welcome to Santino’s. Tonight, we have a special treat. She was actually here last Friday night, the friday before that and by popular demand, she is back. Welcome, Veronica Mitchellson.” The girls took their places and I walked on stage as people cheered me on. I shook the announcer’s hand before she left. “Good evening, everyone. Are y’all ready?” Everyone cheered, I looked to Amir when he gave me wink and clap then I looked to the front row and saw Brandon. I put on my poker face as the MC played “Jungle”. My hips swayed side to side as I began.

“These days, I'm letting God handle all things above me The things I can't change are the reasons you love me Listen, you can hear them calling my name I'm all over the place, I can't sit in one place I'm not ashamed at all Still findin' myself, let alone a soulmate, I'm just sayin' Feel like we one in the same, our relationship changed That or it never existed Whenever they say somethin' bout us you listen But fuck what they talkin' about on your timeline That's cuttin' all into my time with you Forget what they talkin' about on your timeline, yeah Cause that's cuttin' all into my time with you My time with you, my”

I looked towards my group and they were all dancing with their significant others even Jerry and... Dena. Ok, I need some details on that. I thought to myself as I smiled and gave them a thumbs up.

“He said you're my everything I love you through everything, I done did everything to him He forgave me for everything, this a forever thing Hate that I treat it like it's a whatever thing Trust me, boy, this shit is everything to me He from the jungle, he from the jungle I take somebody else's car, drive there undercover This shit is everything to me, this here is everything Don't know where we stand, I used to hit you 'bout everything Are we still good? Are we still good? Are we still good? Are we still good? If I need to talk are you around? Are you down for the cause? Are you down? Are you down? Are you down? Are you down for the cause? Are you down? Are you down? Are you down? Are you down for the cause? You still down? You still down? You still down?”

I looked into the rest of the audience and they were loving it. I was so happy until I saw Brandon watching with hunger eyes and sipping from his cup. My poker face came back and I slowly close eyes and opened towards Amir.

“These days these new girls, they got me nervous They go to school and do bottle service They can't decide, they keep switching majors Being indecisive makes me anxious Call your number and it's out of service Who can I call for your information? What am I supposed to do after we done everything that we've done? Who is your replacement? Are we still good? Are we still good? Are we still good? Are we still good?

Rock me real slowly Put a bib on me I'm just like a baby, drooling over you Rock, rock.”

Every member of the audience cheered and the MC started to play “Every Kind of Way.” Now, this song is dedicated to an incredible man in my life.” I looked to Brandon then at Amir with my hand towards him. “Mr. Amir Carter.” OOO, girl you petttttyyyy.

“Baby, the sound of you Better than a harmony I want you off my mind And on me Holding me closer than we've ever been before This ain't a dream You're here with me Boy, it don't get no better than you For you, I wanna take my time All night.”

All the men in our group was shaking his shoulders as they were chuckling. When the were done, he shrugged towards me and laugh.

“Give you all, give you all of me When you need it 'Cause I need it I wanna fall like your favorite season I'll never get up Stay here forever, babe It don't get no better than this Your kiss

I wanna love you in every kind of way I wanna please you, no matter how long it takes If the world should end tomorrow, then we only have today I'm gonna love you in every kind of way I wanna love you in every kind of way I wanna please you, no matter how long it takes If the world should end tomorrow, then we only have today I'm gonna love you in every kind of way

I wanna love you I gotta love you I wanna love you I gotta love you”

I looked at my girls and they all smiled waiting for the cue for the next song. I looked at Amir and smiled then my eyes fell on Brandon. Seeing his smugness, made my skin move and blood boil. I took a deep breath as I looked to Amir then at him again.

AMIR

Her eyes were throwing daggers at someone but standing in the back I couldn’t see who it was.”This song is for the ones who thought they were the ones playin’ the mind games but guess what.” The MC started playing the beat her new track ‘2′; another song she had freestyle.

“It's cool It's really never been that deep Wasn’t thinking about you 'Cause you didn’t give a fuck about me

Thought I was up in my room Crying myself to sleep I was with a better you While you were busy playing me

I was playing you too I was playing you too”

She was walking across the stage with just the mic, no stand and singing with a certain attitude. Her eyes keep falling to the her left side. I walked to the bar which was on my right to get a better view. She bent at her knees, looking at everyone at that side.

“Thought I wouldn't find out Thought I didn’t know how to play the game Could’ve screamed at you for hours Instead I was screaming somebody else’s name

There were no rules Now I can do whatever I want I can never lose So it’s funny how you thought you won

But I was playing you too I was playing you too I was playing you too I was playing you too”

As soon as the song ended, I looked straight into his soul as he got up and walked out; Brandon was testing my kindness. She bowed with the girls and left to the back. I walked up behind her and she swung around scared. “V, it’s just me. Did he try talkin’ to you?” She nodded and said “yeah. Said he missed us but I promise I didn't’ acknowledge him.” I rubbed her shoulder and said “did he touch you?” She was quiet until she pointed to her wrist. I told her “get your coat” and once she came back we made our way back to the car across the street in the parking garage. Luckily, the rain had let up, stopping completely. Bipolar ass weather. We reached the car, I helped her in until I heard Ahmad and Aaron. “What the fuck you doing here?!”

I saw Brandon standing behind our car. She looked up at me, I threw my coat in her lap, kissed her and said “stay in here”. I closed her door and put my hand in my pockets on my way to Brandon. “You are really testing my patience, nigga. What you want?” He looked at me and said “I want Veronica back.” Amari said “my sister isn’t going in anywhere with you, batty man.” Amaya said “leave her alone.” Brandon said “aye light skin, tell these dumb bitches to shut up.” I can see Rock’s face turned dark red as he yelled “what the fuck you said you bitch ass nigga?!” Amaya had to hold him back. “Don’t trip, babe. He got it.” I looked at Rock and nodded then at Amari then asked “is V still in the car?” Brianna said “yes, I’m watching her”; good thing our folks were gone.

“V, ain’t going no where especially with you. She happy and got some shit going for her self and don’t need no pussy ass nigga in her life. Don’t make my south side come out.” He looked me up and down saying “so, I noticed you two matched tonight. How cute. Does that mean y’all fucking now.” I chuckled and said “unlike you, patna. I’m a gentleman and I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Well, don’t forget. I hit it first.”

“First of all, you ‘hit it first’ by force and second, the first ain’t always the best.”

I got closer to his face until I heard a car door open and arms wrapping around my stomach. “I told you to stay in the car, babe.” Her heels began clicking against the pavement as she stood in front of me with her hand on my back. “I know. I’m a Taurus, remember? We stubborn.” That made me grin but I wasn’t letting my eyes off him. She said “come on, Amir. It ain’t worth it.” I looked down at her as I rubbed her back. Jerry with Dena in his arms said “come on, y’all. This nigga mad ‘cause he losing the polls. Let’s get up outta here and get some food. I’m starving like Marvin”. We all chuckled like Brandon wasn’t even there anymore. As we were about to get in the car, he said with a slight grin:

“So, how much for the night?” V and I stopped and looked at each other like:

I looked at her and asked “what the fuck did he just say?” We both closed our doors at the same time and walked back to stand directly in front of him with our hands together. “What the fuck you just say, bitch?” I asked and saw him reach his hand out towards V. “How much for a night? I wanna hear her scream and watch her cry again.” He dug in his pocket and counted “One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Five dollars for the night.” He threw the money in her face but she didn’t flinch; she just let my hand go. I can feel my blood boil and I wanted to end this nigga’s life. I looked down at her but her eyes were still on him, talking to me. “Amir, don’t be too rough, baby.” With that, I punched the nigga dead in his jaw; spit and blood flying. I mean, I was giving it to this nigga. He got up trying to swing but I ain’t having that. I heard foot steps but V said “nah, y’all! He got it.”

I was punching this nigga out on the concrete while holding onto the collar of his shirt. I was about to get one more punch in until I saw V’s hand on mine. “That’s enough, Amir.” I dropped him on his knees and saw the swelling on his face appear. I stood up straight and straightened my suit out. I took her hand in my mine until she turned back to Brandon watching him get up. Before he did though, she gave him a nice right hook to his jaw and he fell again. She knelt down over his body. “That was for calling my sisters dumb bitches, wasteman.” She stood up straight and said “Ahmad do me a favor and call your boys at the police station. Tell them that this man was attacking an innocent woman but she got away after she protected herself. If they need me, give them my number.” He nodded and pulled out his phone.

We all got in our rides and met up at a nearby dinner for some late night food. She sat next to me and asked the waitress for two ziploc baggies of ice. She did so and when the waitress came back, V took the bags as she thanked her, flattened my hands out on the table and placed the bags on them. “Y’know, Amir. We could've walked away but he did had it coming. Thank you, baby.” She kissed my cheek and held my straw to my mouth so I can drink my soda. “You’re welcome, V. You know I got your back.” I kissed her on the lips and she lied her head on my shoulder while we watched people eat.

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