#i think me and this pairing are done-zo for a while

[vinsmokewife]

retribution

day 20 of a very zosan centric kinktober - panties and lingerie

A follow up to 'punishment'. Zoro finds a pair of Nami's panties in Sanji's cabin which proves Sanji hasn't learned his lesson. It's time to up the ante.

It’s as they say, fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.  

Zoro thought this very much applied to his situation when once again, he found himself holding a pair of lacy red panties that he had accidently came across in Sanji’s cabin. He thought that his little moment last time had deterred Sanji from doing the same thing as he did just right now but no... Sanji just couldn’t resist himself by doing the exact same thing again. But was it really his own fault? He believed that Sanji would change but then he realised that maybe he needed to up the ante a little bit to get Sanji to listen to him for once.  

He tried not to let this annoy him but deep down, he was just feeling a little envious of the girls for getting all his attention like this. Not that he wanted Sanji stealing his underwear or anything like that, but he just wished this habit would stop. How was he going to stop it? 

He was just going to have to make good of his word. See how the cook likes being objectified like he does to those girls. Not that Zoro cares all that much about Nami and Robin. As said before, had it been Brook stealing their underwear, Zoro probably would have stayed out of it, but it wasn’t Brook. It was Sanji. 

And he had very much an interest in clamping this down. He knew how he was going to do it too. 

- 

Sanji was pretty pissed when he was taken away from what he was doing in the kitchen to go to Zoro’s cabin, but it sounded like Zoro was pissed off with him. So, he needed to find out why he was pissed off with him this time. Sanji had no clue what it could possibly be about when he stepped in the cabin to see Zoro standing there, crossed arms. 

“Can’t you see I’m busy in the kitchen? If Luffy sees no lunch has been cooked, then...” 

Sanji stopped when he saw the panties in Zoro’s hand. Shit. Okay, in his defence it had only been once, and he had lasted a week without stealing their panties. That wasn’t fair. It was like asking him to quit smoking or... 

“What did I say about this?” Zoro said and suddenly Sanji’s head felt a little fuzzy. He remembered what happened last time. The absolute humiliation that Zoro had put him through, but he remembered that he didn’t hate it. Having Zoro humiliate him while jerking off with Robin’s panties was...possibly one of the most arousing things that Zoro had done to him.  

Maybe just maybe...he did this so Zoro did it again. 

“Yeah, I heard you. Sorry. I couldn’t resist. Do you want to watch me jerk off into them again?” Sanji tried to act as if he didn’t care. As if the very idea of doing that again didn’t arouse him all over again but Zoro simply laughed and shook his head. 

“No. What did I say I was going to make you do next time?” Zoro moved to the other side of the room where there was a closet. Sanji was a little curious to see what Zoro was planning but he tried to remember what Zoro said and....oh...not now he remembers.  

But Zoro omitted one thing he was going to do, and he was about to found out when Zoro threw the panties at him alongside a piece of fabric. 

“You know what to do. Get undressed and put them on,”  

It seemed as if Sanji needed a moment to process what was going on. He looked at the ground to try and figure out the fabric and what it was, but he reached down to pick it up and hold it up. The fabric was blue, and it felt like Polyester, but he noticed the sequence on it. Sanji examined it further and a moment of confusion hit him. It was...a dress. It looked like something Robin would wear but the tags were still on it, so it hadn’t been worn by either of them. It was brand new. Did that mean...? 

“You...didn’t just buy a dress just to make me wear it?” Sanji seemed to be thinking about the fact that Zoro had bought him a dress. Had Zoro been secretly hoping that he would slip up? 

“Didn’t you hear me? Get out of your clothes and put them on,” Although Zoro was standing back and watching him, Sanji could tell that Zoro was pissed off with him. Sure, if Sanji said no then he would probably let Sanji go back to the kitchen but... 

It wasn’t as if Sanji wasn’t into this at all. 

He looked at Zoro then looked at the panties and dress. 

“Fine,” 

Sanji snatched the dress and the panties. The thought of putting on the dress in particular was making his heart race. Sanji had remembered having to wear a dress every day of his life on Momoiro and that hadn’t been a pleasent experience for him. He turned and removed his suit. There were no words exchanged between the two men as Sanji stripped all the layers of clothing from his skin until he was naked. Sanji then took a moment to look at the red panties. These in particular were Nami’s and he can remember the...fun... he had with them the night before. The smell of Nami was strong on these ones. It was the first pair he had stolen actually in a while. He thought Zoro would have been proud of him but apparently not. Sanji just looked at them and then back at Zoro. 

“You...You want me to wear these,” 

Zoro nodded, “Put them on, pervert,” 

Right. Gotcha. Sanji stared at them a little more before he started to put them on. Oddly enough, they fit him. He didn’t think they would fit as much as he thought they would. He would every now and then look at Zoro who’s face was unreadable.  

Then, there was the dress... which seemed to also fit him too. It was like Zoro had been planning this. How was he the pervert when Zoro had a dress on hand? He flattened it out on his body. It fit along every curve on Sanji’s pretty body. Zoro looked at Sanji for a moment before taking a step over and approaching Sanji, grabbing him from behind and wrapping his arms around him, hands gripping at Sanji’s chest as if he was going to be able to grab something. 

“Look at you,” Zoro whispered against Sanji’s ear. His voice husky and met with a low growel...as if this was affecting more than he was trying to show, “You’re so pretty like this...I’ve been wanting to see you in this dress for such a long time,” His fingers digging into the dress before one of his hands dipped down to slip until the dress. It was only then that Sanji realised just how turned on he was already and Zoro had found this out too but cupped his cock roughly over the panties and fondling him as if he was some stress toy for Zoro to use. 

“Turned on already?” Zoro’s voice said again, this time with a smug chuckle in his voice, “God you’re so pathetic cook. I just wanna treat you like the way you treat the girls clothes. I wanna objectify you like the nasty slut you are,” 

“...Zoro...” Sanji whined but only because of his words and they way they were just growled in his ear. Wasn’t this supposed to be a punishment? Zoro’s large hands began to fondle every curve of Sanji’s body with little care to what Sanji thought...because he knew by the way Sanji was grinding his hips back against his cock that he was into his words too. He wanted that just as much as Zoro did. 

“You want to be objectified? You’re so pathetic,” Zoro chuckled, again going back to fondling Sanji’s cock over the lacy fabric. Once he’d managed to wind Sanji up enough, Zoro smacked his ass before pulling away from him. 

“On the bed. I want to fuck you while you’re wearing that dress. Hands and knees,”  

It didn’t take Sanji long to do that. He didn’t hesistate as he went over the the bed and climbed onto it, taking the position that Zoro wanted. The embarassment of wearing a dress had completely gone and the only thing he wanted was for Zoro to use him like he said he would. 

“Good boy,” Zoro reached into the drawer and grabbed the lube from there and got behind Sanji. He fondled his ass with his large hand, pulling his dress up and spanking him again over the lacy pants which got a moan from Sanji, “You look good in these panties. I’m gonna make you cum in them like the slutty pervert you are...” With the moan and his hips pushing back, Zoro knew Sanji wanted that too. Zoro moved the panties to the side and immediately dived his face in.  

His lips attached to the rim off the hole. It wasn’t often that Sanji let him eat him out. He normally tells him it feels weird to begin with but Zoro was gonna do whatever he wanted with him and he wanted to eat Sanji out while he was eating those panties. He also wanted to get him as wet as possible before he fucked Sanji. 

He sucked the rim and slipped his tongue inside before leaning his head up and spit drool on Sanji’s hole before going back in. Sanji pushed his hips back against Zoro’s face as he sucked the rim and wiggled his tongue around. Honestly, If Zoro could, he would spend hours eating Sanji out and making him cum all over himself just from eating him out but Zoro had other things he wanted to do but right now, he messily ate out Sanji’s hole. Lips and tongue mostly doing the work.  

Once he was satisfied, he looked up and watched Sanji’s face who was lying his head on the pillow and his face was flushed red and he was panting. 

“You’re enjoying this...being eaten out while your wearing this dress...” 

Zoro reached for the lube he had taken to the bed and used the lube to stroke his cock. Between lubing up his cock and making Sanji’s hole nice and wet for him, Zoro had done a good job. He pressed the head of his cock against Sanji’s hole and pushed him right in. 

“Ah! Zoro...!” Sanji couldn’t help the way his head jerked as he stretched around Zoro’s massive cock but Zoro didn’t stop until he reached the hilt. Before he started, he reached down and grabbed Sanji’s hair and pulled hard. He pulled him so his head was off the pillow before pulling his cock out and then pushing it back in hard.  

“I’m going to fuck you like the whore you are,” Zoro grunted, repeating the action again but getting faster and faster. The sound of smacking was heard against them along with the loud moaning that came from Sanji’s mouth. Sanji was...a mess. From the rough treatment, he was in absolute bliss right now. If sniffing Nami’s panties was what it took to upset Zoro enough to bring this side out of him, then god he would continue to do it. 

Zoro increased the speed in which he was fucking him. His hips smacked harshly against Sanji’s ass. Sanji was the one being loud but they didn’t care if the others could hear it. Zoro was being quieter but they couldn’t deny the grunting and groaning that came from Zoro as he continued to to fuck Sanji.  

Zoro’s hand twisted in Sanji’s hair, pulling him up more so he could whisper in Sanji’s ear, “You want to cum in those panties, getting them messy before you hand them back to Nami?” He grunted in which Sanji only moaned back, pushing his hips back as he knew he was close from cumming.  

���Ah Zoro~!”  

Sanji cried out as his hole clenched hard around Zoro’s cock. He came hard doing exactly what was asked him him and came hard in those panties. It wasn’t long after Zoro rutted his hips into him and came deep inside of him. Pulling his cock out, he watched the cum leak out of Sanji’s hole and land on the panties too.  

He pulled Sanji over and held onto him as both of them panted. Unlike last time, Zoro couldn’t leave Sanji after such a rough session. He held him in his arms as they both panted and calmed down. He felt better, less jealous and less pissed off now that he proved a point so he kissed Sanji’s hair. Once they calmed down, Sanji looked up at Zoro and a small smile came onto his lips 

“I don’t think we can give Nami back those panties now...” 

“True...” Zoro said. They were wrecked now and covered both their cum. “We’ll get rid of them...or maybe you should keep them. They look good on you,” Zoro placed a kiss on Sanji’s forehead who flushed and lay his head down. 

#one piece zosan #zoro x sanji #zosan fanfic #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #zosan #kinktober 2023

[lurkingshan]

10 Things I Love About A Boss and A Babe

Decided to catch up on this show today because there’s been some disagreement about it in the discourse and I got curious. Disclaimer: I never watched Enchanté so I have no prior feelings about the main pairing here.

With that said, I really like it! Is it bringing anything particularly new to the genre? No. Is it a flagrant affront to workplace decorum and sexual harassment law? Of course. Is the writing a little messy with some aspects of the plot glossed over? Sure. Do I care about any of that? Not really!

So without further ado, some things I love about it:

The overall vibe, from the lighting to the music to the interactions between characters, is so sunny. It just instantly puts me in a good mood.

Gun and Cher have an easy chemistry that makes it believable they’d be comfortable together so fast. They just both seem to be energized by being near each other.

I really like how confidently Cher moves through the world. His cheerful persistence in the face of Gun’s awkward rejections are the only reason they’re able to get close so fast. And it contrasts nicely with his inexperience (and therefore shyness) with romance, reluctance to just come out with things that are bothering him, and hidden pain and makes him feel more real.

I also like that the show positions Cher as an ally with an open mind who just kind of casually slides into a queer awakening because he likes someone and doesn’t seem to feel the need to examine the implications too deeply. It’s both acknowledging the politics/social stigma around sexual identity while allowing this change in his life to be relatively low angst.

Cher’s friend group, and Cher and Jack’s friendship especially feels like a good mix of support, affection, and low stakes irritation with each other. The actors have really good platonic chemistry.

Just everything about Porsche. That he’s Gun’s ex who has genuinely become his good friend. That he teases Gun and has so much fun making Cher jealous. His wardrobe of brightly colored shirts and just the fact that he looks Like That and we get the pleasure of seeing it.

Cher absolutely does not take his internship seriously, and neither does anyone else, and I just find that so refreshing and funny. He’s there to deliver coffee, flirt outrageously, and make some new besties and he seems wholly unbothered about any other work concerns.

Three and Zo are serious contenders for the cutest side couple awards.

They keep finding excuses for Gun to take his shirt off and I just think that’s neat.

Sometimes I just want a sweet romcom I don’t have to take too seriously with characters I like. There are serious topics addressed but it’s all done with a pretty light touch. Especially with some of the heavy trauma we’re getting elsewhere in bl lately, this show feels like a beach getaway for my brain.

#a boss and a babe #i am strongly in favor #honestly what’s not to like #thai bl #10 things #shan shouts into the void

[bengiyo]

Hidden Agenda Ep 8 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Zo and Joke went on a date to the amusement park and we learned that Zo went here with a boy in high school with whom he thought he shared a mutual attraction. That boy, Puen, sneered at Zo and told him he was wrong, and we also learned that Zo's former best friend made fun of him for this. Thus, we gained context for so much of Zo's reticence and his fear of making people uncomfortable. Later, we ran into Puen at the coffee shop Pok works at and learned that Puen did share Zo's feelings but was just scared in the closet. This resolution was enough to allow Zo to feel comfortable calling Joke his boyfriend and to properly kiss him.

In other threads, there was a weird bit with Joke's grandma where she pretended to be homophobic to make Zo struggle, and also we checked in with Pok and Jeng's closeted affairs. I appreciated Aou and Boom's enthusiasm, but am unsure what to do with the knowledge that Pok is being brave about the closet and Jeng is sympathetic about it.

Joong is very charming.

I feel like they should not answer repeated calls from a disturbing number and just block them.

Oh wow. Thank you, Zo.

Dunk's physique goes severely underutilized in BL.

Louis also has just so much screen presence.

Now I'm considering Louis and AJ as a pair... I would like to see it.

This Poom guy has a long neck.

I don't care for Poom.

Jeng said, "Meet me at our spot," and is now being crushed by performative heteronormativity.

Thinking about Sailom and Nuea, and how I argued that Nuea being out makes him in some ways safer than Lom as Jeng has to come clean about the high schooler.

Oh lord we got another biter.

Now Poom is gonna be in the apartment while the danger music is playing?

So stressed about this mail from the stalker after all the bombs that have been mailed in the past years.

Nooooooo. Poom knows about the spare key now.

Bro didn't even wait like a day before coming back and fucking with Zo. This is legit scary.

He's wiretapping Zo's bedroom WTF?

I hope we're done with this guy after that confrontation.

I like Zo taking an emotional leap to be intimate with Joke even if he doesn't think he can be sure, and also that his nervousness about his first time was acknowledged.

Welp. Looks like both couples fall apart next week.

I'm not sure I like the stalker plot, since it seems to offer inherent comparison with Joke's determined pursuit of Zo under potentially hidden pretenses. Still, I'm glad we've left room in the show for the breakup and reconciliation to maybe not feel rushed.

#hidden agenda #hidden agenda meta #thai bl #bl series #Ben watches

[levelrazearts]

Had this guy done for a while now but was hoping to have something else ready to pair with him, but it's gonna be a while before said item is ready so here he is, custom Legacy Armada Hot Shot, already my favorite custom this year mainly cause Armada is both my favorite TF series and my first, and while I'm not 100% certain on this, the original Hot Shot figure is possibly my first Transformer figure ever, if not him than the Super Base Optimus, so having this figure made really is a dream come true and painting it was honestly an honor of sorts given how much this franchise means to me. But as far as the figure goes, used blue angel yellow as the base, gloss black, silver, red, and blue, graphite metallic, and flat grey. For the Autobot logo, I used a Toy Hax raised logo sticker as the original toy had a raised sigil and wanted to replicate it, cut out the edges of it to get it to fit and painted over it and it looks good I think. Used a gap filler set I got on ebay (link below) to help make this look better and it definetly helps, didn't use the guns or barrel cause didn't want to, and I also gave him the StarSaber that the Legacy Armada Starscream came with cause the first episode I have recorded of the series on vhs is Hot Shot with the StarSaber that introduces Scavenger so ye. For the StarSaber, I went and removed the 5mm post that was on the front of the hilt to make it look more streamline and as a result, also game me a pretty good premade minicon symbol dot to fill in with paint zo that worked out really well. Afterwards, I used flat white as a coat, than gloss white and blue, and flat sky blue for the blade. Also cut out the little fillers between the blade and the legs of what would be Sonar in the sword to help give it a better profile (which was nerve racking) and ye, they turned out well. Overall, very happy I with how this turned out, can't wait to do more Armada figures as they hopefully come out as Megs and Prime are on the roaster and as Starscream is already in my collectoon he'll definetly be on the list to paint.

Gap fillers - https://www.ebay.com/itm/304770203878?mkcid=16&mkevt=1&mkrid=711-127632-2357-0&ssspo=DtUb8VzESva&sssrc=2349624&ssuid=8tbfbcNxSdG&var=&widget_ver=artemis&media=COPY

#transformers #toy #custom #autobot #hot shot #armada #transformers armada #starsaber sword #unicron trilogy

[gobs-o-cs]

Ah, Ix and Zo.

Love me a contrasting pair. That's definitely a recurring theme in characters I create.

Love a pair of miserable prat and absolute ray of sunshine.

That was pretty much the main outline that I'd had for those two for years. Finally fleshed their backstory more fully out last week when I made their minis.

Their dice sets aren't back-to-back in sequence, but I couldn't not work on them together, hence the jump ahead.

And then the bolt of inspiration hit for Novelty, so I created everything for her because my mind would not let me think about anything else until I had her basics in place.

And in building her mini and writing her backstory, the inspiration for Pog struck, so I got him whipped up. Still need to finish writing the backstory on them, before creating the next mini.

And that's be Set #19 - But I've decided to jump ahead briefly to fully write-up and fully create the character that is basically the goblin in my main account's avatar/icon/profile pic - Which I've used as an avatar forever, basically everywhere, since back when the Ravnica block first came out in MTG.

So yeah, it's time to fully write up that Nazmazh character and then make his mini (and put that here in place of Ambrose, as helpful as he's been as a temporary icon).

And in doing so, I'll need to go through the lore on the main character whose group he's a part of, that I've written up the lore for - So that I can make sure it's all matched up and coherent.

And since I'll be working with her, I might as well get her mini update done for her, then she should be ready to add.

And THEN circle back to Set #19. Poor Adeus has been waiting a while for his turn.

Set #20's character has a mini already, so I'll revise Ulaan's mini, then take the opportunity to go back and revise the minis for sets 1-9, since Maris was the first one created with the new face/posing system (By mere days, apparently! Set 9 and a new character I made and assigned to a set in the 300s were made at the end of September, just before the system was added)

From there, I should be good to create and revise in numical order for every character I've got something written down for until I get through to the end of my list.

Any total blanks can wait. No point getting hung up waiting for inspiration for them. Especially since I'm sure plenty of ideas will jump out at me as I go, or I might realize that one of the unassigned concepts I have can would fit perfectly for a certain set.

And let's just hope I don't burn out on this burst of inspiration for at least a little while.

[alexanderjonasfisher]

Pre-K Tap Class

If Alex said it wasn’t common for him to catch the eyes of a bunch of moms, he’d be lying. Not a lot of dads took their daughters to dance class and would stay to watch. And the other dads who did, didn’t have the added bonus of Alex’s looks. So as he kneeled to the floor, fixing Zoey’s buns in her hair, he caught a couple of glances. He stood up, nudging her off to her class and found a seat outside the room.

There in the waiting room, Alex gazed across the seating area. A couple of moms whispered with each other while nearly everyone else was scrolling their phones. He followed suit, taking out his airpods and putting them in his ears. He settled himself into some TikToks, waiting for the toddler class to end. He was always nervous about leaving her at the class and coming back to pick her up, so every time he had to take her to dance, he stayed and waited.

He wasn’t sure whose idea it was first to get Zoey into dance, but he still thought it was a great idea. The pre-k tap class ran through the summer, and Zoey was obsessed with it. She loved getting her leotard and tutu on and going to class twice a week. Even more she loved stomping her feet in her tap shoes. Since Alex’s apartment was carpeted, he had to buy her a tap mat to practice. Even when she didn’t have class she was always putting her shoes on the wrong feet and stomping around the tap mat.

The class was only about 45 minutes long, and Alex knew exactly when it was done by the flood of 4 year old girls streaming out of the dance room to their parents. Some were out of the door almost immediately, but Alex knew by the absence of his daughter that he was going to have to go in to get her. He pulled out his AirPods, shoving them in the case and into his pocket. He moved through a few kids, to the door to the dance room, looking in to see Zoey spinning in circles in front of the large mirror on the wall.

“Miss Zoey, it’s time to go, sweetie. Your mom should be here waiting for you,” a young woman spoke gently to the young girl. Alex interrupted, waving to announce himself. “Hi, I’m not her mom, but I’m here to pick her up,” he smiled. Zoey stopped spinning just long enough to smile and wave, “Hi, daddy!” She kept going in circles, not ready to leave yet.

The young woman was in a black t-shirt advertising the dance school, and a pair of black leggings, her hair thrown up in a bun at the top of her head. As she walked over to Alex, her tap shoes clicked against the floor. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Fisher. You have an extremely enthusiastic student with us. I’m her teacher, Ms. Holly.” She extended a hand to shake and he returned it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Holly. You can call me Alex.” His attention was pulled to Zoey as she stomped her feet on the shiny hardwood floors. “She absolutely loves this class. You do a great job with her. I’m surprised how much of the routine she retains. I don’t know about when she’s with her mom, but when she’s with me she’s always practicing.” 

“Oh, are you guys not together?” Holly’s face softened. “I’m so sorry.”

Alex chuckled, “Nah, you’re fine. We have joint custody. It works for us.” He adjusted his posture, reaching his hand out for Zoey. “C’mon, Zo, it’s time to go home.” He was met with protest as she continued to twirl and dance. “Zoey Genesis, get your little butt over here, please,” he said again, grabbing at the air.

“Genesis, wow that is such a cool name, Zoey,” Holly complimented. Alex smiled at her compliment, finally dropping his hand and leaving her to dance. “Thank you,” he grinned, “I think her middle name is the coolest…I came up with it.” He added the last part to seem cooler himself.

“So, do you or Zoey’s mom do any dancing? She’s gotta get the jitter-bug from somewhere,” her brunette teacher asked, taking the opportunity to get to know them a little better. Alex nodded a little bit with a chuckle, “I don’t know about Claudia…I, however, have done just a little bit of dancing in community theater…I was in quite a few shows when I was younger.” 

Holly seemed impressed by his theater background, a pleasantly surprised look on her face, “Wow! That’s so cool! Do you do anything around here?” Alex shook his head, “Nah, nothing since I was in high school. And that was back when I lived in Massachusetts. Nothing new here.” 

“Well, I’m actually in a local theater production of Seussical, if you maybe wanted to check us out,” she shuffled to the corner of the room where her bag was, grabbing a flier from her bag and bringing it over to him, “It’s a cute little show, I think Zoey would really like it. But it’s got adult appeal too.” He took the flier from her hand, looking over the familiar red and white stripes of The Cat in the Hat’s hat. His eyes flickered to the floor and back up, a smile on his face. “We’ll be sure to check it out, expect us there Saturday?” 

Her face got a little red at the situation and that made Alex chuckle a little. “I will see you two Saturday, hopefully,” she agreed, looking between Alex and Zoey. Alex finally walked over to Zoey and picked her up, despite her fussing against him. “C’mon, Zo, I bet Ms. Holly has her own practice she needs to do tonight. We can keep practicin’ your dance at home.” She defeatedly buried her face in his shoulder, sniffling occasionally. Alex headed to the door, propping it open by leaning on it as he gave her a wave goodbye, flier in hand. “Say ‘Bye, Ms. Holly’,” he encouraged his little one, who responded with a whine instead. “Have a good night, Holly,” he finished, walking out with his grumpy toddler on his hip.

#zoey. age 4 #oneshot ; alex

[vide0-nasties]

A Punishing Few

Pairings: Julian/Asra, Asra/MC, Julian/MC

Content Warnings: Blood imagery, imbalanced relationship dynamics, unhealthy and poorly defined relationship boundaries, vague dream sex, vague dream voyeurism

Word Count: 3992

Author’s Note: My apprentice, Eustacia, is heavily featured in this bad boy, but she doesn’t actually show up until the end. This is also a much, much bleaker fic than ‘I Do Not Love You.’

---

It’s the cruel part of Asra that makes the incomparable comparisons. It’s this cruel part of him that says Ilya’s mouth doesn’t taste like Eustacia’s, and that’s why he doesn’t kiss him nearly as much.

Ilya’s mouth is coffee, leather, paper pulp. The dust taste of libraries, tombs, and colleges the doctor never went to.

Eustacia’s was metallic—gold and blood ghosts. Fresh-turned earth and the clean, fat rain that feeds it. The prickling high note of seawater, lingering in his sinuses, stinging his eyes if they were anything but closed.

If Asra shuts off his senses—shuts his eyes, blocks his ears, numbs his hands, and blots out Ilya’s—he can almost taste her. Coffee isn’t so different from metal, nor leather from wet land.

A slantways rhyme—forcing two things together because they’re close enough.

+

They’re both possessed of greedy hands.

Eustacia was grabby and tactile. She lived off physical contact and faded if that need—and it was a need—was neglected. Asra loved being touched by her. She touched him in the way a pantheon deity might touch a mortal with whom they’d fallen in love: with never-ending surprise and delight.

Constant and experimental exploration, trying their damnedest to find a breaking point, and then pushing the littlest bit further. Not enough to damage, just enough to sate their ageless curiosity.

Ilya touches him nervously, a curator holding an ancient and priceless artifact or holy text that might crumble into ash out of pure spite. Wide-eyed marvel and disbelief—out of the entire world, I get to touch? is the question his hands ask with every landing.

Ilya is the mortal that has fallen in love with a pantheon deity. Asra, knowing how it feels to love this entity that faces down eternities, tries to be gentle and forthright in return.

This will not last forever.

Do not count on sustaining yourself with these table scraps the rest of your days.

Someday, the hand that you adore is going to stop feeding you and return to the feast.

Asra’s warnings are heard, but unheeded. Ilya is not a bad man. He’s a very good man. But he is a fool, his hope a barb that he sticks himself with, ending up sick.

Please, Ilya, please. Asra doesn’t want to break his heart, because it’s a soft and wounded thing that doesn’t know how to stop bleeding, and never thought to learn how, but Asra waits on—

If he completes the thought—waiting on something better—he won’t be able to stand himself, or look at Ilya, for at least the rest of the day.

+

Ilya stands over his desk, and Asra feels hateful while bitterly missing a ghost. The picture is all wrong, but the rhyme is slantways and Asra is the one frustrated at the way it doesn’t fit together.

The hair is not dark enough, nor are the eyes. The nails are too short, bitten, on ten fingers instead of twelve. The hips are too thin, the curve of haunch and shank hardly a curve at all. The tip of the nose aims for the floor, and the bridge is too curved.

Asra presses his eyes closed, and rubs the heels of his hands into them.

Ilya cannot help it. He doesn’t deserve this silent scorn. He doesn’t even know of Asra’s commitment to the ghost that haunts him.

They’re both beautiful, and the fault lies with Asra, because he can’t stop thinking that Ilya isn’t beautiful in the right ways. He rises to his feet, intent on soothing his own mind and silently apologizing to the oblivious doctor.

When Ilya jolts into Asra’s hand as it skates up the gullet of his spine between his shoulders, Asra’s relieved that it’s warmth and fondness curling in his stomach and not resentment. “You look tense, Ilya. Standing on these floors is going to ruin your back.”

“Well, I’m not, ah, it’s not as if I’m standing in—it’s not like I’m standing in one place. I’m moving, and I set. Sometimes.” He looks distracted and slightly confused, blinking forcefully.

He was really, really thinking, and Asra pulled him from it, throwing him to an in-between place to scrape together his bearings. He can’t help his humming laugh, thinking of Ilya being so immersed in his work, he could’ve very well been alone in the middle of a barren desert and never noticed.

Recognition sweeps over Ilya, and a grin pulls at his mouth—

Almost right, not perfect. Too rounded, sloping. Teeth are too straight, too small, no gold canines. No dimples—

“Besides, you know how I am—think better when I’m on the move. Pacing ruts in the floor, wearing out carpets. If I didn’t wear boots, my legs would probably end in ankles,” he laughs, raking the bright hair out of his brighter eyes. “Wouldn’t that be a shit-show? I could probably land a cushy living at a medical college, though…maybe get my doctorate, all the bells and whistles.”

“Take a break?” Asra asks, kneading his fingers into the muscles at the base of Ilya’s skull, feeling the way they’re bound up like a clenched fist. “Get some lunch, rub your neck. I could crack it. It’ll feel like you have a brand new one after.”

In time, he’ll learn to keep these gestures and offerings off the table, once he understands how well it feeds Ilya’s sad, starved little heart and stokes the furnace of his hope.

Right now, he wants to feel Eustacia, even if it’s only through applying something she’d taught him on someone else, trying to imagine her hands untying the knots in his muscle and unlocking his seized skeleton.

+

Asra has dreams where he and Eustacia stand in the meadowlands with mud up to their knees, catching falling stars with their bare hands. She catches nine and strings them together in a crown, settling it on his curls.

They don’t burn at all.

Gladly, she eats a fallen star right out of his hands, making her eyes and mouth glow like moonlight when she throws her head back to laugh.

He reaches for her, she reaches back, and when their mouths meet, the light inside her lights him up, too.

+

Asra has dreams of warm smothering. He knows these are Ilya.

+

Ilya comes to his door wearing gin blossoms and swaying. A bottle of dark liquor sloshes in his unsteady hands, spilling on the carpet, beads rolling down the back of his hands. It reeks and creates an enormous, blooming smell that will be inescapable for days.

“Hyyello, muh dearrr,” he slurs, slouching against the doorjamb to meet Asra’s height. Asra’s not sure whether the move was intentional, but he is sure that his irritation is growing into something larger and meaner.

Something that bears sharper claws and bigger teeth.

Something that resembles Eustacia.

“What are you doing, Ilya?” he hisses.

“M’just…heh, heee, just here to pay my favorite magician a houzze call. Is there something wrong with that? Would you tell me so, Asra?” His name comes out a sliver-sharp hiss, two snake syllables forced between the teeth. Ilya gives the bottle a jiggle, thankfully not spilling anymore. “Had some left, aaand I thought of you. Y’know what they say—sharing’s for friends. Or…caring. Or something. Hm.”

You’re drunk, Asra starts to say, but the words never leave his mouth.

Ilya crashes into him, an arm around his shoulders, trying to cradle his head. His face is hot, his mouth is hot, and so are the tears he immediately starts to cry.

Anger surges up Asra’s throat like vomit, scorching him from the bottom of his lungs to the tip of his tongue. His hands curl into Ilya’s shirt, forceful enough to make the threads holding his seams together groan, and his mind screams with indignation, a wild and threatened animal.

A searing chant: Eustacia-would-never-Eustacia-would-never-Eustacia-would-never—

Eustacia WOULD.

The realization booms through his body, almost blows out the sides of his skull.

Eustacia would never have kissed him like this, with some half-planned sentiments swimming around the bottom of a bottle drained for courage, but she would’ve loved him like this, and she did.

She loved him like digging fingers into a bruise or a cut.

She loved him like it was a curse was put on her by a cruel witch as a newborn: to fall a little in love with most everyone she met, and then fall harder for a punishing few.

The only difference between Eustacia and Ilya is that Asra loved Eustacia back. He was the first person in her life to have ever loved her back, and he had to fight tooth and nail for her to understand that he did.

He loved her with everything in him.

He does not love Ilya.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Ilya simpers, words melting and fusing together because of his drunkenness, trying to pull Asra closer. “Tell me—tell me what I can do. I’ll change, I’ll change for you. However you want, you need. I’ll be what you want me—”

“Ilya,” Asra snaps against his mouth, pulling back and catching his eyes. “You. Are. Drunk. You need to sleep.”

After more tears and a halfhearted, one-line argument, Ilya allows himself to be led to Asra’s bed, passing out immediately. He sleeps and sleeps, and, in the morning, wakes up with apologizes in his mouth. He sends flowers.

Asra gives them back in the library that afternoon, silencing Ilya’s embarrassment with a quietly raised hand. It has been far overdue, long misunderstood, and he intends to rectify this mistake. “I’ve misled you, Ilya, and I’m sorry for that. I wasn’t clear enough about my limits.”

At one time, Eustacia had laughed and called him heartless. She had traced the nail of her little finger in the shape of a heart over his chest, and asked how that crater felt.

Watching Ilya’s face fall, hearing the echo of the hairline fractures disfiguring his heart, the crater in Asra’s chest feels nothing except hollow.

+

Asra has dreams that he is in a place that Eustacia can’t follow. Not yet.

In her hands, she holds a golden compass that has never pointed north. On her head, she wears a crown of nine stars sewn together. Her palms are split open, and they bleed all over the palace’s marble floors, and where the blood drops, sigils begin to blaze.

Be careful, Asra tries to plea, Eustacia, I need you to be careful. I can’t find you, but I’m looking, I’ve never stopped trying to find you.

Ilya walks beside her, and he notices none of it. He only looks at her like she is the answer to every question he’s had in his entire life.

“If I show you a weird and wonderful thing,” she says, and Asra’s stricken by her deep, rolling accent cutting him to the quick, “would you hold it for me?”

“Until my hands fell apart, yes, I would. Forever and ever, just because you asked so nicely,” Ilya laughs, and he smiles when she holds up the compass for his eyes.

The needle spins so fast it’s only a blur, jerking to a stop only to spin the other direction. It can’t decide a direction, a place to stop, until it does.

I don’t touch the compass anymore, Asra tries to confess, I can’t stand the way it won’t find you. It hurts. I can’t think when I think about you.

It points at Ilya, and then it moves again.

She drops it, blood-slick in his hands, and the needle doesn’t blur itself. One lazy, sweeping circle, and it points steadfastly in her direction. “Amazing,” Ilya breathes, glancing up at her. “That’s amazing. What does it mean?”

They are in bed together. Ilya’s bed. She’s on her back, her mink-dark hair is a mess, and her clothes are long forgotten on the floor, mixed with Ilya’s. Both sets are so dark, it’s impossible to parse what belongs to whom.

She pitches her head back and laughs when he takes her by the ankles and practically pulls her into his lap. He ducks down and buries his face in her neck. Her fingers disappear into his hair, and she hiccups in surprise when he plunges into her, her eyes blown wide open, her mouth a grinning, empty bear trap.

Ilya’s back is a tilled field of red, weeping furrows from his shoulders to his hips, a darker color than the handprints Eustacia has left on him. His breathing shudders when she begins to whisper against his ear, her palms making his shoulder, his neck, his temple a canvas for her blood.

You’re bad for each other, Asra tries to tell her, you’re going to stop making light. You’re going to burn out.

Ilya fucks her harder, moaning against her mouth. He chokes on a gasp when she throws her legs around his waist and drives him hard into her. “The moment between my birth and my first breath, my mother took me by the throat and feet, and she broke me over her knee,” she laughs against Ilya’s lips.

It is a story Asra has only heard in her dreams, and only because she dreams loudly.

“There is no one that will love you like I love you, she told me. Kissing my mouth to silence the screaming, she told me, you are mine, and only mine, and only mine, and only-only mine.”

I don’t love you like that, Asra tries to shout, I never loved you like that. Ilya will love you that way, and you’ll hate him for it.

She leaves the story and leans up to Ilya’s searching mouth, listens to the strange poem he breathes into her, “Early this morning, late last night, two dead men rose up to fight. Back to back, they faced one another, drew their swords and shot one another.”

+

Asra has dreams of being trapped inside a coffin. He knows these are Ilya.

+

Even from the beginning, Ilya was an eccentric person. Jittery and gliding by turn, a stammering shipwreck of a human being, then a master showman.

In his three ring circus, Ilya is the ringleader, the acrobats, the clowns, the tigers, the sideshow attractions, and the dunk tank, all wrapped into one powerfully confusing and irritating package.

When the eccentricities turn into erratic behavior, however, Asra finds himself putting his weight on his back foot and preparing himself for the worst. While he wants to protect himself, he’s also dumbfounded that he is terrified for the doctor at the same time.

Day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, Ilya seems to lurch into violently shifting personalities. He is cool and withdrawn, then he is loud and brazen, and after that, he becomes bright and jovial. He slings jokes in a deadpan, he distances himself from the servants, then flirts filthily with anyone that will stop near him.

On the inside of a week, Ilya has solidified this upsetting behavior into a cohesive whole, and Asra is drawn to him and repulsed at the same time. He justifies this attraction with his concern: there is a reason Ilya has been acting this way, and he has to know if that reason is a danger to anyone else.

Asra warms to him again, and he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like the absurdities coming from Ilya’s mouth, his strange new cadence, his easy and lazy repose. It isn’t Ilya.

But it comes to him, and, of course, it comes in the form of a ghost.

Already, Ilya had been too close a mirror to Eustacia for comfort, but seeing this carefully crafted façade makes images flash over Asra’s vision, and he is disgusted with himself for being so desperate, for allowing himself to be so easily read.

Ilya was experimenting on himself—finding the skin that Asra would best respond to, and slipping into it like an outfit. Testing him, finding the most pleasing cues to take. Changing himself to suit Asra’s needs and desires.

The doctor has fabricated a Eustacia-skin suit, and Asra can’t breathe.

He can’t breathe, so he cuts off what is strangling him.

Asra is at the palace for his own purposes. Ilya has never, ever been one of them.

+

Asra has dreams about eyes as black as the new moon, teeth more ivory than enamel, and hands with too many fingers. Eustacia sings sealsongs in her sleep, and she wakes up to kiss him. Eustacia isn’t human, and she loves him as one of her punishing few. Eustacia is a monster, and she laughs and tells him that she is his monster.

He tells her that he can’t wait for her to come home, that he never wants to be apart again.

She tells him soon. She will be home soon.

+

Asra has dreams about warm smothering, and being trapped inside coffins, and burning in body pits, and drinking blood, and forcing curses. He knows these are Ilya, and he forces himself to wake up.

+

Ilya has long since stopped being a reliable diversion, but now he’s turning from a possible problem to an outright liability. He presses and prostrates himself, foolhardy and blind to Asra’s real desires and motives.

This is the one saving grace of the situation—Asra has never let Ilya as close as Ilya wanted to be. He has to be concerned about Ilya’s white knight ideas, but he doesn’t have to worry about Ilya toppling his plans like a poorly-built tower.

Asra is so close. Eustacia is so close.

That’s his solace, his goal, his peace.

More and more, Ilya knows to stay clear of him. He no longer visits Asra’s room in the dead of night, he no longer speaks romantically the rare times they do speak. There are no compliments, there are no flowers.

He’s withdrawn, but Asra can’t find anything to enjoy about it.

Ilya might’ve backed off, but when his eyes land on him, they burst into flame the way they do when he thinks he’s found the cure to the plague, and he’s absolutely certain that this time it will work. That can only portend truly bad things, and Asra takes his time shoring up the protection spells on his room at the palace, on the shop in the marketplace, and on his own body.

Using a mirror and stretching as much as he humanly can, Asra dips his fingers into some of Eustacia’s old, blessed ink he’d spirited from the shop, and draws two of her dedicated sigils comprised of runes between his shoulder blades, and a third on the small of his back.

Soundness of mind, solidity of body, and savagery of wit.

The ink glows with his magic, and settles into his skin, leaving him feeling warm and less exposed. The shapes are sloppy, but legible when he looks at them in a bigger mirror, and his heart starts to hammer an off-beat tattoo at the thought that, soon, he will get to see her crisp images once again, all painted with her long, sharp nails.

Or, maybe not. She always kept her nails clipped short for him.

“You’ve got something on your back,” Ilya notes drily around the tincture clamped in his teeth, passing him in the library with a stack of books in his arms that weigh down his entire top half. Asra yanks up his shirt collar, but Ilya says nothing further, dumping the books on his desk and submerging himself in his gruesome diagrams.

“Is there…something on your back?” Nadi asks, hours later, as she gently pulls the fabric of his shirt down for a quick look. “Oh, Asra. I do hope you know what you’re doing with…whatever that may be.”

Asra lets her look, but he doesn’t provide any further information or assurance. The hour is drawing closer and closer to none, and Eustacia will be returned from the place he could not follow. He will retrieve her himself.

He offers the Countess more tea, and looks at her through his lashes with an easy smile as he pours to her mark. She leans forward, the picture of grace, and retrieves her cup.

If there is only one, single thing he will miss about the palace, it will be Nadi.

He’ll miss her bravery, her cunning, her intellect, and her biting wit terribly. He will miss playing chess, walking the gardens, and splashing in the fountain with her.

He will miss disparaging her husband, too, but that is a sorrow he’s more than willing to deal with.

“Asra,” she starts, waiting until she has his full attention to continue. “Have you noticed anything amiss concerning Doctor Devorak? I can’t help but ruminate on his absence as of late, and I’m becoming concerned by his demeanor when he does surface from his work.”

Asra only purses his mouth thoughtfully, shaking his head. “I have, but I think he’s convinced that he’s on the brink of a breakthrough. It might be better if he was allowed some space.”

Nadi sighs and lets her eyes drift to the gardens below them. “I’m sure you’re right, Asra. At the very least, I do hope it is so.”

+

Years have passed since Eustacia came back incomplete. Not wrong, but not whole either. Asra has broken her many times trying to fit her pieces back together, but the woman he speaks to in the water today more resembles the woman he’d known before than she ever has.

She eats pumpkin bread with her long nails, speaking to him excitedly, and he still drinks it up with relief. Her excitement tastes like her magic—crisp and golden, like nectar, seductive and glowing, like honey.

Her hair has air-dried into waves like frayed ribbons falling into her makeup-free face, and he can look straight at her and think not at all of slantways rhymes and bodies beautiful in the wrong ways, only that, out of every face he has seen in his entire life, this is his favorite.

A little beastly, a bit monstrous, but so familiar he would recognize it in the next life, and the one after that.

It hurts him that she remembers nothing of him, let alone her history, but he is still relieved everyday that she’s here at all, existing in the same world he does.

She slaps her hand on the lip of the fountain and forces a hard swallow down her tattooed throat, her new moon black eyes wide. “Such a tit I am, master, I haven’t told you the wildest part of this idiotic tale. After the Countess left, Doctor Jules broke into the shop.”

Ice lances through Asra’s chest, grabbing his lungs in a fist so he can hardly breathe. “What?”

“Doctor Jules. The murderer. He broke into the shop…” she frowns and looks down at her knuckles, “he was looking for you.”

“Did he try to hurt you?” Asra breathes, sitting forward, desperately wishing he was next to her.

“There’s something in me that thinks it wasn’t his intent,” she admits. “I went on him, as I am wont to do by nature, but he never put hands on me except in defending himself. Then he wanted his cards read. He’s…a strange man. Strange enough that I might even feel a little tenderly for the poor sob, murderer or not.”

The lance widens, turns into a sword, moves in such a way that Asra thinks he’ll be sliced in half from the inside.

Ilya has found the one person Asra values most in the world, he is nigh-on impossible to stop once he has his mind around an idea. She falls a little in love with most everyone she meets, and very hard for a punishing few.

Ilya, Asra can already see, will be one of Eustacia’s punishing few.

#the arcana #the arcana fanfic #asra #julian devorak #asrian #asra x mc #julian x mc #who's ready for more inconsistent nonsense? i know i'm not #i've never written anything less than 1k words and it looks like i'm not about to start #rags wrote a thing #i think me and this pairing are done-zo for a while

[wosoimagines]

The Secret Is Out - Jill Roord/Reader

prompt: hi um could you maybe just maybe do a jill roord x reader where the reader plays for arsenal and the uswnt and they win the world cup and no one knows they’re dating and the r or jill accidentally like do something? idk if that makes sense but if you dont want to that’s perfectly fine! hope you are doing well! all love. Okay, look. There are some Dutch translations here. I don’t know if they’re right because I used google translate. If they are wrong and you speak Dutch, please tell me so I can fix them.

warnings: None.

words: 1919

(Y/N) POV

I cheered as soon as the final whistle blew. I had finally done it. I had finally won my first World Cup. After being one of the last players passed over during the 2015 World Cup, it felt amazing to win now in 2019 and to be such a big reason as to why we won.

Although I was happy, there was a part of me that knew that I had ruined a World Cup run for one of the most important people in my life. I immediately looked to search for the Dutch woman who had stole my heart. My smile fell a little at the heartbroken look on her face.

I caught her eye and she smiled at me. I went to move toward her, but before I could, someone had jumped on my back cheering. I wasn’t surprised that it was Sonnett. Lindsey, of course, joined where Sonnett was and Mal and Rose weren’t far behind her. 

Jill shook her head and it did hurt a little that she didn’t want me to join her. But I understood. My team wanted to celebrate and Jill probably just wanted to be with her teammates right now. I glanced to see how Danielle and Viv were as well as Sari. I wasn’t surprised when I watched Jill go join Viv. I knew that the two of them were really close.

Lindsey managed to wrangle Sonnett off my back just before Rose and Mal threw confetti on top of me. I grinned at them as I shook my head to get the few that stuck to my head off of me. I was a little surprised that it was Tierna who had dragged me back to where the team was celebrating on the pitch. I wasn’t too surprised when Christen and Tobin immediately joined me considering that they were my team moms.

We eventually were given our medals and I was a little surprised to find that I had won the bronze boot along with the bronze ball. I had taken a picture of the awards with Megan and Alex since they both won awards as well. I couldn’t help it as my attention was drawn to Jill. I was able to eventually hand my awards off so that they would make it back to the hotel.

Christen and Tobin had stopped me when I moved to go over to Jill. They both congratulated me and I had thanked them. I knew that I would never be the player I was without them taking me under their wing and helping me. I eventually was able to get past them and to the Dutch midfielder that I had been trying to get to.

“Hey,” I softly said.

Jill smiled at me even through her tears. I immediately hugged her. Jill held on tightly to me. The past two months had been hard for both of us to be so close to each other but not able to see each other.

“I’m proud of you,” Jill mumbled into my neck. I pulled back from her and smiled at her. “I’m really proud. I want your jersey.”

“You want to swap?”

The fact that Jill wanted to swap our jerseys even though they would end up at my apartment in London soon enough confused me. Everyone knew that Jill had signed with Arsenal, and while a lot of her stuff was at the apartment, we didn’t have time to unpack it before the two of us had left for the World Cup.

“No, I just want your jersey eventually,” Jill shook her head. I still wasn’t sure what she wanted it for.

“It’s probably going to smell like alcohol after tonight,” I chuckled. I knew that my jersey was probably going to get soaked in alcohol as soon as we entered the locker room.

“(Y/N)!”

I glanced over my shoulder to see Sonnett running toward me with a grin and a white jersey in her hand. Sonnett stopped beside Jill and I before holding the jersey out to me.

“Dude, they got us these cool jerseys,” Sonnett immediately started to say. I knew that if I didn’t get her to leave soon then I wouldn’t get to talk to Jill until after we left the arena. “There’s one for all of us.”

“Cool,” I said as I took the jersey. I glanced at Jill who looked ready to leave.

“Ik bel je later,” Jill muttered causing me to grab on her wrist. (I will call you later.)

“Nee wacht. Geef me een moment om van haar af te komen,” I said causing Sonnett to look surprised at the fact that I knew Dutch. Jill looked surprised that I was willing to get rid of my teammate. (No, wait. Give me just a moment to get rid of her.)

“Can you make sure that there’s some actual beer saved for me to drink and not to just spray around everywhere?” I asked Sonnett.

The defender immediately perked at the mention of beer. Sonnett nodded before rushing off to make sure we had beer to drink. I turned back to Jill before pulling my game jersey off.

“Here, this way I can’t lose it cause you know I lose everything,” I said. Jill chuckled a little at the before taking the jersey from me. 

I saw Jill’s eyes wander down to my waist and she smiled at the new tattoo that I had. I hadn’t shown her yet due to the fact that I had gotten it just after Jill had left to join her own national team and I wanted Jill to see it in person rather than as a picture.

“You actually got it,” Jill whispered.

“Yeah, I did,” I nodded. Jill touched the tattoo and lightly traced it. “Your handwriting and all. I figured it was appropriate since you were the one who started to call me Schatje.” (Little treasure.)

I pulled the jersey Sonnett had given me over my head. I glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone from my team was going to come to drag me away. I wasn’t too surprised that Christen and Tobin were headed my way, but I was surprised by the fact that the whole team was headed here. I looked back at Jill.

“I know we said we didn’t want to go public with our relationship until we got into a groove with both of us being at Arsenal, but my teammates got their kisses from their partners and, it’s been a while-”

I couldn’t finish what I was saying because Jill had pulled me closer to her. I immediately kissed the Dutch player back when I felt her lips crash into mine. I ignored the cheers and shouts behind me, but apparently Jill didn’t because she pulled back not long after. Jill glanced behind me before giving me a kiss by my ear.

“Go join your teammates. I have a room for us at a different hotel where we can have our own little party after you guys get done.”

My jaw slacked but I didn’t have time to say anything to Jill because she had already turned and ran to join her own teammates. I felt someone sling their arm around my shoulder.

“Way to get some, (Y/N),” Ash cheered right in my ear. I wasn’t too surprised that Ali slapped the back of Ash’s head causing the goalie to grumble and rub the back of her head. 

“Hey, Roord!” I called out. Jill turned around to look at me. “Ik hou van je, lieverd.” (I love you, sweetheart.)

“Ik hou ook van je.” (I love you too.)

“Oi, (Y/N)! What about me?”

I shook my head at Danielle. She often teased me over the past two years whenever Jill would call me since we were in different countries. But Danielle had been ready to throw hands for me many times during our matches for Arsenal. 

“Je bent zo behoeftig,” I complained. Danielle threw a glare at me and I laughed at her. “Ik hou ook van jou, kleine krijger.” (You’re so needy. I love you as well, little warrior.)

Danielle smirked at that and I saw her turn to brag about it to Jill. I only shook my head at them before turning to my teammates. I swiped the beer from Kelley’s hand before she could drink from it. Before the older defender could do anything, Christen and Tobin had already moved to my sides probably to talk to me about the relationship I had with Jill. I couldn’t help but smile as I told them about the Dutch woman who had stolen my heart.

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

I grinned as Jill came out of the bathroom. I was already dressed since I was having to leave today to head to the US for our celebration. Jill was going to take her time, however, since her team wouldn’t be flying out until much later. Jill was dressed in one of my oversized shirts and a pair of shorts.

“What are you smiling about?”

“How lucky I am,” I said as I stood up from the foot of the bed. “I mean, I just won the World Cup and the woman I want to spend the rest of my life is still here even though she’s the one I had to beat to win the World Cup.”

“You want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

“I mean, yeah, why wouldn’t I?” I furrowed my brow in confusion. “Jill, I’ve been dating you for 3 years now. If I didn’t seriously see us together for the rest of my life, then I wouldn’t still be with you. One day, I’m going to marry you.”

“I also can’t believe you would think that I would leave you because you beat me for the World Cup,” Jill shook her head. She pressed a kiss to my lips. “I can’t wait for you to make me yours forever.”

I grinned as I wrapped my arms around her waist. I wished we could stay like this forever. But sadly we couldn’t. I did have a plane to catch soon.

“I’ll see you in London?”

“Of course you will,” Jill nodded. Jill pulled back from me before digging through her bag. “I have something for you. I was going to wait until we got back to London, but I might as well give it to you now.”

I took the little black box from her and smiled. I opened the box and chuckled when I saw the ring. The ring was a simple silver band with a designed etched into it. I slid the ring onto my finger before pulling my own small black box from my bag.

“I kind of got you one too,” I said as Jill took the box from me. “We were shopping for a ring for Tobin to give to Christen and I wanted to do something special for you. I’m not asking you to marry me, but this is a promise that I will marry you one day.”

Jill grinned before she kissed me. I smiled when she pulled back.

“I’ll see you in London, okay?”

The Dutch woman gave me one last kiss before I grabbed my bags and headed out of the room. I gave her a small wave just before I closed the door behind me. I couldn’t wait for the celebrations to be over and to be on a plane back to London.

#jill roord imagine #jill roord imagines #jill roord x reader #Jill roord #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #uswnt #arsenal imagine #arsenal imagines #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc imagines #arsenal wfc x reader

[poppysmc]

I Don't Know How You Do It But I'm Forever Ruined

Notes: This has been sitting in my drafts for so so long, unfinished with a different song and Im just obsessed with this song right now so I thought I'd go ahead and post it.. sorry for the mistakes I don't have a beta so they're all mine. I'm just slowly getting back to writing again, please be patient with me. ❤️

Song: Off my face - Justin Bieber

(One shot)

Last and certainly not the least…. Ms. Morgan Hughes, she’ll be gracing us with her angelic voice, singing… uhh… Off my face? Thomas reads the cue cards, slightly puzzled, he thought Morgan would be doing stand-up, he and Morgan’s posse endured long nights of practicing her stand-up routine and now she’s just gonna sing, it’s not even vetted on.

He glances to the side, silently confirming if it was right. Morgan nods and smiles nervously. He in turn smiles back, giving an encouraging thumbs up and a whisper of ‘good luck’ as she takes to the stage.

Some of the audience chuckled at the name choice, adding to the ever growing lump lodged in her throat. This is definitely not her best idea and before she could go ranting about the title, some of her friends clapped and cheered, giving her a slight boost of confidence.

She wrote thet a few months ago, absently plucking at the guitar strings. She’s got the same few chords stuck in her head for week. Only god knows how she pulled the lyrics out of her muddled brain.

How does one go about sharing her feelings for someone who has no idea? Said someone sitting front and center with a scowl, sitting next to her parents. She has no idea she wrote it for her, she sighs in relief.

For a split second she could see Poppy’s attention snap up to her, smirking and raising her eyebrow in question. Morgan rolls her eyes at her and settled into her chair and just like Poppy’s face never moved, her scowl was back in place, listening to Chloe rant about her talent to her right.

She starts plucking out the intro, it’s now or never.

One touch and you got me stoned

Higher than I’ve ever known

You call the shots and I’ll follow

Sunrise but the night’s still young

No words but we’re speaking tongues

If you let me I might say too much

Sometimes people just enter your life and burrow themselves so deep into it that for the life of you, you couldn't remember when it all started. This case was different, Morgan could vividly remember a day it all changed, how it became harder for her to even look Poppy in the eye for more than a few seconds. How her warm touch roughly pulling her back to the argument now seemed to burn through her sleeves, pressure slightly softer. She used to meet her hot gaze, faces only inches apart spitting out vicious insults without thinking much, now she didn’t have the same fire in her veins she seemed to have arguing with Poppy.

The need to antagonize her fizzled into something else, a warmth that threatens to overtake her made itself a home in her chest.

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

Morgan wanted to stay home, as much as she enjoyed parties, it wasn’t something she wanted to do regularly. Sometimes it gets a little too much to handle, the music felt too loud, the people got too close, the eyes on her felt stifling. She wanted to be free just this one night out of expectant looks but Zoey is too convincing, her puppy dog eyes are too powerful for a mere mortal like herself. She made a condition to just be at the party no over the top expensive clothes, just herself.

“I’ll come but just to be your glorified chauffer.” She dresses herself in something simple, a pair of black pants and flannel. “I just want to be invisible this one night, Zo.”

“Fine by me, but if your fashion choices end up splashed all over The T tomorrow don’t come crying to me.” Zoey shakes her head, the slight dig on her wardrobe is softened by a thankful grin.

“You get dragged on The T once, and no one lets you live it down.”

“Because I’m pretty certain I said don’t go out in that, it’s suicide. So yeah I would never let it go, you wore socks with your flip-flops and had the audacity to show yourself in public.”

“It’s not even my fault, sunny ran out the door. I had no time to check what I was wearing."

“You’ll never learn. Whatever will you do without me?” Zoey smirks and shakes her head affectionately. "Stop stalling and let’s go. My carriage awaits dear chauffer.”

“Yeah, yeah. Please allow me to escort you down, boss.” Morgan bumps her shoulders with Zoey as she passes by to grab her jacket. She opens the door and offers her arm, Zoey laughs and loops her arms around hers.

The party was already in full swing once they arrived. The music was blaring; the bass makes Morgan’s chest thump along erratically with every beat. “Text me, okay? I’ll make myself scarce.”

“Sure. Thanks for driving.” Zoey winks and beelines for the bar. In a few seconds she loses sight of her.

Morgan trudges through the house, the crowd gradually thins as she makes her way farther to the back. She exhales in relief finally free of the maze of drunk students with no boundaries, nobody seemed to pay attention to her, thank god for the dim lighting. The backdoor swings open, she breathes in the crisp night air. The door shuts and party fades into muffled thumps. She sat on the porch steps, her side leaning against the banister, oblivious to the pair of eyes quietly observing her.

After a minute of silence, Morgan sucked air through her clenched teeth, surprised at hearing someone pointedly clearing their throat behind her. The rate in which her head whipped back almost made her dizzy. When she recognizes who the person was, she could already feel the headache coming through, she almost swallows her tongue in disbelief. Of all the people she didn’t want to see her tonight was Poppy, yet here she was, alone with her.

“What are you doing back here?” Poppy asked, voice devoid of any venom just genuinely curious.

“Do I need permission to be? Who made you queen?” Morgan scoffs, the slight bite in her voice comes through and makes Poppy smirk.

“Belvoire.” Poppy cheekily answers, earning an undignified snort from Morgan. The slight tension momentarily forgotten.

“Should have seen that coming.”

“The party’s raging inside and little miss newbie sits here. What are you doing, really?” Poppy asks not unkindly, voice tinged with concern and curiosity.

“I could ask the same to you.”

“I asked first.” Poppy frowns impatiently.

Morgan sighs, opting to just answer just to avoid trouble. She didn’t have the energy to make up excuses nor to argue. “I don’t feel like partying today. I’m just waiting for Zoey to get flat out drunk and drive her home. My turn.”

“It’s-  It’s overwhelming inside. I just want to be alone for a while.” The honesty in Poppy’s answer momentarily throws her off.

“Do you want me to go?” Morgan asks, feeling like she’s intruding. This must be the longest record they ever had being civil to one another, actually speaking without the sarcastic comments and the insults. It makes her feel out of place and awkward.

“You could do whatever you want. I’m not the queen of anything right now.” Right, cause technically it's Chloe. There’s something in her tone that makes Morgan’s heart clench, yet she shrugs it off as the bass from the party. To Morgan’s never ending surprise, the blonde pats the spot next to her on the bench. “The floor is filthy.” Poppy clarifies when she makes no move to stand. A disarming smile crosses her face, Morgan guessed her hesitation must have been showing.

Morgan stands and dusts herself off. “Who are you and what have you done to Poppy?” She asks with a grateful smile, sitting down the furthest she could from the other girl.

“I have half the mind to kick you off this bench.” Poppy grumbles.

“There she is.”

Poppy huffs out a half laugh and after that there’s just silence. After a while she could see the slight tremble in Poppy’s hand in her periphery. She wordlessly shrugs off the coat she’s wearing and offers it to the other girl.

“What?” Poppy blinks, eying her coat suspiciously, making Morgan chuckle in disbelief.

“You’re cold. Take it or go inside.”

“Fine.” Poppy slips on the offered garment, appreciating the warmth it gave to her cold limbs. She wasn’t thinking while she burrowed herself further, letting Morgan’s scent envelope her. She stared at Morgan, feeling guilty for a moment. She moves closer, Morgan shivers when their shoulders touched. "Thanks." Poppy whispers, if it wasn't for their proximity, Morgan might have missed it. She hoped the shadows hid the small smile spreading to her lips.

“I’m sorry for taking your coat. I just couldn’t go back inside. I-” Poppy trails off, breaking her gaze away and staring farther up the yard.

“It’s okay, I offered. You don’t have to explain anything.” Morgan understood, after today everything changed, she lost her spot to one of her friends. Morgan was somewhat surprised that instead of Poppy's explosive anger, she opted to just sit here and mope.

She jumps a little when her phone vibrates in her pocket, she could see Poppy smirk in the corner of her eye.

"Jumpy."

She reads the text and taps a reply, frowning. She turns to Poppy. She doesn't even know why she's explaining but it felt wrong to just go without saying anything. A part of her wanted to make this moment stretch a little longer, so she hesitates.

“Apparently Zoey doesn’t need me to drive her back. So... I guess I'll head back home." Morgan stands not having an excuse to stay longer and makes her way to the door, hands hovering over the door knob to open it but not before doing something stupid like asking her so called enemy if she wanted to drive around for a while.

“So… Do you still want company? We could drive around for a while?” Morgan mentally chastises herself for the suggestion. Of course Poppy would say no it’s not like she-

Morgan looks back at Poppy, she sees her worrying her bottom lip between her teeth in thought. Morgan’s gaze flickers down to her lips, wondering if they’re as soft as they looked. The moment passed and she breaks her gaze away just as Poppy decided.

“Sure but let me just get my stuff.” Poppy stands and makes her way to the door, Morgan standing motionless, hand over the handle. She reaches for it, her fingertips grazing Morgan’s, the slight static made her pull her hand away abruptly.

“Sorry.” Morgan breaks through her short circuited brain and moves to hold the door open for Poppy.  “I’ll wait for you out front.” Morgan makes her way back through the crowd, her mind reeling at what happened back there and what mess she got herself into.

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

She continued singing, her eyes accidentally meeting Poppy’s gaze again, her scowl was replaced by an unreadable expression, attention now focused solely on her and Morgan almost faltered. She breaks eye contact and stares at the back wall, ignoring the burning gaze upon her from those familiar eyes.

Your touch blurred my vision

It’s your world and I’m just in it

Even sober I’m not thinking straight

Cause I’m off my face in love with you

I’m out my head so into you

And I don’t know how you do it

But I’m forever ruined by you

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

The sound of the door opening breaks Morgan out of her deep thoughts. She could see Poppy walking towards her with a sour expression, she's still wearing Morgan's coat.

“What happened to you?” Morgan’s warm hands reaching out to her, settling comfortably on her shoulder. Poppy stares at her hands, she pulls it away like she’s been burned.

“Just drive.” Poppy mumbles, trying hard to be composed but failing.

“Where to?” Morgan pretends not to notice Poppy's agitation, barely glancing at her so she won't feel uncomfortable. She unlocks her car slipping inside while Poppy stares at the abomination in front of her.

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful but your truck is… I don’t know how to say it without offending you? But maybe it could use a good wash? Like you drove through mud to get here. I don’t know, maybe we could go to a carwash, my treat.”

"That’s about the rudest thing anyone’s ever said to me, and you said a lot of insulting things before." Morgan rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t mean that Betty, you just got a little mud on you.” She murmurs quietly.

“You named your car… Betty?”

“What? No I didn’t.” Morgan could see Poppy’s amused smirk even in her periphery.

“You’re such a dork.” Poppy can’t help but laugh at her mortified expression.

Morgan distracts herself from the rapidly rising heat on her neck by fiddling with the radio before driving off. The sweet sound of the guitar filtered through the car and she smiles triumphantly, previous embarrassment pushed to the back of her mind. She doesn't notice Poppy's expression soften.

Morgan drives her car through the carwash. They watched the water and the soap assault her car, the material of the brushes made a repetitive sound along with one of her favourite songs. Poppy had her seat leaned back, watching the machine rid the car of dust and mud. There was something mildly intimate about it, Morgan could move her right hand then they would be grazing Poppy’s, she could do it, she wanted to do it. But all she could manage was a slight twitch in her pinky, her hand doesn't move any closer.

“Do you ever feel like there’s a hundred people around you in a room, yet you feel alone?” Poppy breaks the silence, tilting her head slightly to the left to look at Morgan.

“Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes people may be looking at you yet feel as if their staring right through you, like your nothing. Oh! Like a ghost.” This makes Poppy chuckle.

“Yeah like that. It would have been easier if we were ghosts at least then you know why.”

“Did you feel like that back at the party?” Morgan wanted to say how that would have been impossible that no one could have seen her, she’s seeing her now. She wondered how could anyone ever take their eyes of her, she always seemed to be the brightest thing in any room she entered and now even in this dingy carwash she looked so radiant. How sometimes she thinks that she picks fights with her just for a chance to be bathed in her light. Thoughts she doesn't think would ever cross her mind trickled slowly and became a raging river. Now that she found herself here with her, without anything familiar to fall back on, anything just to distract herself out of her dangerous thoughts.

“Yeah, I don’t know. It was easier to be alone than surrounded but feeling alone. Do you get it? At least I know, I chose to be alone.”

“I get it.” If she had the ability to say more she would have but these few pathetic words are all she could manage. This time her hand reaches to squeeze Poppy’s. A quiet comfort to reinforce her words, she understood.

“Thank you.”

Whatever atmosphere they created in that moment fell apart when Morgan had to move her car forward and exited the wash.

“Where to now?”

“Your turn to choose.” Poppy mumbles, still staring blankly outside.

“Okay, I know a place. You're gonna love it."

“I’m not going to let you pick anymore.” Poppy complains, standing in front a fluorescent lit diner. It almost glowed but in a weird way, like a bat signal for the weary.

“Hey! They make the best food.” Morgan steps forward and drags her companion along when she hesitated.

Warmth and the ambient sound of cutlery grazing the plates makes Morgan smile. She always came here when she’s feeling lonely, missing her parents, their farm or when she’s stressed from school, for trying to fit in like a robot.

“Come. Don’t just stand there.” Morgan looks back at Poppy, her breath caught in her throat. Poppy looked ethereal against the most basic place there ever is. If you said diners were some kind of portal to somewhere else she’d accept it and move on, for she looked like she existed out of place, alien, untouchable as she was beautiful. For the second time this day her gaze flickers to Poppy’s lips, she realizes that she’s saying something and Morgan’s mortified of being caught staring like a fool.

“What? Is something on my face?” Poppy is thankfully oblivious.

“No, it’s perfect.” Morgan quietly whispers while Poppy checks herself in the diner’s window, her words falling into deaf ears.

Morgan balls up pieces of her straw paper places it over some torn up tissues, stacked together. She’s fidgeting under Poppy’s presence; she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.

She's startled when Poppy lightly grasps her hands stopping it from tearing up another piece of paper. It’s been minutes of watching Morgan tear up even rectangles of several tissues, a girl could only take so much.

“You’re making a mess.” Poppy chastises her like a child. She would have laughed but Poppy still hasn’t let go of her hand, it’s making her blush like an idiot.

“Sorry. It’s just that the food is taking a while huh?” Morgan stealthily tries to take her hand back but Poppy only holds it tighter. When they're not arguing, Morgan found that she doesn't know how else to act around her.

“Stop tearing paper like confetti.”

“Sorry.” Morgan sheepishly apologizes and Poppy lets go of her hand, hiding hers under the table, flexing it, she could still feel the warmth of her hand in hers.

The food arrives and Morgan smiles widely. Poppy stares, pretending she's interested in what food Morgan ordered. She admits to herself that for all the times she stared at her she never noticed how beautiful Morgan’s smile was. Arguing doesn't leave one space to insert a smile. It made her heart skip, imagining how it would be like if it was directed at her.

She almost misses Morgan stealing a fry off her plate. “Hey! If you wanted some you should have bought your own or at least politely asked.” Poppy mock glares at her companion, taking one of the crumpled balls and flicking it, hitting Morgan right between the eyes. They watched as the paper landed right into Morgan’s half empty milkshake glass.

"Your face!" Poppy laughs, wishing she could have captured it on camera.

Morgan found that she liked Poppy's laugh when it was genuine. “You better buy me another. You ruined mine.”

“What? It’s almost all gone anyway. All the needless calories you’re consuming will bite you in the ass someday.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Just have the rest of mine.” Poppy slides over her milkshake, Morgan grins and takes a sip right into Poppy’s straw. Poppy noticed first, eyes widening. Did She just… A revolting question crossed her mind, how would ‘Morgan’s lips feel like pressed to mine.’ Shes never felt jealous of a piece of plastic before in her life.

Morgan freezes when she realized what she’s done. She just had an indirect kiss with Poppy through the straw. “Sorry. I got excited.”

Poppy opens a new straw for her water, blowing the other end right into Morgans face, another bulls eye, she’s killing it. “Don’t overthink it.” She dismisses the act but her brain does summersaults inside her skull.

They finished eating, the last few of Poppy’s fries stolen right under her nose. She pretends she doesn’t see her sneaking a few of the fries away, she just lets her. Mind preoccupied with important things like Morgan’s lips.

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

Can’t sleep ‘cause I’m way too buzzed

Too late now you’re in my blood

I don’t hate the way you keep me up

Your touch blurred my vision

It’s your world and I’m just in it

Even sober I’m not thinking straight

Even if she doesn't look or at least tries her hardest not to, she could feel Poppy's gaze on her, burning, willing her eyes to look back. There's something wildly intimate about singing a song to someone and in the sea of strangers you know it's just for them. No matter how many people sang it, to another, to themselves or just for the heck of it, the song only belongs to the person you made it for. Just for her. They could never feel the way she felt when she wrote it, how her feelings were entwined with every word.

In her periphery she could see Poppy stand and make excuses to her parents. She left, she didn't see where she went, she doesn't dare look anywhere near where she was, she's a coward like that. All she could feel is disappointment. It takes everything in her not to show it on her face. Was it too late to change her talent to stand up?

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

"Come on Poppy, pick a place already. I've been driving around for hours! People will think we're stalking someone around here." Morgan whines in the driver seat taking yet another turn around the block.

"It's been exactly 20 minutes. You're such a baby." Poppy looks at her phone for any places that might still be open around this time. "Turn right, that's not right. Right! Not left."

"Great, now were going in circles. Pull over."  Poppy grumbles.

"What?" Morgan looks confused for a moment but does what she’s told anyway, parking along the street.

"Get out."  Poppy moves to exit the car.

"What are you..?"

"I'm not gonna hijack your car, just let me drive. You suck at following directions."

"...."

They switch seats, Morgan slumps and mopes in hers. Poppy fights back a smile.

“Would you look at that it only took 2 minutes.” Poppy smiles smugly.

“I did all the navigating you only had to turn once.” Morgan complains, getting out of the car and looking around the parking lot. “What the hell Poppy, a 711? You could have told me, I could have turned anywhere and found one.”

“Like hell you could. You don’t even know your left from your right.” Poppy laughs at Morgan’s offended expression. They walked in, shoulders brushing together and Morgan shivers, insisting to herself that it’s because it’s cold.

Poppy smiles, victoriously pulling out what they came here for out of the fridge.

“A freaking capri sun? We drove all the way here for that?” Morgan complains, ready to throttle Poppy. Though there’s something endearing in her expression, that proud smile for finding something she was looking for.

“Just go find something you want.” Poppy shoos her away, grabbing a few more pouches of juice. She shakes her head and walks off in search of snacks.

Morgan comes back with an armful of sweets and chips.

“We just ate. What are you doing? Take these back, I won't buy you all these.”

“You said something I like. I like them all. Come on aren't you rich?” Morgan dumps her haul in the counter, the cashier looking back and forth from them, looking for a sign that it’s okay to scan the items.

“Are you just an overgrown kid or what?”

“Pop, you just bought a juice in a pouch, you have no right to judge me.”

“Fine.”

Morgan carries three bags worth of snacks back to the car, Poppy not attempting to lift a finger just because she paid.

“Your turn. Pick a place.”

Minutes later they're on a cliff overlooking the city. Fading notes from a song playing in Morgan’s car filtered to the back.

“I'm surprised you didn't get lost.”

“I don't suck at directions. You're the one that sucked at giving them.” Morgan says in self-defence. She unlatches the back so they could sit on it, holding Poppy’s waist, helping her up. If Poppy noticed her hands shake, she didn’t say anything. They sat closer together, leaning against the side. She could feel the cold seeping into her shirt, making her shiver. Poppy notices and moves to take Morgan's coat off.

“No. Keep it on.” Morgan stops her, cold hands over equally cold ones.

“But you're cold.”

“I'm not.” Morgan attempts to refute it but her hands are freezing.

“I can see your teeth chattering.”

“I like it on you.” She smiles softly.

“What?”

“I don't want you to be cold. Just take it, don’t be stubborn.”

“If you speak of this to anyone, I would personally kill you in your sleep.”

“Why would you do- oh.” Morgan stared in confusion, then realization.

Poppy moved to sit in the space between her legs, leaning her back into Morgan, taking her hands and wrapping them to her waist. Her hands rubbing over Morgan's freezing ones. To say that she was now warm was an understatement, she was burning from the blush that overtook her body.

“If you wanted to be near me so bad you could've just asked.” Morgan grins, chin propped on Poppy's shoulder.

Poppy huffs and attempts to get up. Morgan's arms stop her, wrapping tighter, keeping her in place. “Don't move, I might freeze to death.”

“That's what I thought.”

They had a toast with the Capri sun pouches, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. They sat there talking for hours, the company was too enjoyable to give in to exhaustion or cold.

From the time they were talking Poppy shifted her position, now sitting on Morgan's lap, staring up at her while she told a story about their farm animals, making her scrunch her nose in disgust at one of her retellings.

They stared at the sky surprised to see the day chasing the night away. How long have they been talking? Morgan looks at her phone and even more surprised that it's nearly 6am. Time went by so fast.

“I always wanted to see the sunrise from here. Thanks for the company.” Morgan smiles softly, running her fingers through her hair to distract herself from Poppy.

No one mentioned how one of their hands are still interlaced together or how Morgan's thumb drew circles on the back. Especially not Poppy's lips softly grazing the underside of her jaw.

They watched in silence, both aware that as the night was done, so will this new moment they found together.

“I'll take you to back to your dorm.” Morgan reluctantly says, unwilling to move. It was Poppy who moved off her first.

Morgan slides off the back of her truck smirking at Poppy. “Want a piggy back ride?”

Poppy scoffs. But positions herself anyway, her arms wrapped on Morgan's shoulders, Morgan's hands holding her legs securely as she closes the small distance to the front of her car.

They drove back in silence, neither speaking of the moment, afraid it will be over soon.

Morgan stops her car in front of Poppy’s sorority house, tapping her fingers anxiously against the steering wheel.  No one talked nor moved for a minute or two, they just stared at each other feeling the change in whatever relationship they previously held. Poppy’s alarm goes off, effectively ruining their moment.

“I guess... I'll see you later. Good Morning, Poppy.” Morgan smiles softly, hands gripping the steering wheel too tightly, knuckles going white, stopping herself from reaching out.

“I’ll… see you later. Thank you for driving me around.” They both know they will see each other but not in the same capacity as tonight, they will be back to being rivals, enemies, whatever the school made them out to be. She could see Poppy fighting a losing battle against herself before she reached out and kissed the corner of Morgan's mouth. She turns away like nothing happened and exits the car without looking back.

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

Cause I’m off my face in love with you

I’m out my head so into you

And I don’t know how you do it

But I’m forever ruined by you

Cause I’m off my face in love with you

I’m out my head so into you

And I don’t know how you do it

But I’m forever ruined by you

Morgan stands and bows to the applause, yet she felt empty. It all felt useless somehow, she wasn't even there to hear the rest of it. She makes her way backstage, turning the corner as the next talent comes up. She felt like running but before she could turn and walk away, Poppy pushes herself off the wall and approached her. She gulped, unsure of what to do.

“Your voice is very beautiful.” Poppy tells her, voice almost as soft as a whisper. She's searching Morgan’s terrified eyes for something. “The song, did you write it?” She asks all the while moving closer, hands fiddling with the lapel of Morgan’s suit.

All she could do is nod, not trusting her voice at the moment. She takes a step back and another and another until her back is against the wall but Poppy follows her every step. Thank god they seemed alone or she would have burst into flames in embarrassment. Poppy steps closer until their bodies are almost touching.

“Who did you write that song for?”

“I...”

“Tell me.” Poppy looks up almost pleading, wanting to hear what she hoped to.

“It’s for you.” Morgan presses herself even more to the wall, wishing it would just swallow her up. She closes her eyes but it flies open when she heard Poppy gasp. “Are you surprised or?” Morgan trails off, observing Poppy’s expression going from astonished, to happy and outright tearing up.

“I can’t believe you wrote that song for me, I thought that there was someone else.” Poppy breathes in relief, Morgan’s hands wrap around her waist, supporting her weight.

“Just you.” Morgan says breathlessly. Watching her break into a smile made all the nerves she had vanish. She pulls her into a tight hug, smiling when she feels Poppy sink into the embrace. Her head leans on her shoulder and she rests her cheek on her hair. Poppy pulls back and smiles before leanig up and kissing Morgan.

#poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair #fanfic #we dont hava capri sun only zesto #one shot #please go easy on me whoever reads

[pagingevilspawn]

Hey my request is about Alex who returns to Seatle and finds out about Jo and Jackson's relationship

i had all and then most of you (some and now none of you)

wc: 1.4k

pairing: Jo Wilson/Alex Karev (past), Meredith Grey & Alex Karev (gen), and mentions of Jo Wilson/Jackson Avery.

summary: during a late night phone call, alex learns that jo is well and truly no longer his.

rating: general audiences.

category: angst.

warnings: angst, no happy ending.

AN: again, this is pretty short, but i wrote it in two hours, so.... it's not quite what you asked for anon, but i tried to keep it relatively canon compliant, since here (as you can tell) Meredith didn't get covid.

_____

The silence in the house seemed alarming to him, not used to the lack of commotion that usually echoed throughout the halls. Izzie was finishing up on a shift and wouldn’t be home for a while, and the twins were tucked into bed, leaving the only sound in the home to be the low, steady humming of a sitcom rerun on the TV.

The appeal drained after a while, and he eventually grew tired of laughter from the audience after nearly every line spoken. Mindless chatter was all it was and all it seemed to be.

Alex sighed, leaning into the couch’s cushions and pulling out his phone, dialing Meredith’s number once he saw that he had missed her call only minutes before. He waits a few seconds, the droning of the beeps making him anxious for a reason he couldn’t place. Eventually, Meredith picks up, her voice slightly out of breath, which he only assumes could come from finishing a long day of work.

“Alex! How are you?”

He gets up from his place on the couch, taking his conversation onto the front porch, settling onto the swing that hung in the corner. “I’m good Mer, I’m good,” he says, directing his gaze to the end of the road, where a car went by, headlights being one of the only forms of light besides the dim street lamps.

“How are the kids?” he asks, feeling a sense of nostalgia at the fact that he hadn’t seen his niece or nephews in months. He missed them, more than he would admit. He had been there for everything, everything graduation, every dance, every school play, he had been there.

But he had his own kids to tend to now, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

(not trade, but make some changes. he lost that opportunity a long time ago though)

“They’re good. Zola is driving Bailey crazy with how much she’s correcting his homework, when all he wants to do is go play on his XBox. Ellis is hating distance learning, complaining that all she wants to do is see her friends, but what else is new. Zola loves it, not surprisingly. She thinks school is even easier than it was before, the only part she misses is talking to her friends, but she calls them and everything, so she doesn't see too much harm. She’s started staying after class to help other kids with her teachers. Amelia and I have been teasing her non-stop about being a kiss-up, but she loves it. If she decides to switch careers I wouldn't doubt that she would be a teacher,” she says, and he can hear the car door slam shut and the rumble of the car's engine coming to life.

He laughs softly, “We both know that that’s not gonna happen. Zo would rather get into a bear fight before giving up on being a surgeon.”

Meredith hums, “That’s true. The thought of being anything else almost is offensive to her,” she laughs. “The other day I made an offhand comment about a lawyer being a fun career for her because of how much she loves to argue, and she went into a five minute lecture on why she was going to be a neurosurgeon.”

Alex smiles, practically able to see the image of Zola telling her mom off for suggesting she be anything other than a surgeon. “That sounds about right. I learned that lesson a long time ago.”

There are a couple of beats of silence, the only thing he can hear is the crickets chirping in the distance and the faint sounds of cars racing around in the background.

“They miss you, you know,” Meredith finally speaks, her tone dropping slightly to let him know how sincere her words were.

He lets out a heavy breath, “I miss them too Mer,” the crickets continue their noise, and images of what his life used to be seem to filter through his mind. An endless loop, dancing in his head of a life he once used to live, but could no longer say he knew.

“Well,” she breaks him away from his thoughts, “When all this is over, you’re due for a visit, okay?”

He nods, even though she can’t see him. “Long overdue,” he agrees. “So, what’s been going on over at Seattle Grace Mercy Death?”

She fills him in on the latest events of the hospital, how everyone was adjusting to their new realities, the newest batch of interns, and patients that had stuck out more than others.

It was a funny thing that he didn’t realize until a while ago, somehow patients at Grey-Sloan had stuck with him more than the ones where he currently was.

“And Jo—” she starts, but cuts herself off, piquing his interest. Jo hadn’t come up in any other of their conversations, for reasons that didn’t really need to be said aloud.

He bites the inside of his cheek, releasing and giving himself the courage to finally ask about her. She never left his mind, so he couldn’t see the harm in asking about her —an opportunity to clear the part of his brain that was on a constant track of her if he was able to know how she was.

“It’s fine Mer, you can talk about her,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

He can hear her sigh, and can practically imagine the head shake she is giving him right then “Not about this, Alex.”

He perks up immediately, “Is she okay? I need you to tell me if she’s not okay Mer,” he demanded, his voice firm, only a trace of worry present if anyone were to listen closely.

(he felt like Elsa, conceal don’t feel)

“What? No,” she scoffs. “Jo’s fine, though I don’t really think you have the right to care about how she is anymore Alex, considering you’re the one that left her,” she scolds him, and he can hear the disappointment in her voice, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

He lets out a heavy breath, trying to fight back the urge to explain himself to her, which would end up in a loud argument of why he shouldn’t have done what he had. He’d had it before, and each time it sent him to bed with all the what if’s playing out in the forefront of his mind.

Except he didn’t live a life of what if’s, he was living a life of right now.

“I know Mer,” he can hear the heaviness in his words, and she must too, since she relents her lecture on him, and he knows that it’ll just come up at another time.

“She’s sleeping with Jackson,” she says it so casually that he almost thinks that she’s joking, but realizes that she’s not when she stays silent.

“...Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He can feel the tenseness of the air, even though they are thousands of miles apart. He clears his throat after a few minutes have passed. “Are they together, or…?” he trails off, unsure of how he’s supposed to feel.

He left her. He left her. He left her. He wants to say that he’s upset that she’s already moved on, but there he was, sleeping in the same bed as his ex-wife and raising their children together, all while they were still married. He couldn’t really have an opinion, because he was the one who ended their relationship in the most cowardly way possible, through a letter sent in the mail, not even giving her the courtesy to tell her the truth to her face.

“No, they’re doing a friends with benefits sort of thing.”

He nods, trying to think of something to say. “Is she happy?” he settles on.

“Not like she once was, but I think she’s getting back there.”

The ache in his heart grows a bit more, because some selfish part of him wants her to only be able to be happy with him, as unfair and cruel as it is. But he smiles bitterly, and the larger part of him is happy for her, happy that she is finally able to have someone make her laugh and smile again.

The sight of headlights coming up the driveway breaks him away from his own mind, and he knows this conversation will have to be finished at another time.

“You did this to yourself Alex,” she says, as if she knows exactly what he’s thinking.

“I know.”

They both hang up, and he greets Izzie with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, wishing that the woman he was curled up on the couch with was someone else.

But it wasn’t, because he made his choice, and now he had to face the reality of a life he chose to live.

#jo wilson #alex karev #jolex #jo karev #jolex fic #jolex fanfic #jolex fanfiction #canon complaint #meredith grey #izzie stevens #grey's anatomy #greys anatomy #grey's abc #grey's anatomy fic #grey's anatomy fanfic #grey's anatomy fanfiction #camilla luddington #justin chambers #jo x alex #alex x jo #angst #hearbreak #no happy ending

[monaownsmyass]

Influence Her

Requested fic by anon. (If you have any fic ideas or requests you'd like me to write, you can leave me an ask!)

Book: Queen B

Pairing: Veronica Lombardi x MC (Bea Hughes)

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG13, strong words and suggestive lines/scenes

Word Count: 5,125 (V stans feasting with this one)

A/N: MC doesn’t really like Veronica’s social media presence but can real-life Veronica change her mind when they meet? (Alternating POVs) Y’all wanted a Poppy x MC enemies-to-lovers? Nahhh Veronica x MC would’ve been much better imo 😏 I also gave her some personality since PB is shit with character development especially with their side characters. 

Tag list: @ineedskyecrandall @kamilahsayeet2063 @avalawrencefl @lovekamilahsayeed @thequeenkamilahsayeed @heygmicheelle @djtjsmith14 @jjlover01 @soft-for-drake @dopeyouth @alexroyard @satrinadia @toalltheboysididntlove @mypegasifly (lmk if anyone would like to be included or removed in my next fics and if you only want to be tagged for certain pairings.)

Part 2 is here!

I couldn't escape it.

It was all Veronica this! Veronica that! Oh, Veronicats! Oh, @vivilomborghini! And I've had it!

She was everywhere and I couldn't escape it. Obviously, she was all over my socials. On Pictagram, The T, but ever since I joined Belvoire, I couldn't even walk across the damn campus without seeing her.

I heard about Veronica long before I started attending Belvoire and I never liked her even since then. Something about her always rubbed me the wrong way.

When I found out she was also a student here on my first day, I was ready to head out. I did have other offers from different universities but Zoey convinced me that it wasn't gonna be so bad, so I took her word for it and stayed.

It was hard enough trying to avoid her on social media, which, trust me, was a sport all on it's own, but now I had to inevitably see her face every single day. I had no idea why, but I felt like she was wherever I went. At the library, at class, at the courtyard, it didn't matter, she was there.

She was like a constant nightmare haunting me. Okay, maybe a gorgeous, very attractive nightmare, but a nightmare nonetheless.

"I don't get why you hate her so much, babe," Zoey said at she followed my irritated glare aimed at Veronica who was vlogging not too far away. "She's not that bad."

"I don't hate Veronica Lombardi, but she hasn't given me any reason to like her either," I clarified.

"Why not?"

I scoffed. "Just look at her! Look how fake she is. She's basically lying to her fans. Her online personality is so artificially bright and happy it makes me wanna barf."

"Bea, that's basically almost every social media influencer ever."

"Maybe, but there's just something about her that doesn't sit right with me. How did she even get that many followers? I don't get what people see in her. Like sure, she's easy on the eyes and all but there's literally nothing else going for her."

Zoey raised a brow. "I'm surprised you admitted she's attractive.."

"I just don't like her, that doesn't mean I'm blind, Zo. I can appreciate a pretty face even if it annoys the shit out of me."

Zoey let out a laugh and gave me a pat on the cheek before standing up from the picnic table we were sitting at. "I'm sure V would be ecstatic to hear you call her pretty."

The space between my brows creased. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, babe, it's so obvious our favourite social media star has a crush on you."

"What makes you say that?" My nose scrunched up in disgust but something in my stomach stirred.

"You know, the looks, the movements," she replied, waving her hand around. "I'd love to explain more, but I'm gonna be late for class." She gathered her things and started walking away.

"Fine, fine," I sighed.

"And babe?"

"Yeah?"

"Dreamgirl is headed your way."

~*~*~

From the moment my eyes set on Bea Hughes, I knew there was something different about her.

Yes, the way she dressed, her accent, how she stood up to Poppy, it definitely made her stand out in Belvoire but there was just something else about her that caught my attention.

Maybe it was the way she carried herself, or her vibe. Maybe it was just how hot she was, I wasn't sure.

There was just a magnetic pull attracting me to her and I may not have known why, but I was determined to get to know her better.

I remembered the first time I caught sight of her. There was a crowd in the courtyard surrounding her and Poppy. She straight up roasted Poppy with no remorse and when she was done, our eyes locked. I could feel the tension between us. Was it sexual? Was it rivalry? Jealousy? Hatred? Maybe it was in potential alliance.

Whatever it was, I felt a connection.

Her smouldering gaze held onto my curious one and we held eye contact for a good minute before I raised a brow. She suddenly seemed to realise where she was and rolled her eyes, looking away.

I didn't know what that eye roll meant but that wasn't gonna stop me from finding out more about this interesting woman.

While I was vlogging, my eyes drifted to the girl that had me thinking about her ever since she stepped onto campus. She was eyeing me in annoyance. I've had people look at me like that but something behind her glare told me that wasn't all. I saw my chance. I smirked, ended the vlog and started walking up to her.

I didn't know what her problem with me was but I was gonna find out.

She was intriguing. 

And I, Veronica Lombardi, was always up for a challenge.

~*~*~

I whipped my head around to see Veronica headed my way. I didn't like her but the way she strutted towards me made me breathless. The power in her strides almost made me realise why she was as popular as she was. Almost.

Still, I groaned and reached an arm out to Zoey.

"Zo! Don't leave me!"

"Sorry babe," she laughed. "You're on your own. Tell me how it goes, though!"

My arm flopped onto the table and my head followed.

"Hey," I heard a smooth, low voice call out not long after.

I knew who it was from but it still shocked me. It was such a vast difference from the bubbly, higher-pitched tone I had associated with her.

I raised my head to look at her.

"Yes?"

"This seat taken?"

"Does it matter?" I sighed. "Looks like you're gonna sit anyway."

She chuckled and crossed her arms. "That wasn't a yes so I can only assume you want me too."

I was about to deny it but something stopped me. I couldn't get the words out in time and she sat across me.

Well, this would be interesting.

"What do you want, Veronica?"

"No need to be so hostile," she raised her hands up. "I just came by 'cuz I saw you ogling at me."

My jaw dropped. "I was not ogling at you!" I said defensively.

She laughed again at my apprehension. "Sure you weren't."

"I wasn't!"

"Anyway," she said, ignoring my protest. God, she was infuriating. "I thought it was about time we finally meet and get to know each other."

I just looked at her as she stretched a hand out.

"Hi, I'm Veronica Lombardi," she said with a dazzling smile.

I had no intention of shaking her hand but I didn't wanna be mean especially since she was being nice. Also, there was something so compelling about that smile...

I lightly held her hand but the slight contact sent a jolt up my arm.

What was happening?

Brushing it off, I gave it a single shake. "Bea."

"Nice to officially meet you, Bea."

The way she spoke my name was unlike the way others said it. It sounded like a praise on her lips.

"As much as I'd love to hang around and make you fall in love with me," she stated and I was about to say something to contradict it but decided against it. Not like it would've helped. "I gotta go. Perhaps we could continue this conversation later? Elsewhere?"

I glared at her in disbelief. "Are you seriously asking me out on a date right now?"

"Oh, it's a date, huh?" she said playfully.

"What? I- you- NO!" I flustered.

"Alright then, it's a date," she laughed and I could feel myself getting red in the face. Was it from being infuriated or from blushing? I couldn't tell.

"Why would I go out with you?"

"Look, I know you don't like me that much, but why not give me a chance, hm?" The right corner of her lips quirked up ever so slightly as she gave me a lazy grin, so unlike the awfully overexaggerated fake cheery smile I was accustomed to seeing. It was relaxed and laidback and I'd be lying if I said I didn't find it absolutely sexy.

"How do I know it's not just for a vlog or some prank video."

"I swear it's not," she quickly assured. "If you don't believe me, I'll let you keep my phone for the entire time. I promise. I just want to get to know you."

She gazed into my eyes and I could tell she was telling the truth.

"Alright..."

"It that a yes?"

"It's not a yes..." I paused before adding. "But it not a no either."

I saw her eyes light up and I thought it was pretty cute. I mean, it was good to know she wasn't devoid of human emotion.

"I'll tell you what," she said and reached into her bag for a pen and paper and starting writing. "You let me know once you make up your mind."

She slid the paper over to me and on it was her number. She signed off as 'V, xoxo'.

Before standing up, she took my hand that was resting on the table between us in hers and paused for a moment, looking me in the eyes and making sure I wouldn't flinch away.

Once she was certain I wouldn't pull back, she brought my hand up to her lips and placed a gentle kiss on it. The way her soft lips grazed my hand made my heart flutter.

She let it go and walked away, looking over her shoulder to wink at me.

"Until then, beautiful."

I felt my whole face burn as I watched her walk away.

And this time, it was definitely from blushing.

~*~*~

"I'm telling you, Zo! How many times do I have to repeat myself? It's not a date!"

"Didn't you say she said it was a date?"

"Well, technically I made the mistake of assuming it was a date then she got the wrong idea and called it a date."

"So you wanted it to be a date?"

I was ready to pull my hair out in frustration. "No!"

Zoey giggled at me. "You are going though, right?"

"Why should I? I have no reason too."

"The Veronica Lombardi asked you out on a date and you're gonna say no to that?" She looked at me like I was stupid.

"It's not a date!"

"Just go for it. What do you have to lose?"

"My time, patience and sanity."

She glanced at me skeptically. "I don't think you actually believe that. I think you just don't want to admit you wanna spend time with Veronica."

That made me quiet. Was the idea of going out with Veronica actually repulsive or did I just not want to acknowledge it?

"Fine, I'll go for the stupid thing."

Zoey first pumped and cheered. "I can't wait to see you in her next vlog!"

"Oh, she said she wasn't gonna vlog."

She blinked at me. "What?"

"She said she would let me keep her phone for the rest of our time together as proof when I asked her if it she was only asking me out for a video."

"Bea, do you not realise what this means?"

I just looked at Zoey, puzzled.

"Veronica, Queen of Social Media, who vlogs and livestreams everything, said she would give you her phone. That's where all her power is! She's basically giving it up to you! I've heard if anyone so much as touches her phone, there'll be hell to pay."

Involuntarily, I felt myself start to smile. "Really?"

"God, you look like a kid in a candy store. You sooooo like her."

I shoved her and tried but failed miserably to hide my ecstatic expression. "Shut up! I do not!"

Zoey collapsed into a fit of giggles. "Deny it all you want, but you said you'd go out with her and I don't see you texting her yet."

I rolled my eyes at my best friend but moved to grab my phone to shoot Veronica a quick text to tell her my answer was yes.

~*~*~

When I received her confirmation yesterday, I felt the excitement bubbling in me. From the how she was blushing and the way she looked at me when I left, I was almost certain she would agree but getting a straight answer from her was the best news I've had all week.

I looked at the mirror at the outfit I was wearing. Hmm, should I change or would this suffice? No, I didn't want it to just suffice, I wanted it to impress.

I went through my closet, flinging clothes everywhere, trying to find something that would definitely catch her eye when I heard someone shout, "V!!!"

I rolled my eyes as Poppy barged in with Chloe by her side.

"What the hell are you doing and why is your room messier than a pig sty?! You were suppose to meet me an hour ago!"

I simply shrugged at her. "I'm busy."

"Busy with what? Putting on a fashion show for the fly on your wall?! Get ready, we're going out."

"Like I said, Pops," I took a stride in her direction and booped her nose, no doubt making her madder than she already was. "I'm busy."

"With what?" Chloe asked curiously since Poppy looked like she was gonna pop her lid off.

"I have a date with Hughes," I hummed.

"YOU'RE DITCHING ME FOR THAT NEWBIE, FARMSVILLE?!" Poppy screamed angrily.

I ignored Poppy and turned to Chloe. "Help me pick out something?"

"I'd love to!" she squealed which made Poppy stomp her feet in frustration.

"Ugh! Fine! Don't come crawling back to me when your social ranking takes a plunge after being seen with Farmsville!"

"You're delusional, Pops, maybe you should rest," I laughed as she stormed off, leaving Chloe to help me find the perfect outfit.

I couldn't wait to see Bea again.

~*~*~

There was a knock on the front door and Zoey jumped in excitement.

"You're looking forward to it more than I am."

"Can't I just be happy for my best friend-slash-roommate?" She pushes me towards the door. "Now go get your girl!"

"She is not my girl!" But my mind started racing at the possibility.

I shook the thought away and opened the door to be greeted with the sight of Veronica holding a single rose. I hate to admit it, but my breath hitched as I took her in.

My eyes ran up and down her body, soaking in every single feature my eyes landed on. Her sleeveless shirt was loose against her toned body but showed off her biceps nicely compared to her usual long-sleeved sweater.

My gaze landed on her chest and travelled down to her hips which only lead to her long, muscular legs covered by her pants. I forced my eyes back up to her attractive face only to see a stupid cocky smirk playing on her lips.

It was infuriating but fuck, she was hot.

I didn't even notice I was biting my lip until I heard her speak.

"Don't bite too hard, it might start bleeding before I get to kiss you," she said flirtatiously with that calm voice of hers but I could see her own eyes roaming my body.

I rolled my eyes but I wasn't as annoyed as I lead on. "Someone's confident."

"Very," she replied with a full smile this time and held out the rose in her hand. "For you."

"This isn't a date."

"It is!" Zoey called out from behind me.

"Zo!"

"It's true," she laughed. "Have fun on your date! V, you better treat her good!"

"The best," Veronica laughed with Zoey. "Don't worry!" She turned her attention back to me. "So, are you gonna accept my rose?"

The way she phrased it and said it made me melt. How could I say no?

Sighing in defeat, I took it from her and tucked it into my purse, the flower sticking out, on display for the world to know and strangely, I didn't mind.

We made our way away from the dorm and across the courtyard to her car. I saw people looking and whispering, wondering what the hell the newbie was doing with Belvoire's social media queen, the third ranked in The T.

I snickered and felt a little smug. It was great knowing someone with so much power was by my side. I felt kinda protected and safe 'cuz I knew no one would dare toss any snide remarks my way when I was with her.

I also thought it was really sweet that she didn't care that she was being seen with me. Not like I think anyone would dare say anything about her but I was still touched.

She opened the passenger side door for me and I raised her a brow at her. "I can open my own door, you know," I teased.

"O.M.G., I totally didn't know that," she replied sarcastically in a deadpan tone. "Lemme just do something nice for you."

"I guess I wouldn't mind being treated like a princess for the day," I muttered jokingly.

"Darling, I'll treat you like a queen," she replied coolly and suddenly, my whole body was on fire.

That immediately shut me up which made her chuckle.

We got into her car and she began driving. After a while, I spoke up.

"Where are we going?"

"You're warming up to me, huh?" She glance at me from the corner of her eyes and gave me another exasperating smirk.

"What?"

"You're starting a conversation with me. You like me now, don't you?" She reached out to poke me in the arm and I swatted her hand away even though I was trying my hardest to stifle a smile that was threatening to spread across my lips.

"God, you're annoying."

"Hey, I'm just stating facts."

Eventually, we pulled up to a small quaint café that didn't look like what I thought Veronica's speed was at all.

She opened the door for me again and this time, I didn't bother with a witty remark since I knew she would turn it on me anyway.

As we walked in, she greeted the barista behind the counter as if they've known each other for some time and it occurred to me then that I was getting to see the real Veronica. The thought that she actually was willing to share this private part of her life with me made me soft.

After ordering, she guided me to a table and pulled out a chair for me, motioning for me to sit. I looked around to take in the surrounding. There was barely anyone else in the café, only two other customers who were in their own worlds, reading. The place was small and cozy and... quiet. It wasn't like the high-energy, over-the-top, loud parties and events setting I was used to seeing her in. It was much more peaceful. Even the contemporary R&B and soul music they were playing that Veronica was humming to was much different than the pop songs she played in her vlogs that I've seen.

"Is this your little hideout?"

She offered me a small grin before staring at a picture on the wall. "Somewhat. No one expects to find me here so it's where I come if I just want some time to myself. No Poppy, no Belvoire, none of the Veronicats, just me." She leaned forward as her enrapturing eyes landed on mine and the sheer intensity of her gaze sucked all the air out of my lungs. "And now you."

I looked away, not being able to hold eye contact anymore and all of a sudden feeling very overwhelmed.

"It doesn't seem like you. I mean, I knew your online personality wasn't all real but this is..."

"Different?" she gave me a rueful smile. "I'm not my brand, Bea."

"Who are you, then?"

Her sad smile quickly changed into a simper. "That's why we're here, aren't we?"

"Fair enough." I leaned back in my chair. "Why don't you show your followers the real you? I'm sure they'll appreciate it." 'I do,' I thought subconsciously.

She let out a humourless laugh. "It's not that easy. Changing my entire image is already a hassle, but then I'd have to deal with that rumours and the haters and all that bullshit which is annoying. Then, I have to worry about my followers who'll either bash me or get bashed for still supporting me," she sighed, looking more tired than I've ever seen her. "It's just a lot."

Before I could reply, she pulled out her phone and slid it over to me across the table. "Like I promised, I'll let you keep it."

"V," I started and realised I called her by her nickname for the first time. I knew she noticed it to when I saw her brows lift up slightly. "You really don't have to."

She shook her head. "No, no, I want to. I want you to know I'm serious about this. I want you to know I'm being honest. Also, it's relaxing to know I don't have to worry about my online appearance since it's with you," she joked.

"Aren't you scared I'll log into your accounts? Maybe try and steal you phone?"

She looked at me with an amused smile. "I'm right here, I can see whatever you're doing. And what, you gonna run off with my phone in an unfamiliar area when I have a car?"

"Maybe I'll steal your car too."

She let out a full laugh that made my heart flip.

Woah?

"Darling, you can try," she spoke and leaned in closer, almost whispering the next part with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "But I think we both know who'll end up on top."

I caught the undertone in her statement and I felt my cheeks getting hot.

"You'd be surprised," I returned her energy and I saw her pupils dilate, the tension between us palpable.

We were interrupted by the barista from earlier. They served us our drinks and left, making me clear my throat and trying to shake out the image of Veronica and I in a.... compromising position.

I looked at her phone that was still in front of me and hesitantly slipped it into my purse.

"I have a question," I said.

"Mm?"

"Aren't you tired of pretending? To your followers?"

She crossed her arms on the table and my eyes immediately drifted down to see her arms flex as she did but I forced them back up to her face. 'Not the time!' I scolded myself in my head.

Her tiny grin told me she noticed. Damn, nothing slipped past this woman.

However, she looked over it and answered me. "It wasn't always pretend. That person was actually me once. That's what happens when you grow up in the public eye, I guess." She propped her chin on her hand. "I started doing all of this when I was young and it was only for fun. A kid just being a kid, you know? But then my content blew up and as I grew older, it was only natural for me to change, to discover who I really was. But the thing with people online is that they don't get that. They think we're a fraud or we went off the rails if we suddenly change things up."

I looked her in the eyes as she told me more about it.

"And before I knew it, I had an image to uphold. A brand to stick to. I was no longer that bubbly, excited kid from a decade ago but my audience didn't know that. I don't feel like I'm fake 'cuz that was who I am. But not anymore. And it might be tiring but it's worth it. I may be playing a character online but if that person inspires young girls and boys and is their role model, how could I take that away from them?"

Listening to her speak made me regret every awful thing I've said about her. A wave of sadness washed over me and as much as I wished I could reassure her and tell her it's not true, that everyone would support her, I knew that wasn't reality. 

So instead, I said, "Would you ever show who you really are?"

Her perfectly threaded brows creased as she pondered over my question. "Not anytime soon. But if it gets too much, maybe then I'll consider doing it. But until then," she looked down and then back up at me with an honest smile. "I'm happy just sharing the actual me with the people in my real life."

~*~*~

Opening up to Bea was the easiest thing in the world. Those warm eyes, that curios look, the way she hung onto every word I said, giving me her full attention, it was inevitable that I would spill my heart out to her.

And it looked like I had the same effect on her.

She told me more about her life back in the Midwest, her family, her thoughts, dreams and so much more that I didn't expect to get out of her on our first 'date'.

As she spoke, I studied her face and mannerisms, wanting to know every single detail about her. Her expressive eyebrows, her stunning eyes, her smooth skin and soft lips. The way she pronounced certain words and how her accent got stronger when she was angry or talking something she was passionate about. The way she would roll her eyes but her cheeks reddened when I teased her or said something flirty. How her nose scrunched when she giggled, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled.

Fuck, that smile. I'd do anything she told me to if she smiled at me like that.

"Hey, I know I said I wouldn't use my phone today," I began and I saw her give me a worried look. I quickly continued so she didn't get the wrong idea. "But I really want to take a picture with you. Is that okay? I won't post it, I just wanna keep it."

I saw her disappointed look instantly turn to relief then shyness.

"You wanna take a photo with me?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "You look really pretty and I just want something to remember you by."

I wasn't sure if she would agree but then she reached into her purse and handed me my phone. Grinning broadly, I moved beside her and lifted my phone up.

"Is this okay?" I asked, moving an arm around her waist carefully, making sure she wasn't uncomfortable.

She simply nodded and when my hand touched her, I felt her shiver which only made made me smile wider.

The cups and plates piled on our table, customers walked in and out, the sky darkened, a hundred songs were played and the second hand on the wall clock travelled the same path thousands of times as we continued talking and yet, our conversation never died.

I had never connected with someone so fast and it surprised me just how easy it was for us to just talk.

It was getting pretty late and we decided it was time to leave. Before standing up, I jokingly asked, "Anything else before we leave?"

To my surprise, she replied, "Just one."

"Yeah?"

She smiled. "You're alright, Lombardi."

~*~*~

When we made it back to campus, V walked me back to my dorm. When I said she didn't have to, she still insisted which was really sweet of her.

"Plus I get to spend more time with you," she said teasingly while lightly bumping shoulders as we walked side-by-side and I felt myself smile.

We stopped outside my dorm room and admittedly, I had no idea how I was gonna say goodbye to her.

"Here we are," she announced.

"Yup."

She took a step towards me cautiously as if I would move back. I didn't.

I stared at her as my stomach filled with butterflies. Everything about her was painfully gorgeous and it made my heart ache. I knew she was attractive but now that I got to know her, to actually see her, it made it hard to believe she was a real person.

She was perfect.

One hand on my hip, she leaned forward and bent down, face inching closer to mine. I closed my eyes, here nearness making me light-headed and the smell of her perfume fogged my thoughts. My heart was hammering in my chest.

I expected her lips to meet mine. Instead, I felt it on my cheek but my skin still tingled from where her lips touched.

"Good night, beautiful," she whispered with a small smile and a longing look in her hazel eyes. "Hopefully you don't glare at me the next time you see me."

She stepped back but I instinctively reached out to hold onto her wrist, preventing her from moving any further. I shook my head. "No."

"No?" she looked at me, confused and I could sense the hurt in her voice.

"No," I repeated. "No, that's not enough."

I pulled her into me and crashed our lips together. The moment our lips touched, I swear I saw stars. She pushed me back until I was pressed up against the door with her body. She trailed a hand down my thigh and hiked my leg up to her hip, making me groan.

I sent a mental apology to Zoey if she was in and heard all this.

"God, I don't know what you hold over me," I muttered between kisses. "Yesterday I didn't like you and now you have me against my dorm door, making out with me."

She pulled back, breathing heavy and gave me one of those sexy, relaxed smile. "Well, I am an influencer."

Veronica grabbed onto my other leg and lifted me up. Arms wrapped around her neck and legs locked tight around her waist, she kissed me again.

"Ohh! V!"

I moaned as she bit my bottom lip. My whole body was burning with heat and everywhere she touched ignited me further. One hand moved to grip the side of my neck while the other rested on my ass.

"Are you in love with me yet?" She said into the kiss and pulled away again, looking at me proudly with a genuine smile on her face.

"Shut up," I grinned and tugged her head back so our lips could meet again. This time, in a slow, sweet kiss.

And you know what?

Veronica Lombardi wasn't so bad after all.

(More fics!)

#did writing this make me fall even more in love with veronica? #absolutely a 100% #veronica x mc #veronica lombardi #veronica qb #qb #queen b #qb choices #choices #choices: stories you play #pb #pixelberry #playchoices #qb fanfiction #choices fanfiction #thanks for reading!

[misc-headcanons]

Hello dear! I see you opened askbox so here I am :3 May I ask for a scenario (or headcanons) with Zoro and big breasted chubby fem s/o trying something sinful for the first time, but boob gravity gets a bit in a way and it not only it embarasses her, but also her issues with body image start to show up? Thank you! :3

Zoro/Chubby!F!Reader: Show Me

(Started writing this, got sucked into it, might be making a part 2 because I got too hyped :3 NS.FW BELOW!)

Zoro didn't have any problems with showing skin, but there was something about seeing his s/o clad in just a tank top and shorts that had left him speechless as he stared at her on the deck of the Sunny. He'd always found ____ pretty, but seeing her exposed shoulders and soft-looking hips and thighs was just...hot. While the next few days had gone by without incident, he couldn't get the image of her in that outfit out of his head, and he finally decided to do something about it. The two of them had been taking the physical aspect of their relationship slowly, only going as far as they were both comfortable with; at the moment, that meant nothing further than some under-their-clothes fondling while making out. But after seeing her like that, Zoro was itching to try and take things further.

Were he a man of romance like say, Sanji, he'd have gone about this path of seduction in a subtle way. But this is Zoro we're talking about, so it isn't too surprising that he simply walked up to ____ when they were alone and bluntly asked if she wanted to meet up at their "usual place" in the crow's nest later tonight. He added quietly (with a slight redness to his face) that he was wondering if she wanted to take things further with him, holding her from behind as he rested his chin against her shoulder and let his eyes wander downward to the curve of her breasts.

____ froze up for a split second before turning her head to look at him. "Are...You mean you want to…have sex?"

"Only if you want to," Zoro replied simply, resting his hands on her sides. "I don't wanna rush things if you aren't OK with it. I was just thinking about how...um. A few days ago, when you were wearing those shorts while we sailed past that summer island. And you looked really...good."

____ glanced down at herself. She looked good in shorts? She'd only worn them because she didn't have anything else to wear, and the heat outside wasn't worth trying to cover up her rolls and flabby thighs with something that'd leave her sweating like a pig anyway. But Zoro actually liked seeing her like that? Not only that, but he liked it so much that he wanted to sleep with her for the first time...If she didn't know what kind of man he was already, she'd have thought he was playing a cruel prank on her. 

She felt him rub up against her from behind, and bit her lip when she felt a slight bulge gently prodding at her backside. Truth be told, she'd also wanted Zoro for a while now--hell, how could she not when she was with a man that looked like him? The only thing stopping her was...well, her. Any time her thoughts would wander and she'd fantasize about being with him, she'd feel a creeping wave of anxiety and disgust wash over her. He'd never seen her in her underwear before, much less naked. He'd never seen her rolls, stretch marks, little dimples of cellulite along her lower stomach, thighs, and ass. Any feelings of arousal and excitement would turn into shame and revulsion towards her body; he may say that he wanted her now, but that's only because he hadn't seen what she really looked like underneath her clothing, careful posture, and slightly sucked-in stomach whenever they were together.

____ looked back at him again, and her negative thoughts fell to the back of her mind as she saw Zoro's face. For someone who could be so terrifying with his swords, he just looked so warm and loving and sweet. And the longer she stared, the more she wanted to find out if all of him tasted as good as he looked. She nodded and turned around to return his embrace, and the bulge in his pants was even more noticeable against her upper thighs. "Yeah," she replied softly with a smile. "I...I want to be with you too."

The two of them continued their day on the ship with a strange sort of excitement and anxiety in the air; when the two of them had dinner with the rest of the crew, every time their fingers brushed against one another they'd immediately move away with a flustered look on their faces. After eating, the two of them made their way to the crow's nest and spent their first few minutes alone together with a bit of their usual kissing and caresses.

Zoro pulled away from ____'s lips and looked down at her chest as she panted lightly. "And...You're still okay with this?" Zoro cupped her cheek and brushed her lower lip with his thumb. "With us doing more than before?"

____ responded by sticking out her tongue to flick the tip against his calloused finger and smiled. "M-hmm," she replied softly. Zoro leaned in to kiss her again, and she linked her around his neck. He moved his lips lower to nip at her soft skin, and then grabbed the hem of her shirt to help her pull it off. The moment he started to lift up her shirt, ____ felt a rush of panic. Shit. Shit. He was finally going to see her bare stomach. This was a bad idea, this was a bad idea, he's going to be so disgusted--

Her downward spiral was cut short when she felt Zoro's lips against an ever-so-sensitive spot of skin near her collarbone, and her hands flew to his so she could help tear off her shirt. It was so warm and humid all of a sudden, and if losing her shirt meant Zoro could easily reach that spot again, then she was happy to get rid of the damn thing. When he pulled away again, ____ let out a small whine. She saw him pull down his pants and kick them aside--leaving him in a pair of boxers and nothing else--and she quickly followed suit; they had barely moved things forward and she was already so hot underneath her clothes. Zoro could feel his cock straining against his underwear the moment he saw ____ in only her bra and panties, and he pounced on her to feel every inch of her newly-exposed skin while kissing and biting at the sensitive spot near her neck. ____ felt his calloused fingers creep up behind her back and curl around her bra, trying (and failing) to unclasp it. She quickly undid the ends for him, and it was only when the cloth fell to the floor and she felt the cold night air against her nipples that she realized what she'd just done.

While her eyes were closed as Zoro continued to kiss her, she imagined the look on his face when he saw just how droopy and saggy her breasts were without a bra to support them and fool him into thinking she had a nice chest. The more she felt his skin rub up against hers, and the more she felt her stomach and breasts jiggle with his movements, the more ugly and disgusted she felt. Why was he doing this with her? Why did he want to do this with her? Why did he want her, when she looked like this?

When Zoro pulled away again to get a proper look at her bare breasts, he immediately heard her sniffle and saw that she was on the verge of tears. A wave of guilt immediately washed over him; he pushed her too far when she wasn't ready, and now he'd made her cry. Shit. Shit. He reached down to take her hand. "Oi, oi," he said quickly, squeezing her hand to try and comfort her. "It's okay, we can stop if you want." He leaned down to try and hug her, but was surprised when she simply shook her head and tears spilled down her cheeks.

"No, it's not that," she said shakily, sniffling. "Just…" Every breath she took made her stomach jiggle a bit, and she curled into a fetal position and hid her face as she began to cry. "I'm so disgusting and ugly and...and…"

Zoro stared at her, completely shocked. "What the hell are you talking about?" He tried to rest a hand on her shoulder, but she flinched. "Who told you that?" He wasn't as chivalrous as that Ero Cook crewmate of his, but he was not going to let someone insult his woman like that and get away with it. 

"Nobody had to," ____ muttered weakly, turning to look up at Zoro with an uncomfortably hot face stained with tears. "Zoro, why do you even want to be with me? I've got all this...all these stretch marks, and rolls, and fat," she said bitterly, grabbing a handful of her stomach fat and pinching it harshly. 

Zoro watched her with an even greater look of confusion on his face. "Okay," he replied slowly, "...and? Why's that bad?" 

____ looked at him incredulously. "Because,' she insisted, "I'm fat."

"So? You're still pretty," Zoro replied simply, slightly irritated by her line of thinking. "Who gives a damn if you're bigger or you have some marks on your skin? I've got scars all over, but you're not calling me ugly or disgusting or any of that crap."

____ sighed. "That's different," she sighed. "You have scars but you're still--"

"Attractive," Zoro finished. "Because it doesn't matter, right?" He moved one hand and rested his palm on one of her hips, letting out a small sigh through his nose as she stared up at him in stunned silence. "You know what one of my favorite things about you is?"

____ shook her head slightly, and Zoro ran the calloused pads of his fingers over her smooth velvety skin. "You're soft," he replied quietly. "I've got calluses and scars and all that. But when I touch you, all I can feel is how warm and gentle and soft you are." He moved his hand to her stomach and then dragged his fingers down to her right thigh. "It's why I like taking naps with my head on your stomach. It just feels good, falling asleep with you and feeling how warm and soft you are." His hands wandered to her lower thighs and he gently squeezed them, making ____ gasp quietly. "And when I saw you in those shorts," he murmured, lowering his head until he was inches away from her plush skin. "All I wanted was to grab you like this, to see if all of you was that soft and warm." 

He trailed a series of kisses around her inner thigh while reaching up with one hand to fondle her breast. The two of them moaned at the same time, and Zoro started to gently rock his hips as he made his way to her clothed--and noticeably damp--underwear. "And I wanna…" He hesitated a bit, his cheeks flushed as he tried to actually talk dirty to her for the first time. "I wanna feel what it's like to have these soft thighs around my head while I make you cum." He felt her clench her thighs around him a bit and let out a small shaky groan as a bit of precum left a wet spot on his boxers. "Fuck, I've wanted to do this with you for so long…"

____ looked down at him and felt a rush of warmth pool between her legs when she saw his expression. His eyes were clouded with lust as he stared at her lower body, and he bit his lower lip for a moment before he nuzzled her clothed entrance with his nose and slightly parted lips. God, he really did want her, didn't he? She smiled and wiped a stray tear from her face before reaching down to run her fingers through his hair. "Show me, Zoro," she murmured. "Show me just how much you've wanted me, baby…"

#one piece #one piece scenario #one piece scenarios #zoro #roronoa zoro #female s/o #plus size s/o #ns.fw #mine #basilisa-scorpii

[dreams-of-the-arcana]

Took a bit but here it is! @positive-meme-experience

Pairing: Zotikos “Tikos” Orion Katsaros-Yakinthos X Jasmine Faucher ( @xvi-the-tower’s OC)

⚠️ Warnings: Violence, Description of injuries, Blood, mild Possessive Behavior, Fire, Stitches (This is kind of dark so please read with that in mind) ⚠️

Mine Now

The crew of the Charybdis’ Decent were not strangers to conflict. If anything it seemed as though they drew it straight to themselves. Or maybe it was as the First Mate often suggested and the hideous figurehead brought it instead of protecting them. Tikos refused to remove it though, insisting his Siren was much better than some generic deity who would expect things.

So as the ship gripped tightly to another and the crew swarmed on board with weapons at the ready, it could even be considered a normal day. Chaos erupted on the deck of their opponent. Flashes of steel and loud yells of challenge flew from everywhere. In the midst of it was their Captain. Tikos brandished a sabre along with a hungry grin, his eye taking in everything. Alongside him was his faithful companion, Jasmine Faucher. The pair traded jokes as they sparred and boasted as to who would take down more enemies. Nothing got an opponent quite as angry as being disrespected during a battle and it happened to be a specialty of theirs.

“Oh look here, Darlin’. I believe this big sword is compensating for something,” Tikos laughed loudly and pulled the sword straight out of their hand.

“Must be, Cap! Compensating for lack of skill!” She returned and launched her chain and sickle at anyone who tried to approach Tikos’ back.

“Think you’re scary? Think again.”

“What should we have for dinner? I’m getting bored here!”

“Stay down and watch me count out your coin or get up and see what happens. Your choice.”

Back and forth they went happily, seemingly having the time of their life.

Then suddenly Jas spotted a large figure with a hidden dagger out of the corner of her eye.

“Watch out!”

She yelled and launched herself at Tikos who went stumbling away just in time. Jas unfortunately just put herself exactly in line with the dagger. It bit into her shoulder and dragged for a fraction of a second before being pulled back out. When Tikos regained his bearings he quickly jumped at the attacker with his bare hands. They went tumbling to the floor where Tikos pulled them into a tight headlock. Now he was quiet as he strained his muscles to block their airway until they lost consciousness. He dropped them unceremoniously and stood up to look towards Jas. She waved the hand on her uninjured shoulder and silently reassured him. Though she expected he’d want to make sure personally.

But Tikos had missed seeing the knife strike her entirely. So he gave a relieved sigh and put his boot on the knocked out persons back.

“How nice of you to join us, Captain Houghton. Haven’t seen you since... well since you slithered away from our deal like a coward!”

Jas usually loved watching this part. Something about seeing her lover standing proud and victorious sent excitement straight through her. But as she felt her wound start to pulse with her adrenaline waning, she wanted to get to the Doctor. So, stealthily she snuck away back to the Charybdis’ Decent to find them.

Tikos didn’t notice at first, he’d gotten used to Jas being around and watching. Usually it led to the two of them being unable to keep their hands to themselves as soon as things were settled. But as he tossed Houghton into the cell and looked around he couldn’t find her anywhere.

“Heh,” Houghton chuckled as he pulled himself up to sit against the bars.

“Got somethin’ to say?”

“It took me a bit but I figured it out.”

Tikos wouldn’t humor him by prompting any more and instead waited.

“That girl,” Houghton finally said. “Honestly Zo, I didn’t expect to find you shacking up with August’s sloppy seconds.”

But Houghton had made a grave mistake, he hadn’t waited for Tikos to close the locked door before saying anything. Tikos soon showed him the error in this.

A sickening crunch filled the brig and caused Houghton’s imprisoned crew to recoil in fear. Then a scream followed, one of intense pain. Houghton curled into himself defensively while Tikos hovered overhead with his fist still raised and bloody.

“Y-you broke my... my fucking nose!”

“Shut up,” Tikos’ voice was calm and cold. “Say another word or even think about her and I’ll put you on the bottom of this ship myself. That’s my woman. Get it? Mine. Now pick yourself up, you look like a disgrace.”

He stood still as a statue until Houghton stood back up. As soon as he was back on his feet Tikos slammed his knee into his stomach which sent him right back down with another groan of pain.

“This time, stay down.”

With that Tikos swept out of the brig. Frustration still biting at his heels. It’d been some time since he’d heard that name mentioned and the anger never subsided. For the time being, he wanted to find Jas and hopefully work out the pent up tension.

The longer he searched though the more it built. Where could she even be? It wasn’t like her at all. By this time after a fight they’d be locked together where ever they decided was fit and enjoying the afterglow. Something wasn’t right and it just doubled his frustration. She was definitely going to get all of it when he got his hands on her.

Soon he was completely pissed and throwing open doors with much more force than necessary. The usual rush of endorphins after a battle had soured. Until finally he found the right door.

As soon as the Doctor’s door flew open, Jas jumped in her seat and hissed in pain. They’d been mid-stitch and the Doc gave her a stern warning not to move again: ‘No matter who comes in throwing a tantrum.’

Tikos strode inside angrily until he spotted Jas laid out on the little cot. His eye snapped to the needle repairing her shoulder. The room fell silent, dangerously silent. Jasmine squirmed under her Captain’s hard gaze (and maybe because a heat had begun to pool in her belly) while he stood motionless and watched. She knew that look, oh Arcana did she know that look well. The Doctor continued his work, blatantly ignoring the anger from one occupant and the building sexual tension of another.

‘Kids,’ he thought to himself.

“... who did this.”

It wasn’t a question, Jasmine knew that, it was an order. One that sent a shudder down her spine.

“It’s really not that ba-“

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Jasmine shut her mouth immediately. The look on his face was cold and calculating. He was replaying the battle trying to find any instance where she was out of his sight. It dawned upon him and he ground his teeth together.

“Houghton.”

“Yes, but I put myself between you two willingly-“

“Stop talking. I’m going to fucking make him suffer...”

With that command he turned and left the bay. Jas turned an apologetic but questioning look to the Doctor who only rolled his eyes.

“You can chase after him when I’m done and not a moment sooner.”

She huffed and sank back down on the bed with a pout. It was only a little cut. But she knew whatever Tikos was planning would be much worse than anyone could anticipate. Oh how she wanted to be there to watch it unfold.

Only a few long hours later, Tikos stepped back into the med bay. The same hard look on his face as he gave her the briefest gesture to follow him. Jasmine hurried to obey and rushed to his side. He led the way back out and onto Charybdis’ Decent’s deck. The entire crew of the captured ship stood in a line along the port side of the ship all shackled together and waiting. In front of them was Houghton, dried blood down the front of his face and shirt. The Charybdis’ Decent crew seemed to vibrate with energy. They knew what was coming and they couldn’t wait to watch it.

Tikos took his place in front of Houghton.

“You’ve been defeated, Jakob Houghton. As such I now revoke your title as Captain. I claim your ship, The Hades Damned as mine.”

The crew snickered, it was the highest dishonor to a Captain to not only lose their ship but be publicly humiliated like this. They couldn’t wait to get to shore and spread the tale.

Jasmine’s eyes were fixed on Tikos though, she knew there was more to this.

“Now Houghton,” he stepped forward and lifted the other man up by his lapels. “Watch.”

Tikos dropped him facing the port side where The Hades Damned sat. Confusion clear on the parts of his face not too swollen to emote.

“Zo, what are y-,” Houghton started.

“RELEASE!” Tikos cried out.

The other ship began to float away slowly while everyone aboard watched. Confusion ran rampant, why would Tikos set loose a ship? A ship he could sell or claim for his own fleet. It didn’t make sense.

... But it soon did.

Tikos raised a hand towards the ship as it moved away faster. Almost storm force winds pushing it away. Suddenly a loud explosion shook through the air and set The Hades Damned ablaze.

Jasmine gasped aloud, that had been a fine ship and now it would burn into nothing in minutes. All because the Captain had hurt her. The burning of The Hades Damned was nothing compared to the desire coursing through her at that realization. Tikos had set all this up to make the person who hurt her suffer. She looked over at the slack jawed pirate watching his ship burn. A grin tugged at her lips. But Tikos wasn’t done yet.

“Now, two miles in the opposite direction of your useless hull is an island. I suggest you swim fast, Houghton.”

Before anyone could process, Tikos reared back and kicked him firmly off the ship into the water. Many of the crew ran to the edge to watch as Houghton desperately swam for his life. Laughs and jeers rained down on him.

Tikos didn’t stop to watch and instead turned to the crew in shackles with a cold eye.

“Any of you having any strong feelings about what just happened?”

They smartly said nothing.

“Good, take them back to the brig.”

Finally, he turned to look at Jasmine. The intensity in his eye stunned her for a moment and she couldn’t move a single inch.

“You and I have unfinished business.”

“But... but what if Houghton gets away? What if he comes back with a grudge? He definitely hates you now so-“

“That won’t happen.”

“How can you be so sure? What if-“

His hand reached out and covered her mouth. Slowly he leaned in close until she could feel his breath on her ear where he whispered.

“There’s no island.”

A hard shudder ran through her again and she knew she was in for a sleepless night. She couldn’t wait to start.

#fan apprentice #arcana apprentice #arcana oc #other people’s oc #arcana fanfic #tikos the pirate #Jasmine Faucher #Tikos x Jasmine #Blood cw #violence cw #graphic descriptions of violence #injuries #dark romance #protectiveness #Jas is into it #Tikos has cold anger

[onzeziggy]

Thank you so much Pau @dagcutie and Cille @birthdaysentiment for thinking of me and tagging me in this, love youuu <33 Ngl, it was the hardest tagging game I’ve ever done before hahah, but ahh I loved doing this so much and sorry in advance for this book I wrote lol.

Favorite thing about season 3: so many things! The fact that we didn’t know anything about bel!even for 2 weeks straight and then this bleached haired kid appeared, looking like THAT, and stole both ours and Robbe’s heart. Of course the mural, like they really did that! The flatshare dynamics and the Willems’ chemistry. The soundtrack which I still listen to every single day and so so much more...

Favorite clip: i love that there doesn’t exist a wrong answer for this one, every single clip is a masterpiece on itself. I’m just going to say that one clip with Robbe in it lol.

Favorite scene: Sander looking at Robbe and that little smile (and snort) while the doors of the elevator are opening and that floating over in the tunnel scene and them being finally free and so happy for the first time in forever, together. Also maandag 11:03 and the drawings going over in the real scenes.

Favorite shot: every single shot of their hands, like vrijdag 21:21, maandag 11:03, dinsdag 07:27, vrijdag 22:53 when Sander is caressing Robbe’s neck :’)) If when we’re finally going to get that scene of Sobbe holding hands, I will scream and die in the process.

Favorite kiss that Robbe initiates: I was watching the cuddle clip today and I couldn’t stop watching the kiss after Sander said “some vergeet ik hoe jong gij zijt”. Like, Robbe’s smile and him just staring at Sander’s eyes and lips before leaning in. And ahh that little pause while realizing how happy he is before leaning back in again. Also the one of dinsdag 07:27 where Robbe is making sure to Sander that he isn’t going anywhere, that whole clip is just so soft and I love it.

Favorite kiss that Sander initiates: the one in the “sinterklaas clip” I mean, he kept Robbe hanging !2! times in less than a minute long, because he first had to put his shoe. And the moment that he decorated his boyfriend’s shoe himself, he couldn’t wait another second to kiss him and drag him to his room, love it!

Favorite Robbe dialogue: gonna say the one line which wtfock decided to not put subs for. Maandag 11:03, Robbe: “ik heb u zo gemist” the way I screamed when I found out about that and it was the only thing that Sander had to hear in that moment. But like, every single sentence that Robbe said in this clip was just pure perfection.

Favorite Sander dialogue: “Nergens zo gelukkig als wij” I mean, have you seen his smile? Did you see how insanely happy he was in that exact moment... that shot of Sander while him saying that line just owns my heart.

Favorite hug: Robbe’s and Milan’s hug after you know what happened. It makes me cry every single time and you can feel so many emotions.

Favorite 21:21: vrijdag 21:21 is such a masterpiece and it owns my heart. It’s so aesthetically pleasing to look at, like the orange colors are my favorites. And Sander saying “Gij en ik, 💯 procent voor altijd, in elk universum”, I’m not crying, you are. The way you could feel every emotion without them even saying anything and when they let go completely and get lost in each other... and the moment they fell out of the bed with the Spider-Man kiss following, yeah...

Favorite scene x song pair: their first date and two men in love, no thoughts, only full of emotions.

Favorite banter on Instagram: okay this is such a hard one and I can’t choose again oops! Of course the discussion about the use of emojis and Robbe telling Sander to go to sleep lol, that was just iconic! Also Robbe saying that Sander is his fetish, no matter what his hair looks like and I mean same lol. But they also bonded quite some times under posts of Sander’s drawings. Like the two during lockdown... Sander drawing his own face so Robbe can still have him close 🥺 and Sander saying “miss his touch” and Robbe “ik tel de dagen af” like I felt that! And omg omg the drawing of Robbe from woensdag 21:21 and Robbe’s comment “if you say swim, I’ll swim with you” sksiskis I got that reference.

Favorite message between Robbe and Sander: the one when Robbe went out shopping with Zoë and asked if he should bring a present for Sander and he replied with “gij zijt al cadeau genoeg voor mij” that really was the sweetest thing ever and of course all of their text messages during wtfockdown with them saying how much they miss and love each other.

Favorite Instagram post:

Hahaha sorry for this essay but it’s the effect of Robbe’s story on me... I’m going to tag @annonymannonym @vataraxia @sanderxrobbee @mijnlief @franboos @remy3010 @pamouche @foxsake5 @happilyinsane @indimlights of course feel free to ignore if you don’t want to do this or you’ve already done this <33

#I love this and thinking back at season 3 is always so emotional lol #I hope you’re all having the most amazing day/night #kusjessss <33 #tagging game

[vajranam]

Five Dakinis Families

All dakinis have extraordinary powers -- the worldly ones and those referred to as wisdom dakinis -- but only the motivation of the latter is completely pure.  The life story of the Mahasiddha, Tilopa (988 - 1069) tells how after he met the dakinis who could manipulate appearances, he encountered the ones embodying the five activities, and then at last, in the heart of the mandala, The Wisdom Dakini, herself.  The Life of Padmasambhava According to Yeshe Tsogyal describes a similar progression. 

Tilopa Meets the Dakinis  

The 4th Chetsang Rinpoche (1770-1862) of the Drikung Kagyu tells how the Bengali brahmin boy, Salyeu, out minding water buffalo, was visited by a "fearsome, ugly woman" who told him to ". . . herd buffalo And read scriptures. There you will find the prophecies of the Dakinis."

With this, she disappeared.

Some time later, while he was reading under a shapa [hat-shaped?] tree, she returned, and asked him to identify himself to her. He gave the appropriate, ordinary information, but she corrected him, saying: 

"Your country is Oddiyana in the North; your father is Chakrasamvara; your mother is Vajrayogini: your brother is Pantsapana [Hind: Panchpana], and I am your sister, Bliss-giver.  If you want to find the true buffalo go to the forest of the bodhi tree.  There the stainless Dakinis hold the ear-whispered teachings."   

He said, "If I go there, the Dakinis will pose obstacles and prevent me from succeeding." She said: "Yogi, you can get the teachings. You have received the predictions And kept the samaya vows."

Realizing she was a Dakini, he said: "The path is dangerous and I do not know how to traverse it." In reply she gave him a crystal ladder, a jeweled bridge, and a coral-handled key, saying: "I give you my blessings; depart without hesitation."

The young man, who would become known as Mahasiddha Tilopa, then crosses the country to reach Oddiyana where, using the magical tools, he negotiates  a poison lake and the "iron wall of Ghandola."   Then, he chooses the correct one of the three gates to the Temple of Ghandola and, using his coral key, he enters.    

First, he meets nirmanakaya "stainless Dakinis Who desire flesh and blood." in their many fearsome forms that make terrible noises and threatening gestures, but he is not afraid.  Frustrated, they fell into a faint, and when they regained their composure, they begged his forgiveness and admitted:

    "We are to you as the butterfly to the lamp; The butterfly hopes to extinguish the lamp, But instead dies in the light. ... , ... ." 

One among them continued:  "I am just an ordinary being, without authority.  If I do not ask our leader's permission to let you in, She will eat my flesh and drink my blood.  Therefore, precious one, do not think unkindly of me."

Then, samboghakaya Loka Karma Dakinis appear, but by making the three threatening ritual gestures, Tilopa overpowers their faculties of body, speech and mind. They suffer the same as the previous group, and their leader, "a  Minister," goes to announce him to the Queen.   When she permits him to enter, he does not even bow but rather assumes a state of meditation, so the host of attending Dakinis get angry, saying:

"She is the blessed one, The mother of the Buddhas of the Three Times.  Let us beat him Who shows no respect."

The Mother intervenes saying that he is ". . .  . The father of the Buddhas of the Three Times.  Even a rain of vajras . . . Could not destroy him. Therefore I will give him the teachings."

She instructs him in prana [breath/energy] and other unrecorded things, but he insists on more, and Tilopa says that he wants " . . . the perfect teaching.  The stainless bliss, the great secret Of the ordinary and the extraordinary."

She then agrees to confer the three wish-fulfilling gems including the self-arising body of co-emergent Wisdom and Means united; the speech that is the 7-syllable self-arising emerald in the Dharmakara, and the 5-pointed vajra jewel of self-arising mind, but only if he can understand the signs.  The host of Dakinis express their doubt that he will be able to understand the signs, but Tilopa responds directly to the Mother, that he has 3 special keys, and that they are:   

1.  The self-liberation key of samaya that grants access to "the light of wisdom which dispels the darkness of ignorance, And to self-awareness, self-arising, ad self-clarity." 

2.  "the key of experience Which opens the door to the mind-as-such, Self-appearing clarity which is ever unborn, . . .  ." and

3. "the key of experience of the realized yogi" that opens the door to "Mind-as-such, Dharma-as-such, and Dharmakaya."

At that the Dakinis rejoice and hold a Ganachakra feast in which they prepare the sindhura (vermillion powder) mandala and further empower him by means of both oral and mental transmissions.  They give him 13 distinct tantras for the future benefit of beings including Tantra of Vajra Dakini, Tantra of Sangwai Zo and Tantra of Vajradhara Self-appearance.  Then they liken him to a bird and, having addressed him as Chakrasamvara and as Prajnabadra, they beg him to remain with them.  

Knowing the future, Tilopa explains that he must return to Tsukgi Norbu (Crest Jewel) Monastery "For the spiritual sons Naropa, Ririkasori and others."  

As he was leaving, a formless Dakini bestowed 9 special objects with instructions to:

1. "loosen the knot of the mind"

2. "act like a sword striking water"

3. "chase the sun of realization" [a lasso?]4. "see samaya in the mirror of your mind" 5. "see that the light of awareness is wisdom"6. "turn the wheel of the channel and wind net" 7. "see the outer mirror equalizing taste" 8. "see the mahamudra [a seal?] of self-liberation" 9. hold "the jewel of great-bliss speech"

And that, according to the Drikung Kagyu, is "how Tilopa as a human being over- powered the Dakinis, and how he received the teachings. "

Consorts of Transcendent Buddhas

Tibetan Buddhism acknowledges, besides the historical Buddha Siddhartha Gautama Shakyamuni (532-486 BCE) other buddhas (awakened ones/fully aware ones) of the past and the future. At the ultimate level of reality there are transcendental buddhas.  These are thought of as five families or categories of buddhas.  

Their female consorts are regarded as "enlightened wisdom" which, paired with the male aspect or "skillful means," give rise to the enlightened compassionate activity of the universe(s).  Hence there are 5 major corresponding dakinis: Padma-Dakini, Buddha-Dakini, Ratna-Dakini, Karma-Dakini, and Vajra-Dakini or Vishva-Dakini (vajra-cross dakini.)

Dakinis of the Five Families

The Padma or lotus dakini is stocky with oily, pink skin.  

She is talkative and lusty. 

She controls gods, demons and men.

With her, the doors to rebirth in lower realms are closed.

Buddha (Sangye) dakini is bluish white.

She is smiling, placid and long-lived.

She confers longevity and rebirth in the dakini paradise.

Ratna or jewel dakini is tall, slim, golden- skinned with white hair.

She sings and dances.

She grants wealth and success in life.

With her the hell realms will be closed. 

The Karma or activity dakini is white and radiant.

She is smiling, respectful, 

trustworthy, and generous.

She grants worldly success and rebirth as a human.

Vajra (Dorje) or thunderbolt dakini is fair, flushed and radiant.

She has special marks such as 5 white moles at her brow.

Compassionate, pure, virtuous and devout, with her there is no falling into any lower realm.

[From John Stevens' Lust for Enlightenment (Shambala 1990)  citing Dowman's Divine Madman.]

or Four  Orders 

The Sanglingma or Life of Padmasambhava According to Yeshe Tsogyal repeatedly makes reference to four orders.

The lowest order of dakini consists of beings who have not fully divorced themselves from the world of existence, samsara.  This worldly kind of dakini is the sort that may behave like Tricksters -- sometimes helpful; at other times, mischief-making. These  dakinis can appear as beautiful fairies or angels, but also as ghouls and demons. 

or Five Sisters

In the life story of Padmasambhava, The 5 Tsering-ma were transformed from evil-doers who could manipulate beings by means of visual and auditory illusions into sworn and bound protectors of the dharma by the Guru.

 From Thinley Norbu's Magic Dance: The Display of the Self-Nature of

the Five Wisdom Dakinis. (Shambhala, 1999):

Five Wisdom Sisters,

If we do not complement you,

You become five witches,

Making us ill and bringing us suffering.

Because we cannot banish you,

Always our fate depends on you.

Five Wisdom Sisters,

If we do complement you,

You become five angels,

Making us healthy and bringing us happiness.

Because we cannot separate from you,

Always our fate depends on you.

Five Wisdom Sisters,

Nothing can be done without depending on your mood.

Farmers cannot grow their crops,

Politicians cannot rule their countries,

Engineers cannot work their machines,

Doctors cannot heal their patients,

Scientists cannot do their research,

Philosophers cannot make their logic,

Artists cannot create their art,

Without depending on your mood.

Five Wisdom Sisters,

Nothing can be known without depending on your grace.

Tibetan lamas cannot chant with cool highland habit,

Indian gurus cannot sing with warm lowland habit,

Japanese roshis cannot sit with dark cushion habit,

Muslim sheikhs cannot dance with bright robed habit,

Jewish rabbis cannot pray with soft-voiced habit

Without depending on your grace.

Five Wisdom Sisters,

Even the most mysterious miracles cannot occur without complementing your purity.

Buddha Shakyamuni cannot rest with tranquil gaze of his lotus eyes underneath the Bodhi tree,

Guru Padmasambhava cannot play magically with countless sky-walking dakinis,

Lord Jesus cannot walk weightlessly across the water,

Prophet Moses cannot see the radiantly burning bush,

Brahmin Saraha-pa cannot straighten arrows, singing wisdom hymns with his arrow-maker girl,

Crazy saint Tilopa cannot eat fish and torture Naropa,

Greatest yogi Milarepa cannot remain in his cave, singing and accepting hardships

Without complementing your purity.

You are so patient.

Whoever wants to stay,

If you don't exist,

Cannot stay.

Whoever wants to go,

If you don't exist,

Cannot go.

Whoever wants to taste or touch,

If you don't exist,

Cannot taste or touch.

Whatever our actions,

You are always supporting

Patiently without complaining.

But we ignorant beings

Are always ungrateful,

Stepping on you,

Calling you Earth.

You are so constant.

Whoever wants to be purified,

If you don't exist,

Cannot be purified.

Whoever wants to quench their thirst,

If you don't exist,

Cannot quench their thirst.

Whoever wants to hear,

If you don't exist,

Cannot hear

Whatever our actions,

You are always flowing

Ceaselessly without complaining.

But we desiring beings

Are always ungrateful,

Splashing you,

Calling you Water.

You are so clear.

Whoever wants to fight,

If you don't exist,

Cannot fight.

Whoever wants to love,

If you don't exist,

Cannot love.

Whoever wants to see,

If you don't exist,

Cannot see.

Whatever our actions,

You are always glowing

Un-obscuredly without complaining.

But we proud beings

Are always ungrateful

Smothering you,

Calling you Fire.

You are so light.

Whoever wants to rise,

If you don't exist,

Cannot rise.

Whoever wants to move,

If you don't exist,

Cannot move.

Whoever wants to smell,

If you don't exist,

Cannot smell.

Whatever our actions,

You are always moving

Weightlessly without complaining.

But we envious beings

Are always ungrateful,

Fanning you,

Calling you Air.

You are so open.

Whoever wants to exist,

If you don't exist,

Cannot exist.

Whoever doesn't want to exist,

If you don't exist,

Cannot cease to exist.

Whoever wants to know phenomena,

If you don't exist,

Cannot know phenomena.

Whatever our actions,

You are always welcoming

Spaciously without complaining.

But we ignorant beings

Are always ungrateful,

Emptying you,

Calling you Space.

You are our undemanding slave,

Tirelessly serving us,

From ordinary beings to sublime beings

To fulfill our worldly wishes.

You are our powerful queen,

Seductively conquering us,

From ordinary beings to sublime beings,

Into desirable qualities.

You are our Wisdom Dakini,

Effortlessly guiding us with your magic dance,

From ordinary beings to sublime beings,

Into desireless qualities.

#wisdom #spirituality #mindfulness #meditation #religion #buddhism #self care #zen #visualization #tibet

[ryqoshay]

Putting on Hairs: Favorable Dress

Primary Pairing: YohaRiko Hinted: KotoUmi Words: ~2.4k Rating: G? Maybe mild T for one of the implications...? AU: Theater, Werewolf, Werebeast, Monster, Cryptid, Angelic, Demonic

----------

Author’s Note: I honestly can’t remember the last time I’ve written this much in this short of time...

Summary: Riko is hoping Kotori and Yoshiko can make a dress for her. But nothing is free...

----------

Riko approached the costume department with severe trepidation. Her heart was actively trying to pound itself out of her chest at the thought of facing her. Well, not her specifically, she knew she would feel this way about anyone of her kind. But right now, she was the one here.

But, of all the places in this amazing, wonderful world, why did she have to fall here? In this country? In this city? And now she was working at the same theater where Riko had just recently been hired.

Of course, the very same thing could be asked of Riko herself. Why did she have to flee to this particular island off the main coast? Choose this particular city? Accept a position playing the piano in the orchestra pit of this particular theater?

Was this all His idea of a cruel joke?

It was bad enough that she had stood so close during the meeting earlier in the day where the theater’s premiere patron was introduced. Why did she have to do that? Did she not sense Riko like she sensed her? Was she not uncomfortable with Riko’s presence as Riko was with hers?

Riko sighed. Why was she even doing this? Well, she needed a dress. But surely, she could just go find one at a local shop, right? Did she really need to deal with her to have one made special? But the examples she had see so far were just… otherworldly; so much better than anything she had seen window shopping around the area.

“Ah, Riko-chan!” An ashen blonde head poked into the hallway, startling Riko. “Yoshiko-chan was right when she said you were coming. Welcome! Come on in!” Kotori ushered the redhead into the room.

“Pardon the intrusion…” Riko said as she stepped through the door, immediately needing to resist the urge to turn back and run.

There she was, black wings spread wide in all their glory and looking as powerful as any other angel, despite her fallen status. And she was… trimming fur from a black kitten in her lap? What?

Yoshiko looked up with a surprisingly cheerful smile. “Welcome to Hell Zone, Riko!”

“Hell… Zo… eh?” Riko’s gaze flitted fervently around the room, seeking hellforged artifacts or demonic runes or something, anything that might imbue the area with the powers of Hell. And while she certainly sensed auras radiating off most of the equipment and tools, nothing appeared to be of infernal or divine origin.

“Or would you prefer I call you Pirum?”

“Eehhh?!” Riko aborted her vain attempts to scour the room as Yoshiko uttered her true name.

“Kind of a strange name for a demon, though…” Yoshiko continued as if she hadn’t noticed Riko’s reaction. “Do you guys even have pears down there?”

“Now, now, Yoshiko-chan,” Kotori chided playfully “we shouldn’t scare our clients like that. Now, what can we do for you, Riko-chan?”

“Uhm…” Riko fidgeted with her fingers, trying desperately to resist fleeing. “Kurosawa-san recommended I check with you about having a dress made for an upcoming recital?”

“Of course!” Kotori chirped. “We would be happy to make something for you.”

“She, uhm, didn’t give me an idea about pricing though…”

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.” Kotori smiled. “You’re in the orchestra here, right?”

“Yes… but…”

“So, we’ll make the dress for you and you can just owe us a favor.”

Something about the sparkle in the costume designers eye made Riko feel a bit ill at ease. More so than she already was.

“I’m not sure…”

“Surely you know about favors, right?” Yoshiko spoke up. “Your boss’s boss is fond of them, right?” She offered a decidedly devilish grin.

“Uhm…” Riko felt her knees start to shake.

“Don’t mind them.” A deep, masculine voice said from… somewhere. Riko couldn’t readily identify the source. “They’re just teasing you.”

“Phobetor.” Yoshiko gently swatted the kitten in her lap.

Wait, that had been the cat that spoke? But its mouth hadn’t moved. How… Then again, it wasn’t the strangest thing Riko had seen, here or down below.

“Sorry if we scared you.” Kotori giggled. “I am serious about the favor, but don’t worry, it won’t be anything beyond what you’re capable of giving.”

“What… did you have in mind?”

“Hrm…” Kotori considered for a moment. “Would you mind show me your wings?”

“Eh? My… my wings?”

“Yes, please.” Kotori nodded. “You’re a demon, right? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a demon’s wings. Are they feathered like Yoshiko-chan’s or leathery and bat-like or skeletal like in some movies?” She seemed to be getting pretty excited about the concept.

“Uhm… could we maybe… close the door first?” Riko requested meekly.

She realized that was closing off her easiest route of escape, but unless it was imbued with some anti-demon inscription or blessed or whatever, it wouldn’t actually prove much of a barrier to her. Also, despite her persisting fear, something in the back of her mind had begun insisting she could trust these two. Or three, really.

Yoshiko hadn’t attacked her on sight. Kotori obviously knew her nature and wasn’t afraid or hateful, rather she seemed genuinely intrigued. And while they had both teased her, neither had been malicious. Even Yoshiko’s mention of her true name had seemed more like an honest, if again teasing, question than some attempt to wield power over her.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Riko unfurled her wings.

Kotori’s eyes grew wide in awe. “They’re beautiful…” She marveled.

Riko blushed. She’d never heard that word associated with her wings before.

“Can I…?” Kotori reached forward.

Riko offered a weak nod before flinching a little as the designer’s hands began exploring.

“Definitely bat-like.” Kotori murmured, moving her fingers gently across the membrane. “A little drier than I expected, but still, lovely material. These will do nicely.”

“M-material?” Riko instinctively snapped her wings back in. “Are you saying you want me to trade my wings for a dress?”

“Not in their entirety.” Kotori replied. “Just a clipping. A little goes a long way, especially when imbued with such power.”

“Uhm…”

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea, Kotori.” Yoshiko spoke up.

“Oh?” The lead designer asked.

“Because demon wings are different than those of an angel, or a crane.” The blue-haired girl explained. “I mean, I’m no expert in demon physiology, but I’m pretty sure she’s got veins and nerves and stuff running throughout. It’s probably hurt her more than when you or I just pluck our feathers; certainly more than trimming Phobetor’s fur.”

“Although,” Phobetor spoke again “with her regeneration, she could very quickly heal the amount I assume you would be taking.”

“Yeah, but…” Yoshiko started.

“And if I recall correctly, that Kanata girl can adjust her abilities to numb rather than put to sleep. She’d be fully regenerated before she actually felt anything.”

Kanata? “Konoe-san?” Riko asked. “I thought I felt another demonic presence here.”

“Indeed.” Phobetor stood and stretched before yawning. “Although she is here for different reasons than you. While she is here to feed, you seem more interested in music. Pray tell, did you grow weary of playing Hell’s music and came to Earth for a change of pace?”

Riko blinked. “How… how did you know?”

“One of my primary duties is to run reconnaissance and monitor all local entities that could pose a threat to my master.” The cat explained. “Celestials, especially demons, are always worth investigation.”

“I see… wait, so you’ve been spying on me?”

“Indeed. And I have determined that you are not a threat to my master, Ms. Pirum.”

“… Oh…” Whatever was left of Riko’s fear was displaced entirely by embarrassment. “I see, well… uhm… Anyway, Riko is fine…”

“Very well. Riko it is.” Phobetor gave a single, curt nod. “Though it must be said that my assessment is not an indictment upon your power. You are still a demon after all. Rather, I have determined you to be far too… demure, for lack of a better word.”

“… Oh…”

“Also, your reading proclivities are quite… interesting, I must say.”

“Eh?”

“Oh? What kinda books do ya read, Riko?” Yoshiko perked up suddenly. “Earth is filled with a ton of strange tomes and some of their ideas on magic and such are utterly baffling. Though there are some amazing artists who create some amazing manga and doujin. Humans can tell such wonderful stories.”

“D… doujin…” Riko felt herself blush.

“Yeah, have you ever been to Comiket? Mortals sure know how to celebrate their hobbies.”

“She has attended.” Phobetor confirmed.

“Phobetor…” Riko whined.

“Really?” Yoshiko became even more excited. “Maybe we should go together this year.”

“… Maybe…”

“I do believe your tastes are vastly different, though.” Phobetor said.

“Oh? What kinda stuff do you like, Riko?” Yoshiko asked again.

“Uhm…” Riko hesitated.

“Her preferred reading material is…”

“<Stay thy tongue, meddlesome furball!>” Riko snarled in an ancient demonic language.

The other three occupants in the room stared at her in stunned silence.

Riko’s hands flew up to clamp across her mouth as heat exploded across her cheeks, spreading quickly to her ears and down her neck.

Yoshiko snorted.

“I’m… I’m so sorry…” Riko cried, her voice muffled through her fingers. “I didn’t mean…”

Yoshiko burst out laughing. Kotori giggled.

“I thought… you said… she was too demure…” Yoshiko managed get out between bouts.

“That seemed like the best description at the time.” Phobetor stated matter-of-factly.

“Are you… sure… she’s not a… threat?”

“My assessment remains unchanged.”

Why in the nine circles did you have to go and do that, of all things? Riko berated herself. She was so embarrassed she felt she could die and go back to Hell. Well, maybe not. She really had no desire to return.

“There, all done.” Kotori suddenly announced.

“Eh?” Riko came back to reality. “Done? Done with what?”

“Your measurements.”

“Measure…”

“For your dress.”

“Yes, I know, but… when did you…?”

“While you, Yoshiko-chan and Phobetor-chan were talking.”

“I didn’t even notice.” Riko admitted.

Kotori smiled. “I’ll draw up some proposed designs and give them to you tomorrow.” she explained. “Once you decide on one you like, we can get to choosing fabrics.”

“Alright.” Riko agreed. “Oh, uhm… about the favor…”

“Oh, don’t worry about the wing thing.” Kotori dismissed. “We’ll think of something else, it’s fine.”

“Well, if you don’t mind my asking, what did you intend to do with the trimmings?”

“Make leather of course. There are a lot of costumes and accessories that need leather, belts, shoes, jackets, all sorts of things.”

“So, it would be used for the theater?”

“Of course!” Kotori chirped. “Everything I do is for Umi-chan’s theater.”

“Unless someone else like Riko comes and wants something made for a non-theater event.” Yoshiko pointed out.

“Well, yes, but the favors we ask in return always benefit the theater.”

“That’s true.” The fallen angel conceded.

Riko steeled herself for what she was about to say. “I’ll do it. You can use some of my wings to make costumes for the theater.”

Kotori’s eyes widened as she inhaled with excitement. “Really?” She grabbed Riko’s hands and pulled herself closer. “You’ll let me make celestially imbued leather?”

“Y-yes...”

“Oh, thank you, Riko-chan!” Kotori surged forward and wrapped her arms around the redhead.

“Hey, Phobetor,” Yoshiko addressed her cat “you wanna go tell Kanata she’s on notice for numbing duties?”

“Will do.”

With that, Phobetor blinked out of existence. Is he a teleporter? Riko wondered.

“Well, we don’t have to do it right away.” Kotori said, pulling out of the hug. “I won’t collect payment until I know my customer is satisfied with the product I am selling them.”

Yoshiko shrugged. “We’re only putting her on notice.”

“Message has been delivered.” Phobetor’s voice sounded before he popped back into the room. “She said it would only take her a second, so we can have her do so whenever we are ready.”

“Only a second, huh?” Yoshiko pondered something for a moment. “I wonder if her sleep spell works that fast too.”

“I would imagine it takes effect quickly, for the sake of facilitating faster feeding.”

“You mentioned feeding before.” Riko said. “She’s not… eating people… is she?”

“Their dreams.” Phobetor responded. “She calls herself a Somnophore, though I believe Somnophage would be more accurate. But who am I to judge such things?” The cat seemed to almost shrug. “I am surprised you did not know.”

“I sensed she was a fellow demon.” Riko admitted. “But I hadn’t had a chance to determine what kind.”

“I’d let her feed on my dreams…” Yoshiko seemed lost in thought.

“Why, do you want her to put you to sleep, Yoshiko-chan?” Kotori asked.

Yoshiko chuckled. “It would help some nights.”

“Well, Kanata-chan seems to love the pillow I made for her.” Kotori explained. “It’s stuffed with a special blend of our feathers and she says it works wonders.”

“A pillow, huh?” Yoshiko turned her head and shifted one of her wings over for inspections. “I never thought about making one of those.”

“I’d be happy to show you how.”

“Alright.” Yoshiko agreed. “Although I’m surprised you didn’t make one for your precious Umi.”

“Of course, I made one for Umi-chan.” Kotori giggled. “But that was years ago, long before I came here. So that one was made with just my feathers. I made one for Honoka-chan then as well.” Her eyes sparkled as she seemed to be reviewing fond memories. “They still have them to this day.”

“Anyway, we should probably get back to work.” Yoshiko hopped up to her feet and moved across the room. “And I know you have rehearsals coming up. It was nice meeting you, Riko.” She smiled and reaching out a hand.

“Likewise.” Riko agreed, accepting the handshake.

“Phobetor tells me you’re quite good on the piano. Which makes sense, given who you serve under.”

“Well, not really.” Riko shook her head. “Not anymore.”

“Ah, I see.” Yoshiko nodded. “I can empathize completely. I haven’t served Him in a good long while.”

“Mm…”

“Anyway, I still look forward to hearing you play.” She grinned. “Maybe Kotori will let me out of this hell every once in a while, so I can head upstairs and listen a few times.”

“Awuuu…” Kotori pouted. “Yoshiko-chan, don’t make me out to be like some hellish taskmaster.” She blinked and turned to Riko. “No offense.”

Riko chuckled. “None taken. There’s certainly no shortage of taskmasters down there. That’s part of why I came up here.” With that said, she turned toward the door. “I’ll see you two… sorry, three, later.”

Words of departure and well wishes followed Riko into the hallway, and as she walked, her thoughts remained on the individuals she had just met. They were an interesting group, to say the least. But friendly, even to a demon like her. Maybe… perhaps, just maybe, working in close proximity to an angel wouldn’t be all that bad after all.

----------

Author’s Notes Continued in Followup Post

#YohaRiko #YoshiRiko #Sakurauchi Riko #Tsushima Yohane #Minami Kotori #Phobetor #Love Live Sunshine #Love Live #Putting on Hairs #fanfic #Tsushima Yoshiko