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milkteahood · 3 years

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Hello! I've been thinking about this for a whole week and I need to get it off my chest or I'll explode. This might be worded strangely because I can't explain it, only imagine it so I'll try my best. 😊

After the whole killing Miranda thing, Karl and his s/o move away from Romania, and after taking some time adjusting to their new life, have a baby. Now, I headcanon that Karl is afraid of going to the doctor because of Miranda's past experiments on him, and is especially deathly afraid of needles. Him using them on other people? That's just fine. But when it's pointed at him? Someone's gonna get hurt and it's not gonna be him.

So when his precious little ray of sunshine has to get their first vaccine shots, he's a nervous wreck, almost as if he was the one getting poked at, but tries to hide it. He knew it was good for his baby's health and he wants nothing more, but why did it have to be through painful shots? How is there not vaccine juice they can drink instead, dammit?! Obviously his s/o can tell he's getting worked up; he's tapping his foot, cooing at their baby to keep himself distracted, snuggling them close to his chest, almost like he's protecting them from the doctor's and their scary needles. His s/o tries to distract and calm him as their baby babbles happily in his arms.

The nurse comes in and Karl immediately goes into full Dad Mode™. Have you ever seen the cute video of the dad who's scared of needles comforting his baby son while he gets his shots? This one -> https://youtu.be/lqAUMsqiFxI (I hope that actually leads to the video), I think that's how he'd act. He's not even thinking about how he looks, he probably looks ridiculous but that's in the very back of his mind. His only thoughts are about protecting his baby from any and all pain, so he doesn't really care, as he cradles them and rambles non-stop encouragement and praise, not leaving their side for a second. When the nurse is done, Karl immediately scoops the baby up, seemingly more relieved than they were, holding them close and cooing about how strong they are.

His s/o would've chuckled a bit in wholehearted amusement at his heartwarming scene in the doctor's office, but the display of their lover and baby was just too cute and they didn't want to break Karl out of whatever protective instincts he was under. During the pregnancy, he was so scared that the persistant thoughts telling him that he will be a horrible father would be true, but, even if Karl himself didn't see it yet, his s/o knew their baby was safe being watched by his loving eyes and cradled in his protective arms.

I couldn’t open the link, but I can still imagine how that would go, so I hope you like this 💕

“My love, it’s just a vaccine” Y/N told Karl

“But it’s gonna hurt! I know it will! People used to scream when I did anything to them!”

“That’s because you used to do experiments on them. This is a vaccine. It’s completely safe”

Karl would not bulge. He knew the vaccine was mandatory, but he couldn’t see his princess go through anything inconvenient. They have been waiting outside the doctor’s office, ready to be called in any minute. His daughter was playing with one of the buttons from his coat, giggling and nibbling on it.

Some children would cry while getting their vaccine, which would freak Karl would even more. No matter how much his wife tried fo reassure him, he still tried to convince her to leave. He tried his best to stay calm, sometimes wishing he’d have his daughter’s chill. She did not care, too focused on ripping off that button. But Karl cared. Flashbacks of Miranda’s experiments came to him.

Him as a child, tied to a table while Miranda stung him with yet another needle. He never knew what was inside them until it was too late. He remembers screaming and crying, begging Miranda to stop. Telling her that it hurts. That he can’t take it anymore. But she never stopped. She always used to call him her brave son. And now, whenever he’d accidentally sting himself while working, he would flip the whole room. There was a particular fear rooted in trauma he couldn’t get over. His wife placed her palm on his knee, when she noticed he was tapping his foot.

She knew about his fears and traumas all too well. Y/N has been the first and only person he has even opened up to. She also knew he loved getting his hair played with when stressed. Looking down she noticed he was holding their daughter very protectively, and deep down, she hoped her child wouldn’t cry, for if she did, Karl would destroy the entire hospital.

The baby was looking up at her father curiosity. She was yet to discover why he wasn’t happy at the moment. When she frowned at him, Karl got stopped in his tracks.

“Why is she doing that?”

“Because she can sense how uneasy you’re feeling” his wife chuckled.

Some relief washed over him at that. He has always been scared of being a terrible father. For a moment there he thought his daughter hated him. Some forehead kisses later, and his daughter was a giggling mess once more. That eased Karl’s stress, and he began playing with her in an attempt to distract himself.

At some point he stood up and started playing airplane with her. The parents around found it endearing. Everyone thought he was being so considerate, not wanting his daughter to get scared, but in truth, he was the one that was scared. His daughter was happy, and that’s all that mattered. But he knew it wouldn’t last long. He knew the nurse could come out any second to call them in. And he was right, for it didn’t take long before he heard her call “Mr and Mrs Heisenberg? Please come inside”.

Karl shot another desperate look to his wife, hoping they would just leave. It was not too late yet. They could just walk out. What would the doctor even do? No one ever dared stand up to Karl. Well, except one particular person that kicked his ass, but that’s another story for another time.

As they walked inside, Karl was holding their daughter and his wife could easily sense he is feeling nervous. The doctor has been nothing but kind, reassuring Karl’s wife that fathers are usually the sensitive ones about this. In an attempt to make them laugh, by cracking a few jokes, the doctor earned a giggle from the little one. Karl, who was ready to throw that person out the window the second they came near with the needle, smiled. He smiled at his daughter smiling, and he smiled at the doctor for getting that out of her.

“You seem nice. Why are children crying?” Karl asked a little skeptical

“Well, the sting does hurt a little. And they’re children, not only it hurts, they also sense their parents’ discomfort. It’s a lot to take it for a baby, but it goes away rather quickly” the doctor explained

Karl did not like the doctor mentioning pain one bit. He was now even more reluctant to give them his daughter. But he had to and his wife was encouraging him to. She has always been supportive of him and she was doing a great job at being the emotional support Karl desperately needed.

When the doctor prepared the shot, and proceeded to approach, Karl froze up in place, and his wife needed to rub his back and reassure him that she’s right there and she’s not going anywhere. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the needle. His entire body was screaming at him to do something. The only constant thing was his wife’s palm on his back. Up and down, then kissing his shoulder.

He was broken away from his trance when he heard his baby girl cry. He was about to rip the doctor in half, before his wife stopped him.

“And that’s all!” the doctor said, cold sweat breaking as they made eye contact with Karl.

“Oh thank you so much” Karl’s wife hurried to say before dragging her husband out. She knew any more minute spent in there and Karl would totally kill the doctor.

Karl easily managed to get his daughter to stop crying, but his wife had to do a lot of convincing for her husband not to resort to murder. In the end she ended up calming him down by holding his hand on their way back home, with the occasional cheek kiss.

#milkteas asks #heisenberg asks #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #karl heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #re8 karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader

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woniepop · 3 years

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feel special ༉‧₊˚✧

➜ the three times you didn’t want to be Karl’s best friend any more and the one time you weren’t

Pairing: Karl Jacob’s x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, best friends to lovers au, enemies to lovers au

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, cursing

Word Count: 2.0k words

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first time writing for a mcyt streamer, but unfortunately I will not be writing works for more streamers anytime soon. This is for my lovely friend basil Ly and losingvienna’s follower event, which you should definitely check out of you are in to mcyt streamers!!

I highly recommend checking @basilly and @losingvienna out if you haven’t already!!

Ever since you met Karl, you’ve hated everything about him. He was sweet, he was caring, he was everything you’ve ever wanted in anyone. From the moment he stepped foot in your kindergarten your life had become a living hell. He was great! You on the other hand, had never felt more miserable in your life. It had never occurred to you that being different was a bad thing, but apparently, to your whole kindergarten class of 26 kids, it was terrible. But, somehow, amidst the screaming kids and the poorly colored art projects, Karl only saw you.

Your fellow kindergarten classmates stared at you, perhaps a bit too judgingly, as you sat down in your seat. Feeling super excited to come to school today, your grandma has recently gotten you your very own pink sundress, equipped with a pink satin ribbon to tie a cute little bow in the back. You wanted your classmates to like you, so you had to be the prettiest you could ever be.

“Why are you wearing a dress to school? Do you think you’re a princess?” one of the children say, rather, shout across the room. And with that, the whole class starts laughing, except you.

“What? Are you trying to impress someone?”

“OOO Y/N HAS A CRUSH!”

“I bet it’s Karl”

“Of course it is. She just wants to daaaaaaate him, doesn’t she?”

With tears welling up in your eyes and boogers dripping down your nose, you quickly stand up just to take the hall pass and run to the nearest bathroom. It was humiliating, feeling like you had tried so hard to make friends just to get laughed at. It felt terrible.

You were NOT excited for your first day of high school. Why would you be? It was just another year of “light hearted” jokes about you and how you were “so different.” Settling with a seat in the back, you tilt your head down only for the teacher to walk in right after.

“Good morning, students! Welcome to your first day of Freshman Year! I’m sure you’re all very excited for these next four years, but before that why don’t we all introduce ourselves to each other!” The teacher says, in a high pitch, peppy voice. You had stopped listening to her after that. You already knew what was going to happen, you were going to be paired up with some immature male football player looking for a tall, hot, and blonde cheerleader girlfriend, then he was going to say something stupid like, “Girls like you aren’t really my type.” No shit you weren’t his type. It happened every year. Feeling a light tap on your shoulder, you force your head up, preparing yourself for the dreadful introduction.

“Hi! I believe we’re partners for the All About Me project. May I sit here?” he says, pointing to the chair beside you. He, as in Karl Jacobs. The Karl Jacobs. The man, the myth, the legend, the boy that filled your entire life with “She just wants to date Karl. She’s such an attention whore.” With that, your eyes widen. You weren’t expecting him, nor were you ever this mad about anything in your life. You didn’t want to know anything about him, let alone do a whole project learning about him.

“Yeah, you can sit there.” You answer through clenched teeth.

“Thanks! I’m pretty sure we’re not going to be able to finish this within the period considering there are like 30 questions, so did you want to work on this in the library after school?” he asks.

“Sure.” You say promptly, not even bothering to make eye contact with him.

“I believe we went to the same elementary school, but I haven’t really gotten the chance to talk to you, so I’m glad we got to be partners for this project. I’m excited to get to know you.” He says, a glint of hope in his eyes. You hated it. Was he actually being nice? To you?

The rest of the period would have been answering all the questions on the list, but instead you guys had been side tracked, going off topic and talking about anything and everything. Putting aside your hatred for the boy, Karl seemed like a genuinely nice person. You had learned he loved gaming, which he was surprised you had a knack for as well.

“Well, Y/n, I’m sorry we couldn’t get a lot done this period. But, I’ll see you at the library later, and maybe we can even try out that new game you talked about tonight.” He says, standing up out of his chair and leaving the classroom. Maybe today wouldn’t be too bad after all.

ONE “Move!” you say, playfully shoving Karl off of you. It was the summer before your senior year, and you would have never guessed that you, Y/n L/n, would be spending your whole high school career with the boy you loathed most, Karl Jacobs. If there was ever anything you'd ever looked forward to, it was spending every Friday night with Karl Jacobs. That fateful day at the library was the start of the best tradition ever known to man.

“But we’re watching a movie!” Karl exclaims.

“So? You don’t need to watch it while squishing me half to death.”

“What do you mean? Have you ever heard of CUDDLING?”

“Cuddling has never consisted of MURDER.”

It was always like this. Every Friday night Karl would come to your house, your mom would gush at how handsome he was while she set a plate down of whatever food he wanted, and him telling her that she was the best cook ever. This is what you’ve always wanted, right? You had a best friend, who accepted you as you were, and you him. Despite always having heartwarming and laughter filled moments with your best friend, your heart hurt. A lot. Maybe the moment was just too heartwarming, or maybe this was the universe telling you that you didn’t want to be his friend anymore.

TWO “Hey, Karl!” she says. Ah, yes. Her. Karl’s childhood crush since what? Fourth grade?

“Oh, um, Hi!” He replies. There it was. That dreadful pain in your chest that only grew bigger as she sat down right next to him, disregarding the fact that you were sitting right there. The way she twirled her long blonde hair, the way she leaned over to show all of her cleavage, the way she wore skirts so short you could almost see her underwear, and the way it made your blood boil and your heart hurt until you couldn’t handle it anymore. You wanted to walk away so bad, but as Karl’s best friend you should support him in his romantic interests, even if you didn’t like them.

“So… I’m sure you’ve heard already. I broke up with my boyfriend.” she says, tracing her finger up and down his arm, making him noticeably very nervous.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always here.” You hear him say. Of course he was always here. He was there for everyone, and he would never try to exclude anyone from his kindness.

“I broke up with him because of you!”

“W-what”

“I want to be with you, silly!” she says. And with that, you felt your whole world go black and white. Did you hear her correctly? She wanted to be with him?

“I- I’m sorry, I can’t be with you.”

“WHAT?!? BUT I BROKE UP WITH MY BOYFRIEND JUST TO BE WITH YOU!”

“Well I’m sorry, but I love someone else. You should’ve consulted me before you threw away your relationship.”

Did you hear HIM correctly? He loves someone? You couldn’t take it anymore and excused yourself. Yet again, you ran to the bathroom feeling the same pain in your chest only 10 times worse. You didn’t want to be Karl’s friend anymore. Not like this.

THREE “I can’t believe you’re moving to California, Y/n” Karl says as he pushes his hair back, sighing in disbelief. “You’re really going to leave me?” He continues, tears welling up in his eyes as he turns to look at you with his signature puppy eyes.

“I have to! It’s always been my dream to go to college there!” You reply, feeling guilty for leaving behind everything for your dream.

“But I’ll miss you!” he says, fully knowing facetime exists, and you would always visit him during breaks.

“I’ll miss you too! But, I need to do this. Can you stay strong? For me?” you ask, cupping his face with your left hand. You had gone on one of your late night drives again, parking in an empty parking lot as you have deep late night conversations. Today’s topic happened to be college, and while it had been always known you were moving across the country after high school, the day was coming closer and it all felt too real.

As Karl leans his face into your hand, he lets out a yawn. “I guess it’s time to go back then.” you say.

“No, I don’t want to. I have to spend every second with you until you leave.” he whines. You wanted to as well, but then, there it was. The stinging in the back of your heart. You were tired of it. You hated feeling this way. You didn’t want to be Karl’s friend anymore.

THE END The warm summer air blew past you as you and Karl sit atop your roof, staring into the distance in the comfortable silence that was there from the moment Karl got to your house. Neither of you had spoken a word but neither of you cared. You just wanted to be with him. What would’ve made the night perfect was if you weren’t getting on the plane the very next morning, moving across the country.

Building up as much courage as you could, you said the three words you’ve been wanting to say ever since you had become friends. You were leaving, but before that you wanted more than anything else to let him know this. “I love you.” You say, causing his eyes to go wide. You… loved him? That was impossible.

“Yeah, I love you too.” He says casually.

“No. I love you more than in a friendly way.” You reply.

“Really? Why?” He asks in disbelief.

“I don’t know. Maybe it was because you were my first friend, but it’s definitely because you’re you. I’ve been bullied almost my whole life, and you know that. But, no matter how the world brings me down, and even when hurtful words stab me, I can smile again. Because you’re there.” You say, tears rolling down your face. You pause, before continuing on about how much he means to you. “I mean, my whole life, one moment I feel like I’m nothing at all. Like no one would notice if I were gone. But then you came! And I was so happy. Or maybe it’s cause you make me feel loved. But when I’m with you, I feel so special.”

And with that, Karl makes no hesitation in cupping your cheeks, silently wiping away your tears. In that moment, he decides that he doesn't want to be your friend anymore either. Leaning in, he whispers, “I love you too.” before he crashes his lips onto yours.

#karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs fic #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt fluff #mcyt angst #karl x reader #karl fluff #karl jacobs fluff #mcyt x reader #best friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #mcyt au #mcytumblr #mcyt fic

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franzias-cave · 2 years

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4, 17, 18👀

Thank you for asking! There is discussion of sexual assault as it relates to Twilight in this so I’m sticking it under a cut

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

This is a section from the Just World Fallacy where Rosalie thinks about the aftermath of her assault:

“If she did not remember her life was based on nothing. If she did not remember then no one could bear witness. The only ones who had experienced the rent in the universe were her and the perpetrators, and they were dead.

Everyone around her lived in a different timeline, one where the worst imaginable thing hadn’t yet happened. They had new experiences and wide, uncharted futures that gave them the space to become something new. Time in the other world was an arrow, moving inexorably forward.

Time in her world was a small, stuffy room. She was eternally tethered to the terrible thing they had done to her. If she moved, she moved around it, circling it endlessly. No matter what she did, everything came back to the brass buttons and the stars that shone in the sky above the alley.”

Why I am so pleased with myself:

It really do be like that.

Cheeky Nabokov reference.

17. Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?

Re: work, there is sometimes a significant difference between what I intended and what readers seemed to get.

Undercover Ops is a tragedy. People make the wrong choices over and over and Paranoid Bella becomes the worst possible version of herself. She goes from being a reasonably kind and generous person to someone that spends her free time torturing and murdering people for her own amusement. Most people were more upset that she wasn’t popular at work? I don’t think the horror of her actually literally torturing someone really landed, which is probably on me as a writer.

Overall people seemed to get what I was trying to do. Honestly I expected more backlash for the bummer ending, though I think the fact that Lauren got her HEA made Bella’s predicament easier to digest.

Re: misconceptions about me - I hate true crime. Can’t stand it.

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

Initially Undercover Ops was going to follow @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin‘s Paranoid Bella outline, which would end up with a big confrontation in Volterra where Bella finally gets to yell at Edward and then join the Volturi. I planned a big set piece conversation in the waiting room between Bella and Gianna about the value of human life and what it meant to be a vampire, with an eventually bittersweet ending where Bella got to join the Volturi and be happy (and get with Renata).

However, in the writing process enough things changed that the ending planned would no longer be feasible, so we got the bitter ending instead where Bella betrays everyone she knows for a chance at staying alive and becomes the annoying coworker who murders children and tortures people on the side.

Also there was a massive deleted scene in Undercover Ops where Lauren rouses Bella from her depression and they have a Very Deep Conversation about a dead guinea pig named Fuzzy Baby and parenting styles. It was very gay and fairly heartwarming. Vinelle ruled it out for being too on the nose, which was probably the right move. RIP Fuzzy Baby, we barely knew ye.

#ask game #gabriziodeandre #undercover ops #the just world fallacy

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secndlife · 3 years

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[1:15am]

This definitely wasn't the Valentine’s Day you had planned. The original idea included you, Dabin, and dinner reservations. The two of you weren't serious, but you went on a couple of dates already. So when he mentioned spending the day together, the two of you decided to get a table in your favorite restaurant.

You weren't at the restaurant. You were at home. You weren't wearing a nice dress. You were wearing sweats. You weren't with Dabin. You were with Jeonghan.

“I can't believe this,” you said, huffing and dropping your phone to the table.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at you, “What?”

You took another bite of your food, your friend looking at you expectantly. “Dabin cancelled dinner tomorrow.” A small laugh passed his lips. “This is not funny.”

“It kinda is.” He drank a bit of his beer. “At least, for me.”

“Good to know my misery amuses you,” your tone was obviously annoyed.

Jeonghan's shoulders moved in a shrug, “I just don't know why you keep going out with him. He always does this.” You sighed, knowing damn well he was right. Dabin did always cancel on you last minute. Still, you kept going back to him as if nothing had happened. “So yes, you not learning your lesson once again is amusing to me.”

Your lips formed a pout, “So now I’ll be alone on Valentine's Day. Again.”

The man across from you rolled his eyes, “That's not a big deal.”

“It is to me,” you confessed. “I don't want to be alone.”

“You’ll only be alone because you have a terrible taste in men,” he commented, taking a piece of his meat. “If you were dating someone as amazing as me, this would not happen.”

You rolled your eyes, “Shut up, Jeonghan.”

He was your oldest friend, the both of you growing up together in Hwaseong. It was still funny to you being a close friend to someone that famous. But, in all fairness, that wasn't who he was to you. For you, he was just Jeonghan, the boy from a small city with a heart bigger than he'd care to admit, who was perhaps a bit too enticing for his own good.

He blinked once, twice, as if he was considering something. You squint your eyes at him and Jeonghan let out a sigh, “I can come over if you want.”

“Don’t you have practice?”

He nodded, “I have recordings, but I can come after.”

“I kinda really wanted to go to the restaurant, though,” you whined.

He shook his head vehemently, “No way. Not in the mood to risk getting caught having dinner with someone on Valentine's Day. Managers would kill me.” Oh. That. Sometimes it was easy to forget who he was outside your apartment’s doors or the private restaurant rooms. Especially as he was actually so much more. “But I can bring ice cream, and we can watch whatever romcom you want.”

You smiled at him, “Will you let me cry on your shoulder?”

He laughed, “When have I ever not let you do that? Half of my hoodies have your snot on them.”

When Jeonghan came over that night, it was late. He had just finished practice, hair wet against his forehead. There was something different about him. Or, maybe, there was something different about the way you looked at him. You couldn’t really tell. But when he said hi, your heart did a somersault in your chest. And in years, and years, and years of knowing him, that had never happened. Maybe you were just too lonely, and he was too charming.

Made of Honor was playing on your flat screen TV, but you were barely paying any attention. Tom was realizing how much he liked Hannah, the scene being a bit too familiar with reality. It was hard to focus on it when all you could think about was how Jeonghan seemed particularly handsome today.

“What?” He asked, pulling you out of a very specific thought on his lips.

You shook your head, trying to ground yourself. “What what?”

He squint his eyebrows at you, “You’re looking at me funny.”

“Am not,” you protested.

A giggle passed his lips, “Like you’re in love with me or something.” The two of you flirted sometimes. Jeonghan couldn’t really not do it. It was too much into his nature. So you often flirted back. This seemed different, though. His voice lacked the joking hints it usually had. It felt oh too similar to having an epiphany.

You rolled your eyes, “You are so full of yourself.”

“That’s one of the reasons why you love me,” Jeonghan said. You couldn’t deny it. “Anyway, something’s up. I know you.”

“Nothing’s up.” You were just suddenly flooded with thoughts of seeing the one person you had never seen like that as something more than just a friend. With thoughts of how could you not have seen it before. Thoughts of how could you not have seen him before.

He turned his body towards yours, “You can tell me anything. Even if it is that you’re in love with me.”

You punched his arm lightly and your body got that much warmer. “Shut up.”

Jeonghan’s laugh echoed through the room, and you wondered why the sound had never affected you before like it did just now. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be waiting then.”

“For what?” You said, furrowing your eyebrows at him in confusion.

The smile that formed on Jeonghan’s lips made your head spin. “For when you finally realize you’re madly in love with me the way I am with you.”

a/n: hiiii @glowingjaehyun!!!! i hope you enjoy this hehehe i had fun writing it. hope you have a great valentine’s day too, full of love and heartwarming things!!!! you’re the sweetest and i loved writing this for you! so yeah! for everyone else, this is a drabble for @caratwritersclub‘s valentine’s day event! just some sweet idol bff jeonghan :D i hope you enjoy!

#jeonghan #seventeen #svt #jeonghan fic #jeonghan scenario #jeonghan imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #jeonghan fluff #seventeen timestamps #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader

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amanda-glassen · 2 years

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Grandma Killed A Man & Other Heartwarming Family Tales

While sharing their New Year’s resolutions, the Benson kids regale their mother with heartwarming family tales. Requested by @noitsnotshortformildred Serena hated making New Year’s resolutions because she didn’t have any intentions on becoming a better person and didn’t see the point in lying about it; however, reading their New Year’s resolutions aloud at the dining room table was a tradition for the Benson family so Serena doodled on her paper while everyone else was focused on the task at hand.

“Jay, you’re the new kid here. You go first,” Kyle told her. Serena glanced over at her wife’s paper and saw a list of ten resolutions in comparison to her paper filled with doodles of axes and the words ‘Kill Kyle’.

“First on my list is I wanna go to church with my grandma more often because I think it’ll make her happy,” Jamie told them. Her resolution was met with a chorus of ‘aww’ from Lexie and Becca.

“That’s so admirable, Jamie,” Melanie smiled at her.

“We have a good one, Ser,” Becca said before kissing her cheek. The attention was making Jamie blush and Serena couldn’t help smiling uncontrollably at her softie.

“Ser, your turn,” Lexie told her, bringing her back to reality after Jamie finished reading her list.

“I can say I’ll go to the gym or become a better version of myself but, let’s face it, I’m not,” Serena began. “I’ve already accomplished what I set out to do in my career. I have the most wonderful daughter that I love more than anything. I’m in love with two incredible women who love me back. I think the only thing left for me to do is kill Kyle.”

“Hah!” Kyle responded. “You won’t do it. That’s been your resolution for over 25 years now. The same resolution every year and you still haven’t done it. Loser.”

“I think 2022 is finally the year,” Serena said as she lunged across the table at him. As tiny as she was, her homicidal rage filled her with superhuman strength that required both Jamie and Becca to pull her back.

“Serena!” Melanie scolded her. “What did I tell you kids about trying to murder each other?”

“I’m changing my resolution,” Kyle smirked. She noticed he crossed his out and scribbled something underneath. “To hell with training for Tough Mudder. I’m gonna kill Serena.”

“I’m changing mine, too,” Lexie added. She wrote in big letters on a new sheet of paper. ‘Let Kyle and Serena kill each other so I get the inheritance all to myself.’

Serena gritted her teeth. “Can I go again?”

“No!” Melanie responded. “None of you can go again. You’re all terrible children. Just wait until your father gets home from taking Olivia to that zombie paintball shooting thing. You’re all gonna be grounded.”

“You let our daughter use a paintball gun?” Jamie asked her and Serena could have sworn her wife would be clutching her pearls if she were wearing any. “Those are so dangerous.”

“Oh, please,” Lexie scoffed. “It’s not that big of a deal. Ser learned to use an actual shotgun when she was ten. Grandma taught her. The three of us wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t.”

Melanie gently set her wine glass down. “Alexandria, what are you talking about?”

“That time we almost got killed by an axe murderer,” Lexie responded nonchalantly.

“Oh yeah!” Serena chimed in. It was the kind of story that required a few sips of wine so she motioned for Jamie to pour some for her, grateful that the bottle was on the other side of the table and hadn’t gotten knocked down when she lunged at Kyle. “I was ten, Lexie was nine, and Kyle was eight. We were out playing hide and seek in the woods about a mile away from Grandma and Grandpa’s cabin. It was summer and we assumed he was just camping. We had seen people camping out there before. But there was something about the way he walked and the way he wore all black clothes in the summertime so I told Kyle and Lexie to hold still and not make a sound. He had come closer and we were able to see he was holding an axe at his side. I tried to rationalize the axe but what I couldn’t rationalize was the mask he was wearing. It was a clown mask and, for the first time, I regretted how I made Kyle so traumatized by killer clowns. We had to be quiet and completely still. He didn’t know we were there until Kyle－freaking Kyle－started crying.”

“I was eight,” Kyle said defensively. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Umm…how about not crying like a big baby?” Lexie smacked him on the arm. “You could have gotten us all killed. Once you started crying, that’s when he started running toward us so Serena stepped out, cocked her gun, pointed it right at him and said, ‘My granddaddy said I should always shoot first and ask questions later.’ He stood still and I guess he thought Serena was bluffing so he took another step toward us and that’s when Serena fired a warning shot and it grazed his arm. It tore the skin and everything.”

“How is that a warning shot?” Jamie asked, a worried look on her face and Serena could tell that she was afraid to reach for her hand. “Isn’t a warning shot when you fire and don’t hit them? It’s just to scare them off.”

“That was a warning shot,” Serena argued. “If it weren’t, I would have gone for his head or his heart or something.”

“He took off after that,” Lexie continued. “That’s when the three of us went back to the cabin and told Grandma and Grandpa. Grandpa said he didn’t want to get the law involved, so he went out there with his shotgun and we never spoke of it again. Grandpa was a World War 2 veteran. He was no stranger to using a gun and wasn’t exactly an open book, so we didn’t even bother asking questions about it after that.”

“You kids and your stories,” Melanie shook her head. Her wine glass was still half full, but she chugged the rest in just a few seconds. “I believe this about as much as the time you kids said Serena almost got eaten by a robot at Chuck E. Cheese or the time you kids saw a portal to the past in this house and you saw a little kid version of Serena when you were in the kitchen and she stared right at you.”

“Mrs. Benson, I swear to you that last one really did happen,” Becca intervened. “Me, Serena, and Lexie all saw her when we were getting Fruit Roll Ups.”

“You were all in your thirties, eating Fruit Roll Ups on the kitchen floor, and drunk off your ass,” Melanie pointed out. “You actually expect me to believe you?”

“Why don’t you ever believe your children?” Serena argued. “Why would we lie about the time Kyle could have gotten chopped up and brutally murdered by an axe murderer?”

“What?” Kyle asked, wide eyed. “Why would I have been the one to get chopped up? Why not you or Lexie?”

“You were only eight,” Serena reminded him. “Me and Lexie were taller and faster. We didn’t have to run faster than him. We just had to run faster than you. If he caught you, it’d take time to chop you up and, in that time, me and Lexie could run to safety.”

“Yeah, that was kind of our back up plan if the gun didn’t work,” Lexie admitted.

“Well, at least you children had a plan,” Melanie said as she poured herself another glass.

“Mom!” Kyle looked over at her.

“Kyle, lighten up,” Melanie told him after chugging the rest of her second glass. “It’s not like this actually happened. If it did, at least all three of you are still alive to tell the tale.”

“Ser’s got Grandma’s blood running through her veins,” Lexie smiled at her.

“...except Grandma took it just a bit further,” Serena responded, winking at Lexie.

“Grandma killed a man?” Kyle asked in disbelief. “Grandma Benson or Grandma Halversson?”

“Grandma Benson,” Serena scoffed. “Grandma Halversson wasn’t cool enough to kill someone. Remember how she sent Lexie and me to etiquette class when we were little because she said we weren’t proper young ladies?”

“Oh, yeah,” Kyle chuckled. “And then you got kicked out for biting that girl like some kind of feral child because she stole the last cookie from your plate.”

“Aww, it’s okay, babe,” Jamie said as she rubbed her back. “A lot of little kids have a biting problem. What were you…4? 5?”

“Guess again,” Kyle shook his head. “She was nine.”

Serena looked at Lexie, signalling for her to smack Kyle upside the head.

“Grandma Benson was the coolest woman I’ve ever met,” Becca cut in. “She’s like if Ser was born in the 1920s.”

Kyle looked over at his sisters. “Are we gonna skip over the killing part or…”

“She told me this story when I was thirteen,” Serena began. “Right after…you know…it was like this bond the two of us had because the same thing happened to her at thirteen.”

“Babe,” Jamie squeezed her hand. “Are you sure you can tell this right now? You don’t have to.”

“I’ll be fine, Jay, I promise,” Serena squeezed her hand in return just to make sure she’d always be there with her. “It was the 1930s when it happened and rape cases weren’t a priority. They still aren’t, but it was even worse back then. Even if they took her seriously, a dirt poor farm girl and an immigrant one at that wasn’t gonna be at the top of their list. Her parents－our great-grandparents－they believed her and so did some of the other people in town. It was an even more taboo subject then so Grandma just suppressed it or at least she tried to because she felt like there was nothing her parents could do about it anyway. She had nightmares about this man. She thought she saw him everywhere until one day she actually did. He was on a ladder, cleaning the gutters on his house. On that ladder, he looked so vulnerable so she figured this was her only chance to make things right. Grandma went over to him. He looked down at her and she stared at him completely expressionless as she knocked the ladder out from under him. He fell and broke his neck. It was instant. It was all so fucking clean, you know? His death was ruled an accident. He just fell off a ladder. Accidents happen. And that was the first night she slept peacefully since he had attacked her. He couldn’t hurt her or any other girl ever again. There were some people in town who knew what she had done, but neighborhoods were different back then. People understood what had to be done and they looked the other way.” She felt Jamie squeeze her hand again for reassurance and she swallowed hard to keep herself from crying. “Our great-great uncle had some land in California－in Mira Loma－and he offered Great-Grandpa a job on his farm, so that’s how they moved over here. A year later, Grandma was discovered by a talent scout when she was at an ice cream shop with her friends. He literally told her, ‘You’re gonna be a star’ like how you hear people in the 1940s talk in movies. Margrethe Fleischmann became Maggie Miller, became Americanized so she could be a little motion picture sweetheart during the war, ended up starring in movies throughout the ‘40s and ‘50s, got a star on the Walk of Fame and her footprints at Grauman’s, and never looked back. She kept that part hidden for over 60 years until the same thing happened to me. I wish I could have been as brave as she was. Instead of ending his life, all I could do was try to end my own.”

“Ser, come here,” Kyle motioned for her to sit next to him. “Lexie, get out of the way.” As soon as she sat down, she felt his arms wrapped around her. “You’re the bravest woman any of us have ever met. If not for you knowing how to use a gun when you were ten, the three of us wouldn’t even be here today. Like you said in your story, neighborhoods were different. You had a moment where you slipped but other than that you did everything you needed to do to survive since then…for you, for your daughter, for all of us. I know Grandma’s looking down on you right now and she’s so proud of everything you’ve accomplished. We all are.”

“Why do you have to be so nice right when I plan on carrying out my resolution?” Serena asked, hoping to add some levity to the conversation.

“This is just a one-time thing,” he said as he rubbed her back. “Don’t get used to it.” Knowing he was making Serena smile, he decided to continue. “Why don’t we off Lexie instead and then once that’s done we just go to the Colosseum and fight to the death Gladiator style?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Serena laughed.

Melanie held her newly-refilled wine glass up to toast them. “Wow. My two kids who hate each other the most are actually getting along. It truly is a holiday miracle. God bless us one and all.”

#jerena

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anime-fyi · 3 years

Photo

Girlfriend, Girlfriend is a romantic comedy with a twist - and somehow it comes away more redeeming and funny than it deserves.

Lets start at the beginning. Our main character, Naoya, is a first year in high school who recently confessed his long-time love for his friend Saki. Innocent enough, but soon thereafter Naoya is confessed to by another girl, Nagisa, who he instantly gets along with. Therein lies the problem, Naoya is already dating Saki, but he couldn’t reject this amazing new girl either, so what’s he to do? Why, have the two of them go find Saki and talk her into letting him date both of them at the same time. You know, a sane, normal thing people do.

At this point, it sounds terrible, right? The thing is, there’s a despicably innocent bent to this whole situation, and a lot of idiocy. Whether that’s Saki going along with the relationship for starters, Nagisa’s pure innocence and determination that captures both Saki and Naoya, or Naoya’s overly caring nature, it’s like everyone has something to bring to the relationship and make it whole. It also helps that everyone our trio deal with in-universe are either so head over about relationships or plain hands off that nothing can stop this. There’s only one person who acts like the adult in the room, and even they can falter like the rest in the most inopportune time.

Girlfriend, Girlfriend left me absolutely entertained because of how the absurdities grew each episode, commonly fed by Naoya's inexplicable timing, Saki’s far too perverse mind, and Nagisa’s innocence. No matter what happens, you know something crazier is coming, and somehow it’ll bring them closer together, or at least leave things unchanged at worst.

Recommended? Absolutely. Girlfriend, Girlfriend is an incredibly weird situation, paired with characters who bring their own comedic element, mixed with a universe that lets them go to endless extremes without hurting one another. It’s entertaining, at moments heartwarming, and has just the right amount of fanservice to make it feel balanced on the whole.

#chris talks anime #anime review #girlfriend girlfriend #kanojo mo kanojo

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owo-shenanigans · 3 years

Text

So I'd like to make a request if you okay about it. Can i request something like a headcanons with yours fav male characters, from any Danganronpa game you want, and how they Will react to their s/o being a mastermind(or blackened)?

Of course! This was an absolute BLAST to write, though I teared up a few times :’‘) requests are OPEN!

KAZUICHI, GUNDHAM, AND KIIBO WITH A BLACKENED S/O

Word Count: 1.8k

KAZUICHI SOUDA

"No, I have an alibi- I was with Kazuichi!" Your words silenced the others who had begun to gang up on you. The trial was for Sonia's murder. With an unidentified fatal wound on the back of her head, she had been discovered at 7am in the restaurant.

He smiled and nodded, hand in a thumbs up. "Yeah! We were together all night - no way they could have done it!"

At the raised eyebrows from the others, he flushed. "I-I didn't mean-"

At your laugh, he just kept his mouth shut. But your alibi was set in stone.

Half an hour later, you wished you had kept your own mouth shut. Hajime had ripped your alibi to shreds, stating that Kazuichi was a known heavy sleeper- you could have snuck out and back in with him none the wiser.

"But- no, I couldn't have done it-!" You stated desperately, fists clenched. "Where on Earth would I have gotten a baseball bat!? Where could I have-"

Hajime's face at that made you fall silent, a terrible chill falling down your back.

"We never figured out what the murder weapon was, (Y/N)."

You glanced around wildly, but you could see your fate was sealed. Kazuichi's face was the worst one. His eyes were filled with tears, and as he looked at you, you found that you couldn't go on anymore.

"You're right, Hajime. I… I killed Sonia. I sent her a letter asking her to come to the restaurant at 3 in the morning, posing as you. I told her… I told her that I'd found a newspaper article about her country, and that I thought she should read it. When she arrived… She never saw my face. I snuck up behind her and… That's it."

You gripped your podium, hands shaking at the sounds of Gundham’s hamsters squeaking- almost overshadowing the faint cries from their master.

The votes came in- all but one for you.

The moment you were released from your podiums, Kazuichi dashed over to you, hands gripping yours.

"(Y/N), you- you- why? How could you do this to me? To all of us?"

He was choking back sobs, pink hair stuck in the tear tracks down his face. You gently reached out and touched them, and he leaned in to your touch.

"I'm so sorry Kazuichi. But they… What I saw… I knew I had to get off the island. I couldn't live without knowing the motive was fake."

Monokuma giggled in his obnoxiously high pitched voice.

"But now you'll never know, because it's PUNISHMENT TIME!"

Choking back your own sobs, you gave Kazuichi one last hug, one last desperate kiss.

"Get off this island. Get off this island for me."

The collar came and snapped around your neck, tearing you apart from him forever.

GUNDHAM TANAKA

"Mahiru was always hanging around you, Beta Bitch! I bet you killed her because you knew you would never be as kind as her, or as sweet as her, or as… as… WAAAAAAAAH!"

Hiyoko let out an ear splitting wail, as you started to try and defend yourself. But before you let out a word, the man across from you spoke up.

"Silence, Sea Urchin! For I was with thy darkness at the time of the crime. We were supplying sustenance to the caged creatures. They could not have hurt the now deceased."

You couldn't help smiling at his wordy, yet correct response. "We were feeding the animals at the farm," you translated. "And he would have seen me leaving, as there's only one exit. The whole place is surrounded by a fence, after all."

Hajime, who seemed to be leading the trial, nodded at that, and the discussion moved on. Once everyone's eyes were off you, you let out a sigh of relief.

There. Your alibi was safe. You were safe. You could- you could go home, and make sure that the video was lying.

Unnoticed by you, a little girl in blonde pigtails was staring at you. And she had a scowl on her face.

Half an hour later, everyone had gone around in circles three times. Nagito was doing his usual obscuration of the investigation. Not that you were complaining.

Wiping the sweat off your brow, you didn't hear what Hiyoko said through your rushing blood.

"So, I know you idiots let Beta Bitch off the hook because she couldn't have left the farm, but are you all ignoring the giant hole in their stupid argument?"

Everyone zeroed in on Hiyoko, who paled a moment before tossing her head.

"There's a literal hole in their argument."

"I agree with that!" Hajime shouted. "There's a little hole in the fence, right next to the hotel."

You had snapped back in at this point, hands shaking.

"But- there's also a- a fence around the hotel! I couldn't get thro-"

"That's wrong!" He shouted again, and you've never hated him more than in this moment. "Yes, there is a fence, but you didn't have to go through- not with the murder weapon you chose. With a relic sword from the library, all you had to do was stab through the fence."

"I found hay on the sword…. I think." Chiaki interjected. "I guess you hid the sword in the animal food until Gundham wasn't looking…. And then you left through the hole in the fence…."

From there, they tore apart your alibi, destroyed any chance you had of leaving the island.

But the look on Gundham’s face dried up any arguments you had. Every time you opened your mouth, his Deva's chitted at you, quiet and yet louder than Hajime's closing argument.

The votes came in- every single person had voted for you, except a lone two against Hajime. Hajime didn't even have the decency to appear offended by the votes, his expression pained as he stared at you.

"It was the motive video." You confessed, and you shut your eyes to keep out the sight of them all staring. "I had- I had to go home. I had to make sure it was fake. I knew it couldn't be real, because- because-"

Gundham took your hand gently and you broke down into his arms. Clutching at him like a lifeline, you sobbed out the rest of your story.

"I'm so, so sorry, Gundham. I never should have used you. The video isn't an excuse." You let out a watery chuckle. "None of you fell for it, did you?"

Pulling your motive video out, you tucked it into Gundham's jacket. "Check for me, will you? Make sure… make sure it's not true."

"Sweetne-" he started, but Monokuma interrupted with a feral grin.

"Real or fake, now you'll never know, because it's PUNISHMENT TIME!"

Monokuma tore you from Gundham, your watery smile the last he ever saw of you.

KIIBO

"Sorry, Shuichi, but I couldn't have done it." You shrugged at his accusation, internally sweating enough to fill a pool.

"I was with Kiibo at the time; I couldn't have left the kitchen without him seeing me."

"And I didn't see them leave the kitchen, let alone the dining room." Kiibo stated this almost proudly, and you had to fight off a wave of affection for the man. You couldn't doubt yourself- not now. Not when you had already done what you did. There was no going back.

"I couldn't have killed Kokichi."

At your words, everyone glanced at the portrait of the boy. None of them had liked him, sure, and he had screwed with them through the trials… but some of the things he said held the hidden piece necessary to understand the plot.

You shifted in your podium- his photographed eyes almost seemed to be following you. Kiibo caught your hand and squeezed it, offering a smile to you. Giving a tremulous smile in turn, you tried to calm your heart rate.

An hour later, you were shaking all over.

"You said your alibi was Kiibo, but Miu said THIS-" and he held up an electronic device- "was missing from her lab. It went missing this morning, and was found in the back of the kitchen cupboard. And the kitchen clock was a few minutes off. My theory? You set off a pulse to turn Kiibo off, which accidentally turned off the clock as well. You left the dining room, entered the warehouse, and strangled Kokichi."

You gulped loudly, the sound echoing in your head. Glancing around wildly, you were met with people convinced of your guilt. Turning to your right, you saw Kiibo- and you knew in that moment that if he were able to cry, he would be sobbing.

The look on his face made you give up.

"(Y/N).... It's not…. It's not true, is it?"

You looked down at your podium, your lack of an answer an answer nonetheless.

The votes came in, every single vote going your way. Even Kiibo, huh? Not like you didn't deserve it.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you spoke.

"I…. I just had to get out of here. I was going crazy. All the- all the death, the executions- I knew I was going to be next! So I…. I went to the warehouse. I was psyching myself out, by that point. But then…. Then Kokichi-

"He kept taunting me. Saying that- that he knew someone was planning to kill me, and that I was so weak and pathetic that they'd succeed and I-!

"I strangled him. I came back to myself with the rope wrapped around his neck, and he wasn't responding! I came back to the kitchen and…. And I hid the electronic in the back of the drawer. And that's it. That's how I killed Kokichi Oma."

You risked a glance over at Kiibo, and your heart sank. He was merely staring at you, no emotion on his face.

"For what it's worth… I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Kiibo. I shouldn't have used you for my alibi."

Drawing in a breath, you choked on it when he pulled you into a hug. Pulling back, he touched his forehead to yours, your hands clutched in his.

"My inner voice is wrong. I…. I'll escape. I'll escape for you, (Y/N). I promise. I swear to you."

You let out a half sob, but you couldn't stop a final smile at how pure hearted he was.

"Don't… don't make the same mistake I did. Defeat whoever trapped us in here. Escape… escape without destroying yourself in the process, my dearest Kiibo."

"Oh, how heartwarming." Monokuma crooned in his high pitched voice. "You'll be warm enough in a whole lot of other places soon, because it's PUNISHMENT TIME!"

The collar snapped around your neck and tore you from his hands. He reached out to you desperately, but it was too late.

#danganronpa x reader #kazuichi x reader #gundham x reader #kiibo x reader #danganronpa imagines

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hillariat · 3 years

Text

Bubbline fic finished!

Posted the final chapter of my Bubbline fic, check it out!

Also huge thanks to @hehe-food for beta-ing both the 3 and the final chapter

Unexpected

Setting: Highschool AU

Status | Wordcount: Complete | 5,770

Tags: Fluff, emotionally confused PB.

Summary: Marceline confesses to her long time friend Bonnie. It takes an unexpected turn and, just as things were back to normal, takes another one.

AKA It's Bonnie's gay awakening.

Read it on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/30298620/chapters/74678148 OR down below

The hurried pat-pat of Bonnie’s footsteps echoed through the hallways. Her legs, exhausted from a student council meeting that dragged on for far too long, begged her to slow down by at least 30%. She ignored them. She really didn’t want to keep Marceline waiting any longer than she had to after all.

When Bonnie reached the music room, she heard a familiar tune being played. Smiling to herself, she pushed the door open and saw Marceline perched upon a table and chair in a seat-footstool combo, strumming on her bass guitar. The raven-haired girl turned to Bonnie and smirked.

"’Sup Brainlord, how’s the prep meet?"

“Terrible, Becky wouldn’t shut up about adding more “tasteful” food to the school breakfast program even though that’s clearly out of our budget. It literally took us over half an hour just to move on to another topic.” Bonnie sighed and continued. “If she wasn’t so high up the pecking order, I’d have kicked her out. Personally.”

Marceline nudged her shoulder.

“I could do it for you”

“And be expelled? No thanks. As much as I hate Becky, I don’t think you leaving is worth it.”

Her heart lurched, practically begging to be freed from her chest. She opted to shrug it off, instead turning away from Bonnie to start packing her bass.

“Maybe I could do a prank instead. Y’know something that says, ‘fuck off from student council or else.’”

Bonnie raised her brows.

“Oh, and what would this prank be?”

By the time the girls left the school building, several rotten sandwiches and a passive aggressively typed note were left in Becky’s locker.

__________________________________________________________

"Thanks again for waiting up for me."

Bonnie entered the front passenger seat of Marceline’s car, inhaling the familiar scent of leather, strawberry and wood that probably came from an acoustic instrument lying around somewhere.

“Dude not this again. I told you, you don’t have to thank me every time I wait up for you. It’s like, our thing to hang out on Tuesdays anyways.”

Bonnie buckled in her own seatbelt whilst Marceline started the engine.

“Still, I appreciate the gesture. Not everyone would wait 2 hours just to have afternoon tea with their friend.”

Marceline felt a blush threaten to reveal itself on her cheeks. She really needed to get those butterflies in her ribs under control. She raised her hand, the other hand focused on driving out of the parking lot. “No. Stop with the sap. You’re turning me into a marshmallow.”

“You’re already a marshmallow, Marshmaline”

She gave a playful whack, accompanied by a glare. “Shut up! I am not a marshmallow, I’m too punk rock!”

Bonnie rolled her eyes, unfazed by the other’s glare. They had long lost their terrorizing effect on her. “Sure you are. Oh! That reminds me”

She dug through her bag, fishing out a pack of guitar strings and handing it to Marceline. “Gauge 9 right?”

“Wha- Bon. You didn’t have to.”

Bonnie waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense. I distinctly remember a certain someone complaining about forgetting to buy them for 4th week in a row yesterday.” She turned away from Marceline, opting to look at the passing traffic. “and… well, I just happen to pass by the music store when I was at the mall with Lady yesterday.”

Marceline gave her a heartwarming smile.

“Aww, thanks mom”

Bonnie huffed.

“What would you do without me?”

Marceline snorted, smile still evident on her face.

“Forgetting them for another week probably.”

Bonnie chuckled.

“Damn right”

__________________________________________________________

The girls reached their destination, a quaint little café tucked in a quiet neighborhood near their school. Marceline introduced it to Bonnie a while ago, insisting that the red velvet cakes were “to die for”. Bonnie wouldn’t put it the same way, but she did admit that the food was “more than acceptable”. The place quickly became their favorite hangout spot, next to the diner ran by their friend’s ( Finn’s) parents. Though that diner was more of a clique hangout spot. This was more of a 'just them' spot.

They ordered their drinks, an apple pie to share and of course, a slice of red velvet cake for Marceline. They sat at their table, indulging in said items whilst making idle conversation, ranging from the food to Marceline’s music to school gossip.

Bonnie noticed how her shoulders were a little tense, how she would pick and flick her own fingers and how her eyes wandered in a way that said her thoughts weren’t entirely focused on the present. Marceline was clearly bothered by something.

The Bonnie of 5 years ago would’ve pried her incessantly, but now she knew better. Marceline was the kind of person that needed space to figure things out. She would tell Bonnie what was eating at her when she was good and ready. Any prying on Bonnie’s end would lead to scathing remarks and, if allowed to escalate, a fight. Hence, despite the well-meaning itch that urged her to figure out what was bothering her best friend, Bonnie didn’t ask. Respecting Marceline’s boundaries was more important.

When Marceline’s giggling fit died down after a joke about a certain lemon-faced principal , she took a deep breath. She warily made eye contact with Bonnie.

“I need to tell you something. Its -It’s important”

“Okay”. Bonnie nodded and kept her eyes at Marceline expectantly, conveying that Marceline had her full undivided attention. A long, pregnant pause ensued. Bonnie was tempted to break the silence, but Marceline got there first.

“I’m gay.”

Okay. That wasn’t what Bonnie expected. Not that there was anything wrong with being gay, no not at all. Bonnie was just very unfamiliar with coming-out-of-the-closet etiquette. After all, most of her friends were straight.

She was clearly out of her element here. How should she respond to this? Did Marceline want a boisterous congratulation? Or a simple acceptance? In the end, Bonnie did what she always did when she was uncertain about things.

“Okay, what am I supposed to do with that information?”

Marceline raised her brows in surprise. She was expecting more of a reaction to that. Bonnie had just…. rolled with it. Maybe her fears were indeed unfounded. Maybe. It was still too early to tell.

Marceline took a deep breath, gathering what little courage it could provide and continued.

“I’m gay for you. As in, I like you. Like, like-like you.”

For a moment, Bonnie was tempted to make fun of Marceline’s unironic use of “like-like” but knew better than to do that. Instead, she was contemplating her response to it. She knew exactly what she should say, she knew her answer to that obvious unsaid question, but the vulnerable expression on Marceline’s face made her hesitate. Marceline looked so fragile, as if a gentle breeze could shatter her. The only other time Bonnie saw the other like this was when Marceline’s mother had passed.

Bonnie furrowed her brows, bit her bottom lip, and took a deep breath. It was definitely going to hurt, but she was good at making tough decisions for the people she cared about.

“I … don’t feel the same way. I’ve only ever seen you as a friend. I’m sorry Marceline.”

She could see Marceline shattering right in front of her. The girl’s shoulders slumped, a frown formed on her face and, most troubling of all; the light in the girl’s eyes dimmed. For a moment Bonnie wanted to take her words back, to make Marceline beam instead with an acceptance. But she knew from experience that giving false hope was worse than a flat-out rejection, so she kept her mouth shut.

In a flash, Marceline’s demeanor switched. She had a smile plastered on her face and her posture likewise improved. Perhaps it was a prepared response, as if she already knew this was the probable outcome. Though her newfound demeanor couldn’t quite reach her eyes.

“It’s cool. It’s cool.”

She paused as if unsure as to whether she should utter the next line. She opened her mouth, her voice wavered before she could even muster the first word.

“We can still be friends, right?” Accompanied with, again, a vulnerable expression. But this time it came from a girl who was already kicked down.

“Of course.” and Marceline wasn’t the only one who wanted to believe that.

They fell into silence, neither girl looking at each other anymore. There were no more words to be said on the matter. Bonnie glanced at the clock in the café. Time ticked by slowly, as if a second was enough time to write an entire thesis.

She searched for a change of topic, not wanting the silence to stretch into awkward territory. Her eyes wandered the surroundings and found it on their table. She gestured to the item.

“Are you going to finish that cake?” Bonnie’s fork was already threateningly hovering above the slice of cake.

Marceline smirked and hoped she didn’t misread Bonnie’s seemingly playful tone.

“I swear, one day you’re gonna get diabetes Bon. You’re such a sugar slut.”

Bonnie completely ignored her friend’s warning and grabbed the last bit of cake, eating it with a slight smile on her face.

“And you – She pointed to Marceline with her empty fork- are distasteful.”

Marceline laughed at that, the tension now fully leaving her. Bonnie could say the same, though she was just smiling at her friend.

Things were going to be okay.

Chapter 2: Confusion

The coffee cup made a clack as it landed on the table.

“Figured you’d want this.” Marceline flashed a toothy grin, though this one was softer than the usual mischievous one. Still, it was one Bonnie was well acquainted with.

Her stomach squirmed. She blinked. Odd. She didn’t remember having shellfish the night before.

“Uhhm, thanks.” She didn’t know why she fumbled. Marceline always got her coffee for their afternoon study sessions. She took a sip. Caramel Macchiato with an extra shot and drizzle, just the way she liked it, though for some reason, today it tasted a little sweeter.

Marceline plotted herself next to Bonnie and started rummaging through her bag. “So, what’s on the agenda today Bonbon?”

Bonnie scribbled in her notebook, having already started on her work. “Maths. We have 2 assignments due soon so I figured we should start.”

Marceline nodded and got her stuff out. For a good half hour, the only sounds that came from their table were the scrawls of pens, the clicking of calculators, turning of pages and occasionally, some curse words muttered under Marceline’s breath. Eventually though, the relative silence was broken.

“Hey, what’d you get for 3c?”

“69.3”

Bonnie saw a toothy grin appear on Marceline’s face. She frowned and shot a glare in return. That girl better not do wh –

“Thirst much, Bonnibel?”

She groaned. “Really Marceline? Get your head out of the gutter.”

Marceline shrugged. “Hey, I’m not the one writing innuendos as answers.”

“Not my fault the teacher likes putting innuendos as answers”.

Marceline chuckled, then she glanced over to Bonnie’s notebook. “Anyways, how’d you get that number?” She leaned over to get a closer look at Bonnie’s homework, now just close enough for Bonnie to smell what shampoo the other used. It was strawberry. Bonnie took note of Marceline’s face, how her brows scrunched in concentration, how her green eyes always held a beautiful shade of green, how her raven hair cascaded down her face, framing her sharp jawline and how her lips pouted at a formula she obviously didn’t understand. Bonnie wondered if those lips felt soft. Wait, what?

“Earth to Bonnie? You there? Hello?” Marceline waved her hand in front of her face.

“Huh? Oh. Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said what’s the deal with this guy? -She gestured to some convoluted looking math term- How did it get to this?”

“Oh, well..” Bonnie went on to explain how she derived the expression, going through it step by step as she usually did, pushing away any strange thoughts of the girl next to her. They were just a fluke after all. Nothing more than spontaneous curiosity.

__________________________________________________________

It happened again a couple of days later. Marceline was casually humming along to a punk rock song in her car with Bonnie seated next to her, quietly scrolling through her phone. The song was crass, mocking, harsh even, filled with edginess that stereotyped the genre. But somehow when the same song came from Marceline’s vocal cords, hummed in a low tone, it sounded so much more…beautiful. Smooth. Gentle. It felt like a cloud was encompassing her, warm and welcoming.

Bonnie felt her insides turn to jello. Strange how she never noticed Marceline's voice having this effect.

She frowned. Something was up. Lightning never struck twice in the same place after all.

“You got your thinking face on Bonnie. What’s up?”

“Oh. Nothing, I was just zoning out”

Marceline smirked, “Lemme guess, thinking of another experiment? Or wait, OH. Trying to answer one of the greatest mysteries of life.”

Bonnie glanced at her lap. Her hands were fiddling with loose jean threads. “You could say that.”

__________________________________________________________

The rest of the week, and the next, followed the same pattern. Bonnie and Marceline would hang out and Marceline would do something utterly mundane and Bonnie would find herself getting the squirmies. Her insides would twist and turn in all sorts of funny ways and she would find her cheeks embarrassingly warm.

She found herself lying down on her own bed, gazing at the ceiling with a half bolster clutched in her arms and contemplating the confusing experiences of the previous weeks. This was the 5th night in a row she had done this.

She has had both male and female suitors confessing to her before, though none of them were as close to her as Marceline was. However, she never gave them more than a second’s worth of thought as she preferred to utilize her brain’s resources on more important things. Chiefly; her schoolwork, independent science projects and her student council duties.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

Could she…like Marceline?

She frowned; brows scrunched and lips upturned in confusion.

She had never experienced a crush on a girl before. What she had told Marceline was nothing but honest, she genuinely had never seen the other girl in a light that wasn’t platonic. Marceline was indeed only a dear friend to her. Nothing had changed between them, so why did her insides turn to mush when Marceline did something as mundane as laugh at her own joke or open a door for her. It didn’t make any sense.

Bonnie’s clock read 02:14am and she figured she should get some sleep before school. With heavy lidded eyes, Bonnie concluded that she should do what she always did when she was uncertain about things.

__________________________________________________________

Bonnie found her in the music room, as usual. She was alone. Good. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and gripped her bag strap tightly. She didn’t know why she was the one who felt terrified, after all she was the one planning on basically cornering Marceline with a potentially awkward situation. She took a deep breath and entered the room.

Marceline turned to her, ceasing the strum of her bass. She flashed a warm smile. “Hey Bon, what’s up?”

“Marceline, do you want to go on a date?” At the sight of Marceline’s confused face, she added “With me. Romantically.”

Marceline raised her brows, even more confused than before. “Dude, I thought you weren’t into me that way? You said so like 2 weeks ago.”

She was right. Bonnie only hoped that her persuasion skills were good enough. “While it is true that I've never seen you in that way before, I don’t think it’d be a bad idea to try?” She paused, not really sure how to phrase it less awkwardly. “So, let’s go on a romantic date and see how that goes.”

Marceline looked downright offended by that offer. Was there some homosexual etiquette Bonnie was missing out on?

“I don’t need a pity date.”

Oh. OH. Oh god was that it how it sounded like? Bonnie knew she had to rectify the situation and soon.

“No no. It’s not that. It’s…“ Bonnie broke eye contact with Marceline, instead favoring the ground. She wasn’t sure why she felt so flustered, maybe it was because admitting the truth was embarrassing. “I’ve been thinking about us. How I feel about you, ever since that day you confessed.” Bonnie started fiddling with her hands.

Marceline tensed. She didn’t know where this was going, but she was paranoid and listened to every echoing thought in her head that said this was going to end up bad. Crap. She thought she was out of the woods after that day in the café.

”and I know I said that I hadn’t felt anything but platonic towards you before, and that’s true. But now I’m not so sure.”

Marceline furrowed her brows. What did she just say, was she implying that – “I…I might like you romantically. Or not. I don’t know. I was hoping that going on a date would help me figure things out. Its more for me really.”

Marceline blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Bonnie had…mixed feelings for her? No, rather Bonnie wasn’t sure how she felt. Marceline released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding until now. It wasn’t an ideal outcome, but it was certainly not the worst that could have come from her confession to the redhead.

Taking Marceline’s prolonged silence as a no, Bonnie continued. “I’m sorry. It was selfish of me to even suggest that considering everything you’ve been through. Just forge-“

Marceline raised her hand to stop her babbling. “I get it. Figuring out your sexuality is hard and you’re not exactly swimming in gay friends. I'm down for it. But you have to promise me this.” She looked straight into Bonnie’s eyes, holding down probably the most serious stare she could muster. “The moment you figure out your feelings for me, you have to tell me. Even if it hurts me. Its just-I just need to know as soon as possible.” Her voice wavered. “Please.”

Bonnie nodded, understanding the gravity of this.

Marceline let out a huge breath, visibly relaxing. She smiled.

“Alright. You free Friday night?”

Bonnie smiled back at her. “Yeah, pick me up at 7?”

Chapter 3: Consolidation

Bonnie didn’t think she would be one of those girls. The ones that would empty their entire closet and prance around their clothing littered room wondering why nothing there was good enough for their date. But here she was doing exactly just that.

It was just Marceline after all. They’ve hung out a billion times before.

Except it wasn’t just Marceline was it?

Bonnie groaned; this was infuriating. She dug through another pile of clothes on her bed, burying herself in thoughts of what to wear instead of trying to unpack the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

In the end, she settled for a white sundress. Well, “settle” was a stretch considering she was going to change again if she hadn’t been interrupted by a ring from the front door. She rushed out of her bedroom, hurriedly making her way down wooden stairs with a tap-tap from her feet.

“Is that Marceline?” Her mother called out from a distant room. Knowing her it was probably the living room. Bonnie did get her love of sappy cable TV rom-coms from her after all.

“Yeah, I got it! I’ll be back by midnight.” Bonnie replied. “Alright, text me if your plans change.” After a brief moment of silence, she added, “Oh, and keep yourselves out of trouble okay! I do not want to hear a peep about either of you from the cops again!”

Bonnie giggled, reminiscing that exact event from 6 months ago.

“Oh. Wow.” Bonnie’s gaze was fixated on the sunset, a bleary mix of reds, oranges and yellows fading into dark blues that casted a looming shadow, outlining the town center. Bonnie and Marceline were on top of a ruined four story building without a roof which was nestled on top of a steep hill, giving them a brilliant vantage point that overlooked the entire t-

“Right.” Marceline flashed a cocky smirk. “Told you this place had the best view.” And she wasn’t wrong.

Bonnie scoffed. “Well sorry I thought otherwise when you dragged me through a forest, a chain link fence and an abandoned construction site.”

Marceline snorted. “What did you think I was gonna do?”

“Kill me and the hide the body?”

“Pfft, if I did that, whose homework would I copy of off?”

“Uh,” She tapped her chin, actually giving the question some thought. “Finn’s?”

Marceline looked at her with bewilderment, one eyebrow quirked above the other. “Dude, you know the whole point of copying off someone else is to pass, not fail.” Bonnie huffed, “Okay, fair point. But – "

“Hey, what are you two doing here?! Get down now!”

They snapped their heads to the source of the yelling. Down on the ground floor stood a middle-aged security guard, practically steaming with red-hot fury. Both girls looked at each other, conveying some unsaid message to each other, seemingly in agreement.

Then they ran.

After hopping through several cinder blocks and steel beams sprinkled with a few swears and complaints about thinking the place was abandoned, they got to a chain-linked fence. Knowing that they were pressed for time with the security guard hot on their tail, they opted to try to squeeze through a tiny gap on the bottom of the fence instead of climbing over it as they did before.

Bonnie crawled through just fine, merely getting some scuffs and dirt marks on her pullover. Marceline on the other hand got stuck, her “fashionable” ripped tank top getting caught on stray fence wiring. Both girls rushed to untangle Marceline, but with the stomp-stomp of booted footsteps coming ever closer to them, Marceline pulled Bonnie’s hands away from herself.

“Bon. I’m fine, just.. go ahead without me”

“But- “ Marceline pushed her away, stopping any argument Bonnie would give out.

“Go! I’ll text you when I’m home.” Bonnie stared at her for a moment in concern. Her eyes darted back and forth between her friend and the direction of the encroaching footsteps. Then she blurted,

“Shut the fuck up” and scrambled to get her friend out.

They both got caught.

After a phone call, a drive and long drawn-out conversation between Bonnie's mom and the police, both girls found themselves on the receiving end of a stern mother's gaze whilst seated on Bonnie's couch.

"Explain."

Before Bonnie could get a word out, Marceline started. "It was my idea Mrs. Butler, I dragged Bonnie to the construction site up at the hill near the end of town. I wanted to show her the sunset from up there.”

"The abandoned one?"

Marceline gave a sheepish smile "Well it turns out it wasn’t so abandoned after all".

Mrs. Butler wasn’t so amused. “Uh-huh.” She glanced at Bonnie, who was squirming in her seat from nervousness. "Bonnie, I know it wasn’t your plan but you still tagged along. You’re grounded for a week. That also means no access to the garage lab."

Bonnie groaned but didn’t feel the need to protest that decision. It was fairly light considering they did get the police involved.

Her mom turned to Marceline. "And Marceline. It’s late so you can stay over, but in the morning, I am going to have a talk with your father, got it?"

"Yes ma'am."

“Good, now I’m going to head to bed, it's late. Bonnie, be a dear and help set up the couch for Marceline” With that, Mrs. Butler went to her bedroom. Bonnie and Marceline started setting up the couch in silence, bringing out blankets and extra pillows from a nearby closet. Marceline wondered if this would be a good time to say what was on her mind, but was interrupted by Bonnie asking her to grab the duvet. When she dragged the duvet to the couch, Bonnie noticed her stumble a little. And then again. She was limping.

“Marceline, your leg!”

“Huh?” Marceline glanced down, seeing a small trail of blood running from her knees. Her very battered and cut knees. “Oh shit”

Bonnie immediately pushed Marceline to sit down on the couch, then ran off into the kitchen muttering something about alcohol. She then came back with a small first aid kit and began treating Marceline’s wounds. Marceline figured this was as good of a time as any.

“Sorry I got you in trouble. I didn’t know there was security there, I checked out the whole place and didn’t even see any keep out signs.” She fiddled nervously with the duvet below her.

Bonnie flashed a warm smile. “It’s fine, just…” She glanced down at Marceline’s knee and frowned, then looked up and made eye contact with her. “Be more careful next time?”

Marceline gave a reassuring smile.

“I will.”

Ding-ding-ding-ding! God, Marceline was one hell of an impatient girl. Bonnie rushed to open the door, silently cursing herself for zoning out for so long.

Marceline was clad in a red-black plaid flannel paired with a dark grey top and ripped black jeans. 'Classic Marceline,' thought Bonnie. Though in the raven-haired girl’s words it would’ve been classic gay, whatever that meant.

Marceline started, “Hey.” She flashed a gentle, earnest smile. She can do this. She’s good at playing cool. She’s the coolest person in school. Totally cool. Absolutely not having a heart attack right now.

“Hey.”

“You look great tonight.”

Bonnie smiled, soft and sweet. “Thanks, you look nice too.” She gestured to the other.

Marceline snorted. “Pfft, this is my normal outfit, what are you talking about?”

She smirked. Oh, it was all too easy to tease Marceline. “Maybe I think you look nice normally.”

Marceline spluttered into some incoherent murmurs. Her cheeks flushed crimson red and she scrambled to look at anywhere except Bonnie. Bonnie found it amusing.

She noticed that the raven-haired girl had her hands tucked behind her back, as if hiding an object from her view. Before she could ask though, Marceline beat her to it, having recovered from her gay panic.

“I, uhh, got you flowers.” She presented a bouquet of soft pink and white roses.

"Flowers?"

Marceline averted her gaze, instead staring at the small scuff marks on her shoes."Yeah. Figured I'd, uhmm....give you the full date experience." But the flustered cheeks and wavering voice said there was more to it than that.

Bonnie felt a heavy pang strike through her chest. She didn’t say anything about it though, figuring that it was a little too late to back out now. "Thanks."

She took the flowers into the kitchen and quickly deposited them into an empty vase. Then she rushed back out and hopped into Marceline’s car and they drove off. She turned to Marceline. “So, where are we going?”

Marceline smirked. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“At least tell me if it's legal. I promised my mom I wouldn’t get in trouble with the cops tonight.” She crossed her arms and pouted. Marceline thought it was adorable and wondered if she should comment. She didn’t.

Instead, she let out a cackle. “Nah it's totally legal. Don’t worry about it.”

They continued the drive in relatively peaceful silence, with only the radio to fill in the space. Bonnie’s gaze fell to her lap, where she fiddled with the hem of her dress. This was it. She was going on a date. With her best friend. Marceline was her date. Huh. Sounds weird.

Chapter 4: Conclusion

Bonnie glanced at the building, eyes widening at the familiar sight of the local science museum. "I thought you didn’t like science?"

Marceline shrugged, "I don’t. But I'm down for learning about the things you like.” She flashed a gentle smile and Bonnie's insides went into a tumbling frenzy of butterflies and thrumming heartbeats. “Now c’mon, this place closes at 9!"

Before her insides could murder her further, she found herself being dragged to the building, hands intertwined and all. Bonnie couldn’t bring herself to complain.

They grabbed their tickets from the ticketing booth and then trailed through the museum, weaving through various exhibits from electrochemistry to evolution to tectonic plates. They stopped by an anatomy exhibit; Bonnie having decided that the musculoskeletal system was an absolute must-see.

“Oooooh, the knee joint!”

Marceline quirked her brows, “What makes this one so special?”

"Well, it is the largest joint in our body, and y’know, THE joint that enables us to walk.”

“Yeah, but isn’t it like, weak? I always hear about people having busted knees or something.”

“That is true. That’s mostly because it does endure a lot of force when we’re using it, about one and a half times our body weight when walking and eight times when squatting.” Bonnie paused for a moment. ”Oh! And it’s also susceptible to numerous pathological conditions like arthritis”

Marceline hummed absentmindedly, then said, “Heh, y’know, you’re just like osteoarthritis” -she turned to her and flashed a toothy grin-” ’Cause you make my knees weak.”

Bonnie stared at her as if she grew another head. A pause ensued, just as awkward and confused as Bonnie’s expression. It went on for a bit, what with Marceline having no clue how to handle it and Bonnie trying to piece together what in the world just happened. She eventually broke the silence with a snort and a smile.

"Well," She moved closer to the other, interlinking their arms together. "You’re like a cation because you’re positively attractive.”

Marceline doubled down, practically filling the museum with cackles. Her cheeks were tinted red, though whether that was from being flustered or from the strain of laughter Bonnie couldn’t tell.

“Omg Bonnie that’s…” She took a breath in an attempt to get her chuckles to die down. ”That’s so you.” Another fit of laughter hit her.

Bonnie floundered, muttering a brief string of indecipherable words and turning away from Marceline in a vain attempt to hide her beet-red face.

“Hey, hey, c’mon. I didn’t say it was bad. It's….” Marceline rubbed her neck, eyes purposely averting Bonnie’s gaze. “It’s actually really cute.” She flashed a tentative smile. Her cheeks mirrored Bonnie’s.

Bonnie pouted, “Geez, you really can’t take a compliment, can you?”

“Welp, sorry, my parents are as emotionally constipated as I am.”

Bonnie chuckled, then tugged the other along to another exhibit.

They wandered through the exhibits one by one, with Bonnie rambling on about the four ventricles of the heart and some Newtonian mechanics and Marceline occasionally quipping in with a flirt or a joke (usually a pun).

“You wanna go watch a movie? I heard they’re premiering the remake of the Thing at the old theatre downtown” Marceline asked. They had finished a full round at the Museum, just in the nick of time as an announcement declared that the museum was closing. Now they were making their way to the carpark.

Bonnie was a little surprised that Marceline would have heard of the Thing. She didn’t seem like someone who would keep up with Sci-fi remakes, then again, the Thing was also a horror, that could explain it.

Bonnie shrugged. “Sure, sounds good.” She glanced down at their still intertwined hands. It was all still surreal to her. She really was on a date. With Marceline.

“Bon? You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Just…uhh, zoning out. Yep. Heh.” She really, really wished she was better at lying. Marceline raised her brows but didn’t comment any further, to Bonnie’s relief.

__________________________________________________________

They wound up seated in a small theatre, with Marceline sipping on her soda and Bonnie occasionally munching on popcorn. Bonnie glanced at Marceline, wondering if she should be doing something at this moment. Their arms were still interlinked, still a fairly platonic gesture. She wondered if she should push it, cross the platonic boundary a little bit more. After all Marceline clearly had with her incessant flirting. She supposed she should reciprocate by initiating something too.

And so, cautiously, Bonnie leaned in, slowly placing her head on the crook of Marceline's shoulder. Marceline tensed for a moment, and for that moment Bonnie wondered if she should retreat. But then Marceline relaxed and leaned in.

Cuddling wasn't something the girls ever did together in their friendship. Physical affection, whilst there with casual hand-holding, a hug here and there and such, was always kept at a respectable distance. This was new and if the butterflies in Bonnie’s stomach were anything to go by, it was a good kind of new.

Maybe dating wasn’t so weird after all.

__________________________________________________________

Marceline brought Bonnie to her doorstep in silence. Not the comfortable kind that they often shared. No, this was tense, heavy, as though there was a huge anvil weighing them down. Both of them clearly knew why, it was the end of their date after all. Neither of them really wanted to start, but, feeling obligated because this was her idea, Bonnie did.

"As cliche as it sounds, I really had a good time tonight." After a short pause, she added, "I'd like to do it again sometime."

Marceline’s brows shot up into her hairline. "Wait does this mean -"

“Ehp!” She croaked. Despite knowing what Marceline's reaction would be, Bonnie still found a lump rising in her throat. She took a breath and tried again.

“Yeah.” Bonnie smiled tentatively.

Marceline’s face went through various stages of metamorphosis, from confusion to disbelief to being completely flustered red. It finally settled on a dumbfounded smile with rose-tinted cheeks.

“That’s, wow.”

Bonnie giggled and crossed her arms. She just couldn’t resist the opportunity presented. “Really? You got your crush to like you back and all you can say is ‘wow’. Real smooth Marceline.”

“Sh-shut up!”

Bonnie could practically hear the pout from her. She snickered and Marceline desperately scrambled for a change in topic. She found one and smirked.

"Does this mean I can kiss you? Coz you were so obvious with the staring just now"

Bonnie scoffed. “We both know I wasn’t staring, nice try though. As for the other thing,” She averted her gaze and gave a non-committal shrug. “Maybe on the second date, or the third”

Marceline grinned. “Ooooh, there’s gonna be a third date now?”

“Only if you behave.” She deadpanned.

Marceline cackled, her voice echoing throughout the silent neighborhood. Soon enough, Bonnie couldn’t help but join and now in between the quiet of suburbia were the giggles of two girls.

They kissed on the second date.

#bubbline #bubbline fanfiction #bubbline fanfic #adventure time #adventure time fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #princess bubblegum #marceline #marceline the vampire queen #atimers #at #at fanfic #at fanfiction

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recentanimenews · 2 years

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Re: ZERO ~Starting Life in Another World~, Vol. 18

By Tappei Nagatsuki and Shinichirou Otsuka. Released in Japan by MF Bunko J. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Dale DeLucia.

I always enjoy the books in this series that are more about rallying around the flag. The author in the afterword says that the series is always remembered for all the death and gore and terrible things, but that the hope and turning things around is just as important, and I agree with them. It does help that the plotline I was most worried about, Emilia being kidnapped, was handled in the best possible way. Certainly her would-be husband is a loathsome and terrible man, but she still manages to have agency, gaining valuable information and passing it off to allies before returning to her forced wedding because escaping would mean Regulus would take it out on his other wives. That said, for a series filled with Best Girls there are an awful lot of them this book. Crusch is mostly at death’s door, but manages to rally Subaru; Anastasia proves when it comes to actual administration she’s by far the best Royal candidate; and Priscilla… well, Priscilla just IS.

After the disaster of the City Hall assault last time, our forces regroup. Ironically, City Hall is now theirs, but there’s lots of bad things happening. Subaru’s leg… and Crusch’s entire body… are cursed. Emilia is, as I said, kidnapped. Wilhelm has figured out that one of the villains who attacked them was in fact someone he knows very well; heck, even Reinhard had a terrible time, though it was offscreen. What’s more, after Lust ups the demands (she now wants the Book of Knowledge (seemingly burned), an artificial spirit (i.e. Beatrice) and Regulus and Emilia’s wedding to go forward (that last one is obviously his addition). This means that all the citizens of this city are a bit scared and angry and upset. Can someone manage to win them over with a dramatic speech? And is that someone really Subaru?

As I said above; my God Priscilla’s presence in this book is just amazing. She’d be the worst person to interact with ever in real life, but her arrogance, confidence and strength here are just what the doctor ordered; her berating Liliana until she gives in and agrees to help is a thing of beauty. I would love to read some Re: Zero from her point of view. Speaking of points of view, it’s very amusing to see how everyone in the room reacts – particularly Julius and Al – when Subaru casually tells everyone that he loves Emilia. He may constantly regard himself as just this guy getting by, always scared and wanting to run away, but to everyone else he’s a tower of strength and confidence, saying things no one else has the courage to. He is topped, perhaps, only by Otto, who continues to be Best Boy, and unfortunately because he is Best Boy has to face the cliffhanger ending on his own.

The next book will be the counterattack against all the archbishops, and it promises to be a combat filled melee. Till then, enjoy a Re: Zero with no return by death by a whole lot of heartwarming moments.

By: Sean Gaffney

#Anime #News #Manga Bookshelf

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felidaefighter · 3 years

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Fears To Ease And Flesh To Mend

Ranboo and Tubbo find out that unzombifying a piglin is a bit different from unzombifying a villager, and they start off parenthood with quite a few complications and in a little over their heads. For the sake of their child, they may need to put awkwardness aside and ask for help.

[Sick fic, canon divergence, Phil and Techno meet Michael, lots and lots of piglin lore headcanons] ~20,000 words per chapter

Chapter Four of Four

Michael runs from the window to tug on Ranboo’s pantleg, and speaks in an accent that’s half-breathy, half drawn-out drawl. “Meeturrr Oo-itch eetch heerrr!” He says, which Ranboo, dedicated parent, understands to mean “Mister Foolish is here”. Between learning english for the first time and being, well, a toddler, his speech was actually coming along pretty well. Techno had assured them that the thick accent would ease up over time since the new sounds (mainly the ones made in front teeth and lips that gave him trouble) could be learned better since he was so young. “Oooh is he? Thank you Michael!” Ranboo patted the toddler’s head and received a high-pitched squeal of delight in return.

Ranboo does a quick once-over of his son. His ear infection cleared up fast and left surprisingly little hearing damage, to everyone’s relief, and scar tissue had quickly started forming over the entire right side of his face. It still needed to be covered, but even the worst of the infections on his face and ribs had cleared up by now. There wasn’t a single bit of green or any other sickly color on him, and his fur was clean and healthy. Turns out, having a rotating team of very dedicated specialists, and loving parents-- (himself and Tubbo having very awkwardly asked Phil and Techno to help out regularly, who obliged)-- meant a very fast recovery for the little piglin. He was looking the best Ranboo had ever seen him, and appeared to have quite a decent amount of energy. “You wanna come down with me and say hi?”

Ranboo hoisted the very eager Michael into his arms and went carefully down the ladder, then opened the door to let Foolish in. “Hey Foolish, come on in!” He greeted. Foolish gratefully stepped into the warm house out of the snow, eyes immediately landing on the piglin in Ranboo’s arms. “Hey Ranboo! Oh, and who’s this?” Foolish asked to Michael, feigning forgetfulness. Michael snorted out a giggle; Foolish had stopped in to say hi quite a few times during the month or so Michael had been healing after Ranboo and Tubbo had figured out rather quickly that the playroom, however cute, was too cramped for a growing kid, and hired Foolish to build a bigger house.

“I’m Mikuh!” Michael introduced himself proudly. “Michael! Of course! You look like you’re feeling a lot better today.” Ranboo smiled, and set Michael down, who proceeded to scramble all over everything. Luckily, the trapdoor to the basement was sealed off and chests weren’t high enough for him to fall off and hurt himself from. Ranboo sighed a very parental sigh as he monitored the toddler out of the corner of his eye while he and Foolish talked. “He is looking a lot better,” Foolish commented. “Seems like he’s a fast learner, too.”

“He is so smart,” Ranboo agreed, attempting to not puff out his chest with pride of his son. “And we’re consulting with some of the villagers both here in Snowchester and around where I live to see what the best material for a prosthetic eye would be. We’ve already got a leatherworker working on a prosthetic ear too-- he had a prototype but apparently he didn’t like wearing it ‘cause it felt weird. That’s what Techno said he said, at least.” Foolish seemed a bit surprised at that. “Techno knows about Michael? And about… you and Tubbo?” Ranboo nodded, recalling that particular conversation.

---

“Ah, Ranboo, just the person I was hoping to see. Come in, come in,” Techno said as Ranboo stood at the door. Ranboo obliged, and stepped into Techno’s house. It was cozily warm, and Steve was taking up the only corner of the house that had a draft. Techno looked like he’d been either tidying up or searching for something before Ranboo had knocked on the door, and he busied himself with continuing whichever it was while he spoke. “I had these ah-- I had these golden carrots I think Michael might enjoy-- here, you can have some.” Ranboo gratefully took the bag that Techno had been searching for and put it into his backpack, thanking Techno a few times.

“I also wanted to thank you for what you mentioned earlier too,” Ranboo said, “About to not let him near shiny things until he’s a little older. I’ll make sure he doesn’t look too closely at the carrots, too.” Ranboo let out a small chuckle and Techno nodded. “Of course, of course,” he said, but then he paused his movements awkwardly, turning to face Ranboo. Ranboo involuntarily took a sharp breath in. He knew exactly what this conversation was about to be. Hopefully-- hopefully-- the gift beforehand was an indicator that it wouldn’t crash and burn and go completely terrible, right? It didn’t seem like it would make very much sense to give a gift in that case. Still, Ranboo waited for the weight to drop.

“Phil and I have been talkin’,” Techno started, “And we’ve come to a conclusion. Well, I think Phil had his opinions about it a bit differently than I did but-- we reached the same conclusion.” Ranboo let him continue. “Y’see, I believe that people can change. When I went into retirement, I had changed-- until I was hunted down but still. Tubbo, he might’ve been the unelected figurehead of a power-hungry nation--” Ranboo bit his tongue, knowing Techno had every right to feel that way-- “But Snowchester is just some village. He helps maintain it, but he’s not, like, some dictator or somethin’. So what I’m sayin’ is, I’m down to believe that Tubbo has changed.”

Ranboo let out the breath he’d apparently been holding the entire time Techno had been talking. “Thank you, Techno,” he said, and it surprised Ranboo when it came out a lot more ragged (yet relieved) than he’d been expecting it to. Techno, ever averse to appearing soft for too long, continued talking. “Besides, I did some digging into what you mentioned about Quackity and it all seems to be true. Apparently he also tried to frame Eret-- the king-- for a bombing? You may wanna watch out for that guy.”

“Oh. I did not know that,” Ranboo admitted, taking mental notes, and then, on second thought, taking physical notes in his memory book. More importantly... “But does that mean-- about Tubbo and I’s marriage--” Techno raised an eyebrow. “Well I’m assumin’ you eloped and didn’t just not invite me to the wedding, since that would be rude.” Ranboo let out a full laugh, relief finally allowing itself into him. “Yeah, yeah we kinda really just eloped. We didn’t have a ceremony or anything. Oh god, hopefully Phil doesn’t feel the same. You both definitely would be invited if we ever do have one,” He added.

Techno made a dismissive handwave. “Ehhh I think Phil’s biggest issue was that he’s an old man and was grumpy about you two making a shotgun wedding decision or somethin’ like that. Like he was just salty about not having more intel on the situation beforehand. He’s got the same feelings about Tubbo that I have for the most part, especially after I told him about Quackity kinda running things from the shadows or whatever.” Ranboo nodded, smiling. It was honestly pretty heartwarming to hear that as the reason behind Phil’s apprehension. Hopefully now that they were all living in relative peace, Tubbo and Techno could both start to move on.

---

“Honestly it surprised me too,” Ranboo admitted to Foolish. “But Techno’s problem is with government and oppressive systems of power and Tubbo isn’t a part of either of those things, so.” He shrugged. Foolish nodded. “I see I see. That makes sense, though, yeah. Well, I’m glad he’s helping you with that sorta stuff then! It definitely seems like it’s doing good for Michael.” Ranboo grinned. “Yeah. What’re you here about, by the way? Payment for the next section of the mansion?” Foolish shuffled around sheepishly. “Well… sorta. I was hoping I could get the trident next? I kinda lost mine in an accident the other day.” Ranboo raised his eyebrows, knowing full well there was a whole big story behind that. They got to chatting as Michael enjoyed the running-around space of the downstairs room.

---

“Nite Uh-oh. Nite Ranoo.” Michael said with a small yawn, snuggled into his bed and blankets. He was very fond of the color yellow-- they’d made a lucky guess with that one. Tubbo and Ranboo smiled fondly at him as they dimmed the lanterns in his room. “‘Night Michael!” They both answered, before heading down the ladder for the night, closing the trapdoor as quietly as they could. There was a small moment when they’d both reached the ground floor before they burst out into small, quiet giggles. “I like that he calls me ‘Uh-oh’,” Tubbo said with a bit of a wicked grin. Ranboo laughed. “Mhmm. I know it’s just because he has trouble with words that start with soft sounds, but it really fits you.” Tubbo nodded sagely. “It does, it does. It’s an accurate descriptor of my general status.” They giggled a tiny bit more.

“Honestly,” Tubbo said, “I’m still shocked that Techno’s just. Okay with this whole thing. The whole marriage and kid thing with you I mean. He is right, I’m a different man now that I’m not president, but I woulda thought he’d be a bit more hesitant about it.” Ranboo thought about it for a moment. “Mmm. I think it’s a good thing, though. I mean, he’s changed too, y’know? Maybe this can be a fresh start for all of us.” Tubbo sighed at this, but it wasn’t his usual, world-weary sigh; it wasn’t the sigh that held the weight of a nation or war or problems with power. It was the sigh of a weight, however small, being lifted off of him. “That’d be nice, I think. I’d like that. And I’d like Michael to grow up in that world, too.”

Ranboo couldn’t think of a better way to say it himself, so he hummed in agreement and leaned up against his husband affectionately. “I think… I think things might be okay,” he said, cautiously, optimistically, but gaining strength the more he said it. “I think that Michael will be okay. And I think that we’ll be okay. And I think that, if Techno and Phil and you are willing to set aside the past and focus on the future, the future might be something new.” A wave of nostalgia suddenly washed over Ranboo, and he was reminded of one of the very first conversations he’d had with the then-president that would become his husband.

“Do you remember… do you remember the conversation we had when we talked about elections?” Ranboo asked, and when Tubbo chuckled Ranboo could feel it in his arm. “Oh god. That was ages ago. I do, though, I think I do.” Ranboo continued. “You said you didn’t need control, and that if I wound up elected, I should make things better.” Tubbo hummed thoughtfully, leaning in turn and bonking himself affectionately against Ranboo as he continued. “I think that maybe, that’s what this can be. We can’t change the things we’ve done in the past, but we have a chance to move past that and do something different.” The two husbands paused, just for a second, listening to the gentle snoring of their healthy son in the bedroom upstairs. “Yeah,” Tubbo agreed, sounding more hopeful than he had in a long time. “We can make it better.”

#mcyt fanfic #michael dreamsmp #ranboo #tubbo #technoblade #foolish is there for a second but not long enough to warrant a tag #they write #HOPEFULLY i tagged this all correctly #ahHHH okay i think i might be good to post it uh #here goes nothing #t #r #family bee

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cordonian-literature · 3 years

Text

The Aftermath - Ch. 34

Happy Birthday, Ella

Summary: It’s Eleanor’s 18th birthday

Word Count: ~2.6k

A/N: big time jump!

A/N 2: ahhh this is the last chapter!! the one before this was sort of a conclusion but in this one is more like... the aftermath of the aftermath, haha. anyway, this was more than difficult to get out, firstly because i absolutely suck at conclusions so if this is terrible, sorry :( and secondly because this is my first fic and i really can’t believe it’s finished! am i crying? maybe... anywayyy, thank you all so much for reading!! i hope you’ve enjoyed this series as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it!! <3

Warnings: mention of character death

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s book, “The Goldfinch”)*

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @twinkle-320 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @pens-girl-87 @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @cordonia-gothqueen @queenwalton @yourmajesty09 @alj4890 @choicesbutterfly

- Eleanor -

I sit at the empty desk across from my bed. There is nothing in front of me, but I stare at my neat piles of notebooks and novels: some that Daddyo had recommended to me, others that I had borrowed from his library.

My bedroom door is open. From the hall, I hear the tapping of Roger’s paws and the light thuds of Fabian’s footsteps. The noise of their arrival lightly raises me from my seat and my tired thoughts. I walk out of my room and go after them.

Roger runs away from Fabian with something in his mouth. My little brother giggles as he runs after our dog, struggling to keep up with him. The dog weaves through crowds of servants, making its way towards the front of the palace.

Fabian sighs, frustrated. I put my hand on his shoulder and urge him to continue on with me.

Once we reach the front doors, we see that Roger has stopped running and is having his belly rubbed by Aunt Rowan, while her oldest son, Rowell, races towards my brother.

Rowell and Fabian run off quickly, already in the midst of a game. Lord Maxwell gives me a side hug, holding his and Aunt Rowan’s youngest son to his side.

I hug Aunt Rowan, then give the little babe a kiss on his chubby cheek. I lead them towards the sitting room, where Mama drinks tea with Duchess Hana and Duchess Olivia.

After the adults are all seated, they usher me out of the room. I giggle, saying that there’s nothing they have to hide from me, but I know what they’re planning and agree to leave.

Outside the sitting room, I decide to go look for Gabe and Daddyo, hoping that their meeting with the dignitary was over. I check my watch and see that they should have been done about a half-hour ago, but I know my brother had probably gone on overtime.

He had started taking his duties more seriously as of late, and I know it’s because of the talk Daddyo had with us at Applewood. He had insisted that I come along into town with them and receive the same speech, even though I said I was fine with staying behind.

Gabriel and I had laughed when Daddyo told us that he was the heir and I was the spare. The silly phrase wasn’t the only thing that sent us into a fit of laughter, but it was also a bit of disbelief. My brother and I weren’t naive; we knew what the people of the court had to say about me being a member of the royal family. Daddyo never failed to remind us that their opinions didn’t matter and that I was his daughter no matter what anyone said, but of course, people kept talking.

Sometimes I wanted to argue with him and say that keeping my last name as Blaise — while Gabe’s had been changed to Rys years ago — would keep me from being fully considered his daughter, even though he had officially adopted me when he married my mother.

But I knew such arguments were ones that broke his heart. The smallest change in my behavior made him fear that I no longer considered him my father, which was heartwarming, in a sense, but also depressing. (When I was about twelve, I had thought calling him “Daddyo” was too childish, so like Gabe I called him “Dad.” One morning he pulled me to the side and with the saddest eyes asked me if I was upset with him, or if he had done something to anger me. I laughed it off but went back to calling him “Daddyo” immediately. Though I cringed every time I said it, it was better than upsetting the only man who had ever felt like a true father to me).

And so most of my daily thoughts were now consumed by the anger I had for my biological father — everything he did to my family, and to the nation and people I had come to love — but I was slowly coming to terms with it. Even though I was ashamed of him, I was accepting the fact that he could no longer dictate my life or the lives of those I love.

These past few months marked ten years after the bombing. When my father had died, and Gabe and I had been in the hospital waiting for Mama to get better, I had been childishly angry at him. My last clear memory with my biological father had been reminding him to take pictures of the new exhibit at The Met so I could get a glimpse of what he and my mother would see. He was never able to show me those photos. That is, if he even took any.

But that was a different kind of frustration. One that, if my little brother Fabian expressed, I would sadly laugh at and explain to him the seriousness of the situation.

Theodore’s actions had controlled all of us, even Daddyo, Uncle Drake, Lord Maxwell, and Duchess Hana.

But now we are all in control of our lives again. Uncle Drake and Duchess Olivia had done honorable work with the King’s Guard. Lord Maxwell and Aunt Rowan had married a few months after my parents did, and a year later Duke Rashad married Hana — around the time Fabian was born. Daddyo eventually mended his relationship with Uncle Leo, and every few months his family would come to visit us.

Any person who was a threat, such as Boris — his betrayal was one that broke my childish heart, but not a day passed where I missed him— and Uncle Drake’s ex-fiancée, Jessica, were spending the rest of their lives behind bars.

It had taken our parents a while to tell us everything, and when they finally did, it took even longer for us to come to terms with it all. But Daddyo and Mama never pushed us away when we needed to talk to them.

As I walk up the stairs to Daddyo’s office, I take deep breaths, allowing the concerns to flow out of me. Before I knock on the door, my mind is clear.

I smile to myself as I reach for the handle, memories of our obstacles so far behind us that I feel foolish worrying about them at all.

Inside, Daddyo, Gabe, Fabian, and Rowell are crowded around something on the desk. Everyone turns to face me.

“Is it time for the party?” Rowell asks.

“Shush!” Fabian elbows his friend while Gabe and Daddyo laugh.

Once the boys are done scolding each other, Daddyo asks, “What do you think about eating out for lunch?”

“Same restaurant?” Fabian questions.

“Unless you wish to go someplace else?”

I shake my head, then link my arm through his. “No, I like that place.”

As we walk out the doors of the palace, we spot Uncle Leo, Aunt Katie, Hunter, and Heather with bags in their hands. Once they see us, they lightly toss those bags back into their limo, and they join us in our car to go eat lunch.

We had eaten in this restaurant on my eighth birthday, which had been only a week after Mama and Daddyo had come back from their honeymoon. My family came here often, and Uncle Leo liked joining us.

We enter the restaurant and see that the place is empty. The menus are put in front of us, and we order without looking at it. Fabian and Rowell talk between themselves, and Heather tells me about their flight, while Uncle Leo asks Gabe how he’s feeling.

Gabe shakes his head, an amused look on his face. “You know, I thought this would all be overwhelming. I was scared that the pressure would bring the anxiety back, but it didn’t.”

Uncle Leo pats my brother’s back. “Now tell me about that girl you mentioned in that course you took.”

Gabe’s face goes red, and he gives a little laugh. Aunt Katie raises her eyebrows, while Daddyo urges him to talk.

My brother leans back in his seat, the amusement increasing. “I’m think I’m gonna draft a letter to her.”

“Oh?” Aunt Katie takes a sip of her drink.

“I’m planning on asking her to join the next Social Season. That reminds me.” He cuts off and looks towards our father.

But before he can say anything, Uncle Leo goes, “Gabe, go to your dad when you want to know what not to do. Take my advice instead—”

Hunter interrupts him: “You say that like your advice doesn’t backfire on the regular.”

“Poor soul is speaking from experience,” Heather whispers to me. Daddyo overhears her, and laughs with us.

We leave as soon as we finish our meal, not considering dessert. The ride back to the palace is filled with smooth conversations and laughs. As the limo stops in front of the entrance, everyone tells me to exit the vehicle first.

Tentatively, I crawl out the car and make my way up the stairs. Servants open the doors for me, and the entire room is flooded with balloons, decorations, and sweets.

My mother kisses my cheek, then Daddyo and Gabe wrap me in a hug. Fabian runs off quickly with Rowell.

The rest of my parents’ friends continue giving me birthday wishes, until Fabian finally reemerges with an envelope in his hand. Everyone crowds around me as I open it and take out a thin, rectangular piece of paper.

“It’s a bookmark!” Fabian cries as I examine it. I turn it over in my hands, feeling the soft edges against my skin. On the other side, there’s a drawing of six stick figures. Fabian puts his finger on the bookmark, and I bring it to his eye level.

“That’s you with the books since you like reading,” he tells me. “That’s Daddy and Mom since they have the crowns, and Gabe is the one with the smaller crown, and that’s me and Roger, and that’s our home in the background.” I follow his finger as he points to his little drawings. “I know it’s not very good, but I didn’t know what else to get you!” He giggles as I further examine it.

“No one knew what to get her,” Gabe comments. “Little Miss—” he takes on a high pitched voice— “Oh, you don’t have to get me anything! No, really, I don’t want anything!”

The room of friends laugh and chuckle at the mocking voice.

I go through everyone else’s gifts, which are mostly things that I can use, but don’t need and didn’t ask for; like Fabian said, everyone had wanted to get me something, but I was in need of nothing. I know that Uncle Maxwell was more than frustrated when I told him so, and he must have been even more upset when he couldn’t get any hints out of my parents either. His and Aunt Rowan’s present to me are new pointe shoes.

Duchess Olivia had started giving me more self-defense lessons, so her gift to me is a stiletto knife, along with stiletto shoes.

Duke Rashad and Duchess Hana give me a pearl necklace: when the Duchess had taught me how to paint, we had made portraits of each other and had illustrated pearls on our pictures. The portrait I had made of his wife was the Duke’s favorite.

Uncle Leo and Hunter give me new paint brushes and a steel paint easel. Heather hands me a cup with a picture of her and I on it — I had given her something similar for her birthday — and Aunt Katie gives me a cute bag.

Uncle Drake gifts me a new pair of skis: last winter and during the Social Season, we had raced down a slope and I had lost both times. “So you can practice a bit more next time we head to Lythikos,” he tells me with a pat on my back.

Gabriel hands me a heavy box. My arms burn as I make my way towards a table and put it down. Inside are books that are on my to-read list, candies that we had tried and liked on our last family trip to Italy, a bracelet with charms, and gold earrings shaped like a crescent moon. “You didn’t give me any clues for what you wanted, so I just put all of them in there,” my brother says with a shrug.

Mama and Daddyo’s gift is next. My father wraps me in a large hug, then holds me to his side as servants roll in a new Baroque piano — it was similar to the one I had seen in a museum the last time we visited Applewood. The old one was being wheeled out; I had played it daily in the last few years, both for the entertainment of my family and for important members of the nobility, and even though it was constantly cared for, the strings had started to become dusty. I knew we wouldn’t get rid of it; I was sure that Daddyo had plans to donate it, but again I felt that there was no need for a newer one. We could have just taken more care of the one we had.

But I don’t complain. I could never complain for this group of people who love me so dearly. I accept hugs from everyone in the room, and then the cake is brought out. The frosting looks like a painting, and is sweetly smooth as we eat it, the icing staining the corners of our mouths.

We sit and chat about nothing at all, simply enjoying the blissful companionship that came with family and beloved friends. I had told my parents that I didn’t want a big party, and this was exactly what I had in mind. The room is light and joyful: Uncle Maxwell tells jokes while Uncle Drake rolls his eyes, Mama throws her head back, Daddyo’s arm around her while he tries his best not to laugh, and Uncle Leo, Hunter, and Gabe wipe tears from their eyes.

The rest of the party is spent like that. The irreplaceable friendships that had went from nothing, to everything, to nothing again, then beyond the meaning of intimacy that came with being understood. It fills the rooms of the palace as it has these last ten years.

I think about the gifts I’ve been given today, wondering where I would put them in my room — except for the piano, which I will leave in the ballroom — and how I will use them. I smile when I remember Gabe’s joke about my refusing presents.

I don’t think he understands that I didn’t wish for specific objects because I can’t remember the last time I longed for anything, and if I ever did, there was no request that Daddyo wouldn’t strive to fulfill. My life had never felt lonely or without purpose, and I think that means I’ve found happiness. Like everyone in this room.

Daddyo notices that I’ve zoned out a bit. From the corner of my eye I can see the gentle wrinkles on his face and the graying roots of his hair. He leans towards me and plants a kiss on my forehead. “Happy birthday, Ella dear. I love you.”

I smile at him, then use my fork to steal a bit of icing off his cake. Fabian follows suit, and soon our dad’s cake has no frosting on it.

The three of us laugh, and with a mouth full of sugar I say, “I love you, too, Daddyo.”

#the royal romance #choices the royal romance #choices trr fanfic #choices the royal romance fanfic #choices the royal heir fanfic #trr #trr au fanfic #liam x mc #liam x mc fanfic #maxwell x oc #choices fanfic #trr fanfic #choices trr #the royal romance fanfic

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