#she doesn’t even know the word throuple most likely and yet. I know that’s where her head is taking this!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

firelxdykatara · 3 years

Note

You’re doing a LoK rewrite, correct? Would be really interested in hearing how you plan on fixing Suyin’s character and the Lin-Suyin conflict because……. oh boy. Man there’s a lot to unpack there. This is what happens when we don’t let Toph just raise her fucking kids for the sake of pushing a stupid as hell narrative about working women and single motherhood.

I am indeed!

In... you know, the way I'm doing most of my big potential projects, in that I have a folder with some documents that have plot notes and... some day I may actually get full, finished fics out of them (h2o AU is in there, as is my voltron!atla fusion AU, and uhhhh my book 3 atla rewrite, and a few other things), so... but I will say that the docs I have for my LoK rewrite so far amount to roughly 4.2k words of just Plot and Character Notes, which may some day turn into words of Story, hopefully.

ANYWAY, POINT IS: yes, this exists, and I have Many Many Thoughts.

Including how the Gaang kids would shake out! Cause I know I'm doing Zutara, and maybe Tokka???? Although I don't wanna just leave Suki out either... maybe a throuple??? Or Sukka having an amicable breakup before Sokka and Toph get together--maybe she already has Lin by then, and Sokka helps support her through the grief of losing Kanto???? Idk honestly, I haven't actually figured any of that out definitively yet except that Aang was perfectly happy to settle down with an Air Acolyte from one of the rebuilt temples because he grew up and out of his crush on Katara pretty easily once he hit puberty and matured a bit.

UHHH none of which is actually an answer to your question, because it's a valid one! Which is why I've been sitting on this a while (10 days I'm so sorry) bc I haven't made any solid decisions but I've been letting it percolate around my head a bit. And the more I think about it, the more I really like the Sukka -> Tokka idea (and I don't want to kill off Suki since the kids all deserve their awesome Kyoshi warrior auntie in their lives, and also I want a Sukka kid to be besties with Iara [zuko and katara's youngest] so maybe she gets with someone else after she and Sokka split? I could be talked into Ty Lee/Suki actually, the more I think about it....), but obviously having a stable father figure and a Toph who is... not what LoK made her out to be will dramatically change the Beifong family dynamic.

That said, I think I actually have a solution. (I'm so sorry for what I'm about to do.) Toph has Lin with Kanto--and he passes away when Lin is two or three, which is why she has very few memories of her father. (Although none of this 'she doesn't even know his name until she's 50+ cause Toph didn't tell her daughters about their fathers' bullshit.) Sokka is there for her through it all (all of the gaang is, of course, but you know that it sometimes just hits different when it's someone you're also starting to fall in love with, especially when there are older and much more deeply buried feelings there that are now resurfacing, because at least in my version Toph was deeply in love with Sokka when they were teenagers, but he was in love with Suki and she also loved Suki so she didn't want to mess up anything about their family or the group dynamics by making her feelings anyone else's problem), they fall in love, get married and have Suyin.

(Sokka may jokingly refer to it as a shotgun wedding, but the truth is he wanted to propose well before he found out she was pregnant, his attempts just kept getting messed up in increasingly comedic fashion.)

Throughout all of this, Republic City has been established, Sokka is Chancellor, Toph is something of a defacto police chief--mostly because, at the time, no one else was willing to volunteer, and she jokingly offered to whip the law enforcement, but unfortunately everyone else at the meeting took her seriously. However, she is also the founder of the probending league, and basically her feelings about law enforcement are complicated and she actively discouraged her kids from joining the force which is part of why Lin did. How else do you have a teen rebel phase with a parent like Toph? (Which, in this instance, means tough and firm but fair, with a 'you break it, it's up to you to fix it' attitude and very little desire to actually control her daughters and their behavior.)

Ah, but here's the rub.

Suyin is ten years old when Sokka dies, and Lin is sixteen. I'm not sure how he's killed--maybe by Yakone, to tie it into my plans for Amon and book 1. (Note that I'm not sure when the Yakone bloodbending trial happened in canon, but it doesn't matter. The timeline I'm gonna build will be completely different post-comet, and I'll eventually write it all down so that I can keep things straight.) Which would incidentally provide excellent means of having Katara have a very personal stake in the Amon conflict, and perhaps color the fight between him and Iara, but I'm getting off track. And I think Sokka being killed by Yakone, and Toph being unable to protect or save him, or deliver her own brand of justice to avenge him (because Aang is there to stop her and.... shit probably got ugly, I suspect she didn't talk to Aang for at least twenty years after Sokka's death--and this isn't to say I think Toph is particularly violent or murderous, but in that moment, she absolutely wanted to kill the man with her bare hands, and however much she may have regretted it afterwards, she took a very long time to forgive Aang for stopping her in the first place), is what results in Toph stepping down as police chief.

She didn't withdraw from her daughters or fuck off into the swamp or anything (words cannot express how much I hate that part of her canon history), but she did grieve for a very long time. Lin, meanwhile, felt like it was up to her to keep her family together, while also feeling a desperate need to... prove herself, I think. And because her mother was so adamant that she not join the police force, that's exactly what she does. I think Lin completely misread Toph's intentions, too, and believed that the discouragement was because her mother didn't think she had what it takes, when in reality I think Toph was scared of Lin losing herself in the job like she herself had begun to, and eventually coming up on something she couldn't change or fix and making the same mistakes she had.

(I think Toph and Lin have communication issues largely because they are both headstrong and willful, but where Toph thought she was giving her daughters the room they would need to make their own way, what Lin desperately craved was direction and she felt like that was something her mother simply couldn't understand.)

Suyin, on the other hand, fell in with a bad crowd like in canon. I think that what she desperately needed was attention, similar to Lin craving direction, and Toph was trying so hard not to be her own parents that she went a little too far in the other direction and Suyin began to feel like it didn't matter what she did, her mom wouldn't care, or get angry, or discipline her, or anything. Lin and Suyin butted heads a lot growing up, too, especially after Sokka's death, because Lin tried to rein in her sister's behavior and this was met with resistance and derision because Suyin felt like Lin was trying to be both mom and dad and she was neither but her big sister would never admit to being just as lost as she was and it made her furious.

So when Suyin is sixteen, and Lin is twenty-two and new to the force, The Big Rift happens. Lin catches Suyin and her gang, tries to apprehend her, gets a scar on her face in the ensuing conflict. But instead of abusing her power and sending her problem child off to her mother before fucking off to the swamp to avoid the consequences of her actions, Toph tries to actually fix things. Suyin cools her heels in prison for a while, because she was paralyzed by guilt at the time when she hurt her sister (a few inches lower and she could have slit her throat), and was still there when Lin's backup arrived.

Uhhhhhhhhhhh..... I'm so sorry I rambled for so long, BUT THE UPSHOT IS: I think Suyin learned a bit about culpability and taking responsibility for her own actions, Toph realized that her daughters had different needs than she did at their age (and I think a lot of the problem was that grief clouded her own ability to connect with her daughters, and in trying to not be her own parents she lost sight of how to be the parent her own daughters needed), and Lin, I think, had to realize that she had never fully processed the loss of not one but two fathers and had turned to her job in order to avoid actually confronting the grief that had overshadowed her childhood.

However, she did not forgive Suyin, at least not right away--and she wasn't forced or expected to. Suyin understood that she crossed a serious line, she took her lumps and did her time, and no one shamed Lin for her anger. I think, as a result, she had less reason to hold onto that bitterness, and perhaps by the time the story actually begins, she and Suyin are on much better terms, though I haven't worked it out exactly yet.

UHHH yeah I went on for days lmao. All of this is subject to change, too, depending on the needs of the story whenever I get around to actually writing it all down, BUT these are my initial thoughts, at least.

#atla #lin beifong #toph beifong #suyin beifong #tokka #lok rewrite #lok rewrite notes #precious-metal-girl #asked

31 notes · View notes

inyoursheets · 4 years

Note

8 12 18!

Do you listen to music while you write? If so, share a song that’s been inspiring you lately.

i do, at least 90% of the time. you can blame hozier for the angsty turn warm water took. it started out so fluffy and then one night i listened to some of his music while the sun set and suddenly Feelings Happened and i changed it drastically.

Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

hmmmmmm well i don’t have any i desperately wanna write – plenty i desperately wanna read tho. but maybe a good old-fashioned soulmates!AU???? i don’t wanna have a long wishlist of tropes to write bc im not good at balancing multiple WIPs and rn i really don’t wanna start something new, which i might do if i think about this question too much. but there are a lot of tropes that i love!

What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

uhhhhh well since im pretty proud of managing to write rhea, rio and beth having sex in a way that doesn’t feel too OOC to me, here’s a scene from the instigator with DVD commentary.

Taking in the lines of her face, Beth feels giddy with relief. She can’t even begin to express how grateful she is they can have this, this inexplainable, twisted relationship that shouldn’t spark as many feelings deep down inside her as it does. God, she hasn’t had a relationship as difficult to navigate as this one since—

Oh.

Oh no.

so this sort of…….happened by accident? part of the dialogue i mean. part of this i had planned out – i wanted beth and rhea to talk about rio, i wanted to really dive into the complex relationship between beth and rhea and i wanted beth to feel some type of way about rhea and rio, but it wasn’t until later that i realized how easily i could draw a parallel between beth and rhea and beth and rio, which is how this line happened.

“You and him… What are you exactly?”

She looks over her shoulder, up at Rhea’s face. Rhea scoffs, but she smiles down at her, knowing immediately who she’s talking about.

“We’re parents. We’re exes. It’s not that complicated. Unlike you and him.”

Beth grimaces.

“Don’t remind me.”

She leans back against her legs, closing her eyes after taking another sip of the brown liquid Rhea often complains appalls her senses. She’s always quick to pipe back about Rhea’s penchant for rosé, but more often than not she gets reminded of how she brought the first bottle, making her the instigator.

Isn’t that what she always is? The instigator?

roll credits! i think i had the title in mind/was mulling it over and then this line just fit perfectly here, really demonstrating how i view the relationship between beth, rhea, and rio in this fic.

She wants to ask so much more. How often do they see each other? How often do they talk? How well does she know him? Does she like him, or does she simply tolerate him, as the father of her child? Still, the first question that makes it out of her mouth doesn’t revolve around that at all.

“What’s the last time you two…” Her voice trails off, as it should. Dear God, what is she thinking?

“What, fucked?” She can hear the smile in Rhea’s voice. “What’s it to you?” Beth’s cheeks redden quickly.

so in order to get from point a to point threesome, as the prompter put it, i needed to get sex on the table. in a way this is a ridiculous question to ask, but i also think this is the easiest one to voice out loud out of the others going through beth’s head at this point.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure there are miles and miles between our entanglements with Chris.” She’s not sure what that was supposed to reassure either of them of. Or if it’s intentional, how loaded the words sound. She swallows.

“When was the last time? What was it like, I mean.” She can’t help herself. She just has to know.

“Aren’t you full of questions?” Rhea nudges a knee against her, then sighs. “Hmm, I think it was Marcus’ fifth birthday party. We’d been split up for a good while at that point, and we were good, but we were feeling sentimental. A little drunk, too, and it just felt natural, to go there.”

She’s quiet for a moment.

“It felt good, you know? Familiar. Like catching up with an old friend, one you once knew like the back of your hand.”

She sounds a little wistful, like the thought of seeking out that familiarity again has crossed her mind more than once. It makes Beth tense up unwillingly, the creeping sense that she doesn’t know this man she’s been complicatedly entangled with for what feels like a lifetime as well as she thinks she does, as she hopes she does, clouding her mind.

so i know a lot of readers can feel a sense of….. threat, maybe, whenever rio is paired w/ anyone but beth. ive got a lot of theories about why that is and i understand that instinct, as much as i wanna hush it myself, personally. but i really don’t wanna portray rhea as….completely unaffecting rio? i don’t want to write a fic where the man is the prize, the one whose approval other characters try to win the most. so i didn’t wanna write rhea as still harboring feelings for him, but at the same time i do really envision them as having a sense of comradery, of friendship and familiarity, and i think that would extent to sex.

i wanted beth to feel left out of what rhea and rio have, but at the same time make it clear that what rhea and rio have versus what beth and rio have versus what rhea and beth have are very different things and they’re almost incomparable. like, rhea and rio have history and friendship and trust in a way that beth lacks with both of them – something i also tried to convey when they actually get down and dirty, but as rhea says herself before, they’re exes, they’re parents, it’s not that complicated. what they feel for each other isn’t complicated, unlike what rhea feels for beth, unlike what beth feels for rhea, unlike what beth and rio feel for each other.

Rhea studies her face, her silence. “What’s it to you?” she repeats, voice not unkind. Beth shrugs.

“I’m just trying to understand, I guess. Make sense of him.”

“Good luck with that,” Rhea snorts, knocking back her glass of wine in one go. And just with that, the clouds dissipate, the sun back into view.

with all that i said before in mind – i also didn’t want beth to actually be threatened by rhea and rio’s relationship. it's fine for her to feel threatened – that’s actually fun to write and came in handy later, also in part two – but i wanted to make sure beth and rhea aren’t in some sort of competition for rio – which is why i literally made the clouds dissipate here. if anything, i wanted rio and rhea to be in competition, which, in a way they actually are in this fic! but again as i said before, the different relationships between the characters really aren’t all that comparable, so there is no real competition, not in any ‘direction’.

i really enjoyed diving into the different relationships and i wanted to give all of them their own appeal. i think what rhea and beth have is something unique and fascinating, something rio can’t touch or fulfill, just like beth can’t ever have with rio what rhea and rio have, exactly, just like rhea isn’t what rio is for beth. im trying to dive into that even more in the second part, also considering what the prompter asked (rio and beth confronting their feelings the day after), meaning there is brio endgame. but……i love beth and rhea together too much to just completely upend everything i built for them, so…………….. as my fic notes say, marcus, baby, you have some parenting throuple action in your future.

thank you so much for asking and letting me ramble!!!!

fic bts questions

#ask #ask games #sothischickshe #my fic #brio fic #GGPAT2020

13 notes · View notes

mystxxxmomo · 4 years

Note

What are all the relationships you headcanon between characters? Obviously there’s Servant and Izuru, Hajime and Nagito, but what other couples/maybe even throuples(?) Are there?

“Obviously” That you I just snorted. Thats fair, I’m not subtle about my taste.

THAT said, I think my taste is pretty base, all things considered. I don’t have a lot of like.. rare or generally unpopular pairings?

I’ll put the disclaimer that just because I mention something as a ship doesn’t mean I always necessarily think it’s the healthiest relationship in the world. It just means here are these two characters, I think the dynamic between them might be interesting to explore. I figured I should clarify that in a “I’m genuinely not trying to be a smart ass, but everyone has a different meaning to this word so here’s mine.” Kind of way.

I should ALSO mention that I’m deffo not the type of person that is heels in the ground about certain pairings being canon. I go in more about this at the bottom of the post, but also I think there are relationships that could be fun to explore that I wouldn’t see actually happening in canon.

Bolded is things I’ll go out of my way to make content for//indulge in, Italic is things I’ve considered but don’t make content for, and if there’s nothing on it, “I saw some cool stuff with it but most aren’t things I’d explore.”

Dangan 1

Kirigiri/Naegi/Togami. Unlike SOME CHARACTERS He has two hands and he can and will use them. Despite having this bolded, I don’t actually have too much to add to it they’re just pretty quality together. I actually think they’d have a pretty lowkey, comfortable relationship.

Sakura/Aoi - This one is basically canon, in my opinion. You know, till she died. As be the way the way of Dangan.

Chiro/Mondo/Ishimaru - I’ve seen some neat things done with these three in a few fics that were recommended to me!! But most people don’t explore it like how I’d want to explore it, so.

I don’t have a lot of Dangan 1 Ships it’s unfortunately not my fixation.

Dangan 2

Hinata/Komaeda - Well this goes without saying but it still got said. It’s one of those pairings where like, depending on where you place it on the timeline it changes how I think they can be interpreted, and as a result there’s a lot to explore between them. Especially if you add in the added mix of how much I like Kamukura/Komaeda. They’d have a lot of history, a LOT to work through, and they bounce off eachother really well. It’s also one of those pairings where like... they’d have their sweet moments, but I think 90% of the time they’re trying to get under eachothers skin even when they’re together. They’re an old married couple and It’s so fucking funny.

Kuzuryu/Pekoyama - Childhood friends AND She’s taller then him.

Tanaka/Sonia - They’d be kinky as hell too, so you know.

Ibuki/Mikan - [I just think it’s neat] meme. I haven’t actually explored much of it yet but I’ve seen it around and anytime I think about it I just get a lil smile on my face. It would be cute.

Saionji/Koizumi - I think it’s highly likely, and honestly I even put these two together in “people I’d lump together in despair years.” kinda category. But until I get a better grasp of characterizing them they’re in limbo of “yeah thats gay we stan”

Junko/Mikan - Do I think it was healthy? No, I think Mikan’s emotional vulnerability was taken advantage of by a mixture of love bombing, gas lighting, and emotional manipulation until she became Junko’s favorite “Yes Man.” Do I think they fucked? Yeah absolutely, highly likely.

DR;AE

Kamukura/Servant - I think I’ve made enough content for these two for ya’ll to know my thoughts on this. I don’t think I need to add much else to it, but also fuck Danganronpa for saying Kamukura didn’t hang around the other remnants I think these two would have had a very complex dynamic where their relationship at the start is COMPLETELY different then their relationship at the end of despair. It’s not something I’ve gotten too much into on tumblr, because I’ve been bad about not posting any writing to it. But I think the evolution of that would be really neat.

Komaru/Touko-Syo - [Chefs kiss] Yes, please, this is the gay pairing with exactly the type of intensity I want in my WLW relationships. Normie with the former serial killer, thats such a GOD TEIR dynamic. I swear to god, I was reading a fic before I played this game that just HAPPENED to have these two in it, wasn’t even a pairing in it, and I messaged one of my friends like “So are these two this gay in canon or is the author hamming it up?”

No they’re just like that

Danganronpa Another Episode did ONE good thing and that was the lesbians.

Others - This category exists specifically because of Matsuda “Deserves better then Junko” Yatsuke

Kamukura/Matsuda - I think they’d be really funny together.

I also think about the fact that most people that are invested in Matsuda just generally agree he worked on the Kamukura project, and I just think thats neat. I think its also one of those pairings where the potential dynamic changes a lot depending on the point in the timeline you’re at, but also if what kinda universe you’re working in. A universe where he worked on the Kamukura project would create a much different interpretation then just like, a no despair au where Kamukura is just a dude.

Also I think they’d be really fucking funny together. There’s no way Kamukura didn’t mess with this guy.

Komaeda/Matsuda - I don’t actually have a lot to add for these two yet I haven’t worked on anything between them yet. But you know. I read fanfiction and engage with it, so I’ll still count it.

Dangan V3

(I’m still figuring out which ones I’d prefer for v3, considering I only finished it a few days ago. But again on that basic ass shit, I’m into Saihara/Ouma. There’s a lot of really cool content for it.

That said, I easily see this game becoming the most varied in pairings, just because of how distinct the characters relationships are in game. I’d just.. need a bit to actually explore this.)

Though also, I guess as a completely related side note.

Generally speaking I am willing to consider most ships for a hot second. I have like, the ships I’ll go out of my way to make content for//indulge in (Even if I haven’t gotten around to some of them yet) and then anything else is like, if you throw something at me I’ll probably humor you. If you throw fic suggestions at me I’ll for sure read it, even if it’s not a pairing I’m generally interested in. Good writing has no limitations, IMO.

There are a few exceptions to this, but I was a homestuck so like.. //shrug?? Multishipping was just kinda installed into me. I also just like imagining different character dynamics and interactions could work out, even if my interpretations might not follow par to the course all the time. Because you see, SOMETIMES mr dangan fucks up a perfectly good character idea. Sometimes I have to fix the characters myself, and by damn I’ll do that. I am a master of “The medallion says thats stupid so we’re not going to do that.”

(I don’t have a lot of characters I can say with certainty I hate because of this. If I didn’t like their execution in canon I’ll play with different ideas until I come up with something that feels like it still what they were going for, but enough that it pleases me.)

Then again. Some of them follow par to the course to an exact, so it balances out.

This doesn’t just go for ships, either. I like considering how different character friendships would check. But that would need like, it’s own post, and a LOT more then a few paragraphs of rambling.

So yeah. My main ships, the ones I’m willing to fuck with, and then my “I’m literally the easiest bitch around, throw ships at me and I’ll humor you” disclaimer.

#Long post #I won't tag characters because this is probably just gonna stick to my personal blogs #But yeah those are the ships #Asks and Replies

23 notes · View notes

themarissaharrison · 4 years

Text

Three’s Company? | Discord

DISCORD THREAD #001

Who?: Marissa Harrison, Cleo Lopez @cmlopezofficial, Nicola Slone @nicolaeisms When?: At the end of the night of AveRoes wedding reception Where?: Cleo’s Office

Mentions: @thealexkingsley | @allisterjacksonn | Lauren (NPC) | Delilah (NPC) Triggers: Alcohol, Abuse mentions, Violence mentions, Death mentions

MAJOR PLOT DEVELOPMENT?: Yes - Marissa will now be joining Cleo & Nicola for July 4th celebrations in Montatuk. They are now trying to figure out if a Throuple would work for all of them...

CLEO

She smiled warmly. "I don't know where I'd be without you either," she admitted. A life without Nicola... It just didn't seem possible. It wasn't something she can imagine. Kissing her back, though, there was something else. Something that was needed... Someone else. She knows what she needs to do. "There's some broken glass- let me clean that up real quick and I'll text my driver to ask if he can come pick us up. It might take him awhile, though. So please, sit here and make yourself comfortable." Kissing her lips once more, she got up and headed to her desk. She texted her driver, being told to wait twenty minutes... and then she text Marissa, relieved that she was on her way. Grabbing gloves along with a dust pan and little brush, she got to work on cleaning the little mess. Hoping that Marissa will be here soon.

NICOLA

"the broken glass....i might be the reason that there's broken glass." nicola was a little bit aware of alex's temper, and after that shouting game they had, she just know she'd do such thing. it takes her a moment to notice that the button on her blazer was ruined, she was raging mad, too, showing those scars to the younger woman. but when she showed her hers....she couldn't help but despise her father even more, he's a sick fuck, a vile being. she sat quiet there, fighting the thought of ever coming back to chicago on her own, though she didn't want to hurt marissa again, she didn't want to hurt cleo, she didn't want to break their hearts.(edited)

MARISSA

Marissa had been halfway down the street when Cleo text her, ready to head home and have tonight just be over. She was scared, terrified even, that something inside her was breaking again, that she was slipping back down that rabbit hole. Miss me? Why had she said that? She needed a fucking drink, but a quiet one away from the noise of the party. Then Cleo text her and said that one word. Chicago. Marissa knew that whenever it came to that city, Nic would need her. Nic would need them both. She turned around and headed back inside, ignoring anyone who tried to talk to her and headed straight up to Cleo’s office, jacket still on. She slipped inside and saw Nic on the couch and her heart dropped. “What happened?” She asked, furrow in her brow as she closed the door behind her and scanned the room. “What’s with the glass?”

CLEO

"Wait, really? How come, baby?" she furrowed her brows, yet she couldn't look up from her job. Had Nicola been in here when that happened? Oh gods... Did she learn about that bastard being alive in here? Her heart dropped. Did her office leave a bad taste in her mouth now? Is it just going to remind Nic of learning that little information? Maybe if she remodels her office, that could help. Change it, get rid of the stuff that could remind her of that, of him. Marissa showed up just as Cleo cleaned up the remaining bits of glass, the younger blonde standing up and looking at her with relief. "Thank the gods- you're here." Her words were genuine, her small smile warm. Nicola needs them both right now; Surely she'll understand and not be upset that she alerted the brunette. At least, she hoped so... She emptied out the glass pieces into a trash bin before putting the supplies away. "I-I'm not sure," she admitted.

NICOLA

nicola took so long before even being able to respond to the younger woman's question, recalling majority of her and alex's conversation, which she thought was going to be something civil, casual. then it quickly turned around and became a shouting game, both of them showing physical reminders of the suffering both has went through with the man. she was about to respond when the door opens, revealing the brunette who has left her and cleo moments ago. she wanted to ask her where she went, but she was too distracted by what alex has told her. "i....i was looking for you after getting some drinks," she says as she glances at cleo. "i went here and saw his daughter, she told me he's in prison. he's--he's still alive." she needed a drink right now, she's so parched, he breathing's becoming so heavy again. "then....we....i--i showed this to her," she takes her blazer off. "but when she showed me hers....i couldn't take looking at them longer. i...i left...but i heard something crashing before i closed the door. that may be it."

MARISSA

Marissa glanced between the two women, the atmosphere in the room far from what was ever in the dive bar. This was dark, really fucking dark, and Marissa was at a loss of words... That was a first. She forced a smile back at Cleo before moving slowly into the room some more and sitting down on the couch next to Nic. "I-- was headed home, I was going to text you when I got there," she admitted but then everything came to a front and she realised exactly what had happened. "His daughter?" From what Marissa had said about this guy, this gang leader, he didn't seem the type to have a real family. Then again, by the sounds of it this girl was only daughter by blood and nothing else. Marissa took a deep breath in as she leaned forward and poured some more liqor in a glass and handed it to Nic, letting silence wash through the room for a few moments. "He's in prison, Nic... Where he belongs-- it's not an eye for an eye, I know but... It's justice, babe... You're still safe, I am-- Cleo... He's behind bars.".

CLEO

Cleo headed to the couch, taking the seat next to Nicola. Her hand was on her lower back, softly rubbing it as she explained herself. Ah... That explains a lot, she thought to herself. Kissing her shoulder, she looked at the brunette with worry in her eyes. She was still shaken up over Nicola wanting to go back to Chicago, still fearful of turning her back just to look back and realize the older blonde left. Having Marissa here... it helped. It really helped. She had someone who could help her comfort Nic, of making sure that she knew she was safe and that they got her. "It's going to be okay, Nic," she whispered, her other hand resting on her knee. "I promise that nothing is going to happen to you, to us. We're going to be okay. And we got you. I'm sorry that you ran into his daughter..." Hearing about the girl... She couldn't imagine what horrors she faced growing up with a man like that for a father. He was truly no man at all, but a monster. Thriving off of spreading terror and pain to anyone and everyone. And it enraged Cleo. But, she couldn't allow that to show. It would do no good right now. "It's going to be okay, baby. In two days, the three of us are going to take Cordelia to Montauk... we'll celebrate the holiday there with her, together... and we're going to forget the world and everything else for awhile. Nothing else exist except for us, okay?" Kissing her cheek, she nuzzled her face against her hair. "We got you, Nickie... I promise we got you."

NICOLA

the eldest blonde takes the glass from marissa and downs it swiftly, hoping that it would calm down her nerves a little bit. marissa had a point, he's in jail, they're all safe, but it just wasn't enough to silence the worries she's having. "he's in jail," she repeats, "and he gets out in two years, max, according to his daughter. he should've--he should've gotten more than just that." nicola suppresses a hiss that was about to slip from her lips, talking about him brings the worst memories, it makes her recall the misery she’s been through, that it gets to her physically at times, cleo witnessed it a lot for the past four years, marissa….she recently witnessed it when they were in chicago. they’re the only people in her life who has witnessed her most vulnerable, helpless side, and she hated it, she hated to see the hurt on their faces whenever she’s in that state. she doesn’t want to make them worry even more, maybe their time in montauk would help her and the need to come back to chicago. perhaps a time away with the most important women in her life would at least make her forget. “if anything happens to you two and cordelia, i won’t know what i’ll fucking do.”

MARISSA

Marissa leaned forward, her elbows on her knees as she looked up at Nic and tried to get some kind of read as to what was really going on in there. Was she thinking about going back? Killing him? "Leave the past where he belongs, Nic, baby..." Oh, if only those two knew how hypocritical that was coming from her after what she'd just been through. She pinched the bridge of her nose and rubbed her tired eyes as she sighed gently. Marissa had never been a great comforter, she was very much the type of person someone would come to when they wanted the truth. "If anything happens to anyone, then we'll deal with it... But, honey, two years is a long time. He's in a prison, in Chicago too. That corrections department has the highest prisoner murder rate in the country, so even if he makes it out of there alive... I think he's going to be having more problems up there, rather than coming down here and looking for people he's-- never even heard of before..." She furrowed her brow a little as she glanced to Cleo, glad at least one of them seemed to know how to comfort someone. "Don't-- don't go back, Nicola... It's not going to change anything... It's not going to bring her back..."

CLEO

"I know you're scared, baby," she mused softly. She brought her hand from her back to caress her head. After four years of their friendship, four years of many nights together fighting of her nightmares and memories, she's learned a thing or two on how to help calm down the owner of Blue. "Marissa is right- there's always the chance that he's made some enemies in there and the next time he does leave, it's in a body bag." She didn't want to think of the possibility of him knowing about them, about Cordelia. If his daughter was in Kingsboro, there could be a chance any of men being here as well. She was not about to speak aloud about that- that would cause more harm than good. "I know... I know that it hurts. That what happened to Lauren... If she was here, she would ask you not to go back. So please... Please stay with us." She moved her hand from Nicola's knee, holding it out in offer to Marissa while she kept her eyes on the older blonde. "Stay with us and we'll go to Montauk together soon. Nothing's going to happen to us and Cordelia- the four of us are going to be okay and together." Glancing at the brunette, she smiled softly. "Maybe even start a little sooner. Maybe... Marissa, would you like to stay with us before we head off to Montauk? We'll be together... You can meet Dela... We'll be safe, the four of us. What do you say?" Please... Please say yes. Please come home.

NICOLA

she wanted to, she has been trying to leave the past, but it’s always there to haunt her back when she’s at her most defenseless state. but nicola couldn’t just tell them that. she takes a deep, tired sigh, scooting close to marissa’s side as she rested her forehead against her shoulder. he was in maximum security prison, and even though he’s a notorious gang leader, there’s a chance that he would survive that place is most likely not high. she’s almost brought to a similar prison so many years ago, just when she met lauren. “i don’t think he’ll forget the woman who almost ended his life.” she whispers in reply. it’s a battle of her mind versus the women she loves the most, though both of them has a point. it wouldn’t bring lauren back to life, it won’t bring things back to how it was before, that lauren…..she’s isn’t going to be happy about this if she were to know it. hell, the blonde was sure she’s disappointed in her for what she did back then. she takes marissa’s other hand to hold and intertwines their finger and glances her with pleading evident in her eyes. she wanted her them with them, besides the fact that it’ll be great for them to be away from kingsboro for a while, she wanted both women to get to know each other more.

MARISSA

Marissa knew that there was not really anything that could be said to truly calm the older blonde. She wondered for a moment, as she glanced at the younger one whether Cleo had experienced that kind of loss before... Was she as broken as her and Nic? Did she understand? Riss was finding it hard to stay in the moment and not retract into her own head, there was so much going on in there she almost wanted to scream for it to stop. She didn't let it show though, not on her features, although the older blonde probably knew her eyes enough to know something was going on. When Cleo asked her to come and stay before the trip, she wasn't sure what her best option was... But, then Nicola grabbed her hand and gave her that look. She swallowed and nodded with a gentle sigh. The last thing Marissa wanted was for Nic to be so on edge and worried about her that she couldn't relax which was clearly what would happen if how she was in Chicago earlier in the week was anything to go by. "Okay..." She breathed out, glancing between Nic and Cleo. "I'll-- message Aaron, get him to look after the gallery and our clubs for a week... He owes me one, anyway," she forced a smile. "I'll probably need to go to my Manhattan office tomorrow and reschedule some things but-- I'll.. I'll take one of your security detail, if that will make you feel-- safer... Better.." She looked at Nic.

CLEO

She had never lost someone she loved more than life to death before. While the breakup with Allister had crushed her, changed her in a way, and felt like a loss, he was still alive and well. But those first few years in Los Angeles certainly hadn't been kind. She'd done some horrible things to survive while living there- but essentially, no. The closest she got was with Nic and learning everything. Learning about the man that took everything from her. Hearing about it all so many times, witnessing the aftermath of the pain and torture Nicola went through, doing everything she can to comfort her while occasionally having nightmares of her experiences herself: it had given Cleo a taste of what she'd been through. Watching Marissa, she was worried for a moment there she was going to say no. She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until she agreed, letting it out softly and giving her a warm smile. "That sounds like a plan," she said. "My driver will be here in... ten to fifteen minutes and then, we'll be home. Cordelia's at a sleepover tonight, she should be back at the penthouse at around noon. It's going to be okay. We're... We're going to be okay."

NICOLA

"merci, ma chère," she whispers, taking marissa hand to her lips and kisses the back of her palm. after what's happened in chicago, the brunette witnessing her lose it, it was a relief that she agreed on cleo's proposal. nicola needed her around, too. considering that she promised...she'd never disappear again unlike what she did so many years ago. what has her still clinging on the need to stay is that she promised that she'll keep herself safe, that....she'd never waste this chance of having marissa back again in her life. she looks down, running her finger along her bracelet that she gave the other before glancing back up to give her a soft kiss, turning to the younger blonde, "thank you...for being here," she whispers, kissing her too before taking her hand to hold. "i....i'll call one of my security detail to accompany you, riss. and my chauffeur, he can be of your service while i stay at cleo's. i'll call someone at blue and cherry pop to take over while i'm away." knowing that she'll now have both women wand cordelia with her at montauk, it somehow brings peace to her mind.

MARISSA

Marissa nodded a little as she leaned forward and poured herself herself a glass of whisky, the thoughts of what happened last time running through her mind as if they happened yesterday. Waking up, no note, no phone call, no-one being able to tell her where she'd gone, even the workers at Blue... If she had to go through that again, that would be it, every chance at finding what they had lost that morning would disappear and she knew that Nicola knew that. She just... Didn't quite know whether that would be enough to keep her away from the windy city. "Just a-- security detail will be alright Nic, you know how I like to drive," she smirked a little before taking a sip of the liquor. "It's gonna be alright, you know?" Marissa glanced at Nic before returning her gaze into the murky brown drink. "He's alive, but then he's been alive for what-- four years? Nothing has happened since you got back here... No-one has been attacked, no-one's being followed..." That we know of... Probably not best to mention that... "It'll be okay..." Was she convincing Nicola, or herself?

CLEO

She watched them, eyes trailing to the bracelet on the younger girl's wrist then back to their faces. And for the first time that evening, she felt like an intruder. That she was an audience member watching a play, witnessing an intimate moment between two lovers while she had no business being there. It wasn't a great feeling. She smiled softly as she kissed her back, squeezing her hand for a moment before letting go. "I need to work on a few things real quick." Her voice came out soft, as if worried that if she spoke up a little more that it would ruin the moment between the two women. She got up from the couch and headed to her desk, keeping her back to the two lovers so they wouldn't catch the pursing of her lips and the awkwardness on her face. The conversation felt like it should be shared between those two, not including her. She worked out a list of commands to share with her PA and the higher ups at the restaurant. She was already planning on the restaurant being closed for the next week so that the restaurant could get a deep cleaning and sanitation after tonight. She also included to make sure to write that the staff were to have the week off while still being paid while making sure that the fish and aquariums will be taken off- and for the islands in the kitchens to all be replaced and to start remodeling her office. Checking her phone, she groaned softly. "Car's being delayed; There was an accident and now, my driver's stuck in traffic. He's not sure if he'll be here in fifteen minutes or longer." If she's going to have to spend the next fifteen minutes or longer feeling like a third wheel, she was honestly worried slightly for the next ten days already.

NICOLA

"alright, just a security detail, i guess i need to call my chauffeur too so he could take a week off." nicola tucks a loose hair behind marissa's ear. she feels a little bit peaceful now compared to moments ago, having the two women to calm her down and stop thinking about the worst things that could happen to the three of them. maybe she was overthinking this, maybe marissa and cleo are right. "it's going to be alright. i apologize for....worrying too much." she looks down at their hands, taking a deep sigh once more. "it just frightens me that he might be planning something big, i....i really did cause a big damage on his crew." she couldn't find the right way on how to elaborate this to marissa, how.....she's taken lives of people who were part of lauren's death. "i hope so, riss. i really do hope so." she glances at the younger blonde who stood by the desk, noticing her groan. "i could call my chauffeur, if that's okay?" before cleo could even respond, she takes her phone out of her purse, slowly getting back to the quiet, calmer nicola the everyone knew. she talks to her driver and tells him they need to be picked up as soon as possible. she could sense that there's this tension in the room that she couldn't quite put her finger on. she plants a soft kiss on top of marissa's head before walking up to cleo. "is everything alright?"

MARISSA

Marissa glanced up as Cleo stood up and walked over to her desk, her eyes lingering on the other blonde for a moment before coming back to Nicola. It was clear that Marissa wasn't exactly complete in the room, or the moment. "You don't need to apologize," she forced a smile as she squeezed Nicola's hand in an attempt to reassure her somewhat. "Keep his daughter close though," she said, a strange and ominous seriousness in her tone. "If anyone is going to know what's going on with him, what-- where he is... It's going to be his daughter, right?" She rose her eyebrow a little before letting go of Nic's hand as the older blonde also stood up. Marissa watched as she walked across to Cleo, but then took her eyes off the pair and poured herself another drink, picking it up and staring up into the aquarium on the wall to her left.

CLEO

"Uh- sure, yeah. I'll let my guy know." And to pay him double for this week, oops. She'd been writing her text, not expecting Nicola to join her. She was startled slightly before giving her a soft smile. "Of course," she mused, returning her eyes to her screen. She'd caught sight of Marissa, feeling her heart drop. Sending the text, she looked back at the older blonde and nodded her head over to the brunette. "Go back to her. Talk with her, drink with her, whatever. I need to take care of a few things- go be with her." Her voice was soft and she had a small smile on her face. But it was honestly a bit difficult. Kissing her cheek, she then sat behind her desk in her chair before pulling her emails up and started typing up her list to send to her PA and restaurant higher ups, needing to do something so that she wouldn't think about being the (unwanted?) third wheel in the room. She couldn't keep watching them as if she was an audience member nor could she try to share a moment with Nicola and potentially exclude Marissa. She couldn't do that, nor did she want to.

NICOLA

"i'll try to keep contact with her, though....i don't know how to even approach her after what happened. but you do have a point. let's just hope that if ever something comes up," which she certainly hopes not, "she'll tell me." nicola had this feeling from both women, which is now stronger with cleo this time. she doesn't quite understand why she was being pushed away. she knew the younger blonde too well beneath that smile. though, she complied to her request to join marissa back there. this may sound selfish of her, but she wanted to have the two of them close, not like this. she returns to her previous place, and takes the gallery owner's hand in hers, as she took a look at what she was staring. "where did you just go, riss?," she glances at the other with concern in her eyes while she took her hand back in hers. "you can tell me anything, alright?"

MARISSA

Marissa hadn't even noticed that Nicola had come back across the room until the older blonde took one of her hands from around the glass and placed it in hers. She had never been the type of person to deal with her own emotions particularly openly. Marissa was the suffer alone in silence with a bottle of Jack Daniels in the dark until the emotions pass the point of being able to supress them down type. It wasn't healthy but... It was all she'd ever known. It worked... Briefly. She comes back to the room with a sigh, shaking her head a little bit as she glanced to Nicola. "I thought I-- I saw someone that I knew earlier," she muttered. "It's just been on my mind since..." Marissa swallowed before smiling at Nic as best she could. "I'm okay though... Just-- worried about you too..."

CLEO

She shouldn't. She really shouldn't keep glancing up at them, watching them. She really shouldn't torture herself like this. But she couldn't stop herself, glancing up and feeling her heart ache before trying to return to her task. Even after she finished the email and sent it, she just opened up her documents to a blank page and just type random words and letters. Just anything to make it seem that she was busy. But at this moment, she doubted that they noticed. A part of her bet that she could leave the room and neither of them would notice. She just... didn't get it. Earlier in the bar, there had been something there. A sort of connection, as if the three of them being together felt... right. But afterwards when Marissa left them to get a drink, there'd been a sudden change. Then just a few moments before as she and the brunette worked together to help calm down Nicola, it'd been there again. That connection. Then it just disappeared all over again. She sat back in her seat, staring down at the phone in her hands. But there was nothing. Just a black screen. She could hear their muffled talking but couldn't make it out. She didn't like this. She didn't like feeling like this, as if she shouldn't be here in her own fucking office with the woman she lo-... with her best friend and her lover. Yet it felt exactly like that. Pressing her lips together, she finally opened her phone up to read one of her e-books and rested her head against her hand with her elbow on the arm rest. If she was going to third wheel these two, she needs to at least keep herself busy. She wasn't going to ruin their romantic moment, even though it felt as if she was suffocating.June 30, 2020

NICOLA

nicola lets go of her hand and instead, wraps an arm around marissa's shoulder, having her rest her head on the older woman's shoulder. she felt something was going on with the other, even though it's been years since they last been this close, if seems like she could still sense it whenever something's up. "i'm going to be alright, i'm going to try," she gives her shoulder a soft squeeze. "i'm not pressuring you or forcing you, but you can tell me anything. i...i'm here now. i just....i felt you slipping away from us for a bit," she lets out a deep sigh, kissing the side of her head. "i apologize for making you worry. i...i still can't believe that he survived that." she couldn't bring herself to elaborate how it all went down with alex's father back in chicago, though she knew that the way marissa reacted seeing those scars that night, the gunshot wound, she knew the other could just tell. she held her close, glancing back at cleo who seemed to be focusing too hard on what she might be doing, or pretending that she's doing something. four years is enough for her to know whenever something is bothering her, from the way she presses her lips together, or musters up a smile, she could see right through it. "cleo, can you just....not do whatever you're doing for a second and sit with us?," she says, letting the other know that this is not just a request. "my chauffeur is almost here, and i'd like to spend the rest of my time here with you two." she couldn't explain to the other why, but they both bring such distinct kinds of tranquil that doesn't clash with one another. she could just sense it, though she knew both hasn't yet, assuming from the situation that the two doesn't know each other that well yet.

MARISSA

Marissa had no idea what this was. The whole dynamic of the three of them felt foreign in so many ways and yet, in certain moments, it felt right too. Riss ran her tongue over her bottom lip as she nodded lightly, leaning in slightly to Nicola's arm. You can tell me anything. There was a time where that was true, but now? It was different talking about what had happened. It was different talking about the past... Talking about how far away from okay she was right now? That wasn't going to help anyone, not even herself. Especially not Cleo who seemed to radiate awkwardness out into the room. This wasn't the place to have a conversation about 'where'd she gone'... They were here for Nic. "I'm okay," she nodded with a forced smile, glancing to Nic and then to Cleo. Marissa could tell when someone was pretending to work. "You don't need to give us space, honey," she added to Nicola's demand. "Come have a drink..."

CLEO

Honestly? She thought she'd become invisible to them at this point. Nicola seemed so much better now than earlier, and with Marissa she seemed... she seemed happier. But whether Cleo was a part of that equation or not, it felt up to date. It felt more so like the latter. So hearing them both call out to her... It was unexpected. She glanced up from her phone to look at them, lips pressing together softly. "I... I still have some things I need to do." Getting up from her seat, she gathered the folded costume pieces and grabbed the dirty glass. She headed their way and smiled forcefully softly. "I should probably get this to the laundry room and put the glass in the kitchen. Plus, I need to check on a few other things... But I'll have my phone on me, in case you need to reach me. Please, stay here, have a few drinks, talk with each other; I'll be back in a bit." Cleo started to make her way to the door. Nicola wanting her to stay? She believes that. But Marissa hardly knows her still. And she's not going to stay where she doesn't feel like she's completely wanted. And it's true- she does need to put these things away. So an excuse, but not completely wrong.

NICOLA

she knew there's something else behind those two words, 'i'm okay', but nicola isn't going to push it. "alright, if you say so," she kisses the side of her head and squeezes her shoulder gently once more, before she starts mindlessly playing with her hair. she raised an eyebrow at cleo's words, surprised at how she's turned the both of them down at wanting to spend some time with her before her chauffeur arrives. she knew this very well, and she's not going to let the other leave the room. "cleo." she called out her name in a tone she only uses on rare occasions, in hopes of the other to snap out of whatever she's thinking. "put down those clothes. i know someone will take care of them." the younger blonde being this distant all of a sudden doesn't sit very well with her. "come back and sit with us. i'm not saying it again."

MARISSA

Marissa knocked back the rest of her drink and placed the empty glass on the side before sighing gently and falling back into the couch some more, crossing one leg over the other. As Cleo stood up from behind the desk and began to pick things up, trying to create and excuse to leave, Marissa felt her heart drop a little and a wave of guilt wash through her. She had been the one to invade their moment, not the other way around. If anyone needed to leave, it was her. But, Marissa was also fucking stubborn so, she stayed sat down. "We have two whole days before we leave for the cabin, Cleo... That stuff can sort itself," she said gently but firmly. Then, when Nicola said 'im not saying it again', Marissa couldn't help but laugh. "Careful, sounds like she's about to get the whip out.".

CLEO

Well, fuck. She stopped halfway there, closing her eyes for a moment to take a deep breath before letting it out. She didn't want to stay in a place where she felt as if her presence wasn't wanted or needed. She didn't want to keep being a gnat that's annoying the other two. Gods, she hated feeling this way. She has never felt this way before and it was the complete opposite of who she usually was. But with that tone in Nicola's voice, she knew that she'd be in some kind of trouble. Setting the costumes and dirty glass down on a counter near the door, she grabbed one of her bottles of rum before turning around and taking a seat. Yet, she kept some distance as she leaned back into her couch, uncapping her rum and taking a huge swig of it. Fine, maybe she can deal with being the third wheel with a drink.

NICOLA

nicola couldn't help but glance at marissa's words, shaking her head. "babe....," she sighs, not really liking the awkwardness between the three of them right now. where was this atmosphere that they shared moments ago at the dive bar and when the brunette got here? it saddens her at how cleo just suddenly got distant. she moves a little bit closer to the younger blonde, concern evident on her face. "cleo, come on....," she takes another deep sigh. "i just....i want us to be okay. and we're about to spend the next couple of days with dela. i....if you changed your mind about it, you can just tell me." she takes her glass from the table and takes a long sip of her drink, hoping the heavy pang in her chest just goes away with it. not a minute longer her phone buzzed, signaling that her driver is there. "i can just head home. i'll sort this out. i apologize for....barging in here and--" she straightens her blazer up and stands up from the couch. "maybe i'll think about montauk."

MARISSA

Marissa honestly had no idea what she was doing here anymore, what was even supposed to be happening? Cleo came back, silently grabbing a bottle and drinking from it. There was clearly something going on between Cleo and Nic, that was evident from what she had walked into in the dive bar... And once again, it had been Marissa walking in again... Marissa had been the one on both occasions to walk in on these two women, and on both occasions been the one to make things awkward. Perhaps she should have just gone home, perhaps agreeing to go on this vacation was only going to make things worse. It was much easier to feel lonely when you were alone. Feeling lonely when you were surrounded by people... That was a raw pain, one that was seeping through into her right now. "You know what?" She said as she stood up and brushed her coat down. "I don't know what you were expecting from-- from all of this," Riss spoke to Nic as she gestured to the three of them. "But you two were here first, and in the dive bar... Clearly-- y'all have something you need to talk about, discuss, whatever," she shrugged her shoulders a little and shook her head. "I'm walking home... I doubt I'd make good company tonight anyway," Riss flicked her hair back a little. "Stay." She told Nicola before looking down to Cleo. "I didn't mean to interrupt," Riss softly smiled before glancing back at Nicola and then turning to walk out.

CLEO

What the fuck. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuuuuuuuuuuuck? Cleo had no idea what was going on now, what kind of mess she felt she created. But seeing the both of them upset now... Gods, she felt guilty. They were both standing... Marissa was leaving... Was Nicola going to leave her, too? Was she not going to be at Cleo's penthouse later? Fuck, were they both not going to go to Montauk with her and Cordelia? No. No, she was not going to allow this. She created this mess and gods dammit, she's going to clean it. "No," she finally said, setting her bottle down on the table and quickly getting up. She quickly made her way to Marissa, taking her by the hand and intertwining her fingers. "You are not going to leave," she told her, looking back at Nicola. "Neither are you. The both of you are not going to be leaving unless the three of us are all leaving together." Looking at the brunette again, she tried to calm herself. "I am not going to sit around and be a third wheel for you two. Nor am I going to allow you to feel like that either. I don't... I don't know how to go about this. And we don't know each other still. There's so much that we need to talk and work on- but dammit, we need to work on that together. The three of us." Looking back at Nic, she held her hand out to her. "I'm sorry," she mused softly, those words... Those words being something she didn't take lightly. She never apologized unless she fully and truly meant it. And she knows that the older blonde knows that. "I'm sorry for making things awkward. I don't... I don't know how to act in this sort of situation. But I really, really don't want either of you to leave. I want you both to come home with me tonight. I want the both of you to come to Montauk with me and my daughter. I don't want to watch either of you leave. If there's any leaving involve, I want it to be us three together and back home. And I don't... I don't want to risk losing out on something that could be great. So... Please. Please don't leave, the both of you. I want to make things right and I'm sorry for acting like that. I'm sorry for creating an awkward space between us. Please... Let's go home, the three of us together, and let me make things right. A chance. That's all I ask of you two."

NICOLA

nicola just stood there and watched things progress in front of her. her phone started buzzing again, and she picks it up. "give me five minutes." she hangs it up quickly, putting it back in her purse. she doesn't know how to deal with this either, but huge part of her wants this to work, she wants things to work between her, marissa and cleo. both women are important to her life and she just couldn't risk one of them. she figured, maybe it's a shock for both, or maybe they're unaware of what to do, or how to deal with this, them three being together. and hearing cleo say 'i'm sorry'....that was something that only happens once in a blue moon, and her saying it now.....this must be really important to her too. she takes marissa's hand this time and looks at her in the eyes, pleading for her to stay. it wasn't just because she wanted to make sure she's always safe, that she wants to looks after her and cleo, but she needs them both, she needs them and cordelia, to be away from the world and its prying eyes for a while. "the chauffeur is waiting outside," she looks at the two. "i just want to be able to be out of this place for a while, to have you two with me. that's all i'm asking."

MARISSA

As Cleo took hold of her hand, Marissa closed her eyes for a moment and took in a long breath. "The three of us?" She asked, finally turning back around and looking between the two women. "What--" she paused, not wanting to talk out of pure emotion... Not wanting to cause anymore pain tonight. "What exactly is-- this?" Marissa was not the type of person to half-step into things, she was all in or all out. Full feelings, or none at all. Flirting around the idea of love with Nicola had been scary enough and now... Cleo? Both of them seemed to be on the same page, they both seemed to know what they wanted out of this, but Marissa? She was scared. Letting two people in meant giving two people the power to leave... Because, everyone does in the end, don't they? "You-- you have nothing to be sorry for Cleo," she breathed out with a small sigh, looking at the younger blonde. God, it felt like she hadn't even had a drink, a wicked sobriety filling her up. "Fine-- fine..." She succeeded to the other two women's pleas but took her own hands back and ran one down her face. "It's been a long night... Let's just go..."

CLEO

Once again, she was holding her breath. But this time, the release was... hopeful. Them both hearing her pleas and deciding to stay... that was huge. And she smiled up at them warmly, eyes flitting from one woman to the other. "We can figure that out? We can at least try. Because... back in the bar... and when you got here... there was something there. And I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who felt that. I want to give it, this, a chance. Find out exactly what this is." If she was right... Then she was pretty sure she had an idea of what this was. Or at least, what this could be. And she wanted to give it a try. Cleo smiled softly at her words, gently reaching up to tuck some of Riss's hair behind her ear. "I don't... I don't use those words a lot. Not unless I mean it," she promised. Promises and apologies were huge for her. She doesn't take them so lightly. The younger blonde nodded, smiling at both women. "Let's head home."

NICOLA

this is a big deal for nicola, she isn't sure what it is that she shares with marissa and cleo, yet something tell her to take a dive in it. there could be a reason why she and marissa are back in each other's lives again, and cleo has been there through the hard times. she used to not believe in fate or destiny, this is something lauren strongly believes in when she was still alive, perhaps she's got a point. maybe.....this is her telling nicola something, why she's put in the lives of these two incredible women. 'i trust you with this, lo,' she thought to herself. she looks at the two women in front of her before leading them out of cleo's office. this is going to be an interesting next couple of days.

#c; cleo #c; nicola #three's company?#discord para #p; threes company?

4 notes · View notes

arcticdementor · 4 years

Link

Something strange happened to the news over the past four years. The dominant stories all resembled the scripts of bad movies—sequels and reboots. The Kavanaugh hearings were a sequel to the Clarence Thomas hearings, and Russian collusion was rebooted as Ukrainian impeachment. Journalists are supposed to hunt for good scoops, but in January, as the coronavirus spread, they focused on the impeachment reality show instead of a real story.

It’s not just journalists. The so-called second golden era of television was a decade ago, and many of those shows relied on cliff-hangers and gratuitous nudity to hold audience attention. Across TV, movies, and novels it is increasingly difficult to find a compelling story that doesn’t rely on gimmicks. Even foundational stories like liberalism, equality, and meritocracy are failing; the resulting woke phenomenon is the greatest shark jump in history.

Storytelling is central to any civilization, so its sudden failure across society should set off alarm bells. Culture inevitably reflects the selection process that sorts people into the upper class, and today’s insipid stories suggest a profound failure of this sorting mechanism.

…

Culture is larger than pop culture, or even just art. It encompasses class, architecture, cuisine, education, manners, philosophy, politics, religion, and more. T. S. Eliot charted the vastness of this word in his Notes towards the Definition of Culture, and he warned that technocratic rule narrowed our view of culture. Eliot insisted that it’s impossible to easily define such a broad concept, yet smack in the middle of the book he slips in a succinct explanation: “Culture may even be described simply as that which makes life worth living.” This highlights why the increase in “deaths of despair” is such a strong condemnation of our dysfunction. In a fundamental way, our culture only exists to serve a certain class. Eliot predicted this when he critiqued elites selected through education: “Any educational system aiming at a complete adjustment between education and society will tend to restrict education to what will lead to success in the world, and to restrict success in the world to those persons who have been good pupils of the system.”

This professional managerial class has a distinct culture that often sets the tone for all of American culture. It may be possible to separate the professional managerial class from the ruling elite, or plutocracy, but there is no cultural distinction. Any commentary on an entire class will stumble in the way all generalizations stumble, yet this culture is most distinct at the highest tiers, and the fuzzy edges often emulate those on the top. At its broadest, these are college-educated, white-collar workers whose income comes from labor, who are huddled in America’s cities, and who rise to power through existing bureaucracies. Bureaucracies, whether corporate or government, are systems that reward specific traits, and so the culture of this class coalesces towards an archetype: the striving bureaucrat, whose values are defined by the skills needed to maneuver through a bureaucracy. And from the very beginning, the striving bureaucrat succeeds precisely by disregarding good storytelling.

…

Professionals today would never self-identify as bureaucrats. Product managers at Google might have sleeve tattoos or purple hair. They might describe themselves as “creators” or “creatives.” They might characterize their hobbies as entrepreneurial “side hustles.” But their actual day-in, day-out work involves the coordination of various teams and resources across a large organization based on established administrative procedures. That’s a bureaucrat. The entire professional culture is almost an attempt to invert the connotations and expectations of the word—which is what underlies this class’s tension with storytelling. Conformity is draped in the dead symbols of a prior generation’s counterculture.

…

When high school students read novels, they are asked to identify the theme, or moral, of a story. This teaches them to view texts through an instrumental lens. Novelist Robert Olen Butler wrote that we treat artists like idiot savants who “really want to say abstract, theoretical, philosophical things, but somehow they can’t quite make themselves do it.” The purpose of a story becomes the process of translating it into ideas or analysis. This is instrumental reading. F. Scott Fitzgerald spent years meticulously outlining and structuring numerous rewrites of The Great Gatsby, but every year high school students reduce the book to a bumper sticker on the American dream. A story is an experience in and of itself. When you abstract a message, you lose part of that experience. Analysis is not inherently bad; it’s just an ancillary mode that should not define the reader’s disposition.

Propaganda is ubiquitous because we’ve been taught to view it as the final purpose of art. Instrumental reading also causes people to assume overly abstract or obscure works are inherently profound. When the reader’s job is to decode meaning, then the storyteller is judged by the difficulty of that process. It’s a novel about a corn beef sandwich who sings the Book of Malachi. Ah yes, a profound critique of late capitalism. An artist! Overall, instrumental reading teaches striving students to disregard stories. Cut to the chase, and give us the message. Diversity is our strength? Got it. Throw the book out. This reductionist view perhaps makes it difficult for people to see how incoherent the higher education experience has become.

…

“Decadence” sounds incorrect since the word elicits extravagant and glamorous vices, while we have Lizzo—an obese antifertility priestess for affluent women. All our decadence becomes boring, cringe-inducing, and filled with HR-approved jargon. “For my Fulbright, I studied conflict resolution in nonmonogamous throuples.” Campus dynamics may partially explain this phenomenon. Camille Paglia has argued that many of the brightest left-wing thinkers in the 1960s fried their brains with too much LSD, and this created an opportunity for the rise of corporate academics who never participated in the ’60s but used its values to signal status. What if this dropout process repeats every generation?

…

The professional class tells a variety of genre stories about their jobs: TED Talker, “entrepreneur,” “innovator,” “doing well by doing good.” One of the most popular today is corporate feminism. This familiar story is about a young woman who lands a prestigious job in Manhattan, where she guns for the corner office while also fulfilling her trendy Sex and the City dreams. Her day-in, day-out life is blessed by the mothers and grandmothers who fought for equality—with the ghost of Susan B. Anthony lingering Mufasa-like over America’s cubicles. Yet, like other corporate genre stories, girl-boss feminism is a celebration of bureaucratic life, including its hierarchy. Isn’t that weird?

There are few positive literary representations of life in corporate America. The common story holds that bureaucratic life is soul-crushing. At its worst, this indulges in a pedestrian Romanticism where reality is measured against a daydream, and, as Irving Babbitt warned, “in comparison . . . actual life seems a hard and cramping routine.” Drudgery is constitutive of the human condition. Yet even while admitting that toil is inescapable, it is still obvious that most white-collar work today is particularly bleak and meaningless. Office life increasingly resembles a mental factory line. The podcast is just talk radio for white-collar workers, and its popularity is evidence of how mind-numbing work has become for most.

Forty years ago, Christopher Lasch wrote that “modern industry condemns people to jobs that insult their intelligence,” and today employers rub this insult in workers’ faces with a hideously infantilizing work culture that turns the office into a permanent kindergarten classroom. Blue-chip companies reward their employees with balloons, stuffed animals, and gold stars, and an exposé detailing the stringent communication rules of the luxury brand Away Luggage revealed how many start-ups are just “live, laugh, love” sweatshops. This humiliating culture dominates America’s companies because few engage in truly productive or necessary work. Professional genre fiction, such as corporate feminism, is thus often told as a way to cope with the underwhelming reality of working a job that doesn’t contribute anything to the world.

There is another way to tell the story of the young career woman, however. Her commute includes inspiring podcasts about Ugandan entrepreneurs, but also a subway stranger breathing an egg sandwich into her face. Her job title is “Senior Analyst—Global Trends,” but her job is just copying and pasting between spreadsheets for ten hours. Despite all the “doing well by doing good” seminars, the closest thing she knows to a community is spin class, where a hundred similar women, and one intense man in sports goggles, listen to a spaz scream Hallmark card affirmations.

…

The bureaucrat even describes the process of rising through fraudulence as “playing the game.” The book The Organization Man criticized professionals in the 1950s for confusing their own interests with those of their employers, imagining, for example, that moving across the country was good for them simply because they were transferred. “Playing the game” is almost like an overlay on top of this attitude. The idea is that personal ambition puts the bureaucrat in charge. Bureaucrats always feel that they are “in on the game,” and so develop a false sense of certainty about the world, which sorts them into two groups: the cynics and the neurotics. Cynics recognize the nonsense, but think it’s necessary for power. The neurotics, by contrast, are earnest go-getters who confuse the nonsense with actual work. They begin to feel like they’re the only ones faking it and become so insecure they have to binge-watch TED Talks on “imposter syndrome.”

These two dispositions help explain why journalists focus on things like impeachment rather than medical supply chains. One group cynically condescends to American intelligence, while neurotics shriek about the “norms of our democracy.” Both are undergirded by a false certainty about what’s possible. Professional elites vastly overestimate their own intelligence in comparison with the average American, and today there is nothing so common as being an elitist. Meanwhile, public discourse gets dumber and dumber as elitists spend all their time explaining hastily memorized Wikipedia entries to those they deem rubes.

…

The entire phenomenon of the nonconformist bureaucrat can be seen as genre inversion. Everyone today grew up with pop culture stories about evil corporations and corporate America’s soul-sucking culture, and so the “creatives” have fashioned a self-image defined against this genre. These stories have been internalized and inverted by corporate America itself, so now corporate America has mandatory fun events and mandatory displays of creativity.

In other words, past countercultures have been absorbed into corporate America’s conception of itself. David Solomon isn’t your father’s stuffy investment banker. He’s a DJ! And Goldman Sachs isn’t like the stuffy corporations you heard about growing up. They fly a transgender flag outside their headquarters, list sex-change transitions as a benefit on their career site, and refuse to underwrite an IPO if the company is run by white men. This isn’t just posturing. Wokeness is a cult of power that maintains its authority by pretending it’s perpetually marching against authority. As long it does so, its sectaries can avoid acknowledging how they strengthen managerial America’s stranglehold on life by empowering administrators to enforce ever-expanding bureaucratic technicalities.

…

Moreover, it is shocking that no one in the 2020 campaign seems to have reacted to the dramatic change that happened in 2016. Good storytellers are attuned to audience sophistication, and must understand when audiences have grown past their techniques. Everyone has seen hundreds of movies, and read hundreds of books, and so we intuitively understand the shape of a good story. Once audiences can recognize a storytelling technique as a technique, it ceases to function because it draws attention to the artifice. This creates distance between the intended emotion and the audience reaction. For instance, a romantic comedy follows a couple as they fall in love and come together, and so the act two low point will often see the couple breaking up over miscommunication. Audiences recognize this as a technique, and so, even though miscommunication often causes fights, it seems fake.

Similarly, today’s voters are sophisticated enough to recognize the standard political techniques, and so their reactions are no longer easily predictable. Voters intuitively recognize that candidate “debates” are just media events, and prewritten zingers do not help politicians when everyone recognizes them as prewritten. The literary critic Wayne Booth wrote that “the hack is, by definition, the man who asks for responses he cannot himself respect,” and our politicians are always asking us to buy into nonsense that they couldn’t possibly believe. Inane political tropes operate just like inane business jargon and continue because everyone thinks they’re on the inside, and this blinds them to obvious developments in how audiences of voters relate to political tropes. Trump often plays in this neglected space.

The artistic development of the sitcom can be seen as the process of incorporating its own artifice into the story. There is a direct creative lineage from The Dick Van Dyke Show, a sitcom about television comedy writers, to The Office, a show about office workers being filmed for television. Similarly, Trump often succeeds because he incorporates the artifice of political tropes. When Trump points out that the debate audiences are all donors, or that Nancy Pelosi doesn’t actually pray for him, he’s just pointing out what everyone already knows. This makes it difficult for other politicians to “play the game,” because their standard tropes reinforce Trump’s message. If the debates are just media spectacle events for donors, then applause lines work against you. It’s similar to breaking the fourth wall, while the rest of the cast nervously tries to continue with their lines. Trump’s success is evidence that the television era of political theater is ending, because its storytelling formats are dead.

In fact, the (often legitimate) criticism that Trump does not act “presidential” is the same as saying that he’s not acting professional—that he is ignoring the rules of bureaucratic advancement. Could you imagine Trump’s year-end review? “In 2020, we invite Donald to stop sending Outlook reminders that just say ‘get schlonged.’” Trump’s antics are indicative of his different route to power. Forget everything else about him: how would you act if you never had a job outside a company with your name on the building? The world of the professional managerial class doesn’t contain many characters, and so they associate eccentricity with bohemianism or ineptitude. But it’s also reliably found somewhere else.

Small business owners are often loons, wackos, and general nutjobs. Unlike the professional class, their personalities vary because their job isn’t dependent on how others view them. Even when they’re wealthy or successful, they often don’t act “professional.” It requires tremendous grit and courage to own a business. They are perhaps the only people today who embody what Pericles meant when he said that the “secret to freedom is courage.” In the wake of coronavirus, small businesses owners stoically shuttered their stores and faced financial ruin, while politicians with camera-ready personas and ratlike souls tried to increase seasonal worker visas.

…

Ever since Star Wars, screenwriters have used Joseph Campbell’s monomyth to measure a successful story, and an essential act one feature is the refusal of adventure. For a moment, the universe opens up and shows the hero an unknown world of possibility, but the hero backs away. For four years, our nation has refused adventure, yet fate cannot be ignored. The coronavirus forces our nation to confront adventure. With eerie precision, this global plague tore down the false stories that veiled our true situation. The experts are incompetent. The institutions told us we were racist for caring about the virus, and then called for arresting paddleboarders in the middle of the ocean. Our business regulations make it difficult to create face masks in a crisis, while rewarding those who outsource the manufacturing of lifesaving drugs to our rival. The new civic religion of wokeness is a dangerous antihuman cult that distorts priorities. Even our Hollywood stars turn out to be ugly without makeup.

#james mcelroy #american affairs #read the whole thing

5 notes · View notes

gabor-erdos · 4 years

Photo

Title: One Year Later...

Location: Tulach Island Date: 8/1/2020 Trigger Warnings: Mentions of sex, Mentions of death... Mentions: Luka Rossi, Demi Collins, & The Erdös Family. Headcanon Summary: A life of a pirate is never predictable, however the Hungarian pirate had once believed he had it all planned out perfectly. Serving Roman Tulach...eventually Miles Tulach, a few years later he’d return home again - start his own farming land while still being on the Tulachs’ beck and call. While still being by himself. He didn’t need love, why need something you never actually believed in in the first place? However, that all those plans changed when one prince came into his life. Crashing down his walls before Gabe could notice it and build them back up. A prince of all people beat an untouchable man’s wall. Who would have thought?

27 and yet the Hungarian pirate was still a naive bastard. Though he knew it all, had his life mapped out and there was nothing and no one that could change that. That plan seemed to completely change the moment he stepped on the sandy beach of Isle D’Alessio.

The Tulachs were infamous pirates and even though he doesn’t know the exact reasons they went from sailing one moment to kidnapping the royals and living on one the Tulach’s island...was beyond him. But he was only a mate...to question BT’s First mate or even Roman Tulach himself, well, it was a quick way of getting your head chopped off. Do as you are told and you don’t get hurt, won’t. Besides what should he care so much about the royals anyhow? He’s already done so, so much worse than just simple kidnap. Once things were settled with his orders from Roman and the first mate, Gabor set off to capture his own royal...bringing them to Isle D’Alessio. It seemed as if it was going to be nothing but a simple vacation. Besides the royals were stuck on the island with no ways of escape and being surrounded by attractive people, both royals and pirates alike. No, what could go wrong?

At first, things seemed to be going fairly well, sleeping with a few people that caught his eye..however, things really began to change when he crossed the path of Italy’s crowned Prince, Luka Rossi. Of course, he never thought much of it - just a casual skinny dip in the ocean between the two. Gabor wasn’t blind the Italian was fucking hot, stripping down into nothing he knew it would lead to something more than swimming, maybe the prince knew the same thing. Either way, they did in fact strip down and went for a swim. The inevitable happened, it started off as a kiss but it seemed as if both men where perhaps a little too eager to feel more than just the water hitting their bodies, but would much prefer skin to skin contact. Heading towards one of the cabanas it wasn’t long till the Italian and Hungarian locked lips and locked their lips on other parts of each other’s bodies. Oh, he likes him. Gabe could easily see them going into a routine of a causal fling. However, the more time they spent - the more the pirate wanted to know of the royal...the more he needed him in his bed. What he thought was just going to be a fling...just a casual fuck - easily turned into something...more, but he didn’t know what exactly that was. Least not until just before Christmas, Luka was in Gabe’s bed, they were cuddled up after one of their many mind-blowing hookups though the prince asked him for something real.

“For years I’ve mastered the art in pushing people away. Then you came along and ruined that for me in the few weeks of knowing you.” He told Luka. “All I wanted was to grow close to you, to be someone you look to in more than just someone who can show you a good time. I know I can’t ask for all of your trust but trust me I’m working on being more transparent with you. ... I’m falling madly in love with you. That’s real.”

And it is, that’s what scared him the most - for he waited till Luka fell into a deep sleep and was careful to not wake him as he gets off the bed and packed up his things. He couldn’t be falling for a prince...or any royal. It was just starting a disaster that didn’t need to be started in the first freaking place. Which is why he left, no word - no trace. He simply just vanished back home to Hungary. Back home to his family who he has abandoned for 7 years. He needed to get over Luka, and he needed fast. What better way to do so than to spend sometime around family? Even talking to his brother about Luka, he knew he wouldn’t be able to get over him so easily, thus, what better way to forget about one person than to simply just get under someone else. That was how the saying went right? Well, Gabe was eager to try it out. With both women and men. and even though at the moment he was able to actually forget about the prince that haunted his mind in the moment - Luka Rossi reappeared just as soon as it was done.

However, one thing did work...

It was an old tradition with the Erdös siblings. Every morning, just before sunrise, they would ride their houses out to the mountain’s peak and watch the sunrise with all three of them. The only difference of that now - one sibling...the most important one wasn’t there, but she was the main topic of Gabe’s younger brother speech. They had cremated Xena, turned her ashes into a dark forest green gem and placed it in the middle of pure silver locket necklace. Inside of the locket is a photo of his parents, him and his siblings on the left and just a photo of Xena on the right. They had made one for him, knowing one day he would return home to them. Given the necklace his selfish thoughts went away, they only thought of her...only thought of his family. Gabor stayed on the farm in Hungary for a little while longer, however, he still had a duty...a responsibility to Roman Tulach. Which is why within a few more weeks of helping out, he had to leave back to the island. Well, to Tulach Island now. But he left with the necklace around his neck and a promise to his family that he will stay in contact.

Going back to a trapped life on an island with pirates and royals - he had to admit, he was excited to go back. Even though he knew Luka Rossi was going to still be there, he believed that those deep feelings that were starting to grow all completely went away. Oh, how very wrong he was!

When he came back, he came back to one of the Tulach’s infamous parties and he was reunited with old friends, Roza Hathlicov and Thierry Beliveau being the main couple of two. Though as his eyes landed on non-other than the damn Italian Prince locking lips with someone he once hooked up with...a fellow shipmate, he couldn’t help but for the feelings for him to come crashing...hurling back along with the angered jealousy that was starting to fill his veins. Not able to stand the sight any longer he turned and made his way back to his new villa. In need to get rid of the sight...rid of the fucking feelings he believed he got rid of. Though, Luka had seen him and chased after him.

As they, argued with one another Gabe couldn’t hold back any longer, no, at this point he just allowed himself to...feel whatever it was he was supposed to feel for him. Thus, he kissed the prince...in a heated passion he pinned his royal against a tree and wanted to treat his mind of the one thing...one person he robbed himself of. But the fucked up part...he had only then found out that Luka was already spoken for by Demi Collins, the Cabin Boy that he once hooked up with, but, was more than willing to open their relationship to Gabe. To be in a...throuple with Demi and Luka. A man who never wanted to admit his feelings for Luka in the first place...was now given the option to join in on a committed relationship of more than just a few years. At first, he was preparing himself to let him go completely. When push came to shove, he just couldn’t bring himself to let him go, thus, he agreed. If it was something both Luka and Demi wanted then it’s something that he will try to make work.

No, Gabe never believed that a year from the day he stepped foot on the sand beach of one of Tulach’s Islands that he would now be in a rather committed relationship with Demi Collins and Luka Rossi. It was funny how things really played out in life. Only in a span of a year, he was able to find love, and with the help of both men, he was a completely changed man. Sure, he was always protective and a teddy bear inside but his inner self was becoming more and more of his outer-self. With both men, he could actually see a future for himself but now he knows better. Whatever the future does have in store for him...for all three of them he will gladly accept all of it if it meant he got to keep both men in his life. For he was falling madly in love with both Demi and Luka.

Story Mentions: @luka-rossi | @demi-collins

#pulling the sails up // ❮ headcanon ❯#lukarossi #demicollins

2 notes · View notes

aaronhart93-archive · 4 years

Text

Discord II Broken Glass

Discord thread featuring: Aaron and @wtf-eden

Mentions: @romanbeckett @davieslandon @jayceelynd

Where: Aaron’s penthouse

When: a couple days after the Pride party at Throuple

Description: Aaron tells Eden that he is in love with Roman

Trigger Warnings: blood/injury

Aaron:

Aaron walked into his room from the kitchen where he grabbed the pair a bottle of wine and two crystal wine glasses. Aaron only kept the best china around. He smiled when he entered his room and looked over at Eden. He was genuinely happy she was here. The businessman had text her to come over and Eden appeared at his door in no time. It was so simple with her. She made things easy. She wanted to be with him and he wanted to be with her. Not only that, but he wasn’t hurting anyone else when they were together, and they could be happy without causing anyone else pain. They were just Aaron and Eden. Aaron down leaned and kissed her on the shoulder. He had a lot to talk to her about, but he needed a glass of wine first. He walked to his nightstand to open the bottle and pour them each a glass. Handing it to her, he took a deep breathe. “Thanks for leaving so soon the other day. It was important for me to go sort things out with Landon. You’re honestly incredible for understanding.” He said, a light smile appearing across his face.

Eden:

Eden had made her way to Aaron’s home in lightning speed when he texted her. It wasn’t that she didn’t like being at her own home, but she did prefer to be at his house more. Not only was he there but everything at his house was nicer. A bit cozier. Now, Eden sat in his bed, scrolling through her Instagram when he had went out to the kitchen. At his return, she dropped her phone down into his lap to give him her attention. “It was no trouble,” she promised. “I had to run some errands anyways. Like grocery shopping.” She said rolling her eyes as she took her glass from him. She sipped from it quickly, “So? Did you get it all sorted out with him?”June 8, 2020

Aaron:

He was sat down on his bed, cross cross applesauce and was turned to face Eden. “Grocery shopping?” Aaron raised his brow. He’d had almost always had his groceries delivered to him unless he was making a last minute trip. His two exes had both been more or less middle class and he had went with them before, which was one of the many times that Aaron’s privilege hit him hard in the face. He clearly did a lot of growing from his adolescent years. “Trader Joe’s or Whole Foods?” He asked like it was the most important question in the world. He huffed and ran his hand through his lock. “No..well... things are still uncertain with us.” He took a very long chug of his wine, knowing she was about to ask him the details of his fight with Landon. Cmon Aaron. You can do this.

Eden:

Eden laughed, sitting up a bit more, and pulled her own legs in to sit criss cross as she looked at her — partner? They weren’t labeling it boyfriend and girlfriend, but Eden had no idea what she was supposed to call it if people asked. “Yeah, grocery shopping. One of the worst adult things to do. I hate it.” She said with a laugh. Of course, like anyone, Eden loved the feeling after grocery shopping when her house was full of fresh ingredients, but didn’t like going to the store or unloading it into her pantry. “I’m more of a Trader Joe’s girl. Hope that doesn’t turn you off too much.” She joked, pushing his shoulder lightly. She tilted her head towards him, “Well, what’s going on with the two of you? What was the fight about anyways?” She questioned, as she brought her wine glass to her lips once again.

Aaron:

“I can respect it.” He mused. “I get mine from Whole Foods. I could always have my guys deliver you groceries if you actually hate going grocery shopping.” Aaron loved buying pretty people expensive things. He was the stereotypical wealthy man when it came to that. Aaron took another swig if the wine he poured for himself. It was nearly game already. He would most likely also need to address his budding alcoholism with Eden too, but he knew that that conversation would be far easier than this one he was about to have. Mostly because all of this was entirely his fault. He should have backed off of Roman the minute he found out about his relationship to Jaycee and Landon. He’d hurt them and now he was about to hurt Eden. But he couldn’t not tell her. She’d find out anyway, and he was done keeping secrets from people like a coward. He drank from the wine glass again, this time finishing the drink completely. “Well, you remember that other person I told you I liked? It’s Landon’s ex. Considering landon and I are best friends, it’s been causing some issues between us.” He scratched his head, unsure of what to say next. Even though I told him i was exclusive with you and that I’m not pursuing things with him.” Yes, he just used that pronoun. “So now I’m just really unsure about mine relationship with Landon.”

Eden:

The girl let out a soft laugh, "I don't mind Whole Foods, I just prefer Trader Joes." She admitted. There was nothing wrong with going grocery shopping, but the hassle of doing so was a pain. Of course Eden could probably hire Instacart or some sort of app like that to do it for her, but it hadn't ever crossed her mind to do so. "You get groceries delivered to you? Wow, what a rich boy thing." Eden teased, taking another sip from her wine glass. "But, I might take you up on that offer next time I need groceries." Eden wasn't sure what Aaron had been fighting about his friend with, and she wasn't sure what the next words to come out of Aaron's mouth would be. "Ah, I see. Sounds very much like girl troubles." Eden teased, knowing it was usually girls who got defensive over their exes dating their friends. "Him? This other person is a him?" She didn't know the boy was bisexual, and she didn't have any problems with it, it had just surprised her. She herself had slept with people of the same sex before, but never had developed feelings for them. "So why is Landon making it such a big deal if he knows you aren't persuing it with this guy?"

Aaron:

Aaron nodded, and tried to keep himself from smiling like an idiot. "It is a rich boy thing. Maybe you can take me grocery shopping one day and show me what it's like on the wild side." he joked. "Anytime, just let me know and I'll send my guy." Aaron had a guy for just about everything. That was also a rich boy thing. girl troubles. Aaron had to keep himself from laughing. "Yeah." Aaron nodded. 'Coming out' was something that Aaron never thought he would have to do, even though he knew nobody would care. He didn't believe that people needed to come out of the closet anymore because he didn't believe there needed to be one. It was 2020. Truthfully, the businessman didn't really think twice about falling for Roman; he didn't care. He always knew sexuality was fluid and didn't care to label himself at all. "Yes." he nodded, sternly. "He's a he. And I'm sharing this with you because I wanted to keep whatever this is between us open and honest. I'd hate to have you find out through some third party." he took a deep breathe as his heart hit his stomach. "He's mad because it's more than just liking this man for me. I'm in love with him...and well, he's in love with me. Landon's mad because we didn't step away from it a long time ago..." he reached for the bottle and poured the rest of it in his glass. He was so afraid of what she was going to say.

Eden:

Eden grinned, "I don't know, rich boy. It sounds like you might not be able to handle grocery shopping. It is a lot of work, especially for your rich boy hands." One of the things Eden knew about Aaron was that he had money, and he wasn't afraid to flaunt it. Part of her wanted to see how he'd survive if all of his money was taken away for a day. She was sure he wouldn't make it two hours. It didn't upset Eden that this other person was a guy, honestly, she could care less about what Aaron's sexuality was. She wasn't even sure of her own sexuality, and that was okay. Eden nodded slowly as he spoke. She was glad that he was being honest and open, because if whatever this was they had between them was going to work, it was going to need to be honest and open. The two of them didn't have a healthy relationship past, and if this - not relationship, relationship - was going to work, they needed to be able to tell each other things. "Thank you for being honest." She told him, tilting her head just slightly as he spoke. Suddenly, Eden could feel her blood boil. He said on the roof just days prior, that he had feelings for another person, there was nothing about the forbidden l word mentioned. He - like her - wasn't much for relationships and feelings, or so she thought. But clearly she had been wrong about that. How could he not do feelings, yet become exclusive with her while being in love with someone else. She didn't want to be angry, really. He had warned her on the roof top about things that might happen when she decided to become exclusive with him, and she had made her choice. At this moment in time though, she was afraid she had made the wrong choice. "Love?" She said, barely audible. Her head couldn't wrap around the information that was laid out in front of her. She tried to remain calm, but felt herself squeezing the wine glass in her hand, but she couldn't get herself to stop. She was angry, there was no denying that feeling. "I get why he's pissed off." She muttered. Suddenly, the wine glass in her hand broke to pieces. Had she really been squeezing it that hard? She must have been. Eden had been trying to control her voice, that she had lost control of her hand, and now there were broken pieces of glass and drops of wine on Aaron's bed. A bed that probably cost more than her home. "Shit - I'm sorry." Eden stood up from the bed, ignoring that her hand had been bleeding just a bit from what had just occurred. "So - you're in love with this guy -- but you're exclusive with me? What am I to you?" She questioned as she paced along the bedroom floor, doing everything she could to avoid looking in his direction. "Am I a joke? Because I told you I don't fuck with feelings, and you got me feeling these kind of things, that I don't fucking understand. And now -- now you don't just have feelings for someone else, you're in love with them. I must look like some big fucking joke to you."

Aaron:

Aaron frowned. There really wasn't any bone in his body that thought he deserved to be happy at this point. Part of him wished that Eden would just storm out and tell him to go fuck himself. Maybe slap him across the face. Fuck, he really hoped someone would slap him across the face at this point. He knew the rage was coming, but he wasn't expecting her to break the glass. He jumped up from the bed as he heart skipped a beat when he heard the glass break. Dad mode, like always, kicked in when he noticed her bleeding. "Fuck..." he mumbled, reaching out to her to guide her to the kitchen. Before he could, she really laid into him. Yeah, she deserved to react this way. She had a lot of self-respect and anyone with self-respect would react like this. Eden wasn't a joke to Aaron; in fact he really, really liked her. He knew he fucked up when he didn't tell her the whole truth up on the roof, but the truth was he hadn't even admitted those feelings to himself yet. It had been years since Aaron had felt a romantic attachment to anyone and now he was feeling it for two people. The young man was confused, and he didn't know what to do with all the emotion he was feeling. "I'm sorry..." he muttered, but he was so concerned with the fact that she was bleeding to say anymore. That and he wanted to stall for time to think of something better to say besides a dumb apology. "Can I please take you to the kitchen to clean you up?" He wasn't even concerned about the china, even though the crystal was expensive. Crystal wine glasses could be replaced, and the hurt Aaron knew that Eden was feeling was fast worse than some broke crystal. "Please? We can talk in the kitchen after I clean your hand." he begged, reaching to place his hands on her shoulders and guide her to the kitchen. He hesitated at first to make sure that she would let him touch her.

Eden:

Eden didn't understand what she was feeling in this moment. In fact, she never understood what she was feeling when it came to Aaron. In reality, Eden probably should have decked him in the face and called it a day. But, something stopped her from doing just that. Maybe it was the way she had felt when the two laid in bed together, and talked till they fell asleep. Maybe it was the fancy dinners, but something told her to try and stay calm. It was probably those stupid ass warm fuzzy butterflies in her tummy. But how could someone do that? She had never felt a real romantic attachment to anyone - until she met Aaron. And now his romantic attachment was elsewhere, or so she believed. "I'm sorry? Is that all you can say?" She muttered. The girl brought her hand up to her face to really inspect it, it was bleeding pretty bad, but she wanted to get through this talk. But, she knew worse things would happen if she didn't clean her hand. Eden winced at the feeling of his hand on her shoulder, but sighed. "Fine, but we are not in the slightest bit done talking about this." Eden reminded him as they walked towards the kitchen. She didn't like to show emotion, not this way, but she knew there were tears streaming down her face. She could feel the warm wet splotches, which meant her make-up, the make-up she put on to impress him - was probably marking up her cheeks as they made their way to the kitchen.

Aaron:

The native New Yorker shook his head. He knew this conversation was far from over, and he knew he needed to say more than im sorry. Dad mode was just really taking over. “I have more to say, i promise. We can talk. I just.... your hands.” He looked down at her hand that was now bleeding pretty badly at this point. He’d normally be dealing with a screaming 5 year old, so he knew he could handle this. He brought her to the kitchen. And sat her down at the kitchen table, which reminded him...What was with glass being broken in his house lately? He turned to the cabinet to grab the first aid kit. The father rushed back over to her and positioned the chair in front of her. The brunette suddenly noticed her crying. Was she crying because she was hit by him or hurt by the glass? Hell, it was probably a mixture of both at this point. He was the cause of a lot of people’s pain. As he tended to her bleeding hand he looked at her puffy. His heart hurt. He had been the cause of this. Eden was so special to him, and she didn’t deserve to get caught up in this. Eden was the most beautiful and confident woman he had ever met. He loved staying up with her all night, talking with her, and he couldn’t wait for her to meet his daughter. Why had he treated someone so perfect so awfully? He fixed her up within a matter of minutes, knowing exactly what to do. “Now, adult band aid or Frozen bandaid?” He asked, holding up her two options trying to make light of the situation.

Eden:

Eden hated this moment. When she left her house to come over to Aaron's, she had expected the night to go a hell of a lot better. But now she ached, her hand ached, her body ached, even her heart ached. She didn't like what she was feeling, and this was the exact reason she didn't get involved with people. Things never went the right way for Eden, and for once she had felt like something was, only to be destroyed in the matter of days. Her red eyes returned to her hand, which had a lot more red than she had seen in a long time. Normally, if someone got hurt, she would take charge of the situation, she had spent most of her life planning on becoming a doctor, but now, she didn't want to take care of anything, so she was appreciative that Aaron seemed to know what he was doing. When he asked about the band-aid, a small smile broke onto her face. "Frozen, please." She told him, but then pouted again, "Don't make me smile when I'm mad at you."

Aaron:

A sly smile spread across Aaron’s face when she spoke. Maybe there was hope for this after all. He found it a little ironic that he was a businessman fixing up a future doctor’s wounds. He nodded, trying to wipe the smug smile off of his face by biting down on his lip. “There.” He said, placing few Frozen band aids on her hands where the deepest wounds were. “The doctor getting doctor’d.” He mused sitting back in his seat. He looked over at her and noticed her makeup running down her face. She was still so beautiful even with mascara down her face. He gentle took a tissue to pat her eyes. “I’m sorry, Eden. I never meant to hurt you.” He finally said, frowning. “I want to keep things going with us. I like the way this is. I like you.” He tried to smile. “I like the way you don’t give two fucks about what anyone has to say. The way you walk, your tiny voice, how you hold me at night. I could go on. Roman...he just came out of nowhere.” Oh shit. Was this the first time he was actually telling Eden who this other man was? He didn’t actually mean to spit Roman’s name out. It just kind of flew from his lips. He wondered what kind of reaction she would have about that. He assumed they were friends. At least, he knew they knew each other.

Eden:

Eden didn't enjoy the fact that even though she was mad at him, he could still make her smile. "Thanks, doctor." She said, a small smile on her face, but quickly even that faded back to seriousness. Eden wanted all of this information to go away, everything seemed so simple on the rooftop at Throuple. Nothing too complicated, and since that day, all had been smooth sailing. Sure, it hadn't even been a week yet, but Eden enjoyed what they had. She didn't want it to be complicated by this person that Aaron was in love with. She knew her breath was shaky, that he probably felt that as he patted her cheeks dry. She couldn't imagine what she looked like in this moment, probably some wack job that after tonight Aaron would never want to see again. "But that's the problem. You like me. You love him. Those are two very different words, Aaron. What if I was in love with you? Then what would you do? You can't be in love with two different people." She very much knew that you could easily be in love with two people, but she didn't want to admit that. Her cheeks became pink as he spoke about her. She had a list just like that of the things she loved about Aaron. But she wasn't about to go listing them off for him, right now, he didn't deserve that. Her mind then processed Roman's name. "Whoa - hold the phone, you're in love with Roman?!" Eden was filled with sadness. But not so much for herself, but for Roman. She had run into him at Throuple and had told him all about how her and Aaron had become exclusive on the rooftop. How foolish could she be? She didn't have a ton of friends in Kingsboro, but she surely considered Roman as one. Now this, this broke her heart. Roman was fabulous, she knew it, and clearly Aaron did too, if he was in love with him. Eden jumped up out of the chair she had been sitting in and once again returned to a pacing state. "Roman Beckett? There isn't no other Roman I know of. I'm thinking of the right one, yeah?" Her small body desperately wanted to drop to the floor and just cry, curled up in the fetus position. If she was home - home alone, that would be exactly what she would have done. The girl was strong, especially in front of other people, but there was only so much information a girl could take in at once. "I can't believe this." She said, rubbing her head as she paced back and forth. "How did I not know this?" Part of her didn't even realize she was talking out loud, she thought she was talking in her head. "Why would you want to keep this going if you're in love with Roman?" She whispered, feeling the tears starting up once more.

Aaron:

Aaron had really regretted telling Roman those three words. While it felt good to get off this chest, the hurt he had caused other people hadn’t been worth it. Aaron had always been the protective type since his daughter was born. He felt that part of his purpose in life was to keep the people he loved safe. He never wanted to be the person that people needed to be protected from. Aaron very knew that he could definitely be in love with two different people. He wasn’t in love with Eden but he was certainly falling for her, yet his feelings for Roman remind unchanged no matter how hard he tried. It pained Aaron to know that he was the cause of her tears and when he felt her quivering, his heart only aches more. “Morning is going to happen with Roman, Eden.” He could see how upset she was. He wanted to pull her in for a hug, but he wasn’t sure if he was in the place to be holding her. He wasn’t sure if she wanted him, the person causing the tears to hold her. That was a hard question. He did want to be with Roman, but he couldn’t deny his attraction to Eden either. Not to mention, he couldn’t be with Roman. “Roman and I will never be, Eden. It’s not possible. I’m moving on from him.” He didn’t really answer her question. “I like you, Eden and I hate that way I’m making you feel. But I’m not going to pursue anything with Ro. We’re staying friends, but I don’t want to be just friends with you.” He said with pleading eyes.

Eden:

Part of Eden wanted to grab her bag from Aaron's room and storm out, never to see Aaron again. But the other part of her, the bigger part of her, wanted to stay. There was no denying there was a connection between her an Aaron, and even if he was in love with someone else, he had made a commitment to her. He agreed to only see her and to only have sex with her, and she knew that was a big deal. She knew it was a big deal on her end, for her to agree to only have sex with him, but for him to agree to it - while being in love with someone else - was an even bigger deal. She came to a halt in the middle of the room, turning on one foot to loo at Aaron, "You're moving on?" She sighed, bringing her good hand up to her face, wiping away the few tears that were stinging her eyes. "I hate that you're making me feel like this too," She admitted, "I really fucking hate it." Eden let out a shaky breath, walking back over to Aaron, and slipping her hands into his. "You promise you're moving on? Because I can't do this relati---," She caught herself before fully letting out relationship, "I can't do this exclusiveness thing if you aren't. I need to know you're in this one hundred percent." It was hard enough for her to commit to someone, but to be commited to someone like him, this was going to be a roller coaster.

Aaron:

Aaron knew that Eden did not have a good history with her past relationship. And he hated that he was proving her right. Things were way too fucking complicated at this point, which was the whole reason he hated relationships to begin with. “I’m moving on. I really am. Roman has a girlfriend. I’m exclusive with you.” His eyes widened a little bit before she stopped herself from labeling what they were as a relationship and was relieved when she stopped herself. Something he could handle right now was calling Eden is girlfriend. “I’m in this, Eden” He was telling the truth. He had come to terms a while ago that he couldn’t be with Roman, and it was slowly starting to become normal for him. “We can take it really slow. Lord knows, I need to take this slow. But my feelings for haven’t changed at all, Eden. They’re genuine.” Ew, he was getting to mushy but he couldn’t help it.

Eden:

There was reason why Eden hated relationships. They were complicated and messy, never have they been worth it. But Aaron, Aaron was worth it. She would put 110 percent into this exclusiveness, but in return she wanted at least 90 percent back in return. The two were exclusive, but there was no label attaching them, so it was hard to explain it. She kept nodding as he spoke, taking a moment and leaning her head to his forehead for a moment. She let out a quivering breath, “They better be, because — you’re not going to hurt me.” She pulled back from his head once again, “But — if I hear you aren’t moving on— and there is shit going on between you and Roman behind my back. Then this is over. You have one fucking chance, one.” She told him.

Aaron:

Aaron couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Eden was really something special. The fact that she could put up with all his bullshit, but at the same time really assert herself and what she wanted out of Aaron. “I’ll give you my all.” He told her. He wasn’t sure if he believed the words himself, but he really really wanted to. Even though she was completely serious, he couldn’t help but smile. “The fact that you’re giving me a second chance really just proves how much you my like me.” He sing-songed as he grabbed her non-injured hand to kiss her palm. “You’re fucking incredible.” He mused.

Eden:

She wasn’t sure what was going to happen between her Aaron. But she knew if she didn’t peruse this, she would regret it later on. She needed to know what the feelings she had for Aaron were, and if it meant she’d get hurt in the process than so be it. “You better.” She relaxed her shoulders when he kissed her hand. “I know I am incredible. My word of advice to you is don’t fuck it up.” She said, pressing her lips to his for just a moment, “I should go clean up the glass in your bed.” She reminded him, heading back towards the bedroom, “Again, sorry about that.”

Aaron:

If anything, this conversation had left their 'relationship' pretty uncertain. Then again, it wasn't really super certain to begin with anyway. He couldn't help but smile when she told him not to fuck it up. There was the Eden knew he so well. "Just sit. I'll clean up." he said, guiding her to the couch. It was the least he could do. After all, he was the cause of the broken wine glass. "You don't have to be sorry. I'll be right back." he said, sliding down the hallway to clean up the expensive crystal that was all over his floor and bed.

#discord #eden #aden #ft. roman #ft. jaycee #ft. landon

3 notes · View notes

theteaisaddictive · 5 years

Note

Could you do the director's commentary for Belle and Eve's coming out to each other in Ever Just the Same, please?

thanks!! (this is so long oh my god)

ok, so the scene really begins at the start of the chapter, with belle realising that by spying into the garden, she’s (inadvertently, this time) crossed another of the beast’s boundaries. she’s buffeted by the winter wind, which carries over nicely to the ‘cut’ when we resume a direct narration of events, with belle in her bed and the gust of wind transformed into a full-on storm. belle wants to find an area of the castle where she can find comfort in the midst of the storm -- a safe space, if you will -- and chooses the library. this location is done for obvious reasons; it and the grounds are the two settings where belle and the beast have spent the most time together, and the grounds are out of bounds if it’s midnight during a snowstorm. so library it is -- a warm, inviting area where the two have developed their relationship to find common ground, but also an area of exploration and discovery of the wider world through the literature they read.

(cont. under the cut)

the beast’s narration opens with further exploration of her physical dissonance; she hates being cursed, but she has a physical need to fly and stretch her wings. two conflicting ideals at the same time, which metaphorically link to her internalised homophobia; she’s intrigued by belle, and getting close to maybe falling in love with her, but at the same time she wants to be ‘normal’. there’s some more world building about how things work when she isn’t injured (the staff keep the curtains drawn at all times for ease of access, and it hasn’t been long enough for them to get out that habit yet/eve is very familiar with the patterns of movement in the castle, and the servants are familiar with hers as well).

and then, the first big plot twist of the story -- cogsworth and lumiere are, like, gay.

the beast at this moment hasn’t even started her journey to self acceptance. but she’s so wound up in her identity as the protector of the staff that she’s already side-stepped the ‘this is wrong and my staff should be punished’ response and has leapt straight to ‘oh god oh god what if i’m about to see two men i’ve known since childhood threatened and assaulted, or worse, in front of my very eyes and there’s nothing i can do to stop it?!?’ of course this doesn't happen, as cogs and lumi are in a very happy throuple, and this gives the beast a real paradigm shift in the way she views the world. when writing, i wanted it to be clear what kind of homophobia the beast had grown up with (and what she might semi-realistically have been exposed to), but i also didn't want to make it torture-porn (or anachronistic in wording), if that makes sense -- so she refers to herself as vulgarity, as a perversion, whereas if this was set in today's times she might be repeating conservative talking points and various slurs she may have learned.

we also learn that the beast, being in the body of a bird, can't gain the emotional catharsis of crying. this isn’t especially relevant at this moment, but it gets revisited at several other times of high emotional stress in later chapters, and there will be a payoff once she finally turns human again.

so, with all this going around in her mind, the beast enters the library and finds who else but belle, in a state of undress she has never seen a woman in. there are two lines from this passage which i feel really show the beast’s dilemma here -- how in the (unspecified) number of years since she realised she was attracted to women, she had become ‘as chaste as a nun’ (be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. get thee to a nunnery, go.) -- and then when belle is sitting on the couch, about to get off, and her nightdress rucks up slightly -- ‘uncovering her legs up to her knees, and [she] hated herself for noticing their elegant shape’.

there’s a reiteration that belle should feel at home with the beast, and then shit gets real as they discuss the woman in white. now as far as i know there isn’t any queer theory about the woman in white, but it was written by wilkie collins specifically as a response to the piss-poor lot married women got in england, so not exactly irrelevant to these women. it naturally leads to discussion of marriage, belle sharing about gaston and then the beast, for the first time, sharing what happened with the enchanter.

the hand-touching is at that moment the best way belle can try and provide comfort to the beast. greensearcher’s ‘Mirrors’ articulates this straight-up in the text beautifully, but the beast is alone in a sea of people who can’t touch her. we also get the first of my favourite images -- belle as a cat, chasing after the beast, a bird.

and only then, after having a paradigm shift in her worldview and being assured through their discussion of marriage that belle understands at leats part of where she’s coming from, does the beast admit that she is ‘a perversion’. (contrast, if you like, with the affirmation and euphoria in chapter 16 when she re-identifies as ‘lesbian’ instead of monster)

we don’t see belle’s pov in this scene, but she chooses to come out in part because of the beast’s bravery, partly because this is the first other queer person she’s met, and partly because for the first time the beast is lowering her barriers and letting her in. (lowering barriers and letting people in is a recurring theme, in case you hadn’t guessed by now)

the final line in the chapter is also interesting: ‘outside their small oasis of golden light, the snowstorm raged on’. gold as a colour is associated with the beast and belle in the original film, and that’s continued in my fic. with the semi-cinematic ‘zoom out’, we also get the image of these two women huddled together in the warmth, while the cold world rages around them, and if that’s not a metaphor for safe spaces i don’t know what is.

#asks #cinderellasfella #ever just the same

8 notes · View notes

certifiedskywalker · 7 years

Text

Alright - Reader X Jughead Jones X Veronica Lodge

Anonymous said:

"I’d be willing to take on a few more!" - My original request was, "Would you consider writing a reader x Jughead x Veronica wherein Veronica decides she's tired of watching reader and Jughead dance around each other and keeps inviting herself to hang out with the two in order to push them together, only to determine she likes their dynamic as a trio better?"

I wasn’t really sure how to take this one, as it’s my first reader X two other people imagine. I hope I did good for you! Sorry for the requesting hassle.

Today was another one of those days, where it was so painfully obvious to Veronica that you and Jughead Jones had feelings for each other. The accidental brushing of fingers, and the longing stares had become painful to see. She had talked and pestered you about him for weeks on end, yet there was still no result. It even got to the point where she talked to Jughead on the subject matter, but he just stayed quiet. She had tried everything to get you two together, but simply sitting by each other at lunch wasn’t enough. So, using her cupid-like powers, she devised a plan.

“Supervised dates?” You raised your eyebrow at Veronica who just smiled proudly. “I’m acting as your training wheels in a sense,” she elaborated, “until you and Jughead grow comfortable with your feelings, I’ll be there to guide the date along.” You continued to stare at Veronica, wondering why on Earth she thought that this was a good idea.

“Please, Y/N,” she said looking into your pretty eyes, “It’s been torturous watching you and Jughead looking at each other then looking away, looking again, looking away and then you look at each other-”

“Okay, okay! I will try this idea, only if you think it will work.” Veronica gave you one of those smiles you loved to see and nodded. “It will work, just you wait.”

The first supervised date was a simple evening out at Pop’s. You all ordered milkshakes and split a basket of fries.

“So what’s going on in the life of our favorite novel writer-detective guy?” You and Jughead awkwardly looked at Veronica who just laughed.

“Answer the question, Jones,” she said through her laughter, “just answer the question.” He smiled at you then Veronica, “nothing really. Working on the case with Betty most of the time.”

“Did you guys get any new leads?” Jughead nodded somberly and was about to list them when Veronica interrupted.

“Can we stray away from murder please? Death normally doesn’t make good date conversation.” You almost spit out your milkshake at Veronica’s words.

“This is a date,” Jughead asked with squinted eyes. You looked at Veronica who realized what she had done.

“Yes, it is. I’m sick and tired of you two dancing around your feelings so I decided that I would supervise your dates until you felt open enough to date by yourselves.” You turned to Jughead whose eyebrows were raised, and then you starting laughing. It sounded so ridiculous hearing it a second time. Jughead started to laugh too, which made Veronica smile. At least everything was out in the open now; well, most of it. Jughead stopped laughing, looking at you and Veronica in deep thought.

“Alright,” he said suddenly and Veronica smiled. “Really,” you asked, making sure that Jughead was comfortable with it. He nodded and Veronica clapped her hands together.

“This is great,” she said with a smile, “and remember, whenever you want me gone, just tell me.” You looked at Jughead, who was looking at you, and he nodded. You smiled with a blush on your cheeks and turned to Veronica, nodding along with Jughead.

Except, that time never came. The next few supervised dates, one of which Veronica thought you’d tell her to leave, still included the three of you. You found yourself enjoying the time spent with both Jughead and Veronica slightly more than thought of just being alone with Jughead. You had always thought Veronica was pretty, but your feelings for Jughead initially clouded over your eyes. Now you could feel deeper feelings, than you thought you could ever have, growing for both of them. You didn’t dare bring this up with anyone, fearful to how they would react. Little did you know, Jughead also enjoyed the time spent with the both of you as well. He found the both of you stunningly gorgeous, and had done research on how three way relationships work. He kept this to himself, but brought it up with you when he thought he was going to explode. On a day Veronica had cheerleading practice, Jughead offered to walk you home.

“Hey Y/N, do you feel like,” he stopped walking, trying to find the right words. “I think we should all date,” he finally said, avoiding eye contact. You stepped in front of him, trying to get him to look into your eyes.

“I just think,” he started, shaking his head. He looked back at you with resolve, “I don’t want to seem greedy, but I’ve opened up to you and Veronica so much-” You interrupted his speech with a kiss. His hand went to your jaw, pulling your lips against his in a deeper kiss. You pulled away breathless and staring into his wide eyes.

“Yes,” you whispered, “I agree with you.” He smiled down at you, the worry on his face melting away. You squeezed his hand to reassure him and he felt truly happy in the first time since the Twilight closed. You both continued to walk, making plans to tell Veronica about how you didn’t want supervised dates anymore; you wanted real dates now. Jughead walked you up to your door, a smiled plastered on his face.

“So Pop’s after school,” he said, restating your plans, “I’m in charge of flowers, and you’re treating us to dinner.” You nodded, fiddling with your fingers as you thought of the day to come.

“Soon,” he said, grabbing your anxious hands and rubbing his fingers over the knuckles to sooth you, “we will be able to split date costs.” You smiled up at him, and wondered what this would be like when you both finally brought in Veronica.

You swallowed hard as you walked up to where Veronica was standing near her locker. You thought back to the plan and the many conversations you had with Jughead. You weren’t just asking her out for yourself, you were also asking for him in a way. You endured your nerves and walked over to Veronica. When you made your way over, she turned to give you a bright smile. You returned it warmly and Betty, who was talking to Veronica, snuck away with Kevin.

“What’s up, Y/N?” Veronica continued to smile, looking you up and down. You blushed under her gaze and she smiled wider.

“Me and Jughead were wondering if you wanted to go to Pop’s after school,” you said blashfullily. She smiled, placing her hand to her chest in fake shock. You felt the knot in your stomach loosen when she nodded.

“Of course I will,” she said, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “But if you’re not careful I might steal one of you for myself.” You smiled softly, hoping she would actually take you both. You extended your arm for Veronica to take. She smiled at you as she linked her arm around yours. You started to walk towards the school exit, making quiet conversation with Veronica. As you made your way, you silently hoped that Jughead was doing alright.

When you arrived at Pop’s, Veronica went to use the restroom. You took the moment of freedom to ask Pop if he had seen or heard from Jughead. He simply smiled and point towards a secluded booth in the far corner of the restaurant.

“He told me he was having a special date,” Pops said with a grin, “needed a special table to set up.” You felt a blush bloom on your cheeks as you felt someone pull on your arm gently. You turned and smiled at Veronica. You lead her to the table that Pop pointed out and showed her to her seat. She smiled as she sat, carefully sliding into the booth.

“So where’s Jughead?” You looked around the diner, hoping he would arrive soon.

“He’s-” you started but you felt a breeze that drew your attention away from Veronica and towards the door. You saw Jughead rushing towards the table, his hands behind his back. He walked up to the table, standing near the edge of it.

“There he is,” Veronica said fondly, and Jughead smiled. He turned to you and you could see how nervous he was. You gave him a reassuring smile and he nodded towards you. He pulled his hands away from his back, revealing two pink roses. He extended one to you and the other to Veronica. You smiled and took the flower with a grin, so did Veronica.

“Thanks Juggie,” Veronica said as he slid into your side of the booth, “this is very unexpected.” He nodded with pink cheeks, turning to look down at you. He put his arm over your shoulders and Veronica grinned.

“You two are adorable! I assume that the rose is a thank you and this is our very last supervised date, yes?” You and Jughead looked at each other, silently asking the other if they were ready to face the music. He gave you a nod and you leaned forward, facing Veronica directly.

“Me and Jughead didn’t just want to thank you tonight,” Veronica raised an eyebrow at your words. You swallowed nervously, looking at Jughead for support.

“We came to the conclusion that we both,” he glanced at you, “want to spend time with you. Not just as friends but as, if you want this as well, a throuple.” He smiled softly, hopefully at Veronica. You reached your hand under the table, squeezing his gently. You took in the expression on Veronica’s face. Her brown eyes were wide as she looked at you both.

“Well I,” she started, extending her hands to the both of you, “for one, would love to give this a try. I guess I never realized it but the idea of a throuple with you two seems amazing.” You grabbed one of her hands, squeezing it. Jughead held the other, smiling softly at all of your joined hands. “I still can’t believe you used the word ‘throuple’.” Veronica said with a smile, you started to laugh while Jughead just shook his head in defeat.

“If that leaves this table,” he said with a small grin gracing his lips, “throuple or not, I will hunt you down.” You let out a giggle and Veronica just rolled her eyes. The three of you spent another few hours at the diner, chatting, admitting deeper feelings and laughing. When it came time to leave, Veronica and Jughead walked you out.

“We’ll see ya tomorrow Y/N,” Jughead said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.You nodded, and Veronica stepped forward.

“Yes, sleep well.” You smiled when she pressed a kiss to your other cheek. You saw your parent’s car drive up in the parking lot. It stopped, and you waved goodbye to your boyfriend and your girlfriend.

That afternoon, you left the diner knowing that you were lucky. Lucky to have no just one, but two supportive people that care for you deeply. The months that followed held warm cuddles from both Jughead and Veronica during movie nights at the Lodge’s. Tons of shared kisses and curious wonderings. As soon as it became apparent to you and Veronica that Jughead had no home, the two of you offered to take him in every other weeks. You all grew closer, bonded and grew together; and it all started with an “alright.”

#jughead jones x reader x veronica lodge #jughead jones x reader #veronica lodge x reader #jughead jones imagine #veronica lodge imagine #riverdale #riverdale imagine

176 notes · View notes